#the temptation to follow this up with a meme is so strong

[kanerallels]

The British gentry: James Hubert John Fergus Saltyre, fifteenth Earl of Mount Dunstan

Some American rancher, an intellectual: Jem Salter

[sie-rui]

Baji, Mitsuya and Mikey with a s/o that’s always strong and cheerful, but one day they just found them having a breakdown because how tired they really are:(

❀ BEYOND WHAT YOU SEE | TOKYO REVENGERS 🤍 baji keisuke, mitsuya takashi, sano manjiro 💿 gender neutral, second pov (you/your), angst, hurt / comfort, established relationship, au - canon divergence, imagine 📅 july 14, 2021 🔗 masterlist

sometimes, it's all the smallest things piled up to create a wall. sometimes, even the closest people won't notice what's wrong at all.

. . . BAJI KEISUKE

Behind an angel’s smile is a heavy burden of carrying out God’s word and resisting all temptation handed out to them so freely.

But you… You were an angel but you weren’t resisting temptation nor were you carrying a reputation. You were as free as the clouds and as light as the feathers on your wings. Or at least he thought so.

You were always so cheerful, always so capable and responsible, that Baji felt as if all his world froze up when he opened the maintenance room under the stairs and saw you sitting on the corner. Felt as if he didn’t know anything at all, as if he didn’t know you at all.

(Did he not trust you enough to ask him to lend you his shoulder? To tell him that you couldn’t do it alone? To look for him instead of hiding it out in the maintenance room?

Or was it Baji’s fault for not noticing? Was it his fault for remaining ignorant and putting more faith in the rumors and what others think than his own observations and the subtle hints you may have dropped like crumbs along the way?)

When you look up at him with red eyes, Baji closes the door behind him, taking tentative steps. He stands in front of you as you bite your lip, glancing away, shamed.

Baji doesn’t dare blame you but he doesn’t defend you either. For the two of you both a hand in this situation. Your mistake was not trusting him enough, his was not noticing when he should had.

He kneels down in front of you, careful in his actions and watching you, vigilant in his monitoring. Keisuke slowly takes your hand into his, mindful in the way he holds you. He doesn’t grip on your hand as hard as he usually did but it isn’t that gentle either. The both of you knew that you weren’t fragile, this may be one of your more open moments but you sure as hell won’t break easily.

He only knew that treating you as if you were porcelain would make you feel even worse.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He questions, still holding your hand and rubbing circles to soothe you.

Silence followed and Keisuke understood immediately, making up his mind. Staying here might give you privacy but it was stuffy and a little harder to breathe in since it was closed off. You can’t go to classes either because teenagers are persistent and curious and the teachers don’t mind their words.

All Baji wants for you is for you to be able to pick yourself up, but this time, with him as he holds his hand out so you can take it if needed.

Baji offers his usual grin. “Let’s skip class and get some ice cream then.”

. . . MITSUYA TAKASHI

“Y/n? Y/n?” Mitsuya calls out worriedly, continuously knocking on your door. “Y/n, you in there?!”

You weren’t answering your phone and he hadn’t seen you for two days straight, and from that, Mitsuya believed that he had the right to be worried. You were usually bothering him the best that you could, sending either memes or reminders about things that he didn’t know you even knew about—it was heartwarming.

Mitsuya clicks his tongue, abandoning the act of knocking and deciding to walk around your house instead to pry the window open by the kitchen. You usually didn’t close it properly but made it seem like so, only Mitsuya knew about it, for emergencies. Well, he considers this as a goddamn emergency.

He slips in the window, almost pushing the rice cooker off the counter. Stumbling in, he spares a glance at the state of the rooms. The lights were off, things littering around here and there, placed randomly and without any care at all. He almost tripped on something twice with just the trek to your room.

The door was unlocked so he didn’t have to climb in any windows this time. If the rest of the house was a mess, your room looked as if a hurricane just passed. Your clothes were haphazardly pushed to the side, little trinkets strewn across the floor, your papers and books sprawled on your desk with some already fallen on the floor—unfinished and filled with scribbles that were clearly written in frustration.

The lights were also off and the windows shut, not letting any fresh air in and only a small amount of light.

He sees you on the floor, leaning on your bed, wrapped in a hoodie and just existing there, limp.

Mitsuya tiptoes to where you were, whispering your name with his brows furrowed. He stops beside you, squinting to see if you really were awake. You slowly blink your eyes open, staring up at him, eyes red and swollen along with your cheeks.

You wiped your tear-streaked face and Mitsuya was already on his knees, on the brink of panicking.

“Y/n? Hey, hey… What’s wrong? C’mere,” he murmurs, plopping down and opening his arms for you.

You looked at him warily, and Mitsuya could tell that you were gnawing on your cheek. He stares at your eyes, not daring to break the contact. You didn’t want to tell him anything, not yet, that was clear enough. Well, Mitsuya could live for a while without any answers.

He doesn’t think about himself, his own thoughts. He thinks about your well being instead. Everything else can wait. “I won’t insist if you don’t want me to.

“But…” He lowers his arms, just sitting there and trying to convey everything he wants to say with his gaze. I’ll be right here.”

. . . SANO MANJIRO

He didn’t expect to spend his weekend like this.

Everything started out calm enough. The two of you were just hanging around at your place, lazing around and doing your own things. From his peripheral vision, he could tell that something was weighing you down but he didn’t comment because it seemed fine enough.

But then he brought something up, an offhand comment about your recent performance, and you went toppling down like a house of cards against a strong wind in the middle of an open field.

He was looking at you when your face broke, your smile falling, and the first few tears gathering in your eyes as you let out a shaky exhale. Still, he sits there, freezing at your expression.

Manjiro felt sick to his stomach. The way you curled into yourself, eyes teary and looking up at him with both shame and overwhelming desperation, looking so lost and broken, it all reminded him of something.

It all reminded him of himself.

In his room, a few days after Shinichiro’s death, stumbling up and stopped in front of a mirror and saw the mess that was himself. You looked just like how he once was, how he sometimes is when no one is looking but himself.

Mikey was up on his feet once that all settled in, once he got a hold of himself. He was sitting on the mattress, lightly bouncing as he looked at you with apprehension etched on his features. What did he say wrong? What did he do wrong? What had he done for the water to finally overflow from the barely standing cup?

He was the last straw and Mikey cannot comprehend if that was a good thing or if it would ruin your relationship forever.

He was the last drop of water and this was the start of a flash flood.

Manjiro gathers you in his arms, not knowing what else to do as you sob and whisper apologies to him. You didn’t need to apologize, you weren’t supposed to, there was nothing to be sorry for. It was him who was to apologize, for what he said and his complete stupidity in this kind of situation. How would he know when no one was ever around to be there with him when he was in your position?

All he knew was that he wanted someone to hold him. He wanted someone to hold him so tight that it was enough to tell him that he wasn’t alone.

And he did just that.

Manjiro closes his eyes as you finally hold him back, clawing on his shirt, as he thinks about your smile and that easy going demeanor you always presented.

And perhaps, maybe the two of you were more similar than how he first thought.

[faulty-writes]

Faulty-san :D Do you know those cliche confessions in shoujo anime where boy meets with girl at the back of the school and confesses?

That but it's F!reader that confesses to Iida 👀 She says good things about him and what she likes about his personality and ends it with a bow(like how iida bows, arms on sides and proper angle) and "-Please date me!"

Take ur time :] and have a series of cat memes🐱 cause i love you

[ These cat pictures are both interesting and terrifying. But uh, thanks, I appreciate the love. Haha. So I do recall seeing and reading this in anime and manga. So let's see what we can do about this. ]

As you stood in front of him, you recalled the events that led up to this point. 'You have to confess to him now!' Ashido said, pointing a finger at your face. 'What?' you replied before shaking your head and pushing her finger aside.

In retaliation, she grabbed your shoulders firmly. 'Come on! You can't just let him slip through your fingers!' you sucked in a breath and glanced to the side, thinking over her words. But before you could respond, she took a step back.

'I'll tell him to meet you in the back of the school!' she exclaimed excitedly and before you had the chance to stop her, she was out of sight. A sigh escaped before you brought your hand up to press against your forehead in a frustrated manner.

Part of you had hoped that Tenya wouldn't follow through, but you should have known better. If anyone, especially a classmate requested his help he'd be there and as you stared at him and those beautiful red eyes of his, you found that your mind was blank.

Now that you were face to face with him, all those feelings, all those loving and romantic thoughts you had about him wouldn't surface. Was it because you were so nervous? The rapid beating of your heart and the butterflies in your stomach certainly indicated exactly that.

But surely you could push past your nervousness and actually confess to him, right? You opened your mouth to speak, but just as quickly shut it. Your throat suddenly felt tight and dry, forcing you to swallow the little saliva you could gather on your tongue.

Tenya raised one of his unusual eyebrows and leaned forward. "Are you feeling unwell?" he questioned, having noted your odd behavior and failed attempt at speaking. You opened your mouth yet again, but much like before no words came.

This caused him to feel more concerned about you, but after he cleared his throat he proceeded to address the problem. "Forgive me," he began as he lifted his hand into the air and proceeded to move it frantically as per usual.

"Mina stated that you wished to speak with me, but you appear rather timid or perhaps hesitant in regards to the topic or situation you desire to speak about," granted he knew assuming was rude and impolite, but this was not like your usual behavior.

So what is it that could be bothering you? Was it serious? "I would be honored if there was a way I could assist you," he wanted to ask if you needed medical attention but also thought it best to hear a verbal response from you first.

"Mm..." you glanced away, feeling your cheeks heat up. 'Okay take a deep breath and just say whatever comes to mind' most would think this was bad advice, but nonetheless, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose and out of your mouth.

Then you focused your attention on Tenya and took a step forward, somewhat startling him. "I like you, Iida!" his eyes widened and he looked dumbfounded, blinking once or twice before adjusting his glasses so they were once again balanced perfectly on the bridge of his nose.

"I...pardon?" he replied and you dropped your head with a sigh. "I..." the temptation to give up or turn around and run was strong. But you knew if you did that then you'd never hear the end of it from Ashido. So instead, you took another deep breath to regain your composure.

Picking your head back up, you took a step toward Tenya and while he continued to look confused, you blurted out, "I have...f-feelings for you Iida! I've liked you since...well since I saw you at the entrance exam a-and..." you glanced away which was probably best. You didn't exactly want to see what expression he was wearing right now.

"I...y-you're smart and helpful and honorable and c-cute when you're angry," or at least you thought so. "Oh, and y-your hand c-chopping thing...is...is c-cute too um..." you weakly copied the movement though it wasn't nearly as intense as when he did it.

"Y-you're just really great and considerate...I love your passion, i-it's well...d-different," you explained nervously before covering your mouth. What else could you say? There were so many other qualities that made you like him.

His appearance, his way of speaking, that slightly sexy tone he got in his voice when he barked out commands. "Y-Y/n I..." he was in disbelief, feeling an unusual heat rise in his cheeks at the series of compliments you had just delivered him.

However, he had no prior experience when it came to romance and though he knew it was courteous to acknowledge someone else's feelings, he didn't get the chance to do so because you proceeded to bow. Your posture was straight and your hands firmly pressed against your sides.

"P-please..." you said as the wind came to gently ruffle your hair, "d-date me..." you could barely believe what you were asking. There was no way Tenya would agree to date you, would he? Then again, you didn't want to be rejected.

'Damn it!' you felt your heart sink and your anxiety begin to get the better of you. "I...I'm rather flattered that you feel such a way, however-" he reached out but ended up recoiling when you suddenly turned and ran.

He looked shocked before calling after you, but it was too late. Maybe it was silly to let your emotions get the better of you. But you didn't want to be rejected so soon after confessing. Tomorrow maybe, but not today.

A frown came to his face before he lowered his hand to his side. "Perhaps Y/n was seeking immediate clarification," he stated out loud, continuing to feel the rapid pace of his heart and the heat of his slightly flushed face.

The feeling of guilt then came, but he quickly shook his head. "I'll speak with her tomorrow," he said, grasping his chin in thought. "However, it would be beneficial to conduct a search on the proper etiquettes of a date," then again, he could ask his friends for advice on this particular situation.

More than likely he'd be speaking about it to them regardless, but perhaps they weren't the best source to seek romantic knowledge from. He trusted them, and he knew they only sought his best interest. Yet, it would be more appropriate to keep this a secret between the two of you for now.

