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softquietsteadylove · 5 months

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Hello! ✨

Something for the Thenamesh 10 Things AU!

What about some drama with Arishem. He heard a stupid rumor that his daughter Thena had some dirty time with a "bad boy" at a gas station or a workshop. Arishem was storming out of the house when Thena an Sersi came home and he yelled at her and grabbed her, trying to drag her into the house. And then, of course, Gilgamesh shows up and makes it even worse, because Arishem thinks he's this, in the rumor mentioned, "bad boy".

🖤✨Hugs and Love✨🖤

"Thena!"

Thena and Sersi both jumped as their father's voice rattled the air around them. Sersi stood from where she and Thena were sitting on the front step together. "F-Father, what-"

"Silence," the monstrous man stepped closer to them, forcing Thena to her feet with the pressure of his presence. He loomed over them. "Thena, I have heard rumours of you."

"What rumours?" she asked outright. It wouldn't do her any good to play stupid with her father. "Whatever it is, I'm certain it's false."

"Is that so?" he queried, leaning over his eldest daughter more. "I was told you went looking for...transportation."

Thena bristled.

"It is my understanding that you have formed an associative attachment with someone," Arishem paused, "less than reputable."

"Please say who you mean, Father," Thena asked, which was as good as wagging her finger and sassing him.

"Gilgamesh," Arishem spat out the name with distaste. "A young delinquent who will be lucky to graduate school, let alone attend a secondary education befitting of this family."

"And what does that have to do with anything?"

"You know the rules," he spoke deeply and evenly, eyes bearing down on Thena with her head directed at her shoes. "You do not let the common animals bed you, especially not the likes of unlawfuls."

"Father!" Sersi spoke up in a surprising bout of rebellion. "I don't know what you're talking about but Thena-"

"Was seen with this young man several times," Arishem concluded for his second daughter. And favourite, if Thena needed any more proof than this very conversation. "Including, entering and exiting his vehicle."

"I did not realise asking for a ride was strictly forbidden," Thena spoke up for herself again, which she had never done as much of in the past. But she managed to drag her eyes up to glare at her father, "truly I must be the whore of Babylon, then."

Arishem's eyes flared, only making his dark, devilish appearance even worse. "Enough."

"Father!" Sersi gasped.

"Inside," he snarled, gripping Thena's arm and dragging her up the rest of the stairs and towards the door.

"Hey!"

All three heads turned as a figure walked up the sidewalk and towards the house. "I don't know what the hell's happening, but let go of her."

Arishem stared down the young man walking towards him so brazenly. "You."

"Me," Gil made a face at him. Arishem's height didn't bother him, nor the sheer size of his figure, wide shoulders and monstrous limbs. Gil shrugged at him, moving his jacket with his hands inside the pockets.

Arishem looked down at Thena, in his clutches like a bird being shoved into a cage, "truly? This is with whom you wish to associate?"

"Father, please!" Sersi pleaded, tugging at his other sleeve in an effort to help her sister.

"Father?" he an even more sneering face at him. He walked up a few steps towards them. "You're their asshole of a dad?"

Arishem's spine straightened, each vertebra locking into place so he could glare down at the boy. "You have the audacity to address me so improperly?"

His eyes dashed down to the hand around Thena's arm. "I have a problem with anyone who handles their own kid like this."

"Gil, don't-!" Thena bit her lip as her father pulled her upwards, forcing her to stretch up with the impossible angle of her arm within his frighteningly high grasp.

"Gilgamesh," Arishem addressed, still holding onto Thena like an escaped convict. "I will say this only once: whatever claim to my daughter you think you possess, put it from your mind."

"Put it from my mind?" he repeated back as if he hadn't heard it the first time at all. "The fuck is wrong with you?"

Arishem brought his shoulders forward. "You-"

"No, you!" Gil belted back at him, jabbing his finger up in his face despite the difference in their height. Gil didn't back down in the least in the face of the monster of a man. "You listen to me, fuck-face! I don't care if you're their dad, I don't care if you spoon feed them from gold plates every single day! You don't handle them like this!"

Gilgamesh reached forward, taking advantage of the surprise on Arishem's face and grasped Thena's hand in his. He pulled faintly, but Arishem's grip hadn't loosened any.

His eyes looked as black as coal. "Unhand her."

"Stop hurting her," Gil barked right back at him. "I don't know what happened here, and I don't give a shit. She doesn't deserve this."

"Gil."

He looked at her, grief stricken by the whimper in her voice.

"Enough!" Arishem bellowed, his voice once again seeming like it could rustle the leaves in the trees. He let go of Thena, who stumbled like a fawn into Gil's offered support. "It seems I was right to deem you a lost cause."

"Who the hell talks about their own kid like that?"

"You," Arishem turned his attention back to Gilgamesh, whose hold on Thena's shoulders tightened. "If I ever lay my eyes on you again, your life in this town will cease to exist. Do you understand?"

Gilgamesh didn't even blink, holding Thena against his chest, "I understand that you're a prick who's lucky his daughters didn't turn out to be psychos too."

Perhaps with nothing more he could do to exercise control over the situation, Arishem turned and walked back into the house. The door slammed closed and Sersi's somewhat panicked breathing became more audible.

"Hey," Gil said gently, tipping Thena's chin his way, "are you okay?"

Thena just blinked, somewhat stunned by the past minutes.

"Thena!" Sersi rushed over to her, practically in tears. "I-I-I can't believe Father would-!"

Gil moved aside as Sersi threw her arms around her sister. Thena would never call herself a 'hugger' by nature, but Sersi was always the more emotional of the two of them. She patted her sister's back, "I'm okay."

Her eyes met Gil's, who still had quite a snarly look on his face. "Are you?"

Thena blinked before nodding, "I am."

Gil shifted on his feet, nodding his head in the direction of the front door, "are you gonna be okay going in there?"

Thena had her reservations, but their Father, at the very least, never dwelt on them for long. "I have no concern with what his opinion is of me. But don't worry, he would never expend the effort it would take to hurt me."

Gil eyed her arm--the one that had been wrenched upward in her father's grasp. "You sure about that?"

Sersi pulled herself away from Thena to offer a positively furious expression, no matter how tearful. "I cannot believe Father would act this way. I'm going to tell him that I will never forgive him for this!"

