#or constantly ignoring their agency

[illputdownmyrootswhenimdead]

sorry for continued pjo posting but. man so many people in that fandom are so fucking allergic to people pointing out problems in the books and the fandom lmao

[4lph4kidz]

been pondering this one for a while and i'm not sure where i stand on it myself so i want to know what people think about this, so (assuming there's no good way to represent hal as an artificial intelligence /non-human entity/extension of dirk):

feel free to share thoughts in the tags & replies!

[khruschevshoe]

Being a true galaxy-brained Doctor Who fan is hitting the epiphany that every showrunner had their strengths and their weaknesses and their own interpretations of the Doctor and you can like or dislike any aspect of any showrunner and acknowledge their genuine mistakes/bad choices/yikes decisions (such as racism, sexism, homophobia, questionable undertones, lack of agency for female characters, etc.) and it is COMPLETELY VALID to have that turn you off of a Doctor/showrunner but also acknowledge that some of the things that people have considered bad writing over the years are often personal preference (valid opinion, not always valid fact) and that just as there are clunkers in every season, there's something to appreciate about every showrunner and every Doctor.

After all, "The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don't always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don't always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

[quibbs126]

Another thing, I wish Sherl was a more meaningful member to the cast and he had some actual importance.

Like, in game he’s supposed to be the straight man/grumpy one of the group, doubting Katrielle’s strange plans and trying to keep her on track. Except the problem is, Katrielle doesn’t listen to him, and Ernest just follows whatever Kat says, so Sherl’s constantly outvoted or just brushed off. And they’re the only two who can hear him, so he’s out of luck trying to go with anyone else. Like he’s really only there to be snarky because he can’t really be anything else, given how this dynamic is

But I dunno, I just wish Sherl could have been more impactful to the overall plot instead of just a quirky side character? Like for example, having a scene where Sherl tells Katrielle to get her priorities in order (and there are actual stakes in this hypothetical scenario) and she has to actually listen to him, and then him being the actual grounding force of the trio, instead of just constantly ignoring him. Or maybe him being the one they go to for emotional support, or to just dump their feelings on while he gives some level of advice

I dunno, I just kind of wish Sherl had some actual impact to the group and he wasn’t just a character that could easily be cut out of the story if they wanted

[magnetothemagnificent]

The world is so hostile to tweens.....

Like we joke about how our schools growing up would ban the latest toy trends, but that reality genuinely horrific when you think about it. Like maybe 1% of the bans were based on safety, but the rest cited reasoning like

-"kids were bartering for collectibles" (kids learning about economics and product value)

-"kids were wearing them and the colors were too flashy" (kids experimenting with self expression and fashion)

-"kids were playing with them during lunch and recess instead of using our rusted safety hazard playground" (kids utilizing their free time to do what helps *them* unwind).

Play areas specifically geared towards children and especially towards teens are constantly being shut down. "Oh kids today are always on their phones!" Maybe because

-there are barely any arcades left and even less arcades that aren't adult-oriented,

-public pools and gyms are underfunded and shut down,

-"no loitering" laws prevent kids and teens from just hanging out,

-movie theatres only play the latest films and ticket prices are only rising,

-parks and playgrounds are either neglected or replaced with gear only directed at toddlers and unsuitable for anyone older

-genuine children's and young teen media is being phased out in favour of media directed only at very small children or older teens and adults.

-suburbs and even cities are becoming more and more hostile to pedestrians, it's just not safe for kids to walk to or ride their bikes to their friends' houses or other play destinations

Children's agency is hardly ever respected. Kids between the ages of 9-13 are either treated as babies or as full-grown adults, with no in-between. When they ask to be given more independence, they are either scoffed at or given more responsibilities than are reasonable for a child their age.

This is even evident in the fashion scene.

Clothing stores and brands like Justice and Gap are either closing or rebranding to either exclusively adult clothing or young children's clothes, with no middle ground for tweens. Tweens have to choose between clothes designed for adults that are too large and/or too mature for their age and bodies, or more clothes they feel are far too childish. For tween girls especially it's either a frilly pinafore dress with pigtails or a woman's size dress with cleavage. No wonder tween girls these days dress like they're older, it's because their other option is little girl clothes and they don't want to feel childish.

And then when tweens go to school, the books they want to read aren't available because they cover "mature" topics (read: oh no two people kissed and they weren't straight or oh no menstruation was mentioned or oh no a religion other than Christianity is depicted), so kids are left with books for way below their reading level. No wonder kids today are struggling with literacy, it's because they can't exercise and expand their reading skills with age-appropriate books. Readers need to be challenged with new words and concepts in order to grow in their skills, only letting tween read Dr. Seuss and nursery rhymes doesn't let them learn.

Discussions about substance use, reproduction, and sexuality aren't taught at an age-appropriate level in school or even by children's parents, so they either grow up ignorant and more vulnerable to abuse, or they seek out information elsewhere that is delivered in a less-than-age-appropriate manner. It shouldn't be a coin-toss between "I didn't know what sex was until I was 18 and in college" or "my first exposure to sex as a tween was through porn" or "I didn't know what sex was so I didn't know I was being sexually abused as a kid."

Tweenhood is already such a volatile and confusing time for kids, their bodies are changing and they're transitioning from elementary to middle to high school. It's hard enough for them in this stage, but it's made worse by how society devalues and fails them.

We talk about the disappearance of teenagehood, and maybe that's gonna happen in the future, but the erasure of tweenhood is happing in real time, and it's having and going to have major consequences for next generation's adults.

[tortademaracuya]

Frantically trying to remember what my og idea for why the fuck LI even insisted so much on saving Micah was like a dudebro trying to explain why the straight couple with no chemistry on a movie "totally works"

[whathorselegs]

Teen SKK being bad at remembering to eat regularly because they're used to skipping meals.

Dazai just doesn't register that he's hungry, his body doesn't alert him until he's grumpy and lightheaded and can't figure out he's hungry.

Chuuya, ignoring his body's signals because he got used to being hungry on the streets. He forgets he can now afford to eat what he wants, when he wants. So he'll go hours in a constant state of hunger.

The adults within the mafia noticing this and developing a habit of just supplying them with food whenever they get the opportunity.

Snacks at debriefing meetings. Mori ordering his security around like room service whenever they're in his office. Kouyou inviting them out to restaurants or for tea. Hirotsu questioning his life choices as he makes whole meals for two teenagers he supervising whilst they're on a mission outside Yokohama.

Ango constantly lecturing Dazai about the importance of a healthy diet whilst, unbeknownst to him, Oda slips Dazai a cookie because it's better than nothing in his eyes.

Chuuya wouldn't directly take food from The Flags if they offered it, so they made a game of sneaking snacks into his pockets and then denying any knowledge of it, when he found them later.

