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#me when people ask me to take them seriously
yappersblog · 3 days
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no one knows — paige bueckers [blurb]
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synopsis. paige and you aren’t together, but you’re definitely something.
trigger warnings. nothing, except maybe non-exclusive relationship (?) and little tiny bit of possessiveness.
author’s note. second time posting on tumblr 😋😋😋 and it’s kinda lame & not proof read so sorry people 🙏🏽 my requests are open sooo don’t be shy and request!
more fics. my emily engstler one. go take a look 💋
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everyone knows—your teammates know, your friends definitely know, your families know, your coach knows—hell, even your rival teams know too.
everybody knows that something is going on between you and paige, something that gets bigger and bigger everyday and that you should stop ignoring if you don’t want things to go wrong.
but, being your stubborn and dumb selves, the two of you don’t take your relatives’ advices seriously—apparently finding comfort in denial and in your instable relationship.
you’re not taken, but everyone in the university knows better than ask you on a date; all of them knowing perfectly well that paige might become their worst nightmare if they do.
same for paige—even if people didn’t really know how to approach her before, due to her being her intimidating self. they retract themselves even more now that you’re always attached to her hip, and the basketball player doesn’t help them either: the girl immediately playing with her chain—where your initials are written in gold—when someone starts to flirt with her, waiting for the stranger to understand that whatever they’re trying to do is pointless.
but despite all of this possessiveness, care and love that you feel for each other, none of you tried to make this a real relationship—one whose exclusive, and not only to the people but to you two.
the both of you are in love; it’s literally written on your foreheads and necklaces.
however, neither of you are brave enough to man-up and confess your feelings. so, for now, the two of you are stuck in this situation-ship, with unspoken feelings.
“yoooo! what up?” kk loudly screams while entering your dorm room, the rest of the team trailing behind her.
nika, aliyaah and inês make their way to you—the three of them hugging you—while the rest of the group goes to your fitted kitchen to put their snacks down.
“girl boo, don’t tell me you’ve been rotting on this couch since this morning…” kk literally exposes you, making ice chuckles and azzi slaps the back of her neck.
“kk, i know something else whose been rotting for more than a morning…” you say, munching on a cheeto that’s coming from aliyaah’s bag. “your braids!” the whole group bursts with laughter, kk side-eyeing you before laughing it off—taking a seat next to you.
that’s when paige finally decides to make an appearance, her arms free of bags full of snacks. laying against the softness of your couch, you don’t even hide yourself and check out the girl in front of you—your eyes moving from her grey nike tracksuit and her fitted shirt that shows off her biceps, to the glasses on the bridge of her nose and her slick back ponytail.
God, she’s so fine, you think to yourself—paige watching you intently with that smirk that makes you want to give her everything. she knows what’s going through your mind and you don’t even mind this fact.
“yo, get out of my seat kk” the blonde says, her hands deep in her tracksuit’s pockets.
“your seat? girl boo, since when?” kk says back, the sassy little girl coming out of her. you can’t help but chuckle, making paige’s blue eyes look in your direction.
“since forever, move!” trying to stand her ground, kk stays five more minutes next to you until paige decides to take matter into her own hands and pushes the girl on the floor carpet. “how you doing, ma?” the blonde’s arm makes its way around your shoulders, while it’s owner looks at you dead in your eyes and takes place on your right.
“doing good, you?” she doesn’t even respond, only nodding her head and licking her lips the next second—her blue pupils already trailing on her lips. you roll your eyes, popping a cheeto into her mid-opened mouth.
paige laughs, her arm tightening around your shoulders, and munches on the chip.
she smells clean, like a mix between fresh shower and sweet cologne. your favorite scent. actually, everything about her happens to be your favorite thing.
she looks like she’s about to say something, but kk—who has taken place on the floor carpet since she lost her spot on the couch—screaming to her phone screen, with ice on her right and aubrey on her left, stops her.
“oh god, always on live bro” the blonde mutters, glaring at the camera and detaching herself from you—making you frown.
popping another chip in your mouth, you side-eye her, not really understanding what her problem is.
oh so that’s how it is? okay.
your heart stings, but when invasive thoughts are starting to take hold of your mind—you feel a head on your chest and big ass biceps around your waist. your eyes look down, and you can’t help but grin when you see paige comfortably laying on your body—her right cheek pressed up against your breast.
immediately, your hand is playing with her blonde locks—all your attention focused on the girl in front of you and not on the recording live of kk.
“what’s up with y’all gay asses? come say hi to the people!” you hear the light-skinned player says, her head turned in your direction.
“hi people!” you don’t have any other choice but to greet the fans when the screen is being shoved in your face.
comments are flooding, and you try to read some of them, even if you already know that practically all of them are about paige.
“say hi!” paige groans against you, hiding her face even more into the crook of your neck. “okay, grumpy ass” kk laughs and takes back her phone. “what’s up with you?” you whisper-ask her once you’re ‘alone’.
“nothing” she grumbles and you know that whatever-it-is: it’s not nothing. you two keep up the eye contact for a few minutes, before she finally gives in and mutters against your collarbone: “i just don’t feel like sharing you right now, even though i don’t have the choice”
your brain doesn’t know to function for like two minutes before it works again and tells your blood to rush to your cheeks.
paige smirks a little, mushing even more herself into you, then presses a sneaky kiss on your neck.
she loudly hums against your skin, her nose sniffing it—snatching a frown and a giggle out of you.
“the fuck are you doing?” you laugh and she can’t help but laugh too—in love with your big ass smile.
“smellin’ you” the blonde does it again, but way more exaggerated than the first time, tickling you on purpose. “you smell good baby” she stops her little game once she feels you pinching her hip.
you thank her by smooching her cheek, feeling one of her dimples on your lips.
she retakes her place on your body, humming loudly. her arms tighten around you, and it feels like she’s trying to sneak herself into your body because she snuggles her face even more into your collarbone.
but you don’t mind, so that’s okay.
“their guns’ hot pink, that’s for sure” kk tells the live, fake side-eyeing the both of you while the rest of team cackle loudly—each of them knowing perfectly that they are hot pink as hell.
the two of you just exposed yourselves in front of an unknown number of fans, and none of you care—even though your faces might be trending on twitter tomorrow, people asking what kind of relationship you two are sharing.
and the most funny, is that even if you want to: neither you or paige can answer that question—and you don’t really care actually, the both of you just happy to be snuggled up together on this old couch, labelled or not.
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written by © yappersblog, i do not accept plagiarism—this is my work and only mine.
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guksfairy · 2 days
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I’m Tired Anyways
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Jungkook x bubbly OC
playlist • original scene •
WC: 2K
In which Jungkook shows you he genuinely cares about you in his own way
💗: HEAVENLY inspired by that one scene in ‘When I Fly Towards You’! If you want to see the original scene I based this fic off of I linked it above and it starts at minute 19:32 💗 !
note: I wrote this fairly quick so please excuse mistakes 🥲
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You wish you could stare at her with a genuine smile but how could you? There she was standing with your Jungkook! Maybe not yours yet but eventually your Jungkook!
You watched as they stood in front of a stand looking at all the souvenirs displayed on the table along with a variety of other objects.
“Are you aware you’re pouting like a kid who was just told no?” You stare back at your best friend of 4 years and let out a breathy sigh.
“Sua, do you think they’re still close?”
“Considering this is their first time seeing one another after 2 years…no,” you begin to smile, “but who says people can’t reconnect,” and it goes away in an instant.
“You’re not helping,” you say fully turning and staring at the variety of sunglasses on the rack in front of you.
“You know I’m only joking! You can’t seriously be this upset because Jungkook and a girl from his old school are catching up,”
You walked out of your English exam tired as fuck. You looked at the other students walking out along with you and every single one looked tired. Your exam group had to get up at 6 AM for your test which would be from 7 AM to 10 AM.
Not all 3 hours were used but if you wanted a good mark than you better use them. As you walked down the ramp to the exit you catch a glimpse of Jungkook walking back and forth clearly waiting for you at the exit.
“Jungkook!” you run to him with a completely different emotion from the prior. His group was slightly luckier with their test only being 2 and a half hours long.
“I thought your test ended a half hour ago. Were you waiting for me?” you liked to tease him. He wasn’t big on emotions but even a smile would do for you.
“Oh- uh I just came out now,” you can tell he was bluffing but let it go realizing your other three friends weren’t with him.
“Have Sua, Jimin, and Minhyuk not finished their tests?” you question as you watch his eyes trail to the left and stared at the three crouching on the floor.
“She’s so in love with him she doesn’t even notice us,” you hear Minhyuk say as you smile shyly at Jungkook as he lets a barely audible laugh.
The three walk towards you and Jungkook.
“Well I need some food in my system. Should we look up places to eat here?” Jimin’s already taking his phone out before you can all agree but all your attention is quickly taken when you hear a voice call Jungkook’s name.
“Jungkook! Is that you? I thought I recognized you!” it was an older man walking towards your group with a girl who looked your age.
