#I get burnt easily

[incorrigiblemind]

Love spills from your body like rays of light and I’m a child of England, unused to the sun.

[pybun]

dynam0 before the incident

[bellsartblog]

sep-ingo day 1: trains. or like inside the car :)))

[cloversnstrawberries]

platonic!yandere!alastor & 1950s!teen!gn!reader ! ! [chap. one]

series masterlist !

description; You know where you were, and there was no kidding yourself on it. After taking in your surroundings, you stood from where you'd woken up and headed out of the patch of stinging nettle. You didn't know what your plan was, but it definitely wasn't to get stalked and subsequently chased by a very tall, inhuman deer-man.

additional notes; woo!! this chapter introduces alastor, but it's pretty much just at the end. reader does not have a good time. have you ever been stung by a stinging nettle? i haven't, but i saw my brother get stung on his leg by one and. and it's such a funny yet terrifying sight to see a 6'1 20 y/o scream like a banshee and run around like a mad man because he brushed up against a plant. it's not fun (he told me so himself). i hope you enjoy, i, once again, had a lot of fun writing this!! there might be typos to begin with, but i'm usually much better at catching them after publishing fics (i don't know how it works D:) so i'll probably be coming in and out to fix them :]]

warnings; general terror, anxiety, isolation, lots of religious references (enough to be tagged)/mentions of sunday school, mentions of death + death of friends, grief, reader is terrified for their life, gratuitous use of symbolism done by yours truly, being 'hunted', Alastor is referred to an 'it' (this will change in the next chapter when he introduces himself), and let me know if i missed any major ones !! :D

w/c; 3.0k

You just sat there for a while, looking around. There was no trace of whatever had killed you, whether you’d succumbed to the blood or the unspecified brain injury you definitely sustained-- there was no lingering lightheadedness or nausea.

Physically, you felt… fine. Your mouth felt crowded to the point of discomfort, your hands felt quite heavy because of the claws now adorning the ends of them--

And you’re pretty sure you’d landed on your tail. Yes, you have a tail. At first, you couldn't believe, that you'd fall down into hell and suddenly gain a tail; but you’d shifted around and pulled the large, furry mass from where it’d been pinned underneath you.

There was no beating around the bush with it, you had a tail now; and you were pretty damn accepting of it.

…Or you were just too tired to care. Not physically so, but mentally. You could hardly believe it, that in such a short amount of time, so much had changed.

One moment, you’d been happily hanging out with your friends, and the next you were in a car accident, hunted down the spoiled brat that caused it (because God knows he would’ve gotten away with it on account of his filthy rich folks) and slaughtered him.

With that in mind, you completely understood why exactly you were in hell, surrounded by a bunch of stinging nettles-- you looked down to your left, having felt something brush against your hand. It didn’t feel like stinging nettle at all.

When you looked down, you saw a small patch of 4 Zinnias. One was yellow, another orange, then a hot pink, and the last a bright cherry red.

You don’t know what it was about those flowers, but something stirred deep in your in response. Those were their colors, you’d realized. And maybe it was just one big coincidence, a fluke that the yellow was the exact shame shade of the cardigan Lorraine had been wearing. Or that the orange reminded you of Rudy’s carrot-top hair, or that the hot pink was exactly the color of Marnie’s cat eye-framed glasses—

Or that the red was awfully too close to the color of Matty’s Chevy convertible that he’d so lovingly named “Sheila”.

It was silly that spotting the flowers was what got you to stand, to finally get off your ass and leave the field you’d woken up in. But no matter how silly the reasoning was, at least you finally stood, right?

You considered being slow with it-- it'd be leagues safer then just yanking yourself upright and immediately heading out. But you weren't really thinking clearly on that end-- you just wanted away from the flowers.

It was stupid. It was stupid, the unease you felt because of those-- but something in the back of your mind reminded you about unit you'd done in home economics the year prior.

You don't know why it was required by the curriculum to learn how to pick just the right flowers for a gift (in the case of the boys in the class), or to decorate your home with (regarding the girls, which you thought was ridiculous that there was a separation between the two, but you could do nothing about it). You thought it was a little silly, but your teacher at least tried to make it entertaining.

She included a mini-history lesson, something that brought back some of the history parts of the etiquette unit done the previous semester. The Victorian language of flowers,

You couldn't remember what zinnia's represented, but you don't remember it being anything good. You think it's something relating to grief, and at that point you put a hard stop to anymore prying into the subject.

