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#it's not something i do often bc i used to wait for a sale but game prices just don't go down anymore 😑

am-i-the-asshole-official · 9 months

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AITA if I didn’t side with my mom in an argument at the checkout of a department store?

To be clear, I didn’t think I was the AH here but my mom did.

This was a few years ago, and I (early 20s M) was at the department store with my sister (late teens F) and my mom (50s F). I saw a cool coat I wanted to buy. I don’t often find stuff I like that’s also my size, and although it was missing the decorative belt thing, I thought that’s fine and put it together with the other clothes we wanted to get. My mom said she’s gonna ask for a discount on it bc it was defective and I shrugged bc sure, why not, it wouldn’t hurt to ask, right?

Clearly, I was wrong. We go to check out, and the lady working there was probably a new hire because she was having trouble with the machines. I didn’t see an issue with it, bc everybody’s gotta learn, but my mom took offense. This was compounded by the fact that neither the lady nor my mom are native English speakers and both spoke with an accent (the lady’s was a bit heavier than my mom’s). So both of them were having trouble understanding each other, and my mom’s solution to “I don’t understand you” is to speak more loudly, which ends up as yelling. Obviously, this makes everyone uncomfortable and probably scared the lady a lot.

My mom asks for the discount, the lady says she can’t/doesn’t know how, and I say something like “that’s okay we’ll just buy it bc I still really like the coat”. But my mom refused to back down and insisted that because it’s defective we deserve a discount.

So the lady starts trying to help, except the system isn’t working or she doesn’t know how, and my mom got even angrier. I speak up again and try to help by translating what the lady is saying into my mom’s native language (I’m conversationally fluent in her language, and English is my native language). Keep in mind the entire time I’m ALSO trying to tell my mom it’s okay we should just buy the damn coat at its listed sale price. I even offered to put the coat back if it’s too expensive, bc the coat wasn’t worth the public humiliation of standing there for 30 minutes arguing with some poor clerk. My sister and I were so uncomfortable. There was even another lady who was also waiting in line who made a snide comment to the tune of “just leave the poor lady alone she’s just trying to do her job” and I felt so awful because I was genuinely trying my best to tell my mom to stop and that this isn’t worth it. My mom even turned to me at one point (when the lady left to find a manager) and scolded me for trying to speak over her and told me that I wanted that coat so I will get it. Which really hurt my feelings because she wasn’t listening at all to what I was trying to say especially when I made it clear already that we don’t have to get it if it means making a huge scene.

In the end the lady finally managed to reach her manager and he arrives and charms the socks off my mom bc he’s 1, a tall handsome guy, 2, fluent native English speaker, and 3, gave her the damn discount. Fortunately the guy was kind to the employee too bc I think at least one of us would’ve started crying if he started berating her (either her or me bc I felt so fucking horrible about this). And guess what? It came out to a grand total of twenty dollars or something. It’s nothing to sneeze at but it’s also not worth 30 minutes of arguing and making everybody uncomfortable, especially when I literally offered to not even bother anymore with the coat and put it back on the rack.

After we walked out of the store my mom was still really upset and she turned to me and said she felt humiliated when I didn’t stand up for her, and that it’s not about the discount, it’s about “principles” or something. Which made me even more upset, because that wasn’t what I was trying to do and I don’t agree with the “principle” or whatever. I told her I was just trying to deescalate the situation. She still insisted that the woman was incompetent and she didn’t want to deal with incompetent new hires. In the end, I did get her to at least agree that it’s not worth arguing over a $20 discount when there are other solutions available such as just not buying it anymore.

So I guess I’ll ask: AITA for not siding with my mom in an argument over a discount at a department store?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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bomberqueen17 · 2 years

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Often the people doing "art/craft supply haul unboxing" style videos get those as a "gift" from whatever brand sells them so it's like. This is an ad and im glad if you're getting income from this somehow but also I cant trust this product that depends on me liking you and the stuff you make to make sales. It's the same thing with youtube channels that advertise for shit like betterhelp (but more insiduos! Bc these are predatory services or shit products but at least they're more upfront about being ads!)

I also watch lets play channels sometimes when I want to see gameplay of base/city builders before getting them. So it gets easy to see when a game is paying to be advertised bc youtube becomes a wall of Every Single Gaming Channel You've Ever Touched having the same thumbnail picture this week. The safest bet there is waiting a month and seeing how many channels made it a series that lasted and not one or two eps before we're back to Rimworld

Yeah that's-- another level of the Everything Is Ads, Influencer Culture thing. Sometimes there's an account I follow that I'd been sort of like.... I mean, parasocial relationships right, but I'd sort of mentally labeling them as a kind of peer/mentor, right? like not that we're close but that this is someone kinda on my level, but who knows a few more things, so i can take pointers from what they do, and share my results, and have a kind of like, peer-ish kind of relationship, though I'm usually aware that's aspirational on my part as I do my crafts so sparsely and seldom, so much of my free time being taken up in writing and like you know losing huge swathes of time to being ADHD or whatever--

and then they rock up with a paid promotion, or something, and I'm like oh neverminnnnd.

(Often it's like. A whole post about a project they did, and it looks so good! and wow! it was cheap! and then they're like Obligatory Disclosure! I was given these materials for free in exchange for my crafting a very labor-intensive thing out of them that I could then show off or ahem I mean my honest review! here's a coupon code to get your own!)

Can't Relate, guys. It's not like I'll unfollow or whatever necessarily.... but it's really. Well, it's hard. And I mean I'm usually glad for them, to have some kind of support or whatever, but boy it is always about the hustle isn't it.

But really what I’m objecting to is just this-- normalization of constant consumption. It’s so hard, when you struggle with impulsivity especially I think but I also really feel like Whomst Among Us Does Not-- you’re like no, it’s not normal to constantly want new things, and you’re disciplined with yourself, and try to really only buy things you’ll use or that you’ll really get enjoyment from, and then.... these social media personalities that you’ve got these parasocial relationships with and think of yourself as a peer with are just constantly acquiring

it makes it nearly impossible to establish an actual meaningful baseline of normal “how much stuff do I actually want/need” in your life!!!

#real life #social media #instafluencers #influencer culture #everything is ads

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khodorkovskaya · 1 year

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05.01.23

my parents are coming to my place tonight and im gonna surprise them with a three course fancy dinner! 😈 i love surprising people with gifts and nice things. it's the same feeling of mischief you would get if you were planning to prank someone but with better consequences. ive been chuckling to myself throughout the day like "heheheh they don't know what awaits them! mwahaha!"

i got two avocados on sale today and i have celery and left over lumpfish caviar. so for starters im gonna make some kind of fancy toasts i think. for the main dish im gonna make stir fried noodles with beef and vegetables bc my stepdad complains about not ever eating enough vegetables so he's gonna be v happy. i even bought wood ear mushrooms, his favourite! ahhh i just can't wait too see the look on his face when he's gonna see it! and for desert i got us strawberry swiss roll, my mum's gonna love it! im so excited!!!

anyway, isolating myself has been v fulfilling so far. ive been super burned out after the past couple of months. i have so many unopened messages on whatsapp and instagram and ive been ignoring all of my friends bc im just so tired... the only people i talk to are my bestie from france (who's taking a break from social media so i send her emails), my cousin and occasionally my zurich friend over messages and my parents irl. it's made me realise that the last time that i was alone with my own thoughts was when i was like what 13? enough of touching grass! i need to be alone and self reflect! bc all this time i was just so distracted by everything and everyone. and i really needed to stop letting things just happen to me and take a step back and think. and now is the perfect time to do that bc im working from home (and next month im gonna be working at the shop), i don't have to worry about B's needs and i don't have uni until mid february.

so i was thinking about why some people are obsessive and some aren't. maybe it has something to do with morals and values again. for example my london bestie has such a strong moral compass, i don't think ive ever met anyone else like that. ever since we were kids she'd always say things like "you don't do that" or "that's not how it's supposed to be". and ive always wondered how she knew these things. id pretend to be like her and also say "you don't do that" and pretend to be outraged at certain people's behaviours, but id never understand the why of any of it. she on the other hand always instinctively knew what was right and wrong, what should be done and what you "don't do". and i think that's why she fits in so well anywhere she goes. that's why she feels comfortable at her office job and can make friends. because it's what "you do". but i always feel like i need an explanation. and if im not given one then i do the things you're supposed to do but don't see any meaning in them and become unhappy.

it reminded me of how whenever we'd go for walks with B my mum and my bestie would often shake their heads in disapproval bc it's something "you don't do". my mum would often say "you can't just drop what you're doing and run to see him, you should value yourself". and i never understood what it meant. in my head it would be clear: B asks me to go for a walk and im not particularly busy and i enjoy walks with him => i say yes and join him.

this really stood out to me when we had a falling out with nik. we were in the middle of an argument in our groupchat and my bestie said something along the lines of "you don't do that" to him and he replied with "ok, i know you know what's right and what's wrong. it's just that in my mind, there's also what's logical and what's not.". and yeah, screw nik, but i think this message really shows the way people function. some instinctively know what's right and what's wrong, what you should and shouldn't do. and some need an explanation.

and back to the topic of obsession, my bestie is a very balanced person. she just instinctively knows things and with this knowledge she's never been drawn into any extremes. she's never been a hardcore die-hard fan of anything, she's never liked anything to the point of obsession. i, on the other hand, have been through i don't know how many obsessive phases. i always need to have a favourite thing in every single category of things. my notes app consists of endless lists of my favourite things: top 5 favourite foods (do i like chocolate better than cheese??), top 10 friends, list of my favourite family members etc etc. every single thing i engage with needs to be ranked and i can't just be chill about anything. i need to be consumed by what i consume, otherwise i don't feel it. and that includes love. i didn't just like B, i was obsessed. i was convinced that it was written in the stars, that every little coincidence we had was so much more than it was. id look at him and my head would start spinning.

maybe it's because some people are born empty and some are born full (born or brought up idk). ive always felt like an empty vessel that life just flows through. ive never had thoughts of my own or ideas i came up with by myself and didn't just steal from a book or a youtube video or while trying to act like someone else. and maybe that's why i become obsessed and feel the need to fill my natural emptiness with things i interact with. and others like my bestie, who are full with a natural understanding of life, don't have that much empty space in them to fill.

anyway, im finally in the process of developing thoughts of my own and trying to find my values. hopefully one day i'll be able to say "you don't do that" and really mean it and understand it. and make more valuable friends. and become a complete person.

#january

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rivercityrabbitsbro · 1 year

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God there's a short list of things that immediately fill me with frustration-induced-rage, and one of them is how I put a lot of thought into what I'm doing almost always, and the willingness of people to immediately assume I'm just dumb/careless/inexperienced.

For example, I will often phrase an email or request in a specific way as to show that someone's request was lazy and pushing the work off on to me, and a 3rd person often comes in and goes "You know we can just [do the work that that person was trying to push on to me]" like I don't know that.

An account manager sent an email with a client name as a subject line and "We're marketing this and being asked for details on all claims over $10k" Which lines of coverage? (there's like 10) Over how many years? (we've had them for 20 years) What kind of details? (the description or how the claims played out?) Do you have a list of those claims? When do you need it by? All things I asked, in more words, copying others in the dept bc they'd be involved.

My exec responds: We could just pull up the most recent loss reports in the file and check them

Yeah I know! I literally was doing exactly that as I was drafting my email because I like to give myself ammo when I'm making a point. I am obviously not going to wait for the response bc that hinges my work on when someone else gets me something. I could also check her files to see who specifically is asking to see what specific lines of coverage they're asking about. I could never speak to this person and still find a way to get every piece of information I'd need!

But the point of my email was not "I don't know what to do", the point of my email was "You are asking me do you a favor (implicitly on a short timeline), but you can't even do me the decency of providing the information I need to do so, therefore lengthening how much time I have to spend on this favor for you"

Like, the sales side of the company does this to us CONSTANTLY, and my dept just throws up their hands and goes "it's no use fighting it they're gonna make us do it anyway" and it's like.......haven't we been trying to prove how busy we are because quantity of claims doesn't begin to show our workload? Wouldn't correspondence showing how much work is being offloaded onto us by lazy managers go toward proving that? Like yes we might end up doing the work anyway, but the exchange is important.

And not just for paper trail reasons! It's helpful for in-person communication too! Because when someone comes complaining that something's not done yet, it's not just me listing off excuses and "I haven't had time" in a vacuum, it's me going "Well you didn't say it was an urgent request and you didn't actually provide me the list of things you need updates on, so I haven't gotten to it yet because I need an hour to set aside to compile the initial list". Whether or not I sent back questions on this SPECIFIC request, a history of me going "Sure I can do that, [itemized list of questions that are almost always the same]" on requests in the past is something I can defend myself with when allegations come in that I'm not doing my job.

And wouldn't you know it! An allegation was made recently that I wasn't doing my job, and this helped me defend myself.

Oh boy oh man it's almost like I'm not paranoid or "looking for problems", I'm just trying to lay the groundwork to defend myself and maybe even improve things down the line. What a concept!!!

#personal #I had to walk away from my desk bc my face was so red from how mad I got watching these email exchanges #once again righteous fury coming in as one of the only Angry feelings I feel #the same people who tell me I overthink everything also routinely assume I haven't had the most basic fucking thought about a thing #like if my mom went 'hey could you pick me up some groceries' 'sure do you have a list'#and my brother went 'we could go check their pantry ourselves'#yeah I sure could but if she's gonna ask for groceries shouldn't she give me the list instead of making me do inventory???#JESUS FUCK okay I'm calming down I just needed to vent

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enbyeddiediaz · 3 years

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i can see buck laying awake at night after the Daniel revelation thinking abt how that explains why he never felt loved at home when maddie wasn't there. how he never felt loved period if maddie wasn't there, and how it was that way until he met the 118 and even then you can tell it took a while for him to truly feel like he had a family there. and I can see him, laying there, staring at the wall or ceiling thinking abt how he fought for so long to feel loved and to feel safe, and how he does now, but he still has moments where he's like "do they really love ME. do they love ME or what I do for them. do they love ME or the person I pretend to be around them. do they love me at all?" bc while feeling that love and therapy help him believe and trust in it more often, that's still 26 years of searching for unconditional love from someone. 26 years of searching for wholehearted, overwhelming love. and it's not all going to be erased bc he has a family now, bc maddie is back in the picture permanently. I can see him laying awake at night wondering if he's really loved, or if everyone is pretending. and I can see him bringing it up to his therapist one day after weeks of having nights like this. and her telling him to tell his family bc they can't solve a problem they don't know about. and so the first person he reaches out to is eddie

he goes over one night, and eddie can tell something is up, eddie can always tell when it comes to buck. but buck is hesitating so eddie waits for him. buck knows eddie is waiting for him. and eventually, late that night, it all comes spilling out of him and he's crying and eddies on the verge of years but trying to hold it together for bucks sale before he goes "you belong here. you belong with us. we love you, and I'll tell you that as often as you need to hear it. I'll tell you until you stop doubting it" and now they're both crying even harder and buck just hugs eddie tight and whispers "thank you" and they both know he means "thank you for loving me wholeheartedly. thank you for understanding" and eddie wishes he could get out an "I love you" alongside that "we love you" but he's not sure if buck is ready to hear that. he's not sure if he's ready to say it. so he holds it in. and he waits for buck. and buck knows he's waiting for him

#yall im sorry im sad tonight so the rest of you have to be sad too #look. im projecting. but also. buck isnt going to be all sunshine and rainbows hes still going to have moments of doubt #he might always have moments of doubt #but maybe one day. he wont have to doubt anymore. maybe one day those few choice words will get him home #anyway. im sad #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 #911 fox #911 on fox #long posts from liz

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iraprince · 4 years

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hello! do you have any advice for switching from traditional art to digital? (i recently ran out of supplies so im relegated to my computer lol) i hope youre having a good day!

i sure do!

first off i really recommend clip studio paint, but i also recommend u wait for it to go on sale. it goes 50% off a few times a year, so imo it’s worth waiting, but it also is usually on sale for only a few days so u have to stay on top of it. they usually announce on twitter etc. the tools don’t make the artist and obviously it doesn’t Really matter what program u end up settling on, i’ve just been really pleased with CSP and i wanted to recommend it

second: nothing that u can do with digital art programs/tools is cheating and it took me way too long to really internalize + understand that. copy-pasting stuff instead of redrawing it, using symmetry rulers, using transform/ctrl+T to stretch or squash slightly off anatomy instead of starting over -- when i was first getting into digital i A. didn’t know u could do this stuff and B. felt weirdly guilty doing it once i figured it out, as if i was a worse artist for using the tools that are literally built into the software or that it was lazy or dishonest to do so. that, it turns out, is bullshit. any drawing is just a constant series of decision-making and a lot of digital tools just help u make or retract or edit those decisions faster than traditional does. it’s not better or worse, it’s just different, and it’s worth ur time to figure out which of those differences are the most convenient and useful. this stuff exists for a reason! use it! save ur wrists and ur patience and ur time!

