#No I really don't which is why I was asking

[chrissv4mp]

⌗ STRIP FORTNITE

warnings. smut, oral, munch!dani, slight degradation, praise kink, bratty!reader, overstimulation, 7thmember!au, mami kink, vulgar language, fluff near the end.

synopsis. your girlfriend, daniela, is always playing fortnite. one night, you teasingly suggest adding a twist to her normal gameplay.

words. 4.6k

letters. okay, first and foremost, this isn't my original idea!!! i was scrolling on my dashboard a week or so ago and came across a sturniolo fic (dk if it was matt or chris?) that had this prompt/idea, and grabbed inspiration from that !! i don't know the original writer off the top of my head—as i saw the fic a little while ago—so please inform me if you know <3

you'd always been aware of daniela's love for fortnite—and a little resentful of it.

it wasn't that you hated the video game in general. no, your minimal feelings of hatred toward the game are rooted in daniela not spending as much time with you at night. which, if you were being honest, would sound like a silly reason to hate the game if you were to say it out loud.

but you hardly ever saw her crawl into bed beside you every night—sleep always pulling you under in less than thirty minutes into watching her play at her desk, the low light of her monitor almost comforting now that you'd fallen asleep with it so many nights in a row.

albeit, it didn't make much sense. daniela always whined about how tired she was on the ride back from rehearsal, muttering under her breath about how she'd immediately crash the second she stepped into your shared dorm.

and as much as you wished that were true, it never happened.

you're not mad at her. rather, you're a little annoyed. annoyed because she never really made the effort to ask if you were alright, or if you wanted to play with her—not that you ever really wanted to because you were so exhausted, but the effort still would've counted!

it all just gets a little boring at times.

like now. you're lying under the covers, narrowed eyes flitting across the tiny sliver of the monitor that isn't blocked by daniela's curls. her headset is snug on her head, mic pressed close to her lips. she mutters curses every now and then, yells at the screen at unexpected moments and wakes you just as you're about to nod off.

so, after the umpteenth scream that passes by her lips and out into the room, you make the reluctant decision to just sit and watch the girl play.

it's almost midnight when you get bored, eyelids heavy with restlessness and something else. you sigh softly, hoping to catch your girlfriend's attention. when she doesn't even flinch, you push the covers off of your body, crawling toward the edge of the bed and hopping off the mattress.

fuzzy socks drag silently along the hardwood floors of the room as you make your way to daniela's desk, arms wrapping around her shoulders the moment you can reach. your nose nuzzles into the crook of her neck, inhaling tiredly.

the latina takes one hand off of her controller, fingers coming up to push one of her headphone's off of her ear.

“thought you went to sleep,” she murmurs, voice almost a whisper.

you laugh. quiet. “can't.”

she hums, eyes flicking back to the screen, grasping the controller with both hands again. “mmh, why's that?”

“...really?” you mumble, pulling away from her neck to really look at her.

your eyes drag over her side profile, jawline sharp and soft in the most perfect way, lips plump and faintly glossy, soft stray curls falling over her cheeks and framing her face. her eyes are illuminated by the light from her monitor, the hazel color of her irises highlighted.

she glances at you for a split second, cocking a brow in slight confusion.

“you've been screaming the whole night,” you grumble, tapping her shoulder. “m'surprised the others haven't already broken down our door with complaints.”

daniela just smiles. “they're used to it by now.”

you roll your eyes, resting your chin on her clothed shoulder, a t-shirt—that's one-hundred percent from your side of the closet—hanging loosely on her frame. her eyes stay glued to the screen, fingers moving carefully on the controller as she kills a player, celebrating with a quiet hiss.

“you gonna stay clingin’ to my shoulder the rest of the night or what?” she teases, teeth catching her lower lip moments later.

you don't answer, pupils flicking all around her face. the smooth expanse of her neck. clear. unmarked. your tongue pokes at the inside of your cheek. conflicted. aroused. nowhere near tired anymore. you don't think she'd end the game if you pressed a few kisses to her neck. she'd be too focused to even notice.

still, you try anyway. lips soft on her skin.

she jolts. subtle. barely there.

“what are you doin’ now?” daniela purrs, trying to bite back a smile. she fails.

you're silent again, watching her like a predator examines it's prey. waiting for the perfect moment to pull her under your spell.

her fingers stutter on the joysticks, pulse pounding louder in her ears now. “...cariño.”

you pull away, and the ticklish sensation leaves almost as quick as it came, relieving daniela for a moment. a moment that's spent far too long in silence to be called normal. innocent. because you have something under your sleeve. an idea.

something that would make the video game exciting for both of you.

“y'know,” you murmur, trailing a finger up the soft skin of her arm lazily. “you could make this more fun.”

she doesn't look back—just lets out a short hum, already breaking. “what, you gonna hop on and run duos with me?” she teases, though her voice shakes. slightly. noticeably.

you snort. “hm, not quite.”

“...spit it out then, babe,” she whispers.

a beat of silence passes by.

then two.

on the third, your lips brush the shell of her ear, breath warm on her flushed skin. she shivers under the sensation, eyes drifting off screen for a second before she sets her focus back on the game.

“strip fortnite,” you breathe.

that gets her attention quickly. she freezes, hands limp around the controller that's now resting in her lap, headset slightly askew. then she glances over her shoulder, lips curling up into a grin. throat bobbing when she swallows a little too hard. “oh?”

her gaze flicks down to your lips, then back up to your eyes, already blown with lust. “and what are the rules?”

“you get a kill, i take something off. but, if you die…” you pause, letting the tension ring out in the air. “you lose something.”

daniela blinks, eyebrows raised, eyes slightly widened—then she gives you the cockiest smirk you've ever seen, her nerves from earlier erased. “you sure you wanna play this with me?” she murmurs, adjusting her headset to rest around her neck. “you're gonna be naked before i even hit top thirty.”

you roll your eyes with a scoff, stepping backward. the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, forcing you to sit. “try me, dani.”

she loads up a new match before even finishing the last one—as much as it hurts her to lose the eight kills she already had—and quickly lands at seaport city, already aggressive and competitive as hell. she's not playing it safe tonight.

not when this is on the line.

less than three minutes into the first game, she catches someone by surprise—gets a headset from behind and nearly jumps up from her chair, head snapping around toward you.

“c'mon,” she exclaimed, voice strained in an effort to contain her excitement.

you grin, hands trailing low. the latina's eyes follow your every move—but when your fingers pinch at the edge of your sock, she sighs in disappointment, the sound loud and exaggerated.

“you didn't specify what you wanted me to take off, angel,” you tease, tossing the small piece of fabric to the side.

she shakes her head, turning back to the monitor. “you wouldn't have listened anyway."

a small giggle sounds from your throat, and daniela just grips her controller tighter, jaw set, eyes locked on the screen, determined.

her second kill doesn't follow as quick as you think. it takes a few minutes into the round of daniela wandering around the map and organizing her layout, scanning the map, and searching for other players. then, the second you take your eyes off the screen, muffled shots reach your ears.

“two down,” she announces, glancing over her shoulder. “hoodie. take it off.”

you smile, stretching slowly. deliberate. letting the hoodie slide up and over your head, revealing just a tank top underneath, nipples creating a visible print in the thin fabric.

the latina lets her eyes roam—just for a second—and then forces herself to face forward once again.

third kill—she snipes someone from inside of a bush, smirk widening. another down. and now she's getting cocky. “shorts now, hermosa.”

but you? you tug down your last sock instead, giggling the whole time.

her brows furrow. “what the hell?”

you pout, feigning innocence. “what? it's a piece of clothing. i don't have to take off my shorts just because you tell me.”

she narrows her eyes. “you literally said—” then, with a defeated sigh, she spins back around. “you're gonna be the death of me.”

there's less than fifty people in the game now, and daniela's kills are much lower than they usually are—but that's just because the stakes are so high right now, and you can practically feel the nerves radiating off of her.

her nervousness quickly serves to betray her as she walks straight into an ambush. some kid with a juice wrld skin guns her down with an smg before she can even build.

“fuck me.”

you laugh. “off.”

she just huffs, sets her controller down on the desk. “what do you want?”

biting your lip, you hum. “your shirt.”

you don't miss the flicker of hesitation in her eyes—along with the swirl of lust—before she's moving, tugging the loose fabric over her head, jaw clenched. tosses it to the floor. she's topless now, her bare back pressing against the cool leather of her desk chair, all tensed and flushed and pissed in the hottest way possible.

she's not wearing a bra, which grants you the view of her chest. soft. bare. so empty without your marks to decorate her skin.

“not so cocky now, are you?” you tease.

daniela just shakes her head and spins back to face the desk with a huffed laugh.

the next game loads, and she's even more feral than the last. lands at the same spot. doesn't even wait to get a decent gun before she's off, searching for kills desperately.

she shoots at the first player she sees, kills them, and doesn't even say anything—just nods over at you with a shit-eating grin. you roll your eyes playfully and slowly slip off your tank top, eyes locked on daniela the whole time. your own chest is bare now. exposed to your girlfriend's hungry eyes. she doesn't even hide the way her gaze drags down your body.

the latina lands one more kill in that round, leaving you to take off your last piece of clothing.

your panties.

she watches in the reflection of her second monitor as you slide your thumb beneath the waistband of the lace. real slow. the fabric peels down your thighs, thin strings of your arousal catching the light of daniela's monitor, and then you shimmy them off with a very unnecessary arch of your back, hair cascading over your bare shoulder.

and you hear it.

the small, broken little sound she makes.

her controller drops into her lap.

you smirk. soft. too sweet to be considered innocent—because nothing about any of this is anywhere near that territory anymore.

“you're staring, avanzini,” you whisper.

she doesn't respond at first—just exhales, heavy, shallow, already wrecked. then she swallows. hard.

“game's over.”

you hum, cocking a brow. “really?”

she bites her lip, holding back a growl.

“you're naked,” she comments, voice low. dangerous. “you lost, and i won.”

silence overcomes the room.

then—

“so come get your trophy,” you purr.

and she does.

immediately.

she tosses the controller to the side, jumps out of her chair so fast she nearly trips over her own feet—and suddenly she's pinning you to the mattress, mouth crashing onto yours, hot and desperate and overflowing with need. her hands find your waist, your hips, sliding down to your thighs like she needs to touch everywhere at once to convince herself you're real.

“fuck,” she whispers against your lips, flipping your positions and pulling you into her lap. “you knew what you were doing when you suggested this stupid game.”

you giggle under your breath, arms wrapped around her bare shoulders, hips rolling slowly into her lap just to tease. “well, you're the one who never pays attention to me at night… needed to get it somehow.”

she bites your lip before you can say anything else—not hard, just enough to make you gasp—then kisses down your neck, breath shaky, lips hot. she sucks bruises into your neck like she's claiming you, hands sliding around and grabbing the backs of your thighs as she pulls you impossibly closer. chest to chest. skin on skin. nothing else between you now.

“you could've told me,” she growls, voice rougher as she bites at your collarbone. “but you just wanted to nag me, didn't you? thought it was cute?”

you nod without thinking, clit brushing perfectly against the fabric of her sweatpants, eyes wide and fake-innocent. “mhm.”

she flips you again—fast. your back hits the sheets, and she hovers over you, cheeks flushed and heart on fire. her curls are messy now, falling over her shoulders, lips red, and her eyes are hungry. “yeah?” she breathes, warmth fanning along your lips. “then you'll take your punishment like a good girl, hm?”

and oh—you will.

the latina doesn't even give you time to breathe, doesn't give herself time to overthink. because in a split second, her mouth is everywhere—your neck, your chest, your stomach—hand gripping your hips, nails digging into your skin harsh enough to bruise. she drags her lips down your body like she's trying to memorize every inch, leaving faint prints from her lip gloss. her tongue traces along the inside of your thigh, kissing slowly just to wreck you.

“you look so pretty, mi amor,” she purrs, voice soft, almost sweet now. “all warm n’ so ready for me.”

you whimper brokenly, hips jerking upward the second she blows onto your dripping cunt. a low, eager giggle spills from between her lips, and it only serves to make you even more desperate.

“baby,” you whine, breathless.

she doesn't tease for much longer. she couldn't even if she tried. she's too worked up. you feel her sink between your thighs, one arm hooking beneath your knee, the other still holding your hips in place. the first stroke of her tongue is hot and deep and needy.

you moan—loud. back arching. hands fisting the sheets harshly.

and she just groans in satisfaction, hips grinding mindlessly into the mattress like she needs the friction, like just the mere taste of you already has her falling apart.

her tongue delves between your folds hungrily, the tip of the muscle prodding at your leaking entrance and causing a string of strained moans to escape from the back of your throat. your hands find her hair quickly, tugging at the soft curls as your back arches further off the bed. every moan from you only makes her more feral, until she's got both arms wrapped around your thighs and she's devouring you.

“dani—” you gasp, head thrown back, body trembling uncontrollably.

“mmh?” she hums against you—the vibrations going straight to your pussy—then sucks gently, stimulating your clit teasingly until your legs are clenching around her head.

“you're—oh my god, you're so—”

you don't finish the sentence. you're unable to with the way daniela sucks so eagerly at your puffy bundle of nerves, the feeling both overwhelming and underwhelming at the same time—because she wants to keep you teetering on the edge of euphoria until you physically can't take it anymore.

she teases your clit for a while—until she sees the way your hips start bucking harder and she realizes you want more. you need more. and she lives to please. so, she flattens her tongue right on your cunt and shakes her head back and forth gently, eyes rolling back at the taste of your sweet arousal.

“so sweet,” she murmurs, the words muffled as she continues with her ministrations, tongue sliding deep into your entrance unexpectedly.

your grip on her hair only tightens when her tongue enters you, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you cry out.

“fuckfuckfuck,” you whimper, breath shallow and unsteady. “mami—dani, fuck, i'm close—”

she doesn't hear—or, that's what it seems like, because she doesn't stop. doesn't even slow down. and part of you believes that she did hear you, she was just too determined to pull you over the edge of ecstasy.

her eyes flutter open, landing on the blissed out expression on your face—brows furrowed, eyes shut, lips parted. she smiles in satisfaction, pressing kitten-licks to your clit slower than before, the sensation a clear contrast to how roughly she was taking you just a few moments ago.

“danii—!” you whine out, choking on a particularly loud moan, hips rolling in needy motions into her tongue. hazel eyes drag over your shaking figure, filled with lust and admiration and things she couldn't describe even if she tried, mind too fogged up with the taste of you.

your thighs flex around daniela's head, cunt clenching uselessly, practically begging for her to dip her tongue in again. and she does just that, answering your prayers with a slow, languid flick of her tongue, sliding deep between your gummy walls. when her nose bumps against your clit in time with the way she thrusts her tongue, you squeak out a moan that's in a higher pitch than any of the prior noises—one that's definitely heard from the other rooms in the house.

“already gettin’ so loud,” she slurs into the mess of your arousal, staring up at you through her lashes. “you wanted my attention that bad?”

