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lustlovehart · 1 month

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Caught In Her Web

A/n: I love women

Summary: [Yandere] Dinner never seems to go right with Kafka

Warnings: Toxic date, memory erasure, unwanted touching, unconscious kiss

———

Her gloved fingers tap against the wooden table, every sound only increasing the tension through the room.

"Hm? Oh, don't look at me like that, I'm not gonna eat you dear."

At this rate, you wouldn't doubt if she did take a bite out of you.

"Kafka, quit this, what do you need from me this time?"

"Don't be so heartless [Name], maybe I just wanted to have dinner with my favorite person through the universe's."

"Cut it out."

"I'm not messing with you," her leather covered hands slowly make their way into your own, both palms caging your own in hers as she makes heavy contact into your soul. "Let's just eat shall we?"

You don't reply, only looking hesitantly at your hand covered by her malice.

You knew of the existence of scripts, she never hid information from you. Whatever information she did withhold probably would’ve been stuff you wouldn’t wanna know anyway.

The food laid between you two, the steam floating off it being very visible, yet Kafkas eyes completely overshadow them, rather than being drawn to the appetizers your focus is entirely on her, you don't look into her eyes, but just staring at her gloved hands is enough.

She has that effect on people you assume.

Her left hand plays with your arm, the digits of her limb playful crawling up your skin until they catch onto your chin, forcing you to finally look at her.

"You know darling, it's common coutersy to look at someone when you talk to them is it not?"

"I'm not gonna look at you."

Her fingers quickly release you from her hold, a playful 'hm' leaving her lips as she takes a fork and, somehow, makes stabbing a steak look both violent and elegant at the same time.

"Fine, be that way, the least you could do is let me feed you."

"I doubt you'd give me a choice."

"Hm, you're smart, good," the knife cuts through the meat, her utensil slowly lifting it to your mouth, her lips telling you to say 'ahh'. "Be careful dear, it's hot."

You don't give her the satisfaction of listening to her, despite the heat of the food radiating off of it, you don't blow. You'd rather burn your tongue than make this criminal happy with you.

You were right, your mouth is in so much pain. You try to keep your face neutral, but you can't help letting a little of the pain escape.

"See, I told you it was hot. I just praised you too."

You swallowed, it hurt like hell, but you swallowed. You're sure if it wasn't boiling it would've been delicious, but what's done is done.

"Try to at least enjoy our dinner, this will be the last time I see you for a while"

"Hm, maybe you're right, that does sound like something to celebrate."

"Oh, so you're only witty when it comes to remarks against me?"

"Was that not obvious?"

"You wound me [Name]" she looked down at the food again, instead of giving you more she only sighs and pushes the plate to the side. "Seems the dinner plans fell through. That's okay, Elio saw it coming."

"So even your 'heartfelt' dinner was apart of the script."

"Not all of it, we were just meant to sit at table filled with food, that wasn't apart of the plan."

"So you decided toying with me would be funner?"

"Playing with anyone is enjoyable to me, it's just nicer when it's you." She smiles after her words. Just that, a closed lip smile at you.

You look at the clock she had set up, it felt more like a countdown than a way to keep track of time. 3 hours left, that's too long for you.

"What, so you added your flirtations into this dinner?"

The more you think, 3 hours left till what?

"Hm, I did, is there problem? I don't think I hide my liking towards you."

Your brain can't remember what it was you were waiting for. It's like the memory of what waited for you at the end wasn't there anymore.

"You don't, but I wish you did."

Keep... Date... As long... Possible...

She leans across the table, her lips ghosting over your earlobe, a deep laugh escaping from her throat.

"How will I express my adoration for you then?" Her whisper came out teasing, yet if you looked past that, you can hear her underlying annoyance slip through the cracks. "Perhaps lock you in a golden cage like an innocent bird? Or should I do like a spider and trap you in my web." You sit still, not daring to move.

"Jokes of course, though, I would like for you to stay with me."

Feint words of broken memories invade your head, beating like some painful headache.

"Once this is over, you'll be different. It's sad I won't be able to keep the [Name] I cherish, but it's the price we have to pay for the script. These last moments will be what I'll have left of you, so I hope we can enjoy it together.

The whispers felt familiar, like you've been through it before. Spirit Whsiperer...

"Now, can we please enjoy this last meal of peace before it changes ?"

Your hands grab onto her as you push her to her side of the table. Your breaths were heavy once you remembered the situation the damned clock. Looking back at the time, how could time go by so quickly?

1 hour left.

"Don't try using that shit on me Kafka. It was 3 hours left 10 minutes ago how the hell could that be."

"That's the [Name] I like to see." She doesn't answer you, not a single question. While you frantically shake her.

"I told you myelf, I really do enjoy messing with you." Her hands aren't gloved anymore. The leather long being discarded, her fingers slowly reach up to your cheek pulling you closer to her face.

Her fingers are cold, like a corpse. You don't shiver though. Her touch is the most undisturbing part about her. It's what makes her so horrifying.

"Times up dear." Her thumb ghosts over your lips, gently placing her digit on you. She stand up from her seat, being eye to eye to yourself, her other hand placing itself on your waist, seemingly pulling you closer.

"Boom."

Your vision blacks as your head falls forward, the last thing you remember being the soft feeling of your face resting on her shoulder. Ice cold fingers are left stroking your head as the sound of a door opens.

"At the end of the day," Though you're out cold, deep down she wishes you can feel the way her freezing lips place a chaste kiss on your own. "I'm a selfish woman."

------

A dim light is all your blurred vision can see, the sound of a feint hum ringing through the empty space as well. Your head is rested on what feels to be someone's thighs, whoever it is must be the one rubbing circles into your chest, more specifically, the area where a heart would be.

It's not beating. Your hearts not working.

"You're awake." Your eyes clear as you look up at the woman smiling from above. She's beautiful.

She's familar.

"Do you remember me?"

"..."

She waits.

"Do you like me?"

“I…”

She doesn’t say anymore, only tracing patterns into your skin as she waits, that unwavering smile still on her face. The lights grow darker. You don’t hear a throbbing in your ears, something someone with a heart would hear in distress. You don’t have that anymore. Well, maybe not anymore, you can’t remember if you ever did have one.

“Who are you?”

——

#hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader #yandere hsr #kafka x reader #yandere honkai star rail #yandere kafka #self insert #vesperwrites #sapphic #wlw x reader

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cuubism · 4 months

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been wanting to write a sort of grey-ace character first time for a while now, so here it is with dream and hob from the silly cafe universe. tackling grey-asexuality can be a tricky prospect as it has the possibility of falling into a "you just haven't met the right person yet" asexual erasure stereotype, but uninformed black and white judgements will exist in the world anyway regardless of whether we explore shades of grey. so here it is anyway, grey-ace dream. [rated E]

Dream thought he would wait, be more patient, but it only took a few dates before he was following Hob home. Perhaps that already counted as waiting. He never knew what the timeline of these things was "supposed" to be.

But he knew he liked being with Hob. He liked when Hob held his hand, or hugged him. He discovered that Hob could easily tolerate his silent spells, often so annoying to others, by filling them with his own chatter. It was soothing to listen to him talk. He discovered that as easygoing as he usually seemed, Hob could be quite intense, too. On their third date, someone had hit on Dream rather aggressively at a bar—an unusual occurrence he'd had no idea how to react to—and Hob had told them not quite politely to shove off. This had made Dream feel all sorts of things.

Perhaps that was why he went home with Hob after their next date. He expected they would just fall into bed, wasn't that how these things usually went, at least in stories? But instead Hob cooked him dinner. And Dream learned that Hob was an excellent cook; truly, it seemed, his only weakness was coffee. Which called into question why he worked at a cafe of all places, but Dream wasn't about to complain when it was what had brought them together.

Hob fed him dinner, and a glass of very good wine, thus proving that his sommelier abilities were also up to par, and Dream might have been planning the rest of their lives in his mind. It was fine if Hob couldn’t make coffee, Dream could make the coffee, if only Hob would keep making dinner for him, and letting him stay in his cozy apartment, and holding his hand on top of the table.

He watched Hob’s hands as he poured more wine. Hob had very nice hands; Dream knew what they felt like, now, holding his, and cradling his jaw, and carding through his hair as they kissed. Hob’s shirt looked very soft, and clung appealingly to his shoulders. Dream found his gaze drawn to Hob’s forearms, where he’d rolled up his sleeves.

It was hard to focus on the conversation, but he managed. Afterwards they wound up on the couch, sitting just close enough to be touching, and Dream was not sure what he was supposed to do. He had figured Hob had brought them back to his home because he wanted to have sex. That was a common expectation, was it not? Dream was not very good at predicting these things. Perhaps he was meant to initiate?

This was often the point where his past attempts at dating had gone sideways. Trying to intuit what he was meant to do usually did not go well for Dream. Normally whatever he did was, somehow, wrong.

“Dream?”

Dream shook himself back to the present. Hob was looking at him, head tilted, a slanted smile on his face. “You looked like you were thinking about something very deeply,” Hob said, a question in it.

He had draped his arm across the back of the couch behind Dream’s shoulders, and started trailing his fingertips up and down the back of Dream’s neck. It made Dream’s skin prickle pleasantly. Perhaps… it didn’t matter what he was ‘meant’ to do? And only whether he wanted to do it?

He was not sure he had ever truly wanted to before. Not the way that he did with Hob.

He leaned into Hob’s side, into the circle of his hold, and kissed him.