[floaroanemoia]

“Here, lean on me. I’ll support you.”

Injury starter meme || Accepting @volot

     When the heavens grace the earth—for that brief window in time are those capable of bridging the gap between the living and the dead obligated to act. Mist washing upon the soil in waves, caressing mortal flesh in a manner reverent and yet so distance, are they summoned to sites sacred and cradled upon the tops of hills, illuminated by starlight. A reunion of the heavens, life, and death—the stars, the earth, and the mist. When, from arches and stairs of carved marble, are the voices of the Original One, the Life Giver and The End and lay just within reach. A generous gift for humankind, an opportunity to call upon the gods to bind those which cannot rest; life now passed on, who seek to disrupt the peace. From stones carved, to bind the departed souls—one hundred and eight stars of heaven and earth, like the wholeness of existence; of temptations and completion. For this reason had Sarana, carrying a stone shaped in the likeness of the original seal, made her way to Shrouded Ruins.

     Beyond towers of piled boulders—proud proclamations of having heard the voice of Sinnoh, immortalised for generations to gaze upon and pray before—,atop crumbling steps, and past murals from a time long gone. Moonlight upon golden strands, reflecting up to the stars the same, shimmering light that flows through blessed veins. She stood, having swapped her characteristic cloak for that of a peplos, and its hood for a veil draped over a headpiece, and crowned by a wreath of lilies, white and sitting only at the sides of the woman’s head. The correct attire, although perhaps not the same as it might have been thousands of years ago on account of the cold. The correct person for such a ritual, although not accompanied by mentees and communities and important figures, like in the past. Melodies and prayers had fallen, coaxing from a peculiar stone atop a hill behind the ruins to glow, and from it reach out to the keystone that balanced in cupped hands.

     Yet it has never been an easy ordeal.

     In the pursuit of balance, in the giving of blessings from the gods and a willing vessel to siphon it all into something once unremarkable, does a toll exact itself. From steady hands, to quivering, to feeling sapping itself from mortal flesh and heaviness taking place. A series of events Sarana has long familiarised herself with—life, coming close to the brink of death, for the sake of divine justice. So many times could the medium recall losing consciousness among the latest—of stumbling far enough to slump against decorative pillars, before slipping beneath the mist. Not a soul has been strong enough to endure it. She is no different. This time had been no different. Except for one, small detail:

     Someone appeared to have followed her.

     For how long they had been there—what they had seen exactly—, Sarana knows not. Yet the voice that echoes in her ears, the arm that had brought her up from the ground and aided her search for balance, why they are ones that the woman recognises. Faint, and almost unreal, but unmistakeable. Perhaps she ought to have expected it—for Volo to be drawn to a place such as this, when a phenomenon like the fog rolling upon the soil came around once again. Had it been anyone else, the thought to use the last of her strength to scream, lash out, or yell to heavens for help might have crossed her mind. Shoulders slump. A lean towards the direction she believes his voice comes from, obscured by the beating of her heart which so long ago moved from within the blonde’s chest to every crevice of her mind. Eyes open, the shade of wilting red roses, as opposed to scarlet, and with how the world around her doubles, then triples, and begins to move, bile rises in the back of her throat. How Sarana wishes they could close once more. Yet they cannot—not now. Not until they confirm one, important detail in the moment and not after he has taken her away from this place.

     The keystone. It is no longer in her grasp.

         “W-Wait—the stone. I need--…”

     Had it fallen from the medium’s hands? Surely, she thinks in words as hazy and endless as the mist swirling beneath them, that must be it. Eyes shift. A glow in the distance—a bright purple, bleeding even into the area near the two, carried by the fog. At least, she thinks, it has worked—at least it would be strange enough for her to not have to describe for Volo to understand what she refers to. With what little strength she can muster, the medium prepares to dig her heels into the ground—a resort for if words fail, or reality betrays her and the plea was simply in Sarana’s head.

         “It cannot stay here… Please—don’t leave it.”

     What a pain this will be, to talk about when all of this has passed. How terrifying, to possibly be questioned on just what she had been doing—what that stone was; how she could have known the ruins were capable of something like that.

         “I’ll… explain later.”

[santastic]

the big, bad wolf || hwang hyunjin oneshot

》》 pairing: hyunjin x female reader

》》 summary: every year, you and the boys celebrate halloween with a party at hyunjin's - who just so happens to be your mortal frenemy. every year, you all dress up. this year, however, you decide to make it a bit more interesting: everyone picks an outfit for their random secret santa partner. it seems like a bit of innocent fun, but felix has an idea...

》》 word count: 2.4k

》》 genre/tags: halloween au, not quite e2l but e2 like...sexy tension???, suggestive themes (mostly just implications), a little bit of crack lmao

》》 warnings: cliche cheesy dirty flirting (come on hyunjin you're better than this), thicc romantic and sexual tension, reader is a simp in denial, suggestive themes, implied smut at the end, talk of biting but no actual biting, reader has dom vibes, hyunjin is bold until someone else is bolder

》》 notes: my first oneshot on this blog! I already wrote a halloween drabble, but I felt like writing something bigger than that and my friend (I see u vi) inspired me by suggesting some spicy hyunjin content. n e ways, happy halloween everyone! and if u don’t celebrate halloween, I hope u have a lovely weekend <3

navigation || skz masterlist

Halloween is always fun with your friend group. I mean, it's fun anyway - lots of cheap candy, neighbourhood celebrations, an excuse to get way too drunk - it's just a lot more fun with eight other crackheads.

You guys have a sort of tradition going by now, even though each year is a bit different. Hyunjin throws the party, Minho brings the alcohol and hides it from Chan until it's too late to stop everyone from getting shitfaced, Jeongin and Felix bring ungodly amounts of candy, and Jisung is a skeleton (literally every single year - it started when you called Tate Langdon's skeleton makeup hot, and it never ended).

Everyone (except Jisung) keeps their costume a secret - unless they're Chan and Felix, in which case they do couple costumes and keep it a secret from everyone else. Sometimes you even decide on a theme, like the year before the last, where everyone was supposed to dress as their favourite Pokemon. This inevitably led to intense fighting roleplays to assert dominance as your respective type, and in order to spare your reputation in the neighbourhood, you decided the next theme would be a little less wild.

This year, the theme was 'secret Santa costumes', meaning you each picked a random name from a hat to decide who you would be buying a costume for and a few days before Halloween, you were given your own costume to wear to the party by whoever pulled your name from the hat of destiny.

Technically that's not how secret Santa works, but no one questions Chan when it comes to holiday business.

You just so happened to get Jisung, and while the temptation to keep the skeleton thing going just for the meme was definitely there, you ultimately decided he should be a classic bedsheet ghost - except with no eye or hand holes cut out. You know, to add a little sprinkle of chaos to his already very chaotic life.

The lovely boy who decided your spooky fate was Felix, who had coincidentally been in charge of buying Hyunjin’s costume too - when you asked why, he said it was because the number of people was uneven, so he had kindly volunteered to take on an extra. You had honestly expected him to pick something weird or wild for you, so you were quite surprised by the outfit he had settled on.

"Is this...little red riding hood?" you had asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you stared at the dress and hood in your hands.

"Yep! I saw it the other day and I thought it would be nice to go for one of the classics, you know?" he had explained, smiling as if he was ever so proud about his decision. Something about the hint of mischief in his eyes made you suspicious, but you had let it slide. "You don't mind, right?"

No, you didn't mind. You had given Jisung a ghost costume, so you didn’t really have room to speak on the originality of Felix’s decision. Besides, the dress didn’t look too cheap, nor did it look especially short, and the hood-cape made you feel way too powerful for someone wearing a $20 Target costume.

So you really didn't mind at all, until it came to the day of the party. Now, as you stand in the doorway to Hyunjin’s apartment, you suddenly mind a lot more.

”Lee Felix, I’m going to decorate the lawn with your fucking intestines, oh my god!” you whisper-yell to the boy who conveniently manages to dart away with the excuse of needing to help Jeongin open all the candy bags. Your angry eyes follow his retreating blue form - Chan picked his outfit this year, and of course he decided Felix should be an Among Us character.

Everyone in the group knows about the slight tension (read: obvious beef) between you and Hyunjin. Technically speaking, you’re friends. He invites you to his parties, you hang out with him when he’s with the boys. It’s just that neither of you can stand each other, because you’re both very bold and even more stubborn.

Whenever the two of you are together, you bicker like children and it’s pretty much endless. You could probably throw insults (and the occasional murder threat) at each other all day if the other members didn’t interrupt, and on those days you’d be more than happy to teach Hyunjin a lesson with a nice, strong punch in the nose if the opportunity were ever to present itself.

So, with this in mind, it’s quite clear why you’re planning Felix’s murder when you see Hyunjin walking around as the big, bad wolf.

You’re genuinely considering sneaking out the front door before anyone else sees you and running back to your apartment (because Felix just so happens to be your ride home), but fate decides to mess with you and suddenly, Hyunjin locks eyes with you from across the living room.

The way a huge smile instantly graces his pretty face sends a rush of butterflies, followed by anger, through you as you stare back at him. His clip on wolf ears are admittedly quite cute, but the fake fangs he’s wearing send your thoughts in a very different direction. As he makes his way over, you suddenly wish you had followed Felix to the kitchen - at least they keep the alcohol in there. In his living room, you’ve got no choice but to deal with Hyunjin while sober.

”Well, would you look at that? Seems like I found my little red riding hood.” he teases with a wink, leaning against the wall beside the door.

When you scoff at him, he gives you another big grin and you can’t help but stare at the fangs again. The vibrant blue contact lenses he’s wearing make his gaze feel intense even when he’s smiling, and the way his long, blonde hair falls freely gives him a glow that’s both angelic and positively demonic. He looks so annoyingly handsome, as per usual; if only his personality wasn’t the personification of the words ‘cocky asshole’. You can’t help but think it’s a huge waste of beauty.

“Excuse me-” you begin, ready to start the first round of arguing, but he cuts you off like the annoying brat he is.

“You’re excused,” he says, thinking his comment was very smart, and if it wasn’t a night meant for fun and games, you might’ve killed him on the spot.

“Fine, excuse you. I’m not your little red riding hood. In fact, I’m not your anything, thank you very much,” you snap, brushing past his tall figure as you head to the table the boys have set up to the side. There’s an array of Halloween-themed food, prepared by Chan, and you settle for a red velvet cupcake decorated with black frosting and what you assume are meant to be cat ears poking out of it.

“Right, sure, but we’re still matching tonight. It’s kind of like-”

This time, you cut him off. “It’s not like Chan and Felix. It’s not. We’re not wearing couple costumes, so don’t say it.”

He shuts his mouth (finally) and you take it as your cue to leave before he says something else to piss you off. Unfortunately, he seems to have the desire to ruin your night further and chooses to follow you on your journey.

“So anyway, I guess this was Felix’s plan, right?” He gestures to your costumes. “Unless you had something to do with it, that is.”

You don’t bother to address the second part of what he said and instead just nod, scanning the room for the previously mentioned mastermind. As soon as you can get your hands on that boy, you swear you’ll slaughter him for subjecting you to Hyunjin’s torturous teasing all night.

“He was already on thin ice after trying to tell me Bulbasaur is a better starter than Charmander, but now he’s actually dead to me,” you growl out once you spot him sitting beside Minho, laughing happily with his classic red solo cup and a slice of chocolate cake. Jeongin sits beside them, tearing open bags of candy with no assistance from Felix, because of course he was lying about helping him earlier.

Hyunjin laughs softly and you curse your heart for skipping a beat at the sound. Sometimes it feels like your head hates Hyunjin while your body is stupid enough to like him, and it’s part of the reason why you hate talking to him so much. Every time you stop throwing insults and sass at him and instead sit back and listen to what he has to say, a part of you realises you don’t exactly have a proper reason for disliking him. He’s not all that bad, and sometimes you even find yourself laughing at his jokes and witty remarks.

But you’d really rather not go through the endless cycle of those thoughts right now, especially when the cause of your problems is standing beside you eating a chocolate bar.

“I have to say, though,” you comment as you turn to look him up and down, “the big, bad wolf concept suits you pretty well.”

Before he can accept the compliment, you continue. “You’re both big, hairy beasts who dress like grandmas.”

