Tumgik
#acknowledgable is a word now im inventing it
py6oto · 8 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
some more doodles!! sorry for the doodle spam. i wanna animate but i cannot. i cope by doodling instead.
2023.08.29
67 notes · View notes
v2is-baby · 8 months
Note
So, you don't believe in races, as like, a social construct to separate people based on skin color and where you were born, because racism is the hate of all races that aren't your own, and "race" can be a blanket term for both skin color and ethnicity, but race can also be a quick way to say "I wasn't born here." So the term isn't inherently bad, i just want to specify, do you not believe in races due to the social construct aspect, or just refusing to acknowledge races as a general thing? And no I'm not trying to start anything, im just a little confused about this, the context is lacking...
I can try to summarize this with my poor English:
It's a fabricated thing to categorize people and empower groups! In the 16th century, when race was first conceptualized, the "white saint" (white European) was thought to be smarter, more civilized and therefore superior in comparison to other "types" of people by "default". At first Christianity justified this by saying the white European is closer to God:
It started as a tool to justify european superiority, the white skinned, civilized man of God. Pure and right. (Christianity began depicting angels, saints and Jesus as white, blonde, blue/green eyes europeans.)
Later on, people began assimilating that concept in a deeper way, thinking that the Ethiopian is enslaved and exploited because that's how things are naturally. Colonies were a thing also, cementing this idea further.
And Darwinism made all of this even worse. It's when very smart people would compare the skull of a chimpanzee with the one of a black person, thinking "damn... so the Caucasian is evolved! Now it all makes even more sense!"
Historically, previous to the 16th century people would not use the word race to classify people, but ethnicity, religion, beliefs. Race is a very recent thing and it all started with the necessity of allowing the European to do whatever they wanted with others. Race didn't only make them feel inherently superior, but also convinced the people, of different skin color or features, to believe that they are different.
And I'm very against this! not only races aren't real in a scientific point (genetically we are NOT that different to be classified in such way), them were invented to divide people, to oppress, and to make you believe that whatever good or bad thing happens to you is because of an inherited right or curse.
And this is something that I want to end, somehow, because I come from a man who was a Nazi.
23 notes · View notes
striving-artist · 5 months
Text
okay, its This Post if you want to go look, but I'm not going to reply on the thread cause I have writing to do tonight and, like I said, yelling at a brick wall does no good. But I WILL take the opportunity to point out a couple things that are common mistakes online during discourse and how you can manipulate a response.
Under a cut because most people don't find examining fallacy and post analysis interesting.
To start, here's all responses of the thread in a simplified form:
Post about voting against Trump
Post from Ohsalome supporting OP with a reference to a commonly heard complaint about Biden (that he is supporting Israel)
Post supporting OP, with a reference to a statement from Trump about creating a dictatorship.
Post supporting OP, talking about the dangers of Trump globally.
Post about the use of Russian misinfo in 2016, discouraging voting and dividing progressives from more moderate dems. Also that it is visible today about Gaza.
Me, supporting OP, and #5, acknowledging the existence of nuance, and adding reminders of Trump being awful.
Quote of someone's tags in support of people voting
Arabian Knight shifts tone and topic, sounding more like Trump, and throws out a lot of directionless insults at the rest of the thread.
Arabian Knight again, misquoting #2, turning a statement into a scare quote that they use to expand on their insults.
Anathema comes in, loudly outraged by the quote Arabian Knight presented in #9, claiming it came from Ohsalome in #2
Wet Paint arguing for people to vote in a primary against Biden (there is no primary btw, this is not an option) and then tagging me and my quote, to claim that I think American lives are worth more than Palestinian lives.
So. That's an excellent example of how fast online conversation can be derailed by one person, and how misquotes and misrepresentations can invent a new conversation and scandal.
Fast analysis version: Arabian Knights changed the quote - maliciously or not - Anathema only reacted to the last post, with the false quote. Now in an emotionally charged setting, Wet Paint responded emotionally, colored by the anger of Anathema and Arabian Knight's posts.
Slower version:
High in the thread is Ohsalome who (Im not tagging folks in, do not do so for me) references a hypothetical argument against Biden. They don't say a specific source, bc its a simplified version of the hyperbolic complaint that shows up on a lot of posts lately. "he is murdering palestinian babies" Many progressives are rightly horrified by Biden supporting Israel, and don't know how to square that with voting for him. To me, that's a fairly clear and obvious generalization by Ohsalome, ymmv. Highlighted below.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
In response to Ohsalome, Arabian Knight abbreviates the hypothetical quote, reducing it to just the phrase Palestinian Babies, and places quotes around only those two words. Yes, those are words that Ohsalome said, but you should basically never trust a tiny quote if someone is hinging an argument on it. That change turns it from a hypothetical quote from someone talking about why you wouldn't vote for Biden, and implies that Ohsalome themself was using scare quotes and doubting the existence of Palestinian Babies killed in the attacks on Gaza. That is not what it says or implies. It is a manipulation by Arabian Knight (statistically, this wasn't intentional manipulation, just tumblr's reading comprehension fails) But by putting that cherry picked phrase in quotes, it shifted the meaning and tone of the entire thread.
Then they bring in the accusations - and to be fair if Ohsalome DID claim that the dead in Palestine were fake, that would be super fucked up - and Anathema jumps in to back them up, responding exclusively to a misrepresented quote, not the original, and not the context of the original. They're specifically mad about quotation marks implying that there are no dead Palestinian babies, which - Again - were placed as scare quotes by Arabian Knight, not Ohsalome.
Anathema then takes another step to move the argument into emotions and morals by citing their own reaction to images they have seen.
See how fast it's turned into emotions? You already know that pivoting into emotions is a super effective way to manipulate someone. In this case, it took a post about hey, we really gotta prevent Trump winning, and made it into whether those people therefore, personally support murdering babies. You make that jump with emotion. Anything else, and people notice it.
Now.
I got tagged into this despite getting skipped by the misquote kefuffle. Here's what the new contender, Wet Paint, said, and the grab of what I'd said in my response.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
This time, its not a misquote or a modification of a quote. Props for that. Yeah, it skips the context of the rest of the comment, but that's the nature of pulling quotes. Which is why you have to get in the habit of going back to the source to check context. I know its obnoxious, especially in the age of paywalls, but. do it anyway.
What Wet Paint does instead is create a false dichotomy. If I thought it was done intentionally, I'd almost be proud, because my post IS talking about a dichotomy... but not the one they are. I was talking about how its going to be Trump or Biden. A dichotomy.
They remade it into a zero sum scenario where it is Biden or Palestine. They've added the assumption that by saving American lives, you are killing Palestinians. There are times when that situation exists, so, this can easily sound like something you should stop and consider. And honestly? Do that. Pause, consider, and when you do, go chase down the source and see if you're missing something.
If a situation is as clean cut as 1 for 1 exchange of life, holy fuck, grab a pitchfork and give me a call so I can grab mine.
I'm not repeating my statements from that post. That's not the point right now. I just wanted to talk about how arguments get shaped and twisted online.
If I was a russian actor, and I wanted to manipulate this conversation to divide voters and increase Trump's odds of winning, the above is a really good starting point for how to do it.
7 notes · View notes
larnax · 9 months
Text
ok im not strong enough. hater mode activate.
Tumblr media
im only so angry about this because its the first time ive ever seen bottom surgery even mentioned in a fandom context and its to shit on it. im gpnna turn into the joker
easy to DIY" this is dumb for the same reason "DIY wheelchair ramps" are dumb. gcs and making hrt both take skill and knowledge the average person does not have. DIY hrt saves lives and is many peoples' only option i am not disagreeing with that but its not your buddy brent making it in his bathtub its someone who has the medical knowledge who just isnt operating in an official capacity. you cannot do it Yourself unless you want to end up injecting olive oil. this is even more true for surgery. do you think you could perform a DIY vaginectomy????? have at least a baseline respect for the people who developed gcs procedures and the people who perform them
"leaves scars" every non op trans person owes me $500USD. i am so fucking tired of people who never bothered to address their internalized ableism/transphobia about ew yuck icky scars making that my problem by loudly announcing how disgusted they are by an extremely normal part of the human experience. there is nothing wrong with having visible scarring and there is nothing wrong with surgical scarring and acting like there is provably makes people avoid procedures that would unambiguously improve their lives
"certain procedures can be risky" aw cmon bud we all know which procedures you mean! pretty please keep fearmongering about how risky bottom surgery is otherwise someone might decide to actually get a surgery which has an extremely normal success rate for surgeries. yes they make you sign a bunch of forms acknowledging the risk thats called Informed Consent and 90% of the complications are true for literally any surgery or literally any surgery on the urethra/genitals. bottom surgery is not some uniquely dangerous procedure
"implants and bottom surgery highly imperfect" every non op trans person owes me $1000USD. would you say this about any other aspect of transition? is there any fucking room in your head for the fact that postop trans people actually exist in real life and could possibly see you talking about how disgusting you find them? because im 1) real and 2) fucking your mother with my Imperfect Dick right now
"doesnt leave scars/looks completely natural" every non op trans person owes me $1500USD. this stupid fucking idea people have that The Natural Body is 1) even a thing and 2) something we should aspire to or protect is so wildly transphobic and ableist that it, too, turns me into the joker. would you say this to an amputee? to someone who had an organ transplant? because people do and its the same bullshit. the right to bodily autonomy includes the right to alter your body! i dont fucking care if i Look Natural(although its worth noting that most people cant actually tell fully healed phallo dicks and natal dicks apart. i went to a urologist and he only realized i was postop when i told him) and it should not be treated as an unambiguously good thing.
Tumblr media
LIKE EVEN THE FUCKING DOCTOR IS NOT ALLOWED TO HAVE MEDICAL BOTTOM SURGERY. olberic had an "averse reaction to medicine" <- directly against canon where he can be healed fine WHOLESALE INVENTED just so that we minimize the amount of people who could theoretically have phalloplasty
also youre lying to yourself and more importantly me if you think ophilia has any medical knowledge whatsoever shes literally a faith healer who cant even deal with poison
Tumblr media
like ok "a wizard did it" is better than literally not even acknowledging some trans people want to "switch their junk" like most people do or arguing that its ahistorical to have any medical transition, However this is just having that so you can present it as the better alternative to the inferior gross medical transition which . go fuck yourself!!! go fuck yourself.
again im mostly so mad about this because when i saw the words "bottom surgery" in a fandom thing i was really really excited because i never get to see even other fans who acknowledge that their favorite characters could be like me! i had a solid 5 seconds of just being ecstatic to be represented and then i actually read the damn thing and it was just more of the fucking same.
3 notes · View notes
luffythinker · 3 months
Note
Senchrome fic i was talking about im sorry its nsfw :P i apologize for my awful writing ------------------------------------------------------------
There's a secretive unspoken relationship going on betwixt them for some time now. The quiet moments together never reaching anything pass a kiss or two still always filled with warmth and comfort. Yet neither of them ever acknowledged the few electrifying times where kissing wasn't enough. Unbeknown to Chrome Senku shared that longing feeling for more beneath his indifference exterior. 
Today, as they were fortunate enough to be left alone to work on their latest invention in placid. Most of the teams had been sent out with baskets to go collecting while the two scientists stayed behind to work on the latest do-hickey.
He couldn't not feel the least bit relieved that they had that privacy so easily.
Nobody's around to bother them if he tried something this is good, Chrome thought secretively.
The two of them worked side-by-side; Senku concentrated on the contraption before him, while Chrome semi-observed from his spot on the ground. He had his own work to attend to while Senku worked on one of their other latest gadgets that's going to help them beat the Tsukasa empire.
Chrome could feel the warmth radiating off Senku's side that touched his own as he sat nearby on a rock, his nimble fingers flying over their latest invention.
The silence between them was comforting, yes, but Chrome craved more. Taking a deep breath, he mustered the courage to suggest a break from their work. "I think we should take a break," he said, hoping to steal a moment alone with Senku.
"You can," Senku replied tersely, without so much as a glance, completely engrossed in his project.
Chrome makes a sound of annoyance at his mentor, lightly deflated but stubbornly persistent, he gingerly reaches for Senku's face feeling bold and slightly annoyed by the dismissal, Chrome reaches out and gently grasped his partner's chin, his single hand gently cupping it. He could feel the warmth of the scientist's skin beneath his fingertips admiring the intense focus etched on Senku's face.
He traced his thumb over the smooth skin, studying those features with unguarded affection in the open.
This was all of a sudden.
He finally gave him the time of day, not so curious of the 'why' but the motivation behind it.  "What are you doing?" he asked, his voice held concentration on his work but paying attention to him nonetheless.
"Admiring you," Chrome replied coyly. "Is that wrong?"
"I thought you said you were taking a break?"
"I'm using my break time to admire you. Problem?"
Senku's fights his flush at the unexpected compliment and gesture he's quickly able to compose himself and brush Chrome's hand away. "I don't have time for trivial matters such as intimacy," he muttered, turning back to his work. He says this but the corners of Senku's lips are twitched upward in amusement. "I'm working, Chrome. Maybe tonight if I'm not tired." His soft tone betrayed the teasing behind his words.
"Maybe i'll give you a morsel tonight if I'm not tired you, dog." he added flirtatiously.
This concession sent a thrill up Chrome's spine; he couldn't suppress the heat that rushed creeping across his cheeks at the thought of spending that kind of time with Senku again.
He didn't really know what was going to happen tonight, it might just be more kissing or something they've never tried before, he honestly wanted to find out sooner than later, so he left him alone. He gave his partner's knee a quick squeeze affectionately and nodded determinedly.
"I'll hold you to it." He made it a promise before returning to his own task with renewed determination and excitement for what the night might bring.
—-
As the sun began to set, Chrome's heart continued to quietly race in anticipation, he nearly forgot about the group sent to go get the olives. He was focused solely on their conversation and interaction.
Discussing matters of the heart was exciting, Senku told him nobody really understands it and he isn't someone who wants to explore knowing more about it.