Hob made a low sound of surprise, but kissed him back, wrapping his arm around Dream’s shoulders to pull him closer. As always, it was so lovely to kiss him. There was something comforting about it, which Dream had never felt when kissing before, and more than that, it sparked something in him. That feeling, it was new. When Hob kissed him, when Hob ran a hand through his hair, when Hob pulled him close with a hand around his waist—it made something in him go hot, something he hadn’t felt before. And... he wanted. Even if it was new, and unfamiliar.

He took a deep breath, and slid into Hob’s lap.

Hob took a sharp breath and braced him by the hips. Dream settled into his lap, resting his hands on Hob’s shoulders, a little shiver running through him. It was good, though, it felt good. He didn’t know exactly where it was going to go, but he wanted to find out.

“Well, hi, darling,” said Hob, a pleased smile growing on his face. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“You are horrible,” Dream told him, and Hob’s smile only deepened.

“You like me, though,” he said, ducking his head almost bashfully, and Dream kissed him, right above one eyebrow, overcome with fondness for him.

“I do,” he said. So much. So much that he felt things that were unruly and strange—but he wanted to feel them.

He tipped Hob’s face back up, thumbs hooked under his jaw, and kissed him. Hob hummed happily, sinking into the kiss. He slipped his hands under Dream’s shirt, fingertips pressing into his bare back, and Dream shuddered.

“Did you want to move things into the bedroom?” Hob murmured, lips brushing Dream’s. “Is that what that meant?”

Dream nodded, breathless, and then Hob was wrapping his arms around his thighs and picking him up. Dream squeaked as Hob stood up, holding on tight to the back of Hob’s neck, and Hob grinned at him. “You seemed to like it when I caught you.”

Dream had. Dream very much had. And he liked it now, Hob’s strong arms under his thighs, and how tightly they were pressed together. He felt all warm inside, like his body might set itself on fire in a flurry of a thousand sparks, and it was… scary. He hadn’t felt that way before, but he didn’t want it to stop. He wanted more.

“I did. I. Had wondered before if you would be able to pick me up,” he admitted, blushing, and Hob’s smile turned mischievous.

“Oh, yeah? I can do a lot more than that, love.”

“Like what?”

So Hob carried him into the bedroom. It didn’t seem very difficult for him, which made Dream’s stomach flip. When they reached his room, Hob tossed him on the bed. Dream landed with a gasp in the pillows.

“Like that,” Hob said, grinning. He tugged Dream’s shoes and socks off, and then his own, and Dream made grabby hands at him. Hob crawled up the bed after him, settling between his legs. His weight over Dream made him shiver pleasantly. He ran his hands up and down Hob’s arms, over his shirt, surprised by how much he truly wanted to touch him. And to have Hob touch him.

Hob kissed him deeply, then gazed down at him, his gaze heavy. Dream swallowed, throat dry. Hob stroked Dream’s hair. “You’re so pretty, you know.”

“Thank you,” said Dream, and Hob laughed. He kissed the corner of Dream’s mouth, then his cheek, little pecking kisses. He played with the hem of Dream’s shirt.

“Can I take your shirt off?”

Dream nodded, breathless, and Hob sat up enough that he could pull Dream’s shirt up and off over his head. He trailed his hands down Dream’s chest, over his stomach. Dream followed his touch, everything else fading to the background. He wished Hob would touch him all over. What a strange, scary, delightful feeling.

He tugged on Hob’s shirt, and Hob let him pull it off over his head. His chest was broad, and far hairier than Dream’s, and Dream stared, then laid his hands on Hob’s body, mesmerized.

“This is very flattering,” Hob said, humor in his voice, as Dream kept touching him. “What do you want, darling? Because I’d love to get my mouth on you.”

Dream’s attention was suddenly wrenched away from his examination of Hob’s chest by the fact that he was painfully hard. That Hob’s voice and words alone could do that—he hadn’t thought it was possible.

“Okay,” he said, voice tight.

Hob unbuttoned his jeans, and Dream lifted his hips so he could pull them off. Dream felt very exposed then, but Hob’s gaze on him was kind, and hot, as he looked Dream up and down. Dream reached for the waistband of Hob’s jeans—it suddenly felt very important that Hob be naked, too, if Dream was going to be. “Can you—?”

“Of course.” Hob slipped out of his own jeans, then sat before Dream on the bed again, only in his boxers, their legs brushing. Dream studied him, the strength of his thighs, of his hands, the weight of his arousal in his underwear. He had never gone this far with someone, wanted to go this far. He felt like he might combust. This was all so new, but he trusted Hob. He wanted to see where it would go.

Hob ran his hands up Dream’s legs, from his ankles, over his knees, up his thighs, thumbs brushing the crease where his thigh met his hip, and Dream shuddered, feeling heavy and warm and so very aware of everything around him. Hob was like a beacon, everything about him drew Dream’s eye, his presence so strong that everything in Dream wanted to go to him. Touch him, kiss him, lean on him, have Hob touch him. It was an overwhelming fire within him, consuming all sense.

“You’re so beautiful,” Hob said, voice a low rumble that Dream felt in his belly. “Tell me what you like, sweetheart?”

“I—” Dream didn’t know. He had rarely wanted any of it enough to consider it. He knew that he wanted Hob to touch him, but not much more detail than that.

“Wait, have you ever…?” Hob asked, suddenly unsure of himself, pulling his hands back. Dream did not want him to take his hands back, and briefly considered lying, saying, of course, of course I have, who hasn’t? But he didn’t want to lie to Hob. He shook his head.

“Shit.” Guilt settled on Hob’s features. He had nothing to feel bad for, nothing, Dream thought. “I didn’t mean to assume.”

“It is alright.” Dream huffed a laugh, but there was little humor in it. “It is a reasonable assumption, at our age, is it not?”

“Still. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

His mouth twisted in disappointment, and Dream took his hands, placed them back on his own legs. “You didn’t. I want to. If you’ll forgive my inexperience.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Dream.” Hob stroked his thumbs lightly over Dream’s legs, more a soothing motion now. “Nothing. You want to?”

“I do,” Dream said, still a bit shaken by the realization. “I never have because… I never wanted anybody. Not the way that I want you.”

“Oh.” Hob’s lips tipped back up into a half-smile. “Never fell for anybody else, then?”

“Mean,” Dream grumbled, and Hob laughed.

“That’s okay.” He seemed to be coming around to the situation now; he leaned forward again so he was almost in Dream’s lap, and murmured against his cheek, “Just means I get to make sure your first time is just as good as you deserve.”

“You are very sure of yourself,” Dream said, but curled his fingers around Hob’s hips, holding him close.

“I know what I’m good at,” Hob said.

“In that case I should probably inform you that you are terrible at making coffee,” Dream said, and Hob laughed, the sound loud so close to Dream’s ear. It made him smile.

“Wow,” Hob said. “I know, okay? I’m not usually in charge of it. Normally I just bake.”

Dream pulled back just far enough to see his face. “You… are not?”

Hob gave him a bashful smile. “Just wanted the chance to see you. Would have missed you if I was working in back.”

Dream stared at him, astonished—and touched, too. “I demand recompense for all the horrific coffee you forced me to consume.”

“It can be arranged,” Hob said. And kissed Dream again, his lips soft but sure. Knowing that Hob had been specifically engineering things to be able to see him, just as Dream had— it only made him like Hob more.

“Will you touch me?” he asked, and Hob groaned.

“Think I might die if I don’t.”

He eased Dream back to lie down against the pillows, then pulled off his underwear. Dream was breathing hard again now, lying naked under Hob’s hungry gaze. He hoped he wouldn’t faint, but it felt like a distinct possibility. At least Hob had proven that he wasn’t bothered by that, once before.

“I still want to get my mouth on you,” Hob murmured. “Is that okay?”

“Please.” Dream liked Hob’s mouth. He wanted Hob’s mouth on him. Had he ever felt that way before? He didn’t think so. But he imagined Hob taking him in his mouth and he wanted.

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” Hob said. “Since you walked into the cafe that first time, can you believe it? Sorry. Hope that doesn’t creep you out.”

The thought of Hob imagining this while talking to him over the counter only made Dream feel hotter inside. “I like when you think about me.”

“And I like thinking about you.” He kissed the tip of Dream’s cock, and Dream gasped. “And being with you even more.”

He took Dream in his mouth then, and Dream lost all ability to respond to him. Hob’s mouth was so much. All-encompassing wet heat, the flat pressure of his tongue, and then Hob bobbed his head and took him deeper and Dream moaned, startling himself with the sound. He flailed, and found Hob’s hair, holding onto it for balance, and Hob hummed his approval.

Hob felt so good. Dream did not know how he was supposed to survive it. Perhaps Hob wouldn’t mind if he didn’t. Perhaps he’d take it as a compliment. Dream felt much like how he had right before he’d fainted on Hob at the cafe, a rush of pleasant lightness at the thought that Hob was paying attention to him and wanting him, but he didn’t faint this time. He just fell into the pleasure of Hob’s touch.

He lost himself for a while, to Hob’s tongue, the pressure of his lips, his skillful pacing that kept Dream struggling to find where the edge was. He felt he was supposed to be participating more actively but he could not gather himself together enough to do more than play with Hob’s hair, to touch his jaw and throat and slick lips as if in a dream. He felt out of control, and Dream normally hated feeling out of control, but Hob felt so good that it was worth it.

