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theautistichalflinghole · 3 months

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Something I've been thinking about lately is like, how my gender presentation affects me as a performer.

I love the performing arts, acting, singing, improv, dance, everything, and I've pretty much done everything at some point. I'm a high schooler now and am working to pursue it professionally and the main way I can do that rn is performing in choir and drama at my school or in the occasional summer camp. This past year, I've been in my schools SSAA choir, was King Theseus in a production of midsummer, ensemble in The Little Mermaid, and am planning to do a production of "Freaky Friday" over the summer.

The thing is, how I can present as a performer vs in my day to day life changes drastically. Generally I present pretty androgynous/masculine leaning. I'm hairy and don't shave (partially for sensory reasons), I wear loose clothing made for comfort (Graphic tees, sweats, big jackets and coats, etc), and my hair is cut in a short androgynous style. I don't typically get adressed with masculine terms or pronouns, but this is mainly because of my feminine body type, (given) name, fem leaning voice, and the fact that I just don't meet a lot of new people who don't know that I am afab and assume fem. But generally yes, if I'm wearing something that doesn't show my body type I get treated as more masculine by those who don't know me.

In choir, this doesn't affect me, we don't have a uniform beyond wearing concert black, the only thing that affects my position is my voice part, which places me with the sopranos. (We also are just generally largely queer with a very cool director lmao). In plays, it does somewhat, I have only performed in two plays with this school (and honestly generally, youth theatre is usually limited to musicals) but I have been cast in more masculine roles in ensemble or just recently Theseus. I binded (well "binded", with 1-2 tight sports bras) in that role, but it was mostly to get into character as well as to just fit myself into the suit jacket I had for the chatacter. My masculine presentation works with my semi fem speaking voice and there hasn't been any roles where I felt I didn't fit (especially in this production, where we gender bended for a saphic Lysander and Hermia).

In musicals however, I feel like things change, and typically feminine voice part clashes with masculine presentation. Characters who are masc are typically played be tenors and bases while fem is associated with sopranos and altos. This hasn't come up yet, little mermaid had a very large ensemble where they truly just tried to fit anyone somewhere and ended up with several fem people with higher voice parts in fathoms below as sailors, and pre highschool, and especially pre pandemic gender awakening, my roles were pretty much feminine or "youre one of the 5 students with previous experience play a tenor in our tiny underfunded school production". And while I haven't had any gripes with casting (I quite literally asked for an ensemble part due to my workload at the time, and we had an extremely talented principle cast), I worry in future productions like Freaky Friday where gender roles are more hard and fast, how I present genderwise out of a production could affect my chances of a larger part.

I'm not expecting roles to be handed to me, I don't pretend that I should get every single large role or that I need to or "deserve to" break out of the ensemble, but at a certain point I just get anxious about whether decisions are made purely by what I can do.

I don't even dislike femininity or presenting as such, I use all pronouns and terms and on occasion will wear things like dresses and makeup for the purpose of being fem (I have this one thats like puffy sleeved with mushrooms that I adore, usually wear it with like a corset and some heels, also I wear like a lot of crop/bra tops but those feel andro/masc when I wear them wierdly enough). But for me femininity feels more performative, like something fun for a special or formal occasion, or in some cases the gender I occasionally gravitate towards when my gender decides to be fluid instead of just "none gender left boobs" once in a blue moon. I don't know how I feel about doing things like shaving or wearing more fem clothing to look a part, especially shaving because that's more permanent and takes a lot of energy from both the work and the sensory experience (especially when I am naturally very hairy). I will perform as fem without any question, but altering my lifestyle/presentation for a longer time like this just makes me feel anxious, Ive done this maybe once since I had any sort of awareness of my gender queerness and I dont exactly look forward to figuring out trial and error style whether on not it gives me any sort of disphoria (especially when I already know my Dad, who is very open about preffering when I present feminine, would make a huge fuss about it), or even any sensory discomfort when I havent done this in so long and last time I did there was some.

Idk sorry if this is long and incoherent (can you tell I have adhd from the amount of parentheses and commas lmao), but idk I've just been feeling kinda anxious about this lately, if anyone has any stories, experiences, or advice around this sort of thing I would love to hear it.

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dreamcast-official · 7 months

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ugh

#eli.txt #having thoughts. mainly abt how like. most ppl in my life who arent in my friend group probably wont believe me if i say im trans #since im pretty fem presenting most of the time and i like it that way but they wouldnt Get It #my family sure as fuck wouldnt get it. my mom wouldnt get it. no one would get it theyd probably think im lying for attention #they tend to think i do that like when i said 'hey i think im autistic' a lot of my relatives and family friends straight up said i was lyin #i dont want to like. never come out. at least my mom deserves to know and i want her to know but when i think about how no one would Get It.#i just want to cry a little ngl. they dont fucking get it #im not going to sacrifice the way i like to look and act just to make people understand me better #bc. i know my mom wouldnt get it. but i know she loves me so much that she would try to get it.#there are people in my family i know wouldnt bother to try to get it if i was the most binary masc presenting trans guy in the world.#and i dont care to try to please them. they dont even have to ever know. its my mom that scares me #ive had. very few. discussions abt the genderisms with her. they never go well.#shout out to when i said i wanted a binder and my mom started crying. lol ✌#idk man i just. goddammit i wish i could just beam the way i interact w my gender into other peoples minds so they Get It but i cant do that #idk!!!!!! this is stupid #i just i am sad

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shmorp-mcdurgen · 2 years

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alright so we know the characters sexualities, what about gender?

I don’t really have many hcs on their gender identities.

I will say that both canon Gabriel and Lieutenant Gabriel are non-binary. Alt gabe has no gender whatsoever.

Also I think this might’ve been already confirmed, but I think the Preacher is women-presenting.

#asks are neat #honestly I don’t think any of the Alts gave an actual ‘gender’#but they present as a certain sex. or neither at all. or both I don’t know #as for au characters I think Seth mainly goes by he/him. though he sometimes goes by they/them too #other than that I think of the rest as cis. at least for now. like I said I don’t have many headcanons with gender identities for them #just. haven’t thought about it very much.#though I did project a little with the non binary hcs

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sammygender · 1 year

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personal opinion here but i dont actually like trans eiffel as a headcanon at all and i can never understand why people insist on it. its not THAT common but i still see it show up quite a bit and like sure normally i’m all for trans hcs but i also wish thought was put into how they fit for characters. this is such an irrelevant rant i’m not even going to tag it because it’s not like it’s harmful or anything it just bugs me. its so stupid. he canonically fathers a kid with kate like sure they could both be trans etc etc but that’s obviously not the implication in canon & he’s such a particularly Cis deadbeat dad & obviously prison is sooo much more complicated for trans people which it canonically isn’t for eiffel & i don’t GET it what is it about eiffel that makes people want to attach this status to him. is it just because he’s annoying?? cause he is annoying

& idk i just think it ties in in general to the w359 fandoms tendency to treat canon & canon life events for the character like an unimportant factoid that doesn’t have any real bearing on hcs. and to treat hcs like things which wouldn’t have any bearing on canon!! like sure there’s stuff you could play around with but no one wants to do that he just gets headcanoned as trans or whatever for diversity points. IDK it annoys me this is SUCH a stupid post i refuse to tag it but…. i think personal hcs are cool especially when it’s people projecting their own identity etc etc. im just nitpicky and annoying. BUT. ughhhhhh. maybe this is just an issue i have w trans hcs in general. or with eiffel in general….

