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bbfeelings · 1 year ago

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My contribution to the first day of Kazuki Week 2023: grief/acceptance. Sorry double posting, but I figure it's more accessible to post the entire fic here on Tumblr. You can also read it on AO3.

Title inspired by this song. And for your vibe considerations.

Your Mess Is Mine

QPR or mlm KazuRei. Post-finale, Pre-Time Skip. Family fluff.

Summary: Kazuki, Rei, and Miri attend Karin's wedding in France. Before this, Kazuki and Rei's relationship was largely undefined because they were both fine with whatever that is going on.

────

When Karin flashed her engagement ring over video chat a year ago, Kazuki didn’t imagine he’d be in the French countryside, walking her down the aisle, with Miri tossing petals just steps before them. Karin clung to “Kazu-nii” all those years ago; and just now, she hooked her arm around his again.

Yuzuko’s death once separated them. Parentless and raised by her elder sister, young Karin went to live with a distant relative up north, while Kazuki remained in Tokyo. He believed that she resented him for taking her only family away. Then they reconnected again, and she fitted right into his newfound family. Miri and Karin adore each other, and Rei warmed up to her quickly, too.

Kazuki feels the tears well up. Don’t cry, don’t cry, they’re taking photos. He looks at her; Karin is beautiful in the gown she designed herself. She looks right back at him, the way she squints when she smiles, the same quirk Yuzuko had. I’m walking her down the aisle, Yuzu. Can you believe it? He presses his lips together, but a blink lets the droplets fall.

“Aw, come on, you’re such a cryer,” Karin says, with a smile so dazzling that he almost misses her misty eyes. “You’re gonna make me cry, too.” The two giggles at how silly they look trying to fight back tears.

────

After retiring from their previous careers and moving out of the city to a seaside town, Kazuki and Rei (mostly Kazuki, really) made local friends and were invited to weddings a couple of times. But this particular wedding is unlike anything they’ve experienced. For starters, the celebration is hosted at a chateau—or what Miri excitedly called a castle. Karin’s husband is an award-winning chef specializing in Japanese-French cuisine, so the food is bound to be exquisite. Not to mention, French weddings are an all-day affair, as they’ve been warned that dinner will be served at 9 pm, and the party after will last till dawn.

As her first trip outside of Japan, or perhaps just as a 9-year-old, Miri is having the time of her life. “We’re staying at a castle!” Their room is furnished with one king-sized bed. Kazuki and Rei looked at each other and shrugged.

In the four and a half years they’ve left their old lives behind, the family of three had had a few living situations. After the loft apartment, they moved into an old unit with a tatami floor in the only bedroom. Much to young Miri’s delight, the three of them slept together for an entire year.

It wasn’t an easy year; stuck in a shoe box, between assimilating into civilian life, parenthood, and Rei’s disability, Kazuki and Rei had disagreements. Many. Never fighting in front of Miri was the one thing they could agree on from the start.

But it was also that year when they grew much closer. The reality forced them to communicate, and to face issues head on. Ultimately, Kazuki and Rei wanted the same thing: a safe, happy childhood for Miri. Every time they fought, it was to protect that vision. In that same year, they began to truly mold and fit into each other, consciously or unconsciously. From Kazuki walking on Rei’s right side, Rei’s ability to maneuver in the kitchen alongside Kazuki, to the way they sleep in the futons on tatami.

────

The day of the wedding, Kazuki stood before the armoire; a black suit for him, a navy suit for Rei, and a satin and tulle dress Karin had made for Miri in a shade of sage green that flatters her eyes and hair. She’d even hand sewed her name, in cursive, on the inside of the dress.

“Reminds me of the night before her first day at daycare,” Kazuki said in a tone reminiscent of something like nostalgia.

“A much better job than we’ll ever do,” Rei took a glance then chuckled.

“Can’t argue with that.”

Kazuki zipped up the dress then fluffed up the wrinkled tulle skirt. Miri twirled excitedly. “Can I go? Can I go?” Her eyes sparkled.

“Don’t run too far, be back here in 10 minutes, okay?” She nodded then disappeared behind the door. By the sound of her heels, she was skipping down the hall.

Kazuki combed and tied Rei’s hair into a sleek low ponytail. Rei had kept it at mid length, after discovering his strands form loose waves with the right haircut, instead of a puffy, frizzy mess. Though Kazuki never called it a mess; he’d say it was fluffy while ruffling through it.

“I can do it myself,” Rei said. Kazuki fastened the necktie just right, then smoothed down the collar. “I know. But I like doing it.”

“Hmm.”

────

After the ceremony, it’s the cocktail hours. When the blonde man finally returns with a plate of hors d'oeuvre and two flutes, Rei snares. “Done harassing your brother-in-law?”

“This is the time! A real, living Michelin star chef. I had to.”

“So what did you steal from him.” Rei takes a sip as he watches Miri playing with other children across the room.

“He said we should try using baguette instead of milk bread for French toast.”

“We could test with baguette on the next day off. What else?”

“Something about olive oil… I’m not sure. His Japanese isn’t fluent. And a lot of the food terms were in French,” Kazuki pauses to enjoy the finger food. “You have to try this.”

Rei studies the little piece of toast with various toppings, “Nah. It has olives.”

Kazuki picks out the olive, eats it, then offers Rei again by shoving it directly in front of his face. Rei reluctantly eats off Kazuki’s hand.

“Not bad.”

“Right?”

────

The dinner was a feast. Multi-course, modern Japanese-French cuisine with wine pairings. Rei swears that Kazuki was nearly brought to tears, again. “The miso? The miso in the sauce? Brilliant. Gosh. I wish I was Karin.” Kazuki gushes.

“Don’t even think about stealing my husband, Kazuki,” the tipsy bride waltzes over with a wine glass in hand. Her pretend stern face turns into giggles as soon as she sees Rei. “I don’t think Rei-kun would be happy with that either!”

“Why wouldn’t I be—“

Karin shushes him. “Stop it. Stop. It flew right over you again and I’m not explaining.” Rei closes his gaping mouth in confusion.

“Go get Miri! I’m doing the bouquet toss in a bit!” The giddy bride says before hopping away towards the groom, who waits to take her hand with the fondest look on his face.

“What was that?” Rei asks. Kazuki puts a hand on his back and shakes his head.

“Figured.”

────

Kazuki and Miri wait with a group of women who are participating in the bouquet toss.

“This is so fun,” She says as she yawns. Too much fun, perhaps. It is getting late. “When you and Rei-papa get married, can I be a flower girl again?” She looks up at Kazuki and asks nonchalantly.

“Eh? Why—“

“Kazuki! Get outta there! You’re not getting this bouquet!” Karin shouts and swings her arm dramatically. Her cheeks are flushed and her steps are slightly unsteady. She looks so happy.

“My bad, my bad…” Kazuki holds up his hands as he moves out of the way. The guests laugh at their sibling banter.

The excited crowd gathers. This is where the real fun of the night begins. Karin turns around and does a couple of swings before her toss; the guests watch attentively in anticipation.

“Three… two… one!” The bride jumps and hurls backward, sending the bouquet across the ballroom. In front of the group, Miri realizes the bundle of flowers isn’t coming their way. It’s going completely sideways, towards the wine table. Everyone’s eyes follow the flying bouquet.

Rei flexes his left arm and catches it backhandedly. He turns around, prosecco in one hand, flowers in the other, utterly flabbergasted. The guests go wild; several women swarm him. That man wasn’t even looking!

Miri weaves through the traffic, throws herself at Rei, and squeals. “That was so cool!” She beams and hugs his waist tightly. “My papas are getting married!”

“Eh? What do you mean—“

“Congratulations!” The guests cheer, making him even more flustered. What is Miri saying? He scans the crowd in a panic, but couldn’t find a single familiar face.

Then he sees it. Strawberry blonde, a pair of bright, tea-brown eyes, and a crooked grin. Kazuki swims through the crowd and makes it to Rei and Miri.

“Rei-papa and Kazuki-papa are getting married!”

“Wow, haha, um, nice catch!” Kazuki says awkwardly. Damn it, my nerves! Rei doesn’t say anything, eyes wide like a deer in the headlight. “Um, you all right? Rei?”

“I saw something in the corner of my eye and… this.” He holds up the bouquet, “That wasn’t very normal people of me.” Rei mutters, ears still hot from all the attention.

Kazuki chuckles slyly, “Sure was very assassin of you.”

Rei dishes a side eye and chucks the flowers in his face.

────

They finally coaxed Miri into going to bed. The condition: she gets to hold on to the bouquet when she does. The two men step out to the garden for some fresh air. Rei takes out a brand new pack of cigarettes in French packaging.

“Haven’t seen you smoke in a while,” Kazuki commented.

“Well, it’s for the occasion.” He lights it up, takes a drag, and promptly coughs.

“Can’t handle it anymore?”

“Shut up. I just wasn’t expecting it to be this strong.”

The lively music flows out from the chateau, a stark contrast to the serene and sleepy countryside.

“…would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Sign the papers.”

“Sign what papers?”

“Gosh, Rei, do I really need to spell it out?”

“You know the answer.”

“Fine.” Kazuki sighs, wishing he’d had a drink before this. “Like, getting married or whatever. Hypothetically, of course.”

Rei takes a long drag and exhales. “I mean, you’re the one who was married.”

“That was different.”

“How so?”

Kazuki pictures the day he and Yuzuko got married at the city hall. She was in a sundress, and he was in a shirt and tie that were sold as a set. But that wasn’t really it, was it? Marriage is… what comes after. Though their marriage barely lasted, and it wasn’t their fault. Kazuki reaches his hand over, Rei passes the cigarette.

Kazuki coughs.

“Told you.”

“Yeah, thanks for the warning.” Regaining composure, Kazuki continues. “You know she died six months later.”

Rei remains silent.

“But it was easy—the decision to get married. It was just the thing to do, you know? If I could do it over, I’d marry her again. She was what I needed. At the time. I… loved her. I really did. And I still do, I think.” He pauses, looking back at the chateau. “Like how I love Karin and Miri. I’d do anything for them—I’d die in their place, if I could.”

The thought of Miri or Kazuki dying sends a chill down his spine. Rei turns his head away. “That’s grim. We’re at a wedding.”

“I know. But—and then there’s you. And I’d do the same for you, too.”

“I can handle myself.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

“Then what do you mean, Kazuki? You asked me a hypothetical question and went on about… about the people you love. What’s that got to do with each other? I can’t understand you when you go roundabout like that.” Rei pauses, filling his lungs with brisk air. “I need you to tell me exactly what it is.”

Kazuki traces the outline of the man before him, then puts his arm around his slim frame. Rei leans in and rests his head on his shoulder. “We’re not fighting though, are we?”

“Of course not, dummy,” Kazuki says softly.

“Idiot.”

“Jerk.”

“…it’s warm.”

“Hmm.”

“I like you.”

“What did you just say?” Kazuki pulls away, “What are you, a teenager?”

“I didn’t like anyone when I was a teenager.”

“Don’t get smart with me,” he fixes Rei’s crooked tie, “I love you.”

Rei brings them back together and burrows his face in the strawberry blonde.