The obvious offence on his face is so satisfying you almost wanna snap a photo to reflect on this moment in the future, but you refrain from doing so. He would just pose anyway, and the photo would probably end up making your stupid heart flutter again.

“Well, at least you think I’m big. Besides, if dressing like a grandma gets me closer to eating you, then I suppose it’s a sacrifice I’ll have to make,” he whispers in a husky, seductive voice that kind of makes you want to choke-slam him, but you suspect he might enjoy that anyway.

It angers you when he makes flirty comments like that, because as annoying as they are and despite you knowing full well he only says it to get under your skin, it still makes your heart race every time. Maybe in another universe, Hyunjin is a sweet boy who innocently flirts with you and brings you roses instead of a big, bad bitch who’s just acting like a horny teenager. Annoyingly enough though, you think you’d fall for him either way.

You turn away with the intention of finally escaping to the kitchen to grab something to drink, hoping to settle the thoughts dancing around your head, but he reaches for your wrist. The feeling of his fingers pressing warmth into your skin just makes your head spin even more, and you’re so distracted you don’t pull away from him.

"Aw, don’t run away now. Are you scared of me, little red? There’s no need to be, I’m just joking. I won’t bite unless you beg me to."

You pull your arm back as soon as the words leave his mouth. Hyunjin has a lot of things (a severely irritating personality, a stupidly handsome face for such an asshole, a loud voice solely meant for pissing you off on a daily basis, the list goes on), but the thing he definitely has most is the fucking audacity.

However, the most annoying part by far is the way you feel your face heat up when you register the last thing he said. You’d rather die than let him make you flustered, so you shake your head slightly to clear those thoughts from your mind and look him in the eye again.

"Scared? Me?" you scoff, staring him down with a steady glare and if he was anyone else, he'd probably shiver in fear.

Unfortunately, he is not anyone else. He is Hwang Hyunjin, and Hwang Hyunjin does not shiver; he beams with a smug grin and makes your blood boil.

"Mhm. Look at you. You’re basically dressed as my prey tonight, babe." He purrs the pet name like the absolute fuckboy he is. "And sure, the real you is feisty, but you're all bark and no bite."

The overly confident, proud smirk on his face makes him look like a damn peacock flaunting its feathers, and you decide then and there that you'll do anything to get rid of it.

"All bark," you echo his words, walking towards him slowly, "and no bite, huh?"

You swear you see his eyes widen for a split second at your change in demeanor before the stupid smirk returns, and the little rush of victory you feel from catching him off guard is enough to keep you walking forward.

His gaze never leaves yours, especially when you're standing on the tips of your toes in front of him, noses just barely brushing against each other. Your hands grip his shoulder to balance you, and you run a finger over his collarbone up towards his cheek, where you gently cup his face. The small distance between the two of you means you can hear his slightly uneven breathing and see the curiosity swirling in his bright blue eyes as he waits for your next move.

You reach a hand up and thread your fingers through his long, bleach blonde hair, and his breath hitches when you gently tug at it. Even his wolf ears almost seem to droop submissively. He doesn't dare move, but his eyes keep flicking down to your lips and back up again.

"Now, that's just not true at all, is it?" you whisper, tilting your head as if waiting for an answer, but he can't find the words to form a witty response. It’s about time he learned some manners, really, even if he needed your guidance for that.

"I'm warning you now," you continue, "you might wanna watch your tone. I might look like your prey, but I promise I bite harder than you do, babe."

You make sure to emphasise the pet name, purring it in the same way he did minutes before. He bites down on his bottom lip, and the way his fangs press into them makes you lick your own lips nervously. It seems as though he can't take the tension anymore, because he goes to lean in and finally close the distance between the two of you as his hands find your hips.

Of course, you'd never let him have that control, especially after his bold attitude from earlier. Even though the temptation to lean in is certainly there, you step away from him and smile sweetly.

"Learned your lesson yet, puppy?"

He doesn’t respond for a moment, clearly still taking in what just happened. When he registers your question, he tilts his head to the side as if in thought - the way a dog might, funnily enough - before he hums quietly.

“I’m not sure. Maybe you should teach me once more, little red,” he suggests, voice low and slightly breathless, “but preferably a bit more in depth this time.”

- ᴇ ɴ ᴅ -

(A/N: AHHHHH I haven’t written a oneshot in SUCH a long time oh my god,,,,, it was a lot of fun tho even if I’m not super confident writing full things. this one was short anyway so I kinda feel like it doesn’t count, but I’m still v happy to finally post my first skz oneshot! I hope you enjoyed it and thank you for reading <3)

© santastic  —  all rights reserved. reposting, translating, copying and/or stealing is prohibited. ask permission if you wish to create anything inspired by my original ideas.

[lambourngb]

“It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower”

First line tag

A million years ago, an anon sent me this ask for the first line meme. I woke up possessed and wrote “stuck in gravity, clawing for some bravery” in 10 days.  This story is complete, 23,000 words. I put the first two chapters up on AO3 early in honor of the news of our show coming back. The rest goes up tomorrow.

beta thanks to the wonderful @tasyfa

Pairing: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes, Alex Manes/Forrest Long, Michael Guerin/Maria Deluca (past) Kyle Valenti/Maria Deluca (implied/mentioned)

Tags: Starts Forlex ends in Malex, Getting back together, Nebulous Season 3, Angst,  Pining, Alien Soulmate Bullshit, Emotional Infidelity, Communication, Emotional Hurt/Comforot,  Explicit Sexual Content, Dirty Talk , Telepathy, Handprint Sex

Summary: A year after Crashcon, Michael knows three things for certain. 

1. He loves Alex and he probably definitely always will.

2. Having Alex as his best friend makes everything in his life better.

3. Knowing, thanks to his bullshit alien biology, that Alex still fantasizes about his body regularly while dating someone else for a year, well, that is a little more difficult to navigate. 

It’s fine. It is all just fine. 

Author Notes: This content is probably not appropriate for review by a college writing class on tumblr, just saying but you’re welcome to leave a kudo if you like it. 

*****

It was supposed to be a regular, boring morning shower for Michael. 

His first Sunday off in over three months deserved a little self-care, he had decided. The summer had brought an abrupt uptick in work at the garage with increased summertime driving leading to more careless accidents and stranded motorists to tow to safety. While Walt would deny it to the end, Michael couldn’t help but notice the old man had slowed down in his work. Between doing his best to keep Sanders’ in business and taking shifts at the Crashdown to fill in for the still-absent Liz so Arturo and Rosa could have their own break, taking the time for more than a perfunctory late night wash down felt luxurious to Michael.

There was a point to staying busy, with filling every hour inside an engine or on a different project around the junkyard with his trailer and that point was distraction. Distraction from the awareness that everyone was thriving. Max and his new-found ‘cousin’ Jones were reconstructing the history of their people’s language and literature together. Isobel had recently celebrated her three-month anniversary with Monica, an artist who shared the same studio space as Rosa. Maria had made exploring her alien-rooted abilities the focus of her life outside of the bar, combining her knowledge of yoga and meditation to crack the ability of moving forward in time. With that success, she had managed to bring back the answer to saving her brain from damage from the future. Her work with Kyle in developing the treatment for her and Mimi had led a new romance there. Then there was Alex, the true focus of Michael’s need for distraction, marking a one-year anniversary with Forrest. 

It was fine. All Michael had ever wanted was for Alex to be happy. The distractions he had filled his life with helped soothe the edges of knowing who was at the root of Alex’s new-found peace.

In the last year, Michael had built a permanent wooden deck out in front of his Airstream, transforming his fire pit into an outdoor brick barbecue oven, before moving on to recycle discarded auto glass into window panes for a small greenhouse complete with a rainwater cistern off the rear of the trailer. The actual interior boasted its own changes, an expanded shower stall and more of a kitchen set up than a hotplate and kettle with a small split-level stove and expanded countertop. The next task was building a canopy to shield the deck from the elements. At some point, Michael had acknowledged to himself that each piece he had worked on had turned his portable, transient can-go-anywhere Airstream into a stable fixture at Sanders’. 

A home with roots. 

A home without Alex and he had accepted that, respecting Alex’s choice of partner. They were the right people for each other, but were always meeting at the wrong time. For a while, he had waited patiently for things to end with Forrest. He had been happy enough to work on being Alex’s friend in the meantime. Then, once they were truly friends sharing every stupid moment of their days via a text message or over a beer at his trailer, he had felt the betrayal of his selfish thoughts keenly. What kind of friend would root for a break-up? What kind of friend would wish heartbreak on the other?

The asshole kind, he had concluded. 

As the hot water from the shower head poured over his head though, the acceptance he had about Alex moving on was just a little farther from his reach because Alex was currently thinking about him. They weren’t platonic friend-thoughts either.

A ghost sensation of a hand skirted down Michael’s body, lingering over his chest hair, and fuck, Alex had really loved to card his fingers through it. His mind was awash with impulses not his own, hot anticipation and the thrill of pleasure dropped down his body like the free-falling crest of a rollercoaster. Michael closed his eyes, soaking in the feelings. A gasp escaped his mouth, heard by no one in his trailer. Good God, Alex was really ready, waking with morning wood or to someone — Wrapping his own hand around his hardening cock, Michael stroked himself in time with Alex’s thoughts, pushing aside his own. It was best to just give into temptation and enjoy the moment. 

It was something he had learned to embrace with varying degrees of eagerness over the last few years. 

The connection with Alex had formed apparently sometime after the shed, but it had taken him over ten years and Alex moving back to Roswell to realize what was going on between them. The summer they had turned eighteen, they had barely been able to keep their hands off each other in the desert, and when Michael was alone, all he could think about back then, was Alex. His head had been a complex swirl of emotion, slingshotting him from the highs of seeing Alex to the lows of facing his own aborted future. There was the longing for Alex, the sadness that he knew their time was limited because Alex was going to go places, and he was stuck in Roswell watching over Isobel, but in the background, of what he thought was a relic from Jesse’s attack, was always a sense of sick fear, of being caught. Again.

Then over the last ten years, Michael would experience this awareness, and suddenly all he could think about was Alex. How it felt to touch him, the wickedness of his mouth, the burn and the stretch to accept Alex’s cock as he took him inside with a bitten lip- Michael thought it was just his mind, giving him a touchstone to happiness and the remembrance of being loved briefly by Alex. Nostalgia. Afterwards as he caught his breath, with his chest splattered with come, the sadness would seep in again, stealing whatever light that was made by those memories.

It wasn’t until after the drive-in, when Alex had spent almost two months avoiding him in person, that Michael had realized that those moments, late at night or early in the morning, were tied to Alex. It took falling into his bed one night, after visiting Isobel in her pod to finally piece it together. His face had hurt from crying on the drive home and the urge to sleep and never wake up again had been so incredibly strong that it took a moment for him to realize he was thinking about Alex. His cock hadn’t even been on his radar, but suddenly all he could think about was getting sucked off. 

Fuck, he hadn’t wanted it then, too sad and scared about Isobel to feel much connection to his body for the purposes of pleasure, but the sensations and feelings that had overtaken Michael were too intense to fight that night. Later as he panted, open-mouthed and staring at the ceiling of his Airstream with distant thoughts of cleaning up, his phone rang once. Only the once. Then a ding of a text.

Alex -is home: Sorry pocket dialed.

The rush of self-loathing that hit Michael as he read the message had been so strong he had dropped the phone on the floor of the trailer. That’s when he knew it wasn’t his feelings in his head because in all the years of knowing Alex, of loving Alex, he had never once felt disgust toward himself for his feelings for Alex. From the moment across a borrowed guitar, Michael had accepted the tilt of his axis toward Alex Manes as a fundamental fact, like force equalling mass times acceleration.

Alex hadn’t shared that comfort, and the more Michael tuned into what was going on in Alex’s head, the more his heart broke. Two things became clear to Michael over time; the occurrences were sporadic enough for him to know that he only felt them when Alex was specifically thinking about Michael when he jerked off, and the post-orgasm feelings of disgust and self-loathing were not isolated incidents for Alex to feel afterwards.

“Sometimes things end in a whimper, Guerin-” and Michael had numbly accepted that as proof that while Alex might enjoy thinking about his body, about the ways he had pleasured Alex in the past, Alex had no desire for anything more from Michael. The sex was epic, fodder for a late night fantasy, but Michael himself? He was not someone that Alex wanted to want. 

