#I really fucking hate experiencing being a targeted child

[jaythelay]

Imagine an entire community that doesn't know classes used to not hold 30-40 kids at a time, but only when it's convenient for them to blame the kids for not being interested in sitting still in a room for an hour listening to a bored loser give a boring presentation to everyone also bored and uninterested.

Like shit ya'll, the problem isn't the youth, it's the shitty systems we have in place, but by all means, blame the kids for operating in the same system as you. Blame these children that were born before these policy changes, for these policy changes. Thank you for reinforcing my genuine distrust and hate for teachers with that one simple trick.

They were just not dumb enough to make this their job. They fail school, and they're on the same level as everyone else, including your dumbass, a GED is useless, a diploma more so. Tell me why they should bother? When you entrap them in this pointless location, not being taught anything, just told in as dry a manner as possible, the basic facts that will be reworded on a quiz just to make it frustrating for kid's memories.

Just sayin', too many in this same community seem kind've giddy about their students getting shot up or failing in life. Hey, guess what, that student you really like? They die of a meth overdose after being homeless for 8 years when their parents kick them out at 17. Congrats on preparing them for that future by handing them the answer sheet.

It's really a good thing to switch your kid to online so they can get out sooner. I graduated at 16 in online schooling, despite being held back twice because I completely stopped doing any work, you'll never guess what abuse set that event off 2 years straight. That's right the vice principal stalking me and taking a job at the highschool I was gonna go to!

Y'see how, maybe, just maybe, it isn't that this generation of humanity is just so wildly different to every other, it's the simple fact the world is on fire, there is no future for 30yos, let alone a 15yo, no one is gonna have a family or stable income, most of us will be homeless, and your school was known for Kidz4Kash, you really think it's kids fault they fucking hate this place for wasting their One Short Life on Pointless Shit?

How many of you can seriously name a single thing school taught you. No seriously, tell me, and then tell me how your life is going, if it's going well, honest to god congrats, if it's not, that was the only expectation anyone has for everything. Youth included.

Hey, teachers, ask your students if they're doing okay, what fears they have, actually, no, that's too personal and meaningful, be Vile and Evil and ask them what they want to be when they grow up. Watch as your expecation of "astronaught!" Divebombs into "I'm hoping I can have a career online" because There's Nothing Outside Anymore. Nothing free either. No, the only hope anyone has is someone giving it to them on the internet. That's what they want to be. A positive, creative force that can make a difference socially, because Not One Student in your classrooms will Ever Be In Politics. They'll never have the necessary capital.

"It's so depressing, all my students want to be streamers!" yeah because your glorious teaching job where you hand them the answer packet and get paid less than a streamer, with less job security, looks so appetizing to a disenfranchized youth.

Behind all that bravado and grativous is a frightened, suicidal child. Eventually, someone other than their friends, and me, will get that.

I really think teachers think all their kids are school shooter stereotypes, and like, yeah, the stereotype was indeed based on the disenfranchised, depressed youth with no future or genuine compassion in their lives, alright. But now the stereotype is a white supremecist, your favorite student aka. Get with the times, old fucks.

Fuck me man. I seriously saw, back to back, comment after comment after comment, where teachers were pissed at students for failing their class, despite being given the answers to COPY PASTE BY HAND to another paper.

Ya'll... Retire without pension. Do not mention this was your career, become a bartender, move on with your life, you're not a teacher, you're a fool taking a poor paying position and being mad that you can't manipulate and control people that Do Not Have Any Reason To Care about your job.

It's like having to explain the extent of pedophilia in religion to your catholic grandmother, you're just better off not going to their thanksgiving dinners anymore for your own mental health, because jesus christ, I'd rather try and make a soccer mom let their child swear than teach a teacher...so...so much intrinsically known shit. And what do they do? Literally not their job. Not their job at all.

In fact, they're actively the worst of disenfranchisement in this country right now. Not politicians, the news, the rich, nah, top of that long list is Teachers harrassing their students and being upset that those same students make their job harder. Hey, idea, don't abuse kids, and drop the quirky redditor teacher act, you eventually mask off like a karen in the returns building anyways, or turn out to be a pedo, always one or the other.

[emo-batboy]

thoughts on battinson with his like seven kids and they have to suffer through everyone wanting to fuck him cause have you seen him??

Alright so this response kinda works in a competely separate realm of canon than what I usually post. I’m gonna preface that right now, but BOY do I have thoughts :D

So when I think of Battinson and his (non)accidental orphan acquisition, I see Battinson as being on a much more even playing field emotionally than most other iterations. He’s not really as stoic and put-together, so having kids (especially multiple) would cause a LOT more chaos and drama. So in this case, I like to think that it happens at a very rapid rate. (Again, I’m saying this because this require straying from the film’s canon to a much larger degree than I usually do.) SO by the time he’s 32, he has an 11yo Dick, a 9yo Jason, and an 8yo Tim. And they probably grow with him much like teen parents do with their kids. He’s not as authoritative as most parents. Instead, he starts out as like half older brother, half dad, then graduates to the roll of batdad after his whole vengeance era.

THAT ALL BEING SAID!! BECAUSE THEY’RE SO MUCH OLDER AND BRUCE IS YOUNGER, THEY DEAL WITH A LOOOOTTTTTT OF CREEPY LADIES TRYING GO GET WITH THEIR DAD. (AND THEY ARE VERY. SMART. FOR THEIR AGE)

Dick, older brother and the leader of the “Save Dad and Our Childhood Innocence” brigade teaches the three everything there is to know. He is the most experienced with these awful public events like galas and charity auctions, so he is in control.

And it is SO much easier to get the creepy suitors to back off when they work as a team

Dick talks everyone’s ears off. He’s the golden boy (getting perfect grades and gold medals in his school’s gymnastics team) so he EASILY gets away with distracting people

Dick will insert himself into adult conversations all the time, and Bruce always lets him, which allows Jason and Tim to wreak havoc on whatever target they chose.

Whenever it isn’t too obvious or it’s late enough in the night, Jason will fake a cold or a headache sometimes (he’s prone to falling sick) and Bruce will insist that he take his kid home and tuck him into bed himself, very fatherly

Tim uses his Youngest Child points to woo the nicer ones and direct them away from Bruce, but it doesn’t usually works on the gold diggers (and thank god because Tim HATES acting cute) so he’ll use it on Bruce instead

When those three plans don’t work, the three gremlins start getting Creative TM

Jason, taking a swig from some wine glass and proceeding to spray it all over Vicky Vale’s white dress: “This isn’t grape juice!”

Tim, resident iPad kid and (despite popular belief) The Most Evil of the Three, sees some lady touching his batdad so he finds her phone number on an online directory and prank calls her every time she gets too close

Suitor: “Your father is very handsome.” Dick: “My father’s dead :(” “…” “Oh wait, you mean Bruce! Yeah, he’s nice.”

One lady starts hanging off of Bruce, but he needs to run off to say hello to an investor. Jason appears from nowhere in his dapper little tux and the lady just says, “So uhh, you like the Wiggles, right?” Jason: “Nope! Have you ever read Crime and Punishment? :)”

Dick “accidentally” slaps some obnoxious guests with his wild hand gestures “Oh no! I’m so sorry :(( Let me get you an ice pack” and pulls them away while the other two hide their laughter

One of the ladies who is WAY too comfortable and forward when flirting with Bruce is forced to sit down with Tim and he goes in head first “what are you doing with my dad?” “oh you know what adults do, honey. Messing around, having fun” and he’s like “well My dad doesn’t look interested” “of course he is! who knows? Maybe we’ll hit it off and make another one of you one day” which gives Tim intense psychic damage, but he’s a horrible little brat so he doesn’t give up. He hits her with the innocent doe eyes and asks in the cutest fucking voice “Where do babies come from?” she BOOKS IT (they never see her again)

Anyway, to answer your question: they are little terrors. and Bruce knows they’re little terrors, but he doesn’t care because he hates the creepy attention even more than they do, but this way it comes with a show :D

[elizakai]

To the anon sending me hate messages

hi.

your real funny sweetheart

⚠️ non graphic mentions of death threats and threats of assault (not that bad)

an anonymous person insulting me isn’t going to bother me, for starters, I have no reason to value your opinion on me.

your attempts to threaten me are funny considering you have zero power over me. your delusions of grandeur when it comes to tormenting a person are

1-really inaccurate, that’s not how anatomy works buddy, even I know this. I could give you three seperate precise ways to operate that fantasy of yours off of the top of my head.

2- that’s also not how it works dear. stop watching porn <3

3-if torture had a Disney Channel equivalent. god, if your going to threaten me, at least give me some creativity. honestly. If you’re signing up to scare me, what you’re actually signing up for is to impress me, of which I was sorely disappointed.

4-your clearly either some guy who’s just hit puberty, your way older and….somehow just …ended up here because you assume I’m a child-? OR, you’re my age and hate your life.

in which case, find a new personality trait, you ain’t special

honestly have fun following through your promises, killing me when you have NO idea who I am would be pretty impressive!

I’ve experienced most of what you are trying to convince me you can do to me , in real life, funnily enough, so your going to have to try harder

you use slurs like a 12year old boy on Fortnite does the word fuck (no offense 12year old boys on Fortnite)

idk if telling me my typing is bad sounded cool to you in…the middle of the rest of your insults…..💀💀💀

but like, get it ig, I agree! Also, Your first message contained 27 mistakes grammatically, not including no spaces after comas <3

are you OK? do you need help. these are the most non-sarcastic, genuine questions of my life.

because like.

1 this is tumblr 2 I’m no one special toots

3 you don’t get any kind of clout?

4 I’m fairly certain I’ve given no reason to say any of this shit so like, do you even have a justification of ANY sort?

I’m not even some interesting target so are you too scared to do this with someone BIGGER? Despite being anonymous? You’re taking L’s left and right.

your on t u m b l r. I’m a r a n d o m person mostly sticking to a singular fandom. why don’t you get a life?

….or don’t, honestly! makes for a good laugh

[louiskechi]

alright let’s get this over with

here is a basic summary of all you could possibly need to know about me before you go starting something with me (this will be updated as i see fit)

-trans rights are human rights. this is not up for debate and is a block on sight if you disagree. same goes for black lives matter, and any other basic human rights that people somehow take offense to.

-xenogenders, lesboys/girl gays, mspec lesbians/gays, and all other non traditional or contradictory labels are valid. you can continue being angry that you aren’t allowed to fit queer people into strictly confined boxes all you want, but the long term goal of the queer movement should always be to break down restrictive labels and emphasize being who you are. this applies to neopronouns as well, obviously. all good faith identities are valid. full stop.

-transandrophobia is real. to deny that transmasculine people experience a unique type of transphobia tailored by bigots to specifically target our experiences is complacency. if you engage in hierarchical structures to organize the oppression marginalized people experience (i.e. saying things like “tme people need to shut up for once” when discussing transphobia) is reductive and only divides the community.

-self diagnosing is valid. not everyone has access to psychiatrists, let alone ones who will give a proper assessment. it’s also worth mentioning that both the medical field and the government have a lot of ingrained ableism, which can bar you from access to jobs, and can cause you to lose legal rights and bodily autonomy. (did you know getting an autism diagnosis can prevent you from getting a visa to most countries? it can even get you placed on a mandatory DNR!) accompanying this, i do not care what a system’s origin is. as a plural person, i couldn’t give less of a shit. if you say what you’re experiencing is plurality, i will believe you. trying to determine who “is and isn’t actually plural” does nothing but give fuel to those who will fake-claim us no matter how much proof we provide. you are helping divide our community and prevent mentally ill people from getting support that could save their lives.

-proshippers are annoying as fuck and i hate you all. no, you are not “just anti harassment,” in fact it’s a favorite hobby for quite a few of you. i do not identify as “anti ship” but having an integral part of your identity being that you think shipping a grown man with a child is fine tells me something about you that you somehow haven’t realized about yourselves. and no, you being a trauma survivor does not absolve you of abhorrent behavior. at this point it’s not even the content itself that worries me, it’s the relationship you people have with it. you can’t even handle the most mild criticism or discomfort about it. quit bragging about how uncomfortable you make everyone and really evaluate yourself.

-lolicon/shotacon is pedophilia. if you have some sort of objection to that you should really be looking up direct translations of the words you choose to identify yourselves with. terminology aside, no matter how much you try to insist “fiction doesn’t always effect reality,” that fictitious drawing of child rape is certainly effecting the reality of your now-erect cock. consider checking yourself before you get checked into a correctional facility.

-paraphiles deserve understanding and recovery. you are not going to eliminate things like pedophilia and zoophilia by arresting them, or worse, killing them, for feelings they can’t control. the solution to these things is easy access to therapy so they can work through those feelings and hopefully be rid of them one day, or at least no longer be a threat. most paraphiles do not want their paraphilia much less to act on them, and even those who do will not benefit from incarceration.

-the way some of you engage with fictional characters is disgusting. no, vriska serket was not a “girlboss” for telling the person she physically disabled to “apologize for being cr*ppled.” no, you do not think valentino is “just a really interesting villain” when i can see you talking about how sexy he is in the scene where he rapes the protag, followed by woobifying him and never addressing his actions at all. please get off the internet. it is genuinely disturbing the way you talk about these characters and it makes me deeply concerned about how you would act if you ever learned to shut off your computer. and yes, it is that deep.

[jechristine]

It’s crazy to me how people are still on about that Oprah interview as Meghan complaining about wearing jewelry and living in palaces. It’s like, first of all she didn’t live in the palace and she got blasted every time she wore minimal jewelry so there’s that. But also, I’m always thinking, did we watch the same interview? Where she admitted she almost killed herself and her unborn child because of media abuse? Where she said the palace took away their security and then leaked their location in Canada after they left and she begged them not to because there are people who want them dead? All as a response to being violently spoken about in media for almost five years by then? It’s insane that all some people took away from that was “she had a privileged life as a royal but then left and is now complaining about it in a pandemic where people are dying because some people were mean to her” like it’s that simple. This is in opposition to the fact that she and Harry were invited to the UN thing for Mandela (who they probably all would’ve hated when he was alive).

Anyone who knows Meghan’s story knows that she never for even one day experienced royal “perks” without accompanying racist, classist abuse. It wasn’t a ‘she liked it before she didn’t situation’ because there was no before. Harry had to put out an unprecedented letter himself, begging the media to back off the abuse, one week after their relationship was leaked in 2016. His own brother scorned Meghan and probably started leaking against her before the wedding. Another family member thought it okay to display her racism openly, tauntingly, in Meghan’s presence by wearing racist jewelry. People think of the British royals as the top of the food pyramid, but really Meghan would have done better to fall in love with some lesser, run-of-the-mill aristocrat or just some nouveau riche person that didn’t require she be thrust onto the international stage with a target on her back to perform like a trained pet. She herself was already a self-made millionaire when we met Harry, and her relocation from her Toronto house to Harry’s 2-bedroom “NotCot” was a downsizing. If people think wearing dresses in the BRF is fun, they did not watch the tabloids scrutinize every way she was “breaking protocol” (a mantra seemingly reserved for Meghan) or supposedly humiliating herself with the wrong hat or whatever the fuck every time she left the house, which ended up not being too much because she was supposedly “overexposed” just existing (i.e. overshadowing Kate Middleton). If she wanted anything from her Royal position it was, as I blogged earlier, to get a bigger platform to use for as much good as she could. And she continues to use it for that more effectively now anyway.

But Meghan is important too because she is a symbol for how how non-white, non-aristocratics are regarded when they get close to the family that for better or worse still represents Britishness to Britain and to the world, as their chief function. Not well.

Anyhow Mandela’s family and Foundation invited Harry to speak today, so they obviously think his work and support is valuable. So who cares what ignorant people think.

