#so tired of feeling like I might be building something and then like a failure because it doesn’t last

[queerbrujas]

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[spookie-bitch]

Perfect To Me

Pairings: Lady Lesso x Fem!Reader Contains: Comfort, fluff TW: Age gap (legal ofc), perfectionism AN: Requests are open <3

You would've never considered yourself a perfectionist, or even an overachiever. You knew that nothing was perfect and that people made mistakes. Despite this, your subconscious seems to exclude you from said people, and your school work from said nothing.

Staring at the bird pecking in rankings, you’d usually be surprised that you went down a rank. However, today was different. You absolutely flunked the challenge in Professor Castor's class. You were so tired you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything but stare in despair.

Your name next to the 2 felt like a punch to the gut. The first to lose. The longer you stared at the rank, the more it sunk in, and the worse you started to feel. Anxiety started to wrack its way through your mind.

“Did everyone know?” “They probably thought I was pathetic.”

You ran your fingers through your messy hair, your hands shaking. The sleepless nights spent studying are shown in your disheveled appearance. You might have normally cared, but right now, you had bigger problems.

As you walk to your dorm room, every hushed voice and whisper felt personal. They were talking about you. They thought you were a failure. You felt like a failure.

Closing the wooden door behind yourself, you feel tears of shame and irritation build in your eyes. You refused to let them fall—crying wouldn't fix it.You leaned your back against the door, sliding down until you were sitting on the cold floor. The room was silent, but your mind was anything but. A million thoughts raced through your head, each one louder than the last.

You buried your face in your hands, trying to steady your breathing. You couldn’t let this break you. You had to get up, keep going, prove that you weren’t a failure.

Pushing yourself up and off the floor, you grab one of the textbooks on your bedside dresser. As you plop down on the bed, you open the textbook to the page marked by your notes. You spend the whole night going over them. Hours tick by and the pages start to blur together into a heap of meaningless words. Despite your best efforts, you can't seem to retain a single thing you've read.

Your eyes grow heavy and begin to burn as the first rays of morning light shine through the window. You hear the soft hum of activity outside your dorm room as the campus starts to wake up. You shut your eyes tightly, rubbing your forehead in a worthless attempt to soothe your oncoming headache.

You get up with a groan, putting your books back into your bag. You change into a fresh pair of clothes, not bothering to brush your hair or really do anything else. You were so drained that you didn't care how disheveled you looked.

“At least now I look how I feel,” you thought to yourself, glancing into the mirror.

A few minutes later, you make your way to your first class of the day, your mood only worsening by the looks cast in your direction. The day only got worse from there, if that was even possible at this point. By your fourth class, you were ready to quit.

“Let them turn me into a tea kettle,” you thought, “at least nobody would expect anything of me.”

You found the corner of the dimly lit hallway, your shoes clicking on the stone of the floor. You did not want to deal with Lesso today. You always felt weird around her and you didn't like it.

Sitting in your seat near the front of the class, you were almost sure she would comment on your appearance. She was blunt, and spoke her mind, but to your surprise, she said nothing. She merely glanced at you, something you couldn't recognize flickering behind her emotionless eyes.

“Probably disgust,” you thought to yourself, your eyes lingering on her for a moment longer.

Five minutes into the lesson you zoned out so hard you could no longer hear the clicking of Lesso��s cane as she paced around the front of the room. What you did hear, was the loud thwack of the cane hitting your desk, pulling you out of your daze.

“Pay attention, Miss y/n,” scolded Lesso, the only noticeable emotion detectable in her voice being mild annoyance. And then she went on with the lesson. You’d expected her to send you to the doom room or something, but you were let off with a gentle scolding.

You zoned out again, wondering why you hadn't gotten in more trouble. Lesso wasn't exactly known to be nice, or even lenient. You were more than sure she saw that you still weren't paying any attention, but she didn't acknowledge it.

You didn't hear when the wolves howled, signaling the start of your trek to your next class, too busy in your own head.

A quiet voice broke through the fog. “Shouldn’t you be heading to your next class?” You looked up, blinking as Professor Lesso stood before you, her gaze sharp yet strangely soft.

“Oh, I’m- I'm sorry professor, I-”

“Are you okay?” She cut your stuttered out sentence off with three words you never thought you'd hear from her lips. You could hear something alien in her voice—concern. It was faint, but it was there. You started to feel weird, her presence starting to fully register.

You swallowed, feeling the weight of the question press down on you. Your chest tightened.

“I'm- I'm fine,” You finally said, your voice barely a whisper. It didn't sound believable, not even to your own ears.

“You don’t look fine.” Her tone wasn't harsh, but it was firm. You could tell by the way she said it that she wasn't looking at you, but rather in you. It made your face flush, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable.

“I just…” you started, your voice wavering as you tried to find the right words. “I’m tired. I messed up. She knelt slightly, bringing herself closer to your level, her posture uncharacteristically open.

“You push yourself so hard, y/n. Too hard,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. The way she spoke your name made your breath hitch. There was an unexpected protective edge in her tone that made your heart skip a beat.

She reached out, her fingers brushing lightly against your cheek. You found yourself wanting to lean into the touch, but you resisted the urge. Lesso’s thumb grazed your skin, and you could feel your pulse quicken. She was so close, closer than she’d ever been, and you could feel the tension between you, thick and electric.

Her touch was gentle, almost hesitant, as though she was unsure if you’d let her in. The contact was soft, but charged with something unspoken.

“You don't have to be perfect,” she murmured, her thumb tracing gentle patterns along your cheek. You found yourself learning closer, pulled in by the intoxicating blend of strength and gentleness that made you feel both safe and unsteady all at once.

Her breath fanned softly against your skin, your heart pounding.

“Lesso…” you whispered. You weren't exactly sure what you were asking for, but the way she looked at you—like you were something precious and fragile—made you want it more. She didn't respond with words. Instead, she closed the distance between you, her lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss.

You melted into her, your hands finding their way to her collar, pulling her closer. With her hand still on your cheek, she cups your jaw and tilts your head back ever so slightly, deepening the kiss. Her touch was gentle and soothing, so much so it brought tears to your eyes.

As Lesso's lips left yours, the warmth of the kiss still lingering on your lips, you felt a tear trickle down your face. Then another, and another. Lesso gently wiped the tears with her thumb, her face softening. With her other hand, she gently grabs your wrist and tenderly tugs you out of your seat, standing up straight.

She wrapped her arms around you, pulling you into her chest.

“It’s okay,” she whispered into your hair, her voice gentle and reassuring. You let your tears fall, silently sobbing into her chest. After what felt like forever, but you were sure it was no longer than five minutes You sniffled, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

“You’re perfect to me,” Lesso whispered, her thumb grazing your cheek again. Her arms tightened around you, as if trying to shield you from everything. “You're enough, sweet girl.”

[i-write-boop-spoops]

Professor Sycamore Proposal and Wedding Headcanons

so.... instead of festive headcanons, yall get this!! frick, when did it become february?

features: gn! reader, fluff, mentions of alcohol and cigarettes and very minor reference to sex

not proofread lol

owo what’s this? a classic boopy headcanon??

Sycamore is DIVORCED

So he has a lot of anxiety about marriage

When his last one crumbled, he felt like a failure, even though it was a mutual decision

After that, he wasn’t even sure if he wanted to get marrid again

Like, could he really find someone to spend his life with? Was that even possible?

But then he met you

And suddenly, he liked the sound of wedding bells again

You’re together for about two or three years when he feels his ring finger starting to itch

Needing the cool metal of a wedding band to soothe it

Being with you, living with you… it was like the puzzle piece his life was missing

He wants to see that smile of yours for the rest of his life

The proposal HAS to be special

Because you’re special

And you make him feel special

You two have so many special memories together

Luckily, he’s a romantic, so he has an incredible idea

He’s going to take you on a walk down memory lane

Literally

To places that mean the world to the both of you

It starts at your shared apartment of course

You come home from work, to find your beloved wearing a chic suit (the top shirt buttons undone, of course)

He tells you he has a surprise, and that you should put on a nice (but easy to wander in) outfit

It’s not the first time he’s done something like this, so you’re not suspicious of anything just yet

And off you go on your grand adventure!

Having dinner at the restaurant you spent your first anniversary at

Getting dessert at your favourite little café

Laughing about the time you both dropped your ice cream while you stroll through the park

And all sorts of other memories

He’s nervous the whole time, but the excitement wins out

You just look so beautiful, his heart skips a beat every time he glances over at you

He wants to marry you SO BAD!

The walk culminates at the bridge you shared your first kiss at

At this point, you’ve kinda sussed out what his plan is

And boy!

You’ve never been more giddy with excitement

Honestly, if you found out he wasn’t proposing, you’d be disappointed

He takes your hand as you look across the river, the city lights dancing in the water

The speech he gives you is equal parts romantic and heartfelt

Just poetry

You’re trembling the entire time

He gets on one knee

His bones click but ignore that

And presents you with a velvet box

A gorgeous, classic ring inside

He doesn’t even have a chance to finish asking the big question before your arms are around him and you’re shouting “Yes! Yes!”

He’s in disbelief by your reaction

I mean, he knew you’d say yes… but he didn’t expect you to be this enthusiastic

You really do love him, and that makes him feel so happy and blessed

Wedding planning is a bit hectic, since Augustine is very involved BUT also very busy and tired with work

Do you get into silly fights over dumb things like what canapes to serve? Probably

But do you make up like two seconds after? Yes

Your invites are so elegant (art deco perhaps?), and they are rose scented!

In terms of the wedding, it’s gonna be a small but classy affair

Not super traditional, but definitely romantic and stylish

Depending on what point of the timeline it is, he might not even have a best man

Because he’d want it to be Lysandre eek

The ceremony itself would be held in one of the many beautiful, historic buildings in Lumiose

Somewhere full of art and culture and beauty and life

Maybe somewhere like the art gallery? The theatre? The botanical gardens?

Wherever it is, you KNOW Sycamore’s vows will be the most romantic prose

The heartfelt, genuine words that fall from his lips are the stuff of fairytales

It would make the most jilted, stone-hearted person  believe in love again

The whole time, he’s trembling with emotion

His hands are holding yours, his eyes gazing at you with such fondness and admiration

There will be tears

From you, from him, from everyone

Speaking of…

The guest list is STACKED

Despite it only being a few dozen people

It’s like a Pokémon conference crashed into your nupitals

Diantha, Steven Stone, Wallace, Cynthia… a whole host of professors

Your now-husband is well-connected that’s for sure

Expect AMAZING wedding presents

The dress-code is cocktail

Perfect for the cocktail hour

I wouldn’t be surprised if the two of you chose to wear cocktail attire for your ceremony as well as the reception

But you could also stick to more formal/traditional options for the whole event, or switch to your more casual looks after pictures

no matter what option, he WILL find a way to show off a little chest

The reception could be held in a myriad of places

A rooftop in the city, a grand manor in Laverre City, a ballroom in Hotel Richissime

Wherever it’s held, there will be a very Kalosian sounding band playing the whole time

The Champagne will be flowing and plentiful

And there will be SO many flowers

You get those really aesthetic black and white photos taken ah! i love those!

