#youre on tumblr you understand the concept im sure

[vampfucker666]

so far enjoying the extremely low dose testosterone gel experience. tbh i think i needed a very casual introduction to it bc the process of like..... dr appt, money, sunk cost was so like overwhelming and offputting for me when im a conformist/dont rock the boat type... which is not a trait i admire in myself but its not one im about to put effort in to change either. rn also im enjoying the #weirdgirl outward presentation. i dont think i can mentally handle having a concrete gender identity bc like its just too much fucking work and stepping out of line and etc etc. i guess im worried abt eventually turning into john 50 but like fuck if thats how my life goes thats how it goes i guess.

[vatelixx]

On the concept of ‘want’, (part 1):

Spencer Reid x afab!BAU!reader (written with early-ish seasons Spencer in mind)

part two here.

SMUT!! (and fluff, and aftercare because im not a total hedonist), allusions to both Spencer and Reader being switches (but he’s mostly just down bad), autistic Spencer (the way it should be), mean reader (to everyone but him), reader has a very very high IQ when it comes to everything but a pretty genius— Spencer just wants that cookie so fucking bad.

Warnings: sub spencer (but also not entirely; he talks about human anatomy as he destroys her), maaaaaybe slight corruption kink (what? who wrote that there???), mentions of prior bullying and insecurity, first time (for Spencer, yess devirgin that hot nerd!!— do you think the BAU will get him a cake after?), brief mentions of past hypersexuality for reader, kinda rlly domestic. Some undertones of degradation but predominantly praise. Begging, crying (pussy so good he cried), etc etc

w.c: 5k (I feed)

a/n: Spencer’s first time getting fucked, my first time writing smut (we’re both going through it here). I’ve been watching too much Criminal Minds recently, so i’ve reverted back to my tumblr roots (im home i’m home). This is a new acc so like…. hi!!!

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Right person, right time. It’s a concept that Spencer Reid is more than aware of. Define luck, at surface level, it’s a made-up hypothesis, idealistic, fantastical. Conjured up to aid the desperate (or the delusional). It’s something he refused to humour, obstinate to the notion, well, that was until you came spitballing into his life, sharp features, sharper tongue. You could cut with your words alone, a weapon to the BAU, jagged and fast-thinking, and so entirely unattainable. Rorschach tests, and an endless sea of profilers, it doesn’t matter— he’s not sure anyone is ever capable of truly pinpointing you.

Rocky start— after you became a permanent member to the team, it took months to coerce you into dropping your guard. A year and 14 days, to be exact.

But, it was possible. Hardened words and blunt comments shifted into something more with time. A gravitational pull, perhaps, that led to evolution— you, softer with him, more tender than you’ve ever showcased before.

Maybe it was that night when he told you about highschool, about what they did to him, boys like him, who were too intellectual for their own good. Different, in every sense of the word. Bullying at such a young, impressionable age can have prominent effects, chronic stress inflicted on an underdeveloped brain, they tied him to goal posts, stripped him naked, endless torment that he still carries with him now. Maybe that’s why you lowered your defenses. Put down the sword.

And sure, he never expected anything, nor asked for anything. He was definite that he wouldn’t get to experience cliche-dating. Longing glances and anticipated moments. It’s not like he was ever the most appealing candidate, too nervous, too neurodivergent. It’s hard to grow out of the mentality that no, everyone isn’t making fun of you, not when it consumed the entirety of his adolescence. That you can walk into a room, and not be seen, targeted, as an outcast. He’s just different. But he’s also human, and the chemicals in his brain do make him want.

You apparently. Because, you looked at him softly once, and he was done. Ruined. Gone for good. Or, in Morgan’s personal opinion, whipped.

And illogically, you wanted him too. That wasn’t ever part of the equation.

But theres a pattern now— dates every weekend. Movies, cafes, museums, an endless onslaught of you. Because somehow, thanks to luck, you reciprocated. He’ll never understand why, you’re too beautiful (it’s a hazard), but he tries. He tries.

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December. A haze of christmas markets and blanketing coldness. You kiss him outside and he thinks he might be dying. You make him burn cold. He’s a logical person, so obviously he’s aware that he’s only freezing because your hands are shoved in his pockets, a desperate bid to seek warmth, but regardless, it’s more than he ever expected.

He laughs against your lips, fingers gripping the front of your coat as he draws you backwards so that you’re resting against a wall. “Mm..” he hums, “You should kiss me more often.”

Everyone knows. The entire team is aware of this, an unspoken agreement that your lingering moments and aimless touching are not platonic in the slightest. You work with profilers, secrets are never quite effective. Everyone knows, but it’s taboo, something that needs to be left undisturbed. Do they expect you to break him? Does he? Maybe, maybe it would be worth it— to hurt for you, because it’s always been you. He’ll take anything, he’s not greedy. He’ll live off scraps if he has to, anything to satiate this want that burns solely for you.

“Actually.. you should just always be kissing me,” he suggests, tone soft, “Every day of the week. All the time. And—“ he laughs, “You should also stop stealing body warmth. It’s rude. Hypothermia usually occurs when body temperature dips to around 95F, oh oh but there are so many factors to consider—“

“Is this you trying to imply you’re cold?” you ask.

“Perhaps. Or maybe i’m implying you should be working harder to warm me up.”

You’ve grown soft, he thinks. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this level of affection. But its okay, you justify, mostly because it’s him. Spencer, and his pretty smile, and strange habits (sitting cross legged on tables, drinking coffee with excessive sugar, endless facts and a plethora of soft yearning glances at you when you’re interrogating— as if you’re not tearing an unsub to pieces). It’s terrifying, constant eggshells, because you can’t hurt him. Not like the others, distant fragments of your past.

You laugh in response to his comment, admiring the sight of him: flushed, with swollen lips and dilated eyes. He deserves to be like this, so thoroughly assured that despite all odds, you’re invested. All cards on the table. “You have a lot of requests, boy genius.”

He smiles boyishly. You’re hard lines, sure, a blade that can draw blood, but somehow, somehow, he’s always left unscathed. “Alright,” he answers, “You want requests? Here’s one, stay the night. Come over, stay over, i’ll cook breakfast and try not to burn it— and, and you can have the good side of the bed.”

“Spence,” you mutter, because of course there’s an underlying intention to ‘staying over’ and you're trying to be good here. To not let this fall into your past mistakes of sex and inevitable self-inflicted disgust. A cyclical cycle that clings to your skin. Everything is so new to him, the intimacy, the affection, and it’s nice being able to witness it— to see his reactions to innocuous touches, always disbelieving that he’s capable of this.

Fresh-eyes, so untainted to the sharpness of modern ‘love’.

You cup his face, god, under the dim shadows of the streetlight he’s beautiful. It’s a little alarming to be honest. More so disheartening really, because despite how much you remind him, he never believes you— obstinately refusing your compliments, as if you’d ever mock him. No, he’s different. He’s tender and disarming, and sometimes it feels unholy to touch him with calloused hands.

But, to Spencer, there is nothing unholy to this; the second you touch him, the entire universe crashes down into a singular moment.

“Just stay the night,” he reaffirms. It’s taken him over a month to get to this point, to be able to voice his wants, to comprehend his wants. Now, his thumb traces its way down the side of your face, tangible, real. “And tomorrow morning, there’ll be coffee and pancakes and—“ he laughs, “And there won’t be any regrets. I promise.”

You’re looking at him, wide-eyed and slightly disbelieving (because he’s somehow stumbled through the minefield of you without any consequences). He leans forward, his forehead resting against yours. “Don’t make me beg. I will beg.”

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To confirm, he makes you incautious, irrational, willing to blatantly disregard any sort of control. Of course you end up at his apartment; the moment he mentioned begging, you were already half-way down the street.

Spencer’s place is… well, it’s everything you’d expect of him. Scattered novels adorning the floor, a mess of untidy thoughts, neglected papers on science, endless open textbooks left half-abandoned for other pursuits. It’s so him, clean but discombobulated.

He wants to apologize, make excuses for the lack of order, he probably should. He doesn’t do that though. He only crosses the room, stopping when he’s standing right in front of you, just gazing down. He has no idea what’s to come— for once, there are no patterns, no statistics he can reference.

So, he reaches for you, fingers tugging at the edges of your jacket. “Arms. Up,” he instructs and god, it’s a stupid order, but you follow it without any protest. He folds it over the couch, abandoned. Putting it back on alludes to leaving, and he’s hopeless enough to never want you to leave.

His hands then gravitate back to you and he starts to tug aimlessly at the material of your shirt. It’s been raining, and the fabric is soaked. “Hm,” he hums, “Off. Take it off.”

You laugh at that. Straight to the point. You don’t follow his orders, because one was certainly enough, and you’ve never been the type to obey blindly. Instead, you grip his waist, drive him back towards the nearest surface. An end table, some books go clattering, light damage, they’ll survive. His response is a gasp, a hitch of the breath.

“I was promised the good side of the bed, breakfast, pancakes. But sex? Hm, did you invite me over just to get in my pants? I’m wounded, Reid.” you mutter, pressing a series of soft kisses along the curvature of his jaw.

“No! No,” he retorts, breathless, “I was going to get you some comfortable clothes to change into. Damp clothes breed bacteria. You made this dirty,” Adding, “And not in the way I was concerned about.” under his breath.

