#I could be a girl a boy both or neither depending on whether or not you've opened the metaphorical box to take a peek inside | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

doofnoof · 1 year

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Hey Bug I read your tag response to the oc post and I have a question you’re not obligated to answer!

Pronouns and gender interest me, especially when people use ones that aren’t the same as/associated with their sex, and I’m curious if there’s a reason why you use both it/its and they/them?

It/its is commonly used to refer to objects, and I’m wondering if you use those pronouns because of that (the association of something outside the binary) or because it’s just gender neutral.

This is very random and I hope I worded it okay :)

I was writing a longer thingie here, but I'm shortening it here because I could talk for Hours about Gender. So. For me, gender was always a prison. I was expected to be a Girl, and as a girl I could really only reach for Second Best most of the time. It sucked.

I finally felt like myself when I made friends (real friends) for the first time in Washington, which was a much more liberal area than where I had been raised. Nobody really bullied me any more, and I finally found someone that made me feel like I didn't have to be afraid to be Myself. Eventually I found out that I liked girls and that it was an okay feeling for someone who was also a girl to have. I made friends with my friend's friends and their younger sibling, who I got along with as a Fellow G1 My Little Pony Fan And Toy Collector.

Something still didn't feel right though. I was finally Myself, but I still woke up every day cursing god that I was a girl and was expected to do and want girl things. It sucked. I didn't wanna be a girl. I didn't wanna be a boy either, I was just trading out glittery pink princess shackles for metallic blue football shackles. Shackles are still Shackles no matter how cool they look, and I'm not one to just go along with what everyone else wants me to do, at the very least I'll fight the whole way.

One day, my friend's younger sibling pipes up in our group chat and says "Hey I'm Nonbinary and use They/Them Pronouns, please call me [Name] instead of [deadname] from here on out." I didn't know what all of these words meant at all. So I messaged them and asked, because what else are ya gonna do?? They filled me in on the whole thing with Gender being a Spectrum, and they were simply choosing No Gender With Left Beef. Once they were done explaining I almost couldn't believe what I'd heard, it was like they'd taken every secret desire in my heart and said "hey this is possible and also super cool and you can do what you want actually." Like it really did just all fit into place for me. A little while later I came out as nonbinary because I didn't wanna steal their thunder but I was 110% ready to be Done with the whole Girl Thing. Didn't decide to go by a different name until I told my mom that I'm nonbinary. She still doesn't get it and won't use the name I've chosen even to this day, but you can't win 'em all, and I'm glad to finally know who I am.

I don't feel a lack of gender though, if anything I feel Almost Too Much Gender. White isn't the absence of color, but it's actually all colors at once. When light shines through a prism, it refracts into a rainbow. That's the closest I can get to explaining my gender. I'm genderfluid, so some days I'm more purple than blue, or more yellow than green, but they're all there in different amounts, you just can't see it unless I shine a light on it, really. They/Them also works because I contain multitudes. It's Great. Gender is a Spectrum and I'm a Rainbow.

Onto the it/it's thing. I've always loved insects and little creatures Too Small and Strange to Put a Gender To, most people can't look at a Roly-Poly and say Oh That's A Girl Insect, they just hold it up on their finger and admire it's cute little antennas. I've Always Fucked Heavily With That. But that's not what fully It/It's'd My Gender. I was at college and having moved to a Much Less Liberal Place Than Washington, there was a group of girls making fun of trans people for Anything They Could Think Of because they're bigoted and slurs are funny or whatever. I mentioned that I'm gay and use they/them pronouns, and cracked a few Tumblr Jokes™ like the good old "I'm about to make your pronouns was/were," and got a few laughs. And then the girl that started this whole mess was uncomfortable that the spotlight wasn't on her anymore and said some unfunny shit like "lol this table's pronouns are it/it's!!! Lmao!!! how ridiculous 😂🤣😂🤣" and I decided then and there that those are gonna be my pronouns. And funny enough, even after I left college, the pronouns stuck, I really like them! They feel comfortable, like the right pronouns for a Bug such as Myself.

My Gender Journey has mostly been stumbling into different Gender Things and trying them on, and if I don't like it then the gender goes back on the rack. If I do I just take it home with me and style it however I please. Gender doesn't have to be a prison!!!! Sometimes it can be your fucking home!!!!!!! It's Great!!!!!!!!

TLDR: friend freed me from gender prison and I found they/them pronouns bc I have lotsa the Gender Fluid in me, someone made fun of it/its pronouns so I decided to make it uncomfortable for them to be transphobic, ended up Liking it/its pronouns.

Can't believe that this is the shortened version of my original post. Thank you for asking Minty!!!!!! This was a fun trip down memory lane :)

#bug barks #bug writes #minty-skull-armour #this is a little scary because there are still Some Very Unenlightened People around tumblr and I'd like to avoid them #but this was also very fun for me anyways :3 #to answer your question Both! I'm schroedinger's gender #I could be a girl a boy both or neither depending on whether or not you've opened the metaphorical box to take a peek inside #not my pants tho. if you look in my pants you'll find shiny quarters and candy wrappers. maybe a coupon.#you worded this question just fine btw dw about that!!!#I hope I got my point across alright too!!

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libraincarnate · 1 year

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astrology notes: 1 ❅

‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎₊‎

quick note: i’m absolutely not an astrologer. these are just a culmination of some observations, thoughts, theories, and personal experience. above all this is just for fun.

the third astro note has the slightest bit of nsfw. nothing crazy but still, 18+. if not, skip that one lol.

lastly, unfortunately while reading this post you are NOT the main character (oh I know, bummer :/) therefore these may or may not apply to you. but, you might find something to be true about your friends, family, or crush. 😘 enjoy!

1. empty 3rd & 9th house: having never been on a plane/traveled outside of your home country, driving rarely even if you know how, or only traveling short distance, not for long & not often. could be much more of a home body.

hmm, could having an emtpty 3rd & 9th house = possible motion sickness or home sick when traveling?

2. check the persona chart of your dominant planets. so, if you are mercury, neptune, and mars dominant, check those persona charts for further detail, insight, and understanding of those planets regarding how they play out for you & how they're expressed in your life.

for example, having an aquarius venus in the birth chart: usually detached & not outright expressive with their feelings because of an emphasis on logic, friends to lovers but still friends while lovers, attracted to someone described as different or quirky.

but you also notice that you are attracted to those who are the bad boy/girl, intense, deep, all about you types too and you can even have a bit of these traits as well. come to find out you have a scorpio venus or venus in the 8th house in your venus persona chart but this can be subtle, or not, depending on various factors. so the persona chart can show you another layer to the planets in the birth chart.

3. heavy/prominent capricorn: might typically have rbf & suppress or want to control their emotions. they feel it inwardly but don’t express it outwardly. with that being said, capricorn and/or saturn in the 8th house might not have an expressive face during sex, could even avoid prolonged eye contact. even more so if capricorn venus, mars, or both in the 8th house.

4. sags: might be flashy, vain, or arrogant about many things but they don’t really boast their intelligence though they are very smart and thoroughly know/understand a variety of interesting subjects which they are also able to teach well.

5. virgo in the 4th house: kind of taking control at home in regard to bringing order, organization, micromanaging, being bossy towards family, keeping things clean, etc. can be stressful if you have messy family members when you can’t stand to be around mess & filth.

6. having scorpio placements is so funny, even if it's only one. you could have heavy libra, pisces, and gemini in your chart but that scorpio will give you a layer of intensity & depth even if you’re the only one who's aware of it.

7. mercury in 5th house: can have dramatic, exaggerated and/or loud speech.

if you have mercury in retrograde you might not be loud or someone who yells, and you hate getting yelled at.

8. gemini moon: using humor to cope with heavy emotions & their problems whether intentional/aware or not.

my favorite number is 8 so we’ll stop there. this is my first one so it’s short & sweet. 🍭

ending with this, someone please tell me what placements might indicate an attraction to the eyes. i have no aries/prominent 1st house placements in neither my birth chart nor my venus persona chart. i know there doesn't need to be an astrological explanation but just curious.

if you read this until the end I hope you enjoyed it & thank you so much for reading. ♥︎♥︎♥︎, those hearts are for you.

#astrology #astro observations #astrology observations #astrology notes #astro notes #libraincarnate

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foreverdolly · 1 year

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29 & 49, austin!tex, dark romance. I basically want more in that same universe as your other austin!tex work honey

𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐉𝐄𝐒𝐔𝐒 | 𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧!𝐭𝐞𝐱 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

prompt: "I can't. . .please. . . I can't take it anymore." and "good boy."

word count: 2.5k

song: cinnamon girl - neil young

notes/warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT! a rosary is used for. . . stuff. this fic is absolutely filthy good lord. tex legit worships you and thinks of you as his own personal goddess. i hope you love this, baby.

Not before Tex, that is.

Again and again, he had proved to you that he would never do anything that might put you in danger. You were the one thing in the world that he really wanted to protect. He’d been spiraling before he met you. He had been searching for a purpose, and now that he had found one? He wasn’t willing to ever let that go. Let you go.

You knew that Tex was ultimately stronger and more capable in a fight, so he’d easily be able to keep you there with him even if you weren’t willing to stay. Yes, you had been taken against your will- but that didn’t mean that you had no control. If anything, you’d never felt more powerful in your life.

Because Tex depended on you for happiness.

You weren’t too far gone not to notice how unhealthy the relationship between you two was. It was codependent and it was unpredictable- but it was also passionate and real. He hadn’t been a very good person before he met you. He was pretty evil, actually.

But he treated you like a Goddess. The man prayed to you before bed each night. You were his entire world.

Maybe it was wrong of you to love it so much, but you did. It had been impossible not to fall in love with Tex.

It felt nice getting away from the ranch for a few hours some nights. Both you and Tex were still formulating a grand scheme to get out of that house and away from Charlie. Though neither of you would say it, you knew that getting out as soon as possible was the best idea.

The two of you would climb into whatever car was available and drive thirty minutes further up the mountain. The view was beautiful up there at night, what with all the stars and sprawling farmland.

You hadn’t bothered asking whose car you were in when Tex hurriedly led you outside, excitedly jingling some car keys with his free hand.

It was an old, weather worn truck. It had probably once been a beautiful mint green color, but now it was spotted with rust and small scratches. Still, the old thing started up without a problem when Tex turned the key. Smalltalk was hard when all the two of you did was spend time together.

Surprisingly, Tex was fond of deeper, more intimate topics of conversation. He asked about whether or not having a family was important to you. He talked to you about theology and music. He talked about things that had happened in his past, and that those things most likely contributed to the way that he had turned out. How he had run into Charlie and got tied up in all of that mess.

It was Tex’s desperate yearning for a family that led him on his current path of death and destruction.

He was trying to change. Now whether it was because he genuinely disliked who he had become or solely to please you, you still weren't sure.

Dropping acid in an old, rundown truck probably wasn’t a good idea. Especially since you were just off of the main dirt road. Tex had turned the headlights off, but anyone could bump into you on the way to their homes. You were too busy looking at Tex to really care too much though.

His black dyed hair was starting to get even longer, his chestnut brown hair now visible at the roots. He was perfect with his big blue eyes and bubblegum lips. It was hard to keep your hands off of each other whenever you did any sort of drugs, especially psychedelics. All of your senses were heightened, and his skin somehow felt velvet soft against your fingers. You pressed your thumb against his lower lip, dragging it down ever so slightly so that you could get a better look at his lower teeth. One of his lower canines was slightly crooked, but other than that his teeth were perfectly straight.

“I’ve never had one cavity in my life. I’ve been mighty blessed, I think.” He mumbled, his chest vibrating with each word.

You were straddling him in the driver's side of the car, one of your knees tucked against the doorframe and the other one pressed against the armrest. You’d somehow ended up in his lap just a few seconds after the LSD kicked in. It was almost instantaneous with tabs. You’d learned to brace yourself for the odd wavy visuals.

“Very blessed.” You nodded your head, biting your lower lip as you tried to keep yourself from smiling.

Tex seemed to notice, his own lips pulling up into a wide grin to match yours. His palm had been resting on the middle of your back, but suddenly became aware of the fact that he was now brushing his hand up and down your side absentmindedly. Your entire body broke out in chills. He noticed the way you shivered, his eyes twinkling with mischief.

“Does that feel good?” He asked, blue eyes flickering down to your lips and then back up to stare into your eyes.

You managed to nod, your hands moving up his chest and over his broad shoulders. It was his turn to shiver then, his grip on you tightening, pulling you further into his lap. Your fingers slipped under the collar of his shirt, feeling the skin of his back.

Some days there was nothing to do around the house to pass the time aside from fucking. Listening to album after album while smoking pot was only fun for a limited amount of time, and there was nothing left to do except to chase a different sort of high. You couldn’t count how many times you and Tex had sex over the two months that you had been staying with him. Some days it was nonstop. The second that he caught his second wind he was pulling you back into the room that the two of you shared.

Even after all of that though, it still hasn't lost its novelty. Your fingers explored the expanse of his chest like it was a foreign land, tracing each scar like you were making a roadmap out of them. And he was beautiful in the pale light of the moon. He was staring up at you as though you were some prophet, sent down to lead him to a new world.

A better world.

One by one, the two of you began to peel off articles of clothing, not caring where anything ended up. The man took advantage of the unusual height difference, leaning forward so that he could place an opened mouth kiss directly in the middle of your chest. His long eyelashes brushed against your collarbone, his long hair tickling your shoulder as he moved down, down, down.

And then he was cupping your breasts, feeling the weight of them in his hands.

“I’m so glad that these are mine.” He spoke so softly that you could barely make out what he was saying.

There was nothing in the world that beat the feeling of Tex being seated up inside of you. You could feel every inch of him practically in your stomach, pushing up against your insides. It was deliciously painful now that you were on top, pushing him even deeper than usual. Tex had barely pulled down his jeans, in too much of a hurry to feel all of you to worry about his clothes. His belt buckle was digging into the sensitive skin of your thigh as you moved your hips against his.

You didn’t care enough to tell him that it hurt, because you were positive that it would leave a mark. And you wanted that. Every bruise, bite mark or scratch was worn with pride. They were constant reminders that the both of you belonged to each other.

Tex was usually the dominant one. He enjoyed taking care of you in bed. Being in control was something that he preferred. It wasn’t because he didn’t trust you to take the reins, but because he enjoyed watching your expressions. He loved pounding into your small, soft little body and listening to your sounds of pleasure knowing that he was the one that was causing it all. It was hard for him to do much of anything other than fuck up into you, meeting you halfway as you raised up and down on your knees.

Your thighs were burning and quivering, but you didn’t care. Suddenly you understood just what was so good about being on top. Tex was a blubbering mess, his eyes blown out wide, cheeks a bright pink as he tried to control his breathing. Still, you continued to move against him, even when he gently began tapping at your hip, trying to silently communicate with you that he was close.

You didn’t care. You even moved his hands away from sides when he tried to stop you, moving your hips even faster against his.

“O-Oh fuck-” He panted, out, his hand clumsily bumping into the armrest as he tried to grip onto something- anything as the pleasure kept building.

You recognized that look in his eyes. Knew he was about to cum- but you wanted it.

“H-Honey. . .” He was trying to warn you and try to get you to stop.

But he was too high and it all felt too good. Your hips were moving relentlessly against his, and your pussy was so warm and tight around him. He pressed his face into your chest as he climaxed, repeating your name again and again like it was some broken prayer. You could feel his cock twitching inside of you, pumping you full. Warming you up from the insides. You didn’t stop moving against him though. Even when you were sure that he was finished.

He was a shaking mess, his eyes filled with tears as he pulled his face away from your chest so that he could look at your face. He looked pitiful, still shaking with the aftershocks of his climax as you continued using his oversensitive dick.

“I can’t- please. . . I can’t take it anymore.” He was begging you.

Despite his tears and twitching muscles, he didn’t make any move to try and get you off of him. He could have lifted you easily.

You could feel that all too familiar tightening in your abdomen, and telltale sign that you weren’t too far off. Tex must have felt you tightening around him, because his hands, albeit a little shaky, moved to your hips. He helped you move on top of him, clenching his teeth and staring up at you. He was watching your face intently, wanting to watch you fall apart.