Just saying… your first dance will be so beautiful

Graceful and romantic, you two gliding together as one

It’s Kalos, so you KNOW the meal will be delicious and rich and indulgent

I can totally see the two of you ditching the cake for a round of delicious pastries for everyone

Ones filled with berry curd or cream or chocolate ganache or frangipane

Just exquisite little pockets of joy

At some point, yourself and Augustine slip away to somewhere quiet

A balcony perhaps?

So you two can share a moment together, just the two of you, as pouses

Officially!

And so he can have a quick ciggy

As the evening goes on (and your hubby gets tipsier)

You’re on the dance floor again, but much less gracefully this time

It really devolves from a classy affair to a bunch of drunk friends having a good time

Which honestly? Was exactly how it should end

Well that, and your magical first night together as newlyweds ;)

[im-a-marion3tt3]

To Much

Phantom needs a break. Tw for unintentionally sh. This is kinda shitty but I needed to write something.

Tour was hard on everyone, all the ghouls and papa eventually only looked forward to going home. This was especially the case for Phantom. The stage lights had stopped being awe-inducing and now only gave him a migraine and stress. His fingers felt far more brittle as he played his guitar; the ache never seemed to leave anymore.

The end of the performance came sooner than he realized, mainly because he had zoned out after the second song, thinking about when he would finally get to go to bed. Even as he bows and heads off stage, his mind isn't fully there, finding it easier to cope with his exhaustion in this state of mind. That is until he gets confronted.

"Phantom, what the hell were you doing tonight?" Dewdrop snapped after they had changed out of their show clothes. He looked tired and pissed off, his hair looking much more messy than normal. They all were too tired at this point, a long nap and going home were over due.

"I played, what the fuck are you talking about?" Phantom muttered back, rolling his eyes as he ran a hand through his hair. He did have the energy for a fight right now but if that's what Dew wanted, he give him one.

"Yeah, you played but you sure as hell didn't perform! You're not some baby and more, you have to fucking pull your weight now. Jesus, why did Aether have to fucking leave, this is ridiculous!"

"Then get him back and I'll fucking leave! So sorry your Highness that my best isn't good enough anymore!" Phantom spat out before storming out of the venue before anyone could even try and stop him. He blended in with the shadows as soon as he hit the streets, making sure his demon form was concealed.

And just like that, he was gone. Having followed the sidewalk to a brightly lit up building. It smelled bad in his head but it would do for now. Here, he could nap unbothered. Phantom curled up behind a dumpster and quickly fell asleep, cold and uncomfortable but happy to finally get the sleep he so desperately craved. Dew's words rang in his ears, maybe it would be better if he was gone, then they could get Aether back.

Copia took longer getting ready to leave, having more to do and had to make sure the clergy knew of what went wrong during the performance. By the time he finally was ready to leave and met up with his ghouls, he noticed there was a stiff and uncomfortable whispering. Copia didn't know what happened but didn't really care, they were always up to something. Except, he started to get a little more nervous when he took a head count and found them to be one short. Phantom.

Shortly after, a screaming match started, fingers being pointed all while Copia looked on, a heart broken look on his face. He loved all of his ghouls and to hear the one away made him feel like a failure and question why he had ever been put in charge.

It was Mountain who realized Copia's facial expression. He hadn't joined in the fight either, being far to concerned that there was a little ghoul wandering the cold city streets alone. Carefully, he pulled Copia into a hug, holding him close to his chest.

"Just shut up!" Mountain eventually barked, a glare resting on his face as at the other ghouls with a frustrated expression, his horns sticking through his glamour as thorns started to grow off of them. He proceeded to yell at the group at how it was everyone's fault for letting him leave, for making him feel unwanted and for hurting papa in such a way. He had trusted them and they broke that trust. Thinking on his feet, he quickly paired them up and sent them out, figuring such a younger ghoul couldn't have gotten far. Mountain left Dew behind with Copia though, feeling as though Phantom might not want to see him.

It was Aurora who found him, curled up and still crying softly, a piece of glass in his hand and a small puddle of blood on the pavement. She noted that the blood came from his palm, he had most likely crushed something made of glass.

"Phantom! Oh for Hell's sake we've been worried sick," she muttered kneel down next to him and carefully grabbing his wrist to look at this hand. Phantom was not having it though, he snapped his hand out of hers.

"Jus g-go away," he stuttered out, something he only did when feeling big emotions. It made Aurora frown though, unsure of how to actually help him. So, she simply picked him up and tossed his over her shoulder, uncaring of his fighting. She was stronger than him by far and she was scared for it.

Phantom fought the entire way back to the building, noticing that their bus had already pulled up. Great, now everyone would be mad at him, he thought, a fresh wave of tears coming. It was a great surprise to him that instead of getting yelled at he felt arms yank him from Aurora and hug him tightly. It was papa.

"You simply cannot run off like that. You are but a kit still and had us all worried sick," Copia said in his thickly accidented voice as he held Phantom close. Phantom just held him back, crying softly into his shoulder, uncaring of the blood that got onto Copia. He just wanted to feel loved and needed right now.

"I know sometimes we say too much and feel too much but we all love you," Mountain said softly, having come in recently though stayed silent. He knew the other ghoul needed to feel loved and no one but Copia could heal the wounds from Dewdrops words.

[blognova]

How to actually follow through with your goals

Last year I’ve set myself the goal to workout 3 times a week and go to dance practice twice a week and I’ve managed to pull though for the entire year. Here’s a list of everything I did to reach my goal aswell as tips

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

In case you don’t have a vision board and aren’t sure about your goals click here to see my guide on vision boards(which you can also use for just goals without vision boarding)

1.set realistic goals.

If you normally don’t work out regularly and suddenly you want to go to the gym every day, you will be able to uphold this for some days maybe even weeks but eventually you’ll tire out and lose motivation. You are setting yourself up for failure Instead set more realistic goals.

If you rarely work out but want to change that start slow, maybe go to the gym (or do at home workouts of course!) twice a week for 30 min each.This way you’ll feel yourself being productive but not being consumed by it. Start slow and eventually work yourself up

Slow and steady wins the race

✧ Nova‘s Tip: I really enjoyed this workout while I was a beginner ໒꒰ྀི *' ᵕ '* ꒱ྀིა Move with Nicole in general has really good workouts(with and without equipment) in different styles.Definitely check her out if you want to try Pilates.

2.Motivation Consistency

This might be a hard pill to swallow for some but motivation won’t get you your results( at least in most cases). Mainly because motivation is a feeling and feelings are always changing,evolving. Yes you might get a sudden blaze of motivation and get up to do your 12 missing assignments or lift really heavy but that’s a one time thing. You can’t get results doing stuff once, you need a routine If you actually want to build a routine you need to stick to it and you can only do that by staying consistent. Consistency isn’t something that’s easy to achieve but it’s absolutely necessary if you want to see results in any area of your life.

So how do you stay consistent?

Don’t be to hard on yourself, you can start out small ( once a week) and then add onto it over time

Make it enjoyable( if you don’t like one form of exercise switch it up, if you don’t like a specific food in your diet switch it out etc)

If you really can’t get yourself to workout, go for a walk (you are still active and your brain gets the signal that you are actively choosing to become healthier)

Make it easy for yourself. If you hate flossing but want to do it, place the floss somewhere where you have to take it before getting your toothbrush( you already have it in your hand might as well use it) Pack your gym clothes the night before or lay them out, that way you can put them on first thing and are ready to go

✧ Nova‘s Tip: if you have a day where you can only give 30% and you give those 30%, you still gave 100% Recognise that you deserve better and love yourself enough to do what it takes. Even if you don’t feel up for it , do it. Success doesn’t wait for you feeling like it

┊🖇💌 ꒱. I hope this helped you and if you have any questions or things you want me to cover in the future feel free to ask, wishing you the best Nova 💋

[loosesodamarble]

The Gogyō Guardians

Like how Western philosophy has the four classical elements of Fire, Water, Earth, and Air which are considered necessary for life, so too does Eastern philosophy have necessary elements for life. In Chinese wu xing, known as gogyō in Japan, the base elements for life are wood, water, fire, metal, and earth.

I imagine that Hino has elemental spirits much like the spirits found on the Suit continent, based on the Four Symbols in Chinese belief (they're call the Four Symbols but there is a fifth, just go with it). The five spirits are Seiryuu (Azure Dragon), Genbu (Black Tortoise), Suzaku (Vermillion Bird), Byakko (White Tiger), and Ouryuu (Yellow Dragon/Kirin).

And like the spirits of the Suit Continent, the spirits of Hino have human partners. Or they will.

The ocs I'm introducing here are mages of Hino still training to be partners for the five elemental spirits of their land.

..........

Hisui Shirazaki

Hisui's name is written as 翡翠 and means "jade," like the precious stone. Her family name, 白崎, means "white peninsula."

Age: 22

Birthday: October 30

Magic Attribute: Platinum/白金

Appearance: Hisui is a tall woman with fair skin. Her hair is black, reaches her mid-back, and has a rough texture with causes it to tangle easily. Her eyes are a dark grey color.

Personality: Hisui is a woman who loves to tease those close to her. She's proud of her abilities and is eager to act when she can. Enthusiastic and experimental, she's never afraid to try something new even when told of how dangerous it might. Firmly believes that as long as she's got her mind set to something, it'll inevitably work out in her favor. As a result, she also comes off as incredibly stubborn. She won't throw out an idea she's tried every possible way to make it work. Doesn't allow herself to get into a funk or stop working though and instead will find something else to do to distract herself from her failure.

She is the oldest of Kohaku's siblings. She knows that all her siblings admire her and works hard to be a good example. She does have a habit of patronizing them when they try to match her level, reminding them (especially Kohaku) of the gap in their respective experience. Among the Gogyō Guardians, she butts heads with Hibiki a lot since both have don't like to not get their way. She thinks Takuan is a pushover at times but admits that he gives excellent advice. She and Yoshisumi get along as she forges the weapons that he uses and both agree on taking pride in their abilities. Tsurumihime feels like a mystery to her but finds it in herself to trust the other woman's judgements.

