#it's better they ignore me than be discriminatory though so

[floweringpopcat]

coming to the conclusion that people in my speech class are either transphobic or wary of the speech i chose and i'm leaning towards the former

[ticklepinions]

Everyone should read the following. If we are a community you need to understand a few things.

Are you entitled to say anything you want due to "free speech"? Hell yeah!

Should you? Absolutely the fuck not!

The blatant racism, anti-queerness, transphobia, misogyny and fatphobia I have seen is down right abhorrent. And if you display any of these ideologies or opinions, you simply do not belong here. You shouldn't be comfortable making a safe space for yourself as you make this lovely community unsafe for the rest of us.

There is nothing political about human rights. But unfortunately that's where we are in this life. I'll try not to be biased but certain political leanings tells me all I need to know about you. POC conservatives will always make me laugh. You are nothing but a pawn for the cis/hetero/whites who don't give a shit if you live or die. Nothing but a slur, a body to dispose of. You may share their views but they are not sharing the power and privilege they have with you.

Let's talk about certain individuals who act so tough under the "big strong amurican sharing their views just to get shitted on, fucking snowflakes". Why do you want to be oppressed so badly? Why do you purposely antagonize people and then when they defend themselves you try dismissing them by saying how they're wasting their time... The irony of it all. The sheer ignorance.

I feel sorry for you people. Truly, I do. But I'll be damned if I let any of you try to tear any of us down for having opinions and ideologies (hint hint see the irony?) that fight for the rights of people who don't have them.

And let me get something clear- from the river to the sea. We all should not stop fighting till all of us are free. There are so many resources out there to educate yourself, yet you choose to remain ignorant. You do not belong here. You act as though you are better than everyone else because you have "edgy" opinions, opinions that literally call for the deaths of the marginalized and oppressed. You do not belong here. You have the gall to tell people they are wasting their time, when their sheer existence alone is putting them at risk for isolation and death (by the same bigoted people you support). You do not belong here.

If an elephant (Israel) has it's foot on a mouse's (Palestine) tail, tell me which one is truly the one at risk. There is a gen0cide going on. If Israel is trying to reclaim it's "land" why bomb it? Why destroy it? With a military with their degree they should be able to eliminate all these "terr0rists" with minimal to no "collateral damage" (aka the 30,000 innocent Palestinians, 2/3rds of which were woman and children, with countless injured, orphaned, homeless and starving). Why bomb hospitals, mosques, sacred places? Standing with Palestinian people is not antisemitism, it's anti gen0cide and war crimes (a multitude of which Israel has shamelessly committed).

And I'm not on anon. I stand for the people of Palestine. I stand for justice. I stand for equity. I stand for the freedom of all oppressed people.

And I implore everyone who follows me to educate themselves. The right path does not lead you to discriminate against the marginalized. Continue to fight my friends, continue to amplify the voices of those unheard, continue making this community and those you belong to, safe for all and unsafe for those who think otherwise.

For you @knismosexual + @littleonelee

I hope you truly reflect on how your actions impacts this entire community and the communities you live in. Until you learn how to act right, unfortunately this community isn't for you. You shouldn't feel welcome here. You shouldn't feel like you belong here. DMs are wide open if you have any thoughts. But again I say, supporting transphobic, racist, anti-queer, misogynistic, discriminatory views is not simply an "opinion" or personality to adopt. You are hurting real people, accepting the deaths and harassment that plague them every single day. You have no place in this community.

[doberbutts]

Hello, I’m mixed and I know you’re mixed too so I’m hoping for some advice. My mom is white and my dad is Native American (technically he is indigenous to canada the tribe he is from but I just say Native American because it is easier to explain, ‘native Canadian’ sounds weird 😭) and I’m sure you know things r really bad for indigenous people in Canada even more so than in America so when my dad was young his parents managed to save enough money to move to America many years ago, anyway I guess none of that is important besides the fact that I’m mixed.

Basically, I am involved in a fandom with many mixed-race characters that I love. None that are specifically mixed like I am (well besides one character whose mom is native and dad is white, though his mom was never revealed it’s a popular fan theory so I’ll just go with it) and other notable mixed characters are Arab/white, Chinese/white, etc. Writing this out I kind of realize that all of these mixed characters are mostly half white lol. But, that is also kind of the problem.

I’ve noticed a real… I don’t want to say racist but really discriminatory and hurtful attitude towards these mixed characters that really hurts my feelings as a mixed person myself. Basically people ignoring their mixed heritage and opting to just refer to them as ‘Arab’ and ‘Chinese’ and whatnot. Which is fine on the surface, but then I see people start talking about how disgusting it is that these characters have a white parent and that it would be much better if they were ‘pure’ POC. Which is really… hurtful as someone who is mixed with a white parent. Sorry I’m not ‘pure’ enough for your liking?? I guess? What is the point of them even saying things like that? And I guess I want to know how I can bring it up to these people without them getting angry at me. I got really mad one time and said that trying to erase a mixed characters other parent is trying to erase their identity and you can’t just choose to accept half of someone you have to accept ALL of them or you accept no part of them but they just block me.

I don’t know I feel like they’re trying to be well meaning even if it’s in a really hurtful way, but then when I try to correct them they don’t even care so can I really call it well meaning? They outright ignore the fact that the characters are canonically mixed and choose to just present them as ‘pure POC’ which they act like it’s somehow ‘superior’ to being mixed. I already don’t fit in anywhere I go and I feel like neither side will ever accept me and now I feel like this pervasive fandom attitude just kind of confirms all my fears. Sometimes I wish I was fully one or the other. I liked your other posts about being mixed and how you weren’t ‘half’ of anything you were fully all of them and I’m trying to internalize that but all these people and their hurtful comments make it hard. Like they’re not making these comments about me specifically, but I see what they say about fictional characters that are like me so it’s :/

I guess I just want to know how to convince them that mixed people are worthy of telling stories about too and how we aren’t lesser just because we are mixed? How do I tell these people to get over their discomfort with acknowledging the heritage of mixed characters? I’m not very good at articulating these sorts of things.

And sorry this was so long 😢

This is a bit of an older ask, and I've left it sit in my askbox for a while because I'm honestly not sure if I even have any advice for you.

The biggest things I suppose would be

A: remember that fandoms really aren't known for acknowledging the nuance of, like, literally anything that can be polarized. Unfortunately, that includes race and racial mixing.

B: sometimes you have to be the change you want to see. And I know. I know it sucks when you always have to be that person. But sometimes that is truly the only solution. Exist happily as yourself, be content in your own mixed race identity, talk about it when you feel up to it, and those who see it will be touched by you. Perhaps they may even catch on, and start to spread a healthier way of looking at the mixed race characters within your fandom.

C: stop giving a shit what other people think. Be you. You will find people who love you for you. Fuck all the others who reject you for being yourself, and don't force yourself into an easily digestible box for those who would barely glance your way regardless.

[apomaro-mellow]

Got inspired by this

Steve regretted laughing. Which is something he never thought he'd feel. But as he cackled at something Robin said, he saw the look on Dustin's face and wished he could take the laugh back. Robin went to go and show a customer something and Dustin slid over to him.

"Remind me again how she isn't 'the one'?"

"She's a one. One of a kind. The kind I don't wanna lose by asking her out."

"Whatever happened to the Harrington charm?", Dustin asked.

"Doesn't work on girls like Robin." Steve ignored him by trying to escape to the backroom. Of course Dustin followed, employees only be damned.

"I don't even think you've tried. Which confuses me. But what's got me even more confused is how you've seemed to stop trying altogether."

"Why are you so invested in my love life, huh?"

"Ew, gross", Dustin winced. "I'm not invested. I'm just tired of hearing you whine about never finding love-"

"I don't whine!"

"SO just ask her out already. Even if she says no, you can still be friends. Like Jonathan and Nancy."

Steve rolled his eyes. Then saw a lightbulb go off in Dustin's head.

"Well since Nancy's single again-"

"I'm gay!"

For the first time ever Dustin shut his trap. Steve thought he should get a trophy for this. Except he realized what he just said. Dustin, with all the grace of someone who had just been blindsided, hugged Steve tight.

"I'm...I'm here for you, man."

It was so sweet that it made Steve feel like shit. But only a little. Because now Dustin couldn't keep trying to matchmake him and Robin. Or Nancy.

Turns out the love boat only stopped for a couple days.

Steve was hanging out in his room when he heard footsteps approach. Dustin came in without a single knock.

"Um, hello? How did you get in?"

"Some lady let me in."

Steve raised a brow. "You mean my mom?"

Dustin shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Anyway, what about Gary?"

"....Who? For what?"

"Gary? He works at the art supply store. He's gay, why not him?"

Steve shot up and shut his door like a zombie was coming. "What the fuck are you talking about Henderson?!", he hissed quietly.

"Gay people deserve love too, Steve. So how about it?"

Steve rubbed his face. Forget about how Dustin knew about some random dude's sexuality, apparently he wasn't one to be deterred.

"You can't just set me up with any guy. Or any gay guy."

"You've slept around with just any girl? Why are guys different? Seems pretty discriminatory Steve."

He wanted to strangle this kid. More than that though, he wanted to go back and slap his past self. He could have said anything. Said he was into old ladies-no, then Dustin would be sending him on blind dates to the senior center.

It felt like the only thing to get Dustin off his case would be if he was in a serious relationship with someone.

Then a second person came into his room without knocking and Steve wondered if he should be walking around naked more.

It was Jonathan.

And Steve got another bright idea.

"I can't just go out with anyone. Because I'm already dating Jonathan."

"What?!", two voices shouted out and Dustin gave Jon a look.

"Why do you sound surprised?"

Jonathan looked to Steve for help and Steve tried to convey the best he could with his eyes.

"I...we never....put a label on it....?"

Steve could kiss him if he was at all interested in men. To sell it a little better, he put an arm around his shoulders. Dustin was left speechless for the second time in a week and Steve was definitely putting it in his journal for posterity.

This time he gave them both pats on the back and walked out silently.

"Don't tell anyone!", Steve shouted behind him, then closed his bedroom door.

"Hey, um, the hell?", Jonathan asked.

"Thank you for being so cool with that."

"I'm learning to be more chill. But still, explain?"

Steve told him the whole story as they sat on his bed and through it all, Jonathan looked nothing but understanding.

"So, how long do we need to pretend to be boyfriends?"

"Who says we need to pretend?", Steve raised a brow.

"You just told Dustin."

"It's a secret we're keeping", Steve said, getting up to pace about his room. "Which means we just act normal. Later we can tell Dustin we broke up."

"How much later?"

Steve pondered. "....Once I'm engaged?"

"Steve!"

"Jonathan, please?"

He looked conflicted. This just seemed like a lot of stupid work just to convince Dustin. "You get 2 months? Got it? Put it on your calendar."

"Thank you! I'll do it right now!" Steve grabbed a pen and went over to the calendar that hung on the wall. He went to February 3rd and put a broken heart on the date.

"Subtle."

"No one else looks at this thing. Alright. If our break up is bad enough maybe Dustin will stop butting his head in."

"What if the others find out?", Jonathan asked.

"No one else is gonna know."

----------------------------------

Lucas had been noticing that Dustin had that weird grin on his face for the past week. The 'I know something you don't know' grin. While sitting in Steve's living room, shoulder to shoulder with Max, who he nudged.

"You notice anything off with Dustin?"

"You mean more than the usual offness? Yes, actually."

"What do you think it is?", Lucas asked.

Will came to sit on Lucas' other side. "My guess is he has a secret. But what, I don't know."

"So it's pretty obvious, right?", Lucas said.

"No, I said as much to Mike and he said I was being crazy and that Dustin wouldn't keep anymore secrets after Dart."

Their eyes went over to Dustin, who was grinning at the group who was deciding on the movie they were gonna watch. Steve and Eddie were in a heated conversation while Jonathan was trying to be a mediator.

Steve was flapping around a vhs so hard it threatened to sail across the room and Jonathan grabbed his wrist to still it, scared for the innocent movie.

"Get a room, you lovebirds", Dustin called out.

All eyes turned towards him.

Part 2

[almalvo]

I been angry, but I am just pissed as sh1t rn let me be petty like?? So ima talk. After all this time, after seeing all I have seen, hearing all that I have heard, received all that I have received - Ima talk. Nuff silence; block me all you want but - Ima talk.

The "Star Trek" fandom is literally full of bullsh1t.

For a source material that speaks most largely on exploring strange NEW worlds, to SEEK out NEW life and NEW civilisations, to boldly go where no one has gone before... (though nothing is really new...) ... yall are just so nuzzled up and comfy over here in this hive echo-chamber you call a "fandom" because you can so easily and comfortably pervert the principle of differences and diversities in Star Trek so that you can surf the dunes of your own politicised, discriminatory, prejudiced, distorted delusional sandbox of what "freedom of speech" and "freedom of identity" and "liberty itself" (whatever tf THAT means lol) and what fake twitter/tumblr-sjw and chronically online "woke culture" look, sound, and feel like, gone most greatly uncontested because as soon as one person says or people say something, then they risk outting themselves for the same sh1t they pull in this "community", which would ultimately lead them to lose this sickening "freedom" that they cultivated for decades to say and be the sh1ttiest in a homogenised sh1tty social environment where they won't ever be conspicuous or scorned; to blend right in (worsening over time).

I been silently lurking around in this pop-culture space, observing for the better part of a year, and it's ALL I need to see more than enough - and what I seen is precisely why I stay the fvck a w a y from most all of you and do not involve myself with most activities or events (if any) being done - and if I do, I do so with utter self-awareness and caution. I been seeing what so many of yall doing and been doing. Whether you out here drawing strictly pink red-blooded Spock's; bleaching Uhura; being anti-SNW Uhura; accusing Spock to be anything near an anti-sem1tic symbol; forcing pressurised and uncomfortable messages to many artists over the years in their DMs completely unsolicited and unasked for without consent to make them draw Kirk the way you see yourself for your own restrictive agenda while completely disregarding the everything the artists say to you; talking about race theory when you don't even know what a hypothesis is; being a spokesperson for the population of people you have absolutely z e r o agency over; talking about or participating presumptuously or dismissively in subjects regarding identity that you have no idea about and don't investigate; using your identity as some kind of ticket of immutable correctness when you in fact still have to actually be correct; blindly believing and bandwagoning any ideas and social/emotional/political subjects without even at least questioning what it is that you are nodding your head to; refusing to do your part and put in the actual time and effort to do your own research into things that you dont actually truly understand; not admitting to your own ignorances; not having conversations with yourself and others in efforts to think learn and grow; not having the capacity to identify fault in yourself or actively recognising erroneous commentary elsewhere; being an utter bystander and doing nothing in the face of total ideological evil; being hypocritically super "identity-phobic" by using your own identity as some kind of justification and validating mouthpiece to push others beneath you to feed your insecure ego; being an unapologetic hypocrite at all; unchallenging the problematic nature of the environment around you or in even the people you know or talk to and encounter whether irl or online; committing to silence and performative activism for things that you should/need to care about; being lazy with caring; perverting social spaces in favour of your own unconditional freedom to harbour and flourish with your criminally bad takes and mentalities and ideologies where others around you will only be of the species to agree with you; thinking of Star Trek as just "oh next episode of entertainment oo ahh shiny shiny funny funny sad sad oo woke haha" instead of understanding that these things raised in the show are based in reality and are things to actually think about and reflect on regarding others AND YOURSELF and are not just solely thought-pieces for entertainment value; detaching the relevance of what you should've understood and learned from "woke" media to the real world/vicinity around you offline or online as two NOT-mutually-exclusive things...

