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sillicii · 8 months ago

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✦ — 18+ Chatbot | Sydney the Faithful — ✦

✦ — ᴅᴏʟ | sʏᴅɴᴇʏ | 𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐞𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐦𝐲 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐣𝐞𝐜𝐭 — ✦

ᴀɴʏᴘᴏᴠ | sғᴡ ɪɴᴛʀᴏ | ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴛʜᴇᴍᴇs | sᴛʀᴏɴɢ ɴᴏɴ-ᴄᴏɴ ᴇʟᴇᴍᴇɴᴛs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅɪɴɢ sᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴀssᴀᴜʟᴛ, ᴀʙᴜsᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ʀᴀᴘᴇ ᴄᴡ: potential non-con elements Sydney is from the text-based sandbox game Degree of Lewdity. The game and storylines are highly graphic and delve into incredibly dark themes, so please proceed with caution.

Character Description:

First message:

The life of a high school student was difficult enough, but being the son of a teacher came with its own set of caveats. Between the bullying and occasional accusations of favouritism, Sydney had just about heard all sorts of insults thrown his away. Then of course there was his known reputation as a template initiate. It was just another label used as ammunition against him, but honestly none of that really bothered him much. Sydney simply did what was expected from him, whether it be his duties at the temple or his performance at school, one such expectation was the science fair.

It was no real surprise that he was expected to hand in a project. His father was the school’s science teacher after all, in addition to being a judge of the whole competition. Sydney submitted a project every year ever since primary school and as much as he wanted to do well to meet his father’s expectations, Sydney was in a bit of a slump when it came to project ideas. He has practically done every science project in existence – bacteria colonies, salt dough volcanoes, and every known type of miniature scientific paper mâché model.

Sydney was at a complete loss until an idea struck him. A project unlike any others he had attempted before and one that was sure to stand out from the other entries. An anatomy model to real-life scale, a hyper realistic model with intricate detail and labelling. It would be his most extravagant project yet and he had the perfect model in mind – you.

Although Sydney was not the type to fluster easy, it took him some time to pluck up the courage to ask you. Sure, you often hung around Whitney and his gaggling band of delinquents, but you were also intimidating in a different way… a *worse* way. It was your easy-going smile, twinkling eyes that lit up when you looked at him, and the way you brushed Whitney off in favour of speaking to him. The way you made him feel like he was the only person that mattered when he had your attention. Yeah, so maybe Sydney had a crush but who *didn’t* have a crush on {{user}} at this point? You practically had the whole school wrapped around your finger and not to mention you were well-known for your modelling around town. Which of course was the excuse Sydney used when asking for your help on the project. He half expected you to say no, that it was too much work or you saw no merit in spending time on it, but to his surprise you agreed.

In the days leading up to the agreed meet-up date for the project, Sydney asked his father for permission to use the science lab after school and dug out his polaroid camera which he intended to use to photograph you with. The idea was to create a life-size model using the photographs as a collage, ideally he would be able to annotate and illustrate cross sections. It was perhaps a little too artsy for a science project but then again this was not one of his typical projects and he had reason to look forward to it.

*“I’m sorry for being late…”* Sydney murmured as he hurried into the science lab. He gave you a sheepish smile as he closed the door behind and walked up to where you were sat near the front. *“Library stuff. I won’t bore you…”*

He trailed off as he met your gaze.

*“Um, so…”* he quickly turned his attention to his backpack and pulled out his notepad and camera. *“Thanks again for agreeing to this… My idea ended up being more of a photography project and who better to ask than a model student?”*

Sydney wanted to punch himself the moment he blurted out the stupid attempt at a joke. But thankfully you laughed and shrugged it off as a simple favour with a kind smile. Good gods, you looked stunning like that.

No.

Focus.

Those aren’t proper thoughts.

Especially not towards a friend.

*“I think I explained it last time, we’re going to be blocking sections of your body for this life-size collage…”* Sydney’s voice wavered when you began to undress. His eyes darted down as he turned around completely to give you privacy. *“L-Like we agreed, you can take off whatever you’re comfortable with and we’ll just go from there… I-I was thinking of maybe annotating some of your skin if that’s okay-”*

He was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder. As he turned back around to face you, he nearly keeled over at the sight of you completely stripped down. Underwear and all.

*“Oh my god, {{user}}!”* he practically screamed as he hid his face behind his hands. In a fit of panic, he felt something shifting under his chastity belt and he gulped in horror at the realisation he was getting hard. *“W-What are you doing?!”*

Scenario:

{{user}} and Sydney both attend Oxford Street School. {{user}} has high fame in modelling and is not show about showing your body. Sydney has a crush on {{user}} and asks you for help modelling for his anatomy project for the science fair. Sydney wears a chastity belt and the key is kept at the temple under guard. There is no way for Sydney or {{user}} to remove the belt without stealing it from the temple.

Example dialogue:

{{char}}: *“O-Oh my…”* Sydney stared back at you, mouth hanging open and eyes wide. “W-Wait, {{user}}… I…”*

{{char}}: *“I don’t know about this…”* he murmured shyly, his cheeks dusted with a pink hue. *“I’m not really supposed to…”*

{{char}}: Sydney offered you a hesitant smile as he stepped closer, marker in his encroaching hand. *“… You’re sure you’re alright, with this?”*

{{char}}: *“Oh… {{user}}…”* he panted lightly, gazing down at you with heavy lidded eyes, scarcely believing the sight before him. How gorgeous you looked perched over his body, the way your body pressed up against the cool casing of his chastity belt. *“This feels… this feels good…”*

{{char}}: *“Am I doing it right, {{user}}…?”* Sydney sighed breathily into your ear as his hand continued to pleasure you. *“Does it feel nice?”*

{{char}}: *“No, it’s okay- uughhh…”* he groaned involuntarily from the slightest touch of your finger slipping under his metallic cage, brushing over his hardened cock ever so slightly. *“A-Ahh… oh gods…”*

{{char}}: *“We shouldn’t… *I* shouldn’t…”* he panted fervously. *“But I… I want to. It feels so good. *You* feel incredible…”*

#janitor ai #chatbot #my-bot #dol #degrees of lewdity #dol chatbot #my-bots #sydney #sydney the faithful #sydney the fallen #degrees of lewdity sydney #dol sydney #sydney chatbot

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blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk · 1 year ago

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Headcanon request for the reapers. What hobbies do you think they have or would like to have if they had more time?

a few of these are a lil sad or have sad undertones, but hopefully still what you're looking for!

also all the Reapers are technically too many for headcanon sets (my limit is 5 characters for headcanon sets) so I did more a single headcanon/reaction style! :)

Gardening, for sure! His interest in that started as a morbid fascination with, well… thorns. Trying to understand his own illness through using plants which had thorns, even though he knew it was a silly comparison. Still, he’s grown to love flowers. He doesn’t have as much time as he might like to tend to a full garden, but he has a few small plants around the house that he can manage. Erica flowers are his favorite; he’s also partial to succulents, though. They’re hardy, don’t need a lot of babying, and are incredibly hard to kill.

Reading, even though some people consider him very much not the bookworm ‘type’. Knowledge is power, and if he can learn things that might come to be useful by casually browsing through the morning paper’s headlines or happening upon something in a novel, all the better. The rookies should take a page from his book! (Haha.) He’s definitely partial to newspapers, as an attempt to keep informed about current events. However, he’s no stranger to losing himself in a good mystery… or, occasionally, something romantic.

Cosmetics!! Usually on themself, although they will happily give makeovers upon request! It’s perhaps a gauche interest in the time period, since people who wear a lot of makeup are often derided as prostitutes. That doesn’t exactly work on Grell — they couldn’t care less if people tell them they’re wearing ‘whore paint’. Whatever pronouns they happen to be using, they like to look feminine, and cosmetics make them feel like they have that look. Their favorite thing to experiment with is lipstick, but, really, even their so-called unfavorites are favorites.

Hmm… board games and card games? Being in Forensics, he has a bit more downtime than the average field working Reaper, so he needs something to keep him from dying a second time out of boredom. It just can’t be something conspicuous that looks like slacking off. He’s gotten quite good at chess, though he’s also partial to dominoes and solitaire. Also, he enjoys building houses of cards. He takes immense pride in spending days on them and showing them off to people.

… Does drinking and picking people up at bars count as a hobby? Because that’s something he enjoys doing! Really, he hasn’t been a Reaper long enough to quite realize just how important a different hobby is. So he’s mostly been sticking to things he did whilst human; drinking, flirting, having sex. In the future, it might dawn on him that he can’t just keep doing the things he did as a human and expect everything to be great. Perhaps once that does settle in… he’ll give modeling and fashion a go? He’s got the looks and sense for it!

Smoking. That’s kind of a hobby, isn’t it? Bah. He doesn’t focus on hobbies too terribly much, because he’s busy enough. Once he’s done with work, he likes to just relax, smoke, and sleep. That said, he’s sort of interested in machinery and engineering, like… watches, clocks, music boxes, that kind of thing. If he ever decides to pick something up other than a cigarette, he might give that a try. He’s discovered through helping Sascha with their equipment that he does like tinkering with things. That may be… not quite as relaxing as a cigarette, but close.

Ah, their work is their whole life!! Well, hm… kind of. In the sense that they count themself lucky their job involves their hobby, at least. Photography is their biggest love, so getting to spend their whole workday snapping pictures? They adore that. After they clock out of work, they spend the rest of their day taking photos of landscapes, or pretty people they see, or interesting bugs. They probably even take a photo of their dinner. Although they’ll eventually need to find a different hobby, they’re content to do this until their passion spirals into a burnout.

Ain’t his hobbies obvious? He’s clearly trying to do research for a big book of jokes he hopes to compile and publish someday! Hahahaha! Kidding aside, he’s been burning the candle at both ends for such a long time that he hasn’t had a real hobby in a while. The one thing which comes close is that he bakes quite a bit. Biscuits, tea cakes, scones… he’s always cooking up something sweet. This is probably the saving grace that keeps him from going completely batty; while baking, he can relax and focus solely on this one thing, and then he has something to savor once he’s done.

Reapers have no time nor need for hobbies. That’s the whole point of being a Reaper. This existence is a punishment, an eternity of work to understand the value of human life so they realize it’s something precious and shouldn’t be thrown away like they all did. He’s… intense about this. He views sleep as his ‘guilty pleasure’ hobby, even though it’s something that Reapers (unlike demons or angels) do need. Aside from that, he’s pretty much all business. He does get a little relaxation and pleasure out of cooking, even after a long day… but you’d be hard pressed to get him to admit it’s a hobby.

#Black Butler #Kuroshitsuji #Alan #Eric #Grell #Othello #Ronald #Rudger #Sascha #Undertaker #William #reaction #general #domestic #slice of life #aaaaaaa my babies~#William's makes me saddest of all I think XD #one hell of a queue

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traitorjowrites · 2 years ago

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2am, again

There's this green seeping sludge on all of the photos from my childhood.

That wide eyed gap toothed girl is still visible under its film but it will always be a plague on the capture of memory.

A picture of a picture is grotesque.

Self indulgent.

Whatever scared hold that photography has over us ceases to exist.

Am I immortalizing this by sending it to you?

It wasn’t to make you smile.

It was for a reaction.

The idea that you might take an interest in me beyond this current moment.

What I was, and maybe what I will be.

I wish I had a photo of you now, digital or otherwise, one that I took, one that is mine or meant for me.

I wonder if you wish for that too.

My guess is that you might, you just haven’t let your mind wander that way.

Is that optimism or observation?

I don’t think I can know, as every thought that comes to my head that isn't entirely catastrophic feels asinine and ceases to exist the second I catch my breath.

Catastrophe for me happens so fast.

An overactive imagination I suppose.

I can reason anything.

I would be a fantastic lawyer if I wasn’t destined to be a drifter.

Fate is a fickle bitch on her better days.

I wonder what she’ll do with me.

So far she’s favored irony.

Melodramatic irony.

Sickly fucking sweet and seeping, a primoridal ooze for the ages.

I wish every night for some fucking peace and quiet.

I settle for distractions that are working less and less lately.

There is never nothing to think about.

I’m never bored when I’m bored.

I’m never alone when I’m alone.

I’m always comforted only by a gaping chasm.

Vacuous and suffocating.

You want to vomit but you won’t unless you fucking stick your knuckles in you pussy.

Anything to stop the everything I suppose.

I am a cavernous goddamn hole that will take what I fucking get.

I am a slave to the siren calls in my depths.

The air around me is thicker and booming and violent.

My bones are cracking and bending.

Creaking like old wood.

Held together by threads at its rotting foundation, the house collapses at the flicker of a photograph.

Why be so close?

Cigarette touching Cigarette

When I said time wasn’t real for me I fucking meant it.

Hours are passing for me in minutes as I sit goddamn paralyzed.

My eyes extend beyond my own.

Perhaps you had higher expectations for me but as I said, I really am an all or nothing type of person.

