#mostly because im nb

[the-sun-is-evil]

im neither cis or trans, but a secret third thing

#gender is a social construct #thank you very much #but srsly #im not cis #but the word trans doesn't rly feel right??? #mostly because im nb #and dont rly get gender dysphoria #it just doesn't feel right #because i dont struggle like trans ppl do #but at the same time #struggling shouldn't have to be part of the trans experience #my feelings on this are rly complicated #this should be a post #not just tags #but im too tired to write anything cohesive rn #trans #nonbinary

[think-queer]

I've been thinking about why in so deeply bothered by people saying that afab enbies who don't look trans are less oppressed than other trans people. Part of it is just that it is either based in enbyphobia/misogyny (seeing afab enbies as women and seeing women as attention seekers with a victim complex) or it's erasing amab enbies (because if 'looking trans' is such an important part of the trans experience then why wouldn't the same apply to amab enbies who aren't visibility trans)

But I've realized that it's also because it reminds me of one of the most common acephobic arguments I saw back when asexuals were the targets of the "discourse" (aka the main target for bullies in online queer spaces) The argument was that no one can tell you're asexual unless you tell them. That mlm and wlw can be clocked in public by homophobes and thus are the targets of violence but asexuals aren't going to be holding hands with the wrong person so clearly we don't experience any type of oppression. At it's heart it's the same argument I see against afab enbies. It's this idea that going through life hiding your actual identity is a privilege, that somehow staying in the closet all the time is fun and easy, it's the idea that the only meaningful form of oppression is random violence from complete strangers, that non-violent bigotry doesn't really matter, and that violence from people you know is somehow less common or less important. It's people acting as though the only reason that someone might seek out queer spaces is to avoid that violence from strangers, and that seeking out queer spaces for emotional support or to form connections is somehow "taking up resources" or an "invasion" of a space where they don't belong. It's the same oppression olympics that I hate with every fiber of my being, that does nothing but turn us against each other and distract from our actual oppressors.

Afab enbies wanting to exist and be acknowledged no matter their gender presentation is not an act of violence against other trans people.

It took me years to come to terms with my asexuality because of the way asexuals were targeted when I was a teenager, and I hate to think that there are going to be people growing up now that struggle to come to terms with their gender identity because of the way enbies are being talked about.

#aromantics were also targeted along with asexuals but the arguments I'm thinking of i remember being directed towards asexuals specifically #aromantics faced lot more erasure if i remember correctly #i am also aro but i mostly see hatred specifically towards alloaros which im not #tqlk #I've just really been thinking about why these things bother me #I'm nb and not visibly trans but thats because I'm still mostly closeted except in certain situations #it bothers me how much people define enbies based off our agab #and that no one ever seems to acknowledge that sometimes people aren't visibly trans bc we're closeted #but i know that when people complain about enbies who 'look cis' they are usually thinking of people who want to present that way #since otherwise those things would apply to all closeted trans people not just nbs

[wipples]

What is it like to lack a sense of agency?

What is it like to have it?

#oc #it's her full outfit no flippin way #sometimes her name is miranda #sometimes her name is Bunny #depends on the fandom LMAO #her bit is always the same though: kinda stupid college student with a knack for urban exploring and nature stuff #she's stupid in the way that junji ito protagonists are: just kinda lets shit happen and doesn't stop it #lets herself fall into the abyss basically because depression is a bitch and she's a little obsessed with escapism #she also hates cops and is a big ol druggie but thats not important for the majority of situations i stick her in #her brain is also weird but thats just bc shes basically me but worse and also better #worse and better how? idk you tell me #she's also nb and goes by any pronouns but defaults to she/her #she's still a boy tho lol #she'd allow you to call her a girl but she mostly likes being called a guy #this bitch wears binders unless going out urban exploring or hiking etc because shit gets sweaty and you should never exercise with them #shes also vaguely southern because im from the south yehaw #mmm grits and pimento cheese yummery #I'LL MAKE A REAL CHARACTER INFO THING ONE DAY maybe

[bonestrouslingbones]

secret blog once again gets secret spoilers jus tbecause. anyway im currently thinking about fluff's whole arc with him getting some fresh new trauma over the present story but then in the epilogue after he gets worse he gets better and stuff. and its pretty rocky but he gets through rehab and he gets through various inpatient therapy programs and he gets his proper medication and stuff and he starts to really feel like he's able to control his own life for the first time ever

and then of course that's when he gets fucking whammed with one hell of a gender crisis

#“hey i think im gonna use they/them for a bit. maybe she? wait no that ones bad. he is ok but im disappointed. they is like a weird shirt” #he tries genderfluid for a short minute and then it just becomes “hey what pronouns are you using rn?” “I DONT KNOW” “lol ok” #i think he'd settle on he/they but he;d mostly be SO annoyed that it didnt hit him until he was ready to end his character arc #no more development for him thank you he's done now!!!! he doesnt need anything else thanks!!!!!!!!! please!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #all this because i accidentally drew him with the nb flag color palette a couple times btw. lmao #fluff

[unxpctedlygreat]

/whispers/ nb sylvain

#no i will not explain #few3h #i need a tag for my few3h ramblings #sylvain #no that's a lie i will explain affbs #Sylvain feeling uncomfortable in a room full of guys because he knows something is Off something is Wrong but he cannot pinpoint what #in a room full of women he's more comfortable because the gender disconnect is 'normal' and obvious #(.. dimilix related tag incoming sorry im unbearable with them) but #on dmlx wedding he's in the bridesmaids room with Mercie Annie and all bc Mercie asked him to come #and he’s genuinely comfortable here and helps the girls get ready #at some point he picks up one of the dresses and jokingly pretend to try it on (like just holding it in front of him) #asking with a wink 'How do I look?' and expecting Mercedes and Annette (and Ingrid) to laugh it off #except Mercie and Annie are definitely just gonna gush bc the dress would look good on him (but it's the wrong size) and tell him he's gorg #gorgeous and all & Ingrid mostly stares at him with an unreadable look in her eyes but she doesnt say a thing& just goes back to her outfit #Sylvain probably half panics and puts the dress back down and says he's got to go get prepared too and leaves in a rush #maybe later after the wedding he finds a package on his bed one day— it's a dress similar to the one he held but definitely his size now #im probably gonna run out of tag space but just know Sylvain gets to try out feminine stuff and is loved & supported by all of his friends #i just really like nb Sylvain

[brothersonahotelbed]

when you're talking to a trans person about their identity & the way they view themselves, there comes a point when you really just need to take a step back and say . i will not, and probably never will be able to understand exactly what this person is feeling. i need to accept that, as much as i want to interrogate and question and throw hypotheticals into the air like they're rice at a wedding, i won't understand what they're going through. i just need to trust that they understand themselves enough to make decisions that are good for them.

