#He keeps trying to find a balance in his life but it won't happen

[hajihiko]

for what it's worth, japanese stereotypes about masculinity are very different from western ones. in japan, being more masculine is equated with being attracted to masculinity. big buff hairy guys are more "gay" than the more "feminine" type. for example, "bara" manga (the type of BL with huge beefy dudes). that's why nekomaru is often interpreted as gay; he's the japanese equivalent of a walking talking gay stereotype. and his relationship with akane is sort of portrayed like "haha look at this guy who never demonstrates sexual attraction towards Big Boobie Lady." :3 thought you might find this interesting re: your post abt fuyuhiko

I do think that for Fuyuhiko specifically it's a bit more complex; he does, despite being Yakuza, embody a lot of Italian mafia elements, so I imagine his background might be rather multicultural. He's not bishie handsome enough to be a classic Japanese boy love interest, but he's too small and feminine to be a more European boy darling.

#I also feel like. ok yeah Nekomaru is a stereotype #That doesnt mean he IS the stereotype. Someone told me Nekomaru is canonically gay BC #'hes the bara archetype' ok he can still be. Bi? Pan? Who cares? Not directed at u anon just a thought #Even more confusing for fuyu if he's too feminine in one region and not in another #He keeps trying to find a balance in his life but it won't happen

[inkskinned]

she's three years younger than i am, and i put on cascada as a throwback, cackling - before your time! i've been borrowing my brother's car, and it's older than dirt, so the trunk is like, maybe permanently locked. when the sun comes through the window to frame her cheekbones, i feel like i'm 16 again. i shake when i'm kissing her, worried i won't get it right.

in 2003, my state made gay marriage legal. where she grew up, it wasn't legal until 11 years later - 10 years ago. if legal protections for gay marriage were a person, that person would be entering 5th grade. online, a white gay man calls the fight for legal marriage boring, which isn't kind of him but it is a common enough opinion.

it has only been 9 years since gay marriage was nationally official. it is already boring to have gay people in your tv. it is already boring to mention being gay - "why make it your entire personality?" i know siblings that have a larger age gap than the amount of time it's been legally protected. i recently saw a grown man record himself crying about how evil gay people are. he was begging us, red in the face - just do better.

i am absolutely ruined any time my girlfriend talks about being 27 (i know!! a child!), but we actually attended undergrad at the same time since i had taken off time to work between high school and college. while walking through the city, we drop our hands, try not to look too often at each other. the other day i went to an open mic in a basement. the headlining comedian said being lesbian isn't interesting, but i am a lesbian, if you care. as a joke, she had any lesbian raise their hand if present. i raised mine, weirdly embarrassed at being the single hand in a sea of other faces. she had everyone give me a round of applause. i felt something between pride and also throwing up.

sometimes one thing is also another thing. i keep thinking about my uncle. he died in the hospital without his husband of 35 years - they were not legally wed, so his husband could not enter. this sounds like it should be from 1950. it happened in 2007. harassment and abuse and financial hardship still follow any person who is trying to get married while disabled. marriage equality isn't really equal yet.

and i don't know that i can ever put a name to what i'm experiencing. sometimes it just feels... so odd to watch the balance. people are fundamentally uninterested in your identity, but also - like, there's a whole fucking bastion of rabid men and women who want to kill you. your friends roll their eyes you're gay we get it and that is funny but like. when you asked your father do you still love me? he just said go to your room. you haven't told your grandmother. disney is on their 390th "first" gay representation, but also cancelled owl house and censored the fuck out of gravity falls. you actively got bullied for being gay, but your advisor told you to find a different gimmick for your college essay - everyone says they're gay these days.

once while you were having a hard day you cried about the fact that the reason our story is so fucking boring to so many people is that it is so similar. that it is rare for one of us to just, like, have a good experience across the board. that our stories often have very parallel bends - the dehumanization, the trauma, the trouble with trusting again. these become rote instead of disgusting. how bad could it be if it is happening to so many people?

i kiss my girlfriend when nobody is looking. i like her jawline and how her hands splay when she's making a joke. there is nothing new about this story, sappho. i love her like opening up the sun. like folding peace between the layers of my life, a buttercream of euphoria, freckles and laughter and wonder.

my dad knows about her. i've been out to him since i was 18 - roughly four years before the supreme court would protect us. the other day he flipped down the sun visor while driving me to the eye doctor. "you need to accept that your body was made for a husband. you want to be a mother because you were made for men, not women." he wants me to date my old high school boyfriend. i gagged about it, and he shook his head. he said - "don't be so dramatic. you can get used to anything."

the other day a straight friend of mine snorted down her nose about it, accidentally echoing him - she said there are bigger problems in this world than planning a wedding.

#splled ink #writeblr #it's really hard to describe what im feeling

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Yandere Fyodor and Dazai Compare and Contrast (How They'd Treat Their Darling)

Links: {Masterlist} {Yandere Fyodor Alphabet}{Yandere Dazai Alphabet} {Yandere PM!Dazai Alphabet}

Fyodor as a yandere is such an interesting concept.

Fyodor is a complex character who I believe is very hard to write and pull off.

He's deceiving in everyway of the sort, and I can see his darling having a hard time trying to figure him out. One day he can calm and quiet, and the next day he's sadistic and a bit more temperamental than yesterday.

I can see him acting like this as a way to keep you on edge. He isn't bipolar by any means, but he enjoys seeing the uncertainty on your face, the constant worry that a single slip up can through him into a frenzy, or he'll not even react and just let you deal with it on your own.

This is kinda where I compare him to Dazai. Dazai is very switchy in the same way, but he's a lot more consistent. Dazai rarely changes his behavior, but he actively changes his reactions, his actions often contradicting his personality. This is where being Dazai's darling become stressful because you'll think you know how he'll act, but in reality he'll react in a way that's completely out of character.

Fyodor and Dazai are full of mind games. Fyodor would rarely hits his darling. He finds it much more satisfying to see you stress your own self out, terrified of what he'll say or do to you, watching as you break down and pathetically try to hide yourself from his presence.

Dazai is sadistic, but not as much as he was when he was in the Port Mafia. He hates the idea of physically hurting his darling, and when he does he sinks into regret.

Now, where would they keep you?

I can actually see Fyodor bringing you along in his endeavors, and maybe even get you involved as a spy if you're powerful enough. I don't see Fyodor keeping you a secret from the ADA, and often uses you as a way to mock them, saying how they can't even save you. You're often viewing all his plans, and if a mission is a little too dangerous for his liking, he'll hide you in a place that you can't escape from.

Now, Dazai is more of an abusive boyfriend type yandere. He let's you like your normal life, go to work, hang out with friends, go to the mall, normal civilian stuff, but, he's watching you the entire time. You slip up once, and you'll deal with it at home. Dazai doesn't want to keep you in doors 24/7, but he also doesn't want you to leave him. You tell anyone about the horrors of your relationship, and you're left crying on the floor of the bathroom, the door locked as Dazai threatens you from the end. I also want to note, Dazai rarely if ever yells at you. The low and coldness in his voice is enough to throw you into tears.

So, who would be the worse to deal with full time?

Fyodor, here's why.

Dazai gives you a lot of freedom, much more than the average yandere, so you can live a mostly normal life. With Fyodor, you're stuck with him 24/7. He won't let you go anywhere by yourself, and has killed a few of your friends and family. So, if you did escape, you wouldn't last very long, and you wouldn't have anyone to support you.

The one good thing about Fyodor is that he's a pretty good balance of giving you false hope, and shutting your dreams down completely.

I do have one idea though. What would happen if you were acting as a spy for Fyodor, not for the ADA, but maybe for a powerful figure Fyodor wants something from, and you end up running into Dazai. It's one of the rare times you're alone, so I wonder how things would go.

#yandere bsd #bsd x reader #bsd x y/n #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor x y/n #yandere fyodor #yandere fyodor x reader #osamu dazai x reader #yandere dazai #dazai x reader #yandere osamu dazai #dazai x y/n #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #yandere bungou stray dogs #osamu dazai x you #osamu dazai x y/n

[brotheramberland]

Senseis' as fathers with a child!reader that was born blind.

Senseis' include: Kakashi Hatake, Satoru Gojo, Yami Sukehiro, and Levi Ackerman.

Please keep in mind: All character & reader interactions are purely platonic. There is NO romance. The reader is somewhere below the age of twelve and is portrayed as non-binary. These drabbles are meant to be platonic, fluffy and comforting.

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Kakashi Hatake

"Do you have a good sense of your surroundings?" Kakashi asked from where he knelt beside you.

You sported a determined expression that he couldn't help but to find both adorable and admirable. Even blind you still tried your hardest to improve your skills no matter how dangerous it may be. It made him proud and also worried him to death.

"Mhm," You nodded, tilting your head, "There's a tree five meters that way. I think I know where to go."

"Very good," Kakashi patted your back, "Just remember, if you happen to fall, I'll be right there to catch you."

"Ok, daddy," You smiled at him before focusing all your attention on using echolocation to navigate the branch you wanted to jump on. If you were going to be a ninja one day, you had to practice and train with all your might, "Here I go."

Kakashi held his breath while calmly waiting for you to make your jump, his body braced in precaution. A lump grew in his throat and sweat lightly dampened his clothes. Honestly, he might be over-thinking a bit, but he couldn't help it. He loved you so much, and while he respected your desires to train, he still worried about you tremendously.

He had lost so much in his life. Losing the most precious piece of it would cause him to go infinitely insane. Your blindness was an extreme vulnerability, and although you had grown well adapted to it, there was still much you had left to learn. And it didn't help his anxiety any when you decided to do dangerous activities like this.

In a flash, you jumped.

With a stumble, you landed perfectly on the tree branch. Wobbling to regain balance, you blushed in triumph and giggled, "Ah! Did you see that, daddy? I made it!"

Kakashi swiftly jumped onto the same branch, smiling proudly behind his mask, "Yes I did. That was well done, dongo, good job. At this rate, you'll be a ninja in no time."

Delighted by his praise, you grinned and began looking around, getting excited when you sensed yet another nearby branch. "There's another one," You grinned and went to jump.

Kakashi gasped and reached out for you, "Wait, (y/n), not so fast."

This time around, you didn't land where you were supposed to. In fact you didn't come into contact with any trees, and instead fell to the far away ground. "Ahh, daddy!" You cried.

Kakashi caught you in an instant, safely securing you in his arms while landing on a nearby branch, "You okay?"

You whimpered, hugging him tightly and frowning in failure, "Yes, but... I missed."

"That's okay," Kakashi quickly reassured you, running a soothing hand through your messy hair, "We all make mistakes. Why don't you try again, but this time, try not to let your emotions overwhelm you, ok? Often times emotions can be more blinding than blindness itself."

"But... What if I miss again?" You say sadly, "I-if I can't jump like I'm supposed to, then I'll never get to be a ninja, an-and you'll hate me, a-and I w-won't get to be like you-"

"Hey, hey, where's this coming from?" Kakashi grasped your shaking shoulders, looking into your milky, watery eyes, "Dongo, I could never hate you, so don't ever assume that, ok? And this was only your second attempt. You have plenty more to go. Don't be so hard on yourself. One of the most important things about being a ninja is never giving up. You're not giving up, are you?"

Quickly wiping your eyes, you shook your head and say softly, "Do you really think I can do it?"

Kakashi smiled and went to playfully pinch your cheek, kissing you on the forehead through his mask before saying, "I know you can. There's nothing you can't do, (y/n), and I'll always be right here by your side to make sure of that."

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Levi Ackerman

Levi was enjoying one of his rare days off from the ever tiring Survey Corps. He hadn't gotten to see you in over a week- something he chewed Erwin out for sternly. By the time he entered his house, you came rushing towards him, your tiny figure accidentally bumping into things along the way.

"What did I say about running?" He grumbled, unable to resist hugging you whenever you were close enough, "Damn runt, gonna hurt yourself."

"I missed you, daddy," You say in a mixture of sadness and excitement, your cracking voice causing him to frown, "You were gone so long. I-I was scared you wouldn't come back."

"Hmp, so much for faith," Levi ruffled your hair, relief flooding him at finally getting to be at your side again, "Has nanny been good to you?"

You whimpered a bit, your glossy eyes pointing towards the ground, "I like her, but... She doesn't let me draw... or cook... or sew."

At that answer, Levi sighed and palmed his face, cursing nonsense underneath his breath. This was a common problem for you and him; nannies and babysitters not letting you do anything fun all because you were blind. None of them had any patience or consideration and it really got on his nerves.

"Tell me she read to you at least?" He rubbed his temple, not really in the mood to threaten another dumb nanny for mistreating his child, but if he had to he would absolutely give her a piece of his mind.

Your small "yes" was the only thing that saved her.

Seeing the dejection decorating your face, Levi tapped on your nose and said, "Well, you should know it's been a while since I've had some decent food. Get your little butt in there and cook me something already."

Gasping in joy at his given permission to do one of your favorite activities, you nearly leaped into the air, twirling around and giggling excitedly, "Yay! I get to cook for daddy."

Before you could run off, Levi grabbed your hand and grumbled, "No running this time."

You grumbled back at him and marched to the kitchen with a silly pout on your face. Levi shook his head, grinning as he thought about how much he loved you. Honestly, you being blind was kind of a relief to him simply because it meant that you would never be able to fight. And being the protective father he was, he rather preferred it that way.

You were already doing such a good job at basic daily activities like reading braille, learning how to write, cooking small meals, navigating your way through familiar places, and even drawing and sewing. People said you wouldn't develop properly when you were born. Well, Levi would like to see them say that to his face now.

Taking off his jacket, Levi none-too-politely paid the nanny and threw her out of his house. Then he went into the kitchen where you were currently working on mixing eggs in a bowl, your eyes staring mindlessly at the wall. You may be blind, but you made him so unbelievably proud, you had no idea.

"I'm making your favorite, daddy," You say cheerfully when you noticed his presence.

Levi smirked and went to put some fire in the stove, "'Bout time I was spoiled."

You giggled, carefully climbed down from the chair, and walked over to him, reaching out to feel for his hand, "Can I see you?"

After getting the fire started, Levi knelt down in front of you and patiently allowed you to touch his face with your hands. You often did this during moments when he held you, your little hands gently feeling the structure of his face in an attempt to get an idea of what he really looked like.

"I missed you, daddy," You say quietly.

Levi reached forward and pulled you into a firm, loving hug, kissing the side of your cheek, "Missed you too, you little runt."

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Satoru Gojo

Who would have thought that his child would be born with beautiful crystal eyes like he himself had, and yet be cursed never to use them? Even though your disability was not his fault, Gojo still felt guiltily accountable, and always sought protecting you and making you the happiest he possibly could.

Starting a new morning, Gojo carried some fresh, folded clothes into your bedroom, quiet and stealthy. You were sleeping peacefully on your bed, your little snores causing his heart to flood with endearment. Gosh, you were so precious to him.

Setting the clothes down, Gojo knelt beside the bed and reached out to brush a gentle hand through your hair. You whimpered, your head stirring around on the pillow. "Hm? Hello? Rise and shine," He playfully sang.

You groaned softly, your body stretching out as your eyes squinted open. "Mm... Daddy?" You reached out to feel for him as your eyes stayed aimed towards the ceiling.

"Morning, my little angel," Gojo grabbed your hand and squeezed it gently, "Time to get up."