like… like it or not eiffel is written to be a white cis guy

#i like trans jacobi. if we’re talking trans headcanons #i’ve seen trans kepler been done REAALLY well. fascinating concept. keplers so self made and so *gestures vaguely*#idk i think you can play around with gender for kepler well #and trans jacobi is just so present i dont know why something about annoying explosion guys and transmascs etc etc. checks out #(by present i mean like trans jacobi is a filterable ao3 tag. though beinf said the w359 ao3 is a bit of an eiffel-focused hellscape)#i think trans maxwell can be good too. maybe its just that i care most about the si5 and therefore think about them more #and any potential for transness #i just personally do not like (at least the vast majority of) trans eiffel hcs #Maybe that’s on me.#obligatory disclaimer that i am a trans guy etc etc not some cis person complaining about trans hcs #i guess also sometimes there’s the fact that the w359 fandom tends to project lgbt identities into characters to talk about them while #ignoring/being unwilling to confront things like race & how that relates to a character. i suppose bc a lot of the fandom is white but the #majority are queer or whatever #like again this is another aspect of the way people hc eiffel that just sorta. contradicts canon totally and has no real depth. but ive #touched on this before & other people have spoken better on it than i am rn & also thats a more serious issue w peoples characterisation of #eiffel whereas this post is mainly just me lightheartedly complaining #oliver talks #oh also hera is v transgender. duh. but seeing as she’s an ai i cant actually hc her as trans its more so just a reading of her character

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ethernitty · 1 year

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fuckin dysphoria and birthdays

#tw vent #cuz firstly yay day all about me whos slightly out and #therefore will get misgendered and called by the wrong name #not to mention the stress around presents #i know ill mostly get money and for some people i know all the presents cuz i chose them #but i ask for pjs cuz i dont have enough and i say just like the ones from xmas just a bigger size cuz they shrink #but now ive seen that im gonnna get ones that are 1 not button downs for the top and 2 a light color #i want dark ones that i can button so i have minimal gender shit feelings #i know ill mainly sleep in them but i dont wanna feel like shit in them when im wearing them around the house #and i dont think i have the heart to bring it up cuz i dont wanna bother then or feel like im being 'unreasonable'

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picturejasper20 · 23 days

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Wow... people having to identify themselves to a government because of they are part of a group that is seen as ¨other¨ or because they want to learn about a certain topic...where i have seen this before...

I don't know... maybe what it is considered one of the biggest red flags in steps of dehumanization of groups, mainly minorities?

Btw, this is what the people behind KOSA are trying to impose in all the United States of America.

[Image ID: News politcs article about USA politics that says ¨Kansas governor passes law requiring ID to view acts of 'homosexuality' online, vetoes anti-LGBTQ+ bill¨ /.End ID]

Link to the article: https://www.advocate.com/politics/kansas-veto-age-verification-gender-affirming-care-abortion

Edit: Since this gained more notes, for those who don't know KOSA is, it is a USA bill that was reintroduced on May 2023 (last year). It is called ¨Kids Online Safety Act¨ (KOSA for short). It has been introduced and reintroduced for a while now since 2022. It is meant with the intention to ¨protect kids¨ by restricting their use of internet by pushing age restrictions and people having to present their ID to use internet or access certain websites, quite similar to the Kansas state bill that got passed. Many groups and people have criticized this bill for the potential censorship it can come with it and do more harm to the kids than help them. Possible censorship that has been suggested this bill can bring is LGBT+ content, politics and news, mental health search, political and social opinions in general (adults included). What is more, it has been put into question the possible invasion of privacy for both minors and adults by having to share an identification to use certain websites. That people could get censored or doxxed by doing this.

As for the bill itself, there was a hearing earlier today in the Senate. ( April 17th-Wednesday). It could take a while before it gets voted and has to pass different stages. Then it would take months (18 months) to be implemented if it gets passed.

I'm not American myself, so i'm not sure how much i can do about this. What i do recommend is making calls to senators and people involved in pushing this bill to make clear your disapproval of it. Try sign petitions or just telling others about it.

Some sources: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kids_Online_Safety_Act https://www.stopkosa.com/ https://www.badinternetbills.com/ https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2024/02/dont-fall-latest-changes-dangerous-kids-online-safety-act

Website to keep track of the KOSA bill movements and cosponsors of the bill:

#kosa bill #stop kosa #kosa #lgbt #internet #USA #tumblr

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1-800-kami · 3 months

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how to (properly) make tomato soup | gojo satoru

.. it’s three pm, you’re sick, and satoru takes it upon himself to take care of you (except there’s one problem: he does not possess any shred of culinary ability whatsoever).

content: 1.7k words, no explicit gender mention but pet names like angel and baby are used, gojo being silly while geto is absolutely done w his bullshit, reader has a migraine, mainly a self indulgent comfort/crack fic

when you feel the pounding in your ears again, tears start to form in your eyes. fuck, you just can’t help it.

you’re tired. so tired of the constant headaches–the migraines that plague your days and make staying awake completely unbearable.

the familiar ache settles in, but you can tell that this time, it’s much worse than usual. the nauseating pressure that can be described as thousands of needles pricking the back of your eyes, the blinding light in the room that’s assaulting your vision, the overwhelming sounds around you that are so intense to the point where you want to do nothing but cry.

so… that’s exactly what you do.

you succumb to the pain, letting out a choked sob that arguably just makes everything worse. tears slowly make their way down your cheeks, and you put your head in your hands to simultaneously muffle your cries and shield yourself from the light around you. you want to turn off the light. your head screams at you to turn off the light, but you’re so dizzy that you can barely even move.

“y/n?”

the first call of your name barely registers amidst the ringing in your ears. you hear it when your name is said a second time, though, and you feel yourself coming back to your surroundings.

he’s… here.

your boyfriend, satoru. yeah, he’s here.

head still buried in your hands, you carefully move one of your fingers to peek at him. he’s crouched down in front of you, a look of concern on his face. he’s saying something…

“where does it hurt, baby?” you’re still so stunned that you can’t find the strength in you to speak. so you close your eyes and point to the area where it hurts the most, sniffling. “is it okay if i massage that area, angel?”

throughout the midst of all your pain and tears, your heart manages to swell. it swells for satoru, because he’s here–he’s present, and he cares about you.

you manage out a small nod, eyes still shut. you let out a shaky breath—a breath that you just found out you were holding, since everything hurt so much that you forgot to breathe.

satoru massages your temples gently, even making an effort to softly wipe the tears off of your face. he feels your forehead with the back of his hand and frowns at your temperature. you’re starting to burn up. “s more than a headache, baby. i’m gonna take you to the bed, okay?”

this was going to be a long afternoon.

he carries you bridal style to your bedroom and gently places you on the mattress. he turns off the lights and draws the blinds shut, providing a welcome respite from the sensory assault just moments ago. you exhale a sigh of relief, slowly opening your eyes as you wipe the dried tears off your face. he climbs into the bed with you, and you instinctively cling to him for support as you wrap your arms around his neck. it hurts. everything hurts, but satoru’s presence makes it slightly more bearable. “my poor angel. have you been overworking yourself lately?”

you bury your face in his neck, finding comfort in being close to your boyfriend. he presses a feather-light kiss on your forehead, and it makes you want to cry again. “maybe. the headaches are getting worse.”

