#She straight up said she was having gay sex all throughout high school

[captains-simp]

hey! so i love wanda and i was wondering if you could write one kind of enemies to lovers or something like that where reader and wanda don't get along well, jealous scene or maybe a very suggestive fight. very angst but happy fluffy ending please

Enemies to lovers owns my whole gay heart and I CANNOT write it without there being sexual tension so xksksjsks smut alert

@g-cordelia hope it's okay to combine your request with this too so there's a healthy dose of angst and fluff with it

"Please don't go."

"Don't you fucking lie to me."

Warnings: choking, fingering, spanking, strap on sex, mentions of oral and hints at mild injury

6k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

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"Your actions jeopardised the whole mission." Steve said sternly before raising his voice when he saw he received no reaction from you or the redhead. "Whatever is going on between you has to stop!"

"You say that like it's ever been any different." Natasha added.

The pair that usually felt like the protective big brother and sister of the team where acing the role of disappointed parents. Admittedly that did make you feel bad, but Wanda showed no signs of giving an apology and you would be damned if you did first.

Natasha and Steve waited for any kind of response from either of you and got nothing. You and Wanda continued to glare at each other from opposite sides of the table, your stubnorness stopping either of you from looking at the two standing at the head of the table.

"Just write up your reports." Steve sighed, giving into the tension of the room before anyone else. If it had been just you, Wanda and Natasha there was no telling how long you'd be in there.

You both got up from the table at the same time, still refusing to break eye contact.

"Y/n stay behind a minute." Oh so they're switching it up to disappointed teachers now. Your attention fell to Steve in a look of confusion although that didn't mean you missed the smirk that played on the corner of Wanda's lips. You cursed her like a sailor in your head and hoped she heard but her back was to you and she was strolling out the room.

"I thought you guys were getting better." Steve sighed as he leant against the table.

"We were when we didn't have to talk to each other." You said honestly. There had been a few weeks prior where you and Wanda had had no missions together and therefore had no reason to talk or train with one another.

"You can't resort to avoiding each other as a way to solve your problems. All that does is make things escalate even more when you're actually together which will inevitably happen. Because believe it or not you two are on the same side and have to act like it." Natasha said sternly. You stared down at the table and thought about how how her words were. But it wasn't like you had that warning before.

When the pair infront of you knew you weren't going to say anything in response Steve filled the silence once again. "You're both suspended from missions until you can learn to work together." He decided.

"What?!" You cried as you snapped your head towards them and stood up. "You can't be serious."

"Deadly." Natasha said. You looked frantically between the two in disbelief.

"Alright." You said finally and clenched your jaw. You turned around and left the room without objection from the two Avengers, heading straight towards Wanda's room.

You never really knew why you and Wanda never got on. Maybe it was because she reminded you so much of the popular girls in high school you always envied while wanting them in your bed...no, it definetly couldn't be that. You just didn't know what.

It didn't take long to get there when you were walking like you were out for blood, that wouldn't be an unexpected result of what you planned. You banged on her door several times in a closed fist so it didn't take her long to answer.

She looked concerned when she opened the door and as soon as she realised it was you that same smirk from the meeting room fell back into place.

"Did they ground you?" She asked as she leant against the doorframe.

"Suspended." You spat. A shit eating grin started to appear but you wiped that off her face instantly. "Both of us."

"What the fuck? I didn't-"

"Yes you fucking did and now I'm paying for it too. You wanna know the best part? We can't go back in the field until we can work together nicely." You said bitterly.

"Why don't they just keep us on separate missions?"

"You can go ask them that later. Right now we're training." You said simply and you grabbed her forearm and pulled her out of her room down the corridor.

"We just got back." Wanda argued but followed you anyway after slapping your hand off her.

"Not prepared to put the work in, witchy?" You mocked, not looking at her as you marched through the compound.

"Don't call me that?" Wanda warned as she kept your pace.

"What are you gonna do? Read my mind?" You continued to taunt as you arrived in the gym and made your way to the mats.

Wanda put her red jacket on the floor and stepped away to take up her position as she eyed you. "I could snap all your bones into pieces so small they could be mistaken for ash." Wanda said stoicly.

"I don't think that's gonna get you another mission." You replied calmly, knowing that while there was a truth to Wanda's words she would never give you more than a split lip or bloody nose in the worst training sessions.

"Don't be a smartass y/n, it doesn't suit you." Your jaw clenched at her words.

Without warning, the entirety of your right arm lit up in flames and was aimed at Wanda in an instant.

You sent a wave of fire her way that she swiftly engulfed in her powers and sent back towards you. She looked less than impressed from your warningless attack.

"That was tacky." She said.

"I know, seemed fitting for you." You grinned but stopped when the red mist surrounded your body and lifted you into the air before a larger wave of fire was sent hurtling down to the redhead. The wall of fire blocked her view of you and subsequently dropped you to the ground as she dealt with the flames.

As soon as you landed and the fire parted you sent another blast Wanda's way only for her to do the exact same thing. You both ducked at the same time, your powers hitting opposite walls and leaving marks Tony would be on your asses about when he found out.

Wanda was clearly thinking the same thing. "We can't use our powers in an enclosed space, especially not yours." She said, her accent thickly woven into her voice.

"Okay then, let's see if Natasha's lessons have paid off." You said as you raised your fists and got into your defensive stance. Wanda mirrored you the way she had been taught and narrowed her eyes.

"They definelty have." She insisted as her eyes flickered over your form to try and identify your weak points already in a very obvious way.

"Just try to keep up." You mocked and swiftly moved to swipe her legs out from under her but she was surprisingly prepared. She jumped up to avoid your attack and kicked her leg out mid air and landed it on the center of your chest. You stumbled back in shock while Wanda looked very proud of herself. The last time you saw Wanda train it was clear she wasn't familiar with close range hand to hand combat. You hadn't expected her to improve so significantly in such a short amount of time.

You gritted your teeth and went for her stomach this time which she easily avoided but wasn't expecting another attack to follow so quickly. She blocked the continuous blows from you until you saw your moments and kicked one of her legs out from under her. Your mistake was thinking you succeeded the moment she was down because she spun around and kicked both of your legs out. You caught yourself partly as Wanda stood up so you were on kneeling.

Wanda's smirk was quick to take place when she saw your position, not missing the opportunity. "You look good when you're on your knees." She quipped.

Your eyes widened at her boldness and a heat rose up your neck that you knew wasn't your powers. You rolled back on the balls of your feet and swiftly stood up to look anywhere but the smug redhead infront of you.

"No snarky remark for that?" She challenged and you charged at her again. Anger feuled your attacks making them miscordinated and all round bad.

"Shut the fuck up, Maximoff." You huffed and made her grin even more at the clear signs that she was getting to you.

One of your punches was pushed to the side and Wanda took the chance to show you just how much she had learnt from Nat. You weren't entirely sure how she even did it it was so quick. Your arm was outstretched behind your back painfully due to Wanda's unrelenting grip on it and made it that much easier to push one of your legs down onto the floor. She held you like that for longer than necessary, soaking up the view of you struggling in her grasp.

"Get off." You snapped and winced when she pulled your arm back more.

"What's the magic word?" She teased.

"Now." You demanded. She tutted and pulled harder. "Maximoff!" You ordered through the pain. She leaned down beside you as her voice dropped to a low whisper.

"Beg." It was one word but you couldn't deny the effect it had on you. It was as though her light breath on your ear shot throughout your body and settled in a place you really didn't want it to.

You were about to object and tell her to stop being a bitch but her grip tightened and she pulled to a point where you thought your arm might just snap off under any more pressure.

"Please." You cried through gritted teeth. She instantly let go all too quickly and you collapsed onto the mat on your front. You heard her chuckle menacingly but cut herself off when Nat appeared in the doorway.

"We told you to write up your reports, not train." Natasha scolded as she watched you massage your shoulder and glare at Wanda.

"Sorry, just got a bit carried away." Wanda smiled, her innocent and sweet act that she put up for everyone except you returning. "Y/n's had enough now anyway." She smirked to herself.

"Fucking psycho." You muttered loud enough for her to hear but not Nat. Her jaw visibly clenched from that making you revel in the small victory as you finally got up from the mat.

"Just get on with the reports." Nat sighed and turned to leave as Wanda called out.

"On it."

"Aww, you trying to be a good girl, Maximoff?" You mocked as the pain subsided and your need to overrule what had happened came through.

"I don't have the time to stress over that, not when I'm busy putting brats in their place." Wanda said as she advanced towards you with a look you had only ever seen aimed at those you were fighting against.

"What?" You whispered as you backed up and felt your back hit the wall. Wanda's hand came up suddenly and wrapped itself around your throat firmly and cut off your breathing. Your eyes widened as you grabbed at her hands but she didn't budge. She looked amused at your efforts as her head tilted slightly to the side.

"And you certainly need to learn your place." She took her hand away and left you gasping for air for a split second before grabbing your arm and pulling you out of the gym.

You stumbled a little as you tried to keep up with Wanda's long strides you could usually match. Your whole body was already trembling in anticipation, more so by the tension filled silence between you both as you travelled through the compound and ended up outside the redhead's room.

She opened her door and shoved you into her room swiftly. You didn't have much chance to take in your surroundings because the Sokovian gripped the back of your neck and forced you to lay on your stomach on her bed.

She made quick work of your clothes, discarding them to some soon forgotten about corner.

You turned your head to the side and gripped the sheets as you felt Wanda's slim fingers trialing up the back of your thighs before she gripped them roughly and forced them apart and lifted your lower half up. Her fingers returned and glided along your drippikg folds, collecting your arousal as she reveled in the effect she had on you.

"What was it that made you this wet, slut? Was it being on your knees for me? Begging me? Or did you enjoy the pain? I bet you enjoyed me choking you too." She chuckled darkly and didn't wait for you to respond.

She slipped two fingers inside your soaking cunt without warning making you gasp out in pleasure. Her fingers curled inside you beautifully, brushing some kind of nerve ending every second they were buried inside you. She had you a moaning, quivering mess in no time.

"Wanda...fuck! Right there, oh God!" She snickered against your skin as she worked her fingers expertly. Even then she wanted to test you. Well it was more that she was setting you up for failure.

"Shut the fuck up. I don't want to hear another sound from that whiny mouth." She ordered and you couldn't help but shiver from her dominant nature.

Of course it didn't last long. Her fingers felt so damn perfect inside you and you couldn't help but moan at the unspeakable pleasure.

She brought her hand down fast and landed it on your ass with a harsh smack that echoed through the room. She did it to both of your asscheeks until they were bright red and you were trembling. The sadistic redhead didn't stop there, she continued to rain down smacks that edged you further to your edge with the pleasurable pain.

Soon, you were moaning into the air as you came around Wanda's slim fingers, desperatly clenching around them in an attempt to prolong the pleasure. Thankfully, she kept pumping her fingers inside you, not caring when the overstimulation kicked in. She even started scissoring her fingers inside you, stretching your walls in a way that has you whimper loudly.

"Gotta stretch you a little to get you ready for my piece, sweetheart." She said in a sinister tone. "There's no way you'd be able to take it otherwise, it's already going to reck you with its size." She husked into your ear and withdrew her fingers, spanking you again when you whined.

Wanda got off the bed and disappeared into her closet, shortly returning with a large strap secured around her waist and pointed at you. You whimpered at the sight of it, not sure you could handle its size.

The Sokovian kneeled behind you and gripped your hips with both her hands as she lined up the strap with your entrance.

"I'm going to fill you up so nicely, Princess. Gonna have your cumming in no time." She husked, her voice dripping with lust.

A scream was ripped from your throat when Wanda thrust the entirety of the strap into your pussy. She set about her harsh, abusing pace instantly and preened at the sound of the pleasure filled cries that left you.

She grabbed a fistful of your hair and slammed your head down into the pillows on your side do she could still hear all of your desperate moans. The rough action earned the redhead a cry of her name.

Her pace was unrelenting, everytime she thrust back into you she somehow managed to hit deeper, pounding the toy against the most sensitive and pleasurable part of your cunt.

"Mommy!" You moaned loudly, not realising your slip up until the words left your lips. Your eyes widened and you feared Wanda's response, but what you got was a smack from the redhead that stung your ass in the best way. Her fucked you with increasing vigor too, wanting you title to spill from your lips again. And it did. Over and over, each time going straight to Wanda's pussy.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered as you gripped onto the sheets tighter to prepare yourself for your release. But Wanda pulled the strap out the the very tip and held it there as she leant over to whisper in your ear.

"Beg me." She ordered and you whimpered again. It wasn't like you hadn't already submitted to the red head you hated but begging would be something that would loom over you for a while.

Your thoughts clashed with the overwhelming need from your pussy as it desleratly tried to clamp down on the tip that didn't provide nearly enough pleasure.

"Please, Wanda." You whispered.

"Please who?" She asked sweetly, clearly testing you making you groan.

"Please, mommy just let me cum." You whined and Wanda smacked your ass hard. She edged the dildo in further ever so slowly and stopped again.

"Mommy, please! I need to cum." You tried again, desperation seeping into your voice. Wanda hummed.

"I can see that." She mused as she rubbed small circles on your throbbing and soaked clit. "I just don't see why I should, brat." She punctuated the name with a harsh slap to your ass again and you caught onto what she was hinting at.

"Please, I'll...I'll be so good for you, mommy."

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yes! Please mommy I'll be so so good for you. Just please please let me c-" You were abruptly cut off by your own whorish moan as Wanda snapped her hips forwards and filled you up entirely.

One of her hands tangled itself in your hair and forced your head down into the pillows, not stopping your incoherent babbles filling the room along with the sound of your pussy being fucked by Wanda and her thighs slapping against yours.

The Sokovian tugged on your hair again so your head was off the pillow.

"I'm gonna cum!" You cried out into the air.

"That's it, baby. Soak my fucking cock." And with that demand you came harder than you ever had around Wanda's strap and moaned continuously as the redhead prolonged your pleasure by continuing to pound into you.

But it soon became too much for your sensitive pussy. You squirmed away from Wanda but she placed one hand on the middle of your back to keep you flat against the bed.

"Too much." You managed to say, however the redhead didn't seem to care.

"I'm nowhere near done with you, Princess."

*

Laying panting and gripping onto Wanda's bedsheets like a lifeline wasn't exactly what you expected to be doing on a Thursday night. You were drenched in sweat and although Wanda had pulled out the toy minutes prior, you were sure you could still feel it filling you up, the faint throbbing a forewarning of what was to come.

It took you a while to gather the strength to get up. With anyone else you probably would have just stayed the night in their bed, but you weren't sure you could do that with Wanda. Although she wouldn't kick you out, you didn't like the thought of sleeping beside the redhead. It seemed far too...soft? Whatever it was, you were sure Wanda would agree.

You searched for your clothes while she took a most likely deliberately long shower, images of her naked figure covered in water invading your mind.

Once you cursed them away they were just replaced with flashes of what you had been doing for all those hours, remembering how she pulled on your hair as she praised you when you went down on her. Of course you did that while on your knees.

What happened between you and Wanda wasn't a one time thing. In fact it became increasingly common until you were in each other's beds almost every night. You would have been fuck buddies if you had considered each other a friend.

It worked. You and Wanda were able to work out your pent up frustration towards each other in a way that didn't hurt one another....well, if that didn't include the scratches along Wanda's back and the constant aching between your legs.

You didn't even make snide comments about each other in meetings or during training. You were able to keep everything in the bedroom.

The success of what you two had going forced you to ignore the noteable change in feelings you had towards Wanda. You saw her differently but couldn't quite tell how. Sometimes it was as though the unplaceable emotion you had towards her from from start spiked and other times you were purely confused.

It was always most prominent after she made you crash over the edge of bliss or when she came undone beneath you. Those moments when your bodies went limp and you were caught up in each other's embrace because you didn't have the energy to move. Hearing her exhausted breathing match her rising and falling chest and faint heartbeat if you had your head on her chest. Those tender moments were the ones that caught you off guard.

You refused to make a big deal out of it though. You refused to investigate your feelings or even acknowledge them. What you had with Wanda was the most efficient thing you could do. You didn't want to muck it up but you knew it couldn't go on forever. Another labelless feeling emerged at that thought.

Natasha was the only one who knew what you were doing. Neither of you told her, the spy was able to figure it all out on her own quickly and confronted you both about it once, only saying to be careful. That was the only time she addressed it verbally but you could always feel her watching you both carefully when you trained.

You thought it was going great. You and Wanda had finally been cleared for a mission that you would both be on, the team certainly needed the man power. That was until Nat told you otherwise.

"What do you mean I'm not going?!" You exclaimed across the room. You had seen Nat in the meeting room looking up something on her tablet and had gone in to enquire something about the mission that was long forgotten.

"I've thought about it and you and Wanda still aren't deemed the most reliable when put together for a mission, with this one being as important as it is we can't afford to make mistakes." Natasha sighed.

"So why don't you take Wanda off the mission? I have more experience."

"Her powers are perfectly fitted to this mission, we need her."

"And not me." You knew you came across as petty, but you had been dying to go back into the field.

"Y/n." Nat tried but you scoffed and glared at the screens with those assigned to the mission. Your eyes found Wanda's picture first and your jaw clenched at the sight of her ridiculously attractive face.

"What did she say to you?" You demanded as something clicked in your brain.

"She didn't say anything, this is my judgement." Natasha began but you didn't buy it.

"We both know if it was you you would have told me as soon as you decided it. You had no issue with me and Wanda being on this mission before. Hell, you cleared us both for the field." Nat glanced down at her tablet guiltily as she searched her brain for another hopeless lie.

"This is unbelievable." You scoffed and turned sharply on your heels to storm out of the room, ignoring your name being called by Nat.

You soon found Wanda in the kitchen making herself a coffee as she hummed softly. You willed your brain to ignore the warmth you got from seeing the redhead in her own, peaceful world.

"Do you have a problem with me?" You demanded, snapping her out of her trance. She visibly figited when she saw you approach her and lean on the edge of the kitchen island on you hands with an expectant look.

"No?" She said, seeming unsure.

"Don't you fucking lie to me." She seemed startled by your increasing aggression.

"What are you talking about?" She asked as she stirred her drink.

"Don't play dumb with me, Maximoff. You got me off the mission!" Wanda stopped her movements as she froze, clearly caught off guard by your discovery. Given how Nat had acted you guessed you weren't meant to find out it was Wanda who said something.

"It's for the best." She finally said but avoided your eye.

"It is not your place to decide what's best for me, you don't get to do that." You argued.

"There should only be a few people on the mission." She tried.

"I know that, I've seen the intel. But we already discussed that those people should be powered. Why am I being taken off?" You demanded again.

"It's dangerous." She muttered as she stared down at her drink.

"It's my fucking job. You think I don't know that."

"Of course you do, but there's a bigger risk than the usual missions we've been on. A bigger risk of you getting hurt." She muttered the last bit, like she wasn't entirely sure she wanted you to hear her. Granted, Wanda showing concern for your safety was new.

"Any one of us could get hurt." You said, lowering your voice marginally.

"But it's you I'm worried about." She insisted. It was your turn to become uncomfortable, shifting slightly under her gaze that held something new.

"I can take care of myself." You said as you crossed your arms, feeling a sudden defensive need to protect yourself.

"I know... but I care about you." You exhaled slowly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable at the tone of her voice. "If something happened to you..." She continued, "I don't know what I would do." Her voice was barely above a whisper, the softness laced in it undeniable. It sparked something in you. Something you didn't want to accept.

"Good luck on your mission, Maximoff." You said through gritted teeth and went to leave but Wanda was behind you instantly and took ahold of your hand to pull you back.

"Wait, I wasn't done-"

"Well I am." You snapped and yanked your hand out of her grip.

"What..?" She said slowly.

"If you don't want to work with me then we won't, no need to keep fucking anymore." You huffed and went to walk away.

"That wasn't what I-"

"Stop!" It wasn't a cry of anger. It was pure desperation. Your pleading look took Wanda by surprise and pained her to see. "Just stop before you say something you can't unsay." You said shakily. Your unspoken message was received. You didn't want to hear about Wanda's feelings towards you. She just didn't know it was because you were afraid that it would uncover what you had been feeling all along. You couldn't handle it. You were scared.

Wanda nodded, defeated, and let you go. You were filled with grief as you walked away, your footsteps feeling heavier than usual. You wanted to look back, to go back to her. But you couldn't.

*

You distracted yourself with a particularly ruthless training session the day of Wanda's mission. Carol showed you no mercy in sparring, weight lifting and boxing - even encouraging power use every now and then. But your mind still wandered to the redhead the way it usually did.

When you finally collapsed on the mat in defeat Carol chuckled and tossed you your waterbottle before encouraging an ice bath and strolling out of the gym for her evening flight.

You stayed on the floor for a while after you finished your water, only stopping staring up at the ceiling when Nat's outline blocked the lights. You sat up and looked at her hopefully, seeing that she was back from monitoring the mission and didn't seem distraught or upset.

"How did it go?" You asked as she sat down across from you.

"It was a success." She said but she didn't seem all that happy.

"And everyone's okay?" You asked cautiously. Nat gave a half shug and sighed lightly.

"There was ice - a lot if it and it was so cold. Dangerously cold." Nat started. You tried not to clench your jaw or show any signs of annoyance, knowing there was no need to point out that mission was fitted for you and your powers that would have guaranteed everyone's safety.

"Wanda got a little cut up, it was impossible to fight on that ground." You eyed the door and bit your lip, refraining from giving in to the urge to go see her.

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone right now, but she needs seeing to the cut." Nat said as she placed a first aid kit down infront of you. She was back already? And why did you have the kit?

"She won't see anyone either." Nat said before you could verbally question her. It took a moment for you to understand what she was saying.

"I don't think she wants to see me, Nat." You said as you pushed it back her way only for her to toss it into your lap.

"Goddmit, y/n. Can you two stop dancing around each other and actually talk?!" She exclaimed.

"We tried that-"

"Talking, y/n, not shouting or arguing. Talking." She said firmly and got up before you could protest further.

You pondered over what Natasha said for a while. You knew she had a good point, that talking was exactly what you should have done from the start, but it was just another thing that frightened you.

"Your job is facing your fears." You muttered aloud to yourself.

You finally got up from the ground, first aid kit in hand, and trudged along the compound towards Wanda's room. You tried to figure out what you could say on the way. But it all came out a jumbled mess that made no sense. Multiple times you stopped in the hallways and considered turning back before convincing yourself to keep going.

You knocked softly on Wanda's door and was surprised that it opened for you. The redhead in question was sat on her bed with a pillow in her lap, fiddling with her hands the way she always did when she was anxious or deep in thought. That evening it was both.

She glanced up at you as you closed the door but turned back to her pillow quickly when you gave her a short smile that didn't quite meet your eyes.

Regardless, you cautiously walked towards her bed and sat down next to her with the small box between you. You brought one of your legs up under you so you could face Wanda and eyed the cut above her eyebrow in concern. She still didn't say anything, neither did you.

You opened up the small box and got out a pack of wound closure strips and carefully unwrapped one. Wanda didn't object to you gently holding the area around her cut as you placed the strip on and lightly smoothed over the edges until you were sure it would stay on.

"I let my emotions cloud my judgement." She mumbled as you prepped another strip.

"It happens to all of us." You said.

"But I didn't listen to you. I should have." You sighed and stopped unwrapping the strip to look up at the redhead and watch her closely. She looked back at you with a guilty and pained expression that was full of regret.

"Yeah." You nodded slowly as you went back to the medical tape and raised your hands to put it on but the Sokovian held your wrist to stop you. "What's done is done, so just let me put these on and we're good." You said but she still didn't let go.

"Just like that?" She questioned.

"The mission was a success. If I'd had been there you wouldn't have gotten hurt, that's all."

"You were really mad though." She continued and you put your hands down to rest them, not failing to notice that Wanda was still holding your wrist but with a much lighter grip.

"It's hard to stay mad at you." You admitted.

"You've always been mad at me."

"Well it wasn't exactly like you were the friendliest person to me." You pointed out. "I was never mad at you, Wanda. I just hated that... that you made me feel something I've never trusted, so I didn't trust you. It was never your fault, I was unfair." You admitted as you stared down at the tape the whole time, afraid to meet the redhead's eyes.

"What did you feel?" Wanda asked, her voice void of emotion making it more difficult for you to say. You gulped as you continued to stare at the tape, willing yourself to give Wanda the answer she needed. The answer she deserved.

"Love." You voice shook. "I loved... love you." You were shaking more as you finally looked up at Wanda. Her eyes were wide and her lips slightly parted like there was a million thoughts trying to be heard but without the ability to.

She didn't say anything for a while. A long while. She stared at you in disbelief then at her pillow as though it would give her all the answers.

Tears rushed to your eyes that you tried to blink away as your head swam with curses to yourself for admitting your feelings. You had opened up and been vulnerable to Wanda, and the result was the exact reason you had sworn to never do it again.

Once you were sure she wasn't going to say anything to you, you took it as your cue to leave. To leave so Wanda could prepare her rejection speech for you. However, as soon as you put your hand to the door she spoke out.

"Please don't go."

You turned around slowly and met her light brown eyes you had always found impossible not to get lost in when you had your fingers or tongue inside her. You timidly went back to the bed and paused before sitting down next to her, facing the wall instead of her this time.

"I thought it was one sided." She started and you felt yourself begin to shake with nerves again. "I thought you didn't love me back." You looked to Wanda quickly and searched her features for any signs of a lie, any signs that she was setting you up to push you down but she was gazing back at you longingly with tears glistening in her eyes.

"When you confronted me about the mission, I was going to say it then, you knew that." You squeezed your eyes shut and nodded, remembering the fear you felt in that moment.

"I wasn't ready, I thought I wouldn't ever be but," You took a deep breath "I want to try, for you." You took ahold of Wanda's hand to reiterate your point. "I care about you too Wanda, so much. More than I could ever express or even handle and I didn't know what to do about it. I mean we've tried a fair few things now," You both laughed a little, "but it I don't think any of them are going to work as well as accepting it and...and I don't know." You looked to her for guidance because fuck did you need it. You needed Wanda to guide you down whatever path you chose to take, as long as she was there with you.

"Maybe we could start with something small." She suggested with a small smile that made her eyes shine.

"Like a coffee date?" You tried.

"Exactly like that." She confirmed, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Then I'll pick you up around 2." You said cheesily making Wanda laugh. "But first, I have to finish tending to this cut." You declared as you turned around to face her entirely and crossed your legs under you, pausing for a moment to give Wanda a short and sweet kiss.

[polyghostfacehours]

SPILL THE DEMI BILLY BOY STUFF.

HOOOO OKAY YOU ASKED FOR IT Quick preface: these are just my headcanons. If you have a different Billy headcanon then thats also A+ like i also love all the trans!Billy's and gay!Billy's and straight!Billy's and ace!Billy's etc etc etc. I love Billy in general I simp for every version of him on god. TW: mentions of sex, mention of the f-slur

Okay so firstly, Billy doesn't know he's demi. He's never heard of it. It's the 90's and he grew up in Woodsboro so it's not like anyone ever mentions it to him.

In his eyes, there's straight, and there's gay. And he's heard of people going through a "bisexual phase". So that's what he believes growing up.

Important note: demi people still masturbate and watch porn. There's no problem with that. There's a stark difference between being aroused by a scene you are simply watching and disconnected from vs. being attracted romantically and sexually to someone and wanting to engage in said relationship and sex with said person.

So yeah Billy has no prob watching porn on Cinemax on the tv living room whenever no one's home, or looking at magazines to jack it to.

But when it came to real life, he only ever wanted to kiss or date or fuck people after slowly getting to know them. Which, due to his issues with empathy and his general disregard for others, adds another layer of of difficulty. Not like it never happened, it happened plenty of time throughout his life. It just was never as quick as non-demi people experienced it.

There was never an instant attraction factor for him like there was in others, it was always a crawling slow burn of physical feelings and building emotions. Like, he could acknowledge someone was cute or objectively physically attractive and want to get to know them, but he never felt immediate sexual or romantic attraction, nor a desire for a potential relationship right off the bat.

And for the vast majority of people he meets, he never feels any attraction or desire at all. Randy and Tatum are a good example. There is absolutely nothing appealing about Randy to Billy, point-blank. And while he sees that she's hot and feisty, something he normally likes, he barely knows Tatum and his blood boils when he sees her with Stu.

But Billy is a pretty horny dude, so when Billy was sexually active with people in the past or had girlfriends in middle school and high school, it was always like playing a role or doing it for the physical stimulation rather than any true genuine sexual attraction or romantic feelings towards the person themselves.

Speaking of girlfriends, boyfriends were off the table. Billy grew up with and still suffers from mad internalized homophobia. He didn't want to be a f*g, as his mom and dad called them.

So any attraction to guys he felt was always pushed away and written off as something bullshit like admiration.

When he met Stu in 7th grade, he felt nothing. No attraction whatsoever. It wasn't until high school when they became best friends and just clicked that he realized he was in love and thought about how much he wanted to be with Stu, in all ways. He pushed it away for a long time, up until they killed Maureen.

Hell, as a matter of fact Stu was initially the "accomplice he could sell out if he was caught" that Roman advised him to get. But that night after they killed Maureen, and he saw how Stu understood him in the most intimate ways, ways no one else ever will...he knew he never could. He'd fucking die for Stu.

With Sidney, he'd known her since 8th grade, and knew her for two years before realizing he had feelings for her and wanted her to be his girlfriend. He didn't push these feelings away like he did with his feelings for Stu because haha ~*compulsory heterosexuality*~ so it worked out.

And it was great! At first. Like Billy said, they started "hot and heavy", she was cute, sweet, and never let anyone push her around. He genuinely liked her. And then it all crashed and burned when Roman showed him that video. Like a puddle in summer, Billy's feelings for her evaporated and the thought of even touching her started making him nauseous. Unfortunately, being related to the woman who tore your family apart is kind of a deal breaker to Billy

What once were the feelings of a romance early in it's infancy turned into a vile, angry hatred that Billy just couldn't quell.

I don't know if this is a demi thing or just a Billy thing, but Billy with strong feelings vs Billy in love are two very different things.