"Are you taking me to work today?" You asked curiously, tilting your head towards him, your hand tensing within his own larger one, "What if they don't like me?"

"Are you kidding me? They're gonna love you," Gojo blew raspberries and laughed, "And if they don't, then guess what? More butts' for me to leave my ultra-famous, Gojo styled foot print on."

Giggling at his joke, you reached out with your free hand and go to feel the blind-fold covering his powerful eyes, "I wish I could be more like you."

That sent a bullet roaring through Gojo's heart. He absolutely hated it when you degraded yourself and/or claimed that you wished you were different. It broke his heart more than you could ever imagine. "Hmm, well I love you just the way you are," He said casually.

"In fact I'd give up my own eyes any day to be just like you; free house, free food, the world's most riveting, handsome dad (if I do say so myself), and of course the opportunity to never have to work in a dangerous environment," Gojo smiled and patted your head, "There are plenty of reasons to be like you. Quit being so negative- you'll make the walls cry- and they don't even have eyes."

Letting go of your hand, Gojo grabbed your clothes and unceremoniously tossed them onto your face, "Hurry, hurry, or I'll eat all of the breakfast. Hm? Breakfast... Oh no, the breakfast!"

Sensing your father quickly disappear, you only manage to frown when the fire alarms began going off seconds later. Looks like he burnt breakfast... Again...

After you got dressed, brushed your teeth and headed down the hallway, you grimaced at the stench of burnt eggs. Goodness, what a silly father you had, but you loved him. Coming to a stop at the table where you sensed he was sitting at, you timidly held out a single band of cloth.

"Oh? What's this?" Gojo asked nonchalantly, pretending not to be embarrassed about, yet again, burning breakfast, "A scarf?"

"I... I thought that maybe... S-since I'm blind, maybe I could wear something like what you wear to cover your eyes. Then that way..." You frowned, tilting your nose down at the ground, "That way they won't know I'm blind. They'll think I'm strong, like you."

If your words could be knives, then they would have just sliced right through his chest. Still though, he managed to maintain his optimistic, calm persona, "What? You wanna lie to your new friends? Well that's not very nice. Their hearts would be broken in seconds."

"But..." You whimpered.

"Listen, (y/n)," Gojo reached out to grasp your shoulder, squeezing it gently, "You're not like me. You will never be anything like me. Why- you may ask? Because you're already a million times better."

You sniffled, leaning in to hug him, grateful that he so greatly accepted and loved you no matter how flawed you were, "I love you, daddy."

"I love you too, little angel who is stronger and cooler and- while I hate to admit it- better looking than me," Gojo teased, your laughter his haven that he could live in forever.

He loves you, (y/n), remember that.

━•❃°•°❀°•°❃•━

Yami Sukehiro

Yami, in general, was already extremely protective of you, especially after he discovered that you would forever be blind. Now that's not to say that he didn't encourage you to push past your limits. In fact he helped you train all the time. But see, the only problem he had with you training was when you trained by yourself.

And when he found out that you had been flying around on a broom by yourself thus leading to the breaking of your arm, Yami just about tore the rooftops off buildings with his sheer rage alone.

He was in the medical ward giving Magna and Luck a good scolding until you came prattling up, your arm perfectly healed by healing-magic. "Daddy, please stop being mean to Magna and Luck," You whined, tears in your eyes as you lightly shook, "I'm sorry. It's my fault... I went outside without their permission and rode the broom... It's my fault."

The entire ward went dead silent as Yami turned all his attention to you. Considering how bad his temper could get, you were pretty brave for admitting your mistake. And the look on your face; embarrassed, frightened and sad. He knew that you were telling the truth.

"Alright then," Yami relaxed and stepped forward to take your healed hand in his, his voice calm as he said, "Think it's 'bout time you and I had a little chat."

You whimpered but otherwise said nothing the entire time your father lead you just outside the ward. You knew from how he treated others that making him angry resulted in a scary outcome, and you worried what he would do to you now that you've finally done something to upset him. You felt bad too. Sad and regretful.

Once you were outside, Yami let go of your hand and lit a cigarette, "So... Ya just thought ya could do whatever the heck ya wanted to, huh?"

You tensed, your blind eyes staring at the ground, "I did a bad thing. I'm sorry, daddy."

Yami considered you. Unlike other people who annoyed him, he had never really ever gotten mad at you. Seeing how scared you were right now was suffocating enough to make him pout. Was he really making you that uncomfortable? But... He was your father. You shouldn't have to feel uncomfortable around him.

"Ya know, if this were me an' my dad, I woulda' already got my head beat in," Yami blew out a cloud of smoke, "Lucky for you though, I ain't him... I do wanna know one thing though- If all ya wanted to do was ride a damn broom, why didn't ya ask for help?"

You swayed back and forth, fiddling with your hands, "'Cause... You don't need help, an'..."

Ah. So you wanted to be like him. Yami closed his eyes in understanding. "Squirt, get over here an' look at me," Yami crouched down and guided your tiny hand to rest against the side of his face.

He in return cupped your face, gazing into your foggy eyes and saying, "I don't need help 'cause I'm all grown an' got full control over my mana. You're still a tiny, little sprout. Now if ya wanna train, that's fine, but 'till then, you train when someone else is around to help, ya hear?"

You nodded, your lower lip wobbling, "Yes, daddy."

"Eh? I go easy on ya an' you're still about'a cry? Talk about sensitive," Yami chuckled a bit, gently whacking your nose with his thumb.

"I-it's not you, daddy, I..." You whimpered, your body buckling up, "When I fell- i-it... It was just so scary a-and it hurt..."

Oh. Yami's face bloomed with realization. Oh... That was your first traumatic experience, huh? No wonder you were so upset. At first he thought about teasing you or making a sarcastic remark, but ultimately decided against it.

Instead he settled for wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his large chest. "It'll be alright, squirt. You're tough. You'll pull through. Everything's gonna be alright, ya hear?"

Soaking up his comforting warmth and attention, you whimpered and nodded, trying your hardest to hide in the safety of his chest. Your father was so strong and comforting. With him around, it was guaranteed that you would always be safe.

#fanfic drabble #kakashi hatake x reader #levi ackerman x reader #gojo saturo x reader #yami sukehiro x reader #child!reader #platonic #no romantic relationships #Father drabbles #blind reader #black clover #attack on titan #naruto #jujutsu kaisen

[thequietkid-moonie]

Request: Marinette and Adrien with a friend who knows that they are Ladybug and Chat Noir, but doesn't tell them until they reveal it.

Their friend knows their true identity

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Marinette, Adrien ]

[ Miraculous Tales of Ladybug & Cat Noir ]

Hehehe I liked writing this a lot! It was so funny to think!! Hope you liked it!

Im not sure if this is that good but I did my best!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng

Marinette always tries her best to find a balance between her normal life and her duty as one of the heros of paris, still she can struggle to find a proper way to do it, and even to be able to hide her secret identity since, most of the time, she can't just come up with a good excuse of why she has to go all of the sudden

The Miraculous magic can help her hide her identity but still as her normal self she can slip some commets or bad excuses, and if you know her enough you would be able to see that this is more than her usual clumsiness

No matter how you find out about she actually being Ladybug confronting her won't be a really good idea since it will make her feel really anxious, passing from trying to come up with a excuse or an argument to convince you that she isn't actually Ladybug (what probably just fails) to feel like a failure for letting someone find out about this (not that she would mad at you but at herself since now she thinks you can be on danger)

In the other hand, keeping it to yourself would be rather easy, specially since you two are friends she trust you so even if you aren't that good to hide the secret or say some comments that can hint that you know can be brush it off by an excuse (mainly because she prefer to believe you don't know yet)

Now that you know her identity you can understand her strange behavior or weird excuses that she say when there is danger that Ladybug has to take care of, and if you decide to help by trying to come up with a better excuse or just agreeding with her excuses so she can leave will help her a lot, she may find it a little strange sometimes but she will be relief that you believed her excuse more than anything (and she will even be grateful is you help her have an excuse to leave, even if is indirectly helping her)

If you treat her as usual whenever she met you as Ladybug she will be a little surprised (although, will leave the wondering to later, when none of you are danger), still she can be easily tricked by saying something like everyone put their trust on the heroine of Paris, not that she is too naive but she already knows you (you are her friend after all) and is just happy that you trust in Ladybug

If she ever decide to reveal her identity to you (or may even happen by accident) she will try to explain why she didn't say it before or that she want you to keep the secret and that she is trusting you with her life, she is more anxious than anything (even if she planned it), but when you tell her that you already knew it, she mood completely turn to be surprised and even embarrassment, at the end she will have the same chat of asking you to keep the secret but now she is a little bit more relief and will even laugh at this whole situation at the end

Adrien Agreste

Adrien knows how dangerous can be if someone gets to know his true identity, besides he enjoy a lot being Cat Noir, it gives him some freedom that he appreciate a lot so he also tries to protect that part of his life

Getting to know his true identity could be a little difficult for how diferent his personality is between him and the hero of paris, still you can find out if you put enough attention to his excuses to run away when is time to fight and if you know him enough

Deciding to confront him about is up to you, if you decide to tell him that you do know about his secret identity will be pretty shocking at first, but two are close friends and he knows that he can trust you then, at the end, he won't thing is a really bad thing, he will feel troubles and a little disappointed on himself for being so careless but assure you that he isn't mad at you or anything, if anything he is happy that if someone get to know that person is you, his friend

If you decide to tell him he won't accept it right away but will be more comfortable over time to rely on you to come up with excuses and even tell you how he feels by being a hero, as well if he gets to save you or just cross path with you while being Cat Noir he won't doubt on making a joke and even remark how you are just another random citizen of paris that he got to help. However, if he get to meet you while being Cat Noir but he doesn't know you know is him he will stile being cheerful and make some jokes but still be respectful to don't be so obvious with the fact that he already knows you

It isn't always that he has to come up with an excuse, he got already used to have a plan to cover up whenever he isn't in his room or when he has to come up with an excuse when he is busy with his extracurricular activities, so even if you were willing to help him to come up with an excuse is more likely that would have to be durinfg school, still that doesn't mean he doesn't appreciate whenever you help him with the excuse or cover up his ausence (but he does it mentally, unless he already knows that you know his identity)

If he ever decided to tell you about his secret identity it would be after thinking about it a lot and because he knows it would be necesary or helpful because the last thing he wants is to bring you troubles, so he would be trying to get ready to this, but if you admit that you already knew it will make him feel a little embarrassed but at the end will just laugh at it, in this case it would be easier for him to get comfortable and talk to you about his duty and all of that since it was his plan to tell you

#miraculous x reader #miraculous tales of ladybug and chat noir #miraculous ladybug x reader #marinette dupain cheng #marinette dupain cheng x reader #marinette x reader #ladybug x reader #adrien agreste #adrien agreste x reader #adrien x reader #chat noir x reader #x reader #x gn reader #cartoons x reader #cartoon x reader

[candiid-caniine]

Hey! Long time no see, i know i said id send you a fantasy i thought you'd like but now ive forgotten almost all of it, oop!

Life happened, and uh, i saw that you mentioned your libido being a bit low, which definitely is my case too (im recovering from depression, now that im okay id love to get my FULL libido back, or at least a good percentage of it) do you have any tips on that?

Also any recs of blogs writing in the same vibe as you? (same-ish kinks would be nice but im specifically looking for queer inclusive stuff!) it makes me 10x hornier than the regular video/photo porn!

Hope you're well, you pathetic little thing!

💫

hi friend!! ugh i feel you. sorry i haven't got any advice on regaining ur libido...we just let mine wax and wane as it will, though denial has been a big help in keeping it steady!

i've heard good things abt ginseng and some other herbs. obvs use at your own risk, mind that some herbal treatments can cross-interact with certain medications, remember that pre-packaged supplement pills are often unregulated and may contain toxins, and be aware that some herbal remedies work better on pw certain anatomy than others, and finally that many herbal remedies considered to increase libido are largely untested on trans folx!

finally, sorry it's taken so long to answer this ask...i'm autistic and have been cataloguing lol. i present to you a list of other blog recs under the cut, organized by general vibe! i've tried to primarily include blogs that do their own posts rather than those who primarily reblog :)

note that my headings may provide some context as to what to expect, but you read at your own risk and each blog will typically have its own trigger warnings addressed in the header/pinned. additionally, i've not tagged some of the ppl below because they prefer that "Men DNI" blogs not interact, and idk if "no cis men" qualifies ahah!

all blogs below are queer- and/or trans-inclusive, if not exclusive! there is no detrans/misgendering, at least I don't think - i don't tend to follow those blogs.

hard kinks (blood, knives, etc; includes primarily-cnc blogs):

@puppy-mommy , who also does general t4t kink content, but does state untagged hard kinks!

@visciousest is someone whose blog i scroll when i'm in a Certain Mood ahah,, i won't elaborate

@hell-hound-bites: just. fuck. would drool on his knife blade.

@snuff-fag: its username should give you fair warning as to how wild its content tends to get, so please browse responsibly.

@condor-bait is taking a break right now, and all my love is with him as he takes care of himself. he made me feel so valid and so fuckable as a young trans person learning to love myself in a new way, and i've always been too shy to tell him how much his content meant to me one-on-one (yes, despite its often-extreme themes!), and he deserves as much time as he needs to heal!

@unwillingfvckpuppy for mostly cnc and medical kinks! if you like his style, but not so much their harder content, he also has a more-tame main blog--i just mainly follow/scroll this one!

@vampvictim: top-tier cnc/intox stuff, plus some great knife/bloodplay :)

@cryptidtid is wonderful and holy shit i follow a lot of hard kink blogs lol. incredible

@cnc-pet: i have been following her for a long ass fucking time lol. they post a lot of really good cnc and stories, but you'll also find a lot of aftercare tips and advice on her blog! i really admire blogs who try to balance horny content with best practices

@dollobotomy

general kinky content:

@excessively-queer . just plain old good shit :) there's a good amt of edging and degradation.

@clouded-king was honestly one of my earlier introductions to the queer/t4t kink community on here and how fucking euphoric it can be :) he posts some hard kinks, but generally it's a balance of a lot of different kinks so read his pinned at your leisure!

@ / cottontailx : just good kinky nsft posts :)

@ / digitalpenetration: often specifically t4t which i love!!

@femmelovefemme can step on me :)

@bigothteddies: could not build this section w/o mentioning him :) they had a big influence on my fantasies for a long time!

@hazelj-xoxo: bigtime want her to cuck me. have followed her across multiple blog deletions lol

@transpidered is forever an icon!

@subspaceemo

@writefinch for great stories and text posts

edging and denial, specifically:

@6irlpet is 1 of my go-to hands-down-pants scroll sessions :)

@droolkink is my inspiration!

@flustersluts does exactly what the name implies lol. a good helping of other kink content too :)

@puppycvnt is a 10/10!

@barkwoofbarkwoofbark: we r denial friends imo!!

@strawbrrysub

@blyssful-abyss

@urhighnessbitch is a big fav <3

non-detrans genderplay:

@butchviolence does amazing butch supremacy stuff and i,,, fucking hell. even just seeing their username puts me in a Particular state of mind ahah. they also post hard kinks so be aware as you proceed!