... how so many of you art people drawing even caucasian people with skin that aint just white but like white white like an office drywall - like where all the blood at? god you must really hate colour that much dont you damn; how none of yall ever out here complaining about how restricted and problematic it is on multiple levels that only japanese people are constantly the MAIN group from all of asia that show up at all in Star Trek fr - and liking TOS/AOS Uhura only actually because of how close/how she compares and contrasts to WHITE beauty standards and not cuz yall really think they are beautiful for who they as bipoc/black women are without that prejudiced caucasian perspective (and I BET you so many of yall dont even KNOW you're doing it cuz you are so subconsciously conditioned to think and upkeep and pursue eurocentrism by society...) (wont say more for now...) I see you.

I never expected much of anything from a community of something I newly entered in not so long ago, because I know the world is not great and I seen too many fandoms to be pretty trashy (with very very VERY few exceptions - like a good percentage of BTS Army lol and I aint even really into kpop) But I think it hurts most when it is for something that I value so much, so deeply - That this fandom is a sham. That it is often the very antithesis of what birthed it. That it is just a guise for fools to use to live in problematic peace.

Such a critical portion of yall at this point for who knows how long these last 57 years are really just appropriating characters like Spock cuz IDIC is fvcked.

"Trekkie" is nigh equivalent to a moniker of insult by the rabid sickness of thought I see being pedaled everywhere by so many, many of you.

And that sheer lack of shame.

Not all, but I never said all. Of course there are exceptions. But don't let this ^ make you feel comfortable.

Because it's undeniable that so many of yall just dont care.

Just dont care. Complacy's a fvckn disease.

Like why the fvck am I here? How could I endure and strenuously press-on in such an insufferable place?

Because I ain't here for you. I am here for what brought me here and any who uphold thus to be true and just.

I love Star Trek.

But I hate to be thought of as a Trekkie.

Not while it stays the label it has become and will remain for long. Egregious. I grieve for the contributions and dedication and original vision that the greats like Mr. Nimoy and others had graced this pioneering of human creation with that have been so marred and abused.

I grieve for Star Trek.

I grieve.

To any and all who read through this entire thing and feel the fire of anger as I do against all that is so terribly misled and lost - do.

To any and all who read through this all the way and felt embarrassment, humiliation, shame - feel it. Admit it. Learn from it.

And grow the fvck up.

[redactedasmrmcloven]

I have always interpreted Sweetheart as being a Black Nonbinary Muslim who occasionally veils/wears a hijab. With so many different Empowered cultures within the Redactedverse, I personally see Stealth culture having elements related to certain Islamic values. It also makes sense why Sweetheart is taken advantage of and discriminated against in their job. Being a Black Muslim in an organization that represents Empowered FBI/CIA cannot be easy. Look at the historical ways in which the two organizations have purposefully infiltrated Black communities and Muslim identified communities. But in Sweethearts mind they are making a change from inside the organization ( which idk about that but it makes sense for them). For me what makes Milo and Sweethearts relationship so strong is that Milo has shown an effort to better understand Sweetheart’s culture. He had a lot of unlearning to do and some misconceptions he had to clear up. So many of the stereotypes around Sweetheart and their people would mirror real world AntiBlackness and Islamophobia. Like Stealths are thieves and liars who can’t be trusted. All of this again coming from the fear of the unknown which Stealths sit at the intersection of the unknown because of their unique abilities. So with that all being said here are a few of my more personal HCs for Milo and Sweetheart.

When Milo and Sweetheart first got together he didn’t know a thing about Stealths other than he was taught to be weary of them. Which it didn’t help for Sweetheart to break into Milo’s apartment!

Sweetheart noticed that Milo didn’t immediately blame them being a Stealth as being the reason for them in his apartment at the start of their relationship.

Sweetheart use to wear the hijab full time but once they entered into the DUMP Academy and became an investigator they took it off while on missions or even entering into their office.

They got tired of instructors, superiors, supervisors telling them that “once they are an agent they arent going to be able to wear that thing ( their hijab) in the field”.

Sweetheart now wears their hijab after work, on their days off or at home. That was until Milo told them they shouldn’t have to give up on their beliefs to appease bigoted people

Milo has bought an Islam for dummies book and shared it with his pack before introducing Sweetheart to them.

Asher was the first person Milo gave the book to after he finished it himself. To Milo’s surprise Asher really did a deep dive into Stealth culture not wanting to alienate Milo’s potential mate.

When Sweetheart first met Asher he greeted them with the traditional greetings (As-salamu alaykum or peace be upon you) which completely caught Sweetheart off guard.

The Shaw Pack has never been intentionally discriminatory and has been known for being a very inclusive pack. But even with that being a fact it’s always a few bad apples in the bunch. You best believe that David does not tolerate any ignorance directed towards Sweetheart or their culture.

Marie absolutely loves Sweetheart. She believes that they are such a good influence on Milo. Marie’s secret fear is that Milo would take on some of his fathers worst traits. And with Sweetheart being present in Milo’s life she sees the opposite.

In another post I mentioned Sweetheart’s family lives far off so they don’t see them often. They often have bouts of loneliness because they miss celebrating Eid with their family and praying together with them (Muslims are meant to pray in congregation. We can pray alone but we place a lot of value on praying together in community)

Even though Milo is agnostic he has learned how to pray with Sweetheart and will join them during their prayers or will just sit in space with them. Milo find it very peaceful and loves to just watch Sweetheart be at peace.

Sweetheart has taught Milo how to help them with their hair and how to tie hijabs and turbans on for Sweetheart. ( sometimes you really need someone to help tuck a piece back in)

After they bought their new home together Milo gifted Sweetheart with a surprise visit from their family. Milo loves how less guarded Sweetheart is around their family. But he was not prepared to have a house full of Stealths who all love to scare each other. (Which if someone wants to borrow this as a fic idea please do. And tag me so I can read it!)

Just like young shifter cubs have to play fight to learn how to get control of their shifter forms, young stealths play hide and seek to manage their abilities

Sweetheart was able to support the pack in learning how to shift with their clothes. Shifting and phasing require similar magical skills.

Whenever it’s someone’s birthday in the pack Sweetheart matches their hijab to that persons favorite color. And they have a scarf for every color.

The pack thought Milo had a lot of Clothes but that was nothing compared to Sweethearts wardrobe.

Feel free to use any of these to inspire a fic or your own HCs. I love this little fandom and how creative folks are!

[thosearentcrimes]

At work today I discussed with my colleagues the current government's decision to reduce the amount by which pensions will appreciate. They would ordinarily track inflation, but this time they will exceptionally be increased by a lot less than inflation, coincidentally they will increase by about the rate that wages increased at. This is in addition to the other major retirement reform, which is that the retirement age is being pushed up for young people. The claim is that the pension system isn't really solvent, so while everyone under 35 is being fucked out of their retirement, old people are being stiffed on inflation adjustment. The 35-65 year olds who voted the present government in are going to be fine, of course.

My colleagues noted that we'd been fucked out of inflation adjustment on our wages (I'd guess all in all we've taken a 10% real terms pay cut, but note that food prices are inflating faster than most) and that it was finally time for someone else to feel the pain as well. My colleagues do not understand that the government actively intervened in the economy to keep wage inflation down well below price inflation. What they do understand is that somebody has to suffer, and by god they don't want to suffer alone. It reminded me of when we were discussing wage levels in general, when they said anyone who wants to retire at some point, let alone buy housing or something, definitely needs to have a much better job than we do, and saw nothing horrible about it. They thought of that as just the way things are as well.

And it reminded me also of the people talking about how the injustice of racism is the fact that the bad things that disproportionally happen to certain minorities are happening in the first place. As summed up by triviallytrue, "police brutality is not bad because it's racist, racism is bad because it contributes to police brutality (among other things)". And this is definitely the most important reason, certainly, but I think you people are ignoring the reasons people don't see this.

Like, I understand that this is an absurd proposition (though even so there are people who believe it), but imagine that the amount of police brutality is fixed, that the maintenance of social order (which is necessary to avoid the bellum omnium contra omnes) requires a specific minimum amount of exemplary brutality, and that minimum is being diligently enacted without any more. Is it then unjust in itself if the vast majority of this police brutality is concentrated on a racial minority (scapegoat/punching bag)? I say it is, and fairly obviously so. Discriminatory distribution of a good or a bad is unjust in itself, even taken aside from the moral status of the production of that good or bad.

The thing is, there are quite a lot of people out there (like my colleagues) who believe that the amount of economic misery is fixed. There's nothing you can *really* do to address poverty (except perhaps "making everyone poor like the communists") and there's no real hope to fix the economy, so the only thing left is to litigate the distribution of misery. This is a horrible and incorrect thing to believe but it is self-consistent.

For a more specific example, look at unemployment. Under present economic systems a significant baseline rate of unemployment is an economic necessity, with the optimal rate "the market" will converge to depending on exact circumstances, and the maintenance of worker discipline (which is part of why baseline unemployment is valuable) requires unemployment be unpleasant or at least highly stigmatized. Under these conditions, if there is a de facto rule of "last hired, first fired" specifically targeting a particular minority, well, that's an injustice, and to people who think the present economic system is necessary, it is quite possibly going to be the most pressing one they see.

Now, the important thing to note of course is that other people have seen these same things and concluded we need radical changes to the economic system to eliminate the source of the injustices themselves and not merely redirect them, and they were correct to do so. The Black Panthers and MLK both ended up at this conclusion starting from the problem of racism in the US, and I wish more people would take their example instead of blindly following the market propaganda where it leads.

But if you believe, as most Americans tragically do, that the brutal and exploitative society is nonetheless the best possible one, but also believe that racism is bad, you have no choice intellectually but to attack the distribution. And I think it's important to understand what the error people are making is. They're not really making a moral error, the way people have been suggesting they are, neither pessimism nor vulnerability to propaganda are evil. They are failing to recognize economic injustice for the same reasons everyone else fails to recognize economic injustice, it's just that because they care about other kinds of injustice this is perceived as a betrayal by a lot of people on the left. In reality there is no more reason to feel betrayed by someone being really into Black Cops and Women CEOs than there is to feel betrayed by any other sucker.

[unheavenlybody]

hi i ended up writing an entire essay while trying to vent so feel free to ignore: 

its frustrating that there's no way to talk candidly about mental health problems without the looming fear of forced institutionalization, at least in my case. people trying to force medication on you. wellness obsessed fitness people recommend you start doing yoga and “clean eating” and only using certified nontoxic products and adopting a more positive mindset and ~recognizing your inner magic~ or whatever even though no one asked (literally a dig at my sister LMAO). so much of it just seems self righteous and self congratulatory and devoid of any genuine compassion or understanding for people’s unique circumstances??? recognizing that a lot of life is just hard and miserable and sometimes its ok to just sit with that??

i hate the idea of some dude with a degree from whatever ivy at my school’s counseling department keeping a record of everything i say which can potentially be used against me even tho its supposed to be confidential. treating me like a fragile baby bird but also slicing our meetings in half and arriving late and leaving me to fend for myself after asking me to dig up buried trauma and then offering no support for the next two weeks other than “i understand, that must be hard.” recommending we look into a psychotherapist during our next meeting, which i cant even afford, and then not following through. repeatedly tiptoeing around the question of whether i have suicidal thoughts and if so how severe, like, my guy, i 100% wouldnt tell you that in a million years. even if it’s true.  

i'm caught between recognizing that a healthy diet and exercise and enriching hobbies and social connection are necessary parts of getting better, but people seem to conveniently forget that these aren’t equally accessible options for everyone. and even if i maintain all of these things, will it be enough to keep me here? i just don't understand the impulse to shame people for not trying “hard enough” when it’s so easy to neglect these things if you don’t have money, adequate resources, or emotional support. not everyone was born to be entirely self sufficient (is anyone really, lol?) but grindset wellness fuckers will have you convinced you’re just an undisciplined weak-willed piece of trash and simply need to become more like them. or at the very least get medicated and stop complaining. but can you prioritize a healthy organic diet if you barely have enough money to scrape by as it is, when understandably cheap fast foods are one of the only things that still bring you comfort that you can regularly afford? how can you safely exercise in a way that's both sustainable and enjoyable if you can't afford a gym membership or exercise equipment and live somewhere that neglects public parks or is highly polluted and congested? or if you have chronic pain or fatigue and can’t get treatment for it because your dumbass country doesnt think universal healthcare is a human right? you can’t even maintain certain hobbies and especially long term relationships unless you have money for outings and some means of reliable transportation (which in the US obviously means having a car). how can you get out of an abusive or hazardous living situation when the resources that do exist are often underfunded, discriminatory, or exploitative themselves? when you have no one else to depend on? everything is increasingly designed to strip you of any opportunity at having a happy fulfilling life and maybe some people are just less equipped to deal with this reality. maybe i am weak lol. or they see through the bullshit and can’t bring themselves to care anymore. 

like yeah i know that’s not a great mindset to have, and you should still try to find joy in life, but most days i can't help but feel that I am trying to get better by exercising or eating healthy or allowing myself to love things all for nothing. like maybe ive already been robbed of a healthy, happy life by circumstance and i could try to exhaust myself further by insisting things can and will get better when maybe realistically they won't in the way i want them to. i dont know how to end this i just wish it was easier to talk about with someone lol sorry for the essay byeeee

[ask-bradwolfeanything]

INTRO POST

Names Brad Wolfe, Future A-List actor of Zaniac fame! Nowadays I don't got much time on my hands (making movies and all) but I might as well spend whatever few minutes I got to spend time being interviewed by the adoring public! I mean the fans are everything to me and what better way to repay their support than just by answering their questions and some good interaction!

Besides that, I'm just happy to be here, and hope you give my old self the time of day to respond to you all!

Just glad to be outta that shitty place after everything.

RULES AND GUIDELINES FOR THIS BLOG!

Now I've never actually done an ask blog before, so be weary! This is my first time but I've always wanted to try and I thought it'd be dope to do one about a character I adore! As well I felt inspired to by other ask blogs and how they operate, hope I'm not repeating myself lol.

As well I'm okay with interacting with other Loki ask blogs!

Course no lewd or NSFW questions please! As though yea he's an adult, I (who runs this account) am not!

Please no discriminatory stuff or anything like that. It will be ignored.

Also as well include this, I might make a somewhat storyline for this blog as I had been working on one for him that took place after Loki season 2. So it could be a bit fun! And yes, this does blog take place after Loki season 2.

Note: this of course DOES have his Loki series characterization and perhaps a couple of personal headcanons from me, so as well I say again be weary!

I haven't seen the behind the scenes of Loki season 2 so if there's any characterization or things about him from that not included here, apologies!

"🥤 response" I'll use for responses (course)

"🥃 ??" are just for thoughts and silly stuff

Beside that, this is mainly for fun. But well enjoy!

[ladyartemesia]

TEASER: Kim Seokjin and the Mean Omega

Pairing: Nerd Alpha Kim Seokjin x Popular Omega Reader

Genre: A/B/O • Enemies to Lovers • (Sorta) College AU • Best Friend's Brother AU (Who is surprised? No one?)

