#to try and tell people to go against their morals and do something that they know ain’t right to them

[area51-escapee]

I really, really hate the fact that people are using minorities within the U.S. to try and guilt people into voting for Biden. I hate that when you criticize him or just state you won’t vote for him people always want to come back with “oh so you hate minorities? You hate transgender people? You think kids belong in cages?????”. Don’t you fucking dare use the suffering of actual people to try and garner support for that man, you don’t get to just ignore that immigrants are still being detained at the border, that he decided to continue with the fucking wall, that immigrants, even U.S. born Latinos are still being treated as fucking criminals. You don’t get to ignore that he’s done nothing to protect the transgender community from absolutely vile transphobic laws, you don’t get to ignore the suffering of these communities until it’s suddenly convenient for you. Police brutality has only gotten worse, nobody can afford to fucking live, Covid is still killing and disabling people every fucking day, you can’t just ignore these things because Biden is president. Nobody thinks Trump is going to be “better”, but we recognize that Biden is fucking wretched both domestically and internationally, we recognize that things are already so fucking bad it’s going to be real hard to make anything worse, sometimes it feels like the only thing that’ll end up changing if Trump wins the election is that you fuckers will suddenly speak up about all these issues again just because you can blame it solely on Trump now.

[freakalot]

gojo hates condoms ☆

not even in an ‘i can’t feel a thing’ frat-fuck way either. he just wants to be close to you. he’s touch starved as it is and being inside of you is quite literally the closet he can be to you. why would he want a barrier between his achy length and your silken walls?

he hates condoms. hates them like they’re pointing south on his moral compass. hates them like they hurt to use—which they do, in a way—the mental anguish feels real to him, at least. he picks up a fuss in the grocery store when you pull a pack of ribbed condoms from the shelf to try because why would you seek pleasure from artificial ridges when the protruding veins of his cock would feel just as good if not dressed in a condom?

sometimes he eats you out for twice as long as usual to get you really fucked out and dumb. he’ll make you cum hard and fast and so much that your mind is a mess in the hopes that you’ll forget all about your safety precautions and let him feel you from the inside out. but you always catch on. with a tsk and a finger pointed to the draw where he keeps the horrid things out of sight.

so when you let him fuck you raw for the first time, gojo is reeling. it’s on the condition that he promises to pull out, and promise he does—with a pinky finger hooked around yours and his lips to his thumb—he promises to pull out.

he decides on missionary, because as much as he loves the hundred different positions he knows how to wrangle you into, he wants to connect with you. to make love, not fuck.

and even your wetness against his tip is enough to jolt his stomach downwards. collecting your glossing over his angry head as he rubs himself up and down your folds—he would cum just like this if he wasn’t so stuck on feeling all of you. you’re warm and wet and tight as he pushes against your entrance and oh god he’s going to cum already.

“oh,” he stills, eyes deadset on yours as he slides into you. his tip is rubbing against that spot that makes your back arch upwards and it takes everything in you not to laugh at the distraught look on his face as he says “i have to pull out.”

“you’re joking, right?”

“i really wish i was baby,” he looks pained. he’s never felt something so heavenly and ungodly at the same time. he wants to do bad things, to fuck you into the mattress and breed you full of himself until you’re too weak to care about the aftermath of such recklessness. “i can’t pull out.”

“what?” you laugh, his balls tighten at the sound.

“if i move—” satoru has never looked so serious, “—i will cum. this was a bad idea. why would you let me do this?”

“you’re the one always—”

“actually don’t argue with me, you know what it does to me.” he squeezes his eyes shut and focuses on anything other then the way you feel around him. he does math in his head, thinks about the people he’s killed, how much he loves you… how pretty you look right now… growing old with you.

“i swear you’re getting harder inside of—”

“imsorryiloveyoubutpleasebequietorelseyouaregoingtogetpregnant.”

it takes him a minute of mental gymnastics to feel confident enough to start slowly sliding out of you, but all hope dies when the heel of your foot presses against his ass and with a smile made of sin you pull him deeper inside of you.

he opens his mouth to protest, to tell you he is not joking and all that comes out is a beautiful strangled moan that makes you tighten around him. for a man who claims to be the strongest he is rather weak-willed when it comes to your pussy. he needs to cum so hard that it hurts, but a fear of maybe ruining your life and relationship digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“don’t do this to me,” he whines.

but you’re smiling. you’re so tight and wet and beautiful and everything he’s ever dreamt of having and holding and you’re smiling. “satoru,” you say, and he’s weak. “cum inside.”

anything for you. it’s gorgeous: the way he lets loose, falling forward to press all his weight into you as he groans and his balls release in hot spurts that you can feel painting your insides white. it’s the connection, the intimacy, the tears that prick at his eyes.

and he doesn’t pull out. no, he presses his hips forward to fuck his cum as deep into you as he possibly can and he vows to throw out every condom in the goddamn house.

god he hates condoms.

part 2

[robinsgrl]

Rafe with weird girl is a bit more nonchalant and tame compared to JJ with weird girl. he WILL match your freak and that’s a threat and yeah you might be weird but he’s much weirder he makes you shy. YOU.

weird girl masterlist

MDNI 18+

you’re talkative. You’re never not talking someone’s ear off. Most people can’t handle it. Sometimes your own friends need a moment of silence. But never JJ.

you’re laid back on your bed, legs spread open as his face hides between you. “deb deserves so much better. her boyfriend is such an asshole.” you breathe out shakily as he laps at your cunt.

he hums into you, nodding. “she does, mama. much better.” he dives right back in, your fingers threading through his hair.

“yeah, and the weird thing is she doesn’t think she does,” a small moan leaves your lips but you continue. “we tell her all the time. oh! I forgot the worst part! when they were on a break, he came to the store and-and bought condoms. at her register.”

this makes him pull his face from your heat, eyes wide as he looks down at you. “no fucking way.”

You nod, just as exasperated. “yeah, i know, it was fucking crazy” you tell him as you push his head back down

you’ve gone fishing with him and you’re so damn bored. you came to tan but the suns slowly going down and you're sure you’re as tan as you can be. he adds bait one last time and throws it far into the water. your eyes trail on his strong arms that are flexing under the soft hue of the sunset.

you dont even question your thought. you lean over and chomp down onto his bicep. he’s not even phased. “what’s my sunscreen taste like?” he asks as he glances over at you with a pretty smile. it makes your cheeks flush.

“delicious. wanna try mine?” it’s a joke. but you should know better than to joke like that with him. he doesn’t hesitate to drop his rod and rush to you.

a loud laugh leaves you as he tackles you in a hug, making you land on him as he falls to his back on the boat. he’s nipping at your neck, biting and sucking on you. “jj!” you can’t stop the happy laughs that leave you.

“you taste so good, mama!” he trails his lips down to your chest and bites the side of your boob that’s pressing out of your bikini. it doesn’t take long for him to fully take your tit out and bite your pebbled nipple.

“JJ!”

you’re in bed with jj when you realize something. he’s butt naked. “bro, where are your pants?”

“bro, i like letting my balls get air”

“bro, are you clenching your cheeks right now?” You ask with a laugh as you smack his ass. He lets out a fake moan and pushes his ass to you.

“Bro, i loved that. Do it again.” He’s laying on top of you now, feeling his everything against you. Your hands fall to his butt and you easily squish his cheek. “Bro, im getting a boner.”

“Your bro is giving you a boner? Bro, that’s fruity.”

He nuzzles his face into your neck as you keep smacking his naked butt. “Your little butt is so cute” you comment.

“My butt is NOT small”

“Yes, it’s a tiny lil bubble butt”

“There’s nothing tiny about me, mama” you laugh as he rolls his hips into you.

“JJ! Oh my god!” You laugh and try and push him off of you.

Yeah, no one can ever truly grasp JJ’s freak— he leaves you miles behind. Moral of the story…… he wins.

[suhkusa]

THE KISS BET.

PAIRING. Bakugou Katsuki x f!Reader

SUMMARY. Your friends bet you to kiss Katsuki Bakugou. Fortunately for you, they’re offering you $500 for it. Unfortunately for you, the two of you absolutely hate each other.

CW. third year, angst to fluff, light hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, mature humor, feelings, language

WC. ~2.8k

A/N. enjoy :3

You and your group of friends had a running gig. Bets. 

The group would bet one person to do something, on a scale from normal to outrageous, and that person’s turn wouldn’t end until they complete that bet. Of course, depending on how crazy the bet is, everyone would put in some amount of money. 

The most you’d gotten was $100 total from accepting a date from creep in the business class. Worst date of your life, but Jirou felt bad so she gave you an extra $50. 

As the lot of you gather around the campfire, everyone offers up their money to Mina who had just done her bet to put laxatives in Kirishima’s drink. There were a lot of questions about the morality of it, but you ignored it and gave her a crisp $20. 

“Y/N~ it’s your turn!” Ochako gleed. 

You roll your eyes, “I feel like I just did my other bet, which by the way was shit,” the girls laugh at your words. “I feel like all of you get the easier ones,”

“Easy? I had to kiss Monoma, do you know how hard that was? He knows I’m lesbian so imagine how hard that was for me to convince him,” Yaoyorozu sighs with a palm to her face.

“Oh, whatever,” Mina says with a clap of her hands, “You want a hard one, Y/N?”

“I mean that’s the whole point of paying each other to do bets, they’re supposed to be hard,” 

“Be careful what you wish for,” Mina smirks before standing up and pointing at you. 

“I bet you $100,” your ears perk up.

“-to kiss–,” your eyes widen but listen nonetheless.

“Katsuki Bakugou,” your world falls apart.

“Mina, no,” 

“Y/N, yes,” she jumps up and down, “It’s too late, I already said it,”

All the other girls are hooting and hollering, but you just sit there in silence as you stare at the flames. Are you really going to try this?

As you consider your options the other girls start placing their bet offerings.

“$75 from me,” Tsuyu calls out.

Then from Hagakure, “$50,”

“$150,” from none other than Yaoyorozu. 

“I guess I’ll put in $80,” Jirou smiles at your misery.

“Hmm, I’ll even it out with $45, so $500 flat for you, Y/N,” Ochako smiles.

$500?!? You’d be outright stupid to deny such a big amount of money. But you’d even stupider to think Katsuki Bakugou would kiss you of all people. 

“I think that’s impossible,” you whine as the other girls poke fun at you.

“I guess only time will tell,” Mina grabs your hands and smiles, “Good luck, Y/N,”

—

You can hear the rambunctiousness of your class before you walk in. When you walk through the doors, your eyes scan the class before your eyes lock in on Katsuki Bakugou. You groan with a roll of your eyes before stomping your way towards him. 

“Hey, Katsuki,” you stare down at him, “You want to do me a favor,”

“For you? I rather eat shit,” he grumbles as he meets your gaze.

“You’re a freak,” you already knew this was going to be hard, “Please,”

“Mm, depends, what’s in it for me?” 

“I guess you’ll find out,” you say. “Kiss me,”

It feels like the class goes silent as the two of you continue to just stare at each other. He opens his mouth then closes it. 

“You– The fuck?” His eyes are scattering as the words continue to process through his mind, “What a weirdo, hell no,” then he’s pushing himself out of his seat and making his way to the door.

“You know class starts in 5 minutes right?” you call to him.

“Fuck off,” he grunts as he shuts the door behind him.

Yep, definitely hard. 

—

The next time you bother Bakugou for a kiss is when the two of you are paired up for combat training. Much against his will. 

“Katsuki~” you call out as you dodge another blow from him. “You can’t avoid me forever,”

“Yes-” another explosion, “I can,”

You go on the offense as you continue, “Just a peck, please. I’m a good kisser, I promise,” 

“You’re shit,” he’s grumbling between dodges of your attacks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you send him a wink before getting a hit on him. 

Bakugou groans, about to send another remark, when the training ends with a blow of a whistle.

The two of you meet eyes one last time, “Think it over, kay?” you smile before walking away.

—

Knock, knock. 

You stand at Bakugou’s door.

“Go away, perv,”

“Aw, how did you know it was me? You missed me?”

“I can just tell by the stench,” 

You laugh a little at his words, “Please, let me explain to you and maybe you’ll reconsider,” 

You can hear footsteps, and you smile. When he opens the door he’s adorned in his classic black tank and some sweats.

“You should put some clothes on, perv,” you mock. “Anyways, it was a bet from my friends and there’s $500 on the line, so if you would just–”

“I don’t kiss just anyone, princess,” the nickname causes you to fluster, but you shake it off as he continues, “You gotta earn it,”

He’s got a stupid smirk on his face, and you didn’t even realize it but he’s definitely leaning closer to you. It’s sending butterflies– well maybe more like moths– into your stomach. 

“What the– You’re definitely the pervert. I’m just going to ask to call it off,” you fake gag, “Later, loser,” 

“You’ll be back, nerd,”

You internally groan as you hear him shut the door, ignoring the intense heartbeat in your chest.

—

“No,” Mina says.

“What?! I told you it’s impossible,” you argue, all of your friends on the other side of the argument. 