“Mr. Fukutomi,” Jungkook turns and greets the elder with a handshake. He wore a green badge signifying he was a teacher.
“It’s been a while since I last saw you! You remember my granddaughter, Tsuki,” she waves at your entire group and you try your best to keep a smile.
He remembers her?
“I’m assuming you came here to take your annual science exam? How was it?”
“I did and it was fine. I enjoy science a lot,” he speaks as the four of you just watch and listen to their interaction.
“Well it’s almost lunch time. Have you all eaten?” he asks and stares at us all.
“We were just on our way sir,” you hear Minhyuk behind you. You could hear the desperation in his voice for this conversation to end so he could finally grab some food.
“You should let Tsuki show you around town and then have lunch together afterward. She practically grew up here,” the elder suggests making a hand movement towards Tsuki who just smiled.
Again. You hear Minhyuk let a quiet sigh at the thought of doing something before eating.
“Oh we wouldn’t want to bothe-” ”Nonsense! I’m sure you two would like to catch up too!” he cuts off Jungkook before wishing you all a great day and walking away.
You all wave goodbye to him and watch Tsuki walk closer to you guys.
“I know this great sight seeing area but we need to walk a bit far for it,” she says.
“You think we can grab some snacks or something first,” Jimin asks.
“Of course. We can stop at the souvenir shop around the corner. They sell tons of snacks from around the world,” she explains.
“Lead the way,” Jimin replies as she lets out a small laugh and you all begin walking.
You walk shoulder to shoulder with Jungkook before realizing Tsuki was on his other side and they were laughing and conversating so you walk slower to be with Sua who was behind you.
“What’s wrong?” she notices your head slightly down as you wrap your arm around hers. You don’t even realize when Jungkook took notice of you leaving his side as he stared back at you.
You looked upset which worried him. Maybe he’ll ask you when you guys arrive at the shop.
“Tsuki’s pretty,”
“So are you, Y/N,” she replies.
“Tsuki seems smart,”
“So are you, Y/N. Stop sulking before I tell Tsuki to leave. Besides you know how head over heels Jungkook is for you,”
No. You don’t. Often times your friend group would tease you and Jungkook and would always say how in love he was with you but you never fully saw it.
Sure he’s defended you multiple times, has come to your rescue on multiple occasions, and always walks you home but maybe that was just him being nice.
He’d have to do much more for you to feel fully confident in his feelings towards you.
“Stop it. You would never,” you say leaning your head on her shoulder following the pace of the group.
“Tsuki!” you hear her call out and immediately panic resulting in you giving her a minor hit on her arm before staring at Tsuki and smiling at her. You end up making eye contact with Jungkook who also turned around.
“Nothing! Are we almost there?” Sua ask.
“We’re here!” she says pointing the bright shop filled with a variety of snacks.
Jimin and Minhyuk run inside grabbing snacks they know your group would enjoy leaving you, Sua, Jungkook, and Tsuki outside to stare at all the keychains, bracelets, and postcards.
Tsuki drags Jungkook over to a table opposite of you and Sua before she begins picking out random items.
“Got them! Let’s go” Jimin and Minhyuk walk out of the store with 1 bag filled to the brim of snacks for the 6 of you.
Tsuki begins to lead the group once more to a different destination in mind.
This time she led you to a steep hill. Not too steep but steep enough. You felt your legs giving out just from looking at it.
“I told you guys it was a bit of a walk but I promise the sights on the way up are so worth it!” she says with desperation in her voice hoping you all wouldn’t mind.
When you got ready this morning you weren’t exactly dressing for a hike.
Tsuki smiles and begins walking up and was followed by Jungkook and wherever Jungkook goes so do Jimin and Minhyuk.
“Let’s go,” Sua says walking a slower pace then the rest yet you still felt the burn after some time.
“Up ahead is a famous landmark if you guys want to go even further. You can see further out and it’s pretty during the day. Besides it’s a weekday and not many people are around if you guys are up for it,” Tsuki told the group.
You had all been walking for about 20 minutes and had finally reached an area with a bench and a sight.
“Is it the same one that people post all over their Instagram accounts to seem adventurous? Because if so, I am in,” Jimin’s eyes light up
“Yeah I mean we’re already here,” Minhyuk says with energy received after eating a bar of chocolate.
The group begins to move again before you interrupt.
“You guys go ahead! I’m going to rest here and wait for you guys. My shoes are making it slightly uncomfortable to walk,” you voice gets audibly quieter as you speak.
You look at Jungkook whose eyes don’t leave yours for a second watching you lift your leg off the ground just slightly to ease the tension in it.
“I’ll stay with you if you want,” Sua says staring at you.
“It’s fine, really, go enjoy the view,” you say looking back at the group and realizing his eyes haven’t left your face at all.
His expression read worried before his attention was pulled by Tsuki, “Jungkook, let’s go?” she begins walking away and Jungkook stares at you one last time before following suit.
You watch as the rest of the group continues walking uphill and sit on the bench staring out.
It had been about half an hour since the group left and you were growing bored.
As you take out your phone a hand reaches in front of your face holding a carton of strawberry milk with a straw poked in.
Jungkook always does it for you.
“You didn’t go with the rest of the group?” you say smiling up at him and take the strawberry milk from his hands.
“I saw a stand of drinks when we were walking and you said strawberry milk always makes you feel better,” you listen to him as you take a sip of the sweet drink and watch him sit next to you.
“Besides, I’m tired anyways,” he looks back up to where the group originally left from before speaking once more, “…they’re probably going to take a while. Do you want to explore?” he says looking at you.
“Explore?” you stare at him as he smiles at you and begins grabbing your bag and placing it over his shoulder and allowing you to get up before walking a bit further down.
“Tsuki failed to mention there’s a cable car that takes you directly to the land mark,” Jungkook says leading you to the cable car waiting for passengers.
“Oh my god if Sua found out about this she would be so annoyed! She was also starting to get irritated with all the walking,” you say taking another sip of your drink.
He’s staring at you like you hung the stars and leads you to the cable car before the two of you sit and watch the trees pass by as the machine gets higher and higher.
“You’re not afraid?” he says looking over at you and you shake your head.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of when I’m with you,” you say with the biggest smile and he stares away before you can watch his face flush
From there you completely forgot about your friends, Tsuki, and time.
Jungkook led you to other areas he thought you’d like. He bought you both ice cream and even bought you a small plushie to put on your bag because you said it reminded you of him. Eventually you two ended up on the beach collecting shells and staring at the sunset. Afterwards you decided to enjoy the view from the pier.
You watched him staring out at the birds flying above the waters and promised yourself you wouldn’t give up. Even if it took you years for him to reciprocate his feelings you would not be giving up.
When he turned to stare at you it caused you to immediately fluster and face the sea pretending you weren’t staring.
He was the one watching you this time. He was thinking about the carnival that’s coming to your city soon. He was thinking about the fireworks they would be releasing at 10 PM sharp. He was thinking about how you would react to him asking you out.
Would you turn him down? Jungkook was well aware your feelings for him were serious but he was never sure how to make it obvious he too had them.
Would you say yes and kiss him like you had in his dreams?
He would just have to wait and hope for it all to workout.
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WIBTA for not telling my partner about the other people I'm with when I plan to break up with him soon?
I (19) and my partner (18) have been together for a few years. We are polyamorous, to be clear. His only thing is that he wanted me to let him know & let him meet any new partners of mine. However, for the past year and a half or so, he's barely been around. I'm lucky if I get to talk to him for maybe an hour per month. So in the past 4-ish months since I have had other people ask me out, I haven't gotten to tell him much more than letting him meet 1 of them and telling him there was others I wanted him to meet. And even there, I'm not entirely sure he got the memo that these were my *partners* and not just people I was close to.
However, I know this relationship isn't going to last longer. From the beginning, my friends, other partners (not the same as the ones I am currently with, although my other current partners also hate him) , and family + therapist have said my relationship is not healthy or even abusive and want me to leave him. But I never had the strength to walk away. I loved, and still love him, too much. He's made it clear that if I left, he would be completely alone, and feel isolated. That's not something I want to do to him. On top of that, although he hasn't done it in several years now, at the beginning of our relationship he would regularly tell me how finding me saved him from suicide, how he would be gone without having found me. Treated me like I was his reason for surviving. I know he didn't mean that in a bad way, but it still stuck with me, and a part of me worries for what will happen if I leave. Plus, he knows everything about me. I don't believe he would, but I know if he wanted to he could easily make my life hell, and that makes it terrifying to try to walk away from him.
So I'm not sure when we actually will break up. Just that we will. He's talked about breaking up himself before, but when I suggested we just get it over with since clearly neither of us where happy in this relationship, he said it "wasn't time yet". So I'm just kind of waiting for the other shoe to drop.
