#i decided to drop out of politics because i don't have the mental energy to spare arguing but still not making a difference

[liar-remastered-2011]

dear god please give me the brain cells to not engage in internet arguments i don't have the energy to spare for amen

[ivomartins]

Sorry was casually reading through your blog and I just want to agree with all of your points. Not middle eastern but live in a non western country where despite some progress is still VERY conservative on a lot of matters. I love your take on tolerating vs accepting things as they are cause misogyny and all that stuff are so deeply rooted in culture and society that it cannot he so easily changed.

Also life's already miserable, why can't people just let people be, let them have their fun, it doesn't really harm anyone. A stranger on the internet romancing problematic pixels is the LEAST of your concern.

no apologies needed! thank you so much for your support and for reaching out with your insight <3 i really appreciate it :')

it's hilarious because there really was this expectation that i have to take this aggressive stance and raise hell when it's like. if i adopted that kind of mentality then i would need to drop my parents (bc guess what my mom also has misogynistic tendencies lol), my grandparents (bc it's the same with my grandma woohoo!), my uncles, my brothers, my cousins, my guy friends and live in complete isolation, not even just from men bc a lot of women here share the same problematic views, just to prove a point and live a politically correct (from a western view) life because guess what, all these people i mentioned WITHOUT EXCEPTION have displayed/expressed/practiced misogynistic views. and guess what i actually argue with them and try to educate them and have done that my whole life but has it led to any actual change? no. instead there's this running joke in my family about me being a feminist (derogatory) and i get made fun of and still nobody changes their ways

so instead of just continuing my life stewing in womanly rage and hating my life and everyone in it, especially because i don't have the luxury to just Leave and decide i'll be living somewhere else, i've made the healthy choice to just tolerate and focus my energy on myself and being a better person in my core instead of forcing that onto others or flipping out against anyone who doesn't share my views. because no matter what, i don't have the luxury of the choice to just disassociate myself from problematic shit like this when it permeates every corner of the society i live in. i'm only one person and i think i have the right to choose the stance that works best for me and my happiness when it comes to this losing battle. because that's literally exactly what it is

but no, apparently all this nuance and grey area doesn't matter for shit, i'm just "justifying misogyny"!!! LOL and what's even more hilarious is that the person sent me ANOTHER ask literally not acknowledging a single point that i raised or even trying to pretend they want to have an actual discussion but arguing further, clearly just for the sake of arguing which actually takes away from the validity of their points 🤷🏼‍♀️ you should be debating because you want to see others do better and make a change, not just to get the "i'm right and they're wrong" kick out of it lol

[brooklynislandgirl]

11, 20 for the shipping meme

Something Just Like This || Accepting

how long does your muse have to know someone before they decide to ask them out?

I cannot really answer this question and do it justice because quite honestly? I do not think Beth has ever actually asked anyone out on a romantic date in all of her life.She was very sheltered in her upbringing, was given a nightmarish description about what sex and romance was about, and most of the time she's been given a 'proper' escort to many society and charity or political function though the Admiral or has attended these things with her brother. Adding to all of this is her inherent demisexuality and more importantly what is known as quoiromantic nature; she doesn't feel primary sexual attraction to really anyone, and only secondary attraction once she's established a deep emotional connection to the person. Her romantic attraction is wibbly-wobbly in the sense that for her, there are no real distinctions between romantic or platonic forms of love. Which one can understand can be awkward AF. There are several ships on this blog that have taken literal years to form, and I do mean real time, not story wise. Some have been very one-sided because while Beth might feel something, she will never really force herself onto someone else, if she even tells them at all. She also very firmly believes that if she ever uses the L word, then she's pretty much beginning a count down to when the other person will leave her. I think if the date was very upfront and platonic ~coffee with a friend, movie with a relative, some sort of event with a co-worker~ it's a lot easier for her not to get wound up in her deep-rooted insecurities and paranoia. She will more often than not insist on paying for whatever the date it, and likely her favourite things to do with someone else are dancing and surfing. Beth is very sweet, unquestionably loyal, and does her best to appear as bright, friendly, and soft as possible. She is exceptionally agreeable even if it ends up costing her time, energy, or mental/physical well-being. But it might take months or even years for her to realise she wants to date someone, and by then, the person ~if they were interested at all~ have moved on.

~*~

20. what would push you to drop a ship?

Oh geeze. I mean, I'd like to think I am pretty easy going as long as there's mutual respect happening between the other mun and myself. Notice, I say mun…because I don't mind writing toxic or questionable situations. Life happens, not every person you meet is a good one, at least for you, etc. But the bond between muns has to have solid foundations first and foremost before I will consider a ship much less attempt to write one out. Beth is a weird little bunny, after all. Things that could come up though is…

I. Writing nothing BUT nsfw material.

Look, like everyone else, naughty-times can be quite fun. Especially when you and your mutual have a good flow between them. But at the same time, if all I wanted to do was write 'smut', I could do fan-fiction and only have to worry about what makes me happy. I want slice of life! I want conflict and drama! I want serious moments and silly ones! She is a witch after all and in most verses, a nurse. There's life and death happening and she needs to be a part of it.

II. Using her to come at Riley.

Is Beth my gate-keeper for her technically canon sibling? Yes, yes she is. I have spent 8 years or so trying my best to flesh her out as a character, to give her a well-rounded back story, to make her the best character that I can. And in those years, I have been told by at least one person that "Your writing style and mine just aren't compatible" only for that same mun, a couple months down the line to find Riley and praise my writing, my character development and growth. All because he is a pretty man with a big….ego. And they were absolutely shocked when I pointed out that I. Am. The. Same. Mun. And the writing is the same except for the FC and the Pronouns. Now, I get it. Beth is an OC and a lot of people have had bad experiences with them. Not a lot of people want to write with one. Not a lot of people are interested in the amount of work I've put into her, want to ask questions, want to learn her as she and I are learning their interpretation of someone ELSE's OC…oops, I mean canon character. But that's no excuse to treat her like a joke just because her brother is more interesting, more…masculine…and more likely to crush every last feeling you or your muse ever had. Really, those are the two things I'm not willing to at least discuss.

[dogsliampaynedoesntinstagram]

An unpopular take, maybe, but I simply don't find the Matty Healy / Taylor Swift discourse interesting or useful. I get the critique that modern political culture overvalues speech acts (a very trenchant critique I've heard in the past is that now people believe posting on the internet is activism), I get Matty's meta critique of consumption in the internet era, I get the ironic humor of The Adam Friedland Show podcast, I don't think Matty is vile or antisemitic or racist or whatever. I just, personally, find the way that those critiques are made and who they're turned on to be so navel-gazing. If you strip away the layers of meta commentary and irony, I feel like you just wind up in a place where you're saying, oh, the problem is that these people in marginalized communities who didn't understand that my statements were made in the context of an ironic meta commentary on performance of values on the internet are terminally online and got too upset on the internet. And like, honestly? sure. true to a certain extent. People have certainly gone way overboard in their responses to these things. But in the broader context of our current political state, it feels like it's just contributing to the Left once again eating itself, unable to distinguish between an imperfect ally and an enemy. Is the problem really terminally online teenagers who wrote a cringey, boundary-less open letter to Taylor Swift? Is that what we want to spend our time and mental energy calling attention to and critiquing? Or is that mostly just a problem for famous people who are slowly being driven crazy by having to see people constantly misunderstand them on the internet?