Thena nearly laughed, watching Sersi stomp her way into the house to give 'daddy' a piece of her mind. She rubbed her hands over her arms, "if it comes from Sersi, he is more apt to listen."

"Hey."

Thena looked at him as he placed his hands over hers, letting her guide his hands over her arms as well. She immediately thought of the hoodie that was inside, sitting on her bed waiting for her.

"Are you really okay?" he whispered, as if her father were lying in wait, listening. He ducked his head closer to hers, "you don't have to go in there. My Uncle would have no problem with you staying with us. He has a guest room!--and my room in the basement is-"

Thena smiled, tapping just the tip of her finger to his lips. She had never had the privilege of seeing Gilgamesh ramble on and on. It was endearing. "I am not afraid of my father, Gil, nor will I be afraid of walking into my own home."

"But-" he tried to protest, but she sealed his lips shut again.

"It is a sweet offer," she conceded. She never would have anticipated it, and it was almost humorous to imagine Gil just...showing up with her, like some stray he wanted to keep. "And I appreciate it. But I promise I will be fine here."

He sighed, obviously not in favour of leaving her here to whatever her father had in store for her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she echoed back to him, just to see a smile on his face. It was small, but it was there. "I'll come find you tomorrow--prove my living status to you."

He chuckled, stepping back from her with a roll of his eyes, "okay Princess, whatever makes you feel better."

This was very literally for his benefit. But she didn't mind that so much, "very well. Tomorrow, then."

Gil took the steps backwards, staring at her as he made his way back across the street, "looking forward to it."

#Thenamesh 10 Things AU #the drama!!!#Gil is here to say unhand my princess!#Arishem: ???#Gil really looked at this utter monster of a man #seven feet tall dressed in a black three piece suit in the middle of the day #and said you go to hell sir unhand the girl who refuses to be my girlfriend!#and I love that for him #Sersi here watching like oh my god there's so much going on #but she does go inside and tell Arishem that he has gone too far #that she will never forgive him for handling her sister the way he did #Arishem says something about Thena's mother and Sersi says no I don't wanna hear it #you are dead to me father!!!#Arishem just thinks well teenagers what can you do #also Gil really did offer to let Thena come home with him #boy shows up with Thena like hey gramps this is that girl I'm talking about all the time #Karun here like well...welcome young madame I have a guest room

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im-smart-i-swear · 1 year

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self-indulgent fnin doodles cause existance is Not Fun right now:/

#my art #felix and nika bonding over having the worst organ in the human body(uterus)(i HATE that bitch)#sorry this is kinda dumb but. yeah..#REALISTICALLY i feel like net would be grossed out by a situation like this but i can draw what i want!!! heheheh #so hes cool and supportive. cause i think that would be neat #uhhhhh actually ive been thinkin about net recently..#okay so hear me out- transfem net.#like........ the casual misoginy and shit being a product of net's weird love-hate relationship with feminity???#they want and crave it but always saw being a girl as 'playing w/ barbie dolls' and 'not understanding technology' and they dont want THAT #but they want to be called pretty and wear a dress sometimes?#so he just kinda represses all those weird complicated feelings and tries his best to be manly and strong and #Not Like Those Stupid Girls who are beyond his comprehension #and then maybe felix comes out as a trans guy and net decides to do some research on trans ppl and #actually starts to realise they relate to these people??#and it takes a LOT of time and introspection but she figures it out. eventually.#and shes still Net! she still scoffs at romantic musicals and is terminally online and a teenage genius and a snarky bitch-#but she also doesnt have to prove her masculinity to anyone. she doesnt have to put girls down for being girls and she #starts to appriciate them as people and not prizes to be won by boys #i dont know if this makes any sense whatsoever but...... i like this idea! i like net realising casual sexism Is Not Funny Actually #i like nika helping her figure things out and try diffrent things and see feminity as something fun and exciting #like i dont think net would suddenly start wearing all pink or something! shes just. herself.#and that means watching horror movies and saving the world from an evil a.i. and movie nights at felixs and hating to admit when shes wrong #yeah. something to think about i guess.#fnin #felix net i nika #sorry this propably makes no sense lol

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reginaofdoctorwho · 1 year

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watching a show from the 80s/90s and SOOOO fucki ng mad this would be controversial now. this shit sucks we went backwards

#it's quantum leap btw #for anyone who doesn't know it it's about this guy named sam beckett who ''leaps'' through time into people's bodies and changes their life #and he HAS to change it to get to the next leap #like there's one where he becomes a wimpy teenage boy whose sister is engaged to an asshole #and his buddy al (who is w him holographically) tells him she ends up murdered by him or something #and she's already being abused but the show was like 'victims DO get stuck and think they have no choice but to stay'#and basically he gets the fiancé to almost kill him in front of her (and other witnesses) so that she gets the courage to break it off #and there's one where he becomes a beauty pageant contestant whose friend (another contestant) is tricked #by the pageant photographer into taking nude photos he would later sell and she'd leave home and go missing #this dude (as a like. 5'6" woman) dangles the guy out a fucking window and threatens to drop him until he gives them the film #he's also wearing makeup and dresses and heels during the episode and at one point hair extensions #and there IS a new series now and they JUST had an episode w their leaper (named ben song) leaping as a woman #and like he was wearing the dress and heels but no makeup! where's the stewardess required lipstick??#but also the new one is great and has a canon nonbinary character who is so fucking cool #but ALSO the original was like. actually popular and the new one is so fucking underknown #and the original had an episode about an interracial couple during race riots and was very on the side of acab #and had a line about how it didn't actually start that day #that it started with the refusals to hire because of race and when the first baby went hungry because of it and #the cops targeting people for their race and you fucking KNOW that people would be going fucking insane now about it

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machidielontheway · 1 year

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on a completely different subject, yes i'm absolutely procrastinating the post i'm talking about in my last ramblings, when i looked at myself in the elevator mirror earlier today it looked like i had flat/no boobs (i mean i have so little of them. but here in the reflection really flat flat) and i was in a cool hoodie where my hips weren't apparent and i thought ooooh i look COOL like that

i like my body fine, and in the end i never wore any of the binders i bought like... 13 years ago. fuck. (i still have them. who wants a free binder) because i did not vibe with them physically and it was a time of discovery and i was fine without them. and i do like when i have girl vibes aesthetically speaking. also i weirdly can't imagine changing my body for reasons unknown as of now.

