#it’s weird feeling disconnected with a name I’ve used for so long

[werewolfri0t]

I’m cross-posting this from Twitter before my confidence runs out on me. 

So I mentioned this in passing a while back but I think I’m ready to give this a shot. I’m changing my name from OC to Riot and would love it if people can refer to me as Riot. I’ve been going by OC since forever - literally 24 odd years now I think.

But for the last couple of years the name didn’t really click the way it used to. I’ve gone through a lot of changes and general frustrations that make me feel a disconnection to how I used to be and just wanting to refresh myself. Riot feels like my general mindset so it just clicks better for me. 

As for my RL name I’m still messing around with it, so for now having a nickname works best for me. I’m not gonna be too fussed if people forget, like I said I’ve had this name for 24+ years. Just bare with me while I assert myself on that lol

[rikibsf]

12. someone like me?

2nd person pov + smau!

why is he such an amazing dancer? it’s been about 15 minutes since he indirectly asked you to teach him the choreography you created that took you hours to perfect. and he seems to be mastering every move in this short amount of time.

after a few more minutes of him basically outdancing you, you both sit down and you try your best to start a conversation with him.

“you’re a better dancer than i thought you were,” you admit. “one of my friends.. she’s a huge fan of your group. your name is always popping up when she talks about enhypen, so i knew you were good but seeing you dance in person feels so.. new to me, you know? i guess i’m just so used to seeing videos of you through a screen.”

he grins a little. “i could say the same for you.”

that’s when you suddenly remember what jungwon said when you first met with enhypen and newjeans. something about him always watching your videos?

“is it true that you used to watch me during your predebut days?” you ask. the question somehow feels awkward. you were worried by asking that question you would seem full-of-yourself, but you were genuinely curious.

you notice his ears go red again. “oh, yeah. that’s true. i watched you a lot when i was a trainee, and during iland but you know.. i stopped after i debuted because of how busy i was.” he scratches the back of his head. “it was also cool seeing someone around my age be that talented and have that big of an audience.”

you feel your face burn at that compliment. you know he wasn’t exactly trying to flatter you but you couldn’t help but get butterflies at that little remark.

“i can’t lie, i’m kind of your fanboy,” he says with a smile. a very pretty smile. like DUDEEE, a gorgeous smile. his inner eyebrows curl upwards slightly and he scrunches his nose.

“that means a lot coming from someone like you,” you say.

“someone like me?” he says, raising an eyebrow and smiling a little bit. you can hear the playfulness in his voice. where did this sudden confidence even come from? he was just shyly rubbing his neck a few minutes ago.

“you’re famous, talented, an amazing dancer, cute, have a huge fanbase. you know, you’re like a 4th gen dance prodigy.”

“cute?” he questions. fuck.

“not cute. well i’m not saying you’re not cute, cuz you are. well like not in a weird way you’re just.. i meant that you’re just..”

“it’s getting pretty late. i have schedule tomorrow and i’m sure you’re busy with your own things, right?” he cuts you off. you mentally thank him for saving you from the embarrassment of explaining yourself. he also saved himself. he could feel his stomach twist and turn the longer he was with you. you were pretty, made him comfortable, despite the fact he was a little awkward around you at first. not to mention, you were funny and an amazing dancer.

“right,” you say, laughing nervously. you stand up and grab your bags, as well as disconnect your phone from the speaker.

“sorry if this is random but.. you and taki are.. close right?” riki suddenly asks you.

“oh yeah we’re really close,” you answer. “i’ve known him for a really long time.” you smile, suddenly remembering taki’s 3rd grade crush on you. “why do you ask?”

judging by the way you smiled at the mention of taki, riki felt like he got all the answers he needed. “no reason, was just curious,” he says as he stands up and walks you to the door of the studio.

“okayyy,” you say with a laugh. “i’ll see you around then. good luck with your schedule tomorrow.”

“thanks.. good luck with um..” riki doesn’t know what to say. “you’re new job.”

“thank you,” you say, throwing him a smile. he feels weak in the knees when you pat his shoulder as you walk out the door. this feeling is so new to him. is he nervous because he’s a fan of your’s? is he feeling sick after doing you’re amazing but tiring choreography? so many questions were running through his head, but he sighs. he knows exactly why he’s feeling that way.

previous | masterlist | next

taglist: OPEN!

author’s note: WE’RE FINALLY GETTING INTO THE JUICY STUFF ty for being patient w me ❤️

@riki-shenanigans @yumilovesloona @schniti-is-in-the-house @aernx @heeheesang @maenijw @jinniee @en-dream @mrowwww @ashy1um @beomgyusonlywife @j-wyoung @chaerybae @lunavixia @rodygr @solstramaii @xiaoderrrr @cha0thicpisces @ilychee08

[alyssajennwrites]

Fireworks ~ Quackity x Y/n

Quackity x f!reader

TW: Fireworks (Loud noises), cursing, fluff

Note: In 1st person. I’m sorry if your tall but for the sake of the story the reader is short. Also, it doesn’t really mention it but Y/n is around Quackity’s age (just wanted to say that so you didn’t get confused).

Remember: D/n = Discord name, S/n = Ship name, N/n = Nickname

Summary: Y/n meets up with the dspm gang for the first time. But things take a slight turn in the wrong direction when Tommy not only sets off fireworks, but when he also sets off Y/n’s fear of loud noises.

A/N: I know it’s not the Fourth of July but I’ve had this idea for forever so I wanted to write it.

Word Count: 2,015

༺𝓞𝓷𝓮 𝓦𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓢𝓽𝓸𝓻𝔂༻

“Happy Fourth of July everyone!” Tommy said through the discord as he and the rest of the gang streamed.

I am currently sitting in my room, waiting for Tommy to finish up. He said he’d be done in five minutes, he said that 30 minutes ago. Not gonna lie, he’s kinda a dick sometimes. He’s my best friend, but he’s just irritating sometimes.

I honestly shouldn’t have let him stream from my setup! I don’t know what I was thinking at the time, but I shouldn’t have let him.

“Tommy,” I whined, walking over to him and placing my head on his shoulder. “You told me you would be done 25 minutes ago.”

I gave him a pouty face while trying to get his attention. He looked over in my direction but didn’t look at me. He looked over at the chat.

“Chat! Stop spamming that! Y/n and I are not a couple!” Tommy said, well more as he yelled.

I looked over to see the chat spamming their ship name for us, S/n. When chat first started spamming it, about a year ago, Tommy had freaked out. But now he just yells for the fun of it.

I laugh and put on a headset, pulling the extra microphone over to me.

“Hey chat!” I say waving at the camera even if I feel like a complete idiot doing so. “Tommy? Why isn’t a game pulled up on the computer? Weren’t you playing on the SMP?”

“Well, Mujer Bonita, we don’t have our set up with us at the moment,” I heard Big Q say through the call.

Big Q has a habit of giving me nicknames but saying them in Spanish. At first, I couldn’t understand a word he’d say, but now I know bits and pieces.

“Oh? And why would that be?” I ask.

“You’ll just have to wait and see missy,” He replies.

“Well chat,” Tommy interrupts. “I better end this before Big Q and N/n get into another fight. You know the drill and I really don’t feel like repeating it but check the follow button and I’ll see you later. Bye!”

He immediately ends the stream, but doesn’t disconnect from the discord call. He turns to me, letting out a long breath.

“What? Why are you acting like you need to do something this minute but you don’t want to?” I ask, tilting my head to the side. “Did you forget that you have a college essay due tomorrow?”

I hear a lot of, “Ooo,” coming from the boys still in the call. I laugh, at Tommy’s face.

“You’re never gonna let me live that down are you?” He asks, the corners of his mouth lifting up slightly.

“Do you really expect me to? You had 3 weeks to complete that essay and you put it off until the night before. I’m surprised you even finished it.”

“Tommy, the lady has a point,” Karl jumps in.

I smirk, triumphantly.

“Quit boosting her ego! You should see the look on her face,” Tommy says, somewhat annoyed.

The whole call bursts out laughing and I’m reminded of how much I want to meet them all in person. I’ve only met Tommy in person and he is currently staying over for the next couple of weeks. I really want to see them.

It’s weird, having people know you better than you know yourself. Especially if those people have never met you in real life. Like, take Karl for example, he knows every one of my favorite songs. Though that’s probably because I play and sing them nonstop when on a call with him.

“Alright, alright! Enough! N/n and I have to go. We’ll talk to you idiots later!” Tommy says.

Multiple byes and see ya’s can be heard from the call before Tommy logs off. That’s when he turns back to face me.

“Let’s go before we miss the party.” With that, he pulls me up and begins dragging me to the front door.

“Tommy where are we going?” I ask for about the third time during our little night drive.

“Y/n! I swear! If you fucking ask again I’m gonna turn around and we’re going home. And trust me when I say you’ll not be happy with that!” Tommy says as he takes a corner way too fucking fast.

I sigh, laying back further in my seat. I pull out my phone, opening Discord to find absolutely no messages from my main SMP friends. I frown, both confused and disappointed. That’s when I decide to get their attention.

See, the boys are very protective of me. Me being one of the only girls along with Niki has its perks. So, I text the main chat for our little group of friends.

D/n:

AAAHHHH SAVE MEEEEE

Big Q immediately answers this and I’m not surprised.

Quackity:

Woah! What’s wrong? Are you okay?

KarlJacobs:

You good?

Dream:

Fuck not again…

Tommy looks over when he hears me laugh at the boys’ reaction.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He leans over and looks at my screen. “Hey! Turn that off! No Discord during our trip!” He takes my phone again, placing it on the other side of him where I can’t reach it.

“Tommy… Give me my phone back!” I yell reaching for it.

“No! Get away!” He screams back at me.

“Don’t make me ask again Bitch Boy!”

Tommy playfully gasps, “Okay, now you’re not getting it back!”

I huff, sinking into my seat, defeated. My phone begins vibrating. Over, and over, and over, and over again.

“Damn girl, why do you have Discord notifications on?” Tommy asks, turning on my phone screen. “Holy shit! What did you say to them? I can’t read what they said because of your stupid Face ID, but I can tell that they’re worried.”

“Dude! Eyes on the fucking road!” I say as he drifts into the other lane.

~~~~~

The drive takes another 30 minutes before Tommy turns into a parking lot. I get out of the vehicle, looking around. There is nothing here. I see no party.

“Here you go. Please answer them before they start bugging me,” Tommy says, handing his phone to me and then leaning on the car.

I unlock my phone to see multiple messages from the boys.

Quackity:

N/n? You can’t scream and then not respond to us!

Mujer Bonita? Answer us, please!

Tubbo:

Y/n?

Y/n are you okay?

GeorgeNotFound:

Did she get kidnapped?

KarlJacobs:

No, she didn’t fucking get kidnapped, George!

It goes on like this for a while. So I keep scrolling to find this,

Wilbur:

Have you tried calling her?

Quackity:

No, let me try really quickly!

Wilbur:

You should have tried that first dipshit!

‘Quackity started a call’

’Fifteen missed calls from Quackity’

I sigh,

“Tommy! You took my phone and now the SMP is worried!” I say, playfully slapping his arm.

“Geez! Sorry, I didn’t want them to spill the surprise!” He said.

But before I could even question him, he dragged me towards the one bend in the road at the end of the parking lot. This bend was conveniently wide enough for me not to be able to see the other side.

“Tommy, I don’t like this,” I say, pulling my arm out of his grasp and backing up. “What is going on?”

“Just trust me N/n.” Right after he said that I could feel my phone vibrate.

I unlock my phone, finding that I had a message from Big Q.

Quackity:

Trust him Mujer!

I look up, confused, but either way, I hesitantly reach out my hand to Tommy. Tommy grabs hold of my hand and pulls me around the bend.

I stop short, gasping at the sight in front of me. There was a huge house like tent with lanterns everywhere. There was a walkway with torches lining the path. The tent was illuminated by what I guessed to candles or lanterns. The one thing that stood out to me the most was the crowd of people all talking outside of the tent.

I freed myself from Tommy’s hold and ran down the path to the crowd. As I make my way closer, I see one of the short males turn to face me. I gasp as I recognize the face, freezing when I recognize all the faces in the crowd.

“What…?” I say quietly. “How are you here?”

Tommy comes up behind me, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“Happy Fourth of July Y/n.”

~~~~~

After many hugs and some tears. We all settle down. Me sitting next to Alex on the loveseat. Wilbur sitting on a stool with his guitar, strumming the tune to Your New Boyfriend. And everyone else sitting on the couches and chairs that surround the fire.

I look around at our group, there was Alex, Karl, Wilbur, Dream with a face mask on, George, Tubbo, Tommy, Philza, Niki, and Ranboo who also had a mask on.

They did it. They actually made a get together. And it is the best get together I could have asked for.

Out of no where, Tommy jumps up and yells,

“Time for fireworks bitches!!”

He runs outside, everyone else following. But as I stood up I realized, I hate loud noises. Tommy’s yelling is fine but, fireworks? I’ll have a mental breakdown.