“mhmm—so bad,” you babble, eyelids reluctantly fluttering open to meet her intimidating gaze. your own eyes are glossed over in pleasure, while daniela's are full of desire.

a chuckle sounds from her throat, the vibrations from the muffled noise spilling directly into your twitching pussy. your knuckles bleed white with how tight you grasp the bedsheets, the small of your back aching lightly with how deep you're arching. daniela lets her eyes fall shut again, lapping at the wetness that leaks from your entrance, focusing on your pleasure and your pleasure alone.

you don't notice when one of her hands slip away from your thigh, moving lower and landing right beside your core. with a sly smirk, she slowly runs the tip of her index and middle fingers through your folds, collecting the build-up of your sweetness. a groan erupts from the back of her throat at the slick feeling of your lips, fingers almost flicking away with how slippery your cunt is.

then, with careful precision, she slips the two of her digits deep into your cunt, the action slow and deep, replacing the warm muscle of her tongue. the tips of her fingers reach deep, brushing against spots that she knows make you crazy.

“o-oh, fuck—you're s-so—!” you moan, the words nearly incoherent with how whiny your tone of voice is. daniela coos softly into your pussy, voice inaudible as she sucks on your clit.

your chest rises and falls in an uneven pattern, a thin sheen of sweat forming all along the expanse of your bare body, the room getting warmer with each second that the latina's between your thighs. she curls her fingers, gentle fingertips brushing the soft, spongy spot that has you screaming.

“mami, m'gonna cum—please, p-ple—” you're cut off by your own moans, the sound breathy and needy, only pushing daniela deeper into the mission of making you fall apart. her fingers thrust deeper, harder. her tongue flattens over your clit and presses gentle kisses to the bud every other second.

“s'that right?” she purrs, nails digging deeper into the plush skin of your thigh, holding you open for her. you nod desperately, head pressing deeper into the pillows as you try to hold it, remembering only one thing:

don't cum without permission.

daniela wasn't exactly strict on the rule, it was just something she had said once in the heat of the moment. but still, it stuck with you—and you always wanted to please her, always wanted to be her good girl. tonight, however, you weren't sure if you'd be able to abide by that “rule.” you were too far gone, basking in the intense feeling of her tongue and fingers on your most sensitive parts.

but just as you're about to let go, she says it.

“cum for me,” she grants, and you do. hard.

stars flash behind your eyelids the second you let go, your entire body stilling with the intensity of your orgasm. it hits you like a truck, wrecking your entire body. your lips part wider in a silent cry, legs twitching around daniela's head as you cum, pussy fluttering around her lengthy fingers. her pace doesn't stop, and neither does the harsh sucks on your clit. not even when you come down from the immense pleasure.

the sensation in your core soon becomes overwhelming—and you think, for just a moment, that she's still going because she wants to clean you. but when she doesn't stop, your breaths start coming in short, sharp gasps. your hands come down to weakly push at her head, trying—and failing—to stop her from continuing.

“wait—baby, nonono!” you whine loudly, legs clamping tight around her head. you try to squirm away, but she just pulls you back in, tongue burying deep into your entrance alongside her fingers.

tears prick in your eyes. “too ‘uch, mami,” you cry, voice broken and hoarse with how loud you'd been tonight. she still doesn't listen, just lightly caresses the side of your thigh with her thumb.

“jus’ one more,” she says eventually, pulling her head up slightly from between your legs. and that's when you take the chance to look at her—really look at her. you notice the wetness spreading along her lips, a mixture of her spit and your cum dribbling slowly down her chin. drops of the liquid collect on her chest and parts of her cheeks, illuminated lightly by the monitor that's still on in the corner of the room.

she grins. dazed. “you're so pretty like this. all spread out—such a good girl,” she praises with a particularly harsh thrust of her fingers, the squelching sound obscene as it echoes in your ears and rings out in the room.

you're almost embarrassed now.

almost surprised, even, at how none of the girls—especially manon or sophia—haven't already come knocking at the door. but you know all too well what tomorrow will bring. probably a long lecture from sophia followed up by complaints from the other girls about how they'd gotten no sleep. but it wasn't entirely your fault, it was daniela's for paying more attention to a dumb video game instead of her very real, very loving, very horny girlfriend.

still, you let daniela eat you out like a starved woman—tongue lapping in sloppy licks into your twitching cunt, fingers getting even messier with uncontrolled thrusts. you don't really care, all you do care about right now is being daniela's good girl and cumming when she says so.

“you're close,” she observes through a moan, eyes fixed on the way your walls clench wildly around her digits. “come on, mi vida, let go.”

you're unable to provide her with an answer—a choked moan taking the place of your words instead, your entire body trembling with how much harder your second orgasm hits you. this time, daniela slows her motions, fingers pumping in a little deeper than before, dragging out your orgasm as long as she could. her tongue collects everything she can, moaning gently into your core at the taste.

“lo hiciste muy bien, cariño,” she coos, lips trailing soft kisses up the expanse of your stomach, dragging up your body until she reaches your own lips. she presses a deeper kiss on to your mouth, full of love and care.

a hum is all you can reply with, eyes fluttering shut, arms wrapping sleepily around her body and pulling her closer, bare skin flush against bare skin. you exhale deeply, spent, and daniela just smirks.

“y'know soph is gonna be on our ass tomorrow morning,” you mumble.

she shrugs. “can't be that bad.”

──────

“...avanzini llorente,”

“wha—hey, what i'd do this time?”

your eyelids flutter open slowly, the stern tone of sophia's voice floating through the hallway and spilling into your and daniela's bedroom through the crack left in the door.

a sigh. “you cannot do that again. like—ever.”

you blink, still bleary, push the sheets away from your body and look over at the window, curtains still drawn. even through the blackout fabric, you can tell that the sun's just started to rise, and as you look to your side, nobody's there. the sheets are warm beneath you, but as you reach over, the empty side is cold. faint echoes of voices continue in the halls.

shuffling off the bed, you snag daniela's shirt from the back of her desk chair, pull it over your head, and pad down the hall.

“it wasn't just loud,” sophia scolds, her tone firm and clipped. “it was obnoxiously loud. like i was in a movie theater. i had dialogue.”

daniela groans. “okay, but—”

“no,” sophia cuts her off. firm. final. then she continues, “lara literally texted me ‘are they filming a reboot of X in there.’”

“that i did,” lara says, deadpan.

you round the corner into the kitchen not long after, hair a mess, legs still weak, trying to blink the sleep out of your system.

daniela's standing there in her sweatpants and a tank top, looking like a kid who just got caught stealing from the cookie jar. the moment her eyes land on you, she perks up, a soft smile playing on her lips.

“hey,” she says softly, almost hopefully. “you're awake.”

sophia doesn't even turn around. “don't say hi to her. you need to focus.”

the latina frowns. “hey, wait—what about her? she was the one moaning like a—”

the filipina slams her mug down. “yeah, and remind me again who was the one that created that problem in the first place?”

and then, if it couldn't get any worse, megan comes in from down the hall, hair tousled, hoodie thrown on lazily, expression tired and mad at the same time. “i'm not even fully awake yet and i know far too much about your sex lives,” she grumbles, though there's a ghost of a teasing smirk on her lips.

she brushes past daniela to get a mug from the cabinet. “we have rehearsal today—you do know that, right?”

right on cue, manon follows—wrapped up in a blanket like she was too comfortable to leave bed without it.

“you two are way too freaked out to be living in a house full of people.”

meanwhile, you're still leaning against the wall, trying not to laugh as your eyes dart between the five girls. when you see the look on your girlfriend's face, you almost break.

her jaw is on the floor. offended. “okay, okay—pause. why am i the only one being attacked right now?!”

lara yawns. “because you sounded like you were in one of those wattpad fanfictions.”

megan chimes in, “and you were the one calling y/n ‘mi amor’ every five seconds.”

“you said ‘good girl’ three times. three,” manon adds, punctuating her words with pointing out three fingers.

you choke on a laugh.

and that's when daniela turns to you, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed, betrayed. “are you seriously laughing right now?” she scoffs.

“i mean… you did say all those things.”

“i hate all of you.”

letters. AYYYYY first katseye fic !!!! do we fw this 🙂‍↕️🙂‍↕️

tags. @bilssturns @sacredgene @kianthegirlkisser @sseradiary1ry @smokenblk @dragoneyelashart

[concretechrysalis]

This is so fucking true.

I'm a feminine cis woman. I've also been buzzing my hair *short* for approaching a decade. The world has *not* rewarded me for it.

I get asked what my husband thinks (read: does he still find me acceptably attractive), or if I "got his permission" before I did it. Because the hair growing out of my scalp is apparently some sort of natural resource that he's been tasked with regulating? And why are they so concerned about whether my husband finds me fuckable?

I get asked "what happened?" and "why do you cut your hair like that?" Which are code for "what kind of cancer do you have? Or did you snap and pull a Brittany?" That way they know whether they're going into the rest of the conversation ready to be either apologetic and pitying, or dismiss me as unreasonable or "crazy." Since those are the only possible two motivations for my hairstyle, according to a depressingly large number of people.

I'll get weirdly underhanded compliments sometimes like "you're still really pretty" or "I wouldn't have thought that would work, but it looks good on you" from new people after they've gotten to know me (and decided they don't hate me).

It's a rare thing, but I have gotten a handful of really, genuinely heartfelt compliments from other women (literally, it's never been a man) who genuinely think that my hair pretty and are complimenting me just like they'd compliment any other woman with hair they thought was pretty. Those warm my heart up because those are always so genuine and sweet.

In a similar vein, there have been a handful of women who have told me, conspiratorially, that they wish they could "get away with" doing the same thing with their hair. Their boyfriend wouldn't like it, or they're worried their head will be weirdly shaped or that they were going to look like a man, or their job wouldn't like it.

The topic of my hair comes up probably 25% of my face-to-face conversations with strangers in any context (work, while I'm grocery shopping, at restaurants, etc). Maybe that sounds kinda low to you, but that can be one or more times A DAY. And based on super scientific statistics from people I'm friendly enough with to talk about personal life stuff, it seems like another 50% of people want to ask me these questions but don't because it's impolite.

That's a massive amount of interactions where someone else is thinking about my hair, which is funny because one of my favorite things about my buzz cut is that it doesn't require me to spend a lot of time and energy maintaining. And yet, somehow there's a never-ending supply of people who want to spend more time thinking and talking about my hair than I do.

Society is so normal about gender.

"women get praised for masculinity!" women cant even have leg hair because its perceived as masculine (despite the fact all genders grow leg hair) so i genuinely dont know where this rancid ass take came from. have you met a woman. have you ever asked a woman about their experience with society in regards to presenting in perceived masculine ways. i dont think you have.

[bbgsaja]

ҍąҍվ ʂąʝą ʝմղìօɾ (βąҍվ Ϛąʝą × Ƒ!Ƕմղէҽɾ!འҽąժҽɾ) քէ ϩ

summary - you're overdue, cranky, and have to deal with an assassin who then induces your labour. but all that fades away when you finally see your baby warnings - none a/n - i tried to post this yesterday but i passed out from exhaustion and i have no idea why because i took a nap earlier in the day just to be able to post this. also sorry to everyone who thought you were finally getting a break...my brain is at fault, once again it said 'what if...' and this happened part one • part two •

"That's right, still no baby."

You walked out of the elevator and into the living room, throwing your bag down aggressively. Running your hand through your hair, looking irritated and impatient.

Rumi offered you a sympathetic look while Zoey made a comfortable space for you on the couch. You walked over and lowered yourself into that space, just relieved to be off your feet. Baby followed and sat beside you, gently rubbing your belly.

"OW!" You suddenly yelped, then glared at your stomach.

"What was that?" Mira asked, everyone looking at Baby.

"The baby is kicking a lot," he explained, "And because she's half-demon, her kicks are, well..."

"It's a girl?" Rumi's voice came out quiet.

Baby's eyes widened, "Did we not tell you guys? Oh, my bad."

"A girl?!" Zoey squealed and jumped up excitedly. "You're having a girl?"

"That's if she decides to come out," you grumbled.

You threw your arm over your eyes, laying back tiredly as everyone else gushed about the news. You caught onto a few things, one of those being Zoey and Rumi wanting to go shopping for cute little dresses now that they knew the gender. And another being Mira wanting to train her as soon as she could stand.

You groaned.

They kept that promise the very next day, dragging you out to every store that sold baby clothes.

"Oooh, how's this?"

"What about this?"

"This is so cute!"

"She'd look so adorable in this!"

You wished you had the energy to match their enthusiasm, but all the walking was exhausting. So all you could do was offer smiles, thumbs-up and eager nods. You trusted their taste, and you trusted Romance's as well - he'd excitedly tagged along when he heard the words 'clothes' and 'shopping'.

"That is really cute," you took the teal dress that Zoey was holding up, smiling because the colour matched Baby's hair exactly. The little skirt was also too cute to just brush over. "Yeah, definitely this one."

Rumi had somehow found a romper with the words 'I love the Saja Boys' on it, which you found a bit funny and immediately agreed to get.

You ended up with several bags full of baby clothes, mostly because of Rumi and Zoey who really had gone a little bit crazy. And this was on top of the gender-neutral clothes they'd gotten before they knew the baby was going to be a girl.

As you were walking home, though, you felt like you were being watched. You stopped walking, scanning the crowd, feeling unsettled. You'd been through this twice before, and you weren't eager to go through it again.

"Something wrong, (Name)?" Mira asked, stopping beside you when she noticed you had stopped walking.

"I don't know..." You looked at almost every face in the crowd, "I feel like I'm being..."

Then you saw it.

A hooded figure, standing in the midst of passers-by. Looking directly at you - or at least you thought they were.

"Do you see that?" You asked Mira.

She looked in your direction, her eyes narrowing when she spotted the figure. Gently grabbing your arm, she turned to the pink-haired demon that was behind you, looking tense.

"Romance."

"I got it,' he nodded, keeping his eyes on your apparent stalker. He put himself between you and the girls and the stranger.

Mira tried to lead you away quickly, Rumi and Zoey falling into step with you both when they also noticed what was going on. Zoey even called Mystery, telling him to get Baby now.

Baby appeared next to you, his hand coming to rest protectively on your bump as he glared at the figure that was causing so much stress.

"Stay here," he told you, going with Romance to confront them.

Just as the two demons reached the figure, it glitched and disappeared. Proving to have been a hologram all this time. Mira, Rumi, you and Zoey were instantly on alert, the three girls forming a protective triangle around you.

The figure reappeared a few feet away, closer this time. But again, when Baby and Romance teleported to it, it glitched and went out.

And then you felt the air shift.

You spun around and punched the person behind you, earning a pained grunt as they stumbled backwards. Their hand came up to grasp their nose, and then they glared up at you.

"If you want to choose a pattern to trick people," you practically snarled, "Don't choose three. That's just predictable."

"You're smart," they chuckled, voice distorted so you couldn't even figure out if they were a man or woman. Not that it mattered, because trying to attack you was their biggest mistake.

Before they could try again, Mira was holding her weapon against their throat, "Step away from the pregnant woman."

Baby kind of defeated the purpose of Mira's threat, though.

He appeared in front of you and grabbed the newcomer by their neck then, with a swift twist of his hand, snapped their neck. He dropped the corpse without a care, then turned to check if you were okay.

But then something buzzed in the stranger's jacket, and he froze. Turned around slowly, as Romance bent down to pick it up.

It was a phone, which was ringing. Romance answered.