When you stood, you stumbled a bit. For a split second, fear shot through you-- were you still affected by the brain injury? did that carry over, and you just hadn't noticed until you stood suddenly?-- but those fears were replaced with annoyance at what you figured out to be the actual cause.

Weight distribution and whatnot, you weren't used to your ears being on top of your head instead of the sides-- so that messed with your balance just as much (or perhaps even more) than having to readjust for the added weight of your tail.

Luckily, you caught yourself before tripping face first into the stinging nettle right next to you. You'd put your foot down quick, just a hair away from brushing up against the plant.

"Shit!" You tried not to swear too often, but you felt like it was appropriate for the situation. You were quick to take a few steps back, relieved that you hadn't touched the plant.

One time, when you and your friends had been at sleepaway camp right before the start of freshman year, you and your friends had came across a patch of stinging nettle, smaller than the one you stood in now-- but still pretty sizable.

Rudy, ever the class clown, said he bet 10 bucks that he would jump into the nettle. Matty tried to discourage him, and Marnie had already preemptively turned her gaze away and covered her ears, readying for when he'd start screaming his head off (and boy, did he scream).

Lorraine was always the smartest, most level headed of the group. Though, at that point, she wasn't as used to Rudy's antics as the rest of you were; she took him up on the bet, thinking it'd make her an easy 10 dollars. That Rudy would chicken out.

He took off his shirt and jumped into the patch. It was awful, he'd jumped up almost immediately and started running like a bat out of hell-- he screamed so loud and so blood-curdlingly that camp counselors barreled to where your group was, afraid that someone had broken a leg or something of the sort.

When they got one look at the angry red welts on Rudy's back, they rolled their eyes-- you're sure they'd encountered more than a few risk takers that'd done close to same thing as Rudy had.

Rudy was always one to play up things for the laughs-- but that was one of the few times you were absolutely certain he wasn't doing anything to make it seem worse. It looked awful.

You weren't too keen on trying it for yourself, thank you very much. Eyeing the plant wearily, you made sure to steer as clear as possible of it as much as possible.

While you'd been sitting, you'd noticed a path right near where your head had been laying. You turned that way, and looked at it-- real closely, this time around.

It was pretty narrow, all things considered, but it was doable. It stretched on pretty far, but-- and this might be perspective, but it didn't seem that way-- it looked like it gradually widened about half a mile down.

Sure, it wasn't ideal, but this was hell, after all. You'd take what you could get, and you really didn't want to stay in this patch for any longer. You didn't know if hell had a day/night cycle, but if it did, and it turned to night-- you're sure that wouldn't spell anything but trouble for you.

Honestly, you could've probably walked straight forward-- like a normal person-- but for some reason, that still felt too close for comfort.

You felt something brush against your leg, and it didn't hurt-- but you didn't know how fast a nettle's sting settles in, so you snapped your head down and--

Huh.

Your tail-- which, you knew that, realistically speaking, it would move. Considering it's just another limb-- was swinging in agitation, and you hadn't meant to do it.

With a frown, you came up with a quick solution. You scooped it up with one arm and held it close to your chest with both. Then, not wanting to waste another second in this open field, you turned sideways and started cautiously making your way down the path, being painfully careful as to where you put your feet, or if you felt even a teensy bit off balance.

By the time you got to where the path widened-- thank God, you thought; even though He definitely had nothing to do with this strike of unexpected luck-- you took a chance and turned, no longer feeling the need to move sideways.

Most of the time, your eyes were focused whole-heartedly on the ground. Tracking where your feet were, if the path started narrowing again-- all of that fun stuff. But you made sure to look up a couple times, and look behind you as well. Just to be careful.

You don't know how long you'd been walking for. It must've been a while, probably a couple miles-- the sky was getting darker (and you mentally noted that hell did in fact have a day/night cycle. isn't that just swell?) and your feet were starting to hurt.

It felt like a miracle, that right as you started to get a little reckless with your footing-- hunger, exhaustion, and discomfort being one of the main sources of you being less and less cautious as the trek through the field wore on and on and on-- the end of the path was within sight,

However, it was a forest. Not a smart idea to go into-- even if it was day, the large trees would probably block any light from filtering through the leaves. You were certain it'd be awful in the dark, and all you had was the clothes on your back.