“You okay mi amor?” Alex asked, walking back over to me.

“Mhm,” I say quietly, still looking at the wall.

“Hey…” Alex says quietly, using if hand to gently turn my head to face him. “What’s wrong?”

“Don’t laugh,” I saying, smiling sadly.

“I promise.” He sticks his pinky out for me to link with mine.

I laugh lightly, linking our pinkies in a promise.

“Okay, so…” I take a deep breath. “I’m scared of loud noises.”

Alex looks shocked at that. But he doesn’t laugh. He gives me a small smile and pulls me into a hug. But then suddenly he pulls away.

“How do you handle Tommy’s yelling and screaming them?” He looks worried, but I just chuckle.

“Oh, Tommy’s fine. I know that his yelling is all fun and games,” I reply smiling. “When I first met him though, I almost fell out of my chair because I jumped so hard when he yelled out his welcome.”

“Well, why don’t we go outside with the others?” He asks, stretching his hand out for me to grab.

I hold on, momentarily forgetting my fear. That is, until Tommy set off the first firework and I jump back. Alex immediately looks back to see me sitting on the ground, shaking. He quickly sits down next to me and covers my ears with his hands.

A look of worry, and guilt crossing his face. His hands were warm on my ears, and I couldn’t seem to make myself look away from his eyes. There was something about them that was mesmerizing.

We stayed like that until Tommy had run out of fireworks to light. Alex pulled his hands away from my ears as soon as he was certain that there were no more fireworks. He gently brushed his fingers across my skin, wiping away the tears that had broken free.

“I’m sorry, I should have stopped them sooner,” he whispered.

“It’s fine,” I whispered back.

“Hey! What do you two think you are doing on the ground?” Tommy called out from the distance.

Alex and I both laughed, helping each other off of the ground. We spent the rest of the night laughing and having fun. And Alex couldn’t seem to let go of my hand, but I’m not complaining.

“Wait, were you guys texting me from the same room? And were you in a call with Tommy from the same place?”

I never got an answer, I only got a bunch of laughter.

[dailymothanon]

I hear that Homer, Alaska has an opossum, and despite it being invasive, the people want Grubby elected.

Thoughts on Grubby for mayor?

Yeah yeah Grubby isn’t actually Mayor but we Alaskans love making animals mayor. They’re much better than people; but from what I read Washington sent a thing to Alaska and Alaska found the opossum in it. He’s only known Grubby for 5 minutes but if anything ever happens to him he’d kill everyone and then himself

Some Juneau & Augusta Hcs cuz they’re literally best friends or something (long list I think)

Juneau works at saloons (very popular) but mostly for fun. They find people to be interesting and also can handle a fight (I’ve been told panhandle folks are rather feisty— mostly historically tho, since they had Tlingit warriors and knew how to fight, hence the Battle of Sitka)

Augusta thinks Juneau is weird but Juneau thinks Augusta is weird (they are both weird)

both of these fellas being the second capital of their state sometimes feel like they need to live up to the former capitals glory (Sitka and Portland)

Juneau is a great storyteller (tlingit & haida culture has taught them well)

Augusta’s favorite snack/dessert are s’mores

Juneau’s favorite colors are red and black

Sitka was Juneau’s technical caretaker back then

Augusta thinks Juneau is too reckless and picks on them for it

Juneau feels disconnected from people and Augusta is pretty sure Juneau looks at her and others like she’s a strange bug

Augusta can’t ever remember how to spell Juneau’s name so she just spells it like “Juno”

Augusta knows more French than Juneau (since Juneau also is familiar with French Canadians, being ‘founded’ by them)

since Juneau is not accessible from roads Juneau is the strange onlooker of the capitals. Everyone thought they were creepy, but Juneau doesn’t really care and has no comment on that

Juneau goes barefoot just about anywhere and any time (old tlingit tradition) so Augusta got them flip flops even tho they barely use them

Augusta has orange-yellow eyes. Because I said so

uhhhh idk that’s it

bonus I’m pretty sure Maine snorts when he laughs 🙄 I heard it myself

[yukidragon]

I don't know how this site works and if this question has been asked before, but I can't stop thinking about it. After a night together with Jack, which was very significant for both of them, MC goes to open the door for Shaun and spends a lot of time with him, as if forgetting about the naked lover in the bedroom. She doesn't go to him to put him in a situation, but sits with Shaun and talks about crap. I don't know how to interpret it, but it seems sooo weird to me, What can that mean?

For this, I would like to draw attention to MC’s thoughts in the demo at a few scenes. First, here is their thoughts after Ian’s phone call when Jack goes to comfort them.

I’ve felt so bad for so long…I almost feel guilty, how he seems to make it all just disappear… How I think I… Maybe I might just… … ... No. No, something isn’t right about this. I feel for him...But something about this is too good. I won’t use him as a bandage, to cover up the feelings I don’t want to feel.

Then a little later...

After all this time… Is this. Love? Does Jack really make me feel whole, all on his own? Or…Is this just a hallucination too. Is this even real? Do I want to love…A hallucination?

MC regards being with Jack as being in a dreamy haze, as they themselves remark on in the “yes” route.

I can’t help but feel odd when I’m grounded in reality. The things I can see and hear and touch for myself. At the moment. Jack is all that I can see. He’s the most real thing there is. But after that, when anything else has my attention, I can see the utter ludicrousness of the situation. Is it intoxicating? Is that what this is? What is this dreamy haze that I find myself consumed by when it comes to him? …And I still don’t quite know what he is. No. No, I really shouldn’t be giving him this kind of power over me.

Jack’s presence in MC’s life is supernatural, and seems to feel like something out of a dream. When reality snaps us out of that dream and demands our attention, we usually tend to forget about the daydream for the most part and focus on the here and now. This could be the case whenever anything else distracts MC from Jack that he feels less real to them in the same way.

However, it could be something much more mundane than that. MC remarked that they were not quite awake and coherent when talking with Shaun. They forgot he was coming and panicked at that fact. These two things, plus their reunion, could serve as enough of a distraction to make them forget that their lover is waiting for them in the other room. Sometimes people are just awkward that way, and we’ve seen MC get distracted at times when engaging with people, as Jack, Shaun, and Ian comment on in their own ways.

Shaun Jeez. Nice to know you’re still a total space case, huh?

Ian Alice?…Are you alright? I snap out of my blissful trance. Alice Oh. Uh. Yeah! Yeah, no, I’m alright! Ian You’re totally spacing on me…Is everything okay?

Jack Alice? Are you okay? Ack. I jump as I return from the realm of warm fuzzies and back to reality.

I hope you don’t mind that I saved these quotes with my version of the MC’s name in them.

Anyway, it seems to be a plot point in the game that MC is the type of person to “space out” on people. This mild disconnect from reality could be part of why they struggle to believe Jack is even real and wonder if they’re just hallucinating his existence entirely.

If MC has this sort of habit of wandering off inside their head, only to snap back to reality when someone is asking for their attention, they could be used to just pushing everything to the side to focus on what’s immediately in front of them until they’re reminded of other things they should be focused on. This could just be something normal for them, or it could’ve been affected more strongly by their fatigue, Jack’s supernatural nature, or any combination thereof.

This tendency to disconnect from reality might also be another reason why MC is running away from nostalgia so desperately. They need to focus on what’s ahead, not what’s behind, though they can’t seem to help wandering off and getting lost inside their head, as we’ve seen in their narration in the demo.

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur  

[transenbyconfessions]

i still go by my deadname, since i haven’t found a name that i feel truly fits me, and instead of it being dysphoric (it is, but not as much as i’d think) it’s just really……weird. it doesn’t sound like my name. even a little beyond the general trans level of things. i have such a disconnect to the name that it makes me feel gross when people call me it, like i’m being caught stealing someone’s identity or something. or i’m wearing the skin/disguise of someone with my deadname and i’m doing a really bad job at pretending like i am them. i don’t know. it’s really weird. i wish i could hurry up and find a name for myself so i don’t have to keep using the ill-fitting one but i’ve been searching for so long i don’t know if i’ll ever actually find one i like

[ainulindaelynn]

The craziest symptom of cPTSD is the complete detachment from my own body. I don’t know if there’s a name for that, but if there’s not, there should be.

Warning: much mental health rambling ahead 😅

In a nutshell, there’s a tiny adjustment happening in my house that I’ve been genuinely excited about forever, but realized last night my body and my brain are on completely different pages about it.

Emotionally, I’ve been fine for a long time, but tonight I caught myself randomly sucking in a huge anxiety breath. I did this last week once too, while leaving my tagalong at preschool for the first time, which he was pretty upset about, and I thought it weird then too, because I felt fine at the time. Sympathetic, but personally okay.

As soon as I made the connection, I realized this is much bigger. The source (separation) and the symptoms line up perfectly with the first (ish) event of my PTSD series. Looking back, I think I’ve been experiencing a somatic flashback for a month without realizing. It started during fire season (the second event), and kicked up worse in the last week or two.

Taking stock, my circadian rhythm has been severely fucked up. Executive function is out of whack. My sense of time is funkier than usual. Body dysmorphia has spiked a little. Heartburn. My skin is acting weird. I have people I want to see, but am not responding to? My hair is falling out, ffs. The list goes on and on, but it’s all subtle. I assumed it was related to sleep and season change, but no.

My body is re-experiencing all the grief and strain of the first event in my PTSD series and somehow I have not felt it on the surface at all. Emotionally I’ve been fine. It is the strangest feeling.

I’m always grateful when I finally recognize these weird cPTSD symptoms, because now that I see what’s happening, I can wave the ‘you’re not falling apart, it just feels like it’ flag and give myself permission to listen to my body for a while. Ease back at work. Curl up and do nothing sometimes. Take naps. Meditate. Dissolve into a game when I need to. For short periods, the bare minimum can be a beautiful thing. Finding the bottom instead of fighting it, and use it to come back up in time. That’s the theory at least. It worked with catastrophizing. Just cutting myself slack and backing off for a bit.

I knew I shut myself out of my own emotional experience sometimes, but forgot the body disconnect can be so severe that I wouldn’t even feel it until I was literally gasping for air.

I still feel more like an observer than a participant, but this is a big step.

[babstheyaga]

updates on me and fmod (vent)

another break up... jesus i can’t catch a break. this one is easier on me than the last. my last relationship was a year and half long, and it totally broke me and my alter shishi (nickname, he’s not comfortable using his real name anymore) down really badly. 

my eating habits are getting out of control. i haven’t eaten anything in the last 48 hours because i can’t get myself to do it anymore, i’m basically dependent on alcohol and my vape atm, i’m constantly either drinking or staying up for days on end just staring at Open Office to try and write for literally like two hours straight while listening to the same song over and over again.

the only thing that is making me get motivation right now is asmr because it’s comforting, and writing other stories besides fmod. i need another break from it... again. 

i’ve come to the conclusion i’m not going to be dating for at least a year, maybe two. i think i really just need to become a hermit and only talk to my bff and family for a long while. 

my therapist is gonna hate me... either that or love me because i’m giving her so much money by having constant problems all the time lol

fmod is gonna be on hold for a bit, mostly because it was a really big connection between me and my girlfriends, and now that we broke up, i feel disconnection from it again. i’m now refusing to show my stories to my friends/partners, because if a break up is enviable, i’m not gonna risk disliking the story simply because my ex liked it and i feel weird writing it again. 

on the bright side, i’m opening a new connection to a story that i ditched on wattpad about a year or so ago. Love Me, Love Me which is about Yandere!BumbleBee (of course, who else). i’ve been writing that a lot and i’m getting really into it. i think once i get a few chapters of that done and posted, which might be a month, might be a week, a few days, you never know with me nowadays, i will most likely start up fmod again. not ditching it, i swear, i promise on my left arm that i’m not ditching it... i know that it can be a worry for my viewers, considering i’ve abandoned so many of my past stories. i made a promise that i’m continuing Hit and Run, along with Fear Me or Die, and even if it takes a few months, maybe more than a few, maybe a lot more than a few... and i’m going to stick with it. hand on the bible.

okay, that’s about it. thanks for reading, i’ll be snoopin around for a bit, i’ll keep yall updated on Love Me, Love Me and see what i can do about starting up Hit and Run along with fmod... ttyl :)

[bread-mother]

It’s me, hi, I’m the problem it’s me.

Hey, sexy people. Where do I even begin? I find it so hard to write my feelings or thoughts because there is just so much and it feels so complicated that I don’t even know where to begin so I just don’t begin at all.

Hello, hi. I’m Sophie. I’m 24 years old. Currently, in a loving, long-term relationship with the most amazing man I’ve ever met. He’s 39 and his name is Scott. We live together with our dog, Merle. We’re polyamorous together. We date women together. We’ve been poly for about 7 months. We’ve definitely had our ups and downs, but for the most part, I’ve really enjoyed it.

