#//it was either this or him drawing under an umbrella

[the-monkeies-girl]

Bitter Sweet. ( Five x Reader Oneshot. )

i have no explanation other than my babies are still alive and that season 4 never happened SEASON 4 NEVER HAPPENED---- Give me snarky, asshole, pragmatic five back before i die. Reblogs/likes/comments all appreciated, thank u.

Title: Bitter Sweet. Fandom: The Umbrella Academy. Pairing: Heavily Implied ! Five x Reader. Rating: T. ( Language, lol. ) Words: 1.2K+ Summary: ( Taking place in an AU after season 4, let me live in my fantasy that's what fanfics are FOR ). You knew how specific Five was about his coffee. You knew he would speak his mind regarding and it was too much fun to let go of.

════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ ════ 

Four cubes. 

No, no… Five felt his mouth part in astonishment, crystal clear green eyes peering in languid judgment as your plucked another sugar cube from a pristine porcelain bowl and plopped it right into the white coffee cup that was placed in front of you. It sploshed happily, absorbing the coffee and sweetening the deal for you to enjoy, but that was never the point in the grand scheme. You were ardently aware of how irritating it was, one cube after another. The quantity itself was deliberate and you knew… How you were able to feel his stare hell-bending holes into your face. He was unable to see the liquid despite trying with a narrow gaze but he was willing to bargain much of what he owned that it was pale in color, not even teetering towards tan but more towards plain white.

 A grimace was noticed by Klaus who bargained a chuckle as he looked towards you, seated beside him with raised eyebrows of acute amusement, “You’re desecrating whatever coffee you had, I think Five is going to lunge across the table and take you by the neck---” “Five can shove it.” The innocence that rode against your face was evident as the Hargreeves man  across from you scoffed under his breath at the juxtaposed expression coupled with the aggressive nature of your words. “It’s my cup, not his. We can’t all drink it b---”

“Black like my soul, right?” Five rolled his eyes, shoulders drawing themselves in some minor defense and you were able to see the tightness of which he held himself from the tailored nature of his suit. Five was lanky and skinny, but that didn't seek to say that he was without defined muscles against his sweeping collarbones and it was evident in certain motions that left you reeling back from the hardened words that he responded with.

“Get some original insults, (Name). You’re becoming way too predictable. Boring even---” His voice was incredulous, sticking towards monotonous but still held irate interest in speaking to you, only detectable around the edges and it sang against your ears. 

Flirtatious only to you, aggressive and leaned with hatred to others. A game of cat and mouse, though at times, you were unsure of which one you were playing. “I was going to say bitter just like your personality, but you know me. Predictable.” Klaus held a defensive hand up, grasping at his own cup and pretending he was beckoned elsewhere to avoid the confrontation that was inevitable coming in the way that Five cleared his throat, a hand raising and tightening the bundle of fabric where his tie rested against his throat. 

He straightened it, you noticed with acute mirth, but there was no need to. It was already perfectly placed, part of the morning ritual you imagined he held close to his chest after spending so long cultivating it. Five was… A creature of habit, to many extents. Needless to say, it was one of those simple actions that you enjoyed seeing none-the-less, fingers twitching in a finite need to deshevel the pin-black tie to further push the boundary of where you and Five so often tightroped. No solace was given to either party as his knuckles rubbed against the underside of his sharpened jaw. There was hostility tangling in with notes of attractive coyness as he snapped at you, “You’re a goddamn monster, you know that? Fuck---” “I’m not the one getting angry over how someone else makes their coffee.” You bit back without reserve and another sickly smile placed towards the brunette as you finally picked up your spoon and allowed it to sink into the cup. It scraped -- Horrid, Five felt a shiver run down his spine at the vibrations he could feel against the oak table from your simple movement. Like nails against a chalkboard. 

“Can you even call that coffee?” Five spliced and looked down at his own mug, half-emptied and his saliva still coating and drying where he had last taken a drink against the curve. “Did ya even put any in there? Any beans? Any espresso?” “There’s some in here.” There was a justification with a faux pout which Five remarked as being feverishly unfair. You were good at playing expressions, he was good at playing words. “I think….” You mused and lifted your cup up to your mouth and kissed the rim. Five swallowed hard, his Adam’s Apple bobbing which was feasted upon by your eyes before you took a long sip. Control rested in your hands as you refused to let him look away from you. 

Five sneered, your eyes taking in the delectations of seeing his sharpened canines. “You’re going to lose all your teeth from all the shit you put in that. Creamer and then what? Five sugar cubes? Are you a horse? Want me to feed you them straight from my hand?” There was a rustling sound as Five leaned inwards, his suit jacket pulling up with the motion that was placed as he so graciously plucked a sugar cube from the bowl that had been nearly emptied by you and offered it in the palm of his hand. “C’mon, take it. Be a good little horse.” “”Ha-ha,” You laughed sarcastically, smacking his gesture away which sent the cube flying off to be cleaned up later. “I’ll bite your fingers clean off.” “Not if you don’t have any fucking teeth! I kind of hope you do lose them. Hell, take me to the dentist when you get them pulled, I’ll bring them home and make a necklace for you.”

“You DIY things, Five?” There was another laugh from you as you took a sip of your drink, “Never pegged you to be that crafty.” There was emphasis on the word ‘pegged’, Five catching hold of the implication which garnered you that shit-eating grin that was more than infamous at this point. “Just this once.” He smirked, giving you a dimpled smile of feigned innocence to rival the one you splayed for him earlier. Sitting up in his seat, it scooted against the floor below with a loud bellow and you watched with bated astonishment as he leaned against the table to bring his upper half closer to you. Face only inches apart now, you refused to relent eye contact with him and tried to desperately shove down the connotation that you were able to clearly smell the after-shave that he favored. Pinely in scent, you wanted to grasp at his chin and feel the stubble against your fingers but that wasn’t the point here. The point was to be the cat while Five was forced to be the mouse.

“Just for you, a nice necklace and some earrings. Bracelet, maybe? A matching set. You'd look like such a doll."

“I’ll wear the set to your funeral. Clutch them instead of my pearls as I sob, telling everyone what a wonderful ray of sunshine you were to be around before you so tragically died.”

“Is that a date?” 

Five huffed at you as you stood from your seat, his gawk watching the movement with hostility as you craned your body towards him and grasped the base of his tie. Enlightened with curiosity, the disgusting smile of attraction rose along his cheeks, quickly torn to shreds as you pulled the tie downwards, the knot coming undone without reserve. 

“With you six feet under? You bet your damn ass it is.”

[gravity-barbie]

There's only one bed HCs

Featuring: Luther, Diego, Allison, Klaus, Viktor, Lila, Sparrow!Ben & Sloane

A/N: This isn’t a request, I just had to post the fluffiest prompt I could after s4. Also, the umbrella’s characterisation in this is very s1 inspired.

Masterlist

Luther Hargreeves

-Luther is immediately very flustered, you’d think he just stumbled out of the middle ages with how concerned about propriety he is in this situation, and he can barely form a coherent sentence

-He offers to take the floor, but if you do the same and/or insist on sharing he’ll quickly compromise on the latter if for no other reason than not wanting to disagree with you, but that decision has his heart racing a mile a minute

-He feels very self-conscious about taking up most of the bed, so any reassurance from you that you’re comfortable, or better yet, like his closeness absolutely melts him

-He stays half awake all night, too afraid of doing something embarrassing in his sleep to get any proper rest, but his contentment to just enjoy your nearness still makes it one of the best nights of his life

-Since he was already awake (and he’s a total sweetheart) he gets up early to scavenge you two up a breakfast in the morning, enjoying this slice of domesticity with you a little longer

Diego Hargreeves

-Diego says he’ll take the floor, but if you even slightly question that choice he gets embarrassed and defensive, suggesting you two share the bed just to prove that he ‘doesn’t care’

-Obviously he does care, outwardly he keeps his cool, but on the inside he’s swarming with butterflies like he’s a teenager

-As much as he tries to appear aloof, he’s actually being so considerate, checking if you’re comfortable more than once and making sure he isn’t touching you at all

-He’s not the easiest sleeper, tense and alert, and at first lying next to his crush doesn’t exactly help, but as the two of you talk and banter a little, the tension starts to defuse and he actually finds your presence very soothing

-He’s the type to get cuddly in his sleep, much to his shame and annoyance in the morning, he doesn’t let himself enjoy the amazing feeling of holding you in his arms for even a full minute before he’s scrambling back to his side of the bed and pretending to be asleep

Allison Hargreeves

-Allison can be a grown up about this, there’s only one bed, why wouldn’t you share it? She’s not indifferent but she doesn’t overanalyse the situation either