It was getting cold-- which surprised you. The temperature before was far from pleasant, it was what you'd expect from hell more or less. Scorching, to put it lightly; but it didn't affect you too badly-- maybe on account of your new biology made to better suit Hell's climate--

But it was cooling down, and it was cooling down fast. A shiver ran up your spine, a soft breeze turning into raging, cold wind that seemed to blast you from every which way.

In Sunday school, they didn't talk about hell much; it scared the kids, the idea that them, or a loved one, could go to such an awful place. It was a necessary evil when it came to discussing anything relating to God, however.

This... hell, it had to be hell-- felt worse then what you'd learn about. You've been here for hours, and have encountered not one person. Not one thing, nothing but plants and the fear of expectation.

This can't be all there is, rang out in your mind. It was terrifying, that hell seemed so similar to your time alive. A day/night cycle, temperatures that changed (even if it was from uncomfortably hot to uncomfortably cold).

As you thought about it more, you decided that maybe this was hell, your own personal one. You'd lived your life as someone who held friends and family in high regard-- you much preferred a night in than out, always opting for a cinema over a drive-in movie; but bending to your friend's wills if they so demanded.

To be stuck out here, in an unfamiliar field where there was no sign of someone-- something else, no trace that there had ever really been anyone else-- with by far one of your least favorite-- if not the least favorite-- plant being all your eye could see.

When you made it to the edge of the forest-- a nice little 'peace zone' between the nettles behind you and the foreboding, dark forest ahead of you, where there was just grass. Nothing more, nothing less-- you contemplated not going in.

Maybe... Maybe instead of a one-size fits all fire-and-brimstone, closed in with a bleeding stone ceiling and chains hanging down, the sound of screaming, tormented and damned souls being the only thing you could hear-- it was much more... personalized.

That seemed so, so much scarier than anything you learned in Sunday school. If you got a choice, you think you'd pick the other, only because it'd be predictable. You'd know what to expect.

And now, and you stand in front of the daunting forest ahead-- you find yourself torn between two worlds. On one hand, you can just stay here in this field. It's safer, if only by a little-- because you've been here for the past however-many hours, and not much had happened (save for a few close calls with the nettles you were carefully skirting around),

Still, staying out in the open didn't bode well in your mind. Going into the forest wasn't any better, it was just as scary as the nettle patch-- except for the fact that it was far more unfamiliar.

You must've stood there for at least 10, maybe even 20, minutes before finally making your decision. It was getting colder and colder-- you looked behind you, and despite how freezing it'd become, there was no frost covering the plants behind you.

Right. So, no 'hell freezing over' kind of situation. The temperature was just always set 100, whether that be in one direction or the other. Fine-- that's fine, i can deal with that you told yourself, crossing your arms over your chest to try and conserve what warmth you can,

Before stepping into the forest. The path had let right to an opening, a trail leading through the woods as well. You had full intention to follow it the whole way through, not wanting to stray off if possible.

You kept looking behind you, seeing the dim moonlight coming from the entrance growing further and further away-- when it was no longer visible, you swallowed hard and focused your gaze ahead.

This was fine.

You can deal with this.

This is just dandy, swell-- amazing! You're fine, you're okay. You aren't hurt, there's nothing behind you, there's nothing watching you, nothing hunting you despite what the deep-seeded prey drive in the back of your head tried to tell you--!

Snap!

You tried your best to not look back, but it was getting harder and harder as the moments went by. There no other noise, save for crickets chirping, and fireflies buzzing by (though, they didn't look like any fireflies you'd seen before, not while alive), and your own footsteps and shallow breathing.

Then, you stopped dead in your tracks. There was a fork in the path-- one leading down a steep hill, the other turning sharply into a more densely populated part of the forest. It was impossible to see all the way down the hill, or through the trees.

You stalled, not a smart choice, but... you didn't know what to do. The hairs on the back of your neck stood straight up, posture becoming more hunched as the cold feeling of dread curled in your gut and refused to leave you alone.

It went quiet.

Entirely so.

No crickets chirping, no fireflies buzzing, no wind rustling the trees-- nothing. Your ears began to ring oh-so suddenly, and you flinched. Clapping your hands over your ears, childishly hoping that'd fix-- or at least help-- the ringing in your ears, that was getting so loud you felt your brain starting to rattle in your skull,

You squeezed your eyes shut, pushing and pushing and pushing your hands harder and harder against your ears, and at some point, it seemed like you were trying to crush your skull into pieces out of pure desperation. Desperation for the ringing to just stop already!