#see cause i'm so conflicted. my older sister wants to understand gender identity as it pertains to a trans/nb person like myself #and i love it .i love that she wants to get educated & i love that she's coming to me . an actual trans person. to get that info from #that is so good and nice #but she doesn't realize that no matter how many questions she asks . some things she can't understand because she's cis #i'm trying to explain my gender identity to her and she was just so confused and started trying to put me into a box. #she wanted to know what the ideal version of myself that's in my head is and was so shocked to hear that #my ideal version of myself is who i am right now (same looks same clothes same body same voice) with one simple change: #that no one questions whether im 'really a boy' and no one assumes that im only a girl #she's said 'why even go through the effort to change your pronouns then?' i said well because thats what im comfortable with #and she just doesnt understand it. how i identify mostly as a boy but im not falling over myself trying to get on T or get top surgery #cis people think in such black-and-white ways that it makes me sick #i just need my sister to respect my identity & pronouns and stop asking questions at this point . i can only give her so many answers that #are essentially watered-down versions of what i actually mean #loquitur

[king-sassy08]

Google search queer summer wedding outfits

[Skinny white lesbian in a suit saying 'my friend who is nb said I look good']

[Skinny white person w beard in a skirt]

[Skinny white person w nail polish]

[Token skinny black person in a suit]

Where are the fat people and where are the brown people and WHY is everyone in six layers for a summer wedding

#jay jabbers #just SO krunk ab only skinny people and esp skinny WHITE people being the concievable vision of nb or gender conforming or #'indescribable gender' #like. the internet glorifies anglos as the beauty standard and skinny esp??? #im not saying theyre EVIL or anything so dont get that from this #im SAYING that the way social media and internet capitalism consumerism etc is evil because #they purpisely force THESE folks into the spotlight like LOOK GAZE UPON THEM THESE ARE WHAT U SHOULD LOOK LIKE!!! #like. not enough representation i guess. cause i sure as shit dont feel represented by a middle class white person who faces significantly #less discrimination than i do solely based on the color of their skin no matter how conservative the area is #like??? theres a dude in the klan here whose brother is gay. HES SAFE #but im brown. so im automatically in the sus list. #idk #!!! #jay fucking rambles i guess #nb #queer #nonbinary #mostly #fashion

[matsuropalette]

idk man i just feel like the trans community on here should be past ascribing morality to other people based on their assigned sex at birth and/or current gender. before anyone asks this is about literally everyone in the trans community. none of us are more moral or immoral than anyone else solely because of the body we were born with or how we identify.

#sometimes....... things can be about both how trans women are severely scrutinized villainized and targeted #and how people like afab nb folks are often treated like we're more predisposed to be bigots to everyone around us #because thats mostly what im thinking rn but its applicable to other groups too

[seilon]

minors keep scrolling im gonna say Adult Stuff in the tags

#SIGH #why is most of tinder like. friends-only or hookups-only. like. like where are the people that want both of those things #i. want to get laid and i also need friends #gfjghfjhjdhgjghd #also i dont want to sound gross and bad but to be totally honest for the getting laid part of things im mostly specifically interested in #guys with dicks (or possibly nbs with dicks) so the fact that i keep matching w other trans guys is a bit frustrating #not because i match with them but because of the ratio being so skewed in that direction #like im not as intriguing to amab people or something and hgfjhdfjhfghhhhhh again i hope this doesnt sound shitty of me its just. yeah #idk man idk what im doing im like super fucking anxious now though #cause again im so bad at replying/socializing and im so weird and awkward and uninteresting and rarely have interests that overlap #with people and its ghjfdfhgdfdffejg #i dont have much to offer most people lmao gdfjdhfk #kibumblabs #ignore this #may delete later #part of me REALLY wants to buy tinder gold to see who's liked me and all that but its 30 bucks and thats. a lot. of money. #its so fucking tempting though god #i wish i could afford it

[mothmvn]

some ladies on here reblog funny and relatable #haha #men posts and then you look in the notes and the % of terfs taking it as an opportunity to say all men should die is, like, significantly above 0, and it makes you wonder

#i say ladies because it mostly is women (and some nb people — others are just as alienated as me by these posts) sharing them #sometimes it's trans women reblogging it too lol the kind of shared girlhood defined by antimanhood jokes #anyway as a trans faggot immigrant from a country that got to war recently i think we could all do with more empathy to go around #including empathy towards groups you think of as hashtag oppressors. im dead serious. #personal

[floorpancakes]

i love clamp in a complex beautiful way but sometimes i see certain ships and its like that meme of the guy getting light blasted in his face being knocked back cause these girlies like their shit messy douwata are like that meme that's like oh thank god im the only normal one here but like actually

#i cant wait to deep dive into all the clamp properties i havent yet i just get the feeling nothing will hit the same #i would suspect kurofai because its been linked to my otp at birth by clamp government but im gonna be real #i do not like kurogane very much from the hundred or so chapters i read but in like a funny way #fai is so annoying and he hides layers i know some spoilers abt bcs its inevitable but #i genuinely love a bitch whose entire grift is to be gay and annoying i relate and it lights up a room #girls who are irritating <3 #hes also the treasured gay husband of choice of a treasured oomf i could never hate him thats my oomf in law #i will get back to tsuba eventually but i wasnt enjoying it much without more engagement with CCS/clampverse #like i feel like id rather make my way through the back catalog and come back #my brain is all over the place so ill never get to be non chaotic and random about how and when i read little chapters of stuff but #from a brain wants to pick it apart and experience it front id say rgveda and tokyo babylon r probably gonna b priorities #the aesthetics r so different and im MOSTLY spoiler free and they are so interesting #also when i paused my tsuba reading i was spoiiiiled with ashura visuals we love a bad bitch with pronouns #i wish clamp leaned into their nb yaoi flavour more theres something so juicy abt that #sometimes i forget watanuki isnt actually a nb yaoi figurehead in canon because he is in my brain and noones told me im wrong 🫶

[clamorybus]

like i know identity in any sense is really nebulous, and i know its not a new thing, but something about "bisexual lesbian" feels so off to me

#like i know a lot of women id'd as lesbian back in the idea because the word bisexual wasn't widespread yet #but like. the same can be said about bisexual men and the gay label but people aren't insisting that #being a bisexual gay is a thing #and like yes lesbianism isn’t just being a woman4woman because there's a lot of nb people who fit comfortably within lesbianism #the same is true of EVERY sexuality #like there are straight nb people yknow? #its just. if lesbianism feels too restrictive to you you might not be a lesbian you could just be bisexual #like even if you're mostly into women you can still be bisexual bisexuality isn't a 50/50 mix #i don't know #again identity is nebulous yadda yadda yadda #it just feels weird that people are insisting that lesbians can be into men when they don't do that shit for other sexualities #it feels weirdly reminiscent of when straight dudes pull that 'cmoooon sexuality is fluid' bullshit when hitting on lesbians #but whatever im not your fucking mom id however you want #mickey.txt

[chrollohearttags]

𝖜𝖊𝖑𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖙𝖔 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖈𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖞 𝖕𝖎𝖙!

𝑱𝑼𝑴𝑷 𝑰𝑵 𝑰𝑭 𝒀𝑶𝑼 𝑫𝑨𝑹𝑬

𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘸. 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘴 𝘥𝘯𝘪.

THIS IS MY ONLY ACCOUNT! No WattPad or AO3

✨REQUEST COMMISSIONS HERE ✨ (updated12/18/2023)

🍒 about me 🍒

𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚛𝚢 | 𝚝𝚠𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚢𝚜𝚞𝚖 (𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚗 𝚘𝚕𝚍 𝚎𝚗𝚘𝚞𝚐𝚑, 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚖𝚎) | 𝚏𝚊𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚌 𝚠𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚖𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 𝚊 𝚕𝚒𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚗𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚕/𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊 𝚊𝚜 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚕 | 𝚜𝚑𝚎/𝚑𝚎𝚛 | 𝚊𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚌 + 𝚊𝚜𝚎𝚡𝚞𝚊𝚕 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚡 (𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚕𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚝𝚑 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚡𝚎𝚕𝚜 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚢𝚘𝚞.) | 𝚏𝚞𝚛 𝚖𝚘𝚖 𝚝𝚘 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚘𝚘 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚙𝚎𝚝𝚜 |

𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜: 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊, 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚞𝚙, 𝚌𝚘𝚜𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚗𝚊𝚒𝚕 𝚊𝚛𝚝, 𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚌𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚏𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚒𝚖𝚎, 𝚠𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚋𝚘𝚋𝚊 𝚝𝚎𝚊, 𝚒𝚌𝚎𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚏𝚏𝚎𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚝𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝚐𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚖𝚎, 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚒𝚌 (𝚖𝚢 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚊𝚗𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚎, 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚖𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚊𝚞𝚡), 𝚐𝚞𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚛 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚠𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚗 𝙸 𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚞𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚢 𝚙𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚌𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚖.

𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎𝚜: 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜, 𝚋𝚒𝚐𝚘𝚝𝚜/𝚛𝚊𝚌𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚜, 𝚖𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚗 𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚎𝚛𝚊𝚕 (𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔 𝚊𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚏𝚛𝚘𝚖 𝚖𝚎, 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚊𝚛𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚝 𝚌𝚞𝚝𝚎 𝚗𝚘𝚛 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎), 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜, 𝚊𝚗𝚢 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚒𝚊𝚕 𝚖𝚎𝚍𝚒𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚒𝚜𝚗’𝚝 𝙿𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝 𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚕𝚛

✨𝚏𝚊𝚟 𝚜𝚎𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚜 : 𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚡𝚑𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚢𝚞 𝚢𝚞 𝚑𝚊𝚔𝚞𝚜𝚑𝚘, 𝚍𝚛. 𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗𝚎, 𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚊𝚌𝚔 𝚘𝚗 𝚝𝚒𝚝𝚊𝚗, 𝚍𝚘𝚛𝚘𝚑𝚎����𝚘𝚛𝚘, 𝚓𝚓𝚋𝚊, 𝚔𝚘𝚖𝚒 𝚌𝚊𝚗’𝚝 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚎, 𝚖𝚢 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚞𝚙 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚊𝚝𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚝, 𝚌𝚊𝚜𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚗𝚘 𝟸𝟸𝟷: 𝚔𝚊𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚔𝚘, 𝚍𝚎𝚖𝚘𝚗 𝚜𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚎𝚛, 𝚜𝚔𝟾 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚒𝚗𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢, 𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚕𝚊𝚜𝚜𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖, 𝚏𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚕

✨𝚏𝚊𝚟 𝚖𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚊: 𝚓𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜𝚢, 𝚝𝚎𝚗 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝, 𝚌𝚊𝚗𝚍𝚢 𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚘𝚛 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚡, 𝚋𝚊𝚍 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚑𝚊𝚙𝚙𝚢 𝚑𝚘𝚖𝚎, 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚣𝚢 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚍 𝚝𝚛𝚞𝚌𝚔, 𝚔𝚊𝚒𝚓𝚞 𝚗𝚘. 𝟾, 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚜 𝚛𝚞𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚝

📺 • 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚠𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛, 𝚓𝚘𝚓𝚘’𝚜 𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟼, 𝚣𝚘𝚖 𝟷𝟶𝟶, 𝚛𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗𝚎 𝚙𝚒𝚎𝚌𝚎

🎧 • 𝚌𝚞𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚋𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎 𝚋𝚞𝚗𝚗𝚢 𝚎𝚙 • 𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚗𝚎𝚛 𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚕𝚕, 𝚠𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚍𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚍𝚒𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚋𝚞𝚖 • 𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚘, 𝚠𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚊𝚒𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚗 • 𝚑𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚘𝚗, 𝚍𝚊𝚛𝚔𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚍𝚘𝚠𝚋𝚕𝚞𝚗𝚝𝚜 • 𝚋𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚜

🍒 writing info, rules, etc. 🍒

fandoms: attack on titan, demon slayer, hunterxhunter, jujutsu kaisen, tokyo revengers, kuroko no basket, haikyuu, one piece

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all my wishes 🥧

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[manicpixiefelix]

head, heart, hand. {Felix Catton/Reader/Oliver Quick}

Part 13.

Summary: As you promised, you spend the morning with Farleigh as moral support for Oliver's upcoming visit. Perhaps getting reasonably high and discussing your sex life wasn't the best move, all things considered, but it definitely seemed like a good idea at the time.

{ masterpost }

Need to Know: They/Them. Explicitly NB Reader. FWB!Reader/Felix. Reader is from a well off family but has pretty much been adopted by the Cattons.

Warnings: suggestive themes, kind of explicit discussions about sex, reader gets high and is high for the second half of the chapter (based on my experiences & understanding of weed)

A/N: 6673 words. OH WE ARE SO BACK. we get to spend more time with farleigh this chapter, i love him so very much omg. also the reader's experiences/behaviour while stoned is definitely reflective of my experience, and everyone experiences these things differently so that's that. also felix being down So Bad for the reader when they're high because of how fucking adorable he thinks they are??? man is In Love. but please, leave a comment letting me know how we're feeling about getting back into it after a break for some AU and oneshot shenanigans! next chapter will be from oliver's POV and im THRILLED about it.

TAGLIST IN COMMENTS!! // TAGLIST ALWAYS OPEN ! (just message or comment to be added)

----

On your first morning back at Saltburn, you wake to the smell of cigarette smoke. Felix is beside you, sitting up against his headboard, cigarette in one hand and book in the other. Groggily you lean over, bumping your forehead to his lowered elbow, and he smiles down at you. In the morning light, Felix is ethereal; at Saltburn, in his element, completely relaxed and at home, he glows.

You'd lost count of how many times you'd woken up next to him, it feels like hundreds, possibly thousands at this point, but something about this, the thousand and first, is different. Is better. Soon enough this dream-space will be broken by the idea of breakfast, and the anticipation of Oliver arriving, but right now you bask in this one, tiny piece of perfect.

Your room.

"My Felix," you mumble mostly to yourself in the morning light. It's more like a sigh, like a dreamy reminder of the Summer to come. Felix goes pink, which you don't even see, eyes closed and wearing a blissful, sleepy expression, half pressed to the pillow by his side.

You'll never be entirely privy to the ongoing thoughts of Felix Catton, no matter how well it may seem that you can read them. But you've always wondered. Sometimes you ask, and you know he wouldn't lie to you, but you always find yourself curious about the things he leaves unsaid. Not now, of course, now you're falling back asleep, but it's moments like this, moments you wonder about how he perceives the vague, offhand possessiveness - or overt possessiveness, if that afternoon you'd spent meticulously marking him said anything - you so frequently display. It's not always intentional. You wonder if he's ever found it off-putting.

It's never been a conversation the two of you have outright had; why not me? Why not only me? It's never had to be asked; beautiful, fanciful people should not be confined. What a shallow answer. Because you are the home I will always come back to, I promise, I promise, I promise. But there's no way to say that out loud. There never has been, even if you've both known it for years.

But none of that plagues you now; the bed and the early morning are both pleasantly warm. The heat from Felix sitting beside you is as comforting and familiar as is the smell of his cigarette amongst the fresh air from the open window. You're drifting back off for what little more sleep you could capture before the day begins, and you don't see the way Felix is watching you in this moment.

There are no eyes on Felix now, no-one to watch, no-one to judge. No-one else who knows how you smile when you sleep next to him.

Breakfast has everyone else in the house buzzing. Venetia's hungry-eyed across the table from Farleigh, her food practically untouched as she demanded as much information from him as possible after complaining about you and Felix being stubbornly tight-lipped. As you hear them gossip, you and Felix share an exasperated look at the edge of the room, you with two plates of food and him with two steaming mugs, before you both head back to the table.