“you should take it easier on yourself. i can’t have you cryin’ like this. not on my watch,” he remarks, making sure to keep his voice low as not to overwhelm you. “y’know, if your migraines were a person, i’d make sure to hollow purple ‘em. no hesitation.”

a soft laugh escapes you, but you regret it almost immediately as it just intensifies the pain. he lets out an apology, but you just huff.

you close your eyes again, exhaustion taking over as your eyelids grow heavier. satoru slowly releases himself from your vice grip, much to your chagrin. you try and weakly protest, but he just shushes you gently. “just go to sleep, baby. i’ll be right back, okay? when was the last time you ate?”

“hm… i remember having a little bit of breakfast when i woke up-”

“alright.” he says, making a mental note that he should make food. “i’m going to go make you something, okay? i promise i’ll be back soon.”

“...don’t burn down the kitchen, please.”

“i can’t promise that, though.”

“you found the soup packet? okay, finally. now you just turn on the stove…”

satoru’s a little embarrassed to say that he doesn’t know how to cook.

growing up, he’s had practically everything served to him on a silver platter, so he never had to worry about making his own food. and frankly, despite your statement earlier being a joke, he is genuinely afraid to burn the house down. so, he has his best friend suguru on a video call right now, teaching him–gojo satoru, a twenty-eight-year-old man–how to make instant soup.

“the stove?”

“yeah…? don’t tell me you don’t know-”

“-no, no. i know how to turn the stove on. of course i do.” it feels like he’s trying to convince himself more than suguru. the camera shows satoru in his kitchen, sweating profusely and glaring at the stove like it’s his biggest enemy. satoru has fought countless curses in his life, has had near-death experiences multiple times, and even faced the king of curses himself, but he thinks that everything pales in comparison to this task. he tries to turn the knob, but it won’t budge. “what the hell?-“

“satoru-” it seems like the azure-eyed man doesn’t hear him as he keeps trying to turn on the stove (suguru swears he hears him muttering the phrase “with this treasure i summon”, but that’s not even his technique). he can’t help but facepalm for the hundredth time during the duration of this call. “satoru!”

he finally gets his attention, and satoru looks at his phone and sees geto with a look that screams “are you fucking kidding me?”—or really, just a look of utter disappointment. “you’re turning the stove the wrong way.”

“...”

he turns the knob the opposite way, and the burner sets ablaze instantly.

“oh, yeah… um, i definitely knew that.”

“satoru, how do you survive whenever you’re not on a mission?”

“sometimes i think about that too, really. i think it’s because y/n is the one who always cooks.”

“you think i can’t tell already?”

much to both of their surprise, satoru managed to make a pot of tomato soup. it only took him approximately forty-five minutes. satoru seems so proud of himself, meanwhile suguru looks so ready to block his number and never talk to him again.

he pours some of the soup into a bowl, and places it on a tray. he also takes a few painkillers from the medicine cabinet–along with a bottle of water. he thanks suguru for helping him, and is about to hang up but stops short when his best friend freezes. “wait, hold on. did you turn off the stove?”

and after making suguru swear on his life to never speak of this event to you and airing out the house to get rid of the smell of smoke, gojo satoru, “the strongest”, thinks he’s the first ever man to somehow burn a pot full of soup.

“it’s an impressive feat, really.” he claims.

suguru just says that he should never be allowed near a kitchen ever again, and satoru actually finds it in himself to silently agree.

an hour has passed, and he sets the tray on the nightstand, relieved that the past hour of his life is finally over, never wanting to do that ever again. you’re sleeping soundly on the bed, and he almost doesn’t have the heart to wake you up, but he knows that you have to eat something. he turns the nightlight on and gently taps you on the shoulder as you wake up with a stir. “toru? s’that you?”

“it’s me. can you wake up for me, baby? i promise you can sleep again after, but you need to eat.” when you slowly sit up from your sleeping position, he places the tray on your lap and softly coaxes you to eat. you take a spoonful of soup into your mouth, relishing in the flavor as you’re just now realizing how hungry you are.

“this is good,” you say, letting out a smile. the nap helped you come back to your senses a little, and you can finally breathe a little easy now that the pounding in your head has eased. “didn’t know you could make this.”

“yeah, well, you better savor it.” cause i’m never making that again.

when you finish the soup, you swallow a few painkillers while taking a greedy gulp of water from the bottle on the tray.

just in case the pain comes back, you think. though you really, really wish that it wouldn’t.

satoru sets the tray on the nightstand, and you settle back into the covers, wanting to just sleep the rest of the day away. satoru follows not long after, turning off the nightlight and letting out a yawn.

you bury your face in his neck once more, kissing him on the cheek. “thank you, for um—for all of this.”

“s nothing. just promise that you won’t overwork yourself again, okay?” he says, carefully caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“i’ll try not to.”

“hey, you can’t say just that. you have to say, ‘i promise not to overwork myself again, toru. i love you, and thank you for the tomato soup.’” he says while poorly imitating your voice, and you can’t help but laugh.

“okay, okay. i promise not to overwork myself again, love. i love you so, so much.” you say while peppering kisses all over his face, and he’s so glad that the lights are off so that you’re unable to see how his cheeks are beet red. “thank you for taking care of me… and for the soup. it was good.”

and as your eyelids begin to grow heavy once more, satoru thinks that his efforts aren’t in vain after all. because the sight of you, finding comfort in his presence, stirs a little bit of determination from within him. and maybe, just maybe, he’d take it upon himself to learn how to properly cook, not just (partially burnt) instant soup, but a real meal for the next time that you’re feeling like this.

and as he watches your chest rise up and down as you sleep, he can’t help but whisper, “yeah. next time, i’ll make you more than just soup. i’ll cook something special, just for you. ‘nd i won’t burn the pot again, either.”

because for you, satoru would do anything as long as he gets to see you happy. and part of that includes learning how to (properly) make tomato soup… and more.

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x you #gojo x reader #gojo satoru fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru comfort #gojo comfort

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demontobee · 9 months

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Good Omens is queering TV/storytelling - part 1: GAZE

I would argue that part of why Good Omens is so refreshingly queer is because it does not cater to the male gaze (which centers around the preferences - aesthetic, romantic, sexual, visual, logical, emotional, political ... - of mainly white men in positions of power):

no oversexualization of groups or types of people: Women or characters that could be read as female presenting are not overly sexualized. In fact, some of them are shown to be grimy, slimy and not sexual at all. All of them are real characters and not just cardboard-cutout on-screen versions of male misogynistic fantasies. They portray real people with real people problems. They are human, or exempt from our categories when portraying angels or demons. There are no overly sexualized bodies in general (as has so far also often been the case with young gay men, PoC, etc.), no fetishization of power imbalances, and not exclusively youthful depiction of love and desire.

sex or sexual behavior is not shown directly (yet): All imagery and symbolism of sex and sexuality is used not to entice the audience but is very intimately played out between characters, which makes it almost uncomfortable to watch (e.g., Aziraphale being tempted to eat meat, Crowley watching Aziraphale eat, the whole gun imagery).

flaunting heteronormativity: Throughout GO but especially GO2, there is very little depiction of heterosexual/romantic couples; most couples are very diverse and no one is making a fuss about it. There is no fetishization of bodies or identities. Just people (and angels and demons) being their beautiful selves (or trying to).