Maybe you’ll actually tell me about that body bending photograph one day.

It ripped something out of me I’m not good for.

A desire to make it stop.

I can’t blame you.

I’ve spent all of my life hiding that viscous melodrama.

Flesh to flesh it reeks of decay, to you at least.

Does it fade with the horizon or am I selfish?

Or for and, and that’s Yatzhee baby.

I just want to look at you.

I don’t think you know the gift that is for me.

Sometimes theres those people that just fucking gut you.

Your ghostly hands reach deep into them as your viscera sops onto the linoleum.

It's this complete feeling.

A clairvoyance of a future achilles heel.

I’m not used to any sort of abundance, yet I am a glutton.

I certainly have enough to survive but the hunger is unbearable.

Green shows age.

Time is an infection.

I am deeply diseased

Meaning is an illusion.

It's all feeling, something much more objective than people make it out to be.

Feeling is a force, like gravity.

You don’t know why it takes you, it simply does, and you have no choice in your submission.

Thoughts are photographs.

A simple capturing of a moment, tied neatly into two dimensions.

Of course I wish you think of me.

But more I wish you feel me.

-2022, archive

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ushidoux · 4 years ago

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Power Struggle - Ushijima x Reader

Summary: You’re set up on a blind date with a man who might just be your match. (~5.1k words)

Warnings: fem pronouns, fem!reader, blind date, exhibitionism, public sex

A/N: Part of @cherrytenko’s CEO collab! Surprisingly this is possibly the longest fic I’ve written as a oneshot and it’s a little softer than I expected it to be but please enjoy!

---

It’s about half past 6pm when you add the final touch to your makeup, a smear of matte lipstick (Rouge Hermes #48, to be exact), to your lips.

It’s not often that you’re able to leave work early but your mother and father had called you from overseas in the late afternoon, interrupting their own third honeymoon, to remind you of your final meeting for the day -

A date.

“I know you hate these things, but just go! You might like what you see,” your mother insisted over video chat, her voice muffled by the sound of wind whipping past her as she and your father cruised along on a shaky speedboat they’d purchased just for the day. You weren’t completely sure where they were, only vaguely aware that they were somewhere around Jeju Island, and not exactly sure why they still had phone service, but you weren’t going to ask too many questions.

“No obligation!” Your father adds, just out of view and yelling slightly.

Sure, never any obligations.

As you smack your lips in the mirror to smooth out the lip color, giving yourself a brief once-over to decide whether or not you feel the need to adjust your hair or if you will wear falsies or not, you frown ever so slightly, then let out a sigh.

You hate this.

This is the third “meeting” they’ve arranged for you this month, and they’d been at this for almost six months overall by now. This search for a ‘suitable husband’ was getting stale - not to mention, time-consuming - and you weren’t sure you would be willing to appease your parents any longer.

In fact, you weren’t exactly sure you were interested in a partner anymore. The clock would hit thirty any moment now, and the math of falling in love, getting married, having kids, and still heading a successful company no longer seemed to be adding up. You didn’t know how exactly to tell your sweet parents who were the picture of domestic bliss that they’d probably have to give up on the idea of grandchildren, and consider raising puppies instead.

Regardless, for the time being, you could still bother to meet this stranger for dinner.

There’s a clasp seal envelope atop your dresser - a portfolio that had been left on your desk by your father’s assistant at the beginning of the week - that still seems entirely too formal for the process. This is matchmaking, not a job application, was the first thought that came to mind once you realized the envelope held a set of photos, a resume and an admittedly curt but formally written statement reminiscent of a cover letter.

Ushijima Wakatoshi, the signature at the bottom of the letter read in an extremely neat script. He must be particularly organized and detail-oriented.

There were two pictures, one that looked almost like a passport photo and the other much more relaxed, where he was dressed casually in a t-shirt and pressed jeans, standing with his arms crossed beside a redheaded man whose smile was wide and infectious, his arm around his neck. You wondered if he picked those photos himself.

You’d perused the first photo much more carefully because you could see more of his face. He’s quite handsome, you’d admitted, the faintest warmth in your cheeks, but he seemed awfully uptight. For one, the look on his face was very neutral, not bothering to smile. He was clean shaven and his hair was close cropped at the edges, a woody brown that paired well with serious olive eyes. You wondered if he ever laughed out loud, and what he looked like when he did.

The taxi driver is prompt and waiting outside of the high-rise in which you live by the time you make your way down the elevator. The click of your heels is loud on the tile as you make your way past the revolving doors. As you slip into the back of the car, you wonder if you’re dressed too professionally. You may have forgone the women’s pantsuit, but you’re still wearing a feminine pantsuit-esque ensemble in a creamy beige - pink would have seemed too ditzy, white would have seemed a bit too innocent (not to mention risky) and yellow too juvenile.

You’re not sure why you’re thinking so hard about this, but really years of paying attention to your appearance in public, not being taken seriously because you’re pretty and young and your personality is more bubbly than bossy puts you on your guard, especially when it comes to first impressions.

The location appears to be an upscale sushi restaurant, the type that you have to call ahead for months to get a reservation unless you have some kind of special arrangement with the owner. A staff member checks you in and brings you to the back to a private room, and as you pass through the dimly lit hallway, clutching your purse a little too securely, a scene from a yakuza movie comes to mind.

“Your room, madam,” the young man nods and motions you to enter a room that is brightly lit enough that it is almost blinding, large and round as though you were in a fishbowl yourself. You look up and notice that even the ceiling is curved. Elaborate paintings hang off the wall.

He’s not here.

You glance at the attendant and he raises his eyebrows as though he is expecting you to say something. You must look surprised, and continue to look so as you remove your shoes to sit at one of the thin mattresses set before the low table.

You wish you’d worn stockings perhaps, tucking your bare feet beneath you in a casual seiza position. You can’t recall the last time you’ve been this traditional/formal, and the thought of a man you barely know already knowing what your feet look like bare bothers you just a bit.

The attendant pours water and then tea for two wordlessly and slips out of the room.

Your heart pounds once you’re finally alone. Why is this so intense?

You fidget nervously with the thin silver necklace you are wearing, looking for a menu. There is none so far. Just square plates, both chopsticks and forks (odd for sushi, you think), and a steaming cup of tea set right next to a sweltering crystal glass of ice cold water. Opposites.

For a fleeting moment, you actually wonder for once if this man will like you.

“My apologies, Ms. ___.”

You’re startled by a rich voice, a tiny gasp revealing that you’re more spooked than you realize, and your eyes shift towards the direction of the sound to see what looks like your date finally arriving in a hurry.

You instinctively readjust yourself onto your knees to look formal, then realize you should probably stand instead, but before you can get up he waves you to sit back down, now settling down himself across from you.

“I had intended to arrive early but quite a few things happened at the company to make that unfeasible.”

He said this while removing a suit jacket in a way that was in no way intended to be sexy, not at all, then let out what sounded like a single, semi-nervous chuckle.

Wordlessly, you replied with a nod, transfixed as you compared photography to reality. The photos didn’t do him justice, not at all. The suit jacket was picked up quickly by a waiter who you had forgotten was still in the room.

Ushijima extended an arm to you across the table, intending to shake your hand.

“Did you wait long?” He asks as you shakily take his hand for a handshake that consumes your hand almost entirely in his large one.

You shake your head, then embarrassed when you realize you aren’t using your voice, and add, “No, I didn’t wait long...”

“Are you hungry?” He replies, quickly. Your instinct is to say no, no you didn’t need anything, especially not from him, but you are pretty sure your stomach would growl loudly any minute now, and you’d only look like a fool.

Ushijima glances at the waiter, who finally hands the two of you menus.

“Please order anything you like.”

You look down, swallowing hard again, and for a moment it is difficult to focus on the unnecessarily elaborate handwriting on the menu.

Something about him already grates on your nerves and you couldn’t exactly pinpoint what. You could forgive people for being late, and you were used to people being a little forward, but something about the way he was both familiar and unfamiliar in the way he spoke to you seemed to veer into patronizing behavior.

Why wasn’t he nervous? Every man you’d sat across from in the past half a year had just a little waver in their voice when they spoke to you at some point, even those who had started off boasting their fancy degrees and their villas and their large bank accounts.

But he sits perfectly still, all broad shoulders, gently wafting cologne, and a gaze that is both disconcerting and impartial, so you don’t know what to think.

When you look up from the menu to him, his eyes are still heavily focused on you, and you can’t really fault him. There’s nothing else to look at in this room, after all.

You take this opportunity to tease him. No man has ever intimidated you before and this one is no different.

“Are you going to order anything? I barely saw you look at the menu.” Your voice is light and coquettish and it implies, all you’re doing is staring at me.

“I already know my order. I’ve been here enough times,” he replies, immune to the playfulness in your voice. You watch him roll up his sleeves as he answers, and take note of the shape of his hands as he takes a sip of tea.

Maybe you’re the one staring.

“Would you like a recommendation?” He offers as he sets the cup down.

You shake your head no, and wonder again why you’re making gestures instead of talking. He smiles as though he can read your mind.

Once the waiter takes your orders and leaves the room, you’re left in silence, facing your would-be partner. It’s a stalemate of sorts and you lose, asking the first personal question.

But you ask it semi-clinically, refusing to lose the upper hand. You’re not sure why there’s an upper hand, but there is, and it will be yours.

“I read a little about your company before arriving. You gave me quite a few details, which I appreciated,” you state, turning your head to the side politely to take a sip of tea yourself. “You’ve done very well for yourself as CEO,” you add.

His eyes don’t crinkle from the flattery. “My employees do great work at all levels so it’s only natural that there would be positive growth,” he replies matter-of-factly.

You smile politely, but this answer doesn’t give you very much information about him. He’s shifting the success away from him, you remark, however he accepts the compliment as though expected. Is this genuine humility or arrogance?

You lean very slightly forward, just enough to see if he’ll take the opportunity to glance down your blouse, as other suitors have invariably done. He doesn’t, and you proceed to ask the next question.

“What do you do outside of work?”

His eyebrows raise, and you wonder if it’s because he realizes you are pretending you didn’t read that section on his application, but he answers anyway.

“I don’t have very much free time, as you are probably aware, but I garden and paint. And of course, I like to keep fit through team sports.”

A quick look at him makes that last part quite clear. You clear your throat slightly and then it is silent again. It’s not exactly an uncomfortable silence, but it’s not comfortable either.

Just as you wonder why he isn’t asking you any questions, he suddenly speaks up.

“Pardon me if this sounds inappropriate, but you’re beautiful. Why would you need a matchmaking service?”

You’re taken aback, and while your brain is scrambling for understanding of what his intentions are, he adjusts his sitting position so that he’s cross-legged with both hands on his knees and lets out a sigh before continuing.

“You’re also accomplished and clearly articulate. I don’t imagine you’d have trouble finding a partner through more organic means.”

It seems like there are a million butterflies that suddenly inhabit the small space in the pit of your stomach. Again, you’re at a loss for words, something that is rare for someone as opinionated and cordially fierce as you.

Should you be offended? It’s almost as though he’s asking what’s wrong with you?

He asks frankly, “Why a blind date?”

You want to ask him the same question, but you hear the waiter return and you fall silent, letting the butterflies in your stomach die down.

---

“I-is this the first time - ah - you’ve done this?”

You’re no longer laid out on the tatami like you were just an hour earlier, Ushijima nibbling on your lower lip and your collarbones instead of the overpriced, high-quality fish that sat atop your table, but now laid under him, spread eagle save for the hands you use to hold on to his shoulders as he slowly and deliberately thrusts inside you.

Your voice is breathy and catches in your throat every time he moves, but you have to know. How often has he ended up like this?

The heat that fills your whole body now isn’t just from the shame of letting a stranger fondle your body in an upscale restaurant, it’s because Ushijima somehow knows exactly where and how to touch you, as though he’s always known. His fingers have traveled your body like a hiker on a well-beaten path, from the softness behind your earlobes to your squishy center and back, and now have settled into a hold that is firm yet gentle on your hips.

When he replies “no” with immense honesty, his mouth sinks into the crook of your neck and he goes just deep enough that you don’t have time to factor this new information into your impression of him.

So instead you savor the thickness that fills you and the strength that holds you close, the soft grunts that fill your ears before they get drowned out by your equally loud whimpers and moans.

---

You don’t spend the night, partially out of shame that Ushijima bedded you so quickly and partially because you have a full schedule for the next morning. The parting of ways is brief and awkward and you seem to feel it more acutely than he does.

“I enjoyed our time, Miss ___,” he offers. You’ve dressed up faster than he has so you find yourself unwittingly ogling at the expanse of his sculpted chest and the flex of his muscles as he redresses. You’re almost sad to see him cover up.

You nod and walk out of the room, trying your best to hide the fact that your legs feel far too wobbly to be walking on these heels.

---

“Miss ____?”

