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mulletmitsuya · 6 months

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Toman Groupchat

Warnings: swearing, the topic of sex is brought up a lot, mentions of the r word (i don't actually say it i just say "r word"), gayness, mentions of depression, mentions of suicide, teenage boys. also snuck in a lot of personal headcanons so that might not be your thing

Desc: Mikey lost his V-card

Mikey: just had the sex

Mikey: it's not all that, tbh

Mikey: i didn't like it

Mikey: i was quite indifferent to the situation actually

Mitsuya: that's great 👍

Smiley: you're the last one to lose your v-card and you come back with a report like this?😒

Smiley: we want details

Draken: whose we?

Mitsuya: no we don't

Chifuyu: it must have been difficult tackling the whole issue with you being 5'3 and all

Mikey: you're an inch taller than me😐

Chifuyu: "taller" being the key word

Baji: what didn't you like about the sex?

Baji: i think sex is great

Kazutora: i think it's super nice until you get in over your head and freak out about your performance so you end up having a panic attack and she just leaves

Smiley: LMAOOOOOO

Draken: that's actually kinda sad, you good?

Kazutora: no? i'll never emotionally recover. never again

Baji: maybe it should be with someone you trust and have been friends with for a number of years. maybe even your best friend who would do anything for you. that's just my opinion tho

Draken: just tell him ffs. anything but this

Kazutora: i have no girl friends?? the only women i know who're affiliated with this friendgroup are hina (taken), emma (mikey's sister and also taken), and yuzuha (gay)

Baji: why does it have to be a girl

Mikey: bro

Hakkai: 💀

Smiley: mention homosexuality once and here Hakkai comes

Hakkai: 😐

Kazutora: Baji i know you're gay and i support your lgbtq+ lifestyle but i'm not into dicks like you are man

Baji: what about assholes

Mitsuya: what's the point of this, like just ask him out atp

Mikey: you'd let KAZUTORA top???? insane

Kazutora: what's wrong with me topping? also who am i topping??

Smiley: well you're a twink so you're obviously a bottom

Chifuyu: Kazutora are you actually just gonna ignore what everyone else is saying

Kazutora: aren't you guys talking to Baji?

Draken: are you stupid or what

Kazutora: i'm really confused rn can we just to back to talking about Mikey

Mikey: yes actually. i've decided that i don't like sex and won't be doing it again

Chifuyu: bad day for Takemitchy

Takemitchy: what?

Chifuyu: well since you ride his dick so much

Takemitchy: HUH

Takemitchy: i've never done that with Mikey-kun tho??? i'm with Hina? also I'm straight so I don't understand what you mean by that 😥

Chifuyu: i don't actually mean-

Chifuyu: nvm

Baji: are we allowed to call people the r word anymore

Angry: no it's a slur

Baji: you're probably mad because people said it to you huh? lmao

Angry: yes

Baji: oh

Smiley: i didn't even mean it Angry it was just that one time

Angry: several, one times. but okay

Angry: i still love you

Smiley: can you not say that in front of our friends like idk what to do rn cause i can't say it back so it looks embarssing for you

Angry: 😕

Smiley: ...

Angry: ☹️

Smiley: i love you too

Angry: thank you

Chifuyu: very rare Smiley human decency moment

Draken: you guys are such weird siblings but that was great to watch. character development in a matter of seconds

Smiley: you should all kill yourselves

Mikey: man i really want to

Mikey: that was a literal joke before you guys get weird

Draken: you've actively tried to kill yourself tho

Mikey: yeah but like i won't do it anymore

Baji: we must just, believe you?

Mikey: i know that's hard to do because i lie all the time but yes

Draken: not a convincing argument but nice try

Mitsuya: terrible try actually. Mikey should we be worried?

Mikey: miss me with that gay shit, i'm fine

Mitsuya: i hate you guys so much

Draken: not me tho cause i'm your og

Mitsuya: 😐

Mitsuya: yeah i guess

Draken: 🤞

Draken: i'm gonna go out with my girlfriend now

Draken: also Mikey you're probably asexual. or you haven't found the right one to do it with yet idk

Mikey: what's asexual

Draken: google it

Mikey: Ken-chin c'mon i'm having a crisis rn

Draken: basically low or very little sexual attraction to others

Draken: there's a whole spectrum to it tho so you should probably do some research because that was an extremely watered down explanation

Draken: i'm ace too if that helps

Baji: Emma's a whole ass slut so how does she deal with that

Smiley: imagine bagging Ryuguji Ken with his sexy ass and he doesn't wanna smash. tragic

Draken: first of all, Baji i'll fucking kill you, never say that about Emma again

Draken: and fuck you Smiley

Angry: are you traumatized because of living in a sex orientated/obsessed environment so you eventually began to detest any affiliation with the act?

Draken: yes actually

Angry: i see

Mikey: i just don't like it. i'm not traumatized like Ken-chin :(

Draken: it's whatever

Baji: calm down i didn't call Emma a slut as an insult i just mean it as a describing word because she likes fucking

Baji: i've known her longer than you and she's been fucking since she knew what the thing was

Mikey: i probably should have addressed that as an older brother or something

Mikey: yk, cause i take care of my family

Baji: now she takes care of you with your chronically depressed ass

Mikey: 😒

Kazutora: is Emma also traumatized? like the opposite of Draken?

Mikey: wait should i ask?? her mom did abandon her and she did grow up without a father figure so like maybe i should talk to her

Smiley: you didn't have to dish out her problems like that 💀

Baji: she's got the Sano slut genes because wasn't Shinichiro falling in love with different people everyday? then your dad was impregnating people all the time. skipped Mikey tho

Draken: not everything is trauma related. also Emma just likes sex. it's not a huge deal breaker and if it was she would tell me and we'd talk about it

Mikey: what about having kids?

Draken: stop asking me this shit we'll do that when we're ready

Smiley: it's crazy how Draken is one of the healthiest people here. always reacting sensibly to situations and dealing with his trauma normally. he's such a good guy. hate him

Draken: love you too

Mikey: did he deal with it all that healthily if he beats people to a pulp most of the time

Draken: i stopped doing that

Baji: why though, you were an actual unit

Baji: wasted talent. i still beat people up

Draken: Emma said to

Mikey: fair

Smiley: Mitsuya could be on Draken's level too but something went wrong along the way cause he's a boy liker

Mitsuya: 🖕

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alastors-antlers · 4 months

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Why Alastor is good aroace rep after all, written by an aroace

Hello all! I just want to start off this post by saying that I'm one person who definitely doesn't speak for all aroaces, but I wanted to make a post on this anyway, and maybe some folk would be interested in hearing out another perspective?

I'm not really caught up on everything that's been said over the course of HH's creation - only more recent interviews, since I'm pretty new to the fandom. Apologies if I've missed anything, but also I do not have the time to keep up with all the out-of-canon-material backstory unfortunately. I'm working with what we've got here.

So here's the thing:

Alastor is cruel, he's narcissistic, he doesn't care about anyone except himself, he's a serial killer and a monster.

(That's the argument I've heard - please tell me if that's not really what people are going for lol, in which case I've totally misunderstood?)

The issue with aroace rep when it paints asexual people with those traits is that it aims to dehumanizes them. Sex and love are essential to the human experience, right? So why wouldn't someone be interested? Because they're self-absorbed, and cold, and detached. They don't have the capacity to love others enough to feel romance.

And sure, Alastor is a killer, and a schemer, and prideful, and a monster by hell's standards. But no matter how above it all and stylish and in control and provocative he wants to be, he's a very human character, and his aroace-ness never serves to add to his alienation. You could even say that it makes him seem even more personable.

That's what I think is the key difference.

why he's human

Alastor's whole persona is about control, and he basically straight-up says this. He's controlling what his enemies know, what his public image is like. His goal is to be the Radio Demon -- overlord of Hell, charismatic, Machiavellian, and undefeatable. He's not. Despite that smile plastered over his face (a powerful tool, huh) he's so expressive for someone who's constantly pretending.

You see his exasperation with the Egg Bois and with Charlie's ranting; his nervousness in front of Zestial; his frustration with Lucifer and the petty lengths he goes to to piss off the ruler of Hell.

You see his desperation, making that deal with Charlie. He's surprised by the idea of being vulnerable in front of an enemy like Adam, and so close to danger. He drops the radio filter and the affect out of fear, and runs on broadcast TV to let out panic and anger and bitterness in his hideout, where no one else can see him.

He has a smile that tells us he's genuinely happy to see someone; it's a little wider than his default. You see it with Mimzy's greeting, you see it with Rosie. Rosie, especially, serves to make Alastor more human to the audience. More on this later, but for now, I'm just saying that you can see that he at least seems to respect her greatly. Whatever bond they have, we know that he trusts her to touch him, to share history with him, and with support that he trusts no one else for.

He pretends, but he can't pretend it all away. Loads of these emotions aren't even advantageous for him to show. It isn't necessarily how the typical asexual psychopath acts; he's not emotionless or only capable of anger or brutality.