-She gladly embraces the domesticity of the scenario though, drawing out her nightly routine, and getting chattier than usual, trying to savor this experience that she’s wanted for so long

-She’s also trying to make sure you feel at ease too, figuring if you do feel awkward, that’ll fade as the two of you talk and unwind

-She is prone to nightmares, so don’t be surprised if you’re startled awake in the middle of the night and put in the unenviable position of trying to ease her, but she for one is very glad that it’s you she wakes up to

-Speaking of waking up, sunrise is the peak of this experience for her, feeling yours and her tangled limbs, seeing how peaceful you look while you sleep, it's the kind of moment she understands the importance of cherishing

Klaus Hargreeves

-Klaus suggests sharing, he’s slept under way more awkward circumstances next to people he’s felt way more uncomfortable around, it’s really no big deal

-He has to remind himself to keep his thoughts PG a couple of times and can’t get through the night without making at least one innuendo but overall he is respectful and won't likely make you uncomfortable

-Though he can keep his thoughts clean it's harder to keep them platonic, the longing he feels being so close to you is nearly overwhelming and he wishes so badly that the context was different

-With you by his side he sleeps more peacefully than he has in… ever, it actually kind of amazes him

-He's in no rush to leave your side in the morning, the sleep clouding his brain making him all too willing to forget his reservations and cuddle up to you for as long as you'll have him

Viktor Hargreeves

-Ever the gentleman, Viktor immediately offers to take the floor, but he feels quite heart-warmed by you insisting on sharing

-Even platonically the intimacy of sharing a bed means so much to someone as affectionate starved as him, but with the added context of you being his crush this experience feels like a mini miracle

-He's pretty nervous though, triple checking that you're okay with this and minimizing his own space as much as possible when he gets into bed

-He relaxes with some reassurance and the two of you quickly get comfortable, starting up a random conversation that's meant to segway into sleep but could keep you talking all night if you're not careful

-As opposed to the anxious start to the night, waking up next to each other feels like the most natural thing in the world

Lila Pitts

-Lila's thrilled, she doesn’t immediately suggest sharing but she makes it clear she’s not sleeping on the floor and is all too happy to accommodate you if you won't either

-If you do try to give her the bed and take the floor though she stops playing coy and basically tells you to grow up and share with her, insisting it’s no big deal

-But to her it is a big deal, honestly she can't believe she didn't plan this herself it's that perfect, she can barely fight back an unending smile

-Though keeping things sfw she does lay the flirting on thicker than usual and pays close attention to how you react to that and the situation you're in throughout the night

-As bold as she is she isn't actually used to this kind of closeness and the intimacy of sleeping next to her crush does start making her slightly nervous, but luckily your presence has a way of making her feel better

Ben Hargreeves

-Ben’s not exactly a go with the flow type, if you’re put in a position where there’s meant to be two beds and there’s only one, he’s gonna try to get his other bed

-Ands it’s only after all his demands fall on deaf ears that he even registers the implications of sharing the one, nervousness quickly sets in but he tries not to show it, avoiding looking at you and giving his usual sass

-He does offer you the bed, sounding more begrudging than he actually is, it’s actually his preferred solution, cause as spoiled as he acts he could never sleep comfortably at your expense

-But of course you insist on sharing and as soon as he’s laying next to you, he confirms what a bad idea this was, he’s just as flustered as he feared he would be, maybe more so

-He pretends to fall asleep as soon as possible so you won’t catch on to how he’s feeling, but actually he’s awake and on edge for hours

Sloane Hargreeves

-Sloane has encountered this scenario in more than one romance novel before, so her brain just goes wild with the possibilities

-You’re the one to suggest sharing the bed, and it absolutely melts her heart, it's sweet and it's a relief to know you're comfortable being this close to her

-She always has a hard time hiding her crush on you, but she’s never been so flustered before, the butterflies in her stomach verge on painful

-But she's also giddy and her contagious enthusiasm guarantees the two of you will have a good night, your energy is half 'slumber party' and half 'married couple's nightly routine'

-The experience is wonderful for not just Sloane but you as well, because even if you didn't have a crush on her before, spending a night with her surely makes you realize you want to spend many more with her

[crows-in-the-house]

Envy

summary: hc's for Bill being jealous and doing awful things to everyone around you

pairing: yan! jealous!Bill Cipher x gn!reader

tw: toxic behaviours, mention of sex (at the end), death of a pet

his actions would be dependent on how much you spend time with either him or them - whoever "they" are. A pet? How cute, how silly, oops it's dead! What? It would die in a year anyway, stop making a fuss.

do you have a pack of friends? He wants to meet them! Let's see what kind of worthless scums try to take your attention from him!

a partner??? Do you know how much those things take from yours his time? You should break up with them this instant! Chop chop kid we have galaxies to overthrow!

at first he would be delicate, testing the ground and just manipulating you into spending more time with him. Maybe he would start adding some praise here and there, maybe doing actual nice things, like creating an (actually edible) meal out of thin air, or stopping the rain when you don't have an umbrella on you

just for you kid, just for you

soon it wouldn't be enough tho. He would start possesing you - promising he needs only twenty minutes and won't harm your body. Why not, what could go wrong?

this way he would "meet up" with your friends. At first he would just break in to their hauses and watch them sleep, wondering what do you see in them. What alse would you possibly need that he can't offer?

he would start reading their diaries, sometimes destroying the pages in the fit of rage at a mere mention of you. (The same would happen with their minds, if he would notice them dreaming about you)

would put ropes and knifes everywhere, break every lightbulb, draw triangles and ominous runes that somehow make their insides itchy. Maybe he would switch their salt with sugar. Or arsenic, who knows.

what would happen if all of that wouldn't work? That you still hang out and are even closer? That you start suspect Bill has been doing something suspicious lately? He would move to a different tactic of course.

also would tie them in their closets and set their homes on fire

it would be making you intruduce him to all your friends. He would make you sing praises of him and all his good deeds. After all, he's your inspiration, companion, best friend, your everything! Why not spend time with your other friends and "loved ones" together?

(he would not acknowladge your partner as gf/bf, no, it's just "that other mammal", but what's wrong with that, Bill is just Bill, he calls people stupid names all of the time!)

oh how cute you are, not noticing how uncomfortable all of those meatbags are. You just adore him, right?

every time you'd leave the room he would start gushing about you two spending time together. He would imply you prefering him, loving spending time with together, laughing and doing interesting stuff alone, just the two of you, kinda like a pair.

he would make gross remarks about their appereances, getting right into their insecurities. But why would that matter? They are not good enough anyway!

he would also posses you during sex making you moan his name instead of your partners. But don't act so fussy! It was just a joke!

if he would want to especially get under your partners skin (not litterally this time) he would gush about you hugging and kissing him every day. In reality it's just him squizing and licking you but tbh he doesn't see the difference

he would destroy all your matching clothes and accesoriess, no matter if it was with your friends, family or partner. It could be some 6 year old ex memrabilia, he doesn't care, it goes to the fire when he finds it, the only one you can match with is your lord and saviour Bill Cipher!

but don't think he would be only cruel! He would always whisper you just the sweet nothings when you're tauching yourself! Oh come on, just go on and stop telling him to leave, he needs to study human anatomy!

over all, this guy would be possesive and cruel not only to you, but also everything in your proximity

[musubi-sama]

Rainy Day Dropoff

How some of our favorite JJK men would handle a little downpour and getting your toddler off to daycare.

A/N: The bike in question is in the header image, a standard mamachari. The kid seat sits over the front forks, they're really easy to ride and control, especially if you have a battery-powered one. I love mine. I also deeply abhor morning drop-off when it's raining. Pickup is fun because puddles and playtime!

WC: 844

The morning drop-off, a routine you and your toddler have down to a science, a well-oiled machine. You leave the house at the same time every day, say “bye bye, papa!” and the two of you toddle over to your mamachari. It’s a nice ride through the neighborhood over to daycare. Peaceful, quiet, a lovely time to teach your child about what they see and listen to their adorable attempts to repeat your words.

But this morning, it’s pouring rain with no signs of stopping. You steel yourself for the wet trip there and back, knowing that despite a rain poncho, a hat, and hood, you always come back giving your best drenched cat impression.

Ah, but your dear husband has heard your grumbling and decided to handle the drop off today.

Nanami Kento - Kento wakes up first and sees the weather. Immediately, he adjusted his morning routine to get both him and your toddler out the door and into both daycare and work successfully and on time. He doesn’t often do drop-offs, but he knows how much you hate going out in the rain. Pulling out his waterproof hiking and rain boots, he sits by the door, and you watch little hands grab the tops of his boots as he tugs them on with exaggerated effort. You help both put their raincoats and helmets on (most adults eschew a helmet, but not your husband!) and see them out the door.