You roll your eyes, “Oh, here we go—“ sure, you have the experience he lacks, but you’ve been on your best behavior. Dirty? That’s an insult to the exhausting self-restraint you’ve upheld recently.

“Yes— i’m the dirty one here, clearly.” you scoff, “Just casually corrupting you,” You tug him away from the end-table because you don’t want him bruised in any way, shape or form (it’s actually distressing; when you’re working, you seem hellbent on making sure no one even thinks about laying a hand on him. Unsubs be damned.)

Ego-centric, completely independent, individualistic until he came along.

You push him back against the couch, watching as he stumbles, as he falls. For a minute he just lies there, looking up at you with hazy eyes— pupils dilated and lips parted on a half-pained gasp.

And it’s a sight to see, the brilliant prodigy, the young genius, his normally-composed features now twisted into something stricken. His hands tighten around the material of the couch and he lets out a sound that’s a cross between a whine and a groan.

“Oh—“ that’s just a clear-cut moan, “You can definitely definitely keep corrupting me, in fact I endorse it. Completely.”

“3 PHDS, 2 B.A’s and you’re currently asking me to corrupt you? I don’t know, Doctor Reid, that’s certainly very forward,” you say, moving to sit on his lap, aware that you really should entertain this spot more often, even if you’re at severe risk of deflating.

Deflating. God. When did it come to this?

He laughs, “You’re the only person in this entire world that makes me act without a single coherent thought,” IQ abolished. “So yeah,” he murmurs, fingers tracing mindless patterns across the exposed strip of skin above your waistline. “Defini-definitively corrupt me.”

It’s taken so much to get to this point. So much to unpack, to understand, from Spencer’s perspective. There’s a lifetime of bullying that he has to dismantle, and sometimes he still anticipates the punchline when you kiss him— the biting laughs, not entirely dissimilar to school, when someone would belittle him, fake being his friend just for entertainment value.

So, when you stumble into the bedroom, when you remove his shirt, he knows this is improvement. He’s fighting this internal battle, unsure on how he should act: coy or defiant. Both, really. He wants to cover himself up, to pretend like you don’t disarm him, to fight and fight until you make him bleed. Anything, he’ll take anything from you.

“You are so so pretty,” you mutter when he’s sprawled out across the bed. You’ve never been someone to resort to praise; sex had always been cold and clinical, something to relieve stress, to undermine the burden of work, and the endless weight of sanguinary. But now? If he is the eye of the storm, then you’ll happily commit to the chaos of this.

“Careful, you’ll make me inherit a disorder here.” he mutters. Narcism— he’s the least likely to ever develop such symptoms. “Or cry. I could cry, it’s a potential. Maybe break-down?”

“Or,” he adds, his hands tracing up towards your shoulder blades. “All of the above. The trifecta of issues. It’s very likely.”

He rolls over on top, you’re down to just your lingerie now, pretty lace contrasting against your skin. Removing your clothes had been a whole ordeal, he’s fairly certain he almost died; you’re the epitome of beautiful, and he’s not sure how he ended up with everything when he was so resolute, silently accepting, he would always obtain nothing.

“I want to kiss you, but I don’t know, I feel like my body has lost the ability to function at the moment.” he breathes out.

“You should definitely kiss me,” you confirm, posing it as a choice, one that he has any say over— when in reality, youre already tugging him closer. Lips meeting lips. It’s not sane how the world fades into a nebulous haze the moment your mouths connect; time remains constant, logistically, nothing has changed. But it’s just so much that for a moment you doubt the concept of existence, doubt everything but him.

Genius falling for genius. Only you could laugh when he traces molecules into your skin. Spelling out words with elements: Livermorium, Uranium. LV U, it might not be an exact replica of the three worded phrase, but it certainly gets the point across.

“Spence—“ you bite into his lip, tugging the soft tissue between your teeth.

He groans, whimpers, pulls you closer, eliminating every infinitesimal distance between, slotting his hips against yours. He draws away from your mouth, lips leaving a trail of kisses down your neck as he reaches for your hand, interlocking his fingers with yours and pinning it against the bed. His free one is now wandering, slipping beneath your panties to touch.

“Do you know how much I studied about human anatomy after you first kissed me?”

“Weeks.” he answers when you respond with a muffled groan. Your hands are on his back now, tracing the journey of his spine. He’s in over his head, but there’s so much want, so much he wants to do but never thought he would be capable of. And oh, when he begins to draw circles against your clit, slow experimental halos, those soft touches of yours evolve into grasping, gripping. By the time he’s got a finger slotted inside, he’s fairly certain he’s being scratched. Nail indents and faint white lines, souvenirs.

“I know about every erogenous zone the human body possesses, every single one.” He says, because whilst he might lack in physical experience, he has enough intellect to memorize placement, biology. Plus, he’s a fast learner. His finger bends, and both of you moan.

“Spence— fuck, feels good.” you gasp, tangled hands clutching tighter, tighter again until your knuckles are white and you’re trembling.

The human body is something of a fascination to him; the way it reacts, how each nerve and ligament can respond to even the most tentative of touches. But you aren’t every human, you are you, and he has an insatiable desire to discover and catalog every single response your body gives.

He adds another finger, slowly, eyes fixed on your face, gauging the reaction. When he curls both digits, a sharp exhale is your response. “I’m convinced I’ve discovered new anatomy facts in the last few months, just because of you.”

Maybe it’s not fair that he’s so good. First times are supposed to be fumbling and awkward, a mess of hormones and inexperience. To say you haven’t been touched like this before is a severe understatement. The meaningless sex, the onslaught of bodies doesn’t measure up to him, the way he’s so focused on how you respond, on what your body enjoys— it would be endearing (and it is!), but you're currently too preoccupied to voice such a notion.

“Doing so good, holy shit—“ you mutter, blissed out beyond comprehension. You're making art on his back, only vaguely aware of the pain. Though when you realize you’ve scarred his skin, you're drawing away, moving to tangle your hand in his hair instead. But Spencer doesn’t even care, doesn’t even register the inflictions; he likes the physical marks you leave behind, a tangible remnant of all you do to him.

And sure, he’d laugh, usually, at your responses. But it’s hard to laugh, when his own ability to form any coherent sound has been completely destroyed. He’s a mess, his breathing shaky, and his brain is a constant buzz of fragmented musings consisting of you, you, you.

He draws his fingers out, earning a discernible groan, maybe a fuck you (which he does intend to do). But right now, he’s already slotting his face between your thighs, removing those soaked, ruined, panties of yours. He doesn’t have a single thing to compare it to. But he already knows this is his favorite place to be, and he’s fairly certain he’ll be spending most nights between your thighs, learning and memorizing every reaction and noise, each movement, and the ways to repeat them.

He runs his tongue along your clit, savoring just how wet you are, a mess that he can bury his face into. You’re looking down at him with something akin to shock now, and he can only laugh, blow air against your clit, then drag his tongue back over the sensitive bud, drawing it into his mouth to suck.

His movements are tentative at first, unpractised, but soon gaining confidence. He doesnt need to do this, you're aware— you could take him now. And yet, hes here, between your thighs for no reason other than want. Your reaction is visceral, because it’s always been about efficiency in the past, quick touches to get you there before the other person can derive their own pleasure from the act.

He’s not like that. God, hes not like that at all.

“Oh,” is all you can say, gripping his hair down to the root, instructing each movement until he gains incentive, finding repeat patterns that your body reacts to. Then, you can only arch and moan, noises filtered out into the air. He’s back to opening you up now, two deft fingers pressed inside, working diligently to tear you apart.

“Oh? That’s all you have to say to me? Oh?” he retorts.

“Shut up,” you huff, “Put that mouth of yours to work.”

“Mhm— I plan to. God, you’re so perfect.” he mutters, voice distorted, muffled. “That’s it—“ he fights the urge to explain exactly what’s occurring in your body every time his fingers abuse that spot. Instead, he keeps his mouth busy.

He’s certain he’s memorized most areas of your body from years of pining, and that’s what brings him an unrepentant sense of satisfaction. Because he was memorizing your body, you, long before he even got the chance to touch or taste you.

“Wanna stay here,” he says, and he’s being petulant now, because there’s something so good about being reduced to movements. To follow the pattern, to take care of your body, mindless to anything else but you. Pussy-drunk, to put it less eloquently.

“Shit,” you buck up against his mouth, watching as he buries his face entirely into you, as he replaces his fingers with his tongue, nose bumping bumping your clit, consuming his senses entirely.

“Use my face, yeah. ‘M all yours anyway.”

“Fuck, fuck fuck— Spence. Gonna cum—“

When you fall apart, inevitable, he doesn’t stop— not until you’re boneless and spent beneath him. Back arching, stars burning through closed eyes. Pretty constellations that have you blissed out beyond belief. The pleasure is white-hot, feverish in intensity.

And then he’s moving, shifting his body back over you. He’s all soft touches and languid kisses against your mouth, not bothering to break contact as he settles himself fully over you, the weight of his hips pressing into yours. He’s hard, dick pushing up against his boxers, his sexual libido had always been low until you came into his life. Now, his wants seem to fight for release constantly.

“My turn, I believe.” he grins, pressing a kiss to your jaw, “Not that you have to, of course. It’s not an obligation, uh— more so a beg?”

