#But in my community where I actually live. I’m just what I was born as. Because its easier and I don’t feel strongly one way or another

[righteous-pines]

Chivetiger joined the clan long ago under the lead of Pinestar, but his life as a loner isn’t even a distant memory now. Though he spends much of his time alone, thinking up dialogues and stories in his head that fill his chest with pounding excitement, he is often the cat others in the clan turn to with their problems, as he always seems to have a hypothetical on how to handle everything. He’s happy to spit out his opinion on the matter, and then be left alone, no other conversation necessary. He can often be found in a shady corner, off to himself, sorting his collection of shiny rocks and mumbling softly to himself in little voices.

[irhabiya]

So I live in the US and due to that I had to prioritize English over Arabic and thus I don’t really know how to read or write it. I’m trying to incorporate more Arabic in my spoken vocabulary and my family has been helping with that. I’m currently using duo lingo to help with learning written Arabic. They have a feature where your just learning the alphabet and that has helped.

But what I’m trying to get at here is do you have any resources to help me learn reading and writing Arabic? I seen courses available but they are out price range and so I wanted to see if you could point me to anything that could help me.

hi sweetheart <3

unfortunately, since i was born and raised in the middle east and speak arabic as my first language i don't have any resources for someone trying to learn as a beginner but!! i can point you towards some users/posts who provide resources that could be helpful to you

my mutual @ayin-me-yesh has many resources for learning arabic under the #arabic and #alif baa tags on their blog. here are some posts compiling resources and you can look through the rest [1], [2], [3]

in general though, i would recommend you learn msa to an intermediate level so you can have a good understanding of standard arabic syntax and grammar and then move on to learning dialect to be able to actually communicate with people. the best way to learn dialect imo is by consuming media in that dialect and practicing with someone and it's good that your family is willing to help you with that. i saw in your bio that you're palestinian-american so maybe look into palestinian films and music specifically and levantine media more broadly.

[georgiapeach30513]

With Your Touch, Part 2

Summary: Lloyd has some rules, and very little control.

Pairings: Lloyd Hansen X Au Pair!Reader

Rating: explicit

Warnings:  explicit language, explicit sexual tension, video sex, a bit of voyeurism, implied male masturbation, teasing, daddy issues, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 5.9K

Previous

Series Masterlist

*dividers created by @firefly-graphics

“Shh, sweetheart. We’ve got to tell your daddy you need a proper middle name. Unless you’re European. Can you tell me if you are?” Lyla giggles a bit, reaching a hand up to touch your face. “Oh, I knew it. You want one. So what do you think your dad will like an A name? A B name?” The baby squeals so loud you hear Lloyd’s loud banging stop. Pausing while he focuses on Lyla’s voice.

“Was that a good sound or bad? I haven’t learned her noises. Cries. Voice. I don’t know what the correct terminology would be, but I haven’t learned it.”

“It isn’t bad. She’s communicating with me.”

“What?” His voice is laced in so much confusion that you find it so endearing. He was obnoxious, but trying. His rules for you as the au pair were a bit too much, but the pay was ridiculously good. And Chase didn’t live too far. He could sneak in.

You walk into Lyla’s room, wanting to laugh as Lloyd curses at the crib he was trying to put together. Looking down at the sweet baby in your arms as her daddy throws something else, “He’s pitching a fit.”

“No the — no, I’m not. This stupid thing is impossible with these dumbass directions. And she can’t sleep in her bedroom. I don’t want her to sleep in the portable crib anymore. I want her to have a space of her own. I highly doubt her whore of a mother gave her that. And yes, she is. Any woman that drops off a baby with their father who knows fuck all about kids is a whore and shitty human being. And Lyla, I apologize. I’m working on not talking like an asshole around her.”

Working on it, and failing miserably, it is still cute he thinks he’s going to change that quickly. Even just acknowledging that type of language isn’t suitable for her is a start. “And here I am in over my head, putting together an overly pink bedroom for her because she didn’t ask to be born, and I am extra.”

“Yeah, designer baby clothes aren't what a lot of parents do.”

“How did your father dress you?”

Chuckling, you put Lyla in her carrier. You place her slightly behind, but still beside Lloyd, and plant yourself beside him, grabbing up the directions. “Roman didn’t dress me. My mother did. Roman might have paid for things, but my mom was the one that was there always. So you’re doing a lot better than him.”

“Is this a moment you tell me you have daddy issues?”

Snorting, you look up at him, shaking your head no, “This is me telling you my experience with my father. Having a dad in a girl’s life makes a difference. I call him Roman. What do you want Lyla to call you?”

“Dad.”

“You know you didn’t hesitate?” Taking a deep inhale, Lloyd grabs the directions from you, busying himself in reading them. You don’t think he actually is looking at them, he’s absorbing what you said, while also refusing to look at you and show you his vulnerability. “Speaking of which, why doesn’t she have a middle name?”

“Why does she need one?”

“What’s your middle name?” You counter quickly, and he leans back. His eyes gazing over your body. Wondering where the hell you came from because clearly you didn’t know who he was.

He narrows his eyes, looking at you and then his daughter. Lyla can’t help but to giggle at him. Tiny little thing. You wonder if she was malnourished or just a bit miniature anyways. “Bennett,” he waits to see if you react before continuing. “Why does she need one?”

“Beatrice,” he looks down at the baby who chuckles again. “She likes you, and she told me she wanted a name that started with B, and now I find out your name starts with a B. I think you and your daddy are a perfect pair, don’t you Miss Lyla Bee?” Despite whatever nonsense her mother had her living in, she's a happy baby. One that is very much aware of her daddy. Her bright green eyes focus on him when he looks at her.

“Lyla Bee. I like that. She’s like my little bumble bee. Should we get rid of all the pink and change it to bumble bees? Did I make a mistake with the pink? What if she doesn’t like pink?”

You shrug your shoulders. It really didn’t matter what she liked. She seemed to like her dad, and he adored her, and wanted to do right by her. “I think we should keep the pink. Here, you tend to the baby, and let me have a go at this crib. You’re messing everything up. And she really likes you.”

“But you’re the au pair?” He says, holding onto Lyla. He gives his finger to her, and her little baby fingers wrap around him tightly.

“And you’re mucking up this crib. Can I? I helped my mom with my little brother’s crib. It was a long time ago. But,” you go silent, grabbing the directions back from Lloyd. Using the same tactic he did earlier. Focus on this and ignore the questions, “No, Roman is not his father.”

“Didn’t ask,” he didn’t have to. Everyone else did. Your brother was an angel, and his father was…well, he was there. He made sure that Vincent was taken care of. Might not have offered you any attention, but you weren’t his responsibility.

“You thought it, so that was enough. I like the simple, but extravagant theme you went for in her bedroom though. Even if the Dior bunny is a bit much.”

“She likes it,” he chuckles, looking down at his daughter. “My partner told me buying things is my love language.”

“You must really love your daughter then,” he whispers out ‘yeah’, not realizing how much it hurts you that he loves someone he just met. And your father knew about you during the pregnancy. You didn’t have daddy issues. You had men issues. Men couldn’t be trusted. There were to be looked at, and put to good use.

You flop down on the seat next to Lloyd on the couch with a cup of microwave macaroni and cheese. You take a bite of the easy dinner, glancing at the television while Lloyd scowls. His eyes drift over your body, slightly confused. Watching as your jaw pulses with your chews.

“I feel you watching me,” he didn’t hide his facial expressions. You could read exactly what he was thinking by the quirks of his brows and mouth alone. Not that you had been paying attention to his mouth.

“What is that dreadful shit you’re eating?”

You turn your body towards him, and slowly take another bite. Noting how his eyes go to your mouth as he watches you chew in disgust. “It only took three and a half minutes to make.”

“It smells like it did. But what are you eating?” This man has been rich his entire life. Didn’t even know the joys of microwaveable food.

“It’s mac and cheese,” you giggle. Scooping out a bit, and you hold the spoon out for him. “Try it.”

“I’d rather not,” his face no longer disgusted, but more indifferent.

“Because you’re scared to eat after me?” He rolls his eyes as you take another bite of the sinfully delicious and preservative filled dinner. It probably had too much sodium in it, and the way you dressed it up surely didn’t help. But it was simple and comforting all the same. Lloyd could learn to loosen up a bit. Bring himself down to a ‘normal lifestyle’.

“While sharing a spoon with you does repulse me. The idea of eating something that came out of a microwave is just as disgusting. Did your father not feed you well?”

“Roman,” you emphasize his name. One day Lloyd would understand that Roman was nothing but a sperm donor and a bank. “He didn’t feed me. My mother did. And she wanted me to be normal.”

“Eating proper food is normal,” you liked him. Legitimately liked him. He also didn’t get offended when you popped back. He probably always had someone around him ready to take orders. That is until you.

“I mean have the American dream.”

“Yes, the American dream is definitely to eat food that is cheaper than toilet paper.”

Slowly blinking, you watch him watch you. Something that should be uncomfortable with the lack of a baby as a buffer wasn’t. You wanted to bring him back down to earth. He was a bit pompous and a lot of an asshole, and you still liked it. “I’m going to make you a cup.”

“Please don’t,” his voice is flat as he watches you jump up from the couch.

“And you’re going to at least try it.”

“I’d rather not,” he is too stiff and robotic with his movements. You want to reach over to his shoulders and make him slouch. Maybe if you made him laugh or shook him? Made him dance with you? You were going to make him break.

“And after you’ve tried it, if you still think the same we can drop it. But what I put into my body is my business. What you put into yours is your business. We won’t judge one another. You can oblige me by cooking me and Lyla Bee a delicious dinner one evening. I’ll humor you, and try your rich people food, mkay?”

This isn’t at all what Lloyd had bargained for. A girl who was given no boundaries. But you had helped him get Lyla’s bedroom in order. She was even sleeping soundly in her crib while a monitor sat on the coffee table. You hadn’t complained when he would start throwing things in a fit. And somehow managed to calm him down.

“Fine, but I don’t cook. I have a private chef,” he responds, following you into the kitchen. Eyeing you as you go into the pantry. “Where did this come from?”

Sighing, you open up the fridge producing a container of shredded cheese, and walk to the counter. “I had it delivered while you were taking a nap with Lyla. It’s really cute to see you sleeping with a baby on your chest. You know, I could watch her. Nap time leaves me nothing to do but use Roman’s card to have some food delivered here.”

“I read you should try to bond with your baby whenever you can. I missed time with her. Wait — you were watching me sleep?” It was quick, but you saw his smirk. Did he like you watching him sleep? That almost feels like an invasion of privacy. Or did he like that you looked at him? Called him cute? What was this?

“It got quiet in the apartment. So I went to find you,” and you might have wandered around the giant apartment as well. His bedroom was just the first place you looked. And you might have enjoyed what you saw, and you might have created a quick but stupid scenario of your husband doing that. Not Lloyd in particular, just a blank faced man who may or may not have had a mustache.