“No it’s not, he said you had to earn it right?” Mina retorts, “So obviously there’s a way, you’re just stubborn,”

“You’re really not asking me to… You guys are crazy. Please, please, I’ll take anyone else, anything else,” 

“Sorry, Y/N, it’s the rules,” Tsuyu looks at you with pity.

“He hates me and I hate him! That’s all there is to it. It’s not going to happen,”

“Why do you guys even hate each other? It’s our third year, get over it already,” Jirou teases. 

“Because he’s a dick and I refuse to let him walk all over me! I just cursed him out one time for calling me weak. He’s the one who holds grudges because of his fragile, little heart,” 

“You should’ve known he’d hold that against you, but I honestly doubt he hates you because of that,” Mina says. “He probably thought you looked hot,” she laughs.

Heat rushes to the tips of your eyes, “Whatever, all of you are weirdos. But anyways-”

“No, Y/N,” Mina states, end of subject.

“You all just want me to kill myself,” you groan as you sink into the couch. “Whatever, but I’m going to force all of you to double your offering if I actually do this shit,”

The girls cheer. You cry inside. Anything for money, you guess.

—

It seems like the universe heard about the predicament you were in, because it felt like you were suddenly around him more often ever since the bet had been set.

“You know, I don’t want to be on patrol with you either,” you grumble, kicking at rocks as the two of you walk up and down the roads of the dorms.

“Glad we agree,”

Silence washes over you both. 

“Why don’t you want to kiss me? Am I ugly or something?” you ask, but it definitely comes off sadder than you intend.

“Don’t get all insecure because you don’t get a stupid kiss,” he looks the opposite direction of yours, “You know damn well you’re not ugly, so don’t piss me off,” 

He had a strange way of saying stuff.

“Aw, you love me, don’t you?” you tease, poking at his arm.

“Ah you dumbass, pay attention,” you snap back into place with a laugh, “‘M just saying you’re better looking than some of these extras,” 

You don’t know what to say in response to his words. Because they were surprisingly very sweet. 

Realizing he had said too much, he changes the subject. “Let’s go this way,”

You follow him with a nod.

There was definitely a certain type of tension lingering that the two of you walked in near silence for the rest of the patrol. 

You definitely were not repeating back his words in your head over and over again for the rest of the patrol. And Katsuki Bakugou was definitely not turning red because of what he said earlier. Definitely not. 

—

After that patrol, things seemed to sort of shift between the two of you. And to say it was scary was an understatement. 

Conversations wouldn’t always start off with the two of you insulting or cursing each other out. There’d be a hey or hello. If you guys saw each other in passing, he’d greet you with a nod of his head. Him being anything but passive aggressive towards you was terrifying because it was so not him. 

“Y/N,” a familiar voice calls out to you, you groan as you put your pencil down.

“I’m studying, what do you want, Katsuki?” 

“Come with me to the movies after school today,” it’s not really a question, more like a command. 

You put your hands to your mouth in fake(?) excitement, “You’re asking me on a date?! So kind, Katsuki,” 

“It’s not a date, idiot. I’m going with Ei and Denki later, they’re bringing Jirou and Mina. They were teasing me for not bringing anyone, so come,”

“If I don’t?” you muse.

“Be there or be square, nerd,” he doesn’t take your bait, but you can tell he’d prefer it if you go. He walks away before you can respond. 

Well, you guess you have plans later.

;;;

You meet up with the lot of them at the allotted time. The group walks together, and you thank God your friends have a questionable taste in men so you wouldn’t be stuck with some randos. But you also have half a mind to curse them out for leaving you to fend for yourself when you all arrive at the theater. 

They left you with no choice but to sit with Bakugou. Part of you really hates it, but not as much as you hate the rate at which your heart beats. 

For the most part, the two of you just sit there in awkwardness. The other couples indulge in that lovey dovey shit, and it makes you feel out of place. You zone out and get into your head. Was there a motive in asking you to come out here? He could’ve invited like… Midoriya… or Ochako… Or anyone, really. But, you? Does he like you? Or were you his last option to invite? Your head hurts from overthinking.

Your hand rests in your lap, picking at the material of your pants. At least that’s what it was doing. Until it happened. 

From the corner of your eye, you watch as Bakugou slid his hand into yours. His fingers finding a comfortable place between your own. You release a deep breath when you realize you were holding your breath. Is he out of his fucking mind?

Despite your efforts to try and justify how much you absolutely hate it. You didn’t even try to stop him. You didn’t pull away. You didn’t let his hand go. And even as the movie ended, you actually felt sad when he slid his hand away. 

The cool air of the night shocked you a bit when all of you made it outside. 

“We were thinking of grabbing a bite, did you guys want to come?” Mina exclaims. 

“Ooh, that sounds good, are you down, Jirou?”

“Sure, and you guys?” they all look at you.

“I- I have a stomach ache… Butter fucks with my stomach really bad,” the excuse is kind of weak, but still holds up as they all nod in understanding. 

“I can walk you to the dorm,” Bakugou offers, and you don’t really give him a yes or no, he just follows you.

Kirishima and Mina whistle and holler as the two of you part ways with the rest of them. 

Part of you regrets making up some stupid lie to go home. Because this was way more awkward than getting free pizza. 

The two of you are right by each other as you walk in silence towards the dorm. You wait. And wait. Wait for him to bring it up. Why did he do that? Why did he grab your hand? Was it all a front?

Why is he treating you so well?

Even as he drops you off at your room, he says nothing. Just a simple “Goodnight,” before he’s making his way to the elevator.

What an asshole.

—

So you take the initiative. The initiative in ignoring him. You weren’t some casual fling. Fuck the bet, fuck him.

When you saw him making his way towards you, you were quick to get up and rush out of the classroom. When he nodded your directions in passing, it was easy to just walk past and not acknowledge him. Whatever there was between you and him, was gone. Whatever “it” was, exactly. 

But you were okay. You guess. You were down $500 or $1000, but whatever. That game was bullshit anyways. You always got the worst bets. You kind of felt bad that you were the end of it, though. 

It was easy to avoid him. That’s what you thought. At least until one week later, you found yourself cornered by your dorm room with nowhere to go.

“What the fuck is up with you?” he’s angry, you’d be stupid if you thought otherwise.

You cross your arms and avoid his intense gaze, “Whatever do you mean?” 

He’s getting closer, and a tiny, like miniscule, part of you finds angry-him hot. “You know what the hell I mean, you’ve been avoiding me,” 

“Nuh uh,” you retort, still avoiding the subject at hand. “I’ve just been busy, sorry,”

“Like hell, Racoon Eyes said you’ve been in your dorm room everyday, so try again, asshat,”

Fucking Mina.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you,” you poke at his chest, “Now get out of my way before I beat your ass,”

“Yeah? I’d like to see you try,” he’s smiling with mockery.

“Oh, I’m sure you’d like to be touched by me, you little virgin,” you inspect your nails in nonchalance, “Too bad, so sad, now move,”

“No, not until you answer me,” he’s a bit more serious now, you can sense it in his tone. 

You groan, “Fine, not until you answer me, though. Why the fuck did you hold my hand and act like it didn’t happen? Am I like a joke to you?”

He straightens up and his eyes widen. He looks to the side, then back at you.

“You’re fuckin’ smart, why don’t you take a guess?”

“You’re not a baby, why don’t you use your words?” 

You got him there.

“Maybe ‘cuz I like you, or something, idiot,”

You laugh. Laugh. Because he really thought you’d believe a stupid joke like that.

“You’re funny, but seriously, why did–”

A kiss. Katsuki Bakugou has always been known for his speed and his wit. But now you see it more than ever. As he steals a kiss from you. It happens faster than you’re able to even realize you’re leaning into it. 

When the two of you part, it’s tense again. You don’t know if you should say something but he takes that choice from you.

“You think that was funny?” he asks.

“Well- no, but–”

“No buts, that’s that,”

“I didn’t even say I like you back! What if I didn’t-”

“Oh, so you do?” you jump up in realization you fumbled your words. “Good to know, princess,”

“Ugh, you’re so annoying. How was I supposed to know you liked me? You’re such an asshole, you know?”

“Really? Because this asshole just got you some cash,” he laughs referring to the bet, “But y’know, I don’t let just anyone call me Katsuki,”

You grit your teeth before throwing a punch at his arm, “Annoying! Annoying, so annoying,” 

Another hearty laugh escapes from his lips as he pulls you into a hug. You didn’t even know Bakugou gave hugs. But you don’t mind it. 

“You’re such a pervert, I bet you’ve been looking forward to that kiss,” he teases.

“Yeah? Well you’re a pervert for even kissing me in the first place,”

—

YOU: pay up bitches

YOU: i’m talking double btw

[164 new notifications]

You were rich and in love. What more could you ask for?

© all writings belongs to suhkusa 2024. do not repost or change.

[soshinysochrome]

Pre-cut fruit/veggies as an accommodation

I'm going to go on a rant that's been building up for a long time but needs to be said.

I just watched a video from How To ADHD where they finally articulated what I've been trying to explain to people for a long time; that buying pre-cut fruit and veggies is an accommodation.

Because holy shit, do people get angry at people who buy things pre-cut, like it's some kind of moral failing deserving of the vitriol and abuse that it gets. And it always comes complete with people smugly declaring that they take the time to cut their fruit and veg themselves, like somehow that makes them better than people who don't.

Lets get something absolutely clear.

Yes, we know it would be cheaper to buy produce and cut it up ourselves. Yes, we know that the added packaging is more wasteful. And we know that other people are judging us for it.

But here's the thing, starting with the fact that "taking the easy way" is not a moral failing:

Pre-cut produce is an accommodation.

I have ADHD, depression and seasonal affective disorder (seasonal depression). One of these by themselves makes taking care of myself difficult enough, but very rarely am I battling just one of these conditions at a time. And when it comes to cooking or preparing food, my options are very often either to spend a bit more to buy pre-cut fruit or veg, or not eat fruit/veg at all. Because if I buy produce I have to prep myself, at least one of three things will happen: 1) I'm going to forget it exists until it starts to make the fridge stink and it has to be thrown away. 2) I'm going to see it every time I open the fridge, feel bad that I can't bring myself to prepare it, worsening my executive dysfunction and depression, and making it even less likely I ever will prepare it. 3) I'm going to buy it, put it in my fridge, remember that it's there and beat myself up until it expires for being unable to bring myself to prepare it.

When people rail against those who buy pre-cut, what those of us who rely on it hear is that you don't think we deserve to eat healthily because we can't do it ourselves. Which sounds about as absurd as telling someone with glasses that they don't deserve to wear those glasses because they can't see without them.

Rant over. Leave people who buy pre-cut alone.

[agentrouka-blog]

Respectfully, Do you even realise you are not the minority in this situation? Sure, some people have pushed their hate for Jewish people to extreme levels, but just looking at the map, Israel is not the victim here. Innocent civillians in Palestine, including children, are dying slowly every day. As a Jewish person, you should know what it feels like to be discriminated , and sadly this is a case of victim turning abuser with Israel. Have you even tried to analyse the situation critically outside your biases? Can you not see that this "rise in antisemitism" is most of the time people speaking out saying you can't defend what Israel is doing? Sure, even if it isn't "their native territory" is it then justified to fucking wipe them out like a smidge on the map to reclaim it???

I am not Jewish.

The fact that you assume I am is pretty telling, because the utter indifference toward what you so glibly describe as

Sure, some people have pushed their hate for Jewish people to extreme levels

by the non-Jewish vast majority has been terrifying to me. People shrug off attacks all over the world against Jewish civillians just trying to live their lives, or worse they try to justify it as political action or as something the perpetrators just can't help.

Have you even tried to analyse the situation critically outside your biases?

Have you? I'm not the one trying to press a complex and decades (centuries) old, deeply protracted problem into a simple frame of good and evil or "victim and abuser". (Nice, trying to turn the history of antisemitic persecution into a teaching moment that Jewish people just failed to learn from.)

Come back when you can explain to me how hunting Jewish children in Berlin, pelting them with rocks in London, violating them in France or burning their facilities in Australia is helping children survive in Gaza. I'm sure it's going to be riveting, seeing how me sharing (a very few) posts calling out antisemtism already provoked you into going "but Israel!!!!"

Stop trying to pretend away or ignore the very real and terrifying danger people face just for existing as Jews everywhere, and maybe I'll find your humanitarian concern credible or consistent. As it is, I'm seeing a hypocrite coming into my Inbox to complain that I am sullying their feel-good morally pure middle eastern political cause with dirty dirty nuance. For asking them to care about maybe addressing that negligible issue of hatred of Jews being "pushed to extreme levels" (as opposed to the normal and acceptable levels, I presume).

