#i don't understand how someone can BE like this

[mortalityplays]

actually as long as we're talking about realistic expectations of ageing, the nature of social media decontextualising people's personal posts has absolutely given some of you guys a false and potentially dangerous view of how your body is expected to change over time. I semi frequently see people sharing or repackaging commentary on experiences with disability as if it's an inevitable part of getting older. and like, yes, as you get older you are likely to develop new conditions, injuries or disabilities, but you need to understand your body's baseline well enough to identify those changes and interrogate them.

e.g. if you are seriously having such bad joint or back pain in your 30s that it hampers your day to day activities, you need to take that seriously. that is not 'just ageing', that's potentially an indicator of an underlying condition, unaddressed injury (which is quite common but will get worse if you don't notice and take care of it) or daily habits (poor posture, poor diet, sedentary lifestyle) causing cumulative damage to your body.

I know plenty of 30+ and 40+ year olds who are not especially athletic but who can still climb up and down stairs with ease, sit on the floor and get up again without discomfort, have floor or shower sex, ride a bike, wrestle a dog or a kid, climb a tree, maybe even do a handstand. there is no shame at all in developing pain or mobility issues which limit the kinds of things you can do comfortably, but it doesn't serve anyone to pretend that those changes are bound up with reaching a certain age. even in your 60s and 70s and beyond you should notice if you start feeling a new kind of pain or physical limitation. don't dismiss this shit just because someone told you "yeah that happens when you pass 30"

[bebsi-cola]

i think people don't know how to differentiate between hard access issues and soft access issues, or don't want to. a lot of access issues aren't clearly one or the other but having no ramps is a hard access issue for obligate wheelchair users. you've gotta stop comparing every accessibility issue to ramps.

because when you compare a soft access issue (an issue which makes accessing somewhere or something painful, difficult, insulting, frustrating, etc) with a hard access issue (an issue which makes accessing somewhere or something impossible) then you inadvertently imply that the persons who experience those hard access issues don't also experience soft access issues.

like say you have a disabled student in a wheelchair. education is famously inaccessible, so everyone says "not providing this is like not providing a ramp." but it's not, firstly because they don't even provide ramps much of the time. like they straight up aren't doing that and you're acting like it's this horrible impossibility that we should understand is super bad so you can compare your own thing to it. which is just incorrect when they're not doing it.

but let's say there's a ramp. so there's a ramp but it's a 5 minute detour to get to so the wheelchair user is always late. the desks are too high to see past, the lecture hall has automated doors but no dedicated wheelchair space so they have to sit off side. can they see properly? does someone catch them up with the missed introduction? where will they take notes?

and the accessible route can be even longer than a 5 minute detour. the route might be round back, next to all the trash/rubbish. that's not dignified but it's also not sanitary either, which is dangerous to disabled people. is it round back where everyone smokes? i sure hope that wheelchair user has no respiratory issues. are they getting penalised for being late all the time? will that affect their attendance? what if they're an international student on a visa and need high attendance to stay in the country? there's a million soft access issues that are present even if the bare minimum of basic access (can i get inside) is met. but yeah there's a ramp. so whatever i guess

[shadowbrightshine]

I have a few!

When unsure of what to say, instead of mentioning an obscure interest, find something about them to complement. Such as shirt. This can help in opening them up to more conversation. However, while many ask "where did you get them" if the person is under the age of 25, often you will get "oh I don't know, my mom/dad bought them for me, /Christmas gift/ I don't remember" which can hault things.

Do not say how are you more than 2 times per conversation. They will get annoyed. If don't say it at all, you don't need to start.

Test the waters with more popular topics before talking about deeper ones. Wearing merchandise of the thing you like can Jumpstart this by finding someone who already knows/likes what you do. Very useful, very helpful.

If you don't like sports. NEVER make the "sports ball jokes" those who also don't like them will be bored of the reused joke, and those who love them will likely be annoyed. It's really not that funny anymore.

Carry something interesting to talk about, but nothing too crazy. Such as, a cool pen, or a plastic figurine. Don't carry around the inside of a DVD player, unless around others who are also strange that you might know, or in a small community you are part of, like a church.

To befriend a child, don't use baby talk, but also keep your words simple. Try to be engaged with them. Surefire topics for any young child are, cars, their shoes, any jewelry they have, any object they are holding, their age, or if they have siblings. These are some friendly and safe topics to discuss with young children, and can also help you befriend their families. Great way to make friends if you like hanging out with families like me!

Try ro watch at least one very popular show, or 3 very popular movies. Look for movies that have lots of quote able lines. These will help you understand others better. If you can't bear to watch it, go online and learn the references manually.

Here's a few tips on looking normal!

can someone recommend some beginner normal behaviors for someone looking to become normal

[enavstars]

I wanted to do this in digital but I don't have the time right now.

For context I hc Rin and Obito as 2 years older than Kakashi, so Kakashi was 12 during Kannabi and Rin and Obito 14.

I don't usually draw Rin that much but I absolutely love her and plan to do more with her. It's funny because when I first watched the show I didn’t like her. It wasn't until I began to read fanfics and saw all the headcanons and interpretations of her character here on tumblr that I started to like her. So thank you all for that <3<3

So here are some (bits of how I see her/of my my headcanons about her) on her relationship with Kakashi.

Rin used to idealize Kakashi, so ended up crushing on him. And Kakashi really did carry himself with a lot of self-confidence and strenght, always giving that prodigy vibes. So Rin being a kid didn't realize how young Kakashi actually is.

This changes after the Kannabi bridge mission. Kakashi, whose body is still adapting to his Sharingan, is unable to keep the confident facade due to the inmense pain he's in (I can expand on this in another post if you'd like), so he looks extremely vulnerable and small.

After seeing Kakashi in this state, Rin can't ignore anymore that Kakashi is a kid even younger than herself and inmediately drops her crush.

So now Rin sees Kakashi as more like a little brother, and she decides to look after him. (This comes from what little caracterization we have in canon of her. In the scene where Obito dies, while Kakashi is crying and shaking, Rin inmediately stops crying when Obito asks her to do the transplant, showing her incredible mental strength).

And she takes care of Kakashi not just because she understands how important he was to Obito, but also as a way to cope, in the same selfless (but unhealthy) way she's always known. She needs this, needs to take care of someone vulnerable to help herself. After all, she was really messed up by Konoha and the war, she is still a child soldier who got her obsession with being useful to the village drilled into her head. So she distracts herself from her own grief by helping Kakashi with his, thinking it's what Obito would have wanted, even if it's slowly destroying her.

Because here's the thing, Rin underestimates how important she truly was to Obito and prioritizes Kakashi over her, in the same way Kakashi prioritizes Rin. Neither realizes that both of them were the most important people to Obito.

So in summary, Rin seals her own pain and refuses to cry or show weakness in front of Kakashi (supporting him like she supported Obito) but at the same time she spends most of her time with him with the excuse that she’s helping him with the pain from the Sharingan.

They sometimes sleep in the same hospital bed, hugging and exhausted, and then there can be heard soft sobs and sniffles. But it's impossible to know which one of them is making those noises.

[himasgod]

HOUSEWARDENS X READER

Where you are mute PART 2

How would the housewardens act towards you if you were mute?

kalim, idia, vil and malleus.

Part one with riddle, leona, azul is on my profile <3

Kalim Al-Asim

For Kalim, the fact that you're mute doesn't change how much he enjoys being with you.

If there's anyone who's never had any prejudices about how people communicate, it's him.

From the very beginning, he treats you with the same warmth and enthusiasm as anyone else.

His reaction to learning that you can't speak is more curiosity than concern.

"That's amazing! So how do you communicate? Do you have a special method? Teach me, I want to learn!"

He's not immediately good at sign language because he's a bit slow with memory :( but that doesn't stop him from trying his best.

If you use another method, like writing or using expressions, Kalim adapts quickly because he's already someone who is very guided by emotions and gestures.

Something he loves about you is that, even though you don't speak, you express so much with your eyes and your smile. He finds it beautiful how your face conveys so much without words.

When he's really excited, he forgets that you can't answer him right away and talks nonstop, but as soon as he notices you need a moment to type or respond with signs, he waits patiently with a big smile.

"Oh, sorry! I got too excited again, didn't I? Hehe, it's okay! Take your time, I want to know what you think."

Because he's so expressive, it's easy for you to understand him without him having to say much.

