#i did try one when i was in high school but i have no idea which one it was anymore

[pjsk-headcanons]

How did (some) characters find out they're gay

Ichika: in middle school, she listened to Magnet. Really. She was like "wait i can do that?" Then looked at Saki (since this is middle school) and her brain exploded.

Saki: she kind of. Always grew up talking about marrying girls and thought it was normal also until middle school when one day she just started thinking about it and went "oh. Yeah that makes sense" and kept going with her life, probably the first in leo/need to figure it out.

Honami: it was in high school because Saki kept flirting and the rest of leo/need just looked too damn gorgeous and she went through a whole crisis before reaching acceptance in like 30 minutes.

Minori: Haruka. Thats all.

Haruka: in middle school, Haruka wanted to figure out if she's gay so An had an idea, they could kiss, so Haruka would think of her feelings and realize them. So they kissed, Haruka thought it was nice but didn't have much more feelings about it so she thought she was straight. Years later she met Minori and oh, she was a fool.

Shizuku: she was too busy trying to make Shiho come out that she never really thought about herself, she knows it in some way but she never thought about it and never will, it'll take her like 2 years dating Airi for Airi to call them both lesbians and Shizuku stops like "wait I am? Wait wanting to kiss you is not normal??" (I know Shizuku is smart but come on she's an airhead + this is for funnies)

Kohane: An smiled at her the first time and I think her brain exploded in purple, blue and pink (bi) glitter. "Dads im bi" "SHE'S NOT STRAIGHT IM SO HAPPY" (i stole someone's headcanon with her having two dads sorry)

An: she spent half of her childhood saying she'd marry Nagi, and her street usually had a pride parade every june, so she just. Kind of always grew up knowing she liked girls? The shock was her finding out she's bi in high school.

Akito: a few weeks after meeting Toya he's just sitting on his room thinking about how cute the boy is and how his hand is so soft and how- oh shit Ena would make so much fun of him if she knew (she knew before he did).

Tsukasa: the boy has yet to figure it out, despite Saki trying to say he's gay every day. Give him a few more years. Or a Rui kiss. Both works.

Nene: somewhere in high school she looked at Emu, looked at Ichika, thought back on her little mermaid obsession with the actress and went ".. oh. oh"

Rui: probably kind of always knew, but he did have a time where he got confused bc he dated Mizuki for some time in middle school but then Mizuki came out as trans so he was like "... What if i only like girls and just had a really good radar?" Nah. He's just bi/pan

Mafuyu: once as a kid she mentioned she wanted to marry her elementary school best friend and Mafumom started talking about dishonor and that she cant and blablabla so she just locked that up. When Mizuki and Ena said something about liking girls and Mafuyu looked around at the feelings the three girls give her she just. remembered everything, both the feelings for that friend and her mom's talk. She started having a panic attack then because one girl was bad but THREE??

Mizuki: always knew she liked girls so it took the transition to call herself gay. However Rui did make her realize she also likes boys.

-anon anon

.

[blackbat05]

Biggest Supporter

Jason Todd x Library Assistant! Reader

Plot: Your week has been difficult and the emotions start to pile up on you. Luckily, Jason has the perfect plan for a Friday evening self-care.

Genre: PG-13, Comfort

A/N: Wrote this one shot when I should have been sleeping🤡 The week has not been the easiest and you know my style… writing to release the steam. I hope you still enjoy and that it brings some sort of comfort if you’re struggling as well. Reblogs appreciated!

This week was really not it.

You were almost reaching the end of the week, where you could taste the sweetness of a Friday when shit had to hit the fan.

First, the kids weren’t listening to you as you tried to conduct story time. You tried to be assertive and authoritative as possible but frustrating was only the one word out of many that you had at the end of the day.

The next day wasn’t any better as you had to sit through a meeting that left a bitter taste on your tongue. You felt eyes on you as you walked around the campus but tried to keep your head up high.

Then, it happened.

You had to stop an actual physical fight in the library.

Unsuccessfully should be the prerogative word.

Teachers came out of the staff room like bees attracted to honey- or screaming in this case and you had never felt more embarrassed. Still, you had a job to do. Reporting and crowd control.

The aftermath wasn’t pretty. You kept trying to tell yourself that the suggestions were out of goodwill. But it didn’t help when you kept replaying it in your head and they sounded uglier by the second. As if it was directed at you and your incompetence.

It took a lot to squash down your anxiety and insecurity to back where it rightfully belonged. But you were valid to be upset at the injustice you were facing. You wished you had quicker comebacks at the remarks instead of a weak defense that only made you sound like you were just making excuses.

No. You had to be strong, you had to believe that you were doing the right thing all this while. The air felt thick again and you were glad when school ended and you could leave earlier on a Friday.

As you head down the stairs, you see a familiar motorbike parked next to the security guard post and a mop of black hair with a tinge of white.

“Jason!” You waved happily as you reached the bottom.

“Hey princess.” He opens his arms for a hug which you gladly accept. “Looks like I got here in time.”

“You have no idea.” You groan into his chest, earning a chuckle from him.

Waving goodbye to Sam, the friendly guard, the two of you prepare to set off on his bike and straight into the weekend.

The ride was everything you needed. The gust of fresh air was a much welcome reprieve. Suddenly, the emotions from the week start to swell in your chest and you fight the urge to cry by leaning further into Jason’s back.