If Billy's in love with you, there's very little you could do to make him stop. He loves intensely(even if it doesnt seem like it on the outside. On the inside it drives him wild) and possessively. Flaws that would be a deal breaker in other scenarios are now endearing, even if they irritate him. The sex is much less self-serving because he begins to derive pleasure from making the one he loves go crazy. He's not selfless or anything, but he puts a lot of effort into caring or at the very least pretending to care when he doesn't.

Whereas if Billy just has strong feelings for you that never evolve into love, he's much less forgiving. He wants you to be the image he's cultivated in his head of you. He won't dump you if you have a flaw or something (like, for example, Sidney didn't like horror movies but he still liked her), but anything could possibly be a deal breaker and make his feelings do a 180 on you. He likes you, but the sex is more selfish and about him for sure due to his naturally self serving nature. Honestly Billy's a lowkey toxic bf if he doesnt love you (and even if he does lmao)

He broke lot of young hearts because of this. His tendency to get to know a girl, gaining feelings and attraction for them over months and months, dating them for a short while, only to dump them like trash when something about them makes his feelings do a 180 was a well known thing. He's know as the school's bad boy for a reason.

Because he's demi, he never pumped and dumped like Stu did, nor did he ever cheat (except in that one scenario I wrote when he a Stu were so drugged up and cheated Y/N). But it still hurt a lot of people.

I guess the tld;dr of this is: Billy's attraction is far more situational than the average person. He likes girls and boys but like only very specific girls and boys and if he doesnt love them then he might dump their ass because idk they looked bad in yellow or something

I have a more that I can expand upon, but then this would get too long so Ill just wait for if anyone asks for more! But man, I just have so many feelings for poly demi!Billy and poly bi!Stu and also just general headcanons about them like about Billy's home life, his misogyny issues, Stu's relationship with his parents, or what they both genuinely think of each person in their friend group etc etc. Hope you jive with these headcanons!

[ghost0loxer]

Imagine, a gender fluid teenager like myself has a favourite/feel-good film and that film is “Just One of the Guys,”from the mid 80s.

Picture this: theatre class, we watch “She’s The Man”, a dreamworks film from the 2000s. And yet, the social justice issues within the film are glaringly obvious to today’s society. Don’t get me wrong, it can be a funny film in a group setting - but then there are scenes that are just uncomfortable. Now, we discussed these themes in class, but I just can’t help but think about the film that came before it. Yes, StM (she’s the mans) is a modern day adaption of Shakespeare’s “Twelfth Night” but I was thinking about the modern day adaption before StM, “Just One of the Guys” from the mid 80s.

I love this film. For multiple reasons, which I hope to discuss.

Number one, our main character. Terry Griffith is stubborn. If she thinks something is right, she won’t let anyone say no or get in her way. Now in some cases, this is great. It’s definitely a shift in the usual romantic comedy female lead (especially for the 80s). But it’s one of her biggest flaws. In the beginning, Terry doesn’t win a contest for a part-time job at the Sun Tribune. She believes her article was amazing, but she speaks with her English teacher and he gives it to her straight. “You don’t have what it takes to be a reporter.” Her article is boring; it’s about the nutritional value of the lunch menu in the school cafeteria, of course it’s boring. But the words her teacher tells her has her convinced it’s because she’s a woman. Thus, she leaves school for two weeks and transfers as a buy to another school who are holding the same competition. Once she gives her article, she is told almost the same thing, but this time, she’s given proper feedback to improve it. Of course, there was some irony with this scene between Terry and the teacher. “Just because you’re guy, doesn’t mean you can’t be sensitive or light.” Thing is, she doesn’t give up, she strives to fix it and finds a new angle. I love her determination, I love the way she doesn’t let others push her around. Furthermore, her transition to a man. In StM, Viola as a guy is made to be cringey and comedic, you watch and think, there’s no way a guy would do that. But Terry, having grown up with a younger brother and is actually smart, manages to nail the role. Sure, she has slip-ups, but she stays afloat and she’s not being over the top. She’s chill and convincing, yet you as the audience can tell she’s trying to appear masculine. Her lines are witty and she’s sharp. Someone has something to say, she’ll be able to backtrack and answer with a joke or sarcasm quickly. I like smart characters.

Another point, the way women are written in this film. A lot of women in this film are treated like shit, but it’s probably a realistic depiction of the 80s. Everyone is talking about dating and sex, it seems to be the only topic the women in this film speak about, unless they are Terry. Terry seems to be the only character in this film whose main goal is not romance or sex. She strives to be a reporter, she wants to prove herself, and she rejects the advances upon her frequently. Whether it’s the boys asking her on dates in halls, or her own boyfriend attempting to seduce her when her parents aren’t home, she doesn’t put them above herself, yet she still lets them down easily, unless they become more pushy (case in point, her boyfriend, Kevin, in the beginning). She can stand up for herself, but she’s not the only one. Her best friend, Denise is one of the many women looking for love, nevertheless, she holds standards. I will admit, I didn’t like Denise’s acting in the beginning; she’s not a great character, but even she manages to reject men’s advances constantly. She’s not afraid to say it bluntly and she expresses her true emotions when certain guys try to ask her out. She tells it to them straight, and I respect her for that (despite her lack of empathy for some). Terry’s brother is constantly hitting on Denise, but she stands her ground. She doesn’t hit him or curse him out, she spins words around him and always lead back to the key word “no.”

This is my third, and maybe final point, (because I’m not great at writing but I’m starting to get tired) the way they handle sexual orientation. It seems if you’re going to make a film about a cross-dressing woman who falls in love with a man, you have to discuss sexuality and this film is not afraid to. That was my biggest beef with StM, when Viola confessed her love to Duke, the made it blatantly clear that it was “weird” and “unusual”; the editing and music cuts. It was done for comedic purposes, but in that moment, it just made me cringe. Even when the principal marched onto the field during the big match to expose Sebastian as “the woman he was all along,” he used a big megaphone and said to the whole crowd this man is in fact a girl. If it were to happen in the real world, and this character was a trans male, that would be traumatizing and so so insensitive. I couldn’t help thinking the way they handled the reveal in StM was poor and shitty.

But with JOotG (just one of the guys)? It’s done respectfully. Throughout the film, Buddy, Terry’s younger, sex-obsessed brother (I have thoughts on this character), often refers to Terry as a transvestite or sexually confused. They make references about her dating other women and jokes. It’s not treated like taboo, but just something people normally talk about, and as a questioning kid when I first watched the film, I really needed that. Although it was used for jokes, the fact that it wasn’t treated like a silent topic made me think more of it and discover who I was; it was media like this that made me accept myself.

Even with the reveal. Kevin, Terry’s boyfriend (or ex boyfriend by the end), stomps up to Terry after she’s wrestled with the school bully and was dumped into the waves at prom. Rick, who’s been Terry’s friend (and is the male lead) throughout her time at his high school, immediately questions who Kevin is and he responds with a harsh and sure “Terry’s boyfriend.” Of course, that doesn’t expose Terry as female, but makes Rick assume she’s a homosexual. But instead of calling her weird or replying negatively, he answers Kevin’s question calmly and says he’s just a friend. There is no prejudice, no disgust, Rick is shocked, but that’s expected. Furthermore, this reveal not only does not alienate homosexuality, it puts the center of focus on the main characters rather than have the whole audience/prom witness this exchange. Sure, the rest of the school is watching but the camera never pans over to them, and even then, Terry drags Rick away from the crowds to a secluded area to explain more.

Even once they’re secluded, Rick doesn’t yell at her or is homophobic. He just says “I understand, you’re gay.” As we know, Terry is not in fact gay and she reveals this to him in a similar fashion as StM, at least it’s not flashing a whole crowd. But the thing that hits me, is the fact that it’s not used as a joke or for comedy. Throughout the film, they’ve mentioned homosexuality and being transgender, but it was used as a light-hearted joke (nothing insulting or derogatory). In this moment, it’s not a joke, and it’s the bare minimum for a emotional scene like this, but it always hits me.

Of course, Rick gets justifiably mad that he’s been deceived and he storms off. Terry’s flaw catches up to her here, as she kisses him in front of the prom guests, stubborn to make him realize how much she cares. ( I didn’t agree with this action to be frank, I cringed ). The crowd gasps and it’s the usual reaction to a homosexual kiss and Rick just pulls back, says “It’s alright everyone, he’s got tits,” and leaves with Deborah.

In true romantic comedy fashion, life moves on. Terry gets the job at the Sun-Tribune after writing her article about posing as a guy and everyone who was longing for love in the beginning has found it, except Terry. The ending, however, is Rick coming back for her after a couple (days? Weeks? Idk all I know is it’s summer by the time he comes back, how much space between prom and summer?) and they kiss, go on a date and all is good.

Now after writing this long ass post, I’ve come to realize the main reason I like this film. Sure, Terry is a good character (not morally sometimes, but she’s interesting to watch), the way women are presented also is good, but my main source of affection for this film (in comparison to StM) is the way they handle the switching of genders. I’m gender fluid, I don’t always like being a woman or a man, I switch almost daily and half the time can’t decide if I want to grow out my hair or cut it. Seeing Terry, originally a woman, manage to convince people she was a guy made me wish I could do it too. It made me realize, I don’t always like being a woman. I want to be a guy sometimes, and I want that to be accepted. It was media like this, like Ouran High School Host Club, like Bare: A Pop Opera, that made me understand my gender and sexuality. (Even media that didn’t have any relation to LGBTQ+ helped).

When I first heard of “She’s the Man”, I had hoped it would be like these pieces of media. And it wasn’t. It was an alright film, but made me feel disappointed and somewhat let down. And that’s why I just prefer Just One of the Guys. Maybe it wouldn’t float in today’s political climate, maybe I’m wrong for seeing these points as reasons it’s one of my favorites, but its still better than StM and is one of my favourite films.

[remuswriting]

Haikyuu Gender and Sexuality Headcanons

These are all my ideas and I only did Headcanons over characters I know a lot about and feel confident in doing so.  I know there are more characters than just these but I don’t want to bullshit it. Hopefully, you guys will enjoy these.

Karasuno

Daichi: Gym obsessed gay guy who dates hot guys from his gym.

Sugawara: Nonbinary and uses he/him pronouns.  He’s gay and constantly tells Daichi to get on Tinder instead of dating people at his gym.

Asahi: Also nonbinary but uses they/them pronouns.  Their masculinity can be a lot at times and it makes them dysphoric but their lovely boyfriend helps them out.  Also pansexual.

Nishinoya: Bisexual with a lean for women and is dating Asahi.  He hypes Asahi up whenever needed and helps them feel valid when that’s needed too.

Tanaka: Straight and dating Kiyoko.  Definitely had a crush on Ennoshita but didn’t really realize it.  He fights people who say he’s not actually straight because Kiyoko isn’t a ‘real woman.’

Ennoshita: He is gay and was 100% in love with Tanaka their third year.

Narita: Bisexual and likes Kinoshita but will most definitely never say anything.

Kinoshita: Gay and literally just trying to get through life without thinking too much about love.

Kageyama: Genderfluid with pronouns she/him/their and it’s typically he/them.  Shows what their gender is that day through clip on earrings (Hinata’s idea) and everyone respects it.  They’re aroace and cringe when anyone accuses them of dating Hinata.

Hinata: He is a transboy who struggles with really intense dysphoria but his teammates try to help him out.  He’s also bisexual with a huge male lean and his first crush was Sugawara.  Kenma was the person he had the biggest crush on all throughout high school though.  Their relationship is never really defined and eventually Hinata does date Atsumu.

Tsukishima: He’s nonbinary with using mainly he/him pronouns but there are days where they will announce they/them pronouns to the gym.

Yamaguchi: She is a trans girl and is so, so pretty!  She’s a lesbian and dating Yachi.  She doesn’t mind playing on the boys’ team because of the fact that most of them are trans like her and don’t push any boundaries.

Yachi: She is also a trans girl, which is how she and Yamaguchi bonded (besides being on the same team).  Literally she and Yamaguchi are the cutest lesbian couple you will ever see.

Kiyoko: Another trans girl, which is why she is so overprotective of Yachi. She’s straight and loves Tanaka for always defending her.

Nekoma

Kenma: Nonbinary but uses he/him pronouns and presents as man.  He’s gay but doesn’t form crushes easily.  Totally in love with Hinata and was the first person to call Hinata ‘Shouyou’ even after Hinata said he was trans.  Although he never actually confesses his feelings to Hinata, he still stays in his life and supports him as long as he can.  Would also probably send money over to Brazil and tell him to get top surgery and then gets to see the photos of Hinata in a tank top on the beach (Kenma can’t handle the cuteness)

Kuroo: Bisexual but still struggles to date anyone (Kenma always teases him about it) and is in love with Yaku but acts like he’s not.

Yaku: He’s a trans boy who gets a lot of dysphoria around his height thinks about killing Lev whenever they make a comment on it.  He’s pansexual and acts like he hates Kuroo, yet he’s in love with him.

Lev: They’re non-binary, only the team uses they/them pronouns because Lev was informed people at the school may not be all that accepting of someone who only uses they/them pronouns.  Also gay and has a thing for Hinata (like everyone does) and wants to show that they are cool enough for Hinata to date them.

Kai is straight and cisgender but he is the most understanding towards everyone. He will sit and listen to them talk or go shopping with them if they’re too scared to go alone or just practice with them a bit longer.  He’s just a good person.

Aobajohsai

Oikawa: He’s homoromantic asexual.  Feels like he has to act overly sexual at times because he has a rough relationship with his sexuality.  He’ll fight anyone who is transphobic or homophobic to anyone though.  Kind of has a thing for Sugawara but will never say it.

Iwaizumi: A transboy that has had toxic masculinity driven into him since he was really young.  Oikawa tries to help him with getting rid of that mindset but instead Iwaizumi lashes out at Oikawa, which Tooru prefers than the other doing it to himself. Iwaizumi is pansexual but just hasn’t had any attraction to anyone due to dealing with his gender.

Kunimi: He’s gay.  I don’t have anything else to add, just that he’s gay.

Hanamaki: So gay and teases Oikawa about the fact that he has a boyfriend while Oikawa doesn’t.

Matsukawa: Bisexual and dating Hanamaki.  Also makes fun of Oikawa but not as much.

Fukurodani

Akaashi: Genderfluid with the base pronouns of they/them for people they know very well and he/him for people they don’t know very well.  They have she/her days very rarely but when they happen, Bokuto always somehow knows and brings something pretty for the setter to wear like a bracelet or clip on earrings.  They’re pansexual and have an intense crush on Bokuto, who is oblivious.

Bokuto: Biggest Akaashi supporter you will ever meet.  He’s gay and in love with Akaashi and doesn’t know if he’s actually gay if he’s in love with them.  Yukie has to explain to him how he can still be gay and be in love with Akaashi.  He and Akaashi don’t start until they’re both done with high school.

Shiratorizawa

Goshiki: A nervous bisexual who is constantly overwhelmed by how pretty everyone is.  He leans more towards girls but has his fair share of gay panic (Ushijima).

Tendou: He is extremely gay and in love with Ushijima.  He starts crafting all these elaborate ideas on how to confess and then Ushijima confessed instead.

Ushijima: Demiromantic gay.  Probably thought he was aromantic for a long time until he realized he was in love with Tendou.  Probably told Tendou that if he had just said he liked him, then he would’ve accepted without a huge show.

Semi: They are nonbinary and their main pronouns are they/them, which the team uses, while everyone else uses he/him because they’re scared of people harassing them.  They also just continue to dress like a high school ‘boy’ and doesn’t feminize themselves because they don’t like how the media portrays every nonbinary person doing that to be valid when they’re happy in their own skin but just use different pronouns and isn’t called any masculine terms like guy/boy/man.  Hasn’t figured out their sexuality.

Shirabu: This little shit is gay and in love with Semi but doesn’t know how to show affection.  He insults them (not in a bigotry way) instead of complimenting them and assumes they’d understand he likes them.  Most likely will never confess.

Date Tech

Aone: He’s gay, in love with Hinata, and knows he doesn’t have a chance sadly.

Koganegawa: Biggest bisexual you’ll ever meet, he leans more towards guys but claims he’s more into girls. Probably fell in love with Hinata the moment he saw him but will never admit to it.

Miscellaneous

Sakusa: He’s homoromantic asexual.  He starts off as being sex repulsed in high school because germs and messes, also just doesn’t see the appeal.  Becomes sex neutral when he joins MSBY Black Jackal, still doesn’t care for sex but would maybe do it if he loved his partner enough (also things would be as mess free as possible).

Atsumu: Raging homosexual who falls in love easily but falls out of love just as fast.  In love with Hinata, fell out of love while the other was away in Brazil but all his feelings come back when he sees him ay MSBY Black Jackal try-outs.  Tried to confess once and Kageyama told him that he wasn’t worthy enough to date their best friend (Tsukishima agreed with them too).  Hinata confesses and asks why it’s taken Atsumu for so long and they fall (more) in love.

Osamu: He’s pansexual and really tired of dealing with Atsumu’s gay panic. Probably told him that Hinata loves guys who have a slit in their eyebrows just to see his brother look stupid for a month while it grew back.

Hoshiumi: Incredibly gay. He is in love with Hinata but thinks it’s just a rivalry.  Is jealous of Kageyama because he thinks they dated Hinata when Kageyama would rather choke on their own vomit than date someone they see as a brother.

[sweeethinny]

The One - Chapter 2

ok, this one I took a LOT to update (I won't lie, I gave up, but someone asked me about it, and I came back)

part one for those who don't even remember

tw: drugs and alcohol (I do not encourage or support the use of any of these substances :))

‘’May I know why we’re inviting my sister to drink illegally with us?’’ Ron asked as soon as he entered Harry’s room, throwing himself on the bed and looking at the ceiling. The boy finished putting on his shirt, buttoning his muggle jeans and trying to straighten his hair

''Because she is alone, and it would be nice'' Harry shrugged, pretending that it was normal for him to be wearing a lot of perfume and worrying about the look ''I didn't force you to call her, I just commented. You who invited her’’ Ron groaned in disapproval, running his hand over his face and ruffling his hair

‘’You’ll take care of her if she gets sick’’ The redhead pointed a finger at him, trying to be threatening

''Okay, I already took care of you'' Harry shrugged, sitting in the armchair that was nearby, stretching his feet on the open window sill ''Mione coming?'' He raised his eyebrows maliciously, just licking his lips to provoke Ron. Which worked, since he had turned red like a chili

'’Shut up, Potter. Of course she comes, you invited her’’ Ron countered

‘’But you were the one who insisted .. maybe today you’ll take courage and kiss her’’ Harry commented happily, enjoying the discomfort of others

‘’In the same way as you did with Cho? What did it take? A year?’’ His friend had his point, Harry knew that, but it was still embarrassing to remember that

‘‘Fuck you’’ He threw the pillow at the redhead, making him fall down again, laughing at his misfortune.

‘’But seriously, if Gin wants to come, we’ll have to take care of her. Mom would kill me if something happened to her precious girl’’ Ron continued to lie down, hugging Harry’s gray pillow, but looking serious

‘‘I’ll take care’’ Harry said, not wanting to show much enthusiasm ‘’My dad will send us to the basement as soon as Sirius steps in here, so we just left there after a few good hours’’ He smile excited.

The basement was an activity that had started a few years ago. Since the first year of Hogwarts, when the holidays came, Ron and Harry would take shelter for a few hours to talk or play the muggle video game that his mother had given to him. Then they added horror movies. Then, it became the place where they kept seeing magazines that clearly weren't for their age, commenting and making stupid jokes that 13/14 year old boys make. Finally, it became the place where the two spent hours when there was a dinner that Harry wanted to escape.

Lily worked as a healer at St Mungus Hospital, while James was in the Ministry, and for two years he was Head of the Department of Magical Sports and Games, so it was common for dinners to be held with friends from work, or just a meeting of the Marauders. And as much as Harry loved his mother's food, and the stories from school time, he was a teenager who preferred to stick in the basement with his friend, and not have to care about etiquette or any of those things.

The increment of drinks, had happened in the Easter vacation of last year, when Harry stole one of the liters of mead that the father had kept in the office. He and Ron were lying on the old sofa that his mother left there, drinking and watching another horror movie, during all the hours that dinner with his mother's co-workers (The Girls' Night, as she liked to call it) 

‘’Today’s what night? Men’s Night?’’ Ron asked, throwing the pillow up and then picking it up, Harry continued to look at the trees in the back of his house, wondering if Ginny would be too long to come ..

‘’Something like that, I think other guys will come too ..’’ Would she wear skirts? Girls were fucking hot in skirts…

‘‘I find it kind of impossible that they don’t suspect a bit of what we do down there’’ Ron sighed ‘’Your dad isn’t stupid’’

''I bet they think we’re dating each other'' Harry said, laughing and winking at Ron, who looked at him like he was the craziest person in the world ''Mom has already commented that it's okay if I'm gay .. Not that I'm despising you, but you're not my style.'' His friend hit him with the pillow, fighting back the last attack, and Harry laughed out loud at his fury.

‘’As if I would want to be with someone like you .. What’s your problem with redheads?’’ Well, Harry thought, it isn’t all the redheads.

‘’Boys?’’ His mother’s low voice came from the other side of the door, and the boy almost laughed when he saw Ron adjust himself on the bed. The woman came in, smiling at them, waving to the redhead ‘‘Hello dear .. Are you going to stay in the basement?’’

''Yes, I think Mione and Ginny will come too'' Harry knew in that second that he should have shut up, just from the look his mother had given him, he knew he would probably get one of those shameful sex conversations soon ''Nothing confirmed!'' He raised his hands, almost begging her to forget the slip.

‘’I’ll leave you enough food. Have fun!’’

[...]

‘’Mom almost didn’t let me come’’ Ginny said, sitting next to Harry on the old light blue sofa, folding her legs and smiling at him, who should be looking at her like he was an idiot.

Ginny was… pretty would be an understatement. Her pants were made of red plaid, gloriously covering her thighs and tightening at the waist with the help of a black dragon leather belt. The top showed a piece of skin on her belly, it was white and looked as if it had been cut and sewn to give her the thin straps and straight neckline that showed the entire bust covered with freckles, which had been very present in the boy's imagination since he had seen one of the afternoons they swam together. The red hair was tied in a high ponytail, leaving the whole neck exposed. And Ginny had gained a few inches in black sneakers.

‘’Maybe it’s because you forgot the rest of the fabric on the shirt?’’ Ron pointed at her bust and her belly shows. ‘’It’s a respected house, girl!’’ He joked, but if Harry was sincere, he couldn’t care less.

‘’Shut up, Ronald’’ She said, rolling her eyes and smiling at Harry ‘‘So, drinking illegally huh?’’ Her red eyebrows rose maliciously as she licked her pink lips ‘’Since when do you do this? And why was I never called?’’

‘‘Because Ron worries that you’ll see him vomiting all over the place’’ Harry teased, dodging the pillow his friend threw at him, and laughing along with Ginny.

‘’Watch out Ron, Mione doesn’t like disgusting boys’’ She warned him ‘’She’s coming, isn’t she? Her mother said she was coming’’ Harry nodded, stretching his feet on the coffee table, not wanting to pay much attention to the contour of her breasts or her neck, using all of his brain power to turn on the video game.

He would be a dead man if he let his other head command him.

[...]

‘’Do you think they’re kissing?’’ Ginny asked, sitting across from him on the floor, looking closely at his fingers rolling the joint

‘’No’’ Harry continued to concentrate on work ‘’Ron isn’t too drunk to offer this’’ She laughed, shrugging her shoulders and slightly denying it, making him lighter and looser. He could even look at her neck without thinking how good it must be to put his mouth there.

‘’Since when do you do this?’’ She took the joint in her hands, still curiously evaluating it ‘’And what’s the fun of smoking?’’ Harry took it again, not wanting to pay much attention to the shock that burned his nerves

''You will see .. Mione must have curled up with my mom'' He said, looking at the stairs and not listening to any steps that indicated his friends were returning from the task of getting more food ''She is more nervous than me when we need to lie''

‘’This is’’ Ginny looked at him provocatively ‘’Every time you get together?’’ Harry laughed, amazed at how beautiful she looked in the yellowish light and the purple and blue reflections on the TV

‘’Almost always .. And we started last Easter, along with Seamus’’ The boy lit the joint, inhale it under Ginny’s steady gazes, almost cutting it in half. He even thought he was going to choke on her attention. ‘‘Want?’’ Harry hoped she was just going to take - or refuse - where she was, but the redhead moved out of her place to stand beside him, placing the pillow dangerously close and taking the joint from her hand

‘’How do that?’’ She raised the cigarette to look at it better before putting it on her lips like Harry had done, making him feel things he normally felt when he was alone at night.

‘’Gulf and .. this... how do you know how to do it?’’ He laughed, seeing her cheeks flush almost immediately, the hot smoke rising from her lips and her eyes getting slightly lighter, shining in the light

''Instinct, I guess?'' Ginny laughed, returning the cigarette to Harry and looking at him ''That's good'' Her brown eyes looked like the caramel candies he ate, so sweet they would give him teeth pain if concentrate too much. ‘’It’s fun’’ Her freckled nose wrinkled, a lovely smile on her face.

Harry didn't know if it was marijuana thinning his neurons or if Ginny was really approaching and looking very close to kissing him, with parted lips and the tip of her tongue showing. He wanted to do this so badly, and it only took a little movement to make it happen like in the perverted dreams he had of the night.

‘’Very good’’ He said, not sure if he was saying about marijuana, proximity, or her entirely.

When Harry thought about making the move, grabbing her right there, the noises on the stairs rumbled throughout the basement, the voices of Ron and Mione filling the room and making her jump back as if she had just seen a dragon or worse.

‘’Hey you… oh, have you started without us? Damn man, I thought we agreed’’ Ron threw himself in front of them, dropping the packages of chips, cookies and pieces of pie on the table

‘’Are you two okay?’’ Mione asked, looking closely at them and stopping at Ginny ‘‘You look like you did the wrong thing’’

‘’I just smoked weed in a cellar, Hermione’’ The redhead said, laughing quietly as she took her piece of pie ‘‘Of course I look like someone who did the wrong thing’’

‘’If you say...’’ Hermione said, shrugging ‘’Gin, and Michael? I heard you were very friendly on the train’’ Harry’s chest seemed to wither like an old bladder, feeling kind of stupid for believing she wanted to kiss him

‘’Michael? Which Michael?’’ Ron asked, passing the cigarette back to Harry, who swallowed it with pleasure, wanting his mind to stop working on making him feel pathetic.

‘’ Corner...Ravenclaw.'' Ginny replied, laying her head on the sofa and looking even more flushed than before ''And we weren't friendly on the train, he just sat with me'' Harry never thought he would be envious of one of the Ravenclaw students, as he felt now, which was quite depressing if you were to analyze.

Maybe he had just imagined that whole moment when she looked like she was about to attack him.

[thosesouthparkimagines]

For You, Anything. (Cartman!Reader x Kyle)

(Y/N) Cartman. My full name. Sibling to the well known as an idiot, Eric Cartman. We were twins, I was born 10 minutes earlier, much to his dismay,and he always made my life a living hell for it. He did not think it was fair to him that he was younger, but that was the way it was. 

“(Y/NNNNNN). Come on. We’re gonna be lateeeee” my brother groans, his annoying voice slipping out as he whines. “Come onnnnn.” 

“Relax Eric, I’ll come when I come” I say, irritated. 

“Haha. Thats what she-”

“Finish that statement and I’ll punch your teeth in” . He goes silent. I’m the only one he’d listen to because he knows I won’t put up with his bullshit. 

“Finally. Jesus woman, you take forever to get ready” Eric says, sighing in relief when I finally come downstairs ready to go.

“Yeah, yeah. Lets just go before we miss the bus.” 

This was the first year I was attending school with Eric. When we were younger, we did not get along, so I went to live with our father. He got sick of me and sent me back to live with my mom and Eric, telling me to never contact him again, and then I was forced to finish my senior year of high school in a new city, with new people, with my twin brother, who I have learned, has the reputation of an asshole. 

We arrive down at the bus stop, where we  are met with four other boys our age. One  with black hair wearing a red and blue hat, one blonde haired kid, hiding most of his face in a parka, and the last one, a red haired boy, wearing a green hat. 

“Hey Cartman.” The one in the blue hat says, referring to my brother, but pauses when he sees me next to him. “Um. Who’s this” 

“Yeah she’s hot. I’d like to get a piece of that” the orange parka boy says. 

“I’m (Y/N) Car-” I’m cut off. 

“Her name is (Y/N). She just moved here. We’re neighbors.” He gives me a death glare which immediately tells me to shut my mouth. 

“Uh, Hi” I notice the guy in the green hat still hasn’t said anything to me. He just stares. It’s really creepy. 

“Fatass. What did you do to this poor girl?” Green hat guy asks, looking at me in concern. “She seemed scared out of her wits.” Oh I wasn’t scared. Eric wanted to pretend I wasn’t his sister, fine, but I’m going to play this to the best of my abilities. 

“He didn’t do anything to me” I say sweetly, batting my eyelashes, and the green hatted kid’s face goes bright red. “I never did catch your name. I don’t think its fair you know mine, but I don’t know yours” 

“Uh, K-Kyle”  he is  a red, stuttering mess. But his name fits him. I don’t exactly know how it fits so well, but just by looking at his face, it matches. The green eyes, freckles littered around the bridge of his nose like stars at twilight. It’s soothing. We both get caught up in our staring we forget about the other three boys standing next to us, carrying on with their own conversation, or the fact that the school bus pulled up and was waiting for us to board. It seemed as if we were in our own little world. 

“Hey!”. It’s Eric’s screaming that breaks us out of our trance, both looking away with red cheeks that didn’t come from the freezing Colorado air. “Let’s gooooo” he whines, for the countless time this morning. 

“Jesus, fatass, okay we’ll get on” Kyle says, irritation easily changing his entire attitude.  He looks towards me and notions for me to get on the bus before him, after the other three had boarded and taken their seats. The entire bus ride was boring, just Kyle and Eric going back and forth between each other, insults making their way in every other word. I sat next to the boy with the blue hat that introduced himself as Stan, and behind the parka wearing boy named Kenny, who remained turned around in his seat no matter how many times he got yelled at. 