@mtfdomme: i literally just reblogged from her today lol. tbh i want to be their little stupid pupthing. it's not all transfem supremacy undertones/overtones, but that's what i mainly follow her for, plus just general t4t goodness! also, their general personality? and the way she shuts down people who disrespect their boundaries? huge inspiration for me!

@cuntboydestroyer: take me to the animal shelter and neuter me. good lord.

@the-kind-of-dame is the main inspiration for my recent genderplay post lol

@terfbreaking-tgirl (be warned of dykebreaking if that's an issue for you)

@barbarian-lesbian is my other inspiration for the recent genderplay post

@superiorineveryway

weird asf (/complimentary; my favorite type of shit. robots, ND-focused posts, etc):

@specksizedgoddess has introduced me to things i didn't know, like...existed, and that's saying a lot as one of my special interests is kink! never knew how down bad i was to be a tiny buggirl, nor how much i wanted to be someone's stupid little robot... BIG tw tho: there is snuff and gore content here, so proceed with caution if you don't wanna see that!

@sapphling fucked me up real good with some bird!sub bondage posts awhile back lol

@nobelisha: found them through their ghost cnc post so that's why they're in this category ahah! they don't have a pinned so proceed w awareness :)

@devout-cleric: hierophilia/religion kink, and i'm something of an acolyte of hers :) if you've read this far down you may as well know i'm her Little Lamb anon lol

piss/omo:

@latenightomo

@pissheartmybeloved - their URL makes me crack up every time, plus good content!

@hold-it-a-little-longer - good scenarios/imagines!

@ohmyrashi - (i think) my original intro to omo!

monsterfucking/terato:

@septimus-moonlight was my first real introduction to trans-positive terato and i've never settled for half-fun cis-oriented terato ever since :) mind tags!

@eggedbellies as well!

@bredpun doesn't appear to be active lately but still good for a scroll!

@steamandcream

@of-mutts-and-men

#t4t nsft #asks #gen #denial #h/d #advice #💫 anon

[linkemon]

Toru Oikawa headcanons

Friendly reminder that English is not my first language. You can check my Masterlists both in English and Polish here. Consider supporting me on Ko-fi.

Other headcanons from this series can be found here.

• Relationship with Toru would be a bumpy and winding road, one that is sometimes nice and pleasant and then turns around and leads you through the worst forest you have ever seen in your life. I think Oikawa would fall in love with someone who blew his mind with their indifference towards him. It doesn't matter if you were a childhood friend or someone he happened to meet at highschool. It would be important for him whether you don't treat him like his fans do.

• Winning the hearts of the girls he could have easily wouldn't be a challenge at all. And the best things always require effort and work. He follows this philosophy in volleyball and it would be no different in the case of love.

• You can hit him on the shoulder and in the head with books for every stupid comment but if he sets his sights on you, you can be sure that he won't give up. A relationship with him would consist of flirtations that you wouldn't take seriously and rare, serious moments when you would feel that what he was saying was sincere and came from the heart. Of course, someone or something would always have to interrupt you.

• Have you styled your hair? He will destroy it. Is this a new hair tie? Now it's his, he'll keep it for good luck. Who gave him permission? He gave it to himself. Same case with casually adding -chan to your name...

• Hajime would be the greatest wingman in your relationship. For a long time he would say that Toru needs to take care of himself because he doesn't deserve you but eventually he would realize that you couldn't live without each other. He wouldn't push either of you to confess but he would certainly discreetly try to give you as much time alone as possible. And it's not easy to find excuses for so many Aobajosai members...

• Toru knows what he wants. And although you would have to wait to hear it in a serious and mature way, it would have been worth it. He would go for a walk with you somewhere on the boulevards, by the water with a nice view. Surrounded by the dim, night lights, he would tell you how he felt. And these would be sincere words. Different from those that he feeds many people on a daily basis. Thoughtful and adequate as always but not superficial, hidden in the depths of his mind when he thinks about your smile in his free time.

• Oikawa likes it when you take off his glasses and then kiss him. He jokes that it's a bit like a scene from a movie. And it's even better when your friends are watching. Let them be consumed by jealousy. One time Kageyama asked you if you were sure you knew what you were getting into.

• Half of the serves since you became a couple are dedicated to you. At training, in high school, he will shout about it loudly, as long as you are anywhere nearby. In more serious matches, when he got into the Argentine national team, he simply put two fingers to his lips and blew a kiss towards the audience. Half the fans were dying of delight before they finally realized you were in the bleachers.

• Sometimes it's hard to balance a career as a professional setter with daily responsibilities. You travel with Toru but for most part, your relationship is a long-distance type. You talk a lot on the phone and on video calls. You get as many discounts on airlines as possible to see each other as often as you can.

#oikawa toru x reader #oikawa tooru #haiykuu!! #haikyuu x reader #headcanons #25/7 #haikyuu #oikawa x reader #toru x reader #kageyama tobio #hajime iwaizumi

[blanc-u]

I just want to say that this was cinema and inform Tumblr that Cellbit did the same speach that Ms. Veríssimo, one of the most important characters of Ordem paranormal and basically the one who founded the Order in the RPG, did when he abandoned the Order. qCellbit has been paraphrasing this character for a while, principally in the Regret arc (like with the "eyes always open" bit), and I think this is a huge moment not only for the cubito but also for the island.

This was, like qCellbit has been indicating for a while, the "wrap up" of Regret's arc. We wouldn't play anymore, we would show the federation what Regret really meant and Cucurucho would fall, but we didn't account for the fact that the whole reason we were fighting, the eggs, are gone, and that qCellbit literally hadn't any strength left in him to fight. He was in a dead end and then he found out that every shit thing that happened in his past wasn't inevitable, that he had lost a whole family that he can't even remember and was apparently trying to escape the Island he grew up on. The one that if he hadn't been taken out of in first place he wouldn't had to do the horrible things he did. The fucked up island that, as he said, gave him everything good in his life.

It's a lot and qCellbit was acting out of desperation. He put his everything in the hope that Project A0 would be the thing that would finally tip the balance, just for it to be useless. Not even the satisfaction of making cucurucho fail was enough, because he still wasn't any closer to finding his son or Forever. And, just like that, he hadn't any strength left in him to fight and he gave up. Fighting the federation didn't do him any good in the end, he wasn't any closer of finding out how to leave the island than he was on day one and now he also lost Richarlyson.

Now here's what I think it's going to happen: qCellbit is going to abandon the Order. The organization he poured his soul into, the only thing tying all the Islanders together, will be left behind. He doesn't care about leaving anymore, he just wants to live in peace with his family, and if the federation can help finding them so be it. He will be a pawn if that's what it takes to have his whole family together in peace. He won't struggle, won't pry. But I also know that while he is done, others are angrier than ever. I think that qPhilza and qBadboyhalo will, in a way, take up the mantle and keep up the work in the order. They ARE the other heads of the revolution, named by qCellbit himself, and they aren't ready to give up, they are just starting, and I can't way to see what they will do.

#qsmp #qcellbit #qsmp theory #q philza #q badboyhalo

[fictionalslvr]

Part one. Part two.

SYNOPSIS: "Ghost" is your new neighbor in your apartment complex, everyone is afraid of him, but not you. He can't understand why you're so kind to him, and thinks he doesn't deserve it. He doesn't have no one to celebrate Christmas.

PAIRING: Neighbor¡Simon x F¡Reader

WORD COUNT: 3.045k

WARNINGS: fluffy, angst, mentions of blood, war, s.a (not directly) ect.

NOTES: This is the last part of this mini serie, sobs sobs. I hope you guys enjoyed until now 🫶🩵 (for some reason my tumblr bugs and won't let me make some phrases bold, ignore that.)

And again, tell me if there's something wrong, english is not my first language.

PREVIOUS PART

❝How can you miss someone you've never met?❞

Simon is a stubborn man. He is used to believing that maintaining distance would keep people safe from him, and this is not very polite of him. Sometimes, he would even be rough without noticing, making someone he cares for upset. It could or not, be his choice to do so. He did this a lot to his team, thinking that this would keep them safe, away from him, like killing two birds with one stone., keeping his past hidden, and not losing anyone as well. It’s hard not to get attached to someone, he can’t really control that, and when he realizes, he’s suddenly more cold than before, afraid that he will lose everything once more. Only he would understand the pain he felt, the knot on his guts when he saw his family vanishing from his hands, everything he fought for in years, going away in a blink of an eye, he surely doesn’t want to feel those sensations again. Guilty, vulnerable and useless, he really felt like this back then, trying even to make some therapy wouldn’t help, he found it nonsense, would only make his anger issues harder. As for now, he’s not that melancholic about it, trying to live his life after years of that, it already happened, he can’t change this. Even killing the one who did this to his family wouldn’t be one hundred percent enough, but for a long while, kept his mind thinking that he did justice with his own hands, and this was good for a moment. When Simon left only for himself, Ghost appeared, embracing his old identity for a new living he would start. It was very spontaneous, he suddenly took charge of his life for his own good, and Simon let it be like a second identity. They’re actually the same, but he likes to think that Ghost is a better version of himself, that is stronger and braver. He took all his fears and used them as a strength, became a new one, that he would only let it slip alone or outside the job. For a moment, he thought he would lose himself that way, until he found a in between line of being Ghost and Simon, he would live happily on that tightrope, finding some balance on top of it, slipping his feet sometimes, but never falling completely.

He takes a lot of pain for himself, and crying is something he never thought of doing. He passed through a lot, a lot that took his ability to cry. He would feel his heart ache, his lips drying and his heartbeat increasing…for not even a single drop of tear left his eyes. It was like he had no emotions at all, but from inside, he was cracked up, like a porcelain vase being glued all together again and again, for years. Usually, when he’s sad, he would stare at the wall or the ceiling, forgetting everything around him to think too much, alone, for himself only. Or, he would just stare, blankly, not a single thought on his mind. That’s when he got the habit of smoking, feeling the smoke filling his lungs would keep him distracted from the bad feelings. When he takes shots of whiskey, he’s very bad, and needs something stronger to bury his soul. He’s actually afraid on the back of his mind, afraid that he would end up addicted, so he truly drinks only a few times, but making sure he would knock out and wake up regurgitating all the liquid, the emptiness on his stomach would start to ache, and the hangover was a reminder that he wouldn’t forget everything so easily.

If there's one thing he didn’t like were commemorative dates, especially Christmas. In those days, he would try his best to not leave his home, but either way, he couldn’t escape the families nearby, all laughing and enjoying moments together. Those damn nights, he would sit on his table, a glass of whiskey in hands, all alone, and looking at the windows gave him the sight of a big family, around the table celebrating the food or kids opening gifts. Once, he tried to close the windows, like a grumpy older man that doesn't like to see happy people. That didn’t help a single bit, living in an apartment complex and those thin walls…he could hear some chatter anyways. The problem was not them, nor was the date itself, it was him. He knows that this way, he would look like Grinch himself, hating Christmas. He doesn't truly hate, he just didn’t like how it reminded him of the past, how a great time turned to a tragedy in his life. And hearing the little kids opening the gifts would make his face melt in sorrow, he always had a soft spot for children, ever since he had a nephew, he stills remember how happy the kid was with his gift.

—"Uncle, you really gave me the scooter that I asked for?” — The little boy giggled. Excited for the unwrapped gift in his hands, Simon nodded with his head, in silence, but with a big grin on his face.

—”Now, now. What do we say to him?” — His lovely mother caressed his back, reminding him to be grateful for the gift.

—”Thanks uncle Simon! You’re the best!”

He never used it. Never had the time to play with his new gift. His voice is still so fresh in Simon's memories, that each time the Christmas is close, he can hear his voice in his mind. The little boy's eyes would sparkle up, the fireplace making everything nice and comfy. When he blinks his eyes, he can see where he is now, a cold place, all alone.

It’s been a long time, and he’s avoiding you. The head nods turned into his eyes turning away from yours, the soft chuckles once in a while turned into silence, and not even the hand wave would be present. Of course, you would keep your life, going to work, coming back, having the little cat nearby and her purrs calming you down, drinking coffee in the mornings and reminding of…him. Simon’s stubborn, you told him that being cold won’t make you leave, but he suddenly became more distant than before, and this was a pain you would have to carry. He’s not an easy person to deal with, that’s obvious, the closer you get, the more he pushes you away. That would cause you shame, shame for being ignored in the hallways, shame for being stupid for a friendship that never quite existed. At first, you thought it was your imagination, that he was only in a bad mood. But when you knock on his door and he doesn’t open, even if you heard his footsteps, then you’re sure he’s ignoring you. His mind is playing with his sanity, he can’t keep seeing you and not getting even more attached, so the only option he had was to ignore you, and pretend that they never met. Simon felt awful doing that, you were the only one with the courage to speak to him, and that’s how he returns the good act? He is always that ignorant.

As Christmas gets close, he wonders if your family is coming to your house, and this year, he would listen to you, giggling with your family on a full table, decorations all over the place, and the mix of red and green starts to bother him. When the day finally comes…silence at the apartment above, that’s weird, he surely saw the pictures you had with your family. The curiosity is eating him alive, trying the best to disguise it. It’s hard to see your excited figure wave at him, and ignores completely. On the night of Christmas Eve, he was walking on the hallways, making his way back to his home after a meeting for job, and luckily or not, he ends up on the same elevator as you, the tense atmosphere when his hand is in between the metal, almost losing it, he enters it quickly, now giving the chance to the heavy doors close. When Simon lays his back against the cold metal, he sees you, winter clothes and a scarf, it’s so cold that you’re nuzzling your nose to the fabric, in an attempt to warm you up. The silence is weird, you don’t even look at his face, and there’s nothing on your hands, making clear that you’re not putting decorations for today. Simon clears his throat, he wants you to talk to him, how ironic after all these weeks ignoring you. Weirdly putting his hands on his pockets.

—”So…no preparations for today?” — His cold voice suddenly rings your attention. You shake your head slightly and lift your chin to meet his eyes, his face, as you’re used to being hidden by that balaclava. It’s weird to see him starting a dialogue after all this time being ignored, you lift an eyebrow before answering.

—”Just me. As always.” — For the first time, your voice sounds painful. He wants to ask why, but doesn’t deserve an answer after being a jerk with you. —”M’sorry for…avoiding you.”

He just asked for an apology? Seems like he had a big time thinking after weeks alone, and the past caught him by the feet, dragging him to that pit of regret. Simon looks away, not wanting to see your eyes after doing something so weird like apologizing.

—”That’s okay.” — No more words were needed, his face turned to see yours, and when your lips curled up in a smile, his shoulders felt a lot more light. The metal door creaks open, interrupting Simon to say more with that loud rusty noise.

—”Do you…want a coffee?”

—”Of course.”

Being here is all he needed after this long and sufferable week. The cozy air in your home would bring him immeasurable peace.Simon watches as you take off the scarf around your neck and pulls a chair for him.

—”Feel comfortable.” — You mumbled with a soft grin. He sits there immediately, watching the surroundings of your home once more, like he’s remembering how it was the last time he was here. But nothing changed. No artificial trees or Christmas stocking, nor fairy lights. Not even a single detail about this special date.

—”You don’t celebrate?” — He asked weirdly, while your back was turned to him, taking the pot of coffee, as you turned your body to face him, a confused expression meet him.

—”What? Christmas?”

—”Yeah. Is it…religion?”

—”Oh no, i just don’t have anyone to celebrate with.” — Simon nods, not daring to ask a single question more.