Sometimes just by looking at him, you know exactly what he's feeling, and that makes him even more attached to you.

If someone makes an insensitive comment about your muteness, Kalim flies into a rage. He's not the type to get angry easily, but if someone disrespects you, you can see the serious glint in his eyes as he says,

"Don't ever talk like that again."

Overall, Kalim is the type of person who loves and understands beyond words, and being with you is proof of that.

Idia Shroud

When Idia finds out you're mute, his first thought is like

“Great! I don't have to worry about talking out loud all the time-”

It's not that it bothers him when people talk, but he's someone who hates forced social interactions and finds it stressful to have to respond constantly.

However, when he starts getting closer to you, he realizes something important: it's not that you don't talk, it's that you have a different way of communicating. And that intrigues him more than he thought.

If you use sign language, Idia feels clumsy trying to learn it.

His fingers are fast for games, but when he tries to sign, it feels like he's casting a weird spell with his fingers.

“Ugh, this is harder than learning to program in five different languages…”

But if you use a device to type or communicate in other ways, he feels much more comfortable.

He programs a personalized app that helps you type responses faster, or even a voice synthesizer if you ever need it.

At first, he gets nervous trying to interpret your expressions, but after spending so much time with you, he begins to understand you with just a glance.

"Hey, hey, … in this new game, there's a character who communicates without speaking, just like you! Want to see it? I'm sure you'll love it."

If someone ever makes a hurtful comment about your muteness, Idia first goes pale with fright, then red with fury, and then hacks their devices to play a cruel prank on them

No one messes with his special someone and gets away with it :>

He may not say it out loud, but Idia truly loves how you communicate without words. After all, the best connections don't always require sound.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil has always believed that elegance isn't just about appearance, but also about the way a person communicates and expresses themselves.

When he meets you and discovers you're mute, his first impression is fascination.

“How interesting… You speak without words. It's a unique and beautiful form of expression.”

If you use sign language, Vil learns it without difficulty. He has an excellent memory and is a perfectionist, so he masters it quickly.

If you communicate in other ways, such as with expressions or writing, he watches closely. He becomes adept at interpreting your emotions with just a glance.

He loves the way you convey so much with so little. Sometimes, when others are filling the air with unnecessary words, he looks at you and feels that the connection you have is purer and more genuine than any empty conversation.

When you're in public with him, he doesn't let anyone make you feel inferior for not speaking up.

If someone tries to belittle you, a single glance from him is enough to make them immediately shut up.

“You don't need words to prove your worth. Your presence speaks volumes.”

Malleus Draconia

For Malleus, the fact that you are mute is neither strange nor worrisome.

He himself has spent centuries surrounded by awkward silences and conversations filled with empty formalities.

In comparison, your presence is refreshing.

From the beginning, he takes a genuine interest in how you communicate.

If you use sign language, he learns quickly, and whether you prefer to write or use gestures, he adapts seamlessly.

He isn't someone who needs words to understand you. Over time, he develops a special sensitivity to your body language, to the point where he sometimes asks you something and, before you answer, he already knows the answer just by looking at you.

"You don't need to explain anything. I can see the answer in your eyes."

He loves the reassurance you bring. In a world where people always fear him or treat him with extreme formality, the fact that you can communicate without words gives him a special kind of intimacy he's never experienced before.

When you go for a walk together at night, the silence between you isn't awkward.

Sometimes he simply sits beside you and enjoys the feeling of company without needing to speak.

If anyone dares to belittle you or mock your muteness, his dark presence becomes crushing. Suddenly lightning illuminates the sky man, and his gaze turns icy.

"You dare disrespect someone so precious to me? How insolent."

He's a prince, but to you, he's just Malleus, someone who understands you beyond words.

[corevibeself]

𝒲 𝒽 𝒶 𝓉 𝒟 𝑜 𝒯 𝒽 𝑒 𝓎 𝐿 𝑜 𝓋 𝑒 𝒜 𝒷 𝑜 𝓊 𝓉 𝒴 𝑜 𝓊 ?

ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤　 　﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ ﾟ+*:ꔫ:*﹤　　 ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ 　 ﹥*:ꔫ:*+ﾟ　

Ever wonder what your current or future partner loves about you?

Remember, these are general readings; not all the messages will resonate with some of you. Pick the image you're most drawn to; don't overthink it! <3

𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 1 ♥

I'm getting that this person has never met someone like you before. And like, yeah, obviously—everyone’s unique. But you guys are a bit out of the norm (not in a bad way). I'm getting Aquarius and Gemini vibes, or maybe some Uranus influence in your chart—like having Aquarius as a rising sign. It could even just be in terms of looks—like, you might be the first person they’ve dated who stands out in such a unique and fresh way.

I’m also picking up on this very innocent, childlike energy—just super youthful as a person. You have this sense of wonder about the world, like you’re open and receptive. I see you as an open book emotionally, and your face might be really animated—like, I just saw someone reacting to a surprise with this big, shocked expression. This person finds you incredibly adorable.

For some of you, you might be on the shorter side, or have this cute little baby face, or just something about you that gives off youthful vibes—and they find that so cute. I think sometimes they can’t even take you seriously HAHA. Like, I’m literally seeing you talking about something serious, and they just wanna squish your cheeks. Your relationship might be goofy af, so they never really know when to be serious hahaha XD.

If you’ve got blue or hazel eyes, they’re obsessed. They just think they’re so pretty. I also saw big, round eyes as another feature they adore about you.

There’s this one scenario I saw—you’re trying to do something, and you’re struggling, and they’re trying to help, but you insist you can do it. And they love that. Like, they love seeing you struggle?? HAHAHA Idk, they just find you adorable frll, you guys remind me of bubbles? Idk why I just got the image of bubbles, and now I'm seeing the SpongeBob movie scene where Patrick and SpongeBob are making bubbles in that one scary bar bathroom, If you haven't seen the spongebob movie pls go check out that scene cause its making me giggly, and it just may be kind of your dynamic? But take it as it resonates HAHAHA

Some of you might really love gardening or having plants inside your home. And if you’re the type to talk to your plants and name them, they LOVE that about you. There’s just something about your energy that feels so authentic, cute, and unique. You radiate a softness that makes them feel so comfortable. I'm also seeing if you paint, draw, or create things, if you're just a creative person, they love how shy you get when showing your creations, cause I saw someone with a canvas behind their backabout to show it to their partner, but like you're too shy or you're just hesitant and they love it because they're always surprised by your talent so you might humble yourself a lot and this person is like "why? you're so good!"

They might love massaging you, or maybe you massage them, but someone here has healing hands. Like, your touch genuinely heals them—it makes them feel better. And when you guys are together, they love how it feels like it’s just the two of you. Like that "no one understands us" kind of energy hahaha. They love that.

They also love how you’re always down to try new things with them. You might even be the type to plan surprises for them—again, super youthful vibes. I even thought of pranks as something you guys might do to each other—small teasing, playful energy. They just feel like they can ultimately be themselves with you.

𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 2 ♥

You guys are my intuitive pile—we got the High Priestess up in this bitchhh hahaha. They hate that you know things, but they also LOVE it. You might make this person feel like they can’t hide anything from you. I see them trusting your discerning abilities. You’re so in tune with this person that you just know when they need something. Like, this is the pile where you'll say something to them or get them something, and they’ll just be like, "How did you know I needed this?"

You make this person feel seen because you see into the deeper aspects of people. Some of you might even be witches, practicing the occult, tarot, etc. I’m also being told that some of you doubt your intuition or might be reading this thinking you’re new to all this—or maybe you’re just not even aware of the fact that they view you as so mystical. But they do, and they love this part of you.

Some of you love listening to true crime or are currently studying psychology—they love the insights you give them, the random facts you hear, and the knowledge you’ve gained. They love hearing about it. Again, this person feels seen—they feel like they can be authentic and emotionally vulnerable with you.

Whoever’s got a cat they talk to (or whoever just talks to animals in general)—they love your connection with them. They love seeing you interact with animals. Some of you might be vegan, vegetarian, or thinking about eating less animal products. I’m also getting nature witches here—or if you resonate with collecting stuff from nature, like crystals, I’m also seeing an altar. Okay, they just love your collections, is what I’m getting.