“I love you, too.”

────

The guests circle the newlyweds as they open the dance. Kazuki and Rei watch from a safe distance, sipping on drinks.

Rei finishes his dessert wine. “This is delicious, why do they serve it in such a small glass?”

“Probably because only an ant like you could drink it,” Kazuki scrunches his nose, “It’s sickly sweet.”

“No, it’s not, it has… layers.”

“I think it’s too sweet.”

“Can we stock these at the diner?”

“Absolutely not.”

“You suck,” Rei pouts, “I’m going to get more.”

10 minutes later, Rei is visibly tipsy. “I learned,” he says as he puts his hand on the small of Kazuki’s back, “these are called dessert wine.” His eyes twinkle. Oh no. Kazuki knows this look.

“Let’s go!” Rei tugs on the lapels.

“You don’t even like dancing!”

“Yeah, but, Karin says we have to.”

Kazuki glances over, Karin is in the middle of the dance floor, picking up her floor-length skirt, laughing and twirling to the poppy music. Kazuki hesitates. He can’t dance to save his life. A happy drunk Rei is mesmerized by the joy spilling over from the dance floor.

Then the music changes. It’s a slower instrumental piece; anyone can tell that it’s a love song. The crowd slows down. Then the groom waltzes in, Karin takes his hand. Cheek to cheek, they step and sway to the rhythm. The guests pair up and follow their lead.

Rei looks at Kazuki, eyes twinkling. He gives in. Then Rei smiles the only way he can: a thin-lipped, strained smile. But Kazuki knows better than anyone else. This is Rei’s happy face. He takes his left hand, and he places his right on his heart. He pulls him in with an arm around the waist.

“Is your arm okay like that?” Kazuki asks, in a voice only Rei can hear. Rei hums. They move with the music; knowing nothing about dancing, they just follow their instincts. Rei puts his head down on Kazuki’s shoulder and closes his eyes.

“Don’t fall asleep on me.”

“Hmm.”

────

Daylight breaks into the ballroom, the partied-out guests sit around, nibbling hot onion soup.

Rei’s glossy, wavy, raven-colored hair is down, draping over his shoulders. Kazuki’s shirt is stained with wine. Their ties are missing. The two huddle together, eating soup.

“If it’s possible, it’d be nice.”

“What?”

“To get married. To you.”

“I see.”

“Tsk. That’s it?”

“You want me to propose now?”

“Maybe.”

“Then I propose to—add French onion soup to the menu.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s delicious.”

“That’d be nice.”

“Hmm.”

“To get married. If it’s possible. That is.”

“Okay. What about dessert wine?”

“No.”

“Fine.”

Kazuki warps Rei into his arms and rests his chin on his left shoulder. Their cheeks touch; slightly sticky with sweat, wine, and maybe a little bit of happy tears.

[ The End ]

Thank you for reading! Fun fact: the baguette French toast is a secret menu at this little cafe run by a French couple near where I used to live. The best French toast hands down. I want to thank the anon who sent in the lovely idea of a KazuRei story at Karin’s wedding.

Check out my other Buddy Daddies fics in the pinned post, if you'd like!

#sorry for crowding #formatting on tumblr is hard #lmk if you prefer reading on this app #kurusu kazuki #suwa rei #kazurei #kazukiweek2023 #buddy daddies #buddy daddies fic

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zerozeroren · 2 years ago

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Hi! Bunny heard you wanted OC questions? Bunny has OC questions!

Regarding Tony, you mentioned his family moved to Canada when he was a child, what was that like for him? Was he excited to go somewhere new or did he dread it? And after, was it like he expected or did it hit him and made him change his mind? Before Sophie, did he ever consider moving back to Italy? What was the thing he missed the most that first year in Canada? Is there something specific from Italy that he still misses, all these years after?

For Sophie, tell me about her siblings! How often do they talk to with her since she moved out? Texts, video or phone calls? Do they like Tony? What about favorite memories with Sophie and each of them individually instead of all three together?

About Nana, tell me more about her aspirations for the future! Impossible dreams and hard working expectations, and how they vary from what she thought as a child. And on the opposite side, back to the past, does she think her younger self would be happy or proud to meet her current self? What would she tell kid Nana?

Oh, yeah, before I forget, let's ask about Ella and Ume too! Let's see… Something holiday themed! What do they most enjoy doing during the holiday season?

Okay, those are enough questions. Hope you enjoy them! *bunny hugs* Love you! 🐰💛💛

Thank you for so many lovely questions ^^

Let's start from the beginning

1) Changing continents was incredibly hard for Tony. He was about 6 or 7 when it happened, and as it was happening, he wasn't able to fully grasp it, so when their family finally settled in the new place it hit him like a brick. He was no longer able to hug his Nonna or talk to his uncles, the people he knew from birth were so far away, and the new people around him were incredibly different in every aspect. His mom is Canadian so at least he is bilingual and didn't struggle with the language, but putting himself in this new culture was super difficult. As I've mentioned previously, Tony was already kind of focused on his immediate family instead of trying to find friendships elsewhere, so moving to a completely new country only exacerbated this tendency in him. He was basically hiding from life at home with his mom and dad. He was also devastated because his cat Vitello stayed in Italy. Tony couldn't fall asleep without cuddling a toy cat for about a year. As for moving back.. Yes, he indeed considered it, but only after finishing his higher education, and by the time he actually did he was already happy to be where he was, so he stayed.

2) Sophie always keeps in touch with Adam and Levi. They have a group chat for memes and bullshitting, and they facetime as often as they possibly can given their very busy schedules. They can just randomly call each other in the middle of the night if they so desire. They also have more dorkier ways of communicating. Like Sophie would print out their favourite meme and send it via physical mail just because why the hell not. Or call a pizza place, order her brothers a pizza and ask the pizza guys to write a silly message on the box. So yeah they're very much in touch.

Sophie's brothers tease her over Tony relentlessly. They wouldn't leave her alone about him whenever they're physically around. She gets flipping ROASTED (because she's so """tough""" and he is so """soft"""). But it's a stark contrast to what brothers were like when they were around Sophie's abusive ex. They were so afraid of her that they wouldn't even dare to speak. So.... Sophie does find being roasted quite endearing, given the circumstances.

Adam's favourite Sophie memory: the first time she brought him ice skating. Skating became his entire life, he would win awards and compete on multinational level, and the fact that it was his sister who encouraged him and made it seem so much fun never left him.

Levi's favourite Sophie memory: she took the blame for a broken lamp. Adam and Levi were playing chase when Levi dropped the lamp on the floor and shattered it, and when their father, furious, entered the room, Sophie confessed to dropping it instead of Levi (Levi already was on thin ice with the dad by that point and another misbehaviour would definitely be the last straw and end up really badly for Levi). Levi is forever grateful that his sister is ready to stick it out for him.

3) it's difficult with Nana and future, because by the time attitudes start she's rather disillusioned. When she was younger and more naive, she dreamt of joining the police to protect citizens and be a symbol of safety and justice. And then she actually joined the police force... Soon she burned out, hardened and developed quite a cynical outlook on life. During Attitudes, she constantly ponders whether the things she does are worth it, and what she'd rather do instead. She feels more lost than she'd like to admit.

Kid Nana would probably be in awe of current Nana because she is (on the surface) all that kid Nana ever wanted to be. Nana Old would tell her younger self that waiting is worth it. Hang in there, kid, things will change for the better.

4) Ume's not mine so I'm not answering that. But Ella is absolutely a Christmas junky. The kind who has their house fully decorated by November 2nd. She's all about that hot-cocoa-gift-wrapping-shopping-spree-carol-singing time of the year, she drips Christmas cheer and she dreams of living in a Hallmark Christmas movie. So... For at least 2 months of the year, she's incredibly annoying XD

#attitudes #oc lore #ooh what a big Boy this ask is

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dilesxpressions · 9 months ago

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Welton Czhang

1. Name, Year, Major, and Hometown

My name is Welton Czhang, I’m an Animal Science major, and my hometown is San Gabriel!

2. What’s your roman empire?

My roman empire is thinking about cats and how complete my life would be if I had pets, how I can constantly adapt and improve my boxing stances and punches, and finally how frequently I can plan hangouts with people around my schedule while also leaving to study.

3. What is the best compliment you have ever received?

The best compliments I have ever received are from my friends stating how I do the most for other people, and give away so much love.

4. If your life was a movie what genre would it be (comedy, horror, drama, etc.) and what actor would play you?

If life was a movie the genre for mine would be a dramedy! David Tennant would play me and absolutely crush my role.

5. What is something on your college bucket list?

Something on my college bucket list is to bike all around Davis from night until morning with myself, a friend, or a group of friends, and to not check our phones for the entire duration of that time. Only until morning would we check where we’ve been, and track the amount of miles we’ve biked, and then bike back home!

6. What’s your guilty pleasure? (song, movie, food etc.)

My guilty pleasure is spending a LOT of screen time on Instagram sending silly reels or memes to my friends.

7. What are your bad habits?

I do not make my bed every morning, I sometimes do not wake up on my first, second, third, fourth, or fifth alarm because I am a heavy sleeper, and I enjoy my long showers. (~40 mins)

8. What are your favorite song lyrics?

One of my favorite song lyrics is from Last Kiss, “I love how you walk with your hands in your pockets, How you’d kiss me when I was in the middle of saying something, There’s not a day I don’t miss those rude interruptions. And I’ll go, sit on the floor wearing your clothes, all that I know is I don’t know, how to be something you miss. “ I love how Taylor can tell stories in a song, maybe it’s romantic, maybe it’s bittersweet, but the way the lyrics rhyme and be catchy as well as paint a picture in your head is why I love Last Kiss, as well the rest of her music!

9. Defend your unpopular opinion/ hot take

In n Out is mid, the bread tastes like sandpaper, McDonald’s is better in literally everything, Cane’s is also mid, it tastes so plain, if it wasn’t for Cane’s sauce, they would be nothing. KFC is the best fast-food place for chicken because I grew up with it, and the oil, skin, and chicken they make has the best 1:1:1 ratio. Drake only knows how to make catchy, popular songs but is not a good artist. I like some of his songs but he is not good.

10. Describe a time where you had to step up and be a leader?

One high challenge situation that really put me in a leadership position was the time that I was placed into a group project where we had to create a song about DNA, and I was a freshman who had just recently transferred into high school. In my group were sophomores and juniors who were uninterested in cooperating with me in completing the project, rather, they much preferred each other’s company. They spent most of their time joking and chatting with each other, and initially it was so hard to get anything serious and project-related done. They also ignored me or glossed over what I, a freshman, had to say. With a deadline a couple weeks away, I spent a good chunk of my time first setting aside my own differences from the group so that I could bond with each one of them personally before bringing them all together so we could achieve the task that loomed ahead of us. If they wanted to have fun, we had fun, we just made the project fun in our way! It wasn’t easy, the communication aspect and team-bonding part was already not a part of the assignment, taking up so much time for effective planning. Regardless, our final product was something that we all collectively put our heads together for, and we ended up really happy with the outcome. When it came our turn to present our song, my teacher loved it, and the class cheered us on afterwards with a standing ovation.