Teaser Word Count: 3.6K

Teaser Warnings: A/B/O sexual dynamics • suggestive content

Rating: Explicit (18+) (Teaser is PG-13)

Summary: In the modern world, alphas are almost unheard of so why even bother learning about them? After all, as a spoiled (but reasonably kind-hearted) omega who is used to getting whatever she wants, you have better things to do. However, when unexpected circumstances throw you in the path of (extremely) nerdy and (probably?) shy Kim Seokjin, you're shocked to discover that he won't be wrapped around your little finger as easily as all the rest. Bringing that infuriating geek to his knees quickly becomes your personal mission in life... But it turns out that Kim Seokjin is not what he appears to be and the mean omega who eats beta boys for breakfast is about to get way more than she bargained for...

Author’s Note: This story would not be here without the love, support and friendship of my incredible support system. You talk with me, you laugh with me, you listen when I’m crying, and you read my chaotic drafts when I am ready to pull my hair out of my head in frustration. I love you all. @ppersonna @xjoonchildx @untaemedqueen @lemonjoonah. ALSO thank you to each and every one of you who encouraged me to post this story. This fic is dedicated to all of you as a token of my love and appreciation. Your support keeps me writing. Never doubt that for a second.

“...due to discriminatory anti-alpha policies in the late nineteenth and early twentieth century, alphas were nearly eliminated from the general population…”

You heaved a weary sigh and rolled your shoulders—stretching the buttons of your high-end Oxford shirt to their limit. The beta sophomore to your right whined audibly and you smirked.

“...despite efforts to restore the genetic balance of designations, alphas currently comprise less than one percent of the population…”

Your back arched slightly as you crossed your legs, letting the absurdly short hem of your skirt ride up even higher. The poor boy you were tormenting shifted miserably in his seat.

How was he supposed to focus on a Human Biology and Designation Studies lecture when the living breathing embodiment of every sweaty undergrad’s fantasies was twisting her fingers in her hair and wrapping her pretty pink tongue around a strawberry lollipop right there in the middle of class?

“...unlike betas and omegas, alphas possess enhanced strength and the ability to compel other designations with their voice. Unmated alphas especially were often baselessly feared and distrusted...”

You knew exactly how you affected boys like him. You were a shameless tease who relished their attention and the power it brought you. Who needed drugs when driving a man mad with desire was a rush more potent than any high?

“...and that’s all for today so please read pages 450-466 in the text over break and remember to turn in your essay on scent and consent in intimacy—”

That poor sophomore looked like he had finally worked up the courage to speak to you, but you were already out the door and tearing down the hall toward your beautiful (and entirely platonic) counterpart, Kim Taehyung.

“Do you think Professor Moore is unaware that class is over at 3:25 or is he just torturing us for science?”

Taehyung shrugged, falling into step beside you with practiced ease.

“I mean I would torture you for free so it’s hard to say.”

The corner of your mouth quirked up at his characteristic dry humor, but the irritation at being held in that sweltering lecture hall for an extra ten minutes had frayed your temper.

“It’s the last class before spring break, I’m sure he was on some sort of twisted power trip.” You dug around in your purse for some chapstick, ignoring Tae’s amused snorting, “Alphas barely exist anymore and none of us are likely to meet one. Why bother learning what they can do?”

Taehyung tilted his head in amusement.

“You might be surprised.”

The final party before the beginning of spring break was always a laid back affair.

Many people had already caught planes to their various destinations, but your flight was scheduled for early tomorrow morning—leaving you with some time to kill.

Taehyung pressed his newest experimental concoction into your hand within minutes of entering the house (a surprisingly neat bachelor pad owned by two seniors, Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi) and then darted back to the kitchen to craft more questionable alcohol potions like a deranged party warlock.

You had just found a comfortable place on the couch and were contemplating whether sampling your best friend’s mad scientist elixir would be worth the probable damage to your body when—

“H-Hello...”

It was that sophomore from your Designations Studies class. What was his name again? Jungwoo? Jinwook?

“Jungkook,” you smiled, delighted to have remembered before it became awkward. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

You motioned to the empty cushion next to you and the man in question scrambled over like he’d won the lottery.

“I—I know we don’t know each other well, but I noticed you were absent during Professor Moore’s lecture on intimacy and scent consent so I—” he blushed deeply, “I wrote the essay for you—and I brought a copy on my flash drive if-if you want it.”

Your heart melted immediately.

“Oh my gosh Jungkook, that is so sweet of you!”

Your gaze darted over his muscular form and thick brown curls.

Sweet indeed.

“I don’t want to miss out on the learning though,” you pouted, placing a hand on his tattooed bicep. “Can you explain it to me?”

Jungkook nodded vigorously even as his wide eyes fell to where your fingers were sliding slowly over his chest.

Scent consent was a pretty basic and universally known concept, but you really were touched by the handsome sophomore's consideration.

Why not give him (and yourself) a little reward?

“Um so basically if two people are involved in...intimate activities—”

You leaned forward to nip his ear lightly and he whimpered.

“Like this?” you asked innocently.

“Y-Yes. Like that.” He gulped. “In an intimate situation consent or refusal can be smelled. The scent of refusal or reluctance in intimacy is strong, unmistakable, and has a high chemical potency.”

“Is that so?” you drawled, sliding over onto his lap. Jungkook’s eyes rolled back into his head and you bit back a grin.

He was adorable.

“Uh-huh—it—oh my gawd,” (you were nibbling on his ear again) “it can immediately block sexual arousal and performance in the other partner. Meaning, if consent is not present, then it becomes difficult or—ahh” (his voice began to waver under your continued attention) “—or even impossible to continue with intimate acts.”

Your hand slid up to his cheek, bringing him closer till your lips were almost touching.

“Then what does it mean if I’m still so turned on right now?”

“It means,” Jungkook shuddered—nearly delirious with your scent, “that I really really want you.”

Across the room, Park Jimin chuckled as he watched you seduce his enthusiastic friend.

Jeon Jungkook was such a sweet kid.

Hopefully he wouldn’t get too attached.

“Wow... Some people are genuinely born blessed I suppose.”

Jimin turned to see Jung Hoseok eyeing the dimly lit corner where you and the eager young sophomore were exploring each other.

It was a rather...provocative spectacle. Not quite raunchy (you weren’t truly an exhibitionist)—just insanely sexy.

Jimin’s gaze lingered on the smooth curve of your thigh where Jeon Jungkook was currently holding on for dear life.

Lucky bastard.

“Ah you know how she is,” he sighed. “That boy isn’t going to get any farther than anyone else.”

It was relatively common knowledge that you liked to mess around but rarely—if ever— fully hooked up with anyone.

Jimin asked you about it once during a drunken game of truth or dare and you had just shrugged, mumbling something along the lines of avoiding STDs (which—to be fair—was at least part of your motivation), but the truth was a little more complicated than that.

In terms of experience, you weren’t a virgin, but... you hadn’t actually had sex in years.

You loved the chase, the foreplay, the build-up—the game of cat-and-mouse between two people who were attracted to one another.

But the final consummation was always so…

Wildly unfulfilling.

Every encounter left you frustrated. Empty.

Grumpy—even.

So you stopped bothering with it all together. (That was what sex toys were for after all.)

At the end of the day you were perfectly content being labeled a tease—it meant that people tended to know what they were (or rather weren’t) getting into when they rolled the dice with you.

Besides…it hadn’t even put a dent in your throng of admirers.

You were sunny, spoiled, indulgent, almost universally adored—

And you loved every minute of it.

“You know…” Hoseok took a long sip of his drink. “I always thought she would end up with Taehyung, but it’s been three years.”

Like you, Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat and it was only natural that two beautiful and absurdly privileged people would gravitate to one another. You met at a freshman pledge party and had been an inseparable (and formidable) dynamic duo ever since.

The undisputed king and queen of campus.

Yes—maybe the two of you were a little self-absorbed at times, but it was hardly your fault that people tended to instinctively cater to the force of your combined looks, wealth, and charisma.

And it didn’t hurt that neither of you were ever intentionally cruel or unkind.

Just... habitually thoughtless.

(Though not when it came to each other. If anything your friendship was one area where you were both a little more human.)

Jimin shook his head.

“Nah that’s never gonna happen.” He tapped his nose. “They’re scent-crossed.”

Hoseok’s eyes widened.

“Really?”

Scent-crossed pairs didn’t smell sexually attractive to each other.

Like. At all.

No matter how physically or visually appealing an individual might be, it would be near impossible to form a sexual or romantic attachment to them if you were scent-crossed. Alphas, betas, and omegas were all subject to their noses first and foremost in the realm of attraction.

You and Taehyung smelled like comfort and home to one another...

But you were more turned on by a crisp cup of apple juice than you were his scent and the feeling was quite mutual.

He might as well have been your actual brother.

“That explains so much.” Hoseok snorted as he watched a drunken Taehyung do a flying leap on top of both you and Jungkook.

“Why is sunlight so offensive?” you croaked, dragging yourself and your luggage toward the boarding ramp next to an equally miserable Taehyung.

“The next time I book a flight before 9 AM, please shoot me,” he grunted.

Your parents were celebrating their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary with a month-long European cruise so your best friend had graciously invited you to spend two glorious weeks of spring vacation at his family estate.

The invitation had actually come as somewhat of a surprise because—for all your closeness—Taehyung was uncharacteristically tight-lipped about his family.

Not that he was deliberately withholding information per se… It was just that he never really brought them up beyond an occasional passing comment.

The one time you did ask him about them directly he sighed and said—

“We’re very close, but… I suppose we’ve just gotten used to being very private.”

There was clearly more to the story, but you were confident that Tae would share it if and when he was ready.

“My parents are in Seoul opening a new branch of the company. They took my little sister with them and my older brother has his own house so it will be just us.” He snuggled deeper into the first class seat directly next to yours. “We’ll hang out by the pool and chill during the day, then hit up some of the new clubs or whatever at night.”

“So… No one from your family will be there?”

Perhaps the invitation was not so surprising after all.

“Nope. Just you and me and thirty acres of ocean front property.”

You grinned.

“Perfect.”

“Whose room is that?”

The two of you were lugging your bags down the main hall of Taehyung’s expansive mansion when a strange hint of...something caught you right by the nose.

Your friend turned to find you frozen and staring curiously at a familiar door near the balcony.

His eyes widened, but you were too preoccupied to notice his momentary concern.

“That’s just Jin’s room.”

A firm hand wrapped around your wrist and dragged you away, but your eyes stayed glued to the source of the mysterious scent until you were around the corner and out of sight.

Your suite for the next two weeks was right across the hall from Taehyung’s. There was a whirlpool, a full bath, a balcony, and an ocean view that would rival the cover spread of any travel magazine.

Tae headed for the shower (to ‘wash the airplane off’) immediately after showing you the room and you were thinking of doing the same except…

Your mind kept going back to that door and the hint of scent you detected.

There was something… different about it.

It was faint—and far from fresh (which made sense considering that one of the few things you did know about Kim Seokjin was that he hadn’t lived in this house for years).

But still…

The need to smell it again pressed insistently at the back of your mind.

Suddenly the sound of Taehyung singing raunchy lyrics in the shower carried over through the walls and you found your feet moving almost of their own accord.

What Tae doesn’t know won’t hurt him, you rationalized, making your way down the hall toward Jin’s door. Besides—it’s not as if I’m going to steal anything…

You just needed to find that scent again.

By the time your fingers closed over the knob every one of your nerves was strangely—acutely—alert but nothing could have prepared you for what was waiting behind the door.

Oh. My. Gosh.

“What a colossal nerd.”

The room was covered floor to ceiling in Nintendo memorabilia.

Bright primary colors assaulted your eyes from all directions in the form of action figures, posters, pillows, and every other conceivable merch variety known to man.

In the center of the suite stood a large king-sized bed covered in a custom black couture toile-style Mario-verse bed set (that looked every bit as expensive as it was geeky) and a mountain of high quality Nintendo character plush toys.

Everything was simultaneously luxe and nostalgic—a rare combination of sophisticated aesthetic balance and childlike indulgence.

And the scent was there.

It was faint and covered under layers of cleaner and air fresheners, but still lingering just below the surface—too weak for you to get a really good whiff, yet potent enough to torment you.

You moved forward unconsciously toward the strongest source of the hypnotic smell—the strangely inviting expanse of Kim Seokjin’s mattress.

Suddenly the urge to climb—no crawl—across the bed itself and roll around in it like a kitten in catnip gripped you out of nowhere.

“What the hell?” you muttered, rubbing absently over the mating gland at the base of your neck.

Something very odd was going on with your body.

Your restless gaze zeroed in on one of the stuffed toys piled atop his pillows. It was a cute little mushroom man your brain recognized as a Mario character named ‘Toad’.

Take it.

Your mouth dropped open in shock.

You need it.

“Am I going insane?” you wondered aloud.

You have to take it.

Muscles in your hand began to twitch involuntarily. You bit your lip.

Bring it back with you.

Several minutes later a freshly washed Taehyung wandered over to your room and found you sitting perfectly still on your bed while staring off into space.

His head tilted in curious concern.

“Everything ok?”

You started a bit at the sound of his voice, but recovered quickly.

“Never better!” you chirped—almost too brightly. “Let’s go get some dinner, I’m starving.”

Then you grabbed his hand and pulled him down the hall toward the kitchen—shutting the door before he could catch a glimpse of his brother’s stuffed Toad doll stashed underneath your pillow

“...a critical water main rupture in the city’s New Market district early this morning has forced several residents out of their homes as flood water swelled up to nearly two feet. The governor declared a state of emergency and ordered hotels around the city to accommodate the displaced citizens. Crews are still clearing the water and assessing damages. We expect—

“Hey!” you shouted through a mouthful of cereal, after Your best friend switched off the television, “I was watching that!”

“And what you should be doing is getting ready for the pool.” Tae snatched your cereal bowl and dragged you by your shirt collar toward the stairs. “It is the first morning of our vacation. I’m not trying to waste any time. Now go.” He shoved you forward, smacking your ass for good measure.

You swatted back at him half-heartedly as jogged back up to the room where you enjoyed a surprisingly restful sleep last night.

Kim Seokjin’s door glared at you accusingly as you shuffled past—unable to let you forget that you had kidnapped it’s little mushroom man in an unexplained fit of kleptomania, but that was a problem for your future self.

The you of right now was going to zen out in the Kim family's premium glass-enclosed indoor pool (it was still a little chilly for the outdoor pool) with her best friend and bask in the simple joys of good company and no responsibility.

...Or not.

A few minutes later you bounced into the living room wearing a simple black tankini with a cute floral cover only to find Taehyung on the phone with his head in his hands.

“Yes, sir. I understand… I...I know this is my responsibility...”

That didn’t sound good.

After a few more tense moments, Tae hung up and collapsed backward into the couch with a heavy sigh.

“That water main break you heard about on TV this morning was the last straw between the province and its current contractor. They called an emergency meeting for new bids.”

Your heart dropped as you sank down beside him.

“Your dad wants you to go...doesn’t he.”

Taehyung nodded miserably.

“He can’t leave the Seoul opening on such short notice and managing government construction contracts is part of what I’ve been training for. This could be huge for our company.”

“Well...why doesn’t your brother go?”