“Hob,” he cried, as Hob dragged his tongue over him in a way he’d clearly learned would get a particular reaction. Dream’s hips twitched up, thrust automatically into Hob’s waiting mouth, and he rushed to apologize—but Hob moaned. The rumble of his voice was too much for Dream, who already felt held on a razor’s edge of control. The weight that had been building and building in his belly and thighs snapped in a rush and he came in Hob’s mouth, cock bumping the back of his throat. Flushed and overheated, he tugged on his own hair. It cut through the bright overwhelm of being touched.

Breathing hard, he looked down at Hob, who pulled off him slowly, and then swallowed. Dream swallowed, too, a shaky echo of the motion, and pet Hob’s hair, twining the long strands between his fingers.

“Sorry,” he whispered. “I did not warn you.”

Hob slanted a smile at him. “It’s okay. I knew what I was getting into giving a blowjob to someone who’d never done it before. Besides—” he kissed the crook of Dream’s hip, tongue darting out to wet the skin “—I wanted to taste you.”

Hob was too much for him. He made Dream feel so overwhelmed, but in a good way, such a good way. Hob crawled up Dream’s body to kiss him, arms bracketing Dream’s head, and Dream let the heat of Hob's mouth, and the pleasant wake of orgasm wash over him.

"Good?" Hob murmured, and Dream nodded. Good, yes, so good. He pulled Hob closer so all of Hob’s body was pressed to his, Hob’s weight over him. There was so much skin like this, so much heat, Hob’s hair brushing his stomach and the strong planes of his back under Dream’s hands. Hob groaned as his erection ground into the crook of Dream’s hip, and Dream needed, suddenly needed to see him come, too. He wanted to see Hob fall apart. He wanted to be the one who made it happen.

He tugged on Hob’s boxers, and Hob budged up enough that together they were able to get them off. Then Dream pulled him back in, wrapped a leg around the back of Hob’s thigh, chasing skin touch. Hob kissed his throat, grinding his cock against Dream’s sharp hipbone, the flat muscles of his belly. An image flashed through Dream’s mind of Hob moving like that but in him and he was startled by how fiercely he wanted it.

It was joyful, too, to hold Hob close to him and feel his pleasure. Hob did not have to be inside him for Dream to feel that he had never been so close to another person before. It was fascinating and beautiful, the mess of Hob’s lips on his skin, the glide of precome, the moving warmth of Hob’s body.

He reached between them and took Hob in hand. Hob stuttered at the touch, then groaned. “Fuck, your hands.”

“Have you been thinking about them?” Dream asked. A thrill ran through him as Hob nodded. Dream would not have expected himself to want to, to be able to try to stoke Hob’s pleasure through words, this was all so new, but— “Did you imagine me touching you like this?” He twisted his grip around Hob, and Hob shuddered. “My hand wrapped around your cock?”

It did not feel awkward as Dream would have expected. Unlike with the stressful repartee of public conversation, he only had to focus on Hob’s reactions, and how he could use his words to turn Hob’s imagination, like he did with his stories. Hob was not even looking at him as he spoke, but he was focusing on him, Dream could tell.

He let Hob thrust into his hand, encouraging him on with his leg still wrapped around the back of his thigh, dragged his other hand through Hob’s hair, and murmured, “Did you know that I rarely fantasize about anyone, but once I met you I could not stop thinking about you touching me?”

“Dream.”

“You’re so beautiful,” he praised—Hob was, he was beautiful to Dream, he was an explanation of something Dream had always wanted to understand—and Hob whined. Dream caressed the back of his neck, down his spine. “I want to see you come.”

And Hob did, gasping against Dream’s throat and spilling into his hand. It thrilled Dream more than his own pleasure, to feel Hob come for him. Hob’s desire for him, and how he responded to Dream’s voice.

“Fuck, Dream.” Hob’s weight was heavy on him now, his breath hot against Dream’s throat. “I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Nor I,” Dream admitted, and Hob chuckled.

“You’ll be a monster now that you’ve got started,” he said. They lay there like that for a few heartbeats, catching their breath, Dream running his fingers through Hob's hair. Then Hob pushed himself up on his elbows to look at him, hair falling into his eyes, a fond look on his face. “So. First time. Did you enjoy yourself?”

It was harder to speak again with Hob looking directly at him, but Hob’s look on him was kind, so Dream persisted. “I did,” he said, and Hob’s smile deepened, crinkling the corners of his eyes. “And it is not so often that I enjoy something that is new to me.”

Hob kissed him lightly on the lips. “I'm so glad, love. That's what I wanted for you.”

He pet Dream’s hair. The touch felt so nice. “I…” Dream started, because he did have something more he wanted to say to Hob, hard though it sometimes was to speak. Hob looked at him expectantly, waiting. “I did not know what it meant to want this— or to want someone until I wanted you,” Dream admitted. “And… it was not something that I needed. But now that I have it, I do want it, and I want to explore more. With you.”

Hob’s smile softened. "Seeing you enjoy yourself was better than I could have hoped for. Happiness is so gorgeous on you. So don't hesitate to tell me what you're thinking of." He kissed Dream’s cheek, and by the corner of his eye. “There’s a lot I want to explore with you."

There was a low burn of heat in his words, and Dream’s body prickled in expectation. So strange, the way that he responded to Hob, without intention or control, and it was so much stronger now that he knew what Hob’s hands, and mouth, on him felt like. There was so much to discover. He thought of what he had imagined, Hob moving within him, but didn't speak that desire yet. He did not think he was yet ready to bring that from imagination to reality. But someday.

Hob fetched a damp towel to clean them up, then pulled Dream close to him again. It was very warm, like that, their legs tangled, Dream’s head pillowed on Hob’s arm. He had never lain in bed naked with another person before. He found that he liked it. At least with Hob.

“Thank you,” he said, lips pressed to Hob’s shoulder.

“Hm?”

“I do not… often know what I am doing, in these situations,” Dream said. “But I never feel like I am doing it wrong, when I am with you.”

Hob kissed the top of his head. “You’re not doing it wrong,” he said. “You’re perfect.”

“That is objectively untrue, but thank you.”

Hob laughed, and held him close, arms wrapped around him. Dream felt encompassed, grounded. It was a good feeling. Hob was a good feeling. One that Dream certainly intended to hold onto.

He tucked his head in against Hob’s chest, and, smiling, let the dreams he had been spinning at dinner, of Hob cooking for him, of staying, fill his mind again. Only now, there were a few other things included in those dreams, too.

#hob's trying to be normal about it so it doesnt have to feel like a huge deal for dream #but inside i think he's 5 trillion exclamation points in a row. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! about it all #meanwhile dream accidentally discovered hob's praise kink and now is like New Toy! New Toy! New Toy!#dreamling #dream of the endless #hob gadling #my writing #last fic of the year baby #i've obsessed over this for long enough i must release it

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evamaury · 2 months

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RANT!!

i hate that the one time aro/ace stuff is being recognized as an orientation is to excuse aro/ace erasure by saying that aroace ppl can still date and what not

like… yeah we can… but the character is clearly repulsed 😭 whenever something is implied for a characters sexuality, everyone immediately says it’s canon unless the implication is that the character is aromantic/ asexual repulsed istg

usually ppl say that talking abt this sorta stuff is pointless because the fandom will just do whatever they want anyway, and you’re right, but that doesn’t mean that i’m not allowed to feel upset?? like let me speak my truth girl

i can literally go on a whole tangent with how i feel abt everything just in relation to this. aro/ace ppl have had such bad and minimal representation for like ever so it just feels so invalidating seeing a once in a life time occurrence of an aro/ace character being a thing just to be dwindled down into an allonormative character all under the guise of “aro/ace ppl can still date / have sex!” like, obviously, but you’re missing the point.

tbh, i feel like we just need more aro/ace repulsed characters in general just because romantic and sexual relationships are so normalized and just EVERYWHERE.

like i would love demi, grey, aego characters and so on but the world is just not ready for characters lacking/ not feeling romance and sexual feelings yet so baby steps i suppose

also before anyone comes at me for “invalidating” aspec ppl im literally asexual and cupioromantic myself sooo 🤓

#aromantic #asexual #aroace #alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor aroace #cupioromantic

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r0ttenhearts · 10 months

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cold tea

sypnosis: after scaramouche’s erasure from irminsul, something in him changes

angst, arguments

“here scara, just how you like it.” scara’s pale, slender fingers hold onto the mug tenderly, giving you a rare smile as he drinks the bitter liquid.

“you always do know how to make it perfectly, (y/n).”

you smile as you hug his shoulders, pressing a quick kiss to the side of his head. “well of course, my dear. i have to know these things.” “that’s what i love about you.”

it seemed like so long ago since you had moments like that with him. if you made him a cup of tea like that now you’d only be met with a bitter glare before he’d leave the table.

it all changed after he erased himself from irminsul. luckily, you still remembered him, but you almost wished you hadn’t.

sure, scaramouche before he erased himself wasn’t always pleasant. but he had a soft spot for you and only you, a gentle kindness that was hidden behind closed doors. now it seemed like his unwavering anger was the only thing in your shared home.

the nights he’d spend next to you were now long gone, you knew he’d taken up the traveler on her offer to travel teyvat together. a part of you felt happy for him, happy he had finally made a place for himself to belong, the other half felt bitter as you remembered he’d rather be around her than you.

that gnawing thought chewed through you the longer the time you spend apart. it couldn’t be true right? it was just your overthinking! of course he still loved you, you were with him through everything. from his time as a harbinger, to the time he became a wanderer.

but.. he’d never been gone this long. it had been a month since he departed with that blonde haired traveler. your shared home now felt like it was never shared.

that was until you saw him sitting at the table, sipping on a dark liquid as he cradled the cup in his hands. his eyes seemed lighter as he drank from the cup, his eyes flickering to yours.

