#calling your siblings sis or bro??? is apparently weird??? but its so natural to me. like yeah thats my kuya!!

[vasito-de-leche]

hello!! your writing is so good i am perceiving it /pos. i'm not sure if you do familial/platonic requests so ignore this if you don't but may i request click with a reader who he sees as an older sibling? it can be headcanons or like general thoughts i don't rlly care. thank you!! <3

;R1999 CLICK - Familial Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons and analysis about Click and an older sibling figure.

ty for the ask, nonnie <3 and yes, I do write for familial/platonic stuff too, not just romance! check the rules if you have any questions!

As far as I know, there's no information about Click's family nor their dynamics, and he doesn't seem to fit any of the stereotypical youngest/middle/eldest child labels. So, going by personality alone, I'd say that for Click to consider someone as his very own older sibling figure, they'd have to be somewhat similar to him!

Not necessarily a carbon copy of him, mind you - they don't have to share his passion for photography nor agree with him 24/7! Just someone who he can relate to and who brings him a sense of security. Perhaps someone like Zima! Insightful, with a strong core and sense of self, aiming to broaden his horizons.

Someone who has also seen the darker aspects of life, lived through tragedies and come out stronger - Click is proud of his job, but he knows that talking about heavy subjects isn't everyone's cup of tea. So he'd like to know that his older sibling figure can understand or is trying to understand where he comes from, that he doesn't mean to bring the mood down whenever he happens to bring up the subject of war. It's part of his life and his experiences, and pretending that it didn't happen would be a disservice to all the things he's witnessed.

Alternatively, Click would gravitate towards anyone who shows extreme passion for their craft, regardless of what it might be - creative people who are dedicated and who experience the world through different artistic mediums are a big inspiration for him. Someone who drags him into all sorts of situations, allowing Click to capture many different points of view that he would've otherwise missed. Someone like Regulus or Diggers!

Click tends to wander and disappear a lot. It's always up to you to find him.

Younger siblings tend to either follow after their older siblings all the time like puppies, or disappear off the face of the Earth and mind their business (I'm the youngest of 6 siblings, I can vouch for this). Click fits the latter!

It's common for him to just wander around and disappear for days on end to focus on taking the best pictures across the Wilderness, with nothing but his camera and his thoughts. Somehow, he always seems to know whenever you call out to him - he'll manifest beside you right away, hoping he's not gotten into trouble. It's a weird feeling, knowing people expect him to keep in touch and come back safe and sound, that no matter where he goes, he'll still hear your voice calling out to him because he's going to miss dinner (not that he even needs to eat). But it's a very nice, warm feeling, so he doesn't mind.

I like to think Click - and pretty much any ghost within the universe of R1999 - can just become invisible to the human eye at will, with arcanists (especially those of Spirit and Intelligence afflatus) being able to sense their presence. During particularly bad days, where PTSD might be giving Click a hard time, he'll just fade away so that no one can see him. And then, he'll pick a spot to sit and wait for it to blow over.

Sometimes, you find him anyway, no matter how much he tries to hide. Sometimes, he lets you know where he is. Either way, he lets you know that he'd like for you to stay and keep him company - I imagine there's a system you two come up with, should he feel too overwhelmed to talk. Knock once for yes, two for no. Tug on your shirt if he wants to lead you somewhere quieter, pat your hand to sit down with him, etc etc.

Everyone begins to see you as Click's guardian.

On a less sad note, whenever someone needs Click for anything, they always go to you first and foremost! Either because you're the only one who can figure out where he may be, or because they want to run their plans through you first.

Vertin specifically makes sure to know if you'd like to accompany him during missions that require his presence, or if you'd like to know the details of his next solo mission. It's something she does out of politeness and as a a formality - and because Click just seems to perk up just a tiny bit if she tells him that you expect him to do a proper job. Whenever Lilya is planning to give Click a ride to take better pictures, she always jokes around, saying that she'll bring your precious brother back in one piece. Pavia always jokingly threatens Click to snitch on him and tell his "big scary sibling" that he's been taking pictures of people when they sleep.

From an outsider's point of view - those who do not belong to this group - it feels like everyone is infantilizing Click. He's 19 and a war photographer! But one has to remember that everyone in this suitcase has lost family and friends to the "Storm".

Aside from being displaced and forced into unfamiliar waters, everyone is dealing with so many things on their own, like losing their lives and all the people they once knew and cared for. So knowing that Click was able to form such a strong bond with you, to trust and see you as family, despite everything? It really brings them hope for a brighter future - Vertin's goal to create a place for those who have nowhere else to go starts to make sense for them. And hey, most of them are willing to stop with their little jokes and such should they bother you or Click!