Lately, I’ve been feeling more blah, disconnected, discouraged. We have fun times with the women we date, but I certainly feel like we’re the ones putting in more effort than them. For example, I honestly wonder if we would ever see these women if we didn’t ask them out, we didn’t initiate the conversations, etc. Very discouraging when the negative outweighs the positive. In no way do I want to stop being poly, but I want more from it. I don’t know how to get more from it.

See, a chronic symptom of my BPD is feeling dissatisfied with like everything all the time. Even if it’s something I want/need, it’s just not the *right* thing. This is probably how drug addicts feel. Always jonesing for the next fix… except I don’t know what the next fix is. Just something new. I need chaos. I’m very comfortable with my current situation. I’m working a good job, I’m saving money, I live in a safe, beautiful, normal house. I have everything I could ever need, but I guess I’m just not grateful enough?

Everyone feel free to chime in at any point.

My brain sometimes feels like it runs at a million miles an hour and my thoughts are all jumbled and none of them make any sense.

Back to the poly stuff. Poly is fun. Women are fun. Sex and dating with women is very satisfying, but I just don’t feel that lately. Perhaps I’m just in a bit of a depression right now so I’m not seeing things properly. I am having a weird spotting period moment lately, so it could just be hormones that are fucking me up?

That’s another thing I do/have an issue with: not knowing why I feel something. I just feel it and don’t understand it completely. I’m also so used to that that I kind of gaslight myself and downplay my feelings. To be fair, my emotions are often wild and out of hand… another symptom of my BPD.

I think that is all I have to say for now. This has honestly helped me feel a bit better. Less blah, more calm.

[ketavinsky]

No worries about long response times. I might just be in a nostalgic mood but it feels a bit like sending actual letters and getting excited waiting for a response. For me the wandering urge is almost a way to make sure I can’t need anybody. The second I realize I’ve started relying on someone or people know me too much, I get terrified. I’ve still yet to find people who won’t use it against me so it’s easier if I remove the chance altogether. I think it’d be nice someday if the paranoia dies down to have a life with people who know me and let me lean on them without ulterior motives. I think I’d like to bake with someone in an apartment or a house, anywhere with lots of trees and birds around. In the meantime I have my cat and myself, sometimes people online but those often pass too. I’m codependent at core but I’m trying to break it by force I suppose. The idea of a home is everything I’ve ever loved and feared in one, yknow?

I think I understand what you mean. It’s easy for me to theorize why I feel how I do but all of the answers feel incomplete or insignificant to the feeling itself, like I’m missing something vital. I feel a lot of things for old pictures of myself, for lots of potential reasons but I think predominantly I feel grief and disconnect. It doesn’t feel like me but it feels like someone who should have been. I’m not sure if you’re familiar with the story of changelings but it feels a lot like that. There’s this kid in these photos who people tell me I am but I can’t imagine it. They feel so different from me physically, emotionally, etc. My brain refuses to accept that I could have ever been the kid in the pictures and I feel that everyone else can see it too. There’s something wrong about me, some cruelty that made me kill off the person in the pictures and make me into something distinctly Other. Maybe it’s always been this way, I don’t remember my childhood much. I guess from a more realistic theory dissociation is to blame but that seems so empty for everything I feel. I suppose it makes sense though. I’ve always pretended to be someone else, I never felt like I was truly who I was supposed to, expected to be. As a kid it was anyone stronger, braver, more wanted. As a teen I was a horror movie protagonist, or antagonist, either way it made the suffering right and reasonable and palatable instead of just tragic. Now I’m not sure who I am, or who I was, or who I will be. I hope 23 brings me the same awareness.

Not sure how to phrase this in a way that won’t sound weird but I love the way you talk. You make everything sound so effortlessly poetic and important. It hits emotions I haven’t felt in a while. I also love the use of different medias, both in your writing and in your blog. I’ve never been as good with words but it all makes me feel things I don’t have names for, adding layers to each other. I think a lot of times the best word I can identify for your writing is wistful but there’s more than that too. Thank you for sharing it. The email especially struck me. A couple months ago I watched my friend be taken from his room on a stretcher. Overdosed. Two hours prior I had narrowly convinced myself not to do the same. It felt like some cosmic karma. That I should’ve been the one lying there, blank stared and he should’ve kept going. It should’ve been me. Sometimes I think he is me and I am him and no one is anyone except maybe each other. Do you feel that way too? It seems to me sometimes that without other people around, I’m not sure I would even exist.

I’ve been through so many groups and people, desperate relationships and friendships that have felt more like mutual destruction than love and yet I do still miss them. I feel incomplete on my own and I know people will say that everyone is their own person but I’m not. I don’t feel like my own person, I don’t know how or who to be without someone else to reflect off of and live for. I don’t know my own dreams without someone to share them with. I haven’t found anything good yet but I’d take the surety of a constant companion using me over the aching and longing of a lifetime alone. I have these two friends now but I know it must be exhausting for them. They’re together, likely to be married, and so healed and capable while I’m still crashing and burning on the daily. They do their best but there’s things they can never know, never understand. I spill my guts in front of them and they just look at each other, unsure what to do with me. I don’t know either. I’m not sure if it’s selfish of me to let them keep trying. I know they love me, in the first real way I’ve ever been loved. But maybe if I loved them properly, in a way with less claws and teeth and desperation, I’d let them let go of me. In two years we’ll go our separate ways and I’m selfishly chasing every minute I have left.

Got a bit carried away this time. I hope you’re well. -N

hello N! no need to worry about being carried away i always appreciate seeing these messages and as always i apologise for my late response times! i would love to send messenger pigeons or something of the like one day but there is... a lot to sort out before i can achieve this. anyways, i hope you see this nonetheless because i enjoy your takes! i relate to and appreciate your takes on the home -i was about to say the motif of the home, for a moment there, hasty backspacing, etc- and i hope you someday achieve the ideal of someplace safe you can be seen, and see, by others, with your cat as well. the older i get the simultaneously wider and smaller the world gets and i think id someday want an easy resting place to come home to. myself i dont think ive felt home anywhere other than the house i recently moved out of. i mourn that a little bit. the old house.

i understand acutely what you mean when you refer to changelings. i was actually thinking about the last night- i would have replied then but it was a little too heavy, all of it, to hold. i don't know what to make it. i don't even know if that's true. i think after all this time i should know what to make of all of it but maybe it eludes me right now as i type? there's like this..... separation between myself and everyone else that i meet and it can't be overcome- i can only twist myself into different shapes and people. anyways, i was thinking about it last night, because i keep thinking, the world is so huge and we as individuals are so small, but i can't help but think, all the people that i see, they will never understand. you know? say everyone experiences something on this scale of disconnect from their peers and images of themselves) im sure many, many do, i have to tell myself im sure) and say we all contain multitudes (of this i am certain). say those things are absolutely true. even if they were absolutely true i still feel like it can't be understood by many multitudes most. do you think you've been cruel to yourself? do you think you've been cruel to people who have cared about these facets or memories that you feel very little kinship with? where does the cruelty come from and where is it directed? you don't have to answer! i think... that ive been exceptionally cruel to myself and people around me at times, unintentionally, and intentionally too, intentionally a lot of the time, but i think that my unrelenting i-am-standing-on-the-precipice-of-a-cliff-or-a-bear-trap curbs most of these somewhat antisocial tendencies.

thank you for your kindness regarding my writing. i really think it's all i can do sometimes. i dont mean it in a self deprecating way. i feel like... i feel like most of my life has been translating the things i feel and the things i see and above all else the things i hear into recognisable format, with varying degrees of success. when i was young i wished for some kind of technological marvel that would connect my mind with anyone else's and then they would see and i would know that they saw and then in that moment i would finally have an earnest friend. the idea that i might not be able to publish my personal projects for reasons in my control and outside of it is therefore quite excruciating. do you want to be understood? do you think it would salve some part if you if you knew, like really knew, someone could hold your eye and say I GET IT I DO and you could trust that they meant it? i know there's a lot of different ideas there to unpack. the thing of trust the thing of eye contact. i personally kind of struggle with eye contact but im starting to think that maybe im fine with eye contact and i tell people i dont do eye contact so i dont freak them out when i actually hold their gaze? my partner,,.. well as in that piece of writing my partner thinks i have a hollow stare. it's easier to avoid eye contact entirely. i hope you held your eye of the friend if that's your thing. i hope he's alright. is he alright? again no pressure to respond. i hope he's alright. Sometimes I think he is me and I am him and no one is anyone except maybe each other. i think you have a way with words as well- this is beautiful, and i understand, i do. do you think you would be happier if you could be someone else? an extension of them like one of their organs or limbs? do you think that would be easier? i feel like a conjoined twin scavenged from some red and ravaged mess before i had enough grey matter to form memory, but i feel all the time the phantom presence of my unseen unnamed unrecognised other half. you know? i think all the time that if there were two of us this would be easier to bear. like, if i were two and not just myself, i could be happy, or if i were instead the unnamed unseen unrecognised part of the self. you know? if i were the shoulders i could bear it. if i were the hands i could bear it. if i were the lizard hindbrain i would transform it and smother it in tissue paper and then i would hide it away and the not-me, the gestalt entirety, would then be happy. you know?

i want to be able to tell you that im sure your friends love you wholly and selflessly despite how you describe yourself or your fluctuating idea of self but i dont know your friends. i hope that for you, though, i really do. i hope there's an answer too. i feel the same- whenever i move somewhere else i pack all of myself up and crush it and shelve it away so i can use it to entertain the next group of people and each and every time none of them can believe who i used to be or how things were then and i cant explain that each and every time i loved them all and i really do feel like i was inadequate as a human being let alone a friend. it's so easy for some people it seems. these people were bad for you and these were good, or it's complicated and people are complicated and your little life is complicated, but it's all part of you, and this is the life you have lived/are living. i don't think these things encapsulate what it's like. is it like that for you? i'm sorry that your friends look at each other like you're untranslatable unnamable unrecognisable. i am. i hope they love you. i hope you're friends for a long while yet.

earlier this year there was a major fissure in my current friend group. we've all pretty much been living with each other for five years and the friend group split apart due to a financial dispute that became emblematic of Everyone's Personal Life Philosophy and i feel like i'm the only person who recognises why it went so badly because i'm always watching people, you know? on one end one of my friends was super no non-sense logical; another felt undervalued for a gift of service, something he puts a lot of pride in, he's a gardener, he's a cook; another tried to bring a philosopher's love of querying and a very moral perspective that was perhaps inappropriate for the level of emotion at the time; the last, the most recent friend, sort of derided the rest of us for the infighting but aimed for diplomacy; i, the coward, the observer, sat in the background and kind of watched them grow to hate each other. i shouldn't be so melodramatic but the gist is one of the best friends ive ever had has been cruel to the others, something im not sure i know how to forgive yet, and he wont speak to me, and things are different and nobody wants to think about the five years we were a solar system. i don't know what to do with that. i don't know, i don't know. it's such a waste. all of these save for me and another grew up with siblings; all of them grew up with stable homes and parents whose interactions with them were rarely violent if ever; all of them are... i would say functional people, save for me, and i feel like it's such a waste. the house i go back to for the holidays isnt a safe one and so i invest most of myself into friendships and when theyre destroyed it hurts me and i think its such a waste. its such a waste and they might not understand how much of a waste it is but i do.

i hope you and your friends love each other dearly for a long while yet. i truly do hope that for you

shrike/chez/whatever name you please

[mattspinksjoyblog]

MIRACLES vs. CHRISTOLOGY???

MIRACLES vs. CHRISTOLOGY???

But, it’s really, really weird to me to EVER imagine disconnecting healthy happy Christology from a life of intimate Glory experience and miracles!

Embracing that idea would never cross my mind!

And, it’s really not true of any of the preachers/teachers that I run with.

Of course, I have met dry stuffy theologians in my life MANY times. I grew up around that. It’s sad. But, that’s not the circles I surround myself with! I could NEVER go back to that!!! Jesus is alive! And the Holy Spirit is SO REAL!!!

OF COURSE, some of the guys we run with have more or less “supernatural” experiences than others!

But even if they were, is this supposed to be some kind of a competition?

Yet, there’s some kind of platform they’re trying to build as the “real Holy Spirit manifesting miracle guys,” or something.

It’s just very, very strange.

We need to watch out for hypocrisy and just “talk.”

But, more importantly…

Why is this some kind of competition to them?

Why do they seem to act like miracles are the biggest deal of all?

It’s smells to me exactly of the way that the televangelists hyped their ministries up when I was growing up in the 80s & 90s. And, the subsequent ministry empires that crumbled because it was all built on big names and glamorous supernatural stories. Those ministers ended up with multiple wives, multiple affairs, hurting their followers and taking their money, over and over and over. Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Bakker, Todd Bentley, the list goes on and on and on…

I never feel the need to quote my supernatural resume, literally ever.

It never crosses my mind.

But, we actually do see stuff happen supernaturally a lot!!!

What have I actually seen???