Like her parents, Hisui works as a weapon smith and is very skilled at it. Her goal is to someday forge an unbreakable weapon.

Byakko is a relaxed spirit, content to watch others work rather than get involved itself. Given its overwhelming power, it refrains from showing off. It likes Hisui's enthusiasm and would gladly watch her run herself ragged on a project.

Tsurumihime Akayama

Tsurumihime's given name is written as 鶴魅姫. The character's (in order) mean "crane," "charm," and "princess." 朱山 is her family name and means "vermillion mountain."

Age: 21

Birthday: July 26

Magic Attribute: Fire/火

Appearance: Tsurumihime is a young woman with a short stature and slim build. She's often described as being built like a reed. Her hair is ink black and perfectly smooth. She grew it out to reach past her hips though she frequently does it up in complex buns. Her eyes are a silvery grey color.

Personality: Tsurumihime is a sweet and outgoing woman. As a serious extrovert, Tsurumi feels more energized when she's around people. The warmth of others gives her life in a way as whenever she finds herself alone, she's gloomy and tired. She loves being around others and learning about them. She wants to know about others so she can make them happy. While she is generally quite giving, Tsurumi has a bit of an ego as a celebrity and likes being complimented.

Tsurumihime does her best to get along with everyone and believes that she does manage to do so. She likes Hisui and Hibiki's driven personalities and the ladies can agree that the act of creation for their professions makes them happy. Tsurumihime thinks that Yoshisumi is good for taking pride in his skills but also encourages him to actually learn while they're in Clover. She wishes Takuan would speak up for himself more but appreciates how he's able to appreciate so much.

Tsurumihime works as a performer, singing and dancing and playing a variety of instruments. One could easily compare her to an idol in Hino.

Tsurumihime and Suzaku get along very well. Suzaku is highly entertained by Tsurumi's skills and likes to chat with the young woman. They miss each other while Tsurumi is in Clover.

Hibiki Kurobayashi

日々喜 is the writing for Hibiki's name and the kanji mean "sun," a repetition symbol, and "joy." Her family name is written as 黒林 and means "black forest."

Age: 19

Birthday: February 28

Magic Attribute: Water/水

Appearance: Light grey eyes which are noted to be particularly large and sparkly. Her hair is black and is cut short, right before her shoulders.

Personality: At first, Hibiki comes off as an airhead. She's upbeat and cracks a lot of jokes and has a bad track record when it comes to remembering the things that other people tell her. Getting to know her a bit more makes it clear that she's actually passive-aggressive, willingly ignoring things she doesn't like and not taking people seriously when they bother her (except for Hisui, she challenges Hisui very seriously). Hibiki wants to maintain a "friendly" image with people and so has learned to be underhanded when it comes to dealing with her negative feelings. She uses her food as a way to communicate, giving dishes with unusual (read: bad) flavor combinations to people she's having an argument with and giving delicious food as peace offerings later.

Hibiki respects Hisui deeply but also finds her a bother since they get in each other's way often. She like Takuan but mostly because she can easily talking him into going along with her plans. Surprisingly, she's very friendly with Yoshisumi as, even with their strong personalities, they don't disagree on a lot of things the way she and Hisui do. Hibiki likes Tsurumihime well and even goes to her to when she feels stressed.

Hibiki is a professional chef in Hino. She learned from Fumito at a young age but quickly surpassed him in skill. She looks forward to learning about cuisine on the Suit Continent during the exchange program.

Genbu's peaceful, go-with-the-flow personality contrasts with Hibiki's demanding one which often leads to disagreements. Genbu would like for Hibiki to relax more but understands that she's still early in her adulthood.

Yoshisumi Kogane

Yoshisumi's name, written as 義墨, means "justice" and "ink." 黄金, the writing of his family name, means "yellow" and "metal."

Age: 24

Birthday: August 24

Magic Attribute: Earth/土

Appearance: His hair is pitch black which is long enough to reach his shoulder blades. The front of his hair is parted into side bangs that frame his face while the back of his is tied back near the ends. His eyes are a dark grey which sometimes look black.

Personality: Yoshisumi is a proud individual who is very set in his ways. He is a natural talent and fast learner so he hold his abilities in high regard and can, more often than not, back up his claims of strength. He strongly believes in the ways of Hino culture. He doesn't see the point of learning from other cultures since his nation has been able to survive and flourish on its own. He's a believer that everyone should be able to provide for themselves and that the weak are destined to fade away. He eventually learns that there's value in learning from others and helping them.

Yoshisumi gets along well with Hisui and Hibiki. While their arguments annoy him, their strong wills are admirable to him. He likes Hisui a little more as she provides him with weapons to use in battle. Takuan's ideology clashes with Yoshisumi's own so they have trouble coming to agreements, but since Takuan doesn't put up much of a fight against Yoshisumi, he tolerates the monk. He has the most trouble getting along with Tsurumihime as her open-heartedness and open-mindedness makes her susceptible to manipulation in his opinion.

Yoshisumi is a samurai. He's not at the level of being a member of the Ryūzen Seven but it's believed that he will achieve that rank once he's officially partnered with Ouryuu.

Ouryuu is a stern individual who values work and merit above all else. It doesn't take kindly to either boasting of one's self or criticism of others until the speaker can prove their worth. As such, Ouryuu's opinion of Yoshimine isn't the best.

Ouryuu means "yellow dragon" but Ouryuu's form is meant to be that of a kirin.

Takuan Seiki

沢庵 is how his given name is written and the kanji mean "marsh" and "hut." It's also the name of a Buddhist priest from the Sengoku period. His family name, 青燬, means "blue/green" and "blaze."

Age: 20

Birthday: May 18

Magic Attribute: Tree/木

Appearance: Black eyes like obsidian and equally black hair which is kept short, only being long enough to cover his nape. He's got a slender figure, often being described as a willow.

Personality: Takuan is a relaxed person. He takes life slowly and wants to appreciate all the little beauties that he sees in the world. To Takuan, there is at least a small amount of good in everything that exists, whether, though in what way is different for each thing. Deeply thoughtful, he treads through interactions carefully to avoid misunderstandings and hurt feelings. Though quiet, he can also be rather direct in his approach. He doesn't like to presume people's feelings and so if he's trying to do right by a person, he asks them what exactly they'd like. He does his best to help others by advising them.

Takuan finds Tsurumihime the most agreeable of his fellow Gogyō Guardians. Hibiki comes next though her tendency to steamroll past others gets on his nerves. Yoshihime's pride and Hisui's stubbornness make them the tied for the position of "most difficult" to handle. Still, he cannot deny that they're all incredible talented people who deserve recognition. Given that their group is full of strong personalities, he's fallen into the role of peacemaker.

Takuan is a monk, spending his time reading religious texts and practicing meditation. He writes also poetry, mostly to bring peace of mind, but is also quite good at it. Though he believes he'll never be as skilled as his teacher.

Seiryuu is ill-tempered and always ready to pick a fight, physical or verbal. He's always criticizing his host and doesn't approve of Takuan being his next partner, but they seem destined to team up.

[dragonbleps]

Okay SO, it's a wall of text, so don't feel obligated to read it :'D

TL;DR-- fixing 2 sprinklers took all day for various reasons due to a couple mistakes/accidents, and we still have 2 more to do. I'm tired. And not exactly sure why I'm supposed to want to own a house when there's all this pain-in-the-ass maintenance.

Dad took today off so we could fix one (1) sprinkler that we knew was broken. I woke up at about 10am and after feeding the dogs we immediately went to work.

First, I cleaned out the "globe", the part that would normally house the filter for the water, except someone stole ours ages ago for some bizarre reason. It was disgusting :) I've never seen so many colors of algae in the same place.

Then dad went to turn the sprinkler sections on one by one to check if there were any other sprinklers that needed fixing. It's a finicky process because apparently some part of the switch already doesn't work and dad has just kind of Dealt With It, and the sprinklers sections can't really be manually turned on one by one. More like, turn one on, turn it off, wait for the water pressure to build back up again, turn it on, and hope you waited long enough for it to activate the next section rather than the one you just got done checking.

There are 5 sections of sprinklers. After going through 4 sections, we found 4 sprinklers that weren't working correctly. 2 were just not spraying water at all, which is less of an issue. 1 was not coming out of the sprinkler head correctly and was just flooding the sidewalk. And the last 1 was just shooting water straight up because the sprinkler head was completely missing. (Sometimes if the lawn guys run it over with their lawnmower, the blades just chew it up and we're not notified either bc they don't want to tell us or they just dont notice.)

Dad went to switch to the 5th sprinkler section, and nothing happened. None of the sprinklers came up at all. He figured it was a failure to switch that was the issue, apparently something that'd gone wrong with it before. It was at this point he called an irrigation professional, planning on having him look at both the switching device (idk wtf it's called) and possibly replace the sprinklers that were broken.

We had to clean up a corner of the garage (which we messily use for storage) to make it easily accessible for the sprinkler guy. He arrived just as we were finishing up sweeping the area. He went to check the pump area and showed us how the globe was cracked. And, in fact, it had only JUST cracked, he said, because the slightest crack will prevent suction and water flow. So, literally as dad was switching from the 4th section to the 5th section, the globe cracked.

He attempted a quick fix of applying glue to the crack, which KIND of worked? But not for very long, and we'd have to prime the pump every time we'd want to use it, to help it along. Dad understandably didn't want that.

Sprinkler Guy doesn't have the right globe for replacement in his truck, but knows where to get one. Dad says okay. Guy says it might take about an hour, and leaves.

He comes back roughly an hour later with the part, installs it, then we check each section of sprinklers again. They work (well, aside from the ones that are broken of course). Mom comes home from work in the meantime and goes inside. Sprinkler guy gets paid for his work, leaves, and we go inside to rest for a moment.

We have to go to Home Depot to look for sprinkler heads to replace the ones that are broken. We decide to also eat dinner while we're out. So we go to Home Depot, go to eat food, then go back home.

Me and dad go outside and start digging up the 2 sprinklers that need the most immediate fix. Dad gets a shovel/spade thing and starts shoveling, while I get my gardening spades to get in closer around the sprinkler. Dad can't bed down, so I'm kneeling or sitting on the pavement doing this. While digging up one sprinkler, we found a separate unattached sprinkler head in the dirt next to it? Like whoever have replaced it previously had just left the old one buried in the dirt rather than throwing it away.

So we get the 2 main sprinklers dug out and removed, and pull out the sprinkler head replacements. And they're the wrong size.

Dad has to go back to Home Depot while I wait and try not to make eye contact to people going on walks who are walking by the two gaping dirt holes in our lawn. It was starting to get dark.