He's so full of emotion that it leaks through, despite all that he does to avoid it. He's not inhuman and aloof, not really - he's so, so human, even when he tries not to be because he thinks that'll be what keeps him above all the rest. In control, and free from his chains.

(If anyone wants to see images about all this, I'll make a separate post - just let me know.)

(I also have another post, talking about why Alastor is at least a little attached to the hotel's residents too, shown via conversation with Niffty. In what way? different question.)

how the aroace part contributes to that

Now, to be fair, we don't hear much about his aroaceness in canon. It's just not relevant a lot of the time.

In the pilot, Angel's proposition ruffles his feathers so much that Alastor blanks for a moment. It's a joke, sure, but that ace panic face is a pretty popular Alastor moment in the fandom - Alastor, thrown off-balance by a sex joke of all things, after so many years in Hell that he should probably be used to this.

It's a moment that makes him more approachable; his aroaceness shows him unprepared for something someone else does for one of the only real moments in the whole episode.

And the other part: the ace in the hole statement.

Rosie apparently knows Alastor so well that she read that he's aroace. That tells us about their relationship; namely, that it is long-standing and genuine enough that she gleaned a piece of real information from him. It's a casual fact that she knows about him before he even figured it out himself. It lends legitimacy to their bond - this bond that shows us a more comfortable and warm side of Alastor that we don't often see.

If their relationship is purely business, isn't this something pretty frivolous and personal? It's not like he has anything to gain by telling her about his life, but she learned about it somehow. How close are they? That's where it adds a layer of complexity and personality to his character..

thoughts on representation

Overall, Alastor's an interesting character who has a level of depth and care and personality (outside of cruelty) that asexual psychopath tropes lack. Again, the moments where he's being represented as disinterested in sex or romance don't make him seem detached. Again, they don't say "look how hostile toward relationships his behaviour is - how separate he is from our humanity". That's what bad villain ace rep is. That's not what the show's doing.

Also: I'm not saying that we need to lower our standards or anything, but even if you think it's not the best rep, I feel like we should be supporting HH's efforts here. I know that on Tumblr we have a pretty queer-friendly space going, which is honestly an understatement lol but

Aces are incredibly underrepresented in fiction. There's a whole Wikipedia page about asexual characters in media, and it's short as all hell, and even if you consider what's on there you see quite a number of one-off characters who are never mentioned again.

In terms of real life business - before the DSM updated their definition of hypoactive sexual desire disorder (HSDD) in 2013, identifying as asexual wasn't even a recognized thing. If you talked to a clinician about your lack of sexual desire, you could be diagnosed with a disorder. Only in the 5th edition do we now have a little exclusion footnote about it.

The concept of asexuality hasn't been explored nearly as much as other queer identities in our scientific research. We get crumbs in terms of mainstream representation and understanding. House M.D. has an episode where House "disproves" us because he's just so smart.

Alastor isn't going to be perfect representation. There's no such thing as perfect representation, and from the moment he was conceptualized, you could see how people would take him poorly. Still, I think he's a net positive.

He isn't a side character or a token ace - he's a core part of the show, whose personality and character motivations we can reasonably presume are going to be explored much more deeply in upcoming season(s). He's loved by the fandom. Right now, given what we know, I trust Vivziepop to write the aroace representation he deserves, because with the way I've heard the cast/directing/etc. talk about him, they're trying to do the aroace community justice, so I wish people would let up just a little on the whole "Alastor is bad rep".

Let's give him a chance, all right?

#hazbin hotel #aroace alastor #alastor analysis #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel spoilers #asexual #asexuality #hazbin alastor meta #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin #alastor #hazbin meta #hazbin analysis

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thetrashthatsmilesback · 6 months

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More serious response to people getting genuinely annoyed or insulting Dan for the photoshoot: if you had no issue with him as a 25 year old gyrating his hips for subscriptions (25 being an age which many would call "too old to still be thirst trapping" by many of the same people complaining about the catboy photos), but suddenly have an issue with a 32 year old Dan doing catboy thirst traps, then I think your issue is just that he's not an emo twink anymore so you aren't personally attracted to it and therefore it is "bad" in your mind.

Like, honestly Dan has done shit like this since Day 1, lest we forget the period where he was shirtless in literally every video, but if you only have an issue with it now that he's fully come into his adult body then maybe the issue isn't that he's "too old for it" but that he no longer fits what you personally are attracted to. Because, let's be honest here, 32 is not "too old" to be having sex or being sexually open. I'm probably asexual based on the everything about me and how I am regarding sex, but even I know the importance of not expecting sex to be reserved for people only aged 18-27 (which, btw, if you are one of those people, you're a creep!)

It's also really telling how people will be cool with guys in their 50s posting bikini shots of their 23 year old girlfriend but the moment two gay guys post photos from their bed that are promiscuous, everyone is suddenly worried about what age it becomes inappropriate to thirst trap on the Internet. Like, maybe you're just homophobic?

#dan and phil

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klavierpanda · 10 months

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Bro...aroaces are literally the most represented everywhere. And you're still complaining. Go ask aroallos and aceallos about being recognised lol

The post wasn't even about representation, it's about the fact that even in aspec spaces there is a tendency to leave out the aro part of aroace and just viewing those people as asexual where being aro is an afterthought. Do you not see how that is also harmful for both aroallos and alloaces?

In the case of aroallos it's the fact that they're forgotten about because they aren't asexual and therefore their identity isn't even at the forefront of most people's minds when discussing aspec stuff. Their aroness is erased because it is not accompanied by asexuality.

In the case of alloaces there is the underlying assumption that romantic attraction isn't felt because there is still the assumption that aroace and asexual are the same thing. The fact they do feel romantic attraction is erased by the fact they're asexual.

The underlying issue here is that there isn't a great understanding of how different attractions interact with each other and the different labels we have to describe different experiences, even within the aspec community.

I made the post because an irl aspec group that I'm in were talking about the aroace character in the new series of Heartstopper and almost all of them referred to him as asexual. I have not watched Heartstopper (romance stuff doesn't interest me) but I was informed that there's actually a stronger focus on romantic attraction, i.e. the aro part in his aroace identity. As well as a consistent feeling that my aroness was erased when I identified as aroace and is ultimately one of the reasons I dropped the ace part of the label.

#this really isn't the slam dunk you think it is anon #for one you didn't even get the right take away from the post #(but what can I expect on the awful reading comprehension website)#and for another I have spent years in the aspec community and I am pretty seasoned when it comes to this sort of discourse #it's literally just a distraction tactic so that ultimately nothing gets done #the only reason I've answered is because it provides a nice opportunity for me to explain things in more detail #aro #arospec #aroace #ace #acespec #aromantic #asexual #aspec #ask panda

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dragons-and-dwarves-are-nice · 1 month

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The Grim Reaper's Guide to Breaking Every Rule of the Universe /// Chapter 4

ANOTHER CHAPTER IN LESS THAN A WEEK. BRING ON THE GRINDDDDDD. I will warn that my motiviation for each of my fics comes in waves, so you'll probably get chapters in random chunks ngl. Enjoy!

Summary: When touring America for the sake of it, you go to stay with your aunt in New Orleans for a while, taking up a peaceful part-time job restoring objects. But a few weeks in, a package arrives containing an old radio that's seen better days, along with a note seemingly written by someone who thinks they could fist-fight the Devil.

What you didn't know, was the hell of a path that was now set out in front of you. Not fist-fighting the Devil, but instead a very smug radio host who would have no problem spending the rest of his days driving you up the walls.

But two could play that game.

Tags: Demiromantic-Asexual Alastor x Demiromantic-Asexual OC/Reader - 1920s/30s New Orleans - fluff - angst - EXTREME slow burn - crack - Violence (It's Alastor what else)

Word Count: 4590

Warnings: Period-typical sexism, Period-typical attitudes towards neurodivergency, Swearing, Mentions of murder. MC'S RACE IS DEFINED DUE TO PLOT REASONS (also because she is based off my OC)

Taglist - comment or message to be added!

Now available on Wattpad and AO3 (please let me know if links aren't working)

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

PART 1: Chapter 4

Unconditional Violence.

Bambsquabbled (Definition): A 19th Century American slang word essentially meaning stupefied or confounded. (Adjective)

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 18th December, 1929.

You had expected the additional Tuesday Mr LeBlanc had given you off to prepare yourself for the radio company to consist of you sleeping in until 11am. But dreams are short lived when you have an aunt who insists the ass-crack of dawn is prime time for everything.

You guessed it was fun to climb onto the roof of your relative’s vast home to collect the crystals you had both put out under the full moon, before the energy given to them was whisked away by the rays of the early golden hour. But when nerves settle in like the green spirals of nausea the night before, sleep takes the hand of another, leaving you to lay there with your over-active mind as it drags you through every possibility and event that could end up with you looking like an idiot in front of your new colleagues, or worse. Can’t think of much worse. But the universe will find a way.

