#but has no idea and maybe feels a repulsion at the same time bc of his connection to eyda

[fatelcved]

OH I JUST OH!!! so i wanted to make my lil guy related to rin bc why not!! expand on the clan of elves she comes from!! buuuut maybe he's not from her clan but rather : ) her brother : ) and this is where it might get a lil confusing asdf bc her brother is dead, but reincarnation is a thing in dorverold, so!! rory/ciaran would be his reincarnation -- his face and body are different, but his soul is the same. and if i run with the idea that eyda makes a deal with rory/ciaran : ) then wouldn't that be a neat lil idea considering that sunna chose rin as her champion : ) might be some set up for some tragic stuff in there huh : )

[sugar-omi]

been thinking about mc and cove who broke up after step 3 (prolly bc mc moved out of state) and they're finally meeting back up in person during step4 and its like "holy shit i still like you"

thoughts?

you're making my heart ACHE. but i do have a response for you now even if it's a bit lame LOL

yknow how in step 4, where if you play through step 1-3 on indifferent or fond, and switch to crush at step 4 and cove breaks down n confesses to you on your way back to your moms house from the beach

or even if you confess/kiss him in the car!

but he says something like, you used to just be a neighbor or his best friend and suddenly those feelings changed and he didn't know what to do...

I think he'd feel the same now.

he's loved you so deeply most his life, it kills him when you decide to break up because you're moving out of state and can't see the relationship holding up.

kills him even more if you're dating or mention someone asking you out during those 5 years between step 3 n 4.

he couldn't just stop loving you, and even so. there's not really anyone else for him. you're his soulmate. or well.. was.

and even if you and cove have minimal contact during those 5 years, I think he's still just as obsessed with you as the day you left. his feelings are the same as before you broke up with him, under the wound of his broken heart that is

when he sees you again, he feels that same feeling from when he saw you on poppy hill for the first time. feels like his world is changing again, like some storm is going to swoop him up and take him away.

you've always had that power over him. you keep, kept.. his mind and heart racing, itching for every new day ahead of him if it meant you would be at the end of it.

doesn't matter if you're shy or not adventurous, you just gave him such a zest for life, and you made the days seem brighter. happier. you made him happy

can't help but be a bit of a fumbling fool when he sees you again. awkwardly says hi, stumbling over words and trying to make eye contact but somehow you've gotten more attractive. which.. makes sense, you're not teens anymore, puberty and growth spurts are over. but fuck did his chest always feel like this?

if you've gotten more confident, no matter how much or how little, he's in awe of you. and when you talk about what you've been up to, he's so proud of you and happy for you. tries to ignore the aches in his chest, wishing he was there with you during all this.

of course, before I forget, cove isn't just a lovesick fool. really. he's bitter about the breakup, because it's just a state.. and he'd be so happy to follow you, just not right now. maybe in a year, or less, no more than 2! so why couldn't you have tried it out, and if you crashed and burned then fine, but at least you did it.

and the negative part of him, that you saw at the end of step 3, tells him he knew it wouldn't last. that the second one or both of you stepped away from this town, your relationship would unravel.

always tries to ignore it. and when he's more reasonable, and he's brave enough to think so, he thinks that it was good you two broke up because you might not be where you are. again, the negative part tells him you could've done all that with him by your side, and vice versa.

he'd be really awkward for awhile. I think it'd take another year or two for him to open up to the idea of dating you again.

you changed. he changed. you're not stumbling teens, finding you way through the new world of adulthood and figuring out who you are. you're 25 and older, you've done a lot of growing in that time in many ways.

there's new things about you he likes, and old things he still likes. but of course there's still old things he doesn't like, maybe even new things he doesn't like about you.

not that your new/old habits are enough to repulse him, everyone has their quirks and such. he's sure you've found the same in him.

and then your lifestyle... if you're to date again, you two have to find your way to fit into each other's lifestyles.

you've developed new hobbies, started jobs that take more or less attention and effort, you have animals, etc.

your lives have been built around yourselves. will he still fit into yours?

when you finally do confess, or he to you, he still says stuff similar to the base game, like I mentioned.

he was so upset when you broke up with him, and he admits he was bitter at times, that he couldn't help but think that why couldn't you just do all that stuff as his partner still, and waited for him to follow you. that, what was so important you had to be single?

but then he thinks about himself, your reasoning, and he understands that maybe it was the best for him. or what you thought was the best anyway. and that, maybe he wouldn't be on certain spots if it wasn't for how things went.

but he still wishes he had spent all these years as your boyfriend still, that he never had to wake up and see the other side of his bed empty.

never had to see your last text was days. months.. maybe even years ago.

but goes on about how when he saw you again, he couldn't help but love you just like before. maybe even more than back then. that he admires who you are now, and finds so much love and admiration in adult you's new traits and hobbies and such.

if you wait for him to confess, he'd go on to say that he understands if you're not attracted to him anymore, he just has to tell you.

I think if you broke up with him, especially in step 3, cove would end up cold. becomes a bit like his step 1 self, just.. well with the angst but with the ability to deal with it.

he thinks he's become even lamer than when he was younger, even if he was reserved (cold) back then too. but the breakup really just refines him earlier, than if you waited another 15-20 years.

I suppose you could say, that if you went the breakup route, he's be smart and 'cold'

is very happy that you wanna try again. treats it like you've never dated before, which technically, you haven't. he may of learned your new quirks and habits as an adult, but he hasn't learned if you've changed as a partner, and the same is for him

tries to communicate with you if any problems arise, because even if he's more mature, he's still desperately, hopelessly in love with you and would hate to fail twice.

[rllybadfanfic]

I wanted to jot down some tips of ways to write asexual and aromantic characters, even if you never confirm their identity. It helps make your story more diverse and represent a wider variety of lived experiences.

First I'll start with the asexual that doesn't want to have sex. Ever. And they don't. If you write a character that says they don't want to have sex ever and isn't even open to the idea only to have them 180, this is something I personally find distasteful. If you want to have them start saying they don't want it but then change their mind, you need to put in a significant amount of work in the character's self discovery. If all you've done is say 'they met the right person' that's really fucked up and you can do better or don't call yourself an ally. No state of being is permanent, but in order for things we think are fundamental about ourselves to change, something has to actually change.

Your asexual character who doesn't have sex might pair up with another asexual, be part of an open relationship/polycule, have a partner who doesn't mind only getting themself off, or never end up in a life partnership. There are lots of options!

Next is the asexual that does have sex sometimes, maybe under specific circumstances such as to have children, or on special occasions, or maybe they like to have sex on occasion with a partner or partners bc they like how close it makes them feel. Not every asexual is sex repulsed, but some are neutral and could take it or leave it.

Another asexual character might have a lot of sex bc they like how it feels! Other characters might think they have sex indiscriminately bc attraction isn't involved. They might have casual sex with friends bc it's a fun thing to do with people you like. You might not know this character is asexual from the outside looking in, but the author's knowledge informs the story and the character's behavior.

Some asexual characters might not even masturbate while some might have many partners. The term asexual is a wide umbrella on purpose.

If you want to write someone on the ace spectrum I'd recommend looking into how real people feel about experience attraction rarely or for the first time. It's can feel really strange and the person might not necessarily know what they're experiencing at first. They might confuse it with aesthetic or sensual attraction.

Let's go to aromantic characters next! Starting with aromantic characters who don't want anything to do with romance. They might not even like stories involving it! Again, if they desire a life partner or partners they might look for someone who is aromantic, or doesn't mind not being romantic, or be in an open relationship/polycule, etc.

A romance neutral aromantic might not mind a partner who does romantic gestures or might even on occasion attempt romance themselves. Romance can be a fun nice thing to make someone you care about feel special, it doesn't have to mean the same thing to both people.

Another aromantic character might really like romance and the drama! Grand dramatic gestures can be super fun regardless of whether or not you feel that type of attraction. They might enjoy the banter of flirting.

Again, those who experience this kind of attraction rarely or for the first time might note it's foreign-ness to them or confuse it with intense platonic or mental atttaction.

There can be a lot of overlap in how these characters are written and you can mix and match different aspects with an aroace character. This is NOT an exhaustive list, that would be very long, but it can be a starting point.

Happy writing!

[dandelion-skies]

ADHD is weird bc like

“Im going to take away all of your emotional permanence! Your concept of emotions will be the same as that of a baby playing peekaboo”

So you work on it. Because it’s not fun living like that! I quite like the emotional permanence, than you very much. Knowing and remembering how I feel about things is in fact, quite important to me.

BUT I FORGOT THAT TECHNICALLY SPEAKING, ATTRACTION IS A FORM OF EMOTION TOO. Do you know how annoying that is?

Imagine you’re me. Closeted. Spent years trying to figure out what I exactly I am, and after some life events finally figured out their gender. Because gender is permanent, you live with it inside of you.

But sexual and romantic orientation? That’s a force outside of you! Something that only happens through interaction with certain people! Now I figured out years ago I was asexual, and this has been a mostly unwavering piece of knowledge since. But because I don’t have the experience of finding people I barely know physically attractive, I had nothing to remind me of what romance meant to me.

I’m still entirely unsure of how other people experience romance, but I suppose I’m demiromantic. I’ve had crushes before, though few and far between, and only on people I was already close to platonically. And now, with the digital age, I’m not seeing these friends frequently enough to solidify my emotions about them. Yes, talking online is great, if it’s continual and in depth, nothing that I do with any of my in person friends. So I go through the summer, not seeing my friends because they’re back at home now. Away from university, away from me. And I miss them, I know that. The memories with them feel nice!

But by the time summer has finished I’ve created somewhat… false ideas of them in my head. False ideas of myself, too. I think of them as being different to how they actually are. Not bad, just maybe emphasising some of their traits.

And as for me? Spending the summer at home, closeted, my brother calling me gay constantly to poke fun and me having to deny it because the last time I tried coming out it really didn’t go down so well- I almost convince myself that I’m straight! I think to myself, “well, I could probably learn to love a boy. Surely there’s things about it that I wouldn’t find so terrible.” I even choose a boy to try and like. I try and imagine dates, and romance, and even, just for the sake of testing it, naked.

I try and ignore the repulsion I feel as I push the girl I definitely DONT have a crush on to the back of my mind. She and I aren’t compatible anyway. We’re too different! Plus, I feel very strongly that I would like to share things I enjoy, like baking and video games and rollercoasters, and she doesn’t like baking or rollercoasters. It’s an illogical crush, so I should ignore it and choose a logical one.

So, fast forward, and I see both parties in person. The boy, whom I invite over to bake with me, play video games with, and talk about how much we both enjoyed rollercoasters at this particular theme park. My three uncompromisables, if you will.

(I recognise that they’re quite inane things to not compromise on, but they’re important to me!)

This boy is perfect! My family all think we’re going to profess undying love for each other and get married one day, but I say goodbye and I’m left with a nauseating feeling of recognition that there is an expectation with him that there will be romance. Even if not from him, from my family.

On the other hand, I see the girl. And she’s perfect. Every imperfection about her is perfect. Beautiful. I can’t take my eyes off her, and I just know she knows I’m staring. I try and joke about it, fake flirt! Apologise a bit for the fake flirting- but I’m still transfixed. I’m angry that we aren’t alone, that there are other people around us, and I just keep staring and staring and listening to her voice and watching the way she stands. Okay, maybe that sounds a tad bit creepy. And I’m trying not to be! And we shop for some food together, and she buys instant meals. And I ask her if she likes rollercoasters, and she tells me she’s terrified of them. It’s irrational to like her! I know that the relationship probably wouldn’t work out, so it’s not worth pursuing. But by god does it feel so different to boys! It feels electric and real and brilliant and emotional.

But most of all, I’m not left with that numb nausea, the confused pleading with myself after I try and like a boy. And then it’s all followed up by some sort of hyperfixation on my sexuality like I need to know all about it and make it me again before I forget.

Of course, this post is about ADHD and I did derail a bit, but can you really blame me? Consider the subject matter. And I’ll consider my audience too. I write too much.

The tl;dr is, adhd made me forget I was a lesbian. Pretty girl reminded me.

