#RAC-US Question And Answers

[mediocre-shark-tales]

US Texas GP

Masterlist

Walking into the paddock at the Circuit of the Americas for the first time as a driver at my home Grand Prix was nothing short of surreal. The hum of the crowd, the familiar twang of American accents, and the sea of red, white, and blue paraphernalia felt different—this wasn’t just any race. This was my race.

Billboards and posters with my face adorned the venue, some with bold captions like “Homegrown Talent” or “The Lone Star of Formula 1.” I couldn’t help but smile as fans called out my name, waving signs and flags in support. For all the challenges I’d faced this season, this moment made it worth it.

I’d spent weeks planning my outfit for this race, knowing it would be scrutinized and remembered. I wanted something that paid homage to my American roots but also represented me—a mix of boldness, resilience, and a little flair.

The first piece I chose was the hat: a sharp, black Western hat with a silver band that caught the light with every step I took. Centered on the band was a bull head emblem, strong and unmistakably Texan.

Underneath, I kept it simple with a crisp white shirt, its fabric soft and well-worn, tucked neatly into high-waisted dark denim. The belt was a statement piece—a leather strap with an ornate rodeo buckle that glinted as I moved. Draped over my shoulders was a suede jacket with fringe, its design both practical and eye-catching.

The boots were my favorite part. Worn-in leather, scuffed just enough to show their authenticity, they echoed the long road I’d traveled to get here. And the lasso? A playful touch, slung over one shoulder, reminding everyone that I was here to rope in the competition.

The outfit wasn’t just clothing—it was a statement. It said, This is who I am. Take it or leave it.

As I walked through the paddock, I felt the energy shift. Journalists turned their heads, cameras clicked furiously, and fans cheered louder.

“She’s gone full Texan!” someone shouted, eliciting laughter and applause.

Franco was the first to greet me, his grin as wide as ever. “Hermosa, you’re stealing the show already. Lando’s going to be jealous.”

Lando appeared not far behind, dramatically placing a hand over his heart. “You’ve outdone us all. I should’ve worn a cowboy hat.”

“You couldn’t pull it off,” I teased, adjusting the brim of mine.

“True,” he admitted, with a playful shrug.

As part of the home race experience, my media duties were doubled, if not tripled. I made my way to the press conference room, where a mix of local and international journalists eagerly awaited.

The questions were predictable at first:

“What does it mean to race at your home Grand Prix?” “How do you feel about the fan support here in the U.S.?”

I answered them all with the same passion I’d carried all week. “It’s incredible to see the support from my fellow Americans. Racing here is a dream come true, and I want to make everyone proud.”

But then, as always, the conversation shifted.

“Your outfit today—does it symbolize anything about your journey?”

I smiled, tipping the brim of my hat slightly. “It’s a nod to where I come from. I wanted to bring a little piece of home to the paddock, and, well, I think it worked.”

Another journalist asked, “With all the pressure of a home race, how do you plan to stay focused?”

I paused thoughtfully before answering. “Every race has pressure, but this one is special. I’m not just racing for myself—I’m racing for everyone out there who’s ever been told they couldn’t do something. That’s the focus.”

As the day wore on, I walked the grid with my team, taking in the sights and sounds of the track. The familiar roar of engines echoed in the background, and the smell of rubber on asphalt filled the air.

Fans leaned over barriers, waving hats and flags. Some called out personal messages—encouragement, gratitude, even a few heartfelt wishes of luck.

One little girl, no older than six, caught my eye. She was wearing a tiny cowboy hat and holding a handmade sign that read, “Girls can race too!”

I walked over, crouching to her level. “You’re absolutely right,” I said, signing the brim of her hat. “And one day, I’ll be watching you out here.”

Her eyes lit up, and her parents thanked me profusely. It was a small moment, but it reminded me why I fought so hard to be here.

By the time I returned to my motorhome, the sun was setting, casting a warm orange glow over the paddock. I took a moment to stand on the balcony, looking out at the track. Tomorrow, the real work would begin—practice sessions, debriefs, and the constant grind of preparation.

But for now, I allowed myself a moment to soak it all in. This was my home race, and I was ready to give it everything I had.

The atmosphere in the garage buzzed with energy as I stepped in, already suited up for FP1. It was my only practice session before heading into a jam-packed sprint weekend schedule. With just one hour to learn the track and figure out how the car would handle here in Texas, there was no room for error. Every lap counted.

The familiar weight of my regular helmet rested in my hands as I made my way to my car. This one wasn’t flashy, but it was comfortable—a trusted companion that had been with me all season. I planned to save the special designs for later, where they’d make the biggest impact.

My team had worked closely with me to craft two helmets that truly represented what this weekend meant to me.

For the sprint race, I wanted something bold—something that screamed America without apology. The design featured an angry eagle, its wings stretched wide as it tore through the imagined sound barrier, painted to resemble the American flag. The sunset hues blended seamlessly with the imagery, creating a helmet that felt larger than life.

On the top sat a reimagined Route 66 sign, reshaped into my race number, 66. It wasn’t just a nod to my roots, but a symbol of the journey I’d taken to get here.

The race helmet, however, held an entirely different meaning. It was a replica of Logan Sargeant’s design. Though I didn’t know Logan personally, I respected his journey and the fact that he, too, had carried the weight of representing America on the grid.

We made only subtle changes: swapping out his name and number for mine, adjusting the sponsors to reflect my team, and making sure the craftsmanship was impeccable. I’d asked for it to remain a complete surprise, something for the fans and paddock alike to discover only once I stepped out onto the track.

Sliding into the cockpit, I felt a familiar surge of adrenaline. The team gave me the all-clear, and I fired up the engine. The Texas heat radiated off the tarmac as I rolled out of the garage, ready to get a feel for the track.

The Circuit of the Americas was a beast of a circuit. Long straights, tricky esses, and elevation changes that could throw off anyone not paying attention. But I loved it. There was something about racing in my home country that made me want to push just a little harder, take the corners a little sharper.

FP1 was productive, though not without its challenges. The car felt decent, but there were a few areas where balance issues cropped up. I spent the session giving constant feedback, running through different setups to prepare for both the sprint and the race.

“Car feels a little light in the rear through Sector 1,” I said over the radio after my third lap. “We’ll need to stabilize it for the race pace.”

By the end of the hour, I felt confident. There were still improvements to be made, but I had a solid foundation to work from.

I returned to the garage as the session wrapped up, my mind already switching gears for the upcoming sprint qualifying. With about an hour to spare, I decided to stretch my legs and shake off the lingering tension. The Texas sun was relentless, but the walk between garages helped me cool off while keeping my muscles loose.

With my racing overalls tied around my waist and a water bottle in hand, I jogged lightly from one end of the paddock to the other, weaving through the crowd of team personnel and fans. Just as I rounded a corner, someone barreled straight into me at full speed.

The collision sent me sprawling onto the pavement. I landed hard on my backside, groaning as I caught my breath. The other person, however, was already profusely apologizing, their accent immediately familiar.

“Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going!”

I blinked, looking up into the grinning face of none other than Liam Lawson.

“Liam?” I exclaimed, my surprise quickly morphing into delight.

Liam Lawson—the guy I’d been through hell and back with during my karting days, my confidant, my pseudo-brother—stood there, a sheepish grin plastered across his face. We’d been inseparable as kids, supporting each other through the highs and lows of our careers. Even now, as we both fought tooth and nail for a permanent seat in F1, there was never an ounce of jealousy between us. Just unrelenting pride for one another.

Liam extended a hand to help me up, his laughter bubbling over as I dusted myself off. “Fancy seeing you here,” he teased.

I smirked, immediately falling into our usual rhythm of playful banter. “Look who it is—newly promoted F1 driver Liam Lawson. The same guy who conveniently forgot to tell his best friend about said promotion, so she had to hear about it through the media.”

Liam winced dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “Ouch. Straight for the heart.”

“You deserve it,” I shot back, crossing my arms but unable to hide the grin spreading across my face. “Seriously, Liam, how could you not tell me?”

He scratched the back of his neck, looking genuinely apologetic. “It all happened so fast. I was going to call, I swear, but then everything blew up, and I didn’t want to jinx it.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stay mad at him for long. This was Liam, after all—the same guy who had stayed up all night helping me perfect a karting setup before a big race and had cheered the loudest when I’d landed my reserve driver role.

“Well, I’m proud of you,” I said, pulling him into a quick hug. “Even if you’re a terrible best friend.”

“Thanks,” he said with a laugh, stepping back. “But I’m not that terrible. I brought something for you.”

He reached into his backpack and pulled out a small container. “Hannah made cookies, and she insisted I bring you some.”

I couldn’t help but grin. His girlfriend, Hannah, was amazing—kind, funny, and incredible in the kitchen. She was the one person I could see Liam settling down with, and I secretly hoped they’d make it official someday.

“You’re forgiven,” I said, grabbing the container and popping the lid open to sneak a cookie. “Barely.”

We spent the next few minutes catching up, trading stories and laughs like no time had passed. Seeing Liam here, in this moment, reminded me just how far we’d both come. The journey hadn’t been easy, but having someone like him in my corner made it all worth it.

As the clock ticked closer to sprint qualifying, I reluctantly said goodbye, knowing I had to refocus.

“Good luck out there,” Liam said, clapping me on the shoulder. “Show them why you’re a part of the future of this sport.”

“You too,” I replied with a wink. “And next time, don’t make me find out through a press release, Lawson.”

He laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “Yes Sir.”

As I jogged back toward my garage, the encounter left me feeling lighter, a renewed sense of determination coursing through me. Having Liam there was a reminder of why I loved this sport and the friendships it had given me along the way. Now, it was time to focus and make the most of my home race weekend.

The moment I strapped back into the car, all the outside noise disappeared. The roar of the crowd, the hum of conversations, even the buzz in the garage faded into the background. It was just me, the machine, and the track ahead. The familiar ritual of adjusting my gloves, checking my visor, and gripping the steering wheel calmed my nerves. I was ready.

