#but let me know if you do actually use any of them and how you change the story

[lilacstro]

★ruler of 10th through the houses and what you are "known" for/ "talked about"★

hey! long time no see? I hope you guys are doing well! I was busy with stuff so I couldn't post much. This would be a rather short post kinda.. I have two more pacs coming up so yayy!!

how to use this post: Use the ruler of the 10th house to find what you are known for, or talked about generally, what are your highlights usually. Check the aspecting planets for more details!

leave post suggestions in comments or asks!

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Paid readings open

How to find the ruler: Let's say your 11th house is in Leo, who rules leo? Sun. Now find where is your Sun. Maybe 8th? Then your ruler of 1st is in 8th. Hope this helps, I often get a lot of questions on this one haha

☆Ruler of 10th in 1st: Ah, main character energy! You are actually known and talked about a lot, basically about your entirety and what you do. You are usually very driven by "self", the desires to be bold and brave and put yourself out there. You are not afraid to have the spotlight, for either being both famous and infamous. You are known for being "yourself" , for being impulsive, raw and real. You are also likely to be very attention catching, and attractive to people, something about you just catches the eye!

☆Ruler of 10th in 2nd: You may be known for your voice, the very way you speak, your ideals and values. You are very likely to be kind and polite and very stern about your ideals and morals and would not budge in any situation. People like these may work in multi corporations, but would stay away from dirty stuff. "I like my business clean" energy. You may also be quite wealthy and may have/can accustom a lot of wealth from your career. The person who gets 3 promotions while others struggle kinda energy.

☆Ruler 10th in 3rd: You can be very witty, street smart, or intelligent overall. There is a charisma to you that may only appear when you speak or say something. You are likely to be very persuasive, silver tongue energy. You may be talked about for your smartness, your ability to have someone in a chokehold almost, and always getting your way. Your educational matters, what you write/create may also be important to people. People may always like to have receipts or transcripts of your conversation with them lmao.

☆Ruler 10th in 4th: You very likely are shy/introverted types and would rather prefer not being talked about...but here's the thing, in all the water houses, (4th/8th/12th) this almost gives an element of secrecy to you which makes you even more talked about. You could be talked about for your shyness, your sweetness, because you are very very likely to give that "boy/girl next door" energy. Very adored by people, almost like a child. People can also get very protective over you, they have you in their hearts almost.

☆Ruler 10th in 5th: You are someone who would out of all of these placements, always be talked about, maybe even gossiped, because there is actually so much about you. You have that impulsive energy. The world does not stop for you, and you most likely would not care much about things like these, for more than 10 minutes at most. You are also extremely charismatic. People could be very very drawn to you in an impulsively-romantic manner ahem if ykwim. Your love affairs may also catch a lot of attention. Your passion towards everything, from love to your work may also be in attention

☆Ruler 10th in 6th: People like these are often "household names". Everyone knows them, everyone talks about them, for either good or bad reasons, almost everyday, kind of like the important colleague at work who even when takes a day off, people won't stop calling them. You are very very helpful, and kind in nature, very serviceable and you are known for your humbleness, and kindness to never really decline a work. When most in need, you are the one who is thought about the very first. You could also be really good in sports/dance or such activities and may be talked about for your physical agility.

☆Ruler 10th in 7th: Ah, this is a double way placement, you love people, people love you back. You are very likely to be the person who is friends with everyone, or atleast known, and hardly has ever had conflict or tension with anyone. Very easy to go along with. You are very likely to be talked about/known for this. People can sometimes suspect you for being surficial almost, because you never really feel that go beyond the "boundary" you've set for yourself and others. You are good at communication but do not get swayed away, basically, you can small talk. Your spouse may be talked about too for they may be known.

☆Ruler 10th in 8th: You are someone who is talked about a lot actually, but like I said previously, you would avoid it a lot. You seem very unapproachable mostly, and people may get intimidated by you a lot, more than you think. People may mostly be attracted to your charm and charisma that comes from your misery, and may often fail to look behind the veil, really, in some deeper meaning and this may annoy you a lot. You could purposefully avoid people or vice versa. However, you tend to have a lot of people wanting to know, may be even out of ego boost, because it seems like a daunting task in itself. Your past may be a topic of discussion for people. People who have been near you may talk about how deep and almost addicting you are. Your traumas may be inspiring to masses, so if you are able to articulate them at your pace and help other people please do. People may always like to suspect that you have seen something in life to have withdrawn or be so seclusive like that, and even when you are with people, them may always feel as if you're hiding something. (same for 12th housers actually).

☆Ruler 10th in 9th: You are like to come off as kind, sweet and jolly. Extremely easy going, "happy-go-lucky" energy. You inspire people, in a positive manner. You are someone who is automatically the one who people find friendly, easy and reliable and the one to learn from, take lessons and advice from, because you come off as experienced, open minded and non judgmental. Your are mostly talked in a very positive manner, and people would like to justify your actions in most of the things, its hard to paint you as the bad guy. Very likely to be charitable and being known for it.

☆Ruler 10th in 10th: Ah, you are the one who can actually easily control and manipulate their public image easily if they would like to, you guys usually have the key. Honestly, there is nothing very specific that you may be talked for, because different people would get different impressions from you, and everyone may present a different opinion of you. You are likely to be good with social images, and social cues, so it very likely is not a problem for you. You are also extremely attention catching, for whatever reason it may be depending on the sign and planet. You could also be considered very independent and skilled in what you do, and people you entertain.

☆Ruler 10th in 11th: You are actually very well liked, without people knowing anything about you, even if there's malefics aspecting your 11th house or something. People who see you in bad light or try to see you in bad light may not be able to do that or atleast speak out clearly because someone would always come out in your support and say something, so usually people are neutral or positive about you mostly lmao. People may especially desire to be near you, be your friend or known, almost like a fan culture. You are very yourself and that authenticity may attract people, but here's the thing, you actually knowingly/unknowingly know what parts of yourself to actually show, even tho they're real. Also good socially and picking up cues.

☆Ruler 10th in 12th: Ok guys no one really knows about you, you won. Why I say that? Because most of guys PURPOSEFULLY would want to conceal yourself for some reason. You may desire that vulnerability but may deny yourself such thing, out of fear especially. Very paranoid kind of nature. This does not come naturally to you, but you enforce this so much that it becomes natural. You are not scary, but almost, invisible in a way, but there is almost a charm, a mystery to you that is very sweet and alluring in a way. People who have gotten close to you, would tell other people how almost hypnotizing you are because they felt so understood. Your past struggles are usually recognized and acknowledged by people, but at the same time, people who did not notice you or take you for granted, may casually walk over it, so be sure to give them a kick in the shins as needed to remind them that you are invisible but wantingly. Lmao I kinda wanna quote that Weeknd lyric "everytime you try to forget who I am, I'll be right there to remind you again". Your traumas may be inspiring to masses, so if you are able to articulate them at your pace and help other people please do. People may always like to suspect that you have seen something in life to have withdrawn or be so seclusive like that, and even when you are with people, them may always feel as if you're hiding something.

take care

xoxo

[lietogirlsss]

COULDN'T MAKE IT ANY HARDER !

joaquin torres x fem!reader

: in which you and joaquin have known eachother as teenagers. You thought he was a pain in the ass and he spent everyday proving you wrong. Now that he's Captain America's protege, you've gotten a call that he was in the hospital after falling into the Indian Ocean, you'd do anything to go back to those days again.

: this was hardkey inspired by danny's interview in a talkshow, the coincidences are WILD. For the purpose of the plot, you and joaquin grew up in Miami.

: use of petnames, swearing, blood, implied death, implied murder, police chases, sort of spicy scene.

MIAMI, 2017

"CHECK IT OUT! I'M GUNNA DO IT!"

"JOAQUIN YOU ASSHAT GET DOWN FROM THERE! WE'RE GUNNA GET CAUGHT!"

You push your sunglasses above your eyes as you whirl over your shoulder to see Joaquin and another one of your friends Javi clamber on top of a second floor balcony overlooking the pool where all eight of you had broken into instead of attending 7th period on a particularly sweltering Friday afternoon. The news forecast advised everybody to stay inside and to hydrate frequently, but then again it was Florida, so naturally it fell on deaf ears.

The entire hotel, was closed off because of a bedbug infestation reported by a couple of tourists flocking to Miami because of summer, it's been a month since they fumigated the entire hotel and all you had to do was dodge a couple security guards. Which wasn't hard at all, you and your friend Sofia who was in your AP Physics class just fluttered your eyelashes at them long enough so that the others could get in.

Sofia who was currently in the water waded towards you who was propped up on your elbows, glancing up at Joaquin and Javi in the distance with stupidly wide grins on their faces, illuminated by scattered rays of golden sunlight shining through the trees from the penthouse. "We're gunna be busted thanks to them."

"Hey, why do you look so worried? I thought you wanted to skip class with us?" You wondered, raising a quizzical brow at her.

"I did, but now I think I shoulda just sat this one out. Listen to a white man teach me a language I already know." Sofia professed, taking a swig of Bud Light. "What if we get caught, man? If my parents find out about this i'm screwed."

"No pasa nada, If your parents are gunna chew you up so are mine, alright? We're in this together." You reassure her, laughing through your nose. "Besides, school ends tomorrow, they shouldn't get their panties in such a twist." Your statement then earns you a poke in the side making you cringe and let out a cackle.

You watch as Joaquin and Javi shimmy in front of the handrails of the balcony clearly preparing themselves to jump, in Joaquin's hand was a can of PBR, the cloud like carbonation from the beer was fizzing out from a slit on the side so that he and Javi could shotgun before diving into the pool. You watch how the liquid runs down Joaquin's arm, eventually making an unattractive splattering sound on the floor below.

"WHO WANTS TO SEE ME AND JAVI SHOTGUN THIS BEER BEFORE DIVING INTO THE POOL?!?"

The rest of your friends cheered and hollered. But you scoffed, immensely unimpressed, you always thought Joaquin was incredibly full of himself and was the main reason all of you kept getting caught, sure you shouldn't be there in certain places in first place but sneaking into them would have been a hell of a lot easier without Joaquin roping in Javi to do stupid stunts with him. You scoffed once more as you turn your attention back to your phone to choose another song from your playlist; But before you could shove your earbud back into your left ear you hear Joaquin yell,

"WHAT DO YOU SAY Y/N? YOU THINK I CAN MAKE THE JUMP?"

You shoot him a disdained look, scowling from your spot by the pool. "Hopefully not, maybe then your mother would actually be proud of something you did."

Joaquin jeers playfully, even going as far as pouting at you from such a distance. "Oh come on angel! Have some faith in me!"

"Yeah Y/N! have some faith!" Javi chimes in, delighted as ever.

You shift your body in such a way that your front would be fully facing him. "I don't wanna have to explain to your mother her son nose dived onto solid concrete, I don't think I'd be able to keep a straight face."

Joaquin in return makes a face at you, half in disbelief, half in amusement whilst on the brink of laughter yet again. "Oh trust me, you'd be devastated if anything happened to this face." He replies all bold and cocksure.

You hummed. "I don't even think you can spell devastated if your life depended on it."

"¡Carajo, can too!" He riposted confidently. "How about this, every time I get a letter correct is how long we gotta kiss."

You laugh through your nose as everyone around you started hooting and hollering. "Where are we middle school? Please, if I wanted a kiss that badly I would've just stuck my face in front of a slobbering dog, even then it would be less sloppy."

Joaquin then makes a face, almost like he's just been stabbed. You roll your eyes at him for the umpteenth time. "I can't tell you how hurtful that is to me, especially since we've never even kissed before so you're basically going off on nothing here."

"And I'd like to keep it that way." You drawled as a matter of factly.

"If you two end up killing yourselves before graduation I'm actually going to burn you alive!" Another one of your friends Isabelle yelled from the edge of the pool before your other friend Mason grabs her by the waist and leaped into the pool with her. Everyone erupts in a chorus of laughter.

"What do you say Y/N? You up for it?" Joaquin hollers.

"In your-"

Your statement was short-lived when all of you hear shuffling from one of the farthest hallways almost like running. Your head snaps towards that direction just seconds before you heard the security guards yelling expletives and empty threats. All 8 of you scampered off with your shit, some leaping out of the pool, some even leaving their shoes behind. You sling your bag over your shoulder and start running towards the exit, in your peripheral you spot Joaquin and Javi climbing back onto the balcony as you follow Sofia out of there.

The guards were relentless despite their physique, being able to stay hot on your tail as you, Sofia, and Mason dart off in different directions, not before agreeing to meet up at a local mom n' pop shop a couple blocks from there that sold "naturally flavored" slushees. As you tiptoed your way through the barren outdoor bar, you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder as the blazing afternoon sun battered it's unforgiving rays onto your face which made your hair cling to your skin uncomfortably, not a gust of wind blowing past.

Then you suddenly felt a hand wrap its fingers around your arm making you whirl around in shock, only to be met by Joaquin shooting you one of his signature shrewd yet saccharine smiles, a lone finger resting atop his lips as the sun illuminated his skin like it was glittering gold. Glittering gold? What are you? a fucking poet?

You tugged your hand forcefully out of his grasp, snapping yourself out of it. "You asshole! What the fuck were you thinking?!?"

Joaquin chuckles at your face, how your narrowed eyes expressed both disdain, relief and also an intense blaze of hatred. "That's a little hurtful don't you think? Whatever happened to 'hey joaquin?' or maybe even a 'sup sexy', hmm?"

You shoot him a deranged look as you jab him in the side causing him to recoil in pain. "I thought I was caught! What the fuck man?!?"

"Do you really think a guard would hold your arm the way I did?" Joaquin wheezed out, a certain sourness to his face as he kneads his gut. "Some fucking guard, I was being gentle as hell."

You roll your eyes at his excessive dramatics. "Oh come on, I didn't hit you that hard... Did I? "

"You definitely didn't." He says, making your face crease even more. "It's just that while we were running away I fell down a flight of stairs tryna get away from the guards, landed on my side, heard a crack. They almost cuffed my ass."

Your eyes widen, shame and regret overcoming you as you realize maybe you shouldn't have punched him. "Oh shit-! Oh my god I'm so sorry... Lemme take a look-" You babble abashed, eyes zeroing on the area where Joaquin had his hand pressed against.

"Hey, no, it's alright." He insists, a coy smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. "I'm alright angel I swear-"

"The hell you are, just lemme take a look, coño." You counter. "Here, lift up your shirt, I gotta see if it's swelling-"

After all that he still manages to laugh. "Can't a girl take a guy out to dinner first? Damn."

"Shut up." You say, focused, swatting his hand away. "Let me look at it, Joaquin."

"Dawww, look at you all concerned about me." He crooned, giving you a dopey smile. "Makes me actually wish I threw myself down a flight of stairs."

You take a step back, glaring at him in disbelief. "Oh you're sick."

"I think you mispronounced 'devilishly handsome'."

You scoffed, walking away from him before he jogs up to you, facing you as he starts walking backwards. "Hey, look, it isn't funny I got it. Apology accepted? Great! thanks. I knew you'd come around, angel."

"I actually thought I hurt you, dumbass."

"Hey, you could never hurt me, not for lack of trying but definitely because you don't know how to throw a punch for your life."

"Oh my god!" You exclaim in irritation.

"Look at you all hot and bothered." Joaquin guffaws at your face. "I wasn't the one that wanted to see me strip myself shirtless out in the open like this."

You pinch the bridge of your nose. "I swear to fucking God you're gunna wish-"

"HEY I CAN HEAR SOME OF 'EM OVER HERE!"

You and Joaquin turn your heads towards the voice before glancing at each other. "You wanna hold onto that sentiment?"

"Actually, I think this argument can wait. Part 2?"

"Jesus, just can't get enough of me, can you?" Joaquin accuses, shaking his head at you in disbelief. "I hate to say it, I think you're obsessed with me."

"You wish." You say biting down a grin with everything in you whilst pushing him away, hearing his raucuous laugh as both of you ran off as fast as you could. You don't realize he grabbed your hand and pulled you along with him this entire time until the both of you managed to run 3 blocks in the summer heat and he lets go of your hand to open the door to the mom n' pop store.