Maybe Chrome could learn something about it that Senku didn’t even know. That thought made his stomach flutter a little. Warmth spread through his chest, love is a form of science he smiled eagerly. 
 He wanted Senku to share more of his thoughts and what he did know about it but that would have to wait. Why? Because the sound of footsteps coming near disrupted their pre-intimacy.
"We're back!" Kohaku announced as she reached them, holding a basket full of freshly-picked olives.
Gen smirked as he observed what were subtle looks on their faces. "You two look smitten, I have to say," he teased, slightly lifting the edges of his sleeves where they connected to each-other.
Chrome's face turned an even deeper shade of red at Gen's comment. In an attempt to create distance between him and Senku, Chrome scrambled away ever so subtly. He didn’t want to be suspicious though he came off that way only to Gen it appears.
He could feel Senku gaze at him, but neither of them dared to imply what they were discussing moments ago that was for them only.
Call it an unfinished piece from a puzzle begging to be completed later on. For now, their attention turned towards the task at hand: creating something Senku's calling "olive oil"
Chrome stared at the basketed olives brought nearby, more warmth enveloping him again– from being involved in a new scientific endeavor. He eagerly watched as Senku carefully sifted through the newly gathered basket of olives. He marveled at the transformation that was about to take place, as these small fruits would soon turn into apparently consumable versatile stuff called olive oil.
"Chrome," Senku called nonchalantly, scribbling some calculations in his crafty notebook with his charcoal pencil. "hand me a handful of those olives, will you?"
Chrome did so without hesitation, placing several of them into Senku's outstretched hand. Senku then poured the olives into a mortar and pestle he had crafted not so long ago. The grinding of olives released a slightly bitter aroma that filled the air, causing his curiosity to peak.
"How does this process work exactly, Senku?" Chrome asked with a furrowed brow over the others shoulder.
Senku smirked as he continued grinding the olives. "Well, we crush 'em like this first." He paused briefly to indicate his ongoing actions. "Then we'll need to press them to separate the oil from the solid mass."
While Senku had said all this so casually, Chrome's eyes widened in awe at how effortlessly he seemed to always craft something so practical from nature itself.
After several more minutes of grinding, Senku finally deemed the paste ready for pressing. They moved over to a simple wooden contraption built beside their workstation. It consisted of two flat pieces of wood on either side of a hollow metal cylinder filled with layers of olive paste separated by circular metal discs. A lever pressed tightly against these discs would extract the oil below.
“You had me build this weird thing and never told me what it was. So what is it?“ The oldest of them said carrying something over to elsewhere.
“It’s a simple wooden olive press so we can extract the oil from the olive paste.” Senku explains.
old man Kaseki and others watch an amazement at the device as usual.
"Alright, Chrome, now's your moment to shine. Press down hard on that lever," instructed Senku as he held the wooden contraption steady.
Flexing his muscles and grinning with determination, Chrome pushed down on the lever with all his might, every ounce of energy was focused on extracting the olive oil. The excitement of the unknown was beautiful to behold.
A stream of liquid gold flowed from the base of the contraption into a perfectly positioned glass jar. The shine of triumph in Chrome's eyes mirrored the golden glow of the olive oil he'd helped create.
He smiled, Chrome looked at Senku and gleefully said, "WHOA" BAD!” he called looking back at Senku, a grin plastered on his face at Chrome’s predictable reaction.
Senku took the jar of fresh olive oil and peered at it closely. "True," he responded with a nod, "but this is just one accomplishment among many more." He held up the jar, allowing sunlight to catch its lustrous surface. "It’s a step for a side project of mine. It isn’t really that important" he announced.
“Why have us go out of our way if it’s not important?” Kohaku questioned, her voice a bit turnt at doing unimportant labor.
Chrome still beamed at their accomplishment for Senku’s lack of.
“I have my reasons,” Senku replied with a casual shrug. “Don’t worry about it anyway it’s not just for my own reasons this stuff is good for a variety of things. Its anti-inflammatory and other beneficial effects are invaluable so it’s not all for nothing.” 
“Besides banishing acne, hydrating my hair and skin, while simultaneously unclogging my pores, what was the real reason you wanted this, I wonder?” Gen tossed a curious glance at Senku.
“That’s for my side project mentalist.” He smirked.
“I feel like you're gonna give me the same answer but I'm also curious about what you want this olive oil for?”
Senku only smiled at him with a look that said he didn't need to say anything else. “You’ll see Chrome you’ll see.”
-------------------------------------------------------
you know what the olive oil is for >;) i did research for this shit
---------------------------------------------------------
Chrome was on pins and needles, he couldn't wait for the blue sky to fade to orange taking it's nighttime form soon after. Once everyone was asleep their shadows merged under the glow of the moon in the science shed by themselves. He eagerly anticipated what they will share in more than each other's space tonight. 
Just two scientists making a new observation of each-other But like in a vulnerable way.
He watched Senku ascends the latter to their treehouse home to turn in for the day. He walks over to his crafted sleeping bed next to Chromes. His mind kept thinking about his previously prepared jar of olive oil and what that had to do with them.
Senku's hair was slightly damp, having just bathed in the river like a minute ago Chrome had finished bathing earlier Senku said they couldn't do this or rather he wouldn't do it if he hadn't.
He advance towards Chrome, he knew he sensed the mixture of uncertain and anticipation in his body language. 
"Are you ready?" Senku whispered, his voice barely audible for some reason. Why he was trying to keep quiet was a mystery to him but it made him feel good in a way he couldn't explain.
He gulped nervously, searching for the right words. "I'm ready... but what are we gonna be doing actually?"
Senku chuckled very close to him now. He sat in front of him finally getting his hands on Chrome like he promised. "We're gonna make love."
Make love?
"I thought love was a feeling? I didn't know you could make it?"
"Oh you can make it, I'm just not one of those people who ever wanted to. Making Love usually is only for those who you hold very close to you, i'm not for all that mushy stuff but i'm making an exception for you cause i like you Chrome."
This makes him happy to hear. He wraps his arms around Senku's middle holding him closer. "I like you too, Senku." He announces like it's the world and he didn't already know.
Senku nods. "I know, you wouldn't be here if you didn't ya bone head." He presses a kiss close to Chrome's mouth, he does it again nuzzling into him with his forehead. Chrome enjoys this having the boss literally kiss up to him.
Chrome meets him halfway eager to create love with him. He closes the distance between them connecting their mouths and letting their tongues mingle.
It felt like a volcano erupting inside him, a fiery sensation if you will, amplifying with every passing second they continued to exchange this deep, mouth touching. It became passionate soon, he was completely lost in his embrace drinking into Senku's kiss.
Senku broke away breathing heavily, he was eyeing Chrome's mouth and features himself. Diminished scars and scrapes from childhood of running in caves and collecting stuff made him look the way he does.
“Why’d you stop?” Chrome asks.
“Just wanted to look at you.” Senku answers, giving him a quick kiss on the lips again. “Lie down please.”
Senku’s telling him and lightly guiding him onto his back. He complied, of course watching Senku strip before him. He was a bit surprised at Senku’s lack of muscles, every man in the village was muscular and built in stature Chrome taking the blunt end of that and being the least so but still more muscular than Senku. His body was of a scrawny build, but handsome or beautiful or whatever he chose to allow himself to be called.
“I like your body.” Chrome tells him, a hand running over his chest, stomach and then thigh that straddled himself.
Senku nods, closing his eyes under his touch. “Chrome,” He says, moving his hand to his groin. “Touch here.”
Chrome blushes again doing as he’s told. “Grab it but not hard,” he tries to instruct him.
“You act like you think i’ve never pleasured myself before.” It’s almost laughable. He’s amused Senku doesn’t think he knows what it feels like to masterbate.
“It’s lonely out here, I've had my fair share of this.” Chrome revals moving his hand over Senku’s limpness. It slowly starts to stand up slowly it aches for attention he knows it does.
His attention.
“This is making love?” He asks, looking at the man having a hard time controlling his own body not to jerk or buck at Chrome’s simple light tugs and pull’s at his body’s most sensitive area.
“No not yet,” He grunts Chrome noting how this makes Senku uncontrollably hard and open. His mouth tries hard to stay shut, eyes too. He’s grunting, breathing hard and uneven all because he’s massaging his body.
“Hmmmnnn..Chrome..” Senku moves with him jerking himself off on Chrome's hand. Precum making it easy to slide his hand up and down on him. “Chrome, stop that’s enough.”
He takes his hand away. “But you're not done.”
“You’re gonna finish me.” Senku grabs the bottle of oil. “I’m gonna put this on you now.” He opens Chrome’s blue outfit, sliding it off his shoulders and undoing his many belts and straps that make an X across his chest. Chrome kicks his pants and underwear off and now they're both bare to each other. Chrome is bigger than Senku in manhood regards, it’s funny but he doesn’t laugh.
The oil feels weirder than he expected it to. It’s warm and oily? Like water but sticky like honey but not really? It’s weird.
Senku starts jerking him off, sliding his hands up and down like Chrome was. It’s better than when he used to do it himself, he has to say.
“Mmmm… it’s good.”
Senku leans in kissing him again his hand is that of magic he can’t comprehend the kiss it’s all too powerful for him. He pulls away to moan heat building in his stomach. “Senku!” It’s a mixture between several different things but it all turns into a yell for release. He’s chasing that wave but he doesn’t get it because Senku stops.
“Huh? Wha, why?”
“We’re about to make love Chrome.” he hushs him. Senku’s over Chrome he dips his fingers in the little oil bottle before sticking his hand behind himself for a moment. He knows where it’s going when Senku’s eyes shut and lips part. Chrome watches him squirm at his own hands going inside himself.
He doesn’t understand.
“Senku?”
“Just watch me.”
Chrome watches Senku’s little show, he’s so turned on by this. Senku’s practically shaking with excitement, desire to do something he’s sure.
“If you haven’t figured it out your dick’s going in me.” Chrome eyes widen, he knows what that means. “This was all preparation. I’ve.. ghh.. Never done this before. This is my first time.”
Senku closes his eyes pushing himself against Chrome, their bodies slide together causing Chrome to let out a little moan as well. “You're gonna be inside me soon.” Senku sighs knowing how to exploit Chrome’s now dirty mind.
Senku pulls his fingers from himself deeming it time to get started.
“Senku,” Chrome says. Senku lifts himself up on his knees straddling Chrome still, he uses one hand to guide Chrome to the right spot, lowering himself in front of Chromes eyes. He watches his dick disappear into Senku who’s taking it well. Both of them let out their own sounds after being connected at last.
It’s amazing, it’s warm, Senku did all that work and he’s still hugging him tightly inside him. He thinks that what he was doing, losing himself so he wouldn’t squeeze Chrome too much, was a good idea but doesn’t seem to be working? He’s not going to complain though.
Senku starts to move his hips, in a circular motion. Chrome moans loudly responding to Senku lifting himself enough so the tip almost comes out only to go back inside him. Senku continues spearing himself in and out of Chrome bouncing on top of him.
Senku squeezing him it’s so good he wants to scream. Chrome starts to move his hips too, he tries to do like Senku but it’s hard to do when he can’t control his own movements. Senku sinks down, he bucks his hips up, he pulls out almost too much and it makes a ‘pop’ sound. Chrome moans loudly trying to look only for Senku to go back in penetrating himself on Chrome again.
Senku actually laughs, continuing to make it enjoyable for Chrome. “We’re making love, Chrome” He announces, holding onto his hands. “It’s crazy right?”
Chrome nods, unable to find any words at the moment. “I feel like I'm gonna explode.”
“Do it”
Chrome stops holding that heat in his lower stomach, his face scrunches up and he spills himself into Senku’s body. Senku shudders as well as Chrome does riding this out until the very end. Senku already came moments ago so he’s collapsed onto Chrome now.
Heaving from the exertion Chrome smiles, Senku’s still moving his hips a little, that tells him alot about how he enjoyed himself.
Their first time.
It’s so crazy he never thought, never imagined this would happen to someone like him. he always thought sex was solely for creation but he never expected it to be more, be this crazy. It isn’t just about sex it’s love.
He loves Senku.
Senku loves him.
And they created that love tonight.
“Did you like this?” Senku remembers to ask, slowing things down and bringing his mind back from his thoughts.
Chrome blinks at him. Oh yeah, talking that’s a thing. “It felt weird at first but I like it. You're very good at this, I'll say.”
---------------------------------------
IM SORRY I DIDN’T FINISH IT literally all she wrote lol i'm a slut for them
We’re just gonna say petrification and the many years that pass make it impossible to transfer disease to another body when dudes have sex :V 
Senku: I’ve done some testing on myself and it appears going through petrification makes it impossible to transfer diseases which is awesome in this day and age for gay people.
Chrome: huh?
Senku: If i were to spit in your mouth it wouldn’t do anything except be gross.
Chrome simping: … (if the homie spit in my mouth i would eat that shit up)
THE OLIVE OIL BIT HAD ME DYINGKJFJDFLK FUCKDJFJDFDFOK GOD THIS IS TOO GOOD
WHEN CHROME SAID HE DIDN'T KNOW PPL COULD MAKE LOVEKJVKJFK OH MY POOR CHILD DID NOBODY TELL YOU
I have to be honest tho seeing senku being the one leading things is so interesting and different, bu tit makes sense he's a power bottom go off king
also the petrification making it impossible to spread std/sti is sokjdflkdflksd very useful i guess, gay evolution
okay this was really fun to read, thank you for the fic u made my day really, I'm always happy to read a new ship
0 notes
daeguzen · 2 years
Note
aww you like caffeine? just like jaemin haha 😆😆😆
im also surprised that so many nctzens ive interacted with are younger than me 🙈🙈 then i wonder if that was how my online friends felt like 10+ years ago when i was in another fandom 😆😆 i witnessed their graduation, marriage and all...😆 woww...ive been in this community for so long already,, i think im destined to be a fangirl haha
what you said about life and your respect for people from all walks of life was so beautiful T^TT it reminds me of xiaojun's words the other day T^T you're right, everyone who dedicates their life in making the society a better place should be acknowledged & praised T^TT that def includes you guys - online writers!!!! i emphasised online writers bc you guys r doing this for free for us T^TTT honestly fanfictions appeal more to me than most physical YA books ive bought at some random bookfairs (i think they were a waste of money & space 😭 their book covers & summaries lured me to buy them, but the plot were often not that great 😭😭 i think sometimes they just drag it unnecessarily long to satisfy the word count?) whereas fanfictions are more straightforward and exciting ~ and you have the opportunity to interact with the writer instantly! it really is a cool "invention"! 😆💛
Sdhsjdakx 😊 how are you it's been a bit. I needed my energy to fill up, 😔😴
Ooo yeah it's so weird to come to terms with the concept of getting older and seeing these kids. Especially when you feel like a kid too. And zayum even marriage? I'm not there yet, I'd be pretty excited and surprised when I see a friend get married. Mostly cuz I've never attended a marriage, except my parents but I was like 4 I don't remember it much. But still it's wild just seeing that cuz that is one thing that can define you being an adult if it's a close friend marrying.