The green light for Sprint Qualifying flicked on, and the engines roared to life. The Texas air was dry and crisp, the track shimmering under the afternoon sun. I was hyper-aware of every little detail—the vibrations under my seat, the hum of the car as I weaved through the out-lap, and the occasional crackle of my engineer's voice over the radio.

“Let’s bring it home today, 66. Focus and execute,” my race engineer, Landon, reminded me.

The first run was solid but unspectacular. My times were competitive, but not groundbreaking—hovering around P8. The team made quick adjustments to the car, tweaking the front wing and tire pressures to give me just that little bit more grip. I sat in the cockpit as the mechanics worked around me, closing my eyes and replaying the corners in my head.

Stay calm. Be smooth. Push where it counts.

The second run felt different right from the start. The track was warming up, the grip improving, and the car responding beautifully. As I hurtled down the long back straight, the roar of the home crowd grew louder. Even inside the car, I could feel the energy.

“Purple Sector 1,” Landon’s voice came through, even-toned but with a hint of excitement.

My heart raced, but I forced myself to stay focused. The esses flowed under the car like a rhythm, and I nailed the exit onto the next straight.

“Good exit,” Landon confirmed.

The car was alive under me, every input translating perfectly to the track. I pushed through Sector 2, catching a slight slide out of Turn 12 but recovering without losing much time.

“Green Sector 2. Keep it clean,” Landon instructed.

The final sector was always the trickiest, but I braked late and hard into Turn 15, carrying just enough speed without overshooting the apex. The last few corners blurred together in a haze of precision and adrenaline as I blasted toward the finish line.

As I crossed the line, I held my breath, waiting for Landon’s voice.

“You’re P4!”

For a second, I didn’t believe him. “Repeat that?”

“P4, P4! Excellent job!” Landon’s voice was louder this time, barely containing his excitement.

The realization hit me like a tidal wave. P4. My best qualifying result yet. I was on the second row of the grid, closer to a podium than I’d ever been. And in my home race, no less.

“YES!” I screamed into the radio, pounding my fists on the steering wheel. “YES, YES, YES!”

The emotions bubbled over as I slowed the car and brought it back to the garage. Pride, excitement, disbelief—it all hit me at once. My engineer’s voice was drowned out by the cheers of my team as I rolled into the pit lane. The Aston Martin Team near the entrance of Parc Fermé were alive with energy, mechanics and engineers high-fiving each other, their faces beaming with pride.

As I climbed out of the car, the roar of the American crowd greeted me. I pulled off my helmet, letting the cheers wash over me. My home race, my people, and they were celebrating with me.

Lando appeared out of nowhere, grinning ear to ear. “P4? Are you kidding me? That’s insane!”

I laughed, still trying to catch my breath. “I can’t believe it.”

“You better start believing,” he said, slinging an arm around my shoulder. “Because that was incredible.”

Franco rushed over next, practically tackling me in a hug. “That’s my girl! P4 at home? You’re a legend!”

The overwhelming support from my team, my friends, and the fans brought tears to my eyes. I wiped them away quickly, not wanting to let the moment overwhelm me too much.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice trembling with emotion as I waved to the crowd. “Thank you so much.”

As I basked in the energy of the moment, a familiar voice called out from behind me, cutting through the noise of the garage.

“Well, well, look at you!”

I turned to see Liam Lawson striding toward me, his ever-present grin plastered across his face. Right beside him was his girlfriend, Hannah, looking just as thrilled. Liam wasted no time, wrapping me in a bear hug that nearly lifted me off the ground.

“P4!” he exclaimed, shaking me slightly. “In your home race! That’s huge!”

I laughed, squeezing him back. “I know! I still can’t believe it.”

Hannah stepped forward as Liam let go, her expression warm. “We’re so proud of you,” she said, pulling me into a gentler hug. “You’ve worked so hard for this, and it’s amazing to see it paying off.”

“Thank you,” I said, my voice cracking slightly as the emotions started to creep in again.

Liam ruffled my hair playfully. “Not gonna lie, I’m a little jealous. But seriously, this is your moment, and no one deserves it more. You’ve proven all those doubters wrong today.”

“Thanks, Liam,” I said, grinning. “Now you just have to catch up and get P4 for yourself.”

“Oh, I will,” he shot back with a wink. “But don’t think I won’t brag about this for you in the meantime.”

Hannah chuckled, giving me an encouraging pat on the shoulder. “Just soak it all in. You’ve earned it.”

As they stepped back to let me continue celebrating with my team, I watched them go with a full heart. Liam and Hannah had been constants in my life for years, and having their support on a day like this meant the world.

With their words still echoing in my mind, I turned back toward the garage, taking in the scene around me. Mechanics and engineers buzzing with excitement, Lando and Franco trading jokes, the hum of the crowd still faintly audible in the background—it was all so surreal.

For the first time, I felt like I truly belonged here. This wasn’t just about making a mark in F1 anymore—it was about showing the world, my team, and myself what I was capable of.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the garage buzzed with post-qualifying excitement, I let myself savor the moment. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but tonight, I was living my dream.

[sweetnsour1]

11:15

Fluff, Bakugou x g/n reader

“This is dumb.” 

“It’s not dumb. It’s math.”  

“But it’s not fuckin’ math.” 

“Ugh, it’s an expression.” 

“How is math an expression?” 

“Oh my god...it just means it adds up, grandpa.” 

“Still doesn’t make any fuckin’ sense.” 

“Yes, it does. Here, we’ll try another one. Todoroki.” 

“IcyHot?” 

“No, Fuyumi. Obviously Shoto.” Your head jostled as a pillow thudded against your face before returning to the lap it had flown from. “Hey!” The blonde was nearly pouting.

“Don’t call him that.” 

“You started it. Anyways...our Todoroki.” Your eye roll was interrupted as you dodged his second attack. This time you tugged the pillow into your own lap before he could reclaim it.

“Don’t call him that either.” 

“Oh my god, just answer.”

“Man written by a man.” 

“Noooo.” You kept one hand gripped into the pillow while the other massaged at your temple. “No, you’re still not getting it at all.” 

“His dad was the one who raised him though.” 

“Hardly-” the word combined with your scoff, “-and that’s not the point. He’s man written by a woman for sure. Especially after his character growth back in year one.” 

“The fuck? Like what?” 

“He listens, he’s supportive, he’s thoughtful, he is always trying to learn how to communicate better, works hard to strengthen the relationships around him, he-” 

“Okay, I get it! Damn!” You didn’t reply, giving him a moment to collect whatever festering thoughts he seemed to be sorting through. You waited patiently for him to choose one to give shape to. He shaped it into a grumble. “...so what am I?” 

“You? Hmmm.” You put effort into looking thoughtful.

“Man written by a man?” 

“No?” He looked relieved, but unsure. Perfect. His loss of cushioned weaponry made you brave enough to continue. “You’re more like a feral raccoon written by a-“ He lunged. “Hey!” You shifted the pillow behind your back, pressing your body against it. You realized a little too late that obviously left one thing for him to go for...you. He had you pinned between those massive arms. Your smile was instant.

“I’ll show you fuckin’ feral, brat.”  

“Okay, so now you’re a man written by a woman.” 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” 

“Several things, which is probably why I’m interested in feral rac-” 

“Shut up.” 

“Yessir.” You saluted as much as you could with the space you were given. He let his arms buckle, falling forward and knocking the wind out of you a bit. He laughed or huffed into your neck. Either way he was at your shoulder, shaking his head before he kissed your cheek.  

“Thought you were gonna’ show me feral?” 

“Mmmm, later.” He continued, answering the question you hadn’t asked yet. “You calmed me down.”  

“Oh.” You ran your fingers through his hair. You could feel and hear his hum at the action.  

“Keep talkin’.” 

“You told me to shut up.” He nuzzled further into your hair as you pulled his. 

“Didn’t mean it.” You scratched at his scalp again before sliding down to his neck and shoulders. “Wanna’ hear ya.” He was whining. 

“Always so bossy.” You laughed as he dug a knuckle into your rib. “I didn’t say no.” He seemed satisfied as he settled himself further. Before you could complain about the weight, he shifted, turning into half big spoon/half weighted blanket. 

“So my favorite things about raccoons...” He pawed at your face with one hand, attempting to hide his laughter somewhere to your left. “You’re exactly right. Let’s start with their hands and how they use them.” 

He loves nerds.

Masterlist

[personwhowrites]

Unforgettable wedding

Platonic TF 141, Simon Ghost Riley x f!reader (18+)

Wc: 6.1k

Cw: Drinking, fingering,vagial sex, unprotected sex, sex in car, slightly possessive Ghost?Teasing, strong language, No use of y/n

Nicknames given: Princess, Doll, Good girl, Baby

Summary: A high school friend (Rachel) invited you to a wedding, you declared you had a lover but actually didn’t. You asked Soap, Gaz and Price to be your fake boyfriend for the wedding. Price agreed after some talking, but canceled due to an emergency. Leaving you to answer questions and peer pressure from friends. Until.. Ghost shows up, pretending to be your boyfriend. Things go okay, games are played and kisses are shared. When he notices you starting to get drunk, he offers to take you home. Little did you know that ‘ride’ home would change everything that involved him..

A/N: I uh… yeah at the last part my mind went blank and uh, lost idea of what i was writing and it turned into something else.

It was a high school friend who was getting married, you kept in touch with them even if at times they were toxic towards you. They added you to a group called “invitations” announcing their wedding. You didn’t see it till two days later, you were busy on the mission that involved your whole time and attention. No one from your personal life knew what job you did, if anyone asked you would brush them off and change the subject. So it came to surprise you, Rachel had invited you to their wedding and you're just now responding.

You: I’ll see if I can make it, I need to work some stuff out first.

Rachel read your message along with other few close friends from the group. You set your phone down not expecting much as Soap approached you with a grin on his face and a can of pop in his hands.