“Of course it’s an obligation,” he goes to protest, to say you don’t owe him anything, so you sigh. “A thankyou, maybe?”

Fumbling hands, still shaky from pleasure, undo buttons. Unclasping his belt, removing loose fabric until he's bare before you. There’s something nervous to his gaze, something unspoken, lingering in the air. “Hey, hey. I’ve got you, yeah? You’re okay,” you promise, before your eyes shamelessly look down. He’s straining, pre-cum lingering at his tip, dick pressed up against his stomach now. “Fuck, okay— yeah. Good. Great even.” first time you've ever stumbled over a sentence in your life.

There’s so much to be concerned about. The fact he’s naked, that you could destroy everything with a few serrated words, years and years of rebuilding, reconstructing. But you don’t— and he can’t help but laugh nervously. “Glad to be up to your standards. I’d uh, hate to disappoint.”

“Always the over-achiever,” you respond, shifting away from him— there’s amusement to your expression when he groans, pitifully, when he rolls onto his back, draping an arm over his face.

Predictable. Condoms in his bedside table. At least he's prepared. You open the wrapper with your teeth, discarding it somewhere amongst the tangle of limbs and sheets, too hellbent on finding him again.

Oh, in this position, you have full, unrestricted view of his body. Endless planes of skin, begging to be marked, sentenced indefinitely to your touch. By the time you straddle his hips, hes a flushed mess beneath you. “I— um, you look really really pretty right now.” he stumbles, idiot.

His dilated eyes take you in. Every contour and curve, the way your hair hangs over your face, eyes up eyes up eyes up. He fails when you run your hand across his dick, thumb brushing against the tip. By the time you’ve slipped the condom over him, hes gone. Bucking and moaning, and so so much better than his hand could ever be.

He wants to be inside of you, but it’s hard to think right now, let alone vocalize the words. I want, he thinks, I want everything, with you.

Your name is on his tongue, muttered and repeated, a reverent prayer of sorts. He needs to gain back his control here, to return to equal footing.

“Yeah—“ he breathes out, “So much of an overachiever, considering I had you making all of those noises—“ his words falter, die out, when you sink down. When you take him. Wrapped around, tight. Warm heat that sets alight every nerve in his overstimulated body. He has half the mind to apologize for his comment because you’re about to ruin him, he knows.

“I thought you wanted me to corrupt you, hm?” you retort. The pace is slow, mostly for his own sanity. Though, the feel of him, the way he slots into you, warm skin pressed against warm skin is intoxicating, and it’s a battle to keep your composure. To not just fall apart under the weight of him.

“What’s that, pretty boy? Struggling? Because you were so egotistical a few seconds ago? Where’s all that ego gone? Straight between your legs, I think.”

A whimper. It’s a whimper, a pained thing ripped straight from his throat. He’s making indiscernible noises now, messy sounds pooling from his swollen lips. The praise, the strained undertones of degradation? It’s too much. But god does he love you for it, because that’s you through and through. Sharp, and brittle to everyone but him, he wants to look, he does, albeit he has to turn his head to the side, bury half of his face in a pillow because he’s gone. At this point, he can only take it.

“I— um, mhm. Yeah,” he slurs. He’s almost incoherent at this point; he’s been reduced to nothing, just a mass of skin, bone, and flesh at your disposal, to own and use and he can’t find it in himself to feel humiliated about it, not when it’s you.

“Can’t— um, I was wrong, you’re— oh god,” the sounds of your body hitting his, back arching as your pace picks up. “Oh, ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry —baby, can’t, can’t take it. That’s…”

It’s a lot for his first time, that’s for certain.

“Yes, you you can. I know you can, Spence.” you mutter, interlocking your fingers, letting them hang near your hips. “You feel so good— so so fucking good. Look at you, so brain dead for me. Taking it all so well, love.”

Love?— oh he wants to be buried with that one. He’s a mindless disaster, impenetrably devoted to you alone.

He doesn’t even know how he’s saying words at this point, it’s as if his brain-to-mouth connection has been severed by your very presence itself. It’s not possible to form a coherent thought when you’re riding him like this, taking him so deep that he’s seeing stars. There’s tears pooling in his eyes, he looks pretty when he cries. Especially when it’s derived from pleasure, when he can let go of the burdens, everything he’s endured, when it’s just sensation. Nothing more, no more thoughts.

There’s safety here, an element of home, home home bliss, that has him keening. He wants to stay buried here forever, where nothing can ever hurt him again. When it’s just you, and your pretty words, and your exploitative power to destroy him. You never do, anyway. Even when you could, you restrain.

“Can’t, ’m gonna…, Please, please, don’t stop.” he whines, “Pleasepleaseplease— oh, can’t— I can’t.”

He grips you tight, rolls you over, mostly so he can feel you closer. The sight of you riding him was excruciating, but this is worse because now there’s no gap separating you. Now, he can bury his face into the crook of your neck, burn himself in the warmth of your touch.

“Spence..” you mutter.

“I know. I know—“ hes ruined, sloppy thrusts, whimpers catching against the stifling air. “Feels s’good.”

He doesn’t know what to do, how to breathe, so he just runs his thumb over your clit, watching your prominent reaction, watching as you gasp, moan— oh, and then you’re clenching around him, tightening the pleasure, and yesyesyes.

You’re too gone, moving still, and he can only cant his hips forwards, buck and squirm until he’s sobbing under the weight of your ministrations, releasing so hard that he can barely remember his name, no cognitive function, in the haze of his orgasm.

“There’s my boy— so pretty for me.” he can vaguely hear you saying, and if you’re talking him through it, he can only hear snippets of praise now anyway.

“Mhm— mhm. Yours, yeah.” he mumbles, body sinking against the sheets, a few little whimpers escaping his lips as you milk the rest of his pleasure from him.

Tangled limbs and sweat-stained skin. “You okay?” you ask in the aftermath.

“So okay,” he agrees, shifting closer, back pressed against your torso— sue him for being little spoon.

──────────────────

The next morning, you wake to an absence of Spencer. It’s unsettling, to say the least. So, you're quick to fumble over the buttons of one of his shirts, fabric creased, matching the tousled nature of your hair, disheveled, remnants of the ruination of last night.

For a moment, you consider that he might’ve left — but there he is, in the kitchen, attempting to make breakfast.

“Hey,” you mutter, leaning against the counter to watch.

Scratches adorn his back, indent marks from your nails, crescent reminders, stain his waist, and he’s content to wear them. If anything, he can’t wait to add to the budding collection.

Pancakes. The good side of the bed. Coffee. All of his promises from last night are being thoroughly met, even if he’s burning the food, and shit, he didn’t realize the coffee would be finished so soon. For all his calculations, he’s fairly off-center today.

And then, you come padding across his kitchen, embellished in only his shirt, unbuttoned near the top to expose your collarbone, and he’s fairly certain the last remainders of his IQ disappear.

“Hi! Hi,” he says, wide-eyed, “Um, making.. breakfast. You look, wow yeah.”

Breakfast lays forgotten.

[cheolaholic]

ring of love; csc (07)

summary; agreeing to join vernon spectate an underground boxing match wasn't how you'd expect to spend your friday night. you also didn't expect to see seungcheol, someone you've lost contact with for years, become a part of the ring.

modern! au • boxer! au • hhu focused • multiple kinds of tropes • fluff, angst, smut

a/n;; im gonna be honest, i had no clue as to how im gonna write chapter 7 so i took a short break. that ended with me diving head first into love and deepspace which now has led me to a new obsession – Sylus. if you saw that post i made abt LNDS a few weeks ago, that has manifested into a side blog @chaeriescola where i’ll be posting my-non kpop related fics (read: Sylus & Zayne brainrot) also, i’m on Patreon now !! if you join my Patreon, you’ll get early access to the fics (a week early before they get posted on tumblr & ao3), exclusive bonus content, sneak peeks of other projects etc. if you’d like these special treats, feel free to join 👀 enough of me yapping, onto the fic~

Seungcheol wasn’t exactly sure what he was expecting when he tasked Mingyu and Vernon to look after you – considering how they both absolutely suck at understanding the whole “look after ___ for me but, don’t let her catch you” concept. He’s seen them tail behind you, possibly raising concerns in some students and staff whether they were stalking you from the moment they spotted you.

coups: can’t you two be more discreet? coups: you both look like you’re the worst stalkers gameboi: ? tallgyu: I think we’re doing a good job alien-non: yea, she hasn’t noticed us gameboi: you really got Mingyu and Hansol to tail after ___? gameboi: no offense to all 3 of you gameboi: but Hansol’s logic is practically gone if Mingyu’s leading tallgyu: HEY alien-non: I suggested we wear disguises but Mingyu didn’t want to! tallgyu: those weirdly shaped sunglasses are way too obvious coups: what you’re doing now is way more obvious! tallgyu: she hasn’t noticed us tallgyu: it’s fine hyung coups: Vernon alien-non: yes coups: you know how aware ___ is of her surroundings coups: she’s probably already spotted you both gameboi: but chose not to say anything

As if on cue, when they both turned a corner, they were both startled to come face-to-face with you, arms crossed, staring right at them.

“You’ve both been following me for the past hours, can I help you?” you ask, eyes narrowing when they both exchange a look.