Yess we love all people who work hard. Ahaha we are doing this for free. I would say I like to write because I enjoy feeling angst. I mean practically 99% of my stories have some form of angst. And I daydream because dating is hard. But patience is key. And so I shall stay with my writings. It's pretty fun seeing the final outcome and then reading and just feeling that angst and the fluff and all that. And having to write the characters how you like and making them say things. It's 💚💚 that is why I just watched scenes of the lara jean movies because I love the idea, the plot. But for my the new series I'll be writing, I'm def doing character changes. I like the original but you know, all writers are different and I'm taking the story in a different direction.
Ooo that's interesting. I'm heavy on reading books. I mean I used to read more before college, I try to read now but it's hard cuz I don't feel that energy to read. But I like fanfic for the quick story and flair of emotions. Whether angsty or really fluff. With novels it has to build up so I getchu. It's a challenge writing books. Because as a writer you don't want to make it unnecessarily long or dramatically short. And also some people have a hard time fleshing out their characters or the conflicts and stuff and it's like.... question mark? With fics you get away with anything you do. And there's a certain freedom in that. Which is where I find my place of enjoyment.
Oh yeah def the interactions are fun and quick. Never going to be noticed by your fave author isn't bad but It'd be cool to meet them and have a book signed. 🤣 but seriously how are you ik I haven't answered in a bit 💚🤔😄
0 notes
shurisneakers · 3 years
Text
harmless (viii)
Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)
Warnings: cursing, protesting, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, gamer (derogatory), smidge of angst
Word count: 3.5k
A/N: listen idk what goes on at construction site and im too sexy to research so we’re going with my version of the world. hello. how are we all doing?
here’s my ko-fi if you’d like to support my writing <333
Tumblr media
Previous Part || Series Masterlist
He doesn’t expect to see you on TV. 
In jail maybe, for something scandalous and completely unnecessary, but not TV.
But there you are, a sign board waving around furiously in your hand, voice in protest against the demolition of the community centre. You’re flipping the board back and forth to alternate between the messages you’ve scrawled on the cardboard.
You were among a few protesting, but clearly the loudest. 
He thinks that maybe he has the weekend off if you’re too busy fighting big corporations. He’d send his support even.
Until he zeroes in on the sign when it flips over, finally reading what it says.
You better get your ass here, sarge
And so he does.
Half the crowd had dipped by the time he arrived. You were there, still the loudest, but he couldn’t help but notice the lack of people as compared to an hour or two ago on TV. He supposed that justice could wait as long as it took to get lunch from the nearest café.
“I can’t stop you from protesting, y’know.” He’s a little wary of approaching your raging self. 
“Oh, hey Barnes. You got my message.” You break away for a second to scream a bunch of obscenities at the gigantic glass building before turning to him. “You wouldn’t be able to.”
“What’s your dumb plan then?” 
“First of all, it’s not dumb. It’s stupid. Put some respect on my technological genius.” You held up a finger. “Second of all, it’s not here.”
“Where is it?” 
“At the construction site.” You point down the road. “Come on.”
Right along the way you stop to chant another slogan. He waves his arm around meekly in support. He did, after all, have to stand up for what was right, but if his publicist saw him here she’d have an aneurysm. 
The construction site isn’t very far off. It’s adjacent to the community centre, which he assumes they’re going to tear down to make more space for whatever shitty commercial building was going to take its place.
There are already a few excavators and dozers there but no one to man them since it was lunch time. What garners his attention is the small silver plate that’s on the floor a few feet ahead in the direction you’re walking towards.
“Here.” You stop once it nears. “The plan.”
“Am I supposed to know what this is?” He lightly kicked at it, earning a smack on the arm from you.
“Stop that,” you scolded, “and look at it. It’s not hard to figure out.”
He narrows his eyes. There’s a small u-shaped piece of metal in the middle of the plate. “That’s a magnet.”
“Exactly.” You clapped your hands together in excitement. “The world’s strongest electromagnet.”
He looks around. The only possibly magnetic things are the cranes and excavators around him.
“You’re going to... stop the machines from moving ahead?” he hesitates in his deduction. 
“Yep. Can’t tear anything down if they can’t get to it first.” 
Bucky looks down.
“Does this thing even work?” He toes at it again. “It’s kinda small.”
“It works beautifully, stop kicking at it, you demon-”
“What happens if I step on it, huh?” He knows this would get on your nerves wonderfully. He raises his leg. “Do I get to go home for the day?”
“You’re such a little shit,” you whine, reaching for your back pocket. “Stop bullying my invention.”
“’m gonna squish it like a bug.” He’s only half kidding about that part. “I’m gonna-”
Before he can finish his sentence something yanks him down hard. His head nearly hits the ground before his right arm shoots out to break his fall.
"Woah there, don't go falling for me as yet.” 
“What the fu-” he begins, eyes locking on his metal arm that was pressed flat against the earth.
“I told you it works,” you say smugly. “Try crushing it now, Barnes. If you can even get off the floor.”
He tugs his hand but it’s firmly attached to the thing. No matter how or where he’s applying the effort, his limb refuses to move. He’s stuck.
“Turn it off,” he sighs. “You made your point.”
“No. Stay there.”
“Y/N, shut up and turn this off,” he groans, trying to find a better position rather than chin down on the ground.
“Lay there and rot. You deserve it for underestimating me.” You huff.
“I wasn’t underestimating you, Jesus Christ.” He really was planning to just step on it, but he had complete faith that it worked. 
When he doesn’t receive a reply, his gaze follows yours. Suddenly the crane looks a lot closer than it initially did. Awesome. 
“Those are moving towards me.” He picks up on the low groan and creak of metal.
“Yeah, they are.” You nod, one hand on your hip, watching them.
He didn’t think that getting crushed under construction equipment would be how his day went. 
“Not my problem,” you decide finally after a bout of silence. 
Now that simply wouldn’t do. 
Death was definitely a problem, but what was more important was that he was going to get a dust allergy from the mud. He could already feel the blocked nose and temperature incoming.
“Are you really going to waste this on me? Don’t you have a demolition to stop?” He manages to twist his body so that he’s lying on his back.
“Good point,” you squint into the distance at the whirring of the heavy machinery. Their owners wouldn’t be happy to find them missing from their original spot. “But I still can’t help you out.”
“You’re willing to sacrifice your-”
“I can’t help you out because I don’t have an off switch. Yet,” you add the last part in a hurry.
“Then when the fuck were you planning to build one?” He sits up, leaning on his elbow. The cranes weren’t a mini object on the horizon now; the closer they got, the faster they were starting to move towards him. 
“I don’t know, after they agreed not to take down the building?”
He could just detach his arm and come back for it later he but had no guarantee that you would stop here for the day or that the vibranium could withstand all that pressure. 
“You better make a switch right now and get me out of this, I don’t care how.”
“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, bending to assess how badly he was stuck. “You know, this thing runs really deep into the earth. It’d take forever to dig back up and then get you back to my lab and then build a switch.”
“How long?” He didn’t have a lot of time, clearly, but even generally he didn’t have the whole day to waste. He had a mission the next day. He had to put the fear of death into some Russians and bring some pirozhki back for Nat. 
“I don’t know,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “Too long for my schedule anyway, I have class prep to do.”
“Motherfucke- that thing’s like twenty feet away.” He’s worried about how you don’t look fazed at all when he points at the stupid machine.
He’s about to volunteer to detach his arm when he realises it’s definitely less than twenty feet now. He had a backup just in case. It didn’t move as smoothly, but who could tell the difference when a couple of tons of pressure was aiming for your face, and hell, if he explained his circumstances of the destruction of his arm to T’Challa-
“Okay, fine.” You reach into your backpack to grab something that looked like a wrist watch. It matched the one already around your hand. 
You reach over and clasp it around his hand before turning a dial on the side.
“You ready?” you ask, ignoring the large crane that was starting to charge towards you. 
“For what?” he replies, looking down at it. He can barely hear you over the sound of the whining of machinery.  
“Teleportation, baby.” You send him a big grin before slamming down on his watch.
“Huh-” His voice cuts off immediately. 
If there’s anything that can be said about teleportation, it’s that he feels like every atom in his entire body violently splits to float around briefly before suddenly rejoining again.  
The ground beneath him feels different, and it takes him a second to realise that he was on the floor of your lair. 
“What the fu-”
“Hello,” your voice comes from above him. 
“You can teleport.” It’s not difficult for him to look at you now without the sun in his face. His arm is still stuck to the magnet but since the giant rod it was attached to was no longer deep in the ground, he could lift the entire apparatus up relatively easily.
“What, like it’s hard?” You discarded your bag on the floor. “You good? Takes a while to get used to.”
He gives you a grunt in acknowledgement, shaking his arm to see if he had any luck. It didn’t budge.
“Come on, take a seat.” You gesture to a lab chair you’ve pulled up for him on the raised platform at the front of the room. He realises that this is the first time he’s properly seen what’s actually inside your lair.
There are various buttons that do God knows what, drawers and cabinets painted black, several computer screens and gigantic pillars of glass on either side of the set up that encapsulate some green bubbling liquid. There’s a giant television set up against the wall, divided into several screens.
“Whaddya think?” You do a small swoop of your arm to show off the place.
“Gamer,” he says simply, testing his luck.
“What did you just say to me?” you recoil instantly, disgust on your face.
“It’s a gamer set up.” He points a finger at the TV screen. He was told by Shuri to use it as an insult, but he wasn’t exactly sure why. It just felt appropriate. 
“Take that back right now.” You raise a finger accusatorially at him.
“No.” He was sticking with it even though he had no idea what exactly the context was.
“Fuck your arm,” you announce, throwing your hands up in surrender.
“Fuck your demolition then,” he replies simply, getting up from his place on the chair to leave with the thing still attached to him. 
He takes one step ahead before your voice rings out.
“Sit down, drama queen,” your voice calls from behind him. “God, you’re annoying.”
“You’re infuriating.”
“I’m the best part of your week,” you fire back, ”and also your only way out of this. Now sit down.”
He didn’t even need the second warning, he was already on the chair the first time around.
“I’m not going to build a switch to turn this off. It’d take too long,” you examine the piece of equipment with more gentleness than he was expecting, “I’m going to remove it instead. It’s gonna take a while, so you better get comfortable.”
“I’m not.”
“That’s so sad,” you say without any indication of wanting to help. 
He rolls his eyes.
You pull up next to him, welding glasses covering your face and the tool in your hand. 
He turns away when you start, making sure his face is not directly within its trajectory. 
He makes himself busy by looking around some more. There are details you’ve put into the place, materials that are non-flammable made up most of the architecture. It’s dramatic, sure, but somehow the designs and colours seemed to go together. It did look sinister, he’d give you props for that.
The space was quite big. It occurs to him only then that that’s how you manage to sneak up on him so often in the past. Everything clicked. Fucking teleportation.
“So,” your voice was raised to speak over the noise. “How’s it going?”
He decidedly doesn’t answer. His position is more than enough.
“Right.” You clear your throat. 
He takes to counting the tiles on the floor, figuring out how many were there from the raised platform to the wall of the entrance. 
“Not how you imagined your day to go, huh?” you continued despite his lack of response. “But some might say it’s a privilege to be spending the day with a cool, mad scie-”
“Are you going to keep talking?” he interrupts, losing his count on the floor.
“Yeah, duh,” you say like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “You got anything better to do?”
He didn’t. 
“What’s it like living with a bunch of superheroes?” You change course. He’s not sure if he’s really allowed to disclose top secret information. “I assume there’s a lot of protein shakes, talcum powder for the chafing-”
Then again, how much damage could you do by knowing that Steve preferred pancakes over waffles?
“It’s quiet,” he says. “Most of the time.”
“Save all your smart talking for the battlefield, huh?” 
He doesn’t reply. It’s quiet around the Tower. A lot of their energy goes towards missions and recuperating once they’re back. 
“You go on missions a lot?” 
“I can’t tell you that.”
“Boo, you whore,” you say with mock disappointment.
He got that reference.
“What’s your favourite food then?”
He scrunches his eyebrows.
“What?” The welding stops for a second while you look at him. “Don’t tell me that’s classified too.”
It’s not, he’s just never thought about it. 
“I don’t know,” he murmurs, “Pasta?”
“Vague, but I’ll take it.”
He used to boil a lot of pasta, from what he could remember of his days in hiding. Cheap and bought in bulk before he saved up enough to buy things like fruits. A lot of the times the amount of sauce he had access to was enough for maybe seasoning, not a whole component on its own. 
It’s one of the perks of being a free man in the 21st century he thinks, a steaming bowl of fettuccini drenched in sauce and garlic bread on the side. 
“What do you do in your downtime?”
“Nothing.” Well, he considers it to be a pass time and doing nothing is a full time gig. It takes effort to do nothing. He even has days dedicated to doing nothing, as suggested to him by his therapist.
“Really?” You sound a little surprised, although it’s hard to make out when you’re already speaking a lot louder than usual. “No shining your penny collection? No software update for this thing?” You tap at his arm. 