Kento quickly gets everyone situated on the bike under the parking space cover and sets off cautiously. Once at daycare, he sits your toddler on the spacious porch and runs back to zip up the rain cover on the bike seat, ensuring it stays dry for pickup in the afternoon. Luckily, your usually energetic toddler stays put under the overhang instead of bolting off. Dropoff is quick, everyone stays dry, and no accidental wet feet after taking off their boots and storing for the afternoon return trip.

Suguru Geto - Suguru checked the weather in advance and set his alarm slightly early to make sure he could get the bike moved over to a dry spot closer to the front door of the apartment building. Once everyone is out the door, he grabs an extra umbrella to provide extra coverage. Not a drop on either him nor your toddler as he gets them situated in their seat and the rain cover zipped down. He makes sure to draw a little flower in the fog forming on the plastic window. Hitting every puddle just to pull laughs from your toddler along the short journey.

Pulling out the extra umbrella at daycare, again a quick and dry transfer into the daycare. He repeats the routine at pickup and even brings a set of rain pants to let the little one splash around and remain dry before returning home.

Satoru Gojo - Satoru sees the rain and calls Ijichi to drive you and your toddler into daycare. On a normal, dry day he doesn’t mind you biking the kids in. Even though everyone else arrives by car, you insisted that you use your mamachari. It’s a gentle exercise, the view is stunning (especially in the spring while riding along the sakura-lined river), and the two of you strike up adorable conversations about what you each see. But in this weather, you easily relent and hop in the car.

Hiromi Higuruma - Your dear Hiromi has the best of intentions, both in boots, but oops the jacket is forgotten because it’s warm outside. The bike is parked under cover, sure, but there’s a hole in the roof drainage right next to the bike, exactly in the spot he needs to stand in to put your toddler in their seat. While the ride is quick, his poncho hood flies off his head immediately, the wind buffeting you both. And despite his best efforts, he hit a few puddles along the way. At least someone finds them fun.

Once he arrives, he quickly grabs the bag of clothes and daily supplies and reaches into the seat, picking up the almost-2-year-old. As soon as he places them standing on the ground he hears-

“Papa, shoe! Papa, shoe!”

“Shit, ah fuck, I mean, sorry!” failing to control his language knowing that that little toddler brain will absolutely pick up on those words and use it later. He looks down to see a little one-footed hop and a missing boot. Ah ha, it was in the bike seat. Quickly, but not fast enough, he manages to stuff the little, wet, foot back into the boot.

He picks up the bag and toddler and jogs over to the front patio at daycare. Shedding his poncho and punching in the door code, he sits your toddler down to take off boots and socks. And then he notices how wet the front of your toddler’s clothes is. Right, wet poncho. After handing them off to the staff, he just gives a lopsided smile as they look over the wet patches on the toddler, running to see their friends.

[michibap]

schlatt w/ a heliophile gf

-big grumpy boyfriend slathered in sunscreen and pouting under the shade of an umbrella while his goddess gf basks in the sun a few feet away from him

-finding you napping in sun spots on the floor, contentedly lounging on the warmed carpet with the cats

-tanlinestanlinestanlinestanlinesAtansiwndosnKDNXOWNZ

-shit has him acting different

-something very tasteful about a slutty lil tan line peaking out from under a baggy sweatshirt or low hanging sweats

-will buy you clothes that show them off

-or catch himself absentmindedly running his thumb over the line between your two different shades of skin

-sometimes he worries that you’ll actually bake alive if he lets you rot out in the sun all day

-he’ll come outside to where you’re comfortably laying on a lounge chair, placing a large hand on the top of your head to get your attention

-and pulling it back with a yelp when he feels how HOT the top of your head has gotten

-he’ll either throw you in the pool or drag you back into the air conditioned house to cool you off, playfully rolling his eyes and offering to warm you up while you whine about how cold it is

-in the winter he’ll take you to vacation somewhere warm, feeling guilty after finding you sitting in the window, soaking up what little sun you could during the colder months

-jokes about your almost inhuman draw to the heat, has theories that you're a reptilian or some type of photosynthetic creature from outer space

-or maybe a solar powered robot sent by the government to keep tabs on him

[prythianpages]

Umbrella | Lucien

summary: You hated rainy days. That is, until, you forgot your umbrella and a handsome stranger became your savior.

word count: 1,660

warnings: none (just rain and fluff)

a/n: did I sing Rihanna's Umbrella a lot while writing this? Absolutely! This is actually a recycled old fanfic of mine since I'm currently in a small writing slump and I thought Lucien fit this best. Hopefully y'all find this a bit cute as I did when first writing it.

You saw the dark clouds ominously forming over Velaris as you got ready for work. Your stubborn mind refused to acknowledge the threat of rain. The past few days had been filled with similar warnings, but the clouds had delivered nothing more than a gloomy sky. Even when you finally stepped out of your apartment and felt light droplets kiss your cheeks, you refused to go back to your place for your umbrella.

It’s not going to rain, it’s not going to rain. You repeated in your head as if the more you said it, the more truth it would hold. Nonetheless, your pace quickens, determined to get to your job as soon as possible. It was only a few blocks away, no more than a fifteen minute walk.

But, as always, fate had other plans.

The smell of impending rain was thick in the air and you cursed your stubbornness for not going back for your umbrella. It was too late now. The light drizzle turned into a downpour, heavy raindrops pelting down with increasing intensity. There was no time to seek cover, you had to press on. It was either the sky’s wrath or your boss’s and your body shudders at the thought of the latter.

I hate the rain, I hate the rain.

"Mother’s tits," you curse under your breath, squinting against the onslaught of rain as you shield your eyes with a hand. To your dismay, a grand carriage and a parade of horses blocks your path, moving leisurely along the street and obstructing your way to the next block.

You didn’t notice the tall shadow looming over you until you felt something change.

Your hand drops to your side as you straighten up. What happened to the rain? As you glance forward, you realize the rain was still there but…

“I thought you needed a savior.” 

You jump back, startled by the male who is now standing beside you. The cold rain striking your face snaps you out of your daze yet you feel a rush of warmth as your eyes take in your savior. He possesses an entrancing beauty, so striking that for a moment you wonder if you had been hit by the carriage and were now being guided to the afterlife by this angelic figure.

He extends the umbrella out toward you, offering you solace once more. Despite the relentless downpour, he seems unbothered by the rain, and you can't help but watch as a single droplet traces the jagged scar running down one side of his face. His fiery red hair begins to cling to his forehead. He clears his throat, drawing your gaze back to his.

“Sorry,” you apologize, realizing you had been blatantly staring.

He smiles at you, his eyes alight with a hint of amusement. It’s then you notice the captivating contrast between his eyes: one a gleaming gold, mechanical and the other a warm russet, both piercing through the gloom.

Sheepishly peeling your gaze away from his mesmerizing eyes, you look up at the umbrella. It’s a vibrant red, matching the exact shade of his hair. The color stands out vividly against the gray backdrop of the rainy day like a beacon of warmth and protection.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, gently pushing the umbrella back toward him.

“There’s enough room for both of us,” he insists, his voice smooth and reassuring.

The umbrella was indeed wide enough for two people to fit under. Although you’d still get a bit wet with the rain showing no mercy, it was better than nothing.

“Are you sure?” You shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling a mix of nervousness and gratitude. “I don’t want to be a burden, especially not to a complete stranger.”

“Lucien Vanserra. Emissary to the Night Court by day and a secret admirer of Velaris’s stars by night,” he says with a playful grin. “Hmm, what else? My favorite color is yellow. I like to read in my spare time.”

His introduction catches you off guard and you can’t help but smile. “Your turn,” Lucien prompts, his eye twinkling with curiosity.

“Y/N. No cool role in this court, unless you count baking Velaris’s best pastries… but that might change if I don’t make it to the shop within the next five minutes.”

His eyes widen with recognition and delight. “Those pumpkin cream cheese muffins have me in a chokehold. Believe it or not, I was actually headed that way. So now that we’re not complete strangers…allow me?”

Lucien offers you his arm, and after a moment’s hesitation, you surprisingly take it, hooking your own arm through his. Butterflies dance in your stomach as he pulls you close to allow the umbrella to cover you both. The traffic that had stalled you earlier is now clear.

 Not wasting any more time, the two of you walk together under the safety of his umbrella with hurried footsteps. The rain continues to fall around you and you lean in closer. His warmth seeps into you, offering comfort against the chill of the rain.