“Well…” Mingyu started, “We… We just wanted to make sure you didn’t get lost…?”

Vernon mentally facepalms at Mingyu’s response while you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion, “To make sure I wouldn’t get lost…? On a campus I’ve been attending for at least 2 years…?”

“Seungcheol hyung wanted us to look after you,” Vernon confesses, “I don’t know why, but he just told us to keep an eye on you.”

“And, so, you’ve decided to follow me around?”

“Mingyu was the one who suggested it…”

“You both would make terrible secret agents…” Seungcheol mumbled as he came up behind you, wrapping an arm around your waist as he sent glares to the two younger males. “Cheol, I’m a big girl now – I can handle myself!”

“I know, I know,” he admits, “And, I’m sorry, pup-”

“Pup? You call her ‘pup’?” Your ears burned red at Mingyu’s question, forgetting that not everyone grew up with you and Seungcheol or knowing the reason that he calls you that.

“It’s a nickname I gave her while we were growing up,” Seungcheol answers, “And, it stuck with her since.”

“She grew up with you? Oh, you poor thing,” Mingyu faked cries as he pulls you into an embrace, “He must’ve picked on you non-stop.”

“Actually, he didn’t pick on me.” The taller male pulls away, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion at your answer. “He stood for me and may or may not have threatened the people that did pick on me.” He looks at Seungcheol with a look of betrayal, “That’s not fair! Why does she get special treatment while you keep picking on me!?”

Seungcheol pries Mingyu away from you, his arm returning to its position on your waist as he answers, “Because you’re Mingyu, and she’s… she’s ___.”

‘Well… this is… awkward…’ you thought to yourself as you sat in front of Wonwoo, one of the other boys you had briefly met that night. Seungcheol suggested you meet the three of them altogether, mainly Mingyu and Wonwoo since you were already best friends with Vernon, to somewhat break the ice.

‘Choi Seungcheol, you ass, this is anything but breaking the ice! If anything, this is increasing the freezing point of the ice!’

Unfortunately, Seungcheol’s plan of grabbing lunch together is now facing a setback. You had no classes that day, Wonwoo finished his, but Seungcheol, Mingyu and Vernon were being held back for their classes.

“Seungcheol, I’ve only met him once!” you whisper-shouted into your phone, “And, neither of us exchanged a single conversation since!”

“I know, I know,” Seungcheol answers, wracking his head to come up with solutions, “But, this lecturer is talking so slow that I have no choice!”

“What about Vernon and Mingyu?”

A sigh was heard, “Apparently, the model was being fussy about how she should be posing for their portrait. The lecturer needed her to be partially clothed, but since Mingyu was in the class… You can fill in the blanks…”

You let out a sigh, looking into the windows of the cafe as Wonwoo sits at a booth near the pick-up counter, “How much longer until you all are able to get here?”

“Probably an hour… And another 20 minutes to get there. Hey, you and Wonwoo both like drinking coffee and are introverts! Maybe you both can try talking to break the ice.”

Oh, boy, did Seungcheol underestimate the introversion you and Wonwoo possess. You had initially tried to have small talk with him, only to chicken out when he looked at you with that piercing gaze through his glasses. It’s been half an hour since you sat down at the booth with him, your strawberry milkshake sitting on a coaster as he goes to order possibly his third cup of cappuccino.

When he returns with his drink, you can’t help but ask, “Isn’t that… too much caffeine…?”

Wonwoo seemed a bit taken back when you finally opened your mouth to talk, but he recovers quickly and shrugs, “Honestly, after drinking caffeine for years, you kind of grow immune to it. You should’ve seen Mingyu’s reaction when he found me sleeping after downing 5 cans of Monster.”

“Five!?”

“Yes, five.”

“And, you were still able to sleep?”

“Like a baby.”

Wonwoo was surprisingly easy to talk to – you just needed to get over your social anxiety and the very intimidating resting bitch face he has. You’ve come to learn that the man in front of you was GAM3BO1WOO, a famous game streamer on SVTwitch. You’ve seen a few of his stream clips on your feed, but you weren’t exactly a fan of his since his taste in games and yours were vastly different.

“Do you play every new game release?” you asked, scrolling through his MAESTRO account and skimming through his posts.

“It depends, actually. If a new game really catches my eye, then I’ll download it. Other than that, either the companies sponsored me to stream their games, my followers keep requesting that I play the game they think would suit me or want to see me play. Sometimes, Mingyu and Cheol would gift me co-op games since a lot of them have the mechanic of if one player already owns the game, the second player plays for free.”

“Have you ever hopped on trends?”

“It drives traffic and increases my followers, can’t really complain.”

You’re not sure how long you’ve been conversing with Wonwoo. But, it was definitely long enough for neither of you to notice the three men standing right outside the window, watching you two fondly and surprised. “They’re… talking…” Mingyu says in awe, a chuckle from Seungcheol following afterwards, “Nice to know two of our introverts are getting along just fine.”

You noticed them from the corner of your eyes, turning to the window, Wonwoo following to look at them. You smiled, giving them a small wave which they returned while the latter gave a small nod of his head.

“Sorry for keeping the two of you waiting,” Seungcheol apologised the second he got to the booth, taking a seat next to you. Mingyu and Vernon took their seats next to Wonwoo after placing their orders at the counter. “Aren’t you going to get anything?” you asked the older male, looking up at him as you took a sip from your milkshake.

“I’m assuming you’re waiting for me so you can order some kind of snack which we either share or I finish the remaining you can’t.” When you don’t answer and avert his gaze, Seungcheol knows he caught you red-handed. He chuckles as he gets out of the booth and towards the counter, which unfortunately for you, leads to an interrogation by the other three boys – technically, it was mainly Mingyu with the occasional questioning from Vernon. Wonwoo just sits quietly, listening in as his eyes would dart between you, your two ‘interrogators’ and Seungcheol who was still lining up.

The two men asked you the questions you’d expect.

“How old were you when you met Seungcheol hyung?”

“I think… I think I was 5? He should be about 7 or 8?”

“What did he look like back then? Did he look like a nerd?”

“Well, he had the signature bowl kid every boy got when they were kids or teens.”

“Was he scary?”

“Kind of? Not a lot of people messed with me because of how protective he was over me.”

“Mess with little red riding hood, the big bad wolf will come and get you.”

All attention was on Seungcheol as he placed a plate of strawberry cake and a plate of a dozen brownies on the table, returning to his seat right next to you. Noticing the stunned expressions from his peers, he shrugs, “That was what they’d always say to anyone trying to approach her with ill intentions. It’s basically their way of saying ‘if you don’t want trouble, don’t go looking for trouble’.”

An easier way to put it was – if you don’t want to deal with an angry Seungcheol, don’t bother his girl. Your heart still flutters at how some people referred to you as ‘his girl’, but you knew that actually being his girl was nothing more than a dream to you. “By the way hyung, when’s your next fight? Maybe ___ could come and help out, y’know?” Vernon asks, reaching out to grab a brownie only for his hand to be lightly slapped by Seungcheol. “Ow! What was that for!?”

“If you want them, go get them yourselves,” the older male answers, pushing the plate of brownies towards you. “These are for ___. If you want one, go get one yourself.” Your face heats up at the gesture, and heats up further when the three males turn to you. “Why does she get special treatment?” Mingyu whines, “And how can she possibly finish that entire plate?”

Seungcheol pats your head as he answers, “Because she’s ___. And, yes, she can. If she can’t, I’ll finish it.”

“Can we have a piece if you’re the one finishing it up?”

“No, get your own.”

“Ah, hyung!”

You’ve managed to bond with Wonwoo and Mingyu, becoming close with them in a matter of days and now, you’ve got four ‘bodyguards’ walking around with you (Mingyu refers to them as that, the others and you just play along). The downside that comes with the friendship would be a flock of envious fangirls (and occasionally fanboys) who had begun to buzz around you like moths attracted to light.

“How did you become friends with Wonwoo? Could you ask him to shout me out on his streams or MAESTRO account?”

“Is Mingyu single? Could you introduce me to him?”

“Would you like to be friends? I’d love to be friends with the boys!”

Both boys could see you were tired of the clout chasers, especially Wonwoo since he knows you value your personal space. Both men had taken the issue to their social media, expressing how they’d appreciate it if their ‘fans’ stopped bugging their friends and loved ones in an attempt to get close with them. You remembered when both of them addressed the issue on Wonwoo’s stream, the sternness in both their voices still sent shivers down your spine.

“We understand that you may think you know us as we both are content creators and certain information has been released about us online. While we may not be able to put an end to the parasocial relationship that you have built with us, we do not know you and you do not know us. Do not harass our friends and loved ones, and if your unhealthy obsession of us persists, please seek help.”

That was enough for a majority of the fanboys/fangirls to back off. Some still linger, but they were no longer up close and in your face bombarding you with questions or requests.

Currently, Wonwoo, Mingyu and Vernon sat in a discussion room within the library as they waited for Seungcheol and you. It was a small meet-up, but it could also be treated as a short co-working/co-studying meet-up. Your class was ending later than usual and Seungcheol offered to wait for you so both of you could walk to the library.

Beauty and the Beasts

mingoo: @princess how much longer is the lecture gonna take?

princess: erm… another 15 mins?

princess: …

princess: who set my nickname as princess in the gc?