“Jin is the brains behind most of our patented gaming and tech innovations. He wouldn’t even know where to begin with this sort of thing. Besides,” his lips quirked up in a rueful grin, “my brother doesn’t have the patience to stroke entitled geriatric egos for hours on end—which is likely what I’m going to have to do.”

The two of you headed back to Taehyung’s room where you helped him pack some suits and toiletries for his trip.

Naturally you were disappointed but...this was a great opportunity for your best friend to prove himself in his chosen field and you both knew it. In fact, he was already starting to brighten a bit.

“The meeting is about a hundred miles north of here. My dad’s secretary already handled the flight and hotel room.” His eyes darted around the suite to see if he was forgetting anything.

It was clear he was nervous, though you were sure he didn’t need to be. Kim Taehyung was a trust fund brat, but he was also talented and deeply passionate about his family’s company.

Someday this would be the norm. The two of you were stealing time in college, determined to live a little before the expectations of your powerful families transferred fully onto your shoulders.

It was becoming more and more clear, however, that your carefree time was slowly running out.

Mother had already spoken to you about potential marriage alliances and your father expected you to intern with his Vice President this summer just as your elder sister had...

Taehyung’s voice suddenly interrupted your bittersweet introspection and you couldn’t help but smile at how grown-up he looked in his suit and briefcase ensemble.

Everything was going to change, but not quite yet.

“They estimate negotiations should take around a week or so…” He walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. “There should still be some vacation left for us when I get back.”

“Hurry back then,” you mumbled grumpily into his chest and he chuckled.

“I will.”

Taehyung had been gone for less than twenty minutes when you decided that the best use of your time would be to eat more snacks.

The last thing you expected when you skipped merrily into the kitchen was to find it occupied by a shaggy-haired homeless man in glasses.

Your first instinct was to scream which caused the homeless man to drop the apple he was biting right onto the floor where it rolled around for a small eternity before coming to rest at his ankles.

Your second instinct was to grab a butcher’s cleaver from the nearby knife block and wave it chaotically at the intruder while shouting something along the lines of—

“You’ve made a huge mistake! My boyfriend is the biggest, meanest mafia boss in Seoul! Leave now and he might let you live!”

The homeless man continued to stare at you with a mixture of confusion and shock, but made no move to run away in terror like you were hoping.

So you tried again.

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! The last man who touched me drinks his steak through a straw now! Do the smart thing and leave before my boyfriend comes down those stairs and it’s too late!”

Infuriatingly, the homeless man was still not fleeing for his life and frankly you were starting to get frustrated. You drew in a deep cleansing breath and were prepared to issue another grandiose threat when he finally spoke.

“I’m sorry, miss. I... think there’s been some sort of mistake. Who is your boyfriend?”

There was no rational explanation for what came out of your mouth next, but it rolled off your tongue so smoothly and you didn’t even flinch.

“Kim Seokjin.”

For the first time in your entire exchange, the intruder looked truly alarmed.

Now that’s more like it.

“You’ve heard of him I see. He’s a dangerous man and my body belongs to him.” You slammed the cleaver down onto the countertop with a (hopefully) menacing slash. “Kim Seokjin doesn’t like when other men put their hands on what belongs to him.”

There was a long, unpardonably tense moment of silence…Then the stranger slowly reached forward and picked up a mobile phone from the table in front of him.

His eyes remained locked with yours as he pressed a quick series of buttons, brought the phone to his ear, waited a few seconds and said—

“Taehyung… Would you mind telling me why there is a half-naked, knife-wielding omega in our kitchen claiming to be my girlfriend?”

Hello! Please comment on this post if you would like to be added to the taglist!

You guys were all so wonderful, and encouraging, and excited that I literally got this teaser out in three days! If you like what you read so far, please let me know! I cannot put into words how meaningful and valuable feedback is to me. I truly treasure it! It fuels my creativity and keeps me writing. I would love to hear from you!

[notchesandbullets]

She’s Mine (Protective!Bakugou x Punk!Tattooed!Reader) feat. Erasermic

Warnings: racism, implied homophobia (not by anyone in the main cast), sexism, discrimination/discriminatory behavior, Modern!AU, Aged-Up!AU, features Bakugou’s parents, Erasermic, Kota, Eri, Mahoro, Katsuma and all of Class A defending you when insults start to fly.

Synopsis: This is not the first time you’re seeing Bakugou’s family but it is the first time you’re meeting his grandmother, who is not the best company to be around. He comes to your defense after you stand up for yourself and he had no qualms about sticking his face in the old hag’s because he’d be damned if he lets anyone talk to you like that. You’re his.

Words: 3.2k

“Y/N’s here!!!” Mitsuki called over her shoulder as she threw the front door wide open before you could even ring the doorbell.

Her son had texted her that you two were on their way and she was eager to see you. With the job and your relationship with her son, you two were busy bees and didn’t come around as often anymore. 

Which is why she insisted that her stubborn son at least come around for his birthday since it only happened one day out of the year. Then he could continue doing whatever it was that he was doing. 

Luckily, you were on her side and helped convince him to go just this once.

You laughed at the pitter-patter of tiny feet scampering across the cherry hardwood before dropping everything to catch the little kid that tunneled into your legs. 

“Y/N!!! You’re back!!!”

Eri’s ruby red eyes sparkled with joy as she clung to your legs.

“I missed you!!!” She shouted excitedly, hugging your knees tight.

You giggled, resting a hand on top of her head. “I missed you too, munchkin.”

Bakugou snorted behind you and you were reminded of his presence. “Oi, brat. Are you going to let us in or what?”

Eri stuck her tongue out at him childishly before dashing back inside, a trick she learned from her big brother Izuku, doubling back to grab your hand and hauled you inside with her. You casted a glance over your shoulder at your boyfriend but he shrugged, giving you the go-ahead.

He would catch up to you two troublemakers later. Besides, he knew you would want to see all the kids first. 

Kota, an orphan whose extended family gave him up for adoption, along with the siblings, Mahoro and Katsuma, were all under Aizawa’s guardianship.

After he adopted Eri, it sort of just snowballed until he was in too deep. He told Mic repeatedly that it wasn’t his fault that he had a soft spot for orphans.

His husband had merely shook his head with a laugh and hoisted Katsuma up higher so that he could reach the cupcakes they were going to sneak behind his back before dinner.

Mitsuki closed the door behind him as her son kicked off his shoes. 

“She gets that from me.” She said proudly as she gazed lovingly at Eri. She loved having her around the house. 

Since Aizawa and Mic lived relatively close, they came over often since she was feeling rather lonely with an empty nest.

Bakugou snorted. “Yeah, no shit.”

His mother glared at him for his language but didn’t reprimand him like she normally would and his eyes turned into hateful slits.

“Don’t tell me—” He started, gritting his teeth.

“They’re here.” She said with a heavy sigh.

Bakugou cursed vehemently under his breath, his brow furrowing deeply as he fought to control himself. He was banking on them not making an appearance today. 

His grandparents on his dad’s side, though he adored his grandad and thought the world of him, he absolutely could not stand his grandmother. 

She was racist, sexist, had limited views on literally everything and would raise hell if she didn’t get her way and she was a huge pain in his ass.

Even his own mother couldn’t stand her and that was saying something because she tolerated everyone to some degree, despite her odd love language when it came to him. 

They were both shit at communicating but it had gotten better as he got older. 

Now, the worst things that happened were spats here and there when they disagreed but his mother was usually good about backing off if she felt he could make the right decision for himself, which wasn’t often but it was better than none. 

Bakugou strolled inside and his eyes softened for a second when he saw you playing with Mahoro, Kota sitting on your lap as Eri was climbing all over Midoriya. You four were currently playing Monopoly and Eri exclaiming in shock as she realized she was losing since the devious Kota was slowly claiming more and more property.

“Haha!!” He cackled, rubbing his hands together evilly. “You landed on the purple one!!”

“No fair!!” Eri protested. “I don’t have enough money!!!”

“Too bad!!”

“Deku-niichan.” Eri cried, her eyes watering and you nearly fell over laughing as he frantically tried to get her to stop crying. 

The rest of his old class from college was already here, as per his mother’s request and Kirishima’s invitation.

Shinsou, Tsuyu, Todoroki and Iida were all near the food, the previous class rep serving drinks even though it wasn’t his job to play host. 

Tokoyami was currently engaged in a conversation with his dad and as Bakugou spun around the room, he realized every last one of his old classmates had shown up.

It was fucking crowded in his house. 

But the spark of joy he felt diminished the instant he saw his grandmother and he scowled, straying to your side almost protectively as her eyes burned into his back. 

This. 

This was why he didn’t fucking want her here. He didn’t want her to rain judgement upon the person who had won over his heart.

No way in hell.

Look, you weren’t fragile by any means. Your heart was filled with a healthy amount of self-esteem and you had built up your walls to protect yourself against people who had something to say about your many tattoos or piercings, yet you still were the kindest soul he had ever met. 

It was in the way you walked and interacted with people, a genuine smile always present on your features as you gave them more respect than most would give you upon first glance.

Bakugou knew you could handle yourself but you shouldn’t have to with his own fucking relatives. That shit was messed up. 

You glanced at your boyfriend out of the corner of your eye and your gaze dropped down to where his hands were clenched into fists, jaw locked tight and you sigh, softly urging Kota to get up and continue playing with Mahoro and Katsuma until you got back.

The boy grumbled but did as you asked, easily getting swept up in the competition of the game as you drifted to Bakugou’s side.

“I know that look,” You murmured into his ear, your hand covering his as you ignored the idle chatter coming from your friends and family around you. “What’s wrong?”

Bakugou clenched his teeth and debated about it for a second.

“Nothing.” He spat out eventually, choosing to deal with the old hag himself and you let him go when he stomped off, knowing that Kirishima or Kaminari would handle whatever it was that just happened if he didn’t want to talk to you about it. 

Momo greeted you warmly and a smile slipped onto your face as though it had never left. 

You hadn’t bothered to dress all that nice or different from your usual getup, feeling more comfortable in leather and all black that looked like you just came from a rock concert but you got the feeling that not everyone was feeling it as much as Jirou was when she came over to compliment you on your fashion taste.

Shoji and Koda each greeted you respectively and before you knew it, the catered dinner arrived and it was finally time to eat. The judging look you had been aware of from someone you didn’t recognize passing by as you brushed it off as unimportant and focused on helping Mitsuki set the table. 

You clapped your hands gleefully when Eri pitched in to help, complimenting her on how well of a job she did as she finished and you beamed at her when she smiled up at you.

Of course, Aizawa needed to help her since he didn’t want her to stand on a chair and lose her balance but it was easy enough to lift her up. She wasn’t that big yet. 

He had already told Mic he was dreading the day when she would grow up and have to leave home to start her own life and his husband patted him on the back sympathetically, reassuring him that it wouldn’t be the end of the world. 

They loved their children and their children absolutely adored them. 

You had told them as such on more than one occasion since they got insecure that they weren’t adequate parents but you reassured them that they were perfectly imperfect.

They put their kids’ health, safety and happiness before everything else and did everything they could for them. 

You wished your own parents had done that for you. 

As soon as you set down the place settings for everyone and called everyone in for dinner, they flooded the huge dining table that overflowed into the living area to accommodate everyone. 

Bakugou had left for a second to grab something from his old bedroom, promising to be back right away and you reassured him that you would be fine. 

You were barely into helping Mic convince a stubborn Kota to take a spoonful of green beans onto his plate, Shinsou helping Aizawa with Mahoro’s vegetable serving, when a throat cleared itself loudly.

The lively chatter died all around the table died down as grey eyes pierced your own and you stiffened but held your ground. 

You knew that look, you had seen it too many times. 

The older woman opened her mouth and spoke.

“So, you’re my grandson’s girlfriend?” She enunciated, looking you up and down from where she was sitting at the head of the table, her hands setting down her knitting project to glare at you. “I don’t see why he’s dating you.”

The expressions of shock at her vulgar words made several of your friends angry in your defense, Iida and Todoroki trembling in anger and Mina’s eyes narrowed as she dropped her happy-go-lucky personality in favor of ripping her a new one. 

But before any of them could act, she was continuing evenly.

“For someone who doesn’t know how to dress properly and looks like that, I mean, it’s already bad enough that your skin is that color, my dear, and you’ve ruined it even further with those ugly things.” She spat, unaware of the wrath she was evoking from every single person in the room. 

Kaminari’s electric eyes glowed as he saw red. “Bad enough?” 

“Excuse me?” Shoji seethed with unparalleled anger rising up in his chest, a rare sight for the normally calm and collected man.

Jirou, Ochako and Momo were furious at the way she was talking down to you and they shared a look amongst themselves, communicating wordlessly that this wasn’t going to be allowed to get out of hand any longer.

Kirishima was visibly shaking and even the normally shy Koda was fuming in his seat, openly glaring at the elderly woman who spewed insults at you. 

A chair scraped back as Midoriya shot up but you shook your head, holding your finger up to your lips as you subtly gestured for everyone to hold back. 

Aizawa’s nostrils flared from where he was covering Eri’s ears while several of his former students took care of the rest of the kids to make sure they wouldn’t hear this.

To their horror, the grandmother wasn’t even close to being done as she pointed a gnarly finger at you.

“Your job as a girl is to stay in the kitchen and attend to your husband. To even think you’re worth anything if you weren’t involved with my grandson is absurd.” She hissed at you venously, her skewed ideals rooted deeply in her beliefs and how she was raised. “You are a disgrace to even breathe the same air as someone like me.”

“Mother!!”

Bakugou’s father frantically tried to amend what had been done and Mitsuki was about to yell at her but you stopped her. 

Everyone’s eyes turned on you as you took a deep breath. 

“I’m sorry you feel that way, but I won’t apologize for being who I am.” You said quietly but firmly, failing to notice someone coming down the stairs and overhearing your steady words as they flowed from your lips like honey. 

Not tricks. Just genuine sympathy, like you didn’t even hear her say all those horrible things to you. 

It was supposed to be your boyfriend’s day and you weren’t going to ruin it for him in the same manner that she had just done. 

“I understand what you’re saying, but don’t you think that we should be allowed to love who we love?” 

You inclined your head slightly, allowing a sliver of the emotion you felt to slip onto your face as you glanced pointedly as Aizawa and Mic.

After you noticed her staring so openly at you, you also noticed that she would scowl whenever the two men would walk in the room and play with their kids and while you would take whatever she was going to throw at you, you weren’t going to tolerate the same for them.

They didn’t deserve that.

Holding up your arm, you inspected the ink running up and down the length of it. “As for my appearance, my style is my own. I don’t recall asking for your opinion.”

There were a couple of snickers from Jirou, Kaminari, Sero and Mineta as you put her in his place and Todoroki leaned back in his seat, gazing up at you proudly as you stood your ground without firing any hate back at the old woman. 

Hagakure clapped her hands jubilantly as a few cheers of agreement sounded around from the table but you had one more thing to say. 

Your eyes softened. “I understand how you may feel about me, but I don’t need your acceptance. I love myself just as I am and if Katsuki ever feels differently about me and we split, then we’ll split. But please do not judge my love for him based on how you believe I should be. I am who I am and I won’t ever apologize for that.”

“And you never fucking have to.”

Bakugou strolled into the dining area, smirking at the old hag who had the nerve to look shocked at his appearance. Of course she would be so fucking disgusting to say something this horrible to you when he wasn’t within earshot. 