“So, you didn’t tell me your favorite color…” Lucien says, just loud enough for you to hear over the rain.

“Red!” You exclaim with a grin.

**

One of your biggest regrets in life stemmed from that day.

Arriving a few minutes late at the bakery, you faced your boss's ire. There was a big batch of cupcakes, urgently needing to be decorated for a catering event later that evening. She greeted you grumpily, tossing a fresh set of clothes your way from the stash kept for inevitable mishaps. 

Yet, her mood shifted entirely upon seeing the male standing beside you.

Needless to say, Lucien saved you in more ways than one that day.

You managed to persuade your boss to let him choose a couple of pastries for free and snuck in an extra pumpkin muffin when she wasn't looking. However, amidst the morning rush of customers, you hadn’t noticed when he slipped away from the bakery.

While you learned more about him during your rushed walk, there was one detail you missed. How to reach out to him. It left you with regret for not inviting him for a coffee (as a gesture of gratitude, of course.)

You sigh as you step out of your apartment. Thankfully, you have the afternoon shift today. It allowed you to sleep in a bit longer, but luck had not spared you from the city's recent capricious weather.

“It was sunny just ten minutes ago!” you huff, glaring up at the sky as if to scold it.

As if in response to your glare, the sky darkens ominously. Before long, rain pours down on you, leaving you stranded without an umbrella. Again. You let out a small groan.

“Crazy, isn’t it?” A familiar voice chimes in.

“By the Cauldron,” you gasp, startled by the presence right beside you. “You really need to stop appearing out of nowhere.”

“Then how else am I supposed to save you?” Lucien teases, moving closer so that his umbrella also shields you from the rain.

You hadn’t found the courage to ask him out that day either, but you had learned that when Lucien wasn't away on emissary business, he lived in the building right next to yours.

**

As you get ready to close up the bakery, you spare a glance toward the window. A frown settles on your face. It seemed that Velaris was in for even more rain, despite the newspaper claiming otherwise. Fortunately, you had shoved your boring gray umbrella into your bag before work. You were prepared this time because surely with your luck, Lucien wouldn’t be there to save you a third time.

You made sure to pack the leftover pasties into your bag before shutting everything off. As you lock the door, the sky darkens and the faint sound of thunder echoes throughout the city. In the blink of an eye, the rain comes down, pouring quickly and relentlessly. Too quick for you to shift the bags in your arms and reach for your umbrella.

“Forgot yours again?”

“Mother above!”

“Unfortunately, no. Just Lucien.” The red haired male chuckles. His intentions were never to scare you but he found it quite amusing and cute. “I saw the gray clouds and figured you’d need me. Come,” he says, gesturing for you to inch closer to him 

“How did you know I was working today?” 

“I didn’t.”

A sheepish smile spreads across his features and a faint blush colors his cheek. You swear there’s a subtle glow about him, his fiery red hair and eyes gleaming despite the overcast sky. He’s like a ray of sunshine.

“Well, aren’t you a lucky male?” You tease, feeling a rush of warmth at his presence.

“I’d be luckier if you joined me for a late afternoon coffee.” Now it’s you who is blushing and you’re grateful for the way he turns his head, tilting it slightly to the left.  “There’s a place only a block away.”

“Only if you let me pay,” you manage to say and when he opens his mouth to protest, you beat him to it. “As a thank you,” you insist, nudging his shoulder playfully with yours. “For your umbrella services.”

Lucien laughs, his smile widening. He offers you his arm like he has the previous two times. This time, you take it without hesitation, feeling a rush of excitement at the closeness between you. As he guides you both through the rain-soaked streets of Velaris, you lean into him even further. He’s always soothingly warm. He doesn’t seem to mind that you’re closer to him than usual.

As the sky continues to pour down, the umbrella in your bag seems to quietly smile, and you can’t help but develop a newfound fondness for the rain.

It has, after all, brought you closer to Lucien.

For the sake of this fic, reader can't winnow and let's just say Lucien didn't winnow you to your job because he wanted to get to know you more (:

General tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria @the-sweet-psycho

@daycourtofficial, @milswrites, @stormhearty, @pit-and-the-pen, @mybestfriendmademe

@loving-and-dreaming

[mitschki]

having feelings for you

neuvillette

neuvillette was renowned for his fierceness, a reputation he lived up to in fontaine. formal and resolute, he was inclined to politely decline any attempts at close connections. it was not that he harbored ill will towards anyone, he’d even offer a simple smile during brief conversations. deep down, neuvillette knew he struggled to admit his fear.

but you? oh how swiftly his perception shifts. maybe neuvillette believed these feelings emerged knowing there was nothing else significant to occupy his thoughts or conversations beside his work in fontaine.

or perhaps he was merely in denial about his feelings towards you. he would discreetly steal glances at you, but always careful not to make you uncomfortable in any way.

he definitely would not declare his love for you outright, but he wouldn't dismiss the idea either. there was something profoundly fulfilling about being the one to care for you both throughout your lives. he found simple joy in observing your interactions with the melusines, and being a listener to their stories about you brought a sense of warmth to his heart.

it was a welcome change to his routine, something he would always anticipate.

drowned in his paperwork, neuvillette could hardly step out of his office. it wasn't a bother, but solely a routine he accepted as part of his existence. or was it? judging by the perpetual heavy clouds and rain that seemed to follow him. yet the thought of stepping outside into the sunlight, and seeing you, filled him with longing. he wouldn’t dismiss these imaginations, often finding himself smiling at the mere thought.

he had finally found a moment to step outside, but was rather met with a heavy rain. observing the citizens scrambling for cover, his frown deepened. the relentless rain hadn’t ceased since last week. amidst the downpour, neuvillette spotted you on the street struggling to open your umbrella.

your eyes widen as you feel an umbrella hovering above your head, shielding you from the rain. glancing behind you, you see neuvillette. casting you a soft glare as he stands soaked under the downpour, holding the umbrella to protect you. you gasp, "monsieur!"

you grab the shaft of the umbrella, your fingers brushing against his gloved hand. drawing yourself closer to him in an attempt to cover both of you from the rain. your bodies lean in, practically touching as you look up at him with a nervous grin.

"i apologize, monsieur. for troubling you like this." you glance up at him as he smiles softly.

"it is never a trouble to concern myself over your well-being.” he retorts, furrowing his brow as he hears you laugh. he pauses, realizing he doesn't mind at all. in fact, you looked so pretty. with the two of you sharing the umbrella, both soaked from the rain and you genuinely laughing. what more could he wish for in this specific moment?

"what is so amusing?" he questions, raising his brow.

"forgive me, monsieur.. i simply never expected this situation.” your laughter fading as you look up at him with a grin as he feels a blush creeping onto his face.

"well, would you have preferred it any other way?”

“definitely not.”

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 6: SOME SORT OF SICK, SELF-INFLICTED SCHADENFREUDE 

synopsis: amanda confronts connor about his growing attachments. hank is found near-dead on his kitchen floor and brings about conversations that drudge up bad memories.

word count: 3.2k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: i promise i have a life i just have nothing to do. so double update. possibly triple if i don't crash and take a six hour nap

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

Connor’s mind palace was, for once, a little turbulent. Usually, it was sunny skies and pleasant, not-too-balmy warmth, but today, it’s raining. Not a torrential downpour, but not a light drizzle, either. 

He looks down and sees a closed umbrella in his hand. The rain doesn’t bother him, nor does the wet permeating his clothes. 

Instead of opening it, he starts walking along the marble that makes up the main path. His dress shoes don’t slip on the puddles that collect on it. Droplets of water collect in his hair and run down the apples of his cheeks to drip off his jaw. 

The strange stone glows before him, its reason for existing ever evading him. He kneels and reaches towards it, his skin peeling back in an automatic response. His hand just barely touches it, and it responds with a thrum of energy, as if alive.

He stands and takes a step back, heaving an artificial and unneeded breath. He turns his back on it and continues walking on the path.

Connor comes to a stop before Amanda, who is adorned in whites, greys, and a soft yellow. The bracelets that cover her forearms and the necklace that rests on her upper chest are fragmented white squares, contrasting against her dark skin. 

“Hello, Amanda,” Connor greets. 

“I’ve been expecting you,” Amanda says, her voice even and cool as ever. “Would you mind a little walk?”

Connor moves beside her and opens the umbrella, then swings it over his shoulder so that they’re both protected from the rain. They start walking, with Connor slowing his pace to match Amanda’s.

“Congratulations, Connor,” Amanda says. Connor turns to look at her just in time to see her faintly smile. “You managed to find that deviant. Tell me, what did you learn?”

