#he loves to say people with weird pronouns and think there's more than two genders should kill themselves because he knows it makes me angry

[the-gayest-sky-kid]

my brother keeps being a bitch on purpose and it's really not helping

#my therapist says hes probably doing to feel better about himself and it's like. fuckin hell dude #because like. look im not saying i dont poke fun at him either right #but i like go think i dont go below the belt in terms of shit??? #like i love him im not going to call him genuinely stupid or ugly or anything. #hes good at math and pretty capable. even if he incinerated mac n cheese once and we had to get a new microwave #but he keeps going up to me like (aether) whats a×b? oh how do you not know that instantly? are you stupid? #its because (extremely personal issue) LOL (deep cutting personal issue again) #and its like look ive never been good at mental math stop being a fucking jerk over me not knowing fuckin 9×7 off the top of my head #and i keep telling him to drop it and shut up but its just spurs him on more because its funny to him #and he keeps bringing up other shit like being queer or being trans specifically because he knows its upsetting and its just fucking funny #he loves to say people with weird pronouns and think there's more than two genders should kill themselves because he knows it makes me angr #with him. and he knows im fucking queer. he knows our grandmothers queer. and he still pulls this shit #and i cant say anything because when i do i get a whole lecture about how hes my flesh and blood and i should treat him like such #and im the asshole for suggesting he act like it for once #i love my brother and im proud of his achievements but i cant keep fucking doing this #and i know its my fault because hes a stupid kid and going through typical middle school boy bullshit #and seriously getting hurt by whatever a middle schooler says is downright pathetic #but it fucking hurts to hear someone you held as a baby and defended say people like you should kill themselves #and it hurts to have them fucking push a topic that upsets you for their own amusement #swearing cw #aethers rants #cw vent #personal posts and stuff idk

[tange-my-rine]

bun in the oven || Tangerine × afab!reader

Summary: The two lines were haunting you. Of course, it was after a month's trip -when you hadn't seen him in so long. So, you spent an insane amount of time thinking just how he'd react and if your world would come crashing down as soon as he'd heard the words. You were totally fine. Totally.

TW: unplanned pregnancy, worrying, blood, injuries, cursing (it's Tangerine) and all things bullet train.

[[A/N: I use gender neutral pronouns, but you are pregnant so... I hope that opens it up to more people. Enjoy :)]]

He'd been gone for at least a month. You actually weren't sure, it was kind of blurry; you'd been working so much and then you'd... Well, you'd missed your period and made an appointment and they tested your blood.

Every day since then had been monotonous, ringing in your ears and your brain running 100 miles a minute. You stayed home most of the time, eating some weird food combination (you honestly thought it was a myth), and being nervous out of your goddamn mind.

It's not like you'd ever talked about this. You talked about the future, yeah, and he was always saying 'I'm goin' to marry you one day, love' with those eyes.

He said it once with his head in your lap and your hand twisted into his hair, blue eyes all soft and sappy -like he couldn't believe you were even there. He'd said it again when you gently cleaned off a cut along his cheekbone, between his legs as he sat on a stool -he didn't even take his eyes off you for a second. All soft words and even softer smiles.

You did believe him, you did.

But you hadn't yet, and they were just words -no matter how genuine and earnest they seemed.

Everything in your body tingled, and you weren't sure you were even thinking straight for weeks. That's probably why when he'd showed up, you'd been the most tired you'd ever been but still somehow bouncing off your toes. You felt like a bundle of nerves just waiting to explode.

Initially, you weren't sure you even wanted to tell him then. He would be tired and bloody and hurt- You weren't positive it'd be the best time, but at the same time, you really couldn't hold it any longer than a night.

Or you didn't think you could. You really should've known better.

"Tan," you hummed, gathering his face up in your hands -turning him at different angles to see the slices and scratches littered along his skin. They were tiny, you noted, less like a knife -a big long scar, and more like... well, thorns.

"Glass," he muttered back, slow and tired, "-broke a fuckin' window, didn't have time to move."

"Are you hurt anywhere else?"

He paused for a moment, eyes lazily drifting across your skin -always with that look.

"Don't lie to me, Tan."

"Never, darling," he smiled, a soft one that you knew was specially reserved for you, "-I think I bruised my ribs, 'at's about it."

"Honest?" You questioned, eyes heavy on his.

"Honest, love," he reiterated -eyes still following you like you were that of a dream and he hadn't woken up yet.

"Good," you echoed, trailing to grab his hand and bring him to the stool -it was your makeshift doctor's office at this point. A drawer in the kitchen filled with first aid, all ready for these nights; you'd started it after the first few visits. You think after the first time he came home bleeding you'd started stashing it all away.

"Lemon okay?" You questioned, digging around the drawer -wipes and bandages.

"Worse than me," he spoke quietly, eyes not leaving your face as you dabbed at his face, "-doctored 'im up the car. He's alright now. Conscious enough to talk about his fuckin' trains."

You smiled, he was always so worked up about his brother -wasn't he?

"He say you were a Gordon again?" You teased, trailing over a cut above his eyebrow -fingertips soft and gentle.

"No," he huffed, "-not a fuckin' Gordon."

"I know, honey," you laughed, ever-so-slightly, "-you don't have to convince me."

His lips curled into a smile, cheeks crinkling -part of you wanted to trace his crow's feet, brush your fingers into his hair. Later, you told yourself.

If you had a later, something in your mind chimed.

You stiffened, breath hollowing in your chest, hand held still against his skin; you stood a bit frozen. Rigid edges, and breaths short and quick. Something in you wondered if he could tell, if he could sense-

Tangerine paused, turning his face to match your eyes -fingers (you absentmindedly noticed blood underneath his fingernails) tilting your face with the softest of brushes, "Everythin' alright, darling?"

"What?"

He tilted his head, ignoring your movement to keep bandaging him -other hand gently wrapping around your wrist, stopping you in your place. Blue eyes swimming across your own like he was trying to read you, like he could tell.

"You're all stiff," he pressed his lips together, thumb rubbing circles into your wrist.

"I'm just tired, Tan," you smiled tightly, not quite reaching your eyes before stepping forward to bandage him more.

He merely held you in place, holding your eyes with no hesitation, "That's a bullshit answer, you know 'at."

"Look," you sighed, "-can we talk about it tomorrow? When we've both slept?"

"Not if you're upset," he frowned, preturbed by your behavior -you should've known he could tell.

"Tan," you paused, careful -your voice gently shaking, something you'd only hear if you were really listening, "-I really don't..."

"Love," he tilted his head -eager to match your eyes, keep your attention, "-tell me."

You don't know what happened, if it was his voice, or his eyes, or his hands. You couldn't tell. Something bubbling up in your throat, and burning the backs of your eyes, you really didn't want to do this now-

Something crossed over his face, as he scooted down from the stool -with ease sliding his hands down your arms, keeping you there. Tangerine knew you too well.

It slipped past your lips before you could even think about it.

"I'm pregnant."

His mouth opened before he could think about it -something instinctual, "Right, and I'm the Virgin fuckin' Mary."

"Tangerine."

He paused, eyes sifting across your face -something passed through his again, something new, something you had never seen before. You swallowed, hands curled into themselves so hard that you might have bled -you couldn't tell, you were numb.

"You..." he echoed, throat dry and eyes wide open, "You're serious?"

You flattened your lips, eyes burning and tears gathering -your hands shaking and your brain thrumming in your head. You couldn't speak.

"Darling, I didn't-" he paused, swallowing hard, "-I shouldn't have said fuckin' anythin, I didn't mean- I... fuck, seriously?"

"Tan-"

He breathed out, still holding your arms in place, "Are you... Are you happy, love?"

"Are you?" You pushed through, "-I've... I've spent a month wondering if you were going to just... leave me."

"Oh, love," he sighed, bringing up his hands to cup your face -soothing in a whisper, "-love, listen. I could never, I would never leave you. You'd have to fuckin' drag me out yourself, actually-"

You laughed.

"-I'm... I wouldn't leave you," he spoke gently, eyes dipping to your stomach -there was nothing there yet, "-'specially not now."

"You're not upset?" You echoed, something shaking in your voice -he frowned at the noise, loosely pushing forward to kiss you.

His mustache tickled your lip. It was something short and sweet, warm, and sent something fluttering in your chest.

"'Course not," he hummed, hands lowering to flatten on your stomach, a smile flashing across his face, "-Actually am rather happy."

"Yeah?" Your voice cracked out, tears finally leaving your eyes -his thumbs were quick to wipe them, "-You are?"

"Very," he laughed, something of tears in his own eyes -you only smiled brighter.

"Even," you started, suddenly, "-Even with your line of work? That... You can't have a family with-"

"I'll stop," he blurted out, rash and without thought but still genuine, "-'Ave to finish a few things, tie up some loose strings but I'll... I'll stop. We can live off my money for awhile."

"Tangerine," you let out a breath, "-I can't ask you to-"

"You're not," he interrupted, bubbling up like he couldn't stop talking.

"What about... What about these nine months? Are you-" you paused, before rewording, "-Are you going to be here?"

"God, am I going to be here," he let out a weepy sort of laugh, "-I'm not leavin' your fuckin' side darling."

"What about-"

"What nothing, love," he interrupted again, now holding your face again, and he was crying you realized, "-I'm goin' to take care you. Everyday. No one can fuckin' stop me-"

"What about the danger?" You spoke, rational and clear -it was your baby, after all.

"Lemon'll move in," he said -firm and direct, "-and God forbid anyone try and get their hands on you, love. I'll rip 'em to fuckin' shreds-"

"Okay, okay," you laughed, slipping your hands over his shoulders -trying to calm him, "-I think we get it, Tan."

"We," he muttered, a little mystified -grin so wide it almost hurt to look at as he sunk to crouch in front of you, pressing his forehead to your stomach.

"Yeah, we," you reiterated, smiling big and wide.

He heaved a deep breath into your stomach, holding himself there for a minute. A bit like he needed it. You didn't mind.

And as he whispered against your stomach tiny little promises that you knew he would keep, you wondered why you ever thought he would leave you. He may be a dick sometimes, but he's not... he would never.

"I'm gettin' you a fuckin' ring."

Yeah, you thought to yourself, I'll be just fine.

#bun in the oven #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x y/n #tangerine bullet train

[prettyboykatsuki]

take it from me | barou shouei ft. isagi yoichi

✮ tags ; gender neutral / fem!reader + afab!reader (reader is referred to as girlfriend but uses they/them pronouns), cucking, petnames (baby, beautiful), fingering, dry-humping, breeding (mentions of getting someone pregnant and kids etc.), 18+ 

✮ wc ; 2.7k 

✮ synopsis ; barou doesn’t like anything isagi has planned for him, but he never backs down from a fight either. 

✮ a/n ; a fic a beloved anon commissioner has allowed me to post! also... if i had a nickel for every time i wrote a fic with isagi cucking someone... i'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's weird that it happened twice right

It’s easy to get on Barou’s nerves. 

But it’s hard to get under his skin. 

Very hard. Harder than most people actually understand, because people get a kick out of riling him up. They often get upset when he realizes and stops being mad at all. Surface level frustration is commonplace for Barou, but that skin deep stuff is hard to come by.  And whatever does get him truly angry is usually justifiable, understandable. Strangers don’t make this distinction about him but he knows it to be true. 

It’s rare, unusual - to get under his skin so fucking consistently. 

But Isagi always does. 

That shitty little egoist has a talent for bothering him with his antics. Every person who’s ever told Barou off for being egotistical doesn’t know shit about shit. They don’t know the kind of egoism Isagi bears, the kind that’s subtle until it isn’t. Until it’s in your face at your lowest, opportunistic and evil. 

He’s fine off the field. Almost innocent when they sit around together for a drink. Off the field, he blushes when he gets any advances and doesn’t carry that same energy. But Barou knows better, can’t let his guard down because when everyone is distracted it slips. Barou sees the way Isagi looks. Plans. Manipulates for what he wants. He should’ve been able to guess that Isagi’s bet on their last match was a ploy to get something he wanted. 

But Isagi knows in what way he can push Barou’s buttons. So after carefully placed insults and pushes, a bet was made. 

If Isagi’s team won their next match, he got to fuck Barou’s girlfriend. In front of him. 

Of course his first answer was fuck no. Barou’s not stupid, wasn’t planning on giving that shitty little brat an inch because Barou knew he’d take a mile. Isagi, though, got under his skin. Pushed and pushed, making digs about Barou being worried about you. Isagi knows that Barou is confident in his soccer, as much as he is in his feelings - but Barou can’t let up to that kind of push. Can’t allow Isagi to think for even a minute he can’t satisfy you. In a fit of anger, Barou says he’ll agree if you do. 

And to his surprise, you do - but you’re demure about it. Not that you need anyone but Barou, you assure, but you do want to support his confidence in himself. Sweet thing like you always are, gentle with batted lashes and a hand on his chest. 

Barou loves you, would’ve said fuck no again if you showed even the slightest bit of hesitation. Instead, you looked up at him with clear eyes and a gentle smile. 

Fine. Barou agrees to play Isagi’s shitty game. He’ll win the next match and it’ll be over.

Except, he doesn’t win.

It’s a close match, but Isagi’s team manages to get one goal in - Isagi himself striking it into the net. As soon as it’s called, only seconds before the last buzzer goes off, Isagi looks at Barou directly. Grins as he scores, smiles like Japan’s sweetheart when everything is over. 

Barou wouldn’t go as far as describing his feelings as dread. Dread implies that he’s lacking confidence. It’s more like he was pissed. Pissed that Isagi got his way, pissed that the match was so fucking close, pissed as he was relaying the news to you on the way home. A nightmare of a situation - ultimately. 

But Barou is a man of his word. 

And as man of his word, Barou puts you three in a groupchat with Isagi. There’s some hoopla about getting to know each other. Barou can appreciate Isagi’s efforts to make you comfortable, despite knowing it’s bare minimum. There’s something real about his approach, his desire. Isagi wants to fuck you as you, as much as he does because you’re Barou’s girlfriend. He just wants you, and Barou isn’t entirely sure what to make of that. 

He isn’t sure if that makes his fuck-up worse or better. But he’s here now, and there’s nothing he can do. 

He doesn’t really know what to do with his hands. He’s supposed to just watch, and he has some qualms about jacking off while you’re being fucked by someone else. It’s weirder to be in his position though, to just sit and look on as Isagi lays hands on you. 

Barou loathes knowing Isagi’s preferences, loathes even more that they have similar tastes. You’re wearing white lace and thin straps and mascara that isn’t waterproof per request. You're beautiful in a way that Barou knows to be normal for you, but still feels impressed by. 

And Isagi is there. 

While Barou is looking at you, eyes fixated on your silhouette - your expression is turned to Isagi. Bright eyes, fluttery lashes, lips that are parted and pouty. Your hands are clamped up at your sides, thighs trembling. You’re nervous, it’s written all over your face. Isagi is hovering over you - speaking in quiet whispers until you smile or laugh. He gets you comfortable with the way he talks, much faster than Barou could’ve in a situation like this. He’s a people person, notably. Barou can’t hear what Isagi is telling you so secretively. 

But it must have something to do with him, given the way you glance over at him and Isagi turns your face gently back his way. He’s not a participant here, not playing on the field. He’s a fly on the wall, a watcher - a passive one, and he isn’t sure if it’s too early or not to be pissed. 

“Shouei,” You whisper despite Isagi’s efforts to make you forget him. Barou stills “It'll be okay.” 

Barou breathes out at you, softening his features. Isagi’s touch on your body doesn’t make him lunge out of his seat this time. 

Isagi kisses you when Barou is looking. From where he’s sitting, he can see it clearly. You crane your neck up like you usually do when you kiss, and Isagi has a hand around the side of your face. He doesn’t know what to think, what to feel - so he focuses on you. 

Your lips part, and Isagi puts his tongue in your mouth. Puts his tongue in and nips, laps at the gloss of your mouth until you give in. Your hands clasp around the end of Isagi’s shirt, a flash of innocence. 

It’s an explicit way to kiss, lewd. Suggestive. Barou thinks this is intentional. He can’t wrap his head around why Isagi would want to fuck you dirty other than his own preferences. But there’s more to it. So much more underneath the surface of his desire that makes Barou want to get up and punch his lights out. 

But he doesn’t. He keeps his hands tucked at his side, and watches as you squirm. There’s something dirty about the desperation in your every gesture. Isagi keeps kissing you as he slowly undoes you. 

He starts with kissing your jaw after thoroughly making your head blank. Isagi lets his lips trail over the corner of your mouth, the angle of your jaw, the space where your shoulder meets your neck. There’s no romance laced in it, only lust. Your face twists with each bite and his hands make quick work out of touching you in every place other than where you need. He breaks you apart in careful, calculated moves. Exploits all your sensitivities. His hands squeeze the softness of your chest, groaning at the way it feels in between his fingers. 

He teases your nipples, flicking and rubbing them until you’re wiggling away from the feeling. He licks and bites at the tender flesh, sucking harsh enough to make a wet sound. 

Barou busies himself with counting all the differences, and measures his own touch up to it. How different it is. The way Isagi is touching you lacks delicacy, finesse. 

There are a few moments where you pause, glancing at him to say something. But when Isagi touches you, you can’t get the words out. His groping isn’t very romantic. 