It always does.

When Wednesday finally rolled around, it was barely 6am and you already couldn’t wait for it to be over. Your cousins had found you curled up on the bench swing, having dragged your duvet outside as you balled yourself up like a worm, sipping on the iced tea Agnes had bought you the day before in an attempt to settle your nerves. It did. A little.

And now here you were, the first half of your new workday having gone as smoothly as your awkward self could do.

Ethel, who’s desk was closest to yours, had dubbed you the quiet one after spending an hour running her mouth at you with barely a break for you to chime in. You had also already created quite a commotion on the third floor, a few people intrigued by the new ‘foreigner’. Well – as foreign as you can get when you’re from another English-speaking country, in the biggest cultural melting pot of a city had ever seen in your rural life. But they found you interesting enough.

The oddest thing you had experienced that day, however, was a strange request from your new boss – Mr Durham himself.

“I don’t suppose you know how to pull off a local accent?” he had asked when showing you the phone on your desk.

All you could do was blink at him. “I’m sorry?”

He gestured to the phone. “Since you’re my assistant, you’re gonna be filtering through the calls I get before passing them onto me. Now, there might be an issue if someone calls expecting to hear me, but instead find themselves speaking to a British girl on the other end. Some can be impatient and might end up putting the phone down before you explain.”

Memories of that one very unpleasant phone call flooded your mind. “Even if I answer: ‘Hello W.A.D Radio, this is Mr Durham’s assistant speaking’??” you replied monotonously.

“You’d be surprised.” He sighed. “But do you know how to anyway?”

Frowning, you recalled your time in the cities further in the North. “I guess..? A girl I rented a room from in New York insisted on teaching me for when we went into town, but I struggle to see how it’s important?”

The man put his hands together, pointing them at you in a prayer motion. “Just.. try it out? Talk like your colleagues when you see them, to see if you can get a hang of it – I’m sure they’ll be happy to help. Please?”

You gave him a wavering look, but sighed, finally giving in. “Fine, but they can’t make fun of me.”

He beamed, patting you on the back in satisfaction. “I’m sure they won’t! I’ll be in my office if you need anything.”

And with that, you sat in your new chair, trying to pointedly ignore the sign at the other end of the room that pointed you to the fifth floor, and began your attempt to settle in.

New Orleans, Louisiana, USA – Wednesday, 8th January, 1930.

There wasn’t much to celebrate when the new decade rolled around. Gone were the so-called ‘Roaring Twenties’, when you would join your parents at the parties and balls they were invited to – when it was acceptable, of course; those higher up in the class hierarchy still grasped to the dwindling standard that children should be seen, not heard. The year you turned eighteen ended up being quite interesting, when the older women who had turned snooty at the sight of your teenage self wandering around their stately homes, tried to attempt a 180°, as they congratulated you reaching adulthood with strained smiles. But you paid them no mind, too busy staring at the paintings or statues that lined their corridors – a stark contrast to the more barren and plain wallpaper that coated the walls you grew up in.

But now that was far behind you, the English garden parties in the spring and summer that you adored so much were now a mere echo in the distances of your mind. The noises of tiny forks clinking on fine china as the little birds twittered in the trees now replaced by the sputtering and groaning of automobiles as you gripped the pole of the tram, your arms tight against your chest as you tried your best to not let the swaying of the vehicle toss you about into the crowd of packed bodies around you.

Making sure the scarf was tucked safely around your neck, you grasped the small briefcase in your hand – mentally preparing yourself for you first day back at the radio station after the new year. Unfortunately for Mr Durham, a small hurricane had passed over during the holiday, and radio stations across the city were temporarily silenced as their mechanics desperately attempted to repair the damaged towers. And also unfortunately for you, only the hosts were offered a couple days off as things got back up and running, though some still showed to prepare for their shows; you, on the other hand, were still expected to show up like any other day.

So here you were, pushing open the (now familiar) double doors, giving a small wave to the receptionist, who’s name turned out to be Diana, and the woman barely raised her hand in response as she continued to tiredly shift through the concerningly large stack of papers on her desk.

You were just about to climb the wide staircase when you heard her call your name (something you were very surprised she knew, considering her tendency to ‘accidentally’ throw paperwork in the bin on the daily), and your wedge heels clacked against the tile flooring as you stumbled slightly, turning to face her as her nasally voice echoed around the large lobby.

“It’s best you stay in the shadows today.” She warned cryptically. “Trouble’s in, and the mechanic’s not happy about the damages – Durham’s getting the brunt of it, but you’ll end up in the crossfire unless you hide out during breaktimes.”

All you could do for a moment was stand and stare, a million thoughts running through your mind. Mostly about who ‘Trouble’ was, and why Diana thought you couldn’t handle the guy and the other mechanic. You did handle the radio man at the repair shop after all, and speaking of the radio, you were quite proud to say you had finished the it in time for Christmas, and had shipped it off with a very passive-aggressive note that hinted for the man to basically never return. Luckily, Mr Boudreaux hadn’t replied to any of your letters since you had begrudgingly accepted the object, but you had suspected he had called the shop once or twice, and you had left Mr LeBlanc to deal with it, mostly because he was quite terrified you would call another customer every name under the sun the second they tried to give you trouble.

Glancing back and forth between Diana and the stairs, you mumbled a slow “Oookay…” before nodding your head and turning on your heel to hurry up the steps. Reaching the third floor, you didn’t stop in your path as you neared your desk, instead dropping your briefcase onto the wooden surface as you dashed by, striding towards the door that had the golden plaque engraved with ‘Mr B. Durham’ onto it. Grasping the handle, you turned the knob, swinging the door open, only to stop in your tracks as you were met with a very empty office.

You frowned. It must be really bad if your boss was no where to be seen. Whipping around, you scanned the main room for him, but only saw a few of your colleagues, the rest still yet to arrive – you were normally expected to be in early to handle Durham’s work as soon as he began.

Throwing your coat and scarf on your chair, you strode back towards the stairs, readjusting the suspenders of your wide-legged trousers as you practically jogged up the steps, and ended up rolling the sleeves of your loose blouse to your elbows as you tried to catch your breath.

On the fourth floor, you spent a couple minutes checking all of your boss’s usual haunts or hiding places, even going as far as interrogating a couple of the workers there for his whereabouts. It wasn’t until some blonde guy that came wandering down the steps from the fifth floor that you got your answer, the man looking up to take in your slightly dishevelled and feral appearance with wide eyes as he stammered out that he was in one of the radio booths. To his further horror, you patted him on the cheek with a thanks as you rounded him, ready to take another flight of stairs to reach your – apparently – floundering boss.

Ignoring the embarrassed sputtering of the man behind you, you eye the sign nailed to the wall, the painted hand pointing upwards with a very bold ‘FIFTH FLOOR’ next to it.

“Don’t go up there until I say you’re ready, okay?” Mr Durham’s words echoed through your mind.

Buuuuut, he did say he wanted to discuss the stuff you brought in your briefcase ASAP.

Yea that’ll be your excuse. You can deal with his complaining later.

Reaching your heel-clad foot out, you took the first step, almost like you were expecting an axe to come swing down and impale your forehead. But when nothing happened, you shrugged, and simply continued up.

Recalling the path your boss had taken you on during the initial tour, you managed to find the dreaded corridor that supposedly housed your greatest nightmare.

Extroverted people.

Yeesh.

At that thought, you did consider turning around, but your urge to drag your boss’s arse back downstairs drowned that thought out, and you carried on.

Surprisingly, it was quiet, but at the same time not so much when you remembered that most of them were plating their somewhat wealthy behinds on their armchairs at home as the rest tried to fix the issues of the storm.

Reaching one of the lit rooms, you heard raised voices.

“–really expect me to know? –” “– supposed to be on in an hour! How is that –”

Cautiously, you peeked around the corner to try and witness the potential fiasco. And what a fiasco it was.

Wires, cables, and any other random parts that were used for radio technology were strewn across desks, tables and even the floor. Amongst these were two men, and there was only one you recognised.

Just like you had seen him every day for the past month, Mr Durham was stood in his washed-out blue suit and concerningly shiny shoes, and at this point one hand was on his hip, whilst the other rubbed tiredly at his face as whom you assume was the mechanic, was blabbering the poor man’s ear off as he ranted on and on about random parts and problems and he gestured frantically at said random parts and problems. Wait – nevermind, you recognised one and a half.

The man from across the street was here, with his back to you. Again. For fuck’s sake.

This time he was back in the seat you first saw him in, this time with a few strands of dark-brown hair out of place, curling slightly as if to rebel against the intense styling he had put it through. Peeking your head out slightly further, you managed to get a good look at him.