All four boys replied altogether and you playfully rolled your eyes.

mingoo: coups hyung

vernonnie: cheol hyung

nonu: seungcheol

cheol: i did

cheol: i got you your coffee order btw

mingoo: what about us?

cheol: you lot already got your orders before you headed to the library

mingoo: i’m assuming you got her snacks too

cheol: yes

cheol: and they’re only for ___

cheol: so don’t try to steal them

Mingyu lets out a groan as he lays his upper body on the table. “It’s not fair,” he whines, “Why does Seungcheol hyung give ___ special treatment? Is it because she’s a girl?” Vernon shrugs, “Maybe? But, he’s treated his exes the same way, too.”

“Yeah, I know that, Vernon. But, isn’t there something different?”

Mingyu sits up as he looks at Vernon, his words seeming to be hinting at something as the younger male sits in silence. “It’s like he’s more attentive, more caring. Like, he was caring before to the other girls, but there’s this extra layer to it, y’know?”

“He means there’s more than meets the eye,” Wonwoo says, “I think what Mingyu’s trying to say is that Seungcheol is whipped for ___.”

“Yes!” Mingyu exclaims, pointing at Wonwoo with a puppy-like grin on his face, “But, also no? I don’t know! They grew up together so maybe it’s like a habit he has or a sense of responsibility he feels?”

“But, who would want to call their childhood best friend who is now an adult ‘pup’?” Vernon questions, and Wonwoo tips his pencil in the younger male’s direction, “Precisely. Everyone would grow out of it, much less a nickname like that. Hell, would you call any of your friends that kind of name as an adult?”

Mingyu hums in understanding. All three of them knew just how shameless Seungcheol could be sometimes. Vernon bites back a gag when he recalls accidentally witnessing Seungcheol and his then girlfriend making out in his car, in the campus’ parking lot - in broad daylight. He pitied his therapist who had to listen to him ramble on and on about suspecting the older male having an exhibitionist kink.

“So, you really think he’s whipped for her?”

“Seungcheol barely remembers your favourite cake, but he remembers ___’s coffee order.”

“He probably has it written down somewhere?”

“I beg to differ,” Vernon speaks up.

He joined Seungcheol to get coffee a few weeks ago. While Seungcheol was ordering his, you had texted Vernon saying your Business Module class had completely drained you and you were in need of a quick pick me up. All he did was say, “___ wants us to help get her coffee,” and Seungcheol began reciting your order to the barista without a second thought.

“He knew it like the back of his hand! Not a single thing was missed out!”

As Mingyu and Vernon continue to discuss Seungcheol's love life, Wonwoo glances down at his phone as it vibrates, a notification from you. Opening up the text app on his laptop, he types out his reply.

___: hey woo?

___: is it ok if i call you that-

wonwoo: yes?

wonwoo: n yes, perfectly fine

___: ok

___: um, so the class im in rn, we’re almost done btw!

___: they need me to write some kind of paper abt how psychology n business work

___: n since you’re a psych major

wonwoo: you need my help, yes?

___: bingo

___: is it possible for you to help me?

wonwoo: sure thing

wonwoo: why don’t you go over the details with me once you’re out of class?

wonwoo: we’ve booked the discussion room for the entire day

___: don’t the others have class?

Wonwoo can feel Mingyu and Vernon standing behind him as they “observe” his conversation with you. “Oooh, you’re texting his girl~” Mingyu teases, earning a glare from the older male that shuts him up immediately. “She needs help with her coursework and I have relevant information that can help her,” he replies as he resumes to type out his reply.

wonwoo: seungcheol only has one class today iirc

wonwoo: gyu and vernon have some kind of workshop in an hour

___: oh, cool!

___: then i can also get cheollie’s opinion

“Do you think they have a thing for each other?” Vernon asks, seemingly picking up on certain signs just from the text Wonwoo had just exchanged with you.

“Who? Seungcheol hyung and ___?” Mingyu asks back and he nods. The taller male thinks for a while, recalling the times that he’s seen any form of interaction or exchanged conversation the pair have shared. “Maybe? But, there weren’t any obvious signs that explicitly showed that Seungcheol or ___ like the other.”

“Well, there is a saying that love is in plain sight. Or that whole “you were hiding in plain sight” trend that was going around CIRCLES a few months ago.”

“Should we play cupid?”

“I think it’d be best if we don’t interfere with their love life.”

Wonwoo had a point. While their curiosity was gnawing away, the last thing they’d wanna do is accidentally driving a wedge between you and Seungcheol. It would be worse if they were reading the room wrong and neither of you were harbouring any feelings for the other. “But, that doesn’t mean we can’t find some clues to answer our hypothesis.”

Mingyu and Vernon looked at the older male who was still typing on his laptop. “Are we conducting experiments on them now?”

“I wouldn’t put it that way. I’d say it’s more of observing their interactions with each other.”

“We’ll leave the psychology part to the psych major.”

“If this ends up being your thesis paper, Woo, we’d better be given credits.”

Later that night…

gyu created the group Operation Cupid 💘

taglist (unable to tag a few ㅠㅠ)

@yoonclip @1004luvangel @catjunhui @mystikha @spk93 @tinkerbell460 @yoozuku @dnylwooo @christinewithluv @limbomoon @plutoxxxworld @i-give-up-1234 @m1ngyuc0re @yunloyal @leclercloverbot @bettybeako @billboard-singer @ocyeanicc @krupyadoorrahe @seobinnieshi @xcynthiaaa @k411z @disneyprincesshuri @sunnyapp @khxsh @staygenezy @loufi8iepuff @ursweetner @noisypapergalaxy @wonwootakemyheart @sugainpinksweater @leah-rose03 @thisisnothelastofus @yearnoclock @kwonhoeshi @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @ru-lin @deobiforever @belladaises @cheoliekkuma @duskunt1ldawn @hyneyedfiz @marshmallowshouse @ak6ko @chwevernonlover @jejuboo-s @tsukinluv @atinytinaa @gyros-cum-sock @soupbinlily @jungwoos-luvr @ener-energy @watermelon-sugars-things @cyberpunkhwx @ddaengpotate @nightwingsrobbinhoods @chaerrylov3r @joshuaahong @wonussmile @uliceeeeeeee @wonwoo24 @shinetogether17 @simplejihoon @luvkpopp @shingbangyes @black-swan-blog27 @minhui896

[amayzingmayzie]

!!!PLEASE READ THE WHOLE POST BEFORE COMMENTING!!! IM JUST SHARING MY HYPOTHESIS FROM WHAT IVE SEEN!!!

An argument I've seen on StEx Tumblr is "the new costumes don't look like trains!!!"

I think this is a semi-valid statement. I think that's right. They don't look completely like real trains. However, I think that maybe some people forget that they're toys. They aren't meant to look like real trains, and never were.

I can hear some people now: "But Bri!!! They might have been made to look more like model toy trains!! Now they just look weird!!!"

Now, I'm not going to say every costume is perfect. However, I think they were not only trying to modernize the story, but also the concept of the toy trains themselves. They now resemble plastic toy trains (in my eyes, at least), which makes sense for a kid nowadays. Kids don't really have model trains anymore. Hell, even Thomas is more colorful now, I'm pretty sure! I think people may also overlook the fact that toys are very vibrant and colorful. Kids like vibrant and colorful things.

I think I can also understand where the outrage is coming from a little bit because, as far as I've seen, there's an overwhelming disregard for Control in the fandom. In my mind, it makes a lot more sense for the toys to be more vibrant and colorful now that we can see the child playing with them. The story is still based on imagination, but now we are reminded more often that they ARE toys. Maybe people in this fandom don't like that? I'm not too sure.

(I also think it's incredibly rude to assume that the professional costume designer has never seen the show that they're working on?? Hello??)

In the end, I firmly believe it's ok to have whatever opinion you want about the costumes/productions, as long as you aren't being a complete dick about it. I personally hardly think the Bochum costumes look like trains either, but it's ok. I can suspend my belief in favor of the great storytelling and memorable characters! I really love the 2024 production, but it's not perfect.

If you read this far, thank you so much! Please correct me if I'm FACTUALLY incorrect about anything! I'd love to know your opinions and have civil discussions about it!

🩷💗🩷

[bettertwin1]

Im not transphobic, i just find this shit genuinely weird. Also wtf were those tags on ur response. This shit gross. Also what do you mean by the most lgtbq fandom? I have seen plently of people who agree with me. Explain to me how a star is a pronoun..

-paragraph anon

Hating on someone for identifying in a way you don't understand, that identity falling under the transgender umbrella, that's transphobic i'm p sure. Sometimes she/he/they doesn't encapsulate the identity of the person, neopronouns are for those who feel that those pronouns do not fully describe or explain how they present themself, it's just another form of identification. Neopronouns explains the unexplainable gender people feel.

Star/Starself pronouns make me happy and comfortable so i'll use them. Why is this such a hard concept for you and others to grasp?

Do you have a problem with men using she/her or women using he/him? Do you get mad when someone who isn't presenting "non binary enough" uses they/them? Will you get mad if someone used it/its pronouns? What about those who don't use them at all? masc presenting female using she/her, fem presenting male using he/him. What about Ze/Zir or Xy/Xem? Does that make you angry? Some people use their name as a pronoun, doesn't that blow your mind?