Dad gets back and we finally start replacing the two sprinkler heads. One was rather straightforward, although it was a pain in the ass to get it to screw on straight. Then we have to replace the dirt, and put the concrete donut back in place, continuing to put dirt and sod tucked in close to everything so it doesn't move.

The second one had a part of the previous sprinkler broken off into the pipe. I try for probably 10 minutes to try to get the piece out with what tools I had, but it was stuck tight. Cylinder inside a cylinder, yknow. I go back inside, grab a couple of knives bc idk which is best for cutting the pipe, and ask my mom to come outside and bring a flashlight to hold.

Dad starts cutting the pipe, mom's holding the flashlight, and finally the pipe gets cut and we can start putting the new sprinkler in place. Same as last time, dirt and sod and the concrete donut back in place.

Then we could finally go and check the sprinklers again, switching them on and off and trying to get each section to come on so we could make sure we put the new ones in right. They came on, and the sprinklers were all put in the correct direction. The only thing we'd have to change is the distance which the water from the sprinkler covers. It shoots too far haha

Came inside, dad took his shower, I took my shower, I fed the dogs, and now I'm finally able to chill for the night =u=

He wants to change the sprinkler distance tomorrow, and I think he might want to replace the last two sprinklers tomorrow, too. We'll see.

[anothersadbean]

it’s been 18 days since my last post about you. i’m not even sure what’s kept me from talking about you.

things haven’t exactly been easy, there’s been plenty to talk about. but honestly i’m just so tired. i’m just so fucking tired.

you’ve been moved back to the hospital temporarily, they want to do a procedure on you to help drain some of the excess fluid build up in your body.

see, some of the things i’ve learnt, is that liver failure fucking sucks, so many things are connected to it. and essentially, this procedure they’re doing for you, is just something else they’re doing to prolong your life.

some days i am so thankful for modern medicine and how it has given me this extra time with you, but then i see things like this, and how your body is giving up slowly, and it’s becoming even more of a harsh reality.

i visited you in the hospital, the same hospital where it all began, it’s so surreal. you’ve been in rehab for 8 weeks, so it’s been a while since you’ve actually been at the hospital.

i cried driving home yesterday, it’s the first time i’ve visited you alone in weeks. i cried because like i mentioned above, as much as i’m glad you’re still here, we don’t have valuable time together, it’s confined to a hospital room where i try and do what i can to make it a good visit. i don’t let you know how drained i am, and how i wish this was over to an extent.

i don’t want you life to be over, but just this. the uncertainty, your life constantly hanging in the balance, trying to find a home for you, which we picked out a great one, and now they’re being painful. i just want you settled, you want you settled.

i cried again once i got home, i was talking to a friend and she was complaining about a head cold and how it made her so fatigued, god i wish i had that kind of fatigue. it’s so hard to listen to people and their mundane lives when every day i’m just there for you, supporting you through end of life. no one understands, and i feel like people are getting sick of me talking about it. they’ll ask me how i am, i say i’m fine and then start talking about you, and then they ask me again how i am, and i honestly don’t really know how to answer.

how am i? tired. confused. anxious. on the edge every single fucking day. but i’m still showing up. i’m still here.

even jay is noticing something is up, he asks me what’s up, and i just start crying. like i dunno man, i’m tired. and every single day we have something to do, every single day for the last 4 months has just been crazy.

4 months, i can’t believe we’re approaching 4 months since your admission.

i’m hoping you’ll be settled somewhere for christmas, because fucking hell, this might be our last one together, and i just want you settled.

[alparlaboratories]

To Another Abyss - Chapter 30: Generator

(Chapters -which are usually between 500-1000 words- will be posted daily here first on Tumblr, and will later be posted in 7-8 chapter batches on AO3.)

-

Kanto has changed a lot in the past ten years. The League is no more, and trainers are now only tools for the rich and powerful, either mercenaries or dogs of the government.

Sabrina is the latter. She is to play the role of Gym leader in a sick, twisted mockery of the art she once admired, bearing the name of her childhood idol, a woman who is now wanted across the region. All for the entertainment of Kanto’s shadowy new rulers.

It’s a role she doesn’t mind playing. At least until an unusual challenger comes into her Gym, into the life she’s worked so hard to build, and begins to unravel it all.

-

Chapter 30 - Generator:

“H-hey…?”

Sabrina took a step toward him, doubtful. The man didn’t speak, simply formed a small, tired smile. A smile that knew a lot, that perhaps knew it all.

Suddenly, speaking became horribly difficult for her.

“W-we can’t stop here, they’ll reach us any s-”

All conscious thought left Sabrina as she saw him fall as though in slow motion, one knee giving in first, then another. She jumped to catch him without hesitation. His head was inches from hitting the ground when she slid beneath him, acting as his cushion.

“He… hehe… I can feel my face going all red. Having a girl stop my fall like that…”

A twisting, gnashing horror tore through Sabrina’s entrails, as though they were being devoured from the inside, leaving her empty, hollow.

She didn’t understand. Her eyes studied him from head to toe; he was a bit bruised and scratched, sure, but none of his wounds were that serious. But his hand… he was pressing it against his side… The Nidoqueen’s slash? It’d been barely a scratch, nothing that could-

Her eyes widened with the cold, cruel realization.

“Do you see now, Sabrina? At the most critical moment, when it truly mattered, you doubted him! You chose to believe me! And now it’s too late, no matter what you do!”

The young man formed that sad, apologetic smile again.

“The… poison…” Sabrina muttered.

Panic flooded her nerves. This-this level of desperation was foreign to her; she wasn’t used to being worried, to fear, not even for her own life. Indifference toward everything had become second nature to her. A shield to keep her safe. Devoid of it…

“It’s alright,” she said, trying to sound and appear calm despite every inch of her body shaking like a leaf. “It’s alright. I know someone who’s good at dealing with poisons. She won’t be happy to have customers at this hour, and it might not be… the safest option, but it’s our best shot right now.”

“Sabrina…”

Not giving him a chance to retort, she grabbed his arm and threw it around her shoulders, forcing him to his feet after a few failures. Her small, weak body shook under the man’s weight. Regardless, she put one foot in front of the other, again and again.

“It’s… Everything will be alright,” she reassured him in between wheezes. The cold was getting sharper, more painful. She didn’t remember any Saffron colder than this one. “It’s not too far-”

The world turned around. She caught a flash of light off the corner of her eye, and then something burning and weightless slammed into her from behind. All the air left her lungs. She was lifted off her feet, vision swimming, her body rolling a few times on the ground before finally crashing in the middle of the street.

Her senses were in disarray. Numb, pained. Through cloudy eyes she noticed a few pairs of boots in front of her, and the familiar sound of derisive laughter and Pokemon barking.

“We kill the pretty boy first, right?” she heard with sudden clarity, and saw a hand close around a familiar, wild mess of black hair, lifting the man with the cross’ head off the pavement.

No…

Even as a brat, Sabrina had known what she was. She’d never known other psychics in real life -it wasn’t a particularly common gift- but she’d read plenty about them; their talents and skills, what they eventually learned to do with that incredible power. And… even as a brat, she’d realized she was quite inferior to them.

By the time most psychics could levitate small furniture, she still struggled to bend a spoon. She’d tried at first. To train hard, to shorten the gap between reality and expectations, what could be considered ‘normal’ for one of her kind, but her lack of progress quickly frustrated her. Soured her toward the whole ordeal. It drove her further and further away from her own nature, and brought her closer toward what she was actually good at: Pokemon battles.

In that moment, as she rose to her feet, Sabrina’s own voice sounded strange in her ears. If she’d seen herself in a mirror, her eyes blank and expressionless, engulfed in psychic blue flames, her hair flowing freely behind her like tendrils of darkness, she probably wouldn’t have recognized herself.

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!”

In an instant, three of the men surrounding them -one of them their soon to have been executioner- were enveloped by a blue-ish light and then thrown against the nearest wall with inhuman force, the sound of shattering bones echoing like gunshots in the night.

Sabrina stumbled forward, head low. Her clothes swayed with the wind, covered in the same blue flames.

A single word, spoken by one of the surviving men, managed to break the silence.

“M… Monster…”

[bookshed-books]

Joe Gould’s Secret

I’m almost half way through Joe Gould’s Secret and am very impressed so far. It is written by journalist, Joseph Mitchell, and it is written extremely well. So much so that even when the content does not interest me, it’s still worth it for the writing. Mitchell has amazing judgment when it comes to detail (what and how much to say). Through his writing, Mitchell is able to build very complex pictures, though the sentences and words that form them do not feel complex when reading - if anything they feel simple. I think this is an incredible ability / my favourite trait in a writer and it reminds me of Richard Yates. The book is about Mitchell’s encounters with Joe Gould, and I say encounters rather than opinions as Mitchell (at least from what I’ve read so far) maintains a strong journalistic style /objectivity in his recollections. Joe Gould was a kooky man who had an unusual and somewhat complex path in life, which led him to poverty, homelessness and a distain for middle class culture.

As I’ve already said, some parts of the story itself are not incredibly interesting to me, but the way Mitchell writes always is. Joe Gould is an easy character to dismiss - a stubborn failure aimlessly trialing along a fruitless path - he could easily be portrayed as a one liner. But I think Mitchell looks for something more in him. For example, Mitchell describes Gould’s appearance at their first meeting in a diner:

‘He [Gould] was wearing a limp, dirty seersucker suit, a dirty Brooks Brothers button-down shirt with a frayed collar, and dirty sneakers. His face was greenish grey, and the right side of his mouth twitched involuntarily. His eyes were bloodshot. He was bald on top, but he had hair sticking out in every possible direction from the back and sides of his head. His beard was unkempt, and around his mouth cigarette smoke had stained it yellow. He had on a pair of glasses that were loose and lopsided, and they had slipped down near the end of his nose. As I came in, he lifted his head a little and looked at me, and his face was alert and on guard yet so tired and so detached and so remotely reflective that it was almost impassive. Looking straight at me, he looked straight through me. I have seen the same deceptively blank expression on the faces of old freaks sitting on platforms in freak shows and on the faces of old apes in zoos on Sunday afternoons.’

This description of Gould’s gaze stuck out to me, that someone so opinionated and with little respect for conventional manors (and with little to lose by rebelling against them) could also be shy and guarded. Although Gould’s life might look different to other writers who graduated from Harvard, it seems like he shares many of the same struggles they would when it comes to writing. I wonder if he chose the life he did - the life of an outcast - to somehow free himself from these struggles, but ultimately fails to do so.