“oh, you’re back.”

you nodded, smiling softly before sitting in front of him. your heart clenched, watching him hold his cup so tenderly. you had missed this view so much.

“we need to talk (y/n).”

you nod, taking his hand gently and squeezing it. “i think that’s been long overdue, don’t you agree? it’s been so long since—”

“we need to end whatever this is. i’m in love with the traveler, i won’t continue this and be unfaithful to her.”

your smile dropped, eyes widening at his words. he was in love with the traveler? this was over? no, it can’t be. it was only a month! a month was all it took for him to fall out of love?

“w-what..? hold on a second, scara. we have to talk about this. you can’t just decide to end it like this.”

scaramouche scoffed, ripping his hand out of your grip, his cup now forgotten on the table as he stood. that familiar smirk was on his face, that smirk he always held before he would do something unreasonably cruel.

“there’s nothing to talk about, (y/n). to be quite honest with you, i got bored of you. the way you do things, just everything about you disgusts me.”

he laughs loudly, moving his hands around the room. “i mean just look at this shit! do you think i want to fucking live like this? playing housewife to your delusions? you know, you’re so much worse than you used to be. that’s why i left. i never thought about you while i was gone, not once. not until lumine brought you up to me did i remember your putrid existence.”

tears filled your eyes, you silently wept by the end of his monologue. “then why did you stay for so long?” you quietly asked, your voice cracking.

“because i like taking my anger out on you.” he grinned.

he sighed dramatically at your tears, mimicking the way you struggled to breath at the realization that it was all over.

“go cry to someone else, i’m out of here. don’t bother showing your face outside of here. i’ll make you regret it.” with a slam of your front door, it was the end to a six year relationship.

the months after that we’re some of the worst months of your life. every time you made your way to the city you’d see scaramouche there, hanging with lumine or nahida. he’d always find ways to torment you. tripping you under stalls, blowing wind in your direction when it was storming and you attempted to find shelter, blowing your birthday cake out of collei’s hands so it’d smear all of your face, his cackle being the only thing you could hear as collei attempted to comfort you and wipe the cake off of your face.

your tears eventually won your forest friends over, so they agreed to let you stay in the village with collei giving you weekly groceries and news about what was going on. her sad smile when she’d tell you about the festivals and events that tighnari and cyno would made you feel guiltier about the whole ordeal. but you were terrified. someone like scaramouche wouldn’t back down for no reason. his cruelty knew no limits, and that now applied to you.

so why was he here now? his fingers around your wrist a mere 3 years later. you knew it was him by the way his fingers felt, a warmth you had long forgotten about since his time with lumine. “(y/n).. please. i know that’s you , nahida told me you were still here. i just want to talk, i don’t mean any harm to you.”

you shook your head, refusing to meet his gaze as you tried to get away from his grip. the fruits and basket you held now forgotten about on the floor next to you. “please.. leave me alone, scara. i don’t want to talk to you or even less see you.”

scaramouche takes you by the hand, dragging you along to an alleyway, his large hat covering his face as he looks down, your hands being gripped in his.

“let me talk first, okay? then you can decide if you still hate my guts or whatever it is you might feel for me.”

not like he gave you much of a choice in the matter, anyway. you slightly nod, seeing his shoulder slump, his grip on your hands lessening.

“it’s just— it’s been so difficult being alone. i was abandoned again, how ironic. traveler left me once she found her twin.. she had no use for me anymore so she discarded of me like the doll i am. in the time i spent after her betrayal i realized something.. i realized i only ever felt that same happiness with you. you never used or discarded me like she did.

you loved me the way i was, even when i was in the fatui, and after. your love for me never wavered. and i regret throwing that love away so very much. i miss the tea you used to make me, the way you’d take care of me after a long day of battles. i miss you (y/n). please, if you can find the forgiveness in your heart, id like to have a relationship with you again.”

scaramouche looks up at you from under his hat. his eyes were glossy, cheeks tinted with pink as he stared into your eyes longingly, with hope. he looked the same way he did when he had breakdowns over his mother back in inazuma, his loud cries and pleads for answers as to why he was abandoned. why he was so unlovable. now he held the same state for you, it seemed almost ironic by the way he looked at you.

you couldn’t hide your scoff, stepping away from him. “seriously, scara? that’s what you have to say to me after all of these years? like nothing happened you just want me to forgive you. like you didn’t spent a year tormenting me with what i lost with you. i don’t even feel sorry for you in all honesty. i don’t forgive you, scara. and i never will.”

you turned to leave before he stepped forward, grabbing your hand with tears in his eyes. “please..!” you glared at him, shaking him off of you as you left in that alleyway. the same way he left you alone at that table that night.

taglist: @samarill @sakiimeo @astrolomona @dearsumire @saeism @shoheartluv @0kauy

#genshin angst #genshin x reader #genshin x reader angst #wanderer angst #wanderer x reader #scaramouche angst #scara x y/n #scaramouche x you #scara x reader #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche x reader angst #scaramouche x y/n

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nyoomiin · 28 days

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roommates: part five.

your new roommate is... odd, and recently, so are your dreams. still, despite the secrecy, the mystery, and his ice cold exterior, you have the feeling you'd waltz right into love with him. (maybe you already have before.)

pairing. scaramouche x gn!reader

tags. no warnings, slice of life, fluff, slowburn, friends to lovers, reincarnation au, post irminsul erasure

prev. masterlist. next.

Breeze in the air, the sun on your face. A hand on your shoulder, and the whisper of your name. You turn around.

“Ah, it's you!” you say with delight. The word Kabukimono almost slips from your lips, but you hold it back, for it wasn't very much polite to address your dear customer that way. You knew that nickname of his had been circulating around town ever since his arrival, and while he never made any move to stop it, you've decided to avoid using that title entirely.

Your eyes flicker towards his outfit. He's wearing the things you made, you realise, pride bubbling in your gut. “How are the clothes? They look good on you — they make you look like an angel, y'know.”

He flushes. Pink creeps from his ears all the way down his neck, and why, wasn't that just the most adorable thing you've seen all day?

“Thank you,” he mutters bashfully, gaze trained on the ground. “They're very comfortable.”

He looked just like a doll, you find yourself thinking. You blink awake. Wait, who did? The name was right there, right on the tip of your tongue.

Ki… no…?

No, it definitely wasn't kimono.

Ka…

“Kabukimono!” you breathe out, jolting upright.

Was it an Inazuman name? It definitely sounded like one… How odd. Your dreams are certainly something.

“You’re back! How was your day?” you greet him cheerfully upon his return to the apartment. “I bought takeout for dinner, it’s on the table if you’re hungry.”

“No thanks.”

Oh well. Another day, then. You shrug, turning to leave. You had gotten some of your favourite dishes, and if he wasn’t going to have them, you sure as hell were. Maybe —

“Wait.”

You stop in your tracks, whipping back around much faster than you’d like to admit you did. What could he possibly have to say?

Silently, he stares at you, frowning ever so slightly. You return his gaze apprehensively, wondering if you should say something. Honestly, the silence was getting pretty awkward… You hold back a nervous laugh.

A second passes, then two.

“Er,” you say.

He harrumphs, taking something out of his pocket and shoving it into your hands. “This is only in return for before,” he hisses. “Don’t get the wrong idea.”

And he’s brushing past you before you even have the time to react, retreating to his room and locking the door with a decisive click.

“What the…”

You look down at the thing in your hands, pleasantly surprised. It’s an adorable little wooden carving of a bunny, nothing more than a paper weight and the kind you’d get from a gift shop — but it was the thought that counted, wasn’t it?

The grin that spreads across your face is utterly infectious.

(The next morning, you catch him before he leaves. Which is odd, for you usually only rise after dawn.

“The bunny is so cute,” you gush. “Thank you, I love it.”

Pride settles in his heart. Of course you’d love it. After all, it was he who picked it out for you — and no one had known you better than him, once upon a time.

“Is that all you held me back for?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. Was there a need to get up this early just for that?

You falter, eyes flickering to and from. “Well — I still haven’t learnt your name.”

“Call me whatever you like,” he says simply. “Go ahead, let me see what you can come up with.”

He knows that Nahida had taken a liking to that godforsaken nickname, and the Traveller had taken to calling him Wanderer. He wonders what you’d pick.

“C’mon now, you know my name. I wanna know yours!”

Would you believe him if he said that he no longer had a name? The villagers of Tataratsuna had called him the Kabukimono, and the Fatui had called him the Balladeer. The name he had bestowed upon himself out of spite had been Scaramouche, and before all of that, before all those names, he was simply the puppet. He swallows, and again, he can hear his heart in his ears.

Well, there was that one name…

Your gaze is heavy on his figure, and he knows you wouldn’t take anything but a name for an answer.

“Kunikuzushi,” he says roughly, the familiar word foreign on his lips,

“My name is Kunikuzushi.”)

taglist. (send an ask to be added.)

@franaby @dragontammerz @ainnofinway @sketcheeee @briluvspnk @bunniicantsleep @featuredtofu @tragedy-of-commons @parkjayssi @xiaosantenna @idontevenknow129 @bfajax

#—stellaronhvnters.#scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin #genshin impact #scaramouche #LESSSGOOOOO

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differenteagletragedy · 5 months

Text

Our Life headcannons

-- Cove has at least one child who is autistic and nonverbal. He becomes a master at communicating with this baby, and whenever they are able to use their words he absolutely loses his mind. The first time he hears an "I love you"? Crying, screaming, flat on the ground, bawling his eyes out. Let someone in public try to make any kind of remark if the kid has a meltdown. They will not survive.

