#does it actually suck that much to wear a crop top or am I so accustomed to being as comfortable as possible I’m not used to being at all | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thekats · 2 months

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Nothing to bring you back down just as you're clawing your way out of a hole like a good old-fashioned realisation that you still have a ways to go to deconstruct oppressive systems that were planted in your brain at the ripe age of "no thoughts yet".

(Very long post on internalised fatphobia below)

I've been working hard to deconstruct internalised fatphobia (among other things). I've been trying every which way to love and find the beauty in my own shape ('average' weight, curvy build). I've been gently inserting and steering conversation to the best of my abilities towards body positivity. I've been reprimanding friends and family for repeating tropes and notions. And strike me with lightning right now if I don't love bigger bodies. On other people.

And I've been fighting that last tidbit so hard for so long. I like to think that if I were, truly, fat, I'd embrace it, but that I'm so insecure right now bc I'm this weird in-between where, if I show off my body, people will think I think I'm thin enough to fit the beauty standard (I am not). Me wearing a crop top does not feel like a statement so much as it feels like I'm petulantly trying to make people see that "I AM thin!!!!!" My belly isn't flat. My belly isn't toned. I'm so used to sucking it in that I've developed this weird issue where I frequently fully forget to breathe.

I am a binge eater. I've been fighting that for a very long time as well. I also have (now hopefully permanently dormant) hyperthyroidism and currently no-money-itis. I default to around 80kg give or take at a whopping 1,78m height. I'm the average's average, it seems like. And I honestly can't tell anymore if my issues with my body fat are because society and bullying have destroyed my perception of myself so much that I'm seeing things in the mirror, or if I just genuinely hate myself and the social consequences of fatness so much that I have to obsessively criticise every lump and bump on my bones. Or maybe I'm just that obsessed with clinging to every bit of control I think I have left in my life? I am not fat; I know that. I do not experience the daily struggles of fat people; I know that. Trust me, my mum is fat and has been my entire life. I know.

But when a work colleague asked me today if I'd lost weight, I was instantly sent into a shutdown, at work (luckily my shift today is working solo, but I still have to interact with people), because I had too many reactions all at once. None of them was pride.

You see, I've been battling with myself for weeks now if I can wear a crop top to my local pride event this year. I've worn a crop top for the first time in probably a decade only a few weeks ago and I felt great, sexy, comfortable, until I sat down with my very thin friend at an ice cream parlour. It had been my idea and my treat bc I hadn't "spoiled" myself to ice cream in a looong time when it is one of my favourite foods. The ice cream was good, the weather was warm, and there were people who were barely paying us attention but simultaneously seemed to be staring me into becoming a black hole. And I know paranoia is another one of my issues, but you can't deny the fact that people love to stare especially at those they consider in any way "unsightly". I felt like they must have considered me unsightly. Particularly when my friend is all thin and flat and narrow, even when sitting down, she's conventionally attractive and gets hit on. I get hit on, too, but I don't see that in those moments. I remarked proudly that day "I am wearing a crop top!" and she answered "I am wearing a crop top, too." It made me angry because, I thought, "Yes, but your thinness is not policed like my potentially perceived thickness." Neither her nor I have any actual say in our weights. She can't gain, I can neither gain nor lose. That's okay. It really really is. For other people.

I've seen so many beautiful fat queers at pride events over the years. I am not them. I cannot be them because I am not fat. So I still don't know if I can wear a crop top to my local pride event this year because it won't look like a statement. It will look like a desperate plea to be considered thin.

Another big thing my mind cycled through so very instinctual was "if my colleague noticed me losing weight and I have such issues with how 'big' I look now, then how big must I have been the last time she saw me? And I didn't even realise? How big am I now without realising it?!" Mind you, I've lost this incredibly huge amount of 4kg in however-many months /s. Yes, I can do my belt tighter by one, but scrunches up the waist of my trousers and it's uncomfortable/overstimulating, making me suck in my belly even more than I'm already trying not to do. But there's no change for my colleague to see, really. There shouldn't be.

The last big thing that went through my mind at the question was a mix of anger and frustration. Anger because why? Why would you comment on my weight? Why is that a thing you do? Just why? And frustration because it was 7am, I was already entering the shutdown and so had 0 energy to get into my spiel about why she shouldn't be asking that, why she shouldn't comment on that and why she is playing into the whole systematic- I just said "I don't know, maybe, I don't care."

"I don't care."

For two hours now and for the rest of the day at least, I have felt and will continue to feel shame. Not because I lied. I'm a high-ranking autistic who desperately wants to be an actor. I lie all the time. Being me is the biggest, most intricately detailed role I will play in my entire life. No, I am ashamed because

clearly

I do care. So much.

I've done all this work for years and I still fall short of my own damn self.

But, without wanting to turn this into a bs forced-positivity ✨keep going and everything will be alright✨ kind of inspo-post, I won't back down because of this. I feel deflated, disappointed, deterred. But not defeated.

Setbacks are normal.

Society is a sneaky snake and the roots of those seeds it plants run deep. You probably don't need a white person to tell you this (or maybe you do, but that's another, very frustrating topic), but you won't dismantle all this shit you want to fight within yourself in a year. Not when it's been growing inside you your whole life. And you will hit walls. In others. In society. In yourself. If nothing else can motivate you to stick with it, let pettiness do that job for you. Society right now is still fucked. It will stay fucked for both our lifetimes. Show it the middle finger. Be part of the change for generations to come.

Just because we have to suffer now, doesn't mean everyone has to suffer in generations to come.

This goes for all intersectional matters ever.

#katish stuff #fatphobia #internalised fatphobia #body image #social justice #intersectionality #intersectional feminism

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emeraldspiral · 6 months

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Who wants to see some old cringe selfies of vintage millennial fashion?

So, the backstory behind most of these pics is way back in 2010 I got a job at Target for a few months and during that time most days I had to wear a red top with khakis as my work uniform and I very quickly started to get bored with the monotony. So I decided to do some bathroom photoshoots of the different outfits I had at the time besides the red tops I was wearing every day. I pretty much don't have a single one of these articles of clothing anymore, except for a couple of necklaces. Most of these I think I got rid of because I gained a lot of weight after I got a car, if not because my tastes evolved or they fell apart on me.

This first collage is a bunch of all black outfits.

The scarf I'm wearing in the first one was a souvenir my sister got me from the gift shop at Alcatraz when she was on a school trip. It's got a fake stamp printed on it that says "Rejected: Too Cute".

Second outfit, I think I got from Forever 21, both the dress and the thigh high boots.

Third outfit was probably mostly made of JCPenny pieces. I used to wear it to a lot of job interviews, not that it helped because the job market sucked almost as much back then as it does today. Also, those heels were from Payless and although they were cute, they were absolute murder on my flat feet. I held onto that tie for a long time with no shirt to wear it with because they don't really even make women's blouses anymore that button all the way up and even when they do, I can't wear them because all button-up blouses gape on me. Also, can't really find vests anymore, for that matter.

Fourth outfit I think I got from Value Village.

First outfit bottom row came from Kohl's and I bought it after only looking at the hanger and not the actual tag, but despite the dress being an XS and me wearing a medium at the time, it miraculously stretched far enough to fit, so I kept it.

The off-shoulder top I got from a local retailer that is actually still in business today with a handful of locations that have shifted to different suites around town over the years, but never shut down.

The velvet outfit I believe was either a hand-me down or an old church outfit that used to be knee length before I cropped it into a hi-low skirt.

All of these outfits by the way I wore in my late teens and early 20s to school and walking around town before I had a car. Nothing I own now or have ever owned is a date outfit because I don't go on dates.

First outfit in this teal/turquoise set is probably my most cringe. That headband was really ugly with my short hair, and I don't think that long top over a short skirt and cropped hoodie combo was a good look.

The top from the second pic came from a gift shop at Niagra Falls from a school trip I went on my junior year of high school. It originally had black felt ribbons, but the first time I washed it I didn't realize the ribbons weren't sewn on, so they came off and got destroyed, so I replaced them with turquoise ribbons that were sewn on.

Third top I'm pretty sure came from Gottschalks before it went bankrupt and got replaced by a Forever 21, if that doesn't carbon date me like the fossil I am.

The top in the first two pics on the bottom row I used to normally wear with a pair of black jeggings. Hear me out though, these were not yoga pants with a fake denim print slapped on top, they actually had texture like real jeans and I think a button and zipper even. The pockets were still fake, but they were actually sewn-in faux-pockets like they have on normal pants, not a print. They were basically just very thin, very elastic form-fitting jeans I wore so I could have a smoother silhouette under long shirts. I actually still own the necklace I'm wearing with that top, but I never wear silver anymore, so it's getting donated soon.

Last dress in the teal set is another piece I got from the same place my off-shoulder top came from. I might've even gotten them at the same time.

First top I got from a specialty online goth fashion shop. I actually didn't have my own credit/debit card at the time because I was still in high school, but my sister told me if I gave her money and she didn't think it was cringe/inappropriate for school, I could show her things I wanted to buy online and she'd get them for me. So that star top was one of the things I got along with the goggles and fingerless gloves seen in other pics, and an assortment of other accessories from when I was deep in my Hot Topic Mall Goth Invader Zim-core aesthetic phase.

The corset I'm wearing in the next three photos had no boning in it, so it wasn't uncomfortable to wear, except for the fact that it didn't stay in place or hold its shape like a corset should. I got that corset from a local retailer that closed down, in a mall that has since become a dead mall.

In the middle row, I believe I got both the top and the cardigan from Forever 21.

The brown outfit in the middle of the middle I think I got from JCPenny, except the green top, which came from Forever 21. Shoes might've come from Payless. That was my second go-to job interview outfit and I miss it a lot. I tried looking for those pieces on Poshmark once so I could recreate it. But it turns out the brown top and skirt actually came from the junior's section, so there's no way even the largest size I could find it in would fit me now.

I think the silky green skirt and the green sweater in the next couple of pics also came from Forever 21.

The butterfly top on the bottom row I think came from the same store where I got my corset. I don't wear heels anymore, but I also don't wear converse anymore either because zero arch support is just as uncomfortable as heels on my flat feet. I don't wear headbands either because they aren't comfortable anymore. Every one I try just squeezes my skull too much.

The green bustier-looking top is another one of my most cringe outfits because it was constantly rolling up.

The next top after it is also pretty cringe, cause it's just an unflattering shade of neon green.

The last outfit was one of my most frequently worn from late high school and throughout college. I used to wear it with a pair of dangly guitar-pick shaped GIR earrings that my sister got me when she went on a trip and got to visit a Hot Topic before we had one locally. At some point I swapped out the GIR earrings for a pair of zipper pull earrings because my sister told me the GIR earrings don't go with the rest of the jewelry I wore with it.

The navy crop jacket was another Forever 21 piece, and I think I got those agonizingly painful booties from there too.

Then there's my Butch Girl Style Icon Dib Membrane shirt that I had to alter to fit right because it only came in a men's size.

The next outfit below was a hand-me down velvet shirt/jacket thing that I turned into a dress.

Last outfit is probably my oldest. I think most of its components I got as far back as middle school, and I think they were hand-me downs even then.

I used to love that purple cardigan until it got stretched the fuck out in the wash. I think it came from the same place as the off-shoulder top and the teal dress.

The next top I believe was another Gottchalks piece I might've had as far back as middle school. It used to be a hideous brown/olive green until I dyed it, but it was already getting threadbare even then.

The purple cowl-neck outfit I think I also got from the same place as the purple cardigan.

Last outfit is another one of my most cringe outfits with yet another overlaying piece that rolled up all the time.

Closeups of some necklaces I wore in some of the above pics. I actually still have the black flower necklace, but that's another one that's getting donated soon because I don't wear silver anymore. I totally forgot it used to have another black chunky chain attached before I removed it. The soda tab necklace I made myself and painted with nail polish. I actually made several necklaces and bracelets out of soda tabs, some of which I handed out to my friends.

Bonus:

Me in one of many iterations of a black belted jacket I've worn throughout the years. I don't have this specific jacket anymore, but once I started wearing them, I've never not owned a long, black belted jacket as my main staple piece of outer wear. So I've never really escaped my Zim-core roots.

This pic was taken by somebody at my college paper. They saw me waiting for classes to start and wanted a picture of me for an article on fashion. I got a few copies to show my family, but they also posted the article online. Not a lot of people saw it and there were only a couple of comments, but none of them mentioned my outfit and one of them said something to the effect of "None of these outfits are in style and the writer of his article has no business giving out fashion advice cause everyone knows Alaskans are always 5-10 years out of date on the trends".

#fashion #millennial fashion #vintage fashion #2010s fashion #early 2000s fashion #2000s fashion #invader zim #scenecore #mall goth fashion #honestly #i kinda miss that haircut #i had it for many years #grew it out and cut it several times #and i don't think i've ever really been satisfied #with any haircut i've had since changing it

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keefechambers · 1 year

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so I don't have many other trg blogs to follow and my partner is not caught up lol so can I get your thoughts on the season??

Like how did you feel about the new characters?

Fave moment or episode? (Or least if you wanna go there too :p)

Favorite outfit or quote? Or maybe character arc?

How did you feel the stakes were compared to previous seasons? I kinda missed the crime element personally but it did seem to be more personal relationship stakes

AHh! Okay, I loved this season! I am inclined to slightly agree with you that I did miss the heavier crime element. Seasons 1 and 2 were very slick and self-contained in that way and I really enjoyed it, and I hope more of that comes into season 4. BUT I loved that it focused on Deepening the Lore of the family (since Danny has said he wants this to be a sprawling multi-generational epic) and the relationships. I love that the show isn't afraid to let characters actually end up somewhere different than they started.

Favorite new character? REDEEMER obviously!!! (Only halfway kidding)

Spoilers below~

I really really loved the Montgomerys. They really give a lot of insight into Eli's psychology (the same way Baby Billy does for Aimee-Leigh) that I think was necessary. We got glimpses of it last season with Junior and Glendon, but friends and bosses are different than baby sisters. I like that his relationship with May-May mirrored the difficulties that Jesse, Judy and Kelvin have with each other. I don't think it's a secret that Karl was my favorite new addition and I hope he sticks around, even if he's just a small part of continuing seasons as needed. I am a sucker for very large, very sweet men. I loved that Peter was a villain who wasn't, compared to season 1 and 2 where the bad guys were just outright, unrepentantly evil.

I liked the themes of taking accountability and forgiveness and that sometimes people aren't beyond saving a lot this season. May-May having to own up to her part in Peter's downfall, Peter getting away from the militia and realizing he'd become such a different person... I love that the militia fell apart the way it did because I research rightwing extremists and honestly, the petty in-fighting and the grudges and the stupid priorities are true to life.

I also hope we see more of the Simkins as like, ongoing nemeses because they were a very funny mirror to the Gemstones.

My favorite episode was probably episode 6! The fight scene between BJ and Stephen was really really well done and hilarious and the balance of earnest drama and funny jokes that don't undercut the emotional hits was just, top form. I'm ALWAYS a fan of the Interludes, though.

Favorite MOMENT, tho. Like obviously The Kiss is a big one. Top Tier. But really ahhh, I'm a suck for the Interlude bit where Jesse picks up and spins Amber. I love a pick-up and spin. But also Gideon and the Redeemer???

Favorite outfit is definitely Keefe's fire-dance fit, or his finale fit with the cropped sweater. Oh, and there's this peach suit that Martin wears in the episode where Peter disrupts church lunch that is FIRE. Martin might be, fashion-wise, my favorite after Keefe and BJ.

"It's Kelvin's friend, Chief" lives rent-free in my head, but it's quickly being replaced by "DID YOU FUCK DUSTY DANIELS?!"

Character arc wise, I think I gotta give it to Judy. Like. It was sincerely romantic and beautiful to see her go from this insecure high schooler who was terrified that no one would ever love her to an adult woman who is...terrified that she's driven away the person who loves her most it was just GORGEOUS and so well-written and well-acted. Like... I love her. I love her so much. Edi Patterson call me.

I really loved it overall. I think the plot was bigger and messier but I don't think that was a negative so much as a way to set up future seasons and for that, it wholly succeeded.

#the righteous gemstones #trg season 3 spoilers #trg spoilers #REDEEEEMERRRRRRRRR

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venusiangguk · 4 years

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hand-picked | jjk (m)

>>pairing: jungkook x reader / famous!jk x sex worker!oc

>>genre: strangers to lovers, smut, pwp, teaser, drabble

>>word count: 2.8k

>>warnings: glory hole au!!!, cocky jk, bad boy jk, stripper oc, sex work, sexual tension, awkward tension, hand job, blowjob, cumshot, cum on tits, pay for play, semi-anonymous sex, dirty talk, dishonesty... that’s it i think zzz

>>notes: if u don’t like sex workers ur ugly and i hate u 😌 also ty to @wheresmymoniat for betaing n helping me out, ily <3 *repost bc tag issues don’t mind me 🙄*

>>summary: glory holes weren’t a real thing... at least until you’re on your knees for a stranger, cock in your face, with nothing but a curtain between you.

Despite your nerves, you grasp the semi-hard cock in front of you, attached to a nameless person behind the curtain. For a moment you wonder what the hell you’re doing, but the soft sigh that you hear brings you back to the present. You stroke up and down, watching as he starts to become fully aroused. The foreskin rolls over the pink tip on every upstroke. You bite your lip. The silence is awkward, but you think maybe the whole situation is.

“So... what do you do? Like… not specifically of course, but are you an idol? An actor? You can be vague…”

Behind the curtain, Jeongguk, whom you don’t know the identity of, stiffens just a bit. Will his voice give him away? Maybe, but he was never one to turn down an opportunity to boast about himself and his achievements.

“I’ve done it all,” His voice is airy, softer than he would like, but your hand on his cock is speeding up, and so is his breathing. “I’m good at all of it too.”

You hum at the man’s response. Cocky. “Isn’t saying you’re good at a lot of things just another way of saying you’re not good enough at one thing? So you have to compensate by spreading yourself thin?” You gasp a small giggle when you feel the cock in your hand jump a little at your words. “Did you like that? It wasn’t meant to be degrading, but if that’s what you’re into-“

“It’s not- that.” He doesn’t know if he’s denying your psychoanalyzation, or your keen interpretation of the way his cock reacted to your psychoanalyzation but one was more inaccurate than the other. He actually was great at most everything he did, no need to overcompensate like you assumed.

Your small hand tightens, and you rub your thumb at the underside of the head, you let out a small pleased noise when you see a bead of precum well at the tip. “Really? You’re starting to leak a little.”

You sound amused and humorous and if Jeongguk had it in him he would be annoyed or even upset at the way you’re talking to him. You were basically hired help, a means to an end. He glances down his torso at his hard cock in your tiny, well-kept manicured hands. Your nails are a dark red, burgundy color. It complements your skin well, he thinks. He can’t see much of you, just your forearms, along with the bottom part of your tummy and your legs. You’re sitting on your knees between his spread out thighs, feet tucked under you. From the tight black leggings you’re wearing and the slim-fit long sleeve white crop top you have on, Jeongguk can tell you have a good figure. Your waist is tapered in, tiny and cinched, and your hips are wide enough to accentuate it, letting him know you’ve got a petite hourglass frame. You aren’t too skinny though, there’s a softness to your body that he likes. It’s not like he needed the tight fitting clothes to know what your body looked like, though. He’s already seen more of it than he is right now. His mind flashes to the club.

You may be hired help, but you were hand-picked by him.

“It’s just-“ He contemplates what to tell you and settles for, “It’s been a while.”