“You’re a snoop?”

“I’m curious by nature,” it wasn’t a lie. You weren’t looking for something to hurt or burn Lloyd with. Just wanted to give a gander through everything. “So what exactly are my hours? When you’re here do you want me to be here? Can I request time off? Have a social life? You won’t exactly let me have people here, and I do respect that. This is yours and Lyla’s space, and I know with your line of work discretion is advised. But I can’t have my only friends be you and a baby. I do have a boyfriend, and I fear I won’t if I don’t see him.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Lloyd smirks. That smile dies quickly as he watches you mix up the cheese concoction to the now completed noodles, and slide the disposable container to him. “You’re not going to put this in a real bowl?”

After washing your hands, you splash a bit of water on him. Giggling when his face turns into a snarl, “Loosen up. This is microwave food. And I need to see other people. Do you not like Chase?”

“His name is dumb,” rolling your eyes, you look away from him. Listening for any signs of movement on the monitor while Lloyd takes a tentative bite of the mac and cheese. Curling up his nose until the spoon touches his tongue, and you see his eyebrows go up. “But this isn’t that bad.”

“What’s wrong with his name?”

“Chase is a verb,” he answers matter of fact. He was going to be one of those. Complete alpha male, and you were bringing someone into his home that was hurting his ego. You weren’t even sure if Chase was the one, but he is definitely the one right now. You didn’t meet your forever person in college, and you’re not even sure you believe in that. You just find someone you tolerate and make sure the sex is good. Plus Chase was amazing to look at and a lot of fun.

“And I don’t want boys in and out of Lyla Bee’s life,” he liked the way the nickname you gave her sounded. It suited his sweet little bee. She had proven to be the sweetest and most cuddly baby he’d ever met. But he had only met one.

“I can respect that as long as you respect the fact that he is my boyfriend,” Lloyd didn’t really want to or have to for that matter. But you were new to this life and to him. You’d eventually see that Lloyd commanded all. Not that he would torture you like he did some. As long as you followed the rules.

“Fine.”

“Is it okay that I came out here tonight? Would you rather me stay holed up in my room? Alone?”

“No,” he answers, walking to the garbage can to dispose of the trash. He heads towards the sink, washing his spoon quickly before leaving you to go back into the living room. Leaving you with more questions than answers.

“No, as in it’s okay that I came out?”

“Were you supposed to stay in your bedroom and starve?” Well that was a simple question to answer. But it was your first night here, and you didn’t know what boundaries he had that you shouldn’t cross. “I don’t expect us to be best friends. But we live together. You’re the woman that takes care of my daughter, and I’m the man.”

Saying it in such simple terms made this arrangement sound strange. You didn’t want to be an au pair, and didn’t see yourself living with a man and his daughter. His baby daughter, who couldn’t even crawl. Currently you think about this weird living situation, and how lines could easily become blurred here.

“What are my duties?”

“You’ve already told me that you have daddy issues, and now you’re asking me what your duties are? Please. I’m going to bed. This line of question is — it’s not good for me. Goodnight, Dolly. Stay up as long as you like, but in the morning I’ll be gone. Tomorrow will be all your responsibility. I’ve added a monitor to your room. If it’s before five, I can tend to her.”

He walks off leaving you with even more questions. Why did he suddenly have that outburst? What had made him seem so sensitive? And you didn’t have daddy issues. You were just fine without your father. You didn’t seek the approval of a man, or needed one to keep you in line. Sure you might watch Lloyd with Lyla and wish that Roman had even an ounce of care that Lloyd had shown in the first few hours that you met him.

Lyla is lucky to have a man that stepped up to be her father. He didn’t have to. From what you understand he didn’t even know of her existence, but it didn’t matter. She was his priority.

Exhaling deeply, you turn off all the lights, and walk to your bedroom. You’d promised Chase you would call once you were settled in bed. You’d leave the awkward talk with Lloyd for tomorrow, or whenever he decided to show up. Giving a look towards his door instead of Lyla’s telling yourself you would crack him. It was one day, and things wouldn’t always be this awkward.

Sitting on your overly plush bed, you call up Chase, and he answers on the first ring, “FaceTime me. I want to see you.”

Flipping it over to a video call, you see his handsome face, and smile like a schoolgirl. “Nice room. Have you figured out how I’m going to be able to sneak in there?”

“Chase!”

“Oh, come on. It will be fun. I’ve never fucked an au pair before,” you roll your eyes. Letting the camera drift a bit before pulling apart your pajama top. Giving him a quick flash of your chest. “Oh, princess, I like that. Is that why you called me? We’ve never had phone sex before.”

”Being around a baby and a man child today made me miss you,” you give him a little pout. The performance that he loved so much, and you just enjoyed to see him get feral. “All I could think about was falling asleep because you wore me out.”

”I could fucking wear you out.”

“Oh, yeah? What would you do to me?”

“I know how you like an audience. Maybe not actually seeing you, but you love when people can hear you. You think daddy Lloyd would have a problem hearing you whisper my name?” Daddy Lloyd? Now why did that give you a bit of a pause. A rumble in your belly that you hadn’t expected. Ignoring a few of Chase’s words as your mind ponders, going in so many different directions of why those words strung together made you…feel.

“He’d hear you gasping for breath as I stab into that sweet little cunt. Or maybe he’d walk in to see you riding me. Why don’t you remind me how you ride me,” you hum at him, and he pans the camera down to his lap, and he’s gripping the base of his cock so tightly. Beads of precum gather at the tip. Normally he’d have his cock already covered in a condom. But seeing him in all his glory is doing something to you.

“Grab a pillow, and pretend it’s me. I’ll stroke my cock to whatever pace you set.”

—

Lloyd flops to the other side. Grabbing his pillow he covers his head thinking about anything besides what he is hearing. He shouldn’t have added the camera to your room. But to be fair the cameras were in every fucking room in the apartment. How was he going to protect you and his daughter if he didn’t know what was going on?

Maybe the ones in the bathroom were too much, but they weren’t pointing at the toilet. My god, he wanted to look. Wanted to turn the volume down. Wanted to get that stupid verb out of his mind. But the verb wouldn’t stop talking. It isn’t even fair that you are whispering. It is normal for people to masturbate. You’d just sound better without his pathetic attempts at phone sex.

“Ugh,” Lloyd growls. He could exit out of the app if he wanted to, but he didn’t. Is it because he didn’t want to? Is it because he liked the sound of your sweet noises? Or is it because it had been too long since he had felt something besides his hand? He isn’t sure. The only thing he was truly positive about was you were killing him.

All fucking day. Acting all innocent and oblivious. He’d been away from women for too long, and you were…you knew what you were doing. Your cute little domestic moments with his daughter. You made him army ration mac and cheese that were at least edible. You helped him. You didn’t even ask, you just sat down and helped him. And you were sweet with his baby.

His emotions are conflicting with his need to…

He had to stop this utter nonsense. He isn’t a rational man, but he did what he had to do with the cameras. And now it’s backfiring on him because you can’t fucking whisper a moan. Why did your heavy breathing sound so sexy?

Why did he want to look? Were you topless? One peek wouldn’t hurt. But it would be crossing a line. How would he feel if someone was doing this with his daughter? He wouldn’t like it. You were Roman’s daughter. Even though he didn’t tell him you had the prettiest…

Nope. He is spiraling down into a sinful rabbit hole. His cock is too hard and angry and it is killing him to not look. He even fears grabbing his phone to turn down the volume will make him want to watch you. See you do whatever the fuck you are doing. Judging by the sounds and whatever The Verb was saying, you are grinding on a fucking pillow.

One look won’t hurt.

Nope, he can’t do this. He throws the blanket off him. Sitting up in the bed, he rests his elbows on his knees. Head in his hands as he tries to make his cock calm down. He was lonely. But it feels even wrong to fuck his fist because your voice is what got him hard.

This arrangement was needed, but this is difficult. Feeling a bit impossibly hard right now. Everything was hard. Including his fucking cock. It was quaking with the need to be dealt with.

Shaking his head, he stands up. His cock pressing uncomfortably against his boxers. A walk through the apartment is much needed. Get away from the noise. Maybe eat another somewhat edible peasant mac and cheese.

This was a bad idea. He sees the soft glow underneath your bedroom door, and has a deep desire to sling it open and get on to you for being…

No. He can’t do that. You’re not ‘breaking’ any of his rules. You’re just mutually masturbating with your boyfriend, and you’re taking too long. Not that he would make sure to fuck you quickly. He just doesn’t want someone else taking their time with you.

What the fuck is he even talking about? He can’t fuck you. You were Lyla’s. He just paid you. He could pay you in other ways.

No!

You fucking asked him what your duties were. He’d love for your duties to be getting to your knees and letting him see how pretty your mouth looked with his cock in it. His tip nudging the back of your throat while tears fill your eyes, and your lungs cry for air.

What the actual fuck? Why was he like this? Why was this a struggle? And why is he going the opposite way of the kitchen? Landing directly in front of your door? Listening to your sounds live. Panting. Whimpering. Not saying The Verb’s name. He’d have you screaming his name. He would have you begging for him to let you come. Have you edged all day because you wanted to tease him with silly little questions about your duties.

He’d have tears falling down your cheeks as he smirks down at you. Letting you know what a pathetic and needy little slut you were. Fuck you so hard your eyes are rolling into the back of your head, and you’re completely dumb. So dumb that you’re just spouting out random words until he’s left his seed inside your belly.

Walking to your bathroom to get a washcloth to clean you up before leaving you blissed out. Making you so needy that you beg for his attention. Start being a good girl so you get more time with is cock in — inside of you. Ready to crawl on your knees after Lyla was put to sleep, and telling him you’re his little sex doll. And he would make so much use of your body and holes. Fucking you every night. Special time just for you. Just so he can feel your tight…tight…tight walls milk him dry.

”Lloyd?” Your voice pants on the other side of the room. “Lloyd is that you?” Getting closer to the door. He tucks his cock back in his boxers. Not even realizing he had been rubbing one out to your sounds. Wiping his hands on the silk of his underwear when you sling the door open.

How did you become prettier? A sheen of sweat around your hairline, and yep…you’d been grinding on a fucking pillow. Your bed is a crumbled up mess and a pillow is right in the middle of the bed. “Is everything okay? Sorry, I was…I was telling Chase goodnight.”

The Verb. You had shorts on earlier. Now it’s this t-shirt that was barely covering your legs. Were you naked? Did you show him your pussy? Your chest continues to heave, and he hates The Verb. He despises him. He’s got to go. You can’t spend time with Lyla and him if The Verb was in the picture. “Lloyd, are you okay?”

“I’m hungry.”

”I’m confused,” what was his reason for being at your door, telling you that he was hungry.

”I like ramen. The gross kind. The kind that…”

”Like top ramen?” You ask him confused. Mouth still slightly open as you try to catch your breath and his eyebrow quirks up. Did you know he was listening to you and stroking himself?