"Y/N, dear," Elspeth cuts over Farleigh's sarcastic remarks about Oliver's fashion choices the minute you settle yourself down. Looking to her with a polite smile, as was custom, she smiles back, "Duncan has put together our Summer event schedule for you, would you still like it to be left in the lilac study?" You nod, quiet and grateful, trying to start on your breakfast before she adds, "as always we've made particular note of the events which your parents have been included as part of the guest list for, so please do just let us know ahead of time whether you plan to be in attendance also -"

"Mum," Felix hissed, to which Elspeth looked rather confused and startled, as if she couldn't understand what she'd done wrong. Pamela, as ginger as you'd ever seen her, and clearly having come back to the house despite not having been here over Christmas, looks to you with that doe-eyed softness that she always seem to have.

"Darling, I didn't know you had parents," she mused with her trademark far-away tone of voice. Her words, however, set off both Farleigh and Venetia, who couldn't help but laugh, and even Felix was grinning behind his mug.

"Of course they have parents, Pamela," Elspeth whispered loudly to her, clearly embarrassed on the woman's behalf, while you just tried to enjoy breakfast, and the absurdity of it all.

"No, I always thought-" Pamela frowned for a minute, looking between Elspeth and Sir James, "aren't they one of yours?" Her gaze turning back upon you, then to Felix next to you, "I recall something about you two being twins, isn't that right?"

"No, dear, that's not -" Elspeth is desperately trying to salvage the conversation despite Venetia all but crying with laughter. Both yourself and Felix, after sharing a vaguely horrified look about the whole situation, try to focus on your breakfasts, even as Elspeth continues, "Pamela please don't say something so crass at the table."

"What's crass about the idea of Y/N and Felix being twins, Auntie Elspeth?" Farleigh asks, wearing a smile that's all teeth as his Aunt freezes momentarily. Venetia's laughing has gone past the point of being audible.

Felix chokes on the coffee he's been trying to hide behind, right as your eggs go down your windpipe and send you into a coughing fit.

"When was Oliver set to arrive again?" Sir James asks like he's absolutely oblivious to the situation that has arisen at his breakfast table, instead lowering his paper to smile brightly at his son.

"Um," Felix takes half a moment to compose himself once more, before levelling a weak smile at his father, "I believe his train gets in at three."

"Wonderful," ever enthusiastic, James nods, "we'll have a car sent out and waiting for him." As if the Cattons have ever made anyone catch a taxi if they didn't have a town car of their own. Forever eager to be the perfect hosts.

"Do you think he even knows what a town car is?" Farleigh asks disdainfully, which sets Elspeth off and cooing about the sorry state of their upcoming guest, while you attempted to swat Farleigh's arm for his comment.

"Hey, no," he leans out of your reach, all but oozing contempt at the reminder of Oliver's impending arrival, "you're my ally in this today, you promised; no being bitchy about my opinions just because I don't want to save a horse, ride a pauper like you do -" even as you snap at him, the eyes of most of the table are on you in an instant.

"Farleigh," you snarled under your breath, feeling yourself growing flustered.

"You're a dreadful fucking pest," Felix frowns at his cousin around you, but Farleigh merely shrugged without even a shred of remorse. Several pairs of newly intrigued eyes are still fixed on you.

"Felix had mentioned that you were fond of Oliver, pet, isn't that right?" Elspeth began tentatively. You kind of wished your chair would spontaneously collapse beneath you, if only to give everyone something else to talk about. Alas, it remained sturdy, and you remained pinned like a butterfly beneath Elspeth and Venetia's gazes, "I never really thought to ask what you thought of the boy, which is foolish of me, he's your friend too, is he not?"

"Clearly," Venetia said, smile surprisingly wolfish.

Oliver's constantly searching eyes shine blue as the sky in your mind. Everything Oliver Quick says, does, and is, seems so deliberate; he's constantly a man with more thoughts than words, so you know that what he chooses to say always has meaning. You love that he's capable of directness that so many others will shy away from, but is able to chatter through small talk if it's to be had. He can read a room and let it affect his approach without feeling the need to change himself; that's why so many of your friends back at Oxford found him so off-putting. It's one of the things you loved about him.

Oliver is Oliver at the club, at the pub, walking to class, in the grocery store listening to you and Felix argue about pasta sauce, in your bed, smiling at you and kissing you and murmuring the kinds of things to you that none's ever taken the time to say, the kinds of things that makes your heart beat hard against your ribs and in your throat in a way that you don't get from people who aren't Felix anymore -

"Uh, yeah, he's a good friend," you shrug and try to seem as nonplussed about the discussion as you're able to, while your eyes are all but burning holes into your plate, "he's really quite lovely, and he's got such a beautiful, unique face; I think you'll be very charmed by him, Elspeth." Beside you, Felix coughs very deliberately to cover a laugh.

Chancing a glance at him, you're both pleased and vaguely mortified to see, not the jealousy you would have seen perhaps a week ago during a discussion like this where he is privy to far too much information about your feelings regarding Oliver. Instead, you see your best friend trying not to laugh at your casual act knowing your casual 'he's a good friend' and 'he's really quite lovely' actual means 'I've been absolutely railed by the young gentleman coming to stay at our house, so yes you could say I adore him'. This is much better than the jealousy. This is one of the many reasons you love having Felix as a best friend. You also desperately wished you weren't at the breakfast table with the entire rest of his family.

Elspeth, however, seems pleased enough by the answer to let you finish your breakfast in peace. Felix does too, but he's wearing this amused little knowing smile the entire time. Okay, if it means Felix isn't being weird and jealous about it, you'll take it.

After breakfast, you allow Farleigh to pull you outside to the picnic table you'd had installed in the middle of your favourite flower garden. He'd asked you to paint his nails, promising to return the favour, claiming to desperately want to spend his last hours of freedom surrounded by beauty while he could.

"You're mad at me," he says bluntly as you're concentrating on painting the nails on his left hand black. Like Freddy Mercury used to, he'd told you.

"No..." you murmured distractedly, trying to wipe carefully at where you'd gotten a bit on his skin.

"You don't have to be here," Farleigh could be heard rolling his eyes, and as you dipped the brush back into the bottle, you paused for a moment, looking up at him in genuine confusion.

"You asked me to spend time with you today," like it's the simplest thing in the world.

"You are aware that you're not actually a robot, right?" It surprises you how genuinely concerned he looks in this moment, leaning forwards, as if proximity would better impart the importance of his words, "you don't have to do just what everyone says; you have free will."

Looking down at the bottle, as if to continue your work and not to hide your expression, you once again tell him that you know. You move onto the next nail, and Farleigh falls silent.

It is beautiful out here. The garden itself that you found yourselves in was actually considered to be yours. It had been a birthday gift from James and Elspeth after hearing some of your idle musings as a late teen. It was an overwhelming offer, one you'd tried to turn down countless times; there were books about the Saltburn Estate as it was, they shouldn't allow you to alter it in any way! But they'd been terribly insistent. Our home is your home. You won't even lie; you started crying on the spot at that.

They'd asked you if you wanted to hire people to get it all taken care of, and while you'd accepted in part, the actual planting and initial maintaining of the garden itself was something you put an entire Summer into.

A circular design with a beautiful vine-covered arch as it's entrance, two thick rows of flowers in various shades of pinks, blues, purples, and whites bordering the outside, with a bubbling stream separating them. Smooth stones lead through the arch to a circular opening of lush, green grass, itself encircled by another small stream. The picnic bench sat at the back of the inner circle, while several small white chairs and benches with ornate tables between them sat either side, still leaving a generous patch of grass that you'd often had picnics on in the years since it's creation.