“Since?” You push. You hear footsteps outside and you hand stops, scared for some reason that you’ll get caught doing something bad. As if the door wasn’t locked and being guarded. Behind the black curtain, his hips lift just barely, urging you to keep going. Don’t stop.

“Since someone’s helped me.” Jeongguk’s head rolls back when your hand starts moving again. It’s been at least a few months since he’s gotten off with someone, his hand being his only companion. After the situation blew up even more than it had in months prior, his leash was tight. No wiggle room at all. He was suffocating and desperate. He almost cried when his team propositioned this arrangement, embarrassing as it was.

When he speaks, his voice is soft and everything is said with a sigh. He sounds so relieved, like it feels so good to be in your palm, like he’s been waiting for your hand on his cock forever. You blush, and right your thoughts. You don’t even know who he is or what he looks like. Still, you ask, “Does it feel good, do you like it?” Tone soft to match his.

Jeongguk nods and swallows thickly. Eyes still closed, letting the pleasure slowly work its way through his veins. Then he remembers you can’t see him. “Yeah.” He breathes.

You hum and keep up your ministrations. Not slow, but not fast either. You’re not quite sure what he likes yet, but the soft moans that flutter through the curtain at least let you know what you’re doing isn’t wrong.

“I like your hands,” He surprises you by saying. “They’re so small; soft,” A more vocal sound falls from his lips when you twist your hand on the upstroke. He’s chuckling when he says, “Kinda strokes my ego a little bit.”

You glance at the cock in your hand. It’s pretty. Thick and pink. A pleasant kind of heavy in your hand. The veins running over it are subtle enough to not be ugly or intimidating. The only intimidating thing about it is the size. He’s big. And you’re sure he already knows that.

You snort. “I don’t think you need that stroked.”

This makes him laugh a little harder. It’s a nice sound. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” He hums, you think you can hear a smile in his voice. It’s quiet again for just a moment before he says, “Will you- faster? Make your hand a little tighter too- yeah, like that.”

His hips sink into the chair when you comply with his requests before he’s bringing them back up, subtly thrusting into your palm. You fight back a moan; you shouldn’t be getting hot for someone you don’t even know right? This was strictly business. Still, you can’t help the slight shifting you do, squeezing your legs together for a little bit of pressure on your pussy.

Jeongguk notices. “Are you turned on?”

“No!” You squeak.

“You can touch yourself,” He offers.

“No!” You insist, “I-I’m fine.Thank you though.” You say dumbly.

He doesn’t say anything more, focuses on your hand on him, tugging just how he asked. His hand rubs over his stomach, flexing as he teases himself, his own light touches mixed with your strokes brings goosebumps over his skin. “Feels, so good.” He groans, eyes watching your hand under the curtain.

Encouraged, you bring your other hand up and massage lightly at his balls. They’re hairless, the only hair he has is the small trimmed patch above the base of his cock. He’s well kept and has good hygiene. That alone was attractive to you, stranger or not.

When you palm his balls, his legs spread as far as they can with his black cargo pants still around his calves, his big black stomper boots keeping them from being shed all the way. “Fuck,” He moans deep and loud for you. One of his hands comes down past the curtain and reaches for you before he quickly pulls it back. You think you saw a flash of ink on it, but you can’t be too sure, mind kind of fuzzy with poorly hidden arousal. The opposite hand comes into view, and your mouth parts in awe as he covers your own hand with his. It’s so much bigger than yours, completely enveloping it as he strokes himself off, using you in a way. Then again the whole arrangement was you both using each other.

“You’re mouth- put your mouth on it,” He sighs, pleasure just dripping from his lips. His cock is rock hard in both your hands, and you can tell he’s getting close.

You hesitate. “Will… will you be able to see me?”

Jeongguk comes out of his desire induced high a little bit and realizes what he said. He wants it, fuck does he want your mouth, but he probably should have asked. “No, no. I’ll lower the curtain a bit more if you want, and you don’t have to swallow. You don’t even have to suck it if you don’t want- like I know we have a thing going on but I would never like- force you I-“

He’s rambling a tad so you cut him off. “I want to, I think,” You whisper, taking in his intimidating size again, “I just- if I can’t know who you are, you can’t know who I am.” You blush feeling a little childish.

Jeongguk keeps the fact that he already knows what you look like and more or less who you are, at least on a surface level, to himself as he moves the curtain to the next lower notch, the bar resting just above his pelvis now. He can’t really see much of you at all anymore. “That’s fair, yeah, just-“ With your confirmation that you do in fact want to suck him off, he can’t keep the lustful neediness out of his voice, “Please.”

You take a deep breath as you wrap both of your hands around his cock, the tip still poking out the top. Tentatively you lick at his frenulum and the sound that comes from behind the curtain is obscene. His hips twitch and everything. You want to hear his noises, all of them, so you do it again. You flick your tongue fast over the most sensitive underpart of the head, before placing wet sucking kisses to the same area, almost making out with the tip of his cock.

“Oh my god-“ His body is pulled taut, and his hands are gripping the chair that he’s sitting in. “Fuck that’s- I love that.” He says, head dropping back, mouth open in a silent moan.

You moan against the tip of his cock, not able to hold yourself back anymore. Wrapping your lips around it, you take the head all the way into your wet, hot mouth, and suck. You lap up all the precum that leaked out, and point your tongue to play with the slit. The man behind the curtain is loud for you, letting you know just how good you’re making him feel. You get so lost in it that you don’t register him raising the curtain bar just enough for him to slip his hand past and push you off.

“S-sorry,” He says, panting, “I was about to cum.”

You make a small sound of confusion. “That’s okay, I can swallow- If you want me to.”

Jeongguk shakes his head behind the curtain. “No, I- I wanna watch… see your hands stroke me off.” His request is quiet but his cock pulses in your hand, needy and hot. Already begging for release, despite you not being at it for that long.

Wordlessly, you start stroking again, gathering the spit that’s on his tip to make the slide easier. It doesn’t take much time at all before his thighs are flexing and you can see the lower part of his abs tensing.

“Close,” He whispers.

Jeongguk watches as your tiny hands fly up and down his cock, grip tight just like he showed you. He’s doing his best to not fuck up into your hands, wanting to just rely on you and your movements, but it’s hard. Small eager little thrusts of his hips show you how ruined he is. And it’s just a handjob. He knows. If he was present enough he would probably be embarrassed by how angry and red his cock is, swollen and hot in your palm. And he’s just so wet, leaking all over the place making the strokes of your hand loud in the room.

He watches as you hunch over some, to where he can see everything below your neck, and your free hand comes up to your shirt. He sees you struggle a little bit as do your best to get the collar down under your bra, with only one hand before squeezing at your tits. “Do you want to cum on them?” You whisper.

“Fuck, please.” He whines high pitch and needy, all reservations out the window.

You hum, and work your arm faster over his cock, the rapid movements making your tits jiggle. “Do it, cum for me… cum all over my tits.”

You can’t see him, but Jeongguk’s face is lewd. Pleasure so apparent on his features, it almost looks painful. His eyebrows are furrowed, his mouth open, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes are wet and glassy, so overwhelmed by finally getting help after so long of cumming by himself. He’s chanting soft, pornographic yeah’s and yes’s until his whole body curls in on itself, you can see the way his legs tremble as he moans, “Fuck, I’m cumming.”

He forces himself to keep his eyes somewhat open, lidded and heavy with arousal, as he shoots all over your chest. You’re moaning with him behind the curtain as you work him through his orgasm, despite no physical pleasure being given to you, and that makes another small shot of cum dribble from his spent cock. You lean forward, careful of your identity, and wipe the leftover milky substance on your already soiled skin and black bra. You slap the slowly softening cock on them for good measure and Jeongguk groans.

You keep playing with his cock, not sure if he’s the type to like it or the kind that wants you off right after he finishes, but he winces and reaches his hand under after not too long, stopping you.

“Please,” He whines.

His voice is fucked out, and your pussy aches, needy and wet in your panties. “Oh, sorry…”

He laughs lightly. “No, no. Don’t say sorry… You’re like- so good.” Jeongguk sighs to himself out of your view. He’s leaning back in the chair, while running a hand through his sweaty hair. Little tremors of pleasure are still coursing through him, when he closes his eyes, blissed out, dazed and relaxed. Finally, after months of being pent up. “So, so good.” He murmurs softly, distractedly.

His hand that reached under the bar to grab yours to stop you, is lazily rubbing over the back of your hand, hold light and subconscious against his thigh. He probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it and you blush, shyly pulling your hand away. He doesn’t show any sign of even noticing and you both settle into a soft quiet, only your breaths sounding in the room.

“Um.” You say eloquently.

“Fuck sorry.” Jeongguk says, scooting the chair back to put his now soft cock away. He rolls his eyes to himself. Way to get stuck in the afterglow by himself with his flaccid cock in some girls face. “Let me get you a towel.”

“Should I put the blindfold back on?” You ask.

“Uh- Yeah.” He says stilted. This is weird. You just made him cum so hard he almost knocked out, and now he’s making you cover your eyes so you don’t figure out who he is.

You hear the hesitation in the man’s voice and assure him that it’s okay, while grabbing the blindfold you tucked into the waistband of your leggings. You knew how it went, you signed the papers. Patiently you wait until you hear him coming back and sense a soft moist towel being shoved under the bar. You blindly grab it with a soft, “Thanks.”

“I’ll go wait in the bathroom so you can- I don’t know…? Get ready to go I guess.” You hear his heavy boots retreat to the bathroom, that’s located on his side of the curtain, assuring that he wouldn’t be seeing you on his way.

With the blindfold off, you go about cleaning yourself. Your knees crack when you stand up after being sat on them for so long. Wincing, you run a hand through your long hair and walk over to the table where you left your bag. You leave the used rag in its place and you shoulder the purse. About to make your way to the door, you pause.

“I’m uh- leaving?” You yell unsure.

“Okay,” He yells back through the door. “Did you- did they- your- did they give you the-“ He stutters, not sure how to ask if you got paid.

The wad of cash in your purse is heavy. Figuratively and literally. “Yeah, they did.”

“Okay… Good. I’ll um see you next time?” He sounds hesitant and shy.