You lift up the sleeve of your shirt, pouring the coffee in the cups, and he keeps an eye on you, finally noticing a big burn scar all over your arm. Behind that mask, his lips parted, surprised with something about you he never saw before. Someone happy as you, had lost your family too.

—”How did you…” — He points to the burn scar, not directly mentioning it. You chuckles softly at his description on that matter.

—”I survived an accident. Was just me and my sister.”

—”So why isn’t she here now?”

—”She lives in another state, can’t come to celebrate it.” — As the steam flows out of the cups, Simon gets himself in a chokehold. He sure doesn't have a lot of manners, but the way you treated an accident was way different from his. You sit on the chair beside him, putting the pout of coffee down on the table.

—”My condolences for your family.”

—”There’s no need for that, I'm sure they’re resting now. It’s been a long time since it happened.”

—”Can i…touch your scar?”

—”Sure.” — This new discovery took all of his attention, he didn’t care about the coffee anymore. You offer him your arm, lifting up the sleeve to your shoulders.

Simon was completely mesmerized by it, such a big scar that starts on your fingertips, to your shoulders. His thumb gently presses it, with such tenderness that you looked like it could break at any moment. Slowly, his thumb moves along your hand, traveling to your arm and feeling the texture of it, that gentle movement along your arm, feeling every fiber of you as a new thing. He never asked for this before, and having him so focused on you it’s great. His eyes follow his trails, going all the way to your shoulders and making you shiver gently. This scar, just as the many that he has, was an act of bravery of yours, a sign that you’re still here, in this mediocre world. He always looked at his scars with disgust, thought that would make him feel ugly, but seeing yours…he felt connected to you. He was understanding himself with your story, your life on the press of his thumbs.

—”They look painful.”

—”It was. Had a lot of trouble taking care of it alone.”

—”That’s…so admirable.” — You knew how lucky you were to be alive from that accident, the doctors told you that you managed to escape from the toxic smoke, being burned and are still alive. But you never thought that he would find something like this admirable.

—”You really think so?”

—”Yeah, I'm being honest, it’s pretty…” — His hands move along your arm one last time, before letting you go. Letting that sensation go away.

—”Well, thanks then.”

—”Just telling the truth. I have a lot of scars as well, I understand you.” — For the first time, he shares something about himself, without you asking for it. That lights up all your face as you pull your sleeve back down.

—”Really? How many?”

—”I don’t know…I never count them. Have you ever counted how many moles you have?”

—”Course not, it’s too many.”

—”That’s why I never count my scars.” — His words make your breath hitch for a moment, you sigh heavily before looking away. The coffee in the cups is starting to cool down.

—”Where are your scars?”

—”All over it, almost. Face, chest, abdomen…ribs.” — He takes his own moment on the last word, like it's something that really matters for him.

—”I can’t imagine what you passed through.”

—”Don’t even try, you won’t guess correctly.” — Simon exhales deeply, looking down to the now cold coffee. The silence creeps once more, and you just have to ask.

—”I’ve been wanting to ask…why have you ignored me all these weeks?”

—”I was scared.”

—”Scared?”

—”Yeah, I have fears as well.” — He shrugs and that makes you chuckle softly

—”I know this. I’m asking...fear of what?” — Simon stays silent for a while, reluctantly answering —”Fear that you came to stay.”

His words are confused, sometimes look like he’s talking to himself. That makes you tilt your head a little, looking at his almond shaped eyes running from yours.

—”I’m not used to people like you. That doesn’t run away from me, or leave at the first talk.”

—”Well…?”

—”I realized that I can't run away from you anymore.” — These words, is like he’s been feeling what you felt as well, since you first encountered him, the way that he had an amount of power over you, that made you become more and more curious about him. Seems like he is finally opening up about his feelings.

—”I want you to know…to know me properly.”

—”So…no more ignoring?”

—”No more ignoring. Just the real Simon.” — His eyes meet yours, and even behind the mask, you can sense a smile out of him, from the way his eyes squint. —”But promise me something.”

—”What is it?”

—”That you won’t leave me after knowing the truth.” — Your face brightens, and you nod with your head at him.

—”Okay, I promise you, Simon.”

—”Thank you, [name].” — With that, Simon hands wander over his mask, and he takes it off completely, giving you the vision of…his face.

He’s just as handsome as you thought. Bushy eyebrows now visible, his short blond hair a bit messy, that jawline making his face more than memorable. And besides all of that, scars. One big one at the side of his lips, another one on his eyes. He looks away like a flustered little child, scratching the back of his neck and your eyes almost close for smiling too much. You giggle softly with the sight, a giggle that tells him ‘is okay’, that makes him feel safe again to look you in the eyes. He becomes lost in that sight, your face melting with smiles, so happy to finally know him truly, that he’s finally opening up for you, that he smiles too, a soft little smile. Only he knows how much he wanted this, to be real with you, to show himself, and that you would continue to look at him with that grin on your face.

—”It’s nice to meet you, Simon.”

The comfort of your voice is all he needed at this moment. The way your voice brings him peace. That ache of his heart finally leaving, knowing that he won’t lose you anytime soon. That you’re here, with him. Both heartbeats increase, silly smiles all over, maybe it’s the Christmas spirit making everything more cozy. Or maybe it’s because one needs another to understand…that not everything can be solved, but that things can stay in the past, not be forgotten.

—”Can we…spend this Christmas together?” — He knows that is safe, that he won’t lose you to those cruel people who killed his family. That for the first time, he can have a normal Christmas. You only nod your head gently, a brief answer that he needs.

To make everything more comfortable, your little cat appears, climbing Simon’s lap and staying there lazily.

—”Sorry for her…”

—”Oh hello little one, we meet again…” — Simon mumbles, looking down at the little feline, his hands caressing her fur gently. Even without the mask, she could recognize him. The view makes your heart flutter.

—”Again?” — You ask in between chuckles. It was indeed, adorable to see this.

—”I met her when you slept on the couch, she was all over me.”

—”She’s a clever little kitten.”

When you say that, a relieved exhale leaves your lips. From now on, you’ll be able to meet the real Simon, and the idea of having him close, it’s not a problem for you.

Tag list (hope i didn't forget anyone):

@linoskitten11

@pepsicolacoochie

@silas-222

@maeplayscello

@ysljoon

@fandomsinthegalaxies

@corvusmorte

#fanfic #fictionalslvr #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x female reader #ghost x f!reader #ghost #fluffy #angst #angst with a happy ending #light angst

[ponett]

Hello, wanted to say thank you, I'm really glad I found your work and I find your insights very helpful.

I wanted to ask something strange, as someone who has gone out of their way to dedicate a very detailed blog to the works of an outspoken artist, can you give me advice how to maintain healthy distance with ideas and individuals I might outright oppose, but have morbid sense of curiosity about them? Or it it just better to not indulge at all?

It's a difficult balance to achieve, and I won't pretend I've always been perfect about it on TKP

The thing is that you have to not obsess over the person too much. You have to focus on their work, not detailing every single thing they've ever done or said to keep receipts on them. You do not, under any circumstances, want to turn into the freaks who make and watch hundred hour long "documentaries" on CWC and Sonichu, or the people who run the Bad Webcomics Wiki

The point is to do media criticism, not to make a callout blog. Details the artist has shared about their life may sometimes help inform your reading of the work - art isn't made in a vacuum, and artists' life experiences and worldviews often shape their art. But you don't need to pry too much and piece together their full life story and psychoanalyze them if that information isn't already available in an autobiography or whatever

On TKP, one of the most important things I do to try and keep that distance is simple: I don't follow Penders on Twitter. I don't need to know every single thing he says, nor do I need to report on it. I'll check in when I hear he's made some kind of announcement regarding his work, and when looking for behind the scenes info I'll sometimes term search on his Twitter because he's far more vocal about what happened behind the scenes than the rest of that creative team, but that's it. I'm not thinking about him every day. I also haven't gone in-depth on his non-Sonic work to help drive home the idea that TKP is a blog about the American Sonic comics with a quippy url, not a blog about shitting on Penders

(On that note: I don't interact with him directly, either. I do not need to dunk on him in his Twitter replies. I do not need to lure him into an interview where I totally own him. I am not sending him my criticism like he owes it to me to read it and improve his work. I leave the guy alone)

As the blog has gone on I've also tried much harder to be objective about him and his work. I'll admit that early on, before the blog blew up, I was eager to see what all the drama was about and why everybody hated the guy. But my goal isn't just to find excuses to hate on him, or to spread baseless gossip, and that shouldn't be the mindset you go in with. I've offered praise for some of his work where I thought it was deserved, and I frequently correct people on misunderstandings about him and the lawsuits, even defending him on certain points

This is an extremely basic and hopefully obvious element of good media criticism, but it should also be said that just because an artist depicts something doesn't necessarily mean they endorse it, and that your goal isn't to piece together the artist's beliefs based on their work and then call them out over it. It can go the other way around - you can analyze how an artist's stated beliefs and values are reflected in their work - but, like, Penders writing a story where Knuckles decides to forgive his shitty fascist uncle for no reason does not mean that Penders is a Nazi apologist. It's just a story.

Again: your main goal should be to criticize the work, not the artist

And, of course, a huge factor is simply how famous the creator in question is (and also if the creator is still alive). You wanna do a deep dive on the works of Steve Ditko and criticize his Randian objectivism? Go nuts, buddy! You wanna shit all over Lovecraft? Have at it! Wanna tear apart the neoliberal politics of Harry Potter? Well, okay, Shrieking Shack already did that one. But if the person you're thinking of doing a sprawling, in-depth teardown on is, like, a smalltime webcomic author? Some hobbyist indie dev? A fanfic writer? That sort of thing? Hell, even someone in the middle like a cartoon storyboarder, or a freelance writer who does articles for Kotaku sometimes? Maybe reconsider. Just because someone's online doesn't mean they're a Public Figure, and there's a line where a deep critical dive on someone's work quickly turns into painting a target on their back

(This ended up being more about Criticism than how to just engage with stuff you hate, but also you can just, like. Look away. And find something else spend your time thinking about.)

#bluebobo3 #ask

[somebluemelodies]

@atthebell's SPIDERBIT WEEK DAY FIVE: weed fic | mermaids spiderbit mermaid au's are so personal to me i'm actually obsessed with them

There's a storm above the water when Cellbit surfaces. It's wreaking havoc on the surface, tall waves pushing him up and down and rocking him back and forth, making it hard to survey his surroundings.

It worries him. It's not the first storm he's ever seen, and he knows it won't be the last, but that's not it. The familiar ship is gone from the dock, and that's what worries him.

Because it means he's out there somewhere, in the midst of this chaos.

He shouldn't care about humans, he knows that. And he doesn't! For the most part. Only one, really.

(Roier. He likes the way the name sounds. It's perfect, just like its owner.)

And he really, really cares about that one. So much so that he feels fuzzy and warm at the mere thought of him. So much so that he could spend his whole life just listening to him talk about what makes him happy. So much so that the time between their meetings makes his heart ache with longing.

(He's in love. But he'd never admit that aloud. It's not like they can be together. Not unless...

He wouldn't do that to his human. His human friend. Friend.)

To try and quell the worrying quickly brewing in his chest, he takes off away from the land, deeper into the ocean. The downpour makes it hard to see ahead, the booming of thunder makes it hard to focus, but he persists. He has a mission.

Roaring oranges and yellows in the distance create a beacon against the gray, drawing him forward. The closer he gets, he starts to hear shouting over the rainfall. The crackling of flickering flames.

There's two ships, but only one is burning. He sees people fighting. Pirates and masked figures in all white. He sees people running.

He sees him.

His beloved human is a fighter it seems, battling two of the strange figures. And he's quite the fighter, making the whole thing look admirably easy as his weapon - a cutlass, Roier said it was - disarms one of the figures, knocking its body to the floorboards.

Life has always been eerily good at changing in the blink of an eye, though. And it happens in a flash.

Lightning ignites the sky, a deafening clap of thunder following. The ship rocks a little too hard, throwing Roier off his balance as he's nearly thrown overboard.

And then the second figure, that hellish, disgusting, wretched thing, strikes. Cellbit can't see it, but he can see his human's face, the way it contorts in pain, and he knows.

And he's mortified.

(Not his human. Not Roier. Not his Roier.)

The monster draws its weapon back, and it's stained, dripping red. And like the heartless thing it must be, it and its recovered ally send him toppling overboard, into the stormy sea.

Cellbit feels like he's been shocked, shooting back under the water and zipping forward, searching.

He finds Roier, bleeding crimson into the sea from a spot that looks way too close to his heart as he sinks down, down, down, pulled deeper and deeper by the waves.

He grabs Roier, who seems momentarily stunned to see him. There's a hand on his face, then, and Cellbit trills, nearly melting into the touch, but then Roier's eyes flutter shut and he immediately remembers he's running against the clock.

They're too far from land now. Cellbit could only keep him above the surface for so long. Only one option saves him from an untimely fate.

He pulls Roier deeper, away from the chaos near the surface, and towards the seafloor. And, cradling his face in both webbed hands, kisses him, praying to a god he doesn't quite believe in that it isn't too late for his magic to run its course.

(Maybe it's selfish. But he doesn't care. If it means keeping him breathing, keeping him alive, he'd choose this a million times over.)

He feels energy. Powerful, almost overwhelming energy. Then, white envelops them.

When the white finally begins to dissipate, only then does he pull away, only just enough. Cellbit sees shimmering deep reds and blues in his peripheral, no more bleeding, too, but he focuses on Roier's face.

He sees newfound gills flare, and then Roier gasps sharply, eyes shooting open. He's off-balance, kicking a tail instead of legs, and he realizes it quickly, eyes widening. "What the fuck?!"

Cellbit steadies him, hands on his waist, and only then does Roier seem to fully notice he's there. "What did you do..?"

"It was the only way to keep you alive," Cellbit answers, and God, does finally being able to speak to him ignites something in his heart. "I didn't want you to die. I couldn't let you die."

Roier seems to have the same thought process as him, as instead of further questioning his new state first, an awed smile starts to cross his face. "You can talk to me."

"Well, you're like me now."

"Shit, man, how did you do that?"

Cellbit flushes. "I... I believe you call it a kiss?"

He goes to pull after a few moments, sheepish as Roier processes, but then Roier's arms are around his neck, and he blushes deeper. "Is that so?"

Cellbit nods slowly, and then their eyes lock. Roier moves an arm from around his neck, hand once again cupping his face with a gentleness that makes him feel weak all over. His voice is soft, and Cellbit wonders if his heart is about to beat out of his chest. "Can I return the favor?"

Cellbit's eyes widen, flickering down to Roier's lips. "You can..."

(Since when were his feelings reciprocated?)

(Since when was this possible?)

The latter hums, smiling. "Perfect."

He tilts Cellbit's face up, and they both let their eyes close, closing the gap between them.

The kiss is soft, almost tentative, but there's no trace of franticness to be found anymore. No panic, no fear, no worry.

Euphoria floods their veins, and the chaos is forgotten.

(...who was Cellbit to question this?)

There's a lot to figure out. But they'll do it. They'll make it work like they have thus far.

Together.