The bus ride to the small high school was short, too short for my liking. Talking with Stan and Kenny was a lot of fun, and I didn’t want to end it. But as quickly as our friendship had come, the conversations had come to an end.  

“Hey, (Y/N)! What class do you have first?” Stan asks, as we exit the bus and stand at the entrance of South Park High. It reminded me of the school back home, with the obvious cliques seen just by gazing around the campus, and the judgemental looks I felt by anyone who walked by. 

“Um, English, with um Mr.Garrison?” 

“Oh shit dude” Kenny speaks “You’re with me!”. He slings his arm across my shoulders and flashes me a bright smile.

“Woah, Kenny, you got Garrison?” Cartman asks, bursting out laughing. “Oh man that’s great”

“What’s so bad about Garrison?” I ask, shrugging off Kenny’s arm, blind to the glare Kyle sent towards the parka wearing boy. 

“Oh man what isn’t wrong with him? He was our fourth grade teacher and  underwent like 4 sex changes, went from being gay, to lesbian, to straight, back to gay, and then became president and tried to build a wall between us and Mexico. He insane” Stan says, making elaborate hand gestures to show effect. 

“He seems crazy, you guys must have had a rough childhood from that. I’m sorry”. All three boys laugh at that. 

“You have no idea how rough our childhood was” Kyle chuckles. The second he finishes laughing, the bell rings, sending us in our separate ways in promise to meet up for lunch. I follow Kenny towards the classroom, eager to see the man that seemed so bad. Upon entering the room, Mr.Garrison is standing in front of several rows of desks, a chalkboard behind. Could they not afford computers and screens? The old school I attended had them. Mr.Garrison was an older man, half balding with grey hair as the little he had. Some sort of puppet was on his left hand. Great, he seemed as crazy as the guys made him out to be. 

“Oh. You must be the new girl.” Mr.Garrison says, and I nod, and walk up to him. 

“Could you not mention my last name please? I’m trying to avoid people knowing” I say quietly to him, and he looks at his roster and his eyes widen. 

“(Y/N) Cartman? You’re related to that little asshole?” He says loudly, but not loud enough for anyone to hear, just the person standing behind me. 

“You’re related to Cartman?” I hear Kenny’s muffled, but shock filled question. I turn around and cover his mouth, or where I think his mouth is. 

“You can’t tell anyone! You have to promise me!” I say quickly, and Kenny chuckles. 

“Oh man, Kyle has a thing for you and you’re related to that fatass. Good luck”. He turns towards the rows of desks and sits down, patting the seat next to him, motioning for me to sit. I take the desk next to him, and next to another kid. He seems to be wearing a letterman jacket, with brown hair. Just by the way he was sitting, it was easy to see that he was cocky. The second I sat down in my seat beside Kenny, he turns his entire body away from the blonde girl he was talking with. 

“I haven’t seen you around here. Are you new?” He asks “I’m Clyde, Clyde Donivian” he says, extending a hand out towards me.

“(Y/N).” I give him a smile. 

“A beautiful name for a beautiful girl” he says, flashing a smile, when Kenny interrupts. 

“Back off Donivan. Kyle’s called dibs” Kenny chuckles, and in return Clyde pouts, going back to flirting with the girl in the opposite side of him. I turn towards Kenny. 

“What do you mean that Kyle called dibs? I’m not something that you can just, claim” I say, before turning and facing forward as the bell rings. Kenny attempts to get my attention throughout the rest of class but I chose to ignore him, still a bit upset. 

Soon enough lunch comes, and I make my way towards the cafeteria, after stopping and asking for directions a few times. Entering the loud, crowded cafeteria, instantly notoicing the orange parka and green hat, she makes a beeline towards the only group she really knows. She makes it about halfway when she’s whipped away by a blue hooded man, towards another table. 

“What? Hey!” She says, attempting to getr out of this strangers grasp. Being this close to him, she began to notice a few things. His black hair stuck out in small parts of his hood, and he had extremely blue eyes. He leads me towards a table. I recognize the brown haired boy from class, Clyde, but there was also two other boys seated there. 

“Craig-ack! You can’t just-just drag her here!” the blonde haired boy says, his words stuttered. 

“Yeah! You should have asked her!” he turns to me. “I uh, I’m sorry about Craig here. I’m Token. These are my friends, Tweek-” he points to the blonde one, “Craig” he points to the one still holding onto me, who in return flips them off, “and Clyde”. 

“Uh, hi? Why am I over here?” I ask, turning towards the boys at the table 

“Well, you’re hot, we’re hot, you should be with us” Clyde speaks up, attempting to wink. 

“Yeah- uh, no. I’ll be going back now” I say, attempting to leave, but Craig, still silent, grabs hold of my arm. 

“Sit” his voice finally speaks. Not wanting to go against him, I sit on the empty side of the table, as far as I could from the boys, which becomes futile as Craig sits right beside me. 

“So, (Y/N). What brings you to south park?” Token asks

“I decided to move back with my mom who lives here” is all I say, not really wanting to talk to the guys who quite literally kidnapped me. 

“Ack- you’re-you’re from here?” Tweek says, to which I give a nod. 

“(Y/N)!” I hear a voice and my head whips around, and I see Kenny storming towards me. He grabs hold of my arm and takes me from the table, much to their irritation. “Why are you with these assholes? You’re supposed to be with us!” he says, beginning to drag me back towards their table. 

Stan seemed to be interested into the black haired girl sitting at the table, while Kyle and Eric were arguing over something. The second I arrived back at their table, they go silent,. Kyle sends me a smile as I sit, which I return. 

“Where the hell were you (Y/N)? You were supposed to be here ten minutes ago!” Eric complains “Not like you care, but Craig and his crew apparently had something important to say to me”

“You were with Craig's crew! Stay away from them! They’re not good influences!” I roll my eyes

“It wasn’t like I wanted to go over there” 

“Whatever. Give me my cheezy poofs-” Eric mumbles, before I throw the bag of the chips at him. 

“Fatass- stop harassing the new girl! Bring your own cheey poofs” Kyle says 

“Well our mom packed them for me but then she put them in (Y/N)’s bag instead of mine.” Kyle freezes 

“Wait- are you- related to fatass” Kyle asks, looking towards me. 

“I-uh, yeah. He’s my twin” I admit. Instantly Kyle is up out of his seat and making his way into the hall. 

I look towards Stan, since they seem to be the closest, but he shrugs, as if not knowing what to say. 

The rest of the day goes without a hitch. I finish my classes and make my way home, choosing to walk rather than ride the bus. Kyle refused to look me in the eye the rest of the day, which really hurt. 

Once I arrive home, I head straight up to my room, not stopping to listen to Eric calling our mother all the names he could for the mix up at lunch. Shutting and locking the door behind me, I sigh, pulling out my headphones and starting my homework. I had a lot to catch up on, especially since I came in the middle of the school year, but It was easy, especially because I had already learned most of it from my other school. 

A solid and hard knock on my window is what jolts me from my focus. I whip my head around to see the familiar green hat outside my window. Instantly I go and open it, allowing him to crawl in and sprawl on my bedroom floor. A few puffs of his red hair stuck out of his hat as he went to catch his breath. 

“What-what are you doing here?” I ask, sitting back on my bed. Last I checked, he was angry at me for being related to Eric. It’s not like I could change that. 

“I-I wanted to apologize” he says, sitting up after catching his breath. “I shouldn’t have gotten mad. I just, couldn’t believe you’re related to the fatass” 

“Our parents separated when we were young. Our father took me away with him. He soon sent me back here” I say. “I hardly know Eric.” 

“You both are so different. You’re so amazing. You’re smart, kind, pretty-” he pauses, his cheeks going bright red. “I-I didn’t mean that. No- I’m mean, you are pretty, I just didn’t mean to say it- no I did mean to say it agh!” he says, before falling silent. 

“Kyle-” 

“Damnit! I have feelings for you and the fact that you’re related to that asshole-”

“Kyle” 

‘You’re so much different than he is and I really like you, and I-”

“Damnit Kyle just shut up!” I shout, which finally gets his attention. “I like you too okay? Now stop being such a baby about this” I say

“Wait-you-you feel the same?” he asks, to which I nod.

“I thought it was obvious-” I can’t finish my sentence before he throws himself onto me, kissing me. I’ve read somewhere that the first kiss feels like fireworks, but this seem to feel better. 

He doesnt stop, even when we both need air, he pulls back and goes right back into kissing me, shifting until he’s hovering over me on my bed. When he finally pulls away, we’re both panting, red in the cheeks. 

“Does this mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” Kyle asks, before lying next to me. 

“That depends, if you’re willing to put up with Eric”

“For you? Anything”

[sinfulspencer]

have you ever questioned your sexuality?

yes.

i'm going to write everything down below, feel free to skip this question because it's going to be a bit tough to read.

religion has always been a big part of my life because my parents are catholic, the kind of catholics that follow the "laws" of that religion quite strictly (they say so but lmao it's not true at all, they like to think so).

my parents have always taught me that the only "real" love is between a woman and a man. two men or two women can't be in love; if they are, it's because something traumatic happened to them and made them hate the opposite sex.

they also said the usual stupid things some people are convinced of: homosexuals are just straight people who are scared of the other sex, homosexuals are against nature and all the worst insults you can think of.

they said so many things that made me feel sick to my stomach. catholicism is based on love, yet these people have twisted the words and turned them against others.

you don't even know what my parents said (and still say) about gay people, but most importantly against bisexuals.

when i started high school, i meet a beautiful girl on twitter. we became friends but we lived far from each other (I live in Northern Italy, she lives in Southern Italy). she had a girlfriend when we met but she broke up with her because a lot happened between them.

a couple of months later i started to feel something for her. we used to call each other every single day, we would talk about everything and anything, we were just.. in sync.

that's when i realised i might have felt something for a girl, i began to question my heterosexuality.

me, being a catholic and attracted to a woman? i couldn't believe it, i didn't want to believe it.

i felt sick because my parents' words haunted me.

me? a catholic person, in love with person of the same sex?

i denied those feelings for months, convinced that i was straight and i was just really feeling happy with someone like her by my side. i was feeling sick every single day because this thought, this situation was heavy and i couldn't bear it any longer.

so i took matter into my own hands and i talked with that girl: i told her how i felt, how conflicted i was with my own feelings and how my parents' words were hurting me.

she told me that she understood how i was feeling, but she was going to wait for me because she liked me back.

in that exact moment i was like: okay, she likes me, so what's the point in not being with her? love is love, love is never wrongs; how can loving someone as beautiful and caring as her can be wrong?

so we got together.

then we broke up a couple of months ago because distance was getting the best of us and we both started to lose interest. now we still talk, we're still friends and she'll always be my first love, my first kiss and the first person who made me realise that being "not-straight" is okay.

after that, i realised that i was bisexual.

i've always been attracted to men and being with her, made me realise that i was attracted to people general. i didn't care wether they were women, non-binary, men, everything else.

i loved people, i didn't care about their gender.

then... throughout high school i stopped having crushes on girls and focused on a guy.

this guy made me question my bisexuality.

i thought "what if i had been straight this whole time and was just into that girl?".

obviously i didn't tell my parents about my sexuality because i knew they were going to dismiss it and tell me that bisexuality doesn't exist, because that's exactly what they think.

my cousin is gay but he was engaged to a bisexual man.

they kept calling his boyfriend "gay", which is not correct. that guy was bisexual, not gay - not that there's anything wrong with being gay, that's not it at all.

if a person is bisexual, they're bisexual. not gay.

my parents called him "gay" (they actually used a slur I don't even want to use because that makes me sick) because he was with my cousin, because they were two men in a relationship.

they said that bisexuality doesn't exist, that bisexuals are just gay people who can't pick a person to be with, that bisexuality is disgusting and sick, and bisexuals shouldn't even exist because they're the worst species on earth,

so... the presence of that guy from high school and my parents words made me question again my bisexuality. i felt like i wasn't a real bisexual because i didn't have a crush on anybody else in a long time, like i decided to pick a particular person of a gender (in this case, a guy) and stuck with it.

then... my other ex girlfriend came around and i finally came to the realization that no, I'm not straight.

i'm bisexual.

and that's it, just a bisexual girl who wants to be loved and wants to love other people.

hope that makes sense and answered to your question. x

[originalwinnercheesecake]

Top 5 relationships in The Mortal Instruments

Lets be real the shadowhunter chronicles has grown into a huge world world with more characters than could ever all stay in one in any one institute (and remember institutes are for some reason designed to accommodate the same number as nice hotels) and because so many of them interact we have had some pretty cool characters and some pretty great relationships. I thought I would make ranking lists ranking the my personal favorites for members of family as well relationships in each series. IMPORTANT: When I say “relationships” I am not being specific to any one type of relationship (romantic/family/friend). I just mean two characters who share a type of bond.

Since The Mortal Instruments or TMI, came out first I will start with it. 5 relationships in TMI who have really well done dynamic’s and I want to take this opportunity to spotlight them below

5.) Jace & Church

Aww Church, he was doing the grumpy cat act before it was cool. Everybody loves Church. Church loves Jem and likes exactly one person per series/generation. In TMI the one person Church likes is Jace. Now other instances you could argue that Church liking Jace is just another attempt of CC to enforce that Jace (mr. blond hair, gold eyes, gold skin, takes a bath in golden spaghetti) is the golden boy and everybody should like him. But once you look at who Jace and Church are as characters (what character Jace has that's not referenced by his aforementioned coloring) them being buddies makes a lot of sense. For one thing we know from the falcon story that Jace is fond of animals that have adittutes, which Church certainly does. The first time he made friends with such an animal Valentine... But Valentine is gone when Jace meets Church, and none of the Lightwoods mind if Jace wants to goof off with the cat (to them that’s probably one of the least reckless things Jace likes to do). So for Jace Church is in essence a way to reclaim part of his childhood that Valentine tried to twist and corrupt.

On the other side I love how respectful Jace is of Church’s boundaries. Guys Church has a past as extensive and hard as any other character in TSC. HE has been both a pet and a wild cat many times over, he ha been treated well by some humans, and horribly by others. This is no purring kitty-cat that is going  to just climb into someones lap wanting hands run through his fur or to be picked up and carried around. No Church doesn’t like that. Jace understands this, and never tries to force Church to let him handle him. IF Church wants Jace to touch him he will take the initiative and walk up to Jace’s leg. If not Jace is perfectly happy to hang out in a room or follow the cat at a distance, pretending to chat with him. I saw a post that said that even after Church got reunited with Jem (churches OTH) Church still considers Jace his buddy and they hang out during visits, that is precious.

4.) Alec and Magnus aka Malec

Aww Here they are, fandom darlings and CC’s poster couple for LGBT+ inclusion. I promise that is not why I put them on this list. I actually never give characters or couples brownie points for being same sex or anything like that because so many writers try to get away with making “Gay” a characters whole personalty or squeezing in characters for the sole purpose of saying “look inclusion, look I can be woke” and then they don’t consider it necessary to put the level of characterization they would into a straight character in. I do like inclusion and feel it is important, but only when it is fully developed to the best of a creators abilities.

Now I will admit here that Malec are only my second favorite romantic couple in TMI. That being said I do really like them. I like the pace that their relationship develops at. When other couples did the whole love at first sight or suddenly inexplicably in love. Malec moved at what I consider a pretty realistic pace and you could easily follow their journey. In book 1 they met at a party and decided the other was pretty cute, started to spend time together on occasions, started to like each other, then started to really like each other. It’s  not until  the very end of book 6 where you fee like the two are really committed to the whole “Okay it’s you and me till the end” idea, and you are glad to finally see them there.

That brings me to my second reason for liking Malec. They are a hot mess, as all three main couples are, but unlike with the other two Malec never pretended to be anything other than a hot mess. If I compared Malec to Clace i would say that Clace follow a pretty typical fairy tale formula: I met you and I loved you, then the evils in the world conspired to keep us apart, but I fought my way back to you and now we can live happily ever after. Malec aren’t like a fairy tale though. They are that high-school/early college couple who are consistently on and off. The rocks in their path aren’t “evil forces” it’s just them. Just the fact that they both have a tendency to be whinny, stupid, jealous, controlling, a!@#$”s to each other. Honestly if they didn’t care so much about each other, then they would be a really toxic couple. But they do care a lot about each other. They hated when they were always fighting. They hated seeing each other so sad. But they couldn’t just forget about their problems or pretend them away. So many times throughout TMI Malec would find themselves at a cross road where on one path they force themselves to change and see if that made their relationship better , and another path were they decide that it is just to much to and call it quits. They broke up twice because they got to times where it was just to much to keep going the way they were and neither were ready to change. But then they couldn’t stop thinking about the other or missing the other. So, when they met up again they would always reconcile and be ready to put in the work to change their relationship for the better.  Looks like those changes worked out given that years down the line we see then happy, married with two kids, happy at their jobs, hosting social gathering with their friends as apposed to before when they would always spend then picking at each other or having an outright fight.

Malec are not perfect, TMI never pretends they are. They are both a lot to deal with and at least a few times one of them will slam their hands down on some surface, and I as a reader found myself wishing I could bring my hands down on the pair of thems heads. But I consider Malec a pretty gritty look at what any couple can be like at their lows, as well as the highs they can reach if they are willing to put in the time and work, and exactly why some are willing.

3.) Maia and Bat

What? What was that? If Malec are only my second favorite couple in TMI then who is my favorite? Oh, it’s Baia. Baia is like literally the perfect couple. They met years ago became best friends, tried dating and went back to being best friends when Maia-who had just gotten out of an abusive relationship and was still recovering- told Bat that was all she could handle. Their friendship is shown in the background throughout books 2-5 and we see that they always have each others backs. We see Bat is always their for Maia, always trying to take her out as a friend and convince her to have fun. Maia supports Bat’s DJ career and talks about how much she admires him for perusing such a normal mundane life because (regardless of the fact that they aren’t normal mundanes) its what he wants. Their relationship is brought to more of a focus in book 6 when shadowhunters leave, demons attack and their fellow downworlder start staging uprisings. Both of these two are still so young, and now (with their Alpha away indefinitely) their whole world is falling apart. Fixing this isn’t their job, no one has tasked them with it, but its the only way to keep themselves, each other, and everything they love safe. SO they make the choice to take action. Like everything in their lives since they met, they make a point to always support each other. Bat challenges an aggressive wolf for control of the pack because he has sen this wolf go bully those close to Luke and is determined to protect Maia. When Bat goes down in the fight Maia tags herself in and fights to protect him. When Maia wins she wakes up Bat isn’t upset or embarrassed that she had to save him, He immediately throws support to her as his Alpha. One of Maia’s first act is to make Bat her Beta because they are a team and their is no one she trusts more. They rebuild their pack and the Predator Lupis together, and also get back together. But that is less important because no matter what their relationship they have always and will always be there. 

Seriously when every other couple acted stupid, was over dramatic, were never sure where they stood with each other; Maia and Bat were true friends, true love, and unwavering in their support. So what keeps them from being number 1 on this list? Well were still a background relatonship for most of TMI (a lot of the fandom either didn’t remember or didn’t care that they got together at the end or that they were even friends). Also knowing CC and general media aimed at TMI’s age group I have to unfortunately believe that if CC had wanted to bring more focus onto Maia and Bat,then she would have made them way more dramatic and less awesomely supportive. Moving on

2.) Valentine and Luke

I can hear the gasps from here. No, not read that wrong, it really says Valentine and Luke. How could I talk just get praising a supportive pair only to go and talk about a pair that betrayed and tried to annihilate the other? Well for one thing I will remind you Valentine and Luke whole dynamic is friends to enemies. As that they really work. Luke never had what it takes to be a shadowhunter on his own. He says himself that he couldn’t bear easy marks, he couldn’t do simple training exercises, he was miserable and ready to just drop out and give up. Then Valentine “came into my room and offered to train me”.  Even in the future Luke says that in their first interactions that Valentine saved him. That he is the one who made Luke into a shadowhunter. Well truth be told Valentine made Luke more of an assistant Shadowhunter, to him, but it is still farther than Luke was getting on his own, and its completely genuine when he says he loved and worshiped Valentine. You see why he was so blind to what Valentine (Stop trying to pretend you were always in the right Lucian) what both of them were becoming. Valentine gave Luke a life as a shadowhunter, and then he took it away. Valentine thought he was covering himself, that he was getting rid of a doubtful ally before he had a chance to become an enemy.

Getting Luke turned into a werewolf was easily the biggest mistake of Valentine’s life. Shadowhunter Luke was never able to do anymore than listen to Valentines orders and carry them out with no thought but how much doing so would please Valentine (Shadowhunter Luke= Valentines pet lap dog.) Werewolf Luke could say no. He could fight Valentine to a stand still at least, beat him at best. Werewolf Luke had knowledge and insight as to the needs of both Downworlders and Shadowhunters, and used that knowledge paired with Valentine’s impediment threats to rally the downworlders and get them to force the clave to give up 4 seats on the council. Because of Luke Valentines war caused Downworlders to get more rights instead of less. (Shadowhunter Luke=Valentines pet lap dog. Werewolf Luke= has more brains and skill than Valentine) Valentine thought he was getting rid of a potential threat when he had Luke turned; instead he gave his strongest supporter the push needed to break away from him, and the motivation to take become the man who had enough power to foil all his plans. That their is Irony at its finest my friends. I love it.

And Now 1.) Jace and Simon

This is hands down the best relationship in TMI and should I ever make a top 5 relationships This one will definitely be in it. How can they not when they are literary the TSC equivalent of Batman and Superman. (I mean that quite literally by the way. Jace is Batman: A hero who lived a life of pain and loss and used that as a motivation to protect people and prevent harm. Simon is Superman: A hero who wasn’t born into this world, these people weren’t always his people, but he decided that this was his home now and he was going to make it a better place.) There are so many things I love about these two I love how well their relationship was paced in how as they got to know each other more they transitioned from enemies to rivals to friends to family. I love their banter. these two together make me laugh more than any other pair. The number one thing I love about Jace and Simon is how careful CC was to keep them standing on Equal ground.

I meant they weren’t equal when it came to who had Clary’s affections. No Jace won that battle the moment Clary ditched simon, who was in the process of asking her out, to go find out who Jace was and what he was doing at the club. But lets look at virtually every other factor. Both are young men only 16 who have suffered the loss of a loved one before and are fiercely loyal and protective of the ones they have left. Neither are always sure who they can trust. In book 1 Jace is introduced s having vanquished more demons than anyone else in their age group, Before the end of Book 1 Simon is revealed to be skilled in archery and uses that skill to vanquish an incredibly dangerous Greater Demon. In book 2 Simon dies then is brought back from the dead to rise again, Jace does the same, through admittingly different methods, one book later. Jace is from a powerful race of hunters (shadowhunters), lets make Simon a member of a another powerful race of hunters (vampires and then Shadowhunters). Oh it looks like Jace has extra gifts his blood is special. Jace gives Simon his blood and Simon now has extra gifts to. Both of them have been hunted over their gifts, both have tried to help and protect the other. Jace giving Simon that Blood was a huge sacrifice and then he sacrificed for him again by admitting what he did to Valentine, knowing it will anger Valentine and could cause him to lose love for Jace. So in the second half of the series Simon starts Sacrificing for Jace. He gives up not only the mark of Chain which protected him from harm, but also a beloved memory connecting him to his own late father. Jace showed Simon a lot of the Shadoworld, and Simon returned that by teaching Jace aspects of mundane life. He told him pop culture references, let him stay with him in his apartment, taught him to play video games, and even took him grocery shopping. (Ask me why Jace seems more human when he is with Simon yet more like a fantasy man with Clary)

After reading Tales From The Shadowhunting Academy I will say that Jace was the ONLY one of the TMI gang who deserved to get Simon back. He is the only one who ever seemed to think about how Simon must be feeling or made any effort to be there for him. Alec and Magnus ignored Simon and acted like they didn’t care that he was back, while Isabelle and Clary were both incredibly selfish and only seemed to think of themselves. They actually had the audacity to blame Simon for not remembering them, and make him feel more like crap for not being able to just walk back into a life they knew he couldn’t remember, knowing that he sacrificed his memories to save THEIR lives. Clary Isabelle I am so disappointed in you ladies. Jace you are doing great.

Ending this to anyone wondering if at this point if I ship Jimon; Yes. I think they would have made an awesome couple. I also think they are awesome as friends and brothers in law. Any way you slice it Jimon is top tear writing

This has been my top 5 TMI relationships. I will do a TID top 5 when I either learn how to make these smaller, or have the time to do one this long again. Heads up it will probably be the second one.

[carriagelamp]

~ Queer Lit 30 Day Book Challenge ~

I decided to do this challenge I came across for June! Originally it was designed as a “day-by-day” thing, but my June was way too hectic to do a write up every single day… so I decided to make a nice compilation for the end of the month instead!

This is perhaps not the “purest” form of the challenge but I wanted it to be personal for me. Growing up when I did and where I did, I had very little exposure to queer books, especially age-appropriate queer books. That being said, there’s some books on this list that are really only “queer” by technically, or through a secondary character rather than the main character. I debated whether to include these but finally decided that, yes, I would. I owe it to myself. Even though some of these books that aren’t “as queer” as other, they were (or are) really important to me as a queer person and my journey is understanding that, so I wanted to acknowledge them!

More info about the books and the challenge under the cut!

Day One: First Queer Book You Remember Reading

Color by Taishi Zaou and Eiki Eiki

Remember how I mentioned a lack of available, age-appropriate queer books? I was one of those kids who was definitely exposed (probably too young) to queer manga/yaoi. It wasn’t necessarily what I wanted, especially as a wee ace teen, but it was the best I had at the time and it meant the world to me at the time, to see same-sex relationships even if looking back on them is very “YIKES”.

I’m sure I read others before this, but Color is one of the first that I really remember and which I a) actually owned and which b) wasn’t completely repellent in hindsight! I haven’t reread it in probably over a decade so I have no idea how it stands up, but at the time it read like a much more “realistic” account of two teenagers developing a crush and starting a relationship and as a questioning teenager it really helped me realize that this was a real, viable option.

Day Two: Queer Book That Reminds You Of Home

The Witch Boy by Molly Knox Ostertag

I hummed and hawed about this one for a long time because honestly I tend to read books that make me feel far from home. I decided to go with The Witch Boy though because it’s a story that challenges gender norms and stars a large family out in the woods, running wild and exploring magic, and honestly it gives me vibes that remind me of vacationing with my extended family. We’re also partially ginger and inclined to run wild in the woods. If we knew magic we’d have used it for sure.

This book is about 13 year old Aster, who lives in a family where the women all become witches and the men all become shifters. Aster, however, has no interest in shapeshifting and instead finds ways to study magic and learn the arts of witchcraft while constantly being pushed out by his female relatives… though everything might change when a new danger, that may or may not be connected to Aster studying magic, begins to appear.

Day Three: Queer Book That Has Been On Your TBR Too Long

Beneath The Citadel by Destiny Soria

That was an easy choice, this has been sitting on my bookshelf for months, staring at me accusingly every time I enter my room. I’m really excited to read it (Magical heist? Rebellion? With an asexual protagonist? Yes please) but for some reason I have not gotten around to it. Some day, baby, some day.

Day Four: Queer Book With A Name Or Number In The Title

George by Alex Gino

George is an absolutely charming middle grade novel about a child named George who the world perceives as male… but who knows she’s definitely a girl. The novel begins when her class decided to put on a play about the novel they had just read: Charlotte’s Web. George is desperate to play Charlotte, her favourite character, but isn’t even allowed to try out because it’s a “girl’s role”. George and her best friend struggle with how to handle this problem and manage George’s secret amid elementary school and home drama.

This book is really adorable – it was a nice, easy, cozy read for an adult, and would also make a great read aloud to elementary-age children if you want to introduce them to transgender characters.

Day Five: Queer Book Where The Protag Has A Fun Job

The Magic Misfits by Neil Patrick Harris

Not actually a queer protagnoist, but a queer side character who plays a major role in the series. Mister Vernon, one of Leila’s fathers, has arguable the coolest job: he’s a retired stage magician turn magic shop owner, which is complete with large rabbit, hidden room, and tons of fascinating gadgets to help a young practical magician learn their trade. He is hands down one of the neatest character in the series and is a major catalyst throughout the series.

The first book follows Carter, a runaway orphan who practices street magic to get by, as he runs away from his horrible uncle and winds up meeting a gang of magic-loving friends in a small town. Hiding from his uncle is only the beginning though, and the mysteries surrounding the town and Mister Vernon become thicker and thicker as the series goes on.

Day Six: Favourite Queer Graphic Novel

Check, Please! by Ngozi Ukazu

There’s lots of fantastic queer graphic novels out there, but I have to name Check, Please! as my favourite (and not just because I’m Canadian and am legally obligated to at least show interest in a hockey story). Check, Please! is the friggin cutest story about Eric “Bitty” Bittle, former figure skater and avid baker, who joins the Samwell University hockey team. The story is told in the form of Bitty’s vlog as he recounts the bizarre quirks of the Samwell hockey team, his struggle to overcome his fear of checking, and his growing crush on the team captain, Jack. Seriously guys, this is cavity-inducing sweetness and you can read it all online for free, here on tumblr @omgcheckplease or at its own website, checkpleasecomic.

Day Seven: Queer Book You Often Reread

Boy Meets Boy by David Levithan

Another book I haven’t reread in years, but this was the first queer novel I ever read (and owned!) so I read it obsessively, first the copy from the high school library and then my own copy (which is, let us say, well-thumbed by this point). It was pure fluff, in an aggressively diverse, relentlessly accepting, rainbow-coloured high school and it was exactly what I wanted in high school, and it still makes me happy whenever I remember it. It’s a straight-up high school romance, pretty traditional to the genre, but it has the most delightful supporting cast you could ever ask for. Maybe I should reread it again this summer…

Day Eight: Queer Book With A Happy Ending

Of Fire and Stars by Audrey Coulthurst

This was a bit more of a “yeah it was fine” book for me, but honestly… queer people deserve some average, run-of-the-mill YA fantasies. As far as my normal reading preferences go, run-of-the-mill YA fantasies are my bread and butter. And this one has a cute sapphic romance to go with it. It’s about Denna, a princess with a dangerous secret: she has a magical Affinity for fire, despite being betrothed to the prince of a kingdom that aggressively prosecutes and fears magic-users. So now Denna is in a strange land, trying to hide her increasingly volatile magic, solve an assassination that rocked the kingdom, and deal with the growing connection between her and the prince’s wild sister, Mare. It has court intrigue, a murder mystery, horses, and lots of confused sapphic pining so it’s totally worth picking up if you want a light summer fantasy adventure.

