#quit attacking people. educate yourself. grow up.

[willowser]

just to make sure we are all on the same page in this corner of the internet, i want to be explicitly clear about my stance/feelings on some things:

if i come across "content"/fic in this niche that i absolutely do not like, do not vibe with, am not interested in, that icks me out completely and totally—i scroll past it as quickly as i can and i move on with my day.

in the case that it's "content"/fic that really bothers or triggers me in any way, i make sure that i have blacklisted/blocked certain tags and keywords so that in the future i may not come across those things again.

i also understand that there is a variety of tags used throughout the internet and that websites are not perfect/things slip through the cracks. people are also human, and mistakes are also made.

in the event i am exposed to something that i do not want to see, point blank, i would never and will never believe it is my right to harass and terrorize the person writing said thing/s, and if i witness this kind of behavior being celebrated among the people around me, whoever you are, i will be removing you from my space.

to be perfectly and abundantly clear: i will always be a supporter of dark content, and its right to be written. even if i don't understand it, even if it "disgusts" me, even if i never want to read it.

please understand that i do not say this with hostility, nor do i mean it as a threat or to be confrontational. you should protect the space that you are in; this is me doing that, this is me making sure that you do that, even if it's against me.

[lehdenlaulu]

A "get to know you" meme, tagged by @defeateddetectives! 😊

do you make your bed? Usually, yeah, unless I'm in a hell of a hurry.

what’s your favourite number? Probably a common answer, but 7!

what is your job? I like to describe it as wandering around a mystical maze and fulfilling people's wishes. 😉

if you could go back to school would you? Honestly? Yeah. I have huge gaps in my formal education due to neuromutant/mental health nonsense, and I'd love to remedy that.

can you parallel park? Baby, I can't even drive.

a job you had that would surprise people? I worked in a biolab assembling COVID tests for hospital use for a bit, airlocks and coveralls and all.

do you think aliens are real? You know, out of all the stories about paranormal experiences and the like, alien abduction stories are always the scariest, honestly. So while space is vast and I kinda think it's arrogant to think we're alone, so to speak... the idea is a little scary if it means those stories are all true. can you drive a manual car? Again, can't drive at all.

what’s your guilty pleasure? Honestly, I don't really feel guilty about anything that isn't actually harmful to someone. Maybe eating way too unhealthily, if anything.

tattoos? One day, I hope.

favourite colour? Deep olive green.

favourite type of music? I have a really wide taste in music, ranging from jazz to metal. Good music is good music, genre is largely irrelevant to me.

do you like puzzles? It's not something I do often, but I do like them, especially assembling those huge table-size ones with friends.

any phobias? Not any crippling ones, no. Okay, I lied, I just had a panic attack when our cabin didn't have a window when crossing over from Sweden (though to be fair anything might have triggered it at that point, I was Not Having A Good Time that day). So I might say claustrophobia. Funnily enough too open spaces also make me anxious.

favourite childhood sport? Did I even have one? I don't think so. I wasn't much of a sports person.

do you talk to yourself? Hah, yes.

what movie(s) do you adore? "Adore" is a really specific word, hmmm... Before Sunrise, for one. And now that we started with the Vienna theme, The Illusionist. Pride & Prejudice (2005) would work, too,

coffee or tea? Tea. I've never, quite literally, been able to stomach coffee.

first thing you wanted to be growing up? The very first one was probably something silly in a typical kid fashion, but the first serious ones were all in the archaeology/anthropology/history field.

Tagging: @ruthvelyan @midgardian-lokidottir @cathly @eowyndy @artorielle & @if-th3n-else

[footballingreenwich]

Football: More Than Just a Game

Interview with Bobby Walker, Jr. by Drew Falla

Bobby Walker Jr, born in Dallas, Texas, grew up around football, and puts his understanding of young minds and athletics to work. Growing up around football, Walker always had a love for the sport. It wasn’t until he turned 12, where he put on a helmet. This decision would change his life forever. He would go on to play college football, and coach after. Starting a young family before moving to Greenwich, CT, was a challenge. However, Walker looked to sports in order to help his kids develop. Working in the education systems across Texas and Connecticut, he learned a lot about the ins and outs of sports and how it ties in with the classroom. Walker, after coaching for some years in Texas as a defensive coordinator and line coach, decided to continue coaching at the youth level in Greenwich. Working for the GYFL as a volunteer coach for kids ages 8-14 has allowed Walker to have very unique views on the game he loves. He believes that, Working in Greenwich actually allowed him to be one of my personal coaches during my time as a young football player. I always looked upon our times together fondly, as he was truly one of the people who helped me fall in love with football. Having such an adept understanding of the game and how kids develop gives what he talks about a unique twist. He talks about football in Greenwich as a whole, as well as its benefits in school and socially. His son, Miles Walker, currently attends Ohio State and plays football there, so his experiences are touched upon a lot in this interview as well. 

Q1 [00:00:56] Can you talk about what you think football means to young children and what it, what it helps them develop and stuff like that.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:01:08] Absolutely. So first of all, I can't tell you the numerous benefits that I believe football holds for kids. And, you know, not only for young kids, but I think it's just about a sport that teaches you a lot about yourself, which teaches you a lot about life. Right? Right. So for young kids, you know, I think, first and foremost, I think football teaches discipline, which I think is really important. Right? The discipline of coming to practice every day, of having all of your gear and learning how to line up on what you think of there are, at the most basic level, it teaches discipline. But when you go further, it begins to teach you about, you know, teamwork and working together and relying on other people and being relied on. And so it teaches you this concept that we're all in this together. And the more we work well together, the better off all of us ultimately are. And then, you know, I can tell you you're going to win all the time. The other thing about you is that sometimes it doesn't go right. Sometimes your goals that you want don't work. And so what do you do then? You can quit. Or you can work a little harder. Or you can change your goal, change your attack, change your approach. And the more you learn that early on, on the field, I think it just applies to everything in school home life, your grades, your job. So I love it there. And it just teaches you I know transport right. It also teaches you just to have pure, unadulterated fun. And I think in today's world, man, we need to teach kids to do that more often.

Q2 [00:02:51] So you touched on school, can you mention a little bit more about how football helps with school? And maybe, you know, why it's important for young kids to not just get into just football, but sports in general and how that can help with their education.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:03:08] So there are a couple of things, man, that you need to keep in mind. Right. And so some of this unfortunately you did ask the wrong person because I'm also a teacher and an educator. So I do a lot of studies about some of this stuff. Right. So all of those basic level, I think that like I said, it teaches you discipline. So if you're going to play a sport, particularly the older you get, time becomes abstract and you got to learn how to utilize the time. You have to do all the things you watch. So that includes how do I get my school work done, how do I practice, how do I live, how do I train? And so the older you get and the deeper you get with sports, you find yourself working on these schedules and you become really rigid about it. And you learn that I can squeeze everything I want. If I can learn how to manipulate and manage my time well, at least for me, that was one of the best things I learned. Even in high school, I knew that I was going to practice to X amount of time, and I lived pretty far away from home, so I knew I'd get home by this time and then it would take me this much time. So I'd always been thinking about my schedule. And how to, you know, use my schedule to my advantage. But also I'm switching things that I wanted to do, how to go have fun on, how to be with my friends, but also how to make it to the weight room and sometimes everything. So sometimes you know what I mean. So that's part one. But the other part of the number of studies is just talk about the connection between being physically fit and learning about movement and learning. You know, sometimes I know it sounds corny, but like if we had some training to do, instead of focusing on how hard it was and think about a test later that day, and as your body is exercising, you're able to retain a lot of the information that you're trying to cram into your brain a little bit. You know what I'm saying? So that's how I used to do that when we did gases, right? Instead of think about the gases, I try to think about work or I think about a history test, or I think about math problems or something as a way to try to get that deep into my memory.

Q3 [00:05:11] You mentioned being in the, education field and you talk a lot about football. Can you talk about what you do for a living and what, like go into detail about each thing that you've done? I know you've been a coach and I work in the Education Boys and Girls Club. So can you touch on that?

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:05:29] I was fortunate enough to be able to play football in college, but my going to a Division three school, I was able to also play another sport I love. Track and field hockey were shot put, discus and they learned how to put the hammer in college. So sports literally I did sports. You know, you think of weekends on that college 85% of all weekends. I had a competition. And you know, for track and field, you know what I'm saying. So that's how much I love sports. And then when I left college aged 22, I went straight into teaching. So I went back to my hometown in Dallas. And I taught fifth grade humanities at an all boys private school. But I also was forced to be a coach where I did a lot of defensive coordinator stuff. But I also work even with the O-line, the D-line or the linebackers or sometimes all three, you know, just depending on what the team needed and what coaches we had on staff. And so when I left, I worked in Dallas from 95 to 2000. Then I left there and moved to Maryland. So school called McDonough school and then went up the McDonough school. There was a middle school, Dean Ambrose, who taught history as well. So I taught seventh grade and then eighth grade history. They both, were making history, different parts of it. But I was able to coach J.V. football, a little varsity football. And then it also comes fast track. And one year I go out periodically helping the beat. Great football team do whatever they needed to coach for day. So, you know, again, you know, you can see sports always played a role in where it went. We were there from 2000 to 2005 that we moved to Connecticut and in Summer 2005, I became the head of middle school for the middle school principal at Haywood Summer School in Stamford. I was there for nine years and I always worked with the football team. I couldn't do it full time, but I would do it and I would coach, the offensive line and the defensive line. And then every Saturday, I was sort of the spy in the sky, always in the press box, looking down their formations and helping a whole line coach try and identify places. And, you know, any time I do, I would move. And then on the defensive side of the ball, my job was to not only look at those patterns, but were there like any kind of clues that they would give us, like as one team, every time the running back didn't get the ball, he was upright, a two point stance. Every time he got the ball, he was down in the three point stance. You know, that was my job. I was like, find those patterns and then try to lead up to the defensive coordinator. Right? Right. And then, when I go to the Boys and Girls Club in 2014 and not being able to go to school, that's what gave me time to jump to the GSM. I wasn't working at a high school anymore, and so I was able to dedicate my time to helping young people get ready for football. So for the six years that I was at the Boys and Girls Club, you know, I coached, I think I coached at the junior level for four years and then senior level for two, and that was a lot of fun. Then when I moved to Greenwich Academy in 2020, I think that was sort of the end of my coaching career.

Q4 [00:08:52] I was coached by you on the Cos Cob Crushers. Do you have any unique memories from our time together, on the Crushers staff, or Miles this time or anything? Could you just touch on those experiences and what it meant to you?

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:09:13] Where do I start? The first thing I remember. I remember when I first started coaching and I was teaching people. Were you probably I don't know what you guys, we call it one step through it. We literally take one step to make sure you're in good position right? And doing it over and over and over and everybody is like, this is boring, coach, can we do more? And me trying to get you guys to buy into the system that this is going to work. I promise you it's going to work. And then as you guys got older, by the time we got to game time, all of a sudden we realized that it didn't work like that. And just the way in which, you know, you play on a team for two years and for Miles, he's a year older than you are, right? It was cool that every time you all came together, y'all won as bantams and then, you know, the juniors, they didn't win. You guys moved up. The next year we won. After juniors even went to seniors. You guys weren’t there, they didn't win. You guys moved up. And so what I realized was that I had this really unique combination of guys with Miles and Cliff and then you Teddy and Jake, and what it was was by the time you guys got to me, you know, that's what I was trying to do. And that became fun. Y'all saw it y'all again to see what it meant to move people out of the way. All of a sudden we had like the best rushing team around, you know, couple that were really good running backs. That comes from the things going undefeated man. You know Miles’ last year you guys just dominated everybody. So you know guys that were really close right. Right. And this is sort of was like bragging when other coaches came to me to tell me how good the line was. And everybody kept saying it was because you guys were big and y'all were. But the truth is, man, I have another coach who understands football. And he goes, man, you get those guys are really well coached. And that was the biggest thing. That was the biggest compliment to me is that you you guys are big. But I'm a huge fan of big guys too. But they were big. They weren't good. You guys were big. You were good. You were athletic. And y'all worked together as a unit for sure.

Q5 [00:11:29] Can you just talk about the connection between the GYFL, and either Greenwich High School or Brunswick or both, and what it means to each respectfully.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:12:05] Let me tell you, man. So the GYFL has a lot of respect in particular from the high school level programs in this area. Whether it's Greenwich, it's Brunswick, or Greenwich Country Day. Every time I talk to a coach from there, and I mean, one of my favorite things I loved as a coach was when all those high school football coaches came out. And what it did, man. And you were one of the games where it was like a community event, right? Right. Not so much that it was just a bunch of boys. But then you have the guys that used to play. They come out, you know, guys that, you know, played ten, 15 years ago, come out in their jerseys every once in a while to come watch the teams. Obviously they have their own kids. There's the level of pride that you have there, you know. And that was cool to be there. And so it took a little while. I remember when Miles was in middle school. And, you know, for Brunswick. And so I probably could get in trouble for people who would come to Brunswick. Right. I kept trying to tell the coach from Miles in middle school. I knew him personally. He was a good friend of mine. I'm like, listen man, there is some serious talent on this roster, right? And you need to come check this up. Even if he's not trying to recruit people, at least come watch your Brunswick boys play and see how well they're playing the game and how well they know the game. Right? So it wasn't about recruiting. It was about coming to support those kids who play at Brunswick, who live in Greenwich, who work out there every single weekend, three days a week, you know, practicing. And so I remember the first time, his name was Coach Sean Gerard signed. And when Gerard came over, him being blown away by the level of skill that was out there and what he saw. It was actually really good football. And that was one of the first things he said to me, man, those kids are really well coached. And then all of a sudden I think Brunswick now comes out. And again, it's not always about your support. Take people away from the public school. A lot of people see that's what's going on. It's actually not what it is. A lot of coach, too, to support those boys at Brunswick, because he wants to see, you know, who are we at school? All right. So that was really fun for me, man. And then, you know, I got on the GYFL board. And so being able to sit with those guys, and it was women talking about the program and how we, you know, bigger impacts on boys. That was really cool to me.

Q6 [00:14:30] Can you talk about some moments where you may have seen a challenge in the population of the league or the amount of kids who signed up, or if there were any challenges with rules or, an uproar from the community with any issues that they had or any moments where you might have experienced, some difficulty.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:14:58] We had some big scares in the league, right? The first one being when the first reports, were being recorded in the NFL anaboutd a connection between CTE and people constantly having head collisions and working those windows and people. A lot of parents, parents and the number of kids dropped to really dangerously low levels to sustain, you know, six teams with three levels each. And so as a team. We have to talk to parents, but be very honest. You know, we weren't going to say, oh, he's not real, right? We're not going to tell falsehoods, but we have to talk about what things were we doing as coaches to try to make sure that we're stable young boys heads. Right. And so, you know, this whole movement went out to cause youth football in general. Coach, you behaved out of the game. And we made it a priority that we retrained all our coaches. How to teach tackling, how to teach, blocking with all modern ways, and not from the, you know, those of us who played in the 80s and 90s where you were taught to be with your head. And so I thought that was actually really cool, not only as a come closer community that we come into that, but you saw the GYFL as a team, try to get everybody to commit to this new way of teaching. And so it became mandatory that if you were a coach, you also had to be certified. And, you know, while I was in youth football, I forgot the name of the, Federation, but we all had to be certified. And if you are certified, you could not get on the sideline. Coach. I thought that was a genius move. I thought it was a great way to to acknowledge the fears that people have and, and and to acknowledge what the studies were revealing. But it was also a way to, let us know that we do have your best interests in mind. And no, we're not going to put him in any kind of, you know, life threatening, life changing situation. So that was one. And then obviously the biggest one recently being just Covid and how that we, you know, how we conduct how we conduct practices during Covid, how we keep kids safe during Covid. You know, that was a big major challenge where like and there was just one of the guidelines were allowed to operate under was the high school and other people doing so? You know, things like that.

[drewfalla]

Football: More Than Just a Game

Interview with Bobby Walker, Jr. by Drew Falla

Bobby Walker Jr, born in Dallas, Texas, grew up around football, and puts his understanding of young minds and athletics to work. Growing up around football, Walker always had a love for the sport. It wasn’t until he turned 12, where he put on a helmet. This decision would change his life forever. He would go on to play college football, and coach after. Starting a young family before moving to Greenwich, CT, was a challenge. However, Walker looked to sports in order to help his kids develop. Working in the education systems across Texas and Connecticut, he learned a lot about the ins and outs of sports and how it ties in with the classroom. Walker, after coaching for some years in Texas as a defensive coordinator and line coach, decided to continue coaching at the youth level in Greenwich. Working for the GYFL as a volunteer coach for kids ages 8-14 has allowed Walker to have very unique views on the game he loves. He believes that, Working in Greenwich actually allowed him to be one of my personal coaches during my time as a young football player. I always looked upon our times together fondly, as he was truly one of the people who helped me fall in love with football. Having such an adept understanding of the game and how kids develop gives what he talks about a unique twist. He talks about football in Greenwich as a whole, as well as its benefits in school and socially. His son, Miles Walker, currently attends Ohio State and plays football there, so his experiences are touched upon a lot in this interview as well. 

Q1 [00:00:56] Can you talk about what you think football means to young children and what it, what it helps them develop and stuff like that.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:01:08] Absolutely. So first of all, I can't tell you the numerous benefits that I believe football holds for kids. And, you know, not only for young kids, but I think it's just about a sport that teaches you a lot about yourself, which teaches you a lot about life. Right? Right. So for young kids, you know, I think, first and foremost, I think football teaches discipline, which I think is really important. Right? The discipline of coming to practice every day, of having all of your gear and learning how to line up on what you think of there are, at the most basic level, it teaches discipline. But when you go further, it begins to teach you about, you know, teamwork and working together and relying on other people and being relied on. And so it teaches you this concept that we're all in this together. And the more we work well together, the better off all of us ultimately are. And then, you know, I can tell you you're going to win all the time. The other thing about you is that sometimes it doesn't go right. Sometimes your goals that you want don't work. And so what do you do then? You can quit. Or you can work a little harder. Or you can change your goal, change your attack, change your approach. And the more you learn that early on, on the field, I think it just applies to everything in school home life, your grades, your job. So I love it there. And it just teaches you I know transport right. It also teaches you just to have pure, unadulterated fun. And I think in today's world, man, we need to teach kids to do that more often.

Q2 [00:02:51] So you touched on school, can you mention a little bit more about how football helps with school? And maybe, you know, why it's important for young kids to not just get into just football, but sports in general and how that can help with their education.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:03:08] So there are a couple of things, man, that you need to keep in mind. Right. And so some of this unfortunately you did ask the wrong person because I'm also a teacher and an educator. So I do a lot of studies about some of this stuff. Right. So all of those basic level, I think that like I said, it teaches you discipline. So if you're going to play a sport, particularly the older you get, time becomes abstract and you got to learn how to utilize the time. You have to do all the things you watch. So that includes how do I get my school work done, how do I practice, how do I live, how do I train? And so the older you get and the deeper you get with sports, you find yourself working on these schedules and you become really rigid about it. And you learn that I can squeeze everything I want. If I can learn how to manipulate and manage my time well, at least for me, that was one of the best things I learned. Even in high school, I knew that I was going to practice to X amount of time, and I lived pretty far away from home, so I knew I'd get home by this time and then it would take me this much time. So I'd always been thinking about my schedule. And how to, you know, use my schedule to my advantage. But also I'm switching things that I wanted to do, how to go have fun on, how to be with my friends, but also how to make it to the weight room and sometimes everything. So sometimes you know what I mean. So that's part one. But the other part of the number of studies is just talk about the connection between being physically fit and learning about movement and learning. You know, sometimes I know it sounds corny, but like if we had some training to do, instead of focusing on how hard it was and think about a test later that day, and as your body is exercising, you're able to retain a lot of the information that you're trying to cram into your brain a little bit. You know what I'm saying? So that's how I used to do that when we did gases, right? Instead of think about the gases, I try to think about work or I think about a history test, or I think about math problems or something as a way to try to get that deep into my memory.

Q3 [00:05:11] You mentioned being in the, education field and you talk a lot about football. Can you talk about what you do for a living and what, like go into detail about each thing that you've done? I know you've been a coach and I work in the Education Boys and Girls Club. So can you touch on that?

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:05:29] I was fortunate enough to be able to play football in college, but my going to a Division three school, I was able to also play another sport I love. Track and field hockey were shot put, discus and they learned how to put the hammer in college. So sports literally I did sports. You know, you think of weekends on that college 85% of all weekends. I had a competition. And you know, for track and field, you know what I'm saying. So that's how much I love sports. And then when I left college aged 22, I went straight into teaching. So I went back to my hometown in Dallas. And I taught fifth grade humanities at an all boys private school. But I also was forced to be a coach where I did a lot of defensive coordinator stuff. But I also work even with the O-line, the D-line or the linebackers or sometimes all three, you know, just depending on what the team needed and what coaches we had on staff. And so when I left, I worked in Dallas from 95 to 2000. Then I left there and moved to Maryland. So school called McDonough school and then went up the McDonough school. There was a middle school, Dean Ambrose, who taught history as well. So I taught seventh grade and then eighth grade history. They both, were making history, different parts of it. But I was able to coach J.V. football, a little varsity football. And then it also comes fast track. And one year I go out periodically helping the beat. Great football team do whatever they needed to coach for day. So, you know, again, you know, you can see sports always played a role in where it went. We were there from 2000 to 2005 that we moved to Connecticut and in Summer 2005, I became the head of middle school for the middle school principal at Haywood Summer School in Stamford. I was there for nine years and I always worked with the football team. I couldn't do it full time, but I would do it and I would coach, the offensive line and the defensive line. And then every Saturday, I was sort of the spy in the sky, always in the press box, looking down their formations and helping a whole line coach try and identify places. And, you know, any time I do, I would move. And then on the defensive side of the ball, my job was to not only look at those patterns, but were there like any kind of clues that they would give us, like as one team, every time the running back didn't get the ball, he was upright, a two point stance. Every time he got the ball, he was down in the three point stance. You know, that was my job. I was like, find those patterns and then try to lead up to the defensive coordinator. Right? Right. And then, when I go to the Boys and Girls Club in 2014 and not being able to go to school, that's what gave me time to jump to the GSM. I wasn't working at a high school anymore, and so I was able to dedicate my time to helping young people get ready for football. So for the six years that I was at the Boys and Girls Club, you know, I coached, I think I coached at the junior level for four years and then senior level for two, and that was a lot of fun. Then when I moved to Greenwich Academy in 2020, I think that was sort of the end of my coaching career.