[helioooss]

ii. wearing no disguise, you erase him

synopsis: after a rare drunken night, y/n wakes up in bed next to the most untouchable girl at yonsei: karina. she’s immediately thrown into a mess she never wanted, torn between her own moral compass and the undeniable pull of something she doesn’t understand. some lines, once crossed, can never be undone.

w/c: 5k+

warnings: heavy cheating, implied sex, alcohol, smoking, just normal uni stuff, swearingggg, slow burn

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

guilt is a strange thing. it doesn’t hit you all at once. instead, it lingers, creeping in slowly until it’s everywhere — woven into the fabric of your thoughts.

for the last few days, you’ve done everything you can to not think about what happened; convinced yourself that if you kept your head down, stuck to your routine and ignored the teasing from your friends, it would eventually fade into the background, becoming nothing more than a weird, blurry memory.

but today — wednesday — the weight of it all finally crashes down on you like a tidal wave.

and the reality of the situation…the one you’ve been desperately trying to ignore, finally catches up to you when you see them together; much closer in person.

karina is standing at the edge of the field, her arms folded as she watches jaewook jog towards her, sweat-drenched but still grinning. she doesn’t move as he reaches her, only tilting her head up, that same unreadable expression on her face.

but then he’s slipping an arm around her waist, pulling her in, and she smiles: soft, familiar, like this is second nature.

you tell yourself to look away; you don’t.

instead, you watch as he leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to her lips, one that she doesn’t hesitate to return with the kind of ease that comes from loving someone — from knowing them.

and why wouldn’t it be easy?

she’s his. watching it, you feel like something inside you splinters.

it isn’t jealousy, at least not in the way people usually mean. it’s not that you want what he has.

it’s more the fact that you shouldn’t have been anywhere near this situation to begin with. this isn’t you. you don’t do messy. you don’t even do relationships.

the last one you had was in high school with a girl named yeji, and even that had been doomed from the start. she had wanted more: more time, more emotions, more of you…but you had never been able to give her that. you were distant, unwilling to let yourself get swept up in anything that required vulnerability and eventually, she stopped asking.

the breakup had been mutual, clean, painless.

“you’re hard to love, aren’t you?” was the last thing she said before closing your chapter together.

that’s the kind of person you are. you keep things simple. controlled. you don’t let emotions dictate your choices.

but somehow, you’ve ended up here, tangled in something so far from simple that it makes your skin itch.

“y/n, please get giselle,” ryujin’s whine pulls you out of your trance, her head hanging out of the passenger window. “we don’t have all day!”

“we do have all day,” yunjin corrects from the backseat, stretching her arms. “but we’d rather waste it inside the house, not out here.”

you roll your eyes, arms crossed as you lean against the door. “yes, yes, i’ll go get her.”

giselle, god bless her soul, has never had a sense of urgency. she does everything at her own pace, stretching time like it exists solely for her convenience.

you’ve lost count of how many times she’s been the last one ready, the last one out the door, or the last one to finish a meal when everyone else is already standing.

and today, as you stand there watching her casually chatting away, you really don’t have the patience for it.

“giselle,” you call out, striding toward them with a scowl. “hurry the fuck up or i’m leaving you behind — the girls are getting pissy.”

“relax,” giselle sighs, waving a dismissive hand. “i was just about to —”

“looking good today,��� minjeong interrupts smoothly and your brain short-circuits. “who for?”

for a second, you don’t even register the words, too caught off guard by the fact that she of all people is saying them.

warmth crawls up your neck and you internally curse yourself for it. you should not be flustered, but you are. “uh…thanks, sure as hell for nobody.”

“aw,” ningning teases, grinning. “you blushing?”

“shut up,” you mutter, glaring at her.

she only laughs, clearly enjoying this. “so, excited for dinner?”

you groan, rubbing your temples. “ningning —”

“what?” she smirks while pushing your buttons more. “it’s a date —”

“it is not a date,” you cut her off sharply. “karina literally has a boyfriend — who, by the way, is kissing her in front of everyone right now.” you motion toward the field where, sure enough, jaewook and karina are still wrapped up in each other.

ningning barely spares them a glance before shrugging. “huh. yeah, i guess that does complicate things.”

“you guess?” you grumble at her. “it’s very much complicated. so no, i am not excited for dinner.”

giselle sighs dramatically, finally pulling herself away from the conversation. “alright, alright, we’ll go before y/n here kills you both.”

“thank you,” you mutter, head low. “yunjin and ryujin are getting hangry and if we don’t leave now, they’ll probably kill us both.”

before you can even turn on your heel to leave, giselle is already yelling out for karina’s name. you whip around in horror, eyes widening as you watch karina and her boyfriend turn toward the sound, surprise flickering across her face when she sees you standing there.

fuck.

she waves at giselle first, but then her gaze locks onto you. and when you look at jaewook, your heart skips a beat because he nods at you before facing forward again; a slight acknowledgment.

“he knows,” you point out. “deadass.”

you don’t wave back at her, too caught up in the way she’s looking at you, like she’s actually embarrassed to see you there.

ningning, the instigator, steps on your foot. “wave,” she hisses under her breath.

“i hate you,” you whisper back, but you force yourself to lift a hand in the most awkward, half-hearted wave of your life.

karina’s lips twitch, amusement flickering across her face. you immediately turn away.

“what is your deal?” you growl at ningning, dragging your feet toward the car.

“act normal,” minjeong chuckles, shaking her head. “it’s weird when you don’t.”

giselle starts hugging them goodbyes like she isn’t seeing them tonight at their dorm — to probably make an entertainment out of your suffering.

as you reach the car, yunjin and ryujin immediately start yelling in relief. “fucking finally!”

“sorry babies,” giselle puckers her lips when she clicks her seatbelts on, settling into the car. “ready.”

the drive back to the dorm is quiet, which is unusual, because when yunjin and ryujin are in a car together, silence is normally impossible.

but this isn’t the usual car ride filled with dumb arguments about what to eat or what song to play next. they all know.

you’re lost in your own head, spiralling in thoughts you can’t put into words — stuck in a loop of guilt and confusion that’s been building up since saturday night.

keeping your eyes on the road, the buildings blur past, feeling the weight of something heavy settle in your chest. you don’t want to talk about it, but at the same time, it’s suffocating, pressing against your ribs, demanding to be let out.

giselle must notice, because after a few minutes, she reaches over from the passenger seat, placing a hand on your shoulder.

“it’s gonna be okay,” she says softly.

for the first time in days, there’s no teasing in her voice, no amusement in her expression. just quiet reassurance.

you exhale slowly, gripping the fabric of your jeans, fingers tightening around the material as you finally let it out. “i feel guilty.”

yunjin turns in her seat, looking at you through the rearview mirror. “guilty?”

“because karina cheated on jaewook with me,” you mumble out, the words tasting wrong on your tongue. “and now we’re all acting like he’s not in the picture.”

there’s a beat of silence, before ryujin sighs. “y/n, that’s not on you.”

“but —”

“you were both drunk,” yunjin cuts in, voice firm but gentle. “whatever happened, you weren’t thinking straight. and you definitely weren’t the one in a relationship.”

“yeah,” ryujin adds. “karina’s a big girl. she made her own decisions. that’s not something you should be carrying.”

you shake your head, looking down at your hands. “but i let it happen.”

“you let what happen?” giselle frowns. “existing in the same bed as her while being borderline blackout drunk?”

you let out a dry laugh, but it dies quickly. “it’s not just that.”

“then what is it?” yunjin asks, watching you closely.

you hesitate. you don’t know how to explain it —not in a way that makes sense. but the guilt isn’t just about the sex, or the fact that it happened at all.

it’s merely the fact that now, karina is acting like she wants to be in your life. like she’s fine with it; like this is normal.

and the worst part?

a small, selfish part of you wants to believe her. because if she’s okay with it, then maybe — maybe — you don’t have to carry all of this weight on your own.

“i don’t know,” you admit finally, running a hand over your face. “it just feels…wrong. like i should stop this before it gets worse.”

giselle hums, tilting her head. “but do you want to stop it?”

you should.

you say nothing.

“look,” ryujin says, shifting in her seat. “you don’t have to overthink this. you don’t even know what she wants from you yet. maybe she just wants to be your friend.”

you let out a sharp laugh. “right. because friends take each other to dinner and personally pick them up like after they’ve slept together like it’s some rom-com date.”

“maybe that’s just how she is,” yunjin offers. “she’s rich, isn’t she? rich people love doing unnecessary, dramatic shit.”

“of course,” ryujin nods as you glance at her from the mirror. “maybe this is just a regular weekday for her. maybe she does this for everyone.”

“oh, for sure,” giselle snickers. “karina probably has a roster of people she picks up for dinner every week. y/n’s just the wednesday slot.”

you glare at her. “you’re not helping.”

“sorry, sorry,” she says, holding up her hands with a grin. “but seriously. what if this isn’t a big deal for her? you’re the only one making it into one.”

“she has a boyfriend,” you remind them, voice tight. “even if i didn’t mean for this to happen, she’s the one pretending like it’s normal.”

“so let her,” yunjin shrugs. “if she wants to pretend, let her pretend. that’s her problem. but you can’t keep torturing yourself over something that wasn’t even your fault.”

“just…go to dinner,” ryujin sighs. “hear her out. see what she actually wants from you. if it’s weird, if it feels wrong, then end it.”

“but give her a chance,” giselle adds, nudging you. “just as a friend. nothing more.”

you stay quiet, rolling their words over in your mind. they’re right. you should just hear her out. it doesn’t have to be complicated.

and yet — you know it will be.

“fine,” you mumble, sinking deeper into your seat. “but if this goes south, i’m blaming all of you.”

“noted,” ryujin chuckles. “but let’s be real. it’s already gone south. you just need to figure out where it lands.”

you groan, shoving your face into your hands as the car finally pulls up to your dorm.

this is so not going to be okay.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

when you get back to the dorm, the weight of everything is still pressing against your chest, heavy and suffocating. you can barely think straight as you shut your bedroom door close, let alone process the fact that in an hour or two, karina will be outside, waiting to take you to dinner.

wrapping a cardigan around your shoulders, you head downstairs where everyone else is waiting.

you barely make it two steps into the lounge room before giselle speaks up, voice far too casual. “oh, by the way, she just texted me. she’s picking you up in like five minutes. she said to let her know when you’re ready.”

you stare at her. “she said five minutes?”

“yep,” she confirms, throwing herself onto the couch like this isn’t sending you into full-blown crisis mode. “plenty of time for you to overthink every life decision that led you here.”

“too late for that,” you mutter, dragging a hand down your face. you feel sick. “what the fuck am i even supposed to talk about with her? i don’t know anything about her besides the fact that she has a boyfriend.”

“that’s a good start,” yunjin says, scrolling through her phone. “you can lead with, ‘so, how’s your very committed, very public relationship going?’”

“great icebreaker,” ryujin nods, feigning approval with that shit-eating grin of hers. “really set the tone.”

you glare at them both before collapsing onto the couch beside giselle. “i’m serious. what if it’s awkward? what if we just sit there in silence for hours? what if she realises i’m the most boring person alive?”

the last question is unnecessary — you definitely don’t care if she thinks you’re dull.

“oh please,” giselle waves you off. “karina’s the most interesting person on campus. she could talk to a brick wall and make it seem engaging.”

“that’s not reassuring,” you groan.

“okay, okay,” she hums, thinking. “here’s a fun fact: her real name isn’t even karina. it’s yu jimin.”

you blink, turning towards her. “what?”

“yeah,” she grins, raising her eyebrows. “yu jimin.”

“why the name change?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“branding,” ryujin shrugs. “karina sounds cooler. more mysterious.”

“rich people love reinventing themselves,” yunjin chimes in with a chuckle. “‘oh, i was just a humble girl named jimin, but now i am karina, goddess of yonsei university.’”

“makes sense,” you mutter. “i should’ve known she was born for this level of campus mythology.”

“what else do you wanna know?” giselle smirks, stretching her arms behind her head. “we’re basically a walking biography.”

“does she have any siblings?”

“an older sister,” ryujin answers immediately. “which doesn’t make sense because she has only child energy.”

“big ‘i don’t share my toys’ energy,” yunjin nods, bouncing her leg so fast the sight of it made you anxious. “actually, it makes this whole situation very interesting, don’t you think?”

“i hate all of you,” you mumble, shoving your face into a pillow. “also, can you not bounce your leg at that speed? jesus.”

“y/n, you can be such an ass —“

“we love you too,” ryujin says cheerfully before sitting up suddenly, giving you a once-over. “by the way, your outfit? kind of great. where’d you get that cardigan?”

you glance down at the grey cardigan draped over your shoulders. “uh…i don’t remember?”

“damn,” she sighs. “i was gonna ask if i could steal it, but i already have too many clothes as it is.”

“you really do,” yunjin rolls her eyes, still bouncing her leg. “your wardrobe is basically a department store.”

“a very cool department store,” she corrects, grinning. “but yeah, you look nice, y/n. karina’s gonna lose her mind.”

“shut up,” you groan, but your ears burn anyway. before you can even process any more of this, there’s a knock at the door.

the room falls silent.

“oh my god,” yunjin whispers, eyes wide. “she’s here.”

you panic, not ready at all.

but giselle is already pulling you off the couch and pushing you toward the door, grinning like she’s sending you off to your doom. “go on, y/n. your princess awaits.”