There really isn’t anything. Truth be told, he thinks he’s the most boring guy in the Tower. He sticks to himself, has a few succulents that he adores and occasionally watches trashy television. So then why are you so interested in him?
“You’re obsessed with me,” he says pointedly. “Why?”
You give a short laugh. “I think it’s the blue eyes, sarge, they’re really popping today. Gotta say, I’m loving this colour on you. Is it different from the black you wore last week? And from the one from the week before that?”
He looks down at his dark t-shirt and utility pants. He had other clothes but those were reserved for things that were not this.
“Or maybe it’s the grumpiness, I don’t know. I love it when someone shows absolutely no interest in me. Very sexy of you.” Oh jeez, you were going to continue. “Hell, maybe it’s the thighs-”
“Okay,” he interjects, feeling the need to count the tiles more than ever. He equates the heat in his neck from the welding going on beside him. 
The loudness of your laughter is clearer than the sound of metal on metal when you tug a large piece of the invention off. Things were moving fast. He could get back home to his Star Trek marathon and forget this day ever happened.
“You know, you’re more interesting than you think,” you pipe up casually. 
He doesn’t expect this and therefore he supposes he can’t stop the curiosity from enveloping his face. He hasn’t told you anything about himself, so then the inference you reached came out of nowhere.
Apparently, you take notice of the confusion on his face, even though he can’t see through the giant welding mask, because you let out a chuckle. 
“Oh, come on, really? You have no idea?” you ask lightly, pausing to see if he offers anything other than silence. “You’ve come back almost every week even though you know it’s a waste of your time, you always keep your promises and I know for a fact that if you wanted to stop me once and for all, you could have. But you’re not.”
He doesn’t realise you’ve stopped welding until you start again. Good, it gives him an excuse not to have to look at you after that. 
Frankly, he’s a little stunned.
You’re not looking at him, he can tell from his peripheral vision. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you have a small crush on me.”
At that, he’s forced to roll his eyes out of instinct. Thankfully you do know better.
A few screws out later, another piece comes out. You inform him that’s it’s going to get trickier from there since the circuit was a little more intricate, a lot more time than the original few pieces. He can see his Star Trek marathon fade away in the distance.
You ask him a few more questions. Some he answers with silence, others maybe a tidbit here and there. 
“How’s dating now compared to the forties?”
“Strange.” He purses his lips in thought. “One guy asked for a gym date. Didn’t know that was a thing.”
“How’d that turn out?” you laugh.
“He didn’t ask for a second one.” His Bumble matches with girls somehow had gone down since he cut his hair, but he’s not too bothered. Not like there was a huge shortage. 
He likes cats, thinks the worst merchandise that they make is the stupid baseball card with his face on it, and doesn’t have social media for the sake of his sanity. He’s seen the thirst tweets. 
Clearly, he’s revealed his deepest, darkest secrets. Utterly classified material. But he doesn’t know anything about you other than your name, number, address, where you teach, what your hobby is-
“You, uh-” he hesitates, “You got a favourite food?”
Your hands hold still to hover above what they’re working on. You fight back a smile. “Sure do.”
He asks a few more questions. Shuts up when he feels his social battery drain. That’s enough for the next month, he thinks.
The sun’s dipped down beyond the horizon by the time majority of the work is completed. Both of you have taken a few breaks to fight the feeling of stiffness that was creeping into your joints. 
You scoff and tell him you’re not planning to poison him when he denies the offer of a soda. He doesn’t deter in his decision.
“How much to go?” He has a mission tomorrow that he’d really like to get some sleep in before. Waking up at 3am to get ready was the worst part of the job. 
“Basically done.” You roll your chair back, rotating your shoulder and stretching your fingers. “There’s just this little part that I can’t access from this angle. How good are you at hanging upside down like a bat?”
Fuck it, he sighs to himself, it was almost finished anyway.
Bucky stands up, tilting his neck to the side slightly before pulling at a small latch under his arm, one so tiny that you’d never make out was even there unless you knew it existed. The arm releases from his shoulder with a small click.
He offers it to you, a piece of your magnet still attached to it.
Your eyes are slightly wide. He raises his eyebrows.
You don’t say anything, just accept it and flip it to a position you were comfortable with. It takes only a minute or two for the sound of the last piece hitting the floor to reverberate through the hall.
You give a small cheer. He lets out a tiny exhale in equal parts fatigue and relief.
“So,” you drawl, handing his arm back to him, “you could have just done that the whole time.”
He doesn’t reply, just slides it back onto his shoulder. 
“You had the option of leaving your arm here and coming back later to get it.” 
He gives it a few shakes, opens and clenches his fist shut a few times to make sure everything is working.
“You wanted to talk to me.”
He gives you a deadpan look. “I was distracting you.”
“Bullshit,” you laugh.
“Believe what you must.” He shrugs, turning around. “My job here is done regardless.”
“Oh, I believe alright,” you call out from behind him as he walks towards the entrance of your lair. “I believe you’re a sneaky bastard, Bucky Barnes.”
He doesn’t stop himself from smiling at the overdramatic gasp you give when he flips you a middle finger. From the metal arm, too. 
Next part
978 notes · View notes
clairecrive · 3 years
Note
hi i know your requests are closed but could you do headcanons about how it would be to work through almost getting a divorce with nikolai lantsov after kind of falling out of love then deciding not to and working on getting their relationship back to how it was before because that unbreakable love for each other is still there and its noticeable. ive always wanted to read abt this and im asking this request from a number of writers cos i find it so cool to read everyone write their take on it.
cant wait to see what you come up with! thank you<3
A/n: taking a lil break from studying to write this. btw, hc take me less time to write so if you have more you can always send them in and I'll do my best to answer.
(tags are at the end)
SHADOW AND BONE MASTERLIST
okay so, the idea of letting Nikolai go is absurd to me. However, I can see how there could be some strains in a relationship with him.
if we remain in a canon situation, I'd say that the biggest thing that could come between you two up to the point of almost divorce is his ambition and dedication to Ravka
Nikolai is a strategist and the thing he wants more is seeing Ravka free and thriving and he'd do anything to make that a reality
so, he'd be plenty busy
busy to the point that you'd go months without seeing him
whether he's in Ravka working on his projects with David and Nadia or he's in another country on a diplomatic visit
of course, he has invented flying ships and all but those kinds of journeys still are long and tiring
however, since you are in the picture, I'd like to believe that Nikolai would try to find a balance between his country and his love
if not simply for the fact that he loves you and he loves being with you
if he's married you, there's a reason. right?
so, I feel like whenever he's back from a long trip away he'd take some time to spend it with you. First days in between the sheets and then doing some of your favourite things together.
just to spend some quality time with you
that's until he slips away more and more to take care of something
at first, it's a couple of hours before dinner
then he misses dinner entirely but spends the afternoon together
then only mornings together
until it comes the time you wake up and his side of the bed is cold
of course, you were aware of the life he led
his ambition and dedication were two of the things you loved most about him
but you missed him
he was gone so much that it didn't feel like a relationship anymore
it seemed like a free trial for widowhood
you had confronted him about this
many times
but he was still the King of Ravka and he had responsibilities he couldn't forfeit
and despite his best intentions, it seemed that they didn't match with his marriage
and you understood that. his role and the many things he had to take care of. really.
but you were tired of being alone a feeling unimportant
so, one day you decided to wait for him. Nikolai was the first to wake up and the last to fall asleep.
but that night, you waited for him. sat in your bed, hoping he'd come too late
when he did step into your room, he was surprised to see you awake. at first, he was delighted. he missed you too and the idea of being able to spend some time with you brought him endless joy
however, he soon noticed the expression on your face, your arms crossed on your chest and he understood that whatever reason had made you wait for him, wasn't anything good.
as much as it broke your heart to say the words, you told him what you had been thinking about for months now.
"this marriage is not working out for me anymore."
Nikolai's heart broke. truly shattered at your words.
he knew he'd be walking on a fine line and it was only a matter of time before you'd snapped again
but he never thought it'd come to this
divorce
what a wretched word
Nikolai hated it. he hated the fact that he had been such a shitty husband that you now wanted to have nothing to do with him
he tried to change your mind, promised that he'd do better, that he loved you and you were his whole heart even though he'd done a shitty job to show you.
but you knew that despite his words were genuine, his promises were empty.
and you were simply done. you couldn't take any more of this.
when he understood that he had pushed you too far, Nikolai relented. He accepted your decision and told you that he'd take care of it.
in the meantime, you went away.
there was no reason for you to stay. you were alone anyway so staying just to sleep in the same bed as he felt ridiculous
the time apart was agonizing for both of you. unironically, knowing that he was just a few feet away made it easier for you to bear the loneliness. And Nikolai?
Well, he had forgotten how to function. The absence of your presence affected him more than he would have thought. To the point where he could only think of you and how he couldn't lose you. The divorce wasn't official yet and he was already miserable.
So he took some time off and he joined you.
Again, he asked for forgiveness. pleaded for you to give him a second chance and if not, to at least allowed him to spend the days before signing the papers together.
and you agreed. you agreed because you had missed him so much. because you still loved him.
those remaining days were spent in utter denial. neither of you acknowledged the truth of your situation but unspokenly decided to make the most of it.
and saints, it did nothing but remember why you had fallen in love with each other and decided to spend the rest of your lives together in the first place.
when the time was almost up, neither of you wanted for it to end.
but the problem remained: you couldn't go back to the same routine
but letting Nikolai go wasn't possible neither
so you talked to him. explained your reasons and your motives and that above all you loved him
he felt so much relief in knowing that there was still a tiny chance of making this right
he renewed his promises of being a better husband, of changing his work schedule so that he could be more present.
he had even handed you a sheet where he had drafted his new schedule and well, it was completely different
of course, you knew that there would be times where he'd be inevitably busier but as long as he made an effort, you'd be fine with it
and so you agreed, you gave him a second chance and you were proud to say that Nikolai was living up to his words
and you were happier than ever
tags:
@jupiterandbutterflies, @agentsofshield, @for-bebbanburg, @randomoutsiders, @pansysgirlfriend, @hannaxmaria, @vintagebitc, @story-scribbler, @hazelrose14, @crowssixof, @odetostep, @lizzie-he4rts (taglist form)
255 notes · View notes
moash · 3 years
Note
Do you have Kalmoash headcanons?
oh you know it. hard to like make a solid list though bc it's mostly all just nebulous emotions in my head. i might have more clear and articulate answers to more specific questions about them, but. one little one is that moash whittles from his days on caravans and he made kaladin a little chull, and it sits next to tien's horse. tien making a horse is like fanciful creative imaginative, whereas moash making a chull is like these are the beasts of burden right, like this is the working animal that pulls caravans. symbolism.
canonically i think moash and kaladin did not actually get together in wor (unlike in my fic, please read, where they kiss, that was like an au where kaladin is 10% less repressed) i feel like their relationship is more like repressed gay homoerotic friendship where you both know whats up but nobody says it and you're just obsessed with each other (flora, if you're reading this, call me, i forgive you). i mean like they may have done things, but if they did, they wouldn't have talked about or acknowledged it imo. them not really having gotten together or defined what their relationship/feelings were makes it all the harder to talk about it now right? like how do you tell someone else what this specific friend meant to you, how do you even really define it to yourself, when the only word you can rightly use is friend?
my brain also tends to focus on like character specific headcanons that may relate to each other, rather than relationship specific headcanons. like moash strikes me as the kind of person who's had a lot of failed relationships where he's like "this is the one!!!" and it's like NEVER the one and always a bad pick, like the kind of guy who will steal all your money and frame you for arson. so with kaladin he was like "this is the one" but it was like, this time it was not a bad pick, kaladin is the one, and it still gets fucked up. i love tragedy <3 kaladin on the other hand has failed relationships w women bc he's gay and unable to admit he's gay so he just keeps having failed relationships with women. idk if you've ever watched please like me, i watched some in college, but the opening scene (first two minutes of this) is the main character's gf dumping him and telling him he's probably gay. that was just word for word kaladin and lyn's breakup pre-row in my mind.
ultimately im a canon compliant bitch at heart, so i get more enjoyment out of like extrapolating lines from canon into bigger things than inventing new things of my own, if that makes sense? feel like i've rambled nonsensically for like a good while so i'm gonna stop now lol, but those are i guess some general concepts(TM), feel free to ask me specific things that might like jog a specific line of thought, ya know? <3 <3 <3
22 notes · View notes
Text
Head-Cannons for Jealous Kageyama, Suga, Iwaizumi, & Bokuto
request: hi! May I request hc's of iwazumi, bokuto, mattsun, suga, and kageyama on how they act when they're jealous? I couldn't find a character limit in your rules so feel free to do however many you like :) Have a good one lovely human <3
✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰
Hi honey! So I didn’t write it but I'm going to be doing four per head-cannon! thank you for requesting! <3 These are gender neutral/no pronouns so I hope that’s ok, hope you enjoy! Also to everyone, requests are open!
✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰✰
~Kageyama~
✰ you’ve been in class all day and finally the bell rings and its lunch
✰ you and a friend are sitting, talking about homework, eating, as one does during lunch. You normally sit with him because kags always plays volleyball during break, surprised? no.
✰ all sweet Kags wanted to do this lunch was to sit with his baby!!!