But you like it, don’t you? You do.  It’s in your face. In your blissed out eyes, and the subtle flutters of your tummy and the legs wrapped around Isagi’s waist when he humps you. Ruts the hard shape of his cock against your clothed, wet cunt and makes you whimper like you’ve been hit. He’s groping you like he’s only known sex from dirty magazines or porn on DVD, but you like it. You’re so engrossed in the feeling that every word you have for him dies in your mouth, gets washed away by your desire. 

Isagi makes a show out of humping you, once you both get into it. The two of you break apart only briefly. He peels his shirt back as he sits up on his knees, pulls his pants down enough to just be in his boxers. He lets his hard cock rest against your pussy, still in his boxers. Gripping your thighs, he thrusts - slow and deliberate until the tip pushes into your swollen clit. You cry out, your hands still fisted and trembling around your size. Isagi narrates this time, loud enough for Barou to hear. The sound of his voice grates on Barou’s nerves. 

“You’re so fucking wet,” He punctuates, laughing - harshly at that “Do you like when I’m a little mean?” 

Your hands curl, and you clam up - but Isagi doesn’t let you shy away. Instead he keeps thrusting his hips over and over, gripping your jaw to make you look up at him. Your eyes are blown so wide, wetness pooling at your lashes as the sensation drives you over. Barou would’ve touched you by now, but Isagi does not. 

“That brute is a gentleman to you, huh. I’m a little surprised.”  Isagi says conversationally, making Barou’s whole body tense. “But you look like you need to be fucked a little mean. I almost want to make you cry.” 

Barou goes to interject, he wants too - but you moan. And Isagi laughs at you again. 

“Is that what you want? Hm? Want me to fuck you?” 

“Hngh, please.” Your voice nearly breaks as you whimper “Wan’ you to fuck me.” 

Shit. Barou is hard. 

Isagi grins “That’s what I like to hear,” 

Isagi moves, pulling himself away from you. He lifts your legs to take your panties off, and tosses them somewhere carelessly before sitting back. He spreads your legs, coating his middle fingers with saliva before positioning himself. 

He hovers over as he lets his fingers dip down to your cunt, brushing over your swollen clit. He ignores your cry out from neglect. You wrap your arms around his neck as he keeps himself upright with free hand, kissing you softly as he starts to finger you. He doesn’t give you room to breathe, doesn’t let you pull away as his fingers start to stretch you open. You mewl at his ministrations, paw at him and kiss him desperately. There’s such a whiny quality to your moaning, one that Barou has only ever heard in bits and pieces before this.  

He watches as one finger scissors you open then another. You take it well, don’t complain even Isagi takes his sweet time pressing up against your soft spot. Once you’re all stretched and light headed, he kisses the corner of your mouth. 

“Now you’re ready for me,” Isagi mumbles, looking you over “Gonna fuck you nice and full, yeah? Wanna let him see you?” 

Dazed, you nod. Barou goes to ask what he fucking means by that, but the words never make it out. He watches instead, as Isagi maneuvers you to roll onto your side. 

While Isagi comes to lay behind you. The angle you’re at gives Barou a perfect front view of your body, down the smallest details. He can see the traces of saliva left on your skin, the soft indents of marks. Everything stops, his breath hitching as he gets an eye full of your face. Sheer bliss on your features, shining with a sheen of sweat. Your eyes are glossed over, glassy. 

Before Barou can think at all, he finds a hand at his waist - rubbing his cock through the fabric of his pants. Isagi’s arm circles around your middle as his chin rests on your shoulder. You pick your leg up to give him easier access to you. 

Barou watches intently as Isagi’s cock pushes against your entrance. Your tight hole stretches around the swollen tip as your voice starts to tremble. Isagi curses behind you, quiet as he eases himself inside. He fills you up deliberately, inch by inch pushing into your hot cunt until he’s all the way bottomed out. Your eyes are nearly rolled back into your head from bliss, mouth agape and drooling. Isagi lets his hand travel down to your clit, his middle finger rubbing soft circles into the bundle of nerves. He bottoms out with a deep sigh. 

“Fuck, that feels so good,” Isagi groans, pulling out before pushing in again in one thrust “Makes me wanna cum in you so bad, fuck.” 

Barou can see how much the words affect you. Isagi must feel it. 

“Shit, you want that, huh?” He laughs, breathless and entertained by your desire. He fucks up into you now, starts his pace off slow - the sound of your pussy filling up the room “Want me to cum in you instead of pull out? Give you a baby?”

You gasp, shudder at the prospect. Isagi is fucking you raw, where Barou is almost always using condoms. He should be pissed beyond what he thought possible, and some part of him is. But another part of him, even quieter, is fixated on the pure pleasure you’re getting out of it. Out of being fucked raw by someone who’s basically a stranger. 

Isagi, ever the egoist, sees the opportunity and runs with it. He fucks into you harder, gives it to you deeper with a vicious smile. 

“I’ll knock you up, beautiful. Want it so bad, of course I’ll fuck it right into you,” Isagi croons, his voice edging on sadistic but mostly saccharine sweet “Hear that, Barou? Aren’t you lucky, ‘m giving your girlfriend a winner's baby. Maybe you could teach ‘em to play soccer.” 

Barou feels his own irritation bubble into his throat - but he can’t be fully angry when you look the way you do. When your whole body tenses and trembles every time Isagi thrusts his cock into you, like you’re practically begging for him to breed you full. No matter what Isagi does, it’s not like Barou could ever be agitated with you, and god - you look like you feel good. 

Your voice is choked out as Barou watches you get tipped over the edge. He feels his own cock twitch from neglect, but refuses to let himself go any further. Despite how painful it is to not touch himself. You reach for the sheets as your eyes go wide, fluttering back into your skull. 

“Gonna cum, Isagi, Isagi” Your voice is hoarse and trembling “S-somethin’ gonna come out.” 

Isagi keeps pace, fucking you how you need. 

“Let’s cum together, yeah? Cum with me so your pussy can swallow up all of it, make sure you’re bred nice and full.” 

You nod dumbly and hold it in despite yourself, and Barou watches you as you make a mess. Watches all of your arousal drip and stain the sheets as Isagi fucks you, how you’re so wet you nearly push him out. You bite your lip and take his cock like it’s nothing, his grip on your waist nearly bruising. Your shoulders sag with relief as he finally gets close. 

“Shit, I’m gonna cum,” He warns, then a little softer “Let’s cum together? Cum with beautiful.” 

Barou watches you as you. You cum and you cum hard, hard enough that your eyes squeeze shut and your whole body tightens before breaking out into trembles. You’re convulsing as you pull away from his cock, a wet rush spilling as you finish. Isagi groans as you squirt all over him and the sheets, the mess of his seed mixing as you lay down. 

You nearly collapse into the bed beneath you, trembling as Isagi kisses your shoulder. Then for the first time, he looks over to acknowledge him. 

“It’d be rude to give them just one right?” Isagi says, giving Barou a cocky glance “Don’t hold it in so much.” 

“Fuck you,” Barou curses, groaning. 

It’s gonna be a long, long night. 

#barou x reader #isagi x reader #barou smut #isagi smut #bllk x reader #writing tag

[duchess-kyuupid]

Can you do one where the twst boys are walking with Fem!reader to class or something and reader trips but instead of getting up they just lie there contemplating life and acting like everything is falling apart but they as just being dramatic for the hell of it-

Crack and fluff basically lol

It doesn't matter who just whoever you like writing the most! Thank you ❤️

Of course! I'm going to do three characters who I thought would fit the scenario the best <3 Thank you for being my first request dearie!

Ik it says fem!reader, but I didn't use any pronouns or anything so it can be read as gender neutral :)

~ Twst Men with an overdramatic Reader Falling Down~

[Ft. Rook, Idia, and Sebek]

Rook

- In a moment of weakness on your part, you had asked Rook to help tutor you in the basics of etiquette in this world. Namely, you were just curious about the differences between your world and theirs- for example you mentioned once in a passing comment that it was common curtesy to open doors for people, even strangers, if they were going to be coming in after you. You've even done so when you were walking into class with some people behind you, but all that resulted in was weird looks from your classmates. And not even a thank you! And I mean, it's not like you were expecting to get a thank you, but at the very least, those people could try acting a little more polite! You recounted this story to Rook and he laughed, saying that such a courtesy is not only seen as a lowly servant's job, but it's also the fact that everyone at NRC are mages, so most people will just open the door with magic. - Anyway, so that's how you ended up here, receiving a lecture from Rook about etiquette and the importance of being elegant and beautiful- even more than you already are, at least. - You've been here for hours now, and your initial curiosity has basically evaporated into boredom with a strong longing to just go back to Ramshackle and relax. But you knew there was no way you were going to be able to escape, not with a hunter like Rook keeping his eyes on you like a hawk. - "Ah, mon coeur, it appears as though you've stopped listening! Non, non, mon beauté, this simply mustn't do! Why don't we practice something a little bit more engaging? Some dance lessons shall do just fine, allez!" - And then suddenly you were dragged out of your comfy chair as Rook leads you to the middle of the room to start his lesson with you. He's clearly been enjoying this, with the big smile that hasn't left his face since you've walked in. - So, despite how tired you feel, you accept his proposal to dance. I mean, how could you say no to his face which smiles so brightly that it puts even the sun to shame? - But of course, you also didn't really have the heart to tell Rook that you've never danced before- at least not like this. This formal type of dancing, with Rook's hand settled on your waist and gently holding your other as you two sway to the non-existent music- you don't have very much experience with it, not at all. - So it was only natural that you got stuck staring at Rook's face, again not paying attention to the words that he was speaking about how to waltz elegantly. Your body followed his movements and words on instinct, like you were stuck in a trace just so that you could focus on the one thing that was most important right now: him. - Alas, all good things must come to an end. While you were busy shamelessly staring at Rook as he led your dance, you tripped over your feet and landed face first on the floor. ....Why are we here, just to suffer? - You made no movements to get up, if only to hide the embarrassment ridden on your face. - "Rook, I think this is the end for me...Tell my wife I love her," you made a fake coughing noise, "And delete my search history." - God, how did you even get here? Falling to the floor is literally the last thing you want your crush to see you doing, and yet here you were- your only salvation is to joke about it and hope that Rook doesn't think of you any less for your terrible dancing skills. - But as you were wallowing, Rook simply smiles and picks you up off of the floor with a chuckle. You stare at him in surprise at his strength, as he literally just treated you as if you were as light as a stick. -"Oh là, là, mon beauté! Your dancing skills are truly magnifique! Especially for a first time, I must say you glided through the floor like you were the epitome of dance!" He says as he inspects you for any injuries, making sure to dust off and straighten your clothes in the process. "Vraiment élégante! S'il te plaît, mon coeur, dance with me again!" - Honestly, if your face could get any redder, it would. This man is going to kill you one day if you don't get your pounding heart under control.

Idia

- It was one of those rare days in which Idia was forced to go to class in person, and the two of you were literally watching the clock and counting down the time for the lunch bell to ring. - As it so happens, there was a new, special event that was only going to go live for 24 hours, but the gacha pool only had a limited amount of units that were going to be released per server. - If you two didn't hurry, then everyone else was going to snag this thing and you two would be left with nothing! Nothing but crushed hopes and dreams after months of saving specifically for this day. - Of course, Idia lost his chance to get it in class when Professor took his phone and chewed him out for using it during his lecture, and you didn't have the game downloaded on your phone yet (you really only played it when you were hanging out with Idia in his dorm room, after all). But you were both determined to get it. - When the clock strikes 12, the two of you were going to bolt out of there and make a break for his dorm room to hopefully make it in time. Idia would have to get his phone back later, right now the surest bet would be at his dorm, where he keeps several different computers so that you can try to get the thing too. - 11:58.....11:59.... 12:00!!! - The bell rings and the race to his room begins! - Alas, neither of you could really straight up run there, because if you got stopped by a hall monitor or a teacher, then that would be the end. So you two decided that the best way to go about it was to speed-walk there. - Oh, but you had almost forgotten about how enormously tall Idia is. His version of a "speed-walk" is basically your sprinting pace. You'd never notice because most of the time he's slouching, but this man stands at (183 cm/6'), and his legs are just so ridiculously long that you couldn't help but to fall behind simply because you weren't running. - And Idia notices this too, so in an attempt to help you, he decides to pinch at a loose piece of your clothing (this was already going out of his comfort zone, so don't expect him to just outright initiate physical contact without asking) and drag you forward to meet his pace. - Unfortunately, he failed to think his plan entirely through, as his grip on your clothes were not very tight and you were not expecting to be dragged like that. To make matters worse, the halls were also getting crowded as people were making their way to the cafeteria. - Long story short, Idia lost his grip, and you tripped over, getting lost within the crowd of people at the same time. Idia stops to look behind him in surprise to see you getting swallowed into the mob with a terror-stricken face. - "Go, Idia! This is your chance!" you cry out with fake tears escaping your eyes, "You're gonna have to leave me behind, but don't worry, I'll catch up with you. I won't die here...." You give him a tearful thumbs up as the surrounding students calmly walk around you. - He salutes you with tears in his own eyes, "Your sacrifice will not be forgotten." And he turns around to start full-on sprinting towards his destination. - And you stay there on the floor for another second before chuckling when you come to a certain realization: - "I have now both literally and figuratively fallen for him now, haven't I?"

Sebek

- Sebek, being the gentleman that he is, has decided to walk you back to Ramshackle after learning about Malleus' fondness towards the human who calls him 'Hornton.' - Of course, this has become a regular occurrence for the two of you now. Sebek still walks with you under the guise of making sure that you're not a threat to Malleus, but that's only because he doesn't know how to admit that he's become fond of you too. - The two of you were joking around, generally enjoying each other's company on your walk back home, when all of a sudden you find yourself falling to the ground. - You honestly have no idea what had happened to get you here, but what you do know is that following the few seconds after, Sebek is already yelling at the top of his lungs and interrogating the surrounding students who were unlucky enough to have seen you fall over. - "YOU! DID YOU TRIP THEM ON PURPOSE?" - So you just stayed on the floor, pitying the poor people he began to yell at for basically no reason as you began debating with yourself on the purpose of life. - For the most part though, you were just waiting to see how long it would take Sebek to stop for a moment to realize that you were still on the floor. - Ironically enough, it was when he started interrogating some other people when the ones who he just chewed out came over to you to ask if you were alright and if you needed help standing back up. - "WHAT ARE YOU DOING SO CLOSE TO THEM?? BACK AWAY THIS INSTANT, HUMAN!" Sebek yells (when is he not yelling?), this time actually scaring off the people he was just accusing of tripping you. - "ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" - "No, I think I must've broken my back falling for you." - "I'LL TAKE YOU TO THE INFIRMARY THIS INSTANT, AND THE ONES WHO DID THIS WILL NOT GET OFF LIGHTLY!" and just like that, your pick-up line is ignored as Sebek picks you up and begins to run over to the infirmary. Literally the only thing that you could think of now is the fact that, even if you weren't joking and you had actually broken your back, Sebek would probably have made it worse because this is definitely not the correct way to carry someone who's broken their back. In fact, you think, I don't think you're even supposed to pick them up in the first place. - Well, you wanted to tell Sebek that you were fine, that you were just messing with him when you said that. But at the same time, you kinda liked the feeling of having Sebek carrying you like this. It was rather comfy. - "Sebek, I have a first aid kit at Ramshackle that has some things that could help. It's closer than the infirmary, so let's just go there," you say, adjusting yourself so that you were more comfortable leaning against him. - He looks down at you and notices your peaceful-looking face- a face that does not say "help me I've just broken my back and I am in immense pain," and he finally takes a moment to think back on what you said earlier when he asked if you were alright. - With a dramatic gasp, his face flushes pink as he realizes what you had actually meant to say, and in his surprise, he accidentally lets you go too. - "Hey! Was that really necessary?" you pout as you fall to the ground, again, for the second time today. You look up from the ground to see his flustered face and you catch on that he finally figured out what you told him earlier. - "Sorry! You just caught me by surprise," Sebek states, his voice sounding quite meek in comparison to how it was earlier. - "You're going to have to make it up to me for dropping me like that, you know," you say, standing up and dusting yourself off lightly, "And my price is that you carry me back the rest of the way. That's the only way to make things even." - With a flushed face, Sebek nods and picks you up again, this time he became much more aware of how close he was holding you, but he noticed that, strangely enough, he didn't have any problems with it.