WASHINGTON, 2027

After hours upon hours of surgery Joaquin finally wakes up. His eyelids fluttering open as if it had been the first time in a long time, to a fancy hospital room with scattered beams of sunlight streaming in through the windows.

The last thing he recalls is him flying over Celestial Island, a misunderstanding with Sam which led to a sudden outward burst of bright orange engulfing him, and the faintest feeling of being pulled downwards from the sky. But he didn't expect you sitting on the armchair beside him with your head rested on your hand, eyes shut, and lips parted as he picks up on your soft snoring

Still incredibly lethargic, Joaquin couldn't help but grin at the sight of you. Oh, if only he had the strength to reach over to the bedside table to get his phone and take a picture. He would never let you live it down. In fact he'd probably print multiple copies of it and give them to you every Christmas.

Just as he was entertaining the thought in his mind, he sees you stir in the chair; letting out a large yawn, you blink repeatedly as your eyes try to get used to the brightness of the room.

"Wakey, wakey." Joaquin teased, causing your head to snap up at him in surprise. His voice still evidently hoarse never lacked the amusement it held whenever he was a conversation with you. "you came all this way just to visit me?"

You smiled, laughing through your nose. "I didn't have any plans for the weekend." You shrug, rubbing your eye free of the film that stuck it together. "Thought I'd drop by, see how terrible you look."

"Oh yeah? What's your verdict?" Joaquin implored.

"You look like if a sock monkey was put through a meat grinder." You say, punctuating your statement with a giggle that made Joaquin's internal organs do a somersault. "Then again you always look this chopped."

"Wow, way to kick a man while he's down." He replies, fake hurt. "I fell outta the sky a couple days ago, don't I get a day off from your... colorful opinions?"

You shook your head at him. "Nah, not when you made me your emergency contact." You shift in your position, boxing your arms over your chest as you look down at Joaquin with an almost cocksure expression. "Although I do have to say thank you, I met Captain America AND The Winter Soldier. On the same day."

Joaquin tilts his head back against the pillow, grinning at the cieling in disbelief. "See? And you're still convinced I don't do anything for you."

Your snort, chuckling loudly. "For a moment I nearly forgot I ran three red lights for you, all I could think about was how well Bucky fit in that suit-"

"-Three red lights? " Joaquin echoes suddenly, furrowing his eyebrows at you. "Damn, see this is why I made you my emergency contact, you're not afraid to break traffic rules."

"I could think of a dozen other people that you could've thought of before you chose me." You retaliated.

"Oh yeah? Do you think they had the guts to run a red light let alone three?"

"All three of your siblings maybe?" You suggest comically. "I dunno, just choose one. They'd be more than willing to run every red light possible."

"Red lights sure, but they weren't ballsy enough to break into a skate park with me at 4am on a school night just to hang out." He argued, smiling at you. "And of course there was that whole fiasco with the hotel on Hibiscus Avenue-"

"Irrelevant, we did that with a ton of friends."

"Yeah sure, let's leave out the fact that we made out twice afterwards." He rolled his eyes. "We didn't do that with 'a ton of friends'." He emphasized, almost mocking you.

You gawk at him in disbelief. "Low. We were 18."

"Hey, at least you can say you made out with The Falcon." Joaquin laughed at you. "Not many people can say that. Now that everybody knows about me because I fell into the stupid ocean you can pull that card whenever you like."

A moments pause.

"Captain America said they had to restart your heart." You brought up, staring at the ECG monitor before sighing. "What were you tryna prove now?"

"That I could do it." He says honestly, the answer practically lunging out of his mouth. "That I could be the next Falcon."

"Except you nearly died." You tell Joaquin, he takes note of your posture, sitting stiffly in the chair as the conversation takes a turn.

"I came back." Joaquin reasoned weakly. "The man upstairs let me off on a warning, says I still got some shit I gotta finish."

"Clearly its because He didn't want anyone face-planting into pillars or pissing off any of the cherubs." You sneered, causing him to let out a huff of laughter. "Its not like you've matured much since we last met. You're still crashing into shit, leaping off shit."

"-Excuse you, that's called falling with style." Joaquin insisted as a matter of factly. "If i learned anything about watching Disney movies everyday when I was a little kid is that Buzz Lightyear would be stinkin' proud if he could see where I am right now."

You don't roll your eyes at him or scoff at him or make yet another witty remark, what you did do surprised him and even you. Your eyes suddenly appeared to be more glassier than usual, you scratch the inner corner of your eye as you frowned at him. "I thought I lost you." You say, the instability of your tone was what made Joaquin's throat tighten.

"I'm still here, I'm right here." Joaquin assured you. "You know a little tumble can't stop me."

"What if next time you don't get so lucky, huh?" You wonder quietly. "What if this is the last time you injure yourself and I don't get to see you wake up high as a fucking kite and grinning at me like I just told you I introduced you to Antman?"

He manages to laugh through his nose. "Angel, have a little faith in me, would you?"

You bristle in your spot, feeling fully awake now. "I hate the fact that you keep putting yourself in situations where you can get hurt. What if eventually my faith just won't cut it anymore? You can't fucking blame me for living in fear." You argue with him as you wept, tears coursing down your cheeks as you chased at them with your palms.

"We aren't kids in Miami anymore, you're not in the air force, you're a superhero. You've got two feet in the grave at this point and I think you're just waiting for someone with a shovel."

Joaquin eyes begun to sting. "That's not fair." He says quietly, shaking his head. "I'm trying to make a difference in the world, a real difference." You knew he was, the both of you grew up watching the Avengers fight crime in New York, then in Sokovia. Now several years later they've got someone that looks like Joaquin helping out the common man. Sure it was a huge difference but you couldn't deny how terrified you were every time you got an update from him saying he was on a new mission with Captain America.

"It wouldn't matter, not when I lose you in the process." You tell him honestly, seeing a tear escape the corner of his eye. "Look we're friends, I- I care about you."

"I care about you too." Joaquin replies, almost a little too quickly, possibly to mask the overwhelming ache in his chest when you bring up the fact that you are just friends. "Maybe a lot. Hell you're the reason I'm here right now."

You stop to glare at him. "Okay, rude."

"Remember when I told you I only enlisted in the air force because my family couldn't afford to send me off to college?"

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

"We still didn't, but the real reason why is that I wanted to impress you." Joaquin professed, looking back at you with a half-smile, like he didn't just throw you in for a loop. "I know it's stupid-"

"It is, it really is." You interrupt him mid-speech.

"Look, all I wanted is for you to think I'm great..." Joaquin admitted loudly silencing you. Though he regrets it a second later as he wets his lips, lost in thought before speaking once more. "I thought that- that if I made something of myself then maybe you didn't look at me like I was just someone you grew up with that pissed you off all the damn time."

"Why?" You wonder, your brows still furrowed.

Joaquin opens his mouth, then closes it and lets out a huff of laughter. "I dunno, maybe cuz I sort of had a big fat crush on you in highschool."

"Oh yeah, I didn't pick up on that at all." You drawled sarcastically causing Joaquin to laugh at himself in embarrassment prompting you to chuckle at his face.

"Now this is the part where you say you liked me too."

"Is it?" You wonder, drying your eyes. "Huh... too bad."

"Now this is the feeling of getting shot a hundred times." He says with realization.

"You gotta get used to it. You're The Falcon now, you can't cry if you stubbed a toe while trying to do the Michael Jackson lean."

"Hey that toe actually broke, you know."

"You're not helping yourself in this situation." You shook your head as you find yourself laughing at him again. "We really can't have one serious conversation."

If it was possible, Joaquin's smile grows wider. "Admit it, I make you laugh and you love it."

"Never in a million years." You enunciate. "And it dosent count because you're high."

"Me??? High???" He wonders almost scandalised. "Pshhh watch this, D-E-V-A-S-T-E-D."

That gets the tiniest chuckle out of you. "Well done, does somebody want a treat?"

"Nah, I want something better." He says, almost like he was alluding to something you're clearly not aware of.

You shook your head at him as it finally dawned on you. "Hell no, Joaquin."

"Come on!" He insisted as you hide your face in your hands. "You remember that day in the Hotel right?"

"I'm not kissing you, your breath smells terrible."

"Ahhh so you haven't forgotten. I knew it." Joaquin guffawed, nodding.

"How many times do I gotta say no before you actually listen to me?" You clapped back, almost challenging him.

"D'you wanna find out? Because pucker up buttercu-"

He is swiftly silenced by the sudden collision of your lips onto his, he shuts his eyes closed as you re-angle your face, deepening the kiss. You feel his cold hands cup the side of your jaw, you flinch. He grins against your lips, he's definitely noticed. In return, you gently nibble on his lower lip making him let out a low groan that made you quiver, you lean in closer as if the pair of you weren't close enough at this point, your chest and his near centimetres apart, your heartbeats melding into one.

An intense fervor flourished to life within you as he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear, the strand of hair being draped over your face on account of having to lean closer to him. Joaquin moved his hands to grip the base of your neck just as his tongue entered your mouth, you allow him in as both of you passionately duel against eachother as if there was a battle to be won. No, Joaquin had to remind himself the fighting was in the past, all he could feel, all he could touch, all he could smell was you. All there was, was you. And that was a thousand victories on its own.

"Shit- angel... you're tryna kill me." He mumbled so quietly it made you chase at his lips, effectively shutting him up.

"That enough not to make you leave?" You answered, the kiss intensifying a hundred fold. Teeth clashing together, the sound of you and Joaquin gasping for air without having to pull away, laboured breaths in between the sound of poppysmic, and the sheets shuffling.

Suddenly the door knob turns and you and Joaquin pull away instantly, it was almost comical. It was the nurse with a concerned look on her face and a clipboard in her hands. "Is everything alright in here?"

Joaquin clears his throat, glancing back at you who was slouched in the armchair, scratching the side of your mouth. "Uhhh- y-yeah, yeah everything's uhm... fine."

"You two sure?" The nurse reiterates. "His heart rate spiked up all of a sudden, gave us all quite a scare out there."

You finally spoke up. "Sorry, no, we were just... laughing at the birds... outside."

"Uh-huh, you shoulda seen them... one of them was doing the Russian folk dance." Joaquin supplements, his statement falling apart mid-sentence. He makes a subtle face at you in confusion to which you mirror.

The nurse raises a quizzical brow at the pair of you, she takes note of the flushed cheeks and the apparent yet awkward looks you had on your faces that you two failed at hiding. She glances back at the monitor, Joaquin's heartrate wasn't as rampant as before as it began decreasing by the second.

"I'll come back in a while, keep that heart rate of yours in check pretty boy."

"Isn't that kinda your job?"

"Excuse me? "

"That was outta line... that's my bad." Joaquin replies quickly, offering an apologetically cheeky smile as the nurse shuts the door behind her, muttering to herself.

You and Joaquin then look at eachother.

"You know... that's three now." He suddenly says.

"Oh, so we're keeping count? " You bounce back, sitting up.

"Yeah, so we can keep breaking that record..." Joaquin paused. "If you're interested." He suggested coyly causing you to roll your eyes at him again, trying your best not to let him see the red tint blossoming from your cheeks.

You hummed out a laugh. "Try and get outta that hospital bed first, let's see what happens."

[angryonabus]

100% agreed with everything above - kids are people, and deserve to be treated as such.

For those of who you are maybe not super plugged in to What It's Like To Be A Teenager Today, a brief anecdote under the cut.

I teach high school seniors, which means that every year I am presented anew with the horrors of the modern college admissions process. For context, I teach in the US, in a fairly affluent suburb of a largeish city, and I teach an upper-level class; most of my students are high-achieving kids for whom the question has never been, "are you going to college?" but always, "where are you going to college?"

Let's start with the applications themselves. I'm just over 20 years out of HS myself, meaning that I was just at the beginning of the group for whom applications were completed online: colleges had websites, but you downloaded the application and completed it by hand; you typed your essays, but then you printed them and mailed them with your completed application.

I applied to 6 schools, which was a lot even in my cohort of high-achieving nerdchildren. 3 or 4 was more usual: one safety, one 'stretch' school, one or two schools you were really interested in.

The average for my students is somewhere around sixteen. Sixteen applications! Even if you assume most of those schools use the Common Application, that's an incredible amount of work — not to mention the application fees, because those certainly haven't gone away.

My students also have access to an absolutely unreal amount of data about their chances of getting in to a given school. There are calculators online where you plug in your entire HS transcript, your SAT/ACT scores, how many AP exams you've taken and how you expect to do on them, where you're from, what extracurricular activities you're involved in, and the website will spit out a % chance that you will be admitted. They do this for every school - some of them re-do it every time grades come out.

And then there's the admissions. Some schools, I think, still send actual physical admissions letters; others do it via email. For a lot of schools, though, it's via the school's online portal: a school will announce that they'll be releasing decisions at 6PM on X date, and applicants will all log in to see whether they've been admitted or not.

...and at 6:02, they're all posting on social media about their results.

I don't know about you, but if I had had to deal with that — with performing my reactions to that kind of information in real time in front of all of my peers — I wouldn't have gone to college at all; it's even odds whether I would have simply walked into the ocean to live out my days on the sea floor or gone into the woods to be a hermit.

And that's all without talking about the cost of college — more expensive than ever, at a time when everything else is also more expensive than ever! and please don't get me started talking about how student loans will be (mis)handled under the current administration! — or the way that a college degree is no longer a guarantee of stable employment, or even adequate employment, or even any employment at all — or the attacks on colleges and college students for expressing their opinions — or any of the other ten million things that are shitty and hard right now.

consider: teenagers aren’t apathetic about everything they’re just used to you shitting all over whatever they show excitement about

[sglossmin]

Muse | MYG

Plot: What happens when the man you practically simp over in high school, is right now, sitting across you after almost 10 years of not seeing him? Worse? You're here for an appointment for therapy and he's your psychologist.

Pairing: SeniorStudent!Yoongi x JuniorStudent!Reader ---> Psychologist! Yoongi x Artist!Reader

Genre: Fluff, slight age gap, slice of life, a bit of angst, schoolmates to lovers(?)

Warnings: talks about mental and death...erm lemme know if you found any disturbing heh

Word count: dunno

A/N: This is...actually some sort of based irl looll (only the high school scenes, most of it) This is my first one shot work! Let me know if I'm lacking something. The current series that I'm still working rn is still not even half finished T_T T_T So I thought I might give it a try---write a oneshot heh I just started here to write in tumblr so I still don't know that much stuff. Feel free to comment so I can improve!! Ik some of those thing weren't even a thing at that time...

"Shit..." I muttered right as I saw the man in a white coat, a clipboard in his arms while his hair softly falls down in his brows, reading his next patient's data. Just like the last time I saw him. Weird, huh? It's been years, yet... he still looks just the same.

Our eyes met, for the first time in a while. He frowned, it was so subtle and fast, no one would even know. But I did. Every little actions that he did, I always notice it. No matter what. I keep saying that the Y/n who just hit her puberty is no longer me, yet with my emotions right now, I can feel like my hormones are all over the place.

"Sit down," he smiled, gesturing the seat across him.

His voice so deep it sounds like soothing lullaby... Eyes so tired that I can tell he works so well... The warmth in his smile makes my heart skip a beat, forgetting why am I here in the first place...

Snap of it!

It took me a second to realize that I stared at him for too long. I cleared my throat, wishing my embarrassment would also go away. I smiled as I took the seat.

Our session ended without him saying that he at least recognize me. Did it made me upset? Yeah... sort of. I mean, I didn't go there and paid him to reminisce our high school days, but still...

I huffed as I crumpled a paper.

"Ugh! Really? Y/n? Still drawing him?"

I uncrumpled it and stared at the newly drawing for a while. I leaned back in my chair and sighed... "I'll give it to him. He looks hot in that coat." I chuckled and stuck the paper back in my notebook. "I'm keeping it because I drew him too good, not that I still like him or anything. That would be just so stupid."

Ha! Right! Nothing else. I smiled, pleased with how I gaslight myself.

I stretched my back and arms. My body ached for having a shrimp position for a long time.

And before I know it, I fell asleep (again) in my studio.