BUT my idea of my ideal body is a average guy vibe with NO HIPS. like thin hips. and shoulders wider than the hips. sometimes i see young guys outside and i'm like i wish i looked like that because there's just a COOL vibe... alas i can't, bodily (also i'm too small for it too work like i imagine).

all of this to say i thought 'ah, there is still some things i can do aesthetically to be a little cool, at least to my taste'

#3615 my life #i didn't like the binders cause they were too big for the effect #so it felt uncomfortable like having three shirts on #sports bras feels much better in term of skin coverage #the one i have and wear for dance has a nice flattening effect #but is also a bit too small and makes me sweat so fast #my ideal aesthetic is Cool Teenage Boy which has now evolved into Cool Young Adult Man now that i'm older #once i met a friend for a movie and she told me 'oh when i saw you i had a little flutter like. you're really my style clothed like this'#and wow the validation. the joy.#all in black with dress shirt and jeans and leather boots and. i felt cool and she thought i looked cool #this is total rambling but i have a lot of feelings lately so there.

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chandravess · 1 year

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would you ever be romantically involved with a butch? i'm curious because youve expressed sexual interest in butches but everytime you post about romantic interest you center that on femmes so! just wanted to ask, hope you have a good day

my gf is a stem so absolutely! she is the butchiest person i’ve dated extensively but i am def romantically interested and i love my butch gf so so much 💕

#asks #gf posting #she wear boys undies and dresses like a teenage skater bot #boy not bot

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whencartoonsruletheworld · 9 months

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i see a post talking doom and gloom about how we'll never escape toxic masculinity. i think about back in 2017 when american girl released their first boy doll, and a review for him went viral in the collecting community. the review was written by a mom, who said they went into the store to get their daughter a doll, only to see their son's eyes light up like fire when he saw a doll that looked like him, and now every night he puts his doll in pajamas and rocks him to sleep. i think about the toddler in my daycare room a few years back who was obsessed with baby dolls, carrying them everywhere, and his mom proudly told us he uses his sisters' old baby dolls and wants to be just like them. that toddler saw another toddler crying one day and gave her the doll he had to cheer her up. i think about the eight-year-old boy i saw a few years back, excitedly waving around raya's sword in a target checkout line like all his dreams were coming true. there was a video on my instagram the other day of a little boy at disneyworld crying with joy upon meeting his hero, mulan. i think about the voice actor for bow in the she-ra reboot saying his nephews only wanted adora action figures. celebrity men are wearing dresses on tv now. last halloween i saw a little boy dressed as elsa. i went to go see spiderverse over the summer, and in the line ahead of me was a boy who couldn't be older than twelve or thirteen, bouncing and beaming, giddy with excitement over getting to see the female-led romance movie elemental. i think about the five-year-old boy at my library who breathlessly asked me where the pinkalicious books were, eyes widening when i had more on my cart, his mom explaining that he is all about pinkalicious and fancy nancy. i saw so many pictures online of boys and men dressed in pink to see barbie. teenage boys are gonna open their phones and see the man who wrote fucking game of thrones dressed in pink to see barbie. when i was a kid, a boy dressing in pink was practically a social death sentence. there are boys running around in pink on my street right now.

#mine

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notsogracefullyput · 5 months

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Thinking about when I said to my mom “I dress pretty butch” and she went “oh no you don’t,” mother that is the goal get your shit in order

Everytime you comment on your masculinity someone’s gotta come in with the “no you’re beautiful” baby I Know, that’s not the discussion

#she’s usually a pretty good ally so I was like what the fuck???#I have many times said I like to dress like a dad #a teenage boy #a dapper gentlemen #but this was the line?#yikes #gender queer #trans masc #butch

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neverendingford · 10 months

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#sexcapades #tag talk #ugh gender. I'm slowly narrowing in on it like a target that I have to fire far too many range-finding shots on #unfortunately I'm missing so many shots. each one gives me more information on the heading but it's still annoying work.#I like occasional she/her as a reminder that I'm not cis but I am absolutely not your fucking princess.#I say that because I literally woke up to a text that said “hope you slept well princess” which like. eyeachgh.#I hate good morning texts and I have just discovered I hate being called princess #gender goal is “girl who nobody even notices is a girl because she's one of the boys”#the one who everyone goes “but not you. you're like.. a guy”#ugh. I really do vibe with the “secret third gender” vibe. I made that joke forever ago about my gender being whatever those yaoi boys have #and I stand by it. neither a man nor woman but a secret third thing (he/they anime uke)#anyway. thank you dude last night for the science but I do not think I will be pursuing my studies with you any further.#I've never felt the need to change my pronouns because like. I'm a dude. I like she/her sometimes because it validates my gnc vibes #but like. fashionably she/her but functionally he/they. Idkkkkk I hate gender is annoying #being viewed as 100% woman feels definitely worse than being viewed as 100% man though. that's for damn sure.#gender is “guy who has a suspiciously large chest and narrow waist”#I got questions about spelling my name Robin not Robyn cause apparently Robin is typically the male spelling. and like. that feels right.#skirts feel weird. I'll die before I wear a dress. gender is “teenage girl who will punch you if you can her girly”#thanks for calling me she/her like I asked but unfortunately you have now misgendered me.#plus I don't think I'm kinky enough for him. at least not in the “punish the bad girl” way. which like. there's a gendered dynamic there.#idk. sex and gender are wild and results are still being determined #I envy people who know what they want when they're younger. not all of us are fortunate enough to have that 🙄

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undreaming-fanfiction · 2 months

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I love a good florist Steve, but what I love even more is a good but naturally bitchy florist Steve.

He'd have his own flower shop and years of dating experience behind his belt. He is not just a good boyfriend, he is THE good boyfriend. Going to his shop isn't just to buy a bouquet of flowers, oh no. It's a whole relationship coaching thing, he teaches husbands to do better, gives courage to teenagers asking their crushes out, gives advice regarding flower language to elderly ladies who just want to be slightly passive-aggressive...you know, the normal thing.

He has a catalogue with flower pictures to help people who have no idea what the flowers are called, they just know they were orange and didn't easily wilt.