This specific point comes from me seeing Vertin's group as one huge found family - there's no way everyone will get along, but at the end of the day, everyone trusts and relies and takes care of each other. The dynamics within this found family are much too complex for me to get into right now and for people outside of it to even understand, just know that it's a thing!

Click picks up on your mannerisms and speech pattern unconsciously.

Click isn't very talkative outside of the usual photography or artistic talk, he's more of a listener. And while he does become a little more talkative around you, opening up and whatnot, you tend to do most of the talking. And that's how he ends up picking up your mannerisms!

It's especially funny for everyone if you happen to have a very different and contrasting way of speech- the way Click just casually drops an F bomb in that soft-spoken voice whenever he fails to get the perfect shot will NEVER stop funny.

I like to think that, because of how observant he is, he also ends up picking up on your unique gestures. It's all an unconscious thing he does - if someone points it out Click won't even know what they're talking about, entirely oblivious to the fact that he now emotes and makes the same facial expressions as you do, the same gestures (at least when his hands are free, instead of clinging to that camera of his) and using the same phrases and whatnot.

[dopecoffeetimemachine]

So this will be an incredibly long blog post.

This is my story. It’s like 3 pages, so take your time to read it if you are interested. It is the reason I need people to be aware of sexism and vow to stand up against it. Please join me here and irl, my next posts will be short ;)

Hi! I started this blog, because the past few days I started to feel obligated to educate the people around me about sexism. How do you do that? And when is the right time to stand up against these kinds of situations? I decided to write about the daily sexism I experience in my life to make the situation of mankind a little bit more clearly for those who don’t (want to) see this side of life. Male, female or other, I hope we can all see the world a little bit clearer and not get discouraged, but empowered to stand up. So one day, sexism will be unfathomable to our kids. Or even ourselves.

So, first things first, what is my story? Well, my story is not like that of anyone else (or at least anyone’s I’ve heard of). One of my parents is from a family with a lot of abuse. Amongst other things, they were sexually abused from a very young age, as were their siblings. As they went on in life, each of them chose different ways of adapting to deal with the cruelties that were done to them. It now so happened that one of my parents brothers started to have some feelings for children that he didn’t want to feel. Having a kid on his lap made him feel sexually aroused, among other things. Horrified as he was by these things that he felt, but didn’t want to feel, he did the thing that makes him one of the most courageous people I know: he told my parents. He felt that the only way of making sure that he wouldn’t commit such a horrendous crime as was done to him in his youth, was to warn the people that were his closest family. He wanted to protect their children at the chance of being thrown out of the family. But my parents didn’t do that. They chose to love him as the victim he was, but at the same time never let me or my brothers alone in a room with him. We never went over to his house, never had sleepovers, we were always with our parents when he was around. They tried to give him a chance to heal from the assault he suffered, while at the same time protecting their children. They loved, but they were not naïve.

However, something went horribly wrong. You know how sometimes people say: when I was a kid for a long time I thought life was like this or that, because I didn’t understand the grownup world and I reasoned like the small kid I was and I totally misunderstood? Well, I had that, but in a funny anecdote kind of way.

Because I was a very affectionate child, my parents decided to explain to me why I couldn’t hug my uncle anymore like I used to. They said: “You know how you always hug your uncle when he comes visit us? Well, you can’t anymore, because when you do that, he feels things that (I don’t know exactly how they explained it, but my six-year-old self knew they were talking about sex).” Of course, I was shocked by this and firmly promised that I would never do that again. I mean, no six-year-old wants to be involved in anything sexual ever. After this, we never spoke about the situation again and this knowledge started its own life. You see, even though the explanation of my parents could be interpreted the way they meant it, it was very vague. What I got from it was this: 1) you shouldn’t hug men, because you will make them feel sexually aroused; 2) you are the one that should take the responsibility not to make them feel aroused. Otherwise, if something happens to you, it’s your own mistake; 3) you are not safe within your closest family or with the people you love and trust. Could my parents know that this would happen in my mind? Probably not. Should they have spoken more about this situation (more extensive, talk about it at other instances, etc.)? Maybe. But as one of them was a sexual assault survivor, it is not very hard to understand this was a tough topic to guide their children around. It still hurts, though, because it could have prevented so much pain.