[diggersofgraves]

fucking hate when someone calls out other ppl for appropriating latino culture or making fun of some aspect of it. and then in comes some random ass latino, "we dont care abt this, we're laughing with them, we're not sensitive 🙄"

bitch First of all, stand the fuck up for yourself. they made a fucking joke at ur expense and they continuously do it and u wanna laugh with them 🥺

and its not just at ur expense. its at the expense of ur parents. siblings. friends?? if as a latino you've never experienced aggressions or had ppl already decided ur not trustworthy or speak to you like a child bc they assume u dont speak english or call you names or have police target ur dad and push him around when he's just walking or claiming that ur mom had drugs on her on a random ass stop bc for what fucking reason, idk, but it fucking happens or getting referred to as "you people" constantly paired with just an awful assumption abt "you ppl" or bullied for an accent ir not speaking english.

thats great for you. im really glad you didnt have to deal with that, specifically if u grew up in the US, but honestly, anywhere else where these might present as problems.

but this whole "latinos aren't sensitive 🥺 not like other ppl" shut up shut up shut up

BC the Second thing im talking abt is the fucking rude ass implications always attached to that fucking statement. these people always bring up "being sensitive" and "other people". underhandedly undermining the progress and valid statements and concerns and violence brought up by other racial and ethnic minorities. theyre speaking out abt their experiences and the unfairness of it and in comes this fucking guy, claiming its ppl being sensitive and they can't take a joke, but he can so he's better and he's different. YOU HEAR THAT, WHITE PPL??? HE'S DIFFERENT!! YOU GOT THAT?? UR SURE??

literally fuck you dude, you'd rather laugh next to an oppressor than the black, brown, or indigenous person who's speaking abt the endless struggles that the oppressor ur standing next to causes that makes their lives difficult and, many times, dangerous. good job, ur just like them now, im pretty sure thats what u want? like genuinely, thats what u want?? did they choose u??

and yeah, Third, bc despite the fact that its not obviously there sometimes, the fucking anti-blackness/racism in these statements and occurrences and within the community as a whole. your experiences as a white latino or even as "mestizo" (i dont particularly like using that word to describe myself or others bc of its roots in the spanish caste system, but I don't have a better word, if anyone can help out there, I'd appreciate it very much <3) dont encompass all latino experience within the US OR within the country your family might have immigrated from. talk to your fellow afro latinos and indigenous members of the community. even if you're dont experience any struggles to speak abt, if ur families doesnt, listen to other people in ur community and be a fucking ally. fucking idiot

my Fourth and probably final point is documentation status within the US. if u came into the US with documents, if u were born in the US, etc etc. thats privilege baby. i guarantee you ur experiences as a documented latino is going to be different than the experiences as an undocumented latino.

there are resources you can reach when ur a citizen that are unavailable to undocumented ppl. and not just latinos in this case, i mean from all over the world, but especially if ur a racial/ethnic minority in the US.

my mom came to the US undocumented. she was getting that shit ready when my family had a fallout and we became homeless. the fucking. obstacle's she had to go through to access resources were fucking crazy. many many times they didn't want to offer these resources to her or us simply based on her undocumented status. many many assumptions were made abt her and our family. she was taken advantage of in jobs and programs.

the problems didnt exactly stop when she finally became a resident, but that weight was so so so much lighter on her after that. we finally had access to resources they refused her before and things became much easier.

I know that as someone who was born in the US, im already less likely to face such events that my mom did. that's privilege already.

if u go to or went to a majority latino school, there might be a chance that there are students who recently came from latin america, maybe within the last year or few months or weeks (my hs school had new students come in every couple of months). pay attention to how they're treated. not just by students, but by the staff. there is discrimination going on there. teachers might make little comments, call them lazy, stupid. its not funny. speak up for them. these teachers are making nasty comments in english when the students usually dont grasp the language so well yet, they JUST moved there. if you dont need to speak up for yourself, fine, speak up for others.

making jokes out of latino struggles reinforces stereotypes and its not you on the bad end of them bc ur laughing with the white man on the otherside. but there are still members from ur own community that might fit some of the stereotypes (bc ur reinforcing these stereotypes by making fun of the CULTURE, our actual way of life) and thats enough for some racist or xenophobic asshole to grasp onto and make a persons day or life a little shittier.

ur not the only person in ur community. there are actually communities out there, latino ppl who speak up on the issues ur laughing abt. in laughing with the oppressor, ur undermining ur community. fuck off dude, fr.

[missmentelle]

Why Smart People Believe Stupid Things

If you’ve been paying attention for the last couple of years, you might have noticed that the world has a bit of a misinformation problem. 

The problem isn’t just with the recent election conspiracies, either. The last couple of years has brought us the rise (and occasionally fall) of misinformation-based movements like:

Sandy Hook conspiracies

Gamergate

Pizzagate

The MRA/incel/MGTOW movements

anti-vaxxers

flat-earthers

the birther movement

the Illuminati 

climate change denial

Spygate

Holocaust denial 

COVID-19 denial 

5G panic 

QAnon 

But why do people believe this stuff?

It would be easy - too easy - to say that people fall for this stuff because they’re stupid. We all want to believe that smart people like us are immune from being taken in by deranged conspiracies. But it’s just not that simple. People from all walks of life are going down these rabbit holes - people with degrees and professional careers and rich lives have fallen for these theories, leaving their loved ones baffled. Decades-long relationships have splintered this year, as the number of people flocking to these conspiracies out of nowhere reaches a fever pitch. 

So why do smart people start believing some incredibly stupid things? It’s because:

Our brains are built to identify patterns. 

Our brains fucking love puzzles and patterns. This is a well-known phenomenon called apophenia, and at one point, it was probably helpful for our survival - the prehistoric human who noticed patterns in things like animal migration, plant life cycles and the movement of the stars was probably a lot more likely to survive than the human who couldn’t figure out how to use natural clues to navigate or find food. 

The problem, though, is that we can’t really turn this off. Even when we’re presented with completely random data, we’ll see patterns. We see patterns in everything, even when there’s no pattern there. This is why people see Jesus in a burnt piece of toast or get superstitious about hockey playoffs or insist on always playing at a certain slot machine - our brains look for patterns in the constant barrage of random information in our daily lives, and insist that those patterns are really there, even when they’re completely imagined. 

A lot of conspiracy theories have their roots in people making connections between things that aren’t really connected. The belief that “vaccines cause autism” was bolstered by the fact that the first recognizable symptoms of autism happen to appear at roughly the same time that children receive one of their rounds of childhood immunizations - the two things are completely unconnected, but our brains have a hard time letting go of the pattern they see there. Likewise, many people were quick to latch on to the fact that early maps of COVID infections were extremely similar to maps of 5G coverage -  the fact that there’s a reasonable explanation for this (major cities are more likely to have both high COVID cases AND 5G networks) doesn’t change the fact that our brains just really, really want to see a connection there. 

Our brains love proportionality. 

Specifically, our brains like effects to be directly proportional to their causes - in other words, we like it when big events have big causes, and small causes only lead to small events. It’s uncomfortable for us when the reverse is true. And so anytime we feel like a “big” event (celebrity death, global pandemic, your precious child is diagnosed with autism) has a small or unsatisfying cause (car accident, pandemics just sort of happen every few decades, people just get autism sometimes), we sometimes feel the need to start looking around for the bigger, more sinister, “true” cause of that event. 

Consider, for instance, the attempted assassination of Pope John Paul II. In 1981, Pope John Paul II was shot four times by a Turkish member of a known Italian paramilitary secret society who’d recently escaped from prison - on the surface, it seems like the sort of thing conspiracy theorists salivate over, seeing how it was an actual multinational conspiracy. But they never had much interest in the assassination attempt. Why? Because the Pope didn’t die. He recovered from his injuries and went right back to Pope-ing. The event didn’t have a serious outcome, and so people are content with the idea that one extremist carried it out. The death of Princess Diana, however, has been fertile ground for conspiracy theories; even though a woman dying in a car accident is less weird than a man being shot four times by a paid political assassin, her death has attracted more conspiracy theories because it had a bigger outcome. A princess dying in a car accident doesn’t feel big enough. It’s unsatisfying. We want such a monumentous moment in history to have a bigger, more interesting cause. 

These theories prey on pre-existing fear and anger. 

Are you a terrified new parent who wants the best for their child and feels anxious about having them injected with a substance you don’t totally understand? Congrats, you’re a prime target for the anti-vaccine movement. Are you a young white male who doesn’t like seeing more and more games aimed at women and minorities, and is worried that “your” gaming culture is being stolen from you? You might have been very interested in something called Gamergate. Are you a right-wing white person who worries that “your” country and way of life is being stolen by immigrants, non-Christians and coastal liberals? You’re going to love the “all left-wingers are Satantic pedo baby-eaters” messaging of QAnon. 

Misinformation and conspiracy theories are often aimed strategically at the anxieties and fears that people are already experiencing. No one likes being told that their fears are insane or irrational; it’s not hard to see why people gravitate towards communities that say “yes, you were right all along, and everyone who told you that you were nuts to be worried about this is just a dumb sheep. We believe you, and we have evidence that you were right along, right here.” Fear is a powerful motivator, and you can make people believe and do some pretty extreme things if you just keep telling them “yes, that thing you’re afraid of is true, but also it’s way worse than you could have ever imagined.”

Real information is often complicated, hard to understand, and inherently unsatisfying. 

The information that comes from the scientific community is often very frustrating for a layperson; we want science to have hard-and-fast answers, but it doesn’t. The closest you get to a straight answer is often “it depends” or “we don’t know, but we think X might be likely”. Understanding the results of a scientific study with any confidence requires knowing about sampling practices, error types, effect sizes, confidence intervals and publishing biases. Even asking a simple question like “is X bad for my child” will usually get you a complicated, uncertain answer - in most cases, it really just depends. Not understanding complex topics makes people afraid - it makes it hard to trust that they’re being given the right information, and that they’re making the right choices. 

Conspiracy theories and misinformation, on the other hand, are often simple, and they are certain. Vaccines bad. Natural things good. 5G bad. Organic food good. The reason girls won’t date you isn’t a complex combination of your social skills, hygiene, appearance, projected values, personal circumstances, degree of extroversion, luck and life phase - girls won’t date you because feminism is bad, and if we got rid of feminism you��d have a girlfriend. The reason Donald Trump was an unpopular president wasn’t a complex combination of his public bigotry, lack of decorum, lack of qualifications, open incompetence, nepotism, corruption, loss of soft power, refusal to uphold the basic responsibilities of his position or his constant lying - they hated him because he was fighting a secret sex cult and they’re all in it. 

Instead of making you feel stupid because you’re overwhelmed with complex information, expert opinions and uncertain advice, conspiracy theories make you feel smart - smarter, in fact, than everyone who doesn’t believe in them. And that’s a powerful thing for people living in a credential-heavy world. 

Many conspiracy theories are unfalsifiable. 

It is very difficult to prove a negative. If I tell you, for instance, that there’s no such thing as a purple swan, it would be very difficult for me to actually prove that to you - I could spend the rest of my life photographing swans and looking for swans and talking to people who know a lot about swans, and yet the slim possibility would still exist that there was a purple swan out there somewhere that I just hadn’t found yet. That’s why, in most circumstances, the burden of proof lies with the person making the extraordinary claim - if you tell me that purple swans exist, we should continue to assume that they don’t until you actually produce a purple swan. 

Conspiracy theories, however, are built so that it’s nearly impossible to “prove” them wrong. Is there any proof that the world’s top-ranking politicians and celebrities are all in a giant child sex trafficking cult? No. But can you prove that they aren’t in a child sex-trafficking cult? No, not really. Even if I, again, spent the rest of my life investigating celebrities and following celebrities and talking to people who know celebrities, I still couldn’t definitely prove that this cult doesn’t exist - there’s always a chance that the specific celebrities I’ve investigated just aren’t in the cult (but other ones are!) or that they’re hiding evidence of the cult even better than we think. Lack of evidence for a conspiracy theory is always treated as more evidence for the theory - we can’t find anything because this goes even higher up than we think! They’re even more sophisticated at hiding this than we thought! People deeply entrenched in these theories don’t even realize that they are stuck in a circular loop where everything seems to prove their theory right - they just see a mountain of “evidence” for their side. 

Our brains are very attached to information that we “learned” by ourselves.

Learning accurate information is not a particularly interactive or exciting experience. An expert or reliable source just presents the information to you in its entirety, you read or watch the information, and that’s the end of it. You can look for more information or look for clarification of something, but it’s a one-way street - the information is just laid out for you, you take what you need, end of story. 

Conspiracy theories, on the other hand, almost never show their hand all at once. They drop little breadcrumbs of information that slowly lead you where they want you to go. This is why conspiracy theorists are forever telling you to “do your research” - they know that if they tell you everything at once, you won’t believe them. Instead, they want you to indoctrinate yourself slowly over time, by taking the little hints they give you and running off to find or invent evidence that matches that clue. If I tell you that celebrities often wear symbols that identify them as part of a cult and that you should “do your research” about it, you can absolutely find evidence that substantiates my claim - there are literally millions of photos of celebrities out there, and anyone who looks hard enough is guaranteed to find common shapes, poses and themes that might just mean something (they don’t - eyes and triangles are incredibly common design elements, and if I took enough pictures of you, I could also “prove” that you also clearly display symbols that signal you’re in the cult). 

The fact that you “found” the evidence on your own, however, makes it more meaningful to you. We trust ourselves, and we trust that the patterns we uncover by ourselves are true. It doesn’t feel like you’re being fed misinformation - it feels like you’ve discovered an important truth that “they” didn’t want you to find, and you’ll hang onto that for dear life. 

Older people have not learned to be media-literate in a digital world. 

Fifty years ago, not just anyone could access popular media. All of this stuff had a huge barrier to entry - if you wanted to be on TV or be in the papers or have a radio show, you had to be a professional affiliated with a major media brand. Consumers didn’t have easy access to niche communities or alternative information - your sources of information were basically your local paper, the nightly news, and your morning radio show, and they all more or less agreed on the same set of facts. For decades, if it looked official and it appeared in print, you could probably trust that it was true. 

Of course, we live in a very different world today - today, any asshole can accumulate an audience of millions, even if they have no credentials and nothing they say is actually true (like “The Food Babe”, a blogger with no credentials in medicine, nutrition, health sciences, biology or chemistry who peddles health misinformation to the 3 million people who visit her blog every month). It’s very tough for older people (and some younger people) to get their heads around the fact that it’s very easy to create an “official-looking” news source, and that they can’t necessarily trust everything they find on the internet. When you combine that with a tendency toward “clickbait headlines” that often misrepresent the information in the article, you have a generation struggling to determine who they can trust in a media landscape that doesn’t at all resemble the media landscape they once knew. 

These beliefs become a part of someone’s identity. 

A person doesn’t tell you that they believe in anti-vaxx information - they tell you that they ARE an anti-vaxxer. Likewise, people will tell you that they ARE a flat-earther, a birther, or a Gamergater. By design, these beliefs are not meant to be something you have a casual relationship with, like your opinion of pizza toppings or how much you trust local weather forecasts - they are meant to form a core part of your identity. 

And once something becomes a core part of your identity, trying to make you stop believing it becomes almost impossible. Once we’ve formed an initial impression of something, facts just don’t change our minds. If you identify as an antivaxxer and I present evidence that disproves your beliefs, in your mind, I’m not correcting inaccurate information - I am launching a very personal attack against a core part of who you are. In fact, the more evidence I present, the more you will burrow down into your antivaxx beliefs, more confident than ever that you are right. Admitting that you are wrong about something that is important to you is painful, and your brain would prefer to simply deflect conflicting information rather than subject you to that pain.

We can see this at work with something called the confirmation bias. Simply put, once we believe something, our brains hold on to all evidence that that belief is true, and ignore evidence that it’s false. If I show you 100 articles that disprove your pet theory and 3 articles that confirm it, you’ll cling to those 3 articles and forget about the rest. Even if I show you nothing but articles that disprove your theory, you’ll likely go through them and pick out any ambiguous or conflicting information as evidence for “your side”, even if the conclusion of the article shows that you are wrong - our brains simply care about feeling right more than they care about what is actually true.  

There is a strong community aspect to these theories. 

There is no one quite as supportive or as understanding as a conspiracy theorist - provided, of course, that you believe in the same conspiracy theories that they do. People who start looking into these conspiracy theories are told that they aren’t crazy, and that their fears are totally valid. They’re told that the people in their lives who doubted them were just brainwashed sheep, but that they’ve finally found a community of people who get where they’re coming from. Whenever they report back to the group with the “evidence” they’ve found or the new elaborations on the conspiracy theory that they’ve been thinking of (“what if it’s even worse than we thought??”), they are given praise for their valuable contributions. These conspiracy groups often become important parts of people’s social networks - they can spend hours every day talking with like-minded people from these communities and sharing their ideas. 

Of course, the flipside of this is that anyone who starts to doubt or move away from the conspiracy immediately loses that community and social support. People who have broken away from antivaxx and QAnon often say that the hardest part of leaving was losing the community and friendships they’d built - not necessarily giving up on the theory itself. Many people are rejected by their real-life friends and family once they start to get entrenched in conspiracy theories; the friendships they build online in the course of researching these theories often become the only social supports they have left, and losing those supports means having no one to turn to at all. This is by design - the threat of losing your community has kept people trapped in abusive religious sects and cults for as long as those things have existed. 