He shows a local teenager the cheaper but still fancy options and throws in a bunch of free flowers that aren't really up to his standards. "Okay, you say she likes pink flowers. Does she like things to be a bit more decorated or does she prefer simplicity? You don't know? Okay, can you describe what she normally wears? No, I'm not being creepy, but you can sometimes tell the person's preferences from their clothes. Now answer or leave dateless."

He chats with the elderly ladies of Hawkins when they ask for a flower to gift to their fellow church ladies when they host their meetings. He cackles when he hears some of their orders. "Oh wow, Ethel, a yellow hyacinth? Would you like a gift card with that, something like sorry you're such a jealous hag? No? Of course I know the meaning, it's my job."

"Are you expeting her to say yes to the date with that atrocity on your face? Yes, I know it's a moustache. But it's also an atrocity. Shave it and thank me later. Now, would you like a ribbon for that bouquet?"

And most of all, he grills the unlucky conservative men in Hawkins who come to him for flowers for their wives without any idea what they like. "I see, so you want something pretty. What does your wife like? Flowers? Well, that's not specific. What kind of dresses does she wear? Expensive? Can you tell me anything about your wife's personality? ...nagging. No, I can't just mix something together, unlike you, I take pride in gift giving. Okay. I don't think this is a shop for you. Yes, that's what I'm saying, I won't play a part in your wife's disappointment. Oh sure, go take your money elsewhere, but I can give you this advice for free - you married a unique human being, so treat her like one. And if you really want a happy marriage - maybe come back when you learn something about her as a person. No need for that language, have a good day, sir."

For those that are more receptive, he goes through their partners' personalities and hobbies, suggesting date options and absolutely roasting the bad ones. "A football match. When your girlfriend hates sports. I don't care if it's your boys playing, you can try telling her that this is important to you and you'll take her out another time, but if you try to pass this as a date, you'll be single before you say "sorry". A date is for you as a pair, not for you only."

But the best thing his shop brings him is Eddie Munson, who sneaks in, absolutely ready to be roasted, and asks for a bouquet of bright colorful flowers for his best friend Chrissy. "She just got divorced from her asshole husband and I want to show her that she can have nice things. Platonically. But she deserves so much more. Uh...she really loves warm colors, so maybe yellows and oranges? What are they called...gerberas! She likes gerberas! And she likes things to be a bit messy and imperfect, so maybe some leaves there as well? A green ribbon would be nice."

And Steve just beams at him as he gets to work and says "Oh wow. Whoever your partner is, they are so lucky if you remember all of these things even for your friends. Makes a guy jealous."

Eddie just wiggles his eyebrows at Steve and mutters, "that position's sadly open. Has been for a while. Interested?" and he almost faints against the counter when Steve turns around.

Eddie is ready to run.

But Steve just fluffs his hair, reapplies his lipgloss and asks: "Where do I apply?"

#steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddie #steddie drabble #steddie au #florist steve harrington

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switchbackhyperloop · 3 months

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I fucking love the costumes on DS9. I feel like the designers were a bit hamstrung by the fact that MOST of the characters are in uniform most of the time, so they went HARD AF on the rest of it.

Ferengi fashion? All style, no substance. It's all about signaling wealth and opulence with no taste or restraint. They want to show off EVERYTHING ALL THE TIME and ebd up looking like tacky little boys who dressed in the dark.

Jake Sisko? Honestly, I didn't quite get what the costumers were going for at first. Wtf is he wearing? He looks ridiculous. BUT THEN I started working around a lot of teenagers, and I realized that teens across times, across galaxies, across civilizations, are always dressing in ways that confuse and enrage adults. Jake Sisko is peak Weird Teen Fashion.

Out Of Uniform Kira? She wants so much to be soft and pretty. So much of her life was spent in hardscrabble guerrilla warfare. My girl just wants to wear cardigans, goddamn.

Out of Uniform Ben Sisko? Ma'am, that's my Emotional Support Weird Jazz Uncle.

Garak? Every bitchy, middle-aged queer man I've ever met, but in SPAAAAAACE.

Out of Uniform Bashir? Peak dumb twink. TIS PEAK, MY LORD.

#star trek #deep space nine #ds9 #costuming

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arachine · 8 months

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something about non-traditional family dynamics with gojo just speaks to me…

includes :: co-parent!gojo, rich boy!gojo, mentions of pregnancy + leaky nips hehe

note :: this is just pure brainrot, started thinking about him in class today and i needed to get this out of my brain!

link to part two + link to part three

i’d like to think that after he knocks you up in college, the two of you take it upon yourselves to get married because, “‘it’s the right thing to do.’” and so, for a few years, you do the whole marriage thing—the family thing.

no longer were you the twenty-something-year-old who partied hard every weekend, and studied until the break of dawn every school night.

no, now you were the twenty-something-year-old who fixed bottles at odd hours in the night, whose nipples leaked through all her favorite tops, who had a husband that paid a mortgage and kissed her goodbye before he went off to work for the company passed down to him.

and after some time, things finally start to fall into place—your little family.

the baby gets bigger. you go through the terrible twos, of course, and the teenage-threes, but once she hits five, it’s suddenly pie in the sky—and god, it feels like you can finally start to see a light at the end of the tunnel.

so, you and gojo have one more. one more girl that’s precious, and smart, and quick-tongued, and every bit of her dad as she is you.

things are touch and go for awhile, but for the most part it’s...easy, smooth. that is, until married life starts to feel like a task, and your husband starts to feel like your roommate instead of your companion.

conversations becomes brief, the bed becomes colder, morning kisses are exchanged for nods of acknowledgement, and you can’t even remember the last time either of you desired each other…

one day though, the two of you come to a mutual decision to separate. you spend the night talking, and talking, and talking. you talk about things. memories—before and after. you even talk about your mis-comings, and if things could’ve gone differently had either of you did ‘this, this, and that’.

when you tell the girls, you’re half expecting them to be upset, but all they can think about is how, “‘they’ll get twice the amount of gifts during holidays’” — at least, according to your oldest who heard that from a kid in her class with separated parents.

a few years pass after your separation and now the both of you have come to a place where you can just be...friends. it was weird, at first—dropping your kids off to their 'other home'. walking them up to the grandiose sky-rise apartment building that's always bustling with people who've got places to be, and working class people to probably torture—but that's neither here, nor there.

gojo's waiting in the lobby. he's leaned up against the side of the elevator, dressed down in all black athleisure, and he's sporting that damn cheesy grin that you find yourself missing lately.