“Yes. You made me your cheap noodles, would you like me to make you some of my cheap noodles?”

“It’s after midnight.”

“Fine, I’ll eat the noodles by myself,” spinning on his heels, he walks away from you into the kitchen. It isn’t long until he hears the soft pads of your feet following him. “I told you it was okay.”

“You — did you…I was almost asleep.”

“Yes, yes. I understand. You were almost asleep as you were telling your…boyfriend goodnight. That’s exactly what almost asleep sounds like,” that list bit of his sentence sounds a bit implying. Did he know?

“Did you hear our conversation?” Was it even a conversation? He couldn’t remember. He just heard you telling him you were going to come. Not The Verb, but Lloyd. You are a tease. He didn’t mean to get off on your voice. “How long were you out here?”

“Grab me a pot?” Oh you were obedient, bending over to get a pot, and standing up quickly. Not quick enough. No panties. He pretends to see nothing. You can sleep with no panties. That’s a good habit to get into because he can just slide into your bed, and start fucking you. When you get there of course. Consent is key. And he feels like a bastard for what he did tonight. But that movement you just did was on your own.

“Sorry.”

“For what?” He asks with a devilish grin.

“Nothing,” it wasn’t just nothing. But he wasn’t going to make you feel guilty for the need to show him your cunt still glistening. He’d have your legs drenched. “Do you do anything special with your ramen? Or do you make it as is?”

“There’s some eggs and spring onions in the fridge. Does that answer your question?” He nods his head towards the fridge, trying to figure out what else he could make you do to get a little peek. He’d play oblivious. Let you decide what you are comfortable with. “Mind getting me some bowls from the top shelf?”

Standing on your tippy toes you dance around a moment. The bottom of your ass cheeks make a little appearance, and he steps behind you to reach the bowls himself. Taking too long to cage your body with your own. And when you gasp, pressing your ass into his crotch he bounces back immediately. Dropping the bowls into the floor and they shatter into thousands of pieces.

“Shit,” Lloyd whispers under his breath. And without asking, places his hands on your sides to lift you up onto the counter. “Stay there while I clean this up. I don’t need you stepping on glass.”

He doesn’t notice the odd glances that you give him as he picks up the larger pieces and starts sweeping up the rest. “My mom always uses wet a paper towel to get the tiny pieces up.”

“That’s smart,” he follows your instructions. And stands up straight. You have already gotten more comfortable, and your legs are not so tightly pressed together. He has to bite his tongue in order to not look. But as high up as that shirt is sitting on your thighs, he knows. And you are aware that he knows.

“Not that Lyla can even crawl right now, but the idea of there being these tiny pieces of glass for you to step on when holding her,” his words stop, and he stands in front of you. How did you not realize he was shirtless? Why is his chest so close to your face as he reaches above your head for more bowls? Why does he smell like a wet dream? Push the thoughts away.

“I don’t want you hurting yourself and dropping her in an accident.”

“I won’t drop her.”

“Knock on the cabinets immediately! That is bad luck,” you do as he says, not pegging him as a superstitious man at all. “I had some chance to think about it. I think on Sundays you should have the day off completely unless I’m out of town. Saturdays, is it fair to ask for you to work half a day? Just until around noon?”

“I think that’s fair.”

“And maybe we should not talk about The Verb?”

“The Verb?” What was he even talking about? You notice his eyes flick momentarily to your lap, and you realize how comfortable you had gotten on this counter. Your legs are too far apart. He had to have seen something. Was he disappointed? You didn’t want to disappoint him. You had just started to get to know him. You wanted to prove to him and yourself that you could care for a baby.

“That Chase boy.”

“My boyfriend?” You giggle. Why did he have such an issue with Chase?

“Why is he even your boyfriend?”

“He’s better than a dildo. I mean,” you feel your cheeks heat up with embarrassment, and have to look at the floor. Missing how big Lloyd’s smile spreads across his smug face. Or the way he is stalking towards you like he’s ready to pounce on his prey. “We’ve been together for awhile, but it’s not that serious.”

“Sweetheart, don’t settle for better than a dildo,” he stands right in front of you. Both hands on your knees as he goes to push your legs apart. Inserting himself in between your thighs. The weird feeling in your tummy returns, and you hate having no panties on as slick floods to your core. Throat dry as his finger touches your chin and lifts your face up to look at him. “And when I’m speaking to you, I expect you to look me in the eyes, do you understand?”

You nod your head slowly, but he clicks his tongue, “And I expect you to verbally answer in my home. Little head gestures are easily misinterpreted, okay?”

“Okay,” he raises an eyebrow, wanting you to finish your sentence, but words are impossible, and your brain is mush. Everything is delayed as you feel the heat between you and Lloyd, “I understand.”

“If you need something better than a dildo and more than The Verb just use your words,” what the fuck does that even mean? He steps away from you much quicker than he inserted himself. The air in the room is heavy and stifling, and you wonder if you even knew how to breathe without reminding yourself to inhale and exhale.

“Do you like creamy ramen or brothy?” This bastard is really changing the subject. You can’t even think with the two heartbeats you feel. One inside your chest, while the other is between your thighs and throbbing. Why is your heart beating so fast? Why is your body betraying you?

“I don’t think I’ve had creamy.”

“You want to get me the heavy whipping cream?” He gives you a cheeky smile when you jump off the counter and head towards the fridge.

“Why are you asking me to do all these things?”

“Because you listen so well,” you pause before reaching for the heavy whipping cream, and turn to look at him.

“What is this?” He’s playing a sick game. He had to be. He saw this ‘vulnerable little girl’ that he had to save. You didn’t need saving, you were fine all on your own.

“You’re very well behaved. Your mother did a good job. Until just now you didn’t even question it. Just did as I asked,” what is he getting at? He is talking in riddles, or backwards, or you are just reading too much into whatever this exchange is. Keeping your mouth closed for the rest of the evening.

Keeping your eyes off him as you squirm around uncomfortably in your seat. Is this uncomfortable because of him? Or are you weirded out because you are feeling things because of him. If you look up, you’d see him smiling as he watches the weird inner turmoil going on in your head.

Finishing before you, he stands up to put his bowl in the dishwasher. Walking past you towards his bedroom, he stops. “And Dolly?”

“Yes?” You ask, turning around in your chair.

“When you leave your room make sure you have on panties,” oh. My. God. He knew. He saw. He didn’t say anything until now. “Because next time I won’t force myself to stop my need to lean you over the counter and spank your ass.”

“Okay,” you didn’t know how to respond to that, and you couldn’t believe how your body was internalizing his words. Heat. Fire. Desire. Embarrassment. Lust. How you have immediate visions of Lloyd doing just that, and spreading your cheeks to see if he made you wet. He did. Uncomfortably so.

“Good girl, I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” he needs a cold shower. He needs away from you because his cock has been at full mast since you questioned why he was asking you to gather things for him. You could try to deny it, but he turned you on as much as you turned him on.

And yet here is your employer, and you are just the sweet au pair with daddy issues. No matter what you say. And he supposes he’s the sick bastard that didn’t mind teasing you. Giving you something to think about. Options? Something for the spank bank? He hopes you go to bed wet and frustrated. Wake up to needing to fuck your own fingers as you think about the close proximity he had to you.

He hopes that you are dripping with need for his cock, and his care and protection. And he hopes that a cold shower is enough to get visions of you yipping with every smack to your ass. That you would be the perfect and obedient girl for him. Woman. Girl sounded gross in this context. Thank you, Roman for making sure your daughter had daddy issues. But fuck him for not loving his daughter the way you deserved.

Next

Masterlist

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[box-of-roses]

.⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅. I hear you .⋅ ۵♡۵ ⋅.

♡ Synopsis: You can hear the thoughts of your soulmate; What happens when Sakusa finds out you’re his soulmate and tries to plan the perfect way to tell you

♡ Characters: Sakusa, Y/N

♡ Possible Warnings: Mentions of tests and failing, good old fashioned teasing

♡ Words: 2.3K

Pt. 2 | Pt. 3 | Series Masterlist

From the moment you’re born you are able to communicate with your soulmate. No one is exactly sure how it works but their thoughts become yours and vice versa. A lot of the time what you hear is nonsense. Since everyone grows up with it constantly in their brain it’s easy to filter out the nonsense from actual conversations. Let’s start from the beginning though shall we?

Y/N is born. Maybe not quite that early, let’s skip ahead to the first coherent conversation you remember with your soulmate. It was just after you had failed a test, which was shocking because you believed you had done well on it.

‘Hey, I don’t know what’s going on over there but will you stop panicking?’ Hearing a voice in the midst of your stupor made you jerk your head up and look around. Seeing nothing on the horizon your brows furrowed and your lips contorted into a frown. ‘Did your parents or teachers not talk to you guys about soulmates? We communicate in our heads.’

That made much more sense as to why you could hear someone talking to you but couldn’t see anyone. ‘Thank you.’

‘Don’t thank me, your panicking made it hard to focus.’ You rolled your eyes at that and stood back up. ‘Just go ask to retake the test if you’re so worried about it.’ That was actually a good idea now that you had thought about it.

And thus the first interaction with your soulmate. Even if they were a bit blunt. You didn’t have many conversations in the early years of your lives. As you approached High School though the conversations came much easier.

‘What high school are you going to?’ You looked down at the three papers in front of you.

‘I’m not telling you that. You might be my soulmate but that doesn’t mean you aren’t a creep.’

‘You’ve literally known me your whole life and can hear what I’m think.’ You rolled your eyes. It was a bit of a habit when dealing with your soulmate. ‘I’m stuck between a couple. We can meet generically if you want or we can go to school together.’

‘Itachiyama.’ What?

‘That’s where I’ll be going to school.’ You felt a smile growing on your face at the news. You pulled out your laptop and began filling out the entrance form.

‘There’s no guarantee that I’ll get in but I’d like to meet you. Talking to you is nice.’

‘I enjoy talking with you too. Now go to sleep, we’re on the same time and I don’t want to listen to you complain about not getting enough sleep.’ It was little things like that. They reminded you that this was in fact your soulmate. Not just a friend that comes and goes. Someone you're with for life, for better or worse.

‘Goodnight K’

‘Goodnight N/N’

You had gotten into the school. Yet you still hadn’t met your soulmate. Well, that’s not entirely true but you didn’t know that you had met your soulmate. The universe works in mysterious ways.

‘I can’t believe it’s been months and I still haven’t met you.’

‘Maybe you have and don’t know it. It is a possibility. It’s a big school and we’re bound to cross paths at some point.’ With a laugh you finished off your notes.

‘I don’t want to force too much. I think it’s a bad idea to figure out a time or place to meet, I have faith in the universe that we’ll meet at some point.’ Tempting the universe too much was never a good idea. Enough movies and shows have taught you that much. Although, it was tempting. Why would it let you get into the same school? Be in the same vicinity but never meet. Not truly at least. Questions for once you found him.