For what it's worth, my opinion is driven at least in part by my assumption that this attention and backlash is at least in part intentional. For as much as everyone has been talking about these two people, I guess not very many people have actually paid attention to what Matty Healy/The 1975 are currently doing, but they've been releasing a series of videos called "A theatrical performance of an intimate moment". In the second video in the series (ironically dropped the same day as the Taylor/Joe breakup news), Matty decides he wants to be transported in a suitcase to avoid attention (something Taylor Swift famously did) because the fame is getting to him, he doesn't want to be touched, and he "doesn't want any more bracelets that say that I'm gay", said while pointing to a bead bracelet that looks like the friendship bracelets that people are making for the Eras tour. And in a later episode, he specifically talks about needing to find a girlfriend. So, real relationship or not, it seems kind of clear to me that there is at least some level of performance/performance art occurring. I'm open to being happily surprised by whatever the point of this art turns out to be, but I'm not optimistic.

Lots of really interesting thoughts anon - and I think we come from slightly different perspectives, but I'll try and tease some of the points out.

I loved your summary - I don't quite agree, but it makes it very easy to discuss. You think these sort of discussions boil down to people saying: "The problem is that these people in marginalized communities who didn't understand that my statements were made in the context of an ironic meta commentary on performance of values on the internet are terminally online and got too upset on the internet."

And I have two different thoughts about that - which address quite different aspects. The first is that I would always reject the idea that it's a problem that people don't get 'ironic humour'. There is nothing more tedious than people wanting to be edgy, but also wanting everyone to love them. I think people can and should have whatever reaction they want to the Adam Friedland Show (I listened and I fucking hated it - quite boring on top of everything else). But that in order to do useful politics and understand the world there has to be a gap between someone's personal reaction and someone's political analysis. That's what I find the Gary Younge article 'racism is a system of power not a series of gaffes' so useful at articulating.

The other point is that I don't think it's useful to characterise the fandom response as coming from 'marginalised communities'. Some of the people talking are from marginalised communities, but nowhere near the majority. And I think it's really important to push back against fandom's tendency to paint itself as a whole as marginalised in some way (this is a much bigger issue that I was talking quite a lot about with the Niall and fanfic debate).

I do think that part of the problem of this discussion (and why I find it interesting - even if I agree that there are very tedious elements) - is that there can be so many different views and assumptions that underlie where people end up that aren't articulate.

I really reject the idea that this is the left eating its own - or that it has to be. Partly that's because I see this as being much more about fandom and how fandom operates than about politics. But it's also because I think there are really basic answers to the question of how you distinguish between the enemy and an imperfect ally. It's incredibly important to both solidarity and coalition building that we are able to say 'I disagree with this argument' without that automatically meaning 'the person who is making it is bad and wrong'. Collapsing the two together is fundamentally unuseful - and ultimately individualising.

You ask both what the problem is and what the stakes are - which are great questions. I don't think fans without boundaries are a political problem (although there are many political elements). I absolutely wouldn't write about this or draw attention to it in any other space but a fandom one.

But I do think the stakes are much higher than you do. If I thought this discourse was only having an impact of Taylor Swift and Matty Healy then I wouldn't think it was worth talking about. One of my opinions that I haven't necessarily spelled out - is that it's really important within fandom to understand that the objects of fandom and what people think of hte objects of fandom are not that important. I sometimes do get annoyed/frustrated/upset with other people's views about 1D members, but I do try and make sure that I remind myself that it's OK that people disagree about celebrities.

If there are stakes in fandom behaviour, it's not about the implications for the objects of fandom, but the implications for the fans. And I guess one thing that I assume, is that people are unlikely to treat themselves, or the people around them more generously than they treat celebrities. That a culture that encourages polarised thinking and responding to polarised thinking by attempting to control others - has an impact on the people who are participate. Now that's not necessarily evidence based - it's just a vibe. But it's the reason that I do think the only useful response to this is to emphasise that this isn't the only way to navigate the world. And anything else is just talking about the issues because they're interesting.

But I do think it's worth saying that the idea that you get a say in who someone else dates is really fucked up and can have really fucked up implications for people who believe it. Not just because of how they might treat people - because the corollary is that other people get a say in who you date.

Having said all that - I won't go fully into the second point. I'll just say that one of the things that I find interesting about both Taylor and Matty Healy is that they're both very aware of their image, but it manifests itself in different ways (Taylor is very controlled, Matty Healy is much more chaotic, but often more meta). And on top of that I think in this circumstance what we're seeing is also influenced by the fact that we're all people as well as images - and being human is a pretty messy reality.

[painted-doe]

I've been recommended to read The Barnes Files, but I see it's been a WIP for... a while. Do you have plans to finish it? I don't mean this to rush or pressure you, just want to know if I should subscribe and read when it's done or if it's better to consider it may not be completed in the foreseeable future and decide from there.

Thank you and take care!

Hi anon, thanks for asking! Yes, I absolutely do have plans to finish it! I have pretty solid rough drafts for at least three more chapters (or possibly more... gulp), plus about 5000 words of a standalone side story about Raynor and her own struggles as she takes on the best and worst patient of her entire career: Bucky Barnes.

(Also, I am absolutely tickled that someone recommended my work!!! Major heart eyes over here. Please let them know how much that means to me.)

On a more serious note, I'm truly sorry I haven't been more active in the last few months; my IRL work has drained every last drop out of me this last year, including my creative energy, and I've been struggling with my mental health. I love my job, but lately it's taken way more of me than I'm comfortable giving. (Glad to say things are looking up now, but... ugh, employment. The worst. If only writing stories about my blorbos came with a pension and benefits...)

Anyway, I really appreciate this ask because it's a very gentle, polite nudge in the bum to get this damn thing done! I hope I'm not biting off more than I can chew with this promise, but I am going to try to post one chapter of The Barnes Files every week for the rest of the year -- that should get the fic polished off.

Anyone else struggling with their WIPs want to jump on this bandwagon with me? Make a pact to post once a week for the rest of the year? I'll help you if you help me!

[star--anon]

3 Times Wilbur Was A Lee + No That's It, That's The Post

Heyyyyyyy~! I left Tumblr for a little while, but don't worry! I'm back! And I've finally written the prompt that was sent to me over 2 months ago! Yay!

"Listen, I'm sorry, alright?" Tommy huffed out, resting his head on Wilbur's shoulder. "I didn't mean to! Honest! You're just being a big bitch about it!"

Wilbur didn't say anything back. He simply stared at the front door, waiting for Phil to come home with his fixed sweater.