You’re not someone whose mind can be changed easily, or it’s hard to sway you. Like, you don’t let people sway you is what I got. They find that so admirable because I’m really seeing you dedicated to something you’re passionate about. And it’s not just a hobby—it’s like a lifestyle at this point.

Another message I got—you might be someone with a specific routine, like, for example, a morning routine that feels almost like a ritual—but you take it seriously, and they love that about you and the reason they do is that your person just gives me admiration vibes; they admire you, your intelligence, your intuition, your dedication to what you love, and the knowledge you carry.

Some of you even intimidated this person when y’all met—or when you will meet.

𝓟𝓲𝓵𝓮 3 ♥

So y’all are definitely their ideal type in literally every way—LOLLL. Incredibly hot to this person. You’re the person they’ve always wanted and searched for. It’s like they never even realized how bad they had it in past relationships until they met you—because you showed them what a good relationship is.

You nurture this person. They feel emotionally heard and cared for by you, which might be something they hadn’t felt much before. You have literally shifted their entire view on relationships and love. Like, in their mind, you’re it—you’re the last, they’re set on that.

You’re someone who isn’t afraid to speak your truth, and that has changed them—they love that about you. It’s your brutal honesty, guys. You say or do things that make this person realize a lot about themselves—you’re like a catalyst for change. And it doesn’t even have to be anything grandiose—it’s just that you do things this person hasn’t experienced in past relationships, and it’s new to them in a really good way. It’s fresh, it’s intense.

You’re not afraid to grow—in fact, you love growth. You make this person rethink things.

You also give off sensual vibes—it might be that you’re in touch with your body and how you express yourself, and that turns them on hahaha. I honestly don’t think they can see their life without you now that you’re in it.

They also love how you take their side in things—like, let’s say they’re in an argument with someone, you have their back. But at the same time, you’re fair—you’re honest, and if they’re in the wrong, you’re not afraid to say it. They love that you can hold them accountable.

⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᰔ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᰔ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊⊹⊹₊ ˚‧︵‿₊୨ ᰔ ୧₊‿︵‧ ˚ ₊

Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did. <3 I was feeling a bit low energy this weekend, so my next post might be later during the week; I'm thinking next weekend, probably. Thank you for all the support I've been getting, btw, it's been insane. Thank you guys for reflecting such kindness back to me. xxxx

[elfwreck]

This. So much this.

Look. I love my job. I have a great job. My coworkers are talented and friendly; my manager understands my work and runs interference between our team and the people we work with who don't. We have a good benefits package. I work 7-hour days and have both vacation time and substantial sick leave. (For people not in the US: Paid time off is not required by law, except that my state requires up to 5 days a year paid sick leave. My job has a lot more than that.)

We have weekly open video chats on DEI topics. We do a whole month of Black History topics, then Women's History; June will cover Pride topics. And we have other things - chats about what movies we're watching, holiday meal plans, favorite music - it's very much "come hang out with your coworkers, maybe learn something, enjoy each other's company." And that's paid time.

They have a mentorship program that's also awesome. Half-hour a week or so with someone supportive who helps you figure out what you want to do with your career - or just helps you be happier with your life, because the company understands that people who are happy with their jobs (1) are less likely to leave and (2) do better work.

Still.

I am damn well aware that the company does not care about me. I may have actual friends I work with - they don't set company policy. Policies were not created for my benefit; they were created to make the company money.

Some of how the company makes money, is making me comfortable enough to do good work, is making me unwilling to look for a different employer.

But "me being comfortable and happy at work" is not the goal. The goal is corporate profit. My good mood is a side effect.

They'd love all their employees to be happy and comfortable. But if they're facing a choice between profits and happy employees - there is no question which one they'll pick.

And I work for a good company, one that wants us happy, one where there is no petty cruelty in upper management.

When you're at work, don't put your thoughts into "how do I make them value me?" Put your effort into "what can I gain by being here?" Maybe that's just a paycheck and nothing else - in which case, look for skills you can use to find a new job, one where you also get pleasant coworkers and training to get a raise.

Your coworkers may care about you. Your manager may care about you. Never believe the company cares about you.

[prlssprfctn]

A fun little headcannon is that everyone believes Jason to prefer paperback and physical paper but he honestly doesn't care. Maybe it stems from his Robin days reading for hours in the manor library. Or how'd he always tell Bruce to write down the details of the case to solve it faster. Or even that they needed to have physical copies of each file in case the Batcomputer got hacked. It just stuck with Bruce and by extension everyone believes it.

But like he would totally love an eReader with how many books you can fit on it. Audio books are even better because he can listen to them anywhere. The man likes the stories people have to tell. How he consumes it isn't a concern. But of course he has a flare for dramatics so he plays into this misconception.

Steph: Jason, I know you'd prefer a physical book but I got a Kindle that you could use more than me.

Jason who already owns the newest model takes it and chucks it at the floor: Disgusting.

Tim at the Batcomputer: Why do we need to write up a report for Condiment King of all people. Its the third one this month!

Jason: Back in my day we would hand write each and every report.

Dick: No we didn't???

Jason magically pulling out a file cabinet with said case files.

Jason: Honestly we should start doing that again let me go ask Bruce.

Bruce: Honestly if you'd wait five more minutes someone would have come in as backup. You don't need to do everything on your own Hood.

Jason completely ignoring him because he's got books downloaded on his helmet.

Damian next to him knowing what Jason is up to because he did the exact same thing with Ra's.

YES, YES!

i think Jason loves paperback when it is his already favourite books, the ones he knows he loves and wants to annotate and explore — otherwise, he prefers to try books in e-version first. or borrow books from the library if he is in the mood. he strikes me as someone who loves supporting local libraries! plus, listens audio-books on missions and during work-outs, yep, yep.

do other family members have a wrong opinion in that in their minds because Bruce is the "heard my kid mentioning something once, now i think their whole personality evolves around this thing" type of parent sometimes? oh, fucking absolutely. does Jason love to play on the stereotype of "boomer" sibling? yeah— lol.

also, he is a type of kid who would remind the teacher about homework (i think he genuinely cared about this as a kid and didn't understand why everyone got mad, but now he knows WHY, and he will do it EVERYONE'S problem) and combined with him, writing reports on papers, i raise you this:

Bruce, tired by the end of the patrol: Had we discussed everything? Hadn't I forgotten something?

literally everyone but Jason, quickly: no, no, we are fine. ha-ha.

Jason, appearing behind them: well. actually. we all now should write our reports.

Bruce: oh, right.

Jason, smirking: here is mine, by the way. i wrote it while you are all was bickering.

Bruce: so competent! thank you, lad.

Other kids, fuming: -_-

also, the image of Jason blasting audio-books through his helmet is frying me. so, get this:

Dick: Jason is so suspiciously calm for the last few days! like, seriously. proud of him.

Tim: right? it is actually hilarious. Bruce was screaming at him yesterday, and Jason was just staring at him silently, no word, no remark... he was so quiet that Bruce instantly felt bad and apologised. like. master-tecnique. lol.

Jason, who was listening to audio-book all this time, and didn't even hear what Bruce said, just nodded when he started randomly hugging him and murmuring "my baby": whatever.

[madebycloud]

pt 1 | The Devil in Heels

jinx/powder x female reader — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬⠀𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: you dream of becoming a successful journalist, but first, you need experience. landing a job as a personal assistant for the editor-in-chief of riot magazine seems like the perfect opportunity… if only your new boss, the devil herself, didn't make your life a living hell. (or Devil Wears Prada AU that no one asked for) warnings/themes: eventual romance n smut, boss/employee, modern au, fashion & couture, miranda!jinx, andy!reader, pov switch, jinx is mean words: 3.7k — ✩ part one part two, part three, part four, part five, part six, part seven

“To Jobs That Pays The Rent”

“Arcane publication, please,” you mutter to the driver as the taxi takes off.

You're stressed. Late, stressed, and in need of a job. The past few weeks have been nothing but job denials.

The driver glances back through the rearview mirror but keeps his mouth shut. Probably used to stressed people in a rush in the morning.

You look around the city from the backseat of the taxi, grumbling.

Five job interviews. Five job interviews in one month. All five were a disaster.

New York is a wonderful place for people with dreams—like you. Unfortunately, New York loves to eat dreams and spit them out. But you're not going to bend. You're not leaving this city and accepting failure. You didn't work this hard to give up so easily.