#gudechaco's giggling pussy crushers

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strelitziareginaee · 11 months ago

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MEET THE MUN!

name — Ghost/Ghosty

pronouns — she/her

preferred comms — Discord (Ask for Discord!) and Tumblr IMs

name of muse —

Main Muse: Strelitzia Side Muse: Cinderella

experience in RP — A long time. I've been rping since the Myspace days! Then I bounced around a lot. Left Tumblr for a few years and recently came back.

best experiences — I used to be a part of the Kingdom Hearts community back when Tumblr was really thriving (in the early 2010's), when rping in groups rather than independently was a big thing. I roleplayed Vanitas and made some really awesome friends in that group! We called ourselves the KH Crack Crew, lol. We would all talk every day on Skype! Those were good times and sometimes I still think about all of them. We just sort of drifted apart when we started to explore other fandoms, and yeaaaaa.... I still miss my KHCC squad sometimes, though we're all still friends on Facebook!

pet peeves / dealbreakers — Godmodding. I can't stand it. Even if it's something as small as assuming what my character is going to do next. If you want to have the scene go a certain way, there's a way you can write it and if my character does deviate from your original plan, you can take the story elsewhere. That's what can make rp really fun! The only times I'm willing to let it slide is in drabbles, lol.

My other pet peeve is taking what my character does way too personally outside of character. Like, ya'll know this is fake, right? lmao. At the end of the day, we're just writing our silly little characters in our silly little worlds. If it's ruining your day that badly, please go outside and touch some grass.

muse preference ( fluff, angst, smut ) — So I'm actually a huge sucker for romance plots. Romance, fluff, smut, slice of life. Also omegaverse, hehehe. I'm also a huge historical romance nut (think Bridgerton, lol)!

I've sort of moved on from fandom muses and now focus more on OC's (I really only rp on Discord these days, and 9/10 times it's M/M. I do have a F/F historical romance plot that I adore rn tho). Strelly and Cindy are the first muses I've picked up in years, and started rping on Tumblr again. So sometimes I feel rusty playing an established character I didn't make myself. But I'm trying! 〒▽〒 Anyways, give me that romantic nasty shit!! And make it gay as hell!!

plot or memes — Both! I think it's fun to meme and get into a character's mind that you normally wouldn't get a chance to play out. Or just being silly gooses. But I'm also down for always plotting and making something deep and personal!

long or short replies — Either, or! It depends on the plot, the situation that's happening in the story, or what length my rp partner sends me. I'm pretty good about matching the length of a partner's. Unless I got nothing else to say, then it'll be on the shorter side. Like, if our characters are just chatting and there's no action involved, of course it's going to be short.

best time to write — In the mornings! I do rp replies in between slow periods at work. I work from home, so I can get away with it, lol. Which is why you'll see me online for a good part of the day. It's also when I have the most energy. I'm an early bird and I'm burnt out by the time the evening rolls around. Sometimes I can write in the evenings, but that's very rare. So I try to knock out as much as I can in the mornings.

I'm rarely RARELY available on the weekends. That's when I'm the busiest~

are you like your muse —

I'd say yes. Although I don't have a green thumb like Strelitzia. I can't keep plants alive for the life of me. I have a lot self doubts like her too, and I struggle to make friends since I'm incredibly shy and struggle to connect with others on a personal level. ಥuಥ Me and Strelly be fighting for our lives out here!

Cinderella though, I resonate with her a lot. I grew up in a household where I was the cleaner and cook, and I just... know exactly how she feels, LOL.

tagged by: No one! Stolen from Litoredeem. Tagging: Feel free to steal!

#{; ooc prompt ;}#{; dashboard meme ;}#{; just a little way to introduce myself to you all uwu ;}

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kusundei · 6 months ago

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NOOOO god forbid im being cringe . im being clingy again. im being reliant. i talk so much ab trust and communication but goodness. im so scared to do that. i was so communicative and trusting and reliant on jd that i grew to be too much for her. she couldnt handle me anymore and im so so scared i will drive him away on accident because ill end up being how i actually am. insecure. insecure and too much to handle. i was okay for a while taking care pf other people but i think it truly got to me after a while and i felt comfortable with jd enough to be vulnerable., and then she took it all away from me again and i put up my evil walls. im slowly trying to tear them down brick by brick but the smallest thing makes me so scared i go back into hiding and repair it again (god forbid webweaving.) imm justtt. god. hes literally me chat. he probaby thinks the same way i do nad if i told him this he’d lash me. (Not seriously. just. id be so concerned and the that he thinks id feel that way ab him.) Its just sooo. goddd. im sososoSCARED? he makes me feel so much more comfortable than jd ever did but at the same time it is so hard to shake that feeling ive grown so accustomed to. but its also like. killing me slowly.

GODDD jd yoy ruined me. genuinely. bella ruined me and so did brittany but you did it all the same. did everything yoy promised you’d never do to me. told you all ab the shit tehy did wholeheartedly believing you wouldnt do the same. goodness gracious immm. god. and even after it all i dont hate you and i dont hate anyone and i WISH I COULD. but i will always give you guys the benefit of the doubt. you just. prevent me from being me. because i WANT to be me. you made me anxious again. i just . want it to go away like it did before. what did you do jd that made me trust you so much? just for you to tear it all away and ruin me all the same??? was it the fact i was a kid?? i trusted you blindly and i was just hurting that i needed someone to rely on again?? because thats what bella did. thats what brittany did but i do not blame her for what she did to me. we ruined each other. but then again i also hurt you. i dont get ittt. why am i rambling ab this GOD god fucking forbid im feeling doomed slightly. i want to be everything for you ajax and i want to help you and be that bf i was with everyone else. sacrifice myself for you. but i . selfishly. want you to do the same. i want to rely on you. i want you to listen to me and communicate qith me. i want that trust back. the support i needed all those times but never got truly. is that too much? im just feelinf sooo. torn. for no reason. why am i so doomed rn chat what is happening.????

i wont think ab it anymore ill jsut doom myself further. wake up please. becahse i know when you do i’ll be able to get rid of this feelinf again and i can be silly sam and just be me when im not haunted by my evil, evil brain. i miss you goddd. i keep looking at pictures of you to give me a bit of a serotonin rush. makes me feel better. had to pull up some of ur vms to remind myselfof who you are and fjat im not insane . as much as im trying not to be i feel evil and clingy again. god forbid i justtt. i miss you so bad …..

feeling sleepy. a tad bit delirious. but i digress. the high from last night is still trudging behind me but the embarassment is starting to kick in a biiitt. perchance i feel like i did a little too much rn… heh…. its okay we’re fine im nust like. uhhh. maybe i SHOULD keep this on the dl………. i need to calm down im afraid he might lash me its only been. a few hours chat.

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tobesobri · 4 years ago

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Nervous

the one where Y/N might be insane but Harry is definitely a shy nervous idiot. (~7k)

thank you @ anon for requesting this! I tried to do it justice, but I’ve honestly never written Harry this way so 😬hopefully it’s decent. Apart from this being probably the only request i’ve ever done, this is also my first piece of one-off writing i’ve posted in a long time, so I do really hope yall enjoy it as much as I do! Thank you to @fromyourstrulyh @aileenacoustic & @smokeinherperfume for beta reading and just generally being incredible ❤️As always, your feedback, thoughts or just a reblog are super appreciated!!

The busy conversation could not overpower the way the sun felt on Y/N’s skin. Sometimes it burned a little too hot, but other times it felt just right and she found herself basking in it, ignoring all her friends a few times too many. She knew if they were any further inland from the beach, the hot L.A. sun would be completely unbearable, but the breeze that swooshed through the courtyard every so often was enough to make the weather practically perfect.

She no longer regretted going for one of her summer dresses that had straps and a shorter hemline. Her other options had been one with sleeves or a midi skirt, but either of those would have left her boiling, even if she only had her bathing suit on underneath. The last thing she needed when seeing all her friends again was to be sweating buckets.

Especially in front of Harry.

She couldn’t remember when he’d first joined their ever-growing group, but she wasn’t going to complain about it. He was nice to look at, which was just about all she ever did because he wasn't a man of many words. All of their conversations burnt out within a couple minutes. She never had any idea what to say to him because frankly, he intimidated her. All of her friends had various connections to Hollywood, but he was most definitely the most famous person she knew. So knowing what to even say to Harry was a whole other obstacle than just simply being acquainted with him.

But she did like to look at him whenever she could get away with it. Particularly when he was chatting with someone else and she obsessed over the way his dimples went in and out of his cheeks every time he smiled. If she wasn’t staring at his face and admiring the freckles or how green his eyes were in the sun, she shamelessly watched his hands. Whether it was while he articulated them in conversation, or while he picked up his sandwich to take another bite, she couldn’t take her eyes away from them.

She wanted nothing more than for him to just have a normal fucking conversation with her like he did with everyone else.

“Hey.” Mel nudged her elbow into Y/N’s side, forcing her eyes away from Harry for the first time in the past three minutes. “Do you want to share a slice of chocolate cake?”

And for the first time since they’d sat down, something other than Harry piqued her interest. With enough sparkle in her eyes to blind someone, Y/N nodded eagerly. “That shouldn’t even be a question.”

Mel shrugged and looked over the dessert menu again to pick out the right slice of chocolate cake between a plain one, one filled with fudge in the middle, and one packed with triple chocolate--whatever that meant.

Trev, who sat beside Harry and right across from Y/N, folded his arms and leaned onto the table, “So Mel, how’s it going with that guy, uh… Alan?”

Mel rolled her eyes but kept them glued to her options of chocolate cakes, “It’s Adam.”

“Does it matter?”

Y/N bit back a smile and sat against her seat, waiting for the typical show between Trev and Mel where he let his jealousy spew out like boiling hot lava and made fun of whatever dude she was seeing all because he was too up his own ass to just ask her out. It was entertaining for the whole table, though, and especially for Y/N.

It was then, in the heat of Mel’s insults about Trev’s own miserable love life, that Y/N and Harry shared a glance, and only a glance because it was so quick, she thought she was imagining things. Just the familiar green of his irises burned into her eyelids was enough to know it wasn’t her mind playing tricks on her. She’d been snickering at the two in front of her when she blinked over at him, possibly because he had already been looking at her. As soon as she did, however, within less than a second he’d looked away. She would take it, and the way it made her entire insides feel like they were being electrocuted, and run with it though. He’d looked at her for the first time all afternoon and she just might gain the courage to try and talk to him again. If he would let her of course.

She thought about their last conversation and how it seemed like centuries ago, but also may have been the reason he hadn’t said a word to her today yet. A smaller portion of their group had gone to LACMA on an off day so it wasn’t as busy. She tried to talk to him about the Diego Rivera painting he’d been standing in front of which he had humorously mistaken for Frida Kahlo. Looking back on it though, she cringed at the way she’d laughed at his mistake because he probably didn’t find it all that funny. He had still laughed right along with her, as his cheeks reddened with embarrassment and he tried to find a quick escape to avoid interacting with her again on their museum trip--which he had done, successfully.