figure out file organization early, because it’s something u don’t have to deal with irt traditional art and so it probably won’t come naturally, but it also makes ur life harder to have a desktop swarming with wip files that are all titled “kjsrhrfgdhgj.psd” or whatever. some ppl sort into folders by date; for me it works better to sort by content (i.e. i have folders for tvrn stuff, patreon stuff, different fandoms, dnd/ttrpg stuff, “misc ocs” for characters i don’t draw much and “misc fandoms” for one-off fanart that doesn’t merit its own folder, etc etc; this is what makes it easiest for me to find stuff, but ur system might end up different.) i admittedly still name my files keysmashes if it’s personal stuff rather than work/commissions, but at least it’s all sorted into a category where i can quickly find it again anyway

also, u can hybridize traditional and digital! i frequently like my traditional pencil lines better than what i can do digitally, so i often scan them in, turn them into lineart, and color digitally (here’s a tutorial on how i prep that). but even if u don’t have a scanner, a carefully taken phone photo with high contrast can still be used the same way. i tend to lay my sketchbook flat on the floor in front of a window, squat down and hold my phone as level as i can while i’m taking the pic, and then i blast it in my phone’s built in gallery editor (highlights/shadows and contrast) before sending it to myself and doing the same thing w tone curve/levels in csp. it’s not perfect, but it’s presentable, and it can be a good way to ease urself in if ur feeling frustrated w the learning curve on digital draftsmanship.

oh, and this tip is really small but it’s ended up being rly helpful for me: resist the urge to zoom in way past 100% scale view just bc u can. if there are times where u absolutely need to, sure, whatever, but there’s no point in regularly tweaking tiny things pixel by pixel at 250% zoom bc nobody who looks at ur art is gonna see that and ur just bloating ur own time spent on things and creating unnecessary stress for urself!! if 100% zoom doesn’t give u the control u want, that may just mean u need to work larger to begin with.

set up a comfortable workspace with a Good chair. look up proper posture and try to stick to it. i know we’re all gay and it sucks to sit in a chair properly but otherwise ur gonna hurt urself. take even more frequent breaks than u do when drawing traditionally! screen bad!

also, if ur tablet has a way to calibrate pressure, try that out. a lot of them are set in a way where you have to press really hard to get full line width and over time it can really seriously strain ur wrist; u can’t manually set pressure in traditional tools (besides like. using softer lead i guess lmfao) but u can with tablet pens and u should try it, bc if u can use a lighter touch overall it really goes a long way towards preventing injury in the long term.

this is all the stuff that came to mind immediately; i’m sure there are tons of basics i haven’t covered, depending on how much of a transition this is for u, but there are a lot of tutorials out there written by ppl more patient and more educationally-oriented than myself so you’d be doing a better service to urself seeking those out than if i were to try to clumsily emulate them lol. good luck + have fun!

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thepoodlepack · 3 years

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What's wrong with goldenpoodles? I'm genuinely curious because almost all of my dogs are mixed breeds and behave fine. So I'm curious if there's something else I'm missing

jeez this feels like bait but u kno what, you got me

alright, so it goes like this. the doodle really began with a guy in australia being like i need the temperament of a lab for a guide dog but these ppl are allergic to dogs, so i need a poodle bc they have hair, not fur. so he bred em together. years later he’s like damn that was a mistake.

now, why, exactly? alright so first of all he only needed that mix bc labs on average tend to adapt better to situations that are largely exclusive to service dog work than poodles do. i can go into what this means at a later date, but that’s basically how it is. but either way, people jumped on this creation and it kinda spiraled out of control. soon, poodles were being bred by everyone and every breed. suddenly, they were a marketing scam more then they were a dog breed.

oh theyre hypoallergenic! all of them, all the time cause zero allergies! look theyre so much better than poodles! theyre friendly and easy to train, not like poodles of course, just like labs! they’re better than labs bc none of them shed, ever! they’re super healthy bc breeding labs and poodles together wipes out all their health problems, of course!

lies, lies lies. the aussie guy, whose name i’m not going to look up bc i’m lazy but who you can find if you google creator of doodles, straight up says that even the first litter(s) of labradoodles he bred had puppies that the people he bred them for were allergic to. he very carefully tested the litter and the reaction the person had before placing a puppy that was not going to hurt them.

think of the punnet squares we all learned about in 5th grade science class. you draw the squares and one parent has two fur genes and the other parent has two hair genes and what do you get? well if you have four puppies, one might have hairhair and the next one might have hairfur and the next one might have furhair and the next one might have furfur. and so guess what? only hairhair pup is going to be the best choice for allergic people. additionally, you can see why the non-shedding thing can be bullshit, and that in particular is also a guessing game. you may be able to test allergy sufferers against the pups, but that does not necessarily mean they won’t shed. hairfur, for example, may be a good choice for some allergic people, but perhaps they’ve got just enough fur to shed anyway. also, lets look at salukis (and frankly, most long-haired sighthounds). salukis are still considered dogs with fur, not hair. they also still shed, even though it’s just a little. and yet they’re still considered good for allergy sufferers.

(ps poodles do actually shed. but they shed like humans shed. your hair comes out, doesn’t it? like, esp folks with long hair, aren’t people always complaining how you clog the shower drain? yeah, like that. ALSO obviously the situation is more complicated then super simple punnet squares and as an ex-groomer i have something to say about doodle coats but i’m going to save that for later, put a pin in it.)

oh and wait a hot minute there. i said best choice, didn’t i, not hypoallergenic. well, that’s because no dog is hypoallergenic. poodles, and a few other dog breeds, they have hair, like we do. but the thing is both humans and breeds with hair still produce the dander, though they’re different kinds. breeds with hair happen to produce the least amount possible that dogs can produce, which is why they’re a better choice for allergy sufferers, but that’s still not a guarantee. my roommate Dakota is allergic to dogs. if i don’t wash my dogs for an extended period of time (which has never happened, ever, in my life, idk what ur talking about), thus giving the chance for the dander my dogs still produce, he will have a very, very mild reaction when touching them. it can be countered by him washing his hands after touching them and also me just giving them a fucking bath, i need to stop forgetting, but still, there you go. ALSO people might not be allergic to dogs bc of their dander. they might be allergic to the saliva of dogs, which poodles or any other breed with hair still produces about the same as other dogs. so, yeah, not hypoallergenic, not at all.

the people who taut their hypoallergenic dogs for sale largely don’t do the testing required to check if they’re actually providing a dog to someone who won’t react to it. not acceptable at all.

so, labs are friendly and easy to train right? not at all like poodles, right? no. absolutely incorrect. some labs are friendly and easy to train. some labs, a lot of them when they’re puppies, are nightmare fuel. personally, i have a theory that everyone’s vision of labs in their heads are either a) service dogs or b) those old labs who are slightly pudgy (or morbidly obsess, which is a different topic) and who are graying in the face and just want to lounge around because they’re seniors now. alright, so here’s why thats bad. labs are a working breed. a retrieving breed. they’re supposed to be bulky and strong and driven. service dogs are highly trained, to a point that most pet dogs will never see, and if you see them with their actual disabled handler, they’ll probably be around 2.5 yrs of age and out of their most wild days. old labs are well. old. sleepy. maybe a bit achey. and well out of their most wild days. oh, and it’s the same type of thing with goldens by the way, the other most popular doodle type. poodles are also easy to train, especially if their parents have a decent temperament. they’re all about equal if you actually start training them when they’re puppies and just pay for some training classes, like everyone should. in the puppy classes i’m in right now, Euphoria is leaps and bounds ahead of doodles, goldens, and labs that are her age or older. I train her properly and she’s got amazing parents. that’s it, that’s the trick. not breed, not necessarily, and def not in this case.

I am once again going to say that labs and goldens are more often used as service dogs than poodles because of their adaptability, but it’s the ability to adapt to situations that most pet dogs will never have to worry about.

jeez this is a long post. i’ve still got more to cover too. alright, on to super healthy, or “hybrid vigor” as the nerds call it. uhh, it’s bullshit. thank u for ur time.

okay, but actually why on gods green earth would breeding two completely different breeds with little to no research make them super healthy? now i want to preface this with i’m (generally) pro-outcross projects. Euphoria’s dad is half mini poodle and half standard poodle, which isn’t technically an outcross bc all the variations are of the same breed, but if we’re going by genetic diversity alone minis and standards are different enough to actually be different breeds.

so, to be clear, outcrosses, given the proper thought and planning: good, results in healthier dogs (see: lua dals). randomly breeding two very different breeds together with no planning other than to sell the puppies to randos who won’t continue the outcross: bad. especially when you’re doing it to cash in and don’t health test at all, or don’t health test the major health problems with both breeds (if you’re doing an f2 breeding or anything like that). no the poodle’s health problems don’t get canceled out by the goldens or labs or whatever the other party’s health problems are, and vice versa. and yeah, i’ve looked at a lot of doodle breeder’s websites and yeah, most of them don’t health test at all, or at least don’t health test properly. do you know i own one doodle and currently live with another? yeah, i got them both from breeders and do you know how much health testing their parents got? if your answer is none, good job, you’ve been paying attention. in my defense, i was like 13, i didn’t know what i was doing.

alright, so those are the big points. this is kinda gonna be just... a mix of my other complaints. here we go, hope you’re ready for more. argument the first: i feel like it’s pretty disrespectful to reputable breeders. now, i actually have two reasons why that is. reason one: most reputable poodle breeders don’t want their breeding stock bred with other breeds, for various reasons. i’ve even met a few who used to be okay with it and then as the doodle scam got bigger and more out of control, they stopped being okay with it, even to the breeders who they had been fine with it in the past. that means a lot of doodle breeders out there have their breeding stock because they scammed poodle breeders into giving them pet quality, not breeding quality, dogs or because they’re getting their stock from non-reputable breeders. i also feel it’s disrespectful to breeders who are actually trying to create new breeds. quite frankly, a breed with the size, strength, and adaptability of a lab or golden that doesn’t shed and that has the train-ability of a poodle, lab, or golden sounds pretty interesting to me. did you know you can actually make that breed? and it wouldn’t be a cross with unpredictable... well, everything. it would actually be a true dog breed.

Look at Silken Windhounds and Biewer Terriers who began both development in the 1980s. Biewer Terriers were recognized by the AKC this year, and Silken Windhounds still haven’t been. And yeah, that’s the problem isn’t it? Making a real new breed takes a lot of time, planning, and care. People would rather just cash in. I think it’s sad and I think it’s disrespectful to the breeders who do work so hard to make actual new breeds.

and finally, unpin being an ex-groomer goddamnit. guess what? doodles are awful to groom! they’re terrible on the grooming tables because people want to have in both ways: they want a dog that doesnt shed at all and they want a dog who doesn’t need to be groomed. well guess what, that dog doesn’t exist and you can have it only one way. and also, bring back the goddamn punnet squares because a lot of doodles have awful coats. if you have hairfur and furhair over there, guess what, their coat fucking sucks bc it’s not meant to be like that. it wants to mat bc hair but also it wants the mats to slide out bc short-ish fur but its too thick for the mats to slide out bc thick hair. and yes its more complicated then this and that means its often more awful then this. its awful, it makes me want to cry. and maybe it’s slightly easier to get away with it with a shorthaired dog like a lab, or, you know what, even a golden, okay, even a slightly long haired dog like a golden but people are doodling akitas? border collies? bernese fucking mountain dogs? i am crying. i am crying right now as i type this.

lets do a sum up to this disaster of a post. look, i don’t go out there attacking or yelling at every doodle or every doodle owner i see, alright? or any of them really. i might engage in conversation to one that’s interested, but that’s it. i love my doodly Isis, okay? shes tiny and she’s adorable and I love her more than life and i will never, ever get another doodle. i don’t like the way they’ve gotten so prolific, i don’t like the reasons they’re now widespread, and i don’t like almost all of the people that create them, including the ones i’ve literally given my (parents) money to in the past. i wish they were better but i just cannot approve of them, especially not in the environment they exist in now. that said, i do support them in their original use case as assistance dogs, and i do not care about them if they’re shelter dogs.

#long post #anti doodle #text #my post #yes this took me like an hour #yes i do hate myself for it #Anonymous #oh anon im being grumpy mostly for comedy thats only funny to me #you're fine as long as you werent trying to bait me

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itaruchi · 4 years

Text

Obey me shopping date w the brothers hc + bonus lingerie store

Some obey me hc I made a while back

context: the brothers shopping date w/ mc or their s/o

Lucifer

both of you always wanted to go out on a shopping date however, he is kinda busy so it probably took longer before you two finally were able to go out shopping.

he doesn’t want others to know especially his bros cuz he thinks they’ll ruin your date.

(just like from a text in his card i forgot) he asks you to sneak out too right after he leaves so that it won’t be suspicious

After that, you finally met him at the mall and you two went on your shopping date.

he glanced at the lingerie store and now he has that devilish smirk on his face again

you were nervous cuz you have an idea what’s he thinking,, you bet he bought you some of those and he said he wants to see those on you

and other stuff you guys would probably need for alone time

Satan

he’s the one who asked you out on a shopping date

you were so happy and excited, you two often go out on coffee dates and stuff but this time, it will be a shopping date!

“do you need some help with those?” offers to carry ur stuff for u <3

as u two walk you spot a lingerie store

satan wondered what were u looking at, so he followed ur gaze

“do you want to check that one out y/n?”

u obvs didn’t see that one coming

u are now blushing, and told him “if it’s not too much....”

you bet he says it isn’t, and now the two of u entered

and of course u tried on some,, dude’s a fan of the lace ones, and he ended up picking one for you.

“you know, y/n...” he gets in real close, and whispers to your ear yes as the two of you are walking.

“since i helped you out there, you wouldn’t mind to pay back the favor sometime, would you?”

Mammon

let’s be real, you were surprised when he asked you out on a shopping date.

“u-umm... y/n you wouldn’t happen to...uh-- er, well you just looked so lonely so now i’m doing you a favor! be grateful! you’ll be going on shopping w me!”

you: but i didn’t—

but before u could finish, he heads off he was probably denying and fighting w/ Levi about how he ain’t a ‘tsundere’

ends up being the one who buys a lot, and even tries to ‘bargain’ at some shops

you facepalmed a lot that day

but he bought u something.... he gave it to u when u two got home

u were feeling soft and shit but then he goes the typical “be thankful the great mammon took time to get you that!”

which sends u rolling ur eyes but smiling bc u were actually happy <3

Levi

it was ur rest day, u have no classes nor schoolworks. this day was supposed to be your ‘pamper’ day for yourself

but nah, levi had other plans

he barges into ur room early in the morning “GET UP NORMIE, WE’RE GOING SHOPPING”

you fell down your bed face first

“I SAID GET UP! WE’RE GOING TO BE LATE! THE GAME I’VE BEEN WANTING FOR SO LONG is on sale and they don’t do deliveries!”

he leaves you in your room, feeling like shit but u mutter something but you know you have no choice but to come

it ended up as the two of you waiting in a long ass line outside of a game store

“ugh, this is your fault y/n! If we weren’t late, i could’ve been playing right now!” insert more complains etc and how iTs sO uNfAir

needless to say it’s as if you were with a child, couple of hrs later he buys the game he wants and the two of u went home

he texts u “yo, come to my room” and so you did, the two of you ended up playing all night.

Asmodeus

you two actually have the ‘shopping dates’ scheduled

he tells u in advance, and maybe he keeps reminding you that actually... “don’t forget our shopping date y/n!” a lot of times in a day

maybe bc he’s scared no one would carry his shopping bags for him

but yes. that’s usually how it goes. you two shop ‘til your feet are about to give up

“y/n, would you be a dear and hold this for meeee~?” he says, not bothering to let u answer as he shoves all the shopping bags to you

you see a chair inside a store and it’s as if the gods heard your prayers

as expected he becomes a lil too extra and buys things he doesn’t need

and that goes for you as well. he actually bought you a lot of new dresses, outfits etc. even tho you insisted you weren’t going to use it

but shopping dates with asmo are actually fun, it’s just u become some kinda guard each time lol

Beelzebub

you two were just hanging around in your room then his stomach grumbles lol

“you hungry?” you asked the obvious. he nods and you laugh

you invited beel to eat outside, and maybe hang while u guys are at it

you guys couldn’t decide where to eat tbh

so the first restaurant you see it is!

but wait there’s more. i mean duh, it’s beel

it ended up as you guys eating in at least ten restaurants

you were already full after the first one so it’s just beel eating

but you wanted to keep him company soooo.... you just stood there like some lovestruck teenage girl watching her bf eat for the first time

when you guys got home, he thanked you for accompanying him

he was about to give you a goodnight kiss

but his stomach grumbled once again

he blushes in embarrassment, but you just laughed and you bet you ordered food and had a movie marathon that night.