You at least knew that much. Your soulmate was a him, his friends teased him relentlessly for smiling if you said something funny. That he played a sport, and that you two were at the very least friends. You had details but they were still vague enough that it made it difficult to find him.

Day in and day out you would look at people in your classes and wonder if he could be one of them. He of course laughed at you when he heard the thoughts run rampant in your head. If he was in your class you didn’t know, what you did know though was that he was happy you were looking for him. ‘I’m glad you’re looking for me.’

‘Wow? I never expected such a statement from the reserved K’ You smile as you scribble on your paper. Hearts, lines, letters. ‘My mom wants me to join a club.’

‘Which club do you want to join?’

‘Aren’t you in a club?’

‘Yes.’ He wouldn’t tell you which one no matter how many times you asked. “It’d be too easy if we narrowed it down.” He would say. That’s the point. Years of having this voice in your head and no face to go along with it. It was a little frustrating. Your eyes scanned your classroom, many of your classmates had found their soulmates. Purposely going to the same school and meeting each other. The difference between you and them was that they pushed the universe.

You and K had a delicately practiced dance. You would push and he would pull, sometimes he would push and you would pull. Memories of the high school conversation passed in your head. It had been so easy to get that information from him. Why was this so hard? Shaking your head you packed up and went to the bulletin board to see which clubs needed help. What caught your eye immediately was volleyball. You enjoyed the sport well enough. The team was looking for a manager.

‘I think I’m going to apply to be a manager of a sports team.’

‘Maybe it will be mine.’

‘I hate when you do that.’

‘Do what?’

‘I say something and you tease me for being hopeful.’

‘Maybe I was giving you hope.’ You hadn’t thought of it like that. You had always thought of it as him shutting down your attempts. Maybe he was giving you hope, he told you what high school he was going to. He told you he was on a sports team. So now here you stand looking at the sports section of the board and the first thing your eyes landed on was a almost hidden away post.

‘Did you hang up a post?’

‘If I did you wouldn’t know. If I didn’t you still found one that caught your eye and are trying for it. Take a jump. I’ll try to catch you if you fall.’

‘That was cheesy, even for me. But, thank you.’ With newfound courage you walked to the gym, it wasn’t loud since it was before practice. The team would be away on lunch at the moment. You quickly found the coach though. “Hello, I’m here to apply for the manager position for the volleyball team.” You smiled and held out your hand after approaching the man. He looked at you and nodded. He shook your hand and gave a run down on the things you would be expected to do.

“If that’s not too hard you’re welcome to the position. Show up here Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Thursdays as well but that will mostly be a quick stop to let me know if you see anything that I don’t catch and their grades and such.” You nodded along to the information with a wide smile on your face. From what you heard of the team they were really good. And there was a silent hope that you would meet K here.

“Alright, see you after school then coach!” You left the gym and went to lunch yourself. ‘K! I got the position!’

‘That’s nice, why are you yelling though?’

‘Because I’m excited.’ You huffed and sat down at your table. ‘I hope I’m not disturbing your lunch.’

‘We literally talk the whole lunch period everyday. Why are you so worried about it? Did someone say something?’ You smiled at his thoughtfulness. The more you two talked the more thoughtful and caring he appeared.

‘No, I’m just nervous for my first day on the job.’ You knew he was rolling his eyes at that.

‘No need to be nervous. You’ll probably be doing easy stuff and getting introduced to everyone.’ You knew he was right and it was silly to be nervous. You were still nervous though. What if you meet him and he doesn’t like you? ‘Stop. I can hear what you’re thinking, remember?’ Oh. Yeah. That.

‘If we meet I’m sure I’ll like you.’

‘You can’t know that for sure! What if you find me annoying?’

‘You’re not. Lunch is almost over, go to your last classes and then we’ll see if you picked my team.’ You were still nervous but he worked at reassuring you. Even though it didn’t calm you completely it was still nice.

One last skip for now. No one wants to sit in their thoughts. Or at least it’s not healthy to. Let’s see how you’re doing as a manager shall we?

Once you arrived in the gym again you began setting things up. It seemed you were early. Oh well, the coach said that it would be helpful to set up on days you got there before everyone else. Once the net got set up you went searching for the volleyballs. They’ve got to be around here somewhere.

“I would check in the storage closet.” A sudden voice shocked you and you jumped. You turned around and came face to face with one of your classmates.

“Komori right?” He nodded.

“I’ll check with you, the others should be getting here soon. Sorry you had to set it up by yourself.” He seemed nice, you had very minimal interactions in class but you always knew him as kind.

“It’s no problem, I’m your new manager so it was the least I could do.” He smiled at you as he showed you the cart of volleyballs.

“You’ll be meeting my cousin today. Don’t mind him, he can be a little off-putting when you first meet him.” Okay, well that was worrying. ‘K, I met one of the team members and he’s already told me to be careful of someone.’

‘You’ve got this, I wish I could talk but I’m about to start practice and I don’t think either of us wants me to get hurt.’

‘I don’t know, you’ll have more time to talk to me that way.’ You smiled and of course Komori noticed. “Soulmate?” You kind of forgot he was there but nodded.

“Yeah, apparently he’s about to start practice and made a joke.” Komori nodded and helped you push the carts out into the gym. The team had arrived by the time you guys had gotten back. One of them caught your eyes though. The tall dark haired boy. Sakusa. A lot of girls in your grade talked about him and how they wished he was their soulmate. Your cheeks heated up when you remembered you had a soulmate. Now was not the time to be gawking at boys.

‘Who are you gawking at?’

‘No one!’

‘Mhm, like I literally didn’t just hear you tell yourself to stop looking at someone.’

‘It’s nothing, one of the people on the team is just cute that’s all.’ You rolled your eyes and put on a smile before introducing yourself to everyone. “Hello, I’m L/N F/N. I’ll be your manager starting today. It’s lovely meeting everyone.” You stood back up and gave them all a smile. You noticed one of the players stiffened at the interaction. Maybe that’s what Komori said when he said his cousin could be a little off-putting.

You let them get to practice after that though, not wanting to hold them up any longer. Your eyes didn’t leave Sakusa though. He was mesmerizing to watch play. He looked like he enjoyed it. A stark contrast to him looking disinterested a moment ago. Get it together Y/N.

You had been spacing out for so long that it was time to pack up when you finally returned to reality. Komori said he would help you clean up but surprisingly Sakusa also agreed to help. Doesn’t he hate new people though?

‘You have that effect on people. No one ever hates you.’ Your cheeks heated up and you almost dropped the volleyball you were holding.

‘SINCE WHEN WERE YOU SUCH A FLIRT??????’ You placed the ball in the cart and looked around to see if there were anymore as you tried to calm yourself down.

‘I don’t know. I didn’t feel very good listening to you gawk over a guy for my entire practice.’

‘MAYBE IT WAS YOU???? EVER THINK ABOUT THAT???’ Not seeing anymore you turned back around to push the carts back to the storage room.

“Hey L/N, why do you look so flustered?” Komori being ever so helpful to point it out made you even more flustered.

“Because my soulmate decided to be unhelpful and flirt with me.”

“They don’t usually?” It was Sakusa’s turn to chime in now.

“No. Or at least not so obviously.” The boys helped you put the carts back. ‘Thank you so much for that. Now you’ve got people questioning why I’m acting the way I am.’

‘You’re welcome. Get home soon, it’s getting late.’

“Well, it was nice to meet you guys but I need to head home now.”

“See you later L/N”

“Yeah, see you.” With that you left the gym excited that you made more friends.

And with that chapter one is complete. I’m going to write the first chapter for all the installments of the series before continuing with a specific one. So, stay tuned for those! My askbox is open if you would like to request something and love you guys! Hope you enjoyed!

Likes, reblogs, and comments are always appreciated

Taglist:

Masterlist

[mixelation]

itachi lying about getting his mangekyou from thinking he saw tori die is such a concept omg. Like truly gaslighting everyone.

team 4 really is gaslight gatekeep girlbossing their way through life :)

here's some dialogue lol

“It’s become apparent we need to be better at communicating,” Itachi said, standing in front of them like he was reporting to the Hokage. “We need to have a better understanding of each other’s limits and foreknowledge.”

Itachi did have his mangekyou. Tori had not needed to jump off a bird. 

“But did you want Kushina-sensei to know you have it?” Deidara asked, confused. 

Itachi stared thoughtfully at the wall behind Tori’s bed. 

“I suppose not,” Itachi said finally. 

“Then you’re welcome,” Tori replied dryly. “Does anyone know you have it?”

“No,” Itachi said flatly. 

“....do we need to fake a reason you have it?” Tori said cautiously, and Deidara immediately opened his mouth to ask what that meant.

“That would be… convenient,” Itachi said slowly, ignoring Deidara’s questions. 

“Okay, you can’t just announce we need to be better at communicating and refuse to communicate, yeah,” Deidara complained. 

Itachi stared at him. Tori let out an exaggerated sigh. 

“A regular sharingan evolves to a mangekyou under extreme emotional distress,” she told Deidara. “Like, extreme distress. Kill-someone-you-love distress.”

“Oh,” Deidara said, sounding taken aback, a rare emotion for him. After a beat, he asked, “Is that why you killed your family?”

“....No,” Itachi said. 

They stared at each other. Deidara’s eye started twitching. 

“That is a whole conversation we don’t have time for right now,” Tori said. “Although, Itachi, we should have a conversation eventually.”

“I know,” Itachi said, finally pulling his eyes away from Deidara.

Tori decided to change the direction of the conversation and turned to Deidara, sitting next to her on her bed. She kicked the side of his leg. 

“What about you? Still got a seal in your chest?”

“Not yet,” Deidara said, hand automatically going for the mouth in his chest. “I didn’t need it until puberty.”

Apparently, at some point during his growth spurt when most people’s chakra reserves naturally expanded, his chakra had gone haywire. Deidara was born with crazy large reserves; puberty had expanded them to levels he’d been unable to control. Iwa had sealed a bunch of it away out of fear of him blowing himself up. It was rare but not unheard of in people with Explosion Release. 

“That possibility is something you should have mentioned months ago,” Itachi said. “Kushina-sensei could–” 

“I might be able to control it this time,” Deidara cut him off. “The seal they do is permanent. I don’t want it unless it’s necessary, yeah.”

“I’m sure Konoha’s multiple fuinjutsu masters–” Itachi started. 

“I can take any seal off,” Tori interrupted before Itachi implied Konoha would be inherently better at managing Iwa’s bloodline limit than Iwa and Deidara started yelling. “But don’t you dare put me in a position where I have to make one up on the spot because you’re on the brink of exploding. Go tell Kushina-sensei they told you you’d need one when you were a kid, or Kurotsuchi mentioned it or something.”

“Fine,” Deidara griped and then solved half a croissant into his mouth. Then he glared at Tori. “And what ‘bout you?” he asked through a mouthful of bread. “What can you even do?”