“Let it out!” Jason yells to make himself heard over the howling wind as you zoom across the expressway. “You’ll feel better!”

So you do. You let your tears run even if it means you’ll probably look like a puffy eyed demon when you reach your destination.

It wasn’t easy, coming to this point of your job. You knew how hard you had to fight for everything that you had achieved so far. You made sure to not make the same mistakes and all was going well.

That is why you absolutely hated the fact that this week had rattled you very badly that it dredged up old wounds.

Blinking away your tears, the bike slows down and you find yourself in front of a Korean Restaurant that you’ve always wanted to visit.

“You’re too good to me.” You thanked Jason, still riding high on all the emotions. But you didn’t care about putting them on display because Jason was the only one who knew and understood what you were feeling.

“I did nothing.” Jason is modest and guides you inside the restaurant, ready for a sumptuous and hearty meal of spicy stew.

As you wait for the pot to boil, Jason looks at you through the rising steam as you recount to him your week. He doesn’t interrupt, making the right reactions at the appropriate times.

“You did everything you could. Don’t be too hard on yourself.” Jason says as you finish. “I wasn’t there but you sounded really badass.” He tries to lift the mood, earning a small smile from you even though you don’t say anything.

Jason frowns. “What did your boss say?”

“She said that it was beyond my control and I did everything that I could.” You sigh. “But maybe they’re right. I have to be stricter than these incidents will stop happening.”

“Then, it’s settled.” Jason is firm. “You’re not at fault. Did you do what Macy did the last time?” He asks, referring to your recent librarian and supervisor who left the job to go to Spain with her family.

“Yeah. I didn’t want to change it too drastically.” You respond and Jason nods as if all this was logical.

“Exactly. You did what she’s supposed to do. You’re continuing what she is doing. And if anyone has any smart-ass opinions, tell them to take it up to management themselves instead of directing their anger at the wrong place.” Jason becomes more heated by the second and you can’t help but to be a little amused by this. You’re grateful for a loyal best friend like him.

“I’m serious! If this happened previously before you came, then it’s not on you.” Jason insists. “And! Where was the help when you needed it! Do more fights have to happen before you get reinforcements?” He rattles off, taking a big gulp of water from the cup.

“Thanks Jaybird.” You take his bowl and pour some stew in. “I knew I could count on you to be on my side.”

“Always. Besides, you couldn’t do any wrong.”

You laughed, taking a sip of the comforting stew that instantly made your worries go away for that moment.

“But I’m serious.”

“About what?” You ask.

“That you’re doing a great job.” Jason states. “Not because I’m trying to humor you,” he clarifies. “I think you’ve went out of your way to try to fill that empty gap as much as possible for these kids. Considering what you went through back then, you could have just taken a back seat.”

As Jason’s encouragement spills out from the bottom of his heart, you realized that was all you needed. That despite shitty moments, someone told you that you did your best, and that was all that mattered.

“So don’t think about it too much alright? At least not tonight. Because we are going to have the best meal of our lives!” Jason declares, ordering a soju bomb. You protest at that but he waves the concerns away, mischievously waving a black credit card which you could only assume belonged to one person.

“Only for my best girl.” He grins, offering to clink glasses with you. “To being your biggest supporter and shitting on shit people!” He raises his voice, earning some stares from other patrons, causing you to giggle.

“Cheers! To trusting myself and not listening to shit people!”

Jason roars with delight at your loose lipped declaration and pours you another drink, continuing the carefree evening with good food, good laughter and the best company.

Yeah, you were going to be okay.

[zxxccx]

Don't Take Too Long

This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18+. Contains male fart fetish, piss, and scat content.

Senior year was almost over. We were all looking forward to being done with high school and the end was in sight. We just had a few more random assignments left, finals, and then graduation. I was sitting in class one day and went to get my homework out of my backpack. After looking for a bit, I realized I didn't have it and must have left it in my locker. So, I got up and asked the teacher for the hall pass so that I could get it. As I was walking out of the classroom, one of my classmates named Josh called out to me. Josh was your typical gym bro and had a big ass. I turned to see what he wanted and he said, “Don't take too long, I have to take a massive dump.” I looked at him with a mix of confusion and disgust. After a few seconds, his friend Joe who was sitting behind him said, “What are you wanting for? You heard him, hurry up!” And with that I left and tried put that weird interaction out of my mind. Why did jocks think that poop and fart jokes are so funny?

My high school was actually a small campus with multiple buildings on it. Of course, given how life works, my locker was in a completely different building than the one my class was in. So, it took me a while to get to my locker, get my homework, and walk back. And let's be honest, I was a senior in high school so it's not like I was exactly in a rush to get back to class. When I did get back to the classroom, I was surprised to see Josh standing outside, almost like he was waiting for me. “I thought I told you not to take too long. You think it's funny for me to me have to sit there and hold it in while I wait for you to get back with the hall pass? You're lucky the teacher’s chill and let me out anyway.” I didn't think I had done anything wrong, but wanting to avoid conflict I apologized anyway. Apparently that wasn't good enough for Josh though because he told me sorry wasn't going to cut it and that he thought I needed to be taught a lesson. He told me to follow him and then grabbed my arm and started leading me down the hallway. I tried to say something but he told me to shut up and said that if I tried to make a scene I'd regret it. He was significantly stronger than me so I figured it was in my best interest to listen.