Q4 [00:08:52] I was coached by you on the Cos Cob Crushers. Do you have any unique memories from our time together, on the Crushers staff, or Miles this time or anything? Could you just touch on those experiences and what it meant to you?

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:09:13] Where do I start? The first thing I remember. I remember when I first started coaching and I was teaching people. Were you probably I don't know what you guys, we call it one step through it. We literally take one step to make sure you're in good position right? And doing it over and over and over and everybody is like, this is boring, coach, can we do more? And me trying to get you guys to buy into the system that this is going to work. I promise you it's going to work. And then as you guys got older, by the time we got to game time, all of a sudden we realized that it didn't work like that. And just the way in which, you know, you play on a team for two years and for Miles, he's a year older than you are, right? It was cool that every time you all came together, y'all won as bantams and then, you know, the juniors, they didn't win. You guys moved up. The next year we won. After juniors even went to seniors. You guys weren’t there, they didn't win. You guys moved up. And so what I realized was that I had this really unique combination of guys with Miles and Cliff and then you Teddy and Jake, and what it was was by the time you guys got to me, you know, that's what I was trying to do. And that became fun. Y'all saw it y'all again to see what it meant to move people out of the way. All of a sudden we had like the best rushing team around, you know, couple that were really good running backs. That comes from the things going undefeated man. You know Miles’ last year you guys just dominated everybody. So you know guys that were really close right. Right. And this is sort of was like bragging when other coaches came to me to tell me how good the line was. And everybody kept saying it was because you guys were big and y'all were. But the truth is, man, I have another coach who understands football. And he goes, man, you get those guys are really well coached. And that was the biggest thing. That was the biggest compliment to me is that you you guys are big. But I'm a huge fan of big guys too. But they were big. They weren't good. You guys were big. You were good. You were athletic. And y'all worked together as a unit for sure.

Q5 [00:11:29] Can you just talk about the connection between the GYFL, and either Greenwich High School or Brunswick or both, and what it means to each respectfully.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:12:05] Let me tell you, man. So the GYFL has a lot of respect in particular from the high school level programs in this area. Whether it's Greenwich, it's Brunswick, or Greenwich Country Day. Every time I talk to a coach from there, and I mean, one of my favorite things I loved as a coach was when all those high school football coaches came out. And what it did, man. And you were one of the games where it was like a community event, right? Right. Not so much that it was just a bunch of boys. But then you have the guys that used to play. They come out, you know, guys that, you know, played ten, 15 years ago, come out in their jerseys every once in a while to come watch the teams. Obviously they have their own kids. There's the level of pride that you have there, you know. And that was cool to be there. And so it took a little while. I remember when Miles was in middle school. And, you know, for Brunswick. And so I probably could get in trouble for people who would come to Brunswick. Right. I kept trying to tell the coach from Miles in middle school. I knew him personally. He was a good friend of mine. I'm like, listen man, there is some serious talent on this roster, right? And you need to come check this up. Even if he's not trying to recruit people, at least come watch your Brunswick boys play and see how well they're playing the game and how well they know the game. Right? So it wasn't about recruiting. It was about coming to support those kids who play at Brunswick, who live in Greenwich, who work out there every single weekend, three days a week, you know, practicing. And so I remember the first time, his name was Coach Sean Gerard signed. And when Gerard came over, him being blown away by the level of skill that was out there and what he saw. It was actually really good football. And that was one of the first things he said to me, man, those kids are really well coached. And then all of a sudden I think Brunswick now comes out. And again, it's not always about your support. Take people away from the public school. A lot of people see that's what's going on. It's actually not what it is. A lot of coach, too, to support those boys at Brunswick, because he wants to see, you know, who are we at school? All right. So that was really fun for me, man. And then, you know, I got on the GYFL board. And so being able to sit with those guys, and it was women talking about the program and how we, you know, bigger impacts on boys. That was really cool to me.

Q6 [00:14:30] Can you talk about some moments where you may have seen a challenge in the population of the league or the amount of kids who signed up, or if there were any challenges with rules or, an uproar from the community with any issues that they had or any moments where you might have experienced, some difficulty.

Bobby Walker Jr. [00:14:58] We had some big scares in the league, right? The first one being when the first reports, were being recorded in the NFL anaboutd a connection between CTE and people constantly having head collisions and working those windows and people. A lot of parents, parents and the number of kids dropped to really dangerously low levels to sustain, you know, six teams with three levels each. And so as a team. We have to talk to parents, but be very honest. You know, we weren't going to say, oh, he's not real, right? We're not going to tell falsehoods, but we have to talk about what things were we doing as coaches to try to make sure that we're stable young boys heads. Right. And so, you know, this whole movement went out to cause youth football in general. Coach, you behaved out of the game. And we made it a priority that we retrained all our coaches. How to teach tackling, how to teach, blocking with all modern ways, and not from the, you know, those of us who played in the 80s and 90s where you were taught to be with your head. And so I thought that was actually really cool, not only as a come closer community that we come into that, but you saw the GYFL as a team, try to get everybody to commit to this new way of teaching. And so it became mandatory that if you were a coach, you also had to be certified. And, you know, while I was in youth football, I forgot the name of the, Federation, but we all had to be certified. And if you are certified, you could not get on the sideline. Coach. I thought that was a genius move. I thought it was a great way to to acknowledge the fears that people have and, and and to acknowledge what the studies were revealing. But it was also a way to, let us know that we do have your best interests in mind. And no, we're not going to put him in any kind of, you know, life threatening, life changing situation. So that was one. And then obviously the biggest one recently being just Covid and how that we, you know, how we conduct how we conduct practices during Covid, how we keep kids safe during Covid. You know, that was a big major challenge where like and there was just one of the guidelines were allowed to operate under was the high school and other people doing so? You know, things like that.

[tgh2023]

Nirali Bhatia: A Wizard Of Cyber Psychology

“I am enjoying wearing three different professional hats – Business Woman, Trainer & Counsellor and Cyber professional.”

Nirali Bhatia (Cyber Psychologist & Psychotherapist)

“Hitting us on our sentiments, cybercriminals have mastered the art of deception using emotions”, says Nirali Bhatia. The growing influence of cyberbullying incidents is taking a serious hit on people and becoming a leading cause of anxiety, depression and even suicide. Spreading awareness about the dark side of the online world and cyberbullying, Nirali is the first Cyber & Counselling Psychologist in the country. She was also the part of popular MTV show, Troll Police, as an official therapist and on-set counsellor. The show was based on tracking the trolls of Bollywood personalities and unmasking their realities. 

With the mission to combat the evil of cyberbullying, Nirali Bhatia creates awareness about cyber threats and their effects. She is the Founder of Cyber B.A.A.P, an acronym for “Cyber Bullying Awareness, Action and Prevention”.

For 2 consecutive years, the Cyber Psychologist has been bestowed with recognition as ‘India’s top Women Influencer in Cyber Security’.

In a conversation with The Global Hues, Nirali sheds light on the mysterious cyber world and discusses the importance of spreading awareness about the same.

Give us a glimpse of yourself and your journey as a Cyber Psychologist. 

It has been a wonderful journey of two decades of being a Businesswoman, Trainer & Counsellor and Cyber professional, and is still on. I began my career by teaching how to make websites way back in 1997 and moved on to front-end development with V4WEB and soon led the young dynamic team of the company.

My keen interest in the human psyche led me to the next milestone of my career which was Usability (user behaviour) Analyst. Diving deeper into user behaviour study motivated me to take up my second master’s in Psychology which led me to the next milestone of my career in “Cyber Psychology”.

My shift to entering the cyber security domain was gradual. As IT professionals running a web services company, we kept receiving cases of cybercrimes, website hacking, and cybersquatting. Growing website attacks, data breaches, cybercrimes & harassment led us to establish “V4WEB Cybersecurity” to offer cybersecurity services & cybercrime investigations as our niche.

The next milestone of my career was founding an anti-cyberbullying organisation called Cyber B.A.A.P. which stands for Cyberbullying Awareness Action & Prevention as I was deeply concerned about the fact that there was very little or no information available on how to deal with growing cyber crimes & harassment. Cyber B.A.A.P. is a portal to educate users on cyber harassment & offer the victims much-needed guidance & counselling. 

Cyber Psychology is still a new profession in India. What inspired you to pursue a career in the cyber domain?

Cyber Psychology is still a very new concept to take up as a professional. I am privileged to be the first Cyber Psychologist in the country. Being a mother of a teenager, I am also concerned about what my child is seeing on the internet.

The usage of the internet has grown in quite a few domains, be it education, entertainment, or gaming. Children are directly exposed to the online world. So, that’s all when the transition happened and I started using the knowledge in two main fields i.e., the research domain (why does this happen?) and Prevention – that’s when awareness and counselling work starts.

As a cyber expert, tell us the basic steps we can take to prevent ourselves from falling into the cyber attack trap. 

First and foremost, we should be aware of cyber hygiene and follow cyber etiquette. Always be polite with everyone in the cyber world because in that space we can only perceive the message and hence you cannot really tell when your one comment or message hurt them.

The other thing is not to panic when you receive any message or warnings. Cybercriminals hit on our emotions and trick us when our logical reasoning abilities are off guard. They deliberately create panic so that a person falls into their trap by clicking on the link.

Why is it so hard to catch cybercriminals?

The anonymity has become a double-edged sword for us. Cybercriminals hide behind anonymity and commit fraud. These criminals are getting technically smart and well-equipped and that is also the reason they cannot be tracked. The tracking process is very long and time taking.

The other reason why it is so difficult to catch cybercriminals is that people are not reporting the incidents. There is a huge gap between cyber reporting and getting a resolution due to our law & order process which does not encourage the victim to report. 

As a Cyber Psychologist and expert, I would like to humbly request people that if such things happen to you, come forward and report it. Your one step today may save someone else’s life.

What would your advice be for young cyber enthusiasts?

The Cyberworld is facilitating the real world, not replacing it. So do not forget to live in the real world. You can have a safe experience in cyberspace if you practise these 2 principles – “Practising the Pause” & “Zero trust”.

[texasthegreatdestroyer]

Another interesting thing I was sent. Just saying my guy. If your simself is constantly getting mistaken for being white, then you're white passing and need the to shut the fuck up about dem whities, because you are quite obviously not dark enough to have the same experiences as POC. Especially so when you run around calling yourself literal Native American slurs and you look like one of those people who say they're native American all because you're 1/16.

P.S. Gotta add one more thing. Apparently Gyarutrait now branded as corpsetrait calls themself intersex because they have PCOS. Speaking as someone who also has PCOS, you're not intersex darling. You go to Google and do even a tiny bit of research, you'll find that it's not medically recognized as a form of intersex, and that's because when PCOS is actually managed, the male characteristics tend to go away. PCOS causes an abnormal boost of testosterone which causes women who have it to gain weight, have an insulin resistance (we're predisposed to diabetes as a result of this.) And to grow facial hair amongst other things, but again, when these things are managed through levothroxyn and other thyroid meds (because PCOS also attacks the thyroid.) Those things can be managed, causing the outward male characteristics to go away over time. Where as intersex individuals have to go through surgeries to correct their intersex traits as being intersex is SPECIFICALLY defined as having reproductive tissue of both biological sexes within you. In short, If your only basis for you being intersex is that you have PCOS. Go educate yourself because you genuinely sound ignorant, and what you're saying is actually harmful to both people who struggle with PCOS and people who are intersex.

[thepenguinlad]

You know what? I get it. reckoning with racism as a white person is hard.

but you have to stop fucking talking about how hard it is.

I saw a post recently which, in part, talked about the stresses this person underwent when doing antiracist work in their life. Things like dealing with familial conflict when they were trying to educate, decentering their emotions when listening to people of color, learning about how fucked up colonial institutions are, trying to not take shit personally while still doing important self-reflection. And this stuff can take time!

But the truth us that this is the same shit that you have to learn to be a functional goddamn adult with healthy relationships.

Read the list again.

Conflict resolution? Check

Active and supportive listening? Check

Self examining and working to grow as a person? Check

Learning that most things are, in fact, not fucking about you (even though they still involve you)?

Fucking check

So I need you all to do something for me

1. Do not go to me or my friends whining, I will not answer you unless you say something insightful or substantial

2. Quit fucking focusing on, worrying over, and centering how fucking hard antiracist work is. Life is hard! Being a non-awful person takes time and work and care! But the more you fucking talk about that, the more that that becomes All There Is. You are focusing on your pain, your fear, and your anger, instead of the hope, the love, and the liberation we are working towards for people of color everywhere. And that will only drag all of us down.

Now this is a bit of a tangent, but bear with me. I'm indigenous, and trying to learn the language of my mother's people. This language has a lot of sounds that aren't made in English at all, and a very different grammatical structure. It takes effort and time to become fluent. When I go to study it, when I only think about how difficult it is and how frustrated I am, learning anything is an impossible task. All There Is is how difficult it is. Is this mindset going to bring me into a loving and joyous relationship with my heritage and community? Fuck no! When things are hard, I have to make myself focus on the things that matter: my ancestors, my family, my fucking heritage. I have to return to the love. Black lives matter is a righteous rallying cry as well as a beautiful affirmation of the inherent value of every single black person. That is why you are doing this, and it's where you need to ground yourself.

Final thing. Do me a favor and picture me as a friend. I am not attacking you, villainizing you, or othering you. I say this out of love and a deep desire for BIPOC Liberation. Try to take in the spirit of my words, even if not all of them are perfect.

This is also me encouraging all people of color who see this to free yourself. You do not need to make room for white fragility or white guilt. I Love You.

[haztory]

hi mcdonald’s can i get uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh nanami + “nice tits”

“Nice tits.” from my writing event that ends today! 

 warnings: adult language and sexual themes, but that’s about it!

a/n: 3k words all for sanju that probably strays from the prompts but its fine bc i love you biiiiitch. thanks to everyone that requested a prompt! they will be out momentarily!!

nanami kento x gn!reader

There’s a universal understanding amongst the adults in the general realm of well-formed maturity and a sense of responsibility that there is no situation to ever exist in which listening to Gojo Satoru’s advice is a viable option. 

Much less any advice about love.

“You know,” His voice sings to your left, interrupting the tranquil silence of your office by his surprise warping, “If you needed help in satisfying your urges, you only had to ask. Looking at porn during school hours is a bit of a cry for help, (Y/N).”

“Go away, Gojo.” You reply, hardly perturbed at his unannounced visit and continuing the matter at hand. Your index finger continues its motions, pushing the wheel of the mouse downwards and studying the plethora of Google Search images the float past your eyes on your computer monitor.

Gojo leans his elbow on your desk, perching himself on the left side of your body, “Hey, I don’t judge! I’ve done it once or twice myself. I just always pictured you as more of an ass-person.”

Landing on an appropriate image for your task you click it, enlarging it on your screen. Gojo whistles.

“Now that’s just obscene, isn’t it?”

A finger enters your line of sight, pointing itself obnoxiously at the screen, specifically at the rather large pectoral belonging to that of a male model. An image that is necessary for your study of a new cursed technique that you witnessed on your last excursion with Nobara, and not at all the focus of sexual release as Gojo might insist. Even if they are rather admirable in their size. 

You would rather die before ever telling him that, though.

“They should really put a warning on those honkers—”

“Is there a reason you’re bothering me?” You ask bluntly, printing the image and retrieving it from the printer tray beside you.

“I just wanted to see what my second favorite teacher was doing, but never did I think I would catch you in the act of making a shrine to tits, so—”

You roll your head to the left, meeting Gojo’s shit-eating grin with a deadpan stare. With a sigh, you shake your head, “I’m studying.”

Even beneath the blindfold, you can see the waggle in his brows as he props his head on the bent elbow. “Oh suuure.”

Huffing impatiently, you swivel your desk chair to face him, placing a singular finger on his chest to push him back from your immediate space. He only continues to grin in his usual unabashed manner, as though he’s caught you red-handed. It makes you roll your eyes once more.

 You didn’t need to explain yourself; it wasn’t like you were doing anything immoral. Sure, staring at a number of pectoral muscles might seem inappropriate to the passing eye, but it was easily explainable. 

But as it always is with Gojo, he manages to rub that small part of you that just has to fight back. Fuckin’ prick. “We came across a cursed technique two days ago that targeted the chest. It caused—”

Gojo waves his hand in your face, “Seismic tremors in the pectoral muscles that affected a cursed energy point, yeah, yeah. Nobara told me all about it.”

“If you knew what I was doing why are you making me sound like such a creep?!” You exclaim, kicking his chest with the heel of your shoe. He catches your foot with a laugh, dropping it and holding his index finger upward.

“Because it’s fun to tease you.”

Huffing, you turn back to your monitor and point at the door, “Leave.”

“Oh, come onnn,” He warps in front of your computer, leaning himself over the top of the screen, “I’ve brought you a little gift of knowledge to help your studying.”

Even as he desperately tries to insert his gangly arms into your line of vision, you continue typing into the search bar. Some variations of “pectoral”, “muscles”, and “large men”. For research purposes, of course.

“Oh yeah?” You ask noncommittally, knowing full well the manner in which Gojo dangles his plots of mischief disguised as help, “And what would that be?”

Smiling largely once more, he lets out a giggle, “The larger the muscle, the more potent the attack on the cursed energy.”

Sparing him a quick glance, you mumble, “Doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.”

“No, but it does take a genius to figure out how to reverse the effects.”

He stops the statement there; grin audible in his words. After having spent years in the presence of the obnoxious Gojo Satoru, you already know there’s an ulterior motive to his words, something that is going to bite you in the ass rather aggressively.

And as much as you want to avoid being in the line of fire, especially the one directed by him, you’re simultaneously dying to know where this is going.

You hesitate to ask, but it comes out. Dripping in all of its cautiousness. “And?”

“And it also takes a willing participant to study.” His smile, in all impossibility, became even wider.

“I’m still not getting the picture.”

“A participant with rather large pectoral muscles.”

Oh.

Oh no.

“Someone who would willingly participate for the sake of education.”

Of all the people to have figured out about your (not so) little crush on a fellow sorcerer, it had to be the world’s largest idiot and nuisance. You had to end this, now. Before he does something so irrevocably stupid— 

“Shall we go ask Nanami?”

And that’s how you find yourself flushed with absolute mortification, gripping your clipboard with tight knuckles against your chest, wondering how you ever managed to forget the utmost important rule when it comes to Gojo Satoru.

Never listen to him, especially on the matter of love. 

Maybe that’s indicative of the state of your crush as a whole, something you should probably pay more attention to, seeing as the minute Nanami Kento was mentioned, you’ve forgotten the extent of logic and reason and followed the whims of Gojo without hesitation. 

It’s problematic, horrifying, and ultimately a monumental issue at the moment considering your mouth is as dry as a desert and your brain absolute mush, rendering you completely unable to formulate any words.

“Wow, Nanami,” Gojo shamelessly says, one hand shoved in his pocket as he stands beside your frozen figure, “Nice tits.”

Nanami hums unenthusiastically, unbuttoning the last button on his blue shirt and elegantly removing it from his large, muscular frame. Folding it neatly on the expanse of the couch beside him, he turns his stoic gaze back to you, hardly even concerned about his half-nakedness. 

Whereas you felt yourself almost drooling at the revealed expanse of firm muscles peppered with sparse hair. The fact that it was that easy to get to see this, to almost be able to touch it— 

Maybe listening to Gojo isn’t a bad idea after all.

“Shall we begin?” Nanami asks, pulling his glasses off of his face with his (large) hands and folding them on top of his shirt. A strand of blond falls onto the front of his face and his gaze trails from the impassive stare at Gojo, to you. 

And by all that is sweet and holy you swear that you’ve ascended to an ethereal plane and before you sits an angel waiting to take you to the pearly gates. No longer stares a man unamused at the teasing of the white-headed idiot beside you, but instead a celestial being with a body made of pure stone and dare you say, looking at you with a tenderness in his gaze that was absent only a moment before.

An elbow digs into your side, pulling you rather dramatically out of your stupor and towards the smug grin of the man beside you. 

“Well?” Gojo asks, “If you’re not going to touch him, I will.”

“Thank you, Gojo, but I can take it from here,” You all but hiss, pushing him once more away from your body, accompanying the action with a pointed glare. Beginning a backward trek towards the door, he holds his hands up in surrender.

“Alright, alright. I can see when I’m not wanted. I’ll be back in half an hour.”

Opening the door and stepping out of it, he halts, turning his head to look over his shoulder and says, voice coated in that familiar tone of teasing, “Remember to use condoms, lovebirds!”

He shuts the door quickly, hardly giving you a chance to spear your ire at his retreating figure, but you have half a mind to chase him down the hall when you hear his echoing laughter ring out. 

An awkward silence settles between you and the man of your horrid fascination that not even an uncomfortable laugh can ease. Clearing your throat and trying to remember your sense of professionalism, you straighten your shoulders and take a deep breath, facing the handsome man with a confidence that was growing incredibly difficult to face. 

“I’m going to touch you. For research. Your chest, specifically.”

In a move you’ve never quite seen before, Nanami sheds that formidable air of quiet stoicism and lets a small smile grace the features of his face. It gently pushes against the corners of his mouth and his bare shoulders move the slightest bit with the exhalation of his amused breath. 

“For the tremors in the pectoralis.” He says, leaning his body to rest against the backing of the couch, straightening his legs wearing their usual tan slacks to rest naturally in the position and hands folding in his lap. 

You gulp. “Y-yes.”

“I read your report.”

“You did?”

“I always do,” With his eyes still trained upon yours you can see them widen a bit at the realization of what he’s said as if that were an intimate detail he hadn’t meant to make you aware of. He quickly brings his fist up to his mouth, clearing his throat, “You are one of the few sorcerers here that fill them out correctly. I learn a great deal from your detailing. It’s… very helpful. You’re very thorough.”

Blinking repeatedly, you only nod at the compliment. Despite wanting to combust internally at the growing flames that burn inside of you, you take a step forward. Then another until, in an unforeseen reversal of circumstances, you’re towering over the man of great strength and respect. The man you’ve admired for the longest time.

The man that continues to stare at you with a softness you’ve never seen him reveal before. 