Which makes me worry I'll be the asshole and cheating on him if I avoid telling him about my other relationships because I know ours is going to end. It feels heavy to tell him, between knowing we aren't going to keep being together, and the fact that he never reacts well to my other partners. Despite insisting he's okay with my polyamory and my relationships when I ask, he seems to almost always act aggressively when he meets my other partners. He acts rude towards them, and very possessive about me, often even siting how he was "here first". That's not something I want to put my partners through, especially not for someone I know is going to break up with me. Plus, a part of me feels guilty. Even though it's not going against boundaries, and I do really love all the people I'm with and do everything I can to make sure they all know that and feel loved and respected by me, it feels like I'm doing something wrong by being with so many people at once. It makes me feel ashamed to face my partner and go "hey so I'm with all these people too now! They all asked me out within the past 4-5 ish months yeah!" and like I'll have to find a way to justify it otherwise it'll look like I don't take our relationship seriously and am cheating.
WIBTA?
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railingsofsorrow · 10 hours
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we'll be alright
[spencer reid x reader]
summary: the one where it's the team's night out after a few long weeks of work and you're finally relaxing... not really. because you have a secret that's brewing your insides out.
pairing: s.reid x f!reader
w.c: 2.4K
warnings/content: mentions of pregnancy symptoms; sleep deprivation; alcohol; jj being a good friend; discussion about choices; fearing one's reaction; yk spencer reid the best (only) man on earth.
A/N: I planned this to be a small drabble... anyways, enjoy this blurb while I finish up a few requests.
navi
masterpost
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“what are you doing?”
“chill, jj. I'm not drinking.”
you roll your eyes at the blonde casting you a suspicious look when she walks over. you don't know why she did it, to be honest. everyone seemed to be having fun over at the table, you just felt too uncomfortable and had to take a breath of fresh air outside. when you came back, you sat down by the counter, the bartender placed a red drink in front of you claiming it was from a guy across the bar. you didn't look, you didn't care. you push it aside with an eye roll and stick to the glass of soda you had previously ordered.
“are you okay?” her sympathetic voice is too much for you to bear right now, so you inhale sharply, actually thinking about downing that whole red drink in a go but you're one hundred percent sure certain jj would knock it off before it reaches your mouth. “sorry. I won't ask.”
“i'm just... confused.” you shrug, playing with the hem of the glass, tongue traveling over your lips. they are pretty dry, you can't remember the last time you drank water. “you don't have to keep an eye on me, jj. seriously, I'll be back in a second. I'm just... thinking.”
“have you told him?”
“no.”
her brows pull together. and before she can offer you her unwanted advice, you cut her off.
“don't tell me he has the right to know or anything like that. I know, okay? I know what I have to do, I know what I need to do. but I have a right to process everything on my own as well and I'm doing just fine doing that. for now.” you don't mean to snap, acknowledging the fact that jj means well, but you're tired of hearing obvious things about the situation and none of them did anything to help easing your nerves.
seems like people cared more about spencer's opinion on the matter rather than your own, when it is, in fact, a matter that you are carrying.
“i was gonna say take your time. you don't need to have it all figured out right this second.” you glance up at her, doubtful. jj gives your shoulder a squeeze and casts you a reassuring smile that almost sends you to jump in her arms to be coddled. “you're not on your own. I know it can be overwhelming, trust me, but you can talk to me anytime you want, okay? when you're ready.”
you smile for what felt like the first time in the night. relief swallowing down a bit of the nervousness rumbling through your chest.
“thanks, jayge,” you say.
jj gives you a wink. she leaves you alone after that and you enjoy a few minutes on your own when a familiar and welcoming touch trails down your back.
“you're quiet.” spencer eyes something above your head with hard eyes and his gaze immediately melts when it falls upon you.
“marking territory, doctor reid?” you tease, noticing the jealousy by his tells. his tries at being inconspicuous are foolish, but you like it.
he flushes red, clearing his throat and mumbling I don't know what you're talking about under his breath.
you hum, resting your chin against your palm as you look up at him. “i'm always quiet.”
“not like that.” spencer points out, tilting his head as his lips stretch into a soft smile. his gaze says I know you. you can't fool me. and he's 100% right, you can't. “is everything okay?” he questions, fingers grazing your upper arm in a way that it almost causes you close your eyes and give in to sleep right there. the truth is that you haven't been sleeping for three whole days. tossing and turning and feeding the nightmare in your head that all would go to shit. your relationship, you mean. the most solid thing you have going on for you, you'd screw that up. personally, you're a fan of facing the problem right away so you could get rid of it quickly. but this is neither a problem — not for you — nor you could fix it.
“i have something to tell you.” you swallow with difficulty. “but I- I don't know how.”
“okay.” he caresses your arm, brows knitting together in slight concern. “do you want to go home? is that okay for you?”
you sigh, hand traveling cross your face. “i don't want you to stop having fun because—”
“i wasn't having fun.” spencer is quick to cut you off albeit gently like he always is. “i was basically begging for you to call it a night so we could leave.”
a surprise laugh escapes out of you. you believe that.
“okay.” you nod, convinced. and a little less anxious to be honest. it's not like you'd say what you want to say in the middle of a crowded bar filled with drunk people. “yeah, we can, we can go home.”
“great.” he kisses your temple and waits for you to accompany him to your friend's table so you can bid your goodbyes. the first indication that something is off was your withdraw nature throughout the entire day. not that you weren't doing your job perfectly fine, you were. but your mind seemed to be elsewhere from the moment you stepped into the FBI headquarters to this very moment now. the second indication was when you said you'd get a drink and never came back. he found you by the bar with, in deed, a drink before you. then, he knew he had to say something.
“where are your keys?” spencer asks, adjusting the leather strap on his shoulder as you stride out of the pub. you lift the car keys between your fingers and he outreaches a hand towards it to which your eyebrows pull together in confusion. “you drank, didn't you?”
your face smoothes out in understanding, “no.” he regards you with uncertainty. “i didn't,” you repeat with an eyeroll. “i can't. I ordered that one but I didn't touch it. if you wanna drive though, be my guest.” he takes the keys in the first chance and you just chuckle softly, walking to the opposite side and entering the car. when you finally adjust yourself in the seat, you let out a long breath in relief. your feet are killing you as well as your head. not to mention the dizziness coming back and forth.
you don't open you eyes when something presses against your torso, you know it's spencer buckling up your seatbelt that you had forgotten.
“what did you mean by you can't drink?” the peaceful silence is broken by spencer's gentle tone. he'd look over at you every few minutes, trying to point out if the cause for your pale cheeks is the faint light of the car or something else. your eyes are shut but he knows you are not sleeping by the constant shifting in your seat.
“what?” you stumble on an answer and that's the best you are able to come up with.
“you said I can't.”
“you're correcting my misspellings now?”
spencer's eyes widen slightly. when the traffic light turns red, he quickly turns to you ready to apologise. but he sees your smirk and backs down, letting out a sigh.
“no,” he says, rolling his eyes. there is still something unsettling about your behavior, he can't point out what. sometimes it just happened, that feeling. he knew something was off without a single glance your way. the red light turned green before he can carry on speaking.
he does it anyway, though his eyes are stuck to the avenue and not on you as he plans to.
“are you okay?”
silence. and then,
“why do you ask?” your voice is soft, almost uncertain. you are hesitant and holding back. something is definitely wrong.
“you're withdrawal. you look tired and you didn't sleep well last night. I'm fairly sure you're a bit pale since this morning.” you're groaning beside him and spencer frowns. you finally arrive at your apartment and he takes a while to park before he turns the engine off. “are you sick? do you have the flu? migraines? cause we could have gone straight home tonight, you know that right? do you have a fev—”
“stop, spencer.” you mumble before his hands reach your forehead to check your temperature. you hate that he notices so much so fast. even though he's quiet about it, spencer is always paying attention. always. “it's not— I'm not sick. don't worry.”
“i'm still worrying.” he replies matter-of-fact, earning a scowl from you. he isn't phased. “should we go to the hospital?”
you huff like a five year old. “i just told you I'm not sick.”
“and I don't believe you.”
somehow, you wish he noticed more so you didn't had to say the truth out loud.
“i'm not sick.” your tone was sharp though you avoid it, it was just how it came out. you were sick of that subject.
spencer frowns. he stops himself before he could ask if you were sure of that statement.
“but I might get sick.” you utter under your breath, unsure about saying it out loud but you already did it. spencer turns to you after he takes off his shoes, a pet peeve of yours is that you hate dirty shoes around the apartment. there's always a few pairs of flipflops by the doorstep in case you have visitors. or they can just walk around in their socks, you had no problem with that, which is what spencer did. “... once in a while.”
“what is going on?” spencer approaches you slowly, his concern starting to create a thousand of theories inside his head. “really, I'm worried—”
“i'm pregnant.” you let out and release the breath you've been holding for what felt like hours. there. it's done. when you open your eyes, you don't look at him but walk straight in the direction of your room. spencer is hot on your heels. you just wanted to shower.