“Uh,” Tori replied. 

Tori was not even sure she could die. 

“You can’t, like, tell?” Deidara asked. 

“No,” Tori replied. “I think I’d have to talk to the Shinigami to find out, and that’s not an experiment I’m prepared to repeat casually.”

“It would be convenient,” Itachi said, scratching his chin like he was having some sort of idea. “If you died temporarily, that would explain my mangekyou…”

As touching as it was that Itachi considered her a friend, Tori refused to do this unless Tsunade herself was immediately on hand. She definitely didn’t want to discover she was mortal now and actually die. And if she lived, she didn’t want to permanently damage herself. 

“My fuuinjutsu is probably on par with what it was before,” she said, changing the subject. “In theory I have more options because I can use chakra now, but I haven’t explored those much yet.”

“And you can melt people now, yeah,” Deidara said, then kicked her leg back. “You don’t have any other insane medical techniques you just forgot could have combat uses, do you?”

Tori stared down at her coffee cup, thinking this question over. She’d never gotten very good at the chakra scalpel technique. Could she use basic healing techniques for anything…?

“I hate that you have to think that hard, yeah,” Deidara told her.

[blaithnne]

I think my one complaint about Anders is that I wish we’d seen him leave of his own accord at least once. Unfortunately I doubt that would be possible due to time constraints but, I think if we’d gotten to see how Hilda was affected by him actually leaving and not being fairynapped it would have better shown what kind of person he is, and been a really good representation of what a lot of real kids go through. That moment where Hilda finally realised her Father abandoned her is so heartbreaking, raw, and real, and the fact that it’s later revealed he didn’t kind of undermines that.

I’m not against Anders changing for the better - it’s a kids show, and it makes sense they’d want to give him a character arch instead of just introducing him to be a dick lol. It also makes sense for his character to have nearly losing his entire family forever be a wake up call for him. But I wish we’d gotten more time with him, and really seen the effects of him leaving for real. Without that, we can generally assume that it had the same effect as him being kidnapped did in canon, but it’s just not the same.

I’m of the opinion that introducing Hilda’s dad as a concept was a good decision, and I don’t think it undermines the shows found family. It gives Hilda a relatable and realistic aspect to her that I think is important for kids in similar situations to see. I am, however, very biased in that regard.

My biological father was an asshole who fucked off before I was born, but I’ve had no absence of family or fatherly role models - I’m very close with my adoptive dad and my grandad. But that didn’t mean I never had questions, or insecurities.

It’s easy to look at fictional tropes and say that found family is clearly superior and biology doesn’t mean shit, and that’s true! But when you’re living in that reality, when you’re young and coming to terms with it for the first time, it’s hard. Especially when you’re surrounded by people who all have blood relations with their families, and when the person you’re related to is regarded as a dick. it really makes you feel isolated and like there’s something wrong with you, like you’re an outsider — you’re different.

Real life people are messy and have insecurities that defy reason, you might logically know that biology doesn’t matter, but when you’re thirteen and insecure and full of inner turmoil, you can’t help but feel bad.

Personally, as I got older, I met people in similar situations and realised I wasn’t alone, that it was okay to have those feelings but it didn’t make them true. But at that age, having grown up in a rural community, I really was alone.

Hilda’s insecurities in season 3 are a great representation of that, she feels like she’s never had a proper family, this thing with Frida, David, Tontu, Alfur and Johanna and Astrid is all new to her. You can tell her Father’s absence has hurt her, how she’s felt different and alone and like something was missing. Hilda defines her worth through her relationships with others, how she can help them make them happy, it destroyed her when she felt like she failed Frida, imagine how she feels about her father.

What I think season 3 was missing was for Hilda to realise that she doesn’t need Anders, and that her happiness isn’t reliant on him being there, I wish she’d had a tad more agency in the relationship, yk? She wants him to be in her life, and he’s going to make an effort now to do that, but she has a support system in place and will be perfectly fine without him. I wish the show had properly acknowledged that just because this is how things ended up, it wasn’t the only option — with or without Anders, Hilda would still have been happy with her family in the end, the fact that he’s a part of it is a nice bonus, but not an essential one.

In general, I think Anders is the best they could do with the time they were given. Having him be a realistic shitty dad who loves his daughter but is just so bad at it is relatable and realistic, though I wish they’d better emphasised that just because he loves hers that doesn’t make his actions okay (perhaps by slightly altering Johanna’s moment with Hilda at the end of The Job), because it’s clear, I think, as a diehard fan, but might not be for more casual viewers.

Having him be redeemable and stick around to do better is a good conclusion for his arch, it’s a happy ending all around and makes sense for the story - it could’ve been weird if they just had him show up and then immediately leave with zero resolution to his character, unless they made him an all out irredeemable abuser, which I think would’ve been worse than what we got. Portraying abusers as unforgivable and cartoonish villains only makes it harder for real life victims to recognise their situations, so if it couldn’t be portrayed properly (which thanks to time constraints and the overall narrative I don’t believe it could be) I’m glad they went with something else.

What we’ve got is, and I know I’ve said this many times lol, a realistic depiction of a crappy, absentee father, that young viewers can recognise and relate to. On that end, the biggest issues are Hilda’s lack of agency within their storyline, since she has no control in the resolution of their relationship, young people looking to this show for ways to cope with their own situations might be discouraged by the end resolution of “he decided to stick around”, since that resolution rests on his decision, not Hilda’s, if that makes sense.

TLDR; Overall, I think Anders’ was a good character and the best that could’ve been done with what the team was given, but,

A) I wish we’d gotten to see him leave of his own accord at least once, so that Hilda’s final realisation that he left her on purpose has more impact and doesn’t loose its meaning in retrospect, and,

B) That Hilda had more agency in the final resolution of their dynamic, that their happily ever after wasn’t entirely reliant on Anders swearing he won’t leave. An alternative solution, maybe presented earlier on in the season when he first left, that provided her with a coping mechanism/outlet in case he does, so that her happiness and mental health isn’t in his hands, would’ve been pretty neat.

[terulakimban]

The “cultural Christianity” stuff is making the rounds again. And what I think a lot of people who object are missing about that designation is that you have to actually leave a culture to not be part of it anymore, and even then, it will still shape a lot of how you first react to things.

I’m American. I have spent, collectively, a grand total of four months (rounded up) outside the US. My parents were born here. My grandparents were born here. I am pretty definitively culturally American, for all that literally no one in my family identifies as “American” before they identify as “Jewish.”

I can say American culture sucks. There’s a lot about it (yes, I know there’s more than one. Yes, they can be quite different. Yes, there can be a great deal of tension between them. No, that doesn’t necessarily make that much difference from the outside. Yes, that is quite relevant to the extended metaphor I’m going for here) that does. What I can’t do is say I’m not actually a part of it. I’m a citizen. I’m surrounded by other Americans at pretty much all times. I’m not emigrating, I’m not making a point of immersing myself in specific local expat communities as a cultural immersion thing. I’m certainly not “from no country.” I definitely don’t have a more objective sense of American culture than someone who isn’t American and is living here reluctantly. I may have a more in-depth sense of it, but there’s no way they don’t have the basics down, because it is fucking everywhere, and they are constantly running into people who are trying to make them assimilate into it (further) in some sort of attempt to help them be normal. And they, unlike me, have a sense of what it looks like in comparison to something else.

Now. Let’s say I decide I hate America and everything it stands for and I don’t want to live here. But my family’s here, and I’ve got positive memories. I don’t have the money to go somewhere else. So rather than actually leave, I develop a deep fixation on another country. Maybe it’s based on a shallow understanding from stereotypes, maybe it’s a genuine respectful interest. But surrounding myself with a bunch of other Americans while we go on about... I dunno, how much we love England and tea does not erase how we’ve spent our whole lives being American, and it certainly doesn’t erase how we’re still living in America. Let’s say I take it a step further. Let’s say I actually emigrate somewhere. There’s two extremes. Either I fully immerse myself in my new country. I learn the language, I participate in the culture, I genuinely try to immerse myself. Or, I feel uncomfortable because things are weird and different and not quite what I’m used to, so I surround myself with a bunch of other American expats, and we spend all of our time talking about America. Maybe we talk about how much we hated it and how awesome we are for leaving it and how much it sucks and how everyone who’s there is terrible. Maybe we talk about the good things. But we’re still centering our existence around America.

But even in the first of those options, where I genuinely try to acculturate, there’s still going to be things that pop up for the rest of my life where those initial few decades of life in the US will shape my expectations. Maybe they’ll be small things “oh right, sales tax is listed on prices here.” Maybe they’ll be big things “excuse me, what just happened in parliament?” But I will always have that American lens with me. Even if I hate it. Even if I found it traumatizing. That’s not a moral judgement on me, it’s just how formative life experiences work. I can become not-American. I can’t become never-American. 

Cultural existence in a religious framework -any religious framework -works the same way, because religion both has and shapes culture. When I bitch about the omnipresence of cultural Christianity, I’m not calling anyone who is culturally Christian bad. I’m complaining about the pervasiveness of Christian hegemony. When I complain about culturally Christian atheists (which I only ever do in the context of specific behaviors by specific people), I’m not saying “these people are terrible and unredeemable,” I’m saying “there is a very clear pattern of people taking the step of saying they dislike Christianity but then trying to enforce Christian hegemony by claiming the parts they like are secular, thereby effectively coming across from an outside perspective as a continuation of the general attempt at forced Christianization.”

If you hated the Christian family you grew up with and everything about them and Christianity but like Christmas and want to celebrate it, that’s fine. Genuinely happy for you you’ve got something you enjoy! Have fun! Nog your eggs! Deck your halls! Call it Festivus and put up a pole instead of a tree! Do an anti-Christmas where you decorate with Halloween decorations in Santa costumes and celebrate with spooky stuff! But that doesn’t make it secular. It makes it you finding the one bright spot you had in darkness and hanging onto it. I sincerely respect that -it’s difficult to do. The thing is, I’m not in that darkness, and you trying to insist everyone have that light of yours comes across as yet another person shining the interrogation light of “why can’t you just be normal like me” in my face.