While watching Tommy parade around the house in Wilbur's favorite orange sweater was, to some degree, amusing, it was not amusing when Tommy ripped the soft fabric. And although Phil had gone to get the sweater fixed, Wilbur was still incredibly upset with the seventeen-year-old idiot. He stuck a Post-It on Tommy's forehead with the words, "I am an idiot and Wilbur Soot does not talk to idiots," scrawled on the yellow paper in messy handwriting. He then resigned himself to the couch and waited for Phil to come home, ignoring Tommy's attempts at getting his attention.

It seemed like Tommy wasn't exactly on board with his idea, judging by the way he plopped himself next to Wilbur and began poking his shoulder, repeating, "...Answer me, answer me, answer me, answer me, answer me, answer me..."

It took every fiber of Wilbur's being to not whack Tommy on the back of his empty little head.

"...Answer me, answer me, answer me, answer me..."

The words, "Shut it", weighed heavily on Wilbur's tongue, and it took a massive effort to not let it slip from his lips. He had told himself that he would not talk to Tommy, and he was going to keep that promise.

"...Answer me, answer me, answer me, not gonna stop until you answer me, answer me, answer me..."

Gradually, as Wilbur remained unresponsive, Tommy's poking became quicker and more aggressive until he missed his mark. Instead of poking Wilbur's shoulder, he ended up poking his ribs. The older started and swallowed a squeak of surprise. He hoped that Tommy hadn't noticed, but that hope quickly sank when he saw him grin widely.

"I saw that jump, don't try and hide," said Tommy, poking his ribs again. As impassively as he could, Wilbur reached out and grabbed Tommy's wrists tightly. He never spoke a word and kept his eyes on the front door. He was trying to ignore the kid, after all. He squeezed Tommy's wrists and let go, hoping that the boy had gotten the message.

Don't poke me, he silently said.

Unfortunately, Tommy was never good at listening. The moment his hands were free, he immediately returned to poking at Wilbur's ribs, this time with renewed energy.

"Ahaha-!"

Wilbur cracked.

He dropped the ignoring act and squirmed away from Tommy. In his desperation, he made the mistake of falling off the couch and onto the ground, allowing Tommy to sit on top of him and poke him more.

"G-Gehehet ahahaway!"

"I knew it! I knew you were just ignoring me!"

"Tohohommy, gehehet ohoff!"

"Nah. I'm having a lot of fun."

"T-Tohohommy, Ihi'm seheherious!" Wilbur tried to flip over to throw Tommy off him, but he quickly abandoned the attempt when Tommy dug between his shoulder blades. "Juhuhust gehehet ohohoff! Plehehease!"

Although Wilbur's thin shirt was doing nothing to protect him from Tommy's poking, the blonde still decided to take it up a notch. He slipped a hand underneath the shirt and rapidly squeezed his ribcage. Wilbur just about shrieked, frantically and jerkily pushing at Tommy's chest. His arms flailed around; Wilbur was stuck between trying to push Tommy off him or covering up his red face to preserve what little dignity he could save. The younger grinned widely, easily grabbing Wilbur's hands and pinning them down high above his head.

"TOHOHOMMY, WAHAHAIT! I-IHI CAHAHAN'T BREHEHEATHE!" Wilbur was bluffing and Tommy knew it.

"Calm down, you're breathing just fine."

"GEHEHET OHOHOFF!"

"Awww, is this a bad spot?" Tommy made an exaggerated sad face. "This is a bad spot for you, huh? Your ribs are ticklish? Is that what this is? Hm?"

Wilbur whined at the teasing, turning a deep shade of red.

"TOHOHOMMY!" he complained. The squeezing and pokes to his ribs made it difficult to think, so he couldn't get out much more. Given the opportunity, he might have been able to formulate a proper and cohesive argument and rationalization to persuade Tommy into halting his petty actions.

He wasn't given the opportunity.

The laughing on his behalf and the tickling on Tommy's seemed to weaken Wilbur because he was finding it incredibly hard to do anything but lie there and take it. Take the digging nails between his ribs, the occasional raspberry on his ribs, the random squeezes and pokes and prods and wiggles and skitters and rubs on the bones and gently scratching...

"TOHOHOMMY! PLEHEHEASE, YOUHU'RE GOHOHOING TO KIHILL ME!"

"Calm down," scoffed Tommy. "I'm not going to kill you."

Still, he relented and stopped his attack, letting Wilbur (finally) take a breather.

"Are you okay?"

"Y-Yeheheah..."

"Cool."

"Cahahan youhu get ohohoff mehe?"

Tommy blinked. This was the first time in memory that Wilbur had asked for something — and politely too.

"Hm..." For a moment, Tommy considered it. Wilbur hadn't flipped him over and taken brutal revenge yet. He had asked nicely to be let up. It looked like he was sorry for ignoring Tommy. Well, then again, it only looked like he was sorry.

"Maybe if you apologize for ignoring," offered Tommy, "I'll let you up."

Wilbur glared at him. It was obvious he was trying to gain authority and control of the situation by activating his Big-Brother mode, but it was less effective when he was at Tommy's mercy.

"Fuhuhuck youhu," Wilbur snapped. "Let me up."

Tommy just shrugged. "Your funeral," he said, scribbling his fingers over Wilbur's ribs. The brunet screeched in laughter and immediately gave in.

"OHOHOKAY! OHOKAY IHI'M SOHOHORRY! SOHOHOHORRY!"

Huh. Well, that had worked out better than expected. Tommy made a mental note about Wilbur's ribs. What? It was valuable potential blackmail for later!

"Very sorry?"

"YEHES! V-VEHEHERY SOHOHORRY!"

"And you promise that you'll never ignore me ever again?"

"YOUHU SUHUHUCK!" Wilbur whined through his laughter.

"I don't hear you saying it~"

"NOHOT SAHAHAYING SHIHIT!"

"Don't think you have a choice here, Wil," Tommy murmured. Once more, he switched tactics, going from dancing his fingers around to digging in between each of Wilbur's ribs. Every once in a while, he'd blow a raspberry and smugly grin when he heard Wil shriek. "I think you better say it."

"IHIHI PROHOHOMISE IHI'LL-" Wilbur broke off with a high-pitched squeal as Tommy blew a raspberry on a particularly ticklish rib. "AHAHA-! NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!"

"Go on," coaxed Tommy. "Say "I'll never ignore you again, Tommy", and I'll let you up."

"DA-DAHAHAMN YOUHU!

"Say it!"

"IHIH'LL NEHEVER IGNORE YOUHU AHAHAGAIN, TO-TOHOHOMMY!" Wilbur managed to babble out.

Finally, finally, Tommy stopped. This time, with no intention of starting up again. "Really?"

"Yehes," Wilbur breathily replied. His chest rose and fell as he greedily sucked in some much-needed air. "I forgive you, okay? I'll stop ignoring. I don't think you're an idiot. I don't care about my sweater." At first, Tommy thought he was just saying it so Tommy wouldn't tickle him again. But that thought quickly left when Wilbur reluctantly grumbled out, "I love you. And I'm sorry."