Just when you felt your head was about to explode-- or implode, maybe; considering how much pressure you were putting on it-- the ringing stopped.

A hand was on your shoulder, but you didn't feel it settle there. You don't know long it'd been there-- it's a hand, you know that much. It was large, and clawed, and bony-- it didn't feel like a person's hand, so much as it felt like the hand of a monster. The kind that you'd ask your mom to check under your bed for as a small child,

Before you could properly react, besides the way your blood seemed to turn to solid ice in that second of realization and your eyes flying open, another hand-- just like the one on your shoulder, grabbed one of your wrists-- delicately, almost gentle, but a hidden threat lied beneath it-- and pulled it from your ear.

"Hello, my dea--!"

You turned around, and all you needed to get you rushing past the- the creature, the man(?) that stood before you was to realize just how tall it was, the antlers adorning it's head, it's red eyes that seemed to glow all on their own--

and oh.

oh god, those teeth, bared in what you assume was meant to be a friendly smile, but got horribly twisted upon execution-- it's mouth could be considered more of a maw then anything,

Before it could get another word, before it could even finish its damn sentence, you ripped your hand from it's grip-- it was loose, easy to pull your wrist from its clawed hands--

And swerved around it, taking off the way you came. You didn't dare look back, your tail trashed wildly with anxiety-- surely getting sticks and leaves and burrs stuck in it all the while, but you didn't care about that right now,

All you cared about was getting away from whatever the hell had just approached you.

A foolish, almost naive part of you assumed it wouldn't follow you. That it wasn't that interested in you, or that it'd already got its fun from spooking you like a flighty rabbit.

The laugh that seemed to trail after you, seemed to worm into your very head and make itself a nice, cozy little home right in the back of your mind-- told you otherwise.

It dawned on you, maybe a little too late, that this was probably its intention. To get you to run, run like a rabbit being chased by a hunter-- knowing that if it turned around, if it looked back for even a second; it'd be staring down the barrel of a shotgun, one held by a man with a trigger finger when it came to things like rabbits.

You were being hunted.

Pretty fitting for your first night in hell, isn't it?

tag list !

@diffidentphantom

[please comment or DM me if you'd liked to be added to the tag list! ^^]

[moeblob]

(softly) I forgot Freedom Wars Remastered was today I'm so sorry...

[we-are-dogclan]

hi guys uhhh. I HAVENT FORGOTTEN ABOUT THIS BLOG I PROMISE YOU. i have just had no motivation whatsoever for a whiiile, but im trying to get back into it.

ive been scripting some moons so i can form some sort of direction to go in that flows nicely. ive had the main points of the story entirely fleshed out for a LONG time but never knew what to do in those little inbetween points, thats why there have been so many timeskips (and filler content just drains my motivation even more.. my motivation is like a timer, i only have so much art i can make before it runs out and i disappear for months, so i tried to stick with only main story points so i could get more done before not being able to do anymore)

but uhh basically. HOPEFULLY more dogclan content will be coming soon.. no promises, but im trying <3

also i think from now on im gonna answer asks through text responses, that also made me lose my mind a bit too, felt too overwhelming to have all this art to draw just to answer a few questions

[kamwashere]

don’t piss me off…..

[random-lil-illing]

i love making headcanons and, inspired by @blakenation1 making dps headcanons, i wanted to try it out too :) 

so, dead poets society going to a mall!!

- mr keating goes with the dead poets to the mall to act as adult supervision since Welton requires the students to have a chaffeur. he just enables their chaotic behaviour though and literally does not act like adult supervision at all - he tells the dead poets that if any other teacher (especially mr nolan) asked, he was watching them like a hawk the entire time (he wasn't, he was watching them like a mole)

- they manage to run into ginny and chris in the mall and the two just sort of. join their group for funsies

- the group is sort of split into three categories: the ones having fun, the ones who are just here for shopping, the ones who want to go home

  - people who are actually having fun: neil, charlie, mr keating, chris, meeks, and todd

     - they actually love the mall because of all the places they get to go and the aesthetic in general (like neil, chris, charlie, and a little bit of mr keating) OR they found a store they really like and are just browsing what they have (todd in a bookstore, meeks with casettes/records/posters, and mr keating at a thrift shop). the latter need to be physically dragged away from the stores they chose to be in