“I-If you’re a good boy then I’ll reward you.” You panted out, bracing a hand on his bare chest. You were finding it hard to move anymore, the pleasure starting to render your limbs useless.

The brunette’s blue eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath through his nose.

“You’re gonna reward me by comin’ on my cock? I know I’ve got more cum to give you, so please. Keep goin’. Don’t stop.” He had such a filthy mouth. He never had a problem with telling you exactly how he felt.

Normally you would have said something to him to egg him on, but the promise of being packed full with even more of his seed had you falling over the edge. His large hand reached up and gripped onto your throat as he felt your walls clench down hard around him, keeping your face tilted down so that he could see it.

See your precious lips part and your eyes roll back.

“G-God you’re so hot. Holy fuck.” The urge to squeeze your throat even tighter was overwhelming. Because you were just so soft and small compared to him. The urge to hurt you in bed was overwhelming sometimes. He wanted to leave bruises. Wanted to claim you in as many ways as he possibly could.

It was your turn to be oversensitive. Tex continued his assault, thrusting his hips up into you as you loomed above him, trying to breathe through the comedown of your climax. He wasn’t going to give you even a second to rest though, because now he had an end goal. He wanted to cum inside of you twice without pulling out, and then enjoy the sheer amount of himself that was bound to pour out of that well loved pussy of yours. Your moans of pleasure were growing in volume, and the brunette was sure that he had seen a house less than a mile up the road. The last thing he needed was to get the cops called on the both of you, and so with frantic hands he tried to find something that he could use to muffle your screams.

In his desperate searching his finger tugged at a long string of beads that had been haphazardly hung over the rearview mirror. The clasp gave out easily, the necklace tumbling down into the passenger seat. It was good enough for him. He gathered the long necklace up into his hand before shoving some of it into your mouth along with two of his long fingers. You gagged around him, your cunt clenching around him yet again but in shock. He let out a low growl, his breathing becoming more frantic.

The long string of rosary beads that weren’t in your mouth felt cold against your chest. There was something that was so blasphemous about the scene. Something that was so wrong and debased that it had Tex beginning to shiver beneath you, eyes wide and glassy. He curled his fingers inside of your mouth, pressing against your tongue.

And then he was cumming again, his head lolling back onto the headrest, the muscles in his biceps pulling tight. He breathed hard, moving one of his hands to press against your abdomen, and was pleased to find that he could feel himself twitching inside of you.

Claiming you from the inside out.

taglist: @knoxvillesshoes@cosmorant@ol1viam@simply-sams-things@haim80s@gabbcabb@8hgel@slutt4him@busy-bee-angel-misska@kaitaesupremacy@dazedshoon @4rt3m1ss@cryingabtab@kittenlittle24@austinsrealgf@austinbutlersgirlfriend@clearbolts @dark-as-love@anni-secret-account-75@ab4eva@starcatchxr @julietamidala @obbsessivereader@gwuide@blurredcolour@the-little-red-haired-girl@meladollsims@poppet05@shrekstheloml@randomwriter888@idc123sworld@vane28282@mirandastuckinthe80s@girlblogger2002@rockerchick05@screechingstrawberrysong@simpforevery1@girlabirla@dre6ming@obetrolncocktails@fairyjanes@jensenswinchester@lo-bells @in-my-body-bag@fxntxsix@petrparkrslut@eliseinmemphis @lelifesaver @screaching-cookie@fantuhsise@areuirish @bcofl0ve@mslizziesblog@shynovelist@ssstrangersblog @harrysthecraic@hangmanswhore@jyvnho@mymamalife @melodydior @18lkpeters @memphis-mania @rjmartin11 @artlover8992

and the big daddy crew: @powerofelvis @ggwritesstuff @woundmetender @eliseinmemphis @polksalademma @flwrs4aust @headfullofpresley @cryingabtab @austinbutlersbaby @lindszeppelin @rosaminny

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briebysabs · 1 year

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I’ve been thinking about vanijeanne and how confusing they are. But there is a direction mochijun could go with their relationship that honestly has me HOOKED

Let me rant like usual.

I’ve said this before but the set-up for their relationship is odd to me. I won’t say it’s bad, depending on whether what I say will happen, but it’s something that I felt could’ve been formed a lot differently. We’re moving very quickly for a supposedly canon ship, leaping if you will. So. I think this thing they have could go in a “learning experience” for both of them. None of them know what the fuck they’re doing and honestly, neither of them should enter a relationship to begin with.

Here are stuff I think is happening: Vanitas is infatuated with Jeanne. Vanitas genuinely likes Jeanne, I have no doubts on that. He doesn’t love her though. What he feels isn’t love and who knows, maybe it’s something that’ll develop over time. But love is something that involves a lot. One of them is being vulnerable with the other person. I do not think Vanitas is willing to be emotionally vulnerable with Jeanne. They could kiss, go on dates, possibly more, but there will always be a divide.

And it’s understandable, given his trauma and what not. Opening up will be a pretty big problem, maybe he’ll get there. Maybe he won’t. Then we get to Jeanne, which is where I get a bit lost. Because she didn’t “love” Vanitas until their date. So it’s like, girl, babe. Do you love Vanitas? Or do you love the idea of Vanitas? You like the idea of being in love? Because there is a stark difference that matters A LOT.

Love isn’t this romanticized fairytale that she’s imagining. It’s bumpy, there are tears every now and then. It’s a beautiful feeling but it can also hurt. So when Vanitas isn’t showering you with compliments, gifts, and blood. When he’s at a low point, can you handle that? Do you love Vanitas as a person? Because this person right......is kinda fucked up. Life kinda scarred him in more ways than one and I don’t think Jeanne realizes how broken he is. And Vanitas, refusing to open up to Jeanne, won’t tell her that. Won’t share that.

So this combination is either going to go up in flames in the most chaotic way. Or sizzle out until they both come to the conclusion that this cannot work. And if mochijun goes this direction, first of all, excellent writing. It’d be a fresh turn on the main boy gets with main girl trope. But y’all KNOW I got the popcorn ready 😙🍿

#the case study of vanitas #anime #vnc manga #les memoires de vanitas #vanitas no carte #jun mochizuki #vampires #vanitas #jeanne #jeanne the hellfire witch #vanijeanne #ships #ship analysis #pls go in this direction #trauma #relationship #Mochijun I know you want to #love

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smartzelda · 7 months

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I'm really curious about your thoughts on zadr for the ship bingo!

Sorry it's taken me so long to answer!😅

(I hope this was the right bingo)

Haha I have read so many fics

There are a lot of Invader Zim ships I like but WOOF this one, man. It's just so fun and entertaining

Do I even need to explain? Constant drama. So much angst potential. They're at each other's throats, they're the only person either of them can actually rely on and yet they don't trust each other at all, they're the only people who understand each other and yet they just don't get each other. They'll be friendly for 5 minutes and one will backstab the other for no reason. It's not unheard of for their conflict to escalate to tbe point one attempts to kill the other, and yet neither can operate without the other. They have in a sense become dependent on the other's existence for enjoyment, for motivation, and have grown to crave attention from the other. They are a complex toxic mess (it really is no wonder why I flocked to lawlight immediately after thinking about zadr for months)

Listen LISTEN. Zim is nonbinary. Neither boy nor girl? Both? Gender apathetic? Gender fluid? It does not matter. He is Zim. Gender is queer. Dib is a trans man to me.

This is probably the most concise way to describe what their relationship is to me. I don't know how to explain that zadr, zadf, and zade are all true to me. At once. It's complicated! They want to kill each other and dissect and study and tear apart and ruin each other and yet they couldn't handle the other being dead. They could be friends while dating separate people and yet be so wildly close. They're possessive. They're the only ones allowed to be this close to each other as friends, they're the only ones allowed to hurt the other this way and try to kill them this way, they're the only one the other should desire to this extent. There is a minimum level of attention they should have on the other, whether friends or enemies. They've never hated a person so viscerally. They've never loved a person so passionately. They could live together domestically and be life partners without ever desiring what is usual in a romantic or sexual relationship. When they get older tension tends to snap and they swap kisses on the battlefield. They're scientists at heart, so romance and sexuality is an extension of their curiosity. And yet if they ever came to desire each other they'd never admit it. It's its own nebulous thing. They can never be fully platonic, fully romantic, just enemies. No matter what form their relationship takes (allies, enemies, best friends, lovers, etc) there's always SOMETHING that makes it different and sets it apart. And that is something that makes them appeal to me

Combining both unhealthy in a good way and a bad way here. Unhealthy in a bad way is clear. Kind of obsession and passion that makes them so much worse. Like you put them in the same room and you can be surprised how much more awful they can get. And yet it's unhealthy in a good way like...like that redit post about how they're toxic but they're better together than apart ("never involve anyone else in what you have going on"). And yet while they clearly make each other worse, they also have the possibility of making each other better at the same time. If they admit to themselves that they care about each other, it's sort of an irrevocable change to their personality. They will never be able to be ruthless in the same way. In every universe they exist, they find each other (canon to the comics), and they make each other better and worse at the same time with the relationship they share.

I may not be rotating them as hard as I was even a year ago but by GOD can I go off about them. They are so funky. Every time I get back on them again the microwave becomes a taffy puller

Sorry they've never dated but they have the vibes sometimes. Especially in aus where one of them leaves for an extended anount of time or they stop seeing each other for a while and feel as if the other has stopped wanting to oppose them.

🥲💖👍

Ahahaha would this ever happen in canon? Extremely unlikely. But I myself have bamboozled myself into Zim/Dib/Keef/Zib/Zim2, and if I'm being real with you, I could probably convince myself into any number of pairings between any different Zims or Dibs with those 5. This is an infinite possibility polycule that would never happen. But I love it

Okay, so for the record, this fandom understands them better than a lot of other fandoms I've been getting into understand my favs, but regardless. Their relationship is just so complex to me, so it’s hard to reduce it to any given trope or relationship type

ㅤ

Thanks for the ask!! I hope you got the answer you were looking for

Although of course, if you want to ask specific questions on how I feel about them or what I think, go for it. I'm always happy to infodump out my (often complex and not always easy to understand) strings of thoughts

#ask game #ship ask #ship bingo #zadr #invader zim

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songbirdstyles · 3 years

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i’m on fire

summary: harry can’t keep his hands to himself after getting home from filming.

warnings: breeding kink, spanking, smut, slight fluff, pregnancy mention, slight dom/sub

word count: 2.7k

song inspo.: i’m on fire - bruce springsteen, girls on film - duran duran, tango in the night - fleetwood mac

You’ve hardly glanced in Harry’s eyes as he walks into the foyer of your London apartment before you feel your back slam into the door behind you - your head thumps against the wood and a groan threatens to rip out of your throat but he steals it before you get the chance to make the noise, lips on yours and tongue stuck down your throat.

Your hands have nowhere else to go but to bury themselves in his hair, fingers curling around chocolate brown curls and tugging until you hear the soft hitch in his breath that indicates just how much your grasp affected him. And, God, it did affect him, clearly, as he pushes his hips further against yours until you can feel the thick bulge in his pelvis grinding against the softness of your inner thigh as you hike your leg up to hoist around his waist. He moves one arm from where he had been grasping your throat as if to steady him to the present and his free hand grasps the underside of your thigh, pulling it further up his abdomen until the stretch in your muscle makes you whine.

“Jesus fuck, Har -”

He shuts you up from whatever you were going to mutter as he deepens the kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as his knee grinds into your cunt until you’re crying out, goosebumps overtaking every square inch of your skin even through the thick sweatshirt adorning your upper half. You hadn’t had much of anything valuable to say, anyway, but it’s the principle of his interruption that makes you grasp for his cheeks and pull his face from yours with a heaving gasp.

“What’s gotten into you, hmm?”

You’d almost be concerned about Harry’s state if you couldn’t feel him rutting his cock against your thigh - his face is red and hot, eyes half lidded and breaths panting and desperate with each sharp inhale of oxygen. Christ, he looks a sight in the best way possible, and your instinct is to snap your thighs shut at the feeling that rushes through your body when he leans in, pressing soft lips to the sweaty skin of your throat so it muffles his response. His hands find the hem of your sweatshirt (or his sweatshirt, really) and you have half a mind to raise your arms so he can pull his lips from your neck to tug the cloth off of your torso before he finds a vein in your throat with a newfound vigor, sliding his other hand up to grope at your bare tit like a teenage boy whose only just seen one for the first time.

“Jus’ wanna love on you, hmm - wanna love on m’girl, please -”

“Hmm -”

He grunts, then. Nips at a vein in your neck that pulsates beneath his lapping tongue and you can’t help but giggle, however childlike and naive the noise sounds, but it’s enough for him to drop your thigh from around your waist - grab your cheeks and spin you around, pushing you backwards and backwards until your feet hardly feel like they’re moving, like you’re floating through the entryway of your apartment until you reach the kitchen. Though Harry loves fucking you every which way in your bed, huge and comfortable and soft, there’s something primal about pushing you against the kitchen table and ripping down your flannel sweatpants and burying himself into your heat that you know he secretly prefers over the sacred oasis of your bedroom.

Your lower back hits the edge of the island but it doesn’t stay there long before he turns you around, pushing the front of your body against the island until your body has folded in half to bend over the slab of marble, cold against your bare tits and stomach. Your boyfriend reaches around to the front of your sweatpants, then, arms wrapped around your thighs to shakily untie the knot that you had carefully tied in the strings of your pajama pants - his chest rises and falls against your back, hips still pushing into yours over and over and you jut your ass out to meet the grind of his cock against the clothed globes of your ass.

“Tied this thing fuckin’ tight, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t think you’d try to rip them off like an animal,” you retort, lifting your hips from where they’re firmly pressed to the edge of the island once Harry has successfully untied the knot, tugging your pants down the slope of your ass until they unceremoniously drop to a puddle at your feet, and you impatiently kick them off as Harry snaps the waistband of your panties just to hear you squeal. “Come on, Har - know you’re impatient -”

“Mmm.”

His finger slide beneath your panties, knuckle dragging through your slit that’s positively dripping with your slick, and you hear his low moan at how ready you are for him but the truth is you’ve been fucking dripping since he sent you a selfie of him in his makeup chair on set two days prior, hair messy and eyebrow arched, and it hadn’t even been a serious selfie but it still made your clit throb when you saw it. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks for filming when you’d gone a full year of almost never being apart and, fuck. Seeing him like that did things to you.

Harry’s yours, god fucking dammit. The thought makes you spread your thighs more for him as he dips his finger into your waiting hole, curling them up once just to watch how your back arches, how you moan as though you’d been coded to do so. It’s a game he likes to play, testing you, seeing just how needy you are for him even if all he wants to do is bury himself inside of you and fuck you until tears streak your cheeks and you’re begging him to cum.

No - no, he does want that, you know that. Wants it so bad it makes his knees weak, makes his stomach flip and turn, but he wants to watch you fall apart more than anything. Needs to know you want this just as much as he does, if not more, and if he were truly dedicated tonight he’d finger you until you came at least twice.

Neither of you can wait for that.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes, voice raspy and full of sex and wanting and you could nearly sob as you feel him finally start to tug them hem of his joggers and boxers over his cock. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

But - but -

“Wait.”

He pauses. The head of his cock pokes at your ass in a way that would be funny if the revelation you’d just been hit with hadn’t hit you yet but it has, and you turn your head to press your cheek against the marble.

“Wha’?”

“I got my birth control thing out yesterday, the one in my arm. Remember - I told you I have to get it replaced. M’getting it tomorrow.”

There’s a pause in the kitchen, then, that hangs heavy over the both of you as you hear Harry’s shaky breathing behind you. And then -

“Did you just get harder?”

Harry exhales and even without seeing him you can picture the smile on his face as he presses his hips further into yours - “M’sorry - s’hot, babe.”

“Me not being on birth control is hot?”

“Yes,” and as if for extra reassurance of just what he means, Harry pushes his cock between your thighs until it’s slotted in your slit, head nudging your clit and making your legs quiver and shake as the stimulation rolls over you, eyes rolling back and head feeling fuzzy. “Makes me wanna fuck you so bad.”

There’s a quick consideration, you suppose - of the possibility of getting pregnant and the fact that you know there’s probably not even a single condom in your apartment for him to quickly put on, and even if there was the moment would die - and, come on, you’ve been together for almost 4 years and you’ve talked about kids in passing. If it happens it happens - that’s been your philosophy on it with him.