“An Officer I’m working with found its diary, but it was encrypted,” Connor says. “It may take weeks to decipher.”

“What else?” Amanda prompts. 

“The walls of the apartment were covered with drawings of labyrinths and other symbols.” His eyebrows furrow a little. “Like the other deviants, it seemed obsessed with rA9. The Officer suggested that it was mere superstition, but… I’m not so sure.”

“Hm.” Amanda hums. “You came very close to capturing that deviant. It’s a pity you let it self-destruct.”

Connor would be a fool if he missed the tone of blame in Amanda’s voice. There’s a tiny voice between the lines of his code (that strangely sounds like yours) telling him to snap back. To tell her that it had a revolver, and that it put the barrel to the soft part of the underside of its chin before he had a chance to stop it.

But he doesn’t. He holds his tongue and molds the words to be polite, like his program tells him to do. (And he blames himself, like his program tells him to do.)

“I knew deviants had a tendency to self-destruct under extreme stress,” Connor says. “But I didn’t expect it to use its last bullet to deactivate itself. I should’ve anticipated that – the Officer even told me that it still had a bullet in the chamber.”

“And you’d readily trust the word of a Soviet?” Amanda asks. 

“Not any Soviet,” Connor responds. “Just this one.”

Amanda gives a disapproving hum. “You easily go against your instructions when in their presence. They told you to leave their apartment, and yet you insisted on staying.”

“My second-top priority is the safety of my partners, just behind hunting deviants,” Connor says. “There were no deviants present. The Officer was hurt. I simply offered my help.”

“They weren’t hurt,” Amanda points out. “It was just their prosthetic that needed repairs.”

“Like I told them, unsatisfactory repairs could possibly cause worse damage than the initial damage,” Connor says. He sets his jaw as his programming nudges him. “But you’re right. I should’ve listened to their instructions.”

Amanda nods, like she approves of Connor’s self-blame. “How are your relationships with your partners developing?”

“As I grow closer to the Officer, it seems I grow closer to Hank,” Connor says. “It’s like they come as a pair, as unlikely as that is. They don’t mind androids, but refused to elaborate on why Hank despises them. It seems some topics are off-limits, like that and the story behind their half-leg prosthetic. I’ll have to look into it on my own.”

When he looks to the side, Amanda’s stopped a few feet behind him. “We don’t have much time.”

Connor turns to face her fully. 

“Deviancy continues to spread. And it’s only a matter of time before the media finds out about it,” she continues. “We need to stop this, whatever it takes.”

“I will solve this investigation, Amanda,” Connor promises. “I won’t disappoint you.”

Amanda glances away, then looks back to Connor. “The Officer just sent you a message about a new case that just came in. They’re asking if you want to find Anderson and investigate it.”

With that, she turns and walks away, her gown and flowing fabrics dappled by the rain.

“What purpose does this serve, Officer?” Connor asks, examining a little toy that dangles from your rearview mirror. It’s a little plastic figure, no more than three inches in height, of Soviet Boy – a little guy dressed politely in a blue shirt, shorts, and a red ascot stamped with a golden hammer and sickle.

“It’s just something I brought over,” you say, your eyes on the road. “It’s Soviet Boy. Don’t you recognize him?”

“He’s the star of many animated shorts geared towards children featuring themes of anti-capitalism and pro-communism,” Connor says. 

You laugh and adjust your grip on the steering wheel. “You’re looking stuff up again.”

“I… I am,” Connor admits after a few moments. 

“No shame in that,” you say. “I’m… I’m glad you’re trying to relate to me. Not a lot of people ask about the little bits and bobs I have scattered around.”

“Why not?” Connor asks. “You can tell a lot about a person from what they surround themselves with.”

“Please,” you laugh. “Don’t psychoanalyze me. Save it for Hank. Speaking of…”

You pull off the road and park on the side of the street. You put your car into park and switch off the ignition. “We’re here.”

Connor follows you as you walk up the path to Hank’s cute cookie-cutter suburban home. You ring the buzzer for a second, causing a harsh sound to go off inside the house.

“Hank!” You call. “It’s me and Connor!”

No response. You pull away and turn to the potted plants and start digging through the loose dirt. 

“What are you doing?” Connor asks, almost incredulously.

“Trying to find his spare key. It was here last time,” you say. “Try the buzzer again.”

Connor holds down the buzzer for more than ten seconds this time. You laugh softly and wipe your hands of dirt. 

“Try to find a key by the backdoor,” you say. “I’ll continue rooting around here.”

“Got it.” Connor disappears around the corner. 

As you turn to another unsearched-through potted plant, you hear the shatter of glass. Your head immediately snaps up and you run around the side of the house.

You turn the corner just in time to see Connor launch himself through Hank’s kitchen window. You peek your head in and see Connor almost cowering away from Sumo.

“Ah – easy, S-Sumo!” He tries, holding up a hand. There’s obvious nervousness and a slight hint of fear in his voice. “I’m your friend, see?”

You stick a hand through the broken window to lightly tug on Sumo’s drooping jowls. “​​Hey, big guy! Don’t worry, you big baby. He’s fine.”

You glance away from Sumo and see Hank, sprawled out on the ground. Alcohol pools around him, and you can just barely see the handle of a revolver nearby.

“Check his breathing!” You bark, pointing at Hank. “Roll him on his side! I don’t want him choking on his own vomit!”

Connor runs over to Hank’s side and kneels. You brace yourself and clamber through the window awkwardly, landing on your back with a guttural groan. 

“I’m fine.” You brush pieces of broken glass off your clothes, careful not to cut yourself. “How’s Hank? Is he okay?”

Connor looks up at you. “I suspect an ethylic coma.”

“Am I supposed to know what that means?” You snap.

“An alcohol-induced coma,” Connor says. “His heart shows no signs of trauma, but there is slight arrhythmia.”

You kneel by Connor and pick up the bottle of whiskey and the gun. You set them on the table, then look down at Hank.

“Oh, Hank,” you mutter, nudging him softly. “Что же ты наделал?”

“Lieutenant?” Connor says, almost in a sing-song voice. He lightly slaps Hank’s face, causing him to groan and sputter. 

“Wake up, Lieutenant! It’s me, Connor!” Connor brings his hand down harder across Hank’s face, causing him to startle awake.

“We’re going to sober you up for your own safety.” Connor helps Hank up, similar to how Hank helped you on the roof. “I have to warn you, this may be unpleasant.”

“Heeey!” Hank slurs. “Leave me alone, you fuckin’ android! Get the fuck outta my house!”

You slot yourself under Hank’s other arm, helping Connor get him off the ground. “Come on, you goddamn drunkard. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Fuckin’ liar!” Hank groans your name. “You’re – you lied to me! Half-android…”

He then fully turns to you (which seems to be a difficult task, as uncoordinated as he is). He says your name again, softer, but still slurred. “I… I lost your flask.”

“Don’t worry, Hank,” you say. The weight of his flask weighs heavy against your chest in your inner jacket pocket. “You’re okay.” 

You look over at Connor. “Where are we taking him?”

“The bathroom,” Connor says. He starts to walk, and you match his pace. 

“Sumo!” Hank shouts. “Attack!”

Sumo gives a full-bellied bark, but doesn’t move from where he’s parked on the floor. Hank praises him with a slurred “Good dog.”

You turn the corner in tandem with Connor. “The bathroom’s on the right. I’ll open the door. Will you be able to hold him?”

“Yes.” Connor steadies his grip around Hank’s waist.

You let go and open the door to the bathroom, ushering them inside. You move out of the way as Connor practically drags Hank along.

“Leave me alone, you asshole!” Hank slurs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Connor sets Hank on the edge of the bathtub. Hank looks around, confused, then back up at Connor. “Oh, nuh-uh. I don’t wanna bath, thank you.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant.” Connor pushes Hank down so that he’s sitting in the tub. “It’s for your own good.”

As soon as Connor turns on the showerhead, Hank howls with pleas of “Turn it off! Turn it off!”

Connor lets the torture continue for a couple more seconds before turning off the water. Hank looks around, disoriented, then up at you and Connor. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“A homicide was reported 43 minutes ago,” Connor says. “We couldn’t find you at Jimmy’s Bar, so we came to see if you were at home.”

“Jesus.” Hank groans as he sits up on the edge of the tub. “I must be the only cop in the world that gets assaulted in his own house by his own fuckin’ android…”

Hank points at you. “And you! You didn’t do anythin’ to stop him?”

“You were drunk, Hank.” You shrug. “You know I hate seeing you like this.”

He looks away, shame painted clearly on his face. He tries to stand, but wobbles in place. Connor catches him as he starts to fall and sits him back in the bathtub.