#i just kinda ran with this she's a bit of a mess #leave it to spiderbit to kiss mere moments after being able to actually communicate with each other #they totally would argue with the wall #idk what this is but i'm kinda proud of it #mermaid spiderbit my beloved i want to revisit this soon #whether it's this exact au or not #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #spiderbit #qsmp #blue writes qsmp #atthebell's spiderbit week #spiderbit mer au

[marshmallowprotection]

what do you think saeran’s toxic traits would be in a relationship? like do you think he’d treat his gf well? (ge saeran)

GE Saeran may not be the perfect partner, but to be honest, I don't think we can quantify anyone as a "perfect partner".

Relationships are about working, learning, and growing together. Sometimes you'll say something really dumb or misunderstand your partner without meaning to, and sometimes you'll do something like peel an orange for your lover without needing to be asked because you love helping them!

It's very normal to have a relationship that flows like a river, seeming fast and slow at times, moving through rocks, fish, and sticks, too.

Now, don't let that make you think it's healthy to argument with your partner all the time. Disagreements are healthy in a relationship but not full-blown arguments and spats. You're two different people, even if you love each other, you will run into a wall sometimes, and you get moments where you learn how to concede, compromise, and adapt if and when it comes to that. There's a balance, you're looking for some kind of harmony in your partnership, but it won't always be perfect.

It isn't healthy to assume it's sunshine and roses every day, just like it isn't healthy to assume it's doom and gloom every second. It's about two or more people coming together to make it work, and as long as you have that, as long as you have communication, your relationship will thank you for it. The cornerstone of a relationship hinges on your ability to communicate your needs. If you fall to meet that, it will end up crumbling in some way, shape, or form.

So, what do I think would be unhealthy for Saeran? Well, let's blow this one out of the bag already since this seems to be a problem for many people who talk about Saeran and MC. Did you guys know in the game, V/Rika and Saeran/MC are written to to be foils? Most of all, especially in the case of Ray Route and the RAE. There's a line in which we need to draw when it comes to unhealthy attachment and dependency.

V and Rika? Codependent. They have a hard time functioning without the other even if they're both well-aware they're horrible for the other by the end. Rika feels like she needs V around no matter how much she screams in agony that she hates him because he is her Savior, her God, and her light. V feels like he needs to keep protecting Rika, in part because he doesn't want to hurt someone like he thinks he did to his mother, but because he promised her he would.

Saeran and MC? NOT CODEPENDENT. Saeran and MC work side by side, communicate, and make decisions based on what feels right to them. Saeran's actions don't hinge upon MC telling him what to do in the moment. He asks them for input but he isn't bound by it. MC isn't demanding Saeran do what they want. They tell him to think about all the options he has, and he considers what he wants before they talk it out, discussing pros and cons for everything.

The game lays this out very plainly but some people miss the point in the fact that these dynamics are meant to foil one another and show two sides of the situation and where a dynamic can be healthy and... well, where it goes wrong. Saeran and MC don't need each other to be able to function in life, but V and Rika... they have a hard time with that.

Codependency vs Interdependency.

So, with that being said, what do I think Saeran might deal with in a relationship that's not healthy, but could be worked on?

I think GE Saeran's core struggle will be trying to find a sense of individuality.

But, this is something he's already talked about in the game, and it's something he's willing to work on every day for the rest of his life. It isn't surprising to know that he values the comfort of those around him more than he values himself, but he's learning how to accept that his needs and wants matter just as much. So it's not as if this is going to be something that's happening for a long time since he's already well aware of it, but it's good to point out that it's not only something that he needs to be aware of, but you do, as well. You don't want him to focus on just what you want in life, after all.

I have a hard time imagining him struggling with most things that many people do in relationships just because he's so dedicated to working on himself and being aware of the problems that may spring up within him—it makes it hard to say something that could be toxic. His willingness to be better and to communicate squashes so many traits that can make somebody do something toxic, willfully or not.

Since communication is a cornerstone of any relationship, if there were any problems, he would work on them, and that reduces a lot of the expected "toxic" traits you see. It's so hard for me to say, "Well, he may do this or that," when I know the minute you said something, he would be researching and learning how to curb a bad behavior. He's not trying to be willfully cruel, after all!

Saeran's not perfect, is my point, but if there were any problems, he would work on them.

#mod kait #ask #mystic messenger #anon #mysme #saeran choi #mysticmessenger #mm #choi saeran #ge saeran #saeray #saeran #character analysis #i know it sounds like he's perfect but he's not

[littlelightfish]

The hearts don't mean he is in love with no one. The problem with English is how vague of the word love is in his meaning. It envolves different kinds of caring in one single word. But I'll try to express here what I mean.

He cares, as a person, about everyone. This is a basic level of love that he haves towards everybody. He doesn't want anyone to actually die, that's what I mean. He doesn't necesarily cares about someone, but he loves them enough to not want them to die.

He starts befriending someone and gets to know it. He starts liking things about them and disliking others. He starts loving this people in another way, we'll call it liking. This is more a get-to-know phase he doesn't always like. The less he knows, the less reasons to get attached get attached he has. I think this are the kind of love the hearts show in the image. He has to make sure to keep a balance between how much he loves and how much he let's himself be loved. He doesn't want to have misunderstandings. He is in constant fear of "what if I made them love me more and they care more?"

And then it comes the deeply care that love is in the non-romantic way. This care a (good) parent has for his babies. The love that makes people suffer emotionally in an absolute different way from what it could be a heartbreak or a misunderstanding between friends. If something happens to the loved one, the pain is unbearable. It's one of the worst things rhat can happen. And Chilchuck knows this, he is father of three daughters, and his wife left him. She left, he knows the pain it is to come home and find it empty when there should be someone. He knows the guilt it comes with failing those loved ones. The shame. He doesn't like being this vulnerable. This love makes him suffer like no other does. So he is very very carefull of how much he allows himself to care about someone so he won't get to love like this.

He draws a line between work and private life because his private life envolves love and deep care, and he doesn't want to love nor care like this for people who's job is to constantly risk their lifes. He doesn't want to feel the anguish, he doesn't want to feel the loneliness it will come after the unenviable separation of the party.

He tries his best to not get attached to people. To not let people get attached to him. But he fails. He fails and falls downstairs with a whole drum set.

He can't help but to care about this people. He can't help but to love this people he's been living with the past few weeks in the risking of their lifes. He tells himself he's doing this for money and that he doesn't care, but he does.

Those hearts don't mean anything other than him caring about them. He cares about Senshi. He cares about Marcille. He cares about Laios. About Itsuzumi. About Namari. He cares in a way that hurts. He loves this people. He doesn't want to even imagine a world in where they are gone, or suffering, or in problems. They're his friends, they're something he, unwillingly, accepts as family.

He cares about Falin and Mickbell because he doesn't want them dead. He doesn't feel any anguish toward if they do or not get hurt after they're out of his sight. Sure, he cares, but he can live without thinking about them the rest of his days. It doesn't happen like that with Laios. He can't just simply let Laios go and follow Fallin just after he recover consciousness from a punch in the gut. Was it Mickbell, he would let him if he really didn't wanted. But Laios didn't wanted to sit and wait, and he had to care. He had to verbalize to himself that he cared. He had to let them know, so they would act accordingly. So they won't get themselves killed like idiots.

He doesn't want others to fall in romantic love with him. He doesn't feel romantic love towards anyone either. He isn't the man for this kind of love. He is, in fact, afraid of it. He doesn't want to fall in love, because he's still in love with his wife. She left him because he was negligent. But since when has this become the definitive stop for love? Chilchuck knows his wife is angry at him, and she has all the reason to be so! His husband, the one she loved and cared for, gets himself in dangerous situations, treats his body poorly and almost never is home. She loves him, and it hurts her to love like this, so she leaves. Like this she won't have to look at him get himself mistreated like he does. She would have the pull in her's stomach that tells her that he could be in great danger, that she could become a widow, but she tries to calm it with his daughter's mail to him. He could never. He can't imagine a world in wich they cease to exist. A world without his wife, even if she distanced herself, without his daughters, would be a world worthless of living. He knows this. Because he cares and he loves in such a deep level that he is scared of loving anyone else like this. To become so vulnerable to emotion. This vulnerable to something bad happening.

The fact that he is so afraid of loosing his wife, even after she left him, says a lot. He still cares about her. He is still in love with her. He wants to go back to what it was before, but he can't and he know its his fault. And he respects his wife's distance because he loves her. Now, he doesn't love her in the movie way, he isnt in love like a teenager would to his first girlfriend, he doesn't want to kiss her, or hug her, or be by her side at all moments of the day. He loves her. He cares about her deeply, deeply enough that he doesn't need to be by her side to care, to love. He also respects her. He can survive without her because he knows she's better with his daughter. For sure he wants to hug, kiss and be by the side of this person he loves, it would be ideal, but he can survive without thinking about it too much. It's just like with his daughters. They're all adults that now live far from him. And he is ok with it now. He sends mail and recieves mail, and even if he misses greatly, he can manage not to think about it. Because he knows she is allright. Because he knows he fucked up. He doesn't know where he fuked up, but for his wife to leave him, at least he knows he did. They never talked about it, because they both seem to have a problem in expressing themselves. She fell into a bad mood and then she disappeared. The amount of pain he must have felt it's... let's say it's quite big.

He keeps his guard up. He doesn't want to love deeply anyone. He doesn't want to feel the emptiness, the hurt, that comes after someone so dear leaves. He knows for a fact he'll be leaving this people. He knows that they could die. If he loves, it will hurt in a way nothing else hurts. He will miss. He doesn't like missing people he cares like this. This is why he doesn't want to love. This is why he doesn't want to be loved. This is why those hearts that are almost full are his main source of concern. This is why he makes the effort to keep this feelings at bay, to love only in the friendly way and with extreme caution.

But he can't controll his own love. And he ends up caring more and more about these people. He slowly makes him a part of the dangerous love zone that family means. He is afraid to confuse someone about his feelings towards them, so he still tries to maintain distance with his abusive remarks, but this only works so far. He loves and is loved. And because of this he will suffer.

I... I extended myself a bit I see...

#i dont even know what im talking about anymore #but i hope i made sense #as an aroace i feel the need of being extra cautious about how people think of my relationship with them #because I dont want them to like me romantically #i want friendship #because its so uncomfortablr #not #love #so this Chil here is basically me trying to figure out if saying certain things could be considered flirting or not by the other #i shouldnt care #it isnt my fault if they do fall in love with me #but i would be happier if they didnt #to know someone is in love wirh you #and that you dont love him back #but youre still friends #so youre friends but the other wants to be more than that #and to avoid that i gotta measure every interaction #maybe im a bit paranoid #but it has happened to me to have friends fall in love with me #and i dont want to hurt their feelongs but i definitely dont lovs rhem bacj #because i care abkut them in a friendly way #and i don't want them to suffer because of me. but I dont want to suffer because of them either #its all way to complicated? yes bit thing is that chil here represents me interacting with my friends #but in my case the hearts would be romantic #dungeon meshi #chilchuck #chilchuck tims #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi spoilers #my shit

[twignotstick]

So I saw an ask from @probably-not-a-rutabaga

Got sad, decided I should write sad

Here we are :,)

Words: 1,403

Warnings: Major character death (tho its implied it happened offscreen, so more just major character dead?), Grief/Mourning, general sad vibes [if there's anything missing here, tell me please!]

Other tags: tmnt: aberration, turtle tots (kinda?), sad turtle pile, all the kiddos are sad, not my characters, hurt/little comfort, bittersweet ending, no beta we die like- uh- :|

Summary: Leo finds something he never wanted to find.

Splinter hadn't left his bed for weeks.

It was no secret that he was sick. Leo had tried to keep that secret, but his brothers weren't stupid. They knew what it looked like when someone was sick. They had all been sick before.

They had just never seen it get this bad.

Leo tried to keep up hope, but every day was more terrifying than the last. Every time Splinter would start coughing, hold his eyes tightly shut and shake his head, or even just trip, Leo would be terrified. He just couldn't tell what moment would be his father's last. He didn't want it to happen. He wanted Splinter to be there for his life; for his little brothers'.

Donnie had been working tirelessly on a project, despite Leo's better judgment. Part of him wanted to scold his little brother for barely sleeping in favor of working, but the other, smarter part of him knew this was just how Donnie coped. Working until the bad thoughts don't feel so bad anymore. That was why, when Donnie was finally done, he breathed a sigh of relief.

It was Donnie's biggest project to date; a fully operational game console. Sure, it was an old Game Boy with only a cartridge of Tetris, but Donnie had saved it. He found it tossed in with some other miscellaneous materials Leo had grabbed from the surface, but it was completely unplayable then. The screen didn't work, and the sound (what little did play through the scratchy speakers) obviously didn't match up with the inputs. But somehow, with scraped together materials and a couple months of work, Donnie made it good as new. It even got a new coat of paint with Mikey's help.

Donnie was so proud when it was done, and all of his brothers gathered around to see it boot up for the first time and take turns playing.

Leo thought that Dad might like to see it, too. Maybe even take a turn.

“Dad?”

Leo shifted on his feet in the doorway, facing the dark room where his father had been for the past eternity. He saw his father's form laying under the blankets, but didn't get a response, as usual.

So he continued.

“Donnie finally finished the Game Boy. The one he told you about? It works perfect now!”

Splinter laid still.

“We all took turns playing Tetris. Donnie was really good at it.” He snorted under his breath. “We had to keep Raph from throwing it when he got mad. He wasn't that great at it…”

Silence.

“Mikey drew some really pretty designs on the back with the markers we found! They're all swirly and stuff.”

Again, silence.

“I thought you might want a go? I know you said you aren't that good with phones, but I thought…”

Too much silence.

“...Dad?”

Hesitantly, Leo approached his father's bedside. The sheets were laid neatly, just like when he had tucked Splinter in a few days ago.

A cup of water, left for Splinter to drink that day, was undisturbed on his bedside table.

Slowly, Leo lifted his hands to lay them on his father's arm beneath the sheets. He shook Splinter gently, just enough to wake him. He needs to drink, he thought, or he won't get better.

When Splinter's face stayed turned away, Leo started getting frustrated. “Dad, you need to at least look at me.”

Splinter did not turn, nor did he wake.

Leo sighed, then started climbing onto the mattress. Splinter had the nicest bed of all of them, but it was also the springiest, so it took a second for Leo to fully get his balance. Especially when he was trying to fit in the small space between his father and the edge of the bed. However, he was able to settle on his knees and look down at his father.

Splinter's face was lying to the side, and his dark hair was laid about on the pillowcase. He had neglected to cut or even brush it, so it was somewhat knotted at certain points. His eyes were closed softly, and his mouth slightly open.

His chest wasn't moving.

Leo reached over and hovered his hand in front of his father's mouth, checking for a breath.

Nothing.

“Splinter?”

He placed a small hand on Splinter's neck, searching for a pulse.

Nothing.

“Dad?!”

Leo grabbed his father's head with his hands, shaking it gently. Just enough to wake him up.

Splinter did not wake.

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

At first, Donnie wasn't sure of what he heard. He turned the Game Boy in his hands off and lifted his head, seeing if he could find the source.

“What was that for?” Raph huffed, shoving into Donnie's side. Donnie put his hand palm out toward Raph in response, still not turned to look at him.

They sat silently for a moment, then Mikey spoke. “You were doing so-” Donnie covered his mouth to shut him up.

There it was. A sob, a sniffle, coming from elsewhere in the lair.

Leo was crying.

There was no need for words; in an instant, all three brothers were on their feet and getting out of the pit. Donnie was the first one to reach their father's doorframe. There he stopped, halting his brothers behind him.