You laugh. “Yeah I guess so.” And with that, you make your way out of the hotel, thinking that he sounds a whole lot less entitled and cocky than he did when you first got there.

~~~

hiii guysss! thanks for reading this lil drabble! This is kind of like a teaser for a longer fic i have on the back burner (let me know if you like the concept and want me to continue!) but i wanted to post something because i havent for a few weeks bc i have been soo busy with school pls i want to cry 🥲 i should be doing maths as i post this lmao. ANYWAY! thanks again for reading, if u liked it, pls like, comment, reblog, or even send an ask! love talking to u guys n feedback is always lovely <3

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dorimena · 3 years

Text

𝕻𝖗𝖊𝖙𝖙𝖞 𝖕𝖙.𝟏

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔢𝔯; monoma neito

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱; 5.1k of filth,

𝔴𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰; nsfw, Overstimulation, edging, dacryphilia, degradation/humilliation, cursing, cockwarming, crossdressing, school girl kink (?), mommy kink, pegging, cum play+eating, dom!fem reader, sub!character

𝔬𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯 𝔱𝔞𝔤𝔰; whiney Monoma, loud sex, Monoma in a skirt, soundproof dorms, mentions of other 1B characters, aged-up character, Monoma is 18 in this

𝔰𝔦𝔡𝔢 𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢; this was meant to just be some long fic, but I find it easier to just divide it into 2 parts while I figure out how to write out the scene I actually wanted to get to. I got carried away. This is what I've been doing during holy week. My religious school would be ashamed of me. This has been proofread, but if there are still any mistakes, I apologize.

𝔭𝔞𝔯𝔱 𝔦𝔦.; incomplete/in progress.

Monoma had a shit week.

It all started on Monday when his school pants ripped conveniently from the back as he bent down to pick up his fallen notebook. They didn’t even look like they would rip! So how did they...? All he could hear during his inner turmoil and growing embarrassment were murmurs of pity, whispers of curiosity, and his homeroom teacher calling his name countless times to send him back to the dorms to change. Permission slip in hand and underwear out, he silently nodded and made his out, all while ignoring a burning sensation in his eyes and sudden dryness in his throat.

(Walking out the doors with his blazer tied around his waist, he swore he heard a familiar giggle and mockery coming from a smart-mouthed girl.)

Tuesday came bulldozing so suddenly that it ran over him. Well, really it was Yaoyorozu’s canon that almost ran him over.

The day, in general, was normal, none of his classmates made comments about the minor incident the day before, well, except for Y/N who asked if he sent his pants to be fixed or not. (He didn’t, so she demanded him to hand it over to her.) He didn’t go back to the dorms after their last class, since he has to carry out classroom cleaning duties after he accidentally pushed Bakugou into the mud last week. No, seriously, it was an accident. First off, he didn’t see the mud. Second off, he was messing around with Kaibara’s quirk, which spooked Nirengeki who was somehow walking close by to the hot-headed explosion man- and… well, Monoma mistook Bakugou for Honenuki. For some odd reason. How insulting to his intelligence and great memory skills.

So after such a tiring task of brooming, wiping, dusting, and inspecting, he expected to be knocked off his feet with whatever Kendo decided to cook for dinner, not Yaoyorozu’s canon. God, and he shrieked! Who fucking shrieks?! He’s 18, he’s not supposed to shriek! Unless you’re pegging him just right-

Wednesday only sucked because you canceled your biweekly study session in favor of hanging out with the girls in 3A. Now, regardless of what people still say, he has matured and slowly grew out his competitiveness and “jealousy” over class A, and doesn’t really have much issue with most of them (mainly because Shinsou somehow helped him become more “friendly”). However, how dare you choose the girls over him! You’ve never done that.

(And whether or not he was moody and pouty is just a hallucination of yours, he swears it.)

The only bad thing, if you could even call it that, that happened on Thursday was that it slipped his mind how much time he had left to use Tsuburaba’s quirk and lost against his good ol’ pal.

Friday though… Friday was just really weird and he hated how it only felt weird for him. Maybe it’s pent up frustration with how the week went? Maybe it’s the pouty baby in him still being butthurt over Wednesday’s missed study date? Maybe it’s you staring at his legs and ass? Maybe it’s the way you look so delectable in your hero outfit? Maybe- well, now he was just overthinking it, and he rarely ever does! He was tempted on asking Shinsou to, y’know, brainwash him so he could forget this weird feeling of him feeling weird.

Now comes Saturday.

Today is Saturday.

Today is 10:06 pm on a Saturday.

You’re over at his dorm for the already mentioned biweekly study date. He should feel happy, considering you brought over some snacks, ordered take-out from his favorite French restaurant, even played with his hair every time you guys had the 15-minute study break.

But he’s not happy. He’s not unhappy, but he isn’t happy? Again, the weird feeling he felt the day before hasn’t really left and it’s been crawling around his skin, only getting worse when he saw you coming in with pants.

It’s not supposed to make him feel not happy, but you usually come over with a cute skirt or dress, showing enough of your thighs and panties to keep him up at night, fantasizing about them wrapped around his head, suffocating him as he eats you out so delicately or ferociously, littered with his desperate bites and kisses, making him whine out in horny pain-

“Monoma?” you asked, eyebrows furrowed in worry as you ditch your phone to look over at your whining boyfriend. “You okay there?”

Shit. He must’ve gotten lost in his thoughts. “Yes, I am perfectly fine, darling.”

Now that’s weird. He’s speaking so softly, and he only ever does that after he’s cum at least a few times, or when he’s totally relaxed and ready to call it a night. Well, there are those few times where he lies and he speaks about the same.

Humming, you smile sweetly at him.

“Are you sure about that, baby boy?”

Oh, that sent a shudder through his body, his white shirt suddenly feeling too thick and his shorts feeling a bit constricting. In other words, he’s now turned on.

He stays quiet, however, because he feels like his voice will give away his actual feelings, whether it continues being soft or it decides to crack and show how he’s ready to give himself away to you.

“Neito. I asked you a question.”

“No, mommy! I-I mean, I don’t know…” He huffed out, embarrassment now outweighing his neediness. God, why did you have to pull out the mommy card?! You’re so wicked. Did you not know how horrible his week was and now you want to be mean to him?

“What do you mean by that, baby?”

“Well, I’ve had a horrible week, mommy! You should know that!”

“Don’t dare yell at me, Neito. Mommy’s trying to be patient and understanding, but if you’re going to just be a brat, then I should just leave you in time out, right?” Monoma gawked, his whole body and attention turned towards you as you got off of his bed, arms crossed and disappointment showing on your face. Really? You’re disappointed? Just as he opened his mouth to talk back, you spoke first.

“And here I brought one last gift for you. I’m here trying to be such a caring, doting girlfriend, and you start making assumptions about my efforts? Bad boy!”

Wait, gift? These were gifts? Oh! You… you were trying to comfort him? God, guess he was a bad boy.

Seeing him deflate, eyes losing whatever snark they possessed, you sigh and walk towards your bag near the door. And this made him stand up so quickly he lost his footing and slightly fell forward, shocked that you could be leaving already, which you aren’t. Startled by his sudden movement, you quickly take out a plastic bag and hold it in front of him to show the last gift.

It was quiet between you two, staring at each other before looking down at what you are holding.

“What is that?” He’s the first to speak, blinking as he tries to figure out what the dark blue item could possibly be. It’s pleated, though, so-

“Is it the skirt you’ll change into?” And you laugh, shaking your head as you walk back to the bed and sit.

“Not me, baby. You will change into it.” He’s going to be wearing a skirt?

Blinking once more in confusion, he giggles awkwardly before frowning.

“You’re joking, right?” Now it’s your turn to frown.

“No.” And you smile confidently. “I promise, if you wear the outfit in here, it’ll lead us to the actual last gift, hm?” You bat your eyelashes like a little girl asking her dad for a new Barbie doll, or whatever it is they bat their eyelashes for. You’re curious to see what he’ll do.

And you didn’t have to wait long for his decision to be made.

Sitting on your naked lap, thighs trembling in either overexertion or overstimulation, is a certain sweaty, defiled blond male with gorgeous teary, periwinkle eyes trying their best to focus down on you.

After he swiftly and elegantly changed into the outfit, it came to show on his mirror that this wasn’t some random crop top and skirt combo, but a whole schoolgirl uniform: apart from a cropped school girl top and the pleated navy skirt, there were white thigh highs and cute hair clips.

Turns out, you misunderstood his ‘subtle’ hints of some kinky schoolgirl skirt sex; you thought he was offering, with the way he’d bat his pretty eyelashes at you and stare at your skirt during lunch. Really, he was implying you stay with it on, somehow.

Regardless of who was wrong, the fact your pretty boy is squirming uncontrollably with your strap-on deep inside him is something you just have to engrave in your mind. Who knows when you’ll be able to buy another skirt his size? You can’t wait to render it useless.

“Y-You’ve been thin-thinking for too-oo long!” Monoma whines, bringing a hand to wipe away his bothersome tears he doesn’t want you to see, huffing at the end before moaning loudly as you roll your hips upwards, the tip of the dildo teasing his sweet spot.

“Mm, I didn’t say you can speak yet, did I? Guess mommy spoiled you too much.” Sneering, you shift on the bedsheets under you while placing your hands on his thighs, slowly raking your nails upwards. You try your best to avoid the white thigh-high socks, not wanting to make him ticklish and forget why you’re even touching him there.

Monoma shakingly gasps, squirming even more as he tries to have his pathetic, precum weeping dick grab the attention of either one of your hands but ends up staining the clothing covering it. Rolling your eyes, you smack the hairless skin hard enough to watch it quickly flush red and hear him groan, whether in pain, arousal or both.

“Stop it. You’re making me angry with how selfish you’re being. Isn’t mommy supposed to be satisfied first? Or did you forget our rules, baby?”

“N-no! No! No, I- no!” Is whining all that he can do? He’s been whining or moaning for the past hour, with the occasional groans or gasps. You don’t want him to only whine, you need to see him cry.

Cry prettily as he did on Monday when he thought no one was looking back at the dorms. Watch him struggle to keep his whimpers of humiliation at bay. Make him forget all about his silly pride and stupid competitiveness against a class who doesn’t really see him as a threat, but just a crazy motherfucker (or so says Hagakure.)

“No what, Neito? ‘No mommy! I do know the rules!’ or ‘No mommy! I forgot the rules!’ C’mon, baby. I thought you knew how to speak properly? Now you’re making Bakugou seem eloquent.”

Oh no, you’re upset at him. Monoma gasps in offense, though, at the implication that the anger and pride-driven Bakugou is better than him at speaking. Ouch, okay, that actually kind of hurt but it was kinda hot? Kinda not? What’s wrong with him?

Yeah, what’s wrong with him? You’re expecting him to go on with his speech of how Bakugou isn’t anywhere near his expertise and social skills, how he’s clearly more coherent than the other, or the typical ‘how dare you’ sentences. What you didn’t expect was him to whimper and clasp his hands together as if asking for forgiveness so soon.

“No mo-mommy! I do know! Th-The rules, th-that is! I know ‘em!”

“Then you’ll stop moving so much and let mommy continue marking you? If you do, and I’ll be repeating this for the last time, Neito, mommy might let you cum first, mm? Sounds good?”

“Ye-ES!” Okay, maybe you should��ve waited until he answered to land another slap on his thighs, although this one was close to his dick. Oh well, at least he’s making other sounds, but no struggle or tears.

Leaving nail marks around the pale, smooth skin, even carving your name on both thighs with light scratches, you’re in awe at how he’s trying not to move too much. Then again, he is your sweet baby boy, who thrives and gets off of making you proud of him and cumming because of him.

Lifting your eyes from the satisfying reddening skin to his face, you’re struck with awe again: finally, as if some god were listening to your wishes, you see him blinking rapidly as a new batch of tears quickly accumulate on his lashline and slowly trickle down his red cheeks before being furiously wiped away by him. Seems like this has been going on for a bit, seeing how his eyes are slightly red and his hands, clasped back together, if not tighter, look kind of wet. He didn’t want you to know he was trying not to cry and then failed so beautifully.

Gosh, and here you were expecting him to be a brat, to defy your authority over him, to challenge you like he usually does.

(If only you had some mind-reading quirk, you would’ve known he actually had been planning his next moves.)

“Good job, baby! You let mommy mark you so pretty with her hands, and look! Mommy’s name is on your thighs, so that next time you touch yourself you won’t forget who you belong to- I mean, who you’re a baby boy for.”

You’re basking in happiness, in pride, in complete bliss while he thanks you in small whimpers, hips twitching and hole clenching around your strap. Right, you forgot how long he has been cockwarming you; guess he deserves an even better award. He never manages to hold back for so long when sitting on your silicone cock.

Rubbing your palms around his thighs without moving your stare from his face, you command him to put his hands to use and lift the hem of the skirt, getting a good show of a new dribble of precum dropping heavily onto your pelvis. His dick is even shaking just as much as his body, pulsing even more than any other past encounter. It’s also competing against Kirishima’s red hair for the title of the “most red thing ever to exist”.

Monoma’s opening and closing his mouth, eyebrows furrowed in question and silent begging.

“You can speak now.”

“M-Mommy, you pro-hah-mised t-to make hn-me cu-um!”

“...Watch that tone, little boy.” You glowered before continuing. “Remind mommy what she promised you and explain why you deserve it.”

Now you’re being unfair again and Monoma doesn’t want to deal with how you’re suddenly trying to milk out his responses to the way you want. Crossing his arms and glaring down at you, he mutters, “Wh-why should I? Did y-you forget?”

Humming, you move your hands to his hips, rubbing your thumb on the cheap material covering them before beginning to lift him off, at least trying to. “Guess mommy should go back to her room since her baby boy decided to be a little bitch.”

“No!” That’s startling on both your ends hearing such a loud, anguished tone come out of him. Bottom lip trembling and quickly putting his hands to grip tightly at the skirt, Monoma holds back a sob.

“I’m so-sorry, mommy! ‘m not a-a, um, little b-bitch. I’m sorry.” Ending with a whisper, he slowly puts all of his body weight down on your lap, wanting to keep you there and make it impossible to lift him off, and hangs his head in defeat. (Really, it’s because of shame, but you’ll never hear that from him.)

Do you not realize how hard he’s shaking? He can feel his heartbeat in his ears and hear it from his brain. He’s all sweaty and flushed red, his pupils dilate every time you look deep into them. He’s seen the way your eyes light up when glancing at his weeping dick, and he loves how wet it looks, it feels, it sounds, whenever he shifts.

Most importantly, other than his neglected manhood slowly turning a shade of purple, his prostate has been teased for so long that he just wants to ride you hard enough to find bruises tomorrow and hypothetically ‘destroy your cock’.

“If you’re sorry, you’ll tell me what I want to hear. I’m not going to repeat what I asked for.”

Gulping to ease down the shame building up in his body, he lifts his head enough to catch your gaze before softly responding.

“Mommy, um, promised I-I get to cum… she’ll m-make me cum if I-I stopped movin’ s’ much.” Goddamn it, Monoma, get yourself together! “I d-deserve this be-because I stopped. Was a g-good ba-um, baby boy.” He loves hates it when you make him do this, even if not often.

Satisfied with the answer you’ll probably only ever hear once and as clear as possible, you nod your head.

“Then fuck yourself on my cock, Neito.”

No need to repeat yourself. Every little noise he tried so hard to hold back, every twitch and shudder he tried so hard to subdue, every twist of his face to show off the agonizing pleasure is quickly overcoming his insides and dick.

He’s whimpering so loudly, so shamelessly, as he bounces greedily on your lap. Loud and wet skin slapping against each other, and you at first thought, through every lost huff of air, that it’d be his ass connecting to your lube-covered thighs. Instead, your eyes shift towards his crying cock, the way spurts and spurts of precum are left on your lower abdomen, how this furiously blushing extremity keeps slapping itself onto you with every one of his desperate bounces. It’s even wetter than moments ago, you would’ve thought it’d be lube.

Monoma opens his eyes, which seemed to have closed at some point, and looks down at your face, huffing out airy whines of ‘what’, not knowing what you’re looking at. His dick has been wet with his precum for the past hour, so what could be new?

Until he looks down at himself and is mesmerized with how his dick, heavy with unreleased cum and flushed with blood, is tainting and slapping against your beautiful skin with his horny juice- wait, how stupid is he to refer to his precum as ‘horny juice?’

Stupid enough to forget to close his mouth and make his built up drool mix in with the mess below, his whimpers and whiny moans turning into high-pitched cries of your name and loud moans, a normal person would worry about their neighbors. The more he stares at himself, the louder he gets and the sloppier his hips gyrate.

Until he suddenly feels the tip of the toy punch against his prostate.

“Ahn! AGAIN! A-aga-again! Nngain!” Monoma screams, eyes crossing and welling up with old and new built-up tears, ready to drip down. He’s gripping and pulling the hem of his skirt in all directions, his hands never staying still even when a light rip could be heard upon a harsh pull. He recreates the same move, thighs quivering and tensing, begging to be closed. Each accurate hit to his sensitive spot forces out a louder cry and threatens his tears to let loose.

His movements get sloppier and lazier. Seems like he’s tiring out, which isn’t good. Sure, you’re hoping to make him cry with pretty tears and ugly sobs, but you were also hoping to make him do so repeatedly. Then again, if he’s tired out, there wouldn't be much fight or snark from him and maybe you can still make him cry freely.

Good thing you know how to execute fantastic sneak attacks against him.

Under the pillow where your head is situated, you reach for a not-so-small device that kind of looks like a walkie-talkie. Monoma sees this when trying to focus his sight, tensing up at the thought that maybe you were recording this for some benefit or blackmail. But why would you want to blackmail your own boyfriend? Had he done something not to your liking?

The answer came in the form of loud buzzing and sudden quaking starting from deep inside him.

“Wh-wh-wha-what is- hnngh, st-sto-op!” Monoma wails out, almost falling onto your body with how powerful the vibrations are churning hot inside of him. His vision is getting blurry, blocked by the tears that finally, finally are let go and kiss his cheeks with every hot trail left behind.

“You, oh, want me to stop?” He can kind of see your wicked grin, the mockery in your tone and amusement oozing out making him let even more tears fall. Why would you want to stop?

“St-sto-op?! No? N-no! No! P-pluh-plea- nnnghh!”

Ah, so he’s gone dumb. He doesn’t realize he said to stop. Well, now you can either continue watching him break on your lap and admire the waterfall of precum and fresh tears and make him continue working for his orgasm; or, you can tease him some more while turning up the intensity of the toy, now that it’s pleasuring you for once. The way it tickles your clit is enough to make your panting much more noticeable and thighs tense. You wonder how a setting at 4 could already drag out such reactions from the blond male. Enticed now, you decide to go with the second choice.

“P-pluh-plea…? Didn’t think y-you’d be stupid! Where did m-my smart-mouthed baby go? Ugh.”

“N-n’where m’mmy! ‘m h-here- Fuck! Fuck, pl-please! Please! Mo-more? Nngh!”

“You’re slurring, b-baby. But, you a-asked politely.” You hover your thumb over the ‘+’ button, hips grinding upward to drag out some more tears, more cries, more whimpers as you melt into the bed.

“Mommy’s g-gonna count to 10, al-alright? Ugh, then you’ll c-cum, mm. Understand?”

You’ve never seen so much eagerness come from Monoma before, well, not unless it’s because he knows he’ll win at something or get to prove his worth even more. But the way he nods reminds you of a bobblehead: empty in the head, cute to look at.

“G-good. Don’t forget t-to keep riding m-mommy’s big, th-thick cock.” You then lower your voice, sending shivers down his spine even with how hot he feels. “Understand?”

You don’t wait to see more of his eager nods. You press down on the button until it reaches the maximum intensity, which makes your hips jolt up so harshly, thrusting the silicon toy back up to him that it’s enough to make him squeal. Now that’s new.

As much as you’re enjoying how satisfying the stimulation is on your wet cunt, you can’t help but moan out loud Monoma’s name as the boy’s reduced to short-lived squeals and rapid hiccups, so rapid that you’re beginning to think he might be hyperventilating. Worried, you bring your thumb to reduce the intensity before feeling him grind so desperately on your lap. So without any more distractions or hesitations, you quickly begin the countdown.

“Ten.” Monoma repeats with a strained moan, his hands flailing about as he tries to grab purchase onto something, letting go of his ‘forgotten’ skirt.

“N-nine.” Monoma finally plants his trembling hands onto your shoulders, pinning you down enough to give enough strength to his arms. Hovering over you, you frown at his skirt-covered dick.

“Ei-eight.” Monoma tenses his thighs as much as possible to stop the shaking. Even if it didn’t do much, he begins riding you again with more vigor and desperation than previously. A high-pitched whine of your name quickly leaves him as his sensitive dick receives friction from the fabric covering it, the stain that had dried over time reviving as more precum marks it.

“Seven- shit.” Monoma’s trying to look down at you. He can’t really see much of anything, not with his tears never stopping or his mind not setting back into an intellectual phase. He can barely think to say anything else but lewd chants of your name and ‘please’, ‘more’, ‘faster’. It’s not until he moans out a timid “f-fu-ugh- fuck!” that you pay mind to the rapidly growing heat in your stomach.

“Six! Fuck, Neito!” Monoma’s continuous chants and growing volume suddenly sound babbled as he drools down on you, his saliva hitting your chin before you growl up at him. No words are exchanged as he swallows the liquid that had accumulated, although with difficulty. His thighs are beginning to burn and shake with exhaustion, quaking even worse than when he was cockwarming you. His riding turned into hard bouncing, finally stealing your breath away physically and providing some movement on the other end of the silicone toy to press harder onto your clit.