[phoenixyfriend]

Fact: Obi-Wan, at least in Legends, was a war general at age thirteen, leading children in the single digits into battle, burying other child soldiers, experiencing the full horror of war before he was old enough to shave, and without adult protection or his primary weapon.

Caveat: This adventure, and many others in the series, was structured in a manner appealing to the target audience: twelve-year-olds seeking a character they could project onto, a hero they could pretend to be without having to deal with an adult keeping them out of the action. Due to the series being designed with that in mind, the relation these series have with actual canon, even before Legends was retconned out, is generally assumed to be tenuous at the best of times.

Fact: Satine grew up in a civil war and her decision to become a pacifist at the head of the New Mandalorians is heavily informed by the violence that she and her people experienced for so long, including a year spent dodging assassination at every turn with Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon Jinn.

Assumption: Satine regularly uses 'no more too-small bodies dead in our streets' as one of her most heartfelt pieces of rhetoric, as a thing that is both far too real to her and the most relatable to a wide audience, since it is an extreme but also a reality, and thus something that centrists and even some traditionalists can agree with, not just the liberal reform party that she belongs to.

Conclusion: Part of why Obi-Wan fell in love with Satine is because he lived through the exact kind of horror that she was trying to prevent, and she related to his traumas (if from a greater distance, having been nobility) and treated them with the appropriate gravitas. He was a child soldier in a civil war, and the core of her political platform is preventing wars, both civil and imperial, that could escalate to such a point of senseless violence as Melida/Daan. While Obi-Wan continues to engage in violence as self-defense and in defense of others, his respect for Satine's political views is actually greater than it would be for almost anyone else he knows (except maybe Bail Organa), and his actions of violence as a Jedi attempting to prevent harm in contrast to her refusal to engage in anything but the absolute most minor acts of violence (e.g. throwing a rock at someone's blaster hand, stun bolts, etc) is actually a relatively minor quibble when seen in the light of how the two of them likely bonded over their similar sets of traumas and ideological ideals as teenagers born of war.

Addendum: Satine must have felt really fucking betrayed that Obi-Wan had gone from 'using violence in a short period of time to prevent greater acts of violence or even genocide, as part of his duties as a Jedi protecting the weak' to 'war general leading a slave army in a conflict that seems incredibly pointless from the outside, even before you know about the Sith stuff.' They bonded over being children in warzones who'd grown up wanting wars to not happen! This isn't Satine looking the other way as Obi-Wan helps back up a slave revolution, this is just! The kind of stupid war they said they hated! Drafted or not, she feels hurt and betrayed that Obi-Wan's in this situation.

Addendum to the addendum: I think Satine would have been less judgemental about Obi-Wan's position if she'd known about some of the truly horrific acts the Separatist side was committing (e.g. Blue Shadow Virus, the WMD in Aayla's episode with the monkey people, the 'round up the villagers as human shields and take everything they have of any value also maybe let's sell a bunch of them'), and Obi-Wan's feelings of obligation towards preventing that even if the larger conflict wasn't necessarily something he agreed with.

[makeste]

I really liked this newest chapter. But the question that remains is that even if Deku is somehow able to save Tomura, won't the population want to seek vengeance on Tomura? i always found this to be one of the most despicable parts of AFO's design because even if Tomura had somehow realized how destructive his path is and how he's been manipulated, I don't see how he could turn back. He was a wanted terrorist since USJ and his body count has just been growing.

okay so first off, Tomura has become one of my favorite characters and so I have a very forgiving outlook toward him. but I also understand that like it or not, the damage has already been done, and there are obviously going to be serious consequences for destroying a city and murdering countless people (on top of all the other things he’s done already). obviously he’s not going to get off scot free for all of that, nor should he.

on the other hand, here’s the dilemma for me. I firmly believe in people taking responsibility for their actions, but Tomura’s case presents a quandary, because when someone’s choices are being manipulated by another party, are they really still their choices? is it still free will when every decision you think you’re making is in reality being directed by someone else’s hand as surely as a piece on a chessboard? or the player character in a video game? and it’s been that way since you were a child?

to put this another way, someone needs to be held accountable here, but I’m not convinced it’s him. like, this goes beyond even the “I was just following orders” argument, because Tomura was literally groomed since childhood to ensure that he would never do anything but follow those orders. in fact, he’s been groomed to the extent where he believes this is truly what he wants. but the reality of it is that literally everything Tomura is and everything he’s ever done is because of AFO’s direct interference.

AFO killed Nana and targeted her family, which directly led to Kotarou’s trauma, which resulted in him becoming a shitty abusive dad because no one in the BnHA universe ever goes to therapy

AFO almost certainly gave Tenko the Decay quirk (I have another post in the works about this so I won’t go into lengthy detail right now. but in my mind this is almost a certainty)

AFO also most likely interfered to prevent anyone else from coming to Tenko’s rescue before him (you won’t convince me that this was just a coincidence)

AFO literally forced Tenko to hold onto his pain and anguish and trauma, adorned him in his own dead family’s body parts, and gaslit him into believing that he had an uncontrollable urge to destroy things and kill people

lastly, AFO expertly manipulated Tenko into believing that hero society was to blame for all of his suffering, when in reality every single trauma that he’s experienced can be directly traced back to AFO

basically this kid was targeted and kidnapped and forced to become a murderer. there’s no other way to put it imo. his life was completely destroyed. and so as far as I’m concerned, the story’s ending can’t be completely satisfying unless Tomura/Tenko, as the person who’s actually suffered the most because of AFO, also gets some kind of justice for what happened to him.

and him going to jail for life, or being executed or whatever, just doesn’t feel like justice to me in this case. hence my dilemma. because the people that Tomura has hurt and killed deserve justice too. so there’s the conundrum -- we have a murderer who’s also a victim. so no matter what happens in the end, someone (read: Tomura) is either going to get off easy, or receive a punishment that they haven’t fully earned.

basically there is no perfect happy ending here. but once we accept that, there are a few “good” endings which I could see playing out. one is the Darth Vader Ending, in which Tomura turns on AFO (the fact that he still doesn’t know the extent of AFO’s involvement in his dead family extravaganza is a huge factor in his potential redemption, imo -- if/when he finds out, that will probably be the moment of truth), and battles him alongside Deku, possibly sacrificing his life to help finally defeat AFO for good. his crimes are atoned for by his death, he breaks free of AFO’s will, and he’s ultimately granted peace of a sort. on the other hand, that ending is also tragic af and I kind of hate it, ngl. AFO tortures him his whole life and then he fucking dies -- that’s one hell of a “sucks to be you” storyline for such an important character.

another possibility is an ending where, after Tomura switches sides and helps defeat AFO, Deku and a few of the others “accidentally” let him and the rest of the LoV escape. very unfortunate. we turned our back for two seconds and they managed to give us the slip. we’re very sorry, you know how it is, etc. etc. this would be the Indulgent Ending, so named because it’s extremely unrealistic, and also everything I want. it basically consists of everyone living happily ever after because I want them to, goddammit. basically Tomura and the League ride off in the sunset to lead a life of harmless crime, and also Tomura gets another dog, just because. as for Tomura’s victims, they get their justice with AFO’s death, without Tenko having to be sacrificed as yet another victim.

and lastly, there’s always the possibility of a Downer Ending in which it turns out Tomura really is too far gone and can’t be saved. Deku still defeats AFO, but Tomura dies having never broken free of AFO’s control. I would absolutely hate this ending, as it is in no way satisfactory and basically constitutes a victory for AFO, since it would mean his philosophy triumphing over his brother’s. fortunately, this is also the least likely ending imo, because it would go against the very core of the story. as the First put it, “get it, Brother? the villain... always loses in the end.” otherwise what the hell has this all even been for?

anyway, so those are some of my thoughts. it is a very complicated situation, and in the end I’ll probably accept just about any kind of ending except for that last one that I mentioned. but I’m with Deku on this one.

[astralkoo]

the huntress | jungkook (teaser)

Pairing: jungkook x (f.) reader

Genre: werewolf au, hunter au, action, thriller, angst, fluff, smut

Rating: 18+ (graphic violence / explicit sexual content)

Estimated Final Word Count: 15-20k??? Maybe more bc it’s already at 7.4k and I haven’t even fully hit on the main plot yikes

Teaser Word Count: 1,780

Summary: You are a hunter. You are a protector. And you are a killer. These are simple facts. Facts that have been drilled into your head since you were a child. These facts are all that you know, all that you can rely on when the world around you is constantly changing. But, what can you do when one of the very creatures you’ve been taught to hunt, taught to kill, taught to hate makes you question everything you once believed?

Warnings: explicit language, descriptions of blood, graphic violence, death, killing/murder, jk is kept in a cage, panic attack, betrayal, sad jk, explicit sexual content; sex in a lake, unprotected sex (please be safe!!), sub!jungkook, dom!reader, virgin!jungkook, lots of whining, light dirty talk, hand job, fingering, jk has a kissing kink, oral (f. receiving), biting, reader calls jk puppy (all warnings are subject to change)

Release Date: TBD

A/N ; ah shit here we go. she’s been coming along pretty smoothly, so I thought it was the right time put the teaser out for you guys! I’m really excited to get the full fic posted and hopefully it won’t be too far in the future, but with my track record... I can make no guarantees. thank you for 1.4K followers!! I hope you enjoy!

You felt it building in your chest, swelling into something large and uncontainable. The sensation creeping up your throat, filling the back of your mouth and forcing open your jaws. Tears sprung to the corners of your eyes and your dry lips strained as they stretched open, the monstrous yawn finally breaking free.

Fuck. You are so tired.

It had been an exhausting day to begin with and of course, with your luck, it was your turn to take the night watch.

Around you, the forest was alive: crickets and cicadas singing lazy songs, the warm summer breeze rustling through the leaves, the waning moon casting a cool silver glow over the sleeping earth. Beside you, the dying remains of a bonfire flickers and spits blazing embers, choking and fading with every gust of wind. The darkness is slowly closing in, the eerie shadows of the surrounding trees creeping closer and closer with every passing minute.

Gravity pulled at your eyelids, the sweet lure of sleep all too tempting.

Crack.

You shot upright, eyes wide and alert, ears straining. It was too dark to see past the outer layer of trees, and a heavy silence followed, only remedied by the soft crackling of the singed wood. There’s a familiar prickle under your skin, the hairs on the back of your neck standing on end. It’s dark, but you don’t need to see to know that there is something out there. Call it a self-made sixth sense if you will, something you’ve developed and trained into perfection over the course of many years.

Instinctively, your fingers reached for your bow. The sleek black metal scraped against the large stone it was propped up on as you swiftly and silently fall into position. Unsheathing an arrow from the leather quiver, you pull it back against the string until you feel that perfect tension. The side of your thumb caresses the cool skin of your cheek, and you close one eye, honing in on the dark tree line.

Come on. Give me a reason.

But you’re only rewarded with silence.

After a few tense moments, you slowly lowered your weapon, brow twitching in irritation.

“Get a grip, y/n.” You grumbled roughly.

You were on edge. It’s understandable; you were in completely unfamiliar territory, with no reliable knowledge of the land or its inhabitants to lean back on. The knowledge which you did have, however (that being the knowledge that the nearby town had been getting ravaged by a bloodthirsty beast under the cover of nightfall), didn’t ease the tension in your shoulders in the slightest.

After all, that was the whole reason for your troop’s relocation.

A little over three weeks ago, the head of your troop received a letter from a desperate mayor, pleading for your help. They had a problem. Almost every night for the past month, towns people that wandered the streets late into the evening when the sun had set behind the hills and the moon had risen past the horizon, whether it be walking home from a long day of work or going for an evening jog when the summer heat wasn’t so unbearable, had been getting killed. No, not killed— slaughtered.

You’d seen the pictures.

No human being was capable of doing what had been done to those people.

Ergo, the exigency for your troop’s presence.

This town didn’t need cops, they didn’t need police or detectives searching for some rampant serial killer. What they needed were hunters. More specifically, werewolf hunters. Which is precisely what you were. ‘Slayers of the Supernatural’, some might say. Your job was simple: find the murderous creature responsible for the bloody deaths of thirty seven innocent civilians, and eliminate the problem, once and for all. Pretty cut and dry when you think about it.

And for a troop as skilled and experienced as yours, finding and ending this bloodthirsty beast should be a cinch.

But, that didn’t make sitting out, so painfully alone in the dark of night with a killer werewolf on the loose any less unnerving.

Now, you weren’t afraid of the monster itself, you’d held your own against its kind and worse plenty of times in the past. No, it was the deafening silence that was most disquieting. The stillness. The lack of happening. It set you on edge, made it feel like you had to hold your breath to get the slightest idea of what was going on around you. The wait had always been your least favorite part of the hunt, despite it being one of the most vital.

You’ll admit, you can be impatient. It was your most notable cause of failure back in your training days and in some of your earlier hunts. But you’ve gotten better, become capable of capping your overzealous antics, improved in terms of self restraint. Though, you’d still much rather be in the heart of the action than sitting on the sidelines and waiting with buzzing anticipation nipping at your heels.

Exhaling heavily, you slumped back onto the ground, exhaustion quickly seeping back into your sore muscles once the brief flush of adrenaline drained from your system.

Then you heard the rustling of leaves. But this— it was different from the sound made when the breeze wisps through them. There was a certain force to it, a heaviness in the way the branches clicked and the leaves crunched. It was the sound of a body moving through the heavy foliage. A large animal? Maybe. Or perhaps it was something else entirely. Not human. Not an animal. But something in between.

Your hand was around the grip of your bow in less than a second, body swiftly falling into a low crouch.

It was dark. But the moon spilled just enough light over the forest for you to catch a glimpse of a silhouette: a tall, dark shape moving slowly through the brush. You had your mark. Now you just needed a reason to loose your arrow.

Never strike without absolute certainty that you have your eye on the right target. That’s what Junmyeon always drilled into your head during training after you attacked too early and without proper understanding of who (the dummy representing an innocent civilian, in such cases) you’d been aiming at. Because if you somehow mistook an innocent for one of the beasts you hunt— it was a thought you didn’t want to so much as consider.

Teeth gritting, you carefully followed the shadowy figure, feet shifting silently across the dirt. Suddenly, your boot clad toe suddenly knocked a pebble, sending it skittering across the ground. You froze, and so did the silhouette. Then its head whipped in your direction, and the very second you saw the flash of two unmistakable red eyes, your fingers released the taut string, sending the arrow whizzing into the tree line.

A shriek of agony ripped through the calm night air. The figure staggered, doubling over, before quickly righting itself and whirling around, taking off into the dense, black forest.

You didn’t let so much as a fraction of a second pass before you launched yourself off the dirt ground and bolted into the woods after the creature, a delicious combination of red hot adrenaline and childlike excitement immediately consuming you. It was this— this feeling, this exhilaration that you lived for. That you hunted for. It drove you in ways nothing else ever had. The combination of blood rushing through your veins and your heart thundering in your ears created an almost euphoric sensation. It was a high, thrilling and electrifying. But perhaps those weren’t quite the right words to describe it.

Maybe it was the fact that for these moments as you were rushing through the brush, low branches slicing at your arms and face, cool wind winding through your hair, you could clear your mind and focus only on this one thing, on putting every ounce of your energy into this one moment to accomplish this one feat. There wasn’t— there couldn’t be a single invading thought, doubt, concern. There was nothing but boiling determination, molten in your bloodstream.

Ahead of you, the creature rushed frantically through the dense forest, weaving and staggering around the bulging trunks of towering trees. It was trying to lose you. But you excelled when it came to the chase. The fact that it was wounded also helped; the dark red blood stained the leaves and mossy earth, leaving a clear path for you to follow.

You were catching up, the distance between you and it growing smaller and smaller with each moment. You could hear the creature's heavy footfalls, the crunching of leaves and snapping of twigs. Within a few strides, you were within arms distance. If you were to reach out your hand—

Just as your fingertips grazed its back, you broke through the tree line. The creature, caught off guard, stumbled. A fatal mistake. Before it had a chance to recover, you rammed your shoulder into its back, directly between its shoulder blades, sending it stumbling forward with a stunned yelp. You hadn’t even noticed the massive body of water until he fell into it. Always be aware of your surroundings, you reminded yourself sharply, before honing in on your target. The water, reflecting the night sky like a mirror, rippled and spat around the form of the creature as it attempted to scramble away from you. But you didn’t let it get far.