I don’t want Christmas. I want freedom from it. “Everyone can have Christmas” in response to “I don’t want Christmas” doesn’t come across as a friendly offer to share. It comes across as an aggressive attempt to force assimilation specifically on people who say they’re actively fighting it.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Scott and Hope’s child (Hank Jr. Edition)

Scott Lang/Hope van Dyne x child!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Scott and Hope have a baby girl (reader). And everything seems to be fine, but somewhere from the age of five, it becomes clear that the reader is a complete copy of her grandfather Hank Pym, that is: she is incredibly smart, she loves ants (she can talk about them for hours), she also has problems controlling anger (she hit a guy in the face at school for saying that ant-man sucks), thinks that there is no one smarter than her and her grandfather, and she also transferred his sarcastic communication style and views on things and people around, for example, when she first met Tony, she said: "You can never trust Stark."”

somewhere in the distant future a special kid was born

and that special kid had special parents and special grandparents

and those parents and grandparents were two generations of superheroes who saved countless lives (and, well, the world)

so it was no surprise to them that this next generation would be just as intelligent and caring as the ones before them

*cue a toddler with crayons in class*

“and then my grandpa asked the ants nicely to fly him to a bunch of different places and do all these cool things like move stuff around and like do other stuff” -you rambling on

“do you like anything besides ants?” -your teacher

“no” -you, continuing to draw ants on your paper

hank and janet were quite proud grandparents

and scott and hope, your wonderful amazing parents…couldn’t get enough of it

“honey, what about wasps? wasps are cool, right?” -hope

“no” -you

“she’s spending too much time with my dad” -hope

“well, he’s the only babysitter we’ve got since cassie got that new job” -scott

“oh, you mean our old job? yeah, miss those days where we could go flying around getting into trouble and beating people up” -hope

“well, you promised we’d retire so y/n wouldn’t end up with a childhood like yours” -scott

“y/n’s gonna want to be a superhero when they get older, arent they?” -hope

“let’s not think too far ahead. it might kill me” -scott

scott reads you his biography every night before bed

and you always giggle at the parts where your mom and grandpa bully him

“hey, not funny!” -scott

“so funny” -you

“dont get any ideas” -scott

“daddy, are you gonna get arrested again?” -you

“if i do it’ll be grandpa hank’s fault” -scott

you continued spending time with grandpa hank and grandma janet

and they spoiled the crap out of you

hank…got you an ant farm

“now you’re just being ridiculous, hank” -janet

“what? i’m just having some bonding time with my grandchild! hope never wanted anything to do with me growing up” -hank

once you started getting older, you wanted to hang out in grandpa’s lab allll the time. day and night

your parents hated it

“hey, think this one will suck us all into the quantum realm?” -scott

“it was one time!” -cassie

cassie was at hank and janet’s a lot, too, actually. they always wanted to help her with her suits and gadgets and all that

and make sure she had plenty of pym particles

“you have enough, right? here, take some more, i have plenty” -hank

“grandpa, please, i have more than enough, thank you” -cassie

“can i have some pym particles?” -you

“we can play with them in the backyard next time youre over” -hank

you draw new suit designs for cassie all the time

some of them she actually incorporates into her suits

and as you get older, you try to start designing more tech for her

“y/n is really scaring me” -hope

“why?” -scott

“just watch her and my parents together…they’re the same” -hope

“dear god, what have we done” -scott

“dad, look at this new pym particle powered weapon, i just finished the prototype!” -you

“okay, now i’m mad because where was this when i needed it!” -scott

“fifteen to twenty years too late” -hope

“we should have gotten together sooner” -scott

“i disagree” -hope

“wow, not even a pity agreement” -scott

asking your parents if they’ll get back into crime fighting

they said no

asking if you can get into crime fighting

they said no again

so you just kinda stockpiled all your ideas

and did everything you could to further your grandpa’s work

and help your sister

and keep your parents’ minds at ease (doesn’t really work)

and maybe one day you’ll be able to ride those ants and kick some ass like you always dreamed

taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @evilcr0ne // @v0idl1nq // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 //

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

oh! theres actually something thats been going around on bsd twitter that rimbaud and verlaine were, in a way, a generation of soukoku themselves? unofficially? and i think it makes sense! theres also those little parallels between rimbaud and dazai believing in verlaine and chuuyas humanity....the meta sense where one has a lighter hair color and the other dark....etc etc..i really wished we could've seen rimbaud and verlaine more as a duo, and what kind of dynamic they have back then.

Oh yeah there’s definitely parallels! What’s neat though is that both Dazai and Chuuya have commonalities with both Rimbaud and Verlaine.

Dazai - Rimbaud: dark hair, polite, logical and detached except with specific people who they intensely care for, grows darker from extended time spent in the dark, thinks the world of their respective partnerships and always see their partner as human

Dazai - Verlaine: nihilistic worldview, think they should not have been born, feel inherently different and separate from humanity, feel like a cursed/unholy existence and think negatively of themselves (which unfortunately enables them to be worse), decide to make their problems everyone else’s problems

Chuuya - Rimbaud: follow the commands of their organizations yet have more personally driven motivations, enjoy having a trusted other at their side, assert the importance of living - a refusal of their partner’s brand of defeated nihilism, see Verlaine as just like a human even though he’s a clone and empathize with him

Chuuya - Verlaine: lighter hair, same ability, similar appearance, similar backstory, never stops fighting, destructive with the wish to burn everything down (though Chuuya fights this), cocky and flaunts their strength (the pear scene with N) but this strength also makes them feel outcasted, deeply deeply lonely

These are just off the top of my head so I’m sure there’s more if you really go through the text (and perhaps I also misspoke on some of these), but there’s a lot there already. It seems pretty deliberate, from an author’s standpoint.

The thing that Rimbaud and Verlaine didn’t have was that mutual unshakeable trust that makes Soukoku so powerful. Rimbaud trusted Verlaine, but Verlaine was resentful, and that destroyed them. And that’s kind of why I’d like to see at least one of their missions together - because I bet you that would show. What would that look like? Both occupying similar positions? Lack of communication? One of them deviates without warning but “it’s fine because it all worked out”? Really neat to think about.

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

Lute: “Wait- your new name Vesper isn’t in DEFIANCE of your Morningstar hell family, but a MIRROR of it???”

Vesper Bill: (cocking the gun full of heavenly bullets that their uncle Pentious made for them)

Vesper Bill: “Always was.”

Vesper Bill: (shoots Lute’s halo off her head instead of killing her) (like mother like child)

XD this is so dumb i love

behold my version of the chaggie spear baby's full character profile!

NAME: (redacted)bil(redacted)s Morningstar -> Vesper Bill, one word, not ‘Vesper’ or ‘Bill, always ‘Vesper Bill’.

NATURE: Weapon-born demonic Exorcist angel. Mortal. Slow aging.

OCCUPATION: Overlord, supplier for Rosie’s Emporium and Carmilla Carmine’s weapons business, Exorcist slayer and rehabilitator, cowboy grim reaper cosplayer, garden weeder.     

TERRITORY: Hell’s first community garden.

THEIR “THING”: Soul savings accounts and debt forgiveness programs. Killing murderous Exorcists.   - Entrust your soul to them so you can’t be tempted / pressured into selling it to anyone else. They’ll give it back if you ask, but you do have to ask first, and they’re usually good at figuring out some other way of getting what you want.  - Checks in with other overlords to see which sinners owe stuff and pays the debt / kills / scares off the overlord if they can. Then gives an accidentally terrifying visit to the former indebted sinner so they can say their favorite line of: “I’m Vesper Bill, and yours is due…. Never. It’s been paid off. Congrats.” (hands over a flyer about their moms' Hazbin Hotel)   - Their less favorite line is when they only say the first part of the above, right before killing an Exorcist. All resulting bodies are sold to Rosie, the weapons to Carmilla, and the funds go towards the community garden.

RELATIONS: Their moms run a struggling hotel business, all the live-guests of which are their uncles/aunts/grandpa.

ENEMIES: Most of heaven and a good part of hell. Their full birth name. Flower pollen. Mint.

STRUGGLES: - “It’s not a phase, moms.” (about their goth cowboy theme) – (tips hat at a lady) (walks into car bc they weren’t watching where they were going) – (coughing and sneezing and voice often sounds rough and terrifying bc they have allergies but won’t stop weeding in the garden) - Having tiny stubby demon horns that won’t grow bigger (covers with hat) (hat was a gift and orinially came from Earth) – keeping their demon tail under control (hides it under their coat).

LOVES: - Their moms, the princess of hell and her former Exorcist angel girlfriend. - The hazbin hotel family crew. - Gardening. - Cowboy stuff. - Being annoying to heaven. - Women who could vaporize them physically or emotionally with a smile or a knife either way.

PROUDEST MOMENT: Successfully infiltrating heaven, tricking Lute with a pretend hatred of their moms, wrecking shit, getting a weapon’s upgrade from their uncle, and leading a handful of now former Exorcists back down to hell with them on the way out.

POWERS: - Angelic resilience. - Demonic strength. - Summoning or banishing anyone who’s soul they have in trust, from or to the place of their choice (within the Pride Ring) (mostly used as taxi service). - Skilled at cutting weeds and brush with a scythe. - Good dancer. - Responsible gun owner and operator. - Kids love them.    

Trivia: Got into their cowboy phase after a brief one-time visit to Earth where they played guardian angel for an actual cowgirl for a day. Thinks about her a lot. Ready to go be a nuisance to Heaven again if she ends up there and wants company- is also trying to grow her favorite flowers down here in Hell, just in case. (also puts on red cheek spots makeup everyday, bc they are Charlie's kid too and PROUD of it)

and that's it, that's my take on the chaggie spear baby idea thing, all grown up!

it's ridiculous. i had so much FUN with it

[chatterkat]

Saw you in a dream

Are you who you seem?

Was it always in the cards for me to be aimless?

No direction

Nothing pulling me down from the sky

It seems like I always get too high

Ruby in a bit of shock from the vision she got from her mother, questions who she really was. She lied, she wasn’t perfect. Ruby’s been idealizing her mother her whole life , and been trying to be just like her, but Ruby has also struggled with what that means for a long time as well. She thought she needed to be like her mom, but how she doesn’t know what to think.

Oh, the air is cold

I don't know how to breathe

I'm begging, can you

Guide my way out

Of this place?

Ruby wants answers, but she isn’t going to get them from the person she most wants them from.

Red like roses fills my dreams

Calling back to the previous red like roses, we know that this refers to Ruby’s nightmares of her mother’s bloody demise. However it’s also again just representing the nightmare that is Ruby’s struggle with her own identity.

Open wide

You were born to hypnotize them all

They said their prayers

(Can you, can you)

Can you hear me up there?

Now this is interesting! It sounds like a response from Summer. Much like how she responses in Red like Roses II. In that song it’s unclear whether it’s a Summer from elsewhere feeling those regrets (I think there is surely a good chance she had become like the hound) or if it was an imagined response by Ruby. It was almost ghostly, like the dead trying to answer the living but unable to actually communicate with each other.

It’s possible it is Ruby still in this lyric since the can you hear me up there part, might make sense from Ruby having fallen down though the world talking back up towards Remnant. However the other lyrics in this section don’t make sense as much sense then. I think it could easily be Summer again speaking from wherever she is dead or alive? Perhaps she is part of the tree and that is what she means by up there.

Open wide might be a reference to Sky is Falling(as it may be a song for the hound) as the opposite of what the song there says which is to “close your eyes my friend” (and the hound is a SEW so…)

Anyway the usage of the word hypnotize is interesting. It’s not just their silver eyes that hypnotize, it’s their whole self. They may hypnotize their enemies(“they said their prayers”), but also If it’s indeed Summer talking about Ruby, then she has certainly hypnotized the world with her message given what we see in Vacuo. Ruby has that spark that charisma that gets people to follow her. It works too if it were a Ruby to Summer lyric in the sense it could represent Ruby’s idealization of Summer, but again it makes more sense IMO to be from Summer to Ruby.