Well for one, he was a triangle. Stupidly broad shoulders that narrowed into a stupidly small waist (triangle), with lanky legs long enough that you could probably chop them off and fashion them into skis. Despite his face not revealed, you could see the semi-light tan on his hands, that were busy turning knobs and dials as he listened in to whatever was coming through the headphones on his head. He was dressed to impress, to say the least, in smart, dark-grey trousers, who’s ironed out edges looked as if they could slice through skin. His high collared cream shirt was tucked away under a relatively tight looking reddish-tan waistcoat, and to top it all off, you could see the back of the black ribbon that was most likely tied in a stupidly even bow.

You didn’t want this guy to sense your staring, so you opted to look back at the other two men who were still chuntering on about god knows what. Stepping into the light that flooded through the glass, you wave slightly to try and get your boss’s attention. A couple seconds passed, and you watched as the mechanic kept glancing at you and Mr Durham, until eventually he nudged the other man on the shoulder, pointing you out.

Turning his head, Mr Durham’s eyes met with yours, and you raised your hand with a questionable thumbs up to see if all was good, only to watch in slight confusion as his eyes widened, and he whipped his head rapidly between you and the faceless man sat at his desk, before marching over to the door and pulling it open a crack, sticking his head out.

“Hey uh,” he half-whispered, surprisingly nervous at your presence. “what’re you doing here?”

You lowered your voice to match his. “You said to come find you as soon as possible this morning, you know, to go over those statistics from that other station?”

Realisation dawned on the man’s face, and he reached up to drag his hand down the side of it. “Shit I forgot,” he cursed, and glanced over his shoulder before facing you again. “I’ll – uh… I’ll be down as soon as I get this sorted. Marty’s givin’ me a run for his money right now and the second Al takes his headphones off I’m gonna feel like I’m entering an early grave.”

Surprised, you eyed the man sat at the desk, who looked far too calm to be threatening anyone right now. “Ok… I guess it can wait. I’ll bring you some coffee up!” you chirped, and Durham went to call out that it wasn’t necessary, but faltered with a frown as he realised you were already halfway down the corridor.

Balancing the tray of cups and steaming jug the best you could, you reached the final step, retracing your route to the radio booth that your boss was probably getting murdered in. Walking up, you waited patiently until Mr Durham noticed you, and watched as he reluctantly trudged over to open the door.

Taking your first step in, you were hit with the very potent smell of strong black coffee, as if someone had some brewing every day, and you figured you had made the right call of fetching the same beverage as you placed the tray down on one of the tables.

The mechanic was still going off on one, and you watched out of the corner of your eye as you slowly began pouring the coffee into the cups, listening to the greasy-looking man speak.

“– there’s literally no reason that I can find that’s causing the local outage!” he spouted at your frowning boss. “The boys have already fixed the aerial, and David’s currently on-air and that’s working perfectly fine, so it has to be something in this room!”

During the man’s tirade, you noticed the rustling of papers, and looked over to see the faceless man again, still at his desk, but his hands were fiddling with no purpose, and his head was turned to the left slightly, showing his high cheekbone and the edge of his thin circular glasses.

Looked like someone else was listening in too.

Biting your smile down, you turned back towards the cups in your hand, only to have a glint of light pierce the corner of your eye, and you looked in the opposite direction to a large wooden box, with one of the panels removed, displaying the endless wires and springs that coiled and wound in every direction. But you weren’t looking at that, you were instead looking at the screwdriver that was very prominently glinting in the shine of the ceiling light. This must be the painstakingly obvious problem that the mechanic had painstakingly missed.

Giving a quick glance over at the men, you waited until they faced away, scrapping about the wire pile on the floor, and you reached for the wooden teaspoon on your tray, and inched towards the box. Knowing wood doesn’t normally conduct electricity, you raised your hand, testing it anyway against the hanging wires to see if they were live. Seemingly not, you stuck your hand further in, and began nudging at the tool, slowly loosening the wires around it as you dragged it along the bottom of the box.

When they had deemed your silence as suspicious, the mechanic and Durham turned round, only to see you elbow deep in some very expensive equipment.

“Whoa, whoa, WHOA!” the mechanic cried as he rushed over. “The hell are you doin’??”

Instead of jerking your arm back out and apologising to the man who was slowly turning purple, you gave the screwdriver one last flick, and the three of you watched as it dropped over the edge and fell to the floor with a clatter. Moments of silence passed as you all stared at it, until you decided to explain.

“It was tangled in the wires, which would’ve prevented the electricity flow,” you said plainly. “Plus, if you had tried to power it all up, it could’ve set the place on fire.”

All the mechanic could do was stare down at the tool, but Mr Durham had decided to approach, and bent down to pick up the tool.

“Nice one.” He complimented, turning the object in his hands. Though the warm smile he had put on for you quickly vanished, as his eyes set upon the name engraved on the wooden handle. He pointed at it. “This has your name on it Marty.” He said lowly, his blue eyes turning dark as he regarded the paling man with a look of thunder.

Seeing the outcome, you gestured nervously to the beverages on the table. “Coffee’s there, Mr Durham, I’ll see you downstairs.”

Just as you walked around him, he called your name. “Take ten minutes to yourself and grab some tea, whilst I deal with Marty here.”

Nodding, you curtly took your leave, swinging the door open as you power-walked out, failing to see the sharp pair of eyes following you from where they were sat at the desk.

You found the break room housed several curiosities that you were yet to explore in America. Apart from the atrocious fact that the tea station lacked the Yorkshire brand, you found yourself poking at what they called a teabag. Yes, surprise, surprise, the Americans invented something tea related before England or even China did, but you had to admit it was rather useful in helping you not gag at the slimy tea leaves that sat at the bottom of most of your beloved brews.

With the table to your right, you leant your hip against it, your back against the door as you rather noisily mixed the spoon around your large mug, making sure the sugar was dissolved properly before you went to strain the teabag. Lifting it carefully out of the boiling water, you gingerly held your other hand out below it to catch any stray drips from hitting the floor, scanning the room in front of you for a bin that you could chuck it into.

What you foolishly had failed to do however, was hear the footsteps that grew in volume from behind, and you hadn’t realised anything until a very uncomfortable prickle hit the side of your neck, as a very unwanted presence loomed over you. Though, that didn’t last long, as the presence decided to deafen you instead.

“So YOU’RE the new assistant!”

A banshee screech raised from your throat, the teabag flying through the air and onto the floor by your feet as you basically jumped three feet up. Instinctively, however, you didn’t realise what was happening until one elbow flew upwards, slamming into the nose of the man behind you, the other flying round to collide with his ribs. Teaspoon armed in hand, you spun around to face your assailant, only to step on the soggy teabag that was still on the floor, and you cried out again as you slipped and slammed into a very firm chest. Eyes screwed shut, you felt the two of you fall, though quickly broken by the table behind you.

Relieved that you were no longer falling, you swiftly blinked your eyes open, your dark brown ones meeting a pair of equally matching brown. Moments passed as you took in the scene in front of you, and you realised you finally had a face to put to the lanky man from earlier.

Said man was groaning as he rubbed at his nose, his lips twisted into a grimace as he checked for blood. What you noticed however, was the several poignant glances the man took to your right, and you followed, only to see you hand raised, teaspoon in hand, pointing down at him as if you had a machete, ready to stab the lights out of him.

A small gasp left your throat at the realisation, and you quickly pushed yourself off, pointedly ignoring the grunt the man let out as you knocked at his ribs. Taking several steps back, you distanced yourself from him. He had gotten close before, he wasn’t about to do so again.

You watched as he pushed himself up on his elbows, using the table as a support as he stood. To a disturbingly tall height might you add. Looks like you did just reach his nose after all.

“I’m uh,” you started as you eyed him, teaspoon machete still in hand, strangely, you instinctively used the southern accent you learnt – it was the one you used with strangers. “Sorry. I didn’t expect you to sneak up on me like that.” Reaching over, you snatched up a napkin, offering it to him. “Y’haven’t got anything…?”

Dark eyes flitting between you and the outstretched napkin offering, you watched as something seemed to switch in his demeanour, and a natural smile fell across his tan face as he raised his hands in mock surrender.

“No, no, don’t worry, it’s quite alright.” He assured, and you blinked at his prominent transatlantic accent. “I figured that wasn’t the best way to say hello to a stranger!” he laughed as he smoothed down his crumpled waistcoat. Reaching his lanky arm out whilst tucking the other behind him, he offered his hand out in greeting. “The name’s Alastor, my dear. And who do I have the most entertaining pleasure to be speaking to?”

You stared at his hand, then flicked your eyes up to him, scanning his grinning face with vigour.

Where, oh where, had you heard that voice before?

Your silence seemed to confuse this Alastor guy, however, and his eyes darted around in confusion as you continued to stare. From what you could see, he had come to a very wrong conclusion about your silence, and leaned over at you slightly, bringing his face level with yours.

“Cat got your tongue, my darling?” His growing cheshire grin reminding you of two very similar people. “You clearly must find me that dashing if your this speechless, haha!” he chortled, the condescension rolling off him in waves.

Oh, you knew exactly where this guy was from.

Narrowing your eyes, you scrutinised him as you quietly muttered out a single word.