“shut up,” you groan, swatting her arm before grabbing the doorknob. taking a deep breath, you brace yourself, then open the door. and you forget how to breathe.

karina stands there, leaning slightly against the doorframe, wearing an oversized leather jacket over a fitted top, her hair cascading in soft waves over her shoulders. she looks ridiculously good, like she walked straight out of a magazine shoot and landed at your doorstep.

you open your mouth to say something, anything, but your brain completely malfunctions.

“hey,” she says smoothly, offering a small smile. “you look good.”

you…

your words are gone.

she blinks, tilting her head slightly, clearly amused by your sudden inability to function. “y/n?”

“hi,” you finally manage, your voice embarrassingly weak.

“wow,” ryujin mutters behind you. “strong start.”

“shut the fuck up,” you whisper violently before stepping outside, closing the door behind you before your friends can make this even worse.

she raises an eyebrow but doesn’t comment, just tucks her hands into her jacket pockets. “ready to go?”

you nod.

because words?

yeah, they’re not happening today.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

the car ride is so awkward you feel like you might actually combust.

her mercedes is too sleek, too quiet and too expensive. the kind of car that makes you painfully aware of every tiny movement you make. even just sitting in the passenger seat, you feel wrong — like you’re tainting the luxury with your presence.

your own little hyundai could never compare. it rattles when the engine starts, the air-conditioning works half the time and there are at least three green stains from ryujin’s grimace shakes on the seats that you refuse to talk about.

but this car?

this car smells like leather and something lavish — probably her perfume, that same ridiculous scent that’s been haunting you since that night. it clings to the air, faint but noticeable and the second it hits you, your brain malfunctions.

you sneak a glance at her, because how could you not?

her side profile is insane.

sharp jawline, high cheekbones, perfectly curled hair that falls effortlessly over her shoulders. the glow of the streetlights flickers across her face, highlighting the curve of her nose, the shape of her lips, the way her fingers tap idly against the steering wheel.

how is she even real?

and how the fuck did you end up here?

yu jimin — yonsei university’s most untouchable person, the one every person on campus either wants to be or be with — is sitting next to you, taking you to dinner, like this is something that happens in your life everyday.

it’s so stupid.

“you okay?” she asks, glancing at you briefly before focusing back on the road.

you physically jolt. “yeah!”

too loud, too fast.

her lips twitch, eyebrows furrowing, but she doesn’t comment on it. “you’re quiet.”

“just…processing,” you mutter, fiddling with the hem of your sleeve. “this whole thing is just…yeah.”

she hums. “what, nobody’s ever taken you to dinner before?”

meaning, you have never slept with anybody then take them to dinner afterwards. in fact, you haven’t even done it with anyone at all in over two years.

“not like this,” you say before you can stop yourself.

her eyebrow lifts slightly. “like this? meaning?”

you internally groan at how much of an idiot you’re being. “i mean…you know, with the — car and the…uh, just — you know.”

she’s fully smirking now and you want to throw yourself out of the moving vehicle. “are you always this articulate?”

“shut up,” you mutter, looking out the window, willing the universe to strike you down.

there’s a pause and then she says, “you don’t have to be nervous, you know.”

sinking deeper into the seat, you want to scream; not expecting her to call it out. you thought she would let you suffer in peace, allow you to pretend that this is totally normal and you’re completely fine.

“i’m not —” you start, but she cuts you off with a knowing look.

“y/n,” her voice is calm, gentle in a way you weren’t prepared for. “it’s just dinner.”

you swallow. “with you.”

“yes,” she nods, smiling. “with me.”

you grip your hands together, trying to keep your voice steady. “do you — do you take a lot of people out to dinner?”

karina raises an eyebrow. “would it make you feel better if i said yes?”

“no,” you say quickly, then blink. “i mean — wait, yes? actually, i don’t know.”

she laughs, properly this time, shaking her head. “you’re cute when you overthink, but seriously, i owe you one for the weekend.”

you short-circuit, the rest of her words not registering with you at all as warmth rushes to your cheeks.

“i —” you choke up, shaking your head. “shut up, no compliments.”

she still looks too amused for your liking, but she lets it go, switching lanes with ease. “so, how have the past few days been for you?”

she’s enjoying this. and you hate it.

you exhale, grateful for the change of topic. “same old. classes, work, dodging my roommates’ nonsense. nothing new.”

“dodging?” she raises an eyebrow. “i thought you were close with them.”

“i am,” you say. “which is exactly why i have to dodge them.”

she chuckles, the corners of her lips twitching like she understands exactly what you mean. “fair enough. how’s law treating you?”

“slow death by legal theory,” you mutter, making her laugh again. “what about you? what have you been up to?”

“hectic week,” she sighs. “midterms are coming up, so professors are losing their minds.”

“midterms,” you groan, shaking your head. “right. because life isn’t hard enough already.”

“tell me about it,” she muses. “and being an econ major means i get to spend my nights staring at graphs and pretending to care about financial models.”

you purse your lips. “wait, you’re an econ major?”

“why do you sound shocked?”

“i don’t know,” you shrug. “i just assumed….something else. business? art?”

“art?” she glances at you. “what about me says i’m an artist?”

“your whole ‘i don’t care about anything but i’m effortlessly cool’ vibe,” you say, making air quotes. “feels very tortured artist.”

“i’ll take that as a compliment,” she smiles at you.

before you can spiral any further, the car slows to a stop. you frown, glancing out the window, and then your stomach drops.

“karina,” you say slowly, staring at the dimly lit, ridiculously expensive-looking japanese restaurant in front of you. “this place is, well, looks like it’s going to cost…a car payment.”

“good thing i already have a car then,” she says smoothly, undoing her seatbelt.

“you could’ve taken me to, like, a normal restaurant place,” you argue, still stuck on how outrageously fancy this place is.

the way you just sounded so fucking stupid makes you cringe.

“this is a normal restaurant place,” she smirks, stepping out of the car. “for me.”

“that’s insane, yu jimin,” you grumble under your breath, following her inside.

she laughs at that, leading you through the entrance, where the inside is just as obnoxious as the exterior — dim ambient lighting, minimalist decor, waiters who look like they judge your financial status the second you walk in.

the kind of place that doesn’t bother listing prices on the menu because if you have to ask, you shouldn’t be here.

“you’re paying for this,” you whisper as you both are led a seat deeper into the restaurant; your stomach twisting into knots.

private rooms weren’t for casual dinners. they were for business deals, for secret meetings, for people who didn’t want to be seen.

and suddenly, this dinner — this whole situation…felt heavier.

“obviously,” she nods, completely unbothered as she looks back at you. “i invited you.”

this wasn’t just a meal between acquaintances.

there was so much more to this than she was letting on.

you hesitate for half a second before stepping inside, feeling like you were crossing some invisible line, stepping into something you couldn’t back out of.

the room is small, intimate, with soft lighting casting a warm glow over the wooden table. the air is thick with the scent of grilled fish and soy sauce, but it does nothing to calm your nerves.

karina moves with ease, like this is just another normal night for her. she shrugs off her leather jacket, draping it neatly over the chair beside her before settling in. she’s completely comfortable, unfazed by the weight in the air.

meanwhile, you feel like you can’t sit still.

“relax,” she says, smirking as she watches you hesitate by the door. “you’re acting like i brought you here to commit a crime.”

“didn’t you?” you mutter, finally sinking into your seat.

“if i did, you’d already be an accomplice,” she muses, casually picking up the menu.

you scoff, rolling your eyes, but it’s fake, a weak attempt to mask the very real panic thrumming under your skin.

this is out of your depth. you shake your head, still processing the fact that you’re here, sitting across from her, in a place where a single sushi roll probably costs the same as your entire grocery budget for the week.

“this is ridiculous,” you mutter, picking up the menu. “this entire restaurant is ridiculous.”

“what?” she tilts her head, watching you carefully. “you don’t like it?”

“i didn’t say that,” you huff. “i just think i could feed my entire dorm for the price of one dish here.”

she grins, resting her chin on her hand. “then i guess it’s a good thing i only brought you.”

your stomach flips.

the way she says it — casual, like it’s nothing, like she isn’t looking at you with that same unreadable expression that makes your pulse skyrocket — it’s too much.

you clear your throat, forcing yourself to focus on the menu. “so, what’s good here?”

she laughs once more, like she knows exactly what she just did to you. “i’ll order for us.”

you narrow your eyes. “is this an ‘i have impeccable taste’ thing again?”

“yes,” she says simply, not even trying to deny it.

you sigh, but you let her do it, leaning back against the plush booth as she orders effortlessly, she’s done this a million times before.

as the server leaves, she turns back to you, gaze steady. “so, y/n…tell me more about yourself.”

you blink, caught off guard. “what do you want to know?”

“everything,” she says easily, leaning forward slightly. “start talking.”

you hesitate, caught off guard by the genuine interest in her voice. you’re not used to people asking about you — not like this.

but for some reason, with karina sitting across from you, watching you closely, waiting…you kind of want to answer.

“how about you start first?”

and surprisingly, the conversation flows. despite the initial tension, talking to her is easy.

she’s quick-witted, sharp and knows how to keep a conversation moving. she talks about her family, her older sister — the golden child, already married, already working under their father. she talks about how her dad owns several businesses, how she’s expected to follow in their footsteps even though she has no idea if that’s what she actually wants.

“business was never my thing,” she admits, swirling her white wine idly. “but my dad doesn’t really care about that.”

“so what is your thing?” you ask before you can stop yourself.

she exhales, lowering her head slightly. “that’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it?”

you hum, nodding. “must be nice, though. having all these options, being able to choose what you want to do.”

she looks at you carefully, like she’s studying the way you said that. “and you don’t?”

you hesitate before shrugging. “i mean, i guess i could change paths, but law is what i’ve always known. it’s what makes sense.”

“but do you want it?”

you falter. “i think so.”

she doesn’t push, but something flickers in her gaze, like she’s filing that information away for later.

this is a date.

and the closest thing you’ve ever had to one was that awkward high school relationship, where you would sit in the same café after school, pretending to be interested in whatever yeji was talking about while secretly wishing you were at home reading instead.

but…this is different.

because no one has ever gone out of their way for you like this before. no one has ever picked you up in an expensive car, taken you to a restaurant that probably requires a bank loan just to order a side dish and actually wanted to know you.

and that’s what makes this worse.

because she is sitting across from you, watching you closely, her expression unreadable but undeniably focused, like she’s trying to understand you.

and you don’t know what to do with that.

she had a way of making even the most casual topics sound interesting, like she could take something as mundane as a daily routine and make it feel like a secret worth knowing.

somewhere between the first round of appetizers and her casual, smug decision to order for the both of you, you started to let your guard down.

“so you really just don’t go out, huh?” karina asks, leaning back slightly, her fingers playing idly with the rim of her glass.

“i go out,” you say, defensive. “just not to places like this.”

“where do you go then?”

you shrug. “work. classes. home.”

karina raises an eyebrow. “that’s it?”

“sometimes the convenience store,” you add. “for essentials.”

she snorts at that. “right. because instant ramen and energy drinks are essential.”

“they are when you’re studying law,” you say, pointing your chopsticks at her. “you wouldn’t get it, econ major.”

she hums, tilting her head. “actually, i do get it. i survive off caffeine and overpriced sandwiches.”

“the rich struggle too,” you deadpan. “who would’ve thought?”

“we all have our burdens,” she sighs dramatically, placing a hand over her chest. “mine just happen to involve foie gras and a trust fund.”

you let out a quiet laugh before taking a sip of your drink. “must be tough.”

“you have no idea,” she smirks, then rests her chin on her hand. “but really — why don’t you go out?”

you hesitate.

you don’t know how to explain it without making it sound like some kind of tragic backstory, because it’s not. you just…never saw the point.

you were never the type to crave social outings, never had the urge to throw yourself into clubs or attend every party like your life depended on it. even in high school, while other people were busy forming friendships and getting into messy relationships, you were just existing — watching from the sidelines, never feeling the need to participate.

and for the most part, you were fine with that.

until now.

until you’re sitting across from someone who had every reason to never notice you, and yet here she is, looking at you like she actually wants to know.

“i guess i just never saw the point,” you admit finally. “going out, meeting people — it’s never been my thing.”

karina watches you intensely for a moment before nodding slowly. “i get that.”

you raise an eyebrow. “do you?”

“yeah,” she hums. “contrary to popular belief, i’m not actually that social.”

“you’re literally the most popular person on campus.”

“popularity doesn’t mean i like people,” she muses, lips curling slightly. “it just means i tolerate them well.”

you huff out a laugh, shaking your head. “so, you’re saying you tolerate me?”

she smirks. “i think i can handle you.” your stomach flips. before you can even respond to that, karina leans forward slightly. “so, no dating history then?”

you nearly choke on your drink. “what?”

“you said you don’t go out much,” she shrugs. “so i’m assuming you haven’t dated much either.”

you scowl. “that’s a bold assumption.”