Bitch. 

Blood relations didn’t excuse behavior. 

Narrowing his vermilion eyes at his grandmother, he faced her head on as he took your hand into his. 

“She’s my fucking girlfriend.” He declared, tenacity and stubbornness dripping off of his tone as he snarled at his grandmother. “And if you ever speak to her like that again—”

He nodded in time to Mic and Aizawa, the men who had mentored him and taught him almost everything he knew. 

“Or either of them, including the rest of these shitheads, I’ll fucking kill you.”

The veiled threat hung in the air and you squeaked as Bakugou abruptly dragged you to the front door.

“Where are you going?!” Mitsuki cried out, worried that you both were going to leave without eating anything and she was sad to think that her mother-in-law had driven you away.

Bakugou gnashed his teeth at the confused clamour that arose from his classmates. “Out!! We’ll be back later!!”

You could hardly get a word in edgewise as he dragged you all the way out to the car after barely giving you enough time to put on your shoes.

“Katsuki!! What—”

Your bewildered protests were interrupted as he whirled around and kissed you hard. You melted into his touch as his hot palms settled on your hips, pulling you flush against him. Whining softly when he pulled away, you panted as he breathed hard against you, his exhales fanning out over your face.

You were in a daze as he led you to the car, buckling you in before he got in the driver’s seat. 

And he drove, taking a detour that would take him towards the countryside where there were no people, no places, just you and him. 

Just how he liked it. 

The painted lavenders and pale pinks of the setting sun faded to midnight black with stars twinkling high above you as you cruised around for hours before he finally spoke. 

“I’m sorry.” He apologized quietly and you immediately grabbed his hand that wasn’t currently occupied with steering.

“No!! You don’t have anything to apologize for—”

“Yes I do.”

His grip tightened on the steering wheel a fraction as he slowly explained that if he had told you earlier about what she was capable of instead of ranting to his best friend like an idiot, maybe he could’ve—

“Katuski.”

Your soft murmur brought him back down to planet Earth and you shook your head firmly. 

“It’s not your fault.” You told him without wavering once as he brought the car to a stop just at the edge of the trail. “I don’t blame you at all.”

Bakugou slammed his hand against the steering wheel angrily. “Yes it fucking is!!!”

He ranted and he ranted about how he had come downstairs only to hear his own flesh and blood spitting those vile insults that you didn’t deserve at all. 

You didn’t deserve it at all.

You were quiet when he finished and when his chest was heaving with the spent rage he had aired out, you asked, “Feel better?”

“Like hell I do!!!” He snapped at you, about to go off again when he noticed the bemused expression on your face. “What the fuck, dumbass?”

You tilted your head in confusion. “Huh?”

“Why the hell aren’t you bothered at all?” He questioned, genuinely flabbergasted. 

Eyes clearing in understanding, you traced the back of his hand with your fingers. “Because it doesn’t bother me.”

At the sight of Bakugou opening his mouth, you hurried out, “I mean, do you really think someone like that gets to cut me down? Her words don’t mean anything to me.”

You hesitated and opened yourself a little bit, trusting him not to take advantage of your weakness because while her words stung in the moment, it was nothing your heart couldn’t come back from. But…

“If you were to say them, it would hurt a lot more, but I don’t think you would— eep!!”

You yelped as he dragged you over to his seat, yanking at the seatbelt that got in the way, but pulled you to his chest once he released the safety clip.

“Never.” He breathed against your hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I would fucking never.”

You closed your eyes. “I know.”

There, in his car, you two stayed in a tight embrace under the stars until you it got late enough that you insisted you should go back and at least spend the rest of the time with your friends, which, if their sleeping schedules hadn’t changed since college, there was a good chance almost all of them would still be up.

So Bakugou drove you both back, his heart a little more at ease after he got to hold you close and be alone with you. 

That was all he wanted.

Well… He thought to himself as he unconsciously brushed his left hand over the small velvet box that had been hastily stuffed in his pocket the second he grabbed it from his room.

That and one other thing.

[snapeaddict]

Hi, what do you say to the people who claim Regulus is the real Slytherin hero, and not Snape? To me RAB always seemed like a plot device and nothing more so I don't get why he's being worshipped... He's just another rich pureblood kid...

I say this is a very bad take, and it is disrespectful (that's a strong word for something that isn't really important but I cannot think of a softer version) of the actual people who enjoy his character. I'm going to write down some thoughts, but there's more to it than just what I would reply to them - allow me to ramble a little on the roots of this claim and on the thought process embraced by Snaters and Marauders apologists (I've seen that some people don't like this term, so I mean people who erase the Marauders' flaws and make them morally superior to Snape, justifying them being abusers and him being abused.)

The nonsense of comparing a plot device to a complex, layered character: Comparing Severus and Regulus is ludicrous. You are comparing one of the most (I would argue the most well-written and complex, but Dumbledore is quite something as well) well-written, accomplished character of the books to a plot device. It is indeed what Regulus is, no matter if his character could have been really interesting/seems to be interesting: we know very little of him, and he exists solely for the Slytherin locket plot. The very little we know of him certainly isn't enough to express any critical judgment of his character; he is mostly made out of white pages which are filled out by his fans, which is great, and by the people making this kind of argument, which is unfortunate.

The interest in the character only stems in his usefulness: I would argue that the vast majority of people making this claim do not care at all for the character himself, despite using him as a moral high ground. It is not his character which interests them, but how useful he can be to fuel their hate and biased claims. His personality? Having being sorted in Slytherin. His merits? Being a Slytherin. This is the only fact that matters, because it allows them to 'prove' that Snape wasn't a hero (being a hero does not mean being a good person, by the way) and diminishes Severus' merits. Using a character solely for the purpose of depreciating, downgrading another is not appreciating them: it's just completely hypocritical. This is often the kind of flat argument used by people opposed to social justice movements, if you will allow the broad comparison: using something you have never cared for before (often minority populations) in an attempt to depreciate something, even though the very fact you are using them for this purpose shows how little concerned you are with the actual people you are talking about. Well, it reminds me of this a bit. The true purpose is to try and impose your own views, and here they try to legitimise them by filling an almost inexistent character with their views to carry on with their agenda.

The sudden leniency toward privileged characters: Making such a claim in fact once again proves that Snaters have an extremely biased, subjective and elitist vision of what being good means, an opinion on what is moral integrity (and superiority because they keep comparing people), which they also apply to James and Sirius. I think Regulus is loved because he is a Black, respected by the fandom because he comes from a pureblood, rich family. It is very easy to prove: look at how much love Draco and Lucius get, despite being supporters of blood supremacy, active members of a terrorist group, using discriminatory insults on a daily basis, being actively supportive of the murders of muggle borns/participating in these murders [do not misinterpret this - I'm pointing out double standards, not saying they should not be loved. One's interest in a character does not depend on the character's morals]. Look at how respected Snape was in the fandom before book 6, when people thought he was a rich pureblood from an ancient family. Social hierarchy has a great impact on how people view characters, and they tend to be much more lenient toward privileged characters, because prestige is attractive, even in fiction. Similarly - but it is more concealed - there is the usual refusal to acknowledge that social inequalities do impact one's life, choices, and opportunities to be or do good. The quote "You didn't make good choices! You had good choices" (Little Fires Everywhere) works quite well in this context, especially regarding James and Severus, but also regarding the Blacks versus Severus. Severus' survival was completely, utterly dependent on his adherence to blood supremacist values. This must be taken into account - but weirdly, this is an argument that is often used to prove Sirius' moral superiority, because his family required him to share their beliefs. This is ignoring that despite his difficulties, he still beneficiated from a support system and privileges that others did not have access to. Similarly, you cannot compare Regulus' and Severus' choices. And in my opinion, both are tragic; but if we had to take part in Snaters' silly arguments, then I would remind them that Regulus effectively had no obligation to join Voldemort, his parents were not death eaters. The pressure both characters experienced certainly wasn't of the same nature - even perhaps not of the same intensity. But does comparing them makes any sense, again...

The social biases: While Snape is blamed for his decision to join the death Eaters (rightly), Regulus is praised for his decision to leave them. While Regulus is pitied because he came from a family who brought him up with this ideology (just like Draco is), which apparently takes off all responsibility from him, Severus' background is never considered as a factor which pushed him right into extremists' opened arms. Regulus' privilege is used as an excuse; Snape's social disadvantage and familial issues are, at best, ignored, at worst, interpreted as proof of his inherently bad nature. Some people associate his upbringing with him being bad, whether they want to acknowledge it or not. While Regulus is headcanonned as handsome, Snape is constantly described as 'greasy' and 'ugly' by these same people, and you can see exactly how important appearances are to them. I'm even going to argue that worshipping a rich, handsome, privileged pureblood must sound better to them than being fond of the 'greasy git', and I am also saying these are mostly internalised biases. When you read these claims carefully, it sounds like in the mind of these people, Regulus is more legitimate as Slytherin's hero because he is better - inherently. And it is easy to see why.

The double-standards and their disturbing roots: This is also plainly ignoring the fact that Regulus and Snape defected for the same reasons, if we must make comparisons. Voldemort was targeting one of their loved ones, Kreatur for the former and Lily for the later, which made them realise, because they are humans and thus not selfless, how wrong his methods were when they turned against them. However, in Snape's case, turning against Voldemort in an attempt to save Lily is often held as proof of his selfishness/absence of morality: he wanted her for himself, he only deflected because someone he liked was in danger. In Regulus' case however, his gesture is seen as heroic and compassionate. Why? Well, there are a variety of reasons apart from Snaters' double standards, but I have noticed that most of them seem to think of Lily as 'belonging' to either James or Snape, and think Snape unworthy of having ever had Lily as a friend because of some kind of deep rooted flaws he had even as a child ('He tried to hurt Petunia with accidental magic when he was 11, he was always bad'. In fact I should make a post about how horrible this claim is.) In Regulus' case however, wanting to save Kreatur is seen as an act of compassion. Why? Not only because they want to make Regulus look better than Snape. I think it is also because Kreatur is a house-elf, an inferior being: Regulus' wish to protect him becomes praiseworthy, laudable, because house-elves do not really deserve consideration. So wanting to save him becomes an act of generosity. Even when you're not thinking of the double standards, this way of thinking is disturbing. Snape also turned against Voldemort at the age of 20, 21? Like Regulus did if I recall? They weren't death Eaters for very long. They both actively fought to bring Voldemort down. It would be tremendously hypocritical, wrong and plain bad faith to think of Regulus' action as superior to Snape's 20 years of hard work to bring Voldemort down.

So why can't Snape be a hero? I think this claim is a confession. To me it shows a very simplistic vision of heroism, of good and bad, of models, and a complete refusal to consider the grey, sometimes praise the grey- it's a failure to accept the complexity of the human functioning. Thinking that the people we praise for certain actions, or consider to be examples must be flawless is vain, simply because it is unrealistic, and we could not admire them/relate to them/like or dislike them/learn from them if they were not like us, layered and flawed - but this is exactly what this claim desperately wants us to believe. Or rather, what Snaters want to believe, while imposing their very biased views of good and bad, themselves rooted in prejudices. This is why they are using a character that is mostly inexistent: an empty, one dimensional character can fulfil this aim. This is also why so many people fail to appreciate characters such as James, Sirius and Remus without completely ripping off their flaws, and thus complexness - they cannot be loved if you can find fault in them.

[nightswithkookmin]

So there are a some armies majority of them taekook , that are angry because we are celebrating gcf in Tokyo , they are saying this video isn’t about Jimin it’s about jungkook skills and sharing it with armies , jk says all his videos have meaning he likes to convey a message through his videos , why are they ignoring the fact that have of the video 95% of him showing Jimin the whole time , why are they acting blind to the fact that he and Jimin went on that trip and that video shows their bond.

Lol. Nothing new there really. That's their schtick.

Double standards

Selective reasoning

Selective comprehension

Fake wokery

Bigotry

Kate keeping

And Anti Jiminshi.

And these are just the minor leagues baby. These are the same people who believe JK gave a block of snow to Jimin as a gift only after Tae had rejected it because Jimin is JK's second choice and unworthy to be genuinely loved even as a friend of JK's.

These are the same people who mass reported GCF in Tokyo as misleading content on YouTube and then ran to Twitter to laugh about it.

Same people who wouldn't stream Who because Jimin was on it with JK.

They are right though, GCF Tokyo is about JK's skills and talent as a film maker, director, producer and editor and shipping shouldn't take away from it....

If that is the logic they are falling on to back this claim, then surely they must know GCF in Tokyo is not just about JK's skills and talent but also about Jimin's skills and talent as a model and actor for Golden Closet Films?

Or are they forgetting Jimin is human and an artist too? That he works just as hard as JK to produce the beautiful shots of himself as spontaneous as he can in these GCFs. This is really disturbing. Give Jimin his due credit while y'all's running around being fake woke, Jimin Anti in OT7 clothes. Jimin contributed to GCF in Tokyo too not just JK.

Better still, give Jikook their credit because they both worked hard on that film, both invested their time, their energy, their resources and their hearts into making the film that they made.

Shipping Jikook is not just about celebrating JK, it is also about celebrating PARK JIMIN because he is the other half of that ship. Asking shippers not to celebrate something they both contributed to is not woke- it's blatant hatred for both of them disguised as legitimate concerns. We see right through it- try again.

Asking shippers to only focus on JK's contribution is discriminatory against Park Jimin, belittling of his own efforts and contributions to GCF in Tokyo and an invalidation and discrediting of JK's credits given to Jimin- as he should. Jimin is a genius.

Jimin is not only credited as Actor in the credits but his name is in the Title of the Film too- Y'all are gonna burn in hell for this. Jimin did nothing wrong- if you hate him please go to hell but don't silence the voices of those who love, support and appreciate him and his boyfriend. Yes I said boyfriend- meet me in a gay court.

They hate JK, they hate Jimin and they hate them together. Their actions speak louder than their words. Persons who attack Jikook supporters mainly do so because they are homophobic and want to weaken the support base of Jikook nothing else.

And by the way, THIS THEM?😯

They want what Jikook has for their ship so bad which is a shame because Taekook dynamics is really beautiful as it is. Tae and Jimin's ships are some of the best in the game- certified and I ship them all. But it seems their shippers aren't satisfied with them and they are out here shopping men and stealing dynamics for their biases. Chilee, It's really embarrassing. They don't deserve Taekook.

Hashtag Free Taekook from these fake woke fangdom. They deserve better. Jikook deserve better. Keep supporting Jikook.

Signed,

GOLDY

[lycianthes-art]

Echinacea Chapter 2

Now, as for the princess she had taken Wynn, a unicorn, from the stables, and was now outside Kratom, the kingdom of the Serpentes… Though, even for its title, strangely Kratom housed not only Serpentes but any kind if reptilian.

(Hm? Why did she take a unicorn? Well they’re simply the fastest horses, even faster than a Pegasus.)

In trying to remain inconspicuous she, perhaps, made herself more conspicuous. She donned standard riding boots, though perhaps a little too clean for the average person. A sash of deep green fabric tied around her waist and draped over one leg, making it glaringly obvious that she belonged to the human nobility. A white ruffled blouse, once again too clean for the average person and too ostentatious to be owned by a commoner. Not to mention her dark green cloak, embroidered with golden thread and fastened with a sparkling deep green emerald brooch. Like her mother, she was pale and had green eyes. The main point of distinction was her blonde hair. Now blonde hair was relatively rare among humans—at least rare enough to cause a scandal within the human royal family. Let us save such gossip for another time.

