anonymous asked:

what is your feminism if you think pronouns matter more than biological sex? you're sounding white and privileged tbh.

Asdfghjfds, imagine being so privileged and stupid you think respecting oppressed people and not making them feel like shit is something a privileged person would do. ~🐱

pronouns always matter and it has nothing to do with privilege. if you’re not gonna respect someone’s pronouns then you’re just a bigot who needs to fuck off.

- 🔮


JJCC E.Co doing “I had a ghost dream” aegyo.


I wrote this a while ago, but whatever~

It was like fate was playing some sort of twisted game with them, really. The two shared heated words of scorn daily, and yet their punches melted into caresses, their heartless words muted by kisses.

To fall in love with the man you hated more than your own reflection… Yes, that was a show of fate’s sick sense of humor.

The smaller of the two glared up at the other with gray eyes, his white hair shining even in the dim light. The other looked down at him coldly, his long, navy hair in a high ponytail like usual. He growled lowly at the white haired boy, his fingers suddenly gripping his chin firmly.

Heated words, curses, insults.

Then, touches that were barely noticed.

A hand on an arm here, the gentle brush of fingers over cheeks, fingers ghosting over hands.

They wanted to hold on, and never let go.

Instead, they turned away. Both unwilling to make the first move out of stubbornness and the fact that the time to do so was not today. Not while they faced this war, these enemies.

They moved apart without even voicing their intentions, walking in the opposite directions of each other as they scolded themselves silently.

To love someone now of all times, to love while those around them were cut down mercilessly by the Noah and their Akuma…

That was an idiots errand.

They frowned to themselves before the smaller of the cursed pair forced himself to smile as his friends gathered around him, voicing their questions of where he had been.

He lied, of course. He couldn’t exactly tell them outright that he had been with the cold-hearted asian man in his room, memorizing the feeling of his fingers on his skin. Instead, he feigned innocence and tilted his head to the side.

“I was napping.” He lied, taking the food offered to him gratefully.

“Have you seen Yuu, Allen?” The red-haired teenager asked out of the blue, and his fingers twitched.

Another lie waiting to be told, dancing on his tongue.

“No, I haven’t.”

No, he had not seen him just minutes ago. No, he hadn’t seen him naked. No, he had not looked at the sword wielding man with lust fogged eyes as he thrusted deep into Allen’s willing body.

No, of course not. They were supposed to hate each other, supposed to insult each other whenever their eyes met.

They were not supposed to fall in love.

They knew it was impossible, and struggled to close off their hearts as each day passed, each battle fought.

He cursed himself when the other was injured, and vice versa. Though, the asian had the advantage in the healing department.

Both cursed, seemingly by God.

Both willing to throw themselves into heated battles, in hopes of finally ending the war.

The war, the war.

It was on everyone’s minds, dancing on their tongues. Thought over, not spoken of unless in dire situations.

It sat heavily on their shoulders, and they willingly took its weight upon themselves.

So young, yet so tortured.

Death sat on every corner, permitting himself teasing touches of the hidden lovers. He whispered promises to them both, promises filled with blood and of course, death.

They were never supposed to love. Never supposed to, yet still did.

Fate really was a shameless tease.

Sooner or later they knew that Death would stop teasing them, and take them for this own. They knew their enemies would probably be the cause of such if they didn’t act first, strike first, kill first.

So many already lost, so many already missed.

It wasn’t a good environment for love to blossom… Or was it the best kind?

Amoungst the cold was the warmth of touches, the warmth of smiles thrown their ways. They were a family there, as mismatched as they were.

Friends, family, lovers, enemies.

They all blended together in the end, until they turned black with indifference.

Until the lines could no longer be found to separate them.

Until there was nothing else.