Summer 2010

Our last subject just finished and it's still raining heavily. I have no umbrella so my friends and I were forced to run. Reaching the covered court, I groaned. "Why call it summer when it rains this heavy??"

"Do they really think—us—high school students are waterproof?" Exclaimed by Sana while Chaeyoung just chuckled beside us. Our clothes were pretty wet but not that drenched.

We went upstage since there's some chair in there. Putting our bags down, we wait for the rain to stop. Us juniors only have to spend half day in the campus. Lucky, huh?

"Stay here, hm? You both can't leave me just because you guys have umbrella to share and your house are close." I glared at the both of them while they just snickered. They won't leave me otherwise, I know that.

It's been an hour, yet the rain don't seem to plan on stopping. It's about 1 now, we think. Seems like we're the only junior students in the campus. Suddenly, the seniors from the front building went outside. They went in the cover court. They were wearing some sort of costumes. It was ridiculous—Okay, not really. They seemed like they're going to dance.

We sat still from above across them and watch them prepare.

"Hey, Chae, wanna play?" I grinned as I whispered. Sana was too occupied with her phone that's why it was just the two of us who played.

We played Smash or Pass with every senior guy that I pointed. Until finally, I pointed it to the guy who's wearing a Thai hat(?) The gold ones, it seems like part of their costume.

"Hm... Smash!" Chaeyoung laughed and I did too. Cause miraculously, SAME.

We had a great laugh realizing we'd say smash.

We watched them dance and sing along with the music that were playing. Thinking about it, we might actually look like idiots. They can practically see us sing and dance with them since we're upstage.

After a while, I asked Chae, "What nickname should we give him?" It's our thing. Giving nicknames to people whether they look good or annoying. I think it's every friend groups should do.

"He looks like a cat and his eyes disappear too when he smiles... Kitty?"

"Kitty...?" Sounds weird so I proposed to change it. "What about Neko? Same meaning but doesn't sound weird." She agreed and since then, we called him Neko. With his sharp eyes and pale tone, he does looks like a kitty.

Few moments after, we planned a scheme. We went down to compare our height to his. We walked towards him as if we were just passing by and about to go to the canteen instead.

My and Chae's eyes went wide open. Gasping and staring at each other, the signal were sent.

Gosh, he's tall.

Oh gosh, he is.

A day or two passed since that. We randomly saw him when we went to buy in the canteen.

Then again.

And again.

And again.

Untill a few days have been passed and I keep on seeing him. To the point that... maybe... just maybe, it wasn't really a coincidence anymore.

New character unlocked?

When we were about to go back in our room, we met Hani. My bestfriend in elementary days.

"Y/n! Come here! Imma show you something. Actually—no—It's a someone." Hani dragged me and Chae went along with me.

Hani rant about how this guy looks so good, that in the first time in a while, they found someone who actually looks good in this campus.

Chae and I eyed each other. Were we thinking who we're thinking?

As we reached the third floor of the first year's building, across it was the senior's building. We stopped our track right in front of the exact room. The windows were open and from our spot, we can literally see him studying.

"Neko?"

"You know him?" Hani asked in which I nod.

I think we just found our sweet spot.

Chae and I sometimes went up there just to catch a glimpse of him. It was stupid and fun.

Until that day came.

As usual, Chae and I went to the third floor once again. We stayed in the balcony that faces their room. It was break time so everyone was all over the place. Then I felt it. Chae poked my side and pointed my front. I frowned and followed her finger. There was it, his teacher raising her brow at me. Then his classmates turned their heads toward me... 'till lastly, he did. Everyone was looking at ME. I noticed Chae was hiding on the wall divider of the balcony. I looked back at the teacher who's still looking at me.

"Do you need anything, Ms?" We were quite far but it was still audible.

"H-huh..?" That was all I could muster. It was even barely a whisper. My mouth was slightly open due to not knowing what to do nor say. It lasted like that for a few more seconds. Until I mustered all the courage and pride I have left in my body and shrugged it off and walked away. Frowning as if they got it wrong and I was simply hanging out there.

Walk

Walk

RUN

I went back to our room as soon as I noticed Chae was following me. When we get back, we were panting and sweating. Our classmates looked at us with weird looks. Not that I can blame them. One of our classmate asked us and we did tell the story.

It was our last time going in there.

I felt someone flick my head. I groaned in annoyance.

"Noona, wake up!"

I grumbled as I sit up straight, realizing I fell asleep in the studio again.

"You know you don't have to flick me. Between the two of us, I'm the light sleeper." I mumbled while my eyes were focusing on the big guy in front of me.

He rolled his eyes at me. Up to this day, I wondered who did he got it from. "Eomma wants you to eat lunch with us."

I chuckled. "Your mother did? Wow, what a pleasure." I sassed.

He groaned and plopped himself at the couch. "Can't believe you still resent her."

"Kook, what kind of a daughter am I if I don't?"

Jungkook threw a pillow to me as he stood up. "Still. Eat with us."

And just like that, he walked away.

Life goes on, that's what they say.

I must've been nuts for going to therapy yesterday. It's not like, I'm seriously depressed.

Right..?

Living alone in the house that came from the paycheck of my drawings must be really the best accomplishment I've had. Who would've thought the high achieving in academics girl would end up in this job. It was pure mystery.

I stared at my empty fridge. I smiled. The only thing that kept me sane nowadays is this...

"Looks like, I need to go... shopping."

I grinned ear to ear while I spent my fortune.

"Who needs therapy, when you can go and do your grocery."

I picked out the foods I knew I'd eat while I finish the new dramas. I was about to get the last stock of my fave gummies until someone practically snatched it. Fast.

"H-hey-" I cut off myself from shouting when I realized who it was.

It was him. In normal clothes. Am I dreaming? Impossible. He wouldn't have clothes in the first place if I am.

"Oh, Ms Jeon." He smiled.

Smiled?

He has the nerve to smile after taking that gummy?

But... then again, who need those gummy bears when his gummy smile is practically the sweetest.

He cleared his throat. "Seems like we'll be seeing each other more often."

Uh...what? Is he trying to say that I have a severe mental illness so we'll literally see each other more?? This fucker...

He probably noticed my frown as he chuckled and shook his head. "Uhm, that might've come off the wrong way. I meant, I just moved in in this neighborhood."

Sorry, what..?

I laughed my nervousness away. It's not like we'll be neighbors. This neighborhood is way too big for us to see each other.

Is that why it was my first time seeing him in this grocery store?

"Well, welcome to the neighborhood." I chuckled, probably awkwardly and excused myself.

Damn it. It could've been my chance for us to talk and stuff, but I refused. I mean, with my looks right now? No thanks.

I skipped my lunch and didn't go to our family's house. I plopped myself on my bed and took out my old sketchbook.

Staring at my old drawings of him, it sure did bring back of the memories.

2010

It's been a month yet we still don't know his name. We already did a lot of different shenanigans just to know it. He must be really like having a low profile. We found his classmate's account yet his are nowhere to be found. Maybe he doesn't go online...

I was staring at my computer, scrolling on whatever stuff pop up, then it hits me. Her sister. Hani's sister!

They're in the same year, so maybe, just maybe, she knows his name.

I quickly typed in to ask her. A girl from our year had a picture with him posted. I sent it to her.

"Hi eonni, can I ask u a question? Is there a chance that you know him?"

*Photo sent*

It took a while for her to respond.

"Uhm yeah, he's from our year"

"Can you tell me his name?"

"Min Yoongi"

"I think that's his name"

Min Yoongi... cute. It suits him.

Hours and hours later, I still couldn't find his account. Then as I was searching, there was this account, he was friends with Hani.

My eyes widen. "Min Suga? Could it be?"

I stalked the account and it was really him. No wonder I couldn't find his account—he wasn't using his real name! Likes to keep a low profile? Bullshit. He has more than 5k followers!

Moreover...he really...looks good.

I wonder if his face reflects his personality.

I added him as a friend and waited for the request to be accepted. I told Chae that if he didn't accepted it within 24 hours, I'll delete my request. I still have pride you know. Don't want to be one of those girls in his inbox.

It hasn't even been an hour and I got the notification. He accepted it! I squealed and danced in my room.

This is what being a youth, right?

I clicked my tongue as I chuckled bitterly. "Youth is never coming back."

As I turn the pages more, my bell ringed. Jungkook never ring first, he just comes in whenever he wants to. I should really change the passcode. As for my mom, she never really bother coming here.

Expecting no one, I opened the door, only to gape at the man in front of me.

"You...like pies?"

Min Yoongi, in front of me, holding a pie, not just holding, but giving..?

"Uh...how close is your house exactly?" I didn't mean to sound rude, but rather genuinely curious.

He hesitatingly pointed the house across me.

The Kim's house?

"It was my friend's grandparents who lived there. He took them to take care of them and then he sold this house to me." Yoongi explained. His face going like this :]

"So you really did mean that we'll see each other more often..." I mumbled in which he caught. He laughed and gave me the pie.

"My mom kept on nagging me on giving pies. She really worked hard on it. Hope you like it!"

She's here?

I nodded and thanked him. He went back and I did too. The smell of the freshly baked peach mango pie really did things to my stomach.

For the first time, Min Yoongi gave me something.

Spring 2011

"Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I murmured while we wait in the senior's balcony. A few steps away from him, we waited. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him." I mumbled. "He didn't even read my text..." I mumbled. Chaeyoung was practically dragging me. "Look, he seems busy too."

"Would you rather let your drawing and efforts be wasted then?" Chayoung argued.

Then for the meantime, we waited. We walked towards his classroom but he was nowhere. He was just right there few seconds earlier.

"Stupid text."

A week ago...*

Should I really text him? The classes have been cancelled. I'm not sure whether it's a good idea to do it now. Should I make myself known? Or should I keep it anonymous? But I really wanna take a picture with him...

Ugh! My head hurts. Forget it, I'm just gonna do it.

"Hi uhm... So I just randomly draw one of my mutuals and it happened to be you.."

*Photo sent*

"Perhaps you like it?

"I was about to give you this at school tomorrow but they cancelled the classes so... Hope you like it<3

Was I too formal?

It took him hours to reply.

"Oh wow, what a nice piece!"

"Yes I like it, thanks!"

HE REPLIED!!! I muffled my squeal with my pillow as I looked back at his text. It took me hours to see the message and reply too.

"Guess... I'll just give it to you when we bump into each other, maybe(?)"

"Ugh goshhh how am I going to give you this at schoolT^T"

"Just don't give it yet if you're still not ready^^"

End*

I went home feeling defeated. Not able to give him the drawing.

I stared at my bedroom's ceiling before deciding to go online.

2+messages

It was sent an hour ago. I quickly opened the message. He replied to my text earlier in the morning, when I told him to meet up.

"Sorry, I just saw your text message"

"I don't have an internet at school, that's why"

"It's fine, so,I'll just give it to you tomorrow?"

"Okay, sure"

Saying it was fine when I was literally sulking in my room like a child. But that's when I haven't read his message.

Min Yoongi apologized to me.

I giggled like an idiot in my room as I stared at the text messages we shared.

The next day...

"AAHHHH! Let's go hoomeee. Forget it! I'm not going to give it to him!" I whined, it wasn't just Chae and Sana was there for me, but some of my classmates too. They were waiting for me—like usual, we go home altogether. "I knew it I shouldn't have contact him. This is really a stupid stupid idea!!" I ran around the court in attempt to go home.

We're here, in front of the senior's building. Waiting...again.

One of my classmate proposed that they'll just call him to go down. Two of them went upstairs to his room.

Why does he always keeping me on waiting. Does he think he's some sort of a king?

I huffed and were literally losing all my shits. Till I heard them.

"He's here!!" They squealed. Too much of an opposite, I composed myself and cleared my throat. Thank God he's tall so when I'm looking forward all I can see is his chest. I gave it to him and our hands brushed. It was so quick and subtle, yet it already made my heart warm.

As practiced, Chaeyoung smoothly asked him if we can take a picture—for business purposes. I felt too stiff. This is too good to be true. Then I felt it, he leaned closer. Our arms touching, he smiled to the pic.

My heart was about to get off my rib cage. My insides were going crazy, yet, thankfully, I look completely normal outside.

When I got home, he texted me, thanking and saying that he really appreciates it. A warm feeling spread across my whole body.

The next day, my classmates and I talked about the event yesterday. They were bitching about how Yoongi didn't even thanked me and just left. I laughed so hard when I heard that. Because he did. Yoongi did thanked me before leaving, it just happened that it was loud enough for only me to hear it. Now, it felt more special.

"Have you ever thought of the probable major reason for what you're feeling?"

Here we go again.

How can I focus on what's wrong with me, when you're right here? Worse, as my doctor.

3 more appointments with him. I paid for this, I should at least gain something.

"Maybe... because up to this day, I still blame myself for his death." My head hung low as I mumbled it.

Why do you always have to see my flaw, Min Yoongi?

This infatuation is slowly turning to hatred...

"You know it wasn't your fault."

I turned my head to him with a frown. So, he does remember me?

A tear fell from my cheek. I wiped it before he can even notice. I turned my hands into fist. 6 words. It was only 6 words yet he can already open my bare self.

"I-if I wasn't stubborn. He'd still be here. He followed me. You saw that. If only he didn't. He'd still be here."

I felt a lump in my throat. Those memories. It was too vivid as if it just happened yesterday.

Spring 2012

"I told you, I don't want to!"

Another day, another argument to have with my mother.

Why is she so pushy on making me go to states?

"It's for your own sake! Studying here at this campus will let you go nowhere."

"What? So eager to get rid of me?!" I yelled while we drive to campus.

"Jeon Y/n! Don't you dare shout at your mother." My father said sternly as he drives.

As we were near the campus, I lost it.

"Drop me off." 1.. 2.. 3... "I said, drop me off, dad." Keeping my voice low yet so stern it could cut apples.

My father stopped the car and I get out of it.

I was mindlessly crossing the road that I didn't notice a four wheeler truck coming at me.

Then I felt a pair of hands pushed me hard, and before I knew it, screams were heard. My mom's loud cries were ringing in my ears. Tears were coming out of me uncontrollably. Blood all over him. I crawled, oh so slowly and trembling. Before I could even reach him, my mom pushed me aside and called for help.

Minutes later, I heard the sirens of the ambulance. I was just there. Staring at him. No words coming out.

It started raining. It was a light rain, yet even with those subtle touch, it made my whole body flinch and freeze.

Till I felt someone's embrace. Someone was covering me with their jacket. Who could possibly care for me if it wasn't my father.

Slowly, I turned my head towards the person.

Why it has to be you?

"Everything's gonna be okay. The ambulance is taking your father already."

He spoke in a soothing tone. Yet no matter how warm or soft his voice is, I can't somehow get out the ice cage I'm in.

"Do you think your father would want you to think that way? It's been years Y/n, what happened that you're back at this again?"

part 2 read here^^

A/N: okay, I lied. Maybe this isn't gonna be a oneshot... maybe I'll have 2 parts? 3 maybe? I just cut this off here cause I think it was too long. So readers can have breaks hehe. Gonna post the next part tomorrow maybe...

Comment your @ if u guys wants to be added on the taglist^^

[tricksterkisses]

I was discussing the incident mentioned later in this piece with my wife yesterday and I saw another post by someone earlier doing something mentioned in here and I'm finally going to say something about it.

There is a serious problem in leftist spaces, especially online, especially on Tumblr, when it comes to language.

The way people are expected to speak just to even enter these spaces is incredibly complex, to the point of being outright hostile to those who haven’t already spent time in them. And it’s not just newcomers; people who have important things to say, people speaking from lived experiences, people who don’t have English as a first language but still deserve to be heard, are constantly talked down to or even pushed out entirely for not using the "right" words.

This gets even worse when you factor in how often new terms are coined in English, and then people are shamed for not immediately knowing or using them.

I saw someone reblog their own post saying something like, "I know for a fact more than half of y’all didn’t understand a fucking word I said here."

And honestly? That stuck with me, because yeah, I’ve felt that before. Not because I don’t value critical thinking! because I absolutely do! I just made a post on that too! but because so many of these posts are written in a way that makes them Functionally Inaccessible to anyone who doesn’t already have the right background knowledge. And at a certain point, if you actually want your words to have an impact, if you actually want to create meaningful change, then you’re going to have to accept some things:

People will not always use perfect language.