✰ he sees you sitting real close to this other guy, and what does his awkward ass do? FUCKING STARES AT YOU, clown to clown communication going on right here
✰ anyone coming into the cafeteria just sees him blocking the path with the smoke whirling around his head
✰ you finally turn around after feeling two burning holes in the back of your head and see him glancing between you and your friend
✰ dummy realizes you noticed him and turns bright red in embarrassment after noticing he has been staring at you for at least half the lunch period and he sprints
✰ this man ZOOOOOMS out of that room
✰ you, being the caring s/o you are, run after him to the best of your abilities, all the way to the vending machine
✰ by the time you get there, he’s already sipping on two milks, pouting, and bright red, poor thing
✰ you make eye contact with him as you sit down, him turning away to face a wall instead
✰ you poke his stomach and sides to get his attention, fully aware of how ticklish he is there
✰ “Y/N PLEASE!” he grits out in between fits of laughter
✰  “Why did you run out then?” you say as you cease your attack, snaking your arms around his waist
✰ his body relaxes into yours and returns the hug, he buries his face into the top of your head as he mumbles
✰ “I know you know I can't hear you,” 
✰ he grunts back in response and mumbles again, just loud enough that you can hear that one, specific, word
✰ “YOU WERE JEALOUS!!!!!!” you scream so loud he jumps back a little
✰ he burrows his head into your neck in an attempt to hide from you, not the best play he could have made, but there was an attempt, he tried
✰ you move one hand to pat his head and the other stays on his back, “Kags, I don’t know why you would be jealous, I’m just friends with (Friends/N), I don’t like him like that, ok?”
✰ he straightens up and looks at you dead in the eyes, to anyone else he looks normal, but there's a little smile on his face that looks a little less creepier than usual
✰ he grabs you tight and you can hear the bell in the background, but you both ignore it and stay like that for a little longer
~Suga~
✰ everyone pretends that this man is the chillest, sweetest, calmest character in this show
✰ hell no
✰ he has as much crackhead energy radiating through his body as is possible without being a crackhead
✰ the two of you are at one of karasuno's practice matches against nekoma, and they have been trying that play with nishinoya as setter, and a few other ideas the coach came up with
✰ during a break between on of the games (which to your displeasure, have gone on forever, but you love seeing Suga play so you don't really mind) you decide to pull out your chemistry homework
✰ “why, and who made chemistry,” you say to yourself “I just want to have a little talk.”
✰ “Well I wouldn’t say a specific person invented it, but Robert Boyle is considered the first modern chemist,” you look to your left and see a tall nekoma player with bed hair
✰ you arch a brow, and get back to ‘working’, if you could call it that
✰ he sits next to you and offers a smirk and says, “Im Kuroo Tetsuro, if you want I can help with your homework if you want,”
✰ your nose scrunches up and you turn away from him
✰ “Don’t be sodium chloride,” he says as he scoots a little closer, but as he does that, you can feel the other side of you warm a little
✰ in the corner of your eye before you look to see what sat next to you, you see Suga, his eyes glaring straight at the rooster boy
✰ he drapes his arms on your shoulders and sets his head on yours and looks directly as kuroo, cold as ice, he tells him “She is fine, I can help her,” 
✰ the smile on his face does nothing to hide the fact that he’s not messing around 
✰ you pull him off of you to face him, giving him a little shove before telling him off,
✰ “I had it covered, it’s not like I was going to say yes, even though I probably need the help…”
✰ he raises his eyebrows at you, “I can help you, no problem!” he says sweetly, as if you both aren’t getting the same grades
✰ the next game is starting, signaled by the freak already on the court in their positions and the whistle blowing you give Suga a kiss on the cheek and tell him to go
✰ he smirks at you, and from then on in the match, whenever he spiked a ball, set a good toss, or dug anything, he looked to kuroo and directly pointed to where you sat
~Hajime Iwaizumi, (27), Athletic trainer~
✰ I don't even know what to do for this dude, no wait haha jk
✰ Iwaizumi, Oikawa, and you have been best friends for forever
✰ you guys are so close, sleepovers since you were little, you even made them an entire meal and movie night on the day they lost, lots of wet tissues and tear soaked blankets
✰ when you and Iwaizumi finally got together after year of pining after each other, nobody was more excited than Oikawa, nobody 
✰ now, you three are having a sleepover to celebrate being done with midterms and you made a big pillow fort to watch your favorite movie in, with popcorn and chocolate and all of that
 ✰ it's dark except for the light from computer screen, you can barely make out the faces to your right and left, and it's so late, you forgot who was on which side
✰ it's hard for you to fall asleep without Iwa anymore, so you grab the arm to your left and lift it up and snuggle into the warmth of who you thought was your boyfriend
✰ because you all are so close, Oikawa didn’t think twice about wrapping his arms around you, forgetting that Iwa was even there
✰ your boyfriend started to get red in the face, “Oikawa,” he warned, trying to make his best friend back off without making a scene
✰ Oikawa looks to him confused, “Chill out Iwa-chan! I know it's not godzilla but it's not that bad”
✰ Iwaizumi would have left it at that, but when you turned around and hooked your leg onto your current human pillow? Ohohoho, its over
✰ he grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder, wrecking the little tent you made and leaving the third wheel of the trio in the rubble
✰ you cry out in protest, upset that your hours of work are now suffocating your other best friend
✰ you feel every step and he takes as he walks you both towards your room the air is tense, and you don’t know what to do
✰ you enter your bedroom, still being carried by him, and he drops you on the bed, and falls on top of you, letting out a noise of comfort as you squirm
✰ “Hajime please get of you’re squishing meee!” you wheeze out the last part
✰ he doesn’t verbally acknowledge you but he adjusts himself so you both are comfortable
✰ “Is this ok?” he asks quietly
✰ “yeah,” you reply, “It is.” 
✰ Neither of you seem to notice oikawa taking photos, and the next day, oikawa shows iwa, but not without a volleyball to the head 
✰ neither you nor oikawa know that's his screen on his phone
~Bokuto~
✰ When does this boy not get jealous, not because of you no! He trusts you with anything and everything, and he loves showing you off
✰ that is until all the attention goes to you and he thinks everyone is going to take you away, especially when he goes emo mode, he’s about ready to give you up to anyone :( but you never go obviously
✰ akaashi managed to convince you to become manager, he said that it would come in handy when he started to become self destructive
✰ and it worked! You were able to save a lot of games and akaashi’s mental health, for a while that is
✰ today was the first day of spring high finals, teams everywhere, balls flying, and Bokuto was anxious, and it was showing
✰ as the team walks to the court, you grab Bokuto's hand and you grab it tight letting him know you are there for him
✰ he began to feel less tense and calmed down once again 
✰ the game started and it was going smoothly, the other team wasn't able to shut down any Fukurōdani’s attacks
✰ that is until, the other team's captain started flirting with you
✰ whenever he makes a point, he would say some gross ass pick up line, or wink at you, and even worse, he would make sure to meet eyes with Bokuto, every, single, time
✰ Bokuto’s shots have gotten worse, he's hitting into the blockers, the net, and even missing the ball completely
✰ it physically hurts you when this happens to your boyfriend, and at this point you are sick of it, and have started to grow annoyed at the creepily corny capitan 
✰ you whisper to the coach to call Bokuto in who is currently hanging onto akaashi, asking him not to set to him anymore
✰ the coach calls a time out, and signals the rest of the team to stay on the court, Bokuto doesn’t even notice the rest of his teammates standing still around him
✰ when he reaches the bench you grab him by the shoulders and look him in the eyes and say “Baby, kick his ass.”
✰ you move your head to face the other captain and smile, then you grab Bokuto's face and kiss him, hard
✰ the time out ends and your team is flushed with embarrassment, but Bokuto was hyped up jumping all over the court, and ready to destroy the other team
✰ (they won the rest of the set no points lost)
152 notes · View notes
juyeoniemyhoney · 3 years
Text
the simple things
Your country is physically incapable of snowing, much to your dismay. The closest thing you can get to snow is a copious amount of downpours. But as long as Jungkook is your boyfriend, snow in a country cursed with endless summer is not impossible anymore. 
-pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader 
-genre: fluff, established relationship
-warnings: a few vulgarities, may be a little stupid
-word count: 2103 words 
-A/N: hey guys it’s been a while since i posted. my exams ended like two weeks ago but ive been super inactive. ive just been in this really weird place creatively. but i hope this story makes up for it. i promise im trying to be more regular with posting fics. its only november but im already in a christmas mood! HAHA but anyways, hope you like it and my requests are open! 
--------
Something that you still have yet to comprehend is why your country still refuses to snow. Living close to the equator is all sorts of disappointing, especially for a hopeless romantic like you. But seriously, living in a country that only knows how to be hot means that most of the knowledge you know about winter romances are from sappy Christmas movies and the books you seem to like more than real people. You have complained about this topic to a multitude of people, as if your excessive, outspoken frustration will miraculously make it snow, and it does not help when these people, mostly your friends, reply back every single time with, “In December, it rains more, at least it’s more cool like that.” 
New friends seem more reasonable than having to hear that sentence again. 
At least Jungkook seems to agree with you. 
Indeed, the only good thing that comes out of your country’s insufferable refusal to just fucking snow is that Jungkook, your sweet, sweet, boyfriend, has always gone out of his way to make rainy days more special than they actually are. 
Jungkook usually doesn’t have time for you. As depressing as that sounds, it is mostly true. He is crazy devoted to his job as a video director and therefore, is mostly out and about, travelling all around the country and the world to film. But on rainy days, provided he is free from his jam-packed schedule, he has made it a habit to stay at home all day and shower you with all of his pent up affection, following you around your shared apartment like a lost puppy and endlessly pressing his lips to your skin, each one as if you are water and Jungkook is a man deprived. 
Today is a little different. 
You do not wake up early much, but it seems that every time you do, you are met with all sorts of unmistakably prejudiced misfortune. Like today, you had awoken early to head to the grocer for groceries that you were running low on. However, on your way home, the clouds had darkened with impending rain, seeming to look swollen, rather than fluffy. You had tried your best to reach home before it started to rain, but of course, you didn’t make it, rain falling from the sky, the downpour gradually getting heavier and you, gradually getting more and more wet, as if the universe was flashing the biggest middle finger to your face. 
You do not expect to see Jungkook waiting for you in the lobby of your apartment complex. 
“Kook?” you ask, a little breathless and drenched from head to toe. Jungkook, still in his pyjamas, stops his anxious pacing and looks up to you with heart-wrenchingly concerned eyes as he approaches you quickly. 
“Why do you always leave the house without an umbrella?” he scolds, though his concern outweighs his anger as he swaps the towel in his hand with the three bags of groceries you are holding. 
“Don’t you have work today?” you ask, unravelling the folded towel and wrapping it around your shoulders as the two of you head towards the elevators. Jungkook’s hair is unruly and tousled, the soft strands sticking up in different areas. His eyes are barely open, as if the purple half-moons under the glittering orbs are forcing them close, desperate for just a few more minutes of sleep. And it seems like he had left the house in a hurry, because his feet are clad in his bedroom slippers. Your heart swells at the sight. 
Jungkook frowns at you as the both of you step into the elevator, saying, “What do you mean? It’s raining today.”
“Yeah, but Kook, you can’t cancel work just because it’s raining. You’re a director,” you tell him with a raise of your eyebrows. He just flashes you a grin before stepping out of the elevator and making his way to your front door, waiting patiently in front of it for you to unlock it with your free hands. 
“Relax, all I have to do today is help with editing and thanks to the amazing invention of the email, I can do it at home.” 
You want to rejoice when you hear that he will be staying at home but you are too busy studying the fluffy white that litters the entrance of your home and seems to form a trail that leads further inside. You distractedly remove your shoes and haphazardly leave them by the door as you approach the substance, quickly bending down to pick it up, only for it to crumble from between your fingers. 
Distractedly, you gesture to Jungkook behind you, flailing your free hand to garner his attention. You start speaking when he lets out a soft hum of acknowledgement. “Kook, what is this?” 
Jungkook doesn’t answer you immediately but instead makes his way further into your apartment with the groceries in one hand and your wet shoes in the other (bless his benevolence), a secret smile turning the corners of his lips up as you trail behind him. 
“What the fuck,” is your reaction when the living room reveals itself. Your tone is not one of disbelief but one of awe because your living room is filled with the fluffy, white foam and there is a now a big Christmas tree right smack in the middle of your living room. The carpet has been rolled up and put away in the corner of the room and the sofa has been pushed flush against the wall opposite the television to make room for the white foam. 
“It’s fake snow,” you hear Jungkook answer from the kitchen, the rustling of plastic muffling his voice as he puts the groceries in their respective places. You see that the dryer is now running, you suppose, with your wet shoes inside it. Your heart warms at his thoughtfulness and as you turn around to look at Jungkook, you notice a big box of Christmas ornaments, ready for the both of you to decorate your new tree with. 
“Jungkook,” you call, flashing a pout in his direction, though he doesn’t see it, too busy putting away the ramen you bought into his precious ramen drawer to spare you a glance. He just hums again, to let you know he is listening, but he doesn’t have to listen because you do not say anything. Instead, you are creeping up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your cheek against his warm back. He doesn’t seem to mind the fact that you are still damp from the rain and just continues to pack the drawer with ramen, humming again to let you know that his attention is still on you. You feel the vibration of the hum against your cheek and the feeling warms your insides up like hot chocolate.
“When did you do this?” you ask, changing your position so that instead of your cheek, your chin rests on his back, allowing you to look at him, even though all you can see is the back of his head; the sight still elicits an adoring smile from you. 
“Well, I started after you left and I was going to make some hot chocolate but then it started raining,” he tells you, turning around a little to glance down at you, flashing you a sweet smile that causes your heart to leap in your chest. 
“Why did you do this,” you continue to interrogate him as Jungkook shuts the drawer, turning around in your arms to face you, his own arms coming around your shoulders. You rest your chin on his chest and Jungkook smiles down at you with a smile that could end world wars. 
“I know I’ve been isolating myself in my office recently. And I know how much you love snow. Plus, it’s November and I’m excited for Christmas,” Jungkook explains. He keeps his voice soft, lips stretching into an easy grin as he looks at you, gaze soft and apologetic and sweet, like his eyes are oozing with honey. You feel like your insides are a meadow in spring, flowers in full bloom, green grass, with bees and butterflies, and a warm spring breeze to finish it off. 
You flash him a grateful smile, tiptoeing so that your foreheads meet, noses brushing each other. At first, you both just simply look at each other, gazes loving and soft. “I love you so much,” is what you mutter before your lips finally meet, no hesitation, but instead, sure, with a practiced familiarity. Jungkook’s lips are as you remember, soft yet firm and he kisses you like he always seems to do on rainy days, desperate and taking, as if he is slowly drawing your heart out of your chest, before it finally falls and lands in his hands. And you allow him to take it. 