When you had come back over the following break after the garden had been completed, you see that a single statue had been placed flush against the back of the picnic table, between it and the edge of the stream, fitting perfectly. Far more understated than most of the other statues littering the Saltburn estate, it was of a young woman, her hair tied back and looking even to be quite short if you looked at it the right way, in a surprisingly shapeless toga, arm raised, hand poise to her mouth as if she's about to eat whatever's in her hand. Four large seeds. The figure looks gleeful at the prospect of eating them. The figure kind of almost looks like you. But you've always brushed it off; you're not that vain.

The Cattons have always had loved their mythology.

The family called it the Fairy Ring Garden, and Elspeth especially enjoyed hosting gatherings there.

Now, it was peaceful, just as Farleigh had hoped, smelling sweet even when the flowers weren't all in their full bloom. You cap the bottle, reaching for the top coat.

"They're not going to kick you out," Farleigh breaks the silence as you're shaking up the formula and waiting for his nails to dry. But his words have you stopping dead.

"I never said I thought they would..." you say slowly, while something uncomfortable begins to gnaw at your stomach. Farleigh's expression, while unimpressed at what he knows is a lie, is still full of that concern.

"But you do think it."

Logically, rationally, you know they won't. But you also know that you can't even bring yourself to say it in a way that was believable. Farleigh's looking at you like you're a puzzle he can't even being to solve, a friend with a problem he doesn't know how to talk through. So you ignore the comment altogether.

"I am mad at you," you say instead, looking up at him with a humourless smile.

"About... this?" He frowns.

"About implying that I have the hots for Oliver at the breakfast table, you dick," and you got back to shaking the nail polish as Farleigh laughs in that sharp and familiar way that breaks all the rest of the tension.

"I was not expecting breakfast to be such a shitshow," he wheezes with laughter, his free hand coming to rest on his chest as he kept his hand with it's black nails still on the table for you, "Pamela is a riot, God I love her."

"Where did she get the impression that Fi and I were twins?" You crows with amusement, which just set Farleigh off again, "and Elspeth's horror at the thought - did you see her face?!"

"I'm not even lying to you, I didn't realise she like, actually knew you and Felix were boning until she made that comment to Pamela -" Farleigh grinned with a scandalous little gasp.

"I hardly did either, except yesterday she got all weird about Fi and I officially sharing a room while Oliver was here, and it was clearly because she knew we sleep together; I have no idea how much she knows, or how long she's known, but she definitely knows," you offered with a smirk, while Farleigh ate up the gossip with glee.

As your focus returned to your work on the final layer of polish on his fingers, the conversation died down for several, serene minutes.

"Felix is going to show Oliver to his room when he arrives -" Farleigh's voice was unfortunately once more laced with disdain.

"Can I ask what your genuine problem is with him?"

It's quiet, but there's a distinct, irate hum from across the table after half a minute. Farleigh, when you glance up at him, is frowning down at his fingers, at you painting the final one, carefully cultivating his thoughts.

"There is an inherent unwillingness to engage in the stylistic aspects of, well, everything, despite how he is a constant, lurking watcher of the world, and must still see the value that is placed on it, that I find... off-putting," he says very carefully, and the minutes you've finished his nails, he picks up the base coat from the table and starts shaking it, waiting for you to present your hands for him to return the favour. "He acts like this weak, little mouse, but he's the cat, always watching every fucking thing, judging all of us but pretending like he's not and he's innocent. He's like you, but at least you're upfront about it," it's not a surprise when he finishes your first hand and looks up to gauge your reaction.

It's the second time someone's compared you to Oliver. Somehow you think you like this comparison better. Still, it feels strange to hear. Farleigh only waits for half a second, however, before he starts on the next hand.

"You..." you too carefully pick your next words, "have clearly put some thought into this."

"Adriana is going to hear a lot about Oliver tomorrow in our session; I'm trying to put some of the work in before I get there," he says flatly, though you can't help but genuinely smile.

"Adriana?"

"Therapist; phone session scheduled for tomorrow. Organised it before I knew about yours and Felix's little coup of my Summer, but I'm more than glad for it now."

"You're still going to those sessions? Good for you, man."

"Yeah, mom and Uncle James thought it might help me stick it out at Oxford," he sucks his teeth loudly for a second, "guess they were right." Then, without even looking up, "she still think you need therapy too," he practically sings, and you hum noncommittally. Farleigh's mentioned once or twice that the few times he'd brought you up in his own sessions, his therapist had seemed reasonably concerned about you. You had chosen to ignore it before, and you would continue ignoring it now.

"You brought weed, right?" That was the other thing about the Fairy Circle Garden, it was tradition to get high if it was any combination of the four of you children. Farleigh grins as he finishes off your left hand, both because your obvious attempt to dodge his statement, and because yeah, obviously.

"Let me finish your nails first; did you bring your iPod?"

"Of course."

You'd chosen a pale, gold polish, something almost close to a cream colour, that sparkled in the light, and spent the entire time Farleigh was furiously searching his pockets for his lighter admiring them.

In the afternoon sun, you and Farleigh lay in the grass of the Fairy Circle Garden, sharing a joint and listen to a shuffled mix of Queen songs. Elspeth had put one of their albums on after dinner, which the whole family let themselves enjoy, and it had been on all your minds ever since.

"Can I ask you something?" Farleigh mumbles, holding his hand up to the sky to admire the shiny, black polish adorning his nails.

"My dearest Fars," you grinned widely at him, "you can ask me anything ever in the world; it's me, you know this, but -" you turn faux serious, though only for a second, taking back the almost finished joint, "now you can ask me anything." And you breathe deeply, letting the smoke sit in your lungs, passing the last of it back to Farleigh. He takes his time, however, and your head swirls the longer you let the smoke settle in your lungs.

"I genuinely cannot picture Oliver being any fucking good in bed," he blurts out, and turns to you; unfortunately there's a look in his eyes that's genuine rather than disdainful, "granted," he amends, seemingly actually reasonable about this, "sometimes my mind does replace him with the puppet version of Pinocchio, from the cartoon - I'm actually not trying to be mean here, my brain just does that -" while you're actually rolling on the grass with laughter, both from his apparent situation, but also because the weed has definitely already hit you.

"Farleigh, oh my god -"

"Stop it," he's starting to sound genuinely distressed, "I've had sex with you, I know what you've got going on down there; I can't stop vividly imagining you getting puppet dick!" Your attempts to comfort him aren't particularly successful when you're still cackling even as you try and hug him. At least he accepts it, returns your hug despite sulking at your continued laughter. Then, and you can actually hear him getting over his distressed bit as he adds, "it's wooden, right? And it grows like his nose?"

It takes you a full five minutes to calm down from your laughter once more, but at least this time Farleigh's laughing too.

"Christ, Fars -" you're wiping tears of laughter from your eyes, sitting up, your legs crossed. Farleigh is still stretched out, lounging on his side and propped up on his elbow, "I'm never going to be able to watch Pinocchio again."

"Now you know how I feel," he shrugs, "and that was before I knew you'd -"

"Whatever weird, possible puppet-based euphemism -"

"Oh, you know me so well," he smirked, though the look in his eyes is warm.

