, ? I'm Sorry But What's Wrong With Being Russian And White? Or Is It Being Beautiful A Crime? Maybe

Че за черт, чувак? I'm sorry but what's wrong with being Russian and white? Or is it being beautiful a crime? Maybe I lack some context here (and if so, I apologize) but the previous anon didn't insult non-white people. They were also quite kind and respectful towards you. Simply, the vast majority of Russians happen to be white. Why does everything always have to do with race? Not to mention that „purple eyes“ hints at something called fantasy. I don't mean to be rude, believe me, but maybe you should try to be more polite with people, especially since it's not like everyone is automatically racist or whatever just because you assume them to be. If you act like an a-hole, being black doesn't automatically excuse you. To non-racist people (like me, albeit I cannot speak for the previous anon) it doesn't matter if you or a character of yours is black or white or whatever; a well-written character is a well-written character, and if you're an a-hole, you're an a-hole. And that's pretty much it. You don't need to answer this message, I don't care, but please think about it. You can become the better version of yourself if you really try, or you can simply continue being verbally abusive and overly aggressive towards kind people who have done literally nothing whatsoever to you. They were even concerned about your well-being! They even thanked you, and you wished them to die, like that. You think to be a victim, but right now you look more like an abuser. Please consider it. We all rant about how awful and unjust the world is, but what do we do to make it a better place? Maybe the request upset you, and that's perfectly fine, but in that case, all you had to do was just to say „hey, I'm sorry, I don't think I would feel comfortable writing such a character“ and that would have been it, no hard feelings. But did you have to menace people by saying you wish them to be „popped in their mouth“? Honestly, that's... sick. It's twisted. It's evil. You're not being a decent human being, you're being someone who wishes the death of another human being just because of the colour of their skin (assuming they are Russian, since they identify with the reader). You know what such a person is commonly called? A racist. Right now you're actively being a racist. And maybe some innocent but stupid white dude on the internet will read your aggressive attitude and think „they hate me because of my skin, so guess what? I guess i'll hate them in return, so we're even“. So they'll be abusive towards an innocent and stupid black fellow, who will think the same and will be abusive towards another innocent and stupid white guy, and so on, and so forth. I hope you see what you did there. This, colonialism aside, is how racism is spread. Please think about it. Don't waste time replying to me. Instead, start acting like a decent human being and spend two minutes of your time replying to the poor anon who made the request. Of course you have no obligations to fulfil their request, but I believe you should owe them the same respect they showed to you, at the very least.

fuck being a decent human baby 🥱 they should’ve read my rules and understood the assignment

Gojo in my Eyes on Me fic kinda reminds me of joe for YOU. Welp,

Been really into cars lately 👀👀

Patchwork Quilt of Clouds

Comfort piece with one of my favorite comfort characters. Let me know if you guys want more Aizawa, might branch out to Hawks too. Just tell me what yall want to read

Pairing: Aizawa Shouta x Black!fem!OC. All my OC's have names that can be read as nicknames

Rating: PG, this is literal fluff and comfort

Warning: None.

Shouta found Cutie in their bed, with a literal mountain of pillows surrounding her. Pillows from their bed, the sofa, the guest room and pillows he’s never seen before, all fighting to say on their platform bed until some tethered on the edge. White, black, floral, funky designs and tacky sequined styled pillows painted a sight harsh on his eyes. And in the middle, a big black puff of wild kinky hair peeked out the sea of fabrics. Slowly Shouta put his scarf down on their dresser, then his goggles. With his boots by the door, next to hers, taking off his hero costume was a quick process.

During his disrobing, the erasure hero couldn't help but smirk to himself. Beside the bed, everything was cleaned; even the rug had vacuum tracks. She must have gotten fed up with his mess. Contrary to what students probably thought his home wasn't a dark cave with two pieces of furniture. Shouta was a thirty-year-old man. Of course, he had a coffee table and lamps, along with all the usual furnishings that would be found in adult housing. But despite his age and love for logic, he was a mess everywhere but his job. Before Cutie, he was shamelessly living like a raccoon. Logic be damned, working 2 jobs was tiring and cleaning wasn't a priority.

Coming out of his thoughts, he realized Cutie moved slightly to peer out at him to watch him dress down to his boxer briefs. Brown eyes filled with mirth met his before ducking down to hide in the sea of cotton. “What happened?”

“Oh thank heavens, a hero! Eraserhead, I've been attacked by a villain that attracts pillows. Save me.” Sometimes, she was almost as childish as his brats at school.