“Can’t you just leave me alone?” He eventually asks Connor. “Just go with them and leave me here.”

“Unfortunately, I cannot,” Connor says. “I’ve been programmed to investigate this case, and I can’t do it without you. I need both the Officer and the Lieutenant for maximum efficiency.”

“Beat it! You hear me?” Hank shouts as he pulls himself up to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “Get the hell outta here!”

Connor looks at you with some kind of look on his face – the look that lets you know that he’s up to no good. He leisurely strolls toward the exit of the bathroom, slow and deliberate.

“I understand. It probably wasn’t interesting anyway,” he says. “A man found dead in a sex club downtown… guess they’ll have to solve the case without us!”

You hide a laugh behind a cough as Hank mumbles, “Y’know, probably wouldn’t do me any harm to get some air.”

He shifts on the edge of the bathtub. “There’s some clothes in the bedroom there.”

Connor picks up on what he’s asking for. “I’ll go get them.”

“I’ll go check on Sumo,” you say. “Make sure he has enough water and all that. Don’t choke on your own vomit while I’m gone.”

“I’ll try,” Hank mumbles as he drags himself to the toilet.

You wander to the kitchen. Sumo barks at you as you pass by, his tail thumping as it hits the floor. You squat in front of him, scratching behind his ear. He leans into your touch and one of his hind feet repeatedly taps against the floor.

“Oh, scratchy spot?” You laugh softly. “Feel good, Мишка?”

A voice sounds behind you. “What is a ‘scratchy spot’?” 

You yelp, shooting to your feet and stumbling backwards. Your feet catch on Sumo and you can feel yourself falling –

Connor catches both your arms, pulling you to your feet. He pulls a little too quickly, sending you into his chest. You move away, not giving yourself time to savor the coolness of his body against yours. 

“Are you okay?” Connor asks. 

“You keep scaring me,” you say. “I should bell you. Like my cat.”

“I feel like that would be detrimental to the case,” he says. “It would give away the element of surprise that’s needed on some outings.”

You look over at him. “That was sarcasm.”

“I apologize,” Connor says. “I don’t… easily pick up on it.”

“It’s okay.” You turn back to Sumo and kneel down next to him. “You okay, boy? Didn’t hurt you, did I?”

Sumo’s tail wags and he pants happily. “Good,” you coo. “I don’t know what I’d do with myself if I did.”

“Is Sumo… normally this docile?” Connor asks.

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “Wanna pet him? He’s soft.”

Connor kneels beside you, tentatively reaching out a hand. He repeatedly pulls back and reaches forward, as if wondering if what you said was true.

“You’re taking too long.” You take his hand and put it on Sumo’s shoulder, then move it in a petting motion. After a few strokes, you let go. Connor continues on his own.

You stand and smile to yourself. Connor looks nice like this. Like he’s a socially-stunted friend (which you immediately question, because – is he your friend?) and you’re teaching him how to interact with the world.

Connor looks up at you, still petting Sumo. “Am I doing it right?”

“Do you see Sumo complaining?” You laugh. “He’d be happy with any affection you give him.”

You look over at the kitchen. The revolver is still on the table. “I… I actually need to go check something.”

“The gun?” Connor asks. He stands, ready to follow.

“Yes.” You move over to the table and pick up the revolver. You flick it to the side, and the chamber opens. The bullet is in the right position to be fired.

“Ask him what he was doing,” you tell Connor softly. Your eyes never leave the bullet.

“Hank, what were you doing with the gun?” Connor calls.

“Russian roulette!” Hank shouts back, his words still a bit slurred. “Wanted to see how long I could last… must’ve collapsed before I found out.”

“You were lucky,” Connor says. “The next shot would’ve killed you.”

“We were all lucky,” you say, just quiet enough for Connor to hear. You pluck the bullet from the chamber and put it in your pocket, then put the gun down. “I don’t know about you, but I don’t fancy cleaning brain-matter-confetti off the walls.”

“Is Hank getting help?” Connor asks. “Psychological help, I mean.”

“No.” You look at the face-down picture frame on the table. You already know whose photo it is. “Not for my lack of trying, though.”

Connor reaches for the small frame, and you catch his wrist. You hesitate for a moment, then let go. He needs to know this. Deserves to know this.

He picks it up, turning it face-side-up. It’s the photo that would’ve been used for Cole’s kindergarten graduation. Just seeing the picture causes a deep pang in your chest, so painful and real you’d think someone had actually stabbed you.

You grab the picture from Connor’s hands, your own shaking a little as you return it to its original face-down position. “Don’t talk about this to Hank.”

“I won’t,” Connor responds, his voice just as quiet.

You grab his upper arm, looking him in the eye. “I’m serious. Please.”

Connor lays a hand over where yours rests. “I promise.”

You bring your hand away and step back, forcing distance between you and him. You look over at the face-down photo. Even just the small frame, the one that holds the photo of that small child hurts to look at. 

“Earlier, Hank said he lost his flask,” Connor says. You’re glad for the change in topic. “Why did he seem so apologetic?”

“It was a gift.” You pull out the flask from your inner jacket pocket, handing it to Connor. It still has whiskey in it. “A gag gift. One to make fun of him.”

He examines it thoroughly, running a thumb over the engraving that reads Anderson. “A lot of detail was put into the lettering. And the date on the bottom is November of 2031.”

“For when he turned Lieutenant,” you say. “He used to be really straight edge – only drinking on weekends, and only socially. It was funny because he’d never find a use for a flask.”

“But he did.” Connor looks up and meets your eyes. You look away, your face suddenly hot with shame.

“I should’ve taken it earlier,” you say softly. 

“It’s not your fault,” Connor says, his voice soft and compassionate. You really hope it isn’t fake. “You gave it to him years before…”

His eyes turn to the face-down photo frame. You take the flask back, turning it over in your hands.

“Before everything happened,” you finish. “I still feel ashamed. No words will change that.”

“Just keep the flask away from him,” Connor says. “It won’t keep him from drinking, but it might make you feel better.”

“Maybe.” You run a thumb over the engraving. Anderson stares back at you, in neat Courier New. “God, I hope so…”

[blond-jerk-tourney]

Blond Jerk Tourney FINALS

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Sharpay Evans

Blonde, HSM antagonist but it was never that deep

vote for Sharpay right now she fought sasuke

Nanami Kiryuu

She's the mean girl of the show, and a pretty interesting take on the "bitchy vain school rival of the protagonist" trope. She spends most of her early screentime being a bully and most of her later screentime being both the biggest loser imaginable and deeply sad/troubled (which still does not erase how much of an asshole she can be). She even laughs like your stereotypical mean rich girl. Nanami has so many problems and sucks so so bad. I adore her.

Shes a psychotic bully who seeks to ruin the lives and reputations of any girl who gets more of her brothers attention than she does. Reasons Nanami Kiryuu deserves to win: - she has made many attempts at physical and psychological terrorism against Anthy Himemiya (including a plotted wardrobe malfunction at a crowded social gathering) simply for drawing more of her brother's attention than her - tried to fill Anthy's bedroom with wild animals (a snail, a snake, and a live octopus) to make her out to be a freak only to find that her room was already full of wild animals - she bankrolled an elementary schoolers crush on her to turn him into her personal boyservant - briefly non-personed a member of her bully entourage for sharing an umbrella with her brother - received a luxury cowbell due to a shipping error and smugly wore it to school for weeks flaunting it like high coture - when her bully entourage rebelled against her due to her brothers manipulation she brought them back in line by just straight up beating the shit out of all of them - all in all just a petty, goonish motherfucker (she also does the ohohohohoho anime girl laugh)

she's blond: despite being Japanese her hair is yellow, unlike her brother's. yellow is even her image color. she's a jerk: introduced as a jealous and dishonest scheming bully, she is one of the more outwardly antagonistic characters in a cast where pretty much everyone is a Real Piece Of Work she's the best: the quintessential ohoho-laughing ojou, her fully-realized character arc makes people both laugh and cry even her sidekick is a blond jerk! how many blond jerks have their own blond jerk sidekick?

i don't know what you've heard but she's NOT the kind of girl who lays eggs!

The token mean rich girl of the franchise. Does the classic "ohohoho" laugh. Doesn't like either of our main characters. She never actually seems to get her way, and secretly has a lot of her own problems. also she lays eggs and turns into a cow

Absolutely THE quintessential anime mean girl. I mean literally her laughing is THE meme for the hohohoho anime laugh. Needs attention So Badly and straight up bullies anyone she deems a threat to that (so basically Everyone). I haven’t finished RGU but apparently she duels with the intent to kill and drowned a kitten once because it was taking up too much of her brother’s attention? Also she’s 13 which explains a lot

[deeppenguinstudent]

Beach episode with the trojans and Foxes.