You can see the spattering of freckles that have intricately placed themselves over his broad shoulders resembling that of an artistic constellation and the delicious protruding of his biceps, great in mass yet telling of his of strength as your try to conservatively trail your eyes over his torso.

He’s beautiful, incredibly so. Baring himself to you in this way only affirms that.

 “Thank you,” you breathe out, and it’s more intimate than you intended it to be, but truthfully, it’s as fitting a phrase as it can be considering the proximity and the intensity behind his stare.

It’s all you can give him without crumbling at his feet. Placing your fingertips against his shoulder, you gently push him back, silently instructing him to lay on the couch. He follows suit like the dutiful sorcerer he is.

“I’ll just be examining the way in which your cursed energy extends from your chest. It shouldn’t hurt, but if you feel uncomfortable, just let me know.”

He hums once more from his supine position on the couch. Despite being much larger than the couch allows, he hardly looks uncomfortable. Only watches the way in which you press your fingers into his chest, pushing into his muscle and slowly massaging your finger in a circle. You circle around the left side, trailing around the outer edge of the muscle and above the rib cage, stopping and pressing rather firmly when you feel a surge in an energy presence beneath the skin. Almost on the center of his chest.

You snort a quiet laugh when you realize where it is.

“Should I be worried?” His deep timbre vibrates your indented fingers drawing your focus to his interested stare. He looks relaxed, the usual crease between his brow hardly recognizable. A stark refute to the question he posed.

You quickly shake your head, smiling growing wryer, “No, not at all. I just… think it’s funny that your energy presence is strongest where your heart is.”

Nanami quirks an eyebrow, “Isn’t that the same for everyone?”

“Would it be much of a surprise if I told you Gojo’s comes from his mouth?”

Nanami rolls his head, a breathless laugh exhaling as he stares at the ceiling. “No, I guess it wouldn’t.”

“Everyone has a different point from which their energy roots itself. Each one gives a different feeling of sorts. It doesn’t really mean much in terms of power and technique, but it is noticeable. You have an overwhelming presence as is, I just…” Your shoulders drop with a sigh, one stemming desperately from loving admiration and instead try to disguise as just an exhalation, “…never realized it came from there. Kind of fitting if you ask me.”

His brows furrow in contemplation, unsure if whether he could accept the statement. Unsure of whether it was a fitting examination or compliment for him. He must deem it something insignificant of his ponderance because he quickly moves on.

“And yours?” He asks, alight with curiosity, “Where does yours come from?”

You hum, grateful to finally shed the last remnants of awkwardness and engage in the usual friendly conversation you tend to have with him. The brief discussions that always prod a little too close for friendly discovery, but never breach the line of professional respect. That self-imposed limitation that you desperately wish he’ll cross, that this conversation is once again coming toward.

“Take a guess.” Allowing that lilting tease to infiltrate your words, you watch as Nanami adjusts himself on the couch. Bracing his arms against the cushion, he pushes himself into a sitting position and crosses his arms. Trailing his eyes over your seated body next to him, he leaves a burning trail in his wake.

He fixates on your face for a second and your breath hitches, before he travels downward over the column of your neck, then your chest, to your legs. Drinking you in as per your consent and request. Then, he extends his hand. Palm facing upwards in a silent request. You understand.

Placing your own hand in his, he turns your hand upward, allowing full access to the center of your hand and tracing his finger over the lines.

“Your hands. That’s your center.” He says with finality, monotonous but confident. With a small smirk, he looks up at you, “You are a healer after all.”

You give a small nod, “I’m not sure if it comes from my fingertips or my palm, but yeah. My hands.”

Looking back down at your hand in his, he traces the finger in a circle, “Palm. That’s where I feel it the most.”

“What does it feel like?” You ask with a laugh, expecting something asinine and noncommittal considering Yuuji once said your presence felt like a cool wind on a summer’s day and Nobara insists that it feels like a warm shower.

Two entirely opposite feelings, yet somehow categorized in the schema of comfort. You hardly expect Nanami to give something so introspective, nor anything that reveals too much considering the extent to which he tends to maintain the boundary of respect in the conversations of explorations. The kind in which two people teeter on the thin ice of interest, yet never voice it.

And yet, his eyes connect with yours again, and it's entirely too overwhelming for you to process. Too interested, too warm. His face betrays no nervousness nor any hesitation as he stares, entirely convinced that this is what was meant to happen. As though he knew from the moment Gojo asked that it was going to unfold this way.

Like he prepared for it. Like he decided today was the day that he crossed that line.

“Home. Warm and comforting.”

Slow heat the creeps its way up your spine that makes your brain halt thought altogether and sputter intelligently, “Gojo’s kind of feels like… tar. Thick tar. Super gross.”

His hand, large and warm, encompasses your hand once more, lays it flat against his chest to feel both his exuding energy and the steady beat of his formidable heart.

“And mine?” He asks, low and gravelly. Like sweet honey that has you captured entirely, unable to escape. Not like you want to. No, you’d rather drown in this overwhelming redolence than ever live without it.

You don’t even realize your breathing heavily, nor that his face has gotten closer to yours. When did he move there? Did you move there?

Either way, his face is in front of yours, noses almost touching and the compulsion to answer him on the tip of your tongue.

“Addicting,” you whisper.

And then his lips are on yours, molding sweetly into you, and it's everything you have ever imagined it to be. Slow, yet firm. Warm and craving, and you can only fight for more, more, more.

His hand moves to the back of your neck, pulling you in impossibly closer and you place your hands on his bare chest, the great reason as to your current predicament entirely, to steady yourself and your erratic heartbeat. Time seems to slow in the passion of his kiss, and yet when he parts for air, you feel as though you only had him for a second.

All the months of pining could barely make up for that singular moment.

“I’ve been meaning to do that for a while,” He says, leaning his forehead against yours, breath fanning over your aching lips. You scoff in laughter, meeting his smile with one of your own.

So, maybe, just maybe, listening to Gojo wasn’t a bad idea. And maybe, sometimes, he’s right about some things.

“Hey Kento?”

“Yes?”

“You really do have nice tits.”

“Likewise.”

[bibbykins]

Cookies and Fingertips (M)

Some Jimin loving! We love to see it! I hope you all enjoy this installation as I try to figure out how to properly flesh out characters in a drabble series. Am not sure how I’m doing there but I hope you all enjoy it nonetheless. As always, tips are not required but greatly appreciated, just like your thoughts! Pls share your thoughts though, they brighten my day!

Note: This is part of a drabble series The Household’s Bunny

Summary: You and Jimin met long before you moved in, and yet, you’re not sure if he even likes you. So what else is there to do but take every opportunity to talk to him until you figure it out? 

Jimin has had a debilitating crush on you long before you moved in and he is almost positive there is no way you’d feel the same. And yet, he doesn’t have the strength to properly avoid you.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: 18+, soft yandere-ish, obsessive thoughts, possessive thoughts, fingering, handjob, subspace, cum eating (sorta?), discussion of hospitalization, mentions of a stalker, mentions of passing out, the word “fat” is used, a moment of thigh riding, surprise kiss, insecurity

Jimin looked across the courtyard as his eyes remained fixated on your form. You were a simple second year in college and he was just a breath away from graduating. He first laid eyes on you a mere year ago and he can't remember what life was truly like before you smiled at him. You both had only ever exchanged pleasantries, so he opted to wait for the right time to make his move.

“That’s not true.” Your voice snapped Jimin from his staring contest with the PowerPoint slides, “That’s an antiquated idea, not a proven theory.” He looked to you, a couple rows down. You were plump and cute to say the least. He recognized you from a few of his courses. He had heard you were a double major in Art and… damn, what was the other?

The man you had rebutted had his face turning red, “It is proven, it was studied in 1973 with significant results yielded.” Jimin had no idea what you both were debating but he watched a sea of student nod in agreeance with you, some with the guy. What class was he even in? He looked at the PowerPoint slides, reading them for the first time today. Ah, he was in his psych of gender class. Maybe you were a psych major.

“In 1973, with no women in the participant pool, are you not seeing the issue in making a multi-gendered generalization whilst utilizing one genders perspective, a perspective that is also quite dated, mind you?” You cocked a brow and Jimin found himself a bit amused at the man who scoffed.

“You learn those words in high school two months ago?” He snapped back and Jimin grimaced along with most of the lecture hall. 

“What? You need me to define them?” You quipped, eliciting some laughter as the professor regrouped.

“Ah, educational discourse.” The professor joked lightly as Jimin’s eyes remained fixed on you as you noticed a few lingering gazes on you, shrinking in your seat.

He saw you in the lunch hall, sitting alone, not uncommon for anyone in college, except your eyes were a bit puffy. Before he could even question the urge, he acted. Within a few steps, he was at your table and you looked up in confusion, “Uh, hi?” You meekly spoke and Jimin realized he had no plan.

“U-Uh, you… uh… do you like the cookies?” He forced out and immediately wished he could disappear.

You looked down at the cookie on your plate, “Uh, yes? Is-Is this a fat joke or do you actually want to know?” You asked cautiously.

Jimin’s eyes widened, “No, I mean yes, I mean no, I would never make fun of your weight.” He squeezed his eyes and sighed, not able to see your growing smile at his mental turmoil, “I have psych of gender with you and people rarely talk in that class so I thought you were pretty cool.” He smiled and he noticed you relax.

You nodded, smiling slightly, “Ah, I see. Thank you.” You beamed and it was like he felt the warmth from you, “I don’t do super well with attention but I also have poor impulse control.” You chuckled and he finally understood why you had cried and his heart strings were tugged a bit, “And yes, the cookies are good.” You split one in half and offered it to him.

Life goes by a lot quicker when one waits for the perfect opportunity. This much he found out quickly when he found himself a year later, looking across the courtyard at you, this time as your TA. He tried dating to get the daunting idea of talking to you after that singular interaction in which he forgot to give you his name from his mind to no avail. No matter, surely this would be the year.

”Jiminie is so hot!” Jimin continued to pretend not to hear his ex, Yoora, whine in your ear as he observed the intro to modern dance class.

You looked to her thoughtfully as you stretched, “You mean the TA, that is not that far away?” Your voice was lowered, but he could still hear you. He found himself listening closer, wondering if you remembered the singular interaction you both had. Yoora nodded in the corner of his eye.

“Yep.” She affirmed, “We dated, it was magical, and he’s still hot.” She mused and Jimin grimaced a bit, feeling bad he dated a girl that seemed to be a decent friend of yours, “Do you know him?”

Jimin perked up a bit, “We talked once, seems nice, is obviously hot.” You shrugged, “I doubt he remembers me, though.” You leaned down to reach past your left foot as Yoora urged you on with her eyes, “I had gotten into a weird debate with this one dude in a class we had and he saw me after, and I had just cried because I hate arguing and stares.” You and Yoora laughed a bit, “Then, he just came up to me and asked if I liked the cookies I were eating, and I wasn’t sure if he was calling me fat at first.” Yoora gasped and Jimin felt pain just thinking about the awkwardness, “He wasn’t, and he got cutely flustered when I asked and then I gave him half of my cookie and that’s all.” You moved to your other leg, “And then he never talked to me again.” You laughed and Jimin wanted the floor to swallow him.

Another year goes by. The day before he was going to try and ask you out, you were hospitalized. He didn't know how to even approach the topic with you, but he did try to be there for you throughout that year. The professor he was TA for insisted Jimin also utilize his emails, so all throughout your brief stay in medical care, it was him who received your bubbly emails. The emails full of little emoticons and exclamation points that made him giddy and took him hours to conceptualize a response to. Although you didn't know it was him giving you extensions and safe regards, he still meant it. 

He was practicing when he got the email, 

“Attention students, 

We have received knowledge of an incident that has resulted in the hospitalization of a student that occurred within an apartment close to campus. Proper authorities have been notified and the student is recovering well. Please remain safe and vigilant.” 

His face twisted in confusion when he got a text from the professor he was TA for that you were the student in question.

Throughout the semester, Jimin watched you with careful eyes as you slowly acclimated back to yourself. He wondered how he could have been so blinded by your smile that he couldn't properly see your eye bags or the way you looked over your shoulder when you thought no one was looking at you, or how he couldn't see he wasn't the only one looking at you. 

When you returned, he watched your eyes relax and your guard go down again. He just wished he could've been there to help you get there. He trudged home one day and found you, and then his whole world was flipped by you again.

Since moving in, he found himself way more advanced with you than he ever imagined. You would plop next to him on the couch and give him a smile, "How was your day, Jiminie?" You beamed at him each time and he nearly choked on his spit each time.

He would mumble an answer and you would hum before watching TV with him, a show he deliberately put on each time he heard you come home. Eventually, you began watching competition shows together, theorizing who would win what. It was comfortable and close, and he found himself falling for you even harder.

"Do you wanna have lunch together?" Your voice pulled him from his thoughts in the practice room he had on his floor in the building. He had agreed to help with your final. The only time he could talk to you without it being a mental nightmare was when it was about dancing. The only time he could initiate contact was in this studio. 

The studio gave him a certain air of confidence that even you could see. He wasn't a different person, more so multi-faceted. There was the shy and bumbling part of Jimin just as much as there was the sharp-eyed and focused Jimin. Not to mention the way his fingers would dance on your form as he gave you pointers made you unreasonably aroused.

Even so, determined to challenge himself, he nodded, "Lead the way." His voice was smooth even after two straight hours of practice and you wondered how he could look so hot work out clothes.

You both decided to pick up food and eat it at the studio. You sat across from each other as you ate in polite conversation. It was after you both picked up the food and sat on the floor you spoke up again, "You know, Jiminie." You started, eyes shyly fixated on the floor, "I wanted to thank you for not telling the guys about my, uh, incident a year ago." You finally looked him in the eyes, a soft smile on your face, "Not that it's a huge secret, especially on campus, but I just prefer to tell people myself." You mused.

He blinked, surprised you would thank him for something like that, "O-Of course, I mean, a lot of rumors were going around anyways, so even if I did want to tell them, I doubt I have only the facts." He shrugged, "It's not anyone else's business regardless."

You stifled a little giggle, "Yeah, some of the stories got a bit crazy." You sighed a bit, "From a stalker attacking me to me passing out in the middle of the street." Jimin looked up at you. You didn’t meet his gaze, most likely reliving the aftermath of the whole campus finding out you were hospitalized and are a cam girl in the same week. Not that you were ever hiding you job, but you just wished you could tell people on your own terms.

"Yeah, some crazy things get told in the Arts department." He murmured, "I only knew most of the facts because your TA for Professor Lee's class."

It was your turn to look up, but instead of confusion he saw a polite smile, "I know, silly." You chuckled and when you saw his confused face you looked at him incredulously, "Come on, you're Park Jimin! Of course I'm gonna know the 'hottest dance major'" You fake gushed and he finally broke a laugh, making you giddy. 

"Of all things to know me by." He shook his head, smile still present.

You studied his face as his eyes scrunched and cheeks lifted, making you smile as well, "I've never made you smile before and your smile is so pretty." You mused, "I need to step up my comedy game."

"You've never seen me smile?" He looked surprised at this, considering he always smiled like an idiot when he stared longingly at you.

"I mean, sort of, but not to this degree." You shook your head, "I was starting to think you didn't like me for a while." 

His eyes widened at this and he panicked, "No, no! I do like you, a lot!" He exclaimed, much to your amusement and to his dismay. You watched him get red with a grin.

He stammered, staring at his fork before he heard your melodious laugh. He looked up and his face softened at the sight of your smile, "You're too cute, Jiminie." You reached forward and pinched his cheek, making his breath hitch. Your cooing tone made something click inside him. He didn't want to be just cute to you, he wanted to be more than any adjective, he wanted to be yours.

He reached up, hand going to wrap around your wrist loosely, "I was the hottest a second ago and now I'm just cute?" A glint of confidence shown in his eye as he made you gulp, "Is that all you think of me, y/n?" Your own name coming from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine and a beat to your core.

You were in a trance while being eyed by the man with a vastly different energy than he had just moments ago. You shook your head lightly, "I think you're beautiful." He cocked a brow and you scrambled for more words, "I had a huge crush on you from the moment I gave you half of my cookie." You breathed before even thinking, snapping you back to reality as you watched his eyes widen, "Ah, me and my mouth!" You admonished yourself, "I didn't mean to make you uncomf-" You frantically moved to take your hand back only for his grip to tighten, pulling you forward, placing your hand at the nape of his neck while his arm wrapped around your waist.

You gulped at the newfound closeness, bodies nearly pressing against each other as he eyed you sharply, "Do you mean it?" He breathed, "You had a crush on me?" You made a move to slink away, but you he gracefully laid himself down with you on top of him, his thigh mere centimeters from your core and he gave you a mischievous smile, "Don't leave me hanging." He teased.

"I-I mean… yes, but can-"

He cut you off with a sigh and a laugh. You braced yourself for him to laugh at you, and say how weird it would be had you confessed and how weird the idea of you two together would be.

It's a song and dance you've seen many times as a hopeless romantic chubby girl. Of course, now you know you were just too much woman for such little men, emotionally little at the very least, but you would be a liar if you didn't still feel the hurt of humiliation. The last thing you wanted was to look into Jimin's eyes and find the same pitying glint, but you were nothing if not a bit brave, at least sometimes.

You forced your eyes from his chest to his gaze and found… an emotion you've only every seen in the eyes of your housemates, an emotion you don't quite know yet, even if you felt it too. At your curiosity, Jimin beamed at you further, "I'd be really frustrated right now if you weren’t on top of me." He chuckled a bit and explained further before you could ask why, "I have had such a huge crush on you for years now." You balk at this, shaking you head.

"That's not a funny joke, Jiminie." You huffed, "If I were even a bit more gullible, I would seriously believe you and then my feelings would be hurt-" He pulled you flush against him as he captured your mouth in a soft and sweet kiss. He was slow, but focused, in the way his mouth moved against yours.

Inside, though, Jimin was freaking out. What if you didn't actually want to kiss him? Why didn't he ask beforehand? Should he pull away? But your mouth feels so good. Are you kissing him back or is he just that enthusiastic?

You laid his worries to rest when you used the hand at his nape to pull him closer, mouth opening to nibble on his bottom lip. He groaned lightly, pulling you closer as his tongue mingled with your own and he pressed his thigh into the thin material of your leggings. You gasped at this and it was like a fire lit within him as he sat up and shifted you for your legs to be on both sides of him as he pressed his mouth onto yours further.

His fingertips danced along your form in a much different context than you were used to, but fuck, did it feel nice. Where one arm was securely holding your waist, his hand reached beneath your shirt, getting accustomed to the soft skin as he waited for you to nod. You wanted him to touch you further. You didn't understand what all these hot men wanted with you, but right now, it didn't matter one bit. 

Jimin's eyes rolled back when he reached in your sports bra to run his fingers over your hardened nipples. You twitched against him as you gasped, fingers intertwining with his hair roughly, "Shit." He groaned at the sensation.

You both sloppily kissed as he explored your chest with his hands, moaning into each other's mouths at the euphoria of unresolved feelings coming to fruition and the sexual tension finally snapping as you gave him unrestricted access to feel you beneath his fingertips, "Wanted this for so long." He murmurs into your mouth, "So beautiful, fuck." The praises don't stop, and only further spur you wandering hand on as you feel his sculpted stomach.

"Wanna touch you." You whine as your fingers play with the waistband of his sweats and he nods, his own hand travelling down to cup your core, making you squeak, "Fuck, I'm so wet." You realized, half embarrassed and half aroused.

You could feel his amusement as he slipped his hand beneath your tights and panties to make skin to skin contact with your soaked core, and he didn't know how he made it this far, but he just wants to keep going as he feels you soak his hand, "Yeah, baby, you are, just for me." He moans when you follow his lead, hand wrapping around his hardened erection and giving a small squeeze, "Shit!" He gasps as you wiggled your hips against his hand, grinding yourself little by little. 

Your hand massaged the head, smearing the precum as you begin stroking him. You both continue moaning into each other's mouths as his hips jerked and you twitched against his hands, "So fucking wet, baby, so sexy." He growled and he slipped a finger inside of you, him groaning at your pulsating warmth wrapped around his finger, "Slid right in, angel." He praises and you let out a choked gasp and he presses his thumb against your clit.

He drank your moans into his mouth like they were an oasis in the desert, and he’s not sure how he’s lived this long without them. Without you by his side and in his arms. He held you close, refusing to even consider loosening his grip because your body against his was bliss in the highest form. You were his, even if just in this moment, and you would be nobody else’s. Nobody could make him feel the way you do, and he, along with the other men that resided in the building, were determined to hold the same monopoly over your emotions. He refused to entertain the idea of anyone beyond this building making you feel anything close to what he was now as he pushed a second finger in, relishing in the strangled moan you gave as you babbled about feeling full.

With the excitement of his dream girl dripping against his hand and your own hand working expertly on his dick, Jimin could feel himself getting close and you could tell from the breathy whines he gave you as he began thrusting his hips in time with his fingers inside you, "Cum for me, Jiminie." You purred before licking at his tongue and he came beautifully with his eyes screwed shut and mouth open as you swiveled your hips agains his, now two, fingers.

"Baby, so good." He whined as his high settled down. He shifted all focus to you and your impending orgasm as he watched you fuck yourself onto his hand, "Feeling good, darling?" He asked teasingly and you nodded dumbly, lips pressed together as you felt your high approach, "I can feel you clenching around my fingers, fuck, you gonna cum in my hand all pretty?" He cooed and you nodded as he met your thrusts, making you clutch onto him harder.

"Can I cum?" You whimpered and Jimin could almost feel himself get hard again at how willing you were to give him the reigns.

"Because you asked so sweetly, of course my love." He let the name slip before you both could even acknowledge it consciously. However, the closeness and the intimacy of it all sent you over the edge and you bit down on his shoulder in attempt to hide how loud you were. He held you close, not minding one bit at the mark you were surely leaving as he fucked you through your orgasm, "Felt good, angel?" He mused and you tucked your face into his neck as you nodded, holding him close as his finger stilled but kept you full until he felt you relax. 

You both giggled as you met eyes, licking the other person's cum off of your hands, "Thank you Jiminie." You hummed cheerily.

"Thank you, bunny." He chided before giving you a kiss, "We all really, really, like you, you know that right?" He asked and noticed your hesitation.

"Sure, but people can be sexually attracted to me and not want to… be with me." You spoke wistfully, "People can like me and not want to be with me." You let out a humorless laugh, "And few things make me feel as dumb as getting my hopes up for no reason." Although you had a tendency to do it time and time again.