Their elders so often giving them food out of nowhere is part of why Dazai is comfortable begging for a share of his co-workers food at the agency. Who also usually give in to him because they know he wouldn't eat other otherwise.

Even Chuuya's subordinates will sometimes drop off snacks along with their mission reports because they know he hasn't left his office in a good few hours.

[crappycamille]

a/n: gasp, i actually wrote something. be easy on me okay, i haven’t done this in a while. just some fluffy conjecture tbh, although there is one suggestive line but that’s why all my stuff is 18+, minors dni please… enjoy <3

Bakugou Katsuki had never experienced touch.

Well, that’s not entirely true. He had been touched before: punched and hit by those desperately trying to escape his pursuit, clung to by those fearing for their life, gentle yet encouraging pats on the back from friends, loving but annoying pinches of the ear from his mother. He’s even been pawed at and caressed by lust-filled women that satisfy temporary needs. And even more dangerously, he’s been fondled by the promise of love disguised as lust… But never had Bakugou been touched.

At least until you.

The first time you touched Bakugou is a memory he will never forget. He was bone tired having worked an incredibly grueling month-long mission.

Instead of going home to catch up on much-needed sleep, he immediately went to his office to get the paperwork done. Most people don’t know that a lot of things on the legal side can’t go through until his side of the paperwork is done. Bakugou constantly feels like he’s never fast enough. No matter how fast he can get to the victims. No matter how fast he catches the villain. No matter how fast he gets things done he wasn’t fast enough to prevent the victims from becoming victims in the first place. So, in his mind, the least he could do is get his paperwork done as fast as possible so that those involved can get their justice.

But, of course, the moment the mission is done—before he’s even had a chance to change out of his hero suit—he’s met with nothing but a mountain of news articles and tabloid headlines ridiculing his name. They find joy in villainizing him over the smallest of details.

Most of the time, Bakugou ignores those things. It doesn’t matter to him what others think. They can nitpick whatever they want because despite that he won. He saved the people who needed to be saved. To him, that was all that really mattered… usually.

It must have been his level of exhaustion, but he couldn’t help the way his brows furrowed in disappointment reading the headlines. The words for the public sitting heavier on his chest than normal. His emotions got to him more than normal as he walked down the hallway from his official, finally heading home.

It was late.

Far too late for anyone else to still be there. Yet, he swore he could hear the soft pitter-patter of heels clicking against the floor. As he turned the corner he was met with the sight of you packing up. You hadn’t noticed him yet, so he watched with confusion as scurried around filing documents, turning off computers, and locking doors.

“The hell? Why’re you still here?” He internally cringed as his voice boomed more than he meant it to since you nearly jumped out of your skin upon hearing him.

“Oh Dynamight, Sir! I apologize I meant to be out of here before you noticed I was here.” Exhaustion seeped through your voice, giving you more rasp than normal.

“That’s not what I asked you. The hell’re you still here for?”

“Well…” you scratched your head feeling a bit shy, debating on whether or not to tell him the real reason why you were there. “I stayed to make sure all of the paperwork you submitted just now went through. As head of your legal team, it’s my job to make sure things on the agency’s side are squared away. I understand you like to get things done immediately after a mission, Sir.”

Bakugou was speechless. So many questions riddle through his head he wanted to ask. Had you done this after every mission and he never noticed you? yes When had you noticed that he came in after missions to do paperwork? Why did you care? Instead, he watched wordlessly as you gathered your things.

“You don’t need to do that.” He finally spoke. His tone was unusually soft, nearing sweet if you squinted hard enough. You breathily chuckled. You had been working for Bakugou long enough to know that was his way of saying thank you.

“It’s really no problem, Sir. No reason you have to be the only person in the office so late, especially after working such long missions.” You softly smiled at him. With you being so close, he could see the exhaustion prominent in your own face.

The two of you worked your way out of the building together in silence. Bakugou felt that he had so many things he wanted to say, so many things he wanted to ask, but they all muddled to the back of his mind.

It was only when you guys reached the front lobby exit that he became aware of the incessant buzzing of his phone. Countless mentions, tags, reposts, and message requests were flooding in from every social media app. He could’ve sworn he turned his notifications off a long time ago, but there they were. Those same articles that called him a corrupt hero, a heinous/reckless man, and nitpicked things down to the way he breathed were being sent to him over and over again. A constant reminder that so many people disapprove of him.

He hadn’t noticed how tightly he had been gripping his phone. How clenched his bicep was until he felt a gentle squeeze on his arm. Your hand was small in comparison to his but its presence was overwhelming.

Your thumb subtly rubbed soothing circles on his clenched bicep. “If it’s worth anything, I think you’re incredibly kindhearted. The world is lucky to have a hero like you protecting it. Goodnight, Sir. Get some rest.”

Bakugou thought he was going to melt the second you pulled your hand away. Your words rang loud in his ears, but his skin buzzed even louder at the lingering effects of your touch. He had to stop himself from sobbing in the lobby that night.

There was something oh so special about your touch.

From the first time you ever touched him to the way, you touch him now as his wife. He swears he has to stop himself from sobbing every time. It’s the overwhelming love that pours out of you every time your skin connects with his.

He was so incredibly touch-starved before you came along. Starved from the kind of touch that doesn’t come from platonic relationships. Starved from the touch of someone that didn’t expect to gain something from him in return. Starved from the intimate touch of true love.

He revels in every little touch you grace him with. The way you hold his hand under the dinner table. The way you pinch him lovingly, reminding him of his mother, when he says something out of pocket.The way you squeeze his thigh and rub soothing circles on him when tensions get high in a meeting. The way you nestle your face in his back as he cooks. The way you lightly slap his shoulder as you laugh hysterically. The way you drag your hands along his sides as he lays on you. The way you claw at him desperate to somehow bring him impossibly closer as he thrusts into you.

In all honesty, he still has a hard time fathoming that you are his. That you are in love with him. That you choose to be with him every day. He feels undeserving, but you always definitively object. He believes that you are so much more than anything he could ever be, but that’s exactly how you feel about him.

Your touch is just one of the things he obsesses over you. Because he is just so incredibly in love with you.

[mrwavellswaps]

Noticing The Difference

I never should’ve bought that fucking statue.

Two months ago I was, dare I say, an absolute hunk. I’d been working out for years on end. Always pushing my limits at every opportunity I could to grow better and stronger. I had a great diet which I made sure to always stick to and plenty of mates I could hit up the gym with. I was in the best shape of my life. Both looking and feeling bigger than ever with muscles that always managed to get me compliments from other dudes at the gym. Not to mention my genetics doing the absolute most by blessing me with a height of 6’1, a handsome face, a perfect hairline and an incredible beard. Looks that, needless to say, got me into bed with plenty of other hot dudes. Daddies, hunks, twinks. You name it. I’d been with them all.