Day Nine: Queer Book With (Over) 100 Pages

River of Teeth by Sarah Gailey

I decided to try to get as close to 100 pages as possible! River of Teeth is a 114-page novella that I haven’t quite finished (work and covid stress happened) but which I am fucking losing my mind for. I can’t recommend it enough. It’s peak alternative history, about queer hippopotamus-riding cowboys in Louisiana during the early 20th (late 19th?) century. Like… I don’t know how to emphasize how unbelievably cool this book is. Genderqueer demolition expert with a giant crush and a penance for making things blow up and attempting to poison guests when they’re bored?? Check. Gay gunslinging hippo-riding cowboy with an angsty backstory (and also a giant crush)? Check. Sexy, fat, badass lady con artist with an albino hippo that she spoils? Check. Like damn guys. I’m not done the book and I’ve already bought the sequel because I know the second I pick it back up I’m not gonna stop until I’ve ploughed through it all. This book is the epitome of “refuge in audacity” and “rule of cool”. Is it over the fucking top? Absolutely but that’s the point.

Day Ten: Favourite Queer Genre Novel

The Red Scrolls of Magic by Cassandra Clare

I’ll be honest, I’m a little shaky on what counts as a genre novel (isn’t… everything… a genre??) so I decided to interpret it as “slightly trashy YA supernatural fantasy” because that sure is a hella specific genre I’m weak for.

I really thought I was done with the Shadowhunter novels, I thought they were a goofy series I left behind in teenagerhood that I could look back on with amused indulgence. And then I found out that there was a novel specifically about Alec and Magnus and! Oh no! Ding dong I was wrong. I fell back in hard because listen… I love them. They were one of the first canonical same-sex relationships I ever read about in an actual novel, they meant a lot to me then and still mean a lot to me now. I have nothing to say to defend myself here except that this book wrecked me and I can’t wait for the sequel.

Day Eleven: Queer Book You Love In A Genre You Don’t Read

Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up With Me by Mariko Tamaki and Rosemary Valero-O’Connel

I am very rarely a slice-of-life / romance genre sort of person. I like my stories cut with a heavy dose of fantasy, scifi, action-adventure… something. So a graphic novel that’s not only a romance, but one about an unhealthy relationship and infidelity is like… super outside my usual range of reading material. But it was very much worth the read! The art was stunning, and the complicated emotions it tapped into really touched me. I’m very happy to have read it, and was so damn satisfied by the end.

Day Twelve: Queer Book With A Strong Sense Of Place

Belle Révolte by Linsey Miller

Linsey Miller is one author I very actively follow, I love her works and they always have very distinct, complicated worlds with unique societies and magic systems. Belle Révolte was her latest book and followed a prince-and-the-pauper type of story, in which wealthy Emilie des Marais is determined to learn noonday (magical) arts in order to become a physician, someone who can actually work to make her home a better place… but this is not something a proper lady would ever be allowed to do. So she flees her finishing school and meets poor, but magically gifted, Annette Boucher and offers her the chance to switch places. Annette goes back to school as “Emilie” and gets to hone her skills at the midnight arts while Emilie will use her name to sneak into medical school and fight her way up the ranks to physician. This is a challenging enough task, with rebellion roiling just beneath the surface and the country about to slip into a arrogant war that threatens the lives of hundreds…

Day Thirteen: Queer Book That Really Made You Think

Our Dreams At Dusk by Yuhki Kamatani

This is a four book manga series that is completely breath-taking. It’s touched by magical-realism and completely drowned in visually stunning metaphors and symbolism. Seriously, I’ve reread these books multiples times trying to digest how the wide variety of symbols overlap and contradict and compliment and challenge each other. I still haven’t really gotten a solid handle on it, it’s very fluid, so yeah… definitely makes me think.

The story starts with Tasuku Kaname who believes he may have just been outed as gay by a high school friend, and feels like he’s watching his entire world crumble around him. He is seriously considering taking his own life, when he runs into the mysterious woman “Someone-san” and winds up leading him to a drop-in center that’s run by a local non-profit, and is also a hub for a number of queer people in the community. The books follow Tasuku as he grows, learns, makes mistakes, and confronts his feelings, along with a number of other members at the drop-in center. It is completely beautiful, optimistic, but also quite stark and harsh at its look at homophobia and transphobia in modern Japanese society and how it can effect people in different ways. I just bought book four and can’t wait to read it and see how everything ends.

Day Fourteen: Queer Book That Made You Cry

The Marrow Thieves by Cherie Dimaline

Holy shit guys. Listen. Listen. If you don’t read any other book on this list, please consider reading The Marrow Thieves. It is hands down the best book I’ve read so far this year. Another book that doesn’t have a queer character as the protag, but as one of the main supporting characters and listen, his story fucking destroyed me as a person. That romance just… aaaaaaah. AAAAAAAAH.

Anyway. The Marrow Thieves is a Canadian dystopian novel. It takes place in a post-climate change world in which society has been ravaged – partially due to the wildly different and extreme weather patterns, but also through a strange disease that has spread through the population that has left people completely incapable of dreaming. Now unable to rest, process their lives, and dream of a future, people are being driven insane and only one group appears to be immune: North America’s First Nations people appear to be unaffected. And so they begin to be harvested, rounded up and collected in “school” in order for people to suck the marrow out of them to give to white people afflicted by this disease. The Marrow Thieves follows a First Nations boy named Frenchie as he flees the recruiters and tries his best to survive in this post-apocalyptic like wilderness, banding together with other First Nations people who are heading north, where they hope to find communities of their own people with whom they can shelter and start to rebuild their lives.

It’s a YA level novel, not very long, and such an insanely good read. I cannot emphasize enough PLEASE GO READ THIS BOOK. 

Day Fifteen: Queer Book That Made You LOL

Mostly Void, Partially Stars by Joseph Fink and Jeffrey Cranor

Welcome to Nightvale always makes me laugh and it was a lot of fun to get to read the transcripts of the episodes. I’m a sucker for novelizations/transcripts of shows. It was a nice nostalgia trip and gave me an excuse to go back and relisten to some of my favourite episodes too! If you’ve never gotten into Nightvale… hey, it’s a classic! Podcast is fucking stunning if you’re into podcasts, and if you’re not but would enjoy a weird, queer, eldritch horror comedy then try the book! It’s the first “season” compiled in text form, exactly how it’s heard in the show.

Day Sixteen: Queer Book That Is Really Personal To You

Jughead volume 1 by Chip Zdarsky et al

Including this one because gee golly it sure did make me want to fight a lot of people for quite a while. It was one of the first stories I ever found/read that had an explicitly asexual main character… (and a character I already really loved! Which I now got to feel an even stronger connection to! It was so fun and validating!) so it was super awesome how like half of tumblr decided for a year there that this was apparently a cardinal sin. Imagine… one single version of old, long standing comic series deciding to retcon a character to represent a heavily under-represented community… imagine being so fucking angry about that that you decide to start a hate campaign on the internet. So much fun to live through that as an ace person. Anyway, these comics were nothing amazing but I sure do love them aggressively out of pure spite, even now that the aphobia on tumblr has died back down I will hold this to my chest and adore it.

Day Seventeen: Favourite Queer Book Sequel or Spin Off

The Lady’s Guide to Petticoats and Piracy by Mackenzi Lee

Honestly do I even need to say anything here? Is there any queer person who hasn’t read Mackenzi Lee’s The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue series? If you are someone who hasn’t read it yet… go do that?? Absolutely stunning, one of my all-time favourite book series. It’s the perfect combination of hilarious and goofy, intense action, heartfelt character development, and a dash of “wait was that supernatural or??” This sequel was fantastic, this time focusing on Felicity, Monty’s sister, and her quest to become a physician despite being a woman in the 18th century. Awesome look at femininity, feminism, asexuality, and race. (Also… OT3? OT3.)

Day Eighteen: Favourite Queer Book By A Favourite Author

Monstrous Regiment by Terry Pratchett

One of those “ehh is this technically queer? Not really but close enough, it is in my heart” books. It was one of the books I read as a teenager when I was still beginning to seek out and try to explore queer lit in so much as I could.

Terry Pratchett is, hands down, my favourite author, and though he doesn’t tend to write explicitly queer literature, his exploration of gender through allegory is top fucking tier. Everything to do with the dwarves in his series is fascinating, and a really great challenge/critique/exploration of gender, and this is the book that takes it to the next level (and brings in at least implicitly queer characters). It’s about Polly Perks, who lives in a small, war torn nation, choosing to join the army in order to find out what happened to her brother. However, as tradition dictates, she can’t join as a girl… so she disguises herself as Ozzer, a young man. There’s a lot of twists and turns, and as always Pratchett delivers fantastic humour and just absolutely delicious satire.

Day Nineteen: Queer Book That Changed Your Life

And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson

This was the book that made me realize that I, as a queer teacher, could have queer kid lit in my future classroom. Maybe a comparatively small revelation, but a really important one to me. It made me realize that this didn’t need to be something I kept a secret in my professional life and which could really positively influence children, especially queer children. It was the first queer children’s book I ever bought.

Day Twenty: Favourite Queer Book Series

Candy Color Paradox by Isaku Natsume

Alright… I’ll admit it, this isn’t actually my favourite series, but I’ve used my favourites in other spots. And this is a good one! Definitely more of an actual “yaoi” than the other manga I’ve included (here there be sex) but it has a very different vibe that what I’m used to from that type of manga. The main pair are actually both capable, mature adults, with careers they actively care about, and who get together in the first volume! 

The rest of the series is less about them angst-ily toeing around their relationship, and much more about them learning to grow as a couple and balance their work and relationship and society. It’s funny and sweet, and I really enjoy these two losers. It’s a very low-stakes enemy-to-friends-to-lovers story, in which Onoe (a reporter) and Kaburagi (a photographer) are paired up on a news story they’re supposed to dig into together. What starts as a bickering rivalry gradually becomes respect, friendship, and love~ Onoe is a gremlin of a protag, so he’s a treat to follow.

Day Twenty-One: Queer Book That You Recommend A Lot

Mask of Shadows by Linsey Miller

To repeat myself: Linsey Miller is awesome! This is my favourite book of hers, the first of a duology. It’s kind of like an intense, edgy Tamora Pierce novel with murder. In this world, the Queen has a team of assassins known as the Left Hand. They’re an elite group that keeps the Queen safe and does the dirty work that needs to be done to protect the kingdom and keep the encroaching nations at bay. When the assassin Opal is killed, a contest is announced to find the new Opal. People from all over come to complete for the honour of being one of the Queen’s royal assassins, including gender-fluid thief Sallot Leon. Sal has some deep motivations to become Opal that go beyond a loyalty to their kingdom, but they’re going to have to survive their competitors if they even wants a chance at it… (Sal generally goes by either she or he in the books, but I’m using they in this instance since it’s in a more general sense.)

Day Twenty-Two: Queer Book That Made You Take Action

The Deep by Rivers Solomon

Uhh, I don’t really have any books that made me take action per se, but this one sure gave me a lot to think about. It’s about deep sea mermaids who originated from the pregnant slave women tossed into the ocean to drown during passage to North America. From those dying women, this race was born and were taken in by whales, raised and protected until they could descend into the deep ocean waters, to form their own safe society. Their collective past is so painful though that as a species they’ve developed a very short term memory. But a people can’t live without any ties to their roots and so one of them, the Historian, holds all the memories for their entire species and shares it with everyone once a year so that the community can be connected to their ancestors before once again returning the memories to the Historian for safe keeping. Yetu, the current Historian, is so overwhelmed by these memories, that she can no longer take it – she flees her people, her responsibilities, and her pain and escapes to the surface instead...

Day Twenty-Three: Queer Book By An Author Who I Killed Is Dead

Cybersix by Carlos Trillo

I cannot emphasize enough, this is not actually a queer comic, it is in fact a very homophobic, transphobic and sexist comic written by a horrible person.

That being said, he’s dead and I own it now the TV series was essentially about a genderqueer superhero and a very confused bi biology professor who has a crush on both personas. I had a passionate crush on both personas as a child, and I will cherrypick this comic until I die in order to enjoy the only kickass genderqueer/genderfluid noir antihero I’ve come across. I am valid and I am not open to debate or discussion. Do not read this comic it’s horrible (but consider watching the show).

Day Twenty-Four: Queer Book You Wish You’d Read When Younger

The Prince and the Dressmaker by Jen Wang

This is such an incredibly soft story with the nicest art. There’s so much understanding and compassion in it and its exploration of gender and self-confidence and being true to yourself would have been very reassuring to me as a child, especially by late elementary/middle school. 

Day Twenty-Five: Queer Book In A Historical Setting

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

A retelling of Achilles’ and Patroclus’ relationship from childhood to the Trojan war. So yeah, you can imagine that this was also a candidate for Day 14 :’) I haven’t read this one in years but god it was lovely and emotionally destroyed me as a person.

Day Twenty-Six: Queer Superhero Book or Comic

Overwatch: Reflections by Michael Chu and Miki Montillo

I don’t really read superhero stories very often (the comics have always driven me a little bonkers, trying to find a way to enter the totally unapproachable Marvel/DC canons, and the MCU burnt me out years ago for every other sort of superhero story) so this is the closest I can get. Tracer’s a superhero yeah? Anyway, I, like every other queer person in the Overwatch fandom, lost my fucking mind when this dropped for Christmas a few years back and officially declared Lena Oxton not only the face of the entire franchise but also a lesbian. It’s an adorable little comic and Tracer’s girlfriend is a sweetheart.

Day Twenty-Seven: Favourite Queer Children’s Picture Book

Prince & Knight by Daniel Haack

There’s a number of sweet queer children’s books that are popping up these days, but this is my favourite just because it’s less about “explaining the gays to children” (though those books also have their place) and more of a cute little fantasy adventure in which the actual protagonist is gay. It’s about a prince who sets out to find himself a bride who can help rule by his side, but it quickly becomes clear that he isn’t interested in any of the girls. Instead, when a fire breathing dragon threatens his kingdom, he meets a brave knight who fights along side him. It’s very supportive and the art is lovely.

Day Twenty-Eight: Queer Book That Made You Feel Uncomfortable

Let’s Talk About Love by Claire Kann

This is a book with an asexual protagonist that I was originally really excited for. I know there are a lot of people out there who really enjoy this book and connected with it, but it didn’t do it for me. Maybe because my expectations were too high, but the protagonist’s experience with asexuality was vastly different than my own and the narrative voice ended up rubbing me wrong (and let’s be honest, slice-of-life romance is NOT my usual genre at all). So it’s not “made me uncomfortable because it’s Bad And Wrong” more just… totally vibed wrong with me. Maybe the perfect book for other people but definitely not for me, I had to return this one unfinished because it’s portrayal of asexuality just made me so deeply uncomfortable.

Day Twenty-Nine: Queer Book That Made You Want To Fall In Love

The Gentleman’s Guide To Vice And Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

This book had to make it on here somewhere, and honestly it could have gone in a lot of different spots, but I chose to put it here because the relationship between Monty and Percy is so incredibly sweet and authentic it really does make you want something like that. TGGTVAV (for anyone who has somehow not heard of it) takes place in the 18th century, and is about Monty, his best friend (and crush) Percy, and his sister Felicity going on a final “hurrah” tour of Europe before Monty's father finally tries to pin him down in England and force every part of Monty that’s deemed “unacceptable” out of him. So Monty intends to live this summer up… until everything goes off the rail and the three of them are suddenly fleeing across the continent with assassins at their heels and a strange, stolen artifact in their possession.

Monty has a lot of growing to do in this novel, and that’s one of my favourite things about it. For his and Percy’s relationship to ever have a chance, Monty needs to learn and change and actually communicate with other people, and it makes the relationship feel strong. Not a fluffy, surface level romance that often happens in YA but something built from the ground up by two friends who really want to make it work. Ahh, it’s lovely. One of my favourite novels.

Day Thirty: Queer Book With Your Favourite Ending

My Brother’s Husband by Gengoroh Tagame

A two-book manga series that was completely stunning. It deals with queer relationships and homophobia in a very stark, real-world manner that you don’t often get in manga, while still being incredibly loving and sympathetic. The book is about Yaichi, a single father whose estranged brother (Ryoji) recently died. One day, a Canadian named Mike arrives, introducing himself as Ryoji’s widower. Mike had come hoping to visit his late husband’s homeland to try to get some closure, and Yaichi ends up inviting Mike to stay. The whole story looks Japan’s societal biases, through Mike’s experiences, Yaichi’s thoughts, feelings and prejudices, and those of his daughter who adores Mike. 

Seriously, this is one of the kindest, most earnest looks I’ve ever seen to internal prejudices that critiques them without demonizing the person who feels them. Instead it lovingly embraces grief, growth, and love. This series made me cry multiple times, was good enough that even my straight brother practically ordered me to go out and buy the second book when he finished the first, and the ending was just *chef’s kiss*

Honourable Mentions

A few books I really wanted to fit on my list somehow but couldn’t quite manage it, so here: All Out an anthology of historical fiction short stories about queer teens. The Tea Dragon Society series and Princess Princess Ever After, graphic novels by the amazingly talented Katie O’Neill. Heartstopper a webcomic turn graphic novel by Alice Oseman about a pair of rugby players. The Different Dragon a cute picture book in which the boy has two moms and which is about accepting different ways of being. And Lady Knight a part of Tamora Pierce’s Protector of the Small series because because Kel is word-of-god aro(and/or ace) and I’ve adored that series and Kel since I was about thirteen so by god I’ll take it.

- 

Now for those that wanted to do their own challenge, I found it on @gailcarriger’s blog.

[glitterytidalwavedragon]

Putting it Out There (A Biracial Child)

I’ve always wanted to address this, I just never knew where or how to. But, as I write, I see the influences come into play more and more (More so when I am writing my B.B fanfic and the Tourist), so I thought, now is a good time as any and this is the only account and platform I feel safe (maybe because I don’t have 200+ friends or followers here who know me outside of social media). I also feel as if this prospective of life isn’t given much attention or heard. 

I, as some may know cause I had commented as such, am a biracial child. My father is a Caribbean Hispanic male and my mother of German and Italian descent. 

This does not mean I have the best of both worlds. In fact, most of the times I feel alienated. 

Born in the early 90′s, the song “Livin’ La Vida Loca” by Ricky Martin was every where. My mother would tell me that song was about me, now I was 5-6ish. I thought she referred to me liking cats, and trying to go out to perform a crap version of ‘Singing in the Rain’ along with the love for magic. 

No, it wasn’t so innocent. It was straight up because of my skin tone. I looked like the girl the song was describing. I had no idea. Nor did I realize a silent war was raging in my family. 

Growing up was...hard to say the least. It is even harder when you have racism on both sides pointing fingers at each other. On my mother’s side, my aunt and uncle wouldn’t allow me to visit unless it was a holiday to which there was pressure from the family. Out of spite, they would invite my much older siblings father over to cause a fight (The man did not celebrate christmas). Meanwhile my other aunt would tell me over and over again I was Italian. In the end, during these events I would end up alone and not know why. 

Now lets turn to the other side of the family, my father’s. My first words had been Spanish. Yet, I lived with English speaking relatives... guess who stopped speaking Spanish for a long while. When visiting my family on his side, none of of my relatives would address me, only if they had to because my father was not around. These people knew how to speak English, very well even though they had moved from their native island. They just refused to speak to me. This sucked cause where it was 3 people on my mother’s side, it was 16 aunt’s and uncles on my fathers not counting the dozens of cousins I had. So, as the other family events, I ended up alone not knowing why. 

The answer was rather simple but much to complicated for my child self. Both sides of my family was and still is completely racist. My white mother was near exiled for being with a man many would consider black (he considers himself Spanish and oddly doesn’t get the fascination on why his skin matters or makes me worry about him when he is stopped by cops...). I was the ‘mixed’ baby, a simple of her family’s shame. 

My father’s side could not care what color my mother was, only that she was not Spanish. For those who don’t know, Spanish can be an array of color, its cool. But, she was no Spanish, did not speak Spanish and therefore my father was exiled by everyone but his own mother for many years (which is why we ended up in family events, my mama wanted to see her youngest grandchild by her baby boy). This meant being put at the back table, being openly mocked, and never told of big family events like babies or weddings. 

This only lead to more fighting at home and in the end even my own siblings, alienated me. It was a pretty lonely experience. 

This carried on to school and friendships. Elementary was not fun, but I felt the effects more in Jr. and High school. In elementary I was grouped with the other Spanish kids, because starting in late summer I had my Spanish tan on and therefore, I was not white to other white kids. But I did not speak Spanish. At one point I spoke gibberish to just to be able to hang with the Spanish kids at recess. It worked and I still don’t know how. 

In Jr. ahhhh... at one point my family was making good money, which originally, it once took the income of five adults to keep us afloat, now it just took 2. My father and my grandpa (who I will talk about later). We moved to a ‘nicer’ neighborhood. In the early 2000′s that mean, a white neighborhood. Boy, did I stick out. 

Now you might think “But you grew up in NYC, said you were from Brooklyn” well, here is a fun fact. Nothing is more segregated than NYC schools. The north did not do busing like the south did, so white schools stayed mostly white while schools in low income areas stayed mostly black or other minority races. I was a very tan child going into a white neighbor hood to a white school. Lets top it off that I played video games and Yu-Gi-Oh, HA! 

I received hell. I had legit parents sneer at me, and girls asking me if I had sex because I was Spanish. A 12 year old, got hit on by 15 year olds because they thought my race made me easy. I was 12, all I wanted was to collect cards and play Pokemon on my stupid advance, I had no time for boys unless they were anime. But... someone (more than likely their parents) had set these ideas in their head on how Spanish people, more so girls, acted. 

Then I realized, I really liked all things Gothic. A Spanish Goth.... it pains me to think about it. Everything from poser, to faker, and ‘trying to act white’ was laid on me. I could not wait for Jr. High to end. And when it did, a whole 180 happen. 

I was no longer Spanish. I did not know why, just everyone referred to me as ‘the ONLY white girl’ in the school and that is not a joke. My school, was dubbed the worse in all of Brooklyn and shut down, which I believe it was dubbed that because of the 1% white population... I was the 1 after my second year when the other white kid (who was a boy people asked was my boyfriend) graduated. Now, in high school it wasn’t the kids who gave me hell. It was the teachers. 

In fact, high school led me to meet others who were also feeling alienated. One of which I am very close to, a black man who is Jewish (adopted by a white couple) and gay. He did not where he belonged either. In the mid-00′s to be a black gay man living near the ghetto was dangerous. I can’t count how many times he had to hide who he was so he wouldn’t get shot. Nor could I count how many times my other friend coped with being a biracial black man who loved anime and being goth so much he was bullied for it when we weren’t together (who I ended up dating throughout high school). 

Suddenly being labelled white get me an acceptance I was not expecting. I ended up being popular against my best efforts and people who I did not know knew me. At 15 I did not get what had changed, because no one had told me yet. No, I figured it out at 16, when I was placed in senior English because of my grades. My English teacher told me, I was white, in the worse why I could ever imagine. 

My English teacher, a beautiful black woman who celebrated her African roots, gave an assignment one day. I was one out of five in a class of thirty who did it, because I did it in her class the day before. I played sports, so did half the other kids, I did not have time after school. This did not sit well with her, she was mad, which was an understatement. So, she turned to the class and said

“This is why our people end up in Jail or having babies to early. Because like black people don’t take education seriously.” Then called be out by name and continued “is why she will end up being successful, because white people know the importance of an education.” 

First off, she was very racist towards EVERYONE, second I at 16, who was always called Spanish in school was now labelled white in front of everyone by an adult. I was both confused and terrified as my boyfriend who knew my family cared JACK SHIT about education looked ready to kill her. Luckily, he just walked out of class and waited for me as I was too studded to move. 

I later asked him if he thought I was white, he admitted he did until he saw my father and called me biracial. For the first time in 16 years, I had been called biracial. Went home, did not tell anyone what happened, asked my mother if I was biracial and she said yes. To shorten this up, this was what life felt like, 

At home, I had no race. Neither side welcomed me. 

In school, I was told I was Spanish and had to fake my way in the Spanish group.

Jr High, I am now trying to distance myself from everyone as being Spanish makes me a target. 

High School, I thought being Spanish would be a good thing. Now everyone is telling me I am white. 

I had not idea who or what I was. 

All I ever wanted was to be me. I wanted to understand why my family never got close to me, and I wanted friends who were friends because I was me. 

It was like I was being ripped to pieces. I could be what others wanted or be no one at all. I had no idea what to do. If people at the new school found out I was Spanish, would I become a target again? I was allowed to freely play games, watch anime, and be my gothic self if I were white. But that also meant I could not hang out with my friends who lived in the Ghetto, shouldn’t like rap, R&B, and reggaetón or use the slang I grew up always using. 

To be a Spanish person trying to be white

or 

A white person trying to be black/another minority of color. 

I had watched as the former got my friend (boyfriend at the time) kicked out of classrooms as he was compared to those involved in columbine shooting from teachers since he was different. Also the hell he received from other boys for cosplaying and playing anime based card games. At one point it was so rough he thought about dropping out and I begged him to stay along with his mother. I was so afraid of going through that again.

So I kept my mouth shut. 

I took on the military standard of ‘Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell”. My father never came to the school because he worked so much so no one knew. Everyday, I just took what my English teacher said to be without any force back. When Obama was voted in, she told me I had no right to celebrate, that my people had JFK and that Obama was for all the minorities to celebrate. I fell into a dark hole of hating myself. My home life was awful and now school I had to pretend to be something I wasn’t comfortable with. I started ditching classes, got into more fights than I would care to admit, did some really shady stuff and began hurting myself. 

The only joy I got was when I busted my ass grades wise and got out of school six months early. I did not have to go to school anymore and I could lock myself away to be no one but myself. It was lonely but I found company in books and my art. Through art I was allowed to be me and no one could take that away. 

When I returned for Graduation I June, did I get the final laugh on that English bitch. My mother and father showed up, she asked if my father was a cab driver helping my mother as she had gone blind. I told her, rather happily, that was my father. She went from joy to sheer disgusts faster than you can blink. For years she kept talking about who ‘mix babies’ never got any where as their fathers were never around. Yet, despite me hardly showing up, I gradated top of my class, never had a baby nor was I ‘loose’ (In fact I feared sex as a teenager), and my mixed couple parents as she lovingly called it, were together. 

She walked away from me and never said a word since. 

But now school was over, college was starting. I still hadn’t figured out who I was. Was I white/Italian or Spanish. In college I learnt no one was going to tell me who I was anymore, nor did they care. At home, it was still a battle of the races. Finally, one of my cousins spoke up and declared I wasn’t Spanish as I knew nothing of the language. At home, my aunt and uncle decided I was Spanish and called me a ‘Spick’ as a joke. I did not take it as one and therefore I was called ‘uptight’. 

My siblings also informed me, if I wanted free college to put down Spanish on everything unless it was the census. Then I should be white. Sometimes I still run into people who think I am one over the other. I had people come up to be speaking Spanish to be highly offended when I tell them I don’t speak the Language well. (I tried learning but it is hard when motivation is not there). 

In recent years, I had someone at work tell me how they met a Spanish person, shockingly where my father works, and then described in detail my father and then tell me they thought he was illegal since he looked the type. All because they thought I was white... proud to say that person got fired for being racist.I did also inform them that was my father to their response was “you’re one of them”. 

It never ends. 

No, the reason why I haven’t been driven insane is because of my late grandpa. My grandpa was a man I adopted to be my grandfather. My biological grandfathers on both sides died long before I was born and the man I adopted was close to the family and acted like a father to my parents. He was a good man and the reason I had a childhood. 

He once went through the same, Italian/Jewish, you wouldn’t think there would be a problem but when he was growing up that equaled Catholic/Jewish, to which he too was either pinned in the middle or rejected by both sides, this is the 1930′s-1940s. He gave me the best piece of advance ever. 

To be myself. 

That if I were myself, then it did not matter. The moment I stopped being who I am, that passing or faking would never tell me who my real friends were. That if he, could love me for who I was, a weird girl who liked boy things and drawing strange looking characters, then anyone else could. Being a stranger to myself would never bring happiness. So, after years of not listening to that, I finally decided to listen to my Grandpa. 

I know who I am, I know the history of my families. They might not like that I am not what they want me to be, but they don’t have to live with me. I have to live with who I am. My friends are my friends because they know who I am, not who they think I should be. 

So for all my biracial brothers, sisters and them’s, be yourself. Don’t try to force yourself into a mold, it isn’t worth it. None of it is worth it. 

Look yourself in the mirror and say your name. Say it loud and let everyone know they can not define who you are, and so what if they say you don’t belong, guess what? You do if you want. You belong because YOU say so, because that blood runs in your veins as well as theirs. So you get to make that choice! 

Make that choice of being you! Define yourself to YOUR standards. 

Don’t let anyone take that away. I know I won’t.

So here I see myself! A strange fox who changes coats with the seasons, that loves anime and video games, who plays Yu-Gi-Oh and listens to opera and Metal while can twerk and get low to Daddy Yankee! Who eats sushi and makes a mean chicken cutlet but can also make the best empanda with beans and rice with the rest of them!

And no one can take that from me.

[simple-heroics]

Snowy Nights in Tokyo

Part 1 of the “Let Me Take Care of You” mini-series Fuyumi Todoroki X fem!Reader (alternating between she/her and they/them pronouns) Word count: 11,919 someone stop me

Not to get too gay on main but @floof-reppu​ opened my eyes with their Fuyumi fic. Which inspired some assertive!Fuyumi. Everyone say thank you to her for helping me the NSFW scene. It’s my first one and tbh I still have a lot to learn in writing smut but here it is.