You thrust yourself on top of him, pinning his kicking legs down with your own and making a grab for his flailing arms. A sharp hiss rushed past your teeth when you felt something slice into your arm, but you paid no heed to the warm, familiar trickle of blood. It only fueled the roaring fire of determination inside of you further. He was bucking up, thrashing wildly, trying to throw you off, but you held fast, angling yourself in such a way that you had the upper hand. Icy water splashed across your face, seeping into your clothes as you used all your strength to keep him down. But it wasn’t easy fighting a werewolf with your bare hands. Not even a wounded one. And you were quickly growing sick of feeling the piercing sting of his claws cutting through your clothes and biting into your skin.

In one swift motion, you unsheathed the silver blade hidden in a pouch sewn into the inside of your boot. Every muscle in his body froze up at the feeling of cold metal pressing threateningly against his vulnerable throat.

Panting through clenched teeth, you pinned him with a chilling glare.

“Give me one reason why I shouldn’t slit your throat.”

[sharknadoslutt]

Not that I ever wanted to watch it because of the era it plays in, but what was so awful about Star Wars resistance?

Oh Okay this ask got me GOING so Welcome to my Tedtalk on my feelings on Star Wars Resistance; a story of Disappointment.

So Mr. Dave Filoni, the story telling Prince, left the show like halfway through production of the first season for other projects (For TCW season 7 and The Mandalorian). This left what was a promising show with characters Dave himself had created, in the hands of very inexperienced story board artist and writers. Personally, I think they panicked and half assed it so that Disney could make money on toys. Because.. idk. It just doesn't even come close to the emotional story arcs that TCW and Rebels gave us. and that's what Star Wars is supposed to be about. Changing for the better. Hope or some shit, am I right?

What was most disappointing in my opinion.. is that the protagonist, Kazudo Xiono, is UNBEARABLE. He is the EMBODIEMENT of privilege. This punk has had everything handed down to him from the moment he was born. He was born like 14 years after the Empire has been brought down and the New Republic reigns, so he has never known war. AND HIS DADDY IS THE SENATOR OF HOSNIAN PRIME FOR FUCKS SAKE! THE CAPITOL????? WHERE THE SENATE IS???? YOU KNOW HOW RICH THAT MUST MAKE HIs FaMiLY??? His dad literally gives him an allowance even though he is a grown ass man in the military when the show starts.

To put things into perspective for those not up to date on Sequel Era Lore and I envy you greatly tbh bcs not to be that person i do not like the sequels that's the equivalent of being the Senator of Coruscant in the Prequels!!!!

Not to mention he is a BUMBLING idiot. Like. This man has ADHD on steroids. As a person with ADHD it's.. lord, it's cringe. He is clumsy. He is loud. He says inappropriate things at the wrong time. He doesn't know how to do anything for himself. AND HE IS SUPPOSED TO BE A SPY FOR THE RESISTANCE UNDER COVER AS A MECHANIC???? HE KNOWS NOTHING ABOUT MECHANICS and really doesn't really learn anything about it by the time the show ends. And don't come at me saying this is a kids show so I cant complain about things being silly bcs I'm not the target audience. I can and I will bcs no one was NEARLY this obnoxious in TCW or Rebels. Kaz is Jarjar Level, but I ACTUALLY LIKE JARJAR!

DUDE IS A DAMN SPY HE DOESNT EVEN LIKE GO BY AN ALLIAS!!! HE DEADASS USES HIS REAL FULL NAME. BCS KAZ IS AN IDIOT.

I'm not saying he isn't a good person. Kaz is very sweet tbh. He's just an unknowing spoiled ass man-child who NEVER REALLY DEVELOPS INTO ANYTHING ELSE?????

It would be okay if he entered the show like this and exited a more mature, capable man. But he really doesn't. There are never any consequences for his actions. Ever. Other than when he becomes a spy and, again, IS USING HIS REAL LEGAL NAME as a spy for the Resistance... to avoid a scandal and to scold him for LITERALLY DESERTING THE NAVY his daddy cuts him off from his allowance. So instead of half assing his cover job as a mechanic, Kaz has to actually apply himself so he can make money for food. He doesn't improve much. His co-workers (Who are MUCH more interesting than him) constantly complain about him messing things up and making their jobs more difficult.

Man, FUCK KAZ. MY HOMIES HATE KAZ. BEING HOT CAN ONLY GET YOU SO FAR!!!!!

At the Season one finale there is a moment where you think he is finally going to grow as a man! Grow into the protagonist we deserve! Tragedy, for the first time in his life, strikes Kaz! It's during the events of episode 7, when The First Order blows up Hosnian Prime. His home planet. Where his FATHER LIVES. He has a moment of humanity and he is devastated. He almost cries. But he sucks it up to finish the mission and get his friends off base for their safety. He is a man now. and the audience feels a sense of comradery for Kaz. After all, Star Wars is about Fathers. Kaz has lost his father forever. His father was KILLED by the First Order. He now, first hand, has experienced real loss for the first time and this is going to help him grow and toughen up. he has to live on his own now. Our hero has a reason to be doing what he's doing. Fighting against the first order.

BUT NAH. FAM. then the very next fucking EPISODE YOU FIND OUT HIS DAD IS FUCKING ALIVE AND THAT HE DIDNT ACTUALLY EXPEIRENCE THE LOSS THAT HE HAD THOUGHT, AND HE GOES RIGHT BACK TO BEING HIS GOOFY ASS CHILDISH SELF. NO. I HATED THAT. THERE WAS NO REASON FOR GROWTH. MAN FUCK RESISTANCE.

FUCK. IF ANYONE DESERVED THEIR FATHER TO LIVE THROUGH A DAMN PLANETORY DESTRUCTION IT WAS MY GIRL LEIA, NOT FUCKING KAZUDO THE CLOWN XIONO. FUCK. guys I'm sorry I just really hate this god damn character.

Like. Lemme break it down, folks.

TCW started and Ahsoka enters. I HATED Ahsoka for a long time. Bcs she was young, cocky and annoying. But that was on purpose. Narratively, she experiences loss, she experiences pain and GROws as a character while navigating her Jedi life during the war. Our girl grows into the capable protagonist that we EXPECT out of a Star Wars story.

Same for Rebels. We meet Ezra, and he's not quite as annoying as Ahsoka was at first in my opinion (I cannot stress how much I did not care for Ahsoka yall) but he was young. He was childish. But he was more capable at 14 than fucking Kaz was at 20. By the end of Rebels, not only is he more wise and capable, but he is selfless. He has found his own path and it's only because of what he has gone through. His journey has made him stronger. Ezra is my favorite Star Wars journey, if I'm being honest. He is the perfect example of character development.

KAZUDO XIONO ENTERS SEASON ONE AS A 20 YEAR OLD MAN-CHILD USING DADDY'S MONEY WHO IS LOUD AND DOESNT KNOW WHEN THE STFU... AND EXITS THE FINALE... AS A LOUD MAN-CHILD WHO CAN NOW USE TOOLS. He doesn't' experience REAL FAMILIAL loss. He doesn't really experience a lot of character development at all. Things just happen around him, he helps, but he doesn't learn. He doesn't grow. I fucking hate that.

Literally every single character in the show BESIDEs Kaz is more interesting than him. and EXPEIRENCE CHARACTER GROWTH!!!

Jarek Yeager, Kaz's boss in the mechanic shop, was in the Rebellion and LOST HIS FAMILY. He is a sexy ass man too. HE starts the show not wanting to help the Resistance at all bcs he's experienced loss since his days in the Rebellion, and his heart is hard and he's comfortable. By the end of the show he is risking not just his career, but his VERY LIFE to help the Resistance.

Tam Ryvora, Kaz's co-worker. Daughter figure to Yeager and a total bad ass woman of color. She is the one on the show who experiences the most character development and struggles to find her identity while the First Order is taking over the galaxy. I LOVE her.

There are these 2 kids who are force sensitive and orphaned after Kylo Ren comits GENOCIDE on their planet. This arc set up is never fully addressed nor does it have a conclusion, like most story arcs on this show tbh.

There's a literal witch for some reason??

There's this fucking rad ass sexy Mirilian Pirate girl named Synara who FOR SOME REASON is suggested to be Kaz's love interest. Gross. Girl, you gay. Move in.

I could go on and on and on. But I wont. Fuck this show. Fuck Kaz. It literally adds NOTHING to the bigger Star Wars lore. TCW and Rebels do this beautifully and this show is a hot mess of ideas and characters that never come to a satisfying story telling conclusion.

Thanks for coming to my tedtalk, dont watch Resistance.

[ofrani]

mishti rahman & she/her, cis woman. ‷ watch out, rani haldar has crash-landed into roswell !! they look twenty-nine years old and celebrate their birthday on april 13th. they are from brighton, uk, reside in moonbeam gardens, and are currently working as a self-employed jeweler. one thing you should know about them is she’s a housewife to a wealthy husband, and it’s rumored that she’s really unhappy. ‷ ( lu, he/they, 28, mst ) — filling the wc for nao chiba’s sister.

INFORMATION,  THE TYPIST.

hello ! my name is lu. i’m a 28 year-old beauty professional who, funnily enough, resides in new mexico ! i’m a skin-care aficionado, a makeup lover, and it’s my long-term goal to be a housewife. 😂  if you’re interested in the beauty world, drag / ball culture, pokémon, “bad” horror movies, and anime, let me know ! i can go on and on and on about all that. ♡ either way, i look forward to writing with all of you, and i can’t wait to get to know you all and your gorgeous muses !

STATISTICS,  THE MUSE.

name,  rani ( no middle name ) haldar. age & dob,  29  &  april 13th, 1992. birthplace,  brighton, united kingdom. current residence,  roswell, new mexico. neighborhood,  the moonbeam gardens. gender & pronouns,  cis woman  &  she/her. sexual orientation,  heterosexual, kinsey #1. relationship status,  ( unhappily ) married. — note,  her husband is currently an npc !

HISTORY,  THE MUSE.

01. born in brighton, united kingdom to two mothers. she is the biological child to one of them, and fun fact, the sperm donor used was her mom’s best friend from childhood. she knows her “birth” father, but he’s mostly like a cool uncle figure she speaks to a couple times a year. he gives the best birthday presents, though.

02. she doesn’t remember life in the uk much as she was still so young when they moved, so she considers new mexico her home. her mom, for some reason, has always loved the idea of moving to the american southwest, and as an aerospace engineer, she found roswell to be a perfect fit for her. she was hired pretty much immediately, and that’s why all of their family moved to the usa in the first place.

03. growing up, she ( sadly ) had a lot of issues with bullying at school. moving to a largely hispanic and white town, she stood out immensely for how different she looked, and on-top of that, as a little girl, she was very overweight, and also wore glasses. awful monikers were thrown at her, she was picked on relentlessly, and though she had gotten used to the shock of experiencing a brand new culture, not fitting in anywhere was extremely hard on her. she would lie about all this to her family, though, to not worry them as they were so busy with work, etc.

04. around this time, she was also having a hard time identifying with her bengali culture. it was important to her mother to immerse her into as much of it as possible, but as a kid, she was resistant to it all. it was more important for her to fit in than to learn about her culture, and she often wished that she was white, or light-skinned, or anything else because of all the racism, colorism, etc. she faced.

05. public opinion ( well, as far as her peers were concerned ) about her started to shift in late middle school, early high school. puberty hit her hard and she blossomed into a girl who stunned everyone who used to hate her. it... fucked with her mind a lot. now, all the douchey jocks wanted to her number, and the girls both loved and hated her. typical cliché ugly duckling transforming into a swan scenario, but she was never ugly to begin with. kids are just fuckin’ mean.

06. this gave her a sense of power she liked, but it also placed a target on her back, too, but this one was different than the rest. because of the attention she received from guys, names like “whore” and “slut” followed her around, and despite not being hellishly bullied like she used to be, the slander still stung. this paired with the fact that she wasn’t a great student made her feel as though she should just rely on her beauty to get ahead in life. instead of studying or doing her homework, she’d sneak out and attend parties, etc. instead of feeling somewhat accomplished by earning high scores on exams, she was happy doing the bare minimum. this displeased her mother ( an “intellectual” ) for obvious reasons.

07. she and her moms battled a lot during her time spent in high school, and when she got her diploma ( which was honestly a shock to her, to be honest ), she moved into her own apartment, worked as a waitress to pay her bills, and it was at this job where she met her husband. he tipped her extremely well ( $4,000 dollars ) and asked her out on a date. she obviously said yes, and before she knew it, she was engaged to him—moving from her one bedroom space to an estate he recently purchased in moonbeam gardens. her parents are not the happiest with her life choices, but she feels great knowing that she doesn’t need to work, she has seemingly endless amounts of money at her disposal, and all she has to do is dote on her man whenever he’s home... which is hardly ever.

08. now she’s a kept woman, and her restless aries spirit fucking hates every minute of it. all of her time is spent alone in her giant home and she’s so, so, so insufferably lonely. however having all this time on her hands hasn’t been that bad. recently, she’s started to learn about her bengali heritage and has immersed herself in it; hating and regretting that she used to turn her nose up at it for so long. it’s become really important to her to feel one with where she’s from. that, and she’s taught herself how to make lovely upscale jewelry that she sells at local boutiques. she doesn’t need the money, she’s just needed something to do.

09. she’s beginning to discover that the “seven year itch” she’s heard about is true, and now that she’s been unhappily married for so long, she’s so tempted to just do her own thing and live her own life. it’s not like her husband’s home enough to pay attention to what she’s doing, and more than anything, she just needs someone to meet her needs. in a lot of ways, she’s gotten the ideal future she used to dream of: she’s filthy rich, has timeless beauty, and the whole world is at her fingertips, but now that she’s experiencing what that’s like, she’s hopeless and miserable. now, she’s forever wishing she worked hard and made something of herself like her moms always insisted, but fears it’s too late.

PERSONALITY,  THE MUSE.

i’m going to try my best to keep this short since her history got kind of long, so that being said, she’s impulsive, headless, charismatic, confrontational, restless, and adventurous. it isn’t a surprise that she threw herself into a marriage on a whim ( at only 22, mind you ) and is now miserable due to how unexciting her lifestyle sometimes is. she feels like she wasted all of her twenties on being a housewife and now aches to break free.  //  she was definitely the type of girl who purposely did things to piss her moms off, and though she’s older now, that part of her still exists in smaller doses. she hates being told what to do and how to live, even if she should’ve really listened to her elders and followed a better path, and is likely to rebel whenever anyone tries to boss her around.  //  she loves a good time, and if you’re a friend of her’s or someone she’s loyal to, she’ll treat you to spur of the moment trips to all kinds of places, expensive dinners out, shopping sprees, etc. her husband’s credit cards remain present despite his constant absences, and she uses pretty irresponsibly. in her mind, it’s what she deserves since he’s never around.  //  she’s also flirtatious, reckless, impatient, and impeccably charming. she’s learned to be pretty savvy with her words as most of her young life was spent trying to convince people to like her.  //  she’s still very much a work in progress, so more of her layers will be uncovered as i write. ♡

PLOT IDEAS,  THE MUSE.

01. while i know it can be triggering to some, one of the main things i’d like to explore with rani is infidelity. i feel like maybe that was becoming obvious if you read through her history and her personality, but i feel like she’s about to make things really messy in her marriage by stepping out on her husband. how i envision this happening is, like, it could be a series of fwb’s, or one person that’s decided to romance her and give her all she wants, etc. and they can know that she’s married, or they can be blind to it, whatever works best for you and the muse in question. if you’d like more information on her husband, don’t hesitate to reach out as i’m always happy to answer any questions you may have. ♡

02. a ride-or-die best friend that she’s been close to since she moved to roswell. it would be a major plus if they were born and raised in roswell, but so long as they were childhood pals to some capacity, i’ll be forever grateful. she’d literally kill for this friend; she’s fiercely loyal that way, especially if they stood by her side when she was being bullied. gender doesn’t matter, but it’d be best if they’re close in age, so born 1990-1994 but happy to adjust if needed.

03. would you consider your muse a “dumb jock” who went to high school in roswell? if so, he / they / however they identify could’ve easily been one of rani’s exes. bonus points if this is paired up with plot idea 01, but anything goes.

04. someone who uses / who used rani for the money she has now; whose friendship is or was fake as fuck. she could still be blind to your ways or she could’ve called you out and things are ugly now—whatever works out best !