Finally, Josh pulled me into the bathroom. I was very confused at this point but, before I could ask what was going on, Josh shoved to the ground and forced me to lie on my back on the grimey bathroom floor. I went to sit up and tell him off, but he held me down, spun around, and sat his ass on my face. This made me try to protest even harder (even though my protests were heavily muffled by his ass), but Josh reacted by simply ripping a nasty fart on my face. It smelled absolutely disgusting and made me gag. All of the sudden, I heard the bathroom door open. I started freaking out because I didn't want anyone to see me like this, but it turned out to just be Joe. Based on his reaction, him and Josh both found my current position to be hilarious. “Damn, can't believe we're actually gonna fucking do this to him. It's gonna be so nasty!”, Joe said.

I had no idea what he was talking about, but I wasn't kept in the dark for long. While still sitting on my face, Josh explained their plan: “I was pretty pissed when you took your fucking time coming back with the hall pass after I told you I needed to shit. So, Joe and I got to talking and we decided you needed to learn the error of your ways.” Josh paused for a second, pulled down the back of his shorts and boxers, and slammed his bare ass down on my face. I was caught completely off guard by this and unwittingly took a breath in through my nose. His ass smelled awful. He continued, “Now I'm sure you're already having a rough time down there, but I don't think you realize how much it sucks to be you right now. Ya see, I haven't taken my dump yet and you're in a pretty unfortunate spot. I was originally just planning to shit on your face and leave you to deal with that, but then Joe said it would be even better if I shat in your mouth and made you eat it. I thought that was the most disgusting thing I'd ever heard, but I decided it was too good of an opportunity to pass up on. If we're doing this to teach you a lesson, might as well make sure it sticks. But in all seriousness, there are two reasons we're gonna do this to you. First, it'll be fucking hilarious and will probably scar you for life, and second…because we can.”

I was horrified. There's no way I would let this happen. I started squirming as much as I could to try to get away. They both found this hilarious. I was no match for Josh's body weight though and only succeeded in tiring myself out and making myself sniff Josh's rank ass more. I decided I had to try to scream for help. Unfortunately, that idea ended up working against me. Not only was I not able to get any meaningful noise out from under Josh's ass, but the minute I opened my mouth, he spread his cheeks and firmly pressed has asshole down over my mouth. This resulted in my mouth being locked open by his body weight with my lips sealed around his hole. I felt like my skull was going to crack from the pressure. “Bad move buddy”, Josh said with a laugh. He punctuated that thought with a massive fart that echoed in my mouth. I gagged and started to struggle again. “If you thought that was bad, you're really not going to like what's coming”, he added, ”Hope you're hungry, because I'm about to burst!” Him and Joe started laughing again. He ripped a few more farts into my mouth and I felt like my taste buds were going to burn off. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I began to accept my fate.

Then, it happened, I felt Josh's asshole start to expand. “Here it comes”, he said while grunting. He continued to push and a large turd started to slide into my mouth. Nothing could have prepared me for the taste when it first touched my tongue. It was absolutely rancid - very bitter and slimy with earthy notes as well. I thought I was going to be sick, but Josh kept pushing and next thing I know I felt the log start to slide down my throat. “Look you can see his throat bulging. This is awesome!”, Joe said. He sounded thrilled. As the turd slid further down my throat, Josh and Joey continued to talk and crack jokes at my expense. Meanwhile, I was being completely defiled and the two of them could care less. Finally, after another minute of pushing, the end of the turd came out of Josh's ass. Most of it was already down my throat, but part of it was still in my mouth.

Josh told me to swallow it, because there was more to come. I didn't know if I'd be able to bring myself to do that but then, as if he was reading my mind, Joe told me that if I puked they'd make me eat that too. Seeing no other options, I forced myself to swallow the turd. Josh and Joe were elated by this. Josh continued to take his dump as if I were just a toilet. Apparently he wasn't joking when he said he had to take a massive dump. Over the course of what felt like ten minutes, he forced two more sizable turds down my throat followed by one smaller one. My stomach felt really full with all his shit. Then, to add insult to injury, he told me he wouldn't get up until I licked his asshole clean which resulted in my tongue getting up close and personal with his shit once again. When I finally thought it was over, Josh had one more surprise in store. He told me he was feeling generous and wanted to help wash the taste out of my mouth. He then pulled out his dick, aimed it at my mouth, and told me I better open up if I didn't want to go around smelling like piss the rest of the day. His piss was acrid and unpleasant, but nowhere near as bad as his shit.

Josh finally got up and I just laid there. I couldn't bring myself to move. I was relieved that this ordeal was finally over. That relief was short lived though when I looked up and saw Joe holding his phone with the camera pointing at me. He had filmed the whole thing! They both found it funny how horrified I was. After capturing my reaction Joe put his phone away. I went to sit up and beg him to delete the video, but he pushed me back down. “Who said you're done?”, he asked. “Lunch didn't agree with me today and Josh shouldn't be the only one who gets to have fun. Hope you saved room for dessert!” I started freaking out again, but he was easily able to hold me in place and I eventually ended up with him sitting his bare ass down on my face. I wasn't about to let them put me through that again, so I refused to open my mouth. A swift hit to my nuts took care of that though, and once again I found myself in a familiar position filled with dread.