"Awww! Thank you!"

"Now get the fuck off of me."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*

"Y'know, Tommy had a lot of fun telling me about his own tickling story with you," Philza helpfully informed, shifting slightly to better access Wilbur's underarms. He noticed that kneading circles made Wil's laughter go high-pitched, so he made sure to knead as many circles as he could. "But honestly, I think I'm having more fun than he did."

"AHAHAHA! PH-PHIHIHIL! PHIHIL IHIHI CAHAHAN'T! PLEHEHEHEASE! IHI- EEP!"

Phil grinned at Wilbur's reaction. He blew another raspberry on his neck and got the same response: a short, high-pitched shriek.

"You what? What is it, Wilbur?"

Wilbur simply shook his head, laughing too hard to be able to form coherent words. Had he not been sitting in Phil's lap, his arms held up with one hand and his underarms being tortured by a hand and a wing while another wing was running over his ribs, he might have been able to form a proper word. Phil noticed this and decided to give the musician a small break.

"...h-hehehe," Wilbur softly giggled. The tickling had stopped, but he still jerked and flinched and laughed like there were still fingers and feathers on him. "M-Mehehahaha..."

"What?"

"...mehahaha..."

"A-Are you okay?" asked Philza, starting to get worried. He hadn't taken it too far, had he?

Finally, after his breathing calms down and enough air gets into Wilbur's lungs, he whispered, "...m-mehehercy..."

"What's that?"

"H-Hahahave mehercy, Phihil." Wilbur shook his head once more, his giggles beginning to start up again. He tugged at his wrists, which were still held high above his head, and rocked side to side, almost like he was trying to evade poking fingers. The only thing was that Phil wasn't doing anything. "Cahahan't tahake ihit..."

"I'm giving you a break right now," soothed Phil. "I'm not an asshole."

"Yehes you ahahare," Wilbur cheekily said.

"Hey," said Phil. He ran his nails over Wilbur's ribs, earning a loud shriek. "I would be careful if I were you," he warned. "Don't forget, I know two of your spots now, and I fully plan on abusing my knowledge."

Wilbur squirmed in the avian's lap, his light-hearted threat forcing a whine out of him. His cheeks only got redder when he finally processed something that Phil had said earlier.

"Did he really?" he meekly asked.

"Did who really what?"

"Did Tommy really tell you about tickling me?"

Philza barked out a laugh. "You think Tommy's the type of guy to offer help in unloading the groceries?"

Wilbur flushed, his cheeks now a deep crimson. "Guess not," he grumbled. He had thought it was weird that Tommy was suddenly so eager to do a task that nobody liked doing — unloading the groceries — but he had just assumed that Tommy felt awkward around Wilbur after tickling him. He hadn't thought that... Wilbur kicked his legs as best he could and whined loudly.

"I can't believe you just stood there and willingly listened to Tommy talk about how he... how he tortured me to earn my forgiveness," he huffed.

"Torture," Phil snorted. "He didn't torture you. You make it sound like he had a knife and was drawing blood. According to him, all he did was tickle your ribs."

"W-Well, my ribs are very ticklish!"

"I noticed," Phil remarked. He dragged a single finger up Wil's ribs and smirked when Wilbur burst into sweet lil' giggles. Feeling a little evil, he added, "You know, he also told me get flustered easily~"

This, of course, flustered Wilbur. He buried his head in the crook of his arm, trying — and failing miserably — to suppress a goofy smile.

Phil took it as an invitation to continue.

"He also told me your laugh was adorable."

"Did he really-

"He told me you get all giggly when someone lightly rubs your ribs."

"Wh-What-"

"And that you get really red when someone tickle you."

"I don't-"

"You do, actually," Phil noted, eyeing the brunet's red face.

"Look," he said, booping Wilbur on the nose, "even your nose is red."

"I-"

"You look good though," Phil reassured. "Cute and a little messy, but good."

"St-Stop cutting me off!" spluttered Wilbur. The fact that Phil hadn't let him go yet probably meant that he planned on tickling him more, and Phil's constant interrupting wasn't helping Wilbur ease his nerves.

Phil's eyes widened at his outburst. "Well, there's no need to shout at your old man," he murmured. "I was just curious, that's all."

"S-Sorry..."

Phil hummed again, and the two fell into a comfortable silence — although Wilbur's nerves still didn't ease. Just as he was about to be asked if he could be let go, Phil said, "Aight, break's over. Let's start."

"Wait, what're you- AH! PHIHIHIL! NOHOHOT AHAHAGAIN!"

Phil cooed softly, drilling his wings into Wilbur's underarms while silently counting his ribs with his free hand. "I think Tommy was right; your laugh is adorable."

"FUHUHUHUCK YOUHUHU!"

Phil frowned at the vulgar language. He tugged Wilbur's arms to the side a little and began blowing raspberries on his ribs. Just as Tommy had told him, Wilbur immediately shrieked.

"AHAHAHA! WAHAHAIT! SOHOHORRY! PLEHEHEHEASE, IHIHI'M SOHOHORRY!"

Phil noticed that vibrating his fingers deep into Wil's underarms made him laugh louder than when he blew raspberries on his ribs. "Hey, I think your armpits might be more ticklish than your ribs!"

"PHIHIHIL!" Wilbur whined. "YOUHUHU'RE SOHO MEHEHEHEAN!"

"Me? Mean?" Phil gasped in mock offense. He ran the tip of his wing over Wil's left underarm while drilling circles into his right. The harsh contrast between the two sides was driving Wilbur insane! "I'm hurt, Wilbur. I'm genuinely hurt."

"IHIHI'M SOHOHORRY NOHOW STOP TIHIHIHICKLING MEHE!"

"Lemme sleep on it."

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*

"No, that wouldn't work either," Wilbur dismissed. He leaned back in his chair (or some stairs, depending on how you wanna look at it) and gazed out the window, a half-amused smile tugging on his lips as he watched Tommy and Tubbo assemble and reassemble a large pyramid puzzle. To Technoblade, he said, "Think of something better."

"I'm trying!" Techno frustratedly snapped. "You've been rejecting every idea I've come up with! Plus, you haven't come up with a single idea yet!"

"Yeah, because good ideas take a long time to think of!"

Techno rolled his eyes. "Yeah? Good ideas take a long time to think of? Seriously? That's your excuse?"

"It's not an excuse! I'm trying to focus, but you're distracting me!"

"I'm helping."

From downstairs, Phil tiredly sighed, pouring himself a cup of coffee. Wilbur and Techno were arguing. Again.

"What else is new," he muttered under his breath before sipping his coffee.

Sometimes, the avian questioned his decision to introduce his adopted family to Technoblade. At times, it was good to have his friend around; he was always happy to have a helping hand in organizing the family. Techno was a good big brother.

There were, however, some problems. Even though Technoblade was over a thousand years old, Nether piglins tended to live for millions of years. By piglin standards, Techno was barely a toddler. His youth — and therefore inexperience — caused some (read: a lot) of chaos and unnecessary bickering around the house.