2. People will not always know the exact terminology you personally prefer they use when engaging in discourse.

3. Dismissing or attacking people for how they say something, instead of engaging with what they’re saying, is actively harmful.

And more than that, if you genuinely want people to understand and engage with the things you’re talking about, especially people who don’t speak English as a first language, especially people without access to higher education, especially people who don’t even know where to begin when it comes to self-education (because yes, that is a skill that has to be taught) then you are going to have to be the one to adjust sometimes. You are going to have to let people say things imperfectly. You are going to have to take a step back and engage with the message rather than just the words being used to express it.

One of the experiences that made me realize that I, as a non-native English speaker, was not welcome in Tumblr leftist spaces was when I spoke about real-life oppression I had experienced. I left one word out of my post, a word which honestly, was not even important when talking about an incident that had Happened To Me, not theory, not hypotheticals or any what-ifs of oppression, a story, a story about something that happened to me.

And because of that, people sat in a Discord server, picking apart my words, accusing me of awful things, and then came into my askbox throwing jargon and buzzwords I’d never even heard before, then got mad at me for being frustrated that this was happening.

Think about that. People who are directly impacted by oppression are being pushed out of spaces meant to discuss it because the way they speak doesn’t conform to certain expectations. That is not justice. That is not solidarity. That is not progress.

There is a fundamental disconnect here between theory and praxis. Ironically so many of you do not know what praxis is, because most of you engage with a lot of theory, and not a lot of praxis, you use the word praxis a lot, but, ironically, you have no idea what it means.

{to put my money where my mouth is, it means Doing Something, in the simplest possible terms}

In theory, leftist spaces should be accessible. They should be places where people can speak openly about their experiences, learn from each other, and work toward meaningful change. But in practice? There’s a gatekeeping of language so intense that many people, particularly those who are marginalized in ways beyond just their political beliefs, are outright excluded.

And this is something I need people to sit with: The assumption that the "right" language is easy to learn, or that anyone who doesn’t use it is being willfully ignorant, is an inherently privileged stance. Knowing where to find information, how to process it, and how to integrate new terminology into your vocabulary is a skill that is largely tied to education. Having the time to engage with leftist literature and theory, to stay up-to-date on every new term that gets introduced, is also a privilege. And the fact that so many people refuse to acknowledge this, that they expect perfect articulation from everyone, regardless of background, and punish those who don’t measure up, is a huge problem.

Worse still, the same people who act as gatekeepers of this language often fail to communicate their ideas in a way that is accessible at all.

This doesn’t mean that complex ideas should never be discussed. It doesn’t mean that people shouldn’t strive for accuracy in their language. But it does mean that if your goal is to educate, if your goal is to spread awareness, if your goal is to help people understand and join the movement, if your goal is to engage with fellow oppressed people, then you have a responsibility to meet people where they are. You have a responsibility to make your language understandable.

Because if people can’t even process what you’re saying, then what’s the fucking point?

And before anyone says, "Well, people should put in the effort to learn!" Let me make something very clear: They do.

People who are new to leftist spaces, or who are coming in from different linguistic and cultural backgrounds, are often trying their best to engage. They are listening, they are learning, they are processing. But if the response to every mistake, every slightly off phrasing, every unfamiliarity with a new term, is immediate hostility,

or even if it's just 'hey I see you're sharing a personal moment, but can you change your language to make me, personally, more comfortable with you discussing your oppression?' then you’re not teaching.

You’re just making sure only the people who already think and speak exactly like you get to stay in the room.

Your language, your terminology, your theory? none of it means anything if you can’t make it accessible to the people who actually need it. And it means nothing if you use it to Exclude rather than Include.

[kathryn-maraudersversion]

Serpents and Stars Part 5

Summary: You’ve run from them. You’ve fought them. You’ve denied everything. But you have one last card to play if you push them away hard enough, maybe they’ll finally give up on you. Maybe you’ll finally be safe. (Spoiler: You won’t.)

Pairing: Poly!Marauders (James Potter, Sirius Black, Remus Lupin) x Slytherin!Fem!Reader Warnings: One sided arguments.

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6

Run. Run far away.

That was the thought screaming in your head.

If you ruined this, ruined them before they could ruin you, then it wouldn’t matter what you felt.

It wouldn’t matter that James made your heart race. It wouldn’t matter that Sirius made your skin burn. It wouldn’t matter that Remus made your chest ache.

So, you did the only thing you could. You sharpened your words into knives, and you stabbed them where it would hurt most.

You caught them in the Gryffindor common room after dinner.

James was sprawled on the couch, laughing as Sirius tossed a pillow at Remus, who barely looked up from his book.

They looked so at ease. So right and something in you snapped.

James noticed you first. His expression lit up. “Sweetheart, what-”

“Enough,” you cut him off.

The warmth in his eyes flickered.

Sirius raised an eyebrow. “What’s got your knickers in a twist, love?”

You took a breath. Don’t let them in. Don’t let them see.

“I need you to stop,” you said, voice cold. “All of you.”

James sat up. “Stop what?”

“This. The flirting. The pet names. The stupid, constant presence in my life.” You forced a sneer. “It’s getting pathetic.”

Silence.

Remus finally looked up, his amber eyes carefully blank.

Sirius’ smirk faltered for the first time.

James just stared.

But you weren’t done. You looked at James, aiming for the one thing you knew would cut. “I will never love you.”

James actually flinched. His fingers twitched at his sides, like he was trying not to reach for something. “That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is.” You crossed your arms. “You’re nothing but a spoiled, arrogant Gryffindor who thinks he can have anything he wants just by flashing a smile. But you can’t have me.”

James opened his mouth, but no words came out.

You turned to Sirius.

“And you.” You let your gaze rake over him in disgust. “You act like you’re some charming, irresistible rebel, but deep down, you’re just a scared little rich boy desperate for attention.”

Sirius went completely still.

Your stomach twisted. You knew how much he hated his family. You knew what that would do to him. But you needed them to hate you. You forced yourself to keep going.

Finally, you turned to Remus.

And for the first time, you hesitated.

Because Remus was just looking at you.

Not angry. Not hurt. Just knowing.

So, you made your voice cruel.

“You’re the worst of them all,” you said, your tone ice. “Because at least James and Sirius are obvious about what they want. But you?” You tilted your head. “You hide behind quiet words and kind smiles, like you’re any better. But you’re just as selfish. You think you can make me feel safe? Make me trust you?”

You let out a cold laugh.

“You’re just a monster waiting to show his teeth.”

The words hung in the air. The fire crackled.

And for the first time in forever, the Marauders had nothing to say. You had done it. You had won. So why did you feel like you had just lost everything?

You avoided them. Properly this time.

No stolen glances. No hesitation.

You ignored the way James didn’t smile in the hallways anymore. You ignored the way Sirius wasn’t everywhere like he used to be. You ignored the way Remus had stopped looking at you like he already knew the truth.

You ignored everything and for three days, you thought it was over.

Until, on the fourth day, James Potter cornered you in the empty Transfiguration classroom and everything fell apart.

Authors note: I might have possibly put a frozen reference in here. Also sorry this one is kinda depressing the next couple are too.

Tags: @amatoanima @flaviaandbooks @nymanas @maraudersgirlsposts @yvessentials @bridkesby @treefairy-28 @navs-bhat @ill-be-okay-soon-enough @zoleea-exultant @hermionelove @starmaniii @kitcat912 @hopperbopper

[calebverse]

SOUTHBOUND

synopsis: caleb doesn’t ask much of anything from you. but you were willing to indulge him anyway.

cw: explicit content mdni, oral sex (female receiving), clothed cunnilingus, pet names, use of gege/meimei, pseudo-incest, hints at them being forbidden, pwp, coming in panties, praising, they still banter in the midst of eating out, biting, marking || 2.8k words

notes: this work is inspired by this post from twitter! there was a user who said it was very caleb coded but they deactivated T__T so i'm linking the original post instead. the fic was supposed to be a panty sniffing fic (classic caleb things) but i kinda went off the mark... but oh well... also note that i took inspiration from the characterization from the cn dub, using the gege and meimei terminology. i went insane writing this by the way i think i need a whole business day to recover.

caleb doesn’t ask much of anything from you. 

in comparison to all the times you would ask him for various things – snacks, sweets, little favors, random requests – he barely does any of it towards you. not because you were unwilling to give it. in fact, you were ready to jump on any opportunity to do something – anything – for him. 

he’s the one who doesn’t give you a chance to. 

caleb is stubborn like that – he has to do things his way, has to prove something, has to bear it by himself. so even if he is juggling multiple things at once, even if he is obviously in dire need of help, he will probably have to be on the brink of death to even think of asking for it. 

you would pout, throw fits about this to him. he is one of the most important people in your life, if not the most. so naturally, you want to be there whenever he needs you to. but classic caleb would always shut you out for it gently with a ruffle of your hair or a pinch to your cheek. 

“i want to be 100% reliable to you,” he reasoned with a soft smile one time, wiping your tears with his thumb. “if i can’t help myself, how will i be able to help you?”

caleb doesn’t ask for much, but tonight was different. 

at his request, you sat at the edge of your bed while he was kneeling in front of you. he also asked you not to touch him in any way, and he seemed to be doing the same as he kept his hands to his sides. the moon from your window was the only source of light in your dark room, but it was enough for you to see his ragged breathing, his clenched fists, his glassy eyes. 

he sat still on the hardwood floor, afraid to speak as his mind ran for miles. his ears were red down to his chest. you could see the slight shivers of his form. he looked like he was hurting, and if it wasn’t for the tent emphasized by his sweatpants as his knees stuck to the floor, you would’ve thought he was in actual pain. 

“what can i do for you, gege?” he hasn’t spoken for what felt like an eternity. so you asked him softly for the third time that night, resisting the urge to cup his face into your hands. you held onto your bed sheets instead. 

“p-please…” caleb said, but you weren’t sure what he was asking for, or if he was talking to you or to himself. he looked up with wet eyes and you thought he was in tears. “you already do so much for me, meimei…  you already—i can’t possibly ask for more. for this.” he gritted his teeth. “i never should’ve come, i never should’ve knocked, i should’ve just passed by your door and –”

“but you are here now.” you told him. “please tell me what you need, caleb. i’ll give it to you.”

“i don’t know if you—”

“if i can give it? really? you wouldn’t have come to me if you thought i couldn’t.”

“right. right, pipsqueak. i know you can give it. all of it and more. i just—” he let out a shaky breath. “i don’t know if you want to. i don’t want to scare you.”

you leaned down and nudged his knee with your foot, urging him to look up to you. “you can never scare me, caleb.” 

his adam’s apple bobbed up and down, his gaze never straying from yours. there was a hint of doubt and uncertainty happening behind his eyes. you were about to speak again, wanting him to come out of whatever shell he was hiding within his brain, when he spoke in a breathy whisper.

“i just need—” he clenches his fists. “i-i need you to stay still for me. hands on your sides, at all times. could you do that for me, pipsqueak?”

you nodded. 

“and if anything makes you uncomfortable, you tell me, yeah?” 

you nodded again. 

“words, baby.” he whispered. “i need to hear you say it, i need your words.”

“yes.” you breathed. “yes, i’ll tell you.”

but you know your gege, your caleb. he loves you dearly, and you knew he would never do anything that will hurt you. you trust him completely to the point you would let him have his way if it meant his relief, his comfort, his happiness.

caleb searched your eyes for any hint of hesitation or regret only to be met with none. with a small frown, he seemed to be mumbling to himself, as if he was at war with himself, and you were only able to catch a few words. “okay. right. i’m so… i can’t believe… i just need this—one act of selfishness and i’ll get over it.”

with those last words, he leaned in closer, nuzzling his cheek to your knee. he kept his hands behind his back. with closed eyes, he planted a small kiss on your knee. 

your mouth parted in slight surprise, but you did as he first instructed – to remain perfectly still. he laid his face on your lap, his hair tickling you lightly. he seemed to just stay there for a while, the only sounds filling the air was his quiet and content breathing. and when you thought that was it, he started to place kisses all over your thighs.

every kiss left a burning mark on your skin, spreading all over until it reached the heat between your legs. he nuzzled his nose along the expanse of your skin, his damp lips gliding along. he looked up to you with his gemstone-like eyes, the ones you grew to know and love. the heat in his gaze sent shivers down your spine, your legs involuntarily widening. it was only a small and subtle movement, but caleb took advantage of it, moving his face in between your knees. 

his kisses moved inward, and you can feel him smile against your inner thighs. “so pretty, so so good…” he mumbled. “all you have to do is sit still, and you still affect me so much. do you know, pipsqueak? do you know how much you make me feel?”

you pulsed between your legs as he whispered to you. an involuntary whine escaped your lips when his face moved another inch inward. he hushed you with a nuzzle of his cheek. 

“how are you feelin’?” he asked. 

“t-ticklish.” you replied. “but i’m okay.”

he smiled. “and you’re still keeping your hands to yourself, remaining perfectly still. my pipsqueak is so good… you’re doing so well.”

you can feel every inhale and exhale he took, increasingly aware of how close he is to your heat. as if he could read your mind, the teasing fucker casted his eyes down and lightly blew against your clothed pussy. you squeaked, visibly shivering at the action. 

“sensitive,” he remarked with a small smirk. 

you couldn’t even come up with a snarky reply. your brain was occupied screaming and blaring caleb’s name. 

caleb. caleb. caleb. gege. caleb. your caleb. caleb, who sat right between your legs. caleb, who looked up to you as if you held the world in your hands. caleb, who raises the hem of your nightdress with his sharp nose, letting them bunch up on your hips. caleb, who kisses your clothed stomach. caleb, who trails down lower, only to stop by the small ribbon of the panties you wore. stay still for caleb. be good for gege. your caleb. caleb. caleb. caleb—

“i can smell you from here, baby.” caleb said, disrupting your messy train of thoughts. he plants one more kiss on your clothed stomach. “is that your arousal? your desire? god, it’s all i can think about right now. do you still want it? think you can still give me what i want? you kept asking me what i want, no? can i show you? will you let me show you?”

“you talk so much,” you whined, shaking in anticipation.

“now now, i’m the one who is in need, but you’re the one complaining?” he chuckled lowly. “always so impatient, pipsqueak.” 

caleb rose up from his knees. he leaned towards material of your sleepwear that met the underside of your breasts and made a trail of kisses down to your stomach, your abdomen –

“good thing for you, i hate making you wait.” 

– and finally, your clothed pussy. 

he lets out a moan, as if the very contact was enough to pleasure his whole being. but he doesn’t stop at one kiss. oh no, not at all. if you had to describe greed as a person, it was the way caleb’s face never left your heat. 

caleb peppered it with small teasing pecks all over. he moved lower, closer to your hole, and you let out a moan you were holding. one kiss, two kisses, and another two more until he finally raised his head to give you what almost looked like a drunken smile. his lips were shiny and moist. your eyes widened. there’s no way—

“so wet.” he said, and the husk of his voice went straight to your core. he licked his lips, making sure you were watching the way his tongue moved. he hummed at the taste. “so good, baby.”

before you could even feel embarrassed, caleb dived back in between your legs. gone were the sweet small kisses he had spread from your stomach to your knees. he gave open mouth kisses against your clothed core obscenely, making him look like he was a man dying of thirst and the only way to save him was to drink from you. if you were damp then just as caleb commented, you sure as hell were wet now, a combination of your slick, sweat, and his saliva. your poor panties were ruined, basically sticking like second skin from caleb’s actions. 

you were unable to hold your noises back as you were trying to keep your hands to your sides and sit upright. suddenly everything was overwhelming – you were too dressed, he was too dressed, he was too far for your liking, you needed his lips everywhere else. there was nothing you wanted more at that moment but to discard your clothes along with your underwear and put your hands into caleb’s hair, to pull his face towards you even more, rutting against his mouth. but you remained still except for the involuntary squirms of your hips, desperate for more friction. 