Like Joe said, whatever he had for lunch was not sitting well with him. This resulted in his dump being a lot less solid than Josh’s. He began with some wet farts before I was presented with a mouthful of mush. The texture alone made me gag and the taste made me wish I didn't have taste buds. After making me swallow that, I was presented with two more mouthfuls that were pretty similar to the first. Joe's “grand finale” really took the cake though and made me regret thinking things couldn't get any worse. His final push filled my mouth to the brim with liquid diarrhea. It almost overflowed, but the seal between his asshole and my mouth was too tight. Realizing what just happened, Joe burst out laughing and then told me not to swallow under threat of Josh standing full weight on my balls. As much as I wanted to get the disgusting liquid out of my mouth, I did as I was told. Joe, then ordered me to swish his shit around like it was mouthwash and really take in the flavor. I didn't want to, but Josh starting to put pressure on my balls with his foot helped persuade me. I hated every second of it until they finally let me swallow. Joe also made me lick his asshole clean, but didn't give me the “courtesy” of rinsing out my mouth with piss like Josh did.

After he stood up, before pulling up his pants, Joe said they should see how good I did at cleaning his asshole. He picked up the homework I had dropped and wiped his ass with it. When he was done, it had a large streak of shit on it. “Whelp, guess someone's getting a zero. Hopefully you'll do a better job next time”, he said. He crumpled up the homework and threw it in the trash. As I got up, I shuddered at the idea of there being a next time. I wanted to run into the nearest stall and puke or at the very least rinse my mouth out with water from the sink, but the two of them where insistent that it was important for me to savor the flavor and fully digest their loads. They made me walk back to class with them and I was surprised that the teacher didn't question the fact that we all came back together or were gone for so long. When asked about my homework, I didn't want to give Josh and Joe an excuse to torture me more, so I just said I couldn't find it.

Fortunately, the two of them actually left me alone for the rest of the school year and never forced me to go through that again. I guess they had their fun and were done with me. They still did manage to get one more blow in though. One night, I got a text from an unknown number telling me that I had been gifted a video from a pay-per-view porn site. I initially thought it was spam, but curiosity got the better of me and I clicked the link. I was completely shocked to see it was the video of Josh using me as a toilet. His face was blurred and his and Joe's voices were altered, but it was still clear exactly what was happening. It was awful seeing myself in that position and having to relive the moment. But the biggest surprise came at the end of the video. When Josh finally got up, my face wasn't blurred and when I begged Joe to stop filming my voice wasn't altered. I felt a pit in my stomach and started to cry. I couldn't believe that this was out there. I looked at the profile that uploaded it and saw they had a second video available for purchase. Based on the thumbnail, I could tell it was my shitty experience with Joe.

All of the sudden, my phone rang. It was the unknown number. Nervously, I picked up. It was Joe. He asked me if I liked the video. I begged him to take both videos down, but he said not a chance. He also told me that if I ever told anyone about what him and Josh did to me, he would make sure everyone I knew saw the videos. He ended the call by telling me that he hopes I never forget the experience and that if I ever wanted to taste his shit again, all I have to do is call. I cried myself to sleep that night. I was glad when graduation came, because it meant that I didn't have to see Josh and Joe every day anymore since I went to a different college than them. But when I was home during breaks, if I ran into either of them while I was out, they would give me knowing grins and brag about how much money they made from the videos they posted. That combined with recurring nightmares in which I was back in that bathroom with them meant that the experience was a constant presence in the back of my mind. I would always remember what had happened and I would never forget the vile taste.

[my-thoughts-and-junk]

thinking about superheroes unfortunately

[thereadingchallengechallenge]

if someone wanted to try Robin Hobb's books, how should they go about doing that?

[ruler-of-the-universe-boy]

Me when im planning something big but it has this guy

[oranberrie]

Ah the autistic experience of randomly remembering a situation from your childhood and realizing things

[cobwebinthecorner]

the button is right there guys

i called you over because it's literally impossible to do this on my own

for fuck's sake, someone press it

[montanabohemian]

so yesterday i had someone comment on a post i made on IG telling me how "offended" they were because i'd simply ended my post with the phrase "end the occupation and free palestine." so much of what they said was actually insane racist islamophobic bullshit and they managed to end their comment by calling all muslims terrorists and literally parroted the "they want to kill americans" fucking horseshit.

the person that made this comment was by someone i've literally known since grade school. i'm not close friends with them but i've gotten to know them over the years and never once thought they'd say anything like this. i actually thought it was a bot account for like a full minute.

i'm sadly not surprised at the rhetoric because that's where we are. we're right back to twenty years ago during the post 9/11 / war in iraq / war on terror fervor kicked off. i'm just. i had to fight this shit twenty years ago and here we are all over again, except this time with the added benefit of fucking social media.

if simply saying "free palestine" is so inflammatory for you, then that is your fucking problem to work through.