05. an old friend of rani’s who thinks she’s changed a lot since childhood ( she definitely has ) and doesn’t really fuck with her anymore. however, in her loneliness, she’s reached out to them to reconnect and they’re trying out a friendship again. it could be working or not working, either way !

06. i don’t know, i’m literally up for anything, so please, hit me up !

[with-my-murder-flute]

Hi everybody, thanks for the asks letting me know I made the top of @yusuftiddies’ list of Homophobes in TOG Fandom, you can stop sending them now.

So.

I can make mistakes and fuck up and own that. I am serious about listening to marginalized people. But... in this case, while @yusufstiddies generally describes factual events that happened and factual posts that exist, I have to say that I can’t actually apologize for the things I’m called out for because I don’t think they’re homophobic. The things he criticizes me for are things that come from a lot of personal experience as a queer bisexual cis woman, as well as a lot of reflection, research, and study. I believe in them really strongly and stand by them.

I’m really sorry if this makes TOG fandom too hostile, because it is not my intention to make this place so unpleasant that anyone feels driven out. I understand if my stance means people no longer want to follow me/read my stuff/participate in projects I’m involved with (though I’d rather hand off the Research Hub to someone else than see it go down with me). I’m posting this so people can know where they stand before they decide whether to keep interacting with my blog, or “deplatform” me as @yusufstiddies recommends.

I would recommend, for anyone who doesn’t want to see my posts, using Tumblr’s new post content filtering feature. If you type a username (like star-anise or with-my-murder-flute) into it, Tumblr will hide all posts featuring that specific string of characters, and therefore any post or reblog of mine.

To address the accusations against me:

I am an anti-anti: Yes. I’ve reblogged posts of mine about this before. I care passionately about preventing child abuse, but I think there are better ways to prevent child abuse in fandom (like concrete harassment policies so predatory behaviour can be reported and stopped early, and education about digital consent and healthy relationships) than attacking people who write “bad ships,” not least because the first people it hurts are abuse survivors trying to work through their trauma, and because the research says you cannot actually tell who’s a sexual predator based on what they write about.  Fiction affects reality, but not on a 1:1 basis. My mainblog, @star-anise, has a really extensive archive of my writing on the subject.

I said cishet men aren’t more privileged than gay men: Kinda. What I actually did was question whether Every Single Cishet Man benefits from more privilege than Every Single Gay Man. If a man is cishet but gets beaten up because people perceive him as gay, he’s not exactly feeling the warm toasty glow of heterosexual privilege in that moment. Oppression is complicated and there are times when someone’s lack of privilege on one axis is way less important than someone else’s lack of privilege on another axis.

The post above also includes me reblogging someone else’s addition about how straight men can be included in the queer movement: I’m queer. @yusufstiddies has made it very clear that he isn’t comfortable with the word “queer” and doesn’t like it. Therefore I think it’s understandable that he might not understand that the queer community sees ourselves as a coalition of people dedicated to dismantling the structures of sex and gender that oppress us, not a demographic of people whose gender identities or sexual orientations can be neatly mapped. However, I would say that doesn’t make queer theory inherently homophobic.

There are also some related points @yusufstiddies didn’t level at me specifically, but I would like to address:

The constant focus on the unsafeness of cishet people:

I’m not cishet. I’m a bisexual woman who’s dated women. Sixth-light is a queer woman married to a woman. This is not an issue of non-LGBTQ+ people blundering their way into something they don’t experience the daily consequences of. This is an issue of people from WITHIN the LGBTQ+ community who sincerely disagree with @yusufstiddies about the pressures we experience and how best to deal with them. I think that even if @yusufstiddies were to filter his fiction input to only LGBT-written work about LGBT experiences, or even only trans-written work about trans people, he would still find a lot of things he finds upsetting or transphobic, because sexual and gender identities are really diverse and not everything will suit one person.

The contention that saying “’Queer is a slur’ is TERF propaganda” is transmisogyny because it dilutes the definition of “TERF”:

People who point out the phrase is TERF propaganda are not calling every person who says it a TERF, and we are not trying to argue that telling a queer person that queer is a slur is inherently equal to the kind of damage a TERF does when she attacks a trans woman out of transphobia. Queer people being able to use the word “queer” does not have the same importance as trans women being able to live, work, and survive in public. Rather, we are literally saying, “This is a thing TERFs say when they take a break from attacking trans women and try to recruit new members to their group, so it’s in our best interests to not give it too wide a currency.”

Some people have experienced the word “queer” used as a hateful word hurled against them and don’t want to hear it ever again. I get that. It happens. Where I grew up, “gay” was a synonym for “shitty” and it took me a lot of years out of high school before the word “gay” wouldn’t shoot my blood pressure through the roof.  I actually do understand that and think that’s valid (and again, support using post content filtering for that word).

One of the things I do at @star-anise is argue with young people who are headed into full-on transmisogynistic TERF territory, and work at reeling them back and deradicalizing them. I use a tag called “weedwhacking” so my followers can filter out the sometimes lengthy back-and-forths we get going.

Something I’ve learned, interacting with so many TERFs and proto-TERFs, is that one way they frequently get recruited into harassing trans people was through discourse around the word “queer”. For one, it encouraged them to want to distance themselves from any perception of LGBT people as “weird” or “not normal”, which led to seeing trans people as “weird” and “not normal” and therefore not good members of the “gay pride” community. For two, repeating “queer is a slur” predictably causes a lot of queer people to react in a defensive manner, so by teaching young or new people to say it, TERFs can set them up to feel alienated from the larger LGBTQ+ community and more open to TERF propaganda.

The next issue isn’t mentioned in the original callout post, but I think it’s key to this entire issue:

@yusufstiddies has made several posts about what cishet people should and shouldn’t write. For example, cishets shouldn’t write Nicky experiencing internalized homophobia.  Another is a detailed post of things cishets shouldn’t write about trans people, including which sexual positions only trans people are allowed to write. I would imagine that part of his frustration with fandom has been the lack of traction those posts have gotten. I know I very deliberately didn’t reblog them.

That isn’t because I don’t agree that the things he complains about are rarely handled well by cishet authors. I agree that there’s a lot of bad fic out there that contributes to negative stereotypes against LGBTQ+ people and is basically a microaggression to read.

I have two very deeply-seated reasons for my position:

LGBTQ+ identities are different from many other political identities because most people are not born identifiably LGBTQ+. It’s something we have to figure out about ourselves. And one really important way that we do that is using the safety of fiction to explore what an experience would be like, sometimes years before we ever admit that we fit the identity we’ve written about. So banning cishet authors from writing something is really likely to harm closeted and questioning LGBTQ+ people. It will lengthen the amount of time questioning people take before finding the identity that really fits them, and force closeted people to be even more closeted. 

There’s a lot of undeniably shitty stuff in fandom. However, I fundamentally believe that trying to target the people creating it and forcing them to stop doesn’t work very well, and has the serious byproduct of killing the creativity and enthusiasm of the rest of fandom and resulting in less of the actual thing you like being produced. I think that it is infinitely more productive to focus on improving the ratio of good stuff in fandom than trying to snuff out every bad thing.

Like I said: I understand if this means former followers, mutuals, or friends no longer want to interact with me. I’ll be saddened, but I’ve obviously chosen this path and can deal with the consequences. 

I wish this could have worked out differently.

[robotslenderman]

OK but like

Being as protected and even sheltered as much as she was, but still on the periphery of the Sabbat, it ironically made Nastasya a target. Many Sabbat hated that she was a "sheltered, spoiled brat" and were also pissed she and her family didn't participate in Vaudlerie. (Grigori always suspected that having that many minor blood bonds fucks with a Kindred's head and is the chief reason Sabbat are so fucking psychopathic, so always flat out refused to participate and always insisted to Norm and Stasya that no matter how involved they might decide to be with the Sabbat, they shouldn't touch Vaudlerie with a ten foot barge pole.)

For the most part, Grigori and Norm (mostly Grigori) were able to keep Stasya safe despite many cousins taking personal offence to Stasya's existence because, in Stasya's words, "I don't have daddy issues like they do". Occasionally, though, they managed to get to her, like that one time a pack decided she should star in a Bat Race. (She basically found a corner and acted as boring as possible to make them go away, even as they escalated in violence, defending herself when necessary but trying to make provoking her as dull as she could manage.)

But despite being shy and quiet as a human I think standing up to the Sabbat is part of the reason she came out of her shell - at first she fought back because she was too dumb to realise how severe the consequences would be, but then she fought back because she realised that the consequences of letting them run all over her would be even worse.

It was always pretty damn hard when her cousins were in town and bored enough to kidnap her or terrorise her. She didn't know how to fight, Norm didn't know how to fight, and the only reason Grigori was able to keep the Sabbat away from her most of the time was because his status as a childe of Sascha Vykos made it easy to bluff most neonate packs into backing off.

Meanwhile, the packs that liked to pick on her were experienced in fighting, liked to gang up on her and were pretty good as working as a unit.

She got beaten to near death a lot. Relatively speaking, anyway.

So what did she do? She took the Crazy Russian stereotype and turned it up to eleven.

The thing is, there's not much you can do against a Sabbat pack. If you run that just makes it fun for them. If you stand your ground they'll just overpower you. If you try to ignore them, they just escalate in an attempt to provoke you. Pretend she was in torpor, they'd probably call her on her bluff by setting her on fire or something.

So the way Stasya saw it, the only option she really had was to fight - and therefore lose - but make them earn it, and puff herself up as much as possible to make herself look scary. They're trying to turn it up to 11? She'll turn it up to 15. They escalate? She escalates more. Yelling and screaming at them in Russian, playing up the "FUCK YOU, I AM RUSSIA, WE DO NOT FEEL PAIN" angle in the thickest accent she can muster.

She also had the idea to practice working on her Rotschreck reflex, reckoning that if she could learn to face a little fire without frenzying that would be her only hope at gaining an edge over them.

Yes. Stasya has thrown Molotov cocktails at people in the streets of NYC. Sadly, lugging around bottles of vodka is pretty inconvenient so she saved that for nights when she was more likely to expect trouble. She was able to get to the point where she could light one without more than a flinch, so long as she looked away after she threw it, before it exploded. But yeah, breaking a Molotov cocktail on the skull of a particularly sadistic cousin and setting him on fire was one of her prouder moments.

After Stasya started getting good at the Fire Dances and fighting back, the packs started leaving her be more. Some just took it as a challenge, but at least the ones who wanted easy prey left her alone.

Life got a hell of a lot less cut-throat after the Battle of New York. When the Sabbat were driven out, the Vykosoviches stayed, and just kept their heads down to avoid Camarilla attention. Nastasya misses the less edgelordy Sabbat war games, like Demolition Derby and Cops & Robbers, and she misses the Fire Dances (she got good at those), but she considers it a fair trade for a substantially more peaceful life. She has to admit, she's kind of disappointed that she never got the opportunity to take a leaf out of Theo Bell's book and learn to use Dragon's Breath rounds without flinching, but she takes a shotgun to the range to practice her aim just in case the Sabbat move back in one night and she needs to set a cousin on fire again.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Place To Call Home: Dark Roads

Summary: The reader and Jensen are up in Vancouver doing some work for the brewery and Jensen has an audition to attend to. After the work day is over though, Jensen decides to surprise the reader with a mini-vacation with plenty of fun before they head home. But not all surprises are good and not all nights end well...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x foster daughter!reader

Square: Domestic!AU

Word Count: 10,100ish

Warnings: language, angst (so much angst), fluff

A/N: This part takes place after the Christmas Vacation timestamp. Enjoy! Don’t hate me!

A/N #2: Also written for @spndeanbingo​

________

“So, what do you think?” asked the man in the suit on the other side of the conference table. You looked to your left, your dad looking over at you.

“It is a good offer, Mr. Hamilton, but unfortunately we can’t accept,” you said. He balked at you before looking over to your dad.

“She’s the boss, not me,” he said. “It doesn’t sound like we have a deal.”

“Mr. Ackles-”

“Are you disrespecting her because she’s a woman or my child? I’m not quite sure which one it is,” said your dad with a smile. The man’s face went blank and you kept a smirk off your own. “I am here as an owner. If this is how your grocery store deals with heads of distribution for breweries then I’ll tell you right now, never call us again,” said your dad. You gathered up your papers and slid them back in your portfolio, the man taking a deep breath.

“What if we did 5% better than the number on that page?” he asked.

“No,” you said, your dad echoing the sentiment. 

“That’s an amazing deal,” he said as he stood up. You clenched your jaw and shoved your portfolio in your bag as your dad leaned back in his seat.

“Actually, Mr. Hamilton, it’s not. You offered the least desirable shelf space, a very small amount of shelf space at that, placement in your outer region stores, not in the city or suburbs surrounding Vancouver, and you wanted an absurd percent of profits. People in this area want our products and we are more than happy to find a seller that suits our needs,” you said. You nodded and your dad stood up. “Thank you for your time, Mr. Hamilton.”

Mr. Hamilton grumbled as you walked out of the conference room, your dad smiling wide as you walked through the hall.

“Alright. I’m impressed. You more than earned that promotion,” he said. 

“Negotiating distribution deals is strangely a lot like college,” you said. “But easier.”

“These guys weren’t even your first choice,” he said once you were in the elevator alone.

“Nope but they didn’t need to know that,” you said. “I wanted the other deal as soon as I saw it.”

“Well let’s send it out to the lawyer to review and then we can sign the paperwork,” he said.

“I already did,” you said with a smile. 

“You did huh. What if I wanted to go with this guy?” he asked.

“You may be the head owner but I’m head of distribution. I want your input but if you’re going to second guess me, I don’t want that job. I told you that when you gave it to me,” you said. He nodded and leaned back against the wall. “What?”

“S’nice to see you confident is all,” he said. “You know what you’re doing.”

“I really don’t. I just kinda try my best and hope it works out,” you said.

“Pretty much the definition of being an adult,” he chuckled.

“Does that feeling ever go away?” you asked.

“Well, I’m fifty one and I don’t feel much different than a twenty year old kid if I’m being honest. You learn not to sweat the small stuff as much I suppose but not really,” he said. 

“Like you getting gray hair,” you smirked. You earned a headlock for that comment, your dad only releasing you from your noogie when you got to the lobby. “Hey, at least you have hair still!”

“You are being such a little shit,” he laughed.

“I won’t tell anyone you dye it,” you said, humming as you headed for the exit.

“I do not! It’s a few specks and that’s it. Plus mom thinks it’s hot so I see no problems with it,” he said, pulling you into another noogie once you were outside. You fixed your hair, getting a peck on the temple. “Alright, alright. I got my audition I have to run to. You want to head back to the hotel and change and I can meet you back there later before I take you out for dinner?”

“Actually, could I go with you? I’ve never seen one of those,” you said. He winced and cocked his head. “I can go somewhere else, that’s-”

“It’s not a problem, munchkin. It’s just...it’s kind of an intense audition. It’s a drama. It’s a pretty dark scene,” he said.

“I’ve seen all of Supernatural though and the movie. I even read the other movie I wasn’t supposed to know about yet and that one goes way dark,” you said. He bit his bottom lip and you smiled. “It’s cool dad. You need to do your audition thing anyways.”

“You sure?” he asked. “If you want to-”

“Probably a better idea for me to wait until the movie,” you said. “I’ll meet you back at the hotel then?”

“Sounds like a plan, kiddo.”

“So how’d it go?” you asked when your dad walked in the hotel room three hours later. He sighed and you frowned. “You didn’t get it?”

“Oh, I got it,” he said, plopping down in the chair. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled. “I turned it down though, took a different part in the movie.”

“But why would you turn down the lead?” you asked. 

“You know how I said it’s supposed to be dark? But there’s that bit of love story?” he asked.

“Yeah. That’s what was cool to you about it you said.”

“Yeah. I met the lead actress who would be my romantic interest,” he said. 

“She not so great?”

“She was very lovely,” he said. “She’s also nineteen years old.”

“So...thirty two years age difference?” you said with a wince as he nodded. “Who thought that was a good idea?”

“Hollywood is...I am very happy you never wanted to be an actress, let’s put it that way,” he said. “Now I’m playing her dad in the movie. I would have walked completely but my manager is gonna kill me as is for walking from a lead roll,” he said.

“Do you really need it though?” you asked.

“No. I wanted to try out something new and interesting though,” he said. “That story was different.”

“Yeah but I see red flags all over it. Who’s even the target audience besides pervy old guys?” you asked. He laughed and nodded, getting to his feet.