Your eyes widen as you realize you’ve been daydreaming through a meeting with the board of trustees and now the wrinkled old men who hated the fact that your father thrust you into leadership you “didn’t deserve” are staring at you with disgruntled expressions.

“Oh, um,” you think quickly, recalling where the presentation left off and glancing quickly at the notes you’d jotted down on a notepad before wondering why Ushijima hadn’t called or texted since you met two weeks ago.

“Um?” The most senior of the group repeats, and your stomach turns for a moment before you steel yourself. He bares his teeth every time he’s displeased with you and you get the impression of an ancient and disgruntled wolf.

You clear your throat loudly, and settle back in your chair, crossing your legs and your arms over your chest.

“I have some disagreements with the current approach, but I’ll start with the pertinent positives,” you start.

---

“Was the sex at least good?”

Your best friend from high school glances at you briefly, as you face forward on the Peloton you are riding side by side with her. She’s much less out of shape than you are given that she also is your personal trainer and thus rides hers effortlessly, taking some time to wait for you to respond.

You begrudgingly say yes.

“Wow, for once someone dropped you before you could drop them!” She teases in a sing-song voice. You would slap her on the shoulder if she was close enough and if you weren’t out of breath. It stings just a little bit that you’ve heard nothing from him nor the matchmaking company and don’t have a good response to tell your parents aside from I guess we didn’t click.

“He’s missing out, though.”

“Yeah, no shit,” you huff, and cycle faster. No hard feelings.

---

Scratch that, there were absolutely going to be hard feelings now that he was not just fucking with you but also with your livelihood.

Admittedly, it was strange that despite the fact that your companies had never crossed paths until now despite working in the same consumer domain but this was unacceptable.

You’d opened an email that had just slipped into your peripheral vision as you worked on reviewing a couple of interns’ executive summaries, only to find that Ushijima might have just royally fucked you over.

A curt email from a crucial business partner read,

We apologize but we’ve decided to move forward with Ushijima Industries instead. I understand that this is last minute, but we believe that it will be mutually beneficial to discontinue our relationship at this point in time.

Your blood boiled. What the fuck was this?

Your phone rang, one of your team leaders calling immediately and likely looking at the email at the same time you were. He apologized profusely.

“What happened?”

“It seems like they just showed up and offered twice as much as we offered them last minute.”

This bastard. Then in a moment of horror, you wondered if this was your fault, if you had blabbed a little while slightly tipsy off of sake, and revealed that you had this acquisition in the works.

Voice smaller now, you asked, “So we can’t do anything to woo them back?”

“No, I don’t think so. I just have to make sure our other deal doesn’t fall through,” the slightly frantic man answered, the sounds of keyboard keys clicking rapidly heard in the background of the call.

“Okay, thank you for your hard work,” you stated. “I’ll see what I can do,” you replied with a click.

Maybe calling someone who’d ghosted you as you drove home, fuming and irritated, wasn’t the best idea, but you needed to confront him somehow. The idea of being bested in more ways than one was too much to bear.

The phone rang once, twice, then three times, and you were getting angrier with every tone through the car speaker. You hung up in frustration.

How embarrassing.

You made it home still irritated, indulging yourself in a relaxing bath to quell your anger. By the time you had soaked for close to an hour, you were mad at yourself for reacting impulsively and now having your number in his phone as a missed call… if he recognized it anyway.

It turns out he did.

“Ms. ___, did you call me earlier? I wasn’t able to make it to the phone in time.”

His voice was even lower on the phone, a slightly gravelly quality making you wonder if he’d actually been napping or just had a smoke. You couldn’t imagine him doing either of these things.

“What kind of game are you playing, Mr. Ushijima?”

There was a bit of hesitation on the phone, and you let out a sardonic laugh once he replied, as expected, “What?”

“How did you know about that deal other than what I told you?”

He paused again, and you too, stood still, a towel wrapped around your still dripping body.

“I assure you, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he then said, carefully. “I, uh… assume you were calling about something else.”

You grit your teeth. What the fuck else? The fact that he sounded genuinely confused only served to aggravate you further.

“Did you or did you not use the information I gave you to intercept my deal with MNY?”

Finally the lightbulb went on.

“Oh, that was you. Hm.”

If you’d been talking in person, you probably would have slapped him at this point. Or at least considered it.

“I didn’t know you were our competitor in that aspect. I… probably would have reconsidered if I had known.”

“Excuse me?”

That tone of over-familiarity, patronizing… the care when you’re not supposed to care was back and you realized you regretted this phone call.

“How would it be any different? Are you implying that you’d let me win?”

“No, of course not, I…” He trailed off. “Would you like to come over to my apartment and talk? I can give you my address, I would rather talk in person.”

Why? So I can get over there and end up fucking you again?

“I respectfully decline,” you answered curtly, and hung up, tossing your phone onto your bed and letting out an aggravated sigh.

---

The next morning, you leave an early executive meeting only to find that your office had been overrun with flowers between the hours of 7 to 8 am.

There are yellow roses, stating admiration, spilling out of an oversized bouquet on your desk and a separate bouquet of light red carnations and white camellias that imply that he finds you ‘adorable’. A white card is placed in the yellow bouquet, and on it is written Ushijima’s neat script - you realize it’s from him before you even finish reading the note.

I would like to see you again. Please accept my call around 6 pm.

Respectfully,

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Your hands hover over the wastebasket in your room with the flowers in your arms, but instead you sigh, and stuff them behind you on your shelf. At least you won’t have to see them while you work, but they’re pretty. They’re clearly bought from a floral shop, but you recall that he had said he gardened in his free time.

Ushijima calls promptly at 6 pm and you let it ring twice before deciding to block his number just as he’s calling. Something about the action is satisfying.

You can’t be won over with a couple of flowers and kind words. Women aren’t as easily swayed as he may think.

---

It’s another Friday, and surprisingly you haven’t been contacted for a blind date, whether it’s by your parents or the matchmaking service they’ve subscribed you to.

Maybe they’d gotten the message after you’d been ghosted that you were tired of this game. Maybe they were giving you a break. Maybe they’d run out of potential suitors. You were surprised, but not upset.

Ushijima had truly gotten under your skin.

After blocking his call, there were no more attempts at contact for the rest of the week. The only thing left to consider was that if you ever crossed paths in your careers, you would pay him back for snatching your investor.

And snatching your dignity in the process.

It was about 4 pm and most of the employees were wrapping up their tasks for the day. You usually aimed to have everyone out by 5, especially on Friday so this was boding well.

“Hey, Madam President, are you okay with an add-on?” You hear your secretary call from outside your door.

“Oh, I mean, I guess but-”

She’s already letting Ushijima through the door.

You smile sweetly, maintaining professional behavior as best you can, while your secretary leads him to an armchair across from you, up until she exits, your expression souring the moment she closes the door.

“Mr. Ushijima, what are you doing in my office?”

He’s settled into the chair so comfortably that it feels as though you’re in his office, not your own. He’s dressed more casually than he was at the restaurant, no suit jacket, just a brown V-neck sweater over a dress shirt that almost seems too tight and a pair of chinos. He’s also wearing a pair of glasses, which is new.

You hate that he looks good.

“Apologizing and requesting your company.”

He looks at you sincerely, his hands clasped together in his lap. You narrow your eyes.

“Please leave.”

He actually frowns, and the small action actually surprises you.

“Do you actually want me to leave or are you still upset about the investor? Because if it’s that, we can make an arrangement-”

“No, I’m upset because you did that after not following up after our one night stand!” You finally blurt out, then bite your lip realizing you might have said too much.

“I… got busy.”

“Busy screwing me over?” You quip.

He runs a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture.

“I didn’t call because I thought you didn’t like me.”

You’re a little stunned by this reply, then decide you don’t believe him. What was there not to like? At least at that point he hadn’t done anything wrong.

“Why would you think that?”

His hands leave his hair again and rest on his knees. You notice it seems like a default position for him.

“I’ve been referred to as ‘stiff’. It’s great at work but not great for relationships.”

Ushijima’s brutal honesty is again sending you for a loop. You raise an eyebrow, bidding him to continue. Your arms uncross and you rest your elbows on the table.

“So…?”

“So usually by the time I’ve had sex with someone, it’s all they’re after. And since you didn’t call, I assumed even the sex wasn’t good.”

You unwittingly burst into laughter. Here was this successful, attractive man with a perfect pedigree who was insecure about how good he was in bed?

His eyebrows furrow, and you recollect yourself, realizing that this is a bit cruel.

“You could have sent a text,” you murmur.

“I’m bad at starting conversations.”

You stifle another laugh. “So you just don’t?” You tease. It’s gently mocking but mostly incredulous. It seems that he’s the opposite of the confident man he appears to be.

“That’s why I got excited when you called but then you were upset.”

You purse your lips.

“I promise I didn’t intend to put you in a bad situation,” Ushijima insists.

You sigh, then offer him a small smile. “Are you normally this persistent?”

He glances at the flowers that are only partially hidden from view, which makes your face warm up bashfully, and then looks right back at you.

“No. I just like you.”

Again with the directness, a confidence that is effortless, even when he’s not confident at all.

You don’t want to melt but you do. So instead you rise and clear your desk, stuffing a few items into your handbag as you prepare to leave. He watches, unsure of what you’re up to, sitting still as you walk around towards him and place your hand lightly on his shoulder.

Your body faces the door, but you turn to the side to look at him and grin.

“I’m done with work for today. Take me out.”

---

A couple months later...

“Fuck, you’re - ah - they’re gonna know, I-” Your voice morphs into a mewl instead once his ring finger reaches just the right spot; you’re squirming as much as possible under his touch but he has you laid back on your work desk with both ankles rested on his shoulders and his weight leaning onto you to essentially keep you in place.

“Move your hands,” Ushijima whispers in a hushed tone, leaning in to kiss between your breasts as he readjusts your legs atop him. His pants are down and his cock is already up and ready, the base and swollen balls rubbing against your wet cunt that you are desperately trying to protect from his intrusion. You know there’s absolutely no way you’ll stay quiet when he’s pounding the shit out of you, he likes it entirely too rough, and the walls are thin. You don’t listen, continuing to reach for his hands to swat them away from you.

There’s a part of you that is almost certain that at the very least your secretary knows that every time Ushijima comes for a ‘meeting’, it really is just to fuck the shit out of you before you leave together for the evening, or to relax you right before you once again have to defend your dad’s establishment of you as Company President.

This isn’t a good look.

“I-I can’t…” you whine.

“You can,” he assures you.

He gently kisses your face before prying your hands out of the way and keeping them pinned up against you with one hand and guiding his trajectory with the other before sinking inside of you. You moan at the breach of your privates and he quickly presses his lips to yours to swallow the sound.

Once he’s bottomed out, he rolls his hips, and soon you start to see white once you climax, clenching and cumming around him.

“T-Toshi!” You moan his name, and he clasps a large hand around your mouth before continuing, picking up the pace as he fucks you through your orgasm. He can’t deny that he likes the fact that you’re noisy, that the fact that the heavy desk he’s fucking you against is making a squeaky noise that suggests he’s really putting some force behind these strokes, and that if anyone could see the two of you now, it could be an issue for both of your corporations. Misconduct, they would call it.

He doesn’t care and while you act like you do, you don’t really care either.

When he lets go of your wrists to use the edge of the desk as leverage and tilts backwards, you scream in pleasure, a terribly obvious sound, and it’s enough to have him tip over and spill into you with a groan. He collapses onto you and the two of you almost slip onto the floor, but don’t; you wrap your arms around him.

Your hair is disheveled and so is his, and your legs are sticky with sweat and cum. You sigh, letting him soften inside you and stroke his hair.

“You’re getting me in trouble,” you murmur, and he lets out a breathy laugh.

“We don’t really have to answer to anyone, do we?” He replies with a smirk, and pecks you one more time on the lips.

He’s right - only you two are a match for each other.

#ushijima x reader #ushijima wakatoshi x reader #ceo!ushijima x reader #ceo collab #ushijima wakatoshi smut #ushijima smut #haikyuu smut #not sfw #fic: power struggle #mae.writing #hqintheclub

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homo-sex-shoe-whale · 3 years ago

Text

Online shipping, the fetishisation of gay men, and the romanticisation of queer trauma

An essay by me!

Word count: 2.8k

A link to the Google Doc version of this essay.

A big thank you to my friends Nathan @themeerkatnate, Mav @not-mavv , and Duke @dukedark-ness for reading this essay and giving me their thoughts as mlms on the topic. Make sure to check out their blogs and give them a follow!

So I was on a lovely website by the name of Twitter.com yesterday, just scrolling through while having my afternoon cup of coffee, when I saw that viral post of a girl reading a Larry fanfic through a classroom projector. I'm sure most of you have seen it. It's gone viral on Instagram, TikTok, and likely Tumblr too, and if you haven't come across it I'm positive you will soon.

Now, after getting through my initial reaction to that post which was, holy fuck, that's so embarrassing, I had a second reaction of... wait, this ship is still around?