Me being me, I’ve also gone overboard and now have to make a mini-series for Fuyumi. I don’t even care that I won’t get a lot of notes for this. It just...feels like I need to write it, you know?

Anyway, this is dedicated to all the eldest daughters in the world who have had to take care of everybody but themselves. 

Content warning: Hyper vigilance, alcohol, references to drunk adults, references to high stress work environments, mild Quirk play (not previously negotiated), brief orgasm denial, possible naked book clubs, and VERY consensual sex between two sober adults. Emotional, intense topics brought up before, during, and after sex. It gets heavy, y’all. And a little awkward because surprise, surprise. Sex with a virtual stranger isn’t always all that sexy.

“To y/l/n - for kicking ass and finally taking a night off!” Your friend toasts you. Similar cheers echo her as shot glasses clink together.

Rolling your eyes, you throw your head back and take your shot. You are well-acquainted with burns but the shochu is an unfamiliar one in the back of your throat, making you cough. Your old schoolmates laugh, jokingly asking you when you last actually drank. A second later, you remember to laugh with them. The sound scratches itself out of your throat, hoarse from the recent burn of liquor. 

It feels...off.

Even if you weren’t on shift, even if you were having fun with friends and tossing back a couple of well-deserved drinks, you couldn’t help being hyper aware of everyone in the room: The group of salary men, somber when they first arrived, now laughing hysterically. Some girls’ night out, tipsy women giggling over cocktails. Random tourists in the back going nuts over sake bombs. You watch it all on the mirrored wall behind your friends. 

Eventually, your eyes wander to your unsmiling reflection next to your friends and realize… You look older than them. Your friends glow with this vibrancy, this carelessness, that made them feel younger to you. You listen to them talk - about classes, about apartment hunting in Tokyo and midnight convenience store runs, about dating. A whole different life than the one you live now. You’re the same age as them, have known some since high school, but you somehow feel ten years older. A part of you always feared your friend group growing apart as you all got older. But you never expected you would be the one to age so quickly ahead of them. There is too much weighing on your mind, too much you’d seen. 

You close your eyes and the images are vivid on the back of your eyelids. The memories sweep over you, drowning out the surrounding laughter and clinking drinks. Phantosmia clogs your senses like smoke. The taste of ash soots the back of your tongue.

“Seriously, though. It’s been forever!” one of them exclaims.

You jerk back to the present, blinking. 

“Does your new boss own you or something?”

You stiffen.

Another friend nudges her, shooting her a reproachful look. 

“I actually don’t see him that often,” you say, tone sharp. You don’t want to kill the mood, not when it’s been so long since you’d seen any of them, so you try to lighten it. “He’s busier than I am.”

There are few people you respect as much as your boss. It’s a privilege to work under someone with so much experience and skill. You worked your ass off for years before you became qualified to even apply, and that was only the beginning. If you couldn’t keep up with the team, you weren’t needed. Too many lives at stake. The only person held to higher standards were the ones your boss set for himself.

“Right, right,” says the friend who made the sarcastic joke. “And we’re grateful to him, really. But...”

“But we really do miss seeing you, y/l/n,” another chimes in, sincere. 

Your best friend intervenes. “Besides, he’s not all bad if he let you and that cute coworker of yours off for the night. Speaking of…”

Knowing what they’re getting at, you check your phone. “She says she got caught up in...something.”

“Really? Even the salary men over there are taking a break.”

Your table looks over to see the middle-aged men, completely sloshed, start their own improv karaoke. Your friends immediately crack up and imitate the off-key singing.

While you laugh with them, a part of you itches. You think of your coworker and the ongoing case.  It feels strange, almost wrong, to be joking with your old schoolmates and making fun of drunk salary men while they were risking their lives.

Maybe you are becoming something of a workaholic, you privately admit. But it’s good work, important work. You help so many people everyday. You love your job. 

But what’s the point of if you don’t have someone of your own to protect? a voice whispers, the same quiet voice that speaks up when you leave the bunks for your own lonely apartment. 

Now’s a good time for another drink.

Ignoring the teasing requests for another round from your friends (“C’mon, y/n, we know you’re getting paid more~!”), you slide through the small crowds until you find an open space at the bar. The bartender’s swamped with orders piling in from a sprawl of college boys. Some sports team, you think as you subconsciously size them up, too rowdy to be an academic club. Harmless but stupid.

Still, you watch them from the corner of your eye. 

“Could I get the matcha highball, please?” 

Her voice should have been too soft to hear in the loud bar but somehow it rings out clear as a bell. Everything slows down. Your eyes widen, snapping to look at her.

At about average height, she stands out among the bar patrons in her modest white blazer and high-waisted jeans. Her soft-looking hair is white like the snow outside, vermillion streaks ribboned throughout the light strands. She shifts from foot to foot, full hips swaying with the motion.

You stare.

“Oops~”

You snatch the college boy’s wrist before he could “spill” his drink after he purposely bumbled over. The boy (really, he could only be a year or two younger than you) jolts, gawking at you.

With a stony expression, you look him dead in the eye. “Careful.”

“Oh!” The woman startles at the sudden commotion. She turns and you still.

Her face is cuter than you’d imagined it: a pert nose, soft jawline, and pretty pink lips that look like they’re made for things like smiling and laughter and other nice, soft things. Large, bright eyes like a winter sky framed by glossy eyelashes blink at you behind glasses. 

The entire world around you just...freezes. The only conscious thought you can think is her, her, her, her. The inner mantra matches the tempo of your heartbeat.

“Uuh...hey?” the college boy speaks up. You realize that you haven’t let go of his wrist - oblivious to his attempts at pulling away from her vice grip. And that you’ve forgotten to breathe.

Feeling your face turn warmer than usual, you swiftly look away from her. It’s pure autopilot that allows you to say, “Be a little more careful. We don’t want any ‘accidents’.”

Driving your point home, you squeeze just a little - a silent show of your strength - before abruptly letting go. He stumbles back slightly, nearly bumping into another person, and stutters, “Y-yeah, whatever. Sorry.” 

Partially to avoid contact with pretty turquoise eyes and also to drive the intimidation home, you stare after him stoically until he disappears. 

“Thank you.” 

You take an extra second to breathe, willing the concerning heat in your face - and the rest of your body - to lower before you face her. 

Then she smiles at you.

The heat returns tenfold. Damn.

Light-headed, you quickly realize she isn’t merely cute. This stranger was so stunning that she knocked the air out of your lungs with just a look.

“No problem,” you croak.

The bartender saves your life. “Matcha highball!” 

You have exactly 5 seconds to breathe and get your shit together while she gets her drink. You flounder for something, anything, to say. You could bench press the bar counter itself but you can’t talk to a random (beautiful, alluring, breath-taking) woman at said bar counter. But would that be weird? Would that make you no better than the creep deliberately spilling drinks on people? 

Drink in hand, she turns back around and smiles again. It’s just as debilitating the second time around. Your knees weaken. “Thanks again.”

“You come here often?” you blurt out. And promptly wanted to blast yourself. 

You expect her to lift a dainty eyebrow and walk away, pretending your existence never happened, but instead she honestly answers your terrible cliche. “No, not really. I’m...usually at home around this time. But some work friends told me I couldn’t skip out on happy hour again.” 

Given her the simple sincerity of her answer and the way she completely missed the near “spill”, you deduce that she doesn’t come to bars often or at least doesn’t have much experience with the nightlife. You almost want to ask what a (beautiful, damn near ethereal) girl like her is doing in a place like this but thankfully quash the impulse.

“Me, too,” you say quickly, straight-faced. “Except they’re not so much work friends. More like actual friends. Not that friends from work can’t be actual friends but they’re my friends outside of work. Except I haven’t seen them in a while. Because I work. A lot. Not that I’m a workaholic or anything. It’s just an intense job. But I’m not intense. Well, kinda. Some people say I can be. Only because it’s important - the job, not me. Um. Not in like a self-deprecating way but like in a self-important way - which I’m not. Or I try not to be. I just care about people which is kinda a requirement for my job. Mostly. Or at least it should be. Some people, you know? And I’ll just stop talking now.”

It’s a wonder steam doesn’t hiss out of your ears with how hot your still stoic face is. You almost wish a villain would tear through the bar and knock you against the wall right. Now. Damn it, y/n.

Yet miracle of miracles, her polite smile slowly widens into an amused one - and one of those genuinely nice ones, without so much as a trace of mockery. “It’s like that with my job, too.”

How is she still here after that? And was she really...making conversation? 

You swallow and try not to seem overeager when you ask, “What do you do?”

Her face lights up. “I’m a teacher.” 

You can’t help the rare, almost timid smile that wobbles onto your lips. A teacher. Of course the angelic-looking woman is also a sweetheart with a sweet job. God, that sounds so precious. “Yeah? What grade?”

“Third.” Thinking about her class, her smile broadens. Your first impression was dead on: her face was made for smiles. 

“Third grade…” you repeat. Not just a teacher, an elementary school teacher. No wonder she seems so - wholesome? Patient? Kind? You damn near melt at the mental image of her working with little kids. 

She tilts her head, bangs moving with the cute motion. You try not to get distracted. “What about you?”

“I - “ You hesitate. It always feels weird when you tell people your vocation, almost like you were bragging. Besides that, another part of you - the increasingly paranoid, always on guard part - is cautious.  “I’m a civil servant. Public safety.”

She makes a small noise of interest. “That does sound intense.”

“It has its days. But your job is probably a lot harder.”

Something in her eyes flashes. “You think so?”

“Mm.” You nod. “Teachers have to take on a lot, right? You’re not just teaching kids - as if that’s not a big enough responsibility, teaching the next generation. You’re also their counselors, social workers, referees, lawyers, motivational coaches. Sometimes even surrogate parents.” 

Her expression softens into something more thoughtful. “Yeah… Yeah, sometimes.”

Whereas before you were hyper aware of everything, now your entire attention is narrowed in on her. It’s the first time in a long time you weren’t subconsciously counting every head in the room or checking for emergency exits. And she’s quiet, considering you. The two of you spend an unusually long time analyzing each other.

She licks her lips. You try to keep eye contact but can’t help yourself, gaze flickering at the deft movement.

“My name’s Todoroki. Todoroki Fuyumi.” 

You briefly linger on her familiar but common family name before zeroing in on her given name, Fuyumi. Fuyumi. As in winter beauty. You inwardly applaud whoever chose her name; they had the right idea.

You bow politely. “Nice to meet you, Todoroki-sensei.” 

She laughs a little, cheeks flushing pretty and pink. Her returning bow is shorter, a little awkward with a drink in her hand. “Please, you don’t have to call me sensei. I’m off the clock.”

“What should I call you then?”

“How about…” She seems to internally debate this. “Fuyumi? We’re about the same age and besides, hardly anybody calls me Todoroki outside of work.”

“Fuyumi-san…” Your lips naturally curl upward while saying her name.

Her eyes flicker away and back, catching your own. “And yours…?��

“Y/l/n y/n. But y/n is fine,” you say, an almost lie. No one but your closest and dearest call you by your given name. But you can make an exception for this stranger at the bar, for Fuyumi. A small, greedy part of you simply wants to hear your given name in her voice, see how those pretty lips move around it. And besides...

Something tells you it won’t be long before you can count her in the small, tight-knit circle anyway.

“Nice to meet you as well. Please take care of me.”

“Of course.” You pause, realizing what you just said. “Uh…

Her rosy cheeks brighten but she’s still smiling, still looking at you with those bright eyes. “Can I get you a drink, y/n-san?”

Yeah, your name definitely sounds good - really good - coming from her. Almost as good as her own name feels on your tongue.

“I’d love that, Fuyumi-san.”

Another kneecap-shattering smile is sent your way.

Cool it down, y/n. Cool it. Down. You tug on your collar to alleviate the growing heat under it.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

Despite their earlier hassling over you not spending enough with them, your friends are more than okay with you (temporarily, you insisted, lying to them and yourself) ditching them to talk to someone new. They seem almost more excited than you are -- “almost” being the operative word. You feel like you’d been hit by someone’s electric Quirk, and the feeling persists the longer you talk to Fuyumi.

You find a little two-seat table near one of the windows of the bar. It offers you both an open view of Tokyo, bright and alive in the dark winter night, where flurries of snow roll through the neon-lit streets. A nice sight, you’re sure, but you’re all but ignorant to it in front of Fuyumi who sits across from you. White blazer draped over the back of her chair, she wears a form-fitting black turtleneck. A simple gold band glints on her wrist as she fiddles with her glass, tracing the rim with an elegant finger. You notice that despite having gotten her drink sooner, the ice cubes remain perfectly intact while your own drink is now a watered down version of your original order.

Not that either of you are really drinking, consumed in conversation - in learning each other. 

You learn that Fuyumi is 22 years old. Less than a year ago, she completed her bachelor’s in elementary education at Showa Women’s University. This is her first year teaching, and she loves it. She adores her class. You listen attentively as she talks with her hands and a brilliant smile, describing one shy student’s increasing confidence and another’s improved reading score. You learn that your earlier deduction was correct: she isn’t much of a nightlife person, preferring smaller get-togethers and home-cooked meals. You learn that she loves the weather outside, attention sometimes drifting to the falling snow outside. You learn that she loves to read but is weak to the same soap operas you are. You learn that she’s kind and smart and passionate.

And that if you look directly at her for too long, you forget how to breathe. 

Your conversation delves deeper. You both talk about your work, how a passion for helping people brought you to your chosen professions and how it's that very passion that sustains you through the hard parts. You talk about the constant paperwork, tracking every incident and expense and flickering concern, in order to protect the people you look after and yourselves. Fuyumi quietly expresses her frustrations with the Ministry of Education, the intense focus on academics and Quirk development, and how she can already see the pressure on her young (too young) students. Expression grave, you tell her about the moral concerns in your job, how people - people who have it hard, people who are just having a bad day - are practically dehumanized for their mistakes and how your colleagues treat even milder, non-violent cases like they’re scum of the earth. 

You and Fuyumi both lament over the bureaucracies that get in the way of actually doing your jobs. You talk about what it’s like to be in that weird “in-between” age, feeling too old around people your own age who don’t have the responsibilities which your jobs demand yet so young - naive - next to most of your colleagues. Compassion fatigue is common in both your fields, you find. It’s just as fulfilling as it is utterly exhausting, taking care of people. You talk about how tiring it is to work for the public, how underappreciated you sometimes feel, how helpless some cases are. 

“And then after all that, coming home at the end of the day can just be so…” Fuyumi cuts herself off, covering her mouth.

“Draining,” you finish, solemn.

She slowly lowers her hand, turquoise eyes wide and serious behind her glasses. “...yeah.”

You tap the edge of your cocktail glass, contemplative. You hesitate before saying, “Sometimes it’s hard seeing people I really care about…after taking care of people all day. I know my loved ones need me, too, and I want to be there for them. But sometimes it’s too much on top of everything else. Somedays...I feel too tired to care and caring’s the whole reason I even got into this job.”

You didn’t realize how true this was until you said it. It’s an ugly truth, hideous as it lingers in the air, but the truth nonetheless. You wonder if this is the real reason you don’t go out with your friends anymore, why you rarely saw your family as of late. 

You also wonder about the intent look Fuyumi wore. Intelligent blue eyes meet yours behind rectangular frames and you can’t bring yourself to look away. You don’t know how long you two stared at each other, only that you’d stopped breathing entirely.

Pop!

“Aaaayyy!” 

You shoot up and whip around, physically blocking Fuyumi - an automatic shield. Your hand goes to your waist and of course - of course you aren’t wearing your tactical belt. You’re off duty.

You start to activate your Quirk, let it hum unseen but ready under your hot skin. Off duty but still - .

But still, it was just the crazy salary men anyway. All drunk off their asses. One of them bought champagne, hence the pop. The man must be in his forties yet there he is, drinking straight from the bottle. The college athletes nearby start to chant and soon the rest of the bar is joining in. Somewhere, you hear your friends (the hooligans) cheering among them.

A gentle hand touches your arm, cool fingertips pressing against your wrist. Her touch sends off an immediate spark at first contact.

Electric Quirk?

Turning around, Fuyumi’s face is gentle but her eyes burn with an unexplained fervency. It kindles something in your stomach, makes you swallow. 

“Let’s go outside for a bit. Get you some fresh air.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

With the din of the bar behind you, you exhale and watch your breath condensate in the cold night air. It’s quieter here. Only a few other bar patrons mill about, one smoking several feet away and others waiting for a rideshare. The warmth from nearly activating your Quirk slowly seeps out enough to bring you back to a safer, more civilian-appropriate temperature but it’s still enough to keep you warm in your simple leather jacket.

You glance at Fuyumi. The falling snowflakes surround her like a vision, bright against the dark of turtleneck but blending in with her hair. “Aren’t you cold?”

She smiles, pushing her glasses up. “I’m fine.”

“Quirk thing?” you guess wryly, curious but also avoiding directly asking about her Quirk. It’s fine as a kid but as people get older, outright asking people about their Quirks is something of a social taboo. It would be more polite to ask what her bank statement said.

“Something like that. What about you? Are you cold or is it a ‘Quirk thing’?” When she speaks, you notice that her breath doesn’t come out in a misty cloud. Trained to automatically identify hints of what a person’s Quirk could be, you pick this out. Ice Quirk then, maybe snow? It suits the winter beauty.

The corner of your mouth twitches. You tuck your hands in your jacket pockets and lean against the building behind you.  “Something like that.”

You both stand in companionable silence. It’s easier to breathe outside with the city lights to distract you, though you sneak occasional glances at the way the blue and red neon lights reflect off Fuyumi’s snowy hair. The red streaks glow burgundy under the lighting.

“About what you said earlier…”

You say nothing now, simply pressing your lips together and staring obstinately at a distant flashing billboard: First a soda commercial, then some car insurance ad. You glance away when you see an ad for Burning Coffee and the familiar face with it.

“I get it.”

Schooling your expression into a neutral one, you look at her from the corner of your eyes. 

Fuyumi tucks a stark white strand behind her ear. You try not to get distracted by the way she bites her lip. “Even before I started this job, I…I have two younger brothers. I love them a lot but it's - I…. I’ve had to take care of them for a long time now.”

You mull over this for a moment. “Because someone had to, huh?”

“Someone has to.”

You nod slowly. “Caring for other people is why humans are here but it’s hard. There are limits.”

“Yeah, there are...” That intense light in her eyes appears again. “But someone has to care, even when it’s hard. Someone has to bring people together.”

What about your parents? You want to ask, want to know who left her alone with such a heavy responsibility when she was so young. Something dark simmers in your stomach at the thought of a small Fuyumi burdened with the care of two little brothers while a child herself. But you bite your tongue. 

Instead: “Who takes care of you?”

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Who takes care of Todoroki Fuyumi?” 

“Who… I - “ Her face is pink from the cold, you vaguely notice. Which is odd, if your hunch about her Quirk is right. “I... My brother does. The older one, Natsuo. He…” 

You realize too late that you’re raising your eyebrows, high and skeptical in your otherwise neutral countenance. 

“People care,” she finishes lamely. At your unimpressed stare, she turns her head away. The gesture is as bashful as it is stubborn.

“...there’s a difference between caring for someone and taking care of them,” you say softly.

Lifting her face, Fuyumi meets your gaze. You step closer without breaking eye contact. Her lips part, and you’re undeniably staring now - more than staring. You’re leaning closer, into her space, and she tilts her head back.

“Te ni shitai hikari ga aru kiiiimiii wa ima yorube mo naku hitori de kiro niiii tatsu~”

You both jerk away.

“Sorry,” Fuyumi mutters, covering her mouth. You catch a pink flush before she turns her head away. 

Clearing your throat, you fumble for your cell. “No, my bad. Uuuh, hold on. Lemme just turn it off.”

Even saying that, you habitually check the caller ID and immediately turn serious. You look at her apologetically. “It’s work.”

Still pink-faced and cute, Fuyumi waves a hand. “It’s fine!”

“One sec…” Praying it’s not an emergency but prepared nonetheless, you answer brusquely, “Talk to me.”

“Woah, there, y/l/n. No need to sound so serious. You’re off the clock, remember?”

“Are you?” you retort.

“Yeah, just got off and on my way. Your friends still there or you guys get bored waiting for me? ‘Cause I also know this one place in Shinjuku with some cute girls who maaay bat for our team if yanno what I - “

You nearly choke on your own spit. “Uuh, no. No, that’s not necessary.”

“Y/l/n, you need to get laid. Like, I’m pretty sure boss man gets more than you and - “

“Hey!” You cover the receiver, as though fearful Fuyumi would hear about your sad (lack of a) sex life. Also you never want to hear anyone talk about your boss like that. It’s worse than if someone were to bring up your father in that way. You shudder at the thought. “I do not want to think about that. Do not put those images in my head!”

Your coworker cackles. “Then get out and get some! Pretty sure with the overtime you pull, you got some cobwebs down there.”

“I will report you to HR,” you warn, too low for Fuyumi to hear.

“See? This is why he hired you. He needed a bigger wet blanket than him in the office to make him look chill in comparison.”

Ha. Your boss. Chill. Even you can privately admit that’s a good one.

“Then he owes me a raise,” you grumble. After some thought, you also add, “...besides, Shinjuku isn’t necessary.”

“Wait. You met somebody?!”

Hyper aware of a pair of pretty blues on you, you choose your words carefully. “We just received word from Team Lambda that things were...unexpectedly successful.”

“SHIT IS SHE WITH YOU NOW! Why are you still talking to me?!”

“Do you still require back up at the agreed location?”

“Pffft. Y/l/n, you dork. Nah, I’m good. I’ll swing by for a drink and say hi to your cute friend but you do who you gotta do.”

You clear your throat. “I’ll do my best.”

“Damn right you will. With how diligent you are, you’re bound to be a good lay.”

“I do have HR’s number saved on my phone,” you deadpan.

“Of course you do, you stick-in-the-mud. Now get off the phone and talk to your girl!”

Even when she abruptly hangs up on you, you can’t help the sudden grin while you silence your cell. Your girl.

That has a nice ring to it.

But you’re getting ahead of yourself.

“Is everything okay?” Fuyumi asks, tipping her head. She looks at you with such concern your heart flutters. “You sounded real serious.”

Your voice comes out half-strangled and high-pitched. “Fine. Ahem. Everything’s fine. My coworker was just checking in. We were supposed to meet up and, uh…”

“Oh.”  Fuyumi lowers her eyes. She adjusts her purse over a dainty shoulder. “My coworkers are probably waiting for me, too. We should…”

No!

“Something came up,” you say quickly.

She pauses mid-step.

“Do you want another drink?”

 “I think I’ve had enough to drink,” she admits.

 “Oh…” You visibly deflate despite your attempts at keeping up a nonchalant demeanor. “I...I understand.”

 “...didn’t you come here with your friends?”

 “I met someone,” you say bluntly. You pin her with a look, one that sears through Fuyumi and says ‘you’. “They’ll understand.”

 That pretty blush returns tenfold, rising in her cheeks and spreading all the way down her neck. You want nothing more than to discover where else it goes. “Oh.”

 You tuck your hands in your pocket to hide how they shake, try to relax your body but even you can feel the intensity in your own gaze. “And your coworkers?”

 “They’ll understand, too…” She fiddles with her purse’s strap, shifts her weight from foot to foot. Again, her hips sway with the motion and you start to wonder if there’s anything Fuyumi could do that wouldn’t attract you. “But I still think I’m ready to leave this bar.”

 “Just this bar?” You peer at her from under your eyelashes.

 If just looking at her wrecks your breathing, the way she bites her bottom lip will be your absolute end. “Just this bar,” she confirms quietly. 

 “Hm.” You step forward, edging closer but just shy of her personal space - maintaining a respectful distance but near enough to feel the energy passing between you two, the intense and immediate chemistry. It’s strange and unfamiliar and gravitational. 

 Fuyumi stands completely still but she’s tighter, tenser, with a white-knuckled grip on her bag and fair skin brightening to new shades of red. There’s a light in her eyes that keeps drawing you in, like a moth to a blue flame. They dart heatedly between your own darkening gaze and your mouth.

 “Do you have plans for the rest of your night, Fuyumi-san?” Maybe at least a dinner, you hope, somewhere warm and cozy and private. Something you think she would like.

 She shakes her head, blushing yet unhesitant. 

 You swear you can feel your own heartbeat in your throat. “Any younger brothers to take care of tonight?”

 After some deliberation, she says, “They’re 19 and 15. I think they’ll survive one night without me.”

 “Yeah?” you ask breathlessly.

 “Yeah,” she says, just as quiet, and she just...looks at you. Really looks at you.

 Then she steps closer and suddenly she’s right in front of you. A cloud of vanilla-and-jasmine fragrance surrounds you. You do nothing, say nothing, simply let her come to you. You watch her with a deliberately calm mien. Fuyumi lifts up a delicate hand and brushes through your hair. A whirl of snowflakes scatters around you.

She sees you shiver and whispers, “You’re going to catch a cold out here.”

Her hand lingers in your hair. The touch is light but it’s like being connected to a live wire. A second more passes. Then her hand flutters back to her side. 

“Then I guess we should find some place warmer.” 

“Y/n-san…” 

“Let me…” Let me call you a rideshare. Let me walk you home. Let me take you home. Please. Just let me stay with you a little longer. You swallow all those other words, better words, and come out with, “Let me take care of you.”

Those impossible blue eyes widen. “What?”

Face much warmer than you’re used to off-duty and braver in ways you’ve never had to be before, you ask her softly, near pleading, “Can I take care of you tonight, Fuyumi-san?”

Fuyumi’s lips part. Then slowly, shyly, they curl into that heartbreakingly beautiful smile. “Okay.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

You nearly trip over a chair on your way over to your friends’ table. 

“Aaww, did you strike out?” your best friend teases you.

You let out a shaky laugh, pushing your hair back. “Actually, I came to say bye real quick.”

This earns you a chorus of jeers and whistles around the table. 

“That’s my teammate!” a familiar voice crows behind you. You catch tendrils of green flames from the corner of your eye before you see her.

“Kamiji!” 

Kamiji moves easily between the tables, as graceful as a cat and grinning like one, too. “What are you still doing here?” she teases while pulling you into a side hug. “Didn’t I tell you to clean out some cobwebs?”

You add a little heat to your embrace - enough that would have made anyone else flinch away but with Kamiji, with anyone in the Flaming Sidekicks, it’s more like a playful punch. “I’m calling HR on Monday.”

“They’ll be the only ones you’ll be calling if you don’t catch up with your girl,” Kamiji retorts, nudging you away with a discreet flicker of flame at the tip of her finger.

Your girl.

“Look at that grin! Just an hour ago, she was moping over her shots,” a friend teases.

“I can count all the times she’s smiled at work on one hand and still have fingers left over,” Kamiji says, joining the min roast session. Her eyes gleam. “Introduce me to her later, yeah?”

“We’ll see,” you say non-committedly.

“Pfff - get outta here. Some people need a drink.”

“I gotcha,” your best friend volunteers. You notice them already making eyes at Kamiji and silently congratulate yourself on introducing them.

“I’ll see you guys later,” you say with a quick wave.

“How much later?” a friend snarks.

“Have fun!” another offers, waggling their eyebrows.

“Be safe,” one teases, a joke coming from a civilian.

“For real,” Kamiji adds. From her, regardless of her playful demeanor, it’s definitely not a joke. “Call me tomorrow morning. Or afternoon. Whenever you wake up.” 

“Sure.” 

It’s a good night, you think as you wander back to the entrance to meet Fuyumi. You have a feeling it’s about to get better.

So caught up in her, you miss your best friend and Kamiji lingering on their way to the bar. Both are curious to see who could possibly catch their overly serious workaholic of a friend’s attention. They exchange sneaky grins, instant co-conspirators, as they shadow you.

“Y/l/n’s usually the first to pick up when we’re being watched on stakeouts,” Kamiji confides in your friend. “Either she’s had too much to drink or this girl is something.”

They snort. “A couple of us literally walked by their table five times and she didn’t so much as glance our way. You literally came by the one time this entire evening where she’s taken her eyes off her.”

Kamiji’s sharp canines glint in her grin. “Oh, really~?”

She peers over at the door to take a look at your mystery girl and...stops. Her grin drops like a stone.

“Oh, shit.”

Your friend quirks a brow. “What?”

“Oh, shit, oh, shit, oh, shit,” Kamii mutters. “Y/L/N! HEY, Y/L/N!” 

The bar’s noise drowns her out.

“Fuck.” Kamiji whips out her cell and dials your number. When she goes straight to voicemail, she tries again. And again. She sends you a barrage of texts.

“What’s wrong?” your friend asks. “Do you know her?”

There’s no humor in Kamiji’s caustic laugh. “Pretty much everybody at the agency knows her - except our newbie apparently.”

“At the agency? Is she a villain?”

“Worse.”

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

On the way to your apartment, you check and double check if this is what Fuyumi wants. She laughs a little as she reassures you. You insist that she texts someone, anyone, and give her your address ahead of time. You even ask her to sing the English alphabet backwards to make sure it’s not alcohol’s decision rather than her own certain and sober one. Between your protectiveness against...well, in this case, yourself and her laughter, you two trade giddy glances and secret smiles throughout the entire drive. 

You’ve never seen anyone who looks so...pretty in the city lights. You’d long lost any awe over Tokyo’s shining lights but find yourself gaining a new appreciation for them. They look good on her, reflecting off her hair and fair skin and glasses. It’s like Fuyumi is made of light and glass and something so bright that comes from within you can’t even fully fathom it.

And holy hell, she agreed to come to your apartment. Is this actually happening?

Your fingers tap a nervous rhythm in the middle seat. Suddenly, a cold hand slips over them - halting them. You jump, glancing over. She smiles and squeezes your hand, reassuring you even with that blush and her own fidgeting. 

You’re the one who's supposed to be taken care of right now, you think.

But now you’re so focused on leveling your breathing you can’t risk looking at her. You do, however, lace your fingers through hers. 

And it just fits. 

When you arrive at your place and slide out of the car, you’re the one to reattach your hands while you jostle for key with your other hand. You’re suddenly entirely too grateful to have a first floor apartment.