-- Derek asked you to prom "as friends." He asked you what you were wearing so his tux could match you, and he got you a corsage too, "as friends." Did it seem kind of like a date? Of course it did, he'd had a crush on you for years. But he was very insistent on the "as friends" part and even if you had a crush on him too, it kind of made you think he couldn't ever see you that way at all.

-- Going to watch a movie with Baxter? Lol, no you're not. Boy runs his mouth trying to be cute and you can never follow the plot because he's sitting beside you with that little smirk, trying to make you laugh and look all adorable. If you really want to see something, leave him home or at least learn how to tune him out -- even if you do he'll keep going.

-- Cove doesn't like to drink but when he does he will not. Shut. Up. He's not like Movie Baxter, he just keeps saying whatever comes to mind, no filter. No real memory on how to properly structure sentences either. He just really needs you to know literally every single thought that pops into his head so please just listen to him, hey, are you listening?

-- Do you want a dog? You better if you end up with Derek, because y'all are getting a dog. It doesn't matter what kind it is, he'll be taking that dog on runs with him, he'll be doing research to get it the best kind of food and to figure out what kind of environment it thrives in. Did he just get another subscription box for the dog even though he already gets one? Yup. That's his dog.

-- Do you like makeup? Cool, Baxter likes you to put makeup on him too, thanks. Not to go out, that's not really his thing, but it's a nice relaxing activity to do at home. He gets you all close to him (once you get back together he's not gonna let you go lol), and he gets to feel pretty. Don't skimp on the mascara, he likes his lashes, and be sure to play up his best features. Maybe try a dark lipstick this time, he'd like to see how that looks. And when you're done having fun, you better get to thoroughly removing everything and then following up with his skincare routine.

-- Sorry, let's double up on Baxter while we're here -- do you have a skin routine too? Because that's a shared interest and he's gonna want to talk about it. What's your favorite cleanser? Do you want to do face masks together? There's this new moisturizer he's interested in that's stupid expensive but he still wants to try it, want to split it? You share a Sephora rewards account so you can get more points. Oops, you accidentally put on too much of your lip mask and your lips are all goofy -- just give him a kiss, he hasn't put his on yet. It's weird how much I could go on about this.

-- You can also put makeup on Cove, but maybe stick to powders so he can rinse it all off easy after. And you can do whatever to Derek, he doesn't care, he's just happy to be there.

-- Everybody makes a big deal about Baxter's dancing, but this is actually another case of Derek Erasure, because he can do stuff too. His dad taught him and his brothers how to properly dance with a partner, and he was too shy to do it if you took him to the Summer Soiree, but if you end up with him? He can hold his own for sure.

-- If Cove doesn't end up with you, he ends up with Xavier. That's it. That's how it goes.

-- Not one of the main boys, but if you and Cove have babies then Cliff absolutely thrives on his GILF status. He tells everyone that he's a grandfather, literally every single person, and he's def proud of Cove and loves his grandbaby to bits, but also, like, look at him. Crazy hot grandpa, right?

#cove holden #derek suarez #baxter ward #our life beginnings and always #our life #olba #olba cove #olba derek #olba baxter #our life headcannons #olba mc #cove holden x mc #derek suarez x mc #baxter ward x mc #grandpa cliff

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freelancearsonist · 15 days

Text

el chico del apartamento 512

➔ Frankie Morales x gn!Reader - 1.6k

➔ There's a rumor going around your building about the resident of apartment 512, and you're eager to investigate.

➔ Rated PG-13 for allusions to sex but otherwise just some plain old fluff and fun. post movie canon wife and kid erasure sorry, takes place in colombia, both reader and frankie speak spanish and everything is translated.

➔ this is my entry for the Selena Drabble Challenge hosted by mi esposa @fhatbhabie <3 sorry i've been sitting on this forever hehe but i hope you enjoy

Frankie barely manages to pull himself out of the slump he’s in for the first year or so after the absolute disaster in the Andes.

He misses his family, misses his friends, misses his crew–his brothers. He tries to convince himself that it’s for the best, that it’s only a matter of time before those assholes who were in cahoots with Lorea come after him–that the people he loves will be safer and happier if he’s not around them when it happens. And most of the time he can block all that sadness and pain out by throwing his whole mind and body into the earnest construction job he picks up in this new town within this new country. But it catches up to him late at night in dreams and quiet whispers of intrusive thoughts; that he’s a coward for abandoning the ones that needed him most, that he could’ve done more to make that damned mission less of a disaster. That he could’ve come out of it rich and happy if he wasn’t such a fuck-up.

He wakes up screaming in the middle of the night, an ache so deep in his chest that it feels like he’s been shot. He clutches at his sternum and tries to catch his breath but he can’t. His body wracks with sobs and he knows he’ll never be okay again.

But somehow, he ends up okay anyway. Somehow, he falls back to sleep just to repeat the cycle the next day.

There’s a rumor going around amongst your neighbors that apartment 512 is haunted.

People hear things–weird things. Screaming, crying, banging–and always at the dead of night. And everyone swears up and down that they’ve never seen the guy who supposedly lives there. The people who say they have seen him get more dramatic with their descriptions every time–toweringly tall, shoulders that could stand up to a wrecking ball, hauntingly sad eyes and gaunt face. It’s like he’s a thing of legend–a story they tell their kids to make sure they behave. “Don’t run in the halls or the guy from apartment 512 will get you.”

You figure he’s probably just some guy who works long hours and likes to watch horror movies to unwind or something–not a monster or a ghost, just misunderstood. You haven’t seen the guy yourself, but you kinda like him anyway. The building’s certainly been a lot quieter since he moved in… well, everywhere except his own apartment, at least.

You find yourself keeping a more vigilant eye out, alert to any face in the building that doesn’t look familiar. It seems kinda silly to want to see someone you don’t know, but you’re a little nosy and a little more than curious. If there’s some truth to the rumors that have been going around by the people who claim to have seen him, you want to find out for yourself.

It’s a completely ordinary night when you notice an unfamiliar face in the mailroom, and you have to do a double take. This stranger is handsome–tall and dark with shaggy brown hair and an even shaggier patch of stubble across his jaw.

He’s just standing there, staring blankly at a row of mailboxes, looking so… foreboding. You approach slowly, cautiously; part of you thinks you should just walk away and let this man do whatever he’s doing. But there’s a large, louder part of you that approaches with curiosity. There’s just something about him that draws you in, that makes you put on your best smile and ask, “Señor? Necesitas ayuda?” (Do you need help, sir?)

He blinks slowly, heavily, and then dark brown eyes flicker towards you.

“Oh!” He clears his throat and it’s like he’s coming back from an out of body experience–the color returns to his face, his eyes lose that glassy sheen, and his posture loosens a bit. He looks friendly now, sheepish even. He wrings his big hands and shifts on his feet, as if he’s been caught at a vulnerable moment. “Lo siento, estaba en la nube.” (Sorry, I was spacing out.)

“Está bien,” you tell him with your most disarming smile. “Andas buscando algo?” (It’s okay. / Are you looking for something?)

“No, solo estoy recopilando mi correo,” he rumbles before flashing you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen in your life. (No, I’m just getting my mail.)

He fishes through his pockets and finds a small silver key–and then he inserts it into the box labeled “512”.

“Tú vives en el apartamento 512?” There’s a strange air of reverence in your voice despite trying to hide it. This is the guy everyone’s been talking about, and he doesn’t seem nearly as monstrous as everyone tried to make him sound. (You live in apartment 512?)

“Uhhh… sí?” He chuckles and looks over to you, and you can see the way his brow furrows at the look of shocked surprise on your face.

You realize you’re actually gaping open-mouthed at the poor guy, and you snap your mouth closed as soon as you see the little crease between his brows deepen. Not soon enough for it to go unnoticed, though–the corner of his mouth flickers up in a pseudo-smirk, and god he’s handsome.

“No hemos tenido la oportunidad de conocernos aún.” You look up at him and give your best, winning smile as you give him your name. There’s a strange, fluttery feeling in your stomach as his dark eyes meet yours–have you mentioned how handsome he is? (We haven’t had the chance to meet yet.)

“Mucho gusto,” he says with a smile. “Soy Frankie. Supongo que vives en el edificio también?” (Nice to meet you. / I’m Frankie. I’m guessing you live in the building too?)

“Oh, sí,” you say with a slight laugh. “No soy ningún tipo de acosador, vivo en el apartamento 526.” (Oh, yes. / I promise I’m not some kind of creep, I live in apartment 526.)

And then you catch his eyes dragging along your form, not even the least bit subtle, and you try your best to be nonchalant about the way you have to lean against the wall to avoid melting into a puddle on the mailroom floor; especially when you see those full lips of his curve into a smile, and you know he’s liking what he’s seeing.

“Nah, no creo que seas un acosador,” he hums–and there’s that damned smirk again. If you don’t get out of here you’re going to start drooling. (I don’t think you’re a creep.)

He grabs two letters from his mailbox, examines the envelopes, and then unceremoniously dumps them both into the trashcan in the corner with a mumbled, “Malditas estafas por correo.” (Damn junk mail.)