He had changed Alex’s name in his phone from “Alex -is home” to “Alex -is a bad idea” after that and then cursed himself for the trick of alien biology, doomed to be forever aware that he was an example of backsliding to Alex. When Maria had reached for him that night in Texas, he had welcomed her because she seemed at least self-aware of the fact she didn’t want to want him. There was zero chance of a misunderstanding between them that night, even as he kicked himself for still following after people who swore to him that it would never happen again.

For a long time after Caulfield, he had thought perhaps the grief of losing his mother had broken the link with Alex, setting them both free in the wreckage and dust of the prison. The dying psychic screams of his people had rolled over him, scorching his thoughts into cinders as that last connection to love and hope burned out in his mind, his mother’s life extinguishing under the thunder of Semtex and C-4. Then one night shortly after moving his trailer to the Wild Pony, it had happened again. The same overwhelming feeling of need, of longing, but this time the self-loathing afterwards had been accompanied by a crippling feeling of guilt. He had laid there in the twilight of the Wild Pony’s loft, having silently come into his palm while the sound of Maria’s breathing brushed against his ear. For the first time, he had joined Alex in that feeling of self-hatred. 

It was past the time for him to flip the switch from ‘tortured lust’ to some semblance of friendship with Alex, if he could and so tentatively, he agreed to work on uncovering his mother’s past together with him. He updated his phone again with that decision in mind to “Alex -sup bro”.

After Maria had learned the truth about Rosa and sent him away with betrayed eyes, he experienced a moment of weakness for Alex after the visit they had made to the Long Farm. There had been a lightness in how Alex had moved that day, his steps had been considered but committed as they had explored the last place his mother had felt at home on earth. Inside of Michael’s heart, he had been able to feel the pieces moving together while he had stood in a place where Nora had had a family, next to a man who had always represented that promise to Michael. The openness of Alex’s smile as they had waited for Forrest Long to reappear had had Michael thinking dangerous thoughts again about a future with him.

What if.  What if Alex were ready to take a step toward him without the weight of the past? 

That tenuous hope had lasted until the night after Alex had given him the piece of the ship’s console. Standing in his bunker near two am, he had been examining the new piece of his ship, of his past, puzzling over why it wasn’t bonding with the rest of the console when he had felt the awareness of Alex creep into his cells, into his DNA. Eagerly he had opened his jeans with both hands and had fisted his cock, letting himself go with the pull of Alex’s desire. In the aftermath, he had found himself on the floor of the bunker, with come dripping off a fallen drawing of a ship’s engine, but near tears with the knowledge that nothing had changed for Alex. It had still been the same fear flooding his veins, still the same anchor of tortured longing and deep shame weighing his limbs down even as he had been left wrecked by how good his body had felt.

It had been madness for Michael the next few months as he had fallen in deeper with Maria, while the connection with Alex had kept tugging at his soul. There had been little rhyme or reason to when it had happened. Weeks would pass where he apparently hadn’t crossed Alex’s mind once, and then there had been a week when every night Michael had been hit with the same mix of love, lust and bottomless need. Thankfully it had matched with the week-long retreat Maria and Mimi had taken together, saving Michael the work of explaining to her why he was wearing out the washing machines at the Fluff N Fold with his dirty sheets.

The self-torment Alex had felt about him had slowly lifted, to the point when Michael had found out the truth about Walt Sanders, he had called Alex without hesitation. The contact in his phone had changed to ‘Alex- best bro’. If he had finally become a measure of comfort for Alex to remember in his most personal moments, then perhaps Alex could also become a comfort to him, without the mire of their trauma holding them frozen in place. 

He had been fooling himself completely in the aftermath of Alex’s abduction that friendship would ever be enough for him. The wounds from his breakup with Maria had still been bleeding below his skin when he had stepped into the Wild Pony to hear Alex singing about him. About them. Then he had been hit with the connection, blossoming open for the first time ever in Alex’s actual presence under the spell of his song. 

There had still been a ghost of darkness in Alex’s feelings for him, as he had sung about fighting battles but for the first time in a long time, Michael had felt that there was hope that Alex was finally finding peace with Jesse dead. Despite Isobel’s prodding him to stay and make a move, he had known that it wasn’t their time yet. There had been too much grief and regret swirling in his head, and not just from Alex, but he could be patient for them both for the right moment. The connection had never felt more alive between them that night on the promise of a future.

At least that was what he had thought, until time had kept passing yet here he was, standing in his shower with his hand on his dick a year later, while Alex was across town in someone else’s bed but clearly thinking about him.

Michael watched as his seed dripped down the fiberglass walls, the shower spray sending it down the drain in an eddy of his own frustrated longing. His body was calm, at least, and his mind was buzzing with happiness from Alex. He concentrated on the euphoria floating between them in particular. Alex had soaked up pleasure this morning, pursuing it with a greed that Michael couldn’t help but admire, and then he had let himself go without any hint of shame. God, it felt good to know that Alex had finally found that comfort with himself.

He breathed in and out, counting the seconds down until the connection faded. Once it was over, he gave himself five more minutes under the hot spray, letting whatever was welling in his eyes, slip unseen down his face. He cursed his stupid alien biology in the same breath that he clung to it for giving him Alex again, if only briefly. 

After he was dressed for his brunch plans with everyone, he checked his phone before he left, to find a text from Alex. The contact had been updated one more time, six months after the Crashcon, from “Alex -best bro” to “Alex -bf”. Isobel had been way too excited to see that notation, until Michael had patiently explained it had stood for ‘best friend’. Maybe in another universe it was ‘boyfriend’, just not this one.

This wasn’t crumbs, he had argued to her, Alex was still a feast for him in whatever way he could have him. He read the text with his mind still working to box up the feelings that lingered for Alex, “Tell everyone we will be late- overslept”. The ‘we’ was what puzzled Michael the most about the whole situation over the last year. Why was Alex still thinking about Michael the way he did while he was with someone else?

AO3 link for more

[xamassed]

｢ meme / @box-of-characters​ ｣

( CHIN ) for Obsidian and Seteth >:3c

It was strange being on the other side of situations like this. He rarely went so far as to direct another in making eye contact, but he would often wait and vocally prompt it. Students, when guilty, liked to avoid meeting his eyes knowing full well that they would find a great deal of disappointment and ( in some cases ) a stubborn hope that they might improve.

Here and now, he was the one reluctant to look up. Unfortunately for him, it was hard not to follow when made to.

Chin lifted and gaze turned up, Seteth had no choice but to peer up into Obsidian’s bright, luminous eyes. His own flicked away for a moment, but he couldn’t avoid the temptation of looking back for too long. She was tall and strong, calm and collected, respectable and mature. There were many aspects of her that he admired, but it was her eyes that drew him in.

“You have my attention.  .  .” She always did.

[themusedump]

Halsey + Manic (2020) sentence memes because I truly love this album. I don’t like it as much as badlands but it really is good. I plan on doing a meme of all three of her major albums. 

ashley

“I can't remember why the decision wasn't mine but it seems I'm only clinging to an idea now.” “Took my heart and sold it out to a vision that I wrote myself.” “I only wanna die some days.” “When I burst into flames I'll leave you the dust, my love.” “I told you I'd spill my guts.” “Seems like now it's impossible to work this out.” “Is it really that strange if I always wanna change?” “I think I'm making a mistake” “But if I decide to break, who will fill the empty space?” “Apart from my beating heart. It's a muscle but it's still not strong enough to carry the weight of the choices I've made.” “I told you I'd ride this out.” “It's getting harder every day somehow.”

clementine

“And in my world, the people on the street don't know my name.” “Because in my world, I'm constantly, constantly havin' a breakthrough.” “Would you make out with me underneath the shelter of the balcony?“ “'Cause I don't need anyone,” “I don't need anyone. I just need everyone and then some.” “The blush in your cheeks says that you bleed like me.” “Would you make out with me on the floor of the mezzanine?” “And still with one eye open, well, all I see is you.” “I left my daydreams at the gate because I just can't take 'em too.”

graveyard

“It's crazy when the thing you love the most Is the detriment.” “Oh, 'cause I keep digging myself down deeper.” “I won't stop till I get where you are.” “They say I may be making a mistake.” “I woulda followed all the way, no matter how far.” “You look at me with eyes so dark I don't know how you even see.” “Oh, it's funny how the warning signs can feel like they're butterflies.”

you should be sad

“I gotta get it off my chest.” “Got no anger, got no malice, just a little bit of regret.” “Know nobody else will tell you.” “No, you're not half the man you think that you are.” “You can't fill the hole inside of you with money, drugs and cars.” “I'm so glad I never ever had a baby with you.” “You can't love nothing unless there's something in it for you.” “Oh, I feel so sorry.” “I feel so sad.” “I tried to help you, it just made you mad.” “And I had no warning about who you are.” “I'm just glad I made it out.” “Won't see your alligator tears ‘cause, no, I've had enough of them.” “I really meant well from the start.” “Take a broken man right in my hands and then put back all his parts.” “You can't fill the hole inside of you with money, girls and cars.” “You should be sad.”

forever ... (is a long time)

“And I curse the ground for growing green.” “I spent a long time substituting honest with sarcastic.” “I curse my tongue for being mean.” “He cut me open, sucked the poison from an aging wound.” “I could never hold a perfect thing and not demolish it.” “What am I thinking? What does this mean?” “How could somebody ever love me?” “Talk to your man, tell him he's got bad news coming.”

dominic's Interlude

“Your eyes are fragile and timeless.” “There's power in the words you whisper.” “He/she treats you cold and so mindless.” “Your eyes are drawn to the wine list.” “You should know there's power in the words you're thinking.” “Walk on the edge with someone new.” “You can take a chance, come take my hand.”

I HATE EVERYBODY

“I'm my own biggest enemy.” “My friends are getting bored of me.” “I don't know what they all think of me.” “But in reality I don't even remember anything but thinking you're the one.” “And I can force a future like it's nothing.” “I just hate everybody.” “Why can't I go home without somebody?” “I could fall in love with anybody who don't want me.” “I hate everybody. But, maybe I don't.” “I know I've got a tendency to exaggerate what I'm seein.” “It's 'cause I notice every single thing that's ever happening in the moment.” “But none of it is love so while I'm waiting for it.” “If I could make you love me, maybe you could make me love me.” “And if I can't make you love me then I'll just hate everybody.”

3am

“Darling, I've just left the bar.” “I've misplaced all my credit cards.” “Think I took it way too far.” “My insecurities are hurting me.” “Someone, please come and flirt with me.” “I really need a mirror that'll come along and tell me that I'm fine.” “I do it every time.” “Come on and make me feel alright again.” “I'm calling everybody that I know.” “I need it digital ‘cause, baby, when it's physical, I end up alone.” “Know that my identity's always gettin' the best of me.” “I'm the worst of my enemies and I don't really know what to do with me.” “And will you please pick up the fucking phone?“

without me

“Found you when your heart was broke.” “Took it so far to keep you close.” “I was afraid to leave you on your own.” “I said I'd catch you if you fall ad if they laugh, then fuck 'em all.” “And then I got you off your knees, put you right back on your feet just so you could take advantage of me.” “You know I'm the one who put you up there,” “Does it ever get lonely thinking you could live without me?” “I don't know why.” “Just running from the demons in your mind. then I took yours and made 'em mine.” “I didn't notice 'cause my love was blind.” “You don't have to say just what you did .I already know.” “So tell me, how's it feel?”

finally // beautiful stranger

“Sour apple baby, but you taste so sweet.” “And I wonder if you'd like to meet.” “Your voice is velvet through a telephone.” “You can come to mine, but both my roommates are home.” “Think I know a bar where they would leave us alone.” “And I wonder if you'd take it slow.” “The truth is this. That I've never seen a mouth that I would kill to kiss.” “And I'm terrified, but I can't resist.” “Beautiful stranger, here you are in my arms.” “I know that beautiful strangers only come along to do me wrong.” “But I think it's finally safe for me to fall.” “And I wonder if it goes too far.” “I've never recognized a purer face.” “You stopped me in my tracks and put me right in my place.” “Used to think that loving meant a painful chase.” “But you're right here now and I think you'll stay.”

alanis' interlude

“Bit my nails down so they wouldn't scratch.” “But who believes in needs like these?” “I'll take two of 'em, please.” “All these beautiful laughs and beautiful thighs.” “Your pussy is a wonderland.” “And I could be a better man.” “It doesn't matter to me.” “And I have never felt the difference.” “Bad news, think I'll probably die before I have you.”

killing boys

“Told me pick my battles and be picking 'em wise but I wanna pick 'em all and I don't want to decide.” “No more, no more, anymore.” “So we'll sneak in the back and then we'll kick in the door.” “Tell me have you ever keyed a Ferrari before?” “Oh no, oh I don't anymore.” “And I'm not breaking, I won't take it.” “And I won't ever feel this way again.” “'Cause you don't need me anymore.” “And I won't ever try again.” “All I want in return is revenge.” “Cause I don't need you anymore.” “So where do you go?”