“Las, you have any plans for the week off?” Soap asked as he took a seat next to you. “I've been thinking about visiting my family.”

“Probably nothing like always, which is fine.” You reply while soap opens the can of pop. “Are you seriously drinking that ten month soda?”

“It's called pop, and matter in fact I am.” Soap relies as he drowns the sugary drink. “You seriously don’t plan to go somewhere?”

You open your mouth to reply but your phone buzzes, which you turn over and look at the notification. It's from the ‘invitations’ group chat, it suddenly became active, you open your phone and look at the messages. Your eyes widen as you read the message to yourself, Soap notice and look over at your screen.

Rachel: That’s fine, you probably don’t even have a plus one, so you save us the food for that! I would appreciate a gift or some flowers if we ever meet up again. Xoxo

Soap tilts his head as you start to type something, someone else in the group chat sends a message. Leaving you to gasp and stopping you from sending another message.

Jason: Yeah it's fine, plus you never have time for the group anymore. Anytime that we plan something you always respond late..

You: Because I have to tend to important matters and don’t have time to be on my phone. Anyways I will come then! I will see you all there and hell I will bring my partner!

You didn’t think of the message you sent, until Soap gasps and looks at you in surprise.

“You have a lover?” Soap now asks as you quickly realize what you just sent. “I never knew that.”

“I.. didn’t either..” You mumble and set your phone down. “Shit.. oh god what did I just do.. Soap be my fake date please you're the only one that knows.”

“No can do, I already have my week planned out with my family.” Soap says before chuckling. “Good luck with that, now if you..” Soap burps and holds his stomach. “I'm going to regret drinking that pop.”

Soap gets up as your phone buzzes again, it's a message from the group chat again. This time it was multiple people typing all now excited you will be tending the wedding that was three days away. You nervously bit your lip and read the messages, everyone excited to meet this lover of yours that didn’t even exist. Rachel soon gave you the details of the location and what type of theme you could wear that is appropriate for her wedding. You thanked Rachel and soon turned your phone off and took a deep breath, now where could you find a single man that would be willing to be your pretend boyfriend.

Three hours passed and you were doing some of your daily duties where you met Gaz in the hall. He was heading to lunch alone and crossed paths with you.

“Hey, are you going to lunch yet?” Gaz asked you with a warm smile making you look up from whatever you were doing. “Price and Ghost are there.,”

“Maybe in a couple more minutes, I gotta finish..” Your reply and sigh before looking at the boxes you were carrying. “..Ah this can wait.. You know what's for lunch?”

“The same crappy food that's for sure.” Gaz chuckles as you start to walk with him. “You look uneasy..did someone say something to you?”

“Uh no..” You mumble and then get an idea. “Would you like to be my fake boyfriend for a wedding?”

Gaz stopped dead in his tracks and stared at you, thinking he misheard. You give him an awkward smile and look away now your face filled with embarrassment. Gaz remains silent, he was trying to process what you just said and making sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him.

“Did I hear you right? You want me to be your fake boyfriend at a wedding?” Gaz murmured now amused by the thought. “You should have asked me earlier before I made some plans for the week.”

“Damn you too?” You say now in some annoyance. “I asked Soap but he said he already made some plans.”

Gaz let out a small laugh before walking again, soon the two of you arrived at the mess hall. Price by then had already gotten your tray with Gaz’s knowing you would join him and Ghost. You sat down and ate, nothing too important was discussed at the table, Gaz and Price were chatting about some rookies, while Ghost leaned back in his chair and listened to them. While also looking around as if he was looking for some trouble he could stop. Gaz soon brought up what you said that made you snap back into reality.

“Wait wait, you asked Gaz to be a fake boyfriend for a wedding?” Price now asked you with an amused look. “And you also asked Soap?”

“Yeah, it's just someone's wedding from highschool.. We are a friend group..” You mumble now embarrassed by all of this. “I said that I would go since their group pointed out that I never hang out with them anymore.”

“How can you? You're working away on missions to keep their perfect lives safe, they should be grateful.” Gaz says, shaking his head for a moment. “Can’t believe people sometimes thinking its easy to be in the special british forces..”

“The thing is that they don’t know what job I have..” You admit to Gaz as he lets out a laugh. “I like to keep my work life out of my personal life.”

Ghost looks at you know, he seems to be somewhat interested in what you said, Price laughs a little as you told them. Gaz on the other hand nodded, he knew what you meant and respected it.

“Wait Price, will you be my fake boyfriend?” You ask him quickly with some hope. “Please?”

“Now I would love to help you out of the mess you're in..” Price says taking a bite out of some burger.”But, I can’t do such a thing, especially something like that.”

“But it won’t be real!” You add quickly, seeming more desperate. “Please I’ll be less reckless on missions.”

“You should always be less reckless on missions.” Price points out before letting a sigh. “But okay.”

You let out a sigh of relief and closed your eyes, your mess now being fixed by your one and only captain. Yet boy were you wrong, on the day of the wedding Price canceled on you and apologized, an emergency had come up and you were left out without a date and the wedding was going to be starting soon. You stood outside the church and groaned softly as you saw the rest of the people arrive for it. One of them being Jason from the group chat, he had a date with him and he looked at you in a polite manner.

“No date? Things sure don’t change even out of highschool.” Jason teases as he walks into the church.

You stare at him for a moment and roll your eyes before entering the church yourself. You felt some people stare at you, it was obvious word got around that you would finally show up to something. You took a seat at the last row of the chairs and remained there for the rest of the wedding, eventually clapping and cheering the bride and groom. In the corner of your eye you saw someone, a dark figure you couldn’t make out, you brush it off as a guest. People started to head to their cars, getting ready to drive to the reception a couple minutes away from the church.

You felt as if someone was watching you, just you. The feeling didn’t wear off as you started to drive to the reception. You felt a car follow you, but the tint on its widows made it impossible to see who was driving. You took a turn into the reception parking lot and parked next to some other people. The car that was following you drove off, making you feel silly for thinking someone was following you.

The reception was beautiful, the place was decorated like any bride would want their reception to be. Yet when you found your name on a table you saw it was at the end of then with an empty chair next to it, you sat down and placed your bag down on the empty seat. Some friends approached you and talked about their lives, one of them made it into the fashion industry and the other was a chef that helped prepare the food for the wedding. Then it came time for you to talk about your job and how your life was.

“Honestly I have a plain life, nothing too important.” You say as attention is on you. “Plus I'm happy you all have successful careers.”

“Yet you never speak about your life, you always keep quiet about it!” One says looking at you with a tense stare. “Are you poor?”

“No..” You say hurt by their comment. “I'm well off of money..Rebbeca..”

“What happened with the partner you had?” Rebbeca asks, pushing you into a tight corner as eyes all on you. “Or what.. Did you lie?”

You opened your mouth to speak but Rachel walked over with a bright smile. All the attention soon turned to her as she opened a chair and sat down with the groom. Showing off her ring and dress, she soon turned her attention to the empty seat.

“Oh my, did your ‘boyfriend’ not show up?” Rachel says now putting shame on you. “You could have told us you didn’t have a lover…we could have used that seat for someone else.”

You stare at her, some anger rising up, but you remain calm. Using all of your energy to not say something that could ruin anything. You cleared your throat and smiled in a polite manner.

“I don’t share anything about my personal life because of my job.” You say brushing your hands against the table. “Being in The special Reconnaissance Regiment is hard to maintain a love life.”

Silence fills the table, no one saw you as some person to work for the army or any job like that. Racheled opened her mouth to speak but Rebbecaa spoke before her.

“You're in the army? I never took you to be one in that type of work” Rebecca mumbles before turning her full attention to you. “Have you.. Killed people?”

“Private information I cannot share for your safety and mine.” You reply feeling some weight for your shoulders to be lifted. “Now I would appreciate it if we just moved on.”

“You always were one to pull twists on us..” Jason spoke and looked at you with a slight grin. “That’s good, honestly I always thought you would join the military but didn’t know what branch..”

You shook his comment off and made sure Rachel had the attention again. It was her wedding after all. The dance soon started for the bride and her parents. You stood by and reached for your bag, maybe thinking its best to leave. You weren’t having fun, and some of your friends wouldn’t leave the topic about your job. Soon someone else walked into the party, they seemed out of place for a moment then their eyes landed on you immediately. Your eyes widened as you saw who it was. Ghost.

He walked past some people who stared at him, he wasn’t wearing his regular ‘creepy’ balaclava but a more normal one. It covered his nose and down. No work uniform was on , but a simple light button up shirt and some pants from a tux, that obviously matched him well. His dirty blonde hair was neatly fixed into a stylish slit back hair style, which you never expected him to have. The tattoos on his forearm were on full display as he finally grabbed your bag and set in on your lap. He took the seat next to you and sigh annoyed..

“Don’t question it..” Ghost mumbled as he leaned back and whispered in your ear. “Be grateful I even considered such a thing..”

“How did you even know where the reception would be held?” You ask as Ghost lets out an annoyed sigh. “I only sent that information to Price..”

“You just answered your own question,” Ghost says bluntly as he looks around. “So much damn white..Jesus I might go blind from it all.”

“You handle flashbangs for a living..” You tease Ghost who immediately gives you a glare. “Sorry, I thought it would be funny.”

“What happens when a strawberry gets run over while crossing the street?” Ghost says leaning closer to you. “Hm?”

“Uh..i don’t know what happens?” You reply slightly amused by this behavior.

“Traffic Jam.” Ghost replies and chuckles to himself. “Another?”

You hold back a laugh, knowing it wasn't funny yet the way his voice makes the joke sound is better. Ghost pulls your chair closer so you can hear his terrible dad jokes better.

“What do you call a pony with a sore throat?” Ghost hums into your ear while you hold a smile back from your lips. “A little hoarse..”