[wrongcaitlyn]

Hello! just wanted to say that i really don’t mean to make you uncomfortable at all with this ask since i know you’re sex repulsed ace but i swear i don’t mean it in that way. as in in the sex way. it’s more as in the overcoming religious trauma and being proud of ones sexuality way!

picture this : nico di angelo. he’s at the Grammys. he’s just released guilty as sin? and everyone’s going absolutely bonkers bannanas. he’s walking the little carpet (added detail he is wearing the dress taylor wore at the show announcing ttpd). he sees a reporter and smiles at them and there recording and being like “omg nico is love your new song aaaa!” and nico just deadpan stares at them as he slowly walks by and lifts up the slit in his dress just a tiny bit and boom tattoo that says mine. ON HIS UPPER THIGH?!? 😨😨😨😨 he sets his dress back down winks and walks away like nothing ever happened. the reporter ( a gen z) puts it on tiktok with the caption “NICO WTF?!” CROWD GOES WILLLDDDD PEOPLE ARE GOING INSANE NICO THAT NICO HAS A TATTOO AND ITS ESPECIALLY MINE ON HIS UPPER THIGH LIKE IN THE SONG WHEN DID HE GET THIS WHAT THE FUCK?!?!? and everyone assumes it’s just so sexual when in reality it’s sexual in the way that the guilty as sin bridge is sexual. yes it’s based around sexuality but more the acceptance that he is allowed to feel those feelings towards someone especially another man. it’s a celebration of how far he’s come from that little scared christian boy who thought he was dirty and wrong to now and something that he can look down at and be happy from how far he’s come. (also nico had to train will for a few days so that his barely legible doctors handwriting at least looked nice enough to be readable) (also will made the haha so many couples break up after they get tattoos comment when nico was getting it and he was like “will if you ever even try to leave me the entire universe will be destroyed and that includes you” and he’s like “well i wouldn’t leave you anyways but remind me from time to time it’s funny.” “yeppers peppers” (also hc that nico says incredibly silly phrases cause he picked some of them up from will but some of them are his)

anyways sorry about this very specific scenario! you do not have to respond to this if you don’t want to since there isn’t much to say and i know you must be busy with a ton of asks haha. just wanted to share one of the scenes i imagine happening in tyt in the FARRR future! Might low key write a fic about it if i ever figure out how to write if that would be okay with you!

have a good day! :)

KSDJFSD NO BC ppl's reactions to his tattoos (though, tbf, they're mostly grief-related tattoos) has been something i've been thinking about for agesss and will probably include at some point.

so many little details in this that i LOVEEJSDF nico training will's doctor handwriting😭😭 i actually plan to add a tattoo at some point of will + all of the rest of nico's found family drawing stars and then having like a collection of them on his chest, which i will definitely be including at some point, and i can just imagine nico trying to teach will how to draw a star (he draws them like taylor swift's "stars, do u like dem" drawing)

but on to the main point: i absolutely love this idea! though i'm not planning on guilty as sin actually being a song that nico releases (unfortunately ://) he will 100% be making moves with his music that displays his growth as a person and his increased comfort with himself in all forms!!

the silly phrases hc is wonderful. CANON NOW. i also especially like nico also looking up like old-timey phrases and then just using them for no reason other than to confuse his friends

AND THE CIWYW NECKLACE!!!! will already has nico's ring on his necklace, but i think nico would 100% get either a necklace with a sun on it to represent will (maybe personalized to have the same design that he has as his tattoo) or his initials, or both. the ciwyw necklace will always be peak romance though <33

i would 100% support writing the fic!! go for it!! even if it may not be compliant with the.. idk if it's called the canon of this fic, but you get what i mean, i'd just love any kind of work related to the au, so definitely let me know if you ever end up writing it!!! thank you for this!

[gralunaisland]

I swear every time I see a loyal character say the name of the person they're loyal to too often, especially when they use an honorific, I get a juvia flashback. It's horrible bc one of my favourite character from another anime does it and I don't want to associate him with juvia !

How to Not Compare juvia to Your Favorite Characters

I so understand you, Anon, I feel the same way a lot of the time when I'm enjoying anime or manga, where I analyze the characters who act even minutely similar to juvia. It really does suck, and you have my condolences.

One example off the top of my head is Ainz and Albedo from the anime Overlord whose first season I just watched for the first time recently. Even though I like Albedo, one could say that Albedo acts extremely similarly to juvia, always using the honorific of "sama" for Ainz, always mad on his behalf, always prepared to sacrifice herself for him, frequently misinterpreting his words to mean something more romantic, fighting with Shalltear over his affections, trying to be by his side all the time etc.

However, I'm able to pretty much subdue my nagging idea of juvia by thinking carefully about the fundamental differences between Albedo and the blue-haired witch:

First, I understand that Albedo only acts this way because she was literally programmed by Ainz to be madly in love with him, so it is not of her own free will that she lusts after and sometimes bothers Ainz, unlike juvia. juvia has all the free will she needs, and yet still she decides to bother Gray and ignore his consent.

Second, it is her duty as the Head of the Guardians to address Ainz as "Ainz-sama". It's not her just arbitrarily and uncomfortably deciding to undeservingly give this immense honorific to him, literally all of Ainz's servants address him as such. He is a Supreme Being and thus created some of them, and he is therefore like a god to them. So, unlike juvia, Albedo has a reason to show so much reverence to Ainz.

Third, Albedo actually obeys Ainz's orders. Of course, it is also her duty as his servant, but even when she acts a little out of line, one word from Ainz has her subdued and apologetic. Contrast that with juvia who never apologizes for her behavior and never thinks that what she's doing is wrong. I'm not saying she should obey Gray like Albedo does, but she should listen to him, and yet she doesn't, making a big difference between them.

Fourth, it's shown that the only reason that Ainz isn't very infatuated with Albedo in return is because of his new undead form. There is literal magic that makes him calm at all times and quiets his emotions when he gets excited in one way or another. When he first gained his skeleton body, he got excited by Albedo, and even before then, he'd made her love him. So, it's pretty safe to say it's not Albedo's fault that Ainz doesn't love her, unlike juvia with Gray, because juvia's awful personality (or lack thereof without Gray) just makes her repulsive to him.

These are just a few differences.

Sorry for going into a tangent about Overlord, but that was all just to say maybe you could try doing the same thing, just taking a little time to list out why the character you like isn't really the same as juvia even if they look like they act like it on the surface. I hope this might help! I won't say it completely cures my mind about thinking about juvia, but it does help me enjoy the other characters regardless!

Anyway, so sorry to hear about your favorite character; I really hope you're able to blot juvia from your mind when you see him eventually! It just goes to show how juvia's toxic behavior oozes its way into people's enjoyment because of how hard it is to forget how terrible her actions are.

[darkgaia2]

my spark gender analysis

im projecting a lot of feelings onto him so BE NICEYS TO MEEE but to me shes very like. ftmtf. and so on. shes very flip floppy abt it all. its important to me that she essentially looks and stays the same bc i honestly dont think shed like. change her presentation at all after going Oh Maybe Im A Woman Also. i wouldnt say shes bigender to be jonest but also she could be. its just that like. gender changes very very slowly over time to where i dont think shed consider herself bigender at all. just like. i was once a woman and then a man and now im a woman again. lol wild. i think a lot of her feelings are very much like. influenced on like. so so this is getting into A LITTLE formie society analysis now but formie society does seem pretty Gender Roles Heavy. which like. i think spark going from woman -> male (good god the axiom verge soundtrack bangs SORRY) is like. a rejection of that being imposed on her for the time being. repulsed at the idea of being a girl in the way that society views women. and so very much later on she comes back to the idea of it and lets herself play with it and explore being a woman in a way thats entirely defined by her. which is really important! but i think this journey is also pretty.. rough on her bc like. spark does not read like someone that likes change . this is me looking at a character thats meant to be a very grounded and real character and taking that to a semi extreme and going If Fark Is All About Change And Growth Then Spark Is None Of That. so then the idea of like her having to change anything or even that she Does change as a person is like. kind of scary! its really hard!

which is another reason why honestly she just doesnt change anything abt how she presents herself. bc she doesnt. want to change anymore than she has? and also like. part of being a woman for her is exploring that in a very gnc way. so part of being a woman is being a man to her. ig this makes her bigender but also im like . eh. SHRUGS. its complicated and weird. her gender is extremely personal and private and shes very closed off but thats kind of just how she is and she does love being a woman while still being a man. i feel like im getting a little incoherent. whatever! but yeah :^) my thoughts. shes just very very private abt this part of her. im mainly using she/her for this for her bc like im just exploring a very private aspect of her. i think the only person thatd know abt any of this would be fark both bc 1) hes very very special and extremely trusted and 2) ok im gonna be honest i like to think this part is discovered via kink. so like . ill leave that there i think. but . yeah. MY THOTS!

[cephalotyrant]

Hii *invades ur inbox with an army of one aka me*

Do you think Azul and Riddle would have any conflicts due to suffering love languages? Actually, do you think they even have different love languages?

Idk there's just something about it to me raghhh

Azul is usually the more affectionate one. He's the one initiating kisses and displaying verbal affection bc Riddle didn't even receive affection from his mother on top of his lack of friends T_T

And Riddle probably would want to try and show affection through helping someone with their studied but he rarely if ever gets the opportunity to do that with Azul, can't take Azul out on dates bc Azul makes more than him (Riddle's wealthier by family name but I refuse to believe his mom doesn't financially abuse him just look at her)

And they're both so busy so that pretty much eliminates quality timee T_T

At the same time though, let's face it, Riddle is way more kind at heart than Azul, and Azul is veryyy insecure and is shown to also be quite irritable and short-tempered behind the gentlemanly facade

And in book 6 he's also so petty and is ultimately just completely fucking incapable of just communicating his feelings (SHOCKER: NIGHT RAVEN STUDENT IS EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED 😱😱😱) until he blows up at Riddle who had no clue how his actions were affecting Azul so I feel lile Azul would absolutely be that one mf where you ask thwm : "what's wrong?" And they're like "no... I'm fine..." (They were not in fact fine)

But anyways I feel like I'm talking about the angst too much for someone who loves fluffy shit more than anything T_T

Imagine Azul struggling with something for once and Riddle helping him (read: forcing him to accept a spare workbook Riddle had) and Azul is just constantly trying to repay him and Riddle's like "bitch you're my boyfriend????"

Thus concludes my invasion, I will sadly have to retreat for now 😞 will gladly invade again if I witness an opportunity so watch your back (inbox) :3

I don't remember receiving this... OK OK but. I love angst goodddd I love angst so so so much it fuels me. I constantly think about Riddle failing to escape his mother's expectations and becoming a shell of himself at some dead-end hospital jo--💥

I actually did cover this in like. One paragraph in PaP. I think Azul would have insecure bouts where he asks "What do you want from this relationship?" but of course. Riddle has no expectations on accout of having very little experience with healthy relationships... he doesn't know how to respond. So he says "I want you." but it's not the soft "ahahah you're perfect as you areee I love you <3" it's "I constantly want you under my vigilance where I can see you and bask in your presence at the very least." romantic if you're a blind man bordering concerning GET TO THERAPY, YOUNG MAN.

Azul is definitely clingy, but Riddle would discover he is, too. It's weird, but he likes it... Azul is warm, maybe I should hug him more? But also, something I sometimes want to write is the days where so much as saying a word or so much as brushing shoulder feels like sandpaper against their flesh, the very idea repulsive and their only desire is to-- who knows? curl up on the floor? Which leads to the other internally panicking and yearning and just not getting it. Azul might just pettily give Riddle the could shoulder after seeing him recoil from his touch because why? aren't they boyfriends? is he suddenly ashamed of being with Azul? Is that it?

Woops. Okay back to love languages! Azul... god. Physical touch, primarily. Maybe gift giving and acts of service (at a discount) On Riddle's behalf, definitely quality time. Physical touch depending on the day. Riddle's room is debabtbly the best room out of all the housewarden's because it has a freaking COUCH. Azul abuses the perks of the bed with curtains and the couch. Bam. Quality time (working on separate things/studying without even saying a word to each other... that's just parallel play bruh.)

Words of affirmation is tricky... because yes, Azul is used to using flattery, but it's normally empty and to gain favor. So its effect, even if well intentioned...

I never thought about the financial aspect... Azul definitely has spending money, while Riddle wouldn't probably have to draft a wholeass essay with bullet points on why he's pulling money from his account. Would he even tell his mother he's dating a boy from school for months? Or bite his tongue and buy his time to tell her in person instead of in the impersonal form of a letter, even though it makes him feel guilty, so wrong. But he fears the consequences-- he doesn't want to be separated from the people he cares about again, after all.

I still think they'd have a moment to themselves one day while they're studying and Azul suddenly goes. "They used to say I was a whiny brat after I tried to tell a teacher what they did to me." like HUH.? Sudden Azul lore???

[type-a-princess]

Okay! Here’s another AU you may like it better.

Everything you saw in Total Drama was absolutely staged. You have no idea how different some of the characters and characters interactions are behind the scenes.

-Gwen and Duncan hated each other.

-Trent is just an acquaintance of everyone and is the only person who doesn’t have conflict to anyone. He’s in an appointment to Katie who doesn’t hate Gwen and helps her to deal with Duncan.

-Heather is a nice girl pretending to be mean and she is best friends with Gwen, who helps her to get on Alejandro and Heather.

-Gwen has openly expressed her love and feelings to Courtney whom used to be straight until she broke up with Duncan.

-Geoff is more calm but still maintains the same energetic persona as he was in the show.

-Courtney’s parents still bad, but she wanted to spite on them by losing the competition in the perfect time, because she feels like being perfect is not always healthy for her. Also she pretends that she hates loosing to make it feel realistic.

-Feral Zeke doesn’t exist. He is just a CGI or practical effect character. The real Ezekiel never appeared in World Tour.

-Dj still has mommy issues but his mother never founds him a disappointment, she just pretend to feel like it.

- i actually wouldn't mind duncan and gwen being like close friends that fight a lot but i'd like the idea of them being absolutely REPULSED at the thought of dating each other

- this is real i rlly don't think trent would be on bad terms with anyone after the show except for maybe duncan or heather

- noooo heather being a mean girl is part of TD's brand but yes i've always HC'ed that her and gwen became best friends

- this is canon to me idc

- honestly i'd like to think that the producers bribed geoff into taking on the cocky asshole-host persona bc wtf happened to how nice he was in the 1st season ??

- i've also had this same HC too i feel like after tdwt courtney gave up trying to please her parents so when she came back for tdas she had a little less motivation to win (i don't think she would ever be okay with losing or pretend to hate it but after continually not winning the competition and being humiliated she would probably accept loss at some point)

- wait i kind of like this 😭 i'd like to think that the real ezekiel from season 1 never came back and that the tortured zombie zeke that we see in season 3 is just some person disguised as zeke meant to get audiences talking and nobody except for chris and the producers knows about it

- i forgot what dj's relationship with his mom was like tbh but she should have qualified for tdwt

[voidtheacesuccubus]

1. Asexual, recently added Quoiromantic

For further context I am nonbinary, but visually indistinguishable from a perfectly "regular" cis het woman, giving me the classic cis-het-woman-problems in dating as a base line. Like, we're really out there playing among us with a bunch of "nice guys". Somewhere is an abusive asshat, but you don't know where and you're guaranteed to be at a complete physical disadvantage should he try something shitty. Also for some reason it's always a totally innocent guy who gets kicked out of the ship first.