Reality socks you in the stomach when you’re inside. With Fuyumi. 

It’s strange...seeing her in your apartment. You can’t remember the last time you had anyone else in your home, hardly in it yourself between patrols and paperwork and stakeouts. But having Fuyumi here? With you? Barely visible in the dim light of your entryway, hair bright like a halo and face barely visible?

It’s like a dream.

But it’s not. Your heart wouldn’t be hammering like this if this were a dream. 

Fuyumi still hasn’t let go of your hand. If anything, the situation seems to dawn on her, too, going by how she clutches it. You both stand together in the dimly lit genkan, quiet, a little awkward. But the small space between you is purely electric.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” Fuyumi admits quietly.

“Me, neither…”

“Work?” she guesses.

“Yeah,” you mutter. “You?”

“School. Then work.”

You force a smile through your nerves. “And taking care of other people?”

Her words are hushed. “Yeah… That, too.”

“Guess we both missed out on the crazy party phase other people our age got,” you say dryly.

That earns you a soft laugh. “I guess so. Never looked all that great anyway.”

You snort. “Yeah, I’m not too upset that I missed out on all my friends’ college hangovers. But when was the last time you got to just...let go? Not care what anyone thinks or says?” 

You yourself could at least count some fond high school memories.

Fuyumi, however… 

She says nothing, bangs covering her eyes. 

Tonight, you decide. Tonight is her night. 

And suddenly, something clicks into place. You’re not nervous anymore.

“In that case...” Hands still connected, you step out of the genkan. “I think it’s about time someone took care of you.”

Her eyebrows furrow in concern. “What about you?”

“Don’t worry about me.”

“But… Aren’t you tired from caring so much?”

I don’t think I could ever get tired of caring for you.

Gently, you bring your intertwined hands to your mouth and smooth light, unhurried kisses over her fingers. Your lips trail along her knuckles until they press against her wrist and linger there over her pulse. You look at her through hooded eyes. Her breath catches. 

Then you drop your hands.

“Trust me,” you say, your voice low in your own ears. “This is as much for me as it is for you. But only if you want it.”

There’s an unspoken question there.

Fuyumi meets your gaze directly, heat rising in her eyes, almost like blue fire in how they scorch you with a single look. You start to rethink your original guess about her Quirk.

“I want it.” 

You. I want you.

Sucking in a long, slow breath, you smile at her. “...then come get it, Fuyumi-san.” 

She stumbles forward, as though in a trance. Shaky hands land on your strong shoulders, seeking stability, and she steps into you. Your chests brush against each other, and you’re submerged in her creamy vanilla and jasmine perfume. That gravitational pull tugs at you but you stop yourself just shy of her lips.

Hers. This is her night, her decision.

Her cool breath fans across your lips. Starlit eyes peer into your darkening ones.

You wait.

“May I?” The words vibrate against your mouth. 

Your heart melts.

“Of course.”

Fuyumi closes that last centimeter of distance and presses her trembling lip to yours. She tilts her head, mindful of her glasses. The kiss is slow and careful, closed mouth, testing the boundaries. Even with your verbal consent, it asks, Is this okay? You follow her lead, tenderly coaxing her lips along your own. Warm and welcoming and reassuring her yes, yes, yes. This is okay. This is perfectly okay. 

I want you, too. 

Her hands tighten on your shoulders. Yours slide into her feather-soft hair. You tug out the ponytail holder and delve your fingers in the tresses. You pull away, separating you with a soft pop, and watch the silky strands float to her shoulders.

Breathing hard, Fuyumi is still clutching your shoulders. Her face is flushed, roses blooming in her cheeks, and her pupils are blown wide. 

“Whoever named you had the right idea,” you mutter, completely dazed.

You don’t get a chance to recover.

Fuyumi surges forward, grabbing your face, and pulls you to her. You slant your head just in time to meet her kiss, eyes fluttering shut. Her lips are soft, soft yet pleasantly chilled. And they move fervently along yours. Currents spark from her to you, tingling down your spine and electrifying your senses. You meet her passion with your own, shaky and reverent hands moving up to grip her blazer. 

Without breaking the kiss, she steps out of the genkan and strides forward - backing you into your own apartment. Her hands slide from your cheeks and into your hair, tugging. You gasp, startled, and Fuyumi’s tongue is like ice in the warm cavern in your mouth. You groan. She uses her grip on your hair to angle you just so, completely taking over the kiss, and you let her. You want her to.

You move your hands up her back, into her hair - earning you another tug in reprimand - and down again until they find her full hips. You squeeze, enjoying the plush give under your fingers. Fuyumi hums, low and appreciative. You smooth your hands over her curves, slipping your thumbs under the shirt and rubbing circles against her hip bones. 

Fuyumi breaks the kiss just long enough to slide off her blazer, lets it fall to the floor with a muffled foomp and your leather jacket joins it soon after. Then she’s on you again, looping her arms around your shoulders. Pressing close, closer, her full breasts soft against yours. Her lofty exhale condensates in your warm apartment, chilling your lips. Your eyes flutter.

Gripping her hips, you kiss her - kiss her like you wanted to from the moment she first smiled at you. You kiss her like you want to consume her. And Fuyumi meets you, passion for passion, ice for fire. 

You slide your hands further up her turtleneck and skim along cool, soft skin with heated palms. Fuyumi arches, making soft appreciative noises that falter into disappointment when you remove your hands. Next you wind your arms around to fully embrace her, crushing her to you. Fuyumi moans. 

You pull back enough to land several pecks on her smiling lips, making her giggle, and then shower the rest of her face in kisses. Your eager mouth finds her swan-like neck and becomes more sensual, mouthing along the arch. Kissing and sucking and just breathing her in. Fuyumi leans her head back to accept your affections in full.  

“You’re so warm,” she sighs happily. 

Your brain dies and comes back to life. And then you promptly realize the full implication of her words.

Panting, you pull away. You’re still foggy and lost  and looking at Fuyumi, Fuyumi with that glazed over expression and slightly parted lips, certainly does help. But you have to check yourself - make sure you’re still in control.

“What’s wrong?” she asks.

“Just wanted to look at you,” you say. Not a complete, as your gaze sears up and down her body.

“Don’t just look then.” Fuyumi tugs you forward by your shirt. You lean back at the last moment and grin at the frustrated sound she makes in the back of her throat.

“Y/n-san…” 

You kiss her, a quick peck, and dart away before she has the chance to deepen it.

Her nose scrunches up. You kiss that, too. She chases after your lips but you dodge, her lips landing on your cheek instead. You snicker.

“Y/n-san.” There’s a warning in her tone. The sternness in it, the sudden assertiveness, makes you light-headed and eager to obey.

Damn. You make a mental note to explore this later.

“Just wanted to be extra sure this is what you want,” you say breathlessly.

“I told you that I wa - “

You catch her open mouth in yours, kissing her longer, deeper. Your lips smolder against hers. Her responding hum shoots straight to your core. 

When you go to move away again, Fuyumi snares your bottom lip between her teeth and pulls you back in. A hand on your waist slips under your shirt, teasing the skin it finds there. She palms the small of your back. Pushes you closer. You squirm at the unexpected cold, inadvertently pushing yourself closer. She uses this to pull you into her, hands skating up your ribs, palms freezing, touch burning. The air grows hot and humid, a perfect clash between your Quirks, and you’re shivering from something far beyond temperature, beyond arousal. 

“Oh, god…” you eke out as she sucks on the corner of your jaw. You’re too far gone to process it, lost in a strange space between too much and not enough.

It’s only Fuyumi’s mercy that allows you to catch your breath. She pulls back, leaving our lips kiss-swollen and red and panting. You gawk at her.

Her demure smile isn’t kind; it’s the calm before a storm. “Where’s the bedroom?”

A small, pitiful sound - a whimper - escapes you.

This woman is going to be the death of you.

Wordlessly, you grip her thick thighs and lift her up enough to wrap her legs around your waist. Fuyumi yelps. She winds her arms around your shoulders, beaming down at you. You grin up at her adoringly, even when she laughs at you when you bump into your own furniture in your own damn apartment.

“I can’t remember the last time anyone’s carried me,” she says.

Nudging your door open with your foot, you hum thoughtfully. “I can’t remember the last time I had a pretty girl in my arms.”

Fuyumi hides her burning face in your neck. “...you, too.”

“Mm?” 

“You’re pretty, too,” she murmurs, burrowing in your shoulder. She nestles into you endearingly. “Prettier.”

You press a kiss to the side of her head, nuzzling into her hair and breathing in her conditioner. You whisper, “Don’t get in a fight over who’s prettier with me, Fuyumi-san. You’d lose.”

Then you promptly drop her on your bed.

Yelping, Fuyumi bounces on the mattress. She’s still smiling and giggling even when she tries to glare at you. “No, I wouldn’t,” she protests.

Amused, you place one knee on the bed. “Yes. You would.”

“No. I wouldn’t. Have you seen yourself?”

“Occasionally,” you drawl, raising your other knee to fully kneel in front of Fuyumi. 

“But you’re so fit and strong and - “ She bites her lip again, face tinted pink. “You’re gorgeous.”

You take your sweet, sweet time looking Fuyumi up and down. Body half sprawled across your bed, her beautiful hair fans out like a halo. The hem of her shirt is partially pushed up, revealing her pale stomach where a diamond navel piercing gleam and the full flare of her waist.

“I don’t compare,” you say simply, bending down to crawl over to her.

Fuyumi rises up on your elbows to meet you halfway. You straddle her hips, having to stretch out your thighs to fully seat yourself over them. Damn. They’re so solid and soft underneath you. You never want to sit anywhere else again.

Fuyumi’s breath hitches, staring up at you as though entranced. Her hands slip over your thighs. “I think you don’t give yourself enough credit.” 

“I think you,” you carefully slide off her frames, removing the one thing between you and the intensity of her gaze, “need new glasses, Fuyumi-san.”

You fold up her glasses and lean over to put them safely on your side table. The movement moves your hips, unintentionally grinding. The small friction makes you release a stuttery breath.

Hearing it, her own breathing starts to get heavier. Fuyumi tightens her grip on your thighs and pushes back. You groan, long and low in your throat. You start a slow rocking motion, core grinding down. Fuyumi’s hips meet you movement for movement. Her hooded gaze flares.

You place your hands on top of hers, looking down at her with half-lidded eyes. Taking all of her in hungrily. “Fuyumi-san, when you say you haven’t done this before…”

“I mean going home with someone I just met,” she murmurs, caught in the rocking motion. “This isn’t - it won’t be my first time.”

Her earlier ferocity - and the current undulations of her hips under yours - suggested as much, but it’s always good to check. 

You brush your fingers over her slim wrists and up her arms and down again. Feather light. Your touch ghosts over her exposed stomach and then up her lower ribs, pressing fully against her velvet skin. 

Fuyumi arches her back, eyelashes fluttering. Her lips quiver. 

She’s already starting to sweat, slick under your palms. You slide your hands back down and curve over her waist, kneading the bit of fat there. Her fair skin pinkens where you touch her. A small, desperate sound escapes her. 

“God, I love the sound of your voice,” you rasp, grinding harder. “From the moment I first I heard it.”

She laughs a little. “I’m surprised you even heard it. The bar was so loud.”

Rather than respond, you scoot down her thighs in order to bend down and nip a hipbone.

“Y/n-san.”

You groan at the sound of your name before trailing your lips from one hip to the other, your tongue briefly circling around her piercing. Throughout your loving ministrations, you push your hands further up her shirt to her heavy breasts and squeeze softly. Fuyumi arches her back, crying out. 

Eventually, you push her turtleneck up. Fuyumi sits up and you help pull it over her head. Your mouth dries.

Her beautiful hair is a beautiful mess, red tangled in white. Darkened blue eyes stare at you hazily. You finally learn that her flush extends from her round cheeks to her sternum, rosey and warm in the ivory of her skin. Her simple black bra barely restrains her heaving breasts. She’s all curves and supple skin and vanilla-and-jasmine perfume and - 

“How did I get so lucky as to bring you home with me tonight?”

In answer, Fuyumi kisses you. Her insistent lips move from your needy mouth to your neck. You gasp when she finds the sensitive place behind your ear. Her chilled breath makes you tremble. 

“How did I get so lucky as to end up in your bed?” she croons. Then she sucks your earlobe into her frigid mouth.

“Ah!”

She wrangles your shirt off and sends her mouth down the valley of your breasts. You wrap your legs around her waist, squeezing her between your thighs and pressing her into your aching core. Your head lolls, hair falling back. Your breathing is heavy under her. Her fingers tangle with the back of your bra and unclip it with ease. 

Peppering your shoulders with chilled kisses as she slides the straps over them, Fuyumi tosses your bra over the side of the bed and pulls back to admire. You shiver at the dark, glassy look in her eyes. And then put up absolutely no resistance when she pushes you down on the bed.

Freezing hands caress your breasts, making you hiss and raise your back, as they come in contact with your sultry body.

“Sorry,” Fuyumi says, not sounding the least bit put out. “Quirk thing.”

Your chest heaves. “S’fine. Do whatever. Just - just keep touching me.”

Her eyelids lowered, and that demure smile returns. “That’s not a very polite way to ask for what you want, y/n-san.”

You’re not a proud person, and you know what you want. “Please, Fuyumi-san, please keep touching me - aah!”

Fuyumi leans down to circle a nipple with her ice-like tongue, sucking it in with a lewd suctiony sound. Glacial fingers pinch the other. Her other hand trails down, breezing across your ribs, until they find the hem of your pants and toying with the zipper. You pant, grasping at her shoulders for purchase. Forgoing the zipper entirely, Fuyumi cups you through your jeans - fingers rubbing tantalizing circles against your heat. 

“Fuyumi-san!” you whine.

“Such pretty noises…” Fuyumi murmurs against your breast. “And you looked so stoic and serious at the bar. But look at you.”

Fuyumi grinds the heel of her hand into you. You squirm helplessly underneath her wintery body. It feels so good but so intense. You wonder if you’d somehow managed to lure a yuki-onna to your bed.

“You just fall apart at the simplest of touches.” She bends her head over your other breast, biting down gently. She continues to palm at your throbbing core.

You buck your hips, desperate for more friction. “Please…”

Then, in retribution for your earlier teasing, she removes her hand out from between your trembling thighs. You whine. Making direct eye contact with you, Fuyumi pulls back with your nipple still pinched between her teeth. Only after you let loose a satisfactory whimper does she release it. Your other nipple, however, she continues to roll leisurely between her thumb and forefinger. 

“Apologies. You seemed to like how assertive I was earlier. Was I mistaken?”

You don’t deny it. Instead, you say weakly, “Didn’t expect this from an elementary school teacher.”

Smiling amusedly, Fuyumi nuzzles into your too-warm cheek. “I can’t be nice, patient sensei all the time.”

“So you like to get back some control in the bedroom,” you say dryly.

Fuyumi’s answer is scraping her teeth down your throat and sucking a mark into your collarbone. Cold hands seize your breasts, squeezing. A knee slips between your thighs to push against you. You cry out.

“Based on that lovely reponse…” Fuyumi croons, running her hands up and down your sides, “and your clear deflection from my original statement, you like to let go of control in the bedroom. It’s a release.”

Somewhere in the haze of your lust, you catch on. You raise an eyebrow.

She sighs. “Let me guess: high stakes civil service job, demanding work environment, lots of pressure, extremely stressful. You have to be in complete control at all times on the job, always alert, and need your phone on even after hours just in case.”

“...maybe.” She has a scarily clear cut understanding of your “civil service job”, even without the full details such as what exactly it is. 

She smiles understandingly, though there’s a strange twist to it. “I noticed how..alert you were at the bar. Even though you came with friends. You really don’t let yourself relax, do you?”

You turn your head, averting your eyes. 

Gentle fingers pinch your chin and bring them back to meet Fuyumi’s compassionate gaze. ���It’s okay, y/n-san,” she soothes. “I’m sorry. It wasn’t my place - “

“No, you’re right,” you cut her off, voice hoarse. “I - it’s just I… I love my job.”

“I know,” she murmurs, caressing the side of your face. 

Your draw in a breath. “I’m lucky to have it. Especially being a woman. It’s what I’ve wanted since I was a little kid. And it - I get to help so many people. Every day. I feel like I make a real difference, you know? But it’s not easy.”

Fuyumi strokes your hair. “When was the last time you took some time off?”

You scoff, covering your eyes with a forearm. “I just transferred to a new agency a little while ago. I still have a lot to prove.”

This makes Fuyumi frown. “They chose to hire you. You shouldn’t have to prove anything!”

“Fuyumi-san,” you drawl, “you’re taking care of other people again. Didn’t I say it's your turn to be taken care of tonight?”

“Is you taking care of me just ‘helping people’ like you do everyday?” she asks.

“No. Is you asking about my work life and the personal toll it has just another way of asserting control?” you deadpan.

Fuyumi sputters, turning red. “N-no! And how’s wanting to help others ‘control’?”

“‘Help is the sunny side of control,’” you quote, bone dry.

Semi-amused, you watch realization dawn across Fuyumi’s face. “That’s - I never thought about it that way. That’s...quite insightful. Did you come up with that? Or is that from somewhere?”

“Anne Lammottt,” you say dryly. “She wrote this sorta half self-help, half memoir on hope and how to find it when things are at their bleakest. My therapist recommended it. I’ll lend you my copy.”

The bed creaks as Fuyumi sits up, straddling you. Poker faced, you make a herculean effort to keep your gaze directly on her face rather than stray to...well, the gorgeous half-naked body on top of you.

“You have a therapist?”

“High stakes job with heaps of pressure and stress, remember?” you quip. “It would be irresponsible of me not to take care of my mental health. Like skipping a dental cleaning or a vaccination.”

“Yeah…” Again, Fuyumi has that intent, searching look in her eyes. The same one she gave you after admitting how tired you were, how draining caring can be. Without her glasses, it’s only about 100 times more intense. 

And there you are, titties out, laid out like a spread eagle underneath Fuyumi like you’re her personal throne. Not a bad position to be in, of course, but a little odd when her face looks like she’s trying to solve the world’s hardest math problem and not contorted in the throes of passion as gifted by yours truly. You wait it out, though. It seems important.

It’s a nice view anyway.

Finally: “You’re really something, y/l/n y/n.”

You smile up at her lazily. “Thanks. You’re something special yourself, Todoroki Fuyumi.”

Fuyumi smiles down at you like a real life Madonna icon. You’re suddenly reminded of your recently developed Fuyumi-related asthma. And how her luscious thighs are actually a little warm after hugging your body for so long.

You drum your fingers against them, enjoying the feel even through her jeans. “Hey, Fuyumi-san?”

“Mm?”

“How did we go from the hottest foreplay of my life to talking about our mutual tendencies for compulsive caretaking?”

Fuyumi slaps her hands over her reddening cheeks and groans. “Oh, no. I’m sorry, y/n-san!”

“It’s cool,” you say, nonchalant. “We can do a naked book club instead, if you like. Anything you wanna recommend?”

“No! No naked book club - well, maybe later. Wait!” She drags her hands down her face and half-heartedly glowers down at you. Somehow, that stern look makes you throb. “You’re making fun of me.”

“A little,” you admit. You stroke her thighs soothingly. “But I’m also a little serious. If you’d rather do something else, that’s okay. I think I have some puzzles somewhere.“

Snorting, Fuyumi shakes her head. “I want to keep going. I do, I really do. But if I made it too weird or - “

“Great. I want to, too,” you state bluntly. 

“I didn’t make it weird?”

“Sex is weird sometimes. Besides….” You look up at her with heavy-lidded eyes, feeling your desire thrum back to life at her bold reassertion. Your voice turns smokey when you speak next. “I want to make you feel good, Fuyumi-san.”

Fuyumi shudders above you. 

Gripping her thighs, you slowly sit up to avoid jostling her from your lap. Warm hands smooth up her thighs, following the curves of her wide hips and her waistline. Fuyumi shivers when you linger on the sides of her plump breasts. You trace her bra’s outer edges up to the elastic straps and unhurriedly lower the right one. You press a kiss to her bared shoulder, as soft as the newly fallen snow outside.

“I want to make you really, really good.”

You feel how the exhale shudders out of her. “Y/n-san…”

“Will you let me? Will you let me make you feel good, Fuyumi-san?”

She laughs softly, hugging your shoulders. “How do you do that? “

“Do what?” you mumble, sucking at a beauty mark you find.

“Just - mmph, right there - just turn the situation around? It was so a-aah! Awkward and now it’s like this again.” 

You laugh huskily. “A little trick I learned on the job.”

“Seducing people?”

“Are you seduced?” you purr.

“Y-yes. But seriously...” 

“Let’s just say... I learned how to assess a situation and Turn. It. Around. In my favor.” You kiss up her neck with each word, breathing in deeply.

She gently scratches down your back, soft lines that make you shudder. “Mm, you’re a good civil servant.” 

This draws a smirk from you. “Thanks. Now...back to my question.”

“Mm?” Fuyumi’s eyes flutter.

You whisper hotly against her ear, “Will you let me make you feel good?”

“Yes, please.”

Grinning, you kiss her ear and set to work.

You unsnap her bra clasp, sliding the silky undergarment off and lazily letting it fall from your hand. Her supple breasts fall free with gentle bounce. Hand on her shoulder, you lightly push her onto her back and Fuyumi goes down willingly. Lips parted, you stare down at her darkly. 

Expression hazy, she smiles up at you. “Please take care of me.”

“I’ll try my best,” you promise, voice low and gravelly.

You cup her breasts, relishing the soft weight of them in your hands, and rub slow circles over them. Then you bend down to tongue a slow circle around a dusky nipple before sucking it into your eager mouth. Fuyumi sighs, cupping the back of your neck. You hum, then go to turn your attention to the next. Gently heating your lips, you press gossamer-like kisses all over her flushed chest. From there, you kiss down her sternum and down her chest.

“Y/n-san,” she calls softly as you leave marks along her stomach.

You sink blunt teeth into he left hip and she gasps. Trembling underneath you, Fuyumi grips your hair and moans.

You slip a finger under her jeans, looking to her with lifted eyebrows. At her nod, you unbutton her jeans and - in return for her icy teasing - unzip the fly with your teeth. She gasps. You tug at the loosened denim, to which she lifts her hips, and you slide down her jeans past her hips where you kiss and suck and nip. Then you pull the jeans down her thighs. You swallow at the sight of her pink panties, pupils dilating at the dark stain over her folds.

Still, you take your time - gently pulling her jeans off one creamy leg at a time. You kiss every inch of new skin revealed, reveling in Fuyumi’s increasingly shallow breathing. You watch her chest rise and fall, breasts heaving. 

She’s easily the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen in your life.

Not looking away once, you toss the jeans to some far corner and settle between her thighs. You’re not even aware of where you are, so consumed with the sight and smell of her. 

“Y-y/n-san,” she calls.

“Shh, darling,” you murmur, landing a kiss on the inside of her knee. You trace your lips down the soft skin of her inner thigh. “I know, I know.”

“Hurry.”

“Almost there. I’m going to take such good care of you, I promise.”

She moans, the precious noise pitching louder when you press your lips to the sweet wetness pooled between her thighs. You flick the full length of your tongue over her. Delicate fingers grip the back of your head, cold and insistent, and you groan. The vibrations send her hips rolling and you follow along with the motions, licking and sucking through her underwear, breathing through your nose, tenderly thumbing circles into her hip bones. Despite the delicious press of her clenching thighs against your ears, you hear her call your name - broken between a plea and a command. And you obey.

Without wasting another moment, you pull away and hook your fingers under the hem of her panties. You slide the garment down her hips, groan at the pearly strands of her essence clinging to her puffy inner lips, and pull it down her lush thighs. 

Impatient, Fuyumi sits up enough to shove her panties the rest of the way off. Then her hand returns to the back of your head which she immediately guides to her cunt. You grasp her thighs, spreading them open for better access. You latch onto her hot bundle of nerves and suck into your mouth. Encouraged by her cries, you lave your tongue between her folds while your thumb continues toying with her clit. 

Nails scrape against your scalp, sending shocks of pained pleasure through you and inciting another moan. You bury your tongue inside her, reveling in the full taste of her. A mewl rewards your efforts. Chin shiny with her juices, you pull back only to return to her clit. You press a kiss there, two, three, before sucking it back into your hot mouth. Your fingers slide inside her; velvety walls clench around them, pulsing rhythmically as you slide in and out. 

Lashes fluttering, you lift your gaze to meet Fuyumi’s piercing blue eyes - bright and demanding above the flush of her cheeks and her neck and her heaving chest. Her grip tightens in your hair. You close eyes, blissed out, and delve your tongue deeper inside her until your nose is pressed against her clit. You delight in the wet friction. 

Her legs tremble, one hooked over your shoulder. Her cries rise - higher, higher, pitching into the dark ceiling. The sweetest of noises. You whimper when her thighs clench around you, following the undulations of her hips. Your own squirm against the sheets, arousal pooling in your underwear, as you listen. You feel it before she cries out: hands grasping, thighs shaking, labia twitching, her inner walls clenching around you. 

Ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. All because of you.

Fuyumi calls your names.

Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes -

Cold. 

Cold, cold, cold.

Under Fuyumi’s hands, ice coats your shoulders and spreads down your back. Your hair is stiff and frozen. Where her juices coated your lips and chin, now frozen. Even the tip of your nose has frost.

You blink.

Fuyumi gapes at you, horrified. 

“You know...when the weather forecast said snowy night in Tokyo, this isn’t what I expected.”

“I am SO sorry!”

You burst out laughing.

She hides her bright red face in her hands. “I’m sorry, y/n-san! Do you have a hair dryer? Let me -- “

“Nah, I’m okay. See?” You channel your Quirk, focusing on the warmth always present in the center of your chest, and let the heat spread throughout the rest of your body. Steam rises from your skin as the frost melts, not leaving so much as a droplet of moisture behind. 

Hands lowered, Fuyumi’s jaw drops. “You...you have a fire Quirk.”

“Opposites really do attract, huh?” Eyes crinkling, you laugh. 

It’s the only sound in the bedroom. 

“...Fuyumi-san?”

Speechless, Fuyumi stares at you with wide, wide eyes. The climax-induced flush is gone, bleached from her skin. She covers her mouth with a shaky hand.

You immediately recognize that expression. It’s the look a civilian had before they were saved, before help arrived. Fear. Seeing it on her face makes your stomach turn. It reminds you of the time you rescued a child from a burning building after a villain set off an electrical fire - the initial relief on the boy’s face evolving into sheer panic when you activated your own flames to fight the villain off before back-up came. You’d hated yourself for reigniting that fear so soon after the initial trauma.

And now? You’re bewildered and cautious. 

“Hey...you alright there?”

“I - yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.” Fuyumi swiftly looks away, shrinking in on herself. She brings her arms up to her bare chest. 

Resisting the urge to frown, you put up an air of calm. You wordlessly lift a sheet and - avoiding sudden movements - wrap it around her shoulders.

She blinks at you.

“A lot of people have had bad experiences with fire,” you say, non-judgemental. You smile softly. “I get it. It can be pretty scary sometimes. But I can guarantee you that I have better control over my Quirk than most people. Haven’t had an accident since I was 10.”

“I’m not - that’s not it, y/n-san.” Even saying that, Fuyumi pulled the sheet tighter around herself.

You lifted and lowered your shoulders in a languid shrug. “It doesn’t matter what it was or wasn’t. And you don’t have to explain it to me, either.”

Her bottom lip trembles. “Y/n-san - “ 

“Fuyumi-san,” you say, hushed. “It’s okay.”

You won't lie to yourself, though: It hurts. But you recognize a trigger when you see one. If years of general wariness of your flames didn’t teach you that, your training certainly did.

It’s that same training that allows you to smile at her reassuringly. “Hey… Look.” 

You hold your hand out, palm side up. Watching her face carefully, searching for even the slightest flinch, you focus the heat under your skin to converge at the center of your palm: A spark, then a shimmer, and a small flame comes to life. No bigger than a birthday candle, it casts a soft light across your face. 

Fuyumi’s eyes flicker between your tender expression and the tiny fire. Your own gaze doesn’t waver from her face, even as you slowly twist your hand and will the flame to move sluggishly along your palm, your wrist, over your knuckles, and between your fingers. Fuyumi watches all the while. 

You urge the flare to your to the very tip of your index finger and hold it up to your mouth. You purse your lips, not unlike a kiss, and extinguish it with a small puff. You wink at her. “See? Perfect control.”

While she is still hunched under the sheet, it at least earns you a small, wobbly smile. 

You hold out your hand, again palm side up. She immediately looks at it, clearly expecting another flame. The corner of your mouth twitches and you wiggle your fingers a little. 

It’s a relief when she accepts the silent offer, placing her small hand in yours. Your fingers wrap around hers. Tenderly, carefully, you brush your over her knuckles. Like you’re holding something infinitely precious.

“I was a pretty stupid kid, you know. You would’ve hated having me in your classroom,” you say suddenly, still fixated on your joined hands.

Fuyumi looks almost offended. “No, I wouldn’t!”

It makes you grin a little. “You’re right. You’re an amazing teacher - one of those saintly ones with tons of patience for even the brattiest of kids. I can tell. But trust me, even little me would have given you a run for your money. I was pretty full of myself, just because of an accident of being born with some flashy Quirk. Always showing off and playing around with it.”

At this, your smile fades into a grim line. “But you know what they say about playing with fire. ‘Cept I can’t burn but others sure can. I learned that the hard way...at someone else’s expense.”

“...the accident when you were 10,” Fuyumi recalls, voice faint.

“It was someone I really care about,” you say. Your mouth twists into a self-contemptuous sneer as you shake your head. “I knew how to start fires but hadn’t yet learned how to put them out. So much for the little show off.”

Suddenly, her hand squeezes yours. You blink.

“You were only a child, y/n-san,” she whispers. Her eyebrows scrunch together and without her glasses, there’s nothing between you and those fierce eyes. “It was an accident.”

“Doesn’t matter. Someone else paid for it,” you say, uncompromising. She opens her mouth to protest. You raise her hand to kiss her knuckles which immediately snaps her mouth close. “And I’ve been a whole lot more careful since then. I promised myself that I would use my Quirk to protect people, not hurt them. Especially not someone I care about.”