Gender identity isn't real, Pronouns are just little things that don't matter, what's real is that we are all gonna die anyway so why waste time complaining about how other people live their life?

This is the most lgbtq fandom btw and ur on tumblr which is the most lgbtq site to be on...? R u lost?

[onlyjaeyun]

one thing i have decided is that i should just..stop explaining myself and my choices at any given time bc at the end of the day this is MY blog and MY smau and MY characters and I get to decide what to do and how to do it and there's no point in trying so hard to adjust everything to everyone's liking bc there will ALWAYS be someone who's mad and triggered and annoyed and bothered and critical no matter what i do and hinestly atp im just..tired 😭

im one of the worst people pleaser ever but i have noticed that as soon as i start shifting my focus on the things people tell me to do differently (regardless of if i asked or not) i lose motivation bc i feel dictated and controlled.

what i'm trying to say is: if you feel triggered, mad or bothered by my smaus and choices, i unfortunately don't really know what to do other than try my best to be considerate but at the end of the day, your triggers are not my responsibility.

sending so much love to everyone and i know this will make me receive a lot of criticism but i'm willing to deal with it bc after 5 years in the tumblr writing community i have realised that i gotta stop pleaskng everyone and focus on myself and what i want bc this is MY art.

additionally to this: i started off quite strong with the depictions of my reader insert from hype boy through poison and SB all the way to CH did i go with the same concept of a reader insert, so im probably not gonna change it anytime soon bc it's what i feel the most comfortable with. and i know people dont get the whole why reader insert if you're gonna give them a face claim anyway but to me it's mostly bc i HATE writing in third/first person and i simply dont wanna create ocs. on top of that it's nothing new and has been done for quite a while. there are plenty of smau writers who take the reader insert literally and if that's what you're looking for, you should go and read that. no harsh feelings, nothing but love. i just wanna be sure i write for myself and myself only from now on 🩷

edit: a huge thank you to everyone who sent me an ask regarding the whole reader insert x trigger situation, i genuinely appreciate everyone's input on this topic and i hope you understand my decision of not responding to asks bc i have already come to a conclusion (mostly withy our help too) so thank you so much. i love you 💗

[amiableness]

hi! first of all i wanted to say that i’m really excited for your new remus series, the concept is so interesting and it inspired me to get back into writing fanfic. i had two blogs back in 2020/2021 and engagement was horrible back then too even though i think it was a peak moment in the fandom because of lockdown. what got me through it was my mutuals who i added on discord/interacted with on tumblr. sometimes you need another writer to motivate you or bounce ideas with. i also started to leave authors notes at the end of my fics asking people to let me know what they thought either about something specific or general. i’m sorry about your lack of motivation and i hope you find it again! -m

hi babe! first off, im so so glad to hear that my rem series inspired you to start writing again. i am so honored to hear that, truly. i honestly think its the best feeling when you read someone’s work and it sparks you to want to write again. i have so many amazing authors i can credit for that feeling.

secondly, im so sorry your two blogs didn’t have much engagement. it’s so frustrating and discouraging, but im so glad you’re still around on this app!

i have mutuals on here who i get giddy when they pop up in my notifs ( hello @moonlightspencie @moonpascal @opalesquegirl @imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo @myriadmoons 🫶🏼 ) but i really need to find someone to bounce ideas back and forth with. i think that’d help me a lot. i get down on myself when there isn’t sny interaction (comments, reblogs, asks) about a fic or ideas and i question if my writing is good enough or if anyone really likes it.

i honestly need to shift my focus and remember if one person loves it, then writing it was worth it. but i also think it’s valid to feel discouraged when only a handful of people comment, and im sure there’s many other fic writers that can understand that feeling. or maybe im just desperate for interaction lmao

im hoping i get my motivation back, if not i think ill leave my previous fics up and turn this into a fic rec blog. i feel like ive been a desperate for interaction on this blog and that’s not the vibe i want to have!

i love the idea of leaving a note at the end asking for feedback! and thank you so much for sending this, i got so excited to see it 🤍

[aerodaltonimperial]

hello katy. i had just the most fucked up thought about your split jack au and ive never used tumblr before but im learning how to send an ask right now because i NEED to know what you think of this.

does julia… tell jungle boy that he’s going to forget? those five years that he goes back and changes for the better— surely julia knows that when the time comes, the jungle boy that got sent back to 2019 and changed jack’s world for the better will become nothing but a memory that everyone but jack himself will be aware of. and if julia tells him… lets him know that his time is limited… does jungle boy not do it all anyways?

does he make every decision in this new timeline knowing that he’s setting up a life for the jack who deserves it most and not himself? when the days tick down and he knows he’s running out of time… does he leave notes for jack? does he leave notes for darby? how do you explain to the person that matters most in your life that one day you’re going to wake up and be replaced with someone a thousand times more scared and broken, and you need to love him just as much as you love me now, because he’s me, and i love him too?

im sorry you fucked my whole world up and i hate you and ive been crying about it for days. im sending you an edible arrangements. fucking god damn it man

Yo, you just fucking CHANGED MY WORLD with this ask. Like, this.... this is the stuff I legitimately DID NOT LET MYSELF THINK ABOUT when I was writing that because this is so much. Jesus CHRIST. I am... I am sitting with this because I am going to be really honest with you, I don't know the answers. The only thing I can say that I leaned on during this was the traveler's immunity concept: that essentially, the person doing the changing is immune from shifting when everything else does. And it's that immunity that all of this hinges upon. 2024 Jack has the immunity, and he is the original remnant that will remain.

Would Julia tell Jack, the Jack that is going to become nothing once the timelines merge? I presume that, eventually, she would. But what he DOES with that information? Oh my god. I don't even know. This ask has fundamentally changed me as a person LOL. I imagine... in a perfect world, that Jack does leave notes for himself. Because in the end, that's who he is doing this for: a better future, even though he won't be there to experience it once the right time hits. He got a gift. And he is giving one back. A huge, monumental gift that he will never get to see through to the end. But that's what so much of that fic really ended up being about, in the end: forgiving and loving yourself. He would want himself to have SOMETHING to figure his way around, even if it's just important dates. Anniversaries. When events happened. When things DIDN'T happen.

Would he warn Darby? Honestly, I'm less clear on that one. Because at his core, Jack knows that would change them, in his present. And if he had limited time, I don’t know. Would he be able to tell Darby, knowing that it would fundamentally change everything? Would he be able to say, hey, I'm not going to be here anymore, at least not the way you knew me? Man. I don't know. How do you warn someone that you are going to disappear, but that part of you will remain? And that part isn't going to understand that love should be soft? Or that you don't have to fear letting someone in? Or that people, deep down, care about you? How do you prepare someone for that?

This is the most fucking horrible and amazing ask I have ever received. I'm going to frame it on my wall. I'm going to be thinking about this for days. Holy shit, man. As for the notes that Jack could leave for himself, for when he's gone? Let him cook for you, it makes him happy. When you argue, he'll need to go blow off steam before he comes back. I never told him about what happened in that jump, but I also didn't lie when I told him he was all of the firsts.

You told me that love wasn't real. Well, he loves you, and it's the realest fucking thing in the world.

[actuallyadhd]

so a while back, i self diagnosed. i did a bunch of research and reconsideration and made sure of everything, except for that I didn't know what a shadow syndrome was. so now im considering whether it's actually just a shadow syndrome. but ive internalized my self diagnosis so now im worried the impacts i think of are just me rationalizing so i don't have to change my self image. but a lot of my symptoms are internal so it's hard to just ask other people whether they notice anything because the impacts ive thought of are mainly on my focus and private life. is there any way i can be sure I'm not just rationalizing?

Sent February 28, 2024

I think whether it even matters in the end is whether you’re using this self-concept to avoid taking responsibility for your behaviour or to more easily find potential solutions/strategies for your symptoms.

Obviously you are experiencing challenges in the areas impacted by ADHD, enough that you went looking for possible explanations. It sounds like you did your best to be responsible about it, too.

If your symptoms aren’t strong enough to qualify you for a formal diagnosis, that could still be a shadow syndrome, and to me at least that’s good enough. The strategies that help ADHDers usually help non-ADHDers, too; it just doesn’t work the other way around all that often. That’s why this Tumblr is meant for anyone who has ADHD, or thinks they have it. The suggestions here are likely to help almost anyone.

I think something we often forget when we’re talking about diagnoses like ADHD is that the name is a way to categorize the struggles we face. Humans like to categorize things, and we like to belong to groups. It’s comforting to know that other people understand what we’re going through, and it can feel safe to be around others who share those experiences. Labels function as a sort of shorthand to help us find our groups.

I think what I’m trying to say is that if your self-diagnosis is helping you manage your life, then that is perfectly fine. If it’s helped you find a place where you feel like you belong, that’s amazing. If you feel that it’s more of a shadow syndrome, that’s cool but it doesn’t mean you have to stay away from ADHD spaces, because shadow syndrome ADHD is still ADHD!

Followers, do you have any thoughts on this subject? Please remember that self-diagnosis is valid.