“what— you're— what do you mean?” his frantic voice almost makes you laugh if you weren't so tired with a headache brewing.
“i really need to take a long shower, spencer.”
“I—” he blinks, studying you for a moment before he swallows all of his questions and he sees. he sees what's going on and why your behaviour has been off these days. spencer's very observant, but sometimes he can let one or two hints wander off his radar. “okay.” he wants to hold you but he stays in his spot. if you want space, that's what he will give you. “do you need me to prepare you a bath?” he prays you say yes but you shake your head, entering the bathroom and shutting the door.
he lowers himself down on the edge of bed and stares at nothing as his thoughts swirls around the signs being thrown at his face the whole week. the morning sickness. not being able to stand the smell of any perfume. a sudden dizziness... fuck. how could he have been so clueless?
spencer admits he's always beeng good at physics and chemistry and statistics and he's constantly praised for picking up certain behaviours in his line of work, but he sucks at social cues and most of the times he misses the joke in a room or your sarcasm — though he's infinitely better at detecting that.
he takes pride in knowing you. your little quirks such as the way you press your lips together when you're uncomfortable or when you pick at your cuticles when something is on your mind during a case. he doesn't know how he didn't notice that. really, you spent most of your time together, both at work and outside of work. hell, spencer knows your period cycle. he makes sure to fill his pantry with your favourites sweet and sour snacks for that time of the month. it truly makes no sense how be could be so oblivious.
he knocks twice on the bedroom door, apprehensive and extremely careful. he's afraid by your latest reaction that you don't want him around.
it's actually the opposite.
“come in.” you're finishing getting dressed for the night. one of his old Caltech shirts slipping through your frame as he walks in slowly. you raise a brow in his direction, eyeing his figure standing by the doorway.
“i made you some peppermint tea. it's good for, hm, nausea.”
letting out a sigh at his hesitation, you lift a hand, silently asking him to come closer. “i'm not mad at you.” you clarify, breathing into his neck as he gently pulls you into his arms. “i was frustrated and tired and sore and sleepy. 'm sorry I was rude.” then, you chuckle awkwardly. “and sorry I dropped that bomb on you without a notice.”
he squeezes you, running a hand through your back. “don't be sorry. I understand.”
“are you mad?”
he pulls back a little, stunned that you even asked that. “what? why would I be mad?”
you shrug, meddling with the collar of his work attire he still hasn't taken off. “we didn't plan it. it's not ideal.”
spencer shakes his head, lifting your chin slightly to meet his gaze. “i don't care. I'm here for whatever you decide to do. there's no such thing as ideal.”
your mouth quirks up in the corners and you brush a honey brown curl behind his ear, fingertips trailing down his jaw.
“what?” he nudges your nose with his.
“i love you.” his grin is contagious and you can't help the laugh that bubbles out of you. you love him so much.
“and i love you.” you let out a shriek as he pulled you up in his arms, your feet being suspended from the ground. “hey,” he cups your cheeks lovingly. “we'll figure it out. together. alright?”
you nod, warmth flooding through your chest as you close your eyes and lean into his touch. “yeah, yeah, we will.” you mumble in the croak of your boyfriend's neck. “I love you.” you repeat just because you felt like it.
spencer mutters the same three words softly into the crown of your head. and you know everything will be alright.
━━━━━━━━━━━━━
taglist: @lilyviolets ; @whore-for-spencer-reid ; @yeonalie ; @ninkieminjaj
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stxneflxwers · 7 hours
Text
overemotional.
cw. for drinking & inebriation, also nudity (but nothing explicit). literally just drunk, overemotional alhaitham. probably deeply OOC. but god. let me dream. lowercase.
inspired by dialogue prompts!
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alhaitham - a man that seldom gets drunk - somehow got roped into drinking a little too much with friends tonight. you know he hangs out with his three other long-time friends on occasion, but he always prefers to be home in the end - next to you.
but...
tonight was exceedingly strange once he dragged an also drunk kaveh into his designated room. you're certain kaveh was already passed out by the time the two of them came home. not that it was too unusual for kaveh to get drunk on a rather regular basis.
the strange part is alhaitham's behavior - it felt like he was avoiding you, even after you started stalking him around the house. you haven't seen him drunk before, so this is an entirely new experience.
you followed him into your shared bedroom, and then you heard - what was it? - sniffling coming from him as he shrugged his cape off onto the floor. and then he collapsed onto the plush bed and tore his boots off. you could now clearly see he was tearing up.
"babe..." you mutter, now hesitant to approach him, "are you...okay? what's wrong?" you ask wearily.
he fails to respond as he begins shedding himself of all of his clothes - every last one. you gasp and cover your eyes to preserve a smidge of his modesty and dignity. even if you have seen him naked in the past - it feels wrong to see him in such a drunken state, let alone naked at the same time.
"why are you taking everything off?!" you squeal in surprise.
"because it's hot." he slurs, "and i'm hot."
you giggle. yes, yes you are, you think. you definitely need to be keeping that thought to yourself for now.
"a-at least put your underwear back on, you dork...!" you bemoan.
he sighs and does so, "there." he sniffles some more, and when you unveil your eyes, you see him curled up in a half-nude ball on the bed.
"okay..." you sigh, walking up to him with cautious, silent steps, "seriously. what's wrong?" you brush your fingers along the bone of his broad shoulder.
"you..."
"me...?"
"you're too beautiful for me." he sobs a little before yanking you down into his arms, leaving you in an awkward position against him.
he really is hot - in more ways than one. he's almost sweating.
"i—" you sputter, unsure of how to respond momentarily, "th-thanks, babe... i think you're beautiful too—" he cries more and squeezes you a little too tightly, "oh, oh no, don't cry!" you grab his face and kiss away every tear that trickles.
"you are...beautiful-er." he slurs sleepily.
"pfff—" you resist breaking out into laughter, you've never heard him sound so inelegant with his words - the scribe, of all people. "no, you. i promise."
"no... you." he protests before throwing you around in his arms to the other side of the bed, causing you to unceremoniously flop next to him.
"okay, okay, you win." you roll your eyes, but your voice is filled with nothing short of adoration, "now... i think it's bedtime for a certain someone—"
and just like that - he's out like a light.
he's such a silly boy, but he's at least your silly boy.
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glitter-soda · 3 days
Text
I’d like to break down my current feelings and gripes about the trans movement, both to inform my followers and maybe start a discussion.
The vast majority of trans people are relatively normal and are just trying to live their lives in peace.
Trans women are trans women. They are male, and by definition it is much more accurate to call them men than women, but I do believe they are something of a separate category. The same goes for trans men, in reverse.
Definitions like “a woman is anyone who identifies as a woman” and “a lesbian is a non-man who’s attracted to non-men” are ridiculous and frankly offensive. The word lesbian is taken. It means “female homosexual”. Literally nobody is stopping you from making your own term, so stop trying to forcibly redefine ours.
Male socialization and female socialization both exist and are important. Trans women were socialized male and trans men were socialized female.
The sheer amount of vitriol towards “terfs” and anyone else who questions anything is just…disgusting. It’s acceptable to send them graphic rape and death threats, doxx them, assault them at protests, and celebrate when they get sick or die. I don’t know how to explain that that’s not normal fucking behavior, especially since “terf” is thrown around very casually these days.
Biological women should be allowed to have spaces that don’t include any males, regardless of the purpose. Lesbian bars, female only gyms, female only domestic violence/rape shelters, and literally anything else are fine and should be allowed to exist without being vandalized or threatened with shutdowns.
The former point includes female only sports teams. Males are biologically very different from females and it should’ve be offensive to anyone to say so. Both sexes have advantages and disadvantages over the other, it just happens that many sports are designed in a way that makes it easier for males to succeed.
Abolishing female only categories in award ceremonies, scholarships, and the like in the name of inclusivity is stupid and completely forgets the reason they were established in the first place. Male bias exists and women will almost never be included because of it.
I’m not against transitioning because I believe in total bodily autonomy and find language like “mutilation” to be incredibly gross and callous. However, I think it’s bad and dangerous to be presented as the literal only treatment for dysphoria.
Children who express any form of questioning or gender nonconformity should not be immediately assumed to be trans. A little girl saying “I want to be a boy” may mean “I want the freedoms that boys have and this is the only way I know how to express it because I’m six”. For actual trans kids, puberty blockers are dangerous and minors should only be allowed to socially transition.
The entire idea of being non-binary is frankly silly to me. I believe it to mostly be a poor coping mechanism for sexist stereotypes. Again, do what you want, but don’t expect me to take you seriously.
The way a lot of information and discussions that don’t support the current trans narrative are censored or lied about online is really bad and honestly borderline cult-like. Very few people actually know what radfems believe because people are discouraged from reading anything straight from the source. The Cass Review was picked apart in bad faith and many of the articles that “sum it up” are just straight up full of false information. Detransitioners are swept under the rug and told to shut up and stop trying to ruin things when they try to talk about their experiences. The trans community needs to do better.