“am i wrong?”

you glare at her, but the way she’s looking at you— so smug, so sure of herself — makes you sigh. “no. not since high school.”

karina chuckles. “i knew it.”

you roll your eyes. “what, is that funny to you?”

“a little,” she admits, still wearing the smirk of hers. “just didn’t expect it.”

“why?” you challenge. “because you thought i was some kind of romance expert?”

“no,” she says, biting her lip. “i just thought someone would’ve tried harder to keep you.”

your heart stumbles over itself, your fingers tightening slightly around your chopsticks — you don’t know how to respond to that.

luckily…or unluckily, she shifts gears before you have to because suddenly, the warmth in the conversation diverts.

“you know, it’s kind of weird we’ve never crossed paths before,” she muses, setting her drink down. “giselle’s been my friend for years, and yet you and i? nothing. like we existed in separate universes.”

you chuckle. “maybe i was actively avoiding you.”

“probably,” she smirks. “but still. two years, same campus, same social circles. and yet this is the first time we’ve properly spoken to each other.”

you shrug, trying to ignore the weird tension creeping back in. “maybe the universe was trying to keep us apart.”

“and yet,” she begins, resting her chin in her palms. “here we are.”

you roll your eyes, but you’re smiling, and you hate that she makes you feel comfortable.

but then —

there’s a pause. a long, drawn-out silence where she just looks at you, her gaze steady, unreadable.

the warmth of the conversation dims slightly, something unspoken settling between you. and you know. you know what’s coming before she even says it.

“about that night,” she begins, carefully, like she’s testing the weight of each word. “do you remember?”

you knew this conversation was inevitable, but hearing it out loud sends a rush of panic through you.

and with fingers tightening slightly around your drinks, you admit: “bits and pieces.”

she nods slowly, her gaze dropping for a second, like she’s trying to figure out how to phrase what she wants to say next. “same.”

you don’t speak. you can’t.

“i don’t know what came over me,” she continues, voice quieter now. “but i remember looking at you, and your lips, and your stupidly attractive smile, and it just…happened.”

there it is.

the confirmation.

the final piece of proof that what happened between you wasn’t just a drunken mistake — it was a choice.

your breath catches in your throat, the world suddenly slowing down and shrinking right before your eyes.

karina leans back slightly, exhaling deeply. “i don’t regret it,” she confesses honestly. “but i know it was wrong.”

the words settle between you, thick and heavy. and suddenly, it all clicks. the private room. the secrecy.

“you took me to dinner so you could make sure i keep my mouth shut,” you start off, forcing a dry chuckle, trying to make it lighter than it feels. “i get it. don’t worry. the only people who know are our trusted friends and that’s where it’ll stay. he will never find out.”

“what?” she frowns, seemingly confused, then frowns more. “that’s not why you’re here.”

your stomach tightens. “then why am i here?”

she lets out a sigh; watching you closely, like she’s waiting for you to catch up. “because i don’t want that to be the end of it,” she answers, voice quieter, steadier.

your heart stops.

she leans closer, elbows resting on the table, fingers barely grazing the edge of her glass. “i don’t know what this is, but i know i don’t want to pretend it didn’t happen.”

your brain races, trying to process what she’s saying, trying to understand why she’s saying it.

“karina —”

“jimin,” she corrects softly.”

you swallow, your pulse pounding as you nod gently. “jimin.”

she smiles slightly at that, but her expression stays serious. “let’s continue this. whatever this is.”

your stomach twists. “but you —”

“i know,” she says, cutting you off gently. “i know…but i still want this.”

the weight of the conversation lingers between you, heavy and inescapable. you stare at her, speechless because deep down, for whatever reason, you do too.

you don’t know how to sit still; your fingers trace the edge of your drink absentmindedly, your mind is running at a pace you can’t keep up with. the air in the private room feels thick, charged with something you’re not ready to name, something you don’t know how to handle.

and across from you, she watches you with a gaze that’s too steady, too knowing, like she’s picking apart every hesitation, every moment of doubt playing out in your head.

you have spent your whole life avoiding this exact situation. you don’t do complicated. you keep your world small and your life structured.

and yet, here you are, sitting across from the girl who has single-handedly destroyed every rule you’ve set for yourself.

it terrifies you, but what terrifies you more is that you don’t want to leave.

“we barely know each other,” you finally say, your voice quieter than you mean for it to be, like you’re trying to convince yourself more than her. “this is ridiculous.”

she doesn’t react right away. she takes a slow sip of her drink, her lips pressing together briefly before she sets it down with a soft clink. she tilts her head slightly, considering you, her eyes dark and unreadable.

“that’s the point,” she says finally, leaning forward slightly. “i want to know you, only if you’ll let me.”

your breath catches in your throat.

there’s something about the way she says it — so simple, so assured, like the most obvious thing in the world has already been decided.

your heart beats unsteadily, an uneven rhythm that makes your chest feel tight. “why?”

she exhales, her fingers idly tracing the condensation on her glass. “because whatever i felt that night, i want more of it.”

you can’t look away from her.

“for the first time in a long time,” jimin continues, voice softer now, “i felt…seen. understood.”

the words settle between you, heavy with something unsaid. you know that feeling all too well, understand what it’s like to exist in a space where people only see the version of you they want to see — what it’s like to be looked at but never really known.

but you don’t let yourself dwell on it.

instead, you force yourself to focus on the one thing that keeps clawing at your brain, the one thing that refuses to let you ignore it. “what about jaewook?”

she sighs, leaning back against the booth, running a hand through her hair. “jaewook is…safe. stable.”

you frown slightly. “what do you mean?”

she nods, her gaze flickering to the side briefly before returning to you. “he pursued me for months before i finally said yes. he really tried. so i thought, why not?”

you don’t say anything.

“he’s stable,” she continues, her voice steady, but there’s something underneath it — something detached, like she’s explaining a business decision rather than a relationship. “he’s nice. he’s everything that should make sense.”

“but?” you prompt, even though you already know the answer.

“but it’s not what i expected,” she admits, breathing the words out slowly. “our relationship is all surface level. we look good together, people like seeing us together, but that’s it. there’s nothing deeper. nothing really…real about us.”

you hesitate before asking, “does he love you?”

jimin lets out a quiet, humourless laugh, almost like she’s too hurt to admit it. “i think he likes having me. i think i’m just…another thing that fits into his life. another box he gets to check off. perhaps, it’s his way of showing he loves me.”

you don’t know what to say to that.

“he’s only been to my dorm once,” she continues, her tone almost absent, like she’s only realising it as she says it out loud. “he doesn’t try to know my family, my friends. all he wants is to play football and have a pretty girlfriend.”

you frown, something about that making your chest ache in a way you weren’t expecting. “he doesn’t ask about your life?”

she shakes her head. “if you asked him right now what my major is, he’d probably say law. or communications.”

your eyebrows knit together. “but you’ve been together for over a year.”

“and he still doesn’t know me,” she says simply. “because he doesn’t want to.”

you can hear the quiet frustration in her voice, the resignation.

“so when you asked me all those questions at the party,” she adds, watching you closely, “it was the first time in a long time that i felt like someone actually wanted to know me.”

you inhale sharply, the weight of her words pressing against you.

because you remember now.

-

you hadn’t even wanted to be there.

ryujin and yunjin had thrown yet another one of their weekend parties and because you unfortunately lived with them, you had no choice but to exist in the middle of it. the plan was to just lock yourself in your room, maybe throw in some noise-cancelling headphones and wait it out, but that plan had gone to shit the second ryujin shoved a tequila shot in your hand and dared you to leave.

so you stayed. you drank. and somehow, somehow, you found yourself on the balcony, away from the suffocating crowd, just trying to catch your breath.

and that’s when she showed up.

you had never spoken to her before. you’ve seen her in passing, of course, because who hadn’t?

she was the kind of person people gravitated toward, even when she wasn’t doing anything.

but that night, when she stepped onto the balcony, she looked…different.

tired, almost.

“escaping too?” she had asked, leaning against the railing beside you.

you had hesitated before nodding, head spinning. “not really a party person.”

she hummed, taking a slow sip of whatever was in her cup. “me neither.”

“yeah, right,” you scoffed, glancing at her. “you’re karina.”

“and?”

“and people like you thrive in places like this.”

she turned to you then, eyes sharp, curious. “people like me?”

you shrugged. “popular people. you know, social butterflies. the kind that make parties their personality.”

she let out a short laugh, shaking her head. “see, that’s where you’re wrong. i hate parties. but people expect me to be here, so here i am.”

you frowned slightly, stumbling upon your words. “so you…i mean…do things just because people expect them from you?”

“sometimes,” she admitted, tilting her head. “don’t you?”

you opened your mouth, but nothing came out.

because, well.

you did.

your whole life had been about following a path, about making the right choices, about doing what was expected of you.

she studied you for a second before leaning in slightly, lowering her voice just enough to make it feel intimate. “so what do you actually want, then?”

you had paused. blinked.

then, you looked at her — really looked at her.

at the way her dark eyes flickered in the dim light, the way her lips curled slightly when she was genuinely interested, the way she was leaning in closer than necessary.

“i don’t know,” you had admitted. “maybe more tequila?”

and she had smiled.

“me neither, but i agree with you on that one.”

-

you exhale as your thoughts finally gather, trying to push past the feeling creeping up your spine. “but like i said, we barely know each other.”

“then let me,” she argues, putting a hand over hand — the contact sending jolts throughout your body. “i want to.”

you glance up, meeting her gaze, and fuck, she’s so pretty.

“i feel bad,” you admit, your voice tight. “this goes against everything i believe in.”

jimin tilts her head, studying you. “why?”

“i don’t date,” you say. “i don’t sneak around. i don’t…do this.”

“but you want to,” she prompts and it’s not a question. your pulse stutters. “tell me why you don’t date.”

you exhale, rubbing your temples. “i had one relationship in high school. yeji.”

she raises an eyebrow, arms crossing. “and?”

“and i was terrible at it,” you admit, groaning. “she wanted me to be affectionate, and i just wasn’t. i didn’t know how to be. i was emotionally unavailable and probably the worst girlfriend ever.”

she chuckles, shaking her head. “poor yeji.”

“yeah,” you snort, running your fingers through your hair. “we lasted six months before she realised i was a lost cause.”

“so you think you’re incapable of dating?”

“i think i’m bad at it,” you say honestly. “and i think this…us…is dangerous.”

she nods, letting your words settle before she speaks again. “then let me know when you’re ready.”

you blink, caught off guard. “what?”

“i’ll wait,” she says simply. “if you need time, i’ll give it to you.”

you stare at her, searching her face for any sign of dishonesty, any hint of a game, but there’s nothing.

she means it. you don’t know what to do with that. so you nod, your voice barely above a whisper. “okay.”

and as she leans back, a small, satisfied smile playing on her lips, you feel it — the inevitable pull, the thing dragging you toward her, despite everything.

because even though you should run, even though you should shut this down completely —

you already know. you’re going to fall into this…you never stood a chance.

the rest of dinner feels easier. somehow, after everything that had been said, after every unspoken tension that had settled between you, the weight of it all lifted.

you still didn’t know what this was.

but you knew, without a doubt, that you wanted to be sitting across from jimin.

for the first time in years, maybe ever, you weren’t rushing to leave, looking for an exit, counting the seconds until you could be alone again.

she told you more about her family, about the expectations placed on her shoulders from the moment she was old enough to understand what it meant to be a yu.

you told her about your life — about how your world had always been contained, structured. how you had never been the kind of person who sought things like this out, who chased after feelings you didn’t understand.

she listened and you listened back.

and by the time you were both walking toward her car, stepping back into the night, something inside you settled. you still weren’t sure what you were getting yourself into…but it shed some light.

there was no more overthinking. no more agonising over whether you should be here.

you were just here. with her.

the drive back to your dorm is quiet, but it’s not awkward. it’s a kind of shared silence that feels warm, comfortable, it doesn’t need to be filled.

the radio hums softly in the background, playing something slow and easy. you watch the city lights blur past through the window, the occasional streetlamp casting a glow over the dashboard, the soft hum of the car’s engine settling into the silence.

but then, jimin moves.

at first, it’s subtle. a shift, a slight adjustment.

and then you feel it.

her fingers brush against yours where your hand rests between you on the centre console. it’s not a mistake. it’s deliberate.

your breath stutters.

you barely have time to process the rush of warmth that spreads through your chest before she stays there, her fingertips resting lightly against your skin.

your pulse spikes, but you don’t pull away. instead, slowly, carefully, you turn your palm upward, letting your fingers graze hers — an invitation.

she takes it.

her hand finds yours, warm and certain, fingers intertwining with yours like they were always meant to.

you’ve never felt this way before — never felt something as simple as holding someone’s hand feel like a shift in your entire world.

not knowing what to do with it, you don’t say anything. you just squeeze her hand slightly and she squeezes it back.