Belphegor

“Belphie, let’s go” zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

oh yes you two planned a shopping date but you’re struggling to get him off the bed.

but when he saw the look on your face, he couldn’t resist so dude got up fast LMAO

he was kinda complaining while the two of you were shopping

there was a time where he fell asleep waiting for you

you would’ve thought “aww <3″ but then you remembered you guys were in public, so you woke his ass up

you felt bad for making him wait so you told him you two were going home.

when you got home, you tried the lingerie you bought again

cue: someone opening the door

it was belphie, he stood there in shock but his face was RED AF

you are as red as a tomato as well, but you asked why was he here

he said he was going to sleep in your room but now that he saw you, you guys now have other plans

#obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me one master to rule them all #devildom #obey me headcanons #lucifer headcanons #asmodeus headcanons #satan headcanons #leviathan headcanons #mammon headcanons

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gra-sonas · 3 years

Note

Hey! I hate to ask this, you already do so much for us! But would you mind just a tiny recap of Vlamis’ live from last night? You don’t have to go into a ton of detail or anything, I just saw that it was a half hour long. I have a weird anxiety thing that keeps me from watching lives and stories for the most. Still haven’t even been able to work myself up to watching the vlamburn one as much as I’d love to! 🙁

Either way, thank you for everything!

Okay, nonnie. I went and watched the whole thing again and wrote you a detailed account of what’s been said. I’ll link the live again, then you can watch here if you want to. Or not. Up to you. 🤗 Hope this helps. 💕

youtube

Brushing his teeth and flossing for 3 minutes while talking.

800 new follower lately “where have you been before?”

“Do you do anything to your hair at night?” He adds Moroccan hair oil in the morning, nothing at night.

“What’s your favorite of the drop?” He hasn’t seen everything from the drop (like the COSMIC tie-dye) bc he’s in Santa Fe. He loves the COSMIC and MALEX embroidered things (“so subtle”) bc they are in Vlamburn’s handwriting, he loves the Manesqueeze shirt bc you can make Alex and Michael kiss by putting your wrists together. He *loves* the candle (there’s one burning on his bedside table), the silky PJs are great, but he can’t decide on just one favorite thing.

“How’s Jesa’s sanity?” She needs like 3 weeks of sleep. He explains, that while we *are* the Vlambase, the Vlambase merch company’s just Jesa and Vlamis. Jesa has a team, but all the day-to-day things, ideas, emails/customer service (Jesa), the newsletter (Vlamis). They hadn’t collaborated with anyone before Tyler, so working with him was a new experience.

One fan mentions how they wanted to buy stuff but couldn’t. Vlamis says that he’s been there, and when he wanted something in the past he couldn’t afford, he started putting away a Dollar a day.

“Thought on One Direction?” Vlamis is a Harry Styles guy. “Harry Styles’ swagger is next level!”

“What do you think about Russia? Will Vlambase merch be available here?” Talks a bit about how annoying things are with shipping companies, says they wanted to protect themselves for the holidays, and now that the Christmas rush is over, some shipping options have become available again.

“Who came up with MANESQUEEZE” He ponders about it, and settles on Jesa. It was Vlamis’s ides to put tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves so that they can kiss tho. And Tyler came up with the idea to put a “toupee” on his head (in a previous drop, the NEVER LOOK AWAY design had tiny Alex and tiny Michael on the sleeves, but poor Alex was bald) for the design.

Someone got a MALEX pin and the candle. He knows the pin sold out fast, and he feels bad about that. They want everyone to get everything they want, but it’s difficult to make proper calculations how well an item will sell. The pandemic made things even harder. Like the PJ sets. Normally, they would wait until the sale ends and see how many sets were actually ordered, but during the pandemic, stock listings have been changing dramatically from day to day, so they had to pre-order the PJs and robes to make sure they had a certain number at their disposal. He said that they “overshot” on a couple of things, but ultimately sales have been great, and he appreciates that.

“I’m excited to make the MANESQUEEZE doodles kiss bc I do that with the NEVER LOOK AWAY shirt” Vlamis jumps up and shows his closet that’s full of Vlambase merch items.

“Why am I here, it’s almost 3am” He mentions that he’s been staying up until 4 in the past couple of days, but he has to be on set in 7 or 8 hours.

“Hello, just wanted to let you know that I got a tattoo for you” Vlamis asks for a photo and to be tagged.

“Kyle the packer [Vlamis’s roomie KA, who works in the warehouse when a new drop is ready for shipping]” Vlamis says they’re working him to death.

“Please save this live” He doesn’t know whether he’ll save it. Thinks the one with Tyler was important, but since it’s just him, he doesn’t think it’s important.

“I followed Jesa, Jesa is the real MVP” Vlamis says that Jesa is “a beast, and best in the game”. Quickly explains who Jesa is, and that she’s his partner in the Vlambase merch company. He mentions that she recently called him with an idea for Valentine’s Day, and he was like “Jesa, we need to relax!” But she loved the idea. She’s a big fan of RNM and the characters (and Tyler). “Jesa’s amazing.”

“What about new Soli art [Soli’s the artist who created the Boys Will Be Boys art for a previous drop]?” Vlamis smiles. “What about new Soli art. I like that idea. 😏“

“Your house [in New Mexico] is so cute.” Vlamis says thank you and shows the ceiling of the house (which he likes best). “Santa Fe is dope!”

“I adore your teeth” *shows his teeth* Says he had to wear braces (some even adjustable)

“I could’ve used my birthday money to buy something but I forgot” 🤨 << Vlamis’s face. “How you you forget, man?”

“Back to Twitter after this live” He mentions that he’d just been on Twitter before the live.

He got retweeted by Mountain Dew and loves it.

“I’m from Australia and hope my merch arrives before winter” Vlamis says he hopes shipping will be fast.

“Love the Valentines” They’re not actually Valentines, hence they’re “Love Notes”. Vlamis considers doing them not just around Valentine’s Day.

“You catch any of the CW shows returning this month?” “Might have to” But he knows what he’ll be catching on the 12th. “Prodigal Son, baby!”

“Where did you get the Game Boys?” Those are his Game Boys. He has a Game Boy Advanced and a Game Boy Color.

“How do you feel about Forlex?” *scoffs* 😒 “Yeah”

“So excited for the robe!” Vlamis gets excited. “The robes and the PJs are so comfy!” Talks about how it’s a bit weird, bc they don’t make them themselves.

Several people mention that their closet looks like his closet bc of all the merch and he loves that.

“How do you feel about Forlex” *gets agitated* “Why are you asking me this? Don’t do that to me, alright?” *softer* “Don’t do that.”

“How are you doing?” He’s doing very well. Very relieved that eh sale went well. This drop was like 3-4 months of work, the night before the sale felt like an entire month, too. Jesa and Vlamis Facetimed for more than 5hrs. They set up the website, and that’s how the glitch with the GIVE ME MALEX OR GIVE ME DEATH shirts and poster happened. They made a mistake and only noticed after the website went live.

“Do you know when S3 will air?” No, he thought it might’ve been sooner, but apparently not.

“I love your poetry from the last drop so why no poems this time?” He writes poems when he’s inspired, he hasn’t written a poem in a while. He’s currently preparing to direct his first movie in June 2021, and he’s been very focused on that.

“The Meet & Greet day changed.” Filming schedule changed bc they had snow, the schedule’s changing constantly. He’ll be set all day tomorrow (well, today, Jan 11) from 8am until 8 or 9pm. Sometimes they might even wake up in the morning and learn that the schedule’s been changed.

“You could talk about nothing and we’d still watch.” He doesn’t want to talk about nothing, wonders if anyone has any questions about the sale.

“I’m so excited about the robe. I was going to buy more but I’m broke.” He says we should be responsible.

Someone’s still waiting about their Black Friday stuff, but he says it’s the shipping company, not them.

“Vlamentines" He *loves* that, thinks it’s a good pun.

“Gotta support Aurora.” Always. 🥰

“Jealous Guerin in S3?” You’ll see, you’ll see.

“I placed 3 orders, last one last night. Give me Malex or give me death.” He loves it. He also mentions, that they’re working hard on figuring out how to combine orders in the future so people don’t have to pay for shipping several times. They just can’t do that logistically at the moment.

“Real talk, how often do you check your DMs?” He says, that some people might’ve noticed that he occasionally likes random photos on people’s IG pages. When that happens, it’s a sign that he read someone’s DM. He feels bad when he checks his mentions with a delay, and people’s stories have already vanished after 24hours. He sometimes doesn’t get to checking DMs for a week.

“Will we ever get the original pic of the kiss recreation?” *smiles* *waggles his eyebrows* “Maybe in the morning”

“So happy the Trevor Project was chosen for this merch drop!” He’s very happy, too. According to him, it was a no-brainer. Tyler’s worked with them in the past, so it made even more sense. They wanted to make sure that Tyler felt very strongly about wherever they’d be donating.

People urge him to go to sleep. “You want me to go to bed?”

“Why is your merch not available in India?” *deep breath* “It should be, it’s ridiculous. Unbelievable.”

“Your poetry was awesome.” He appreciates the praise and promises to write some more poetry.

Someone asks whether the movie he’ll be directing in June will be a comedy, but he says it’s the opposite. He’s mentioned in the past that Aurora and him will both act in the movie, but apparently he forgot about that. He doesn’t want to jinx the movie and doesn’t know how much he should reveal just yet. Talks a bit about 5 Years Apart.

Someone mentions that it’s Jeanine’s birthday on January 14th.

“Do (or don?) a face mask, Vlamis.” He refuses. Mentions his friend and roommate Spencer Waldner, who makes face masks.

“If there’s leftover merch, will you do another sale?” He says that most things are actually sold out bc they use Blank Clo’s blanks and will only make what’s been ordered. They might try to restock some pins tho, bc they went so quickly.

“USPS are a joke” He defends them. “They’re a public service, they’re trying hard, guys.”

“You should do a Vlambase drop with the Real Vlamis [a.k.a. Jeanie]” He’s excited and thinks it’s a good idea and asks if anyone’d be interested.

Someone congratulates him on directing his first movie. He points out that he’s directed before (Making It, a 3-part web series, it’s on YouTube).

“Would you ever come to Australia Comic Con?” He’d love to. Mentions that he’s supposed to be in Paris in May for a convention, but he’s not sure whether that’s gonna happen considering how things are currently going with the pandemic.

Some more talk about 5 Years Apart.

Circles back to doing a merch drop with Jeanine. People like the idea.

“Please save this live.” After an IG update, things have changed and he doesn’t know how to do it. In the past he had the option to save it [for 24hrs], now he can only upload it to IGTV.

“$30 shipping to Australia hurts my soul but I did it anyway.” He appreciates that and mentions, that he lived in Australia for 6 months in the past.

“Sing some Bright Eyes” He thinks his singing would hurt people’s ears.

Jesa Joy pops up in the chat and urges him to go to bed.

“Jesa is yelling at you.” Vlamis says that Jesa’s a “yeller”, and that she has a tattoo that says “Don’t yell tho”. He admits that Jesa often yells for a good reason. “I need to be yelled at sometimes.”

Someone asks him to accept a request to join his live. He says he’s pretty tired.

He says hello to someone from Germany (not me btw :P) “What’s up, Germany ✌️”

More people ask him to sing, but he says he cannot sing. He says it’s not like a joke or him being modest, he straight up can’t sing and is a horrible singer.

“Will there be a sequel to 5 Years Apart?” Maybe a sequel called “10 Years Apart” (he’s joking and visibly tired)

“Should I buy anything before the sale ends?” Yes.

Jesa Joy’s from Michigan, and Vlamis’s grandma’s from Middlesborough, Kentucky.

“Is Tyler singing again?” He doesn’t know. “I hope so. Love that kid’s voice” (Tyler’s 3.5 years older than Vlamis :P)

He’s getting sleepy and will read a little bit before bed. Considers drinking some Mountain Dew.

“Do you take design ideas.” Sure. Sometimes he sees design ideas from people they’ve been working on for months, but he’s gonna “steal” an idea from someone, he’ll tell them. He’ll steal it, though.

“Are you still reading SAGA?” He read the first one and is half-way through the second. He’s currently reading a book called “My First Movie” by Stephen Lowenstein. “How cliché.” Aurora got it for him.

Purple Skittles are his favorite. Purple everything.

“Your girlfriend’s the best girlfriend.” She is, she really is.

Asks Jesa Joy whether he should go to bed now.Even though it’s late, he’s hungry. Considers eating something. People tell him to go to bed.

He asks “Should I get naked and put on the PJs?” *waggles eyebrows* “I’M KIDDING, YOU’RE SICK. YOU’RE ALL DISGUSTING.” xD

“Don’t eat!” He laughs.

Says goodbye and says that Jesa’s posted a surprise picture.

“Any advice for aspiring actors?” Tells them to make their own stuff bc no one’s gonna hire them. (He’s being sarcastic). “It’s dark, but it’s what you need to hear.”

“Okay, love you guys. Thank you again! It was our best sale yet. Means a lot to me. Means a lot to Tyler. Us doing so well might mean that Tyler will work with us again. So I really appreciate it. Okay, I love you all.”

Jesa promises to post the pic in 4 minutes. He’s excited. “See, I got her to do it! The picture is kind of ridiculous.”

*pretends to take off his shirt, stops halfway through* “Noooooo, noooooo, noooooo!”

*throws kiss* “Love you guys, good night.”

#michael vlamis #vlambase #mgv ig #mgv interviews #nonnie asks

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spinbitchzu · 3 years

Text

citrus kisses

Darling, you don’t need to say what you mean, ‘cause your kisses taste like tangerines. Aka: cole’s love language is tart and sweet and reminds Kai of things he thought he’d lost.

hey uhhh so. I don’t write ninjago fic often but apparently when i do, it’s about the inherent romanticism of peeling an orange and also action-oriented love languages. anyway you know the drill. lavashipping, a bit over 2k words. unbeta’d bc we die like men.

The oranges that grew in Ignacia grew in huge groves.

It’s one of Kai’s only memories with his whole family: walking between his parents in the long aisles stretching between the lines of trees, Nya’s tiny, chubby hand clasped carefully in his own as she toddled along beside him. The smell of oranges was everywhere, and that day they picked enough to last them for weeks and weeks.

He can still recall his dad’s hands braced around his ribs as he hoisted Kai up to pick a Valencia orange bigger than his head from a high branch, eyes squinting against the bright sun on his face. He’d felt such pride that day, as he carried his treasure around for all to see.

He remembers summers of frothy fresh-squeezed orange juice in the morning, afternoons of fragrant orange cake, and evenings of carefully-partitioned segments that exploded juice on his tongue. His mom used to make ambrosia for Saturday morning breakfast, the orange slices piled high with coconut shavings and thick, fluffy whipped cream. She’d scold him when he peeled the oranges himself; his forceful little thumbs always dug too far into the flesh and sent the juice squirting everywhere. Instead, she clucked her tongue and peeled it for him with easy, deft movements while he sucked the stickiness off his fingers.

Those days—patchworks of hot nights and sunshine through the kitchen windows and the smell of citrus on his mother as she leaned in to kiss him goodnight—they’re days Kai can hardly remember the older he gets.

After his parents disappeared, no one took Kai and Nya to the Valencia groves; no one whipped the cream for ambrosia; no one lifted him to the highest branches for the best oranges. He simply had to wait until he was tall enough to reach them himself.

He doesn’t think about those memories very often, and Nya was so young, he doubts she remembers it at all. It’s not like he ever gets a summer off to return home either, so instead he lets the memory fade until it’s almost entirely forgotten. He locks it in the part of his brain that he’s sectioned off because it’s too painful to keep clinging to when things were that good. It’s okay.

The past tastes like oranges and coconut cream, and Kai has left it behind.

...

Kai forgets why they’re making a stop over Ignacia, but it just so happens that the nearest rural area place for them to moor is over the Valencia groves he had nearly forgotten about.

He stands at the front of the ship, leaning over the railing with his chin propped up on his pillowed arms to study the trees extending in every direction, the dark leaves bejewelled with not-quite-ripe January oranges. The sun overhead is more of a pale, cold disk, and Nya is somewhere below-deck, but it makes him melancholy anyway.

Footsteps approach from behind him—heavy but soft: Cole. He leans over the railing beside Kai, bracing his forearms against the wood as he surveys the landscape. “Hey. Whatcha doin’ out here, stranger?”

“Just lookin’,” he murmurs back. He hums to himself. “Did you know I used to come to this grove with my family as a kid?”

“I didn’t even know you liked oranges,” Cole replies, giving him a sideways glance. He smiles when Kai glances back, dark eyes crinkling. “Do you want to go down now? I’m sure we could grab a few and no one would miss ‘em.”

“Nah, that’s alright,” Kai says with half a grin. “They’re not ripe. And I don’t like oranges that much anyway. Too hard to peel. They just made me think about—things I hadn’t let myself think about for a while.”

“What kind of things?” Cole asks, nudging him with an elbow.

The touch grounds him and he’s grateful for it. He shrugs in a way that’s neither here nor there. “Just things. Home, I guess. My life? Before all the...ninja stuff.”