"hey girls," he greets, lowering down to his haunches and opening his arms for hugs, "oof—big hugs, almost knocked me over! missed me that much, huh?"

while the three of them get their hugs out of the way, you stand there idly watching, rocking back and forth on the balls of your heels.

"hey," he finally acknowledges you, "how was the drive? they got everything they need?"

"it was fine, and yep! they insisted on packing their own bags like big girls but i checked them," you say, before whispering, "and then repacked them."

he laughs at that, and then grabs their suitcases.

"but yeah, i should get going before traffic hits. if you need anything, let me know, and if you need anything," you drop down to your knees, "mommy's only a call away, okay?"

the two of them nod, "okay, mommy!"

"good...now come on, hugs and kisses!" you pull them in, getting enough kisses for two-weeks time. eventually, you pull away—albit, reluctantly, and wave your goodbyes.

the three of them watch you walk away, and when you're finally out of ear-shot, gojo utters a 'miss that'.

"miss what, daddy?"

"uh-huh," he clears his throat, "daddy didn't say anything..."

"liar, you miss mommy. don't you?" the youngest grins, all cheeky and knowing. gojo rolls his eyes—not out of annoyance, but because of how much they reminded him of himself. much like he, nothing ever got past those two...and he doesn't know if that's a good thing or a bad thing. right now, though? it's gonna be a good thing because he needs to know if-

"does mommy have a new boyfriend?"

"why?" the oldest answers, squinting her eyes in suspicion.

"jeez kid, just answer the question."

she ponders for a second, then extends her hand out, opening and closing it in a fast manner. gojo pouts, then takes out his wallet to put a five dollar bill on it.

she doesn't budge.

"oh, c'mon! i'm your father!" he pouts, but acquiesces and pulls out another five, "fine, you little brat."

with a smile on her face, she stuffs the bills in her front pocket and nods her head.

"wha-really?" he gasps, "is he better looking than me? how old is he? is he younger than daddy? is he richer than daddy? what's he do for work?"

ignoring his questions, she only extends her hand out again.

"i'm not giving you any more money, so we can settle this with some ice cream or nothing."

she ponders for a second time before nodding. "ice cream works for me."

"you little...c'mon get on the elevator."

20 floors in and the questions never stop coming.

#gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jjk imagines

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pretty-little-mind33 · 2 months

Text

Sweeter Than Fiction

James Potter x muggle fem!reader

Summary: After months of dating, James finally tells you he's a wizard.

Genre: Fluff <3

pt.2 to Enchanted

Warnings: tbh none

6 months later, James is sprawled out on your couch in your small London apartment. He's dressed in your university sweater, which hugs him snugly but he doesn't seem like he minds. You'd switched into his so he doesn't have much of a choice anyway.

He's pretending to really read the book he had found on your dresser but he keeps his eyes trained on how absorbed you seem in the show you're watching.

James sees the title; "Sabrina The Teenage Witch". He smiles to himself when he sees you try and wiggle your nose like she does and you fall back onto James lap, sighing.

"D'you think I'd make a good witch?" you ask suddenly and his heart almost collapses.

He runs a hand in your hair, playing with the strands as he ponders your question, "Mmm, yeah, you would, lovie," he says and chuckles when you sit up and start to ramble.

"I mean, can you just imagine having magic! I could–I could make all this mess disappear instantly!" you exclaim happily, gesturing to your slightly messy apartment, and then look into his eyes, "wouldn't having magic be fun, Jamie?"

James frowns. You say it so innocently but he starts to wonder if you could know? It has been months.

He sits up, tilting his head at you. He's been wanting to tell you he's a wizard for a while now, plus James wouldn't admit this out loud yet but he knows he wants to marry you and you deserve to know the truth before he asks you to spend your life with him, don't you?

"Y/n," he whispers but you interrupt him.

"And I mean, flying on a broom! How silly! Can't you just imagine it?"

James smiles, completely endeared, "Yeah, I can," he tucks some hair behind your ear and reaches into the back pocket of his jeans. He pulls out his wallet and you stare at him confused as he holds out a folded old polaroid. He hands it to you.

"What's this?" you ask curiously, crossing your legs.

At first, it looks like a simple picture of a group of boys. There are four of them and they look around sixteen if you had to guess. The tallest has his arms crossed and he's standing in the middle as the boy to his right, a shorter boy with long dark hair, has his arm swung around him. A short, stout boy looks timidly at the camera next to the taller one and next to him, what looks like a young James is happily grinning and holding up a fancy looking broom in triumph. James and the longer-haired boy are dressed in a maroon and yellow sports uniform while the other boys are dressed in simple school uniforms.

The picture seems relatively normal for a second until it starts to move. James in the picture lifts the broom and the long-haired boy continues to hug the taller one. You gasp, dropping the picture onto the couch and it flutters to the back where you see written, "Prongs, Wormtail, Moony, and Padfoot, Hogwarts 1976."

"What the hell?" you whisper, voice breaking, and you think you must be imagining things. You look up at James, who is staring at you intently. "James? W-why did that polaroid just move?" you ask and James's stare softens.

He picks up the polaroid and smiles, he shows it to you again. "That's me and my best friends at school," he says but when he looks at you, his smile falters. You look terrified, "Love, it's okay it's just a picture."

"No, it isn't. It's moving!" you say, leaning away from him a little.

James's chest tightens. "I know," he says seriously, "Promise not to panic, okay? But, I'm a wizard."

He says it so calmly you're silent for a moment until you start to laugh. You laugh so hard tears brim in your eyes and James is concerned.

He holds your cheeks in his hands. "No, Y/n, I mean it. I'm a wizard," he stands and walks to his jean-jacket hanging in the entrance. He pulls out his wand and points it at you.

You look scared again when he mutters an unfamiliar word and suddenly, you feel a drizzle of snow fall over your shoulders and unless your ceiling disappeared and it's snowing in July, you know it has to be James.

You let out a shriek and cover your mouth as your eyes widen. James lowers his wand and rushes over, the snow disappearing. "It's okay. I promise I won't hurt you, lovie," he pauses and carefully sits next to you. He's relieved when don't scoot away from him, "I couldn't keep this from you anymore. I love you. You deserve to know who I am."