“your fingers are so soft,” she mumbles out.

when you glance at her, her lips are pulled into a small, knowing smile, eyes still focused on the road, but there’s a softness to her expression, something unreadable flickering beneath the surface.

fuck. you swallow hard, your skin burning where she touches you and you don’t know what to do with any of it.

all you know is that you don’t want her to let go.

as your dorm comes into view, jimin sighs out, fingers tightening briefly around yours before she pulls into the driveway and turns off the engine.

“thank you for tonight,” she begins, her voice quieter now, softer. “i had a really good time with you, y/n.”

you glance at her, lips twitching as you rub circles on her skin. “the food was actually good despite the price tag.”

she scoffs. “you were expecting it to be bad?”

“i was expecting to resent how good it was,” you admit. “but i’ll never talk about the price again.”

“bold claim,” she smirks. “we’ll see how long that lasts.”

the teasing makes you grin, but then she speaks again, her tone shifting, turning serious. “really, y/n, thank you.”

you blink at her, caught off guard by the sincerity in her voice. “for what?”

jimin hesitates for just a second before exhaling. “for this. for giving me a chance.”

something in your chest tightens.

“if it makes you feel better,” she continues, her eyes flickering between yours, “i haven’t done this before either.”

your lips part slightly, surprised by the confession. “you haven’t?”

she shakes her head. “not like this.”

the words sit between you, and for a moment, neither of you say anything. you just look at each other.

it was all happening so fast.

the dim glow from the streetlights outside casts a soft, golden hue over her face, highlighting the curve of her jaw, the slope of her nose, the way her lips part slightly as she watches you.

she’s so pretty.

so ridiculously, unfairly beautiful, like she was carved from light itself, only made to be looked at.

your stomach clenches.

and then —

“can i kiss you?” her voice is quiet, barely above a whisper, but it hits you like a strike of lightning.

all you can do is nod because you can’t even form words. your brain is not functioning.

the second your head moves, she’s already leaning in, already closing the space between you.

her lips press against yours, soft, warm and suddenly, it’s like every single nerve in your body lights up at once.

you inhale sharply, tilting your head gently, and she follows, deepening the kiss with a slow, unhurried ease, like she’s taking her time memorising you.

her hand lifts, fingers grazing your jaw and you swear you dissolve into her.

she tastes like the remnants of her drink, the faintest hint of citrus and something undeniably her, something that makes your head spin.

you have never been kissed like this before. it’s not rushed, not careless. it’s intentional.

it’s like she’s trying to tell you something without saying a word.

and when she pulls away — just slightly, just enough for you to breathe — you don’t even think before you whisper, “do you want to come in?”

she freezes; you watch as her eyes flicker between yours, widening just slightly because she wasn’t expecting you to ask, thrown off for the first time tonight.

you don’t know where the boldness came from. maybe it was the way she kissed you, the way her fingers felt against your skin, the way her lips still tingle against yours. but you don’t regret asking.

she swallows, her gaze flickering toward the dorm, then back at you.

she nods — the beginning of a dangerous game.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

part 3 — i wanna feel guilty, i wanna feel that it’s wrong

[solsticehymns]

campus: drabble

james potter x shy!f!reader / college au / fluff / james is relentless

Then I see you, you're walking 'cross the campus / Cruel professor, studying romances / How am I supposed to pretend I never want to see you again?

summary: James Potter is a lot of things—loud, relentless, charming to a fault. And now? He’s your unexpected (and very insistent) escort to class.

a/n: was thinking about this the other day walking to class, the amt of times i've been (or seen girls be) asked for my number when i'm literally just minding my business AND ITS ALWAYS THE MOST HORRENDOUS CREATURE. well, let's just say this came from a very real place but a cute spin hehehe. hope you love it!! xoxo, sunny ☀️🌻

wc: 774

Campus hums with life today, the sun streaking long, honeyed light across the pavement, wrapping the morning in a golden haze. People congregate in nearly every open space available, chatting and laughing the day away.

You wish you had that privilege.

You’re on your way to class: physics lab, actually, no small ordeal. Second semester electricity and magnetism was kicking your ass.

Still, you trudged your way across the courtyard, not stopping to glance up for anything or anyone.

But someone notices you.

James Potter is lounging on a bench, legs spread, half-listening to Sirius go on about some party that’s happening later. He’s not particularly invested—until he spots you.

Something in him lurches, like a gear clicking into place, like a song he didn’t realize was stuck in his head finally reaching the chorus.

His breath snags, fingers twitching against his knee, a restless energy surging through him—sudden, inevitable, electric. A wire sparking to life. A tidal shift, pulling him forward before he can think twice.

He moves—fast, decisive—as if some unseen force has pressed go on his entire being, like the universe itself just rearranged to make this happen.

Sirius blinks, bewildered, as James abandons him without hesitation, gaze locked in on his new mission: you.

“Hold it right there, love,” he announces, like he’s caught you in some grand scheme. “James Potter, by the way. Figured you’d want to know the name of your future favorite person.”

You look up with a mixture of surprise, concern, and hesitancy. “Hello?”

The boy is smiling at you– beaming, really. His eyes are hazel, his teeth are straight, his hair is ridiculously messy and sticking up at odd angles. He wears glasses, and he has a strange sort of boyish charm to him. The grin he wears only broadens as you analyze him.

“Walking to class? Where to?” he says easily, falling into step next to you without a second thought.

You blink at him, utterly thrown off. Is this… happening? Is he actually talking to you? You don’t exactly make a habit of drawing attention—especially not from boys who look like that.

"...Physics?"

James grimaces so hard you’d think he just tasted spoiled milk. "Physics? Bloody hell, that’s worse than I thought. I’d rather—I don’t know, maybe—sit through an entire three-hour lecture on the history of staplers than suffer through that."

You huff a laugh, more out of confusion than anything else. “Thanks, I guess?”

He grins wider, like that was exactly the reaction he wanted. “No problem. I’ll be your emotional support on the way there.”

You hesitate. “That’s…not necessary.”

“Oh, but it is,” he insists. “Morale is key in academic success, you know. There’s actual studies on it.”

You squint at him. “I somehow doubt that.”

“Look it up,” he says, completely unbothered. “Now, tell me, do you always walk this fast, or are you trying to escape me?”

You falter slightly, suddenly hyper-aware of how you’d picked up your pace the second he joined you. Your cheeks darken a shade. “I—um. No reason.”

James gasps—actually staggers, clutching his chest like you’ve just driven a stake through his heart. He even takes a step back, blinking at you in mock devastation.

Busted. Heat curls up the back of your neck. How does he notice everything?

"You are trying to ditch me."

You press your lips together, glancing at him warily. “I don’t even know you.”

James lets out a long, exaggerated sigh, shaking his head. "That’s the tragedy of it all, isn’t it? You, tragically unaware of the life-changing experience that is knowing me."

You roll your eyes. "Somehow, I think I'll manage."

"Oh, sure," he says, nodding solemnly. "Just scraping by. Barely getting through the days. Probably wondering why you feel a vague, unplaceable void in your life." He places a hand on his chest. "That void? That’s me, love."

You scoff, but he catches the way you bite back a smile. James’ eyes flicker with something too pleased, like he’s just cracked a code.

“So what’s the solution then?” you ask dryly.

“Easy. Give me your number, and I’ll personally ensure you never feel empty again,” he quips, all confidence, no hesitation.

You make a noise of disbelief. “That’s the worst sales pitch I’ve ever heard.”

James hums, unfazed. “Alright, fine. Counteroffer—I keep showing up until you give it to me out of sheer exhaustion. Your call.”

You sigh, pausing in front of the physics building. He’s not going to let this go. And you’re tired of pretending you don’t find him charming.

You pull out your phone. “…Fine.”

His smile is bright enough to light the entire courtyard.

PART 2: walk me home?

☀️🌻 masterlist

[dreamerimpossible]

Slasher Reaction When You're Not Interested In Sex

Warnings: +18 content, manipulation, obsession, unhealthy relationships, dark content, there is a hint of non-con in Art the Clown and Alex DeLarge (are you surprised?), angst, mentions of infidelity in some.

Characters: Michael Myers, Chucky, Billy Loomis, Stu Macher, Patrick Bateman, Hannibal Lecter, Vincent Sinclair, Jason Voorhees, Leatherface, Art The Clown, Jason Dean, Alex DeLarge, Kurt Kunkle, Brahms.

Michael Myers

Does he really care about that stuff? I feel like you'd have to actively provoke him to get him interested in having sex with you. If you don't bring out that side of him, he won't care. Seriously, he doesn't care. It's quite likely that he won't even care whether or not you want to have sex. He'd rather have you have a bad side that you can't control, something that makes you more like him than anyone else. He'll enjoy that badness and chaos. Sex takes a backseat.

Chucky (Human Version)

I honestly don't think it would work. However, if he really wants to keep you for himself, you'll have to agree to let him have sex with other people. In that case, I think it would work. He'll try to convince you anyway, but he won't force you if you say no. But you'll probably fight, because he'll think it's personal and that you have something against him, and then you'll have an argument that escalates and you'll end your relationship in the worst way. After that they'll get back together and then break up again. And so on. Although, if we're being honest, that scenario is going to happen either way (Chucky is toxic).

Billy Loomis

Okay, he will. But he'll be very manipulative; he'll push you all the time about it, and it'll be much worse if you know he's Ghostface since he might threaten you, and his manipulations will be much worse than if he was pretending to be a good boyfriend. I think you'd eventually agree, but he'll get used to you giving it to him, and it'll be much worse when you say no. I think he wouldn't force you physically, but he'll pretty much use psychological manipulation to get you to do what he wants from you, which is still forcing.

Stu Macher

If you're just another low-level conquest, he'll cheat on you or leave you for someone else. If you're someone special, he'll stick with you even though he gets frustrated. He could be very loyal if you push his weaknesses correctly without Billy finding out. He will insist that you have sex with him in a silly way, acting innocent and playful, but you will be able to see his disappointed and upset face when you say no. However, if you play your cards right, I think he might continue with you without cheating on you; but you have to manipulate him, which will make your relationship even more toxic, but at this point…who cares?

Patrick Bateman

Tough scenario for you. If he thinks you are a person worthy of him, but you just happen not to want to have sex as often as he does, he will overlook that little flaw of yours. However, that doesn't mean it will be good. He wants you to admire him, to be the center of his life, to moan his name loud enough for everyone to hear. If he doesn't feel that way in the sexual realm as well, he will end up cheating on you with other people, but he will keep you by his side selfishly.

Hannibal Lecter

He doesn't care. Just give him control over you in all the other areas of your life. Give him the pleasure of watching you break down to the point of questioning your own morals and life choices. Make him play with your mind and show him your reactions. Tell him everything that happens to you so he can see if he can use it in some way. Give him a challenge and keep him entertained with your conversations. Provide him with a context that leaves him in euphoria and maximum exaltation. If you can do that…who needs sex?

Vincent Sinclair

He will be slightly disappointed, but he will respect you. He will not treat you differently or anything like that. He will not cheat on you or betray you in any way either. He will be very frustrated if Bo finds out and starts bothering him, but it is nothing he cannot handle. Other than that, I don't see any other problems. He cares more about your loyalty and that you follow the orders imposed on you. That's all.

Jason Voorhees

The best scenario for him. It will be much better if you do not want to have sex ever. He likes not having to fight those instincts that disturb him greatly. It's not even going to be brought up; just tell him you're not interested, and the subject will be forgotten as if it never even existed. This doesn't change your relationship at all. In fact, I think it will be better, because for Jason you won't be an unwanted temptation for him, so he won't have two opposing thoughts about you to deal with.

Leatherface

It's okay; he'll understand. He won't force you or anything like that. He won't treat you differently either. I don't think he cares about those things, if I'm honest. He's more focused on his family and loyalty. And that includes you too. He asks that you get along with his family and be okay with what they do. That you don't have a problem, basically.

Art the Clown

He doesn't care in the conventional way. But if he finds out that the subject is sensitive for you, he will use it against you. So it's best not to let it show or say anything to him, because this man is a fucking madman who enjoys other people's pain (you know that). If you don't say it, the subject will go unnoticed for a long time. If Art ever feels sexual desire towards you and wants to have sex with you, he will simply take you and use you. Seriously, he won't ask questions. He sees you as his toy.

Jason Dean

For him not to care, you would have to be crazy like him. In that case, he will overlook it, because he will believe that something as crude as sex does not have to hinder a love as perfect as yours. I think that at first he will feel personally offended by your refusal; he will try to explain to you that he feels rejected. If you explain it sincerely, he will understand and will not insist further. But he will use it against you in arguments to get you to give him more attention and spend more time with him, claiming that he does a lot of things for you.

Alex DeLarge

Uh… no. He wouldn't take you seriously if you didn't want to have sex as much as he does. He likes sex quite a bit; he's not going to give that up. I think he might keep you around if you like ultraviolence and enjoy it as much as he does. I don't think he'll leave behind a person to help him and follow his orders. But you two can't be a couple; it just wouldn't work. He'll actively try to provoke you into falling for it. In your case, it would be much more fun if you gave it to him consensually, because that would mean he has complete control over you and can make you do things he wants of your own free will. However, if he doesn't want you around him because he's not interested in you in any way other than sexually… then things get darker. We already know his tendencies.