Leo was curled over Splinter's body, holding it to his chest. With every shaking sob, he would clutch the body closer. Like he was scared to let go.

Donnie turned to face his younger brothers. “G-go back to the pit.”

“What? Why?” Raph spat.

“I said, go b-back to the p-pit.”

“But Leo's crying, and-” Mikey's eyes filled with realization, and he clasped his hands over his mouth as his eyes started to water.

“Go back to the pit!”

“FINE!” Raph hissed, grabbing Mikey's arm to drag him away. “Not like Leo would even want us there anyway.”

“But- But Papa-”

“He doesn't care, Mikey.”

Mikey's tears finally spilled when they were out of Donnie's eyesight. Breathing deeply, he turned to see his big brother in despair.

He approached the bed quietly, knowing that Leo had already heard their argument. Hesitantly, he crawled up onto the springy bed and took a place behind his brother. Leo was clearly trying to stop crying, now that he had a brother to be strong for.

Silently, Donnie reached under the covers to find Splinter's wrist, if only to confirm what he knew to be true.

Something in him screamed to leave- to run away. Maybe he could find some way to fix this. But the better part of him knew that the best thing- no, the only thing he could do was work to fix what was left.

So he scooted closer and wrapped his arms around his shaking brother, letting his weight ground him. Then, he let himself break.

Leo broke the silence.

“I don't know what to do, Donnie.”

He finally lifted his head and turned, letting Donnie see his reddened eyes just a bit. He couldn't look straight at his little brother.

Donnie inhaled deeply and hugged Leo tighter.

“You do what you c-can, r-right?”

They sat like that for a while. Leo holding onto the body in the bed, Donnie holding onto him. The shedding of tears wasn't addressed.

Eventually Donnie caught another sound, just barely coming from behind him. A shuffle, and a sniff. Weight fell onto the bed. It could be mistaken for one, but Donnie knew it was two. Raph's face, soaking wet, appeared to Donnie's right before flopping onto Leo's shell.

Mikey came up on his left, crawling up further. Donnie tried to grab the lip of his shell, but the smaller shook it off easily. He laid himself down right next to their father, grabbing his face and holding their foreheads together.

“Its okay Papa,” Mikey whispered, as Leo rested a hand on his shell. “W-we're here now…”

Leo's breath hitched, but he grabbed Mikey and pulled him closer. Raph leaned deeper in the space between Donnie and Leo, and Donnie took that as a reason to wrap his arm around the turtle. The only one that could bare to look at their father now was Mikey, though it was through a curtain of tears.

The hiccups and sobs started to fade. Four little turtles laid there and wept, soaking in what warmth their father had left before it all melted away.

As all things must.

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

Hehehe

Again, these aren't my characters!! They belong to @probably-not-a-rutabaga 's awesome TMNT iteration, abberation! This fic is also just my take on how the turtles could have found out about Splinter's passing. That I wrote like, so fast-

I promise I don't just write sad stuff like this, but I just got inspired and couldn't control it. So, this is the first thing on my tumblr writing portfolio. My iteration (still unnamed, sadly) is more psychological introspective nonsense and spookiness with a sprinkling of sad, which is more my usual writing style! And still in the works,,

So in summary, check out tmnt: aberration, and thanks for reading this sad fic that actually made me tear up writing it! hahahhhaha

#tmnt #tmnt au #tmnt iteration #tmnt aberration #tmnt fanfiction #raph rly went: she dont love you no more! 😡 #more aberration stuff to come probably #im gonna be over here crying #twig writes

[possibilistfanfiction]

conservationist au already!? you write so fast dang (what are your secrets) (also it's okay if you want to keep them secret) (mostly i am excite for frog)

here she is! frog au! lol [ao3]

//

to see us blossom (while the green spreads like wings)

//

only our feet have been here, that i'm aware of. it's wild and remote and beautiful as can be. i just want to be quiet and love it. let it sink in. i'll be leaving the planet, sometime. and i'll miss it.

— dr. bruce means

//

'dr. silva,' diego bursts into your office, his hair fluffed and messy, 'i found someone for the expedition!'

'did you... run here?'

'yeah, from the lab.' he gulps a breath. 'i got excited.'

it's fucking awesome that diego, your favorite grad student, is coming on this expedition, but it's becoming a huge pain in the ass to plan — you try your hardest not to feel guilty about why, but it is mostly because of you — and is starting to feel more and more impossible by the day. you don't want to get your hopes up: you don't have that much funding, and it's starting to seem a little bit impossible logistically, even with dr. superion's help. but you'll humor him: 'so who are we taking with us?'

he waits a breath, practically bursting at the seams. 'beatrice zhang.'

'the photographer?'

'she's an experienced climber! you follow her on instagram, right?'

you have gratuitously followed beatrice zhang on instagram for the last four years — for her photography, because it is some of the most beautiful and thoughtful you've ever seen, regardless of the subject matter, but also for the occasional photo of herself, surfing or climbing or behind the camera, particularly delightful if it features her arms in a tank — but diego doesn't need to know that part. 'yes, her work is wonderful for lots of conservationist efforts.' diplomatic, you think, mentally patting yourself on the back.

'and she's hot.'

'i didn't say that.'

diego rolls his eyes.

'anyway, how would we even get her to come with us?'

diego grins. 'i emailed her.'

'what?'

he takes out his phone and shows you her instagram, which, indeed, does have an ‘email’ button, which, obviously, you've never paid attention to before. 'she hasn't responded yet, or her team or whatever, i guess, but i only sent it ten minutes ago. and it went to a legit address and hasn't bounced back, so, i just figured, why not?'

even though, last year, you had had a successful time in guyana, finding and recording a few new species, there are a lot of why not's, really: your GA probably shouldn’t be making these choices without consulting you first, but you don’t really care about that so much as your mobility is more limited than ever lately. the weather probably won't hold so who the fuck knows if it'll even be possible to reach to spot at all. and, plus, it's for a frog. one tiny frog, that may or may not exist — (you're sure it does) — in the middle of a jungle on the top of a tepui that's never been climbed. it's... a little crazy, when you think through it now, way crazier than it had seemed when you wrote the grant for funding last year. most people, even world renowned war-turned-wildlife photographers with insane biceps — especially them, probably — aren't interested in a project like this.

'well, the least that will happen is she doesn't respond,' you figure; you don't believe in any religion and life had dealt you quite the shitty hand for a long time, so if there's any balancing it out, maybe this will be a strike in the good column for you. so, 'yeah, you're right. why not?'

/

it's two days later when your phone vibrates about seven times; you roll over in... some girl's bed? okay, solid night, then, and when you look over at her, she's beautiful and fast asleep. you remember your fifth shot of tequila and vaguely how great riding her dick had been; you find your phone graciously plugged into a charger on the nightstand on your side of the bed, and when you go to the bathroom you see condoms in the small trash can — so, all in all, a success. your back is sore but not terrible and you groan when you see it's only six am, but there's texts from diego and you have a policy not to ignore those, no matter how stupid they occasionally can be.

these are unequivocally not stupid, though, because they start with dr. silva! and then ava!!!!! ava! and devolve into some emojis and then omg oh my god and finally check your email, which is really the only helpful part of that — but they're not stupid because when you do check your email, you see a forwarded message from diego first. it's a cordial reply to the email he had sent to beatrice zhang, from her, it seems, asking politely to be put in touch with the lead biologist on the expedition if possible. which, you remember with the tiniest bit of a happy jolt, is you. you open the newest email, which is, in fact, connecting you and beatrice. she’s already responded, and it’s kind of wild because, from the three short sentences asking if you could set up a video chat to talk more about the expedition or, if she happened to be close to where you were in the world, even meet near your office or lab for coffee, she sounds, well, at least interested. you don't think someone like her — someone who has photographed war, and famine, and wildfires, and, miraculously last year, a snow leopard and her cub — would even respond to something she didn't care at all about.

holy shit, you text diego. you need a cup of coffee, or, like, maybe three cups of coffee, and a breakfast sandwich before you can respond to that email, so you decide to get a move on. plus, it feels unhinged to respond to it from your phone, so you need to go home anyway. you should also maybe definitely shower, you think, as you look at yourself in the mirror: your makeup is a little smudged and your hair is an unrepentant mess. still hot though, you think when you quietly find your clothes and put your bra on, a deep teal that makes your boobs look awesome. thankfully, you were just in high-waisted, loose jeans and a cropped sweater last night, so after you wash your face and get dressed, it's not really giving walk of shame — walk of pride, thank you very much.

you google maps where you are and, thankfully, it's a nice enough morning and a short enough distance that you can walk to your favorite cafe and then to your apartment without having to call an uber. you grab your cane from where you'd left it propped up by the wall near the bed, and then, because you're definitely not an asshole, gently shake your, well, one night stand's shoulder. her eyes are green, and you do remember that much.

'i gotta go do some work, sorry.'

she nods. 'right. doctor.'

well, maybe you're a little bit of an asshole, but it's not your fault that people think you're a very important neurosurgeon or something. you are very important in cataloguing biodiversity, so you just roll with it. 'thanks for a great time.'

she nods with a soft smile, and it's nice to kiss her, gently, goodbye.

/

'wait, you're meeting with her? here?'

'yes,' you say, mostly annoyed at camila's vaguely unhinged energy. 'she's close by train, so it's better to meet in person.'

'oh my god,' camila says. she's one of your best friends and probably the smartest, most tech-savvy person you know. when you figured out how helpful it would be to have someone operate drones for you on this expedition, you hadn't even bothered to ask anyone else.

'don't you know her?'

'well, sure,' camila confirms. 'i did some drone work for her a few months ago in the bahamas when she was photographing sharks. but, like, she's amazing, ava.'

'well, hopefully she'll say yes.'

'you'll have to charm her.'

'i'm very good at charming hot women.'

camila rolls her eyes.

'i'm also very good at charming people to go find frogs with me.'

she waits for a beat and then relents. 'well, i suppose that's true.'

'come on,' you say, 'help me make a slide deck. i feel like she'd think that's sexy or something.'

'you're ridiculous.'

'it'll work, i'm telling you.'

/

beatrice zhang in soft wool pants and closed-toed birkenstocks and a crewneck sweater sitting ramrod straight at the decent cafe just off campus near your office is, quite honestly, not a sight you'd ever expected to see, but it is kind of a miracle. or, at least that's what it had felt like, when she had emailed that she was, actually, a few hours away by train and wouldn't mind a day trip to meet in person. you're glad that you wore your best professor outfit today, flared navy slacks that make your ass look divine, and a crisp white button up that you tucked in tight and rolled up at the sleeves, a camel peacoat and expensive loafers that dr. salvius had gotten you when you passed your dissertation two years ago. you usually wear... well, not this — you reserve this for conferences and presentations — but, if looking professional helps beatrice sign onto this project, so be it.

and, well, maybe it's not strictly professional to undo another button as you had walked to the cafe, and, like, you don't actually know if beatrice is gay or not, but you spot her and smile and wave and her eyes get big for a moment, and you’re afraid you’ve got it all wrong: you’re small and young and pretty and, sometimes, people think that disqualifies you from being smart. but then her eyes rake over you and linger, for just a moment, on your chest, so you're probably right. if this helps too, so be it.

you wave and she stands very formally; she clearly recognizes you, which makes you feel a small thrill of satisfaction. 'hey, glad you found it okay.'

'i've had much more difficult locations to navigate before, although the freshman can be a bit scary.'

it's deadpan, so it takes you a split second, but then you laugh and offer your hand. 'i'm dr. silva.' you want to roll your eyes at your title, which you normally feel quite proud of, all of a sudden. 'ava, any pronouns.'

'dr. silva,' she says anyway, and shakes your hand firmly. 'it's a pleasure. i'm beatrice, she/her.'

only after do you sit, a little sprawled, and prop your cane up on the table, does she sit too, and then looks down at the menu. 'do you recommend anything? i haven't had lunch yet.'

'well, if you're like, uh... —' falling prey to diet culture, you think, but you don't know beatrice at all, so — 'wanting a vegetable forward option, their salads and quinoa bowls are okay.'

she wrinkles her nose. you hide a smile in the collar of your coat.

'but their kimchi fried chicken sandwich is my favorite.'

'and the slaw?'

'well, i'm a fries girl.'

she smiles over the top of her menu, just slightly.

'but my friend likes the slaw, and i trust her.'

she nods and sets her menu down, her wrists resting on the edge of the table, her hands clasped. a practical smart watch, no wedding band. her full attention is on you and it makes you feel a little breathless.

you're saved from saying something incredibly dumb — you're very, very smart, and you're actually very good at flirting, but beatrice zhang is hot as hell and a certified badass and you also really want her to be, like, your colleague — when your server comes to your table. you both order, and you get the fried chicken sandwich too, even though you already ate lunch an hour ago — diego's always happy to eat your leftovers out of the fridge in the lab anyway.

you're not saved from saying something marginally dumb, though, because beatrice kindly thanks your server and hands over her menu and then looks at you again, fully focused.

'i like your hair,’ you say, instead of, well, anything else. you want to groan and slam your head down into the table, or something, because beatrice's brows knit together and she brings one hand to run through her floppy middle part, short in the back and on the sides, pushing it out of her eyes.

'oh,' she says, softly and definitely confused. 'thank you.'

you're sure you're blushing. 'sorry, i just, like, the last time you posted — you had long hair.'

it's mortifying, the moment you say it, because you can mentally calculate the last time beatrice posted a picture of herself on her instagram, and it was definitely over a year ago.

she also seems to realize this, because her confusion turns to a smug little smile that could probably eat you alive. you'd definitely let it.

'i read about the last species of frog you discovered, when the article came out.'

that was also over a year ago, and you laugh, tension releasing from your shoulders. 'so that’s how you knew what i looked like.’

‘sure.’

to be fair, the article did include a picture of you, muddy and sweaty and overjoyed, holding a tiny frog in the palm of your hand, but, ‘did you google me?’

‘i only take on projects, at this point, that i find interesting.’

‘so you think i’m interesting.’

she raises a brow, a scar that also wasn’t there over a year ago running an inch above it and then straight through, cleanly healed but not faded yet, stopping right on the top of her cheek — thankfully your brain didn't comment on that, even though it's kind of hot too. ‘i think that fact that you've already identified six new species of frog two years into an assistant professorship is interesting.’

'so that's a yes.' you grin. ‘want me to tell you about the project, then?'

she thanks your server when he brings her water and your lemonade of the day, and a coffee, and then leans forward in her seat. ‘yes,' she says. 'i do.’

you tell her about it as coherently as you can: you're sure there's a brand new species of frog — maybe more than one, if you're lucky — on the top of a land mass deep in the forest in guyana. you've secured enough funding to make it happen; bare bones, but still. you have diego and yasmine, your grad students, and michael, another assistant professor in your apartment who's helped you on expeditions before, mostly by carrying a bunch of shit. you've gotten camila — who beatrice is also very excited to work with again — to sign on to do tech work for you. dr. superion and dr. salvius are helping from here.

'so, anyway, i need you to climb the tepui.'

beatrice sits back when you're done, flicks through a few slides on your laptop that you'd handed to her with pictures of the jungle, the cliff face, the budget outlines and logistics and equipment you anticipate you'll need.