"I knew Baby was gonna do that," a guy chuckled on the other end. "Such brutality. But don't worry, I have plenty more toys to play with. Someone has paid a high price for the death of that devil spawn growing in (Name)'s stomach, and I always deliver."

The call cut.

Baby tugged back the hoodie to reveal an eerily humanlike robot.

Your water chose that moment to break.

"Mira," you gasped, grabbing her arm. Your entire body went rigid as liquid pooled around your feet.

Baby's head whipped around so fast that if he were human he would have gotten whiplash. He was up and at your side in milliseconds, hand on the small of your back.

"Baby," you choked out.

"I'm here," he reassured you.

"No, not you Baby!" You cried. "The baby is coming!"

His eyes went wide, "Oh...OH!"

He quickly lifted you up into his arms and disappeared with you, reappearing at the hospital and hurrying inside to the front desk.

The poor demon witnessed the real strength of a hunter that day.

During the birth you almost broke his arm, twice, almost took away his ability to give you another child after this, and gave him a nosebleed. Both of you knew it wasn't going to be an easy birth, but Baby did not expect to be so gruesomely assaulted in the process.

At the end of it, though, it was worth it.

Once you heard the crying, your heavy breathing and panting slowed. Your head stopped spinning, your vision cleared, and your heart raced.

You saw a tuft of teal hair and melted.

"Nine months of being in your mother's stomach," Baby was saying to your newborn, carefully cradling her in his arms, "And you still come out looking like me."

You choked out a laugh, "You have strong genes."

Baby looked up at you, his eyes glassy, "She's a mini-me. Demon form and human. She better have your personality or I'm demanding a refund."

You laughed even more and smiled as he brought her over to you, "I think it's adorable. A mini Baby Saja? She's perfect."

And when you laid eyes on her, you knew you meant it.

Soft, (skin colour) skin that turned purple every few seconds and glowing purple patterns adorning her face, neck and tiny, tiny hands. Teal hair crowning her little head.

"She's so small," Baby murmured, "So soft."

As the two of you marveled at the bundle of love and joy you'd made, the others tumbled into the room chaotically. And by tumbled, they fell in one on top of the other. Just the boys, though, the girls had opened the door and now looked mildly annoyed.

Which changed as soon as they saw your daughter.

They abandoned helping the guys up - which left Abby to fall back on top of the others - and rushed to your side. Shoving your husband out of the way in the way in the process.

"Oh my god, she's so cute!" Zoey gushed.

"That is one adorable baby," Mira cooed, her smile gentle.

Rumi's bottom lip trembled as she looked at the little girl in your arms, her eyes shining with emotion.

You smiled softly, "Wanna hold her?"

The purple-haired hunter nodded, gently taking your baby from you, looking down at her with much more love than you thought she was going to.

"Hi, sweetheart," she cooed, brushing her fingers over the baby's tiny cheek.

"Have you named her yet?" Mira asked, as she and Zoey went to stand on either side of Rumi. All of them admiring and swooning over your sweet little child.

"We were thinking of 'Aera'," you smiled at Baby, then at your friends, "Because it means 'love'. And she's a symbol of love, not just between me and Baby, but like you, Rumi, she's a symbol of love between a human and a demon."

"It's perfect," Rumi actually started crying.

The boys finally gathered around your bed, each one having a turn to hold Aera. Baby watched each and every one of them like a hawk, hovering nearby like he was ready to snatch her out of their hands.

Abby also cried.

Romance sobbed.

Jinu looked like he'd never seen a baby before. Then smiled like he'd just seen the purest, sweetest thing in the world.

And Mystery...he exhaled loudly, then muttered something softly.

You looked at Baby.

"Something like a blessing," your husband explained, nodding along to Mystery's words.

"Something like?!"

tag list - @queensnowlake-wof @just-a-blue-nerd @heartsforjiyuu @katsukiisshawty @luluprincess230lp @kimyeosinah-reum @1-800reki @arieslucy @justanotherreader658 @ch3rryjampi3 @yuriekochou @angestrawberries @m35kbl @yoongles2025

[lauren-likes-to-type]

So I hope this is not too much but can I make a request of Rumi x Female Reader where the reader and Rumi is in relationship for 2 years and suddenly she found out she's pregnant with Rumi's baby and she doesn't know how since... Well they're both girls which is impossible. So she is scared to tell Rumi because Rumi might think she cheated on her which is not. So when she ask for Mira and Zoey's help and they were literally in shock, but believe the reader doesn't cheat since they all know each other before they're famous, and were like "HOW!?" so when the reader explain the situation they agreed to help her to find out how. So for past week three of them always leaving together to search for answer while coming up with excuses to Rumi. At first Rumi ignores it until she become suspicious and try to ask but they always coming with excuses. So having enough to always left in the dark she decided to confront them and this is how.

Reader and Mira is chilling in the living room, searching on tips on what pregnant woman eat or do and don't something like that, when Rumi confront them what's going on. At first they deny all Rumi's suspicious by coming up excuses when Zoey suddenly barge in with a thick book and shouting on she knows how the reader get pregnant by Rumi's baby. Rumi is shock and look at the reader like "You're pregnant?" And then Reader explain that she didn't cheat on her while crying but unexpected for her Rumi comfort her and believe her. And that's how Zoey explain how (Where it something to do with Rumi's demon blood). And after all that chaos in the end Rumi is happy she's going to be a parent.

I hope you make this request💜💜💜💜

[KPOP Demon Hunters] Rumi x Female Reader - "Unexplained Biology"

[Requested by: anonymous] [Dividers by: grungenglam]

Summary: No one is entirely sure how this happened, but Mira and Zoey make it their mission to help you figure it out, even after you beg them not to tell Rumi.

Word Count: 5.08k Content + Warnings: Reader is pregnant, mentions of cheating, crying, cravings, keeping a pregnancy hidden, allusions to fingering, Rumi gets insecure towards the end, a scene of pure fluff at the end to make up for it all

[A/N]: I kept the biology and the conception process relatively vague since I couldn't come up with a description that could come across as credible, even just for the story. Also, I generally don't really enjoy writing pregnancy-based fics, but something about this one was so fun to write for, so thank you for the request!

Enjoy!

There was more than just fear coursing through your veins as you stared down at those two lines. Beyond the terror on how your girlfriend would react, you also couldn't help but wonder how this even happened.

You'd never been with anyone else, especially not while you were in such a serious, committed relationship with Rumi. She was everything to you. She treated you so well — better than anyone ever had before — there was no way you would risk betraying or hurting her in the slightest.

That's why the fear only grew stronger as you continued to stare at the positive pregnancy test pinched between your trembling fingers. How would she even react to this kind of news? Would she be happy? Worried? Or would she be just as confused as you were?

You sat there for a good half hour, simply trying to steady your breath and think rationally on what to do. No breathing exercise you could think of, however, seemed to help. Your nerves felt like they were somehow numb and on fire at the same time, your head spinning and your heart hammering against your ribs. It was an awful feeling not knowing how Rumi would even react to it.

Without realizing it, one of your hands dropped down to your belly, fingers digging into your shirt just above it in an attempt to fully ground yourself into the reality of the situation.

It worked a little too well.

Tears sprung free from the corners of your eyes, trickling slowly before they grew in mass, drenching your skin within seconds.

You were pregnant?

You were pregnant.

How the hell were you pregnant?

You and Rumi were both women. Beyond what's normal for two women in a relationship, there hadn't been any penetration. How the hell did you manage to conceive anything at all?

You shook your head, sucking in a sharp breath and holding it taut in your chest. You continued to hold it, even as it began to burn.

Surely the test was wrong.

You weren't pregnant.

There was no way.

I'll just take another, you told yourself, standing from your spot on the bed and snatching your keys from the nightstand. I'll take another test, and it'll come back negative. Rumi and the others wouldn't be back from rehearsals for another few hours anyway. It's not like she would notice if you were gone for a while.

With a slight tremor in your step, you made your way out of the penthouse and headed out towards a nearby shop, ignoring the curious, prying glances that met you as you wandered to the aisle with the item you were looking for.

You supposed you should've just ordered it online, but you weren't sure your body could withstand the anxiety of waiting for it to arrive. A few eyes on you wouldn't be the end of the world. Women went there all the time to get the exact same test. There was no shame in it, after all, especially for you. You were just double checking the result.

The moment you plucked the small box from the shelf, you felt your body bristle, thoughts flooding your mind on every possibility of how it could play out.

What if the first test was right?

What if this one also came back positive, and you really were pregnant?

How would you tell Rumi?

What would you even tell her to begin with?

Would she still accept you?

Still love you?

You pictured the scene unwillingly, a grimace painting your lips as it played out in your head. Showing her the pregnancy tests and confirming what they said. You imagined her face contorting with some kind of emotion you rarely saw directed towards you: anger, disgust, confusion, betrayal.

Would she assume the worst — assume that you had cheated on her and gotten pregnant by someone she knew nothing about?

God, you couldn't bear the thought of that. The tears that would fall, the sobs that would escape — even just imagining it was all too much.

You sighed, shaking your head curtly and tucking the box against your chest.

That would just have to be a reality you'd have to face for the worst case scenario. You couldn't focus on the negative right then and there. You just needed to make sure before jumping to conclusions.

After paying for it, as well as a couple of extra items you snatched from the shelves as a way to try to conceal it better, you made your way back to the penthouse, only stopping when you were finally back in the bathroom.

You did what you needed to do, then sat yourself on the closed toilet lid, eyeing the door as you waited for the time to pass for the results. It felt like hours had passed by the time your alarm went off. The sound of it ringing throughout the room jolted you back to your senses, and you had to stop yourself from falling onto the floor.

Shakily, you turned to the test and took it between your fingers. Just like you had done before, you closed your eyes and took a breath, readying yourself for whatever the outcome might be.

You twisted the stick to face you, then opened your eyes.

All over again, your heart dropped.

Two lines.

They weren't faint either. They were clear as day.

There was no denying that there had been a mistake. You could head out and grab another test to triple check, but you already recognized that there was no need for it. With how bold the lines were, it had to be true.

A stuttered breath erupted past your lips before it was followed by a broken, choked sob. You sat back down, this time on the floor, and curled into yourself, one hand clutching your stomach while the other moved to grasp at your hair, the test settled tightly between your fingers. "Oh, god," you murmured. "What is Rumi going to think?" Another wave of cries echoed through the bathroom.

You were silently thankful you were alone for the time being.

Every nerve bubbled back to life beneath your skin as your ears caught the sound of the penthouse door opening and closing, footsteps strolling in with casual conversation trailing alongside them.

They were back.

Rumi was back.

You recognized her voice immediately, even without understanding anything she said. Just like she did every time she came back, she wandered into your shared bedroom, expecting to see you there on the bed. She called out your name softly when she didn't see you. Shortly after, a shadow made itself known just in front of the bathroom door, boots halting only an inch from it.

She called your name out again, lightly knocking against the door.

What do you do?

Should you just tell her right out?

No, you couldn't do that. She would think you were unfaithful to her. You had to figure out how the whole thing even happened, otherwise your attempts to explain the biology behind it would just sound like an excuse.

You had to keep it hidden until you knew what to say.

Pulling yourself together as quickly as possible, you stood, brushing yourself off and quietly tucking both of the tests away under the sink for the time being. You'd toss them out later. One quick glance in the mirror to make sure there weren't any visible tears or streaks, then you unlocked the door, twisted the knob and tugging it open to find Rumi standing there with a bit of concern etched into her features.

"Hey," she whispered, tilting her head. "You okay?"

You gave her a nod, smiling widely and pulling her into a hug. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just have a bit of an upset stomach. Nothing serious."

There was only so much time before you were found out, especially by Mira. She noticed everything. It didn't matter how small it seemed.

You managed to keep it under wraps for a few weeks. You were about halfway through your first trimester when Mira and Zoey sat you down for a talk. Rumi, oblivious to the entire situation, had stepped out for a bit, assuming "the talk" they were going to have with you was nothing serious.

As the three of you sat on the sofa in the den, you kept your gaze down. You doubted that Zoey knew, but with how attentive Mira was with the way people acted — more specifically those she was closest to — you were just waiting for her to expose you.

Internally, you were grateful Rumi wouldn't be there to hear it yet.

"What's going on with you?" Mira asked, unwilling to dance around the situation and instead opting for a more blunt, straightforward approach. Still, even with the directness of the question, there was nothing but concern in her tone. You took a breath. She wasn't there to judge you — neither of them were. They were just curious and worried.

You continued to stare down, watching with apparent fascination as your fingers toyed with one another. It wouldn't be as easy to lie about your sudden change in behaviors over the past few weeks as it was with Rumi. They weren't blinded with love around you. They could both see right through you.

"Promise you won't tell Rumi?" You responded when you found the strength to speak again. From your peripheral, you watched as they eyed each other. "Well, I mean," Zoey started, only to be cut off by Mira. "It depends on what you're about to say. We aren't going to keep something from her unless we have to."

You nodded. "I know, I know, I just," you paused, trying to collect your thoughts. "I'm going to tell her, too, I just need a bit of time to figure out how to break the news to her."

"What news?"

You peeked up at Zoey as she blurted out the question.

With a sigh, you stood. You were thankful, surprisingly, that you hadn't managed to toss those pregnancy tests out yet. You'd taken an additional three of them a few weeks after the first two to be absolutely sure, which meant there was plenty of proof.

You excused yourself briefly and slipped into the bathroom.

When you returned, you caught the way Mira's brows immediately furrowed, her eyes locked on what you carried. Without a word, you held two of the tests out for both of them to take. They stared — only stared — for what felt like forever at them. Shakily, though, Zoey managed to speak, her voice laced with disbelief.

"These are… yours?"

You nodded.

Her eyes dropped back down to the two lines still evident on the screen.

"How?" Mira asked, though her tone was unreadable.

The burning returned to your eyes, a feeling that left you trembling. Zoey stood, gently taking hold of your hand and pulling you to sit between her and Mira on the sofa. The moment you sat down, you hunched over, burying your face in your hands as a cry broke free from deep in your chest.

"I don't know."

It wasn't long before you felt Zoey's hand rubbing soothing circles against your back. Shortly after that, Mira's hand joined, though it moved to rest on your shoulder, squeezing softly to regain your attention and ground you into the present. "Did you-"

"No," you blurted, refusing to even hear the accusation. "I didn't cheat. That's why I'm so confused about all of this."

"Is that why you don't want us to tell Rumi?"

You could only nod. Your throat already felt raw and sore from crying. Speaking would be too painful until you could calm down again.

"Are you worried she'd think you did cheat?"

Another nod.

Zoey hummed. "I doubt she'd really believe that," she started. "I mean, Mira and I haven't known you as long, but even we don't believe that. We've seen how you are with her. There's no way that's how this happened."

Surprised, you lifted your head and glanced up at her, figuring she wouldn't buy a word of it. You turned your head to face Mira, who simply nodded with a small smile, one that you mirrored.

"Do you know how it might've happened, though?" She asked. You shook your head, watching as she and Zoey shared another glance. "Maybe it has something to do with Rumi's demon half?" She suggested.

"Oh, yeah," Mira mumbled, eyes darting down as she thought a few things over for a moment. "I didn't even think about that. Do you think there are any books or articles we could find to figure it out for sure?"