2. Romance in theory nice, in reality gives me anxiety bc I feel like I'm too stupid for it and a partner doesn't feel loved by me

Touching/Hugging only with permission but can be nice

Kissing (with permission) very dopamine printer button, I only care about who does it to me bc shit like herpes exists.

Sex (with consent) very dopamine printer button but I am too stupid for it and get anxiety if I have to come up with ideas myself. And the partner literally doesn't matter outside of my trust issues and, again, getting sick. Imagine the dog meme going "no attraction! Only sex!"

Love nice in theory gives me anxiety in practice bc see romance, very one-sided situation, not because I don't love but bc I can't express it

QPR very new concept to me, feels like the ideal thing the more I read about it though. Kinda what I always imagined a romantic relationship would be before I recently realized damn I'm an idiot nobody(outside of aros) else thinks this way

Significant other I love the idea of having a very close, personal partner to battle whatever life throws at you with, I hate how possessive some people are about them. I am my own person, not one half of a conjoined unity.

One night stands in theory very interesting, I am hypersexual after all, but in practice I have nothing exciting to offer and would be at the complete mercy of a sex-hungry stranger, not a comfortable position to be in when you're *complicated*.

Porn gives me nothing. I'm not a visual type.

Smut of fictional characters I already have some kind of emotional bond to is amazing, can't get enough of it, love you AO3 M rating writers, doing Dodo Jesus's work.

Dates are ugh. Tell me upfront what you hope to achieve, otherwise any hints you place will go right over my head and I will be an anxious mess because of it. Nothing is worse than a guy misunderstanding you and having expectations that don't get met. So I don't actively seek out dates, but avoid them at all costs. Unless they're established friends. I go on dates with my hetero male friends all the time and at this point we're all just laughing about how other people think we're a couple.

Yeah I should maybe have suspected this aro-spec-thing a lot earlier...

3. Most people just put me right back into the allo-box when I say I'm not repulsed by sex, then get annoyed when it turns out I'm not lol. Not that I'm mad, I'm annoyed with myself, too, because it makes obtaining (consentual) sex as a hypersexual very hard.

4. Not really, but I don't tell many people because why would it matter to them, it's only relevant for romantic(-esque) relationships and only one guy ever got that far with me. He was not aphobic, just confused, but same mate, same.

5. I am autistic, which has a massive impact on all this. The alexithymia is strong with me, my connection to my feelings overall is bad, but with romantic feelings it seems much worse. Maybe I can mend this one day, maybe I will not go ???? when things get romantic at some point. But right now this is where I am, which is why I adopted the Quoiromantic label.

And I'm ace bc all people are equally unattractive to me. I can go "nice fashion" or "such skill making that hair" but people overall give me nothing, not a single attractive person on this dirtball.

The Aspec Questionaire

Aspec is such a vast category and one some folks (especially allo folks) tend to treat like a monolith. So I thought it’d be good to do a little questionnaire to demonstrate.

(Skip anything you don’t want to answer.)

1. How do you identify?

2. How do you feel about the following, one word answers are fine if you want:

- - Romance

- - Touching

- - Hugging

- - Kissing

- - Sex

- - Love

- - Queer Platonic Relationships

- - A Significant Other

- - One Night Stands

- - Porn (Video)

- - Smut (Written)

- - Dates/Dating

3. What is the thing you think most people misunderstand about your identity?

4. Have you encountered aphobia in your life?

5. Anything else you’d like to add on the topic?

[atalho-s]

Light Up The Dark

Part 1 | June

pairing: bartender!tom x famous!reader

warnings: some smut +18 (in this particular chapter it’s nothing TOO explicit, but miniors be aware), swear words?, drinking, let me know if anything else!

words: 4.9 k

summary: y/n is a famous horror writer. Her books are on the lips of the people and her face is on all the magazine covers of promising young people.

She has just moved to Los Angeles, the city of celebrities and luxury, when she starts to get a writer's block as she starts writing her newest book. A way to distract herself and seek inspiration leads her to have her destiny mapped out with a simple waiter named Tom who has a delicious british accent.

What happens when her inspiration comes back only after she spends a night with him and she only manages to write after being in the company of that guy she just met? Maybe he'll become her newest addiction.

a/n: english it’s not my first language, so i’m sorry for any mistake! this is a series i started writing a while ago, i hope y’all enjoy :) the reader it’s from brazil here, but you can replace from any country you want lol And obv i’m not from LA and never been there, so if i say something out of reality it’s bc of that 😂

"June arrived at the restaurant, sat down near the bar and looked around vaguely. The strange people's faces made her think better and maybe drink a shot of tequila too.

She opened his folder with the horrifying photos of the mysterious case. She felt sick to her stomach.

People said that by then she should have been used to see this kind of thing, but that was repulsive.

She wish the nightmare she had the night before was a way to solve that puzzle, but believing in the afterlife now wouldn't help her... If...If..."

- Damn it... - Y/n slammed her fist on the table. - Writer's block sucks. - She said and took the last sip of her tea.

It s been a week since she couldn't write anything. She would write maybe two paragraphs, maybe even three if she got lucky, but she always ended up erasing it, because she always turned into something meaningless or too cliche.

Damn the time she had promised to deliver something to her editor by the end of the month. But she hadn't counted on the lack of ideas when she agreed to that.

She got up from her chair in frustration and crossed her arms, pacing, as if her creativity had gone out for a walk and she was waiting impatiently for it to come back.

Why had she agreed to write a new book in the first place? She didn't need money. Their previous four books were already making huge profits, and they were going to make a new television series based on one of them.

So why writing another one? Maybe because, she had been having too many nightmares lately. Many family and friends told her to see a psychologist, see if she didn't have some hidden trauma. But looking for a psychologist? Admitting your weaknesses and personal things to a stranger? Never. That would be horrifying.

Writing helped. Transferring his fears to pages was hers gift. When she wrote she didn't have nightmares, didn't see things, wasn't sad. It was like a drug, a calming medicine.

Maybe fame was also making her restless lately. She hated being the spotlight, being the magazine cover of promising young people. She hated to see her name highlighted. But she loved having readers, yes. She loved when someone felt good reading her books or in the good sense of the word: terrified by her stories.

At the height of her 25 years, he never thought her books would become famous at that point. She had always enjoyed writing since she was a child, but working with it was just an unattainable dream. Until, at age 19, she quit her hideous job as a hotel receptionist and decided to publish her first story.

Obviously there were many rejections, until a publisher agreed to publish their work. From then on, her books became more and more known. They called her the new horror genius, the mystery queen, and sometimes even "Stephen King's lost daughter."

She didn't think it was all that. But she accepted the descriptions gladly. No wonder her books didn't come out of the top spot on the best sellers.

Another thing that motivated her to continue with that story, was a phrase from her own idol mentioned, Stephen King: "good stories are those that stay in the head for a long time". And God only knew how that story had been with her for far too long. She always wanted to put it down on paper, so here she was trying to put into words what her head brought up as random thoughts.

But now she was having one of his first creative blocks. Obviously she had already had it with previous books, but nothing as frustrating as this one. She had been trying hard for days, which was exhausting.

She looked at the clock on the wall: 11pm. Who knows if she took another break before starting writing again? Maybe it would help to come up with more ideas.

She thought about watching a show or movie, but he wasn't in the mood. She looked at her long polka dot pajamas under her favorite warm robe and snorted. Go out? On a Thursday night? On a cold night? No way.

But what if it helped her have more writing material? Watching people on the street really helped. If June, the character in her book, was in a bar, maybe if she went to one too it would help to have something to build on.

Writers did it all the time. Describe places that already existed, situations similar to which they lived. So, it wouldn't be new. Maybe she'd even put the location in her tribute if helped she got out of her creative block.

She took a deep breath and went to take a shower. It was decided, she would go out. She put on her best jeans, a Ramones T-shirt with a leather jacket. It wasn't a fancy outfit, but she didn't intend to go somewhere fancy anyway. Her stylist would have been dying to see her now, but she didn't care one bit.

She went out pressing the bottom of the elevator. Y/n had lived on the top floor of a building for 2 months, right in downtown Los Angeles. Sometimes she didn't even know why she chose to live there, she hated the big city and what came with it: paparazzi, celebrities, crazy people who feel superior, wealth and luxury. She came from a humble family, so she always felt like an outsider.

Y/n arrived downstairs and left the condominium calling a taxi that was passing in the street just in time. She walked in and closed the door, crossing her arms, trying to ward off the cold.

- Good night miss, where are you going? - the driver asked looking at her in the rearview mirror.

- Good night... Actually I don't know, do you have any suggestions for a bar around here?- she asked looking out the window. She didn't even bother to look for suggestions for places nearby.

- Well, it depends on what you're looking for... Something luxurious or something fun? - He said and a smiled played on the corer of her mouth. Luxurious was the opposite of fun indeed.

- Something fun, of course.

- So, I suggest the new Seven Devils bar, it's less than 20 minutes from here... - he said.

- Interesting name... Could be. - She said shrugging.

- The name is kinda creepy, but the place is cozy and welcoming, I went once. - the driver said starting and entering the street that was practically empty for being a weekday.

- Cool... - Y/n said looking at the city lights through the window.

After nearly twenty minutes the taxi stopped in front of what appeared to be a small door with a security guard in front of it. The neon sign indicated the name of the place, it seemed a mysterious place for those who passed by without knowing it.

- Thanks. - Y/n said handing the driver the money.

- You're not the Y/n Y/l/n? I didn't want to say anything, but I'm a fan of you, I love your books, they help me pass the time while I wait for passengers. - the driver asked turning a little with one of the Y/n books in his hand. - Could you sign this for me?

- Sure! - Y/n spoke excitedly taking the book from his hand and leaving a message along with her signature. - Thanks for the tip of the place. Have a good night... - She said opening the door.

- No, thank you, have a good night miss. -he said and she smiled closing the door and the taxi left leaving her alone looking at the door in front of her.

She approached the security guard who wished her good night, giving her room to enter, after she showed her ID. Y/n entered a little afraid of what she would find. The door behind her closed and she looked around. It was really cozy as the taxi driver said, it had a part with several tables, which were a little empty and a bar with stools around. The place had a good atmosphere, one of those that people go there to meet and chat with friends, in the background there was a kind of pop song that she wasn't sure if she knew or not.

He slowly approached the bar and sat down on one of the stools. A woman with several tattoos appeared behind the counter and came to serve her.

- Good night! How can I serve you?- she asked with a smile.

- Good night... Hm... Maybe a martini? - Y/n said taking a look at the drinks on the shelf behind the attendant.

- Okay, I'll be back with your order, anything else?

- That's it for now, thanks. - She replied smiling and the attendant walked away.

Y/n kept looking around, watching people, maybe looking for some inspiration. Something that would turn the key in his mind. Many who were there were in groups of friends and were talking animatedly, laughing. Some young and some older, in suits and ties, perhaps coming out of work.

Until one guy in particular caught her attention. He wore the black uniform with the name of the place, with an apron tied around the waist of the same color, and was picking up some glasses from some empty tables. He had dark brown hair slicked back and eyes the same color, very expressive and large. A boy's face from the outside, but on the inside had a mysterious and confident air.

He balanced a tray full of things with an greatest skill in one hand and smiled at some people, he seemed charming because everytime he left a table he left people whispering and giggling embarrassed behind his back.

He walked over and entered the bar placing the tray behind the counter, came close to the other attendant who already had the Y/n martini ready and she could hear him talking, soon realizing he had a perfect accent.

- Sally, you can leave it to me, go take your break. Whose martini is it?- he asked taking a look around.

- Oh thank you, my feet are killing me. It's the girl over there. -she said indicating Y/n with her head and he looked at her, making Y/n realize that she was staring at him for too long, so she looked away embarrassed.

- Okay. - he said looking at where Y/n was sitting and stopped in front of her with the glass. - Good night miss, here is your order. - He spoke with a british accent. Only at that moment did Y/n realize that his accent was well loaded and God only knows how much she loved that accent.

- Oh yes, thank you very much. - She said raising her eyes to look at him and smiled then he blinked with one of his eyes and gave her one more look, before going to deliver another order to a man who was sitting a few benches away.

Y/n felt a shiver all of a sudden, that boy had made her legs a little weak and she didn't really know why. I mean, he was handsome, very handsome and he had a special charm, but it wasn't that much, was it? Maybe it was because it had been a while since she'd dated anyone. When was the last time? Two months ago? Since she had moved in she hadn't gone out with anyone, she had locked herself in her apartment and was writing like crazy. She didn't have time to go out, not even with her friends when she was working on a new book. Which brought them dissatisfaction from time to time, not just because she didn't hang around with them, but because she didn't even go out on one-night stands.

She never been the one that going out with a guy just for sex, she had to have some good first dates and maybe she would take him to see her apartment or go to his apartment. Friends of hers thought she was too old in her spirit, but what can he do? If she couldn't be bad girl once in a while. For a moment she thought, "For this english guy I would be" but shook her head away from the thoughts. She went back to analyzing him, dammit why did he have to be so fit? She could see that the T-shirt he was wearing highlighted his muscles that were only left to her imagination, she found herself biting her lip a bit and snatching her martini off the counter, taking a big sip.

The attendant approached again, drying some glasses with a towel, and took one more look in her direction where she looked away quickly making him smirk. He stopped in front of her again, bracing her arms on the counter, making her swallow hard. He didn't know why she was so nervous, he was just a guy, no biggie.

