#it's like i have to learn to be human academically and every time i have human interaction to anyone outside of my immediate family is

[just-another-obsessed-fangirl]

yall ever cry from how lonely you are? :(

[andejoe]

No one wanted to ask. Someone had to. It was terrifying. But it made sense.

Of course humanity finally abandoned its planet. Everyone was surprised they hadn’t abandoned it sooner. Still, the concern was there.

What made humanity abandon their planet in a mass event? What thing was finally found to scare them off their favorite death world?

Of course not every last human abandoned the planet, but enough did that Earth was no longer considered ‘inhabited’. Humans flocked to other worlds, most choosing death worlds with similar biomes to the ones they preferred. (And there was a suspiciously armored ship heading towards Disney planet.)

The concerning thing was the humans kept going back. Never landing. Never breaking the atmosphere. Just driving by.

Finally, a delegate was chosen to ask the human council member. Poor Laeri was nervous, but they had been called friend by council member Daryl before. Surely this question wouldn’t be an offense.

“Daryl, may I speak with you a moment?”

Daryl paused, and nodded, careful not to smile. He was well practiced in the art of not offending. “Of course Laeri. What is the matter?”

“Humanity has recently applied for habitation permits for a dozen planets. As soon as the permits were awarded, humans left very quickly.”

“Well sure. The permits took three earth years to be approved. Most of the planet had been preparing for over five years at that point,” Daryl explained.

“Yes, that is not my question. The question is why?”

“Why were they ready?”

Laeri shook their head. “Why did they leave Earth? Humans have made it a point to ‘stick it out’ despite better options being available. Why leave now?”

“Oh, that. Well.” Daryl paused. He knew he didn’t have to report officially yet, but his friend wanted to know. “Will you keep it a secret from the council?”

Laeri paused. The answer being a secret did not occur to them. What could the humans possibly be hiding? Would they be able to hide it as well?

“I do not think I can keep any dangerous thing a secret,” Laeri finally admitted.

Daryl nodded. “Nor would I ask you to. It’s not dangerous, just a little experiment more like.”

“If it is an experiment, then you should speak with-“

“No Laeri.” Daryl interrupted calmly. “This isn’t something we want help with. That’s why we haven’t mentioned anything to the Viyon Academics. We just need time to see if it works.”

Their curiosity finally got the better of them.

“If what works?”

“A new society. A new civilized species.”

Laeri didn’t speak, but either from awe or concern, they weren’t sure. Daryl continued.

“We believe a species evolves when they start to take care of their injured and impaired. It means they have compassion. Well an intelligent species on earth has been observed showing compassion. We simply want to give them the space they require to evolve.”

Laeri considered the intelligent species that lived on earth. They were suddenly very concerned. Had the humans been duped?

“The dolphi are showing compassion?” Laeri asked.

Daryl almost laughed. “Not even close. No, we wouldn’t break the agreement we made. They’re not escaping earth anytime soon.”

Laeri felt immediate relief. “Then which species is it?”

Daryl smiled. He couldn’t help it. He liked birds. “Corvids.”

“But, but they’re so small.”

“We know. That’s why some humans are still there, zoologist types to help them grow, learn, and show them the way.”

“What if another species wipes them out before they get the chance?”

Daryl shrugged. “Well that’s why we left some warriors behind, to help keep the corvids alive while they grow. And of course to keep the dolphins contained. We do take that assignment very seriously.”

Laeri was excited now. Another avian species may be joining the galaxy soon. They wanted to tell everyone.

“Promise you’ll keep the secret?” Daryl asked.

Laeri felt their excitement dash upon the cruel rocks of reality. “I will.”

“Good. Here.” Daryl held out a small computer drive.

Laeri took the drive. “What is this?”

“The live feed of the experiment. You really think we wouldn’t watch? As soon as they reach civilized status, I have to report them. Until then, they’ve been completing some very complex puzzles and problem solving lately. You’ll want to start at the beginning but they post new information all the time.”

Laeri clutched the drive to their feathered tunic. Suddenly the small drive was priceless. “I, must go now.”

Laeri took off as fast as would be ignored by others. Daryl watched his friend, surprised by how excited they were. His watch gave him an alert.

“Ooh, a group puzzle. Wonder if they managed it this time.”

Daryl walked off to his own private quarters to watch the newest update on the corvids.

[httpknjoon]

satellite | jjk

plot | Your friend, Jungkook, offers to help you while you review for your human anatomy exam.

w.c | 3K

genre | fluff, slight angst, fwb (but nothing 18+ happened)

pairing | jungkook x medstudent!reader

note | written from my own swamp of academic-related activities

main masterlist | playlist

JK

u up?

You

yep

i'm studying

exams tomorrow

JK

:(

can i come over

You

yes but don't be a distraction

JK

u know i can't help it 😪

You

🙄

i'm busy stop texting me

JK

will be there in five

You

door's open no need to knock

JK

see u 😉

Maybe you should have just pursued a course in creative writing... Or maybe culinary arts. Maybe something connected with baking. You love baking, right?

Maybe if you picked a college program based on your hobbies, you have better sleep. Maybe you are happier. At 11:51 PM, maybe you are already sleeping soundly on your bed, next to your emotional support stuffed toy, with your favorite weighted blanket on your exhausted being.

But you didn't. You can't.

So here you are, sitting in a swamp of written notes, books, and colorful post-its (that you haven't found any helpful use yet), having a crisis over your career choices.

"You want this, YN." you remind yourself, shaking your head.

Your digital clock on your study desk just ticked the time to 11:52 PM. It has been almost three hours since you began your planned all-nighter for tomorrow's exam.

"I want to cry." you sighed, your forehead softly hitting your desk. "But I don't have the time for that."

Groaning, you opened one of the textbooks you borrowed from the library. You tried to process every word you came across. But considering that you went straight from your eight-hour shift from your part-time job, you only managed to comprehend half of the sentences you read.

"I wish I was born as a nepo-baby."

Another random thought rolled off your tongue instead of understanding where the hell the spine of the scapula is. Admittedly, you find it hard to locate the muscles in the human body when you only have a 2D version of it. But you don't have those 3D models that can help you to learn and remember better, so you will settle for pointing your index fingers at flat images on the book pages.

"Trapezius... Acromion... Deltoid..."

Reciting the muscles in the familiar tune of "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star", you began pointing to certain areas of your body. It was one of the studying techniques you have been using since you were younger. So far, it's helping. You keep doing it for the other parts.

"Subscapularis..."

But the longer you sang, the words slowly rambled in your tongue and your eyelids got heavier. You were so close to drifting away until you heard the familiar click of your door. Your head snapped up instantly. You hear his voice greeting your roommate who's probably watching her favorite show in the living room.

"Pizza and ice cream. Want some?" you heard him offer.

He brought food?! Of course, he did. He's Jungkook. For the first time since you sat in front of your study desk, a smile formed on your lips. Shaking your head, you just read your notes again. It didn't take long for your bedroom door to open. The scent of a freshly baked pizza filled every corner of your room. And there, you see him coming in with a smile on his pierced lips.

"Oh, hello, gorgeous."

Jungkook was surprised to see you already looking at him when he entered your room. Usually, he would find your nose dipped between your textbooks when he visits during your study sessions.

You rolled your eyes at the nickname, "I know, I looked like a mess right now. Just give me my prized pizza and ice cream please."

He laughed, not because he agreed with you, but because you are always quick to turn down his micro-flirting. He sometimes thinks that it keeps him grounded.

"And you got the coffee ones! This is why you're my favorite hookup buddy." you quipped before kissing his cheek, elated by the ice cream he got you.

"I'm honored. Thank you." he replied, before getting a slice of pizza.

Both of you know that you don't have any other hookup buddy. You're not that adventurous. It's just something you joke about.

"How's the studying going?" he asked before sitting on your bed.

"Shit." you shake your head, tired. "But this ice cream makes me feel a little better."

Jungkook smiled at that. He listened as you went on telling him about something that happened in your shift earlier today. But he ended up studying you. Because contrary to what you said earlier, you are too pretty, he finds it distracting. You were tired, it's written on your face. But the way your eyes light up as you share your story makes your face glow. With your desk lamp being the only light in your room, it perfectly highlights the small smile on your lips after you take another spoonful of the cold dessert.

"Why did you come here anyway?"

Your sudden question snaps Jungkook out of his daze. He cleared his throat.

"I-I'm bored and you're up."

He was not bored. In fact, he missed a party he was invited to tonight because it has been four days since he last saw you. He was busy with his training and practice, while you were working two jobs and studying. You two were just texting each other these days and with how rare you reply during the daytime, he knew that tonight is probably the best time to see you.

You sigh, "I told you, I'm studying for tomorrow. I can't do anything with you right now."

"And I didn't say we have to do anything. I'm just happy to be here. I'm like little Bear right there." he replied, pointing to your stuffed toy who was sitting next to him.

"Okay, I'll go back to studying. Is that okay?" you asked, putting on the lid of your half-finished ice cream.

He winked, "Of course."

Jungkook is that person you probably know for too long. Like, someone you should have met only once or twice or occasionally. Not like this, in which you see each other almost every day.

When Liz, your roommate, introduced you two to each other during some Halloween party, in which you came as Dorothy from The Wizards of Oz and he was Peter Pan, you did not expect to start any kind of connection with him. You remembered thinking to yourself how exhausting it was to have him around with how he seemed so full of energy, not knowing then that he also enjoyed the same little things you did. You two became real friends after bumping into one another in a record store an hour away from your uni.

Because you feel that you two always stood on opposite ends of any scale. You were a reserved working student with introverted tendencies while on the opposite, Jungkook is a known varsity star, who's rumored to be a CEO's son (He is. He admitted it to you), on campus with a charm that works for everyone.  Just like how great he is at playing basketball, he is equally good at socializing and making new connections. That charm definitely worked for you a year ago because one thing led to another and now, he is in your bed, casually scrolling on his phone.

"Why do you have a camera with you?" you broke the silence after reading for god knows how long. Yet, you are unsure if you picked up anything from it.

He looked up, reaching for the camera bag he brought with him earlier, "It's a new one, my dad brought it to me as a gift."

"For what? Your birthday was like three months ago," you asked even though you already had an answer in your head.

"I helped him with some documents," he replied, knowing that you would say something after.

"Spoiled." you teased him.

"Haters gonna hate," he responded with a sassy roll of his eyes, you laughed. "Anyway, I'm kinda testing it out. So, if you don't mind..."

He placed the camera in front of him, aligning its viewfinder to his left eye. You put the back of your hand under your chin with a tight smile on your lips, posing. Click. A shutter sound and a bright flash followed. You see Jungkook look down at his camera to check the outcome. A small smile forms on his lips.

"You have too many pictures of me," you told him.

Every single time you two are together, he takes a picture of you. You don't really mind even though some shots are candid. Some of the pictures of you he took are the only ones you have on your Instagram. He's good at it, but sometimes, you worry you will get used to being his muse.

"I'm thinking of making an exhibition out of it." he said.

Sensing his sarcasm, you ride on with it, "Yeah, you can title it with something like, The Life Of An Overworked Twenty-Something Student. I looked exhausted in all those photos. An ugly, dry potato."

"I think you look pretty in all of them."

And it didn't help that he complimented you a lot after taking pictures of you. It just scares you that you feel a light feeling in your stomach when you see him smile after taking a shot of you or when he calls you gorgeous or pretty.

But instead of letting the giddy feeling show, you just smiled, "Of course you do, you're sleeping with me. You will always find me attractive."

It was almost an hour later when Jungkook paused the video he was watching on his phone to once again try his camera. A camera nerd, he was watching a clip about his new camera's settings. Of course, he was in his earphones so that he wouldn't get to distract you.

After modifying some parts of the settings, Jungkook placed his camera in front of his right eye, ready to capture another picture of you. But before he could click the button, he noticed your shoulders shaking.

His right eyebrow raised as he slowly put down his camera.

"YN?"

He heard you hiccup before humming, "Hmm?"

"YN, can you look at me?" he asked since you kept your back turned to him.

"Not now, I'm busy." you sobbed, failing to hide from Jungkook.

He frowned, getting up from your bed, "YN, baby..."

"No, I said-"

Before you could continue denying, Jungkook already pulled the swivel chair you were sitting on closer to him. You covered your face with your palms since you hated crying in front of anyone. Jungkook tries to remove it softly but you shake your head.

"Please, let me see your face. It's okay," he whispered while his thumbs drew circles at the back of your hands. Finally, you listened and let him hold down your hands.

"Shh..." he hushed you, wiping the tears on your cheeks. "What's going on? Are you okay? Is there any way that I can help you?"

"I-I cannot remember anything and I'm just so tired." you broke down, feeling the exhaustion from both studying and working finally creeping up in your body.

"Then, take a break. Let's nap." he offered, knowing how much you need it.

You cried even more, "I can't nap. My exams are tomorrow and I can't understand anything I've been reading so far."

He clicked his tongue in disagreement, "I'll wake you up in thirty minutes. How about that?"

While his offer seemed ideal for you, the pressure for what is coming tomorrow is heavily sitting on your shoulders. But you're really tired.

"Just nap?" you asked, making sure that it won't lead to anything else.

"Yeah— Okay, maybe cuddle." he shrugged.

"Okay." I kinda need that.