"Don't be scared to assume we want you as much as you, hopefully, want us." He spoke quickly before he planted another kiss on you and the affection made you smile.

"You realize the irony of the statement coming from you, right?" You chuckled as he helped you stand on shaky legs before just carrying you, "I cum once for you and all of sudden you know everything and are all confident." You chided, unsure how to process his words yet, mind hazy from your orgasm.

"What can I say? You opened my third eye." He joked and you rolled your eyes before leaning your head on his shoulder, enjoying his embrace, the idea of your housemates loving you back seeming just slightly less like an outlandish fantasy, "Although, it will wear off and then we'll have to do it all over again." He sighed dramatically and you giggled.

"What a shame." You fake gasped, "I hate engaging in sexual relations with hot guys." You complained sarcastically.

"So you do think I'm hot!" Jimin cheered triumphantly.

You laughed against him and realized the only times you felt so free were with your beloved housemates. You wondered if they felt the same. You also found a more insecure part wondering for how long they would feel that way. How long would it be until a girl, or several, much prettier than you or less needy catches their attention. You wondered if you could take the pain of watching the sincerity drain from their eyes just as you've seen in your mom, your dad, your uncle, your first relationship to your last. You wondered what it was about you that made it so easy to be left behind.

Jimin's phone pinged, ripping you from your melancholic thoughts. He sighed, pulling it out and you fought the urge to see if it was another person vying for his romantic attention. He didn't belong to you, even if you wanted him to, "Ah, Namjoon wants to know if you want the demo for the new zombie game he's working on and Jin wants to know if you'd like your first pick of the new stickers he got, and Hoseok wants to try a new hairstyle on you and ah, they all sent me something to ask you…. Gosh, they all think I'm your secretary when we're together." He whined and you held onto him tighter with a light laugh as he went through everyone's inquiries for you.

You also found yourself how you went on this long without them and how you could even consider hesitating if they asked you to stay with them for much longer.

Tip Jar

[writingsbychlo]

sun in the shadows (03)

word count; 12,706

summary; trying to make some headway on the study leads to an interesting revelation, and progress in your friendship with noah.

notes; if this part is a little sucky, I apologise. it was a last minute addition that I created because I realised I wanted to include some extras.

warnings; brief mentions of panic attacks/anxiety, but it’s very mild.

The weather was improving, the drizzle of the winter and the grey skies overhead were getting lighter, the showers of rain were getting less frequent and the winter was moving on. Spring was making itself known, bulbs of daffodils were finally taking root in the soil, and green was sprouting from the earth that had been frozen over and dead only a couple of weeks ago. The watery floors were drying up, limited ice was fading away, and graduation was sitting right on the horizon for you all.

Your fingers flexed around the strap of your bag, rooting through the contents to find a place to slip your file inside, all your notes for the class you’d be having were inside, and there was a blank page for your next session waiting to be filled out. Once it had its place, albeit getting a little bit crumbled against the other content, you removed your wallet, a few coins jingling in the bottom, and you hoped it was enough for two coffees.

There was a coffee stand not too far away, and you were hoping an extra shot of coffee before you went in might get your brain working a little faster. Only a couple of feet ahead of you was a face you recognised, a dark jumper to match dark denim jeans, a pair of boots for motorbike riding that were beginning to scuff along the edges and the toes. He was hanging over his money, a brown bag holding a pretzel and a tall cup, the tell-tale tag of a teabag hanging over the edge, and he walked away.

Joining the back of the line, you watched him go, sitting not far across the quarter with his headphones on, settling on one of the recently repainted memorial benches. He pulled the tab on eh coffee back, opening it up and a cloud of steam left the drink, curling up into the air that still held a slight chill, drifting away to disappear as he blew against the surface of the drink. In his other hand was his phone, scrolling aimlessly on it as a way to keep himself disconnected from everyone else around him and prompt nobody else to join him. His bag was out on the bench too, pushed a short distance from his body in an attempt to take up the rest of the space to deter company.

Ordering a simple set of black coffees, and finding you had just enough change for a muffin too, you waited patiently for your order, an assortment of condiments and the double-chocolate treat you’d paid for being handed to you first. There was a grinding, the slight screech of the machine as it crushed the beans to create two black coffees for you, plastic lids sealed on and two cardboard jackets fastened around them.

Balancing the load between them all, you headed over to him, using your knee to nudge the bag up the bench until it bumped his leg, and he jerked slightly, looking up to see you. Offering him a beam, his narrowed eyes lightened a little, and he sighed. Putting down his phone and moving his bag to the floor, he lifted the headphones away from his ears, and let them hang around his neck. Sitting yourself down, he slumped back into the wood, and you scooted up to sit closer to him, placing the spare coffee you’d bought for Stiles on the floor away from your feet.

“Hey, Noah!” He gave a short nod, still a little uncomfortable, and he turned to face you more. “So, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“How did you know I was here?”

You shrugged, opening up the bag of extras and searching through for a couple of sweetener packets, and a wooden stirrer. “I didn’t. I was just gonna’ grab a coffee before class and head to my hall early, because, y’know, studying at home is distracting.” Your hand waved off the statement, finding the packets you wanted, and clutching your cup between your knees for stability. “So, anyway I was going to text you when I got there, but then I saw you, so I figured I’d come and say ‘hey’!”

“Right.”

“So, hey!” You waved a little before taking the top from your coffee, and leaving it on the bench beside yourself. “I ask once again, what’s your schedule looking like this afternoon?”

“Well, since I am the most popular guy at this college, I’m pretty busy.” He smiled a little at his own joke, particularly when you gave him a laugh, and your brow raised.

“Oh, he’s got jokes today, huh? I like it, I can roll with that.” Tipping the sugar into the cup, you added a couple of packets, before stirring it slowly. “I take it you’re free, then. I was hoping we could squeeze in some study stuff this afternoon. I have a class in a couple of minutes, but I wanted to see if you were free?”

“Well, I’m free all day. I had a six AM class.” His face screwed up at the idea, and you could feel his pain, having spent the entirety of your sophomore year with a teacher who held lectures at six AM so she could avoid her morning sickness before class, and rush home for it afterwards. Professor Anderson going off on her maternity leave was the best thing that had happened to your education that year.

“Great, I’ll sort it with Stiles, and we’ll text you the details.”

“Sounds like a thrill. I can hardly wait.” He smiles, the sarcasm just like his brothers as it came through, and you repaid him for the joke with a chuckle. While the two of you had made progress, you could tell he was still a little unsure around you. You were polar opposites and he didn’t take well to that, the atmosphere that you brought with you could be a little too much for him to handle sometimes, you couldn’t stop the guilt that was eating at you a little. “What’s wrong? You’ve got a look on your face like you want to talk about things. Just warning you, I’m not good at that heart-to-heart stuff.”

“Yeah, I’ve witnessed that.”

“Shut it.” He teased, sticking his tongue out at you childishly, and you grinned cheesily in reply to him. “You can tell me, though. Can’t promise I’ll help, but..”

“It’s nothing weighing me down. I just wanted to apologise. I clearly interrupted your free time. You got yourself a little pretzel to eat in silence, and everything.” He offers you a blank look at your slight dig, and you only winked, waving the muffin in a bag that you’d bought, and taking a sip of your coffee once the lid was sealed back on. “People usually like it when I stop by to see them, I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s okay, really.” His words were strained, the response bringing you no relief as he forced them out, and your frown remained. “I’m serious, okay? It’s alright.”

You were trying your best but learning the lines with Noah was different to you. Upon starting college you’d been thrown in at the deep end of socialisation and a whole world you’d never quite had access to before. Coming from a smaller town that had always limited your expectations was tough, and you’d taken it differently from the way Noah had. You’d had so many experiences, becoming legal to drink and venturing beyond your comfort zone, truly leaving home and facing the idea of having your life laid out before you, the first time truly having your heartbroken, and being too far to simply collapse into the arms of your mom or dad for support when things got messed up.

“When does your class start?” You jumped, lost in your thoughts as you slumped back into the bench, and you sat up straight again, turning to find that Noah was already looking at you, eyes scanning over you slowly. It was a good reminder, time had been slipping away from you and in the ease of his peaceful and quiet company, you could have sat there for hours.

Checking your watch, you sighed, lifting your bag strap back up onto your shoulder more securely, and packing everything you had with you inside, leaving you to hold a coffee cup in each hand. “In about ten minutes.”

“How about I walk you?” He picked up his bag, swinging it over his shoulder, and you nodded, a warmer feeling at his offer blooming where cold guilt had been. Standing up and making sure not to spill any of the scalding coffee onto your hand. Peering around the busy campus quarters that was more filled now than it had been for months, the lighter weather tempting groups to come out of their dormitories and the cafés to gather outside instead.

He fell into step beside you, toes scuffing occasionally on the slightly uneven stonework of the quad, before it fell away into smooth concrete pathways on the way to your lecture. The grass alongside each path was growing greener, dull colour fading away into something brighter. Paper crinkled beside you, the cup of tea in his hands being finished and the cardboard cup was crushed between string fingers, knuckles even paler than usual as he crumpled it up, and as you approach the closest bin, it was disposed of.

Your fingers flexed around your coffee cup, almost having forgotten that it was there as the heat from the two began to fade away a little. Taking a sip, the refreshing burst of sweetened caffeine was like a spark to your system, and you revelled in it. “How do you take your coffee?”

You lower the cup from your lips, swallowing your mouthful, and you couldn't stop the rise of your brows once you turned to look at him. “Creamer, usually. I like a caramel flavoured one. But, since I’m not big on creamer in packets or from street vendors, this one just has sweeteners.”

“Cool.” He nodded, and your lips pressed together tightly to try and contain the smile you wanted to let free, silence forming between you both for a moment, a further gathering of steps as the two of you went on, your building coming into sight again. “Did you watch the news last night?”

“Is this small talk?”

“It’s an attempt at small talk.” He winced, and you chuckled, a small smile on his features as the fear of judgement or humiliation washed away, and he gave a sigh.

“Okay, let's try this.” Your mind spun, searching for a track of something to talk about, and a thought clicked into space. “If you could watch one genre of movies for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

“Comedy. Like, comedy-action. You know, ones like ‘Jumanji’ or something?” He was quick with it, certain about his answer, and you nodded.

“Yeah? That was quick. How come you’re so sure?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged, one hand coming up to hold his bag strap, swinging it to the side to be able to get inside, and fish out the paper bag with a pretzel inside. “I guess I just think they’re good for you. Good for the soul. They have action and it keeps you a little on the edge of your seat, but it’s funny. It's easy-going, when you’ve got anxiety, or you’re having a bad day, or you just want background noise, they’re perfect.”

“Alright. Fair enough. Okay, tricky one.” his eyes narrowed a little, but an amused look passed over his features while he waited. “If you had to choose specifically between comedy and action, which is it?”

“It’s got to be action. Because comedy usually means Adam Sandler or Seth Rogen, and some of their comedies are good, but some are jus-” He paused, jaw dropping a little, and his hand came out, pausing in front of your to bring you to a halt too. A smile curled on your lips, and he looked shocked. “Holy shit, you’re good!”

“Ask a basic question that people are passionate about, it always leads to more options, and everyone always wants to talk about something fun.” His head shook slowly, as though he was in disbelief, and you took a dramatic bow, trying not to spill the coffees in your hands as you giggled. “Give it a go, I bet you can do it.”

The paper in his hands crinkled, your footsteps taking up again, and the two of you were making your way towards the building once again. Taking a bite from his pretzel, a piece torn away with his teeth, he thought it over. “Does your family have any secret or ‘famous’ recipes?”

“Oh, that’s a good one. Kudos to you, Noah.”

“Thank you. I thought about it for, like, eight whole seconds.” He grinned, the joke moving away from you both as you left it behind, and you thought about his question.

“Maybe it’s not my family recipe, just a personal one, but I’m great at making lasagne.” He scoffed, and you nudged him with your elbow. “I’m serious! I make a great lasagne!”

“You don’t seem like a cook to me, is all! You seem like the sort of person who’d manage to burn a pit of water.”

“You can’t burn water, an.. oh, I just got it. You jerk.” It was a joke, your nose screwing up as you stuck your tongue out at him, thanking him a second later as he held the door open for him. The bright lights of the outside changed to artificial lights in the halls, not as much coming through the windows as trees outside managed to cast shade into the building. “Well, I can cook. I love to cook, and I’m good at it. Especially lasagne. My family are generally the only ones who have ever had it, and thanks to that insult, you’ll never have it.”

“Oh, woah, no! You have to let me try it now. Prove me wrong, or I’ll be forced to believe you’re bluffing.”

“You’re sneaky.” You scoffed, students filling the hall and filtering in from different sides of the building, lectures in different halls all waiting to take place, and you stepped to the side of the corridor once your doorway was within reach. “If you’re lucky.”

“I’m betting on that.”

Glancing back, Stiles was already inside, as expected. Stiles Stilinski had never once been on time, he was either twenty minutes early or twenty minutes late, and since he’d spent the night with Derek, who was an early bird, you’d figured which one today would be. His head was slumped on his hm half-asleep and on the verge of drooling as he sat there, and you chuckled, turning to Noah. “Thanks for walking me. Also, thanks for small-talking with me.”

“Thanks for the advice on small talk.”

“I’m gonna’ head inside, but, I’ll see you later, okay?” He nodded, confirming the times with you, and lingering a moment longer. It was quiet, but not so tense, and he rolled on the balls of his fete, the half-eaten pretzel in his hands was seemingly abandoned as one hand tucked into his jeans pockets, the other hanging limply while holding the delicacy by his side.

“Thanks for sitting with me. This wasn’t so bad. It was almost fun.”

“You know, one day, you’re gonna’ tell me you had fun with me. I look forward to that day.” He smirked, your head tipping to the side at the expression.

“If you’re lucky.” He was repeating your own words back to you, and you beamed at the chance. Backing away from him slightly, you fixed him with the cheekiest glance you could as you walked through the doorway.

“I’m betting on it.”

You could hear his laugh once you were gone, into the classroom and beginning to take the steps up to a seat beside Stiles that he’d reserved for you, his bag sitting on it. He’d already gotten his equipment out, notepads and pencil laid out in a somewhat organised mess on top of the desk.

Placing the two coffees down, you moved Stiles bag to the floor, tucking it behind his chair and a soft snore made itself known from him, the boy not doing well with early mornings but he never had, not once in your years of knowing him had he handled it very well, so it was no surprise.

“Opening up your bag, you dropped your notebook down onto the surface with a loud ‘slapping’ sound, and he jerked upwards, flailing as he did, and almost knocking the coffees over. Blinking quickly and shaking sleep away, he looked around, eyes wide as he finally focused on you.

“Jesus Christ, don’t do that.” He chastised you, leaning back in his seat and holding a hand over his heart. “I was dreaming about high school, I thought you were my lacrosse Coach waking me up for falling asleep in class again.”

“Maybe I am.” You winked, slamming a hand down on the counter. “Drop and give me twenty, Stilinski! Right now!”

“Don’t do that, it’s eerily accurate.” He cringed, shuddering a little, before a wide smile replaced the horrified expression that had morphed, and you pushed a coffee over to him. “You brought me a coffee?”

“Yes, I did. It’s bribery.”

“Oh? What am I being bribed for?” He was curious, rooting through the bag of condiments for it and taking the plastic lid from the cup, steam curling out into the air. Taking an ungodly and certainly unhealthy amount of sweetener and sugar packets to load into his coffee.

“Your free time this afternoon. I’m thinking about getting some of my study done, I can get all the work for the next couple of sessions sorted now, but how do you feel about being asked some later?” He tipped them in, a drop of coffee flying up over the edge and landing on the desk as he stirred his drink with vigour, that same hyper excitement that he always had.

“Can’t I just fill them out now?”

“It’d be better if I could get your responses with Noah.” He sighed, rolling his eyes and making a scene of it, but there was a smile that told you he already agreed.

“You should have brought me two coffees, but fine.”

You let out a victorious ‘aha!’, and shook the little brown paper bag that was still sitting on your half of the desk at him. “I also brought you half of a muffin!”

“Only half of a muffin?”

“Well, it was none, but since I didn’t eat it yet and I’d feel bad eating it in front of you, I decided to share it.” You tore it in half, pushing half across the scratched and vandalised wooden surface to him. Crumbs were left along the surface, and Stiles pressed the pad of his finger along them to gather them all up.

“Oh, right. Well, in that case, what I meant was; wow, a full half of a muffin!” He cheered, much more enthusiasm, and you nodded.

“Much better.” At the front of the classroom, your tutor entered, door slamming behind him as he kicked the wedge out from underneath, and his case was placed down on the desk. The room began a hushed quiet, save for the loud slurping of Stiles with his coffee beside you.

“You know,” Your best friend didn’t understand the concept of a whisper, everything he did was more like a dramatic stage whisper on a Broadway show, and a few dirty looks were sent his way. The professor was used to this, a year of experience and advice from previous tutors guiding him to ignore Stiles’ fidgeting and chatter. “You’re going to have to convince Noah to do this.”

Slumping down in your seat a little more, you turned your head to him, nibbling on your half of the muffin. “I already did.”

“What?” This time he was hushed, the man standing at the front near his desk, trying his best to give extra advice to everyone and answer any common questions that he’d been emailed. You’d have to catch the after-class notes in your emails. “When d’you do that?”

“This morning before class. I saw him while getting coffee for you and we walked over.”

Stiles huffed, his brows being pulled together slightly. “Okay. Damn, he was my last free shot at getting the afternoon off.” You grinned, pinching at your friend’s cheek, and he smacked your hand away. “Quit it, I’ve told you not to do that before.”

“In case I pinch your moles off?”

“That's where my power is. My funny is in my moles.” He hissed, only making you laugh more, and you covered your mouth with your hand over his silly superstitions.

“Whatever, freak.”

“Hoe.” He snarked back, and you grinned, punching at his shoulder as best you could from this angle, and he reached up a hand to rub at it. “So, if we’re doing this, I at least want to do it at my place. I’m going out this evening, I gotta’ be ready. Derek’s sisters are coming up to visit.”

“It won’t take long, don’t worry.” He hummed, pulling out his phone and keeping it ducked from view. He was texting his brother, letting him know to be ready, and at what time your class would be ending, giving him a little time to prepare. Opening your book up and flicking to the page you had marked, it was a journal written about the study of the ways that twins raised in different households could grow up similarly, and you were hoping to adopt some of the content for your study.

“So, what’ve you got done so far?”

Stile sighed, flicking open his notebook, and you were shocked by the fact that he was already at the end of it. There were pieces of paper stuck in, a list of book references on one of the tabs down the side of a page, and only a few blank pages left at the back.

“Oh, wow, okay.” You stared at your notebook, barely reaching a quarter of the way through with the notes you’d been making, and it looked like Stiles was ready to start making progress towards a conclusion for his hypothesis. “So, you’ve got a whole lot done, then.”

“Yeah, well, I want to spend as little time in a prison as I possibly can.” He rubbed a hand over his forehead, the pages crammed full of information as he flicked through to find a blank one. “Plus, I didn’t want to go and interview inmates on my own, so I wait until Derek has free time to go with me, and I get as much done in those sessions as I can.”

“You’re gonna’ be done weeks before I am.” You pouted, your pen twirling at the top corner of a page, drawing a collation of pretty flowers to form a border, and he chuckled.

“I have easier test subjects than you do. They’re already guilty and behind bars, they’re more than happy to open up. You’ve gotta’ deal with Noah.”

“That’s true.” You grinned, thinking back on the conversation you’d had with the other twin that morning. When he was alone, it wasn’t so bad, he talked more and he wasn’t so worried about judgements, but as soon as there was someone else who might hear, he completely closed down.

“Hey, seriously, we have ages left. You’re gonna’ be just fine.”

“I’m just freaking out a little bit, because this is the last hurdle, y’know?” He nodded, and you could see whatever it was he was thinking practically swirling in his eyes, because Stiles’ emotions were open to read like a book.

“It’s terrifying. It’s, like, what the hell are we supposed to do when we finish?”

“I don’t know.” Your head dropped to your hands, fingers soothingly rubbing at your temples. A large hand landed on your back, rubbing in comforting circles. “What I do know, though, is that if I don’t get on with coming up with some more content, I’m never gonna’ finish this study in time.”

“Well, put your headphones on and come up with some questions.”

You did as told, plugging your earbuds in and choosing some classical music that would make it easier to concentrate. Opening one of your survey works back up to the page you’d left off at, your eyes began to flicker over the pages, picking out the useful information. Once you had a list built, you had a foundation to work from, questions to create and organise into groups, different sessions being able to come together.

Beside you, Stiles’ hand never seemed to stop rising, a constant dialogue with your tutor as he checked his work and ironed out any kinks in his study. He was also full of chatter and laughter, getting along with everyone around him and asking about their works, making you turn your music up several times just to be able to concentrate. But, by the end of the session, when Stiles was tugging your earbud out and telling you your class was over, you had a solid three pages worth of questions that had been split up into sessions, and ready to be worked through.

“Pack up and get ready to go. I have plans to get ready for.”

Stiles already had his bag in his arms, notebook tucked inside and pens and pencils put away, two empty coffee cups and a muffin wrapper sitting out, which he quickly gathered up, once his bag was on his shoulder. He was gone, walking past you and down to the waste bin at the front of the hall to dispose of them, his fingers tapping idly on his thigh once he was done.

You gathered your belongings, packing them away and curling the wire of your headphones back up neatly, making sure everything had its correct place in your bag, before following him down and out of the steps.

The halls were filled once again, the two of you navigating through crowds to the outside of the building, and you followed him in his diversion across the pathway, all the way to his car. Some students had already left, spaces beginning to empty out as a bottleneck effect took place at the only entrance and exit to this carpark.

“Where’s your car?” The dirty blue jeep was one of the only ones left in the parking lot, Stiles looking around for your vehicle, and you sighed.

“Don’t get me started on that hunk of junk.” You growled, stomping a foot on the floor as Stiles laughed. Opening the driver’s side door, he hopped up inside of it, legs dangling from the chair. “I’m trying not to use it as much. It splutters when it starts up and I have to try it a whole bunch of times, so the less I use it, the closer to graduation we can get before it eventually taps out.”

“You ever think about just getting it fixed?”