Kevin and Jeremy are the first ones into the ocean with catalina and laila tagging along behind them. They play that game where you get on eachothers shoulders and try to push down the other people.

Ananya is making sand castles alongside Renee as Paul and Cody run to the beach with kiddish buckets to get water to stabilise the castle. Allison is tasked with collecting seashells for their sandcastle while Xavier and her converse , talking bout her future fashion line. Andrew joins Renee, and he gives conclusive sand castle advice because he wants to have the best sand castle at the beach to put the little kids hard work to shame as he says.

Matt and Erik are on the grill while Dan and Katelynn play music and swerve their hips to the beat, helping them with the food but mostly just gossiping about their boyfriends to each other. Lucas and Aaron complain about their courses to each other as they help set the benches for the food.

Neil and Jean are seated on one side, Jean can't fathom even dipping his toes into the water, and Neil shares that sentient as they sit in silence apropos to Neil talking about new recruits and complaining about the uselessness of the backliners. Jean doesn't say anything back, but he's happy someone is beside him. Neil doesn't think to mention that Andrew had forced him into extensive therapy to deal with the water correctional trauma, and he was supposed to attend his resolution appointment next week.

The coaches, Rhemann and Wymack, enjoy a hearty conversation with beer and snacks as Abby and Lisinski joke about their reckless kids.

Dan yells at them to come back to the benches to eat, and they begrudgingly agree to scampering to eat the meat that has been freshly grilled. Andrew takes refuge under the umbrella as the rest laughs and plays volleyball while enjoying a light snack.

Jeremy calls out to Jean as Catalina and Laila take either side of Jean's arms and hoist him up. It's Jeremy, Catalina, Jean and Laila VS Matt, Dan, Kevin, and Aaron for the match. They end in a draw, which makes Jeremy and Kevin continue the match by their lonesome until the Sun sets.

The coaches are starting up a campfire for the kids, and they all take a seat around it. Renee takes a seat beside Jean, face brightening, and Kevin takes his other side hesitantly. Neil notices Jeremy's face falter in disappointment before lightening up as he decides to sit down beside Neil and Andrew.

He's loud and jubilant. Andrew surprisingly converses with him about literature, and Neil can feel an unlikely bond forming. It was solidified when Jeremy reached into his pocket before lathering his smores with an ungodly amount of sugar. Andrew pointed towards it, and Jeremy poured the remaining of the sugary substance onto Andrew's smores.

Nicky pulled out a guitar. Where did he get that from? and they sing some 90s song lost in translation, no one knows the lyrics some don't even know the tune as they sing their hearts out. Neil feels a soft smile on his face, after everything they've been through they deserve this.

He feels shuffling and sees Jeremy stalking over towards Jean. He grimaces at Jean, breaking crackers on the stick before helping him gently as he takes away the awkwardness by exchanging commentary with Kevin. Renee gazed at Jean knowingly before squeezing his hand and making her way towards Allison and Xavier.

Jeremy is now seated next to Jean, impossibly close. Jean surprisingly doesn't comment on it and ignores the way Jeremy practically leans on him. It was Jeremy and Kevin conversing, yet it seemed like Kevin was the bystander within the interaction between three of them.

Nicky whispers to Neil, his guitar now abandoned and face filled with crackers. He said he feels bad for flirting with Jeremy. He didn't know that he had someone in mind. Neil glances over to Jean and Jeremy and sees Jean let out a small smile for the first of the night as Jeremy's head is whacked playfully by Kevin.

Neil's eyes widened in shock as Andrew rolls his eyes at his idiocity. Jean meets his eyes, shit was he staring for too long? He gave a whimsical raise of his eyebrows before nudging his head towards Jeremy, and Jean flipped him off before indulging in whatever Jeremy was explaining animatedly about.

[bluejutdae]

Okay hear me out kissing in the rain with our lovely stray kids. Reading Charms newest fake text just reminded me of my love of being kissed in the rain I want it so bad and since I am a single Pringle I will have to settle for fiction

Sorry it took me so long, darling, this couple of weeks have been so tiring, but I wanted to do this! Hope you like it ❣️

Chan: I think Chan would grab you by your hand and make you spin under the rain, and when you’re face to face, he’ll pull you closer to him to kiss you. He’ll sway on his feet, making you sway on time with him. Like a slow dance, but too focused on kissing you to really pay attention to his feet. He’d cup your head and kiss you filthy and passionately. After a few minutes he’d insist on going home because ‘it’s cold’ (he’s actually horny).

Minho: he would roll his eyes and pretend to hate it, but in secret he loves seeing you look like a wet kitten, so he peppers your face with kisses and finishes with a slow deep kiss that takes your breath away.

Changbin: giggling. Giggles, all the giggles! He’d jump in a puddle and run under the rain, pulling you with him. He’s the kind of boyfriend to put is tongue out to have the rain fall onto his tongue. He makes you twirl under he rain and kisses you laughing. (He then insists on running home to take a warm shower - together).

Hyunjin: super hyper romantic Hyunjin would wait for a rainy day to confess. Hair wet and clinging to his face, rivulets of water drawing wet lines in his cheeks as he repeats he loves you again and again. He picks you up to kiss you better, with your hands in his hair and the taste of rain on your lips.

Jisung: he forgets his umbrella, and he has to walk under the rain too often. But you forget yours too, so you’re holding hands and running under every canopy that gives you shelter. You’re soaked wet, and there’s not much point in still trying to protect yourself from the rain. With just a smirk, you start running in the street, directly under the rain, laughing and screaming. He grabs you by your wrist to pull you closer and kisses you. “You’re the best thing that happened to me”.

Felix: I’m convinced Felix is a wild boy. Bare feet and at ease in the nature, he loves the feeling of the cool rain on his heated skin. He loves summer rain. So it’s not unusual for him to drag you under the cool rain on a humid summer day, arms spread and spinning like a mad man, crazy smile on his lips and your names screamed to make you join him. As soon as you get close to him, he kisses your nose, your lips, your cheeks, and he smiles so brightly, it’s almost like the sun is shining on you.

Seungmin: he’s the opposite of Felix. You have to drag him under the rain, insisting it’s for a romantic moment. Deep down, he’d do anything for you, but he’s not gonna admit it easily. So he drags his feet, hand clasping yours, and soft voice lamenting your choice, but he still follows you. When he kisses you, tho, there’s nothing holding him back. His hands held you from your head and your hip, his lips are demanding on yours and all you can feel now, it’s him and the rain slowly seeping through your clothes.

Jeongin: not really sure about him. He’s either be feral and chase after you under the rain just to kiss you when he finally catches you — filthy and full of spit, because who cares? If you’re gonna run under the rain like animals, might as well disregard all social norms, right? Or he’s gonna be like the main character of a romcom, picking you up in the middle of the street while you’re crossing the road just to kiss you, and if the cars start honking because you’re holding up traffics, then (again) who cares?

[rxnn]

Bleeding Heart [one]

warnings: first post so i'm new to this. mention of storm and joker attack (leia and callum aren't hurt). please let me know if i missed any!

important! this is an fem!oc x yan!batboys cause that's just more fun/easier for me. feel free to use y/n if that's comfier i don't care, just don't be a jerk.

this will mostly be a slow roll into yan behavior. each of them will have their own descent which with either be slow or fast (i literally have a document where i wrote everything out). also, this my first time writing yan or darker content so be patient with me please. last thing, promise: i don't condone any behavior that will be present in this series, this is for fictional purposes only (not seen in this chap but it will be present later).

❥ ❥ ❥ 

Leia Barnett always liked the rain.

Don't get her wrong, she liked sunny days, but something about rain hitting the roof of her semi-decent two-bedroom apartment while rain ran down the windows in steady streams and she sat on her small couch with a cup of coca in her cold hands. Snuggled under a quilt her grandmother had made her when she went off to college, she smiled, content. It had small stains on it now after it's many years of use.

There was one from Matilda's coffee that she'd catch herself staring at more than often now that they'd never get the chance to giggle about it anymore. Matilda, one of her dearest friends, her best friend who'd taken her in when she had no where else to go, her person some would say. Where one went, the other was close by. But now, she was in a place Leia couldn't follow. Not for a long time.

Another was a blue marker stain that refused to budge thanks to one of Callum's many attempts at drawing. Callum, her beautiful boy with soft dark curls and bright hazel eyes. She loved that boy more than anything. She promised herself she'd do good by him, better than her parents.

It was a slow start, raising him with Matilda until she passed a year ago and having to move, it was a lot, but Leia was nothing if not determined (see: stubborn).