"Okay. C'mere, my snotty baby." He cooed.

You glared at him before slapping his chest. He laughed, catching your hand and pulling you to him on your bed. You fell on top instead of your mattress, feeling his toned body under you. His chin rests on the top of your head as he draws circles on your lower back.

"Let's do anything you want after your exams," he mumbled.

You exhaled, "Why celebrate? I am not even sure if I can pass it."

"You will. You're the smartest person I know."

This isn't the first time Jungkook saw you broke down over academic reasons. He knew how much you value your studies as someone who has always been an achiever since you began studying. It didn't help that your mom expects quite a lot from you, based on what you told him.

You looked up to meet his eyes, "Thank you."

He simply kissed your forehead, "Of course, babe."

You did find yourself feeling much better after your 30-minute rest. But, you also found something else when you woke five minutes ago next to Jungkook. It's something that can probably help you study.

"Take off your shirt," you whispered as you rested your head on his arm.

"Why?" he asked, suspicious.

"I think you can help me study," you said, sitting up on the bed.

Jungkook sat next to you, "I thought we were just cuddling."

"Jungkook." you called him. "Please, just do it."

"Okay, I will. You know I can't say no when you beg, babe." he teased.

You watched him reach for the back of his shirt and remove it over his head. With how cold your room is, Jungkook immediately crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles bulge before you. You were quiet, squinting your eyes on his arms.

Feeling a little conscious and confused, Jungkook spoke, "It's a little chilly here. What now?"

"Wait, let me get my sticky notes."

"You know, I should be paid for this," Jungkook spoke, covered in neon-colored sticky notes from his neck to his back and arms. "I am like your model."

"You are my 3d model." you laughed while tracing his body with your finger to look where you could stick your next label. "I'm too broke to buy one so just be my friend and let me put some sticky notes on you."

"I'll just buy you one." he offered and he's serious. If it's something that can help you, he'll buy it for you.

"You sound like the spoiled kid you are." you joked.

"I like it when you keep me humble and grounded," he reacted sarcastically. Out of a hundred people he knows on the campus, you are the only one who always reminds him of his privileges. He found it annoying at first but now, he just finds it funny.

"I know, it shows especially when you get all submissive sometimes." you joked again, scrunching your nose at him.

"Why won't you just let me spend money on you?" he asked, recalling the other scenarios he tried buying or doing something for you. But you were quick to decline him, especially if it's connected with money.

You stopped and stared at him, "For the tenth time, Jeon, I will not be your sugar baby."

"Or you can just be my... baby," he whispered, but since you are the only awake people in this house at this time of the day, you still heard that.

Your eyebrows scrunched, looking at him. Visibly cringing at what he said, you pushed his face with a laugh. You hear him chuckle lowly.

"If you want someone to be your baby, you should be asking girls out, not signing up for a friends-with-benefits-type of relationship with me," you mumbled while writing a certain body part on your notepad.

It is part of your agreement that this thing you two have will end once one of you starts dating again. But the idea of him asking girls out after literally sleeping on your bed for the last twelve months still made your heart sink a little. You cannot imagine how your future will be without him, you still haven't thought that far.

"I know..." he whispered. But you're not up for any commitment. He wanted to say that. Instead, he replied, "But you give the best blowjob ever. How can I look for someone else?"

You laughed again. God, he loves making you laugh. It's like a melody playing in his head.

"Yeah, I know. It will be hard to find someone better than me. I'm the best."

Yes, you are. He agreed, almost saying it if you haven't spoke to soon.

"Now, please, can you stop moving? My notes are falling everywhere."

"Hi, I'm Mabel."

It's been days since that night. Now, a blonde, blue-eyed girl offered her hand to Jungkook while he prepared to leave the campus with his car after his basketball training. Jungkook, being polite, introduced himself even though he was not really interested. He continued making sure he got all his stuff in his backpack as the girl continued saying that they had two classes together. When he was done checking, she spoke,

"I think you're really cute and was wondering if we could go out sometime? Maybe we can grab some coffee together?"

Jungkook scratched the back of his head, feeling bad for what he was about to say to this seeming freshman before him. A tight smile forms on his lips. This isn't the first confession he got in his lifetime, but rejecting someone is always hard.

"Wow... uhm... I'm sure you're a really wonderful person, Mabel. But I'm not really interested in dating anyone right now. I'm sorry."

The familiar flustered face instantly showed up on Mabel's face, "Oh, okay. Uhm, thank you for your time. Nice to meet you though."

Jungkook was not even able to reply before she ran away. It didn't took him too long to dwell on that interaction when he got a message from you.

YN 🩺

I PASSED

COME OVER!!!!1!

Jungkook smiled after reading that, feeling your relief and excitement. He typed in a reply before hopping in his car.

JK

I KNEW U CAN DO IT

SO PROUD OF YOUUU

WILL BE THERE IN FIVE ;)

note | scheduled as my first post for 2025 :) thank you so much for reading!

ps. will probably delete this later on

taglist rules

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

[winstonsns]

the gang with a soc!reader

authors note: sorry the last one was kind of all over the place. i tend to ramble when i write so ill try to stay more on topic this time. in this preference, you and the characters will already be a couple :3 im also wondering if people are clicking the hashtags then they see my posts?? so if that’s what’s happening and you can see my posts when you click the hashtags please tell me because i have no idea if it’s working LMAO

includes: ponyboy, johnny, darry, soda, dally, two-bit and steve

word count: 2.0k

warnings: mild cussing, mentions of fighting/getting jumped

PONYBOY CURTIS

you both are academic BEASTS so you’re somewhat rivals and trying to get to the top of the class

but you’re still together, it’s a healthy relationship

most of the time, you’ll actually walk him home from wherever you are since it’s safe for you to walk home on your own, but since he’s a greaser it’s not safe for him

when you met the gang they taught you how to fight in case some greasers or even some socs tried to fight you

by walking him home, you’ve actually prevented him from getting beat up

you like to take him out to get food or something he wants when he gets a good grade since he gets happy when they’re high

sometimes you’ll get lower grades than him and you two will study together, or reversed

you’ll get him a new book every time he finishes another one, by the end of the year he has a new shelf just filled with books you’ve given him

you occasionally read him to sleep when he’s having a hard time, or again reversed

he falls asleep pretty quickly when you do this and he really appreciates it

you always sit together during assemblies and choose to be each others partner in the classes you have together

if you don’t decide to do track one year you’ll go to his meets, and after you always take him out to eat since you’re proud

if he’s extra tired then he’ll ask to go home so you will

you learned how to cook so he can have big nice meals, along with baking chocolate cake when soda and darry aren’t there to make it

pony thinks you make it better than darry but will never tell him that

he really loves spending time with you and feels like you’re the first person besides johnny to really understand him

you made him think about socs in a different way too, in a good way

yall are just humans doing what you know best, some in different environments and had different parents with different parenting styles

you like to bring him to the best places in tulsa to watch the sunsets

you also get the best polaroids of the sunsets and the colors are so beautiful

JOHNNY CADE

as soon as he told the gang that he was dating someone they were excited for him, then they found out you were a soc

dally told him to break up with you without even knowing you, johnny told him to give you a chance

when johnny invited you to the curtis house to meet his friends, you brought presents for all of them since you wanted to make a good impression

you had your ways about finding what they like and don’t like

they immediately took a liking to you when you gave them presents and a kiss on johnnys cheek

you’d patch him up and give him bandaids to take home after getting beat up by socs or his parents

sometimes you’d give him money and he would use that money to get you something you’ve been wanting for a while

he’s always so thankful for everything you do for him and everything you give him

since your parents don’t really care about the differences between greasers and socs, they let johnny stay over since they know things are rough at home

sometimes they’ll take you and him out for dinner with them and you think it’s so cute

he was nervous your parents wouldn’t like him since most of the socs parents would think he’s gross

he’s always proud of you for naturally getting good grades and seeing the smile on your face when you get your report card

sometimes when he’s upset you two will cuddle in your bed or you’ll drive him to a restaurant or fast food place

he always feels bad about spending your money but you tell him not to feel bad about it since you have more

DARRY CURTIS

things got more financially stable when you came into his life

you’d help him pay groceries and the bills if he was struggling, you also helped around the house

sometimes he’ll wake up to the smell of bacon, waffles, eggs, etc and suddenly its like he doesn’t have to be the responsible one 24/7

having you in his life has improved everything, and his brothers are so thankful to have you there too

you’re like a mother to them and they’re comfortable enough to open up to you

sometimes you’ll ask him out on cute little dates randomly just so he can get a break of hard work

he’ll take the day off and get all dressed up since you told him you were taking him to a really fancy restaurant

occasionally you’ll get your nails done just for your dates and he always notices

you’ll ask him “which color is better” and he’ll say “aren’t they the same?” then you have to explain to him that one is darker than the other

he still doesn’t see the difference but chooses one anyway since he likes to see you happy

he’s literally so in love with you and how you’ll do romantic and domestic things for him

you’re so beautiful and perfect in his eyes, and sometimes he’ll stare at you and his brothers will tease him

he really loves being around you and having you by his side

you also helped him become calmer, that pony and soda have their own problems and darry yelling at them probably just makes them scared

he starts to actually communicate with them and you’ll give him gifts for completing or succeeding because why not

he’s always like “hon, you didn’t have to get me this…” but you can see he’s happy with whatever you give him

he just loves you so much and his brothers love you too but obviously not romantically

SODAPOP CURTIS

people actually think the both of you are socs, i mean they’re half right

they think soda is a soc since he’s so handsome and think you’re a soc because of your mannerisms and how you’re very beautiful

you’ll always visit him at the DX just to hang out with him

your parents love him and how he treats you so they also let him stay over at your house

sometimes when it’s sodas turn to get groceries from the store, you’ll go along with him

he just wants to be around you whenever he can

you’ll offer to pay for the groceries plus stuff he doesn’t need but instead wants

once he got a pimple and he freaked the fuck out

you bought him some cleanser, moisturizer, sunscreen and pimple patches

you taught him how to use them and when, and in which order to use them in

his pimple went away in a few days

since you’re so smart and get good grades, you’ll help pony with his homework sometimes

soda will stare at you helping him from far away, he thinks it’s adorable that you two are bonding

when the two of you are in your room, you’ll play frank sinatra and the little dippers while having a home-date with sweets :3

you two have so much fun and he even opens up to you about his problems

you offer to get him a therapist but he says it’s that bad, you tell him to talk to you if he wants to talk about it again

he legit treats you like a princess and you love it

yall are the most attractive couple EVER no one can tell if they wanna be you or be with you

DALLAS WINSTON

when he realized he liked you he knew he had to protect you with his life

he needed a break from loud and annoying girls, then he found you

you could get quiet at times and you weren’t constantly screaming and acting like an annoying 12 year old boy

you got him to steal less since you could pay for things on your own

he didn’t really listen and still stole money from other people so he could get you things

whenever he got put in prison you could always bail him out due to the money you have

if he had to serve time then you’d give him money so he could spend it and get necessities

you’ll also make diy crafts for him on your guys anniversary and his birthday

he brings you to meetups with the gang, and they love you being there with him

you spoil him rotten and he loves it

makes him feel like a princess, weirdly enough

he’ll steal money to spoil you too, pays for your nails sometimes

you told him you wanted specific flowers once and he got you flowers sometime the next week, he acted nonchalant about it but he loved the happy look on your face

TWO-BIT MATTHEWS

sometimes you’re quiet but he always finds a way to bring you to tears after laughing so hard

he’s literally the funniest person you’ve ever met

he never really expected a soc to get so loud since they were normally reserved and didn’t talk to many people

anyway you brought him to fucking disneyland once and he LOVED it

you booked a hotel and everything so yall saw mickey mouse

two-bit kinda laughed at him but he seemed happy so he didn’t care

he loves traveling with you and brags about it to the gang all the time

they say it’s cool then act like they don’t care but they’re kinda jealous he gets all that stuff

they’re happy for him though

sometimes you’ll get him little mickey figurines and he’ll put them on his nightstand, sometimes even carry it with him if it’s a keychain

he never would’ve expected a soc to be so nice to someone like him

he’s really glad that you love him and you show it

STEVE RANDLE

before you two started dating he tried to avoid you at all costs

he kinda thought you’d beat up him and his friends so he just stayed away from you

anyway when you guys started dating you’d drive him to the DX

you’d give him tips just for fun even if you didn’t buy anything from him

you’d buy him all sorts of little trinkets and such just so he’d have something to mess around with

i don’t have a lot of knowledge on him bro pls bear with me LMAO

he’s almost always with soda so you kind of became his best friend naturally

you’ll buy steve food on his breaks and drive him to restaurants or fast food places and you’ll eat on a bench or in a field together

you talk about some shit that happened at work while he listens

he’ll occasionally get you some food since he knows you like sweets

then you repay him with something he’s wanted for a while that he’s been asking for

whether it’s a book or food or a trinket idk

he loves you so much and is glad soda gets along with you so well

sorry this one’s shorter! i’ll try to make the preference longer next time. i’m gonna try to post at least twice per week but if im feeling good ill try to post more 💗 thank you for reading!

[ozzgin]

Hellöchen popöchen

I hope no one has asked this before, but does your Rent-A-Monster offer study motivation?