"I'm sure we can find something. It's worth a shot either way."

"What's worth a shot either way?"

The three of you jumped at the sudden voice, all turning to the doorway to find Rumi standing there, a small grin toying at her lips until she noticed the redness around your eyes. Walking closer — rather quickly — allowed her to see the tear streaks, too.

"Woah, hey, what's going on?"

She dropped the small bag of snacks she had brought in with her to the side, both hands willingly abandoning it in favor of cradling your face between them. You froze, unsure of how to excuse yourself without giving it all away. Thankfully, Zoey and Mira spoke up for you, somehow making up a believable lie that explained why you'd been crying.

You had to suppress a sigh of relief when you realized Rumi had bought it. She settled in next to you on the cushions once Zoey moved over a bit, and she struck up another effortless conversation, thankfully moving away from the subject.

When she got up later on to get ready for bed, you stood, ready to follow her. Before making it to the doorway, you turned back to glance at Mira and Zoey.

"We've got you," Zoey spoke, just soft enough for you to hear.

Smiling ear to ear for the first time in weeks, you thanked the two of them, then turned and headed off to bed.

Another few weeks went by in a blur. You were nearly at the end of your second trimester. Mira and Zoey had helped you pick out an entirely new wardrobe filled with clothes that would hide the growing bump in your belly. When Rumi questioned the sudden change, you told her you just wanted to experiment with comfier, baggier clothes for a bit.

Trusting you weren't hiding anything, she accepted the explanation without hesitation, even offering to give you a few of her own oversized hoodies and sweaters.

When you started getting cravings, Rumi took notice, and she questioned you about the wild combinations you'd ask her to get in the middle of the night. She'd still grab them or prepare them for you without arguing, but even in the darkness that filled the room when she came back, you could see the clear repulsion in her face as she handed it to you.

You'd tell her you just found some crazy new diet you wanted to try, assuring her it wouldn't mix in with her own meals, which put her more at ease.

Each symptom you showed of pregnancy would be brushed off to the side with some kind of excuse. You felt awful taking advantage of Rumi's trust in you, but you were more terrified of how she would react once she found out the truth. All you needed to do was understand how it happened, then you could talk it out with her.

The entirety of the pregnancy so far, Mira and Zoey had been your lifelines. While Mira was helping you research different things about pregnancy so she'd be able to make it more bearable, Zoey was sifting through every book and article she could find about the biology of demons. She'd even considered going to Celine at one point to find some answers, but decided against it, worried she'd only end up shaming Rumi for something she wasn't even aware of.

There hadn't been much to go off of, considering anything relating to demons was destroyed or censored. Still, neither of them gave up on trying to help you make sense of the situation you found yourself in.

You found yourself growing more and more grateful for the two of them every single day, especially as Rumi's suspicion started to resurface. You had to go to appointments, and in the beginning, Mira and Zoey had timed each one perfectly for when Rumi would be out of the house. Whenever she'd ask them where the three of you were, you'd all say the same thing: "we went shopping," "we just went out for a walk," "we just needed a bit of fresh air."

Rumi, again, bought it in the beginning, but as your appointments continued behind her back, she found the urge to confront you about it all reappearing.

Another appointment came and went, and Rumi, none the wiser about what was truly going on, went about her usual business around the house. You and Mira were settled in the living room, staring intently at the screen of her laptop. Rumi had stepped through and caught a glance of it, but still meandered into the kitchen to grab something to eat.

When she came back and found the two of you still staring at the screen, she noticed the frantic glances you sent her way, combined with the way your body shifted in an attempt to shield the words on the screen. She could hear the two of your murmuring something to one another, but it was too quiet to hear.

You were clearly hiding something from her.

It seemed like you were being more open and honest with Mira about whatever you were whispering about compared to anything you'd told her for the past several months.

Now feeling a spark of fury, she walked over, trying to peer over your shoulder at the laptop. Quickly, both you and Mira lifted your arms to cover it again, an action that resulted in an annoyed groan from Rumi. "Seriously? Why can't I see what you two are looking at? What are you hiding from me?"

Panicking, you looked over at Mira, who shared the same expression. "It's nothing important, Rumi," she replied, earning a raised brow. "Really? If it's 'nothing important,' then let me see." You shook your head. It was hard to ignore the hurt look that crossed over her face. "We can't."

"Why not?"

"We just can't, Rumi."

"Why not?"

You sighed, dropping your head and eyeing where your stomach was beneath another one of the baggy hoodies you'd been wearing recently. Now wasn't the right time to tell her. You still had no idea how it was all possible. What were you meant to tell her?

Your silence only fueled the anger in her. She tried to bite it back, but it was hard when it felt like you trusted Mira and Zoey more than her: your girlfriend, the girl you've known far longer, the girl who had devoted so much of her life to you.

Why couldn't you just tell her?

"What could possibly be so important, yet not important enough for me to know?"

You lifted your head and shared a look with Mira, silently looking for some kind of guidance. She could only offer a shrug. It was your call, after all.

With a small grunt, you leaned back a bit and sighed, a hand draped over your stomach as you braced yourself for the difficult conversation you were about to cause.

Just as you parted your lips to explain yourself, as well as your actions over the past five and a half months, a loud bang echoed throughout the penthouse, prompting the three of you to turn to the source of the noise. Zoey, fueled with excitement, bolted into the room, uncaring of the fact she was about to show you the very thing you'd been trying to hide from Rumi.

"I found out why this happened!" She hollered, a large, withered book partially open in her hands. She dropped herself down on the opposite side of you from Mira, thrusting the book into your lap and pointing towards a highlighted paragraph.

As your eyes scanned over the sepia-toned page, Rumi moved closer. "Why what happened? What're you talking about?" Mira leaned closer to you, her own focus now on the words displayed in the book. Without meaning to, she blocked Rumi's ability to read it as well. Rumi scoffed, glaring at everyone individually. "Does anyone want to tell me what the hell has been going on lately?"

Ignoring her — blinded by her excitement and relief — Zoey bounced in her spot. "Turns out female demons can actually get a female human pregnant! It has something to do with some kind of ooze that they can excrete through the patterns on their fingers during intimacy."

While you, Zoey, and Mira all shared a collective sigh and a few laughs, completely relieved that you had finally figured it out, Rumi felt like her brain had short-circuited.

Why would they be bringing that up? Was that even true?

That was when every single symptom you had shown over the past few months came flooding back. It all pieced together at once, and she cursed at herself mentally for being so naive. Her hands gripped the back of the couch as she swayed, so startled by the information that she grew dizzy. The action caught your attention, as well as Zoey and Mira's, and you all turned to her.

"Rumi?" You whispered, trying to gauge her reaction.

Her eyes, glossy and distracted, struggled to find their way over to you. Even as her gaze met yours, it looked like she was staring right past you, her focus distant and the gears in her mind visibly turning. Before you could ask if she was okay, she spoke again, her voice nearly silent.

"You're pregnant?"

You could only nod after a moment of silence.

"And it's… mine?"

You nodded again, tears already welling up in your eyes.

"Yes, it's yours. I promise it is, Rumi. You know I'd never cheat on you." Despite the shaking in your legs, you stood, rounding the sofa to stand next to her and take one of her hands in your own. "There's no way it could be anyone else's." You watched as she lifted her other hand, palm up, and studied her fingers, recalling the explanation Zoey had given a moment prior.

"Rumi," you started again, voice breaking. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm so, so sorry. I was afraid of how you'd react. I wanted to figure out how it was even possible before I told you. That's what Zoey and Mira have been helping me out with the fast few months — that's why we've been coming up with excuses for everything."

"Yeah," Zoey chimed in cautiously, Mira being the only one to turn to her. "Those walks and everything else we told you we were going on? Most of those were trips to the doctor to make sure everything was okay."

That seemed to finally pull Rumi's gaze away from you. She turned to Zoey, her expression pained. "You mean to tell me I've been missing the appointments this whole time? The appointments made to make sure my baby is fine?" Even with the guilt her question brought you, there was also a sense of surprise.

Her baby?

She accepted it that quickly?

Was she even mad about the fact you were pregnant?

Had you been stressing out over her reaction for no reason the entire time?

Softly, you squeezed her hand, her eyes instantly darting back over to you. With a timidness you had tried to prevent, you spoke. "You aren't mad about me being pregnant?" Her eyes softened and seemed to finally focus on you properly. There was still a trace of hurt in her features, but now that she knew you were carrying her child and had been for a while, she knew instantly to focus on your feelings first.

"No, of course not." She turned to fully face you, taking your free hand into her own. "I'm just upset that you didn't tell me." A small, staggered breath filled her lungs. "Why didn't you tell me?" She turned to Mira and Zoey. "Why didn't any of you tell me? I have a right to know."

Mira glanced at you before focusing on Rumi again. "She was afraid you'd think she cheated on you. That's why we were so desperate to find an answer on how she got pregnant in the first place. We wanted to figure it out so we could explain it right away. We didn't think it would take so long."

It was clear that there was so much more that Rumi wanted to say, but she didn't want to focus on the anger at the moment. You'd just told her she was going to be a parent soon. That was a far better option on something to center in on.

She let out a heavy breath, though a warm smile followed suit right after, a sight that caught you off guard. Her eyes met yours briefly before dropping down to your stomach. One hand slipped from yours and hovered over the hem of your hoodie. "Could I…?" You nodded, then watched as she slid her hand underneath, fingertips greeting the bump before her palm grazed over it.

A small, short laugh left her, catching each of you by surprise.

"This is real?" She asked, her thumb caressing the skin. "It's really our baby in there?" Again, you nodded, relief the only thing you could feel when another hearty chuckle came from her. Keeping her hand on your belly, she stepped closer, closing her eyes once her forehead came into contact with yours. "That's incredible."

Maybe there hadn't been a reason to worry after all.

"Do you think the baby is going to like the clothes?"

"Well, they'll certainly have a lot of options to choose from. I'm sure they'll like something."

Time had passed, and so had a long, difficult conversation, one in which you explained the pregnancy so far to Rumi, who noted every detail to herself. You were nearly at the end of your third trimester, and you and Rumi were both excitedly counting down the days until your due date.

Shortly after she had finally found out about your pregnancy, Rumi had gone all out, decorating a spare room head to toe with things she'd think the baby would enjoy. The dresser in the nursery was packed full of baby clothes, nearly overflowing the drawers. Each time she found a new set of clothes, she'd buy them without hesitation, even though you tried repeatedly to convince her to pull back a bit.

She never fully did, but you were honestly relieved to see her so excited about the baby, considering you had feared the worst for the first five months. Most days, you were convinced that she was more excited than you were. She was, in all fairness. Starting a family with you, especially now that she was in a great spot in her career and she wasn't constantly worried about hiding herself away, felt like a dream come true.

She often found herself resting her head against your belly, talking to the little one growing there with a soothing voice. She'd fill the baby in on her day, already exaggerating things in a theatrical way that you knew she'd continue with when she'd read stories to them in the future.

That's where she was now: the two of you were lying on the sofa in the den, your back propped up comfortably on pillows that leaned into the armrest, Rumi settled between your legs with her ear pressed up against the baby bump. Her fingers grazed beneath your shirt and against your skin, her voice soft and slow as she spoke both to you and the baby.

She hummed after a moment, turned her head to press a quick kiss to your stomach, then glanced up at you properly again.

"God, I'm so excited to meet them," she murmured, a warm smile on her lips as her eyes dropped back down to your stomach. You hummed, mirroring her grin. You lifted your hand, letting your fingers rake through her strands, loose from their usual braid but still up in a ponytail.

"I am, too. I am curious about who they'll look more like. Either we're going to have a mini-me or mini-you running around, or they'll be a combo of both." She nodded, trying to picture what they would possibly look like. "Well, either way, I know I'm going to love whoever they turn out to be."

There was a pause, one filled with uncertainty and a sense of fondness. She turned her attention back to you. "Do you… think they'll like me? That I'll be a good parent to them?"

Your brows lifted, heart fluttering at the sincerity in her eyes. A beat passed, and you recalled the last few months, remembering every little thing she'd done to make sure you and the baby were both safe and comfortable, even when she had to go out to take care of something.

No matter what time it was, or how difficult your request was, she always helped you out without hesitation. She was eager to make sure you were happy during the pregnancy. The day after she found out about it, she'd already packed a bag for the hospital, disregarding the fact there had still been another few months before you would even get close to delivering.

There was no way that attentiveness and excitement would dwindle away after the birth, and she proved that to you every day, never failing to show you and the baby how much she loved you both. The baby wasn't even born yet, yet the way she talked about them to anyone on the outside made it seem like they'd been born and living for months already.

You hummed again, smiling kindly down at her and cupping the side of her face in your palm.

"You'll be an incredible mother, Rumi," you finally answered, watching her eyes soften and fill with love.

"They're going to love you as much as you already love them."

Started on: August 3rd, 2025 Finished on: August 3rd, 2025

[monsterkissed]

the idea that you should only "give weight" to opinions based on the speaker is brain poison, but also like. "if you say an opinion i find dubious then i get to demand you out yourself to me and if you refuse then i will default to assuming you are the kind of person i am allowed to dismiss, talk over and publicly trash for internet clout points. we all agree that this is fine and good" like what the fuck is this? so if a trans person has a take you don't like and declines to tell you personal info over it then it's chill to misgender them? and to argue that you need to do this to protect vulnerable groups is so telling because hey, which groups do we think might have Really Good Reasons not to out themselves to every single hostile interrogator in their notes? but the assumption here is that transfems would never take issue with how other transfems treat them and anyone else doesn't get to take issue with it because they'd deserve it. this is what rigid binary thinking does to people, this assumption that everyone else is working from the same playbook and there's no such thing as friendly fire because anyone on your team was born agreeing with you. of course any random amab nb on the internet would understand that being forcibly outed by a rude stranger (who is clearly only doing it to win an argument on tumblr) is fine because the person demanding it belongs to the team who's allowed to ask invasive questions about your genitals. of course the only people who would object are afab nbs and they would only object because they wanted to win the argument, not because it's invasive or rude or very clearly being demanded in the worst possible faith.

i think there are actually pretty good reasons why anyone, and especially other trans people, would not want their junk to be a matter of public discourse, and i think this witch trial thing where only the guilty would object to the nature of the test is blatant and self-serving. and the op is 100% right that it is entirely about people not respecting nb genders at all and working backwards from there to invent reasons as to why we're not allowed to have privacy or boundaries

hey i saw in your bio that you're nb, can you tell me which slurs a transphobe might call you if they wanted to bash your head in? i need to know if i should treat you as transfem lite or ciswoman lite

[robinavitchswhore]

Uh Oh

Summary: Robby and his wife are thrust into an unexpected situation. One that is most definitely his fault.

Warnings: Throwing up, pregnancy, arguing. AN: I hope you enjoy! Any and all feedback is welcome!

Robby is in the middle of a case when his phone won’t stop buzzing. When he finally gets a chance to look at it as he’s leaving, what he wasn’t expecting is a slew of texts from you. 

Smokeshow 😍

2:30 “Hey baby, still feeling bad. The meds we have at home aren’t helping.”

6:17 “Can you grab pizza or something on the way home? Don’t feel like cooking.”

6:45 “Michael. Oh my fucking God.”