“You have a very good point,” he said. “Besides, I got another album I want to work on in the meantime and there’s plenty of other stories out there.”

“Told you so,” you said. “Now where are we going for dinner cause last time it was that really fancy steakhouse downtown and-”

“Pack up your bag and we’ll head up,” he said with a smirk. You narrowed your eyes and he padded into the bathroom. “Oh, we’re staying somewhere else tonight. Maybe we can go visit the canyon-”

“I love the canyon park!” you said, hopping up from the bed. “Are the winter lights still up?”

“Yes,” he said with a big smile. “We got a three hour drive up there and then we’re gonna have a nice dinner and then we can go check it out before we fly home tomorrow. How’s that sound?”

“It sounds like, really nice. What’s the occasion?” you asked. 

“No occasion other than to see you get all excited,” he said. “You know mom and your brother are off having a fun little weekend together while your sisters drive TJ insane. I figured we could have one night of fun.”

“Are you kidding me? They love him. He texted me that they ordered a pizza each for themselves for dinner,” you said. “They were gonna stay up late and watch rom coms apparently.”

“You found a pretty good guy,” he chuckled, as he walked back out of the bathroom and stuck his small bag in his backpack. You gave him a quick smile and nod, your dad returning it. “You two doing good?”

“Yeah. I just…” you said, starting to pack up. “I don’t know.”

“Something going on?” he asked. You shrugged and put your heels in your suitcase. “Y/N.”

“You know how his parents were in town last week?” you asked. He nodded and you took a deep breath. “Well, Allie was doing something she wasn’t supposed to and his dad was watching her and so we said timeout time was what we do and everything was going fine and then she comes running in from the playroom crying cause he’d tried spanking her.”

“TJ doesn’t strike me as the kind of parent that would be okay with spanking. It doesn’t do any good,” he said.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t just spanking. It was you know...old school spanking,” you said.

“With…” he said, pointing at his belt. You nodded and he rolled his eyes. “No offense but his father is a fucking idiot. I’ve always thought so.”

“Well, if you thought I was pissed, you should have seen TJ. I’ve never seen him that angry before. He got in a huge shouting match with his dad. I took the kids outside to the park and then his parents were gone by the time we got back. They’re not speaking at the moment,” you said. “I was just...why doesn’t his dad just talk to him? Talk to his grandkids? I know you guys would never do something like that and...I just don’t understand some men and their need to be the tough guy and the asshole all the time.”

“You grew up with a couple of those yourself,” he said. You finished with your clothes and gave him a glance before he grabbed some more relaxing clothes to change into. “If I knew why, I would tell you. Strength doesn’t belong to men and emotions don’t belong to women. I pity anyone who thinks experiencing their life fully is weakness.”

“Mom told me once, when I first came to the house that you were a bit closed off when you were younger,” you said.

“I was. In a way I still am. I always will be. I’m like you in that way. I always felt things but it’s scarier to show it. You feel like you have to be strong, you don’t want to bother other people, you think it goes away on it’s own,” he said. “Then you fall in love and then you have children and you realize there is nothing more badass than playing princesses with your daughter and knowing that you are part of the reason why she has pure happiness at that moment. I only ever wanted my family to felt the love that I did. It’s a pretty decent way to live. If somebody out there doesn’t think I’m man enough, that’s their problem, not mine.”

“TJ thinks of you as his real dad, you know. He says you’ve never put him down or belittled him. He’s never questioned what you think of him.”

“Why would I hurt some innocent kid, especially one that’s one of mine?” he asked. “You know better than anyone, kiddo, blood doesn’t make you family.”

“No, it doesn’t. Go change so we can get on the road. I’m starving already.”

“Did you get lost?” you asked two and a half hours later as your dad drove the SUV he’d rented for the weekend.

“No, I’m not lost. The hotel is just a few miles up the road I think,” he said. You stared out the dark window, rain coming down hard on the January night.

“If you tell me the name I can-” you said, a hand reaching out in front of you before you crashed head on into something. You suspected the SUV had flipped but it was too hard to tell, especially once you hit your head on something and went out cold.

You woke up a few seconds later, gaining your bearings, turning to your right and finding your dad upside down and covered in blood.

“Dad,” you said, undoing your seatbelt. You shoved on him but he was still, his jacket turning a crimson color. “No, no, no.”

You dropped down and undid his seatbelt too, catching him as he slipped. You kicked away the glass in the broken windshield and dragged him outside into the rain. You felt pain in your back but ignored it and got him out where you could see in the headlights. You glanced past the truck and saw what looked like a dead moose in the middle of the road.

“Dad,” you said, laying him down. He had a cut on his head in his hair, his chest was soaked  and his left leg looked funny. You tugged up his shirt and got a face full of blood for it, falling backwards and wiping it away.

You stared at him before you put a shaky hand against his neck. There wasn’t anything there and you moved your fingers again, over and over and over.

“Dad, no,” you said, shaking him, unable to find a pulse. “You promised me. You don’t…”

He didn’t move and you sat back on your heels, looking around for help but there were no other cars, nothing around but trees and a wet road. You reached a hand into your pocket for your phone but it was shattered, pieces of metal and glass falling out. You found his in his back pocket but it was broken and wouldn’t turn on.

“No, no, no!” you shouted, throwing the phone against the truck. “No! You don’t get to die! You don’t die...you promised. Dad, you promised. You said 102. I can’t...I can’t, please I can’t. Please wake up. Please, please, please, dad. Please. I love you. You can’t go yet. Please, daddy, please, wake up.”

You tried for a pulse again but there was nothing and the rain was beginning to stain the ground pink. You stared at it long enough for your stomach to swirl. You ran over to the side of the road and threw up, slowly coming back before you fell down to your knees. You looked at him, a heaving sob leaving you as you clenched your fists.

“What did I ever do to you?” you shouted at the dark sky. “What did I do to you! Stop killing my parents! I never did anything wrong! Why do you keep hurting them! Why!”

You turned to your dad and you could barely see you were crying so hard. 

“Wake up,” you said. He was motionless and you took your fist, beating on his chest hard. “I said wake up!”

You slammed it down again, over and over until your hand was throbbing but you didn’t care. All you wanted was for him to be okay.

“WAKE UP!” you screamed, bringing your fist down hard.

“Y/N!” he said as he shot up, gasping for air before he plopped back down. You scurried next to him, your dad taking a few deep breaths as he looked up at you. “You okay, tall munchkin?”

“I’m fine,” you said, putting a hand on his head. “Dad, don’t move. You’re really hurt.”

“I feel really hurt so can do,” he said, shutting his eyes.

“Stay awake!” you shouted, his eyes flying open. 

“No closing eyes, understood,” he said. You squeezed yours shut and took off your jacket, shaking the phone piece away before you balled the thing up and pressed it against his stomach. You threw his hands over top of it, and took off your flannel, folding it up and tying it around his leg. You sat back at his head again, taking over for putting pressure on his stomach. “Y/N, look at me.”

You glanced down, finding a look on his face you’d not seen since he found you on the highway, walking in the rain the night of your seventeenth birthday.

He was afraid.

“Did you think I died?” he asked. You couldn’t speak but nodded, trying to stop the tears that were mixing in with the rain. “Oh, honey. Honey, I’m okay. Dad’s okay.”

“You didn’t have a pulse,” you choked out. “And our phones are broken and there’s no one out here and you can’t move and now I have to watch you die.”

You cried hard, sobbing as you tried to get a hold on the bleeding. 

“You’re hurt,” he said, a stray finger tracing over a cut on your arm.

“I don’t care!” you shouted. “I can’t fix this. I don’t want to watch my dad die again. Don’t make me do that again, please, dad, please.”

“Y/N, breathe, kiddo,” he said when you felt yourself gasping for air. You shook your head and felt him reach a shaky hand up and wipe off your face. “Honey, it’s gonna be okay. No matter what happens.”

“I don’t want to be alone again. Don’t leave me here by myself,” you said.

“I’m gonna do my best,” he said but he was looking even paler and you winced. “But you’re a smart girl. You’re an amazing young woman and I know you don’t want to hear this right now but I don’t...I don’t feel right inside and I don’t think...I don’t want to die, munchkin. I’m not done with you yet either. But odds are, I’m not making it off this road and if that happens, you’re gonna promise me you’re gonna go be happy and have a really great life and I’m gonna be upstairs watching your back okay?”

You nodded, not even bothering trying to not cry anymore.

“I love you so much and I’m so proud of you and I’m really happy we got to a place where I know you love me back just as much. Oh, and there’s boxes in the storage container for all you guys. Letters. There’s one for this too. Just read it. It’s gonna sound a hell of a lot better than whatever this blubbering mess is.”

“Stop crying,” you said to him.

“Can’t really help it at the moment,” he said, pursing his lips. 

“Can I make you feel better?” you asked quietly.

“Just stay...maybe don’t tell mom about the crying,” he said with a laugh and a wince.

“Okay,” you said. You took a deep breath, spotting your purse nearby. You stared at him and back at the bag.

“What?” 

“How much do you trust me?” you asked.

“With my life,” he said. 

“Hold this,” you said. You put his hands on your jacket again, feeling him put less pressure than before. You reached over and grabbed your purse, dumping it on the ground and picking up your hand sanitizer. You squeezed it all over your hands and rubbed them together, taking a deep breath. You moved his hands away and took a deep breath. You grabbed your hat from your bag on the ground nearby and rolled it up, shoving it in his mouth. “Whatever I do, don’t yank my hand away, okay?”

He nodded and saw you peel the jacket back quick to get a look.

“I really hope you pass out from this,” you said. He gave you a thumbs up and squeezed his eyes shut before you moved the jacket away and shoved your fingers into the tear in his torso. He shouted into the hat, your fingers trying to find the spot inside that was gushing the blood out. You shuddered when the sound escaping him turned into some kind of scream you were positive he shouldn’t have been capable of making. The hat fell out of his mouth and he threw his head back, squirming as he grabbed your arm.

“Stop, stop, stop,” he said, gritting his teeth. 

“I’m sorry,” you said. “You’re gonna die right here if we don’t stop the bleeding right now.”

“Stop!” he shouted, body tensing up, his voice quiet. “Please, stop. Please, Y/N.”

“Almost,” you said, his hand tightening around your wrist but never pulling away. You felt something different inside and pinched with your fingertips, your dad trying to get away from it. You peeled up the jacket from around your hand and saw the blood was much slower, stopping to a trickle eventually. “Hey! I think I stopped it!”

“Great,” he winced, slamming his hand against the pavement. “Everything in me wants to just rip your hand out of my insides. God, you have no idea how badly I want to do that right now.”

“S’kinda how period cramps feel,” you said. “This is a little more extreme though.”

“I would hope so,” he said. You leaned over and looked at his leg but it looked decent for the moment. “So, we’re just gonna sit here then until a car comes.”

“I think that’s the plan considering either of us moves and you’re dead,” you said. 

“Okay. Good plan,” he said. He rested his hand on your arm and pushed up your short sleeve. “Is you shoulder dislocated?”

“Yeah,” you said. He frowned and you laughed. “Dad, I’ll live.”

“You’re hurt.”

“Yeah but you’re way worse so I’m in charge. It’s pain. I’ve dealt with it before. I can deal with it now,” you said. He leaned his head back against the pavement, looking up at the sky. “Don’t go and die on me now.”

“I’m okay. The searing pain is keeping me awake,” he said. You looked around for a car but saw no headlights in either direction. “If a car doesn’t come, it’s okay, munchkin. You’re giving me a shot I shouldn’t have right now.”

“I’m not letting go until I pass out or you’re...a car will come,” you said. 

“Honey, be realistic. I’ve lost a lot of blood,” he said. “Odds-”

“I get it. You’re very likely going to die. Now stop talking like that and tell me you’re gonna be fine,” you said. 

“I’m gonna be alright,” he said with a smile. “So. Anything on your mind you want to talk about?”

“I wish I went to med school but no, not really,” you said. He chuckled, shivering a bit when he stopped. You leaned over top of him, the rain hitting your back and giving him some relief from it.

“You don’t have to do that,” he said.

“Are you always this grumpy when someone tries to take care of you?” you asked. 

“Quite possibly,” he said. “Well, while I have you as a captive audience, I might as well tell you now.”

“Tell me what?” you asked.

“I had no idea what I was doing most of the time when it came to you. We made it up as we went,” he said.

“You knew exactly what to do,” you said. 

“I slept outside your room once. I was afraid you’d try running away again,” he said. 

“Dad.”

“I didn’t even want this many kids and then we had the three and it was all good. You were never in the picture,” he said.

“Why did you want to adopt?” you asked. You were freezing and hiding the shake in your body, your dad not looking so hot himself. 

“There was this young guy at the brewery at the time. He went on and became a lawyer I think. He um, we were talking one day and he told me he grew up in foster care during his teenage years. I got the jist that it really sucked. It wasn’t really even that big of a deal and I thought it over at home that night and I looked around the house and thought, we got the space. We have the means. We could do something good,” he said. “It was just an idea for a while and then one day I said to De, let’s do this and that’s how we started.”

“I’m glad you did,” you said. 

“Me too,” he said. He pushed up the back of your shirt and you knew he saw the blood you felt there. “Let me see.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said, twisting your body farther away. 

“You need to get help for yourself,” he said. You shook your head and he scoffed. “I wasn’t asking.”

“Make me. Oh wait, you can’t.”

“I know I can’t,” he grit out. “If something happens to you because you were trying to save me, I can’t live with that.”

“It’s a cut! I have lots of cuts and my shoulder is killing me and I know I have a concussion and my whole body hurts and I’m freezing but it doesn’t matter. Why do you not-”

“If you were where I am right now and Allie or Colin was hurt, more hurt than they’re letting on, barely keeping you alive, you think you’d tell them to save you over themselves?”

“No,” you said quietly.

“Then you know exactly why.”

“But I’m not a parent right now. I’m the kid in this situation and I am terrified. I feel like that ten year old girl that watched her parents die slow and in pain and she couldn’t help them. All I did was get bigger. I didn’t learn a damn thing in case it happened again,” you said.

“Y/N. I’m alive right now because you are saving my life. You pulled me out, you got me breathing again, you wrapped up my leg and you quite literally have your hand inside of me piecing me together. You’re doing all of this in the middle of winter, trying to keep me warm and getting hypothermia yourself, pushing through wanting to fall apart all while you are very, very hurt. You want to know what you learned?”

“What?” you breathed out.

“Even if it’s hard and it hurts, you don’t give up. What have I always said? Just try for me. It’s all I wanted. I am more than okay if this is it for me because right now, when it’s probably the hardest it’s ever been for us, you’re trying. You’re trying harder than I’ve ever seen you and that’s all you gotta do the rest of your life. Just try and it’ll work out how it’s supposed to.”

“You’re not supposed to die,” you said. Your head got dizzy and your stomach churned, your dad staring up at you. “I’m gonna throw up.”

You turned your head away quickly, avoiding him and getting the pavement beside you. Thankfully most of it was clear after you’d emptied your stomach before.

“Concussion,” he said as you got your bearings back and took the brunt of the rain again. “Y/N.”

“I’m okay,” you said, taking a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

“I think you’re in shock.”

“Probably but you’re in it too,” you said. You were shivering harder now and you saw your arm start to shake. You grabbed it with your free hand, steadying it as best you could.

“Get in the car.”

“No.”

“You’re going to freeze and go into shock if you don’t get out of the rain. Get in the car.”

“No.”

“Get in the damn car!”

“You’re a fucking idiot,” you said, his face in a scowl. “I’m not leaving, you goddamn idiot. I never was. Get that through your thick fucking skull!”

“Why won’t you get in the fucking car!” he shouted. “You fucking little shit, just get in the car. Don’t make me beg you. Get in the car. Please get in the car!”

“No. I’m not giving up on you. I’m not saving myself. I’m not and you can barely lift a finger. You don’t get to choose. I do.”

“You’re going into shock. You’re gonna die if you don’t get warm right now. Get in the car,” he said, closing his eyes. “Please, tall munchkin. Please. I can’t watch you die either. It’s not how it works. Don’t make me watch that.”

“Yet it’s perfectly fine for me to have to?”

“Because kids are stronger than their parents you dumbass,” he said. “Go. Please. You did your best. You still saved me. Why won’t you listen to me?”