“Boudreaux.”

Alastor blinked, eyes darting around your face, before raising a hand to cup at his ear. “I hate to say but I didn’t quite catch that!” he exclaimed rather loudly.

You felt your brows begin to furrow, so you raise your voice slightly. “I said, Boudreaux.”

Oh you did it now. Sparkles seemed to glitter behind his chocolate eyes as he perked up with glee, straightening up to his full height. “So you do know me after all! I was starting to think you simply had nothing going on in that head of yours!” he simpered as he tilted his head to look down at you.

Despite his clear mocking, you remained quiet for a moment longer, until you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“…You work in a radio station.” You stated flatly.

Alastor looked around, acting as if he had just realised as such. “Yes I am quite aware!” he affirmed in an obvious tone. “Did you want an award for that observation?”

You had to refrain from gaping at this man’s audacity. “… Couldn’t you have just fixed it yourself?”

The man blinked at you. “Fixed what now?”

Oh, this was it. Stepping forward, you didn’t stop until you face was a hand-lengths away from his, and you watched with satisfaction as he shifted at your invasion of his space – talk about a hypocrite as someone who clearly loved to invade the space of others. Staring at the man dead in the eye, you fully dropped the southern accent, your Yorkshire one coming back through full force.

“Your mum’s radio.” You stated simply, raising your brows to regard him with a condescending look that matched his.

You had expected him to brush it off, laughing when he realised who you were. What you hadn’t expected for his pupils to blow wide, his eyes darkening as they narrowed, scrutinising your gaze with his own, and you suddenly felt a little uneasy.

“Oh,” he said lowly. “It’s you.”

Keeping your gaze levelled, you gripped the spoon harder in your hands. That is, until your name was called.

The two of you straightened up, you leaning to look around Alastor as he spun on the spot, the both of you facing Mr Durham, who was looking between the two of you rather nervously. He called your name again.

“C’mon.” he said, refusing to take his eyes off Alastor. “Let’s go over those papers you brought.”

Without a second thought, you darted for your mug of tea, grabbing it along with an almost empty bottle of milk to put in it as you strode around Alastor, feeling the hand of your boss as he put his arm around your shoulder as he quickly led you away, and the back of your head prickled, definitely feeling the sharp eyes on your retreating back this time around.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ALASTOR'S HERE RAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! Watch me disappear from the face of the earth for a week cuz of my executive dysfunction lmao (Blame my adhd not me she's a seperate entity at this point.)

I hope you've enjoyed what I've given you so far, see you soon for Chapter 5!!

Please let me know if you want to be added to the Taglist!

< Chapter 3 // Chapter 4 // Chapter 5 >

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Taglist: @theredviolets @mybrainsautocorrect @all-user-error @belos-simp69 @boogiemansbitch @elio-ee @snowlotr @mistresslemonsuger @sugasweettea @jaygrl22 @mysterypotatoink @yunimimii @threefingeredpencil @mydeardelphi @glowinthedarkbones1150 @fluffismystaplefood @writer-girl99 @rl800 @the-unhinged-raccoon @riritvt @melodyidk @ray-rook @artstorieshusbandos @4k1to

#are you proud that i'm bringing on the grind for everything except my uni work?#they gave me 5 assignments again :/#also having a crisis that high school musical is turning 20 in the next two years #making me feel ancient #but not as ancient as lucifer #he's giving prehistoric #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor fanfic #alastor x you #alastor x oc

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darkwitchingflower · 3 months

Text

ITS BEEN A WHILE but here's things me and my friends have said as pjo character pt 4/5???

Annabeth: That's not very feminism of you (@wraith--2)

Hestia: maybe build like a life size bread bloke (@carpcranium)

Leo: Feels like my toes are bleeding but it's just cause they're defrosting (@wraith--2)

Percy to annabeth: Nooo pookie don't leave ill get her a spider abortion (friend not on tumblr)

Annabeth: I thought I'd die before seeing common sense in this gc (friend not on tumblr)

Jason: It's not boring to want money and to not be even more mentally ill (@indecisivenb)

Leo: Sure bud (me)

Piper: Jesus was not straight (@wraith--2)

Some random camper in the dining pavillion: Hes staring into my soup (@wraith--2)

Leo: Everyone needs a piece of Leo (friend not on gc)

Leo: Me dehydrated: must not drink sex juice (@wraith--2)

Jason: Me and Percy cockfight like 3 times (@chefchennan)

Piper: Harry x hermione

Ron x jesus or smth

Luna x whoever tf she ended with? (Friend not on tumblr)

Mr D to someone being given a quest: You don't have a choice

They don't have a choice

It's equality all around (me)

Piper: Im not a people pleaser, im a woman pleaser (friend not on tumblr)

Jason (idk why but i instantly thought Jason): saggy balls? (@chefchennan)

Thalia: From your local asexual xx (@wraith--2)

Thalia: Homicide on Pinterest is an interest (@wraith--2)

Chiron: oh that's nice to see! A camper with a smile! (My criminology teacher)

Annabeth: ye I made percy smile by telling him I didn't like him in greek! (Friend not on tumblr)

Apollo: Will! Thoughts on be crime do gay?! (@carpcranium)

Thalia about Frank: Me and him are still friends we shoot kids together yesterday (@chefchennan)

Will doing some form of doctor test idk: I'm gonna skedaddle into your scrotum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: I f**king love garlic bread yummers. Its gotten so bad that I eat is everyday. I sweat garlic butter and shit out logs of bread. It's an endless cycle and I remake the garlic break with what I unleash (friend not on tumblr)

Percy to Annabeth (leo helped after frank found them in the stables): Thine eyes are blessed with the sight of her. Her.

Who I wake to every morning and think of

Who I dream of at night

Aphrodite has forsaken me yet she is my light

The waves will roar and crash

And I know, she is always up for a smash (@wraith--2)

Leo to literally any girl with a pulse: When I see her thoughts are gone

And all I can do is simply long

She could never be mine

Yet still I pine (@wraith--2)

Rachel thinking abiut percy: Days will pass and the sun shall set

All the while I'd place a bet

That I'm still there

Twirling my hair

Dreaming of something that was never fair (@wraith--2)

Thalia: is is the most fun I've had in ages, I'm trying to teach the bot aromanticisum (@wraith--2)

Thalia: As a matter of fact I am definitely aromantic but thanks for the suggestion (@wraith--2)

Leo, he meant to say floppy disks: Have you ever seen one of those floppy dicks-...🤏 (friend not in tumblr)

Mr D: Anyways orgies (@wraith--2)

Will to Nico: She's like nah, no love hearts have an onion were like Shrek now (me)

Percy: When I go to sleep I'm going to dream about gay sea creatures aren't I? (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: It's okay I'm a big girl I cry into my pillow (@wraith--2)

Annabeth: ohhh right in the trust issues (@thatonelazyghost)

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inevitably-johnlocked · 7 months

Note

I’m so sorry if this question is ignorant or stupid I really just want to understand so I can become educated. When someone is asexual would they still gain something from reading explicit fic scenes? Again sorry if I’m ignorant

Hey Nonny *HUGS*

SO SORRY it took so long to reply to this one... Kind of started and then it got forgotten, and I am sorry for that. No better time than Ace Awareness Week to help you understand!!

So, short answer to your question, is YES, SOME aces do, whether to facilitate in self-pleasure, or because seeing their faves happy, or as placeholders because some aces take pleasure-by-proxy, or a variety of other reasons, it just simply makes some of us happy. You'd be surprised how many of those smutty authors are actually ace themselves. It's one of those funny misconceptions that aces are all woobie-uwu-innocent-pure-thoughts-only magical creatures, and I'm here to shatter that illusion... Aces are some of the smuttiest-minded people you will ever meet. Why, I have no idea, maybe it's because we don't fantasize about sex the same way allos do that we can come up with increasingly hornier ideas? LOL No idea.

The thing about asexuality is that it's a HUGE spectrum, and no one ace is exactly the same. A sex-negative ace might get something out of reading smut because it's not involving them. Or they might not at all. Same with sex-positive/neutral aces. It's ALL a matter of what makes us tick.

BUT here's where I go into my LONG answer, and get you REALLY into the Ace Lore™.

I want to introduce you to the microlabel of Aegosexuality (formerly autochorisexuality), which is a term that loosely translates to "sexuality with oneself". The expanded definition, from the Sexuality Wiki, bolding is mine:

It is [...] a disconnect between oneself and a sexual target/object of arousal; may involve sexual fantasies or arousal in response to erotica or pornography, but lacks desire to be an actual participant in the sexual activities therein.

Aegosexuals are known to:

Become aroused by sexual content (at times) without wanting to personally engage in sexual activities.

Masturbate, but feel neutral or repulsed by the idea of having sex with another person.

Fantasize about sex (with varying frequency), but envision people other than themselves, and/or view it in third person, as if watching it on TV, instead of imagining it in the first person, through their own eyes.