“Oh, big words from the man whose engine is held together with duct tape.” Your hand rubbed over the hood of the car, a slightly dusty layer that made you cringe, and you wiped your hand off on your jacket to stop it.

“Touché.” Stiles only smirked. “C’mon, I’ll give you a ride to my place. I’ll be waiting for hours if you walk.”

He slammed his car door once his legs were inside, leaning over the centre console to pop open the passenger side door as you rounded the car, and he was sparking up the car before you were even fully inside. Slamming it shut, he was reversing from his spot as you clipped in your safety belt, swinging his car around, and you gripped onto the edge of the door. “Easy there, fast and furious.”

“Oh, relax. Nobody is around.”

“Except for me, and I’d like to live until graduation.” His eyes rolled, hitting the brakes and flicking on the indicators as he was leaving the parking lot, moving out onto the main roads. There weren’t so many other cars, the mid-afternoon meaning the other students were mostly in class, in bed, or eating their lunch. College was a weird time, and while you’d loved it, you couldn't wait to regain some kind of normality. “Can we swing by my place? I need to swap out my books. I don’t want to carry all these around.”

“Okay, but be quick! I have to be ready by six and out the door by six-thirty. Derek will kill me if I’m late for this.” His fingers were tapping on the steering wheel as he changed direction to head to your place instead of his own. The space between you both was filled with the radio, the simple tunes of classic 70s anthems, the songs Stiles had grown up with, his dad’s favourite records and he played them constantly. He knew all the words, mouthing along and banging his head, pausing occasionally to check the mirrors and the roads between dancing in his seat.

Rolling the window down as he slowed in his approach to the building, afresh air swept into the carbon of the car, the slightly musty smell of the older car was something you’d miss when it was gone. The shade of the concrete cover overhead was chillier than the sunny roads, and he swung himself haphazardly into a parking space.

“I’ll turn the car around and wait here, cool?”

“I won’t take long, promise!” Hopping from the car and closing the door, you leant on the open door frame, and Stiles slouched in his seat, as he usually did. “Lydia and Ally should both be out, so there’s nobody for me to even talk to.”

“Good, because you’re chatty.” He teased, and you flipped him off, a quick walk as you headed away from him to the stairs. Once you were there, you were taking a quick jog up the sets of stairs, headed for your floor, and balancing your books in your arms carefully. Rooting through your bag to find your keys, they were at the bottom, jingling tantalisingly for you to find.

Leaving your books on the countertop of the kitchen, you shifted through them, taking the notebook you needed and leaving the rest, piling them back up and taking them to your bedroom Abandoned on the desk, you rushed to change, throwing on a bigger and warmer jumper to get through the rest of the day, phone in your pocket and a bag on your arm. Passing back through the kitchen, you were ready to grab the notebook and bag you’d left there, keys hanging in the back of the door, and you eyed the freezer.

You’d made a bet, a point to prove, and you were certain that buried somewhere deep in the bottom, you had a frozen lasagne from the last time you’d made it for Allison and Lydia. You had a few spare moments, and so you moved over to the freezer, opening the door and crouching to scan over all the shelves.

Running your fingers over frozen plastic, you searched for the right one. Tinfoil crinkling in the back, behind a bag of dinosaur chicken nuggets and a tray of alcoholic ice cubes, was a tray of lasagne. Pulling it out, the cold chilled your arm, even through the layers of your hoodie, and you used your foot to close the freezer while wrapping the tray in the nearest tea towel for an extra layer.

Placing your notebook over it and holding it in both arms for security, you clicked the latch onto the door, keys in your pocket and bag on your shoulder to let it swing closed behind you.

Stiles saw you coming, his head snapping over to the metal door between the stairwell and the parking lot when it fell open, backing through it and his brows raised. Opening up the passenger side door, he took the lasagne from you when you handed it over, climbing back into the vehicle.

“This is cold. What is it?”

“Lasagne.” You settled it onto your lap once your safety belt was on, folding the towel underneath to keep your lap from getting chilled and painful, and he nodded. The engine was still running, and taking off the brakes, he was pulling out of the space again.

“So, not that I don’t love a home-cooked meal, but I’m going out for dinner. Why the traybake?”

“I have a point to prove to Noah.” You were looking out of the window, but you could feel his gaze on you, making you a little uncomfortable, and you turned to face him. His eyes were flicking between you and the road, brows furrowed, a stare like he was trying to figure you out, before he let it go. “He told me I looked like I couldn't cook, and it’s a battle I’m going to win.”

“Well, alright then. Save me leftovers?”

“We’ll see.” You winked, and he grinned, eyes flicking to the tray in your lap, before back to the road.

It was only a short journey, the distance between your place and Stiles’ building was short for a walk and even shorter in a car, on the edges of campus and conveniently placed, and it had been one of the building blocks of your friendship with him An easily accessible study partner, somewhere to hang out with, someone to walk home with you after a night out, someone to share a cab with, or simply knowing there was a friend so close to you.

“It’s going to be weird not living around the corner from you in just a few months.”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He sighed, pulling into his one building sparking area and it didn’t have the luxury of being covered or underground, it was exposed each flat having allocated parking spaces, and Noah’s bike was parked underneath the shelter, you could see it from here, with a clamp around the wheel and covered from the impending and risky weather of the early months. “I have a feeling that you’ll end up living next door to me someday.”

“You do?”

He parked the car, arm behind your head as he reversed into it, ready to make a quick getaway on the next morning, or this evening, when he would invariably be late. In true Stiles Stilinski style. “Yeah. Especially after I rock whatever gown you want me to wear for being your maid of honour, someday.”

“Lydia is going to fight you for that role.”

“I will fistfight her for it.” He challenged, and you grinned, clambering down from the car as Stiles had parked a little too close to someone else on your side. With your bag on your shoulder and lasagne in one hand, you tried to squeeze around the door without scratching someone else’s paintwork.

Stiles’ arm was slung over your shoulder as you set off toward the building, the elevator being fully functional, and it was a refreshing change not need to take the stairs up to your place, or risk your life in a rickety elevator.

Throwing his keys down on the kitchen counter, they slid all the way across and to the other side, hitting the floor, and he grimaced when you turned to stare at him. “I’ll pick those up later.”

“Uh-huh.” The sounds of video games and music were coming from behind Noah’s door, though it wasn’t fully closed, only pushed halfway, and you hoped that was a sign that he was still in a good mood. Leaving your bag on the edge of the couch that was facing away from you, your hands rubbed together, glancing around at the environment you were still getting used to. “You should put this lasagne in now, so that it’s ready for after the study. Medium heat, leave the full-on tight.”

“Where are you going?”

“To say ‘hey’ to your brother.” Stiles’ face scrunched up, a mumble of ‘good luck’ as he picked up the tray, lifting it over his head to look in at it from underneath. Wandering toward the sounds coming from the hall, you knocked on the edge of the door, pushing it open a second later when you heard the game pause, and the music following it. Leaning on the doorframe, Noah turned to face you, brows raising slightly, and he shifted in his chair. “Hey.”

“Hi. It’s, uh, time for the study stuff, then?”

“Yeah. You okay?” He shrugged, turning back to his game and closing it off, leaning forwards from where he was sat on his bed enough to turn the console off.

“I didn’t realise we’d be doing it here. It feels more personal, somehow.” He had a large hoodie on, comfortable in his own clothes as he wore a baggy and warm outfit, the same way you often had when everything started to feel overwhelming.

“Well, this study is going to get pretty personal.”

“I know that. It’s just that right now, it feels a bit like I’m naked, y’know?” You chuckled, a momentary smile on his face flashing past, and you were glad to see it. “I just feel exposed.”

“This study is gonna’ do that, but I promise that I’ll try and make it as easy as I can. I’ll break it up, I’ll make it comfortable for you, and we’ll stop whenever you’re getting overwhelmed.”

“That’d be great, actually.” His hands rubbed together, sleeves hanging slightly down over his palms, and he looked a whole lot less terrifying right now than he did with the armour of a bike and a leather jacket. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“Good, because I need you in high spirits. I brought a lasagne and I have a point to prove.”

You backed out of the room as he advanced toward you, the door closing and leaving you both standing in the hall, and he smirked down at you a little, a disbelieving expression. “You really brought that?”

“You bet I did. It’ll be ready by the time we finish.”

“Then I guess we’d better get started, huh?” He hopped over the back of the couch, settling in beside his brother, who scowled at him as his drink spilt down his shirt from the impact. Taking a seat on the other side of them both, your legs folded underneath yourself in the armchair, finding a glass of water laid out for yourself on the table, courtesy of Stiles.

They looked so different and yet so similar in this moment. You could understand how people may have confused the two of them before their styles became so radically different. In the beginning, before Noah turned to leather and a sleeve tattoo, when they both wore hoodies and band tees and had clean pale skin. With the sleeve of tattoos covered, and the pair both wearing hoodies, one with an etching across the front and the other with a faded logo from being washed one too many times,

Laying out your books, it was more of a note you’d keep to yourself, and following from that was your recorder, coated in the front pocket of your bag so as not to get crushed. Switching it on at the side, the red light flashed on to green blinking once to let you know it was active. “Can you guys do your confirmations for me while I get set up?”

“Surely can.” Stiles sat forwards, leaning down a little with his forearms braced across his knees, as opposed to Noah, who slumped back into the cushion. “Stiles Stilinski, happy to be recorded.”

“Noah Stilinski, aware of being recorded.” Stiles rolled his eyes at his brother’s dead tone, clearly not having as much fun as Stiles was, but you didn’t blame him.

“Okay, so, why don’t you guys tell me what it’s like to live together at college.” There was a beat of silence, and then a set of matching laughs from both of them, the two starting at one another. There was a look between them, one you didn’t quite understand, and it seemed like some kind of twin-telepathy communication.

“It’s, like, exactly the same as when we were in high school.”

“Uh, what?” Stiles interjected, and Noah turned to look at him. “It’s nothing like high school!”

“Yes, it is!” Noah insisted, and you smirked, picking up your water and taking a sip as the two stared in shock at one another. “We lived together in high school, we played video games, I did all the cooking and you did all the cleaning while dad was at work. The only thing that is different is that we can’t cheat from one another’s homework anymore.”

“We don’t drive to school together anymore, we’re on opposite sides of campus!”

“That so doesn’t count.” Noah scoffed, and Stiles twisted on the couch, his hand gestures much more emphasised than that of his brother’s and you watched the debate go down. “You can’t name any more than that.”

“I take that as a challenge.” Stiles’ head rolled side to side. “Our schedules don’t match up anymore, and we haven’t had our usual movie nights in almost six months now. I can’t bring Derek over because your room is right across from mine-”

“My room was across the hall from you at home. You just didn’t date in high school or have anyone to bring home.”

“Low-blow. Unlike some people, I didn’t want to traumatise my brother in high school by bringing someone home, for that.” Stiles reached out mid-sentence, swatting at his brother’s shoulder, before continuing; “Uh, let's see. Oh! We don’t talk anymore, you didn’t ride your motorbike so much at home, you used to ride in the jeep with me. It’s like a totally different world now.”

“I didn’t know you felt like that.” There was a palpable kind of feeling in the air, something between them that was sizzling with electricity, before Stiles sighed.

“It’s no big deal. The difference is just that we’re both so busy now.”

“That was really good, actually. Thanks.” The two seemed to have forgotten you were there, both flinching and turning to face you again, matching sets of honey-coloured eyes in varying shades were fixing on you again. “Speaking of what you said, though, does it ever make it hard for you guys when your class times are so different?”

“Hard to do what?” Stiles squinted at you, face set in a frown that his twin normally wore.

“Hard to hang out, talk, have that whole brotherly bond going on.” Your clarification did little for Stiles, his brows still pulled tight and frown never moving, but Noah’s face smoothed out.

“Oh.. well, I g-”

“Totally.” Noah pressed, and once again, Stiles’ head whipped around to look at his brother. “Don’t look at me like that. You basically said it, anyway. We don’t talk so much anymore. We barely know each other. You don’t even tell me about your podcast, anymore.”

“You never listened!”

“You used to tell me your problems, not broadcast them to the world with jokes and humour! I missed two episodes, and you just stopped keeping me updated on it.” The moodier twin crossed his arms over his chest, and you swallowed thickly at the environment you had unwittingly created. “I don’t know. Just feels like we used to talk a lot more.”

They both went silent, and Noah shot you a pleading look, but there was something darker behind it. It almost felt venomous, angry or defensive, as though to say ‘I told you so’ about it being more personal now that they were home. Stiles was occupying himself with pulling a loose thread on their couch cushion out and making it that much worse, distracting himself from it all. “Well, how about something a little bit lighter. Just some questions about hobbies. Stiles, what inspired you to first start a podcast?”

“Well, as you know, I never stop talking.” He smirked, Noah laughing beside him, and just like that, the awkward air between them both was completely evaporated. “I had a lot to say, I had a lot to get off of my mind. At first, it was just to get my thoughts out there. It was kind of like a recorded journey for myself, and to share with my friends from back home. But, then other people started listening. I thought it was going to be the end of my college social life, a social life that I was developing for the first time ever, and they liked it. I was just talking into a mic and getting things off of my chest, making no sense while telling stories and bitching about my homework and suddenly I had friends. It got a whole lot of followers and I made new friends,”

He paused, offering you a wink for the comment, and you beamed.

“-and I was going to parties, I met my boyfriend at a pep rally, and everything just kinda.. blossomed. The more I got out of it, the more inspired I was to keep going. I ended up making multiple videos a week, all differently themed. Sometimes movie reviews, sometimes songs, sometimes just talking. That’s how ‘Mischief Mic’ was born.”

“Alright. That was awesome.” Stiles bowed as best he could from sitting on the couch, and reached over to take a sip of his drink. “Okay, Noah, have you got any hobbies that you didn’t have in high school that you found when you came to college.”

“Not really.”

“Not even one?” You pushed, and the arms folded over his chest tightened, his gaze going to the floor, socked toes pushing into the twist cable rug. He took his glass, swigging all of it, the water draining from the glass in nervousness, and you could hear the crickets inside your mind chirping to fill the silence that had formed.

“No. Not really. I’m going to get more water, feel free to continue.”

“Uh, okay.” You pressed your pen down into your paper, drawing a line through the question on your paper as you realised you’d have no answer to that question when you listened back on the tape at a later time. “Stiles, back to you, then.”

Your next question came, and went, and Stiles was more than happy to answer them. Occasionally, Noah would answer a question, you’d be able to pin him down long enough to get a straight answer out of him, but there seemed to always be something that he needed to mess with, or fix. Almost half of your questions for him had a line drawn through, and you would have to ask them another time, and get a whole extra session in without Stiles, dragging the study out.

It was going to take you twice as long to get through it all if every time you had to ask them separately, and had to spend your time trying to force him to sit and answer. You were missing half of the information that you needed to be able to compare to Stiles’ answers, you couldn’t answer without them.

The clock ticked by, leaving you with all of your questions for Stiles answered. On a blank page, while Noah had once again been tinkering with something in the kitchen, you’d rewritten up all over the crossed out questions that would still need answers. You had doodled on the corner again, waiting for him to come and sit back down, a collection of hearts and flowers, the occasional bee or ladybug, even a couple of misshaped stars, forming a banner across the top of the page.

When he finally came to sit back down, he huffed, eyes moving to the clock as though he was waiting for this to end just as much as Stiles was, and you gave up.

“Okay, how about we just finish this up?” You had reached the end of your tether, not even bothering with the rest of the questions that were written down for him. “We got almost two hours in, that’s perfect.”

Noah sighed, something like an apology in his look as your eyes met his and he shrugged lightly. Stiles only nodded, eyes flicking up to the clock on the wall, and he was grinning when he came back. Tearing a page out of your notebook for each of them, you passed it over, blank paper sitting before them, and you searched for a pen or pencil in the bottom of your bag for each of them. Placing your pen down before Stiles and a pencil in front of Noah, they both leaned forwards, picking them up. Switching off your recorder and packing it away, you were left with the two staring at you expectantly.

“Okay, Stiles, come fill yours out in the kitchen. You can’t discuss these ones.”

“Oh, some mystery. I like that.” He picked up his paper and pencil, heading over to the kitchen counter, folding the sheet in half as he did, and you nodded. Standing from your place behind the coffee table, your bag slumped a little more from where it had been propped against your leg.

“Okay, I want you both to try self-diagnosing yourself.” Stiles gasped, a little excitement lacing it, and his pencil was already moving over the paper. Noah, however, looked a little lost, looking to you for guidance. “Don’t worry, you don’t need to use professional terms, just, describe what you think, I’ll be able to figure it out, and if I can’t, I’ll ask you about it at some point.”

He nodded, pausing, not quite as eager to get into the activity as Stiles was, before the pencil finally met the paper, and the slow scratching of graphite over paper filled the silence.

Moving away to the kitchen, you searched for plates, and a dish, laying them out on the counter before moving to the oven. A wave of hot air into your face once you pulled the door open, and when it cleared, you search for the kitchen towel you’d brought with you. Wrapping it carefully around the edges of the tray inside, you pulled it out, resting it atop the oven and closing the door back up.

Flicking off the handles, the light inside went dead, and Stiles loomed up behind you. “Smells good!” He presented a piece of paper to you, your eyes flicking over what he’d written once you’d taken it from him, and everything that he’d written about himself seemed completely accurate. It wasn’t a surprising self-evaluation, Stiles had spent almost four years studying this, just like you had, and so it was bound to be accurate and professional. Even if his handwriting looked a little bit like chicken-scratch.

Noah was still working on his, and Stiles was picking at the edges of the tinfoil, trying not to touch the glass of the casserole dish and burn himself, and as soon as he had some foil pinched between his fingers, he was pulling it back. “Wait, Stiles, watch out for the-”

“Fucking steam! Oh, my God, that’s so fucking hot!”

His hand snapped back, half unpeeled as all the steam from inside clouded in the air, and his hand was clutched to his chest. He was glaring at the pot, before moving away and running his hands underneath the cold tap at the sink, his thumb rubbing over wet skin to soothe it.

A second later, Noah was appearing, placing his paper face down on top of Stiles, which now lay on the kitchen counter. “Well, now that I’ve been scalded by pasta, I’m going to go shower and get ready.”

“M’kay.” He backed away, and Noah leaned on the counter beside you.

“Looks good, but does it taste any good, is the question.” The twin you were left with was teasing you, your eyes finding him, and you raised a brow.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get me something to serve it up with, alright?”

He smirked, pulling open the drawer behind him and searching for a serving spoon. Slicing it into pieces, you dished it up for him, a large slab on a plate, still steaming with cheese that had only just stopped bubbling. He grabbed a fork, and one for you too, waiting patiently as you served yourself, and put whatever was left into a dish for Stiles, covering it back up and leaving it to cool.

“Okay, prepare for the best lasagne of your life.”

Picking up the papers and your plate, the two of you moved back to the couch, sitting opposite one another, and you waited with excitement. Taking a piece off of his plate with the edge of his fork, he raised it, blowing cold air over it for a few moments, before taking the bite. There was a tense few moments, while he chewed, face unreadable, before he was swallowing the mouthful.

“Well?”

You couldn’t take the anticipation any longer, a smile on his face at the desperation you showed for his answer, and he gave in. “Alright, alright. This may actually be the best lasagne I have ever had.”

“Yes!” Your hands went up in the air, cheering excitedly and he laughed at your reaction, holding his hand up when you forced him to, palms slamming together in a high-five. He was tucking in again, and you reached for your plate, excited for the meal you had made, Taking a large piece on the tip of your fork, you tucked in.

The sound of Stiles’ shower was running in the background, and he was singing loudly, a song that you were certain was a TV show intro but you’d never seen the show, and there was a chance it was something from Disney Channel. Picking up the pieces of paper again, you turned Noah’s around to face you.

You’d had an expectation, you knew what you thought he was going to write down, and yet you were somehow surprised and entirely not surprised at the same time. It was what you expected but with a twist. He had confidence in what he’d written about himself he was sure of it, and while there were definitely elements that you’d disagree with, there was a lot of truth to it, and you frowned, reading it again.

Noah was watching you do so, the scrape of forks over plates as the lull in chatter came back, and you place the two pieces of paper into the front of your notebook, making sure that it was all sealed tightly away. “Is it alright?”

“It’s just not what I expected from you. But, it’s perfect.”

“That feels like a backhanded compliment.” He smiled softly, but he looked nervous, and you shook your head.

“Not at all, it just means that you have a better grasp on this whole thing than I thought you did.” It was the truth, and while you didn’t want to reveal so much to him about it all without compromising your work, but it made sense. “It just feels like with the way today went, like you weren’t really so interested in it, so I didn’t expect such an accurate self-diagnosis from you.”

“I know, I’m sorry.” He sighed, pushing what was left of his food around the plate, and you copied him, appetite dwindling. “It’s just that when you’re here, in my apartment, and you’re asking questions about what changed and making me confront everything, it feels like real therapy. You said it was going to be casual, and this didn’t feel casual.”

“I get it. I really do, and it’s okay. I can just email you the questions you didn’t answer, and you can get around to them whenever you feel up to it, alright?” He nodded, shaking off the evening’s stress. He continued to eat, polishing off the meal that was laid out before him and settling his hands over his stomach once he was finished. There was a satisfied smile on his face, and your empty plate was soon stacking on top of his own. Leaning forwards a little, you caught Noah’s eye, and one of his brows arched up. “I can try to make it more informal, in the future.”

“That would be great, actually.”

You smiled, the consolidation made between the two of you, and your ears picked up on another sound. “Hold on, is Stiles blow-drying his hair?”

“Oh, yeah.” He laughed, head turning to the closed bathroom door where his brother resided. “He thinks it makes his hair fluffy.”

“He gels his hair, though! Why does it matter if it’s fluffy?”

“He’s insane. Don’t you know this, yet?” Noah scoffed, and your giggles carried you back into the rest of the chair as you settled back into it. The evening was still waiting to come in fully. Comfortable quiet fell between you both again, and Noah moved away to take the plates to the kitchen. He left them in the sink, water running to wash them up, before storing Stiles’ lasagne in the fridge.

The aforementioned boy moved from the bathroom to his bedroom, skidding on the floors a little and clutching the towel to his waist as he hurried, making himself late with the extra-long shower and the blowdrying of his hair. Noah was washing up the plates, leaving them to dry on the draining rack, and you took that as your cue. The night was over, that much was clear, and you’d be willing to bet that he was more than eager to get back to his alone time.