Either a tutor, that can teach me the stuff I have to learn or maybe a monster that will just force me to sit my ass down and study. They could reward me with a "good boy" and I'd probably melt, trying to study even better next time I rent them, just to make them proud again and hear them call me a good boy,,

Maybe I could also get motivated by the monster with the promise of,,, certain rewards 👀✨

Anyway, I have to study for exams and I just can't seem to really do it well and I think that a big hot monster would find a way to motivate me hhh

Hope you're doing well :D -🌚

The hallöchen gave me violent flashbacks from my German uni WhatsApp group 😭

Content: gender neutral reader, monster romance, NSFW

Monster!Tutor has been tasked to help you with your homework and studies. Despite, well, his monstrous appearance, he is soft spoken and polite. You found it rather comical to be greeted by an unholy beast as he clumsily adjusted his glasses, sheepishly welcomed you in and asked if you’d prefer tea or coffee.

Monster!Tutor couldn’t ask for a better student. You make him so proud, and he loves taking his time with you. He’ll praise every achievement, no matter how little, as well as your efforts. He knows you’re trying. That’s all that matters, really. For everything else, you can rely on him. You can count on him to support his favorite little human.

Monster!Tutor is determined to have you succeed at all costs. He’s noticed your dusted cheeks whenever you glance in his direction, or the way you twiddle your fingers when he comes nearby. Thus, he’s decided to use it to his advantage. “Oh, you can just sit here instead”, he’ll suggest cheekily, patting his lap. “I didn’t quite hear you”, he’ll say with a grin, pressing his large, clawed hands onto your shoulders and lowering himself close to your face. “Care to repeat?”

Monster!Tutor might have gotten a little too involved in the game he’s devised for your academic success. He yearns to see your flustered expression, so much that he forgot his original intent. It is only when he’s tracing your bare skin, gazing upon your heaving, used body, that he suddenly remembers. “The homework, of course!”, he’ll mumble, embarrassed by his lack of professionalism. “Perhaps I should…clean you up first.”

Monster!Tutor needs you to succeed, because he craves the reward as much as you do, maybe more. Won’t you bring a good result home? Then he can have his way with you again, until you’re a drooling mess and can’t even form coherent sentences anymore. Don’t worry, he’ll explain everything to you, as many times as needed. Besides, cheating is allowed every now and then.

“Do you even need to wear glasses?” you asked once, intrigued by his bizarre choice.

“Not really, no. I hoped to look more human-like for you. Does it work?”

“Uh…sure” you nod, holding back a chuckle.

[nhura]

Life is too short.

[ my art ] [ twitter ]

(detail + ratio rambling under the cut >_>)

This is one of those "I need a break between my ten other illustrations, let me do a lil sketchy sketch :D" that got too ambitious etc. etc. I never want to see the color red again" moments. BUT!

I really, really like to explore Ratio's viscerality and what's happening between his brain and his nerves, like... all of this thorough control and discipline and he still has to breathe and react to himself and his surroundings, you know? His accomplishments are insane for "his age"* but he's going to run out of "age" at some point! His ambitions are so far reaching that he's not worried about getting doctorate degree Number Nine! Rather, his efforts are pointed outwards, into the universe, for the universe. As you know.

Speaking of his degrees, I had a half thought a while ago that we've seen him with two types of laurel pins.

One is him in his suuuuuper cute mother goose avatar (three leaves) and the other is the hat he's wearing everywhere else (eight leaves).

The thought was, "Aww, what if they're like commemorative pins counting the number of his degrees or whatever :)". Literally only because there's eight in the current one. This is kind of silly because then you'd HAVE to have an obscene number of degrees even for a normal person for your leaf pin to start looking like a laurel in the first place so scratch that BUT it's cute to think that it's still academic regalia. Something something I work in higher ed myself and it's like... it's like that.

The university goldsmith appreciates the job security.

I REMEMBER WHY I BROUGHT THAT UP. FOLLOWING the fantasy where more leaves = more knowledge!, in summary, even though Ratio seems to be a little beyond trying to get a prize every time he learns something now. But he does want to Keep Going. He can only Keep Going.

So I drew him in a bathtub full of an uncountable amount of gold leaves looking at the camera with an indescribable expression born from a hunger that will never be satiated lol DETAIL SHOT!

*Referenced only vaguely in a comment in the context of astonishment, but it could have easily have been "woah he's accomplished so much for his age (young)" as it could be "woah he looks good for his age (older)". There is no canon age and even then, reconciling standardized system time versus planetary time versus "does his particular breed of lizard human have the same lifespan as tumblr user nhura?" is a losing game for everyone involved! Here's what I think: I think he started going grey in his early twenties, whatever that means in spacefantasygame, and that that's very cute on him.

Do YOU think Ratio would be tempted by immortality???? Or would he MIND HIS BUSINESS

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Reverse engineers bust sleazy gig work platform

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/11/23/hack-the-class-war/#robo-boss

A COMPUTER CAN NEVER BE HELD ACCOUNTABLE

THEREFORE A COMPUTER MUST NEVER MAKE A MANAGEMENT DECISION

Supposedly, these lines were included in a 1979 internal presentation at IBM; screenshots of them routinely go viral:

https://twitter.com/SwiftOnSecurity/status/1385565737167724545?lang=en

The reason for their newfound popularity is obvious: the rise and rise of algorithmic management tools, in which your boss is an app. That IBM slide is right: turning an app into your boss allows your actual boss to create an "accountability sink" in which there is no obvious way to blame a human or even a company for your maltreatment:

https://profilebooks.com/work/the-unaccountability-machine/

App-based management-by-bossware treats the bug identified by the unknown author of that IBM slide into a feature. When an app is your boss, it can force you to scab:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/07/30/computer-says-scab/#instawork

Or it can steal your wages:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/04/12/algorithmic-wage-discrimination/#fishers-of-men

But tech giveth and tech taketh away. Digital technology is infinitely flexible: the program that spies on you can be defeated by another program that defeats spying. Every time your algorithmic boss hacks you, you can hack your boss back:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/02/not-what-it-does/#who-it-does-it-to

Technologists and labor organizers need one another. Even the most precarious and abused workers can team up with hackers to disenshittify their robo-bosses:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/07/08/tuyul-apps/#gojek

For every abuse technology brings to the workplace, there is a liberating use of technology that workers unleash by seizing the means of computation:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/13/solidarity-forever/#tech-unions

One tech-savvy group on the cutting edge of dismantling the Torment Nexus is Algorithms Exposed, a tiny, scrappy group of EU hacker/academics who recruit volunteers to reverse engineer and modify the algorithms that rule our lives as workers and as customers:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/10/e2e/#the-censors-pen

Algorithms Exposed have an admirable supply of seemingly boundless energy. Every time I check in with them, I learn that they've spun out yet another special-purpose subgroup. Today, I learned about Reversing Works, a hacking team that reverse engineers gig work apps, revealing corporate wrongdoing that leads to multimillion euro fines for especially sleazy companies.

One such company is Foodinho, an Italian subsidiary of the Spanish food delivery company Glovo. Foodinho/Glovo has been in the crosshairs of Italian labor enforcers since before the pandemic, racking up millions in fines – first for failing to file the proper privacy paperwork disclosing the nature of the data processing in the app that Foodinho riders use to book jobs. Then, after the Italian data commission investigated Foodinho, the company attracted new, much larger fines for its out-of-control surveillance conduct.

As all of this was underway, Reversing Works was conducting its own research into Glovo/Foodinho's app, running it on a simulated Android handset inside a PC so they could peer into app's data collection and processing. They discovered a nightmarish world of pervasive, illegal worker surveillance, and published their findings a year ago in November, 2023:

https://www.etui.org/sites/default/files/2023-10/Exercising%20workers%20rights%20in%20algorithmic%20management%20systems_Lessons%20learned%20from%20the%20Glovo-Foodinho%20digital%20labour%20platform%20case_2023.pdf

That report reveals all kinds of extremely illegal behavior. Glovo/Foodinho makes its riders' data accessible across national borders, so Glovo managers outside of Italy can access fine-grained surveillance information and sensitive personal information – a major data protection no-no.

Worse, Glovo's app embeds trackers from a huge number of other tech platforms (for chat, analytics, and more), making it impossible for the company to account for all the ways that its riders' data is collected – again, a requirement under Italian and EU data protection law.

All this data collection continues even when riders have clocked out for the day – its as though your boss followed you home after quitting time and spied on you.

The research also revealed evidence of a secretive worker scoring system that ranked workers based on undisclosed criteria and reserved the best jobs for workers with high scores. This kind of thing is pervasive in algorithmic management, from gig work to Youtube and Tiktok, where performers' videos are routinely suppressed because they crossed some undisclosed line. When an app is your boss, your every paycheck is docked because you violated a policy you're not allowed to know about, because if you knew why your boss was giving you shitty jobs, or refusing to show the video you spent thousands of dollars making to the subscribers who asked to see it, then maybe you could figure out how to keep your boss from detecting your rulebreaking next time.

All this data-collection and processing is bad enough, but what makes it all a thousand times worse is Glovo's data retention policy – they're storing this data on their workers for four years after the worker leaves their employ. That means that mountains of sensitive, potentially ruinous data on gig workers is just lying around, waiting to be stolen by the next hacker that breaks into the company's servers.

Reversing Works's report made quite a splash. A year after its publication, the Italian data protection agency fined Glovo another 5 million euros and ordered them to cut this shit out:

https://reversing.works/posts/2024/11/press-release-reversing.works-investigation-exposes-glovos-data-privacy-violations-marking-a-milestone-for-worker-rights-and-technology-accountability/

As the report points out, Italy is extremely well set up to defend workers' rights from this kind of bossware abuse. Not only do Italian enforcers have all the privacy tools created by the GDPR, the EU's flagship privacy regulation – they also have the benefit of Italy's 1970 Workers' Statute. The Workers Statute is a visionary piece of legislation that protects workers from automated management practices. Combined with later privacy regulation, it gave Italy's data regulators sweeping powers to defend Italian workers, like Glovo's riders.

Italy is also a leader in recognizing gig workers as de facto employees, despite the tissue-thin pretense that adding an app to your employment means that you aren't entitled to any labor protections. In the case of Glovo, the fine-grained surveillance and reputation scoring were deemed proof that Glovo was employer to its riders.

Reversing Works' report is a fascinating read, especially the sections detailing how the researchers recruited a Glovo rider who allowed them to log in to Glovo's platform on their account.

As Reversing Works points out, this bottom-up approach – where apps are subjected to technical analysis – has real potential for labor organizations seeking to protect workers. Their report established multiple grounds on which a union could seek to hold an abusive employer to account.

But this bottom-up approach also holds out the potential for developing direct-action tools that let workers flex their power, by modifying apps, or coordinating their actions to wring concessions out of their bosses.

After all, the whole reason for the gig economy is to slash wage-bills, by transforming workers into contractors, and by eliminating managers in favor of algorithms. This leaves companies extremely vulnerable, because when workers come together to exercise power, their employer can't rely on middle managers to pressure workers, deal with irate customers, or step in to fill the gap themselves:

https://projects.itforchange.net/state-of-big-tech/changing-dynamics-of-labor-and-capital/

Only by seizing the means of computation, workers and organized labor can turn the tables on bossware – both by directly altering the conditions of their employment, and by producing the evidence and tools that regulators can use to force employers to make those alterations permanent.

Image: EFF (modified) https://www.eff.org/files/issues/eu-flag-11_1.png

CC BY 3.0 http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0/us/

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

Do you have a list of good sex ed books to read?

BOY DO I

please bear in mind that some of these books are a little old (10+ years) by research standards now, and that even the newer ones are all flawed in some way. the thing about research on human beings, and especially research on something as nebulous and huge as sex, is that people are Always going to miss something or fail to account for every possible experience, and that's just something that we have to accept in good faith. I think all of these books have something interesting to say, but that doesn't mean any of them are the only book you'll ever need.

related to that: it's been A While since I've read some of these so sorry if anything in them has aged poorly (I don't THINK SO but like, I was not as discerning a reader when I was 19) but I am still including them as books that have been important to my personal journey as a sex educator.

additionally, a caveat that very few of these books are, like, instructional sex ed books in the sense of like "here's how the penis works, here's where the clit is, etc." those books exist and they're great but they're also not very interesting to me; my studies on sex are much more in the social aspect (shout out to my sociology degree) and the way people learn to think about sex and societal factors that shape those trends. these books reflect that. I would genuinely love to have the time to check out some 101 books to see how they fare, but alas - sex ed is not my day job and I don't have the time to dedicate to that, so it happens slowly when it happens at all. I've been meaning to read Dr. Gunter's Vagina Bible since it came out in 2019, for fucks sake.

and finally an acknowledgement that this is a fairly white list, which has as much to do with biases with academia and publishing as my own unchecked biases especially early in my academic career and the limitations of my university library.