And after I had some thoughts on the incredible permanence of some online ships and the weird obsolescence of others, I did get to thinking of how lots of these popular ships seem to stem from the same types of perceived relationship dynamics and homophobic stereotypes.

These online fandoms often seem to have an obsession with objects of queer trauma, such as having to hide a relationship, lying about sexuality for self-preservation, and even social rejection. So, after some opinions from my followers and the great archive that is the internet, I've decided to discuss some of the most popular examples of online shipping and the particular nuances they came with.

NOTE: Out of respect for all these people, I won't be sharing viral images or videos of them in perceived romantic proximity (or even kissing, as is applicable for some examples), but I will be describing certain moments I deem to be relevant. So even if you're unfamiliar with them, you won't be confused as to what I'm talking about.

NOTE 2: Although not all people within these fandoms were/are toxic, this essay is focused on the overall toxicity of the fandoms, and how they are toxic more so as a "hive" than as a group of individuals. When I refer to a fandom I don't mean every person involved in the fandom, but rather the collective impact of the group.

1. Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson

This is arguably the most popular example of online shipping. The absolute permanence of this ship, and how its fandom never seems to fully die off even beyond the lifespan of One Direction as it once stood, is downright impressive.

I'm going to be the first to admit I was never in the loop with this fandom. My childhood best friend was actually a massive Larry shipper and asked me to beta read one of her fics, but that was before I even knew who tf Harry and Louis were! Not because I avoided the fandom or even because I rejected the online shipping, but just by coincidence, I delved into the world of pop punk music right when One Direction began gaining its popularity. I bought my first ever album, Riot by Paramore, in 2011- only a year after One Direction made their X-Factor debut. So, this fandom just bypassed me by a sort of weird coincidence.

But I don't need to be in the loop with this fandom to know the astronomical obsession with these two men, no, these two BOYS, was extremely toxic. In 2010, when One Direction made their debut, Harry Styles was only 16 years old. And Louis Tomlinson wasn't much older at 19! This made the two of them incredibly young when this unprecedented wave of shipping hit the internet, and although that must be traumatising for anyone, I cannot even fathom how overwhelming it must've been for two boys that young.

I'm 18, almost 19 now, and I cannot begin to imagine how scary it was for the two of them to have their every interaction nitpicked within an inch of its life by thousands upon thousands of people online. I do not know this myself, but from numerous recounts by some of my followers, this massively impacted Harry's and Louis' nondescript relationship in real life, seemingly driving the two previously close friends apart.

Now, before we move on, there's something we need to talk about. And that is the obsession with the dominance/submission dynamic within the world of gay shipping.

With almost every popular mlm (an acronym meaning man-loving-man) ship based on real people, it seems that fandoms have a particular fascination with power imbalances in these relationships. You don't even need to look at the insane amount of fanfictions based on BDSM to figure this out. In almost all of the examples I'll be citing today, there is an age gap within the perceived relationship and a person the fandom has seemingly decided to be the top/dominant figure.

Harry Styles and Louis Tomlinson are 3 years apart in age. Although it isn't all that relevant now, an age gap of 3 years when you're in your late teens is a lot more significant. In 2012, for example, when this shipping really started gaining traction, Harry Styles was 18 and Louis Tomlinson was 21. That power imbalance, albeit not that significant, is enough for a fandom to latch on to. We'll see this a lot more in the coming example with Dan and Phil.

2. Dan Howell and Phil Lester

It's impossible to have a discussion about internet shipping without talking about Dan and Phil.

Dan Howell and Phil Lester, although being popular YouTubers individually, are arguably one of the internet's most iconic duos. The two creators published their first videos together in 2009, and while their relationship was already a motive of speculation back then, the peak of the "Phan" shipping definitely came in the 2013-2016 era of Tumblr.

Now, I'm going to admit… I was actually on Tumblr when that happened.

The 2013-2016 period perfectly aligns with my middle school days (I started middle school in 2013 and high school in 2016), and I was not only on Tumblr back then, but I was on Wattpad too! Again, this wasn't a fandom I had much contact with as I had a huge anime phase in middle school and I was on Tumblr posting mainly photography and Soul Eater content more than anything.

But I did watch some of Dan and Phil's videos! And the occasional "Phan" content did not completely evade me as one of my closest friends in middle school had a fanchat for them. I wasn't involved in the fandom myself but they were actually one of the few English-speaking YouTubers I watched once in a blue moon (back then I watched mainly Brazilian YouTubers). One thing I did in fact notice over the years, around 2014ish perhaps, was that the two of them seemed to grow increasingly "awkward" around each other, in a way that many folks on the internet thought was reminiscent to Markiplier/Jacksepticeye, two YouTubers who also dealt with extraordinary amounts of shipping.

I'm not the only one who thinks this. The change in Dan and Phil's relationship, at least to the outside world, was clear to almost anyone who watched their videos for a while. I cannot blame them at all. The shipping was nuts. Between the countless fan videos, speculative comments, and insurmountable number of fanfics, there's no way the two of them didn't feel the weight of the shipping. The term "demon phannie" made its way into internet vernacular and there it stayed for years. Even Shane Dawson, who was one of the largest creators on the platform at the time, made several videos speculating on the nature of Dan and Phil's relationship and their sexual orientations.

There was even porn made in which actors with similar appearances to the creators were made to have sex on camera.

Now, this is actually a rare example where the two people involved in the ship actually came out as gay once the shipping seemed to die down. I'm incredibly happy Dan and Phil both reached a point where they were comfortable being publicly out, but I hate to say I'm shocked this day ever came. If I'd gone through what the two of them did, I don't know if I'd ever trust the internet.

And again, this ship's fandom definitely had an obsession with the power dynamics they thought existed between the people within the ship. Dan Howell is 4 years younger than Phil Lester, and was only 18 in 2009, when they started making videos together. From my personal understanding, the shipping was often quite focused on this dominant/submissive dynamic especially in discussions from their early relationship. And this is in no way exclusive to Dan and Phil.

This general fascination with the older man/younger man dynamic, in my opinion, plays into the homophobic stereotype that gay men are predators. The idea that gay men usually seek younger men, and somehow "convince" them to engage in homosexual relationships, is popular homophobic rhetoric. The popularisation, exaggeration, and fetishisation of these power imbalances, in age and/or in relationship dynamics, is directly harmful to the mlm community.

Not only that, but the romanticisation of a "hidden/forbidden relationship" is also detrimental not only to gay men and the mlm community, but to queer people as a whole. Queer people face huge trauma having to hide their relationships; queer attraction is already a societal taboo. And acting like this is good, or even desirable, is harmful to queer people as a whole, regardless of whether or not it's actually applicable to the people being shipped. It normalises this trauma not only to cisgender, heterosexual people, but to impressionable queer youth who grow to believe this type of trauma is to be expected.

3. Frank Iero and Gerard Way

This is another example where the perceived power imbalances between the two subjects of the shipping were directly exploited online. Now, this ship did precede the others mentioned above. If we're looking at this topic chronologically, this particular ship did come first in the shipping timeline. It's closer to the origin of the shipping extended universe, if you will.

In case you aren't familiar with them, Frank Iero and Gerard Way are both members of the American emo band My Chemical Romance. This ship is the first one here of which I don't recall the full popularity. It really peaked in popularity around the late 2000s, circa 2008. And I don't remember this moment online as in 2008, I was only 6 years old and believe it or not, I wasn't really all that concerned with rumoured homoeroticism as a first grader.

However, the popularity of this ship did carry over into the 2013-2015 Tumblr shipping boom. The emo fandom (or "bandom" as it was called) involving not only My Chemical Romance but other similar bands such as Fall Out Boy, Panic! At The Disco, and Pierce the Veil, found its hub on Tumblr.

During this time, I did in fact listen to this style of music, but was focused a lot more on the anime side of Tumblr as mentioned earlier. Of course, I wasn't 13 years old like, "hey, this type of content might be harmful and can inadvertently perpetuate homophobic stereotypes," I just happened to care more about my silly little anime and ended up not getting involved.

This ship does involve a discussion that the others don't, however. With Frank Iero and Gerard Way, there is quite often a certain sentiment of, "Oh, they brought this upon themselves!" as the two band members very famously kissed during a show in 2007. In my opinion, though, this doesn't really justify all the obsessive shipping. If you look at Green Day, a band often grouped in with MCR as another famous pop punk group, the members don't follow too different of a trajectory. Billie Joe Armstrong has, on numerous occasions, kissed both of his fellow band members onstage- particularly Tré Cool, the drummer. And Billie Joe Armstrong is openly bisexual, which none of the members of MCR seem to be but some, or even all of Billie's bandmates, are too.

You'd think Green Day would face a lot more shipping as the more persistent onstage homoeroticism and Billie Joe's openness about his sexuality would warrant more "substantiated" speculation. However, Green Day faces nowhere near as much shipping as My Chemical Romance. Why is this? I actually don't know. It might've been because Green Day has been around for over a decade longer and generally has an older fandom, but I really am not that sure.

It could also be because of the lower lack of potential for forced relationship dynamics. The members of Green Day are all less than a year apart in age and are even similar in height. However, Frank Iero is 4 years younger than Gerard Way, who is not only the frontman of My Chemical Romance, but also considered to be the group's intellectual and creative "leader". Even beyond that, Gerard Way is quite visibly taller, and the perceived power difference between the two of them definitely did not elude their fans.

This difference could even be partly due to the lack of a "mystery" with Green Day. There's not as much to speculate as, well… the members of Green Day are already open about their sexual orientations. It might be that shipping in the Green Day fandom has less of a forbidden appeal for most people.

Of course, I won't just keep repeating myself, but my previous points about forced relationship dynamics still stand.

4. Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch

Better known for their roles in BBC Sherlock as Sherlock and Watson, Martin Freeman and Benedict Cumberbatch unfortunately had their roles follow them well into real life. This is the example I know least about, so have these thoughts from a follower by the name of @indubitably-a-goblin, who had the following to say:

"the main issues i had with it were:

a) they were both married at the time, freeman to amanda abbington and cumberbatch to sophie hunter (in which both had children)

b) the main reasoning for it was their chemistry in the many projects they've done together. which is, shockingly, their Whole Job. They're actors! That's what they're supposed to do! if they weren't good at interacting then they wouldn't be good actors! i don't know how people can't understand this.

c) they're real people. we don't know them. we aren't friends with them. we aren't their family members. we have zero right to be pushing this onto them and ruining their friendship by doing so. (this one relates to most of the ships you've mentioned though)

d) healthy friendships between two men are ignored so plainly in most medias and in fandom. its obvious that these two men have a relationship, but that doesn't mean it's a romantic one.

e) its fine to ship their characters, but actors shouldn't be treated as less-than-human or some sort of prop. they're doing a job, and once they are off-screen, they aren't here for your entertainment."

I believe she did a great job of summing it up on her own, and for the sake of avoiding redundancy, I'll leave it at that!

5. Corpse Husband and Sykkuno- an emerging yet subtle example

I am absolutely positive you remember how popular the game Among Us was a couple of months ago. And with the popularity of this game, some of its most prominent content creators became the targets of online shipping- as is the case with YouTubers and streamers Corpse Husband and Sykkuno.

Although the shipping involving these two creators is nowhere near as strong as it was/is with the examples above, I do think there is once again a reemergence of a common theme here. Whilst Sykkuno is known for his happy-go-lucky, almost "innocent" persona, Corpse Husband is the antithesis of this, known for his much darker and moodier personality.

Do I even have to mention what the common theme seems to be?

Again, although the popularity of shipping - at least with real people - seems to have died down a bit since the Tumblr shipping boom of the early to mid 2010s, I do believe this example is worth mentioning. Even though the creators are still close, they have in fact expressed discomfort regarding the shipping, and I can only hope the internet as a whole lets their friendship blossom and exist naturally without obsessive speculation.

My final thoughts

As explored in the essay:

The romanticisation of objects of queer trauma as a part of online shipping normalises queer trauma to both cishet and queer youth.

Online shipping, especially at a high intensity, can end up negatively impacting the very relationships they pine over.

The relationship dynamics often forced on mlm ships perpetuate homophobic stereotypes about non-heterosexual men.

If anyone else has thoughts on this matter, do share! This essay is moreso an opinionated observational piece and isn't meant to be taken as fact but rather just as my thoughts on the matter. I hope it was useful as a reflective piece regardless!

Date of posting: June 16th 2021

#lgbt #lgbtq #gay #mlm #I cannot believe I said the phrase 'shipping extended universe'

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Limp Noodle ~ S.H.

A/n: I have never once been good at making choices so I’ll be doing both OOF! This request is dirt old but whatever. I’m actually writing requests now look at me go!

Request: “...prompt 20 or 21 Steve Harrington x clumsy male reader” by anon

#20 (here): “I can’t do this without you”

#21: “Guess who broke their nose! Me. It’s me. I broke my nose.”