Taking your bag and double-checking that you had everything, you swung it up onto your shoulder, and made your way toward the door. Hearing the shuffling of your feet, Noah turned, drying his hands on the towel beside him. “Are you going?”

“Feels like I should. Stiles will be going soon, anyway. I’m sure you have things to do, too.”

“I don’t have anything to do, if I’m being honest.” He cringed at his own words, pulling down the rolled-up sleeves of his hoodie and making his way over to you. Undoing the catch on the door, he pulled it open, leaning against it and you linseed in the doorway.

“Since you’re not doing anything, do you wanna’ get a coffee with me?”

His eyes narrowed, just for a second, and his fingers tapped anxiously on the wood of the door. “As a study subject, or..?”

“As friends.” You confirmed, his lips a thin line for only a second, before pulling up at the sides in a smile.

“Then, yeah. I’d like that.” He looked down, sweatpants and mismatching socks on his lower half, and there was a tint on his cheeks when he looked up. “Just give me two seconds to go change, alright?”

He darted away before you had a chance to reply leaving you there with the words frozen in your throat. Stiles was clattering around behind his own door, and Noah’s door slammed shut, leaving you alone in the doorway. Your hands tapped against your thighs as you waited, bag swinging on your shoulder, and only a second later, one of the doors was opening.

To your surprise, it was Stiles, flapping the flannel on his body to shake out any creases, and he stood before you. Doing a little twirl from where he stood, he began to button it up down his front, looking somewhat smart. It was a nice black and white one, no rips or tears or stains like most of his other ones, and the black stood out prominently against the white, thick patterns with flecks of grey within it.

“How do I look, then?”

“You look great, Sti. I’ve never seen you wear anything so plain before. There’s no colour.”

“Yeah, well, this is a new flannel. It’s my best one, and the skinny jeans are Noah’s. All my skinny jeans are blue or red, it was this or khakis.” He was nervous, resisting the urge to mess with his freshly-styled hair. “The place we’re going to is kinda fancy, but I don’t feel fancy enough for it. I’m gonna’ do something stupid like drop my glass and smash it or make a joke about something dumb.”

“Haven’t you met his family before?” You teased, and he huffed, searching for his keys, and finding them under the counter where he’d never bothered to pick them up from.

“No, not really. I’ve met his mom because she comes to visit a lot, and of course, his little sister, because she’s a sophomore here. But, he has a lot of family. His extended family are coming to graduation, but this is his older sister and his dad, and his uncle, and I’ve never met them before.” His keys were tucked into his back pocket, and his phone followed, your gaze moving over him.

“You got a blazer, Stiles?”

“Uh, yeah. One that my dad made me promise to bring, I wore it to my senior prom.” He shrugged, hands smoothing over his front. “You think I should wear it?”

“Go get it, show me.” He nodded, moving back to his bedroom, and you were waiting for something with orange and blue stripes to come back out, which wouldn’t surprise you. In fact, you’d always imagined Stiles going to his senior prom in a Beetlejuice suit. Noah emerged from the other side of the hall, hangers scraping over their post in a wardrobe as Stiles searched for them. “Did Stiles go to prom in a Beetlejuice suit?”

Noah paused, rolling the edges of his hoodie up, charcoal grey skinny jeans that were only a  few shades lighter than the ones Stiles had stolen from him on his legs, and a pair of his usual scuffled boots. “What?”

He was laughing, loudly, shaking his head to hide his grin. “It’s a legitimate question! I have this mental image of it!”

“Unfortunately, he did not. My dad made us both go in three-piece formal suits. He saved up to have them custom made. Said that every man should have a smart suit.” He shrugged, crouching to start tying the laces on his shoes and Stiles reappeared. Over his shoulders was a dark black suit, crisp collar and pressed edges, and it was a beautiful piece of tailoring.

“You look good, Sti. Very smart, but casual. Like a polished version of your usual self.”

“Yeah? Good enough to meet Derek’s family?” His voice shook, and you wished you could ease him more.

“Totally. You look great.” He thanked you both, and Noah grabbed his wallet from the side, and his house keys, letting them both hang in the front pocket of an oversized hoodie.

“You ready to go?” He offered, hand on the top of the door, and Stiles’ head snapped up again from where he’d been checking his phone, presumably looking for texts from Derek.

“Where are you two going?”

“We’re getting coffee!” You beamed, and Noah nodded, stepping a little further out of the door with you.

“Oh, well, have fun. I’ll text you updates about how it goes. I might need bathroom-break pep-talk during the night.” You waved to him as you went, wishing him ‘good luck’, before the two of you were wandering down the halls. Thumbing the button for the elevator, the doors popped open, and you were stepping inside along with Noah.

“So, you wanna’ show off those new small talk skills to me, then?”

“Okay, okay. Let me think of something.” He hummed under his breath, glancing up to the top of the elevator and looking around at the posters on the walls for inspiration, and he seemed to find one. Turning his attention quickly back to you, you prepared for what he’d found. “Have you listened to any of the student bands? There’s been a lot of them growing, lately.”

“I’ve noticed that, actually.” There were several posters up around the inside of the elevator, different coloured flyers, some on shiny paper and some on smooth matte, varying fonts and designs, it was dizzying. “I haven’t, I’ve never been to see a student band. I should do that before I graduate, though. Have you?”

“I’ve been to a couple.” The door clicked open, the two of you stepping through it. Out into the setting chill of the evening that was threatening to break its way in. He chose the direction you’d be going in, heading toward the coffee shop on the side of campus that had been the first the two of you had met at when beginning the study. “Some of them are good, some of them are kinda’ average. They usually play at the bars on the edges of campus or in the places in the city, the less well-known, kinda’ alternative places. They can be fun.”

“You going out optionally to a night on the town? I’m shocked.”

“Uh, no!” He protested, grinning at you. “I’ve never been for a ‘night on the town’, and I never will. However, going to one of the few small bars around here that aren’t practically a nightclub, to listen to covers of good songs and get a pint without worrying about anyone bothering me or mistaking me for my brother, that’s nice.”

“Okay, well, maybe I’ll go to one sometime.”

“You should, I think you’d have fun.” The two of you weaved between other students, the small talk keeping up between you both as he did his best, and while it was sometimes a little stuttered and stalled, it wasn’t nearly as bad as you had expected. It wasn’t until the two of you had entered the coffee shop that he fell into tight silence again. The crowds, the rush of chatter from other groups gathered around the tables, and the friendly greetings of baristas whose chit-chat diverted to him due to his allegiance with you.

“What are you drinking? My treat.”

“Uh, just a black coffee.” He choked out, eyes flicking over all the boards, so many options up there, and you chuckled.

“Really, just a black coffee?”

“I’ve never really experimented. I just ordered whatever was the quickest and the easiest.” He confessed, already glancing back over his shoulder at the queue that was forming behind you both. “What would you recommend?”

“Hm, well, do you have a sweet tooth?” He only nodded, scratching around his cuticles on one hand and staring down at the flesh growing red, and you took his hand. Lowering it back down to his side, the hand formed a fist, flexed nervously, and you let it go, squeezing comfortingly first. Turning to the barista, she was still waiting patiently, and your eyes moved over the boards overhead. “Two mint and dark chocolate hot cocoas.”

“That sounds really good, actually.” He leaned down, mumbling the words into your ear to make sure you heard the quiet tone over the talk in the small coffee house.

“And, two croissants, too.” She rang it up on the machine, and you leaned in a little closer to her. “Do you have any of the warm and fresh ones straight from the oven?”

“We made a fresh batch about twenty minutes ago, they’re cooling. I’ll get them from the back for you.” She finished it with a wink, passing the card machine over to you once you’d produced your card from your wallet. Swiping it across the reader, you moved to the end of the line, and she moved away to begin preparing your order as someone else took over at the counter.

She was working, creating two beautifully constructed hot chocolates for you both. Placing them down on the counter before you, once they were garnished with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, she disappeared into the back room. Taking one of the ceramic plates with her, you were happy to see her bypass the glass cabinet with the older ones in, and only a moment later, she was coming back. Two fresh croissants on a plate, still warm and soft to the touch, and she handed those over as well.

Noah had been scouting for a place to sit, choosing which was the best one, and he carried both of the drinks while you carried the pastries, guiding you to the seat he’d chosen. It was tucked away in the back, a small loveseat sofa with a low sitting coffee table in front of it, and as soon as the paper cups were down on the surface of the table, he was dropping down into the seat.

“It feels like rush hour on the highway, but with coffee.” He mumbled, and you settled onto the couch beside him passing him his drink over, and he stared at it curiously. “What about the whipped cream. Do I eat that first? Scrape it off? Mix it in?”

“Any of the above.” You grinned, taking a wooden stirrer from the condiments tray in the middle and beginning to stir the cream into your hot chocolate. He placed it down, copying your actions, stirring slowly and trying not to spill any over the edges, but it was an impossible feat to achieve. Sticky droplets left over the edges of your cups and his, creating rings on the table that you had to mop up with tissues. “Okay, try it. This is one of my favourite orders here. It’s bitter because of the dark chocolate, but also sweet. Reminds me of you.”

“Now, that one is a backhanded compliment.” He muttered, taking a sip of the drink, and your lips rubbed together.

“Not everything is a backhanded statement, you know. I didn’t intend for it to be mean, it’s just the truth. You’re all dark and moody, but I can already tell you’re sweet on the inside.” You sipped your drink to finish your statement, and he filled the time where he didn’t know what else to say by pulling a chunk off of his croissant. Chewing on it idly, he settled back into the cushions, and you lifted your legs up to fold underneath yourself as you turned to face him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“You’ve already asked me a lot of questions today.”

“You didn’t answer many, though. You kinda’ have to give me this one.” He scowled falsely, but nodded, licking a flake of pastry from his lower lip. “Not that I think you need it, because personally, I think you’re just fine, but why are you so scared about therapy? The idea of it, anything to do with it, it makes you so closed off. Even more than usual.”

His eyes moved over the room, nervously, before scanning both you and the table, and you put your drink down, holding open palms up to him.

“No recorder, no study. I’m just curious.”

“Okay.” He sighed shakily, and slumped back. “Well, after my mom died, my dad made me and Stiles have therapy when we started acting out. We had a therapist who came to the house, and she was great, don’t get me wrong, but I hated it. I didn’t want her to tell me how to grieve or mourn, and I didn’t want her to tell me how to move on. Stiles needed all the advice he could get, but I didn’t want it. I wanted to do it my own way. Now, the idea of therapy, brings back all those feelings of sadness and pressure and stress.”

“I’m sorry, Noah.” You reached out, rubbing a hand over his shoulder, and his gaze fell to the contact. “Genuine sympathy and sorrow, not just that thing girls do that you hate.”

“Stop hanging things I’ve said over me, I don’t remember half of them. I blackout in social situations.” He grinned, moving past the moment, and you withdrew your touch.

“You know, if it makes you feel any better, I understand the nervousness of being in a study.”

“Yeah?” He picked up the rest of his croissant, a large chunk of it being eaten, as he waited for you.

“Yeah. When I moved here, I was so nervous. I was beginning to take my course and I didn’t really have any friends, and there was a senior who needed freshmen for her study.” Noah grinned, settling in for the story and sipping his drink. “She was doing a study about the difference between kids who travelled far from home for college alone as opposed to those who were still close to home, and whether it impacted social clubs, grades, all that. To be fair, it was an awesome study.”

“It sounds like it.”

You smiled, swirling the cup in your hands to gather any loose powder that may have begun to separate and gather at the bottom. “Well, I got drawn into it. She was a senior, and she was nice. I had no friends yet, I was in a flat-share with Allison and Lydia and three other girls who were all too busy getting adjusted to college themselves. So, this senior, she invited me to a party, and then another one, and suddenly people started wanting to be my friend because I was the freshman who hung out with seniors. I figured it would all drop away when her study ended and she didn’t need me anymore, but by then the whole social hierarchy had done its thing, and there I was.”

You shrugged, and Noah was hiding a shit-eating grin behind his mug. “So, you were just a little freshman lab rat, then?”

You scoffed, your laughter mixing with his, and the two of you were left in subtle amusement. His laughter was cut short, though, brought a rapid halt when a set of legs bumped against your table on the other side, followed by two more behind them.

“Hey, girl!” One of the girls on the cheer team, a lacrosse player behind her and a girl who you recognised from your psychology class texting on her phone. “Saw you over here, wanted to know what your plans for the evening were. We’re going to do some karaoke and get some food, you wanna’ come?”

Your eyes moved to Noah, whose attention was fixed on the floor again, as though the splintering wood was of utmost interest. “Maybe another time. I think we’re good here for now.”

“Oh, you sure? I think it could be super fun, you should both come.” The invitation was now extended to you both, and you shook your head at her despite it.

“Seriously, you should go, if you want to,” Noah whispered, and when you turned back to him now, he’d dared to look up, chewing on a lower lip that would go raw, but he met your gaze.

“No, I’m sure. I’m having fun here.” You held his gaze for a second longer, before turning to her, and confirming your denial, and she smiled, promising to make plans with you soon, before she was walking away. Noah was fidgeting beside you, shuffling in his seat, and you could practically feel the nerves rolling off of him in waves. “I’m serious, Noah. I’m having fun, and I’m perfectly happy here with you, right now.”

He was trying not to grin, a smile that was being bitten back on the inside of his cheek. “Well, for the record, I’m having fun too.”

“What was that?” You cupped your ear, challenging him to repeat it, even though you had heard it perfectly, and by the look on his face, he knew the game you were playing.

“I said I’m having fun. I won’t deny it.”

“Two victories in one day, for this gal. I’m breaking down all your walls, Noah Stilinski.” You poked at his cheek, and he swatted your hand away, taking a bite from your croissant as punishment, and you tried to snatch it back from him.

“Two victories, one loss. You’re not getting this croissant back, now.”

[everythingthemoontouches]

💙Hi there! , First of all i want to tell you that i love your blog! And i love how your posts are so accurate!💙 If its okay with you could you please do me a favor by describing how others see me,my appearance or more specifically the vibe I radiate to others! It would mean alot to me if you you do that💙I'm a cancer sun,leo rising,Lilith sextile asc, Pluto trine asc, Uranus opposition asc, Moon opposition asc, mars sextile venus, mars opposition neptune, asteroid lilith conjunct mc and jupiter in the 1st house!💙

Hola!

Thank you that's really kind of you 💛💕

You know that quote that says Cinderella never asked for a prince. All she wanted was a night out and a dress. You kind of exude a similar vibe but with respect to leadership positions. 'I never asked to be Queen/King, but the people have spoken' kind of an energy. You would be equally happy to be by yourself, learning about the subconscious mind, higher realms and other esoteric science.

For more on Jupiter in LEO I'd recommend watching Astrofinesse.

For jupiter in the first there's KRS.

🌻As a Leo rising you come across as someone outgoing, with a playful energy but you're also somehow someone people would expect to see in a position of authority. You're drawn to people who stimulate you intellectually and love to exchange ideas.

😬If you have an Aquarius saturn you could be having some challenges in your relationships since December 2020 as saturn transits your 7th house. I'd suggest practicing discernment in this area as well as signing contracts with people until it passes( early 2023) ..

😇12th house sun could take on other people's energy. I feel like you need some time away, by yourself, preferably at the beach / pool/ shower to declutter, clear your head and replenish your sense of Self. You could be highly intuitive. If this resonates, I'd urge you to look up empath drain and how to protect yourself from energy vampires.

Ruler of the ascendant in the 12th :

spirituality could be a huge part of your life. For some people this could show a father (figure) who was convicted or worked in a prison / asylum. They could also have a really remote job. Since the sun is also your own personal identity, you could profit off these themes. Working in a mental health facility, overseas, in esoteric crafts.

🌛With your moon in the 7th house, you probably attract a lot of older women, (queen of swords) nurturing energies . Your mom could have a major influence on any business partnerships that you enter.

In relationships you could have a here today gone tomorrow kind of a presence. This is because as the moon waxes and wanes so does your attraction / attachment to specific people?

♒Aquarius moon : it could be really hard for you to express your feelings. So Instead of asking for a hug there could be a tendency to say something like ' ew imagine asking for one?' you leave a place better than you found it. If you watch hindi movies, 3 Idiots could be a movie you really resonate with. ( I pretty much spent the day looking up the lead actor, who has major aquarius placements and his films have always been disruptive with a really nice social message that left people talking for years after they were released. I tell you this because he shares 2 of your big 3 - aquarius and cancer.)

Going off on this tangent you could be a well respected teacher / writer / entertainer. Jupiter in LEO could help with this.

I do feel like you need a certain amount of inventiveness in your relationships. The people you're with are people who introduce you to new hobbies / ideas / technologies. You need to feel like you guys learn something new or create something that matters together. This is enhanced by uranus in the 7th house. You could come across really cold because you always give people the naked honest truth when asked. You do this from a place of love. I'm reminded of the Queen of Swords card in the rider Waite tarot. Not everyone has the maturity to take it. Or maybe they've just had a bad day. It is what it is. Perhaps try to not be so incisive if this is something you struggle with.

In the same vein, if I asked you to write down how you were feeling how long would it take for you to identify the right emotion. How honest are you with yourself?

Moon and Uranus being in the same house could show that stagnation could really hurt your mental health / happiness / satisfaction levels.

With a saturn ruled moon I feel like I need to remind you to not be so hard on yourself. Like. The world won't crumble to dust if you allow yourself to take care of you once in a while.there's only so much you can do.

All those coffee mugs will catch up. There's no such thing as extra hours in the day. A lack of sleep manifests as early signs of aging. No hate for the elderly but arthritis is not a fun ailment to have. Do you wanna be 60 with 80 year old nervous system problems? I rest my case.

Uranus and moon aspect your ascendant so you could have a slightly plump look?

Jupiter in the first house people usually have prominent thighs. I had a friend with this placement and when we were growing up she used to complain of chafed thighs a lot?

Mars sextile venus you could be your own type? The way you act and the way you want your future partners to express love could be quite similar which is good for healthy relationships.

There could be a tendency to spend impulsively.

With Mars sextiling venus you could be someone who earns more the more active their lifestyle is? Like, you may need to be an agile learner to keep money flowing in .

Jupiter in LEO in a woman's chart usually shows they'd have a financially well off spouse so money may not be a huge concern. He could be a sailor or earn via exports/ navy. It's hard to say without knowing where your Saturn is.

The image you project to the world could be a lot more outgoing than how you actually feel. You're more private than people think.

With a fire rising, water sun and air moon you could either be a really balanced person or just have a number of clashing ideas on who to be, what to do and achieve.

Descendant : The people that hate on you could attack your need to stand out /try to dim your time in the spotlight. Think aquarius themes of standing out to improve community clashing with Leo's need to stand out solely because it helps their ego. Like your confidence could trigger the part if them that felt judged negatively for expressing their individuality.

Do you feel like you thrive in chaos? I'm guessing you're atleast in your late 20s if not older, so you might have gotten better at dealing with people acting unexpectedly. Your mom could have been unpredictable. Really intelligent, but forgets to eat ..

🥤🦀As a cancer sun, you could be the friend your friends come to for advice. There could be a tendency to be a little too selfless. I think your aqua moon really serves as a shield to those who try to take advantage of your caring nature. Have you considered a career in psychic medium ship? Or any spiritual art/ past life regression / you get the drift..

Is there a family craft or hobby that you could monetize? Jupiter in LEO could signify ancestral gains.

Lilith and Pluto aspects to ascendant can make you come across really sexy / a bit unapproachable because people feel like you have some kind of power that places you above them?

Due to this, people with Pluto / Lilith aspects can feel some kind of hurt around people clearing up the path around them if that makes sense.

Jupiter opposite moon : there could be a clash between you want to do VS what you feel you should be doing.

Jupiter in the first house : you could have been born rich? Or people just perceive you that way. They also see you as someone wordly wise and lucky in general. You could know a lot about a wide variety of things. Specially on topics related to appearance, personal development, image consciousness etc. Since the ruler of the first is in the 12th I feel like some of your wisdom comes from a divine source. Like you're tapping into some kind of a collective reservoir of knowledge. In starseed terminology we would refer to this as downloads.

Jupiter rules the 8th house and 5th house.

So love, romance, games, early education may have been a bit of a breeze for you.

Jupiter is usually a bit of a celibate spiritual person. So, while it may make you really wise with respect to things like the occult / tarot / other 8th house themes, I'm not sure how it would impact your sex life with a spouse. Sex could be either a deeply spiritual experience for you or take on more neptunian traits. Addiction / alcoholism / drug use the works. Jupiter expands the themes of the house it rules so a word of caution there.

Travelling could bring you luck. Or even love.

Did I hear Mars opposite Neptune?

This could be a literal battlefield. You could feel like you need to work for love.if Neptune is unconditional love and Mars is your drive, then you could literally match to get to taht elusive unconditional sense of belonging /love / acceptance. But what are you marching towards really? A mirage? With this aspect I'd really be on the guard against addiction of any kind. Neptune is enticing, alluring, mocking Mars for its need to conquer. It could lend a really nice swagger to your walk. A runway model could benefit from thus placement. At uts best this aspect imbues you with creativity, inspiration, otherworldly imagination and the energy required to turn your abstract ideas of art into something tangible.

Here's a source for more on this placement. Sometimes I find that the comments really help me make sense of my own placements

Toodles

Before I sign off, I just have to say this :please try to restrict asks to 2-3 placements. You can send in multiple asks if you'd like, but answering them all in one ask can get a bit cluttered and I'd hate to miss out on something 😊

Hope this helped 💕as always, I'd really appreciate your feedback on this take on how these placements affect you.

[uelden]

Vanity Fair interview translated

Just a side note before the actual translation; I don't know why, but instead of reporting the full questions and answers in full as she should, the journalist decided to report only summarized fragments of what Måneskin said and patch these fragments up into messy clusters. She also worded a couple phrases in a very confusing way (and yes, she's fully Italian). In short, she did quite a poor job, so the final shape of the interview is not that good. I didn't expect top-tier journalism from Vanity Fair but ffs. You'll see what I mean.

I translated it as it is, adding just a couple footnotes to give you insight on Italian pop culture references.