“Is that a good thing?” Cole tilts his head. In this light, his eyes turn from obsidian to sunlight through whiskey as he waits for an answer.

Kai makes a contemplative noise. “I don’t know. Hurts less than I expected, after everything. It’s bittersweet.” He sighs then, shoulders falling with the motion. “It really is making me miss oranges, though. I don’t know why I lied before—I really do like them.”

He looks back at the groves below and misses the look Cole gives him—measured and curious.

“What about you, do you like oranges?”

“Some. The sweet ones.”

“You’d like these ones, then,” Kai tells him, cheeks rising as he smiles. “The oranges from Ignacia are the biggest, sweetest ones around. They’re good just by themselves, but my mom made a mean ambrosia with them.”

“I bet Zane could replicate the recipe if you told him what it was,” Cole replies.

Kai just shrugs. “Maybe so. He’s sharp like that.”

They fall silent. Kai can physically feel Cole worrying about him and his rare bout of melancholy, so he squares his shoulders and musters up a grin. “Hey, Cole, you—,”

“You don’t have to,” is what Cole interrupts him with, paired with a weighted look that settles around him like a blanket. “I don’t mind the quiet. You’re allowed to, Kai.”

All the feigned bravado drains out of him. Kai stares at him for a second and wonders when Cole got so good at gauging his moods. There’s so many words unspoken inbetween what he says and that earnest, draping look in his eyes and Kai kind of aches with it.

“Okay,” he says instead, shoulders slowly falling. His chin dips to rest on his crossed forearms again and he leans into it when Cole slips as arm around him. “Okay.”

The nippy January wind dances around them, stirring their hair and whipping at their gis, but Kai tips his head against Cole’s shoulder and feels warm down to his toes.

...

“Holy crap, what the hell did you do?” Kai can’t help asking a week later, as Lloyd and Zane walk into the kitchen carrying groceries.

“There was a sale on tangerines at the grocery store,” Zane answers primly, setting his paper bag on the counter. “I thought it prudent to take advantage of it.”

“We have like a hundred pounds of these things,” Lloyd adds, setting his own bag down. “We’re going to be eating tangerines until we get old and grey.”

“Zane, man, you know I love a sale as much as the next guy, but this is a little overboard,” Cole says as he comes in, two more bags of tangerines hoisted on his shoulders. Kai does not stare, thank you very much, as much as he’s been finding it kind of hard to avoid when it comes to Cole and lifting things recently.

“Proper intake of vitamin C is important in preventing scurvy,” Zane replies, though he’s blinking the way he does when he’s getting embarrassed. “It’s a common illness in sailors.”

“Does that still apply if the ship can fly?” Lloyd wonders.

“Or if we’re in the twenty-first century?” Kai adds wryly, eyebrows high.

“I’m sure we’ll find some way to finish them all,” Cole pipes up. “Don’t worry about it, Zane.”

“I was not.” Zane turns away to put away the rest of the groceries while Kai and Cole exchange an amused look. As he bustles back and forth, Kai grabs a tangerine from the bag behind him and turns it over in his hands, studying the way the light catches on the dimpled rind.

“Hey,” Kai says quietly, leaning across the kitchen counter. “Did you do this?”

Cole just shrugs with a crooked grin. “I didn’t do anything. You know Zane and sales. Can’t resist ‘em.”

“You did,” Kai deduces, eyeing his teammate’s reddening ears. He feels his expression soften. “You didn’t have to.”

“Maybe I wanted to,” Cole says in response. He reaches over Kai, coming very, very close, until their noses are close enough to brush. His eyes are very dark and very close and Kai would very much like to kiss him right now.

“Um, uh,” Kai says, very eloquently.

“Not in the kitchen, please,” Zane calls from the pantry, because he hasn’t a romantic bone in his body (or any bones, to be fair to him).

Cole just grins and pulls back, displaying the tangerine he’d grabbed from behind Kai with a flourish. “I’m heading to the training deck. See you around, Hot Stuff.”

“R-right,” he mumbles (like an idiot), fighting the heat settled in his cheeks. He watches Cole go and feels distinctly like an opportunity has sailed over his head.

...

Cole smells like oranges these days.

Kai only notices because that isn’t his normal smell, which is much more organic soaps and something earthy and fresh. It’s a smell that clings to the hoodies Kai keeps pilfering from his closet—comforting in its familiarity.

The abrupt invasion of tangy citrus makes him do a double take the first time he smells it. And then he reaches into the pocket of the hoodie and finds a tangerine. It’s store bought, with a little sticker on the side, and it’s not exactly a strange sight for any reason, but it sort of confounds him.

“Hey,” he says, walking into the kitchen, the object of confusion held gingerly in his hand. “Is this a tangerine?”

Cole looks up from where he’s making a sandwich and raises an eyebrow. “Is that my hoodie?”

“I asked first,” Kai replies quickly, before he has time to pink up.

“I mean, yeah, five points for powers of deduction,” Cole says cheekily. “Congratulations, it’s a tangerine. We gotta finish them somehow, don’t we?”

“I—yeah,” Kai says absently. Cole holds out a hand for it and he tosses it over wordlessly, before he even thinks too much about it.

“You said they’re hard to peel, right?” Cole asks, digging his nails into the rind. He peels it in the shape of a flower and then splits the orange in half with his thumbs to hold out to Kai. “Here.”

Kai looks down at the segment being offered to him in an open palm and then back at Cole with his earnest, crinkly-eyed smile, and feels something stutter fatally in his chest.

“Thanks,” he manages to say, as his heart cracks open to let sunshine stream all in, filling his ribcage with warmth.

He bites into the fruit and feels his mouth fill with juice and thinks about how his mother used to peel oranges when he was too clumsy to and then about how Cole leaves tangerines in the pockets of the hoodies he knows Kai will steal and peels them for him in the shape of a flower, even though it turns his nails all yellow. He thinks of it so hard he forgets to make a face that doesn’t show about seven years of adoration on it and when he looks back at Cole, he’s already looking back with realization blazing across his expression.

“Kai?” he asks, voice wavering as his throat bobs with his nervous gulp.

“Yeah,” he agrees, and then grabs Cole by the collar of his shirt and kisses him, soft and open-mouthed, across the kitchen island. He’s so filled up with sweet oranges and sunlight and the heat of Cole’s skin that he forgets to even be afraid of this, as much as it’s frightened him in his fantasies. He stops being afraid of it altogether when Cole sighs into his mouth and cards a hand through his hair.

When they finally draw back, Cole’s pupils are blown huge and dark and he’s looking distinctly Kissed with a capital K. Kai would very much like to continue that endeavor.

“You taste like oranges,” Cole chuckles as he tugs Kai around the island to pull him closer.

You taste like home, he wants to say, but then Cole leans over him to cup his jaw and kiss him breathless, and Kai decides to let it go unspoken. There are more important things to attend to.

…

In the early summer, Cole and Kai negotiate with the others for a three-day vacation in early June. They drive in a rented car to the Valencia grove outside Ignacia and pick enough oranges to last the ship for weeks. Cole boosts him on his shoulders to help him reach the huge oranges at the tree tops and they laugh the whole time, chasing each other through the orchard and trading citrus kisses. Kai wonders if it’s possible to burst with happiness.

“I’m sick of eating oranges,” Lloyd complains when they come home bearing the (literal) fruits of their labor, newly sun-tanned and smiling.

“Really?” Kai tilts his head, considering. “Seems to me like I can never get enough of ‘em.”

“Was that some sort of romantic metaphor?” Lloyd asks with a wrinkled nose. “Gross.”

Cole laughs from where he’s watching and sidles up from behind to rest his big hands on Kai’s hips.

“Yeah,” Kai says affectionately. “Gross.”

“Not in the kitchen,” Zane calls from the next room, but Kai just leans back against Cole and closes his eyes to drink in the moment.

It’s worth it, he decides. All the fighting. All the losing. All the danger. It’s worth it to eat oranges in the kitchen with people he loves.

“What are you thinking about?” Cole teases, his voice rumbling low in his chest against Kai’s back.

“Nothing,” he says with a smile, opening his eyes. “I just love oranges.”

#ninjago #lego ninjago #ninjago kai #ninjago cole #lavashipping #ninjago lava #my writing #I can't believe I actually finished something for this fandom #holy shit #anyway!!! please look!!!!! please look at it!!!#I hope you like it :))#ft. cameos by #ninjago zane #ninjago lloyd

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moskaisley · 4 years

Text

migraine pt.3 | chronic

gif: @logan-solo

rating: mature

word count: 3k

warnings: cursing, suggestive language, fluff but also ANGST, jealous!mando aka my favorite kind

a/n: this literally took so long to write bc i basically changed the last half of this fic, but i’m rly happy with the results. there was a lot i wanted to include about life before din left, and i thought i’d put them in separate like one shots, but i figured that it would be include in the main story too. this is basically like an anime recap episode LMAO. enjoy!! thanks for the love <3

summary:

“But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives.”

When you and the Mandalorian existed in another time, another place.

parts 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

ao3 link / masterlist

Dreams these days never really consisted of anything new. Old memories played in your head like a holovid, both the good and the bad. Tonight, they were filled with him.

In the beginning, the two of you never really acknowledged what it was.

You fucked only a few more times after the cockpit. Business always came first, of course, and sex wasn’t a regular occurrence. But when the tension (often mixed with the adrenaline of bounty hunting) became too much to handle, you were all over each other. Most of the time, you were in either of each other’s bunks, and you only did it in the cockpit when you couldn’t bother to go down the ladder. At first, you chalked it up to strictly satisfying physical needs. With the two of you in such close quarters, it only made sense. The aftermath often involved getting dressed and cleaned up in silence. There would be an occasional joke or two, but the discussion usually steered itself towards the next mission.

But slowly and languidly, there was a sense of tenderness that began to bleed into the crevices of your daily lives. Your hands would linger on each other longer. He seemed to loosen up around you, joke around and indulge you in conversation. It was such a stark contrast to his menacing, stoic warrior demeanour he used when rounding up bounties.

Once, you found yourself too distracted and flustered to even spar with him.

“At this rate, you’ll never win a match against me,” he poked, legs straddling your waist as he pinned your arms down

“Oh, shut up,” you huffed, irritated. He had won against you using the same move, twice.

You’d never tell him, but your eyes were definitely indulging over the build of his body, imagining the way his bare muscles flexed or his lips moved against yours.

Squirming against him, you hiss, “Off, Mando.”

He chuckles and your chest tightens. I bet his real voice sounds like heaven.

“I dunno, I think I like you like this.”

He studies you under him, helmet tilting sideways watching your chest heave up and down. A wave of heat washes over you at the thought of tearing off his mask and pulling him down for a kiss. Mando lightly laughs again and you swear you’re going to fucking lose it.

“I think you like it too.”

With all your strength, you bring your knee into the small of his back, knocking him forwards as you twist to launch him off of you. After shuffling up to stand, you spin on your heels and march away, embarrassed at how he’s got you flushed and smiling like an idiot schoolgirl.

He’s still groaning in pain when he calls to you, “Done already?”

You stumble on a witty response, “You’re the worst!”

Smooth.

You weren't the only one losing their cool. Mando became a lot more defensive of you in those days; you nearly killed him once because he kept trying to cover you from blaster fire. He even started a bar fight for you.

You hated the stares you received by virtue of being around him; traveling with him always meant that being unassuming was impossible. Normally, people would avert their eyes. If you were particularly lucky, a poor soul would try and push the Mandalorian’s buttons, not realizing they’re digging their own graves. One day, however, you’d hit the jackpot when they decided to target you.

You sat across from him in a booth, patiently waiting for the quarry to pass through; you took the side facing the door while he was turned away, taking advantage of the element of surprise. Out of the corner of your eye, three drunk bumbling idiots stumbled from the opposite end of the bar. Despite your stealthy gaze, one of them locked eyes with you, and when you saw his lips curl into a disgusting smile, you knew you were in for it.

The man you saw and sauntered over to your side of the chair. His friends shuffled behind him like dogs, and he practically beamed when he saw Mando, seemingly nonchalant.

“My my, Mando! You’ve got quite the catch here,” he says, undressing you with his eyes, “Where’d he buy a thing like you, baby?”

Are you fucking serious?

You cocked an eyebrow and shot him a glare in response, but remained quiet. You turn back to your view on the door, praying to Maker that he’d leave you alone. But the man didn’t let up.

Instead, he turns to your partner inquiring,

“How good of a lay is she, huh, Mandalorian? Bet she’d be a real treat for me and my boys” his men move a little closer to corner you both, “How much to take her off your hands?”

Can a girl just exist?

“I’m not for sale,” you snarl, voice tight. A dull pain begins to echo in your temples.

“So she speaks,” Your irritation only seemed to egg him on, “C'mon darlin’ let us take care of you. I promise I’m good for it.”

Your fingers were itching towards your blades, but you were still waiting on the quarry to enter the cantina. A scene would scare him away and you would lose your money and time.

Business comes first.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Mando’s voice cut through your exchange, “Get lost, she said she’s not interested.”

“Now, that’s not what we heard, was it boys?” His men laugh in agreement behind him. His eyes turn dark as he goes to place a hand on your shoulder, “The lady can speak for herself. I think we can negotia-”

A blaster shot whizzes by your ears before you can even think to fight back against him. Mando, ever the gunslinger, shoots again towards his leg, knocking him onto the floor.

And then the whole bar descends into chaos.

Drunkards pile on top of each other as tensions crescendo; the sound of a single shot has everybody up in arms. Your migraine only grows in intensity as the situation spirals out of control. To top it off, amidst the chaos, you see the quarry a few paces away. His eyes were wide watching the shitshow before him, and in a panic, he scurried back out the door.

You’d caught him eventually, but not without traversing the entire underground marketplace that stretched under the city. By the time he was in carbonite and you were both in the cockpit, your irritation boiled over.

“Are you insane, Din?” You fumed, “When did you get so careless? We nearly lost him!”

He simply looked at you as if you knew the answer, but his silence only fueled your exasperation.

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” you grumbled, throwing your hands in the air, “I’ll be in the refresher.”

You turned to leave, but his gloved hand suddenly gripped your upper arm, spinning you into his chest. It was then that you realized how much bigger he was, dwarfing you in his arms as he rubbed the space above your elbows.

“He was gonna touch you,” Mando’s voice was low, bordering on a growl.

Oh. The air in the room shifts dramatically.

You take a shaky breath, your voice quieting down to a whisper, “And if he did?”

The gloved hands on your arms squeeze like a vice grip. Your heart swells.

“He’d have a hole in his head.”

Your expression softens before your lips spread into a sly smile. You move as close as you can, eyes boring into the black space of his visor.

“Tell me something,” you swallow hard as you gingerly move his hands to your waist and trace your fingertips over his breastplate. Mando’s breathing is ragged through his vocoder, and you relish in his excitement. You bat your eyelashes a few times before peering up at him.

“How good of a lay am I, Mandalorian?”

His fingers dig deeper into your sides before pulling you even closer, erection already stiffening against you. He groans out a response, “Let’s find out.”

There were little things that warmed your heart, too. When you were stuck in your bunk with a migraine, he never let you get up to do anything by yourself. He brought you water and food and he took extra care in opening the door so no light was let in and he wasn’t too loud. When you could tell he was dozing off in hyperspace, you forced him to go to bed. If he was particularly stubborn, you shoved him into the co-pilot’s chair and covered him with a blanket. Sometimes, if you came across a market with a few extra credits, you’d cook him a real meal, leagues better than the shitty ration packs you normally partook in.

And then, there was the first time he kissed you.

You were strolling through a bazaar before a job when you stopped at a produce stand, excitedly picking up a fuzzy white peach from the box.

“I haven’t eaten one of these since I was a teenager,” you say, bringing up it to your nose and sniffing, “They smell amazing. We should get some later.”

Much to your chagrin, the job went south that day. You were so frustrated and angry that you’d completely forgotten about it, caked in mud and grime demanding to go straight back to the Razor Crest.

Holed up in your bunk and fresh out the shower, you were clad in only a long sleeve shirt and underwear when you heard him knock. When you opened the door, you were surprised to see the fiercest hunter in the parsec standing before you with a plate of peaches from the market, sliced neatly into little wedges.

Mando sat with you on your bed as he watched you eat; you told him about how the fruit used to grow on trees in your family’s orchard in the summer. Though you acted like you were sick of them, you always ate it when you were upset. You smiled at the memory of your adolescence, silently cutting up the fruit into wedges and eating them outside during dawn, right after your first break up with some boy.

You were so caught up in the memory that you nearly jumped when Mando leaned in and took your chin in his right hand. His finger traced over the side of your lips, and your heart raced in your chest.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he uttered, “It was going to drip on your chin.”

You would’ve thought he’d lit your body on fire. Your core ached and you suddenly couldn’t breathe. When he began to pull back, it felt like instinct to grab his wrist and keep his hand near your face. You leaned into his touch, pressing a chaste kiss to his thumb.

You began to crawl across your bunk to him when he stopped you, “Wait.”