6:46 “I’m late. Like really fucking late.”

6:46 “I am going to kill your urologist”

6:46 “You better go up there right now and see why in the hell your wife is late when you had a vasectomy.”

6:50 “Pick up pizza and pregnancy tests before you come home”

He reads all of your messages over and over, trying to call you but it just keeps going to voicemail. He decides to do something right and get exactly what you asked for. Pizza and pregnancy tests. 

He walks into a quiet house, Elaine is reading a little book on the couch. MJ is watching some movie (that he is way too young to be watching by all the gore he sees happening). But you, you are nowhere to be found. 

He gives each kid a kiss on their forehead. Putting the pizza on the coffee table for them to ravage. “Where’s your momma?” He sighs running his hand through his hair. Neither kids look at him. Just pointing upstairs. 

Robby trudges upstairs and is met with you, hunched over the toilet. “Oh honey” He says, rubbing your back and holding your hair.

“I am gonna kill you” You groan, sitting back, leaning into his hold. 

“Shower, you smell like a hospital and it’s making me more nauseous. I’ll take the test and we can look when you get out.” You groan, grabbing the box of tests from him and pushing him towards the shower. 

15 minutes later he is standing behind you, still dripping water and in a towel.

“Fuck, I can’t look. You have to.” You sigh turning and burying you face in his chest. Body practically shaking with nerves.

He sighs, flipping the test around and you feel his body instantly tense. “What? What does it say?"

He doesn’t respond, you can feel the way his heart rate picks up, you look up at him with wide eyes. Turning in his old to look at the plastic test. Which does in fact have two dark pink lines.

You let out something that is a mix of a sob and a laugh. “I-I don’t understand you had a vasectomy. You went for your follow up. Why the fuck am I pregnant.”

He stares at the test mumbling out, “I mean it's rare, but it can happen.”

“Rare? No Michael, rare is stubbing the same toe twice in the same day. This is fucking catastrophic. Y-you went for your follow up right?” You heave. His silence answers that question for you. “You went to your follow up right Michael?” 

“I was supposed to, but I had to stay late at work, and MJ had a game and I thought it would be okay. I mean they’re 99.9% effective.” He stammers out, which somehow enrages you more. 

“Well guess what Michael! You’re the .1%! We were two and done, and now i’m fucking pregnant again. We just got to where we were comfortable, I mean Elaine is 11 and self sufficient, MJ is 10 and we don't have to tell him to shower everyday anymore. Now we have to start all over?!” 

“Hey hey, it’s gonna be okay. We’re gonna figure it out. I know it isn’t ideal but we’ll work it out. C’mon maybe this isn’t such a bad thing.” He says into your hair. Rubbing your back to calm you. “I’m sorry baby, this is my fault. I should’ve gone back for my follow up.”

Your lip wobbles, but you’re still furious. “You think? I mean, Jesus, Michael. I drank wine last weekend. I had sushi yesterday. I thought we were done with all this! I’m almost 40 and now we start all over?”

The bathroom is silent for a while. Your voice breaks it. “We’re gonna figure it out right? I mean we did it before.” 

“Mhm we will be fine baby, we have done this before and we will do it again.” 

You huff, heading out of the bathroom before snarkily calling over your shoulder, “Hope you’re ready for the  3 A.M feedings again, Daddy.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

Selene and Soleil

See Me Through You Blurb

Synopsis: While working on the nursery, you and your husband brainstorm names for your twin girls

Pairing: Husband!Joe Burrow x Wife!Reader

Series Masterlist

Requested by: a gorgeous anon 😍

Please Do Not Repost My Content Anywhere

Sitting on the floor of what was going to be the nursery for the twins, you were folding clothes that you had bought for both of them earlier in the day. Once again, you couldn't sleep so you figured that you wouId occupy your time doing something in the nursery.

You were about halfway through your pregnancy and it was getting more and more uncomfortable to get any sleep and you were still having episodes of morning sickness which by now was considered to be hyperemesis gravidarum.

When you had finished, you placed them inside the dresser when you got the bright idea of building their cribs. It was 3 in the morning and needed to do your best in order to be as quiet as possible since Joe was sleeping.

Joe and Ja'Marr told you that they would do it on Friday and drag Tee along, but you figured that you were up now and might as well get it done.

Halfway through the first crib, your husband's voice startled you.

“Baby, are you serious right now? It is literally 4:30 in the morning. Put the drill down. Now, come back to bed.”

Your head whipped around to see him standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and you slowly put down the directions that you were reading in your left hand and your right hand that was holding the drill.

“I can't sleep and I'm bored!” You whined and threw your head back as you felt one of them kick.

“Hey! Quiet in there! You're already keeping me up past my bedtime.” You said while rubbing your belly as Joe simply laughed at you.

“I told you that we were going to do it on Friday. Last thing I want or need is you hurting yourself.” He replied as he fully walked into the room.

“I'm fine, everything's fine! I'm already halfway done with the first one.” You replied as you showed him your progress.

As he shook his head at you, you simply held out your hand that had the directions and he quickly took it from you.

“Um, babe? No offense, but I think I can do this by myself. You aren't very…. Hmm…. How should I put this?” You started to say and then trailed off.

“I am very capable of building my own children's cribs.” Joe raised an eyebrow at you as a tight lipped smile made its way across your face.

“Um, do you remember when you attempted to put those shelves up in my apartment at LSU?”

“That was one time! I thought that the screws were tighter.”

“Luckily, I hadn't put anything on them and they went tumbling to the floor. Almost hit Erin in the head.”

“Well she shouldn't have been in the way of the shelves.” He replied as he was looking at the directions and attempting to build the second crib.

It was quiet for a few minutes before you asked him a question.

“Have you come across any names yet?”

“Thelma and Louise.” He said as he glanced up at you and smirked.

“You're about to get kicked out of the nursery and banished to our bedroom.”

“But seriously, I haven't really come across any that I think would be perfect for them. Still can't believe I'm going to be a girl dad. I'm excited. Either way, I would have been excited since really all I want is for them to be healthy. Small versions of us running around.”

“And you're going to be an amazing one. I already know it.” You replied as you smiled at him.

“I hope so, what if I mess up?”

“Well parenthood is not like riding a bike, so we are definitely going to mess up. Oh! I have an idea. Since you love space so much, why don't we give them space themed names?”

“Okay, I like that idea. Zenon and Nebula.” He said without missing a beat and you rolled your eyes.

“No, Joey!”

“What!? Zenon is one of your favorite movies.”

“Yes, that's true, but no.”

“Are we going for like Hidden Figures or?”

“Whatever you think of and then we can decide.”

“Maybe Mae for one of their middle names. You know Mae Jemison? First black woman to go to space?” Joe suggested and you immediately smiled, loving the idea.

“That’s perfect.”

“Would you want the other to be Katherine? Named after you and Katherine Johnson?” He asked and you shook your head no.

“I want her to have her own identity and make a way for herself. Even though we are naming them after other people, I don’t want them to feel as though they have to meet certain expectations in order to live up to it. I think that might be too much pressure, my middle name? And one of the women responsible for getting someone into space? Might be a little much.”

“Sian.”

“Yes!”

“Dr. Sian Proctor was the first black woman to actually pilot a spacecraft in like 2013 or something.” Joe told you as he had now successfully set up one side of the crib. You could tell that he was pretty proud of himself despite not really letting it show.

All while, you had finished and was waiting for your husband to get up so that he could turn it right side up.

Silence overtook the room as the idea suddenly popped into your head.

“Baby, you okay?” Joe asked as he put down the drill.

“I got it.”

“Got what?”

“Their first names. Sun and moon.”

“And you were talking about my names that I suggested?” He asked in disbelief.

“No, silly. That's the meaning of the names. We're not literally naming them that.”

“Then share with the class.”

“Selene and Soleil.” You said as you smiled.

“Selene Mae Burrow and Soleil Sian Burrow.”

“And they're going to be absolutely perfect.”

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

Wrapped in pink

This idea came from this post thank you so much @askii-your-girly for letting me write this idea <3

A/N: gif isn't mine and this was written on my phone in the app so it might be messy 😅

Superman's weakness was Kryptonite but Clark’s weakness was always you.

You could always, somehow, get that man to say yes no matter what the situation was. That's how his Sundays ended up being scheduled as self-care days with headbands and face masks and takeout and a week's worth of ranting/gossiping being thrown at him. It's how he ended up watching movies like A Walk to Remember and The Fault in Our Stars, which he could totally handle, and totally not cry during, but its also how he agreed to watch The Exorcist and Halloween...movies he could totally not handle.

So really...it shouldn't be a surprise when he agreed to a pink bow being tied around him. Granted he was, and still is, confused by why it's tied around him.

"Babyyyy" you practically sang as you twirled the ribbon between your fingers. "I need your help with something my love." He was there in seconds. "How may I help darling?" If you werent so focused on the task at hand you would've teased him for saying may, noting the lack of teasing he knew this must've been serious.

"So there's this trend... It's so simple you don't even have to do a thing!" You presented the pink ribbon to him, "Let me tie this around you?" You ask a bit more timidly suddenly feeling silly about the whole thing. Clark nodded but then tilted his head like a lost puppy, "Wait isn't that a bit small? That won't go around me babydoll."

"But it will go around this..." you trailed off as you wrapped it around his bicep. "Oh." He mumbled before blushing, "Oh! Um...why? Why are we tying my bicep up?" He asked bright red as he watched you tie the neatest bow with the pink velvet fabric.

"Well it's a trend. People are showing off their big strong boyfriends and I don't know...it's cute." You shrugged, "its like my mark on you."

Clark felt his heart skip a beat at the thought of having your mark on him. Gosh your mark...on him...

"I'll never take it off." He says it completely seriously, making you laugh. "You can take it off after I take a few pictures Super I don't mind." Your assurance is met with a stern disagreement. "No way! You marked me darling this isn't coming off until you take it off."

However, his heart ached at the idea of you taking this silly little bow off of him. He let you take your pictures but then the house phone rang and he went off to answer it. Hours went by before you noticed the pink ribbon still wrapped around your boyfriend.

"Clark! Seriously you never took it off?" He shook his head, "I told you I wouldn't...But I honestly forgot it was there." His confession made you look at him in disbelief. "You're telling me...you were flying around in your suit and a pink ribbon all night? You-you fought that weird creature thing with that still on?" There was a bit of silence before he eventually said..."Well yeah."

You always knew you could get Clark to agree to almost anything but this...this really solidified the fact that Clark Kent, Superman, would do whatever you asked him to do.

Tagging:

@nomajdetective

@disillusioniary

@poltergeistsidekick

[cupidchaes]

 †　　　 𓈒　(   G̲N̲A̲R̲L̲Y̲ ꨄ︎  LARA )  .

我 ⸼ ࣪ ✿ ◌ ۪ contents. lara raj x fem! katseye member! reader, katseye au, nsfw, having a strap in while on live what could go wrong??

notes. ts is pretty nasty my apologies.. got the live idea from this post by @yameoto / and some of the user comments are inspired by the lovely @sillymommy6969

the phone is balanced high on the desk, angled just enough to frame lara raj sitting on the edge of presumably her gaming chair, with you delicately perched on her lap. body angled toward the camera like you’re just cuddled close, her arm wrapped loosely around your waist, the view ending just at just your covered upper midriff.

beneath the frame, lara is buried inside you. the strap fills you so deeply it aches, the base pressing flush against her, the thick silicone stretching you open around it. she’s not moving—not really—just a slow, deliberate roll of her hips now and then when she's feeling generous.

lara does some half-assed introdution, from the corner of your ear you can hear something about dance practice and 'wanting to check in' ahead of lolla. bullshit.

all you do is nod, and try to not to make any awkward facials as she grazes her nails over your thighs.

user01: awww lara sounds so excited user02: is y/n sitting on lara's lap????? what. user03: pls pls give some lollapalozza spoilers!!! user04: why does y/n look so upset user05: girl she's just tired

you bite the inside of your cheek to keep quiet, dead focus your gaze onto the comments, which does not help. because under the casual facade, she’s moving again, inching her hips upward with just enough force to make you clench around her. each thrust is slow, deep, deliberate—she’s fucking you without fucking you, just enough to make you lose a bit of focus.

lara laughs at something in the chat, throwing her head back, "you guys are ridiculous," she says, and at the same time, she snaps her hips sharply upward. and you almost roll your eyes right then and there, quickly catching yourself.

user06: why is y/n zoning out midlive?? 😭 user07: why do i feel like i'm thirdwheeling user08: is lara keeping y/n hostage or what.

"am i keeping y/n hostage? what are y'all even saying," she drags out the last phrase as if the eyekon in the chat had personally hate crimed her, "y/n loves me," she trails, "don't you?"

all while dragging the strap out inch by inch, only to push it back inside right when you were about to answer, so slow the stretch burns. slick coats and drips down her thighs.

you swallow hard, choking down a sound that would have been somewhat of a whine. your voice cracks when you finally manage a thin, almost sarcastic, “yeah. love you.”

lara smiles, patting your thigh in silent praise before glancing back at the comments. “see?” she coos, rocking her hips just enough to make you bite back another whimper. “she loves me.” as if it were something to prove.

user09: oh my ynlara you are so dear and real to me user10: GIRLL SHE DID NOT MEAN THAT HHHH user11: help lara is such a praise whore i'm shitting bricks user12: y/n blink twice if you're being held at gunpoint

every time she pulls out, the stretch feels unbearable, a slick ache that leaves you fluttering around nothing. every time she sinks back in, the head of the strap presses so deep you can feel it in every fiber of your being. you grip the edge of the chair arm so hard your knuckles whiten, as your muscles strain with the effort of not squirming.

“you okay?” she asks suddenly, tone dipped in fake concern, like she’s talking to the chat. but her eyes are locked on you, daring you.

you do your best to nod, looking back at the chat and giving a lazy thumbs up as the both of you laugh at the same time.

lara gives one last slow thrust, bottoming out and holding there, letting you clench desperately around her as the orgasm washes over you while you bent under the set up phone so nobody would see you. laras long fingers reach out to gently stuff into your mouth so you wouldn't let out a noise.

“alright, i think we’ve bored them enough,” she says breezily, scrolling with one hand while the other still cages you to her. waiting for a few more seconds, acting as if she were reading eyekons reactions, while she was waiting for you to regain yourself. before she taps your cheek, “say bye, baby.”

you pull back up to wave, dazed, "see you at lolla."

user13: what's up w that authorative tone miss global pop sensation lara raj user14: hope you feel better soon y/n!!! user15: that sounded strained af user16: BYEEE

⭐ one new ( WEVERSE ) notification !

Y/n: eyekons i'm so sry!!! i know i looked ROUGH on last night's live Y/n: i felt super tired cause we were rehearsing the whole prior day Y/n: I know i barely said anything forgive me

⭐ one new ( WEVERSE ) notification !