Just thinking about how many seagulls it would take to drown out the sound of Sebek's voice lol I'm thinking around 78, honestly

~~~~~~~~~

Sorry for being a little late with your ask! I was hoping to post this for Valentine's day but then work and college decided to drag me through the mud for a bit </3 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed, and thank you for reading!

#sebek #sebek x reader #sebek zigvolt #twst #twst headcanons #twst imagines #twst x reader #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #rook #rook x reader #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #idia #idia x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader #duchess kyuupid #Kyuupid's asks

[allthoseotherworlds]

Okay, here's what I am imagining after that weird male-presenting timelord scene. Please imagine Sylvie and Shaun just standing awkwardly to the side the whole time. Also on AO3.

“It's a shame you're not a woman anymore,” Donna was saying, “‘cause she'd have understood. We've got all that power - but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.”

The Doctor watched, confused, as Donna and Rose released the metacrisis energy. He wasn't confused about the release of the energy, of course, now that it had been pointed out as an option. He was so, so grateful that there was a way out of this, a way not to lose the friend he cared so much about and had always regretted losing.

But.

He watched as the remains of golden regeneration energy fizzled away into the air, then turned back to Donna and Rose.

“That's incredible! The metacrisis energy was too much for one person to release, but split between two, it's reduced enough to be let go without damage. Brilliant!” He paused. “I'm not sure what gender has to do with it though?”

“Oh, you know,” Donna said. “It's just…” she paused. “I always heard that woman are more emotionally mature, that sort of thing.”

“Actually,” Rose said thoughtfully, “I'm not sure that's true. I've known plenty of women who could use more emotional maturity. Think about Nerys-”

“Oh, that woman!” Donna grumbled. “You may have a point.” She turned back to the Doctor. “It's still not something you'd ever come up with though. I guess I assumed it's because you're a man now.”

“Am I?” The Doctor asked. He didn't know why he said it, really. He mostly let humans assume what they wanted, and it mostly didn't bother him. But it was Donna, and she was clearly accepting and loving towards Rose, and this face seemed much worse at hiding things than his last.

“Well, aren't you?” Donna said. “I mean, you've never corrected anyone.”

“I guess we never did ask your pronouns,” Rose said. “But when you assumed he for the Meep I guess I assumed that meant you were a man.”

“Most people do. The Doctor said. Mostly I let them.”

“But…?” Donna asked gently, and the Doctor was suddenly so proud of her and Rose and the loving relationship they had with each other.

“Well, you know,” the Doctor ran a haha through his hair. “I'm just… the Doctor. Sometimes people think I'm a woman, and sometimes people think I'm a man, and I'm not really either. I'm just the Doctor. I know what humans are like, in this time period, so I mostly use “woman” or “man” because it's what people expect. But it's not… it's not some fundamental thing about me, a defining trait or experience. It's just something to go along with. It's just how other people treat me, not something I am.”

Donna nodded, thoughtfully, but it was Rose who spoke.

“You do… know that gender normally is something people experience and feel strongly about?” she said. “I mean, that's why I'm trans - I just feel it inside. It's not about how other people see me.”

“I'm not sure I've ever felt that,” the Doctor said. “Like I said, I'm just… me. Everything else is just other people.”

“I'm sorry for assuming,” Donna said. “What about pronouns? Do you have a preference?”

“Oh, I don't think so,” the Doctor said, mostly by reflex, before stopping. “Actually, of the available options in English, I think ‘they’ is most accurate. But like I said, it's not that important to me. I just brought it up because,  I don't know, I guess I just wanted you to know.”

“Well, now we know,” Donna said. “Thank you, Doctor.”

“Thank you,” the Doctor said. “Both of you.”

This face was more emotionally open, but even it had its limits apparently, and the Doctor shook themself off and gestured at the exit to the unit compound. “Now, shall we go find the Tardis?”

#Doctor Who #The Star Beast #Doctor Who Stories #Nonbinary Doctor #I am talking

[video-game-kids-tournament]

MEET YOUR CONTESTANTS!

TW: Kidnapping + ableism

Your Turn to Die spoilers under the cut!

Name: Gin Ibushi

Age: 12

Gender + Pronouns: Boy, he/him

Video Game: Your Turn to Die

Backstory: “During almost his entire life has been monitored to take part in a death game, and after being put in it has been very useful. More useful than some adult characters even. He also is canonically autistic, which I think is really cool”

• “Spoilers for the game! So Gin, along with everyone else was kidnapped to be a part of the death game. He was monitored by them too (he is also canonly autistic!). Gin is one of three characters who's still alive no matter what choice you make, and the only kid who you can't kill without getting a game over.”

• “Autistic furry gets trapped in a death game for reasons unknown as of January 2nd 2024, and was recruited by his therapist whom he trusted but turned out to be the one recruiting people for the death game.”

• “Has an alcoholic father but a really supportive and sweet mom. Autistic and forced into ABA-adjacent therapy through Midori, who tricked him into signing a consent form and joining the Death Game. He has seen many killed before his eyes during the Death Game and was even a teenager’s therapist.”

• “After being kidnapped by Asunaro, Gin Ibushi has been forced to participate in the “Death Game” along with 10 others. He quickly becomes attached to Sara Chidouin, the main character, and tries his best to help how he can.”

• “(spoilers) diagnosed with autism at a young age and was unable to make friends due to always wearing this costume of a dog (he feels weird without it). sent to the school counsellor where he claimed he could “cure” his autism (for the record the game does not support the idea of “curing” autism, the counsellor is like the big bad). also i think his mom is sick and i know his dad is a drunkard. (not spoilers anymore) then he got kidnapped and forced to play a death game!!!”

Why should they win the tournament?: “Has a nickname for every character, ranging from "Big sis Sara" to "muscle gorilla". Ends all his sentences with either a bark or a meow. Has a plushie in a form of a cat, called Mew-chan which mimicks his expressions and is said to be a able to talk to him. This isn't really explained. Mew-chan is also Gin's best friend. Very funny. During a period in a game where there are a lot of mini games, he gives the main character extra lives when he is chosen as a partner

• “Gin has claws, determination and would totally win.”

• “Because Gin is top tier baby and lowkey was one of the most helpful and brave characters out of YTTD. Like. Lowkey more useful than some of the adults. Also took two straight injections of poison (unwillingly) for an adult who was a cowardly bitch. Also not afraid to make fun of adults. That boy may be mean but damn can he meow!”

• “I love him. Also, a win for autism”

• “Autistic Icon (CANON), Catboy, best baby boy ever, we all love him, he says meow a lot, he calls every woman he meets Big Sis, he has a plushie named Mew-Chan who is actually a dog, he hates alcohol despite he name, HE’S SURVIVED A DEATH GAME (One of THREE!!! survivors out of TWENTY!!)”

• “he is literally the best depiction of a 12-year-old in any media ever, he is genuinely good representation, and he’s so strong in the game”

#video game kids tournament #contestant info #your turn to die #yttd #gin ibushi #yttd spoilers #tw kidnapping #tw ableism

[genderkoolaid]

It’s weird because I love my non-binary and genderfucked siblings, I have two friends who have “weird” “cringe” genders and I love them and I think they do gender so well. But I’m scared that by “demolishing” the gender binary, I won’t get to be a binary man anymore. What does that mean? I want people to see me on the street and think “he/him”, I want people to think of me as heterosexual when I show affection to my girlfriend. I want to be a binary man, and I don’t know how to do that in non-binary world

Playing with gender and fucking with it is good and I fully support people doing that. But I do not want to be seen as anything other than Pure 100% man, I have been constantly called “they” as a way to undermine my masculinity and refusal to gender me properly by people who know my pronouns. I don’t want to be seen as anything other than a Man. I want to be associated fully with masculinity, I don’t want to seen as a lesbian, I don’t want to be seen as anything other than a heterosexual man. Not even that I don’t want to be seen as a lesbian, I don’t want to be associated with lesbians. I’m a trans man, I’m a MAN and my attraction to women is heterosexual, and I cannot accept ideas that tell me otherwise because that would cause me to misgender myself, and I’m tired of being seen like that When I say I’m a man I don’t mean “butch boy girl lesbian” etc etc, if someone wants to be that and fuck up everything, I appreciate it, but I feel uncomfortable with them saying they’re a trans man because when I say I’m a trans man I mean a MAN as in binary man

I think its very good that you started this by acknowledging that this is a product of fear and anxiety. Its important to understand that that is where this is coming from.

You are insecure about your manhood. That is not an insult. Its entirely understandable to feel that way, especially as a trans man. There was a post a little while ago where I talked about how trans men can fall into toxic masculinity, not because its a product of being a man, but because trans men more than cis men (solely in terms of gender) have their manhood scrutinized and devalued. Manhood is a rat race & trans men are fucked over from the start, so we have to try 10x harder to be seen as Proper Men. That leads to a constant pressure to perform "proper" masculinity to the fullest extent possible to try and avoid having your manhood discredited, which can be not only emotionally damaging but legitimately dangerous.

But you need to understand, and I say this with love: this is a you problem. It is not other people's responsibility to change how they identify to soothe your insecurity about your manhood. Other people's identity, in fact, means nothing about your own. Someone else using a label you use to represent a different experience does not mean you must also share that experience, or that you cannot use that label to describe your own.

You are, understandably, fearful that your manhood (which is already constantly being scrutinized and attacked), will be further devalued if "trans man" can also mean "lesbian". You share a community and a label with those men and as a result, their genderweirdness feels dangerous. They feel like a threat to your being. This is not dissimilar to how cishet men react to visibly queer men in their communities and families: "how will people think of me, as a man, if they associate me with a man like that? I need to stop him from being a man or make him be a man right in order to protect my own manhood." This is how the patriarchy functions; make every man constantly compete with each other, under the threat of violence if they fail. Its not your fault you feel this way- you are made to feel this way on purpose because of the patriachal panopticon that makes us self-regulate- but it is your responsibility to work on yourself and resist the urge to view other men as a threat to your manhood.

"Bi lesbians" existing does not mean that people will/should assume every lesbian is bisexual, and for men to use bi lesbians as an excuse to harass lesbians is lesbophobic but not the fault of bi lesbians. In the same way, "lesbian trans men" existing does not mean that people will/should assume every trans man is a lesbian, and people using lesbian trans men (or nonbinary people for that matter) as an excuse to misgender straight trans men is transphobic but not the fault of lesbian men. In both cases, lesbians who have felt pressured to be attracted to men and trans men who have felt pressured to be lesbians see this new fusion identity as a threat to their own as a traumatic response. That fear is valid, but we need to understand that its our own fear. Its not their fault that bigots tried to pressure you to be a certain way, and their identity does not mean that those bigots were justified in any way. Other queer people are not the enemy.

If you care about your genderweird friends- and I don't doubt that you do- its important that you recognize where this fear is coming from and take steps to confront & cope with it. I don't like when people use "fragile masculinity" as an insult; fragile masculinity is part of what keeps the patriarchy running, and men with fragile masculinity need the compassion that the patriarchy will not give them. So please know that when I say you are insecure about your masculinity, I'm not saying you are doing a Bad Thing. You have been made to have a fragile masculinity as a way of controlling you, and now you need to work on healing that in order to have productive and healthy relationships with other queer people (and people in general). You can't support other queer people while also viewing them as a threat to your own manhood, even unconsciously. It requires a process of strengthening your identity as a man and not letting anyone or anything make you feel like it can be taken away because you (or someone you are associated with) Did Manhood Wrong.

You might want to check out @gay-otlc. He's a straight trans man who's talked about the issues straight trans men face, while also being supportive of lesbian trans men, and his blog might help you out with dealing with these issues. In general when it comes to identity issues, I think its very important to see and interact with other people of your identity, especially those who are confident and able to confront/cope with bigotry in healthier ways. I wish you the best, anon.

#m. #ask box

[vrisrezis]

Aj the furry we are kissing /joking

. Reader is a furry animal like rocket . From the same place he was from too

Cw for like . Reader with internalized transphobia (kinda?) reader comes out to all the guardians individually so this kinda long

You had come to realize something, about yourself. Something you had never considered, something as to which you were unsure how to handle. Something you weren’t exactly familiar with, and you weren’t sure was exactly normal. Gender had been a topic you weren’t always the most comfortable with discussing, at least when it came to you. There was a point in time, you had considered yourself to be male, and another time you had considered yourself to be female. But as you’ve come to realize you do not find yourself comfortable with either label. You’re not sure what it could’ve been, as you find yourself comfortable with masculine compliments, feminine compliments too. However being referred to as a boy, a girl, specifically, felt uncomfortable. Rockets boyfriend, rockets girlfriend. This was something you forced yourself to shrug off, assuming this strange feeling must be related to your lack of self esteem in general. Of course you had an issue with how to presented yourself, you didn’t like yourself much at all generally speaking. You had been created by somebody else, your existence was not your own will. It’s only natural there are things you do not like about yourself, as certain things that make you… well… you, are not your choice. You were raised to be a weapon, a shield, a fighter, and yet despite all of that, despite all the power and strength you are granted it is not what you desire for yourself. Your personality shows who you truly are inside, a kind and happy soul. Not a cold heartless killing machine. Because there’s so much you do not like about yourself, this just feels like another thing about you that you wish you could change. Perhaps it has something to do with feeling like your own person, having your own will, rather than being nothing more than a pawn to someone else, rather than just some science experiment. You had built that for yourself, with the newfound family you have made. Because even with all that strength, they love you for who you are rather than for how competent you are.

On an evening where you were extremely drunk and emotional you had talked to gamora about this issue you were having, and gamora had came to a simple conclusion. “Maybe you’re neither, then. Or perhaps both.” she shrugged, “I wouldn’t say you’re agender, maybe you’re non binary.” as to which you stared at your friend blankly. “Those words aren’t in the Bible.” “Shut up and listen to me for once. Also, the hell is a Bible?” You shrug, “not sure! Pete mentioned it.”

Ever since your long conversation, you’ve come to the conclusion you’d like to be referred to as they, instead of she or he. And upon gamora using those pronouns for you, as well as gender neutral language when discussing you, you’ve found yourself significantly more comfortable in who you are. This took some time for you to adjust to but you found yourself loving it a lot. However the first step to allowing others to accept you, is accepting yourself first. Realizing that just because this way of gender expression is something you yourself never heard about, doesn’t mean it’s not a very real identity that makes people comfortable. You have had to realize the way you feel doesn’t make you weird, or a freak. There’s many people in the galaxy, it is preposterous to think there will only be two gender identities throughout the course of the universe.

“There’s… nothing wrong with me… is there..?” you ask, looking up at your best friend. She shakes her head, “No. Of course not.” She says, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I should hit you, for even thinking like that.” and that’s all you needed. Gamora was unyielding in terms of her support of you and who you are.

Next stage, which took a very long time for you to be ready for, was telling everyone about your feelings, about how you identify and how you’d like to be referred. Admittedly, you were scared. You were terrified of rejection, but you knew gamora would be right behind you and kick anyones ass that disrespected you. Especially any of the guardians.

You went to groot first, as you feared him the least. Groot was just a innocent baby, and you know he not only would accept you but he wouldn’t even question it. And upon telling him, you were correct. You explained to groot as delicately and as clear as possible that you don’t think you’re a boy, nor a girl, completely. From your understanding, despite the fact groot clearly uses pronouns like he and him to refer to himself, he doesn’t actually have a gender. He does not hold to traditional gender values that you and the other guardians may, so because of this fact groot is completely understanding. In fact for him, it’s common knowledge. It’s clear he doesn’t understand why you’re telling him this, because it should be as obvious as night and day, but regardless he shows his support and you’re thankful for the little tree.

You make him promise not to say anything yet, as you want to tell them first. Especially rocket! And the little guy agrees, albeit a bit confused as to why it’s being made such a big deal.

Next, was Mantis. Mantis is such a sweetheart, you could only hope she would also be supportive of you. If she isn’t, then you know how you feel cannot be possibly right. You feared that, if even Mantis didn’t support you there was truly something wrong with you. After all, Mantis is the one in tune with emotions. She’s the one always encouraging others to be more open about their feelings and being more vulnerable. That no feelings are bad, so long as you don’t act upon them in a negative way. You second guess yourself, as Mantis notices how much your sweating. Typically, when people like you and rocket sweat it is not noticeable, so the fact Mantis is able to notice simply by looking at you, means you’re sweating an unhealthy amount.