Mando stood, and closed the door and shut the lights off. Darkness enveloped you both, and you called out to him, “Din?” His voice cut through the inky dark, “Can you see anything?”

You hear him shuffle, as he stands in front of you, “I dunno, can I?”

“Y/N,” he urged, impatient.

“No, Din. I can’t see.”

And then you hear the air hiss, and metal clanging to the floor. Realization hit like a meteor crash.

He took it off.

You panic immediately.

“Din, wait! What are you doi-”

You shut up the instant his hands cup your face and his lips are on yours.

And it felt delightful, better than any kiss you’d ever had. Your eyes flutter shut as you deepen the kiss. Your arms go to wrap around his neck, and you pull him even closer, elated at the way his soft hair feels in between your fingers. You were sure that he could taste the sweet, tangy peach on your tongue. When he pulls away for air, your face feels flushed with heat and you could feel your swollen lips.

You’re in a daze, “You kissed me.”

He laughs and you hear it. His real voice. No distortion. No modulator.

“I did.”

He does sound like an angel.

“Do it again.”

When it all broke apart, it wasn’t like the steady, dawdling way you fell in love. The break was quick and it stung worse than any migraine.

“What do you think?”

You walked around the cockpit, tracing your fingers over the controls. “Why? You thinking of an upgrade?” You shoot Mando a smile. He doesn’t seem amused, “It’s nice, I guess. Smaller, though. We already have a tough time fitting together in the Razor Crest.”

You’d been on Nevarro for a few days, having finally finished your last job. Instead of going back to the Crest, however, Mando took you to a shipyard and aboard an empty cruiser. The Slipstream’s windows were big and were much cleaner, but space was still an issue even if you and Din didn’t carry much.

You turn to him expecting a response, but he only says, “Let’s go.”

“Wait, Mando,” you reach for his shoulder, “What is this about? I don’t understand. Why are we here?”

He doesn’t stop to answer, “I said, let’s go.”

You let out a huff as you followed him out of the cockpit. Ever since you landed, Mando’s behavior had flipped like a switch. Your friendly talks had been reduced to one-sided exchanges. He’d been ignoring you, cold like the beskar he donned on his back.

“Mando!”

He kept walking down the loading ramp. His terrible attitude had made your blood simmer for a while, and now it was all boiling over.

You stomp forwards, stopping at the entrance to the hull and shout.

“Din, stop!”

And he does, but he doesn’t turn around.

You’re fuming, “What is your problem? You’ve been in a shitty mood ever since we got here and frankly I-” You’re interrupted by something flying towards you, instinct having you catch in your hands. It’s a small silver device. Code sets, for what could only be the ship you’re currently standing on.

The dots begin to chaotically connect in your head, “What the hell is this?”

“It’s the -”

“No, Din. I know what this fucking thing is,” You’re seething with panic and rage as you hold up the silver box, “I mean, what are you doing?”

He only stares up at you, the mask emotionless and frigid. The reality of the situation was crashing into you like waves; you were begging to any god that this was just a fucked up nightmare. Tears were stinging in your eyes, threatening to pool and pour over.

You hated how your voice cracked, “Answer me!”

“I’m leaving you, Y/N.”

Fuck. Hearing him say it out loud made your gut wrench.

You made an audible sob; you couldn’t control it. Shuffling to the bottom of the ramp, you’re desperate to try and connect to him, bring him back to you. The questions spill from your lips.

“Why? What did I even do? What’s wrong?” You bring your hands up, cupping the sides of his helmet. You whisper through your cries, “Din, please.”

You know. You feel it in your bones. You know he feels it too.

He gently holds your wrists, “We can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t we talk about this?” You plead, “I know something’s wrong, you gotta let me in.”

“Y/N, please don’t make this harder than it already is,” he chides, pulling your hands away from his helmet. Your heart feels like it’s in freefall when he turns around to continue walking.

You try to scramble forward to pull him back but to your horror, you’re met with the barrel of a blaster. The noise that roars through your ears sounds like shattering glass. You gape at him, a mixture of shock and disbelief contorting your features. The figure that stood before you was unrecognizable. Because it wasn’t Din, the soft lover who kissed you in the dark and traced words of Mando’a into your sternum. It wasn’t even Mando, the old snarky friend who joked at how bad of a shot you were and who laughs like a complete idiot when he had one too many sips.

It was the Mandalorian, the ruthless and deadly warrior poised and ready to fire you away.

You wake up smelling peaches and blaster smoke.

Shifting to sit up against the wall behind you, you groan at the dull ache in your head and heart. Mando is here with you at the foot of the bed; you’ve memorized the way the bunk feels with or without him.

“Why are the lights off?” You ask.

“I didn’t know if you were going to wake up with a headache or not.”

Of fucking course. It drives you insane how considerate he is sometimes.

You suddenly become more alert as you remember, “Aayn’vida, where is she? Is she safe?”

He quells your anxiety immediately, “She’s safe. I took her to her family.”

“And Khan?”

“Cold.”

You feel him shove pills and a bottle of water into your hands. You took them, and as you both waited for the pain in your head to subside, he told you what happened in Jaemai. As it turns out, Aayn’vida’s mother was a doctor for many years, and she was kind enough to check on you and care for your wounds. Khan’s goon nicked your right side; no major organs were hit, but your skin was likely scarred since it was basically singed off. There was another thing, however. Mando had asked her about the constant migraines, “She said that they can happen because of stress or trauma.”

You laughed bitterly, “Well, we both know I have plenty of that.”

Silence blankets you two again. Even in the dark, you can tell when the Mandalorian is uneasy. You wait for him to confess.

“If I’d known this would’ve happened, I would’ve never asked you to come with me,” he lets out a tired sigh, “I’m sorry.”

You roll your eyes. Why is he so fucking nice?

“We’ve been through worse,” you say, a familiar feeling fluttering through your chest,

“Besides, this just means I’ve rightfully earned my 80%”

#migraine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian/reader #the mandalorian #din djarin x reader #din djarin #din djarin/reader #mandalorian fic #the mandalorian fic #baby yoda #pedro pascal #MY HEART IS POUNDING

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theconfusedartist · 3 years

Text

alright, it’s the end of the year so imma be honest

being in quarantine has made me realize how little nonblack people care about black lives. like. I only ever reblog posts with radical statements without tags bc I don’t want anyone to feel like I’m personally attacking them and sometimes bc though I agree with the general post, there might be things that I disagree with but don’t have the spoons to really sit down and put in the tags why the phrasing/usage of certain words or phrases upset me. so I just like and move on

but after seeing that Black Lives Matter is trending on tumblr at #20 all the seething rage I’ve been holding in my chest kinda bubbles over. why? Because this year, nonblack people have proven, whether we’re talking on a large scale like corporations, businesses, and larger financial institutions or if we’re taking on a smaller scale like person to person or even just seeing someone’s post on whatever social media, that they don’t are about black people

It really was unnerving. Seeing these ads or hearing them say “Black Lives Matter! As long as they contribute to our sales!Buy now! And feel like a better person because you shopped at a store that was unafraid to say BLM!” and then looking up and seeing they weren’t donating a cent to any movements or even giving money to the black people who’s posts had skyrocketed asking for money due to COVID

“I think BLM!” proclaims a nonblack blogger, puts it in their bio and then talks over black people in issues that have nothing to do with them

It’s like seeing the whole ‘I have a black friend’ trope being commodisized in real time as people clamored to claim their anti-racism but in the next breath talked about how we should wait or things aren’t as bad as they say they are.

It always was a hit, another kick to the ribs, another post to turn away from as nonblack people started sharing pictures of black bodies with “hashtag BLM” as though to them the statement held no more weight than “I prefer cats over dogs”

It hurt, hearing about another black person who’d been killed for just existing in a space where someone took offense, then not only having to deal with the fact that their death and photos of their bodies are going to be spread around but also the fact that there would be people claiming that person deserved their death. why? well, it must’ve been some reason if they were killed for it (but there never actually is)

but this? seeing tumblr our BLM on trending as if it’s some pop culture reference or something silly that will pass once the year end infuriated and enrages me. my life will not end at the end of this year, I will still matter, all the black people living and dead will still matter whether they get acknowledged or not

Black people are people. Even when our worth is assigned and considered lesser than, we will still matter and what you think or believe on the subjec will not EVER change the fact that OIR LIVES MATTER

We have WORTH. Not just as a punching bag, a token friend, a cautionary tale, or something big and scary to gawk at, not just as much as what we are able to produce

BLACK LIVES MATTER NO MATTER WHAT WORTH NONBLACK PEOPLE TRY TO IGNORE IT, NO MATTER HOW HARD THEY TRY AND HOW OFTEN WE’RE REMINDED THAT YOU ONLY VALUE US FOR OUR LABOR, WE WILL STILL MATTER

no amount of hate, racism, or ignorance will ever change that and honestly? I pity you.

All over the world, we are told that we are nothing and don’t matter when we know it isn’t true, even as were verbally or metaphorically spit on, and yet this world wouldn’t be as it is without us

After all, if we weren’t out here creating history, making waves in our own spaces, and radicalizing the world simply by existing to the point that all we touch and create is so much better than what others create that they have to steal what we make and create and are too embarrassed to admit their lack of imagination and respond with indignation for their cultural appropriation, where would they be? So much of the basis other cultures have are stolen off the backs of black people and their creations, as much as that galls me, but without us you’d be less than nothing

So thank you, 2020. For showing me even if we and our lives don’t matter to nonblack people that we will always remain not only relevant but will continue to thrive even under the worst circumstances as everyone else falters because we’ve been here so long that all we can do is continue to stay winning

#and that’s on that!#black lives matter #no I’m not apologizing #I had to deal with this racist shit for years #and people have only been emboldened #I have no sympathy for whatever tears I cause

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otterbeesfanficblog · 4 years

Text

When neutron stars collide

(Bakugou Katsuki x Reader)

A/n: I just want to say out right that sometimes while writing I get carried away, and also I don’t really stop to look for mistakes because... I’m lazy? I also don’t have a scheduled time for writing this stuff, I just write when the feeling comes and goes so... sorry if you hate waiting ^^; And you know what I just noticed while writing this Authors note? Bakugo’s name is still wrong in the title but I’m not changing it bc I don’t care at this point. I’m stupid and I know it.

Part 5: You Would Be Angry Too...

Part 1: Steps Before The Starting Line Part 2: When A Star Chooses To Shine Part 3: Compare And Contrast Part 4: From Where We Stand

"We're not so sure, she's still so... quiet. No one will want her like this and our numbers will go down." One of the employee's states, unknowing of the small ears listening around the corner.

The woman he was talking to sighs, nodding her head to agree with him.

"I can't find anything she's actually interested in, whenever I see her slightly liking something and I encourage her to continue, she throws it out and goes into a silent protest."

The man sighs and rolls his eyes.

"You'd think she's dead in the head at this point, no families going to take in some retarded kid willingly."

"Tsukami!" The woman says in a scolding tone. "Don't say that she's just a 5-year-old girl--"

"A 5-year-old girl who has no quirk or personality, she might as well be a doll we put on a shelf."

Having heard enough slander from her so-called 'caretakers', Y/n took it upon herself to take the little number of clothes she had in small, tattered backpack and leaves.

She couldn't find it in herself to feel sad, or angry. She felt empty and didn't know what to feel, walking down the streets and looking at the world from a new perspective.

She liked this, being able to see the world.

"I wish I had a family to do this with..." She stopped next to an alleyway, saying this out loud and looking down to the ground.

"Oh, but maybe you can."

Startled, Y/n stumbled away from the alley were the voice came from, and looking in she saw a tall man. Despite the man being so close, she couldn't at all remember his face.

Tall, suit... large mask?

She couldn't remember.

The scene quickly changed, one of which she was hiding inside a tipped over dumpster, crying while trying to be silent. She knew never to trust a stranger, and that man... he didn't hurt her or show any signs of doing so... but in her heart, she knew something was wrong with him.

"Do not be afraid, Young one. I am here to help."

She'd heard his voice many times from the TV stationed in the 'caretakers' break room, but seeing him up close made so much sense as to why so many people loved him.

"B-but... the bad men--"

Before the tall suited man could take her, an explosion happened a few buildings away from where she stood. A group of villains were thrifting and stealing as much as possible before authorities arrived.

One of them saw her, saying that he would make an example out of her despite his group telling him not to wasted time on a kid.

When he picked her up, she felt as if there was a bubble in her chest ready to burst, and when he gave her a sickening grin, the bubble burst.

She didn't really remember much of what happened, only hearing the man and a few other close villains scream in pain, and she was dropped and there were stars in the air around her.

Then she found herself running into alley where she found a small gap between the buildings and rushed in, see and hiding in a tipped over dumpster, not knowing what else to do when the all famous All Might showed up.

"They won't get you," All Might said, showing her a smile that she didn't know she would learn to hate, at that time it treasures her.

There was another explosion heard, and All Might quickly turned his head to the sound, only looking back at Y/n when she whimpered. Her hands covered her ears and she shook afraid of what was to come.

"You must stay here, Young one, it is the safest place for now." All Might knew that if he tried to take Y/n to a safe place a few things could go wrong.

She could get even more scared and lose control of her quirk again, she could be spotted by the villains and they would be relentless in getting her, the villains could get away while he tried to find a safe place for her.

His hands were tied, and as much as he hated the idea of leaving her here alone, the space between the buildings was hard to find. It was small, quiet, and you wouldn't know it was here unless you were looking for it.

"Stay... Here?" Y/n questioned softly, not liking the idea of staying where she was. It was cold and when she had the lid closed it was dark.

Looking into her eyes, All Might kneeled in front of her and place a hand over his heart.

"You must stay here, and I promise I will come back."

"You promise to come back? Promise to come back and keep me safe?"

All Might gave a solid nod.

"I promise."

-----

You're eyes flutter open and you groan at the reoccurring dream.

"What a bullshit promise..."

Pushing up the bin lid, you squint your eyes at the incoming sunlight and yawn, rubbing your eyes. You flinch as a creaky noise comes from your throat and your stomach, which in turn makes you place a hand over your stomach and crawl around the side of the bin and look to your food pile.

Or, lack thereof.

"Shit... Riji always helps me get food..."

You stand and stretch out your back, sighing when it lets out a satisfying pop.

"But, I haven't seen him for a week..."

Looking up out of the little hole through your makeshift roof, you let your mind go blank as you look at the relatively blue sky.

You knew Riji had a life of his own, you weren't really sure what that entailed but now that you had school you wouldn't really know. You saw him when you got back after the first day of school from the talk with Bakugo, but you hadn't seen him at all after that.

Speaking of Bakugo, you were shocked when he came to you with an answer the next day. He completely took the reigns and told you what to do like you were a dog, and you bit back at him every so often but otherwise he was helping you. You two normally talked and studied in your free time in school, he hadn't at all talked to you about outside of school study lessons.

Well, that was until a couple of days ago.

You were almost given a heart attack when he told you that you were coming over to his house, and he said it without hesitation and no room for argument. He gave you the address and time, but you told him you weren't familiar with the streets and such so you wouldn't be able to find it.

Which was true to an extent, you didn't really understand how house addresses worked, you did however know how government-owned buildings worked.

Of course, this made him lash out and call you dumb, which you told him was fair. You asked him if he knew where the local library was, stating that you visit and get books from there all the time. He made a comment about how if you loved books so much that you often hung out at the library, why the hell did you ask him to study with you.

You explained again that it wasn't just studying that you were doing with him, it was training and talking over ways to improve both of your similar quirks.

He kept the time the same, yelling at you to not be late as he would meet you there. If you were late he said he would just leave and you can forget about going to his house, which deep down made you nervous.

You can't remember the last time you were actually inside a proper house, you've squatted in houses for sale a few times before, but all those houses were stripped of anything considered homely.

You were actually pretty excited to see his home, you wondered if his home matched his personality, if so, you had to prepare yourself not to laugh.

Today was the day you would go to his house actually, so switching into the somewhat clean clothes given to you a while back by Riji, you ventured out of your home and onto the sidewalks with a brisk pace. Looking into store windows, you searched for any visible clocks to tell you what time it actually was.

Looking in the window of a clothing store, you say a clock on the far wall. You squint to see it, not really seeing the numbers but seeing the hands well enough.

Bakugo told you to meet him at the library at 11:30 am, you saw the big hand positioned slightly to the left of the top, while the smaller was a little past the where you think the 3 on a clock would be making somewhat of an obtuse angle.

Looking down at your hands you invasion a clock up close, moving your hands to the positions where the clock hands were in the store.

It took you a moment, but once you thought you hade it, your eyes went wide and you went to the store door. You ripped it open quickly, apologizing to the store clerk as you stared with wide eyes at the clock.

"Shit!! He's gonna kill me!!"

You speed out of the store, unknowingly leaving a trail of stardust behind.

It was 11:24, you literally had 6 minutes to get to him before he would have even more reason to beat your ass than he already did.