[munamania]

i. HATE!!!!!!!! that i feel like i can’t have boundaries with this lady without reinforcing the belief that i’m not good enough to be working on this. as if she’s not the one being rude and pushy and intrusive. i don’t think she has much sway or that it will affect me much in the future but it sucks anyway

[coffeebanana]

Every time I read classic books I feel this pressure to enjoy them, and I just...never do? I can appreciate why they're important or influential for their time, and I appreciate that they exist, but...I just don't enjoy the style? Like they tend to be very repetitive and they have a lot of scenes that frankly...don't do anything to move the story forwards. The kinds of things that today would get the story tossed aside by publishers. And obviously I'm not saying it is bad writing, because again--different time period. Different style. But I wish I could be completely comfortable saying I just don't enjoy those books. For me personally, reading them is often more effort than what I get out of them. And sometimes I will read them anyways because I want to understand references people make to them in other books or media, but at the end of the day they don't bring me joy like modern books or fanfiction do and I think that's okay.

[ko-eko-ev-go-ms]

I really really wish dreams were easier to understand/interpret

[foldingfittedsheets]

I always forget this wasn’t a thing everywhere but my high school had a fun and innovative way to torment us in PE. They got heart rate monitors. It was this awful strap that went under the bra line and paired to a watch. The first day was great cause we got to set our resting heart rate. We did this by laying in a dark room and napping.

But then once a week we’d have to strap on these monitors and go running. The monitors were old tech and didn’t always pick up your heartbeat, so you’d have to use cold water between it and your skin to get a better connection, gods know why. Warm water never worked. After the day our watches would be collected and our efforts recorded.

The idea was that if your heart beat too fast you were supposed to stop, and if it was too slow you’d speed up. In practice this was ridiculous, staying in the green zone all class was ridiculously difficult.

Even people like me who were stubbornly resistant to running the mile couldn’t stand the horrific constant beeping and made attempts to placate the reviled machine. It was always fairly miserable. I had PE first thing in the chilly morning, dashing cold water on my skin before running around half awake was the low point of my week.

But for some unknown reason, the teacher insisted that no play could happen on these days. We were given the freedom to run all over campus but woe betide us if we tried to make a game that actually made this enjoyable.

We’d initiate games of tag only to get yelled at for not just… running. Any kind of play was forbidden. On one memorable occasion someone got a kickball and we started an impromptu soccer game with it.

If someone’s heart rate got too high they’d drop to their knees to wait out the shrieking of their watch so an extra element was added to the game of trying to win without going too hard. I remember being absolutely delighted, the thrill of that game still lives in my heart, hoping I could score a goal before my heartbeat betrayed me to the hated watch.

When the PE teacher found us we were soundly scolded and the ball was confiscated. Our happiness burst like a soap bubble and we turned our back to the enchantment of the green field and resumed slogging along in a grey haze as expected.

[jewishvitya]

A pro-Palestine Jew on tiktok asked those of us who were raised pro-Israel, what got us to change our minds on Palestine. I made a video to answer (with my voice, not my face), and a few people watched it and found some value in it. I'm putting this here too. I communicate through text better than voice.

So I feel repetitive for saying this at this point, but I grew up in the West Bank settlements. I wrote this post to give an example of the extent to which Palestinians are dehumanized there.

Where I live now, I meet Palestinians in day to day life. Israeli Arab citizens living their lives. In the West Bank, it was nothing like that. Over there, I only saw them through the electric fence, and the hostility between us and Palestinians was tangible.

When you're a child being brought into the situation, you don't experience the context, you don't experience the history, you don't know why they're hostile to you. You just feel "these people hate me, they don't want me to exist." And that bubble was my reality. So when I was taught in school that everything we did was in self defense, that our military is special and uniquely ethical because it's the only defensive military in the world - that made sense to me. It slotted neatly into the reality I knew.

One of the first things to burst the bubble for me was when I spoke to an old Israeli man and he was talking about his trauma from battle. I don't remember what he said, but it hit me wrong. It conflicted with the history as I understood it. So I was a bit desperate to make it make sense again, and I said, "But everything we did was in self defense, right?"

He kinda looked at me, couldn't understand at all why I was upset, and he went, "We destroyed whole villages. Of course we did. It was war, that's what you do."

And that casual "of course" stuck with me. I had to look into it more.

I couldn't look at more accurate history, and not at accounts by Palestinians, I was too primed against these sources to trust them. The community I grew up in had an anti-intellectual element to it where scholars weren't trusted about things like this.

So what really solidified this for me, was seeing Palestinian culture.

Because part of the story that Israel tells us to justify everything, is that Palestinians are not a distinct group of people, they're just Arabs. They belong to the nations around us. They insist on being here because they want to deny us a homeland. The Palestinian identity exists to hurt us. This, because the idea of displacing them and taking over their lands doesn't sound like stealing, if this was never theirs and they're only pretending because they want to deprive us.

But then foods, dances, clothing, embroidery, the Palestinian dialect. These things are history. They don't pop into existence just because you hate Jews and they're trying to move here. How gorgeous is the Palestinian thobe? How stunning is tatreez in general? And when I saw specific patterns belonging to different regions of Palestine?

All of these painted for me a rich shared life of a group of people, and countered the narrative that the Palestininian identity was fabricated to hurt us. It taught me that, whatever we call them, whatever they call themselves, they have a history in this land, they have a right to it, they have a connection to it that we can't override with our own.