Lara Raj: guys. y/n loves me. the rumors are true Lara Raj: I'M SO SERIOUS WHY DOES NOBODY BELIEVE ME

[goobstars]

hiya!!! I wanted to sneak in here to leave a request :3 could I pawsibly ask for a sebastian x fem reader who is very talkative and genuinely interested in his appearance the first time they enter his shop? :3 /nf of course, thank you so much in advanced if you do!! ♡♡ love your writing so much

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐘

summary : usually, when expendables first arrived in sebastian's shop, they were horrified, so why was it that you weren't?

tags : fluff, profanity, and mentions of death.

note : thank you so much, and i hope you enjoy !

sebastian had seen it all.

looks of horror, trauma, regret, remorse—you name it.

expressions like that weren't uncommon when it came to expendables, and he couldn't blame them for reacting the way they did. they had been sent down here with the hope of freedom, in which that hope was most likely crushed as soon as they set foot in the blacksite.

it wasn't exactly easy to keep a bright mind in the blacksite when you heard murderous fish barrel down the hallways, and it only got harder once you had to witness your fellow expendables being snatched by said fish.

or at least that's what sebastian had originally thought.

due to sebastian running a shop, he encountered many people—new and familiar. though, it didn't really matter if he had seen them a few times or not, for they all shared the same looks of despair in the end.

except for you.

you were what he deemed odd.

usually, sebastian didn't care to note whenever an expendable was new, but that was because they all were the same. you, on the other hand, couldn't have been more different.

according to the security footage painter had been watching of you, you were fairly bubbly. each step you took had a bounce to it while you hummed to yourself, and even during the gauntlets painter put you through, you'd talk to the computer like he wasn't trying to get you to look at the killer fish above you.

in painters' words, you were chatty.

and sebastian didn't doubt that for a moment as he heard the door shift open.

mumbles echoed through the room, and even when sebastian threw off the vent cover, you still didn't stop talking.

"THAT ALMOST HIT ME!"

your shout made him pause for a moment, but he quickly snapped out of his daze. "hey friend, over here—"

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT!?"

a frown sprawled across his face as he lifted a hand to grasp his temples, and he rubbed them for a moment while he heard you enter the vent. your movements were slow, and that made it evident you were questioning whether you should continue through the vent or turn back.

the room was filled with the sound of you shifting through the vent, and when it went quiet, sebastian moved his hand away from his face out of confusion.

he was met with the sight of your head poking out of the vent, but instead of looking frightened like he assumed you would be, you appeared more...in awe.

it was weird. sebastian had never gotten a look like that before, for the only expressions the expendables gave him were either ones of fear or disgust.

yet, here you were, staring at him like he was the coolest thing you've seen in your whole life. truly, he couldn't blame you for your expression, for it's not every day you see a talking fishman.

sebastian watched as you fully crawled out of the vent, and as soon as you stood up, he clasped his hands together.

"welcome, welcome! don't be afraid, i'm not going to hurt you, despite what you've seen, heard, and or been told." the words were ones he repeated often, and truly, he was only talking because he had to introduce himself to new expendables. he was just waiting for you to walk up to his tail, buy what you need, and walk out.

but you didn't.

you just continued to stare up at him, and he furrowed his eyebrows as he continued his greeting. "my name is sebastian—your only friend."

"you're my friend?"

sebastian peered at you for a moment before slightly nodding, "yes...?"

"then as your friend, can i ask why you have a tail?"

he really needed to stop telling the expendables that he was their friend.

a long sigh left his nose while his shoulders slumped, and he narrowed his eyes at you. "it's a long story, kid."

"i like stories!" you announced as you took a couple of steps towards him, and you plopped down on the floor with a smile.

you weren't going to leave him alone unless he told you, weren't you?

as sebastian noted the way you started up at him with expecting eyes, he got his answer.

he didn't have to explain the whole thing, right? he could just summarize what occurred with little details as possible, and he would just have to hope it was enough to satisfy you.

"i got experimented on by the scientists here before this place got abandoned." at his explanation, you slightly frowned. "that wasn't really a long story, but okay...is that why you have that thing on your head?"

sebastian's eye twitched in irritation, and he gave you a firm nod at your words. "does it ever get in your way? do you use it like a reading light when it gets dark?"

what type of questions were these?

sebastian was aware of his mutated parts, but he wasn't exactly fond of being reminded of them, and you were doing just that. his frown deepened with every query you shot his way, and just as he was about to gesture for you to be quiet, you spoke a question that made his mind go blank.

"why do you look so majestic?"

the question was one that some may deem corny, or idiotic, and sebastian wanted to say those things. he wanted to ask what you were talking about, for he assumed you were fibbing in your question. never once had he been called such a thing, for the only remarks he'd got on his appearance were that he was a disgusting monster, or that he was filthy.

those were what he was used to—not whatever nonsense you were spewing out.

but as he peered into your eyes, there was that same genuine look in them that had been present ever since you entered his shop. you weren't questioning him about his looks out of taunt, but rather curiosity.

sebastian's eyes slightly widened as he remained quiet for a moment, and he tilted his head at you. "you're serious?"

you blinked at him a few times, "...yeah?"

"you're odd, you know that, right?"

at sebastian's ask, you didn't appear offended in the slightest. you just gave him a wide smile before responding. "yep! painter told me! he also told me that he used to mine this thing called 'roblux', and he told me he'd show me some things he drew when i get to his room."

it seems you also got through to the computer.

the aggravation sebastian felt earlier flickered into a form of contentment as a small smile sprawled across his face, and he hummed. "is that so?"

"yep! i should probably keep going so i can find his room—" you mumbled as you stood up from the ground, and you dusted yourself off. "bye, sebastian!"

you were already leaving? you hadn't even bought anything.

which, you didn't really give him the chance to explain how to buy things from him, but you'd figure it out eventually.

"do you need anything before you go?" sebastian questioned as he gestured to his tail, and you eyed the items before shaking your head. "nope!"

"how about that keycard that's beside the radio?"

at sebastian's words, you peered over your shoulder to stare at the radio, and you perked up at the sight of the keycard. "thanks, sebastian!"

you walked over to the table before grasping the keycard, and you then made your way to the vent as you crawled inside of it.

sebastian listened as the door to the next room beeped, and he heard your footsteps fade away as you exited his hallway.

the sound of the radio on sebastian's balcony made him glance at it, and after a second, painter's voice echoed through it.

"the last time an expendable asked you questions like that, you blew their head clean off."

of course, painter had been listening the whole time.

"and when was the last time you offered to show an expendable some of your drawings?"

at sebastian's remark, painter paused for a moment before replying. "fair point."

you had managed to get through to both painter and sebastian, and this was only your first run.

you really were odd, weren't you?

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐛𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 ⭑.ᐟ

miya atsumu x f!reader

the miya twins help you dye your hair — and nearly kill each other in the process.

part fifteen of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

The idea came to you on a Friday night.

You were editing your final paper for your world lit class, limbs splayed across your bed. Music thrumming from your laptop. The door to your and Atsumu's shared bathroom was wide open, the setter absentmindedly singing along to Katseye's Gabriela as he applied a generous layer of bleach to his roots.

"What?" he asked when you shot him a sideways glance through the doorway. "Why are ya starin' at me like that? I only know the words to this song 'cause ya play it 24/7!"

"No, it's not that," you laughed, although you were amused by how easily Atsumu had adopted your music taste as of late. "It's just...I don't think I've ever seen you dye your hair before, is all."

"...oh. Really?" He furrowed his brow, eyes trained on his reflection as he worked the bleach into his hair with the applicator brush. "Feels like I do it all the time at this point."

You lowered your laptop screen and watched him work, gaze following each easy, practiced swipe of the brush across his hair. He was surprisingly attractive like that — what with his black latex gloves, the concentrated expression on his face. Either that, or the bleach fumes were sufficiently getting to your head.

After a long moment, you asked, "When did you start dyeing your hair? Was it in high school?"

"Yeah," he replied, using his brush to pick up some more product from the bowl he'd mixed just minutes before. "At first, I did it just so people would quit mistakin' me for Samu."

"Really? You two are so different, though,” you said amusedly. "I can't imagine anyone having a hard time telling you two apart."

"Yeah, well, everyone did at some point. Our teachers, our teammates. It was only when girls started comin' up to me thinkin' I was 'the nicer, quieter one' that I really got pissed off."

You snorted. "You are a lot rowdier compared to Osamu."

"That don't mean I'm any less nice!" he retorted. "Anyways, I got so fed up with correctin' people that I bleached my hair one night and never went back. Samu even went grey for a while."

"I can only imagine what your mom thought at first."

"Oh, she was mortified," Atsumu chuckled. "She was convinced the bleach would seep through to our brains. Which, it probably did, but I think we turned out okay.”

A small smile flickered across your lips.

"So now that you and Osamu are in two completely different places, would you ever go back to your natural hair color?"

Atsumu's nose scrunched at the thought. "Nah. Don't get me wrong, it looks great on him, but...it just doesn't really feel like me anymore, ya know?"

"That makes sense," you hummed in agreement. "I can't imagine you with any other hair color."

"Right? I dunno, it gives me a confidence boost," he said, briefly checking himself out in the mirror. "Makes me feel like hot shit."

"You see, it's sentences like that that make me wonder why anyone would ever mistake you for your brother," you drawled, returning to your essay with a humored look on your face.

Katseye continued to sing in the background as Atsumu asked, "Have ya ever thought about dyein' yer hair?"

"A couple times," you admitted, scrolling through your essay and changing a word here and there. "The most I would ever do is bleach the ends, but...I don't think I could pull it off."

"Bullshit," Atsumu scoffed. "Anyone can pull off anythin' with the right attitude."

You pursed your lips to one side as Atsumu set a timer on his phone for thirty minutes and began clearing off the bathroom counter. Fingers combing through your overgrown hair, you realized just how long it had been since you'd done anything remotely interesting with it. You'd made your fair share of spontaneous decisions over the years — quarantine bangs and drastic post-breakup cuts included — but never bleach.

"Huh?" Atsumu balked, making sure he’d heard your question correctly. "Ya want me to dye yer hair? Now?”

"Why not?" You shrugged. "It would just be the ends. And if it turns out really shitty, we can always just chop it off."

"I dunno, babe. Ya sure yer parents would want ya to have bleach blonde tips in yer graduation photos?"

"Sure." You rolled your eyes. "'Cause between dancing in skimpy skirts and dating my roommate, bleaching my hair is somehow the most offensive to my parents."

At that, the tips of Atsumu's ears turned bright red.

"Ya know, I think the only reason ya get away with so much is because ya make such good grades."

You smiled sweetly and said, "It's called give and take, baby."

That's how you ended up here. Atsumu's towel thrown over your shoulders. Desk chair squeezed between the sink and the bathtub. A bottle of 30-volume developer staring back at you. Atsumu had even asked his brother to bring over a roll of tin foil after his shift at the restaurant, Osamu eyeing your makeshift salon with about as much judgement as one might imagine.

"Ya sure ya trust him not to fry yer hair off?" he asked, folding his arms across his chest as he stood in the threshold to the bathroom.

"Would ya shut it, jackass?" Atsumu shot back, furiously mixing the bleach powder in with the developer. "This was her idea."

"It was," you admitted from the desk chair. "Spontaneous senior year decisions, am I right?"

Osamu merely shook his head, squeezing himself into the cramped bathroom and perching himself on the lip of the bathtub. "Ya really are made for each other."

The plan was simple: backcomb the ends of your hair. Apply the bleach in even sections. Set a timer for each strand to ensure minimal damage. Atsumu had watched all of two TikToks in preparation for this, and yet you were surprisingly trusting in his ability to not fuck up your hair. It felt nice. Reassuring, even.

He wished he could say the same for his twin brother.

Gently brushing the bleach mixture into the first strand of hair, Atsumu cut Osamu a glare and tsked in annoyance.

"Would ya quit breathin' down my neck? I can't concentrate."

"What? Ya made me drive all the way across town for this — the least I can do is make sure ya don't botch it," Osamu quipped, observing Atsumu's every move like Gordon Ramsay on an episode of Hell's Kitchen.

"Make sure ya work it in evenly so it's not patchy," Osamu interjected, gesturing to a spot his brother had missed.

You swore you saw Atsumu's jaw feather in the mirror.

"I know how to bleach hair, jackass."

Once Atsumu finished the first section, he grabbed a square of tin foil from the pile you'd pre-cut and began folding it into your hair. From the bathtub, you could feel Osamu seething in frustration.

"Yer technique is horrible," the chef managed through bared teeth, swatting Atsumu's hand away so he could do it himself. "Yer crumplin' the foil like it's a fuckin' fast food wrapper!"

"Would ya get off my back? Not all of us spend a million hours a day foldin' rice into seaweed!"

"At least I know how to make rice, ya dumbass!"

Soon enough, the argument devolved into a full-blown debate over who could dye your hair better. They passed the applicator brush back and forth, comparing techniques, scolding each other any chance they got. All the while, you couldn't help but laugh at how competitive they'd become. Was this what they were like back in high school? Constantly bickering? Pushing each other to be better?

"Why ya gigglin' down there?" Osamu murmured, feathering the bleach into your hair with surgical precision.

"Ya think this is funny?" Atsumu echoed, folding the tin foil into your hair like it was an Olympic sport.

"Sorry, it's just..." you stifled your laugh as Atsumu fumbled with the timers on his phone. "I can see why people got you two mixed up now. You both are huge perfectionists."

Osamu merely blinked back at your observation. Atsumu, on the other hand, looked downright appalled.

"Perfectionists," Atsumu scoffed in disbelief, snatching the brush away from his brother so he could finish the last section of your hair. "At least I don't alphabetize my spice rack."

Osamu drawled, "Says the setter who called me trash for not hittin' his spikes with 100% accuracy."

Atsumu elbowed his brother square in the gut.

Once it was time to rinse out your hair, you kicked them both out of the bathroom and locked the door, the shower loud enough to drown out the sounds of their verbal sparring. In the living room, Atsumu and Osamu sat on opposite ends of your couch like two toddlers put in a timeout.

"Wanna play Super Smash Bros?" Atsumu asked after a long minute, jutting his chin towards the Nintendo Switch on the console. "Loser owes the other dinner."

Osamu's jaw ticked at the challenge. "Yer on."

On screen, Captain Falcon and Ike battled it out in Pokémon Stadium, the orchestral swell of the background music outcompeting the sound of the shower running across the apartment.

"How are things goin' between the two of ya?" Osamu asked, thumbs flying across the controller with ease.

"Good. We've both been pretty busy, honestly," Atsumu admitted. "Haven't had much time for a date night."

Osamu hummed. "Have ya asked her to be yer girlfriend yet?"

Atsumu winced as Ike sent Captain Falcon flying across the arena with a single blow to the chest.

"No. I haven't."

"And why not?" Osamu drawled, eyes never leaving the screen as he maintained his offensive stance. "Don't ya want her to be?"

"Of course I want her to be," Atsumu grumbled, flailing with the controller as his damage increased by the second. "I'm just...waitin' for the right moment to ask her. She's been so stressed out with finals and job applications, it just doesn't feel right to pile somethin' else on her plate."

A scoff escaped Osamu's lips. "Yer not puttin' a task on her to-do list, Tsumu.”

"Sure, but it's a big decision!" Atsumu argued. "I dunno. The last time I got into a relationship, I feel like I pressured us into makin' things official 'cause I was so damn insecure. I don't wanna do that with Y/N."

Osamu considered his brother's words, the rare earnestness behind them.

"She's the real deal for ya, isn't she?"