I had everything going for me. I had a great job at my local gym. I’d been approached by multiple modelling agencies. I’d even amassed a fairly large following across my social media with my comment sections always full of thirsty people who ranged from leaving playful compliments to begging me for an onlyfans. Something I’d honestly begun to consider.

But then the statue happened. I found it at a small antique shop in town. I’m not even sure why I went in there. It was like something was drawing me in. Yet as soon as I was in the door I was greeted by an older man who wasted not time in offering his assistance. He whisked me around the shop, showing me everything he had to offer but I could tell he seemed particularly keen on selling me that one statue. I had no idea why at the time but in the end he won me over. It was fairly cheap and looked nice I supposed so before I knew it the shopkeeper was grinning as he took my money and handed me a receipt.

I found a spot for it at home on one of my bedroom shelves. But it was shortly after this that weird things began to happen. I found myself staring at it constantly. My eyes always drawn to the statue. I’d find myself thinking about it when I was at work. But things only started getting really weird when I began to get erections while looking at it. I had no idea why but my cock couldn’t help stiffening whenever my eyes met that of the statue. It very quickly got worse until soon enough I was standing in the middle of the room unable to break eye contact with the statue while jerking my fat dick. I wanted to stop but I couldn’t. It had some kind of hold over me. It wasn’t long then before I could feel my load rising up and getting ready to erupt until suddenly… I couldn’t move.

Everything around me spun and blurred in a dizzying fashion. When my vision cleared I was no longer staring at the statue, but rather I was staring at my own face! It didn’t make any sense! Somehow I was now looking at my muscular body from the outside as if I were a mere spectator. I had no idea what was going on but I couldn’t help feeling a wave of dread wash over me as my former face grinned maliciously at me. Seconds later however that grin twisted into a look of sheer pleasure as he drained my balls completely, groaning in my voice as he did.

“Fuuuuuuckk! It’s been too long since I’ve busted a nut!” He moaned while wiping some of my cum off his hand. Soon after he went on explain what just happened. Apparently the statue I’d bought was cursed. Every few years it starts to lure in a new victim. Making them want to take it home with them and soon become so entranced by it that they end up jerking off to it. In the process making their minds weak enough that the statue can steal their soul and trap them within itself. The side effect to this however is that the soul of the statue’s previous victim gets to take the newly vacant body in return. “Bro you have no idea how excited I was the second I saw you walking into the shop.”

I couldn’t believe it at first. I didn’t want to! But the reality of the situation was impossible to ignore as I watched this stranger begin to flex my muscles with a stupid smirk on what should’ve been my face. All while I was frozen in place. Unable to move or speak. Only capable of seeing and hearing. Completely powerless to stop this stranger from exploring the body he’d effectively stolen from me. And to make it even worse…

“Fuck. I’m gonna pull so many hot chicks with this body! Their pussies are gonna be dripping for this dick!”

He was straight.

Since then I’ve been unable to do anything but watch from a shelf in my bedroom as this guy took over my life completely. At first he really tried to act as much like me as possible. Shortly after taking my place, he looked through pretty much all my personal belongings much to my unheard protests. Learning every bit of information he could that he hadn’t already figured out in the time he’d been watching me from the statue. He must’ve scrolled through my phone for hours, looking through all my apps and messages. All the while playfully taunting me about it.

And after that he soon started going out. Dressing exactly as I would to meet with family and friends. And as soon as he got home he’d immediately come and tell me everything. Describing to me how hardly any of the people I knew even noticed a difference besides giving him an odd look here and there. It was both infuriating and terrifying at the same time. But I honestly couldn’t blame them. With my body’s muscle memory he already had most of my mannerisms down and could talk almost exactly like I did. And that’s how I thought things were going to stay. This imposter becoming my perfect replacement. That is until about a month in when something began to change…

He came into the bedroom one day and groaned as he threw off one of my now sweaty tank tops after what I can only assume was a jog home after a tough gym session to keep that body in shape. He finally allowed himself to catch his breath while placing his hands on those impressive hips I used to own. As he did his gaze shifted towards me; Initially with a glance before then turning to a smile which wouldn’t have seemed nearly as mocking if he didn’t follow it up with that annoying peace sign.

I rolled my metaphorical eyes at the gesture as he jumped on my bed and pulled out my laptop. Unfortunately I already knew what he was doing as he scrolled through some tabs he had saved while tugging down his shorts and unleashing that thick cock I used to own. I couldn’t help cringing like always as I watched him pull up a video and start jerking off to some girl bouncing her tits. He might’ve copied me in many ways but that definitely wasn’t one of them. It was always so unnerving to see my body and cock get horny over women. I usually just try my best to ignore it and hope he finishes quickly… but today wasn’t one of those days. It felt like hours before he finally tossed his head back and moaned with my voice as he spurted my load everywhere while a chick on the laptop was getting her pussy pounded.

“Ohhh gooddd!” He slurred his words coming off the high of orgasm. “I can’t take it anymore!” I had no idea what he meant at first but in hindsight if I’d known I would’ve wished for anything to stop him.

After cleaning himself up, that imposter trudged over towards me and looked me dead in the eyes. “Look man. I know I’ve been a bit of a dick to you this last month. Taking your body and what not. And I promise it wasn’t personal… not that I’m complaining.” A line he’d said to me many times by now as he flexed one of my biceps yet again. “I’ve tried to keep up this act of being you to be respectful I guess but I just can’t do it anymore bro! I wanna act like me!” I couldn’t help but find that last line somewhat ironic. “No offence dude but I'm not into half the stuff your friends and family expect me to be into and I'm not gay either. And I don’t wanna hide that anymore.” I could already feel my nightmare about this whole situation coming true at this point. “Sorry but I'm doing things my way now. I know you’re probably not gonna like it but I promise I’ll make it up to you bro. As soon as that statue you’re trapped in is ready to do its crazy magic shit again, I’ll make sure you get a sick new body. Maybe then we could hang out sometime as bros. No homo though.” He chuckled. And if that last joke wasn’t warning enough for what was to come, I didn’t know what was.

Immediately I could see the shift in his behaviour. Whenever he spoke he began to sound less like me and more like a douchey straight guy who can’t help saying ‘bro’ every other sentence. Things like the way he carried himself began to change and become more characteristic of the man who’d taken my identity. Next were the clothes as he quickly stopped wearing a lot of the tighter looking clothes I owned and pretty much threw out most of the clothes he considered to be ‘too gay’. Quickly replacing them with new clothes he’d bought which just made my former body look so painfully straight. But I guess that’s what he was aiming for.