The taxi comes to a stop, and you pay the driver hurriedly and then get out quickly, sprinting across the pavement into the high-rise building. You look up at the building, with the words ‘Arcane Publication’ lit up in flashing, neon lettering. 

You walk towards the open doors and reach the desk, giving the person behind the counter a shaky smile. “Uh, I'm here for the interview for Riot Magazine?”

Their eyes never leave their desk. “Take the elevator to the forty-eighth floor. The front desk of Riot will assist you.”

Forty-eighth floor. You thank the front desk person and head towards the elevators.

—

Behind the reception desk is a logo that says ‘Riot.’

You walk over to the desk, taking the card from your pocket. “Hi, I have an appointment with Margot Vyx-” You're interrupted in the middle of your sentence by your name being called.

You turn and see a woman with pale skin and dirty-blonde hair. “Human Resources certainly has a weird sense of humor.” She sighs, her eyes looking you up and down.

You don't respond, shifting uncomfortably.

“Come on, follow me.” She turns, and you follow her down the hallway. “Okay, so... I'm Margot, and I was Jinx's second personal assistant, but her first assistant recently got promoted, so now I'm the first one and-”

“And you're replacing yourself,” you blurt out.

She gives you a dry look over her shoulder. “Essentially, yes.” She continues to walk down the hallway. “Jinx's last two assistants only lasted a couple of weeks,” she states, turning to the left and walking towards a large office area. “I don't know why you applied for a position like this, but we need someone who can—how would you put it... survive here. Do you understand?”

You nod quickly, trying not to stumble over your own feet as you follow her. “Yes. Of course. Who's Jinx?”

Margot whips around to look at you, her eyes wide. She looks like she's seen a ghost. Or an idiot. Probably that second option. “You did not just ask me that,” she murmurs, then shakes her head. “She's the editor-in-chief of Riot Magazine, possibly one of the best in the country. She's a legend.”

You blink. “A legend?”

“A legend,” she repeats. “And if you last longer than a year working for her, you can grab any other job you want. A million girls out there would kill to be in your position right now.”

She sounds serious. “Oh, great.” A million, huh? “I'd love to be considered.”

She opens a glass door and stops, turning to you with a smirk. “You do realize that Riot is a fashion magazine, right? being into fashion is a necessity.”

You frown, confused. “What makes you think I'm not into fashion?” you ask, but she only gives you an unbelieving look.

She opens her mouth to respond, but before she can do so, her phone dings. She pulls the phone out of her pocket and reads the message, and in an instant her expression changes, shifting from arrogance to outright terror.

“Oh my God,” she mutters, sprinting over the telephone. “No. No, no, no-”

“What's wrong?” you ask, taking a hesitant step closer.

She holds up a finger to pause you, grabs the phone, and starts muttering a string of words to whoever's on the other end.

Then, the office door swings open, and a man enters, carrying a box under one arm before setting it down on Margot’s desk. “But I thought she was coming at 9-”

“Her driver text-messaged,” Margot huffs. “Her facialist ruptured a disc.”

He looks you up and down with a raised eyebrow before shrugging and calling down the hallway. “All right, everyone! Man your battle stations!”

The moment those words are said, the whole office goes into a blur.

People who were sitting lazily in their chairs seconds ago are suddenly on their feet, desperately fixing their hair and pulling out lipgloss and mascara to apply frantically in front of their computer monitors.They run around, searching for anything that could be out of place. Empty candy bar wrappers are thrown away in a hurry. Unopened water bottles are shoved into desk drawers. Any stray pieces of gum are disposed of immediately.

What the hell is happening?

—

Jinx steps out of the back of her car, glancing up at the sun. She pulls a pair of black sunglasses off of her face, pushing her hair away from her cheeks.

She's wearing a black, knee-length, fitted dress that hugs her frame, exposing her collarbones with its low-cut V-neck... and all of it is black, black, black. The only pop of color in the whole outfit is the blue of her pumps.

She walks to the building, and the doorman stands straight-backed, opening the doors for her. “Mornin', Miss Jinx—excuse me, Miss Lane. Nice day.”

“Mmhm,” she murmurs, walking into the building.

Jinx has been in a shitty mood since this morning, when her facialist suffered from a sudden case of ruptured discs. That's right. Ruptured. Discs. Apparently, her facials were so good that she gave herself a back injury.

Which meant that she had to wake up early, get dressed, and drive to the office, all with a dry face. No facial. She'll probably go home tonight, throw on a face mask, and watch the first season of Breaking Bad by herself. Or drink. Lots of drinking...

She walks through the halls, heels clicking against the tile flooring. She doesn't bother to look at the employees as she walks past them, and she can hear people scrambling behind her to get out of her way.

Jinx reaches the elevator and presses the button, tapping her foot impatiently as she waits for the doors to open. It arrives, and she steps inside, crossing her arms as the doors close.

It was a pain in the ass finding a good facialist in this city. One that didn't try to talk her ear off about celebrity gossip or have hands like sandbags. One who knew how to keep her mouth shut and had hands that felt like clouds against her skin.

Finding a good facialist in New York is like finding a good man. Impossible.

She groans quietly as the elevator dings on floor 48, where the office of Riot is. She exits the elevator and walks down the hallway towards her office, the doors of her employees' offices lining the hallway.

Margot approaches her, and before she can get out two words, Jinx responds, “I don't understand why it's so difficult to confirm an appointment.”

The blonde hands her the clipboard and then starts stuttering. “I- I'm so sorry, Miss Lane.”

Jinx takes the clipboard, glaring at the paper. “What, did she break both of her legs too?” she says sarcastically, handing the clipboard back to Margot.

Margot doesn't seem to find it funny, biting her lip. She walks next to her, trying to walk at the same pace as Jinx, but she takes longer strides, and Margot has to keep up, otherwise she'll be left behind.

“Tell Jayce that I don't like the girl she sent for the Brazil spread,” Jinx continues. “Cancel those reservations at Cafe D'Sorelle... I don't know why I thought she could be a good restaurant critic for the magazine. Also, tell Scar I'm scheduling a new shoot this week. Oh, and confirm the dinner tonight, the driver knows where to pick Isha up.”

Margot swallows, nodding her head. “Of course, right away.”

Jinx steps into her office, tossing her purse onto the top of Margot's desk and walking past the woman who's sitting on the other side. She sinks down onto her large leather chair and gestures towards the stranger. “Who's that?”

“Nobody-” Margot begins, then pauses, realizing how that sounds. “Uh... I mean, nobody important. Human resources sent her up about the assistant job, and I was sort of pre-interviewing her for you-”

“Don't bother. The last assistants you sent me were absolutely awful. I'm going to have to do it myself. Send her in. That's all.”

Margot stares at her for a few seconds, then nods. “Yes, Miss.”

—

“She wants to see you,” Margot tells you.

You stand up, straightening your clothes and clutching your briefcase tightly. “She does?”

“Yes, move!”

You walk towards the woman's desk, but before that, Margot snatches your briefcase off your hands. “Hey!” you exclaim, “That's mine-”

“This is foul—don't let her see it,” she warns, taking the outdated briefcase and shoving it into the bottom of the desk.

You sigh and take another small step closer to the desk. The woman—Jinx, or whatever—looks up from her desk to stare at you. She eyes you up and down and tilts her head to the side. “Who are you?” she asks, leaning forward in her seat.

Who are you? Not hello there, not hi, not welcome. “Uh-” you hesitate, licking your dry lips. “Well-” You hold your chin high and say your name before placing your resume on her desk. “I recently graduated from The Academy,” you add.

Jinx leans back in her seat, picking up the piece of paper like it was garbage and briefly reading it over. “And what are you doing here?” 

“I think I could do a good job as your-” you start, but her glare cuts you off before you finish your sentence.

She sets the resume down, then picks up the magazine on the edge of her desk and casually flips through it. She doesn't bother to look at you.

Oh god. Not even thirty seconds, and she's already brushing you off.

You continue anyway. “I came to New York to be a journalist. I sent letters to everyone, and I finally got a call from Arcane,” you ramble, the words spilling out of your mouth faster than you can stop them. “So basically it's this or Tough Green-”

“-So you don't read Riot?”

“...no.”

“And before today, you had never heard of me?” she asks, her index finger dragging along the edge of the page, tracing the pictures.

“No.”

“And you have no style or sense of fashion,” she says, then flicks to the next page.