“ah– fuck, caleb!” you gasped as you felt his tongue lick a long stripe over your clothed slit. you closed your legs involuntarily, trapping his face in between your thighs. he nipped at your skin lightly, but you yelped in response. 

the drunken look in his eyes was replaced with a warning gaze. “i said stay still.”

you shivered, widening your legs again. “m’sorry, gege.”

his eyes softened once more and kissed the same skin he bit, an unspoken acceptance of your apology. you watched him dart his tongue out over your clothed center, licking and drawing small indiscernible patterns that drove heat to build up under your belly. it felt heavenly – caleb’s lips and tongue gliding all over your pussy as it weeps for him – but the barrier that was your panties was becoming annoying, keeping you from feeling all of him.

“caleb,” you said, eyes heavy and chest heaving for air. 

he hummed in response, the vibrations going straight to your cunt.

“m'wanna feel you.” your words were heavy and slurred, struggling to come out of your mouth.

he shook his head between your legs, his nose nudging your clit, and you whined. 

“why–”

“can’t touch you.”

you had the energy to roll your eyes. “s’very funny of you to say, considering you’re basically – oh, oh– fucking me with your tongue.” 

“this isn’t fucking you with my tongue yet.” he said, eyes full of mirth as he tilted his head to the side. he leaned against your thigh. “but it seems like that’s what you want, huh? did you mean this?”

his tongue darted out, relentlessly lapping over your bundle of nerves, causing you to squirm. his licks went from short and quick to long and slow until he reached your slit. his tongue probed at your entrance along with the thin and soaked layer of your ruined panties, moving inside and out.

“caleb!” you moaned, nails digging into your palm. “fuck– please, i need more.”

“greedy.” he mumbled. 

“says you.”

“oh baby, this is nothing. you haven’t seen greedy.”

caleb wished nothing more but to have you all to himself – he could imagine you with your back arched as he fucked you until your walls were molded to the shape of him. he wouldn’t make a grand effort to keep his hands behind him and instead let his fingers roam all over you, touch your skin, smoothen the tangles in your hair, embrace you through it if he could.

but he knew that this was already overstepping the line. he wasn’t supposed to do this, you weren’t supposed to agree. caleb made a pitiful excuse that, if there was a barrier, if you two were still clothed, if the two of you didn’t touch each other with your hands, if you remained still, it was ‘modest’ enough. it wasn’t past the breaking point enough. that the two of you can still have a way to back out, or to pretend it never happened, that it never counted. 

(oh, but it does count. to caleb, especially. the taste of you will haunt his dreams. he is beyond ruined, he fears. he might never be able to taste anything as sweet as you. might never stop craving you.)

your only response was a shameless moan. all sense of modesty and embarrassment was thrown out of the window as your brain was cloudy with pleasure.

“please…” you moaned. you raised one leg up on the edge of the bed, giving caleb more access to fuck his mouth into you. he groaned, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cock twitch through his sweatpants. you bit your lip; if he doesn’t want to remove the barrier, then you might as well give him room so you can feel him as much as you can. 

caleb gathered enough spit into his mouth and let it drool all over your heat. you threw your head back as he swirled around your wet slit. lips and teeth worked around your swollen bud, causing you to whine and clench onto nothing. 

“yes, right there, oh my god,” you panted, completely disregarding the fact he instructed you to stay still and rocked your hips into his face, matching the rhythm he settled with. “please please please–” 

he doubled his efforts, flicking and sucking your clit with the occasional probing of his wet muscle into you. heat engulfs you as you chase your high. and when you came, it was in white and scorching hot pleasure that you thought you were going to burn right there on the edge of your bed. caleb helped you ride it through, kissing your pussy as it spasmed against his lips, your release coming in gushes. he drank in as much as he could through the cloth of your panties, moaning at the taste. 

caleb looked up as you came down from your high, committing everything into memory. the sound of sighs, the feel of your body twitching above him, a sheer amount of sweat dripping from your neck and disappearing into the valley of your breasts.

it was a view he would dream of for days. maybe even longer. 

“my pipsqueak,” he muttered, soft pecks all over your thighs and lap, just as how it all started. there was nothing but adoration in his eyes. mouth shiny, lips wet, your release all over his chin and cheeks. “you were so beautiful… you gave me everything i wanted and more– thank you, thank you baby.”

you vaguely remember what happened after. only hazy visions of him helping you to bed and getting you a fresh set of sleepwear, of kissing your forehead and thanking you once more before leaving your bedroom. you were almost sure you dreamed it when you woke up the next morning if it wasn't for the cold and ruined panties you still wore. along with the mark of his teeth imprinted onto your inner thigh. it was proof enough; it was real, he was there.

caleb doesn’t ask much of anything from you. 

but if this is where it gets you when he does, you were willing to give him everything and more.

[batwynn]

If anyone’s wondering what the rural side of a purple USA state is looking like right now, here’s a sample:

80% of the roads are almost completely impassible around the entire state. Massive holes destroying cars. Newly paved roads destroyed in 3 months. We barely had money for cheap patches last year, we are likely not going to have any money for roads and bridges at all this year. Both roads that lead to where I live have collapsing culverts under the roads because they installed plastic ones instead of metal, meaning in DAYS myself, 20+ households, and 5+ farms will not be able to get in and out of our homes. And yet, not a single person out here other than me will complain or say anything to get it fixed because they’re full of complex guilt over voting for this to happen to all of us. My emails and calls to the office of two people that manage this area have been ignored. They’re too busy trying to move the gigantic chunks of ice that flooded several roads from the river flooding severely this year. No, climate change didn’t cause this how dare you even bring that up when people are dealing with results of *climate change?!*

We are getting punished, as a state, because our governor chose to follow the rule of state-controlled law about trans people participating in sports and that made somebody angwy. Most people around here have decided any harm caused by this are trans people’s faults and there has been an even sharper rise in aggression at even the hint of gender-nonconformity. Yes, even the dog’s genders are more intensely defined right now.

Everyone is angry. Every single person. People who wanted this are angry, but can’t even begin to face why. A lot of people who didn’t vote for this are too scared to say anything because most of us are in very real danger. We are so fucking angry, though. If you’re a visible minority and/or wear a mask, the MAGA will unleash their displaced rage on you every opportunity they can get. The people who can afford to be vocal about it are also in danger. Power keg doesn’t even begin to describe it.

60% of people visiting this area were Canadians crossing the border to shop and idk hang out I guess? I have not seen a single Canadian license plate in almost a month now. The hotels are all weirdly open for booking all year when they’re usually booked up. People here are upping their advertising for off-roading, fishing, camping, etc. No, they haven’t figured it out yet.

There’s been a sharp rise of domestic violence, violent interactions on the road, and drug use has spiked. Everyone’s very angry at a few drug users who are living in extreme poverty in town when half their household is using alcohol or other drugs to deal with their daily lives as well. Again, a lot of misplaced anger, yelling at the suffering as though they caused it all.

A loooot of local people just got cut off from contact from their not-asshole families for the first time ever, so you hear a lot of ‘we used to be able to stick together as a country’ and ‘we shouldn’t let things divide us’. No, they won’t say what divided them from their families because they’re still pretending they didn’t do anything wrong even when it’s starting to actually affect their daily lives negatively.

Some of the farmers have been pretty quiet about their politics since somebody cut all of their incoming money. I’ve looked into some of the local farm’s records in the past and know for a fact that their more shady-ish practices got them more money from the government than they got from actually selling food. Billions more. Now nothing. So very quiet.

A weird, sharp turn against the cops has happened ever since people finally saw baby’s first corruption. Billions of dollars for cops that was supposed to go towards something, and has just sort of… vanished for four years now. People started admitting they didn’t vote for it to go to them, so how did it get passed? They’re all very close to Getting It but they still thinks the cops will fuck them save them from the Transes so they can’t get over that hump yet.

There are a select few who are the most normal Joes you’ve ever seen going about their lives very happily and averagely because literally none of this has affected them yet and yes, they’re all younger cishet white men. (I guess they don’t eat eggs?)

Eggs. Rages about eggs. Egg orgies at the chicken people’s houses. So much cash in hand for eggs. People who didn’t even like eggs are all about buying the cheapest from the most backyard-est chickens. People buying chickens who couldn’t raise a chia pet. None of them even aknowledge the bird flu, but they sure have a lot to say about not vaccinating their chickens.

Raw milk. Orgies at the dairy. So much cash in hand for raw milk. People who are lactose intolerant buying it by the bucketload because not only is it ‘free of *insert random thing they’re afraid of here*’ but also ‘*more misinformation*’ and ‘lactose intolerant people can drink it because it’s *insert some random Christian phrasing about purity*’

No sharp rise in church going. Churches have actually closed. The religion has twisted itself too far away from even that.

The dollar (1.50) store is packed. Still no acknowledgement of why we’re all so poor that we’re all getting our groceries here together, because that would admit to a systematic problem. The food there is getting shadier and shadier. We’re all just sort of waiting for the day some bacteria or random rat shit dropped in from the factory kills us from our $1.50 mystery meat frozen meal.

Isolation for queer people—especially trans people—has quadrupled. We aren’t even looking at one another in the stores anymore. No silent looks of acknowledgement or knowing smiles. We pretend we didn’t clock each other at all now. Everyone is cishet/binary passing as much as we can. The tension and fear is very high.

No one, apparently, remembers the caterpillars that destroyed all the trees last year, or the fact that we were warned it would happen again this year 10x worse. Or the fact that scientists said the trees can only handle so many years without fucking leaves. They’re going to die in droves if this keeps happening. It’s literally been completely forgotten by everyone. If you bring it up they stare at you blankly.

The local younger generation are more nihilistic and risk taking than ever. They keep dying while driving 108mph, or from overdoses. They’re angry and scared and genuinly suicidal. The kids aren’t, in fact, alright.

80% of the people you meet around town have been day drinking at the local bowling alley. Yes, they’re all drinking and driving. No, the billionaire cops are not even present on the roads.

Ticks. More ticks than ever before. No, do not even mention climate change this just mysteriously happened.

Surprisingly (I joke), there has a rise in even more mediocre white men in jobs they’re not qualified for as a lot of the older generation are retiring after one too many injuries on the job. You cannot, for the life of you, find a plumber within a 200mile distance that will actually show up and do the job correctly, nevermind well. One guy had this area covered for 50 something years before and apparently was the last person to know how to do their job. Now it’s daily posts on facebook of people looking for a plumber, 20 year old dude ‘master plumbers’ saying they’ll fix it, then the OP posting again looking for a plumber and maybe a priest a week later.

Did I mention how incredibly angry everyone is?

[hesagoodone]

I disagree. John's anger was absolutely justified, yes, perhaps in the Landmark scene, in the aftermath of the return, but is it infinite?

Yes, the lie wasn't properly addressed - because nothing in the show ever is (you're right in that it's a writing flaw), but I think Sherlock has apologised enough. Over and over, even if we exclude the fake-bomb scene, in words and in actions. What else is he supposed to do? If there's anything, John must really tell him so, instead of being all "nothing has changed or will change between us" while also continuing to be extremely angry.

Besides, while I understand John's trust issues, I think context of the lie matters. Sherlock didn't lie to him about being a genius, which would've been a betrayal of the highest order. The trust John had on him, on the genius that he chose to believe, that has not been betrayed at all. No, this is another lie, a lie meant to protect. To literally save John's (and others') life. Not to hurt or manipulate or anything. I don't even think Sherlock had a choice in this lie, except letting his friends die. Was he supposed to let them die? Does intent mean nothing?

A lie, yes, but also a lie at such tremendous personal cost. Can't John see how much it has costed Sherlock to lie? He's literally a broken man when he comes back. I can't believe he enjoyed the lie, or wasn't desperate for that lie to end.

Not to mention that those two years, while incredibly difficult for John, would not have been any better for Sherlock. Undercover in unknown lands, all alone and tortured, with a reputation and an entire life lost and left behind: I think if telling John was even remotely an option, he would've done that immediately. I don't think John ever even stops to wonder that perhaps those two years were not an overseas picnic for Sherlock, that maybe he had a reason for everything. It makes me sad, but I think John is always assuming the worst of Sherlock: see "I'm Sherlock Holmes and I always work alone" in TBB or "Do you care about that (actual lives) at all?" in TGG or "He doesn't feel things that way" in ASiB or "You machine!" in TRF or "It's Sherlock, who would he bother protecting?" in HLV or "Sherlock, do we have a plan?" in HLV or "He's a monster." in TLD or "We always saw it coming (Sherlock murdering someone)" in TLD.

Besides, John's issue with lies seems to surface only with Sherlock. Mary lied to him about far worse things, her entire life in fact, with absolutely no better reason than to protect herself. She went ahead and SHOT Sherlock! And yet, I don't see anything close to anger for her, she's forgiven immediately and completely.. without even the barest apology for something, that in my view, was unforgiveable.

In that light, his continued anger for Sherlock, and even hatred in TLD especially, seems pretty unfair to me.

(And all this is not to say that John must immediately forgive and go back to normal. No, of course not. But I can't imagine why he would *still* after years, after everything that happens post TEH, after knowing better, be so bitterly angry and hateful.)

@nexomy

Sherlock, 4.02 The Lying Detective

[lostbookmark]

MDNI 🔞

Main Masterlist here

Game Masterlist here

Summary: After the death of your brother and his wife. You find yourself adjusting to a new role in your life. A single parent to your teenage nephew. How do you help him heal? How do you help yourself heal? You're not sure. You don't think you can, until an annoying basketball coach enters your life and turns everything around.

Pairing: Basketball Coach Yoongi x Single Aunt F. Reader

Genre: Romance, Angst, Smut, Strangers to Lovers,

Warnings: Death Of Parents / Brother/ Family, Car Accident (Cause), Swearing, Explicit Sex, Arguments, Physical Fighting, Past Abusive Relationship, Talks Of Domestic Violence, Gore (Horror Movie), Smoking, Use Of Word Slut. Grieving

With your tongue poking out of your mouth in concentration, you press the blue painters tape along the ceiling with as much precision as possible. Your mother had agreed to let Nicky paint his room, but of course, she had to have the final say. She quickly vetoed the colors that she didn't like. Dark blues and black were pushed aside as she gave him the options of Serene Green and Pastel Yellow. Needless to say, Serene Green was the winner. It wasn't awful. Nope. In fact, you actually like the color, but it didn't exactly scream that a teenager lived there. You don't think that he cares, though. It was just nice to see his room start to come to life.

“These brushes are nice,” you dad says from the step ladder as he paints a perfect line just under your tape. His hand was completely steady, and he probably didn't even need you to tape off the room. “Where did you get these?”

“Oh, one of your new potential vendors gave me some,” you say casually, causing your parents to give you a look. “What?”

“He just gave them to you?” Your mom asks. “He should have given them to your father or even Elly for that matter.”

“Well, maybe, I might have flirted a little bit with him,” you admit. “But look, it got us some good brushes.”

“Do you think you could flirt for some rollers?” Your dad asks jokingly, making your mom throw a water bottle at him. “I'm kidding. Unless, she really can. The good ones are expensive.”

“You can't do that, Y/N,” your mom scolds. “You need to keep things professional at work. How do you think that makes you look? How that makes you father look?”

“She gets it from you,” your dad cuts in while still painting his perfect line of Serene Green.

“Absolutely not,” she disagrees.

“Should I recount the story of when we first met?” He asks, smiling over his shoulder at her. “I believe it was when I was working for my own father.”

Your mother gives him a look and walks out of the bedroom. You laugh, throwing down your blue tape roll and watch as it rolls across the room. Climbing down your own ladder, you sit on Nicky's bed that was moved to the center of the bedroom. “Don't let her get to you. She means well.”

“I'm not so sure,” you say, watching him as he climbs down and approaches you.

“How are you doing, kiddo? Do you need any money? Food?” He asks, squatting in front of you. “You two aren't going hungry, right?”

“No, things have been good?” You say, giving him a small smile.

“Just give her some time, kiddo,” he says. “Things are hard for everyone. Emotions are really high, but you know that I won't let anything happen. Nicky isn't going anywhere.”

“I know,” you agree.

“Just try to keep some sort of peace between the two of you.” he tells you. “I know you two haven't really ever gotten along over the years, but she loves you. After what happened to you…”

“When will the room be done?” You ask, changing the subject. “I think Chris and Elly are bringing him back in a couple of hours. I would like to have everything done and the room put back together by then.”