Translation under the cut

Måneskin: "Different from whom?"

by Lavinia Farnese, 09 June 2021

"True justice is being judged for what you do and not for what you are." The ones who are convinced of this are Damiano, Victoria, Ethan and Thomas who, by being the emblem of a generation that is finally free, refuse labels and conformism. In life, in love and on the stage. Where, maybe precisely because of this, they're winning everything

With the still unexpected (first place at Sanremo Festival) and the incredible (triumph at Eurovision) in their eyes, Måneskin are on the sofa of the house-studio they rented - to resume writing songs and rehearsing them - like you are after a won battle: lying in a calm and unreal silence, alert and a bit irreverent, happy.

In the garden there's the tennis table and the pool, the light of summer when it's starting and calming the country all around, and it filters inside from the large windows, and it goes onto the shining black of Ethan's hair, which blends with Thomas' eye shadow and the butterfly he has tattooed oh his naked forearm, which completes the picture of Victoria's golden crucifix hanging between neck and tank top and ends on the black nail polish of Damiano's stretched hands.

It's a human fresco, a Theatre of wrath [translator's note: "Teatro d'ira"] - to call it with the title of their latest album, a platinum record already - where their flaunted 20 years of age, their irregular femininity and virility are grown into proud and challenging custom, a pop glam rock generational manifesto of hard-earned liberties in a finally-unconditional expression of the self.

To watch them from any angle and from another age is to think that a great love will be born in those who'll understand: this new way of being in the world, the true and sovereign realm they hold where "diversity=exceptionality", the power of the artistic and cultural revolution of which they are healthy carriers in establishing in all lyrics and gestures the right to live according to one's own nature past the "people (who) talk, the people (who) unfortunately talk, and don't know what the fuck they're talking about." [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

We go where we're afloat, where the air isn't gone. [tn: journalist's own variation on "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

Miley Cyrus says hi – The numbers of a phenomenon

"The streams of Zitti e buoni are growing by the second, and they bring us above Muse, at the top of English charts, twelfth in the Spotify Global Chart. Followers almost tripled, in the post-Rotterdam period (from 1,4 to 3,3 millions, ed.) Contagious and universal folly: t-shirts and merchandising sold out in 10 minutes. Like the records, the tickets for a tour that keeps adding dates and expanding over geographic maps. They're contacting us even from some festivals were The Rolling Stones went." Thomas

"After the pretextual controversy over cocaine that France built against us, later disproven by my drug test, some graffiti popped up in Spain depicting me as a “No drugs” poster guy. Some tweets made us laugh: "Congratulations, Italy! I've never been more certain that four people have had sex with each other." Miley Cyrus started following us -You're great. -You guys are greater." Damiano

From the garage to the stars – Story of a flight

"It was only 2016, and we played in restaurants, in the streets, in via del Corso. Damiano without even a microphone, Thomas' guitar with wonky strings, Ethan was drumming on a cajón. During Rome highschools' sit-ins (Kennedy, Virgilio, Mamiani) we had our first confirmations and half-hours of celebrity, playing among those who criticized us and those who went "wow they're really cool." One of the rare times when they would have paid us – 50 euros each – we gave the money to the next band in the lineup so that they would make us play in their spot, later in the day, when there would have been more people. We had already realized how things worked. Visibility mattered more than money. And we still think that." Victoria

The intimacy of rock – Choice of a genre

"Music allows us the miracle of extending to others some very personal and private topics, sometimes even difficult and thorny ones. They are and they remain deeply your own, but at the same time they become a confession that reaches a wider audience, and in this passage that is alike a delivery, they find a place in you as well, a processing of them. You overcome them, you accept them. One second it's something aggressive, the next it's a ballad. Cathartic». Damiano

Against panic – The stage as therapy

"I've suffered a lot from anxiety and panic attacks, it's an issue I've worked on thanks to a psychotherapy course, my friends and my family. Playing helped me in not letting myself be paralyzed by my fears, not making myself limited in my private and professional life. I've learned to accept, to live with this side of myself. I don't hide it. I don't feel ashamed of it." Victoria

Analysis as necessity – Relying on someone saves you

"This belief that only madmen go to the psychologist is a widespread ignorance. No-one's born learned. [tn: common Italian saying] And it's often hard to understand the very reason why we're here, let alone the origin and direction of our desires. It's a long and legitimate journey towards lucidity, a kind of backing to become transparent." Damiano

Being out of our minds – But different from them [tn: "Zitti e buoni" lyrics]

"When you feel a strong passion towards something that is not a canonical job but an artistic language, that already puts you on a level of anomaly, which is not superior or inferior to other people, but it puts you in the position of the one who breaks the mold and also works at a loss, the one who sustains great risks while trying to do something that who knows if it will take you anywhere. "Why do it if it doesn't pay?". You want to give this dream of yours an aesthetic, but it becomes "You're dressing so weird! You must be gay!" - now that I'm 22 I laugh about it, but when I was 17 it had an effect on me, too." Damiano

The beauty of uniqueness – Of believing in it and defending it

"And I mean, at the end of the day if we're all different it's not because we want be alternative but because, really, no-one is the same. Justice is being judged on what you do and not what you are. Justice is equality, respect, beauty." Ethan

Fluid sexuality – Pride is freedom

"Heels for men that like themselves in them, kisses among ourselves, we have an open, extended mind, and we're proud of it. The horizons become vast, past the oppression of conservative families. With the information on the web knowledge becomes greater and with it the possibility that minorities will be less and less minorities, because the majority will be less of a majority. This way we'll make insults and bullying grow quieter. If social media get to a village of 50 souls and reveal to a girl who's afraid of the dark that someone has felt her same fear, then there's no reason to give a name to that fear, to mark it with labels which also limit and restrict. Definitions always had this effect on me. You shouldn't even consider the gender when judging someone, let alone their orientation." Victoria

Sexism – A culture to be dismantled

"Emma [tn: Emma Marrone, Italian singer] drops the bomb: “At Eurovision when I was there they massacred me for a pair of shorts, while they said nothing to Damiano – bare-chested and in heels.” The easy judgment against women is more fierce, constant, debasing (if I have a lot of sex I'm cool while Vic is a whore, where I show myself strong I'm a leader while Vic is despotic and a pain in the ass who reached success because she's hot.) As a male I'm privileged, the abuse I get is not comparable to those a woman has to live through, the comments over my aesthetic are centered only on my aesthetic and don't insinuate anything about my professionalism and my competence, while women are victims of this kind of thought in a systematic way. It happened though to find myself standing with a woman who while pulling me to herself to take a selfie, started licking my face out of the blue... I mean, what the hell do you want? Who asked you? Consent exists, and it's due." Damiano

Grow yourself – The only commandment

"To me conformism is the opposite of education [tn: could also mean "politeness"] and is the asphyxia of expression. I fortunately never endured heavy bullying, heavy enough for the the judgement of others to change me. But the mold of the small crumbs of bullying I got and of the kind of aggression that scars is the same. If I'm a kid who dances and likes dolls you have to let me do what I like. I was a kid who wanted to keep his hair long and played with Barbie. As a teen, my friends looked at my hair: " You have to find a girl with short hair to be at your side." My grandparents took away my dolls: "Stop it, they're not for you." Ethan

"When I was six I was already sick of them, the distinctions between masculine and feminine. I've always had strong ideas about how I wanted to be. I refused things that were typically defined as girly, and all around me they mocked me because I went skateboarding, I played soccer, I didn't wear skirts, I was giving myself the chance to be as I wished. I endured it a little, I suffered a little, but I had courage, and now thanks to that courage I know that I could have gotten even much more hurt, otherwise I would have left to others the most important choice: the one about myself." Victoria

Love in progress – Music, girlfriends

"I've been married to music for the last 20 years. I can't wait to celebrate our golden wedding anniversary." Ethan

"Everyone makes their own experiences, sometimes it goes well, sometimes it goes wrong, but it's always not anybody's business." Thomas

"When I first felt feelings and attraction towards a girl it was a bit disorienting because I had never had the courage of going beyond the limitations I had put for myself. For society being heterosexual is the norm and so you often define yourself in that way automatically, depriving yourself of the freedom to live many shades and faces of love. Once I overcame the initial insecurity of having to call into question my certainties I've lived my sexuality in a very natural and free way, as it should be for everyone." Victoria

"I had paparazzi at my door every day and night. So, after four years of relationship, I revealed her name. I still have paparazzi at my door every day and nigh, but at least I don't have to hide anything anymore." Damiano

The worth of the group – Phenomenology of protection

"The true engagement though, the true family is among ourselves, our band. We've believed in it since day zero, even before we called ourselves Måneskin (Moonlight in Danish), even before Ethan drew a giant moon on the flier for the first concert we ever did. We share everything, even the pain for the tragedy of Seid Visin, who committed suicide at 20 because of racism. [tn: I think the journalist asked them their opinion about Seid Visin's death, which was a current events topic in Italy, and then pasted it syntaxically in the middle of Thomas' answer, which was not a great move] A group is what we all should be: stay united and not back down an inch in the face of oppression that is generated by a distorted view of diversity." Thomas

I'm not of the right age – Like Gigliola [tn: Gigliola Cinquetti won Eurovision with her song "Non ho l'età", which means "I'm not of the right age"]

"Before you the only one who won both Sanremo and Eurovision on the same year was Cinquetti (1964). If there's anything I feel I'm not of the right age for? No, honestly no. Maybe having children. Regarding children I'll be honest: I'm not of the right age." Damiano

Having touched the sky – The fears that remain

"We're more than inside the dream, we're in the conquered dream. When you fly high there's the risk of plummeting and hurting yourself, but we'll work hard not to end up like Icarus, who burns his wings with the sun. Everything is in our hands. And this - a bit pretentiously - reassures us rather than scaring us." Damiano

[littlemixnet]

To me, a good ally is someone who is consistent in their efforts – there’s a difference between popping on a pride playlist or sprinkling yourself in rainbow glitter once a year and actually defending LGBT+ people against discrimination. It means showing my LGBT+ fans that I support them wholeheartedly and am making a conscious effort to educate myself, raise awareness and show up whenever they need me to. It would be wrong of me to benefit from the community as a musician without actually standing up and doing what I can to support. As someone in the public eye, it’s important to make sure your efforts are not performative or opportunistic. I’m always working on my allyship and am very much aware that I’ve still got a lot of unlearning and learning to do. There are too many what I call ‘dormant allies’, believing in equality but not really doing more than liking or reposting your LGBT+ mate’s content now and again. Imagine if that friend then saw you at the next march, or signing your name on the next petition fighting for their rights? Being an ally is also about making a conscious effort to use the right language and pronouns, and I recently read a book by Glennon Doyle who spoke of her annoyance and disappointment of those who come out and are met with ‘We love you…no matter what’. I’d never thought of that expression like that before and it really struck a chord with me. ‘No matter what’ suggests you are flawed. Being LGBT+ is not a flaw. Altering your language and being conscious of creating a more comfortable environment for your LGBT+ family and friends is a good start. Nobody is expecting you to suddenly know it all, I don’t think there’s such a thing as a perfect ally. I’m still very much learning. Even recently, after our Confetti music video I was confronted with the fact that although we made sure our video was incredibly inclusive, we hadn’t brought in any actual drag kings. Some were frustrated, and they had every right to be. You can have the right intentions and still fall short. As an open ally I should have thought about that, and I hadn’t, and for that I apologise. Since then I’ve been doing more research on drag king culture, because it’s definitely something I didn’t know enough about, whether that was because it isn’t as mainstream yet mixed with my own ignorance. But the point is we mess up, we apologise, we learn from it and we move forward with that knowledge. Don’t let the fear of f**king up scare you off. And make sure you are speaking alongside the community, not for the community. Growing up in a small Northern working-class town, some views were, and probably still are, quite ‘old fashioned’ and small-minded. I witnessed homophobia at an early age. It was a common thought particularly among men that it was wrong to be anything but heterosexual. I knew very early on I didn’t agree with this, but wasn’t educated or aware enough on how to combat it. I did a lot of performing arts growing up and within that space I had many LGBT+ (mainly gay) friends. I’ve been a beard many a time let me tell you! But it was infuriating to see friends not feel like they could truly be themselves. When I moved to London I felt incredibly lonely and like I didn’t fit in. It was my gay friends (mainly my friend and hairstylist, Aaron Carlo) who took me under their wing and into their world. Walking into those gay bars or events like Sink The Pink, it was probably the first time I felt like I was in a space where everyone in that room was celebrated exactly as they are. It was like walking into a magical wonderland. I got it. I clicked with everyone. My whole life I struggled with identity – being mixed race for me meant not feeling white enough, or black enough, or Arab enough. I was a ‘tomboy’ and very nerdy. I suppose on a personal level that maybe played a part in why I felt such a connection or understanding of why those spaces for the LGBT+ community are so important. One of the most obvious examples of first realising Little Mix was having an effect in the community was that I couldn’t enter a gay bar without hearing a Little Mix song and watching numerous people break out into full choreo from our videos! I spent the first few years of our career seeing this unfold and knowing the LGBT+ fan base were there, but it wasn’t until I got my own Instagram or started properly going through Twitter DMs that I realised a lot of our LGBT+ fans were reaching out to us on a daily basis saying how much our music meant to them. I received a message from a boy in the Middle East who hadn’t come out because in his country homosexuality is illegal. His partner tragically took their own life and he said our music not only helped him get through it, but gave him the courage to start a new life somewhere else where he could be out and proud. There are countless other stories like theirs, which kind of kickstarted me into being a better ally. Another standout moment would be when we performed in Dubai in 2019. We were told numerous times to ‘abide by the rules’, which meant not promoting anything LGBT+ or too female-empowering (cut to us serving a four-part harmony to Salute). In my mind, we either didn’t go or we’d go and make a point. When Secret Love Song came on, we performed it with the LGBT+ flag taking up the whole screen behind us. The crowd went wild, I could see fans crying and singing along in the audience and when we returned it was everywhere in the press. I saw so many positive tweets and messages from the community. It made laying in our hotel rooms s**tting ourselves that we’d get arrested that night more than worth it. It was through our fans and through my friends I realised I need to be doing more in my allyship. One of the first steps in this was meeting with the team at Stonewall to help with my ally education and discussing how I could be using my platform to help them and in turn the community. Right now, and during lockdown, I’d say my ally journey has been a lot of reading on LGBT+ history, donating to the right charities and raising awareness on current issues such as the conversion therapy ban and the fight for equality of trans lives. Stonewall is facing media attacks for its trans-inclusive strategies and there is an alarming amount of seemingly increasing transphobia in the UK today and we need to be doing more to stand with the trans community. Still, there is definitely a pressure I feel as someone in the public eye to constantly be saying and doing the right things, especially with cancel culture becoming more popular. I s**t myself before most interviews now, on edge that the interviewer might be waiting for me to ‘slip up’ or I might say something that can be misconstrued. Sometimes what can be well understood talking to a journalist or a friend doesn’t always translate as well written down, which has definitely happened to me before. There’ve been moments where I’ve (though well intentioned) said the wrong thing and had an army of Twitter warriors come at me. Don’t get me wrong, there are obviously more serious levels of f**king up that are worthy of a cancelling. But it was quite daunting to me to think that all of my previous allyship could be forgotten for not getting something right once. When that’s happened to me before I’ve scared myself into thinking I should STFU and not say anything, but I have to remember that I am human, I’m going to f**k up now and again and as long as I’m continuing to educate myself to do better next time then that’s OK. I’m never going to stop being an ally so I need to accept that there’ll be trickier moments along the way. I think that might be how some people may feel, like they’re scared to speak up as an ally in case they say the wrong thing and face backlash. Just apologise to the people who need to be apologised to, and show that you’re doing what you can to do better and continue the good fight. Don’t burden the community with your guilt. When it comes to the music industry, I’m definitely seeing a lot more LGBT+ artists come through and thrive, which is amazing. Labels, managements, distributors and so forth need to make sure they’re not just benefiting from LGBT+ artists but show they’re doing more to actually stand with them and create environments where those artists and their fans feel safe. A lot of feedback I see from the community when coming to our shows is that they’re in a space where they feel completely free and accepted, which I love. I get offered so many opportunities to do with LGBT+ based shows or deals and while it’s obviously flattering, I turn most of them down and suggest they give the gig to someone more worthy of that role. But really, I shouldn’t have to say that in the first place. The fee for any job I do take that feels right for me but has come in as part of the community goes to LGBT+ charities. That’s not me blowing smoke up my own arse, I just think the more of us and big companies that do that, the better. We need more artists, more visibility, more LGBT+ mainstream shows, more shows on LGBT+ history and more artists standing up as allies. We have huge platforms and such an influence on our fans – show them you’re standing by them. I’ve seen insanely talented LGBT+ artist friends in the industry who are only recently getting the credit they deserve. It’s amazing but it’s telling that it takes so long. It’s almost expected that it will be a tougher ride. We also need more understanding and action on the intersectionality between being LGBT+ and BAME. Racism exists in and out of the community and it would be great to see more and more companies in the industry doing more to combat that. The more we see these shows like Drag Race on our screens, the more we can celebrate difference. Ever since I was a little girl, my family would go to Benidorm and we’d watch these glamorous, hilarious Queens onstage; I was hooked. I grew up listening to and loving the big divas – Diana Ross (my fave), Cher, Shirley Bassey, and all the queens would emulate them. I was amazed at their big wigs, glittery overdrawn make-up and fabulous outfits. They were like big dolls. Most importantly, they were unapologetically whoever the f**k they wanted to be. As a shy girl who didn’t really understand why the world was telling me all the things I should be, I almost envied the queens but more than anything I adored them. Drag truly is an art form, and how incredible that every queen is different; there are so many different styles of drag and to me they symbolise courage and freedom of expression. Everything you envisioned your imaginary best friend to be, but it’s always been you. There’s a reason why the younger generation are loving shows like Drag Race. These kids can watch this show and not only be thoroughly entertained, but be inspired by these incredible people who are unapologetically themselves, sharing their touching stories and who create their own support systems and drag families around them. Now and again I think of when I’d see those Queens in Benidorm, and at the end they’d always sing I Am What I Am as they removed their wigs and smudged their make up off, and all the dads would be up on their feet cheering for them, some emotional, like they were proud. But that love would stop when they’d go back home, back to their conditioned life where toxic heteronormative behaviour is the status quo. Maybe if those same men saw drag culture on their screens they’d be more open to it becoming a part of their everyday life. I’ll never forget marching with Stonewall at Manchester Pride. I joined them as part of their young campaigners programme, and beforehand we sat and talked about allyship and all the young people there asked me questions while sharing some of their stories. We then began the march and I can’t explain the feeling and emotion watching these young people with so much passion, chanting and being cheered by the people they passed. All of these kids had their own personal struggles and stories but in this environment, they felt safe and completely proud to just be them. I knew the history of Pride and why we were marching, but it was something else seeing what Pride really means first hand. My advice for those who want to use their voice but aren’t sure how is, just do it hun. It’s really not a difficult task to stand up for communities that need you. Change can happen quicker with allyship.

Jade Thirlwall on the power, and pressures, of being an LGBT ally: ‘I’m gonna f**k up now and again’

[elysianslove]

jujutsu sorcerer!reader; haikyuu boys 

requested by anon(s): haikyuu boys with a crush on a jujutsu sorcerer, and being saved by them

pairings; hinata shōyō x reader, kuroo tetsurō x reader, tsukishima kei x reader, kozume kenma x reader 

genre; fluff

warnings; some mentions of death

hinata shōyō

to hinata, you probably stand out more than you’d think

idk why but i love love love the concept of hinata having like a completely opposite s/o kagehina. as in, i can see him so well with an alt!s/o or a goth!s/o. i can’t explain it it just works so well in my head

the fact that you were so mysterious and quiet really, and i mean really, peaked his interest. unlike literally any other character, he is nosy, and he wants to know why and how and when and who you are, so he does make effort to talk to you often

you always kinda just smile at him and give him one word replies. it’s not that you don’t like him, it’s more that you’re here for a reason and you don’t want him to get caught up in the middle of it all. you’d hate for something to happen to someone as pure as him

your attitude towards does not throw him off in the least. he’ll just want to get to know you even more

one of his upperclassmen, like tanaka or noya, probably notice and try telling him things about you to kinda back him off of you because they’re scared of you lowkey 

ik i used this scenario before but it fits hinata too; we all know he stays late to practice often, so it isn’t a surprise or it isn’t too odd that he stays yet another day until the sun has long since set. you’d only known he was in the volleyball club in passing, but you didn’t know him well enough to anticipate that he’d be in the gym this late

the most remote place, and the closest too, that you could think of at literally nine pm was the boys’ gymnasium, so you’d led the curse there in hopes of driving it away from other people around it. you hadn’t expected that you’d be leading the curse straight to another target 

hinata was the only one there, too, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to attack him 

one moment, he’s just tossing the ball against the wall and receiving it, the next the gymnasium is being broken into by some creature from above, followed by you and your angry yells

you were really focused on the curse, prepared to battle it and exorcise it, before you finally spot him. he’s frozen, the ball dropped from his hand and rolling away from him. the way he’s staring at you, and the way he keeps eyeing the creature in fear, it clicks something in you, you don’t know what

but you don’t give the curse a chance to even try and attack, immediately charging at it and exorcising it quickly, defeating it right away. it dies away with an agonizing yell and you’re pretty sure this’ll count as trauma for the poor kid before he rushes towards you, grasping your wrists and staring at you like you just hung the moon in the sky

“what the hell was that that was so cool oh my god can you do it again can you teach me how to do it you are so badass —“

like baby breathe omg 

even the way you laughed at him was intimidatingly hot he was a goner !!! 

now that he knows of your nature, it attaches him to your hip. you can’t get rid of him anymore but it’s okay he’s literally sunshine in human form 

as a duo, and as romantic partners, you really are complete opposites, but that’s why you fit so well together you know! 

if you can conjure up something like the divine dogs like megumi, expect him to constantly pester you for them <3

kuroo tetsurō

listen, he knew you were a little odd from the moment you joined nekoma. like there was no doubt about it there was something off about you. he had some type of feeling that you weren’t really here for the education you know? 

but the rational side of him convinced himself he wanted to live in some type of movie so he dropped it

he does try to get to know you, though, yeah, of course he had to fall for that one person that no one knows anything about 

kuroo’s just trynna be the main character lmfao

with kuroo, he actually succeeds in growing closer to you. i mean who can resist him? no one

it starts off simple, he’d invite you to games, sit with you during lunch, before it escalates more into walking you home some days, inviting you over during weekend games, inviting you over at outings with his friends

more often than not, especially when said outings happened during nighttime, you’d decline. he didn’t really think much of it though, he just let you be, you know? 