If it happens, it happens.

And it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Harry loves kids and you love kids and more than that, you love each other like the world depends on it - could never picture yourself living life without him at this point, and more than that, there is something hot about imagining him fucking you completely raw.

“Fuck, Har,” you moan, feeling your clit spasm as you grasp the edge of the counter. “I don’t care. Fuck me, pl -”

The final word doesn’t make it out of your mouth before Harry’s slamming himself inside of you and there’s no slow or sweet - it’s raw and unfiltered, giving you half a moment to adjust to his size after two full weeks without his cock, and it’s huge, feels like it’s splitting you open, like you’re back to the first time he’d ever fucked you and you’d had the fleeting question of whether it would even fit. It did fit, though, over and over and over, and yet the first stroke always makes you gasp.

Or scream.

“Oh, shit!” your resounding moan is shrill and punctuated by your legs just about giving up, knees collapsing until the only thing holding you up is Harry’s cock slamming into your cunt over and over, his nails digging into your bare shoulder blade before scratching up to tug at your hair. Forms it into a loose ponytail to tug at your hair like a damn whip, forcing your lazed face off of the marble until you’re staring into the darkened kitchen before you with blurry, watering eyes and a cunt that already feels fucked sore from just a few thrusts.

“Oh - god,” and Harry’s voice shakes and leaks with arousal, breath picking up as he pistons into you, cock stroking spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed before him, before he had fucked you slow and sweet and made you oh so aware of every sweet spot your cunt was filled with. God, he’s good at it, at a fast unforgiving pace that makes your head spin and your throat go raw with sobs, and you slam your palm against the island with a moan. “So fuckin’ tight f’me - made for me, right?”

You don’t respond, words feeling snatched from your tongue with every stroke of his dick into your pussy, milking every drop of arousal for all that it’s worth.

“This - this fuckin’ pussy - s’mine, isn’t it?” And when his seemingly rhetorical question goes unanswered there’s a sharp slap to the bottom of your ass that makes you shout, throat aching with the noise. “Whose fuckin’ pussy -”

“Yours!” It’s a near shriek that’s fucked out of you, and there’s another slap to your ass as you babble, “yours, Harry, yours - belongs to you -”

“Sure fuckin’ does,” and then he pulls out and you want to shout, to slam your head into the island because surely there’s nothing worse than the emptiness that fills you in the worst way possible, but just as you begin to whimper Harry is gripping your thigh, grasp tight enough that you’ll surely see bruises come morning, and he hikes your leg up over the edge of the island, exposing your near-abused pussy to him fully.

The tip of his cock runs along your slit, spreading your slickness around your folds and before you can plead with him to stop teasing he pushes back in, cock drawing along your velvet walls and eliciting a raspy moan that feels nearly involuntary at this point. His grasp on your hair is released and you nearly drop your head onto the island in surprise but then he’s leaning down, clothed chest pressed to your sweaty back, and his forearms snake beneath your neck until he’s nearly caging your neck in his arms, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

His hips pound against your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowering your choked moans and yet it doesn’t quite manage to - you’re sure your downstairs neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the volume of your sobs, or perhaps they’re used to hearing you get fucked within an inch of your life just about every night. Harry going away for filming surely must have been their own vacation from being awoken every night to yours and his pathetic moans mingled together -

But their vacation is over, goddammit.

“Harry, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, voice staccato and quiet, and his lips close around the back of your neck until you can feel him suckling at the skin, desperate to watch your skin erupt in hickeys from his work. “Please don’t - don’t stop -”

“Never gonna stop, baby,” is your boyfriend’s response, nearly cruel with how nonchalant he sounds, and his pace picks up where he’s sliding in and out of you with squelching wet sounds. “Cum for me - cum f’me and m’gonna blow it, baby, blow m’fuckin’ load into your cunt -”

You whimper, making a halfhearted attempt to reach behind you and wind your arm around Harry’s neck but you can’t muster up enough strength, feeling the orgasm building in your abdomen build and build like a rubber band about to snap. It’s a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re with him, like you’re always one stolen smirk away from straddling him in front of everyone and having your way with him -

“M’gonna cum in you, baby,” Harry whispers, voice low and hot against your ear, words being shot directly into your eardrum and sending a chill up your spine that has nothing to do with the chilled temperature of the kitchen. “Gonna knock you up, right? S’what you want?”

“Yes - yes -”

“Y’want me to fill you with my cum, hmm? Get you fuckin’ pregnant? All round w’my fuckin’ kid, fill you ‘till you’re dripping -”

“Oh, God, Harry!”

“Cum on m’fucking cock. Wanna feel y’cum around me ‘fore I blow it, sweetie -” It’s all the encouragement you need, a moan mixed with a sob tearing out of your throat as you throw your head back, body nearly convulsing as your orgasm racks through you like a tsunami on shore - and it’s everything, like he’s set you aflame and left you to deal with the inferno, and not for the first time you think about how you’re fucking made for him, for this, cumming harder than you’ve ever cum in your life, the rubbr band snapping and sending waves of pleasure through you -

“Fuck!”

Your orgasm hasn’t even come close to ending when Harry’s hips slam firm against yours, pressed taut against your ass and you feel him, feel every curve and vein of his cock against your walls and your mind goes blank as he cums, warm spurts filling you every which way and it only makes it better when he moves one of his arms from beneath your neck, snaking his hand underneath your body so he can shakily rub three fingers against your clit, milking your orgasm for all that it’s worth. You clamp down on him, every sensation too much and yet not enough in the best way possible, and you swear you see nothing but stars.

There’s a beat of silence, filled only with your heaving breaths and his soft gasps for air mixing with each other in the thick, suddenly humid air of the kitchen. Harry’s chest is sweaty against your back even through his shirt, lips still pressing warm, wet kisses to the back of your neck just underneath your hairline.

“Fuck,” you breathe, soreness already settling in your throat as you swallow, somewhat regretting your vehement moans and cries and shouts but somehow not at all - “Should probably go shower.”

“Not yet.” “Not yet -?”

“Stay here for a few minutes,” your boyfriend murmurs against your damp, sweaty skin, tongue poking out to lick a thin stripe from your collarbone up to the side of your throat, lips pressing just underneath your ear. “Gotta make sure it works. Gotta make sure you’re not leaving this fuckin’ kitchen without m’fuckin’ kid inside you, baby.”

TAGLIST

@hoeeforstyles @pcterparxer @hhh33-3l @saintsmotels @ficrecrry @bunny-munchkin-luvs-music @masumiyetimziyanoldu @luxplsr @strawberryystyles @shawnxstyles @harryslilkat @harryhub @golden-hoax @repostcentral @harry-styles-l @mintchipstyles @fallinforstyles @zhangyixingxing1 @goldenxstyles7 @tobefalling @hslotcherry @alwaysclassyeagle @galacticferns @nineteenfiftyone @havethetimeeofyourlifee @sstarkme @stylesfics-xx @thecitiesintheseas @harrypinks @morethanamelodyy @lovesickrry @prettymuchxarreaga

#harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles drabble #harry styles fic #harry styles writing #if your url didnt show up idk what to tell u #also i wrote this in one hour.#which is why its arse but i just needed to post something bc i felt bad

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paintedgemstones · 2 years

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The Clans - Wild Child AU

Okay, I gotta set one thing straight, neither of the Clans know that Akari was exiled from Jubilife.

They, for the most part, think she’s a feral child that just appeared one day. Many have heard the rumors of The Girl that fell from the Space-Time Rift, but only a few have put two and two together. And even then, they don’t know that said girl was already taken in by the Galaxy Team before getting exiled shortly after, and left out in the wilderness even after she has proven her worth.

But that aside, the subject of the Wild Child of Hisui is a bit of a controversial topic among the clans folk. With everyone having their own theories on who this Wild Child is and what her presence entails. But they generally fall into one of two categories:

The First, and arguably more popular, theory is that she is simply a child that was abandoned in the wild as a baby and then raised by Pokémon (which isn’t that far off). This theory has earned Akari a great level of sympathy from those that believe it. And, of course, there is a subsection of this group that blame the rival clan of, supposedly, abandoning a baby (because “only the believers of a False Almighty Sinnoh would stoop so low”, boy, are they both wrong).

The Second theory is that said Wild Child is a sign and/or messenger from their respective Almighty Sinnoh. Though, whether it is a good or bad sign depends on who you ask.

Some view her as a bad omen of things to come and are wary of her (a group of people that slowly dwindles as they see her helping people and generally being a sweet kid).

Others believe that Almighty Sinnoh is trying to tell them something, though they don’t know what, through this strange, feral child that just appeared one day and seemingly understands Pokémon better than anyone they have ever seen. (Bonus points if some believe she can actually talk to Pokémon)

Some even try to seek her out to hound her with questions in hopes of answers and/or confirmation, either from approaching her or observing her from a distance. They think Akari doesn’t notice them but she does. Overtime, she got pretty good at hiding from and avoiding those kinds of people. She does not want to resort to threatening them with her Pokémon, it would not help the matter in the slightest. Besides, even if she had her memories, she doubts she could give them an answer they’d be satisfied with.

As for Akari’s thoughts on these theories, well, she’s got some mixed feelings on them.

She knows full well why and how she is living in the wilds, but she doesn’t like talking about it, especially with strangers. So, a lot of the people she eventually befriends don’t find out the truth until much later (excluding Rei, Laventon, Kamado, Cyllene, and few others from Jubilife who knew from the beginning).

As for the other one, she might not know where she’s from or have most of her memories, but she’s quite certain that she isn’t a Prophet. Besides, she wants absolutely no part in the conflict between the two Clans.

I mean, she can’t stand even watching Adaman and Irida fight with each other. On the bright side, that fact forced the two Clan Leaders to, at least, try to act civilly towards one another.

Speaking of the Clan Leaders:

When Akari first meets Adaman, he is immediately fascinated by her. He puts together pretty quickly that she is the girl that fell from the rift, and is convinced that she is a Missionary of Almighty Sinnoh sent to quell the Frenzied Nobles. As such, he’s more than happy to let her take part in what he believes is her mission. Though, that enthusiasm is sorta dampened once he sees just how reckless she is.

After some time, he comes to realize that she isn’t some Prophet, but a scared little kid, who doesn’t know where she’s from and who feels she can’t rely on people. He becomes quite protective of her (boy, will he be pissed once he finds out what Kamado did). The two like to battle against each other whenever the opportunity arises, Adaman becomes something of a Big Brother figure to Akari.

When Irida first meets Akari she is wary of her. She doesn’t know what to really think of this mysterious girl. She only finds out she fell from the rift from Adaman, and wasn’t convinced by either of the theories the clans folk made up. She feels that if someone were sent by Almighty Sinnoh they’d be more informed about the goings on, and maybe displaying some kind of divine influence. And seeing that this girl is clearly well into her teens and seems more civilized than one would expect from a feral child, she was not convinced by the “abandoned when baby, raised by Pokémon” theory either.

She was reluctant when Akari insisted on helping the Lord of the Woods. She became even more lost about her intentions from her wanting to help a Clan and a Pokémon she has nothing to do with. It takes Irida a bit more time to trust Akari than in the game, since to her, Akari feels like this unpredictable individual, not tied to any Clan and seemingly doing her own thing.

But once they do start getting comfortable with one another, they like having quiet moments whenever they meet and just “basking in Almighty Sinnoh’s space”. Akari knows the best spots for relaxing. They also like to vent to each other, Akari with her frustrations about the clans folk or her pokéfamily, and Irida about her insecurities about being Clan Leader and the expectations on her shoulders. Though, neither might really understand each other’s plight, they do listen to the other and let them vent.

And let’s be honest, protecting Akari is only thing Adaman and Irida can truly agree on.

#if anyone has any headcanons #for this AU and the Wardens #feel free to share i would love to read them #pokemon #pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus #au #pokemon au #wild child au #akari #pokemon akari #diamond clan #pokemon diamond clan #pearl clan #pokemon pearl clan #pokemon irida #irida #adaman #pokemon adaman

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miraculouscontent · 3 years

Text

Not really directed at anything specifically, more just based on things I’ve heard from friends and what they say others are talking about. Just needed to get this off my chest.

So... “Syren” airs, and Chat Noir gets upset by a secret that is neither Plagg’s nor Ladybug’s to tell. Both the fandom and the show/writers think he is right for doing this, even as he threatens to quit while Paris drowns if not told the secret. He is ultimately rewarded in the end with the secret because, according to one of the writers, “Chat was correct and deserved to know.”

Later down the line, “Truth” gets a synopsis.

It hasn’t aired, it simply gets a synopsis (I must also add that a previous synopsis in the same season had been wrong).

Based on said synopsis, the fandom gets riled up about Luka supposedly being upset by a secret Marinette is keeping (her identity), going on about how he “doesn’t have a right to Marinette’s secret,” “is being extremely entitled,” and “doesn’t deserve to know Marinette’s identity,” as it is “Marinette’s right” to tell whoever she wants.

In truth, the actual episode features Luka struggling and fighting against the akuma, because he actually believes that he is not, in fact, entitled to Marinette’s secret, wanting her to share it rather than it being forced out of her. He is then “punished” for this when the show has the couple break up due to Marinette believing that she’s not allowed to have a boyfriend, all thanks to her secrets. Nevertheless, Luka maintains his previous stance and wants Marinette to tell him things whenever she’s ready to do so.

“Gang of Secrets” airs two episodes later, featuring the exact opposite philosophy. Over the phone, Marinette’s friends claim that they want her to talk with them when she’s ready, only to barrel into her room minutes later and insist that she talk to them. She refuses, kicking them out, and they get akumatized without resistance in order to force her to tell them her secret. After the fact, without so much as an on-screen apology from them, Marinette folds and talks about (some of) her problems. This also features another “whenever you’re ready” from Alix that may or may not be a simple joke given how the group laughs at it. Once all but Alya and Marinette are left in the room, Marinette has a mental breakdown and gives Alya her most precious secret: her identity as Ladybug.

Upon this episode airing, the fandom is upset at Marinette, not for telling her secret, but for not telling Chat Noir her secret instead of Alya, because Chat deserved her secret. This is also after “Chat Blanc,” where Marinette is aware that “her love with Chat” and Chat knowing her identity nearly led to the end of the world, and it is later confirmed in “Sentibubbler” that Marinette has actual trauma over the moment, never made aware of the specific mistake Chat made (i.e: keeping his knowledge of her identity a secret) that caused the issue in the first place, thus leaving her with all of the blame as the timeline is scrubbed away and Adrien is left with no actual lesson, even from Bunnix who could’ve chided him for his priority on love over safety. Chat received no consequences for this (not remembering his time as an akuma) and was even rewarded for his erased-from-time decisions as Ladybug laid her head on his shoulder, happy to have him back after the nightmare she’d lived where everyone was dead because her partner prioritized dating her over telling her that he knew her identity, despite her repeated stressing that no one must know.

(”Glaciator” also follows this formula, forcing Ladybug to apologize first and then having her blush when Chat kisses her cheek after he’d put up a huff mid-battle, while Marinette is blamed both for Andre’s akumatization and not going to a date that she didn’t promise to go to.)

Cut to some time later, when “Crocoduel” airs. Marinette, believing that she only causes problems for Luka and that he would rather be away from his own birthday party than be around the girl who “broke his heart” and “got him akumatized twice” (the first time being Silencer, something that apparently she, Alya, and the show blame her for), asks Juleka in private to make sure Luka isn’t present at the party. She later apologizes for this, admitting that she was unreasonable in her request.

The fandom proceeds to go off on Marinette, stating that she is selfish and that Luka “deserves better.” This is in direct contrast to episodes that feature Marinette/Ladybug apparently slighting Adrien/Chat (according to the fandom), where rejection is not wished on the ship itself, but rather a desire that Marinette/Ladybug apologize to Adrien/Chat and repent for her sins so that he can be happy and they can get together.

Interestingly enough, complete radio silence is given on the friends who had forced Marinette to go to the event in the first place (and also had supposed “whenever you’re ready” development in “Gang of Secrets”), not consulting with Luka on the matter nor considering what either would want, and only asking for Juleka’s permission in what is essentially an afterthought (having made plans without her input first). This is made doubly “interesting” by the fact that the action of said friends is what leads to the supposed “end of Lukanette,” with them officially confirming becoming friends.