You can’t help it but let a chuckle escape your lips. Ghost soon leans away from you and sits up in the chair. He looks around the party and rubs his eyes slightly showing he is annoyed by all of the lights. You look at Ghost, it was strange seeing him like this. No mask nor face paint made it feel like you walked into another universe. Which at this point you might have now noticed that he was the one that asked Price for the address to see you and help.

“Thanks..” You mumble to him enough to hear. “You really didn’t have to..”

Ghost looks at you, he seems to have something on his mind. His mask moves as he is about to speak, yet the sound of the bride and groom stop him. You turn your attention to the center of the place and listen as the bride is going to cut the cake and food will be served soon.

The rest of the night some of your friends ask you about Ghost but you say nothing. Avoiding their questions and Ghost doing the same, if he did want you to answer a question about him, he would shoot you a glance or nudge your chair. The night went on, Ghost cracked some more ‘jokes’ that made you smile or even get a chuckle out.His arm is soon wrapped around your shoulders. You didn’t mind it and soon rested your head on his arm, things were okay.

“Are you comfortable..”Ghost questions while keeping his eyes away from you. “Aren’t you?”

“I can move away..” You reply and look at him anxiously.

“It's fine..” Ghost replies and looks away from you. “Can’t believe you’re social enough for this kind of stuff.”

“I honestly never come to stuff like this..I'm always lonely.” You murmur as Ghost turns his attention to you.

“Not this time..”Ghost says, sitting up a bit, he places his hand on your face. “You had some sauce on our lips.”

You stare at Ghost as he wipes the sauce away and leaves his thumb on your lips. He's gaze now on your lips, you feel your face heat up. Ghost gently rubs his thumb on your lips then moves it down to your chin, he makes you look slightly up at him. Ghost hazel eyes stare into your own eyes, a thick tension grows. He moved his thumb back onto your lips, gently giving them a brush. Somehow the world around the two of you slowed down, nothing matters anymore..

“..I never noticed.. How beautiful you are up close..” Ghost mumbles as his arm around your shoulders pulls you closer to him. “A sight for my sore eyes..”

Ghost moves his arm away from your shoulders and brings his hand to his mask. A loud sound makes both of you jump and turn away from each other. His hand on your face moving away to his side, the bride had grabbed a microphone and was trying to turn it on.

“Alright ladies and gentlemen! Let's get these games started!” Rachel says with a happy look on her face. “Please bring your chairs and yourself to the center!”

People around you and Ghost started to move themselves and their chairs. You stare at everyone, most of everyone that was at the table left. You then turned your attention back to ghost, who didn’t even seem interested in the game. Rachel noticed you weren’t there and walked over, she grabbed your hand and smiled before speaking.

“Come on! Join us like the good old times!” Rachel says getting people to look over. “Like the good old days, you used to love musical chairs so much as kids.”

You looked around and noticed some people looking over, peer pressure got the best of you and you nodded. Ghost looked at you, there was a hit of worry and annoyance in his eyes. He stood up with you and grabbed your hand, Rachel looked at Ghost, slightly taken back by the sight of him. Rachel soon walked to the center with you and Ghost along with the chairs. It was a regular game of musical chairs, no rules except no harming each other badly. You placed your chair down in the circle, soon the music started and everyone started to move around in a circle. Ghost didn’t even know why on earth he decided to join such a ‘childish game.’ The music stopped and chaos broke, you sat down quickly in a chair as Ghost and a couple others did the same, while two people fought for a chair. One finally sat down and soon the game continued..

Ghost got out the twelve round, he didn’t like walking and too many eyes were on him. He took his chair back to the table and watched as you went against eight people. The number lowered quickly to the point it was only you and some other girl left. Both of you were focused, none wanted to lose or make a fool out of yourselves. The Dj speed up the music and you started to feel your body tense, the music stopped, without a thought you kicked the chair away and the girl fell down before she could sit down. People started to laugh and you picked up the knocked down chair, Ghost slightly was somewhat amused by the sight. The other girl tried to snatch the chair out of your hands but it was all a fail as your grip was strong.

You spun around the girl and placed the chair down, the girl did the same thing as you. She kicks the chair down and you let out an annoyed groan. She grabs the chair with a wide grin and sets the chair down. This could all be over if it wasn't for your need to win no matter what. You kicked the chair down quickly, almost hitting the other girl. She gasped as if in the blink of an eye you picked the chair up and ran to the center sitting down in it.

People cheered and Ghost looked at you with amusement, You soon walked back with the chair and smiled happily. Ghost shook his head trying to shake the look of amusement off, you hugged him without thinking…He hugs you back, a tight embrace happens as the two of you hug each other. You notice your mistake and pull away immediately.

“Oh god, I'm so sorry..I was just so excited..” You say quickly as Ghost pulls you back into a hug. “Ghost?”

Ghost closes his eyes and keeps holding you close, you could swear his breathing get heavier as he held you closer. His cologne filling your nose, Ghost held you close for a period of time. You soon embraced him as well and kept hugging him.

“..Never let go..” Ghost mumbles in your ear, his voice slightly breaking. “Please..”

‘Please’ that word sounded so heartbreaking out of his lips. You just nodded and he let go of you, that was the first time Ghost has ever done that with you. He sat down and pretended like nothing happened and he expected you to do the same.

The rest of the games continued, you would join but not most of them since your feet were tired. Ghost kept you close to him, awfully close. If any of your guy friends approached the two of you, his grip would become tighter on you. The games went on for another hour, soon the bride Rachel announced she would be throwing her bouquet soon.

“You’d think that..You could get the bouquet as well?” Ghost asks, looking at you, before looking at some girls in the center. “If you stand in the back the odds of you getting it are twenty out of hundred.”

“I don’t like the whole bouquet stuff, Rachel would make the girl kiss their partner if they got it.” You reply looking over to the other females. “Plus, I think I won enough games already.”

“Wouldn’t hurt to just have a good time.” Ghost adds looking at you now which you don’t notice. “Who knows if we'll ever be alive to see another wedding..”

You think for a moment then nod, standing up from your seat you walk over to the back. The bride calls out more females to the floor making sure it's even for all the females. The groom gets a chair and Rachel gets on it, she turns her back to the others on the dance floor, people start counting down for her to throw the bouquet. Rachel throws it a three and it hits a fan on the ceiling, which bounces the bouquet and it hits you right in the face. People laugh and cheer as you now hold the bouquet, Ghost eyes widen as he didn’t even expect that himself to happen out of all the possibilities.

“Kiss your partner now!” Rachel says with a smile as she walks over and drags you to Ghost. “Kiss kiss!”

“Rachel, please no lets just move on to the res–” You try to say, but Ghost grabs your waist turning you to him. “Wai–”

Ghost takes his mask down and plants a sloppy kiss on your lips. He holds your hips, making sure he can hold you correctly. You lean into the kiss and start to close your eyes. It seemed like Ghost wanted to do it for a long time. Ghost breaks the kiss and pulls his mask back and places his hand on your face. He gives you a wink before creasing your cheek with his thumb. Rachel soon walks away leaving you to stare at Ghost in shock.

“I can’t be arsed to care about what you’re thinking..” Ghost mumbles before taking his seat again. “It's all pretend.”

You look at him still in shock and turn away, soon enough you found yourself drinking some fine wine being offered around. Ghost on the other hand remained sober, unwilling to talk to any other female that approached him. His eyes on you as you chugged down wine, there was a time he got worried as people cheered you on to keep drinking. You knew how to handle your liquor, but Ghost didn’t know that. You look at Ghost and give him a drunken smile, yet his eyes narrow seeing that you're drunk down.

“That’s enough drinking now.” Ghost mumbles taking the glass of wine out of your hand. “Do you hear me?”

“I'm fine, Ghost. I can't get drunk so easily with wine.” You say looking at him hoping he would give back the wine glass. “Can I have it back?”

“No, that's enough wine for you today..” Ghost says and sets your glass on the table. “If you keep drinking or try to drink again I will get up and leave.”

You stare at Ghost and soon take your own seat, You lean against his arm and sigh. Maybe you had been drinking too much, maybe the wine was too much for you. Ghost turned his attention to you, pulled you closer to him, almost as if he wanted you on his lap. You nuzzled your face against his arm and closed your eyes, you were starting to blackout..

“You okay..?” Ghost asked with high concred in his voice. “You need to head home?”

“Probably..” You mumble before looking at him. “I might have drank too much today..”

Ghost sighs and helps you stand up, he grabs your bag and starts to walk out with you. Rachel noticed and walked over with the groom, they called out for you and Ghost. He hesitated to stop but did since they were your friends. Rachel and her husband Aaron look at you and then at Ghost.

“You two leaving?” Rachel asks slightly hurt by this. “It's only twelve in the morning”

“She had too much to drink and wanted to go home.” Ghost says looking at Rachel, slight haterade he didn’t like her at all. “If you care about her, you wouldn’t have to come and question why she is leaving early.”

“Easy now, we don’t need an aggressive tone here.” Aaron speaks up trying to make things settle. “We are in the wrong for cheering them on..”

Ghost starts to walk away with you, he makes sure you can lean on him as you two walk. He knew where your car was parked, the exact spot without even checking. You looked at Ghost a little concerned as to how he knew where your car was parked. He takes the keys out of your bag and looks at you.

“I'll drive you home then get an uber back here to drive my own car.” Ghost says and opens the passenger door. “Come on..”

You stare at him for a moment and get in your own car. Ghost closes the door and walks to the other side, he opens the door to the driver side, he sits down then adjusts the seat. Ghost looks over at you for a moment and pulls his mask off completely. Then grabs your head gently with the palm of his hand on the back of your head. He leans in and kisses you, the kiss was less sloppy than before. Ghost gently grabs a fist full of your hair and pulls you closer, he can’t get enough of your lips.

Ghost moves his other hand to your neck, you look at him as he leans in for another kiss. Your lips crash against his, he groans in the kiss. The hand on your neck gives you a gentle squeeze. Ghost hand on your hair moves to your back, he bushes the straps of your dress and looks at you with desire.

“Are you okay with this doll?” Ghost asks, looking at you. “Do you like me kissing you?”