But it didn’t stop there. I’d already figured out he was a football guy before now with how I could always hear him shouting and cheering at the TV whenever there was a match on. So it wasn’t long before he’d bought a bunch of football related shit as well to put up around my place. After which he told me all about how my friends thought it was so weird that he was so into football now. I wasn’t surprised considering I’d always said before how much the sport bored me.

Now he’d turned my former self into one of the straightest looking and acting guys on the planet. And this couldn’t have been more apparent as I heard him come home with what sounded like two other dudes he’d made friends with at the gym. Straight gym bros I assumed who I’d probably never spoken to before. I could hear them all getting settled on the couch with beers as they hung out. Doing weird shit like chugging their beer and seeing who could belch the loudest. Eugh. I tried to ignore it but my ears couldn’t help perking up when they started having a conversation about my former self’s sexuality…

“Yeah I dunno guys. I used to think I was gay but recently I’ve been thinking of experimenting you know? I’ve always been curious as to what fucking pussy feels like.” I heard him say. Fuck. Up until now he hadn’t actually had sex with a woman since taking my body despite how much he talked about wanting to do it. I figured at least a part of him still felt bad for stealing my body and he probably figured I’d hate it. So when I heard one of his new bros offering to call up a lady friend of his who apparently had a crush on my imposter. I’d have screamed for him not to take the offer if I could. But there was nothing I could do.

“Call her bro.”

Before I know it I have to bear witness as my own body stumbles into the bedroom with a busty chick wrapped around his waist. As they kissed their way over towards the bed, he looked up at me with a what seemed to be a somewhat guilty look. However that look was quickly wiped away as the chick grabbed his bulge, coaxing a satisfactory grunt out from my former voice. Now I found myself cringing a hundred times harder than I ever did before as she started going on about how she knew I wasn’t really gay and that I just needed the right woman.

What came after seemed like torture to me. Having to watch as my imposter got his dick sucked by a woman I didn’t know. Staring on helplessly as he reached down and grabbed at her tits, causing my old dick to buck with excitement as he squeezed them. And even worse so as he moved on to sliding my cock between her tits and fucking them! It felt so wrong to watch but I couldn’t look away as he eventually stopping fucking her tits only to start eating out her pussy instead! God… seeing my own face between a woman’s legs just looked wrong. And yet he was having the time of his life.

But eventually my worst fear came true as I watched him line my cock up with the entrance to her pussy. I could swear he looked up at me again just for a second to mouth the words ‘sorry bro’ before suddenly plunging inside her. And once he did he was like an animal. A beast even! Slamming my formerly gay cock as deep into her pussy as it would go, causing them both to wail out in pleasure. After that he must’ve pounded her for what seemed like hours to me. Stuffing that big titted bimbo full with my dick as the only sound that could be heard over all the moaning was my balls slapping against her taint. Torture didn’t even sound like a strong enough word at this point.

They switched positions a couple of times before they finally reached the climax. Across which time the chick complimented my former cock multiple times on how perfect it was for her pussy and how it made her cum faster than any other guy could. But eventually my imposter reached his limit. There were a few uneven thrusts before finally he let out a long loud groan just as I always did when I came. Immediately his cock began to spasm as it filled the pussy below him with an enormous load, much to this chick’s desire by the look of it. And he wasn’t even wearing a fucking condom…

A few minutes later I had the displeasure of watching him slowly dislodge from her pussy with a dumb grin. He wiped off his sticky cock and pulled on a pair of baggy shorts as the chick continued to bask in the afterglow of it all. I watched as he headed towards the door where his new bros were waiting for him on the other side.

“How was it man? You still think you’re gay?” One of them asked.

That body snatcher of mine grinned. “Nope. I’m as straight as an arrow bros. Tits and pussy only from now on.” He claimed, having to make it all sound somewhat believable before the other two men wrapped their arms around him in a celebratory manner before grabbing him another beer.

I can already tell these are gonna be a looooong few years before he’s finally able to keep that promise and put me in a new body. At this rate by the time I get out of this curse statue, he’ll have knocked up enough bimbo’s to have his own soccer team. Hopefully he’ll start using a condom before then…

[kingkatsuki]

— when he catches you crying

Masterlist.

Warnings: none (although not proofread soz.)

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.8k.

There were some days where being Dynamight’s secretary weren’t always perfect. Thousands of people online wished they could be where you are right now, a position that had you working closely with the number two hero, and of course you were thankful. But some days you just wished time would speed up and you could go home and climb into bed. Daydreaming about having some sort of time-changing quirk so you wouldn’t have to put up with those terrible work days, and instead speed through them.

Being the number two hero meant that he was constantly in demand. Whether it was companies trying to get ahold of him for collaborations, agencies hoping to get Dynamight to team up on missions, brand ambassadors trying to send him a slew of freebies from clothing to charcuterie boards or the media hoping to get the first scoop the phone was constantly ringing off the hook.

Luckily for you most of these calls were intercepted lower down, the Dynamight PR team were always quick to filter out the quality calls and give courteous, personalised responses each time. But that didn’t mean the ones that finally managed to reach your floor, his floor, were any kinder. Having a timed appointment call with the Pro didn’t actually mean you’d manage to get him on the line, as most people in the industry had now leaned Dynamight worked on his schedule, no one else’s. And most of the time callers were sympathetic to you, but not always.

You’d had to apologise to a brand for Dynamight being unavailable at the appointed time, a last minute meeting with Pro-Hero Hawks meant that he was now stuck inside his office for the foreseeable. Something that you knew irked Bakugou to no end, knowing he’d probably rather take this mundane call than spend more than five minutes alone with the feathered hero. But work was work, and while he was being supposedly tortured inside, you were now subject to a slew of insults on the phone with the head of the company.

Usually you’d just hang up at this point, the insults you faced not worth whatever price they were willing to pay for Dynamight’s face on their posters. But you were already having a bad day, and the words came hard and fast. No matter how polite you tried to be, they cut deep. Feeling your throat begin to tighten as pearly tears clung to your lash line, threatening to spill down your cheeks. You slammed the phone down in irritation as you pushed the chair back from your desk, leaving without another thought as you went to compose yourself in the bathroom.

It wasn’t long after that Bakugou stepped out of his office, noticing the disappointed look on Hawks face when he’d moved directly towards your desk to bid you a farewell (and probably flirt with you for the next fifteen minutes, Bakugou supposed), and noticed you were no longer there.

The phone sat ringing unanswered and you always told him when you were going on lunch or leaving the floor, even if it was just a sweet little email. Rolling his eyes at Hawks teasing when he noticed Bakugou’s expression diminish slightly too as he stepped into the elevator.

“That’s a shame, I was hoping to take her to lunch after our little meeting,” Hawks grinned, “Tell her I said goodbye, yeah?”