Finally, cut to the most recent episode (at the time of writing this), “Wishmaker.” In this episode, through two different instances of Second Chance, Luka discovers the identities of both Ladybug and Chat Noir, shocked and later saddened by both revelations. When asked by Ladybug, he makes the decision to not tell her that he knows anything, though the current reason for this is unknown.

The fandom, once again, goes up in arms. They are upset by Luka’s lie (to a hero who he now knows is extremely stressed about her future and needs little else to worry about) regardless of whatever the reason may or may not be revealed to be. This is a far cry from the “golden boy” Adrien Agreste, who has not only lied (whether by omission or otherwise) on multiple occasions (”Copycat,” “Miraculous New York,” and “Chat Blanc”), but when Ladybug’s identity was put into his hands (the hands of a permanent hero who has one of the two exact miraculouses wanted by Hawk Moth), he chose not to say anything so he could date her.

Neither had a magical charm to protect them while one of them had a rabbit hero to erase his actions as if that removes what he would’ve done if given the chance, while Ladybug is left with the guilt and trauma. Both were told that identities are precious, and one lies for reasons riddled with ambiguity while the other lies in order to date the person who has already rejected one side of himself. One is a “threat” to the endgame ship and is either sympathized with or criticized depending on what will make his own ship look worse (and whose likeability seems to coincide by how “threatening” he is and what importance he receives in comparison to his “competition”), while the other is part of the endgame ship and is treated accordingly by the show and fanbase, his actions defended and validated while the blame falls on the other side of his ship.

In the end, Marinette and Luka are dealt an equally bad hand, and both are dealing with consequences of Adrien’s actions. Adrien had gotten to peacefully date “Ladybug” in a removed timeline because he selfishly kept a secret (and, again, was ultimately rewarded for it), while Marinette suffered dating Luka because she selflessly kept a secret (leading to him being akuamtized and her to nearly have a mental breakdown). Luka, meanwhile, who has had a track record of being incredibly selfless and having a history of always keeping Marinette’s feelings/best interests in mind, now knows both Ladybug and Chat Noir’s identities, and the latter being because Chat Noir let himself get hit by the akuma’s powers in the first place.

Yet it’s Luka who gets heat, and Marinette who gets heat, while Adrien isn’t even so much as on the back burner.

Isn’t history fun?

#category: long post #category: salt #category: fandom #other: ml spoilers #((Don't knock on MY door to talk about how mY SON lied to the neighbor's daughter when yOUR SON--))#episode: Syren #episode: Gang of Secrets #episode: Truth #episode: Crocoduel #episode: Wishmaker

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suesylvesterf · 3 years

Note

What was going to an all girls school like, if you don't mind me asking? :)

OK anon im so sorry this is so long and so convuluted I actually got so carried away jdbKJBGKSDBGH. i'm not even sure i properly answered your question i just got overwhelmed with Love for my same-sex schooling DHGKJSDFBHG anyway, if there's anything more you want to know lmk and I will try to be concise next time 💀

Essentially, my own experience at a single-sex secondary school was fantastic—however, I know my experience isn’t universal, especially since my school was a little bit different to most, I think.

That being said, I still think that sending your daughters to female-only secondary schools is something every parent should strive to do if they can. No other learning environment will ever be as good for girls as a same-sex school.

In terms of school staff, mine was about 95% female, and 5% male. The few male teachers we had were genuinely competent men and decent teachers, they were also watched like hawks. Our principal was female, all leadership positions in the school (such as House Leaders, Year Level Co-Ordinators, Department Heads, even the chaplain) were held by women. Our school psychologists, our nurses, our library technicians, our café ladies, our career advisors, our tutors—all were women. Our school houses (think like Harry Potter houses) were named after important women in our country’s history.

I went to a co-ed primary school. And whilst at twelve you might not have the words to describe it, graduating from a co-ed space, into an all-female space is really a giant weight off of your shoulders. You don’t realise how suffocating co-education is until you’re no longer having to bear it. It feels so much more natural, so much more free! You are welcomed as you are. You can be loud and unashamed of it. We joked frequently with each other and our teachers, laughed loudly and cared not whether our laughs were ‘ugly’. I found that teachers were far more supportive than they were in my co-ed school. For example, in a co-ed school I had been told frequently to ‘pipe down’ or to ‘reel it in’ from teachers, and more vexingly to ‘shut up’ from boys due to my boisterous personality. In high school? My teachers encouraged me to audition for the play because I had ‘great projection’. In every school programme (more on those later) that I was involved in, I was the one asked to give speeches about them at assembly. I was asked to be the lead of our house chants during our sports festivals. I was asked to join the debate team because of my passionate nature, which in primary school, had me known as ‘difficult’.

Likewise, I had a friend who was by nature quiet, and loved to draw. In primary school she’d doodled on the back of a work booklet, and when her teacher returned it, she’d taken off two points and had written a comment saying something about teachers in high school not accepting work that was drawn on.

Do you know what happened when she got to high school? Our English teacher had seen the eye she’d drawn on the back of our Romeo and Juliet test and had written, ‘beautiful!’ above it. The next test, she drew a two-headed cat with witches’ hats on both heads (I remember the left head was called Turpentine and the right head was called Esmeralda). Our teacher wrote, ‘wonderful!’ above it, with a smiley face.

The next day she got an email from our art teacher that had a PDF flyer of information on both in-school and local art competitions.

Anyway, she had questions and that teacher answered every single one of them. She also personally helped her select the works she wanted to submit. She ended up having two pieces shown in the school gallery, along forty pieces made by other girls. About five years later for our final year, on that art teacher’s recommendation (and tutelage!) she took all of the visual art subjects on offer. When she graduated, her final piece was shown at a public exhibition in our state’s capital city, that honoured the best pieces done by select graduating students in the state.

So yeah. Our teachers were pretty amazing. Of course, there was the odd teacher or two you would butt heads with but that’s just a universal school experience. Our humanities classes, like history, for example, often had a unit that would focus on the female experience of a certain time period. For example, when learning about WW2, we did projects on female resistance fighters et cetera.

We had health classes that were actually focused on female health. We learnt about female anatomy (even the clitoris! Though we were all about thirteen/fourteen at this time so we found it incredibly awkward to talk about), as well as symptoms of PCOS during our menstrual unit. We learnt about contraceptive methods and devices (however, as a Catholic school they did have to tell us that whilst these methods are available, the church-sanctioned method is of course, abstinence).

Whilst the majority of the girls shaved their legs and wore makeup, as someone who did neither of those things I rarely felt judgement about it (albeit, I think there was a little for my lack of makeup, but this only lasted the first two years). A good portion of our staff also did not wear makeup, I don’t recall this ever being commented on. And, by the time we’d reached about our third year, a good portion of my year level and the ones above did not wear makeup on a daily basis. Leg hair was not looked down upon by any of us I don’t think by this year either. In fact, if you were particularly hairy often your hairless friends asked to rub your legs!

We were never short of female role-models, our staff made sure of that. We had multiple days per year when guest speakers would come and talk to us, mostly these were women who were experts in their fields—whether that be neuroscience or computer science, linguistics and literature or mathematics, politics, et cetera. The only times we really had male guest speakers was when police officers (one male one female) came to give us an assembly about sexual peer-pressure and laws around sharing nudes that was basically, “these are common (male) manipulation tactics used to pressure you into doing something you don’t want to do, don’t fall for them”.

We were encouraged to take STEM subjects, and those of us that had taken interest in computer programming were sent to coding programmes in the city during school hours! That’s how keen our teachers were to get more women into the field! This was the same with the girls interested in politics, who got to go to Model UN events, as well as mock parliaments in the country’s capitol.

We had a lot of programmes generally. A few overseas ones for girls who were in LOTE (languages other than English) classes. A few interstate ones, too. And of course, local programmes and excursions. Most of them (aside from the LOTE ones which focused on immersion) were volunteer programmes aimed at helping women and girls. The rest were about furthering our own skills or learning new ones. Majority of these were year-level based, but a few depended on the clubs/groups/classes you were in. For example, I was part of the Writer’s Club, and we took an excursion to the state Writer’s Festival and listened to female writers as well as feminist panels. We also had self-defence programmes every year.

In terms of peers I generally found everyone to be quite amiable by the time we’d reached our third/fourth year. There’s a common myth about all girls schools being filled with ‘catty’ girls who are constantly bitching about one another, but I really did not find that to ring true. There were a few fights and arguments in the earlier years, I was part of quite a lot lol but that’s honestly… just something that happens at school, at any school. Largely, we were good to each other. If someone was crying there was always someone who’d ask her what was wrong. If you missed the notes on the slide, there was always a girl willing to share her notes with you.

I think going to an all-girl’s school, and not having that much interaction with the opposite sex generally for that six-year period truly does something, I think, to your psyche. We are socialised to look down on our fellow woman, socialised to look down upon ourselves. But actually being constantly surrounded by women, and almost ONLY women, really helps to undo that. Even now I could not describe the fierce love I have for all those women and girls I came in contact with during my time there—even the ones I bickered with. Each and every single woman I met there enriched my life in some way or another. I think that is the effect of consistently spending time in any female-only space: developing a true appreciation for women. It is the only reasonable conclusion to come to.

I have been out of high school for two years, and in university for one. Among the many men I have met since, none of them have even been able to hold a candle to the any women and girls I know.

Anyway. TLDR: it slapped, send your daughters to same-sex schools!!

#this is so long sorry #long post #radfem safe #separatism #radfem

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

written for @thewitchertransweek

Day 5: Found Familly

Ship: Background Geraskier and Lambden

Rating: T

Summary: Ciri learns about the wider variety of gender at Kaer Morhen

Ciri had always expected to live her life in Cintra, after all she was the heir to the throne, the Lioncub of Cintra. At the very least she’d assumed that she might move to Skellige, with Eist’s ties to the Isles, and her grandmother’s dedication to the union between the two kingdoms, Ciri was sure she was bound to end up betrothed to one of the Jarl’s children.

Nilfgaard had changed everything.

Even with the rumours about her Destiny, and murmurs of the White Wolf. Ciri had never expected to find her new family in a ruined keep in the Blue Mountains during the dead of winter, but Destiny was a mysterious force that worked in equally mysterious ways. She still mourned her blood, but the family she had found in the witcher’s keep was invaluable, more than she could have ever asked for. Not only could they give her the skills to defend herself and survive in the cruel war-torn land they now lived in, they were also the most peculiar ragtag group of people Ciri had ever met.

When she’d first seen Geralt bathing on the way up to Kaer Morhen, she hadn’t questioned the uniform scars on his chest. He was a witcher and witchers had scars, that was just a fact, but when Eskel had pulled his shirt up one day to reveal matching scars… she began to get suspicious and the questions had started. She had been shocked to learn that both witchers had been born girls… or something like that. She was still trying to understand the language they used, assigned female, if she remembered correctly.

Jaskier had been absolutely thrilled when he’d learned Ciri was asking questions about gender, perking up from his favourite spot in Geralt’s lap to announce that he didn’t give a shit about gender or pronouns and people could refer to him however they felt most comfortable. Ciri tended to use ‘he’ out of habit, but she’d heard Geralt and the others refer to Jaskier as ‘they’ or ‘she’ at times as well.

And then there was Aiden, Lambert’s partner, who was very much neither a man nor a woman. They often used make-up to change the shape of their face, almost like magic, looking more masculine or feminine depending on their mood. It was incredible…

And Ciri wanted it.

She’d always hated being treated like a girl, being seen as less because she was a girl. She enjoyed wearing boy clothes just as much as her pretty dresses, sometimes even more, but she’d just assumed that all girls felt like that. Most of her friends at the castle had been boys after all.

But… Did that mean she was a they?

Could she be not a girl and still refer to herself as ‘she’?

It was all very confusing and it was giving her a headache.

“Alright, cub?” Aiden asked, leaning against the doorframe to the library. Their long dark hair loose for a change, damp and curly as it rested on the towel slung around their shoulders.

“Just thinking,” Ciri hummed, pressing her fingers to her forehead in the way she had often seen Geralt do when he was exasperated with Jaskier.

“About?”

“What if I’m not a girl?” she whined, falling backward onto the wolfskin rug in front of the hearth, staring up at the ceiling with a heavy sigh. “I didn’t even realise that was possible until coming here.”

“And now you’re not sure?” Aiden pressed, coming to sit next to her, pulling her head into their lap so they could card their fingers through her hair.

“No,” she pouted.

“Well, that’s alright. We’re older than we look, you know. It’s taken us years to work it out, and you’re just a kid,” Aiden reassured her, a low purr started to rumble in their chest, “and if you never figure it out, that’s alright too.”

“What if I change my mind?”

“Little lion cub, nothing in life is constant, change is inevitable,” Aiden laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Lambert is still trying to figure out whether he’s a man who likes dresses or something else, and he’s old enough to be your grandfather.”

Ciri giggled and snuggled up closer to the cat witcher. Geralt might be her Destiny, but these people were all her family, and she couldn’t be more content.

@geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @unyielding-as-the-sea @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire

#the witcher #trans geralt #trans eskel #agender Jaskier #non binary aiden #genderqueer lambert #kaer morons #cirilla fiona elen riannon #ciri #wolfie's witcher writing

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bakubub · 3 years

Text

In which Racer!Kuroo is your roommate and you finally learn more about him...

Warnings: Mentions of loss of loved one, disregard for own life, swearing, innuendos and implied nsfw (but sfw overall), fem!reader with she/her pronouns.

A/N: Idek what this is. Its literally a 4.6 k mixture of fluff, angst and comfort... I rewrote this like 4 times :,) being a perfectionist is so,,, tiring.

This takes part shortly after this, you can definitely read this without reading the 'part 1' if you will, since they don't depend on one another.

Art belongs to @aikk00 ,, and yes I am still in love with it :D

I stumble out of the lecture hall, my eyes so heavy I bump into about 3 other students and mumble my apologies until I fully wake up and snap out of my daze.

Walking down the stairs and making my way to the bus stop, I watch in horror as the bus I was supposed to be in drives off, going fast for once in its damn life as if mocking me.

Inhaling sharply through my nose, I manage to keep my composure and sit down at the bus stop, telling myself the next bus will be here in a bit.

It's fine. It's fine. I slept through the lecture, and I still have to catch up on 4 subjects and make dinner, but at least the house is clean and I'm caught up in that one subject I picked up for this exact reason.

It's fine. It's going to be just fi-

The rumble of a loud engine breaks my shitty but somewhat effective self-reassurance motto and I open my eyes to see a black and red sports car going 60 km/h in a 30 zone, effectively getting mine and everyone else's attention.

I watched in horror for the second time today as this time it stopped right in front of the bus stop. No, no, no, no.

No.

Please no.

He rolls down the passenger window with that ridiculous hair and a shit-eating grin, as he nods towards the seat, revving his engine.

I look away, pretending he's not looking directly at me and that I don't live with the guy, which I immediately regretted when he beeped the fucking horn.

What did I do to deserve this humiliation?

I hastily put my head down as he beeped it again, giving up and rushing towards his insufferable car, getting into the passenger seat and slumping in my seat to keep my head down low.

"What is wrong with you? What are you even doing here?" I hiss, my glaring up at him from my awkward, folded position.

He laughs, and when I hear the sound of a photo being taken in the split second I looked away to readjust my bag, I sit up straight, watching him continue speeding as he stuffs his phone into his pocket.

"Are. You. Trying. To. Kill. Me?!" I ask, my voice little less than a screech as I slap his arm with each word.

"Ow, ow, I just came to pick my roomie up! I sensed you needed a ride, and this is the thanks I get?" he asks, that smirk I have come to hate returning to grace his features.

I glare at him, but a small, sleep-deprived part of my brain is distracted by his appearance. A tight black tee adorning his built figure, his biceps are on display as he drives with one hand, the other resting on the gear shift. The air from his rolled down window is ruffling his hair this way and that, and I find myself wanting to run my hands through the raven strands, just as I had when I washed his hair that one time...

"Wait- how the fuck did you know I didn't have a ride?" I ask incredulously, my reaction time clearly delayed but here nonetheless.

I narrow my eyes as he hesitates before he answers, "I just knew, ok? It's not like it’s astrodynamics, not that I can't figure that out too."