You hadn't really thought you would sleep in like that, you were going to have to finally get rid of that piece of junk next to your dumpster you so dumbly liked to call an alarm clock. Which, in fairness, it was.

Emphasis on was, you found it in the trash for a reason.

You were breathing heavily as you weaved through people on the street, quickly apologizing to anyone you bumped on your way. You knew the way to the library well enough so you made a B line for it, using your quirk to make you go faster.

People stared as you rushed past them at such a quick speed they barely saw you, but they also stared in awe at the trail of stardust you were leaving behind.

You were there quicker than you expected, but apparently not quick enough as you saw a familiar head of ash blonde hair walking away from the library.

"Bakugo, wait!"

You called out, you didn't stop running at him to catch up. Said boy stopped walking and glanced back at you, and with no time to react at all his eyes went wide as you hit his chest full force, sending you both to the ground harshly.

He to the brunt of it, the air gets knocked out of his lungs as he groaned. You laid on his chest breathing heavily, calming down slightly at the sweet smell of his clothing. Sitting up and practically straddling him, your chest still heaving as you looked down on him with a tired smile.

"I made it!"

It took him a moment to focus himself again, but once he did you were leaning back on his lap as he held you by the front of your shirt, glaring at you with slightly pink cheeks. You thought it was because you hit him to the ground too hard that the blood rushed to his head, but actually he hated how much he liked your warm skin.

"WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM, YOU IDIOT?! FIRST YOU SHOW UP LATE, THEN YOU TACKLE ME TO THE GROUND LIKE SOME RABID DOG!!!"

You grab ahold of his wrists and look at him with frowned brows.

"Oh, come on! I wasn't that late! And besides, I couldn't slow myself down!"

"It didn't look like you even tried to!" He yelled in your face.

"That's not the point!" You counter.

He lets go of you, letting you fully drop to your back on the ground as he shoves the rest of your body off him, dusting himself off aggressively. Though, thinking about it, what didn't this boy do aggressively?

"Dumbass! I was already regretting this, but now I don't think I want to even do this anymore."

You get up quickly and roll your eyes at him.

"Oh, please. You're the one who set this up."

"Because you're dumbass is still weak as shit!" He then quickly turned around and started stomping his away down the sidewalk, you were quick to follow behind.

"So..." You break the silence, looking at him as you both walked side by side. "What are we doing today?"

"Training." He said in a brash tone, but you just smiled.

"Finally, I thought it was gonna be all books with you."

He glares your way, yelling as he always did.

"Shut up! You're fighting style is weak as shit and you're out of shape!"

You roll your eyes and look at him from the corner of your eye with a sly smirk, slowly bringing up a hand to cover your mouth slightly.

"Oh? Last I remember you were too busy with that childhood dick measuring contest to see anything from me."

You could practically see steam leaving his mouth as he towered over you, yelling in your face but it only made you smile. You didn't really know when it happened, but you realized teasing him was very fun.

"SHUT THE HELL UP, YOU SHIT STAR GIRL!!"

"Speaking of that fight," You ignore him. "what is with you two anyway? I can see why he's kinda scared of you, but I can also see why he pisses you off." You glare off to the side just thinking about Midoriya. "He's on my shit list, but I just wanna know your side of the story."

He clicks his tongue in irritation and looks forward.

"Mind your own damn business."

"Awe, come on!" You whine childishly, grabbing at the base of his black shirt and tugging a bit. "I'll tell you something personal about me if you tell me."

"I don't give a fuck about your personal business," He growls, grabbing the wrist that was on his shirt and pushing you off. "it's called staying in my lane, you should try it sometime."

You huff in annoyance, but you had a feeling his side of the story would be hard to hear from to begin with. So, taken to what he said, you walked quietly beside him which surprised him for a while.

It didn't take more than 20-25 minutes to get to his house, but once you were there you felt all ounces of confidence leave you.

"I-It's....h-how... WHY IS YOUR HOUSE SO HUGE?!"

Bakugo flinched at you turning at yelling at him, his face flushing a bit in embarrassment though he wasn't sure why. You stared at him with shock and slight awe, you (literally) practically had stars in your eyes you looked up at him.

"Are you actually some kind of rich kid?!"

"Huh?!?!!" He glares at you and yells in your face. "I'm not rich!!"

"But, your house!!"

"It's average, idiot!"

He growls and stomps his way up to the front door, and you feel your heart sink to the floor. You would have to pretend that you lived in a house like his too, that all of this was normal.

That having a real door to a real house, that you personally owned, and having all the real things that came with this house was normal...

You watched as he unlocked the door with a key he pulled from his pocket, your brows frowning as you looked down at yourself. Baggy shirt, somewhat baggy shorts, ripped up shoes that actually look like trash... which all of what you had was...

Would he not like you if he found out? Bakugo didn't really seem the type to discriminate amongst class or really anything for that matter, he took on everything the same, something he can beat. But... he also looks and acts like the type of person who hates liars...

"Oi!"

You flinch, raising your head to see Bakugo glaring at you from halfway inside his door.

"Are you coming in or what? I'm not standing here all day while you weirdly gawk at my house."

Take a deep breath in, you give a strained and awkward smile.

"I-I'm coming."

Walking in past him, he closed the door behind you. Because you were so tense, you almost jumped out of your skin when Bakugo yelled from behind you at a volume you didn't expect.

"I'M BACK!"

You slightly glare back at him for yelling, your heart beating quickly in your now pulsing ears. All he gave you back was a glare and a shrug.

"My house." He muttered, and you rolled your eyes, but then jumped out of your skin again as someone else yelled.

"YOUR HOUSE MY ASS, KATSUKI!!"

Bakugo went stiff at the voice, you turned back to face whoever yelled.

It was a very young attractive looking woman who seemed to bare the same ash blond explosive hair as Bakugo. She also shared his pricing red eyes which glared daggers into the boy behind you but quickly turned soft and gentle as her glance turned to you.

It was all silent for a moment as she stared at you with a smile, then her face flushed red and quickly came up to you, cupping your face in her hands and squishing your cheeks together.

"Ah! You're so beautiful! Your skin is practically glowing! And your eyes shine like stars!"

Her smile disappeared as she glared at Bakugo who had moved from behind you to beside you, glaring at his... mother?

"You didn't tell me you were bringing a girl over!! You haven't even done your chores yet!"

Bakugo's face flushed as his glare hardened, all while your face was still cupped within his mother's very soft and warm hands... which you weren't complaining about at all.

"What the hell does it matter she's a girl!?! And I said I would do them after!!"

"You did not tell me that, and as your mother, I need to know everything about the people you bring to MY house!!"

You felt a chill in your spine as she said this, making your doubt of Bakugo not liking your homeless double.

"Please you two, she only just got here. She must be overwhelmed."

You leaned a little past Bakugo's mother, her hands still cupping your face as you looked behind her. There stood who you could only assume was Bakugo's dad, he had brown hair and eyes and had the same hairstyle as Bakugo and his mother.

Out of all the Bakugo's you've met now, he seemed the only one who knew how to be calm.

Bakugo's mother let go of your face and instead pulled at Bakugo's ear, which he growled at and grabbed her wrist tightly.

"Do your chores!"

"Shut up, hag, I'll do them after!! Now let go!!"

She let go but quickly smacked him over the head.

You didn't really know you had done it, but your back was now pressed up against the door and you started to sweat as they fought.

You'd heard and seen many different family dynamics, living on the streets gave you ample time to people watch. You had seen children fight back at their parents before, mostly just toddlers throwing tantrums though.

You'd also heard the old, and the quite dumb, phrase "respect your elders".

You've cussed out your fair share of authority figures before, that wasn't new. You were, however, shocked that Bakugo would even have the balls to yell at his birth giver like that. Not to say some parents don't deserve a good cuss or two, but ... if his mother was your mother?

... You wouldn't.

"You'll do them now! Now go before I ground your ass and send your girlfriend home, treating you like the brat you are!"

He growled again at her, practically quaking with anger, but he stomped past her to another room, grinding his teeth.

Once he was gone, his mother turned to you with a smile.

"It's nice to meet you, I didn't really expect Katsuki to ever get a girlfriend with his attitude."

Your face flushed out of pure nervousness of saying the wrong thing and getting kicked out.

"U-uh, me and Bakugo... we aren't dating--"

"Damn it!" She sighed out, throwing her head make which made you flinch wondering if she was gonna put you out.

Bakugo's father sighed and walked over, placing his hand on his wife's lower back while giving you an equal to yours nervous smile.

"I'm sorry, this is probably not what you were planing when you came here."

You shook your head and waved your hands.

"O-oh, no, it's okay! I'm just... I've never been to a fancy house like this before... nor have I ever been to my friends' house or met their family."

"Eh?" Bakugo's mother raised a brow at you in confusion as both parents looked at you slightly shocked. "Fancy... house?"

"W-why don't you come to sit in the living room while you wait for Katsuki to finish up?"

You nod and are about to follow him when Bakugo walls back into the hallway with what looked like a vacuum, he glares at you which makes you quickly stop walking.

"Take your damn shoes off, idiot! Are you trying to make my job harder?!"

"Huh??"

You feel the sweat on your face as you look down at the little step in front of the door, you had seen this many times at the houses you squatted in. There was always a little step in the doorway, but since the houses were always empty you always thought it was a design thing.

It wasn't until you got to U.A. that you suddenly realized all the social etiquette you never learned because, well, you didn't have a home or parents to teach you these things.

You felt your face flush with embarrassment as you realized that your shoes may look like the trash they were, but you also weren't wearing any socks.

"U-Uhm... I... I don't have any socks on..." You look up through your lashes at the Bakugo family, almost feeling ashamed of your meet assistance in front of them.

"What the hell is--" Bakugo was quickly cut off by his mother.

"Katsuki! Chores!!" Bakugo shrugged and glared at his mother, pointing at your feet.

"She--"

"Now!!" She cut him off again, pointing down the hall. He let out a long sigh and stomped his way out of the hallway and into a different room.

"It's fine, eh... oh," Bakugo's father looked at you in surprise, you looked at him curiously. "We... don't know your name."

"Oh," You give them an awkward smile after toeing off your shoes at the entrance bowing to them as a silent apology for the lack of respectfulness for social etiquette.

"My name is Uchukyuzo Y/n, but you can call me Y/n... feels more... natural...?"

Bakugo's father nodded at you with a gentle smile, Bakugo's mother was quiet but also gave you a smile.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n." His father spoke. "follow me."

"I'll get some water for ya, sweetie." Bakugo's mother said, patting your shoulder and disappearing into what you assumed was the kitchen.

You heard the vacuum Bakugo had startup as you shyly sat down on the couch with its back to a wall, Bakugo's father sat across from you and smiled at you with closed eyes and a gentle look.

"It really is nice to meet you, Y/n. Bakugo often mutters about your when he's home, always talking about what you two were to do next together."

"Yes," Bakugo's mother came in with stacked cups and a pitcher of water, setting it down on the small table in front of you and pouring you some water as she continued. "You can only imagine our surprise to know that he was tutoring someone."

You felt yourself flush a little, bowing your head, and quietly thanking her as you stiffly took the glass of water and took sips.

"It's... not really tutoring, at least... I don't think. Bakugo and I have... sort of similar quirks, so, I approached him about maybe partnering up and learning from each other."

Bakugo's mother sat down next to her husband, leaning back comfortably on the couch as she smirked at you in a mischievous way.

"Similar quirks, huh?"

You nod, placing the cup back down on the table. Luckily for you, the crash you had with Bakugo stored up a lot of energy that you could give an example.

Lifting your hands, you cupped them into a small ball shape, allowing the energy to build up in the small pocket in your hands. Then you pulled your hands flat, one high and one just below, allowing the energy to release in a bright burst of light.

Since it was a small, contained explosion, the flash of light was like the flash of a camera. What was left was the colorful and sparkling glow of the energy that was left behind, your hands were warm as the star-like sparkles fell around your hands.

"I can store energy in my body and release it like an exploding star, taking in and putting pressure on the energy, then releasing it in a bust of light that tends to leave trails of light behind."

You look back up at the parents, they started at you with impressed expressions and you shyly scratch at the back of your head.

"A-and since Bakugo can make explosions as well, I thought I could benefit from learning from him and that... he could learn something from me?"

"Oh please," His mother grins at you. "He may act like it, but he's far from perfect."

"Eh? I-I know that..." You reply looking down at your hands in your lap, clenching and unflinching them while looking at your palms. "I admire his drive, in a lot of ways, he and I are the same."

"You seem to be as good as, if not better, than Katsuki." Bakugo's mother cut in, getting you to look at her as both parents look on at you.

"Oh, I don't really want to be better than anyone..." You look around the room you were in.

Bookshelves filled with books, a few potted plants, from where you were sitting you could just barely seen a nice looking kitchen. It was no secret this house was beautiful, something you never really lived in before.

You smiled sadly around the room.

"You know... I've always wanted to live in a house."

"Eh?!" You flinch and look to Bakugo's parents, who both equally looked horrified at what you said. You panic and shake your head, waving your hands about.

"I mean! I mean live in a house like this! It's nice a-and big! Bakugo told me there's a backyard too! I, uh, I... don't have those..."

You grin sheepishly, looking down at your feet that curled an unfurled.

"I'm sorry if I'm being rude... I..." You look up at the parents.

Bakugo's father looked at you with a sad expression, but and expression it looked like he was trying to fight for your sake. Bakugo's mother held a gentleness that made your resolve start crack more and more.

The little voice in your head started to make your eyes sting and feel glossy.

Tell them, they look like people who could help? Why don't I ever ask for help? Why do I have to do this all on my own? I can tell them. I'm allowed to. I know I am. I'm allowed to feel sad about where I am. I don't always have to be strong.

"I-I..." You felt a lump forming in your throat, your brow starting to twitch and your lips turned down in a frown. Your fists were clenched on your lap.

Were you actually going to finally ask someone for help to get you off the streets and into an actual home? With food and water and clothes and somewhere to bathe, was this it?

"I-I uhm..."

"Y/n," You looked up from your lap and stared at Bakugo's mother, who was looking you dead in the eyes with her own pricing ruby eyes. "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

snap!

You felt a tear run down your face and you felt your eyes go wide, your mouth opening as if you were on auto-piolet.

"... W-what I said before... about not having a.. a home like this... I... I don't have a h-"

"I'M DONE!"

Your shoots down to your lap and you leet out a breath you didn't know you were holding. At the sound of Bakugo's voice, you dropped your head and whipped your eyes quickly, and all heads in the living room turned to where Bakugo was standing with his arms crossed.

He first glared at his mother, then glared over to you, which turned to confusion as he saw your slightly red eyes.

"What the hells up with you?"

"KATSUKI BAKUGO!!" His mother stood and shouted at him in pure anger.

As a kid with present adult figures in your life, you knew the sounds of when you were in trouble and when you were in trouble. Bakugo was surprised to hear her genuine anger, his father was also looking at him with a stern stare.

"What?!" He yelled back, but before she could answer you stand to your feet and waved your hands, putting up a fake smile.

"S-So you're done, does that me we can get started?"

He nodded at you, his parents looking at you with worry.

"Y/n," Bakugo's father spoke softly. "You can stay and talk with-"

"B-Bakugo planned this whole day for us to train, so, wouldn't want that plan to go to waste, right?" You give him a strained smile, leaning down and grabbing the water you had. Downing it in one huge gulp, which hurt your chest by the way, and you quickly walked beside Bakugo.

"S-show me the way... Bakubro!" You faked excitement.

Every part of you now was screaming at you to leave the room and situation, the conversation was not something you wanted to have today.

Why the hell would you even think of telling someone?! Do you know what would happen then? You'd be sent to a foster home, which you already know is worse than where you are now, are you serious!? You're not stupid, Y/n! You didn't go through 10 years of living on the streets alone surviving on being soft to people you just met!!

Your inner voice scolded you plus tenfold, and without really knowing it, you were hiding behind Bakugo, away from the looks of his now frightened parents.

It was silent for a bit, Bakugo not knowing what the hell was going on other than that you looked close to crying and his parents were angry at him for something. Were you snitching on him for being so 'mean' to you? That can't be it, right? You didn't really react badly at all to his attitude.

In fact, it was one of the things he liked about you. You took his shit and sent it back.

So, what had you like this.

"... Can we go now..?"

Your voice was so quiet, Bakugo had never heard you speak so softly, and looking at your slightly upset face, he didn't like it at all.

With a click of his tongue, turned down the hall and walked towards a door in the back.

"Hurry up... idiot."

You didn't say anything back and stuck to his heels like glue, leaving behind two parents who were on the verge of calling the police or child services.

What had you been through to have to keep quiet about it?

-----

What you thought was going to be a simple training section in his backyard, actually turned into a 2-hour long training lesson with him.

You both started out with stretching, luckily for you, Bakugo didn't ask what the conversation was about that you had with his parents. He corrected your form many times, asked if you were even trying or if you knew what stretching was.