However, once you finally come out haha and say it, she seems relieved. “Why do you look so relieved?” you say, finally catching your breath, since you’ve been holding in so much all at once. You look so tired, just from that. Which lets gamora know that this coming out process might take more than just a day. This is something you really have to work towards. “oh, well…” mantis trails off, looking to the side before looking back at you, “I’m just relieved it wasn’t anything serious, that’s all.” her statement makes you feel even more tired. “It was serious!” “Oh…? Really? Well… I am very happy for you y/n! You have finally discovered who you truly are inside, and I’m very proud of you for opening up to me.” she says, and for a moment you forget how scared you are to tell the others. “I love you, you’re a dear friend. You’re family. But…” Mantis trails off again, and you’re almost scared for a moment. “I kinda already knew.” she says, as a matter a factly. “When I touch you, I feel your emotions, as I’ve told you many times.” she starts to explain, “one time I touched you and felt… confusion about gender expression and identity, you see. So I’ve known for quite some time.”

You sigh, “would’ve been great to know that sooner, mantis.” “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to ruin your … yknow… confession thing. It was very appreciated, I’m glad you trust me with this. I won’t tell the others, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Next on your list was quill, because for as big of an idiot that guy is, gender expression seems to be a huge thing for terrans as far as you know. They even had a whole month dedicated to people like you, and not only that, parades. “Clearly they are people that are celebrated” Gamora states, giving you more reason to open up to her boyfriend about such a matter. While you were a bit nervous, given that you told two other people, your nerves had calmed a bit in comparison to before. But seeing your friend in person, confronting him about these feelings you’ve felt for so long, you curled right back in at yourself. This was such a vulnerable position, and you could possibly be ruining the guardians as a group due to wanting to open up about feelings that can be kept to yourself. This was selfish of you to ruin something for everyone-

Gamora nudges you with her foot, given the height difference between you both she would’ve been unable to do so with her elbow. You shake your head, snapping back into reality. There was no turning back now that you’ve already began the process. You look up at your friend, who was probably expecting the worst given your nervous demeanor. You see the shock on his face as you come forth with what you’ve been wanting to say, and he shakes his head. You almost panic, before you see a smile etch Quills features. “That’s it?!” he asks, “you know I don’t care about stuff like that, y/n.” he says before patting you on the head. “Glad you came and told me though.”

Next, was the lovely drax the destroyer. To be honest, he’s one of the last people you wanted to tell simply because of his big mouth. His opinion was not one you found yourself fearing, and given how accepting everyone’s been so far you found yourself mostly at ease. However you did have to remind yourself of the people you haven’t opened up to yet.

Opening up to him proved to be less difficult, for you’ve known drax to be accepting of his family for all of their weirdness. He has never been overly judgmental. However, he seems to raise a brow at you for this information, making you regret your decision for a brief moment. “Why are you telling me this?” he asks, genuinely. “What do you mean?” you ask in turn, and he continues “has somebody been addressing you any differently?” he asks a second question, “I thought it was simply common knowledge you are not male nor female. Who shall I smash for disrespecting you?” ah, now you understand.

And finally, your boyfriend. The one you were the most nervous about. If this affected any of your relationships with the guardians at all, this was the relationship that would affected the most. Once again, you find yourself extremely nervous. And as gamora noticed, much more nervous than anyone else you’ve had to confront.

“You’ll be fine.” She reassured you. “I’ll be right outside the door” she says, wanting to respect your privacy with your boyfriend. You nod, thanking her before walking in your shared room with rocket. Groot lived in this room too, but he was out and about with quill currently.

As you strike a normal conversation with your boyfriend, he assumes things are as normal. He’s tinkering with something and you’ve come to bother him as per usual. However, something in your demeanor is off to him. He wonders if you’ve done something to possibly upset him, and are trying to break the news to him. Whenever you accidentally broke something of his, you did this. You spoke in that nervous tone and started pacing as you tried to talk about random things with him. It always ended the same. He pretended not to notice and then you’d be ridden with guilt and you’d say “rocket I have something to tell you!”

But he did not expect such urgency in your voice. The way you said it, sounded like it was much more serious. In the past, it sounded more shameful or embarrassed, this time it sounded much more than that. Like the shame and embarrassment was much deeper, stronger, and like you were genuinely afraid to tell him what it was. At that alone, he stands up, now done tinkering with a new potential bomb for him to randomly set up. He looks you in the eyes and nods for you to continue. You take a deep breathe, preparing what you were gonna say to him. You said these exact words to everyone else, it should not be any different with him.

“Rocket. Im non binary.” you simply say, as a matter a factly. “And I understand if that bothers you, but I cannot hide this part of myself any longer.”

In all honestly? He’s never seen you so serious. He can’t help but laugh, and your ears flop down for a moment at the thought of him not only rejecting you, but laughing at you. He shakes his head, “I’m laughing at you for a totally different reason hun.” he says, “I just can’t believe you seemed so scared to tell me something like this.” he laughs a bit more before grabbing your hand. “Listen, I don’t care what you identify as. Be who you are, me and you are surrounded by misfits and you think I’d care about something like this?” he asks, and suddenly you feel stupid. “I love you, as you are. And I always will. Flaws or not. Not that being non binary is even a bad thing anyway.”

You sigh, giving him a genuine smile. “Thanks rocket.”

“Anytime.”

#rocket x reader #rocket the raccoon x reader #rocket racoon x reader #rocket raccoon x reader #mcu x y/n #mcu x you #mcu x reader #marvel x y/n #marvel x you #marvel x reader

[dazzle-writes]

Can I have a romantic genshin male matchup plz

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: heterosexual ally

Zodiac: Capricorn

Appearance: 5’2 African American hourglass body (although I’m more top heavy if you know what i mean) black curly wavy hair blackish brown eyes chubby cheeks wears glasses sometimes (im far sighted so it’s usually when driving in class or at the theater)

Mbti: infj

Enneagram: 2w1

Personality: kind smart funny motherly responsible empathetic anxious emotional moody perfectionist helpful people pleaser caring compassionate nerdy curious protective polite respectful indecisive fearful nervous introvert shy awkward clumsy low self esteem low confidence (more pertaining to my talents or personality then my looks) sassy sarcastic (I’m mainly these things with people i feel comfortable with like friends or family) soft spoken cute (my friends think im cute because i can be pretty innocent plus I’m small physically)

Likes: animals books reading writing fantasy magic sci fi anime music video games friends alone time learning personality quizzes sweets and bread helping being a part of something bigger than myself

Dislikes: spiders loud sounds people who harm others people who don’t take others into consideration (like make insensitive jokes or don’t consider the comfort of others or are mean just cause they can) people i care about not caring for themselves (im a hypocrite on this i take care of everyone else but not me) not being listened to weird holes and patterns math and tests (I’m being tested for a math disability and i have test anxiety)

Love language:

Giving: acts of service gift giving and physical affection (if they’re ok with it)

Receiving: words of affirmation and physical affection (although i can be shy about it)

Extra: i pace a lot i sing when im alone i talk to myself im a picky eater (mainly with textures) i have a cat i have minor ehlers danalos (a hyper mobility disorder) but it doesn’t hurt me like it does my sisters i get abdominal migraines which is basically like a migraine but instead of headaches it’s nausea

Is it possible to have a headcanon and a scenario (fluff) if not then I’ll just take a headcanon plz

Thank you

UWA HELLO FRIEND!!! I so sorry this is like......mega uber late OREFWFEWB I started college and two jobs!!!

ANYWAYS

You seem like a very cute and soft person to be around!! I think there are many Genshin dudes you would fit with, but in particular I can see you with Alhaitham!!! Even though he is blunt and can sometimes be manipulative (I.E. his quest SOBS), I think he would be a really good fit for you!!

-I think you help him break out of his laziness a bit!! He can be a bit of a drag sometimes if he doesn't need to do something.

-Reading dates reading dATES

-The kinda man to see you eyeing a book at a bookstore and sneakily buy it for you

-I think Alhaitham's love language is like.....being a sugar daddy BUT LIKE IN A PLATONIC KINDA WAY LMFAO. Like he lets Kaveh live there at his place and charges him rent to teach him responsibility, but he would honestly get whatever Kaveh needed. He makes a shit ton of money but only uses and portion of it and just banks the rest so he's like......why would I not use it on other people.

-I hc that dendro characters are naturally good with flora so he keeps peppermint plants around y'alls room to repel spiders for you

-This man is like the biggest haver of the Tism and has so many different texture problems so he understands being picky

-Will make jokes about you both being "top heavy" with a smirk knowing that if you ever tried to say that Alhaitham, scribe of the akademiya, made a joke about his man titties no one would ever believe you

-He is really affectionate in silent ways with you!! Also a physical touch person and he has no problems in just grabbing you up and carrying you to bed to cuddle and read in silence.

-Will rub your stomach to try and help with your abdominal migraines!

-Lowkey loves when you get him gifts and stuff bc he knows you much thought you put into it, keeps everything you give him!!!

-Enjoys watching you bake. Cannot bake himself. Cooking he is amazing at but baking? Homie just can't get it

-Kaveh is your fellow sweet tooth enjoyer, and see as he lives with Alhaitham he's like.....a bonus to your relationship

One day you came home feeling a little insecure, walking into the house with a quiet sigh. Your friends had said that they had never heard Alhaitham call you cute before like they always did, and it had begun to eat away at you. You quickly found Alhaitham, reading away at his desk.

"Um......Do you think I'm cute?" You asked, cheeks red with embarrassment at asking such a silly question. You almost were about to tell him never mind when he responded.

"Of course I do. I just don't infantilize you about it." He said, not even looking up from his book. He stood and held his book in one hand, and wrapped his other around you. "You are very attractive to me."

"Oh.....Okay. You just never say it....I'm sorry, it was dumb and I-" He cut you off with a small kiss to your lips.

His taller frame felt good as he hugged you close, and he leaned back to gently brush your cheek with his fingers as he closed his book. His gaze was always rather neutral, but he had the softest smile on his face as he looked at you.

"Do you need me to say it more? I don't mind." He said, nodding when you told him yes. "Of course. I think you are very cute, love. I love when you gasp with excitement when you read books. And I really love the way your cheeks flush when I compliment you in public. And when you get excited when you give me a gift. And when-"

He kept going, listing out everything about your personality that made you cute and lovable to him. He wrapped his other arm around you as he listen them off, only stopping when Kaveh banged on the wall in the room next to you.

"He's just jealous of me." Alhaitham said bluntly, kissing your forehead. "I'm financially stable and have an amazing girlfriend."

FGFUW I HOPE U ENJOY MY FRIEND AWAWA

#razz writes #matchups #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #alhaitham #alhaitham x reader

[sunriseantebellum]

“AS ABOVE, SO BELOW” – a tasm!peter x reader au

Summary: You’re a social media manager for the Daily Bugle by day and a secret agent with the Black Cats by night. And him? As far as you know, he’s a Spyder. And a pain in your ass. → or, a spy/secret agent rivals to teammates/actually coworkers to lovers fic.

Words: 12,030 (!!! that’s a lot of love and hard work! would appreciate a comment after reading!)

🕷 A/N: my first ever tasm!peter fic, for @spidervee’s tasm!peter au event last april! a little late, but i’m so happy this fic is finally out in the world—i hope you’ll have as much fun reading it as i did writing it! (perhaps more to come? who knows!) special thanks to @darlingwendy​ who was with me every step of the way on this journey hehe.

🕸 rated t but no minors please! poc reader; gender neutral pronouns; has both other marvel characters and original characters on the side; double lives / secret identities; professional rivalry; coworkers; BANTER; kissing & suggestive themes (but all the way at the end)

mood board | full fic below & on ao3 | dividers by @firefly-graphics​​

“Are you sure you can’t join us for drinks?” Your co-worker Betty asks, leaning over your desk as you stuff your belongings into your tote bag.

You shake your head. “I got my part-time thing tonight, sorry. Next time?”

“You said that last time. You’re always working! You need to let loose and have fun. What’s the harm in living a little?”

“Mmm, because that means spending money and spending money means having less money to pay rent and I love New York and I want to keep living in it?”

Betty sighs. “Alright, good point.”

“I mean it though—the next time I’m free, I will come hang. ‘Kay?” You hold your pinky out to show you mean business.

Betty rolls her eyes but links her pinky with yours anyway. “Well, try to have some fun this weekend.”

“I’ll do my best.” You give your linked pinkies a shake before letting go.

Betty smiles, satisfied for now. “See you on Monday then.”

“See ya!” You loop your arm through the straps of your bag and make your way out the door, managing to get to the elevator before it closes.

Once it gets to the ground floor, you swipe through the biometrics and call out a goodbye to the guard at the front desk as you run off.

The Daily Bugle is a great place to work; you enjoy your job and you like your colleagues. And like you said, you love New York; you have ever since you had first seen it on TV. That’s why you moved here, and why you work at the Bugle: not just to have your finger on the pulse of what’s happening in the city and to its people, but to use the words in your power to do something about it—or at the very least, have those words inspire those with more power to make an actual change.

As for the things beyond change and beyond your power during your day job? Well, that’s why you freelance.

The real fun begins after you leave the building.

“Alright, you’re closing in. The target should be just up ahead. Door on the left.”

“Got it, Nina,” you respond to your partner on the other end of the call. “By the way, remind me to leave the next gala extraction to another agent, my feet are killing me.”

You push on the door and it’s much heavier than you expect. Big wooden doors in rich people’s homes are always heavier than most, but there’s something else about this.

With a final grunt, you get the door open. You walk inside and see a table had been pushed behind it—and two security guards were restrained on the floor, unconscious.

“What the hell?” You say under your breath.

“What’s going on?” Nina’s voice sounds in your ear.

“You didn’t spot any movement in the room before I came in, did you?”

“No, why? What’s your visual?”

“Two men—security, I think—knocked out and tied up. Looks like really thick nylon?” You lean over to get a feel, pinching and pulling at the material. “Weird, it’s sticky…”

There’s a chill in the air suddenly, and you look up to see a window left open. “Someone else was just here.”

“What? Okay, get out of th—”

“Excuse me,” a gruff voice comes in suddenly. “You aren’t allowed in here.”

Great, you think. Time to put those high school drama classes to work.

“Oh, thank God you’re here!” You cry out helplessly. “I was looking for the restroom and when I opened the door, I just saw these two men on the ground!”

You point at them shakily before bringing your hands to your chest to feign timidity. Turning to the guard with your best doe-eyed look, you pout.

“I have no idea what happened, I just drank a little too much and I really need to pee and—”

“Don’t worry, you aren’t in trouble. And the bathrooms are down the hall.” You’ve disarmed him. Good. “Did you see anything suspicious before you came in?”

“No, sir.” You shake your head. “D-do I need to call the cops, or..?” Your eyes swiftly scan the room a final time.

“That’s alright, we’ll handle it. You take care now.”

“Thank you so much!”

You rush out the door and make your way to the exit. In a calm voice, you say, “I’m headed out, bring the car back around.”

“What the hell was that? Also, how do I submit you to the next Tony’s?”

“Normally, I’d laugh at that but I’m not in the mood. Nee, we have a problem.”

“Tell me in the car, I’m pulling up to the front.”

You spot the black sedan and quickly make your way to it, opening the door and slipping in with ease as you kick off your heels.

“Welcome back. What’s the problem?”

“The nylon I mentioned earlier? Not nylon.”

“You mentioned it was sticky, what was it?”

You open your palm to reveal the piece you were able to extract earlier. “Synthetic web.”

You are very good at what you do. It’s a fact that everyone you’ve worked with (or worked against) knows. Some have even called you the best. You’ve never missed the mark on any job you’ve worked at—until tonight.

So right now, sitting in your boss’ office at Black Cat HQ, is what you can only assume being called to the principal’s office is like.

Felicia sits on her desk, arms folded. “So, who wants to tell me what happened in there?”

Nina looks at you and you nod slightly.

“We think someone may have hijacked the mission. They got to the target first. We didn’t see it coming.”

“The reason I’m not mad is that this kind of situation doesn’t normally happen to either of you. But that’s also the reason why I’m taking this very seriously. You understand?”

“Yes, ma’am,” you and Nina reply.

“Okay, continue.”

“Everything was going according to plan—Nina gave me the all-clear, but when I got to the room, it had already been compromised. Whoever was in there blocked the door and incapacitated two of the security team. I think the infiltration point was the window because it was still open when I arrived.”

Felicia nods and turns to Nina. “No cause for alarm before this?”

“No, ma’am. And I checked for any breadcrumbs left behind or any signs of hacking, but nothing.”

Felicia’s eyebrows furrow in concern. “The only one who could bypass our system that cleanly would be—”

“Another agency?” You speak up.

She turns to you. “Yes. A serious accusation. Did you find anything else at the scene that might support this?”

You nod. “Security entered before I had the chance to investigate the room fully, but I was able to verify what the two were tied up with.” You take out a folded gum wrapper where you placed the web from earlier. “It was this sticky, nylon-like material. I think it could be synthetic webbing.”

Felicia sighs, seemingly in relief, which confuses you and Nina. “You should have led with that. Alright, both of you go home.”

You and your teammate exchange a look. “What?”

“Call it a prank, the beginning of a friendly rivalry, whatever. You’ve finally got yourself an equal. It’s just a thing we do to establish rapport between two agencies.”

You feel like you might end up leaving this room more confused than when you came. “I’m sorry, I’m not understanding—”

“Oh right, that!” Nina says suddenly.

You turn to her. “Huh?”

“Goodnight, agents.” Felicia dismisses you both with a flourish of her hand, motioning to the door.

“I’ll explain on the way home,” Nina promises.

At home, you process the events that transpired on what you thought would be just a regular day of spy work. (As regular as spy work gets, you suppose.)

As it turns out, two of the best covert organizations in New York—the Black Cats (whom you work for) and the Spyders—have been maintaining an equally covert partnership over years as a means to balance out the spy “market” in the city.