ANYWAY here's some books about sex that have been influential/informative to me in one way or another:

The Trouble With Normal: Sex, Politics, and the Ethics of Queer Life (Michael Warner, 1999)

Virginity Lost: An Intimate Portrait of First Sexual Experiences (Laura M. Carpenter, 2005)

Virgin: The Untouched History (Hanne Blank, 2007)

Sex Goes to School: Girls and Sex Education Before the 1960s (Susan K. Freeman, 2008)

Bonk: The Curious Coupling of Science and Sex (Mary Roach, 2008)

Transgender History: The Roots of Today's Revolution (Revised Edition) (Susan Stryker, 2008)

The Purity Myth: How America's Obsession with Virginity is Hurting Young Women (Jessica Valenti, 2009)

Not Under My Roof: Parents, Teens, and the Culture of Sex (Amy T. Schalet, 2011)

Straight: The Surprisingly Short History of Heterosexuality (Hanne Blank, 2012)

Rewriting the Rules: An Integrative Guide to Love, Sex and Relationships (Meg-John Barker, 2013)

The Sex Myth: The Gap Between Our Fantasies and Realities (Rachel Hills, 2015)

Come as You Are: The Surprising New Science That Will Tranform Your Sex Life (Emily Nagoski, 2015)

Not Gay: Sex Between Straight White Men (Jane Ward, 2015)

Too Hot to Handle: A Global History of Sex Education (Jonathan Zimmerman, 2015)

American Hookup: The New Culture of Sex on Campus (Lisa Wade, 2017)

Buzz: A Stimulating History of the Sex Toy (Hallie Lieberman, 2017)

Histories of the Transgender Child (Jules Gill-Peterson, 2018)

Revolting Prostitutes: The Fight for Sex Workers' Rights (Juno Mac and Molly Smith, 2018)

Ace: What Asexuality Reveals About Desire, Society, and the Meaning of Sex (Angela Chen, 2020)

Pleasure in the News: African American Readership and Sexuality in the Black Press (Kim Gallon, 2020)

A Curious History of Sex (Kate Lister, 2020)

Boys & Sex: Young Men on Hookups, Love, Porn, Consent, and Navigating the New Masculinity (Peggy Orenstein, 2020)

Black Women, Black Love: America's War on Africa American Marriage (Dianne M. Stewart, 2020)

The Tragedy of Heterosexuality (Jane Ward, 2020)

Hurts So Good: The Science and Pleasure of Pain on Purpose (Leigh Cowart, 2021)

Strange Bedfellows: Adventures in the Science, History, and Surprising Secrets of STDs (Ina Park, 2021)

The Right to Sex: Feminist in the Twenty-First Century (Amia Srinivasan, 2021)

Love Your Asian Body: AIDS Activism in Los Angeles (Eric C. Wat, 2021)

Superfreaks: Kink, Pleasure, and the Pursuit of Happiness (Arielle Greenberg, 2023)

[beamorgan]

Favourite Reads of the Year

I will not be ranking these, because that would hurt my heart. Buckle up folks, there are a lot of amazing books out there

The Murderbot Diaries by Martha Wells

I know, I KNOW, I'm late to the party but omg this whole series is just as good as people say!!! I know I said I wouldn't be ranking, but if I was these would be fighting for the top spot. I have already relistened to all the audiobooks. I anticipate rereading them literally every year from now on. I would die for Murderbot, which it would think is a stupid thing for a human to do when there is a SecUnit right there. [adult, scifi]

Emily Wilde's Map of the Otherlands by Heather Fawcett

Sequel to last year's fav Emily Wilde's Encyclopaedia of Faeries, this follows a bullheaded academic trying find the magical door that will let her faerie boyfriend back into his faerie kingdom. Chaos ensues in the Alps. It's fabulous, and the author's approach to using folklore is very similar to my own writing, which I love and also get imposter syndrome about. 10/10 recommend [adult, historical fantasy]

Model Home by Solomon Rivers

Would you like to be repeatedly punched in the gut? Look no further than this story of racism and child abuse in a Texas McMansion, with gorgeous prose and a genderqueer protagonist and the laundry list of content warnings you can expect with the genre. It hurt so good. [adult, contemporary gothic horror]

You Should Be So Lucky by Cat Sebastian

This love affair between a baseball play and a sports reporter was recced to me by the lovely @colubrina and boy was it worth the two-day binge it inspired! Romance can be very hit-or-miss for me, but this knocked it out of the park (please enjoy my pun). I didn't even have to know anything about baseball to love it! [adult, historical (1960s) romance]

The Locked Tomb Series by Tamsyn Muir

Another tumblr fav, FOR A REASON. Gideon is hilarious. Harrow is an absolute mess. Nona is BABY, my beloved. (Camilla and Palamedes have my whole entire heart). Also, the audiobook narrator is fantastic. In the words of the author, the buns are also fried chicken. [adult, sci fantasy]

Master and Commander by Patrick O'Brian

This one is @elodieunderglass's fault. Historical buffoonery on boats. The main characters are ridiculous. The sailing jargon is incomprehensible. It's great. [adult, historical fiction]

All You Can Ever Know by Nicole Chung

This is a gorgeous memoir of an interracial adoptee trying to make contact with her birth family while pregnant with her own child. It grapples thoughtfully with reconnecting to a lost culture, the complexities of family history, and the social and legal barriers adoptees face to learning about themselves. [adult, memoir]

Death in the Spires by KJ Charles

I devour everything Charles writes, so I was EXCITED for this mystery. She made it very clear on social media "It's not a kissing book!!" (it's kinda still a kissing book). She wrote a stonking book, as usual, with an underdog protagonist revisiting the murder that happened during his toxic time at Oxford university. [adult, historical mystery]

Martyr! by Kaveh Akbar

My favourite literary fiction read of the year, this meditation on Iranian diaspora identity is written by a poet and you can tell. I would suck the prose up through a straw if I could. The protagonist is an addict and also quite suicidal. It was fun :) [adult, literary fiction]

She Who Became the Sun by Shelly Parker-Chan

and the sequel, He Who Drowned the World. I don't even know how to sell this, all I want to do is flail incoherently about how amazing it is. IT'S AMAZING. JUST READ IT. (wait I know: this satisfied the part of me that was obsessed with Mulan as a kid) [adult, historical fantasy]

A Little Trickery by Roseanna Pike

The voicey-est book I've ever read. I screenshot like every other page. It follows an orphaned girl trying to survive in Tudor England through various means, such as faking a miracle in the church where her gay best friend is priest. [adult, historical fiction]

At the End of the River Styx by Michelle Kulwiki

My friend wrote a book! It made me cry!!! They were delighted with this!!! Please give this to any teenager in your life who needs to see thoughtful representation of grief and depression and boys in love. [YA, contemporary fantasy]

[a-minke-whales-tale]

Delusion, Clinical Zoanthropy

I am a clinical zoanthrope. I have schizophrenia. If you have read my posts or blog before this should be no surprise as I am quite open about it. These labels that have been put on me affect nearly every aspect of my life, and greatly affect how I interact with the community. There is often a lot of discussion surrounding ideas of physical identity, delusion and if these things should be acceptable within the community or how to handle these topics.

Length: 3676 words

TW: delusions, reality checking, mentions of medical abuse

The year before last, I had spent quite a bit of time working with another academic to construct a historical materialist analysis of therianthropy. Historical materialism for people who are not familiar is a method of analysing history through the lens of production and class society. In particular, given the apparent wealth of historical therianthropy among “primitive” society, and the narrow niche of modern therianthropy, as well as my own treatment at the hands of the medical system, I wished to understand the origins of the oppression of therianthropic identity. I have to date not completed the project for a number of reasons - limited available literature regarding the transition from pre-class society to slave society particularly regarding religious and spiritual beliefs, personal health and time, and forcing myself to create a complex system of double bookkeeping and analysing my experiences through a materialist lens essentially constantly and forcibly reality checking myself constantly was very taxing.

Although I did not get to the state to write and publish the paper, I did learn a fair bit, and I think the most important concept within this discussion is the concept of delusion and how we define it. There is a common vulgar definition of delusion as believing anything that is not real or not backed by scientific consensus. But then there are many things people believe which is not backed by scientific consensus. While certainly there are people who would say that anyone who believes in ghosts or the Christian God are delusional, nearly half of the people in my country believe in God, however we lack any materialist evidence at this point for such a thing. The state of being identified by others as delusional comes with some pretty serious consequences, it should be noted though that these consequences are not applied to people who believe in God. Similarly, there are times when scientific consensus is simply wrong. Is the man who rejects the inherent inferiority of the [Sub-saharan Afrikan] race because of their skull shape and “thick skin” delusional? We today would collectively say no. For a man in the early 19th century, this would have been scientific consensus even if now we should find such a thought abhorrent. Was he then delusional? (Though some people did try to justify slaves escaping as a mental health condition Drapetomania, and historical terms like madness are often connected to modern terms like delusion and psychosis). I think often modern humans can create an almost religion out of science and progress and belief in their own rationalism - that not only is there absolute objective truth, but they can and do know it all in this particular moment, and that the society they exist within does not effect an impact on their view.

It is important to understand that delusion has a fairly specific definition and caveat when talking in a medical definition. That important caveat is that the belief conflicts, or is not standard, within their culture or subculture. Not only that, the belief must be very fixed and firmly set which does not respond/change to the presence of outside evidence. This cultural context is an important factor in the diagnostic criteria for delusions, as well as dissociative disorders like OSDD and DID (it may well be important for other conditions diagnostic criteria as well though I lack experience to speak on that topic).

Delusions -are- very much socially defined. I make the joke often that a rich man hears the voice of God he runs for office, I hear the voice of a spirit and need to be on antipsychotics. There are a number of examples namely in SEA where the experience of transforming into another animal would be considered entirely within the range of normal possibility (though notably with tigers primarily). There are also cultures and practices in which physical transformation is not considered delusion but a normal part of ritual notably among the Xan peoples. Among some Siberian cultures as part of hunting some will take essentially the mind of a wolf. In South Asia there are also recorded practices in which a person’s soul is bonded to and moved to an animal’s body in the night. Most people those reading this might encounter day to day would think these are surely delusions, but for those people, it is just a normal part of life and culture.

Most people here would collectively agree that therianthropy is not a delusion, however from outside the community many easily could argue it. You -are- human, you can look at your body and it and see that it -is- human. If you argue for past lives, there exists no evidence supporting that and no evidence supporting the existence of spirit or plausible explanation beyond hallucination despite many attempts to measure their existence. Nor do you have the instincts of that animal because you are clearly a human, and any "instincts" you might have are phantoms of the mind or attaching to a certain animal as a way to manage your life. However neither of these explanations would be acceptable nor would they convince you that you are wholly and entirely human.

Similarly with transgender identity, people here would collectively agree that is not a delusion. But 60 years ago? Or among transphobes? You are experiencing a delusion. You are obviously a wo/man, and no amount of hormones, [presentation], or [surgery] will change that. We would all collectively say fuck that shit, but you know who agrees under certain circumstances? WPATH in their Standards of Care directly notes among certain conditions of transgender identity as delusion (or at least in their old SOC before informed consent became common). It is common for people with schizo-spectrum disorders and higher level structural dissociative disorders to be denied care, or to face significant pushback. But this can also be true for all sorts of other “less serious” conditions such as austime, adhd, depression etc. This is something I have faced, and who knows how many others have faced it as well.

But what a delusion is very much defined by perspective and culture. It is easy when sitting on the "non-delusional" side of a cultural belief, to believe the order of things is logical. However, when I must construct materialist explanations of experiences, a task for which I am forced as part of double bookkeeping, the differences between my "delusional" experiences, and others "nondelusional" experiences especially in regards to therianthropy is one of degree, not of kind. Do not make the mistake to think that in other scenarios, other cultures, your experiences may be seen as delusions, and in other places, mine as natural and grounded in reality.

My experience as a clinical zoanthrope has left me often feeling quite divorced from the community, that I am separate, unwelcome, or an interloper in what is supposed to be my own community. I have been in the community for a while, but only at certain points felt comfortable to really call myself therian, a feeling which is again waning. There is a strong push constantly against physical identity. Even the most (in)famous phrase in wider culture about therians is the “on all levels except physical I am a wolf”. However this pushback against physical identities, especially from the concerns over P-shifter cults and abuses, created an environment that for me to be tolerated, I would have to constantly “show insight” or really reality check myself, and ensure all the others there knew that I knew my experience was not real and was not like their experiences were (that theirs were real and different). I still often have to do the dance describing my experiences, and even in the terms I use for myself as a clinical zoanthrope is indirectly that same dance.

The therian community often prides itself on how accepting it is. Though to be honest, I really have to question if this is the case. I have always felt unwelcome by the broader community. But so have very many others. It always strikes me that whenever I really share my experiences, how many others really relate to that feeling of not feeling wholly secure or belonging within the community. My orca friend, Ike, has talked quite a lot how they simply did not join the community for so long for feeling unwelcome. Sharing my experiences on a discord server a few weeks ago I learned another member was also a zoanthrope but had never shared it for fear of ostracization. A number of others expressed sentiments of feeling not total included, some for shift strengths, some for things like sexuality, theriomythics often get excluded, etc. Heck, by some accounts even the transition to the term Therian away from Were was an effort to include more people besides just shapeshifters.

Really when you think about it, it is not surprising so many people feel excluded in various ways. Therians have all these lines that you have to sit inside of and not cross to be acceptable to the community. But when you try to actually measure those lines many are not only extremely blurry, but vary person to person. Indeed my own experience is that there are people that do accept me, even if the wider community does not, and that is really the only reason I stayed.