He knew Diego Rivera from Frida Kahlo, though, he wasn’t stupid, but whenever she was around and he had to communicate with her, he turned into a big dumb pile of mush who wouldn’t be able to tell his left foot from his right. He had never been so fucking nervous around someone in his entire life, and so naturally, he no clue what to make of her.

The bickering between Mel and Trev died down when their waitress returned to take dessert orders as a busboy collected dirty dishes. Although dessert was Y/N’s favorite part of every meal, she found herself pouting at the thought of their afternoon passing by a lot quicker than she expected it to.

The topic of discussion shifted once the sweets all arrived and suddenly they were all going on about Tiger King conspiracies that Y/N knew jack shit about, but still listened intently as if she did. She asked a dumb question every once in a while, which made everyone at the table groan in frustration. Eventually, though, they got onto more topics she didn’t understand the references to so she gave up.

Instead, she found herself eyeing Harry’s sampler of various cookies, particularly his painted fingers as he broke off pieces and popped them in his mouth. He had had black nail polish on at some point, but most of it had chipped off by now. The rings he usually wore to excess had dwindled down to just one on his middle finger. She missed them, even though she was sure his poor hands were in desperate need of a break from all the jewelry. His tattoos were on full display now, soaking up all the sun they could after being under long sleeve sweaters all winter. The black ink stood out against his slightly tanned skin, and especially against the red, floral print flowy button up he wore. She felt like it’d been ages since she saw him in something so casual, but they were all headed to the beach soon after all.

“Do you want some?” When she heard his voice, her eyes shot up to his face, realizing she’d been caught. Realizing he was looking at her and speaking to her because she’d been staring at his fucking hands not the cookies.

Since she couldn’t let him know about that, she nodded, “Uh sure.”

She felt even worse about taking a half of a chocolate chip cookie from him when he reached across the table and his poor, beautiful hand collided with her half-full cocktail glass that instantly dumped all over the table. It caught everyone’s attention when the glass broke and quickly Y/N and Trev grabbed napkins to soak up the liquid before it reached their laps while Val saved their plates.

Harry hid his face in his hands after placing the half of a cookie down on his plate again, utterly embarrassed by himself. “I’m so sorry,” He mumbled between his fingers after dragging his hands down his face dramatically to see the mess he’d made.

“Literally the clumsiest fucker I know, you know that?” Trev said while sopping up the rest of her drink and discarding the used napkins on an empty plate. Val called over their waitress once she was close enough to help deal with the broken glass.

“Can I buy you another one?” Harry asked, his cheeks flushed red when she looked at him again and it was definitely not from the sun. He looked embarrassed and apologetic and she was positive he felt stupid because she knew she would in his place, but it made her sad that he thought any of that when it was just a silly mistake.

Harry definitely would not have minded sinking into oblivion right there and then.

“No it’s alright, wasn’t that good of a drink anyways.” She shrugged, easing his nerves just a tad, but he still felt horrible.

“I’ll pay for that one then.” He concluded, not giving her a chance to shoot him down this time, however. And when the checks came long after Harry’s incident that gave him plenty of time to recover, she didn’t have much say in it either when he snatched up her check before the waitress could even hand it to her.

Y/N could easily pay for herself, but if Harry insisted she wasn’t going to argue. It was his way of feeling better about the situation and she’d leave it be, even if it did bug her that he said he’d pay for her drink, not her entire bill. She kept her mouth shut, however, and just gave him a mean look so at least he knew she wasn’t happy about it, even if she had no intentions to stop him.

She escaped to the restroom while everyone wrapped up, knowing she’d have to go the second she got near the ocean later and she did not want to use the disgusting public bathrooms at the beach. They were always full of sand, salty water, and smelled ten times fishier than normal.

Her confidence was at an all time high when she looked in the mirror, wondering if it had been the sun or Harry to do it to her, but either way it really didn’t matter. She felt like she was on a cloud and like nothing could touch her or bring her back down.

Except, of course, when she walked back out to reality and realized everyone had already made their ways to the Malibu coastline. Sighing, she pulled her phone from her little crossbody bag and walked towards the main entrance. Before she got too far into her Uber app, she glanced up at a familiar shade of bright red floral print standing near the doors and instantly floated back up to the clouds.

“Did everyone leave?” She asked once she walked up to Harry. He held onto a cardboard box of leftovers in one hand and his keys in the other. His sunglasses, that were previously perched on the neck of his shirt, had made their way to the top of his head, pushing his hair back from his face.

He nodded. “I, um… I didn’t know if you had a ride, or...?” He stumbled and she wasn’t sure why, but it was cute nonetheless, especially since she initially had the impression that Harry would be a little more self-assured than he was turning out to be. That was what she liked best about him though, that he tripped over his words and confused artists and spilled drinks.

She held up her phone in her hands and smiled, “I’m getting an Uber.”

He furrowed his brows, but she didn’t notice when she resumed picking out the cheapest option on the app to take her down PCH as she maneuvered around him and stepped back out into the warm summer afternoon.

He followed quickly, nearly tripping over himself and then cleared his throat, “Well, um, I’ve got a car.”

She paused, glancing at him over her shoulder while she narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “What kind of car?”

He had no clue why she’d asked him that, but given the little smirk on her lips, he had an inkling that if he didn’t have the right kind of car, she’d prefer to stick with her Uber options. What he was positive about, however, was that he’d never liked her more than he did right there in the parking lot as she planned on roasting his choice of transportation.

“Uhm...” He glanced around the lot until he found his car and then pointed it out, “that one.”

Her eyes fell to a bright yellow, convertible 1972 Ferrari Dino and she tried her best to not let him see the way her jaw practically hit the asphalt beneath their flip flops. Instead, she swallowed, stood up straight, faced him, and put her phone away.

“That will do.”

The surface streets were quiet, even though she’d forced him to put the top down while they drove. They were boring, too. She wanted to throw her hands up and feel the air between her fingers and flowing through her hair. Instead, they were stuck at every single red light imaginable on the short trip it took to get to the highway.

“How long have you had this car?” She asked once they’d stopped again, making herself at home in his passenger seat as she rested her elbow up on the door where the window would normally be if she hadn’t rolled it down the second he started the engine.

“Mm,” He thought, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and index finger while his other hand clung tightly to the top of the steering wheel, enough so that she could see the whites of his knuckles. Was he nervous? Did he not like to drive with the top down? Or did he just not like to drive with her constantly staring at him?

“Couple years probably,” he answered finally while adjusting the radio to turn some music on and she took that as her cue to leave him alone. Maybe he was nervous because he liked to focus on the road while driving and not on her silly questions.

They got up to about twenty-miles-an-hour now while he flipped through stations, his eyes bouncing between the console and the road. He tuned the radio until she wrapped her hand around his forearm.

“Sorry, I just,” she let go of him after he gave her a look, one that she couldn’t quite read. He could have been mad at her for touching him for all she knew. “I really like this song.”

He moved both hands to the steering wheel as he sat back into his seat. He’d never heard the song before, but if she liked it then he’d leave it on. They drove for a bit longer until he heard her softly singing along and glanced over at her. He’d only meant to look for less than a second, but when she met his gaze, he got a little too distracted.

Her eyes darted out the windshield and her sudden, “Harry!” caused him to slam on the breaks, luckily just seconds before he managed to rear-end a Honda Civic. He was positive his hunk of metal would have done quite some damage.

“Shit,” he muttered, running his hand through his hair to shift it back into place as his heart raced a million miles.

Then, of course, it was racing for other reasons when he heard her giggling from beside him and once he was done freaking out, he joined in. He was such a fucking idiot but it apparently had made her laugh, so… silver lining?

Once they were on the highway, he no longer felt as tense. The wind from the ocean beside them blew his hair in every direction as he got up to the speed of traffic and she watched his hands as they shifted gears. She let her eyes, and her mind, wander while staring at his tattooless arm and the way the muscles flexed under his skin. It gave her that dangerous self-confidence all over again.

He heard her seatbelt click and immediately shot his eyes over to see what the actual fuck she was doing taking it off while he was going over sixty miles an hour. An all new reason to be anxious filled his entire nervous system as he watched her, through various quick glances, standing up in his passenger seat with no care in the world about flying out. As if he hadn’t already nearly caused an accident, here she was trusting him enough not to do it again.

Her skirt flew up in the breeze but she didn’t really care too much about that either, and neither did Harry. When she finally managed to peel her hands off the windshield, she threw them up and shouted at the top of her lungs, forcing nothing but a huge cheesy grin onto Harry’s face even though he wanted to pull over and kick her out for doing what she was doing and nearly giving him an aneurism.

She sat back down within seconds though, and his blood pressure settled at a more normal pace when she had her seatbelt secured around herself again.

“Wouldn’t have offered you a ride had I know you were going to do that!” He shouted over the sound of the wind.

“I’m in a Ferrari on PCH, you should have expected it!”

He shook his head at her as he glanced over his shoulder to switch lanes and make his off-ramp. She was fucking nuts. And he was a fucking idiot.

They sat in the parking lot together for a moment, staring out at the ocean, after he put the top up, closed the windows, and cut the engine. She was still coming down off of whatever high possessed her to stand up mid-freeway and he was trying not to act like a complete fool being alone with her again where it was quiet and they weren’t moving anymore.

“How come we never talk much?” She asked him before either of them could even think about getting out of the car and joining their friends down on the sand.

He stared straight ahead at the waves for a moment as he thought about why they weren’t as close as he wished they were and that it might be his fault. He just never knew what to say to her to not completely embarrass himself. Within the past hour, it was clear he still hadn’t figured it out.

He sighed, “Probably because you stand up in cars and make me nervous.” He didn’t realize, however, how his words would be twisted until she did so.

“Oh, so we don’t talk because I make you nervous?” She teased with a smirk but she clearly had no idea how right she was about that. Or maybe she did have some idea about it.

Either way, he tensed up realizing he had, yet again, said some dumb shit and went and embarrassed himself again.

“I’m kidding,” she assured when he remained quiet, “I just think we should talk more.” She fidgeted with the hem of her dress and it most definitely did not go unnoticed by Harry. “Then maybe one day you’ll let me drive your Ferrari and you can stand up.”

The breeze dropped several degrees as they walked through the sand to their friends, who were already set up with a few chairs and an ice chest full of wine coolers. It was a nice relief from the burning afternoon sun, but Y/N still regretted not packing a sweater.

As they walked together, someone made a whistling sound at them as if suggesting something had happened with her and Harry between the time it took them to get from the restaurant to the beach. It made him uneasy when everyone looked at them like they were amidst a walk of shame, and even more so when he glanced down at her to his side to see she was also slightly uncomfortable.

“What took you two so long?” Trev asked the second she and Harry reached their little set up. Everyone was already either taking their clothes off to run into the ocean, or securing their spots in the warm sand, nursing a bottle or two of alcohol.

Y/N squared her shoulders, “Harry almost caused an accident.”

His head whipped towards her so fast, he was sure he pulled a muscle in his neck. It was one thing for her to know about his dumbassery, but everyone else didn’t have to be in on it too.

A couple of their friends giggled, making Harry scratch at the back of his neck nervously, shaking out his curls and hoping they didn’t all think he was the biggest imbecile alive for not knowing how to drive a car like that. Especially since he did know how to drive, his brain just didn't function the way it was supposed to when Y/N was around.