"- I'll pass on," a lull comes in the conversation, and you lay yourself back once more. Checking your watch, you're surprised that there's still quite some time before lunch, "why would I lie?" You lower your arm, and prop your hands behind your head. Farleigh makes a confused noise, "about Oliver; do you think I'm lying?"

"My dearest Y/N," he echoes your tone and affection from minutes earlier, before sliding to his more familiar cadence, "you can, will, and have gotten in bed with every person who's caught your fancy. I have watched you transcend sexuality literally all over the globe, and I know from countless personal experiences - thank you by the way - that you rate sex by how good you can make your partner feel," he looks up at you for just a moment where he's laying on his back like he's remembering those countless personal experiences and you do not have the self restraint to not roll onto your side to face him, to watch him. Farleigh both knows what you're doing, while also finally making his point; "I don't think Oliver Quick is good in bed, I think you just made that man find God."

It's quite the compliment, and if it were anyone else, he'd probably be right.

"Fars-" your smile widens bashfully, and he has to close his eyes for a moment, shaking his head.

"Don't say my name like that, you're derailing the conversation," he mumbles, sounding rather bashful.

"Like what?"

"The way you do when you're high," he huffs an embarrassed breath, cracking an eye open to look at you. You hadn't realised that there was any special way that you would say it, but you apologise faintly, shifting yourself to lay at an angle, your head on his chest, facing him. Farleigh closes his eyes again, wearing a faint smile as he runs his fingertips up and down your arm in a soothing, repetitive gesture. Which does nothing but feel like teasing in your current state.

"Why do you care so much about Oliver's dick-game?" You try and focus. It catches Farleigh off guard, judging by his bark of laughter.

"As you have so thoroughly pointed out at least twice by now, the man has a limited number of features that would be arguably hot on someone with a better personality -"

"Oh, right," you nodded, "your repressed crush on my poor friend who you hate," tone flat, you brace for whatever response you know you will get, but still yelp when you receive a hard pinch on the arm. "Those are some big words, by the way; Adriana should give you a gold star - ow! Fine!" You pout, doing your best to cross your arms despite not actually moving yourself from Farleigh. It takes a few beats, but you hear the faintest laugh echo in Farleigh's chest, and moments later he returns to idly running his fingers up and down your arm.

The moment settles around you both, and you let your eyes fall closed. This moment of contentment almost mirrors the one from this morning, but your head swirls too much for it to be entirely perfect.

"I'm not lying," you finally say. Farleigh makes a noise of interest. Eyes still closed, you're kind of willing to bet his are too, "you said so yourself; Oliver's like me, he... watches," you wet your lips, hesitating for a moment, "he listens."

"But you listen," Farleigh says like the equation isn't adding up in his mind. God why did you have to talk about this in the first place, now all you can think about is Oliver, Oliver, Oliver -

Harder, he'd actually listened. Hold me here. Listened. This angle. You can bend me like this. Pull. Bite. Move. Fuck.

You had to open your eyes; Farleigh is watching you, half seemingly aroused by whatever picture he has in his head, half still relatively confused. Every sensation in your mind feels tenfold right now, you could have said any number of things to prove your point, but there's one that sticks. Slowly, you sit up, half bracing yourself over Farleigh, hands planted in the grass either side of him as your silhouette blocks the sun from his face.

"Fars," you've already forgotten that there's something about that nickname that always gets him, even soft and serious like this, "Ollie's the first person outside of Felix who's made me cum before they've gotten the chance to finish in my entire memory."

Farleigh, who'd been grinning up at you, gently running his fingertips across your cheek and down your jaw, actually looks a little stunned.

"That can't be right." He mutters faintly. Your answering expression is grim and telling, "oh my god," with the exact tone of someone discovering shocking, world altering news about situations far less trivial, but the apology in his eyes and faint horror in his voice is rather amusing.

"Doomed to the life of a - what did you call me that one time?" You grinned despite yourself, sitting back a little, "a service bottom?"

"Oh my god I definitely did!" Farleigh lights up at the memory, glad too for the breaking of tension once more, and you rather eagerly add.

"So it was nice to be, you know, be listened to, taken care of the way I kind of take care of people?" You try to put it to words, "but I still- uh, I think I was just a regular- um -"

"Oliver Quick; service top," Farleigh muses like it's of great importance, which is enough to make you laugh once more. But your arms are getting tired of holding you up, and your self restraint is worn past the point of no return, so finally you lean down to kiss him. Farleigh grins against your lips, "hey."

"Hi," you murmur, everything about you radiating a syrupy kind of fondness, "I'm not mad at you."

"Clearly," Farleigh chuckles faintly, pulling you back in. The second day of Summer and it feels like freedom already, and of Summers long passed. Getting high and making out in the Fairy Circle Garden is not an unfamiliar experience, and you'd always considered it a good way to pass the time. In your mind, it seems like a great idea at the time to share another joint together; you end up with Farleigh's knee between your thighs by the time you realise that you're almost late for lunch.

"Oh my god, Fars, they're going to kill us," you couldn't contain your laughter as you briskly made your way back to the house.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Farleigh called out from a few feet behind, and you stopped, looking at him with concern for his urgent tone. Instead, he swooped in with a grin to give you one more kiss before passing you, "they're not going to care," he adds.

"They're so going to care!" You hissed, voice a guilty mix of concerned and amused as you stepped into the house. Then, after a moment, "I care if they know!"

"That is not something I can help you with, pet," Farleigh shrugged, "but I think they might care about the grass stains on our clothes." And with that he swans away, radiating a bright confidence that you can't help but be endeared by in this moment, that distracts you, if only for a second, from your nerves.

Back in your room, the nerves set in tenfold when you find Felix to be there as well.

"How's Farleigh coping?" He asks with a pleasant smile.

Be totally cool and stealthy and not high right before Oliver's meant to arrive. You can do this.

"Surprisingly well," you responded cheerfully, raising your hands to show off your nails, "we listened to Queen," maybe a non sequitur, but not an incriminating one, you tell yourself, "and..." frowning for a moment, you pull at the shoulder of your shirt, trying to examine it for the grassy faux par Farleigh had been accusing you of. As you're trying to figure out if you really do need to change, it appears that your mouth takes on a mind of it's own, adding, distractedly, "... grass stains. Fi-" you look to him with sudden intensity, not having realised that in your attempt to see the back of your shirt, you'd tried to turn to get a better look, like a dog chasing it's own tail, "Fi, is there grass on me?"

Felix, taking you by the shoulders to steady you, is giving you a truly bemused look. It's enough for you to already be pulling away from him, stripping off your shirt to look in your drawers.

"I'm going to kill Farleigh," but you can hear his exasperation is highly coloured with amusement. He chuckles faintly, "and you, probably."

"Ooh~" you mused mostly to yourself, "see, I told Farleigh this would happen," you clicked your tongue as you squinted into the drawer for the perfect replacement. Then, very suddenly, you processed all of what Felix had said; "and boo, don't kill me," you pout, pulling out a button down and taking a few moments to check the size on the tag to see if it was yours or Felix's, "I'm capable of a great many things, Felix," you tell him matter-of-factly as you pull the shirt on. Satisfied with your change in wardrobe, you look to see him sitting on the end of the bed, looking thankfully endeared by your antics, "and we're late to lunch, almost," despite how you strode over to him with purpose, standing yourself between his legs, arms draped around his neck, "poor form showing up late, covered in blood, and with a dead friend in the other room;" he can't help himself, he laughs, wrapping his arms around your waist, looking up at you with the most loving exasperation in his eyes. However the sound of his laughter is absolutely what you would consider a victory, "see, don't kill me I'm occasionally funny."