I started having conversations with leftist friends. Confronting the fact that the borders of the occupied territories are arbitrary and every Israeli city was taken from them. In one of those conversations, I was encouraged to rethink how I imagine peace.

This also goes back to schooling. Because they drilled into us, we're the ones who want peace, they're the ones who keep fighting, they're just so dedicated to death and killing and they won't leave us alone.

In high school, we had a stadium event with a speaker who was telling us about a person who defected from Hamas, converted to Christianity and became a Shin Bet agent. Pretty sure you can read this in the book "Son of Hamas." A lot of my friends read the book, I didn't read it, I only know what I was told in that lecture. I guess they couldn't risk us missing out on the indoctrination if we chose not to read it.

One of the things they told us was how he thought, we've been fighting with them for so long, Israelis must have a culture around the glorification of violence. And he looked for that in music. He looked for songs about war. And for a while he just couldn't find any, but when he did, he translated it more fully, and he found out the song was about an end to wars. And this, according to the story as I was told it, was one of the things that convinced him. If you know know the current trending Israeli "war anthem," you know this flimsy reasoning doesn't work.

Back then, my friend encouraged me to think more critically about how we as Israelis envision peace, as the absence of resistance. And how self-centered it is. They can be suffering under our occupation, but as long as it doesn't reach us, that's called peace. So of course we want it and they don't.

Unless we're willing to work to change the situation entirely, our calls for peace are just "please stop fighting back against the harm we cause you."

In this video, Shlomo Yitzchak shares how he changed his mind. His story is much more interesting than mine, and he's much more eloquent telling it. He mentions how he was taught to fear Palestinians. An automatic thought, "If I go with you, you'll kill me." I was taught this too. I was taught that, if I'm in a taxi, I should be looking at the driver's name. And if that name is Arab, I should watch the road and the route he's taking, to be prepared in case he wants to take me somewhere to kill me. Just a random person trying to work. For years it stayed a habit, I'd automatically look at the driver's name. Even after knowing that I want to align myself with liberation, justice, and equality. It was a process of unlearning.

On October, not long after the current escalation of violence, I had to take a taxi again. A Jewish driver stopped and told me he'll take me, "so an Arab doesn't get you." Israeli Jews are so comfortable saying things like this to each other. My neighbors discussed a Palestinian employee, with one saying "We should tell him not to come anymore, that we want to hire a Jew." The second answered, "No, he'll say it's discrimination," like it would be so ridiculous of him. And the first just shrugged, "So we don't have to tell him why." They didn't go through with it, but they were so casual about this conversation.

In the Torah, we're told to treat those who are foreign to us well, because we know what it's like to be the foreigner. Fighting back against oppression is the natural human thing to do. We know it because we lived it. And as soon as I looked at things from this angle, it wasn't really a choice of what to support.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 5:48

Bakugou’s in his third year of high school when he finally invites you over to his house. The reason? To finish a calculus project.

You’d think that after surviving through the hardships of being a hero-in-training together for three years, saving each other’s lives (more often you were the one being saved than doing the saving, really), and whatnot, he would’ve invited you sooner to his home (one could dream).

But this was Bakugou, after all.

And he knew that something was off the moment he left you to share a conversation with his mom while he went to get his books from his room—the greatest mistake he could have ever done because by the time he’s making his way back, Bakugou could hear you snickering to yourself.

Not a good sign.

“I’m not going to lie; you looked hideous when you were a baby,” you say, reading through Bakugou’s baby album.

Bakugou froze. He had absolutely no idea why his mother would cave in and give you the godforsaken album from when he was young, but of course she would’ve agreed with your request to see it if you did so much as mention it.

He dropped the books he’d grabbed from on top of his desk on top of the living room table before whipping his attention towards you, an indignant scoff escaping through his nose before he took a few slow, but heavy stomps over to you—practically snatching the album from your grasp when he’s within reach.

“Stop looking through those stupid pictures.”

“Hey! I wasn’t finished,” you reply with a frown. “You’re lucky my phone’s battery just died, or else I would’ve taken a billion photos.”

Bakugou’s jaw clenched slightly as he grumbled curses under his breath, trying to flip through the album in his hands to make sure you hadn’t managed to sneak a photo out—a small sigh of relief rolling off of his tongue to find that, luckily, it was still how his parents had done it.

He shot a glare over towards you, stuffing the album back into its original spot on one of the bookshelves, his nose crinkling as he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Don’t care; tell anyone what you saw, and you’ll drop dead,” he tells you.

“Oh, but how could I not? That photo album’s like hitting the jackpot—so many super ultra rare photocards of you,” you gushed, blatantly disregarding his usual threat. “Come on, I wanna see the rest!”

“Absolutely not.” 

Bakugou knew the damn photos were in the back of the album. There were probably a handful of the ones where he was in the bathtub, butt-naked—a common photo in most photo albums he’s seen, at least. Other photos include when he was three years old and wore an All Might onesie for his birthday, pictures of him during his school recital where he was the prince, him with a bald haircut, and so much more blackmail material. 

It was humiliating, for goodness sake! And he knew you’d just tease him mercilessly if you saw it.

You’ll never let him live it down, so it’s best to deprive you of it.