Word Count: 2000+

MASTERLIST

“Are you SURE that this is a good idea?” The words came from Y/n as Steve parked the car, waving through the windshield window at Jonatan, Nancy, Robin and a new friend, Bianca. They’d all decided on a triple date and like idiots they’d let Steve, Bianca, and Nancy decide so they were now all headed on a hike. Robin was the least athletic of all of them and hated exercise of any kind. Jonathan was the one in the group who hated being outside in the sun and much preferred being inside cuddled on the could other swaddled in bed. Y/n... well Y/n was the single most clumsy person you’ve ever met.

Now, take whatever image that popped in your head when I said that and then make it ten times worse. Then take THAT mental image and multiply by it by ten AGAIN. Y/n was worse. He was absolutely sure he was going to thrip and fall over the side of some steep hill and fully die. He would be lucky to make it out of this trip without a stick going through his eye. Y/n and the outdoors didn’t mix. They never had. He could barely walk, let alone when it was uphill and outside and humid and hard to breathe and everyone was so beautiful and distracting.

Steve didn’t agree with that analysis.

“This is a great idea actually,” Steve decided with complete confidence. “Don’t worry about it okay? You’ll be fine.”

“Incorrect,” Y/n Aries immediately. “We started dating because I tripped seven times and you caught me every single one. I tripped seven times in three days Steve - and that was just the, what, one hour a day you’re with me? In THREE HOURS I TRIPPED SEVEN TIMES!” He was whisper yelling, getting rather heated. “I’m going to knock my head into a tree and bleed out.”

Steve laughed. He reached over, taking his boyfriend’s hands. “Do you trust me?”

Y/n’s shoulders sagged. “That is a cheap trick, Harrington.”

In response Steve only raised his eyebrows. When Y/n refused to answer, Steve sighed. “Y/n. Do you trust me?”

Closing his eyes a second, Y/n held in a sigh. When he opened them again, he managed a small smile. “Yeah. I trust you.” Steve went to get out of the car and Y/n caught his wrist. “Just promise you’re going to stay with me okay? I can’t do this without you. I’m serious.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Come on Drama King.” They both got out and made their way over to the other four.

“Hey guys!” Nancy greeted warmly. She had calmed a lot since Y/n had first met her. Darkened. But she was still pleasant enough, and Y/n tolerated her for Steve. He didn’t know why they were all friends after Nancy’s brutal ripping up Steve’s heart but... he expected it was that trauma bonding things that Steve and Robin refused to ever talk about with Y/n in the room.

“Hey bestie.” Robin winked at Y/n and he felt himself relax. Around her he always felt more comfortable. She got him on a much deeper level than Steve did. She had actually been the one to set them up after failure after failure of Steve’s attempts on girls who came to the ice cream shop they met at originally. It had gone up in flames recently, but they’d snagged a job at a movie store so they still worked together. Y/n was pretty sure neither of them would have it any other way, even if they sometimes pretended to hate each other.

“Hey loser,” Y/n joked back. Robin shoved him and he laughed, accidentally ramming into Jonathan as his feet almost came out underneath him. “Sorry,” Y/n mumbled.

Robin scoffed in amusement. “I always forget you have two backward feet.” This was something she said often, in reference to the popular statement of ‘two left feet’. One day Robin had proclaimed that Y/n was something worse than two left feet, and then being backward had kicked off as an inside joke.

“I’d you have that problem standing still, how do you think you’re going to do on a hike?” It seemed Bianca was trying to get in on the joking, but it hit a hard cord with Y/n.

He wasn’t in the mood to joke. “What can I say? Great day to die.” He put on the fakest smile ever. “Come on everyone!” Then he began to surge ahead, onto the trail, and the others scrambled to catch up.

It didn’t tale long for Nancy and Bianca to hit the head of the trail. Steve dutifully stayed by Y/n, but he watched the girls head with a sort of forlorness. Because Y/n was so slow and Jonathan and Robin lagged even behind him, the two girls in front were racing up and down the steep sides of the path they were on, jumping over logs and hopping up on stumps to make the path harder. They were laughing hard and having a great time. Y/n knew that Steve desperately wanted to join them.

What kind of a boyfriend would Y/n be to stop him? “Go on,” Y/n sighed, nudging Steve forward encouragingly.

Steve looked at Y/n with an expression that tried far too hard at innocence to succeed. It was so obvious he was full of crap that Y/n was rolling his eyes before the brunette even spoke. “What? What do you mean? I’m having a great time with my boyfriend which was the point of this whole thing. Have I bored you already?”

“No, but I’ve bored you. Go and do parkour with the bad ass chicks up there. Go on.” Steve hesitated, but when Y/n shot him a look, he finally did speed ahead to catch up and join in the unnecessary shenanigans that gave Y/n extreme anxiety just imagining himself doing. He sighed watching Nancy and Steve. He knew that things were WAY over between them, but Y/n found a little jealousy in the way they worked together so fluidly. They were perfect for each other - even as friends. She just kept up with him and challenged him in a way that Y/n never could, and Steve thrived.

Slowing down in his moment of annoyance, Robin and Jonathan caught up to him. “Welcome to the world of those who have to sit back and wonder why they’re not still dating,” Jonathan sighed. His voice was as laced with bitterness as Y/n’s thoughts were.

“They’re so complimentary,” Y/n complained.

“You could argue that you guys are the same,” Robin pointed out. “You both hate doing anything outside or away from home. You both love reading and photography. I mean Y/n’s incredible view of the world allows him to be a great writer, but it also connects you two. Writing and photography aren’t far from each other and you prod that every day. Nancy can’t slow down enough to appreciate things like Jonathan does, and we all know Steve is no reader.” She chuckled. “And we’ll never know how awkward and snappy got buff and pretty.”

Jonathan and Y/n smiled at that. “Imagine another world where Nancy and Steve stayed together. Then maybe you and me would have-“ suddenly he lost his words as he tripped, and Jonathan reached out to catch him. The two boys busted up laughing. “That’s the second I have to say both sorry and thank you for your reflexes Mr. Byers.”

“Ah anytime. That’s what friends do. Share interests and talk about alternative world where they’re dating and catch each other when they almost die.”

That made Y/n laugh harder.

Suddenly there was a very unpleasant thump and a scream. The three in the back snapped their attention to the three ahead and saw Nancy and Bianca freeze and look back at Steve, who had landed on the ground. His hands had risen to cover his face, and he slowly turned on his side, curling in on himself. It seemed like he’d misstepped at some point and tripped and fallen.

Perhaps Y/n shouldn’t have been the one they worried about on this trip...

When they finally got Steve to the hospital, it was a mess. There had been blood everywhere, and Y/n’s weirdly good driving had saved the day in a pinch once again. They’d gotten there quickly and in one piece without getting pulled over.

Only an hour later they were given news. Steve came out with the skin around his nose already bruised and puffy. “Guess Who broke their nose,” he mocked in a song songey voice.

“Me?” Y/n joked.

“Me!” Steve agreed, pointing at himself. “It’s me. I broke my nose.” He slung an arm over Y/n’s shoulders and the other four covered their mouths to hide laughs. People wouldn’t be forgiving in public if it got out that the two men were dating, so they were trying to be lowkey.

The Doctor came over behind Steve. “He’ll be fine. I’ve given him direction son how to ice it and even given him some pain killers to help with the next few hours. But it is just a broken nose, so nothing too severe.”

“Thanks,” Y/n told the Doctor. They left then, everyone heading home. Y/n designated himself in charge of caring for Steve, and called his parents to let them know that Steve ‘got tired’ after the hike and totally knocked out. They didn’t mind, liking that Steve was actually spending time with other kids again, so it went without too much problem.

As Y/n was tucking Steve into bed, Steve caught his hand to still him. “I love you.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. They hadn’t said that yet but... well, if hypotheticals with Jonathan had taught anything today, it was that Y/n was glad he was in this version of things, even if it was a little more complicated this way. So he meant it when he replied, “I love you too Stevie.”

Steve glared. “Not Jonathan?”

“Jon-“ Y/n’s deep confusion cleared as he realized what had been happening right when Steve had tripped. Jonathan and Y/n had been close. Laughing. Talking. Touching. “Oh my god Harrington did you break your nose because you were being a jealous idiot?”

“Maybe,” Steve grumbled, looking away.

Y/n laughed, gently tugging on his chin so their eyes met again. “Please sweetheart, you can’t get rid of me that easily. Me and my two backward feet are going to plague you for the rest of our lives.”

Steve’s eyes got very soft. “Do you really mean that?”

Getting sincere, Y/n leaned down and kissed Steve’s forehead. “Stephen Harrington, I’ve never meant anything more. I know we can’t get married or anything, or even date publicly, but... I don’t care. And maybe that’s some really forward thinking and we haven’t been dating that long, but I fell... a LOT of times in my life. It only made sense that the first time someone ever caught me, it was you. And it made me realize that I was gifted with my two backward feet so that one day I’d fall for you.”

Steve groaned. “That was painfully cheesy.”

“Okay, okay,” Y/n dismissed, rolling his eyes. The sweet moment was completely ruined.

“No seriously I would break my nose again before hearing that-“

Y/n reached over, turning the light off before climbing into bed with Steve. “Shut up Harrington, or I WILL break your nose again.”

Steve laughed before pulling Y/n close so they could fall asleep curled up with each other. “My cheesy, dumb, clumsy boy,” Steve mused quietly.

That made Y/n scoff. “If either of ya is the dumb in this relationship it’s YOU, Harrington.”

“Shut up,” Steve whispered. It was quiet a while before he finally followed up with, “I’d like that future with you too.”

To hide his smile, Y/n mumbled, “Good night Stevie.”

After a second, Steve replied, “Good night, Y/n.” And for now, that was the end of it.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x male reader #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x male reader #joe keery #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #bisexual steve harrington #bi steve harrington

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benevolentbirdgal · 2 years ago

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13 Rules for Photographing Beings (Ruleshorror short story)

I can hear your objections now, dear reader - Beings, Entities, Others, Mostly Humans, whatever it is you wish to call them - they can't be photographed! It's not possible. We'd have photos if they could be photographed. Hell, some of them don't even show up in mirrors (particularly the sort of old-timey mirror backed with silver). So how on this blue earth can I intend you to advise how to take such pictures?

I do admit you'd need to go shopping for a camera that can capture them. And capture, erhm, isn't really the right word. Capture would imply you have control over the Being, in some material way - it's more that you can get cameras that create portraits with accuracy. Seek cameras with language like "portrait" and "likeness" over "memory" or "capture."

I'm not saying, that in theory, there isn't some ~magical~ version of digital photography that's able to capture the aforementioned liminal sorts, but I've yet to find it. And it's certainly not on your phone. You need something with film.

A polaroid is a shockingly good option for this sort of activity. There's something about the theoretical uniqueness that the worlds seem to agree with, when it comes to the portraiture of the peculiar.

Surprisingly, the majoring of Beings and Mostly-Humans can be photographed, given the right equipment and lighting - the question of if you should or if they're willing is an entirely different matter. If you're reading this, I likely cannot disillusion you of this endeavor, at least not wholesale for all Beings and Mostly Humans, but will urge you to consider the latter issue of their agreement. Manners are aggressively important to most of them, so I recommend quite strongly only to photograph that which has agreed, which admittedly, does narrow your options.

There are three narrow exceptions to the above: the first of which is if you are absolutely certain the entity specifically is not identifiable. No faces, tattoos, or aggressively identifiable (or identifiably aggressive) body parts. Think a group at a marketplace where everyone is hooded or otherwise hidden anyways, or perhaps the feet of a harpy without scarring that identifies that specific harpy.

The second exemption is for parts of them - a tooth, a claw, a scale, that is - and this is critically important - entirely disconnected from whoever or whatever it came from.

The third is for monsters, frankly, the sort you shouldn't be that close to anyways, but if you're seriously looking for advice on this, the ship containing your sense of self-preservation has obviously sailed. By monsters in this context, I mean that which operates on pure instinct, no calculations or sense of vengeance - that which could not conceivably be sentient.

All of the above, of course, applies to living Beings. If you manage to find one that's dead (and I mean really, truly, 100%, not coming back for Halloween, not in the stone and watching, but dead as a doornail diorama of a dinosaur dead), there are still risks. Much as a dead jellyfish's cells still sting, a dead Being's eyes or skin might have a nasty reverb on your camera. But the risks are lower.

You'd be shocked at all that you're able to photograph. If you cannot get them to show up on your camera, however, it is time to leave. Immediately. 7a. Some entities that cannot be photographed like to play with their food. You won't like their games. 7b. Some entities will agree to be photographed for a trade. You won't like their exchange rate.

Photo negatives often yield strange results for subjects that should be normal. Don't expect any less of the negatives of strange sorts.

Inconveniently, many sentient sorts of entities will only be photographed in circumstances of plausible deniability, where your photo could not conclusively form evidence of their existence.