“I love you so much too,” Jungkook mutters between kisses, decidedly planting a loving peck to your nose, and then your forehead, and then both your cheeks, before finishing it off with a searing kiss to your lips. Your affection for him multiplies by a thousand and the sheer amount of it seems to shove your heart out of your chest; you can feel it in the way it strains against your ribcage with each thud and in the way it pumps hot blood to your cheeks, red, like a warning that it is choosing to jump ship and surrender itself to Jungkook. 
“Let’s go and decorate the Christmas tree,” you suggest to Jungkook, taking tentative steps backwards and in the direction of the living room. You expect Jungkook to let go of you but he holds you close to him and stays planted to the ground, unwavering. You flash him a look of confusion that elicits a small chuckle from him. 
“You have to take a warm bath first, sweetheart. Or you’ll catch a cold,” he explains, pulling you in the direction of the bathroom. He proceeds to draw you a bath, occasionally feeling the temperature of the water, not too hot and not too cold, but warm enough to rid your body of any cold symptoms. When he is satisfied, he is pressing a kiss to your lips and exiting the bathroom, gently closing the door behind him and leaving you in silence that your thoughts invade immediately.
You rid your body of your damp clothes and lower yourself into the tub, the sudden warm water and change of temperature eliciting goosebumps to the surface of your skin and you allow your thoughts to run. 
Now that you think about it, when you had first met Jungkook, he seemed standoffish and closed off, like you’d had to try for a thousand years before you could earn his trust and loyalty. For some reason, to you, Jungkook seemed too caught up with himself to care about other people, too busy to notice the small things. But when you started dating him, he was the exact opposite. Like you said, Jungkook doesn’t always have time for you. Even then, when he was still a student, he was always nose-deep in assignments and projects and his internship. But despite the fact that you don’t spend as much time with him as you’d like, Jungkook has always managed to remember the little things. Like how he know that you love winter and snow, how he knows your exact order from Starbucks and bubble tea, how he knows your favourite movies to watch, and how he always clears time to read anything new you’ve written. You know that there are a multitude of things that sustain your relationship, but you like to think that Jungkook’s unadulterated benevolence and thoughtfulness is one of the main reasons why you love him so much. 
When you emerge from the steamy bathroom, you are smelling more of lavender and vanilla and less of rainwater. Jungkook is getting ready to decorate the Christmas tree, pulling the box so that it is just under the tree and opening it to reveal the distinctive colours that are always associated with Christmas, green, red and white. 
You two immediately begin dressing the tree, and soon enough, the tree is sparkling and twinkling and beautiful. And as Jungkook places the golden star right at the top of the tree, he looks down at you and flashes you a blinding grin that you’re positive can outshine the sun every single time. And you think that even if you wanted winter to be snowy and cold, as long as Jungkook is with you, you’ll always be warm. 
68 notes · View notes
narvana27 · 3 years
Text
The relationship between Omi & Chase Young:
Tumblr media Tumblr media
We see Chase being "interested" in Omi since he first appeared on the show. He thinks Omi can fight, that He's a good warrior bla bla bla. For me it's one of these times, when we as viewers have to believe that something we're watching have some sense. For some incomprehensible for me reason Omi is treated like a gold boy since the beginning of the show till it's end. He himself thinks he's almost a God, acknowledging only figures like Master Fung, Master Monk Guan or Grand Master Dashi. He's UNLIKEBLE to me cuz of that, and for others - He's just straight up annoying. As if that was not enough, we get Chase Young being interested in him. But why? He can fight, right, but as well as the others, so why Omi is that "precious" to him, and why did he find him so interesting in the first place? Because of Omi attacking him straight away the first second he saw him? But he didn't win… 🤨 He did absolutely NOTHING to Chase, who didn't even had to try to defend his attacks. Why Chase wasn't never that interested in Rai, after he wanted to fight him when he got Omi on his side? Wasn't that impressive? I think and I'm sure Chase would HAVE to acknowledge Rai for becoming a shoku warrior, but ofc we don't have a chance to see that. To the point: In Chronicles it was said that they were somehow related. To me - bullshit. They look completely different, Dashi looks more like Omi's "family" or whatever than Chase! As a kid I imagined Chase being someone like… Idk, father to Omi, but I leave that idea quickly, cuz it doesn't make any sense. If there's any way Omi and Chase are related I see this like: Maybe Omi is in some way relative to Dashi, who is, idk, brother from another father with Chase, so He's like… His uncle or whatever?? Idk, but in the original (and only true to me xiaolin universe) Chase didn't say EVER a single word about him being related to Omi, so I'm just gonna assume that this was another not too good invention of Chronicles. They added Kim a brother and sister, and replaced Clay's sister Jessie with a brother, so as well they could make them relatives. So, if we have this "theory" ruined, another thing: Omi never fully and openly said he dont want Chase's attention. Neither to Chase himself, neither to his teammates. EVEN MORE SO! He LIED to them, or never told them about some things between him and Chase. Like when he rescued him from the Yun Sphere? Or when he met Chase, who thought him reverse monkey move in the Episode with Sibbini? But SOMEHOW this little rat has the AUDACITY to say He's honorable, after he, again, worked with Chase and they used Fountain of Hui and Eaglescope to get to know the reason to fight… something, someone, I don't quite remember, but u get the point. It's obvious Omi's flattered with Chase adoring him like that. He ofc won't admit it, but he is. He's such a good xiaolin monk, good, excellent fighter and warrior, he's the "chosen one" as he use to claim in the first Episode, and yet - He has a history of secretly meeting with their biggest enemy just to chit chat with him or even HELP HIM… Excuse me what? If he would have been as good as he claims, he would go to Master Fung and talk about it with him. But he didn't, he kept all of the situations he had with Chase to himself, and even Young himself told him that they have more in common than Omi thinks. And maybe the biggest thing: The Mission, after which it would reveal itself who deserves to be a shoku. After Chase invaded the temple with Wuya, and Rai said that if there wouldn't be Chase around, they would fight the rest of the evil and could rest now, Omi thought about bringing good Chase back. U can say that it was inspired by what Rai said and I get it, but u can not say that it was the only reason. It is clear that he decided it's gonna be his Mission also because of his biiig will for Chase to be good again. A list of reasons why that was a horrible idea is quite long, so Im not gonna write it here (for now), but it only leads to why he wasnt a choice with being a leader: He's just stupid. He wants what he wants more than he
cares about anything else. The truth is he adores Chase and his attention more than he wants him on the Heylin side. When Rai was like: "Im gonna drink the soup for good sake od the whole world and my friends" Kim was like: "Are u fucking stoopit no you won't!" (which only gives a plus to my theory about them being together in that particular "Universe" in which Clay was the leader), and what Omi said and to WHO? To Chase ofc XDD I mean he cared more about Chase being evil AGAIN, then about Rai being ready to drink the soup for them, as a result of what he's done with this whole time traveling and helping Chase idea, Im-... Honestly, are we shooketh? Are we really? I think this Mission showed the most about all of them, especially about Omi and Rai, and about how Omi's in love with the idea of Chase being good again. To add something on the Chase side: As I said before: I don't understand why he is so focused on Omi, imo he's not so super "out" of his group with fighting to this being the main reason. I always accept possibility that all of the shit I analize don't have a deeper meaning and maybe it's the case here. Maybe it was just a concept for plot, maybe not, but either so it added a lot to the story and Omi's character. His relationship between him and Chase is strange: They both claim they're enemies, but they just kind of… like each other. What Chase said at some point, In his opinion Omi can grow to be a big trouble for him and the evil in the future, that's why he wants him on his side. He also said if he will not succeed at this, he's gonna have to kill him. But like… U tried to kill everyone of his teammates but him. He was shortly on your side, but you lose him… I think it's time for you to try to kill him too already, maybe? Perhaps? Please??
14 notes · View notes
ayyponine · 3 years
Text
talk to me abt sharp objects calhoun day episode
bc it might b my favourite idk. idk which writer or whatever involved first went like “you know what. lets invent this holiday thing” but i owe them my life. youre halfway thru yr episodes, main character just published an article saying “the killer might be someone within the community” so everyone who read it instantly goes “so its DEFINITELY one of these two people oh boy!!” and then they all gather into the local rich ladys backyard to passive aggressively exchange some words until shit blows up. you just spend yr episode waiting fr that pot to boil over. chef kiss.
anyway im yelling at smth every two to three minutes because
Tumblr media
the way alan (fuck you) acts all self assured coming into the ivory tile bedroom having reclaimed territory after adora flirted w the police chief but he asserted some dominance by arguing, acting all masculine and then adora lying in bed letting him have some after theyve been sleeping in seperate beds for a while so he thinks hes the big man now. but also once downstairs it’s like we have to go buy camillle smth appropriate fr the day. just girls alan youre NOT invited. you do have to drive us there though and then sit in the car and wait fr us outside. good i fucking hate that guy.
camilles shopping trip from HELL. first you have amma going like mammaa i am babyyy giv me attention :(( and bursting the bubble, demanding they listen to her when adora first refuses that. then adora immediately turning herself into the victim in the situation bc the second she hears news abt the article and experiences stress she starts bleeding frm the cut on her hand again (which the shop assistant also asked about. she had heard the fucking news of adoras horrible traumatic wound which kept her weak and inside all day.... she had cut it on a fucking rose bush ma’am...) acting all “uugghhhh im so upset youve made me bleed you girls did this to me uwuwuwu ://” and then icing on the cake, the shop assistant steps up with two thin strapped pink frilly dresses like ohh camille thisll look great on you i bet :) welcome to hell
the now iconic dressing room scene ft. adora snatching the clothes (bitch) and going like whaaat why are you upset just come outside we dont have time fr this :// and after being at least a little shocked @camille’s scars going straight back into “it hardly matters. youre ruined.” like oh my daughter did this to herself and its all to upset meeeeeee
back at home the moment of mb genuine vulnerability and connection btwn amma and camille acknowledging that living at home can be hard sometimes and mb they could understand each other and be like. supportive while trying to get through this. amma offering to borrow her a dress that both camille and adora would be approving of. tfw u just went thru a real mess of a family situation but you still gotta dress nice and smile through the day bc youre representing your mother and have to not be ungrateful after everything she’s done for you. aaaaa
the call to curry and the meaning of home... camille’s "i should probably just head home” vs his “i thought that sending you home would help” then shifting to “wanna come home kiddo?” aka home is w him and eileen, actual supportive parental figures who can admit to making a mistake and will try to express they love her, try to make her laugh. during their earlier call he was like great job on the article we need more asap and it then shifting to him actually admitting like maybe it was wrong of him to send her there bc while talking to him she feels able to say shit like “whenever im here i feel like a bad person” or “im not decent” and they just try to reassure her and help in response of what she needs. aaaaaa
everyone looking at each other. looking looking looking and people frm different little subgroups interacting by bumping into one another and splitting up again and making snide little remarks to their own private company. b r u h
camille in the prev episode first refusing a kiss frm kansas city and taking it into a more sexual direction instead, then finally making out w him when he dropped her off back home and adora was watching them from inside the house. now catching adora’s gaze fr a second before taking his arm and leaning in a bit more. adora moving in to offer him a house tour the second he’s left alone. adora then having slipped into this persona of seeming like a super reasonable and understanding nuanced woman w genuine concern for her daughter’s wellbeing while subtly saying things to maybe put him off her aka “she’s still recovering from a recent episode”. and camilles instant like panic when jackie comes over to tell her adora is giving kc a house tour and afterwards interrogating him in turn like haha what did she say tho. kansas city stupid idiot thinking theyre boyfriend and girlfriend now like wow those floors.. haha yeah but no what the FUCK did she day tho nervous SWEAT
amma earlier being so happy to hear camille wants to run lines with her like yes!! attention from estranged big sister!! but then during her big performance she’s not even looking bc she’s too busy cozying up to the other out of towner misfit. the second that fight breaks out no one, not even adora is looking, so amma gets upset and instantly switches like okay BYE. and it WORKS. the way adora is then instantly just bereaved and elegantly sobbing on her porch like a weak little lady because yes her daughter just went missing while young teens exactly like her are getting murdered but this elegant damsel is also in distress AT LEAST as much thank you.. and the way the MEN instantly run into the woods to save the day and presumably kill the *checks notes f-slur mexican out of town truck driver or whatever who’s been killing these children. go pick up some rocks to destroy thanks fellas youre doing great
camille also going into the woods and stressing out because she’s getting flashbacks to marian (and alice? idk they all look alike lmao), aka other young girls she cared abt and failed to protect, resulting in them dying. earlier w the people she knew frm high school we were shown brief but fully separated trauma cuts (flashes of different scenes) but in this situation past and present, real and imaginary are merging right in front of her and she feels helpless to stop it. if you just saw the previous episode you know it ended w her worried about finding amma in the shed, dead, toothless. and now she does find her in that shed (alive tho). instantly rescued and put to bed for pampering.
this episode spans the events of a single day but you see adora in three different outfits. theyre all soft pastels but her nails are long and red. we get into the drinks on the veranda scene which i cannot think about without wanting to throw hands. earlier jackie made a comment on adora’s “friends” being porch girls during calhoun day like. theyre not on the lawn w the common folk but also kept out of the house. you’re soooo welcome here but don’t fucking come in. and the way adora asked her to share a drink w her please, seeming tired after the drama of the day and now in her nightdress, in soft lighting, even starting by saying she wants to apologise. only for that to turn into hurt city central. im gonna throw hands with a fifty yr old. the whole thing abt being born to a cold nature, not able to get close which is such a shame and completely camille’s own fault of course :/ her then running off to kansas city whos so enamoured w this mysterious troubled but snarky cool girl image he has of her and fucking w her clothes on and the lights out with the closeup on “closer” carved into her bit of exposed skin. aaaaAAA
but also it’s in all the little things :)) like before the event camille being dressed in dark colours while adora and amma are in pink, the old magazine mother/daughter picture which camille wasn’t welcome in, only eternally perfect little marian. “she takes after her father” aka a dude you dont like and dont ever want to even acknowledge or talk about. but said only in the most pleasant way in passing :) / amma switching moods frm mamas perfect little angel starring in the play to “my other phone... dont tell mama” and the phone casing kinda looking like ann’s bicycle seat (white with flowers) / camille being so ready to snark back and deflect/ cut it short whenever someone tries to bring up a sensitive subject / “my scars will armour me!” and this whole play glorifying the martyrdom of millie calhoun. aka camilles “great-great-great-grand victim” and the bloodline and generational type of suffering for your loved ones. everyone just looking on and doting on these kids performing a horrid little play starring the ideal and pure heroine victim. the sick perversion and gleeful watchers of violence like everything is just fine. btw yes the kids had been doing drugs while looking at the dollhouse inside and theyre inappropriately giddy abt their little performance. also the next episode in the first five minutes containing a flashback to marian calling camille “millie”. i will yell
(also wnted to mention this video bc it touches on thought cuts and the LOOKING and having to keep up appearances due to constantly being judged but. it’s about other episodes as well so idk it’s a great video but i couldn’t neeatly fit it in anywhere).