Atsumu faltered just enough for Ike to land one final blow, Captain Falcon flying off the screen in a blaze of unadulterated defeat. "Game!" the announcer boomed.

Osamu smirked as Atsumu dropped the controller into his lap and sighed.

"Yeah," he mumbled miserably, not even caring that he'd lost. "Yeah, she is."

Osamu chuckled. "Well, don't keep her waitin' too long. Else she might start gettin' the wrong idea."

"I won't," Atsumu promised. "Now stop makin' me admit all this sappy shit and play me again. Best two outta three."

You emerged from the bathroom forty minutes later, having toned, deep conditioned, blow-dried, and curled your new hair for good measure. The twins did a double-take as you entered the living room, a stunned expression on both of their faces as you ran your fingers through your long locks and held your hands out expectantly.

"So? What do we think?"

"I..." Atsumu stammered, blinking back at the way your hair tumbled past your shoulders. You looked like a Revlon commercial come to life. Were they responsible for that?

"...I didn't know ya had a curlin' iron," he finished dumbly.

"Turned out better than I expected," Osamu drawled, a smirk toying on his lips as he leaned back against the couch cushions to admire your new look. "The ashy blonde suits ya. Really brings out yer eyes."

At that, Atsumu shot his brother a glare.

"Would ya quit flirtin' with her?"

"What? She looks good!" Osamu exclaimed, gesturing towards you.

"Well, I have the two of you to thank for that," you laughed, smiling at their handiwork beneath the warm lights of your apartment. The bleached tips blended in seamlessly with your natural hair, the color soft. Subtle. Lifted just enough to keep things interesting.

"I love it," you admitted after a while. "Thank you."

The sincerity in your voice had them blushing identical shades of red. Perhaps they were more similar than you'd initially thought.

"Yeah, well, it wouldn't have turned out like that if it weren't for me," Osamu murmured.

"Excuse me?" Atsumu balked. "Ya haven't dyed yer hair in over four years!"

You merely rolled your eyes and went back into your bedroom, making a mental note to treat them both to ice cream once they'd stopped bickering.

It would be another forty minutes before you ushered them out the front door.

a/n: next chapter is an angsty one, y'all. i'm equal parts excited and nervous. 🫢

@miyasmagnolias, 2025

[paramythas]

𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐁𝐄 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐑, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒, 𝐈𝐅 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐄 it a point to note that the whole thing was caused by 'magic' in a world that had lost access to most of it? Or would that just make things more complicated? In the end, economy of action makes the decision for her- it would take too much time to 'write' it all out without expanding on strange terminology he might not understand. And while she wouldn't mind having the 'talk', she doubts reading all of that while eating is anything either of them really wants to deal with.

(She could make the Cat explain again, but honestly she might snap its neck in plain sight and she'd definitely get some looks for that, illusion or no.)

He's right in assuming she doesn't really know the ins and outs of how it all worked though. In the end, she'd been collateral damage for a situation she hadn't orchestrated. Her... punishment, maybe, for being so dead-set on murder had been to be tossed to her apparent death like trash.

...honestly, maybe she should have gone back, just to kick Cinder's ass.

Chewing on a takoyaki, she's about to interject and say that she can figure it out herself if it's too much to explain but Chuuya... Chuuya is already talking. Head cocking, her eyes blink, swap colors in her surprise as Chuuya goes into it at length. He explains the concept easily enough, shows her what he means, goes on a tangent about the different ways in which they've been interpreted and she feels her lips twitch as she leans her chin on her hand, pulling some of her noodles to her mouth as she listens.

Some of the things he shows her make her think of fucked up Grimm, which she doesn't mention, but keeps in mind to bring up later. Instead, when he finishes, she gives him an amused little squint of the eyes and asks:

And you thought me talking about being from another world was strange?

They have an entire genre in this universe, apparently, about just that- though not in the same way. Neo slurps up her noodles, and then flicks her tongue out at him a little after she swallows.

You're such a hypocrite, Chuuya.

Not that she has a leg to stand on, given some of her own idiosyncrasies, but she thinks this is genuinely funny. Especially with the detail he's gone into explaining it to her. It's nice, actually; he sounds kind of into it- or at least being able to be a know-it-all about it- and his voice is nice to listen to. Still, regardless of how cute he sounds trying to act like a professor, Neo can't help but give him a little grief- after all, she's made a few explosives in her time, even if some of them used Dust rather than chemicals. Didn't mean she didn't know what they did.

I've never been big on science, but I do know what methane is, thanks. That said, are you into aliens, or is it more space? Or maybe just weird things that you wouldn't know how to explain? Huh. Kind of explains why you're so curious about me, doesn't it?

Neo scoops up more noodles, blowing on them lightly before gulping down a mouthful that would make her etiquette teachers die of mortification.

Either way, thanks. We don't really... have that kind of thing on Remnant. Mostly just fairy tales. Though all things considered, I don't think going into space would have been something we'd consider. I mean... what if there were even weirder, more fucked up Grimm up there? They're bad enough on the planet.

Making sure to swallow her noodles again before she 'laughs', Neo shakes her head, pausing to take a drink. She has to give Chuuya credit- this is the best time she's had in ages- and she genuinely can't remember the last time someone made her actually want to laugh like this.

Or maybe we were just too dumb to realize that was the only way to escape them.

The silent contemplation just gives him time to enjoy his food, even if he's still subtly watching her just a bit. Not enough to be obnoxious about it, but enough to measure that she's weighing what she wants to say and how to say it.

All valid, really, considering he imagines falling between worlds isn't exactly some common, simple thing. At least, he doubts it is. There's probably some kind of complexity to it.

At the very least, there is plenty and plenty of of theorem on the concept of alternate worlds or other habitable planets, so on that front, his mind is open to many explanations.

Even if, on a standpoint of experience, most things can still be explained from a framework of Abilities.

Most things, except the one thing that comes closest to maybe, possibly, being a genuine alien. Not unless Dazai was wrong about there being no exceptions to his Ability.

Pocket dimensions, he can accept as real. He'd seen that ex-spy Randou create one in front of his very eyes, much as he'd prefer not to think about that. He'd been stuck for a while inside the space-time contradiction that was Guivre's body, for a time, and by all rights he never should have managed to escape alive if not for Adam. There was also that girl formerly from the Guild who was able to make an alternate dimension to trap people in that the Boss had gathered intelligence on personally.

So some kind of pocket void dimension? Okay, he can kind of accept that without too much trouble, even if there's still clearly pieces missing, though he's not completely sure if its for omission's sake or if Neo doesn't completely understand it either.

He chews on Neo's words a moment along with a prawn from his seafood noodles, trying to conceptualize all that she's telling him in his head.

The bit about being betrayed is... admittedly something he can sympathize with, if for entirely different reasons, and he recalls her hinting at something of that nature before.

"Yeah, I can understand that much."

At her question, he gives her a glance before sitting back a moment, and slips a phone from his pocket.

"Nah, it's not stupid. I figure there has to be some differences. An alien is like... basically anything not from this planet. Most pop fiction makes them out to be like little green men with big-ass bug eyes and even bigger heads that travel around outer space in flying discs. People usually call 'em UFOs... Unidentified Flying Objects."

He showed her pictures, some of the little green men, and some monsters of truly nightmarish imagination.

"At least that's how it started out, but you can find all kinds of interpretations of aliens now. They're a real popular subject. Octopi are a pretty popular base to model off of."

Considering that THING he met, he'd started to wonder since then if there wasn't actually something to that.

"Mostly it all just exists in the realm of science-fiction. No one's really proven that anything like them exists... not for certain anyway. From what we know, space is mostly just a lot of giant floating rocks and balls of burning gas," he points up at the sun. "Not much of anything in the way of life out there except maybe microorganisms and other simple life, and theorists say some of it probably isn't even on other planets, but on moons orbiting them, like there are some planets in our solar system further out that have moons they think are frozen on the surface but might have an ecosystem of liquid methane oceans underneath-- ...ah, methane is a flammable chemical gas that occurs naturally from the decay or burning of organic bio-mass, everything from bacteria to plants to animals... and it can be refined into usable gas for things like stove-tops, but it can also be dangerous and cause explosions if mishandled, like if you don't know there's a gas leak and set off a match, since methane is colorless and odorless."

He might be over-explaining... or not explaining enough. He's not sure which, really, but he's at least trying to make sure everything he says makes sense.

"Suffice to say, we don't really know exactly what sort of creatures would live in liquid methane but... considering just how weird shit gets at the bottom of the ocean around here, wouldn't be surprised if it was freaky as shit."

[bdbdbdbdmn]

another great question to ask yourself that's related to the "do you want to be a man, or do you just not want to be a woman?" conversation is "do you not want to be a man, or do you just not want to be perceived as the embodiment and endorser of all the bad things all cis men have ever done?" because i hate to break it to you but. you can want conflicting things and the reasons can be hard to decipher. you can also want something twice on top of that, too.

maybe you feel stuck because you don't want to be perceived as a woman because you're not a woman AND because it generally sucks, and then at the same time, you could also want to be perceived as a man because you are one AND ALSO not want to be perceived as a man because you'd then be associated with the fucked up actions of your gender (of which you are a victim of in one way or another, but probably more than one way).

cis people can want to be seen as their gender and also feel ashamed of it sometimes, so i don't know why trans people should have to revel in the negative stereotypes of their gender as "proof" that they really need to be trans.

[crashingcryptid]

Creature comfort- Part 5

Summary: Shopping with the team is an adventure, but it helps you understand foods they like, foods they want to try, and foods they lack in. After a very big haul, you expect all the wolves to leave the kitchen so you can cook. One pack member stays behind, though, wanting to get to know you.

You hadn't expected the whole team to come with you and Ghost the next day, but sure enough there they all were at leave time. The store was thankfully pretty empty since it had just opened. You had a list you wanted to complete. One good thing about having all of them with you was ordering them to different isles for items instead of running around yourself.

The only one who didn't want to stray far from you was Ghost. "You're tallest, which is good. You can grab all the stuff on high shelves." Was the task you assigned him, and he waited eagerly for you to ask him for stuff.

"What vegetables do you guys eat?" You ask as you scan the produce section, looking at the frozen vegetables you'd already picked out. Extras for you.

"Umm.. Lettuce for sandwiches sometimes?" Ghost offers, shyly lowering his ears when you give him a raised brow. "We don't really eat vegetables."

"We'll work on that. I can make pasta sauce with tons of veggies in it, and it's really good." You state, asking him to get you some bags for the vegetables and picking out some good tomatoes.

You knew Ghost came back because he sniffs the top of your head happily, nose nuzzling into one of your ears. "Smell good." He grunts, tail wagging slightly.

"Thank you, hun." You hum as you take the bag from him. He nuzzles your ear again, rumbling softly at you in contentment. "Hey now... No growling." You tease him just as Soap and Gaz come back to the cart with three packs of chicken breast and a giant log of ground beef. "You guys go through a lot of protein, no surprise there." You noted aloud, watching them pile everything into the cart.

"Can we get cookie dough?" Kyle asks, pointing toward the refrigerated section of the store. Simon nods beside you, looking down at you with borderline puppy dog eyes.

"The premade stuff? That stuff is good, but I can make some homemade cookies that are much better." You insist as you head toward the baking isle. Price was the last to find you all, holding two gallons of milk, some heavy cream, and a few boxes of butter.

"Is that everything? Because if we get anything else, we're going to need a second cart." You chuckle, looking at the huge collection of items in the cart.

"That should be enough. If we need something else, we can come back tomorrow." Price assures, and he notices how close each of the men stood by you. Three big wolf men who look at you like their den mother, and Price couldn't help but feel the same.

"I'll have breakfast in half an hour, so you guys can begin training. I promise I'll make bigger breakfasts after this." You explain after getting help unloading the giant load of groceries. "Does anyone want something specific?" You offer, but the kitchen is empty except for you and Johnny.

"Hi hun! Do you want something to snack on?" You offer up, going to grab a bag of jerky. Soap shakes his head while looking at you with something you couldn't put your finger on. He wasn't angry with you. He just seemed cautious. "Do you want to ask me something?" You inquire softly, which makes his ears perk up.

"How come we couldn't be with Simon yesterday? I don't get that, and it's not fair I couldn't be there for my mate." Johnny fires back at you, the words tumbling out rapidly before he could try and stop them. "I'm sorry, I know I sho -"

"I want you to ask me questions, Soap. Especially if I am over stepping boundaries when it comes to your pack dynamic." You cut him off, catching his eyes so you could smile at him reassuringly. "If I do something that makes you uncomfortable, or over steps, I'd rather you tell me."

"Okay, so, why couldn't I be in the room?"

"Because your comfort is different than mine. You're his mate, which means you two have a bond and emotional connection that I don't. That lack of connection makes a lack of pressure. There's no worry that I won't care for him afterward, that I would leave him." You stop placing down bacon strips to look at Johnny.

"I know you would never do that to Simon." You assure him since you don't want him to feel attacked. "Simon knows that too, but sometimes there's no room for logic, just the fear you're feeling." You contine, slipping the tray into the oven and getting open your carton of eggs.

"Why do we all feel like puppies around you?" Was his next question after a few moments. Maybe your answer had been good enough.

"I'm not sure, actually. Among hybrids, I've heard that bunnies and wolves become friends like cheetahs and dogs." You offer, knowing that you probably could do some research about the topic laters.

"Cheetahs and dogs?" Johnny asks, head tilting curiously.

"Yeah, Cheetahs are really anxious animals, so they get paired with dogs when at zoos. The dogs soothe anxiety, and the cheetah would protect the dog if needed. That's kinda the same here. I give you soft, safe care that you wouldn't normally allow yourself, and you all keep me safe." You ramble, pouring your eggs into a hot pan.

"You're not even afraid of Ghost. How could we protect you?" Johnny teases, which makes you laugh and lets any tension that would've been in the kitchen fade away. "I'm sorry if I was so distant with you." He continues, his tail wagging when you give him a genuine smile.

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm here to help, which means giving you space when you need it." You reassure him as you started pulling out bread for toast. "Now, who likes toast and who doesn't? I'm going to need you to tell me what food everyone likes." You insist and now Johnny's tail was wagging almost full speed.

Talk about his pack? His mates? Gladly!

By the time you were plating breakfast, brewing coffee, and taking it to the dining room, you know that everyone likes medium rare stake except for Price who likes it rare. Kyle likes his cookies soft and basically unbaked, Simon did, too, but Price and Johnny love crunchy cookies. Spicy food was a no-go for everyone.

"Thank you for keeping me company while I cook, Soap. Can you get everyone down here for breakfast?" You ask, offering him a cooked piece of bacon as a treat for the morning. Johnny nods eagerly, nipping your fingers playfully as he took the bacon before dashing down the hall and out of sight.

Now, if you could find a pen and paper to write down everyone's preferences. Otherwise, you'd be constantly bothering Johnny for confirmation about one of them. Considering how much he lit up when talking about them, maybe the best way to bond with the scottish Wolfman was to talk about his mates with him.

You'd test that theory later, hearing the rushing footsteps of Kyle and Johnny racing each other to the dining room.