age: Even though Neil Gaiman explained that Crowley and Aziraphale are middle-aged because the actors are, I think it is also queering the idea of romance, love and desire existing mainly within youthful contexts. Male gaze has taught us that young people falling and being in love is what we have to want to see, and any depiction of love that involves people being not exactly young anymore is either part of a fetishized power imbalance (often with an older dude using his power to prey on younger folx) or presents us with marital problems, loss of desire, etc. – all with undertones of decay and patronizing sympathy. Here, however, we get a beautifully crafted, slow-burn, and somehow super realistic love story that centers around beings older than time and presenting as humans in their 50s figuring out how to deal with love. It makes them both innocent and experienced, in a way that is refreshing and heartbreaking and unusual and real.

does not (exclusively) center around romantic/sexual love: I don’t know if this is a gaze point exactly but I feel like male gaze and resulting expectations of what a love story should look like are heavily responsible for our preoccupation with romantic/sexual love in fiction – the “boy gets girl” type of story. And even though, technically, GO seems to focus on a romantic love story in the end, it is also possible to read this relationship but also the whole show as centering around a kind of love that goes beyond the narrow confines of our conditioned boxed-in thinking. It seems to depict a love of humanity and the world and the universe and just the ineffability of existence as a whole.

disability as beautiful and innate to existence: Disability is represented amongst angels by the extremely cool Saraqael and by diversely disabled unnamed angels in the Job minisode. Representation of disability is obviously super important in its own right, but is also queers what we perceive as aesthetically and ontologically "normal". Male gaze teaches us that youth and (physical and mental) health are the desirable standard and everything else is to be seen as a deviance, a mistake. By including disability among the angels, beings that have existed before time and space, the show clearly states that disability is a beautiful and innate part of existence.

gender is optional/obsolete: Characters like Crowley, Muriel and others really undermine the (visual and aesthetic) boundaries of gender and the black-and-white thinking about gender that informs male gaze. Characters cannot be identfied simply as (binary) men or women anymore just by looking at them or by interpreting their personalities or behaviors. Most characters in GO, and especially the more genderqueer ones, display a balance of feminine and masculine traits as well as indiosyncracies that dissolve the gender binary.

Feel free to add your own thoughts on this in the comments or tags!

#good omens s2 #good omens #good omens 2 #go2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #crowley #aziraphale #queer #queer TV #male gaze #thank you neil gaiman for cranking up the queer #neil gaiman #thank you neil gaiman

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project-sekai-facts · 11 months

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As of posting, it has never been outright stated in the game that Mizuki is transgender, although the fact can be inferred from several hints in the story, mainly from how their classmates act around them. Outside of the story, there are several visual codes that suggest or even confirm the fact that Mizuki is trans.

A lot of color coding and symbolism is used to suggest that Mizuki is transgender, perhaps the most obvious example being their Fragment SEKAI, which uses the same color palette as the transgender pride flag. You can read more about that in this post.

Both the 2D and 3D MVs for IDSMILE, Mizuki's first commissioned song, switch betwen a pink (typically feminine) and blue (typically masculine) color palette, but are pink for the vast majority of the song. In the 2DMV, the background changes to blue for the first part of the final chorus, before returining to pink before the end of the song.

In the 3DMV, the lighting changes to blue during the instrumental, then shifts between pink and blue during the bridge, and then remains as pink for the final chorus.

A similar use of lighting can be seen in Mizuki's trained The One Who Gave Me Courage 4*. Mizuki's room is lit in blue, with pink light filtering in through the window, which Mizuki is leaning towards.

This point was submitted by @glitter-and-strangle-hugs

And if you look closely at Mizuki's Nightcord icon, you'll notice that it uses the same blue, white & pink color palette as the trans pride flag.

This point was via a reply from @misty-is-a-dragon

All of the symbolism and color-coding aside, the fact that Mizuki is transgender is actually confirmed by their middle school appearance. When they were in middle school, Mizuki had a typically masculine haircut and wore more masculine clothes. They also wore Kamiyama's male uniform, indicated by the tie used, the side of the blazer that the buttons are on, and the fact that they are wearing trousers.

You might also notice that in their middle school bedroom, they have a cloth covering their mirror, but in high school the cloth is folded over and the mirror is visible. This could be linked to their appearance at both points in time, and Mizuki being more comfortable with their feminine presentation.

A final, song-based example of Mizuki’s trans coding is that they (alongside Mafuyu) covered Villain, a song with a transgender narrator. Mizuki also has a solo Another Vocal of the cover, which you can listen to in the video above.

The song IDSMILE also adds to the case, since the lyrics describe Mizuki’s situation of being afraid to tell people their secret [about their gender identity] and distancing themself from their friends by keeping it hidden.

#mizuki akiyama #project sekai #cards #2dmv #3dmv #flashing gif tw #flashing lights tw #just in case #apologies for late post. technical issues #now go. win internet arguments #hall of fame

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myun-saidthoughts · 2 months

Text

8th House Synastry Observations

🍄 These types of connections (romantic or platonic) can't be lighthearted; if there is genuine care within the dynamic intensity is very likely.

🍄 You have to consciously tell yourself to "not react" in moments when the other person fails to meet your expectations.

🍄 Emotions flood within you before your brain can logically calm you down.

🍄 Upset facial expressions/elongated eye glances/staring oftentimes can occur when the other person is again *failing to meet expectations.*

🍄 You always will compare how *they* make you feel vs how other people make you feel.

🍄 With other intense synastry aspects (such as more 4h/12h, nodal, or vertex synastry) or genuine care, reading each other just by their eyes alone is extremely easy. Just by a look, you will know how they feel.

🍄 In these connections you may know what not to do, you logically will know that the long period of stares, the obvious dissatisfaction you feel is not really justified usually because of outside factors, the lack of foundation within the connection, or just by the fact there's been little to no communication on either end, and yet that doesn't change or minimize the pain or feelings you have towards them from their actions.

🍄 Even if one person doesn't have natal scorpio/pluto/8th house placements/aspects in their chart, if they care about the other person; they will also have intense expectations on the other person.

🍄 In a platonic opposite-gender connection where one party has a romantic partner, you might understand that their actions towards you should lessen, especially in respect towards their partner but despite that rational understanding, the pull of your connection with them often overrides. Even if a part of you wants to respect their relationship logically and consciously, the underlying need for their attention or care persists.

🍄 In romantic connections (especially with moon/venus in another's 8th house) their eyes (the planet person) tells you it's okay to let that vulnerable side of you that you've shunned out, and without words; that emotional closeness that you've always wished to feel is suddenly fulfilled and with ease.

🍄 8th house connections undertake more Plutonian energy. If you are un-healed, then their actions or lack thereof can ignite parts of your character that you don't even recognize.

🍄 If you struggle with BPD/BPD tendencies then connections that take on more 8th house/pluto synastry will feel enticing and familiar, you are more likely to be drawn to the intense high and lows that this connection brings.

🍄 The deep rooted attraction with these connections mainly lies in the fact that you can allow yourself to feel emotionally close and vulnerable to someone else, the more you crave expressing emotional vulnerability the more attractive they become to you. (especially with objective/attraction synastry aspects)

🍄 Once their actions or once certain consist factors/situations creates a severe emotional blockage between you and them; the less desirable they will feel to you (especially so if you struggle with polarizing emotions)

🍄 It could be months since you've spoken to them, months since their eyes have met yours and if you still struggle with emotional acceptance/self love/self worth/self value; then a longing for them might ignite in any abrupt moment (whether it be from a photo of them, running into a mutual friend, from reading a cathartic quote that reminds you of them) a spark that once persisted for so long will make it's self known, and the part of you that you thought you said good-bye too, might reappear again.