“Or maybe,” Trev leaned in suggestively glancing between the both of them before settling his eyes on Y/N, “Harry finally won you over with his Ferrari.”

She scrunched her face, trying to figure out what the fuck Trev meant by finally? Harry never tried winning her over at any point in the past. Hell, before today she had been afraid that he hated her, wondering tirelessly what she did to get on Harry Styles’ bad side.

When she glanced at Harry, she was relieved to find that he seemed just about as confused as she was. So it was just Trev being a slimy asshole as per usual.

She rolled her eyes and shoved Trev’s shoulder as she walked past him, eliciting an overly dramatic response as he held his shoulder like a ginormous baby and called her a bitch under his breath.

Both Harry and Trev watched as she lifted her dress over her head, tossed it and her purse into a chair full of other people’s clothes, and flashed Trev her middle finger while she glanced over her shoulder at him. Before she ran off to the water, however, her eyes found Harry just in time to see the way his eyes flickered back up to her face. She smiled knowingly at him just before taking off, hoping his gaze would find its way to her backside again as she did so.

And frankly, her bathing suit didn’t leave too much to the imagination. It was all held together with strings that could come undone with just a single tug from Harry’s hands. Her bottoms were definitely cheeky and her top… Harry should not be looking.

But he was, he constantly found his eyes gravitating towards her as he sat beside Trev on land while she played in the water with the others. He also found his fists clenching whenever one of the other guys in their group got a little too close. He should also not be jealous.

“You know,” Trev began, sitting back against his seat and resting his wine cooler on his knee, “we all know you’re infatuated with her…” Harry turned to look at Trev like he was insane, “except for her of course. Probably because you act like an idiot around her and she thinks there’s something seriously wrong with you.”

Harry really couldn’t disagree. He did act like he only had a handful of brain cells sometimes, but in his defense, he didn’t do it on purpose. He had no clue why he couldn’t operate properly whenever she was around. No one had ever done that to him, not a single person he ever found remotely attractive turned him into a helpless ball of nerves the way she did.

Sighing, Harry stared out at the horizon through his tinted sunglasses and mumbled grumpily. “Maybe a little bit.”

“Knew you were too good to be true,” Trev teased, assuming Harry was referring to there being something seriously wrong with him rather than being maybe a little bit infatuated with her.

Harry shook his head with an exasperated smile on his lips, “You’re a cunt.”

“Listen man,” Trev sat forward again, taking a swig of his drink, “She’s fucking insane sometimes, but if you like her…” He shrugged.

“How insane is she, exactly?” Harry asked, although he already had an inkling given her earlier actions in his car.

Trev snorted out a laugh, “Not like that. She’s just like… I don’t know. Does crazy shit. She was the first one to jump off this huge ass cliff when we went diving a few summers ago.” Trev reminisced fondly before laughing again when he recalled something else Y/N had done. “She got drunk off her ass at New Years and did a handstand in the middle of Gasolina.”

Although Harry didn’t know what Gasolina was, he still imagined how fucking hilarious that party must’ve been. She was the good kind of crazy, he assumed, not the kind that might chop off his fingers in his sleep.

“Besides, all she does is work and hang out with her dog.” Trev added, leaving Harry to wonder profusely about what kind of dog she had. He considered a dachshund at first, but maybe a chihuahua was more her speed.

“Anyways,” Trev sighed, settling into his seat again, “I just think you should stop acting like a twelve-year old and ask her out if you like her.”

Harry’s brows furrowed again, “Maybe you should take your own advice.”

He watched as Trev’s eyes landed right on Mel, who had her arms around Y/N’s shoulders as they descended further into the ocean, and he sighed even deeper this time. “That’s way more complicated than the two of you.”

He never would have offered her a ride, no matter how much he liked her, when she’d first came up from the water and threw her dress back on. She was a wet, hot mess for a long while until they all packed up after they watched the sun set and it started getting dark. There was no way he was leaving her there to wait for an Uber by herself, however, once they’d gotten everything packed up into the back of Trev’s Jeep.

Not that she was pulling her phone out to scroll through the app or asking anyone else for a ride.

So, she wound up in his passenger seat again, staring at the sky as it mixed through various shades of peaches and purples until it turned a dark blue color and the stars started coming out as he drove. They listened to some oldies station while heading north on PCH and she never stopped looking at how beautiful the world was around her, especially the part of the world that sat right next to her as he drove silently with his sunglasses on top of his head again. He was cute when he focused, she thought.

When he reached her driveway, she really didn’t want him to leave yet. She’d even considered taking him the long way to her house and hoping he wouldn’t notice just to spend more time with him. She stared up at the stars still while they sat idly in her front yard until she looked over at Harry with a smile and he met her eyes curiously.

“Do you wanna meet my dog?”

She shivered as she closed the door behind Harry, locking it before returning her attention back to him. Seeing him planted into the familiar backdrop of her house felt weird, but it also swelled her stomach with a million butterflies.

“I’m gonna change real quick. The living room’s through there,” she pointed and he followed, “you can make yourself at home.”

While she disappeared up the stairs, he wandered hesitantly, removing his shoes before he walked onto the carpet in her living room. He sat down in the corner of her loveseat, taking in all the surroundings. Her house was nice and he thought about what she did for a living, trying to remember if it had ever come up in conversations before. He didn’t get too far lost in his thoughts and his wandering eyes when there was a sudden bang on the back door behind him followed quickly by loud and incessant barking.

When he looked out the windows that faced her backyard he realized she did not, in fact, have a dachshund or a chihuahua. She had a fucking pitbull.

Possibly even more fitting, and slightly less scarier than the chihuahua.

“Sorry,” she ran in the living room just then, in a pair of lounge shorts and a loose-fitting long sleeve, and went straight to the back door, “I promise Patrick’s not as mean as he sounds.”

“Patrick like… from Spongebob?” Harry asked as she unlocked the back door to let him in.

She grinned like Harry was the first one to automatically get the reference without her having to explain it, “He was a little bit dumb as a puppy.” She shrugged and opened the door and the tan-colored pitbull ran straight towards Harry, jumping on the couch and into his lap like they were already the best of friends.

Patrick got about ten licks to Harry’s poor face before Y/N got a hand in between and tried pulling the stubborn dog away. She apologized again and even though Harry assured her that it was okay, he still seemed highly uncomfortable. When she moved, hoping Patrick would stop molesting Harry with his tongue, she’d been horribly wrong and he went back in for more and Harry was far too polite to do anything about it himself besides making feeble attempts at pushing Patrick away awkwardly.

So, instead, she ran around the couch and pulled him off of Harry, squeezing herself between him and her dog. While Harry wiped off his face, she turned toward him once Patrick had settled down, “I swear he’s trained, he just… forgets boundaries sometimes.” She said the last bit through her teeth, directed specifically at Patrick while petting the dog on the head. He just continued to stare past her at Harry, panting and wagging his tail.

“It’s alright, I don’t mind.” Harry assured her again. He really didn’t mind. Maybe a little, but it wasn’t the end of the world to have too much attention from a dog. Especially if it was her dog.

It was quiet for a moment before she perked up like she’d just remembered something, “Oh, do you want something to drink? I forgot to ask before.”

Harry didn’t really want her to leave just yet, but on the other hand, he desperately wanted her to. He could feel the nervous sweat on his forehead and his clammy hands and he just needed a moment to collect himself. So he nodded, “Sure,” and she bounced back up onto her feet and left him alone with Patrick.

While Harry had successfully wiped the sweat from his face on the back of his shirt and his hands on his jeans--and cupped said hand over his mouth to check his breath-- Patrick scooted right up to Harry’s side, curled into a ball, and rested his head on Harry’s lap. Which was the exact sight Y/N returned to moments later with a couple glasses of water in her hands.

“Guess he likes you, then.” She laughed lightly while handing one of the glasses to Harry and sat down on the other side of Patrick. It was a gap bigger than the one between them previously, but Harry was okay with that. Maybe he’d stop sweating so profusely from just being in her presence.

They were quiet again, but not for too long that it ever got awkward. Harry was sure, at this point, that Y/N was a professional at avoiding awkward silences with the way she said the most random shit right out of the blue.

“Do you like stand up?”

He looked at her like he had no clue what the fuck she was talking about, but in hindsight he should have known. In the moment, though, when she caught him off-guard, he literally could not fathom in his brain what she meant by stand up. So he just shrugged and mumbled, “I guess?”

She didn’t seem to notice his enormous brain fart when she reached forward to grab the remote from the coffee table a little too excitedly. And once she turned on Netflix and searched for John Mulaney, it clicked in his head. Maybe Trev had been right. Harry might just have something slightly wrong with him.

He’d never personally seen any of Mulaney’s stand up, but he’d heard the name and when Y/N mumbled that he was one of her favorite comedians, that’s all he needed to know about the guy. Harry would sit through hours of his stand up if it meant spending more time with her.

John Mulaney had already gotten a few giggles out of Harry within the first five minutes of The Comeback Kid and every single time it happened, Y/N glanced at him proudly as if she were the one telling the jokes and making Harry laugh.

She felt even more full of herself when John’s punchline about exes came seven minutes in and Harry nearly laughed his entire ass off at, ‘Anyone who’s seen my dick and met my parents needs to die.’

Actually, she was certain he’d done some damage to his body when Harry laughed so hard that he held a hand to his stomach, doubled over on the couch and choked on his own spit. She tried not to laugh at his reaction as she sat forward and grabbed his glass of water off the coffee table to hand it to him.

Her movements caused Patrick to get up and jump off of the couch, settling for a cool spot on the hardwood floors to stretch out on as he panted. Harry sipped on his water until he could breathe properly again.

“It’s okay,” she reassured him, “the dick jokes get me every time too.” Although she intended for it to make him feel better, his cheeks just burned twice as hot from the way she said dick so nonchalantly.

“Are there more dick jokes then?” He asked.

“There’s always more dick jokes to be made.” She confirmed, making him chuckle again. “So you’ll stay and laugh at them with me?”

He wasn’t sure at what point she’d gotten so close to him on the couch, but when she laughed and he felt her shoulder shake against his own, he quickly tensed up. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her closer, he just didn’t want to act like a complete fool again. And his reaction to just her touching his shoulder was enough to tell him foolery was on the horizon.

He also wasn’t sure when it became a given that he was staying to watch all of the John Mulaney specials on Netflix with her, but he wasn’t complaining. As long as he got to hear her laugh and imitate some of the jokes and weird voices John did, he was happy staying exactly where he was all night and, in fact, when she announced they’d burned through all of them, he was disappointed.

Even more so when she flipped the TV off and he wondered how much longer until she planned on saying goodbye and then who knows how long until they’d see each other again.

It was quiet, apart from Patrick’s snores, but not for long.

“I’m sorry I stood up in your car and made you nervous.”

He turned and met her eyes and she was very clearly not sorry about it, but he didn’t want her to be either. “S’alright.”

They stared at each other for a moment while he thought about what else she was going to say, if anything at all. But he should have known better than to assume she didn’t have anything else up her sleeve.