(bonus fr anyone who actually read thru this lmao. when i think of camille i think of one vine and it’s this one)
5 notes · View notes
phonecallwithsatan · 3 years
Text
just look for my owl (three)
a.n. : I am in awe that there are TEN of you that follow me. I don’t even care if I get bullied for geeking out over ten followers. I’m so happy and glad you all enjoy what i’ve written. My lovelies, here is chapter three of this series. I think its getting interesting but im too scared to add mature stuff in here because i dont know how you all will react. Look at me, speaking to my ten followers. It’s a press conference at this point. Chap. four is soon to follow tonight so please keep out for that! This fic is a they/them reader, so  I will only refer to you as they/them. 3k words, fred weasley x y/n, enjoy!<3
Our beloved Fred Weasley falls for Ilvermorny student [y/n] [l/n]. He’s determined to get to them, but the only way he can is through post sent through the two. The only thing left for the pair is to just look for an owl.
Check out chapter two before you read this!
It had been four days since that owl came in to deliver Fred Weasley’s Professor a parcel from [Y/n l/n]. 
It had been four days since Fred hadn’t stopped thinking about [y/n].
Luckily, no suspicions from his professor were brought up about the missing photo, and he was glad. The professor even came in during his quidditch practice to chat with the students cheerfully, even taking a few photos of the team as a whole and separately. 
Today was the 31st of October, and the Triwizard champions were chosen shortly after Fred began to dig into his food, irritated at the interruption that faced him.
Or maybe he should say the Quartet champions now that Harry was facing the tournament too.
Dinner wrapped up a bit after that, and the two twins carried on to their dorms surprisingly silent the whole way. Not causing any ruckus or speaking even.
Perhaps it was because they were disappointed at the selection of Harry even though he was younger than the two twins. They could have had a chance now that he was chosen, but Fred knew that it wasn’t about that.
He didn't know about his twin at the moment, normally he does, but Fred was in a hurry to get to his dorm and sleep, as he had no homework.
Everyday for these past four days, Fred has dreamed about [y/n]. Dreaming, thinking, pondering, it was all connected to them. Not a particular storyline, not at all, his dreams were more of the idea of a real-life physical them.
[y/n] in his jumper, [y/n] in Hogwarts robes, their hand in his under the table during dinner at the great hall, how they would say his name in any context. His thoughts were severely occupied with them and Fred was okay with that.
These ideas followed their way through the portrait hole, into the Gryffindor common room, and up the stairs to the boys dorm. 
He had yet to wash himself off after his long day, so Fred went off to the left side of the dorm to access his trunk at the end of his bed. He takes out a simple orange towel and closes the chest up. He then takes off his sweater vest only to place it on his bedspread.
Walking over to his bedside table, Fred decides to let [y/n] take a dip into his daydreams as he looks in his drawer for the photo of them.
No, thinks Fred. No, no, no, no, no, cascading words now fill Fred’s brain as he panics about the fact that his polaroid was missing.
The polaroid of [y/n] was now missing from Fred’s bedside table, confused as to how exactly he misplaced something so golden.
His whole dresser was obviously rummaged through. There were a few sickles missing along with an extra jar of ink and- his stash of Fizzing Whizzbees and Jelly Slugs. He genuinely frowned at the candy more than anything else, but then he remembered about the photo that was missing- stolen now.
Fred whipped his head back to see who was in the boys’ shared dorm, and the only person he saw was his twin chatting with a visiting fifth year student. 
Now completely turned, Fred walks to the front of his bed and pulls out his trunk, wondering if he had left it in there by accident, but it was no luck.
“George,” started Fred with his back to his twin.
George turned to his brother. 
“What is it, Fred?” He asked with confusion. He noticed the drawer hanging on by a thread off the rest of the table and decided to completely disregard his conversation at that point. “I’ll catch you later.” 
As the friend walks out of the boys’ dormitories, Fred begins to explain what had happened, hand motions waving around. They usually appear when there is something wrong.
“Someone rummaged through my stuff,” Fred motions to his dresser, “did you let anyone else come in here and mistake it for yours?” 
George looked at his twin with furrowed brows until his face lightened up a bit from the clarity. 
“Yeah, actually. Cedric Diggory from Hufflepuff was in here and he asked me for some ink.”
“George, what the hell.” Fred was beyond confused as to what, first of all, Cedric Diggory, one of the Triwizard champions, was doing in the Gryffindor common room. Why he was needing ink in the middle of the day and why his drawer. “You let him go through it? Half of my items are missing.” Fred was furious at how irresponsible his brother was at the moment.
“He was desperate and I felt bad.” A simple response from a boy with little to no empathy when it came to using a twelve-year-old student as a lab rat for their inventions. A particular unnamed candy that is still a work in progress gave her severe diarrhea for weeks straight.
“George, he stole money, candy, and t- What is wrong with you?” He cut himself quick before he could expose [y/n] to his brother. He was mad at him and now was not the time to gush about them.
“It’s fine, we’ll talk to him tomorrow.” George laughs at his twin for being unmanageable, but Fred is unamused.
“Piss off.” Fred takes his towel and goes town to the bathrooms, bringing a change of clothes with him.
Fred was a bit after hours for students, but he couldn't wait to get the bath located in the prefect's bathroom.
Yes, Fred had snuck in there, but that's because the boys’ dormitory bathroom was disgustingly filled with too many boys in one perimeter. So with this in mind, Fred knew exactly where to go to relax from the fuming that happened between himself and his brother.
Fred dropped his towel by the edge of the water and took off his shoes. Setting them neatly by the towel, he began to work on his shirt. He loosened his tie but not all the way so the loop in it would stay. He began to unbutton his shirt, hands working a bit slower than normal. He did not come here often, nor was he a prefect, so he took his time.
He looked up from his hands and Fred looked at the mermaid mural on the stained glass, thinking of [y/n], the beauty remarkable from either photo. Not that Fred was comparing physical features from the mermaid and from [y/n], he was rather just acknowledging how both were, to put it literally, breathtaking. 
The colors from it shaded his body in colors of pinks and blues, diluting a bit now that the white shirt was shrugged off his body. The color was not as vibrant now, but his light skin and freckles that were splattered all over his chest created a new palette of shades.
He dropped his shirt on top of his other items and he undid his belt, leaving it on the belt loops of his pants as he takes them off as well, folding them up unlike his shirt and dropping them on his pile of clothes. All he had left were his boxers, and they were soon added to the tower of items on his right side.
He stepped into the water while simultaneously checking for any other visitors. It was a bit late for that, though, considering that he was completely exposed at that point. 
The moonlight shone through the glass, some areas of the floor painted colors with the light. The water was flowing from a few taps and bubbles were flying everywhere. Fred shifted a bit from his old placement in the giant pool so his arms were now propped on the edge.
Now with the photo in the hands of a certain someone he considered a snake, even though they were in Hufflepuff, Fred needed to confront Cedric for not only his money, his candy, and his ink without consent, Fred needed to confront him about [y/n]. What kind of a freak just steals a photo? 
Oh, thought Fred. 
What if, somehow, Cedric gets a hold of [y/n]? Impossible, he reassured himself. Cedric doesn't even know their name. He knows nothing. He's a loathsome rat who steals money, candy, ink, and photos. 
Smiling to himself for coming up with that description, Fred quickly goes down the same road again.
What if, somehow, [y/n] likes him, instead? What if- His mind was filled with ‘what-ifs’ and ‘somehows’ that clouded his brain. Cedric shouldn't have been running through his mind regardless. There’s just no possibility where [y/n] would even meet him.
He was consumed with someone who did not know he existed Fred was jealous that someone else was in possession of that photograph.
The only way to eliminate Cedric was to get to [y/n] first, and he knew his plan from the moment he saw their photo.
He was going to catch his professor at the owlery in the castle, and sneak his own letter in there. This way, both parcels would miraculously be carried over the Atlantic ocean.
His professor wouldn't notice and hopefully [y/n] wouldn't be too freaked out.
The tap finished spewing water and the room went silent except for a few drips coming from one of the spouts. Fred estimated his time and decided to waste none of it, so he dunked his head underwater out of impulse and came back up with his hair sticking to his forehead. 
He needed to write.
Fred was now back in his common room sitting on a couch with his parchment spread out over his legs and couch, and his wet hair slowly dripping on it, making the ink smear a bit. He had crumpled up at least five different drafts of a few sentences while sitting there.
He was wearing grey pants and a gryffindor jumper, keeping him warm on the first day of November. It was about one at night and he could hear his brother, Ron Weasley, snoring from the upstairs dorms.
He dug up a few polaroids he had taken with his brother at the beginning of the year to drop in the parcel. Fred had decided to make this out to his mother, Molly Weasley, hence the photos would have been for her. Molly wanted photos taken with their new camera and photos of their new brooms for Quidditch being put to use properlly.
Normally, Fred didn't really use muggle instruments, but he did have a shared camera with his twin, George. Luckily, a shop in Hogsmeade sold refills for it.
And they would have, Fred and George ended up taking photos of themselves during Quidditch practice, making sure to hide the camera from teachers and spectators so it wouldn't be taken away. Snape would make it his life goal to snatch it away from them when really it did no harm.  They took photos of their jerseys, the field, a few separates, a few with the team, and two separate ones of the twins. They were planning to give them to their mum, but these photos would be put to use differently.
It was a brilliant plan in his eyes. [y/n] would surely respond to his so-called mistake, right? Hopefully they would send a letter back, and maybe a few polaroids for himself to keep. It’s brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.
Fred began his sixth attempt at writing out a letter to his own [y/n].
Mum,
We miss the burrow. And you and dad, of course. 
As promised, the photos. We think you’ll really enjoy these, since you probably miss our ravishing looks.
There’s not much to write about, mum. Ginny is okay, Ron is alright, and George is asleep somewhere right now. Otherwise, they would have scribbled something on here.
Fred
It was too short but he couldn’t think of anything else to write to his mum. She had written to Ginny a few days prior so he had given all viable information to Ginny’s response letter.
He reacted quickly to the water that dripped off his hair and snatched the parchment before it could bleed and combine with the ink. The script was perfect, absolutely incomparable to his other drafts.
Time moved fast and it was now two in the morning. Fred took his parchment and placed it neatly in the parcel. He took his stack of polaroids and placed them in the parcel.
Almost forgetting, Fred searched through the polaroids and found the two individual snapshots of the twins in their uniforms. Molly constantly mixed the two up when they wore their quidditch uniforms, always forgetting who was #5 and who was #6. Their own mother. It severely got worse every year.
From totally forgetting to absolutely forgetting, Fred forgot that this letter wasn’t even going to reach his mother. He had already marked up the photos though, that was just an afterthought.
He looked at the photo of himself and his twin standing in front of the center field, astonished as to how clear it was. He could see his features perfectly unlike the photo he previously had of [y/n] that was blurry but nonetheless readable.
Shoving the photos back into the parcel, he wrapped it up nicely and carefully wrote the address of the burrow on it.
His plan was slowly coming into action, and Fred was just excited to see it play out.
Fred had ended up spilling everything to his twin the day he planned to sneak his letter along with McGonagall’s.
“So you have no clue who [y/n] is, and you’re providing photos of you and your friends to this person, might I add again, who you don’t know? Fred, this is ridiculous.” George was talking to his twin in the corridor right before the owlery as they were both waiting for the professor to return with a response letter. Fred had been holding onto the parcel for a few days now, and yesterday, he saw that familiar brown owl arrive again.
McGonagall greeted the owl mid-class and took the letter in hand to place it safely in her desk. The owl remained on the window perch for the rest of class.
Fred wasn’t able to see who sent it, but he knew that owl all too well to be mistaken for someone else owling his Professor.
Just as Fred was about to respond to his brothers snarky question, they heard footsteps down the hall and they began to walk up to the owlery.
They had decided to distract McGonagall with a familiar owl, Hedwig. Harry had been complaining how she had been squawking too much for normal. Harry wouldn’t mind, though, because he never had to know that his owl was involved in a hopelessly romantic ploy.
Fred and George were now in the owlery next to Hedwig, feeding her snacks they had brought for compensation. It was only fair to her that she got something in response. A few strange squawks escaped her beak.
“Good morning Mr. and Mr. Weasley. Are you writing someone?” McGonagall was an expert at knowing who was who just off the back of their heads. Granted, she could probably tell the two apart without them turning around. 
“Just paying a visit to Hedwig here, professor. We need to get going soon.” George glanced at Hedwig mid-sentence and gave the professor a small smile.
Their plan was failing terribly. McGonagall was getting her owl ready for the journey by winding the ribbon around its leg to hold the letter more in place. 
Normally, Fred and George would just place a note in Errol's beak, but since it was a longer distance they would have to find a way to tie it around the owls leg.