Predominantly—or exclusively—fantasize about fictional characters or celebrities in place of people they know personally.

Identify as asexual, feeling little-to-no sexual attraction to people though enjoy masturbating (with varying frequency), are aroused by sexually explicit content, and/or fantasizing of such.

[/end quote]

====

Basically, smut turns them on, but some aces don't want to engage in the smut for-reals. This microlabel makes it ESPECIALLY confusing for newly-figured-out-aces because there hasn't been a lot of information about asexuality's huge spectrum until recently. Aegosexuals can initially believe that they AREN'T ace, BECAUSE they get turned on by porn or smutty stories, but then they're SUPER confused because the idea of having sex themselves is appalling or undesirable. It's a bizarre contradiction, understandably, to outsiders, but it makes COMPLETE sense once an ace figures this out, I promise you.

This is the microlabel I myself fall under. It's not from any trauma or past problems or medical issues. It's just me. That's it. And because of the confusion that this sexuality can bring, it often takes us a LOT longer to have ourselves figured out. For me, it was an accidental stumbling upon the "autochorisexual" label (before it became Aegosexual) and reading up on it that EVERYTHING fell into place. Before that, I thought I was maybe demisexual. After learning about it, I felt okay FINALLY calling myself ace, that I finally found the "right fit" for me. It was the piece of the puzzle that I was missing. I felt really liberated of my self-doubt after that.

And, of course, aros have their version as well called Aegoromantic, which is exactly the same but in a romantic sense.

Here are some more resources for Aegosexuality, if you'd like to learn more about this lesser-known branch on the spectrum:

What Does It Mean to Be Aegosexual? (Cosmopolitan US || November 24, 2022)

WHAT IS AEGOSEXUAL? MEANING, HISTORY, AND USAGE. (Gayety.co ||July 11, 2022)

History of Aegosexuality (The Michigan Gayly || February 1, 2021)

EVERYTHING YOU NEED TOO KNOW ABOUT AEGOSEXUALITY (Live Love LGBTQ+ Blog || October 27, 2017)

VIDEO: 5 Signs You Might Be Aegosexual (Lynn Saga, YouTube || August 6, 2022 || 6m20s)

VIDEO: What is Aegosexuality? | Aspec 101 (Slice Of Ace, YouTube || July 15, 2022 || 3m54s)

VIDEO: Asexual Identities: Aegosexuality (Ace Dad Advice, YouTube || May 22, 2022 || 12m27s)

====

AGAIN, I'm SO sorry I put this ask off for SO long, but I'm glad that I did, so that I could educate you guys on my brand of Asexuality during Ace Awareness Week!

And, finally, no offence taken at ALL! I LOVE educating y'all about stuff I learned through my journey, and you were very respectful in your ask :)

Hope you are well, Nonny, and hope you're still here to see this 🖤💜

#steph replies #asexuality #asexual awareness week #aegosexuality #ace week #my ramblings #links checked 2023-10-26 #lgbt resources #lgbtqia #about me

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genshingorlsrevengeance · 7 months

Note

I was reading through aome of the other asks and found one I saw was really neat so could I request R0635, UMP9, SOPMOD and Springfield having somehow had children with S/O, what they would he like as parents.

(Also what do you mean SOPMOD asexually reproduced an identical smaller version of herself HOW)

(GFL) RO635, UMP9, M4 SOPMOD II and Springfield as parents

(SOPMOD) "Don't ask questions you aren't prepared to handle the answers to, anon!" Much like the original ask with DEFY as parents, we will assume the child's genes for their mother's side is the DNA of the human they were designed from.

RO would be constantly worried about her and S/O's child.

She'd be worried about their safety, that they weren't spending enough time with them, and a myriad of other issues.

But the moment she hears their laughter, her worries melt away as she holds them.

RO didn't think too much on what she would do outside of war, considering she was a weapon, but now she has an idea.

As much as she wishes for them to be on base so she can watch them more closely, she doesn't want them in harm's way.

And more importantly, she does not want her child to have terrible influences like SOPMOD or M16A1.

(RO635) "A-Ah! Sweetie, please be careful, don't run! You could slip on the ice around here!"

RO is admittedly a bit overbearing and a touch too affectionate for her child but it's all out of a place of love for them, and nothing is getting between her son/daughter.

UMP9 literally could not be any happier with her child and S/O.

When she and the rest of Squad 404, she wanted to start a family when she had enough money.

And it looks like one goal was already taken care of!

Given the secrecy of her squad's operations, she doesn't openly visit her child for their safety.

But the moment she can, she absolutely smothers them in affection, picking them up and giving them kisses all over their face.

(UMP9) "I'm hooome!~ Give me a hug!"

UMP9's smile threatens to hurt the servos on her face with how much she does so, playing with her kid and having zero hesitation in indulging in whatever game they wanted to play with her and S/O.

UMP9 introduces her child to her cool "aunts" of 404, having to awkwardly explain why UMP45 was so sarcastic, HK416 was so "mean", and G11 was always asleep.

CHAOS

SOPMOD is excited to have a child to raise with S/O! It means that she can teach them all sorts of cool things!

Now S/O has to reign in the chaos of two people, since the child doesn't know any better, and SOPMOD is SOPMOD.

Whenever she isn't there to look after the child due to a mission or base safety, she lets her child have SOPMOD II Jr. accompany them.

The two apparently get into all kinds of trouble, but they aren't caught so it doesn't bother SOPMOD that much.

To which S/O cannot say the same about their feelings on the matter.

(SOPMOD) "S/O! Let's go play, mommy's got you a new toy!"

The new toy consisted of a child-sized flamethrower that she made herself, which had S/O sweating buckets trying to convince her to not let them use it.

Antics aside, she would never let their kid come to any kind of harm as long as she remained functional, and always triple checks to make sure they're safe.

Springfield works even harder at the cafe knowing that she has a child.

At the end of the day, she always makes sure to save enough sweets for her family to share.

Since Springfield is not often deployed on missions, she actually has her child stay in her room on base.

If they're old enough, she has them help out around the cafe with her, G36, and S/O.

Her smile seems to grow tenfold in their presence, admittedly spoiling them a great deal.

But she can't help it! She loves her kid far too much, but she isn't afraid to scold them when necessary. Especially when it comes to hard work.

(Springfield) "Dear, please bring your mother some coffee for her friends!"

She always baked before meeting S/O and having a kid, but now her muffin production has kicked into overdrive, to the point they always have extras no matter how many they eat.

#girls' frontline imagines #girls' frontline headcanons #girls' frontline x reader #ro635 x reader #ump9 x reader #m4 sopmod ii x reader #springfield x reader #ro635 gfl #ump9 gfl #m4 sopmod ii gfl #springfield gfl

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yxlenas · 2 months

Note

Bishova is such a funny ship name imo, 'cause "fag" in portuguese is "bicha" so whenever I read "bishova" inside my head, it reminds me of "bichona" (aka "big fag" in portuguese) lmaooo

Anyways. Pls feel free to share some of your bishova headcanons (even though I don't even go here lol). I kinda see the ~vision~ from that one scene w/ them that I saw (yeah, I'm gay and weak, sue me)

I HATE the ship name soooo much lmao I was on the ground floor of the ship (Like, pre-hawkeye, using their interactions in the Thompson BW run for inspo) and I was gunning for it to be Katelena but I was 100% outvoted.

I'm gonna give you a couple SFW ones and then a couple NSFW ones because I WILL make you a Marvel girlie if it takes the rest of our tumblr lives

Yelena has some food issues (food insecurity/aversions, trouble acknowledging her fullness cues) and Kate is the one who helps her figure out how to treat those. One thing they do is that when they go out to eat, Kate boxes up half of Yelena's entree for her when it comes to the table so Yelena doesn't eat herself sick.

They're both neurodivergent-Yelena was an excellent assassin but in the MCU there's little to no suggestion that she ever did honeypot missions and I think it's because her social cues aren't great. Kate absolutely has hyperactive ADHD.

I think Yelena enjoys being read aloud to. She finds it soothing. Kate will read news articles and books and shit out loud to Yelena with Yelena's head in her lap.

They are both obviously dog people but Yelena is *obsessed* with Bucky's cat Alpine and will wander around with Alpine tucked in her hoodie. Alpine does not like Kate. Kate will MAKE Alpine like her if it's the last thing she does.

Antonia Dreykov is not much of a Kate fan at first. She finds Kate soft, loud, overly dramatic, and painfully naive. Then Yelena almost dies on Antonia's watch, and Kate steps up in a very serious, real way. That wins Antonia over to the Kate side.

NSFW

Yelena's the bottom. I love bottom Yelena. She's a spoiled, bratty sugar baby pillow princess and Kate is OBSESSED with the power trip it gives her to see Yelena like that.

Tbh I'm not into asexual Yelena and less and less inclined to even discuss it but I DO think Yelena has hangups and triggers around sex. The girls take the physical intimacy part of their relationship at a GLACIAL pace, and there are times where something Kate says or does ends in a meltdown or panic attack for Yelena. It makes Kate feel very guilty. Yelena makes jokes about it, which does not provide the levity that she THINKS they do.