Ask the people who minister with me!

I saw three deaf ears open up in the last 12 months.

I’ve seen literal blind eyes open.

We saw an amazing person get their sight restored last year in the Tijuana garbage dump.

I’ve watched as women were supernaturally delivered from demons right before my eyes, not very long back.

We saw a little girl raised from the dead in Nicaragua.

We’ve had heavenly jewels show up, physical manna, angels feathers, gold dust, pillars of Glory.

We’ve seen WILD financial miracles.

Our ministry runs off of divine direction and intimate prophetic details.

And, I only mention those things occasionally when it serves the greater good AND the actual message of the Gospel! I try to be very careful not to manipulate people with “impressive stories.” Unfortunately the one-upping of miracle or prophecy stories is how I’ve seen dozens of ministers garner their following!

Jesus Christ is Savior and Lord!

I want you to be impressed with Him, not ME!

I’ve found over the years that people can see a hundred miracles but if they don’t connect with the actual Truth that sets them free, then they remain in bondage!

But, ALSO I specifically, personally, as Matt Spinks, just have a passion and a calling as a teacher primarily, as far as “ministry gifts” go.

If someone else has more of a calling as a healing evangelist, or a prophetic miracle worker, I LOVE to partner with those types of people! I don’t see them as competitors that I need to degrade or insult or try to make like me. We are all on the same team! We need each other!

If you are secure in your calling, you don’t feel the insecurity to need to tear others down as they walk in theirs.

Papa’s heart is to see ALL the parts of the body loving and honoring one another. Seeing ALL of Jesus manifest among us!

If you are seeing more miracles than me, THAT’S SO GOOD!!! Please carry on!

But, there is this thing going on right now where these dudes are calling out the ministers that aren’t seeing enough miracles “according to them.” Personally, I just don’t feel the love in it. We’re meant to be on the same team!

The most insane part of the whole thing is that these accusers aren’t even posting testimonies of the miracles they’re seeing God do. They’re almost entirely complaining about others. Or they’re taking about great things that are coming soon! Just around the corner! (The classic charismatic hype bait and switch.)

(*And if this post motivates them to start walking in more miracles, and to start sharing actual non-hyped-up testimonies, then praise God!* But, I’d rather we all just be ourselves and walk out our calling simply for the sake of love, not to prove ourselves to one another. What a mess!)

Why ARE these dudes trying to tell everyone that the “Christology guys” don’t see miracles anymore?

For one thing, I know that one of the guys they are calling out has been going through the toughest season of his life ever due to absolutely no fault of his own, a deep family tragedy. I’m just proud of him for not giving up on everything, and yet he’s shining as he always has. If he’s not out doing healing evangelism right now, maybe we shouldn’t kick him when he’s a bit down. But, that’s another story for another time. I’m just grateful to know some authentic CHAMPIONS in the faith!

My guesses why these accusations are coming up…

A. Maybe these guys are trying to find a niche in which to build up a following for financial gain OR just for the need to have a following (power trip). Miracle stories can easily be turned into money or power, especially among Christian charismatic circles.

B. Maybe they have some kind of personal grudge against the guys who are teaching theology and just want to see them discredited.

C. Maybe theology isn’t their personal “thing,” but they can’t just let others do their “thing.”

D. Maybe they don’t like having their personal outlook on life challenged by Christology so they’re set out to discredit those who are challenging them. They need to be right or don’t want to embrace growth in their understanding of Trinity & reality.

E. As one who has spent time engaging both the mystical/spiritual aspects of my being, as well as the intellectual aspects, I can say that it can feel very different to grow in one or the other. (Not that they are even separate in any way AND it’s all by Grace and the wooing of Holy Spirit.) I do personally engage my intellect to grow in specific ways, and my awareness of mystical and spiritual realities in certain ways. I’ve also seen that many people are only really used to one or the other. They really like one or the other. It may just be that these people simply don’t really feel a joy on engaging their intellect or their intelligence to grow theologically. Just like there are many people in the body of Christ who don’t feel a joy engaging the mystical/spiritual side of their awareness. I think we’re called to engage BOTH, but some people seem to emphasize one or the other, and sometimes that’s ok for a time. Maybe they don’t understand that BOTH are SUPER valuable.

F. Maybe they’re blaming their own past problems from their life on too much theological focus. Which can happen, that’s why we encourage an integrated experiential Christology. I don’t know of anyone in our circles who is only encouraging just a theological focus. But maybe they are afraid of where that will lead because they think that’s what happened to them.

G. Maybe their heart is genuine, and they just don’t realize that accusation isn’t the way forward?

Maybe all of the above.

What I do know is that we are all a part of the same loving family. So I’m not sure why there’s this need to compete, “one-up,” or discredit.

Let the fruit speak for itself.

But, let us understand that the fruit of the Holy Spirit isn’t miracles, signs, or wonders.

It’s just not.

How many of the miracle guys lost the plot completely throughout church history??

I am so thankful for the miracles that come BY JESUS’ ABILITY & LOVE, however…

God’s fruit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, goodness, faithfulness, and self-control!

And, if someone is bearing fruit in a different way than you, why can’t you genuinely bless them???

Let’s encourage one another in solid Biblical Christology AND tangible Holy Spirit experience! We don’t have to pit one against the other, or make this a competition.

And, if you are in a time where you are seeing one emphasized more in your life right now, THAT’S so great! Don’t reject the other!

Christology & mystical Glory experience go together beautifully! It’s all HIM!

We are bigger and better than this, family!

Let’s keep growing!!!

We get to have ALL OF JESUS!!!

Yummmmmmy!

[mulletmammon]

......

[thefanficmonster]

Love For The Faceless

Corpse Husband x Youtuber!Reader(Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff 

Summary: Y/N is a YouTube gamer who has recently gained a much larger following thanks to the streams she does with her friends. Naturally, considering her faceless and bodiless nature, people are starting to get curious about her. When she finally follows her friend Corpse’s example, a lot more than her hands is revealed.

Requested by anon, you know who you are 😉 Thank you so much for placing a request and hope this fic fulfills the expectations you have for it.

“Hey!“ I greet the lobby as I finally hop into the Discord call after quickly saying ‘hi‘ to my audience.

I’ve been a YouTuber for four years now and I’ve only recently started streaming, encouraged to do so by my best friend Rae. She’s the one who got me in multiplayer games such as Among Us and Phasmophobia which led me to meet her amazing gaming squad that consists of some of the most famous names on the platform. They are all wonderful people and I will forever be in Rae’s debt for introducing me to them. However, becoming friends with Felix, Sean and the rest of the team brought not only a more fulfilled life, but also a small boost in following. Who am I kidding, it wasn’t small. It was overwhelming, terrifying even.

My YouTube channel had a little over a million subscribers at the start of quarantine and now....now it’s closer to three million. Speaking of three million, I’m about to reach it any day now and it’s really hard to believe. I’m a gaming youtuber and I’ve never considered changing my genre despite expecting to not get any attention whatsoever, with all the big names on the platform. I was convinced not even as many as a hundred people would stumble across my videos and now here we are.

My OG subscribers are very supportive of my sudden growth and are defending me when my newer fans ask for a face reveal or whatnot. While we’re on that topic I might have to mention that not even my YouTube friends, and that includes Rae have seen my face. I’ve been faceless and bodiless for the entirety of my time on social media. Some claim I do it to grab more attention or for dramatic effect, but the reason is beyond that. I’m not shallow. Actually, shallow people are the reason I don’t show my face. I’ve never been the prettiest, but my middle school bully thought that I wasn’t lacking self confidence enough. As a result, I ended up with a not so handsome scar on my right cheek that starts from the corner of my mouth and nearly misses my eye. Yeah, it’s a long and pretty noticeable scar that has thankfully become less and less obvious as the years have progressed. Still, it’s not something I’d like to show to my viewers.

Eight ‘hi’s greet me back, each making my smile grow wider. “Sorry I’m late guys. Technical difficulties.” 

“Don’t worry.“ Rae’s voice dominates over the rest, “Corpse still isn’t here so we’re waiting for him.“

I mute myself on the Discord call and take a look at my comments. I’m most flattered by the comments about my voice. Seeing as how they don’t have much to compliment about me other than my content, they make the nicest comments about my voice, personality and humor. Those comments are the ones who warm my heart most. Even when people in my day to day life compliment my appearance I can’t find it in me to believe they are being genuine. I’d like to believe these amazing people are being one hundred percent honest when they tell me they like me for who I am and not for what I might look like.

“Sorry I’m late guys.“ A deep voice causes me to even physically jolt, switching my focus from the comments to the Among Us lobby where my eyes land on the newly materialized black avatar.

“Hi Corpse.“ Rae greets him.

“Hello mister who broke Twitter!“ Sean laughs, provoking the laughter of the rest of the players.

“Yeah, congratulations man. That’s a big deal.“ Felix chimes in.

“Thanks guys, but I think you’re forgetting we’re talking about a picture of my hand.“ Corpse chuckles timidly. I have noticed how shy he gets when someone gives him a compliment - like a snail slowly withdrawing in its shell. I find it adorable.

“That’s what makes it even better!“ I unmute my mic, sending my own congratulations.

“While we’re on that topic...“ Rae begins, waiting for the rest of us to shut our traps, suggesting she has something important to say. “Y/N, do you ever plan on doing a reveal like that? Not a face reveal. Just a body part reveal.“

I have no problem talking about the subject with friends but I get nervous when I’m supposed to discuss it with my fans. Seeing as how everyone, including myself, is streaming right now, I get a bit of a stutter in my speech. “Haven’t thought about it yet. But I guess a body part reveal is harmless.” I cringe immediately after letting the words leave my mouth, “That sounds so weird.”

Rae knows that I’m not too fond of my face, but I haven’t told her about my scar yet. I let almost all people I’ve met online think I’m using my lack of appearance for effect. For the mystery of it all. Mysteries attract people which equals attention. Attention equals views and the domino effect continues.

“Just a suggestion. No pressure.“ Rae adds quickly, knowing full well I get anxious when the subject is brought up in front of cameras. “Let’s get this game started, shall we.”

                                                          * * *

The idea dwells in my mind, sitting on the back burner even after I disconnect from the Discord call. I’m sitting in my gaming chair, which was a gift for my two million milestone, and weighing out the pros and cons of the action Rae suggested I take.

“It’s a picture of your fucking hand, dummy. How bad can it turn out?“ I say out loud, shaking my head at my indecisiveness. “You’ll be fine.”

In a blur, two pictures are already posted on my Instagram. The first one captioned ‘Took a leaf from my friend’s book. Did I do it right @ corpsehusband?’ and the second ‘Thanks, Rae. These are on you.’

Rae’s POV

As I’m watching a movie in my living room, I get a notification from Instagram, informing me that Y/N has posted for the first time in a while.

I scoff, “More like the first time in forever.”

The first thing that comes to my mind is the possibility of her reaching that three million milestone that’s been long time coming. I bring the glass of water that’s sitting on my coffee table to my lips, taking a sip as I tap the notification. The picture I see makes me hurry to put the glass back down so I don’t drop it. Y/N’s hand. Her fingers are covered with several thin rings each. And here I thought Corpse had too many rings, this girl has at least two on every finger! 

Then my eyes land on the second picture she has posted only minutes after the first and my heart drops. I struggle to get the water that’s been sitting in my moth down my esophagus while my mind is struggling with the task to comprehend the picture I’m looking at. 

Another hand is resting on top of Y/N’s. A hand also covered in rings but fewer and larger. The nails are painted black. 

I think I know who it belongs to.

Before I can even finish the thought, I’m dialing Y/N. She picks up after the second ring, sound cheery as ever as she greets me. “Hey Rae!”

“Don’t you ‘Hey Rae’ me!” I practically scream. I hate being kept in the dark about anything ever so this is just driving me mad. On top of all, she’s my best friend, for fuck’s sake. “Is that Corpse in the photo with you?!”

“Ugh....“ the cheeriness to her voice is all but gone now.

I go on with my rant, not giving her the time to reply. Not that she would reply. I bet she doesn’t know what to say. “So he knows where you live?! Or was the picture taken at his place?! He knows what you look like?! You have seen him! He has seen you in real life but me, your best friend, haven’t!!! You are breaking Covid 19 protection laws to take pictures?! Are you fucking serious, Y/N?!”

There’s a long moment of silence which frustrates me even more but I literally have run out of things to yell and the power to be angry. I mean, I still am, I just can’t express it.

“Rae, sweetheart, please calm down. You’re scary when you’re mad.“ This girl has some fucking nerve! She’s on the verge of laughing!

“Listen here you...“ 

“Rae, please stop scaring my girlfriend.“ That oh so distinguishable, oh so familiar voice interrupts me.

I am flabbergasted, for a lack of a better term.