“Because I was the person screaming and shouting on the side of the road on a cold rainy night once. I was the person that pushed and pushed and tried so hard to get you to go away. But you wouldn’t give up on me. You were never going to give up on me. It’s a decade later and now it’s your turn to learn that I was never walking away from you either. I don’t care what you want. I don’t care if this is scary for you. I was terrified of you and I believed you. For a split second I let myself believe you and that was the start for me. So you can be as scared as you need to be because I’m not giving up on you. Trust me. Please.”

“Okay,” he said quietly, nodding his head. He was silent for a beat, nothing but sniffles in the air. “I’m gonna wait as long as I can but the next time I ask you to get in the car, will you get in there?”

“Yes.”

“Are you lying?”

“I don’t know,” you said. 

“S’okay.”

He gave you a smile and you tried to return it, focusing on keeping your fingers clamped tight around the artery. 

“I wrote you a song,” he said. “It was gonna be on the album.”

“You want to sing it?” you asked, another round of tears hitting you.

“I’m getting kinda of tired, kiddo,” he said, closing his eyes again. 

“Dad,” you said, a light flickering off the pavement. You looked behind you and saw headlights headed your direction. “Dad! There’s a car!”

“Love you,” he mumbled. 

“No, you don’t,” you said, pinching his insides tighter, getting a small wince from him. “Awake.”

“Trying to,” he mumbled again. You heard the vehicle slow down and drive around the moose, stopping when it saw you. Someone got out of the pickup, another door opening up.

“Shit,” said the one guy, running over to you. He looked at you and your dad, staring at your hand. “Okay, there’s a hospital like five minutes from here. Tony! Get my snowboard!”

The other guy grabbed a board from the back of the pickup, rushing over with it. You got what he had in mind and moved aside as best you could, the two men rolling your dad on top of it to use as a makeshift stretcher.

“Up on 3. 1, 2, 3,” said the first guy. You groaned as you stood up, your back killing you but they were walking to the back of the truck bed, having you carefully climb up as they pushed him in. Tony climbed in the back with you before the other guy got behind the wheel and took off.

“You okay?” he asked you.

“Not really,” you said, Tony holding the board from moving as best he could.

“I’m Tony. That’s Ray. That your dad?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “I’m Y/N. Please tell your friend to hurry.”

“Ray! Floor it!” he said through the back window. The truck went far faster than it should have been going but soon you saw lights and civilization again, the truck fishtailing around into a parking lot. Your dad grunted which you took as a good sign.

“We need help right now!” said Ray as he ran out of the truck and over to an entrance. A few people in scrubs came rushing out with a stretcher, Tony jumping out of the way as they got a backboard under your dad. 

“You need to move, sweetie,” said a doctor but his eyes quickly went down to your hand and back up. “Get on.”

“What?” you asked.

“Straddle and get on the board,” he said. You climbed over top of your dad, someone holding your shoulders and making you yelp as you were moved backwards onto a stretcher.

“What happened?” asked a nurse as you were pushed inside. 

“We hit a moose,” you said, nearly throwing up again when you saw him in the light of the building. He was covered in blood and you caught your reflection in the glass, sporting a similar look. “He was out cold for a while. I couldn’t find a pulse so I hit his chest real hard and he popped up. I think his leg is broken and he had a cut on the side of his head and his torso was gushing and he lost a lot of blood, like a lot, and I couldn’t stop it so I shoved my hand inside and that was kind of working but he’s not talking anymore.”

“Okay, people let’s focus on that torso and get some blood in our friend here. What’s his name, sweetie?” asked the doctor in charge.

“Is that Jensen Ackles?” asked one of the nurses. You nodded and she dropped her jaw. “Oh my God. You’re Y/N. That’s his daughter.”

“Okay, Y/N,” said the doctor as someone wrapped you up in the world’s warmest blanket. You sighed and smiled for a brief moment, the doctor snapping his fingers. “Y/N, I need you to pay very special attention to me.”

“Okay,” you said, the blanket peeled away as someone started cutting off your shirt. “Excuse me. Buy me dinner first.”

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” said the doctor, your eyes going to a bag of blood flowing into your dad. “Whatever you do, do not unclamp your fingers inside of him, understand? I bet it’s getting painful and you might start cramping. You gotta hold on a little while longer for us, okay?”

“Not a problem,” you said. You felt a table be moved behind you and you were guided to kneel back on it. They started cutting off your dad’s clothes and you shut your eyes. “A little warning would be nice.”

“Keep ‘em closed,” he said. You were too worried to notice much when you felt your own clothes go, a gown tugged and buttoned on you. “Alright.”

You opened your eyes, a blanket over your dad’s lap. The main doctor examined the wound your hand was in, some other ones looking at his leg and head. You saw your dad flutter open his eyeballs, jerking his whole body when he looked around.

“Jensen. I’m Dr. Bradwick. You were in an accident. Your daughter, Y/N, is right here with us and she’s helping us help you right now so let’s keep the moving to a minimum and he’s out again,” said the doctor, your dad’s eyes closing once more. “Y/N, climb back on if you’re able to. I want a scan and then send these two up to the OR. Y/N, you’re going to have to go into the operating room like this and when the surgeon tells you to remove your hand, that’s when you do it, not a second before, understand?”

“Yes,” you said.

“You have some extensive injuries yourself. You’re in shock right now which is why you’re not feeling them. Your shoulder is dislocated, you’ve suffered blood loss yourself and have signs of a high grade concussion. When you let go, you’re going to get put back on a stretcher and then we’re going to take you for a few scans yourself, alright?”

“Is he gonna die?” you asked, wrapped up in the warm blanket once again, one tossed over the bottom half of your dad. 

“We’ll do our best,” he said. You nodded and after a few bandages were slapped on the two of you, you went down a few hallways, someone on either side of you keeping you steady. The shakes in your body were dying down as you warmed up some and you took your hand away from your wrist and gave one of your dad’s a squeeze.

It was small but you felt a finger move slightly.

You smiled to yourself as the blankets were taken away and someone put a big lead vest on you, covering most of your body and neck. You heard a buzzing and they took a picture of his torso, taking a few more of his leg and head too before you felt one of your shoulder be done.

“Alright, let’s send these two up,” said a nurse that stepped out. Five minutes later you were sat in the middle of an OR, people hooking up leads and things to your dad as he got more fresh blood in him. He was pale still and you squeezed his hand, not feeling any response. You scrunched up your face but a nurse directed you to look at a monitor. His heart rate and breathing were slow but they were still there.

“Good evening, everybody,” said a woman in a pair of dark blue scrubs. A pair of gloves were snapped on her and she smiled as she walked over. “Nice, cold, gloomy night out. So you must be the smart cookie, Y/N. I’m Dr. Bradwick.”

“I thought he was downstairs,” you said as she went over to a set of scans on the wall and started looking them over.

“That’s my husband,” she said with a hum. “Freddie, how’s the leg look?”

“Clean break,” said a younger man in light blue scrubs. “Needs to be set, a think a few pins and a stitch will do.”

“I agree. Bleeding?” she asked.

“Under control,” he said.

“Good. Once we have Jensen’s torso available, you can take lead on fixing the leg,” she said. “Head wound is superficial. We have a severed artery, right side of body. Let’s open, clamp what we can and then give Y/N’s hand a break,” she said. She wandered back over to the operating table, examining the wound. “Did you have any hand injuries?”

“Scratches was all. I put hand sanitizer on first if that helps,” you said.

“It actually does some. Y/N, you’re gonna sit right there until I tell you otherwise, alright? It’s probably gonna be a little bit longer but hopefully we can get your dad feeling better,” she said. “Let’s put him under.”

“What are his odds?” you asked. “Honestly.”

“The amount of time you’ve been holding him together, the previous blood loss, the lack of blood flow...real talk, it really depends on how much of a mess he is in there and how much he fights for it. He’s in the beginning stages of hypothermia which may hurt him or may help him. The human body is tricky. We will do what we can but I can’t guarantee he gets up from this table. He’s still awake. If you want to say anything before he goes under, say it now,” she said.

“Remember when I said I didn’t want a dad? But I’d take a Jensen? I wanted one. I was afraid. But then I wasn’t, because I tried, for you and for me. If you can’t do this dad, it’s okay. If I don’t, if I don’t talk to you for a really, really long time again or ever again, it’s okay. All you have to do right now is try. Just try to stick around as hard as you can. I love you,” you said. The room was quiet and you sniffled, giving the doctor a nod.

“Alright. Let’s get to work.”

Twenty minutes later your hand was shaking, cramps rippling through it, the doctor giving you a sideways glance.

“Y/N. In a moment I’m going to have you release your hand,” she said. “When that happens, I want you to remove your hand as quickly but gently as you can. Don’t touch any of the other clamps. Owen and Derren here are then going to move you onto the table right by my right side. They’re going to move you away quickly and then you’ll be taken to the OR across the hall to repair your injuries. Understand?”

“Yeah,” you said, squeezing your eyes shut. “I’m dizzy.”

“I know. One more minute,” she said. “Everyone in your positions.”

She looked around for a moment before looking up at you.

“On three, let go. One, two, three.”

You unsqueezed your fingers and pulled your hand out, wincing at the sudden pain. You felt yourself get moved and collapsed onto the table, your head swimming. The last thing you caught sight of was the floor before you were passing out completely.

When you woke up, you were in a room, a doctor writing something down on the chart at the end of the bed. You were alone aside from the other empty bed, your arm in a sling and it felt like you were laying on a wad of bandages.

“I wasn’t expecting you awake so soon,” he said. He took out a flashlight from his pocket and held up a finger. You followed it and he smiled. “Good. Your concussion appears to be doing better.”

“I passed out,” you said.

“From exhaustion, not a head injury. Your shoulder was put back in place and we discovered a few deep lacerations along your back that required stitches. You were treated for hypothermia, shock and a concussion as well. You got close to the hairy edge, Y/N,” he said. “You need extensive rest.”

“Where’s my dad,” you said.

“He’s recovering from surgery in the ICU. He’s quite weak,” he said. You sat up and closed your eyes. “You can see him later.”

“Buddy, I’m seeing him right now,” you said, swinging your legs off the edge of the bed. 

“No, you’re not. He’s not even conscious at the moment.”

“Where’s Dr. Bradwick?”

“In the ER.”

“The other one. The surgeon,” you said. You tried to stand but he put his hand on your shoulder. “Buddy. Back off.”

“Dr. Kappers. A word,” said Dr. Bradwick as she popped in the door. She left with him and returned after a moment, giving you a smile. “Sorry about that. He’s not known for his bedside manner.”

“Can I see my dad?”

“I’ll do you one better. We’ll get you set up in his room,” she said.

“Thanks,” you said. You sat back on the bed and she undid a few things, soon pushing you out of the room and over to some elevators. “Is he okay?”

“He’s not great but surgery was a success. He’s going to need to take things slow for the next while,” she said. “You saved his life you know.”

“A physician’s assistant came to my school once to talk about careers. He told us a story about clamping an artery shut with his fingers. I guess I kind of remembered,” you said.

“I think Jensen owes you one for that,” she said, pushing you inside. She hit a button to go up and smiled. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you said. “Tired.”

“Those men that brought you in showed the police where your vehicle was. I believe your belongings are at the local sheriff’s office,” she said. “Oh and we were able to get your father’s contact information. Your mom was called and she let your husband know. They’re both on their way up from the states,” she said.

“Oh God, TJ,” you said, running your hands over your face. “He’s gotta be a nervous wreck right now.”

“Nothing wrong with having a husband that cares,” she said, the door dinging open. “Alright, I know you’re gonna jump out of bed and go over to your dad the second I leave the room but I don’t want you sleeping in a chair tonight. Got it? I will send my husband to come check on his lunch break if I have to.”

“I maybe promise?” you said.

“I like you,” she said, pushing you down the hall, pausing outside a door. “He should look a lot better than last time you saw him.”

She moved the bed inside a room, your dad asleep in the bed by the window. He had a cast on his right leg and a bandage around his head, a lot of leads and tubes running from him to machines close by but the blood was gone and he did look a lot more alive now.

“Thanks, Dr. Bradwick,” you said.

“I was in a car accident with my dad when I was a kid. I get it,” she said. She plugged in a few things for you and said a nurse would be in soon to get an IV in you. You hummed when she left, getting out of bed and grabbing a chair by the window, pulling it over to him. 

“Hey, dad,” you said, grabbing his hand. “Mom’s on her way and TJ too. They’re gonna smother us. That’s okay. I’m gonna stay right here until they get here though.”

For a moment you felt extremely tired and rested your head down on his unharmed leg. You used your good arm as a cushion as well, closing your eyes. Something tickled your head and your turned, seeing his hand trying to move on top of it. He didn’t open his eyes but you moved it for him, a brief smile crossing his lips.

“S’okay. Go back to sleep, dad.”

He half hummed and you felt yourself drifting off, a small gasp of air above you occurring.

“Not dead?” he murmured.

“No, not dead,” you said.

“Good.”

He was out like a light again and you smiled, a nurse walking in. She shook her head and got you up to your feet, helping you back in bed. 

“Can he have an extra blanket?” you asked as she stuck the needle in. She went to a closet in the room and took one out, spread it out over him lightly, finding another one and putting it over you. She pressed a button on the little machine for the IV and you felt the pain meds kick in, sending you to sleep quickly.

When you woke up, it was morning and your leg felt very hot. You blinked a few times, spotting a black tuft of hair curled up by it. You blinked again, recognizing the navy henley and the way the hair stuck up in the back. You smiled as you ran your hand over his head, TJ slowly waking up before jolting upright and giving you the biggest hug he dared.

“Hey, babe,” you said with a quiet laugh. “Miss me?”

“Never do that again,” he said. You cupped his cheek and smiled, a wave of relief crashing over him. 

“I’ll try,” you said. You looked to your right, your mom sitting by your dad’s side, watching him sleep. She got up when she saw you awake, walking over and hugging you. “Hi, mom.”

“TJ’s right. Never do that again,” she said. 

“We’re fine,” you said. “It looks worse than it is.”

“The doctors told us what happened,” she said. You turned away, smiling at TJ.

“Where are the kids?” you asked.

“JJ watched them last night and the Pads were taking them today,” he said. “Zepp flew home. Jared picked him up at the airport.”

“Sorry for ruining your guys trip,” you said, your mom shaking her head. 

“It’s fine. We’ll go on another one. I’m just glad you two are still here,” she said.

“We’re fine.”

“He should be dead. Maybe even you,” she said. “Please do not say you’re fine.”

“Mom. Last night was quite possibly the most traumatic thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t even know how to describe...I’m not gonna tell you everything that went down or was said. Dad is alive and so am I. We’ll get better. I’ll be better really soon even. It’s all there is to it.”

“They said you had your hand in him,” said TJ. 

“Yes, I did. Not as exciting as it sounds,” you said.

“Hurt like a bitch though,” you heard chuckled from the bed nearby. All three of you turned towards him, getting a sleepy smile in response. “I’m starving. We never got dinner.”

“I will go find you guys some food, pronto,” said TJ. He gave you a kiss before he left, your mom returning to her seat and staring at your dad.

“I’m fine,” he said, getting a hug and kiss from her.

“Don’t go yet,” she said quietly.

“Not going anywhere, honey,” he said. He looked over at you and smiled. “Not if I can help it.”

Two Months Later

“I’m going to grab another beer,” said TJ. He got up from his seat around the fire pit in the backyard and you waved a finger, your dad giving one as well.

“De, mind grabbing some stuff to make hotdogs?” he asked.

“Not at all,” she said. They both head inside the house, your dad quiet as you both watched the fire. He scratched his stomach and you saw him lift up his shirt, glancing at the red line across his abdomen.

“You could get a tattoo,” you said. “To cover it up.”

“It doesn’t bother me,” he said. “What does bother me is the fact you risked your life for mine. You have children.”

“So do you.”

“Y/N. You’re young. You have your entire life ahead of you.”

“Adults have feelings, dad. You don’t get to love me more than I love you. You don’t get to put a cap on that for me. I am a parent. I do understand where you’re coming from. I do. But abandoning and giving up on you was not going to happen.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you didn’t give up on me.”

He looked down to his lap, pursing his lips.

“I hope we’re never in that kind of situation again but dad, I can’t promise you how I’m going to act. I know it’s your job to protect me. Don’t be mad at me for doing it back every once in a while is all.”

“I’m not mad, kiddo. I just want you safe.”

“Me too,” you said. He gave a quick smile, slumping down in his chair. “You busy tomorrow night?”

“No. Why?”

“I’m gonna take you out for our dinner we never had,” you said.

“Just us?”

“Just us,” you said. “That okay?”