"You're so fucking high." He laughed a little helplessly. Drat. At least he seemed to find it funny, leaning forward to press his face against your chest for a long moment as he let out a faint sigh. Felix is warm, his breath on your skin through the fibres of your shirt, his arms around you, knees pressed against your legs; Summer is sweltering, and if he were anyone else you'd be extracting yourself in an instant, but you want to melt into him in this moment.

"Shh," you stage whispered, petting his head, "don't tell Felix, we've got an important guest arriving today," and he looks up to see the apologetic smile you wear as you run your fingers through his hair. You drop the bit, "it seemed like a good idea at the time, then I..." you hummed for a moment, frowning, "lost track of... it. Time."

Felix's gaze softens as he looks at you, eyes shiny and pupils blown wide, holding him so tenderly. Does he even know that he looks at you like that? Does he know how much it means to you?

"You make it frustratingly difficult to - we have lunch-" he has to firmly remind you, even though he is grinning and endeared by your antics, as you bring one leg up over his, knee settling beside him on the bed. Your smile is only guilty because you know it should be, not because you feel any kind of actual guilt. You bring your knee off the bed, but are now straddling his thigh.

"We have lunch," you parrot back with a nod. But Felix's hands are still on you, still wrapped around you and holding you to him, watching you with this look like he's endeared, like he's almost mesmerised by you in this moment; you, who keeps echoing 'we have lunch' until it starts to lose all meaning, and you kind of forget that you're still just standing in your room with Felix, until you're chanting those three words under your breath like a little song that you're bopping along to. Any real thoughts had absolutely left your head about a minute ago.

Felix is watching you with that look in his eyes like he's never loved anyone more in his life.

"I am so hungry," you finally broke out of your little, strange trace, before lighting up, "oh my god we have lunch!" Suddenly enthused, as if you'd forgotten the entire few minutes that had just passed, you step back. Taking Felix's hands, you pull him to his feet as he laughs sweetly, "come on," tugging him through the halls, he lets you lead him by the hand, "once we finish lunch it means its almost time to see Ollie, and we love Ollie!"

Very suddenly three rooms away from the dining hall, you stop. The pace you'd set was eager, so Felix practically crashes into you without a warning, and has to catch you both on a doorframe. You've got your hands flat on his chest, the airy, pale linen shirt he'd chosen for the warm day, staring at them as he's braced over you. Then, very suddenly, your focused expression breaks into a smile like the sun from behind a cloud, looking up at him with absolute joy.

"We match."

He looks down; your nails, his shirt, almost identical shades, though your nails still sparkle faintly.

"I should have said I was stopping," you added, though neither of you had moved. You were still looking at your hands; "I should say more of the things that I think in my head out loud." Then, after a long few moments, and Felix continuing to indulge you, he hears you mutter, "I can feel your heartbeat in my hands."

You should definitely move and go to lunch and not stand here and be close to Felix for an infinite amount of time even if you know that Felix loves you and would definitely indulge you and would let you stay in this space and this moment and this close to him forever and ever if you asked. None of which you say out loud. Instead, what comes out is -

"I like that we match," and you drag your hands down his chest to take the hem of his shirt between your fingers, momentarily tugging on it as Felix finally stepped back.

"You're an absolute terror," he says fondly, taking your hand.

"Yes, but I'm your terror, fuck-o," you tell him with a childish kind of glee, and Felix was rather glad you couldn't see the way the silly little sentiment had made him melt.

As much as he adored the way you became overwhelmingly talkative, loving, and bold whilst high, he still had to stop you both outside of the dining hall to remind you to tone it down.

"Mum and dad can't know," Felix insisted, and you nodded very seriously.

"Mum and dad can't know," you agreed in a whisper, collecting your composure as best you could. For the record, you did pretty good; you didn't serve yourself an ungodly amount of food despite how hungry you were, you used the correct knives and forks even if it took you about twenty seconds of squinting to identify which would be best, and you made a point to be pretty much monosyllabic in conversation. It was working. For the most part.

"It's such a wonderful day, such a lovely omen," Sir James cheerfully gazed through the large windows in the dining hall, clearly glad for the sun.

"Yes, I forgot how beautiful it is to see you all taking advantage of the grounds on days like today," Elspeth added, "I think I saw you two heading out there," looking up, you see her gesturing to yourself and Farleigh with a polite smile, "how was it?"

"A beautiful place to cope with Oliver's impending arrival," Farleigh says through a humourless smile. Venetia leaned over her plate to leer at you both.

"Fucking in the Fairy Garden again?"

"No," you replied arguably too forcefully, mouth half full of food and gaze focused on your plate, terrified of giving away your state right now. Pamela, across the table, spluttered into her tea.

"Venetia," Elspeth admonished, scandalised. However, as much as you were trying to act normal, considering your relationship with three of the individuals at the table, it didn't register until it was too late that your normal may not be everyone's normal at the table -

"It's the middle of the day, Ven, I have a sense of propriety when the sun can see me," then, clearly losing your grip on self restraint while Venetia grins upon seeing her mother's exasperated face momentarily in her hands, you leaned a touch closer to Farleigh, "oh, and Felix is going to kill you."

"I'll add it to my calendar," Farleigh rolls his eyes with a smirk.

"I'm going to kill you both," Felix himself chimes in blithely.

"See, I told you so," you again leaned in to Farleigh, who just gave you a fond, amused smile in response.

"What?" Comes Elspeth in the lull, unsurprisingly befuddled, "Felix, darling, why are you killing your cousin and Y/N?"

"No reason!" You respond jauntily with a sincere, sweet smile. It seems like Elspeth's trying to decide if she should be concerned or not. After a long moment, she decides to accept that it's a joke.

"Well don't do it where I can see," she sits back primly, "or if you must, I request it not be bloody."

"I'll exsanguinate myself in preparation," Farleigh says flatly without missing a beat. No-one at the table had been expecting anything like that, and the mood breaks, turning as light as the sky outside, with the sound of everyone's laughter.

#felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton imagine #felix catton x y/n #felix catton x you #oliver quick x reader #farleigh start x reader #farleigh start imagine #oliver quick imagine #oliver quick x y/n #oliver quick x you #head heart hand fic #manic writer

[moth--blood]

Obey Me × MC with chronic migraines

[ ft. the 7 brothers (seperate), Diavolo, Barbatos ]

cws: fluff mostly, brief nsfw ref with Asmo

Lucifer

the most consistent of the brothers with getting your meds and not panicking, more importantly

he tends to get small headaches from overworking, so he offers his meatheads to make you feel better if you don't have any practical ones ("no, im not letting you chug a gallon of chocolate milk thats not going to help. ..what do you MEAN thats worked before???")

insists on you laying down and resting in his room until you feel better. doesn't matter how often it is, he always makes you stop whatever you're doing to go rest

will play his softer records while you sleep in hopes it'll help the migraine go away faster

Mammon

panics, first and foremost.

are you broken? dying? humans are fragile MC don't laugh at him he's WORRIED

especially worried if you describe the pain as stabbing. for a second he genuinely thinks you're being stabbed by some Witch's voodoo doll of you. that concern never fully leaves

his worry turns to pampering when he's realized you're not, in fact, being stabbed through a doll, and now he's full of questions

will suggest anything and everything he can think of to help you, from the lights to kisses. doesn't matter he WILL try it

Levi

in awe you came to him about being in pain before anything else

awkwardly offers to let you sleep in his tub, and to get you meds or something else you might ask for

if the lights in Henry's tank bother you he'll put blankets over the tub so you don't have to look at them so directly

if physical contact helps and you ask him to lay with you he will lose his fucking mind. he'll do it but he'll be stiff as shit for several minutes before finally relaxing

offers to read his/your favorite manga to you if the noise wont be a bother

surprisingly really fucking clingy when you're so reliant on him. it makes him feel special

will play the lofi or quiet anime music that helps him sleep if the noise won't bother you. he figures if it helps him sleep it might help you not be in pain :)

Satan

also in awe you chose to come to him with this, especially if it's NB!Satan. he takes less time to process than Levi though

makes a big show of tucking you into his bed to rest, offers to get you tea and to read to you if the noise isn't an issue

if lights are a trigger dont even worry about it his room is dark as fuck!

he pampers you a bit less than Mammon does, but he still insists on getting you things and doing stuff for you.

takes very quick notice of your triggers, and does his best to help you avoid them!

zero hesitation will yell at the others for possibly accidentally causing another attack he gets protective quick.