- I like the shirt. - He pointed with a smile, which made her think he had a beautiful and endearing smile. She looked down and then looked at him smiling too.

- Thank you... Ramones is everything... - she said and drank the last sip of her drink placing the empty glass in front of her right after. - Can you serve one more?

- Sure...- he said, still smiling, took the bottle and filled his glass again. - Trying to distract yourself on a thursday night?

- Yeah... you could say yes... - she said taking another sip. - Have you worked here for a long time?

- In fact, it's been almost six months since I moved to the United States and I've been working here for four months. -he said putting the towel that was in his hand on his shoulder.

- Hm... You're from London?

- I am, wow how did you find out? - he asked raising an eyebrow playfully and she smiled.

- Yeah, your accent really doesn't give out anything ... - she said and he gave a low laugh making her have more goose bumps.

- You also have a different accent, have you lived here for a long time? - he didn't know who she was, which was good. But it also wasn't like she was recognized all the time, despite her face being on magazine covers, she was still a writer, so she was only recognized by those who liked to read or who vaguely remembered her face.

- I was born in Brazil actually, but I've lived here for years, lived in another city for almost five years and now I've decided to come to Los Angeles two months ago...

- I see ... - he said organizing some drinks that were on the counter. - Do you like it here?

- More or less... It's a busy city, isn't it?

- Yeah, it's not for anyone. - He said shrugging. - I like it, I like the rush, but the glamor part really isn't me. - the attendant said and she smiled.

- You're right... I mean, I don't like the glam too much either... - She looked away at her nails.

- What do you work with? - he asked and she looked at him again.

- I'm a writer...

- Nice! What do you write? - He asked curious looking at her with attention.

- I write horror and thriller books.

- Interesting... I would never read, actually I'm not much of a reader anyway, but I wouldn't, because I'm terrified of those things. - He said crossing his arms and she laughed.

- Oh, it's not that terrifying, it's just stories. - She said leaning her elbows on the counter.

- Still, I prefer to have my good night's sleep intact. - He said and she laughed making him smile looking at her.

When she was about to say something, a customer signaled for him and he excused himself going towards the man who was furthest away.

Y/n sighed. She still didn't have any new ideas about her story, but she was entertained by that conversation. She liked not being recognized, she liked him not being interested in her books, for a moment she felt oblivious to anything, liked feeling disconnected from her world.

He returned shortly after and they started talking again. They talked about bands, movies, superficial celebrities and even politics (an important topic in Y/n's vision, who was very firm with her ideas, thankfully he had passed the test). She found out that he was the same age as her and that he moved to the US to look for something that would give him money or a perspective on life, ended up getting that job and intended to stay until he found a different area. The hours passed and they kept finding subjects to give their opinion or questions to ask each other.

- Did you go to college? - she asked after a while.

- No, I don't think I'm smart enough for that, or have the patience. What about you?

- Everyone is smart enough. I started going to business school, but I dropped out when my books started to pay off...

- Wow, your books should give you a good amount of money to be able to drop out of college and dedicate yourself to them...

- Yeah... You could say that. - She shrugged.

- You know looking at you closer like that...- he said getting a little closer and she held her breath for a moment. - I've seen you somewhere...

- Really? - She said raising her eyebrow and drinking from a straw, now with a different drink.

- I don't know, you're not strange to me... - he said putting his hand on his face thoughtfully.

- Well, I hope it's from somewhere nice. - She smiled and he smiled back looking at her. - Do you have a girlfriend or are you married? - Y/n asked and regretted a little, what was she thinking? He wasn't married, as he didn't have a ring on his finger as she'd noticed. But what was her intention by asking that question? She didn't even know, she just knew it had escaped her.

- Neither darling. - He replied smiling a little mischievously and she felt butterflies with the way he called her by that nickname and with that accent. - How about you?

- Neither ... - She replied avoiding looking at him, those eyes hypnotized her and she didn't like to feel at his mercy of a guy she had just met. She took the cell phone disguising but paid attention to the time. - My God, it's already 2:00 in the morning! I completely missed the time.

- I think the company ended up distracting you. - He said still not taking his eyes off her and she felt her cheeks heat up.

- Yeah, the chat was really good... But I have to go... - she said getting up.

- If you wait I can take you home, I'm already leaving, the bar is already closing. - he said and Y/n looked around seeing that some waiters were already collecting some things from the tables.

She thought for a moment, take a ride home with him? It didn't make sense, she had just met him, but at the same time she had enjoyed talking to him so much. He didn't seem like a bad person, but even so you would never know for sure. At the same time she never took any chances, why not let that pretty boy take her home? Finally, she thought: you know what? Screw this.

-Erm, ok...- She shrugged. - I'll go to the cashier to pay and wait for you outside?

- No need to pay darling, it's on me. - He spoke winking and she smiled.

- Oh no, I'll pay no problem...

- Your company has paid off your debt, it's ok. - He replied and she took a deep breath rolling her eyes.

- If you insist...- she said giving up.

He came out from behind the counter and motioned for her to follow him, arriving at the front door where the security was.

- Tuwaine, you can let her pass, it's on me. - He told the big guy and he looked at the english man, sawing his eyes suspiciously and smiling right away. Making Y/n laugh inside.

- Meet you outside? It will only take a few minutes - the attendant said and she nodded, leaving in the cold night.

She leaned against the door with her thoughts. She had come here just to get inspiration and to have her creative back, but she was coming home with an english guy. She didn't even recognize herself anymore, but to say she wasn't anxious (in a good way) was a lie.

She was lost in her thought, until minutes later he came out wearing a denim jacket, which made him look even more handsome.

- Let's go? - He said and she followed him to an old car parked right in front of the bar.

He opened the door for her to get in and she thanked him by sitting in the passenger seat, pulling on her seat belt as he closed the door. He sat down next to her right away, also putting on his belt.

- Hey, before we go: I didn't ask for your name! If you're going to take me home at least I have to know that- she asked realizing that she didn't even know that yet and he looked towards her smiling.

- Tom Holland. - He said stretching his hand. - Nice to meet you.

- Y/n Y/l/n- she said, squeezing his hand. And you can't deny that she felt butterflies in her stomach as she felt her skin on hers.

- Your name is not strange to me, I must have read it in one of your books in some shop window. - He said starting and leaving with the car.

- Yeah, who knows ... - she said and he turned on the radio leaving the volume low.

They were exchanging a few words until she indicated that they had arrived at the building where she lived. Tom parked and looked up in a daze.

- Wow, you really have money... - he said and she took off her belt turning towards him.

- A little bit...- she replied crossing her arms. - Well, thank you so much for the ride...

- You're welcome darling. - He said turning his eyes to her. Again that nickname that sounded perfect on his lips.

She turned around, but when she was about to open the door, she turned back to Tom, who was leaning with one hand on the steering wheel and watching her with attention. The next words escaped her again and she was afraid she'd regret it.

- Tom, do you want to come in? - She spoke still holding the door and the boy smiled.

- Sure ... - he said taking the key from the ignition and she shook her head slightly leaving.

He followed her and they entered the building. Tom looked at everything admired which made Y/n smile a little to herself. They entered the elevator and she pressed the penthouse button causing him to raise an eyebrow.

- You really must be a great writer. - he said and she laughed.

He leaned his back against the elevator wall, putting his hands in his pocket and looking her up and down, making her shy. He kept looking at her and it was making her nervous.

They were silent until the elevator opened after a while and they got out. Y/n put a password on the door and it swung open with a small click, she took held the latch and motioned for Tom to enter.

After the two of them entered she closed the door again behind her and watched Tom standing further on, looking around.

- Nice apartment...- he finally said.

- Thank you... - She leaned against the table at the entrance. She didn't know what to do next, maybe it had been a bad idea to bring him here. Why was she so impulsive that night? -Tom, I don't know why I invite you in, sorry...-she said a little nervous looking at her feet. He turned towards her, approaching and stopping in front of her.

- Are you sure you don't know? - He asked and she raised her head, seeing those brown eyes. She bit her bottom lip watching him closely. Damn he knew how to hypnotize her. He took another step and placed a hand on either side of her on the table, cornering her - Your body says otherwise, love... - he said softly feeling her breath hitch slowly and approaching his face to hers, alternating the look of your eyes to her lips. Y/n found another nickname that was perfect when he say.

He finally closed the distance by pressing his lips to hers. His lips were soft and warm, as if they were meant to be kissed. She returned the kiss willingly and when she laced her fingers in his neck, he licked her lower lip slowly asking for passage in which she opened them letting his tongue explore her mouth.

His hands gripped her waist and roamed her body greedily. As he kissed her, he caught her from behind her legs and sat her down on the entrance table, biting her bottom lip shortly after, provoking a low moan from her. He smiled against her lips and trailed kisses to her neck, attacking her skin with desire, making her throw her head back a little.

She grabbed his hair and pulled him back so she could kiss him. Which he gladly reciprocate. His kiss was urgent, but without being rude, he tasted like mint, making her want him even more.

His fingers found the button of her pants and he undid them quickly pulling them out, tossing them aside. When he came back he took her calf and kissed her leg up to her thighs, making her sigh. He moved up the kisses until he caught the hem of her shirt and pulled it up a little, kissing her stomach as well. Y/n didn't know what to do but feel goose bumps with every touch he gave. He then hiked up her shirt and she lifted her arms where he pulled her off, tossing along with her pants that were also on the floor.

She was just wearing her underwear in front of him, it made her a little excited and embarrassed at the same time, but the way he looked at her made her feel confident. He went back to kissing her body, this time kissing each covered breast in turn and reaching for the back of her bra and opening it. She helped him out tosiing to the side and he stood between her legs just watching her for a second, making her feel her cheeks heat up.

- Perfect... - he said with a low voice, as it was for himself and bent down to her breasts kissing each one of her nipples and then sucking them deliciously. Y/n moaned and bit her lip to keep her moans from getting louder, tangling her fingers in his hair again. He looked into her eyes for a few seconds and smiled slightly lowering his kisses to where she wanted him most.

He reached the hem of her panties and pulled them out slowly, kneeling between her legs and she looked at him with expectation. He returned the look and gave that smirk again.

- Look at you darling.... - That damn nickname. - Extremely wet and I haven't even touched you yet... - he said approaching and devouring her right away making her throw her head back with pleasure, biting her lips again to not sound so pathetic with her moans that insisted in wanting get out. - Oh, please don't drown out those wonderful sounds you make, I want to hear how good I'm making you feel. - He said in a husky tone, returning to his task after and she parted her lips letting her moans spread through the apartment.

****************************************************************************************

Y/n woke up the other day in her bed. She didn't even know how she got there, she just had flashes of the night before and how good she felt in each moment. She stretched and looked to the side seeing she was alone. She got up and put on a robe who was on the side of the bed.

After going to the bathroom and doing her morning hygiene routine she walked around the apartment looking around to see if Tom was somewhere else in the house, but found nothing. Which was understandable, it wasn't like she expected him to stay there and have breakfast with her and all.

She arrived in the kitchen and made black coffee and lean against the countertop. What that simple waiter had done to her was ridiculous, in a good sense, she felt great and kept remembering that accent that was stuck in her mind. He had consumed her in a way she had never imagined it she could be.

Taking a deep breath she set down turning her notebook on. Then opened her book and started writing.

[bi-rising]

some ppl say attraction works according to gender and others to sex. the way i see it is that sex and gender are always tied together? i mean even if a person is trans, their goal is to transition into the opposite sex, so that it matches their gender, right? if we were to say that sex and gender shouldn't match, it'd be like saying that there's no ponint in them transitioning. some ppl say "you are attracted to genders, not genitals, you can't see a person's genitals on the street, yet you can still be attracted to them" buT the sex is not just the genitals? they seem to forget secondary sex characteristics do a lot, and having certain genitals conditions that. i mean, a straight woman doesn't need to see a man's dick to know he's a man and therefore feel attracted to him, if he looks like a guy (tall, beard, flat chest, yk "guy-shaped") then that's enough. others say "but attraction should be about gender bc that way we can include pre-op trans people" that sounds very good but when put to practise... i mean i don't think it realistic that a lesbian, for example, would genuinely be attracted to a pre-op trans woman if she looks man-like. even if she's a woman (after she transitions is another story, but actual attraction? if she has a male body?..). ik there are lesbians who like masculine-looking women of course, but women who have female bodies. it sounds harsh, but that's how i think attraction works... what do you think?

it's definitely a complicated issue, for sure. and to an extent, i think i do agree with you? like, as in you can't expect monosexual people (straight, gay, lesbian) to be attracted to someone who doesn't look like the sex they're attracted to. on the one hand, there are monosexual people who genuinely are okay with a different genital set than the sex they're attracted to, so long as the gender matches up. on the other hand, there definitely are a lot who are, in fact, averse and/or repulsed by the genital set of the gender they're not attracted to.

with a conversation like this, i think there has to be some sort of nuance, you feel me? i believe that there's nothing wrong with having a genital preference, so long as a person acknowledges that a trans person is the gender that they say they are. in that same vein, there's no problem with not being attracted to someone on the street because they haven't begun transitioning, so long as, once they do tell you they are trans, that you refer to them by their actual gender.

the thing about attraction, i believe, is that there is a huge range of ways to feel it and experience it. i think it's wholly possible for a monosexual person to find out someone who isn't passing is the gender they're attracted to, and become attracted to them because of that gender, even if they weren't attracted before. do you see what i'm meaning? basically, i don't think there's any one specific way to pin down how attraction "works" per se, because it's such a spectrum, genuinely, that it would be impossible to set a rule for it other than "people are attracted to the gender and/or sex they are attracted to".

again, nuance would be the most important note to have in this discussion. barring asexuality, in which no attraction is felt at all, being attracted to someone can be experienced in many different ways, and can be unique to every individual person.

also, as a side note, i'd like to give you the benefit of the doubt here, but i think it'd be important to take a look at how you word your examples. as i said above, there are some monosexual people, including lesbians, who have less of an attraction connection to genital than others. lesbians can and do have relationships with transwomen all the time. and transwomen can be masculine, just as transmen can be feminine without erasing their identity. so yeah, i think it'd just be important to maybe watch how you word stuff like "but women who have female bodies", you know? it can very easily come across as "lesbians never feel attraction to transwomen". again, i'm giving you the benefit of the doubt and assuming it was just a slip up, but it's just something to watch in the future /genuine

and on one more note that i noticed rereading your ask, there are many reasons why people might not be able to transition, such as medical reasons, financial issues, safety problems, etc. it isn't right to force a monosexual person to interact with a set of genitals they don't feel comfortable with, true, but it also isn't right to bar pre-transition trans people from engaging in fulfilling relationships until after they've met a certain "level" of transitioning. there are always going to be monosexual people that are willing and those who are not willing to engage with a pre-transition trans person--and both are absolutely fine. trying to define attraction disregarding the people who can and do find pre-transition trans people attractive (especially the genitals, as that seems to be the core of your point) is disingenuous and starts edging on the idea that a trans person can never be more than the genitals they're born with.