“Yeah. I’m looking forward to it,” he said. You tucked your feet up under you, closing your eyes briefly. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You did it first,” you said.

“There’s my sap,” he chuckled.

“Shut up, dork,” you said, rolling your eyes.

“You’re still smiling,” he said, hearing the backdoor open. “You good, kiddo?”

“Yeah. I’m good, dad.”

You smiled and looked down, spotting a big looking bug by your feet. You jumped out of your chair and he laughed, getting to his feet and stepping on it with his shoe. You looked around for any more, a grin spreading across his cheeks.

“What?” you said, brushing yourself off.

“I still got it,” he said, taking a seat and pulling you down into the chair with him. “No creepy crawlies over here.”

“There better not be,” you said as TJ and your mom returned.

You weren’t too hungry for a hotdog but you took a bite of TJ’s after he’d cooked one over the fire. After a little while the four of you grew quiet and a few crackles of the fire filled the night air.

“I’m exhausted. I’m going to head up to bed,” said your mom with a yawn.

“Night,” you said.

“We won’t keep Jensen up too long,” said TJ.

“Rascals,” he said. “I’ll be in soon, honey.”

Your mom hummed as she headed up into the house and TJ slumped down in his chair, watching the fire. He wiped at his face after a moment and started rubbing his eyes. You shifted a bit to get a better view but he kept rubbing.

“Get some ash in there?” asked your dad. He just shook his head and you sat up.

“Babe,” you said as it hit you. “He’s crying.”

“Am not,” said TJ, his voice giving him away.

“Hey,” said your dad. “Come here.”

TJ shook his head and your dad got up, dragging TJ over to the other side of the oversized chair. You turned to your side, TJ looking out to the yard.

“Hey,” said your dad again. “If you won’t look at me, at least look at your wife.”

TJ sniffled and turned his head over to you with a swallow. He looked at your dad quickly before settling back on you.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” asked your dad, putting his arm around his shoulders.

“It just hit me right then that if that truck hadn’t shown up, neither one of you would have been in that chair and I’d...you guys can’t leave De and me alone like that. We’d be wrecks and there’s no way my parents would ever...my dad would be yelling at me for crying right now,” said TJ, wiping off his face again.

“It’s alright,” said your dad, giving him a hug. TJ started to calm down and you cleaned off your face, finding TJ’s hand and giving it a squeeze. “Boys...guys...there ain’t nothing manly or tough about not crying. It’s healthy. Don’t be embarrassed, TJ. You never have to be afraid to do that in front of me, okay? I love you kid. We like to rag on one another but we love each other too. You have an amazing girl. She’s stronger than she looks. You’re stronger than you think you are too. So if it ever went bad, you’re gonna be okay. I promise.”

TJ nodded and your dad moved his other arm back around you, pulling you both into his sides.

“You feel any better?” he asked.

“Yeah,” said TJ. “Y/N’s been telling me it’s okay to get upset over the accident. I should have listened.”

“Normally it’s a wise move to listen to your wife,” he chuckled. “Thomas.”

He looked up at that, your dad’s face a little more hard.

“Are you still not speaking to your dad?” he asked.

“Not really. He asked if you guys were okay about a month ago but that was it.”

“TJ...I think it’s time you, me and your dad sat down and had a talk.”

“Why?”

“Because somehow he helped make you and a part of me has to believe that if he’s half as good as you are, it’s worth having a hard conversation.”

“He’s not like you,” said TJ, shaking his head. “He won’t be happy.”

“It doesn’t matter if he’s happy or not. I will make that very clear to him. You want to disagree with your child, that is okay. But Y/N, she’s not afraid to talk to me. A long time ago, before you were around, she was. She was afraid of me and I was afraid of her. There was a lot of crying and a lot of hard conversations, TJ. But that is why we got to the place where we are. You and I had one of those once and after that, things started to change between us, didn’t it. We’ve had conversations since about the big stuff and the little stuff. I am happy to be your dad, TJ. I am and I’m proud to be that to you. But as a dad, we’re going to have that talk with your dad, the three of us, and we’re going to give him an opportunity that he might not understand that he needs with you right now. Understand?”

“Yes,” he said with a nod. 

“Good boy,” he said, kissing his temple and giving you one as well.

“I can’t imagine what he was saying when you guys were like, dying,” said TJ. You looked at your dad and smiled, getting one in return.

“Oh, we were totally cool,” he said. You rolled your eyes and rested your head on his shoulder. “Weren’t we?”

“Oh, totally,” you said. 

“Liars,” said TJ. You laughed and heard him let out a quiet chuckle. 

“Okay?” asked your dad. TJ nodded and you heard him shift, your dad leaning back in the seat. “TJ.”

“Hm?”

“Go take your girl to bed. She’s worried and wants to cuddle you,” he said.

“Dad,” you said.

“It’s true.”

“In a minute,” you said, giving him a hug. TJ reached over and gave him one as well, you dad ruffling both your heads. 

“I love you guys too. Now shoo,” he said. “It’s pretty late.”

TJ hopped up and took care of the fire with your dad. He helped him slowly make his way up to the house while you held the door open.

“How’s your leg today?” you asked.

“Glad to be out of the cast,” he said. “I gotta start a running plan next week or something to work the muscles back up. I’m so not looking forward to it.”

“I bet you are,” you said. “Night dad.”

“Night kiddos,” he said. “Y/N.”

You held back as TJ headed for your old bedroom, your dad grabbing a book off the coffee table. 

“Have TJ read this. It’s for a spouse when their partner goes through a traumatic event. Spouses can get a form of PTSD without realizing it,” he said. 

“You think…” you said, nodding back.

“I’m not sure. I got it for mom and it made her feel a little better. It might help him too,” he said.

“Thanks,” you said. “Dad.”

“Mhm?”

“Go let mom take care of you, hm? Maybe not be a grump about it?” you said.

“Back at ya,” he said. “Night, tall munchkin.”

“Night, dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, kiddo.”

_________

A/N: Read the TJ’s Talk timestamp here!

[seita]

— bnha abc's: hitoshi shinsou [angst edition].

well, finally the angst! i have no idea what character i’ll do next but we shall see...

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ɴsғᴡ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ | ғʟᴜғғ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪᴏɴ

⤑ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧! | 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬  

A- Accident, Would they blame themselves if you died in an accident?

∴ unless he was the reason you were involved then no. ∴ he wouldn’t search for correlation to himself in the event of an accident. ∴ he’s not looking to throw a pity party for himself. ∴ you were the one who was dead, after all.

B- Break up, How would they deal with one?

∴ it depends on the relationship. ∴ if it was long term, a few years together then he’s pretty broken up about it ∴ and will probably take a while to get himself back on the market ∴ but a relationship that’s only been a handful of months ∴ he figures it’s best to just move on from it.

C-Crying, Are they much of a crier?

∴ no not at all, really. ∴ sure, he feels sad but tears never fall from his eyes. ∴ however, if there is something traumatic that happens. ∴ he may shed a few tears into his pillow as he goes to sleep.

D-Death, How do they deal with any death?

∴ pretty well, actually ∴ he finds a way to cope so he can move on as quickly as possible ∴ that’s not to say he doesn’t mourn or just erase their memory ∴ he just moves to work past being broken up about it ∴ he doesn’t want to go through his days with the heavy weight of a death on his mind ∴ the type of guy to visit graves and leave flowers for his loved ones once a month.

E-Emotion, What’s the emotion they tend to push away the most?

∴ anger. ∴ he doesn’t like to be angry and he doesn’t like to show anyone his anger ∴ that’s not always possible so he’ll remove himself from situations that make him angry ∴ he’ll go somewhere private where he can let his anger out without prying eyes. ∴ he feels like shit after losing his temper so he’ll apologize or you’ll have to console him and let him know it’s okay to be angry ∴ he’s human and bottling it up isn’t healthy ∴ he agrees but...tbh nothing changes.

F-Frustrated, How much would it take to push them off the edge?

∴ it truly depends. ∴ day-to-day, he doesn’t really get ticked off or upset easily ∴ he’s pretty patient tbh ∴ but in an event where he worked hard for something ∴ or he really, really had a drive to do something (like get into the hero course) ∴ and he fails to do it ∴ he is pretty easily set off. ∴ but he pushes past and works 10x harder than before until he accomplishes his goal. ∴ he’s a driven man.

G-Great Pain, What is the most painful thing they have witnessed?

∴ when he became a pro, the first time he failed to defeat a villain ∴ and many civilians perished as a result ∴ it’s something that absolutely haunts him. ∴ he had nightmares for weeks afterwards ∴ he fully went to a therapist ∴ like he was fucked up over it ∴ to this day, if he’s reminded of it he will literally get so anxious and depressed, even though he’s seen lots of casualties since then ∴ it was just that first failure that fucks him up.

H-Humiliation, How could they be humiliated?

∴ being cheated on. ∴ the idea that he wasn’t good enough, to the point his lover had to find someone else. ∴ that really damages his sense of self worth and self esteem which is already a bit low to begin with. ∴ he’d feel like there was something wrong with him and now everyone knew he was defective.

I-Injured, How do they handle themselves when injured?

∴ very calm and collected. ∴ he figures there’s no real reason to lose his head over it. ∴ panicking will only make the situation worse. ∴ if it’s a bad injury, he’ll seek help as fast as he can. ∴ if its a superficial wound he’ll probably handle it himself.

J-Jittery, Which part of their past makes them flinch or even worked up?

∴ his childhood. ∴ he was the target for teasing and bullying due to his quirk. ∴ so if anything reminds him of those times, he gets really down ∴ he doesn’t like spiral into depression or anything ∴ but he’ll feel anxious and self conscious until the moment passes

K-Kill, Would they kill for revenge?

∴ no, never. ∴ he’s worked so hard to become a pro hero that he wouldn’t want to jeopardize it by some sort of misconduct as that. ∴ also, he has been accused of having potential to become a villain ∴ and he doesn’t want to give anyone ammunition for that.

L- Loss, What was their greatest loss?

∴ he hasn’t actually experienced much loss in terms of losing anyone to death. ∴ when he was a child, he had a friend before his quirk manifested ∴ and accidentally used it on them, unsure of how to control it ∴ and it scared the other boy so bad he stopped being friends with him ∴ that hurt shinsou pretty badly. ∴ he also probably lost a pet dog, which was traumatic because of how  much he depended on the furry animal for comfort

M- Mistakes, How much do they want to fix the mistakes of their past?

∴ shinsou isn’t the type of person who will do things that have the potential for regret ∴ he thinks his decisions over thoroughly and runs through all options before choosing the most logical one ∴ of course, he fucks up sometimes but ∴ he stands by his decisions, confident that he did the best possible thing he could have. ∴ being a pro hero doesn’t allow for him to regret things -- if he stops to mourn every civilian loss, for example, he would only be run into the ground. ∴ that doesn’t help anyone.

N-Need, How would they react if you needed emergency surgery?

∴ calm and collected ∴ especially if you’re scared ∴ then he’s going to make sure he’s a pillar for you to lean on ∴ that’s not to say on the inside he isn’t losing his mind ∴ bc he def is ∴ he just finds it counterproductive to stress you out while you’re already scared of the surgery ∴ it would get neither of you anywhere good ∴ once you’re in surgery, he’d be anxious as he waited. ∴ he’s check the time and refuse to leave the hospital until the doctor announces you’re safe.

O-Outrage, What makes them angry?

∴ betrayal. ∴ shinsou, when he trusts, he trusts hard. ∴ he puts his faith into them and expects them to stand by his side ∴ so if, for example, you used an insecurity of his against him in an argument. ∴ or cheated on him. ∴ or spilled a secret he told you in confidence ∴ he will be pissed. depending on how bad it was, he’s liable to break up with you. ∴ naturally, once his trust is broken, however, it’s near impossible to fix ∴ so good luck getting your relationship back to how it used to be lol

P-Pressure, What stresses them out to the breaking point?

∴ training ∴ he works hard to better himself to become the best hero possible ∴ but it stresses him out that he’s not improving fast enough, he’s not doing enough, he’s falling behind others ∴ he’s really hard on himself and his drive only makes the thought of failure terrifying to him. ∴ he doesn’t want to fuck up and lose his chance at his dream.

Q- Qualify, What part of themselves do they see as dangerous?

∴ his quirk, naturally. ∴ it’s a pretty dangerous quirk but ∴ truthfully, everyone’s quirk is dangerous in some way. ∴ it’s just that he’s always been trated as if his quirk was the worst possible outcome he could have been born with. ∴ so he feels like his quirk is the Most Dangerous.

R-Rock, What weighs them down?

∴ the idea that his quirk, very well could be a villains quirk. ∴ he worries that he might abuse it by accident and fuck everything up ∴ his quirk is different from combat quirks or rescue quirks ∴ he can control people. he can lock them into their own minds and force their bodies to do anything he wants without having to lift a finger. and there’s nothing they can do it about it. ∴ that scares him. ∴ it’s such a powerful quirk ∴ and it’d be so easy to abuse it ∴ he worries about his own morality at times, due to all the times he’s been called a villain ∴ it makes him doubt himself even though he knows himself better than that.

S-Sorrow, Would they feel empty after your death?

∴ very much so. ∴ shinsou is the type who gives himself completely to relationships ∴ whether it’s platonic or romantic, he puts 100% in. ∴ so to lose someone he had cared for so completely ∴ leaves him with a devastating emptiness ∴ he’s not going to know how to fill the gap your presence left behind for a long time.

T-Time, What if they had a limited time to live?

∴ he wouldn’t panic ∴ he’d spend the time doing everything he needed to do ∴ like see his mother, hang out with his friends, eat his favorite food, spend a night with you ∴ he’d be determined to make sure he wouldn’t regret wasting the time he had left ∴ so he does everything he feels is necessary for having the happiest time that he has left.

U-Urge, How badly do they get the urge to see you after separating?

∴ on a day to day basis, not much ∴ he’s very good at occupying his mind and thinking logically about whether it makes sense to see you or not. ∴ most of the time it’s not. ∴ he’s not the type to go crawling back to his ex unless it’s something he needs to fix with you. ∴ but at night, when he cant sleep ∴ his mind will automatically wander to you ∴ thinking about how it felt when just a few days, weeks, months ago you were curled up beside him in bed.

V-Vent, How do they get rid of feelings they find unnecessary?

∴ he’s actually really damn good at communication ∴ he is so good at just talking things through ∴ it helps him sort his thoughts and it keeps him calm, rather than getting worked up and upset ∴ he prefers to have healthy ways to release his negative emotions

W-Wild card, A random angst headcannon.

∴ when the bullying over his quirk got worse the older he got ∴ as people started to look at him like he was going to harm them ∴ he got frustrated, angry even ∴ he went off on his mom -- blaming her for giving him such a shitty, terrible quirk ∴ he said some extremely hurtful things in his anger ∴ and the picture of his mom’s hurt face over his words drives him insane ∴ to this day, he still feels like he’s trying to make it up to her. ∴ truthfully, it’s been forgiven and forgotten for a long time but ∴ he doesn’t believe he deserves that just yet.

X- X-ray, What makes them transparent? How obvious can they get around something they hate?

∴ you really will not know when this guy hates you ∴ he seems to have mostly just, cold indifference to majority of people ∴ so him hating you; being ignored or treated coldly ∴ will literally not even make you feel hated ∴ it just seems like his default ∴ he’s pretty open about his opinions though ∴ so if you talk about something and ask what he thinks of it ∴ if he hates it, like a movie, he’ll just come right out and say it tbh ∴ so he’s like 50/50 transparent.

Y-Yearning, Do old memories make them yearn for your touch?

∴ yes. ∴ shinsou is the type of guy to look through his phone at old texts and pictures ∴ when he lies in bed at night, he thinks of his fondest memories ∴ he won’t actively seek you out if it’s not logical -- like if you’re an ex. ∴ but if you’re available for him, he’ll seek you out with a deep craving for you. ∴ he wants to make more memories while he can.

Z-Zest, Add your own letters!

[Parents Headcanon] ∴ when he was a baby, his father left him and his mom ∴ that left his mom to take care of a baby all on her own ∴ she was a young mom too, had him pretty early in life; about 18 or so. ∴ so she struggled really badly ∴ he regrets all the trouble he gave her when he was naive to the struggles of parenthood ∴ once he got older and realized how much his mom did for him ∴ he began to work hard around the house so she could relax when she got home from work, cooked dinner, and never asked for anything he didn’t absolutely need ∴ he absolutely adores his mom ∴ and the idea of ever being without her terrifies him.

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