Kate doesn't really like to wear pants much, especially in their room/their own apartment once Yelena is secure enough to live with just Kate (I think for a while Yelena lives with Bucky and thus Sam, and Kate ends up there too-Yelena gets anxious alone and needs to learn to person). Yelena regularly grabs her ass and squeezes before BOLTING to trick Kate into chasing her and throwing her on the bed.

#Katelena #Kate Bishop #Yelena Belova #Yelena Belova Headcanons #Bishova #bishlova #kate x yelena #yelena’s food issues

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nothorses · 10 months

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As someone who doesn’t fall within the LGBT part of the acronym I’m still more uncomfortable with queer as the umbrella because it feels like the last progressively acceptable way to be exclusionary. Obvs plenty of folks still judge whether ppl are gay/trans enough. But doing that is at least explicitly not acceptable in the spaces I wanna be in. Whereas it’s accepted and sometimes encouraged to criticize or even exclude ppl for not being queer enough (in theory a political call, in practice a judgement on identity and presentation). I do still use queer to signal correctly, but it does not sit well for that reason. Wish there was a third option w/no political history, but I know we’d just do this to whatever new term we came up with too

I mean, I think "I know we’d just do this to whatever new term we came up with too" kind of hits the nail on the head here.

This isn't something that happens because of the word, it's something that happens because of the people. The word itself is not inherently exclusive; in fact, it's explicitly all-inclusive. It's for anyone who falls outside of the relevant societal expectations, by definition, and there is no list or any further defining or qualifying that needs to be done.

The issue with "LGBT", and any variation thereof, is that it's a list. It starts with the letters people consider most important to start with (hence, "GL" becoming "LG"). Even if it didn't, it requires that we name every single kind of person who's welcome, individually, which inevitably leaves people out- or tells them that they aren't welcome on the terms of their more "niche" identities, but rather only if they happen to have a more visible and accepted one alongside it. (See: "straight asexuals aren't LGBT")

People can still act exclusionary regardless of word choice, but if the words they're using do not themselves reinforce or encourage that way of thinking and behaving, it's kind of ridiculous to pin the blame for that on the words. People are going to do that with any word we use- at some point we have to decide whether the fight should be in finding a new word each time they do it, or in getting them to stop behaving that way in the first place.

Also... I'm sorry you've experienced this, and I think it needs to be addressed. But speaking personally, that experience isn't universal. When folks have gatekept who "counts", in my personal experience, they've overwhelmingly been using "LGBT" (or just "LGB"). If they use "queer" at all, it's interchangeable with that and other terms. Again, not to say that your experience doesn't matter- it does- but so do other people's.

You don't need to use "queer" for yourself if you don't want to. You also don't need to use "LGBT" or any variation. But we're not talking about personal identification, either; this is about which word is most practically useful and effective in achieving our goals of maximum inclusivity and clarity.

#queer #I know what you mean by people doing the 'not queer enough' thing. like. I really do.#I dont want to sound dismissive here

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lovelybrooke · 11 months

Text

Who Am I (Roman Roy x reader)

This was spurred from this post. This is based off of my own experience as an Asexual person so if this doesn't relate to you, I apologize. This is pretty self-indulgent. I've decided that if I'm going to continue this, it's going to be on my Ao3 account, lov_brooke. I've uploaded this chapter there already, so if you want to read it there feel free.

"What are you doing here Roman?"

"Hey, what's with the shit attitude? Aren't you happy to see your favorite person in the entire world."

You ignore his comment in favor of leaning in closer towards your computer screen, like the spreadsheet would randomly fill itself the closer you got.

Roman shuffles closer to you, if that was even possible, he was basically on top of you all the time. He leans his elbows on the table, resting his head in his hands, watching you speedily type away on your computer.

"What are you doing Roman?" You question again, annoyed with his presence alone. You've been dealing with Roman's increasing clinginess for the past few weeks now, only getting a break when Roman's forced to deal with one of the many issues higher up in the company.

Roman groans, standing up straight, gaining the attention of your coworkers around you, not that he cares. He looks around for a while, seemingly lost in thought as you stare at him dumfounded. "Roman what is up with you? People are working!" You whisper through gritted teeth, getting a high-pitched giggle out of him.

"Oh, people are working? Really? I couldn't tell." He mocks you, waving to the people in their cubicles as they attempt to avert their eyes. He moves his gaze towards a cubicle with a free chair.

"You using this? No, thank you." He gives haft assed pleasantries to the person sitting across the free chair. He grabs it, dragging it across the floor until it reaches the spot next to you. He sits, pushing his back into the chair as he tilts his head towards you.

"Y'know you should just...become my assistant." When your eyes move towards him questionably, he looks away, embarrassed. He huffs out an irritated sound, "Don't fuckin look at me like that. I'm just saying it's better pay than your stupid little desk job." He grumbles, "And I wouldn't have to walk all the way down here every time I want to see you."

You laugh, momentarily getting him to smile, "There's an easier solution to that problem, stop seeing me during work." You turn your gaze from him back towards your computer screen, missing as his eyes widens slightly in surprise.

Sitting up straight as he rubs the back on his neck, anyone with a brain could tell he was uncomfortable, his eyes darting around like he was looking for an escape. Though, you were blind to it, consumed by the work in front of you, which for some reason, made Roman even more upset. Why weren't you paying attention to him, he's right here.

"Well then why don't we?" He mumbles loud enough for you to hear, causing your head to shake in surprise. You look over at him, shocked.

"What?" You ask, eyes furrowed in confusion. He doesn't look away this time, staring at you with a mixture of anxiety and anticipation like he was expecting your answer. When you stared back at him, waiting for an answer, his look hardens and he leans back into his chair, defeated.

"I mean like...I don't fucking know, like we hang out after work, or whatever." He studders, his voice wavering as he continues to talk. You don't know what to say, it wouldn't be terrible hanging out with him, but Roman's...Roman, y'know?

You look around nervously before scootching you chair closer to him, attempting to make as little noise as possible. As you move closer, you can see Roman's shoulders relax, and you can almost see his eyes soften as you stare at him.

"Are you asking me on a date Roman?" You whisper. Roman's demeanor goes from relaxed to defensive in an instant. Suddenly, he's leaning away from you, backing into the chair like he's trying to fuse with it. He crosses his arms over his chest like he's trying to protect himself from your judgement.

"Fuck no." He answers quickly, faltering when regret crosses your face and you lean away from him, embarrassment all over. He shuffles, attempting to get closer to you. "I mean, what it I was?" He rushes out, backtracking on his harsh words.

You shoot a glance at him like you're trying to gage his honesty. Roman hates your sheepish gaze, like you're afraid to look at him. He hates watching as you cower around him, but he doesn't say anything to cease your discomfort, like his body is stopping him from moving and speaking.

"If you were-um...asking me on a date, I-I'd like that." Your words are small, but they leave an impact on Roman. He's stunned, watching as you studder about trying to find what words to say. If he wasn't nearly shitting his pants, he would say you're cute.

Roman mouth gapes and his eyes dart around, ultimately focusing on you. "I mean if you want to..." he's nervous, so he doesn't give a definite answer, like what's happening isn't real. And when your eyes lock on him, he feels small, and suddenly he's aware of every person on the floor eyes on him, but he really only cares about you. You're the only the only one that matters in this moment.

And when you smile, he feels his heart squeeze, buts it's a nice feeling, he doesn't mind. "I'd like that." Your voice is filled with more vigor than before, which fills him with a strange feeling that he's definitely not complaining about. A smile creeps up onto his face, a giggle escaping him. You don't react, but he can see your grin widen and for a second, he basks in the momentarily happiness you provide him.

---

Roman remembers the first time he met you, probably too well than he should.

It was less of a meeting and more of him watching you whenever he had to make his way down to one of the lower floors. You weren't anything special, another low-level employee that was a part of the giant conglomerate that was his father's company.

You were nice to look at, and so he did just that. He looked.

You were so easy to watch, typing away on your computer with laser focus. You barely left your desk; he wondered if you were stuck there. He reveled in the few moments where your professional facade broke, and you were yourself. It felt wrong to look at you during these moments, like he was a kid watching something he knew he shouldn't. But fuck, when he saw you smile at something one of your boring coworkers said, he knew he was fucked.

Roman wondered if you were just as nervous about this fucking date as he was. Was it actually a date, it had to be a fucking date. He wouldn't be paying this much at some fancy ass restaurant if it wasn't a date. Roman fixes his collar for what's felt like the fiftieth time, eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. You weren't late, you wouldn't stand him up, but he couldn't help the idea of you getting second thoughts and leaving him to wallow in his own embarrassment.

His gaze travels back to the table, shifting the silverware around in an attempt to lessen his anxiety. He can't stand the whispers of the people around him, judging him. He knows that they aren't, but he wishes you were here.