You're looking at him intensely and you pick up the polaroid again, examining it closer. After a moment you look up and narrow your eyes. You press your index on where James is in the picture. "Why are you holding a broom?" you ask simply and James almost laughs.

"Gryffindor had just won an important Quidditch match, I think."

"Gryff-what won what?"

"Um, my house- um. Quidditch it's a sport. Where you—um, ride a broom."

You look at him and James can't read your expression.

"You can fly on a broom?" you suddenly ask, sounding less nervous now. You look at the picture and then you crack a smile. "You do look cute all dressed up," you put the polaroid near his ear, almost as if you're making sure the boy in the picture is actually James.

Your boyfriend nods and looks at you wearily, biting his lip. He has so much he wants to say. "So, have you always been a witch—" you ask.

"Wizard," he interrupts but you ignore him.

"—or did some creepy troll turn you into one? Oh my, are you the only witch to exist?" you sound almost excited now.

"Wizard," James says and then takes the picture from your hand and holds yours in his. "And no. I'm not. All my friends and family are. You believe me, yeah?"

You think for a moment. "Yeah," you shrug, looking up at the ceiling and then the wand in James's other hand, "you did make it snow, didn't you?" your smile widens and you point at his wand as you say, "Can you make it snow again! Or show me another spell. Please?"

James hesitates but when he sees a small scab on your hand from where you'd cut yourself earlier, he mutters a spell he knows by heart from all the Quidditch tumbles he's had and the wound suddenly disappears.

Your eyes widen and you hold up your palm awkwardly. You look where the scab had been, mesmerized as you run your fingers over the now, non-existent, wound.

"I know this is a lot for you to understand now, lovie. But, I want to explain everything. Anything you want to know," he says seriously and you look back up at him.

You ask question after question, the reality of the situation becoming even more intense as you hear stories from his school and how unfamiliar he had been about "muggles" until he'd met his ex-girlfriend and then, well, you.

"So, wait, witches and wizards exist and we– muggles? –just don't know?" you say after his little speech and James nods. He's sitting criss-cross in front of you on your couch and he's running his thumb over your hand, hoping his gesture is reassuring. You look confused, "Aren't you gonna get in trouble with the—"

"Ministry of Magic for telling you?" James finishes, understanding what you're trying to ask him.

You nod.

James shakes his head and looks into your eyes. "No, because I didn't just tell anyone. You aren't some random person on the street, lovie. You're my girlfriend and I love you. I'm glad you know," he kisses your forehead quickly and you lean up to catch his lips.

"I'm glad I know too," you smile and caress his cheek. It's your way of showing him you don't see him any differently. You turn to the polaroid picture still in your lap and pick it up. "I can't wait to meet more of your wizard friends now," you smile.

James smirks, a twinkle in his eyes. "You already have, darling," he says.

You look closer at the picture and your eyes widen, "No way!" you exclaim looking up at James in disbelief as you start to recognize two of the other boys in the picture. "Remy and Siri too?!"

James chuckles and nods. You turn the polaroid over again and look at the names scribbled in ink. "Then what's up with the weird nicknames? Prongs? Is that you?" you deduce from the order.

James hums and kisses your temple as he pulls you in closer.

"Why Prongs?" you ask, pointing both your index fingers and putting them on your head, "like little devil horns? Or a fork?" you giggle at the last suggestion and James is entirely enchanted by you.

He looks at you fondly and chuckles, "Like stag antlers, lovie."

"Why?"

"Because I can turn into a stag, if I wanted to," James explains slowly, realizing he'd forgotten to mention that tiny detail.

"You WhAT?!"

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bi-writes · 4 months

Text

huhhhhh more bestfriend!roommate!simon x fem!reader because i want them to touch

more bestfriend!roommate!simon (part 4/?)

cw: nsfw (18+), suggestive language and content, mature language and content, kissing over the mask, simon "my girl cums first" riley, fem!receiving touching, praise kink, size kink, simon's thicc thighs need a warning, simon "the mask doesn't come off" riley

simon had a bad habit.

a nose-scrunching habit, a oddly pretty habit, a clouding habit.

you shut the door behind you, locking it. you dropped your keys by the door, slipping your sneakers off and hanging your jacket up. you had the day shift today, so simon let you walk home on your own. but he didn't know when you were coming home, and you suspect that's why he was outside on the balcony, a cigarette between his index and middle finger as he leaned against the wall.

you come up to the sliding door, narrowing your eyes before knocking on the glass. simon didn't move immediately, but you saw him turn his face away, tossing the cigarette onto the floor and stubbing it out with the toe of his combat boot. when he turned to look at you, his mask was on, and there was a little apprehension in those dark eyes.

you gripped the handle of the door, sliding it open. he moved to stand in front of you, taking up the entirety of the doorway, broad shoulders taking up the width of the space.

"luv--"

"shut the fuck up, simon," you snapped. you reached over and gripped the front of his hoodie, yanking him inside. he had to maneuver his shoulders to slip inside, and you brought him right up against you so you could glare right up at him. "you know, it's one thing to come back from your boys' nights smelling like it, but in our home?! simon! how many times do i have to tell you that those things will kill you?!"

he sighed, shaking his head a little.

"trust me, luv," he murmured. "this isn't what'll kill me."

"you shut up," you reached up and gripped his masked chin, forcing his eyes on yours. your eyes were a little watery, and your bottom lip trembled. "don't say things like that. don't you dare."

the air was a little stiff. simon was a bit ashamed, averting his gaze. you leaned up and put both hands on his cheeks, putting his eyes on yours again.

"look at me, simon," you said lowly. "i...i cant tell you what to do. i'm not your mother. but i don't like it. its not good for you. i..." you looked down. "i'm sorry. i'm not trying to...i'm not trying to control you, i just--"

"its alright, luv," he quieted you. "it's alright, i know."

you sighed, dropping your hands to rest on his chest. your splayed your palms there, feeling the warmth of him. you held back a smile when you noticed him puffing out his chest a bit, flexing the muscles under your palms as you pressed against solid flesh.

"big, bad lieutenant riley..." you hummed lowly. "nothing can kill you, is that it?"

simon narrowed his eyes, tilting his head to the side as he grunted.

"dunno what'll kill me, luv, but it won't be a bloody smoke."

you smiled wide finally, your eyes sparkling as you looked towards the kitchen.

"what do you want for dinner, simon? did you go shopping like i asked?"