Ghost looks at you and smiles, it is odd but yet comforting. You meet in his gaze and place your hands on his cheeks.The palm of your hands brush against his stubble, he leans close to you. Another kiss is shared between the two of you, Ghost wraps his arm around your waist. Pulling you closer to him, he lets go of your neck, placing his hand on your thigh, rubbing gentle circles on your skin. Without a thought he kisses your neck as you let go of his face, you toge on his shirt and bite your lip.

“Use your words..” Ghost says giving your thigh a gentle squeeze. “Come on..”

“I want this Ghost..” You reply as he places his hand on your chin. “Don’t.. Make me beg..”

“You’re drunk.. If you were sober maybe I would go further with you princess..” Ghost mumbled before turning his attention to the steering wheel. “Let’s get you home.”

You stare at Ghost feeling disappointed, but understand that he wanted to keep his desires in check. Ghost pulled out of the parking lot and headed into the road, once in a while he would look over at your body. How it bounced to each bump on the road, his desires and mind started to wonder as the straps on your dress slid off your shoulders. Ghost stops the car by a park nearby and turns the car off, he couldn’t hold back anymore. He turns his attention to you and your neck. Pulling you close, Ghost leans his face to your neck..

“You drive me crazy, a crazy I can't hide anymore…” Ghost murmurs before kissing your neck. “Do you want this doll? Do you want me to take you here and now..?”

You let out a soft moan and nod, Ghost wastes no time helping you get on his lap, he leans the seat back. You hear him undo his buckle of his pants, he was wasting no time to take you. To give you the pleasure you two desire in such close space. You kiss Ghost and watch as he moves his hand to your inner thighs, he gives them a gentle squeeze. He slides his fingers against your clit, shivers go down your spine.

“Look at you.. Already wet, partially dripping onto my fingers.” Ghost teases and rubs circles on your clit. “Think you can take me baby? Think you can take me like the good girl you are..”

A whimper escapes your mouth and you look down at Ghost. Who’s admiring the faces you make to his touch, the sweet sounds you give him. Ghost soon removes his hand away from your pussy and licks his finger, you blush to his action.

“Why would you do that..” You mumble in slight embarrassment. “Gh–”

“It's Simon to you princess..” Ghost says inserting two fingers into your pussy without a warning.

You arch your back and let out a loud moan, he didn’t give you any warning. Slowly he fingered you, enjoying watching you come undone to just his fingers. Ghost moved at a slow pace, wanting to savor every second of your reaction. Your hips soon started to move on their own, your body wanting more of his finger. Ghost pulls them out and looks at you while you let out a small whimper. Ghost chuckles and moves his throbbing cock close to your pussy.

“Patience, pretty girl. Patience..” Ghost mumbles and looks at you. “You think that you can handle it?”

You give an quick nod and try to place your body on his cock, but Ghost stops you and rubs your hips. He knew you wanted as much as he did, but he wanted to make sure you could take him. Ghost brushed his hands on your hips and bit his lip, he wanted to just ruin you and keep you close to him.

“Gh–Simon.. Please..” You beg now looking down at him. “Please.. I can’t keep waiting..”

You start to beg him, he loves the sight of you begging, the sound of your whimpers wanting your own hips to be placed on his. Ghost without warning drops your body on to his cock, he lets out a satisfied groan as you let out a small cry. You have taken every single inch of him, Ghost rubs your hips again letting you adjust to him. Some tears escape your eyes and you hold onto the handle off the door. Ghost shifts on the car seat and lets out a groan as take more of him in.

“Bloody hell..you're so perfect.. So bloody perfect for me..” Ghost moans out and closes his eyes. “Perfectly made for me baby..” He pauses for a moment and digs his fingers on the side of your hips. “Think you can move a baby girl, think you can move this beautiful body of yours?”

You give him a gentle nod and slowly bounce on his cock. Ghost groans as he squeezes his eyes shut, he lets go of your hips and places his hands on your thighs. Giving them a good squeeze, you can’t help but moan his name as your hips move.

“That’s it princess that's it..” Ghost murmurs while giving your thighs another squeeze. “ Use my cock to satisfy this pussy of yours.”

Ghost was completely pussy drunk, mumbling things as you bounced on his cock. Ghost opened his eyes soon enough to catch a glimpse of your face, how you particularly looked at him. Ghost moves his hands back to your waist, he adjusts himself and thrust into you. You let out a moan, Ghost started to move himself as you arched your back trembling as you were on your high with him, Your eyes rolled back and your moans were music to his ears.

“Cum for me baby, cum for me..”Ghost says, thrusting his cock recklessly into you. “That’s it, love.. Bloody hell..that's it clinching that pussy around my cock.”

Without another word you moan loudly and let your body fall on him, You had reached your orgasm. Ghost wasn't so far behind, he pulled out and came on your ass, he groaned and soon wrapped his arms around you. He took steady breaths and brushed his hand on your hair. Gently patting your back with his other hand.

“You did so good for me doll.. So good..” Ghost murmurs into your ear and holds you close. “Breath..”

“I.. love you..” You reply without thinking. “I really..love you..”

Ghost looked at you and then sigh softly before kissing your head. He holds you close but says nothing. The both of you stay like that for a couple minutes, crickets and sounds of nature lay on your ears as finally Ghost speaks.

“I love you too..” Ghost mumbles creasing your face, before kissing your cheek. “We still need to get you home.”

You nodded and lifted yourself off of Ghost. You sat back in the passenger seat and watched as Ghost buckled his pants up again, you in the meantime fixed your panties. He started the car and got out of the parking lot of the park. Ghost glanced over at you while he drove. Things were definitely never gonna be the same between him and you, Ghost knew that like you did. He placed his hand on your thigh and gave it a gentle squeeze. You looked at Ghost, as he drove your car, the car you had your first time with Ghost, so many thoughts and so many questions but what did that matter now? This wedding was definitely going to be an unforgettable one.

[scarlet--wiccan]

Hello! I wanted to ask a potentially hardish question. How do you feel about non-Romani engaging with Tarot, doing paid reads, and such? Do you think it's okay for everyone to partake in it? Would you at least want people to be more informed of its origins?

My general attitude, when it comes to anything related to magic, fortunetelling, etc, is that we should be focusing more on cultural restitution and historical authenticity than trying to make a list of who can do what. When it comes to tarot, there's a lot to learn, and a lot to unpack in both of those areas. The short answer is that I don't believe that tarot is, or should be, a closed practice. There is, however, is a deep legacy of racism in the evolution of tarot as a fixture of mainstream culture, and the fortunetelling industry is rife with Romani exploitation. I believe that understanding this, and integrating it into your actions and conduct, is key to developing an ethically and spiritually holistic practice. And I think that applies to all forms of magic and spirituality-- racism and colonialism are very common in magical spaces where historical understanding is not encouraged.

If this is something you'd like to learn more about, I would highly encourage you to pre-order Secrets of Romani Fortuntelling, which is an upcoming book written by my friend Jezmina von Thiele and their Romanistan cohost, Paulina Stevens. Preorders make a huge difference for small publishers and new authors.This book is an authentic new look at fortunetelling practices in Romani culture and I, personally, think everybody who reads tarot needs to buy a copy.

If you'd like to receive a reading from a Romani practictioner, I am running a donation drive for Palestinian families and offering online tarot readings with personalized writeups and graphics as rewards.

My understanding is that tarot, and cartomancy in general, are closely tied to Romani culture and history because they were trades that Romani families developed and practiced as a form of survival work*. The same is true for several other types of fortunetelling and folk magic practices. There is an element of cultural preservation and ancestral custom in a lot of these skills, but ultimately, this is something that was meant to be shared with non-Roma, so it's not a closed practice, in that regard. And it's worth mentioning, of course, that many of these skills and devices were adapted from existing aspects of Western culture. The original tarot deck was, after all, just a set of European playing cards.

Over the centuries, tarot has really taken on a life of its own outside of Romani society, as both a popular practice and object of cultural fascination. There are other cultures who practice divination and fortunetelling for very similar reasons, and because tarot is so universally known, it's become a tool that is shared by many, and I think it informs the way folks approach cartomancy even when they're using other devices. And I think that's really beautiful! Unfortunately, there is also a more painful part of this history that also needs to be acknowledged.

Most modern tarot decks, and much of the basis for how we read them, are the products of 19th & 20th century occult and esoteric movements in the West, which often held an Orientalist fixation on Romani, Jewish, Middle Eastern and East Asian cultures. When you look at the works of Levi, Crowley, Waite, and so forth, you'll find a lot of fabricated histories and colonial fantasies about these cultures, and that informed the symbology with which they designed the formative modern decks we know today as the Thoth and Waite-Smith tarot. In my opinion, Jewish and Romani peoples were the most heavily exploited by this movement. It just goes to show how deeply our histories a diasporic people are connected.

Here in America, many states have legislation intended to police or even outlaw the fortunetelling trade, and you will often find that these laws are based in anti-Romani racism. Furthermore police are known to profile Romani citizens and families as scammers, and a lot of the language used to describe these "scams" in both police documents and the media employs racist language and stereotypes. Despite this, non-Roma, particularly white people, are often able to turn fortunetelling into a lucrative business by using their privilege to safely navigate the legal system's impositions-- and many of these white people love nothing more than to dress up in an approximation of Romani costume in order to give themselves an exotic, mystical air-- just like Levi and Crowley before them.

So, it's my opinion that the modern fortunetelling industry and the last several generations of tarot knowledge were built, both directly and indirectly on Romani oppression. People need to understand this history, and their place in it, in order to understand how they, personally, have arrived at their own relationship with tarot. Once you do understand that, you can begin to incorporate anti-racist intention and action into your practice. If you want suggestions, providing historical acknowledgement and Romani resources to your clients is a great place to start. Being an ally and being in community with us in our fight for human rights is even better. If you own a business or a shop, you can divest yourself from problematic suppliers, or learn how to identify racist books and decks, and stop selling them. Make sure you're not exploiting or perpetuating Romani stereotypes and call other people out on it, too. And if it's possible, really reevaluate the way you have arrived at your understanding of the cards, and how you communicate with them. Look past information that has been sold to you and seek personal authenticity. You'll be a better reader for it.