Fucking prick. Bakugou seethed as he went towards the end of the hall to ask one of your co-workers where you’d gone, hearing that you’d had a pretty shitty phone call and you’d made your way to the women’s bathrooms on the floor below.

Ignoring his schedule, he made his way towards the stairs. Retracing your footsteps as he found the door to the ladies restrooms and ignored the writing on the front as he shoved it open to step inside. Thankful that it seemed to be empty, aside from the muffled sobs coming from one of the stalls. A sound that seemingly quietened as the door opened, clearly trying to hide yourself away from anyone listening to you.

“Hey,” Bakugou knocked on the door lightly as he leaned against the door, his signature boots visible to you beneath as your eyes widened in surprise that your boss had found you like this, in the women’s bathroom no less.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” You sniffled, dabbing the paper tissue against your wet cheeks, “It’s the womens—”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ know.” His voice came out rougher than he’d intended, the sound had fresh tears welling in your eyes as you thought you’d upset him even more by leaving your desk unmanned.

“I’ll be back up in a sec, I’m sorry for leaving the phone ringing I’ll—” Your throat was hoarse as you rambled your apologies to him, the guilt swirling in your abdomen as you tried to blink back the pearly wet tears.

“Stop it, that ain’t why I’m here.” He scoffed, “Just open the door.”

“I’ll just be a few minutes, I’ll see you back in the office.” You were certain you probably looked awful. Your mascara was definitely lined down your cheeks if the darkened tissue was anything to go by, and your eyes were surely red.

“Open the door, sweetheart.” He continued, “I just wanna make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” You mumbled.

“Don’t lie to me,” He whispered, “I wanna know what’s got my secretary sobbin’ in the toilet before midday.”

“It’s nothing, honestly.” You didn’t even know how to tell him that a random stranger on the phone made you cry, especially when you should’ve been thicker skinned working below the number two.

“I could get forty grievances against me for this, you know. Dynamight in the fuckin’ ladies.” Bakugou smiled slightly as you couldn’t help but huff out a small laugh on the other side, “So I think you can tell me what’s wrong.”

You were silent inside the stall as Bakugou lay the side of his head against the door, trying to listen to you as he tried one final time to get you to come out.

“Was it me?” He mumbled, and you felt your stomach drop that he could even think it was something he’d done.

“No!” You retorted swiftly.

“So what was it?” He continued.

You weren’t even sure what to tell him, you’d cried over a stupid clothing brand, or whatever it was he was trying to sell. You should be stronger as Dynamight’s secretary, have thicker skin, not cry over any random stranger that’s mean to you on the phone.

“Come on, sweetheart. Please?” He murmured gruffly, “I know people think I’m a fuckin’ asshole but I ain’t about to leave without checkin’ on you. Let me see that you’re alright and I’ll leave you alone, yeah?”

You hated the way your body reacted to him, even like this he had your heart pounding against your ribcage as you sniffled, wiping your cheeks a final time as you moved to open the door.

Bakugou was leaning against the doorframe casually as worried crimson eyes looked down at you, his brows were still furrowed deeply as though he was irritated at you and this made fresh tears well in your eyes as you tried to look to the ground.

“‘m sorry.” Your bottom lip trembled as you felt the hot tears begin to stream down your face again, but what happened next shocked you even more.

“C’mere, shitty woman.” Bakugou’s forearm reached up to circle around your neck, bringing your entire frame against his as he pressed your face into his chest. The comforting touch had your tears freely flowing as you soaked the soft, probably expensive, fabric of his shirt. But he didn’t seem to care, his other hand still buried inside his pants pocket as he held you steady against him, eventually resting his chin on the top of your head as he let you cry.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He hummed, “Let it all out.”

Bakugou knew what it was like to cry alone, the isolation and the ache it caused as his chest heaved and throat tightened. The sheer number of times he’d wished someone was there for him, to pat his back and tell him it would be okay, and seeing the woman he was so desperately in love with the same way, hurt.

And you let yourself cry, the tears immediately soaking into him as the damp material of his shirt stuck to your cheeks, the scent of him comforting as you sniffed to try and inhale every part of it. Letting yourself melt into him as he swayed slightly while you cried into his chest in the bathroom.

Once the tears stopped falling you pulled back with bleary eyes, your head throbbing slightly from the length of time you’d been crying as he gave you a lazy, close lipped smile.

“There she is,” He murmured, resisting the urge to reach up with calloused thumbs and wipe the final few tears away, “Can’t believe you got me in the girls bathroom.”

You felt guilty at that, knowing that he was supposed to be taking a phonecall from Pro-Hero Deku right now before he went into his afternoon patrol.

“Take the rest of the day,” He cut you off before you’d even had a moment to utter your first objection, your mouth still agape as you readied to speak, “I ain’t taking no for an answer, grab your shit and get out.”

He sounded harsh, but you could hear the softness to his voice as he stepped away from you, grimacing when you noticed your makeup staining his shirt as he moved to leave the bathrooms.

“And you get me personally if that fucker ever calls back again, yeah?”

What he’d really wanted to say was, he’d take every single grievance he got for this just to make sure that you were okay, because you were more important than any of that.

“Thanks, Dynamight.” You mumbled, watching him leave the ladies restroom as you stepped towards the sinks to clean your face. Grimacing when you caught sight of just how awful you looked when you met your reflection in the mirror.

What you didn’t know was that same afternoon, Bakugou got a call from the same company that had berated you and made you cry. Leaning back in his chair as he listened to the man ramble on the phone about how excited they’d be to work with a Hero such as Dynamight, and the plans they had in mind. But Bakugou told them he’d never work for them, and he would ensure every hero in the top twenty would do the same. Because no amount of money was worth it after he’d seen you cry.

[jacksonlywife]

Falling Tears

(BSD MEN REACT TO THEIR SPOUSE CRYING)

(GN!Reader)

Dazai Osamu:

We all know Dazai is one to shrug off people's problems as if it were a measly little thing that was nothing to fuss over. The casual “You’ll be fine~!” But we all also know that Dazai cares for you. He loves you. If you were to sob in front of him it’d send him into an overdrive of broken worry.

You were tired. Sick and tired. It felt as if everyone was shrugging you off of your problems and you ran to the agency bathroom because your throat closed up and felt water appearing in your eyes. 

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

You knew those footsteps. It was your boyfriend. Dazai. You immediately began trying to wipe the tears, imagining that if Dazai were to see he’d try to stifle his laughter because of all those times he waved off your problems and vents. Sadly the tears couldn’t stop and now you were a flushed mess looking down to avoid his gaze. It was piercing.

“Darling what's this? Why’re you trying to hide your pretty face from meee~?” He cooed tilting your head up, having a playful smile but it broke as he noticed your tears. 

“Oh..what happened.?” 