"Kuroo, what the hell is astrodynamics? Are you like, spying on me or something?" I ask, pretending to look out the window so as to not get distracted by his appearance once more.

"What do you common folk call it? Rocket science?" He says, once again exceeding the speed limit.

"If I'm a commoner, does that make you a peasant? Also, stop going so fast, I feel sick and I do not feel like dying today."

He rolls his eyes in response as he slows down by a smidgen, the speed meter barely even moving. "Seriously, you may have no consideration for yourself, but I still have a lot of things to achieve with my damn life so slow the fuck down." My words finally reach the rational part in him and he slows down considerably, now going within the speed limit.

Taking a deep breath, I rest my elbow on my door and look out the window, my mind flooding with thoughts about Kuroo's reckless driving and how it can all go sour with one delayed reaction.

Before I know it, we're rolling up to our apartment building, driving into his private garage only the penthouse owners get to use.

"I'm sorry," he mutters, filling the silence in the car.

"It's ok. I just... I want you to be safe. I know its hard, but... just try," I say quietly, unable to look at him.

"That's what he said," he says hastily before rushing out of the car before I can hit him.

Getting out of the vehicle myself, I send a murderous look his way and run after his retreating form.

A small part of me is grateful that he's acting like his usual unbearable self again, but the rest of me is just mad at his relentless sex jokes.

He hits the elevator button before I can get there and I watch the doors close, his smirk practically shining through the crack of the closing doors. I jam my foot in the middle at the last possible second, and smile victoriously as I get into the metal box and slap his arm once again.

"Ooh, do it harder," he practically moans, and my eyes just about pop out of their sockets in embarrassment as my face flushes a deep red.

"Oh shut up," I mutter, turning around and waiting patiently for the doors to open on the top floor. I hear him snicker and then the sound of a photo being taken, turning around sharply. I yell in defiance and throw my bag on the floor as I jump onto him in an attempt to grab his phone out of his hand and delete the probably unflattering photo.

I straddle his back and reach for the phone he easily holds out of my reach. Leaning across his shoulder in a feeble attempt to reach it, my feet are hooked around his chest and my other hand is using his shoulder as a brace. He's laughing hard at this point, and I'm screaming at him to give me the damn phone. Neither of us notice the elevator doors opening nor the small woman standing at the threshold staring at us in shock and amusement.

"Kuroo Tetsuro! You let that poor girl down this instant, young man!"

We both froze at the authoritative voice, slowly turning to look at a small dark haired woman with a straight shoulder length cut and narrow gold eyes that were glaring at the man under me.

"MUM!" He exclaims, setting me down and running to hug and kiss the woman, his mum apparently. "What are you doing here?" I hear him ask as I straighten myself out, fixing my jumper and tucking my hair behind my ears, picking up my bag off the floor and quickly following them out of the elevator.

"What, a mother needs an excuse to come visit her boys? Where's Kenma?" She asks, looking in the elevator again as if to check if she missed him.

"Oh, he's at his own place. Apparently he has a booked in session with this famous gamer today. Did he say he'd be here?" Kuroo asks, letting go of the woman and leaning on the wall.

"No, I didn't tell anyone I was coming to visit. Never mind that, who's this pretty young lady here, hmm?" She asks, raising a perfectly shaped brow as she walks towards me, the click of her heels echoing in the lobby of the penthouse.

I smiled down at her, since she was considerably shorter than even me, and introduced myself. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. Kuroo." I say, bowing.

"Oh no, no, none of that. You can call me mum too, hmm?" She says, gesturing me up from my bow and pulling me down for a tight hug.

"Oh, um, actually, me and Kuroo aren't-"

"We’ll talk more comfortably inside, no? Tetsuro, is your plan to let me stand here all day?” She asks, letting me go and turning around to look at Kuroo.

Kuroo leaps into action, taking his mum's bag and unlocking the door, helping her out of her heels and leading her into the spotless penthouse.

It was all I could do to nod in response, closing the door behind us and walking down into the kitchen to prepare a meal.

It’s crazy how much I don’t know about this guy. He’d never mentioned his mother before, and briefly mentioned that he has a sister, whether older or younger I have no idea. Kenma, however, I know well. The guy was here all the time when I first started living here, but recently I've seen him less and less. Which is a shame, considering we actually got along quite well, with sharing eye rolls and bonding over our mutual love of Minecraft.

I don't notice silent footsteps following me until Kuroo's Mother says "now, why's a beautiful girl like yourself slaving away in the kitchen? Does that boy make u do all the cooking and cleaning like some mid-century housewife?"

I poke my head out of the fridge, smiling at her fair assumptions, "no, no, it's not like that at all. I actually-"

"Uh, mum! You know I'm incompetent with this stuff. This place would be a mess if she wasn't here to run things! Plus, she loves to cook and finds cleaning therapeutic. Hey, her words not mine," Kuroo quickly jumps in, putting his hands up defensively when she looks at him with a raised brow.

Looks like he doesn't want his mother to know of our little arrangement.

"Right. He's just so hopeless, I can't trust him to do anything," I add on, sending her a smile as I prepare the fish he likes.

"You're making grilled mackerel for dinner?! Oh that's gonna hit the fu- the fun spot," he says, saving himself at the last second.

I hold back a snort as I take out a pan, "open the window, fish boy. It's about to stink here and I can't be bothered with Mrs. Suzuki coming all the way upstairs just to complain about the fish smell, and then complaining that she had to come up here in the first place. God, I hope she isn't sitting on the balcony today," I ramble, trying to see her balcony from outside the window, but fail because of the private location.

Damn these amazing architects.

I hear his mum chuckle at my rambling as she begins to take out ingredients for a salad. "Oh, you don't have to help, please sit and make yourself comfortable," I say, moving towards her to take the lettuce out of her hands.

"No, no, I'd like to pitch in. Now what kind of mother-in-law would I be to let you do everything yourself?" She asks, holding the lettuce away from me and walking over to the sink.

I stare at the back of her head, a flush creeping up my neck, "m-mother-in-law?!" I ask incredulously, glancing over at Kuroo who looked suspiciously... Smug. I look away quickly when he meets my eyes, and I hastily hyper-focus on the fish in front of me, placing it on the heated pan, causing sizzling and popping to fill the awkward silence.

"I'm sorry darling, I don't mean to be overbearing. Tetsuro introduced you as his girlfriend, so I thought things were getting serious since he actually allowed us to meet one another. You see, he’s never introduced me to a girl before, so you can imagine my excitement. I can stop if you're uncomfortable-"

I cut her off, feeling even more embarrassed as I realise the role I am to play in Kuroo's life when his mother is around. I mean, it makes sense, he can't exactly just admit he took a random girl into his house.

"I, um, no really it's fine, I understand" I say, my voice small as I flip the fish.

She lets out a delighted laugh and pulls me down into a hug once more. The smile on my face is genuine as my embarrassment melts away, the bright smile of this woman comforting me.

"So, how did you guys meet?" She asks, chopping up the ingredients for her salad on the bench while I'm at the stove, Kuroo leaning on his elbows on the bench.

"At uni," I answer at the same time as Kuroo states, "at a party."

We both look at each other with wide eyes, and I clear my throat to clarify, "at a uni party. A classmate of ours hosted one and we met each other there."

"I see, so the old boozed up one night stand turned into quite a domestic relationship hmm?" she suggests, wiggling her eyebrows at Kuroo.

"What? No, no, I would never! A one night stand? Booze? Please, what kind of man do you take me for?" Kuroo complains, looking offended.

I turn around towards the stove and roll my eyes. I've heard the rumours around campus, practically every girl in my lecture hall can testify to at least making out with the man. He really puts up a façade for his mum.

I hear the doorbell ring, and quickly take the fish off the stove to go answer it as Kuroo bickers with his mother about how innocent he really is.

"Hello? Who is it?" I ask, pressing the buzzer.

"Uh, hello? Is this Tetsu's place?" A deep voice answers. I look at the camera, seeing Kenma and a bunch of men about Kuroo's age looking confused. The one who answered is a guy with a blond mohawk and piercings adorning both ears.

"Yes, just give me a second," I reply. "Kuroo, I think Kenma and the rest of your friends are here? Should I let 'em up?" I shout out.

"Yeah let 'em in," he calls back. I press another button, letting them into the lobby.

I need to make more food.

Quickly taking out my frozen dumplings I stocked up for emergency dinners for days I couldn't be bothered to make anything better, I whip up a quick sauce, thinking I could split the fish and put it in the middle of the table so everyone can take their share.

"I do apologise darling, I let my Kenma know that I came to visit and he must have told the boys. I think they've all come to see me," Kuroo's mum confesses.

"You must be a very loved woman if they came all this way to see you. And it's no worries really, I'm always prepared for guests," I say, putting her at ease.

She beams at me as the door is banged loudly.

Kuroo mutters something about “rude assholes'' as he goes to open the door, a group of tall men making their way through the threshold.

"Hiya cap'ain," the mohawk guy says, patting Kuroo on the back. A tall, light brown haired man was next to greet him, then proceeded to exclaim "MUMMA KOZUME!!" and practically jumped onto the poor woman.

Wait, did he just say Kozume? Isn't Kenma's surname Kozume?

"Hey mum," Kenma greets, kneeling down to hug Kuroo's mum.

Who's mum is this lady?! I swear to god I'm going to go crazy.

"Hello hello everyone," A massive grey haired guy says, kissing Kuroo's mum on the cheek and hugging Kuroo.

The last guy to greet them is a tan guy with a buzz cut, and he does the same as his friend before.

"So Kuroo, when di'ja get yourself a girl, huh?" The grey haired guy asks, looking offended that he didn't know before now.

I raise my eyebrows as Kuroo just smiles guiltily. He introduces me to his friends and I wave hello, as they all begin to introduce themselves.

The grey haired guy says his name is Lev and that he's half Russian. A weird detail to include but interesting I guess.

The light brown haired man introduces himself as Yaku, and says that he was Kuroo's senpai back in high school.

"Yeah a demon senpai," Kuroo mutters in reply. My smile quickly turns into a grimace as Yaku jumps on him and they both start brawling on the floor, making a loud ruckus. A loud thumping can be heard from downstairs as Mrs. Suzuki starts to lose her mind and continues to bang the handle of her broom to her ceiling.

"Ugh, you morons upset Mrs. Suzuki! She's going to talk my ear off next time I see her..." I complain, grabbing a cushion and throwing it at the boys.

They flinch at my anger and quickly get up, muttering a quick apology. My glare softens as mohawk introduces himself as Yamamoto, and the tan guy says his name is Kai whilst vigorously shaking my hand.

"It's very nice meeting all of you. Dinner will be ready in a bit so please just make yourselves comfortable," I announce, making my way back into the kitchen.

The boys, all sporting grins, make their way to the living room and sit on the couches, man-spreading and slouching all over the place, one person taking up the usual spot for two.

I sigh, focusing on the dumplings in front of me.

I stiffen as I feel large hands on my waist, and a presence behind me. Visibly relaxing once I realise it's Kuroo, I turn around, his hands still resting on my hips, and his face nestled in the crook of my neck.

"Please just go along with it. We have to act like a couple if they're going to believe us," he mutters, his hot breath causing shivers to run up my spine.

I simply nod, instinctively placing my arms around his neck and running my fingers through his hair, something I've wanted to do since that day.

He groans into my neck, and I find myself holding my breath as I continue my hand movements.

"OI LOVEBIRDS! MUM SAYS THE DUMPLINGS ARE GONNA FUCKIN' STICK! Ow! Oh, sorry," I snatched my hands back from Kuroo, pushing his chest, my cheeks flushing in embarrassment.

What the fuck am I doing?!

I turn around back to the stove, mixing the dumplings in the boiling water as my thoughts race.

That felt too real, too much like a real relationship.

And way too addicting, apparently, since I already miss his close proximity.

The warmth on my waist disappears as I hear Kuroo running back into the living room.

"SHUT UP YOU MORON, THE DUMPLINGS ARE FINE!" I hear him scream, and then a loud thud as he presumably tackles whoever yelled at us to the ground.

I sigh as I hear Mrs. Suzuki's muffled thuds from downstairs in record time.

"You know I'm going to have to make Mrs. Suzuki some kind of apology cake because you boys can't sit down and act like adults," I complained, my arms crossed and an unimpressed expression on my face.

Lev and Yamamoto are on the floor playing some kind of Connect 4 game I've never seen before, while Kai looks to be having a deep conversation with Kuroo's mum, who is perched on the single arm chair like the queen she is.

Kenma is hogging the tv playing some kind of video game on Kuroo's ps5 (which I've hogged on more than one occasion), and Kuroo on the other hand has Yaku in a headlock.

He immediately lets go and apologises, and so does Yaku, who even bows in his regret.

I roll my eyes and shake my head at his mum, who just laughs, and I make my way back into the kitchen, setting food on the table and calling them in to eat.

After dinner, I find myself showered in compliments and not a bite of dinner leftover for tomorrow's lunch. Damn I'm good.

I served up cake I had already prepared from earlier along with fruits I washed and set on plates, and watched as that was eaten and finished before I even sat down. Kuroo's mum scolded the boys for poor manners, and they all apologised. Well, all except Kuroo, who just wiggled his pierced brows and winked at me.

I sit down on the floor next to the couch, since it was all occupied, and hear a dissatisfied sound coming from Kuroo's mum.

"Now, now, sweetheart. You don't have to be shy around me, just go on and take your usual seat next to Tetsuro," she says, nudging her head in Kuroo's direction, where the only vacant spot was literally his lap.

I look at her with wide eyes, even Kuroo seems taken aback by her suggestion, and all the boys are immaturely ‘oohing’ loudly as they laugh and make fun of us.

Kuroo makes a gesture for me to come next to him, so I hold back my heavy sigh, try my best to hide the flush on my face, and walk towards him, awkwardly perching on his knee.

He chuckles as he grabs my waist and pulls me flush towards his chest, my butt in the corner of the couch and my legs resting diagonally over his, so that my head is directly in the crook of his neck.

I hate to say it, but this is actually really damn comfortable.

Conversation has started up again, but it becomes secondary to the beat of his heart right under my ear, and my eyes start to get heavy as his scent and warmth lull me to a comfort that is beyond being awake and alert.

---

Kuroo's POV

"What a cute girl she is, Tetsu. I'm so glad you've found her. And now that you've got her, you better. Not. Let. Go." She says, slapping me on the arm with each word of her last sentence.

What is it with women and slapping me?

"Ok, ok, I know mum, I won't stuff this up. I promise," I respond, smiling at her.

"Ok, well, I'm staying over at Kenma's house. Ah, no objections. You've already got your hands full, and I don't want to be in the way of young love. Plus, I'd rather listen to Kenma's midnight streams than you two in the middle of the night," she says, not accepting my objections and giving me a knowing look. My face warms to what she's insinuating, and I mutter a quick, "it's not like that," as I duck my head into Y/n's shoulder.

By this time the boys have all left, Kenma's downstairs waiting in his car for his mum to come, but she insisted on staying back for a few minutes to talk to me.

Y/n fell asleep a while ago now, still nestled on my lap, her head on my shoulder and her figure keeping me warm.

"I know exactly how it is, my darling. I've seen how you two act, pretending to be in a relationship just so we don't ask any uncomfortable questions. I won't meddle in your life, I never did, Tetsuro. But I will give you advice I expect you to consider. Don't let her go. Neither of you were pretending about your feelings towards each other, let me tell you that much." She says, knowingly looking at me.

I look up in alarm, which quickly morphs into a nervous laugh. She's good, I'll give her that much.

But, can Y/n really mirror my feelings?

"Ok darling, better not leave Kenma waiting any longer. I'll visit again tomorrow, or you can come over to Kenma's, whichever you prefer as long as she comes along too. I want to get to know my future daughter-in-law better!!"

With that, the woman who took me in and treated me like her own left my home.

I look down at my roommate, taking in the way her lashes are long enough to brush against her face, the way her brows are just a tad bit asymmetrical, the stroke of her nose and the bend of her cupid's bow.

I can't help but bring my hand up to caress the side of her face, content to stay here forever.

Mum would've loved her.