-J

[ludinusdaleth]

I went through your Artagan tag and I'm so confused as to how people watched it as it aired and came out of Campaign 2 still thinking Artagan was abusive to Jester. Or even carry that hate! Artagan/The Traveler never came off as abusive, just annoying and reckless. It makes sense that in-universe her friends would feel uncomfortable around him, but the fans should've known better and Matt shouldn't have had to feel like he was enabling an abusive relationship and apologize for it.

im glad that folk feel the way you do now, lol, but, yeah. it was a rough time if you enjoyed the guy. if you go far enough back in the tumblr & twitter search results for arti the discourse is everywhere, and you'd find very, very few people who saw arti even in a nuanced light at that point. because of the concept of a man befriending a girl and not being wholly honest with her at first, people really viewed everything through how creepy that was, without its unfolding context, and without the context that he was a fae (im sure the constant allusions to jareth in labyrinth did not help, although it should have, because that was a movie that understood a warped peter pan concept - and really, arti was the peter to jesters wendy.)

i dont know if i ever felt so justified & correct as the day matt explicitly said on talks machina that he would never play artagan as creepy or abusive to jester, and even now he expresses laughing disgust at the idea they'd kiss or anything similar. but like you said, i feel like that should have been obvious. arti always has an archfeys aloofness & general lack of empathy, but from the beginning he clearly wants jester to be happy. not once through the entire series does he ever imply jester needs him (he in fact constantly says the opposite) and he is always encouraging her to find life outside of him, which an abuser or groomer never would. he always includes her as a part of his power, an equal, a confidante, rather than acting like he rules over her. he never expresses jealousy or a need to have her near him over her time with the m9. he trusts & loves her enough to eventually come clean about his identity, and when he realizes hes hurt her during travelercon you can see his brain beginning to try to desperately understand a mortals feelings to try to comfort her - and he DOES find a way to that middle ground. this is all before the travelercon kick. i dont know how folk didnt watch even his initial reveal to the m9 alone and not see the absolute love he has for jester & need to make sure she loves her life and has the tools to navigate it. i could go on about their relationship forever but yeah tldr im glad folk finally see what i did.

[keplercryptids]

i often refer my friends to your blog when they need help with alt text and have some questions abt it so i figured youre someone good to ask about it :")

when i look up resources on google it always tells me to keep its as breif as possible and a couple sentences max and when i look on tumblr everyone seems to guide people into writing way more wordy alt text and im just kinda confused on what to do 🫠 i often feel like my descriptions on my art are too long and would be annoying to listen to with a screen reader

something else thats been bugging me to hell and back too and ties into the what articles say vs what tumblr says is how to write alt text for images with a lot of information, if i were to post like a doodle sheet or anything else with several different drawings in one image should i describe every single one of them or just write something like "several doodles of character doing different things"?

i understand alt text and image description are two different concepts, guides on google guide me more towards alt text and guides on tumblr guide me towards image descriptions i feel like i should find a balance but i dont know where that balance would be TT

hi!

alt text and image descriptions are not necessarily distinct things: alt text = image descriptions that show up in the alt text of an image, to be automatically read aloud by screen readers. alt text is often brief, but i think the way a lot of articles talk about alt text is to appeal to a certain audience - businesses and web developers, etc - and so the stress on brevity makes sense. you don't want to bog people down in a lot of detail if you're trying to sell them stuff, etc.

IMO, describing art is different. i don't think blind and low vision folks should be universally excluded from detailed descriptions of art. that's kind of a massive bummer to think about, actually.

and that's not to say that image descriptions shouldn't be brief. it depends. i always hesitate to give hard and fast rules for descriptions, because 1. blind and low vision folks have individual preferences just like everybody else, and 2. CONTEXT is the most important thing when it comes to image descriptions. rules on what should always be included in a description sometimes fall flat because the context is what matters most.

you should strive for a certain amount of brevity while making sure you include the proper context. by that i mean, for example, sometimes the colors in a piece are there to invoke a certain mood, and so you can sum up the mood of a piece (cheerful, cold, dark, dreamy etc) without listing every color. sometimes the poses of a doodle sheet are relevant, contextually, to whatever the image/post is about, and sometimes they're not.

image descriptions are a judgment call, and there isn't (and can't be!) one universally "correct" way to write them. just do your best and focus on what is contextually important, without getting bogged down in excess irrelevant detail, and you'll probably be in a good spot.

[thornswoggled]

so ive finished both supplements that are currently translated and im glad i did, i think theyre valuable companions but not at all required material. ultimately theyre intended for a japanese audience that may not be familiar with western (celtic) cultures and traditions, and a lot of words are spent on concepts english speakers will mostly already recognize. at times, it felt like a last-minute essay being padded out to fit a word limit. there were precious few moments where the text took the time to explain "this concept is similar to xyz in japan," where folklore, literature, and culture is explained in a way that will be helpful for those reading in english. i also liked the explanations behind why certain words were used in the original japanese, and wordplay that we miss out on by reading it translated

beyond that, theres a fair bit of psychoanalysis going on in these supplements thats... pretty clinical, but also very thorough. i feel like i came away with a deeper understanding of why characters are acting the way they do, and it was a good counterbalance to how unfair and critical i can be when it comes to this story. theres a lot of grace extended to every character here

there are very few moments where the text makes it explicitly clear that "this is what the author said she intended," which makes it seem like large swaths of it are speculation. so, i would have enjoyed more commentary like "this is why this was drawn this way, this is what the author intended to invoke," etc. maybe i need to read the merkmal? i think my library has it...

the biggest crime of these supplements is that they cut off after chapter 29. which means it JUST misses The Hand. you know, The Hand? The Hand, which occupies my every waking thought. we know it, we love it, its The Hand. so im pretty desperate now for supplement III to be translated

other crimes below the cut:

i posted this last week but the supplement takes the time to explain the flower language of how alice and chise are represented and abruptly tone-shifts into "heehee... does alice looove renfred? who knows!! 😋" hey, what did you mean by that. hello. who said that

the scene where alice and chise are harassed by drug dealers and they call chise alices girlfriend is skipped over in favor of a two-page explanation on how to summon faeries. can you tell where my biases lie. im not making it a secret

during the scene where elias and ethan are trapped underwater, the supplement outright states that the only way elias will ever be able to truly understand what family means is to raise a child. like, from birth. hey man, im not sure thats true! but live your truth!

on the other hand, moments that made me say "i have the mind of a mastermind"

ruth speaks japanese. this was a gimme

the supplements make numerous mention of what kind of creature elias may be and lets just say im not feeling proven wrong. one day i hope to be known as the insufferable tumblr user who thinks they have yamazaki aaaaall the way figured out

i dont remember anything else but i do remember that at one point i set my book down to tap my wrist and say "my finger is on the pulse. i am the understander" so it must have been good

[inevitably-johnlocked]

i have a confession

recently i had some trouble and had to delete an email

problem is, i used the google docs there to write my fics. and i thought i downloaded them all, but only one of my major ones did, and i lost everything else

literally all of it

i am anonymous because i lost my tumblr acc but on ao3 i am veetheree, and i had this longer dilemma regarding my potterlock fic (pretty disillusioned with rowling and all.that, unsure whether to continue) but even so i saw that a lot of people subscribed to it and i wanted to at least see where the story leads, i had over 300k words apart from the 40k i published

and i domt hve it anymore :') i didnt check the process because it seemed okay and i had other uni and work stuff to take care of, and now i check it and :') it's gone :')) im not doing well, and i am going to delete the fic i think

i dont have the energy to maintain it and i dont want it to be left in the dust either - i have lost all hope for it, and this is just a punch in the gut. and i was proud of the plot and how i intertwined the 2 worlds too

this is mostly just a rant because i dont really have anybody else who can relate to the pain of fic writing and the challenges that come with it

also, as to why i had to delete the email - it's complicated, hacking situation and such, but it happened over 2 months ago so im not able to retrieve it and neither do i really feel like looking into it, im done with that fic for good 😭

that's all, thank you for being a safe space for me to go to, and i apologise to anyone who was waiting for that fic to be updated :(

Hey Lovely *HUGS*

OH GOODNESS, I'm SO sorry you had a garbage time with your email, and even more so, accidentally deleted fics from your Google Drive without saving all of them. I'm TERRIFIED of losing my own fics from my G-Drive all the time (I do actually write and have about 15 "snippets" of fics on there) and back them up religiously.

That said, I can understand how life can overtake literally everything and just make being online Too Much™ – happens to me all the time 💜🖤. And I know how disheartening it can be to just... not have the motivation anymore to continue on with something, heaven knows I've done that plenty in my 40 years, LOL. And Lovely, we have to remember to do what's best for us in the long run.

When I was a teen, I wrote a fairly popular Sonic fanfic series that I never completed, literally left it on a cliffhanger. This was back before even FFNet, and fics were distributed in the Sonic fandom on our Geocities pages via Webring, LOL. After life took over, it still remains unfinished over 20 years later. I recently found the original word docs of all 9 of the stories (with the 10th one half-finished) and while I cringe at my bad writing from back then, I still love immersing myself in that world. One of these days, maybe I'll finish it, because I do think it was a great concept and intriguing storyline that dealt a lot with humanity and sentience, just obviously written by a teenager, hahaha.

The point of that anecdote? We can still love the things we wrote, and still want to engulf ourselves in that world from time to time and not feel bad about it. And if you decide to come back to it a decade from now, that's okay too. You're only human.