[wasteofpain]

a trait of pete's that has consistently intrigued me is his capacity to adapt to any given situation. it's shown very early on through little things, most notably pete's advices to porsche about living in the main family's mansion, which are basically do as you're told and follow the rules. that easy.

the rules to surviving are observe and adapt.

observe

adapt

observe

adapt

often in media, abuse victims who adapt to their situation and create ways to live around that abuse just so they can make it through another day are portrayed as weak, as the side character to the rebellious one who fights back and doesn't just take it. but reality is, more often than not, if you're the rebellious kind all that will do for you is get you killed. and so growing up the way he did, pete probably had to learn this the hard way.

when he's caught by vegas and macau in the temple, although he hesitates a little (mostly for comedic effect), he goes with it. he makes merits with vegas and does very little fighting back against his creepiness.

when he's on his phone with his grandmother while tied up and spent from being tortured he still menages to recompose himself in a very impressive way and build a convincing enough version of himself that won't worry her.

this is a dance that he has perfected.

observing as a way of survival is also how he's aware of who vegas is from very early on. pete has always sensed that there was something rotten behind the charismatic human mask vegas wears. so when he's kidnapped, he knows what to expect.

but this time there's no surviving each day,

he's going to die.

or at least that's what's supposed to happen.

his suicidal defiance must feel so cathartic after a lifetime of adapting. to laugh in vegas's face and dare him with his eyes to do his worst.

but pete is still the same pete who was beat as a child by a father who couldn't deal with his own failures like an adult.

so when vegas chokes him and throws hurtful words around as if he wasn't looking at pete like he was the sun not that long ago, he adapts to the situation.

this is when i die

he was already having a crisis before vegas came into the room. the shame had set in and he was questioning every choice he's made so far, no longer just living in the moment. vegas's outburst just confirmed things.

so now the situation is, pete has a chance to die. vegas has a knife against his throat and maybe, just maybe, he might kill him this time. it's a chance he can't miss out on. no more fantasies of surviving, life has thrown at him that he can finally die and he feels like shit so it's probably for the best.

but pete is tired of adapting.

what if he wants to live?

and live without chains.

he recomposes himself just as he did when he was tied up with a phone against his ear and with the last remains of his strength he frees himself.

he goes back to his old life, but it's not the same. pete's instict is still to adapt, but he can't adapt to this.

there's an aching feeling in his chest eating him alive. it's not a pain that he can distract himself from, its always in the forefront taking up every inch of his brain.

it doesn't let him sleep,

it doesn't let him eat,

it doesn't let him lie to his friends.

vegas has shaken his ability to adapt, now all pete can do is try to hold his pieces together and not break in front of someone. beg that they ignore that he's crumbling even if they see the cracks.

seeing vegas is an intoxicating reminder of what's been done to him, that despite it all he's still nothing. vegas replaced seeing pete as a pet for seeing pete as a person he isn't because it was the person vegas needed to see in him in that moment. even when pete thinks he might've gotten somewhere, he hasn't.

he's not a human.

he has no feelings.

all that matters is what he can be for other people, his real feelings aren't to be noticed.

but still, pete can't deny to himself that he liked some of it.

he didn't like being dehumanized and beat, but he liked being held down and worshiped. he liked being looked at like he could mean something. like someone wanted him so much they couldn't control themselves. like someone needed him. he can't even bring himself to lie to vegas when he asks him to promise not to leave him.

he liked it.

and he wants more.

but he can't have it anymore, barely had it in the first place.

vegas leaves him sobbing alone on the floor.

pete gets up.

pete recomposes himself.

pete adapts.

[windvexer]

Chicken! Question on discernment and practicing. How do you practice discerning between the real answer and your brain providing answers you want to hear? Or like if using your ping method and you get nothing back?

Hey you!

One of the most important things I've done to discern between real & brain-garble answers is understanding my limits.

Developing discernment can be less like building a new tool, and more like uncovering a buried one with those little archeologist brushes.

These limits and barriers can be discovered by doing lots of different exercises under lots of different conditions. A lot of these exercises should be approached with the mindset that you're trying to learn more about yourself than anything else.

If your mindset is, "if I'm bad at these techniques it counts as a failure and indicates that I'm Not Psychic," you're gunna have a bad time. If you are able to reframe as, "this technique is an opportunity for me to learn about myself, so it is a game I cannot lose," things get a lot less stressful.

Extra infos in no particular order:

Practice what is verifiable. I could discern auras all day long, but that's not verifiable unless I can go up to the person and ask them to confirm my interpretations. (Non-verifiable practice can be calming and take the pressure off, like creative mode on video games; no need to force yourself to do only verifiable practice all the time :))

The verifiability is what we need in order to gather information: was my discernment accurate, or not? By plotting these data points over time and as our skills improve, we will learn so much about our own abilities.

Not all of us can discern the same things, right? I've never been able to do the "guess what this card is" game. So if one technique isn't working for you, or one 'domain' always falls flat, switch things up and move on.

A major part of me knowing what's "real" info and what's just brain garble is the experience to know the 'domain' I'm trying to read on just isn't within my abilities. You want me to tell you what card it is? Well you're getting brain garble for sure, I can't discern those types of things.

Lend your mind towards examining many variables. If trying the ping method, consider these variables when talking to plants: Plants used in spells versus those who are not. Young vs old, plants you take care of vs strangers, day vs night, sunny vs rainy, healthy vs diseased, isolated vs near other plants. Hearing nothing back might be because a tired plant was in the middle of a growth cycle and didn't have time to talk to you, not because you were unable to hear.

Or, the card reading trick with playing cards vs tarot cards. Store bought runes vs hand-made ones. Be quick to consider variables and slow to discount yourself.

(Other variables include you: your amount of sleep, food intake, recreational chems such as caffeine and alcohol levels, etc.)

Try focusing on your body, not just your mind. Your body may have vital sensations and signs (vital, pun) to help clue you in to your intuition.

I believe every act of discernment (about mundane situations or otherwise) and every act of focusing on psychism and intuition will improve your overall magical discernment.

Not every practice session needs to be 30 minutes you pencil in to your calendar. Try practicing all the time, with small things. Like... is your favorite mug going to be in the cabinet when you open it? What will the next commercial be for? Try to find 2-4 single-player games you can practice regularly throughout the day, so that when you feel like practicing, you always have something nearby.

By practicing lots of different verifiable techniques and always striving to gather data, over time you can gain a deep sense of how your abilities work. This includes your own personal awareness of how it feels inside your body+mind when you are discerning correctly, or not.

Over time & with practice, you can develop your own techniques for improving your discernment. Stuff that's unique to you and custom built for you :) but you can't get there until you start with practice.

Developing psychism & discernment is a bit like playing the guitar.

On one hand, it is a muscle you must develop and strengthen. This takes time. If you have 0 musical experience, even if you practice the guitar every day, it takes time for you to be able to strengthen your fingertips and hands enough to play it (and then develop muscle memory).

On the other hand, it is a skill you must cognitively learn and understand. This also takes time. Your hands can be strong but you can fail to understand the music; you can understand the music but have delicate fingers that can't hold down the strings.

Psychic techniques are nothing but notes and chords for you to practice. They are not keys that "unlock" anything.

I really do believe that people find techniques and think it's like a magic wand - that the technique itself is a key or doorway to power, and if they complete the technique and fail, it either means A) the technique doesn't work, or B) they are not psychic.

Techniques are just chords. You use them to simultaneously develop your muscles, and learn about the instrument you're trying to play.

If you require several weeks of regular practice before you are able to tap into your psychism, there's no technique that will suddenly develop that. Just like there's no spell to make you wake up tomorrow with bigger muscles and also you understand Kung-Fu.

So don't be discouraged :) just practice, practice lots of different things, verify everything you can, learn bunches, and remember to take a lot of breaks.

[skullchicken]

Part 2 - Making Connections

Prepare for disappointment

Building connections is hardest in the beginning, when you're the most raw, the most deprived and perhaps the least stable. Sometimes a social interaction will leave you wanting to cry in the shower. Think of ways to soothe yourself when you get hurt, e.g. watching your favorite series wrapped in a blanket, drinking something warm.

Be careful not to secretly pray for failure.

"Protective hopelessness" is when start to think 'why try? It's hopeless anyways' or even seek out bad experiences or memories to prove yourself right. 'If it's hopeless, then I don't have to try, then I don't have to be anxious, then I don't have to risk getting hurt.' It's comforting, in a way - but it's also not the way out of the deep, dark hole you are in.

Think about what it is that you enjoy and try to find places where you might find like-minded people

You could try seeking out fandom spaces, hobby meet-ups, sports clubs. You want to look for places, be they online or offline, where you can potentially regularly run into the same people over and over again and have casual, pleasant conversations to start things off.

Ask people questions

Try to think of a few open-ended questions (questions that can't be answered with yes or no), like "what are you passionate about?" or "what do you like about [thing you both like]?

Make an observation about what the person has said or tell them what this reminds you of or paraphrase and summarize what the other person has said ("so you thought the cinematography was really good")

Ask a question relating to what the person has said

Example:

What kind of anime do you like?

I've been recently watching Dungeon Meshi and I've really enjoyed the world building in that fantasy series! The monsters are super interesting.

You seem to really like fantasy / That reminds me of pokemon go, I've recently picked it back up again / So the world building is really immersive.

Which monster did you like best?

This is a simple conversational script that you can follow for a while or until either you or your conversational partner tire of it.

Pay attention not just who you enjoy spending time with, but also who treats you well and asks you questions back.

Don't forget to pat yourself on the back for being courageous and going into social situations! You're trying your best! You're training your social muscles and that takes time and effort!

Once you have acquaintances you like, try revealing a little bit more about yourself

While there are plenty of people who are surprisingly cool with getting into their dark pasts with people they don't know that well, it is usually a safer bet to start off shallow and slowly go deeper. If you feel you like someone or they click with you, carefully tell them about yourself, a few breadcrumbs at a time. See how they react and if they follow in turn, you can decide to go deeper or stay on the same level.

If you have trouble judging intimacy, you can use a rule of thumb: the more people would generally know about a specific topic that pertains to you, the less intimate it is. Everyone can know about the weather, so it isn't intimate to talk about how you perceive the weather. Talking about the city where you live is a little more intimate, but many people can know about that city. Your family history is fairly intimate, probably only your own family would know about that. Information that only you would know about yourself is very intimate.

If you have the brain space for it, write down who you talked to and what you talked about once the meet-up is over. This will make it easier for you to keep track and follow up on them

Try to delight in each other's existence

We're all little sacks of meat flying on a big piece of rock through space, with limited time. Try to care for the people you spend time with and try to make it delightful for the both of you. If you can manage that, you have already won a lot.