And most importantly:
I do not want trans people dead. I believe in my heart of hearts that the vast majority of actual radfems and gender criticals do not want trans people dead. Neither ideology is hateful or inherently against trans people.
(Y’all just hate being told “no”.)
(Also I probably forgot something, so feel free to ask or discuss idk)
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sylenth-l · 14 hours
Note
hello! hunter age anon back once moe with another question!!! (sorry ig yhis gets annoying!!!)
i want to ask about Cayde's dynamic with andal!!! like, how to portray their relationship and maybe cayde's general psyche when it comes to people and forming bonds.
Not at all, I love getting questions about my guys!! (I'm just bad at answering them aksdjhflks OTL)
It's… complicated, I'm never sure how to describe characters' relationships with words. I know it sounds incredibly cheesy, but to me Andal and Cayde are two halves of a whole, one feels incomplete without the other. Even if we're talking about them being just friends, they're the type who always show up everywhere together and if for some reason they aren't, they'll be texting each other non-stop still. "We're two halves of a whole idiot" - that's literally them.
You could say that they knew and understood each other perfectly, but I feel like while it's true in general everyday scenarios, on a grander scale Andal always had an upper hand in that. He knew Cayde like the back of his hand, he trusted him and believed in him far more than Cayde ever thought of himself. Cayde however wasn't exactly that sharp when it came to serious things about which Andal avoided speaking head-on - like, Cayde couldn't understand why Andal takes his Vanguard duty so seriously. It was only after he spent years as the Hunter Vanguard himself that he started to get what Andal must've felt. I don't think it's Cayde's fault or something though - Andal most likely barely ever talked about that, and he himself didn't exactly need people talking about their feelings to understand them.
I think it's safe to say, judging by how everyone speak of him and the leadership positions he seemingly effortlessly always ended up in, that Andal just gets people, he understands them extremely well and can find a common language with just about anyone. He was the one who made "significant progress in faction accords". What kind of person you must be to make faction leaders come to an agreement, at that time especially??? Convincing, sharp and charming sounds like an understatement alksdhfkjaks
So, I think it was that quality that helped Andal almost immediately see right through all of Cayde's clowney facades. And his own kindness and honesty pretty much left Cayde totally disarmed. Andal got to know him - the real him - and loved him, thought of him as his best friend. And made damn sure Cayde was aware of that as well. That's actually so, so incredibly important - because with the way Cayde is, he constantly thinks that deep down people surrounding him either dislike him or are disappointed in him. No matter how much time they spend together, it's not something he himself will just get one day because "well it's OBVIOUS" or something. His relationship with Ikora and Zavala are probably the most striking example of that. Ikora says he was one of her closest friends - Cayde says he's not sure if Ikora even likes him. The City is flooded with Cabal, lightless Guardians scattered all over the system, humanity is in shambles - and Cayde is genuinely surprised Zavala is looking for him and needs him. He leaves messages for both of them in case they kill him, making it sound like he wouldn't be surprised at all if they did. That… really shows the abysmal gap of misunderstanding between them, to put it lightly.
But Andal! Cayde never once doubted Andal and Andal's feelings for him. The good old days he speaks so fondly of is the time when he ran around the Solar system with Andal and their pack. Even if he sometimes laments that Andal is too serious and bad with jokes, that seriousness and honesty is actually just another proof that if Andal says so, then he really does like him and is impressed by whatever Cayde wanted to impress him with this time. 
I think it's probably one of, if not the most important part of what made Andal so incredibly special to Cayde - that freedom of being able to be equally honest with him, be real. Goofing off because he simply wants to goof off - not because he prefers to give people lower standards so that they won't be disappointed in him when he fails. Sharing his muddy concerns and fears that he barely even can put into words, knowing it won't be laughed at or brushed off as unimportant. Absolutely everything got better instantly if they were in it together. The mere presence of one of them in close proximity immediately cheered the other up.
I don't know, I can talk about them for hours and still not say what I wanted to say. I always miss the most important stuff somehow, no matter how many words I pour in. Honestly, I think that to better understand what was happening between them, all you have to do is to (re)read "The Man They Call Cayde" - literally half of it is basically Cayde's love letter to Andal.
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kevin
kevin was a familiar sort of man for annie, as a therapist. he was a well-off businessman, powerful in his own kingdom, good at navigating life with a hot and crazy wife, and who had a hard time making sense of his teenage daughter.
she liked talking to him. he was a good talker, funny, and more than willing to share lots of explicit details. he told her about realizing early in his marriage he had to make time to really pound the shit out of his wife in bed every morning to keep her in a good mood all day. he told her he'd learned that his wife would always ask for him to cum inside her, but in reality she preferred it when he came all over her, making a mess of her that she had to take some time to clean up. annie could tell that kevin clocked the way annie was shifting in her seat as he told her this -- she was wet and he knew it. but he didn't comment on it. he told her he and his wife rarely had sex at night when their daughter was young, but how he'd learned to notice when she'd trimmed her pubic hair down to almost nothing it was a signal she wanted to make time to have an evening fuck, too.
"is your wife a naked around the house kind of woman?"
"yes," he said, smiling. "i wouldn't have it any other way. of course, now my daughter is that way too."
"really?" annie said. "she doesn't cover herself up around you?"
"no," he said. "i see everything."
"that's a sign of trust," annie said. "trust and confidence."
"it's funny though," he said. "you know, when my wife is all trimmed up that's a good sign. but i like it when the opposite is true with sienna."
"you like when she's not shaved because that means she's not having sex with anyone?"
he laughed. "yeah. is that awful? patriarchal and awful?"
"no," annie said. "i mean, most girls sort of like a sense of possessiveness."
"even from their fathers?"
"especially," annie said. "but also, it doesn't mean she's having sex for sure."
"what else would it be for?" he asked.
"just being horny," she said. "you know, we tend to focus on that part of ourselves when we're using it a lot. even just by ourselves."
"do women do that a lot?" he asked. "i mean, seriously. i know my wife does it but she never admits to it."
"that's funny," annie said. "i always thought that was a stereotype."
"women who don't admit to masturbating?"
"yeah," annie said. "i have always been upfront with my partners about it."
"i'm sure men like that," he said.
"especially when you tell them you jerked off before a date so you wouldn't immediately jump their bones," she said.
kevin grinned. "you're way more fun than the average therapist," he said. "and prettier." he coughed nervously. "sorry."
"it's fine," annie said. "i mean, i don't mind being told i'm pretty."
"how often do women jerk off then?" he asked.
"i do it every day," annie said. "sometimes a few times. i did it this morning in bed, and i have an hour before my next session, and i will probably do it again."
"in here?" he said.
"on that couch," annie grinned.
"you have touched yourself on this couch?"
"i've had sex on that couch," she said.
he patted the couch appreciatively. "nice."
annie laughed.
"people talk about sex in here a lot," he observed.
"yes," she said.
"how often do you get turned on during sessions?"
annie laughed. "pretty often."
"that's not only exciting but just kind of... it feels like proof that you're listening."
"i'm glad you see it that way," annie said.
as they wound down their session, kevin said, "i guess you want to get me out of here so you can... you know."
"do a little DJing?" annie joked.
he laughed. "yes," he said. "i mean, i'd gladly stick around..."
"you can," she said.
"really?" he said, surprised that his joking-but-not-joking cover had actually worked.
"sure," annie said. "we're off the clock. you want to watch me touch myself?"
"very much," he said.
annie decided to be fairly reserved -- she took off her skirt but left on her panties, which were here fairly standard white cotton bikini briefs, and sat in her chair and reached in and started touching herself. kevin stared.
"do you like to be watched?" he asked.
"yes," she moaned.
"will you take off your panties for me?" he asked.
"okay," she said. she slipped them off and tossed them toward her desk. he looked at her bald pussy and grinned. "perfect," he said.
annie was working herself up pretty rapidly. "i'm gonna cum," she told him.
"good girl," he said.
annie yelped as she climaxed. she convulsed a little in her chair and then collapsed and licked her fingers.
"will you think of me differently now?" she asked him.
he thought about it. "no," he said. "as soon as i met you, i pictured you doing that kind of thing. and worse."
"like what?" she asked, smiling.
"like taking my cock up your ass."
annie grinned. "straight up my ass huh? not even gonna lick a girl's pussy first?"
"nope," he said, "right up your ass whether you like it or not."
annie held her tongue. she was going to ask for it, but thought she might better enjoy the road where she didn't give permission.
"you should get out of my office before you do something you regret," she said.
she got up and walked toward her desk to get her underwear. he followed her, and bent her over the desk. annie gasped as she hit the wood.
"shut the fuck up," he told her, pulling out his cock and pushing it into her.
she wasn't ready of course. she liked that she wasn't ready. it fucking hurt. he pounded her ass for 30 exquisitely brutal seconds, cumming somewhere in the middle of it. then he pulled out and pulled his cock away. annie never even saw it. she fell to the floor. he left her office immediately.