SUGA's Interlude (I’m not going to use the translations of this one because I have no way of telling how accurate they are sorry.)

“I been trying all my life to separate the time in between the having it all and giving it up,.” “I wonder what's in store if I don't love it anymore.”

more

“They told me once nothing grows when a house ain't a home.” “Is it true, honestly?” “Wanna scream but what's the use?“ “I just can't take it no more.” “They told me it's useless.” “There's no hope in store.” “But somehow I just want you more.” “Wonder will we ever meet?“ “And would you know it right away how hard I tried to see your face?” “'Cause I still believe it won't be like before.” “And when you decide it's your time to arrive, I've loved you for all of my life.” “And nothing could stop me from giving a try. I've loved you for all of my life.” “Somehow I'll still love you more.”

still learning

“I should be living the dream.” “I got a paranoia in me.” “And you wouldn't believe everything that I've seen.” “I know that I've done some wrong but I'm trying to make it right.” “I know that I love you but I'm still learning to love myself.” “I go home and I got no self-esteem.”

929

“Well, who am I?” “Can't remember half the time that I've been alive.” “Don't meet your heroes, they're all fucking weirdos." “Because nobody loves you, they just try to fuck you.” “And who do you call when it's late at night?” “You gotta promise us that you won't die cause we need you.” “And it's just these things that I'm thinking for hours.” “I lost the love of my life to an ivory powder but then I realise that I'm no higher power.” “I wasn't in love then and I'm still not now and I'm so happy I figured that out.” “I've got a long way to go until self-preservation.” “Think my moral compass is on a vacation.” "I can't believe I still feed my fucking temptation.” “And I'm still looking for my salvation.” “And I'm a fucking liar.”

I'm Not Mad

“I'm not even mad anymore.” “I don't even want you back anymore.” “I don't remember what we had anymore.” “I hope your back aches and your knees hurt.” “I hope you think about me sleeping in your t-shirt.” “I hope your little brother turns out to be nothing like you.” “I hope that you hurt more than I do.” “And honestly I still wish you nothing but the best.” “I know that you're still self-obsessed.” “I hear the wicked get no rest but when you do I hope you'll dream of me.” “I don't even hope you die these days.” “I hope you live 'til eighty-five these days.” “I hope it's eating you alive these days.” “I've got a twenty dollar bill that says that you never ever ever gonna change.”

Wipe Your Tears

“Nothing's gonna hurt you, baby.” “Nothing's gonna make you cry.” “I'll be damned if I ever let another hand wipe your tears before they dry.” “Keep your friends close but this pretty girl closer.” “But she's so cold but the world is colder.” “Take her in my lap and I promise that I'll hold her.” “My bed is too big for only me.”

[dusky-dancing]

For the ask meme, can you do #17 and rikunami?

Thank you for the ask, anon! 

See this post for the full list!

I admit that I was a little nervous since I’d never written RikuNami before, but they are so fun to write! Hope you enjoy :)

Here’s #17, A Kiss to Distract

——————————————————————————————–

After helping the Radiant Garden Restoration Committee unlock more data from Cid’s computer, Riku had needed a breather. A quick detour before he headed back to the Land of Departure, nothing else. His heart led him to the same place it always had, and for the same reason. Next he knew, the warm sun and green forests that cradled Twilight Town greeted him on his descent.

For the first time, it hadn’t been Namine who greeted him off of the gummi ship, but Hayner, Pence and Olette who were eager to put him to work. 

So much for a breather.

The “work”, turned out, involved throwing Namine a party for her new birthday, the day that her heart was returned to her. Of course, the day had been the anniversary of many things, but they’d wanted to focus on the positive like the good friends they were.

The others had already been busy getting all of the decorations, and the three before him were in charge of handling all of the food. With smiles all-too suspicious, they’d volunteered him to keep Namine company for the next few hours while everyone else set up, and he’d agreed to the task almost embarrassingly quickly. For one, he’d have done anything to avoid being in a small space with several people again. And two, he’d just…wanted to see her. She’d been his whole reason for visiting the quaint town in the first place. 

Hayner had told him to have her back by six o’clock, but his tone had reflected that of a protective sibling as much as an eager party-planner.

He found her sipping tea alone outside of a cafe. Time always seemed to slow the moment her eyes found him, and this was no different. 

“Riku!” She stood and faced him. Neither of them were fully comfortable initiating or participating in things like hugs, but he felt content just being in her company. “Xion told me they had a surprise for me today, but I wasn’t expecting something this great,” she smiled. 

A lump formed in his throat, and something between a groan and a cough escaped. “Yeah,” he gave her a subdued smile, which he knew paled in comparison to the one he was receiving, “guess I’ll try not to disappoint.”

“Never,” she gestured down the street. “Join me for a walk?”

Yes, a walk. Anywhere that wasn’t near the usual spot. Or a gift store. Or anywhere that sells food. Shouldn’t be too hard. 

As he scaled up his singular task in his head, he realized she was still standing a few paces ahead of him and waiting for an answer. 

“Uh, yes,” he said and hastily joined her side. 

He’d never get tired of exploring Twilight Town. The real place was so much more lively than what Ansem the Wise had generated in his computer. Though his task of keeping her oblivious made it harder to just enjoy the colors of the town. 

When the gang had said they’d be around town gathering supplies, they hadn’t been kidding. Whether it was Axel and Isa with a giant banner that said “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, NAMINE”, Roxas and Xion trying party hats on each other, or Hayner and Olette picking out cupcakes, there had been spoilers around almost every corner. He swore they could teleport too. With how many times he had to quickly herd Namine out of view, he was surprised she never caught on. One thing he knew: he had to get her out of the main portion town. 

A brief train ride brought them to the appropriately named Sunset Terrace, and Riku immediately appreciated the lack of familiar faces.

“So,” he said as he walked, “it’s been a year since you moved here. How do you like it?”

“It feels like a home,” she folded her hands in front of her chest. “Thanks to the people here, the happy memories here far outweigh the sad ones.”

The sad memories, in which she was essentially held hostage for a second time, all while being belittled and dehumanized. Most of those memories he’d been a bystander for, and he wondered if being around him now caused her any pain by association. It was a miracle that she granted him any of her time at all. Perhaps returning to his rightful form again helped make their friendship possible, or perhaps she was just that kind.

Namine seemed to follow his thoughts. “You know,” she said, “with my time in the mansion, some parts were painful, but some were happy too.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm,” she nodded, “Atleast I wasn’t alone.”

He chuckled, “I would’ve hardly considered myself company.”

“You were struggling, but you were there.” She giggled, “In a way, we were both these strange beings overwhelmed with guilt, yet still determined to set things right.” She leaned and brushed a hand over his arm as she walked. “Thank you, Riku.”

He searched himself for reasons that he could possibly deserve a ‘thank you’, but came up empty. Why was he making this day about himself, anyways? And why was he making her recall painful memories? She certainly didn’t look unhappy, but he wanted her to remember the day - remember his company - fondly.

“Here, come with me.” Out of nowhere, she grabbed his hand and began running up Sunset Hill, turning him into a stumbling mess after her. 

 He’d been to the top of the hill before, but now he could fully take in the view. The town itself seemed to end while the rest of the world stretched out in an endless green forest.

“What do you think of the view?” She asked.

“It’s nice.” He kept the strong words to describe it, and even stronger words to describe how she looked, to himself. “I haven’t been here since-” he caught himself, hating that he seemed to fail at lighthearted conversation. 

“Since you let me go,” she smiled. 

“You’re giving me too much credit,” he chuckled. “It was the least I could’ve done.”

A commotion down the hill in the marketplace caught Riku’s attention. From where he stood, he could see that it was Pence struggling to carry a giant cake. He rolled his eyes, grateful that Namine’s back was turned to it. He played it cool and refrained from staring too long. It wasn’t difficult to keep his attention on her anyways.

Despite his efforts, the conversation kept coming back to their memories in Twilight Town. Maybe leaning into the topic would be better than forcing small talk. 

“It was a two-way street in the mansion, you know,” he said. “You helped me too.”

“I helped restore Sora’s memories,” she muttered, “but-”

“I don’t mean that,” he interrupted. “I thought I was…cursed. But when I saw you use your powers to restore Sora’s memories, it made me want to do more than just conquer the Darkness. It - you - inspired me to walk the road to dawn, even if it took a while,” He looked straight into her light blue eyes. “So, thank you, Namine.”

She hung her mouth open, as if she wanted to respond, but settled on one of her humble smiles.

“And on a less complicated level,” he added, “you’ve been there for me as a friend ever since,” he hung on the last word and left the sentence unfinished, both unable to and knowing she wouldn’t need him to. 

Being separated from his best friends weighed on him heavily over the past year. Even though he knew he and Kairi were working together to save Sora, and he couldn’t imagine what kind of loneliness she was going through, the events of a year ago had left him with no one to confide in. 

Well, no one but the woman in front of him. 

Her cheeks reddened, and her eyes reflected a deep empathy. If anyone knew how badly one needed friends, it was her. “It’s the least I could do.”

He’d thought his connection to Namine had only been through some combination of Kairi or his replica, but that delusion shattered the moment she’d placed her hand in his. In the tiny contact, there had been neither a familiar spark of an existing friendship, nor a drive to protect solely out of obligation.

No, there had been something more. He found himself coming to her for seemingly no reason, and she always made time for him amidst her new found family. Every strong face and misleading “I’m fine” from him had fallen apart under her gentle gaze. The more he thought of her, the more that the word “friend” failed to fully describe who she was to him.

A loud yelp echoed from where Pence was, and Riku didn’t have to look to know his attempt to carry too much had failed. An earsplitting clatter followed, along with many more gasps. 

Unfortunately, Namine hadn’t resisted the temptation to look. As she began turning around, time slowed, and Riku panicked internally. He had one job - don’t spoil the surprise for Namine - and her seeing Pence dropping a birthday cake was probably considered a mission failure. His mind ran through several excuses he could tell her, but none were convincing. 

There was one thing he could do to keep her focused on him; something he might just be mad enough to do. Before he could talk himself out of it, he mustered up all of the courage he possessed and took her face within his hands. This new touch along with the surprised look she was giving him was enough to turn his stomach into nothing but nerves, but there was no going back.

Next he knew, his lips were on hers in the gentlest, most inexperienced of kisses. Her lips were just as soft and warm as her heart, and he wished he could stop time to cherish it a little longer. Her hands came up to brush over his own and settle on his arms.

Kissing her was less like fireworks and more like finally breaching a surface he never knew existed. Everything, from breathing to smiling to jumping to crying, felt waves easier.

When he pulled away, her eyes stayed closed a moment longer before fluttering open. 

“Riku…” 

The way she breathed his name so fondly made him want to lean back in for more, but he waited. Waited for her to move first. To say something else.

Only she didn’t. She remained still, looking up at him with both surprise and tenderness. 

Guilt quickly pulled him back under the surface. He meant every second of kissing her, but how could he fumble something so earnest on a distraction? Had it only been a distraction, or was the distraction just an excuse to kiss her? Whatever it was, it had worked on both of them, because the commotion down the hill was the furthest thing from their minds now. 

“I’m sorry,” his hands fell from her face, to her shoulders, to her arms. Even her hands felt far more than he deserved to touch. “That was…selfish of me.”

Her hands caught his wrist as he tried to back away. When he dared to meet her eyes again, her expression hadn’t changed. She shook her head. “You deserve to be a little selfish sometimes.”

As she stepped closer, the distant clock tower chimed to signal half-an-hour until six. Walking back now would barely make them punctual, but hopefully Pence’s accident had afforded them a little more time.

It was then that Riku decided making her a little late to her own surprise party was worth taking the time to kiss her properly.