You're caught off guard by the bluntness of the statement. You have to resist the urge to look down at your outfit, but you're dressed fine. You're dressed fine. Well, at least you think you're dressed fine.

“That really depends on-”

“That wasn't a question,” she interrupts, her eyes finally lifting from the magazine to look at you.

Oh.

Alright. So you're no fashionista, but that doesn't mean you're a lost cause. You know, like, basic stuff.

You click your tongue and press forward. “I was the editor-in-chief of the Daily Northwestern. I won a national competition for college journalists with a series on the economic inequality in-”

She cuts you off again, flicking a hand like she's swatting a fly. “That's all,” she says boredly.

That's all?

Damn, now you're starting to understand why her assistants can't take this job. She's got zero patience. Plus, this woman is hard to impress. She's so uninterested. She just dismissed your resume and your qualifications. All of that effort you put into your resume, and she didn't even care.

This could not be, would not be, another failed interview.

You're not going to be working at Dunkin Donuts for the next five years of your life. You are not going to be another college-educated young adult working a minimum wage job. You are not going to be another one of the statistics.

You are good. You are smart. You are qualified.

You're tired of these assholes and their shitty attitudes and their shitty treatment of everyone because they're sitting in this stupid office with their stupid magazines and stupid high heels and shitty attitudes.

Instead of walking out, you step closer to her desk, placing your hands on the edge as you bend forward slightly. “Fine. You're right. I don't really fit in here. I don't know much about fashion, but…”

She raises an eyebrow, and you catch a smirk on her face, but you ignore it.

“But I'm smart, I learn fast, and I will work very hard,” you finish.

She leans forward, mirroring your actions as she sets down the magazine on the desk. “Oh really?” The smirk hasn't faded from her face yet. A good sign? probably not, but you can't back out now.

“Really,” you insist, keeping your voice steady. “Really, really-” you pause when the word fumbles on your tongue, “...really, really, really.”

“That's a lot of reallys,” she remarks.

“I'm serious.”

She stares at you for half a second then leans back in her chair, crossing one leg over the other. “Hm,” is all she says.

You're about to open your mouth to beg, plead, whatever it takes to get the job, when a voice appears behind you.

“We have an emergency.”

You step back and turn around to see the man from earlier.

He must be in his late thirties or early forties, with a slim frame and pale skin. His brown hair is neatly styled, but a couple of strands hang loose and frame his face, falling near his ears. A pair of thin-framed glasses rests at the tip of his nose. In his hand is a large booklet with the word ‘Riot’ written in white letters.

“What is it, Viktor?” Jinx asks, her attention no longer focused on you.

“The printer messed up the spreads again.” He steps over to the desk and places the booklet next to the magazine.

She rubs at the place between her eyes. “Let me see.”

You observe their brief exchange, how he's calm, how she's pissed. No one is looking at you or acknowledging you.

And you just... stand here. Just stood here, like a loser, waiting like some sort of damn dog.

You're not a dog, you're a human being, and you're getting nowhere. Might as well leave. This is... this is hopeless.

—

“Fucking hell.” You slam the apartment door shut as you walk in.

Zeri looks up from her phone, a bowl of chips in her lap. “So no job, huh?” she asks, turning off her phone.

You groan and drop your briefcase on the table. “No job.” You collapse onto the couch next to her, burying your face in your hands.

“It went that badly?” She shifts closer and sets the bowl down on the coffee table.

You sigh and peek through your fingers. “The woman is an absolute bitch. And she didn't even pay attention to the resume! I just stood there like a piece of furniture.”

“Well, if she couldn't see how awesome you are, then she's a moron.”

“Yes, Jinx Lane is a fucking moron.”

Zeri stares at you for a beat. “Wait, Jinx Lane? ...as in the Jinx Lane?”

You pull your hands away from your face. “Is there another Jinx Lane?”

“Well no, but-” She blinks a few times. “Like, that Jinx Lane? Of Riot?”

“Yeah, that's the one."

She grabs your shoulder and shakes you a few times. “Oh my God.”

“What?”

“You met Jinx Lane?!”

“That's her name, right?”

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes-” She lets go of your shoulder and sits up, waving her hands wildly. “Jinx is a legend! You spoke to her! That's the editor-in-chief of Riot!”

You shrug dismissively and sink deeper into the couch. “Who cares?”

Zeri shoves you halfway off the couch, making you sit up. “Who cares!? Who cares?!” she exclaims. “Jinx is an icon. She's the youngest woman to ever become editor, and she's a legend.”

“Icon or not, she's rude.”

“Do you even know who Jinx is?”

“No, I'm still a stupid, uncultured woman.”

“Oh, hush, knock it off.” She nudges you with her foot. “You're not stupid or uncultured.”

“What, I'm just supposed to bow and worship her now?”

“Not that exactly, but,” she starts digging through the couch cushions, “at the very least you should... ah ha!” She takes out a magazine and tosses it, landing on your legs.

“What's that?” You pick up the magazine carefully.

“It's a copy of last month's issue of Riot. I was reading it earlier.” Zeri leans back, throwing her arm over the edge of the couch.

You flip through the glossy pages of the magazine, seeing beautiful models and beautiful clothing. It's not really the kind of thing you're into. You lift it up slightly and ask, “You're giving me a fashion magazine.”

“Not just any fashion magazine,” she says, “Riot. It's where all the big names are. Every model dreams of being in that magazine.”

“...uh huh,” you respond, setting the magazine down. “All over a magazine? really?”

“Shut up.” Zeri points at you. “Listen, I'm about to teach you something, so listen carefully.”

You look down at the magazine again and then back at Zeri. “Fine, fine. Spill.”

She sits up and leans forward, holding the magazine in her lap. “So basically…” she starts. “Jinx is the editor-in-chief of Riot, like I said. The magazine?”

“Yeah, I know what Riot is.”

“Good. Anyway, Jinx got the position from her adoptive father, Silco. She's twenty-two. It makes her the youngest editor-in-chief of a major fashion magazine.”

“Wow…” you mutter sarcastically. “What an accomplishment.”

She ignores your comment and just continues talking. “And she completely changed Riot's image from the boring, stodgy mess it used to be to a fresh, exciting magazine for the new generation,” she says, then pokes your shoulder again. “Which is a huge deal—a lot of people in the fashion industry hated her, because, you know, she's young.”

“So she's young and edgy. Huge deal.”

“Riot was a dying magazine, and Jinx turned it all around in like less than a year. When she first took over, everyone in the industry made fun of her and called her a spoiled kid. They said she'd ruin the magazine. And then she took it from an embarrassment to a money-making goldmine in like ten months-”

“Okay! Okay, I get it already.” You wave your hands in the air, signaling her to stop. “She's a legend of the fashion industry, yada yada. She could probably spit on a page, and fashion editors nationwide would have an aneurysm-”

“-That would totally be a cool trend, wouldn't it?” Zeri interrupts, then smiles at her own statement.

...

“No.”

She shrugs it off, and her smile fades. “But you understand what I'm trying to tell you, right?”

“She's some fashion god who turned a boring magazine into a big thing.”

“She's also incredibly influential and insanely wealthy.”

“Yes, I understand-”

“She's in her early twenties and is a millionaire-”

“Yes, alr-”

“And now, you—a normal and completely unassuming person-”

“-Woah, thanks.”

“An unassuming person,” she continues, “met her. You met the editor-in-chief of a major magazine and probably the most powerful woman in the entire industry-”

“I didn't even get the job,” you remind her.

“But you talked to her, and that's good. That's a good thing.”

“No, it's not-”

“But it is.” She cuts you off. “Even if you didn't get the job, the fact that you had an interview means something. Maybe not the job, but it definitely means something. She saw your resume and probably read it. She saw your face, you spoke words to each other, you shook her hand-”

“I didn't shake her hand-”

“It's the same thing! either way, it's a step in the right direction.”

You're about to retort and tell her that getting ignored in an interview isn't a step in the right direction, but you pause when your phone vibrates.

“Is that your phone?” Zeri asks, and you nod as you pull the phone out of your pocket.

You expect to see a notification from your spam folder. A sale at KFC, perhaps.

You don't expect to see a text.

Zeri grabs your phone before you can read it and begins reading it out loud. “First day-” Her words trail off as she realizes what she's reading, and then her eyes go wide.

“What?” you pry. “What is it?”

“...you got the job.”