🍄 8th house connections consist of cycles and loops, it's a dilemma of letting go to longing, it's understandable to sometimes have these waves of wanting even if you logically know you shouldn't.

🍄 Longing for one another on both ends (all that needs to be present is sincere care) can occur.

🍄 The longing you feel if they do leave your presence is the part of you that craves emotional closeness and serenity.

🍄 Logically you may know and have objective expectations of how they should treat you because of other factors and yet certain expectations or desires you have within will persist.

🍄 Even if nothing substantial or foundational ever occurred between the two of you, the reactions within you might reenact as if the two of you dated for months, years even.

🍄 In romantic/attraction based relationships, and if you share 12th/South Node synastry/conjunctions with them; then you might feel this underlying tension to stay loyal to them.

Example:

For the more anxious type or with natal 12th/8th influence: At a party you focus on not giving another person too much attention because you feel they might get jealous or upset, even if there's nothing foundational. You only focus on their eyes in the room, and you make sure to showcase that your undivided attention is on them; even if they don't do or say anything to receive that loyal behavior. You can't help it.

For the more avoidant type or without natal 12th/8th influence (or no attraction even): You might overcompensate and try to talk/give attention to other people in front of them to showcase how "little" you care; so you may try to act like they are unimportant. This behavior could be out of insecurity, especially if this occurs when you feel jealous/or if they didn't exceed an expectation you had. It also could stem from the fact you feel fearful that you care and it feels uncomfortable that you dislike when they receive attention from others. (another note is if you're avoidant and when you get too much attention from someone else, you may realize how little you care about the 'distraction' you asked for and you'll start to wish the person in front of you was person you share 8th house synastry with)

The loops!! Cycles!! Staring! Longing! You want them then you don't, then you do, then you don't.

💞 In these observations each individual has to be emotionally prepared and open to emotional closeness, if someone is emotionally and spiritually un-evolved then no matter how "open" you naturally feel with them, that should never justify reoccurring pain or abuse that the other party causes 💞

#astrology #astro notes #astro observations #12th house synastry #8th house synastry #8h synastry #12h synastry #8th house #astrology notes #pluto synastry #8th house astrology #astrologers #astrology thoughts #moon conjunct pluto #venus conjunct pluto #moon square pluto #neptune

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freyito · 8 months

Note

Can you write HDC where Smoke, Kaui Liang and Bihan take care of their girlfriend who's sick? :)

of course! i'm gonna make this for a gender neutral reader tho, since i have a lot of female asks! this might be one of my favorite tropes

cw: fluff!!!, Bi-Han's just a little bit distant, proofread

ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ + ᴀ ꜱɪᴄᴋ ᴘᴀʀᴛɴᴇʀ

Tomas...

worries over you. He's by your side, 24/7, even if you insist he'll get sick too. He doesn't care, he wants to make sure your okay. Tomas is at your beck and call, making sure your comfortable. Feeling cold? He's got three blankets picked out for you, take one, take all. Want a warm bath? Already drawn, he's even got some florals, candles, and soaks picked out. Thirsty? He's got some green tea already brewed. Or, if you don't like tea, he has some orange juice, or water if you so choose. Tomas has some soup for you, too. Česnečka, a Czech garlic soup. Something he says will cure anything. He'll even sing you a Czech lullaby every night, if you ask nicely. Eventually, when you recover from your cold, and Tomas inevitably ends up falling ill, you'll be there to give him the same treatment.

Bi-Han...

doesn't quite know what to do. Yes, he's worried, but amongst being the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei, and his cold demeanor, he believes he doesn't have much time to worry over you. It is only when Liu Kang- of all people- pushes him in the right direction. With his trust over the Lin Kuei in his brothers hand, he never leaves your bedside. Unless you ask, of course. Bi-Han is very soft with you, and really, all he wants to do is hold you. He knows he can't, but it's kind of hard to hold himself back! While he doesn't know what to do, he will do anything you ask of him, short of kissing you. Bi-Han, unlike Tomas, has some restraint, and he'd rather have you save your strength, and not have to worry about him after your sick. Ask, and ye shall receive. Down to the very specifics. As many blankets as you want, as many pillows as you want, the exact temperature of your bath, what herbs could make you feel better, how to carry you, etc. And, as much as Bi-Han wants you to rest, ultimately, he'll end up giving into those pretty eyes of yours, and go on a walk with you. It's okay, though, the fresh air will do you some good.

Kuai Liang...

dotes over you. He's afraid of you being sick, even if it is just a common cold. Somehow, seeing you weak and bedridden makes his stomach churn. He's worried sick. It's only when Bi-Han tells Kuai Liang to be with you that he fully devotes himself to your care. He is very physically present, he has to be touching you somewhere. Mainly, he keeps your pinkies linked, even in the slightest. The minute he was freed of his duties he had gotten you everything you could possibly need. He has so many teas chosen for you, and even more spicy foods. He wants to make sure you eat well, but Kuai Liang can't say no to you, so when you ask for a cookie, a slice of cake, something sweet that you maybe should avoid, he's still going to get it for you. He will always carry you to your bath, too. And wash your hair. As long as whatever he's doing helps you feel better in any way, he doesn't mind. And afterwards, he'll put new, clean sheets on your bed. Kuai Liang doesn't give himself much room to fail, much less to fail you. So, when you finally regain your strength, it is almost as if Kuai Liang is a new man, more focused and lethal than ever.

#⁺◟freyito #mortal kombat 1 x reader #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #smoke x reader #tomas vrbada x reader #scorpion x reader #kuai liang x reader

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killerpancakeburger · 1 month

Text

Breaking Point (1/2)

SUMMARY: Civilian!Reader, who works as Price's assistant, has a breakdown at work. Soap+Ghost help the best they can. Hurt/comfort. Can be read as platonic or romantic. Gender Neutral Reader.

PAIRINGS: Ghost x GN!Reader

Soap's version.

TAGS: Hurt/comfort. Military inaccuracies (I make shit up for the sake of the plot). Ghost is... Ghost; taciturn, blunt, aloof, but Not An Asshole, protective, trustworthy, He's Trying ☆.

WARNINGS: Mention of relative in the hospital, suicide ideation, depressive thoughts, swearing. Ghost's part is significantly darker than Soap's (in terms of suicide ideation, not as in he's a yandere).

WORDS COUNT: 3.6k

A/N: Very self-indulgent, Reader is going through it and so am I. 🙃 Ghost role-plays (NOT SEXUAL) as the world's worst psychiatrist. Yours truly suggest to listen to "Strong For Somebody Else" by Citizen Soldier to set the mood. (Song includes suicide ideation and depressive thoughts too, so listen at your own risk).

The news you’ve just been told cannot be real. Life could not possibly be that cruel. What did I do to deserve this? you wonder helplessly. It’s like every time you get back up, life knocks you down again, sending you tumbling on the cold, hard ground.

After ending the call, you put down your phone on your desk in a daze, hand shaking.

Clenching your fists, you stare into space, a thousand thoughts disorderly swirling inside your brain, all bursting with anguish, until a burning tear running down your cheek brings you back to the present. You’re at work, your boss is in the next room; a breakdown is a luxury you cannot afford right now. Better bite your tongue hard enough to draw blood than be caught sobbing.