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assistant-of-drama · 12 hours
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What if Owen angrily called out Alejandro?
"Owen," Chris chimed. "It's time to go pal."
"What?" Owen gasped, turning to the rest of the contestants.
Most of them don't bother looking at Owen, either out of shame or apathy.
Except for Alejandro, who was squinting and smiling cruelly at Owen.
"But I don't understand." Owen said. "I thought I was getting along great with everyone. Why would you guys vote me off? What did I do wrong?"
"Do the reasons honestly matter?" Alejandro asked smugly. "Just accept your defeat with dignity like Noah did, mi amigo."
"Yeah, the reasons actually do matter, Al." Owen said, with surprising firmness. "I would get it, if I had gotten voted off for eating something I'm not supposed, like back at Germany with the sausage. But I managed to control myself from eating the cake! I didn't do anything wrong this time! So, I think I deserve to know why I'm being eliminated!"
Sierra couldn't take the guilt anymore and awkwardly raised her hand. "Uhh, Alejandro said that he would bless my marriage with Cody, if I voted for you... I'm sorry, Owen."
"Yeah, the guy told me to vote for you too." Duncan said, while pointing at the charming man.
"Me three." said Courtney calmly.
Owen's jaw dropped. "Wait a minute... Al... You... You want to get rid of me?... But I thought we were friends..."
"Yeah, I had to make you think that, so you'd listen to me." Alejandro scoffed and then chuckled. "I mean, did you really think that I would EVER want to be friends with someone as childish as you?"
"I can't believe you just said that!" Owen gasped again in disbelief. "But you said I was your amigo... You mean, every terrible thing that you did to me, was done on purpose?... The glares, hitting me with a baby carriage, leaving me to get eaten by caterpillars..."
"Don't forget when he hypnotized you into giving yourself a wedgie and dance a jig." Duncan pointed out with a small smirk.
"Oh my god! I thought I dreamt that! You seriously did that, Al?!" Owen yelled with a glare. "What the hell is wrong with you?!?"
Alejandro blinked at the larger and softer man's surprising fierceness, but the charming yet cruel man keeps his cool. "Well, that's what you get for being childish and incompetent... My only regret was not getting you eliminated sooner... Even Noah and Tyler would've been much more useful to me than you."
Heather gazes at Alejandro in pure shock. "Wow, that's cold even by my standards."
Owen's glare hardens. "You know Al, when Noah first told me about your true colors, I didn't want to believe him at first. Not even when he pointed out all the messed-up stuff you did to people, including me. I kept telling myself that those things you did were accidents or that you were misunderstood, like how Noah, Izzy and Eva often are. But boy, was I wrong! Heather was right about you all along! Behind that charming face you're nothing but a mean, nasty, selfish, heartless, cheap con artist! And you're also a big, fat, dumb-"
Everyone's eyes widened to the size of dinner plates at what Owen said next. Alejandro's jaw goes slack as his left eye twitches a bit. The only ones who weren't in shock were an amused Chris and Chef as well as a strangely proud looking Heather.
"-in all of Kalamazoo!" Owen finished with ragged breathes. "Wow, I feel better already! No wonder other people curse!"
Owen grabs his parachute and looks back at the others with a calm, accepting smile. "Bye, guys."
The contestants awkwardly said their goodbyes, still trying to get over their shock at Owen's previous rage.
Then the big guy looks straight at a certain girl with a bright grin. "Bye Heather, kick Al's butt for me!"
"Trust me Owen, I will." Heather responded with a bold smirk.
"Oh, and Al?" Owen called for Alejandro's attention. "One last thing..."
Owen had a suringly evil smile on his lips, as he says his next words. "See you later, Alligator!~"
Owen jumps through the open plane door with a loud cackle, already long gone before the slippery Charmer could do anything.
Owen's cackles were quickly replaced by the laughter of Heather, Duncan, Cody, Sierra and Blaineley.
Even Courtney was trying to hide her own smile.
"Oh, the audience is gonna love that!" Blaineley piped up.
All Alejandro could do was wait until he could angrily curse at the confessional camera, again.
Noah is going to be so proud of Owen.
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mintytealfox · 10 hours
Note
Well now I'm curious, if it's ok to ask, what does Orpheus handwriting say about him?
Hehehehehehe~
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His signature makes me SQUINT its like perfectly unassuming, mid, regular, plain, perfectly done, there is very little to glean honestly, when first looking at it lol WHICH IS SO ON BRAND FOR WHAT HE WANTS WHAT THE HECK
But here is what I am seeing at the moment~
1-The loops in the letters. They are SO TIGHT! Bro is tense as frick and closed off BIG TIME. Its giving the vibe that he even does the loops quick leaving NO time for those loops to be open lol SHUT TIGHT
2-He has got a pretty intense right slant happening there which means he has no self control or very little self control. In this situation it feels like a threat, like on the outside he seems like he has control but when you really think about it 'no he doesn't' he is patient, he is wilding and doing everything he can: drugging these people and memeing on them and plotting against them and AGH he is actively doing what he wants and loves playing the long game ah
3-Now for the slope, or rather the complete lack of lol. So when it comes to sloping, it is situational (like with Norton's upward slope he was feeling optimistic when signing at the time). When it comes to a complete lack of slope it means 'they are balanced' aka he isn't feeling pessimistic or optimistic about this, this is just all his plans coming together how he wants them. ITs another day at the office ooof
4-The spacing of his letters, they seem so perfectly placed. This meaning that he is organized and can see things in perspective ah he is he so scary oh my goshhhhh
5- When it comes to the entire signature it seems like he writes carefully and taking his time except for those loops, the vibe is that he moves quick to make those. So all that smushed together makes me think that he likes the long game, likes his plans slow and steady and organized, but deliberate and quick when needed, like in that 'h' and 'e'.
I feel like there is more here, but I haven't spotted them yet, like his signature is seriously so purposely uneventful to behold LOL which makes me think there IS MORE LOL but this will do for now~ -squints at the signature-
sheesh even studying his signature makes me feel like I am going insane LOL
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striderl · 20 hours
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Hello! I hope the exams are going well!
I just got some questions (not sure if they’re already answered but god save me-)
I know a human can become a cameraman but can they be converted into a speaker or tvman? Asking for a friend (Coaxial)
Also I know you have been asked this question half to death with various characters but what do you think would happen if Coaxial and Spencer met the Filming industry? (I know Coaxial would be excited as frick)
That’s all that I can remember (I was procrastinating on asking this so I’ve forgotten some of the questions I wanted to ask plus this ask is already pretty long anyway)
Have a nice day/night!
Technically, I suppose there’s a low chance that a human is suitable to convert into a speakerman or TV man. Believe it or not, human bodies are more fragile than it seems.
The speakermen are known to be able to emit high-frequency sound waves, as well as the ability to use sound blasts, which in turn generate high air pressure, these features are extremely lethal to human organs. According to research, exposure to 170-200 decibels can be life-threatening like burst lungs and ruptured eardrums, and exposure to 240 decibels is instant death. If you need real-life examples, 150 decibels is equivalent to gunshots, while 200 decibels is equivalent to standing near a rocket when it takes off or a volcanic eruption. On the other hand, constant exposure to vibration caused by the speaker itself can be life-threatening, since it can potentially alter the neural pathways and muscles in the human body, which there’s some studies claim that motorcyclists tend to have shorter life expectancy due to the constant vibration of the engine.
The TV men, which is another level of danger when it comes to humans. There are no studies that are able to claim that the radiation from the cathode ray tube (CRT) is capable of causing instant damage or death. But just think about it, if you expose your organic body to radiation 24/7 for years, it could potentially cause mutation in your DNA which may lead to cancer. Furthermore, constant exposure to radiation can also cause changes in neural pathways.
As for meeting the Film Industry … ok, first of all (INTENSE INHALATION) yes, I’ve been getting tons of asks from people to let their OCs meet them. But seriously, WHAT IN THE NINE REALMS ARE YOU MEETING THEM FOR? If you want to get acquainted with them sure thing, if you want an autograph you could just ask, if you want to discuss scientific matters they’re welcome, if you want a quick death or get grossed out Foley is glad to oblige. Just two words – BE SPECIFIC.
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kindlespark · 1 day
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who is your favorite rat grinder + do you have any additional headcanons and/or theories and/or what-ifs and/or feelings about them that have been On Your Mind, bc I'm so here for it
SINCE I JUST ANSWERED THE FIRST QUESTION i will focus on the second! basically i don't buy that they're not friends or that they love each other any less than the bad kids tbh!!
like brennan could yet prove me wrong but when they read kipperlilly's file he says that she talks about how much she loves her adventuring party. all of them, not just lucy! and people take ruben's voting against her too seriously imo when like the bad kids do stuff for the bit all the time. they were just teasing fabian about his younger siblings and cheering on gertie to kick his ass! half of them are obsessed with mary ann and half of them can't stand her like! they're teens being teens!
and i have a bigger theory that i have been unable to stop thinking about but i'm gonna save that for ur second ask heheh
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philosophiums · 1 day
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hooooo boy i haven't posted a fic here in a long time but @hinamie's itafushi art fully possessed me so please take this offering as my first ever jjk fic
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Night has set in like a bruise – a dark sky framed and mottled by light pollution, a memory of violence hidden behind a veneer of something almost pretty. There’s evidence of life in the distant city, but nothing close by. Megumi can hear a soft thrum of traffic and the occasional shout or laugh, but the immediate vicinity hosts only crickets and the restlessness of his companion.