"Hey." He looks up, too nervous to say anything as you sat down. You looked nice; your hair was done in a style he hasn't seen before. But that wasn't what he was focusing on. It was the glow around you, as stupid as it sounds. You just made him feel...nice.

"I'm sorry I'm late." You're speaking again, he can't take his eyes off of you. "Traffic was horrible. Had to park like fifteen minutes away just so I didn't have to pay a stupid price."

"I could've gotten someone to drive you." He mumbles, hiding his face with the menu. You smile, offering him a kind look that makes him even more nervous.

"It's no issue Rome, don't worry." Now you're calling him Rome, like you're best fucking buddies. Now he can't decide what overpriced piece of meat he wants and it's all your fault.

You shake your head as you read the fancy names of food and wine, "where are all the prices?" You lean in to ask him. The menu blocking his face slowly fall, revealing Roman with a small smirk.

"None of these fancy-pants restaurants have prices. This isn't a Denney's."

You snort, covering your mouth when you notice other people around you looking. Your look is soft, not filled with the usual distain or annoyance that is common when people look at him. It makes his stomach turn, but it's nice. Gross.

"Watcha getting?" Roman asks, munching on a breadstick. You don't answer for a while, mulling over the menu.

"I don't know, everything looks so..." You pause.

"Gaudy, overpriced, gross even?"

"Took the words right out of my mouth." He smiles, leaning back into his chair, fully comfortable. He watches you take a bite of breadsticks, eyes lighting up at the taste. Mouth full, you mumble to him.

"Are these free?" The laugh he lets out alerts the table next to you, not that he cares, your carefree behavior puts him at ease.

"This isn't Olive Garden, of course not." You swallow the food, pushing the basket away from you.

"Oh, sorry." Roman shakes his head, pushing the basket back toward you not before taking a bite of one himself.

"No, go ahead and eat. It's what we're here for." You wait a second before continuing to eat. Roman doesn't know what to do, he can't stop watching as you just, exist. He feels like if he says anything he'll ruin the moment your two are having, if it even is a moment. Maybe you two should leave, go to one of your Rinky Dink poor people restaurants just so you'll have a better time. But you seem to be having a good time now, fuck he's overthinking.

"Hey, do you want to get out of here?" Roman leans in, his voice low. You tilt your head, looking at him strangely.

"Like, to another restaurant or?" He raises a brow, letting out a huff, blowing a strand of hair away from his face. "No, I mean you wanna go back to my place and bone." Roman felt gross saying it, it felt wrong, especially when your expression fell, and you suddenly became dejected.

"Roman..." Your voice was quiet, he didn't like it. It's like he said something wrong, but fuck, usually sex made people happy, why would you be any different? Why do you look so grossed out at the prospect of having sex with him?

He looks away from you, not wanting to look at your face any longer, the comfort once there gone. "Never mind, just forget I fucking said anything." He rubs his face with his hand, all the sudden his seat is uncomfortable, and he wants to die.

"Rome, it's just...I'm not looking for that." Roman rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, no, I get it. Don't want to deal with the backlash of fucking someone so great" He laughs, but it's filled with no emotion. He doesn't see your expression, but he could feel the disappointment radiating off of you.

"No, Roman." He hears you sigh. "I mean-- I don't want to have sex with you because I don't like sex." You sounded completely serious, and when Roman finally met your gaze, he could see it all over your face. "I'm asexual Roman."

"What like a fucking amoeba?" Roman looks at you like your stupid, fixing his face when your look becomes stern. You learn closer to him, placing the menu down in front of you with a little too much force.

"No, Roman. Like I don't want to have sex because I don't like sex." You voice is clipped, finishing the statemen with annoyed huff.

Roman didn't know what to say, his heart was beating too fast for him to speak, and the sound of your voice made him want to melt into his chair and never face you again. He shook his head; he knew that if he opened his mouth, he would say something stupid that he would regret. Roman's eyes dart back from your face to his hands in his lap, slowly losing it as your face becomes colder and colder.

"Look, Roman, if that's something you want then that's totally fine." You hold up your hands in front of you, trying to emphasize your words. "But then I don't think we should be out on a date."

It's like you were breaking up with him and you guys weren't even together. It was ripping him from the inside out, his breathing was quickening, his face felt hot. You were destroying him at just the prospect of you leaving.

"No-don't fucking-let's just eat. Forget what I said." He was stumbling again, like usual. And he felt stupid. Like usual. But for a second, he saw your eyes light up with hope.

"So, you're fine, with that I mean." Your words are equally as awkward, filling him with a weird sort of ease. He doesn't say anything, just nods before going back and looking at the menu. His thoughts never leave you, even when you're obscured from his sights.

---

Your date was fine.

Roman though that was an understatement, Roman thought it was great, other than the awkward moment he didn't want to think about.

But Roman being Roman, he couldn't stop thinking about it. Whenever he thought about what happened he wanted to throw up. His mind constantly told him that he ruined everything with his pervy, fucked up brain. Even though you accepted his offer to go on another date in a few weeks, his body visibly cringes whenever his brain goes back to that night.

Another, worse part, of his pervy, fucked up brain made him wonder if you were lying. If you were so disgusted at that thought of having sex with him that you lied to get away. Though, when he tries to imagine it, he's disgusted by the thought of having sex with you to, so he's probably just stupid.

"Rome, you there?" Roman is pulled back into the present.

"Yeah, fuck don't yell in my ear." He hears you laugh on the other line. Gross.

"Sorry, you just went silent on me. You good?" Roman stares at himself though one of the many mirrors in his penthouse, he hates the way he looks. He looks tired and strung out and not like himself. He doesn't know who himself is. The closest he's felt to himself is with you.

He blinks, looking away. "Yeah, I'm good." You don't say anything, clearly not convinced. "Anyway, so I was thinking--and don't get all fucking weird, but like--how did you know...about y'know?"

You were able to put two and two together, a sigh coming though his phone speaker, "I just knew Rome. I had sex, I didn't like it and I knew that I was never going to like it." You're answer just filled him with more confusion.

"So that's it, you had sex once and you just went "welp, fuck that shit.""

"Well, there was other things, but it's different for everyone."

Roman is pacing, and he swears you can hear his nervous breathing though the phone. "Okay, but like, what other things?"

"I don't know Rome, when I was young, I hated talking about sex, hated when people would ask when I was losing my virginity like there was a fucking prize for doing so. Whenever I imagined doing it, I wanted to die."

Roman doesn't hate talking about sex, it's basically all he talks about, so he's good on that part. But remembering when he tried having sex with Grace or Tabitha, he felt his insides attempting to escape.

"Why are you asking so many questions Rome?" He raised a brow, shaking his head defensively, nearly dropping his phone.

"None of your business, fuck off." He took a breath, becoming quiet, "Fuck, sorry, anyway I have work, talk to you later, bye-bye." He hung up before you can say anything, rushing out the words so quickly in an attempt to lessen his embarrassment.

"Stupid fucking questions, stupid fucking feelings, fuck off." Roman didn't know who he was talking too, most likely his brain which was running at a mile a minute. He wasn't--he doesn't know what he is. He likes sex, it's cool, just as long the person he's having sex with can't see him, or touch him, or tries to do anything remotely intimate with him.

He sits down, puts his head into his hands, and tries to get as small as possible. Hinding from the world. Everything is going great with you, too great, like the world was preparing him before a cosmic fuck over. Why'd you have and make things so complicated, why couldn't he just be happy.

---

Roman feels like a fucking twelve-year-old, looking up an article on asexuality. It wanted to know more, for you, y'know. Definitely nothing else.

You've never felt sexual attraction to someone, regardless their gender.

Well, that's fucking stupid, he was attracted to a number of people, Grace, Tabitha. But to say that he was sexually attracted to them sexually would be a lie. Both of them tried multiple times to have sex with him and it's never felt more wrong. He's ruined every relationship because of his inability to stick his dick in them. Well, whatever, it doesn't fucking matter, that's not something you want.

You don't feel like you require sexual intimacy in a relationship. You prefer hand holding, hugging, cuddling.

Now this was just fucking stupid, he clothes his laptop with a heavy sigh, staring up at his ceiling. It was dark, but he couldn't sleep. He was too busy thinking about you and your stupid fucking words. Why couldn't it be as easy for him. Why couldn't he just know.

Roman remembers when you took his hand absentmindedly during your second date today. He felt his body freeze up and his skin nearly fall off when you pulled him near yet another cheap food stand. After a while, he barely noticed in anymore, but your presence overwhelmed him, in a good way. He didn't want to let go, and when you hugged him before entering your dingy apartment, he swears he's never felt something so nice before in his life.

Instinctively, Roman rolls over onto his side, wrapping himself up in a secure hold. It doesn't feel the same, but it'll do.

#succession x reader #succession fanfic #succession #roman roy #roman roy x reader #succession hbo #roman roy x you #fanfiction #fanfic #x reader

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