Inhaling a shaky breath, you take your head between your hands, shoving your fingers into your hair, trying to convince yourself to postpone your nervous collapse. Only one hour left, and you’ll be free to cry your eyes out at your flat. Or on the way home, even. It’s not like the other passengers ever paid you attention the other times you’ve cried on the bus.

But somehow your attempts have the opposite effect, and more tears roll down your face, staining the papers beneath it. As you furiously wipe your face with your sleeve, with a blend of frustration and despair, pissed at yourself, and wanting to get rid of the evidence of your fragile state as fast as possible, the unmistakable sound of your office’s door opening makes you look up.

The sight of the dark, bulky silhouette standing in the frame does nothing to appease your worries - quite the opposite. Of freaking course of all bloody people that could have walked in on you, it had to be fucking Ghost. The most intimidating - not to say terrifying - man on the whole base, but also the most cryptic.

Towering over 190cm and built like few were, even on a military base, you had recoiled despite yourself the first time you met. Every single detail regarding him was redacted - you knew because you had checked his file, consumed by curiosity -, including his own face - unvaryingly covered by a black mask adorned with a white skull. That semblance of halloween mask and an alias was all that he shared with the world.

He dispensed his words in dribs and drabs to a handful of privileged people, which seemed limited to your supervisor, Captain Price, who was also his direct superior, and his teammates of the Task Force 141. He couldn’t have offered you more than ten syllables in the six months you’ve been there. Yet, everyone knew who he was, what he was capable of, and crowds systematically parted with his passage like the Red Sea.

You had wisely taken the resolution to not heed the rumors about him, which ranged from hardly believable to frankly ridiculous, but you couldn’t help the knot in your stomach every time he was nearby. It wasn’t only his imposing stature that put you on edge, but mainly the fact that he was always impassive. His mask effectively hid his emotions, sure, but his voice didn’t let anything show through either. Most of the time you had no idea what he was thinking or feeling, leaving you puzzled at how to interact with him. Not that there were that many interactions to begin with, but the few that happened left you with a lasting impression.

However you were pleased with yourself after you quit agonizing over his opinion of you, focusing instead on doing your best to treat him like the other soldiers. He may not be friendly, but he never had been disrespectful either.

You stare at him in horror, a deer in the headlights, unable to emit a sound. You didn’t even have the time to fabricate a bunch of excuses to get you out of this situation.

Shit, shit, shit. What do I do? WHAT DO I DO?

“Ya good?”

His tone is gruff, as it always is, but not hostile. The question feels like a way out of this awkward situation, a lifebelt. You cling onto it like you're lost at sea.

Maybe you can still turn this around - pretend everything is OK. He will follow the implicit rules of politeness and leave you to it.

You hasten to reply.

“Yeah, yeah, it's fine. I'm fine.”

As you finish drying your face, he steps into the room, stopping in front of your desk.

“Did you need something?”

Your voice automatically switches to “customer service” mode, and you plaster a fake smile on your face. The mental image of a puppet, strings forcing the corner of its lips to lift, comes to your mind.

Ghost doesn't respond. His eyes are searching your face like it's an encrypted message that could provide a target's position.

Your smile vacillates under his scrutiny. The examination is cold, clinical; there's no warmth nor sympathy in those brown eyes.

“Doesn't look fine to me.”

He announces the statement like a fact, voice dull, neutral. He doesn't provide sympathy, but he doesn't cast judgment either. It’s not less irritating though.

Your first instinct is to snap at him, tell him to mind his own business, ask why he even cares. You resist it. Picking quarrels will only make matters worse. You grit your teeth and lie some more, trying to sound carefree.

“It's nothing, really. I'm just being a crybaby.”

Crybaby.

Ghost turns the word over in his mind, unconvinced. He still recalls vividly the moment he stopped considering you like another faceless office worker amongst others and made an effort to remember your name.

He was mindlessly killing time in the break room with Gaz and Soap until you showed up at the door, a forced smile on your face, attempting to look casual but your body language betraying your nervousness. He spotted you first, the other two engaged in a lively conversation. Relief spread on your face when you saw he had noticed you, sparing you the trouble of having to call out for him, and you approached.

“Ghost, can I have a word? … in private?”

He straightened up from the wall he was leaning on and followed you wordlessly, feeling the prying stares of his teammates lingering on him. You stopped in the hallway to face him.

“You forgot to fill out the medical part in your last report.”

Fingers linked together, you were anxiously twiddling your thumbs. His eyes followed the movement unconsciously.

“I haven't.”

You frowned in uncomprehension.

“Your medical file said-”

“I know what the medical file said,” he retorted firmly, hoping that you would understand his intention without him having to spell it out loud.

The furrow in your brows didn’t go away, quite the contrary.

“You want me to lie.”

The statement wasn’t an accusation, but a request for confirmation.

“You catch on quick.”

The sarcasm and patronization unintentionally slipped into his voice. You were just a newbie trying to do your job well, after all. However the others before you never took the trouble to confront him about this, either out of fright or negligence, and this felt like a waste of his time.

He watched you search his face for something, an explanation, a way out? You bit your lips, conflicted, before replying:

“No.”

“No?” he repeated, raising a skeptical eyebrow that you couldn’t see, crossing his arms. He didn’t know whether to be annoyed or amused. He wasn’t used to being turned down anymore, except for so few individuals, like Price or Laswell, that they could be counted on the fingers of one hand. That the first person to oppose him in so long wasn’t an uptight high ranking or a gutsy enemy, but you, an average civilian, was definitely a surprise.

“I'm not taking that risk”, you added with a determination he didn’t expect.

“Ya wouldn’t be takin’ any. Nobody will be none the wiser.”

“That's not what I- urgh. I am not letting you go back injured on the field! I don't care if you're the ghost or whatever, you’re not invulnerable. So either you fill that damn file or I'm telling Price.”

“Oh? You'd snitch on me?”

“I'd do it to save your life, yeah.”

And with that, you shoved the papers in his chest, turned around and walked away. You had barely disappeared around the corner that he was already mentally calling himself a bloody idiot. Why had it been so tempting to provoke you? Because out of nowhere your usually bashful self showed audacity? Because you were absurdly hellbent on defending his expandable life? No matter the reason, he started to look at you differently from that day on.

Clearly you and him had a different definition of “crybaby”.

He deposits the stack of files he had been holding on your bureau, but as you reach to seize them, he covers your hand with his own and leans in.

You would have stared in disbelief at his gloved hand over yours if the proximity of his face wasn’t a much more pressing matter. You can feel your face warm up and you loathe it.

“Those'll still be there tomorrow, love.”

You blink in surprise at the pet name. It's like you're a spooked horse and he's trying to soothe you with sweet nothings.

“But the paperwork-”

“Fuck the paperwork.”

Easy for him to say.

“But Price-”

“I'll deal with Price.”

“My mom's in the hospital”, you brutally admit, having run out of pretext.

You look each other in the eye for what seems forever.

“Ye take yer coffee with three sugars, yeah?”

“Uh, yeah?”

You reply hesitantly, stunned by the ask that, a priori, has nothing to do with your wholehearted confession. How did he even know that? The words have barely left your lips that he already disappeared into the corridor. You stare in disbelief at the door, mouth agape. You poured your fucking heart out and that socially inept bastard in his goofy ass halloween costume just ditched you after wringing the truth out of you like you were an interrogated enemy soldier.