—————————————————————————

Thank you for reading! If I recall correctly, the Kingdom Hearts character files revealed that Namine goes to live with the Twilight Town gang after the events of KH3, which I thought was super sweet and everything she deserves. The sea-salt family just keeps growing, and I loved the idea of Namine joining their little found family. It was also really fun to think of all the things Riku admires about Namine, and in what circumstance he’d kiss her as a distraction.

This was my first RikuNami fic, so I hope you all enjoyed it:) 

[peepingtoad]

🍺 oops?

(very old) meme asks; {x} || @asaraltu​

🍺 - Get drunk and wake up completely naked cuddled up to my muse

It was deathly quiet when he woke up. 

That meant that whatever the hell had happened last night, he’d gotten smashed enough for the big guy to finally reach his limits and pass out. 

Impressive! 

Probably more impressive, however, was the fact that once his dark eyes fluttered unevenly open to gaze upon a dim scene of carnage he had absolutely no recollection of (not unusual in itself), it quickly became apparent that he was still absolutely wasted. There was definitely at least four of everything he saw, and there was no telling whether the world was tilting, or he was, or both—so he soon gave up on pushing himself up onto his elbows and rolled over with a gravelly groan…

… Which turned into a series of splutters and huffs as he was forced to rid his mouth of sudden… hair?

And an abundance thereof, no less. 

But more notable than that though, was the fact that his bare chest found itself pressed against an equally bare back, emanating warmth and expanding gently with each slow, soporous breath. Ohohoho, well fancy that! Looked like he'd bedded himself a gorgeous… (blindly and clumsily his hand groped, finding the slight curve of a hip, then traversing up the expanse of tacky flesh until, with an indulgent squeeze)… man!

With difficulty, Jiraiya forced his eyes open again, stuck shut as they were with the crumbling remnants of black kohl. The sticky residue of sweat he could feel coating him from head to foot also lent his unfamiliar partner a deliciously sleazy glow as he carefully coaxed him closer, rolling him onto his back, his head lolling towards him… which had his jaw going slack.

Well fuck… he’s gorgeous!

Greedily his eyes took the stranger in, multiple after-images and all, which perhaps enhanced what an absolute catch he’d somehow landed himself with. He was pretty damn sure this couldn’t just be a severe case of beer goggles, and as his gaze slid down the man’s supine form in all its lean beauty, so too did his hand follow, until the thin blanket that only just covered his modesty proved too strong a temptation to resist.

So he didn’t.

“Nice,” he mumbled out loud, nodding with approval.

There was, however, a niggling sense that there was something else he should be remembering here, something nebulous that was stirred into being as he peered shamelessly at that which was no longer hidden beneath the sheets in his grasp. Something about how the previous night started that made him think there was something very different about this guy, but…

Meh. Don’t care. Too drunk. 

Why trouble oneself over the details, besides, when there’s a perfectly good chest to lie on and a beautiful body to hold?

Hell, maybe when the guy woke up he’d even be up for another round!

[empaths-hsp]

10 Tips for Surviving an Outrage-Fueled Internet as a Highly Sensitive Person

Like it or not, we’re all in a long-term relationship with the internet. Here’s how to make it a peaceful one.

While the internet can seem like a dream come true, it’s also a big, scary digital world, and most of us can’t afford to go completely off-the-grid to avoid it. On the one hand, I personally love doing research and exploring new ideas — and the internet is like an endless buffet for doing exactly that. It feeds my mind, and since I’m a journalist, I use it often when I’m hunting for new sources or digging up truths.

But as a highly sensitive person, the internet can also be… overwhelming. Exhausting, even. Highly sensitive people (HSPs) are the twenty percent of the population who process information very deeply — which makes us both insightful and empathetic, but also easily overstimulated. As an HSP myself, there are days when I want nothing more than to chuck my phone and computer into a river and run away to a cabin in the woods, where the WiFi signal won’t be strong enough to load Wikipedia or Gmail even if I hadn’t gotten rid of all my devices. 

Escaping the hustle and bustle of modernity might be a common daydream for HSPs, but it’s not a practical one. Most of us need to go online for work, to stay connected with loved ones, and do basic things like banking and grocery shopping. 

10 Ways I Survive the Internet as an HSP

1. Know where to find “feed-your-soul” content — and go to it regularly.

Sometimes, even with the best intentions, you can wind up feeling completely burnt out just by spending a few hours online. When that happens, I like to turn to my collection of  pick-me-ups. Sometimes, that’s visiting YouTube for inspirational videos, like the pep talk from Kid President (an oldie but goodie). Other times, I might look at the work of some of my favorite cartoonists, like Sarah Scribbles or XKCD. Similarly, everyone has different taste in art, so take some time to find work that feels like a warm blanket. Have this “comfort food” bookmarked or saved somewhere, whether on a playlist or in a folder, so you can quickly turn to it when the internet — especially news — is just too much to handle.

2. Make sure your music is working for you, too.

I love listening to music while I work, but sometimes even my favorite albums can feel overwhelming when combined with everything else that’s happening on my screen. When I need a little more mental space to process whatever I’m reading, I turn to nature sounds or white noise tracks. My favorite is the Spotify playlist “Birds in the Forest.” It’s incredibly soothing and helps me concentrate when my attention feels scattered. (You can also try this HSP playlist curated by a fellow highly sensitive person!)

3. Turn down the lights — or your screen’s brightness.

Since we HSPs are sensitive to any stimuli, that includes the level of light our eyes are taking in. Computer and phone screens are perpetually glowing beacons, and plenty of people have written about how that blue light can throw off our circadian rhythm before bed. But it can also be hard on your eyes to look at a bright screen with small font all day. 

If you need the internet for work, try using apps like QuickShade to further refine the brightness of your computer screen. And if at all possible, stop looking at screens at least half an hour before bedtime! But if you must, make sure your screens are in night mode. These days, a lot of devices have dark mode capabilities and it’ll take you just a few minutes to adjust them. If you’re an Android person, you can also download an app like Dark Mode, and if you’re more an Apple person, you can try an app like NeuralCam NightMode.

4. Limit time on social media (and avoid doom-scrolling)…

We’ve all been there: one minute you’re checking Twitter for the latest news updates or to find something interesting to read, and the next thing you know, it’s been half an hour and you’re feeling shaky with the deluge of information. And it’s not just Twitter that pulls us into this endless vortex: it can happen on other social media platforms, on Reddit, and even on news websites. Yes, you’ve been trapped into doom-scrolling. 

The internet — and especially social media — is designed to suck you in. Once you know that, you can plan strategies for protecting your time and energy. Set a timer whenever you go on social media and don’t let yourself stay there for longer than that time. Or, if your willpower isn’t strong enough, you can install browser extensions that block certain websites after you’ve been on them for too long — check out Limit for Google Chrome and FocusMe for an app that works across browsers and devices. 

5. …But when you do go social media, make it meaningful.

Of course, social media isn’t inherently a bad thing: It can be a great way to stay in touch with friends, learn about new job opportunities, or simply socialize when you aren’t leaving the house. To get the most out of social media, invest in real relationships — use WhatsApp or Facebook Messenger to ask friends about their day or share memes or GIFs. Or, curate your Twitter account so that it shows a variety of perspectives and voices that you’re interested in hearing. For myself, I look for specific hashtags so that I can easily follow scientists, writers, and people in the chronically ill community. It has made my Twitter scrolling a lot less unpleasant. 

6. Be intentional with how much you share.

We’ve all heard it before, but it is largely true: The internet is forever. And as much as we may want to assume people are acting with the best intentions, that’s just not true of everyone. “Mobs” form quickly, and just about anyone can end up being doxed or harassed. So be mindful of what you’re putting online. Share only as much of yourself as you are comfortable with strangers knowing. It can be a wonderful experience to have an intimate connection with someone you’ve never met in person, but make sure those conversations happen privately. 

Like what you’re reading? Get our newsletter just for HSPs. One email, every Friday. Subscribe here.

7. Understand your capacity for news media and set boundaries.

Similarly to setting boundaries in how much you reveal about your personal life, you also need to understand your mental and emotional capacity for news, be it sad, dark, or uplifting. Because HSPs feel everything so deeply, even an innocuous story about the things scientists still don’t understand about pregnancy can lead to overstimulation (yes, this has happened to me). Once our brains get revved up, it can be very hard to calm them down. 

To protect myself from being emotionally overwhelmed by bad news or overstimulated by some exciting bit of research, I try not to read any news after 5 p.m. I also limit how much I read about particularly dark subjects, the coronavirus pandemic being one prime example. I do want to be informed, but I stick to things like daily newsletters rather than reading every single piece of news I come across. 

8. Take breaks.

This sounds obvious, though it can be hard to put into practice. But no matter what you’re doing online, whether it’s for work or for fun, be sure to spend some time away from your screen: go on a walk, play with your pet, play a board game, simply sit and stretch — the options are endless. You just need to be sure that you have those options in place so you don’t end up spending hours mindlessly going from one tab to the next online.

Need an extra-restorative break? Try a little time forest bathing.

9. Build “phone-free zones” in your life.

Smartphones are great in many ways, but they also mean you’re carrying a little computer with you wherever you go, which makes the temptation to hop online almost impossible to resist. At the park and see a cute dog? Post a picture to Instagram! Spending time with friends and you can’t remember the last movie some celebrity was in? Hop on Google! 

We’ve all done it, but that doesn’t mean we can’t break that permanent connection we seem to have with our phones. Create phone-free zones in your home and life. Maybe it’s a no-phones-in-the-bedroom rule, or no-phones-after-a-certain-time-of-night. Since the internet is built to make us reliant on it, we are the ones who have to set rules and boundaries for when it is allowed to engage us.

10. Acknowledge and embrace the internet’s limitations. 

In a lot of ways, the internet can be a sanctuary for HSPs: We are in control of the sites we visit, the time we spend on them, and the amount of information we absorb. It’s easy to think that if we curate our online experience perfectly, we’ll be in a safe bubble where we don’t have to deal with other people’s emotions. However…

That doesn’t mean being online is a substitute for life offline — we still need in-person experiences, whether it’s walking through a forest or having (socially distanced) dinner with friends. That’s just part of human psychology.

So it’s important to understand what the internet gives you, and what it doesn’t, as well as to understand how it can both help and harm you. The more you know about your relationship with the internet, the better you’ll be able to navigate it. 

You Might Like:

News Overload Is Real. Here’s How It Affects Highly Sensitive People.

This Is What Overstimulation Feels Like for HSPs

7 ‘Rules’ for Highly Sensitive People to Protect Their Energy

The post 10 Tips for Surviving an Outrage-Fueled Internet as a Highly Sensitive Person appeared first on Highly Sensitive Refuge.

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[dabistits]

thank you for your answer! i think my most pressing question is at what point am i trying to salvage a bigoted mess that isn't worth "promoting" by creating AUs for it. if a piece of media has potential but the author is too much of a centrist to ever fully realize it and ends up promoting a lot of things i really disagree with, is it fair for me to create different scenarios and tell other people "yeah, this piece of media is a bad take but it could have been like this instead"

I know tumblr makes a big deal out of no-platforming certain creations and creators, and this is a legitimate strategy and one that I agree should be applied at the very least, no exception, to TERFs and fascists and people who are legitimately bigoted. I think there’s a strong argument to be made for no-platforming certain exploitative creations, such as KS, and exploitative fanworks.

But.

1) for all the mess that BNHA is, I don’t think it’s equivalent to KS, and

2) what is “promotion,” even, really?

“Promotion,” when it comes to these discussions, I think usually refers to introducing a creator or creation to someone who didn’t know about them in the first place. This is actively dangerous when it comes to bigotry, and it’s part of TERF and fascist strategy to post ‘reasonable’ ideas (ex: about feminism) or innocent-sounding memes in hopes of drawing the ‘uninitiated’ back to their blogs or forums to ‘convert’ them (as an aside: I think pro-fetishizing fandom types do this as well, to be honest, and they do it by portraying their concerns as ones of free speech or misogyny so that people who aren’t aware of the root of the issue are easily led into agreeing with them). On this basis, people who have bigoted opinions should be no-platformed so their ideas can’t be spread.