Itadori is pacing at the bottom of the staircase Megumi is sitting on, and Megumi watches him closely out of the corner of his eye. It’s nothing new for Itadori to hype himself up before a fight, so Megumi isn’t worried, exactly, but there’s something abnormal in the fierceness of his movements, the rolling of his shoulders, the way his head tilts like he’s trying and failing to have a conversation in his head. 
He doesn’t want to mention it. Conversations with Itadori are often marred by the reality of what the finish line looks like – they can’t both make it out alive. They both know it. Itadori likes to pretend he hasn’t grasped the reality of the situation, but Megumi understands the depth of the haunting he carries around when he thinks no one is looking. Which means that when Megumi asks after him, inquires into his wellbeing, Itadori brushes it off with a smile and a laugh. And his smile is as brilliant as the sun, so of course Megumi has to look away to protect himself.
Somewhere in the nearby bushes, several of his rabbit shikigami are maintaining a perimeter around the area, allowing him to relax while still doing everything he can to stay on high alert. Shibuya shouldn’t have turned into such a mess, and maybe it wouldn’t have if more people had been suspicious to the point of paranoia. It’s too late to fix that, too late to take away Itadori’s scars, too late to take back the suicide pact he himself signed, but he can at least look ahead to whatever future awaits them. He can do his best to keep them safe. 
“Fushiguro.” 
Oh no. Nothing good ever comes from Itadori’s serious voice. 
Please. 
If I die, you’ll kill me, right?
He blinks and finds himself looking at a stationary Itadori, hands in his pockets and eyes on the building behind Megumi. “What is it?”
“Are there really curses in there? I thought they couldn’t step foot in a church.” Itadori looks genuine when he asks, and it wouldn’t be the first foolish question out of his mouth, but the tone he used to call Megumi’s name just… doesn’t match with the question. Seriousness followed by off-handed curiosity isn’t exactly Itadori’s style. This isn’t what he had wanted to say, but something made him pivot into an unplanned conversation. 
Maybe Megumi has been paying too close attention to him. Maybe Megumi should know better. It’s all doomed anyway – a heat death guaranteed to happen. There’s no point in devoting so much time trying to learn someone’s intricacies when they’re inevitably going to leave, by force or otherwise. He should save himself the heartache. He should have learned his lesson the first time Itadori died.
His arms shake with the phantom weight of Itadori’s body in his arms, limp and lifeless and bloody with that stupid soft smile still on his face even in death with a hole in his chest. His parting words still circle in Megumi’s head sometimes.
Part of him wishes that Itadori had cursed him in the end. Maybe it would have been easier.
“You’re thinking of vampires,” Megumi says. “Or demons. Curses can go anywhere.”
Itadori makes a sound like he’s not really sure he believes Megumi, which is insane because Megumi is not the one who watches movies with vampires and demons in them. At least, he hadn’t before Itadori walked into his life and demanded movie nights at the school and midnight viewings at the theater.
“A church, though?” Itadori continues, insisting. “Aren’t these supposed to be, like, full of positive energy?” He tilts his head up and to the side, and the closest streetlight reflects across his face, highlighting his jaw, catching in his eyes until they glow damn near gold.
Megumi has to look away. His chest hurts if he stares too long at everything he can’t have.
“Just because something is comforting doesn’t mean it can’t be a curse.” As soon as the words leave Megumi’s mouth, he knows he shouldn’t have said them. Even in his peripheral, almost entirely out of his view, he can see Itadori look at him with his expression opening into surprise or something worse.
Fuck. He really can’t allow himself to be so obvious, especially when they’re hours away from stepping through the barrier around the first Tokyo colony and into the Culling Game. They’re about to put their lives on the line again. Now isn’t the time to lose his composure.
Before he can catch himself, his hand is in his pocket, digging out the pack he keeps for what he considers emergencies. There’s a cigarette between his fingers in a matter of seconds, and his lighter is in his other hand a moment later.
Itadori swipes it before he can light up, and Megumi is left with wide eyes and a cigarette dangling limply between his lips as he looks up at the boy suddenly standing over him. He forgets, sometimes, just how fast Itadori is. 
“Since when do you smoke?” Itadori asks, all childish curiosity, not an ounce of judgement in his tone. And yet, the stolen lighter feels like judgement – a withholding of something, well… harmful, sure, but it’s not like Megumi isn’t aware that every inhale of nicotine is an inch closer to his death. What does losing a minute or an hour or a day matter when he’s probably not going to reach the age of thirty, anyway?
“Since middle school,” Megumi replies, reaching out to attempt to quickly reclaim his lighter, but all Itadori has to do is lean his torso to the side and it’s out of reach. “Can I have that back, please?” 
“Why?” Itadori hasn’t had such a soft look on his face since they dragged themselves kicking and screaming out of the warzone Shibuya turned into.
“Because there’s a cigarette in my mouth and it would be a waste not to smoke it.”
Itadori makes a face, a petulant little pout just this side of sticking his tongue out. It’s cute, and Megumi has to close his eyes for a moment. “I meant why did you start smoking in middle school?”
The sigh that leaves Megumi’s lungs is heavier than he wants it to be. He’s not… good with emotions, and he’s even worse at expressing them. It wasn’t a problem when he was all alone, with the second-years distant due to their classes, and Gojo either a nuisance better avoided or thousands of kilometers away taking care of a curse too powerful for anyone else to handle. But then Itadori, fresh off the loss of his grandfather, sacrificed himself for not only his friends but for Megumi as well. And he has refused to leave, no matter how hard Megumi tried at first to put up his barriers and protect himself.
Because the truth is that Megumi was helpless from the moment Itadori jumped through a window and crash landed on a curse. He is the very definition of someone with an unshakeable character. The fact that they’re here, now, on the backside of a slaughter, newly scarred and traumatized, and Itadori can still smile at him in a way that softens his eyes proves beyond any doubt that he is who he is and that won’t change. And it guts Megumi from the inside out because everyone who has ever touched his life has become poisoned by him.
He takes the cigarette out of his mouth and holds it between his knuckles. “I don’t know. I wanted…” This time when he sighs, it’s softer, and he moves his gaze away out of embarrassment more than anything else. Itadori and Kugisaki already made fun of him for how he acted in middle school, and he doesn’t want to go through it again. “I wanted people to be afraid of me – teachers, students, upperclassmen, underclassmen, it didn’t matter. I wanted to look and be as aggressive as possible so they didn’t mess with me or Tsumiki.”
Itadori snorts, and less than a second later he’s laughing with his head tilted back and his eyes closed. For the moment, he’s unguarded, and Megumi uses the opportunity to stare. In the low amber light, he looks impossibly young, soft around the edges where his scars and personal losses have hardened him. The pink of his hair dims into the gentlest of dawns, and the happy tears that pearl in the corners of his eyes are more stunning than the thin veil of starlight overhead. In a world overflowing with curses, Megumi has never believed in angels, and yet it’s the only word he can conjure that comes even close to describing the boy in front of him. 
Megumi knows he’s in love; how could he not be?
“That’s just like you,” Itadori says, breathless, and Megumi suddenly feels like he’s falling even though Itadori is the one suddenly dropping to sit on the stairs beside him.
Itadori is a morning person, even though he’s slow to wake up. He won’t drink coffee unless it’s iced. He never tucks in his shirt tags. When he’s upset, he throws himself into social situations to hide behind other people’s laughter. He carries snacks in his pockets and will offer them to everyone. These are all details that Megumi has collected about Itadori, stashing them away like a crow with shiny objects, hoarding them as the treasures that they are and that he can never truly have.
He had never once considered that Itadori has been observing him just as studiously in return.
Their knees bump, and Megumi knows he should pull away, but he can’t bring himself to. The night isn’t cold, but Itadori’s warmth is a comfort, anyway. Megumi hasn’t had many comforts in his life.
“Give me my lighter back,” he says instead of acknowledging anything else. His chest hurts. His heart is too loud in his ears. Itadori is right there, lips twisted by his scar, eyes flashing with the humor that’s still rolling through him, shaking his shoulders as he looks back at Megumi.
Instead of answering or acquiescing, Itadori leans forward until their shoulders press together, blocking out the ghost of a breeze flowing in from behind them, and rolls his thumb over the spark wheel until a flame catches. His hand and Megumi’s both come up at the same time to cup around the other side, protecting the small flame from the elements, and it’s tender and intimate when Megumi’s fingers brush against the curve of Itadori’s palm.