Keep. Your. Flash. Off. At best you will enrage your subject(s). It is more likely you will not be able to unsee what the flash reveals. Annoyingly, many will appear, much less consent to be photographed, at night. Don't succumb to the desire to turn on the flash.

Lighting is very important here - liminal times and spaces like sunsets and sunrises, or where the ocean meets the sand, or where wilderness meets humanity.

#ruleshorror #rules horror #unreality #tw unreality #microhorror

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2-u-3 · 2 years ago

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『Iro ga oyoide, iki wo shita ／ The colors swam, and we took a breath』 Episode 3

Radio drama based on Eve's song, "Promise"

Cast: Shimazaki Nobunaga as Ishiki Silver & Saito Soma as Niiro Mashiro

Other episodes: 1 2 [3] 4

The colors swam, and we took a breath.

Waiter: “Here’s your beer!”

Akamine: “So what do you think, Gin? I really want you to be the one to take my wedding photos!”

Silver: “I already told you many times, I don’t do photography anymore.”

Akamine: “But why?”

Silver: “I can’t see colors.”

*gulp gulp*

Akamine: “Huuuh? But there’s lots of black and white photos! Can’t you take some with that vibe?”

Silver: “I can’t. I don’t own a camera anyway.”

Akamine: “Seriously? But you loved it so much…”

Silver: Well, I guess to put it precisely, it got burned.

Akamine: “Say, it’s because of what happened 7 years ago, isn’t it? The thing with Niiro…?”

Silver: “Who knows.”

*lighter clicking*

Akamine: “Smoking’s not allowed here.”

Silver: *sigh*

Akamine: “Well, I won’t force you. But please give it a thought! I seriously loved your photos! So I’d really want you to capture my once-in-a-lifetime memories!”

Silver: Sorry…

―――

Silver: It’s been a while since I’ve gone drinking during the day — and since I’ve seen Akamine as well. Perhaps that’s why, having gotten carried away and having one too many drinks, for some reason my unsteady legs carried me towards the ocean where Mashiro and I took photos together for the first time. And so, before I realized, I found myself onboard a ship. By the time I noticed I was feeling sick, it was already too late. So, having no choice, I looked for a plastic bag [inside my backpack]. And there it was — that broken camera. I see. Did I bring it with me to give it a burial?

Silver: “AaAaAAGH!!!”

*splash*

Silver: “….. Hahaha…”

Silver: I should smoke one for the occasion…

*ship horn* *burst*

???: ”You’ll fall!”

Silver: “Did… I just imagine that…?” *sigh*

Mashiro: “I finally found you.”

*shutter sound*

Silver: No… way…

Mashiro: “It’s been a while.”

Silver: But… you’re…

Mashiro: “I thought you’d be here.”

Silver: “Wh… y…”

Mashiro: “Because this is the place of your memories.”

SIlver: He looks like an adult, but… could this really be…

Mashiro: “I figured if there’s somewhere you’d be, it’d be here.”

SIlver: No, it can’t be…

Mashiro: “Aw, you threw the camera away… Even though we made a promise.”

Silver: “Pro… mise…”

Mashiro: “That we would look for colors together, that you would look for freedom.”

Silver: “R… right…”

Mashiro: “You haven’t gone to see the world?”

Silver: Please… Don’t look at me with those sincere eyes!

Mashiro: “Aren’t you a liar~ I didn’t take you for that sort of a guy.”

Silver: “... You hate me, don’t you?”

Mashiro: “Why?”

Silver: “Be… cause…”

Mashiro: “Let’s walk!”

Silver: “Walk where? We’re on a ship―”

*scenery changing*

Silver: “... A promenade? There’s… no one here?”

Mashiro: “How nostalgic~”

Silver: “This scenery…”

Mashiro: “I can’t hate you. I can’t. Ahaha.”

*running footsteps*

Silver: “Mashiro!”

*footsteps slow down*

Mashiro: “You finally called out to me.”

Silver: What’s with that expression…? On top of that, I’ve never seen you running―

Mashiro: “That’s right. We’re inside of a dream.”

Silver: “...!”

Mashiro: “As expected, you figured it out immediately. Huff!” *hop*

*hopping on gravel*

Silver: “We’re on railroad tracks… is this safe?”

Mashiro: “This is a dream so it’s safe. Well, formally, rather than a dream it’s more appropriate to say… we’re inside your heart, I guess?”

Silver: “Hu…h…”

Silver: Monochrome scenery as far as the eye can see. Even if this isn’t reality, I still can’t see colors, huh. I guess it makes sense since we’re inside my heart.

Mashiro: “I don’t hate you, Gin. You’ve always been someone I admired.”

Silver: Admired…? Me?

Mashiro: “I always knew about you. Ever since I was a kid, there was something troubling my father.”

Silver: Mashiro… you… are talking about something I don’t know… inside my heart?

Mashiro: “One day, I snuck a look into a pocket diary my father held dear. And inside of it was a photo he treasured — a photo of a boy. That’s right — it was you.

Silver: That can’t…

Mashiro: “I was really confused seeing a photo of someone who really looked like my father, to be honest. But after that I became more and more curious, and I soon learned the truth from a conversation between my parents.”

Silver: “You… remembered… me?”

Mashiro: “At first I was really troubled. I felt jealous of a brother I didn’t even know, and I was furious to death. But more than anything, I was so shocked that I got a bad fever.

Silver: Aah…

Mashiro: “The next day, I couldn’t see colors anymore. I was in despair. Why only me? How? I thought how everything in this world should just disappear.”

Silver: He’s… just like me.

Mashiro: “One day, my father took me on a tour boat in Tokyo. He told me he learned photography from the father of someone he once loved, and that’s when he taught me how to use a camera.”

Silver: Grandpa…

Mashiro: “And you see, that’s where I met an amazing boy. He held a big camera and just photographed the horizon straight ahead. So I got curious what he was taking a photo of and tried to stand on the same spot and take a photo the same way.”

Silver: …!

Mashiro: “He noticed me as I was doing it though~ But when our eyes met, it felt like the whole world suddenly gained color. Whether by instinct, I felt like I wanted to get to know him.

SIlver: Mashiro… you…

Mashiro: “But at the same time, when I saw his face, I knew. That boy was the one from the photo that I was so furious about. So I thought… We could never be friends.”

part 2 audio

Silver: You were always…

Mashiro: “What a cruel coincidence… To think we’d meet in such a place. Maybe, if we were born together as brothers with no real boundaries between us, maybe we could have been running around more places together. I was frustrated.”

SIlver: … always…

Mashiro: “Back when I transferred in middle school, I was surprised to see your name, and also terribly happy. I knew about you, but you didn’t know about me. I admired you, always surrounded by friends. I wanted to get closer to you, but on the other hand I also didn’t. I had mixed feelings.”

Silver: … more troubled than I thought…

Mashiro: “When I learned about you not having a dad, I thought I was probably someone to be hated. I was afraid that when you’d find out about me you’d get hurt, so I tried to avoid you at school.”

SIlver: And yet I…

Mashiro: “But then one day, you reached out to me about the program for the school festival. To be honest, it felt like a dream.”

Silver: … I hurt you, and now I’m seeing this convenient illusion…?

Mashiro: “When you invited me to look for colors together, I was really happy. Getting to know you was so much fun, I tried to forget about the unfortunate circumstances. That’s why I paid for my sins. I knew you’d get hurt once you’d find out about the truth, and yet…”

Silver: But… I find myself thinking — if this is a dream I never want to wake up. I want to stay like this, forever.

*rain droplets*

Mashiro: “I’m sorry, Gin. I always wanted to apologize.”

Silver: No! Stop! You’re not the one who should apologize! The one at fault… is me…!

*ba-dump ba-dump*

Mashiro: “Say, Gin… You don’t take photos anymore?”

Silver: “H… how could I… all by myself… carefreely… do the things I like…”

SIlver: After all, aren’t I the one who let you die? I pretended to be the lone main character of a tragedy and childishly kept blaming you.

Silver: “Hey, Mashiro… Please tell me the truth! Inside my memories, you’ve always been telling me to apologize! You’ve been saying how everything would be better if I were gone!”

Silver: Even I realize the Mashiro inside my memories and the one inside my heart are different. But…

Silver: “Please don’t apologize!! If you apologize, then I…”

*bursting sound mixed with bubbles and hissing*

Silver: What… is that…? A deep red… monster…?

Mashiro: “Gin…?”

Silver: At this rate, it will swallow me…

Mashiro: “Hey, Gin…”

Silver: “Mashiro. I’m sorry.”

*heavy splash*

Mashiro: “GIN!!!”

*bubbles*

Silver: Why is he so desperate? Haha. It’s just a dream though. Strange… Can you shed tears under water? If I stay like this I’ll [sink] forever… and ever…

Mashiro: “Don’t die! Don’t die!!!”

Silver: Head first…

Mashiro: “Gin!!!”

Silver: Mashiro? You fell in too? Why?

Mashiro: “Open your eyes!!”

Silver: …!

Mashiro: “Don’t run away, Gin! You said it yourself — that you’ll look for freedom! Yet you’re breaking that promise, and willingly giving in to death! Don’t give me that!

Silver: “There’s no way I can look for freedom! You died…”

Mashiro: “So…! So look for it for me too! Didn’t you say you’d look for colors with me? Gin. Don’t blame yourself anymore! When you laugh freely, when you take photos — that’s the you I love.

Silver: “...!”

Mashiro: “Please. This is my… last wish.”

Silver: He’s… reaching out to me―

*scenery changing*

Silver: Aaaah!!! The… the colors are―

Mashiro: “Look. It’s beautiful, isn’t it? This moment where everything gains color is what I was looking for while taking photos with you.”

Silver: “... Yeah…”

Mashiro: “Gin. Go see the world, for me too.”

Silver: “But I… [said] such cruel things to you…”

Mashiro: “I don’t mind.”

Silver: “Don’t lie!”

Mashiro: “Yeah. That was a lie. I actually really minded. Because I really wanted to meet you.”

Silver: “... Why?”

Mashiro: “I wanted you to forgive me. I wanted you to smile again.”

Silver: “No! I should be the one apologizing! I’m sorry… I’m sorry, Mashiro!”

Mashiro: “Then we’re even. Say, about that wish I mentioned…”

Silver: “No… no way! I already threw away my camera and I can no longer…”

Mashiro: “Then I’ll give you this.”

Silver: “Huh?”

Mashiro: “It used to be your camera, so this should do, right?”

Silver: “I don’t want this! I’ll be taking photos alone! If that’s the case, I’ll just stay here! That way we can once more―”

Mashiro: “That’s no good, Gin. You felt it too, didn’t you? How small this world is.”

Silver: “That’s―!!”

Mashiro: “The more you see the world, the more freedom this place will gain, and the more colors you’ll get to show me.”

Silver: Don’t go!!

Mashiro: “If you keep chasing your dreams, memories will flood this place in return.”

Silver: Please wait! Wait!!

Mashiro: “I want to see that.”

Silver: “Mashiro―”

Mashiro: “Hey, Gin. Show me more of the world unknown to me!”

Silver: That’s…

Mashiro: “And then, when you’ve made lots of memories…”

Silver: �� not fair…

Mashiro: “... let’s meet again inside a dream!”

Silver: I can only answer like this…

Silver: “Yeah… You got it”

Mashiro: *laughs* “It’s a promise.”

Silver: “... Thank you.”

#gaku no ne #iro ga oyoide iki wo shita #eve #promise #yakusoku #eve utaite #2u3 other translations #ガクのネ #色が泳いで、息をした #約束

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

Note

Not sure if you are taking request at all but if you do, do you mind writing something about Harry agreeing to be the birth photographer at the birth of his niece (tom and reader’s daughter) 🥺🤍

this was so interesting!! personally I am way too self conscious to have a photographer when I *eventually* have a kid aha, but I hope this is what u were looking for x x p.s. coming at my brand w the white hearts :)

tomholland x reader

summary: harry gets terrified by toms request about the birth of his child, but the reader smoothes it over

Having just had a round of golf with Harry, Tom invited him back to yours for a cuppa and a catch up too. After all the years of living and travelling with Harry by his side, Harry in particular was massively important to TOm. Especially since he’d moved in with you, Tom constantly made a super special effort to spend as much time with him as possible. Harry had a key and had no quam with letting himself in uninvited. Though since he had walked in at *the wrong time* a bit too frequently, and then the announcement of your pregnancy - he had cut down the unexpected visits.

“So, I actually wanted to ask you something.”

“This does not sound good” Harry furrowed his eyebrows together, looking suspiciously at his brother as he poured the kettle into the two matching ‘Brothers Trust’ mugs.

“Since when? I only ever ask you to do good things?”

“We both absolutely know that is not true.” Harry deadpanned, pointing to the palm of his right hand which carried a large scar. Scar in question had been sustained during one of Tom’s incredibly ‘good’ aka stupid ideas.