“Now that we’ve got you quiet, I can explain.“ Y/N pics up the conversation, “Corpse and I have been dating for six, almost seven months now. We started dating around Easter after talking for quite some time. We moved in together at the end of September. All thanks to you, Rae. You’re the best.” She pauses to breathe in real quick, “There, all caught up?“

I’m in no less shock than I was before she explained. Actually, I think I might be even more confused now. It all just feels like a fever dream. “Yes...no. I don’t fucking know! I need details, Y/N!”

“Details later.“ Corpse makes his presence known once again, “We’re watching Family Guy right now. Talk to you later.“

“Love you, Rae!“ Y/N calls out before the line goes dead.

My arm goes limp, dropping my phone on the couch next to me. 

“Motherfuckers” I mumble under my breath.

Y/N’s POV

It’s been a week since Rae has stopped talking to both Corpse and me. I know she just needs some time to cool off. In the meantime, the rest of our friends were informed and, as oppose to Rae, were nothing but supportive and overjoyed. I bet Rae feels the same way though. Sean, Dave and the rest of the gang have confirmed that she’s incredibly happy for us and says she noticed a spark between me and him since day one, but she can’t help but be mad at us, and especially me, for not telling her sooner.

“Any regrets?“ I remember Corpse asking me when we hung up on her after dropping the bomb.

“Not being able to see her face when she saw the picture.“ I beam at him, feeling as content as ever.

He laughs, agreeing with me before leaning down to kiss me.

@susceptible-but-siriusexual  @simonsbluee  @save-the-sky  @hacker-ghost  @itsminniekat  @bi-andready-tocry  @imtiredaffff  @jazzkaurtheglorious  @hereforbeebo  @fandomgirl17  @chrysanthykios

[st-just]

Books I Read In February

(not counting web serials, etc)

6. Dept of Speculation by Jenny Offill

Ah finally I have found real literature! Two hundreds pages about an upper-middle class New York creative’s failing marriage!

Do kind of wonder if it’s all some sort of elaborate flex – ‘look, I’m so good at writing that I can take the most boring possible subject matter and still make it entertaining!”

I mean it was actually really readable. The book’s really very well done on the level of craft, and the whole central conceit – story told in a long series of disconnected vignettes and streams of consciousness, ranging from a paragraph to a few pages – is well done and makes reading it like eating a bowl of potato chips, kind of, if that makes sense?

But in terms of plot, or stakes, or anything else, yeah, it’s really every stereotype of litfic written by, about, and for the literati.

And I mean, I read it in two sittings (and could have been one if I hadn’t needed to get to work) and at this point almost none of it has stuck with me. So, decent, I guess? Good airport novel, except for being so short?

7. Persuasion by Jane Austen

Because it’s vaguely shameful I’m in my late 20s and haven’t read her, and I’ve already seen the Keira Knightly Pride and Prejudice so figured I’d start with something else and a blog I read mentioned it.

So, like, in terms of reading as a social activity, leaving this lying around the apartment has been the cause of more real conversations than any other book I’ve read in, like, years. Which means ‘3’, but still. You see the argument for a shared cultural canon.

So I feel slightly bad in how I probably appreciated this more as a cultural/historical artifact than, like, a story. But the descriptions of life for the minor rural gentry in early 19th century England were actually really interesting! The relationships between families, the incredibly casual attitude towards incest (between cousins, anyway), the way that basically no one without money or a respectable name was even named or directly refereed to, and how claustrophobic and small the protagonist’s social circle felt as a result, the way that no one actually did anything, and the only occupation any had previously filled was ‘naval officer’, the way that there was just absolutely nothing to do, so being given tasks and being asked to help with things/given an oppurtunity to be useful by one’s social circle was something of a compliment, the customs of hospitality, the fact that writing from 200 years ago is still perfectly readable (if with weird vocabulary) compared to Shakespeare or similar, the attitudes towards courtship and marriage, just the way people amuse themselves and spend their time. It’s all really interesting!

As a story it was, um, fine? Interestingly low on drama, honestly. Like, the love triangle resolves with the tearful confession and proposal and their just isn’t any sort of confrontation with the villain. Or any real confrontation in general, really. All the conflict is gossip, miscommunication, and Anne’s crippling internal angst. All extremely British.

8. The Causal Angel by Hannu Rajaniemi

Because someone in a discord I’m in mentioned the series and I remembered I’d never actually finished it.

Honestly this is probably my favorite of the series? Or, well, properly, the Zoku as a culture and setting are just orders of magnitude less interesting than the Oubliette or Earth were, but in terms of actual plot? Actually cashed all the checks, very satisfying.

Though, like, for all the hard sci jargon technobabble, the entire plot was racing to get the hidden gem which allows you to make a wish and rewrite the universe before the evil spirit which is wearing the Emperor’s face can seize it for itself. So, you know, genre is fake, and the fantasy/sf distinction especially so.

Anyway the book gets bonus points from me for never having anything like a romance between Jean and Mieli. Like there’s a whole conversation at one point where someone offers Jean a chance to build a new life away from all the people trying to kill him and he says he can’t because he promised to help a friend and they go ‘a friend. Sure. C’mon now.” And he just rolls his eyes and it’s never followed up on! Truly a breath of fresh air (besides, Mieli exclusively falls for girls designed from scratch by superintelligences to be attractive to her, and Jean still isn’t over the milf he once literally destroyed the world to try and impress).

But yeah, lots of fun heists and schemes and gambits, I really enjoy most of the characters, and all the scene/environment descriptions are gorgeous and trippy and I want an artbook.

...still no idea what the takeaway from the last bit of the Mars chapter was supposed to be, though.

9. Lakota American by Pekka Hämäläinen

Because I’d seen his Comanche Empire recommended a couple places, but the book store couldn’t order that for whatever reason. And I’ve been meaning to learn more North American history. Also it’s kind of comforting to go back to nonfiction where the last hundred pages are all footnotes. Feels all virtuous and edifying compared to the usual educational diet of blogs and esoteric shitposts.

(Would you believe this took me longer to get through than all the previous books in this post combined?)

Anyways, incredibly interesting book, at least if you (like me) are starting with a knowledge base of ‘Great Plains, horse nomads, buffalo, Little Bighorn’. Hämäläinen’s insistence on spending a few paragraphs repeating the book’s thesis every chapter does admittedly get annoying, but still. (Also, you do occasionally get the sense he’s laying it on a bit thick, portraying the Lakota as heroic protagonists of history. But I’m kind of chalking up to the same sort of thing where anyone who writes a good book-length biography of someone ends up either kind of in love with their subject or else viscerally loathing them).

I mean not that ‘heroic protagonists of history’ isn’t probably a useful corrective, given how much the popular imagining of most indigenous nations still consists of ‘lived harmoniously with nature in perfect stasis until white people brought History to the Americas, which consisted exclusively of their being exploited and genocided’.

The thesis, for the record, is that the Lakota as a people were unusually opportunistic and adaptable and (combined with some luck of geography and having a relatively large population) were able to not only survive migrating from the Great Lakes to the plains but genuinely thrive, making themselves one of the first intersections of the spreading technological frontiers of horses (from the south) and guns (through trading relationships brought with them) to create something like a genuine nomadic empire in the northern great plains through the in the late 18th through late 19th centuries (an empire without an emperor (or central leadership at all until conflict with the US required mass mobilization and coordination), granted).

Reading it has also left me infinitely more convinced of the correctness of that famous Sankara quote about foreign aid, though. Even at their richest and most powerful (which was really very rich and powerful!) they were entirely reliant on trading (basically exclusively buffalo products) to Europeans and Americans (and later Metis) for manufactured goods, metal tools, and guns (or just being supplied them as treaty payments, and you know with horse nomads throughout history the lines between ‘charity’, ‘payments for land/goods’, ‘political subsidies’, ‘tribute’ and ‘protection money’ are all very thin and easy to confuse), and after Little Bighorn that’s the lever the US used to break them as a military and territorial threat to white settlement, more than anything else.

Both by denying them access to those goods and encouraging the destruction of the buffalo population to leave them nothing to trade others with/subsist on on their own, I mean.

10. Children of Ruin by Adrian Tchaikovsky

Because I have an incredible soft spot for books that are clearly worldbuilding exercise first and everything else second, and Tchaikovsky really writes some of the best xenofiction I can recall. Plus I really did love Children of Time, so figured I’d give the sequel a shot even if it seemed totally needless. (and hey, now I can check off the ‘hard SF’ category on some imaginary bingo card)

And hey, despite my misgivings about where he’d go with a sequel, it worked! The story of Senkovi and the Octopuses doesn’t feel like much of a retreat of Kern and her spiders at all, and the octopuses themselves are wonderfully distinct from both the spiders and humanity in terms of how they think and express. And are just a lot of fun to spend time with. (The actual aliens are a lot of fun too, of course, though they were rather more high concept and space-opera-magic-ey than any of the earth’s descendants).

Despite not technically being aliens, Tchaikovsky's uplifted animals really do always manage to be both psychologically alien but also believably able to maintain a civilization of themselves, something that’s, like, vanishingly rare in SF write large. They’re great.

And I mentioned a bit back how these books are more Star Treky than anything I’ve seen recently, (including all the scraps of modern trek I’ve watched). By which I mean there’s just a real underlying optimistic xenophilia to them? That even the maddened computer after-image left by a myriad-old megalomaniac scientist and the alien parasites with an instinctive drive to assimilate the entire universe can be talked with, negotiated with, understood, integrated into a society that’s greater and more vibrant for their inclusion (this is, in fact, the argument that convinces the parasites, that diversity and coexistence allows for a richer and more adventurous life than merely consuming everything to understand it through recreation in your own image). And then the kind of accompanying assumption that a cosmic sort of noble curiosity is something like life’s highest calling, that given the option of course people would want to come together in a grand adventure exploring the universe. It also manages the impossible task of actually selling that hopefulness without coming off as twee or saccharine.)

It’s also kinda Star Trek-ey in ‘using an alien culture for social commentary of humans, despite also having humans right there’. I mean less so than trek, obviously, but the juxtaposition of humanity just, like, not caring* about anyone’s gender or sexuality and Fabian’s whole character arc of being a male Portid spider trying to excel and make a name for himself in a formally-equal-and-you-aren’t-literally-hunted-for-sport-anymore-but-c’mon sort of matriarchal academic environment did feel a bit on the nose.

*Like really, you know how on writing 101 boards you get guys asking how to write female characters, and sometimes the response is something like ‘just write everyone as characters, and then go back and flip a coin to see what pronouns to give people’? You could probably actually convince me that’s how the humans in this story were written. (Well, not quite. But, like, close).

11. That Time of Year by Marie NDiaye

I have zero idea how this ended up on my TBR list, except that I wanted to read some more works in translation and this was originally French. And okay maybe it’s because it’s French or something about the translation but this one’s officially too literary for me. (I mean I’m absolutely sure the translation didn’t do the dialogue any favors, at least.)

It’s an interesting concept, at least, somewhere on the edge between magical realism and outright horror, I guess? The imagery of the little village getting buried in fog and rain the day after the tourists leave, the eerie similarities of all the locals, the ghosts, it’s all really quite vivid. But even at ~150 pages it felt like there was a lot of padding and wheel-spinning. And the ending literally made me go online and make sure the library’s copy wasn’t missing some pages, somehow.

More dammingly, even short as it was it just felt like a slog to get through.

[leejihoonownsmyheart]

The Dugout

Summary:

While at a baseball game with your friend, you make an unexpected acquaintance.

Warnings: Creampie, no protection, degradation, spanking/ hitting of certain body parts

-

“Well, what do you say sweetheart? Go out on a date with me?”

You flinched as the boy in front of you took you by your wrist, tightly pulling you closer to him. You could smell the distinct aroma of pizza on his breath, and it made you regret leaving your seat at the game.

You had known better than to leave Jeonghan’s side when you went to a game with him at an rival school. The boys at this school were known for being a bit less friendly when it came to talking to girls, and you had known that. But Jeonghan had pissed you off when he told you that you “weren’t allowed to leave his side”. What gave him the right after all? You weren’t his property; you were your own person.

So, you had stormed away from him, ignoring his calls after you as you went.

You didn’t need him to escort you to the restroom. What kind of bull crap was that? “Excuse me, I don’t particularly enjoy being ignored.”

“Yeah, how dare you ignore Jeon!”

“Apologize to him you bitch!”

You were jolted roughly in three different directions, your eyes screwing shut.

Maybe next time you set your pride aside. Being safer was much better than getting yourself in stupid, easily avoidable situations like this one.

“Sorry, I just-”

You were jolted again, and you felt another one of the groupies fingers digging into your arm and you wished suddenly you were a bit stronger. If you were you could at least fight back.

Lose? Yes, since it would be five against one. But fight back, nonetheless.

You reasoned you didn’t have very many options. You could keep quiet and make a serious attempt to just go along with them and what they were asking of you. Maybe if you did then they would cool down.

Just as you thought that however you felt one of the goons push you down to your knees. You felt your knees press into the hard-concrete ground and you hissed out in surprise.

Maybe nothing would get them to cool down.