  - the ones who just wanna get their shopping done: cameron, pitts, ginny, knox

     - they don't hate the mall, but they're not giddy or excited about it like the people having fun are. they're still somewhat enjoying themselves because of the people around them or because they found a nice store. either way, they're mostly focused on actually shopping for what they NEED

  - the ones who wanna go home: todd, cameron, a little bit of meeks

     - they get overstimulated outside of their chosen stores very easily :( the food court is loud and bright (they're just like me fr)

- they mostly split up to go to whatever store they want to, but they plan when they're going to meet up at the food court so they can all go together. cameron, ginny, mr keating, and knox all just regularly check their watches to make sure they're not late to the food court meetings while everyone else has to set alarms to remember (especially meeks and todd, since they're so immersed in their respective stores)

- charlie's running around with neil from store to store, browsing each store and buying a couple things from each. they visit the shops everyone else is in to hang out with them a little and talk about what they're buying. sometimes they go to drag the other poets somewhere else because they're spending too much time in one place. neil spends a lot of time with todd in the bookstore, and in turn charlie talks about different records with meeks

- chris will occasionally join along with charlie and neil to talk with the others, but mainly sticks with ginny and knox, who are happy to follow her around as she browses each store. she usually ends up in stored that ginny and knox needed to go to anyway. they buy each other jewellery and other gifts, and point at couple things or plushies and go 'us'

- cameron came into the mall with the intention of sticking strictly to business and simply getting what he needed, but he gave up pretty quickly when he saw just how unserious everyone was being about the whole thing. don't get them wrong, they still got what they needed, but they let themself be taken places too. they even buy the others a couple of things too

-charlie is spoiling EVERYONE, especially neil and the girls. oh, this costs a little too much for their liking? don't worry about it baby, charlie will pay. they can't justify buying something for that price? charlie can! they're eyeing this thing but know that their parents will be mad if they buy it with their money? buy it with charlie's money! charlie is loaded, and what better way to spend his money than on his partners friends? he himself is mainly buying magazines or books, and clothes too. random trinkets too (he buys a mini sax figurine)

- pitts is mainly trying to buy stuff for the radio, along with other projects he wants to start. whenever any of the other poets come around to the store he's in, he'd ask them to visit meeks next and remind her to drink water or to straighten their posture or to take a break in general (modern au! pitts would just call/text meeks to tell her to do so) since it reminds him to do it himself too. he also buys a couple posters and merch in general of his favourite pieces of media to put in his room back at home, or subtly place around his dorm at Welton

- neil is trying not to spend too much of his allowance, and he's succeeding because charlie's buying everything for him, despite his protests. he can't even buy just what he thinks is necessary either, because charlie eill catch him staring longingly at something he wants and buys it. he buys things like flowers, props and very extravagant accessories for future plays and such. and jewellery, so much jewellery. he's also buying things that remind him of everyone else in the friend group, and he and charlie jokingly buy everyone nail polish (which they all end up loving and, by the end of the weekend, they all have matching nails)

- mr keating is buying the wackiest things from the thrift shop - weird and honestly haunted looking decorations? he's taking them. dad-joke shirts? into the cart they go. random trinkets he knows the dead poets will love? buying. he also buys some subtle pride merch, just to let his students know he's a safe space for them. though, he has a feeling they already know, based off of the way they freely talk about stuff like that in front of him

- todd, chris and neil LOVE the perfume (and scented candle) aisle, and they pass by it multiple times while in the make-up store - it's why todd and neil follow her and meeks into there. though, meeks, while occasionally dipping into the make-up store, avoids the perfume aisle like the plague. her senses are extremely sensitive, especially her sense of smell, and the strong perfumes make her sneeze and breathe weird. she quietly encourages the poets in the perfume aisle from the other side of the store

- chris and ginny dip in and out of women's clothing stores and occasionally drag meeks in with them. meeks feels a little shy there but chris and ginny hype her up so much it's hard to feel nervous. they all help each other pick out clothed that suit them and help them feel comfy in clothes they like but are nervous about

- ginny definitely frequents the thrift store too, she just loves the vibes of the clothes there, and she's in and out of the arts and crafts store too. they spend an absurd amount of money in the crafts store (same), and they definitely have stuff they don't need in their bags, but she's happy and besides, charlie covered half the cost, and chris covered the other half. she also buys any necessities she needs, but mainly trinkets from the crafts store