Kurt Kunkle

If he doesn't feel rejected, he doesn't care. If he feels rejected, the relationship will be more toxic. He is manipulative and obsessive. He wants you to admire and love him; if he feels that you dislike him sexually, he will not force you, but he will be excessively controlling, and you will argue a lot. He uses it to victimize himself. There will come a point where he becomes a nuisance to you. On the other hand, if he does not feel rejected, that is fine; he will be toxic in other aspects of the relationship.

Brahms

He will take it personally, no matter what you tell him. He will manipulate you, and it will be emotionally draining for you. You will probably agree on several occasions to get him to shut up, or you will end up manipulating him with sex to obey you. He will obey you every time if you offer him sex. He would like to resist, but he is too hungry for contact and needs to feel the sensation.

[foone]

Tumblr crashed and killed my post and I'm too lazy to go find what I was reblogging, but:

You need to understand that there is a type of right-wing person who is (relatively) sex positive.

You need to understand this because it explains some "contradictions" but more importantly so that you won't assume someone isn't wildly right wing just because they're sex-positive. These people still have horribly opinions on a lot of things, including sexual ones. They just don't think it's Inherently Wrong to do "weird stuff" in the bedroom.

I always describe this viewpoint as "it's okay to get freaky, but don't be a freak".

They're making a distinction between things you DO and things you ARE. They hate the latter, and think the former is fine.

This is a big part of why you get "confusing" things like right-wingers who are against trans people but those same people might enjoy crossdressing during sex. They're fine with wearing girls clothes while they get pegged, but don't think you should be allowed to go by she/her in the workplace if you're AMAB. Crossdressing is a thing you do. Being trans is something you are.

And the post I was trying to reply to was about swingers disliking polyamorous people: it's the same thing. Swinging is a thing you do: they're having freaky sex. What's wrong with that?

But polyamory? Having multiple partners at the same time, even when you're not fucking at the moment? That sounds like something you are.

Basically it seems to be the worldview of people who are sex-positive (to an extent! I don't want to overstate their positivity) in their personal life, but are against "the decay of society".

They're basically conservatives nostalgic for an imagined world where everyone has 1950s social roles in public, but can get up to whatever weird sex stuff they want behind closed doors.

I don't know how much this kind of few point is due to libertarian influence on these kinds of right wingers (where they've internalized the "the government shouldn't tell me what to do" part of the ideology, but still think "the government should tell those weirdos to get cut it out" is fine), or how much this is because of the rise of 4chan as an alt-right meeting spot, and that site was (and still is) partially a porn site.

It's slightly hard to argue that all sex besides married missionary for procreation is immoral when you're one click away from threads full of anal-toy-howtos and pregnant "dickgirl" hentai. (Not that they don't try, sometimes)

Just keep the fact that these people exist in mind: it'll better explain some of the strange opinions you sometimes see online.

It's probably also a major driving force behind Bidoof's law. They can easily argue against something innocuous like polyamory or trans people while filling their own timeline to with images of trans orgies, because they think Doing Sex Stuff is morally neutral, but Being Stuff is inherently wrong. You can cross dress or swing, that's fine, whatever gets your rocks off. But you can't be trans or be poly. That's wrong, apparently.

(This is probably also South Park's fault but I'm not an expert on that show so I'll not try to explain)

[creatingblackcharacters]

"Calling Out Racists? Help!"

(shout out to the situation sender who's chosen to remain anonymous!)

NOTE: People of color, if you feel that your efforts would be in vain or cause more pain than it's worth, I fully respect not doing it. I've been there, and tbh I usually don't. But white netizens, I expect boots on the ground. Racism festers when no one does anything about it.

So, it's finally happened! You've come face to face with antiblackness in your fandom space. You never thought it could be this bad! Naturally YOU don't condone this behavior, so you take steps to remove yourself from this person.

However! Your friends and other fans are still happily sharing from someone that you KNOW is capable of this. Would they still be comfortable knowing they're yapping amongst racists? And then you wonder- should I tell everyone about them? I mean, surely everyone should know?

Thus we've come to the decision:

The Callout

In my honest opinion, callouts are morally neutral. When used to reveal consistent harmful beliefs, intentions, and behaviors to other people, usually of marginalized identities, I think they're critical. Our safety and humanity matters far more than someone's internet fame. If I can't stop someone from being a racist, I at least don't want their vitriol on my dash, and I ALSO don't want people thinking I agree! Racism shouldn't be tolerated at all, but unfortunately, many an antiblack racist has a popular following and will not be removed. Anything less overt than a slur like the example above is more often than not, not a dealbreaker for many.

On the other hand, when it is maliciously weaponized to drag someone down on nothing but hearsay and rumor, it can be devastating. It has often been used as retaliation against those very same marginalized peoples to shut down discussions of racism and other forms of bigotry. In my opinion, you should not do these sorts of things when you don't have any solid proof or an actual education on what you're talking about. Period.

I say that all to say, be intentional. Use your discernment and some critical thinking.

How Ice Deals With It

Let's say you see something that concerns you. First, you need to pay attention to if other Black fans have noted this person's behavior. Has it been previously noticed, have they seen dogwhistles you've completely missed? Keep in mind as well, antiblackness does not have to come from a white person. Don't let "I'm brown" fool you.

If you're confident: confront the person on the particular issue you've noticed.

‼️‼️‼️ For the maintenance of your mental health, you CANNOT go into this expecting to change someone's mind and behavior. If you do, 9/10 you will face demoralization. You cannot walk into these thinking they care. Most people don't, and will deny the harm of their behavior. It sucks, but it's the truth. Change your perspective. The only goal you need to have is pointing out the harm done, so that this person loses the excuse to be racist out of "ignorance". Once you've spoken up, ball's now in their court.

Confrontation doesn't have to be negative! It can be as simple as "hey, what you said was not okay, here's why, and I hope that you can learn from this to do better for yourself and for your fans." Simple, to the point.

‼️Keep in mind, from Fans of Color: the private confrontation is a sign that we're trying to give you a chance to do right. Everyone's not going to receive that grace, nor do I expect every fan of color to offer it. It might just be up with you and your racism that day. 🤷🏾‍♀️ I would take the chance if offered.‼️

We're going to go two routes here.

1) It works

If it works, then what should come next is 1) a full acknowledgment of the violence and harm, 2) visible steps to ameliorate that harm, and 3) an apology to those harmed.

It doesn't have to be a complex apology (unless the situation itself was that large). But it has to be genuine and the change needs to be seen.

Very often you'll see apologies for antiblackness... To white fans. You cannot apologize for your actions to people who were not harmed by them, because they are not the ones with the right to accept the apology!!!! It's not a real apology. They've just covered for being exposed, is all. Be willing to hold each other accountable!

2) It doesn't work

This might still happen after the "it works", btw! Some people genuinely just want the appearance of progressiveness.

Here's where it gets gritty and you'll experience the most discomfort, I'm just being honest:

They might fucking suck!

They might suck, they might make it a point to share with their followers that you suck, and those same followers might also suck! You know how they sound? Like those people who fought for rapist Brock Turner because "he had a good future and this shouldn't ruin it". Yeah.

Recognize that this backlash you may experience from strangers is not coming just from their need to be entertained, but from a realization that if their fave is antiblack and they agree, then THEY are being antiblack too.

That acute pain you're feeling from this effort- you're now feeling a part of the chronic pain that is being a Black fan! And if you're white, you just temporarily sacrificed your whiteness to defend what was right, and now you are seeing a piece what that whiteness shields you from. Idk how else to put it.

Now what?

Well first, this shouldn't make you go "oh well there's no point in fighting racism bc they're so mean." Why do you want to identify with the people who just acted like that lmao. Antiracism is hard, but the right thing isn't always easy. Stand up and dust yourself off, soldier.

Take the steps to protect yourself. That might be a break from socials to decompress. Block people as necessary, use the tag blocker thing.

Recognize that you are not in the wrong for wanting this harm to be accounted for. If this person didn't want to be seen as a willful racist, they should have chosen to do better. They didn't want to, they chose to triple down on their racism, which they are now aware of doing! They just don't care. And that's not within your control. They wanna be a racist, let them be treated like one!

"Curate your space" as they say, and recognize that antiblackness is going to have you potentially removing folks you thought were cool left and right. You might see some people close to you show their true colors. It's time to make some tough personal decisions. I can't walk you through that. But I don't want to be around people who treat antiblackness with apathy, because birds of a feather... 👀

I obviously didn't cover every single scenario here. And this is only *my* way of dealing with these things (if I do at all, anymore). Some folks may go about it differently. But yeah, in summary, go in to point the racism out, and don't let the response determine your self value. 👍🏾

[julietcpulet]

The frog scene wasn’t “toxic”

Say👏 it 👏with👏me👏: You can dislike a scene or characters behavior and at the same time not call it toxic, sexual assault or predatory behavior. Honestly I’m just kinda over this discussion. Jinshi was not assaulting MaoMao.

Tell me you don’t get nuance without telling me you don’t get nuance. Also that you haven’t read the light novel or understand what the author is trying to portray. People who like this scene aren’t justifying “toxic behavior” or into assault, many get the layers of plot unfolding here and like to have discussions around it. It’s not as black and white as “man forcing himself on a girl”. Not everything is men vs women, #metoo. Let’s all be grownups and realize authors can write more realistic characters with complicated backgrounds and emotions where everything isn’t taken at face value. MaoMao hiding her emotions isn’t a cop out to excuse that scene, it’s the reality of her characterization. Saying Jinshi wasn’t using status or his superior strength to hurt her isn’t lying, it’s using simple deduction from their dynamic as well as knowledge of the plot in the light novel to know that’s not how he operates. Does he challenge her on her dense behavior, 100% but they’re both aggressive like that so MaoMao gets equal share of the call out then.

Not to mention the author has shown she’s against assault in different forms already. Did we forget the Anshi episode? So why would she go on to then make the romance include assault, especially when both characters have witnessed and been subjected to objectification in different forms so are averse to it themselves and are trying to move on from that. I think we can say she clearly isn’t, there’s more it it than that.

I’m just really over the virtue signaling and calling out most of the fandom while they know so little of the plot. If you don’t like the way the dynamic between MaoMao and Jinshi is written, that’s your preference but then please just block the tag and move on. Don’t come into the tag and claim SA with a scene people have shown evidence had more nuance from the source material over and over. Then you’re just going against the author so at that point why keep watching?

MaoMao and Jinshi are complicated but that’s what makes them interesting to watch and read about, their story takes time to unfold. And in the end, let’s remember this is all fictional material written by the author meant to be enjoyed as a such. Maybe go read the light novels before you expect everyone to be morally outraged at something fictional characters are doing in a fictional world that is in line with how the author wrote them. Again, not your preference, perfectly fine but then let’s not hate on the rest of the fandom who is enjoying the scene just how it was written. Just choose to move on to something you would enjoy better. This isn’t me wanting to start fights or be rude, it’s just me wanting people to stop telling the fandom who’s actually enjoying the material that they shouldn’t because they want to shove modern sentiments onto it and not take time to appreciate how it’s written.

[luv-lock]

Angeellll my dearest writer♡ I hope you're doing well, if there's any haters not giving you a peace of mind. Just remember that a lot of us likes you!!

Okay so here's my question!

How would Alien!Reader reacts to Anissa? Cus y'know what she did to Mark in the comic- you can ignore this ask if you're not comfortable to write it❀♡

BUT if you do write about it! I would really love to see Reader going Qu mode on Anissa and 'fixes' her cus Mark didn't deserve that :'((

Okay, so first off—thank you! That means a lot, really. People like you are the reason I keep sharing my stuff.

Now, onto your question. How would Y/n react to Anissa?

So, here’s the thing—Y/N’s entire race doesn’t operate on the same moral framework as humans do. To her, sex is just another function—something as instinctual and necessary as eating or breathing. Males don’t get a say, because in her mind, that’s not how things work.

Like, imagine trying to explain to her why what Anissa did to Mark was so disgusting. Y/n wouldn’t understand why that’s bad—because in her species, the males don’t get a say in whether they want to mate or not. They’re brainless slaves. They exist to serve. To be used. She literally wouldn’t comprehend why Mark would be against sex if he was meant for it.

At first, when she hears what happened, she’d just stare at him blankly, trying to figure out why he’s so affected. Maybe it’d even irritate her a little, because what the fuck does he mean by “I didn’t want it?” Like. That’s not how it works.

But when she actually sees his reaction—sees how much it broke him, how he flinches at her touch instead of leaning into it, sees the cracks in him that weren’t there before—ohhh, that would piss her off.