“Fi-five!” Monoma’s eyes cross for the second time, staying longer in that position as he chokes on his scream, all because you’re beginning to meet up with your own thrusts. Your feet planted on the bed as you let go of the control for the vibrator, gripping onto his hips tightly to match him with you. You’re beginning to moan so sweetly, gasping out his name loud enough for him to-

“Cl-clo-ose! F-ugh-fuck! Fuck! Clo-oooose!”

“Ho-hold it! Hold i-it, baby, a-almost the-there!” God, the heat is growing so deep in you that you know this will be violent.

“Four- shiiit.” Monoma’s sobbing now, ever since you told him to hold it. Mission accomplished, so far. He’s blinking rapidly, trying to get rid of the tears and allow him to actually see you. He needs to see your lewd faces, ignoring the fact he is probably rivaling yours. The intense need to cum is building up far too quickly for him to even catch up and he just wants to cum right here, right now. But if he does, you’ll punish him. So, he tries his best to hold it.

“Three! Three, Neito!” Monoma’s trying so hard to not cum, to not even think about it, but how can he if his prostate is being overstimulated and his cock keeps receiving such familiar friction, enough to make him sob even louder. He’s not going to make it.

“T-two! Lif-ft your sk-skirt!” Monoma can’t or else he’ll fall on you. But you’re grabbing onto him so hard that he hasn’t felt the need to support himself on your shoulders. Using whatever energy he has left, he throws himself up to his old sitting position, making his bouncing sloppier and unsynchronized with your thrusts. He quickly grabs onto the wet hem, biting his lip as he tries to swallow and control his sobs. Lifting it, he’s rewarded with the sight of his slick covered cock, so red and noticeably throbbing that his eyes slightly roll to the back of his head.

“One! Fuck, one!” Monoma’s mouth opens wide, his throat constricting as every choked moan and cry tries to escape while his ass begins to tighten alarmingly fast around the toy. He jumps when he feels something wrap around him, quickly looking down at himself again to see, then feel, you viciously stroke him. And that does it.

“Cum.”

Monoma gasps as he relaxes his thighs and lets go. One more hit to his prostate and he’s…

He’s quiet.

Your eyes are as wide as dinner plates as you watch him reach his orgasm: on you, in all his beautiful glory, is Monoma Neito. A guy whose back is arched at a certain angle you’re sure it’s uncomfortable. A guy whose nipples are completely being seen through the drenched crop top. A guy whose mouth is leaking trails of drool, but not as much as his eyes are leaking streams of unstoppable tears. A guy whose face is so red and sweaty, his bangs are striking to the skin and his eye color pops out more. A guy whose only warning of his cum leaving his body, as much as his soul had, is to roll his eyes so violently to the back of his head and convulse forward.

You forget about your orgasm as you try your best to support his body in the current position, not wanting him to fall on you or backward. Well, maybe you should’ve let him fall onto you.

His cum spurts seem to be gold medal Olympians in ‘how far can we reach’ and ‘how much can we be’. The first one barely misses your eyes, but the second one hits you on the forehead. With each spurt leaving his twitching cock, Monoma hiccups whiney and loud words of gratitude and mercy, hips jumping up, torso jolting forward. His knuckles are white upon the unforgivable grip he has on his absolutely ruined skirt, slowly but surely being dirtied with each load forced out of him with the still-buzzing toy inside him.

This whole scene is enough to remind you about turning down the intensity of the vibrations while grinding slowly, both to help milk him out his incredibly overwhelming high and to bring you back to the tip of paradise.

By the time he’s done, he nearly collapses on you but first lifts himself, somehow, off of the toy before leaning back onto your lifted thighs. He’s still twitching, the color of his face slowly coming back as his eyes dry up from the tears. The socks have moved a bit down on his legs and most of the pretty hello-kitty themed hair clips are barely fastened on his hair. You’re pretty sure some are littered around the bed.

Monoma’s eyeing his mess curiously and taking in a cum-covered you before he scoops up some of his cum, tastes himself and you both moan softly. You turn the toy off, still rolling your hips as much as possible to ride out your harsh, hot, and wet orgasm. You’re pretty sure you somehow squirted, but that doesn’t matter too much right now.

Because the moment Monoma came back to his senses and made eye contact with you, you find yourself living in a slow-motion picture: with a shaky hand, he uses the same fingers to write down his first name before scooping up as much of his excess cum and, without any warning, moves forward to thrust his fingers in your mouth, dragging the pads of his fingertips down onto your tongue as you swallow.

Pulling his fingers out slowly while giggling breathlessly, his signature smirk grows onto his blissed-out face.

“H-how do I ta-taste, m-mommy?”

#bnha smut #mha smut #monoma neito smut #monoma smut #sub bnha #monoma x reader #monoma neito x reader #ლ; blasphemy #𝖒𝖔𝖓𝖔𝖒𝖆

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katierosedreams2 · 2 years

Text

A weekend to remember 4

I woke up the next morning to the sound of my alarm going off. I could hardly hear it over the sissy hypno playing in my ears. I can't believe I dreamt about sucking cock last night. My panties were wet with precum. I’m not even that alarmed about it anymore. I still don’t want this, but I find it harder to fight. I even loved that the cute lingerie and heels that I slept in last night made me feel pretty and girly.

I wasn’t even in a rush to stop the hypno, but I paused it. My brain rushed, trying to grasp what had happened to me in such a short time. I have to go back to school today. I’ve become a feminized, slutty, cock-sucking girly sissy since the last time I was there.

As much as I don’t want that to be true, last night I totally came in my panties just from sucking Dylan’s big dick! Natalie delighted in telling everyone at the party! I was so humiliated and embarrassed as she made me stand there in front of everyone dressed like a slutty girl. Completely covered in Dylan’s cum, it still dripping down my face and out my nose, down my neck onto my crop top. While everyone laughed at what a slutty girl I was and how I came in my panties just from sucking cock.

Natalie made me keep Dylan’s cum on my face until we got home. She posted all about it on Instagram. If everyone at school doesn’t already know, they will today.

After taking a shower, I found Natalie going through my clothes, looking for the outfit I would wear today. She was dressed in a cute short white pleated skirt, a light pink crop top, and light pink blocky heels. Her makeup was already done, she looked so pretty.

“What do you think, Taylor? Is this cute enough for your coming out day at school?” She said, holding up a short black long sleeve vinyl dress. “I was thinking this, plus matching black vinyl thong and bra lingerie, and the 4 inch black vinyl thigh high boots! It should barely pass the school dress code but would also still tell all the boys what a slut you are! It’s perfect!” Natalie said so cheerfully! She seemed genuinely excited for me to go to school today and completely humiliated myself in front of absolutely everyone I know.

“Natalie, I can’t wear this to school, I might get in trouble. Plus, I can’t have everyone seeing me like this. It will ruin me forever!” I tried my best to protest, but for some reason I wasn’t feeling as worried as I thought I should be. I was actually kind of excited, and I loved the outfit she picked. I was perfect! OH MY GOD! Why am I thinking this way!!!

“Oh don’t worry your pretty little sissy head. You’re going to look so pretty! I bet you the teachers won’t even say a thing! It’s too sensitive of times with trans people for them to even be aloud to make a single comment. And let’s be honest, this outfit is to die for! Don’t you think sissy? Do you like it? Does it make you think dirty thoughts?” She said with a big grin on her face.

She was right. It did. I was so focused on it, I didn’t even argue any more. I just shyly nodded my head in agreement. It’s almost like I don’t have control of my body anymore, and I’m losing control of my mind!

“That’s what I thought, sissy girl! Then it’s settled, you’ll wear this! Now let’s go do your makeup and hair! We need to hurry, we are running late!” She said as she put the dress on the bed and rushed me to the mirror to do my makeup.

She wanted to keep it simple and feminine, with long eyelashes, but a more natural look. As she worked, she had me remove my cute French tip nails. She said she wanted to change it up, so I put on gold sparkly nails instead. She really wanted to draw attention to the fact that I'm not just dressed like a girl, I am one.

I felt pretty as I looked in the mirror before I got dressed. I hate to admit it, but I really do look just like a girl. As I got dressed I was starting to feel kind of sexy. My little tiny girly dick almost disappeared under the vinyl of my thong panties. My body looked like a total slutty girl dressed in my vinyl lingerie and thigh-high boots. And then I covered it up with the dress, I didn't feel much less conservative. I feel confident, happy, sexy, aroused, and comfortable dressed like this. I grabbed a large matching black vinyl tote bag to put my books in and Natalie let me borrow a cute little Louis Vuitton bag for me to put my phone and stuff in.

As we arrived at school my heart raced. I was filled with fear, humiliation, embarrassment, sadness, and devastation. My whole world has changed since I was last here. I just felt it all magnify as I got out of Natalie's car and stood there, looking down at my outfit, having the reality of what was happing and had happened set in. I looked like a sexy girl, and I was going to school. I’m not a girl, I’m a boy! A straight boy! Or at least I was when I left here. Now I’ve lived as a girl and even sucked cock three times. It only took 48 hours of being a girl for sucking dick to make my tiny little clitty cum in my panties.

Natalie looked at me with no sympathy for my situation, in an annoyed tone she said “Come on sissy! Let’s go! Standing there isn’t going to change the fact that you're now a girly cock-sucking slut! It never will, you’ll be that forever!! Now stop standing there, be a big girl, and go face the whole school as the new and improved slut you are!”

I reluctantly hung my head, and followed her into school. My heels clicking loudly, drawing attention to me. The boys and girls all looked at me, most recognized me from all of Natalie's posts. Some didn’t and you could see they were puzzled as to who the new slutty girl was. Some boy's cat called as I walked through the halls “Hey sexy!” “Want to suck my dick?” “Check out the new slut!” “Hey baby girl, want to go out?”. Some girls yelled “You go girl!” “ Such a cute, sexy, girly outfit, you look so natural in it!” And “I always thought you were a sissy! You're so pretty, it’s great to see you being true to you!” I was filled with embarrassment and humiliation.

And sure enough, Natalie was right. All day not a single teacher or staff member said a single thing. They looked at me weird, especially when they were taking roll and saw a girl where a “boy” usually sits. They would just clear their throat, “Taylor?” they would call out. “Here.” I’d reply. Hearing my own voice would remind me just how much like all the girls I sound. How I don't, and never did sound like a boy.

All of the girls were so nice to me, most of them never used to talk to me. They were so supportive that I “came out”. They said they always suspected I was a girly gay sissy boi. That I look better as a girl, especially since my dick is so tiny it totally disappears in my panties. No woman would ever want me. And now, thanks to Natalie, they all know just how sexy I look with a cock in my mouth, how pretty and natural it is! Also, that I must love it, since after all, I did cum just from sucking Dylan’s dick.

They loved talking about that, plus all sorts of other girly things. Hair, makeup, nails, clothes, and what boys I thought were cute. BOYS!? I don’t think any boys are cute! Or at least I haven’t given it any thought.

Speaking of boys, they seemed more interested in me than the girls did! They kept cat calling me and saying all sorts of dirty things to me, like how I was a slutty cock sucker and how they can't wait for me to suck their dicks. Or how they would like to fuck me, that I was always meant to be a girl. They would grab or slap my ass when I walked by them in the halls. I couldn’t help but sway my hips as I walked, my heels clicking, and the sound of one slap on my vinyl dressed ass after another echoed through the hall. My plump girly butt was sore and red from so many boys slapping it.

I was totally humiliated and embarrassed, but part of that was because I kind of liked it. I really did feel like a whore, designed to please cock, and it was kind of turning me on. I couldn’t help it! I don’t want this, but somehow do I?! I didn’t even try to stop them from grabbing, slapping my ass or talking dirty to me. I just look down and take it. Why am I so OK with this?!

I was walking to meet Natalie in the parking structure after school. Reflecting on the crazy day I had. Thinking about all of the boys who want to use me like a slut. How I looked like a cock craving sissy in this outfit, how they were turned on by me. All of their big dicks, desperate to fill me with their cum.

Wait! No! I don’t want to think about this! Oh my god what’s wrong with my brain!? Why do I keep thinking this way!? I like girls! They are so pretty, beautiful, and sexy! I love their clothes, their makeup, hair, and nails! I want to look just like them and be a girl too! NO I DON’T! OH MY GOD! IM FREAKING OUT! What’s wrong with my head?! Why do I keep thinking this way?!?!

A flash from Natalie's phone and the sound of her voice broke me from my uncontrollable break down. “Hey girlfriend! Oh that’s a cute pic of you! You look like you're totally freaking out. Did you spend the day surrounded by too many cute boys with big dicks, wishing you could please them? Haha and it was only your first day as the real you, as a slutty sissy girl!” She said with a wicked grin on her face. It was like she knew I hated it, but also was struggling with the sissy hypnosis taking control of my head.

I tried to fight back the tears that were forming, I couldn’t seem to control my mind much more. “It’s been a hard day Natalie. The hypnosis your making me listen to is really messing with my mind! My life is just getting more ruined, everyone now thinks I’m a gay sissy girl who wants to be a slut. The teachers didn’t say anything, but I could tell they thought the same. This day has just added to the whole weekend that feels like a nightmare I can’t control or wake up from! Can we please just go?”

“Aw sweetie, it’s OK. You’ll soon get used to this. And everyone already thought that about you, they were just happy to see you being what you're meant to be! Of course, we are going to leave, but first you need to go see someone.” She replied in a sweet way.

“Who?!” I said confused and concerned, just wanting this day to end. “Billy, you know Marks' friend, the one who’s also a big hunk? Well, Mark told him all about you, and apparently so did Dylan. So Billie asked me today if you’d meet him at his car in the corner of the parking structure, and I of course, said yes! Don’t worry sissy girl, I hear he’s really hung! So let’s go!” She said excitedly as she grabbed my hand and started to hurry toward Billy’s car.

I hardly had time to pick up my bag as she pulled me away. Our heels echoed through the structure, almost like fireworks. I was trying to grasp what was happening and why I was trying to walk as sexy as I could. Am I? AM I EXCITED TO SUCK ANOTHER COCK? OH MY GOD, I THINK A PART OF ME IS!! After all, he is such a real man, he probably wants a real slut to please him.

As we approached, Natalie was filming on her phone. Billy got out of his car, he was a tall, strong man, much like Mark. He makes me look so short, skinny, weak, small, feminine, and girly next to him. “Hey Taylor, I heard you're a sissy girl now. You look good, real good. I never paid much attention to you before, but shit, you look exactly like a girl, a sexy one too!” He said with his deep manly voice. He seemed sincere and aroused as he spoke.

For some reason I felt complimented by him, and was strangely enjoying what he was saying. “Thank you.” I said, blushing a little, sounding like a girl, especially compared to him. “I hear your quite a slut, a real natural at giving head. Why don’t you show me?” He said as he unzipped his pants right there. I looked around, I only saw Natalie filming with a big smile on her face, “Go on sissy!” She commanded.

Slowly, I got down on my knees in front of him, covered from the rest of the parking lot by his car. I reached up, my gold nails flashing in the light as I pulled his underwear down, exposing his big dick. “That’s what a real man's cock looks like, not like your little nub! Please his dick, do to him what you’ll never get! Be his girly slut!” Natalie encouraged.

I couldn’t help it. I leaned in and gave it a kiss. And then a lick, and then I put the head of his massive penis in my mouth. It was so much bigger than mine! She’s right. I don’t deserve any pleaser, my little dicks too small to ever get sucked by a girl. I’m meant to be the slutty girl sucking cock. I’m meant to be a cock sucker!

I started to think this was true as I sucked. All the way down, licking his balls, then all the way back to the tip. Worshiping this cock, giving it as much pleaser as I could. I was feeling so turned on, It felt so right to have a dick in my mouth. I can feel my tiny little inferior useless micro cock starting to leak precum into my panties. I just moaned as sucked and sucked this wonderful cock, letting it fill me with pleasure. My small girly hand with my pretty glittery gold nails wrapped around the shaft of his long thick dick. Rubbing it as I sucked and licked the head of his cock. I was lost in the moment of being a slut for him, trying desperately to be the perfect little cock-sucking whore!

He grabbed the back of my head and shoved his dick all the way down my throat, choking me. My face pressed against his strong abs, his balls resting on my chin. As he pumped load after load of cum down my throat, filling my stomach with his sperm, he said “Yeah slut, swallow my cum! Gag on my cock while I force my cum down your slutty girly throat! Oh yeah! You were meant to be a cock sucker!!”

It was so arousing! I couldn’t believe how sexy it was, I couldn’t believe I was such a sissy slut as his cum filled my mouth. I tried to swallow every drop, but I couldn’t. It spilled out of my mouth, onto my chin as I tried to catch my breath.

Natalie said “I’m very impressed, sissy! I loved how comfortable you are already with worshiping a superior alpha cock. Why don’t you thank Billy and then we can finally go home.”

I got up slowly, trying to be sexy, as Billy zipped back up his pants. “Thank you Billy for letting me suck your cock and swallow your cum!” I said, sounding like a girl in a porno. “Haha you bet sissy bitch. You can worship my dick anytime!” He chuckled as he got into his car.

Natalie and I walked back to her car, some of Billy’s cum still on my face. I didn’t like how I felt; happy, sexy, aroused, and complete. Today at school was not what I thought was going to happen when I left here with Natalie on Friday. I still have the rest of the week to go.

-Katierosedreams OG Cap

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tangledstarlight · 4 years

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Hey! So I saw the coffee shop au prompts and am absolutely certain that no 14 - The coffee shop I work at is like a queer hotspot, but I don’t want to assume with you, and I’m afraid one of these days my co-workers will just ask you, because I keep going on about you - was made for Willex and that you could write something awesome about that <3

14. The coffee shop I work at is like a queer hotspot, but I don’t want to assume with you, and I’m afraid one of these days my co-workers will just ask you, because I keep going on about you

ahh hello hi!! this kinda got a little long and didn’t have quite as much of the ‘is he isn’t he’ of the prompt BUT it was very fun to write so! also you’re right it’s a very willex situation!!

coffee shops aus!

Alex liked to pride himself on being professional. At being able to keep his head when the cafe got chaotic — outside of the cafe was another story, but that was beside the point — to do his job no matter who came through the door.

Though he wasn’t exactly surrounded by stiff competition. Luke got distracted by lyrics in his head and Reggie was constantly trying to get people to try his newest creations. Alex liked it best when Flynn was on shift with him, at least there was less milk on the floor at the end.

But the point is, Alex was professional. He didn’t get distracted. He did his job to a level just short of exceptional and kept his shit together.

Except for every Monday afternoon at 2:35 and Thursday mornings at 9:21.

“I’ll take over the register,” he says to Luke, nudging him out of the way at 3:30.

“That time already, huh?” Luke wiggles his eyebrows as he steps backwards, “You gonna finally just ask him out today?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Alex mutters, hoping that the heat in his cheeks isn’t too noticeable or at least dies down in 3 minutes. But his eyes dart to the door as the little bell sounds above it. Oh he’s early.

Alex runs his hands over his apron and bites his lip, eyes darting down to the registers screen to at least look like he wasn’t waiting for him.

“Hey.”

Sucking in a breath Alex looks up slowly, taking in first the tie dyed crop top — and fuck it’s like he’s trying to make him combust or something — and then elbow pads and brown hair over his shoulders and — Alex blows out his breath — then he’s looking at Willie’s smiling face.

There is nothing Alex likes more in the world then the sight of Willie smiling at him.

“Hi,” a heart beat passes and Alex remembers he’s at work and has to be professional, “Your usual?”

“You know it!”

“That’ll be uh, $5.20. Please,” he taps at something on the screen, fingers moving more on muscle memory then actually paying attention. Willie hands him the money and Alex fumbles with the change and, from the corner of his eye he’s pretty sure Luke is laughing at him. Which okay, might be fair given how much they tease him about Julie, but this is different. Everyone knows that Julie is into Luke and Luke is into Julie, the only ones who don’t know is them

Alex has no idea if Willie likes him. If he’s even into guys, let alone anxious drummers.

Willie raps his knuckles on the counter top after he hands him his change, grinning at him. And lingering.

A best passes where Alex tries to think of something to say. Fuck what did he normally say to customers to make small talk? Should he ask about the weather? Alex’s eyes dart to the window opposite the counter, clear skies and sunshine. Okay, okay, he can talk about the weather.

Alex opens his mouth at the same moment that Willie does to, their words stumbling over each other and Alex blushes while Willie laughs. And he takes back his earlier comment, he likes the sound of Willie’s laugh more than the sight of his smile.

“You go,” Willie laughs, head shaking and there’s a strand of hair across his cheek that Alex desperately wants to brush away.

“No, no you go. I was just gonna say the weather’s nice,” he shrugs one shoulder and does his best to tune out the groan he can hear from Luke.

“Oh uh, yeah it’s it nice,” Willie nods, looking over his shoulder as if he hadn’t noticed the weather on his trip in and then he’s looking back at Alex. There’s still a smile on his lips, but it looks more nervous now that it did before and oh god has he done something wrong? Fuck. Fuck.

Maybe he’d overheard him last week talking to Reggie about if his piercing meant something or where just for the aesthetic. Or god even on Monday when Julie had come in 5 minutes before him and told Alex to be warned, because he was wearing a crop top and had his hair up that day and then ran away giggling the second he walked through the door. Or there was a few weeks ago when Luke had drawn that heart on his cup and a note that ––

“So uh I was wondering if maybe you wanted to get coffee with me sometime? Somewhere you don’t work, obviously. Or even dinner if you wanted. I’m flexible.”

“What?” Alex blinks at him, not sure he’s heard the question correctly. “Huh?”