-chris definitely spends some time in the more 'girly' stores (make-up, women's clothes, jewellery, etc.) but she also buys a fair amount of merch for her favourite shows and games (unrelated but i think modern! chris and ginny would play call of duty together - if they can't beat a campaign mission or online round, they ask chet to help). also she buys 'weird' trinkets that remind her of her friends/partners

- also, charlie, knox, todd, cameron, and meeks, the instrument kids, definitely visit the music store a couple of times. charlie brings up the idea of sneaking a piano into Welton and while it's entertained for a minute ot two, meeks eventually rules it out as impossible

- the food court is extremely overstimulating for cameron, todd, and meeks. throughout an all-day trip to the mall, they have three scheduled meal times in the food court (brunch, lunch, befor-dinner-meal). each time they go there they get more and more worn out and by the end of it they're all one inconvenience away to breaking down. cameron and todd at this point desperately want to go home, while meeks, despite knowing that if she doesn't go home now, she'll be throwing up soon but also she wants to stay at the casette store a little longer. still, it's a breath of relief for them all when mr keating finally announces it's time to go back to the campus

- mr keating drops chris and ginny back off at home since they walked to the mall and, with arms full of stuff, they would have a hard time walking back home or taking the bus. it's... definitely a tight fit in the car, and someone has to sit on someone else's lap or on the floor, but they manage. everyone pretends not to notice that both of them get dropped off at ginny's house, even though chris doesn't live there

- by the time they get back to the dorms, everyone has arms full of bags, and all the other teachers give disapproving looks to mr keating, like 'you were supposed to control them >:(' and mr keating, arms also full of bags, most of which aren't even his, just shrugs with a smile. they had fun, that's what was important!

i'm so sorry these are all so long, i love elaborating in my headcanons. and i apologise if some of my headcanons (cough cough transfem meeks) are a little too in your face during this

[faedastudies]

in my overachiever era (i decided to enroll in a 6 month tafe course while i'm at university to "expand my options" because i felt like i had too much free time a few months ago, then forgot i enrolled in said tafe course until the day before it started, and instead of being normal and withdrawing from the course i decided to just go through with it despite the fact that i probably don't have the time for it)

so, guess who's a stem student also studying a law-related course?

[justmaiidraws]

My motivation when things

[distressedwalnut]

Raffle prizes for twitter :]]

[oceanwithinsblog]

i have no idea whatsoever about who the killer(s) might be this season, but i AM worried to death that LORETTA is in huuuuuge danger !!!! SAVE MY LORETTA !!!! YOU WILL NOT HAVE HER DIE TOO

[variousqueerthings]

the thing is you go to a birthday party and most people there are over 30 and two of the people who aren't are under a year old and we're all mutually helping out with the babies because they clearly enjoy getting to touch every person's face at least once, and roughly 85% of the people there are trans, another 10% are otherwise queer, and the other 5% are a 70+ year old friend from choir who's not perfect with pronouns but is very supportive and a few neighbours and friends from parent-baby singing (babbling) class and you're sitting on the grass and eating some homemade cake and garden-grown strawberries and chatting with three trans women about horror and getting invited to future events and you know

it's all good

you're going to be very very tired afterwards, but it's worth it

[scaredspoons]

:( i might hold off tomorrow (today since 5am) on the meowrails; my art isnt doing art and my shapes arent becoming shapes and its making me FUME; its irritating but imma just go back to the basics of figure sketches (ill probs still do some of equius and other characters during said time and post it once its over xPP) sorry for the delay!!!

[inactive-veins]

I haven’t considered sh like this in a while.

[barelyoksometimes]

Not to get personal on he he ha ha website bur I've legit lost track of what I'm doing with my life and that's stressful. I think I want to major in English but dang there are so little career opportunities for English majors. That's what I've always been passionate about but what am i supposed to do with hat degree. I've taken aptitude tests but they mostly tell me I'm well suited for careers in psychology and English, the two things I'm trying to decide between. English teacher has come up a lot and I did want to teach high school at one point. The unfortunate thing is most people who know me don't think I'd make a good teacher. Im hypersensitive, a bit of a push over, socially awkward, anxious, and autistic. I don't want the label of autism to limit what I do but it's an unchangable part of who I am. Being an adult is so hard squad.