“Yeah,” your dad says quietly as he studies you sadly. “We’ll get it done.”

You walk to the opposite side of the room, grabbing a paint roller to distract you. You don't like to talk about your past. If you don't talk about it, then you can almost pretend like it never happened. You watch as the roller spreads the green paint across the wall. Up and down, you drag it over the smooth surface repeatedly, covering any blotchiness that you created.

Up and down.

Up and down, as if everything was perfectly fine.

Up and down.

Up and down.

Nothing was all right.

Up, down and repeat.

Ignore and pretend.

Repeat.

You pick the stubborn green paint from out underneath your fingernails as you sit on the bleachers waiting for practice to start. Nicky, with as much enthusiasm as a teenage boy could muster, he thanked everyone for painting his room when he saw it. That night, you two sat down, ordering him shelves and an entertainment center that he liked. You told him that the choice was his to unpack his things or you could go shopping to decorate his room with brand new things. He asked to think about it. You hope he chooses his things that were boxed up in his closet. Things that once brought him comfort and held happy memories. You don't want him to be scared of those memories. Memories of his mom and dad. Memories that you don’t want him to forget. That was the last thing you wanted.

Giving up on your nails, you yawn. For once, you were one of the first adults in the gym, and it was boring. You'll have to make sure that it never happens again. Resting your elbow on your knee, you place your chin in your hand. You contemplate closing your eyes when the door opens loudly and both coaches walk in. You watch as Coach Min gives you a double take before looking down at his watch. Raising an eyebrow at you, he nods in satisfaction that you were actually there before him. You roll your eyes in response, making him laugh silently. You're so happy that you amused him. At least one of you was amused. All you were was tired.

“We need to decide where to meet for dinner tonight,” Ara speaks up during the middle of practice. “Any suggestions?”

“LUXE EAST,” a mom that you don't care to learn her name suggests. “They have the best wine choices.”

“That's probably too expensive for….some,” Ara says, and you can feel their stares turn to look at you.

“Ara,” Mark says warningly as he makes eye contact with you.

“What? I'm just trying to be thoughtful,” she says innocently. “Maybe we should stick to McDonald's.”

“You can take your fake concern and shove it,” you say, looking over your shoulder at her trying to act unbothered. “I'm not going anywhere with you anyway.”

“You have to,” she smirks. “It's a part of your responsibility as a parent on our team.”

“It's when we decide who's in charge of getting signs made, t-shirts made. You know, things like that,” Mark explains.

Mark was nice. You didn't want to be a bitch to him. Instead, you completely turn away from him and look at the group of women behind you. You wonder if they ever heard the word no before. You doubt it. Their aura screams spoiled. You are sure that they were the type of woman who always got what they wanted.

“I'd rather pull my eyelashes out one by one than go anywhere with you,” you say, standing up and giving her a fake smile. “Go team!”

Walking down the steps of the bleachers, you step onto the floor and head for the door. Well, you attempted to, that is. Coach Min's arm shot out, almost hitting you with his clipboard, stopping your escape.

“Where are you going?” He asks, eyes never leaving the boys on the court.

“Bathroom. Is that alright with you?” You ask, sarcastically. “Do I need a hall pass?”

He doesn't answer as he drops his arm, letting you pass by. Continuing on, you leave the gym and walk down the hall a little ways until you come to the girls' bathroom. Looking around, you notice frosted windows above a small ledge. You smile, climbing up on the counter, and you hold your breath as you pop the window open. You freeze for a moment, waiting to see if you set an alarm off. Thankfully, there was nothing.

Reaching into your bag, you pull out a singular cigarette and lighter. You haven't smoked in years. You had carried the little cancer stick around as a reminder that you were stronger than the bad habit. You were stronger now than your past self, but every now and then, you doubt yourself and your strength. Even though you don't show it, you have your limits, and right now, you are way past them. Maybe Ara and the others that pushed you into caving in. Maybe it was the conversation with your dad. Maybe you were never strong, like you thought.

Fuck it!

Bringing the cigarette to your lips, you light it, inhaling the disgusting chemicals that burn your lungs as you breathe it in. Turning your head toward the window, you blow out the smoke, trying not to cough. You're disappointed. You're not sure what you were hoping to feel, but the cigarette did not give it to you. Maybe you were hoping for a rush of dopamine. Maybe you were looking for a sense of calm and peace, but you got nothing. You still feel tense. You still feel weighed down. The nightmares will still be there when you close your eyes at night. Everything is exactly the same. Except now, you probably smell like an ashtray.

You don't bother with another puff. Snuffing the cigarette out, you close the window and hope down off the counter. Flushing the evidence, you walk back into the gym like nothing happened.

Sitting further away from the group, you take your earlier position. Elbow on knee, chin in hand, you wait. You wait, like you have been waiting almost every day since Nicky came into your life full time. You need to learn to have patience because waiting felt like torture. Maybe your mom was right all along. Maybe you weren't equipped to handle this type of life. The mom life. You need to change. Unfortunately, you don't know how to change, but you need to figure it out.

Fast.

“What's the temperature you need to store hot food at?” Coach Min throws at you as you remain unmoving, waiting for your nephew as practice ends and everyone filters out of the gym.

“220 degrees,” you answer automatically, looking up at him as he looms over you, looking down at you.

It was a lie. You didn't know the answer, but you sure answered him with as much confidence as you could muster. He stares at you through narrowed eyes, scrutinizing your answer. You are sure he knows that you have yet to look over the paper he gave you on food safety practices.

“You don't know, do you?” He asks, calling your bluff and confirming what you thought.

“If that's wrong, then what's the answer?” You ask back. He chuckles and looks away from you. This time, you were the one to narrow your eyes as you study him. Standing up from your seat, you stare at him with astonishment. “You don't know either,” you accuse, pointing your finger at him.

“Of course I do,” he scoffs, crossing those arms of his. “I've been doing this for years.”

“Then what is it?” You ask, mimicking his stance.

“It's…..in the paper I gave you so you better learn it,” he answers and walks away from you. You shake your head as you watch him walk away and pat Nicky on the back as he passes him.

That motherfu…..chucker!

A/C is not working. Bring extra water.

Damn. The text that came through the team app did not lie. The gym was hot and stuffy as you entered through the double doors. A wall of heat from inside almost stops you in your tracks as it hits you in the face, wanting to tempt you into running your ass back to your car.

It just felt gross.

Nicky waves at you from where he was stretching on the court. You raise the water bottle in your hand in the air, indicating that you bought him an extra one. He points to his belongings sitting on an empty set of bleachers. You nod, walking over. You find his things easily and place his extra water down before joining the parents.

It's gotten easier the last few practices. Coming here almost every day is still just as awful, but keeping your head down and not paying attention to certain people made the time more bearable. It helps that you have been bringing your earbuds to drown out their yapping mouths, but unfortunately, today, you were in too big of a hurry to change. You forgot to grab them. Instead of an audio book or music, you had to listen to the squeaking shoes, whistles, and the yapping of the mothers mouths. Today, you just try to focus on the boys doing…whatever it was that they were doing, but the yappers wouldn't shut up.

“I need a new formal dress,” one of them says. “Hubby and I have dinner with his idiot boss next weekend.”

“At least you're able to get a new one. My husband says I have too many dresses that I don't need another one,” a new voice chimes in. “How ridiculous is that? He can buy a new boat, but I can't have a new dress.”

Dear god, you think as you roll your eyes. You wish those were the only problems you had.

“There's plenty of shops you can go to. Just don't shop where she does,” your shoulders stiffen as you fight the urge to turn around. You just know that the comment was directed at you. “Hey, you.”

“What?” You question, not even bothering to look over your shoulder at them.

“You should go and change,” Ara tells you.

You look down at yourself. You didn’t think the pair of cut-off shorts and a black and white striped tank top that you were wearing would be considered inappropriate. Your ass wasn't hanging out, and your boobs were where they belonged. If she thought this was bad, then she was faint if she saw what else you had in your closet.

“If your son can't keep his eyes to himself, then maybe you should teach him better,” you snap at her as you finally look at her. She, as always, was wearing too much makeup. You hoped that she would sweat it off and look like a drowned rat by the end of practice. “That's your problem, not mine.”

“Well if you didn't dress like a slut to begin with then we wouldn't have a problem,” Ara tells you with a sharp look. Her scowls have become harsher since you refused to go to the meeting with them, but nothing was ever said to you.

“What did you call me,” you demand ever so calmly, fully turning your body around to look at her.

“You heard me,” she smirks as her glossy lips shine under the gym lights.

“Say it again,” you say, standing up, but it only makes her laugh. “FUCKING SAY IT AGAIN BITCH!.”

“WHOA!” Coach Min says, blowing his whistle as he turns swiftly to see what the commotion was. “Get down here now.”

You don't listen as your eyes continue to zero in on Ara, your number one enemy at the moment. You don't plan on backing down. Ara's glossy little smile drops as she studies you when she realizes that you're not backing down. Good. Very good. You haven't fought anyone since high school, but you're sure you still have what it takes to kick her ass.

“Fucking say it again,” you growl, getting closer into her space, making her back up in her seat.

Yup, you still got it.

“Y/N, get down here now,” Coach Min demands, but again, you don't pay him any mind. Footsteps ascend the wooden stairs, and a hand grabs your arm, trying to pull you away. “Now.” You shake him off and follow him down the bleachers. “Three practice suspension,” he tells you as he points to the doors.

“I thought they needed a guardian here at all times,” you say smartly, testing his patience.

“Do you want to make it 6?” He asks, eyes hard as he studies you.

You look over to Nicky, who, like the rest of the boys, was watching the commotion that you were a part of. You shouldn't make such a scene in front of him. Squinting your eyes in a glare, you turn from him to head for the doors. However, before your feet actually were able to take off, you looked back at the smug woman, whose smirk was right back on her face. Staring directly at her, you flip her off with your hand held high for everyone to see.

“Jesus christ,” you hear Coach Min mutter.

Stomping out of the gym, you walk back to your car, slamming your door loudly after you climb in. Swearing at the top of your lungs, you hit the steering wheel with the heel of your hand. You can feel the burning of tears start to well behind your eyes. Rubbing them harshly, you stop them before they fully form. With a deep breath to calm your rapidly beating heart, you lean forward, pressing your forehead against the steering wheel, you exhale. 1….2….3… you slowly count as you focus on the rising of your chest. 4…5…6… Finally, you can feel your heart rate slow.

Your whole life, you were a wild child. Your brothers were steller students, great athletes, and never had detention. You, on the other hand, practically lived there. You never talked back to teachers, but boy, did the other students piss you off. You weren't one to back down when someone was running their mouth about you. Maybe you did it for attention. Your parents were always busy going into your teen years. Supporting you and your siblings plus Nicky and your sister-in-law, it was a lot. They both worked a lot, and their time at home was stretched thin with all the responsibilities in the household.

Unfortunately, you never really grew out of the rebelliousness. You were responsible around Nicky when you were with him, but otherwise, you didn't care. Skipping school, sneaking out, all became routine for you. Your self-esteem wasn't the best and sought attention from the wrong type of men as you grew older. Men, who would frequent the shady little bar you worked at. Who knew all the right things to say to draw in and make you fall in love with them. You fell for it every time, and every time you paid the price.

You were angry. You were angry when they would call you names. They made you feel bad and tore you down. You couldn't fight back. You tried once, and it didn't work out so well. You promised yourself that you would never let anyone make you feel like again. Make you feel insecure, weak. Make you feel like you were always…..wrong. You close your eyes, trying to convince yourself that you did nothing wrong. You shake your head slightly. You didn't do anything. Nope, you didn't do anything wrong. You stood up for yourself like anyone would. You didn't do anything wrong back then, and you didn't do anything wrong now. You hope that if you keep repeating it, you might actually start to believe it.

“I'm sorry,” you tell him softly. “I'm sorry if I embarrassed you.”

The car door opening has you looking over at Nicky from where you lay your head on the headrest of your seat. You let him throw his bag in the back seat and buckle himself in before you speak.

“I know what she called you. All the moms were laughing about it,” he tells you. “It's not fair that you got into trouble, but they don't.”

“I know,” you agree, nodding your head.

“I don't want to come back tomorrow,” he says, looking down at his hands in his lap. “I don't even like playing with half of them. Especially her son, he's a shithead.”

“Watch it! You can't quit,” you say, shaking your head at him. “Isn't like the number one rule for these things? You can’t let your team down. What's that saying? Never give up, never….something.”

“Coach is headed this way,” he tells you, and you follow his line of sight out the windshield. Everything in you hardens once more as you watch the blonde man make his way over to your car.

“The fuck he is,” you mutter under your breath.

You quickly start your car, throwing it in drive, taking off out of the parking lot with squealing tires. Absolutely not. There was no way you were going to talk to that man. If Nicky changes his mind about wanting to play, you'll have to send Chris or Elly to take your place. You know they would do it in a heartbeat, but as of right now…you're done.

《Chapter Four》

Tagged Readers:

@busanbby-jjk , @meelismee , @jajabro , @wicked-game-black-butler

@wobblewobble882, @damn-u-min-yoongi , @mintedagustd , @Granataepfelchen

@yoongiiuu93, @jimeg629 , @jincapableoflove , @minghaosimp

@redragdoll, @ot72025 , @seoullove96 @our-cool-jenny , @kam9404

@amarawayne , @haileyborig, @mar-lo-pap

[rdrclo]

How they would handle your autism

Okay so before i start i just wanted to say i am professionally diagnosed with autism, i have been for a good few years now, and even though i wouldn't change it if i had the choice, its something that affects every moment of my life, and it can be super difficult to deal with sometimes.

So to anyone else who also has it, i hope these headcanons are a comfort to you as they are to me💘

Just the boys again sorry!😭 If anyone wants me to do the girls or any other characters, please just request.

-

Arthur:

Arthur's got a quiet patience about him. He notices the way you tense up when the camp gets too loud or how you fidget with your hands when overwhelmed. He doesn't make a big deal out of it—just adjusts. If you need silence, he takes you out on a ride, letting the steady rhythm of the horse calm you down. If you struggle with eye contact, he doesn't force it, just focuses on something else while talking to you.

He's a man of few words, but you don't need them to know he cares. If you have a special interest, he listens, even if he doesn't understand half of what you're saying. "That right?" he mutters, nodding along as you excitedly explain something. If someone in camp gives you a hard time, he shuts it down with a glare alone.

When your emotions get too much—when frustration or anxiety build up to the point where you shut down—Arthur doesn't push. He just sits nearby, waiting it out with you. When you're ready, he might gruffly mutter, "C'mon. Let's go for a ride." He knows the world's a little too much sometimes, but he's more than willing to be your safety.

-

Dutch:

Dutch is a talker, and at first, he doesn't quite realize that his constant speeches can be overwhelming for you. But he's observant—he notices the way you sometimes shrink away when there's too much noise, or how certain sensations seem to bother you more than others.

Once he understands, Dutch makes an effort. He lowers his voice when he's speaking directly to you, keeping his tone smooth and even. When camp gets too chaotic, he offers you a place in his tent to take a break. "You just take a moment, my dear. No rush," he says, as if it's the most natural thing in the world.

Dutch enjoys your intelligence, especially if you have a particular interest or skill. He listens intently, even if you go on a long tangent. "You've got a brilliant mind," he tells you, meaning every word. If your way of thinking is different, he sees it as an advantage, something that makes you valuable to the gang.

He encourages you, but sometimes he pushes too hard, expecting you to handle situations that overwhelm you. If you struggle, he's quick to reassure you. "Now, now, there's no shame in that," he soothes, hand on your shoulder. He's not perfect at understanding, but he tries—and when Dutch believes in you, he makes you believe in yourself, too.

-

Micah:

At first, Micah doesn't seem like the kind of man who'd have the patience for your quirks. He's loud, brash, and constantly poking at people's weaknesses. But he's also sharp—he notices things fast. The way you flinch at loud sounds, how certain activities make you uncomfortable, or how you get stuck on one topic and talk about it for ages. At first, he teases. "Damn, you ever shut up 'bout that?" he'll scoff with a smirk, but if he sees you actually upset, he dials it back.