[lifesabe-ch]

full scoop - jj m.

summary: after returning to the outer banks for spring break, you’re pleasantly surprised to see JJ again. Apparently, he missed you more than you thought

request: I love ur writing it’s so good :’) if ur taking requests, can u do #4 from the prompt list with jj 💕 “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

pairings: jj maybank x reader

warnings: spilled ice cream

a/n: reposting this bc it got no notes and I absolutely love this so ...tumblr do better

“Hey, sorry to bother you, but I was hoping you could tell me where the beach was?”

As you turned, you extended a hand towards the direction of the pier, “Yeah, it’s just down… JJ?!”

The boy in front of you grinned at your shocked expression, eagerly returning your quick hug. You hadn’t seen him since the summer the two of you had gone your separate ways.

After graduation, JJ had decided to take a gap year. Or a couple. He wasn’t sure. He had always assumed you would do the same, or at least stay local, but your plans had changed. You had applied for a school in the North East without his knowledge earlier in the year, assuming you wouldn’t even get in. But you did, and they offered you a scholarship. Even if you wanted to, your parents wouldn’t let you pass up the opportunity.

The day you had told him had been one of the worst for the both of you. It felt like when JJ had lost John B. to Sarah. Except, with that, he had gotten the chance to know Sarah. He wouldn’t be able to follow you to your school, nor would he get to meet all the people you met.

You had tried keeping in touch after you had left, but it hadn’t lasted for much longer than a few phone calls. You were busy with school, and JJ was busy with the other Pogues. You both knew during that last phone call that things wouldn’t be the same. The two of you felt like instantly, in that moment, you were shifted worlds apart.

It has been just over a year now, with you having just returned from college for spring break.

As the two of you pulled away, you tucked some hair behind your ear, subtly taking him in. He looked the same, but somehow different. Happier.

“Long time no see,” He teased. “How’s that fancy college treating you?”

You laughed as you responded, your words accompanied by a small shrug, “It’s nice. It’s big and I love it but…”

“It’s not the Outer Banks,” he finishes, gauging your expression.

“Exactly.”

The silence that followed was awkward. It wasn’t that the two of you weren’t brainstorming ways to continue your conversation, it was that you both couldn’t seem to decide on how to keep it going.

Clearing his throat lightly, he beat you to it.

“I was heading down to the beach… if, you know, you wanted to join me?”

You weren’t busy. That much was obvious. But you still took the time to think over his offer. You weren’t sure why you hesitated, but you did.

“Okay,” You nod, flashing him a tiny grin, “I’d like that.”

TIME slipped away from the two of you much too fast for your liking. You had spent the day trying to learn how to surf. It was a lot of falling off the board and getting made fun of by JJ, but you had fun. It felt easy between the two of you, the remaining awkwardness fading almost as soon as you had gotten into the water.

He’d even bought ice cream for you both.

You smile as you remembered the encounter from just hours earlier, and the way he had mentioned the hangout you two had first had in the same place.

You were both so awkward around each other. And by both, you meant you. JJ was his charming self.

“No, I swear, I was super nervous when I took you there!”

You shook your head at the boy in front of you, shoving a spoonful of your ice cream into your mouth, “Nu uh! I was nervous. I thought we were on a date the entire time and then you just mentioned that we would be really great friends at the end of it!”

He groaned at the memory, eliciting a laugh from you as you watched his cheeks tint red in embarrassment, “I can’t believe I said that. I had planned to kiss you but then I chicken out and—”

“And friend zoned me.”

“Yep,” He solemnly nodded, an apologetic look on his features, “I’m sorry.”

Waving him off, you shrugged, “JJ, don’t even worry about it, we were kids. It’s water under the bridge now. You were right, anyway.”

“Yeah,” he speaks, before pausing.

“Right about what, exactly?”

“Us being good friends,” You smile at him, gesturing with your hands as the two of you walk along the sand.

“I didn’t think we would at first, if I’m being honest. But we were. You were my best friend.”

“Were?” He nudged you, chuckling.

“Hey, you were the one who stopped calling me!”

“Only because you were always too busy with your new college friends.”

“Not true,” you reprimanded, clicking your tongue.

“I made new friends, but I always liked my old ones more.”

“How was that, anyway? Making friends and… stuff.”

Ignoring the weird infliction of voice when he said stuff, you just shrugged, “It was okay. My roommate was the one who introduced me to people, mostly.”

JJ nodded, smirking at you, “I bet you managed to land all of the boys up there. That’s why you never called, you didn’t have time with all of your new boyfriends.”

You laughed loudly, shoving his free arm with your own, “Don’t even. We both know that out of the two of us, you’re the one who pulls.”

You watched as he stumbled dramatically from your push, flashing you a smile that caused those all too familiar butterflies to flutter in your stomach.

“We both know there’s only one girl for me.”

Ignoring the way his stare burned into you, you glance down at the sand before looking back over at him. A smile instantly erupted on your features at your own idea, as you took off.

“Race ya!” Was all you could manage to call back, laughing as you heard JJ’s groans of protest as he hurried to catch up.

Naturally, you had won. You had made it to the small tree further down the beach seconds before JJ, jumping in excitement for your own victory.

“Hah! I won!”

As you hopped around, you topple over your ice cream, gasping loudly as it spills onto the sand. Just your luck that it would spill not as you were running, but rather right after you stopped.

Still trying to catch his breath, he laughs as he watches you kneel besides the mess, hurriedly scooping whatever you could back up with your spoon.

“Bet you don’t feel like a winner now.”

You frowned as you glanced over at him, still hunched over, clutching his own ice cream protectively.

“JJ… it’s ruined!”

“Just wipe the sand off.”

You stared at him in disbelief, scoffing lightly, “Right, maybe I should just wash it off in the ocean while I’m at it?”

“That’s honestly not a bad idea! It’d wash away the sand.”

He wasn’t joking. In fact, he was the most serious he had been the whole day.

“And the rest of the ice cream! It’s water. Salt water.”

JJ has to ponder your words. He was playing out different ice cream washing scenarios in his head, trying to figure out which would cause the least damage. He didn’t think you were right, but he pretended that you were, for your sake.

Sitting down besides you, he offers up his own, smiling, “Have mine, then.”

“That’s not fair to you.”

He shrugged, smiling sweetly at you, “It’s fine, Y/N. You want it more anyway.”

Taking the cup he was practically forcing into your hand, you pout, “I feel bad.”

“Don’t, it’s fine. And stop pouting, it’s cute but it won’t work.”

Blushing slightly, you roll your eyes, grabbing a spoonful and holding it out for him, “Whatever. But we’re sharing.”

Gladly taking what you were offering, JJ smirked as his lips wrapped around the spoon before pulling away, causing your blush to darken even more.

Dipping it back into the ice cream, you twirled it around before bringing it up to your mouth.

“This is kind of gross. We’re swapping spit right now.”

JJ laughs at your comment, leaning back against the tree bark as he watched you, “Too bad it’s like that. I could think of a better way.”

His response sent you into a stunned silence, your eyes staying focusing on the grains of sand in front of you. If you had to pick between counting out every grain of sand on this beach and feeling as awkward as you currently felt, you’d immediately start counting.

“I… are you flirting with me?”

“You finally noticed?”

You felt like your heart would simultaneously beat out of your chest and stop altogether. Had he really just said that?

“What?”

Moving forward to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, it was JJ’s turn to blush, “I’m always trying to flirt with you. You just never respond. I was starting to think you just really didn’t like me.”

“I… I thought you were joking! I didn’t think you could be serious, I’m not your type.”

He rolled his eyes in response, shaking his head, “You’re the only person who’s ever been my type.”

It was quiet for a moment between the two of you, gazes flickering from lips to eyes, back to lips. You both leaned in slowly, careful not to move too fast in fear of making the moment disappear.

When your lips finally touched, the kiss was soft. JJ’s hands found their way to your face, cupping your jaw as he held you close to him. Your hands stayed in your lap, desperately clinging to the small ice cream cup in your hands, your body leaning forward to keep the space between the two of you minimal.

You were the first to pull away, grinning widely at the boy sat across from you,

“That’s really cheesy.”

“You know what else is really cheesy? This dick!”

“JJ, I cannot stress this enough, I find you utterly repulsive.”

With a wide grin, he pulls you the rest of the way to him, resting his forehead against yours, “Fine, then I’m taking my ice cream back.”

Gasping, you pull yourself from him, holding the cup out of his grasp with a glare, “You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

As you get up, he follows, chasing you around the sand as the two of you laugh. Eventually catching up to you, he wraps his arms around you from behind, lifting you off the ground and knocking the cup over in the process.

“JJ! The ice cream!”

“Next time I’ll buy you two,” was all he muttered, lips already finding their way to your cheek.

[devilsfm]

          sh, LUCIANA AGUILAR is hanging around APEX listening to TELEPATIA by KALI UCHIS again. the BARTENDER is avoided for acting CUTTHROAT and GLIB, but also being quite ALLURING and POISED tends to draw people towards them. they could be described by LUSH LIPS GLOSSED RED WITH THE BLOOD OF YOUR ENEMIES, A PRACTICED SMILE PAIRED WITH SOUL PIERCING EYES. fitting for a 34 / 671 year old VAMPIRE, don’t you think ?  between you and i, rumor has it that SHE’S KNOWN TO USE GLAMOUR ON UNSUSPECTING HUMANOID SPECIES TO GET WHAT SHE WANTS.

➣    CONNECTIONS ,  PINTEREST ,  PLAYLIST ,  WANTED

GENERAL

FULL NAME.    luciana imelda marisol aguilar.

NICKNAMES.    luci.

AGE & BIRTHDATE.    appears 34, actually 671 ; unknown birthdate.

GENDER & PRONOUNS.    cis woman ; she / her.

ORIENTATION.    pansexual.

MARITAL STATUS.    widowed.

RELIGION.    book of the vampyr.

OCCUPATION.    bartender at apex.

PHYSICAL

HAIR COLOUR.    raven-hued brown.

EYE COLOUR.    dark hazel.

BUILD.    slim.

MARKS.    none.

TATTOOS.    a few minimalist tats on her fingers, just because she likes the look.

PIERCINGS.    lobes.

HEIGHT.    5′6".

PERSONALITY

ZODIAC.    unknown.

ALIGNMENT.    neutral evil.

HOGWARTS.    slytherin.

TROPE.    the vamp, bad samaritan.

POSITIVE TRAITS.    alluring, eloquent, intuitive, observant, poised, pragmatic.

NEGATIVE TRAITS.    calculating, censorious, cutthroat, formidable, glib, inquisitive.

HOBBIES.    bartending at apex, eavesdropping on every other species, moonlit walks around town.

BACKGROUND

PLACE OF BIRTH.    somewhere in afro-eurasia.

CURRENT RESIDENCE.    hell’s kitchen, louisiana.

NATIONALITY.    european.

ETHNICITY.    half filipino, half white.

PARENTS.   long deceased.

SIBLINGS.     none.

MAKER.    tba.

CHILDREN.    one, tba.

LANGUAGES.    english, russian, spanish.

QUICK HISTORY

HUMANITY.    she was born in the 1300s, raised within a royal family thanks to her parents being trusted workers to said family, which eventually earned her the lady-in-waiting title to her childhood friend. of course, during the mid 1300s, a bubonic plague pandemic ( aka the black death / plague ) mercilessly swept over their populace, wiping out at least 75 million people. this included her family as well as the royal family. whether it be a stroke of luck or curse, or both, luciana was given the option of suffering the same fate as her dearly beloved family and friends, or being turned immortal, which would effectively immunize her from any and all human disease. the stranger who offered a chance to escape was unlike anyone she’d seen before, and yet she felt completely at ease in their presence; she eagerly awaited a life free from the fear of death. if she’d known how bitter and detached she’d turn in the years to come, luci might have chosen death instead.