At that, you press your lips to her slim wrist. You gently suck at the blue-ish veins beneath delicate skin, kissing the heel of her hand and then her own palm and finally the tips of fingers. You look up to see Fuyumi’s cherry red face.

“Are you hungry?”

“W-what?” She sounds half as breathless as you felt most of the evening. Payback, sweetheart.

“I promised to take care of you tonight, remember? So. Are you hungry?”

Fuyumi stares at you, taking in your still half-dressed state and kiss-bruised lips. “What about you? I didn’t...you know.”

You shrug. “It’s fine. Lemme get you a glass of water at least.”

After her near panic attack and the sudden turn in conversation, you figure she might not be in the best headspace to...reciprocate. Besides, nothing dashes the libido quite like your partner almost freaking out at your Quirk.

You swing your legs over the edge of the bed and stretch your arms out, oblivious to Fuyumi’s sharpened stare where your back muscles ripple with the movement. You push your hair back, lightly scratching your head as you lazily search the floor for your shirt. 

“Wanna watch a movie or something? I think I have some popcorn. We could - “

Cool hands smooth over your waist, meeting in the middle of your stomach. You feel the swell of her breasts against your too-warm back, tight nipples on your shoulder blades. Chilled lips brush the junction of your neck and shoulder, following the curve of your neck. She catches your earlobe between her teeth and tugs. 

Your breath hitches. 

Her hands trail up your abdomen, leaving shivers in their wake, before cupping your breasts. You arch your back, consequently pushing yourself further into her. Her thumbs smooth twin circles around your nipples, her natural chill sensitizing them. 

“Fuyumi….” Her name is a weak moan from your mouth.

“Thank you for taking care of me,” comes her wintry whisper. “Let me return the favor, okay?”

“A-are you sure? A-ah! Fuyumi!”

“I told you, y/n, I want it. And I’ll take it if I have to.”

There is a higher power and apparently, that higher power fucking loves you.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

It’s habit that wakes you up in the early morning. Drowsily, you blink up at your ceiling and then turn your head on your pillow to find Fuyumi’s face inches from yours. Her cheek is squished against a pillow, snowy strands caught in her mouth. 

You stare at her in silent awe. 

Eventually, your stomach reminds you of your basic needs and by extension Fuyumi’s eventual needs as well. Breakfast then. You sit up slowly, taking care not to wake her. You swing your legs over the bed and pad your way around fallen clothes. You pick them up, sorting out which were whose. Your cell drops out of your pants.

You remember your promise to Kamiji. Turning on your cell, you grimace at the low power and then pause at the many...many messages on it.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: RED ALERT RED ALERT

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: YO Y/N PICK UP

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: As GREAT as a time you’re having right now...pick up.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Yl//n.

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Y/l/n. 

Burnin’ 🔥💪💪: Y/l/n y/n.

Frowning, you press “call” on her contact. A few rings carry on, setting your nerves at ease. You know that if it really was an emergency, she would be awake and pick up immediately.

A groggy voice answers. “Must’ve been a fun night.”

“Kamiji, what’s up?” you murmur.

“Did you take that girl home with you?”

“Uuh…” You glance at Fuyumi’s curled up form. The sheets drape over the curve of her hips and tangle between her legs, leaving her mostly bare. Her arms stretch out above her head, feathery hair a tangled mess, carmine streaks vibrant in the sunrise. A few of your marks stand out, red and violet, on the fair skin of her waist and chest. Perfect matches to the ones all over your chest.

You don’t realize you’re smiling like an idiot until you hear your name repeated, louder and louder. “Y/l/n… Y/L/N! HEY!”

You scowl, soundlessly slipping out of bed and snatching a robe on the way out. You muffle your phone against your collarbone until you’re safely in the kitchen where Kamiji’s yelling won’t wake Fuyumi up.

“Yes, Kamiji, I took her home with me and now I’m going to make her breakfast. There a problem?” 

Coffee. You need coffee. 

“Well, at least you’re treating her right. Hopefully that’ll work in your favor.”

“What are you talking about?” you grouse, getting your coffee maker ready. You mentally go over what you have in the fridge. Do you have enough to make something? Or should you run to the cafe to grab something? Would you get back before Fuyumi wakes up? Maybe you should wait and see if she’d want to go with you...

A dark laugh from the receiver. “You really have no idea who she is, do you?”

You freeze. Tightening your grip on the phone, you glance warily at your closed bedroom door. “...why, is she a villain?”

“You wish.”

Your brow furrows. “What?”

“You’re completely fireproof, right?” 

“Yes,” you say, frowning. “It’s pretty much why Endeavor hired me.”

Kamiji makes a small, aggravated noise. “He hired for more than that, y/l/n. But we’ll get into that later - before our boss gives a whole new meaning to firing you.”

“Fire me? For what?”

“What’s his name, y/l/n? His actual name?”

You really do not like where this conversation was going. “Todoroki Enji?”

“And who did you take home with you last night?”

“...that’s not funny, Kamiji.”

“I’m not joking.”

“It’s a common last name,” you protest, “and they look absolutely nothing alike - “

Except.

Except for the red in her hair. 

And the color of her eyes, the curve of her nose, the angle of her eyebrows...

The same family name.

Her reaction to your fire Quirk.

You even met at a bar close to the Endeavor Hero Agency.

“No.”

“Yeeeaaah. You slept with the #2 hero’s only daughter.”

For the first time since you were 10, you lose control of your Quirk - setting your favorite robe aflame.

“SHIT!”

Kamiji’s laughter is barely heard over the smoke alarm. Burnt cotton fills the kitchen air and you tear off the robe to throw it in the sink, immediately turning on the faucet. And then there you are, wearing nothing but a few love bites, as you fight with the smoke alarm to shut it up. 

Having taken the batteries out, you snatch up the phone and hiss, “I slept with our boss’s daughter? Our boss boss? Endeavor?”

“You work for my father?” 

You swear you feel the blood draining from your face. Slowly, mechanically, you turn around. She stands just outside your room, a vision in white sheets. The girl you met last night, the girl you’re pretty sure you fell a little in love with at first sight. The one you took home with you.

Todoroki Fuyumi.

Endeavor’s only daughter.

The higher power fucking hates you.

❈────────•✦•❅•✦•───────❈

Note: When Fuyumi says “Please take care of me” during introductions with reader, it’s actually an English translation of “Yoroshiku onegaishimasu” which is more of a concept than a direct translation. Cool explanation here for my fellow language nerds.

[funkyfreshramblings]

A Story Twenty Years in the Making

CW: Swearing, sex, transphobia (Look, I'm not proud of who I was).

Shortly after I was born, a cousin of mine was as well. My mother took me to a store where she looked to buy a dress for her new niece to celebrate her birth. A woman stopped and looked at my mother, baby Devon in the stroller, dress in her hand, and curiously spoke up.

"Excuse me miss, but you know that you have a boy, right?" The woman shopping, presumably for her own daughter, had said to my mother.

"Of course I know I have a son. What about it?" My mother said in response.

"Well, that's a dress you're holding. Why would you be buying that for your son?" The woman puzzled.

My mother, quick as a whip and smarter than most people I know today, responded without a second thought.

"I'm letting him experiment with his sexuality."

---

At twelve (12) years old, I became aware of this really weird website. You see, everyone was talking about it, a schoolyard rumour we didn't dare to talk about in front of the teachers. The mythical status of this website was nothing to scoff at, students would huddle around and talk about their findings. It was like an ARG, a new puzzle added every day. The school was rife with these conversations, and everyone was hooked.

I'm of course talking about Pornhub.

Obligatory "don't go on Pornhub unless you're the legal viewing age in your country" aside (even though I'm aware those warnings stop nobody), I too became a curious mind. One day, when my parents had slipped out of the house and I was alone, I pulled it up on my computer upstairs. What I say fascinated me, women and men having sex.

Sex. Woah. Penises, vaginas, anuses. There was everything on this website. Everything. Including this one tab which I didn't dare click.

This one category had what appears to be two men on it. I assumed it was two men, after all neither of them had pronounced breasts like all the women had. And the title of the category? Gay. 'What the fuck does that mean?' twelve-year-old (12) me thought. I ignored it, thought it was weird, and continued on.

In the back of my mind, I was curious. A few weeks after watching straight porn and being mostly repulsed by how awful the women screamed in those videos, I tried it. I clicked on the category tab and was immediately hit with my first exposure to the gay community.

'Twink? Bear? Fisting? Now that's nasty.' I was curiously disgusted but clicked on anyways. "Twinks" looked cute, so I clicked there. Wait, cute? Did I really think these guys were cute? Like I thought my girlfriend was cute?

The video was, simply put, less aggressive than straight porn. Holy shit was straight porn aggressive. It terrified me how much those women screamed like the men were killing them by inserting their penises too far into their bodies. But gay porn looked softer. It was sweeter, with more love. After all, sex is about love, right? Forgive my younger self, you see. He clearly did not understand that nothing in porn is about love. But hey, when working with a half deck, you have to make the cards work.

So I watched gay porn over straight porn. That doesn't mean I'm gay! But wait, if gay porn is between two men, what is porn between a woman and a man. What's porn between two women? Never mind, I'm not that curious about two women together.

A quick Google search sent me down the most soul-searching adventure I'd ever partake in. At least, up until this point.

I soon learned what gay meant, what straight meant, what lesbian meant. You mean boys liking other boys was normal? Girls can like other girls? Wait, you can like boys and girls?

Oh, wait, you can also not be sexually attracted to anyone.

Asexual was a term I first read those years ago, and I soon thought that it described me. See, up until this point, women never interested me sexually. I was twelve (12). Sex really never crossed my mind, even when it was supposed to. But I was watching porn, I thought!

Doesn't matter. I didn't want to be part of those acts. That's what made me ace, I thought.

My lord was I wrong. (Not about ace people, but about my identity. This is where things get juicy. And chuddy.)

---

Okay, so cut to two years later. I'm fourteen (14), in grade ten (10) during Art class. One of my friends sat beside me, my ex across from me, and I hated Art class. Why'd I taken this god-awful course again? Regardless, as I sat there and thought, I thought about my bullying up until high school.

I filled out as a kid. I mean that literally, I grew tall and wide really quickly. No one fucked with me when I was in high school. No one wanted to, and I faded to the background.

But in elementary school, I was the new kid. Backing up to 2009, eight-year-old (8) Devon moved. I would celebrate my ninth (9th) birthday in a class where no one knew me or no one cared. Well, that's not true. One kid cared. Bless that kid. Regardless, 9-year-old (9) me had a target on his back. A big one, and it quickly meant I was being bullied.

My mother is terrifying. I use bold there because I don't think italics can describe just how terrifying mama-bear is when she's angry. After finding out that I was being bullied, she pulled into the school and chewed out the principal. And the parents. And the kids. Hell hath no fury like a mother who went through the shit mine did. So quickly the bullying died down.

Stopped? No, but quieted. My new friends surrounded me in a wonderful bubble of love, but that didn't mean they also didn't pick on me. The most common insult? Gay.

Gay? Like, porn gay? No no no, I said. I'm not gay.

Cut back to 14-year-old (14) me, thinking throughout Art class. I swear Ms. Taylor had it out for me. Oh, right, gay.

'Holy shit.' I thought.

'Wait. They're right, I'm gay. I like men. Holy shit I really like men. Men are hot, and I want to be with one so bad. But I live in this crap town of conservatives (my parents taught me right, conservatives are some of the shittiest people on the planet after all).'

Okay, so I'm gay. I figured that out at the very least! Now I have to tell people.

Oh. Fuck. I have to tell people.

Coming out. Hell, as I like to call it. First to my friends. My friends would understand, after all, I had a pansexual friend. What the fuck does pansexual mean? Never mind that Devon, focus on your own damn self for a second.

Oh. My. God. I have to tell people.

I pulled up my big boy pants and blurted out in the middle of class...

Nothing. What did you expect?

I waited 'till the next morning. That made sense.

---

"Hi, Sierrah!" I said to my colourful friend. Her hair was always a different colour every month and still is. I wish I had half the hair strength she must have.

"Hey, Devon!" She said, blue backpack on her back, meeting up with me to walk to school in the morning.

"I have something to tell you. I'm gay." She looked at me and squealed before wrapping me in a big hug.

"I'm so proud of you!" Okay, one down. A lot more to go.

My best friend in high school used to be someone who I absolutely despised. We bonded over our shared dislike of our shared ex. We became really close. Telling him was pretty easy. Okay, two down.

Remember that girl I sat beside during Art? Not my ex, the one I bonded with my best friend over disliking, I meant the girl sitting beside me. Well, let me tell you.

No one can give me a reception nearly half as good as what she did when I told her.

"Sara, I'm gay," I said. Less than five (5) seconds later, my face was buried in the tits of Sara. That was... fun. Not sexual in the slightest, it was fun. She was warm, and she loved me. I could tell that as a friend, Sara would become the most important person in my life. Thank you, Sara. Should you ever read this.

I hope someone reads this.

Anyone?

Moving on, I eventually told all my friends that day. None of them gave a shit! Cool!

My parents.

Oh no. My parents were next.

I'm skipping that part, it's no longer relevant.

Sorry. (Not sorry in the slightest.)

---

So I graduated the gay kid of 2018. Yay! Seventeen-year-old (17) me made it to grad!

But before I did, I need to preface this part of the story. I was, unfortunately, a fan of Soygon of Asskad. And Blairina Weiss.

Shame. Shame. Shame. Not a day goes by where I'm not sorry for my actions during this period of my life. I am so profusely sorry for the racism and transphobia I perpetuated during this period of my life. I was even homophobic. God damn it, Devon, what the fuck are you doing?

I am now a proud socialist. University helped. So did Vaush, and BadBunny (who's chat might be reading this. Henlo Nicole! Henlo chat!).

Scream at me about Vaush later.

Okay, where was I? Right, grad. University applications.

I made it into the University of Toronto Mississauga. Canada's best university. One of the best universities in the world. Holy shit, I should be more proud of myself for that. I am proud. I made it there, and as I write this, I'm on my last year.

Here's to me becoming a med student soon, I hope!

So school happened. I went to school as a shy gay kid with undiagnosed anxiety problems. That wouldn't last, and soon my anxiety was written in the prescriptions I was handed over the counter for Lexapro. This is where I met my first friend from university.

He will remain unnamed for legal reasons.

He introduced me to one of the most beautiful men I've met to this date.

S. (Name redacted for reasons you need not know. Not legal reasons. Personal ones. Please respect this decision.)

Woah, was this guy just... hot. He was an athlete, no way he'd like me. He probably also sleeps around, and I don't want that.

Boy was I wrong. I soon found out that S was very much into me. I was someone's crush. Wow!

That eventually turned into a... relationship. You get the gist. Affirmation.

I was very, very gay. S helped me understand that I was very very gay.

Okay, so eighteen-year-old (18) Devon was gay. That was very clear.

So that's the end of the story, right?

No.

We just crossed the halfway point.

---

Cut to twenty (20). I am gay, an active chatter in BadBunny's (Twitch streamer, not singer) discord, and really really confused.

See, progressive streamers like BadBunny typically have features to add yourself to a role on Discord that would tell everyone your pronouns when they clicked on your profile. This is a really good way to affirm pronouns of everyone, so I'm down.

Well, I do have one problem. Any/all isn't listed here. Wait.

Wait...

Any? All?

Why do I feel like this?

I'm cis. Let me make that clear. I am cisgendered. I identify as a man, I was born a man, and I think I will always be a man. I think.

But I know pronouns don't necessarily tell you someone's gender. They is a really popular pronoun for all sorts of non-binary identities, all of which are different from each other. So pronouns do not equal gender.

Can I really use they/them, she/her, he/him, fae/faer, fawn/fawn, etc/etc. all while being cis? I think so, let's try it! I don't know how to describe my gender, all I know is I'm apathetic to my pronouns.

Cut to a TikTok video. I learned my fucking gender identity from a TikTok video. This is why representation is important.

"Gender Apathy" we're the words coming from this person's mouth. She? He? Them? Didn't matter, they didn't care. I didn't care.

We didn't care.

Holy fuck.

---

Google has been a really important resource for me as an academic student. Wikipedia articles affirm my suspicions before I move onto Google Scholar to look up articles.

I'm fucking kidding.

Fuck Google Scholar.

But Google did introduce me to the world of fandom wikis.

Is gender wiki a thing? LGBTQ+ wiki?

As it turns out, it is.

Gender Apathy is an article there, as well as many many other identities. If you're question, do some keyword searches. You'll never know what you find.

Anyways, Gender Apathy. Cisapathetic, which I kind of interpret as someone who identifies as cisgender but doesn't really care? I guess? This is all still confusing, but whatever. Cisapathetic.

I quickly shared this with all my friends. I found something new out!

But we aren't done yet.

---

Cut to a little while later. It's Pride month, 2021. This month, if you happen to read this as soon as it goes up! Someone on TikTok is making Pride moths.

Fucking TikTok.

Moths were, at one point, a really popular meme online. Lämp. Gen Z humour will be the end of us all.

So naturally, people found a love for moths. Great, that's lead us to this point. I notice during these videos that these moths are pretty. I want one, or rather, two.

I want the modern Pride moth. The trans flag and a black and brown stripe were included on this modern Pride flag to signal that BIPOC are central to Pride, and need to be celebrated and that our trans friends need our help. Need our platform. Need our rights too.

And I wanted the Gender Apathetic moth. After all, it was something new I discovered! Well, I noticed something in the comments while I was requesting a Gender Apathetic moth from this creator (they were open to suggestions, so please don't heckle me about it). One commenter said the words "are you doing a Neptunic/Uranic/Saturnic moth as well?" What the hell are those?

To the LGBTA wiki!

Neptunic is described as a sexuality "attracted to women, feminine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Saturnic is described as a sexuality "attracted to androgynous aligned non-binary people."

Uranic is the one I'm really curious about then. I'm attracted to men, after all. Uranic is described as a sexuality "attracted to men, masculine non-binary people and neutral non-binary people."

Woah.

So let me back up a little bit.

When I had access to Twitter (they suspended me for defending my sexuality from someone who was saying gay men all have AIDS, so thanks Twitter) I once made a thread talking about how I didn't feel comfortable with calling myself gay.

"But Devon," I hear you say, "the whole first half of this story was dedicated to you realizing you were gay! How can you say that after wasting so much of our fucken' time?"

Give me a minute, dear reader. Let me explain what I said in this thread.

As I type this out, I recognize the transphobia I had against trans-men even while typing out that thread. I want to say, right here, right now, that my sexuality is trans-inclusive. Men with vaginas are still men. I am still very much attracted to men with vaginas. But this thread still falls on transphobic remarks. Once again, I profusely apologize for my past. I am currently working towards being a better person to my trans friends, both online and offline. I am doing my best to be better. I love you all, and I thank you for taking the time out of your day to read this.

Oh, and U of T, if you're reading this, before you even think about kicking me out for admitting my previous bigotry, I urge you to think about your staff first. Jordan Peterson still has a job and makes the campus trans-exclusive as he continues to teach. Catch yourself before you come for me, a student doing his best to be better.

Okay, so back to the Twitter thread.

I essentially said something along the lines of this:

I really struggle with calling myself gay when in reality, I'm only attracted to people with penises, and who lack vaginas and breasts. I would have sex with non-binary people who have penises. So am I really just "gay?"

But in a lot more words. Before I continue, I want to take the time to explain how this comment is transphobic, and why I am sorry and why I want to explain that I no longer feel this way. Okay? So, here's the short of it:

I go by the term gay, but by saying I'm explicitly only attracted to people with penises while liking men, I was indirectly making the point that trans-men are not men if they too do not have penises.

This is not true. Trans men are men, and I have come to realize my attraction for trans men as well, despite genitalia. My sexuality encompasses men of all kinds, and non-binary people who are masculine aligned or neutrally aligned. Once again, I can only apologize and do better.

I am sorry for my previous transphobia. I hope I can make it better by acknowledging it and doing my best to avoid these implications ever again.

Okay, now that we have all of that out of the way, let's talk Uranic again.

Uranic really does describe me. I feel it in every bone of my body, that I really do find myself sexually attracted to even non-binary people.

So, gay is out, uranic is in.

Where does that leave me today?

---

When I started this post, I explained how I was a cisgendered gay man who was a liberal who almost fell down the alt-right pipeline. But as I type this post, not only has my identity evolved, but so has my political ideology. I am a cisapathetic, uranic man who still uses the term gay in casual conversation because it's easier even though it doesn't really describe me, socialist.

BadBunny/Nicole, chat, if you're reading this, thank you. You helped me a ton in discovering socialism and to reject ideas of capitalism that only serve to continue the systematic racism against black people, the systematic transphobia that kills trans people, and even the systematic homophobia I face as a "gay" man.

Wow, that was long. Really long. If you made it this far, give yourself a pat on the back. You just read the life history of a twenty-year-old (20) and how he came to understand his identity.

I love you all.

Signed,

Devon.

FunkyFreshHomo on Discord.

[brightershadows]

Euphorically Honest-- Euphoria, Teenagers, and the Realities in Hardship

OVERVIEW

Euphoria is brutally honest about the hardships of life. Focusing on the stories of a group of teenagers in modern-day California, it navigates through issues of drug addiction, sexuality, masculinity and femininity, violence, and depression. It can be tragic and liberating. But it is honest. Created by Sam Levinson, a screenwriter for Assassination Nation and The Wizard of Lies,  the story reflects on his own experience with drug addiction as a teenager, as well as having a loose basis in an Israeli show of the same name (Stack, 2019). The story follows a group of young people of varying genders, ethnicities, classes, and sexualities, including the drug-addicted narrator Rue, new-to-the-suburbs Jules, Cassie, beautiful but easily manipulated, her kind and easy-going sister Lexi, Kat, who embraces her body type as she gains confidence through sex, Nate, a manipulative and dominating male with control issues, and his girlfriend, Maddy, who battles her self-identity and her reliance on Nate (Levinson, 2019). Euphoria can be seen as overly graphic, or critiqued as too sexual, but its mature nature allows it to unearth the ugly truths about life, living, and loving, and the beauty behind the hardships too. 

EPISODE TWO REVIEW

In “Stuntin Like My Daddy,” Nate discovers his father’s sex tape collection at a very young age, videos of his father having sex with several people. This is where Nate’s disdain male sexual anatomy stems from. Nate quickly becomes infatuated with Maddy. Whether disturbing or romantic, he fantasizes about hurting or killing the person who dares harms her. A series of flashbacks from Rue’s summer shows her consuming various drugs and getting high, fighting with her mom, waking up in the hospital, and singing in the car with her mom and sister, highlighting what she has gone through as well as her relationship with her family. On several occasions, Rue relapses. Reluctantly and unable to say no, she takes a dose of fentanyl. Unaware of the consequences, Jules is called to take care of Rue. Their friendship further develops. Kat learns that an explicit video of her has been posted to a porn website. When the video’s view count continues to grow, Kat is intrigued and signs for a web cam streaming account. Obsessed with Maddy, Nate begins stalking Tyler, Maddy’s most recent hookup. Maddy, still wanting to get back together with Nate, tells him that she was blacked out and did not mean to do what she did. This causes Nate to believe that Tyler had raped Maddy. Furious, Nate breaks into Tyler’s apartment and beats him half to death. At the end of the episode, we learn that the guy Jules has been texting is named Tyler but it actually turns out to be Nate.

Nate Jacobs is the typical football jock, yet he exhibits anger, aggression, and sociopathic behavior. Rue Bennett struggles with her own psyche as she suffers from ADHD, bipolar, general anxiety, BPD (borderline personality disorder), and drug addiction. Jules Vaughan is unapologetically herself, although she seems to seek attention, approval, and sexual relationships from men who are undeserving of her. Maddy Perez is the popular cheerleader who knows she is attractive and she goes after what she wants. She stands up to everybody else except Nate. Kat Hernandez may seem like a side character, the fat best friend, at first, but she finds her confidence grows as an individual. Fez/Fezco is Rue’s main drug dealer. Although he supplies her, he also cares for Rue and does want her to get mixed up with a worst crowd.

Although there are people of color in the show, there could always be more representation of race. Rue and her sister, Gia, are mixed, with a Black mom and a white dad. Maddy is Latina as both of her parents are Latino. Kat Hernandez is also of Latin descent but we do not see much of her parents or family. Every other (main) character in this episode is white, this includes Nate, Jules, and Tyler. This show, and episode, is not particularly making any waves or strides with their representation of race. And with the representation of race that they do have, there is no portrayal of racial identity, culture, or heritage. Jules definitely stands out as she is a transgender woman. She is currently taking hormones and her father and closest friends accept her for who she is. Jules goes on to have sexual encounters with older men as well budding romances with boys her age. Nate is a stark contrast to Jules, with him being set in his heteronormative, gender binary ways. Most, if not all of the characters identify with the gender that they present. The males, Nate and Fez identity as male. The females, Rue, Kat, Jules, and Maddy identify as female. The main characters mainly fall into one of the two binary genders. All of the romantic or sexual relationship aspects in episode 2 revolve around a male and a female, such as Nate and Maddy, or Maddy and Tyler, or even Jules and her mysterious texter (a man). To my knowledge, there is no presence of a non-binary or agender character. Jules, a transgender woman, challenges Nate’s notion of the strict gender binary system.

Euphoria definitely relies on stereotypes because the writers of this show intend on having the characters break said stereotypes. Kat is initially insecure and self-conscious. After she has sex for the first time and the video of the act gets leaked, she redefines herself. Her sexuality blossoms throughout this show as she also begins to have casual sex which normalizing women having and enjoying sex. Kat becomes comfortable with herself by wearing clothes that are considered more edgy, outfits that she would have never worn before. Kat’s character breaks the sexuality stereotype because the media hardly ever sees a plus-sized woman be expressed in a sexually positive light, even though it may not have started out that way. Nate’s character is embodiment of the toxic, cis-gendered white masculinity. He describes the perfect girl as dressing more feminine, acting like a “proper lady,” and overall more “girly” as opposed to “tomboy.” Because he is so uncomfortable with the male sexual anatomy, and even disturbed by how comfortable others are, he may have some issues regarding internal homophobia. Nate does not really defy this stereotype, his character is the epitome of this stereotype. Maddy, a cisgender, heterosexual female, understands the delicate nature of the gender constructed society. She has prioritized Nate and his needs sexually by watching porn in order to mimic what the porn actress does so that she can please Nate. Her sexuality is rarely mentioned, it only rises in conjunction with other boys. Jules’ character as a transgender person challenges the conventional gender roles and constructs. Jules is very comfortable with herself and her sexuality and is proud of who she is.The concept of a non-binary gender system perplexes many people. With the current administration, transgender rights are not protected. In fact, transgender people are continued to be discriminated against. The Trump administration has played a major role in “withdrawing regulatory protections for transgender children in schools, fought recognition of transgender people under federal employment laws, banned transgender people from serving in the military, rolled back protections for transgender people in prisons, and threatened to cut off funding to schools that let transgender girls participate in sports” (Thoreson). Although Jules is able to be who she want to be and live the life that she wants, this may not be the case for many transgender people in the real world outside of the show.

Today people are often quick to criminalize or shun drug users and addicts. They are quick to judge and want the most severe punishment to be given. But medical professionals know that addiction is a very serious disease, one that requires “treatment, compassion, and support” (Siegel). Euphoria attempts to destigmatize and humanize addiction. The legal system should not be punishing people who have abused drugs by putting them into a jail cell where they are isolated from society, instead these people need real help through rehab and various treatments. Due to the fact that Rue had several relapses once she completed her rehab program, one may say that these programs do not work; however there is no singular timeline to get better. It may take weeks, months, or years, and the journey is difficult. But society cannot give up. Social and political reforms concerning drug use/abuse and addiction is very much needed. 

EPISODE THREE REVIEW

In ' Made You Look,' Nate meets Jules on a gay dating app disguised as Shyguy118. Although Nate doesn't identify as gay, Jules reveals being transexual and quickly falls in love with Shyguy118, oblivious to his true identity as a classmate at the same school. Maddy becomes skeptical of Nate and searches through his phone and, in shock, learns of Nate's involvement with a gay dating app and nude sending with Jules. Jules's heightened obsession over the mysterious Shyguy118 leads Jules to agree to meet Nate for the first time in person near a lake at night. While all of this unfolds, Rue, who is Jules's supportive best friend, at first, entertains Jules's fantasies by helping Jules send pornographic images to Nate. However, tension arises when Rue exposes her worries for her best friend and undeniable attraction for her as more than just friends. Unfortunately, Jules did not reciprocate the kiss they shared. This sent Rue spiraling into a frenzy and falling back into the addictive habit of taking pills and getting high, undoing Rue's 60-day clean streak. Embarrassed, Rue runs straight back to Fezco, her drug dealer, in hopes to illegally obtain more drugs to numb the humiliation she felt. Fortunately, Fezco doesn't give in to Rue and shuts the door on her, leaving Rue to look toward Ali, an omniscient man she met at a therapy gathering for drug users to seek guidance.

Kat, a Tumblr fanfiction queen, masks herself while exploring her curiosity for explicit content and webcam streaming. She exposes herself to lingerie and twerking on her account; she agrees to perform a private camera meet with a man who falls in love with Kat's powerful and sexual dominatrix persona. Originally insecure with her weight, Kat eventually learns to embrace her curves and dives into a new and unusual world of femdom. This episode also introduces Cassie. She displays as a bold, open-minded party girl that isn't phased by frat party endeavors. McKay, Cassie's crush, invites her to his frat-hazing event, and they both fall deeply in love with each other, foreshadowing potential problems to come from concupiscence for one another.

This episode involves various races but is primarily white-dominant. Cassie is blonde and white, represented as audacious and open-minded. Maddy is a cis-gender Latina and, in this episode, victimized by Nate, a white playboy who cheats on Maddy. Rue and her sister are a mix from a black mom and a white dad. Despite various races represented, this episode minimally illustrates heritage background and racial and cultural distinctiveness. There are very minimal cultural representations and race diversity besides the racially represented individuals such as Rue, Maddy, Kat, Ali, and Fezco. Although the film is predominantly white race influenced, there is still a general race narration awareness displayed in the show.  