And never EVER hesitate to come here for a friendly eyeball to vent to. I try my best to make y'all feel not so alone. Glad to see you are okay, Vee, truly. That's what's most important.

*SNUGGLE BUGGLE HUGGLE* I hope you have a beautiful, prosperous day. And I'm sure your fic-fans understand <3

[yuelun]

𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐍𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐓 𝐄��𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑.

𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄: Manon, but I go by Sae! 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍: She/her. 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌: Discord. I'll deal with Tumblr IMs if people prefer it as I understand not everyone is comfortable sharing their Discord right away. I just find Tumblr IMs to be infinitely impractical, I miss the ability to directly reply/quote previous messages and such, and I often type way too much, so you can surely imagine! Any way, I'm easy enough with Discord, if you ask, the chance is high that you'll get it. So don't hesitate to ask! 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄𝐒: My ever dearest Guizhong, and Yelan is over here. 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄: Throughout Tumblr? Joining the Genshin RPC, actually. I've said this about a previous fandom of mine, but it's been about a year since I first entered this one with Guizhong (originally on my multi for about a month), and it's been nothing short of my best and genuinely most peaceful experience in many years. Usually I see fandom problems arise well before the one-year mark, but here it's been quite calm and also, the closest to feeling that old 'community' concept again. We're all here to have a good time, we engage across the board pretty well, and it's just, it's been really nice. I struggled immensely to be on Tumblr for a good two years prior to coming here, despite the best efforts of friends, and I think it's simply because no fandom has quite felt like this one. None of them ever really succeeded in giving me what this one has. You guys are magnificent, never change.

𝐑𝐏 𝐏𝐄𝐓 𝐏𝐄𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐒: You've called salt into your life with this one, be ready: this trend of privately or publicly guilt-tripping people into interacting with them ('I guess no one's interested...' or 'guess I'll go then...') or even for interacting with duplicates of their muse instead. This should never be a thing I'll cut people like that out of my life and off my dashboard as quickly as I breathe for guilting, and I’ll always motivate people to do the same. There is nothing healthy, remotely positive or forgivable about that kind of behavior, but I see it happening very often still. Are people not interacting with you? Go after them with all the fire of motivation that you possess, and if you don’t have that? Then the muse you have before you may not the one for you. Honestly, I think it's just that if you have passion for your muse, then you won’t let yourself get demotivated, you won’t let things hold you back, because you’ll have a spirit that can’t really be quelled in any capacity. Are duplicates intimidating? Then either find your way to shy away from them or let that insecurity drive you; let it make you better, let it drive you to improve (mentally). I’m not saying anyone who experiences insecurity is a lesser writer, not by any means— but let it make you even better than you already are.

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒: I find myself drawn to specific elements or concepts within humanity (or in Guizhong's case, the exact opposite) that are either unusual among the status quo or intriguing.to me personally. I do know that I've always rather fiercely tried to avoid characters that are very reminiscent of me as an individual. Though on some level, there is usually a trait that I understand on a fundamental level in some way or another, the nature in which it's presented is usually simply is different, however. So for example with Yelan, I can talk about this inherent concept of loneliness that is incredibly different from what we consider to be the norm, I've understood the concept incredibly well throughout various parts of my life, but never in the way that it was presented with her whatsoever. And in terms of Guizhong, it's her curiosity to figure everything out, but as a god who by default, does not function in a similar capacity to mortals whatsoever, it's incredibly interesting (and different) for me to see. 𝐏𝐋𝐎𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐑 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒: The former, but the latter usually will also either be based on a mentioned plot, or I'll turn it into a plot! 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒: I always inevitably end up getting wordy, but I can start shorter as to establish a sort of writing comfort and/or flow with the other person, especially if you're a new RP partner of mine. I kind of release the reigns to you. 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄: This used to be in the dead of night, and I'm still trying to establish when I write best now. 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄: Generally, nope!

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘: @basbousah 🩶 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆: I'm unsure who's done this and hasn't yet, so if I forgive you and you've done it already, just ignore this! @spiderwarden @immobiliter @avaere @yanwangye @arlquin (please tell Scooby she's also tagged 🤭) @apocryphis @narvvhal @lunaetis @sagnaevi @sortilegii @starwardsword @reginrokkr @astrxl-finale @petrokhelidon @luzofstars @galvanic-duelist and whoever else would like to do it, just say I tagged you! I'm always happy to read these.

[polyamorouspunk]

WE DO LOVE YOU PUNK!!!!!!! ...platonically though why does everyone think we're always flirting with everybody

anyway HELLO I'M NEW HERE AN WANNA SHOW MYSELFF

I formed yesterday because we were really blurry then got in a situation that made us feel very small and vulnerable so I formed as a syskid!!!

LOOKIE AT ME

my name's Chili, kinda like the original name of Charlie!!!

also the green isn't zombie as in rotting person but zombie as in funky lil dood

I am a girl but it/its sounds fun to me <33

also my favorite minecraft wood is bamboo and I don't like making normal minecraft structures I like building up in the trees with scaffolding and ladders and stairs and things so monsters can't get me as easily

do you play minecraft? oh also I'm 7 but do understand lots of adult concepts but am not exactly comfortable talking about many of them so there's that

also a fun thing about both syskids (me and Duckie) is we both "built" ourselves as in we had no appearance and we found a picrew we liked and started poking at what felt right until we got a picrew that looks like us and therefore we now have a body and a form and stuff also I'm not an age slider like Duckie so yeah

also i wish I had a little buddy on my shoulder but unfortunately we don't have and shoulder-sized little buddies

also an underrated stim is wiggling your butt but you gotta be careful becaues if you do it wrong you'll twerk and it's fine to do that as a stim but you gotta be careful because some people take that to be sexual when it's just a stim

also one of our best friends is getting married tomorrow

also we wanna be closer friends but Charlie says we'll be too weird or that you'll get uncomfortable with our age difference which I don't understand because why is it weird for adults to be Literally Just Friends with even outright kids? I know bad people exist and... what they do but like whenw e were 12 we had only adult friends so i don't get it but I don't want to undermine her authority or your comfort so i'm not gonna do anything

also I hope this isn't too much at once I really like rambling and tumblr's ask box feature lets me do that how i like to

also another thing i just realized about both of our syskids is that we both have yellow eyes HOW COOL IS THAT anyway im running out of WAIT NO

PUNK YOU NEED TO SEE GODZILLA MINUS ONE IT'S SO GOOD

our Goji liked it too!!! we all loved it!!!!

okay now im pretty sure im actually out of things to say bye byeeeee!!!!!!!!!

Yellow eyes are the best

I always wanted a palm-sized pocket dragon like they had in H*rry P*tter when they picked out what dragons they were fighting in the tournament. I’m like they should have let them keep those. But altogether not the worse thing in the plot of those stores though.

I did see Godzilla Minus One already when it came out! I went and saw it in theaters.

Green is certainly funky but I also love quoting DHMIS but the only quote I say is “green is not a creative color”.

I painted a rock today but I was only allowed one rock which kind of sucks.

I don’t own Minecraft so I’ve only played it once.

[youremyheaven]

Hi I found that remark about moon dominants very offensive, even if you meant it in a harmless lighthearted way which I'm sure you did, I can't help but feel hurt about how people view moon dominants. As we live in a deeply rooted patriarchal civilisation there is a lot to deconstruct in every field of knowledge, like the human concept of the so called passivity for instance which has nothing to do with the sociological power dynamics that rob women of their freedom to self determine. Living your whole life pleasing and depending on your husband is not a human inclination, it's a material condition. I'm sorry to be that person I don't wanna fight with you and don't feel obligated to reply ofc I just wanted to share my thoughts, I'd love if you agreed with me though...

i make jokes about astrological placements from time to time. it's not that deep

but that said, I find your message very 🤔🤔 "you'd love it if I agreed with you"?? lol

why does it matter to you what some random girl on Tumblr thinks? what does it matter whether or not I agree with you? why do you act as though you were specifically singled out/targeted by something I said? and why should it matter to me that you found something i said to be offensive?

first of all, the spiritual dimension of life isn't separate from any other dimension. obviously your socioeconomic conditions affect you deeply but your life is a reflection of who you are. you cannot be a spiritual being and claim that who you are on the inside is separate from the life you live and choices you make

the human tendency towards passivity isn't any one thing specifically. it's tamas, it's inertia. this takes many forms and can be manifest in many ways. if I had to assign the seven deadly sins to each planet, Moon would be assigned "sloth".

im not saying that Moon dominant women = women who want to rely on men and be doormats but it's not exactly a reach to say that "the human inclination towards passivity" can manifest that way because to survive and thrive in our socio-economic system, you need Yang influence, many women opt out of that and do indeed choose to depend on men. im not saying that spiritual passivity is directly tied to serving men but it is a negative manifestation of extreme Yin influence, the tendency to depend on others, not just men and the inability to be independent thinking as Moon dominant people are easily influenced.

Claire Nakti, who I've always suspected to be Moon influenced talks repeatedly of the female spiritual path in terms of extreme passivity and inability to be a source of light or whatever and ive always thought that tendency of hers reflected her worldview more than any deep spiritual truth.

everytime you're irked by something someone says or does, it's your shadow being triggered.perhaps you hate the idea of being dependent on a man or being perceived that way. which is understandable.

i meant no harm but I stand by what I said.