REBORN.    the hunger she felt in the beginning was insatiable and almost unbearable. she was horrified by her own yearning for human blood and how natural it felt to drain a victim dry; she felt like a monster. she was a monster. as repulsed as she was initially, luciana was quick to adapt, understanding her only means of survival and adopting the new lifestyle that came with this apparent immortality. life could be incredibly lonely at times, when she had no one but her maker to turn to, but as the centuries passed, she met a variety of people, fellow vampires, and other ... things. she even had a mate, someone she thought she could spend the remainder of eternity with, but they were captured by an unknown group and put to death by being exposed to the sun and then finalized with a stake to the heart. another devastating loss, but she moved on, and through her own experiences and tales told from companions met along the way, luciana was thoroughly educated on the handful of supernatural species walking among them. some friendly, and some obviously not.

EXISTING.     learning the ropes and knowing her place on the food chain molded our darling luci into the personable terror she is today. as a bartender at apex, she has eyes on whoever enters, whether they approach her bar or not, and her enhanced hearing allows her to gather information that otherwise might be overlooked. her inviting smile, though perfected over the years, is empty behind her eyes. she’s sneaky, conniving, and an all around coldhearted being; she’ll do whatever it takes to get what she wants. but that’s not to say she doesn’t respect and follow the law of vampires. mainly out of internal fear of the punishments to follow if caught breaking any laws, but still - she behaves on a needed basis. 

CONNECTION IDEAS

HER MAKER.    would need to be 671+ of course, but if there’s any takers, feel free to hmu!!

HER KIDDO.     ok so basically out of a moment of weakness, she actually felt sorry for someone and turned them. maybe she witnessed them get attacked by something (someone) she dislikes, so figured it would be like a kick in the face to have them as her little attack dog or something sdhgasdf anyways!! now she hates herself for it bc she doesn’t wanna be responsible for someone else lmao.

“NEST” MATES.     2 - 3 other vampires she lives with. they’ve all got their own unique ... quirks sdfhjkdg and they prob share humans / faeries to feed off of bc sharing is caring!! she most likely met them elsewhere and they all traveled to hell’s kitchen together to call their home. for now.

BLOODBAG.    somebody who lets her feed off of them from time to time, either out of the goodness of their heart or bc she used glamour on them and forced them to feel chill with it (yikes). preferably human??

NO STRINGS ATTACHED.    no expectations, just something fun to help both parties blow off some steam when needed. whether they also have some type of friendship (or maybe enemies to make it spicy) or keep it strictly business can be discussed.

LIFELONG ENEMIES.    being(s) she’s had scuffles with in the past (and/or present). they can be civil about it and just stay the hell away from each other at all costs, or they can be dramatic about it and actively seek the other out to throw down or just exchange petty words. maybe even the group who murdered her former mate??

ANYTHING.    again, i’m super open to just about anything, so if there’s an idea or certain connection you have in mind, please hit me with it!

[taxicabinmemphis]

Prince Charming - Chapter 5

chapter one - chapter two - chapter three - chapter four - chapter five - chapter six

Word count - 3,332 Pairing - Intrulogical, Prinxiety, Moceit (I’m deleting the pre bc I have decided to have a chapter with them getting together) Warnings - some characters are a lil insensitive in spots but I wouldn’t call them unsympathetic, creativitwins angst, swearing, food mention, self-deprecation bc they’re all wrecks, pining, and then there’s Remus-typical behavior (body horror mentions, sexual innuendo/mentions of sexual stuff, and other stuff heh), if there’s anything else that should be tagged or put in the warnings, tell me!

After a hearty and delicious meal of spaghetti and meatballs with a side of broccoli, the sides had all retired to get ready for bed. The adventure had gone terribly late, so dinner was later than they’d ever had it.

Logan stopped when he reached the door to his room. Yes, he knew that the next logical course of action would be to enter his room and get ready for bed, perhaps read a book as his stomach digested dinner, but he couldn’t help but remember how quiet Remus had been at dinner. He was never quiet.

His mind flashed back to what Roman said to Remus when they left the Imagination, and Logan clenched his left hand into a fist. Roman, while always striving to do what he saw to be the correct course of action, could also be awfully insensitive. Especially when he didn’t even know he was doing it.

Logan promptly turned on his heels and walked towards Remus’ room.

He ended up meeting the side in the hallway outside his room. Remus was walking alarmingly slow and seemed to be contemplating something.

“Remus,” Logan called, a good fifteen feet behind him.

The creative side jumped in surprise. He turned to face Logan, eyes widened. “Oh, uh, Logan! What brings you to the dark and hellish end of the hall?”

Logan fiddled with his tie nervously. “I came to ask you about something, Remus.”

Silence followed Logan’s statement, prompting Remus to speak. “Well? Fire away, my sexy robot!”

A pink dusted Logan’s cheeks at the nickname. “Yes. Umm...are you okay, Remus?”

Remus blinked. “Of course I am, Nerdy Wolverine!”

Logan frowned. “I believe that’s a falsehood, Remus.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Really? What can I do to convince ya? Rip my heart out and dissect it?”

Logan shook his head, adjusting his glasses. “No, none of that. Just...I remember what Roman said back when we exited the Imagination. It wasn’t kind, but he also had no cruel intentions. However, I could see that it...affected you. Are you okay? Do you require someone to...talk to?” Logan hoped he was doing this right.

Remus sighed and threw his hands in the air in resignation. “I might be okay. Does it matter?”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “Yes, Remus. It does. You are a part of Thomas’ mind and it is important that you are functioning properly.”

“Functioning…” Remus gave a bitter laugh and shook his head. “Look, Logan. Ultimately, I am fine. I can intrude on everyone’s well-being just as I could three hours ago. You can go to bed, you don’t need to worry.” He paused. “Why do you care, anyway?”

Logan frowned. “You are a side, essential to Thomas creating and acting like himself.”

“You don’t know that,” Remus disagreed, shaking his head.

Logan closed half of the distance between them, concern written all over his features. “Of course I know that. I can logically ascertain what exactly your worth is as a side, especially considering I spend a significant amount of time with you.”

“Maybe all that time you spent analyzing my contributions in preparation to shoot them down has clouded your judgement, Logan,” Remus replied, spitting out Logan’s name like it repulsed him—when in reality, it did nothing of the sort.

Was that really how Remus thought of Logan? Someone who only listens so he can later tell someone else why everything he said was wrong? Logan tried to be kind like he did with everyone else, and many of Remus’ ideas interested him. He gave him honest opinions, criticisms, and scientific observations on anything Remus pitched him. But did Remus only see him as an instrument of the intrusive side’s demise?

“Remus…”

“No, Logan, please,” Remus interrupted. “Don’t pretend to care.”

“When did I ever say anything about pretending?!” Logan exclaimed abruptly, widening his eyes and putting a hand over his mouth when he noticed his volume. Logan did his best to erase the surprise from his face and compose himself, clearing his throat and making sure to lower the volume of his voice before continuing. “I apologize for the outburst, Remus. However, you seem to have perplexed me with everything you have said so far during this conversation. Presently, I believe the statement to question is your most recent one and I will state that I am unaware of any action I took that would give you a reason to think I was engaging in a deception at your expense.”

“Oh, Logan, you know. Just drop it and go to sleep,” Remus said, turning around and waving his hand in dismissal.

“No, Remus, I’m afraid I don’t know,” Logan said honestly. “That troubles me. Could you elaborate, please?”

Remus turned around slowly. “Maybe you think you don’t know, so I’ll enlighten you.” He took a deep breath. “You’ve been assigned to listen to me. You have to listen to my crazy bullshit whenever I think it up. In return, I listen to your criticisms, opinions, scientific analyses, notes, whatever. Even when you go insanely far in depth into a topic I might’ve brought up with one of my...contributions, as you call them. It’s a trade, a deal. You have to listen to me and then I listen to you because it’s the least I can do. Neither of us would’ve chosen it on our own, we both hate it, and you know you have better things to do. Don’t pretend to care just because some extra time together allows you to know more about me than you should.”

Logan processed what Remus said, staying unmoving only with the exception of blinking. This is what Remus thought of their arrangement? That he hated it, that he thought Logan hated it, that he forgot Logan was the one to suggest the arrangement in the first place? Janus’ words at the end of their sword fight rang through his head. Logan had been scared that Remus, the one side who listened to him, only did so out of courtesy. And he did. Logan’s fear was a reality.

“You forget that I suggested this...arrangement, as you call it. I was the one who pitched it to Thomas. I chose to do this, and do I have anything better to do? That’s subjective, so I don’t know. I am sorry this arrangement you hate so much has ended up being a prison rather than a way to save Thomas distress while not repressing you at the same time, so if there’s anything I can do to make the experience more pleasurable, I am open to hearing it. However, you are also mistaken that I hate it. I do not, I am incapable of such emotions. Though--”

“No you’re not,” Remus said, voice having a shocked tone caused by Logan’s previous statements and admissions.

“Sorry, what?”

“You’re not ‘incapable of such emotions’, you’re not some heartless robot without a soul. You have feelings, Logan, and I’ve seen them,” Remus elaborated, shock slowly dissolving from his tone.

“That’s ridiculous, you even called me a robot-”

Remus shook his head. “No. I’ve seen you interested by anything remotely scientific I bring up, I’ve seen you as burnt as black toast after I’ve talked to you for a particularly long time, I’ve seen you immediately after a conversation with the others when you have a desperate need to be listened to because they refused to, I’ve seen you embarrassed, I’ve seen you flustered—yes, I caught you burying your face in your hands today—and you just said you care about me. Even though that likely isn’t true, you have demonstrated care for Patton, Roman, and Virgil as well. Even just one of those examples is enough to prove you have feelings.”

Logan was silent for a few seconds, his weight shifting from foot to foot, looking everywhere but at Remus himself. Accepting that he couldn’t argue with most of Remus’ statements without communicating a falsehood, he decided to argue over the only one he could. “I do indeed care about you. It’s not just Patton, Roman, and Virgil. How could it be, considering only you listen?”

“I…” Remus tried to think of a good response. “I bother you. I wear you out. I give you all these terrible things to go through, forcing you to pick them apart like a medical examiner does with a rotting corpse, despite how disgusting and terrible they may be. I occupy way more of your time than I should, and I guess I’m sorry for that, so how could you care? I wouldn’t.”

Logan didn’t quite know how to respond. He wasn’t aware Remus thought so lowly of himself. He contemplated his reply.

“See? It’s not that hard to-”

Logan raised his hand as a demand for silence. Remus shut his mouth, only complying out of surprise. He waited as Logan carefully pondered what he would say next.

“Falsehood,” Logan said gently, starting his response. “None of those things are true. You shouldn’t be suspecting such things either, considering you have no way to know your effects on me. I want to say I wish you hadn’t said that, but I couldn’t do so with honesty, since my real wish is for you to never have thought—much less, believed—those falsehoods in the first place. However, I am considering your previous behavior and would postulate you do not believe me as I have not done anything to prove your statements are falsehoods. Would I be correct in saying this, Remus?”

Remus took a moment to respond, still processing Logan’s response. “I..uhh...yeah.”

Logan nodded. “First, you do not bother me. To bother someone is to trouble or annoy someone by interrupting or causing inconvenience. Considering that I volunteered to be in your company—which immediately debunks anything related to interruptions—and that my time with you makes you cause less inconvenience, you neither cause interruptions nor inconvenience to befall me. You don’t trouble me either. I spend time with you so don’t trouble anyone. And, everyone annoys me. So even if you did, which I don’t find to always be true, you wouldn’t be alone in that regard. You don’t wear me out too often either. Working with you only requires my ears and my brainpower, neither of which take much out of me since you rarely say anything that troubles me or forces me to contemplate problems that drain me. When you do, the reasons are typically seeded in my scientific curiosity for something you might’ve brought up, which is something I can in no way blame on you. To be candid, your company can be a relief, especially after dealing with the others.”

“That makes less sense than glow-in-the-dark lungs.”

“I’m not finished,” Logan stated, trying to be as kind as possible. “But if you would like me to restate what I just said-”

“No,” Remus shook his head. “I understand what you said...it’s just...how? How is that the truth?”

Logan’s face softened. “I am Logic, Remus. Many things that would normally affect a person or another side in a certain way will affect me in different ways or not at all. Your contributions don’t bother me as I am aware of their detachment from reality and get less disgusted at them than the others. And you listen to me, which is a far cry away from being a nuisance.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Remus said, shrugging.

Logan gave a small smile. It was hardly visible, but to Remus, it was as if Logan was grinning. Remus relished in the sight, hoping he could see it again soon and wishing it was something he could gaze at every day till the end of time. Logan never smiled, and Remus causing it made him all the happier.

“I am pleased to hear that you understand that I care for you,” Logan said, voice quiet and gentle. “Now, back to my original question. Are you okay?”

Remus turned his head to the side. “I was hoping you’d forget about the question.”

“Yes or no?” Logan pressed.

Remus took a deep breath, closing his eyes. “No.”

Logan nodded, taking a small and cautious step forward. “Do you require someone to talk to?”

Remus opened an eye and peered at Logan. “I don’t need anything, Pocket Protector.”

“Would you like someone to talk to?” Logan rephrased.

Remus shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to listen to me.”

“I already do.”

Remus gulped. “Alright. Yes, I suppose I would.”

Remus took a moment to gather his words, facing the floor but eyes flicking up to look at Logan every other second.

“Well, you were right,” he started. “About Roman, I mean. It was his comment. I know it’s kind of silly-”

“It’s nothing of the sort, he was out of line.”

“-But it still hurt. And yeah, he said none of us besides him were heroic and charming or whatever instead of just me, but still. It was directed towards me, and...he’s not wrong. I’m the resident villain. He’s the hero. I’ll never be heroic, or charming, or romantic while he can go and sweep Virgil off his feet. I guess his comment was just a wake-up call,” Remus continued. “I know he didn’t mean it to be mean and he’s just nowhere near being self-aware enough to take note of his insensitivity, but I still let it affect me. I shouldn’t have, but I did.”