You really didn’t have any options now. You had to get out of this situation. You had to stay safe. You felt your nose scrunch in concentration.

“Look,” you mumbled. “You better let go of me… Or.. Or you’re really going to regret it.”

The guy, Jeon, or whatever laughed cruelly.

“Really and why is that?” He asked you, leaning down towards you. He clearly wasn’t impressed. Or scared or intimidated by anything that you had to say at all. You cleared your throat.

“Because,” you replied surely. “I have a boyfriend and he is not going to be happy if he finds out that you did this.”

Falling back on the existence of some sort of man was honestly the most disgusting and degrading thing that you could possibly do. You didn’t need a man to protect you, you really didn’t. But still you knew that reasoning with guys like this would be… Difficult, and the best way to overcome those difficulties would be to scare them with the one thing that could scare them.

Bigger scarier guys.

“You think I’m scared of your boyfriend?” He asked with a laugh. “Is he here? Cause I don’t see him anywhere.”

You were forced back up to your feet, unluckily by Jeon burying his fingers in your hair and pulling you up by the roots. Was it dramatic to say that didn’t hurt as much as your pride at having to lie about this whole boyfriend thing?

You absolutely didn’t have a boyfriend, and it was entirely because you didn’t want one. You hadn’t yet met a single person who treated you the way that you wanted to be treated. People were either too clingy, too protective, or not protective enough.

Yeah you wanted to be cared for just as badly as the next person but people who cared about you to the extent of say… Jeonghan trying to walk you to the bathroom… It was just ridiculous.

“Just make sure to be careful.”

My god, you were always careful. You always took care of yourself. Sometimes people truly could be suffocating.

“Well,” Jeon emphasized, ripping you from your admittedly off-track train of thoughts. “Where is he? Where’s your boyfriend who is going to save you hm?”

You looked around you quickly, your thoughts running through your mind at a million miles an hour. There weren’t a lot of people around. Some guys, some girls. You ignored the girls- they were pretending like you weren’t being attacked- and focused in on the guys. There were a few band kids- no offense to band kids but you knew they weren’t interested in being of any use to you- and then there were two other guys. One on his phone- he glanced at you, and then just as quickly glanced away.

One option. You had one option.

There was a boy standing not far from you, he had large black headphones over his ears, and his hair was tucked beneath a yellow Pledis Academy baseball cap. He was disconnected from the world, clearly occupied by whatever beats were coming from his headphones.

He had on a sweater, navy blue with yellow path work letters sewn on spelling out the word “becoming”. He had on tight white pants, but you could barely see them with how big the sweater was. It made him look even smaller, like a child. Even the palms of his hand were hidden under the sleeves.

He didn’t really look like the kind of guy these people would be scared of but… Lack of options.

Before you could really think it through you pointed at him, hoping to God he was better than these guys.

“Him, he’s my boyfriend!”

The boy, Jeon, coughed, his hands dropping from your body.

“Jihoon is your boyfriend?” He blurted. Your nose wrinkled slightly. So that was his name.

“That’s right,” you agreed, feeling a little more confident. You thought it was odd, the way the people around you all backed away. Was this Jihoon someone that they were scared of? “Should I go get him? Tell him what you guys were-”

Before you could even finish the guys were back on you again. Jeon’s hands were combing through your hair, his expression nervous.

“There’s no need for that,” he assured softly. “After all, you’re fine right?”

“Boss her knees.”

“God are you guys stupid, how could you hurt her like that?”

The boys were brushing the dust off of your clothes, making you look presentable. A girl could get used to that kind of treatment. But a question remained and… Apparently, you weren’t the only one who thought so.

The boy in question, Jihoon, turned his head, his eyebrows raising when he saw the way that Jeon and his dorkwads were treating you. He placed his hands on his headphones and lowered them to hang around his neck. The minute that the other boys realized that he could hear they freaked out.

“Jihoon, I swear it’s not what it looks like,” Jeon assured desperately. “I mean really. We never meant to mess with her. We didn’t realize that she was your girl.”

“Huh?” Jihoon asked. His gaze turned to you, and his eyes were not angry persay. Just…. Confused. Almost… Bored. Maybe that was good for you.

“Sweetheart,” you exclaimed. His eyebrows quirked at that. “I just came to find you before the game. Sorry, I got sidetracked.”

A slow, understanding smile crossed Jihoon’s face. One that honestly surprised you. You thought for sure he would leave you for dead, but instead… He took a step forward. Jeon and his goons all took a step back, as if him getting closer was an actual threat on their lives.

“You know I don’t like to be kept waiting,” Jihoon mumbled. He put a hand in his back pocket and with the other one, quirked a finger. A clear indication that he wanted you to come over.

Maybe if you were smart you wouldn’t have. But… You weren’t smart, so you- without much of a second thought- walked over to him. You wanted this to seem, well, as authentic as it possibly could so you smiled at him as you drew near.

“I missed you,” you offered, your teeth gritting as you said the words. He snorted.

“I missed you too,” he murmured. “My beautiful, beautiful girlfriend.”

He held his hand out and you stopped in your tracks, watching as he trailed his eyes up and down your body. Normally, you wouldn’t appreciate the attention, but there was something about him… You didn’t mind.

“You know, it’s been so long since I’ve seen you that I’ve practically forgotten your name.”

You laughed into the back of your hand.

“Oh, you remember,” you assured. You murmured out your name and he made a huge show, of remembering.

“Of course, of course. How could I forget?” He teased. He reached out to you again, this time clearly intent on touching you. His hand high enough to the soothe your head where Jeon had pulled it but he hesitated. He didn’t touch you without knowing that you wouldn’t mind.

You liked that. You ducked your head forward and put your hands over his wrists. You pushed his hand down until it laid flat on your head. You looked at him with a pathetic pout spread across your lips.

“That boy pulled my hair,” you pouted.

You heard Jeon suck in a horrified gasp at those words.

“I-”

“Does your head hurt?” Jihoon asked you. You nodded once, and it was enough for him. He brushed his hand down your head, caressing you ever so carefully. There was a weird moment in which he just looked at you. You weren’t sure what he was searching for but you could tell that there was something in you he was trying to find.

He looked away from you and nudged you over to his side.

You wondered if he found what he was looking for.

“Jihoon, we’re so unbelievably sorry,” Jeon insisted, drawing your attention back over to him. You covered your mouth as you watched him drop to his knees before the guy. Jihoon snickered next to you, and it made you look over at him. You were surprised when you found that he wasn’t looking at Jeon, but at you with a distinct smirk on his lips. You raised an eyebrow at him and he turned his attention back towards Jeon.

“Get out of my sight while I’m still feeling generous,” he replied pointedly. Without another word, Jeon scrambled to his feet and rushed away. You watched as him and the other guys stumbled off, leaving nothing but dust in their wake. You tried not to laugh too hard as they ran off and once, they were gone all you could do was deflate in relief.

“Well, thank you for that,” you mumbled. You pulled away from him and thoughtfully brushed yourself off. Suddenly, you had an uneasy feeling about being here alone with this Jihoon character. Those girls who you didn’t think could care about what you were doing, were uneasily glancing your way.

You thought about the fear in Jeon’s eyes and you wondered what this boy could’ve possibly be doing that made everyone so scared of him.

But you didn’t wonder too much.

You pushed your hands into your back pocket.

“Alright, nice to meet you, thank you. I should just be going then-” You began to wander away from Jihoon, but before you could make it very fair, Jihoon had scoffed.

“What you think you can just claim to be my girlfriend and just walk away?” Jihoon asked you. He dipped his head a little bit to look at you better, his eyebrows high on his forehead. He murmured your name, it like a whisper on his lips. “I sure would like to get to know you better.”

You felt color raise to your cheeks, but you didn’t bother hiding it.

“I mean, I really out to…” You trailed off nervously. “Get back to my friend… He’ll miss me if I don’t.”

Jihoon stepped towards you once again and held out his hand.

“The game doesn’t start for another while,” he mumbled. “You’re not from around, here right?”

He paused but you knew he wasn’t done speaking. You nervously cleared your throat and shook your head. Unable to explain the sudden fluttering of butterflies in the pit of your stomach. When had you lost your confidence? When had you become so shy of what Jihoon was going to do around you?

After all, you had trusted him to save you from those boys so why were you so nervous now?

“I really wouldn’t mind staying around,” you assured softly, brushing your hair back out of your face, despite the fact that you had been really wanting to hide your face in those strands of hair. “But my friend really would worry. He-”

“Ah,” Jihoon interrupted unsurely. He placed his hands back over his headphones. “I get it. You either have a boyfriend, or you just don’t want to do anything.”

Your mouth dropped and he shrugged.

“I should’ve known. After all you’re too pretty to be single.”

You were surprised that Jihoon was actually going to leave you at that revelation. You watched in pure shock as he began to pull his headphones back over his ears, turning away from you.

You felt your heart skip a beat, something about the way that the two of you had acted together not long ago. Something about the way that Jihoon treated you despite you being a total stranger. He was taking you seriously. No one ever took you seriously.

“Wait-” You called. He paused, shifting his headphone’s slightly so that he could hear you, but not turning his body to face you again. “What if I said I didn’t have a boyfriend?”

Jihoon glanced at you, an eyebrow raising.

“Yeah?” he asked you, a glint suddenly sparkling in his eye.

“Well, it’d be unfair if I didn’t repay you somehow. So, what do you say? You want me to buy you food or something before the game?”

Jihoon stared at you, his posture back to what it had been when addressing those guys before. He was once again making himself seem so much bigger than he was in reality, putting on that tough exterior that you assumed had to be the reason those other guys were so scared ohim.

“You don’t go to Pledis University, do you?” Jihoon observed. You raised an eyebrow at him which he took as answer enough. “So how did you learn my name?”

“I pointed at you and Jeon supplied the rest,” you replied with a shrug. “Why- Should I know your name?”

Jihoon stared at you thoughtfully for a long moment, seeming to access what you were saying. Then after a while he smiled.

“No, you shouldn’t,” he decided. “And I think I have an idea better than just getting hot dogs.”

He held out his hand for you to take, raising a curious eyebrow towards you.

“Tell me, how crazy are you exactly?”

Your lips turned up into a mischievous smile, placing your hand in his without hesitation.

“Lead the way Mr. Jihoon.”

“Oh, I like it when you call me that,” Jihoon stated with a wink.

-

You looked around the old dugout, your eyebrows raising.

“You know, it’s surprisingly tidy in here,” you commented. “When you said Old Dugout, I was expecting something more like high school. Cobwebs and used condoms.”

“Well, University is different you know? Cleaner- and no one uses condoms,” Jihoon replied teasingly.

You chuckled at his joke and let your head fall to the side with a smile.

“You would think people would be smarter with a higher education,” you mumbled. You let your back fall against the wall, and you shrugged off-handedly. The action made Jihoon’s eyes fluttered down to your breasts. “But I guess some people just can’t be taught.”

Before you could say another word Jihoon was closing the distance between you two. He pressed his hand squarely on your shoulder, pressing you against the brick wall his other hand coming up to your cheek as he pulled you in for a rough kiss.

The action didn’t surprise you, but it did send a thrill of excitement running through your body. You felt yourself hook your leg around Jihoon’s and you pulled him closer to you with fistfuls of your hands in his shirt.

As he kissed you, his mouth rough and possessive over your lips, you felt yourself grinding down on his leg, desperate for more contact then the little bit he was already giving you.

It wasn’t often that you found yourself craving another person’s touch like this but there was something about Jihoon that made you feel like you were empty, and you were hot, and you were horny. And Jihoon was the only cure for your sudden ailment.

He seemed to sense this because he chuckled against your lips. He hooked his thumb into your mouth between your lips and forcefully pushed you back against the wall. You huffed at the loss, but he just looked on at you in amusement.

“Who would’ve known from a glance that you were so...” He trailed off, seeming to try and find the right word to describe you.

“Horny?” You suggested. The corner of his lip quirked up.

“I was going to say impatient,” Jihoon mumbled back. “But horny also covers it quite well.”

You opened your mouth to protest, but Jihoon didn’t mind the action. Instead he popped his thumb from between your lips and gave you a teasing look.

“Undress.”

You didn’t have to be told twice.

As Jihoon took a seat on the bench you pulled your shirt over your head and toed yourself right out of your shorts. You went to remove the rest of your clothes, but a click of disapproval from Jihoon made you pause and look over at him instead.

The look you received at such unwavering attention, sent even more heat through your body. He patted his spread legs and you wandered over to him, carefully positioning yourself in his lap, your hands on his shoulders.

“You are very obedient,” he murmured. You snorted.

“Not always,” you retorted. “I’m just in a good mood today.”

Jihoon hummed at your response, but you could tell he wasn’t really listening to you. He raised his hands to your sides and began to run his fingers along your soft skin. He started from just above your hips. Four of his fingers tracing up your ribs, to the elastic of your bra. His fingers stopped there and followed instead along the cloth of your fabric until he slipped his hands up under your bra.