Moving on you went to a small work-out session, from running in place to jumping jacks, squats, lunges, all that jazz. He allowed you small breaks every so often, tell you that if you go all out on your first time you'll vomit, and he didn't want to deal with that.

You internally took that as a sign of him caring about you.

Next, you went to hand to hand training with him, which he gave you no mercy on. He downed you so many times that you had grass stains all over your already trash clothes, but he was actually teaching you along the way.

With your size, he thought you how to use that to your advantage. He got him down a couple of times with his help, but any victory you had over him was lost quickly as he told you a fight doesn't just stop when you have him on the ground.

After those two hours, he now has you both back at some ending work out stuff.

Both you and he were on your elbows and toes at the moment, facing each other while planking. Both of you were covered in sweat which fell from your face every so often, he was actually smart in switching his clothes before. He changed when he was doing chores as he was in a black tank top and loose shorts.

You were to hold the plank for a minute, then break, then go to your side, break, then your other side, break then repeat.

You were heaving at this point but you weren't upset about it, in fact, you were quite thankful for the tired feeling falling over you. Not only would this benefit you in the long run, but also, you wouldn't have to stay awake thinking all night.

"Break."

You look up from your plank at Bakugo who was now on his knees.

"Huh?" You still held your plank, your stomach and legs shaking a small bit.

He growled and leaned over, smacking you on the head which made you fall face-first to the ground.

"I said break, idiot!"

You let out a sigh and slightly snuggle into the ground, then you hold your top half up on your elbows and look at Bakugo.

"Thanks for this Bakubro." You wink and send him finger guns, which he rolls his eyes and mutters a curse.

"Shut up."

You laugh a little and roll onto your back with a sigh, looking at the slightly less bright sky.

"Now that we have had a training montage together," You throw your head back to look at him upside down while still laying in the grass. "have I unlocked your character backstory yet?"

"The hell are you talking about?" Bakugo growled, now sitting down with one leg crossed and the other straight out, which happened to be right next to your right side as he leaned back on his hands.

You laughed and looked back at the sky.

"Come on, you know. I want to know why you have so much beef with broccoli boy, it can't really be a secret since he likes to tell his sob story all the time."

You rolled back over, placing your hand over Bakugo's leg, making it so you were leaning it like a pillow as you looked up at him.

"No kidding, I saw him crying, like, two days ago about something. I didn't because I'm still mad at him, and also people trying in public make me uncomfy." You point and place your cheek on his leg.

He shakes you off his leg, his cheeks a little pink at your closeness to him, and he rolls his eyes.

"You're fucking weird."

"Watch your fuckin' language." You playfully growl at him, pushing your self up into a normal sitting position across from him, crossing one leg over the other as you stare at him. "But seriously, why the rivalry?"

"Why the hell are you so interested, anyway?" He crossed his arms and glared at you. "Do you really have nothing better to do then encroach on other people's business?"

You pretend to think really hard on it, then innocently shake your head like a child, smiling at him expectingly.

It was silent as you both stared at each other for legit 3 minutes.

"Ugh, fine!" He growls, throwing his arms out and glaring off, making no attempts to look at you. "That damn nerd used to be a fuckin' nobody! Just some lowly nerd in the back of the class with nothing special about him, not even a quirk! Then, all of a sudden, he gets a quirk and doesn't even have the guts to use it on me!! Like, he thinks I can't take it! Like I'm weak!"

You listen to his words carefully, knowing you just got him to open up about something that looks like he would never tell anyone.

"I'm third in the class! That damn nerd is getting all the praise! Even one on one with fuckin' All Might himself!!" He starts yelling now, glaring at the ground below him. "Now he thinks he can tell me that he suddenly got his quirk from someone!? He thinks I'm royalty stupid to fall for that!"

"So that's what it's about..." You mutter softly, not meaning for him to hear but not really upset that he did when his head snapped up to you.

"Huh?!"

"Your expectations... the world's expectations, I know how it feels to want to be above it all."

He glares at you, and for once this whole day, you weren't afraid of if your words upset him and he kicked you out. You wanted him to know you're driven too.

"I asked you to train me because it's not just our quirks that are the same, you want to go above and beyond what people and yourself think you can do. I do too. I'm starting from the bottom, Bakugo," You laugh bitterly, scratching the back of your neck as you look at the ground. "literally the bottom. You're starting somewhere unfamiliar... Must be tough, huh?"

He glares harder then grabs the front of your shirt pulling you closer to his face, his breath hitting yours as he growls at you.

"Are you making fun of me?!"

"Not at all," You lean forward to making yourself a little more comfortable in his hold. "I'm acknowledging how much pressure you have put on you and how much you're putting on yourself. It's like looking in a mirror."

"I'm not weak!" He shouts, you place your hands on his thighs and push yourself up. He still held tight to your shirt, but now you were eye level with him.

"I never said you were, that's why I like you. You may be an asshole, but you're still a good guy, Bakugo... You know that, right?"

He throws you off him to the side, standing quickly and brushing himself off. You laid on your side look up at him, first with a slight sternness then with a smile.

"You talk weak," He says, his back turned to you. You stand and brush yourself off, walking to his side and looking up at him.

"Maybe I am, but do you really think that?"

He clicks his tongue and walks to the back door leading inside, you follow quickly but he shoves a towel in your face. You were confused, but then he pointed down at your feet.

"I'm not cleaning up your dirty ass footprints."

He then walks away to what you think you remember was the kitchen. You chuckle and wipe your feet, which you hadn't even noticed got really dirty. After you thoroughly scrubbed your feet, you intended to follow Bakugo to the kitchen, but stop by the living room doorway.

Inside was Bakugo's parents talking quietly to each other while the tv close to them was on and on a low volume, most likely to cover their conversation. You were going to leave them be when you saw something familiar on the tv screen.

Walking into the room, you got closer to the tv, inadvertently showing your presents to the parents.

"Oh, Y/n, are you and Bakugo finished with training today?" Bakugo's father asked, but you didn't turn to look at him, eyes glued to the tv as you saw buildings you know you've seen before.

"... Yeah," You answer slowly, not turning from the tv. "What channel is this?"

"The news?" Bakugo's mother said, also looking at the tv. "Why?"

"Can you turn it up, please?" You finally turned from the tv to give Bakugo's mother a small pleading look. She complied, picking up the remote and turning up the volume.

You caught a glimpse of Bakugo coming in the room with two tall glasses of water before turning back to the tv.

"Yes, and we are now reporting live in what seems to be a villain attack. There seems to be only one villain who has taken hostages and has stolen money from local stores."

The tv then shows the store you were just at this morning with broken windows, then turned to a scene in which make your eyes go wide.

The first thing you see is a large black inky figure, which was picking up and throwing cars and anything big enough to cause damage at bystanders. You then saw a group of people huddled in a grey like a bubble that you remember all too well.

"...Riji?" You mutter, you brows frowning as you watch a few heroes try to get close, then quickly retreat at the sight of the inky figure creating large thick ink walls between them.

"As you can see, we have heroes on the scene, but they can't get close. The black ink substance seems to be admitting some kind of mass-energy that has already caused two heroes to have sudden cardiac arrests."

You didn't stay standing there any longer, backing up slowly then turning and running for the front door, completely ignoring the calls of the Bakugo family.

With how fast you were running and how fast your heart was beating, you knew you had enough energy to get there quickly. And you did, you were there faster than you knew it and already bringing with energy.

Police and heroes alike were making sure no one got too close, you ran up to there blockade and they were quick to stop you.

"Sorry kid, but you need to stay back!" A hero told you, looking over his shoulder every so often at the sound of crashing. You glared at him and moved to look past him, getting only a small look at Riji holding the bubble they were in.

"My friend is in there! He created that bubble! I can help!"

"No!" The hero countered. "It's too dangerous for a child to--"

You didn't stay to listen to his protest.

Your eyes went black and your body glowed and shimmered, crouching you jumped high over the hero's head and once back on the ground charge the villain, ignoring the try of the hero. Your eyes glowed like the start night sky as you ran straight past some heroes who tried to stop you, running straight into the villain's form.

You were expecting some kind of resistance at the wall of black ink that formed the villain, but there was none. You did however feel a huge jolt of energy flowing through you now, your body glowing brighter as you felt yourself brim with energy just waiting to be released.

"Y/N!"

You quickly turn your head, only to see Riji struggling to hold his bubble with the amount of power surging around. His quirk allowed him to make indestructible bubbles the are basically shields of an unbreakable mass, however, the bigger the bubble, the hardened to hold. It takes strength and consideration to hold them, that's what he had told you when he first showed you.

"Riji! Can you hold it a little longer?" You yell to him, bouncing at your feet as you feel the power around you almost making the energy in your body pour out.

He nods.

"Not for much longer!"

"I've got this!" You scream back, running full head into the eye of the storm of this villains form.

He couldn't just be a mass of inky blackness, he had to have a body somewhere.

And luckily for you, you ran straight into it.

The man in front of you grunts as he hits the ground, the darkness not going away as he looks up and stares at you in shock.

"What the-- a kid?? How did you--?"

You were blinding to look at now, all that could be seen of you was your glowing eyes, that didn't hold any black anymore, now only glowed a bright white. You smirked down at him tackled him, pushing him to his stomach and sitting on his back. You smiled at his attempts to get away from your grasp but screamed in pain as you heard the steam of his flesh burning.

"Want to know what it feels like to be in the middle of a star when it explodes?" You say, leaning down to his ear you laugh. "Well, you're about to."

Then, you let go of the power you were holding.

-----

All Bakugo could see from his spot in the crowd after he ran after you was the large inky villain, heroes arguing over the girl the ran in and how they were meant to get her out to saver her.

He wondered for a moment if it was his fault that she ran in without a second thought.

Had he put too much pressure on her during training? She said she wanted his help and his help alone so, he thought he was doing fine. She never really complained about learning and hanging out from him, in fact, he thought she enjoyed it.

But after what he told him before she left.

"I'm acknowledging how much pressure you have put on you and how much you're putting on yourself. It's like looking in a mirror."

She didn't do this to prove something, did she?

"Idiot, you better not be dead..." Bakugo muttered out, glaring at the large mass of ink.

Suddenly, he felt the air around quickly heat up, and a bright light explodes from the mass. Everyone around gasped and covered their eyes, the heat around making everyone begin to sweat. Once the light dimmed and was fading with the heat, all that was left was gently falling specks of stardust-like light.

In the middle of this gentle fall of stardust snowflakes, was a large bubble full of the victims of the attack, and dragging out a man was the girl Bakugo had learned to respect as an equal.

She looked exhausted, her feet stumbling every step or so with her eyelids half-closed. She had what looked like glistening tears coming from her eyes like a subtle drip fountain, there were also small cuts and visible bruising on her body.

With what strength she had left she placed the villain down, and as he tried to get up she places her now glowing hand on the back of his neck which made him hiss in slight pain.

"I wouldn't even think it, sir. You're not going anywhere." She glowered down at the villain as cops and heroes alike rushed over to take the villain into custody.

Bakugo started making his way over to her when he was pushed to the side by reports.

"Oi!" He growled at them, but they surrounded Y/n to the point he could really only see her exhausted face.

"Young lady! Do you know how dangerous that was?!" The hero who tried to stop her before now stood scolding her, the cameras of reports taking it all in great detail.

Y/n herself gave him a tired glare and shrug.

"Just as dangerous as it would be for any other hero."

"Exactly! You're hurt!"

"So?"

"Do you know how stupid that was?!"

Y/n grit her teeth, now puffing you her chest in anger.

"I did your job better than you! If you want to call hero work, by all means! I saved them!"

The hero glared down at her, Bakugo watched Y/n stand her ground once more in front for an authority which seemed to be something she did frequently.

"You're a child!"

Y/n's cheeks flushed with anger.

"As if my age matters!? You seem to forget your precious hawks hero ain't exactly an old clown like the rest of the top ten are, you saying his work is pointless because he's young?!"

Everyone watching was taken back, especially the hero scolding her, before he could come back at her though, a reporter watching and recording all this cut in to talk with her.

"You're so young, yet you rushed in headfirst. Did you know what danger you were in?"

Y/n turned and glared at the woman, then glared into the camera that was turned directly to her face. She could feel herself getting overwhelmed, sure she wanted to make her voice heard but... to many eyes were watching.

"Did you know how dangerous it was when you came to record this shit?" Y/n asked the woman back harshly, the reporter flinching back a little as Y/n turned into the camera head-on and glared into it.

"And for those of you just watching at home just waiting to say some shit behind a screen about me being stupid for doing this, I want you all to know something,"

She snatched the mic from the reporter as her eyes started to shine with stars.

"Think you could do better? because I don't see all the 'help' you self proclaimed heroes are doing. So before you come for me, take a good look in the mirror and ask yourself: If you were in my shoes, you could even take two steps?"

Y/n now furious, tired, in pain, and overall done with the day, grabbed the mic held in her hands and snapped it in half like a twig. Throwing it to the ground and making her way past the crowd, who all quickly made way for her to walk.

Bakugo however didn't move, the only one to stand in her path as she came to a stop in front of him. Looking up at him in the eyes, all Y/n could do was sigh and bow her head.

"I'm sorry..." It was so quietly said, Bakugo could barely hear it. She brushed past him gently, making her way away from the crowd of people watching you. Cops and heroes silently argued if they should stop her and question her, which they should have.

But Bakugo watched Y/n warp her arms around herself, walking barefoot down the streets past people, head down and back slouched.

Bakugo's mind was set, and a path in his mind clicked and was created at that moment.

Y/n and Bakugo really were two sides of the same coin.

-----

You walked around for a while, trying to get everyone off your tail so you could go back to your dumpster and forget this day ever happened.

You were more than exhausted and just wanted to close your eyes, slightly frustrated that you wouldn't be eating for the night either.

You sigh and run a hand down your face, turning the corner into your alley.

"Ugh, and Bakugo's probably pissed at me for running off on him like that..."

You stopped walking when you saw someone standing at the other side of the alley, it was definitely not Riji since he was apparently stuck with the police the last you saw of him. You stood stock still, watching the person standing across from you.

Then there were two.

Three.

Five.

Your tired body felt a shiver up your spine, a heavy feeling behind you.

Before you could do anything though, your head was shoved into the alley wall beside you while your arms were locked behind your back. As your head spun and pounded from the impact of the wall, the petty part of you finished counting.

Six.

"Nice performance on the news today, girly," I was the sound of a woman's voice behind you, you watched it slightly blurred vision as the other people came walking down the alley to meet with you. "It was a real star-shower."

You gave out a weak and bitter laugh, your voice came out cracking and weak.

"That's called a meteor shower, dumb bitch. I may be homeless, but I guess I'm more educated than--"

You were pulled from the wall tossed to the ground, your hands freed too late as you landed head first on the ground. And when you tried to sit up, you got a hard foot to the back that shoved you back down.

"That was one of our best you jailed, you little cunt," The woman spoke again, your face turned to the side as you saw her combat boots come into view. She leaned down, catching your eyes.

She then grabbed you by the head and forced you head back in a way that made your neck crack painfully while you let out a small cry of pain.

"Just who do you think you are, little girl?"

You grunt and breath heavily, sucking in as much air as you could. Your head pounded and you could feel a small trickle of blood fall over your left eyes, your ribs aching from the pressure of the foot in your back.

"Clearly someone who's better than 'one of your best's."

She growled and shoved your head into the ground again, making you cry out again as you felt your nose start to bleed. She pulled your head up again to face her and her goons.

"You just don't quit do you?"

"Nah," you say quietly. "Quitting ain't my style."

"Well, maybe any early death is." She grinned at you, then her eye suddenly glowed a neon, radioactive green.

You saw her raise her right hand, the one not holding your head, and it leaked with the same neon color as her eyes. The neon liquid from her hand hissed angrily as it hit the pavement below you and you knew.

"Acid..." You mutter out, apparently enough for her to hear. She laughed and nodded her head at the rest of her goons, who laughed along with her.

She turned back to you with an evil grin and an insane look in her eyes.

"Smart. Ya know, kid, if you hadn't been such a problem, I would've liked taken you into my gang."

You gave a breathy laugh with hurt your throat which was at this point dry, closing your eyes and shaking your head as much as you could in her grasp.

"Thanks but... no thanks..." You opened your eyes and looked her dead on. "I don't work with losers like you freaks, and besides... If a 15-year-old beat your 'best' you can't be shit, hun."

She growled and it was like time slowed, her glowing acid hand made its way straight to your face. You closed your eyes and awaited the painful death that seemed to be coming your way.

You knew you would die one day, though, you had at least hoped that you would have made it a bit further than 15.

Maybe 19... 20s asking too much.

You felt her hand wrap around your face and you waited, but... nothing came. Slowing opening your good eye, you and saw her hand and eyes were no longer glowing, and her face was covered in confusion.

"What the--!"

She was cut off by a cloth wrapping around her face and quickly shoving her into the ground, and it wasn't long until the weight of the foot on your back was released as well. You heard quarl above you, the goons yelling about not seeing who it was or where they were.