“No one listens or takes me seriously. Not even you! I’m tired. Go away.” You try to shrug him off but he grasps your hands pulling you onto his chest.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He frowned, his face softening. “I’m the asshole for ignoring. I should've known.” Worry was evident on his handsome face and you flushed at his words. You really needed to hear that. As Dazai apologized he peppered your face with kisses.

“Next time slap me if I brush off your problems. I might like it if you slap me though.” He winked which you scoffed at, holding back a chuckle.

Chuuya Nakahara:

Chuuya, despite being someone who definitely needs anger management classes will get immensely suspicious if you were to get the tiniest bit of a frown on your face. “Are you alright?” He’d constantly ask and once you break down his heart shatters.

You collapsed onto your bed spasming a bit from trying to hold back your tears. You knew you could tell Chuuya your love about your problems. Though there was a thing inside of you that said that he would be forcing himself to comfort you so you kept your mouth shut silently sobbing into a pillow curled up.

You flinched as the door knob cranked open revealing your boyfriend with wide eyes as he saw you so disheveled.

“What's wrong doll?” He murmured going to you and sitting beside you on the bed taking his gloved fingers to stroke your back delicately.

“I-I’m sorry I don’t wanna bother.” You mumble back looking back down at the pillow you sobbed into.

“Tell me who did it.” Chuuyas glare becomes more pronounced as seconds pass and you almost chuckle at his overprotectiveness.

“I’m just tired.” You say averting your gaze.

“I can be your stress relief.” He stared and flushed at his own words, scowling. “Not like that! Like..my arms are free for you.”

You laughed and dug yourself deep into his chest nuzzling as Chuuya put his chin on your head, kissing it gently.

Ranpo Edogawa:

This piece of shit of an egotistical man will KNOW your sad but won’t do anything about it. He’ll brush it off like Dazai in a more childish way. “I have better things to do!” He’d say casually sucking on his lollipop. But those once closed eyes would widen at the sight of your tears coming on display.

Everything and everyone was so mean. Why can’t they just understand you're tired?! You’ve tried. So. Many. Times. To talk to your boyfriend about your problems but he’d change the topic with what he was busy with.

Thinking no one was here you buried yourself into your desk of the agency, silent tears slipping out your eyes as you took a shaky breath, hands trembling beneath the desk. You sniffled but then heard a drop of some kind of food. Ice cream. Splat on the ground as you lift your head to see your boyfriend staring at you wide eyed, his glasses barely holding on.

“What?” You say annoyed wiping your tears so you don’t embarrass yourself further.

“You're crying.” He said as if it weren't the most obvious thing in the world.

“No shit.” You rubbed your eyes frantically realizing the tears wouldn’t stop which turned into a sniffle fest and you averted your body from him in a fluster.

Footsteps came closer and you felt arms wrap around your waist from behind and a face nuzzle into your neck.

“Did I do it.?” Ranpo mumbled a childish tone evident in his voice.

“Your part of it.” You said between tears and then your boyfriend kissed the back of your neck sending shivers down you. You try to glare but he uses the puppy dog look to manipulate you. Damn it.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled averting his gaze.

You didn’t fully accept his apology but you did accept the kisses he kept giving you during this encounter making you flush.

(FIRST POST IN LIKE MONTHSOMG anyway)

[dellaliz19]

This is by no means the most important take by far re this whole Titan/Titanic debacle but I feel like it’s worth reiterating again: the 24 hour news cycle only serves to ramp up panic and speculation, and functionally serves as conspiracy fuel just to fill ad sponsored time.

Because let’s be real: EVERY single actual expert that weighed in on this was very clear that there were 3 possible options, and that death was the mostly likely option in each scenario, those being:

1) The sub was intact at the bottom of the ocean with:

a) no power and no technology that existed to get it back up.

b) might have had power but been stuck under a piece of the Titanic and could be dislodged, but that this was HIGHLY unlikely and that dislodging it could still break the sub.

2) Was floating on the surface after being able to ballast up, but that it would be incredibly hard to find the sub as it would have no way to communicate, no way for the passengers to get themselves out, and was WHITE, making it basically impossible to see by air rescue.

3) Had imploded at the initial loss of contact (the most likely theory), likely secondary to poor construction and damage from a prior descent, and the passengers had died instantly.

Even ignoring the idea that the “96 hour window re oxygen” was basically irrelevant given: the CO2 scrubbers likely weren’t going to function that well and that death by freezing or dehydration could also absolutely occur before then, the news media’s complete frenzy on that “ticking clock” was beyond transparently gross and circled all the way back into conspiracy territory.

Look I’m on the camp of “these rich people walked right into the risks of this and their families should receive a bill for the coast guard and public agency search and rescue costs.”

But seriously, constantly updating the “ticking clock,” bringing in new “experts” every couple hours to talk about some new way they could “survive in low O2 past that 96 hours” (seriously, CBC), hyper focusing on the idea that “if we can just find them they’ll be saved” (despite the wealth of evidence to the contrary) should serve as an indictment of the 24 hour new cycle and it’s negative impact on real, publically useful journalism.

Because you can’t fill all those news hours with people just repeating that iconic “Do you think they can be saved? No.” sound bit, right? You have to keep feeding into the idea that they CAN be saved, to sell the airtime.

You can’t report the actual news: that they still haven’t found the sub. Just relating that every hour on the hour won’t keep people glued to your channel.

But endless bullshit speculation will.

And so now, when they’ve found the debris, every moron with their tin foil hat already at the ready can scream about the “rhythmic banging” and “faking their death for tax shelters” and “well no bodies, so it didn’t happen,” well fed by the media’s absolute refusal to cover this in a real, productive way.

[melanieph321]

You and Jude met a few days before going to SGP for international duty in a club or something.

You guys click right away and there’s so much chemistry and you end up spending the whoooooole night together, you have breakfast in bed the morning after and off he goes to SGP. You start texting and there’s more attraction between you two and he keep saying that he can’t stop thinking about you and it’s the same for you.

He invites you to the first friendly with Brazil and you don’t know if it’s appropriate going as families and partners will be there and ofc his parents.

You end up going and he introduces you as his friend but most of the guys know each one of his friends and they had never heard of you so they know there’s more, same for his parents as they catch you talking deep and they notice his soft look for you.

This is so good! 😭

SEVEN DAYS OF REQUESTS (DAY 4)

Jude Bellingham x Reader - Capture Me Part 1/2

Part 2

Enjoy!

You had always been passionate about photography, and as a photography student, you were always on the lookout for opportunities to hone your skills and earn some extra money. So when your teacher asked you to help her out with a shoot, you did not hesitate to take the job. However, when she gave you the adress to where the shoot would be happening, you had to read the text message twice, one time out loud,  just to make sure that you hadn't gotten it wrong.