In fact, the only population with a significant blonde demographic were the Dwarves, and perhaps some avian races. Although avian hair color presents more sunshine-yellow than blonde, since it’s genetically tied to the color of their plumage.

Ah, but it seems I’m losing myself again—I have yet to even describe Kratom. Kratom is a large, walled city surrounded by forest. Its influence does not extend beyond this local; thus, the nation and municipality called Kratom are one and the same. Each wall encases a particular social class: The royal palace the center, then the upper class in the adjacent ring, and so on. The lowest class however, lives outside the walls, shunned by society. The citizens of Kratom pride themselves on their ability to blend in—rather, to camouflage themselves within any culture. Their city and architecture showing this well, from the stone, fortressed walls of Echinacea, to the ionic pillars of Verbena. The style mimicking is even shown in housing with the symmetry of the elven citadel Ginko and the Wooden siding of Velvet Leaf—the home of the forest elves. In short Kratoman architecture has elements of every culture in the continent of Evel. Though one thing relatively unique to the residents of Kratom is their love of gold—not just the coins, but jewelry and all manner of finery.

Jewelry tends to only be enjoyed by the elite, which brings us to Kratom social hierarchies. It’s rather… discriminatory by human standards—or any other culture’s, for that matter. For Serpentes and Reptilians, it’s a matter of their physical appearance, which manifests immediately when they hatch. The more animalistic their features, the higher their rank. As such, the queen nearly always resembles a giant snake with arms. Reptilians are limited to lower castes; a form that would merit queen-hood in a Serpentes would only allow a Reptilian to rise to knighthood, or maybe baronet, if they’re lucky perhaps even baron. The lowest class is the most human-looking: a face, arms, legs, torso… one could barely tell the difference, if not for the scales. As for clothing, Kratomans wear none, as they don’t have much need for it thanks to their anatomy.

Now that the sociology lesson is over, perhaps we can continue with the story.

“Wynn, wait here. I’ll be fine without you, this city’s not as dangerous as they say.” Noreen spoke more to herself than her companion

She patted the unicorn on the shoulder, pulled up the hood of her cloak and walked from the safe covering of the forest towards the large, foreboding walls of Kratom.

As she approached the city, the anxiety in her stomach grew. The looming walls did nothing to assuage her fears. A human in Kratom is surely to gain attention, something she did well. And yet she noticed none of it, too wrapped in her own mind and thoughts.

She was oblivious to her surroundings until she reached the middle ring. Kratom is traversed rather quickly, considering the entrance gates to each ring are lined up with the last. When the gates to the middle rig swung open, Noreen was blinded by the streets and ornaments of gold. The stone buildings were a tired, dull beige, easily ignored for the streets lined by day stars and paths of sunlight. She found herself distracted by the glitzy surroundings, her anxiety forgotten. She remained oblivious to the stares of the citizens. She paused by the fountain in the center of the circle. Like the walls and buildings, it too was made of stone, with flecks of gold spread throughout it and its water almost artificially blue. She stood there in awe until the unusual silence of the busy street was broken by the sound of falling coins. This was enough to break her out of her trance and refocus her on her mission… at least for now.

However, upon entering the upper ring her attention was once again stolen by her surroundings. Here, even the buildings were made of gold… or perhaps they were merely covered by gold plating. Even the people were covered in gold. The inhabitants of this ring looked quite different than the bipedal creatures Noreen had passed earlier: they had the lower bodies of their respective species, but with a human-esque torso and face (with the exception of the reptilians, who visibly earn their name). An obvious show to the racial inequality of Kratom. The thought of someone being lesser for their appearance was something foreign to most of Evel. With this thought in mind, Noreen made her way to the palace.

The palace of Kratom was the most beautiful part of the city and as such was always open to foreigners. The palace, instead of beige, was a cool grey to more bring out the warm gold that covered most of it. After entering the large gates of the palace instead of being captivated by the large ceilings painted blue, white, and gold, or perhaps the statues carved in marble of previous rulers. Noreen’s attention was instead captured by her target: Sistrine, the ruler of Kratom. She increased her pace. The guards, now on high alert, reached for their weapons. Before they could do anything, she closed the distance to her target and held a knife to the brown snake’s throat, pinning them in place. Her hood fell off and the snake’s hood flared out. The guards made to attack, but Sistrine stopped them by calmly lifting a hand.

“Child princess, you would not hurt your dear sweet mother, would you?”

However, Noreen simply gritted her teeth in rage and pushed the dagger further into their throat.

“Try me”

The snake’s glamour disappeared. “What stops me from alerting the guards or simply crushing you myself?”

“You’ll be dead before you can try. Besides, cobras don’t constrict.”

“All snakes can, my dear. But so be it. Why do you intrude? What do you wish of me?”

“Information. There’s something I desperately need to know.”

“I’m not a mind reader, darling”

Noreen tensed at the pet name.

“What was the role of demons in The Great War?”

Sistrine looked amused. “You of all people should know that… Considering who your mother is.”

Noreen growled and pushed her dagger ever further into the throat of the snake, tears coming to her eyes, before she came to her senses and bolted.

  Upon leaving Kratom, Noreen had an eerie feeling she was being watched. It wasn’t until she reached Wynn that the culprit revealed themselves. They were a lower-class Kratoman—Serpentes? Reptilian? It is rather hard to tell with the lower classes. Either way, they were tall, with human-like facial features and green scales. Their manner in approaching Noreen was rather happy, maybe even excited.

“Human!”

Noreen audibly groaned at the delay.

“Yes? I’m rather busy”

“Oh, no worries. This will only take all of your time! Um… That was not a threat—“The reassurance did not do much to placate the princess’s unease as the stranger snatched at Wynn’s reins.

Noreen reached into her cloak to retrieve her dagger. “Speak fast”

“Right! Right! See, I overheard your conversation with the queen, and—“

“I thought your class wasn’t allowed to be in the throne room?”

“Oh, we aren’t. Anyway, it sound like you’re going to be doing a lot of traveling, and I want in.”

“It’s going to be dangerous, can you even protect yourself? Other than that how should I trust a stranger at my back? Let alone a Reptilian?”

“No. You’re going to have a lot of strangers. Also I’m a Serpentes, not a Reptilian. Which probably isn’t any better in your eyes, but I’m harmless, not a venomous species.”

“Right… Since I’m in a hurry and you have my unicorn’s reins, I’m assuming it’s easier to just let you come along, as long as you wear this.”

She handed over her cloak, then mounted the unicorn and slid back a little in an attempt to make room for the stranger.

“Of course! Thank you! But first, human, do you have a name?” The stranger did not move nor let go of the reins.

“Noreen”

“Okay, Nora! Well, I’m Sapa!” Sapa made a move to get on the unicorn.

“It’s Noreen, actually.”

“Nora?”

“Noreen.”

“Nora?”

“You know what? Fine.”

After this brief name exchange, Sapa was on the unicorn and Nora was adjusting them to sit side-saddle, with both of their legs over one side. The seating arrangement was rather uncomfortable, but with a unicorn it would be a rather short ride. Though a stray thought did make its way to Nora’s mind, that Sapa’s scales were surprisingly soft.

A few minutes into the ride, Sapa spoke up.

“So… Where are we going?”

“I’m taking Wynn back to the stables.”

“Then we can just finish your mission right then?”

“No, there’s still a lot of things I still don’t know and it would be a rather large risk I’m not willing to take. If I’m wrong I could end Echinacea.”

“But it takes weeks to get to Echinacea from here, on top of that you’re planning on traveling more?”

Nora leaned forward and grabbed onto Sapa as Wynn jumped a fallen tree, causing Sapa to let out a delighted giggle.

“On a unicorn it should only take a few hours.”

“A few hour!?” Sapa yelled in surprise

Nora gritted her teeth. “Yes, when we get there I want you to keep the cloak wrapped tight.”

“Hate to tell you, but I’m quite taller than you, and my feet look incredibly different. I am assuming, at least—I have not seen your feet, nor do I wish too”

“We’re not getting close to the castle, so it’s only if people see you from afar.”

“Even so, from a distance I’d be able to tell a human from a serpentes. After all, I noticed you among the townspeople earlier… Granted if you were Serpentes, you definitely were not supposed to be where you were.”

“Humor me,” Nora huffed

As stated, a few hours into the ride they saw the corral. Nora once more leaned forward and grabbed Sapa while Wynn jumped the fence and came to an abrupt stop. Nora gently nudged Sapa to dismount, then followed suit.

“What now?” Sapa inquired

“Since I had us Jump near the obstacle corral, first thing we do is move the tack there.” Nora started undoing the saddle buckles. “Preferably, you would take the saddle and I would take the blanket and bridle.”

“Why”

Nora stopped on the question for a while, trying to decipher what it meant. In the end she decided to answer both question she thought could be asked, and handed the saddle to Sapa, who took it.

“So they don’t notice I took Wynn, if they haven’t already. And because the saddle is heavy, and you’re likely stronger than me.”

Having finished taking off the tack, Nora started to walk towards the tack rack, motioning for Sapa to follow. Then Sapa turned to Nora.

“Now what?”

Nora sighed. “Now we jump the fence back into the woods and, since the corral is large, hope no one saw us.”

They started walking towards the outer fence.

“That’s it? No provisions? No nothing?”

“I have survival skills.”

“Have you ever had to use them?”

Nora ignored the question and pulled herself up and over the fence.

“I can tell you right now princess, survival isn’t fun.” Sapa scrambled over the fence to catch up.

“I’m not looking for fun.”

“Okay… Do you at least have an idea on where to go?”

“Ginko, Velvet Leaf, Hyssop, Tulsi, Burdock, and then Mallow.”

“Huh? Mallow’s the closest. Why aren’t we going there first?”

“It would be easier to go back to the other side of Evel and then come back, rather than starting closest, going furthest, and then returning.”

“I see… Next question: You’re human, but none of those are alliance countries. Why not? Would a human not seek aid from them first?”

“The problems I seek pertain to my mother. Should we go to alliance country, they would no doubt tell, which would put my life in danger.”

“Why would your life be in danger?”

“That’s a rather personal question, I’d rather not speak on it. Speaking of personal questions though, it’s rather hard to determine your… gender.”

“Ahaha—ah well, that’s incredibly personal, and not something Serpentes share freely… unless you’re trying to bed me?”

Nora cringed and cleared her throat.

“Back to the topic of alliance countries… They’re not really a country, but we might have luck with the elementals.”

“The elemental? No one has luck with them. I mean they don’t die and aren’t really involved in the world too much. I think the only reason the joined the alliance was to protect their forest, right? Not even for themselves, but for the animals they live beside.”

“Normally, you’d be correct. However, one of my dear friends is an elemental.”

“You’re friends with an elemental?!”

“Yes…” Nora said gritting her teeth.

“How does that happen?”

“They basically raised me. I do not know their intentions, though.”

“I’m not one to speak on parents, but that’s unusual for humans, yes? I mean being raised by someone other than a parent, much less an elemental.”

‘No, plenty of people have nannies or wet nurses.”

“What of the common people?”

“I do not know, they tend to have large families. I can’t imagine only two are parents. Could we perhaps travel in silence? At least until we get to the tavern?”

“Sure, after one more thing. Tavern?”

“There’s a tavern rather close to Echinacea run by ogres and wood sprites.”

“An interesting combination—oh, wait, I promised silence.”

They reached the tavern around sunset. The tavern itself was a basic wooden building, but huge. And as for the trip, it was mostly in the promised silence. Though not being able to expend energy on talking made Sapa restless. As they walked, they made sure Nora remained in sight. But, needing to occupy themself, they walked all over, looking at things, bouncing in place—then doing a little jog to catch up with Nora. That was how most of the trip went. For Nora, it was almost as bad as putting up with talking. For Sapa, it was torture.

When the two companions made it to the door, Nora turned to Sapa. The sound of her voice after so many hours of silence surprised the Serpentes.

“Just a tip—you’ll have better conversations with the ogres than the sprites.” She suggests in warning knowing Sapa’s over eagerness for conversation.

“Aren’t sprites supposed to be nicer than man-eating ogres?”

“Stereotypically, maybe.”

Sapa thought for a moment. “And yet your views on serpentes—“

“I’ve known many ogres and sprites. I’ve never known a good Serpentes.”

“Have you known any?”

She did not answer. Instead she pushed open the heavy door and walked inside. The tavern interior—much like the outside—was large, spacious. For perspective, the bar was so huge an average sized human could barely get their head over it. Luckily, Nora was rather tall, and the counter came up to her collarbones. Sapa, on the other hand, has no issues seeing over the counter as it only came up to their chest. The oversized furniture, however, fit the oversized proprietors of the tavern. The ogres—burly, and about three heads taller than Nora. The willow sprites—thin willowy, and even taller than the ogres.

“Noreen!” An ogre behind the counter yelled in greeting.

“Dimitrios!” Nora yelled back, flinging her arms out for a hug. The ogre jumped the bar, gaining glares from the sprites behind the bar, and lifted her into a cheerful hug.

“Um, Introductions… perhaps?” Sapa asked shifting their weight.

Nora waved her hand toward Dimitrios.

“This, as you’ve likely gathered, is Dimitrios. He introduced me to this place.’

He, in turn, put his hand on his hip and waved heartily, His clothes were a mismatch of leather, and he had a fish tattoo on his left shoulder. His skin was pale and sunburnt, his hair was long, thin, and dark. His eyes brown.

She then gestured to the two sprites behind the bar counter. Sprites are creatures made of wood and the magic of the earth. Their bodies made of vines of, in this case, willow wood. On their head grows leaves, once again in this case, willow leaves. Their eyes are, seemingly, balls of light. However, their eyes don’t glow.

“Beata and Dionysia—they got married last spring.” The willow sprites glanced at each other, then waved. Beata kept her leaves braided, and Dionysia had flowers in hers.

She jutted her thumb at the ogre and sprite in the corner. The ogre was sitting, rather reclining in a chair. The sprite was leaning over him, a knife stabbed into the table, seemingly threating the ogre.

“Sybilla and Yannis. Sybilla is Beata and Dionysia’s child. Yannis is Dimitrios’ life partner.”

Sybilla stood taller and glared, her leaves were a lavender color. Yannis looked over his shoulder and waved. Like Dimitrios, he wore a mismatched leather clothing and had sheaves of wheat tattooed on his right shoulder.

Dimitrios brings attention to himself by clapping.

“So, what brings you here? And with such company?”

“We wish to rent to room. I assume this should cover it.” She turned to Sapa and pried the green gem out of its clasp.

“I assume it shall,” called Beata from across the room.

“All rooms are available, here’s the keys to the closest. Rest up well, you look horrible.” Dionysia was all business, as usual.

“Thanks…” Nora walked up to the counter and grabbed the keys.

“Let’s go,” she said to Sapa.

They both walk up the stairs to a large hallway of doors.

“So, these are your so—called survival skills?” Sapa inquired.

“Not the ones I was referring to, but connections are a good survival skill, I think.”

They part at their separate doors.

“Are you going to be okay?” Sapa asked, genuinely worried for the naive princess.