Anyway, as time went by I got more and more scared of men (I think this is the one and only advantage of the very heteronormative surroundings I grew up in: I never thought women could feel sexual attraction towards a girl). Now someone who doesn’t see the sexism surrounding us might ask: why would you? They didn’t assault you now, did they? No, they didn’t. But here’s the thing: NOTHING IN SOCIETY SPOKE AGAINST THOSE ASSUMPTIONS I MADE IN MY HEAD! I was told to sit up straight, because it would be weird if I lay down on the couch on a birthday (Why? Boys can lay down? Is it too sexual?). I wasn’t supposed to wear clothes that were ‘too tight’ or ‘too revealing’. Did my clothes make me a risk for my own safety? What is wrong with the female body that I cannot show a little cleavage but my brother can wear tank tops that have armholes so wide the only thing you cannot see is his belly button – at least until he bends over? Apparently boys didn’t get raped for having a body. Why was I not allowed to bike home alone from a school dance when I was 15, but it was okay if my 12yo brother with a bowl cut (sorry bro), horrible braces and barely reaching my shoulder accompanied me home? He definitely couldn’t defend me, however much he would try (love you man), so it just had to do with the fact that I was a woman?

All these things confirming that solely being a woman was enough to be unsafe in this society and that it would be my own fault too, resulted in behavior that can only be described as distorted. As I grew up, I refused to wear my hear in any other way then pulled back. Wearing your hair down is sexual, we all know that. As soon as I started growing boobs, I started to wear shawls. The bigger, the better (the shawls I mean 😉 ). At some point I had more shawls than pants or shirts. When I was older and started to work in a supermarket, I never made eye contact with any male customers. If one of the male customers smiled at me, just being friendly, nothing weird, I felt terrible. Why did I do that? Now there was an even bigger chance he would feel like he could take me!

All this time I didn’t know this shit was shit. And I was scared of every man in my life. The only person I was not scared of was my dad (and maybe two friends). Notice that not even my brothers are on this list. I remember one time I was like 12 and me and my younger brother were having a good time, as you do as siblings between yelling how much you hate each other. He has always been a very loving sweetheart, so he wrote me a note that said: I love you sis. It scared the shit out of me. I threw it back into his room, screamed at him and locked myself in in my own room. As I grew up, I was scared of my friends, my brothers, my teachers and most of my family. And it could be that way, not only through the horrible things that were done to my parents family and the trauma that followed from that, but also through the casual sexism ever so present in society.

Around the time I was nineteen, I was lying in bed, thinking about the world as one does, and suddenly realized that none of my female friends were scared of their uncles. I had been to their birthdays and they just laughed with them, hugged them, played rough house. It started to dawn on me that my situation wasn’t the usual. Not all men were like that. And that might mean that I have been thoroughly misunderstanding a lot about life.

Realizing that this might become a huge shifting point in my life, I decided to push it away. It had to wait until the holidays I had planned with my best friends. These girls are my safe house and I knew I would need them when this was about to go down.

The first day of that week I gathered all the courage I had, not knowing if I was stupid or overreacting or actually mentally disturbed or whatever. So I told them about all my fears and how I was not sure if they were normal and what they thought about it. And they were the sweetest, most caring and loving friends I could have ever asked for, supporting me in every way. They hugged me, were understanding, cried with me as I started to realize how fucked up my mind was and how all these years of fear were for nothing. They promised me one of the most helpful things anyone had ever done for me to help me recover: I could tell them all my fears and disturbing thoughts and they told me if they were true. Now I could wave goodbye to the fear of being snatched away and raped by that man standing behind me in the crowd. I didn’t need to be afraid of making eye contact, no normal man would take that as a sign that he could have sex with you even when you’d fight him. I started to gain perspective and that helped me to discern my thoughts when I was alone, so I could keep fighting this battle in my mind. It has been a terribly hard fight, with many (mis)understanding counselors, shocked but supporting friends and many other people along the way.

And it made me think. How could I protect other girls, growing up in this world, trying to understand this big thing called life? How could I make sure they had no reason to be afraid of the loving, good men around them, thinking their safety is at risk at all times and that it would be their fault? Of course, I can’t make sure no one ever grows up in a family with victims of sexual assault.

But I can work at a world where sexism isn’t natural anymore.

No (implied) inequality, sexist jokes, different expectations and standards, no ignorance. So I will do that through this blog. It might not be read by people not actively looking for this content, but it will remind me to speak out to the people around me, and maybe it will do the same for you.

Feel free to react!