Sexuality representation is a flourishing topic within each episode in Euphoria. Arguably one of the most influential characters in this episode, Rue, a lesbian half black teenager, finds herself falling in love with her openly transgender best friend. This tricky love triangle is demonstrated between Rue caring for Jules while she cares for Nate. Jules is head over heels for her classmate, Nate, who hasn't announced is gay but is chatting with Jules on a gay dating site. Moreover, Nate's girlfriend in this episode, Maddy, is only now beginning to question if Nate is straight like he demands he is.This episode centers around redirecting the audience's view of how a character's sexuality is initially perceived to how each character's sexuality is either nonchanging or questioned and altered due to more self-awareness. For example, Jules, from the beginning, identified as transgender and unchanging while Rue begins to question her sexuality and feelings for her friend after kissing her. Male, female, and non-binary characters speak and act quite differently in Euphoria. Male actors such as Nate, Ali, and Fezco are very much dominant and slightly manipulative in this episode. Nate is a controlling and manipulative character fueled by curiosity and confusion. Ali is a mysterious, omniscient figure who sees past Rue's addiction. Lastly, Fezco shuts Rue out when she almost dies from the drugs he gave her. The females include Maddy, Rue, Jules, Kat, and Cassie. Non-binary characters were not present in this episode; however, Nate being on a gay dating site and taking an interest in Jules knowing her being transgender urges the question of what Nate's sexuality may be. 

Cassie, in this episode, played an essential role in breaking gender profiling stereotypes. When Cassie was at the weekend frat-hazing party with McKay, she stood up to the guys at the party and took a shot of water with a live goldfish in it without hesitation, while McKay was hesitant and wanted to reject the challenge. Cassie taking that shot was significant because she didn't abide by her gender role limitations. Instead, she proved that she could equally compete alongside the frat boys at the party.

Illegal drug use for underage teenagers is very much a political issue. The creator of Euphoria, Sam Levinson, opens up about his struggles with addiction growing up. He talks about how his personal history of drug use as a teenager animated Rue's similar struggles in Euphoria. It's essential to recognize that Rue was not using drugs because of peer pressure but because she was struggling with "obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD), attention deficit disorder (ADD), general anxiety disorder, and even bipolar disorder" (Health, 2020). Many teens go undiagnosed with disorders like these and spend their teenage years fighting addiction and going to rehab centers, sometimes more than once in hopes of ending the addiction. There are other situations where undiagnosed individuals who don't fall victim to drug addiction still live a life of struggle with their mental illness. Euphoria sheds light on addiction and mental health and de-stigmatizes mental illness, a topic that should be further normalized and empathized with. 

EPISODE SEVEN REVIEW

“The Trials and Tribulations of Trying to Pee While Depressed” tackles a lot of issues. In many ways, this episode is openly candid about the hardships of life and the modern influences of distraction and avoidance. The candor of this episode is heartbreaking, revelating, and so, so real. The episode before the season finale follows multiple characters, including Jules, a trans woman battling confusion about her relationship with her best friend and her changing life; Cassie, a beautiful blonde teenager facing an unplanned pregnancy; and Rue, a drug addicted teenager battling a major low in her depression (Levinson 2019). This episode follows many differing plots that do not intersect in its time; however, at the root of the 59 minutes is the juxtaposition of two teenagers, the structures of family, and the deconstruction of femininity. 

As a whole, this show is unapologetically divergent from the stereotypes of society. It does not hesitate to tackle hard issues, easily addresses controversial issues regarding race, sexuality, and gender, without negating their seriousness. It makes normal the darkness we all battle in our private lives, especially in this episode. In it, characters from all walks of life get a say in the plot. Not only is the narrator and main character a gay Black women in love with her best friend, we also follow the story of Jules, a trans women, and hear from Cassie, a straight cisgender blonde girl who falls victim to the confines of the patriarchy, allowing herself to be sexualized and invalidated as a possession by the men in her life (Johnson, 2014). My only criticisms regarding this episode’s diversity is that there is little male influence or perspective on the storyline, and further, that there is little diversity outside of “black and white.” That is to say, while there are many Black characters given voice to this episode (and, by default many white characters as well), there is little representation of other ethnicities. We do not hear, for example, from the perspective of an Asian-American. That, to some extent, is an area that can be improved as the show continues. 

Earlier I mentioned the juxtaposition at the core of this episode, and I want to dive a little deeper into that. Cassie and Rue are, in many regards, polar opposites. Rue is Black, gay, struggles with drug addiction and is a social outcast. Cassie, in comparison, is blonde and blue eyed, gorgeous, and popular. Rue is an older sister; Cassie is the younger in her family. But this juxtaposition highlights the conditions of the patriarchy that define familial dynamics, such as sisterhood and motherhood, both amplifying and deconstructing those norms. For example, at the end of the episode, Rue and Cassie both go to their moms, the caretakers, for help when they reach rock bottom. Those mothers show up, and they do their job: care. However, at the same time, these mothers have taken up the role of being the breadwinner for the family as well, defying the stereotype of reliance on the male for prosperity and survival. Rue’s mom, however, is portrayed as more successful and put-together than Cassie’s mother, whom we see to be an alcoholic and basically a hot mess. This is contrary to racial stereotypes that typically portray the black community as one falling apart and the white suburban mom as picture-perfect. The gender and racial norms that society and time have produced throughout our history in America are blurred as these two realities are expressed in this show (Scott, 1986).

This episode also attacks femininity. Speaking with her friends from the city, Jules, says, “In my head, it’s like if I can conquer men, I can conquer femininity” (Levinson, 2019). This conquering, or, as Jules later says, obliteration of femininity is addressed throughout the episode. Cassie, conforming to societal expectations, allows herself to be objectified and sexualized by all the men in her life, using that perception of beauty to define her over the course of her life. Rue, on the other hand, does not conform to femininity at all, as we see in the way she dresses, and even the persona of the masculine “detective” she took on in a manic state. These three approaches to femininity contrast each other, as each one represents a different sector of diversity: race, sexuality, and gender identity. 

Euphoria is inherently political. It brings to light the reasons why the personal is political, especially in the midst of an election cycle where the rights of those who don’t conform to societal norms are under threat. This show creates an avenue for those rights and the real people behind those laws to speak and tell their own stories. Not only that, it represents mental illness and drug abuse, revealing the realities of living with these issues and bringing to light the struggles of the individual and their community through addiction and mental health crises. The show helps create empathy; empathy creates connection.  And connection, more than anything else, is something we deeply need right now. 

CITATIONS

Euphoria creator Sam Levinson on his controversial show: 'I hope it opens up a dialogue' [Interview by T. Stack]. (2019, June 16). Entertainment Weekly. Retrieved 2020, from https://ew.com/tv/2019/06/16/euphoria-creator-sam-levinson/.

Health, A. (2020). How HBO’s ‘Euphoria’ Depicts Teenage Drug Addiction Accurately. Retrieved 14 November 2020, from https://amhealth.com/2019/09/25/how-hbos-euphoria-depicts-teenage-drug-addiction-accurately/

Johnson, A. G. (2020). Patriarchy, the System: An It, Not a He, a Them, or an Us. In 1046495481 799935172 G. Kirk & 1046495482 799935172 M. Okazawa-Rey (Authors), Gendered Lives: Intersectional Perspectives (Seventh ed., pp. 62-70). New York, New York: Oxford University Press. (The Gender Knot: Unraveling Our Patriarchal Legacy, (2014))

Levinson, S. (Writer). (2019). Euphoria [Television series]. HBO.

Levinson, S. (Writer). (2019, June 23). Stuntin’ Like My Daddy [Television series episode] In Euphoria. HBO.

Levinson, S. (Writer). (2019, July 28). The Trials and Tribulations of Trying to Pee While Depressed [Television series episode]. In Euphoria. HBO.

Scott, J. (1986). Gender: A Useful Category of Historical Analysis. The American Historical Review. doi:10.1086/ahr/91.5.1053

Siegel, Z. (2019, August 06). Euphoria Doesn't Have a Drug Problem. Retrieved November 12, 2020, from https://www.vulture.com/2019/08/euphoria-hbo-drug-addiction-overdose.html

[yikesharringrove]

hello!! i was just wondering if there is anything like au’s, kinks etc. that you really don’t vibe with so that myself or anyone else won’t make you uncomfortable by asking you to write about it. much love 💕

Honestly, there’s not a lot I WON’T write. Even if it’s not something I’m into as a human (like kinks and stuff) I’ll still write it, even if it icks me out a little. honestly, my hard lines are like hard lines.

I also want to say who I’ll write. I’m a Harringrove blog, first and fucking FOREMOST, but I love Stommy, Keg Boys, and Buckleway, and would be down as hell to write Stonathan and Stoncy. ( I LOVE Jonathan, but I have trouble writing Nancy. Just can’t find her voice really.)

I’ll put them under the cut bc I’m gonna talk about stuff people may want to avoid, plus she’s LONG

So, I WILL NOT write incest. That includes Billy/Max bc in my brain and how I like to write them is as brother and sister, that they’ve fixed their relationship, so yes. Which leads me to...

I won’t write for any of the kids in a sexual context. Most of the actors are minors, are that makes me feel yucky to think about writing these characters that way. When I’m writing a sex scene between Billy and Steve, in the show, yeah they are teens and that IS underage, but you’re thinking of characters played by ADULTS. Joe Keery is like, almost thirty. He’s a GROWN MAN. That’s why I won’t write the kids like that. This includes writing kid/teen like Billy/Max of Steve/Dustin and aged up, because it just makes me feel weird picturing these real life CHILDREN somehow aged up in sexual situations.

As far as content, I’m okay with most things, including triggering topics. I try my best to give proper tags and warnings, and if it’s something I DON’T have experience with, I do A LOT of research for my fics. I’ve also gone through some serious shit and use writing as an outlet for it, so I don’t mind writing heavy topics. Things that trigger me specifically, are like super weird things (ex: the song Dancing Queen. Yeah. I fucking know. Used to love that song and now I can’t fucking listen to it) so I have the emotional energy to write pretty dark stuff.

I hate Karen Wheeler and fully refuse to write Karen/Billy (outside of like, Karen hit on Billy and it was grsss!) that’s BIG YIKES to me and their scenes made me v uncomfy. I don’t think I could write Billy/Hopper or Steve/Hopper either, they need him as a father, not a daddy.

I won’t write Harringrove as abusive. These two mean the WORLD to me, and tbh they’ve both dealt with enough abuse. Sometimes I’ll see dark fics where one of them is going through something and becomes abusive towards the other in some way, and that’s just not my jam in a pretty big way. I love fluff and softness for these two because they deserve it, and that’s what I write. Most of my angst has happy endings too.

As far as kinks, that’s my hardest line. Like I said, most shit I will write. There’s a lot of kinks I don’t know much about, or would never be interested in trying myself, but I don’t mind researching it to write it. How I actually write kink is to find articles written by people who participate in and enjoy that kink so I can get more of an understanding of it, what it feels like, and why they participate in it/enjoy it, and then usually watch some porn of it. (which is SO FUNNY bc I’m watching like, hardcore kinky porn squinting at the screen with my glasses on figuring out how I’m gonna write and describe stuff lmao) so most kinks I’m fine with putting in the hours. With a lot of kink stuff I feel as long as everyone participating in it is consenting and in a safe environment, then go right ahead! So I’m not weirded or grossed out by much.

HOWEVER. Kinks I won’t write: -Shit. Usually I’m pretty live and let live, scat play is GROSS. Straight up. Full offense meant. Kink shaming is intentional. -Age regression during sex. I’m okay with writing Daddy Kink, and I wouldn’t mind putting in more research to write age regression outside of sex, but I DO NOT want to write something where they are actively pretending one of the participants is a child. That feels kinda questionable to me. Along with this is diapers and things like that in any context. From research I HAVE put into daddy kink, it’s not about actually pretending the dom is your father, it’s more about being taken care of. I am fine with all that, but to have the sub be pretending to be a child just makes something in me feel off when it is in a sexual context. Again, I’d be down to put in the research if you want to request someone who lives as a little or in a state of age regression and have the other person take care of them like a child. It would be pure fluff. I just wanted to make that VERY clear. -Blood in kissing. You’ll see in a lot of Harringrove when Billy has a split lip and they kiss Steve can taste the blood or something, that makes me feel REAL ick. HOWEVER, I’m a big dumb slut for vampires, and am good to write that, or gore, or even some murder boyfriends, it’s just when someone gets blood that’s not there’s in their mouth that’s pretty yikes for me. -Petplay is fine but I don’t want like, actually anthropomorphic

Honestly, I think that’s like, it? I was seriously thinking of kinks that like, personally I would NEVER want to try but like, I would write them. I don’t care. \

One thing you may or may not have noticed is that I don’t use the F-slur. I spent a lot of my life dealing with a lot of internalized homophobia. I identify as queer, (I always write Steve how I feel, where I fall in love with people above being sexually attracted to just like, a gender as a whole and personally, I can’t have sex without emotional intimacy, but that’s more of a trauma thing) I come from a really conservative place and struggled a lot with my sexuality and thought because I do like guys and have feelings for guys, I’m just straight and pushed down all of my other feelings for people of other genders away. It was actually really recently, after I went to college in a liberal city and met all different kinds of queer people I realized that 1. I have had feelings for LOTS of different people throughout my life (I was deeply in love with my best friend in high school in a SUPER gay way and just kept pretending I wasn’t lol) and 2. I don’t have to label myself if I don’t feel comfortable with that. So I call myself queer. Because I considered myself straight, literally until I was like, nineteen, I always thought of the F-slur as the same way I do the N-slur. I believe the word can be reclaimed by people in the groups it was used to dehumanize, but since I felt I WASN’T part of the LGBT+ community, I never used it. Even now that I have accepted that part of myself, the word just still feels very wrong for me to use. I don’t mind reading it, and it’s used really often in Harringrove fics bc Neil LITERALLY says it in canon, but I just can’t bring myself to type it out, so I just don’t. That’s a SUPER weird side note, but that’s why you may see in stuff I’ll skirt around Neil or Billy saying it.

So basically, I’m comfortable writing most things. Sometimes, requests may take longer because I NEED to put more thought into it, or more research or I want to get it right, for example the one I just posted with nb Steve and trans Billy, I did a lot of research and read a lot of things written by trans and nb people about their experiences and feelings, etc. as I’m a cis person and didn’t want it to be insensitive or fetishy or just straight up BAD. But I LOVE writing so FUCKING much, I will put in the time and do research to see your head canons and thoughts come to life.

One thing that takes me FOREVER is historical type prompts. I’m BAD at history, like remembering stuff in general, so while I LOVE to take prompts set in different time periods, please know it’ll take me a thousand years to fill.

If you read all this, thank you, and I’m sorry for going on weird tangents about stuff, I’m kinda weird and my brain doesn’t move in one direction lol. Please keep putting in requests and letting me into your ideas! I love it!

[moviediary]

She’s All That (1999)

Rich and popular makes a bet with his “friend”, whose personality is pretty much summed up by the fact that he has frosted tips, that he can turn any girl into the prom queen after getting dumped by his longtime girlfriend. 

Now don’t get me wrong, I love this movie, but every time I watch it I can’t help but be amazed at how absurd it is. I mean, cliché plot aside, every individual piece that makes up this 1 hour and 30 minute ode to the individual is completely insane. What universe does this take place in? What high school do they go to?

That being said, I really like the opening shots to this movie, it definitely gives you a good introduction to the main character. Laney Boggs. She’s political and messy and 100% down to her bones an art student. She isn’t afraid to be dark.

In contrast I feel like the first meeting of the main love interest really doesn’t set him up to be who the writers want you to think he is. I mean he rolls up to school in a bright yellow Jeep with a Mr. Prez vanity plate. Then you see his shoes when he gets out of the car, fuckin’ ugly ass leather loafers. I’m sorry I know this means nothing I just have a hard time believing this jock wears these fucking shoes they’re so god damn ugly.

Every moment that introduces him makes it seem like he should be the villain, he has pretty much no redeeming qualities that we can see besides his wit (barely) and good looks. I just don’t understand why we’re supposed to like him, this is Sixteen Candles all over again. Hot rich guy, is an asshole, for some reason I still root for and love him. How does that work? What makes these characters so grossly likable? I mean, his name is Zack. That alone raises a red flag for me. That’s a frat boy asshole name. Zacks are friends of Kyle that’s all I’m saying.

Once we get through his painfully douchey introduction we get introduced to Zack’s equally douchey friends frosted tips and Gus from psych. (don’t ask me what their actual names are it’s not important anyway, that is essentially their personalities) The first thing we hear is them talking about summer break and their vacations, further driving home how rich they are and how weird it is that adults write movies about teenagers having gratuitous amounts of sex with adults. Then Zach tries unsuccessfully to say something philosophical about them graduating soon (I have to keep reminding myself that he’s supposed to have like the 4th highest GPA in their class) They then meet the most 90s girls I have ever seen. Who I guess are supposed to be popular? One thing I do like is how diverse all the characters are, they don’t all look exactly the same which I feel tends to be a problem with high school movies.

So we finally meet the “popular girl” Taylor Vaughn, Zack’s girlfriend and she immediately breaks up with him (which honestly is probably a good idea anyway) and his “friends” fucking laugh at him which he really had coming. I mean. Look at his hair. 

This launches what is probably one of my favorite narrated flashback scenes of all time, not because the topic is particularly interesting but because I love the way they have Zach interrupt her inside of the flashback. It’s a very small addition that really gives the scene style. Also we see this hot girl start dating Shaggy??? Also one of the villains from the original Scream???( he only really plays one character.) Makes me laugh every time. Also makes me a little uncomfortable every time since she’s in high school and he’s who knows how old but whatever not important. This also leads to one of my favorite exchanges in the whole movie. 

Taylor wraps up her spring break story time with one of the rawest lines I've ever seen in a 90s movie (she really did that to him) and the director throws in a classic high school movie trope, everyone actually caring enough to stop and watch this exchange. And while I usually hate this kind of character worship, since this movie is already so bizarre and unrealistic it actually kinda fits

We then cut to Laney’s art class which includes her teacher that for some reason thinks her art isn’t personal enough and two clown obsessed Lydia Deetz knock offs. I have to say I do love this part where the art students literally suggest that she kill herself in order to have her art recognized. Very realistic conversation between art students. 

That whole scene is really funny though because it doesn’t feel like it belongs in this movie. Even the music doesn't fit which is only emphasized by the sudden bell ringing transition back into a stereotypical high school movie. It reminds me of movies like the craft, the way it’s cut together, the way the characters talk, how Laney just stares straight ahead after not saying anything. It seems like she could have chosen a completely different movie to be in. Like if the movie was a chose your own adventure, she could have been in a different genre entirely and the movie would have been about her and those girls faking her death to get recognition and make money from her paintings. which would have been sick. but that isn't the movie I’m watching. Which I’m reminded of when fucking Zack comes back on screen.

Also right before the scene where the actual bet is introduced we meet the school’s resident DJ??? which isn’t important at all but is so strange that I feel the need to point it out. Like they don’t just have a guy who does the announcements they have like a disc jockey who is just there all the time??? There are just so many little things in this movie that make it so weird.

So fucking Brock pukashells pulls up and Zach just flips. Which is understandable it is a very gross moment but he just fucking goes off about Taylor and how she’s not that great and he could get with any girl in the school. His friends point out that bitch boy forgot that Taylor Vaughn is “an institution” and basically Zach with tits. She’s very important. This is something I never get about movies like this, has anyone actually been to a high school where someone was that well known. But also not liked? Like sure she’s hot, but she’s also a grade A bitch to everyone. and according to Zach nothing more than a C minus GPA in a Wonderbra. 

Once you get through the misogyny plus ultra scene and they finally make the bet, frosted tips has picked the girl Zach has to turn into the prom queen. Scary inaccessible Laney Boggs. He’s got 6 weeks to make her popular. He starts off his first exchange with her in the best way possible. By calling her brother Spaz (as his name). Again, we’re supposed to like this guy I think. I don’t know when he’s supposed to become a likable character but I can’t imagine it’s during all these scenes where he just legit insults people.

I also love all of the clips we get to see from Brock’s time on The Real World Which make me really question why all the girls fan girl over him given that he’s actually the worst, even on the show. We also get introduced to Zack’s sister who probably should have been a lesbian given how queer coded her character is besides the fact that she desperately wants a boyfriend. She even goes to an all girls school it would have been perfect. But alas, this movie is gay-less.

We are then introduced to another b-plot in this movie, Zack’s indecision about college. This was I guess to make him more human? or something? To sort of flesh him out and give him problems but honestly he doesn't have any problems. Later in the movie Laney points this out to him, he can do whatever he wants. This whole college thing is resolved fairly quickly later in the film too, it’s not very important it’s just the only thing we see about Zack besides being a perfect high schooler throughout the whole movie. Well that and his terrible performance art and being an asshole. 

After we see that Zack has been accepted by every Ivy League school and their mother (I’m not jealous I swear) we take a brief Taylor being a bitch detour before getting back to Zack making an ass of himself. This time he’s bothering Laney at her job which is awesome we love that. Again I don’t know why we like this guy he does like 3 nice things the whole movie. Anyway she gets defensive like she always does and he fumbles around trying to talk like he’s a normal person and not a walking cliché and then there’s this really strange exchange where he tries to asked her for help in art classes and she says “you don’t take art” and he’s like “how do you know?” and she’s like “Why haven't I seen you in any of my classes?” and like, I get what they were going for but what kind of high school is this? how does she have time to take more than one art class? How is she already an art major before she’s in college that’s not how high school works. I only ever had one school where I could take more than two extra curriculars and that was in middle school and it was only because they fucked up and put me in four hours of study hall and so I just went to all of the art classes that were offered. But that’s different. And am I way over analyzing this movie? yes. Does anyone but me care about this shit? probably not, but I’m gonna talk about it anyway.

I also really like Laney’s best friend who’s kind of just there, all the time, he’s such a good wing man. He also made the best excuse to get out of seeing that weird ass art show she’s in. He’s like, oh good I don’t have to see another Mitch show. He’s probably in his underwear in all of them, I wouldn’t want to go either. I think it really says something about the performance art world though, because this is probably the most believable part of the whole movie. If someone told me that his is just an actual performance art piece that they used in this movie I would absolutely believe them. Also one of the weird gremlins in this piece says what is probably my favorite quote ever which is “my soul is an island, my car is a Ford” like what the fuck is that I love that so much.

I really want to know how they came up with this shit, it’s so perfect. It also is another one of these parts in the movie that doesn’t really add anything. A lot of the movie is like this, I feel like 90% of this movie is weird filler scenes and the rest in plot. Like it’s so obvious how it’s going to end that you barely even need to watch most of the movie, and even when you do watch most of the movie it always kind of feels like it only half has something to do with the plot. I’m not even going to talk about the weird hacky Sack scene, I can’t handle how embarrassing and cringey it is I pretty much always skip through it. What a dick move of Laney’s to even put him in that situation. The whole “your eyes are really beautiful” scene is also really strange, both his lines and her reaction don’t really make sense. Through most of this movie when they actually talk to each other I feel like they don’t have any chemistry. It’s the same when he subtly blackmails her into going to the beach with him. He’s awkward and barely says anything that prompts a response and then she just goes full WOKE EMO on him and like, they really do have nothing in common I do not understand their relationship. And then his friends show up and he’s like, “If we’re gonna be friends we’ll have to deal with them eventually” which like, 1: wow get some friends you actually like maybe? And 2: how are you guys friends, you’ve barely ever managed to exchange civil words on screen. Actually maybe that makes sense, this is why he thinks this is okay (besides the whole bet thing) maybe he doesn’t realize he’s supposed to actually like his friends and girlfriend. Because it really seems like he doesn’t like any of them, which I get. Except for Gus (not his name but whatever) because that guy’s actually pretty funny and spends the whole movie calling frosted tips out whenever he sounds too much like Kenny from Can’t Hardly Wait.

The whole beach scene is kinda take it or leave it too, there are a lot of moments where we see Laney hang out with Zack and other people but honestly through the whole movie there really isn’t a whole lot of growth. We don’t actually really see them bond or talk, we’re supposed to believe their relationship is growing but I guess that must be happening off screen because I don’t see it.

One of my favorite parts is when Zack forces the JV soccer team to clean Laney’s house, the kid answering the jeopardy question and her dad just realizing they were there. Oh man, gets me every time. The makeover scene is also pretty cute, I always love those. Also the whole “new, not improved, but different Laney Boggs” thing is adorable and I appreciate it.

The evolving of the characters and their relationships don’t happen gradually, what little is actually shown is pretty much in like 3 parts, the opening, the party scene, and the end. The characters are very flat for most of the movie and they have very little personality, but the party scene is very fun to watch. From “Gracias, papi!” to Laney turning Misty into a clown, and then the Give it to Me dance sequence. And even though the characters haven’t really given me a good reason to care about them my heart still hurts a little for Laney when Taylor ruins her dress. That’s the thing about this movie, I shouldn’t care, I shouldn’t like these characters, but I still do, and I have no idea why.

The Brock dumping Taylor thing was great, the parallel was expected but I actually think it added to the story. In fact most of the things after the party actually feel necessary to the movie which is nice. Even the soccer practice actually leads to something. I don’t know what it is about the 2nd quarter of this movie that feels so empty but whatever it is it’s enough that I saw a noticeable difference when I got to the third act of this movie.

It’s a small part but I also really love the alternative clubs that make signs in favor of Laney for prom queen. They’re just so fucking funny to me. I mean, Hygiene club? Prisoners club??? What?

Then they pull another fast feelings thing on me again. They throw the mom painting scene at me and like, wow that’s sad. Then Zack tries to garner sympathy for the problems that he makes for himself. Then boom they flip on me again they’re cute and I like them. Then she says that weird thing about prom and he just dips man. And like, Why do they gotta do me like that? I cannot seem to decide if I like these characters or not it’s so weird how this dialogue is written.

And then the dream happens? Definitely one of the best scenes in the whole movie. So fucking perfect. It really just adds to the weird slight surrealness of this whole movie.

Then we go back to the school and suddenly everyone is dressing like Laney? In support I guess? Again can I just ask what fucking school they go to? And then there’s the beat boxing scene? Where they rap about who’s gonna be prom queen? I’ve never even met anybody that invested in the outcome of who’s gonna be prom queen except for those running. I don’t even think I know anybody who voted. Even so, I do love the beat box scene, they really spit some bars.

Also I just noticed that in that super fucked cafeteria scene, you can see Buffy make a cameo? Just a fun little trivia fact. But seriously that cafeteria scene is fucked. Like, the pubes on the pizza? I wish no one had thought of that ever. Also can I just say I would undoubtedly rather get my ass kicked than be forced to eat pubes. I don’t know what they were thinking that isn’t even a question.

It’s also really uncomfortable how good frosted tips is at acting like he’s not a douchebag. What a creep. If that were a real guy I’d be tempted to call him a sociopath. So gross. But I suppose it’s good for the story line.

The end of the movie wraps up pretty fast honestly. Zack’s dad and him finally communicate which fixes Zack’s only problem immediately because that’s just how easy it is. He was just projecting the whole time, his dad had literally no problems other than being a typical rich dad. Then of course we get another moment with the school DJ who I guess just gets to play and say what ever he wants whenever he wants. Am I the only one who thinks it’s really inappropriate how sexual that guy’s announcements about prom are? Maybe it’s just me and I had a really different high school experience but I feel like people are way too focused on sex when they make movies about high school. Other shit was going on you know? It’s just odd for me to think about grown adults writing and pitching this movie.

Zack really is such a bitch boy though, he doesn’t even try to explain anything to her, just lets her get hurt and lets Taylor be a bitch to her without saying anything. He doesn’t even try to tell her that frosted tips was just as much a part of it as he was. Honestly I kind of wish that frosted tips wasn’t such an asshole his whole heart to heart with her at the door before prom could have been really cute if I didn’t already know he was a lying scumbag. But I guess Laney just gets the lesser of the douchebags.

We finally get to the prom, inarguably the best part of the whole movie, all the little bits and pieces. The sex doll guy is always funny as hell. The DJ being the school DJ works really well brings a lot of closure to that whole weirdness. Also that dance scene is fucking great, has absolutely nothing to do with the plot, which actually works since about 40% of the things in this movie have nothing to do with the plot of this movie. I absolutely unironically tried to learn this dance, man I fucking wish prom was actually like this. I don’t know about you guys but for me, both of my proms were not nearly this theatrical. I spent my first one playing black jack the whole time and my senior prom was full of people that were way too white to dance. Anyway, Laney doesn’t win and she leaves early. Zack gives a pretty boring speech. Taylor goes off on everyone. Frosted tips tries to get Laney in bed and everyone gets upset.

The whole thing ends with Laney coming home to find Zach waiting for her to make sure she’s okay, which is sweet and all but like I can’t help wondering how long he had just been standing there waiting. Especially since it seemed like her dad was just ignoring him. That’s just a funny image to me. Anyway, they dance in the backyard. They kiss. It’s cute. Zack loses the bet so he accepts his diploma naked which I’m pretty sure is indecent public exposure but sure.

Overall it’s a very cute movie. The clichés are sort of made up for by all the weird 90s movie things. Plus it has a pretty great soundtrack. I know I sort of really went in on this movie but to be honest I really enjoy watching it. I’m not sure why. It’s pretty bad when you think about it any deeper than surface level. But it’s also just really fun and the characters are weird and there’s too many duffel bags to be normal and it’s just funny. It’s really weirdly funny. And it has that same non-conclusion that a lot of teen rom-coms have where they just can’t really give you all that much and just make sure they’re happy even if you know there is no way they can continue a relationship outside of high school. It may sound like it, but I’m not mad at it. If you haven’t already I’d say watch it. Watch it as a relaxing mindless good time activity. At the very least you won’t be bored, but if you get sympathy embarrassment like I do then maybe skip a few parts.

As of right now this movie is not available for free on any streaming sites (yes I own it on DVD don’t @ me)

Final Verdict:

Actual movie review: 6/10

How fun is it to watch?: 8/10