I don’t think fandom participation is this insidious though. People make fanwork because they transparently enjoy a canon, not because they’re necessarily trying to insidiously “promote” it. Of course, there’s still a snowball effect where the more people are talking about a canon, the more buzz it gets, and the more people check it out, which makes buzz an important thing for small or new canons (but rarely is this contingent on one person only, and especially not if that person only has a small following). With BNHA specifically? It’s already huge. One person doing anything for it is a snowflake in a blizzard, and if anyone is checking out your fanart or fanfic, it’s incredibly likely that they’ve already heard about or are already into BNHA. Is it really fair to yourself to, uh, think about writing AU fanfic as you proselytizing to non-BNHA fans somehow, rather than you seeing better ways to do BNHA and sharing it with other fans? Rather than you writing something for the sake of your own catharsis?

As I said in my previous answer, there are still a lot of ways for you to decide how you participate. When I mentioned “AUs and dumb headcanons,” it was really just a group of my friends on a fairly insular forum and group chat, fairly self-contained. Even though we were fans of a ‘problematic’ canon, I wasn’t all that worried about “promoting” it, because it was a small group of people who I trusted could be respectful and critical, and other than that, we were just doing our own thing, having pretty much zero impact on anyone outside of us. You could say that liking this canon means we have questionable tastes (and that’s fair lol), but it’d be pretty hard to argue that we were promoting it, rather than just... adapting the canon into something we could semi-privately enjoy together.

Now, I’m running a BNHA blog with a few hundred followers. I guess that could count as "promoting” BNHA (though most of the people who found me were already BNHA fans in the first place), but I’m personally quite comfortable with that. I like to think, and I hope lol, that even though I’m giving BNHA a platform, I’m also giving platform to myself and my critiques. I’m unlikely to prevent people from reading BNHA by deleting this blog, but by continuing to run it I’m much more likely to engage people to think critically about the way the narrative treats issues like sexual assault, and abuse, and criminality. I hope I don’t reach the point where I’m hate-blogging about BNHA, but at this specific point in time, I’m happy with talking about the things I like and hope for, in addition to the places where I think it fucks up.

That’s all to say that you really do have options. If you can’t stand to think that you’re “promoting” it? Maybe just talk about it with a group of friends or a server, rather than posting about it. If you want to post about it, but don’t want to feel like you’re ‘justifying’ it? Maybe reblog more critical posts, or write your own.

While I agree with many of the posts on tumblr that say we should probably distance ourselves from some creators and creations—and the worse their issues are, the more all-consuming their issues are, the more relevant this position is—I also think there’s some leeway for people to say “this canon is bad, and I acknowledge its flaws, but there are parts of it I still really like.” Yes, while liking certain creators and creations will make you highly questionable and untrustworthy, we also have to resist the temptation to inextricably link our morals to our consumption (I mean this both about media consumption and the consumption of material goods), because “there’s no ethical consumption, etc.” and also because there’s no work without flaws. Being hypercritical toward ourselves for having imperfect tastes in an imperfect society will just make us obsessive with hypervigilance, tirelessly questioning ourselves and our motives like we’re waiting for ourselves to fuck up, and that’s not a healthy way to treat our own being.

(If you read the above and were like, “no, I’m capable of enjoying things without overinvesting in the perfection of its morals, there’s just something about BNHA that ticks me off,” then, good, it doesn’t apply to you. I thought I’d mention it in case this is a recurring issue.)

The final thing I have to reiterate is: if you’re grasping for reasons to stay, and ways to interact with BNHA that don’t impinge on your values, then this is my insight. If you’re grasping for reasons to go, then go! You don’t need my permission nor my insight to say “this canon makes me so uncomfortable that I don’t think I can interact with it happily anymore.” If you think leaving BNHA behind is for the better for yourself, if it will give you more peace of mind to do so, then you probably already know your decision.

[blightmantra]

@dlishmagi​ said: surprise kiss !

       seeing sights and beauties of the world that only few had ever laid eyes on were some of the things she would forever thank taeros for, an opportunity of a lifetime. while many of his companions would find long trips to places like the forbidden oasis unbearable and overly lengthy, it was a magical experience for someone like symphony as she got to explore everything orlais had to offer.

       the oasis itself was a magical experience in of itself, given all the hyenas and demons were cleared out. once that was all said and done however, it gave them all the time in the world to appreciate the desert’s beauty. as the party rested, symphony excused herself in order to explore on her own, now that it was safe enough to do so.

       not wanting to risk running into any more hyenas, she instead followed the nugs’ stumbling trots until it lead her to a peaceful waterfall not too far from where their camp was. she could very much vividly imagine how the roaring of the running waters would echo across the desert and attract all kinds of creatures to drink what it had to offer. beautiful greenery blossomed around the shallow lake. it was truly a marvelous place, a place she could imagine losing herself in.

       allowing herself to be drowned in the breathtaking sight, she could not hear or sense that she had been followed. 

      ‘ tae...?! ’ she let out a loud gasp when she felt strong arms wrap around her waist and spin her around. ‘ where did you come from? ’ she squealed out a laughter. ‘ you scared me! ’

      once he allowed her to stand on her feet again, she spun around with the intention of scolding him only to have his lips stop her in the middle of her tracks. he swallowed her gasp and just like that her heart felt as though it would burst out of her chest. she was overwhelmed with a sense of helplessness whenever she was in his arms, like her heart was at his mercy. his kisses were always enough to shatter her world, and send her soaring.

       she pulled away after a few blissful seconds, letting her arms snake around his neck. ‘ i don’t like it when you scare me, ’ she scolded him, pulling him closer until she could feel his breath on hers. eyes never left his lips, not to read but to fight back the temptation to lean in for another kiss.

       ‘ my love, ’ she finally looked up into his eyes. ‘ i want a nug. ’

|| kissing meme prompts

[jewish-privilege]

...My weary tone doesn’t mean I’m not upset by [John] Cusack’s actions. The meme he shared is indeed unambiguously antisemitic: An image of a Jewish hand, marked by the star of David, crushing the people, accompanied by the quote, “To learn who rules over you simply find out who you are not allowed to criticize” — erroneously attributed to Voltaire, but actually from a neo-Nazi called Kevin Alfred Strom. Cusack added his own gloss, a glibly hateful “Follow the money.”

This was all bad enough. But in some respects, it was his confused attempts to atone that frustrate me most. He first defended the tweet, citing Israel’s “atrocities against the Palestinians,” then conceded that “even if you don’t have an anti-Semitic bone in your body, it is still an antisemitic cartoon”. He then explained that he initially thought the start of David signified Israel. Now he understands that yadda, yadda, yadda. He never did address the “Follow the money” quip.

My frustration is partly because, given the incessant controversy over anti-Semitism, it’s extraordinary that anyone can claim ignorance anymore. Was Cusack asleep during the firestorm surrounding Ilhan Omar’s “All about the Benjamin’s” comment? I’m also frustrated because the implication of his apology was that, had there been a symbol that could signify Israel without implying Jews, it would have been fine. I say this not as a defender of Israel, but as someone who believes that the Palestinians are being oppressed not by a world-conquering venal conspiracy, but by regular human beings.

...It’s the easiness of social media that is our downfall. Did John Cusack ponder his post for hours until he got it just right? Almost certainly not: I would guess that he was in the queue for the dry cleaners, sitting on the toilet, or half-watching TV when he lazily pushed the button.

None of that means that there wasn’t something real behind his desire to post. Anger on behalf the Palestinian people is of course not, in and of itself, illegitimate or anti-Semitic. Cusack may have been moved by very real suffering.

But what is truly poisonous about social media is that it provides a constant temptation to respond to genuine concerns in a facile way. Too often, we are drawn into a simplistic logic: I am angry about something, I want to address the cause of that anger, I will express my anger in the strongest possible terms, I will hate, I will draw on the most convenient way of expressing that hate.

And in the case of Israel-Palestine, anti-Semitism offers the most convenient form of hatred.

I don’t think we really know how to respond to convenience anti-Semitism of the Cusack-variety. Too often, Jews are working with an implicitly essentialist model of anti-Semitism in which a particular anti-Semitic incident is evidence of a wider world view that is implicitly or explicitly anti-Semitic. But what if there is no world view at all? What if all that exists are the lazy pleasures of hating, generated by equally lazy forms of empathy?

...John Cusack’s tweet didn’t help the Palestinian cause and it didn’t stop him from ruining his reputation.

What we desperately need right now is a collective effort to try and nurture a more reflective, less convenient, online discourse. This is probably a generational project and it’s difficult to know where to start. Still, it’s worth considering how, when we call anti-Semitism out online, we can refrain from the lazy hatred that Cusack expressed.

Might a patient, clear and calm explanation of where Cusack went from work better than mass derision and anger? One challenge here is that even those tweets that are carefully expressed can, if joined by many others, create a cumulative effect that ends up looking like a hate campaign — so-called “dogpiling.” I spent a portion of yesterday being accused by one tweeter of doing just that, despite trying (sometimes successfully) for years to be as civil as I am able. It may be that online restraint, posting only when one has something new and different to say, is the model to follow.

Restraint is not a fashionable virtue these days. Perhaps though a counter-cultural emphasis on not saying immediately what is on your mind could popularize the practice. Even then though, for a film star with declining name-recognition, the desire to be heard and state that “I am still here” may be too strong to resist.

[romantichopelessly]

Kiss Meme: 1 + Late

Kiss Prompts ((CLOSED))

Nate adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time as he waited for someone to answer his knock. It had only been a few seconds, but tonight, Nate wasn’t feeling like his usual, laidback self. Each passing second felt like an hour.

“Well, hi there, Nate! Only four minutes late! Either you channeled your inner Turbo the Snail, or Lo sure did overestimate this time!”

Nate’s head snapped up to meet Dr. Picani’s eyes as the door swung open before him, his surprise melting into a fond smile as the therapist spoke.

“Nah, it’s good, Dr. P! I could never blame Mr. Punctual for me not being as late as usual.” Nate rolled his shoulders, trying to forget just how heavy this borrowed suit jacket was compared to his normal leather one.

Dr. Picani chuckled, opening the door wider and motioning for Nate to come into the house. Nate smiled politely and took the invitation, stepping into the front hallway, already glancing up the just visible stairway for any sign of his boyfriend.

“Don’t worry yourself, Nate, Lo will be down in just a few minutes, I’m sure. He’s probably already hurrying so that I don’t embarrass him too much.” Dr. Picani chuckled, shutting the door behind them.“He’s got the right idea, Emmy.” Nate pulled his gaze from the stairs as Logan’s other dad, Remy, peaked his head out of the kitchen. “Hey, kid.” Remy nodded in greeting. “You clean up nice.”

Nate grinned, straightening his spine and nodding back in the direction of Logan’s dad. “Thank you, sir.”

Remy grimaced. “I told you not to call me that.”

Nate was just opening his mouth to reply when someone cleared their throat from the top of the stairs.

“Nathan, please do not antagonize my father.”

Nate didn’t think that he had ever whipped his head around as quickly as he did in that moment, his eyes lighting up at the sight of his boyfriend in prom attire. Logan always dressed smart, but Nate had to hold himself back from sweeping his nerd off of his feet at the sight of him in that deep blue vest and silver and black tie.

As soon as Logan reached the bottom of the stairs, Nate was reaching out and taking his hand and placing a soft kiss on the back of his knuckles, completely unable to resist temptation. Sure, Nate was strong, but no one was that strong. “You ready to dash, babe?”

Nate reveled in the light pink that dusted Logan’s cheeks at the words.

“I… Yes, I suppose that I am.” Logan’s voice was soft and much less authoritative as usual. His hand twisted in Nate’s grip, lacing their fingers together.

A snap sounded from behind the two teens, followed by a high pitched cooing noise. Nate was relatively sure that he heard Dr. Picani whispering something about being happier than when Isabella and Phineas finally got together.

Nate was barely able to make it through the following rounds of pictures and curfew discussions. Every passing second made Logan just that much more irresistible, and Nate had absolutely no idea how he was going to make it through an entire night like this.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Logan and Nate were saying their goodbyes to Dr. and Mr. Picani and making their way down the walkway towards Logan’s car. Nate was still slightly bitter that Logan had said no to the two of them taking his bike to prom, but any thoughts of complaints flew right out of the rebels mind as Logan turned around and pulled him by his tie into a heated kiss.

Immediately, he relaxed into the touch, a muffled hum of appreciation leaving his lips that were still firmly against Logan’s. In response to the relaxed posture, Logan’s grip on his tie loosened, moving to smooth over the silky material as Nate’s own hands moved up to tangle in dark locks.

After a few heated seconds, Nate pulled back, just enough to breathe, but not so much that he could truly see Logan’s face.