It was just that the next time she spoke there wasn’t the perpetual cute little grin on her face. Instead, she met him with a frown. “To be honest, Harry, I kinda thought you hated me before today.”

He scrunched his face, absolutely detesting that she ever thought that at all. “I don’t hate you.” He said it like it was the most ridiculous thing he’d ever heard.

She tilted her head to the side while she looked at him and then gave him a reason why it wasn’t that ridiculous of an assumption on her part. “Then why do you always avoid me?”

He felt bad about the way he acted around her, especially since she had the wrong impression about it. He didn’t avoid her, he just didn’t know how to talk to her when he always acted like a neanderthal around her.

Sighing, he shuffled a bit in his seat as the anxious sweats really made themselves known. “You were right when you said we don’t talk because you make me nervous.”

She grew more confused by that, “You’re literally Harry Styles, how do I make you nervous?”

He shrugged, “Been trying to figure it out myself.”

Although he’d been avoiding her gaze like the plague, sure that he’d never be admitting any of this to her while looking right into her eyes, she still smiled sweetly at him. He was Harry fucking Styles, who got up on a stage more times than she could imagine and sang in front of thousands of people, but she made him nervous.

She took him off guard again. “Are you seeing anyone right now, Harry?”

His eyes quickly panned to her, wide and puzzled by her question. “No… wh--”

She didn’t give him a chance to finish after she’d gotten the only answer she wanted out of him and suddenly she was a lot closer than she’d ever been. In fact, there was no longer a single gap between them as she reached her hand up to his jaw and pulled his mouth down onto hers. Even though he didn’t know how to react at first, feeling her on his lips, his brain swelled with all the good kinds of chemical reactions and he kissed her back, wiping his hand on his jeans again before he touched it to the side of her face, cupping her cheek in his palm softly.

Normally, he’d be the one making the first move, but he didn’t really mind it being the other way around with her. Who knows if they ever would have gotten to this point if they’d waited for him to make the first move, after all.

He definitely didn’t mind it when she swiped her tongue across his lower lip and positioned herself into his lap. His head had fallen back into the cushions while she straddled him and got a little too carried away, but, again, he didn’t mind it. He fed off of her energy until he was slipping hesitant hands down her waist and on her backside, making her moan into his mouth that both felt and sounded like heaven.

Heaven. He was in heaven and this completely bizarre angel was in his lap, making out with him on her couch and rubbing herself all up on him in ways that were so very unheavenly.

Neither of their dopamine infused brains registered the sound of Patrick’s collar when it was vastly more important to focus on the way she giggled around his mouth and how his tongue felt swirling around with hers.

However, when he jumped up on the couch beside them and began licking Y/N’s face, she snapped back to reality for a moment. Pulling away from Harry with a whine, she sat back on his knees and wiped the slobber with the back of her hand while she stared over at Patrick.

“Can I help you?”

Patrick did some whining of his own while he dug his paw towards her, begging for attention. So she gave it to him, petting his head and scratching his ears while Harry watched, still very aware of his hands on her hips and her free hand leaning on his shoulder.

“Crazy dog,” she muttered mostly to herself while Patrick laid down next to them.

“Like his owner,” Harry teased, mostly just to bring her attention back to him.

It worked too as she pinged her eyes back to Harry as fast as humanly possible and faked offense, “You think I’m crazy?”

“You asked me to meet your dog and then somehow hooked me into staying for three hours to watch John Mulaney specials and then completely out of nowhere… ended up here.” He nodded his head down at their current positioning with her still perched on his lap.

It took her a moment, but she fully realized what she had done soon enough. And once she did, she was quick to apologize. “Shit, Harry, I’m sorry. I didn’t meant to--”

Before she managed to get much further away from him in failed attempts of removing her foolish self from his lap, he grabbed hold of her wrists and brought her hands up to either side of his head, pulling her as close as she’d been before with just an inch or so gap between their lips this time.

“I think that’s why you make me nervous,” He admitted softly and after glancing between both her wary eyes, his gaze landed on her lips just moments before he stretched upwards to meet them with his again.

They fell back into place completely, except this time, she’d gone as far as to undo all the buttons on his shirt while she made out with him on her couch. Once it was open and she had full range of his chest, she pulled away from him again and watched his body rise and fall quickly as he caught his breath. She traced her fingertips over his butterfly tattoo, and like magic formed a few of them in his stomach while he watched her through heavy eyelids.

When their eyes met again, she smiled excitedly. “Does this mean I can drive your car now?”

#100% rewatched the comeback kid in the middle fo writing this jnjvf #but im really happy and proud with how it turned out so im excited!!#kinda longer than i expected it to be but oh well #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #shy!harry

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hrtiu · 4 years ago

Note

I saw your post about wanting to write for rexsoka! I love your fics btw! I would like to request some fluff involving laughter and maybe teasing someone.

Thank you so much! Here’s what I got. It gets a little sad at the end, but hopefully it still counts?? Thank you for the prompt!

Rex knocked on the durasteel door frame, announcing his presence to the ladies chatting in the Ghost’s mess beyond.

“Ahem, Ahsoka? I could use your help with something.”

“Wait a second, you’re not going to steal her away for the rest of the day, are you?” Hera said from where she sat across from Ahsoka at the table. “She was my spymaster first.”

“It’ll be quick, I promise,” Rex said.

Ahsoka chuckled as she got to her feet, waving her hands in a placating manner. “Alright, alright. Don’t worry, there’s plenty of me to go around. I’ll be right back, Hera, and we can go over those bomber schematics you somehow managed to get your hands on.”

Hera eagerly agreed, waving goodbye before getting distracted by an irate Chopper beeping something about the hyperdrive and teenage boys.

“What is it?” Ahsoka asked as she walked by Rex’s side out into the dusty, organized chaos of Chopper Base.

Rex scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment. “Well, there’s this broadcasting beacon, see? We use it to communicate with other cells off-planet, but its motivator was damaged in a recent dust storm. I wanted to replace it but it’s really high up and hard to get to, and I figured since you’re here…”

Ahsoka stopped walking, placing a hand on her hip as her eyebrow markings rose into her headdress. “You want me to throw you?”

Rex flushed, turning away from her and shaking his head. “Never mind, it’s a stupid idea.”

“No, no, it’s just not something I ever expected you to ask me to do.”

“Well, I never really liked it, but if you could control the throw and land me on the maintenance platform I wouldn’t have to risk my neck on that sorry piece of scrap we call an extension ladder.”

“I knew it. For as much as you complained about Anakin throwing you around, you liked it when we did that.”

Rex rounded on her, unable to resist defending himself in the face of such slander. “I did not! It was terrifying, unnecessary, and demeaning!”

“But you want me to do it again. Just admit it, Rex. You’ve been missing excitement in your life,” Ahsoka said, that smug look she’d perfected in her teens on her face.

Rex couldn’t help but laugh. Since they’d been reunited she’d seemed so changed—so solemn and galaxy-weary. It was good to see her back to her cocky, impertinent self, if only for the moment.

“I’ve been missing you, that’s for sure.”

Ahsoka laughed, a hand coming up to cover her mouth. Rex could have sworn that her lekku shifted to a darker shade of blue, but that had to be his imagination.

“Alright then, where’s this maintenance platform you were talking about?”

Rex led her to the long metal pole several stories tall upon which the broadcasting beacon perched, and she waited while he went to get his repair tools. By the time he came back their little stunt had gained a small audience, Ezra, Zeb, and several pilots gathering round to witness Rex’s embarrassment.

“Now you’ll know what it feels like to be tossed about!” Zeb said, apparently still smarting from his turn as joopa bait.

“Is this even a proper use of the Force?” Ezra asked. “Isn’t it sort of… disrespectful?”

Ahsoka held her head high as she glided over to Rex, her more mature demeanor back now that she was in front of others. “The Force is a tool that is best used to help people. Nothing is beneath the Force, so long as it’s for a good purpose.”

“Hmmm, I guess that makes sense.”

Rex cinched his tool belt around his waist, a little alarmed that he had to loosen a notch further than he used to, then stood at the ready. He bent his knees and braced himself, glowering at Ahsoka as she noticed his nerves and smirked again.

“Ready?” she asked.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Ahsoka raised her hand out to Rex, then jerked it upwards. He flew into the air much faster than he’d envisaged, though just as he feared he’d overshoot the maintenance platform his velocity slowed. He breathed a sigh of relief as, from far below, Ahsoka landed him gently onto the platform.

“All good?” she shouted up at him from the ground.

He leaned over the edge and waved down at her. “Yep! I’ll just be a minute!”

He got to work replacing the motivator, his fingers working quickly from many years of experience holding the rusting AT-TE he called home together. The hot sun beat down on him and he wiped his brow, though he could do nothing about the sweat trickling down his back. Eventually he finished his repairs, taking out his transponder to double-check that the beacon was working before leaning back over the edge and waving to get Ahsoka’s attention.

“All done up here!” he yelled. “Care to lend a hand?”

Ahsoka looked up at him, blessedly alone now that their audience had grown tired of waiting, and waved back. “Just jump down. I’ll catch you!”

Rex had known this was coming, but he still wasn’t looking forward to it. He may have only lived 27 years, but his body was well into his middle age. It wasn’t quite as forgiving to him of dangerous stunts and constant misuse.

Ahsoka kept waving from down below and Rex dismissed his fears. Ahsoka knew him and she wouldn’t let any harm come to him, even anything as minor as a twisted ankle or a sore knee. He gritted his teeth and took a leap of faith off the platform.

Air rushed past his ears and his beard flattened against his chin, but soon enough his fall slowed. By the time he reached the ground he was floating gently, his feet barely registering when they met solid ground in front of a grinning Ahsoka.

“Enjoy the ride?” she asked.

Rex laughed. “It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, I guess.”

“See? You can trust me, Rexter.”

Rex’s grin grew at the old nickname. He’d never really liked it, truth be told. What young man with aspirations for martial greatness wanted such a silly nickname? But after not hearing for so long, and coming from the friend he’d thought long lost? He’d take it any day.

“I knew I could trust you, I just wasn’t looking forward to getting thrown around like a rag doll in front of my colleagues. I’m trying to look good in front of them, you know?” he said with a laugh.

Ahsoka started walking back to the Ghost, no doubt to resume her conversation with Hera. She looked back over her shoulder as she walked, her burgundy lips quirked upwards in a devious smile. “I don’t know, I like a man I can toss around.”

She turned her head back around and sauntered off, and Rex’s jaw dropped.

She couldn’t… she couldn’t have meant… Was she flirting with me?

He stared after her retreating form—he could swear her hips were swaying—his brain uncomprehending. They’d known each other for so long, and there was nobody he trusted like Ahsoka. And she was obviously beautiful, and funny, and kind. Was it possible…?

Rex looked down at his hands, the wrinkles and sunspots seeming deeper and darker than normal, the callouses thick and the scars numerous. No, she was just teasing. She was young and vibrant and had her whole life ahead of her, it wouldn’t make sense for her to waste it with an old soldier like Rex. Not to mention he didn’t even know what her stance on the Jedi’s rules was anymore. Any kind of romance might not be an option for her, which was probably why she was so comfortable making silly jokes. No chance they could be misconstrued. Right?