then, one time, you decide to go for it. 

he invites you out to the movies with some of the vbc boys, and you accept. you figure you being gone for a few hours won’t hurt anyone, and it wasn’t like there aren’t any other jujutsu sorcerers available in tokyo. it’s a big city, you rationalize 

halfway through the movie, something feels off, and as a sorcerer, you know to trust your gut instinct, so you excuse yourself to the bathroom to check the area out. kuroo, having felt like something wasn’t right with you, and being slightly worried himself, goes after you. 

turns out you were right. two people had already died by the time you come to the alleyway behind the theatre, and there’s a curse hovering by their bodies. you’re slower to react because of the initial shock, and when you see kuroo coming out of the same backdoor you’d just left out of, your body entirely freezes

until the curse jumps to attack him, and in a flash, you’re by his side, kicking away at the curse, watching as it smashes roughly against a wall 

kuroo’s immediately asking questions, but you can’t exactly focus on him at the moment. you prioritize eliminating and exorcising the curse first, and when that’s done and dusted, you lead kuroo away from the theatre

he’s very shaken by the whole scene, especially after having seen two corpses 

that night, you lead him to your home, and he stays there. he keeps you up all night, but it’s understandable. throughout it all, you reassure him of his safety constantly, telling him that you’d never let anyone or anything ever hurt him

it’s what brings you two closer together 

because that incident had been his introduction to that specific world, he grows very wary anytime you’re sent out on missions, but you always come back home to him, and that’s what matters <3

tsukishima kei 

please tsukki with a crush is hilarious cause he’s so bad at expressing his feelings 

you’re actually really similar to him in that you’re quiet and that you don’t really appreciate talking and conversing to others. you tend to keep to yourself, and he really respects that, like deep down 

he thought you were just a really timid person until he snaps at you once and you snap back. and then it was like everything that has ever happened to him led to this moment right here because what the fucsjdhwf

the fact that he recognized his feelings for you kinda made him even warier of you. like his scowl is deeper and his bite is harsher, but that’s really only because he does not know how to deal with these emotions. like he has a bad way of expressing them correctly 

you two build this small relationship between you. it’s like a teasing thing, where it’s literally just all bark and no bite. it’s lowkey fun, and you grow to appreciate his presence 

he doesn’t really question it when you miss days of schools, or when you return the days after that all bandaged and bruised. he figures it’s not his business to ask questions like that, and just continues to observe you from afar

anyways! one night he’s walking home, all alone, peacefully, before he sees you dash by him, being chased by??? what the fuck is that???

tsukki just pauses, but he’s not even like scared or worried he’s just confused and a little amused tbh. he stands in place while his eyes follow your movements as you allow the creature to chase at you, before you make a sharp turn and hit it, sending it flying back

except, you hadn’t realized the direction you’d hit it at

the curse goes flying at tsukki, and he’s just staring at it like, “hm,” not moving an inch. he’s trynna give you an aneurysm on god 

you scream at him to move, but you’re already rushing towards him. as soon as you can, you throw your arms around him and topple him to the ground. you land on top of him, but you don’t get to see his flustered face because you’re off of him way too soon, taking care of the issue at hand 

he’s a little surprised at the reason you’re always cut up and bruised, but he can’t say he’s not even a little amazed at just,,, how cool you seem

he’s still on the ground lol and you hit him with “i hope you’re not waiting for me to pick you up.”

“it is your fault i’m on the ground to begin with.”

you help him up 

with an eye roll of course 

when he’s standing again before you, he just sighs and lifts a finger to his face, as if to indicate to your face. then he says, “that explains all this then,” referring to the bruises painting your skin 

your relationship doesn’t change much for a while after that, except that knowing glance he gives you every time you walk into class exhausted 

likes to call it monster hunting for some reason 

clearly you’re the only one out of the two of you with any balls because you’re the one that confesses. thanks for saving him the trouble hehe

he’ll never tell you to your face, but he thinks he is incredibly lucky to have someone as badass as you as his s/o

kozume kenma 

kenma probably took note of your exceptional situation for a few, but he didn’t give it much thought initially. like so what if you were super secretive? not like anyone knew much of him himself 

it’s not until kuroo or someone points out like, “they’re quite odd, right?” that he starts to pay attention, but he’s not sure why

maybe he’s trying to convince himself and others that you’re not really odd for being the way that you are. just secretive and mysterious and introverted. like. does that make him odd? 

he starts to notice things like you staying after school for late, late hours, but not because you’re a part of any club, and things like your missing of school, or how your knuckles are always, always bandaged and wrapped, or how you seemed to be at the oddest of locations at the oddest of times

it’s not really like him to be too interested in what you do, so he doesn’t invest all his thoughts and energy into. he does though dwell over it for a lot longer than you’d think 

sometimes, kenma takes a console of his, and heads up his rooftop, because it just feels really safe where nobody and nothing can get to him

he’s proven wrong one night when, in the middle of the game, he hears thumps across the rooftop. he thinks he’s being tricked by the game he’s playing, until he feels something behind him, until the hairs on the nape of his neck stand and a shive runs down his spine because there is something breathing down his neck

and then he hears your all too familiar voice whispering out, “don’t move, please.” 

it’s honestly not like he could 

he sees you from the corner of his eye move in a flash, and suddenly, when the feeling is gone, he finds himself able to move again, and he turns around

it honestly looks like a scene from a movie, what he’s staring at. you battle the curse so well, and kenma is fully and shamelessly enamored by you and the way you moved so swiftly and efficiently, as you dodge and attack, and as you finally exorcise 

like he’s so in awe he has to pinch himself to convince himself he’s not dreaming 

when the curse is taken care of, you just slowly approach him, kneeling by his side and asking in a soft voice if he was okay. he decided then and there that no, you were not odd at all. you just saved his life, so,,,

you urge him to go back inside, to stay safe, and he just nods as you lead the way to his window. and when he slips inside, for some reason, he finds it in himself to ask you to stay too

to stay safe, of course

it takes you by surprise a little, but at the genuineness in his eyes, you accept, and stay up playing games with him

and when you greet him in school the next day with a smile and a wave, kenma returns it, just as brightly <3

[asexual-abomination]

Plat!Yan!Chrollo x Autistic!Reader x Plat!Yan!PT - Soulmate AU Part 1

This is largely self indulgent writing, as I know that very little of this niche exists, if any. The reader here is largely based on myself and my own thoughts of the world, but I hope others enjoy my writing. I have no formal education in writing, so if you have any advice for my writing style, please feel free to send it in.

This idea was largely inspired by the lovely @kiame-sama, who wrote this concept with a romantically yandere Chrollo, though I am aro-ace and changed it just slightly for my own writing. I hope to continue this series with more parts, but they may not all follow the same story thread.

This part just includes the body swap.

-----

You were never going to make the best impression on your soulmate. Or at least, you could never make the best impression on their friends, and that was what mattered largely to you. Talking to people would never be your strong suit, but at least on your end you had many months and other friends to keep your soulmate entertained. Waking up in a stranger's body, talking to other strangers about all details of their life? Horrible.

It should have been a comfort that there was a small yellow flower tattooed just below the date on your back, indicative of a platonic soulmate, but the idea that you would likely be expected to spend time not just with your soulmate, but with their friends as well threw you off so incredibly. Your soulmate would surely need the patience of a saint to deal with you, at least according to most people you speak with about your soulmate.

Your preparations for the switch were over now, all things embarrassing put away for now, some good food prepped, and a letter you had written taped to the inside of your bedroom door. For now, you were going over the final rules for your friends who were under strict instructions of exactly what they could and could not speak about with your soulmate. Even though they chuckled under their breath about your extreme caution, at this point you had to trust that they would follow what you said, since your switch was just minutes away.

Your closest friend, Jo, assured you that they would keep the rest in line. Knowing their authoritative personality and intimidating aura, you were much more reassured that things would go well. Even as you got up to leave, they were giving everyone their famous evil eye to keep them quiet.

Heading into the bedroom, you laid down, only to realize that your breathing was coming short and there seemed to be not enough air getting in your lungs. Were you seriously having a panic attack just before your switch? You tried to calm yourself with the breathing exercises you had been taught, but there was little you could do, which only made your panic grow faster.

You had only seconds to spare, and the reality of the situation hit you with the force of a freight train. Keeping your eyes open, you took one deep breath to hope you wouldn't ruin everything on the spot.

Everything changed in an instant, the position of your body, the tension of your muscles, the temperature and smell of the room. And the last thing to hit you, the fact that your soulmate decided to switch while driving on a highway.

Internally, you felt a massive surge of panic, outweighing the mild anxiety you had been feeling by a landslide. Until you realized that the body you were in appeared to be functioning on its own.

It was common knowledge that during the switch, there was no change to the body's ability to understand and speak languages, though you wondered if you were among the first to find the same thing applied to driving skills.

Slowly, you brought your breathing back to a calm, knowing that a meltdown right now could spell things much worse than humiliation. Once you felt ready enough that you wouldn't cry the second anything moved a moment to fast, you looked up to the rearview mirror to take in the inhabitants of the car.

Seeing the body you were in -- your soulmate -- was jarring, but he didn't appear immediately scary in the mirror. He had slicked black hair, wide eyes the color of granite, and wore a black trench coat with white fur that was open to show his bare chest underneath. But your attention was quickly drawn from his reflection to the fact that there were others accompanying you in this car.

Sat next to you in the passenger's seat was a woman with bright pink hair and a stony face, staring straight ahead at the road, who didn't appear to have noticed that there was any difference in her driver's behavior. Taking up the back seats were three men, one blond with a babyish smile, another blonde much taller than the first with a toughened look about himself, and a man with long black hair tied back looking grumpily out of his side window. All of them gave off intimidating vibes, almost putting you off of speaking at all.

After a few moments of quiet driving, it became apparent to you that these people weren't going to notice you until you spoke up. You were grateful for the time to prepare your first words, but with the menacing energy all these people gave off, you had to put your minimal understanding of conversation to its maximum.

"Ah... This wasn't quite what I was expecting..." Not the best opening line, but at least you had begun to announce your presence.

It was the pink-haired woman next to you who first responded with a questioning hum.

"I'm not sure who this is, but whoever they are, I'm their soulmate." That seemed to incite a reaction from the entire car.

"Soulmate!?" The black haired man jumped from his position, his grumpy mood dissipated and replaced with confusion mixed with excitement. The two other men were looking between themselves, while the woman's face somehow got even tougher, glaring towards you with something that you assumed was suspicion.

"Hah... I'm about as surprised as you are!" You tried to add some joy to your tone, hoping that matching their excitement would somehow dispel the situation faster. However, they continued to glare at you, and you began to wish that you could sink away into the seat, though there was very little that would help with at this point.

It's almost deathly quiet in the car for just a few moments, before all hell breaks loose. The others in the car were yelling questions at you, and yelling in general at each other.

"Would you lot calm down!?" The woman seemed to be your ally here, "If you keep this act up, we're gonna scare his soulmate off before the switch is even over!"

"Why wouldn't the boss have told us about his switch? This isn't like him in the slightest!" The black-haired man was clearly upset, though you weren't sure if he was angry at 'the boss' or at you.

The woman hushed him by saying that 'the boss' likely meant this as a test, which only served to confuse your perception of these people further. After a few moments of whispering between themselves, they finally turned back to you.

"So, who are you?" The rougher looking blond asked, not exactly setting a good tone.

It took you a few moments to even notice that he had even spoken to you, as the realization that your soulmate made seemingly no preparations for your switch hit you hard. Even though the day he would switch with you was embedded on his body, he had let you wake up in some random moment of his life, while you had spent months working around this day to get the best outcome possible.

"My name is (Y/N)," you introduced yourself carefully, not quite sure if you wanted to give your full name away to these people, "And who might you be?"

The four looked between themselves, completely ignoring your question. "No-one we know by that name."

They went further into their suspicious act, but were kind enough to also give their own first names before continuing their own interrogation. It was the baby-faced boy in the backseat, Shalnark, who asked the majority of the questions, he seemed to be very pushy and tricked you into giving answers multiple times.

The conversation was very one-sided, as you tried every trick you had ever been taught for keeping interactions equal, only to eventually realize that all four of them were working against you, using tactics for talking that you had never thought of before.

You were quick to become frustrated with their incessant questions. There were no spaces for the others to talk, leaving you feel like bug under a microscope as they stared at you. Eventually, it seemed that they were happy with the information they had gotten from you, which was a lot, including the full name you hadn't wanted to give them earlier, your home nation and your line of work.

Whoever these people were, they were good at interrogation, Shalnark especially good at tricking you with simple questions that he insinuated much greater answers from, which worried you for what these people could do for a living. If your soulmate was their boss, could he be even better at this type of talk? You didn't think you could handle conversations with a man that potentially intelligent.

Now that they were being less interrogating, you tried to take the opportunity to add your own questions, but you could only glean a few things from the way they answered. For one thing, the highway that you were currently on was on the same continent that you lived on, but a few countries over. For another, there were many more members of this group that worked for your soulmate.

Asking questions about your soulmate got a strange reaction each time, all of the passengers of the car taking a moment to look between themselves before giving you vague answers. His name was Chrollo, and as their boss, they didn't feel it was right to tell you too much about him, or so they said. You found that he was well-read, though they still refused to tell you much about precisely what he read.

It felt useless to try and pursue the conversation further, as you were nowhere near their level of smarts in conversation. To try and alleviate some of the tension you were feeling, you attempted to bring up lighter topics, asking them for funny stories, which they somewhat complied with. Although their style of telling stories seemed odd to you, as they left out a lot of details without prompting, but you were at least happy that the focus was off of you.

They told you stories of traveling around the world, and how they saw some of the worlds most gorgeous sights and expensive luxuries nearly everyday. You had to assume that they were embellishing most of it, but they made their lives sound rather fun, and you wondered if your own friends were giving Chrollo anywhere near as good an impression back home.

It had to have been at least an hour before another fear hit you, one that plagued you nearly everyday. From your perspective, everything was going well, they were laughing and telling stories not just to you but with each other, which indicated that they were happy with how how you acted. However, the fear that plagued you from inside told you that they weren't happy, that you had done something wrong and now they were laughing at you. Looking back on every word you had spoken, you felt almost physically sick, seeing every flaw in your word choice and tone in hindsight.

The passengers were looking and laughing between themselves and talking, so they didn't notice right away that there were tears gathering in your eyes, for which you were grateful. Just as suddenly as you were sat there, surrounded by happy voices with tears in your eyes, you were back home, sat amongst your own friends, who laughed perhaps even louder.

Once you came to and realized that you were no longer driving, and in fact were sitting on your own couch with your own friends, the tears really started to run. The letter that you had spent so much time carefully writing was clutched hard in your hand, but not so much that it would crumple or bend.

You quickly stood while mumbling an excuse, rushing to your room as your friends called after you. It felt odd to be back in your own body, the smells and sounds of everything hitting you horribly clearly. There was very little you could do to keep yourself from getting overwhelmed.

Your friends had already been prepared for what to do if you were overwhelmed coming back from your switch, but that didn't stop their concern for the way you were acting.

"Hey, (Y/N)? You okay in there?" Jo's voice came through the door, and you were grateful that your closest friend was here for you. "The others are all gonna start heading home now, but I'm gonna stick around. I don't want you to feel alone at the moment."

With a quick confirmation from you from behind the door, Jo headed to get some rest in the living room. Practically falling into your bed, you pulled the weighted blanket you had gotten as a gift over yourself, staring up at the ceiling as all of the feelings of excitement and fear finally crashed down on you.

-----

Thanks for reading!

[neon-junkie]

Hey everyone,

This will be my final post addressing the fandom conflict that has quite frankly gotten out of hand. Although it’s very likely this post will be picked apart, no matter how well intended it is, I will no longer be addressing, interacting, or responding to any further accusations made against me. Of course, if people have questions from a genuine place of interest, I will be happy to clarify anything for you, either via DM’s or non-anon asks. I will not be answering anonymous asks on this, as I do not want anything else posted on this topic. 

As a side note: For anyone tempted to wade into the debate, I sincerely ask you not to get involved. Do not make yourself a target, do not feel you need to ‘pick a side’, and please do not think you have an obligation to reason with either side. It seems to be well past the point of that, so please find people you get along with in this fandom and curate a space for yourself away from all this conflict.

Warning: This post will contain uncensored slurs, mentions of racism, paedophilia, transphobia, LGBTQ+ phobia, death threats, threats of violence, targeted harassment, and abusive language.

To start off, I want to apologise to everyone who has somehow gotten drawn into this mess by either defending me, following me, or interacting with my content. This whole situation with me began well over a year ago when I wrote a crack-smut fic featuring Javier/Micah, posted back in August 2019. A crack fic is defined as “a work of fan fiction that is absurd, surprising or ridiculous, often intentionally.” It was inspired by a camp interaction between Micah and Javier, and like many other fanfiction writers, I decided to write smut about it. The fic was titled ‘Dirty Fucking Greaser’, and if that shocks you, I’m sure you can imagine how shocked I was to be informed afterwards that ‘Greaser’ was in fact a very serious 19th century slur for a Mexican individual. My first encounter with this word as insult was via RDR2, where it was used like a very casual insult. My only prior knowledge of this term was in regards to the greasers youth subculture, so the severity was lost on me. This obviously does not excuse my ignorance, and I should have researched the term better, but this is just again to apologize for that oversight, the insensitivity, and to highlight that my use of this term was not meant maliciously. Following this being pointed out, I proceeded to make 3 separate apology posts [Unfortunately I can only find the third one: HERE], renamed the fic, and added slur warnings in both the tags and the fic description. When I continued to receive complaints and increasingly aggressive abuse (which included being told my apologies weren’t good enough and I should delete my account and even kill myself), I attempted to delete the fic and mistakenly abandoned it instead. I contacted AO3 to see if it could be removed, but they said there was nothing they could do. I contacted their DMCA takedown team, who also said they couldn't remove it. Please note that all this happened 7-8 months ago, and has been dragged on for almost a year. 

So, from this one unfortunate incident, I’ve been branded a racist, and someone who attacks POC, when all I have done is tried to defend myself and correct my past mistakes. I could have done this more gracefully in the past, but frankly when you’re suddenly the target of unrelenting callout posts and nasty anons, it’s very hard to be open to criticism of this sort, but this is what I’m trying to move past.

Over the course of the year, this one mistake has spiralled, and the crusade against me has somehow coincided with moral conflicts over certain characters and ships. This has devolved into dehumanizing abuse, witch hunts, death threats, doxxing, anon hate, and much more unpleasant behaviour.

I have been in fandom for a very long time, and at the heart of all fandom circles is the fear of censorship and subsequent purges, so the ‘ship and let ship’ mentality was more or less the pinnacle of fandom philosophy. And yes, this can be problematic in some contexts. People have their right to be uncomfortable with content, have a right to be offended by content, but that is not content meant for you. This argument has devolved into ‘what material is morally right to engage with’ and that is a mentality in which fandom will not survive, because for every person who is telling me I’m an awful person for writing about Micah, there are three other people telling me how much they appreciate me making that content. For every fic in which I characterize Javier and Flaco a certain way, some people are made uncomfortable by it and others tell me they enjoy it. And this isn’t just white people, but POC too, which makes it very difficult to know whether I am genuinely in the right or the wrong, especially when it comes to the concept of ‘fetishization’ which I have been made aware I need to educate myself on. I intend to do so, but I disagree with the common accusation that finding non-white men romantically and sexually attractive is inherently fetishistic and makes me racist. It’s pushing a catch-22; don’t find POC sexually attractive? Racist. Find POC sexually attractive? Racist.

I am always willing to be (politely) approached about anything my readers may be concerned about, but if it’s something I’ve specifically tagged for (such as themes, scenarios, etc.) I’m afraid you consented to reading it and with that I cannot help you. You are just as responsible for curating your space and what you see/read just as much as I am responsible for tagging it appropriately.  

On the topic of racism, I want to bring up my prior use of ‘white racism’ which has obviously been a point of contention among both white and people of colour. The (literal) black vs white concept of racism is incredibly American-centric, and as someone from Europe, which has a history of oppression against white cultures and those of people of colour, it feels inaccurate. However, this has recently been discussed with me and I came to the realization that while growing up, especially in the UK, ‘xenophobia’ and ‘racism’ were marketed as one and the same. So, with this little revelation in mind, I will no longer be using ‘white racism’ (Or ‘reverse racism’) to identify the abuse I have been receiving, but will instead call it by what it really is; dehumanizing, debasing, xenophobic, puritanical.   

Very briefly, I will also touch on the NewAustin situation, which has also been dredged into this. I did not ‘chase a POC from tumblr’. NA was a minor who for some reason was on my 18+ blog and took issue with me, likely from the ongoing discourse regarding my fic and initial mistake, as well as my interest in Micah. They were subsequently harassed into deleting their account by anonymous hate following various conflicts with other users for their support of me or their ships in general. I have never encouraged my followers to target anyone, and have always asked to be blocked and blacklisted by those who do not like me or my content. When NewAustin messaged me following the deletion of their blog, I was admittedly indifferent to the point of being unkind, and accused them of sending the hate themselves. This was based on the anon hate being racially-driven without there being any prior knowledge or publication that NA was a person of colour. This aside, I should have at the time, whether I believed it was my followers or not, condemned this behaviour. Regardless of the issues I’ve had with these people, it is never ever ok to send hate to anyone, no matter the motivation behind it, and that should have been stated at the time.

All I can do at this point is acknowledged and apologize for my past mistakes, and try to improve myself going forward.  

It is not my place to dictate the morals of the character/ship-aspect of this argument, and I am not interested in waging a war of opinion. This post is simply to clarify how I am involved in this, and why I am so viscerally targeted. You can draw your own conclusions, but I am no longer interested in this endless back and forth.

To my mutuals/followers, I stand by my request to not interact and to block and move on, as this is what I’ll be doing too.

Thank you for taking the time to read this, and I hope it makes things from my perspective a little clearer.

-RAT <3

EDIT: Just after this post was made, the fic in question was finally removed. I had to go through a DMCA take down, which can take months, since I originally abandoned the fic, thinking that meant delete. I explain this in more detail above. Said fic is gone, and has been gone since this post has been around.