“Eso es lo único que recibo ahora también,” you tell him sympathetically. (That’s all I get anymore too.)

He brushes past you slightly as he moves to the door, and you get a whiff of distinctly woody cologne that makes your heart pick up a beat. You try to act normal and go to open your own mailbox, but he stops in the narrow doorway and leans against the jam to look at you.

“Te volveremos a ver aquí?” (Will I see you around again?)

You think the rumors about him were right, at least a little bit. He’s towering and imposing–he fills the entire doorway with ease. He’s firm and broad and sturdy and big. Maybe he would be intimidating to someone else, but all you can think about is climbing him like a tree.

“Sí. Puedes verme cuando tú quieras.” (You can see me whenever you want to.)

His eyes flicker indecisively for a moment, and then he draws his bottom lip between his teeth. “Qué tal viernes por la noche?” (What about Friday night?)

You try not to focus on how you want him to bite into you like that as you tell him, “Sí, eso sería perfecto.” (Yes, that would be perfect.)

“Perfecto. Te veré luego.” And then he flashes you that damned adorable boyish smile again before he retreats from the mailroom. You think he’s going to be trouble for you. (Perfect. I’ll see you then.)

The monthly building meeting is Saturday morning, and you’re glad to see Frankie’s decided to join in finally. Everyone throws curious looks his way as he walks through the room towards where you’re seated, but no one is curious or brave enough to ask who he is.

“Buenos días, querida,” he murmurs, discreetly ghosting a kiss against your cheek as he drops into the seat beside yours. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes as they trail over your outfit: the same one you wore to dinner last night, the same one you picked up off his bedroom floor this morning and shoved on hastily to get to this meeting in time. (Good morning, dear.)

Before you get a chance to respond, your neighbor from across the hall plunks down in the seat on your other side.

“Escuchaste ese ruido anoche?” She asks, sounding more amused than annoyed. (Did you hear that noise last night?)

“Qué ruido?” You ask with a raised brow. (What noise?)

She smirks with satisfaction, like she knows something you don’t. And then she looks pointedly between you and Frankie. “Suena como si nuestro fantasma en el apartamento 512 hubiera conseguido un socio para él.” (It sounds like our ghost in apartment 512 got himself a partner.)

You nearly choke on your own tongue, but Frankie just chuckles raspily and wraps an arm around your shoulders. He learned all about the rumors from you last night over dinner, and he thinks they’re hilarious. Besides, they’ll die out soon enough anyway–he’s never slept quite as peacefully as he did last night in your arms–if he doesn’t feed them a little bit. And if feeding the rumors means keeping you moaning and groaning the way he did last night, he can’t say he minds it one bit.

➔ beta: @shakespeareanwannabe; dividers: @saradika-graphics

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#frankie morales #frankie morales x reader #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales one shot #triple frontier #triple frontier fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #cece writes

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infinity-or-oblivion · 3 months

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so my loa batkids au has gained a little traction and i’ve hit a bit of a wall when it comes to writing new stuff so here’s an infodump to hopefully kill my writers block xoxoxo

first of all, jason. my forever number one blorbo. there’s a bit of a role reversal here because compared to all the rest of them, jason arguably had it the easiest. like we’re not going to compare traumas but an argument could be made. i honestly don’t remember if i mentioned it at all in the actual series yet, but the story i have for jason is that his childhood with willis and catherine was about the same as canon/commonly accepted fanon, meaning he was homeless around nine years old. however, instead of living on the streets for years, it was only a few months tops before meeting bruce.

and bruce! this is very fun to me, but basically i was thinking that if he didn’t raise dick, then why couldn’t this version of bruce be younger? so bruce becomes batman in his early twenties, which is also around the time that he visits the league of assassins for training and damian is conceived. (for a little more about that, here) and bruce is roughly 25 when he finds a tiny 9-10 year old jason trying to steal his tires. just imagine that it’s so fucking adorable and heartbreaking ANYWAYS bruce, despite being overall a disaster, doesn’t let a malnourished 10 year old out to fight crime right away, so there’s a couple years between when jason first meets bruce and when he becomes a child soldier yayyyy!!!! but legit, it makes a lot of difference to jason, because you know how canon!jason has some self-esteem issues (for lack of a better term) around bruce not really loving him/seeing him as a son because bruce started training him as robin (and as dick’s replacement) immediately after adopting him- you know that whole thing? yeah well here, despite jason actually offering to help bruce as a vigilante, this bruce is like hell nah you’re literally ten years old and the size of a six year old no way, and those few years in between really stick in jason’s mind as solid proof that bruce really does love him, not for what use he can provide, but simply as a son. also being the only child definitely helps with that

(that little detail of jason and bruce’s relationship is slightly inspired by minimum height requirement, which is absolute batfam gold btw)

okay so. slight pet peeve of mine is in aus where dick isn’t the first robin, the legacy is still called robin for whatever reason (lookin at you reverse robins aus) because!!!!! how dare you erase mary and john grayson’s importance!!!!! (look there’s more nuance to it than that i know but. to put it simply it feels like flying graysons erasure to me) so in this au, jason can’t possibly be called robin. the real robin has been missing for roughly seven years at this point

and listen. i tried to be creative and come up with something cool and original for jason’s vigilante name i really did, but apparently i used all of my naming talent on nighthawk (fucking love that name for dick it’s so fantastic) so we just have bluejay. womp womp

also! on my list of things to expand on: main timeline stephanie!!! i’ve had an absolute blast making myself cry while writing every heart sings a song, incomplete and those who wish to sing always find a song, but spoiler steph will always be my babygirl. and duke!!!! i have not written barely anything for duke in this universe but believe me i have some Thoughts. perhaps even Ideas. basically a lot of steph&duke and steph&babs and steph&duke&babs because i love my little underrated trio

also just more babs in general, because like. i’ve had so many tiny little snippets of cass and babs and their sweet little relationship just sitting in my notes for literal years now that i really just need to organize and expand into their own fic. and yet. i have not done that. but rest assured cass&babs are very very important to me

such is the curse of female fanfic writers: always destined to fixate more on the male poor little meow meows than the female bad bitches. seriously what the fuck is up with that guys i don’t get it why does this happen

#so yeah. infodump on my silly little au #and my silly i mean i make myself cry every time i write #league of assassins #batman #batfam #jason todd #bruce wayne #stephanie brown #duke thomas #barbara gordon #who else did i mention #don’t worry i have plenty of things to say about tim and damian and dick #yeah #my writing #i don’t remember if i have a writing tag lmao #it’s not like i use tumblr regularly anymore

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marvel-starwarsfangirl · 1 month

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Ep. 8 "Bad Territory" Review

This episode was honestly the fluff I needed after last week's tense and crazy two parter. There was the usual action and excitement, but I loved the amount of fluff we got. Omega is forever our little ray of sunshine. I feel a bad feeling that it's going to get much darker after this week so I'll take any fluff I can get.

As always, spoilers below

It was really cool to see Fennec again and it makes senes that out of all the bounty hunters, the boys would choose to seek her out. She was originally after Omega, but she's not needlessly cruel like Cad Bane. If Omega's life were truly in danger, I don't think Fennec would want to see her get hurt. Cad Bane wouldn't give a second thought about it. Speaking of the ending, I definitely think she was talking to Ventress or someone like Quinlan. After all, Ventress is a Force-wielder and could be connected to whatever Hemlock is doing.

Overall, I really liked the interactions between her, Hunter, and Wrecker. Their banter was great and the joke about the Batch being straight up broke had me cackling. Like yes, these 5 guys with a kid are clearly enjoying Space Greece or whatever the fandom calls it. They're not gonna be looking for jobs right now. I also enjoyed seeing the boys use their skills like Wrecker's demolitions knowledge again. It's been so, so long since we've seen the boys go on a classic mission. That's not a bad thing either to have an "adventure of the week" style episode. It was cool to see them back in action (you know, non lethally).

The environment looked great, Wrecker and Hunter throwing hands with gators was pretty epic, and the final fight with the other bounty hunter (?) was exciting. I'll admit, the antagonist's design was cool and it allowed from some fun fight choreography.

Shoutout to the Phee cameo btw! Love seeing her as always. I think she'll be back after the Pabu invasion or she'll be back in time for that event to happen. Crosshair not knowing who she or Fennec was though was pretty funny. He's missed so much. (Also, this is the first time we hear him call Echo by his name fun fact).

Of course, Crosshair and Omega were the standouts because their dynamic is just that good. They're finally getting Crosshair's hand addressed! And I'm so glad Hunter stepped up to make sure it got looked at. Hunter loves Crosshair despite the past and he will look out for him. As many of us thought already, Crosshair's tremors are psychosomatic. We don't what happened on Tantiss (aside from some vague details), but whatever it was, it was bad; real bad. Crosshair is afraid of talking about it because it hurts. His reactions to even thinking about it were heartbreaking.

My theory is that Hemlock did something that broke a part of his identity. Maybe the identity erasure almost worked. Maybe he had Crosshair kill someone during a trial session to see if the reconditioning worked. Whatever it was, it traumatized Crosshair (on top of everything else he went through). For Crosshair to move forward, he's going to have to confront his trauma. He'll need to accept what happened to him and learn that it doesn't define who he is now.