You snatch your phone back from her. “I what?”

“You. Got. The job,” she repeats, slower this time.

You blink, reading the text. “I got the job?”

“Yes.”

This can't be right. You were just here, ranting about this woman and how horrible she was and how she didn't even give you the time of day.

And now you have the job.

“Holy shit,” you murmur, clutching your phone tighter. “Holy shit. I got the job.”

“You're working for Jinx Lane.”

There's a long pause, and then you nod. “I'm working for Jinx Lane.”

“Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god-” she squeals.

“Calm down,” you try to tell her, but she barely listens as she throws her arms around your shoulders and begins bouncing up and down.

“Oh my God-” she continues squealing as she squeezes you tight, making it difficult to breathe.

“Z, I can't—you're suffocating me-”

“Can you believe it?” she squeezes even tighter. “You're working for Riot. You're working under Jinx!”

Zeri is ecstatic, and rightfully so. This is a good job, a great opportunity. Even if it involved working under someone like Jinx Lane.

You force a smile and force your brain to pump out some sort of excitement, but it feels wrong. This could be an amazing opportunity… but it could also be the most miserable experience of your life.

“Yeah... great,” you mutter, patting her awkwardly on the back when she finally relaxes.

The next few months are going to be hell. This job better pay for your therapy sessions.

[jayden-killer]

Don't let me go. ‹𝟹

Eddie pushes away his need of affection. That is, until he meets you.

warnings: ig angst to fluff(?), reader is fem bc yes, al munson mention lmao.

Eddie needed affection.

Having someone cuddling him is what he has always wanted; however, never admitted, especially since his mother passed away. He doesn’t need a maternal figure, far from it. Growing up, this need is repressed over time, inculcating this idea that it is not necessary because he can live without it. Yet this desire resurfaces in front of couples who embrace, holding hands, sharing their personal space. After all, he doesn’t need it.

He’s a freak.

Who would ever want to be next to a freak? A person who will never succeed in life? Who may end up like his father?

He cannot cope with the discomfort in his heart, so he tries to repress it once again.

And again.

And again.

And again.

That was his belief until he met you. It wasn’t a chance meeting at all. One of his teachers had said that he needed a tutor. His school grades were not stable, not to mention the poor attention he paid to almost every class. He would never have expected his tutor to be the most beautiful, kind person in the world.

Date after date, you have opened to each other, sharing a comfortable silence.

Your relationship started after 4 months of seeing each other; everything was going well. One of those days, Eddie thought it would be nice to invite you into his trailer, stating that his uncle would come back late to catch up on some overdue hours.

So you found yourself in the heat, on his poorly groomed sofa, focused on the vision of the musical The Rocky Horror Picture Show. One of Eddie’s favourite movies.

"Love?"

"Mh?"

"Do you really...wanna hold my hand?"

His girlfriend’s eyes were confused. "Why would I be bothered by it, Teddy?"

Teddy. God, he loved her when he called him that.

Eddie met her eyes and thought for a moment to lie, but... did it make sense? Was it really worth lying? What if she knew about it? She knew that her beloved had a good intuition. He also knew that women did not miss anything and would not get away with it easily.

So, with a deep sigh, he played with his girlfriend’s fingers and confessed everything. His feeling of repulsion towards love, of inequality, how he had always tried to fool him and how he was not...worthy.

"Eddie..." The girl’s fingers squeezed more of hers. "I must admit, I suspected it."

Eddie raised his eyebrows. Good sense, indeed. "How?" he asked.

She shrugged her shoulders. "You weren’t very convinced when I hugged you in public on certain occasions or when I kissed you on the stairs of the school. You looked... tense. I knew something was wrong."

On Eddie passed a feeling of shame.

What a shithead, he began to think.

"And I understand how you feel. Sometimes it happens to me too, and it will definitely never be the same feeling as yours, but..." The girl caressed his cheek, gently swiping her thumb up and down, "you have to start believing it. Also, you don’t really believe all that crap going around about you? Unsubstantiated bullshit by ignorant people?" They both chuckled.

"Right," said Eddie, still smiling. "Maybe I just have to believe it a little bit more." He paused, this time stroking her cheek. " I have to work on it. It won’t happen immediately, but...with time"

"With time," she repeated. She silently got closer to him, as if she wanted to kiss him, but fearing that she might bother him. Eddie appreciated the gesture.

"You mustn’t think it bothers me. I love it. I love to feel your lips on mine." He gave her a quick kiss and took her cheeks in his hands.

Eddie memorized every detail of her wonderful face, with red cheeks and eyes that conveyed security and love. "Okay?"

She nodded, smiling. "Okay. I’ll be by your side the whole time. If you ever need to talk about it again, you know I’m here for that."

"I know, baby. I know. I don’t know how to thank you yet."

She rolled her eyes playfully. "10 dollars an hour for each psychological counseling."

Eddie threw his hands in the air. "This is a burglary without a gun! I’m already broke, then you go too!"

The two spent the evening laughing, enjoying the movie, and Eddie seemed to have a lighter weight on his shoulders. At least for now.

☆

taglist: @justalotoffanfiction

[le-panda-chocovore]

That's the thing with abusive and manipulative people. Most of them don't do it on purpose. Which is why it is so hard for their victims to leave even when they realize this situation is hurting them, because they know this person never meant to hurt them.

I met a lot of manipulators in my life, including my parents, and let me tell you I don't think they ever left a conversation with me thinking "Hahaha I really got her with my guilt-trap ! Now she's going to feel so bad and I can keep using her for my own profits !" How am I supposed to "just leave and cut off all contacts" when I know they love me ? When I finally told my mom after 8 years that the comments she made on my body made me so self-conscious that I started to hate myself, she cried. She said she had no idea. When I told my dad that he always talks to me like I'm a disappointing trash and it hurts, he was surprised that I felt that way. He didn't understand why. They're not unapologetic evil people who made my life a living hell on purpose. Most people aren't mean and cruel on purpose.

I spent most of my life saying that Toxic People don't exist and no one is inherently Evil, because most toxic behaviors are miscommunication and assumptions. Most people hurt you because they don't realize you don't feel and think the same way they do, because they don't realize you're not in their head and cannot guess the reasons of their words and actions. Then someone pointed out to me that some people do enjoy hurting others, some people don't feel bad at all when they learn they were mean and will do it again without hesitation. So yeah, perhaps those people are cruel, but they're not everyone.

I don't think my parents ever made me cry on purpose. Still, they broke me and I'm still picking up the pieces.

otherwise interesting post ruined by the bold insistence that you can never accidentally abuse someone & that all abusive people are self-aware evil masterminds

[himasgod]

Hiii!!! I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if you could do some housewardens with a mute reader?

If that violates your boundaries please just ignore!

Good day/night! <3

HOUSEWARDENS X READER

Where you are mute PART 1

How would the housewardens act towards you if you were mute?

riddle, leona, azul.

Part two with kalim, vil, idia, and malleus will be posted in an hour on my profile <3

Riddle Rosehearts

At first, when he discovers you're mute, he's a little nervous. Not because it bothers him, but because he doesn't know if he'll be able to communicate with you properly.

Riddle is used to expressing himself directly and within strict rules, so having to adapt to a new form of communication is a challenge for him.

He asks Trey and other students if they know anything about sign language, and he even does his own research at the library.

If you use sign language, he'll do his best to learn it, even if he gets a little frustrated at first if he doesn't fully understand it.

One thing that surprises him (and secretly pleases him) is that you communicate a lot with expressions and gestures. When you give him a disapproving look because he's stressed or offer him tea with a smile, he feels a warmth in his chest.

"You don't need to say anything. I understand what you mean just by looking at you."

If someone makes fun of you for being mute, you can bet Riddle will punish them with a magic collar right then and there. No one has the right to disrespect you with him around.

Leona Kingscholar

Leona, far from finding it strange that you're mute, sees it as a relief.

It's not that se doesn't like conversations, but he hates unnecessary and noisy chatter. The fact that you can communicate without speaking seems convenient to him.

At first, he doesn't make an active effort to learn sign language, but over time he realizes that he does it unconsciously.

Little by little, he picks up on the gestures you use to express yourself and ends up understanding you without difficulty.

"Hah, you don't have to speak to understand what you want, herbivore. Your face says it all."

One thing he likes is how you can express yourself without words, especially when you stroke his hair when he's lying on your lap. It's one of the few moments when he completely relaxes.