The community has historically for instance a pretty hard stance on delusion and hallucination. The question though is, when does a shift move from being a socially acceptable phantom shift, to an unacceptable hallucination. For me in particular, my sensation of shift goes through a fairly long process of getting more and more intense, but it is also really a quite smooth process. It is like following a colour line, when does ‘blue’ truly begin? The first sensation is often a slight tickling, and very light phantom touch that you can sort of see through the feeling on your body. Beyond that the sensation gets more intense and becomes bothered from having things push against or intersect it. Further it begins to have not only form but colour and texture, but still if I look at the limb I cannot see it, I still see a human limb, though I do not expect it. Further the visual appearance comes in more and more until eventually my human parts are gone, transformed into animal parts I can see and I can touch. When we write it out like this it is pretty separately defined, but in the process this occurs for me, it is very smooth.

After enough quantitative change, there is a qualitative change, but where and when that occurs is hard to say. I think the first two experiences are very common among therians. I think the third experience is also fairly common but that starts to get more and more into the blurry lines, and if you cannot see where that line is you are likely to downplay your own experiences for fear if you say too much, you will be excised or ostracised from the community. But this fear also has the doubly cruel aspect that you can never really know where that line is because many people downplay their experiences to make them palatable, and so though many others might share in these experiences, people simply do not speak of them because they only see either extreme being shared, the particularly minor shifts being accepted, or the extreme shifts being sorted into delusions. I think it creates a false binary from a spectrum of experiences.

So many of these blurry lines exist though. What age can you be taken seriously? What platform do you use? How many kintypes is too many? Theriotypes being too common? Theriotypes being too rare? Are paleotherians acceptable? Are theriomythics acceptable? Can a dragon be a therian? Can an otherlinker or copinglinker have their identity so long it becomes therian? Are beastly animals from fictional settings acceptable or should they be with fictionkind? What sort of sexual and romantic expression is allowable? Is transspecies an acceptable identity? Some of these are blurry, some of them are clear, but they all wiggle around in different ways of some people will find them acceptable and some not. This leads to people self-censoring to the safe answers that they know are acceptable and prevents them really exploring their own identities, but also these questions within the community as it learns and grows and becomes more inclusive. In a certain irony, therianthropes as a community, are actually quite demanding in their conformity while preaching of their acceptance.

There has been a significant push in recent years to give greater levels of inclusion to therians with both delusional identities and physical identities. People are generally more accepting of zoanthropes and at points I have felt comfortable even to call myself therian and not just a member of the community. But there are also a number of additional terms, namely endel and holothere, which cover these experiences. However, something I note often when people talk why I as a clinical zoanthrope can be acceptable, while P-shifters and at times holotheres cannot, still comes down to that I acknowledge my experience as delusion. When I read the experiences of at least some p-shifters and holotheres, often the difference really is not so great, I often see their experiences mimicking or mirroring my own. I do use the word clinical zoanthropy, which on some level does indicate an understanding I know that at least others see my experiences as not real. This is a pretty common feeling among zoanthropes, we use this word, we know the humans think our experiences are not real, but they are incredibly real to us.

The question then is what should be done with us? There is a lot of comment that allowing us in the community to share our experiences or not reality checking people is encouraging delusion. People also say that delusions are harmful and that we should seek medical help. There are quite a few people who even wish to excise or isolate those who are anti-psychiatry and anti-recovery from the community.

If I am forced to analyse my experiences through a materialist and distant lens, it is quite clear my experiences are heavily rooted in delusion. I am a scientist, and there is no means under current knowledge to explain what I experience except hallucination - still I believe it fully. My knowing this is the only logical explanation does not lead me to believe it, to truly believe it inside. I mentioned before I had to give up on projects I did really enjoy because forcing myself to continuously deny my experiences and continuously reality check myself, brought to me very much distress. There are times I have wanted to be reality checked, but for vast part that is the remainder it is really distressing. It is distressing to be told a core part of your identity is not real, to be told the you that exists isn’t the real you, and sometimes see people mourning the “sane you”. Individuals in the community are not going to solve my “delusion” by reality checking myself or others.

Nor will them blocking me from the community or ensuring I do the dance for them encourage my “delusions” away. Delusions are heavily fixed experiences, and though you can encourage them in certain ways (think the example of people making “in your walls” jokes at schizophrenics), us talking about and sharing our experiences with each other and in our own community helps us feel understood and a sense of belonging. There are so few of us to start with, and the community closest to us either often disallows us, or makes us sit at the edge never really able to join. All banning us does is further isolate us, and for many delusions reinforces that we will never be acceptable or tolerable to others and it is best we are alone so we don’t hurt others with our presence.

I cannot speak on every person’s delusions, but I can speak on my own. For the question of if delusions are harmful, I think it often asks the wrong question. Who is it harmful to? Under what framework? Who thinks it is harmful? What does the patient want? I think one could say that my delusions of turning into a whale do harm me. I have trouble to interact with humans, I cannot work a full time job, I struggle in relationships, many nights I lay on the couch stuck for hours simply unable to move. These are all pretty negative things no? But it fails to ask why are these things harmful? A doctor looks through a very human framework and sees that I cannot do the human things and sees that I must have a poor quality of life and these delusions need to be addressed. But I am a whale and it is a core part of me, these things can be distressing, but whales cannot interact with humans the same way two humans would, work a full time job, have relationships with humans, and if you stuck them on a couch they would also not be able to move. This all is distressing and perhaps harmful, but then what other option is there? What the humans offer to me as solution is far worse.

I am anti-recovery, at least for myself. I think it is important to ask what does recovery look like? For me recovery would be to return to the water where I belong. But the humans would certainly say otherwise. For them recovery would look like fitting into and functioning within human society - having a job, a house, a car, a husband, kids, going on holiday, etc. I am not a human and I do not wish to be a human and live among them. However what is worse is how the humans would go about fixing that. I have been locked in hospitals, I have been strapped down, I have been sedated, I have been put on horrible meds that destroyed things I cared about and have often left me a shell of a person (there is a reason they were marketed as a chemical lobotomy). Some things I have gotten better in over time, and I can hold a job for the moment, even quite technical and difficult jobs.

However, the damage done to me from the humans was severe. Although I can talk about being a whale as delusion, the why is really far more impactful and distressing in my life. I was taken from the water, turned human, and am a useful thing for the humans. This understanding of myself as merely a tool and something the humans can do whatever they want with me is the real distressing aspect of my life. For me, the ‘help’ I received at the hospital only strengthened and set this delusion in so much firmer. I can look back at certain experiences, I can see the humans don’t have the technology to do what they did to me, but then I also have those years in the hospital, those years where everything was very apparent and clear and something that others can confirm and it seems to only further make plausible the experiences of the past, and those in the present the fear for what the humans will do to me. I know that I am deteriorating, I am struggling more and more, but nothing the humans offer me will make things better, they will only hurt me more, and if I ask for help, and reject it, they will only see it as proof I need the help more and force it onto me, which will only further reinforce that delusion.

If someone wishes to see a doctor and talk about therian things, I do often warn them of caution for what happened to myself and I do not want others hurt that way. I also urge them to think about what they want as the outcome from that discussion or what they hope will happen. A lot of mentally ill people have been hurt by doctors who thought they knew best, and once something is said, it cannot be undone. However, in the end they are free to decide what they will, and are free to navigate the medical system if they think it will benefit them.

For myself, I struggle to believe that doctors would really help me and instead work to help myself and my cetacean friends so that maybe someday we could swim again and swim forever. That we can fix ourselves and heal. That in time the deep scars across our bodies might start to fade and look like the scars of other captive cetaceans. That instead of surviving merely trying to please the humans to not be hurt, that we might actually -live- and have the life we were denied.

We are still people with agency, agency to choose our own path, to choose what brings us joy, to decide what we want from life, and from our healthcare. Or at least we should be granted that agency. We should not be excluded from the community or forced to dance around our experiences as not real for the comfort of others who happen to lie on the other side of the sane-delusional line, afterall the positioning of that line is very arbitrary and could easily swing to find yourself on my side of that line.

~ Kala

[solxamber]

Romance Roulette — Rollo Flamme x reader

You, Rollo's self-proclaimed bestfriend, have been trying to set him up with someone for the past few weeks. If all your plans fail, maybe you should do it yourself?

Rollo Week Day 2!

You’re absolutely convinced that one of these days, Mount Rollo is going to erupt—metaphorically speaking. The man is a storm in human form, and if anyone needs to loosen up, it’s him. As his self-declared bestie, you’ve decided it’s your personal mission to fix this. And what better way to prevent a volcanic explosion than by finding him the perfect date?

Date 1: The Perfectionist

For the first attempt, you decide to set him up with someone equally serious—a meticulous scholar who practically breathes textbooks, just like Rollo. You arrange a nice little lunch at a quiet, book-filled café. The ambiance is perfect: walls stacked with old books, the soft clink of teacups, and an academic atmosphere. You figure they’ll be intellectual soulmates.

Everything goes well—until they start debating. What begins as a pleasant discussion about historical architecture quickly escalates into a competition of who knows more obscure facts.

Rollo’s frown deepens as his date continuously tries to one-up him. By the time their coffee arrives, they’ve gone through no fewer than five intense debates about the most esoteric details of 14th-century bricklaying techniques.

You check on them an hour later, only to see Rollo sitting there, arms crossed, looking like he’s ready to punch a library in the face. His date is still babbling on about the aesthetic superiority of Gothic buttresses.

When you catch him outside after the disastrous date, Rollo sighs heavily and mutters, “I’ve had more stimulating conversations with my textbooks.”

“Well, they can’t all be winners!” you laugh awkwardly.

Date 2: The Overenthusiast

Clearly, the last one was too intense. You decide to go for a different approach—a cheerful, bubbly person who’s passionate about spontaneous adventures. Maybe someone who will drag Rollo out of his stoic shell with some boundless enthusiasm and positivity.

The date starts off on a hike, and Rollo already looks skeptical as they begin rattling off suggestions for future extreme sports they should try together. “Skydiving’s on my bucket list,” they say, oblivious to Rollo’s growing dread. “Oh! And I’ve always wanted to try base jumping.”

“I don’t have wings,” Rollo deadpans.

Things only go downhill from there. His date suggests bungee jumping off a nearby cliff, just to spice things up. Rollo’s jaw tightens like he’s physically restraining himself from yelling, and by the end of the hike, he looks like he’s been through some kind of personal hell.

As they part ways, Rollo gives you a flat look. “I don’t understand how you come up with these people.”

You just shrug, trying to hold back your laughter. “Maybe you just need to learn how to let loose!”

His scowl deepens, and you’re already mentally planning Date #3.

Date 3: The Tortured Artist

Next up, you think Rollo needs someone with a creative soul—an artist with a vision, someone who’ll talk about the beauty of life and inspire him with their philosophical musings. You manage to track down someone who’s always talking about their next big project and their deep thoughts on the human condition.

Things start off okay, but midway through dinner, they begin rambling about the chaotic beauty of life. “You see, Rollo, destruction is just a form of rebirth. Every time something breaks, it’s just… making way for something new.”

Rollo stares at them like they’ve grown a second head. “I believe in structure and order,” he says stiffly.

The artist looks unfazed, waving their hand dramatically. “But chaos is art!”

By the time the night is over, Rollo looks like he’s aged ten years. When he returns to you, he mutters, “They suggested we burn down the restaurant. For ‘art.’”

You burst into laughter. “Okay, maybe not the creative type either.”

Rollo glares. “Stop trying to torture me.”

Date 4: The Free Spirit

Alright, maybe what Rollo needs is someone who’s completely carefree—a person with no boundaries or restrictions, someone who doesn’t sweat the small stuff. You set him up with a free-spirited individual who lives life with a “no rules” philosophy. They suggest meeting at a park for a casual walk, and at first, it seems like things are going fine.

Then they start suggesting that they should start a protest about “the man keeping us down” and skipping stones at a restricted pond area because, “rules are just social constructs, man.”

Rollo’s eye twitches as they start skipping stones like it’s no big deal. “You realize you’re breaking the law, correct?”

“It’s just a pond,” they wave him off. “Live a little!”

The date doesn’t last much longer. As soon as they part ways, Rollo gives you the most exhausted look you’ve ever seen. “Why do you do this to me?”

You grin, feeling only slightly guilty. “You said you needed to loosen up.”

“I’m going to throw you into that pond next time,” he mutters, but you can see the faintest smirk on his lips.

Date 5: The Socialite

This time, you think you’ve cracked the code. Someone social and charming, who knows how to navigate high society. You arrange a dinner with an outgoing socialite who can hold their own in any conversation.

Except, they spend the entire date talking about all the high-profile parties they attend, the famous people they’ve met, and their networking skills. Rollo is clearly unimpressed, barely saying a word as they drop name after name, and by the end of the night, he looks like he’s had all the life drained out of him.

“They talked more about themselves than any lesson I’ve ever attended,” he mutters to you afterward.

“Wasn’t that fun?” you tease, trying not to laugh.

Rollo just glares at you, muttering something about “irreparable damage.”

After the fifth disaster, you both sit in the café (again), your chin resting in your hands as you ponder your failure. “Maybe I’m just not cut out to be a matchmaker…”

“I’ve been telling you that since the first date,” Rollo replies dryly, sipping his tea.

You stare at the cup, lost in thought, then blink. "What if I just find someone more like...me?" Your eyes light up. "Of course! How did I not think of that before—"

"I think I’ve figured that out myself," Rollo cuts in. His tone is so dry, you almost miss the little sarcastic jab in it. He raises an eyebrow. “Why not just date me yourself, then? You’re the only one I can stand at this point.”