“Oh no, it appears I've also been attacked, but my villain makes their victims dangerously sleepy. Must. rest. Now.” His body collapsing into to fluffy void caused a couple of pillows to fall, but still, an obscene amount stayed put. Cutie watched from her spot as her boyfriend feigned fatal exhaustion. Her dark lips pulled into a large grin at how adorable Shouta looked surrounded by pillows, hair strewn in every direction. Playing with Shouta was like playing with a cat. Actually, her entire relationship with him could be compared to dating a cat. And she loved it.

“Thinking about me as a cat again? Really?”

“How-” a stem of catnip appeared right in front of Cutie, the bulb just starting to blossom with small flowers. Pale fingers held the piece haphazardly but behind the hand, a satisfied yet sleepy smile graced Shouta’s face.

“You can be predictable, Cutie.”

“All the time?”

“No, sometimes you're as unpredictable as a toddler. Ow, that really hurt,” his monotone voice lifted at the end when she tapped him on the forehead. Her hit caused a few more pillows to lose their balance and fall. “Exhibit A: the pillow mountain. I think I rest my case.”

“Really? Let the record show the jury looks unconvinced.”

“Objection, speculation.” Guffaws erupting from her short frame was her response. Eventually, it was quiet. Cutie felt the bed shift as her eyes closed. The weight of her partner pressed her body into the now hill of pillows. Then a cold nose nuzzled into her covered cleavage. After work and a shower, all the woman was wearing were sporty shorts and Shouta's sweatshirt.

“Sho!”

“You're warm. You can’t compare me to a cat and not expect me to do cat things.”

“But Sho-”

“Shh, just go to sleep.”

An hour before he had patrol, the hero rose from his position on his girlfriend. The pillow pillars that were there when he closed his eyes were still standing strong. Shouta released a deep sigh before getting up. Garbled words sounded from Cutie’s mouth, probably protest to him moving and taking his body heat away.

Ignoring that, Shouta went to the bathroom. Coming out he found his personal body pillow yawning and knocking down a few more pillows with her stretches. Now the floor around the bed looked like a patchwork quilt of clouds. Brown limbs popped out the remaining mess, freshly stretched, until her full figure emerged on the edge of the bed.

“This was so much easier in my head,” Cutie mumbled. Her hair wasn't that different than before, but Shouta knows she’ll be moaning over not covering it later. As he redressed, she finally tumbled out and walked out of the room. When his goggles settle under his scarf the nighttime hero exited their bedroom.

“I made soba.” a groan escaped his throat. “Just eat a little.”Before Shouta could groan again, brown eyes but quickly to glare at him, daring him to make a hint of protest. “You are not eating a jelly pack when I cooked and slaved over this hot stove to cook for my darling hero boyfriend. Sho I-”

Words kept spewing out her mouth but the black-haired male tuned her out. It would be easier to just consume a pack before his patrol, but his girlfriend was highly against more than two energy jellies a day. Cutie even said when she first moved to Japan the snacks were a complete shock to her. She believed jelly is not a substitution for a meal and her grandmother would ‘have her hide’ if she ate like he did. And thus, one of her first acts as his significant other was ensuring ‘proper nutrition.

“And I don't mean to nag but I just want you to be in the best shape possible to keep the streets safe and kick evil’s ass.”

“Okay, just a little.”

“You weren't even listening to me were you?”

“Nope. but I know somewhere in that speech you said something about caring, so… thanks.”

Cutie did nothing but flare her nose at this. While Shouta noticed, he felt it was best to make the bowls and not say anything. The kitchen was cozy, with only three chairs around the square table, all located in the nook by a window. After saying thanks, both of them began slurping down noddles, Cutie more than Shouta.

“You eat like a toddler.”

“You eat like a woman on a diet.”

“Hmm.” It was quiet after that. He finished before her, but before he could get up and leave, his darling girlfriend grasped his hand. Entwining their fingers, Cutie rose a single brow. Shouta squinted at his wristwatch before sighing and accepting he would be stuck here until the last possible minute.

“So needy.” Sometimes it was best to not acknowledge that fact about Cutie, like when she was already feeling guilty about constantly wanting his attention. But today, and on other days like this, when she had a smile brighter than the sun she could take that statement in stride.

“For you, my beloved, always.”

“Gross.” his expression didn’t match what he voiced, but he had an image to maintain. Not even Cutie can know how weak he is for mushy words. When she finished her food and put down her chopsticks, Cutie wasted no time grabbing his other hand.

“Shou….”

“Hgn...”

“Stay safe and kick ass.”A mischievous small smile danced briefly on his face. He squeezed her hand tight enough for her to curse before releasing them.

“Cutie..”

“Yes?”

“Clean those pillows up.”

Attempting to write a full x reader fic. Yea babes this might be too much for me, i feel like I’m in room watching y/n and gojo fuck and writing it down

Half the reason i lust after Gojo is because of the lifestyle he would provide. Like with Gojo is black girl luxury personified.

And that’s exactly what my OC is gonna get