*What I am describing here is not a universal experience. Some people and some families practice these trades, not all. Romani people are not a monolith, and this is not a defining aspect or Romani culture.

[inkedtae]

I think the Rotten Angelcake story has way too many cliffhangers. It makes it difficult to enjoy the episode properly because I know that I will have questions that are not answered. It is good to have suspense but considering your upload schedule, I find myself not wanting to know what happens.

Secondly, the story is told. I think in movies they say “don’t tell, just show”. I would rather read the things happening rather than read about it. For example, you mention some jewellery Taehyung gifted. Also, what happened in that theatre? How did Angel take her punishment? I read all the story for it to end in a vague way and it is discouraging. I think it would be more meaningful if I read things happening. Some might be good for foreshadowing, but more times than that I feel like I am reading a summary of what happened with minimal actual dialogue.

By no means you are a bad writer. I think you are brilliant at writing. You have excellent characters that do not weave. We could all gauge how each of your characters would react to certain things. The characters don’t feel rushed. But in general, the story line feels dragged. The story progression feels passive. Most of the episodes are short to average in length and repeat in a certain cycle. I don’t mean to be crude and ask for them to have intercourse, but this back on forth is depressing. I wouldn’t be surprised if Taehyung and Angel went their separate ways. Same thing with Angel’s boss. How many episodes will it take for that storyline to unravel?

I don’t want to come across rude, but I couldn’t stop writing this because I genuinely like Rotten Angelcake. I hope I wrote this with grace and you can take it gracefully. Please take care of yourself and thank you for your time ❤️

hey anon!

first i wanna say thank you so much for reading and being patient with me. i really appreciate that 💕

i completely understand your frustration and confusion. with an unreliable update schedule and more or less formulaic chapters, it can seem very difficult to remain optimistic about or interested in the story. for that i apologize! i don’t mean to be so absent or fall into a predictable format.

to explain, which by no means excuses anything but is just to give some context, my initial goal with rac was to post drabbles of this couple without a certain overarching plot and really just use this series to work through personal feelings, issues, and life experiences. it is probably my most personal series since it reflects so much of my emotions and life. i was just going to post what i felt like, when i felt like, and just what i was feeling at the time. however as i started to write their relationship i really liked the tension and the uncertainty that was between them because it was really reflective of a certain part in my life. so this is kinda of why it seems like things are dragging on. there was no initial direction and i was just posting short scenes of them discovering angels sexuality together until maybe chapter nine or ten when she goes to meet his family. before that it was just a trope-y, smutty series of drabbles. i was not looking to be original or challenge any concepts. overall, i just wanted an open-ended collections of drabbles about how these two people, who don’t know how to come to terms with or navigate their feelings for each other, are super horny lol

however, since i have shifted this to a more “structured” (and i use that word loosely because i now know what i wanna do but not quite how i wanna get there) series, its been harder to write. the plot point for her boss, for example, is hard to wrap up because now i have to reference a plot point from five chapters ago that was a passing detail to establish a sexual interaction. and i recognize that it will be confusing so i'm trying bridge some gaps through this transition from drabbles to “proper” chapters. if i could rewrite this, the series would probably be around five or six chapters instead and much longer and probably less confusing to follow.

also i want to apologise for the vague endings. i can see how that can be really disappointing. you waited all this time for it to end without a clear understand of what's going on and it’s discouraging! i'm really sorry about that.

so moving forward, i will be establishing an update schedule that you can rely on and that i can definitely meet (which i had already had planned on doing after a blog revamp). i will also try to give you more solid endings and more answers rather than questions!

thank you for sharing your thoughts! i don’t think you were being rude. you were just sharing how you feel which is always appreciated. whether or not you choose to keep reading, i just wanna thank you again for giving it a chance. i hope that i have addressed all your concerns! ☺️🫶🏼

[racfoam]

Hi rac 🖐️🖐️🖐️ I have some quick questions you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to ! But what is voldemort going to do when Harry goes back to school? Is Draco in danger I mean he’s Harry’s bully! I hope you’re having a lovely day ❤️ I love you’re work I’ve re read it 3 times now can’t get enough

Hello, anon!

Well, he'll be using a lot of Legilimency and the soul bond once Harry goes back to school. Harry won't master Occlumency by the end of the summer holidays. Mostly because with the lore in my brain I made of Occlumency, there are sort of "stages".

Harry has not reached the stage where she can Occlude while unconscious. She did it once on a total fluke in the Summer Arc, and from what I remember of my own fic, it hasn't happened since.

Occlumency is tougher for Harry to grasp because she focuses a lot on memories as her defense and with memories come emotions and it can all be hard to manage for a beginner, especially Harry who feels strong emotions.

Is Draco in danger? Hm... I am going to say so-so.

Every boy who approaches Harry is in danger at this point.

There is a lot of soul bond/Legilimency-Occlumency lore waiting once Harry gets back to Hogwarts. Also, Luna. You might wonder "Luna?" and... Just trust Luna in nynn once she does appear. I've got it all figured out - mostly. I just gotta write it.

Whenever someone tells me they re-read nynn my heart just bursts with joy. I'm so happy you like it and have enjoyed reading it.

Thank you so much, anon. Sending all love to you ❤️❤️

[morganpdf]

10+11+12+13 + 20? :3c (you can skip some if you want)

i'm starting to realize i have less music onions than i thot. but i just love ask memes <3

this gets long soooooooo for everyones sake <3 readmore be upon ye

10: Any particular artists or songs give you nostalgia?

you and one other person asked this so i will give you one (1) artist and one (1) song that give me nostalgia

soft by washed out gives me intense nostalgia. the ties in my head aren't the best but the song is really nice so i still think of it fondly

then uhhh an artist.. i used to listen to ben howard a lot when i was younger (and by a lot i mean like 2 or 3 songs on repeat for days) so i'll use him for this answer!

11: Song that everybody hates/dislikes that you love/like? AND 12: Song that everyone loves/likes that you hate/dislike?

now we're starting to get into the whole "im not super familiar with music" issue bc i have no idea what songs are popular rn :skull: so i genuinely do not know how to answer this one. um.

13: Any songs that make you absurdly happy to listen to?

i really vibe with California Friends by The Regrettes bc (related to the next question) it's an oc song that reminds me of robin and piper and it gets me hyped up bc i love my ocs. there is a lot of oc music that gets me hyped up. OH ALSO Hey There Cowgirl by Palm Springsteen (also an oc song) (it has iris and rosie vibes) (specifically from iris' pov) (i like to sing along to it very loudly in the car)

20: Do you have any playlists dedicated to your OCs?

yeas :) tho to be fair @saltylenpai made them all, i've just added a few songs here and there (mostly for robin's playlist). so far we have playlists fooooooooorrrrr (sound of me pulling spotify up): Finley (needs to be updated), Fig, Robin/Felix, Piper/August, Iris/Rosie, Flynn, Rowan, Flynn/Rowan, Piper/Robin, Robin, Atlas, Jo (needs to be updated), AND finjo. i think thats all of them. robin's is the one i listen to the most but here are some songs that feature on some of the playlists that i like (i like all of robin's so its a little hard to choose just one)

Finley: Ideas of Home - The Wild

Fig: Need You - Shin Sakiura

Robin: Bit of Rain - Empress Of

Robin/Felix*: Don't Say You Love Me - Transviolet (my choice/early relationship), Come Again - Party Nails (Juice's choice/established relationship)

Piper/August: Now You're Here - Yola

Iris/Rosie: Take Off The Edge - Black Taxi

Flynn: Higher - Mystery Skulls

Rowan: Serotonia - Highly Suspect

Flynn/Rowan: L.G. FUAD - Motion City Soundtrack

Atlas: Heartbreak Summer ft. K.Flay - RAC (there's a lot of crj and troye sivan bc atlas is . a capital G Gay boy)

Jo (human): Put A Light On - Generationals

Jo (squid): Crying on the Subway - Hana Vu, Acid Rain - Lorn

Finjo: I Wanna Love You - Just Friends

*all the songs on their playlist hit and are bops if you want more just ask bc ill make you listgen to them, please listen to them, there are so many and i just wanna write the whole playlist down. fuck

[tushar010297]

Apostille Services in Hyderabad: Your Complete Guide

If you’re in Hyderabad and need to authenticate documents for international use, understanding the apostille process is crucial. This comprehensive guide will help you navigate the intricacies of obtaining an apostille in Hyderabad, covering everything from the basic definition to detailed procedures and common concerns.

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An apostille is a certificate that authenticates the legitimacy of documents for use in countries that are part of the Hague Convention. It streamlines the verification process, removing the need for additional authentication from embassies or consulates. In Hyderabad, apostille services are essential for ensuring that your documents are accepted internationally, whether for personal, educational, or professional purposes.

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Hyderabad, a bustling city with a growing international presence, frequently handles apostille requests. This is particularly relevant for individuals moving abroad for studies, work, or other reasons. With a significant number of international transactions and educational pursuits, apostille services ensure that documents such as certificates, diplomas, and legal papers are recognized and validated across borders.

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Securing an apostille hyderabad involves a series of steps designed to authenticate your documents. Here’s a breakdown of the process:

Document Preparation: Begin by gathering and preparing all documents that need apostille. These typically include educational certificates, marriage certificates, and birth certificates. Ensure they are in the required format and complete.

Submission Process: Submit your documents to the appropriate authorities. In Hyderabad, the Regional Authentication Centre (RAC) is the primary body handling apostille services. Alternatively, you can use certified apostille service providers in the city.

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Here are some frequently asked questions regarding apostille services in Hyderabad:

Which Documents Need Apostille? Apostille services can be applied to various documents including educational certificates, birth and marriage certificates, and legal documents. Always check specific requirements based on the purpose of the document.