How to crawl out of a deep dark hole of loneliness

In no particular order - and you might have to re-do some steps over and over until they take. This is written in a way I would have put it if I would address my past self. If you take umbrage with the tone, know it's not necessarily you I am talking to.

Take what applies, leave the rest.

Part 1 - Mindset

Understand the difference between being alone and being lonely

Being alone is being by yourself. Loneliness is a feeling of lacking social connections or lacking in social connections. You can be alone and peaceful and content, you can be lonely amongst people.

Grieve the abandonment you have received.

No-one deserves to be lonely. Not you, not anyone. Whatever the reason for your loneliness may be, that remains true. Process your feelings, have compassion with yourself.

Realize that social connection is something that you want from other people.

Realize that other people don't owe you connection.

No-one deserves loneliness, but no-one is owed connection either. It is a harsh truth, but one that must be understood.

Come to terms with the fact that since you want social connection, it will probably be on you to reach out and put yourself out there until relationships have been established (and maybe even then - some people are wonderful, but they aren't good at reaching out and never will be).

Give yourself space to feel afraid. Have compassion with yourself. Reaching out is hard. Putting yourself out there is hard.

Keep in mind that your threat response might be higher than the average person's.

If you have been lonely for a long time, chances are your social skills are dusty and your threat response is high as a result (or maybe due to past trauma or maybe that's just how you're wired).

Chances are good you are perceiving other people's reaction towards you more negatively than they intend it to be. This will slowly, slooowwwwwly vanish with practice. And I'm sorry that this is how it is right now. I recommend looking into getting a CBT app - e.g. MindShift. It's free and it really helped me. (Note: the app is for dealing with anxiety and focuses specifically on helping you to re-evaluate your thinking patterns)

It helps to approach people with curiosity and love in your heart

Misanthropy is understandable. It's also not helpful in the slightest. If all of humanity sucks, what use would it be to try and strike up a conversation with any one person? Why would I try to talk to them if I assume that they have nothing interesting to say?

You have had love in the past, there is no reason why there can't be love again. There is something good out there and it is on you to find it.

[twobigears]

@wyrddogs​ well it’s gonna be a Process integrating it into our agility routine, but the main thing is I try really hard to stick to the criteria of “do not move your paws”. Which is already hard enough for Chandra in the sit-stay in agility. 😅 We did some practice with the stand-stay and a jump on Friday with the vet, and a little more yesterday and both sessions went really well because her stand-stay is pretty solid right now from all our obedience work, but I expect it might start slipping as Chandra brings Agility Feelings into it.

The key things for teaching and progressing a solid stand-stay, at least from what I know now, are:

a well-understood duration marker that means “wait in place for reward”. I use “good” for treats and “nice” for toys. “Good” is said with a specific, low and drawn-out intonation that separates it from using “good” in other contexts, like “good girl” and general praise. My dogs know that when I say “good” like that, it mains wait still and don’t move while I bring the treat to you.

“Nice” for toys is slightly different and tbh I am not as nerdy about dog training science as I used to be so I don’t really care but I use it as kind of an intermediate marker which means that the /next/ word will be a verbal marker indicating where to get their toy. For example, “nice, look-back” will tell my dog to get the toy on the ground behind her. Is the nice marker necessary or super-clean training? I don’t know but I feel like it helps my dogs pause and think a little more when toys are involved. I primarily use it for stationary positions like the startline stay or 2on2on contacts, but I actually started using it for moving heeling and wanted to reward Chandra with a toy in my left hand. She really struggles with targeting the toy in this situation and I was tired of getting my hand bit. So adding “nice” gave me a way to mark her heeling and then add an extra second for her to pause and actually target the toy before cued “bite”.

Separating these out because they are extra important:

Being as picky as possible about not allowing/rewarding foot movement!! Super important!! If I reach in to deliver a treat and my dog moves a paw, oops, that gets a no-reward marker and the treat hand either pauses or moves away.

Working through the same Duration, Distance, Distraction principles as sit and down-stays. And trying to do that gradually enough that I avoid failures (i.e. paw movement or self-releasing) as much as possible. This is a big mistake that many people make with any sort of stay or stationary position. They (either accidentally or intentionally) try to teach more through failure and correcting when the dog moves, rather than rewarding more for the dog successfully staying still. Yes failure will happen, and like I said that’s when I use a NRM but my goal is to minimize the use of NRMs as much as possible and do a lot more rewarding for staying still.

And the same release principles as other stationary positions. Having a clear verbal release cue, whether that is a general release cue, releasing with a marker cue, or cue to do another behavior. And just like above, I want to build a history of my dog successfully staying until released far more often than pushing them to fail and self-release early.

As far as integrating it into agility specifically, some additional things I’ll be particularly focusing on are:

watching out for paw movement (again!!)

gradually increasing my lead-out distance and not pushing for more distance on the lead-out than she can successfully maintain. I won’t expect to right away be able to lead out as far with a stand-stay as I can get with a sit-stay.

using toy reinforcers. Up to this point I have primarily used food for Chandra’s stand-stay. But toys increase her arousal and excitement, and that is something she’ll have to work through since agility also = a lot of arousal and excitement. She already has a hard time sometimes even responding to the initial stand cue when a toy is in the picture! We can also do some two-toy work where I have a toy in my hand as well as a toy on the ground behind her, and she has to listen and respond to the appropriate verbal marker for which toy to get. Having a toy behind her is especially helpful for reducing the temptation to creep forward if she is thinking she might have to go backwards for reinforcement.

I might also add a “wait” cue. I don’t typically teach a separate stay/wait cue, I teach sit/down/stand such that the stay is implied. Like when I cue her to sit on the startline I only give the sit cue, and then she stays until release. But I have taught a “wait” cue in other agility contexts, such as waiting on the down ramp of the dogwalk when backchaining her 2on2off. So she understands “wait” in agility already and it might be a helpful boost for a stand-stay on the startline.

and of course continuing to work and reinforce the stand-stay separately from agility and in our obedience contexts so it remains strong there

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: I need help getting out of what I think might be Ni-Ti loop.

[Background: I have a rather atypical life. It could partially be because of where I am and partially for my loop. I started really well, was a good student and my teachers thought I was going to have a bright future.

During late teen years I found out the name of what I was dealing with, which had to do with being LGBT. I became depressed and reserved, but couldn't tell anyone about it, not even my family. So I kept it to myself and planned to immigrate one day.

I kind of ended up studying the 2nd thing my family wanted for me, but I resented it. My family told me to graduate and then do what I want. I was in my mid-20s when I graduated, and I was unemployed and lost. I studied hard and got accepted to a reputable grad school. I wanted to use that opportunity to build my CV.

A family member had promised (several times) to pay for my housing in case I got accepted to a good uni, but right when I told them about my acceptance, they pulled the rug under me and got what they had said back without any reason. So I ended up not going due to money issues.]

The main part : I'm now in my late 20s, and I feel even more lost. I compare myself with people my age from around the world and even my own past, and I feel behind in life.

I'm stuck in this Ni-Ti (or Ti-Si?) loop. I still haven't "moved out" to a more liberal part of the world, haven't begun my "process", and the depression caused by it, the pressure to keep all of it inside, and my inability to find my way out are killing me. It's like everytime I try to fix my situation, I fail and get back to stage one

I guess the logical thing is to have a fresh start, study something reasonable in my own town, get a BSc degree in it and try for an internship position while studying, in order to gain work experience, build my CV and then leave.

But I just don't have the energy to do it. I'm already stuck in my Ni-Ti loop. It's paradoxical, like a negative cycle or a dead-end. I know I have to let go of my internal state and work hard, in order to reach my goal, but I lack the energy, hope and internal strength to do it. And besides, what if I fail?

Everyday, I mourn for my lost youth, and I think it's already too late for me now, let alone after 4-5 years or more. I would be in my early to mid 30s by then, and even thinking about it makes me hopeless, anxious and suicidal. If the things in my past hadn't happened, I would be where I wanted to be right now, and I keep thinking about that (Ni loop of tunnel vision?).

I'm really tired of being repressed and closeted, not being able to explain my pain, appear like myself, choose my outfit, etc. And my future is ambiguous, which makes things even harder for me to deal with. I can't really talk about my "condition" with anyone in my life, and I feel too shy to trust and confess that to a therapist or ask for help in real life.

My question: How can I get out of this Ni-Ti loop/cycle and have a healthy life? I read a lot of self help books, but they don't seem to work. How can I stop feeling behind in life compared to people my age or even younger?

------------------------

As explained in the study guides, getting out of Ni-Ti loop requires healthy dominant Ni functioning and developing healthy auxiliary Fe functioning.

Your Ni difficulties involve not having a good direction. This began with you not making the best decision with regard to your schooling and career; this likely continues because your idea of what your career should look like is too rigid or naive. Job and career aren't the same thing. It is possible to be happy without a career and career is only as important as you make it to be. Nowadays, it is quite common for people to explore many different career paths throughout life. Yet, you beat yourself up for it and, gradually, fear of failure infects your entire mindset, which is counterproductive and a waste of energy. As long as you devote energy to the negativity of guilt or regret, that energy isn't going to be available for positive efforts. Life isn't and shouldn't be a straight line and the sooner you understand and accept this reality, the more energy you will free up for positive growth.

Your Fe difficulties involve not having enough social support. You cannot avoid suffering in life, but good social support can help ease it. There is reason for you to keep this secret of yours, but remember that secrets eat you up inside. It is a self-destructive choice. Staying in the closet is harmful to mental health for a variety of reasons.

It isn't either/or; there is a healthy middle ground between complete silence and loudly proclaiming your identity in the streets. Of course, depending on where one lives, one has to exercise enough care and caution in exposing oneself. Remember that it doesn't matter where you live, every place has its fair share of good and bad people, and sexual minorities exist and have always existed among the majority population. There are always kindred spirits and sympathetic allies around, even if they can only be found online at first. Communicating with people online is sometimes the safer way and better than having no social support at all. An important part of being a healthy N is opening the mind to possibility.

If you care about your mental health and well-being, you should put out the effort to find some kind of social support. Bearing such suffering alone isn't a sustainable strategy, and it's especially unhealthy when it interferes with type development and keeps you trapped in harmful tertiary loop patterns.

Your Fe development issues are very understandable because of lack of social support, but they go far deeper than that in the way you rely on social comparison to measure yourself. This is an immature and maladaptive thought pattern that needs to be changed. Do you understand that every person is an individual and has their own path in life? Do you understand that your social comparisons are wrongheaded because you're comparing yourself against what you merely superficially see of others? Are you a mindreader? You don't know what other people are really thinking, feeling, or going through behind closed doors. And how they live is irrelevant to you and how you should live your life, that is, if you ever hope to become a truly independent adult.