He cupped your breasts in his hands, pushing your bra up your chest as he did so, giving you a small squeeze. A surprised moan left your lips- an action that made Jihoon’s eyes shot up to yours.

“Do that again,” he said, looking and sounding completely in awe. You rolled your eyes.

“Well, you have to give me-” Before you could finish Jihoon had smacked one of your breasts sharply.

You hissed out a moan, your fingers digging into Jihoon’s shoulders.

“Hey,” you murmured. “What makes you think that I’m into that?”

Jihoon shrugged, his fingers tracing around the breast that he had just smacked, smoothing it over with the pads of his fingers as if to soothe it.

“I just know,” he replied. “I mean am I wrong?”

You let out a disgruntled noise, not really wanting to admit to some guy you had just met that “you enjoyed how rough he was being with you. His other fingers squeezed the tit of your other breasts and he twisted it between his fingers making you whine.

“You’re not wrong,” You admitted. Jihoon hummed at you, but his eyes remained on his hands as they cupped your breasts again. He gave you another squeeze. “Satisfied?”

“Very,” he stated back. “Just wanted to hear you admit it.”

You squinted your eyes at him, and finally he raised his eyes back to yours. His lips had fallen into a thin line of concentration as he had messed with your breasts, but as he looked at you they slowly reformed a smile. His hands crept up your body, brushing past your collar bones and up to your neck, where he tightly wrapped his fingers around your throat.

His thumbs forced your chin up ever so slightly, and he gave you a small squeeze. You sucked in a shocked breath at the action, hating the way that your panties grew damper just at the touch.

“I like it when you tell me stuff like that,” he murmured. “Do you want me to take control? Use you?”

You didn’t waste a second this time.

“Fuck,” you murmured. “Yes, please.”

He leaned forward, his lips brushing yours.

“You want me to hurt you?” He asked.

You sucked in another sharp breath at the question. A question that you never thought anyone would ever ask you. You were so used to people treating you like glass- assuming that the slightest touch would break you.

So, having Jihoon treat you as if that weren’t so in the slightest was both surprising, and a huge turn on.

“Please hurt me,” you murmured back.

One of Jihoon’s hands loosened its grip around your neck and he dropped it down to your pussy. He slipped his fingers under your panties, and pressed a finger into your warm wet heat.

You let out a surprised gasp, prompting Jihoon to tighten his grip on your throat. You choked around his fingers and rolled your hips down on his hand. You thought he might be annoyed at that but instead his fingers loosened around you, and he pulled your face down closer to his.

“So, I’m guessing you already know that I’m planning on fucking you?” He asked you. You rolled your hips down on his hand again.

“And I’m guessing you already know that I’m highly encouraging such actions?”

You cheekily reached up, plucking Jihoon’s hat right from his head. He looked surprised by the action, but you didn’t mind. You put the hat on your head and smiled.

“You’re wearing too much,” you mumbled. He raised his eyebrows.

“I’m already mostly naked,” he murmured despite it not being even remotely true. He grabbed you loosely by your hips and pulled you closer to him. You nearly yelped at the action, worried that he would drop you, but luckily enough he had a good grip on you. “But I’ll admit, you look way better in that hat then I ever have.”

You smiled again, your tongue peeking out from between your teeth, but before you could say anything back to him, he was focused on your body once again. He reached behind your back and unhooked your bra. You let it fall off your arms and onto the floor before grabbing Jihoon’s shirt.

“Take your clothes off,” you insisted with a grumble. Jihoon didn’t complain as you pulled off his shirt and began to make quick work of his pants. Instead he watched in amusement as you climbed off of him to help work him free of the clothing.

Once his pants and boxers had finally fallen to the ground, Jihoon’s fingers loosely knotted themselves in your hair. He tightened his grip and pulled you roughly flush against his body. You gasped but didn’t complain as his cock poked against your leg.

“You’re a little whore,” he said observantly. It felt like it was a little random, but you didn’t mention that. Instead you smiled loosely and let your hand wrap around his cock.

“Maybe I am,” you admitted slyly. “And how do you treat little whores?”

“Just the way that they like to be treated.”

He pushed you down to your knees, gripping your hair tightly. He didn’t give yo ua single warning as he pushed his cock into your mouth. Didn’t even stop halfway so that you could get used to his girth. You splayed your hands over his waist, gagging around the cock hard.

But despite how hard you gagged he did nothing to pull you off of him- not that you signaled for him to do such a thing anyways. No the longer he held you on his cock, the more he triggered you to cough more saliva over his dick the more that you felt heat rushing to your center.

You were embarrassed to admit that already, just being used by this man was a turn on. Jihoon seemed to notice this and he laughed as he pulled you off his cock.

“Did that turn you on?” He teased you lightly. You tried to lean forward and put his cock back into your mouth- as a way to escape his question, but he caught you quickly, shaking his head slowly back and forth as he clicked his tongue.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer,” he growled. “When a stranger makes you choke on his cock on a baseball field, do you get turned on?”

You weren’t sure how it was possible that the question had gotten worse after being asked a second time, but you knew for a fact that it was worse.

“Okay, yes, I’m absolutely fucking drenched for you...” You trailed off, batting your eyelids innocently at Jihoon. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

Jihoon hummed lightly.

“No... But I think it is what I wanted to feel.”

His fingers wandered down to your pussy, at first just teasing you by dancing around your clit, and your whole. He dipped his fingers between your folds and massaged you there for a moment, still somehow missing the spots you needed him to be at the most.

You grunted.

“You’re such a tease,” you mumbled. “Why don’t you just get to fucking me?”

“Be patient,” Jihoon shushed. “It’s my first time being between your legs- maybe my last. I have to treasure this moment.”

His eyes focused in on your wet pussy, his thumb pulling a side one of the folds further down, probably so that he could see your hole better.

“And your pussy... It truly is gorgeous. You’re already so wet and creamy for me and I have hardly even touched you... How long has it been since you last had sex with someone?” He asked. Then he paused, his head tilting to the side. “No- Actually let’s not talk about that. Let’s just focus on-”

He leaned forward, and finally his warm tongue met your pussy. You whined as he licked a long strip, and he too moaned.

“You taste almost as gorgeous as you sound,” he mumbled softly. You wanted to give him a sarcastic response but before you managed it he had wrapped his arms tightly around your legs bringing you so close to him, that his nose bumped your clit- and he was eating you out.

You had pretty much never been eaten out before.

Especially not by someone who was so good with their tongue. You felt your fingers bury themselves in Jihoon’s long strand, tugging on them hard as he pushed his tongue into your pussy, his moans vibrating against you in a way that was nearly overbearing.

You kept thinking that soon enough his little “pregame” would pass and he would want you back on his cock again, but to your surprise no such thing came.

Instead, one of his fingers lowered to your pussy, probing at your entrance.

At first it seemed like he didn’t think it would fit. Pushing the tip in and then pulling it out a moment later to get some wetness. But he soon seemed to decide that his hesitations were all unworth it. He pushed his finger deep into you alongside his tongue. The digit made you feel incredible. An action you couldn’t believe made you moan the way that it did.

You had never been so completely desperate for another person before in your life. Your thighs trembled as he worked his finger in and out of you, and you resisted the urge to pull on Jihoon’s hair hard enoguh to make him stop.

Cause holy hell, you did not want him to stop. “I need more,” you mumbled between your pants. Jihoon chuckled and the vibrations made you bite out a loud moan.

“You want more?” Jihoon asked teasingly. He slid a second finger into your dripping pussy, and smiled mischeaviously up at you from between your legs. You whined, your hips wiggling at the feeling of his fingers sliding in and out of you. God, he knew that wasn’t what you wanted. You wanted... No you didn’t just want his cock. You needed his cock.

You needed to have Jihoon’s body close to you, you needed to have his cock deep inside of you. You wanted to feel him pound you and treat you like a real whore.

You tugged at Jihoon’s hair, a frustrated expression surely on your face.

“Jihoon-”

“Oh even more then that?” He asked you. He slid a third finger into your pussy and you literaally had to arch your back you felt so close to cumming. Your toes curled and you leaned forward, your fingers tightening in a way you knew that you shouldn’t. You pulled his head up to you and met his eyes.

“Jihoon I need you to fuck me, and I need you to fuck me now.”

Jihoon’s eyes turned dark, and his fingers pulled out of your pussy. You knew immediately that you had made a mistake when you felt him tighten his grip on your hip. You closed your mouth as Jihoon raised his fingers to your lips.

“Open back up you whore, and clean these off for me,” he instructed. You were quick to open your mouth for him, waiting patiently as he slid his fingers into your mouth. You began to lick his fingers clean, moaning as you tasted yourself on his fingers.

“Now, do you think it’s very good behavior to pull my hair and tell me what to do?” He asked, his voice dark. A shiver ran down your spine.

“No,” you breathed.

He nodded slowly.

“So, you were just bad on purpose?”

Your face flamed red, and you opened your mouth, stammering to come up with an answer.

“Not a very good slut are you?” Jihoon asked. He pushed you back on the bench, his hand slapping your thigh sharply so that you would open your legs further. Then his fingers wrapped around your waist, his fingers digging into your side. “You’re desperate, and impatient.”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear.

“I love that about you.”

You screamed as Jihoon thrust his cock into you in one hard thrust. It sent a sharp feeling of pain through your body, but the pain was quickly clouded by the immense pleasure of having Jihoon inside of you.

Jihoon’s eyes rose to you, his smile was downright devious.

“Does that satisfy your needs?” He asked you. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could get an answer out Jihoon slid himself out of you and thrusted hard back into you. You found yourself only capable of panting and squirming as Jihoon fucked you so hard that the entire bench was squeaking under the pressure.

You threw your arms over Jihoon’s body, tugging yourself closer to him. The feeling of his skin against yours was nearly intoxicating. It made you wish that you could hold him even closer. You wanted so badly to be this close to Jihoon forever.

He thrust hard into you again, making you yelp aloud in surprise. You felt your fingernails digging into Jihoon’s back, which made him grunt out in pleasure.

“F-fuck, please, I need m-more,” you moaned out. Jihoon chuckled.

“God, you little whore, are you really that turned on being fucked in a dugout by a stranger,” Jihoon grunted out. You whined at the names and wrapped your legs around Jihoon’s waist.

“Flip me, I want to ride you,” you murmured. Jihoon didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once you two were situated you wrapped your legs more tightly around Jihoon’s chest, whining at the way his cock sunk deeper inside of you at that angle. You placed your hands on his shoulders and began to slowly lift yourself up on his cock, and then lower yourself back down on it.

Jihoon’s fingers dug deep into your hips, his grip on you so tight that it made you wonder if you were really the one that was in control of your pace at the moment.

You began to quicken your speed, lifting yourself faster and faster, listening to the sound of your thighs slap against his. Jihoon slapped your ass as you fucked yourself, his lips attaching to your neck as he whispered obscenities to you between leaving kisses on your neck.

“Pl-Please don’t leave any marks,” you hissed as he nipped at you near your collarbone. “Jeonghan will kill-”

Before you could finish the sentence Jihoon had flipped you two back over, throwing you back down on the bench so hard you thought for sure you were going to bruise. He pushed his ockc back in your body and began to furiously fuck you again, his pace so fast that you were shocked that you were still feeling so much overwhelming pleasure.

“Ji-Jiho-”

“Talk about a man again while I’m fucking you,” Jihoon warned. As he spoke he lowered his hand down to your cunt, his fingers finding your clit. He pressed down on it and began to frantically rub at it- somehow matching the pace of his own thrusts.

You cried out in pleasure and once again wrapped your arms around him.

“Pl-please Jihoon, c-cum,” you blurted out, not even caring about how angry Jihoon had gotten simply at the mention of Jeonghan’s name. You could feel pleasure coiling in your gut, you were too close to cumming to care about anything but your own explosive pleasure. You needed to cum, and you needed to cum now.

“Inside, cum inside me, I’m on the pill it’s okay just please-”

And before you had even finished talking Jihoon began to cum spurts into you. In seconds you were cumming undone, each thrust of his making you feel like you were starting your orgasm all over again, you felt so good. Your fingers dug into Jihoon’s arms as he fucked you almost relentlessly until he finally bottomed out inside of you, his chest heaving.

“That is a good little slut,” he praised.

He sat there for a few moments, just taking the time to catch his breath. He was sweating pretty hard- not that you were surprised by that revelation at all. Finally, Jihoon pulled out of you, humming softly as he watched his own cum dribbling out from your used cunt.

“I shouldn’t have come inside of you,” he mumbled softly.

“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” you agreed. “But I wanted it so bad, and it felt-” You leaned forward, your lips brushing against Jihoons. “So good.”

Jihoon groaned, and pulled away from you.

“I don’t have time to fuck you again before the game,” Jihoon mumbled as he began to redress. You pouted.

“What so you’re just gonna use me like some kind of cum dumpster and leave?”