“I was asking if you wanted to um go out with me?” Willie says it a little more slowly and Alex just blinks again. His mind has gone blank. He’s short circuiting.

“You –– I –– dinner–– huh?”

“Oh I uh hey no if you don’t want to that’s fine I was just––” Willie starts shaking his head, palms flat on the counter top like he’s about to push away and something slightly sharp pokes into his bicep.

“No! I mean yes! I–– yes!” Alex doesn’t mean to shout it, but judging by the multiple pairs of eyes now looking in their direction he’s pretty sure the whole cafe is now witnessing the most awkward ask out of the century. He sucks in a breath and smiles, “I’d love to go out with you sometime.”

“Great! I’ll uh text you some details?” A look of confusion must cross over his face because Willie laughs again, eyes glancing over at Luke, who’s standing at the other end of the counter with Willie’s drink and pretending not to be watching them. “Someone left your number on my cup a few weeks ago. At least I think it said your name, the writing was pretty shitty.”

Alex gets momentarily distracted by the cute way he wrinkles his nose as he says it, and he puts aside throwing something at Luke for later to laugh slightly, “Then I guess I’ll wait for you text.”

It feels like the cringiest thing he could possibly say, but Willie smiles at him, warm and wide and his eyes crinkle just a little and Alex can’t really care. Later, long after Willie has left with his drink and the mid-afternoon rush has finished, Luke drapes an arm around his shoulders and grins.

“Told you he liked you. Man, Reggie and Flynn are gonna be pissed they missed this.”

And Alex has a response on the tip of his tongue, when his phone vibrates in his pocket and without thinking he pulls it out. There’s a text from an unknown number on his screen and all thoughts of work or Luke leave his head as he sees the little ‘x’ at the end of the text.

#ask #fighttoshine #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willie #jatp #willex #*fics #*prompts

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living-dead-parker · 5 years

Text

Say So - P.P

Summary: All Peter has to do is just say so. Inspired by Say So by Doja Cat.

Warnings: referenced sexual activity, flash, cussing

Word Count: 1.6k

Part Two

"Parker probably jerks it to her picture every night-"

"I do not-"

Flash turns to Ned, "I think he jacks it to her. Tell me I'm wrong-"

"Who jacks it to who?"

Your voice fills the open space as you return to your group with MJ, plates of food and drinks in your hands. Betty followed close behind. You sit next to Flash and Betty. MJ sits next to Peter, with Ned on his other side. Peter blushes when he looks at you, taking in every inch of your appearance. Your hair, flowing in the night breeze, all the colors shining on your skin. The pink cropped top complimenting the ripped denim shorts you wear and the black converse. You look beautiful to Peter.

"Looks like Parker here has a little crush on someone," Flash says, sparing little to none of Peter's dignity.

"Oh he does?" you ask softly, giving him a questioning look. Peter shakes his head, trying to convince you it's not what it might sound like. You don't have all the backstory.

"Can we talk about something else?" Peter cuts in, not wanting to discuss any of his feelings at the moment. You smirk but ultimately nod. Now's not the time, but you'll get him talking eventually. "LA's been awesome so far, Y/N."

"Yeah, thanks for bringing us out here," MJ also states, beginning to dig into her veggie burger. "I'm not fond of mega-corporations and all, but I am excited for Disney tomorrow," she adds. You chuckle, expecting something like that from her.

You'd decided to take a trip with your friends, and Flash sort of clawed his way into the trip. You didn't really mind, so long as he behaved. Which for the most part, he has. You've only been here for two days and you have another five days before you all have to go home. So, tomorrow's plan is Disney day one. At the moment, you're all at Pacific Park, getting some food in your system before going on some rides again.

Eventually, you all finish eating and everyone decides to go on some rides or play some games. Betty and Ned got on the Ferris wheel, MJ and Flash got on the sea dragon, leaving you and Peter to play some Cat Rack games. Thanks to Peter's powers, he was able to successfully knock down three wooden cats with the black ball in no time, winning a jumbo prize.

"Pick your prize," the man behind the booth tells Peter but never removing his eyes off of you. A small giggle escapes your lips when Peter notices. He looks back at you. "Which one do you want?" he asks you. You turn around to look at all the prizes. Then, your eyes land on a huge whale plushy. With a smile, you point to it. The guy behind the booth nods, moving over to grab it.

"So, you out here liking girls?" you ask Peter when the guy is busy not invading your space. Peter nearly chokes on his own spit, not expecting the sudden change in tone.

"I like you, we were talking about you," he states defensively. You playfully roll your eyes at him.

"You know, for two people who like each other, we sure are single."

"Y/N, come on," he groans. He looks over to see the guy still struggling to get the whale. "Don't be like this, please."

"I have wants and needs, Peter," you tell him, leaning against the table where the balls have been placed. The urgency in your voice being noted. "Why can't you just admit that you want to be with me and I want to be with you? There's nothing wrong with us being together. Hell," you exclaim at the end, but you lean in close before looking around. "I suck your dick on the regular and you're constantly telling me you love me and kiss me right after it and you still wanna be just friends?"

"See, you can't even say that out loud-"

"Because I'm not gonna be announcing to the world that I suck your dick, Parker. Look, I just want to be with you and you want to be with me. So what's the problem?"

Peter's quiet as the guy returns with the whale. However, you see a big unicorn right behind where the whale was and you decide you want it. So, you hand the guy another five and hand the balls to Peter. He looks at you with a playful glare before knocking down all three wooden cats with a quickness. The guy looks shocked but asks you what you want. Peter is quick to point to the unicorn.

"I'm scared people will think that I'm not good enough for you-"

"Screw what others think, you'd be dating me, not the whole world."

"But you're my world, so in a sense-"

"That was cheesy," you state matter of factly. "But seriously, I just want to be with you and I think you're more than good enough for me. Shouldn't that be all that matters?"

Peter stares at you in silence, only looking away briefly to see the guy finally unhook the unicorn from its place. He sighs, knowing that you're right. Plus, he always feels his best when he's with you.

"Here ya go," the guy says, handing you the unicorn. You gladly take it, holding the two large stuffed animals. He smirks at you but before he can make a move, you're grabbing Peter's hand and pulling him away to an empty nearby bench.

"Peter, I got options, apparently," you joke as you nod over to the guy behind the booth who keeps looking over at you. "But I just want you. Our late nights under the covers, our stupid midday adventures, our naps, and all-nighters. I want it all with you."

Peter looks up at you, standing up and sitting next to you. He smiles at you, pulling you in closer to him. He lifts your legs and places them over his as his hands move to your waist. "I want it too," he states boldly. "I mean, it is a little messed up I keep dragging this on when all we want is to actually be together," he continues, pulling you so much closer to him. You're basically on his lap at this point, arms quick to wrap around him. "Plus, I really fucking like you-"

"Incorrect," you cut in all of a sudden. "You love me," you continue, smirking at the man. "Unless it's only when you're fucking some part of me that you love me. Is that what it is?" you ask jokingly.

"Please don't start," Peter groans. "I cannot handle this-"

"Well deal with it, sweetie," you giggle, leaning in to press a kiss to his cheek. His cheeks tint red at the feeling, but he loves it. "You're gonna have to put up with my jokes now that we're together-"

"Together? I haven't even asked you yet-"

"That implies that a question was in question," you say, giggling at the last bit. Peter rolls his eyes, leaning in to rest his head on your shoulder. "And while never asked, I already answered yes to it, so we're officially official. Unless you don't want to, but wasn't the whole spackle about wanting to be together? Basically, unless you say no, we're together now."

"I'm fine with that, but can I just say, you're just like your father."

"Ew," you groan, leaning in closer to Peter. "Don't ever compare me to that basic bitch," you tell him jokingly before leaning in for a kiss. He kisses back, but your eyes widen mid-kiss. You pull away. "Unless you have some weird daddy kink for my dad? I mean, I guess I can pull some strings but impersonating my father is too much and that might be a dealbr-"

"No, I don't have some weird kink for your dad," Peter cuts in, laughing hysterically. He presses his lips to your neck softly to muffle his laughter, but it just tickles you. "That's weird."

You both sit in silence, enjoying each other's company for the time being until your friends all come back. His hands pull you closer to him and you snuggle in closer to him. His lips meet yours in another soft kiss, pulling away only a few seconds later. Otherwise, things will get heated and you can't go further than PG in public.

"So, you jack off to pictures of me?" you ask randomly? Peter's eyes widen and his cheeks go red at the words leaving your mouth. "Which ones? They better be cute ones."

Peter chuckles breathlessly as he pulls his phone out and goes to an album titled under your name. It was sweet, in all honesty. He thinks about you even when you're not together. He goes to a picture of you in a wet bikini that was from some magazine. Then he scrolls to another of you in your bra and panties. A selfie you took and sent on one of those nights where you couldn't be together but wanted to be. There was also a picture of you bending over in the training room back at the Avengers HQ, ass popping from your tights. The last picture he showed you was one of you straddling him. Your shirt is off and you're in some shorts. You're looking directly into the camera, a smile on your face as you pop your chest out a bit and rest your hands on his chest.

"You little perv," you joke. "Let me know when you need some new material," you tell him.

"Oh, I'm always open to receiving new material from you, babe."

Send in feedback, requests, asks, or come talk to me!!

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moonawrites · 4 years

Note

From my list of prompts I save: "You just wanted them because they light up." (I hope this helps! Writer's block sucks <3)

“Ha! See? They’re super functional,” Lily calls from down the hall. James glances up from his laptop and watches with poorly contained amusement as Lily struts out of their bedroom, down the short hall, and across the length of the living room. She spins with flourish at the end, and James can’t help the smile on his face, his heart threatening to burst with fondness.

Lily is dressed in baggy grey sweatpants that he has never seen her wear before except for the time they painted their apartment, a white skin tight crop top that he has to admit he loves, a slightly oversized bomber jacket that usually looks much better, and… the shoes. God, those fucking shoes.

They’re chunky white high tops with silver metallic embellishment, and he knows Lily thinks they’re ugly. She has to, because they are obviously, objectively, very, very ugly. The worst part (or the best, depending on how you look at it) of the shoes is the line of blue LED lights embedded into the three inch rubber heels. James presses his lips together to stop from laughing. The entire ensemble is ridiculous, made more so by how far it is from Lily’s regular style. But she looks so proud of herself, so completely delighted. He has no choice but to indulge her.

“Mhm, they look.. um, very comfortable.” James knows they are not, they’re an entire size too small and he’s sure Lily’s toes are screaming in their confines.

“They are, and they’re actually cute in an unconventional way, right? Like they’re a statement piece. But they’re white sneakers, you can wear them with anything,” Lily continues.

“A valid point, I don’t know how I didn’t see it before,” James agrees. They do not go with anything.

Lily had found them at a tourist trap market on their trip to Hong Kong, and her entire face had lit up brighter than the garish shoes covering the stall. He’d laughed at first, thinking she was just messing around, but Lily seemed to be genuinely excited about the shoes.

“Did you never have a pair of light up shoes when you were a kid?” he’d asked, assuming that’s what it was about.

“Um, it’s not about that,” Lily had insisted. “They’re just cute, don’t you think?”

They decisively were not, but Lily liked them, so James had shrugged and carried the bag, albeit with a bit of teasing. The excitement didn’t wear off when they made it back to London – if anything, it was renewed and heightened when she rediscovered them while they unpacked.

“You’re a terrible liar,” Lily says now, narrowing her eyes in accusation.

“I mean I already told you they’re awful, but if you’re into, who am I to put you down for it? I kinda like the lowkey slutty, middle school bully look on you.”

Lily looks so genuinely offended, and James can’t not laugh. “That is not what this is!” she argues. “It’s… trendy. We should make a tiktok, the kids will love them.”

“The kids will bully you into deactivating your account.” James walks over and pulls Lily in for a kiss. “Let’s go show you off at Sweet Tooth first.”

James fights his smile at the flicker of hesitation in Lily’s eyes. “Right now?” she asks.

“Yeah, come on.” James grabs Lily’s hand in one hand and his wallet and keys with the other, and then he’s tugging her out the door and outside. Sweet Tooth is an ice cream shop that’s just a quick ten minute walk from their apartment. But ten minutes is longer than Lily’s going to last, he’s sure.

As they walk, Lily tugs at her jacket and looks down at her shoes and then around her at the other people on the relatively busy street. Most people don’t seem to give a shit, which is to be expected. Some people would dress in Lily’s current getup unironically. But she does get a look here and there, eyes lingering on the lights that flash as she walks. Halfway through, she starts to limp a bit. But she perseveres.

“I think they’re a hit,” Lily says as they arrive at Sweet Tooth. “People looked very jealous.”

“As they should be, they light up. How was the walk? Comfortable?”

Lily’s face falters a bit, but she keeps up her smile. “Yeah. Like, a tiny bit tight, but they’re worth it.”

“Baby, why won’t you admit you just wanted them because they light up?”

Lily scoffs. “And prove you right? Fuck you. I’ll wear them to our wedding.”

“I changed my mind about getting married.”

Lily smacks him, and James snickers again. “You realize you basically admitted it, right? You implied I’m right.”

Lily pauses for a moment, thinking back on what she said, and sighs in defeat. “Fine. I never got to have light up shoes as a kid and I got so excited about them that I bought the ugliest shoes in the world in a size too small for probably five times more than they’re worth. Happy?”

“No, but I will be when we have ice cream and those monstrosities are in the garbage.”

“If I throw them out right now, will you give me a piggyback home? My feet are fucking killing me.”

----

okay I wrote for a long time thinking eventually this would have a point and come to a natural end but it did not so I gave up. enjoy whatever this is??? thank you for the prompt, it was honestly a hard one lol sorry this is pointless trash <3

#ask #katie-with-the-tea #prompt #writing #moona tries to write #my writing #jily #jily drabble #james potter #lily evans

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shinjaeha · 4 years

Text

itsay ep 4 (thoughts + spoilers)

idk even know how to even start this bc i feel like i’m just a big ball of emotions, and this ep was wild. so much happened. last ep was so wonderful and almost languid with how everything played out (esp since it focussed much more specifically on the shift in teh/oh-aew’s relationship). this ep had a bit more of everything, not just the two of them in their bubble anymore. societal forces at play, and hence much more angst. again, this isn’t a proper analysis, it’s just me ranting and raving as usual as i semi-rewatch this again. this is very long, and there are a lot more things i want to think about in more detail at some point bc i’m mostly just skating over a lot of what happened but i gotta get these thoughts in my head out of me somehow. and i’m not sure if what i’m typing will even make sense bc i MYSELF can barely make sense of what i’m feeling but here i go anyway.

so we start off with the both of them kind of awkward after the night before which is fair enough considering what happened. actually when oh-aew’s habit started playing up again, i thought teh wasn’t going to scratch his back bc he was trying not to ~go there again after the night before, but he did and i was pleasantly surprised like oh...maybe things aren’t that bad?? (YET). also, i can imagine that it would have been reassuring for oh-aew too. like things have changed, but it’s not like teh has completely abandoned him. the touch itself is comforting, like when they were kids.

teh’s mum talking about how she wants both of her sons to bring their girlfriends around (and hounding him about bringing tarn around again) is giving me war flashbacks to my own asian relatives and i can feel the way that must crawl under his skin. I HATE when family members do that (and they always do). but for teh it must be esp hard bc he’s already constantly feeling like he’s vying for his mum’s attention over his brother, and now hoon’s bought back a girlfriend so it’s yet ANOTHER thing he feels like he has to compete with his brother over. in the back of his mind, he knows that he can’t give his mum what she wants if he’s with oh-aew (he can’t ‘win’ over hoon bc heteronormativity). teh is def prone to jealousy fairly easily, but i always feel like his emotions on that base level are also very easy to understand. i’ve been in positions like that before where i’ve felt like i’ve constantly been compared to someone else, and it makes you feel like shit. but also oh-aew having to sit through teh’s mum telling him to let her know if teh and tarn are dating?? ouch.

cue teh trying to avoid what’s going on with them and oh-aew being sad :((( they’re both in so much pain and i feel it and thank god i am no longer a teenager that’s all i can say about this.

the guitar in skyline instrumental is just...making me feel some kind of way. they have so many versions of this song and they always use the right version at the right time how is that.

so the tarn scene!!!!!!!!!!!!!! first thought: holy shit she looks so cute i love her crop top where did she get it i want one. second thought: but why did they make her wear a dark bra under such a light top?? i love that i was thinking this and then it all unravelled in front of me and like...the brilliance. the contrast between the scene in ep 2 (i think?) where teh accidentally peeks at her bra through the buttons of her shirt and gets noticeably flustered, and then this one where she literally wears the same bra under a light shirt ON PURPOSE to get his attention, but he doesn’t even notice?? the way she expects him to colour the hibiscus purple, but he colours it red for oh-aew instead?? it’s so incredibly telling of where his heart is at, and how his feelings have changed. anyway, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that he’s just not all there with her anymore, and tarn isn’t stupid...she’s been picking up on the signals since the beginning (why was he so weirdly obsessed with beating oh-aew at the start? why was he willing to wake up at 4am for oh-aew but not for her? willing to tutor the rest of his friends but not spend time with her?). the way she sees him colouring the hibiscus red and it’s her wake up call, like wtf am i DOING bc of this guy????? i love how she acknowledges that her feelings for teh have made it so she’s solely focussed on him and that she hates the things it makes her do (like wearing the bra to gain his attention). ngl i was slightly worried with how they were going to use her character during these later eps with teh being so conflicted (since girlfriends in BLs are usually handled pretty poorly), but i appreciate that she’s still as fleshed out and full of feeling as she ever was. she’s so sweet, and i just wish she had better than this, but i’m glad she called teh out on it. i know he’s confused af rn, and tbh i don’t think he’s handled this as badly (atm at least) as i thought it could have gone, but at the same time, if he doesn’t decide and set his heart on what he really wants, he’s just going to end up hurting them all. LOVE that she basically tells him to get his shit together first before coming back to her. i like her so much. and that scene of teh just walking around and around at the back feeling conflicted while she drew? really reminds me of the squiggly line timeline(?) of how ep 4 was going to go that nadao released before this ep went live. also cmbyn vibes were real in that one.

the devastation in oh-aew’s voice when he asks teh to at least reply his messages ;;; it’s like teh wants to go back to just being friends and oh-aew has kind of accepted that at this point, but at the same time, teh’s not backing that up. he says he wants to be friends, but he doesn’t know how to act ‘normal’ about it anymore, so he pushes oh-aew away instead. good on oh-aew for not taking that shit and standing up for himself too. i absolutely cannot stand seeing oh-aew sad bc pp’s sad face/voice is so good it actually pains me.

notice how teh ALWAYS uses studies/tutoring as an excuse to get closer to oh-aew again...hmmm...does oh-aew see it for what that is now too? that “you’ve never understood me” hit me like a fucking train. to think that they were so attuned to one another last ep, but now teh’s too caught up in he’s own world to realise just how much he’s hurting oh-aew. thanks, i hate it.

i know that he’s needs to figure himself out more and i absolutely stand by the fact that he needs to do that without messing around with either oh-aew or tarn (and also that he’s using studies again to get into oh-aew’s good books instead of talking through feelings and all that), but the chinese idiom book that he made for oh-aew was actually SO CUTE and romantic. all this stuff he does for oh-aew to show that he clearly cares so much, yet he can never accept it enough to get the words out...

I SWEAR THEY PLAY THE INSTRUMENTAL SKYLINE JUST TO CHOKE ME UP. the darting around each other after the neck kiss COUPLED with the skyline instrumental?? it’s like a sad beach scene 2.0. teh making the first (intimate) move this time. every time he’s trying so hard to convince himself he’s not in love with this boy, and every time he keeps coming back. i always feel such a weird mix of happy and sad when i see them together bc i love them but i know teh in particular, is just not ready yet. like the hug scene made my heart leap, BUT they did it in hiding (under the staircase). all their big intimate scenes are in hiding and that just :(((

teh saying that he loves the seawater on his back bc it holds him up, and oh-aew saying but you have to hold your breath in that posture and it gets uncomfortable so he likes letting it go and just sinking sometimes instead (obv paraphrasing but you get the drift)?? THE WRITING IN THIS. it says so much without telling the audience directly...so poetic. everything about this show is so poetic. the way they sink into the ocean and into that space of oh-aew’s where you can just let yourself go without holding back, and then and only THEN does teh finally kiss oh-aew. and it’s beautiful, after holding back for so long, but it’s also painful bc he’s let go but only within this tiny pocket of space and time. in hiding again. that bird’s eye view shot where you can’t see them at all sealed it for me. like you want to be happy, but you can’t really bc you know that they’ve still got so much more to go...like when teh’s hand grazes oh-aew’s chest and you see oh-aew realise again...like that’s partly what stopped teh the first time in ep 3. when his hands stopped at oh-aew’s chest like it hit in for him that he was a boy. anyway, love that they gave us a skam kiss but i’m also very sad. on another note, how the hell did they hold their breath for that long?????