Sipping the content of your mug with the Ghost's unblinking stare fixated on you is an unsettling experience, to say the least. Seated on the chair facing your desk, legs wide open, wearing a black hooded sweatshirt and gray pants, one hand holding his mug of tea, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since he sat down.

Does he seriously not realize how unnerving his starring is?

He exudes an aura of tranquil power; the unchallenged authority of someone who is used to being obeyed without question, combined with the nonchalance that comes with being unmatched. Even casually sprawled like this, he remains formidable.

A few minutes ago, he set down a steaming mug in front of you and a box of tissues - a delicate attention that sent a pang in your chest -, before taking a seat. The fingers of his free hand are softly taping his knee.

“Guess I won’t need to kill anyone tonight,” he declares in a detached manner.

You blink in incomprehension at that.

“But you don’t have a mission tonight…”

“Won’t have to kill anyone for makin’ ya cry,” he clarifies.

“Oh.”

What else can you possibly reply to that? The murder machine lounging in front of you has enough confirmed kills to make a sniper of legend green with envy.

“So…”, you initiate, not without uncertainty, “is this the moment where I get everything off my chest?”

“Do whatever ya want.” he placidly counters, shrugging.

It really, considerably, sounds like he doesn't care at all; but if he did, he wouldn’t be here.

You take a deep breath, staring at your desk.

“She's in the ICU. Paralyzed, intubated, put in a coma.”

Tears flood your eyes again. This time you don't try to fight them.

“I'm terrified for her. But, what's worse is…”

You swallow your saliva; blink in rapid succession - the tears sting.

“I can’t help but think the worst. About what'll become of me without her.”

Water overflows your eyes. The dam ruptures abruptly. Raw honesty spills from your lips.

“She’s all I have. Without her, I have nothing. I am nothing.”

The ensuing silence is deafening. You wonder what the hell you’re doing. There’s something about the man in front of you that, paradoxically, makes you want to confide in him. Despite his lack of warmth, he feels steady, reliable. A rock to lean on when your whole world is crumbling. Solid ground when it feels like everything is caving in around you. Like you could lay all your burdens on him and he wouldn’t even flinch under what feels like the weight of the world.

You feel awfully selfish to entertain that thought, but you doubt he'd ever give you the opportunity to return the favor.

“Bollocks.”

His tone is surlier than before. You look up at him to be sure you heard correctly.

“What about yer job? Ye enjoy it, right?”

You scoff bitterly at that.

“It's just a temporary gig. I'll be kicked out in two months.”

“We can make it permanent.”

You shoot him an incredulous look.

“You're just saying that.”

“‘M not. Wouldn't lie just to make ye feel better. Not my style.”

A cynical chuckle escapes you before a mischievous smirk stretches your lips.

“I’m sorry big guy, when did you get nominated as the commander of the base? Cause as far as I know this is outside your jurisdiction.”

A similar smile spreads behind his mask. He’d take your sass over your tears any day.

“I have my ways,” he replies tranquilly.

From anyone else, you’d call it bragging or bluffing. Coming from the Ghost, it doesn’t sound as anything but the truth. He stares at you intensely, as if daring you to doubt him again, or intent on proving you his integrity through gaze alone.

You look away, your cheeks heating up.

Ghost never minded that you can’t maintain eye contact. Just like he’s not into small talk, or physical contact. He knows most people tend to take it the wrong way, interpret it as contempt, when it couldn't be further from the truth.

“Thank you, but I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“I’d feel like I’m manipulating you.”

He chuckles darkly, sending a shiver crawling down your spine, one you do not know if it was born of fear entirely or attraction.

“Oh sweetheart, you couldn’t even if you tried.”

Another tingle. Definitely pleasant this time. You desperately busy yourself with the content of your mug, the effects of that sentence on you too intense for the solemnity of the situation.

Your strategy proves itself fruitful until a movement at the periphery of your vision attracts your gaze. You peek without thinking, and freeze at the sight of Ghost lifting his mask above his nose to drink from his cup. One scar crosses his mouth, another departs from the corner of his lips, both ancient but deep. They don’t faze you though - truth be told, the omnipresent mask made you expect him to look like a world war one veteran, so heavily disfigured that you wouldn’t be able to bear it.

“Enjoyin’ the view?”

He doesn’t sound even remotely annoyed, but you lower your eyes in shame all the same.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have.”

“If I didn’t wantcha to look, I wouldn’t have taken it off.”

As you need a moment to take in the implications of that sentence, he talks again.

“What's your poison?”

“Pardon?” you reply, genuinely lost.

He snorts at your exaggerated politeness.

“Coffee isn’t gonna cut it. Whataya usually take when you feel like this? Alcohol? Cigs?”

A pause.

“Sex?”

You choke and set down your mug out of fear of dropping it.

“No, no… and no.”

“Nothing?”

He sounds doubtful.

“I… cry myself to sleep?”

It makes no sense to formulate it like a question, but everything about this is surreal.

He hums, contemplative.

“You’re not making this easy.”

“What?”

“Helpin’ ya.”

You scoff, suddenly irritated.

“You could lend me one of your guns and let me blow my brains off with it. That would help.”

“Not gonna happen,” he counters with emphatic authority that leaves no place for rebuttal.

“Worth a shot,” you say, trying to get the last word. “Ha, shot. Get it?”

“Very funny.”

You roll your eyes at his comment, like he’s a tired parent indulging you, a tireless child.

“You just don’t have any humor.”

The words left your lips before you could consider their impact. Yes, you never heard the Ghost laugh, but maybe he has a very good reason for that. Maybe several. Maybe you’re just a fucking asshole.

“Why are colds bad criminals?”

Your head pivots towards him so fast you fear your neck is going to snap.

“Why…?”

“Because they’re easy to catch.”

You stare at him in bewildered silence, not quite believing what just happened, before starting to laugh, first softly, then, carried away, louder and louder, bordering on hysterical. You don’t even giggle because of the joke, but because the contrast between the silliness of it and how deadpan Ghost was when enunciating it is simply too good. That, and the nerves are probably getting the better of you.

“Never had anyone laugh that much at this one before.”

You attempt to get your breath back, alternating between pants and laughs, wiping a solitary tear at the corner of your eye.

“It’s just… you… I didn’t see it coming, jeez.”

Sighing wistfully, you take in the quietude of this fleeting moment.

“This is nice.”

“I'm always nice,” grunts the lieutenant.

You let out a good-natured scoff, then reality catches up to you.

“SHIT! What time is it!?” you shout in panic as you violently get up. “Maybe I can still catch a bus-”

You log out of your work session, turn off your PC and shove all your belongings inside your bag in record time. Ghost barely bats an eye, still like a languid cat; a very big, very dangerous cat.

“You can spend the night.”

“No I can’t!”

You push your chair under your desk and pick up your coat.

“We can make some sorry bloke sleep outside.”

“Noooo- That's horrible!”

You have no idea if he’s messing with you or not.

“Not worse than what's waiting for ‘em on the field.”

“Well, I still can’t do that.”

“Good for you that I can, then.”

You finally look at him, an half-amused smile on your lips, raising a skeptical eyebrow.

“Lemme guess. This is you ‘having your ways’ again, isn’t it?”

His offer is tempting. You really don’t want to be left to your own devices tonight.