You pause mid-sip, blinking. “...What?”

He shakes his head, clearly joking, lips curling into a faint smirk. “You’re already committed to this ridiculous mission. Why not be my date, if you're so determined?”

Rollo’s tone is light, and you can tell he’s not being serious, but something clicks in your mind. You blink at him like he’s just handed you the Holy Grail. Slowly, you lower your teacup. “Wait...that’s...brilliant.”

It’s Rollo’s turn to blink. “What?”

You snap your fingers. “I’ll do it! I’ll date you!”

The smirk falls from his face as he processes your words. “What? No—wait—I wasn’t—” His usual composure slips for a moment, a flicker of shock in his eyes. “You’re serious?”

“Obviously,” you grin, completely oblivious to his shock. “I mean, I’ve been spending all this time trying to find someone else, but why would I need to? We get along great, I know your quirks, you know mine—this is perfect!”

Rollo is still processing, his mouth slightly open, like you’ve just told him the world is flat. “I wasn’t actually expecting you to—”

“So,” you interrupt, leaning in with a smug smile, “where are you taking me on our first date?”

Rollo groans, rubbing his temple. “You’re impossible.”

The date with Rollo is… interesting. You two plan a simple walk through the city, but it doesn’t take long for things to go off track. Rollo tries to impress you by leading you through what he calls a "shortcut"—a long, winding, and completely unfamiliar street that gets you both hopelessly lost.

"Is this your plan?" you tease, nudging him as he checks the map on his phone. "Get lost together so I’ll have to rely on your company?"

Rollo gives you a flat look. "No, this is my plan going terribly wrong."

But despite the mishap, the date is surprisingly fun. You tease him relentlessly about his poor sense of direction, and he grumbles about how you’ve ruined his peace, but there’s an underlying warmth to his words. It’s clear that, despite the banter, he’s enjoying himself.

After wandering around for what feels like hours, you finally find your way back to a quaint little café. You suggest stopping for a drink, and Rollo, surprisingly, agrees.

The conversation flows naturally, filled with lighthearted teasing and small smiles. Rollo, despite his usual stern demeanor, seems at ease with you, even allowing himself a small chuckle when you accidentally spill sugar all over the table.

As the evening winds down and he walks you home, there’s a comfortable silence between you two. At your ...your doorstep, you hesitate for a moment, unsure of how to end the night. Rollo stands there, watching you expectantly, clearly not used to situations like this.

“So,” you say softly, “thanks for, uh, getting us lost today.”

Rollo raises an eyebrow. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know,” you grin, stepping closer. “It was fun anyway.”

You lean in, brushing your lips softly against his in a quick kiss. When you pull back, Rollo is staring at you, frozen in place like he’s processing what just happened.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” you ask, suddenly feeling a little shy despite the chaos of the night.

Rollo blinks, his usual serious expression faltering as a slight blush creeps into his cheeks. “...Yes,” he says, almost as if he’s surprised by his own response.

You smile at him, the warmth from the kiss still lingering, and before you can walk away, Rollo suddenly grabs your wrist, pulling you back gently. He leans in, pressing a lingering, softer kiss to your lips, as if trying to make sure this time is real.

When he pulls away, he mutters, “I suppose I should thank you.”

“For what?”

“For being insufferable enough to try this.”

You laugh softly, a lightness settling in your chest. “I aim to please.”

As you head inside, you can’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, Mount Rollo isn’t going to erupt after all. In fact, it seems you’ve found a way to calm the storm for good.

Masterlist

[crescenthistory]

your last animagus fic was so sweet! it even made some ideas popped in my mind. i was thinking about feisty (gn) reader being a crow animagus accompanying barty into his mischief, which could be scaring the skittles or pranking people in general. if you could write this, it would be wonderful 💞

(fun fact: crows can mimic sounds such as ambience noise or even human voice, this is so amazing and a bit scary, imagine encounter one while you walk in the woods AAAAAKXNSM!!! i love them so much, thx for reading me yapp xx)

hi lovely<33 thank YOU for yapping to me, i find it very endearing and entertaining 🤲 people who are passionate about what they love>>>>

now, i personally don't think i would be able to write this as a full-length fic, as pranking and mischief is not reallyyyy within my toolbox BUT this is very cute so i'm giving you some belated headcanons 🫂 if anyone's able/willing to write a longer version, please do share with the class and tag me!!

i present to you my thoughts of crow!animagus!reader x barty:

i imagine you become an animagus before you and barty get together

(because if you wanted to do it while the two of you were friends/dating he would INSIST on doing the transformation process with you)

and i think deciding when your relationship is at the point where you can/should divulge that part of yourself would be difficult to pinpoint

so what happens is that you would be laying on the floor beside each other in the astronomy tower, stargazing together. a date of sorts, in the way every second you spend with barty somehow feels like a date as he is fully, wholly dedicated to you.

the later it got, the more you two would switch between genuinely trying to find and remember constellations and just goofing around

those type of late night conversations where you seem to get to know someone 100x more in just a few hours than you otherwise could over the spans of months

asking each other increasingly deep questions

"tell me something about you no one else knows"

when else would you get the perfect opportunity to reveal your animagus status to your boyfriend?

stupidly, you feared his reaction. would he be upset with you hiding it for so long? would he think your animagus form was silly? would he look at you differently?

but when i tell you this man shrieked with excitement

"show me, show me, show me"

when you turn into a crow and fly around him in circles, he genuinely would jump up excitedly and twirl in the same direction you're flying so that his eyes never have to leave your form, laughing and screaming

the only thing on his mind would be how spectacular and remarkable you are, excitement and love filling any space that the hostility you feared might have fostered

not to mention; "that's bloody badass, baby"

you would land carefully on his shoulder and barty would scoop you up close to his body, almost squishing you and making you squeak

"we're gonna have to perfect the art of cuddling with crows," he would say gravely

barty, the secret academic weapon and swot that he is, would SO do his due diligence with research immediately upon the discovery

we're talking library trips, tomes and scrolls purchases, books upon books of muggle literature on crows and wizard literature on animagi that he chases through faster than you could imagine

when he learns of crows being able to mimic noises, including human voices, his mind floods with ideas

"oh, we are going to have fun baby"

that's how you start accompanying him into his many tirades and mischief

most of the time it is just as a companion, the crow sitting on his shoulder as he runs around the castle wreaking havoc

it adds to barty's general intimidating aura and the reputation that just barely proceeds him — the crazy guy with the facial piercings, acid green streaks in his hair, punkish style, chokers and a volatile wand now also has a crow with him everywhere? hell no, people steer clear of him

it doesn't help that many students swear he talks to the crow and seems to hold an entire conversation with it, based solely on its body language and occasional caws

"i swear to bloody merlin, the crow looked at me when i spoke badly of junior. it's like it understood, some human-like capabilities or what not, fucking scary."

it doesn't take long before you become a more active partner in his shenanigans, though

you will call out people's names to get them to enter a room barty needs them in (because let's be real, if barty called for them, nobody would be stupid enough to fall for it and go to him)

you deliver letters and packages for him, you caw behind first years so that they jump in fear, you borrow people's clips and rings and pens

poor regulus and evan get the most shit from you among the skittles, while dorcas finds the most amount of entertainment through it

i imagine it's through your animagus form that the skittles learn that when pandora talks to animals she actually does understand them -> you two have lengthy conversations, much to everyone's eventual chagrin

and while the skittles of course all learn you're an animagus, no one else in the castle does

(though i imagine the marauders have their strong suspicions from early on)

barty was already showering you in gifts — "my father's outrages amounts of money should be put to good" — but now he has taken it upon himself to get you anything and everything shiny he sees

"you're a literal crow and i'm your dutiful partner. i have to contribute to the nest."

(mind you, this would likely be a thing even before he ever sees you seek out something shiny while in animagus form; he just assumes)

ironically, barty starts behaving like a crow himself in how he seeks out shiny trinkets for you

and while you try and tell him you don't have those instincts when outside of your animagus form... you actually really do and you revel in the love and attention

after a while, i do believe he would attempt to become an animagus too

honestly, he would begin getting on your case about it every single day from finding out. same way he would immediately learn his s/o's native language imo — he needs to be included.

especially if regulus is a cat animagus in this universe, because his two favourite people simply cannot have something in common that he is excluded from. this man is the epitome of fomo

my default animagus form for barty is a raccoon, but i think he would also make a lot of fun as a bat animagus which fits perfect with you as a crow

can you imagine, just you two flying around on school grounds and later on in your neighbourhood when you move in together?

the crow and the bat<3(shit crazy boy who loves them)

[importantstudentbusinessspy-blog]

Partner

Masterlist

Pairing: Tim Drake x (F) Reader

Tags: NSFW workplace romance, mutual pining, friends to lovers, protective Tim Drake, Red Robin, kissing, sweet, caring, fluff, smut

The sound of your ringtone interrupted the silence of your bedroom, jolting you up from a much needed sleep. Squinting against the glare of your screen, you read the name: Tim Drake.

You sighed and answered, your voice thick with sleep. “Drake, what are you doing up at three in the morning?”

“L/n,” His own groggy yet excited voice spoke through the phone, his voice far too alert for the hour. “Have you ever heard of The Obsidian Order?”

You leaned back against your pillow. "Uh... vaguely? They’re some fringe cult or something, right?"

"Right. Meta-human involvement, mystical artifacts, and alien technology," he rattled off, unfazed by your tired tone. "This matches the crime scene on Baker's Alley."

"... mystical artifacts, sure." you mumbled, already regretting picking up the phone.

"The shops that were attacked were connected by some underground ring of demonic worshippers. The Obsidian collection is probably their endgame,"

"Okay, Tim."

He then said flatly. "I need you sharp tomorrow."

"Drake, I need sleep to be sharp."

"Coffee's on me then," he joked before hanging up.

You shook your head, pulling the blanket over your face, but a sharp tug at the corner of your lips betrayed you.

Tim Drake was the youngest detective in the organized crime division in Gotham's federal investigation office. The branch was filled with seasoned detectives who have undergone rigorous training, examination, and experience in the field. Tim should have been a novice at his age, but you learned quickly that the young man was a prodigy. Like yourself.

You both graduated early, so most people were either jealous or impressed with your accomplishments in forensics at such young ages age.

When you met Tim, he began by countering with a detailed breakdown of your own academic history, citing several theses that you have written in college and showing he’s done his homework. You blinked, stunned and slightly ashamed. By comparison, you didn't bother to read much beyond his brief.

Tim was easy to like. Every time you were ignored by a higher up, he spoke up for you. Every time he got some news, he'd check in with you. It was so... sweet. He made you feel seen. Listened to.

When it came to investigations, Tim picked up on details no one else noticed, while you scientifically debunked his initial theories, he still insisted on them and oddly enough his hunches ended up being right about half the time.

Currently, the two of you were assigned to investigate a string of gruesome, ritualistic murders taking place in Gotham.

You sat across from Tim, showing him the rough draft of your plan. When you spoke, Tim watched you with an unexplainable intensity. Like you were telling him a valuable secret.

"So, if the Obsidian order place their bets at the drag race, thats where we can find and trap them." You finished. "What do you think -"

"Really?" A loud, condescending voice cut in before Tim could respond.

You stiffened as Richardson, one of Tim's fellow detectives, strolled up with a patronizing grin. "You do realize the drag race takes place in the city’s underground tunnels, right?"

"I know," you said through clenched teeth, trying to keep your composure.

"Do you even know who sponsors it?" Richardson asked, folding his arms smugly.

"Cobblepot," you replied with a clipped tone, suppressing the urge to snap at him.

He smirked. "So I assume you’ll be placing your own bets, then? Do you even know who the favorite is?"

"Richardson," Tim’s voice interrupted, sharp and unimpressed. "She knows more than you pretend to."

Richardson blinked, taken aback by Tim’s clipped tone, before lifting his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, alright." He walked off.

You exhaled heavily, slumping back in your chair. "He’s such a tool," Tim muttered.

"Tell me about it," you grumbled, flipping your notebook shut, but a lingering feeling bubbled in your chest. The same feeling that rose every time Tim stood up for you or defended you. You knew that he likely saw you as a friend, which was why he went out of his way to make you feel comfortable, but you wished he didn't.

It didn't help that he had a handsome boy-next-door look to him that fit your type exactly. Messy dark brown hair falling over light blue eyes and his pair of square rim glasses that rested cutely on his nose. Always wearing an unkempt button up, with the buttons done wrong, tie loosened, and sleeve rolled up to his elbows and showing off his impressive forearms. And those lips, with their annoyingly cute habit of chewing on a pen while he concentrated on a file, tapping away with his foot.

Many times, you caught yourself biting your lip and gazing at him.

Like right now.

You realized you zoned off again when your captain’s voice echoed through the precinct, "... which means we're getting audited."

A collective groan rose from the team, interrupting your daydream.

Tim leaned in beside you, his voice low and conspiratorial as his coffee scented breath brushed your ear. "Kill me now."

You glance at him, knowing your face was red. You offered a forced chuckle. "You first."

“Deal,” he whispered with a ghost of a smirk, leaning back as your captain walked off. "Now, let's go to the drag race. I like that plan of yours."