“Don’t come at me for saying this, but I was the cutest baby in our village back then,” you told him proudly. “Had the roundest cheeks and brightest smile, trust.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes, a huff of air forcing itself past his lips. That was one thing about you that he couldn’t stand; you were so full of yourself most of the time—you’d always been like that, and he absolutely loathed it. It could be that it reminds him of himself, so the competitive meter on his head just flares whenever he’s around you.

“I doubt you were even 1% of how adorable I was as a baby.”

“Have you seen me?” you gestured to your face with your hands to emphasize your facial features. 

“I’m still as cute even now. And no offense, Bakugou,” you giggled, “you looked like a wrinkly raisin on your first few days on this Earth.”

Bakugou’s smirk dropped. He’d almost forgotten that you had seen the stupid pictures already.

“Shut the hell up. It wasn’t that bad.” He muttered quietly, his hands balling into frustrated fists. His parents always assured him that he was a cute kid when he was small—but to hear that YOU of all people, are in disagreement with that is just aggravating.

“Fine, fine. Quits it is,” you hum. “Let’s do that calculus project so I can get home before sunset.”

Bakugou grumbled something inaudible under his breath, reluctantly nodding his head in agreement. There was no point in arguing about something so idiotic—after all, both of you were there to get a project done, not to sit around and bicker about his past.

He took a few steps over to the living room table before plopping down on the polished floor ungracefully, yanking out his notes before he gestured his hand over towards the free space next to him.

“Sit down. Let’s just get this thing done and over with already.”

Bakugou had already started working silently by the time you sat down; his hand was writing almost furiously as he copied equations onto his paper. He kept his attention focused on his notes, trying to stay quiet as he focused completely on completing the project.

He eventually stopped writing for a moment, turning his gaze over to glance at what you were doing before clicking his tongue at the sight. Bakugou could already see a few mistakes you’d made with your work.

“You’re doing it wrong,” he says.

“Wait, I’ve barely turned on the calculator, jeez.” You shook your head, solving the equation through your calculator.

“And that’s how I know you’re doing it wrong.” Bakugou huffed, shaking his own head in disappointment. 

“Formula first before adding 1.3.”

He pulled out a pen and began scribbling down on his own paper, glancing at yours every once in a while to compare the work. He knew from his experience that you were decent at math (he’d rather die than tell you that), but this was just pitiful even by your standards.

“Have you been dozing off during Ectoplasm’s class?”

“Ouch. Do you have a personal grudge against keeping the not-so-nice stuff from leaving your mouth?” you sigh. “You’re hurting my feelings— I’m devastated.”

He had a feeling you’d say something like that, and he was prepared to ignore your attempts at gaining sympathy from him.

“Unfortunately, you’ll fucking live,” Bakugou says, scribbling down the last of his work before turning it towards you. “And learn how to solve equations too, while you’re at it.”

“I know how to do it; calm down.” You huff, rewriting your solutions.

Bakugou raised a skeptical eyebrow, his head tilting with a hint of disbelief. Even if he knew you were capable of doing math, you had a bad habit of missing even the smallest details, like the operation to be used in your work, leading to the wrong answers.

His eyes scanned over the work you’d written on your paper before letting out a small huff. “Looks right. Are you done with your half?”

“Yep, yep. Are you going to write it down on our answer sheet, or should I do it?” you offered.

Bakugou glanced down at the answer sheet set to the side before picking it up and nodding. He was already holding a pen while you were still using a pencil, so it would make more sense for him to be the one to write it all down.

He began copying down the answers slowly and carefully, each number being written out with ease as his eyes flicked back and forth from the worksheet to the sheet of answers.

With him busy jotting down the answers, you occupied yourself with taking in the interior of his living room. It was beautiful, neat, and just screamed rich—not really what you expected (you really didn’t know what to expect, honestly). “Y’know,” you mention, glancing around. “You have a nice house.”

Bakugou hummed in acknowledgment, his eyes remaining focused on his task. It kind of took him by surprise to hear you say something out of the blue—about his house, no less. He’d fully expected you to talk about something else, like school or that new show you’ve been begging him to watch.

It went against what Bakugou had originally thought, which led him to look over at you from the corner of his eye, silently raising an eyebrow in a silent question.

“Yeah, I guess it’s a nice house,” he said casually, his pen continuing to move over the paper. His penmanship was neat, and Bakugou hears you in awe. 

Bakugou continued to finish writing down the last of the answers, his eyes narrowing slightly as he noticed you looking around his house. It was obvious what was happening, but he decided to ignore it in favor of just getting the godforsaken project done.

He finished soon enough, his pen rolling back with a click before he leaned back a little and let out a small huff. “We’re done. Finally.”

“Nice, nice.” Glancing at your watch, you concluded, “I should get home.”

Bakugou was silent, rolling his shoulders and neck before glancing out of the nearby window. The sun had already begun to set over the sky, the day quickly slipping away into the night.

“Yeah, whatever. You need me to walk you home or something?” He asks gruffly.

“Nah, I’m good. I need to say goodbye to your parents, too.”

Bakugou watched as you packed up all of your belongings, a scoff rolling off of his tongue. It felt almost weird to be civil with each other, neither of you having taken jabs or making snarky remarks to taunt one another. 

“Alright, fine,” he finally said, standing up from his seat and stuffing his hands into his pockets. “Let’s go find my parents then.”