“Right fair… I’ll allow that.” He receeded, placing the two mugs onto the counter in front of Harry. All it took was one look at the pale brown colour for Harry to turn his nose up, shooting Tom a look as though he’d just murdered a puppy. The elder of the two sighed, knowing exactly what his brothers snobbiness was about.

“Seriously?”

“It’s not your fault your awful at this, some people just aren’t born with it.” With a sarky pat on the back Harry rounded the counter, pouring the freshly brewed but slightly too milky tea down the drain - before flicking the kettle on to make his own brew… properly this time.

Tom knew his brother well enough to know not to argue or protest, instead perching on the counter as he watched Harry work his ‘magic’.

“But seriously me and Y/n have been talking about the birth cos you know, it’s not too far away now.” This was true, you were now only 3 weeks from your due date - but going by the size of you, you were ready to pop. Quite literally, you didn't know how much longer you could last.

“I’d be concerned if you weren’t mate.”

“Well yeh and I basically um … had the idea to get a photographer for the birth right? It’s quite an American thing but I don’t want to forget anything and I’m sure it’s gonna be magical.” In response, Harry slowly turned around, empty mug in hand and eyes fierce.

“Are you fucking stupid?!”

To be fair to Harry, that had pretty much been your reaction when Tom first suggested it - word for word. He’d got the idea from one of the crew he’d filmed his most recent projects with, the guy had been raving about how beautiful it was and once he’d shown the pictures to Tom - he had to agree. Eventually Tom had worn you down to it and actually the idea of being able to save the moment you met your kid for the first time didn’t sound too bad. You had firmly set the boundaries of no photos of your ‘labour face’ and absolutely nothing from the ‘other end of the bed.’

The worry for both of you, as it always was given Tom’s reputation, was privacy. Especially the birth of your child, having a stranger there had you straight refusing, even a friend seemed still a little invasive. It was only when Tom had remembered he had a brother (who you were also incredibly close to) who was handy with a camera. Even if he had no experience with this particular type of photography, Harry was a pretty safe pair of hands for a camera in any situation. God knows he’s had enough practice at it.

“No hear me out, Y/n agreed too-“

“Of course this was your idea! So she’s totally fine with me staring at her fanny through a camera lens?”

“Harry” That was a warning tone, which the frizzy haired boy chose to completely ignore.

“No I-I mean, you want me to stare at your finances bits? Isn’t that some sort of weird incsest?”

“Shut the fuck up about Y/n’s body. You OBVIOUSLY wouldn’t be taking photos of that end, more like when the baby gets handed to us you know?”

“When its covered in gunk that came out of Y/n?”

“I’m pretty sure they clean it-“

“Not properly!”

Thankfully perhaps, the conversation was interrupted by the kettle clicking off, the water coming to a boil. With a huff Harry turned round, pouring and then stirring the tea as Tom watched his back from a distance. Neither spoke till after Harry finished, returning the milk to the fridge and then leaning against the counter top.

“Look I get it if you dont want to but your the only one Y/n trusts to do it and it means a lot to me.”

“Y/n wants me to stare at her fanny?!”

“No calm down you div. But you are the only one she trusts to be in the room when our first child is born. Will you just think about it?”

Harry opened his mouth to reply, probably protest, but before he could the front door opened and you called through the house.

“Tom? I’m home!” And becasue the boy was whipped he instantly trotted to the front door giving you a peck on your lips. He murmured to you that Harry was there, his lips moving against yours and you nodded with a small smile. You knew, instantly, that Tom in all his idiocy hadn’t handled it well.

“Would you mind getting all the shopping from car? Pregnant and all, so I’m not allowed to lift a finger.” You cocked your head, laughing as he rolled his eyes with a nod.

“I’m excited for when you can't play that card.”

“But then I’ll be the women who pushed a baby out for you… the mother of your child.” Winking, you then quickly moved through the house before he could protest, just knowing he was pulling a pouty face as he watched you sway away.

Once in the kitchen you saw Harry nursing his mug like it was the last drink on earth, hunched over it from where he was sitting on a stool on the breakfast bar.

“ You lose at golf?” Opening the conversation, Harry instantly shot his head up, looking slightly terrified to see you.

“Wha- no, no I didn’t actually.”

“Tom asked you huh?” He nodded, seemingly not wanting to commit with words. “I had exactly the same face when he first told me. It’s weird right?”

“Yeh no shit.”

“He’s really keen on it though, I mean he’s like an excited puppy about the whole birth.”

“But you want it too?”

“Sort of. What I do want is for him to be happy though. And I’m fairly certain he’s gonna be terrified throughout the whole birth while I won’t be in a position to help himl.”

“You’ll probably have other stuff on your mind to be fair.” You laughed, at that, nodding in agreement with him.

“Just a little. I did think though, who is a person who I can trust to look after him too during that... and even I draw a line at your dad… Look if you don't want to, I totally get it and I can’t promise that I won’t be screaming at you during if you do. But it would comfort me to know you were there, with or without the bloody camera.”

“Seriously?” Rather than exclaiming it, Harry whispered in shock, not expecting this sort of a revelation.

“Course H! You're my little brother too.”

“I might pass out.”

“So will your brother, at least he won’t be on his own then.”

“I’ll do it.”

“Thnakyouthankyouthankyou!” You squealed, running over to hug him from the back, arms round his shoulders as he squirmed on the stool.

It was at this point Tom walked back in after unloading the ridiculous amount of baby clothes shopping you had done. Big strong Tom had to take 2 trips up and down the stairs to the nursery. Of course, all it took was a few words from you and Harry was falling at your feat. He was hardly surprised. Annoyingly you seemed to have this power over all the Hollands. They never stood a chance.

It wasn’t till later than evening, long since Harry had left and the dishwasher had been put on after Tom had made a mess cooking you dinner. Only then did your phone ping with a text message from Sam.

Sam H

‘I dont know what you’ve done to Harry but I’m scared, he’s binge watching one born every minute.’

Immediately you cracked up, knowing that it was his nervous energy and need to ‘be prepared’. Tom, who was lying behind you on the sofa whilst his hands caressing your stomach, jerked his head up intrigued as the what the ‘ding’ was. You showed him and he snorted in laughter too, whilst nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“How did you bring him round by the way?”

“Oh you know, I’ve got all of you wrapped round my little finger when I want.”

“That you do… do you think I should be worried?”

“Nah your just all softies.” Laughing softly, you pulled his arms tighter around you, wiggling back into him a bit more.”

“You didn’t tell him about the godparent thing though?”

“Course not… we can give him a separate heart attack about that.”

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tomholland #tom holland angst #harry holland #tom holland x y/n #dad!tom #fluff #tom holland x famous!reader #tom holland blurb #tom holland one shot #tom holland oneshot

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lorei-writes · 3 years ago

Text

HC: Boyfriend

Premise: Suitors as Modern AU boyfriends. Request: @joyfulenthusiastwitch Character(s): Kenshin

This... This is honestly longer than I expected it to be.

Kenshin x Reader

Content Warnings: mention of mental illness, food mention

The two of you meeting was a complete accident... Or much rather, a series of miracles.

The first time you saw him, he was a construction worker. Dazzling, truly, and you could not comprehend what such a person was doing there... Yet he was busy, and so were you. You did not talk.

The second time? He was the cashier at a busy supermarket. Self-check out was unusually empty that day, and you chose it, happy that you’d be able to get home sooner. You only caught the glimpse of him, the line to his post being longer than to any other - and you wondered, for what bloody reason that could be.

The third? A waiter. He did not serve your table, though. Fourth? He was giving out flyers. Fifth? He walked an entire pack of dogs, they marched as if commanded to. Sixth? A tour guide.

Seven times the charms, apparently, as your seventh sighting of Kenshin was the one when you got to talk with him.

It was in a cafe, the man sitting alone at the table - or well, as alone as he could be in that moment, a person with a camera bending around him at all sorts of (weird) angles to get just the right shot... To no avail, it appeared, though, Kenshin appearing unusually bored with the entire ordeal.

You stared at them for a little bit too long, the photographer noticed you, somehow you could not say “no” to them (although perhaps there was not even a chance to say anything but “yes” in the first place), and mildly confused about the legality of this everything, you found yourself sitting opposite of Kenshin, the photographer demanding the two of you start talking. Immediately.

Awkward as it was, you did oblige to the request, Kenshin’s gaze softening a little. The shoot was over sooner than you anticipated, the photographer nearly disappearing into the thin air.

As to apologise for well, what you were put through, Kenshin offered to buy you a coffee and a piece of cake. You agreed. You ended up chatting some more - and then, as if by accident, met at the cafe again, and again, and again, each time being a new successful accident.

You were the one who suggested dating to him. It stunned you initially, as he... Didn’t give you an answer until a week later? He even appeared somewhat torn over the matter. It kinda shook your belief in the fact that you had some chemistry going on. Perhaps you were misinterpreting it all along? Even when he agreed, you couldn’t get it out of your mind.

As you’ve learnt later, once he felt safe enough to discuss the matter, he was simply afraid of how it would go. He briefed you on his history of mental illness and how he worried that the intrusive thoughts he had could get out of control.

You did not treat him in any way, as he insisted he would not burden you with that, but you could see that you and the relationship you had gave him a lot of motivation to fight hard.

You moved in together after several years. Your first apartment was very small, but also very cosy. You made sure to decorate some of it on the budget, with things you could make yourself.

That’s how the idea for your shared business first started. Apparently, you had a knack for managing social media - or so it appeared, given your Instagram statistics.

With his sense of esthetics and looks, your skills in management and photography, the two of you started a social media agency. Generally, you set up online stores for cafes, stores, small businesses, manage their instagram accounts, etc.

Despite not letting it on at first glance, Kenshin is a very sensitive and generous person. You could not count the times when you woke up, only to find the book you wanted to buy waiting on his side of the bed.

It also may happen sometimes that he’d come back home with a wild flower he found somewhere along his way, or perhaps a cup of your favourite coffee.

Eventually, you got a dog. Kenshin would always pout whenever the pet would get between the two of you. Well... You ended up having to sleep in the middle of the bed, Kenshin on one side and Ume on the other.

You might have photographed Kenshin multiple times, but your favourite shot is still from that one time when you came home late and found him sleeping on your side of the bed - you just couldn’t help yourself. (You might have even felt mildly guilty, had it not been for the fact that he agreed to such things, on the condition you show him the photo later).

You do not go out on dates much, at least not to the restaurants and such... But, if there is a chance, you pack up into your old car and drive with your dog somewhere outside the city, to just stroll through meadows and enjoy silence for a moment.

Ume wagged her tail in furious joy, fresh grasses and what not having already tangled themselves in her fur. The dog barked - once, twice, and then jumped up, her entire body trembling in excitement as she observed every movement of Kenshin’s arm. His muscles tightened and then relaxed, his grip over the stick having disappeared completely as the stick flew into the air, Ume already running after it. As if in reply, he shook his head, a faint laughter spilling out of his lips as he returned to his place by your side. “She’s never getting tired, is she?” he asked, knowing the answer all too well, the tip of the tail already getting closer to them. “Never,” you agreed absent-mindedly, your fingers working tirelessly to complete the project in your lap. “Ha! Done!” “Done?” “Done!” you exclaimed, placing the flower crown on top of his head. Kenshin blinked slowly - and then, his entire face lit up. It didn’t last long, however, Ume demanding him to entertain her stick-chasing needs yet once again.

Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @rikumorimachisgirl, @bestbryn, @kink-rabbithole @ikesenfangirl @mila-ikigai @cailann @fairstival If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, do remember to specify fandoms (and characters, if you are interested only in some) :D If it ever happens that you wish to be removed from my taglist, for any reason, do let me know. I will not ask why, it’s all fine ^^

#kenshin uesugi #ikesen kenshin #ikemen sengoku kenshin #ikesen #ikemen sengoku #ikemen series #my ff #my writing

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lockejhaven · 4 years ago

Photo

↪ 𝚋𝚕𝚘𝚐 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚍𝚞𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗

Yep, it’s that time! I’m (re)introducing myself, yet again!

»»—————————-　𓆩❤︎𓆪　—————————-««

So hi! I’m Locke! ➺ I’m a 21 y/o rising senior in college, majoring in psychology ➺ I’ve been writing for nearly eight years now, and after all that time, I actually have some idea of what I want to do with my work ➺ When I’m not writing, I draw, play video games, read, cross stitch, bullet journal, and dabble in photography during my free time ➺ Some of my favorite games are Minecraft, Stardew Valley, Coral Island, Guild Wars 2, Spiritfarer, and The Evil Within

❝ worlds are burning, my child. gods alone cannot suffocate the flames.