Rex made his way back to his quarters in a daze, his surroundings registering as hyper-realistic even as he barely noticed them. It really didn’t make any difference, since he and Ahsoka would continue as friends just as they’d always been, but now Rex’s interactions with her would be colored by this new knowledge. The knowledge that, if there ever was anyone for Rex, it would be her.

#rexsoka #ask #fanfic #captain rex #ahsoka tano #the clone wars #tcw #star wars rebels #rexsoka renaissance

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nessarolla-in-constant-flux · 4 years ago

Text

Alright these are my thoughts on @dreammirmir post on the Yato situation.

🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛

°The aging up characters stuff.

You may disagree with me which is fine but I don't see it as a problem. They are 2d fictional characters with no self awareness what so ever. I am able to separate fiction from reality as I am not attracted to teenagers who are actual human beings who can be hurt and taken advantage of.

On this stance I've held it for a long time.

Not to mention My Hero Academia is a Flash Back from Izuku's perspective as they are all adults now, as well as for Haikyuu characters where they actually get to be in their 20s and in college in canon. Cece in her audios never mentions Highschool and always mentions how they are Pro Heros (for my hero) and in College (for Haikyuu) and I know this because I have been a listener since almost the beginning.

I find it silly that people harp on stuff like this with Cece, when fanfiction is a thing. On this I will not change.

I myself am almost reaching 30 and I am still in love with characters from my teens. Does that make me wrong? Does that make me disgusting? I don't think so. I will continue to age and they will stay forever the same which is why I feel the way I do about this. It doesn't matter because they're 2d. A piece of media and nothing more.

°On Cece disapearing.

Try to put yourself in her shoes for a moment. You're a tiny youtuber in a niche market for a year and then suddenly BOOM you explode in popularity over the course of 2020! Your Patreon is taking off, people are looking up to you, your in charge of a whole community, the moneys coming in, things are nuts! On top of that you have people taking advantage of you, fucking up the discord, making drama here and there and people who come over just to hate on you for what you do and all of this happens in one year. I would want to dissappear for a bit to and get my thoughts together. Not to mention her own mental health, her own depression. Thats a lot for one person to take on. Just because she's an adult doesn't mean she's immune to hate.

°Now the a.k.a. grooming and victim

Those discord chats don't look like grooming. They look like two people, that if you didn't know they're ages, would just be shooting the shit.

Now I might be wrong to some people but I am also of the mind that if the person thinks something is shady they should have known better. I'm not victim blaming, I'm just saying it's common sense. And sure every teen is different but I would like to give the benefit of the doubt that they are smarter than I was at their age.

To me these allegations look like a twisting of the narrative presented.

Again just my thoughts.

°And lastly her content

As long as I've been listening Cece's gone out of her way to educate herself when something she does or says on her audios triggers her listeners. She's never malicious with her content and goes out of her way to post trigger warnings in her descriptions. Now if people ignore those it's on them. They can't order a jalapeno pizza and then complain that it's too spicy.

On top of that she made the patreon to keep her spiciest audios behind a pay wall as well as age restrict her content against minors. She can't police the entire community and putting that sort of responsibility on one person is ridiculous.

If under age people are getting to her things it's on them not Cece.

Yes they should be careful on what they watch and listen too because they be too young but you can't hold that over someone like it's they're fault when they've done what they can.

Is it South Parks fault that I watched them at 12? Nope. Maybe my parents but certainly not South Park on their end.

°Random thought

I personally didn't find anything wrong with the Fatgum audio and I'm not saying this because I'm biased. If it made you personally uncomfortable than I'm sorry it did.

I don't know how old you are but we don't know anything at 20 let alone 30. People can make mistakes and she apologized for them. Her changing her name and discreetly apologizing to the "victim" is her business and as much as we want to know about it thats not up to us. They're allowed privacy on both ends and anyone trying to dox either of them is an asshole.

💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡💛🧡

I may have missed a couple of things here and there but over all these are my thoughts on everything I have the brainpower to think of right now. Call me naive, call me blind but I believe in Cece. I'm not trying to change anyones mind because sometimes people's minds are made up and that's fine. I just want people to see the different perspectives is all.

Thank you for reading. Stay safe, love you lots and hope everyone has a nice day.

Also feel free to message me about anything anytime.🧡💛

#yagami yato #yato #gummy bears #my hero academia #haikyuu!!#pro hero fatgum #toyomitsu taishiro

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hellomynameisbisexual · 4 years ago

Text

Here's a shortlist of those who realized that I — a cis woman who'd identified as heterosexual for decades of life — was in fact actually bi, long before I realized it myself recently: my sister, all my friends, my boyfriend, and the TikTok algorithm.

On TikTok, the relationship between user and algorithm is uniquely (even sometimes uncannily) intimate. An app which seemingly contains as many multitudes of life experiences and niche communities as there are people in the world, we all start in the lowest common denominator of TikTok. Straight TikTok (as it's popularly dubbed) initially bombards your For You Page with the silly pet videos and viral teen dances that folks who don't use TikTok like to condescendingly reduce it to.

Quickly, though, TikTok begins reading your soul like some sort of divine digital oracle, prying open layers of your being never before known to your own conscious mind. The more you use it, the more tailored its content becomes to your deepest specificities, to the point where you get stuff that's so relatable that it can feel like a personal attack (in the best way) or (more dangerously) even a harmful trigger from lifelong traumas.

For example: I don't know what dark magic (read: privacy violations) immediately clued TikTok into the fact that I was half-Brazilian, but within days of first using it, Straight TikTok gave way to at first Portuguese-speaking then broader Latin TikTok. Feeling oddly seen (being white-passing and mostly American-raised, my Brazilian identity isn't often validated), I was liberal with the likes, knowing that engagement was the surefire way to go deeper down this identity-affirming corner of the social app.

TikTok made lots of assumptions from there, throwing me right down the boundless, beautiful, and oddest multiplicities of Alt TikTok, a counter to Straight TikTok's milquetoast mainstreamness.

Home to a wide spectrum of marginalized groups, I was giving out likes on my FYP like Oprah, smashing that heart button on every type of video: from TikTokers with disabilities, Black and Indigenous creators, political activists, body-stigma-busting fat women, and every glittering shade of the LGBTQ cornucopia. The faves were genuine, but also a way to support and help offset what I knew about the discriminatory biases in TikTok's algorithm.

My diverse range of likes started to get more specific by the minute, though. I wasn't just on general Black TikTok anymore, but Alt Cottagecore Middle-Class Black Girl TikTok (an actual label one creator gave her page's vibes). Then it was Queer Latina Roller Skating Girl TikTok, Women With Non-Hyperactive ADHD TikTok, and then a double whammy of Women Loving Women (WLW) TikTok alternating between beautiful lesbian couples and baby bisexuals.

Looking back at my history of likes, the transition from queer “ally” to “salivating simp” is almost imperceptible.

There was no one precise "aha" moment. I started getting "put a finger down" challenges that wouldn't reveal what you were putting a finger down for until the end. Then, 9-fingers deep (winkwink), I'd be congratulated for being 100% bisexual. Somewhere along the path of getting served multiple WLW Disney cosplays in a single day and even dom lesbian KinkTok roleplay — or whatever the fuck Bisexual Pirate TikTok is — deductive reasoning kind of spoke for itself.

But I will never forget the one video that was such a heat-seeking missile of a targeted attack that I was moved to finally text it to my group chat of WLW friends with a, "Wait, am I bi?" To which the overwhelming consensus was, "Magic 8 Ball says, 'Highly Likely.'"

Serendipitously posted during Pride Month, the video shows a girl shaking her head at the caption above her head, calling out confused and/or closeted queers who say shit like, "I think everyone is a LITTLE bisexual," to the tune of "Closer" by The Chainsmokers. When the lyrics land on the word "you," she points straight at the screen — at me — her finger and inquisitive look piercing my hopelessly bisexual soul like Cupid's goddamn arrow.

Oh no, the voice inside my head said, I have just been mercilessly perceived.

As someone who had, in fact, done feminist studies at a tiny liberal arts college with a gender gap of about 70 percent women, I'd of course dabbled. I've always been quick to bring up the Kinsey scale, to champion a true spectrum of sexuality, and to even declare (on multiple occasions) that I was, "straight, but would totally fuck that girl!"

Oh no, the voice inside my head returned, I've literally just been using extra words to say I was bi.

After consulting the expertise of my WLW friend group (whose mere existence, in retrospect, also should've clued me in on the flashing neon pink, purple, and blue flag of my raging bisexuality), I ran to my boyfriend to inform him of the "news."

"Yeah, baby, I know. We all know," he said kindly.

"How?!" I demanded.

Well for one, he pointed out, every time we came across a video of a hot girl while scrolling TikTok together, I'd without fail watch the whole way through, often more than once, regardless of content. (Apparently, straight girls do not tend to do this?) For another, I always breathlessly pointed out when we'd pass by a woman I found beautiful, often finding a way to send a compliment her way. ("I'm just a flirt!" I used to rationalize with a hand wave, "Obvs, I'm not actually sexually attracted to them!") Then, I guess, there were the TED Talk-like rants I'd subject him to about the thinly veiled queer relationship in Adventure Time between Princess Bubblegum and Marcelyne the Vampire Queen — which the cowards at Cartoon Network forced creators to keep as subtext!

And, well, when you lay it all out like that...

But my TikTok-fueled bisexual awakening might actually speak less to the omnipotence of the app's algorithm, and more to how heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

Sure, TikTok bombarded me with the thirst traps of my exact type of domineering masc lady queers, who reduced me to a puddle of drool I could no longer deny. But I also recalled a pivotal moment in college when I briefly questioned my heterosexuality, only to have a lesbian friend roll her eyes and chastise me for being one of those straight girls who leads Actual Queer Women on. I figured she must know better. So I never pursued any of my lady crushes in college, which meant I never experimented much sexually, which made me conclude that I couldn't call myself bisexual if I'd never had actual sex with a woman. I also didn't really enjoy lesbian porn much, though the fact that I'd often find myself fixating on the woman during heterosexual porn should've clued me into that probably coming more from how mainstream lesbian porn is designed for straight men.

The ubiquity of heterormativity, even when unwittingly perpetrated by members of the queer community, is such an effective self-sustaining cycle. Aside from being met with queer-gating (something I've since learned bi folks often experience), I had a hard time identifying my attraction to women as genuine attraction, simply because it felt different to how I was attracted to men.

Heteronormativity is truly one helluva drug.

So much of women's sexuality — of my sexuality — can feel defined by that carnivorous kind of validation you get from men. I met no societal resistance in fully embodying and exploring my desire for men, either (which, to be clear, was and is insatiable slut levels of wanting that peen.) But in retrospect, I wonder how many men I slept with not because I was truly attracted to them, but because I got off on how much they wanted me.

My attraction to women comes with a different texture of eroticism. With women (and bare with a baby bi, here), the attraction feels more shared, more mutual, more tender rather than possessive. It's no less raw or hot or all-consuming, don't get me wrong. But for me at least, it comes more from a place of equality rather than just power play. I love the way women seem to see right through me, to know me, without us really needing to say a word.