The more you think about it, the more it makes sense: how else could they operate the way they do and manage to not step on each others’ toes? Or steal any of the others’ clients, for that matter. It’s pretty cool to imagine that even though both sides have done a lot of less-than-legal things in their line of work (for the good of the many, of course), there were still boundaries they wouldn’t cross. But then again, it would be wrong to think that being an agent means not having any rules.

You go to bed that night excited about what lies in store for you. Whoever this is had made the first move tonight, which means they probably think have the upper hand. Maybe they do, for now—but not for long.

For the rest of the weekend, you spend your time crawling the web (so to speak) to find out where Spyders’ next hit will be.

The thing about New Yorkers is that they love vigilantes, especially when they dress the part. Must be the theatrics of it all.

The Black Cats stick to classic catsuits, but their expertise is undercover work—you rarely see them coming since they’ve mastered the art of blending into any situation. The catsuit is usually for more critical extraction missions, where you would need to run and scale and jump and climb. Most situations required you to dress the part, like Friday’s gala event.

The Spyders’ costumes, on the other hand, are more eye-catching, typically ranging from black to blue with hints of red. Their methods are a bit flashier too—they like making it known who had bested the baddies. And as far as you know, almost all their missions were of the high-stake kind, a quick swing by and sneak out.

In other words: the Black Cats operate in the dark, while the Spyders love the attention.

It’s not a judgment call—there’s a reason why they’re one of the best in the city and it’s because that method works for them. It’s just bizarre to you that you couldn’t be any more different.

You consider this to your benefit when you come across the social accounts for ‘spydersightings’. Fairly active on both Twitter and Instagram, these accounts update in real-time and source from user submissions—exactly what you need to track the Spyders down.

You follow spydersightings using realistic-looking burner accounts (just in case) and turn notifications on. The trap is set, and all you have to do is wait.

Come Monday, you have a spring in your step when you get to your desk at 8—right on time. Betty eyes you suspiciously. “Good morning!” You greet her.

“Someone’s chipper. I guess you did end up having some fun this weekend?”

“I did, actually. Lots of reading. Very insightful.”

Betty sighs, but it’s lighthearted. “Not really my idea of fun but, whatever floats your boat.”

“Any meetings you need to sit in this morning?” You ask.

“Let me check.” Betty pulls up her calendar and purses her lips. “Hey, would you look at that—not ‘til 10.”

“Great. Wanna go grab a coffee downstairs?”

“Jeez, this is you without coffee? I’m almost afraid of what you’ll be like caffeinated.”

“Listen,” you start to say in defense, realizing you haven’t even sat down since you arrived. “This is only because I lack sleep. A couple more hours without coffee and I’ll crash on my desk. You’ll come back from your 10 o’clock with me drooling on my laptop.”

“Can’t have that,” Betty replies, getting up from her desk. “Who’s turn is it to buy?”

Opening the Notion app on your phone, you flash the page she created with a record of your shared expenses, as she calls it. “I paid last time, so it’s you today.”

You and your ‘work wife’ walk arm-in-arm and head down on the elevator. The line at the Coffee Bean is exactly what you’d expect at the ground floor of a building with several different companies whose employees would rather pay for an overpriced latte or cold brew than use the break room’s free 3-in-1 on a Monday morning. Which is perfectly fine—you’d rather be here chatting away with your friend than sitting down and working.

At your prompting, Betty tells you all about how her weekend went. You make a mental note to do your best to attend the next after-work hang—especially if it’s karaoke. You kill at karaoke.

“Regular Americano for Peter?” You hear the barista call over Betty’s voice.

“Yeah, that’s me, thanks.” In your peripheral, you see guy with dark hair and glasses make his way to the counter. He’s quite tall and fairly lean, wearing a loose flannel on top of a dark grey t-shirt paired with dark jeans and Nikes. He’s also kind of cute.

“Hey, welcome back, man! Long time no see,” the barista—Ned, you read from his name tag—says warmly. The two engage in small talk and you turn your attention back to Betty, who seems to have turned her head towards them as well.

“Who’s that?” You lift your chin in their direction.

“Oh, that’s Peter! He works in development.”

“Is he new?”

She tilts her head. “Yes and no? He was here before you, then he left for a while. Personal stuff. I think it’s only his second week back.”

You can tell she’s eyeing you and following the trail of your gaze. Then you hear her gasp all of a sudden so you turn back to her. “What—”

“Wait. You think he’s cute, don’t you? I could introduce you!” She says conspiratorially.

“What?! No!” You blurt out, almost too loudly. You calm your voice back down to a normal tone to not draw any attention. “I’m just curious. And anyway, I told you before, I don’t have time to date.”

She hums thoughtfully. “You know what, you kind of remind me of him.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Actually, we dated for a little bit and he was always crazy busy with his part-time stuff, too.”

“At least I did you the courtesy of being upfront that I can only commit to you being my work wife.”

Betty laughs. “Okay, fine. I won’t instigate anything. I’m sure your paths will cross eventually, anyway.”

“Social Media and Tech? Not likely.”

“Who knows!” She shrugs, palms in the air. “Jameson might ask for something crazy.”

“What would be crazy is if he finally ups our department’s budget.”

You finally get to the front of the line and Ned greets you with trained but genuine cheerfulness, the latter form more pronounced in Betty’s direction. You make a mental note of this while she orders a medium iced latte for herself and a large cold brew with three pumps of caramel for you. She thanks Ned and he beams before both of you move to the side to wait for your drinks to be served up.

In the corner of your eye, you spy Peter by the bussing station. He’d already finished with his coffee but was lingering for some reason, eyes scanning your area. You quickly look away, but not before you see him toss his cup and head in your direction.

“Hey, Betty! Thought that was you.” He saunters over with his arms open for a friendly hug.

Betty tiptoes slightly and crosses her arms around his back, patting the material of his jacket twice. “Pete, glad to see you back here!”

“Good to be back.” Peter catches your eyes as he lets go of Betty. “Who’s this?”

You automatically hold out your hand for a shake and tell him your name. “I head the social media department. Been at the Bugle for around six months now.”

He smiles and takes your hand in his firm grip, giving it a couple of shakes. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Yeah. You, too.” You find yourself biting back your smile so you don’t seem too pleased. Over your shoulder, you can feel Betty’s gaze. She’s probably smiling, too. You release Peter’s hand and let yours fall to your side.

He checks his watch. “Well, I gotta run. I have a 9 o’clock. But I’ll see you ladies around?” He shoots a couple of finger guns your way as he runs off.

You and Betty wave goodbye just as your drinks are served. Picking up your cold brew and giving it a swirl with your straw, you share your thoughts with an expectant Betty. “He’s… interesting.”

“Mm-hmm.” She sips on her latte and looks up at you with knowing eyes.

You roll yours. “Let’s get back to work, shall we?”

“You were the one who wanted to get coffee,” she points out. You say nothing more on the elevator ride back up.

A few days pass and nothing comes up on your radar about Spyder’s whereabouts. You even asked for a bit of extra help from Nina to use the Black Cat’s resources (authorized by Felicia, of course) to tap into police scanners—but get nothing but literal radio silence about Spyder.

Then on Thursday, a few minutes after 5 PM, your phone buzzes. At first glance, you already see the word ‘spyder’ and tap on the bubble immediately.

@spydersightings: remember when a lucky fan was able to get a photo with a spyder? #tbt @whatsupdanger, 2018

You see a blurry photo of someone in a Spyder suit flashing a peace sign swinging above a little boy. The boy is probably around 13 years old, and he’s grinning from ear to ear. You find yourself smiling and giving the post a like, despite it not being all that useful to you.

Another notif pops up then, and this one is the one you’ve been waiting for. You jump to your feet, shut your laptop down, and holler a quick goodbye to Betty.

“Gotta run!”

“Don’t work too hard!” She barely looks up from her laptop despite it being the end of the day.

Typical Betty. You add, “Same to you—go home!”

She smiles and waves you off good-naturedly while you race to the elevators.

Once you get to the ground floor, you make a call. “Nee? Meet me at HQ. I got a lead.”

“You know what,” Nina’s voice comes through your in-ears. “I just realized how funny it is that you’re being targeted by a Spyder for this… spy-valry.”

“What?” You huff, slightly out of breath from your climb. You hate buildings with broken elevators. Unfortunately, New York is chock-full of them, and mobs love to stash their loot in them.

There’s the unmistakable sound of chips crunching. “Spy rivalry. I just made it up.”

“I got that, I meant ‘what’ like—” you make a sound of exertion as you finally reach your destination, pulling the metal doors apart and pushing yourself through them—“why is it funny? And are you eating?”

“Yes.” Their mouth is full as they reply. “And it’s hilarious considering your history—”

“Out of all the groups operating in New York,” you interrupt with a whine as you catch your breath, “why couldn’t we bump into a Widow instead—or like, Daredevil or something. We’ve taken down the Kingpin’s goons several times and I haven’t seen him once. It just had to be a web-slinger?”

“What’s the problem? If I recall correctly, you liked those spider boys.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “Nee, don’t even—”

“I’m pretty sure I remember you even having a huge crush on one of them in high school. Even said something about how you wanted to fight side by side one da—”

“Okay, first of all, you know all mission comms are recorded, right? And second of all, that was like ten years ago and way before I knew about all the other cool people protecting the city,” you say defensively. “I’m on the ninth floor now by the way. Which room am I looking for?”

“903.” You switch your mask settings to night vision and make your way over while your guy-in-the-chair-slash-longtime-friend continues. “And I want it documented when you admit you had to have found it kind of cool that you’re on the same level with someone you’ve admired for years. You heard what Felicia said, whoever this is sees you as their equal!”

“Found it. Going in,” you report, taking out a retractable claw from your gloves to pick the lock. “Also, so rude of you to corner me on this knowing I’ve never lied to you in my life and never will.”

Nina snickers, satisfied. The pin inside the doorknob clicks.

“Yeah,” you admit with a smile, pushing the door open quietly. “It’s the highlight of my career.”

The door opens without a creak and you step through it, drawing your claw back into your glove.

“Whoa.”

“Confirm your visual, agent?”

“It’s quite the visual, alright.”

Right in front of you was the centerpiece of Raphael’s School of Athens painting: the iconic conversation between Plato and Aristotle.

Of course, the painting itself remains on the walls of the Vatican; this is the original sketch Raphael had drawn as a reference. It was supposed to be kept safe—and in one piece—where it was restored, at the Pinacoteca Ambrosiana art gallery in Milan. What the hell is it doing with the mob?

Whatever the reason, you know it starts and ends with it not belonging here. Art was for all of the world to see, not as some hidden treasure only exclusive to a chosen few.

You report your findings on your comms and bring out the carrying bag you had folded into your utility belt. It fits perfectly, and you send grateful vibes out to the universe that it was only a section of the masterpiece—otherwise, you wouldn’t have known how to sneak it out.

“Item acquired,” you inform your partner.

“Nice work. There’s a window in the next room, it’s not too far from the fire escape. It leads to the back alley so I’ll pick you up there. And before you ask, it can’t be opened from the outside without you breaking the glass, so your route really had to be from the ground up.”

“Thanks for clearing that up.” You’re about to head out before you spot a pad of paper and a pen on the table. You smirk to yourself and think it might be a good time to leave a note.

“What’s the holdup?” Nina asks.

“Just leaving a note for our spider friend. Doing the courtesy of letting them know I got to it first.” You keep it short and sweet with a “Gotcha. ♡”

When you set the pen down, you hear a thump! from above.

“Uh Nee, what’s above me? I think I just heard something. Is it a neighbor or—”

“The only thing above you is the rooftop.” Nina pauses. “I think it might be your spider friend.”

“Shoot. They’ll probably see me if I leave now.”

“Your fault for writing a love letter—”

“I wasn’t writing a—!” You stop yourself suddenly, realizing an outburst could blow your entire operation. “Whatever, I need to hide. Don’t make a sound until I say I’m in the clear,” you instruct.

You stealthily open the next door and find it leads to a small bedroom. The window for your escape is directly across from you on the left side; on the right: a cabinet rests against the wall, a bed beside it.

Realizing you still have the note in your hand, you promptly open the window, just enough to make it look like it was left like that haphazardly. You slip the carrying bag behind the cabinet and against the wall, just in case. Then, you place the note on the far end of the bed, nearer the door, before dropping down and rolling underneath it.

Finding space at the bottom of the cabinet, you shift half of your body to fit in the slot, moving as far away from the door as you can. It opens and you expect them to walk in, but you see nothing on the ground.

You do, however, continue to hear movement—and then you realize they’re probably on the ceiling. Of course.

“Anyone in here?” They call out.

Stay calm, you remind yourself. You’ve set the room up to look like you’ve already left, so all you need to do now is wait for them to believe it. You focus on quieting your breathing, making sure that even your heartbeat is steady.

Suddenly, the red-and-webbed feet of the suit you know all too well land on the floor by the bed. You watch as they lean forward, presumably to pick up the note you left.

You hear a chuckle and can’t help but smile to yourself. Their voice sounds youthful; definitely not a teenager, but anywhere between the young adult and older range—you deduce their maturity level would probably fit that. And if you would profile them based on that maturity… they were probably male.

You watch as his feet move closer to the window and you inch your head ever so slightly to be able to get a glimpse. He’s leaning by the window now, pushing open the gap you left wider.

Sticking his head out the window, he checks what would probably be the direction of the fire escape. He must find nothing, because he pockets your note (as to where you had no idea) and mutters a “next time” before crawling out the window, allowing it to shut behind him as he scales upward.

You wait a minute or two to make sure he’s really left before you allow yourself to breathe normally again.

“All clear,” you whisper, shimmying your way out from under the furniture. You retrieve the painting from behind the cabinet. “Heading out now.”

“Phew. Okay. I’m here in the alley.”

“Copy that.”

You exit the window and make sure it closes tightly by pushing against it. Once you’ve secured it, you head towards the fire escape, easily making your way down the bars.

True to their word, Nina is waiting in the car right at the end of the ladder. They open the door to the passenger seat for you and you jump in, placing the carrying case in the backseat before you settle in with your seat belt.

“You okay?” Nina asks once you’re strapped in.

“Yeah,” you reply, still a little out of breath. “That was a close one though.”

“But also kinda thrilling, huh?” They grin.

You nod, smiling, too. “And pretty interesting.”

“How so?”

Turning to them with a curious glint in your eye, you say, “He sounded… kind of familiar.”

You don’t have time for this. You’re a social media manager for the Daily Bugle by day and a secret agent with the Black Cats by night. And him? As far as you know, he’s a Spyder. And a pain in your ass.

Your game of cat-and-mouse spider continued to the point where you would both end up leaving notes for the other at your missions, often a one-liner and a scorecard where one point moved from one column to the next. The most recent one from him was a simple “YOUR MOVE.” followed by a tally with his spider logo and a drawing of black cat—tied at five on each side.

It was a back-and-forth for a total of ten assignments in a little over three weeks—yet you still knew nothing about your rival.

Except that you would eventually meet at some point. You could feel it.

Unfortunately, “some point” would have to wait. You had been too busy with your day job to handle any more nighttime endeavors. One job is hard enough, and you didn’t want to burn yourself out—even if you enjoyed both kinds of work.

But it’s not like you had been missing anything big on the spy front. Not that there was a lack of crime, but when spydersightings wasn’t doing more throwback posts, they were posting sightings of an agent in a different suit.

It isn’t that you’re paying any “extra” attention (despite what Nina might say—you’d argue that it’s literally your job to pay attention to these things), you’re just aware that each agent has a specific suit. There’s a difference in shape and/or color for the spider emblem, and the shades of blues, reds, and sometimes blacks of the suit would also vary, as well as the stitching of the suit itself.

The Black Cats are similar in this aspect, you note, but a lot more subtle; you all wore catsuits but you were able to choose whether it’d be a one-piece or a set, and customize your collars, zippers, and belt buckles, too.

To outsiders, it might be counterintuitive to have defining elements on spy suits, but it hasn’t cost anyone’s identity just yet. And honestly, being able to personalize your own suit is just fun.

Something considerably less fun is your day job. Most times, you do enjoy it, but you’re currently running a big interdepartmental project: a revamp of the Bugle’s digital strategy. It’s moments like these when you kind of regret being so good at your job, because when you’ve proven yourself reliable in a corporate setting, then people will start relying on you for things that should probably earn you a bigger paycheck while still working with your current one. (It can’t just be you who sees this as a problem—you’re quite sure most people would rather money come easy.)

On the bright side, you’re having fun working with a team for once. Covering content and social media at the Bugle is usually a one-person job—another set of eyes would definitely help, but Jameson says the budget can’t cover that and give you a raise—and the only real connection you’ve made at the office was with Betty, partly because she sits closest to you.

As much as you’re a great independent worker, you do love teamwork when the rest of the team are just as capable as you. That’s why you and Nina get along so well (apart from the fact that you’ve been friends for years) and why you don’t end up going home completely drained at the end of the day. It’s tough and taxing work, but still somewhat enjoyable.

And maybe it doesn’t hurt that one of the people you’ve started seeing more of is a certain Peter Parker. For purely professional reasons, of course.

Peter saunters in with that gait of his, holding his laptop in one hand and an iced coffee in the other. He’s wearing a blue sweater that fits nicely around his shoulders, and you notice your first impression of him being “lean” was wrong—though to be fair to you he was in an ill-fitting flannel at that time. This knitted piece was snug in all the right places. You could practically see the shape of his toned arms beneath the sleeves…