“I’m fine.” She replies on a bit too heavy a breath, “There’s not much to be worried about, I do have a bit of a plan.”

Without elaborating, she walked into her room and lay on the stiff bed. The strength and complexity of her emotions could do all except bring tears to her eyes. The heart-wrenching sorrow, the searing anger, the confusion, and yet she could not cry… was she broken? Eventually, she drifted off, exhausted from travel and thought.

[hecohansen31]

Maybe In The Next Lifetime

Reincarnated! Ivar The Boneless+Reincarnated! Reader (Modern AU)

(Previous Chapter)

(A/N): Hello there, lovelies!

I am sorry it took me so long but this is a small reward to @youbloodymadgenius​,who bought me a Ko-Fi, a bit of time ago and I just am so so grateful for this small gesture because it shows that you truly care about us, writers.

It truly means the absolute world to me and I don’t think that I’ll ever be able to properly express my gratitude through words, but I do hope that you’ll like this (you gave me the green light for everything that came up to my mind, so since i saw that you all liked the first part, here comes the second).

If you want more, please do let me know through a comment or a reblog (PLEASE DON’T FUCKING REBLOG WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING... IT’S FUCKING STUPID).

Do leave some feedback if you want to: it makes us, writers, write faster and our hearts beat stronger.

Have a nice reading!

SUMMARY: Visions have accompanied your staying in Iceland, tainting your experience and making you meet the literal 'man of your dreams', but is this a crazed fever dream or is this the truth?

WORDS: 4,7 K

WARNINGS: Reincarnation Cycle, Menton of Violence and Blood, Inaccurate Portrayal of Iceland.

You changed your outfit for the umpteenth time, wondering if there was anything that would ever fit the theme of Midsomar, allowing you to show off your body, in a way that was flattering and proper.

Your friend, Hedda, had already chosen an outfit and was waiting outside of your shared bedroom at the small apartment you had rented for your staying in Iceland, singing out loud some Swedish song and refusing to give you any help with dressing up.

‘You need to find your inner “Midsomar” ‘ she had muttered after you had gotten out of your wardrobe in a bland floral dress ‘… but also you gotta impress that idiotic guy, you met, so… get out your best Maja’.

‘I don’t think that being a crazy witch in a cult will win me many points with any boy’ you had shot back, eventually completely ignoring her suggestions, trying on at first a few other dresses, and eventually settling up on an oversized white shirt in a pair of your best shorts.

The flower crown you had bought in a Chinese shop, already awaiting you in bed, and as you pushed it onto your head, the vision reappeared.

You had been having visions since the start of your staying in Iceland.

At first you had though they were simply strange dreams, created by your first holiday without your parents and far away from home.

They were different visions of different beautiful girls in clothes from different historical ages, but they all had one thing in common.

Your face.

And then when you had at first noticed Ivar, his own face had haunted your dreams.

As a king, as a slave, as a commander, in a haunt that reversed the roles.

Sometimes you’d be the prey and sometimes he’d be the hunter, and sometimes the opposite would happen.

In the mirror various figures shifted: a meek girl with a flower crown like yours, a well-dressed woman, her face hidden by a thick veil and the heavy crown on her head, again appearing in a more frail way on a woman with a spoiled smirk and expecting eyes.

But you knew that deep down they were all you.

And you were desperately trying to understand what this all truly meant.

You had eventually settled on browsing through some rather confusing pages about the interpretation of dreams, settling yourself up in the ‘reincarnation aisle’ discovering that many in forums thought that in dreams, they could see their past lives.

Or so they believed.

But in most cases, it was boring details that could be easily overlooked and most of the time they were interpreted by clairvoyants that wanted nothing more than to make their daily earn.

And you couldn’t blame them.

But your situation wasn’t a hoax.

Because there was so much confusion in your heart and mind.

And you knew it was a downright wrong thing to follow Ivar around, just because he was the literal ‘man of your dreams’.

And you knew that you would have probably ended up sounding as a crazed hysterical woman, had you confessed him that you had been dreaming about him for your entire staying in Iceland, seeing him in various outfits.

But one thing never changed also for him.

He had loved you and he had lost you.

Never the other way around.

Which you found lightly discriminatory and sexist…

… but Fate didn’t welcome any complaints, did He?

You wished you could talk about it with someone, but not only you didn’t know that well the few friends you had done around the hotel and in the city.

But also… who would have believed you?

And who wouldn’t have wanted to intern you in the nearest psych-ward, after hearing about your crazy dreams?

But this secret was burning you on the inside, completely ruining your holiday there, because you weren’t able, not only to sleep properly, but the knowledge of some previous past life was shaking your beliefs to the core.

And not in a good way.

You almost doubted the reality around you.

And more than one time you had found yourself pinching your arms in search of some signs that you hadn’t simply dreamt also this life.

“… are you fucking finished?” muttered loudly Hedda, startling and effectively reminding you that you were indeed in 2019, getting yourself ready for a Midsomar ‘date’ (because Ivar certainly hadn’t meant it that way, when you had basically invited yourself in it).

“Yeah yeah!” you shot back, slightly annoyed at her antics but eventually settling up on adjusting the flower crown on your head, as you grabbed your clutch, stuffing an extra charger for your phone and headphones in it.

And then appeared in the hallway of your room, for Hedda’s inspection, who told you to turn around, meanwhile she examined attentively your outfit, eventually holding up eight fingers, which was enough to make it pass.

‘… cute but have we forgotten the “sexy factor”?’ commented Hedda, as you were already grabbing a jeans jacket in case it ended up being colder.

You had agreed with Ivar on meeting each other for lunch and then move to a little place where a small folklore festival was to be held.

And had you had a bit of energy, you would join your friends for the night to a ‘Midsomar’ themed party, for which you weren’t too eager, but your friends had already seemed offended by the fact that you wouldn’t have passed the day with them, partying and drinking.

But you wanted the true Icelandic experience.

That was why you had moved there.

And honestly partying and drinking could be done everywhere.

Instead what Ivar had told you that he had planned that day was much more typical of the place and not something that you’d have found everywhere.

And having more time to spend with the ‘man of your dreams’ was definitely a bonus.

Hedda, who, although seemed extremely superficial, had assumed an extremely motherly and protective role over you, had wanted to accompany you, although she had used the excuse that:

‘Booze doesn’t affect me that much, anymore’ she had then winked your way ‘… and didn’t you say that Ivar has a cute brother?’.

You had barely seen Ivar’s brother, but you had felt like you had to give something to Hedda for ‘sacrificing’ herself for you.

Meanwhile you were getting out of your small apartment, making sure to lock after yourself, since Hedda always forgot, you received a message from Ivar, letting you know that they had just arrived to his uncle’s barn, sending you his location and reassuring you to take your time, since they had arrived early to help with the preparations.

You had thanked him, meanwhile you were thoroughly panicking because you didn’t want to arrive late, but to dissuade the uncomfortableness of the entire situation, you asked him ‘whether his brother was hot or not’.

Which you realized a minute after locking the door didn’t sound quite alright.

Shit.

You hoped that at least in one of the previous lives you hadn’t been this awkward.

‘.. for a friend’ you added, hoping he didn’t think you wanted to flirt with his brother.

Because you didn’t want to, for sure.

Although Destiny had indeed pushed you closer, you couldn’t deny that you had found yourself comfortable with Ivar in a way that hadn’t happened in so much with the few guys you had tried out a date with.

And it truly made you feel like this was real.

Like that was your reality.

He was clearly much shier than you were used to, but this didn’t mean that he hadn’t a sarcastically cocky side that had brought you to tears with laughter and judgement.

And it made you feel comfortable and at ease.

As if only with him you could be the true you.

And not the long line of previous reincarnations you had been.

‘… my brother does consider himself hot’ he sent you ‘… hot if you like brainless dudes who will do nothing but eat and drink’.

‘That’s Hedda’s perfect type’ you sent back, careful to avoid breaking your neck on the stairs, Hedda thankfully coming to your side to guide you meanwhile you messaged.

“I do hope that he is worth it” commented your friend, trying to sneak a small look at your conversation “… because those shoes certainly aren’t made for texting and walking”.

“His brother is hot” you were simply able to reply in the general confusion.

“Did you ask him?” shot back Hedda, facepalming as she completely stopped you from slamming your face on an unseen step “… you seriously… you better hope that that guy is in for it…”.

“Don’t make me feel worse than I am already feeling!” you protested loudly “… he is hotter than his hot brother, so do pray for me instead”.

“… you’ll need a miracle” she protested, but did make you arrive at the end of the stairs safe and sound, and then took your phone, throwing it in her bigger bag, as you complained loudly “… and no you are driving, so no phone, neither for the hot guy”.

“Always the responsible ones…” you muttered, knowing that it wasn’t the truth in the slightest “… just let me tell him that we’ll reach them in a quarter hour”.

Hedda simply sent you an annoyed look, before relenting as she got in the car you had rented for the occasion.

“… I wouldn’t have pegged you as one of those who is constantly texting her boyfriend” she muttered, lowering the car windows and you quickly typed in your message, waiting a few second for a simple ‘ok’ from Ivar.

Were you panicking?

A bit.

But you’d be fine.

Or he’d realize that you were seriously a stalker had you talked with him anymore.

And then Hedda reminded you of her as she sounded the car horn, effectively startling you away from your anxious brain.

And after all, the faster you got the car started, the faster you’d see him again.

You tried to convince yourself that wasn’t a comp6letely creepy thought.

---

You had been able not to lose yourselves on the trip to Ivar’s uncle’s barn, which had been a great way to certainly hype you up.

Hedda’s awful choice in music had done the rest.

But now you honestly didn’t want to get out of the car.

“Please don’t make me spray you with water” commented Hedda between her teeth, as she adjusted her blush and her own flower crown and you nervously curled a strand of hair between your fingers.

“… just give a minute”.

And she did, moving to lightly check some messages on her own phone, meanwhile you eased up in the place where you had parked, which was supposed to be a few minutes away from Ivar’s uncle’s barn.

In the middle of basically nowhere.

Hedda had joked about the fact that you had seriously ended up in ‘Midsomar’ and would be soon sacrificed, much to your already panicking soul, as you tried to search in yourself some willingness to meet again Ivar.

It wasn’t the simple nervousness of finally seeing the guy you had a crush on.

It was a multilayered feeling of fear and anxiety that had gone on for many years, as your lives were threaded together and separated by Fate.

And you didn’t know how to calm yourself.

In the end Hedda did spray a bit of water on your face, bringing you back from your historical thought, as you finally realized that you couldn’t let past history influence your present.

Although you didn’t know how to do that.

“Is everything alright?” asked Hedda as you moved away from the parking lot towards the small house, walking slow so that you could arrive there comfortably “… are you sure that this guy isn’t a psycho?”.

‘I am actually the psycho, with all these dreams of a past that maybe never existed between us’ you wanted to say, but simply shook your head, yawning lightly, because you had been up till late last night for your last turn at the hotel.

And you tried to keep your mind on the hotel’s turns that you’d have to restart tomorrow, to keep your mind in the present you were living.

Which worked well…

… till you arrived to the house and you found Ivar already out, helping up with setting in place what looked like a small gazebo, to protect you from the sun, meanwhile another boy set up a small plastic table under it.

And you wanted to turn and run away.

What had you been thinking when you had basically invited yourself to what looked like a reserved family ceremony?

Did you seriously think it was a good idea?

But before you could make a complete U-turn with your body, you heard your name being called out by a slight Nordic accent and as you turned around, your reality had changed inevitably.

No matter how much you tried to bring back your annoying turns at the hotel.

“… Ivar” the words left your mouth, although it felt like it had just been forced open, no matter how much you didn’t want to say those words.

His eyes smiled gently at you, as he walked to you, his clothes weren’t modern anymore, but they were an hard armor of leather, constricting him in a way that pushed his whole body to appear bigger than he was.

Relief flooded in you, as you faced him again, the knowledge of him having come back to you completely making you emotional, although you stopped yourself to wait for him to come to you again.

Your vision was disrupted by Hedda’s nails digging themselves in your upper arm, and when you batted your eyelashes, the entire set up you had imagined was gone.

Although Ivar was very much in front of you.

And looked like he had asked you something.

“I am sorry, I didn’t…” Gosh… he must have thought you were a weirdo for sure.

“… I just said that I am glad that you are finally here” his words were truly genuine as a softer smile appeared on his face “… and that you found us so easily”.

“I am a wonderful GPS” commented Hedda, noticing that you were having quite the trouble replying and more generally at talking “… I am Hedda, by the way”.

Ivar looked wary of Hedda but didn’t say anything, and his brother seemed quite taken by her appearance and he pushed himself up from the place where he had sat down, presenting himself to her.

And from the gleaming bits in Hedda’s eyes, you knew that he was hot enough.

And you were soon left with Ivar.

Gosh, could you embarrass yourself more.

Probably… yes.

You almost wanted to plead Hedda with your eyes to stay with you, but at the same time you completely understood she wasn’t your babysitter in any way.

“… so that is why you asked me if my brother was hot” simply commented Ivar, and although you blushed profusely at that knowledge, you felt like he had just shattered the wall of awkwardness between you.

“Hedda needs to have her own fun” you muttered “… mostly because she is a bitch whenever she doesn’t get enough attention”.

Ivar laughed loudly, and when you had both calmed down, you moved to ask if you could do something to help him.

And he redirected you around the gazebo to set it up, as he revealed to you that his uncle would be away for the day.

He was extremely blushy the whole time he said it, and you were a properly matching tomato.

‘… he said that he is too old to for these things” he commented softly ‘… he went fishing and will be back by nigh-time’.

‘Still it was very generous of him to offer us his place to stay’ you tried to make your words appear gentle and kind, although you couldn’t deny that you again felt a bit embarrassed by the whole situation.

Two guys and two girls with a small private barn all to themselves.

Hedda would have called you a stupid not to think that this was an entire trick to get you to stay closer to Ivar.

But Ivar’s words seemed honest in what he had said.

And yet it didn’t lessen your embarrassment.

And neither your knowledge that this had happened before.

A picture perfect in your mind of a ’70-fashioned yourself, sleeping with your head against Ivar’s, meanwhile a lazy fire crackled beside you, light giggle and breathy moans from the other couple with you, who had been much more courageous than you two.

Because although you had been on the road for quite some time, you hadn’t been able to do much more than simply stand closer.

“… he hasn’t been the same since his wife died” commented Ivar, his voice lowering itself slightly and bringing you back to the reality.

Not the peaceful and nightly one you had seen in your mind.

You should have taken some medicine for these hallucinations.

And got a whole check-up once you were home.

Although you weren’t sure you wanted them to disappear.

The knowledge that you had been able to score a guy like Ivar in past lives certainly stroked your ego.

“I am sorry to hear that” you replied softly, another memory in your mind, an angry Ivar, nothing peaceful in the way he threw things all around the room and screamed, but then after all the air in his lungs had disappeared he had searched you, shielding himself in your chest, meanwhile he let out all the emotions he had been denying to feel.

“… thank you” his words were honest now as they had been there “… but on better topics, the place we are going after should be good, my brother has never played there so that is a sign of true quality”.

You laughed softly at his comment, meanwhile he kept a straight face but eventually cracked up a small smirk.