Luckily, Hedwig served as an amazing distraction as she began to choke and squawk on the snacks they were giving her. It was a time of crisis but the twins had to act fast.
McGonagall turned to the twins and quickly discarded her owl to help them. She pushed them aside and began to aid the choking owl, George began to laugh a at the visual of an owl choking, but quickly put it away as he got a scolding look from McGonagall, who was now shaking the owl. 
Fred used this distraction to run over and tie his letter to the owls leg, attaching his and his professors letter to the owl. The animal began to flap its wings, confused as to why an unknown ginger was picking at his feet, but Fred was too busy to yell at it.
By attaching his letter to McGonagall’s owl, Fred didn't need to get authorization from someone to send it. He also did not have to get it searched, as he was sneaking it through.
He turned to see George motioning him to hurry, laughing at the same time because his professor was still talking to the bird, trying to get it to stop choking. 
Fred was able to tie the letters successfully and shooed the owl quickly, noticing how the two letters weighed it him down a little, making Fred laugh too. He didn’y understand how he pulled it off, but he was happy it worked- somewhat. The owl was steadily flapping it’s wings but Fred could see that it wasn’t used to that type of weight on its feet.
He speed walked back to his professor who was oblivious as to what happened behind her back. The twins were wrong for laughing at the McGonagall who wanted to just help them deal with the animal cruelty they put on Hegwig, but it was a visual they would never forget. And truly, it was a little funny and dramatic.
Fred wondered again how the hell his absurd plan worked, but he was glad that he was able to send out the parcel, and avoid murdering his friends owl with food.
“There, girl. You’re alright. You spit out.” McGonagall consoled the owl by patting her head. She turned to the twins and scolded them for being so irresponsible with someone else's owl.
“Potter doesn’t know, does he?” She asked.
The two twins looked at eachother and ran off laughing, leaving McGonagall clueless to everything that just happened. 
Soon after that, Fred realized that he had just created the beginning of something new in his life. Something that he had yet to receive not in person, but rather in a form of a letter.
All he had left to do was look for that Brown owl.
13 notes · View notes
enbypanposi · 4 years
Note
hey genuine question but whats the difference between bi and pan? so sorry if this sounds rude but im just curious
Alright so im gonna use this ask to soapbox a little. Your question is not bad and is in fact a common one so no shame but I just have some Thoughts on this.
Hot take, but: There is no functional difference that matters among any mspec identity. Hear me out:
I see loads of posts trying to find a difference, and they ultimately become very granular and honestly thats not how orientation usually works. Its an instinct and and impulse and we dont control it. There a whole lot of “bi means 2 or more and pan means all with no preference and omni means all with preference” and etc for every mspec identity but thats not accurate. Pan people have preferences, omni people might not, and there are definite flaws with the ‘two or more’ definition of bi that bi blogs have pointed out better than I ever could. When we get more and more specific with identity that way we exclude people who dont fit the definition because we make it retroactively narrower. “Pan means x and y but not z” leads to “therefore all mspec people who are x and y must be pan no matter what label they use” and “therefore pan people who are z must use a different label.” Thats not right. Labels arent just words whose definitions we fit, their words we CHOOSE to describe us. Definitions dont pick peoples labels, people pick peoples labels. So I think when we ask this ‘whats the difference’ question we mean well but ultimately reinforce gatekeeping identity. ‘Whats the difference’ is kind of meaningless because sexuality is individual and everyone has different experiences with it and how they define themself, which may not be exactly 10000% in line with their chosen label. A bi and pan person may both describe their sexuality the same way, but that doesnt mean that they ARE the same, and plenty other bi and pan people will describe it in different ways. Sexuality isnt rigidly defined and in fact cant be. It may make it easier to think about when we invent these rigid definitions but ultimately thats not a good thing and will just make people more confused about themselves. Not everyone is able to parse out and differentiate x and y and z in their sexuality. Plenty of people dont want to. They shouldnt be barred from these labels and these labels shouldnt be made to bar people.
Now, that doesnt mean they should all be collapsed into one label, it means that this ‘whats the difference’ question is irrelevant and ultimately made to create restrictions. These restriction shouldnt exist. Labels are and should remain flexible terms we choose to apply to ourself. They should not be forced on us because we fit that definition ‘better’ than another, thats just weaponizing definitions. And honestly? I do see people do this quite a bit and its not right. Bi people will say they use that label because theyre capable of being attracted to anyone and people will tell them they should be using pan instead then. Thats not right. This happens not just to bi people but to all mspec people, and I want to make it extra clear that thats the exact kind of nonsense that happens when we insist that these things are rigid and inflexible and that the only reason we use labels is because we fit the definitions. Not true. Personal choice and attachment plays a huge role, and no one can or should force another to adopt a certain term. So, the idea that they have to be monumentally, quantifiably different and distinct only really plays into this idea. Are there distinctions? Yes. Are there reasons a person might choose one over the other? Yes. But BOTH of those things are ultimately person to person, not innate truths of the words themselves. The words are just loose ways to be mspec, and individual people will be mspec in their own way which is as varied as people can be, ie: infinite.
Again I dont think this means that its all one label or should be collapsed into one. I think no matter how you try to do that youre going to be elevating one mspec identity while insisting the others are inferior to it. The Bi+ Umbrella is just one example--no shade to people or organizations who choose to use it. I understand how its important from a legal standpoint to say ‘all mspec people fall under the B in LGBT+’ because otherwise there are no protections for us mspec folk who are not bi--I think it gets a bad rep from folks who dont get this and I think theres definitely BETTER ways to do it, but, sure, it exists for a reason which deserves to be acknowledged. What it does, however inadvertently, is imply that Bi is the pinnacle of being mspec and all the umbrella identities are less. Youll see a lot that Bi is a macro identity and that Pan, Ply, Omni are each microlabels because ‘they all fit the definition of bi’ but in truth each fits the definition of each other anyway. You could easily say that Omni is a macro identity and Bi Pan and Ply are microlabels because they each fit the definition of omni and youd be right. Its not a useful way to describe labels no matter which way you slice it. Theyre equals and the distinctions are as varied as the people who use them. Its one grand community of mspec people all using the same words in different ways and that should be celebrated! When we focus in on differences we just separate from each other and exclude and nitpick the words we use for ourselves and each other. It prevents us from forming solidarity as people who all face the same oppression and the same joy.
TLDR?: Theres not really any kind of distinction that matters since sexuality is different to different people. Its better to leave labels vague and flexible because thats how theyre used and doing the opposite reinforces gatekeeping and other negative ways to view being mspec. The differences arent identity based theyre person based and rooted in experience and not the literal definitions of words. Forming solidarity is much more important than picking out the minor ways we are different.
Tumblr media
47 notes · View notes
honeybeewriter · 4 years
Text
Angel in disguise
Chapter 1: Settling in 
AN: The first few chapters will take place before the USJ attack, so the dorms aren’t implement yet. i hope yall enjoy chapter one of aid. feel free to talk to me about it too!!
Tumblr media
—————-
Passing buildings and roaring cars filled you with excitement, your heart racing as you daydreamed of your classes and what its like on campus. Kyoka taps your shoulder lightly, careful not to startle you out of your thoughts. You turn to your now host sister “yes Kyoka?” You tilted your head in curiosity 
“Are you excited?” Her voice soft as she tucks a strand of loose hair behind her ear, her onyx eyes looking over your expression. 
“Very!! I cant wait to see my class and get to know everyone! It sucks that we aren't in the same class.” You voice cheerful but it wavers at the end. You really hope to have at least one class with her, you might be excited but a familiar face would be nice to have.
A gentle chuckle from the front seat from mika as she turned around “remember (y/n) there are other classes besides hero and support, so im sure youll have a class together. So don't worry too much dear.” 
“Hopefully, someone to hang out with other than the boys!” Kyoka groaned as she rubs her face as her phone chimed 
“The boys?” You questioned but before she could answer, the car was pulled to a stop, ‘home already?!’ Your thoughts echoed as you mindlessly unbuckle your seatbelt. The home in front of you wasn't huge but it was perfect in your eyes 
“Kyotoku! Help me out with (y/n) things!” 
You didn't even realize that you were the last one still in the vehicle, as you step out of the car you turn to the back end of the car, watching mika and kyotoku pull your luggage from the trunk. The sticker covered bags rolling against the ground, passing you “hey kiddo? You off in dream land?” Kyotoku waved a hand with a chuckle, placing his hand on your hair “come on we are gonna rockin time!!” 
Mika unlocks the door, guiding the family inside. As you enter the scent of lilac hits your nose it’s calming, once again your spaced out as you take in your new home until graduation. 
The exchange program was a long term deal between schools, a support hero for a support hero. You have a wonderful talent of inventing new tech for the pros! Its just you lack the confidence boost you desperately need, hopefully this is it. 
Kyoka placed a gloved hand on your shoulder as she nods to her parents “come on, we will show you to your room” you both begin to walk “i know its like 5am but we have to be at school by 8am, so try to sneak in some sleep.” She nudged you playfully as the four of you reached the room. 
Blank cream walls with hardwood floors decorated with a full size bed in the middle in front of a window. “Feel free to go all out in this room, it is yours after all. Make yourself at home kiddo” Kyotoku ruffles your hair as he exits the room after setting the luggage down. Mika smiled a motherly smile towards you “Get some rest before school” simple yet warmly mika said as she exits the room to join her husband in the other room 
“I'll wake you up 30 minutes before we leave, sleep well” Kyoka yawned as she sat down the last item of yours and left the room to go sleep in her own bed. 
Your body, exhausted from the long trip, as soon as your head hits the pillow; your heavy eyelids shut and you drifted off into a blissful sleep.
At your old school you were one of the top support students, always making amazing support items. Always something new in the works, even when it blew up in your face you would alway huff, but your father would never let you bring yourself down. He always said, “Look angelwings, things wont improve if you sit and sulk, dont let failure scare you, okay? Let your failure be your inspiration to improve.” 
 Remembering it like it was yesterday when you made your first successful item for your medic mother, a medical clipin that could record a patient's vitals. That was what got you noticed by UA. The nursing industry suggested you to UA because they all believed you had a gift! So here you are, in japan, for the rest of the school life. 
Knock 
Knock 
Knock
“(y/n) its time to get up, we have to go if we want to catch the bus!” Kyoka called from the other side of the door. The cracks in the blinds allowed inkling of the morning golden rays to dribble in the room, filling it with warmth. 
Pushing yourself up from the short slumber made you groan as your host sister pushed the door open. “Rise and shine, i have your uniform, ill lay it on the bed. Mom has breakfast ready for us.. So um, just get ready and come down when your ready” she muttered softly as she laid the outfit down onto your bed. 
With heavy feathers you stretch your wings up and back, releasing any tension within the joints. Luckily the uniform has wing slits for you. You fought with the undershirt for a good minute, a victorious “AHAH!!” bounced off the walls of your room. Finally with you dressed the part you make your way downstairs. 
The smell of gohan, eggs and tsukemono filled your nose, Your feet moved faster than your stomach. “Good Morning sweetheart, I made a togo breakfast and alittle extra for lunch, since your money hasn’t transferred quite yet. But im sure kyoka wouldnt mind sharing lunch with you, right hun?” Mika hummed as she finished the bento box, handing both boxes to the two of you. Kyoka nods “Oh! Of course… it's the others i'm worried about..” She muttered as her earphone jacks poke together nervously.
Mika smiled, rolling her eyes softly as she ushered you both out the door “hurry up or you'll miss the bus to school.'' Kyoka takes both bentos, holding them as she leads you to the end of the street where the bus stop stood. 
“Okay, so before we get to school, you might run into some of my friends. I know at lunch you will meet them but just to name the main few. You have Yayo-momo, Uraraka, and mina for a few females.” The bus arrives and you both board, taking a seat together, bento boxes in the respectful lap. “Now for the boys, you have kaminari, kirishima, sero and bakugou. Watch out on bakugou. He is kinda a hot head.” You giggle at her statement acknowledging the information. “But you might not see everyone I just mentioned, due to you being in class 1-F.” With quiet nod silence fell between you and your sister. You watched the small countryside city skated by in a blurr.
After a short while, the bus came to a gentle stop at the UA entrance. Kyoka stood up, and you followed her motions holding on gentle to the back of her book bag. You were nervous and scared of the new school, as any new kid would. As you both exit the bus, Nezu stands on top of Power Loader’s helmet waving to you both . 
“Ah! Good Morning jiro and (L/n)!! I hope you had a wonderful flight! It's a pleasure to finally you! As you know i'm principal Nezu! And this man” he pats the metal hat with his paws “Is Power Loader! He will be your teacher from here on out!!” Power loader gave a sincere smile as and held out a sheet of paper “this is the school map, incase you ever get lost.” You smile as you take the paper from the teacher and giving it a once over before looking among the sea of kids outside. 
The echoes of laughter and talking rang in your ears, Kyoka smiled as a blonde male waved to to her excitedly amongst the small group of people he stood with: a spiky red hair boy, whose teeth were sharps like a sharks, a oil slick of black hair on a taller male of the group, a female whose skin was bubblegum pink with matching curly pink locks of hair and finally standing next to the yellow haired male was another blonde
Time seemed to stand still, the leaves stopped in time, freezing in mid air. A breath caught in your throat as a set of deep cherry red orbs locked to your brilliantly warm (e/c). It was like a rush of emotions had hit you in the chest like a baseball that had been hit in a homerun. You looked on as kyoka left your side to join the small group. It was like the world was white and the only thing you saw was the blonde male. The feathers in your wings ruffled out trying to cool yourself down from this new found heat, that wasn't the sun. Soon the unknowing staring contest was cut short.
“(L/N) are you ready to get your day started?” Power loader asked, waving a hand in front of your face, snapping you from your gaze. “Um, Y-yeah” you stumbled your words and tried to look again for the male. But he was nowhere to be seen in the flood of kids entering the school. 
Who was that male? Why are his eyes so beautiful? Maybe you will see him again. Kyoka did run to his group. NO no distractions!!
19 notes · View notes