He stands up and takes a step towards you while pulling his mask down and, oh, with him sitting this all time, you would have almost forgotten how much he towers over you.

“S’that a yes or a no?”

You could almost detect a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“It’s a yes, sir,” you retort while pronouncing the “sir” with as much impertinence as you can muster.

“Better keep up, then.”

And just like that, he vacates the premises, and you do have to focus to keep up because those long legs of his ain’t just for show.

As you two travel across corridors unknown to you, you wonder once again what the hell you’re doing, hanging out with this mountain of a man who’s more myth than human, and breaking the rules of a military base on a whim. Lost in thought, you don’t pay attention to the voices edging closer, and you’re completely taken aback when Ghost grabs you by the back of your shirt and drags you in a dark alcove with him. You’re so astounded, you don’t even make a sound. He takes hold of the back of your head and presses you against him to occupy as little space as possible, effectively hiding you from the men walking by. Only then you recognize Captain Price among other officers.

“Sorry ‘bout that, love,” whispers the man you’re squeezed against, barely audible, imperturbable as ever, like this is an everyday situation for him.

You don’t answer - you can’t, anyway, essentially muffled by his pecs. You should be more irked by those circumstances, but the sudden proximity set your face ablaze, therefore you’re very happy with its current concealment.

“Price will have my head if he thinks I made you cry.”

You’re about to protest, but then you remember that one time when Soap tagged along when you were carrying a huge box back from the archives, and when Price saw you two, Soap unconcerned with empty hands, and your face almost disappearing behind the imposing cardboard, he called the sergeant a bloody useless muppet and then proceeded to call into question his ability to transport his rucksack for days. Nevermind that you were the one who insisted on carrying the crate on your own as it provided a nice workout, and that you had to bare your teeth at Soap to prevent him from taking it from you.

When the peril has walked by and Ghost releases you, you silently thank the shadows around you hiding how affected you are by this ersatz of a hug. Later, he drops you off at an unoccupied bedroom, small but including a bathroom and furnished with everything you could ever want. You say your goodbyes and your thanks at the door, and he. pats. your head. You don’t even have time to be outraged that he states he will see you tomorrow, something that sounds like a promise as much as a threat, probably in reference to the morbid fantasies you shared, and he vanishes into the shadows like a… ghost.

A/N : The real reason Ghost ran out:

He be googling “how to comfort female civilian age between 20 and **”

In the TF Group Chat (Price not included):

“We have an emergency.”

“Send as many kitten pics as possible to [Reader] … stat.”

#mine #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty x reader #cod mwii #cod mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #cod fanfic #cod fic #ghost x reader #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #ghost fluff #hurt/comfort #cod fluff

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aphroditelovesu · 6 months

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Yan!Mom Rhaenyra Targaryen/Yan!Dad Laenor Velaryon Headcanons (Platonic)

❝ 🐉— lady l: hi... So, it just freaked me out and I needed to write this, kind of like a base for Valyrian Heritage part 2... I hope you like it and forgive me for any mistakes! ❤️

❝tw: obsessive and possessive behavior, unhealthy platonic relationships, mention of mutilation and war, messy writing.

❝ 🐉pairing: platonic!yan!mom rhaenyra targaryen and yan!dad laenor velaryon x gender neutral!reader, platonic yandere!hotd x gn!reader.

Rhaenyra and Laenor have always gotten along well, although not so close, they were always friendly with each other and even came to an agreement after their marriage. They would live their own lives and be free to love someone else.

The few times they slept together were not for pleasure, but to try to conceive an heir. And it worked, when Rhaenyra discovered she was pregnant just a few months after her wedding, much to everyone's delight.

You were the only child born of their marriage, well, at least the only legitimate one. There was no doubt about your legitimacy, since you were a copy of your father when you were born and became more like your mother as you grew up.

They loved you unconditionally, there are not enough words to describe how much they love you. They say you never love anything on the world the way you love your first child and that's true when it comes to your parents. They love all of their other children, but it's pretty clear how attached they are and favor you more than anyone else.

Laenor is the most attached to you, however, as you were his child. Really his. And although he loved your brothers who were born after you, there was no doubt that he preferred you above them all. You were the apple of your father's eye, you could never do anything wrong in his eyes and he will fight anyone who says otherwise.

Rhaenyra loved you with all her heart, the first moment she placed you in her arms for the first time was like a blessing, a gift from the gods old and new. You were her precious, her most precious treasure and nothing and no one will take you away from her. No one steals what belongs to a dragon and gets away with it.

You were not only spoiled and loved by your parents, but also by your grandparents. Rhaenys and Corlys adored you, simple as that, they spoil you more than anyone and always take you to Driftmark when Rhaenyra allows it. Corlys always makes a point of reminding you of your heritage, that you are a Velaryon, and Rhaenys tries to participate as much as possible in your upbringing.

Viserys loved you deeply too, considering that you are his first grandchild and he tries his best to be present in your life. He would often pick you up and sit with you on the Iron Throne, reminding you that one day everything would be yours. And he doesn't even try to hide his favoritism. He knew that if Aemma was still alive, she would love you as much as he does.

Alicent was excessively attached to you too, and although she had grandchildren of her own, she didn't even try to hide how much she preferred your company. Although she has no patience for children, she loves you with all her heart and strongly believes that Rhaenyra is not a good mother for you, a belief that became stronger after the birth of Jacaerys. Otto encourages Alicent's tendencies while cultivating his.

You were the example for your younger brothers, Jacaerys, being the second child, is the clingiest and most protective towards you. He had you first, so you were his first. Lucerys is extremely possessive of your attention and sulks when others get it. Joffrey is the baby and the youngest and so he wants to receive more attention from you.

Your aunt and uncles were very close to you, mainly due to age and because of Alicent's encouragement, who was always sure that you would grow up surrounded by her children.

Aegon is very emotionally dependent on you and is almost always leaning around you, looking for comfort. Helaena loves you with all her heart, she wants to be by your side all the time and she trusts you completely. Aemond is the closest to you, always seeking comfort and confirmation from you, he wants to impress you at any cost. You didn't spend as much time with Daeron, but he misses you and cherishes the memories he has with you.

You were the anchor of your family after the years passed, the only person capable of bringing them all together. Viserys and you had this in common, the desire to reunite the family and you managed it, although it never lasted for long.

All servants were instructed to do your whims and desires. Laenor and Rhaenyra are extremely protective of you and suspicious of anyone who approaches you, especially if it is one of the Greens.

You loved your family, you really loved them, but sometimes all you wanted was to be free from so much pressure. You found fun and ''freedom'' in associating more with your great-uncle, Daemon, who was always taking you away with him, causing your parents to panic. You always came back unscathed, though.

However, you knew you would have to choose a side. After Aemond's mutilation, you found yourself at an impasse when your father sneaked into your room that night and asked you to run away with him. Running away with him means you would be free from your burdens, but the conflict would never stop and would only escalate.

You didn't have any more time. You had to choose between running away with Laenor and escaping the war or staying with Rhaenyra and dealing with the conflicts between the Blacks and the Greens, as well as your overwhelming and possessive family.

Choosing between your father and mother was never something you thought you would do, until this day. The thought of never being able to see Rhaenyra again and hear her reading to you or never seeing your father teaching you how to fight again filled you with fear and anguish. You knew what you had to do, but could you bear the consequences of your choice?

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