You smiled to yourself. He always liked your plans.

The plan didn't go according to plan.

As you arrived at the underground race, the chaos of gunfire from the Obsidian's rival gang filled the space, deafening your senses. Your chest heaved as you crouched behind a toppled table, struggling to steady your breathing. From your vantage point, you caughed glimpses of Tim, his figure darting between overturned furniture and scattering glass.

He took on three assailants simultaneously, never once reaching for his gun. Instead, he used the environment to his advantage, deftly maneuvering his attackers into each other and sending them sprawling over broken furniture. His movements were precise and calculated, a masterclass in efficiency.

Meanwhile, around him, the rest of the detectives grappled to hold their own, barely managing to fend off one opponent at a time. That included you.

A shuffle to your right caught your attention. Your stomach dropped as you spotted several men advancing your way. You reached for your weapon, but before you could aim, Tim was there, tackling you to the ground just as a new barrage of bullets tore through the air.

His body shielded yours, the weight of him pressing you into the floor. You barely noticed the pain in your shoulder as your head swam with adrenaline.

The gunfire faded, replaced by the sound of your labored breathing. Tim shifted, his hand cupping your face as he tilted your chin upward. His sharp gaze locked on yours, scanning for injuries. "Are you okay?"

Your pulse hammered, but you managed a shaky nod. "I’m fine." Then your eyes landed on the crimson cut running down his cheek. "You’re bleeding!"

Your fingers instinctively brushed the gash along his face. The dark blood against his pale skin stood out, but as you observed it closer, your stomach churned. The blood wasn't just red. It was tinged with an unnatural green.

Tim winced at your touch but didn't pull away. "It’s nothing," he muttered, trying to brush it off.

"It’s not nothing," you shook your head. "Tim, you’ve been poisoned!”

His brow furrowed, his movements slowing as your words registered. He shook his head to clear it, but you could see a sudden glassiness in his light blue eyes.

"I’m -" His breath caught, and he stumbled, blinking rapidly. His voice grows faint, tinged with confusion. "What the hell…?"

"Tim!" Your voice hardened, your concern barely concealed. "We need to get you out of here. Now."

He nodded weakly, his legs threatening to buckle. You quickly moved to support him, slipping his arm over your shoulder. Together, you stumbled toward his car, your heart pounding as you tried to ignore the blood soaking into your shirt. "No, no, no, please, no." You weakly muttered to yourself, not knowing what you would do if something were to happen to him.

You fumbled with the keys to Tim’s apartment, your arms straining under his weight. By the time you managed to open the door, you were both out of breath.

The space was a mess - papers and books scattered everywhere. You navigated to the bathroom, lowering him gently onto the cold tiled floor.

"I’ll be right back," you said, brushing his damp hair from his forehead before running toward the kitchen.

His first aid kit and the forensics kit you gave him as a gift were exactly where you remembered, tucked beneath the kitchen sink. You grabbed them and rushed back to find Tim slumped against the wall, his glasses slipping down his nose, sweat curling his dark hair against his forehead.

"Stay with me, Drake," you urged, kneeling beside him. You used tools from the forensics kit to collect a sample of the poison from his cut. The strip reacted instantly,

"What is it?" He mumbled, trying to concentrate on the kit in your shaking hands.

"Likely plant-based," your vocie shook. "Possibly laced with synthetic compounds - need to clean you up."

You twisted the shower handle, letting ice-cold water from the faucet, intending to keep him under cold to slow his circulation and prevent the poison from spreading too quickly.

Ignoring the spray soaking your clothes, you reached for him, guiding him to his feet. He swayed, leaning heavily against the wall as you helped him toward the water.

His bloody shirt clung to his skin, and he fumbled to pull it off. Your breath caught as the fabric peeled away, revealing the injuries scattered across his torso. Thin cuts seeped green-tinged blood, and your stomach churned.

Beneath the injuries, his chest and abdomen were a canvas of ridged muscle and faded scars. You realized you were staring when Tim swayed again, nearly collapsing into the shower.

You caught him, your hands slipping against his damp skin as you steadied him.

His short, shallow breaths brushed against your ear, distracting and intimate, and you felt your face heat despite the cold water soaking through your clothes.

You pushed the thoughts aside, focusing instead on holding him under the spray. Tim tilted his head back, letting the water stream over his face and into his open mouth. He drank greedily, desperate to flush the poison from his system.

"Tim," you said softly, your hand resting on his shoulder. He blinked at you, his usual sharp eyes dizzy.

"Thanks," he mutters hoarsely, his voice barely audible over the rush of water.

You nodded, swallowing hard as you grabbed a towel. "Don’t thank me yet. Let’s get the antidote for you first."

You applied a cold compress soaked in pain relief gel to reduce the effects. The antidote had worked, mostly. Tim lay sprawled on his bed, his shirt discarded, and the fresh bandages on his torso stark against his pale skin. He still looked feverish, his cheeks flushed, and his breaths slow and shallow.

You sat beside him on the edge of the bed, putting the blanket over his chest. You'd discarded your clothes, exchanging them for his t-shirt and a pair of shorts. The room was dimly lit, the faint glow of a streetlamp filtering through the window. You reached out, brushing a damp lock of hair from his forehead.

Tim’s eyelids fluttered open, his blue eyes glassy with exhaustion. "I’m freezing," he said hoarsely, his voice cracking slightly. His brow furrowed as if the chill was burrowing into his bones. "Stay. Please."

You hesitated, but the pleading in his tone unraveled you. "Okay," you said quietly before climbing into the bed beside him.

You lay down, pulling the blanket over both of you. He turned to you instinctively, his body curling slightly, seeking warmth. You felt the heat of his skin as you wrapped your arms around him, letting him tuck his face into the crook of your neck.

"Better?" you asked softly, your lips close to his ear.

He hummed in response, the sound low and drowsy. "You’re warm," he muttered.

His arms circled you loosely, his fingers brushing absentmindedly along your back, tracing your skin.

"Tim," you whispered, your voice a mix of amusement and shyness.

"Hmm?" His voice was groggy, but his hand moved lower, resting at the curve of your waist. His thumb stroked slow, lazy circles against your side, the touch sending a shiver up your spine.

"You’re supposed to be resting," you scolded gently, though there was no real heat behind your words.

"I am," he murmured. His hand traveled up again, sliding along your back, his fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt. "You're wearing my shirt."

"I am." Your heart raced as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of the shirt, his touch warm against your skin. His movements were languid, exploratory, like everything else about him.

You whimpered when his exploring fingers reached the peak of your nipple under your bralette, and your voice came out breathy.

His head tilted, and you felt the faintest brush of his lips against your shoulder.

The air grew hot, the space between you shrunk. You felt his lips move higher, grazing the curve of your neck, leaving a trail of heat in their wake. His fingers continued drawing circles on your sensitive nipple as his other hand tightened on your waist, pulling you closer.

“Tim,” you said his name in a question.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, his blue eyes darker now, the fog of his earlier exhaustion replaced with something sharper, more intent. “Stay,” he said again.

How could you possibly say no to him.

His lips continued their exploration on your neck, making you shiver as you felt wetness pooling between your legs. You couldn't process what was happening. You were in bed with your work crush as he touched you in a way that co-workers shouldn't. You were half expecting yourself to wake up from a dream.

Unable to mask your reactions, you found yourself whimpering with every movement he made on your body.

"You feel good." He moaned against your ear.

Your voice hitched when his reached your panties, cupping your sex. Every place he touched sparked with shivers, making you jump. His finger was now brushing back and forth between your folds, each movement brushing over your pulsing clit. "Tim,"

He hummed and one look at him confirmed he was watching you, studying your reactions. The same way he did at work.

"Oh," you arched your back as his fingers zeroed in on your nub, rubbing small circles around it.

He rolled you onto your back and leaned above you, then lifted up your shirt and lowered himself until his lips wrapped around the tip of your bralette wetting and weakening the already thin material until it was transluscent. He then did the same to your other breast. Your fingers curled around his messy locks, and you brought your hand up to cover your mouth from moaning too loudly.

"Dont cover your mouth," he gazed down at you through long lashes, bringing his hand to yours, interlocking your fingers together in a surprisingly firm grip, and holding it above your head Fully exposed, you struggled to suppress your moans.

"I need to hear you." He rasped, gazing into your eyes as his finger sped up on your clit.

Your stomach muscles flexed as you pushed yourself further into his hand, desperate for that feeling. "Ah, ah," you gave up on suppressing your noises and wimpers. "Please," you cry.

"Please what?" His eyes roaming across your features. "Tell me what you need. Tell me and I'll do it."

"Want to feel you," you reached for his waistband and pushed it down. "Wanted this for... so long."

"Me too, fuck-" He sucked in his breath sharply. "Keep touching there baby, please, please-" His breath caught in his throat when you brushed the top of his dick. "Yes, just like that baby," he closed his eyes as he brow furrowed. He looked beautiful like this. Chasing pleasure. You didn't know such kind of beauty was possible.

The two of you continue to pleasure each other, foreheads touching, as your joint breathes mixed with each other. You both competed to achieve pleasure for one another.

Just as the warmth spreads to your core, and you begin shaking. Suddenly, Tim cups your cheek and brings his lips down to yours, enveloping you in a deep kiss. Your lips twist against each other. His tongue exploring yours in an eager study as the two of you moan into your kiss.

Once the two of you draw apart, gasping for air. Tim lowers himself to kiss your cheeks and neck before moving to your collarbone and breasts, licking up the thin sheet of sweat on your body. Just as your eyelids grow heavy, he reaches his tongue to lick at your sex, cleaning you up with gentle licks. As sleep takes you, the last thing you feel is Tim lying down beside you and cradling you against the warmth of his chest.

[bahablastplz]

Undeniably His: Vampire Jeongin x Reader

Inspired by this post from @cbini, I started thinking about what sex would be like with your boyfriend I.N. the first time after he turns into a vampire with his new overly heightened senses. Content: Smut, Angst Warnings: Mentions of death, established relationship, kissing, blood-drinking, marking, hair-pulling, oral f! receiving, oral m! receiving, unprotected sex (but it doesn’t matter bc vampires can’t get humans pregnant), p in v sex, overstimulation   WC: 2600 

You had been dating Jeongin for a little over two years when the accident happened. A freak incident had sent your boyfriend over a bridge in a car accident that killed five people; he was the only survivor, pulled from the water in some freak miracle. Not a scratch on him. Physically, he was fine, but that was when he started experiencing other symptoms. Violent impulses. Weird cravings.  Heightened senses.  When he started getting sick you were beside yourself with worry. You had almost lost him once, you could not do it again. You had stuck by his side throughout the entire accident, through his grief, and of course, through the sickness. Your questions were answered when he was approached by the creature that turned him, telling him the truth of that night. That Jeongin needs to feed or he will die. That he was a vampire. 

Jeongin was overstruck with guilt and grief. He wouldn’t feed, he decided, he couldn’t kill another human being. This was much to your dismay, as this would mean that you would both lose your boyfriend and bestfriend. His mother would lose a son. The community would have to suffer through yet another loss after the accident. 

Jeongin fed against his own will. His behavior and attitude had changed over the course of his illness, and he had gotten into a petty fight. He didn’t even know the guy's name, but when Jeongin was pushed, weak and frail, something snapped. His fangs embedded into the man’s skin and he bled him dry. He didn’t even tell you after; you had read in the local news of a man that was exsanguinated, mysteriously in the night and you knew what your boyfriend had done. Immediately the mystery sickness went away but he could no longer bring himself to face you or his family, despite your protests and pleas to let you help him.

It was a long and grueling journey, convincing Jeongin to get back together with you. He wouldn’t even let you be ‘just friends,’ or even in your presence until he could learn to control his bloodlust. After several months he started going back to school again, despite the university putting him on academic probation; they gave him time to process his supposed PTSD from the accident. It was soon after he finally started answering your texts. 

Slowly, your boyfriend let you back into his life. He was the same man as he was before the accident, but he was different, in some ways. He had alarming self-control, for one. He was more sure of himself. The way he carried himself was strong and powerful, not to be messed with. He had built up a wall, one you had intended to help him tear down piece by piece. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t love you on your break, he had told you. It was the fact that he had loved you, and with his heightened senses he was scared that he wouldn’t be able to control himself around you. Just your smell, it drove him insane, he confessed. He explained to you that you were like a drug, and every way he wanted and needed you before he transformed, grew tenfold and consumed him. With his time away he grew satiated and more confident that he could control himself, never going as far to kill another human when he fed. 

Tonight was the night you finally convinced him to stay over in your dorm. 

It was refreshing. It was familiar. It was a little strange that your boyfriend’s familiar warmth was gone, but you were happy to be in his presence again. Because in those few months that he took to try to navigate his new identity, you never stopped loving him. It took him some convincing, but you let him know that you would love both the old Jeongin and the new Jeongin. Tonight, as you watch a comfort movie in his arms you’re encapsulated in the embrace of his non-beating heart. One that, according to him, loves you deeper and more intensely than the old one had capacity for. 