“It’s fine if his comment got to you, Remus,” Logan said, taking another small step forward. “Roman says things like that sometimes without knowing what their consequences could be, and so it likely did mean nothing, but that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be able to hurt you, or that you’re wrong for letting it. But you also have to acknowledge that he’s wrong, and not view it as a wake-up call of sorts.”

Remus frowned, making eye contact with Logan. “What do you mean? I’m the evil murdery green side who will pull your teeth out and string them on a necklace if you’re not careful. Of course he’s right.”

“I suppose it’s a matter of perspective. Anyone can be a villain in the eyes of someone else. However, any establishment that a certain person is a villain ‘factually’ would be incorrect as the concepts of good and bad are arguably meaningless and any action can be seen as wrong or right in the eyes of another human. There is no truth in opinions, only preference.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

“You may be a villain in Roman’s eyes, you can be a villain in your own eyes if you so choose, however, there is nothing that can or will establish you as a villain for everyone forever.”

“So to Roman, I’m a villain,” Remus said slowly, trying to understand.

“Maybe, he could have just been exaggerating,” Logan said quickly. “He also sees everything as very black-or-white, which I imagine contributes a great deal as well.”

Remus nodded slowly. “And I can see myself however I want.”

“Though I’d prefer that you see yourself positively or neutrally. A negative self-image is never good.”

“And you…” Remus trailed, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Logan’s eyes widened. “Oh, I don’t care for labeling those types of things. I do see you as a positive influence on my existence if that was your question.”

Remus grinned brightly. “That answer is better than fermented semen!”

There was an awkward silence between them.

“Do you honestly believe you can’t be heroic, charming, and romantic?” Logan asked quietly, not wanting to scare off the intrusive side.

Remus stared, surprised by Logan’s question. “It’s not an opinion, Logan, it’s fact. I’m a duke, not a prince.”

“And royal status dictates those traits?”

Remus shook his head. “No...I’m just not those things.”

Logan frowned. “Do you want to be?”

Remus took a deep breath, trying to figure out how to reply without confusing the nerd. “No. I know none of them fit my personality, and I don’t want them too. Especially charming. But...it might be nice to experience once. To prove Roman wrong and that it isn’t impossible for me to have the traits of a hero.”

“There are no specifically assigned traits to heroes, Remus,” Logan said, tightening his tie. “However, you can act however you want within the bounds of acceptable reality.”

“I can?” Remus asked, a smirk on his face. He started to take a couple of steps closer to Logan but stopped a good four feet away.

“Yes, you can,” Logan replied, voice quieter at Remus’ confident advance. The logical side shuffled his feet back, only moving a couple of inches.

“Do you think I’m heroic?” Remus raised an eyebrow.

“What?”

“Do you think I’m charming?” He took a step closer.

“I-I don’t-”

Remus took another step, a larger one, closer to the logical side. There was likely only six inches between them. He stared deep into his eyes, a fiery passion for the visually impaired nerd burning hotter than any star Logan could name.

“Do you think I’m romantic?”

“I…”

Logan’s words died in his throat as he met Remus’ eyes. Remus, who was intrusive, offensive, bad to the bone, impolite, occasionally funny, interested in certain sciences, and strived to learn whatever Logan could teach. Remus, the only one who ever listened.

“You can if you want to be,” Logan said quietly, finally able to speak but never louder than the volume he was currently speaking at.

Remus hummed and pulled Logan flush against him by the waist.

“Remus?” Logan asked nervously.

“What is it, my bashful brainiac?”

“Do you really hate our arrangement?” Logan asked quietly, the question so painful to ask but the answer was something he needed to know before anything else happened. “And do you only listen out of courtesy?”

Remus sighed, running his free hand through the logical side’s hair. “Not one bit. And you are the most interesting person I’ve ever spoken to.”

Logan let another small smile cross his face and glanced at his feet.

“So I can be romantic, hmm?”

Logan nodded.

Remus smirked. He swept Logan into a dip—one arm around Logan’s thigh, lifting his leg into the air, and the other arm around his shoulders. Remus gazed lovingly into Logan’s shocked brown eyes and admired the red face of his nerd, giving the side a second to process what he did. He then dipped his gaze to Logan’s lips and flicked his tongue across his own.

“May I?”

Logan gulped before nodding.

Remus immediately crashed his lips against Logan’s; the simple nod of Logan’s head acting like a lamp that just turned on and Remus’ lips being their loyal moth.

Logan was still shocked from previous events when Remus’ lips met his, his eyes still open. Remus didn’t hate him, which was a plus, and now Remus was expressing romantic interest in him? He couldn’t believe it.

Yet, it was still happening. Logan closed his eyes, put a hand on the nape of Remus’ neck, and deepened the kiss.

It was something both were desperate for, something they had both wanted for ages—no matter how long they were aware of their romantic feelings for the other.

And so they dissolved into the other: Logan melting wherever Remus’ hands met his body, and Remus putting his desperation and need for Logan on clear display as he kissed him like he never would get to again. Remus got to be romantic, Logan was treated like a beautiful princess, and they both felt so incredibly loved.

The kiss eventually had to come to end, so when they both remembered they had to breathe, they pulled away and opened their eyes. Remus kept Logan in a dip and looked down at him like he was the loveliest thing to ever walk the earth. This only reddened Logan’s cheeks further. Remus gave him the fondest, most loving smile he could muster.

“I suppose I can be romantic.”

~

Taglist: @the-sympathetic-villain​ @justanotherhumanstuff​ @thistledown15​

~

This was technically the end of this story, but I do have a Moceit themed sequel that I have decided will just be chapter six. After that, hopefully it’ll be done! Hope you liked this chapter. Sorry, I meant to get this to you on Thursday but homework piled up and I just had a bad day Saturday so it’s coming to y’all now. (Also um you may have guessed but the image of Remus dipping Logan popped into my head and inspired this fic. It was 18k longer than expected)

[honey-hippie-harper]

through the bleeding shell (Re-upload)

This was @obsidianfr3sk ‘s Feel Better gift asfghadsfghadfsghja. It turned out to be pretty depressing in the end bc idk how to write happy stuff but my good intentions were there, ok?

This is a Humon/Renegays fic :’). Which, basically, is about how the Renegays didn’t kiss during the trilogy...sort of. I can’t think of an specific reason why they didn’t besides bad writing and queerbaiting, but I’ve always seen Hugh as this...detached entity. Idk x’d. He shows a pretty dense attitude. And so, I thought that it was partly the reason why they’re not that affective during the trilogy. Not that they aren’t on a daily basis. I just think their relationship was in a bad place when the events happened, because, among other things, Hugh wasn’t grieving Georgia in a healthy way (I headcanon them as best friends </3) and wouldn’t allow Simon to help him. 

idk why I felt the need to talk about that.

tag list (tell me if you want to be in or out): @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @alecjamesartino @everyone-has-a-nightmare @razzmooncake

through the bleeding shell

Being around someone for so long…

It allowed you to know things. Some of them important.

Others, not so much.

Simon had married a person he had been around his entire life; he had slept next to him almost every single day since he was very young. And his name was Hugh Everhart.

Simon knew every spot on Hugh’s body; he knew every mole, every random sun freckle here and there; how his body mass seemed to be well-distributed at plain sight but, in reality, his chest was naturally wider than the rest of his body, as if he had been born with the figure of a baseball player; how he scratched his nose because wrinkling it so much while laughing made it itchy; he knew the way his knuckles turned yellow when he turned them into a fist; he knew there was one single scar below his rib cage area…

He knew everything he had to know about Hugh Everhart, his husband, whom he loved so much that sometimes it hurt.

Yet, Simon was yet to know how and why, lately, he was so cold, despite still being a human furnace who was sometimes annoyed by the blanket on winter nights.

Kasumi frowned, and Simon wished she were misunderstanding, but whatever thing she was thinking, she was probably right.

Cold was a pretty wide term, which could basically mean anything. Being brutally honest, not even he knew what he was trying to convey by using that word, so he supposed he was referring to anything it could express, as a whole.

Thinking about it… yeah.

That option sounded about right.

Another thing that sounded about right, was the idea of Kasumi judging him because of it, which was something Simon knew wasn’t true and, instead, it was just his anxiety trying to ruin his day even more. But sometimes things were like that. He tried to avoid it, but never managed to do such thing. Ever.

“Not to be rude or anything.” She started, but before proceeding she seemed to realize that, maybe, that hadn’t sounded as intended, and her cheeks became extremely flushed, until Kasumi looked like she had ran under the burning sun while wearing a wool sweater for hours. “Really, Si. I don’t mean to be rude. As in...I’m...telling you this...so you think…”

She clicked her tongue, and then both Tamaya, who was also in the room, and him, stared at her as she talked to herself under her breath, making a couple of hand movements, as if she were writing her sentence in the air so she could phrase it correctly.

Sometimes, when Kasumi was nervous, she tended to struggle at putting her ideas together in a gentle, polite manner.

“...I was telling you that, so you don’t think I’m trying to offend you or minimize your pain.” She corrected herself. “Yeah?”

“...Yeah.” Simon nodded.

“Well…” Kasumi rubbed her hands together, more as a distraction than as an actual mannerism. “You know I’ve...never understood. Back at home...when we all lived together and...ugh. You know? Just...don’t mind me. Tam, you tell him.”

“No, no. What you’re saying is important too.”

“I want to listen to you, Zoomie.”

Upon the two pairs of eyes in the room being fixated on her, Kasumi kept fidgeting with the paper cone she now had between her hands, absently.

“Fine.” She whispered in a breathy voice, and then she stared at Simon, who stared back, not because he wanted to be polite or something like that, but because he genuinely wanted to listen to her.

Kasumi wasn’t a talker. That wasn’t an exaggeration or an act of fake modesty. It was just that Kasumi didn’t enjoy a lot of things, and one of them was speaking, to the point where sometimes she didn’t consider it necessary. There were days when she just...didn’t feel like speaking. And she didn’t. Because she didn’t want to. Because she didn’t need to. Because people could understand her anyway.

Still, everyone was willing to listen when she felt there was something she had to explain in a way that was verbal.

“I love my husband very much.” She said, placing a lock of hair behind her ear. “But, still, sex it’s not...a huge part of our relationship because I’ve never understood. When you joked about it back at home, I would just assume you were just doing that. Joking. I...literally didn’t expect you were serious when you talked about experiencing that type of attraction. Because I didn’t. And it’s not that I think it’s repulsive or anything like that. I just don’t get what the fuss is about. When I’m with him...it’s...usually not my first option. To think about that, I mean. And he understands and respects that, which I appreciate a lot.”

The more she spoke, the more confident her tone became. It meant she was growing more comfortable with the conversation, and that her train of thought was getting itself together, nice and slowly.

As for Simon...he was strangely comfortable, too, because this felt like a mature, adult conversation to him. Like a safe space.

After all, he was serious when he told them he needed to talk (now that Evander wasn’t here, because Evander was...not very sensitive). Hence, he was very glad they were being serious about it too.

“I understand that Hugh’s not in the spectrum.” Kasumi cleared her throat. “But...sexuality is fluid. Maybe, if you were talking about only that, it could be a good idea to talk it over. Only if he wants to, of course, because you never know; again, we can’t just assume, because one cannot do that. It’s rude. But what I mean...it’s that, whatever that’s going on in his head, maybe he’s trying to figure it out by himself. It might have nothing to do with his sexuality at all, actually, because, after all, that was just a comment...but it all comes back to the same point. Maybe he just...needs time.”

“Hugh’s pretty dense, Simon.” Simon saw the steamy cup in front of him, but he didn’t realize what it was until the smell of black coffee reached his nostrils. He hadn’t even noticed Tamaya was making coffee.

“Thank you.” He whispered anyway, as Tamaya leaned against the table, putting her weight on her elbows.

For all he knew, and all he cared about, it was pretty easy for people to judge Tamaya and label her as a bad person; she was quiet, although not in the way Kasumi was. On the contrary, she was rather serious, and her resting face was more intimidating than it was warm or welcoming. She was also really bad at controlling her temper, which didn’t help at all, but she wasn’t as bad as people wanted to portray her, or as bad as the recruits talked about her in the halls. Because, when it came to the recruits, Tamaya was strict, yes.

But somebody had to be, because being a Renegade was not a game, and the great majority of the advice she gave was extremely useful and clever.

Tamaya was caring.

Deep, very deep down. But she was.

“He’s pretty dense, but…” She sighed. “Most of the time, that’s not his fault. It’s not a good thing either. It’s not healthy for him and we shouldn’t condone it...but yeah. He can be pretty dense sometimes. He’s like that, most of the time it’s not his fault but...I don’t think you should feel like it’s yours either.”

Simon couldn’t help but flinch a little.

The thing was...he knew that.

It might’ve sounded crazy coming from him, but he knew it wasn’t his fault, even if his anxiety was determined to convince him otherwise.

Also, he was one to know that one couldn’t just fix a person. That’s not how mental health worked; of course, a romantic relationship or a relationship of any kind was a huge source of support and stability, but he knew it wasn’t enough to “heal” a person.

He knew about that, just like he knew that Hugh loved him and he loved Hugh, but that didn’t mean they could fix each other. They could make it a little better, yes; hold each other when things were rough; let the other know they weren’t alone.

But…”fixing” the other.

Not really.

They were humans.

They were people.

And the only thing people could fix, were objects, not other people.

“Like Kasumi said, sexuality is fluid, but it might as well not have to do anything with that.” Tamaya continued. Her voice sounded...soothing, strangely motherly. And she was calm.

Very calm.

It reminded Simon of someone.