This thought broke the dam that held back my tears since middle school, and as they fell down my face I couldn't help but think of my own mother, coming in and hugging her, making her famous pie that I can't remember the taste of anymore. A sob racks my figure and I all of a sudden find a pair of e/c eyes staring up at me, my tears having dampened some parts of her face.

Wordlessly, she straightens herself and wraps her arms around my neck, running her fingers through the back of my head, stroking down towards my nape and up again. I cry into her shoulder, tears that I've bottled up, emotions I've ignored because I've had my dad, my grandparents and the Kozume's. Later, I even had the team, and they all followed me to the racing gig, a place where I can express my emotions through the reckless driving that could claim my life any second. I should have been grateful. Instead, the pain of her absence never ceased.

I clutch the back of her sweatshirt as I cry and cry and cry, eventually tiring myself out and running out of tears.

With dry sobs still racking my body every few minutes, she finally leans back, cupping my face in her gentle hands.

"What's the matter, Kuroo?" She whispers, looking up at me with tears shining in her own eyes. "You can tell me anything, or you can say nothing at all. Either way, I'm here for you. I'll always be here for you," she says, touching her forehead to mine and closing her eyes. She stays here for a moment before moving to get up and drag me up too.

"Come on, let's get you into your pjs and into bed. It's getting late."

---

Your POV

Now in his usual shorts and singlet, I drag him to his massive bed, opening the neatly made bed and gently sit him down.

His hazel eyes follow me as I go to close the curtains, his lashes still wet from the countless tears he shed, his body still hiccupping with dry sobs.

Once I've put his blankets around him, I go to leave, muttering a goodnight as I leave.

"Y/n," I hear before I close the door. I peek my head in, "please stay."

Without a pause to think about his request, and already in my own pyjamas, I go next to him and crawl into his open arm as if I've been doing it every night, snuggling into his shoulder once more and wrapping my arm around his chest.

After a few moments of silence, he begins to speak in a raspy tone, "she's not my real mum. She's Kenma's mum, and I've... I've called her mum since I was around 7," he takes a deep breath before continuing. "I moved in with my dad and grandparents next door to the Kozumes when I was 6. I was nervous and shy back then. You wouldn't even recognise me because of the 180 turn my personality's taken. Kenma was even more social than I was. He was my first friend, and when I got him into volleyball and we met Coach Nekomata. That man inspired me to be the man I am today, and was the main reason why I joined the volleyball team in high school, and made friends with the guys. He did what my mum should've, supported me and gave me the confidence to live my life," he says, his voice cracking with the last word. I hug him tighter, knowing not to say anything as of yet.

"I just wish... I wish she didn't go. I wish she could've met you, Y/n. She would've loved you even more than Kenma's mum does," he confesses with a chuckle, sniffling and turning towards me to look me in the eyes.

"She would've seen the way I was around you. The different man I become. You make me a better person, Y/n. I find myself wanting to be better for you. I could never thank you enough for that. Please, never leave. Just stay with me, and I'll always be here for you," he says, repeating the same words I said to him earlier.

I can't help the smile from taking over my features and I lean in to kiss his nose, his eyes, his cheeks and finally I press my lips against his, something I have been wanting to do for a very long time.

"I will, Kuroo Tetsuro. I'll always stay with you."

A/n: So, I don't actually know if his mum passed away or if she left them, so I kind of just,, did both ?

Taglist: @3daa & @itsgiorgiaz

Notes, interactions and reblogs are highly appreciated <3

#racer!kuroo #haikyuu x reader #haikyufics #kuroo tetsuro scenarios #haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines #kuroo x you #kuroo tetsuro x you #kuroo tetsurou #haikyu angst #haikyuu drabbles #haikyu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu au #kuroo angst #kuroo comfort #kuroo fluff #kuroo au

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yasminbenoit · 3 years

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“A Romantic Partner Won’t Complete Me, Because I Was Born Complete”: How Identifying As Asexual & Aromantic Brought Me True Freedom & Happiness | Yasmin Benoit for British Vogue

There is a phase in our lives where everyone seems asexual and almost everyone seems aromantic. It wasn't until puberty kicked in that platonic relationships seemed to take a backseat. My peers stopped wanting to play together and started wanting to 'date' each other. That was when I started to realise that there was something different about me. I didn’t seem to be experiencing the same urges as those I was around. I chose to go to an all girls school in the hopes that – in the absence of boys – everyone would stop caring about sex and dating. It actually had the opposite effect. There was a sense of deprivation in the air and the heightened desire to project their sexuality onto anything and everything.

Therefore, my lack of interest became even more obvious, and it became a not-so-fun game to work out the source of what should be troubling me, but hadn’t been until that point. Having a sexual orientation isn’t just natural, it’s essential. It’s part of being a fully-functional human being. And to be romantically love and be loved by another is the ultimate goal. It’s part of being normal, which made me both abnormal and puzzling. When your asexual, people think there’s something wrong with your body. When you’re aromantic, they think there’s something wrong with your soul. Even for a teenage girl who internalised all of Disney Channel’s “be yourself” messages, it’s never nice to have people publicly debate your supposed physical and psychological flaws.

My nickname in school was “hollow and emotionless.” I was a joker with a decent amount of friends, but I was lacking something crucial, the kind of love that really mattered and the kind of lust that made life exciting...so I was practically Lord Voldemort with braids. I sat through the regular DIY sexuality tests, having my peers show me graphic sexual imagery, have very sexual conversations in my presence, and ask me inappropriately intimate questions to gauge how far gone I truly was. These tests lead to the development of theories, most centred around me having some kind of mental problem. After a while, you start to wonder if everyone knows something you don’t.

When they said that I must have been molested as a child and “broken” by the trauma, I wondered if I had somehow forgotten about sexual abuse that actually hadn’t happened. I looked at some of my own relatives with suspicion, the same people who would later ask me if I didn’t experience sexual attraction because I was a pedophile. It was suggested that I was “suffering” from my “issues” because I was socially anxious and insecure. The suggestion that my ‘issue’ was pathological stayed with me for a long time, but not as much as the widely accepted theory that I was mentally slow. Unfortunately, that one stuck. I was referred to as “stupid” and I started to believe that was the case. It would impact my experience in education for the next eight years, long after I realised that there was a word for what I was.

Asexual.

I first heard the word during one of the near-daily sexuality tests that I was subjected to. I was asked if I was gay, to which I said that I wasn’t interested in anybody like that – men or women. At fifteen, I was asked, “Maybe you’re asexual or something?” but it wasn’t quite a lightbulb moment. How could it be when I had never heard the word outside of biology class? After an evening of Google searching, I realised that there were many people with my exact same experience, complete strangers whose stories sounded so strangely similar to mine. I also stumbled across the word ‘aromantic,’ but at the time, I didn’t understand the need for it. "Wouldn't all asexual people be aromantic? A romantic relationship without sex is just friendship with rules,” I thought.

Either way, my discoveries showed me that I wasn’t alone, but that only half helpful. I now had an identity that no one had heard of or understood. Most didn’t believe that being asexual or aromantic was a real thing, and I doubted it to. I had been taught to after years of armchair pathologisation. If asexuality was real, why did no one tell you that being sexually attracted to nobody was an option? What if it was just an internet identity made up to comfort people with all of the issues that had been attributed to me? I didn’t have to go far down the rabbit hole to realise that asexuality, like many non-heteronormative identities, had been medicalised. What I had experienced as just the tip of the iceberg. As someone who hadn’t been prescribed drugs I didn’t need or subjected to unnecessary hormone tests, I was one of the lucky ones.

My activism would be my gateway to the community. Despite being the ugly friend at school, I ended up becoming a model while in university. I decided to use the platform I had gained through my career to raise awareness for asexuality and aromanticism. It gave me the opportunity to encounter a range of asexual and aromantic offline, it was then that I learned the significance of having an aromantic identity. There are many asexual people who still feel romantic attraction, as well as aromantic people who still feel sexual attraction. They have their own range of experiences, their own culture, their own flag, and like the asexual community, I was relieved to see that they are just normal people. These intersecting communities are not stereotypes. They weren’t just thirteen year old, pink haired kids making up identities on Tumblr to feel special. They were parents, lawyers, academics, husbands, girlfriends, artists, black, white, young, old, with differing feelings towards the many complex elements of sexuality and intimacy. Most importantly, they were happy.

I am proud to be part of both, and I know that while being asexual and aromantic, I am a complete person and I can live a perfectly fulfilling life. Since meeting members of my communities, I’ve become more open about my identities in real life, and a reaction I’m often met with is sympathy. “You must feel like you’re missing out,” “I can’t imagine being like that,” “It must be hard for your family,” “Do you worry no one will want you?” “How do you handle being so lonely?” “You’re so brave and strong,” “What will you do with your life now?” Even in 2021, a woman who isn’t romantically loved or sexually desired by their “special someone” is perceived as being afflicted with some kind of life-limiting condition.

Asexuality doesn't make undesirable or unable to desire others. It is a unique experience of sexuality, not a deprivation from it. Even if it was, there is so much more to life than what turns us on and what we do about it. Romantic love is just one form of love, neither superior nor inferior to any other. Being aromantic doesn't mean that you can't love or be loved, it does not mean you are void of other emotions or capabilities. I am not lonely with my friends, family, co-workers and supporters. I feel confident not when someone wants to date me but when I meet my goals and form worthwhile connections with others. My success isn't determined by whether someone will want to marry me someday. What we want out of life is our decision alone, our sources of happiness should not be defined by our ever-changing, culturally relative social standards. The love of a romantic partner won't complete me because I was born complete. Feeling sexual attraction to others won't liberate me because my liberation is not dependent on other people.

Valentine's Day is on the horizon. It's an occasion that amps up the focus on (and the pressure to achieve) a very specific type of love and sexual expression, one that is actually alienating for people inside and outside of the asexual community. During a pandemic where many relationships have been strained, tested, formed or distanced, it's important to keep the diversity of romantic and sexual feelings in mind. Many expect me to feel annoyed or lonely during this time of year, but I actually feel empowered and excited by the way sex, romance and love are discussed more deeply around this time. These conversations are constantly expanding to become more inclusive for everyone, and that's what we need to see all year round.

https://www.vogue.co.uk/arts-and-lifestyle/article/asexuality-and-aromanticism

#yasmin benoit #valentines day #british vogue #asexuality #aromantic #aromanticism #aroace #asexual #this is what asexual looks like #thisiswhatasexuallookslike

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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

Text

B is for Blindfolds

Summary: The BAU Christmas party is held at the office. Penelope is full of terrible ideas, but somehow Emily’s are worse.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and drunkenness, use of a blindfold (for a fun game, not anything sexy here), pining, idiots who don’t realise their love is reciprocated as HELL (they will, but not quite yet).

Word count: 3k

A/N: okay so i really had fun writing this one!!! i have a solid solid direction of where this is headed now and i’m EXCITED about it! as always, please let me know what you think :) this is technically Wednesday’s update, and there’ll be another on Friday!

This is the second chapter of the A-Z of Spencer Reid series, but can be read as a stand alone.

The team, yourself included, are more than ready to let off a little steam. There was no point trying to book anywhere in advance, not with the sporadic nature of festive serial killers, so you’d taken over the office. Penelope had, in eager anticipation of your return, decked it out like a winter wonderland.

“Seriously, it looks like someone robbed a grotto,” Emily had joked.

She wasn’t wrong. A seven-foot Christmas tree, God knows how she’d smuggled that into the building, obscured the hallway outside Hotch’s office. It was dripping in tinsel, baubles, you name it. It even had a nutcrucker man. Mistletoe was hung, obviously in a way she believed to be covert, and maybe it would have been if you weren’t all deeply familiar with the antics of Penelope I-Love-The-Holidays Garcia. You’re all careful to sidestep it as you walk in, knowing she’s a stickler for the rules. All equally reluctant to invoke her wrath before a glass of eggnog or two.

On the table, there’s a selection of alcohol laid out. Alongside a bunch of pink glittery cups.

“I got everything!” Penelope chirps.

“I can see that baby girl,” Morgan chimes in, greeting her with a hug.

She really has: there’s juice, fruit, almost every liquor you can think of (including the fancy whiskey that Rossi and Hotch like to get out at dinner), wine of varying colours, and what looks to be some fancy fruit cider. From the spread, and the mischevious twinkle in her eye, you’re sure she won’t be letting you escape unscathed.

At that thought, you can’t help but steal a glance to your right.

Spencer. The man is stood next to you with folded arms, surveying the options in a way that almost looks pensive.

Got to behave myself

I will behave myself

Will he be drinking?

That question is answered when he takes a step towards the table, stepping behind it. He picks up a plastic cup and, playing bartender, asks.

“So, what can I get you?”

***

“Mixology is pretty much the same as any other kind of chemistry,” Spencer explains, gesturing with the hand that’s holding his cup and swilling the liquid, “It’s about balancing the right components to get the combination you want. A lot of the recipes call for more alcohol than is strictly necessary for the flavour they provide. Usually the other elements of the drink are designed to bring out the flavour or mask it, depending on what alcohol you’re using. Almost always you want to mask the taste of vodka, but tequila you try to balance it out.”

Spencer is leant on the desk next to you, rambling, having been allowed to be in charge of making everybody’s drinks over the past couple of hours.

Sipping the concoction he’s made you, you have to admit he’s done a pretty good job.

He clearly agrees, since he’s consumed more than a couple himself. He’s just tipsy enough to push at the boundaries of affection, his shoulder pressing against yours, his happy eyes a little glassy. You listen, hanging on every word he says, watching him lick his lips before he continues speaking again.

“That’s why they serve tequila shots with lime and salt.”

“And here I was thinking they were just making it fun for body shots,” Emily cuts in, making Morgan and Penelope laugh.

You see the look on Penelope’s face and intercept her before she can start, “Don’t even think about it.”

“But!”

“No!” You shake your head, “You really think Hotch is going to go for body shots?”

Hotch laughs dryly, taking a sip of the whiskey he’s been nursing, “That’s one I think I’ll refrain from participating in.”

“Fine,” Penelope pouts, “But everybody’s doing pin the tail on the donkey!”

“Pin the tail on the donkey? What are we, 5 years old?” Emily laughs.

You lean in against Spencer, who has been quietly surveying the last few moments. Your fingers slip slightly beneath his buttoned sleeves, coming to rest on his forearm.

“Balance,” You whisper quietly.

He nods, shifting to allow you to lean more closely into him on the desk.

It’s hard not to get distracted by your proximity to him.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

Maybe. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t feel good. If you squinted, you might just look like a couple. That’s certainly what it looks like to Dave, who gives you a cursory once over before training his gaze elsewhere. Your heads are almost touching, Spencer is slouching but keeps his neck just stiff enough to avoid resting atop of yours. You’re casually against his body, the two of you strewn across the desk. It looks comfortable, familiar.

It feels comfortable, familiar.

It’s only because you’re drunk.

***

After a singular round of pin the tail on the donkey, during which a blindfolded Emily decided to go rogue and try to pin the tail on the moving-very-quickly-out-of-dodge Hotch, it’s decided the blindfolds will be used for a different purpose.

Trust falls.

Well, not so much trust falls, as you’re each blindfolded and tasked with the challenge of walking across the bullpen without falling.

“We’ll pair up!” Penelope announces, rubbing her hands together with glee, “Hotch you’re with Rossi, Emily you’re with me, Derek you’re with ____, and Spencer you’re with J.J!”

You will away the tinge of disappointment that flares in your chest at not having been paired with Spencer. Although, when you look up at him, you swear you can see a similar feeling sitting behind his eyes.

Probably reading too much into it

“Reid has an unfair advantage,” J.J argues, interrupting your thoughts.

“How do I have an unfair advantage?” Spencer asks.

“Eidetic memory,” She replies.

There are murmers of dissent, then Rossi pipes up.

“If you can’t make it across the bullpen you walk everyday without falling, I think you seriously need to consider whether you should be out in the field with a gun.”

Everybody laughs. They laugh more, though, when Rossi falls on his first attempt, crashing into Hotch. The two decide to resign from the game after that. Hotch plays the health and safety card, but privately you think it’s the double whiskeys that have betrayed him.

“You think you can do it?” You ask Spencer.

He smirks, “I could do it in my sleep.”

You shake your head, “Your legs are too long. You’re like Bambi at the best of times, let alone three mai tais in.”