For example, it was Tommy's birthday, and Techno and Wilbur had been assigned to give him a gift. Phil had initially thought it would be a nice team/brother bonding moment, but it just ended up being another excuse for the two to argue.

"What if we made him a giant cobblestone tower?" suggested Techno. "I have enough. We could build it all the way to the height limit. It'd probably make Tommy happy; he likes cobblestone towers of powers."

"No."

The piglin blinked at Wilbur's bluntness. He waited for an explanation. When none came, he prompted, "...Because...?"

"I just don't like the idea," Wilbur replied.

Techno threw his hands up in wordless fury. "You are impossible to work with," he stated. "Absolutely impossible."

"Think of some good ideas and maybe I'll be easier to work with."

Finally, Technoblade snapped. Wilbur had been rejecting every single one of his ideas with no satisfying explanation. It was honestly starting to get to him.

Making sure Wilbur was still distracted by something outside the window, he slowly reached into his pocket and pulled out a book and quill. Flipping to page thirteen, he slowly trailed a finger down the paper, quickly reading all the bullets.

- A video where he's singing incredibly off-key - His secret drawer of photos of Sally - The one page in his diary where he talks about how amazing Tommy is - A video of him strumming an air-guitar like he's at a rock concert - That one time he accidentally encased himself in obsidian and I had to get him out - That time he started talking about how incredibly Tommy was before realizing I wasn't Philza

None of these help, Technoblade thought, slightly crestfallen. Usually, his book had all the blackmailing information necessary for any situation. But none of the bullets were helpful in this certain scenario. Eventually, he reached the final bullet on page thirteen, the page specifically dedicated to potential blackmail on Wilbur Soot.

- Ticklish ribs The words, "+underarms", had been hastily scrawled underneath.

Huh. Technoblade glanced up at Wilbur, who remained oblivious to his growing evil scheme.

"Alrighty then," the piglin sighed, standing up. "Villain arc time."

"Oh yeah?" Wilbur absent-mindedly murmured. "What're you gonna- AH!"

He yelped, caught off-guard, as Techno just about pounced on him and hauled him off his chair. He crashed into the piglin, sending them tumbling to the ground, each fighting for dominance. Though Techno was quite well-known for his strength and cunningness, Wilbur found it incredibly easy to wriggle his way out from his grasp.

Just as Wilbur had thought he had managed to get away, Techno "accidentally" hiked his shirt up and began squeezing at his ribcage. Wil immediately crumbled to the ground, feebly beating Techno's chest with a clenched fist.

"Ack! T-Tehehechno! Youhu cheheheater!"

"I win!" he triumphantly cried, flipping Wilbur onto back and settling down on his legs. Anytime Wil tried to resist, Techno would simply rub his top rib bones and watch (smugly) as Wilbur fell back down, giggling up a storm.

"Youhuhu cheheated!" Wilbur protested. "Thahat's not fahahair!"

"Hush," shushed Techno. Wilbur did not "hush". In fact, when Technoblade delved his fingers into his underarms, his laughter only grew louder. In mock exasperation, Techno snapped, "Pay attention, Wilbur, I'm showing you my really good idea."

"Thihihis ihis youhur idehea?!"

"It's good, isn't it?"

"Ihihit's ahabsolute shit!"

Techno's eyes widened.

"You take that back!" he demanded, not caring how childish he was being. It seemed like laughter truly was contagious, for Wilbur's loud cackling brought out a few chuckles from himself. Techno was glad that Phil had suggested for Tommy and Tubbo to go outside, because it would be very hard to explain why he, Technoblade, a deadly piglin who earned his title "Blood God", was currently sitting on top of a human and tickling him senseless, all the while wearing a large, goofy smirk.

"My ideas are great and you know it. Just admit it already."

"Fuhuhuck ohoff! Ihihi-" Whatever Wilbur was going to say was cut off by his own raucous laughter when Techno pushed his sweater up and blew a raspberry on his ribs (a trick he learned from Phil, who learned it from Tommy). "FUHUHUCK! WAHAHAIT! WAHAHAIT, TEHEHECHNO PLEASE! STOHOHOP!"

Technoblade did not stop. As a matter of fact, Wilbur's pleas only seemed to spur him on. Through slightly teary eyes, Wil weakly batted at Techno's shoulder as the pinkette blew raspberry after raspberry on his ribs. The hits didn't do much — Techno barely noticed — but it did throw him off a little when Wilbur missed his shoulder and whacked him in the face. Luckily, no one was hurt, but it made Techno flinch, and instead of blowing a raspberry on Wil's ribs, he blew one on his navel.

To which Wilbur screeched.

"NOHOHO! NONONONO! NO! PLEHEHEASE! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHERE! ANYWHERE BUHUT THEHERE!"

Technoblade grinned. He gave Wil's underarms a little break and moved to attack his tummy instead, skittering his fingers around the soft skin, occasionally dipping into his navel to lightly scratch around.

"Oh? Is this a new spot?" asked Techno. "Is your tum-tum ticklish? Is it? Is it so tick-tick-ticklish? Hm?"

"STOHOHOHOP!" Wilbur tried to demand. His squeaky cackles weren't really helping him make a point. He pursed his lips together and attempted to put on a mean, stony face. Techno dipped a thumb into his lil' button and vibrated it around, and his facade immediately crumbled. He squirmed underneath him, frantically trying to get free. "PLEHEHEASE! CAHAHAN'T TAHAKE IHIT!"

The piglin caught the strain in Wilbur's laughter and sympathized with him. He hadn't been tickled before, but Wilbur always tried to keep a strong, impassive reputation, and Technoblade doesn't know what he would do if somebody tickles him and reduced him to a red puddle of giggles.

"Alright, alright," he murmured, decided that Wilbur had had enough. "Just wanted to have my revenge for a little while. It gets annoying when someone keeps rejecting my brilliant ideas, y'know."

He slid off of Wilbur and walked back to his chair, where he had originally been sitting before he had gotten the random idea to tickle Wil. Before he could see what Techno was doing, the piglin quickly jotted down "+belly and navel" on page thirteen of his blackmailing book. He said nothing else — no apologies, no consolation, no explanation. Nothing. Zip. Zero. Nada. Goose eggs.

The moment Wilbur got enough air into his lungs and strength in his limbs, he staggered back onto his feet, face bright red and hair a mess. He ran a hand through his ruffled brown curls — like that would help — and sank into his chair, breathless.

"Ihi still thihink your ideas a-are shihit," he mumbled. He hugged himself around the stomach, ghost tickles still dancing on his sensitive skin. Technoblade glared at him. He had forgotten how annoying Wilbur was while he had been tickling him. He grabbed the first thing he could find — a marker — and pointed it at the brunet.

"I'll tickle you again if you're not careful," he threatened.

"I can take it," Wilbur arrogantly responded, eyeing the marker warily. His bluff was called, however, when Technoblade stood up and he squeaked. "AH! Sorry! Didn't mean it! I-I was just joking!"