love that they gave us a further 2 more seconds of teh/oh-aew being cute (CONSTANTLY thinking about teh’s fingers dancing across oh-aew’s face and smushing his face in his hands...oh-aew holding the back of teh’s head...just a brief moment of carefreeness) before they went for the jugular. watching teh fight against himself in this way is what hurts. oh-aew begging him to just let go and accept what they are (the way he keeps going “what did i do wrong?? you feel it too!!”) but he’s so tortured he can’t do it. it’s downright fucking heartbreaking. the “one day i’ll stop feeling this way”...could have just stabbed oh-aew and it would have hurt less. all i know is i’m hurting for the both of them. the repression is real, and it just sucks. this whole thing fucking sucks for both of them (and tarn and bas too at that). idk it just gets me that oh-aew is coming out of this having been rejected once again bc teh isn’t ready yet. and i know this but it doesn’t make me any less upset. not at any of them bc it’s hard i know it’s hard...just at the situation. sometimes it feels like teh’s taking a step forward but then he takes two more back instead. the look on teh’s face when oh-aew was like let’s stop being friends...total devastation. i’m done. don’t want to think about it anymore.

i’m glad that oh-aew’s parents are so supportive of him though. i wasn’t sure how close they were based on their previous interaction but they really love him and i’m glad he has that stability to help him through this.

THE SCENE WITH OH-AEW AND THE BRA FUCKING BLEW ME AWAY. this show is always keeping me guessing, and again yet another thing that i wasn’t expecting but it was so visceral. the red of the bra in comparison to tarn’s bra with the purple hibiscus flowers on it...everything connects. oh-aew looking into the mirror with that bra on and thinking about how things would have been different if only :((( and then his breakdown when he realises that it’s not and that’s the reality of the situation. the feeling that gave me sits so deep within my chest i can’t even begin to carve it out.

teh masturbating when he sees that picture of oh-aew and to that picture of yongjian on his wall (idk why it only now just occurred to me that yongjian is always in red too)?? the self-hatred in this scene. the internalised homophobia. my heart feels so heavy.

he KEEPS reaching and it’s going nowhere bc it won’t ever be enough, and that’s not fair on himself and it’s not fair on tarn. like i understand what he’s going through, and i get that he’s extremely confused and needs the clarification, but when he asks tarn to tell her she loves him and he can’t do the same back for her...i just feel so, so, so fucking bad for tarn.

oh-aew hoping that the worksheets left for him were from teh (which would be very on brand of him), but then seeing bas :( maybe in another world, in another life (like teh and tarn)...but he’s such a sweetheart. bas, best boy ;;;

legit as soon as the gang came to see teh off to bangkok and talk to him about how oh-aew was doing terribly (and wasn’t planning on going to the admission exams) i knew where this was going to go. there’s been so much foreshadowing leading up to this, and this was also one of (if not my main theory) with how things were going to eventually play out. but tbh for some reason i thought it was going to play out later in ep 5...but like damn. damn. the way i understand but at the same time i kept going OH TEH :( throughout this. the utter STRESS this bit put me through. THE MISCOMMUNICATION.

anyway, teh’s love language is clearly acts of service. but it can really be to his detriment when he does things impulsively (albeit with care and good intentions), but he doesn’t use his words so things get lost in translation. sometimes actions just aren’t enough and you really do need words to communicate.

the confirmation scene was so tense...even now i’m just sitting here thinking about it and there’s a hole in my stomach at the thought of what teh must be going through and what he ends up doing. like when that last person on the list shows up and you KNOW it’s going to happen but at the same time it’s like a punch to the chest bc there’s just no doubt that teh’s going to turn it down for oh-aew...OF COURSE he would. oh-aew’s split moment of happiness before realising what teh’s done...the absolute dread i still have in me at the realisation of this.

the tension really kept increasing from here on in...teh coming home and his mum just being so fucking proud of him and telling everyone in the restaurant about how happy she is for him (all while teh is absolutely depleted), then tarn coming in and everything bubbling over when she realises what teh’s done too. realises that teh’s in love with oh-aew (smile is so great in this btw like WOW). the “you hurt me and i’m alright with that, teh, but right now you’re hurting yourself” broke my heart. absolutely love tarn as a character and only ever want the best for her.

when he tells his mum :((((((((((( and his mum just goes on about how hard he’s worked and how much he’s already sacrificed only for him to throw that away. he wanted her to be proud of him SO BAD, wanted to not be compared to his brother for once, only for him to give away his place bc he loves oh-aew more than he wants his mother’s praise. more than he wants to compete and ‘win’ against his brother. when she points to hoon and goes “why can’t you be more like him?” and he just loses it. like rubbing salt in the wound. i’m so glad hoon finally hugged him the way i’ve been wanting to this whole time. the banner congratulating him that teh’s mum made with all his materials from before :((( hoon giving him money for uni :((( you ever watch some things and feel like you’ll never be happy again...

okay the way that everything spiralled during the ig story fight?????? what gets me is that teh sacrificed his place thinking that oh-aew wasn’t going to sit the exam at all (he could have just talked to him and convinced him instead but ughhh i understand i get it). oh-aew thinks he did it bc teh didn’t believe he could get in himself (which of course then spurs him to give it up so he can get in through the exam instead). and when teh sees that, it’s like a smack in the face, like he went through all that only for oh-aew to reject it (him). it’s just layers upon layers of miscommunication and the anxiety of it all absolutely guts me. and then the anger mixing into devastation when he opens his book and sees how it’s all cut up. the remnants a reminder of everything he’s done for oh-aew. this boy that he adores but can’t accept he has feelings for. it’s just this mix of anger and sorrow and what have i fucking done?????? and how could he????? the cast were all fantastic but billkin really had to go above and beyond in this one and i could absolutely feel his pain throughout this.

TO PIGGY BACK ON THIS, like i said before, teh has always used studying/tutoring as a tool to get closer to oh-aew, but seeing that book with all the words gone was in part also him realising he doesn’t have that anymore. he can’t use that tool to get close to oh-aew anymore. the only way forward would be to actually get close to oh-aew without the pretences. and the saddest part of this all is that oh-aew doesn’t even NEED all of that (the tutoring, the book of idioms, the relinquishing of his uni spot)...the only thing he wants is for teh to ADMIT his feelings out loud. to admit that he feels the same way about oh-aew that oh-aew feels about him.

it’s funny bc in the last ep, the conversation that had me feeling the most nervous was when they’re talking at the cape, and oh-aew’s telling teh that he’s a rival and inspiration to him. i always KNEW this was going to come back to haunt them. like a constant circle. friends to rivals to friends to more than friends(?) to rivals. it’s a fine line. narratively, it always had to happen, and now they’re back to competing against one another yet again, and it’s going to be so tough bc they’ll have so much more competition on top of that as well.

next ep is going to be very, very hard on teh, but somehow after this ep, i just feel a lot more hopeful about it? i’m pretty convinced at this point that it won’t end in tragedy (which was the thing that i wanted least of all). of course i want both teh and oh-aew to end up together, but i can understand if they don’t. if this ends with them rekindling their friendship again, that’ll be enough for me. their relationship has been so turbulent and passionate that it needs some stability, and hopefully when teh’s in a better state of mind, when he’s at a place when he’s finally accepted all parts of himself, they’ll get there. so if that means it ends on them running to the cape together (even if they’re not technically together) fulfilling their promise to one another in the sunset, then that’s fine with me. i don’t mind an open ending if it makes sense in the context of the story, and i think something like that would. it’s like after such an angsty episode, you need a slight reprieve from it. i have no doubt in my mind that ep 5 will contain darkness, but i do think that there will be light at the end of the tunnel. so for once i feel truly hopeful about it.

i can’t believe we only have one more ep left to go...

#i told sunset about you #itsay #like there's more angst to come but the real climax of it was in this ep that's how i feel anyway #idk if both of them will get in. i HOPE both of them do.#but i just think that when things get angsty at this point of the story there's always a chance for it to turn around #you just need to worry when things are too happy UNTIL you get to the last ep #tbh though i would like a kiss between them out in the open when teh's finally stopped repressing himself #just so he can show the character growth of his whole arc. so he can be free.#i would obv very much like for them to end up together but there's only one ep left so idk if they can get to that point when there's still #so much that teh has to learn to come to terms with #and he's going to be so so stressed with the exam too (i saw the previews and am bracing myself for more heartbreak as he cries)#i did not mean for this to be as long as it was but i was sporadically writing it as i worked and kept thinking of things to add #and it somehow became an essay #i wrote more in this than i've ever written in any of my uni essays GOD #if you read this whole thing you need some kind of medal or something idk man #also random note but teh's mum's kebaya looks like one that my mum owns #text

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ineverlookavvay · 4 years

Text

bisexual-aliens-in-arms

Isobel drags Michael to Planet 7 for pride night. It goes far better than expected.

Bi Visibility Day - Day 7 of Michael Guerin Week 2020

cw: alcohol, referenced child abuse, internalized homophobia

Read it on Ao3

“No, “ Michael said, aiming for firm. “I don’t have time, Iz.”

Isobel scoffed. “What, are you going to be working on cars all night long?”

There was actually a fairly big backlog of cars to work on, and Michael found he needed the distraction more often than not recently. Life was complicated, increasingly so, and cars were simple, designed to be a certain way and logically never stray from that. People sucked a lot more than cars, objectively.

“Maybe I am.”

“Michael.” Isobel leaned down onto the hood of the car he was trying to work on, annoyingly in his way. She was giving him her ‘cut the bullshit’ look, which he was historically not very good at escaping. “It’s one night, and it’s important to me. Please come out?”

“I don’t do theme nights.”

Isobel scoffed again, rolling her eyes and trodding directly onto his ego. “Come on, Michael. This is my first pride month and you’re supposed to be my bisexual-alien-in-arms.” She changed tactic abruptly, making the most irritating pouty face he’d ever seen. “You’re not really going to make me go alone, are you?”

Michael sighed, wiping grease off his hands onto his jeans. Fucking hell. “Fine, but you gotta leave me alone for at least a few hours, okay?” Isobel clapped gleefully. “You know, some of us work.”

“Let me know if any of those people want a job,” Sanders cut in, ducking in on his way out, looking at Michael’s progress skeptically and ignoring Michael’s scowl. “Do some damn work.”

“Hell does it look like I’m doing?” Michael called out as Sanders left, still scowling. Michael fixed a tight smile on Isobel. “Later, okay?”

She shrugged. “Fine, but be ready to go at eight. And try not to look so…” she waved her hand at his general appearance, “mechanic-y.”

Michael wanted to protest that he always looked ‘mechanic-y’ on account of he was a damn mechanic, and besides, the grungy blue-collar cowboy look was still popular as far as he could tell; but seeing as he’d already caved, he would certainly end up losing this argument, too. So instead, he turned his attention back to the cars. Michael liked working with his hands, he liked fixing things. Sure, he might fuck up every relationship he’d ever had, he might break the things in his life constantly, but he could take a broken car and make it a working car, and that was something.

He was not so secretly dreading the evening, though. He let himself drift far enough into his work that he wasn’t actively panicking about going to a damn pride night at the local gay bar, which he’d never actually been to, no matter how many times Isobel tried to convince him how great it was. It’s not that Michael was ashamed, he really wasn’t—but he’d experienced enough bigots and assholes in his life to know that he didn’t need to paint an extra target on his back, either.

Who he fucked was his own business, and that was how he preferred to keep it. Isobel was reveling in her newfound sexuality, and he wasn’t about to ruin that for her, but he also knew that a rich white woman was a lot less of a target than a trailer trash cowboy. He also had an existential dread of any place that resulted in Isobel leaving at the end of the night dripping in glitter.

Michael didn’t do glitter, and he didn’t do pride month—or at least he hadn’t—and he’d much rather just spend a night with Isobel at the Wild Pony celebrating themselves quietly with a drink that didn’t have anything in it besides the liquor. Hell, they could go there and celebrate themselves raucously, as long as no one had to know the reason for the celebrating.

His attempt to distract himself resulted in successfully losing track of time, which meant Isobel was already standing in the junkyard tapping her foot when he went inside to shower and change.

“You don’t have anything cuter than that?” she asked skeptically when he emerged, clean and dressed in a black button-down. Isobel was wearing a purplish iridescent crop top that probably came out of her closet circa 2010 and incredibly tight dark blue jeans, with multiple strings of shiny necklaces around her neck.

“Sorry, I don’t own anything that shiny.”

That got him a smile at least. “Listen, Michael, the whole point of pride is to look hot,” he was pretty sure that wasn’t true, “get laid,” he was sure that one was wrong, “and be out and proud while doing it.” She looked so proud of herself right then that Michael didn’t have the heart to argue. “Plus, the bi flag has really nice colors.”

Michael smiled in spite of himself. “Iz, you got me to go with you, you really want to jeopardize that by shit talking my clothing?”

Frowning slightly, she shrugged. “Fine, but this is why no one thinks you’re the fun alien.”

“Hey! I am definitely the fun one,” he argued, striding towards her car and settling in for an inane but companionable argument.

Michael liked bars, in general. He liked the dark corners and the dirty floors and the smell of alcohol and the down home music and the bluster of it all. He liked sitting at a bar nursing a drink and feeling like a part of something just by virtue of drinking beside other people. But Michael hated Planet 7.

First of all, the whole damn place was trying too hard. It had far too many lights, all of them overly complicated and flashing stupid colors. It had a DJ instead of a jukebox, which Isobel implied was something special, that he should be pleased to be experiencing, much to his chagrin. It had more glitter and confetti littering the floor and on the bar and on the tables than Michael had ever hoped to see in one place. All the drinks were obscured by ridiculous garnishes. There was someone sitting at the end of the bar stenciling with face paint on people’s faces, another thing Isobel assured him was a fun and exciting theme night thing. But most of all, it didn’t make Michael feel safe, or comfortable, or known; this wasn’t his place.

Isobel looked like she’d just walked into her surprise birthday party, though, grinning and strutting in like she owned the place. “Come on, I’ve been dreaming about their drinks,” she said, beaming, and Michael reluctantly followed her over to the bar. Michael realized quickly that she hadn’t been dreaming about the drink so much as the bartender. Which, fair enough.

Michael let her talk and flirt and took the time to look around again, hoping to find something to be complimentary about so Isobel wouldn’t feel she had to prove how great it all was to him. It was his own fault then, when he accidentally saw Alex across the room, leaning against a wall, deep in conversation with someone that looked suspiciously like Kyle. Michael’s stomach did a flip and he turned quickly away, back to Isobel and the bar, half hoping Alex hadn’t seen him. Michael knew that Alex was single again, or at least that was the last he’d heard, but that didn’t mean he wanted to be caught staring outright.

“Here,” Isobel thrust a drink into his hand that had a little light-up rainbow color-changing cube masquerading as an ice cube at the bottom of it. Michael rolled his eyes. “So what are you feeling? Wanna dance? Or I think they’re painting pride flags on people’s faces?” She sounded giddy, her cheeks flushed and her hair already covered in a ridiculous amount of glitter.

Michael didn’t have the heart to let her down by telling her he’d rather eat sand than dance or get his face painted without at least a few drinks in his system. “Whatever you want.”

Isobel beamed at him. “See, I knew this would be fun.”

“Yep,” Michael said, plastering a smile on his fast as she led him over to the person doing the face paint, “cause I’m the fun one.”

By the time he was sitting on a bar stool with someone striping color across his face, Michael was on his second drink, and Isobel's face was already a melty palette of pink, blue, and purple.

“Isn’t this great?” Isobel said, standing over him and dancing to some unbearable pop song, shaking glitter out of her own hair all over Michael’s head and shoulders. He could feel it falling onto him like tiny raindrops, securing itself to his shirt and hair and skin with some invisible, terrible glitter power. He wondered idly how many showers it was going to take until he could walk around without constantly catching the glint of it out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, standing up as the face painter proclaimed he was done. His cheek felt strange, stiff and cold, and he couldn’t get the last of the alcohol out of his glass around the giant fake ice cube.

“Hey, we have to take a picture,” Isobel said, grinning wider and pulling out her phone while she dragged their faces close enough together to fit into the selfie frame. She pulled back to look at the picture, nodding with happy satisfaction. “We are hot,” she proclaimed, “and proud. Two badass bisexuals.”

Michael nodded distractedly. He needed another drink, or maybe just some fresh air, or for the DJ to turn down the goddamned bass, or something. He hated the feeling of the face paint, and he hated the selfie, he hated how unlike himself he looked, glittery and colorful and trying to smile in a crowd. Michael stumbled backwards, turning around to face the bar in what he hoped was a mostly intentional-looking maneuver. He needed another drink.

The bartender nodded at him and Isobel, bringing over two more glasses of whatever they were drinking. “Lookin’ good,” she said, and Michael’s chest felt tight.

It was too loud, and too warm, and Isobel was talking but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He drank almost frantically, trying to get enough alcohol into his system that he stopped caring about any of this shit. Michael glanced around the bar, at all of the people laughing and smiling and looking like they fit in perfectly, and Michael had never felt more like an alien. He needed to get out, just for a moment, just to catch his breath.

“I’m, uh, I’m gonna find the bathroom,” he said, coherently enough, and pushed past Isobel towards the back hallway.

The bathroom was thankfully empty, and quiet as the door swung shut behind him, the music that was so pervasive in the bar just a tinny echo. Michael braced himself on one of the sinks, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against the scratched mirror. It was just all so much, and it should have been easy, and the fact that it wasn’t was creating a cacophony of different feelings in his mind, all of it blending together into something like panic. Michael opened his eyes, willing himself to stay in control.

He looked at himself in the mirror, and he hated the frantic look in his eyes, hated the smear of color across his cheek like a brand, hated that he could be so comfortable with himself and yet so shaken. He could feel the urge to push it all away, violently, to shove and shake and break—the only way he had now to make the noise in his head stop. Michael gripped the sink and thought about tearing the room apart. He could see it, sinks and toilets tearing out of the wall, tiles slamming against one another into dust, the mirrors cracking and shattering. The vision of destruction filled his mind, and he was in the middle of it, silent in the eye of the storm, caught in the tornado of his own making—

The door to the bathroom swung open, and Alex stepped through it, looking concerned. “Are you okay?”

The vision dropped away from Michael’s eyes, leaving him with only himself, standing in a public bathroom feeling terrified and self-destructive. He watched in the mirror as Alex twisted the lock on the door and took another cautious step forward.

“Are you okay?” Alex repeated. “Because you looked not okay.”

“I’m fine,” Michael said, even though his voice sounded thin and shaken. Alex stepped towards him again and Michael pressed himself forward, closer to the sink, like he could climb into the mirror and avoid this interaction. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to talk to Alex, because he did, badly, but he didn’t want Alex to see him in a moment where he felt weak. “You didn’t have to follow me.”

Alex shrugged, the cracks in the mirror keeping Michael from seeing the nuances of his expression. “I wanted to see if you were okay.”

It was meant kindly, but somehow it made Michael feel worse. Michael stopped watching Alex and focused on his own face, frowning when he saw the painted colors again, loosening his grip on the sink to press uneasily on the skin of his cheek. He swallowed and dropped his hand quickly, lowering his eyes to the stained white porcelain of the sink. “I think this paint might be toxic,” he said wryly. He could tell from Alex’s silence that he saw through the remark.

“It looks good,” Alex said quietly. “You look good.”

Michael looked up sharply at Alex’s reflection again. Alex had his own face painted, a rainbow of stripes adorning his cheek. “You do, too,” Michael said, meaning it. Alex did look good—happy and proud and like he wasn’t constantly looking over his shoulder. It made Michael feel boundlessly happy and endlessly sad, knowing that they’d spent their time together hiding, that they could both be here on this stupid pride night—with Alex looking secure and hot and comfortable—and yet not be together. Usually Michael would fight or fuck those maudlin feelings away, but that wasn’t really an option tonight. He sighed. “But I just don’t…maybe this isn’t my scene.”

Alex was close enough to put a hand on Michael’s shoulder, and he did so cautiously, like he wasn’t sure if Michael would let him. Michael hoped that someday Alex would be able to touch him without worrying. He let Alex turn him away from the mirror.

“Maybe,” Alex said, carefully. “Or maybe you grew up with assholes telling you this part of you was wrong, that it should be shuttered if you can’t destroy it.”