How Long Does It Take to Get an Apostille? The time required to obtain an apostille in Hyderabad can vary. Generally, it takes from a few days to a few weeks, depending on the complexity and volume of requests.

What Are the Costs Involved? The cost for apostille services varies depending on the document type and service provider. It is best to contact the RAC or local apostille services for precise pricing information.

Do Documents Need to Be Translated? If your documents are not in English, they may need to be translated before apostille. Ensure that translations are accurate and certified to avoid delays in the process.

Conclusion

Navigating the apostille process in Hyderabad can be straightforward if you are well-informed. This guide provides you with the essential steps and answers to common questions about obtaining an apostille. Whether for educational, professional, or personal use, ensuring your documents are apostilled correctly will facilitate their acceptance and use internationally.

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[fastmusclecar123]

New Post has been published on https://fastmusclecar.com/top-tips-on-finding-the-best-mechanic-for-your-muscle-car/best-muscle-cars/

Top Tips on Finding the Best Mechanic for Your Muscle Car

We can all agree that owning a muscle car is often a dream come true for many of us, and automobile enthusiasts understand the importance of maintaining and repairing it properly! These powerful machines require the best and most special care and attention – which makes it even more important to find a skilled and reliable mechanic who understands the intricacies of these vehicles. So, the big question is, how can you find the best mechanic for your muscle car? Here are some top tips to help you – and ensure that your car receives the highest quality service it deserves.

Ask for recommendations from fellow muscle car owners

One of the first pieces of advice that most muscle car owners know is that there is no better source than fellow muscle car owners. They understand all the needed work their car needs, and they can provide you with valuable insights and recommendations based on their personal experiences. Join online forums, connect with muscle car communities, or attend car shows to interact with owners who share your passion. Their recommendations can help you narrow your search and find a mechanic specializing in muscle cars.

Look for skills and specialization

All mechanics are adept at handling vehicles, and we have no doubt about their abilities. But muscle cars have unique components and performance features that require specialized knowledge for maintenance and repairs, so it’s best to look for mechanics who specialize in muscle cars or high-performance vehicles. These professionals possess in-depth knowledge of transmissions, muscle car engines, suspension systems, and other intricate parts.

Specialized mechanics are better equipped to diagnose and resolve issues specific to muscle cars, ensuring optimal performance. If you want to be doubly sure of your choice, search for RAC approved garages near me – they are sure to have a mechanic on board who knows about muscle cars – or can at least refer you to a trusted garage that does!

Verify their credentials and experience

Before entrusting your prized possession to a mechanic, verify their credentials and experience first. For instance, you should check if they are certified by reputable automotive organizations (such as the National Institute for Automotive Service Excellence). Additionally, inquire about their experience working with muscle cars – a mechanic with a proven track record in handling them will give you peace of mind knowing that your vehicle is in the best and most capable hands.

Visit the facility

Make it a point to visit the mechanic’s facility before finalizing your decision. Take note of the organization, cleanliness, and overall professionalism of the establishment. An organized and well-equipped workshop is a good sign that the mechanic takes pride in their work and maintains a high standard of service. Additionally, speak directly with the mechanic – it allows you to gauge their communication skills, passion for muscle cars, and willingness to answer any questions you may have.

Request a diagnostic assessment

If you have narrowed your choices to a few mechanics, consider requesting a diagnostic assessment for your muscle car. A competent mechanic will thoroughly inspect your car, identify potential issues, and provide you with a detailed report. Doing this will give you an idea of their expertise and help you understand your vehicle’s current condition. Then, compare the assessments provided by different mechanics to make a more informed decision.

[joinwicks-blog]

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[saskiahaggens]

After the Storm ~Poly ending~

Masterlist

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9

Pairing: Jake x fem!Reader x Richy x Phil (?)

Warnings:

spoilers

mentioning of death, attempted suicide

swearing

Word count: 1258

When you woke up your throat was sore. It took you a moment to recall the events. What happened after that? Were Richy and Jake, okay? Even with all these question in mind you couldn't ask a single one of them. First and foremost, the nurses who came in three times a day wouldn't know the answers anyway. Your voice chords, on the other hand, were damaged as a result of the cut. Speaking hurts and your voice sounded really raspy.

After a stressful day of questions, it was a relief when Jessy and Phil came to see you.

"Thank goodness. We were so worried." Jessy cried when she saw you sitting in your bed. You eminently pulled her into a hug and joined her.

"Hey.", greeted Phil gently. He whipped away a few tears from your cheek and smiled tiredly. He whipped away a few tears from your cheek and smiled tiredly.

The dark circles under their eyes told you how sleep-deprived they were, and it broke your heart that you were the reason for it.

"What happened?", you asked after some minutes.

When they heard your 'new' voice, you noticed them flinching. You burst into tears the first time you heard it, and Jessy was no exception. She sobbed much harder than before, burying her face even more in your shoulder.

"Richy and Hannah handed themselves in after they processed what happened. That was around two weeks ago. Jake disappeared shortly after, most likely because he was afraid the FBI would start looking for him again. I don't know what happened to his brother. But Jake promised he wouldn't be a threat anymore.", explained Phil.

Luckily, he understood what you meant by your question. You pulled Jessy even closer after this news. You have to see them. They needed to know you were fine. But how would you do that?

"They said you were allowed to go home next week.", sniffed Jessy.

You were confused on how they got this information, but Phil answered your question.

"Jessy told them we were married," he said, blushing slightly.

"They refused to tell us anything about you. I needed to know if you were okay, and that was the only way."

You chuckled a little, which made them both grin.

Dan, Lilly, Cleo, and Thomas also paid you a visit this week. It was great seeing them again. Thomas even arranged you a meeting with Richy. He was in custody, but Alan Bloomgate was generous enough to allow you to see him after you were released from the hospital.

The week stretched like gum, and when you were finally allowed to leave, you met the person you least expected to.

You were on your way to the police station, while Phil brought your stuff back to your apartment, when you were dragged into an alleyway. You assumed it was Wyatt at first, but you were proven wrong.

"I'm sorry if I scared you, but I needed to see you.", was the first thing he said.

You were confronted by ocean blue eyes that appeared to be more tiered than usual. His black hair was knotted, or so it appeared because it was mainly covered by his hood.

"Jake?"

He pulled you into a tight hug when he heard your hoarse voice.

"I'm sorry for what happened that night. It was all my fault. I can't make it up for you, but I will try with every fiber of my heart. I love you, Y/n. Please come with me. You don't have to decide now, but at least think about it." He looked at you for a second before he started to walk away.

"Richy.", you said as loudly as you could.

Jake stopped. You walked up to him and hugged him from behind. He held your hand for a moment before he turned around.

"I'm sorry, Y/n. I didn't forget about him. I was selfish for a moment."

You gazed into his eyes before moving your gaze to the mask that covered his face. Jake chuckled and moved closer.

"We have to keep up with him, right?", he mumbled and pulled his mask down.

Your heart began to race faster when he came even closer. So, Richy told him, and they kissed as well. Jake's hand was on your cheek only seconds before his lips touched yours. His kiss was not comparable to Richy's. Jake's kiss was warm, like a fireplace during wintertime.

"We will wait for him, no matter how long it takes.", he smiled and leaned his forehead on yours.

You nodded before stepping away. Jake also noticed how the time flew by and that he had to go.

When you met Richy, he couldn't stop smiling. Alan hadn't informed him who was coming, so when he saw you, he believed he was dreaming. You didn't have much to say most of the time you were cuddling, but you told him about Jake when Alan was distracted for a second. It wouldn't be long until Richy's trial, so it was probably the last time you'd see him before he had to go to jail. You hoped for a warm - hearted judge.

Three years later~

Today was the day Richy would get out of jail. He was quite fortunate to receive a three-year jail term and two years of probation. Jake kept his promise, and the day he finally stepped out of jail, you waited for him.

"Come on, Y/n, Richy! We're going to be late!", called Jake out to you.

You were at your now-shared apartment above Phil's bar. Like the day you first came to Duskwood, all of your friends met at his bar to celebrate. They needed time to accept what Richy and Hannah did, and while Hannah got out of jail a year earlier, they decided they would wait for Richy too. They forgave them, and both of them worked hard to gain their trust again.

Richy even went to his parents a few days later. You and Jake accompanied him since he was probably scared of seeing them again. His concerns, however, were unnecessary because his parents embraced him with open arms. He and Jessy reopened 'Rogers Garage' a few weeks later and surprisingly gained many new customers, because many people were disappointed by Tooltastic. (I forgot the name. Please don't kill me.)

As for Jake, the FBI never looked for him again, thanks to Wyatt. You weren't sure what he did, but somehow, he was able to erase every piece of data that ever existed about Jake. You worked with him at Phil's Bar. The barkeeper needed to get used to him, but he eventually befriended him somehow.

"We're coming, handsome.", responded Richy, and he walked up to him.

You quickly followed and held his hand in yours to express that you were sorry.

You don't talk much anymore. Richy and Jake understood you without words by now and respected your decision. Speaking just felt weird now. It didn't feel natural, and voice creaks were normal. It just annoyed you, so you only used it for special occasions, such as tody.

"I love you two."

"Naw, Y/n. You are way too sweet. We love you too, but we really need to go now. We live over the bar. It's embarrassing if we are late."

"As if we aren't already. I can already tell what the girls will think."

"I swear if Dan makes any sex jokes, I'm going back home.", laughed Richy, and he pulled both of you out of the door.

[octoagentmiles]

about me!! yeah :)

name: Miles!

pronouns: they/them. I prefer gender neutral or masculine language. (mx./mr., sir, etc.)

funky brain go- *incomprehensible jargon and mechanical screeching*: a lot of this fandom is neurodivergent, so I want to share that I am autistic, have ADHD, dyscalculia, and anxiety. Many of these things affect the timeliness, or other aspects, of my posts or responses.