You want social validation/acceptance, which is legitimate, but contorting yourself into a false image isn't the healthy way to achieve it. In fact, the start of the career problem came when you didn't decide according to your own needs but to meet the expectations of your family. Until you learn to put your own needs in perspective and prioritize them properly, you won't find your direction, and this will make it difficult to have healthy Ni.

[ragingbookdragon]

Batsis Meet The Batboys

Batsis x Batfamily One-Shot

Word Count: 4.1K Warnings: Explicit Language, Angst

Author's Note: Y'all, I am slowly but surely making good on that promise to get all my stories reposted--also editing them so they're nice and neat! Enjoy! -Thorne

Dick:

She hummed in amusement as her father grunted and begrudgingly passed over another five into the man’s hand. “You know…it’s good to know that my perfect father actually sucks at something.” She turned and popped a piece of cotton candy into her mouth. “And it’s carnival games.”

He grunted again when he missed the balloon, and he handed her the darts. “Why don’t you try it, sweetheart?”

She handed him the cotton candy with a grin and took the darts, holding one up and making the repeated motion of throwing it. She couldn’t help but feel a little cocky as she asked, “Dad, if I get this, what toy do you want?”

She nodded to the bat in the corner. “I was thinking about the stuffed bat. Eh, dad?” He glared at her, but she laughed as she tossed the weighted dart, watching as it hit center and she pointed to the bat. “I’ll take that one.”

The man handed it to her, and they walked off; she held it up to her father. “Here. A bat for Batman,” she quipped, and he grunted at her.

“That isn’t funny, (Y/N).”

She shrugged and retorted, “It’s a little funny. You just have no sense of humor because you’re a stick in the mud.” (Y/N) shoved the stuffed animal in her backpack before reaching up and taking her father’s hand; she glanced down at her wristwatch on the opposite hand and said, “The performances don’t start for another twenty minutes. Want to go look at something else? I saw one of those spinning car rides. We could do that.”

When he didn’t give her response, she looked back up at him to see him staring off into the distance, his eyes set on the Wayne Enterprises tower. “Dad? You okay?”

He blinked as if startled from his thoughts and he directed his gaze down at her and after a few moments, he nodded. “Just thinking.”

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“I haven’t spent a lot of time with you.” He frowned and squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry, (Y/N). I haven’t been a good—”

She cut him off with a ‘pfft’. “Dad, it’s alright. I’m not angry.” (Y/N) squeezed his hand in return. “I might be young, but I’m not an idiot. I know being a dad is new for you, especially since you didn’t get to watch me grow up the first decade of my life. But what matters is that you’re here now, and you’re doing the best you can. And that’s all I ask of you.”

At her little speech, he was stunned, and after a moment he knelt down and hugged her. “I love you, sweetheart.”

(Y/N) returned the hug, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, though they were so big and broad that she couldn’t meet her hands around his back. “I love you too, dad.”

Happening to glance over his shoulder, she immediately gasped. “Dad!”

He let her go, immediately moving to protect her. “What? What is it?”

(Y/N) pointed towards a costumed family walking and greeting the people. “It’s the Flying Grayson’s!” She grabbed his hand and tugged him along in their direction. “Let’s get a picture with them!” She could hear her father chuckle behind her, but he followed, and they stepped up to the family.

(Y/N) waved at them. “Hi Mister and Missus Grayson! Can we get a picture with you?”

The man and woman smiled at them and nodded, and a boy a couple years younger than her stepped up.

He stuck out his hand. “Hi, I’m Richard Grayson. But you can call me Dick.”

(Y/N) took his hand and shook it. “(Y/N) Wayne. Nice to meet you, Dick.” She gestured to her father. “This is my dad, Bruce Wayne.”

Her father smiled and tipped his head towards the boy before handing the camera to someone and stepping beside her. She and Dick had become friends instantaneously as they slung their arms around each other’s necks, their grins cheesy and wide.

The camera flashed and the man handed Bruce the camera, and (Y/N) nodded to the family. “Thank you for taking a picture with us.” They started to walk away, but she stopped them, motioning to her dad. “Can my dad take a picture of the three of you? I know it seems a little weird, but it’d be cool to have a picture of you guys, and one with you.” They nodded at her request and she gestured to her father, watching him take the photo of the family. “Thank you!”

They waved and walked off, leaving them, and she turned to Bruce. “Wanna go find seats?” He nodded, and they began moving in the direction of the tent.

***

Time seemed to grind to a halt as (Y/N)’s heart stopped in her chest as she watched them slam into the ground. Chaos filled the tent in mere seconds, people screaming, children crying, and her father grabbed her arm. “(Y/N)—”

She nodded and pulled her arm away, already starting to make her way from her seat. “I’ve got him. Go.” She didn’t wait for his reply, hopping the seats until her feet hit the dirt ground and she broke into a sprint towards the sobbing boy in the center.

She twisted her feet and slid on the ground next to him, her heart tightened when he gazed up at her, sky blue eyes wide in agony. (Y/N) reached out, wrapping her arms around him. “I’ve got you Dick. I’ve got you kid.”

She felt his arms come around her middle as his head burrowed in her shoulder; his entire body shook with every heart-wrenching sob, and (Y/N) raised one of her hands, running it through his hair as she whispered repeatedly, “I’ve got you.”

(Y/N) heard GCPD officers shouting, and she looked up, seeing her father standing beside them. “Batman,” she whispered softly.

He glanced at her before kneeling beside them and blocking the way of the fallen couple. “You two shouldn’t look at this anymore.”

She nodded and squeezed the boy on the shoulder. “Dick. We need to get away from here.”

“I can’t…leave them.” He pulled back, tears streaming down his cheeks. “I’m…all alone.”

(Y/N) shook her head, and placed a hand on his cheek. “I’m here, Dick. You’re not alone.” His face pinched as a new round of tears sprouted in his eyes and he lowered his head, the sobs wracking his body, and she gazed up at her father’s face, knowing the agony behind the white slits. “You’re not alone.”

Jason:

She walked alongside her father, tugging at the collar of her suit. “Can’t we make a suit that doesn’t choke me as much as this collar does? I feel like I’ve got one of Ivy’s vines wrapped around my throat.” He didn’t say anything and she rolled her eyes. “Fine. Fine. Ignore me. I see how it is.”

“You’re the one who designed your suit, Batgirl. I told you to choose breathable fabric but you refused and said you wanted adequate protection like mine.”

She blinked and glared at him. “Do you get some sick pleasure from repeating my apparent failures?” He chuckled lightly, and she looked around. “Whatever…I still think you shouldn’t have parked in Crime Alley. You know there’s always trouble here.”

“The Batmobile is fine,” he said, voice tired as if he’d answered the question a hundred times before—he had.

(Y/N) hummed, nodding to the car a few feet ahead of them and quipped, “Oh, so the kid jacking the tires off it is completely normal?”

Her father looked at her split second before turning to see it, his eyes widening in disbelief as he muttered, “I don’t believe what I’m seeing.” He moved soundlessly towards the boy, her following.

“Got to give it to him. It takes some big balls to jack the Batman’s ride,” she admired and he grunted, though she knew he was in agreement, and they walked up on the oblivious boy.

She watched her father pull his ‘Put-The-Fear-Of-Batman-Into-‘Em’ stance and he cleared his throat with an exaggerated, ‘ahem’. (Y/N) snorted at the way the boy jerked, twisting to see them staring at him; she swore he’d shit himself the way the fear bled into his eyes.

Her father glared at the kid. “You do realize that’s the Batmobile, right?”

The boy’s face pinched, and he tipped his head up, his voice haughty. “Duh. You do realize you parked your car in Crime Alley, right?” (Y/N) barked a laugh, but quickly coughed when her father turned his glower to her, and he turned back to the boy just in time to see him swinging the tire iron.

“Bad move, hotshot.” Her words fell on deaf ears as she watched her father catch the tool and grip the boy by the front of his hoodie, picking him up off the ground a few feet.

He squirmed, legs kicking out for few seconds before spitting, “You want to beat up on a kid, go enlist in the GCPD like every other bully in this city.”

(Y/N) saw the gears turning in her father’s head as he leaned in, his face inches apart from the boys as he demanded, “I’m only going to ask you this once…So give some serious thought to your answer.”

The boy craned his neck, eyes narrowed as he asked, “What it is?”

Her father gave him a smirk. “Are you hungry?” The boy’s brows furrowed in suspicion, and within the next ten minutes, they were sitting on the hood of the Batmobile eating burgers and fries and sipping on milkshakes.

At one point, she’d reached over and grabbed the boy’s hands; he looked up at her and she nodded to his burger. “Slow down, Jason. You’ll eat your hand at this rate.”

He snorted but nodded, eating a little slower than before as he said, “Sorry. This is the closest thing to a home-cooked meal since I’ve had a home.” He paused and looked out at the city. “It’s funny…I was here once, looking for Wayne Manor.” He looked between them. “I was trying to case the place, but I got lost.”

Bruce looked down at the boy and questioned, “Why do you think it’s okay to steal from people?”

Jason scoffed at his question. “Are you kidding me? Look at this view.” He motioned to the buildings in the distance. “Freaking ‘Billionaire Playboy’ thinks he’s the king of the world. Pfft.”

(Y/N) elbowed him in the ribs and quipped, “Oh honey, he doesn’t think he is. He knows he is.”

The two of them cackled, but the solemn look from her father made their laughter fall short and he said, “Sometimes you just have to give people a chance Jason…they’ll usually surprise you.”

Her father’s words made Jason pause, and she saw him sink into deep thought. After a few moments, she leaned across Jason and nudged her father.

He looked at her and she tipped her head to Jason. “Does this mean he’s coming home with us?” Her father looked at him and back to her, then nodded and she shifted her arm, grinning as she wrapped it around Jason’s neck. “Well then, welcome to the family…little brother.”

Tim:

She could sense the boy following her, and after a few moments, she realized he wasn’t giving up. It wasn’t just some coincidence that they were on the same path—he wanted something from her. She glanced over her shoulder before ducking into the shadows of an alley, waiting for him to follow.

Sure enough, he stepped into the opening of the alley, looking for her, then he shook his head and stamped his foot on the ground. “No-no-no. I was so close to finding her.” He sighed and his shoulders fell in defeat as he visibly deflated.

She stepped behind him and gripped his shoulder in an steel-tight grasp, inquiring, “Why are you following me, kid?”