"Wembley Stadium?" You frowned. "What the fuck am I doing at Wembley Stadium?"

Turns out that your teacher had a life outside of teaching university kids how to adjust their lenses. Apparently she owned her own model agency that specialized in Sports photography, hence today's job - shooting England's national men's football team ahead of their fixture against Brazil.

You were a bit nervous at first. You had never photographed for a sporting event before. Thankfully your teacher put you on portrait duty whilst she took care of capturing the players in action. It turned out to be a really fun shoot. One of the best gigs you've ever gotten. The football players were a fun and energetic bunch, and they were eager to show off their skills and personalities to your camera. Some of them were constantly moving around, striking poses even though you didn't ask them to. It was helpful at times but not always.

Despite the chaos, the football players were incredibly friendly and curious about you and your job. You found yourself laughing and joking with the players, all of them except for one.

"Is this gonna take all day, or what?" Said Jude Bellingham. He was called in to stand behind your camera but seemed a bit on the edge to.

"Just chill out, Jude, she'll just be a minute." Said one of his teamsmates, telling him off. Jude took it as a joke, though. "Yeah, but you lot get to go to lunch already whilst I'm still stuck here."

You had just gotten to readjusting the lighting but was immediately struck by his confidence and charisma. However, you were determined to focus on your work rather than letting his cocky demeanor distract you.

You snapped a shot.

"Hey?"

Jude had his eyes closed in that one so you snapped another shot.

"Hey, I wasn't ready."

You snapped another shot. And another.

"For fuck sakes...Now I know you're joking with me."

You ignored him, eyes narrowed at your laptop screen.

"Fascinating." You muttered.

Jude frowned.  "What is?" 

Looking at your computer screen you couldn't help but notice the way the light reflected off his muscles and the way Judes smile lit up his entire face.

"Is something wrong?"

You looked up. Jude was looking at you with a bit of concern in his eyes. Heat rose to your face. "No. Of course not."

"Oh. Okay." He nodded. "So am I done?"

"No."

"No?"

"No. It's just..." You were blushing now. Blushing like a fool. "I meant to say that you are really photogenic."

"And what does that mean. That I'm hot?"

"No, and yes." You laughed, avoiding snorting like a pig. "I guess you can say that you're photos are good looking, but it's more about the fact that you are totally made to be behind the camera." You said, cringing internally.

"Aren't you the one behind the camera?" Jude smirked.

You shook your head. A sign to hold back on the compliments towards a guy who probably gets them everyday.

"But you are." He said, still with his eyes curiously checking you out.

"I am what?"

"Technically you are the one behind the camera not me."

You sighed. "Yes, maybe I am."

He smiled, having proven his point.

It was a sweet moment. A brief moment that you share with Jude, where the two of you were shyly glancing at each other, not really saying anything. Nevertheless, the shoot continued with Jude posing behind the camera, showing of the men's football kit for this year.

Despite his initial arrogance, Jude turned out to be a lot of fun to work with, and you found yourself enjoying the shoot more than you expected. Perhaps that's what led you to take up his offer when he asked....

"So are you having lunch with us or...?"

"Um...I don't know?" You said, not sure if your teacher mentioned that lunch would be included today.

"Come on." Jude waved. "I'm sure the guys can spare you a sausage."

"Thanks Jude, that's really sweet of you." But you had yet packed away all of your photography tools. They were supposed to be loaded onto your teachers van and taken back to her agency. "I don't think I'm gonna make it to lunch, I still have a job to do."

"Okay." He said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the door frame. "If not lunch, how about dinner?"

"Pardon?"

He smiled at your reaction. "I'm asking you to dinner. Are you free tonight?"

You frowned. "Do you even know my name?"

"Do I have to?"

You rolled your eyes.

"Fine." He sighed. "I'm Jude Bellingham, what's your name?" He offered you a hand.

You took it and shook it firmly. "It's Y/N."

His eyes widened in suprise, a slight twitch in the corner of his lips. "Hello Y/N, are you free to go out to dinner with me tonight?"

"No."

"Oh, come on."

You laughed. "Fine. But nothing fancy."

"Why not?" He frowned.

"Why not? Don't people follow you with cameras everywhere you go? I don't want to be a part of that."

"Too bad." He shrugged. "I've been told that that I'm very photogenic."

"Shut up." You laughed and shoved him out of the room, shouting: "I'll leave my number with the people at the ticket outlet!"

"Alright, talk to you later Y/N."

"Bye, Jude."

Part 2

[sokka-simp]

Violent

Bakugo x reader

inspired by Violent by carolesdaughter

A/N: not me listening to this song on repeat for like 4 hours 🤠

Updated A/N: This was in my drafts from like 3 years ago or something and I'm bored rn so I decided to finish it even though it's shitty..

Warnings: cussing, divorce

Don’t make me run away out the back door

Katsuki constantly came home late or missed dates because of hero work. Which is ok, you know he loves his job and you’re going to support him in every way you can. But today was different, today was your first anniversary of being married. He swore that he would come home this time, that he already told people at his agency to have a different hero take over his patrol. But he obviously didn’t.

Because here you sat, alone, in the restaurant that Katsuki wanted to go to. Everyone in the fancy restaurant stared at you with pity or intrigued looks as if your life was a show. Your fingers dug into your other hand, desperately trying to cease the threatening tears as you got stood up—by your husband—again. You couldn’t do this anymore. This was the only time you thought Katsu was finally going to show up; he was finally going to put you first. You thought you could handle his absence but you just can’t. Not anymore. Your ever-growing tears blurred the soft lights from the diamond chandeliers above your head; your body trembled slightly, causing the intricately carved chair you were sitting on to shake on the polished, mahogany floor.

“Um, excuse me. Are you ok? Do you need anything?” A soft hand tapped your shoulder, and you turned to your waiter.

Your hand came up and wiped at your eyes before you smiled sadly up at her and shaking your head no. You mumbled out a ‘one minute’ before taking out your card and giving it to her, going to pay for your two full glasses of wine. Eyes pointed forward as you waited, you stared at the empty chair, a sight you were more used to than not. And then you realized something: Katsuki doesn’t love you, not the way you love him; Not enough to make you feel happy.