"'f course i did," he said quickly, his tone nearly offended for even a hint that he you had doubted that he would do ask you asked. you let go of him, making your way to the kitchen. simon let his eyes wander. you were still wearing your uniform from the diner, pretty white and red stripes in the most adorable dress he'd ever seen. he'd curse the man who'd made you wear it the day he saw it the first time; his gaze that couldn't help but follow the valley of your breasts, the way the skirt fell over the curve of your ass--he felt like a teenager fawning over something so trivial about you, so physical and seemingly superficial, but you looked fantastic in it. his beautiful girl, the one he had known since she was only 17, how she grew and blossomed and before he knew, there was no other woman who could take up as much space in his mind as you.

simon had been to many dark places. the dark edges of torture, the narrow walls of being cornered by an enemy, the hot places where hell was just right over the cliff--he was a machine of order and sheer will, he had killed the parts of himself that never quite suited him for war, but somehow, this place with you stayed the same. it was the one constant he knew, the one constant that just never, ever changed, and for that, he was grateful.

you don't think simon riley believes in god. but he believes in you.

simon had been around the world. he had seen the worst of humanity, ripped his own right out of his chest, but none of it mattered as he sat down on the couch he had picked out with you. he remembered when you sent him the pictures of it, your voice on the other line of the phone as you told him how much you liked the pieces. he had been on deployment, and while he could care fuck all about what color the couch in your shared living room was, it was important to you so it was important to him.

"simon?"

your voice broke him out of his thoughts.

"simon, could you open that bottle of wine? i need it for the stew."

domestic. fuck, this was too domestic, it was simple, it was calm. simon never flinched, not even when a bullet would hit the wall by his head, but fuck, the sight of you stirring vegetables in a pot in the kitchen of your shared apartment was making his head spin.

simon riley never missed his target. he set his sights on what he wanted, and with the ease and practice of a lieutenant, he crossed another name off his list.

and one could say that his pretty, little roommate, the woman who had been there before the scars and loved him even after them, was another target. your figure was in his sight, but fuck, his hand was shaking.

when the pot was simmering, you poured yourself a glass of wine and came towards him on the couch. simon was sitting, legs spread a little wide, his hands on his thighs as his eyes were fixed on the low hum of the television. you took a seat beside him after setting aside your glass, putting your feet up underneath you and leaning up against his arm.

"simon? everything alright?"

he turned to face you. a low shadow hung over his face, the hood of his jacket making his face appear even darker despite the mask he wore. you reached over under the hood and brushed a few strands of his hair off his forehead, tracing a small scar against his hairline. you smiled at him, running your knuckles down his temple. in the low light, you could barely see even his eyes, but simon spoke so much with just his eyes. they were beautiful. they were alive, had so much emotion, and you wondered always if maybe simon had learned to speak with them knowing it was the only part of him truly visible.

you lowered your gaze as he pressed his forehead to yours. his skin was warm, and you put a hand on his thigh to steady yourself. you swallowed, noticing how much smaller your hand looked next to his. he wore gloves, like always, but it didn't hide the size of him.

lieutenant simon riley. your simon. built like a fucking bear, a mind of impenetrable steel, eyes that had seen the nine circles of hell and wouldn't spill any of their secrets, simon riley who died and a ghost who brought him back and the woman that he dreamed about when they had taken everything from him except his goddamn memories--

he was kissing you. not in the way other men had kissed you, but in the way that simon riley would kiss you. the front of his mask met your lips, a touch of fabric that was warm and soft and melted your insides with a thousand unspoken words. he whispered your name against your lips, a quiet thing that felt like prayer. and maybe it was a sort of prayer, one that only he could make real, one that only he could make sound like faith and all the ugly, sorry truths that it brought with it.

but there was nothing ugly about this kind of prayer. it held no malice. it was pretty and soft and the only kind of word that ever brought him memories and not nightmares.

you were the one to press your lips to his. even through the fabric, it was like kissing someone for the first time. but not just anyone, simon. simon--simon who kissed your tears when you got stood up at a school dance. simon who promised into your hair that he would come back when you discovered the letters about his deployment overseas. simon who beat the manager at the first bar you ever worked at for following you home one night after your shift. simon who died when his family did and then came back, but only within the walls of your shared apartment and nowhere else.

simon, simon, simon--

his hand was under your dress. one gloved palm slipped up the back of your skirt, caressing one side of your ass as he guided you into his lap.

"simon--"

you choked on his name when you felt bare fingers slide over the edge of your panties. you reached up and cupped both sides of his face, whining as he moved his fingers under the fabric. your cunt was wet and glossy, and he pressed his face into the palm of your hand when he realized just how much time he had wasted being anything other than yours. and he had always been yours, but fuck, why hadn't he ever told you?

"youre so pretty, luv..." he smoothed his other hand up your back, tangling his fingers in your hair and tugging just enough to make you moan. "so pretty...so bloody wet...have you always been like this?"

you nod, unable to speak. his fingers spread your puffy folds apart, a soft wet sound that makes you cry. you want him to put those fingers inside of you, to make you ride his hand until you see nothing but white, but you just cant seem to form any words.

"oh, luv...youre a bloody mess..." he chuckled a bit. "fuckin' hell...let me see you--"

he picked up the skirt of your dress, his dark eyes flickering down. he cursed his breath, fisting the lace of your panties and ripping them right off. you whimpered as he tossed them onto the floor.

"christ, luv, can't believe i ever let this cunt be with another man. look at ya. it's fuckin' christmas mornin', aye?"

"you hate christmas--"

"dunno. could be more inclined if i got to have you in the mornin'."

"fuck you--"

"not yet, sweetheart."

simon never really thought you were much of a singer. but the crying and the begging and the moaning was music--and he was learning how to play you just right.

fingers teasing your cunt, he can feel the way your body aches for something more--something big and eager and warm, something that needs you badly, but fuck--you're so pretty with his name in your mouth and your cum on his fingers.

mine, mine, mine--

he grunted when you gripped his wrist, steadying his fingers enough so you could sink down on them. he groaned lowly, watching you tilt your head back and ride his fingers. sinking those gorgeous hips down again and again, putting his hand to use in a way that felt wrong up until now. fuck holding a sniper rifle and putting bad men to sleep--his hand was made to please you, that much was clear to him now.

you were so tight. grinding slow against him, dripping down his fingers, crying out when his thumb moved a gentle circle over your clit and his fingers slipped up enough to graze a pretty spot inside of you.