@Armycaratlover @herefor-tojis-tits @succulambb @thetastewassweeter @lilynotdilly @silas-aeiou @kneelforloki @graduallyskepticalvampire @littlethingsinlife @jayc515 @losingonline @redkarmakai @moonssuns @crackheadwithtoes @danielle143 @clear-your-mind-and-dream @noonespecial2347 @aldis-nuts @bbmgirll @luciferslastprettyboy @alphabetically-deranged @other-fandoms-reblogs @lynnieluvsu

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

helloo i’m not too sure if you accept req atm but i really wanted to req this specific angst oneshot idea i have.

Basically all of skz are together a games night with their partners. Then there’s a game where the members have to compete to see who can do the most number of squats while piggy backing their partners. Chan’s partner(reader) feels scared and sad because she’s on the curvier side and doesn’t want to make chan lose so she kinda detaches herself or ask him to carry another member instead since shes insecure about her weight. Chan doesn’t know that’s how she feels at first until he found her crying in the bathroom and basically reader opens up about how growing up she never really got to experience piggy back rides because she wasn’t as skinny as her friends so shes insecure that chan finds her too heavy. It could have a happy ending where they have a rematch and chan ends up doing the most despite reader thinking shes too heavy(?) or and ending you think best fits this scenario

thank you so much for the request!! I hope you enjoy :)!!!

The living room buzzed with laughter, crinkling chip bags, and loud music humming from the speakers. Game night at the dorm was in full swing - board games pushed aside in favor of chaotic couple challenges designed to test strength, trust, and most of all, the group's ability to keep a straight face.

You sat next to Chan on the couch, his arm casually slung behind you, your head nuzzled into the crook of his neck and shoulder- a spot

that was warm and familiar. He looked impossibly soft in his oversized hoodie, cheeks flushed from earlier rounds, and hair tossled in a way that looked like it could have been intentional, but was just the byproduct of a wrestling match with Felix. His laughter was contagious, and grounding as everyone joked around. And yet, you felt your stomach twist when Changbin announced the next game:

"Piggyback Squat Showdown!" He said excitedly, in his best announcers voice.

"Each member has to piggyback their partner and see who can do the most consecutive squats! Jisung will be the judge for form since his fiancée was on call."

"We love women in S.T.E.M. fields." Jisung says with a sassy snap of the hips, earning a chuckle from everyone. 

"And Innie will count the squats because our baby bread is still single." Changbin says with an and exaggerated sigh and clap of Jeongin's shoulder. He shook his head and pounded his fist to his heart, pointing at Jeongin and pounding a fist again with a solemn nod.

Jeongin rolled his eyes with a laugh.

The room cheered. Joking banter followed.

You stiffened.

Chan turned to you, eyes crinkled with excitement. "You ready to win this, baby?"

You forced a small smile. "Um... maybe you should pick someone else for this one?"

He blinked, surprised. "Huh? Why?"

You tried to keep your tone light. "I don't wanna make you lose. You could probably do more squats with someone lighter."

It was a joke. Sort of. But not really. Not at all.

Chan stared at you, a beat of silence stretching too long. "Are you being serious?"

You laughed nervously, brushing it off. "No, I mean, it's just a game. But uh...I just don't feel like it...l'm gonna grab a drink real quick. Maybe piggyback Ji." You stood up before he could ask more, waving Jisung over, and proposing the idea, which he immediately thought was great, jumping on Chan's back before your boyfriend could question anything about your sudden

nerves.

You didn't go to the kitchen to grab a drink.

The bathroom door clicked shut behind you, muffling the sounds of games and teasing.

Your breath shook. You locked the door and leaned over the sink, staring at your reflection.

You hadn't had a piggyback ride since you were a kid. Not a real one. Not one where you didn't worry if the person underneath you was struggling, even if they said they weren't.

Even with Chan - sweet, strong Chan who never made you feel less than beautiful - the tear never left. The worry that one day he'd see you like the world had always made you feel: too heavy.

You sat on the closed toilet lid, pulling your knees to your chest. The tears came before you could stop them.

A soft knock on the door broke the silence.

"..Baby?"

Chan.

Your heart lurched.

"Can I come in?"

You sniffed, voice cracking. "Just give me a minute."

A pause. Then, "Okay. I'll wait."

True to his word, he didn't leave.

A few minutes passed. You opened the door slowly, eyes red-rimmed. He was sitting on the floor against the wall, knees bent, phone untouched in his lap, as he fiddled with his hoodie strings.

He looked up immediately. "Hey," he whispered, standing. "Talk to me." He said, grabbing your arm gently. 

Your lips quivered. "You're gonna think it's dumb."

"Try me."

You stepped back inside and sat on the edge of the tub. "I've never really liked games like that.

Where you have to be picked up or carried. I never got piggyback rides growing up, not like my friends did. I've always the 'bigger one,' the ‘too heavy' one."

Chan's eyes softened, and he stepped in, closing the door behind him.

You continued, voice quieter now. "Even if people said they didn't mind, l'd see it in their eyes or voice- the strain, the awkwardness. I hated the way it made me feel. So when the game started, I panicked. I didn't want you to lose because of me. I didn't want everyone to laugh or...notice. I'm not a small girl Chris I'm..."

You wiped your cheek. "I know it's stupid. I just-"

"No, it's not." His voice was firm.

You looked up.

"It's not stupid," he repeated, kneeling in front of you. "If it makes you cry it's not stupid. I hate that you've been carrying that by yourself."

You shrugged, trying to laugh but failing. "I just didn't want you to feel embarrassed."

He frowned, reaching up to cup your cheek.

"Embarrassed? You think l'd ever be embarrassed to carry you?"

"Or like...be with me..." You admitted. 

"I don't know." Your voice broke. "Sometimes I wonder if you ever look at me and wish I looked more like...l don't know. Everyone else? Like logically I know you're not like that and I know that my weight doesn't define my beauty but how can I believe logic over my own feelings that l've dealt with my entire life like-" you swallowed, trying to wipe your face.

Silence.

Then Chan leaned forward and rested his chin on your thighs, looking up at you through his lashes.

"Look at me."

You hesitated. "Please."

Your eyes met his. Brown, warm, sincere.

"I love you exactly the way you are. Every curve, every inch, every part of you." He said quietly, trailing his hand up and down your arm, to your side, to your thigh.

"You're not too heavy. You're

not too much. You're mine and there's nothing about you l'd ever trade."

Your throat tightened.

"You could weigh a hundred more pounds, and I'd still carry you. Not just on my back, but through everything. Through life. Because that's what I want - you."

Tears welled again. You let out a shaky breath and finally melted into his arms.

——— 

Later that night, after everyone had gone home or crashed in the guest rooms, Chan texted you:

Come outside. Trust me. 

You slipped on your hoodie and stepped into the backyard. The porch light bathed the grass in a soft yellow glow. Chan was waiting, standing in the middle of the lawn, hoodie sleeves pushed up, sneakers laced.

You tilted your head. "What is this?"

He gave you a small smile. "Just us."

A folded towel sat on the grass, a speaker beside it playing some quiet instrumental.

He stepped toward you. "Let me try."

You hesitated. "Chan, you don't have to-"

"I know I don't have to. I want to." He turned and offered his back to you, crouching slightly. "Come on."

You climbed on slowly, and he steadied you like it was second nature. No comments. No jokes.

Just quiet, sure support.

Then he started squatting.

"One."

"Two."

"Three."

You buried your face in his shoulder, your arms holding him tighter.

"Four."

"Five."

You laughed quietly through a tear. "You're going to pull something."

He smiled, his voice a little breathless now.

"Even if ! happen to do, it'd be worth it."

He kept going. Ten. Fifteen. Twenty. Each one done with quiet confidence, no showmanship, just him proving - in his own way - that he never saw you the way you feared.

When he finally let you down, he kept you close, arms around your waist as you laid in the grass, forehead resting against yours.

"I hope you felt that," he said softly. "Because none of this," he gestured between you two. "Is ever about proving something to anyone else. Or caring one anyone else thinks. They're not you and they're not me, so they have no say or room to make any assumptions or judgements that are worthwhile.” You nodded, a tear slipping free. He caught it with his thumb.

"You're nothing other than mine." he murmured, his lips dusting against yours lightly.

"Okay?"

You nodded and when he kissed you - slow and warm - it put any other doubts or worries to rest.

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang @amarecerasus @softkisshyunjin @whoa-jo @meanergreener @rikibun @ayyonoona @shinywombatcrusade @y4yayael @skzstan12345 @mariteez @allys-reads @jazziwritesthings @skzstannie @yongbokkiesworld @kkkeopi @neverendingstay @moony-9 @minsungsthirdwheel @everlastingspring143 @staytinyarmy @leezanetheofficial @tr-mha-fan @bubbly-moon @night-storm7 @missmajdastark @axel-skz @rockstarkkami @emilyywhyy @lezleeferguson-120 @enhacolor @madirye062

////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

[karikitdemonrp]

Kari sniffled slightly, leaning into Inuyasha's hug. She felt safer when Inuyasha gently wrapped his arms around her. Sure it wasn't firm, but it still felt nice. "It's all so confusing." Kari muttered, voice soft and shivering. "I don't know where to start when it comes to my powers and then there's the fact that I'm kind of alone cuz there's no one else like me. I can't ask others for help with stuff that has to do with what I am... I'm here but..." She shivered looking down. "I have no idea what I'm doing..."

"None of us know what we're doing Kari." Kagome spoke up almost instantly when Kari finished speaking. "Life's complicated. It's full of ups and downs and unexpected turns and rug pulls. No one is ever fully sure of what to do, we just guess and hope for the best."

Kari's hair bristled a bit. "But! But that's stupid!" She called out. "If you make a wrong turn you could get really hurt or hurt someone you care about or--"

"That's life." Kagome interrupted Kari and shrugged, trying to keep the child from going down a mental spiral of awful thoughts. Kari puffed out her cheeks.

"This is frustrating." The child huffed and Kagome just chuckled and nodded.

"Also apart of being alive I guess." She sighed softly.

Kari huffed, relaxing a bit. "But... It's a neat thought that I could be so important... That I'm supposed to shake things up or whatever." The child hummed in thought. "But it also sounds like a lot, at least I'm not alone thought and I found a pretty cool pack to help me. Not just my own either." The child giggled a bit with a widening smile. "And it's nice to be cared about again I guess." Kari's cheeks gained a slight dusting of crimson.

"Aw, Kari's you're blushing!" Kagome cooed in glee, happy to see Kari was letting her protective walls crack a bit.

"AM NOT!" Kari snapped, her face growing more red. This only made Kagome chuckle a bit. When she composed herself she looked to Koga with a sigh, getting a bit more serious again.

"On the topic of packs. I'd like to ask you a huge favor, Koga." Kagome sighed. "If... If something happens and Kari needs to get to a safe place, could you take her in? Even if it's just to keep her safe for a bit. I doubt it'll happen, but I would like that reassurance. I know you say she's apart of your pack, but your pack isn't exactly here to know this nor can they say otherwise." She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose a bit with closed eyes.

"It's not gonna happen Kagome." Kari called out. "I promise."

"I'm just being prepared, just in case." The teen smiled softly and Kari shrugged, kind of confused but deciding to just continue eating her ramen. Kagome hummed. "If word gets out and a powerful demon or deity catches wind of Kari we need a fall back plan. Kari's still really young so having a fall plan can't hurt." She informed and Shippo looked up from his now empty bowl of ramen, slurping the last of the noodles.

"Wait, Kari doesn't know where Koga's pack is anyway." The fox boy said after swallowing his food.

"That's why, if Koga isn't here, I'll send you both. And if not I'll have a map or something drawn up for Kari. You can read maps, right?" Kagome looked to Kari, who nodded with a mouth full of the last bit of her ramen.

The child swallowed the food in her mouth then opened her mouth to speak, a bit of remen broth and some bits of noodle and vegies dotting her face around her mouth. "Yeh, I kinda know how to read a map." She shrugged and Kagome sighed softly, moving to hand Kari a napkin, which Kari used to wipe her face with a soft. "Thanks."

"That's good. I'll get to work on one later. But for now, we all deserve to rest and relax. We can talk later about our next destination and other more imitate plans." With that Kagome picked up the empty cups of instant ramen and put them in a bag, moving to ruffle Kari's hair. "Hey, everything'll be okay." The young priestess smiled and Kari nodded, her body relaxing a bit more but not fully. Kagome hummed then went to look over the supplies the group still had, now taking Koga into account while checking everything. Shippo went with Kagome, wanting to provide a light source with his fox fire.

Kari just stayed in Inuyasha's arms, not wanting to leave the comfort of his embrace yet. She needed time to fully process and the feeling of protection was helping her not lose her mind in an overthinking frenzy. She held her plushies close to her chest, moving to nuzzle her face into them and letting out a heavy sigh while recalling everyone's encouraging words. She relaxed as best as she could and just stayed there, nuzzling into Inuyasha's chest a bit while hiding her face in her plushies.

Inuyasha was quiet for a moment, slurping his ramen while watching Kari out of the corner of his eye. She was trying to stay strong, that much was obvious. The way she clutched her plushies tighter, the way her voice cracked—but she was still trying. He respected that. A lot more than he could ever say out loud.

After Kagome’s answer hit the air and things went still, Inuyasha set his cup down with a soft thud and sighed.

“Tch… Figures,” he muttered. “World’s always been afraid of stuff it doesn’t understand.” He looked down at Kari, his amber eyes more serious now.

“You’re not supposed to exist?” Inu scoffed. “Neither was I, according to a lot of people. And they treated me like it too. But screw that.” His tone wasn’t angry—just blunt. Honest. “You’re here. That’s what matters. And if anyone’s got a problem with that, they’ll have to deal with me.”

He gently nudged Kari’s head with his chin. “You’re strong. Stronger than I was at your age. So yeah, things are gonna be different—but you’re not facing ‘em alone. Got that?”

Koga had stayed quiet during most of the talk, chewing through his beef ramen with uncharacteristic patience. But when the truth about Kari’s origins was laid out—the executions, the miracle of her existence—his face darkened.

“…Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

Then louder, and more direct: “Listen. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. You’re in danger now—and probably will be for a long time. But you’ve got claws now, both figuratively and literally. You’ve got your instincts, your powers, and a pack that’s gonna stand behind you.”

He jabbed a thumb toward himself. “And yeah, I’m including my pack too. Whether you’re a runt or not.” Then, after a short pause, his voice softened just slightly—not by much, but enough to tell he was serious.

“You’re not some mistake, kid. You’re rare. Maybe even meant to shake things up a bit. People like that? They make history. And they never do it alone.”

Inuyasha crossed his arms. “Tch. I hate agreeing with wolf-boy, but…” He glanced down at Kari again. “He’s right.” He leaned back slightly against the wall of the hut, arms loosely wrapped around Kari and her bundle of plushies.

“You’ve got people who care about you now. Who’ll fight for you. Who already have. So eat your ramen, hold onto those weird plush things, and stop thinkin’ you gotta carry all this by yourself.”

Koga grinned. “And if anyone tries to come for you, they’ll find out real quick what happens when you mess with a kid who’s got two packs watching her back.”

Inuyasha rolled his eyes “Hey wolf boy. Don’t lump yourself in with us like it’s a favor.”

Koga grinned even wider. “Hey, she already said I’m part of her pack. Just bein’ respectful.”