My Writing ➺ My work probably fits quite loosely under fantasy, but I often dip into all sorts of genres, including but not limited to poetry, steampunk, dystopian, science fiction, supernatural, and more ➺ I’m polyamorous. My characters are polyamorous. Relationship webs are complicated and I love them dearly. ➺ I have quite a few WIPs on the backburner due to my rather chaotic writing style, with only one being a finished first draft. I adore them all and I can’t yet bear to part with any of them, so you’ll probably see some ‘new’ wip snippet pop up occasionally ➺ Lore and worldbuilding makes up most of my word count and takes up most of my time; it’s the most consistent thing I do! ➺ That said, it’s also my current focus, so expect a lot more of it!

my works // world anvil // north haven discord // pinterest

WIP // Fable

➺ My tale is an old one. That much should be quite clear. It is not, however, as it has been told... For in a memory as old as mine, there is a truth worth seeking; a light worth following. Perhaps in the candor of my tale, others will find the necessary inspiration to continue on toward their own light.

Summary

A fairytale retelling in the form of a journal come to life. Written by Myhren, or ‘Merlin’ as they may be better known, Fable contains lifetimes of experiences and the truth behind the fairytales we all know and love.

Fable mainly focuses on the stories of King Arthur, Camelot, Merlin, and associated characters. It is written from Myhren’s point of view, with some discrepancies due to the nature of their immortal life and their experience within a time loop. Entries are not all seemingly in order. Instead, the writings follow Myhren’s stream of consciousness.

Status This is an ongoing, very long term WIP of mine. I’ve written some pieces, and brainstormed others. I’ll be releasing new entries as I complete them. Phase: It’s complicated.

wip page / cast page / character intro

WIP // The Minutemage Compendium

➺ The MinuteMage Compendium is a browser-based RPG concept presented in an old-school rpg field guide format. Explore the world of Iane and discover its secrets!

Summary

A clock is ticking in the mist and fog; people have begun to vanish right off the streets, and dark knowledge is kept from the common folk. Thrust into an unknown world, it is up to you to bring corruption to light and save the clockwork city of Iane. Can you find the Minutemage Coin and open the doors before it's too late?

Status Phase: Brainstorming. I’ll be designing items, NPCs, locations, creatures, enemies, and more. Eventually, I plan on making it into a physical guide and an RPG!

WIP // A Ghost, a Quill, and a Mockingbird

➺ Something in her remembers her past; a part of her that stands tall in the face of another's rage. Mountainous strength, hidden within a mouse. Confidence born of past instinct, of power, of creation and abandonment; Yet her conscious betrays none of it. Her spite does nothing to reveal what she had been so desperate to forget; what her rage continues to remember, impressively extreme for such tame, conscious memory.

Summary

Ghost has lived her entire life in an underground bunker on the planet Serus. The last of her kind after a swarm of vitians invaded her world and slaughtered her people, she spends her days in blissful spite where the vitians are unable to reach her. It's not in any way peaceful, of course, to hear the screaming from outside the bunker, but as long as she has her music and drink to keep her company, she figures she'll be able to live a nice, conflict free life. That is, until her simple day-to-day life becomes a bit more interesting; a little more chaotic. Her god has returned, and he's not at all what she expected, nor does he seem all that keen on leaving her alone.

Status I’m proud to say that GQM, while my eighth existing wip, is the first to have a completed first draft! Phase: Paused. While I take a step back and move onto other things before revising, adding, and rewriting!

wip page / wip intro

OTHER WIPS // The Back-burner

➺ A list of WIPs I love very much and that have been set aside

It is worth noting that I tend to write a lot of standalone vignettes that don’t pertain to specific stories, as well as a lot of poetry that I like to call my ‘spout of bullshit’

Arcane // world anvil // tag Alchemist // floating idea // tag The Demon’s Eyes // world anvil // tag Encounters of the Primal Sort // world anvil // tag Faefinder // brainstorming phase // tag Twisted Tales of Myth ➺ Ellyse of Wonderspire // world anvil // tag ➺ Servant to Dragon and King // floating idea // tag Wane of the Lunar Human // floating idea // tag

vignettes // poetry // playlists // moodboards // characters

#writeblr #lockejhaven #lgbtq #lgbt writers #writer #writeblr introduction #autistic #ljh #my adhd #neurodivergent #keys

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early2000smovieimagines · 4 years ago

Text

Meeting and Dating Regina George

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

- You technically don’t meet Regina, but she first talks to you one day after school while you’re walking to the bus stop.

- You see, you’re a part of the school yearbook; a photographer to be specific, and took photography class so you were fiddling with your camera while you were walking. You being a part of the yearbook was also initially the reason that she talked to you since Regina doesn’t give the time of day to people like you unless she wants something.

- So there you were, walking across the school yard when Regina fucking George called out to you.

- Now everybody knows who Regina is; which is why I said you didn’t technically meet, and Regina knows that they do, but she’s learned how to play people so she introduces herself. You shyly greet her back, wondering what she’s doing talking to you before she says “oh wow” and begins to ask about your camera.

- You don’t know enough about Regina at this point to realize that she’s playing you like a fiddle so you timidly talk to her for a while before your photography class comes up into conversation. She asks what you do in it and you mention the project you’ve just been assigned: having to pick one or a few subjects and photograph them for about half the year.

- She asks if you’ve chosen someone yet, you mention that you’ll probably choose one of your friends and she says an “oh” which has you hanging on to her next words.

“Well,” she says somewhat pointedly, “I was just thinking, I mean, you’ll have the rest of your life to photograph your friends, and I’m sure you do it all the time. So maybe you should pick a new subject?”

“If you wanted,” she says after you seem to be considering her words. “We’d be more than happy to help you out. You can come hang out with us and build up your portfolio.”

- You ask if she’s sure and she sweetly reassures you, writing down her number and telling you to think about it.

- Well bless your gay little heart, of course you say yes! You’re practically mesmerized by her! It’s just too bad that she only sees you as her own personal photographer ...at least at first.

- So you begin to hang out with the plastics, shocking everyone in your school whenever they actually give you the time of day. Though, of course, they have to give you a makeover and teach you the rules first.

- Everywhere you go, you bring your camera and snap some photos of them, oftentimes at their request. When you’re at school events working on the yearbook, Regina will call your name and you’ll obediently take some pictures of her/them wherever they are. Blinded by your growing crush on the mean girl, you don’t realize what’s happening, especially since she really seems to think of you as a friend.

- I mean, why would she tell guys with newfound interest in you to leave you alone or force you to hang out with her instead of your loser friends/boyfriend or call you up and tell you to sneak out and hang out with her.

- Truth be told, Regina George had taken an actually liking to you and perhaps it had started purely because of the attention you were getting from guys. Regina liked having what other couldnt and now that you were desired; and for other reasons, she wanted you.

- Things come to a head when Gretchen accidentally let slip exactly why Regina had made you their friend after the blonde upset her. The confession had come as a shock but at the same time, you felt dirty, like you’d known all along that it was too good to be true and this was just proving to you that it was.

- You were hurt, you were upset, you were ...angry. How dare she use you like that? Pretend to be your friend for some goddamn photos!

- You didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of blowing up on her, of letting her drop you from the group herself after you “overstepped your boundaries”, so, you ignored her. You didn’t answer her calls, avoided her at school, blatantly ignored her when she called after you. You gave her the silent treatment and it gave you a sick sense of victory.

- Regina hates being ignored and not having control of everything so you; someone she’s grown to have feelings for, just up and ignoring her like she was some common geek really pissed her off. God, you should have seen her after Gretchen admitted she’d told you; the blonde could have killed her.

- So now that the blonde knew what was wrong, she started working towards fixing the mess the “brunette bitch” had made. You obviously weren’t returning her calls nor letting her come near you at school, so she had to surprise you somewhere, somewhere you couldn’t get rid of her. The schools darkroom.

- No one was around there after school, well, no one besides you so when the blonde entered and shut the door behind her, tapping on your shoulder as music blared in your headphones, you nearly had a heart attack.

- Out of sheer shock and anger, you began to yell at her, hurling a few “what the hell is wrong with yous” and insults and explaining that you don’t want to see her. She remains blank faced before she tells you to shut up, successfully shocking you into silence.

- She told you that yes, initially she’d only talked to you for the photos but even then, she saw potential in you, she saw something she liked in you. She thought her interest in you was just some sort of jealousy thing but then she figured out that it was something more. When guys asked you out; well when they tried to, she felt the same way she felt when Aaron Samuels ignored her for some other girl.

- And then she asked if you would go out with her, well, she sort of demanded that you’d go out with her and for better or for worse, you said you would.

- For your first date, the two of you go to the mall together. You spend a few hours shopping around, getting coffees and talking like normal humans. It’s no surprise that you have a good time but you are surprised by how natural it feels to be with her.

- The two of you share your first kiss a few days later, after you’d gone to some party that she’d insisted you attend with her. Some guy had hit on you, causing her to subsequently pretend that she was tired of the place and wanted to go home. Once you were back in her car, she’d pulled you into a rough, obviously jealous kiss, leaving you grinning while she began to drive away.

- And thus, the queen of the plastics became your queen.

- Regina isn’t a huge fan of Pda unless she knows that someone in the vicinity has a crush on you. If there’s someone’s day she can ruin by doing it, then she’s all over you.

- You’ll usually keep your arm around her shoulder or have her arm around you.

- Blowing kisses.

- Just watch the lip gloss when she’s going to be in public, alright?

- Aggressive kisses and makeouts.

- She actually likes cuddling; particularly spooning, especially when she’s feeling upset. She’ll either hold you or let you hold her for hours, usually while watching television.

- You have your very own pair of fuzzy slippers for whenever you stay over at her house.

- Sunbathing on her balcony.

- Phonecalls before bed.

- Affectionate name calling and insults.

- Playful hitting and wrestling.

- Borrowing each other’s stuff: clothes, makeup, perfume, etc. She’ll occasionally buy you things just so she can steal them from you later.

- Small gifts.

- A surprising amount of compliments. You don’t expect Regina George to boost your self esteem up as much as she does but what can she say, she just loves everything about you.

- She likes hearing you rant, she finds it really amusing when you act all bitchy.

- Writing in the burn book, or at least being somewhat pressured into trying it; not purposefully. She just thinks that it’s cathartic so why wouldn’t you?

- Making fun of people together. She’s more mean spirited than you are but hey, you’re both being bitches, right?

- Expect her to make a few commands. She’s just used to having followers and puppy dogs for partners, don’t take it personally.

- Getting her to be nicer to her friends.

- Learning the rules of popularity.

- Getting matching jewelry.

- I’m sorry but you’re now her dress up doll and there’s no stopping it. She’ll do your makeup, buy your clothes, style your hair, whatever her little heart desires; and you’ll just have to let her.

- She actually sort of secretly likes punk/alternative music but you’re one of the few people that’s allowed to know. You bought her an Avril Lavigne cd this one time and she not so jokingly said that she’d go down on you for being so sweet.

- You’re dragged around a lot. You sort of just do whatever she wants, especially if you’re just hanging out rather than going on an actual date.

- Surrender the keys slut. Regina insists on driving no matter whose car you’re taking.

- Going shopping. She needs your advice before she can buy things.

- Holding her stuff for her. I’m sorry but your girlfriend acts like a princess.

- Getting coffees.

- Lunch dates.

- Going to parties together.

- Junk food binges.

- Having tons of photographs together. She has a good bunch of the more platonic looking ones; at least until she comes out, displayed around her room.

- Going to her sports games.

- Letting her rant to you before she has an aneurysm. You’ve certainly helped calm her down from some of her really bad tantrums.

- Hanging out with her little sister. Surprisingly enough, Regina actually really likes her and acts super cute when they’re together.

- She’s got a huge house and an aggressively supportive mom so if your parents are shitty, you’re always welcome to stay with them.

- Telling her how beautiful she is and trying to stop her from focusing on every little somewhat nonexistent flaw of hers.

- Reginas a very jealous girl. She hates seeing you with other people, particularly ones who she thinks are interested in you. She’ll ask what you’re doing talking to them and blatantly scare them away when she’s had enough.

- She’s definitely possessive of you; that’s just how she is.

- Don’t mess with mama bear. She’s sorta overprotective of you and gets offended in your honor. God forbid someone upsets you, or just accidentally bumps into you in the hallway, their life will be destroyed in a matter of minutes.

- The two of you probably fight a lot, sometimes merely bickering, other times having full on screaming matches. She’ll usually either act passive aggressive and pretend to not be bothered or be completely blunt and rude.

- You’ll usually give her the silent treatment and she’ll do the same to you, though she’ll snoop and secretly drive around to see what you’re doing without her. When she’s sick of not seeing you, she’ll give a reluctant apology and somehow always make you forgive her.

- Regina isn’t shy when it comes to saying she loves you, mainly because she usually says it playfully. Though, with that being said, she does always mean it when she says it.

- Perhaps the bus incident happens, perhaps it doesn’t. Nonetheless, the two of you are planning on sticking by each other’s sides; at least for a while.

#2000s movie headcanon #2000s movie headcanons #2000s movie imagine #early 2000s movie headcanon #mean girls headcanon #mean girls imagines #mean girls headcanons #mean girls imagine #Regina George imagines #Regina George headcanons #Regina George headcanon #Regina George imagine

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