He led you down the hall and into the kitchen area, his ears vaguely picking up the sounds of his mother and father talking amongst themselves about… something. He couldn’t tell what exactly, and frankly, he barely even cared.

“Mom, Dad.” He spoke up, capturing the attention of his parents. 

Mitsuki looked over at him, a smile spreading across her face. Masaru looked in the same direction, a warm smile forming on his face as well.

“Thank you for having me, Mr. and Mrs. Bakugou,” you said in gratitude. “I’ll be going home now before it gets too late.”

His parents shared a hum in acknowledgment, with his mother being the one to speak up first. She had a knowing grin on her face as she clasped her hands together, her eyes flickering over to her son.

“You’re welcome. You should come over more often,” Mitsuki said enthusiastically, her voice taking on a slightly smug tone.

Masaru laughed as he nodded in agreement. He gave a knowing look to his wife before he looked back over at you. “You should join us for dinner; we already made enough for you to join us.”

“I’d love to, sir, but my folks are waiting for me at home,” you answered sheepishly.

Bakugou noticed the glance his parents exchanged and immediately knew what they were thinking. He almost grumbled in frustration, already knowing that they’d ask him about you later after you left.

His mother spoke up once again, her smug grin growing wider. “You’re always welcome here,” she repeated, her eyes flickering over to her son as her voice came out teasing. “After all, Katsuki’s always in a ‘better’ mood when you’re around.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it, ma'am. I’m a joy to be around, after all,” you lightly joked, though you still maintained a respectful tone.

His parents were easier to get along with than you thought.

Bakugou’s eye twitched in annoyance at your words, almost making him want to quip back at your cocky behavior. However, it was the sound of his mother’s sudden laughter that stopped him from doing so.

Mitsuki mother put her hand up to her mouth briefly, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she continued to chuckle. The expression on her face was elated, and it was pissing him off even more, knowing what’s to come. 

“I like this one,” she said, grinning from ear to ear.

Masaru added, “And clearly, so does Ka—“

“All right! They need to get going to catch the shitty train.”

By the time Bakugou accompanied you to the door, he had this obvious scowl on his face. “You’re never comin’ back here again, dipshit.”

“Wha— no fair! Why am I getting banned from the Bakugou residence when this is my first time here?” you replied.

“Shut up,” he grunts. “I could do whatever the hell I want because it’s my house, too.”

“Too bad I have your Mom’s number—“

“Delete that.”

“Hey— wai— no way!”

It was not the last time you were ever invited to the Bakugou residence.

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[itgetzweird08]

“Damn- already Bakugo? The movie isn’t even over!”

Denki whined, grabbing the remote to pause the comedy that was playing on the tv. It was movie night in the dorms, a way for the class to bond and decompress after classes. Everyone was huddled together, wrapped in blankets and sharing snacks. All accept Bakugo, who scowled at his yellow haired friend.

“It’s my bed time. I’ll see you nerds in the morning.” Denki huffed, crossing his arms as he muttered about Bakugo’s old man behavior. But Kirishima smiled, giving him a short wave and a “sleep well Baku-bro!”. The rest of the class also sent their goodnight wishes as Bakugo headed to his room.

It was only 8:30, which was a bit early even for Bakugo. He usually headed to bed around 9, but tonight was special.

When he got to his room, he locked his door and walked to his mirror, making sure his hair was to his liking and that there was no popcorn in his teeth. When he caught himself fretting over his appearance, he rolled his eyes and scoffed, wiping his sweaty palms on his jogging pants. ‘The fuck am I worried for? It’s just a Skype call’. And while he was right, it was just a call, it was a call with /you/.

You and Bakugo had been dating long distance for the past year and a half.

You met at the I-island convention, where you two got into a friendly competition at one of the challenges. After you managed to beat him at his own game, he recruited Mina to find you on social media. Anyone who could beat him was special..and it didn’t hurt that you were gorgeous to boot. However, his heart sank when he found out that you didn’t live in Japan. Still, he decided to follow and dm you anyways..which you promptly answered. The two of you have been talking non stop ever since.

What was just messaging turned into calling, then FaceTiming, to full on movie nights where you would count down to try and start the movie at the same time. And while it was inconvenient, it was fun. He wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Which is why he was always promptly on time for your calls. You had both been busy that week, so you weren’t able to talk as much as you normally did, which is why you scheduled the call. With the time difference, you would be slowly waking up to get ready for school while he was going to bed. He was able to tell you about his day, while he watched you get ready for yours.

The time difference was a hard challenge to navigate, but you made it work. Talking to eachother was the high light of both of your days. You loved seeing his face and hearing his voice, even if it was virtual and he loved the same. You were both very meticulous in nature as well, making sure that your times were aligned to get the most out of your talks as possible. That way, it always felt like enough.

And while it would be nice to hold him, to see his face in person, to kiss him..this was enough for now.

Bakugo hopped into his bed, plugging up his phone before pressing call and waiting for you to answer. And when you did, he was met with sleepy eyes and a warm smile. He could’ve sworn his heart was doing actual backflips.

“Hi Kats..”

“Morning dumbass”

You smiled at him, your heart fluttering at his teasing. And just by seeing your smile he knew, that until he could get to you, this would be enough for him.

——————

Ps: im starting to do requests! So if you have an idea for me, go ahead and put it in my asks <3