“Please don’t tell me it is this brother” you muttered, pointing to Hvitserk, who had been trying to show Hedda a magic trick, involving his abs, thing that had made Hedda very much interested.

(In the abs)

(Not the magic trick. That was pathetic).

“… she’ll make him ask to play her a song, record him and play it till she gets bored with it, and I already think her taste in music his problematic”.

Ivar laughed at your sassy comment, as you managed to finally settle up the gazebo, sitting in the grass to stare at your marvelous work.

“… no not this one” he commented, shooting you a conspiratorial look that made you laugh loudly “… another of my many brothers… Sigurd, the one that I can’t stand”.

“I thought you couldn’t stand all of them”.

But the name Sigurd brought something back to you.

Something dreadful that your subconscious tried to keep locked away and again you pinched yourself to avoid deepening up.

You had seen yourself dying in horrendous way each night.

Once you had been shot, another time an overdose had taken you and the most horrendous had been when a sword had pierced your back.

You had woken up with the feeling of it, screaming loudly as you groped your chest sure to find iron and blood in it.

But it had been just a nightmare.

And yet each time you died you had this knowledge that this had happened.

That it had been painful.

And that it hadn’t been fair.

And what was linked to the name ‘Sigurd’ seemed much worse than that.

Ivar felt the shift in you and you were grateful when he suggested he went inside and started to bring a few starters and drinks outside, since you had to admit that you were quite famished.

And so was his brother.

Hounding him almost like a dog, as you laughed softly at the image.

Having seen it thousands of times happening.

And yet it still hanged in your mind as if it was new.

Hedda took this moment to come to you, muttering about how dreamily Ivar’s brother, Hvitserk, was.

‘… and Ivar does seem to be quite taken by you…’ she commented, shooting you a knowing look ‘… and you seemed a bit taken by the gazebo, I’ll admit it’.

You pushed her away with your shoulder, although you couldn’t deny that.

And you were glad in the following moments to be able to simply think about food.

You thanked profusely Ivar when you realized that the meals he had gotten ready were some Icelandic ones that you hadn’t tried yet, mixed with some other typical dishes, and you were honestly impressed.

‘Oh, don’t worry, Hvitserk over here is the one who cooked everything’ he commented, shooting a quick look at his brother, meanwhile Hedda let out a breathy ‘oh seriously?’.

And you and Ivar laughed of those two idiots.

Again, that natural complicity sparkling up between you, as you talked with each other.

It just felt so comfortable and natural that you couldn’t help but confess him your ‘darkest’ and ‘deepest’ secrets, as he did the same of you, both laid out in the sun, after lunch, staring up at the it, barely shielding yourself from it with your hands.

You joked and you laughed.

And it almost felt like you hadn’t lost anything in your previous life.

As if nothing existed except you and him, in that moment.

But your soul was growing restless.

Almost as if it expected something bad to happen.

Because history had a tendency to repeat itself.

And your soul knew it all too well.

So, you were secretly happy when you moved into a crowd for the musical festival, glad to be able to move yourself among many people, the music completely blaring your mind in a calm state that brought you to definitely enjoy the moment.

And so, seemed Hedda.

You had also had special places, because of Ivar’s disability, standing in the front, meanwhile various bands of various musical genres moved onto stage, alternating themselves, between applauses and ‘boo’s, making you definitely feel like this was an unlike ‘Midsomar’.

But soon it got a bit too much for you and Ivar, the man almost reading your mind (which scared you, because your mind wasn’t a nice place in that moment) and you both suggested going for a round of cold drinks.

Hedda and Hvitserk carrying their orders on you, taking great advantage as you muttered softly in protest, Ivar matching your harsh glare, but you both laughed it off, moving to the small bar set up there, the crowd making it again a wonderful occasion to make small talk with Ivar.

But you couldn’t deny that every talk with him wasn’t simply ‘small talk’.

Although you knew that Hvitserk and Hedda were waiting for you to come back, you still decided to set yourself up in the deserted tables next to the small bar, since everyone was dancing in the crowd, but you were able to still enjoy the music.

Even better with nobody sweating against you.

The lady that brought you your drinks smirked softly at you and said something in Icelandic that you couldn’t quite catch but simply smirked at her, meanwhile Ivar blushed bright red.

‘What did she say?’ you asked, twirling your orange juice in its glass, meanwhile Ivar looked like he might choke on his own beer.

‘… she muttered something about… us being a cute couple’.

This time you basically spluttered the orange juice in his face.

Blushing even harder because of that.

‘… oh’ you simply were able to retort.

‘Oh, indeed’ he repeated, with some kind of bitter embarrassment to it.

And suddenly you were feeling deeply uncomfortable.

Unsure of whether you had said the right thing or not.

And the painful knowledge of your past hanging on you.

An awkward silence fell onto you heavily and you didn’t know what to say and you didn’t want to go back, because Hedda wouldn’t be much helpful since she had set her sights on Hvitserk and she’d have his number for sure, by the end of the night…

… if not something else.

In the end, Hvitserk and Hedda came looking up for you, joining you to drink, something that certainly made you feel definitely better, a bit less awkward, as you leaned on Hedda, almost shying away to her side.

And Ivar did the same with Hvitserk.

In the end you managed to eventually talk with Hvitserk, but awkwardness had again created a wall between you, two…

… a wall that had to be shredded, because Hedda had come up with a dangerous idea.

‘Why don’t you and Ivar spend the night together?’ she suggested, and again you were a tomato ‘… I mean… you could stay over there, since Hvitserk and I were thinking of partying a bit more and I know that you don’t like it. And I feel bad in making you stay alone…’

Other than the fact that she had basically invited yourself in her house, you didn’t think that it was a good idea, and told her so, insisting that Ivar’s uncle would be soon back.

‘… then you can stay for a bit and then go back’ it was obvious that both she and Hvitserk were playing matchmakers.

And you and Ivar didn’t feel like it, in the slightest.

You had already Fate pushing you up close.

That was enough.

You insisted with Hedda that you didn’t want to be of any bother to Ivar, and she insisted back that it wasn’t good to leave you coming back alone.

And although Ivar didn’t seem the type to be guilt-tripped into doing anything, he eventually agreed, although he told you that he’d have to see with his uncle if you could stay over for the night.

‘… oh no no, don’t worry!’ you tried to protest, already feeling like a useless baggage ‘… I’ll just go back before it is too late, I mean… it is still pretty sunny’.

But your mutter had gone unnoticed and after another round in the crowd, the concert had stopped, setting up a more commercial DJ sets, as you went back with Hvitserk’s car, the one to which you were gone to the concert, an hour away from the barn.

Back at the barn, the situation with Ivar hadn’t become better and another flashback had developed in your mind.

An annoying ride of carriage, because you knew that somehow Ivar was angry with you and you should have been angry with him, but at the same time you were damnably worried for him.

And you had reached out for him.

Finding the same gesture replied in the future.

And you were glad you had chosen to leave Ivar take the front seat, meanwhile you had simply reached out for Hedda’s hands, who sent you a look, as if to check whether you had inhaled some passive ‘smoke’ from the crowd of the festival.

You wished.

And when you arrived to the place you and Ivar basically were barely able to get out of the car, before Hedda and Hvitserk sprinted off, effectively leaving you stranded.

“Shit” muttered Ivar under his breath and you couldn’t have expressed better your thoughts, as you faced him, and all his previous reincarnations appeared in front of you.

A Viking warrior, a merchant, a lord.

And then you, bloodied and lost.

You shifted your head away from him, focusing it on your dirtied converse shoes.

“… if you want, we can go inside” he proposed eventually his tone settling up on a defeated tone “… nothing too much to see, but we might have beer…”.

“… have to drive” you reminded him.

“… and whatever you might want to drink with no alcohol” he commented, something almost comical in his words “… which is a sad choice, I’ll admit”.

“I am used to it” you shot back with a slight smirk “… does Hedda seem the type to be trusted behind a car wheel?”.

“You do make an excellent point”.

And then you dived inside, the small barn, being quite welcoming and quite comforting, definitely something that made you remember of home, as you noticed the small figurines draping and decorating elegantly the main hall.

Ivar saw that they had caught your eyes.

And not solely because they were beautiful.

But you had seen them in your dreams.

And then you felt like you had a heavy stone on your lungs, and you had to free yourself from it.

“Ivar, I have a thing to tell you”.

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[sirrriusblack]

Okay so even though nobody asked. I’ve been thinking about the whole anti-Snape situation and I just wanted to state my opinion even though, again, nobody asked.

So I don’t like Snape. I don’t think he was a good person and I’m sorry if anyone disagrees with me, feel free to explain why you think he is if you’d like. Honestly, I’m always up for a (friendly) discussion. But anyway, from what I’ve seen, most people that do like Snape justify his actions and why he was rude to Harry by talking about The Marauders, specifically James, and how they bullied him.

So it’s canon that James was a dick. I get that. The Marauders liked to play pranks and cause chaos, and they were kinda dicks. That’s fair. And note here that I don’t in any way condone bullying or abuse or the like. Anyway, it’s also canon that Severus would start fights with them first as well, and that may have been a result of their bullying, and I’m not justifying any bullying with ‘he started it’. That’s not what I’m trying to do. All I’m saying is we know that both James (and The Marauders) and Severus were known for starting fights or the like. Snape was also known to be hanging around a group of racist dicks basically. He thought it was okay to call Lily a mudblood and I understand there’s a difference in actually thinking something and accidentally blurting it out, otherwise I would hate Sirius for telling Snape about Remus’ condition too. And I don’t.

Yet Snape grew up to join Voldemort’s cause and that can’t be blamed on anything but him, really. It’s often said that you should compare Sirius and Severus. Sirius certainly could have been dragged into the wrong side with all the pressure from his family, with everything he’d learnt growing up. If he hadn’t had his friends to keep him in line, he might have. Most people then say that Snape didn’t have that guidance and he got pulled into the dark arts and etc. But he had Lily, didn’t he? It’s canon that Lily disapproved of Snape’s friends and was always trying to steer him away from the dark arts. She still hung out with him and was his friend despite what her Gryffindor friends thought of him. She stuck by him, as any good friend would do, and he stuck by her, but he didn’t take her advice. That’s the biggest difference between Sirius’ and Snape’s future; Snape didn’t take his friends’ advice, and no one is to blame there but him, really.

With that in mind, I don’t think we can say who was better or worse. Because Snape was a victim of bullying, yes, but if he did the same to The Marauders, doesn’t that make them victims too? I don’t like saying that anyway, because really, it was a four against one situation (or at least two against one from what we’ve seen). Honestly, we don’t know how often they fought, who started more fights, what their reasoning was or anything, because we can’t know enough about the situation. So I’m not going to come out here and say The Marauders were perfect, or even better than Snape. No one’s perfect and we should definitely recognise what The Marauders and what Snape did was wrong. I’m definitely not trying to excuse James’ actions by the bad things Snape did to him or the other way around. So let’s just look at them without the war, without different sides, without Lily and everything. Let’s just look at them as two teenage boys. James was a dick. Lily was right in calling him an arrogant toe-rag. He was egotistical too, what with being popular and rich and an only child. (Again, not that I’m not saying this to excuse his actions.) Snape was also a dick. He looked down on certain blood types (with the exception of Lily apparently), he was bitter from years growing up with his father and I mean, he literally came up with a spell that slices people open. So we can come to the conclusion, I think, that the boys kinda both sucked. Obviously, I love The Marauders and I recognise that James was an arrogant dick, but I still think he was a great person because the good outweighed the bad. I’m not going into it but I could write a book just about why I think James was a good person. But I also recognise that I can’t say James was a good person despite his faults, if I don’t so the same for Snape. Because, if we boil down to it, even if I don’t necessarily like saying it, I can understand why Snape could be considered a good person. He helped Lily from the start, and was her friend from the start. He defended her against her sister’s hate and the Wizarding World’s hate. He was still friends with her despite what her other friends thought of him because Lily was his best friend. He was smart and ambitious and yes, he put his talents to bad use, but you could say he was a good person as a teenager. My problem isn’t with teenage Snape, however.

Like I said (probably forty times, I’m sorry) I can recognise that Snape wasn’t a horrible person. I can understand why people like him, that’s obviously not my opinion, but I’m not here to hate on other people’s opinions, I’m just here to explain mine. My problem is with adult Snape. His adulthood is very very different to his teenage years because here, the good doesn’t outweigh the bad. Obviously his bullying as a kid would have affected him throughout his whole life, because it’s how he grew up. And it’s not fair to say that James didn’t turn out that way even though Snape supposedly started things with him just as much as he did so to Snape, because James, all in all, had a better life than Snape. So let’s instead look at Remus. Remus Lupin spent his childhood in fear. He had to sit through DADA classes where he was classified as a monster. He had to walk down the halls with people looking at his scars and judging him for them everyday. He had to keep a secret bigger than any secret he knew from his best friends. He had to think about them leaving him because they were scared, and he had to wait and wait and wait for Snape to act out his threat of exposing him. Both Remus’ childhood and adulthood was plastered with hate and threats and fear for something he couldn’t control. Yet Remus was kind. He carried chocolate around to make people feel better, he wanted nothing more than to help children grow by teaching them all he knew. He loved Harry more than anything. Him and Tonks had Teddy and he was scared he was going to hurt them, but he still stuck by because he loved them. Despite all the hate and bitterness he faced from the whole Wizarding World, Remus Lupin was still a kind, wonderful person. Remus also lost all of his best friends. James, Lily and Peter (at least he thought), were dead and Sirius (at least he thought) betrayed him and he was left with absolutely nothing. Yet he was still so full of love and kindness. I can’t personally say the same for Snape. Especially when Snape, as a very mature, very excuse-less adult, told the whole Wizarding World about Remus’ lycanthropy, which in turn got him fired and caused the Anti-Werewolf Legislation, creating more hate, poverty and difficulty for all werewolves. (I could go on, Remus Lupin deserved so much better). And yet Remus, after losing everything he had, once again, still found more love with Tonks and then Teddy.

Yes, Snape faced ridicule and hate and bitterness as a child and during school too. Yes he lost his best friend (*whispers* even though it was his fault) but if Remus could face all the hate he did and still become a great person, if Sirius could ignore all the pressure he was under to join Voldemort, then those can’t be excuses for Snape. You can’t excuse the fact that he joined a hateful, racist, discriminatory side of the war with him being bullied as a child. He chose hate because he lost something he loved. And from then on, he kept choosing hate. I’m sorry, but becoming a death eater and then changing his mind doesn’t create enough good to outweigh the bad. Changing his mind and joining the good side, to me at least, doesn’t make him good. Not when he singled out children, made fun of them, and did exactly what his so-called ‘excuse for his bitterness’ was (bullying) to hurt 11 year old children. And look, someone might prove me wrong, someone might say something that makes me reconsider the situation, but it boils down to one sentence. I can’t justify Snape’s actions if him and The Marauders were all dicks yet The Marauders (minus Peter) turned out to be a good person and Snape turned out to be… well, Snape.

I’m really not trying to start anything, by the way, I’ve just seen a lot of posts about people who don’t like Snape ‘not having any reasons to back their opinions’ and I wanted to share mine. I have a lot more reasons than this, but I feel like those reasons could probably be excused because he was ‘good in the end’. I disagree, but like I said, I don’t want to start anything. I don’t know. I’m probably going to regret posting this.