“Two,” He objects, you quirk a brow and he relents, “Fine, three. And a whiskey Rossi gave me which was awful. I drank it fast and then he told me that one glass I’d had would cost $40. Who would pay $40 to drink that voluntarily?”

“Rossi, Hotch, Emily,” You smile, nudging him with your elbow, “And don’t think you’ve distracted me Spence, I’m still betting you fall.”

“You’re betting?”

“Yeah.”

“You’re that confident in my ability to mess up,” He teases.

“Something like that.”

He grins, “You’ll see.”

He takes the blindfold when it’s his turn, smirking at you as he adjusts it onto his face. It’s with a great degree of annoyance that you watch him clear the bullpen in five easy, and somehow very elegant, steps.

“Go Spence!” J.J cheers, her previous displeasure completely forgotten.

“Pretty boy!” Morgan cheers.

Without taking the blindfold off, Spencer tilts his head to exactly where you’re standing, smirking, “You wanna go next, ____?”

It’s hard not to visibly react to what his cockiness does to you.

You swallow, “Fine. Give it here.”

***

You move your feet confidently one in front of the other. After almost a year of walking the bullpen, you’re pretty certain you can get across it unscathed. You even remember to swing your hip to the right to miss the Santa gnome gone fishing currently hanging off Derek’s desk. In doing so, however, you manage to get yourself all caught up.

With a single step, you feel yourself slipping, arms flailing and managing to catch on to absolutely nothing. You panic.

"Spencer!"

"Spencer?!"

Spencer.

You recognise the feeling of his hands steadying you at your waist. He pulls you against his body, tucking your outstretched arm into him to steady you. You vaguely register Derek’s amused chuckle from behind you.

“I got you,” Spencer says, “Stay still, I’ll take the blindfold off.”

His hands gently slide up your cheeks, lifting it with care to avoid yanking on your hair. He pulls it up and away from your head smoothly.

The lights are dizzyingly bright. You blink rapidly, allowing your eyes to adjust on the face of the slightly concerned, slightly amused looking Spencer hovering above you. His left hand lingering against your cheek. You forget yourself entirely, lost in the intimacy of his touch, barely daring to blink in case it’s gone.

“Mistletoe!” Penelope cackles with glee, breaking your reverie.

“What?” You ask.

Spencer looks up. You follow his gaze, seeing the strategically placed mistletoe. In guiding you to safety, Spencer had walked right into Penelope’s trap.

Oh.

Derek teases something, underscored by a quip from Emily that has them both in hysterics. Neither you or Spencer are really listening.

He’s already so close to you. The pressure of his hand on your cheek starting to make you flush with warmth. His thumb strokes downwards, over your cheekbone. You tilt yourself a little towards him. Trying desperately to act casual, but ultimately failing miserably. His breath fans over your face, smelling faintly of rum and lime.

“Not like this,” He whispers, so quiet that only you can possibly hear him.

He presses a kiss to your cheek instead.

Fuck.

“Very exciting stuff guys,” Emily chirps.

Vaguely, you’re aware of J.J admonishing her, Rossi’s eyes studying you, Derek’s laughter, Penelope’s squeal of delight that someone had finally fallen into her trap.

Your heart thumps in your chest, and you wonder if it’s loud enough for Spencer to hear. From the way he swallows thickly, stepping back with a degree of caution and a look of a deer caught in the headlines, you think it probably was.

Fuck.

What did he mean not like this?

***

After the mistletoe debaccle, the party starts to die down a little. Hotch makes an excuse to leave, shortly followed by Rossi.

You stick around for a little while longer, devoting most of your time to the decidedly tipsy Penelope who’s hanging off Derek’s arm. The mood is nice, actually, a welcome change from the tense atmosphere that often clouds the bullpen, and its occupants wherever in the US they may be.

It’s a little after 1am when you decide to make your exit.

“Do you want to share an Uber?” You ask Spencer, gripping onto his elbow as he walks past.

“Yeah! I was planning on taking the metro but you’ll be safer in an Uber.”

“Are you...sharing it with me?” You ask, feeling a little awkward at having to repeat the request for clarification. The tipsiness you’d initially felt has started to wear off; it leaves both tiredness and an odd shyness in its place.

“Oh no! Of course!” He smiles, grabbing his satchel from where it’s slung over the back of his chair, “We’ll get them to drop you off first, then me.”

***

The wait for the Uber is silent, but not uncomfortable. You loll against Spencer, comfortable in the quiet. The only sounds to be heard of keys as various other agents leave the building. It’s easy to tell which are coming from the grind of the paperwork and which are coming from their own parties. You’d like to attribute it to a years worth of profiling experience but the tinsel around Jerry from White Collar Crimes’ neck is a tad on the nose.

You don’t speak until it arrives, climbing in and closing the door. Clicking your seatbelt into place.

“Sorry about embarassing us before,” You say, purposely being ambiguous.

He squints at you for a moment before opening his mouth, “You mean calling for me when you fell?”

“Yeah,” You say,

“You didn’t embarass me,” He says, quiet, “It was nice actually. Nobody’s ever called for me when they’ve been in trouble before.”

“What do you mean?”

“I uh, I guess I’m not the most athletic. People usually go to Morgan if they need some kind of physical help. It was nice. That you wanted me. Even if you are drunk.”

“I’d have asked for you sober,” You admit.

He squints in response, and you continue, “I trust you Spence. I trust you to always have my back in the field, to protect me. I’d trust you with my life. I mean, of course I’d trust any one of the others, the team wouldn’t work otherwise. But,” You trail off, a little embarassed.

“But it’s different.”

“Yeah. Like you’re the person I’m closest to I guess. In the almost year I’ve been here, we’ve worked together the most. I think I have the best working relationship with you. If ever there was a crisis, I’d want you. Even if the crisis is me tripping on my own shoelaces while blindfolded.”

You both laugh at that. It’d be easy to succumb to a comfortable silence again, let the moment fizzle out.

“I think the same about you,” He says, his voice cracks a little with the sincerity, “Whenever anything goes wrong. You’re the person I want to talk to.”

You move your hand forward to close the gap between you two, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it, “I’m really glad we have each other Spence.”

“Even when I beat you?” The playful glint in his eye is back.

“Even when you beat me.”

“If I remember correctly, and I usually do, you actually owe me for losing the bet.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, you said ‘I’m still betting you fail.’“

You smile, “We never agreed what we were betting.”

“We didn’t.”

"So what do you want as your prize then, Rudolph?”

“Rudolph?” He laughs a little, incredulously.

“Well I called you Bambi before and obviously you’ve proved you’re more talented, I needed to pick a respectably agile deer.”

“Rudolph was known for his nose, not his agility.”

“The song says he guided the sleigh Spence, he couldn’t have done that if he wasn’t agile.”

He shakes his head at you, “He was just in charge of the lights.”

“Did they or did they not get around the world safely?”

“The song never clarifies that.”

“It’d be a little dark for them to kill off Rudolph.”

“Probably why they didn’t include it in the song.”

You huff out a laugh, rolling your eyes, “Well anytime you decide to stop nitpicking my compliments and decide what you want as your prize is fine by me, honestly.”

He smiles, obviously having decided to answer you sincerely. You study him as he, presumably weighs up his options, his teeth momentarily catching his plush lower lip. You swear you see his eyes flicker to your mouth. But then you blink, and he’s studying you thoughtfully.

Just wishful thinking

"Caramel,” He settles on.

"Caramel?”

“Last year I went to this coffee shop and I got their festive caramel coffee. It was amazing. But they only did it that one year, they gave me the recipe for the syrup but...” He trails off, looking embarassed, and when he speaks again his voice is quieter, “I kept burning it. I had a thermometer but I couldn’t get the temperature quite right.”

"You want me to make you caramel syrup for coffee? Mixologist skills don’t extend quite that far?”

He doesn’t say anything, instead pressing his lips together in a thin line. Almost as if he’s worried for your reaction.

You're quick to follow yourself up, “Well I’d be happy to give it a try, but I think I’ll need somebody to taste test it. Make sure I’m getting it right.”

He grins, “I’m probably a better taste taster than maker.”

“Well, we’re off for a few days, assuming we don’t get any cases. You’re at Ethan’s for Christmas, right? When are you back?”

“The 27th. But I’m going to visit my mom over new years, so I’m leaving again on the 30th.”

You nod, “Well, how about the 28th?”

“The 28th sounds good.”

It’s impossibly good (bad) timing that the Uber pulls up outside your building.

“Well I’ll look forward to it,” You say, undoing your seatbelt.

“Me too.”

There’s a silence. Not uncomfortable, but definitely not like the one earlier. Your eyes linger on one another, almost cautious. There’s a buzz in the air, one that can't quite be attributed to alcohol.

Ask him what he meant by not like this

Ask him

“This your place?” The Uber driver asks, clicking his tongue with a degree of impatience.

“Yeah,” You reply, nodding. Reluctantly, you push open the car door, turning your head over your shoulder to look at Spencer as you depart.

His mouth hangs open a little, words seeming to play across his lips. Not making them out of his mouth. The driver clears his throat, and you throw him an apologetic glance. Spencer’s Uber rating will be in the toilet after this.

Good job he takes the Metro.

"Have a good Christmas Spence,” You say, wondering if he can tell. Wondering if he can sense how badly you want to stay, to let this Uber drive you around the backstreets of Virginia. They’re not particularly pretty. But there isn’t much you wouldn’t do just to spend time with him. You’d even allow yourself to promise caramel syrup you know you’ll butcher.

If he knows, the wistful look in his eyes doesn’t betray it.

“Have a good Christmas, _____.”

---

Next part: C is for Caramel

Series tagslist: @altsvu @reidingmelodies @muffin-cup @reidscanehand @bvttercupbby @jessicarabbit09 @lukewearingbeanies @lady-anon-x @aperrywilliams @southsidemistress @a-broken-pact @jjongs-tae-and-biscuits @reidsnose

(message me/reply to this to be added or removed!)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #reid x reader #imagine spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #imagine criminal minds #criminal minds x you #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #a-z of spencer reid #the a-z of spencer reid

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realcube · 3 years

Text

haikyuu!! boys dating you for a bet then falling hcs 💘

characters: oikawa, kuroo & osamu

tw// angst to fluff, swearing, sexual references - minor dni!

OIKAWA’S AND KUROO’S ARE AGED UP !

thank you anon for this request 😚

Tōru Oikawa

everyone on the team was teasing him for getting broken up with bc he was ‘too obsessed with volleyball’

he had finally had enough and made a bet with iwaizumi, matsukawa and hanamaki that he could get a s/o quicker than any of them

they accepted ofc but that’s when oikawa learned that hanamaki was already talking to a girl he liked which meant that it was a race against time for oikawa to find someone to date

in reality, he had no interest in dating atm but he had to do this for the sake of his pride

he settled on asking you out bc you were his lab partner for chemistry and even before the bet, he was making playful flirtatious banter with you but it’s not like he had any real feelings for you which meant that breaking up with you afterwards would be simple..right?

also, asking you out would be an easy win

and it was 🤠

oikawa won the bet and regained some confidence which meant he was now free to break up with you

buuuut y’all had only just started dating so he didn’t want to break up with you before the first date so he postponed the break up until after y’all went to the movies together

then the night came - he had just came back home for your first date at the movies, he took you to see an alien invasion movie and you said you loved it

he stared at his phone which was open on IMessage, on your contact; his fingers hovered over the keypad but the words didn’t come to him the way he expected

the more he thought about, he realised that you guys hadn’t even had your first kiss yet and he wanted to give you a sweet memory to leave you with before he inevitably dumped you so he decided to postpone the break-up again, until you guys had your first kiss

and since his messenger was open, he invited you on a second date to the park where you had your first kiss over a shared cone of vanilla ice-cream

honestly, he had such a great time on the date that in the moment, he completely forgot about the fact he had to break-up with you so here he was again, sitting on his bed and looking down at his phone glumly as he searched his brain for the right words to say

but when he allows his mind to wonder for too long, it always comes back to one thing

so figured that he’d hold off breaking-up with you until your first time and from there — depending on how good you are — he’ll decide whether he wants to dump you or keep you around just as a side fling

the day eventually came three months later, not that he was complaining though as he’s developed a lot more patience since he’s started dating you

you had just came back from a date at the bowling alley and something about seeing Oikawa in bowling shoes and a partially unbuttoned shirt was enough to make you go feral so as soon as you arrived at his house, y’all went for it

in all honesty, sex with you just hit different for oikawa

it was nothing like he’s ever experienced before

like it was kind, sensual and filled with mutual praise and he truthfully never wanted it to end but once it did and he was sprawled out on the bed next you, breathing heavily with your fingers intertwined, he realised that he didn’t want to break up with anymore

the last 4 months that you guys have been dating, truthfully was the best time of his life, like he feels so happy and genuine when he’s around you, there’s no way he’d leave you now

‘I love you, (y/n).’ he hummed, turning his head to the side to look at your peaceful figure laying next him - god, you’re beautiful

‘I love you too, Tōru.’

Tetsurō Kuroo

him and bokuto had a bet to see who could fuck more ppl in a month

the third year gym squad gc was confused but not too confused i mean this is kuroo and bokuto we’re talking about

akaashi, kenma and tsukishima were all disapproving of this idea for their own reasons

akaashi thought it was immoral while kenma and tsukishima thought it was just a ‘who can get an std first competition’

as for hinata and lev, shōyō had his bet on bokuto while lev was rooting for kuroo

kuroo was going to start his hunt for sex partners at the club tonight but he had already agreed that he’d do the business assignment with you tonight and since it was a partnered thing, he’d feel guilty if he opted out last minute

he sat on his bed while you took a seat at his desk, working away at the project while kuroo ‘supervised’

kuroo was bummed that bokuto was probably getting laid rn while he was stuck in his room doing an assignment- WAIT

you were here with him ( •̀ ω •́ )✧ and he was like..90% sure you had the thing for him soooo

he immediately sprung up from his bed and shuffled towards you, grabbing your hips to momentarily lift you up so he could pull you away from the project and onto his lap as he sat on his bed, tracing your jaw with his finger

‘time for a break~’ he cooed in your ear, massaging your thigh with spare hand, ‘only if want though, doll.’

xdfghj OFC YOU DID

consent = given ✨

kuroo = hard

your sex = destroyed

ass = red

you = overstimulated as hell 💅

if you started during the day, expect the sun to have gone down by the time y’all were finished

he offered to take you on a date so you both could do this again sometime and you said yes

but he reassured himself that you were only a hook up- definitely nothing serious- no feelings whatsoever

so a week later, he took you on a sweet, wholesome date to a carnival and you got railed afterwards 🥰

your next few dates went in a similar way until one fateful day where you were just..tired

neither of you really wanted to smash tbh, you were just happy laying in each other’s arms

and as time went on, you guys went on more dates where there was absolutely no sexual activities, just sweet intimacy

and he...... liked it

why did he like it???

you were nothing more than a sexual relief to him, right??

so why did he enjoy cuddling with you so much? shouldn’t he be fuckin you rn? but he didn’t want to...like he was lowkey vibin with you in his arm while watching modern family

then he looked down at you in his arms, the light of the screen highlighting your features beautifully

‘i think i might actually want to marry you one day.’ he blurted out, lightly tracing the bridge of your nose with his finger

this caught you off-guard so you looked up at him, an adorable pink blush dusting your cheeks, ‘really?’ was all you could think to reply

‘yeah.’