They both reminded him of someone.

“Hubby and I, we both experience sexual attraction. It’s an important part of our relationship, and we enjoy it, but sometimes it’s just not the right time. He’s a doctor, I’m a Renegade Council member, and we have three wonderful boys together. Sometimes we don’t have time, so we just sit by the balcony to stargaze, holding hands, or we go out on dates like high school sweethearts, and I stand by the doorframe waiting for him to tell me I look pretty.”

Simon laughed a little.

It was evident she was trying to play it off as something dumb, but he found it absolutely adorable.

“And sometimes I’m too tired or he’s too tired, and that’s normal. It’s not our fault, and it doesn’t mean that we love each other less because…”

“Having sex doesn’t define love.” Kasumi said, and Tamaya nodded.

“Exactly.”

But again.

Again.

Simon knew that.

He really knew.

Hugh and him had busy schedules too. They both were Renegade Council members, and Hugh had it worse because not only was he a member, but also the leader of the Council. He had to be everywhere, at the same time, and people tended to think that just because he was invincible, it meant he didn’t have the right to feel emotionally drained, or at least tired.

Of course he was going to be tired.

He wasn’t a robot.

Hence, Simon understood what they were trying to say, and he agreed with Kasumi and Tamaya.

But the problem was…

He wasn’t referring just to that.

It was...part of the problem, yes.

But now that he knew their opinion about it, he had come to the realization that he still felt...empty and lost. And just...frustrated.

“We’re not only talking about sex, are we?” Tamaya asked carefully, and Simon refused to stare back at her, as he took a sip from his coffee, before answering:

“I’m afraid not.”

“Well...If you’re telling us this, it’s because you do want to talk about it, right?”

“I do. Yes.”

“Well. We’re listening.”

At the same time Tamaya spoke, a cold, little hand, laced between Simon’s.

A hand that felt like the sea and, even if he hadn’t known she was the only person in the room besides Tamaya and him, he would’ve recognized it as Kasumi’s.

So Simon squeezed her hand back.

“We’re listening, Si.” She confirmed. “We’re here for you.”

He knew that, and it was something he was extremely grateful about.

Now he just had to figure out how to put into words what he was feeling, because at this point it felt impossible for him to know.

There were just...so many things, but at the same time such a limited number of details he could recall.

It just felt...unreal.

And weird.

Very weird.

But Simon didn’t feel numb, unlike anyone would’ve expected from him.

In fact, he felt so sad he couldn’t even cry.

And it was the worst feeling ever.

“I don’t know.” He said, in a hoarse voice. “I just...don’t know anymore. It’s just...I…”

“It’s not your fault.”

“I know.” He clarified. “...But maybe that’s why I don’t know what it is.”

For the shortest second, Simon came to the realization he was talking to himself instead of talking to them, or perhaps it was something that, deep down, was giving him the answer to why this whole situation was making him so uneasy and upset. Like, of course it was making him this upset. It was his husband they were talking about. Hugh was his fight. Hugh was…

Simon didn’t know.

But what he did know was that, maybe, it had nothing to do with himself, and that’s why he just couldn’t…

He just couldn’t understand.

Why couldn’t he understand?

Why did it have to be like this?

“I want to know what it is.” Simon took a deep breath, trying to make himself understood; trying to make them understand what he couldn’t. “...So I can...make it better...So I can...help him. So we can...look for help together.”

Simon scratched his brow with his free hand.

“But he’s just… so cold. He doesn’t talk to me. He doesn’t come closer. He doesn’t...do anything. We don’t do anything. And I can’t help but feel like...he’s not here, even though he’s…” Simon scoffed, painfully. “...He’s right there, in front of my face.”

His eyes became fixated on a blank point, as if he were staring at an invisible Hugh, who wasn’t staring back at him.

“And I want him to...tell me. Because if he doesn’t tell me, then I have no way to know what’s wrong. And if I don’t know what’s wrong...then I don’t know for how long I can take it, you know? It’s just...I can’t bear to stand there as he pushes me away.”

Kasumi started running her thumb through his knuckles, and Simon felt Tamaya’s hands on his shoulders, massaging them, gently.

“I’m just scared...that when he finally wants me to come closer again, it might be too late...and maybe I won’t want to come closer again.”

Tamaya’s hands stopped moving for a moment, and Simon could almost feel her and Kasumi’s shock. He hadn’t even planned to say that. It just slipped.

And when Simon noticed it had slipped, it was far too late for him to hold it back.

“Maybe you should talk to him, after all.” Kasumi said, slowly, and Simon stared into her eyes.

He didn’t realize that was the thing he didn’t want to hear until he felt nothing but hopelessness.

Emptiness.

Fear.

A type of fear that became more intense in the moment they heard the door opening, and that’s when Simon saw him.

Hugh was standing right there, staring, and when his eyes laid on Simon, he arched an eyebrow, looking genuinely confused and worried.

“What’s happening here?” He asked. “...Si? Are you okay?”

Are you?

Simon didn’t want to answer. He really didn’t.

He didn’t want this to be about him.

He didn’t want Hugh asking him what was wrong if, harsh as it sounded, everything that was making him uncomfortable or upset had to do with him, not because Simon was blaming him, but because he was genuinely worried.

Let me help, Hugh.

“I’m...fine.”

Let me in.

“...Yeah. I’m...fine.”

Please, love.

Let me in.

Simon could see him hurting, but where he saw hurt, Hugh saw some type of burden that was meant to be concealed, committing treason against his own advice; dodging the sound of the voice of a younger Hugh, who guided a younger Simon through the dark, telling him it was alright.

That pain was alright.

And that pain didn’t make him less human.

Hugh’s pain, in particular, was a grey, bleeding shell that was so thick Simon couldn’t find a way to get in, and Hugh couldn’t find a way to get out.

So they just pressed their palms together through the bleeding shell, staring at each other's eyes through a polarized surface, that stopped their skin from touching, and stopped their lips from finding the other.

And the worst thing...was that Simon was craving that. He craved Hugh’s lips. He craved everything physical about him, just like he craved everything that wasn’t physical too. And he craved him so much he felt like dying every time he was close. He craved him so much it made him feel like a teenager again.

Which, in his case, wasn’t a good thing.

He wished it was.

But...teenage years weren’t fun if you had to spend them trapped in a closet. Things were never good when lived from inside a closet.

He didn’t want his life outside that closet to be like that too.

“Did you have an attack? ...Si, did you take your pills? … You did, right?”

“Hugh.” Simon heard Tamaya’s voice. “Is there...something that you needed?”

Hugh blinked, knowing that, maybe, he had interrupted something.

Mostly because it wasn’t like Tamaya was trying to hide it either.

“...Yeah.” He said, resting his arms on the nearest chair.

Tamaya pulled away from Simon, and Kasumi let go of his hand. They didn’t become fully focused, nor did they put on their “I’m working” mode either, but they did manage to...pretend. Even Simon managed to do so.

“Uh...I…” Hugh snapped his fingers in front of his own face, trying to remember what was it that he had to say.

“....Yeah.” He concluded. “Yeah. Uh… Tam. I need you to head downtown because they want you to supervise some of the floats for the parade. From...up, I mean. So you can check some of the details. I already checked from the ground and everything’s looking good, but now they want you to give them the green light.”

“Right now?”

“Preferably.” Hugh scratched his nose. “Were you...in the middle of something?”

Tamaya filled her cheeks with air, and then let it out, making a little trumpet with her lips.

“No.” She lied. “It’s fine. I’ll go. Just let me put some stuff in my locker, alright?”

“Be careful when you fly, okay? It’s kinda hot outside. If you get dizzy...”

“If I get dizzy, I’ll land. I know. I’m the one who’s flying.”  

Given that she was already heading by the door, Tamaya patted his shoulder, and they said goodbye with a very polite kiss on the cheek, before Tamaya left the room completely, and Hugh drew his attention towards Kasumi.

“Margaret White is acting out.”

Kasumi frowned. Deeply.

“Margaret...what?”

“Uh. White? You know? The Renegades’ ward? The kid?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I know who Maggie is.” Kasumi waved her hands in front of her own face. “...Who named her that?”

“Who named her what?”

“White. Who on Earth…?” Kasumi clicked her tongue. “Nevermind, okay? Just...what did she do?”

“Zoomie, I had already told you.” Hugh laughed, confused.

“I thought you were being rude, Hugh.”

Margaret White was the Renegades’ protégé. Her powers consisted of detecting and attracting metals which, evidently, was not something that was out of this world. In fact, she had been recruited at such a young age not because she had extraordinary abilities, but because she was problematic as heck.

She was Max’s age, more or less but, unlike Max, Margaret had no chill.

Her life was ruined from the moment somebody saw her and decided that White was a suitable last name for her, Tamaya used to say.

Margaret’s skin was tan, and she had slanted eyes. Naming her “White” almost seemed like a tasteless joke.

Simon himself thought Hugh was just being disrespectful the first time he told him her name, and he had to hear it a couple of times before he just...accepted he was serious (and that Hugh himself didn’t seem to like the idea of her being named like that very much).

Maggie was really problematic. For real. She had been kicked out of a couple of orphanages already, and maybe she would have been kicked out of this one too, if it hadn’t been a prodigy orphanage, which happened to be under Kasumi’s management, meaning it was directly related to the Council. And they were supposed to make sure nobody got kicked out of there.

Simon liked Maggie, because he knew that there was a chance that everything she ever did had reason behind it. An emotional reason. Perhaps she wanted love. Perhaps she wanted attention.

Perhaps she just…

Wanted someone who didn’t give up on her at the minimum inconvenience.

So he just...tried not to.

Hard as it was, because Maggie tended to make it hard; Kasumi had tried to canalize her to a psychologist many times, but her response always was that “she wasn’t crazy” (perhaps because kids her age were mean and “crazy” was one of their favorite words to use as an insult) and...well...part of the process in children, was understanding when it was the right time and when it wasn’t.

Sometimes forcing kids into treatment made it worse, and Maggie was pretty mature for her age, while painfully childish at the same time. Respecting her space and giving her time was their only option, if they didn’t want to turn her into a ticking bomb.

“Are you for real? I’ve been addressing her like that for like…”

“Just tell me what the little bundle of joy did now.”

“Pff.” Hugh scoffed. “Bundle of joy.”

Then, he cleared his throat the moment Kasumi fixed a glare at him.

“Well...the usual. She stole something from one of the nannies, Carrietta Ferland saw her and she locked her in a cellar so she wouldn’t say anything.”

“She locked Carrietta Ferland in a cellar.” Kasumi rubbed her forehead, and before she left the meeting room, she squeezed Simon’s wrist.

She didn’t say goodbye to Hugh.

Simon didn’t, either, when he excused himself under the sort of cheap white lie he needed to wash his face.

-.-

But one could only wash their face so much, before their partner suspected.

When Simon didn’t come back, Hugh didn’t go after him. He never did at first.

As in…

Hugh always went after him, just not at first; over time, Simon had grown to accept it wasn’t a pride thing.

When Hugh left, he never wanted anyone to go after him, and he was the type to believe that just because he didn’t want something, it meant nobody wanted it; Simon had gotten used to it, because Hugh was his husband, and they accepted each other just like they were.

What Simon refused to accept, was the bleeding shell Hugh was inside of.

He hated it.

He despised it, especially at night. It would grow around Hugh in slow motion, and then he would bleed through, and the whole room would turn red, overflowing it with unspoken, suffocated anger and pain.

Hugh turned his back at Simon that night, so Simon turned his back at him too, not because he was mad, but because he didn’t feel like staring at Hugh’s back today.

Their room became as cold as an industrial fridge, as they both fell deep into the notion the other was not asleep, and that they both were listening to the sound of a room that was currently filled with deathly silence.

Deathly as the bone-chilling cold penetrating their limbs, their organs, and their everything.

Deathly as…

Deathly as feelings.

All the stored feelings, and the way Simon craved something he knew was right there.

Hugh was right there. Right next to him. And his body, which he knew so well, was laying next to him, turning his back at him, with every mole, every sun freckle, a chest wider than the rest of his body…

And one single scar below his rib cage.

The same rib cage that protected his heart.

Say something, Simon.

The same heart Simon had felt beating so many times.

Say something.

Anything.

Maybe…

Maybe this had a reason too.

An emotional reason.

Perhaps love. Or attention.

Say something. Anything.

Because you do go after people from the very first moment.

Slowly, as if he had never moved before in his life, Simon rolled to the other side, and as his trembling hand rested on Hugh’s arm, he became alert, awake as they both were, and he looked over his shoulder.

“Hugh?” Simon asked, the name leaving a familiar firm in his mouth that tasted like home.

He didn’t answer, because that was his name. Hence, he knew he was trying to talk to him.

“Come here, Hugh.”

And Hugh came over, hesitantly, rolling to his side too, as they faced each other, and Simon ran his finger through his face, just...exploring every spot he already knew, as if he were visiting his comfort place, of his favorite bench in the park.

His blue eyes seemed to shine in the darkness, and Simon felt he could’ve gotten lost in them and never come back.

But he didn’t get lost.

Because he had to find the love of his life first.

“I’m never giving up on you.” He whispered. “...you know that, right?”

Perhaps he didn’t.

But, on the other hand, perhaps he did. And Simon was left with nothing but the mere hope it had meant something.

“I’m never giving up on you either, Si.”

But Simon did know that.

Boy.

Did he know.

-.-

What he didn’t know, however, was the answer to the what.

He wondered what that had felt like.

He wondered what Nightmare had felt when, the morning after, she tried to shoot Hugh in the eye from a roof.

Not because he were mad at her.

No. Not really.

She was young after all.

He just wondered what she had felt.