He pretends not to notice as he puts the cigarette back between his lips and ducks his head. The first drag to catch the paper and tobacco on fire takes a while, and he is so incredibly aware of how close Itadori is, of the protective shell they’ve made with their bodies as they keep this flame going between them. He can’t think about it, can’t acknowledge it, can’t –
As soon as he sees embers, he sits up and leans away, creating a small pocket of space for him to exhale into. But the flame stays lit, Itadori’s thumb still pressed into the fork to keep the gas flowing out. 
Megumi smacks his arm without looking at him directly. “You’re wasting the butane.”
Without protest this time, Itadori listens, and the flame dies with a soft click as the fork snaps back into place.
The stillness of the night around them settles again, crickets becoming the dominating sound over the gentle rattling of leaves and the far distant honking of a car horn. The tobacco sizzles as the fire slowly eats through it every time Megumi takes a drag.
Itadori’s unwavering gaze on him feels like a physical weight. There’s a tender smile there, Megumi just knows it, but god damn it he won’t look. This can’t be a this. There’s nothing here but a road that dead ends on a bottomless cliff. No one has forever, despite claiming that they will, but he and Itadori don’t even have years. They could die tomorrow, the moment they step through that barrier. Fuck, the curses in the church behind them could come out and catch them off guard right now, and no one would know where to look for their bodies.
So it doesn’t matter that Itadori sometimes looks at Megumi like he hung the moon. It doesn’t matter that Megumi understands the plight of Icarus when he sees Itadori smile. He is not going to create a situation that is doomed to end early. He is not going to push his feelings into the world just for the universe to stomp them into the dirt. He is not going to let himself muddy the lines on a friendship that is already too good to be true.
He takes a drag in that’s harsher and longer than the last, fast enough that his lips burn from the fire racing too fast through the cigarette towards the filter. He lets it hurt, tells himself he deserves it, and exhales the smoke slowly with his eyes closed.
For a moment, he just sits there, his arm draped across his knee, which is still pressed into Itadori’s knee, and tries to pretend that everything is fine. It’s normal. It’s just a crush. It’ll go away. He would rather die with longing in his heart than risk living long enough to experience a loss that will crush him.
When he brings his hand back up to take another drag, fingers on his wrist stop him in his tracks.
“Fushiguro.”
“Itadori?” He turns his head and opens his eyes in the same movement, wondering if there’s a problem, if all the actions he took to be obsessively vigilant were for naught, if somehow something got the drop on them. “What –”
The press of Itadori’s lips against his own shuts him up fast and leaves his mind spinning and his lungs devoid of air.
What?
Why…?
Itadori makes a noise at the back of his throat – soft, questioning, encouraging – and Megumi forgets every reason he has ever had on why this is a bad idea.
He kisses back.
It’s not a desperate kiss. There isn’t a sudden light switch that flips on and turns them into feral horny teenagers crawling all over each other, desperate to touch in as many places as possible as fast as they can. Three points of contact is all they started with and all they still have. Their knees, digging into each other in a way that almost hurts, but the warmth is so strong that it doesn’t matter. Itadori’s fingertips oh, so gently resting against Megumi’s wrist, not even touching skin. And the tentative slide of their lips as Megumi tilts his head and Itadori seems to crack a smile.
Itadori’s lips are chapped, and Megumi can feel the texture of scar tissue as they blindly search for an angle that feels better than the others. It probably wasn’t meant to be a long kiss when Itadori first leaned in, but Megumi can’t bring himself to pull away even though there’s absolutely nothing physically holding him here. The instinct to jerk back with his hackles up is there, just under his skin, but every exhale of Itadori’s sounds like a blissed-out sigh as it shivers across Megumi’s cheeks, and he finds himself more and more willing to just have this.
Itadori is the one to break the kiss, but he doesn’t go far, resting his forehead against Megumi’s and just breathing into his space. Megumi feels like he just ran five kilometers; it’s impossible to suck enough oxygen into his lungs to stop feeling lightheaded. His cigarette is still between his fingers, slowly burning itself down to the filter, but Megumi has completely forgotten about it. 
“What was that for?” Megumi whispers, eyes flicking back and forth looking for clues in the depths of Itadori’s eyes. It’s an accusation, yes. They could have kept pretending. The pain at the end of this is going to be unimaginable. But it’s also a desperate plea. 
Don’t pretend it didn’t happen. Don’t apologize. Don’t say you didn’t mean to.
“I don’t know,” Itadori admits, and that crooked smile is back, perching on his mouth in a way that tempts Megumi to kiss it away. “Good luck? Felt like the right time.”
Megumi drops the cigarette by his foot and moves his hand to Itadori’s face, cupping his cheek and the curve of his jaw. He can feel himself shaking with adrenaline and the fear of an unknown dark path laid out in front of them. “You’re an idiot,” he says, but even he can hear the fondness in his voice. 
“Mhm, yeah, you’ve said that before.” Itadori’s hand covers Megumi’s, and the shaking subsides. “But you kissed me back, so what does that make you? Reckless?”
“Insane,” Megumi offers, just to hear Itadori laugh. He isn’t expecting the second kiss that follows, but he’s glad for it, anyway.
It’s funny, he thinks, even as he pushes a little closer and sighs into the shape of Itadori’s mouth, that regardless of the church behind him, regardless of the temples he has walked through time and again, regardless of the habits he hasn’t broken of prayers during the new year in exchange for fortune slips that hold no merit to him – despite religion flowing in and around his life, there is no higher power in the universe he believes in as much as he believes in Itadori. 
If anyone can defy fate, if anyone can push through to the other side of certain tragedy, it will be Itadori. 
Start by saving me, he had said, and this isn’t exactly what Megumi had meant. But his chest is warmer than if he had tipped back some sake, and he certainly feels like he could face down a special grade curse and win right now.
They’re not going to have forever. They may not even have twenty-four hours.
But they have tonight. They have right now.
“You better not die tomorrow,” Megumi warns, just barely breaking away enough to speak.
Dying alone is all but a guarantee for jujutsu sorcerers. One day, one of them is going to leave the other behind, and it’s going to rip the survivor to pieces and scar like a phantom limb. Even without a confession, their feelings have splattered like a hemorrhaging wound onto the staircase between them. No amount of backtracking, of lying, of pushing each other away could mop it up now – they’ve left a stain, and their hands are doomed to always have each other’s blood caked under their fingernails.  
“Would be a shitty good luck kiss if I did,” Itadori says before leaning back with a smile as broad as the sky.
Megumi pushes him away with the hand on his cheek, and Itadori’s laugh overtakes the crickets and the wind and the far-off traffic as he pulls himself back into Megumi’s orbit with their fingers tangled together.
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autisticlancemcclain · 3 months
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Could you explain your position on Shallura? Since Allura was established as a teenager when she started dating Lance and Shiro was very clearly an adult. I can understand the bi shiro headcannon but the shallura thing worries me
i am going to remind yall that i have been in this fandom since 2016. and in the early seasons, allura was not established as a teenager. in fact she was coded as older, as closer to shiro's age -- there was a specific divide between her and the younger paladins that she did not have with shiro. they made her younger (both explicitly and in mannerisms) as the show went on. and i do not give a fuck about voltron like...post s4 and i didn't even watch s7-8. so like. especially with older fics, im going to enjoy shallura.
#also this is less relevant and i was going to put it in the main post but i cant find the words for it#but i found your last sentence kind of condescending. “the shallura thing worries me” as if i am your little project and things arent going#to plan. as if you are the Knower Of All Things and i am straying from my path lol. twas odd#and this is a controversial thing to say i know it but like#we take fandom way too seriously. if someone decides in fic to make two characters the same age to ship them or whatever. do we really need#to get the torches and pitchforks. like i can understand discomfort when people ship like shiro and pidge or something but. also. i feel#like you can just block and move on?? like i dont ship sheith bc they are brothers. to me. but also i dont think sheithers should be#harassed or any dumb shit like that. i think its so so whatever like theyre Lines man theyre moving lines#at the same time i understand that peoples headcanons can be reflective of their worldviews (like when racism/transphobia/sexism shine#through someone's headcanons/characterization) but how much scrutiny is too much? when do we get to remember that fandom is a place to#work with the FICTIONAL? where you can change details without consequence? i saw a fic where keith was the older sibling and shiro was the#younger once. it was a good fic. how come we can play with ages but only when the Fandom Council approves?#i guess this is a really long and clumsy way to say like. you do not own the fandom nor do you get to dictate my work. and while there#is always room for necessary criticism please also think critically before you post your criticism#anyways#rant#ask
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shyhandart · 9 days
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wanted to show you my rainbowglider kid so far! just a WIP ☺️
Holy crap! Alternate universe siblings!!
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This is Caustic Phantom, but everyone they know calls them tommy :3
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thottybrucewayne · 3 months
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No, real question. How you a transmed and nonbinary?
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