If someone tries to take advantage of your condition, Leona glares or shoos them away with a low growl.

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is a natural talker, so at first he wonders how he's going to negotiate with you if you can't respond with words.

However, he's so intrigued by the way you express yourself that he finds ways to adapt.

He learns sign language quickly. He has an excellent memory, so he works hard to memorize every sign you use.

Plus, he sees it as a competitive advantage, in case he ever has a mute customer at Mostro Lounge.

He offers you a contract to provide you with a temporary voice, but when you decline his offer (with a calm smile), he's taken aback. He's amazed by your self-confidence.

Over time, he realizes you don't need a voice to assert yourself, and that impresses him even more.

If someone underestimates you for not being able to speak, Azul intercedes with sharp and manipulative words, maybe asking Jade and Floyd for help to ruin their life basically.

No one will look down on his loved.

[shouyuus]

RAAAIIIN I'm zooming in for your drabble from a prompt + character post, but please ignore it if it doesn't spark joy/you already have too many to work on!! 💗

"a story in reverse" + itoshi rin

send me one + a character and i'll write you a drabble

─── 凛 A STORY IN REVERSE

itoshi rin; sfw, angst; divorce, unhappy marriage, magical realism

day 376.

"it was never supposed to be like this," rin says. there's a fist the size of a human heart squeezing inside his chest.

you take a breath, smile a smile that looks like forgiveness (or worse -- understanding).

"yes, rin -- it was."

day 365.

"i'd like a divorce."

rin blinks at you, the words sliding off his skin like water off a duck's back, his comprehension of them tenuous at best. he opens his mouth; no words come out.

you let out a sigh that sounds much too heavy to be echoing out of a body like yours and drop the papers on the dining room table.

"just... look them over and sign them, okay?"

rin sighs, setting down the flowers on the table next to the papers. you stare at them and the card clipped to the ribbon printed with the loopy words -- happy anniversary.

day 291.

"you stopped trying --"

"no, i didn't --"

"yes, you did -- you're never around -- god you're like your brother -- is that it? you wanna be him so bad that you're ghosting your family too?"

you bite your lip as the air suctions out of the room, and suddenly, the bedroom is a vacuum, and rin's open suitcase a canyon too deep and dark to cross.

rin's mouth thins, his fingers like pale daggers as he reaches for a shirt he'd just set on the bed. with slow, methodical movements, he picks it back up and places it back into the suitcase.

you pick at a hangnail on your right hand, wincing as a bead of blood wells up against the skin.

"rin, wait --"

the lock on his suitcase clicks.

day 218

"i miss you."

"i know, i miss you too."

you sigh, stifling a yawn as you watch rin tug on his soccer jersey.

"gotta go, we're starting soon."

you swallow passed the torrent of words pressing up against the back of your tongue.

"sure. yeah."

rin sighs, "i'll call you after."

you glance at the clock, "i'll be asleep."

he makes a vaguely impatient noise. distantly, you can hear someone speaking to him as he glances off screen with a nod.

"fine, i'll --" he pauses, "message me when you're up then."

you nod, pursing your lips around the words -- then you'll be asleep.

"sure, yeah," you say again, feeling the a dark, cold pit coalesce in your stomach. "good luck at your game."

at this, rin scoffs, a lopsided smirk tugging at his lips, the light in his eyes sharpening to something like lust.

"don't need it, but thanks anyway."

day 182.

"i thought you understood --"

"and i thought we mattered more to you --"

"we do but i told you -- soccer's always --" he cuts off.

you sigh, crossing your arms, "right, right."

a moment passes, and then, both of you soften at the exact same time.

"i'll try harder to be --"

"i'm sorry, i just miss --"

you both pause, caught a word before the end of your sentences, eyes wide, mouths open.

another beat, before both of you fall into a fit of helpless laughter. he reaches for you; you fall into him. his fingers in your hair, your arms around his waist.

"i'll try harder to be around."

"yeah," you say, nuzzling into his neck, feeling the warmth of him expanding in your chest as your body settles in next to his, "i know."

day 141.

"what do you want for breakfast?"

"mm... something with sea bream."

you laugh, glancing over your shoulder, "we do have leftover rice from yesterday -- i can make ochazuke --"

rin grins, looking up from the sofa, his eyes like seaglass in the crystaline light.

"that sounds amazing."

day 112.

"where do you wanna go for our first trip?"

"first?" rin blinks, "we've been on tons of trips before."

you roll your eyes, grinning, "yeah, but not as a married couple." you exaggerate your pronunciation and he cocks his head.

"how does that change anything?"

you pause, staring. then, you let out a tiny laugh, "nevermind -- but i still wanna go on a trip."

"yeah. we can do that."

day 100.

"sorry i couldn't be there for our 100 days."

you shake your head, running a finger along the petals of the flower bouquet sitting on your table.

"no, it's okay -- i know being a professional athlete means you have to travel a lot," a pause as you lean forward to press your nose in to the flowers, their sweetness filling in your lungs. you pull back and glance back at the phone screen, to rin's face, his rumpled hair -- it's nighttime where he is, and probably way passed his bedtime.

"i do miss you though," you admit.

"yeah. i know. i miss you too."

day 88.

"i didn't know i could love someone as much as this before i met you."

you turn towards rin in the rising dark, his face is cast up towards the ceiling of your shared bedroom. you twist to loop your arm around his middle.

"yeah? i thought no one could ever compare to your love of soccer," you tease.

rin hums, "i don't know. i... didn't used to think so. sometimes, i still don't but... i'm not as sure as i used to be."

you nod, "it's okay, we've got forever to try and figure this out."

day 47.

"itoshi-senshuu -- how is it being a married man?"

rin stares at the reporter for a long second before he answers --

"being married doesn't make me a better or worse player. but... family is important."

the reporter lets out a nervous laugh, "yes... that's true, but that wasn't -- anyway -- thank you for your amazing performance today."

day 31.

"where do you see us in 10 years?"

rin shrugs, "like this, but older."

you laugh, letting your head fall back onto his shoulder as the pair of you cuddle on the couch.

"yeah? you don't think we'll be those like... estranged older married couples who sleep in different rooms?"

rin frowns, his eyes flashing with a midnight dark.

"no. i don't."

you giggle, "yeah, you're right," you say, spinning the ring on your finger, admiring the way it catches the light, "we've both just gotta work to make sure that never happens, right?"

rin drops a soft kiss to your shoulder.

"yeah, right."

day 1

"and do you take this man, itoshi rin, as your lawfully wedded husband?"

rin blinks at you from across the walkway; there are white flowers braided into your hair and your lashes are gemmed in tears -- the most beautiful person he's ever seen.

you smile, nod, and lean forward, even before the officiate says so, and say --

"yes -- gods yes -- i do."

day -8,766

there's always been a wood beyond the protective glow of the back porch's lone, luminous light, the darkness lingering and skittering, trailing in the shadows of the great lunar moths that fluttered against the windows in the summer.

rin knew he was never to go into the woods alone.

"there's a fairytale 'bout a well in the woods that grants wishes if you toss in a really round river stone."

sae's voice makes rin swivel around. he frowns at his older brother, head lilting to one side.

"how'dyou know?"

sae only stares. "cause i've done it."

"does it work?" rin's eyes are ocean-wide and just as clear. sae turns away.

"dunno, but you've gotta give something up in return if you make a big wish."

"oh."

"why? what would you wish for?"

rin turns with a big, childish smile, "to beat you at soccer one day!"

sae scoffs, "dumb dumb -- what're you gonna give up in return for that, huh?"

rin shrugs, "dunno... but... whatever it is, it can't be better than soccer!"

at this, sae laughs, reaching over to poke at rin's forehead with a single finger. rin giggles, peering up at sae with round cheeks the color of ripe peaches.

"what... what did you wish for?"

sae's grin sharpens as a patch of cloud shifts away from the surface of the moon and light pours down onto the back porch, illuminating the planes and ridges of his face, gleaming in the dark turquoise of his eyes.

"to be the best soccer player in the world one day."

rin licks his lips, "and... what did you give up?"

sae turns away as the cloud shifts back, tossing his face into a curtain of shadow.