Alternatively it’s Ruby talking about herself trying to hype herself up. She could be saying “can you hear me up there” as a threat to the cat or to Salem, that’s she’s gonna get them, but it seems too early in the song for that confident conclusion about herself

What survives

After all the dust is gone?

Were you there 'til the end?

(The end)

Were you at least called a friend?

These seem to directly call back to the volume 7 song Until the End which seems to be about Ruby(either from her POV or Summer’s) declaring she would be there until the end. It seems to refer to Ruby giving up briefly this volume with the tea. Would she be called a friend by others after giving up?

Or it could be Ruby questioning if her mom was there until the end, if she was a good person a friend in the end?

Otherside,

Did you mean to make me half or whole?

Will I ever be

(complete?)

When will I become all of me?

This is obviously back to Ruby’s perspective, as she questions whether she can ever truly be herself or always in her mother’s shadow. Ruby questions “otherside” and I’m unclear if that mean the otherside where her mother is or if otherside refers to the Ever After. Where the Ever After has both broken her and pushed her to become something new.

Guide my way out

Of this place

I can't define

Would it even be enough

To change my mind?

Your memory everlasting

At war with my foolish pride

What is left?

I know it's you and I

When I look inside

I'll be who you were

And I'll be even more

Ruby looks into herself and now realizes her idolization of her mother doesn’t gel with reality and her “foolish pride” of trying to live up to a standard that more illusion than reality. Interestingly she realizes she still carries this will or memory of her mother, but she no longer wants to be just like her, but rather both her and something greater…herself. She chooses herself.

A moment of quiet is all it takes

To reclaim a life and a promise made

I am the reflection of who prevails

I'm what inspired the fairytale

The emblem symbolizes the promise made, which Ruby never said what it was when she traded it away, but I have the feeling she thought it was a promise to come back, but in reality it was “I love you, just the way you are” Ruby reclaims the promise, hearing that echoed again from her mom is what let her finally be able to to choose herself. So Ruby also reclaims the emblem when she returns from the tree. I also think it symbolizes that part where she is who her mom was but more. Summer surrenders the emblem, and Ruby is truly defining it as hers now.

A moment of quiet is all it takes

To reclaim a life and a promise made

I am the reflection of who prevails

I'm what inspired the fairytale

(I'm what inspired the fairytale)

I think what is meant by this like is that Ruby is now being the one that would inspire a fairytale, she is being who she wants to be finally, and defining her own story her own fairytale instead of just living through others(her Moms, Alex’s)

Guide my way out

(I'll be free)

Of this place

(I'll escape it, I will guide my way out)

Guide my way out

Of this place

In the end Ruby will guide herself out, with this new understanding of herself and her mother. Her mother still helped guide her in the end with her promise and her truth that broke Ruby’s image of her, but now Ruby is breaking away from that and doing it her way.

If you got his far thanks for reading my analysis. Let me know what you think! I’ll be doing a rewatch soon if the series and hopefully more song analysis so stay tuned!

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

aita for wanting to maintain a relationship with my step-grandfather? (tw for mentions of child abuse and death)

so my (under 18, nb) step-grandpa (84) has been feeling lonely recently. his son passed away this february, and his best friend isn’t doing well healthwise and probably won’t make it to the end of the year. my grandma (74) has been communicating with me and my mom (47) about step-grandpa’s loneliness. i offered to help them adopt a cat (he said he didn’t want to have another pet die, though he is in his eighties, so…) and surprised him with a card for father’s day.

here’s where things get tricky. my actual grandfather died a few months before his daughter (my mom) was born, so my step-grandpa is the only father figure he’s ever known. he was pretty abusive when she was younger, to the point of kicking her out when she was 12, which caused her to get kicked out of middle school because the us public school system doesn’t care about at-risk teens and children. my mom also has some triggers because of this abuse, namely slamming doors. she was also abused by one of her stepbrothers, the one that died last february. the other stepbrother is a wonderful guy who’s gotten a lot of therapy and has cut off contact with his dad and brother, but still occasionally talks to my mom.

however, my step-grandpa has, according to my grandma, turned over a new leaf. he’s taking medication for mood swings and goes to therapy. apparently it saved their marriage, so good for them! despite this, my father (47) believes my step-grandpa is a “textbook psychopath” and has also stated numerous times that he doesn’t want me around my step-grandpa. my dad did not grow up around my step-grandpa. he did not know my step-grandpa until my mom introduced them when both my parents were well into their twenties (or possibly in their early thirties). my dad has never experienced my step-grandpa’s abuse. my dad hasn’t had a whole conversation with my step-grandpa since maybe before the pandemic.

i’m not asking to live full-time with my step-grandpa. i just want to take him to a pet shelter or somewhere where he can hang out with cats without necessarily having to adopt them. my mom is fine with this. my mom has actually been encouraging me to hang out with my step-grandpa more, because like i said, he’s lonely. i respect that my dad doesn’t want to talk to my step-grandpa, but i do. i’ve told him this, and he keeps insisting that i “keep my distance” and “be careful”. he is literally the only person who is saying this. even my mom gets along with my step-grandpa now that he’s gone to therapy. it might be a religion thing, as my dad is lutheran and my step-grandpa is a recovering jehovah’s witness (which did influence how he raised my mom) but last i heard, he is fully an atheist now and has apologized to my mom for being a shitty dad. i don’t understand why my dad is so wary of him. i just don’t want him to feel alone.

so, aita?

What are these acronyms?

[xiaq]

Why do feelings have to be so confusing???

I’ve never been super into labels, but if I had to choose I probably would have gone with aroace. I kind of figured I wouldn’t ever find someone I wanted to be in a relationship with and that was fine.

But now I’m 30 and somehow in a relationship for the very first time with this person that I love so much. And it’s wonderful and amazing in so many ways, but I also feel so crazy with it??

I feel like a teenager with their first crush but also too old for that and it’s like I don’t know how to trust myself in this because I’ve never felt anything close to this before.

Feeling romantic and sexual attraction for the first time there’s a part of me that’s like how has everyone been living like this the whole time??? It still doesn’t feel like it should be real somehow, even though I’m now experiencing it firsthand.

Anyway I don’t know exactly where I’m going with this, but if you either advice or even just stories to make me feel a little less ridiculous, I’d love to hear them!

I think it's really REALLY important to remember that socially reinforced ideas of normalcy when it comes to exploring sexuality are not, actually, normal. A. Because people are people and what works for one person doesn't work for others. While there's obviously going to be a bell curve on the graph of "when do people typically sort out who they want to kiss (or not kiss) and start doing that" there is going to be a steady, not insignificant, number of folks that are on the upward and downward swing of that bell curve before you even get to the far outliers, and that's to be expected. B. Traditionally accepted timelines for building a sense of sexual identity don't apply anymore. The average age for (first) marriage is creeping back each year. In the US in 1900 it was 26 for men and 22 for women. Now it's 29 and 27 respectively. Women, especially, don't have nearly the pressure placed upon them that they used to to quickly find someone who will take care of them seeing as we can now open bank accounts and own property and work for (mostly) equal pay and all that jazz. So there's that to consider.

But also. Humans, human bodies, are never stagnant. You might have heard the fun factoid that all our cells are replaced every 7 years. That's not entirely accurate, but it's true that the body does regenerate skin and bone and liver and stomach, and so on, cells at a kind of mind-boggling rate. There are things that we're born with that don't change like some of the neurons in our cerebral cortex, I think, but as a species we are generally made to adapt to new experiences and environments so much so that our bodies are in a constant state of change themselves. You're just...doing what you're built to do. Something new has happened and you're adapting to it.

And yes, it can be scary and make you feel very vulnerable when you don't have historical relationship or sex-related context like other people your age might have, but that's when you get to lean on friends and/or talk to your therapist to make sure you're approaching things in a healthy way, there aren't red flags you're missing, etc. Because humans are also pack animals and we thrive in communities in which we can share each others burdens and wisdom.

As someone who also had built what I thought was a pretty clear assessment of my romantic and sexual identity over 29 years, only to have it challenged and rebuilt at 30, I fully empathize with the way you feel. But I leaned into the feelings of confusion (and frankly, giddiness, at times). Who says teenagers are the only ones that get to experience first crushes? Who says 30 is too old for self-discovery? You get to decide how you interact with the world. Who cares what other people are doing if what you're doing makes you happy and hurts no one.

[atths--twice]

This Better Be Good

Hello! Welcome to the beginning of Fictober 2023! I hope you enjoy the stories I have planned. 💓😊

While out food shopping, Mulder calls Scully in typical Mulder fashion.

Nearly twelve dollars, this better be good, Scully thought as she added the “fresh and ready made!” meal to her shopping cart.

Continuing through the store, she placed more items in the cart. Her refrigerator at home had been left nearly depleted after she had tossed most of its contents an hour ago.

“That’s what happens when you’re not home much,” she muttered to herself as she debated between two bags of chips.

Her phone rang in her pocket, startling her and causing her to drop one of the bags onto the ground. She could almost see the chips breaking as she heard the loud crunch they made and she sighed.

“Scully,” she said, answering the phone as she bent to pick up the bag.

“Do you think that animals in zoos ever imagine their life beyond the walls?”

She froze and let out a deep breath, rolling her eyes as she snatched up the bag and stood to her feet.

“Mulder… what?” she asked, putting both bags of chips back and choosing a different one entirely.

“They’re wild animals, Scully,” he stated and she scoffed, rolling her eyes again.

“Were they taken from the wild or were they born at the zoo? There’s that thought to consider.”

“That’s what I mean though,” he said and she shook her head.

“What do you mean?” she asked, pushing the cart and walking down the aisle.

“Do you think the animals in the zoo think about life outside of it?”

“I think… if you were pitching an idea to a movie studio, it would be an interesting idea for an animated film, but beyond that… no, I don’t think they do.”

“You really don’t think, at some deep rooted level, that they know they are meant to be free and not living in the zoo?”

“No,” she said, opening the door to the dairy case to take out some milk. “First of all, they don’t know the meaning of the words zoo or free so they don’t know what they’re missing in one place over the other. They live in the zoo within their own community without the need to hunt or forage for food as it’s provided to them. They have a place to rest where no one is trying to hurt or kill them. I’d say if given the choice, they would choose to be in the zoo.”

“What are you wearing, Scully?”

She laughed quietly as she set the milk in the cart and then some small containers of plain yogurt before moving onto the eggs.

“You’ve asked me that question before,” she stated and he hummed.

“And I’ll ask it again, of that you can be sure,” he said and she laughed again.

“Are you watching a nature show or was this line of questioning just… you?” she asked, gesturing into the air with the container of eggs.