I am still, as it turns out, a sexual submissive through-and-through, regardless of what gender my would-be partner is. But, ignorantly and unknowingly, I'd been limiting my concept of who could embody dominant sexual personas to cis men. But when TikTok sent me down that glorious rabbit hole of masc women (who know exactly what they're doing, btw), I realized my attraction was not to men, but a certain type of masculinity. It didn't matter which body or genitalia that presentation came with.

There is something about TikTok that feels particularly suited to these journeys of sexual self-discovery and, in the case of women loving women, I don't think it's just the prescient algorithm. The short-form video format lends itself to lightning bolt-like jolts of soul-bearing nakedness, with the POV camera angles bucking conventions of the male gaze, which entrenches the language of film and TV in heterosexual male desire.

In fairness to me, I'm far from the only one who missed their inner gay for a long time — only to have her pop out like a queer jack-in-the-box throughout a near year-long quarantine that led many of us to join TikTok. There was the baby bi mom, and scores of others who no longer had to publicly perform their heterosexuality during lockdown — only to realize that, hey, maybe I'm not heterosexual at all?

Flooded with video after video affirming my suspicions, reflecting my exact experiences as they happened to others, the change in my sexual identity was so normalized on TikTok that I didn't even feel like I needed to formally "come out." I thought this safe home I'd found to foster my baby bisexuality online would extend into the real world.

But I was in for a rude awakening.

Testing out my bisexuality on other platforms, casually referring to it on Twitter, posting pictures of myself decked out in a rainbow skate outfit (which I bought before realizing I was queer), I received nothing but unquestioning support and validation. Eventually, I realized I should probably let some members of my family know before they learned through one of these posts, though.

Daunted by the idea of trying to tell my Latina Catholic mother and Swiss Army veteran father (who's had a crass running joke about me being a "lesbian" ever since I first declared myself a feminist at age 12), I chose the sibling closest to me. Seeing as how gender studies was one of her majors in college too, I thought it was a shoo-in. I sent an off-handed, joke-y but serious, "btw I'm bi now!" text, believing that's all that would be needed to receive the same nonchalant acceptance I found online.

It was not.

I didn't receive a response for two days. Hurt and panicked by what was potentially my first mild experience of homophobia, I called them out. They responded by insisting we need to have a phone call for such "serious" conversations. As I calmly tried to express my hurt on said call, I was told my text had been enough to make this sibling worry about my mental wellbeing. They said I should be more understanding of why it'd be hard for them to (and I'm paraphrasing) "think you were one way for twenty-eight years" before having to contend with me deciding I was now "something else."

But I wasn't "something else," I tried to explain, voice shaking. I hadn't knowingly been deceiving or hiding this part of me. I'd simply discovered a more appropriate label. But it was like we were speaking different languages. Other family members were more accepting, thankfully. There are many ways I'm exceptionally lucky, my IRL environment as supportive as Baby Bi TikTok. Namely, I'm in a loving relationship with a man who never once mistook any of it as a threat, instead giving me all the space in the world to understand this new facet of my sexuality.

I don't have it all figured out yet. But at least when someone asks if I listen to Girl in Red on social media, I know to answer with a resounding, "Yes," even though I've never listened to a single one of her songs. And for now, that's enough.

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thisisgonnafuxkinkillme · 4 years ago

Text

Save Me, Please!

Chapter 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 ...

𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰:

Stalking, gaslighting, phycological manipulation, anything that has to do with the yandere trope.

Months later, you were lonelier than ever. Each day was the same. Work, home. Work, home. Work, home. After that God awful experience, you were utterly uninterested in dating. The only other human you ever communicated with regularly was All Might, and those conversations were so one sided that you couldn’t get yourself excited to see him. He’d never let you get half of a word in before asking another question, or giving another compliment.

You had to admit, though, he was sweet, and he did certainly brighten up your day at least a little bit.

What began as an occasional sighting before work became a daily walk with you. It was almost as if he was your personal escort.

“I just don't want you to get hurt! You’ve seen the news, haven’t you?” is what he’d say, before whisking you away. You couldn’t really protest all that much in the end.

One day, as you were leaving from work, you saw him waiting for you. He looked different, and you could definitely tell that he had gotten ready to see you.

He had his hands behind his back, hiding some kind of surprise. You approached him semi-hesitantly, not sure what he had in store.

“Y/n! I’m so glad I got to see you again!” he beamed. You forced a laugh. He saw you literally every single day. This morning, even.

He presented the gift to you: a comically large bouquet of flowers, of all different kinds, but the most prominent ones in the middle were your favorite.

How did he know that?

You were shocked, looking up at him for reassurance. He met you with a sweet grin.

“So, um...y/n... I’d like to ask you something,” he mumbled, bending down to meet you at your level.

“What is it?”

“Um...would you like to...have coffee with me? Or...something?”

You spoke before you could think.

“Yes, I’d love to!”

His face lit up even more than usual, which you didn’t even think could be humanly possible at this point.

“Are you free tomorrow? In the morning? Or maybe tonight? Or, what about right now? Can you do it right now?”

“Um... can we do something more like Saturday? It’s only like 3 days away,” you offer. His eye twitches a little.

“Why not tomorrow? I know you get off early. Come on, it’ll be fun!”

“How...how did you know I got off earlier tomorrow?”

“Oh, you mentioned that to me once! Don’t you remember?”

“I...I guess I do. Okay, I’ll meet you tomorrow after work, then.”

The day came and went peacefully. You retreated into the restroom right after clocking out to tidy yourself up a little before your...date?

I guess that's what you could call it.

All Might was waiting for you outside, wearing a completely unnecessarily extravagant suit. This heavily contrasted with your business casual attire, and it brought many unwanted stares.

"Oh! There you are! You made me worry that you may not show up!" He grinned, gripping you in a too-tight bear hug.

It'd only taken you an extra 5 minutes to get tidied up. Maybe even less.

"Um...where are we supposed to be going?" You asked, trying to figure out why he'd be dressing like that.

"I thought you picked out a place!" He laughed. You sighed, shaking your head.

But eventually you both settled on a nice-ish restaurant down the road.

You took your seats and began chatting as usual. Everything was fine, nearly perfect, really, until the waiter came to take your drink orders.

He was around your age, his face soft and kind yet handsome. He was totally your type.

"What can I get for you, pretty lady? Oh, and for you, sir?" He asked, pen in hand.

The hero's eyes flashed.

"I'll just have a soda, please!" You smiled. All Might broke out of his internal monologue for a moment at the sound of your voice.

"I will have one of those as well."

You stupidly didn't notice anything was wrong.

"Alright, here's your sodas, and what can I get for your lovely daughter, sir?"

"my...what?" He slammed his fist on the table.

"Calm down! It's not a big deal!" You scream-whispered. He clenched his teeth, sighing. Your heart was beating out of your chest; you'd never seen All Might ever act like this. Frankly, you were scared.

"I deeply apologize, miss. I didn't mean to assume anything."

"Oh, it's fine! People tell me I look young for my age all the time."

"oh? How old are you, then?"

"That's enough,” All Might gritted. His knuckles were white at this point.

All Might slammed a few bills on the table, grabbing you by the arm and basically dragging you out.

"Hey, what the hell?! What's your problem?" You spat, crossing your arms.

"My problem is...ugh!! You don't know?"

You balled up your fists. Of course you didn't know.

"Why can't you just tell me? Why do you always need to act so fucking weird around me?!"

His eye twitched. But he remained strangely, unsettlingly calm.

"Oh, y/n... I just want you to stay safe. Surely you can understand that, can't you?" He purred, petting you gently on your head.

You swallowed.

"I...I get that..."

He smiled sweetly, as if nothing was wrong just moments ago.

You spent the rest of your date walking in the park, which was even more ridiculous considering he was still donning the extravagant suit and the weather was much too hot for anything like that.

That night, you flipped on the TV, but stopped as BREAKING NEWS flashed on the bottom of the screen.

"There is currently an 8pm curfew out after the third incident this year of a seemingly spontaneous murder. The victim, 2X year old Martin Grey, is the third victim in a series of seemingly connected murders. Officials Are urging all citizens to stay inside, and to report any suspicious activity."

You sighed, flipping off the television.

I'm so sick of hearing all this negative bullshit news...

It took you much longer than usual to get to sleep that night. Something just felt... incredibly wrong. You tried to convince yourself that you were totally safe, but the darkened corners of your room reached out to you, drawing off of your panic.

Finally, after taking way too many melatonin, your eyes shut and you drifted away.

When you woke up from your not so peaceful sleep, you couldn’t move. You were experiencing sleep paralysis, and no matter how much you fought, not a single muscle even flinched.

In the corner of your room, you saw him.

It was a familiar face, but you couldn’t pinpoint who exactly it was. He was huddled at the head of the bed, silently staring at you while he was bathed in the black inkiness of night.

He noticed your fluttering eyelids, frowning. Yet he said nothing. All you could do was helplessly watch as he retreated out of your room.

You were still fighting the paralysis even after he was gone, as well as the pure terror that came with it.

As soon as you got control of your bodily functions, you immediately shot up and googled what just happened.

“Sleep paralysis is a fairly common occurrence that doesn’t signify any mental or spiritual unrest...” a website told you. You sighed.

It wasn’t real. It didn’t happen.

...Right?

You began your day, and since it was a weekend all you had to do was make a pot of coffee and get going.

When you entered your kitchen, you noticed something.

The window was wide open.

———

“All Might... I think someone broke into my apartment last night,” you whimpered into the phone. You didn’t even say hello. You just had to tell someone, anyone about what happened.

He remained silent.

“I...I saw him,” you mumbled shakily, “but... I don’t know why he didn’t... do anything. I don’t know what he wanted.”

“This is why I’m so concerned for you, y/n. You’re always making mistakes like forgetting to lock your windows, and-“

You cut him off.

“How did you know he came in through the window?”

He didn’t even hesitate, replying, “You just said your window was open. Don’t you remember? You’re so silly sometimes, you know.”

You sighed.

“Can you just come over and help me change my locks? I... don’t feel safe anymore.”

He agreed to stop at the hardware store and come over right away.

He'd never been to your apartment before, so he did have to ask for directions. However, it wasn't hard to find you.

Before you could text him the final turning direction, he was already knocking at your door.

In his hands was a kit for new door locks as well as window locks. That afternoon was filled with lots of unscrewing, questions, googling, and troubleshooting, but once he was finished, you admittedly already began to feel safer.

"Thank you so much. It means a lot to me. Seeing that man was just...really scary." You sighed, eyeing the kitchen window. You imagined him sneaking in ever so quietly, standing in the darkest recesses of your room, silently staring at you.

"Like I told you, I want you to be safe. If you weren't...I think I might just go crazy, you know?" He joked.

"I do have something to ask you, though, y/n," he began, "what did he look like?"

"Well, I didn't get a good look. Really, I was convinced he wasn't real until...the window."

All Might didn't pry. He really didn't want to make you remember something you didn't care to think about.

#yagi toshinori #yandere yagi toshinori #yandere all might #yandere! all might #all might x reader #small might x reader

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