You manage to redirect your focus, ignoring what looks like the beginnings of a smirk on his lips.

“Hey! I just sent you an email,” you tell him as you look back down at your laptop. “There’s something wrong with the website’s blog section, the tags aren’t functioning right. Also, I think the Instagram RSS is buggy.”

“Hey, yourself,” he greets, walking closer. “Yeah, I just got your email actually and thought I’d swing by.”

“Oh?”

“Just had to get outta my seat and stretch for a little bit.” He looks right at you. “Feels like I’ve forgotten what the sun looked like.”

“What?” You laugh, feeling a blush creep in at his gaze.

“Do you know what the developer’s side of this floor looks like? The blinds are shut, the lights on are the bare minimum needed for sight, and everyone uses dark mode on their machines. It’s like a bat cave.”

“Ah,” you say, and it’s at this point that you realize all you’ve been saying are one-word replies. “Well, I’ve never been in the tech area.”

“Right.” He nods in understanding before he brings his straw to his mouth and sips the last of his drink. “Okay, scoot over.”

“Sorry, what?”

Peter sets his laptop down on your desk and tosses his empty drink in a nearby bin. He makes a small fist pump when it goes in like a basket.

When he sees you haven’t inched from your position, he explains, “It’ll be easier to adjust the code and ask you to check if it’s all firing correctly while I’m here, instead of us having to go back and forth on Slack.”

You sigh and nod in agreement, moving to the other side of the desk as he pulls in a chair—Betty’s, since she was in a meeting—to sit beside you.

“Don’t mind me. Just continue doing your thing while I do mine.”

You smile politely. “That was the plan.”

The two of you work in comfortable silence, the only sound between you the typing on your keyboards until Peter groans at his screen.

You glance at him in concern before looking back at your screen to continue what you were working on. “What’s up?”

“This page has been weird since day one,” he complains. “Whoever coded it didn’t know what they were doing. I wanna redo the page from scratch so bad, but my project leader won’t let me mess with the timeline.” From your peripheral, you can see that he’s leaning in your direction, looking pointedly at you.

You look away from your laptop to return his expression and roll your eyes lightheartedly. “Unfortunately your project leader is under strict orders to stick to the said timeline. Nothing I can do.”

The both of you share a laugh before looking back at your respective screens.

“You know,” he says in between clicks, “I didn’t take you for the glasses-wearing type.”

You feel a little self-conscious; you forgot you were wearing them today. You explain anyway, “Been nearsighted since the sixth grade. I wear contacts most of the time but my eyes didn’t feel like cooperating with me today. And my insurance doesn’t cover Lasik, so.” You shrug. “How about you?”

“I feel kinda bad now.” He takes the frames off his face. “Mine are just for show.”

“Really?” Part of you wants to add to look smart or something?—but in your few interactions with this guy, you know he doesn’t need to look it; he is smart.

“Yeah, anti-blue light or something. My aunt got them for me when she realized that aside from the video games, I really did have to stare at a screen all day for work too, in order to pay the bills.”

“That’s sweet of her.”

“It is.” He slides his specs back on with a smile. “Didn’t have the heart to tell her that there isn’t much scientific proof about the harms of blue light from screens though.”

You smile. “Sweet of you.”

“I’ve been told,” he comments back and returns to his laptop. Before you can add anything else, he finishes clacking away at his keyboard with a flourish. “There, we should be all set up now. Go check.”

You refresh the page, checking the links and tags again. He fixed the problem quite promptly, taking another milestone off the project timeline.

“That did it,” you confirm. “Thanks.” You turn to him and smile.

He smiles back. “Yeah, no problem.”

Your phone buzzes and you immediately see ‘spyder’ as your screen lights up. His eyes follow the flash, but your hand is quick enough to lock the screen.

Or so you think. “You a fan?” He asks.

You try to play it cool. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He nods, but doesn’t say more. You’re thankful he dropped the subject. “Well,” he stands and picks up his laptop off the table. “I should be getting back to my station.”

You nod. “Thanks for stopping by.”

He starts to walk away before spinning on his heel to turn back. “You know, I could do that more often. Stop by. If you’d like that.”

The sudden invitation—if that’s what you could call it—surprises you, but you can’t help but grin. “I would like that. Or, you know, we could also get a coffee. Outside the office. Maybe when this is all over and we have some room to breathe?”

Peter matches your grin. “I’ll hold you to that offer.”

You nod in acknowledgment and supply a small “Cool”. He echoes your response and you laugh.

“I’ll go and head back now,” ​he says.

“Okay. Bye!”

“See ya!” He clicks his tongue and flashes what you now see as his signature finger guns before dashing away.

“Just so you know,” you hear from behind you. You turn around and find Betty, who had apparently returned from her meeting in the nick of time. “I heard all of that. I also heard what was not being said.”

You know there’s no use arguing with her, so you just laugh and tell her to shut up.

A couple of weeks later and your project at the Bugle wraps up. Surprisingly, Jameson treats the floor to a pizza party—one where everyone only gets a single slice each but, hey, it’s something.

You’re in the middle of a conversation with Betty when Peter walks up to you, plastic cup in hand.

“Hey, ladies,” he greets. You and Betty say a “hey” back before he lifts his chin in the direction of your drinks. “Can I get you a refill?”

“I’m good,” Betty replies.

You check your cup to see you’re almost out, so you accept his offer. “That’d be great actually. I hope we’re not out of Coke Zero?”

He makes a clicking sound with his tongue. “I actually just took the last of what was in the bottle. But you know what?” He hands you his nearly-full cup and takes away your nearly-empty one. “Here. I don’t mind bouncing to a Diet or Regular or whatever.”

“Are you su—” you being to protest, but he’s already downed the rest of your drink.

“I’m sure. It’s no problem.” He flashes a smile and you concede.

“Thanks. Hurry back?”

He nods before running off—not unlike a puppy, you note.

You don’t even notice the smile on your face until Betty points it out. “Look at you!” she says. “Can’t believe you were the mayor of I-Don’t-Have-Time-To-Date Town a couple of months ago and now you’re getting your flirt on.”

“To be fair, we still haven’t gone on an actual date. Just a few joint coffee runs with like, 10-minute conversations.”

Betty makes a noncommittal noise while you take a sip from your—Peter’s?—drink.

“But who knows?” You add. “Now that the project’s over…”

Just as you were about to allow yourself to indulge in normal-person things, your phone buzzes with messages.

Nee: you finally free from the corporate clutches tonight? got an assignment that’s up our alley

Nee: LOL. didn’t even realize i made a cat joke at first. i’m hilarious

“Let me guess…” Betty starts.

“Yeah, my freelance thing wants me to come in. I could use the extra cash, I’ve been without for some time now…”

Betty sighs, knowing all too well what it’s like to be on the receiving end of your lack of free time. At that moment, Peter returns with his drink.

“Hi again.”

His charm is irresistible, you just have to smile. “Hi,” you say back.

There’s a ping! of a notification next to you and it’s coming from Betty’s phone. You notice her reply swiftly with a smile on her face. She finishes her drink and sets it down on the table. “I gotta go. Would you toss this for me?”

“Yeah, sure. Where are you off to?” You ask.

“A date. With Ned, from downstairs?” She smiles again.

“The barista? Oh, I knew he was into you!” You gush.

“Glad he took my advice to finally ask you out,” Peter adds, almost bragging. “Have fun, you two.”

“Thanks. See ya Monday!”

“Bye!” You wave after her as she skips to the elevator.

“Speaking of which… on my round trip to the drinks table, I was thinking about that coffee,” Peter starts. “Would you wanna grab some dinner instead? And maybe catch a movie?”

A pang of disappointment weighs on your chest. “Pete, I’d love to, I really would. It’s just that—you know how I mentioned I freelance sometimes?”

“Oh. I see, no worries.” His face falls ever so slightly, but the look of understanding is more prominent. “Actually, something came up for me too, I was just wondering if I could ditch.”

You smile apologetically. “I really am sorry. But next time! Definitely next time.”

“Yeah, for sure!” He nods.

There’s a moment of silence before you add, “I actually have to head out, so um. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Don’t worry about it. Let me walk you to the elevator?”

You nod, smiling. “I’d like that.”

The two of you walk together, shoulders brushing from time to time. Thankfully, the silence between you isn’t awkward at all—in fact, it feels like he’s as bummed as you are, which is oddly comforting.

Locking eyes as you wait for the elevator to shut, you give a small wave and he flashes you a peace sign. At the last second, you dart out to peck him on the cheek, and you giggle at his stunned expression as the doors close.

“This better be good, Nee. I missed out on a date tonight.”

“A date?” Nina exclaims in your in-ear, mouth half-full.

“Don’t tease!”

“I’m not! I’m happy for you! It’s about time!” They say sincerely.

“Yeah, well, the thing about time is I don’t have the luxury of it.”

Nina makes a lighthearted scoff. “You are so dramatic.”

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” you groan. “This is the worst!”

“That wasn’t a cue for you to give another example—”

“No, Nee. Look.”

You snap a photo of what you see in front of you: another empty safe, save for a piece of paper. No guesses needed to know who it’s from: there was a “Missed me?” in that now-annoyingly-familiar scrawl, and your score tallies—with a point in his favor.

Sighing, you say, “I’ll clear out, there’s nothing left for me to do here anyway.”

“Wait, don’t go just yet.”

“What’s up, Nina?”

“I just picked up a signal—” they pause, probably to verify the location— “on the roof! I think you can still manage to get the package. And maybe meet your Spyder friend, too!”

You don’t respond—you already started running as soon as you heard the word ‘signal’.

It’s an office building, so you find the stairway easily. There are a few floors above you to get to the roof. You smirk to yourself realizing that this is the perfect time to use your favorite spy tool—your grappling hooks.

You aim the hooks at the handrails and manage to pull yourself up each floor swiftly. Finally, you see the door at the top and kick it in.

Your veins are rushing with adrenaline when you make it to the roof. Panting, you look around and see a figure in an unmistakable shade of red examining a flash drive—the very one you were supposed to take from the safe.

He spots you and mutters a “shit”, and you run toward him at top speed. As you approach, he readies his position to spar, but you catch him by surprise when you take the low ground and sweep his leg, causing him to lose his balance.

You snap your head around to see the drive in mid-air and quickly tumble towards it to catch it in your hand.

“I got it,” you manage to say under your breath. But before you can pocket the device, a string of web takes it away.

“Sorry,” the Spyder says, probably not very sorry at all. “No hard feelings?”

Before you can even reply, he’s gone—swinging from building to building and getting farther and farther away from you.

Automatically, you start to go after him, aiming your grappling hooks at the building across from you.

“Hey!” You suddenly hear Nina yell your name in your ear. “Don’t even think about it. You’ve never used the grapples to swing across buildings before. Maybe practice that in a safe space before you do it out on the field, huh?”

You pant. “I almost had him.”

“Yes. And you were amazing. But let’s call it, okay?”

“Fine,” you accept. You were exhausted anyway.

“Come on. Let’s go for some milkshakes. You deserve it.”

“Alright. But only if you’re buying.”

“Your wish is my command. You’ll probably want to take the fire escape to get outta there. Meet you at the bottom.”

“Thanks, Nina.”

When you get home from your milkshake date, as you’re emptying your pockets, you find that tonight’s encounter might not be a complete loss after all.

Other than finally meeting your rival mask-to-mask, you realize he got clumsy with his last note: he left a clue.

Unlike the other ones he left (which seemed to be just plain paper), his most recent message was written on the back of a receipt—from a very familiar cafe, no less.

That’s right: the Coffee Bean on the ground floor of the Bugle Building. The only problem is that it’s smack in the business district and the building alone is forty-six stories tall. So, it could be anyone from those 3 floors devoted to the editorial office, 2 sub-basement levels for the printing presses, and 41 floors rented out to other companies or tenants or what-have-yous.

Still, you know there’s only one way this competition will end—and you’re one step closer to it.

At this point, you realize that catching your Spyder would need a new strategy—one that may involve not actually engaging with the Spyder for a while. Putting your pride aside and letting him keep the one point he has over you, you would opt to surveil in the meantime, observing his movements to and from the scenes spydersightings would post about. If you couldn’t beat him at the location, you’d steal from under him on his way out.

It turns out that having an active social life actually helps this new strategy. You’d finally accepted Betty’s invites to go out with other people from the office after work, and since you were always in densely populated areas, it was quite easy to spot any commotion. If a Spyder was in the area, you’d hear about it.

You’d even gone out of your way to plan some of the hangouts—a win-win situation for both Betty and yourself: Betty gets to have fun with friends, and you get to narrow down a location.

Then, on days you weren’t being social, you’d head to the gym to train your upper body and core, or to the Black Cat training center to practice your grappling hook maneuvers. Though you can admit you’ll never be as smooth as a Spyder, you were getting the hang of swinging.

And on top of all that preparation under the guise of work-life balance, you’d even used one of your precious vacation days at work so you could preserve your energy for the grand finale.

Tonight is the night, you can feel it.

“Alright, I’m getting a new heat signature above you,” Nina says. “Are you ready to intercept the package?”

“Born ready. Let’s go.”

You move towards what you and Nina had mapped out as the nearest extraction point to the wall, keeping a keen eye out for your Spyder.

And then you see it—a glint of red in the night sky.

“I’m moving in,” you report.

From this point forward, every one of your movements needs to be precise.

You watch him land on the building wall so you run to the adjacent corner, shooting your grappling hook so you can climb up as well.

Pulling upwards, you scale the wall—then use your weight to swing around the corner.

“Surprise!” You say, unable to keep it in. He turns his body toward you and in a fraction of a second, you can see his mask pulled halfway up, the brown envelope being held between his teeth.

You shift your weight so that your feet can land on his chest. He makes an oof! sound as you fold your knees in and push as you take the folder with one hand, before you swing back on your rope.

Midair, you retract your hook and shoot it to a lower section of the next building, so you could find your way to the ground more easily. You brace your landing with a tumble before immediately breaking out into a run to find your escape route.

“Great work!” Nina cheers excitedly in your ear. “Just a few blocks ahead, you’ll find the manhole we talked about. I’ll lead you out of there and when you come out, you’ll be right in front of the car.”

“I see the manhole. I’m going in.”

“See you on the other side.”

You take the crowbar you had strategically left in the alley and lift the manhole with minimal effort. Despite the stench of the sewer, you were in euphoria. Absolutely buzzing. Simply elated. Just over the moon.

Everything is going according to plan—until you trigger a web trap.

In your haste, you failed to check if the place was booby-trapped. Now, you were all but glued to the ground, the webs reaching your knees. You couldn’t leave your boots behind even if you wanted to.

“Nee, we got a problem. I’m stuck.”

“What?” They don’t mask the worry in their voice. “In… what?”

“A web.”

“Thank God. I thought it was something else, considering the location.” It takes a beat before they realize— “wait, did you say web? Shit.”

“Yeah, that might have been just slightly better,” you quip, attempting to wriggle out of the trap to no avail. “If we found his getaway area, and this is the sewer nearest that, it makes sense he’d have it secured somehow.”

“Damn. Well, at least you have the folder, right?”

You’re about to reply in affirmative when you suddenly feel a presence looming behind you—and then a red-and-blue-clothed arm reaches out to take the envelope from your hands.

“Surprise,” comes the smug voice. “I’ll take that.”

“Shit. We were so close,” you hear Nina say.

The Spyder crosses in front of you as he boasts his victory. “Sorry I didn’t have time to write another note, but I believe that puts me two points in the lead?”

Refusing to give him the satisfaction, you assert, “You know, I had that one.”

“Of course you did,” he replies, his tone patronizing. “The other ones, too.”

You roll your eyes. “Are you really not going to acknowledge—”

“No, actually, I know you did.” You both pause, and you consider if he just gave you a compliment. Then he continues, “That’s why swooping in at the last minute to finish the job is just so satisfying.”

You scoff, incredulous yet proud despite still being stuck in your shoes. But you won’t go down without a fight. “I don’t know what’s worse, if you were ignorant about me being good or that you’d rather take credit for how good I am. You know what, this is how I know you’re definitely a white cis man. And I mean that as a complete insult.”

“What?” He laughs incredulously. You can’t help but grin.

“I mean, the way you just take credit for a person of color’s hard work so easily.” (Also, you saw his lips, but you didn’t think you had to add that.)

“Hey hey whoa, you playing this card?” He puts his hands up in front of his chest (one of them still holding onto the envelope), as if surrendering.

You smirk, wanting to drive another nail into the coffin of your comeback. “If I have to. Who knows, maybe I’ll make an anonymous tip to the Daily Bugle about how their favorite Spyder is bigoted, opportunistic—”

“You’re joking,” he interrupts, and you really are, but he’s laughing, and it’s kind of cute, so you continue.

“Yeah, Twitter will have your ass. You’ll be canceled by even the most liberal of stan accounts.”

“Okay, but good luck since I work at the Bugle and—”

“Wait, what did you just say?”

If this were a TV show, you would hear that record scratch sound.

Did this Spyder just… accidentally reveal his identity?

“…Whaaat?” He laughs nervously.

You obviously can’t see under the mask, but the way his body freezes makes you think his face is probably such a funny thing to behold right now, eyes widening in mortification before he shuts them tightly. He squeezes the bridge of his nose through the mask and puts his face in his hands.

“Look can we just forget ab—”

“Hold on,” you say, processing the information you now know.

The Coffee Bean receipt, the Daily Bugle connection, and that familiar charm… there’s no way.

Unless… maybe the simplest answer is the right one?

You decide to take that chance and say, “Peter?”

He doesn’t respond right away, just slowly takes his face out of his hands. With the mask, his expression is unreadable. But you have to keep pushing.

You know that unmasking him (so to speak) will finally end the competition, so maybe it was time for a little more risk. After all, you were already so close to the big win.

“Since we’re in the business of meeting each other equally,” you interrupt before giving a little pause. “Me, too.”

“What?” The Spyder—Peter?—asks.

You hear Nina’s voice in your ear at the same time. “What are you doing?”

“I… work at the Bugle, too…”

“You’re kidding.” He doesn’t bother masking his disbelief.