Omega is so gentle and patient with him; I absolutely love it. She doesn't push him nor does she just leave him to get trapped in his mind. Instead, she tries to teach him coping mechanisms. The way he trusts her is so good too. Crosshair doesn't know what to do, but here is sister whom he loves. She's never left his side since they were imprisoned together and she was the only one who really advocated for him back in season 1. This girl loves him and he loves her. The scene where she holds his hand because it won't stop trembling genuinely means so much to me. It's such a small gesture that means so much. I really do appreciate that the writers are taking their time to show Crosshair going through the healing process. His hand doesn't get magically fixed because he escaped Tantiss nor because he redeemed himself. He achieved that. Now, he needs to finish the rest of his journey. AZI even mentions that it could be permanent. Real life mental health issues don't disappear in one night nor do they go away permanently. It comes and goes and that's what Crosshair will have to do. He'll have to cope with his trauma and hopefully the tremor will steady over time.

Many have pointed it out, but I would love to see a scene with him and Echo. Echo understands Crosshair's plight as he too was held captive and subjected to horrific experiments. I hope we get a scene between them where Echo comforts him. It would be a nice moment between two characters who often don't interact much.

Aside from that, the animation and music were great as always. That last scene of Cross and Omega meditating while Pabu's sun begins to set is truly gorgeous and it might be my favorite landscape shot of the show. It's also reminiscent of Hunter and Crosshair together on Barton IV. I am truly so happy to see Crosshair finding peace and happiness after so long. I honestly never thought we'd see him like this. But now, we do. (Side note: he looks so much smaller and vulnerable without his backpack or shoulder pads).

Anyways, I could go on and on about Crosshair. But I'll save that for another post. Can't wait for next week and hopefully we'll see Ventress!

#star wars #the bad batch #tbb spoilers #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb wrecker #fennec shand

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the-delta-quadrant · 8 months

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i hate what mspec gay discourse did to our community.

we have shitty REGs claiming that mspecness cannot and does not overlap with lesbianism and veldianism, which is obviously shifty.

but then we have the other side completely overcorrecting this myth and going to the other extreme, saying stuff like "being mspec is inherently lesbian/veldian".

and like, can we not do either?

can we just go back to 5 years ago where it was clear that you don't just call a random mspec person lesbian or veldian or gay without knowing they use those terms, but if an mspec person chooses to use those terms it's fine?

exclusionists trying to take away any nuance from mspec identity doesn't mean that inclusive people have to do the same thing but as the other extreme.

all the shared history between mspecs and mono gays doesn't mean that those will be inherently our identities.

there are so many mspecs who simply identify as bi or pan or omni or something else and specifically do not call themselves gay, lesbian, veldian or similar terms. there used to be a consensus that just labelling all mspec people as some kind of gay is mspec erasure and that hasn't changed.

also, "being mspec is inherently lesbian/veldian" does not go together with so many nonbinary people. call me a lesbian and you're misgendering me. call me a veldian and you're misgendering me.

not only does this weird overcorrection statement erase mspec people but it puts nonbinary people into a binary again.

just because historically there were mspec nonbinary people who were included in and identified with lesbianism and veldianism doesn't mean that every single mspec nonbinary person identifies that way. just because there are mspec nonbinary people who also identify as lesbian or veldian now doesn't mean that all mspec nonbinary people identify that way.

you all love to say that someone else's identify doesn't affect other people and yet use mspec gays as some sort of template and apply it to all mspecs, including those who very much do not identify that way.

to say that all mspecness is inherently lesbian/veldian is to say that i'm somehow inherently male/female. which is not it. i don't subscribe to this bullshit idea that we all have masculine and feminine parts or whatever. that goes against the very nature of my gender.

mspec people deserve more nuance. we're allowed to identify as gay. we're allowed to not identify as gay. we're allowed to not identify as gay but identify with the gay community. we're allowed to call our relationships gay but not our orientations. some mspec people consider themselves to be gay in all directions. others consider themselves straight in all directions. others just use an mspec label and don't define it further. we deserve nuance, and neither "mspecsness is never gay" nor "mspecness is always gay" are true.

mspec liberation will not be brought upon us by gatekeeping labels from us or forcing them onto us.

#lgbt #mogai #queer #lgbtq+#gsrm #lgbt+#nonbinary #trans #mspec #gay #lesbian #veldian #bi #pan #omni #abro #poly #mga

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ididntwanttohavetohauntyou · 7 months

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On the double standards of Taylor’s love life and Swifties’ role in Taylor’s reputation

{Fair warning: this is kind of long and I actually originally wrote it during the Ratty stuff but it’s relevant now and this post from @9w1ft (specifically the tweet) made me think that maybe this needed to be really laid out there. }

Disclaimer: I am in no way claiming to know what Taylor’s sexuality is definitively, nor am I suggesting that every relationship she’s had with a man was fake, or that she is a lesbian. I myself have experienced enough bi erasure and biphobia to know better, but I had to put this out there explicitly so hetlors don’t have that as a “gotcha”.

Swifties have the lowest possible standards for whom they consider to be a boyfriend of Taylor’s.

Their standards are a) the media has to stir something up b) they have to interact distantly in some public capacity before they c) walk around together (holding hands or not).

I can give you the names so many women with whom Taylor acted like that, often for longer periods of time and with more interaction than a couple dinners and pap walks or whatever she’s done with those men. And that’s without time to go do research which would doubtlessly turn up more names.

To name some examples:

Karlie Kloss, Diana Agron, Selena Gomez, Gigi Hadid, Blake Lively, Cara Delevingne, Martha Hunt, Sophie Turner, Lorde, all three Haim sisters, Zoe Kravitz, Emma Stone, Camila Cabello, Lily Aldridge, Lily Donaldson.

(To be clear, I’m not suggesting that Taylor dated all or most of those women.)

Now, I have no doubt that if most swifties looked up photos of Taylor with a lot of those women they’d go “they aren’t even doing anything in that picture” or “they’re just walking side by side” or whatever else.

THAT’S THE POINT

I’m 1000% sure that if you photoshopped a man into basically any of those pics people would assume they’re dating because they’re walking together.

Almost all of Taylor’s supposed boyfriends have had significantly less interaction with her than those women, but people don’t hesitate to say she’s dating the men. Her team can and will deny it, but swifties will add a name to their list anyway, and that creates a whole other problem.

The sl*t shaming:

In my opinion, the sl*t shaming that Taylor has experienced for about the last 15 years has been, at least in part, because of swifties who jump to conclusions about men she’s seen with. When her own fans believe she’s dated however many guys, it’s that much easier for the media to repeat that and twist it to be negative.

If you wouldn’t look at a random guy and girl standing within a few feet of each other or walking together and come to the conclusion that they must be dating, why do you assume that about Taylor? Or, for that matter, does every person of the opposite gender that you associate with have to be your SO?

[And yes that can easily be turned around on Gaylors, but the whole point is that we aren’t solely using proximity to link potential exes or lovers to Taylor. We actually do the analysis of the lyrics, we break down the connections, we do the research.]

My point is that swifties have contributed on a large scale to Taylor’s sl*t shaming in a way that should make them think twice about who they claim she’s dating. Unfortunately as we’ve seen with this M*tty situation {and now the football guy}, they don’t seem to have the self awareness to realize how they’ve aided such a disgusting campaign of hate.

One more thing: you can say that no one will say those things now anyway because Taylor is on top of the world and they wouldn’t dare sl*t shame the Queen of Pop or “The Music Industry”. You might even be right. But if you do this and feel no guilt or shame over how your actions may have played a part in the several intense periods of sl*t shaming that Taylor has gone through previously, you need to think about why that is.

Taylor said it best in her speech at the Grammy museum in September 2015. She was introducing Blank Space and talking about the situation that made her write the song.

“In the last couple of years the media have had a really wonderful fixation on kind of painting me as like the psycho serial dater girl… It got pretty out of control there for a couple of years because… every article would be like, Taylor Swift Standing Near Some Guy. Watch Out Guy!”

That sounds insane, and it was definitely worse then than it is now, but the fact that it’s happening right now at all is ridiculous. Swifties need to stop helping the media tie Taylor’s name to men as if that makes her relevant. She’s a highly awarded singer, songwriter, and performer who has set and broken records (and then broken the ones she’s set) countless times. Swifties need to stop pretending that dating someone is what makes her interesting or we’re no better than the people who think she only writes breakup songs.

#sorry that this is so long #I’m sure I left stuff out though so definitely feel free to add #okay i’ll shut up now #kaylor #gaylor #gaylor swift #lgbetty #friends of dorothea

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thydungeongal · 1 month

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I have gender questions. Because you are a gender gal. I am afab and I have always very confidently told people that "I am cis" like, a lot and emphatically. Like, girl and she/her pronouns and my curvey body that I love are all very important to my identity.

I once caught myself being like "I wish i was trans" and then being really confused at where that came from for the next several hours. Oh, and I also get gender envy from twinks. Like a normal cis person.

....Can I be a femboy? Or am I, like, projecting? is that allowed? This feels like a misapplication of transness. Like I'm a cis girl but not in a cis way, what does that even mean. Is this just tumblr gender-based brain rot

This is going to be a very complex and, knowing how I am, meandering answer, but I hope it can give you something useful. :)

While I do think a lot of people would call you catching yourself thinking "I wish I was trans" an egg moment, and to be honest it is like one of the hallmarks of actually being a trans person in denial, I personally wouldn't dwell on it. Thoughts are a weird fleeting thing, and while I can only speak for my own thoughts, I would personally say that it's only indicative of anything if it persists. Like, I personally went through an internal monologue of "I wish I was trans," "no you don't, you're just a cis guy who's a bit gender," "oh ok" for a long time before I realized what was going on. Your internal monologue can be just random words firing into your brain and only when it becomes a pattern would I draw conclusions from it.