Like, yeah, it pissed her off, but more in a “How dare you take what’s mine” way. Not in a moral “that’s horrible” way. In her mind, if a male is strong enough, he fights off anyone weaker than him. That’s what’s supposed to happen. The fact that Mark didn’t fight back just tells her how pathetic he is—but pathetic in a way that makes her mad rather than disgusted. How dare he let someone other than her do that to him? He’s supposed to be hers. No one else should have been able to touch him, let alone violate him. She doesn’t get why it made him upset exactly, but she understands enough to know that it enrages her.

Because, see, Y/N is a monster in the truest sense of the word. Sure, she’s intelligent, but emotionally, she’s an animal first and foremost. Cold, cunning, but still ruled by primal instincts. She knows how to act like a human when it suits her, but at the end of the day, she doesn’t empathize—she claims people, consumes what’s weak, and destroys what angers her. And Anissa? She’s a rival predator, a lesser one, one that dared to lay claim to something Y/N sees as hers. That’s the part that gets under her skin the most. The idea that Mark is hers—her pet, her mate, her property, her obsession—and someone had the audacity to steal from her? Yeah, no, Anissa just signed her own death sentence.

And that’s when she decides Anissa needs to suffer.

Does she rip her apart right then and there? No. That would be too easy. Too merciful. She’s the apex predator, the undisputed top of the chain, and this? This arrogant, lesser creature dared to touch what’s hers? She’d take her time.

And Anissa gets something special. Y/N tears her apart and rebuilds her into something that’s more to her liking. Her bones extend and curl, her limbs break and reform, her mouth stretches wide in a silent, soundless scream as her body becomes an amalgamation of all the failures that came before her. Clawed hands twitch, a second head nearly forms and then melts back into the grotesque new flesh as Anissa loses herself in endless, endless pain. A writhing, grotesque, ever-changing form of flesh and bone that never settles—never finds peace. A perpetual state of transformation. She molds Anissa into something that can’t even understand itself anymore. Because really, who does this bitch think she is? Did she really thought she could do whatever she wanted to him and get away with it? No, only Y/N is allowed to ruin Mark.

And then Y/N leaves her like that. Not dead—because that would be a mercy. Just awake enough to feel it, to be it, a distorted creature of twitching muscle and glossy skin that drips with its own existence.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

a/n: this is honestly a hot ass mess, and more like an info dump with some loose plot on the side. it's also ridiculously long because i have been wanting to write about this for so long, but i was lowkey too scared too. i also want to say that i don't condone the reader's actions, mean girls aren't cute nor are they funny, it's just for the morally gray plot 😭

i literally cannot stop thinking about what if Spencer Reid had a childhood best friend that was a mean girl.

realistically, i'm aware that spencer looks down on people like that, but for the sake of this au, imagine if the both of you grew up together, and you protected him from bullies and whatnot.

of course you're not a moral person, you're mean and you have a wicked tongue, and you're all around not nice, but spencer loves you.

i'm imagining a typical LA valley girl; that once you both get older, your clothing gets sluttier and you get meaner, while he gets nerdier.

your dynamic i imagine would be a really loose adaptation of the 'mean to everyone else but you' trope.

it's kind of funny to an outsider looking in, because you feel the need to protect your boy genius from people like you.

spencer helps to reel in the bitchy tendencies in you, because you typically lose your cool fast and say whatever's on your mind, which usually comes at a cost of the other person's feelings.

when you guys were younger, he was definitely scared of you.

though you were this chunky girl that should have been bullied right along with him, you were downright worse than what he had to deal with.

the poor boy nearly shit himself when you sat with him at lunch the day after you had saved him from getting his ass kicked.

he was too nervous to say anything, and you've never left him alone since.

now that spencer's older, he figures that your friendship kind of tracks; he always did attract trouble.

the strange part about it was that, yes, you were snappy, but you had never purposely tried to hurt his feelings.

he knows how you get, especially when you go on your tangents or if your buttons had been repeatedly pushed.

you lash out and say things you don't mean, then slink back into his arms with that charming pout on your face, and an apology thick on the tip of your tongue.

spencer sometimes forgets that people kind of fear you because you're sweet on him.

like let's be honest, you're a judgy bitch. no one likes those.

so when he's exposed to that side of you, he gets whiplash.

you took well to the team though, and i only think that's because you can tell how much they mattered to him.

your main thing had always been to try and defend him against people that have ill intentions.

so when see the sheer amount of camaraderie and familial energy that surrounds all of them, you ease up.

but not when they cut him off. that's when you get ugly.

you guys were in separate grades due to spencer jumping ahead, but you still hung out on a daily basis, you had heard his statistical chattering for the majority of your life.

so, you knew it was something he found pleasure in doing, and you'd be damned if someone upset him.

you really did try and bite your tongue! but sometimes morgan's ego was too big for his body, or maybe jj gave him one too many looks for your liking.

luckily spencer can catch the cat-fight bubbling in you from a mile away; he can see the way your eyes narrow first, a disbelieving smile on your face while your exceptionally done nails tap on the nearest surface in irritation.

have you ever seen a cat when its hair stands up on the back of its neck? yeah, that's you.

all it takes is a warm hand on your naked thigh and a small shake of his head to make you huff and cross your arms, the clinking of your bangle bracelets moving along with you.

of course he'll hear all about it on the ride home.

spencer's feelings for you had always been there, but there was a difference between you being his best friend and his lover.

and honestly? that grade school intimidation that he had felt would came back.

because at the end of the day you were you, and he was him.

it was a ridiculous thought, one that you had dismissed when you had confessed to him yourself.

"do you like me back or not, spence?" you had asked out of the blue one day. "because you keep looking at me and not doing anything about it. It's kind of pissing me off."

his wide, shocked eyes met yours, practically tearing his gaze away from the book he had been engrossed in.

"i... do."

"do what?"

"yes, i do like you back."

"good."

dating wasn't all that different than being your friend, he had come to realize.

the only thing that was different was that you were sweeter than ever.

always complimenting him and buying him shit, posting him all over your social media, and even making him your lock screen.

you were so proud to be his partner, that he had forgotten what being loved out loud had felt like.

your relationship came as a shock to no one, of course.

y'all are the epitome opposites attract.

your skimp wear compared to his cardigans, your bite to his soft ask, your scoff to his chuckle.

that's what spencer's come to love. the fact that you guys are so different.

yes, you're a handful, yes you're mean to him sometimes, but like i said before:

he loves you. and that's all that matters.

[maenefa]

This kind of Denethor discourse is so frustrating to me that I am literally pacing back and forth like a panther in a zoo enclosure. Ugggggggghhhhh

A lot of people will tell you that the moral of The Lord of the Rings is “never lose hope,” and that Denethor is bad because he loses hope.

Please read THIS and THIS and especially THIS, which is one of the most beautiful and heartbreaking meditations on LotR you’ll ever read. Tolkien’s ideas about hope are so much more radical than “hope good despair bad.”

Denethor—Tolkien’s Denethor, not Peter Jackson’s Denethor—is unsettling because he tries to hope, but his hope isn’t strong enough to save him. Here are his thoughts on hope, just a few days before his death:

The time will not be long. In what is left, let all who fight the Enemy in their fashion be at one, and keep hope while they may, and after hope still the hardihood to die free.

Denethor has a more “realist” worldview than Gandalf or Faramir, but he’s not a nihilist. He’s still hanging onto hope even though he’s grieving Boromir and he’s positive that Frodo is going to be captured by Sauron. He only breaks when Faramir is mortally wounded and he sees the black ships in the palantir. And I don’t mean he gives up, I mean his mind snaps:

And as [Pippin] watched, it seemed to him that Denethor grew old before his eyes, as if something had snapped in his proud will, and his stern mind was overthrown.

Tolkien repeatedly uses language like “madness,” “madman,” “he is not himself” and “his mind was overthrown.” It’s not subtle!

Denethor is having a psychotic episode. His culpability is reduced, either partially or totally; we can’t know for certain. But I don’t think that everything he says and does in his last moments is “the real Denethor.”

We can do our best and try to have hope, but sometimes life crushes us. How are we supposed to live with the knowledge that this can happen?

Tolkien was haunted by the idea of heroes who fail, heroes who are crushed by their burdens:

Frodo indeed 'failed' as a hero, as conceived by simple minds: he did not endure to the end; he gave in, ratted. (Letter 246)

….I think it can be observed in history and experience that some individuals seem to be placed in 'sacrificial' positions: situations or tasks that for perfection of solution demand powers beyond their utmost limits, even beyond all possible limits for an incarnate creature in a physical world – in which a body may be destroyed, or so maimed that it affects the mind and will. Judgement upon any such case should then depend on the motives and disposition with which he started out, and should weigh his actions against the utmost possibility of his powers, all along the road to whatever proved the breaking-point. (Letter 246)

Tolkien himself tended to judge Denethor harshly, but the character fits very well into the same template as Frodo: a “sacrificial” person who is pushed beyond his limits. The palantir aged him and weakened his mental health, but what truly pushed him over the edge was the wounding of Faramir: Tolkien says that Denethor “maintained the integrity of his personality until the final blow of the (apparently) mortal wound of his only surviving son.”

It’s easy to judge Denethor for using the palantir (although Tolkien said that he had the right to use it and Gandalf admitted that the palantir’s knowledge had often proved useful!) but what should Denethor have done differently regarding sending Faramir into battle? We know that the defense of Osgiliath was necessary because Tolkien had the Rohirrim arrive at the exact moment the Witch King is about to ride through the gate of Minas Tirith. If Faramir hadn’t delayed Mordor’s army, the Rohirrim would have showed up to a conquered city.

Denethor believed that it was necessary to send Faramir to Osgiliath… and he was right! But the pain of being responsible for Faramir’s death was too great for him to bear. You can say that his craving for information killed him, but it’s just as accurate to say that his love for Faramir killed him.

Gandalf tells Denethor’s servants that they were “caught in a net of warring duties,” and this is also true of Denethor. His duty as a father conflicts with his duty as the leader of Gondor, and the strain destroys him.

It may be true that Denethor’s need for control is a character flaw, but I wonder about his final use of the palantir. His son appears to be dying: why does he leave his side to go look in the palantir? I actually think this was a hopeful act: Denethor was hoping to see the Rohirrim, or some kind of good news about the war, some indication that Faramir’s death would not be in vain. But the palantir shows him that he sent his son to die for nothing.

It’s the tragedy of Denethor lamenting “I sent my son forth, unthanked, unblessed, out into needless peril” and dying before he can learn that the battle wasn’t needless… you can’t reduce this tragedy to a morality play!

Okay, I can’t deny that the palantir is a very topical analogy for the internet/smartphones/the tyranny of “data” in general.

But Denethor is so much more than a blackpilled internet doomer, and I will defend him forever.

[drdemonprince]

I’m part of a large kink group on Facebook. Like 40k+ people. I love it because people ask for help about anything and everything and members of the group are supportive and positive and it’s like “trading cookie recipe” level normal regardless of what is asked. Except like when there is obvious dubious shit going down with bad boundaries, lack of clear consent etc. people are honest and give good advice about that.

However I saw a post a few days ago that kinda stumped me. It was in response to another post that got taken down and I didn’t see it so not sure of context but basically post was about feeding fetishes. And how that OP who removed their post should not be encouraging something that is so inherently bad for someone’s health. It talked a Lot about being fat and the toll on the healthcare system and how this person should be asking why they’re attracted to that and doing some inner work. Then went on to say it is basically the Most harmful form of kink or fetish because it makes people unhealthy and then a burden on the healthcare system. It tried to come off like out of concern for people’s health and wellbeing but really just stank of fat phobia and shaming people for being into kinks that involve fat people, therefore shaming the fat people themselves.

What kinda got to me was that no one was challenging them. So I didn’t feel comfortable jumping in like maybe I’m in the wrong and this is the general consensus out there? I am fat, enjoy kink although not into the whole feeding thing personally.

The idea that someone should sit down with someone else and ask a bunch of questions about their fat kinks and why they feel this way when it’s generally accepted that even things like cnc and rapeplay etc are not questioned (because it would be weird for people to act like your therapist before wanting to fuck you) is so strange to me.

I guess their point was that feeding kinks are encouraging over eating and obesity which is bad, but other kinks could arguably be also inflicting physical pain and also reinforcing emotional distress and yet we’re not all out there trying to be doctors for each other…

I don’t know it was just weird. Wondered what your thoughts are on it.

Nah, they're full of shit and fatphobic and you can tell that by the fact they're spreading the usual concern-trolling unscientific nonsense about *besity and health. They're disgusted by fat and by the idea a person might actively want to become fat and couching it in the language of concern, replicating the exact disgust-as-morality cueing that the sex negative Puritans would against them. It's bullshit but it's incredibly commonplace. Even some fat people wring their hands against feedism/gaining/fat fetish stuff because of their own internalized respectability politics, but it's bunk, because if there's nothing wrong with loving fat people or finding them desirable, or with enjoying being fat, then there's no shame in wanting to become fat or wanting the world to have more fat people.

Feedism, gaining, fat fetishism are all great. It's great to derive sexual pleasure from being fat or being with fat partners, and it's lovely to want to become more fat. More people should do it.