'do you know a lot about climbing?'

it's kind — to not assume that you don't; to not expect you to either. you shake your head no.

'i'm an alpinist, for the most part,' she says, 'which means that i climb, well —' she pauses.

'no need to be modest for me.'

she offers a small smile. 'i've climbed eight of the ten tallest mountains in the world.'

hot, you think, but you take a deep breath instead and say, 'that's impressive.' nailed it.

'yes, well.' she blushes. 'thank you. but this kind of climbing is traditional climbing — big wall climbing.'

'oh.' you frown. 'so, you can't do it?'

'i can,' she says, 'and i'd like to. i think i know enough of biology to be marginally helpful, and i can certainly photograph the expedition.'

your heart soars, warming your whole body, and you take a bite of your lukewarm sandwich to hide your smile.

'but i'll need a team. i'm confident that i'll be able to get up the wall, but i'm not experienced enough at this kind of climbing to lead on all of these passes.'

'we might not have the funds to pay much, if you bring on more people.'

she shakes her head. 'i have access to plenty of discretionary funds, so that shouldn't be a problem.'

'that's hot.' well, you tried.

she laughs, thank god. 'i just wanted to make sure that you and your team are okay with me bringing other people on.'

'as long as they aren't, like, shitty, you know. racist, homophobic, ableist. all that stuff.'

she nods, very seriously. 'i can assure you that, while one of my climbing partners is inclined to be an asshole, it's always done with respect toward important identities. she's more annoying than anything. and my other partner is the best person i know.'

'well, other than me, now.'

you can tell beatrice is torn between smiling and rolling her eyes; she does a bit of both. 'and, as far as logistics go, i could easily provide a helicopter to get us in as far as possible. less of a hike.'

it's impossible that beatrice didn't see your cane. 'i have adaptive equipment for myself. i can do the hike.'

but her brows knit together. 'yes, i assumed so: you're leading the expedition. i just meant, for my team at least, the fewer miles we have to bring photography and climbing gear in a jungle, the better. it's heavy, and then we have to do a major climb.'

'oh.' you bite your bottom lip. 'that makes sense. sorry, people suck sometimes.'

'i imagine so.' she looks at you very sincerely. 'i'm sorry.'

you wave her off. 'thanks. it is what it is, though.'

beatrice doesn't try to argue, although you can tell that maybe she wants to. 'anyway, whatever you think will help your team, and whatever will help mine, that falls outside of your grant funds, i can cover.'

'that's — are you sure?'

she nods. 'quite.'

'where did you get these discretionary funds?' you can't help asking.

'a bad man,' she says, leaning forward and whispering dramatically. it makes you laugh.

'ooh, did you kill him? warlord?'

'alas, no. my father, and he's already dead.'

'ah.' you snap your fingers. 'well, if another opportunity comes up, you just let me know. i have tons of lethal neurotoxins in my lab. i'm always down to... you know — murder —' you whisper — 'a billionaire. long haul ethics, you know?'

she nods very solemnly, fighting a smile. 'i'll keep that under advisement.'

you fight the urge to ask her for a drink, and you definitely stare at her mouth a little too long, but then you get it together and offer your hand. 'well, partners?'

she shakes it, hers strong and rough with callouses. the thought sends a little shiver up your spine, but you valiantly ignore it. 'partners.'

/

beatrice invites you, after a few days of emailing back and forth to create an updated budget and logistics plan, to meet at a climbing gym. it's to meet her other two team members first. before you all get together with your main crew for dinner afterward. she'd given you their names, headshots, and very formal bios, which you had kind of loved: lilith, who, according to beatrice's bio, will be the lead climber. when you google her, you find out that she's, like, a world champion big wall climber, so that bodes well. and then mary, another photographer and world class marksman — I know this isn't particularly relevant, beatrice had included as a footnote, but it is quite impressive — and avid climber too.

you're hopeful about it all, and you're hopeful that tonight maybe she just wants to see you alone, and to have you watch her climb. there's, like, a two percent chance you'll physically be able to climb, really, but that's fine. she'd texted you about it, far less formal than her perfectly punctuated emails, so that's a good sign. and she'd posted a recent picture someone took of her — a candid, petting the trunk of an elephant peacefully — on her instagram too. maybe that was scheduled — beatrice seems like the kind of person who would schedule instagram posts — but a girl can hope, you know? you liked it one hour and fourteen minutes after she posted, from the lab's social media account and not your personal one, so you figure you've handled this all perfectly. you're great, beatrice is a colleague, and you've got this.

you're stressed about what to wear to a climbing gym and then to get dinner afterward, although there's probably a locker room or something, but it's fine. you're hot in anything. (or nothing. not that the night is going to go there.) you settle on tight leggings you wear to the gym and a sports bra, a cropped jacket on over. it's, like, cute and femme, but also practical. you brush on some mascara and put part of your hair into a little bun so it won't fall into your eyes, and you pack a spare change of clothes in a canvas tote — slacks and a nice bra and a t-shirt that hugs your body perfectly along with a pair of platform converse and an army-green overshirt — in case everyone else changes before going to dinner.

you grab your cane and head out the door.

/

if you fall to your death, it's definitely not going to be because of your back or legs. it's going to be because beatrice is in loose pants that seem comfortable for climbing and a tight racerback tank, and when you walk in, she's hanging by one arm on a short wall, just chilling out there, before she seems to decide what she wants to do. she brings her legs up to find footholds and then she's almost upside down, holding onto the wall with both hands calmly and moving so fluidly — a leg stretching out, her chalked fingers grasping onto a tiny hold. there's a delicate tattoo along her right forearm, all linework, and there are scars all over her left shoulder, running down to her elbow from what you can see: some are jagged and some are clean, neat, like surgical incisions. they don't seem to be limiting her progress at all, because she moves over the outhanging ledge easily and then to the top before just letting go and calmly rolling to her feet after she lands without a sound.

the — very hot — woman, lilith, you know from the headshot, sitting on the floor next to the wall, legs outstretched, leaning back on her palms set flat on the ground behind, and looking impossibly graceful while doing it, groans.

'getting stuck that long on a soft V8? come on, beatrice.'

beatrice, to her credit, just shrugs.

'shoulder?' the other woman asks.

'it's fine,' beatrice says. 'just getting back into the groove of your tiny walls.'

'oh, ha ha.'

'8091 meters will really change your perspective. you should try it sometime.'

'no thanks, i'll stick to my world records, thank you very much.'

they seem like they might physically fight, but then they both start laughing. weird, but you fuck with it.

beatrice turns, her hands on her hips, and, like, whew, god fucking bless, and then waves with a smile when she sees you. she walks over. 'hello ava.'

'hey,' you say, suddenly feeling a little awkward: you have not a single idea what you're doing. 'that was pretty impressive.'

'it was not,' the lilith says.

beatrice heads toward her anyway, and you follow. 'you can ignore her most of the time,' she says. 'dr. silva, this is lilith. lilith, dr. silva.'

'just ava.' you look at beatrice with a raised brow. 'please.'

lilith lazily salutes. 'ava, then. our illustrious leader, i hear. beatrice is making me lead a 1000 foot first ascent for a frog?'

'i'm not making you do anything,' beatrice says, and lilith grumbles like a teenager. it's funny, and you decide that you like her then and there, even if she scares you a little. she scares you a little more when she gracefully gets to her feet. she's tall and imposing, with a sharp face and long hair braided back, more wiry than beatrice's bigger muscles, but — you're sure — just as strong.

she offers her hand, which you shake. 'in my defense,' you say, 'it is a very cool frog. we can even name it after you, if you want.'

this seems to amuse her, because there's a hint of a smile on her face.  'i do like first ascents anyway.'

'see,' you say, 'that's the spirit.'

'ava,' beatrice says, 'no pressure, but i thought you might find it fun to try climbing. only if you'd like.'

'i'm, uh —' you gesture a little clumsily with your cane, the tips of your ears turning red. 'not sure that i can?'

'mary is an adaptive climbing instructor,' beatrice says, gesturing over to the taller wall with ropes connected through pulleys at the top, where a strong Black woman with perfectly neat braids and a dark outfit on is sorting through a few harnesses on the ground. 'but if you'd rather not climb, lilith and i are just finishing up. we can show you a few things we've been practicing in anticipation for the route, and then change and go to dinner.'

beatrice doesn't say either choice with any more or less merit, or worth, or importance: they're choices, and they're yours, and they won't affect how much she trusts you or believes in the expedition. lilith is checking her phone, uninterested at this point, and you decide, as you always have, to try.

'yeah, sure. i have no idea what adaptive climbing is, though.'

beatrice smiles and lilith stays on her phone, texting. 'that's fine. i have no idea about ninety percent of what you study.'

'i find that hard to believe. you're a wildlife photographer.'

she hums, softly touching your elbow and then walking toward mary. 'conservationist photography, sure. but i'm not a biologist.'

you make a note that beatrice doesn't really like wildlife photographer as a job title, although she was polite enough to not outright tell you so. 'well, i'm not a climber, so, quid pro quo?'

'ah, but you will be after tonight,' mary says, standing with a smile and offering her hand. 'dr. silva, right?'

'just ava,' you tell her, endeared by the fact that beatrice had probably been very formally saying dr. silva to her team this entire time. you shake mary's hand as firmly as you can and feel immediately a little more relaxed with the confident, easy way she holds her shoulders, her kind smile, her bright eyes.

'beatrice and i go way back,' she says. 'this project of yours sounds amazing. i was excited when she asked if i wanted in.'

'of course i'd ask,' beatrice says, bumping mary in the shoulder, who rolls her eyes fondly.

'well, beatrice said you were promised an adaptive climbing lesson.'

'if you're still in,' beatrice says, 'mary can show you the ropes.' she laughs at herself. 'literally.'

mary groans, but you're delighted. 'well, don't leave me hanging.'

'no. not another bad pun aficionado. please.'

beatrice grins and you sling an arm over her slightly sweaty and delightfully strong shoulders. she stiffens a little, and mary looks to her for a moment, and you're worried you've overstepped, and fast. but then beatrice relaxes.

you step back and gesture between the two of you happily. 'is this our thing now?'

'if trading terrible puns is wrong, then i don't want to be right.'

mary groans. 'not sure why i agreed to this trip after all.'

'we can name a frog after you, if you want,' you offer.

mary perks up. 'really?'

'yeah,' you say, 'sure. i've already named one after myself and given five others the dumbest, gayest names i could think of.'

'i'm back in, then.'

you laugh. 'well, let's rock and try not to roll.'

mary sighs, but beatrice's muffled laugh into your shoulder is way worth it.

/

Hi Ava, I'll be in town today to get some equipment squared away. I was wondering if maybe you'd like to have dinner if you're free. No shop talk, unless you want

you read and reread the text. you'd gone over shitty — expected, but still shitty — test results from an mri at your neurologist's earlier today, and, even though your team seemed to gel the other night, and all of your logistics are much less daunting now that beatrice has covered some of them financially, you had planned to stay home in your favorite boxers and most comfortable hoodie and wallow with a mediocre bottle of wine and good pizza and great reality tv.

but — hey, that sounds sweet. any places in mind?

beatrice texts back almost immediately. I don't know the area too well. You can pick, if you'd like

like, you're colleagues. you're about to be in one of the most remote parts of the world together in five days, with just a handful of other people, for weeks, maybe longer. you're the leader of the expedition but beatrice is, in important ways, a leader too. she's smart and beautiful and handsome and focused. if it's a date, incredible; if it's not, you still want to know her, you still want to spend time in her gentle warmth.

any food allergies/hatred?

she responds, No, I'm pretty adventurous

still, no clarity, but you set a place and time — one of your favorite tapas restaurants with a great little bar and, if it gets late enough, a good dance floor — and then set about getting ready. you eat a banana and take ibuprofen, which hopefully will help you be able to dance without much pain, and then get as pretty as you deem not desperate for a normal dinner with a colleague to be. which, it's you, so you're still very, very pretty, including one of your very best cleavage tanks. you finish your eyeliner perfectly and blow yourself a little kiss in the mirror. for good luck, or whatever. it's science.

/

'i got tired of it,' beatrice says. 'war photography is...' she pauses, and shakes her head, like she doesn't quite know what to tell you. you're totally sure she's not telling the truth, not really, but you know not to push, to spook her away. 'i could leave,' she settles on. 'as much as i hate the west, as much as i hate american and european, especially british, foreign policy, and its destruction of the world — i got to take pictures, and leave. at first, i thought it was something important i could do, to record the truth. political inherently, anti-imperialist, without being in politics. but, i was in occupied palestine, and, then, after —' she clears her throat, brings her fingers up to ghost over the scar through her brow — 'after. i couldn't do it. they're wars because of my history — our collective history — but they weren't my wars. they aren’t my wars. i can’t photograph them, at least right now. because i got to leave.'

you're horrified that she might start to cry — which isn't horrifying, not at all, you cry all the time, but you're supposed to be having a nice meal with your colleague and you had asked what you thought was an innocuous question about how she got into her more recent conservationist work, but clearly, not innocuous. you're starting to think, with a kind of clarity you very rarely have about anyone, that nothing about beatrice herself is innocuous. even her collarless button down and loose pants cuffed at the ankles — and the way all of her clothes, ever practical, drape with a tailored casualness on her small, strong frame — her easy hair that’s always actually perfectly trimmed and styled, the pattern of callouses on her hands: everything about her is intentioned. she means what she says. she means what she does. she means who she is.

'i started studying frogs with my mom,' you offer. it's true, and you mean who you are too.

she takes a sip of her water and nods in what you can tell is a quiet relief.

'my family is from manaus. my mom wasn't a scientist or anything, she was a bank teller, but when i was little, we'd go out often. she loved the rainforest, so, you know, i loved the rainforest.'

beatrice smiles gently. 'that sounds beautiful.'

you stare down at a croqueta and tear a small piece of it off, let the old ache fill your chest. 'she died, when i was seven.'

'oh,' beatrice says, 'i —'

'— it was a long time ago,' you say.

'sometimes that doesn't make it hurt any less.'

it's permission, to feel how you need to. most people accept when you tell them that and move on in relief, unwilling or unable to give you the space. but beatrice sits steadily. 'i broke my back, during the car accident we were in; we were visiting spain and, well. i had to relearn to walk. it took a really long time, and the orphanage i grew up in wasn't big on good physical therapy or really any care, so i taught myself what i could outside of school, got into university, got good medical care for the first time, like, ever. and i started studying biology. i went back to the rainforest as soon as i could, as a research assistant, and guyana was ... it's mind-blowing, bea.'

she weighs it all in contemplative silence for a moment, trying to decide what you need; what relief she can give. ‘i can't wait to see. i've always wanted to go.'

it is relief, what you feel, to be so immediately seen and understood. 'well, it's not just anyone i'd want to bring to the rainforest. my mom's favorites were always frogs, so —' you shrug, suddenly a little at a loss.

'so here we are, about to go find another.'

you pop the croqueta into your mouth, feel the dull pain in your chest dissipate when you realize you're close enough to beatrice's face to see her freckles. 'i have spinal stenosis, from the accident. it's progressing pretty fast, even with the best medical team, tech, surgeries, all that.'

she nods, like she understands what you mean without making you have to say it. it's a gift, bigger than she probably knows.

'i really want to find that fucking frog.'

'well,' she says, and lifts her glass, 'to finding our frog.'