But anyway, there's no one right way to be trans. But by corollary, there's no one right way to be cis either. To me it sounds like you are very comfortable in your own skin and your own femininity. Having said that, dysphoria isn't the only useful way of looking at transness in my own opinion: the important question you need to ask yourself is "do I want to live as a woman or would I rather live as a man or would I rather be seen as neither?" The answer to that question can help you pin down what your own unique experience of gender is.

So no, I don't think this is a misapplication of transness. Ultimately the categories of trans and cis are socially constructed and porous and while there are some useful distinctions that can be made between the two neither is a monolith. Now as a person who has committed the worst act of femboy erasure by coming out as a trans woman, I can't of course speak for femboys as to whether such a thing as an afab femboy is allowed, but like... in the words of @punkitt-is-here (who once answered an ask very similar to this one) "You can do anything you want forever."

And ultimately that's the right answer. These words are ultimately just socially constructed terms that try to collate similar-ish experiences of gender into them, and because of that, at the end of the day, they're just words. You can be a cis woman who has just decided to shop at the Gender Store enough to take a few cues from twinks and femboys, and that doesn't mean you're trans unless you want it to mean that.

Anyway as promised that was long and meandering and probably incoherent in parts, but I hope you found it useful. I wish you the best of luck in exploring your gender and ultimately whatever conclusion you reach is your truth and no one can take that away from you.

#thydungeongal answers

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angevinyaoiz · 2 months

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saw Dune 2 (2une?), and since I don't have my dune blog anymore I'll post here, since blah blah this is my place for posting about Dynastic Weirdos. This is long but NO MAJOR SPOILERS, except about like, small detail things that aren't plot things but whatever

Tbh it was disappointing. It had all the correct elements to be liked but one thing grated on me the whole time...the Bad Dialogue and lack of Elevated Speech! Why the hell were all these characters saying stuff like "these guys" "we're ok" and "literally" it took me out of the fantastical world sOOO bad. Super bummer because what I loved about Dune 1 (D-uno?) As someone who went into it before reading or knowing anything was how much it didn't explain, how it let the visuals and the world unfold before you, and how serious and somber it was in a way that gave it a sense of scale and time.

I can only wonder if WB saw all the complaints and tweets about people being like "we didn't understand the first movie!!! It wasn't funny and quippy!!!" And decided to simplify it down so characters just SAY things really obviously and inelegantly. The writing has some competence in moving the story forward but there's no poetry or rhythm to the way characters say things, it's serving "Rings of Power" scriptwriting to me lmao. And it's not like any of the actors are bad? I've seen them do well in the previous movie and in other things, so wtf was going on with the direction. I know people complained Abt Villeneuve saying that whole thing about being more into visuals than dialogue but maybe he was right...there needed to be LESS WORDS. bc much of the words we had were NOT GOOD.

Positivity: the middle and latter part was where the movie picked up for me. The Harkonnen Freak Villain behavior was everything I could have wanted! Finally instead of EXPLAINING everything obviously we got to see a LOT of character building, for Feyd specifically in a very short amount of time. I know a lot of us complained about Bald Feyd-Rautha but Mr Elvis did a very good job. And we got Madame Fenring and weird scifi femdomming finally, which is Essential for the Duniverse! Wonderful fantastic no notes.

Of course, getting back to our heroes, I anticipated this 2 years ago sadly and it was true...the Fremen were badass but SWAGLESS. More Learned ppl have already written about the frustration with the erasure of the Arabic/North African cultural presence so I won't reiterate that here since I'm not super knowledgeable about the specifics of that but even as a casual watcher there was a weird emptiness to the way I feel the society was portrayed. There were individual good character moments, such as fun bantering among the Fedaykin etc, but for Pacing or Whatever they cut out the community aspects that served to make them feel more like well, a People rather than just either Grizzled Soldiers/ Religious Fundamentalists aka Marks/Panicked refugees. I have to guess this was ppl were like "we can't show a culture too cool and colorful and the part with Harrah (Jamis' widow) would feel too ORIENTALIST!!! But the result is something sadly very dry. At least in more older orientalist works, the interest comes from when the ~exotic~ stereotypes figures are able to have charming personalities and personalities and be known as people despite the cliches sometimes but this sadly wasn't even like that....

Jamis' funeral is a good example of this; in the Book, it's a moment where you first get a good look of what rituals are like in this world, and how people relate to each other and to the dead. In the movie, the funeral is looks more foreign and even a little creepy as the water is extracted from the body. There's not really a Personal or community connection aspect to it at all.

The ending was pretty good as it satisfied all the Cool Dune Moments I think we all wanted to see, and also did literally the end of The Godfather Part 1 Framing which was hee hee heh. Anyways, Messiah is MY favorite book of the series personally so curious how they get to that.

Maybe I've been too spoiled by Cool Historical Fiction lately? I've been watching too much of The Devil's Crown where action happens mostly off screen but the dynastic drama is written and acted so compellingly, the historical mindset and setting so alien and yet so human and relatable, it's frustrating to see when works try to do the opposite? Idk??? Dune books themselves is fun in how action is mostly an "offscreen, offstage"' thing.

*if ANYONE in the Universe is a quippy Bastard, it should be Leto II esp in God Emperor where he literally has nothing to do all day but quip all day to terrified acolytes

#Dune 2 #dune part 2 #dune 2024 #2une #Long post #My writing #Not really spoilers in this?

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jerzwriter · 11 months

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You are so fucking disgusting Elsa. Using your bland ass straight white bitch MC to be the MC of the Month for Pride Month.

You’ve gone really low

Good morning, Nonny.

I'd like to say hope you're having a good day, but clearly, you're not.

I was 50/50 on putting this in my "delete because Nonny is a bitter troll who doesn't deserve the attention/exposure they desperately crave" file. But this anon goes beyond the usual "I'm a pathetic human who hates someone on the internet who has zero impact on my life so much because of (insert stupid/insane reason here), so I'm going to be a vile bully and send them anonymous hate because - IDK - I can't find a good therapist? I'm off my meds? I'm just a vile piece of shit?" See, I no longer waste my time or energy on those.

But I decided to answer this because a) you're wrong, and b) you're engaging in bi-erasure - something that happens in the fandom and in real life every day, and I'm not going to pass up a chance to educate your ignorance and address your bigotry.

Casey was picked at random - the same way all MCOTMs and WOTMs are. I grappled with the decision to highlight her bisexuality... because of people like you. In the end, I decided to be true to the character. I've been dealing with people like you my entire life - in my personal life - never mind fandom. So let's educate.

Bisexuality is real - people.

Your ignorance in understanding it doesn't make it any less real. I am proudly bi, but trust me, it feels like a pretty shitty thing to be at times. You're never queer enough for many in the queer community, but you're too queer for those who aren't. There is no real safe space outside of a precious few who get it. And I mean few.

Your straight friends talk shit about you "doing this" to be "cool/get attention" or whatever... and they're "relieved" when you're in a hetero-presenting relationship. Your queer friends are happiest when you're with a same-sex partner, and if you're not, they accuse you of lying about who you are or "hiding." It's awesome. You know, instead of just having friends that are fucking happy if you're happy. People CAN BE and ARE attracted to more than one gender and the feelings/love we have toward both are real, valid and do not have to be explained to anyone.

Anyone who follows my MC (and I don't believe Nonny has) knows that Casey has been presented as bisexual from the day I entered this fandom. If some choose to ignore that, that's on them, not me. The fact that she is half of a pairing that is hetero-presenting does not make her any less bisexual. How ignorant are you?

Her profile clearly states she's bi. I've written about her being an activist for LGBTQ rights and about her reluctance about coming out to her parents (because she doesn't believe she should have to "come out," why is straight the default?). I've introduced her ex-girlfriend, Jessica, in fics and text fics, and discussed Casey's identity at length in numerous asks over the years.

So, yes, her current partner is a man, and he ends up being the love of her life. GUESS WHAT! THAT HAPPENS TO BI PEOPLE! And, TRUST, we know the privilege that comes with being in a hetero-presenting relationship. I've never once had someone throw something at me or hurl slurs when I've held a male partner's hand in public, but I've had it happen when my partner is a woman. But no one bi is "suddenly straight" because of it! And asking us to parade as hetero just because we're with an opposite-sex partner is pushing us into a closet - and I'm sorry, but fuck you - because no one belongs there.

Last June, I deliberately avoided all pride-related events in the fandom (NOT in real life). I did so because I was coping with the guilt that is tantamount to being bisexual. The "Should I put it out there. I mean, there are others who are more queer, right? I have no right to do this? Their characters are more important than mine, right?" And yeah, I've felt that way in real life, too. THIS is what it's like being bi. I'm out for decades, I'm comfortable and proud of who I am, I counsel younger people in the community that they are valid - and I'm sitting here with tears in my eyes right now because with all of that, THIS SHIT STILL CREEPS IN - largely because of s-bags like this Nonny.

So you know what, I'm not grappling with it anymore. It's pride month, and in real life, I'm celebrating to the fucking max. And you know what - I'm doing it in the fandom too. Casey is going to be as out and fucking proud as I want her to be, and if it makes your ass uncomfortable, well, that's not my fucking problem.

Re-read your ask, Nonny. The only disgusting person in this exchange is you. Do fucking better.

#playchoices #choices fandom #bisexuality awareness #bi erasure #hate anons #open heart choices #do fucking better #your ignorance is showing #pride

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