“What was that for, baby?”

A soft puff of air met Nate’s lips. Logan’s laugh. His heart lurched in his chest. “You look… spectacular in a necktie, my dear.”

Nate laughed loudly, burying his face in the crook of Logan’s neck. He felt the other teen’s chest rumble with a matching chuckle against his. “Me? Are you kidding?”

“Certainly not.” Nate felt deft fingers card through the hair at the back of his head.

“We’re gonna be late.” Nate joked, smiling against Logan’s skin when the other boy giggled in response. Actually giggled.

“So? Only Virgil and Patton would miss us. I highly doubt that Roman and Ezra will even make it to the school.”

Nate snorted. “I’m not complaining. More free time with my hot as hell genius.”

Suddenly, the front porch lights behind them flashed on, and the reality that they were still in Logan’s front lawn came crashing down.

“On the other hand, we may want to get going, babe.”

[sanderssidesfanfiction]

We’ll Carry On - Chapter Fifty

We’ll Carry On Tag

General Content Warnings: Sympathetic Deceit Sanders, Substance Abuse, Abandonment, Minor Character Death, Transphobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Dissociation, Bullying, Homophobia

July 13th, 2018

Roman didn’t understand. There was a woman walking down the street, and people were laughing and jeering at her. She had a bit of a five o’clock shadow, and her jaw was a little more square than most women, but she was wearing a dress and she had breasts, so she had to be a woman, right?

He didn’t say anything as she passed him, but he smiled kindly at her and mouthed, “You’re beautiful.”

She lit up like he had just hung the moon and signed something, that Roman thought was a “Thank you.”

“Roman!” the horrible woman shouted. “Don’t socialize with those types! You will not be that in my house!”

Roman cringed, but he stood by his words. He thought the woman was truly beautiful.

June 16th, 2020

Roman was excited. Some might say a little too excited, but no one could really blame him. He was going through his freshman orientation at the local high school, and had signed up for all his classes, making sure to pick Drama as one of his class choices. As his backup, he had put Drawing and Pottery, because both of those could be pretty cool, too, but he really hoped he got to have Drama as his art course.

The high school was a big place, but right now, he was just eating lunch with Chad and a few of the kids they had gotten to go on a tour of the buildings with. All of them were talking about what classes they wanted to take and clubs they wanted to join with wide eyes. Roman knew he had a bit of the excitement bug too, but his was curbed somewhat. “Trust me, guys, it seems cool now but there’s gonna come a day where you can’t wait for summer break,” Roman said. “Logan insists that he’s ready for winter break by October.”

“Your older brother is hardly a paragon of knowledge,” one of the girls, Ellie, snorted.

“True, but he’s going to be a senior next year, so I think he knows what he’s talking about,” Roman said. “Anecdotally speaking.”

“Mm, I agree with Roman,” one of the boys, Rocky, said. “My older sister can’t stand going to high school by November.”

“Wait, is your brother Logan Picani?” a third kid, a girl by the name of Maria, asked.

“Yes? Do you know him?” Roman asked. Suddenly he felt like he needed to be on guard and he didn’t know why.

“My older brother knows her. She’s the transsexual that was in his calc class,” Maria said. She wrinkled her nose. “Personally, I don’t understand why anyone would make that sort of life choice.”

Roman blinked once. Twice. Saw red for a couple seconds. Took a deep breath. Laughed with ice and venom blending together in his voice. “Okay, first of all, he is transgender, not transsexual. Transsexual is an outdated term that many people in the community find offensive, from what I’ve been told. Second of all, being transgender is not a choice. He wanted to be true to himself and because his parents disagreed, he was kicked out. So my dads adopted him. Being transgender isn’t easy. It brings all sorts of unwanted attention, and Logan has told me that if he had the chance to be cis, with either gender on the binary, he would take it.

“He gets all sorts of rude comments, from people who are close-minded bigots like your brother. And if you point me in the direction of your brother, I’d love to knock some common sense and LGBT terminology into his head. Especially considering that I’m bi and would like to be respected that way. So, let’s see: my dads are a gay couple, my older brother’s trans and queer, I’m bi, one of my younger siblings is nonbinary. Is there anything else I can say about my family that would disgust you into leaving this group and never calling my brother a transsexual again?”

Maria stared at him, shock and disgust warring for control on her face. “How could you possibly encourage that sort of thing?! Don’t you know you can go to Hell for that?”

“Provided that even is true, which I severely doubt, Hell will be fabulous and I will happily live with my brothers, my sibling, and my two dads there for all eternity. But if you can go to Hell for being gay, why would a higher power even make gay people? Huh? Riddle me that!”

“It’s obviously a test,” Maria snapped back. “Proving that you’re strong in your faith, and you won’t give in to the temptation of sexual desires!”

Roman blinked. “Wow. I...just...wow. I feel really sorry for you, Maria. Your parents must be real pieces of work for you to believe that.”

Maria huffed and crossed her arms. “Whatever. I don’t approve of your choices, but we can still be friends. Love the sinner and hate the sin.”

“Uh, no, we can’t be friends, because the ‘sin’ you’re hating is literally a piece of me. Frankly, if you believe all that BS that you just spouted, I wouldn’t want to be friends with you anyway. That’s just wrong on so many levels.”

Maria growled, grabbed her lunch, and stood. “Well, then. I hope you enjoy Hell, because that’s where you’re going!”

“God is dead, and the gays killed Him!” Chad hollered after her back, laughing.

“Oof, I’m glad we avoided that one early,” Ellie said.

“Yeah,” Roman agreed. “Honestly, I don’t think that Hell...is a place? Exactly? And you certainly don’t go there for loving someone who’s the same gender as you.”

Murmured agreement came from the whole group. “What does nonbinary mean?” Rocky asked.

“Oh, it just means you don’t feel like you’re a boy or a girl,” Roman said, returning to his lunch.

There was a beat of silence before Rocky asked, “There’s a word for that?!”

“Yes...?” Roman asked. “Do you feel like that fits you?”

“Yeah, a little!” Rocky agreed. “I always felt like...kind of a boy, kind of not? It’s confusing. But I don’t have to be a boy, I can be nonbinary!”

“Yeah! Look up nonbinary stuff online, you’ll learn a bunch, and you might find a more specific label that you like,” Roman encouraged.

Rocky pulled out his phone with a grin and Chad laughed. “Well, today is a day full of discoveries, huh?” he asked. “I think I see my parents pulling up, though, so I’ll have to say goodbye for now. I’ll see you guys around this summer, and at school in September!”

“Yeah, see you!” Roman said, as everyone else bid Chad goodbye, too.

Soon after, Roman saw Logan pull up in the school parking lot, and get out of the car. Unfortunately, Maria was walking over to a car two spaces down, and a guy who looked like he could be a linebacker for the football team was waiting for her. Roman said his goodbye’s quickly and jogged over to Logan. “Hey, man, let’s get out of here,” Roman hissed. “That girl with the freckles? Massive transphobe, and her brother—”

“I’m well aware of who her brother is,” Logan said coolly. “Jeremy has seen fit to torment me ever since I legally got my name changed. Insists on using it only because it’s what’s on my papers, but claims that because I’m still ‘Female’ on my birth certificate-which he doesn’t even know for sure-that he can use ‘she’ and ‘her’ for me. He’s a brat.”

Roman pulled a face. “Gross.”

“Indeed,” Logan said.

Maria caught a glimpse of them and stalked over, her brother following behind. “He’s the one! He’s the one who said that I’m wrong!”

“Well, yeah, you are wrong,” Roman said. “I’m not going to Hell. Even if I were, I would be happy to go.”

“Should have known he was the brother of the tranny, here,” Jeremy sneered.

Roman scowled and balled his hands into fists, sucker-punching Jeremy hard right below the ribcage. Jeremy crumpled inward, gasping for air. “Don���t call my brother that word ever again!” Roman bellowed. “C’mon, Lo. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

“No complaints from me,” Logan said. They both got in the car and drove away. Once they were on the road, Logan said, “You realize Dad and Ami are probably going to get a very angry call from either that idiot’s mother or someone from the school?”

“Eh,” Roman said with a shrug. “Worth it.”

“I certainly hope so,” Logan sighed, “Because you just put a giant target on your back.”

Roman shrugged again. “I’m not going to stand by while you get insulted, Logan.”

“You sound just like Jack,” Logan said with an eye-roll. “It’s annoying. Cute, in a way, but definitely annoying.”

Roman gave Logan a grin. “That’s a high compliment you know. Sounding like your boyfriend.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Logan said, shaking his head and smirking.

“Oh, so I guess I should tell your boyfriend your highly-esteemed opinion of him?” Roman asked, snatching Logan’s phone from the cupholder it had been residing in.

“Roman!” Logan shrieked indignantly, using one hand to blindly grab for his phone even as he kept his eyes on the road. “Give me that!”

Roman gleefully held it out of Logan’s reach as he dictated what he was typing. “Hey Jack...Roman here. Your boyfriend thinks that comparing someone to you...isn’t...a...compliment! Ha!”

“Give it back!” Logan exclaimed, lunging for the phone and yanking it free of Roman’s grasp, at the price of nearly swerving off the road.

“Too late, it’s already sent!” Roman exclaimed.

Logan locked his phone and dropped it back in the cupholder. “I hate you.”

Roman laughed unapologetically. “This is Jack, Lo. I doubt he’d break up with you over that. If anything, he’ll probably just respond with a ‘mood’ and be done with it.”

“I’m not worried about me, I’m worried about you,” Logan said.

As if on cue, Roman got three text alert messages in a row, and he could see they were all from Jack. More kept coming, and he arched his eyebrows. “How many texts is Jack going to send?”

“Probably around fifty,” Logan said casually. “Most of them about stealing my phone to send text messages, a couple calling you a snitch, some memes, at least one asking if I’m driving and that’s how you got to send the text, and the final two will probably be a ‘thank you for telling me’ and ‘but mood.’”

Roman watched his text count go up and his blood pressure with it. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered.

“This is Jack,” Logan said with a laugh. “It’s how he is always.”

“Doesn’t that get exhausting?” Roman asked.

“Well, he’s always tired, but I doubt that’s the reason,” Logan said. “If that’s the only life you ever know, and the only attitude you’ve ever had, I doubt it would be as exhausting as it is to you now.”

Roman made a huh noise. “Don’t you ever get overstimulated talking to him?”

Logan glanced at Roman. “I mean, sometimes, I guess. But not usually. I’ve gotten used to his energy, as it’s grown as both of us grew. To me, he has the same energy levels as he did when we were in kindergarten and he asked if he could call me ‘Jessie.’”

“Did you slug him for that?” Roman asked.

“Well I didn’t know I was trans yet,” Logan said. “So I wouldn’t have punched him over that. I just really hated the nickname. Though I don’t think I punched him for it. Because he asked once and then never again. Apparently I looked completely disgusted at the thought of being called that.”

Roman got quiet, all of his current questions answered. A thought occurred to him, along with a new question. “Do you think of yourself as...you know...your deadname, when you think back into the past?”

Logan hummed. “You know, I try not to, but when I think back to before I realized I was trans, I almost always think of myself as either ‘Jessica’ or ‘pre-Logan.’ I know most trans people eventually adjust and they say, ‘When I was a little boy,’ or ‘This is a picture of a tiny whatever-their-name-is.’ I haven’t made that adjustment. I’m not sure I’m ever going to, at this point.”

“That’s fair,” Roman said. “I don’t ever think of you as...as that, but—”

“Roman, you can say it. You can say Jessica, it’s not a dirty word,” Logan said. “So long as you don’t call me by that as if it were still my name, you can use it around me. It took me a while to distance myself from it, but now I can hear the name without flinching. You don’t ever think of me as Jessica. Just the sentiment behind that means I trust you to use that name, just never on me.”

“Yeah. I don’t ever think of you as Jessica, but it’s weird seeing traditionally feminine clothing on you. Jack showed me some old yearbooks, and I nearly got whiplash,” Roman said. “And I’ll always use Logan when referring to you, even as a little kid. Because the whole, ‘back when he was a she’ or ‘when current name was deadname’ thing is just scummy, especially if you don’t have permission to out that person.”

Logan smiled. “You’re one of the good ones, Roman. Thank you. Would you be willing to go to the GSA next year?”

“Definitely,” Roman said, nodding. “Especially because you’re Vice President.”