You kiss him. It’s hesitant, it’s soft, it contains so many emotions. He’s wiping away a tear that you didn’t know had slipped as he kisses you deeper. Your hands tug through his hair just the way he likes, and he’s out of breath so suddenly, He’s breathing hard, his chest evident of the laborious task that kissing you is. When your tongue dips into his mouth he moans into you. You feel a soft prick against your lips and then Jeongin is across the room, apart from you as if your skin had set him ablaze. His eyes are wide and he looks frantic, a hand on his chest as if to stop his heart from beating so fast though you both know that’s not the case. When your hand reaches your mouth to investigate, you see exactly what your boyfriend was so afraid of. Your blood. In the midst of your makeout session, he had accidentally pricked your lip with his fang, drawing blood. Not a lot, but enough to freak him out, evidently. 

“I–I’m so sorry,” he whispers. His voice trembles. 

You cross the room and meet your boyfriend. You reach your hand out to touch his face but he draws away. 

“I can’t… I’m going to hurt you,” he says. 

“You’re not going to hurt me, Innie. I know you. This is the same body you’ve touched a million times before, you know my body better than I do. I trust you… to be intimate with me, again. So, please,” you say, reaching your blood-soaked finger up to his lips. 

“Y/N… I’m afraid that I won’t be able to control myself,” he says, closing his eyes as if practicing restraint. 

“Then don’t.” You’re pushed against the bed at superhuman speed, his hips pressing into you hard. The offered finger is in his mouth and he’s unabashedly sucking the blood from it, letting out a filthy, guttural moan. Before you can question the man his lips are against yours again, sucking them into his mouth, drinking up the blood from the small wound he had given you. His tongue is all over yours and you can taste your copper substance on his mouth though it's not unpleasant. He breathes into you as if you are his lifeforce, his oxygen. Meanwhile, he ruts his hips against you over and over again, a bruising yet welcomed grip on your waist. 

“Feels good?” You ask, pulling away to look in his eyes. He’s panting, letting out little whimpers and looking absolutely wrecked. 

“S’good. You don’t even know. I can smell you, how wet you are for me from here. I can hear how fast your heart is beating just for me… And every time you touch me my skin feels like it’s on fire. I’m so sensitive… so hard,” he emphasizes with a harsh thrust against your clothed skin, “You’re literally heavenly. Intoxicating. The best thing I’ve ever felt. I need you. I’ve never needed anything more.” He looks scared that you might deny him, though you couldn’t in a million years imagine denying him, especially not now.

You spread your legs for him, allowing him the opportunity to slot between them. He pulls himself into you and moans as you spread wet open-mouthed kisses against his neck. You lick a stripe upwards from his collarbone to his jaw and he clutches you tight, hips stuttering. 

His hands are in your hair, embedded into your scalp and he pulls tight, baring your neck for him. Your moan is breathy and light as he presses his lips to your skin, not sinking his teeth into you like you had thought. He sucks harsh bruises into your neck and the offending area then softens each spot with his tongue. When he moves back to admire his handiwork, he smiles. You’re covered with large purple splotches all over. You’re his, undeniably so. 

He pulls off your shorts and underwear in one swift motion, maneuvering your hips and holding you upwards so that he has full access to your glistening core. He really was right about you being wet for him, and you don’t have time to be embarrassed by the statement he made of being able to smell it before he’s diving in, his face directly at your entrance. He wastes no time before licking, sucking, and swirling his tongue around you. 

“Too much, Innie, too fast!” You whine out, trying to push his head away. He doesn’t budge nor indicate that he felt your actions; you couldn’t move away from him. He was in control, and you, forced to take every ounce of pleasure he delegates. 

“Mm, baby… I’ve been away from this pussy for too long… God you taste so, so good.” A loud slurping sound comes from his mouth and you’re in the right mind to be embarrassed from such a filthy sound. You cover your face but your hand is by your side just as fast, his bruising grip around your wrist holding you in place. “Don’t,” he warns. “Want to see your face as I ruin you. Want to hear every moan, wanna hear your heart beat this fast just for me, baby.” He was adamant about getting you to fall apart for him on his tongue, and so you do; you cum on with a loud moan and he laps up your release and holds your trembling thighs in place with ease. 

As you look at him he wipes away the wetness on his face, eyes gazing into you. He freezes in place as you drop onto your knees in front of him and grab onto his waistband. 

“Are you sure?” He stammers, already affected by your small lingering touch. 

“We’ve been away for too long,” you say, repeating his words from earlier. “Need to taste your cock again.” You pull down his pants and reveal his length, hard and throbbing and begging to be touched. It’s already releasing precum from when he was grinding into you earlier, and you lap it up eagerly. His hand places a bruising grip in your hair, close to its roots, which encourages you to continue with your ministrations.  

“Shit,” he curses as you wrap your lips around him, flicking your tongue against his tip. “Baby your mouth feels so fucking good, so wet. God I could bust right now,” he says. He uses his hands to hold the sides of your head, guiding your mouth up and down his length, essentially letting him use your face like a toy for his pleasure. Your lips wrap around him and you let spit run down your face, coating your chin. You blink up at him through teary eyes and you know that you look probably just as wrecked as he does, the epitome of a perfect disaster created just for him. 

He bucks his hips into your face for a few seconds and then pulls away quickly. You drop to the floor, breathing heavily, looking up at the man. He pants and holds himself up against the bed with one arm, trying to ground himself. 

“Shit baby, I’ve never felt anything that good in my life…” He breathes. “Only you… But it feels better now, you feel so good… Let me fuck your pretty pussy, baby. Please.” He begs even though he doesn’t have to. He doesn’t have to ask you twice before you’re laying on the bed, legs spread open wide for him. Still sensitive from your previous orgasm, you whine as he pushes into you slowly. He’s long, just like you remember him, but he’s so hard and you can already feel him pulsing inside of you. As he bottoms out and his hips grind against your clit, you feel yourself contracting against his length. You two remain unmoving but the room already sounds so dirty just from your pathetic moans and heavy breathing. Your heart beats wildly in your chest and it makes you smile knowing he can hear it, that he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. 

He starts moving, slow but deep. Within four hard strokes he’s already releasing deep inside you, and you both gasp. In all the time you had been with him, he had never cum inside before–but now that he’s turned it doesn’t matter. As he fills you up you’re overflowing and he’s crying when you look at him. He moans vehemently but his hips aren’t slowing down; if anything, they speed up as he continues to fuck his release into you, sloppy and hard. He whines at the overstimulation he’s caused himself and looks like his pleasure is mixed with pain. His hips snap into you harder than anything you’ve ever felt before, the head of his cock pushing right against your g-spot every time. 

He reaches his fingers down and swipes up the release from where the two of you connect, gathering it on his fingers and bringing it to your mouth. It’s reminiscent of the scene just minutes ago, you think as you suck his release off of his fingers. His eyes are boring into yours and drinking up every reaction, every scrunch of your face and twitch of pleasure, and it drives you insane with both pleasure and desire to be so seen by someone you’re so in love with. 

You notice his hands gripping the edge of the bed, his knuckles ghost-white. 

“Bite me,” you say, suddenly. His hips stutter at your words, all confidence immediately gone. 

“What? I can’t–” 

“Jeongin, love, I trust you more than any other living soul on this planet,” you say through uneven breaths. “God, this body was yours before and it’s yours now. Stop holding back and make me yours again. Please,” You say. 

His teeth sink into your neck and you let out a sharp cry; you feel shock moreso than pain, and as he drinks languidly from your neck, taking just what he needs, you cum around his cock. His fingernails dig into your skin and his hips snap into yours brutally, ripping your orgasm out of you in the most intense spasm of pain and pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life. Adrenaline courses through your veins and your ears are ringing, blinded by the intensity of it all, because Jeongin isn’t holding back, because you’ve broken down his walls, you think as he cums into you for the second time that night. 

He laps up the remaining blood that has dribbled down your neck as his hips still into you and you still pulse around him from the aftershocks. When you look at him you're wiping his tears away, and he wipes away yours. 

“Thank you,” he says, holding you as close to his body as can possibly be. “You make me feel like I’m still human.” 

“That’s because you are,” you whisper into his hair. “Your humanity is something you never lost.” 

He hums in approval and you fall asleep in his arms that night, closer in mind and body than ever before.  ***  “I see you and I.N. got back together!” Your best friend laughs as the two of you walk to class together the next day. You haven’t told her anything, how would she know? She sees your shocked expression. “Look at your neck, geez, what is he, a vampire? God damn,” she emphasizes her words by pointing at the large bruises you did a poor job of covering up. You laugh at her words a little too hard, knowing that she will never know that she wasn’t that far off from the truth. That was a secret for you and Jeongin to share. *** Masterlist Recs

[inbabylontheywept]

how did you get married? how did you recover from the minion halloween and be able to look another human in the eyes? i could never i would wilt like a deflated wacky wavy balloon guy dipped in soy sauce then left in the nevadan summer

i think you're underestimating how tough you are. you probably haven't had a day quite as shit as the minion incident yet, and that's great, but the unfortunate thing i'm gonna tell you is that one day you will have a day that's worse. so much worse. one day, you will wake up, and you'll be going about your business, and you get a call only to learn that someone died.

the first time you get that call, it'll probably be a grandparent. and you'll get one or two, three tops more of those, and you'll think you're getting the hang of things, and then it will be your parents. then after that, and i am so sorry to hit you with this, it will be your siblings, or your spouse, or your friends. each round will feel like it killed you, and it won't be until the next that you realized the one before was a warning shot.

any one of those by itself is going to make the minion incident feel like the highschool shit that it was, and each time that happens, you're going to keep on living. you'll have a few weeks to grieve, but when it's done, you'll still have to go to work, and cook your own meals, and clean your own house. you'll still be alive. and maybe that's all you'll be for a while - alive - but you'll find ways to become more than that. you'll be up to your eyes with grief, and your coworker will stop you one day and just give you a hug, and you'll take it, because for once in your life you won’t be too proud to let someone care. or you'll be in your apartment, going to grab your mail, and your neighbor will be out there, and they'll wave to you a little, and maybe you never talked to them before, but you’ll have your chance to talk to them then. and you'll take it, because fuck, nothing makes you realize how much you have left to lose quite like loss.

i got married because the minion incident didn't destroy me. people don't get destroyed that often. if almost every makes it through burying their parents, then almost everyone could also survive showing up to a bootycall in yellow bodypaint and overalls. and yes, it was embarrassing, but the sun rose the next day, and i got up, and i brushed my teeth, and i went to school, and i cried a little at lunch when i told my academic decathlon friends about it, and they told me it wasn't my fault, and i told them that i knew that, it just sucked anyway. and they got it. and then the day after that was easier. and the day after that, easier still. and occasionally bad things happened, but even afterwards, life carried on. eventually, i graduated highschool. i went to college. i kept meeting interesting and kind people. i met my wife, and she was both, and i couldn't help but fall in love with her.

i got a little head start on seeing the way life goes on after a disaster, but not by much. i'm going to live through worse. you're going to live through worse. and every time the world ends, we're gonna wake up the day after, wash off the emotional vomit, and keep moving forward.

[puffycinnabunny]

How to cope with a bad grade (or a grade worse than your expectations)

Hello hello,

Cinna here! I am a third-year neural science major, so, needless to say, I had my share of academic failures. I am sure there are some people who managed to finish college with perfect grades, but, trust me, there aren't as many as you think. It's human to make mistakes! But it's also OK to be upset about your mistakes. Your value is not determined by your grades! Regardless, here are some tips and tricks to get things going after a big whoopsie daisy.

Give yourself some time to process: Does this mean crying? maybe. Blankly staring at a wall? Also possible. Let it sink in. This step can take a long time, don't feel guilty about the time spent. As I said, grades don't define you, and it is not the end of the world. BUT your feelings are valid! You are allowed to feel upset or even disappointed. Give yourself some time to do that but don't let your feelings about the situation define your feelings about yourself <3

Get a treat: Yeah yeah, so you messed up. But I usually allow myself some escapism before getting back on track. Watch an episode you have been waiting to watch after the exams. Get a cookie. Take a nap. Do SOMETHING that makes you secrete some serotonin.

Check your exam: Make sure to learn what you got wrong. It may feel like it is too late now, but it is NOT! Go speak to your TA or professor and learn what went wrong and why. This might be very valuable for the next exams! It also allows the teaching staff to see you are TRYING to improve. This can be a game changer for the final grade when they consider performance grades or if you ask for a recommendation letter.

Game plan: It happened. You faced it, you asked for help, and now it's time to plan how to improve. You don't have to follow each and every step but sketch out things to review and when. This will make you state your intention. Sometimes declaring you are gonna do something is more powerful than you think. It will also help you feel less overwhelmed when you are studying for the next exams.

The redemption arc: Be easy on yourself. A healthy amount of regret can push you forward, but don't let it burn you out. This is a marathon! If you are a stem student like me, chances are you have MANY midterms (too many, absolutely too many). This means you have your chance to fix this. Remember you haven't lost until you stop trying. Go ask for help from your friends. If they are at the same level of knowledge you can cross-examine the content to see if you are missing something. Trying to teach the content also helps you organize it better in your head which helps the learning process. If you are a lone wolf and don't like studying with others, try speaking to yourself aloud (it's not crazy behavior, sush). Stay hydrated and have healthy snacks around! Be consistent and hopeful. I'm sure things will go better during the next midterms. And if not, the other midterms. And if not, the other... midterms... GOd I have too many midterms...

I believe in you, buddy. You got this! Take some chubby pigeons that I found cute as a motivator (they believe in you too).