'you know, it's bad luck to toast with water.'

she frowns. 'i don't usually drink.'

'you're very... controlled.'

she waits a beat and then grins. 'okay, one beer.'

'fuck yeah!'

'one, ava.'

'mhm. whatever you say, bea.'

/

'i have to take the train back,' beatrice argues — or, at least, tries to argue, because her eyes drift down to your boobs when you take your sweater off. success.

'you can just stay at my place. i have a mediocre ikea couch.'

'i can't let you sleep on your own couch.'

you laugh. 'oh, you definitely get the couch. i need all the good mattress support i can get before i sleep in a tent for a month.'

she smiles, gently and a little sad, but then the moment passes, a kind of grace. 'fine.'

'really?'

the set of her shoulders is looser but still sure, still so, so certain. 'yes.'

'hell yeah!' she laughs. 'shots?'

beatrice pulls a face but you order lemon drops anyway, mostly because vodka seems neutral and they're a good shot for people who don't drink often, sweet and tangy and fun. beatrice sniffs hers first — bold move, big mistake most of the time — but then nods in approval.

'to our frog,' you say, and she clinks her glass with yours. you touch it to the bartop and she follows suit, and then take it as smoothly as you can. it's an easy drink, so you don't have any problems, and she swallows without too much of a grimace. 'okay?'

'it's not bad,' she says, and your whole body hums, probably because of the two margaritas you had with dinner and this shot now, but also because there are freckles stretching across her cheeks and gold flecks in her brown eyes and if you let yourself look closely a tiny split on her lip, probably from the dry, cool air recently.

you shake yourself out of... whatever that was, and you order two more shots; she takes hers without hesitation this time, laughing when you spill a little down your cheek. she reaches a hand and wipes with her strong hand, tender, over the corner of your mouth, down to your jaw, and then clears her throat, takes her hand back quickly, although you want to ask for her to stay. but instead, 'come on, bea,' you say, 'let's dance!'

she only groans in a show of protest for posterity, you're sure, because she's very strong and you're very small and when you tug on her wrists she follows you easily.

you love to dance; you have always loved to dance: what little you remember of your mom is full of green, the rainforest and the wall of your living room. she would push back all the furniture to the edges, just the two of you in a small apartment, where you slept in the same bed and ate fruit from the trees outside. she would put on britney spears and jump around with you; she would put on stevie nicks and hold you in her arms, swaying around. she was full of light, from what you remember, always ready to read to you, in portugese and in english; to help you with your math and your handwriting. she cut your food for you and bought you new shoes when yours wore through the soles. she had been a good mom in the way good moms are: happy to hold your hand, to rub her nose against yours, to let you eat the batter off the spoon. you don't remember much, not before the accident, but it had been easy, and beautiful — the mist and orchids and green, all around.

beatrice is a little stiff until you start jumping around, fully out of time with the music, just to make her laugh. and she does, a smile lighting up her whole face. her body is graceful like this too, like it's always somehow known exactly how to move. you wonder, fleetingly between songs, what she was like as a child, if she was as sure and smart and kind as she is now. someone crowds into her space from behind and then you're not thinking of anything other than the tickle of her hair against your cheek as she presses into you, the lilt of her laugh into your ear, the hard muscles of her shoulders and the soft, small swell of her hips when you bring your palms to rest there. you're drunk and she's beautiful, and you've kissed lots of beautiful people when you've been drunk. but she closes her eyes and sways to the beat and it's like the rest of the world falls away. it's like there's only you and beatrice and the cloud forest, above anything else that has harmed and will harm again. there's her gold skin and scars and tattoos hidden under her shirt, the healed slices down your spine, the air between your bodies: sweaty, sticky with spilled drinks, thumping bass, everyone else in this bar. there's only the two of you, and it's a little like you've been punched in the gut: you're falling in love with her. it's easy, right now, to put a name to it all, when you can look at her jaw without reproach.

she opens her eyes and looks at you, a smile on her face, and leans in your direction. it's easy, to bring your hand to touch where you had been staring, to say, 'bea,' as she laughs into your neck, says, 'this is so fun, thank you.' it's hard to not kiss her, but she's ... extraordinary, and you don't want your first kiss to be in the middle of a mid-at-best dance floor after a few shots. you want it to be somewhere beautiful. somewhere you already know; somewhere you're certain she'll love.

'let's go home,' you say, because you had done another round somewhere between songs and she's slightly unsteady on her feet. she nods into your neck and you take her hand.

/

you walk back to your apartment with her, one arm looped through hers — 'very gallant,' you'd said when she'd offered, and even in the dim light from the moon and streetlamps you had seen her blush — and your other hand using your cane. she had found it for you, tucked behind where you had been sitting at the bar; she hadn't asked anything about why you didn't use it when you were dancing, or why you need it now. you know so many good people and you organize a lot with some of your other friends who work with the disability center at the university, but there is some kind of a revelation about being seen so wholly.

but maybe you're also just a little drunk, because she sways a bit as you walk and her accent is lilting, tender, her hair messy in her eyes. it's probably as soft as it looks; you had lost your hair tie somewhere between shots two and three and you tuck yours behind your ear. you have so many questions you want to ask her but you hold them in because she looks up at the moon and the stars and it's enough, to be here with her. to know her laugh, now, and the way she has hurt too.

it's enough to just walk.

/

it hadn't actually taken too much convincing — after you unlocked the door and gave her some choices in pajamas, soft sleep shorts and a big cotton crew her eventual choices, and gotten her a glass of water and a few cheddar crackers — to get her to agree to sleep in your bed with you. perhaps it had been because your couch is ... an unknown number of years old — 'listen, bea, phd students make, like, no money, and it was twenty bucks on craigslist three years go' — or maybe, maybe, it's because she just wants to.

you settle in first, listen to her brush her teeth with a spare toothbrush you'd given her, and wash her face with your facewash — that she had frowned at, accidentally rude but pretty funny and, like, fair, you got it from the drug store on the corner and you're sure she has a whole understated fancy little routine when she's not out in the field — and then wash her hands after going to the bathroom. you love sex, so you sleep with people often. you've had a boyfriend before, that you cared about deeply, so there's some parts of intimacy that are familiar to you, of course. but this, beatrice carefully climbing into bed next to you, with her freckles and her eyelashes and the pink of her lips, is different: you're not going to kiss her, not right now. you're not going to reach out and put your palm on her jaw like you want to, or feel the warm skin of her ribs, the goosebumps that would inevitably rise there if you raked your nails across the ridges. you're not going to because, you know, somewhere elemental in you, that you want to know her, and love her, for a long time. you want to take her to the rainforest.

'where's your favorite place in the world?' you ask instead, whisper it into the dark, the soft outline of her face.

she's turned toward you, her hands tucked carefully under her chin; it makes her look younger. 'tibet. the himalayas.'

'makes sense. you and your big mountains.'

'what's the last mountain you... summited?'

'annapurna. it's the tenth tallest in the world.' she pauses, considering. 'are we playing twenty questions?'

her eyelids are drooping. 'i don't think you're going to be awake for twenty questions.'

she laughs softly. 'i want to ask you one, though.'

'hmm. sure. two to four questions, then.'

'do you... uh, well, okay. do you like women?'

it's so awkward, so out of place for someone so sure, that you have to fight the urge to burst out in laughter. but it's also soft, and nervous, her eyes wide. it makes you feel sixteen again, full of possibility. 'yeah, bea. i'm bi. i love women.'

she nods, tucks her hands even tighter under her chin, lets a big relieved breath out. 'cool.'

'yeah?'

'mhm. i'm a lesbian, if you didn't know.'

you want to say you're the gayest looking person i've ever met but you refrain. for the romance of it all. 'good to know.'

she tries hard to wink and fails miserably. you let yourself, just once, just for a moment, reach out and run your hand through her hair. she leans into your touch, relaxes under it, before you fold yourself back onto your side of the bed. 'you have one more question.'

'so do you.'

'okay. hmm. favorite ice cream flavor?'

she laughs. 'that's what you want to know.'

you nod. 'it's very important information.'

'okay.' she thinks hard about it, genuinely. 'mint chocolate chip?'

'that's so boring, jeez.'

'oh, i'm sorry. simple combinations of dynamic tastes is probably too sophisticated for you to understand.'

'okay, ratatouille.'

she tries, a valiant effort, to not crack a smile, but she eventually does. 'okay, my turn. favorite color?'

you let your eyes fall closed and imagine it all, the sharp thorns and the torrential rain and the chirp of the neon blue frog you'd found last time. you think about taking her there. 'green, of course,' you tell her, a promise, a future in the clouds. 'green.'

#conservationist au #conservationist au 🐸 #ft butch bea but we gotta have different tags lol but she's here #just ch1 but ch2 is the expedition! #avatrice #avatrice fic #wn #wn fic #frog au #i guess bc y’all love that lol

[thequietkid-moonie]

Secretly dating

[ HEADCANONS ] [ Tarzan, Eugene, Nier ]

[ Tarzan ] [ Tangled ] [ NieR Replicant ]

Wuuuuu I like your idea, I start to think that this is one of your favorites prompts since I had saw you write it often

Anyways, thanks a lot for requesting it!! I had a lot of fun while writing, since I saw the request I been quite excited to write it!

Besides, i love Nier!!!

Tarzan

For Tarzan everything he does with you is a new and learning experience, he is a quick learner so it won't take him much time before learning about the whole thing that is dating (if you guide him he mostly just follow what you tell him, besides with the gorilas he learned about mating so even if it isn't the same he isn't completely cluelest)

Tarzan doesn't feel shy nor ashame of his feeling for you, it would take him a while to fully understand his feeling (or express them to you, he does tries to be sweet while doing it, he does know a little about courting), however, as much as he doesn't have any problem with being open with his love he understand that it may not be the best idea to tell his friends and family about it

Kerchak doesn't trust the other humans, and he barely accept him in the herd, Tarzan fears a little how he would react knowing that he not just went against his orders by approaching them but also start dating one, so he chose not to say anything for now

Tarzan finds himself stuck between wanting to be with you, wanting to learn more from you and even show you his own world, and wanting to be with his family and protect both sides, it could be a little difficult for him to find an balance between the two parts but at the end of the day he manage to make it work

If you are interested on him and his family he will be hesitant to even talk about the topic, for his wish to protect you he just keep the problem to himself until he manage to order his thoughts and explain the situation to you (he needs some time to talk to you about it because he wants to be able to make you smile, and bringing this troubles to you will probably upset you, or even worst, make you feel guilt)

This situation probably won't last much time, or at least he won't hide it for a long time, the first days he can easily come up with an excuse but soon he will have to explain it at least to his friend, Terk and Tantor, and his mother, they know him too well to don't know that he has something in his hands, it can be a difficult for them to understand and accept it (specially for his mother) but at the end they will be really supportive over it (as long as you don't wish harm to him or anyone else from the pack or try to take him away from them), Terk and Tantor will even try to help him cover up and come up with excuses to all the time he's away from the herd or inform him if anything happens in home

He doesn't talk about it much but Tarzan is well aware that he can't keep it as a secret forever and has to think a plan quick, there is the risk of you having to return home, his family finding out or even his family having to go further in the jungle, searching for a safer place to be in. He tries to came out with a plan himself, not wanting to bother you with it

Flynn Rider

Flyn has a lot of reasons to why he should keep your relationship as a secret, he is a thief, he is searched by the authorities and has to constantly sneak, hide and run away, and not just that be he has some enemies, criminals too, since he had betrayed some people a few times, and last but most important reason he cares about you and a lot, he can't help but want to keep you away from his criminal life, even if you were a thief or something of those lines he still want to protect you

Flyn will not admit it out loud but he is scare of the posibility of something bad happening to you, you are too important for him, it upsets him and makes him anxious when you are in distress or even hurt (if something happens to you because of what he does he won't be able to live with himself)

If you two are in a serious relasionship is because he trust you a lot, he will only allow himself to be in a relationship when he is sure that he loves you, that he can trust you and that he actually want to spent his life with you, it took a long time but he let himself be more open and sincere in the relationship (soon or later he will even tell you his real name), his relationship with you is almost the only thing sincere and genuine in his life and that is why he wants to keep it safe

Besides, not all is bad, he does want to keep hidden from the world his love out of security but it actually doesn't take long before he start to like this kind of dinamic, the idea of having to be hidden, giving you quick kisses and hugs to show you that he love you but having to be quick so no one see you two, having to be sneaky but flirty (he just can't stop being teasingly and flirty whenever he has the opportunity, specially if you are more shy or easy to flustered), or even just having to make plans for dates in places that are far from the crowds, somewhere is just the two of you, he end up loving all of that and even have a lot of fun while doing it

But just as he start enjoying being sneaky he start to crave more and more your company, as time pass the desire to have a more open relationship with you grows more and more, at some point he start thinking on having a change, thinking that having a peaceful life without all this problems, having a life where he can be with you without having to worry about you getting hurt or having to run away in any moment will be actually good (but he doesn't really say it out loud), he wonder if he will enjoy having that kind of life too, but is more likely that he already knows the answer (although, he is an ambitious man, he also wants to have quite a lot of things because he doesn't want to have to worry or limit non of you in what he can offer)

Nier

First of all, it wasn't even Nier's intention to keep your relationship as a secret, is just that he was soo busy and anxious that he forgot to tell others. Also, at first it took a while for him to accept and get used to be in a relationship, losing Yonah and Kaine was too much for him and he was just scare to drag you into the danger, but at the end he couldn't deny how happy you make him so at the end you start dating (is also to Weiss' insistance, saying that he shouldn't punish himself, that everything in his life doesn't have to be lost and sadness)

Nier isn't the most affectionate in public just because he is more focused on his work, on searching the Shadowlord and fighting the shades, he keeps the display of affection when is just you two (normally Weiss leave you alone to give you space, but is always with the excuse of not wanting to see you two all lovey dovey), where he can relax and feel like everything will be alright because is just the two of you

As well, if you two travel together that lead you two to have more time together and Nier has no problem with giving you little kisses or holding your hand, although he does it when he knows there is no threating around (he is too scare of losing you too)

Despite not being so affectionate in public is kinda obvious that there is something between you two, whenever you two are together you are always really close, sometimes even Nier has his hand on you (back, shoulder, arm, depending in how he feels), and even if you were affectionate it won't be so strange because even before dating Nier used to accept the affection without much troubles, but what make it even more obvious is the look of pure adoration and love he has whenever you are having time for yourselfs. But at the end, if non of you say something about it, it will stay still in doubt if you two are already together or not

Besides, traveling with you two it feels like a big family, even before you two were dating, so that fact make it even more unsure but at the same time obvious

Since it is still unsure if you two are together or not is more probably that Devola and Popola will try to set the two of you together, they love both of you and despite everything they cherish for your happiness, they try to don't be so direct while helping you two get together or while giving Nier some advice to what to do (for what he probably won't think much of it or take it as just a little advice about dating, in any case he just thank them)

Nier just asumes that the others (or at least the people he cares about) knows about your relationship if they don't ask, so is just up to you to clarify it or until they end up finding out (although, if they ask Nier, he won't even hesitant in confirming your relationship)

Requested by @frickingnerd

#disney x reader #tarzan x reader #tangled x reader #flynn rider #flynn rider x reader #flynn x reader #nier replicant #nier replicant x reader #nier x reader #nier #x reader #x gn reader #video games x reader #cartoons x reader