You, too tired and in pain to move, stayed laying on the ground, staring at the knocked out woman in front of you.

Then, it stopped. No more fighting, no more grunts of pain, only the sounds of someone's footsteps. Even as they came close to you, you didn't move.

The footsteps stopped, then you saw the knocked out woman being dragged out of your sight. You let your aching chest fill with air before you pressed your hands to the ground, pushing yourself up from the ground on to your hands and knees.

This was enough to take the breath you just breathed away, and you sat back tiredly on your heels. You head faced down, you couldn't bring yourself to look up yet, the pain you felt all over was stronger than your curiosity of the stranger who saved you.

Well, that was until you heard his voice.

"Why did I know when I saw you, you would be trouble?"

You slowly lifted your head, and standing in front of you was the night-time hero and your highschool teacher, Eraserhead.

You give what you can only assume is the most pathetic smile in the world to him, your hand not even leaving your side but waving a small wave to him.

"Howdy teach."

He sighs, walking over to you before kneeling down. He seemed to look you over, looking at the damage done to you as you sigh.

"Guess this can't really count as just an after school activity, right?" You weakly joke, but he didn't change his neutral expression at all.

"We didn't have classes today, Uchukyuzo." He states in a monotoned voice, finally taking his goggles off to look you in the eyes. "You must be stupid."

"Yeah..." You let your head drift to the sit, slightly nodding to your homeroom teacher. "You're not wrong..."

"You do realize you can no longer live like this, correct?"

This got you, you frowned your brows but quickly regretted it from the pain that came from just moving your face.

"Wha... what do you mean?"

He sighed, standing up he grabbed your arms gently enough to not hurt you, but with enough force to help you stand. You hiss and slightly whimper in pain at this swift move, but allowed him to take you by the shoulders and guide you slowly threw the alley.

"You've being moved to a facility until we can find you a real home."

Though you felt pain coursing through you, you smacked his hands off you and stumped over to the alley wall in pain gasping a little but then turning and glaring up at his neutral face.

"What...?"

"Uchukyuzo," He said in a stern voice. "You can't actually expect a school like U.A. to ignore the fact that you live in an alley, sleep in a dumpster, and eat stole or savaged food while dressed in clothes from the trash."

You lean you back on the wall, face him fully now, you glare even harder than before.

"You were watching me."

"Ever since you got into the school," Aizawa confessed.

You growled weakly, like an injured animal still trying to fight as it's cornered.

"I thought the Principle said it was classified."

"It is," he confirmed. "to students and others not staffed or properly responsible for the students. You expect only Nezu to know? Homeless or not, we've never taken in a student with no record of anything except for a date of birth that took far too long to find."

You looked off to the side, sighing as the weight of the day started to come back to you.

The worry of not seeing Riji, the emotional ride you hade with Bakugo, the training with Bakugo, the villain and apparently the villains gang, and now...

"You're ripping me away from the only place I've called home for 10 years..."

Turning to face Aizawa again, who didn't cave under your look.

"Do you know that's what you're doing?"

"This isn't a home." He stated as if it were nothing.

"Maybe not to you but it is to me!!" You scream, not even caring about the pain that ripped through your dry throat. "Where else am I supposed to go, huh?! To the foster care that didn't give a rats ass about me and only wanted profit?! Only to be given to a family that want a pat on the back for 'saving' an unwanted kid, is that the kind of 'home' you want me to be in!?"

He clicked his tongue and looked off to the side, which made your blood boil even more.

"That's it!?"

"You aren't the only one with a sob story." He looked down at you, and your eyes began to glow as you glared at him with every bit of anger and energy left in you.

"You think I don't know that!? Do you think I don't hate myself day in and day out about all the things I complain about?! I may have a fucked up way of living but I get I'm not the only one! But this is my story! My life! I can't give up!"

You felt your body start to lose strength as the glow around you faded and you looked down.

"I can't let go of this... not yet..."

"Y/n," You look up at Aizawa, who was now closer to you. He placed a hand on your hand in a gentle manner, looking you in the eyes as he spoke.

"You deserve a better life than this. You've worked hard to get where you are today, and I'm not at all downplaying it. But even I have to ask for help sometimes..."

Your eyelids droop and you felt his words hit you harder than they would have if you were at your best. You were so used to covering up your feelings by forcing it away with something you deemed more important, but now... at your lowest, you couldn't find it in you to fight his words.

"Let us help you now."

Your head dropped, but since Aizawa was so close to you, your head landed on his stomach. His hand moved from atop your head to the nape of your neck as you let out a tired sigh. You felt small tires drip from your eyelashes, ones soaking into the man's clothing or landing on your bare feet.

"If you were me... you would be angry too... right?" You questioned out loud, not really knowing if you genuinely wanted an answer or not.

But it's not as if you got that answer anyway, as your vision went black and your body went numb.

-----

Aizawa carried you over to the car that was meant to take you to the U.A. own building where you would be living for a while, and as he sat in the back with you, your head on his lap, he watched your face.

Aizawa did like to sleep more than the fact that it gave him time to rest his overworked eyes or his tired body, it also gave him time to not have to feel anything.

When you sleep, it's almost as if time stops, just for you. No emotions, at least, the good sleep had no emotions.

Looking at your relaxed face, face patched up by some of the people helping to gather what little things you had to bring with them, you looked so peaceful.

You were in the sleep that had no dreams, no feelings or actions, just darkness as your body healed.

While you slept on his lap, he looked out the window and thought over what his answer to your question would have been if he were to answer at all.

"If you were me... you would be angry too... right?"

"Kid," He muttered quietly to himself, glancing down at you and placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. "I don't need to be you... I already am angry too."

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bnha x reader #bnha x female reader #mha x reader #bakugou katuski x reader #x female reader

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alexandermanes · 4 years

Text

ghost whisperer - rnm fic

hey so here’s the ghost malex au/human au fic wrote but didn’t post on halloween week bc i was unmotivated

hope you like it :)

ao3

Chapter One - Ghosts

“First, you need a location”, declared the man, Tom, also known as MythCatcher on Youtube

Michael nodded then furiously scribbled down in his scrawny handwriting “Location”

“Then, you need to do research- Research is a very important part of paranormal investigation. You need to fact-check myths, learn about history of the place you’re looking for poltergeists”, he informs Michael via the small screen of his phone, “Learn about the deceased’s, their name, their story”

He stops the video to write “Research” on the notebook, underneath “Location”, obviously.

“After that: planning. What kind of gear are you planning on taking? Camera? Infrared night vision goggles? An Ouija board to facilitate communication? What kind of questions will you ask, with or without the board? What time are you going? What time are you going to visiting the haunting site? What are the alleged time of the apparition’s sighting?”

Those are too many points, Michael observes and writes “Planning” as a third bullet point in his “How to ghost hunt” list. Tom (MythCatcher) doesn’t appreciate the term “ghost hunter”, he thinks it’s demeaning since people don’t take ghosts seriously. The paranormal, though, that they fear and believe in. Idiot, he muttered as he pressed play on the video again. He does not care about Tom’s sensitivities.

Michael isn’t delusional, he knows most paranormal investigators are as genuine as his will to admit when Max’s right, which is non-existent. But, amongst the sea of “myth catchers”, Tom is the one that makes the most sensible points, despite the fact that he earns money by making Youtube videos in his 40s and advertises for “high-end ghost hunting gear”. Needless to say, he takes Tom’s points with a grain of salt.

“Once you have a list of equipment to take with you and a scripted way to approach the site, the hows and when, then you’re ready for the next step: Communication”, Tom states, “Now, this is a crucial step. To communicate with the paranormal, you must be respectful”

Michael isn’t sure what constitutes as being respectful amongst investigators of the paranormal but invading their space, often the site where they died in, and demanding their participation in whatever nonsensical conversation they have planned doesn’t seem like very cordial behavior.

“No mocking, no inviting dangerous entities to that space, address them by name and be polite. Also you must be protected, always be straightforward about the kind of entity you allow to be in your vicinity. If there’s any funny business going on, send it away immediately. Bring your salt with you. ParanormalActivityStore has a ten percent discount if you use my code for a personalized-“, he is interrupted by Michael closing the app

“That’s enough dead brain cells for a single afternoon”, he reminds himself., after that he scribbles “Communication” as a final bullet point in his list.

Michael Sanders isn’t sure when his obsession with ghosts started, although he doesn’t appreciate his interest and curiosity being labeled and an obsession, thank you very much, despite what everyone else has voiced in the past; that’s why he keeps it to himself these days. No, in fact, he actually knows when this journey began, he can pinpoint it.

See, Michael is a man of rational thinking and little faith, a man of science and not religion which is why he believes in ghosts. Every night for a year he sees his mom, not in dreams, and with no previous history of mental illness, not in delusions. Every night religiously for a year his mom has visited him. When it started he believed himself to be dreaming but that wasn’t the case. She never says much, kneels by his bedside, cradles his face with one hand, caresses his cheek and smiles at him, teary-eyed and whispers. “Manes Residence”, those words haunt him but with a foreign intent. Though it’s a balm to his soul seeing his mother smile at him even when her eyes are so woeful, even proffering such ominous words.

It is a mystery to him as to why, ten years after her death, a brain aneurysm that took her unexpectedly from his arms, she began to visit him during the night and why she whispers those words. He has exhausted every method he’s ever heard of: Ouija boards, calling out to her, lucid dreaming, leaving candles and objects for her to communicate through, he even considered hiring a psychic but that somehow seemed too extreme. He tried praying and still prays at any given time during the day but that doesn’t seem to have been successful. At first he assumed he wasn’t doing it correctly, but then again, at the ripe age of eleven years old, in one of the foster homes he inhabited lived a family of religious fanatics, so he doubts he’s doing prayers incorrectly. Especially when hesitating or stuttering during prayers resulted in punishment. This situation is a big enigma to him and it pesters him on a daily basis. He needs answers. If this was any ordinary mystery he wouldn’t have bothered this much but he has bone-deep certainty that this, whatever it is, is very important. So keeps trying to contact his mom. He tries unrelentingly.

Until one day. He makes his way to the Crashdown, Isobel and Max by his side. After a long day of school (he was thankful it was his senior year), they all decided they needed a well-deserved milkshake with a side portion of french-fries. As they entered the diner and the small bell rang overhead, they noticed an unusual amount of patrons for a Thursday afternoon. Oh, well, he thought. They sauntered towards the counter and waited in line, a single person in front of them, a truly serendipitous event. In the indistinct chatter he picks up two words: Manes Residence.

“Sorry?”, he says loudly, turning towards the person who emitted them

Rosa Ortecho asses him with an unimpressed, and frankly disgusted, expression and continues talking to Liz, disregarding him as if he were a vexing fly.

“So anyways. Lydia told me that now the house is haunted. Sargent Psycho took off with hs ten kids or whatever to nowhere land during the nightly hours. Not a soul saw them ever again”, she points out, “dude murdered his wife after she tried to leave him, buried her than grabbed his five sons and fucked off”

“It’s just a rumor, Rosa!”, Liz replied, laughing purely out of amusement and disbelief

“So this Manes House”, Michael chimed in, “where is it?”

“Michael, stop barging in in people’s conversation”, Max reprehended him, an honest to God blush creeping in

“I’m sorry”, Michael looked from Liz to Rosa, “He isn’t usually this rude”

Michael gave him an eye-roll that screamed Fuck off, Max. Rosa just mimicked him while Liz smiled, a bright and toothy smile.

“It used to be Master-Sargent’s Jesse Manes residence, he lived there with his wife and four sons. Then one day they disappeared off of the map and the house was put up for sale. No one ever saw them since, I think, the fourth of July fair last year”, she informed him, “The house was never sold, probably because of rumors that it is haunted. I can give you the address, me and Rosa used to be best friends with one of his kids, Alex”

“Yeah, right up until the moment the left and just like poof, never called or texted”, Rosa supplied

“He probably just didn’t find the time or-“, Liz tried to explain

“For a year, Liz?”, she replied with a very irritated tone, “Either he is ignoring us, completely forgot us or is dead”

Liz gave her a good-natured eye-roll and simply told her she was being dramatic.

“Can you give me an address?”, Michael asked suddenly feeling anxious

Liz acquiesced then ripped a sheet of paper from her notepad and wrote the address.

“You’re one weird little dude”, Rosa told him, though Michael completely disregarded her

He thanked Liz and almost forgot about the shake and fries, the original reason for his appearance at the Crashdown. As they waited, Max and Isobel engaged in conversation but Michael was far too distracted to hear any of their words, instead, his mind raced, making plans about when to visit the residence. Something akin to energy traveled through his veins, similar to electricity, his heart sped-up, he felt restless and suddenly very aware of his surroundings. The movement of brown paper bags being set on the counter snapped him out of his gaze. He immediately took one, knowing they order essentially the same dish, and strode to the door.

“Michael!”, Isobel called out, drawing heads to her, “where are you going?”

“Sorry. Forgot I had something to do at- um, the junkyard. Talk later”, he immediately turned his back on his friends and exited the diner.

He scrambled for his keys inside his pocket, growing more frustrated by the second, until the skin-warm metal found his finger tips and at last, picked up his keys. He unlocked his baby blue beat-up truck and tossed his food on the passenger seat, subsequently starting the engine. He felt possessed, moving by this ominous force, an urgent feeling, but regardless of his feelings amongst other things, he was hell-bent on finding the Manes residence at that very instant.

#roswell new mexico #rnm fic #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #liz ortecho #rosa ortecho #max evans #isobel evans #tw death #ghost fic

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blackwoolncrown · 4 years

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i have a question about giving the land back/native relations, as a black person from the diaspora. what is my responsibility as someone who’s ancestors were not colonizers, but brought here against their will? i am NOT trying to be snarky or have a “gotcha!” moment - i am genuinely wanting to know how i can do my part, but knowing that my ancestors were victims of colonization as well. i know that i probably wont ever be able to afford land to give back, or even live in anything but an (1/2)

anything but an apartment, so the likelihood of me ever owning land & being able to communicate with the native ppl who’s land it is is pretty slim. that being said, if you (or your followers) have any suggestions for how people who are also victims of colonization & institutionalized oppression can do their part in giving the land back. thank you!! (2/2)

No, I get you, this is a fair question that I’ve asked myself, and here’s my answer:

First off-

1. Giving the land back and attaining racial justice for black people are not mutually exclusive goals.

2. Us being victims of colonization is not a point against helping to give the land back- it puts us on equal standing with native people as they are victims of colonization too. Furthermore, our ancestors being used in a crime doesn’t make me any more likely to want to see that crime upheld.

3. Indigenous people and African Americans are not two separate groups. They are if nothing else our global cousins and neighbors on turtle island but furthermore many of us (myself included) are blood-relations however distant and unaccounted for.

So there’s no real dichotomy between helping ‘them’ and helping ‘us’.

White people stole us from our land to help decimate theirs. This is not something I want to continue. We will never have anything close to a functional society in America as long as the First Nations’ Peoples are being actively displaced and the environment damaged. Colonizers stole us here and left us ‘surviving’ at best, trapped within their capitalist system. The most our communities can often strive for is getting rich, which can help our immediate problems but will never soothe our spirit nor ensure a better future for our people-to-be.

Lastly, while it’s definitely on white ppl’s shoulders to undo the crimes of their ancestors that doesn’t mean the rest of us just sit back and wait on them bc god knows we’ll be waiting forever. They must be pushed, taught, and so on and in the meantime as many of us as possible should actively join hands with indigenous people-- BIPOC together is a larger group than just Indigenous or Black ppl, and we have a common goal. We absolutely should band together and work to take colonizer’s land out from under them and give it back. If you can’t personally, that’s understandable! But for any of us who end up with enough money ourselves or through a community pool to buy land, we must absolutely do what we can to choose to transfer it back to Indigenous care instead of claiming it and thinking ‘well I got mine’. Not knocking anyone who does this but that’s not completed work IMO. Just Transition fully requires undoing the initial wrong that was done- colonization by fucked up europeans.

As to how to do this, our plans are to contact the Seminole Tribe of FL when our group manages to get funds together on some land here, if it’s land we end up with and not just an urban location. We will be converting our LLC into a 501c so there’s some legal stuff to discuss; similarly, get in touch with whichever tribe(s) land you happen to be on and simply ask them about this- afaik in many cases what matters is if the land will be ceded over to their ownership- in other places people have bought land that was on sale or come into it via a will and while they live on it they have handed over its use and ownership to the local tribe who still lets them live where they were eventually living.

Also, many tribes are taking donations for land, so even if you can’t afford to buy land back from colonizers to hand back to them, you can just like....give them money. Barring that, many times they are actively involved in land/water protection and the protestation of further violences by colonizers today and it is usually possible to assist them in some way.

All that aside here are some useful links that give more detail on Land Back:

http://4rsyouth.ca/land-back-what-do-we-mean/

The Whose Land map to tell you what tribe(s) to contact.

Land Reparations & Indigenous Solidarity Toolkit

#land back #Anonymous #indigenous

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