Techno grinned. "You wanna admit that my ideas are good now?"

"No."

For a split second, Wilbur's stubbornness irritated the piglin. But then, after studying the marker in his hand, Techno's grin only widened, another equally wonderful idea popping into his head.

"Alright, I've got an idea I bet Tommy'll love," he said.

"And I bet it's shit."

Technoblade didn't say anything, simply grabbing Wilbur's wrists and raising them high above his head, which scared him.

"What're you doing?" he squeaked, voice high-pitched in terror. "D-Don't tickle me again! Please! I'm sorry!"

"Calm down," Techno soothed. "I'm not going to tickle you."

Wilbur relaxed a little. That is until Technoblade began pushing his sweater up, to which he shrieked, "What're you doing?!"

"I'm going to use this marker," was the pinkette's simple response.

"T-To do wha- EEP! Tehehechno! Nohohot ahagain!" whined Wil. "Plehease! Ihihi'm seherious, I cahahan't tahake it!"

"What? Seriously? You can't take a marker? Not even a marker?" teased Technoblade, more surprised than anything else.

"Ihihi'm tihihicklish!" the brunet defensively giggled.

"Well, that's good, because I won't tickle you all that much. Just stay still. I need to write something on your stomach. It'll be easier if you don't struggle."

"Ihihit tihihickles!"

"I know, but just stay still."

Wilbur tried — he really did! — but it was incredibly difficult to not laugh while Technoblade was writing something on his stomach with a black Sharpie. The soft tip of the marker was surprisingly good at tickling him, especially when it came close to the rim of his navel.

"Whahat ahahare yohuu even dohohoing?" giggled Wilbur. He couldn't exactly read whatever Techno was writing. It's hard to read upside down.

"I'm writing "TICKLE HERE" all over your stomach. And don't look at me like that," Technoblade added when the other gaped at him. "I know you're ticklish on your stomach, but I'm willing to bet Tommy doesn't~"

"Youhu wouhuhuldn't!"

"I would, actually," Techno replied. "Plus, I bet Tommy would love it. Admit it, Wilbur, it's a good idea."

Although Wilbur would continue to insist that Techno's ideas were shit, Tommy actually found Techno's birthday gift for him incredibly entertaining and enjoyed it immensely.

("Come on Wilbur, it's very rude to not sing me happy birthday~" "Ihihi'm tryhyhyhying!" "Try harder! Try to stop laughing. It might help." "Youhuhu suhuck!" "I wouldn't say that if I were in your position~" "ACK! WAHAHAIT! IHIHI'M SOHOHORRY!" "Don't forget to try his navel too." "FUHUHUCK YOU BOHOTH!")

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*

I don't know why this prompt took me so long to do but I'm so fucking sorry Jesus Christ ᜊࡇᜊ

Also I'd just like to mention brag that the word count is 3,909 words.

-🌟

[rakeshys]

Things you should be knowing as student

1) If you take control of your Sunday, you take control of your week.

2) When assigned a long-term project, finish some amount of work toward its completion that very same day.

3) Start small and start immediately.

4) If you cannot maintain an organized room you will never truly feel that your life is organized.

5) It is important to keep your room clean. And it will make your mother happy.

6) Apply to the scholarships.

7) You should never begin studying without a systemized plan for what you are going to review, in what format, and how many times.

8) Before you even crack your first book, take ten minutes to actually write down exactly how you plan to study.

9) The planning is as important as the process.

10) If you want to become a standout student, you must befriend a professor.

11) Reading a daily paper provides essential food for your ambitious brain. Make sure you don't go hungry.

12) if you are constantly worried about avoiding anything negative, you will never do anything out of the ordinary.

13) Don't let others dictate how you should feel about yourself; strengthen your identity—then go conquer your world.

14) do yourself a favor and give time-blocking a try. It's a much smarter way to manage your day.

15) Remember, giving up, when done strategically, is not a weakness. It's simply smart life management.

16) The happiest students are also the most involved students. When it comes to crafting your slate of collegiate pursuits, the sooner you get involved, the better.

17) always be working on a"grand project "

18) take art history and astronomy before you graduate.

19) Imagine the following scene: Your professor is handing back a major research paper to your class. The groans that begin to fill the room indicate that the professor was particularly demanding for this assignment. And rightly so, it's worth forty percent of your grade. As he gets to your name, he asks you to stay after class. Uh oh. Nervously you wait as your classmates file out, and when you are the only student remaining in the lecture hall, he walks up to you . . . and then shakes your hand. “Congratulations,” he exclaims, “your project was by far the best in the class!”

Sound good? Well, get used to it.

20) One or two good questions a class is enough to keep the professor happy, but not enough to solicit the annoyance of your classmates.

21) Getting involved with research early is like drinking an elixir of success.

22) If you pay your dues with grace and enthusiasm and are mindful of the opportunity you are receiving, you will maximize the many positive benefits of participating in original research work.

23) Take ten-minute breaks in between each fifty-minute chunk.

24) One, it makes you feel better about yourself. If you look good, you can imagine that cute guy or dimpled girl in the front row shooting some glances in your direction. This will make you happy. And when you are happy, you have more energy and pay attention better in class. Two, it makes the day official. When you look like you just rolled out of bed, it's all too easy to imagine rolling back in. If you dressnicely, you are sending yourself the message that you are ready to get started and attack the day.

25) Decorate your room.

26) experience the joy of dominating a test without any hard work,this is done by studying Two weeks in advance.

27) Force yourself to write as much as possible. It is an essential, irreplaceable skill for succeeding. Master it.

28) taking the time to eat a social meal with your friends is a great idea; just don't do it more than once a day.

29) Schedule an escape for yourself every single week. And do it alone. Treat it like taking medicine.

30) “Why waste your time and money in the minor leagues of college courses when you have the ability to be swinging in the majors.”

31) When it comes time to study, go where it counts.

32)The best way to learn difficult material is to go over it by yourself, with a lot of concentration, again and again and again until the concepts become second nature.

33) As long as you are paying so much money to attend college, you might as well maximize what you get out of your investment. If you can get into an honors program, do so. No excuses.

34) The key is consistency.

35) Getting fired up, once or twice a month about subjects that interest you, will go a long to way to helping you succeed. Go to guest lectures and keep your intellectual fires stoked.

36) Don't let the decision to exercise become a debatable question. Instead, make it a habit, like going to class or brushing your teeth.

37) You never realize how important your back-home friendships are until you begin to lose them. Stay in touch.

38) Sleep is just a tool to help you function. Treat your body like a machine—give it exactly what it needs to perform its best, not any more, not any less. Give the snooze button a rest. Try to sleep only the amount you need to make it through the day.

39) The best state for your mind to be in is confident and calm. Take the hour before an exam to relax.