"nnngghhh--simon--"

"that's it, luv...'s it..."

you laid your forehead against his, nodding along to his words but your thoughts were only on the feeling of him. one finger, a second finger, a third--fucking up into you and feeling the squeezing of your soft walls and touching you in every way that made you dizzy and warm and cock-drunk--

"fuck, fuck, fuck--!"

you sobbed against his covered mouth as you came over his hand, a cloud of euphoria and pleasure and the soft thoughts of him that seemed to string together in some wonderful, hazy picture of him. simon was all hard lines, rough edges, the cut of broken glass or the wrong end of a gun, but it never mattered to you.

simon was the beginning and the end, of what, you weren't sure, but he was the beginning of something and definitely the end of it.

his eyes were on yours, dark, beautiful eyes that never lost their gentleness even when they should've been permanently black with his rage. simon was not angry. simon was not bent on revenge or eager to kill or smiling the face of death.

no, simon was in love. simon was so fucking in love.

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #ghost call of duty #ghost mwii #ghost x reader #cod #call of duty #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut

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summercomfort · 4 months

Text

in my pursuit of ever-increasingly niche comics, I drew a 13 page comic about Tape v Hurley, a court case about Chinese-American school segregation in 1885. The rest of the pages are after the readmore, as well as on AO3 here. More obsure Chinese American court case comics are there, as well.

Historical Notes

Mary and Joseph Tape were not born in America, but their names and identities were very much formed in America. Joseph Tape was born Jeu Dip in Guangdong, China, immigrated the America when he was twelve, and spent his teenage years working as a house servant in an Irish household. Mary arrived in America at the age of eleven, and was found and raised as Mary McGladery in a Protestant orphanage as the only Chinese child amongst ~80 children. Both Mary and Jeu spent their formative years amongst White Christian families, so when Jeu Dip and Mary married in 1875, little wonder that Jeu picked the English name of Joseph Tape -- Joseph to match with Mary, and the German last name Tape as a nod to his former name of Dip.

The Tape family lived about 14 blocks outside of Chinatown, in a primarily white neighborhood. They dressed in Western clothing, spoke English at home, and Mamie grew up playing with non-Chinese kids. Naturally, they wanted their children to attend the local elementary school, a mere 3 blocks from their home. The principal, Ms. Hurley, denied her entrance, claiming that she was “filthy and diseased.” At the time, there was no public school option for Chinese children -- the 1870 state law stipulated separate schools for “African and Indian children” only, not Chinese. The Tape family, with the help of the Chinese Six Companies, their church, and the Chinese consulate, decided to sue, claiming that the 1880 California school code guaranteed everyone a right to public education and that this was a violation of the 14th Amendment.

They won.

But this was 1885, three years after the passage of the Chinese Exclusion Act and six years before Plessy v Ferguson. Regardless of what the California Supreme Court might decide, public sentiment was on the side of the San Francisco school district. Determined to keep out this “invasion of Mongol barbarism”, the California State Legislature passed a law permitting separate schools for Chinese children, which then allowed Principal Hurley to reject Mamie Tape once more.

While Mamie was rejected from the Spring Valley Elementary School for being Chinese, she also had a hard time fitting in to the Chinese public school. The Chinese merchants saw Western education as something primarily for boys. (Their girl children learned from their mothers at home.) Mamie, a girl dressed in Western clothes, would have stood out like a sore thumb. The final panel of the comic was based on a photo from three years later, and even then, Mamie was the only girl.

Places where I fudged the history: Frank, Mamie’s younger brother, was actually six years old and should have been more present in the comic, but I wante to keep the focus on Mamie and Mary. Also, Mamie had actually shown up to her first day of school in Western clothes. An earlier draft of the comic had a separate arc involving Mamie feeling rejected at school and Mary buying her some Chinese clothes, but that got too long and complicated.

Much of this was drawn from Mae Ngai’s book about the Tape family and their experiences as 2nd and 3rd generation Chinese Americans, titled “The Lucky Ones.”

----------

Here is Mary Tape's letter to the San Francisco School Board, 1885:

1769 Green Street. San Francisco, April 8, 1885. To the Board of Education - Dear Sirs: I see that you are going to make all sorts of excuses to keep my child out off the Public schools. Dear sirs, Will you please to tell me! Is it a disgrace to be Born a Chinese? Didn’t God make us all!!! What right have you to bar my children out of the school because she is a chinese Decend. They is no other worldly reason that you could keep her out, except that. I suppose, you all goes to churches on Sundays! Do you call that a Christian act to compell my little children to go so far to a school that is made in purpose for them. My children don’t dress like the other Chinese. They look just as phunny amongst them as the Chinese dress in Chinese look amongst you Caucasians. Besides, if I had any wish to send them to a chinese school I could have sent them two years ago without going to all this trouble. You have expended a lot of the Public money foolishly, all because ofa one poor little Child. Her playmates is all Caucasians ever since she could toddle around. If she is good enough to play with them! Then is she not good enough to be in the same room and studie with them? You had better come and see for yourselves. See if the Tape’s is not same as other Caucasians, except in features. It seems no matter how a Chinese may live and dress so long as you know they Chinese. Then they are hated as one. There is not any right or justice for them. You have seen my husband and child. You told him it wasn’t Mamie Tape you object to. If it were not Mamie Tape you object to, then why didn’t you let her attend the school nearest her home! Instead of first making one pre tense Then another pretense of some kind to keep her out? It seems to me Mr. Moulder has a grudge against this Eight-year-old Mamie Tape. I know they is no other child I mean Chinese child! care to go to your public Chinese school. May you Mr. Moulder, never be persecuted like the way you have persecuted little Mamie Tape. Mamie Tape will never attend any of the Chinese schools of your making! Never!!! I will let the world see sir What justice there is When it is govern by the Race prejudice men! Just because she is of the Chinese decend, not because she don’t dress like you because she does. Just because she is descended of Chinese parents I guess she is more of a American then a good many of you that is going to prewent her being Educated. Mrs. M. Tape

#original comic #chinese american history #legal history #turns out there's a lot of chinese american court cases #that i have a lot of feelings about #my comic #mine

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