Michael’s instinct was to argue that he was fine, and none of his shitty foster parents had gotten to him like that, but he wasn’t sure it was entirely true, and he wasn’t sure that Alex wasn’t saying it for his own benefit as much as for Michael’s. Alex’s hand was still resting on Michael’s shoulder, and it felt grounding; Michael felt stable under Alex’s hand, under Alex’s unwavering gaze. He took a deep breath, and as he let it out, Alex seemed to visibly relax, too.

“You can wash it off, if you want,” Alex said, “and it wouldn’t mean anything.”

Michael shook his head slowly. “Isobel—” he started.

“We didn’t get the same ‘strong woman, love yourself’ stuff that Isobel did,” Alex interrupted, reaching around Michael to snag a paper towel from the wall dispenser. “It’s okay.”

“Isobel would be disappointed,” Michael said numbly, his chest tight with unspoken gratitude, but he didn’t take the paper towel. Then more quietly: “Everyone’s always disappointed.”

Alex looked at Michael for a moment, and then shrugged and smiled, like he didn’t know what Michael was talking about, like he wasn’t one of the people Michael kept disappointing. “This whole thing is supposed to be about celebrating yourself the way you want to, so fuck ‘em.”

Michael smiled back weakly, his hand tracing lightly over the stiff lines of the face paint on his cheek. He so badly wanted to want to leave it there.

“It looks better on you,” Michael said, impulsively, reaching out as if to touch Alex’s cheek, and then drawing his hand back at the last moment. He held his breath as Alex met his eyes and stepped carefully forward, bringing his cheek to Michael’s hand, leaning into his touch far too easily. “You’ve always looked good with stuff like this.” He was thinking of Alex as a teenager, with liner painted across his eyelids, and it made Michael ache with nostalgia. He wanted this—he wanted to be able to tell Alex how the only good memories from that summer were of Alex, to be able to say all the stupid, romantic things he had never gotten the chance to say, to be able to dance with Alex at pride night and have neither of them care who saw.

“I wish I’d been able to be this with you,” Alex said, his voice raw and quiet.

Michael let out a breath that was almost a laugh, running his fingertips lightly across Alex’s rainbow cheek. “You’re here now,” he said without thinking about it. Now was enough. Michael thought that if he leaned forward and kissed Alex, Alex might let him, that it would be okay if it only existed here, in this moment. But they owed each other more than that—more than a secret kiss in a bathroom, more than rushing in without talking, without taking enough care that neither of them got hurt, this time. God, but Michael wanted there to be a ‘this time.’

“So are you,” Alex said pointedly, licking his lips absently in a way that sent Michael’s entire internal equilibrium shifting, like his body was trying to tip him towards Alex.

The door clattered as someone tried to get into the bathroom, and both of them laughed awkwardly, aware again of their surroundings. It steadied Michael, kept him from crashing towards Alex the way he desperately wanted to. Waiting would be smarter; dropping his hand, pulling away and swallowing everything he was feeling, putting on a smile and walking out of the bathroom would be smarter, but he hesitated.

Alex met Michael’s eyes and slowly lifted his own hand and pressed his fingers lightly to the paint on Michael’s cheek, almost exploratory, a gentle caress. Michael felt his breath coming far too quickly, his earlier discomfort nearly forgotten under the soft way Alex was touching him.

“You really do look good, Guerin.” Alex said quietly. “And this place? This bar? It’s not my favorite either. And it—it isn’t home, but it’s safe. You know?”

“Where’s home?” Michael asked, somewhat facetiously, his fingertips still barely brushing Alex’s cheek, leaning his cheek into Alex’s touch, unable to stop himself. Michael knew both of them had been facing the same thing recently—the growing sense that all of the places that had felt comfortable or familiar didn’t feel that way any more, the fear of what it would take to find the places that would feel that way in the future.

Alex met Michael’s eyes, meaningfully, like he was trying to get Michael to understand something without saying it. “I think I’ve almost got that figured out,” Alex said finally, and Michael was hit by the realization that Alex wasn’t talking about the bars or the city or the buildings they lived in, but something entirely different. He thought back to every time he’d ever heard Alex say the word home, with something like longing and questions laid into it, and wondered if maybe he’d been talking about them the whole time.

Michael was trying to form a response that wouldn’t feel like a deflection, that would convince Alex to actually say what he was saying, when someone banged loudly on the door and Alex pulled away abruptly, leaving Michael’s fingers caressing only air. Alex smiled apologetically and dropped his hand away from Michael’s cheek. “You shouldn’t spend the whole night in the bathroom,” Alex said, starting to move towards the door. “I’ll save you a dance.”

“Didn’t see you dancing before,” Michael said, to take focus from the fact that the image of Alex dancing, and happy, was enough to make every bit of him openly ache with wanting.

“I wasn’t.” Alex said, raising an eyebrow. “But I will with you.”

Michael exhaled heavily, his voice stolen by the casual way Alex said it, like they’d already decided. Then again, what was there even to decide?

Alex licked his lips, hesitating between Michael and the door, then abruptly turned back and crossed to where Michael was standing. Alex pressed himself into Michael’s space, his hands cradling Michael’s cheeks as he brought their lips together in a quick but searing kiss. Michael let out a sound halfway between surprise and a moan and kissed Alex back fiercely. He’d barely gotten his bearings before Alex was pulling away.

Smiling with satisfaction, Alex unlocked the door and slipped through into the noise of the bar. Michael side-stepped out of the way as someone rushed past him to one of the stalls, watching the door like Alex might come back.

When he didn’t, Michael turned back to the mirror, staring at himself skeptically for a few minutes, trying to see himself the same way he saw Alex, like someone who was strong enough not to feel foolish, but proud. He shook his head at his reflection—it was too much, too much to ask of himself at that moment, but he realized that he still didn’t want to leave the bar. Not when Isobel wanted him there, not when Alex wanted him there.

It was Alex’s voice, Alex’s smile, in Michael’s head as he decided not to wash the face paint off. As he decided not to listen to the words in the back of his mind that he tried to pretend he’d forgotten, to brush off with bravado, the ones that came from the screaming foster parents who carried bibles and belts, the ones who told him he was nothing before he was old enough to know anything about himself. Alex didn’t see Michael that way, any more than Michael saw Alex as any of the things his asshole father had thought of him. Alex wanted to dance with Michael, wanted to kiss him, and that was reason enough to stop thinking about the colors on his face and leave the bathroom.

This bar was never going to be Michael’s place, it was never going to be less annoyingly loud and glittery, and it was never going to serve drinks that didn’t make him roll his eyes. But it could be the first place he’d let Isobel drag him to a pride event, it could be the first place he’d kissed Alex, that Alex had kissed him, since they’d tried to ignore how they would always feel. It could be that, and that could be enough, even if he hated the damn face paint.

Taking a breath, Michael left the bathroom with his breathing almost back to normal. He found Isobel quickly, dancing on the edge of a throng of people, and she brightened as soon as he appeared, beckoning him over.

“Thought you might have left,” she said close to his ear when he reached her, almost yelling to be heard above the music.

“Almost did,” Michael replied distractedly. He scanned the room, which had gotten significantly more crowded in the short time he’d been gone, until he found Alex, leaning against a wall, clearly watching Michael, too. He tilted his head, gesturing Alex over, and saw him nod and push slowly away from the wall,

“What did you say?” Isobel yelled, and Michael flipped his attention back to her, grinning. She looked happy, and tipsy, and like she actually wanted him there, and all at once Michael felt lighter.

“I said fuck you,” he said stridently, louder and closer to her ear. “Bisexuals-in-arms, right?”

Isobel’s answering smile was brilliant, and Michael realized he hadn’t made a mistake by coming here just for her, because she’d asked him, intentionally, to be there. And there wasn’t anything wrong with staying for Alex, because neither of them would usually be caught dead in a place like this, and there was something about just showing up that mattered.

Alex came up beside them, putting a hand gently on Michael’s elbow, just enough to let Michael know he was there. It felt like a lot more than that, though.

“Alex!” Isobel was clearly at the drunk stage where she was friends with everyone. “Look, we match!” She gestured happily between her face and Michael’s, and Michael hated that it made him feel even a tiny bit better about the stupid face paint.

Alex grinned. “It’s great,” he said and Isobel beamed. The song changed fluidly to something new, and Alex slid his hand down Michael’s arm until their fingers were clasped together. Michael couldn’t think of a time he and Alex had held hands in public, not ever. It felt nice.

Isobel danced next to them with abandon and Michael let himself sway awkwardly with Alex, trying to actually loosen his grip on his control instead of just slipping into the comfortable persona of someone who didn’t care. He did care. He cared that Isobel wanted them to have this connection—something that she and Max didn’t have—even if her way of celebrating it wasn’t entirely in line with his ideal evening. He cared that Alex wanted to dance with him, that he was holding Michael’s hand in public, even if it was under the guise of dancing, that he cared enough to follow him into the bathroom and knew him well enough to lock the door.

Isobel paused her dancing to give Michael a very obvious and unsubtle thumbs-up, and Michael didn’t even resent it when Alex laughed. Michael grinned up at her sparkling, painted face, his hand tightly knit with Alex’s, and let himself enjoy being part of something loudly, even if it was just for the night. Maybe, Michael reflected, this was what Alex meant by home.

#mgweek20 #guerinweek20 #malex #michael guerin #alex manes #isobel evans #my writing #happy bi visibility day!!!#this is so sappy but here it is #getting together #just a little bit of hurt mostly comfort

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its-raining-cats · 4 years

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I redesigned Momo bc her canon costume sucks! Info and details under the cut, including reasoning behind my redesign for all those critics. Speaking of critics, constructive criticism is welcome! “Hey, [blank] is nice, but I think [blank] might work better” is 100% welcome! I want to hear your ideas!

But if you’re gonna clown about how you can’t jack off to your teenage waifu anymore bc the Nasty SJW Puritans killed her you can just go. Eat some bread, maybe you’ll calm down. This is a clown-free post.

EDIT: feel free to use this redesign for your own works (fics, art, comics, etc,) just make sure to give credit!

Her hair is about the same, but I gave her a clip to keep it out of her eyes.

Her top is a halter crop top with an open back. I liked the look of the yellow strap on her chest but it got in the way of the zipper, so I changed it to a stripe on the cloth. The front of the top zips open and shut. There’s a large opening on the back, but if that’s not enough space to create something, the back is held together by a powerful magnetic clasp that will pop open to make room for a large object, then go back together with little trouble.

I gave her elbow and knee pads bc scrapes on those aren’t fun! The gloves are part for handling weapons and part bc I think they look cool. She makes things from the palms of her hands sometimes so there are openings there.

Shorts are comfortable and easy to wear! They are athletic and easy to move in.

I actually like the clunky belt from the og design. So I kept one of the two belts and made it a bit more belt-like, so it isn’t sagging off of her hips. The pouches are detachable and there’s plenty of room for more pouches. They hold high calorie snacks to fuel her quirk, first aid equipment, and other generic hero tools. She could make her own, but it’s best to keep some already with her just in case.

I threw the book and the bookshelf out. That was an abomination. Why does she have a bookshelf on her ass. I replaced the heavy clunky ugly stupid book with a sleek, easy to use, compact, durable, voice-commanded, solar powered, high tech tablet! (in an extra-padded pouch, the one in the back view)

Under the tablet pouch is a poncho, rolled up small and compact. The poncho is light and easy to move in. It can be used to cover the occasional wardrobe malfunction, create things without being seen, and is perfect for wrapping around a scared child.

The boots! I gave her combat boots, and lowered the heel a bit because twisted ankles suck. I also wanted to give them more design than just blank red, so I did that too.

Why, you might ask, did I do all of this? The answer is simple. Momo’s costume fucking sucks. For starters, she is 15 when introduced (she’s 16 in canon now.) I’m 17. She’s 1 or 2 years younger than me. Her costume, designed by an adult man, is incredibly revealing for anyone, especially a teenage girl. Momo did not choose her costume. She is a fictional character. Her choices are written by an adult man. Her costume was not “designed by her.” It was designed by the author. Being an AFAB (assigned female at birth) person only a year or two older than this character, I am deeply uncomfortable with how she has been dressed by the author.

Her being a teen does influence this redesign, but I would do it even if she was an adult. Why? Because her canon costume is just garbage. It’s super impractical for any kind of physical activity, and IMO just pretty ugly! The leotard is a chafing nightmare and would give you a wedgie after taking a single step, the belt is about to fall off, there’s p much no fat on the chest area, one of the only open spots on her upper half, the back is closed despite being what she uses to make large objects, it offers absolutely no breast support which anyone with tits will tell you is awful, especially for ppl with larger chests. The bookshelf on her ass is just?????? why??? i can kind of vibe with the aesthetic of the book, even if it’s super impractical, but a shelf????? a fucking SHELF????? (i will never not be over the ass bookshelf) its just a huge mess that the author obviously put no thought into other than “hurr durr sexy gurl” (and even failed to make it sexy!) It’s a stupid costume.

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #fanart #bnha momo #momo #momo yaoyorozu #yaoyorozu momo #yaomomo #bnha yaomomo #bnha yaoyorozu #momo redesign #bnha redesign #yaomomo redesign #its raining art

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atlafan · 5 years

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Take it Slow - Part Seventeen

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

(All I have to say is, please don’t be mad at me.)

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen

Masterpost

Sunday night you realized why you were so tired, you had caught a nasty cold somehow. You shewed Harry away in fear of getting him sick. With your day off Monday, you made a big pot of vegetable soup that would help you through the week. On top of that Monday night you got your period. You wondered why you didn’t just go on the type of birth control that made it so you didn’t get it at all. Being on the pill, it wasn��t even a real period. You insisted to Harry that you didn’t need him to take care of you while you were sick, as sweet as you thought it was.

Tuesday morning you contemplated calling out of work, but you somehow managed to make it in. You wanted to gossip with Niall about the weekend you had. You decided to wear your loosest pair of slacks with a blouse and a blazer to dress it up. You both had busy mornings crammed with meetings. At lunch you both decided to get out for a walk and fresh air.

“So, tell me all about New Hampshire.”

“It was perfect.” You sniffle. He hands you a tissue. “Thanks.”

“Other than catching a cold.” He chuckles.

“Yeah, other than that. The drive up was gorgeous, the foliage was incredible. We had a lazy night the first night. The next morning we got up and explored the property. There were a ton of walking trails.”

“Your pictures looked great. I especially liked the one of the two of you.” He nudged you with his elbow. “Can’t believe you got him to do that.”

“I know, he was a great sport. Then we had the most relaxing massages, followed by a mani/pedi.” Niall starts laughing. “What?”

“Nothing, it’s like he’s your girlfriend.”

“I think it’s incredibly sexy and manly that he takes care of his nails the way he does.”

“Sexy, huh?”

“Oh stop.” You nudge him. “Then we had dinner at the restaurant attached to the inn, it was so fancy. Oh! And our room had this giant tub Jacuzzi, it was amazing.”

“What did you guys do after dinner?” Niall is grinning at you.

“What did you hear?”

“Nothin’, believe it or not I haven’t had time to speak with him about your little weekend. Sarah and I took advantage of the long weekend ourselves.” He winks at you and you roll your eyes. “I’m seein’ him tonight actually.”

“Oh good!” You were happy they were still making time for each other.

“Give me the tea, let’s go.”

“Okay, okay. Well, I bought this like sexy nightgown to surprise him with.” He gasps sarcastically, making you giggle. “Then, um, well…” You blush.

“Oh just tell me, would you?”

“We did what we usually do, you know, he, um, used his mouth.”

“Mhm.”

“I told him I was ready to do a little more.”

“You let him.” Niall makes a hand gesture with his fingers.

“Jesus, Niall.” You look around to make sure no one on the street saw him. “Yes, but not like full on.”

“What do you mean?”

“I only let him use one finger. Well, even if I wanted him to use more, he wouldn’t have been able to it was so embarrassing.” Your face is beat red. “But, just him doing that on top of everything else, it was incredible, he made me feel so good.”

“That’s great, so you didn’t like feel scared or anything?”

“I was a nervous wreck, but he managed to relax me enough so I could enjoy it. And then I, um, returned the favor. For the first time, in a long time, I felt like my old self.” Niall nods along as you talk. “It’s still going to take me some time before I’m ready for more of him, but I think this was a really good step for me, for us.”

“When do you see Dr. Mara next?”

“Um, tonight actually. Is it weird that I’m excited to tell her what happened?”

“Not at all. You should be proud of the progress you’re making. You seem like yourself again, which I’m happy to see. Is Harry goin’ home with you next week?”

“Yup, just doing a day trip, but I’m glad he’s coming with.”

“Me too, I know how anxious you get.”

“I’m worried my dad is going to grill him.”

“He’ll be able to handle it, he’s great with parents.”

“You know how my dad is though.”

“True…it’ll be an interesting day for sure.”

Harry brings a case of beer over to Niall’s for their little guy’s night. Niall ordered Thai food for the two of them, and handed him a video game controller. It had been a while since they played FIFA.

“So, (y/n) said you two had a nice weekend.” Niall says giving the game a pause an hour after playing.

“Yeah, it was amazing.” Harry cracks open another beer. “She let me finger her.” He said bluntly, maybe a little buzzed from his third beer.

“You don’t say?” Niall was trying to be coy.

“Mhm, well, only with one finger, but she seemed to enjoy it. And then she gave me the best head I think I’ve ever had.” Niall nearly chokes on his beer. Harry starts laughing. “Sorry mate.”

“It’s fine, what did she do?”

“I don’t know, it was like, okay I was expecting her to basically curl up and be shy right after I did it to her, but it was like, I can’t even describe it. She became this really confident person and took complete control.”

“Sounds about right.”

“How would you know?”

“I’m dating her best friend, I’ve heard a thing or two. Please, continue.”

“She just took it, better than any other time, and when I came, she kept suckin’ on me.”

“Oh, I love when they do that.”

“Right? She had told me she was gonna do it too, she was like I’m gonna suck ya dry, and she fuckin’ did. I couldn’t believe it.”

“She said that to you!? Jesus, Sarah like refuses to talk dirty.”

“I’m surprised by that.”

“She’s great in bed, believe me, but she just won’t do it. I’ve tried to get her to, but I think it makes her nervous or something.”

“What does she like?”

“Well, she certainly likes when I talk to her, that’s for sure.” Niall laughs. “She likes that I take good care of her.” He clinks his bottle with Harry’s. “Thank god for watermelon.”

“Thank god for watermelon.” He takes a swig of his beer. “What can I expect from her family?”

“Her dad’s a bit rough around the edges, and her siblings can be a bit judgy, but once they warm up to ya it’s fine.”

“What do you mean judgy?”

“They like to ask a lot of questions. She’s the youngest by a lot. Her siblings are like a good age difference older than her, so she’s not just their little sister, she’s their baby.”

“But, she’s also my baby.” Niall smiles funny at Harry, and puts his hand on his shoulder.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you speak so fondly of someone before.”

“I think, I think I’m in love with her.”

“What?!”

“Yeah.”

“When did you come to this realization?”

“Over the weekend, when I took this picture of her.” Harry shows Niall his phone’s wall paper.

“Aw, Harry.” He ruffles his hair, and Harry swats his friend’s hand away. “I don’t think you’ve ever said you’re in love before.”

“That’s because I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before.”

“When are you gonna tell her?”

“I have no idea. She just let me do this really big, intense thing with her. I don’t want to make it more intense. Plus, what if she’s not there with me yet?”

“You won’t know unless you talk to her.”

“I think I’ll just love her from afar for now. You know, she caught a cold and wouldn’t even let me take care of her?”

“The nerve.” Niall says sarcastically. “She probably just didn’t want to get ya sick, mate.”

“Enough about me, you’re going to meet Sarah’s family soon?”

“Yup, and I’m staying the whole weekend too. Her family is like three hours from here.”

“Good luck with that. Gonna sleep in her old room?”

“I think we’re getting’ a hotel actually. Thank god, I am too old to be sleepin’ in a little twin bed.”

“At least your feet don’t hang over the edge when you do sleep in one.”

“I’m not that short! You’re just freakishly tall so I look short compared to ya.”

“Whatever you say.”

“Well, we can both agree that we’re not as tiny as Lou.”

“Yeah, he’s a pipsqueak.”

You felt great after therapy. Dr. Mara thought you were making excellent progress with yourself. You had a big bowl of soup for dinner, and took some Nyquil to help yourself sleep through the night. You did that pretty much every night that week. Luckily, by Friday you were feeling much better, and your period had ended. Things were looking up.

Niall texted in a group chat to see if you wanted to go bowling that night. Both you and Harry agreed it would be fun. Rachel and the girl she had been seeing were invited as well. You couldn’t wait to see Harry since you hadn’t seen him all week. You decided to leave your hair down in waves. You wore a black pair of skinny jeans, and a light pink crop top. You wore a cardigan over it so you weren’t totally exposed. Sarah and Rachel came over to have a drink with you before heading to the bowling alley to meet your respective dates.

The boys and Rachel’s date (Lora) were waiting by the two lanes they had reserved. Harry looked good enough to eat. He was wearing his dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt, and his beanie. You practically ran into his arms, suddenly realizing just how excited you were to see him. You gave him a deep kiss, deeper than what he was expecting, leaving the others to be surprised at your PDA. You clear your throat when you see everyone staring. You and the girls go up to the counter to get your shoes.

“How should we make teams?” Niall asks.