40) Read a nonacademic book. Listen to music that makes you happy. Run a couple of errands. Have a conversation with a friend. Work on unrelated—nondemanding—schoolwork. The key is to keep your mind active and energized, but not exhausted. Then head over to the exam fifteen minutes early. On the way, start to lightly review some material that you feel particularly good about. Imagine yourself writing a strong essay on this topic, imagine the professor handing the class a copy of your essay as an example of a good answer. This technique is more than just shameless ego-stroking, it builds your confidence, and, more important, it warms up your mind in a good and controlled sort ofway. When you arrive at the test location, avoid the temptation to frantically catalog all the concepts you are a little shaky on. Try to keep your mind blank, or, alternatively, continue thinking confidence-boosting thoughts about doing really well. When the exam is finally handed out, take a deep breath and have at it. You should be mentally nimble, rested, and energized by the time your pen hits the paper.

41) If a friend invites you to do something and you are not too busy, find the energy to go. If a friend invites you to do something, and you are really busy, don't go, but make plans to get together later in the week. Most important, if a good friend needs help, drop everything and go.

Making friends your number one priority doesn't mean sacrificing your other obligations, but it does demand that you keep them in mind.

42) Be mature and make the right decisions to keep your mind and body in a condition to perform your best.

43) The point is that there are too many factors that can account for both good and mediocre academic performance on any given day, and none of these factors has anything to do with intelligence.

So save yourself a lot of unjustified grief (or pride), and simply ignore your classmates' grades. Worry about your performance and progress; let your classmates worry about their own.

44) A good listener at college is rare.

45) Don't decide to start working the day before.

46) Find something every single day that will make you laugh.

47) Using a high-quality notebook will not guarantee you success, but it will create the right environment for it to flourish.

48) if you don't actively seek out fun, it won't actively seek out you.

49) Take the most important projects or commitments with which you are involved, and pump up your criteria for success.

50) corporate recruitment sessions, and yes, even parties. In the chaos of classes, extracurricular activities, and a healthy social schedule, these optional events are easy to avoid. Don't avoid them.

51) If you want to be a successful student, forget about your G.P.A. Ignore it. Don't talk about it. Make no attempt to know the numbers. You should approach your collegiate career with confidence and energy.

52) Always go to class!

53) Set arbitrary deadlines.

54) eat healthy

55) don't just volunteer, volunteer quietly.

56) approach every paper as if you were trying to win a Pulitzer Prize for explanatory reporting.

57) Attend political rallies and keep the flame of progressive thinking alive.

58) Once you have decided on a destination, explore many routes to get you there.

59) Don't take breaks between classes!

60) Don't network. But keep your connections strong.

61) If you can maximize the use of your surroundings, you can maximize your performance as a student.

62) Organize the messages in your e-mail in-box like you would your paper files

63) To be a successful student, you must abandon the start-slow, end-fast mind-set, and instead approach all projects by aiming to start fast, end slow.

64) Spend a semester studying abroad.

65) you want to succeed because you love the excitement of pushing your potential and exploring your world and new experiences, if you want to succeed because life is short and why not fill it with as much activity as possible, then you will win. If you approach life with an attitude of never having regrets and always having a hopeful smile on your face, you can find a measure of success in all your endeavors. Don't have no regrets, but have plenty of fun along the way. In the end, that is what it is to really win.

66) “Don't have no regrets.”

The above points are all from the book I read...

Book: - HOW TO WIN AT COLLEGE: - surprising secrets from the country's top student's

Author: - CAL NEWPORT

Anime forever ✌

[whatamievendoingherern]

TALKING TO EXPLOSION BOY (BNHA)

Cat: Lil floof and if you squint, angst

Agender! Reader was nervous about their internship with Thirteen already, but throw in the sparky porcupine? Anxiety maxed out. But surprisingly, he just isn’t as explosive as usual. (Reader has a fire related quirk)

Y/N remembered when they first decided to try out for cross country.

It was the summer before 8th grade when they vowed to make themself into a person they could like. Their sister had given them a ride to the school, they’d retied their sneakers about fifteen times on the way, and they’d practically had a death grip on that poor plastic water bottle.

They’d been so nervous that they refused to get out of the car. They remembered knowing absolutely nobody on the team, feeling so socially inept because they hadn't talked to anybody all summer. It wasn't until their sister reassured them that they finally found themself unlocking the door.

That's what they thought internships were gonna be like.

But rather than the hellish experience their middle school self endured, it was quite different.

They chose to intern with Thirteen to learn how to use their quirk in rescue scenarios. Thirteen, who they’d recently learned went by xe/xyr pronouns, was a pretty nice person, who took their wall of awkwardness and formality into consideration.

Y/N was finally letting the wall drip down a bit, allowing Thirteen to see their real personality. And the acceptance was nice.

That's why they didn't really mind it when Thirteen said xe needed to drop by Best Jeanist's agency. Something to do with the author and plot lines.

So they followed Thirteen through the building, politely smiling at the passersby they happened to make eye contact with. The two stopped at a door in the building, pushing it open, and just like that feeling of finding someone you know in your home town, Y/N felt like they’d been smacked with frying pan.

Bakugo and Y/N made eye contact from both sides of the room, a silence as his hair sprung back to its normal state.

Oof.

If the rest of the Bakusqud were here, Y/N probably would've been able to sneak in a laugh under Mina, Sero, and Kaminari’s cackling, but alas that was not the case. And despite the self destructive ramblings of Y/N’s rather common mental breakdowns, they valued their life.

Best Jeanist sighed as though this weren't the first time this occurred, flicking his comb into his pocket. "Thirteen." He said in greeting. "What brings you here?"

"I just need to do some touch ups on the paperwork for the collab takedown we did last week. Turns out the villains quirk wasn't energy mutation." Xe replied, while Y/N suddenly begun to wish they had Hagakure's quirk instead as Bakugo’s eyes burned into their skull.

"Is that your intern?"

Uh oh.

"Yep," Thirteen said, pushing Y/N forward much to their dismay. "They’ve got quite the quirk."

Best Jeanist hummed in response, having been there in the stadium. He remembered sending them an invite to intern with him after the festival, but he supposed they were searching for something specific.

"You two are in the same class right?" Best Jeanist asked. Y/N stiffened as he acknowledged Bakugo's presence. Without waiting for a response, he carried on, "You two stay here. Thirteen, the reports in my office."

And despite every cell in their body yelling at the two to stay, the door closed behind the two leaving both Bakugo and Y/N in immediate discomfort.

Silence.

Y/N looked around the room at anything and everything except for Bakugo. They spotted a chair, the only other one in the room placed right across from the blonde porcupine.

With an internal groan, they shuffled over to the chair, sitting uncomfortably still as they pulled out their phone. They stared at the screen, pretending to be doing something while attempting to negotiate a ceasefire with the whatever deity above was listening.

Whatever I did to deserve this, I am so sorry. It'll never happen again, bro, just get me tf outta here rn before my soul skrrt skrrts from my body-

Oh no, now their nose was itchy. The temptation was there, but the risk of drawing attention was even greater. Were they gonna sneeze? Were there tissues in here? Jeez did hearts always beat so loudly? And what is up with the whole breathing thing? It sounds like there's gonna be a whole goddamn tornado-

"Hey. Depressed Flambé."