“Trust me,” you say, both to him and to Nina listening in.

You lift the mask off your face. “Surprise,” you announce for the second time that night (though you’ve lost count of just how many there’d already been).

“You…” You can tell by his voice and the way he shakes his head that there’s a smile on his face.

“It’s me,” you confirm with a smile. “And you are…?”

The Spyder’s mask comes off next to reveal the face of the boy you’ve grown fond of: Peter Parker.

“You got me.” He smiles, wide, and you match the shape.

Then it dawns on you both that you’re still stuck.

“Oh shit, sorry, lemme just—” he rips through the webs easily— “there you go.” He holds out his arm to steady you as you step out of the trap area.

“My hero,” you comment, and you swear he blushes. You decide to use this to your advantage. “So, Peter. You wanna get us out of here? I’m sure there are still some diners open if you wanted to grab something to eat.”

Cocking his head to the side, he gives you another boyish grin. “I thought you’d never ask.”

“I have a car waiting at the end of the tunnel. And a person who’s very curious about you,” you add, pointing to your ear.

He leans forward (a little close, but you’re chill about it) and says “hi.”

Nina says, “Tell him he gave us a lot of grief. Or I can just tell him myself later.”

“Oh, I heard ya,” he replies, chuckling as he pulls back. “I gotta drop this off at home first, though.” He brandishes the folder in his hand.

You fold your hands across your chest and shake your head. “Hmm, no, I think I should take that.”

It actually looks like he considers giving it away. “What’s in it for me?” He jokes.

“I think I can make it worth your while.” You wink.

“Oh.”

“Mm-hmm.” You hold your hand out and he places the folder in there. “Good boy.”

“Still here, by the way,” Nina says quickly. “And waiting in an increasingly dark alley.”

You smile, folder now in your possession. “We’re on our way.”

Peter’s able to grab a backpack he had stashed away for emergency outfit changes. He throws on a jacket and sweatpants over his suit.

You introduce Nina and Peter to each other and they get along great, but Nina chooses to drop the two of you off at a nearby diner so as to not be a third wheel.

As you grab your backup coat from the car, they whisper, “Guess you didn’t miss your date after all, huh?”

You both grin and tell them to shut up as they drive off laughing.

Throwing on your coat, you walk over to Peter who’s waiting at the entrance of the diner. You notice he’s grinning, too. “So, were you talking about me or something?”

You’re starting to wonder if he has some sort of super-hearing. “And if I was?”

“Then great. No further comments from me.” He shrugs and you laugh as you both enter the diner.

A waiter arrives to greet and seat you at a table with a free basket of breadsticks and two glasses of tap water. You order a grilled cheese and tomato soup for yourself and he gets a bacon cheeseburger plus two Coke Zeros, one for each of you.

“I just realized something,” you say as the waiter leaves. “You work in development.”

“Yes.” Peter replies with a nod.

“Web development,” you reiterate, stressing your point.

“Yes,” he repeats, knowing exactly how it sounds, and stuffing a breadstick into his pleased grin. “What can I say, I commit to the bit.”

You laugh and you realize it comes so easy with him. You take a big drink from your water and grab a breadstick to munch on to avoid getting flustered by the epiphany.

“So, how does it feel like to win? You did unmask me.”

“It feels pretty good,” you admit. “But how does this end, does the loser have to stop working as a spy or something?”

“No, no.”

“But how will you know I won’t expose you?”

He leans in close and lowers his voice. “Well first, because you’re a spy too, so you know the rules. Second, your boss won’t let you, because of said rules. And third, because I know you well enough to know you have integrity.” He locks eyes with you in an ​​earnest and you nod. He backs away slightly and continues, “Besides, it’s not that big a secret. I have some people in my life that know.”

“Really?”

“Well I don’t exactly go around advertising it but, you know, the people that care and worry about me deserve to know where I go most nights.”

“Like your aunt?”

“She was the first one I told.” He smiles. “What about you? I’m sure you have people you confide in.”

“Well, it helps that my oldest friend is my partner on the job, so I’m not really left itching to tell anyone else,” you confess. “My parents are worried enough; they’re barely convinced that little ol’ me can take care of myself in such a big city.”

“Well, I think one day they’d be happy to know they’re wrong. All things in their own time, of course.”

“Thanks, Peter.” You smile at his sincerity and understanding.

The food soon arrives and you chat over your meals. You allow him to dip a fry in your tomato soup and he gives you a little piece of his bacon. When the check arrives, he offers to pay for it all and you let him as “reparations”, which he accepts with a laugh.

It’s a nice night for a walk, so you both decide to head home that way, extending your date with more conversation.

“So, why did you want to become an agent? Assuming it was your choice,” Peter asks,

“Honestly, I lived a pretty comfortable life. It wasn’t luxurious by any means but we had it good. If I had stayed in my small town, I don’t think anything exciting would ever happen to me, and I would’ve been okay with that,” you tell him. “And then in my senior year of high school, I saw this guy in a spider suit on the news, constantly saving the day. Then I realized that there was something more to life, and it was waiting for me in New York.”

Peter smiles, suddenly shy at the implied admission of admiration. “So, no tragic backstory then?”

“No, thankfully I didn’t have anything too bad happen to me for me to want to help people.” You smile back. “I’ve just seen too much bad to not do anything about it. How about you?”

“My uncle…” he trails off, wondering if this is good first date conversation.

You sense his hesitance and say, “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it.”

He shakes his head. “No it’s alright, I brought it up. My uncle was killed when I was in high school, and I couldn’t help but think it was part of a bigger conspiracy. I did some digging and I ended up being right. Then the Spyders approached me and the rest is history.”

“Hey,” you say, gently holding him by the arm to stop him in his tracks. “I’m sorry that happened to you.”

He smiles. “It was a long time ago. But thank you.”

“Can I give you a hug?” You ask.

“Uh, yes,” he replies.

His eagerness makes you laugh, and you tiptoe a bit to hold him in an embrace. You can feel him nuzzle your neck and you feel like you’re hugging a big dog.

“Anyway.” He motions to continue walking and you follow suit. “Enough about me—how the heck do you manage a full-time job and this on the side? And be good at both?”

You shrug, smiling. “We all need hobbies. Plus, it’s good exercise.”

He laughs. “You serious?”

“I am! Also, weirdly one is a form of de-stressing from the other.”

“You’re amazing.”

You fight the blush that creeps in at the compliment. “Thanks. I could say the same about you.” You pause, readying yourself for the admission. “Well, I have. Pretty famously.”

“Oh, have you?” He asks, suddenly very curious.

“Well, not to brag, but I was the first person to call you the ‘amazing spider-man’ on Twitter.”

“No way.”

You nod. “Remember how I mentioned my senior year…”

“You’re kidding!”

“Actually, that was what got me a job offer from the Bugle. Which is kind of funny, considering—” You stop yourself.

“Considering what?” He steps in front of you to keep from evading the question.

“Uh, considering I was just a small-town teen from—”

“No, wait, don’t tell me you had a stan account, too.”

“That’s all you get. Find the rest out yourself.” You walk past him in nonchalance. “Anyway, I believe you know your way around the web.”

“Oh, ha-ha,” he says, catching up to you easily. “You know what, I could just hack you.”

You eye him dead-on. “You wouldn’t.��

“Maybe. But maybe you don’t know me well enough to say what I would and wouldn’t do. How do you think I was able to beat you on the job so many times?”

“Equal times,” you correct. “And I won in the end using fair means.”

“Not sure how you would define fair since we’re essentially Robin Hoods, but okay.” He shrugs. “So, you’re a fan? Like, a longtime fan?”

You roll your eyes lightheartedly at how he switched the topic back. “I pretty much moved to New York because of you. Yes, I’m a fan.” You can tell by the look on his face that he’s about to say something really smug, so you add, “But Daredevil is my favorite.”

Peter stops in his tracks. “Yeah, right.”

You nod, stopping next to him. “It’s true.”

“You know, he’s a friend of mine, actually.”

Well, you weren’t expecting that. “O-oh?”

“Yeah, I could introduce you—are you blushing?”

“I am not!” You laugh and start to walk ahead so he can’t take a closer look at your face.

He chases after you. “You totally are!” Then you notice him stop before returning to a more leisurely pace. “Oh, you know what? I take back the introduction thing.”

“No! Why!” You whine as you turn back to him, and then you notice the redness at the top of his ears. “Wait, are you jealous?”

“Definitely not!” Peter says almost immediately, avoiding eye contact.

You stand right in front of him, arms crossed, and narrow your eyes. “Are you lying?”

He looks down at you and gulps. “... Maybe?”

Pleased with yourself, you smile. “And you say I don’t know you well enough.”

You walk a little more in comfortable silence when Peter suddenly—but gently—grabs your wrists and leads you to an empty alley. “Hey, come here. I wanna try something.”

“Okay…” You start. “I hope you’re aware of what this looks like.”

He laughs and says, “Trust me.” And you do. “Just—stay right there.” He positions you in front of the wall of the alley.

“Alright.” You stand and wait just like he asked.

After a few minutes, you hear the sound of his web-shooters and the call of your name from above you. You look up to see him lowering himself from the top of the fire escape railing to hang in front of you.

You do what you do best when you’re nervous: talk. “You know, like this, you look more like a bat than you do a spider.”

This gets him to laugh, but he tells you in a hushed voice, “For once. Just for this one moment. Stop talking.”

You nod.

“Good. I’m going to kiss you now. Nod if—” He laughs. You’re already nodding.

Your hands find the back of his head and you pull him closer to meet his lips with yours.

Kissing Peter is the most amazing thing you’ve ever experienced in your life.

You can say with confidence that you’ve never been kissed like this before—acrobatics aside. He kisses you the same way he looks at you; like nothing else around you matters. It’s only your first of what you’re sure will be many kisses, but you can already feel like it will be just like hearing his laugh—every time will set your heart as aflutter as the first. You know this is something you will always look for from now on; his kiss is your new favorite song, your new regular coffee order, your new bedtime hoodie.

The first thing you say when you pull apart for air is, “Wow.” The second is, “You were jealous.”

Peter groans, and you laugh. “Could you please just savor this moment with me.” It’s not a question or a request. He leans forward for another kiss.

You accept it in multitudes and giggle against his lips. “How long have you been wanting to do this?”

“With you, or in general?”

“Uh, both.”

He takes a moment to consider the question. “Long enough.”

You grin. “So, the same answer for both? Would it also be the same if I asked you how long you’ve been wanting to kiss me, regardless of direction?”

Still upside-down, he rolls his eyes. “Well, would it be the same if I asked you the same questions?”

“Would it be the same answer for in or out of our suits?”

“Don’t make me come down there.”

“And what if I want you to?” You smile.

Peter flips over easily and lands on his feet. As soon as he does, he steps toward you again for another kiss, holding you firmly by the waist and breathing you in deeply. You relish in another first kiss with him, this time right-side-up.

When you pull away, you say, “Actually, I only did that so you could come down and stop the blood from rushing to your head. But thanks.”

“Hmm, you care about me or something?” He asks smugly.

“Um, well, you know…” You say, getting a kick out of frustrating him.

“I got another question: do you ever stop talking?”

You laugh and shake your head. “Nuh-uh. You gotta make me.”

“Okay, challenge accepted.” He takes you by the hand and leads you towards the fire escape. “Come upstairs?”

Now you’re speechless. Your jaw drops and Peter is smirking so hard.

“You took us to the back of your apartment building to make out?” You ask.

He shrugs. “Thought it’d be convenient.”

“Oh my God.” You laugh, fully enjoying this moment. “You really are amazing.”

“So you’ll come up?”

“Yes, but only if you swing me up there.”

Without even taking a beat, Peter takes your hands and wraps them around his neck, then lightly lifts your legs to wrap around his waist. “Hold on tight.”

Before you know it, you hear the sound of his web-shooters and you’re zooming in the air. When you land, it’s softly onto his bedroom floor, and his lips are on yours again.

Work becomes a lot easier after you and Peter get together. Of course, injustices—whether you see them on social media manager for the Daily Bugle or as a secret agent with the Black Cats—will always keep you up at night, but it’s always good to know you have someone to come home to at the end of the day.

Sometimes, it’s even better when that person becomes a partner you can rely on, to get you through any kind of tangled web or any sticky situation, no matter what kind of job you’re working on.

But the days you can relax with each other and just be are the best. When Peter tells you one of his favorite ways to relax is on a web hammock between two skyscrapers, you immediately demand he make one for two on the next mission you work together.

And here you are, watching the sunset from 50 stories up, playing 20 Questions.

“Okay: flight or telekinesis?” You ask.

“Flight, always flight,” Peter answers. “That way I won’t have to reload my web-shooters all the time. Or deal with traffic, like, ever again.”

“That’s a good answer.” You nod. “Telekinesis for me though, hands down. But it’s one of those powers that are definitely, like, really important to go to the right person. I accept that.”

“I think you could handle it.”

“Aww, babe.” You lean your head on his chest. “Thank you for trusting me.”

He chuckles and pats your head. “My turn. Back to basics: cats or dogs?”

“Dogs,” you say automatically. “No brainer.”

“You’re a dog person?” He asks, surprised. “I wouldn’t have guessed.”

“Why? Oh, is it the catsuit?” You tease.

He pauses, furrowing his brow to look serious. “Yes. And I was fully prepared to tell you that I’m a dog person but I’ll make an exception for you.”

You laugh at this and smack his chest playfully. “I just think it’s funny the catsuit misled you.”

“More than it being ‘misleading’, I think a better way to put it is that it distracts me.” The way he eyes you make you feel conscious and confident at the same time.

“Ah, if it distracts you so much, should I take it off? So you can concentrate better?” You offer with a smirk, hand on the zipper down your chest.

“Wow. Here? Didn’t think you were such a tease.” He raises an eyebrow.

You move closer to him, further egging him on. “Well, not here. But it looks like there’s still a lot you don’t know about me, Parker.”

Peter hums thoughtfully, pressing a kiss onto your smiling mouth. “I think I’ll take my time finding out.”

thank you for making it to the end!! please consider a like/comment/reblog after reading. 🥰️

tags: @spidervee​​ @fallensilencefics​​ ​

#tasm!peter au event #april is for aus #april au event #au event #jade writes #and here come the tags #tasm peter parker #tasm peter x reader #tasm peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker #tasm!spiderman x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm! peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!spiderman #tasm!peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #peter parker oneshot #peter parker imagine #peter parker #andrew garfield!peter parker x reader #andrew garfield spiderman #andrew garfield!spiderman x reader #peter parker x gender neutral reader #peter parker au #tasm!peter x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker x y/n #andrewgarfield!spiderman

[sweetbunnydreams]

I respect gays

But I fucking HATE those crazy yaoi fans, seriously calm the hell down. Hectrosexuals are NOT homophobic, Bisexuals are STILL bisexual despite who they end up with, asexuals exist and have god damn rights! Trans men (FTM) are STILL men! Quit hating on other sexualities and saying all men are gay just to suit your sexual fantasies! There is more than just one or two sexualities damn it! Also wanting it to the point you are willing to ship inc*st and underaged characters?! COME ON! Hating on girls like me who like to self ship with a male character (who does not have any confirmed sexuality at all to begin with) is bad too! (Seriously I almost took my own life with what you yaoi girls called me, calling me homophobic because I have god damn tits and self ship with a character who uses he him pronouns when you just want to ship him with some other man for your own fetish.) I have the right to be a bisexual girl who self ships, I have the right to be self shipping with a man because bisexual means you are attracted to more than just one gender and those are facts! I have the right to have feelings for a man because he has the personality traits I find attractive ok?! I have the right to self ship with a fictional character who is of age! I am not hurting anyone, you’re all hurting me for hating on me for it. Just because I was born with a vagina my ship isn’t “sexy” enough for you and you have this stupid belief I’m taking away your fun and call me homophobic. But who is really LGBTQ phobic? The person hating on the bisexual who happens to be in a fictional M/F relationship or the person who is casually self shipping with a male character with no confirmed sexuality of any kind? I have head canoned a male character as pan sexual, they act like it’s a sin. Like he doesn’t have any sexuality confirmed at ALL. I see him as pan and I self ship with him, someone who goes with she/they pronouns. “Oh you’re so homophobic!” I’m literally self shipping and you’re freaking out that I have a different head canon to you- A HEAD canon not CANON. I used to get so suicidal thinking what if I am homophobic without even knowing it, but I know that’s a load of crap. I support all sexualities and when I spoke of this to my sister and even some psychologists they claimed they are being panphobic for harassing people who see a character as pansexual, I am being open minded and sticking to my own head canons and am just trying to do what makes me happy, they’re the ones in the wrong. I know now my sister and doctors are right, I’m just trying to do me and they are taking away my rights just because of their own personal opinion, head canon and just because of their crazy obsession and fetish. They bring up a much more serious and sensitive topic (homophobia) to use against me to try and get what they want. I am not homophobic, you are all panphobic. Also they are acephobic as I’ve seen people head canon this character as ace and the people who want him to be gay harassed those people as well. SMH.

Fetishising gay people and harassing anyone else who is not gay or harassing bisexuals in a M/F relationship is not ok! Bisexual doesn’t mean gay or hectrosexual as well so stop acting like we bisexuals are saying we are gay but then are lying, THAT IS NOT THE CASE! Also trans men are MEN! “Oh he doesn’t have a dick, so it’s not sexy for you?” Transgender men (Female to male) are MEN. So stop hating on trans men paired with other men. And stop hating on non binary people as well! “Just say his, it’s so much sexier” NO IT AINT! If someone wants to be a they/them so be it! Stop acting like it’s ruining things just because of your weird fetish! I feel like yaoi fetishes are more homophobic than supporting of gays because of the unrealistic and somewhat toxic expectations. Not to mention how crazy the fans are.

But people, there is a major difference between supporting gay rights and just be a twisted yaoi fan who love making death threats at anyone who is not gay or anyone who so happens to ship a M/F ship or anyone who wasn’t born with a penis. A MAJOR difference. This type of behaviour is not ok.

I support the gay men but I am heavily against yaoi. Toxic Yaoi behaviour and gay rights are not the same.