“Both. Well… the show got me thinking and-”

“And you had to call me.”

“You are the scientist, Scully.”

“You understand how science works, right?” she asked, rolling her eyes with a smile. “That there are different fields of study?”

“Meh,” he said and she could picture him shrugging. “And you still haven’t answered my previous question.”

“Well, given that I’m currently in a grocery store, I’ll let your imagination fill in the blanks.”

“You know if there was a topless grocery store, my cupboards would always be stocked.”

She snorted, turning down an empty aisle to laugh without being seen by any of the other shoppers.

“I’d actually probably have too much food,” he continued. “I’d have to donate some. Share it with my neighbors.”

“You’d offer to do any shopping they needed.”

“Hell, I’d have standing orders.”

She laughed and shook her head, glancing at the shelves full of cereal. Picking out a box of bran flakes, she continued down the aisle.

“But alas, there is no such thing,” he said with a deep sigh, which ended with a disappointed hum. “So I’ll just have to make do.”

“Poor man,” she teased. “Living the solitary life, surviving on Pop-Tarts and canned soups.”

“I also have frozen dinners,” he said, his tone sounding hurt, but she knew he was only pretending.

“And out of date orange juice.”

“That happened once.”

“To you. And then once to me,” she said, shivering as she recalled the taste of it.

“Well, that’s why takeout and delivery was invented. For those of us who are not as gifted in the kitchen.”

“Good thing or you’d have starved long ago.”

“Unlike the animals in the zoo.”

She laughed and covered her mouth, looking around to see if anyone had noticed. He hummed and she could practically hear his smile.

They fell silent and she paused in an aisle, waiting.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to your shopping. No more harassing you.”

“You’re not,” she assured him and he hummed again.

“Anyway,” he said, sighing and falling silent again.

“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yeah.”

“Bye, Mulder.”

“Bye, Scully.”

She was about to hang up when she thought of something.

“Hey.”

“Yeah?”

“You wanna come over for dinner?” she offered. “I could make something.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay. Yeah. Sure.”

“I mean it’s that or something previously frozen for you right?”

“I think tonight’s choice comes from a can.”

“Seven,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Or earlier, if you want to help.”

“I could… I could bring some wine?” he asked, almost hesitantly, and she smiled, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“I’ll be there.”

“Alright. See you then.”

“Bye, Scully.”

“See you soon, Mulder.”

She hung up and tapped a finger to her lips. Putting her phone back in her pocket, she began to plan a meal in her head.

Moving with purpose, she grinned as she first double backed onto the breakfast aisle and grabbed a box of Pop-Tarts.

[red-moon-at-night]

Currently concocting the most self-indulgent 'normal' Milgram AU in the world right now... I am going to make these fuckers Found Family and give them a chance to come to terms with their situations and themselves... 

All through the power of a goddamn fish shop/aquatics store.

Hear me out okay:

So we know that from his interrogation questions, Kazui has a childhood friend who he looks up to, that has a boat and if the world ended tomorrow he would go fishing. He mentions to Mikoto in a timeline conversation that one of of his hobbies is trawling. I am taking these facts and running with them like my life depends on it.

In this AU everyone lives in relative proximity to each other (I will have to think about exactly where later) and are all in different stages of their ‘sins’, but notably no one has actually killed a person.

Kazui is a widower having a midlife crisis at 39 and taking time off of work/leaves his job altogether to pursue something new - like helping out his childhood friend with his fishing-store-come-fishkeeping-aquatics-shop. Yes it’s weird that it’s both but it brings in more footfall and more customers (is what his childhood friend tells him). It becomes a bit of a running gag. Kazui also starts running martial arts classes in the evenings because I can totally see that being something he wished he’d done instead of... whatever his old job was. Anyway, he’s depressed but somewhat happy doing the things he loves.

Meanwhile over to the left we have Haruka finally being discharged from a psychiatric unit on a community treatment order (yay!) Part of that community treatment order includes a program where individuals volunteer in the local community with partnered businesses... Haruka picks the fish shop, obviously. But he’s getting paid for it, because Kazui is not about to agree to free child labour. So Haruka gets a job!

Cue a journey of self-discovery in which Haruka learns he is actually not useless or a burden to society. He can do things? He’s been given responsibility? And he enjoys it?? Mind blown. Kazui is there to support and encourage along the way. Just wholesome all around (except for the trauma Haruka has to unpack about his mother and her fish tank ohoho-)

Haruka is the first kid Kazui ‘adopts’. The second kid is Muu who wanders in the shop one afternoon, missing a shoe and has a thousand-yard stare in her eyes. We then have this scene: Kazui asks if she’s okay and she eventually replies something along the lines of “yeah I’m fine I just tripped while trying to catch up with a... friend” and Kazui then asks if that’s why she’s only wearing one shoe and if she needs a spare and she says “no I just forgot to put it on until now thanks for reminding me” and takes a shoe out of her bag and puts it on. Kazui decides she’s exactly the right kind of person for Haruka to practice his social skills with and gets him to go over there and help her out. They awkwardly talk about the betta fish tank they’re standing next to. She leaves. She comes in the next day and says she’s decided to set up a new tank at home could she get some help with supplies. The rest is history.

Muu starts skipping school and hanging out at the fish shop, to get away from her... situation at school. She still hasn’t talked to Rei since that day in the bathroom. Kazui is slightly concerned but also isn’t a snitch and would’ve bunked off school as a youth so is pretty chill with it as long as she’s safe. The fish crew is born.

Some extra very important bits of lore:

Kazui takes Haruka on dad-and-son fishing trips.

At some point Kazui ‘adopts’ a third kid except it’s actually his child from a fling about two decades ago. It’s Yuno. He doesn't actually know he has a kid until her mother gets into contact with him, saying her daughter wants to meet her biological dad can she please come and see him. Kazui has an existential crisis. Kazui agrees. They set up a date and he's asking his fish shop crew about what kids their age like and learning very little because he’s taken in two very weird teenagers. Muu does end up telling him about brands of makeup/clothes/perfume/etc. that girls like, which of course is all expensive and possibly designer.

So yeah Kazui and Yuno meet and she runs circles around him. She's her wonderfully sweet but cold self. They talk about his dead wife and he is dying inside. They exchange contact numbers and emails. She wants to see him again which surprises Kazui because that's Not the vibe he was getting from her.

The university students exist and they all go to the same one. For now it’s mainly Kotoko and Mahiru lesbian hours. She’s a law student, and she’s a literature student, sharing a class (maybe linguistics) and slowly becoming aware of each other’s existence. Mahiru likes girls but she doesn’t know it yet. Mahiru sits on campus and does a bit of people watching, writing stories inspired by what she sees - and maybe one day she sees Kotoko doing her vigilante shenanigans and falls a little bit in love. Kotoko is oblivious to this (is what she tells herself). They end up working on a class project together and become weird friends. 

Kotoko is very much doing her side gig of apprehending criminals and punching the daylights out of them. No deaths... yet. She wants to improve her technique so starts going to the martial arts night classes run by Kazui. Mahiru eventually ropes into watching one time so she can make notes for action scenes she wants to write. She also ends up joining. It's fun!

Haruka also learns some martial arts with Kazui, having one to one sessions before classes start. It’s good for him, to get his pent up anger out in a non-destructive way, to redirect all that energy somewhere. He’s scarily good. This results in him building the courage somewhere down the line to join in on the actual classes, at least every now and then. He and Kotoko spar and it impresses her just a teeeeeny tiny bit.

[catgirl-kaiju]

How is tme/tma more inclusive than afab/amab? They both equate something to a binary that makes an assumption about someone’s genitalia. In a personal level, I dislike either set of labels, which makes it hard for me to see how one is more inclusive. I have Klinefelter syndrome and consider myself leaning toward a more feminine nonbinary identity. But because of living circumstances, I can’t change anything about my presentation. This to me makes it seem like I’d be labeled as tme and amab under those labeling systems because I’m not in a position where people clock me as trans fem. I have been mistaken as trans masc a couple times because of my gynecomastia, but im not. This is just a personal opinion but the labeling systems seem reductive to me and don’t seem to do much good. Not to mention how many times I’ve seen labels used to drive a wedge between the trans community. Not trying to be rude here, I am genuinely curious as to why you think the one set is more inclusive than the other? Sorry for this chunk of text, have a good day or night

-Dee

hi there, Dee

you're welcome to disagree with me, but here's my thoughts:

firstly, the agab model is still a pretty decent way of talking about trans identities, but it certainly has some problems for intersex folks. overtly, there's nothing actually tying amab or afab labels to genitals as we're just talking about the arbitrary gender label some doctor slapped on you at birth. and the ways that your experiences were shaped by that labeling are important in discussing the dynamics of gender even in the realm of cisgender people. i'm intersex, but i'm also amab. my body was close enough to the arbitrary grouping of "male" when i was born that some doctor saw fit to assign that label to me. the reality is that people are expected to fit in one of two boxes and if your body deviates from that, usually doctors will try and squeeze you into the box that's "closest enough" in hopes that you'll eventually fit in there.

however, since all of us have grown up in a society where intersex people are stigmatized and the perisex sex binary is normalized, the terms "female" and "male" are pretty loaded and carry a lot of assumptions about people's bodies. someone who is afab wasn't necessarily born with a uterus, and someone who is amab might not at all resemble a "male" as an adult. the complexities of biological sex therefore make the agab model useful in some contexts, but not in others. it can be useful when talking about gender, but it is less useful when talking about biology.

and here's the thing about tma/tme: it's not at all about your genitals in any way. it's barely even about your body. i really don't understand where this notion that tme/tma are "just another binary grouping based on genitalia" comes from, as there's nothing in the language to indicate that. all the tme/tma system is meant to describe is whether you are affected by transmisogyny or not. that's it. you can absolutely make an argument that some people might be affected by transmisogyny more, or less, or in different ways, or in some contexts but not others. but none of that has anything to do with genitals. i have seen no convincing argument that these labels reinforce sex binaries or gender binaries, as these are labels intended purely for the purposes of discussing the dynamics of transmisogyny and how different groups of people are and aren't affected by it.

like the only thing we're talking abt here is if your experiences are in any way affected by transmisogyny or not. that's it. what exactly does that have to do with what genitals someone has or was born with??? i'm intersex, i have a micropenis and have since birth, and i think you'd be fighting an uphill battle to try and argue that i am not affected by transmisogyny. if you want to critique the system's utility in discussing transmisogyny, i'm perfectly willing to engage with you on that. if you're arguing that whether or not someone is tme or tma is sometimes contextual, i'm totally willing to hear you out. if you want to talk about the possibility of an afab intersex person being tma, we can talk about that. but trying to claim that tme and tma are just a reproduction of the binary sex and/or binary gender paradigms is just not backed up by anything, imo.

i hope you're also having a good day or night, genuinely. i don't want you to think i have anything against you personally, but it's also very important to me to voice my honest disagreement here.