"the person i love the most."

rin swallows, frowning. he scuffs his feet against he old wood of the porch top and wonders who that might be. he huffs out a breath, turns to face sae with a determined look on his face, the lines carved there far too deep for someone his age.

he jabs a thumb into his chest as he says --

"fine, then that's what i'm gonna give up too!"

[lindwurmkai]

I just realised something after reading the comments on this post and recalling my own feelings in 8th grade or whenever we first started doing literary analysis. The point about drugs is very important, but I want to talk about the general "what if the author didn't mean anything by it" attitude for a moment.

I think that, for a lot of people, and especially for autistic people who are of course also the most likely to struggle with literary analysis to begin with, the sometimes oddly passionate refusal to participate in analysis is actually about a fear of having their own art misunderstood. Or even just misplaced empathy for a hypothetical author whose art is being misunderstood.

I remember being absolutely crawling-out-of-my-skin offended on the behalf of some long dead author because what if they didn't mean that? How could the teacher be 100% sure? How could we be so disrespectful as to put words in their mouth? What if I wrote a story and someone did that to me??? I was going to show them! I'd write a story in which nothing symbolised anything and if anyone dared to claim it did, I'd triumphantly let them know they were wrong! THEN they'd understand they were being disrespectful and needed to stop doing that.

But these feelings came from being misunderstood in my personal life. I had no idea that most writers actually a) did put symbolism into their art on purpose, b) had no problem with alternative interpretations and c) were reasonably educated on literary traditions instead of just kinda writing off the top of their heads.

If any of my teachers had explained that, I wouldn't have been frustrated to the point of tears because HOW COULD WE POSSIBLY KNOW OMG I'D HATE IF SOMEONE DID THAT TO ME.

I also wish my teachers had explained that "literary fiction" was a whole separate category from the genre fiction I was reading in my free time, and that it was kinda known for being especially full of symbolism. That certainly would have helped.

There is at least one person in the notes complaining that they're tired of having their poetry misinterpreted - especially when people assign meaning to specific parts that they only included as "filler" or because it rhymed. Now, you might say that only an amateur poet who hasn't formally studied the craft would be concerned about that, and that a real poet would simply consider it evidence that they're not very good yet because the goal is to no longer rely on "filler" phrases one day and to be able to change the format to fit the content of the poem instead of including irrelevant details just for the rhyme. But that's not really fair. Not every artist wants to follow tradition and art that "breaks the rules" by deliberately including fluff is still worth something. It can even be good, depending on your metrics. Besides, amateurs who haven't fully grasped how the craft they're dabbling in "normally" works deserve better criticism than "you're doing this wrong."

So I don't think the "what if the curtains are just blue" attitude is all anti-intellectualism per se, although it can easily become that. If you're trying to convince someone of the value of literary analysis, consider finding out if their resistance is coming from a place of, "But I wouldn't want people to do that to my art. :(" And no, the correct response to that is not, "Well suck it up or stop making art then because people are going to read things into it that you didn't intend whether you like it or not!"

It's hard to sum up what might help because it depends on the person, their age, and which information they're missing. But the first step is to take their feelings seriously because they're probably coming from a place of having been misunderstood a lot in non-art contexts.

[brujaluas]

Things people have said about you that you never knew

Hello my dears, how are you? I hope you're doing well! I have a lot of ideas for readings thanks to you, thank you very much! But I decided to do this one first, because as soon as I picked up the gypsy deck this question came to mind, I hope you enjoy reading it, and remember that nothing you read here, nothing that people say is really you, the only person who knows you is yourself, don't let yourself be affected by other people's comments from sour people… what matters is what YOU think of yourself! This reading is just a peek for curious people

Pile 1

People said a lot of things, two phrases were said here specifically "I think they'll have children early" but said in a rude and disdainful way, you know? like, "look so young and irresponsible with a child already", especially if you who chose this pile are a woman, it seems that the people around you are more cruel to women (society being society), there is an additional burden if you are a woman, "look at a child in her belly", another phrase is something like "she will die alone", "she will always be lonely", people see a lot of an image of detachment on you, as if you didn't want to be anywhere with anyone.

Pile 2

I heard the phrase "they are very easily fooled" and I found it intriguing, some say "they really are good friends", "they are good company", but many people say that you are easily fooled, easily made a fool of and manipulated by others, some find it funny, as if you were a clown, it's like "this person is disgusting, how can they not see that?", some think you are fake, another thing that happens here is that you may have been or are hanging out with very dubious people, with questionable character, and their reputation ends up splashing on you. Look at who you hang out with and share your life with, you know the spirituality of that ear pulling.

Pile 3

Okay, let's go. my dears! say a prayer, a spiritual cleansing bath, something like that. People can be such jealous bastards, sorry for the insult, I don't usually swear here in the readings but this time I'm going to make an exception, people are bitter here because of a romantic relationship of theirs. I heard "you're only getting married because you're pregnant" Some might think that you would be capable of tying someone to you through children??? I don't know very well, but your relationship with your children (or future children) is something that people very much focus on, and your romantic relationship too, it's not very clear to me so I apologize if it's a little difficult to understand, but there are also some who have a lot of opinions about your marriage and your children.

[captain-huggy-bear]

Big requests/full fic/big idea requests are closed at the moment but drabble and prompt requests are still open. Writing Masterlist

You're shoving rolls of socks and various coloured and patterned ties into his roadie bag when he finds you. Ties that he's never seen before, socks that he knows weren't anywhere near his roadie bag. There's a sort of intent, focused look on your face like this has a level of importance that he couldn't possibly understand.

"Baby, what are you doing?" You look up briefly, only enough to see him leaning against the door frame, sweatpants slung low on his hips, hood of his hoodie thrown up over his head. No fucking socks. Like that man has an aversion to them...which is fine, you tell yourself, it's fine in the house, it's fine on a beach, it's not fine in his goddamn shoes when he's wearing a suit.

"Your packing."

"I'm already packed..." He's certain he got everything done, his suit is hanging up ready to go in its dry cleaning bag, his toiletries the only things left to collect in the morning.

"Clay, 1 tie and no socks is not packing." You roll your eyes at him and it's in that moment that he fully grasps that you're annoyed about it, that somehow his singular tie has irritated you. You, who put up with the long weeks away, the late nights, the schedule that interferes with family events and plans.

"Why do I need more than 1 tie?"

"Because variety is the spice of life and if I see one more picture of you in the same grey suit with the same blue tie I am going to burn that tie." You have such a tight grip on the blue tie in question that Clay briefly wonders if you'll burn it anyway, a level of animosity for a piece of clothing he's never seen before.

"Okay, okay, fine...multiple ties, baby, but the socks?" He's closing the gap between you, pocking at the pile of socks you've put in his bag, more than enough, maybe even too many for the 5 game roadie he's going on.

"You need to wear socks with a suit, I swear to God, Clayton" You snatch back a pair of socks he's pulled from the bag, shoving them back into place like he might be undoing all your hard work.

"Why?" He feels a little stupid asking, like a little boy, but he doesn't get it. Plenty of the guys don't wear socks when they wear a suit, they're wearing sneakers most of the time, it's not really a necessity. Just more things to take on a trip when he wanted to take the bare minimum.

"Clay, it's just...you just have to." You don't know how to explain that socks were just something you wore with a suit, that his ankles needed to be covered. Mostly because you felt like you were starting to sound like a Victorian gentleman obsessed with someone's ankles.

"But..." He stops at the way you breathe out a big sigh. He can tell you're trying to not be irrationally irritated or angry, that you're trying to explain and make him understand why it bothers you without being rude about it.

"Clay, do you want to marry me one day?"

"Of course I do, baby." He's reaching for you like the question itself draws him to you, to hold you, to be reassured that you're still there with him. Clay's hands falling to your hips as he rounds the bed, fingers pressing into you to make sure you're not going anywhere.

"Then you need to wear socks with your suits because if I turn up at that aisle and you're not? I'm rescheduling." Your tone is lighter now, more joking and it eases some of the tension in his shoulders as he starts to form a smile. Socks seeming like a small price to pay for you.

"Not running to Tasmania or something?"

"No, rescheduling until you put on some socks." You're joking, but you also mean it. You can't explain why it matters so much that he wears socks with his suits, just that it does...a little detail that feels like it's vital even though in reality it's really not.

"Okay...socks with the suit, got it."

"I'm doing this because I love you."

He sighs heavily even as he's grinning down at you and the way you wrap your arms around his neck, "I love you too, baby."