The kid gasped like he’d been shot as his knees collapsed beneath him, falling from her grip and to the ground. He rolled and gazed up at her with a mixture of shock and wonder as he breathed, “Batgirl.”

She glared down at him and demanded, “Answer my question before I call GCPD for you being out past curfew. Why. Are. You. Following. Me.”

He swallowed thickly before nodding rapidly. “Right. You see, I’ve been looking for you, Batgirl.”

“Yeah, I got that from the tailing. What I wanna know is, why?”

“I need to talk to you about Batman.”

Her eyes narrowed in suspicion at the mention of her father. “What’s a scrawny-ass kid like you, need to talk about Batman with me for?”

His mouth opened, then it snapped shut and he seemed to think on his answer for a moment. He looked at his hands and whispered, “It’s about your brother…Jason Todd.”

Hearing her deceased brother’s name knocked the air from her lungs and she barely managed to get the word ‘what?’ out without sucking in a breath.

He glanced up at her. “I know who you are Miss Way—”

(Y/N)’s hand shot out and she slapped it over his mouth before shaking her head. “Don’t say my name. You don’t know who’s listening.” He went silent as she removed her hand and held it out for him. “C’mon. If you know who I am then that means you know everyone’s identity.”

He nodded mutely and she clicked a button on her wrist; A few moments later, her bike pulled in front of the alley. “Get up. We need to go have a chat.” He took her hand, letting her haul him to his feet, and they walked over to the bike. (Y/N) climbed on before nodding to him. “Get on and hold on.” He followed her order, sitting in front of her, and she took off.

***

A few minutes later, they were stepping into one of the safe houses her dad set up around the city. She closed the door and flicked on the light, pulling the cowl off before gesturing to the table. “Sit.” He obeyed and she opened the refrigerator, pulling out two sodas. (Y/N) turned, taking the seat across from him and sliding his drink over. “Now. Who are you and how do you know about all this?”

He nodded and pulled out a giant book, placing it on the table. “My name is Timothy Jackson Drake, I’m thirteen, and I’ve been following the exploits of Batman, Batgirl, and Robin since I was two.”

(Y/N) cocked a brow at that. “Two’s a little young to be able to remember us.”

Tim looked at the book and nodded. “I know…but I have a photographic memory, and I remember the first time I saw Batman.”

“And that was?”

He paused and his voice quiet. “The night Dick Grayson’s parents were murdered.” (Y/N)’s eyes went wide, and he drew his eyes to hers. “I remember Dick swinging to the ground as his parents climbed the ladder. His mom went first, and his dad followed. Then…the rope snapped, and…they fell.”

Tim quieted considerably and she had to strain to hear him as he recounted, “I got scared, and I looked away. I couldn’t watch…then I heard the crash and Dick sobbing. And I saw you run down and hug him.” He met her gaze. “Then I saw this giant, dark shape falling towards you, and I thought it was going to hurt you two. But then I realized Batman wasn’t trying to hurt you…he was trying to help you both. And he went from being a monster…to becoming some great Dark Knight.”

Tim looked at her. “From them on, I’ve been having the same dream, over and over. I—”

(Y/N) raised a hand, stopping him. “When did you find out who we were?”

He nodded. “When I was nine, I was watching TV and I saw you and Dick, well, Robin and Batgirl. You—”

“Batgirl and Robin. In that order.” She pointed to herself with a face that could only be something akin to the ‘first-child-syndrome’. “I was first.”

A smile grew across Tim’s face and he nodded. “Right, Batgirl and Robin. Anyway, I saw you two on TV, and I watched Dick perform a quadruple somersault.” He grinned rather proudly of himself and declared, “I knew that somersault like I knew my own name. About six months later, Robin made his first appearance. And if Dick Grayson was Robin and Bruce Wayne’s ward, then Bruce Wayne was Batman, and you were Batgirl.” (Y/N) stared at Tim in shock, too stunned to even form words.

He shifted nervously under her gaze. “Um…Miss (Y/N)? Batgirl? Are you alright?”

(Y/N) blinked and shook her head as she muttered, “Holy shit, kid. What are you?”

“I—I’m sorry?”

She huffed a laugh and grinned at him. “You’ve got some damn good detective skills to have figured all that out.” Tim smiled sheepishly under the praise, then (Y/N) stood up from the table, stretching her arms over her head until she heard her joints pop, then she stared at him. “You got a place to sleep tonight?”

“I…no. Not at the moment.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on her hips and hummed. “And why’s that?”

“Well, in the course of looking for you, I’ve also been looking for Dick. But I can’t find him. He’s good at disappearing.”

She nodded and pointed to a room. “I know where Dick is. Go sleep in the guest room, and tomorrow we can go find him.”

As she walked past him, heading for her room, he questioned dubiously, “You’d do that for me?”

(Y/N) stopped and glanced over her shoulder. “Isn’t that what family does?”

Tim’s jaw went slack and he gaped at her as she stepped into her room and closed the door behind her.

Damian:

She shut the door behind her and locked it, though there really wasn’t any reason to considering the fact that no one could get into the manor, let alone across the front lawn without anyone inside knowing.

Hauling the bag up and over her shoulder, she found it odd that no one had greeted her yet and her oddity turned into unsettling when she didn’t hear anything.

She dropped her keys in the silver bowl on the side table and looked around the foyer. “Hello? Dad? Alfred? Timmy?” She stuck her head in the kitchen door. “Anyone home?”

There was no response and she hummed questioningly, knowing that on a Sunday, everyone was home relaxing. She made her way to the study and shifted the clock hands, watching as the entrance appeared, then she descended the steps into the cave. It was even quieter than usual, and she felt the hairs stand up on the back on her neck as she made her way to the Batcomputer.

She pushed a button on the keyboard, watching as the screen came to life and said, “Give me the most recent update.”

“Confirmation?” It replied.

“(Y/N) Wayne, Batgirl.”

The computer beeped for a moment. “(Y/N) Wayne. Batgirl. Access level high.” It paused. “Access granted. Welcome Batgirl.”

“Give me the most recent update.”

“Requested.” It processed the request then told her, “Talia al Ghul entered Gotham Bay approximately two days ago, leaving behind Damian al Ghul in Batman’s custody.”

Damian al Ghul? Who the hell is that? (Y/N) raised an eyebrow as she pushed another button. “Who is Damian al Ghul.”

“Damian al Ghul is the biological son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul. Conceived…month and day unknown…year was two-thousand-three.”

(Y/N) stared at the screen, not sure if she should feel shock that her dad had a second biological kid, or disgust that he slept with Talia to get one. All the sudden, her training kicked in and she felt someone behind her. She spun around, catching the blade of a sword coming at her. She looked down at a young child, no older than ten, glaring up at her. She’d seen pictures of her father when he was a child, and though he had Talia’s emerald green eyes and olive complexion, there was no mistaking the resemblance between him and her father.

Her eyes narrowed into slits as she shoved him away. “The hell are you doing?”

He raised the sword again and said, “Testing you.”

(Y/N) crossed her arms, her gaze curious. “For what purpose?”

He ran at her waving the sword. “To see if you are really father’s daughter.”

She chuckled at that and dodged each attempt to cut her. “Trust me short-stack, I’m Bruce Wayne’s kid.”

Her insult seemed to set him off and he swung the sword wildly. “I am not short!”

(Y/N) grunted as the blade grazed her arm, and she clenched her jaw. “Alright. I’m done entertaining you.”

She let him come to her, then she twisted, wrenching the sword from his grip before tossing it away and coming back around. She gripped him by the collar and used the momentum to slam him to the ground before pulling his arms behind him and putting her knee in his back.

It all happened within seconds, and he didn’t know how to respond other than to cry out in anger. “Let go!”

She pulled his arms tighter until he stopped squirming and she leaned down. “Take a chill pill, runt.” He still cried out in rage at the name, and she heard someone grunt a few feet from her.

“Let him up, (Y/N).”

She looked up to see her father and Alfred walking towards her. She obeyed, rolling away from the boy and to her feet. “I was wondering where you were.”

Bruce nodded to Damian, who was pulling himself off the floor in a rather heated fashion. “We were trying to find out where Damian had gone.”

(Y/N) eyed him for a moment before murmuring, “So, he really is your kid?”

Damian cut Bruce off, spitting, “Are you jealous?”

She looked at Damian and snorted. “Not even an ounce short-cake.” (Y/N) laughed at the way his face pinched in rage, and she turned to Bruce. “You just can’t help collecting them, can you?” He glared at her and she laughed, walking over and nudging him. “Smile a little, Scrooge. Your face will get stuck like that if you don’t.”

He sighed, and muttered, “I don’t know what to do with him.”

(Y/N) glanced at the boy who was picking up his sword. “Too angry?”

“Belligerent is more like it.”

She chuckled and patted his back. “Don’t worry. I’ve got him.”

“(Y/N) I don’t think—”

“Relax, dad. I handled Dick’s anger, didn’t I?”

“Damian’s got Dick beat by a longshot. I don’t think he knows any demeanor other than attack.”

(Y/N) waved as she walked towards Damian. “No one’s able to beat Dick’s anger. No one in a million years could reach the level of pissed off Dick Grayson stays at.” Bruce grinned as he watched (Y/N) take the sword and move Damian towards the stairs. “C’mon pint-sized. We’re going to explore Gotham.”

“I do not want to go.” He retorted, pulling away from her.

She grasped the back of his neck like a puppy and held him firmly as they walked and she quipped, “I don’t really give a fuck whether you want to or not. You’ve been raised by homicidal psychopaths since you were born.” She looked down at him. “You need to see the real world.”

“My grandfather and mother aren’t psychopaths!”

“Oh really? So killing people for money or because honor demands it, isn’t psychopathic traits? What about when Ra’s kills people because they disrespect him?”

“That is different!”

“I mean you don’t see me poppin’ caps in people’s asses when they call me a whore, do you?”

Bruce watched the two of them climb the stairs, arguing, and he sighed, sensing Alfred walk next to him.

“Almost reminds you of Master Dick and Miss (Y/N), doesn’t it Master Bruce?”

He looked at Alfred, then smiled and nodded. “In every way, shape, and form.”

Alfred smiled. “It is such a good thing that Miss (Y/N) is the oldest. The boys have needed her.”

“She’s their protector.”

Alfred paused, resting a hand on his shoulder; Bruce met his gaze and saw such a solemnity in them as he said, “She is everyone’s protector, Master Bruce. Even yours.” Alfred walked away, then Bruce turned and looked at the photo resting on the desk. It was the first photo he and (Y/N) had taken in their suits.

He smiled at it and nodded. “That she is.”