Yaoi doesn’t support LGBTQ+, it’s a fetish about two men having sex, not about love just sexual fantasies that has spiralled into an out of control obsession to the point the fans harass others over it.

#anti yaoi #gay rights #bisexual rights #ace rights #trans rights #self shipping rights #LGBTQ rights #self shipping #rant #yaoi #cyberbullying #anti cyberbullying #trans men #female to male #bisexual #asexual #lgbtq #non binary #shipping #ships #love is love #fangirls #toxic #bullying #bullies

[eternalwritess]

Heya! I’m not sure if you still do matchups, but I thought I’d send one out in case :)

My name is Ace (which sounds like it should be short for something but weirdly enough it’s not) I go by he/they pronouns and am aromantic and asexual, and I’m on the side of the spectrum which would get married to spend more time with my best friend, (and for tax benefits ) I just don’t like physical contact in general to be honest. I don’t have a preference as to what gender I’d want a QPR with though.

I really like animating and animation, though I also am a music fan as well. Personality wise I’ve been told that I’m “crafty” which according to my friend is just a nicer way of saying that I’m a “[beeping] sketchy con-man” which is fair, though I prefer the term “seizing the opportunity.” I’d never hurt anyone, of course. I can be smart-ish (or so I’ve been told once or twice) though only on really specific topics. Basically whatever I’m interested on at the time.

I’m a little shorter than average height, have black jaw length hair, hazel eyes and wear glasses. I have dark almond-ish skin, though I do have very noticeable vitiligo. I have scars down one arm, and my other has been replaced with a prosthetic for maybe seven years now, though I don't always wear it.

Regarding aesthetics, I've always been a huge dream core/ weirdcore fan. I just love the aesthetic. I also really like kid core and vintage styles, which are polar opposites, but I just really love them.

As for other details about me, I speak English, French, Spanish, ASL (well I could, but my prosthetic isn't fully articulate, so now I can just understand it) and Latin (well not speaking, but writing and reading)

Have a great day :)

𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕓𝕖𝕖𝕟 𝕞𝕒𝕥𝕔𝕙𝕖𝕕 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙…

𝓡𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮!

She most likely found you after someone found out you conned them and protected you

She took you to cannibal town and started asking you a few questions

"Well what are you in for darling?" "Are you doing well?" "He didn't hurt you did he?"

You decided to stay in cannibal town because you didn't have anywhere else to go and when you told Rosie this she insisted that you stay a while

When it comes to conning people its usually that she just brings you to deals with her so that you can help her get the best outcome over the other overlords

"What do you think?"

She's not a huge fun of the weird core but she absolutely adores your more vintage styles and loves coming up with new clothes for your to wear

She loves hearing you speak new languages even if she can't understand them

She tries to help and take care of your other arm since its now a prosthetic and will help repair it if needed

"Is that damn thing broken again?"

She loves seeing your drawings and loves watching your animate things and she will always praise your work on such

She also loves listening to music with you and will sometimes turn on a song just for you two to dance to nothing touchy touchy just small little dances if you like that

You two are very much in a qpr although Rosie doesn't really know what that means

Over all you both have a very sweet friendship :)

#rosie hazbin hotel #match up #match ups #matchup #matchups #hazbin hotel matchups #hazbin hotel matchup #hazbin hotel match ups #hazbin hotel match up #rosie x you

[gazelessmenagerie]

Get to Know the Mun!

———  BASICS! ♡

(PEN)NAME: Kuro

PRONOUNS: He/Him

ZODIAC SIGN: Taurus

TAKEN OR SINGLE: Single

THREE  FACTS! ♡

1: I have two cats called Socrates and Felicia and Socrates insists on being a little feline terrorist whose sole mission is to plant her fat butt on my laptop/arms when I’m trying to sit down and write.

2: I am very fond of giraffes and zebras. They were my favorite animals to look at in the zoo while growing up.

3: Big fan of animated movies and fantasy tropes in general. Far off places, magic systems, dragons especially, dark fantasy; there’s so much and add in some mind bending ploys or ‘symbolic’ instances-- I am hooked.

——— EXPERIENCE! ♡

PLATFORMS USED: E-mail, Skype, Tumblr, Discord

PLOTTING / WINGING IT / MEMES: A mix of everything but given I haven’t had much time to sit down and write as I used to, I’ve been more on memes and winging it but that isn’t to mean I’m not opposed to plotting; I just need like a bit of a helping hand to think of ideas at times and probably a brick thrown at me to reply because I do forget but please talk to me at times even if its just to say ‘ hey what if xyz ‘

———  MUSE  PREFERENCE! ♡

GENDER: Male for a long while but I am trying to branch out into female muses but I am slow and sometimes people terrify me due to how heavily scrutinized said muses can be looked upon ;w;

LEAST FAVOURITE FACECLAIM(S): There was one manga character whose face just pissed me off for no reason than the fact it looked too smug and punchable but I never bothered to learn its name and just never followed/blocked that blog from my dash. I guess I don’t really like irl / youtuber / or idk how the proper word goes face claims. Just looks weird to me especially if the muse is supposed to be in some form of anime or animated show/movie. Other than that, I don’t really have much as the people I had beef with like a good 4 years ago I just unfollowed/blocked/blacklisted so I’d probably need to look at a fc and see if it’ll jog any dislike alsfdjg but that’s a very slim chance.

———  FLUFF / ANGST / SMUT! ♡  

FLUFF: Very much enjoy it but some or a bit of a majority of my muses aren’t receptive to it much or can’t be content with it every day with nothing else. They’re temperamental and tend to cause mischief/problems/be sassy little devils at times. Slice of life is appreciated at times, having some ‘feels good’ au’s or little one shots in some ‘what if’ pieces that don’t have any bearing on what may or may not be considered the ‘main’ timelines and all that.

In short, I’m pretty open. I just need some other dynamics thrown in than constant fluff all the time.

ANGST: I enjoy it just as much but like with Fluff, there’s gotta be moderation of it or it’ll either burn me out, bum me out, or not have that oomph impact on me. In addition, I do admit I’m partial to happier endings, a smidge of a positive or at least bittersweet conclusions. I typically won’t dabble much on this area if I’m already stressed or bummed out though, so I’d say both fluff and angst can have their ‘season’ depending on what I’m feeling or dealing with at that moment in time.

Heavier topics or ideas, I may need to ease myself in but don’t be afraid to suggest something and I’ll say how I’d feel / write it. Again, having a good ooc relation / amicability/ friendship helps.

SMUT: lafdlkjg yeah I’m sure as hell guilty of this. Love writing some good smut but at the same time, it’s gotta be built up before that stage mainly because some muses are just that reclusive and others are thots. I will say I am more confident to write this area when I know a mun on the ooc level and we both have a good wavelength for the chemistry and things.

Tagged By: @dragonwish thanks for the tag~​

Tagging: asdfljg take this.

#|| Tag: OOC #|| Tag: Kuro the Eternal (Bastard) #( thanks for the tag~ <3 )

[nightchase]

SETH.

— BASICS

&&. wait, is ( seth harlow ) working another shift? i've heard through a grapevine, that the ( 35 ) year old ( prize fighter/thief ) is looking for more than just revenge. and let me kid you not, he looks just like ( micheal b jordan ). some say that he is ( careless & insincere ), but he is actually ( charming & reflective ). ( penned by logan, they/them )

NAME: Seth Ijaya Harlow AGE / D.O.B.: 35 / January 5th, 1989 GENDER, PRONOUNS & SEXUALITY: Cismale, he/him, pansexual HOMETOWN: New York, New York AFFILIATION: Syndicate JOB POSITION: Prize Fighter/Thief EDUCATION: High School Graduate, Military Training (Three years) RELATIONSHIP STATUS: Single CHILDREN: None POSITIVE TRAITS: attentive, protective, humorous, driven, cultured NEGATIVE TRAITS: manipulative, morbid, corruptional, pretentious, erratic

— BIOGRAPHY

tw: (parental) murder, violence (as a form of self harm), parental death, blood, injury

Freedom means a welcoming silence at night, and Seth thinks it's weird at first. There's no dull punches against stone prison walls anymore, no clinking of metal at night, and what's especially missing is the high heart rate when someone breathes just a little bit too close to him, and he's ready to jump in a second. He'd like to think being convicted for a murder and spending fifteen years in prison for it changed him to be a better person, if only it wasn't for the fact that it was a murder he didn't commit - the murder of his own parents, the parents he loved and cherished all his life. If it wasn't for the trial he went through while facing the biggest loss he's ever faced, and witnessing the slow loss of years spent with his younger sister.

It gets to the point where Seth is the one banging his fist against a stone wall, a metal bed, a fellow prisoners jaw, until his knuckles feel like they've been ripped open to the bone. It's ironic, really, how perfectly they planned this all out - a Highschool graduate, 20 years of age, with the Navy for almost three years now, so good, right on the road to become a naval pilot. A career translating to mere pressure and violence, and the one or two school fights in his records only play into their hands. He pleads, begs for not guilty, for innocent, but the odds speak against him. It doesn't matter if he's crying or not, he's a cruel, violent animal. In the back of his head is always a voice; so why not become exactly that?

Until, not guilty. The words echo in his head as he sits there, hands cuffed, metal digging into his skin as they shake. He laughs, laughs so much he starts to feel like he's insane, not guilty, not fucking guilty, but fifteen years of his life gone and robbed and tossed in the endless sea of despair. What once was a good man has morphed into the desperate need for revenge, revenge in it's most cruel form of torture.

In a way he's used to the constant violence and roughness prison brought into his life, and he's a man of habit, which leads to a continued scheme - it's hard to get a job out there after being convicted for murder, and it's the dirty jobs that pay real money. And as he constantly works on his revenge plan, there's more than just one prize to fight for.

Seth finds home and comfort in moving in with his sister Iris Sevyn, who morphs to become her wingman in life; teaching him things he never thought he'd be taught.

And he pilots through it all.

WANTED CONNECTIONS;

tbd but prison buddies, bhood people he can banter with, tension partners etc etc!!

#REINS TORN APART; intro post.

[misssakuramochi]

Hihi heres my info for the trade thx for trading for me

Persona 5 male matchup plz

Gender: cis female

Pronouns: she/her

Sexuality: heterosexual ally

Zodiac: Capricorn

Appearance: 5’2 African American hourglass body (although I’m more top heavy if you know what i mean) black curly wavy hair blackish brown eyes chubby cheeks wears glasses sometimes (im far sighted so it’s usually when driving in class or at the theater)

Mbti: infj

Enneagram: 2w1

Personality: kind smart funny motherly responsible empathetic anxious emotional moody perfectionist helpful people pleaser caring compassionate nerdy curious protective polite respectful indecisive fearful nervous introvert shy awkward clumsy low self esteem low confidence (more pertaining to my talents or personality then my looks) sassy sarcastic (I’m mainly these things with people i feel comfortable with like friends or family) soft spoken cute (my friends think im cute because i can be pretty innocent plus I’m small physically)

Likes: animals books reading writing fantasy magic sci fi anime music video games friends alone time learning personality quizzes sweets and bread helping being a part of something bigger than myself

Dislikes: spiders loud sounds people who harm others people who don’t take others into consideration (like make insensitive jokes or don’t consider the comfort of others or are mean just cause they can) people i care about not caring for themselves (im a hypocrite on this i take care of everyone else but not me) not being listened to weird holes and patterns math and tests (I’m being tested for a math disability and i have test anxiety)

Love language:

Giving: acts of service gift giving and physical affection (if they’re ok with it)

Receiving: words of affirmation and physical affection (although i can be shy about it)

Extra: i pace a lot i sing when im alone i talk to myself im a picky eater (mainly with textures) i have a cat i have minor ehlers danalos (a hyper mobility disorder) but it doesn’t hurt me like it does my sisters i get abdominal migraines which is basically like a migraine but instead of headaches it’s nausea

Thankie thankie

I match you with...

AKIRA

You two compliment each other so well!! On one hand, you're similar. On the other, you're balanced. I imagine you to be a driven person with a strong sense of justice - a quality the two of you share. It draws you together, and together there's nothing you can't accomplish. Both of you take care of each other when you forget to take care of yourselves and have a great support system in one another. While you can be a little scattered emotionally, Akira is more... stable I guess, if you're not offended by the term. He's your rock when things get too much, and you help him learn to express himself! Overall you're the scariest power couple out there tbh.

HEADCANONS

● Words of affirmation you say?? Akiras got you covered. He's quiet until you're alone, but he loves to smother you with compliments the second you are. Between making you blush and trying to boost your self esteem (he just wants you to see you the way he does) Akira never stops saying nice things to and about you.

● Phantom thief extraordinare, Akira WILL keep quiet and pretend not to be home when you are just to hear you sing. He loves hearing you habe fun. He also likes how flustered you get when you realize he's been there the whole time.

● Akira is normally really chill, but he turns into the most doting worry wart when you get an abdominal migraine! He's got water, the BRAT diet, buckets, meds, comfy blankets and pillows... he really goes over the top to make you even a little more comfortable. Basically turns into your personal servant tbh

● Don't like math tests? Akira's got you. He's very proficient with book learning and he's more than willing to put in a little extra work to help you. By which I DEFINITELY mean helping you cheat. He could tutor you, and would if you wanted, but why not get rid of the anxiety completely by just having Morgana signal the answers to you through the window?

#matchups #persona 5 #persona 5 akira #im not calling him ren srry not srry

[bumblee-stumblee]

I just got sent your post by a friend. Through the rambling, I picked out a few things that confused me and made me realize why people push out TERFs.

1. Sexual attraction is based on the body, not chromosomes, so if a sexual partner is sexually attracted to the body presented to them and consents, what is the problem? Linked to this, why wouldn't sexual partners communicate about their wants and needs? You don't consent to gametes, that's just fucking weird.

2. Stop painting trans people as predators and groomers. That's recycled Don't Say Gay rhetoric and you know it. You're just feeding into the far right and giving them more ammunition against the LGBTQ community. Mermaids and others providing support to kids being kicked out by their families and gaslit by their doctors is a positive thing.

3. The lesbian community has driven off so many lesbians (biological females, to use your incel phrasing), because you're unwelcoming. 44% of lesbians have endured physical/sexual violence at he hands of an intimate partner (same-sex). I was abused by two female partners before meeting my now male partner who has been loving, kind and patient as I work through the trauma of being abused by those women, and I have never felt more valuable and loved for being me, not just because I have a vagina. Don't even get me started on your "gold star" lesbian rubbish. The power you ascribe to a male penis to "ruin" a woman while saying you think men are inferior is hilarious.

4. Kids aren't your property. They have the right to see their GP and access medical care without parental consent. They aren't stupid. They aren't brainless. By telling them they can't consent and don't know what they're talking about, you are alienating them from your cause and making them hate you more.

5. No one tells GNC people they are trans. That's not how being trans works. Sometimes a GNC person might want to shed pronouns or use different words, and that's fine. Why are you equating that with gender dysphoria? They're completely separate. Butch lesbians aren't vanishing, there are still plenty of them accessible to you.

6. People have the right to do with their bodies what they want. The most telling experience I ever had was with my lesbians friends: I told them I wanted a mastectomy, they made a massive deal out of it, because they felt entitled to my breasts and it was "ruining" my body (what the fuck? How does not having breasts ruin a body?). It was disgusting and invasive. I got a hysterectomy for comfort. Again, they made it into "denying my womanhood". Thanks for boiling my womanhood down to my womb, real progressive of you.

The biggest reason people hate radfems is because of their entitlement to other people's bodies and experiences. If you spent less time telling people how to behave and feel about themselves, and telling them they were brainwashed and you know The One True Way, you might stop driving people in the opposite direction. You're your own worst enemy and I am really glad I realised I'm bisexual, otherwise I would be voluntary celibate rather than go back to lesbian spaces. They are choked by toxic radfems.

1. Just like sex based oppression, same sex attraction is real. Transwomen will never be women. Transbians will never be lesbians.

I enjoy honesty in my relationships, i disclose anything important or anything that may be considered a deal breaker early on as to not string others along. Transpeople need to disclose that they are trans 1- to be safe and not get murdered by homophobic men and 2- so their partners can make an informed decision.

2. There are predators and groomers in your community tho. That's just factual.

Mermaids huh?

3. The Lesbian community has driven off lesbians? I never said there wasn't domestic violence within same-sex relationships? Um okay good for you? This is coming out of nowhere, are you sure you've got the right blog lmao

4.)Never said kids are my property, i said kids cannot give informed consent and lack the emotional and cognitive maturity to give consent. Kids that are suffering through gender disphoria to such a degree that they are claiming to be suicidal should not be able to consent to medical procedures while their mental health is obviously compromised.

Kids aren't stupid but they can be groomed and coached to say things that would not be beneficial to their well-being. Suck a lemon. I don't care if kids hate me.

5. Yes they are. Especially within younger groups, where this social contagion is more likely to be rampant. Especially within religious groups that see homosexuality as sinful and would rather transition their kid rather deal with their kid being gay. Why are you mentioning butch lesbians? Are you under the impression that GNC women would only be lesbians or something?

6. IDC what you do to your body if you're an adult. I only care when you try to convince children that they're born with the wrong body and need to take puberty blockers that makes me speak out against it. Y'all are teach kids to hate their bodies and you don't even see it.

Ah but calling women uterus havers and pregnant/bleeding people isn't reducing you down to your womb or genitals when it's done for the inclusion of transwomen i see i see. Coddle men and what not.

You don't know shit about radfems and i wish you'd stop pretending you do. I'm embarrassed for you.

#radblr #radfem #feminist #radfems #feminism #radfems please interact #trans #gender critical #transgender #radical feminist