“Let’s do girls versus…I mean, um, Lora would you pair up with the boys, and the three of us could be a team?” Sarah asks.

“Works for me.” Lora shrugs.

You and your friends were good bowlers. You often went bowling on Thursday nights in school.

“Let’s order some food and drinks before we get started.” You suggest. “Harry, wanna help me?”

“You got it.” You both walk up to the snack bar. He leans down to whisper into your ear. “You look so fucking hot tonight, feeling better?” It sends a shiver up your spine.

“Much.” You order a couple pitchers of beer and some pizza. He gives your bum a quick pinch as you walk back over. “Hey.” You give him a fake annoyed look.

“Sorry, but those jeans really suit you.”

You get into your teams, and start bowling. You, Sarah, and Rachel all get strikes off the bat, leaving the boys and Lora speechless. The bowling had strobe lights come on after a certain hour and started playing club hits. You and your friends dance while you wait your turns. The beer definitely hits your head quickly. Your pizza is brought over, so the six of you take a break. Rachel puts an arm around Lora, and you smile at them.

“So, Lora, what do you do for work?” You ask, taking a big bite of pizza.

“Right now I’m in grad school, I’m a GA. I’m trying to become a Biology teacher.”

“Wow! That’s so cool.”

“Thanks.” She smiles at you. You wanted to be as welcome as possible. She seemed to already know Sarah pretty decently.

After a while, you and your friends were more interested in dancing than bowling. You were at Pinz, so it’s not like you had to drive anywhere to go dancing.

“So, we think we’re gonna over to the dance floor is that’s cool with you guys.” Sarah says to the boys.

“Sure thing, I think we’re gonna bowl a bit more and then we’ll meet ya.” Niall kisses her on the cheek.

Rachel grabs Lora, and the four of you head over to the dance floor on the other side of the building.

“I really don’t want to dance.” Harry says, sucking his teeth.

“You danced with her fine at Halloween.” He throws the ball, knocking six pins down.

“I was hammered that night, big difference.” Harry throws his, knocking eight pins down. “We’re really not very good at this, are we?” He laughs.

“Look, girls like it when you dance up on them. So, we’re gonna put our shoes on, and go dance with our girlfriends, and you’re gonna like it.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

Harry and Niall put their shoes back on, and make their way to the dance floor. The DJ had just put on The Hills by the Weeknd. Harry knew you’d be freaking out, you loved The Weeknd. They spotted your group, Harry stopped to just watch you dance for minute. You had this specific way you liked to move your hips to the beat. He noticed the way you’d flip your hair around and close your eyes while you sang along.

You were starting to sweat, so you took your cardigan off, and tied it around your waist, revealing your full crop top. Harry wasn’t thrilled that just anyone could see your stomach, but he could either stand there and pout, or go over, dance with you, and show anyone around you that you were his. He sighed and walked over to you while Niall was just wrapping his arms around Sarah. Rachel and Lora were lost in each other, not paying attention to anyone else. Harry grips your hips from behind and pulls your butt to his pelvis, you squeak out a giggle.

“Hey baby.” You lean back into him as you move together.

“This would be easier if this wasn’t in the way.” He says into your ear, referring to your cardigan. You turn around to grind against him front to front.

“How’s this?” Before he can even answer your mouth is on his. He pulls you closer to him so your breasts are pressed against him. You swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, and he opens up for you. You mold your tongue to his, sucking on him slightly. You feel the strain in his pants become more evident against your leg. You moan into his mouth, and that was enough for him.

“Okay, we’re leaving, yeah?” He says to you. Your cheeks were rosy, and your eyes hazy.

“Your place.” Is all you say. He looks over at Niall and nods towards you. You wave goodbye to your friends, and walk out holding hands with him.

Luckily he drove, and was sober enough to drive. He didn’t drink that much while you were bowling, and you had drank way more than you thought. You kept a hand on his thigh the entire drive. You really were acting like your old self, and it felt great.

Harry keyed into his place, and you slipped your tennis shoes off. He looked at you and untied the cardigan around your waist, letting it drop to the floor. You wrapped your arms around his neck while he picks you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, and he walked you over to the bed. He sits down, letting you straddle him. Your lips go right for his neck while your hips roll down on him. His hands slip inside the back of your jeans to squeeze your ass.

“I missed you this week.” He says into your ear. You bite down just under his earlobe, causing a groan to leave his mouth. “Don’t make me wait an entire week to see you again.” You suck harder on him. “Please.” You lift your head to look at him, your lips now swollen.

“Show me.”

“Show you what?”

“Show me how much you missed me, Harry.” Your eyes were hooded, pupils fully blown. You wanted him, bad. A devious smile grows on his face.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes.”

He lifts you up, and sits you near the headboard. He moves to hover over you, he runs his thumb over your bottom lip.

“I missed these lips, pressed against me.” He says taking your bottom lip between his teeth. A hand slides down to cup your breast. “I missed these pressed against me with the way the cool from your piercings sends a shiver up my spine.” He says into your ear. You can’t help but let out a moan at the way he’s teasing you. His hand moved down to your crotch, pressing his palm against your center. “And I especially missed this, the way you’re always so wet for me.” He nips at your earlobe.

“Harry, please.” You say with a heavy breath.

He moves between your legs and undoes your button and zipper, pulling your pants down. You lift your hips to assist him. He tosses them to the other side of the bed. You’re wearing a cute pair of red lace panties. You sit up and tug at the hem of his shirt. He lifts his arms so you can take it off of him. You run your hands up and down his torso. You take his beanie off and run your hands through his soft curls. He tugs at your crop top. When it comes off his jaw drops.

“You weren’t wearing a bra this whole time?”

“No, why would I wear a bra with that shirt? It’s practically already a bra.”

His face goes right for your chest as he wraps his arms around your back. He pulls you to sit on his lap. He kisses between each breast, your head rolling back at the way he takes the time to suck on each nipple equally. You don’t know what is it is tonight, but you feel really sexy. However, your eyes start to feel droopy.

“Harry, I think, um…” You try to open your eyes back up. “I think I feel sleepy.” You say, passing out

“Oh, shit.” Harry sighs, and lays you down. He grabs a glass of water and puts it on the night stand for you. He rolls you onto your stomach, and sticks a small trash can on the floor, just in case you throw up. He didn’t realize just how much you had drank. The combination of beer, and drinking a lot of tequila at the bar with your friends must have did you in. He takes his pants off, and climbs in next to you.

You wake up the next morning with your hair a mess, and your face smooshed into the pillow. Your head is killing you and it hurts to look into the light creeping through the blinds. You turn over to reach for Harry, but he wasn’t in the bed. You don’t remember much from last night. You remember him picking you up and bringing you to the bed, then nothing. You still had your underwear on, but your other clothes were missing. You sit up slowly, wondering where he could be. You hear a flush from down the hall, and sigh. He was just in the bathroom. He smirks when he sees you sitting up, covering yourself with the blanket.

“Hey you.” He says, sitting on the edge of the bed next to you, only in his boxers. “Feelin’ alright?”

“My head hurts.”

“Here.” He has two Tylenol in his hand and drops them into yours. You take the glass of water on the table, and pop the pills into your mouth. “You, uh, scared me last night.”

“Hm? Why, what happened?”

“Well, we were making out and you just sort of passed out. How much did you drink?”

“God, I don’t know. We had tequila at the bar, so between that and the amount of beer I had while bowling.” You nearly gag. “Not a great combo. I’m so sorry if I ruined our evening.”

“You didn’t, it was still a really fun night. Maybe, just, if we go out like that again…not drink so much? You’re not in college anymore, (y/n).”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You say, a little annoyed with his tone.

“Nothing, just you don’t need drink to excess every time you go out with your friends. You don’t see me doing that.”

“Only when Louis is around.”

“One time you saw me like that, and if you noticed, I didn’t pass out. You’re lucky you didn’t have your head in the toilet all night.”

“I don’t appreciate you lecturing me.”

“M’not.”

“Yeah, you are. I don’t see them that much, nor do I get to go out dancing and drinking that much anymore. So if I want to party, I’m going to, Harry.” You see your crop top on the floor. You get up, covering your chest, and put it on. He squints at you, unsure of what to say. “And now you’re all quiet is that it? Is daddy done giving me a stern talking to?” You roll your eyes and walk towards the bathroom. You hear him get up and follow you, he stops you from closing the door. “I have to pee, do you mind?”

“What the fuck did you just say to me?”

“I said, I have to pee.”

“No, before that.”

“You heard what I said, I’m not repeating it. I don’t need you treating me like a baby!”

“That’s not what I was doing! Am I not allowed to be concerned? You literally passed out in my arms. You scared the shit out of me (y/n).”

“Well, I’m sorry for that, really I am. I would never intentionally try to scare you. But sometimes these things happen. I don’t usually drink like that. You make it seem like I’m not allowed to have any fun.”

“You are allowed to have fun, but you’re-“

“Not in college anymore?” He just looks at you, almost defeated. “Trust me, I’m aware.” You sigh. “Look, I know I’m in the wrong here, I get that. But please, do not talk to me like that. I don’t need my boyfriend acting like he’s my father.”

“I wasn’t doing that. So, what, am I not allowed to call you out on shit? That makes me your daddy?”

“You can call me out on shit, call me out on whatever the fuck you want, just don’t talk to me like that!” You slam the bathroom door closed, causing your head to throb. You sit down to go to the bathroom, and start crying. You brush your teeth and wash your face quick, wiping your tears away. You knew you were being childish. He was probably up all night worried about you, and this is how you act? It was your first fight, and you didn’t like how it felt.

You open the door slowly, and walk back down the hall to find him sitting on the bed with his head down, twiddling his thumbs. He doesn’t want to look up at you, even though you’re standing right in front of him.

“Harry, I’m sorry I yelled at you. I’m sorry I got so mad. It was a stupid thing to flip out over. You took care of me last night, and instead of being grateful, I acted like a brat.” He looks up at you, his eyes are red. Did he cry too?

“I’m sorry I set you off. It wasn’t my intention to talk to you with that tone. And honestly, you were actin’ like a brat, I didn’t like it.” You look down at your feet, in fear you may just start sobbing. “Look, next time we go out with them, or if it’s a girl’s night or somethin’, could you maybe just dial it back? All I meant about the college comment was that you can’t just bounce back the next day. I know I can’t. It’s okay that you want to party with your friends, I don’t care about that.”

“No, you just care that you didn’t get to touch me last night.” You wipe a tear from your eyes as he stands up, towering over you.

“Wanna run that by me again?”

“That’s why you’re upset right? Because you didn’t get to diddle me, or that I didn’t get to do it to you? Because, because baby missed me all week?” You were starting to be cruel. You grab your jeans from last night, and put them on. “I had a fucking cold, and you made me feel bad about it. I just needed some alone time to recover, and you didn’t want to give it to me.” Harry blinks over and over, and then pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger.

“So which is it?”

“What?”

“Am I baby or daddy?”

“That’s what you’re choosing to focus on here?”

“You’re using pretty derogatory terms, (y/n). Why didn’t you just tell me I was buggin’ you last week, instead of bottling it up?”

“Because I didn’t realize it bothered me until just now.” You cross your arms over your chest. “I was just fine without you. I made myself a big pot of soup, I bought some Nyquil, and I even got myself the good tissues. I feel like you think I’m this helpless little girl sometimes.”

“I don’t think that. I’m sorry I wanted to make sure you were okay and be there for you. Fuck me, right?”

“Don’t turn this around and make me feel bad for being truthful.”

“You’re purposefully saying nasty things to me!”

“I think I should go.” You take your phone out to order an uber, but Harry grabs your wrist. “Let go of me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“No. You don’t get to just walk away while we’re arguing.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s childish? Let’s just figure this out like adults.”

“There’s nothing to figure out! We’re having a fight, and I don’t want to be around you right now, at the risk of saying more nasty things.” You yank your wrist out of his grasp. “And the next time I tell you to get your hands off me, you better fucking listen.” You scramble to grab all your things, and rush out of his apartment, slamming the door behind you.

“What the fuck just happened?!” He says to himself. Your first fight. Over something completely stupid, all because he called you out on your crap. Did you always act this way when you did something wrong?

Why were you acting like this? Oh, you knew why. It was the hormones from your new pack of birth control that always made you act like a raging bitch. Harry got caught in the crossfire this month. No, you can’t blame all of this on hormones. You knew every word that came out of your mouth was going to cut him, deep. Why did you want to hurt him? Anxiety. Were you pushing him away so he wouldn’t want to go home with you? You could punch yourself in the face for acting the way you did.

You screamed into a pillow the second you got into your apartment. You took a long hot shower, and got into some sweat pants and a sports bra. He hadn’t texted or called, you knew you had to be the one to do it. You picked up your phone and swallowed your pride.

“Hi.” He says after waiting three rings to answer. Your voice breaks and you cry into the phone. “I can’t understand you.”

“I’m, I’m so sorry. I was acting like a child. I said such hurtful things to you. It’s not an excuse, but I think I’m just getting anxious about Thanksgiving, and I think I was trying to push you away. It was so stupid. I was wrong. There I was telling you not to speak to me a certain way, and I spoke to you like an asshole. You didn’t deserve that, especially not from me.” You wipe your eyes. “I love you so much, Harry, please I’m sorry.”

“What, what did you just say?” What did you just say? You admitted that you loved him.

“I, I said I love you.”

“I love you too, (y/n).”

“Really?”

“Yes….I’m coming over there.”

“Okay.” He hangs up, and practically races to his car. He couldn’t believe this is how you said this to each other. How cliché, during a fight.

#haary styles #take it slow #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles angst #harry styles fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles y/n fic #please don't be mad at me #they were due for an argument #it was too perfect

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #398

“freedom is just man’s invention, & a soldier is just a slave”

What do you do the most when you’re online? Watch/listen to YouTube. Do you have a bobblehead? No. Have you ever spent your birthday alone? No, that sure would suck. Were you afraid of heights as a child? Actually no, but NOW I kinda am. Have you ever had a lead role in a play? No. Would you ever take a solo road trip? No, that sounds super depressing and lonely. Do the mountains fascinate you? Of course! So much history built into a magnificent, awe-inspiring piece of nature. Have you ever been insulted or called names by a significant other? Wow, no. I wouldn't tolerate that for a second. What’s your favorite movie battle scene? The fight between Simba and Scar is very powerful imo. Have you ever been to a same-sex wedding? No, but not because I'm opposed. I'd love to go to one and be the photographer. What’s your favorite Marvel movie? Probably one of the Spider-Man films. I don't remember which it is, and I don't want to spoil it by explaining what I do recall. Did you have a Walkman when you were a kid? No. What’s the most difficult experience you and a significant other have gone through together? Being long-distance when we really wanted each other's physical comfort. Have you ever attempted to pick a lock? Did you succeed? Yes, because Ashley locked her keys in the car. I don't remember if it worked, actually. Have you done the Bratz doll challenge for YouTube? No. I've seen a couple people do it, though, and it's both cool and creepy. Does the hospital in your town have a good reputation? NOOOOOOOOOOOO. What is your favorite nickname that you’ve had? "Bee" from Megan. Have you ever gotten a professional massage? No. I would be SO uncomfortable. If you had braces, do you wear your retainers still? No. :/ Well, the one you put in, anyone. I have a metal one behind the front row of my bottom teeth. If you had braces, have your teeth moved since you got them off? Yes. Do you know anyone personally who’s lost a child? I know way too many people who have suffered miscarriages. Do you take your medications regularly? Yes. What’s one luxury item you wish you could afford? An actually nice house. What’s your favorite thing to do in a swimming pool? Just kinda casually swim around. Have you ever been abused by a cop? No. What is one thing that you took to show-and-tell as a kid? My Snorlax plushy. Do you remember losing your first tooth? No. In the summer would you rather have the windows down or the A/C on in the car? I strongly prefer A/C. Have you ever been addicted to a game? What game? I had a long-time addiction to World of Warcraft for a couple years or so. I still play it now, but I'm not addicted to it anymore. As a matter of fact I get bored of it easily now. Which was better: the original The Lion King or the sequel? The original, but I love both very much. Do any of your grandparents have a tattoo? I don't know if any did. Do you believe that your pets feel love towards you? Roman, 120%. It is so obvious. Venus, no, as reptiles are literally incapable of experiencing that emotion. I do, however, know she trusts me. Are you proud of your body? FUCK no. Have you ever been rushed to the hospital in an ambulance? No. How do YOU believe the world & universe started? I don't know. I feel like MAYBE there is some sort of ultimate intelligence that formed the universe (maybe prompted the Big Bang, though I've always been dubious of that occurring naturally), but I don't think of this topic frequently at all. Does it really matter, after all? We're here, so just focus on that and live in the now. Have you ever stuck gum under a desk/chair? NO, that shit grosses me the hell out. When shopping at a grocery store, do you return your cart or just leave it? Return your fucking cart, please. It is NOT that difficult. What is one thing you’d never want your parents to find out? Certain places I've, uh, "done" things. When you were little, did you like Dr. Suess books? Yep. I seriously loved Green Eggs and Ham. What would you consider unforgivable? Rape is #1. Would you rather give your food to a homeless shelter or money to charity? Food to a homeless shelter, but I'd love to do both. What was your least favorite year of your life so far? 2016 was a fucking NIGHTMARE. Have you spent money on a game online? On one occasion, I asked if Mom would reactivate my WoW account, and when two expansions came out, I asked if she could buy them. I HATED asking. Thankfully, now, I'm rich enough in the game to pay for the "token" currency, which renews your subscription for a month, so I essentially play for free now. Have you been called a bad influence? Yes. Have any self-done piercings? Noooo. I only trust professionals. Ever pierced someone else? Again, no. Leave it to professionals, as well as someone without tremors. If you had a child with down’s syndrome, would you keep him/her? IF I wanted kids, of course I would. It really, REALLY bothers me when DS is the reason behind abortion. Mind you, I am pro-choice, but come on... Don't treat down's syndrome children as a curse. If someone tried to murder your child, do you think it would be wrong to expose them publicly and talk about it on social media? Of fucking course I would. I'd damn that person to hell myself. Is there a toxic person that you miss? I sometimes miss Colleen. Are you still contemplating going back to someone you shouldn’t? With Jason, yes. If he actually wanted me back (that will never happen, but anyway), I fear I'd say yes and probably would, realistically. When was the last time you had a new crush? When I realized I was bisexual. Do you want Jesus to come back soon? Back when I was a Christian, I was terrified of Judgment Day. I don't believe in it now. What is something you can’t wear because of your body type? I COULD wear whatever the hell I wanted, but I refuse to wear crop tops or strapless tops (or strapless bras). Oh, and thongs. No thanks. If you have curves, do you like them? I'm not curvy naturally, I'm just fat. Have you ever worn matching pajamas with someone? No, but that'd be cute. Has anyone ever mistaken you for being anorexic? No way. What fast food place do you avoid at all costs? Arby's, to name one. Are you afraid of deep sea creatures? Yes, especially giant squid. Have you ever agreed to purchase something on Ebay and got scammed somehow? Ugh, I got Ico THREE TIMES and they were ALL broken; they'd freeze in the first few minutes. Has anybody ever given you a promise ring? No. What is your favorite kind of cake? Red velvet. Honestly, have you ever eaten raw cookie dough? Yeah, multiple times. Were you outdoors or indoors more as a kid? I'd say it was a split down the middle. Have you ever had a relationship that began via text? Jason, Tyler, Juan, and Sara all began over text. Girt asked me out over Facebook Messenger. Do you think sloths are cute or ugly? They're cuties! What eyeshadow suits you best? I only wear black eyeshadow. Do you watch the show Wizards of Waverly Place? I did as a kid and really liked it. Have you ever been to the rainforest? No. I don't think I could handle the humidity, though I'd love to see all the beautiful wonders. Are you a member of any clubs? No. Would you shave your head with a friend who had cancer? If it was someone I was very close to and they were extremely self-conscious about it, I'd probably be willing to get very short hair, but I don't think I could handle no hair at all. How did you meet your pet? Roman was one of the kittens of Ashley's mother-in-law's cats. She has way too many cats and needed to get rid of the kittens, and I'd been wanting one like mad. I found Venus via the online reptile-selling hub called Morph Market, and I became VERY interested in the many, many ball python morphs, and when I saw her, I immediately knew that was my baby. Did/Do you have any PEZ dispensers? I did as a kiddo. What are some of the phrases in your personal ‘bingo’ card? "Mood," "can't relate," "hi, how are ya," "jinkies," "yikes," "oof," shit like that. Have you ever been through a trap door? No. Do/did you have to wear a uniform to your high school? No, only middle school. How many video games do you own? A whole lot. Have you ever visited a sex shop? No. Have you ever ridden a bicycle through a busy city? No, I'd be very scared to. Do you use Instagram? How often do you post there? I have two for my varying photography subjects. I post very rarely on both. Have you ever had a scary encounter with a wild animal? I have not.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''civilize the universe'' by ozzy osbourne

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