Asmo

immediate pampering he doesn't need to be told twice

"oh, you don't feel good? here let me take care of EVERYTHING today don't even worry about it"

if scents are a trigger and his soaps or perfumes/colognes get a migraine going he will not stop apologizing. he feels AWFUL

dims all his lights and does his best to neutralize all the smells in his room, insisting you stay and let him take care of you

will also try everything he can think of, or at least suggest it

he's not the biggest fan of the idea of doing stuff to you while you're in pain but if that helps you he'll try it. but you gotta tell him the second it starts getting worse because the pampering will continue exactly where it left off

Beel

he's so worried :(

also lowkey thinks you're dying so he's extra careful with you.

will do anything you ask bro is at your beck and call when you don't feel good

akin to everyone else he'll bring up anything he can think of that might help

more than willing to cuddle you into feeling better if you ask.

gets Lucifer to bring you meds because he doesn't wanna leave you alone, and if you're not the biggest fan of taking them he'll stare at you with the biggest puppy eyes until you do

Belphie

pulls you upstairs to the attic and insists on you sleeping it off, even if that doesn't always work

a big cuddler so he doesn't mind holding you if physical contact helps

goes and gets you medicine and a drink without even being asked, and if you question or tease him about it he'll just mutter something about wanting to sleep in peace without you complaining about your head

he's just worried don't let him fool you again

very observant with your triggers and when you're around bright lights or loud noises, for example, too long he'll pull you aside and quietly ask if you're still feeling okay. if it's a yes he'll pretend he never asked and if it's a no, he'll pull you back to the attic pft

Diavolo

also thinks you're dying at first. i mean, for all he knew you were! Solomon hardly counts as human so imagine his absolute panic when his first actual human starts complaining of excessive brain pain. several times.

after you've been around a while though, he's super calm about it

words cannot express how quickly he goes "oh okay! here, drugs"

does keep your medicine on him basically constantly, just in case!

takes you to his room or to an unused room in RAD so you can rest for a little bit, and if it's bad enough at RAD he'll just fucking leave to take you home lmao

doesn't fully understand still, but he's doing his best! it's the thought that counts even if he's unknowingly making it just a little worse </3

Barbatos

also keeps your medicine on his person after a while.

memorizes your list of triggers and things that help as soon as he realizes you get migraines at all. he uses his power to find when you mention said lists and if you ask, he'll just smile and tell you not to worry about it

also tends to pull you aside when you're around your triggers for a while to make sure you're alright. regardless of answer he reminds you he has your meds if you need them

if warm drinks or comfort foods help, he figures out how to make them and when pretty fast. he likes being efficient at getting your pain to go away as soon as possible

#obey me #obey me nightbringer #moth hcs #lucifer obey me #obey me mammon #levi obey me #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me headcanons #chronic migraine #obey me x reader #moth writes

[drdemonprince]

Any chance you'd expand on the hank hill trans guy post? (Sorry, best indicator I could come up with.) The concept interests me as I decidedly know my maleness, yet don't feel impeded by for the most part, any male gendered norms/boxes. I am fairly masculine, though I rarely use those kinds terms to describe myself. I have found I often do stray outside of what society pushed for me when I transitioned, yet I again do not feel it has taken from my right to maleness whatsoever. I am just me, who happens to be male. I have had friends try and suggest I am NB adjacent but I do not feel this way whatsoever. I feel more people are outliers to gender expectation than we care to admit and it's disappointing the way cis-people deny that. Hope this wasn't too long winded, I value your writing and perspective, and wanted to hear more of your thoughts on this.

Yeah, well so many things all get conflated by gender labels, and it's all so personal, you know? Masculinity does not have to mean maleness, and a person's gender identity might be a reflection of some innate quality they experience themselves as having, or a general summary of their tendencies, or their desired presentation, or their sense of affinity with other people, or an interpersonal tool, or something they just go along with because it was given to them by society, or any other number of things.

I think my recent substack piece on detransition goes into this pretty well, and I have an upcoming piece of what @pastimperfection calls "bilateral dysphoria" that comes out next week that delves into it too.

I think I mostly saw taking on a male identity as a means to an end more than any kind of innate reflection of who I was, though I did feel an affinity with effeminate men for a lot of reasons. I think I also discounted how much I have in common with my fellow nonbinary people of all stripes, because that identity became so strongly associated with being an annoying type of queer person that everybody else just wrote off as ultimately being their assigned gender at birth anyway no matter how much they protested. it doesn't help that 'nonbinary' is a catchall term for literally thousands if not millions of very distinct experiences and desires.

transitioning gave me control over how i was perceived, finally, but hormones are a throttle that only go in one very specific direction, and you don't really have all that much control over which changes kick in at which times and what people will make of you once you do start registering to them as some identity other than what you were first saddled with. it's an incredible gift to be able to toggle that throttle. but it's limited, not because medical transition isn't incredible and needed for so many, but because there is no escaping the goddamned binary cissexist logic that influences everything about how people treat you, how you navigate institutions, who finds you desirable and what they want out of you, and so much else.

if you're able to cast a lot of the external societal bullshit aside and feel strong in your maleness, maybe you're stronger than me or maybe our orientation to these things is just different, i don't know. i was never all that sensitive to feedback that i was doing the whole being-a-woman-thing all that wrong. i reveled in violating those rules to an extent. succeeding at being a woman despite my best attempts was what felt super dysphoric. and now i guess im succeeding at being a man, insofar as im always read as one, and it feels just as uncomfortable and objectifying and false. i thought that with manhood i could probably just grit my teeth and deal with it, but i'm finding that i can't.

ive always been very open that for me, gender is a thing I Do, and i guess to those who know me well it wouldnt be surprising to hear that i have gotten tired of Doing Being a Man and dont feel like playing that particular gendered game anymore. I tend to get bored of things! and find the flaws in things. and find my comfort in being fault-finding and contrarian and not being a joiner. and thats okay. i learned a lot along the way. not having to try any more is a huge relief. i can just do whatever. and know actively that people will more often than not be wrong in what they make of me.

maybe it was natural feeling for you to decidely 'know' your maleness without a care for masculine standards because that is the right identity for you! and maybe i only feel secure in the "not knowing" realm and in letting go of what people think of me or finding any kind of tidy categorization for it because that's the right spot for me. for now. until i find a new interesting way to be unhappy and striving for more and different again. :) that's just part of being alive, for me.