Over time, he gets used to you. Hell, he even starts accommodating you without thinking about it. If you struggle with eye contact, he talks to you while cleaning his revolvers or rolling a cigarette, giving you an easy way out. If camp is too overwhelming, he's the first to drag you off somewhere quieter—though he acts like it's just for himself. "C'mon, place is crawlin' with fools. Let's get outta here."

Micah doesn't coddle you, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care. If someone tries to mess with you over the way you think or act, he's in their face before you even process what happened. He might tease you himself, but no one else gets that privilege.

If you ever get overwhelmed to the point of closing off, he doesn't panic or push. He just waits it out, maybe making some offhand comment like, "Y'know, sittin' there like a damn statue ain't gonna fix nothin'." But his tone isn't cruel—it's grounding. If words don't help, he might nudge your foot with his boot or put something in your hands to fidget with. He's rough around the edges, but in his own way, he's got your back.

-

Hosea:

Hosea catches on quickly. He's spent a lifetime reading people, and he notices the little things. He doesn't ask a lot of questions; he just starts adjusting, making things easier for you in ways so subtle you almost don't notice.

If you get overwhelmed in camp, he gently steers you away before it gets too much. "Come on, let's take a little walk," he says, voice calm and steady. He happily listens to you talking with genuine interest, even asking questions to keep you going.

He's got a natural patience for your quirks. If you need things a certain way, he helps make sure they stay that way. You don't even have to ask; he just knows.

And if you ever have a moment where the world is too much—where you shut down or struggle to get your words out—Hosea doesn't rush you. He just stays close, offering a reassuring presence. "Take your time, no hurry," he says softly. He never makes you feel broken, never makes you feel like you need to change. To Hosea, you're just you—and that's more than enough.

-

Javier:

Javier is naturally warm and easygoing, and that extends to how he treats you. He doesn't make a big deal out of your differences —he just rolls with them.

If you have a special interest, Javier encourages it. He loves passion, and if you light up talking about something, he genuinely listens. He might not understand everything, but he enjoys seeing you excited. If your interest is music, he goes out of his way to teach you songs on the guitar, patient even if it takes you a while to get it right.

Javier is protective in a quiet way. If someone is rude to you, loud to you, he steps in before you even have to say anything. "Leave 'em alone," he says firmly, and that's the end of it. If you get overwhelmed or need time alone, he respects that, but he also makes sure you know you're never truly alone. "If you need anything, just come find me,?"

More than anything, Javier makes you feel welcome—like you belong, exactly as you are.

-

Kieran:

Kieran isn't the sharpest, but he's a kind-hearted soul who wants to make sure you're comfortable. He notices when you seem agitated. He knows you're different in a way that's just you—and he likes you just the way you are. Hes the same in some ways.

If you need some space, Kieran's the type to give it to you without asking questions. "You alright there?" he'll ask, his voice soft, before he backs off and leaves you be if you need it. He's not going to push or prod, but he's always there if you want to talk. If something's bothering you and you don't know how to say it, Kieran tries to make light of it, cracking a joke to bring a little ease to the situation.

He's the type to get a little flustered if you talk about something he doesn't understand, but he tries his best. "That's... uh, that's real interesting, I guess," he'll say, awkwardly. But there's no judgment in his voice.

He's not great with words, but he makes up for it with his kindness and willingness to just be there for you, even when he doesn't have a clue what to say.

-

Sean:

Sean's overly energetic and doesn't always understand the finer details of what you might be going through. You often flinch around him, due to his loud outbursts, and of course he rarely notices, not that any of it is on purpose. But when he does notice you're uncomfortable, he'll often try to lighten the mood, cracking jokes or teasing you, though he doesn't mean any harm by it.

If you focus on something passionately, he'll listen, though sometimes he might get distracted or not fully grasp what you're saying. He's not one to judge, though. "Sounds like somethin' alright," he might say, nodding along, even if it's more about hearing you out than truly understanding.

He isn't the type to overanalyze, but if anyone messes with you, Sean's quick to jump in. "Get lost, will ya?" he'll snap, not bothering with subtlety. For all his teasing, he's protective in his own way, and you can tell he'll look after you when it really counts.

-

Josiah:

Josiah is observant and gentle, with a deep understanding of people's different needs. He's quick to recognize when you need space or when something is too much for you. He doesn't make a big deal about it, though—he simply suggests you do something else, a moment of peace. "Why don't we go for a little stroll, eh? Clear our heads," he'll offer with his usual calm tone.

He doesn't rush you, always giving you time to process things at your own pace. Josiah listens to you attentively, offering thoughtful questions and keeping the conversation going. "Ah, quite fascinating. Tell me more about that," he'll say, genuinely interested in whatever you have to share.

Josiah's not the type to make you feel out of place. He adapts to your needs, and while he's usually quite expressive, he shows his care in subtle ways. If you're ever feeling overwhelmed, he might quietly sit with you or give you a little distraction, offering a book or a game of cards to help calm your nerves.

You enjoy his magic tricks, and he often does them for you, allowing you a good distraction from the world.

-

Charles:

Charles quickly notices when things start to feel too much for you. He doesn't ask questions or make you feel uncomfortable; instead, he simply offers a quiet space or suggests a quiet detour. "You look like you could use a break," he'll say, his tone gentle and understanding. He's the kind of person who doesn't need to talk much to know what's going on with you.

He appreciates your perspectives on the world, and often finds you easy to talk to. The two of you often open up to each other, late at night while no one else is listening.

But despite how much he treasures your deep conversations, he's also someone who will sit with you in silence, letting you have the space you need. He values respect and takes the time to understand you, always offering the kind of steady, unspoken support that helps you feel at ease.

-

John:

John is straightforward and not one to mince words, but he's also deeply loyal and protective of those he cares about. He quickly picks up on when things are getting too much for you. He does try his best to help, though sometimes he accidentally does the opposite.

John might not fully understand everything you go through, but he respects it. If you have a special interest or passion, he'll listen even if he doesn't get the details. "Alright, I hear ya," he'll say, nodding as if to show he cares about what you're saying, even if he's not completely following.

John doesn't try to force you to talk or explain your feelings and emotions. He just gives you a little space and waits patiently, knowing you'll come around when you're ready. "Take your time," he'll say quietly, his steady presence offering comfort without pressure.

When it comes to taking care of you, he shows it with actions more than anything.

-

Lenny:

Lenny has a quiet empathy that makes him easy to be around. He notices when you get overstimulated or need space, and he respects it without question, always offering a calm, no-pressure way out of any situation.

He's genuinely interested, in the way you are, but its rare he asks. He doesn't want to put you on the spot, but when you talk, he's good at giving you the time and space you need to do that.

If you need some quiet time or space to yourself, Lenny doesn't push or question it. He just lets you be, offering a reassuring presence from a distance if you need it. "No worries, I'll be around," he'll say, quietly letting you know he's there if you ever want company. He's steady and patient, making sure you feel respected without needing to say much at all.

[maryellencarter]

"What is it about Pokemon specifically that you can't seem to get into?"

You know, I think that's what I'm kind of trying to figure out. It seems like it should be my jam. I didn't grow up gaming -- I'm the right age for the Pokemon phenomenon, give or take, but I was extremely sheltered and had never even picked up a video game controller until about four years ago. (I did get into Mass Effect on PC about twelve years ago, but for a long time that was the only video game I'd ever played.)

I mean, I'm an incurable completionist: I own every single purchasable furniture item in ACNH except one I haven't tracked down yet. I'm all about mathy combat: I calculate potential sneakstrike damage in my head to choose the optimal weapons in Breath of the Wild. I love adorable tiny creatures and evolving them into other slightly less adorable creatures: I have a complete Kanto dex in Pokemon Go, although my increasing mobility issues and the growing pay-to-break-even nature of the app have discouraged me from playing anymore.

But I've tried Let's Go Pikachu, Brilliant Diamond, Scarlet, and Violet, and I haven't gotten past the late midgame in any of them. Partly that's because they really try to force you to have a friend group that plays -- I actually resold my Let's Go cartridge because I was so upset when I found out Gengar was a trade evolution so I wouldn't be able to get one (Gengar is my favorite pokemon, it's so fat and happy and Halloween) -- but I don't think that's the whole reason?

I've been chewing on this for a while, and I'm thinking... it seems to me like a big part of it is that I mostly play games where the devs are more or less on your side. Prepare for the fight the way the game tells you, and it'll be challenging but you'll have good odds of winning. Pokemon has an almost soulsborne attitude where it expects you to go into the fights from about the third gym onwards and *lose* at least once, because there was some kind of clever gotcha with dual-typing or move coverage where they set you up to fail -- you brought a Psychic type to the Fighting gym like the door greeter said, and got owned by Dark moves or a Lucario that has only Steel-type weaknesses.

And that's... probably a good type of game to exist for children? Learning that you're not always going to have all the information, that you will fail, that you might have to step back and refine your plan based on new data and try again, those are all good things to practice. Even as an adult.

But the game never tells you, and the general cultural attitude around Pokemon never tells you, that that's the kind of game it is. You go into a soulsborne, you know from the tutorial area that your ass is there to get kicked. You go into Pokemon being told it's a fun cozy game you can beat while playing like a five-year-old who just picked the mons they liked the best, and the first couple gyms bear out that impression before they flip the script on you.

And I know a big part of the problem is that that is a lesson I could probably use, that it's okay to fail. I tend to be far too much of a perfectionist as well as a completionist. But because it's a game, and I'm aware it's a game that has designers making all these decisions, finding out each new way I've been set up to fail always feels like a slap in the face. I play games when I want something I can succeed at, because god knows the rest of my life isn't that.

So why do I keep coming back? Mainly because it is The franchise for collection completionists, I think. Even that gets annoying, with version exclusives and time-limited mythicals and what all manufactured FOMO, but it's so tempting.

I am kind of interested in learning how to play the older games on emulators, but I'm not sure where one starts with that. I have a gaming laptop that I'm sure could run an emulator, but every time I google it I suspect I'm going to have to finally give in and make a Reddit account in order to access the communities where they teach you about those things.

(A bunch of people have recommended I try Legends Arceus as a different sort of pokemon experience, and I really appreciate the suggestions! I've watched a bunch of Legends Arceus gameplay, and with all the respect in the world, I tend to wind up at "if I wanted to play Breath of the Wild, I'd just boot up Breath of the Wild". The influence is... very apparent. I don't even mean that as a slight -- literally every franchise has been trying to catch up to the ways BotW revolutionized what game worlds are expected to be! But if I'm going to fall in love with Pokemon, it's going to be for the things that make it the most itself? Whatever those are, which I think is what I'm really trying to figure out here.)

Tussling with yet another failed attempt to get into the pokeymans (I think rationally it's probably a genre that is Not For Me, like platformers, but that seems so fucking *stupid*), and I have Some Questions for People. Unfortunately I can only put one poll per post, so please be patient while I stack some reblogs.

[astr-venus]

｡⁠☆I'm Baby｡⁠.ﾟ⁠+⁠ 

☆Tim drake x reader

☆Cw: Damian being a menace, crack/fluff

To be honest, Damian was only getting close to you to bother Drake. He didn't really have a reason for it either, but bothering is pseudo older brother is entertaining, fun even.

It's not tranquil, like painting. It's not rewarding, like training. It's not adrenaline filled, like patrol. No, it's just... Fun.

Damian can't even explain why it's fun either. There's just something about the look of utter anguish, irritation, that crosses Drake's face that just makes him smile.

It's an evil little thing, all sharp teeth and hard lines. Nothing like those big grins you see kids have in childish movies. No, he looks like a shark in fish infested waters. Like a wolf locked in a pen of sheep.

So imagine his surprise when you derail his plans by being likeable. You're clever, and kind, but not smothering like Grayson. He didn't start showing up at your window to actually get close to you, and yet here is, tucked into your side as he vents about school today.

The people at his school are utter imbeciles, and he only goes to appease his father. Not that he understands why his father sends him. He already has a friend his age, Jon! He's sure you'd be his friend too, if he asked.

... Even the thought of doing that is too humiliating to fathom.

He's sure you'd just look at him with that dumb smile that makes his chest feel tight, and you'd probably pet down his hair, and say something like "Of course we're friends! Why else would I let you crash on my couch after patrol?" Because you're good like that, and always give reasons why you do and feel things.

But he'd rather drop dead than be perceived as childish or immature. Asking someone to be your friend is playground chat, and Damian stopped going to a school with a playground this year so he's much too old for that. Instead he just rambles about how many times he's had to correct his teacher this year, because if he thinks the kids are stupid don't get him started on the adults.

You listen the whole way through, an arm wrapped around his shoulder. He's practically squished to your side. He planted himself there as soon as he got through the lock on your front door, but you don't say anything about it, you never do. It's much more tolerable than Grayson's constant cooing.

"And do you know what the worst part is?" Damian huffs, a balled fist gripping your pants.

"What?"

"She tried to correct me on the Greek Pantheon, me! It's as if my chosen aunt isn't Princess Diana of Themscryia! Imbeciles, everyone of them!"

You nod solemnly, clearly understanding Damian's plight. This is why he comes to you, no one at that blasted manor gets it. They would try and correct him, teach him to be more understanding, but you just listen! You listen, and commiserate! Like any good sibling should.

"I used to have a teacher like that. It turned out no matter what I told him, no matter what evidence I presented, he just decided that I was a lost cause anyway." You roll your eyes, picking at the stitching of Damian's sleeve. He should probably stop you, but he can't even bring himself to give the gesture a glance of his attention. "I ended up transferring out of the class, my peace was not worth the credit. I just took it online instead."

"If only father were that understanding. I would take every class online if I could."

"What, there isn't a single thing you enjoy about school? When I was your age I only ever showed up for extracurriculars, but they managed to at least make it a little worth it for me."

Damian wants to say no, "My art and art teacher isn't deplorable." But that would be a lie.

"What're they-"

The lock of your farthest window clicks, interrupting you. Damian slips a blade out of the pocket of his school uniform, but doesn't bother moving. A measley intruder won't stand a chance against him, especially because they would be interrupting his you time.

A foot slides in through the open window. Black slacks, he can tell by the hemlines they're expensive. The shoes are glossy, but slightly scuffed, also clearly expensive.

Damian glares, he knows exactly who this is. The grip of his blade gets tighter.

"Hey babe." Drake greets, pulling his satchel in the window before closing it. "You'll never believe the day I had at work-"

Damian and Drake lock eyes. He can feel his eyes turn into giddy crescents as Tim's face falls into disbelief. Yes, this is the exact feeling he's been waiting for. He could revel in that disgusted expression he has.

"What's he doing here?" Drake sneered.

"Don't be rude."

"Wha- I'm not being rude. I just- baby, sweetheart, why the fuck is my little brother in your apartment?"

For his part, Damian just snuggles closer to you, causing you to squeeze him tighter. If it's even possible, he looks even more smug than he did before. All according to plan.

"I invited him. He likes to hangout after school sometimes." You smile, it's genuine, as if you're completely oblivious to why this would distress Tim. They both know you well enough to know you're having just as much fun fucking with your boyfriend as Damian is.

"You know each other? You do this regularly??"

"No thanks to you. I've only met your family once and it was in passing, Tim! What was I supposed to do, tell him to leave? He's just a baby!"

Under normal circumstances, Damian would grow irate at being called a baby. He is ten years old, in double digits, basically an adult! However, annoying Drake takes precedence right now.

"Yeah Drake, I'm just a baby." Damian says flatly. "I'm just a baby, and you're scaring me."

You gasp. "Timothy you're scaring my baby!"

"That demon is NOT a baby! Are you under mind control? Blink twice if you need help."

Your hand tugs Damian into your chest, and you plant a kiss on his forehead. His demonic smile wavers for a moment as a flush hits his cheeks, that same icky syrup-like feeling you tend to give him curling in his chest. It comes right back when he sees that absolute offended and affronted look on Drake's face.

This is the best day of his life.

"If you don't start being nice to this sweet baby angel right this second, I'll have to throw you out of my apartment. Sorry Tim, those are the rules."

"You just made that up, those- that's- those aren't the rules!"