Y/N hesitantly looked up from their screen, wondering if they placed their funeral plans in an obvious enough location. Top left drawer of their dresser, beneath their will. Dang they forgot to write if they wanted red camellias or white camellias. Surely class 1-A would know they were a red camellias type of lad. And they had to change the song from "Thriller" to "E-Girls Are Ruining My Life", ya know, get with the times-

"I know you're avoiding me. Your damn phone isn't even on." Bakugo's brash voice said, and they suddenly felt like dropping an anvil on their head.

Y/N gave a smile that may as well have said, "I've been caught" and tucked the phone into their pockets where their hands could fidget out of view.

Silence.

Depressed Flambé, Y/N pondered.

They hadn't thought they had a nickname, they figured since they had barely interacted with him all year that they were in the clear.

Guess not.

Their thoughts and the room stayed radio silent for a bit before they hesitantly spoke up, "Trying out a new hair style?"

"Mention it to the rest of 1-A and I’ll kill you!" He barked defensively, huffing when he saw them flinch almost unnoticeably. "He won't let me patrol with him until I 'reform my appearance' or some bullshit like that."

Y/N nodded, though they didn't really see much difference. He was intimidating either way, one just made him look a little more idiotic. "Some bullshit sounds about right." Y/N replied, trying to let themself relax.

Bakugo seemed content with their response, and once again the two fell into silence. And just like a hand reaching out, they felt their voice wanting to come out, to keep talking, but maybe he didn't want to. Maybe it'd be better to take the chance and have no regrets later? But what if he just told them to shut up? They probably would never get over that. It was probably best if they-

"How's your internship?" Bakugo asked, clearly uncomfortable with asking the question. He wasn't even making eye contact which was supposed to be Y/N’s thing.

By the author's grace, was this the power of those behind the divine fourth wall?

"It's good!" Y/N said, a little too quickly for their liking.

Stupid social anxiety.

"Um, Thirteen's trying to teach me how to use my quirk in rescues." They added slowing their words, before their voice lowered into a murmur. "I just kind of wish I knew that they don't really teach fighting techniques."

"Well why don't you teach yourself?" He asked.

Why do you have such good hearing, they thought. "I mean I tried a while ago, but I wouldn’t know where to start."

"Is the phone you were using to avoid me just for show or can you actually use it? Just look some up or walk yourself to a library."

OML THIS IS A HISTORICAL MOMENT HE GOT THROUGH A SENTENCE WITHOUT CURSING OR INSULTING ANYBODY IM SO PROUD OF YOU, BRO, WE NEED TO CELEBRATE THIS MOMENTOUS OCCASION- "I guess that make sense." Y/N replied, sheepish but surprised.

They really thought it would be like that first day at cross country. Like everyone would be looking at them, judging them, ostracizing them. But it was all their head, just as it was then, just as it was now.

There was a gap of (you guessed it) silence, but this time it was less awkward, more...comfortable.

"It's too bad, Best Jeanist, isn't what you thought he would be." Y/N said.

He hummed in response.

"It seems more like he's trying to change you than train you." They thought aloud.

"It's annoying. I wish he'd finish this damn haircut, so I can skip to the fun part, and kick somebody’s ass."

Y/N snorted audibly. "If it's about getting it to stay, I think I can help."

Bakugo raised an eyebrow, which before may have had them thinking they were on his kill list, but now not so much. "You do hair?"

"I mean, I take care of mine almost every morning, and I'm pretty good with gel at this point so why not?" They shrugged.

"Hurry up then, I don't want to have to do this for any longer than I have to."

"Your hair is surprisingly soft."

"Shut up, Flambé!"

"Seriously, what conditioner do you use?"

"I WILL BLOW YOU UP RIGHT NOW!"

•••

"Thanks for stopping by Thirteen, it's been nice." Best Jeanist said, as the two stepped out of his office.

Thirteen replied. "No problem. See you around."

The two turned to the other duo and though neither visibly shown it, the surprise remained present.

"Did you do his hair?" Thirteen asked in mild confusion.

Best Jeanist was past the point of mere confusion, he was borderline baffled. "You fixed it?!"

Y/N tucked away a comb granted by the author, "Magic."

"Are we gonna patrol now or what?" Bakugo asked, a grin tugging at his lips.

Even though it looked borderline evil, Y/N was still pretty proud they made him smile. Even if he looked like he was about commit a homicide.

A/N Feel free to hit me up via anything if you have any requests. Whether it’s headcanons, scenarios, or different pronouns lemme know! I really like writing these and wanna make everybody feel ✨comfy✨💕

[kdjdhdhebx]

I will never understand chronically online liberals. they are like "don't joke about what is going on in ukraine!! It's so insensitive!! people are dying!" while they are talking to a fucking ukrainian with family stuck there. it's like people are more interested in policing a bunch of strangers on the internet rather than doing shit. bruh, trevor noah made jokes about it on his coverage, but that doesn't mean he doesn't do shit. he still donates and calls out racists fucks. people are like "oh it desensitized people" no this is fucking war man. people who care are going to care, people who don't won't. no one in ukraine has the time to come online and get hurt that a political catboy from indonasia made a joke about the putin and biden fucking each other and no one is sitting down at home and being like oh yeah this makes me believe the war ain't real lmao. people make jokes as a criticism, other times to cope, and most times cause they cant do much other than that dude. it's all a fucking joke man!!! the grandson of lenin's cook decided he wanted to declare war because a bunch of western "civilized" nations wouldn't disband an irrelevant alliance and now a shit ton of innocent civilians are dying for what? for arbitrary artificial bullshit concepts like power. and i? you? we are all just sitting here under the safety of our roofs confortable in our expensiveass blankets looking at videos and crying because we can't do shit. we can't fucking do shit. it's all a fucking pathetic cruel damn joke! I am gonna make a joke about it on tumblr, and then on 8th I will go with my mom to a local donation place where we will put a bunch of old clothes in hopes that they keep someone dying around at the borders of ukraine warm while i would be feeling bad for not being able to donate some canned food because we are not the richest so my parents think we can't afford to do that, and then I am going to go to school where I will hold my ukrainian friend whose 28 family members are rn stuck in some dirty camps at the border of romania, before going to my history class where we will study about how hitler blatantly declared that he attacked poland because the german speaking population there was being discriminated against while the british and the french did nothing other than literally dropping leaflets on berlin and having their army mobilize 2 kms in despute their gaurentee for polish sovreignity of 1939 and wonder about it's parallel with the current situation. then I'll come home, see a bunch of shit online about it, stumble at the commission requests from ukranian artists and hit my head cause I dont make money and can't give them shit, get confused at the point of the cat federation banning russian cats and laugh at it's ridiculousness, think about a bunch of media monopolies making profit over these tragedies... and then I will get back to doing a stupid math assignment and cry about my mentally ill brain. while people would be dying... and a shit bunch of kids online would be directing their energy at making me delete a stupid joke that no one cares about and fighting in the comment section for hours. it's all a fucking joke.