Jihoon snickered.

“Yep.”

You rolled up and grabbed your bra, instinctively turning away from Jihoon as you began to get dressed. You looked back over your shoulder at him and smiled.

“Damn, you really are a dream aren’t you?” You asked, your tongue between your teeth. Jihoon snickered and slid his shirt over his head.

“So, are you still going to the game?” He asked you. You shrugged.

“My friend will kill me if I don’t go,” you replied. He hummed, and replaced his hat over his head.

“Well I have to get back to the field, just... Promise me one thing,” he asked. You turned to him as you pulled your own shirt over your head.

“Yeah?”

“Root for me, won’t you?”

And then without another word he turned and left you alone.

-

“Where’ve you been?” Jeonghan asked you. “I was starting to get worried.”

You scoffed and held up the lollipop that Jihoon had given you as a parting gift. You could hear his words still echoing through your mind. “Root for me won’t you?” Root for him. A strange way to word it.

“Got sidetracked,” you replied briefly, waving the lollipop through the air and tipping your baseball cap pointedly. He hummed, giving you a slight narrowing of the eyebrows before gesturing down towards the field.

“Well you are lucky. The team is just now coming out.”

You didn’t bother looking down, you didn’t care to see the boys after all. There was a certain sort of euphoria running through your body. A certain excitement at what you had just gotten away with. At the idea of Lee Jihoon.

Oh, how you already missed him. His hands on you, that stupid mischievous smirk. You had never felt yourself so infatuated with someone so quickly and yet… Jihoon, you missed Jihoon.

You heard the crowd cheering as the baseball team came running on and you leaned back, looking at the candy in your hand. It was so sweet, you quite enjoyed the taste.

You looked up finally, and you noticed one of the boys on the field scanning the audience. Everyone else had begun to do their stretches and prepare for the game but one boy, shorter than the rest was looking up. You two made eye contact, and he smiled, and ruffled his hair with his hand putting a little and making a big show of the way that the sun was beaming down on him. You tried not to laugh at the look spread over his face.

Jihoon was on the other team’s baseball team.

“Strange.”

You jumped and glanced over at Jeonghan, your eyebrows raised high.

“What? What’s strange?” You blurted. He didn’t laugh, just stared in confusion at the field.

“It almost looks like Lee Jihoon is looking at you,” he mumbled. “But that’d be crazy.”

“Lee Jihoon?” You questioned, keeping a straight face. “Who?”

“He is famous at Pledis Academy. Short in stature, but scarier than anyone else there. They say that those who double cross him have died. That his father is a mob boss, and that messing with him or anyone in his life is a fate worse than sin,” Jeonghan recounted. The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine and you looked back down at the field. Jihoon was still staring at you, a knowing expression on his face.

“Is that really true?” You asked him, your voice a hushed whisper, afraid to even glance away from Jihoon.

“That’s what they say,” Jeonghan responded. “Being under Jihoon’s radar has to be a death sentence.”

You supposed that when you had seen Jihoon, something in you had known that he was dangerous. You could remember the way he held onto you, how he spoke to you, the way he looked at you. And yet, even knowing that he was potentially dangerous you didn’t care.

Being with Jihoon had been fun, and you could tell that while he may want to hurt you in some ways, it was only the ways that you wanted to be hurt by him.

You wiggled in your seat, and raised your hand to Jihoon in greeting from across the field. Lucky for you, Jeonghan didn’t notice. Jihoon smiled and raised his hand back and then turned to one of his teammates. Jeonghan shook his head in disbelief.

“You’re going to be careful right? It really seems like Jihoon is looking at you.”

You shrugged.

“I’ll be careful, but I doubt there is anything to worry about.”

[a-dragons-journal]

i dont "kin for fun" but through tiktok i found out about the whole kin for fun vs actual otherkin... situation ig? im having a really hard time taking it seriously... maybe im just burnt out and bitter from dealing with the worlds current events, and maybe its because on tiktok the only people i saw mad about it were white people, but you're the most reasonable person ive seen talking about it (a lot of other posts have this odd tone that 12 year olds on tiktok saying kin is the worlds greatest opression and it weirds me out) so ig my question is just... why exactly does this matter? why does it matter enough to post about and care about and not just ignore? /gen

Hey! I don’t blame you for being a bit weirded out by it, we’re a weird subculture and we’re well aware of it! xD I appreciate you taking the time to actually look into it past your first knee-jerk reaction, especially considering burnout and the state of things.

I’m not totally sure if you’re asking why otherkinity matters or why the “kin for fun” being wrong matters, so I’ll answer both - they’re pretty well tied together anyway.

The short version:

Otherkinity is an identity. It’s who we are, we can’t choose to pick it up or put it down, and it comes with struggles - though no, ‘kin are not systematically oppressed (though we are pretty badly bullied and, at this point, pushed out of our own words and spaces).

What people calling roleplay/relating to/projecting onto characters “kinning for fun” does is steal our words, make them meaningless, and in doing so, make it difficult or impossible for us to find each other. If someone says “I kin [x],” I no longer know whether they mean “I am [x] on an intrinsic level” or “haha I relate to this character a lot”. I no longer know whether they actually share my experiences or if they’re going to turn on me and call me “crazy” as soon as they realize I’m not exaggerating or joking or roleplaying. It’s done massive harm to the community as a whole because it’s become difficult to tell whether someone is actually ‘kin or if they’ve misunderstood the whole thing - and because antikin rhetoric, which I’m seeing more and more in KFF spaces, hurts far more when it’s coming from inside what you thought was a community space than when it’s coming from self-labeled “antikin.”

There are other words for roleplaying and relating to and projecting onto characters. Hell, there are words for strongly identifying with-but-not-as characters/things, though usually KFF people don’t even seem serious enough for those to fit in my experience. I’m really not sure why these people are so determined to steal and misuse our words, words that were specifically created to mean something else, when they already have their own and are just refusing to use them. (Or, hell, if you don’t feel like those fit, make your own. We did. It’s your turn to put in the work. (General you, not you-the-anon, of course.))

An analogy, if that still doesn’t quite land for you:

Consider, for a moment, the transgender community. I am aware this is a dangerous thing to say, but bear with me. Obvious CW for hypothetical transphobia up ahead is obvious.

Consider if you were part of the trans community (I don’t know if you are or not), having finally found a word to explain why you feel the way you do about yourself, why your experiences don’t seem to match up with those of everyone else around you. Having found a community, a home, full of other people like you, people you never would have met if not for words like “transgender” and “gender dysphoria/euphoria” that were created specifically to describe your experiences.

Now consider if people suddenly stumbled across your community for the first time who were not trans themselves. They see community jokes and lighthearted posts out of context, because Tumblr and Twitter aren’t exactly conducive to making sure people find the Transgender 101 information posts first. They don’t bother to do further research, assuming they understand: ah, these people like to crossdress! They like to pretend they’re a different gender! This seems like a fun hobby, I want in!

They begin to post things like this. They post photos of them crossdressing and caption them “hi, I’m [name], and I trans men!” and things of the like. Suddenly the concept of “transing for fun” seems to be everywhere - and it’s not at all what being trans actually is, but these people either don’t know or don’t care. When actual trans people try to politely correct them, they’re accused of “gatekeeping” - and to be clear, this is not “nonbinary people aren’t real,” it’s “transgender means you identify as a gender other than the one you were assigned at birth, and you’re self-identifying as the gender you were assigned at birth 100% and telling us this is just a fun hobby for you, therefore you’re not trans, you’re crossdressing or doing drag or being GNC. That’s fine, but it’s not being trans - you have other words to describe that, use those.”

(Yes, I am aware these things have a history with the trans community - please just ignore that for the sake of the analogy and bear with me on the slightly simplified version of this. “Kinning for fun” does not have that same history with the otherkin community.)

...And then the response to those attempted corrections, in some corners, turns into “wait, you ACTUALLY think you’re another gender? idk that sounds pretty unhealthy, maybe you should see a psychologist or something :\” and “you’re taking this too seriously.”

I imagine, in this hypothetical scenario, you’d also be pretty fuckin peeved.

(Obviously, in this hypothetical scenario, systematic transphobia would be an issue as well, which isn’t the case for otherkin - again, you’re gonna have to bear with me on the simplification for sake of analogy there.)

(EDIT: this is not an anti-MOGAI/exclusionist argument, this is “you’re literally telling me you don’t fit the definition,” explanation on that here)

The long version, which is probably still worth reading if you have the time and energy:

Otherkinity is... pretty core to who I am, who we as a group of individuals are. We live with being otherkin on a daily basis. Many of us spent a long time feeling different and disconnected and not understanding why until we found the otherkin community. Even people like me, who don’t share that experience and still had social connection - I’ve still had to live with weird differences that I had to learn to mask when necessary; instincts that don’t line up with human society well, feeling body parts that weren’t there and that no one else ever seemed to have, things that other kids grew out of because it was just make-believe for them and I... didn’t, because it was never make-believe for me to begin with. Oh, sure, I played make-believe too - I played warrior cats and house and all those things with the other kids, but there were things that weren’t play-pretend for me too. I didn’t have an explanation for it for a long time - it was just how I was, I was weird, and fortunately for me personally I was okay with that (many of those with species dysphoria or more trouble connecting with humans have more problems from that than I did).

And then I found the word “otherkin.” And suddenly everything fell into place, and I had an explanation for the things I’d been experiencing, and there were other people like me. Something I’d assumed didn’t exist. I found others who shared my unique experiences, who were talking about how to cope with the instinct to growl or snap jaws at people instead of expressing annoyance in a human way instead of just saying “that’s weird, don’t do that”, who were talking about dealing with phantom wings and tails, who understood me. I wasn’t weird, I wasn’t broken, I was exactly what one would expect from a dragon living in human skin. I found an explanation for myself. I found a home.

That is why otherkinity matters - it is who we are, it’s not something we can walk away from (certainly not most of us, anyway), and it’s something many of us need the support of the community to help deal with on a daily basis. Being a nonhuman in human society isn’t always easy, but it’s not something we can just magically stop being - it’s core to who we are, we (generally) didn’t choose to be this way, and we (generally) can’t choose to stop. Which is fine - the vast majority of us can cope with it just fine, with a little advice and help and space to be our authentic selves in. We found each other, we built this community from the ground up to make a space and words to make finding each other easier - or possible at all.

Thus we come to the second half of our story.

It was only a couple of years ago that the “kin for fun” trend started getting big. It had existed before that, of course, but it only started going mainstream two, maybe three years ago, from what I can tell. Suddenly people were treating “kin” like it meant relating to, projecting onto, roleplaying as, or just really really liking a character or thing - not being that thing, which is what it actually means. Not long after that, it became hard to tell whether someone saying “I kin this” meant they were that thing, that they were actually part of our community - or that they really really liked that thing and either didn’t know or couldn’t be bothered to learn that that wasn’t the case for us.

Not long after that, it became relatively commonplace to hear phrases like “otherkin are ruining kinning!!” and “you’re taking this too seriously” and “idk, if it’s that serious for you that sounds unhealthy. maybe you should get some help :\” (all directly quoted, or as exactly quoted as I can remember, from things KFF people have said to me or people I know).

It is a special kind of hell, I think, to be told “you’re taking this too seriously, that’s unhealthy” by people who are taking words created to describe your experiences, not theirs, and misusing them to mean something that you do for fun on a weekend instead of something that’s intrinsic to your being.

Perhaps more importantly, like I’ve said, it’s making it almost impossible to know whether someone who says “I kin [x]” is actually ‘kin or if they’re misusing our words to mean something else entirely. The entire point of words is to communicate ideas, and once you start misusing words to mean something totally different than what they actually mean, that communication falls apart and suddenly we might as well not have those words at all. Especially when the community is small enough and obscure enough that we’re starting to be outnumbered by the misinformation. We’re being run out of our own words, words we created to describe our experiences specifically - because we’re a small community that the wider internet can easily drown out by sheer numbers of people who either don’t know any better or don’t care to learn.

That’s the harm it does - the harm it is doing, right now. That’s why it’s important enough to post about. That’s why it matters - because we’re fighting desperately to hang onto our own words so that others like us can actually find us. Because we’re seeing young nonhumans go “this isn’t a kin, I actually am this” and screaming “No, I’m so sorry that this is what the misinformation has done to you, that’s exactly what otherkin means, you have a place here, please don’t let these non-’kin misusing our words drive you away from the very community you’re looking for and that you belong in.” Because we can’t even communicate effectively about our own experiences anymore except in semi-closed spaces like Discord servers and forums (and the number of Discord servers overrun with KFF people is absurd).

......This got very long. Hopefully it at least explained why it matters so much to me and others a bit better ^^; Thanks for hearing me out, and thank you again for looking into this beyond your initial knee-jerk reaction - I really do appreciate it.

(For further reading, if that text wall didn’t blow you out of the water completely, I recommend my “kin for fun” tag, which has more posts like this in both short and long form.)