I want my clothes back

When Katsuki finally got home you were already undressed and lying on the couch. Sleeping next to Katsuki after everything he had consistently put you through seemed too hard; pretending everything was ok seemed too hard so you decided you'd demote yourself to the living room. You heard him when he got home since the tears hadn't been able to send you to sleep like usual. The realization tonight had caused pain unlike the other nights he had shown you he didn't care. Tonight the emptiness and anger kept you awake despite your best attempts to fall asleep. Katsuki moved from the front door and through the kitchen, then through the living room past you, and to the bedroom. He didn't bother to stop and check on you, he didn't bother to give a half-hearted apology like usual, he didn't bother to do anything. He doesn't care; he doesn't love you. That was it: you got up and grabbed your keys and wallet from the kitchen counter before moving towards the door and slipping your shoes on. You were being as loud as possible in hopes--unlikely as it would be--that Katsuki would come out and try to stop you. His wife, someone who loves him, someone who cooks for him and washes his hero suits, someone who cleans for him since he doesn't have enough time with all his work. But none of that truly matters to him and you were shown that tonight. He didn't come out, didn't even yell out a "y/n," he just ignored it. So you kept going; you grabbed your coat, and shed off Katsuki's hoodie, not wanting anything to do with him at the moment, and left your shared apartment.

You say you miss me, so then I drive back to you

It had been a few weeks since you had left the apartment. Katsuki had tried to get in touch the first few days but it was a pointless endeavor. You ignored him and had Mina stop him from visiting you at her house. It wasn't something you could handle; it wasn't something you could deal with after a year of pleading for effort and being ignored again and again. However, after a week or so you caved; he was your husband; 'your' Katsuki. You couldn't stay away for too long, which is why you stayed so long in the first place. The texts were full of promises: "I love you, I had to cover someone else's shift. I promise," "I'll do better, I promise," "It's the last time, I promise." They weren't working, you knew they weren't sincere. But after a while, you were broken down, and when he sent his last text you knew hoped it could change: "I miss you, y/n, please come home."

Don’t make me get violent

The first week or so you were back Katsuki showered you in kisses, cuddles, gifts, whatever you could name. But it quickly went away. It quickly turned back into "I have work," "I'll male it next time," "I told you our date wasn't confirmed, I have work and there's nothing I can do about it." After all his promises you were naive enough to believe him, but you wouldn't sit back and beg anymore. When he got home after another cancelled date you knew it was over.

"Katsuki, I can't do this anymore," you say solemnly "You promised it would be different, but this past year you've never changed. You leave me to sit and wait. To beg for your attention. I waited for hours on our fucking anniversary just for you not to show."

"I-" Katsuki started but you cut him off.

"No! You don't get to talk. I'm tired of your half-assed apologies, I'm tired of your little "I'll be better"s! It's not fair. And I'm done." You yell before taking a moment to calm your breathing. "We're done." You finish.

Katsuki looks shocked, annoyed even, but he doesn't look hurt. He doesn't look sad, remorseful, or even remotely upset. He just squares his jaw and looks at you. "We're done?" His voice is steady and it's obvious he doesn't care, he's just tired of this conversation after a long day of work.

"Yes" you mumble, shocked by his reaction and hurt by how obvious it is he doesn't care.

"I want my ring back" Katsuki grunts out, holding his hand out.

You pause in absolute disbelief and take it off before walking out. Katsuki doesn't deserve a reaction anymore.

You don’t listen anyways, I’ll be quiet

I don’t really feel like fighting

A/N: This is genuinely bad but I don't care, I just got bored and wanted to write. I also didn't proof read just a heads up.

[thebrightestwitchofherage]

I’ve had it with ignorant anime blogs who learned the world Palestine about 5 days ago

….(through social media of course) Telling me, a Jewish Israeli women, who has been living through this conflict her entire life - that I’m wrong.

They never have credible examples yet they’re constantly asking me for proof for my people’s biggest massacre since the holocaust.

When something doesn’t fit your narrative it propaganda:

When I provide actual evidence and proof- Its propaganda.

-the sad truth is that anti Zionists believe literal Hamas propaganda

Then they move on to patronising me and making gross generalisation of an entire 10 million people country. It always something along the lines of

“Oh no sweetie you’re so brainwashed you don’t understand “. Bruh I live 2 hours away from Gaza, this is my own country, there’s been a terror attack just yesterday.

And finally- they ask for proof. I’ve come to hate that word.

Anti Zionists are a quick to believe a literal terror organisation then listen to Jews and educate themselves.

-A quick google search will prove you wrong.

-I’ve made dozens of posts about the conflict and Jewish history. All of them include *credible* sources and statistics, images , graphs, links to articles and examples.

-Al Jazeera isn’t a credible news and information source*: it’s racist, antisemitic and heavily biased. It’s filled with Hamas propaganda- they literally call terrorists “martyrs”.

*(Ive made a more detailed post about that as well )

-once again, Hamas literally live streamed their crimes.

Your ignorance and antisemitic rhetoric is showing. You lack basic understanding of history and key terms.

-you clearly don’t know what the word Zionism even means.

The fact that I found a tag saying “Zionism is terrorism”🤡🤦‍♀️

——-

As always here are some articles & posts to educate yourself:

https://www.terrorism-info.org.il/en/evidence-of-the-terrorist-organizations-use-of-civilian-facilities-in-the-gaza-strip/

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[beesmygod]

hiveworks:

-ignored me when i tried to warn them about kinomatika, a serial scam artist, and more or less affirming that their abuse toward me (which i did not detail or disclose to them, i focused on the financial facts) was monetarily justified

-used me as an unpaid consultant for 7 years, including picking out the CEO's outfits, website design, and advice. all unpaid.

-disclosed to me the personal lives and habits of other comic artists despite me literally never asking. if youve ever done anything unflattering in front of xel, then i heard about it. for some reason

-tried to repeatedly impress me or....something by constantly sending me updates about their lastest frivolous purchases or big financial deal or total revenue i would mysteriously never see the results of even in the form of trying to improve hive itself

-desperately wants to be thought of as a leftist collective despite their reliance on advertising and financial focus. they are not a collective or community. its an advertising agency with perks, if youre already making money

-had to be begged to have my website added in a timely manner after i was accepted and was at the bottom of the "to-do" pile from that point on. refused to work with me when flash was becoming depreciated. i wanted to either change it to html5 or, barring that, replace the flash video with a youtube embed. for some reason they refused to do this. now that have access to my backend again i can do it myself in like a few minutes lol.

-right before i left, they nuked the group/official discord and started imposing incredibly stupid rules bc adults were having too many emotions where they could see it

-are objectively wrong about piracy and the preservation of digital media, taking a firm "anti" stance until they realized it was morally unpopular. this extends to the members, who chronically petrified at the actually delusional belief that people are pirating them to such a degree that it causes a financial deficit

-the way they talk about their audiences is putrid. like theyre constantly angry at the attention and praise they've gone out of their way to cultivate. a common refrain was "you dont owe your audience anything" which is literally and demonstrably not true lol.

-barely paid me 100 dollars a month for this

toward the end of my run, other artists started bitching that i was making hive look bad "because it reflects back on them" so i left. upon realizing and being told i was representing the company that treated me like this, i was offered an out and took it. as a gift to them, primarily.

bad company. didnt like it.