I don't want to share my age publicly, but I want to state that folks of all ages are welcome here! Please note though, that some of my content may involve slightly more mature themes, such as swearing (not from me directly, but from reblogs, memes, audios used over videos, etc.), and sometimes angsty topics discussing headcanons and theories related to mental illness or trauma. I will never post anything ns\ft. I will always add CWs and TWs to my posts; if I miss one, please don't be afraid to let me know, or request anything specific!

favourite character: Barnacles 🛞💙

(VERY honourable mentions: Tweak 🔧💚, Natquik/Tracker ❄️🤍, and Kwazii/CJ/Pete 🏴‍☠️🧡)

posts I make: character/episode analyses, random observations/thoughts, funnies/jokes/memes, headcanons/theories, videos/edits, etc.

favourite GBR song(s): Pirate Pie and Briney Blue. Kwazii go prr <3

favourite special: Great Arctic Adventure

favourite season: all of them 4th and 5th

go listen to my Octonauts playlist >:)

"I sent an ask and it's been a while lmao": I struggle with executive dysfunction really badly, but I will get to you eventually. I pinky-promise. /gen

"Where's your askbox?"

ask/dni rules under cut:

(the block button is my dearest sweetest bestest friend <3 so read carefully lmao)

(There are "\"s through some words, so that this post isn't filtered for people who have them blocked.)

Please DON'T ask me shipping questions. This includes my opinions on certain ships, what I ship or don’t, prompts or requests implying certain ships, etc. I know that shipping is fun for a lot of people, but publicly talking about it triggers my anxiety, so I’d rather not. Thank you for understanding.

Side note: Please DON'T TAG ANY of my posts as #ship, unless explicitly stated otherwise with a "#tag however you wish" or "#interpret how you wish". It's rare that I use these tags, but if I do, it's fair game. If you leave comments on my posts or in my inbox about shipping, I will not respond to them, and I'll probably remove them.

Side note²: I don't like pros\hippers. Go away. If I see ANY pros\hip content or support of such content on your blog AT ALL you will instantly be sentenced to life of a block without trial. No excuses, no second chances. ❌

Keep it family friendly. Meaning: No swearing or usage of slurs (even if you don’t know it’s a slur, or if you personally can/have reclaimed it, I will delete your ask/reply, and block you. the word “queer” is fine.), no references to or specific asks about dr*g use or alc*hol, no lemony or sugg\estive material, no graphic viole\nce, go\re, or inju\ry. This applies to comments on my posts, as well.

No queer\phobia (this includes gatekeeping), no rac\ism or xeno\phobia, no able\ism. (or any other kind of -isms, if they ever come up). Don't ever send me hate speech, dis\course, or bullying, regarding myself or others. It's pointless, will be deleted on sight, and I may block you. Go eat a snickers and think about your life choices.

If you really want to ask something that might imply one of the above, please put CWs and TWs* at the beginning of your ask; and be very clear that what you're sending in is a genuine question*, headcanon, or whatever else it may be. (*If it's a question, I may respond privately.)

Also remember that I can decide to just,, not answer something, even if it follows the rules. Usually I’ll do this if I’m not sure how to answer an ask, like, if I’m not knowledgeable enough on the subject, or it references a non-octonauts piece of media that I’m not a fan of, or it features a weird specific trigger/squick of mine that you would have no way of knowing about. Either way, if you’re sitting in your room staring at the wall and you randomly think to yourself, “Hey... my ask never got answered.......” that could be why.

I welcome angst concepts with open arms! But again, please use CW/TWs, and refer to the previous rule’s “no graphic viole\nce” note. If you’ve been here a while, you’ll know I love some good emotional angst~ (high school english teacher voice: "in writing, that's called ✨catharsis!✨")

...UNLESS it’s just a case of Funky Brain Syndrome (executive dysfunction, or good ol' anxiety). In that case, I promise it's not personal, and I am sincerely sorry for the delay—please continue being patient 🙏, and take this lollipop for your troubles: 🍭

———

*Quick glossary:

a CW warns for content that someone may not want to see or hear, for any reason. (examples: viole\nce, ns\ft, certain people or topics, phobias, squicks or triggers: see final note.)

a TW warns for content that may be triggering for someone to see or hear. (examples: flash\ing, eye\strain, unr\eality, vents, tics, certain topics, words and/or phrases, or phobias.)

a squick is something that may make someone highly uncomfortable to see, hear, or read about; it's different from a trigger in the sense that they're usually more mild, and less likely to cause real damage or harm, but you'd still prefer to avoid them nonetheless. (examples: they can be anything, but are often things like certain tropes, topics, ships, or milder phobias, secondhand embarrassment, etc.)

The two words CW + TW can, and very often do, go hand-in-hand; but the difference can matter sometimes—so can the difference between a squick and a trigger.

[willshaper]

Hi so I’m not really sure how to ask this in a way that doesn’t sound pretty confrontational but I’m genuinely curious. What parts of the Mormon faith do you believe in? Or are you more of a cultural Mormon who’s pretty divorced from the belief system? I want to be clear that I’m not of the habit of challenging/questioning anybody’s religious beliefs, but I think Mormonism occupies a unique historical position that leaves it open to criticism for being pretty solidly grounded in—and irrevocably intertwined with—anti-indigenous racism, American exceptionalism, and historical revisionism. I find it hard to conceptualize a version of that faith that still falls under the Mormon label but somehow isn’t based on those principles.

This is a pretty loaded ask and I understand if you don’t want to/can’t answer (I also know you talk more about your faith on your sideblog but I don’t know what that blog is so I couldn’t go there for more understanding). I’m also aware that those criticisms can be applied to a lot of modern sects of Christianity, so know that I’m critical of those principles wherever they appear. I’m asking you because you’re someone that appears on my dash pretty frequently who I generally vibe with so I want to know more

Ok! So first of all my Mormon sideblog is @im-mormon-and-not-straight! Feel free to scroll through there whenever you feel like.

Second of all, yeah I totally agree that the institutional church kinda sucks in a lot of ways. Now I say that as someone who still participates greatly in the institutionalized church. (I go to church basically every Sunday, I watch general conference every 6th months, stuff like that) And as a gay ass Mormon, I have TONS of first hand experience with being at the brunt of shitty things that it has done.

The claim of anti-indigenous racism is so broad that I'm not quite sure what you are talking about.

If you're talking about violence done by pioneers then I totally agree that was fucked up, though from what I understand of church history (which COULD be wrong I don't have a perfect memory by any means) the leadership of the church at the time condemned that violence. Either way, totally agree that it was shitty! But in my mind those were actions done by shitty people who happened to be mormon, not something they did *because* they were mormon

If you are talking about the book of Mormon being based on indigenous Americans that one can get a lot more complicated. I've heard all sorts of ideas on the subject and honestly I haven't figured out what I agree with the most. Some people have said that the BoM is a work of inspired fiction and the events never happened, but it still has spiritual merit and is worth driving meaning of. I've heard other people say that claiming the BoM is fiction erases indigenous history (?) and we shouldn't be completely writing off any historical value. I find myself somewhere in the middle. I don't know whether or not the events in the BoM actually happened and honestly I don't particularly care. I can still learn from what's in it and I take the themes as they are.

I TOTALLY agree with the American exceptionalism point and it drives me bonkers. There's the tidbits of American religious freedom giving the restored gospel a place to flourish that I can jive with but when people go beyond that it makes me just. So frustrated. Everytime oaks gives a talk about how cool and nifty the constitution is I want to rip my eyes out. (Also every time oaks gives a talk ever. I have hated almost every single talk that man has given) it's like they forget that most of early church history everywhere that Mormons went in the us the other americans went "eyyo fuck religious freedom let's burn these people to the ground" (obviously more nuance there but like. The Mormon extermination act HAPPENED. IN the us. It's not like it's some holy institution.) And that's only about shit that affects "Mormons" specifically. (Though of course things like institutionalized racism affect mormons of color. It's just not targeted to every single mormon) American exceptionalism is just another thing that bugs me about the institutionalized church. Like God. Shut up. The USA is not inherently better or worse than any other country.

The historical revisionism thing is something I'm not as well versed on and I don't even know where to begin with what you mean by that. I do know a Mormon historian (as in a historian who works on Mormon history as well as being Mormon himself) and he is dedicated to cataloguing history as it is? Idk maybe I'm missing smth with this one.

Third of all, I consider myself Mormon in both the religious sense and the cultural sense. Being a queer Mormon is something very central to who I am as a person. However there was a point where I was VERY divorced from the church. I was only going because it was what I did and what was expected of me. And to be honest, I found my testimony through my queer identity.

Now, atleast for me, being a queer Mormon is predicated on the belief that the institutionalized church can, and is, wrong about many things. And this is something backed up by doctrine (that people don't talk about enough -_-) we believe in revelation!! That means we don't have all the answers!!! It frustrated me that people act as if the prophets are somehow unable to fuck up as if Joseph Smith himself didn't majorly fuck up while translating the BoM leading to loosing an entire book of the BoM.

Anyways that was a little bit of a tangent.

What I mean to say is that I am someone who calls out bullshit from the prophets and first presidency and I have made the gospel my own. It's hard to put this into words (I've tried several times already and none of them feel quite right) but the foundation of my testimony came from being able to see the good nuggets of the gospel. I wouldn't have a testimony in the gospel if I wasn't able to sort through the bullshit because if I didn't see the good then I would've moved on.

Basically I was well aware of the bad shit before finding the good shit if that makes any sense.

Like. the amount of times I've had a "don't be gay" lesson or had to listen to oaks give a talk that made me want to march up to slc and punch him in the face, or heard someone interpreted scripture in the worst regressive-ass take, it's helped me find a way to move in the opposite direction. Im a firm believer in the phrase "the gospel is true, but not always the church"

Anyways, leading off on to favorite verse!!

2 Nephi 2:25 "Adam fell that men might be; and men are that they might have joy"