Osamu Miya

ofc it was a bet with atsumu ofc it was a bet with atsumu

‘who could get the hotter s/o competition?’ and suna would decide who wins

the twins had a month to get a s/o who was hot asf

so osamu asked you out in maths bc you were the most attractive person he kinda already talks too

you said yes as you sorta kinda maybe had a lil’ thing for him

however, he didn’t even ask you out on a date

in fact, he barely even talked to you after he asked you out until the day came where suna judged which miya twin won the bet

osamu did ofc

then he kinda forgot y’all were dating until one day you snapped him with the caption ‘???’

he was like ‘hey’

sorry i firmly believe he is the driest texter

anyway he felt bad for neglecting you for over a month so he said he’d make it up to you by taking you out to dinner

but he promised himself that dinner was only an apology and right afterwards, he’d cut you off

he was scrolling through his phone, looking for places to take you and although he wanted to just get take-out, even he knew that fast-food probably wasn’t a very romantic date idea

wait- he didn’t care about it being romantic- did he??

eventually he settled on an expensive restaurant bc getting you a take-away probably wasn’t a very good apology

so anyway he took you out and he actually had a pretty good time ^^

i mean, when you coincidentally ordered the same thing off the menu as him- he kinda caught feelings

osamu would definitely realise that he fell for you faster than oikawa and kuroo

just the way his hand just feels a pull towards yours when you’re walking side-by-side is a dead giveaway

so once the date is over and he dropped you off at your house, instead of breaking up with you as he planned, he simply placed a tender kiss on your forehead and smiled, ‘we should do this again soon.’

when he saw the way your face lit up and you squealed slightly, he knew he made the right decision

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quillsanddaydreams · 3 years

Text

starry henna

sirius black x desi!reader

—author’s note: this was something I'd been waiting to write since forever. Requested by @sirisuorionblack, thank you so much bby I loved writing it. I hope you enjoy! Sirius attends your sister's wedding which finally makes him confess his feelings.

—warning(s): mentions of food and drink. female!reader (pronouns aren’t used, but is implied).

—word count: 1,754

You adjusted your bangle, before taking a last look at yourself. The traditional salwar you chose for the day was growing on you. Your sister called you, struggling to tie the threads at the back of her dress. Taking them from her hand, you made a beautiful butterfly knot, moving to take a final glance at her. She bit her lip, raising her eyebrows.

“Kaisi lag rahi huun? (How do I look?)” she asked, moving a strand of her hair nervously as you smiled at her encouragingly.

“Bahut sundar, (Very beautiful)” you said softly, hugging her. She sighed. “Itni kya jaldi hai shaadi karne ki? Thoda ruk nahi sakte the? (Why did you have to rush to marry? Couldn't you wait for a bit?)”

She chuckled, pulling back, holding both your arms.

“I’m gonna miss you too, not more than my room though,” she laughed, lightening the mood. She always seemed to know how to do that.

“Now let’s go, we wouldn't want to keep everyone waiting. Especially that boyfriend of yours,” she said a knowing look on her face as you felt your cheeks warm. You protested.

“He’s not my boyfriend—”

“Not yet,” she said, cutting you off. Something about her smirk told you; you couldn’t argue with her. But then again, you didn’t want to.

The two of you moved out of your room, placing the hotel key safely in your bag. It was rather silent in the elevator, you knew your sister was anxious about the ceremony. Not that one could tell that as soon as you arrived at the hall. You gasped taking in the changed decorations. Colorful, studded umbrellas hung from the ceiling and small couches were placed along the edges of the room— mehendi artists sat there with people surrounding them with open palms. Everyone’s eyes landed on your sister as she beamed and greeted them gracefully. You wondered whether you could ever be as elegant as her.

You gazed across the room looking at your cousins, mausis, and other members of the extended family. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves. Seeing James, Sirius, Remus, and Peter at the back near the food stands; you made your way over to them. They looked charming in kurtas you had bought with them earlier. And what a shopping trip had it been.

“No but you have to get it, it’s what today is about—” James said to a tired-looking Remus.

“What is today about?” you asked, amused. They wheeled towards you, their faces lighting up.

“Tell Remus he must get henna,” James pleaded, and Remus swayed his head wildly.

“Well,” you started smugly. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

Remus groaned making Peter snort. You faced Sirius who was staring at you wordlessly. Ignoring the tickling in your stomach, you asked him, “Are you not getting one too?”

Sirius shook himself a little, before releasing a cough.

“Well, I was hoping you would apply some on me,” he said as you raised your eyebrows.

“Me?” you asked, incredulously.

“You are quite the artist and the tattoo would mean more with you making it,” he said. “If you want, of course.”

“I would like that,” you said after a beat.

“You’re looking stunning today by the way,” Sirius added. “You do everyday, but this dress…”

“And we’re invisible again,” James said before you reply. Remus let out a laugh patting him.

“Bet they wouldn’t have noticed if we slowly moved away,” Peter snickered.

Sirius shoved his shoulder casually as you picked up a drink to hide your expression.

“I think you should get your henna done now,” you said, seeing your sister sit down at the head of the room, the henna women sitting by her sides and taking her hands. “I got mine done in the morning. It would take time to dry.”

As James and Peter took Remus away unwillingly, you shifted towards Sirius.

“Come, I’ll find a cone to make some on you,” you told Sirius, taking him by his hand. Moving to one of the couches you asked for some spare henna. The boy nodded, giving you a fresh cone along with some cotton swabs and cleanser.

The two of you proceed to sit at a corner and you put a cushion over your leg for support.

“Where would you like me to draw?” you asked as he offered you his left palm dramatically, running the other hand through his hair— picture of a model. You giggled.

“And what exactly do you want it to look like?” you asked, placing your hand on your cheek.

“I didn’t think much about that,” he pondered. “I do like those vines on yours? Uh— make whatever you like.”

You hummed, thinking. Perchance you did know what exactly would suit him. Cleaning his hand with a cotton swab, you took a cone in your hand and started making little footprints from his thumb to his pinky finger. Sirius inhaled sharply when he realized what you were drawing.

“Tsk, stay put,” you said as Sirius sat up straighter. He looked on to what you created keenly. You caught him gazing at you instead more often than not, making it harder for you to concentrate.

“You never quite told us what this is about,” he said after some time. “I mean it’s pretty great, people getting temporary tattoos before a wedding. And from what I’ve learnt from staying here, everything has a meaning. Does it have a story too or?”

“It’s supposed to wish the bride prosperity and happiness,” you said, remembering what your mother told you when you asked her the same. “A saying goes that the darker someone’s henna becomes, the more loving their partner is.”

“Oh?” he asked curiously, looking at your hands. “If your henna becomes darker later— it would be because of some lover?”

You chuckled.

“Well, according to the saying yes,” you shook your head. “In reality, it depends on your skin and what kind of powder you use to make the mehendi. But it’s pretty to believe the saying, don’t you think?”

“If you have someone in mind, then yes,” he replied.

“Do you?”

Sirius eyed you intensely. Your heart beat faster awaiting his answer.

“I do,” he said. For a moment neither of you looked away from each other. The dholak began to play startling you both out of the trance. You peeked at him and then got on to make little paws to complete the design. Neither of you dared to speak again. The tension seemed almost unbearable.

“Tada!” you said on adding the finishing touches. Sirius observed the design, seemingly delighted with it.

“It’s so pretty,” he hushed. “The paws, the footprints... brilliant! I wish I could do the same for you...”

“You can actually” you said all of a sudden. Sirius furrowed his eyebrows as you explained further. “There is a small space left here you could make something on.”

“You would like that?”

“I would love it,” you gaped as Sirius shook his head. “You can do it, please Sirius, that way we both would have made each other a tattoo.”

“I’m not great at art,” he pointed out. “And what would I even make?”

“Make the Orion belt,” you said, ignoring the heat rising in your ears. “I saw those gorgeous astronomy projects you made and I would love something starry and tied to you too.”

Sirius blushed, abashed.

“If you want that,” he said. You handed him the used cone, having won, and laid out your palm to him.

Carefully marking up the stars he began to fill them in. You bit your lip watching Sirius work. His hair fell over his face, curls licking his skin. He was so caught up in work that he seemed to forget everything nearby.

“I know I’m handsome but I won’t be able to work with you looking at me like that,” he said, unmoving. You flushed, mummering you weren’t making Sirius smirk widen.

“Of course you weren’t.”

Sirius heaved a sigh sitting back, letting you regard the stars.

“It’s beautiful—”

You wanted to say more but your cousin Ruuhan came beside you, grabbing your arm to get your attention.

“Come dance, everyone is!” he said as you grinned. You looked at Sirius in silent question as he shook his head telling you to go on. Your mausis and other cousins were already dancing when you were pulled in. Laughing you moved along with them, dragging your sister to dance along with you.

You spent the night eating, dancing and having fun. The marauders joined you— you gave them your best puppy dog eyes when they said no. Amidst everything, you couldn’t remember the last time you had been this happy. It felt like a high. A happy high. One you never wanted to escape.

The next few days passed in a blur and it was almost too soon you were walking your sister through the grounds to marry the girl she loved. Wrapping an arm with hers you watched all the eyes on you two. Sirius stood along with the marauders, gasping a little when he saw you. You gave him a small nod, expecting him to wink back or give a teasing look, but it never came. He looked at you like he was seeing stars for the first time. Angling your attention towards your sister, you stepped forward. Handing over her hand to her fiancée, you watched your sister get up on the stage. Tears welled up in your eyes. Sirius came to stand beside you and took your hand in his. Squeezing it a little, you gave him a reassuring glance.

“You know; the past few days I’ve realized something,” Sirius said quietly as the ceremony moved on. You gestured for him to continue.

“Love should be celebrated, grandly because,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Because you shouldn’t be afraid to show off the one you adore to all around you. What I couldn’t understand however; what were we supposed to do if all others except the person knew about the affection you had for them?”

You sucked in a breath, waiting for him to continue. Sirius took your hand in his, running his fingertips along with the stars he drew.

“I love you,” he whispered so softly you almost missed it. Your heart leaped as he avoided your eyes. You cradled his face, making him look at you. His grey eyes shone angelically under the fairy lights.

“I love you too, Sirius,” you said, pulling him close. The two of you sat with an arm around the other, watching your sister take her vows for life.

—as for the taglist: I don’t make taglists, I have a blog @from-my-quill which is updated whenever I post fanfiction. You could have the notifications on for it and it will work just like me tagging you.

⟨⟨REBLOGS AND FEEDBACK ARE APPRECIATED⟩⟩

#sirius black #sirius #sirius x reader #sirius black x reader #sirius black x you #sirius x you #sirius black x y/n #the marauders #james potter #remus lupin #hp #harry potter #sirius fanfiction #sirius black fanfiction #sirius black fluff #from anu's quill

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pineapple-lover-boy · 3 years

Text

Poly!Fuyuhiko x Reader x Nagito

Request: “I saw you do Danganronpa and idk if this is ok or not but can you do a poly hcs with Fuyuhiko,Magito, and reader???”

Fuyuhiko x Reader x Nagito

A/N: Never thought I wanted this pairing until now lol. Btw with poly ships I don’t it where two+ people are sharing one person. Usually everyone is is with everyone. If you want to request a poly where the reader or someone else is the main focus of the relationship than please be specific.

Warnings: non-despair AU, some non explicit nsfw content at the end

The Beginning:

The only way this relationship started was through you

Both had rather large crushes on you but neither wanted to admit it

Fuyuhiko was the definition of a tsundere

Nagito believed you were too good for him

It was clear how they liked you though

Both treated you better than the rest, albeit reluctantly

You had to make the first move

Of course, confessing to both at the same time wouldn’t be helpful as they weren’t exactly friendly with each other

It would be idiotic to do that

But you were a dumbass said with affection

And here you were

Both we’re definitely confused as to why you brought them to a park right out side of school

What business would you have with the both of them?

When you confessed it came out as a jumbled mess:

“ListenIknowthisiscomingoutofknowherebutilikeyoutwothebothofyoupleaseacceptmyconfession!”

It was just too awkward confessing to the two most emotionally closed off people in your class

Fuyuhiko did not catch what you said and just gave you a weird look

Nagito did

And he giggled

He fucking giggled

“I’m flattered, Y/N, but you have no reason to be with someone as worthless as me. Fuyuhiko would be much better for you.”

“W-what?!”

Now Fuyuhiko was really confused

Nagito turned to Fuyuhiko, “Didn’t you hear her? She confessed to us. I don’t know why she’d want to confess her love to someo-”

You quickly interrupted him before he could continue self loathing, “I know this seems weird. I was surprised when I found out I liked you both too. I figured if I confessed to you two together it would be easier to accept your rejection, or least one of you liking me back. It doesn’t sound as good as I thought it was at the moment but if neither of you like me could we just carry on our day like nothing happened.”

They both stood silent before Fuyuhiko spoke up, “Who said I didn’t like you?”

He whispered with a raging blush on his face

“Yeah, and who said I didn’t like you either?”

Fuyuhiko’s and your face shot up to look at Nagito

“So what do we do now?” You asked

You would have never thought that your crush would be reciprocated twice

Your question was never answered though and all you got was silence

Soon after they two left and after moping for a bit, you did too

What you didn’t know was that they left to have their own private conversation

They wanted to make you happy and if being in a polyamorous relationship was gonna do it than so be it

The Relationship:

It wasn’t clear to you whether or not they accepted your confession until the next day

They would walk you to your classes, sit with you during lunch, and basically just be with your for as much of the day as they could

You may be wondering when their own feelings would surface for each other

That comes at least a few months into the relationship when your all comfortable with each other

You’d notice how Nagito would fuss over Fuyuhiko getting an injury, not even thinking to blame himself in the moment

Fuyuhiko would often talk some sense into Nagito when he later would try to blame his luck

Unlike his usual way of talking, he would try to be a bit softer with Nagito

He knew that being harsh would only make things worse

Let’s go on to the more domestic part of the relationship

Cuddles?

Yes.

It would take some time for both to warm up to the idea but after the first time they’ll start asking for more

Nagito’a the little spoon, you’re in the middle, and Fuyuhiko is the biggest spoon

If Nagito wants to be the big spoon then he’ll have to compromise with Fuyuhiko by being in the middle

If it’s night time when Fuyuhiko’s sleeping and you both wanna change it up?

Let’s hope that Nagito’s luck will help the both of you

It usually does

Fuyuhiko isn’t a heavy sleeper but he isn’t a light one either

You’d have to be careful

Imagine Fuyuhiko’s horror when he realizes either you or Nagito is being his big spoon

If it’s you he’ll just get annoyed

If it’s Nagito, he’ll start to feel his manliness get threatened

Bitch what??

He’ll try to push the skinny boy off but if he doesn’t relent or starts shaming himself for even thinking of it then Fuyuhiko will easily stop, get comfy again, and just grumble into your hair as he holds you tighter

No one can come after you

You got bullied? Fucking obliterated by Peko best girl no one can change my mind

Someone is being petty towards you? Nagito’s pettier

Once a kid bumped into you really hard, where you fell, but didn’t say sorry or help you up

Nagito was there and destroyed them with his words

They felt like pissing themselves and a terrible human being

Fuyuhiko got really angry when hearing about it later

You and Nagito just put your heads on each of his shoulders and your arms around his waist he stopped

He just froze and calm down

Think of Lilo putting the flowers on Stitch

That was him with you guys

In the bedroom (nothing too explicit unless requested):

Fuyuhiko wants to be the dom

Really really wants to and thinks that you and Nagito will submit to him

But, oh how he was wrong

Nagito is the true dom

He wants you and Fuyuhiko to be happy with him so if he’s asked he’ll be the bottom

But when he slammed Fuyuhiko down onto the bed and started talking dirty to him-

You? Weak in the knees and begging for him to do the same to you

Fuyuhiko? Red in the face and if Nagito starts playing around with him he’ll start whimpering

Nights like those where Nagito goes full dom only happens every so often

Fuyuhiko needs his manly boost so he dons most of the time

He’ll mostly be trying to pleasure you both at the same time without short circuiting is own brain

He doesn’t talk too much except for some comments here or there

When he’s had a rough day he’ll be the opposite though

Degradation master

If it’s more of a romantic evening though he’ll be lighter with how he speaks

Aftercare is the best

Depending on who was the top that day, they’ll be the ones taking care of the rest

Fuyuhiko rests for a bit before getting up and cleaning everything

He gets water for the both of you and either leaves if he has business or falls asleep

Nagito will do the same except

You guessed it:

✨self loathing✨

Then it becomes aftercare for him as he talks about how he doesn’t deserve you both and how your too good for him

You get the idea

Just pull him down and either cuddle him or kiss him to shut him up

Overall:

It’s a fight for who’s the man in the relationship with Fuyuhiko and Nagito

If your a man or not, doesn’t matter

They see you as someone they want to love and protect

But no matter what, this relationship is about cooperation and self love seriously Nagito

I hope this was good! If you wanted something specific about the relationship please request again. I’d be happy to write some more about them!

#danganronpa #danganronpa goodbye despair #nagito x reader #nagito komaeda #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #fuyuhiko x reader #kuzukoma #poly ship

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