Damian pulls out of your hold to sit up straight on the couch, re-pulling out his switchblade. It glints off the yellowish lighting in your apartment, the same glint in his wolfish grin.

"Please." He stands. "It would be an honor if you would allow me."

You pretend to think about it, a matching mischievous look on your face. "Hmm okay, but only because you asked so nicely.

"I'm sorry Tim, but I don't make the rules, I just follow them."

"I'm not sorry." Damian brags.

"Shut it, brat."

Tim begins to climb back out the window, huffing as his satchel gets stuck on the sill for the second time. His head pokes back in before he closes it, a glare, that would be terrifying if Damian was anyone else, on his face.

"This isn't over."

"I disagree."

The window slams shut, and Damian slots himself right back where he was before. Both of you have the evilist of giggles as you basket on the high of teasing Tim Drake.

Despite his shitty day at school, it's a good day, anyway.

You only played along bc Tim's been ignoring you for the sake of work, leaving his stabby little brother here to satiate your boredom. This is petty revenge.

Damian also becomes the biggest cock block in the world after this. You think it's funny, Tim not so much.

Also planning on writing a short follow up to this where Tim comes to you after patrol and needs reassurance.

｡⁠☆Requests open

[suzukiblu]

Day thirty of “Kon meets pink kryptonite and decides to fuck Tim and his boyfriend about it” behind the cut. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“I mean, like–it’s a little like–” Kon tries with another embarrassed wince, and burns alive, and just– “Like–it’s not as good as getting kissed, just–” 

God, he is not making this sound normal. Like not even a little bit is he making this sound normal. 

“Ohhhhh my gods,” Bernard mutters, then grabs his face again and kisses him. Kon’s still embarrassed out of his mind but like, he’s not gonna not kiss him back, obviously, so like–he kisses him back, and rewraps his arms a little tighter around him again, and just ignores the insistent demand of both his burning embarrassment and his over-optimistic dick trying trying to get–well, over-optimistic. Or like–a little ahead of itself, at least. 

Well, like, he tries to, anyway. 

It just feels, like–good, that’s all. Just–that’s all. 

Kon shouldn’t actually be embarrassed, given his entire life experience and also the fact that Bernard very clearly does not mind, but like–it just feels embarrassing, still. He shouldn’t even have said anything but it just would’ve been such a weird thing to lie about and– 

Why is he getting embarrassed so easily, some distracted part of him thinks. Like–as if he’s really–? 

“You are so hard not to, like, either fuck stupid or just cuddle into submission, it is the weirdest and most fascinating dichotomy,” Bernard informs him, leaning back from the kiss and rubbing his thumbs along the arcs of both of Kon’s cheekbones as he grins up at him. Kon feels sort of wooed. Or like–super-wooed. No pun intended or whatever. Just–wooed, yeah. Way, way too wooed. “Do you think we can make cuddle-fucking a thing because I thought we were doing a pretty good job of it the last time, so like, what are your feelings on refining the rough draft version later?” 

Yeah, Kon is way too easily embarrassed right now, what the fuck. 

“I dunno, man, I don’t know shit about editing,” he says, grinning maybe a little dopily back at the guy as he gives him a little telekinetic squeeze. “Might take a few tries, y’know? You got the stamina for that?” 

“Why did I not order any overnight-delivery sex toys when I was ordering the groceries,” Bernard mutters. “That was such an oversight on my part, truly, I am so sorry for letting down the side there. Really don’t have the equipment to put any pink kryptonite in it here, though, at least as far as I’m aware. Possibly I should’ve asked Tim about that one, come to think, but at least I could’ve gotten something standard.” 

“For literally just ‘til Monday?” Kon asks with a snicker. 

“I mean like you could keep ‘em, party favors or whatever,” Bernard replies reasonably. “But if you didn’t want ‘em I’m sure our toybox would’ve had room for a new plug and a nice fat strap.” 

Kon cannot actually even decide which one of those ideas makes him more insane–getting sent home with “party favor” sex toys to just, like–keep that Tim and Bernard had used on him, or the two of them keeping sex toys that they’d used on him. 

“You are way too good at this shit, I am not used to not being the kinkiest fucker in the conversation,” he says frankly, and Bernard laughs and gives him a quick little kiss. 

“What can I say, man, you’re inspiring me to bring my A-game,” he replies with a smug little smirk, then taps two fingers against the dip of Kon’s collarbone. “We’d definitely have let you keep the collar, though. You totally earned that.” 

Kon puts his hands over his face so he can, like, die in private for a moment, then bursts into laughter so he won’t just disassemble himself, and Bernard pushes himself up on his toes to kiss the back of his knuckles and then laughs harder, and Kon spreads his fingers to look at him while he’s still in all close and feels this weird giddy, like–warm feeling, and just, like–just really wants to kiss him some more. Like a lot more. Like so much more. 

Also he did not really remember how much he actually likes brown eyes, but he is being very strongly reminded right now. And like, that warm melty-sweet look that specifically Bernard’s eyes have is . . . a lot, definitely. 

Seriously, no wonder Tim’s so into this dude. Like–Bernard is clearly just very, very easy to get into, as a person and all.

[car-o-line]

REQUEST ALERT!! What about Doey with a player who is a perfectionist?(Gets hard on themselves when they mess up.) ( I’M 100% SERIOUS WHEN I SAY THIS, BUT I AM NOT TRYING TO ENCOURAGE THIS BEHAVIOR! THIS IS A WAY TO SHOW PEOPLE THAT THERE ARE PEOPLE WHO GO THROUGH THIS! Which it makes me sad :( ) sincerely, a person named Aiden!!

I REMEMBER YOU AIDEN😈😈😈😈 ALSO LIKE WHAT AIDEN SAID THIS IS NOT ENCOURAGING THIS BEHAVIOR I LOVE YOU GUYS STAY SAFE<3333

Doey with a reader who is a perfectionist

Big dough man was, well obviously learned about you from Poppy. She told him how perfect you were. How you did everything perfectly and without flaw.

He was quite surprised but also intrigued by you because Poppy never really gave him such a high stander for anyone in the facility.

He started searching for you, and eventually found you trying to escape from Yarnaby. He let you know of his presence quietly and lit a small fire to drive Yarnabys attention away from you so you could escape without the possibility of being harmed.

Once you finally came into contact with him he acted as he normally did, he still couldn’t trust you all that much but he wanted to believe in Poppy, believe her words that you truly were here to help(you weren’t, you just wanted to go home😐)

After some 1 on 1 time with you he started to notice the oddities about you as a person. How you wouldn’t let anything within your path be dirty, wiping even the smallest piece of dust off a toy whose life was long gone already. Or, how you’d restart a whole puzzle if you made a fixable mistake in the midst of it.

He thought your way of doing things was odd, I mean. He doesn’t believe making sure the chain is connected to the door perfectly is necessary. He thinks a lot of the things you do are unnecessary actually-

But the souls inside the toy just believed that those little habits were just small quirks about you.

“Safe Haven is right ahead..I’ll have Kissy show you around.”

“🙂, 😐, 😦, 😧, 😬.”

(that was you when you saw Safe Havens state)

He noticed your reaction and gave a playful giggle towards it, mentioning how it wasn’t the cleanest because he didn’t have the time TO clean it.

You immediately offered to do it for him, it wasn’t that you were upset or angry with him, it’s just that you yourself couldn’t stay in a place so messy without wanting to bang your head against a wall.

He denied, of course. He didn’t want you cleaning after him and the others but you insisted. So instead of putting more attention to that subject, he switched it and brought you to Poppy where she’d speak more on what the plan was. But before she gives you more tasks to do, Doey suggests that you take a rest. “You’ve been working too hard and you’ll get too tired to do anything else,��� he’d say.

Poppy, thankfully, was fond of that idea as well. She also told Doey it’d be best for everyone in Safe Haven to rest too(something they can finally agree on💀)

You were hesitant because since you’re down here already instead of where you’re actually supposed to be to be- cough cough home cough cough chapter 2 ending- and you just wanted to get all this mess fixed up as soon as possible.

But you had really no choice on the matter, you were afraid of going out in the danger again without a partner to go with. So just following what Poppy and Doey say are you best option.

Though while everyone was resting, you just couldn’t seem to do so yourself. You just couldn’t fall asleep somewhere so meet, not when someone could actually do something about it and clean it.

So that’s what you did, you spent the whole night cleaning and throwing trash away to the best of your ability. Even if something seemed impossible to clean because of how dirty it was you didn’t give up because it just felt wrongly to leave something imperfect.

You even took the time to wipe off any and all dirt off of most of the sleeping toys. Gently using a wet clothing to get them clean again.

Once everyone awoke the toys were pleasantly surprised to be cleaned, like they just took a “shower” but as a toy.

Doey was actually quite saddened by what you did, don’t get him wrong though. He appreciates it truly, but the result was that he didn’t get to help you and that you didn’t get a wink of sleep.

Matthew was the most worried about your habit of making sure everything’s perfect. He’d remind you that even if the thing wasn’t flawless that it could still serve its purpose. He doesn’t like when you insist on working on something past evening just because you don’t think it’s good enough, he doesn’t like that you don’t you’re good enough. In the end he’s try his best to reassure you that you’re doing the best you can in this situation, and that’s all that matters.

Kevin thinks your mindset is just plan unnecessary. Like, why are you brushing kissy fur until she looks brand new? She’ll get dirty anyway. What’s the point? He doesn’t see why you do the things you do, but once he gets slightly closer with you, he starts to get used to it. He wouldn’t find that concerning because he hasn’t talked to many actual people since he got transferred to Doey. He wouldn’t know what’s concerning and what’s not unless you were just psychotic. Which, you weren’t(maybe, who knows🥳)

Jack is more playful about the whole thing tbh. He thinks it’s funny how you rush around to make sure everything is in order. But he gets somewhat whiny when he asks you to draw a picture of Doey or Poppy and you throw a hissy fit because you drew an imperfect circle for the head, or it just doesn’t look like the Mona Lisa. He giggles when that happens, he doesn’t mean to but when you actually get really upset he worry’s and holds you hand, then tells you that you did good.

[drakmanka]

Dragon, dinosaur, raven, elf, some sort of demigod

I'm comfortable with most of the existing labels. I met Therians first, and they told me as a dragon I was Otherkin not Therian. I now know better and identify as both, but generally use the Alterhuman label as it's just quicker to type.

It was a fairly long process, starting with a growing fixation on dragons in my mid-teens. When I was about 15 I started drawing dragons pretty obsessively, with six or more sketches every day. I was always dissatisfied with them, like there was a particular image I wanted to create and it was eluding me. I actually experienced my first phantom shift during this time while trying to imagine what folded wings would look like and suddenly felt wings on my back. All of this culminated in a moment where I somewhat impulsively said to myself "I am a dragon" and it felt so euphoric to say that there was no denying it. I was being raised by an EXTREMELY conservative Christian mom who tried to control most of my life, and so it took me a very long time to figure out how all this fit in with the things I'd been taught. There were existential crises and lots of sleepless nights. It was years before I found out I wasn't alone, because I had functionally zero internet access. That was nearly 17 years ago though and I'm comfortable with my place in the community. My spiritual beliefs are substantially healthier now, too, incorporating aspects from my dragon past life with pagan practices and the good bits from Christianity like love, patience, and kindness.

Dragon without question. Not only was it first, but it's the most intense and I've found that even shifts from other 'types ultimately morph into dragon shifts. It's the key that holds all of me together.

Raven! And honestly I should've figured it out a lot sooner, there were signs all the way back in early childhood. I guess I needed to be a dragon first.

Whatever this demigod being is. It's proving to be very difficult to explore and it's extremely frustrating!

It's just right. It's like finding a new shirt that just fits and you know you'd be a fool to leave it on the shelf. There's so much comfort that comes from knowing what I am inside and I don't give a shit if some closed-minded people think I'm crazy for it.

Sometimes. I'm working on modifying a Jurassic World mask into a dragon mask that if I don't screw it up in the process ought to look a lot like my dragonself. I also wear cat ears to work, not because I am a cat but because they're fun and make the kids I work with (school bus driver) very happy!

Take it slow, you literally cannot rush this. Don't be afraid to be wrong and don't let being wrong discourage you. You are valid.

Basically everything. I've slowly, methodically, and not without some setbacks modified my life to be as kin-affirming as possible. I even left a very high-paying job to become a school bus driver because the previous job was sucking away my soul, quite literally burying my dragonself under piles of human shit. Working with kids and doing something that engages every part of my mind (anyone who thinks driving a 40-foot-long potato filled with miniature humans around is easy is kidding themselves) makes me feel so draconic it's amazing.

Strangest from whose perspective? If we're talking humans, probably doing quads and practicing raven calls. If we're talking me, eating pasta. It connects me to multiple 'types simultaneously and feels very euphoric. Not to mention... pasta yum.

Honestly I just live in the moment and see where it takes me. I've found trying to add too much structure makes my 'types very shy and my shifts, noemata, and everything else become like pulling teeth at best.

Yup! I used to as a kid way before I awakened and before I knew it was an official thing. Recently started doing it again under the guise of exercise but really it's for species affirmation.

Honestly not sure I could call any of them funny? But the closest I can get is more or less a realization that I should have figured out my dinosaur 'type way sooner. Like, the signs were there as young as 6 years old. I'm a Plateosaurus, and my first time ever encountering them in literature was a Magic School Bus book in the school library. Little kid-me was just confused why I was so drawn to these bizarre, long-necked critters. "Shouldn't my favorite dinosaur be one of the 'cool' ones, like Allosaurus?" naive little me thought. It wasn't until the first episodes of Prehistoric Planet aired and reawoke my interest in dinosaurs that I finally dug out my own copy of that book and, with a lot of thought and a couple of triggered dreams, made the connection at last.

As I mentioned in #10 pretty much everything. It would be easier to list the things that don't quite frankly. I'm very good at finding ways to use my imagination to shift my perspective so even mundane things like sweeping and vacuuming become relevant to my alterhumanity. I'm not sweeping the kitchen, I'm cleaning old shed scales up to make every part of my den neat and tidy. I'm not driving a school bus, I'm escorting hatchlings back home safe and sound. You get the picture.

100% yes. As I mentioned I was raised Christian and extremely sheltered. I've spent a good chunk of my adult life figuring out how the real world works outside the bubble my mom stuffed me in. Part of that was reconciling the beliefs I was raised with, with my understanding of my own inner identity.

I've never been diagnosed with any mental illnesses or neurodivergences, though I do suspect I am some flavor of neurodivergent.

Again, 100% yes. I unironically identify as Dragongender, though publicly I use the Genderfluid label. I could write an entire essay (and someday maybe I will) about my draconic species' views, or lack thereof, on gender and how it's affected my gender identity. For now I'll just say this: my species had no concept of gender in any form. Individuals just were. As you see them. As a result, my gender expression aligns more with what makes me feel like a dragon rather than what makes me feel like [insert gender here].

I feel like this is a hard one to quantify. It would be like asking a human "what's your favorite thing about being human?" I am alterhuman and I wouldn't be me if I wasn't. I guess being myself is my favorite part?

Ironically this is easier to answer. Ultimately I just wish for the day I could be fully out as myself without fear of consequences brought on by the willfully, violently ignorant.

Alterhuman questions

Kintypes?

What do you prefer to call yourself (therian, otherkin, nonhuman, etc)

How did you find out you were alterhuman?

Favorite kintype?

Most recent kintype?

Least favorite kintype?

What are your reasonings for being alterhuman?

Do you wear gear? If so, what kind?

Any advice to new alterhumans?

What're some things you do to affirm your kintypes?

Strangest thing you do to affirm your kintypes?

What are your goals to affirm your kintypes?

Do you do quads?

Funniest way you found out a kintype?

How does being alterhuman affect your day to day life?

Does being alterhuman affect your religious beliefs?

Do your mental illnesses affect your view of your alterhumanness?

Does being alterhuman affect your gender?

What is your favorite thing about being alterhuman

What is your least favorite thing about being alterhuman

PS. I know not everyone resonates with the word kintype and I'm sorry for using it I just didn't know what other word to use

Reblogging this means that you want people to send you asks!