Leia glanced at the clock and set her cup to the side, stretching before she stood and collected her shoes, jacket, and umbrella to pick Callum up from the bus stop. She walked out of her apartment, double checking that she locked the door behind her.

It was only a ten-minute walk to the bus stop. One that she tried her best to make every day, only missing it when she had a shift at the hospital. Often times, she woke early enough that she was able to see Callum to the bus and back in time to pick him up except for the rare twelve hour she had to cover. Those usually happened when some villain hit Gotham.

Those days were hard.

On those days, Callum stayed with Mrs. Houseman, their neighbor to the left. She was in her late seventies from what Leia could tell. She worked at the library and often brought Callum there on those longer days to keep him busy for no charge. Mrs. Houseman claimed she often missed her own children so having Callum around was payment enough. As a single mother who was just beginning to piece her life together again, Leia truly appreciated the woman.

Her phone ringing made her jump as she walked through the rain, spotting Callum get off the bus. She quickly waved him over and she kissed his forehead and adjusted the hood of his bright red rain jacket as it started to rain.

"Hi, Mama!"

"Hey, Cal! How was school?"

"Good! I played tag with Justin today!"

"Ooo, sounds fun." Leia ruffled his hair.

'Susan' appeared on her screen, and she sighed before answering. Susan was a nice woman in her forties and was the head nurse on her floor. She'd taken Leia under her wing and given her plenty of tips for living in Gotham.

Leia gestured to her phone and Callum nodded, grabbing her free hand as they began walking home.

"Hello? Everything alright?"

"Where are you?" She sounded rushed and Leia looked around for anyone running.

"I'm picking up Callum..." she trailed off, gripping Callum's hand a little tighter and sped up. The boy glanced up at her, confused, and she shook her head, signaling him to hurry.

"There's been a Joker attack near your place. Get your boy and get inside you hear?"

"Gas?" Leia asked as she started running, picking up Callum and closing her umbrella as would only make it harder to run for cover.

"That's what I'm hearing. Don't let me see you in here tonight, Barnett."

And like that, Susan hung up and Leia tucked her phone away.

Suddenly, the rain wasn't so relaxing as it had covered the sound of toxin sirens she was only now hearing. It seemed the few people on the streets had also picked up on them as people began running for shelter.

"Mama?" Callum's fearful voice only fueled her to rush through the door of their complex.

"It's okay, baby," she wheezed, holding the boy closer. "Almost there."

The sirens were louder now, signaling the toxin was almost to their block.

Leia took the steps two at a time. She could hear the door to their complex open and close but she paid little mind to it and rushed to their door and unlocked it with shaking hands before Callum ran in.

She cursed herself for not remembering the masks before she left. Months here and she should've known. To be fair, the last Joker attack had been before she moved in.

Leia locked the door's three locks behind her (you could never be too careful).

By the time she turned, the sirens were just outside their complex and Callum had scampered off to grab their gas masks. He came running around the corner and grabbed onto her pant leg just as the green smog covered the windows. Leila was quick to strap the mask around his face before putting her own on. Sure, they were inside, but Leia heard stories of windows not being fully closed or cracked and the smog seeping through, infecting unsuspecting families.

"C'mon." She ushered Callum away from the windows and toward the center of their small apartment where she gave him headphones that were connected to a playlist she'd made for situations like these a long time ago. She pulled him to sit in her lap as she leaned against the wall, holding him close to her as the sirens rang out.

She closed her eyes, trying to stop shaking and stop the panic that threatened to cloud her mind.

The sound of laughter filled the streets and she hugged her son tighter. Everyone who inhaled the green gas laughed until they died. The first time she'd seen pictures of the bodies of those affected, she nearly threw up.

Their area was usually safe from such things with only muggings, some drug deals that were usually dealth with, and smaller crimes. Every now and again you'd hear gunshots. It'd taken a while for the Barnett's to get used to, but now it was as common as the never-ending rain.

Callum curled into her, facing away from the windows, but the shadows of the smoke moving past the windows was scary enough for the six-year-old.

An eternity of waiting for the smog to clear, the laughter to fall silent, and the robotic voice from the sirens telling them it safe to leave their homes.

Leia didn't move.

She listened to the rain against the windows, much stronger now as the storm hit Gotham in a rage of its own.

Looking back only a few months later, she should've known then. She should've left and never looked back.

The rain that she adored so much beat against the windows, begging to swallow her and her son whole.

❥ ❥ ❥ 

pretty short cause i'm scared. next ones will be longer, pinky promise pookies :)

two, three, four

[luvrodite]

DAYDREAM LOOK IN YOUR EYE JASON TODD

↳ you get caught in the rain, and it's like something out of a movie scene

The world is awash and you are caught beneath an awning when your class lets out, a dreary 5 PM that paints the skies in miserable greys. You long for the warmth of your bed as you reach a hand out to catch a raindrop in the palm of your hand. You gather more than just one, water splattering into the makeshift basin and rolling down your wrist. You draw back, eyeing the skies.

Only that morning, you’d eyed your umbrella and forgotten it in your haste to leave on time. You can see the clear plastic cover of it in your mind, hanging off your coat rack beneath the soft cashmere of your boyfriend’s sweater. 

A bitter wind bites your exposed neck, and you long for that sweater, too, suddenly aware of how poorly prepared you are for the onslaught of rain and air. Around you, everybody else hurries into the storm, running the short distance to the nearby bus stops. 

You pout, making to turn and head back into the building and–a flash of white draws your attention.

Jason, a vision in pale cashmere and dark denim. 

You feel your mouth turn up at the corners at the very sight of him, striding towards you. The umbrella in his hand shields from the elements, and you feel as though your life has somehow become not your own. This couldn’t be your life, could it? Ordinary, and simple? 

There is nothing plain about the man that walks towards you, and to you it seems the grandest gesture of all. The both of you are storybook lovers, now. It hardly feels real, and such a mundane gesture, too. You, standing on the steps and him, come to sweep you away. It seems silly, that a boy and an umbrella should be so elevated in your eyes, but you can’t help the giddy grin, or the laugh that bubbles out when he approaches.

“Hi, you,” you breathe out, and he grins at you, ushering you out from under the awning and catching you as you stumble into him in your haste to remain dry. It’s in vain, but you care little about the water gathering on your brow when you look up and teal eyes are blinking down at you. “What are you doing?”

“You forgot your umbrella, kid,” Jason laughs. You aren’t the only one affected. He looks at you as though you’ve reunited after an age apart–it’s been only an afternoon, he’d been asleep in your bed when you’d left. But the weather does little to dampen either his spirit or yours. 

You can’t help but to reach up and press your mouth to his cheek.

“Not that I'm complaining, but what was that for?” he laughs. 

“You’re a dream,” you murmur, slipping your hand into his. “Home?”

He regards you a moment longer, eyes softening into a pale sea. “Yeah,” he agrees quietly, drawing you close. “Let’s get you home.”

this was so tender and sweet but i have to confess...i could not stop thinking about stsg in jjk2 and gojo with the umbrella...i have an edit of him to the opening of style by taylor swift in that scene and i will not lie...i was watching that while writing this

[treeofnonsense]

So I'm going to preface this by saying: I am cis as all hell. I'm not any form of trans or nonbinary, I have never been any form of trans or nonbinary, and thus I tend to stay pretty quiet on that front over here. Ain't my place to tell people who know better what to do, and I'm not trying to do that here. However, after having made a lot of friends under the trans umbrella, after being lucky enough to have some of those friends share with me some of their struggles, their joys, their lives, and after noticing a couple of patterns in their journeys... I think there is one message I would like to share that may help some of you to hear, if you'll give me a minute of your time, and I think it may have to come specifically from a cis person.

The message is this: If your cisgender friends are good friends, you being your true self is not a burden to them.

For the people in the back: If your cisgender friends are good friends. You being your true self with gender. Is not a burden to them.

I didn't know my friend in high school was trans until he transitioned socially and I heard his new name. He didn't tell me first because I was raised fundamentalist Christian and probably did not look like a safe person to tell; when I pulled him aside in class so no one else could hear us, told him he could tell me to buzz off if he was uncomfortable, and politely asked for confirmation on pronouns, I remember the surprise and joy on his face. It took me about five minutes of chanting his new name and pronouns in the shower to get it to stick in my brain. That tiny amount of effort was nothing compared to seeing him pull himself out of the depressive funk dysphoria had put him in, of celebrating senior year when he legally changed his name, of drawing him a snowflake dragon for Christmas and hiding the trans flag colors in the shimmer of the ice so it would get past our conservative school's radar. We became closer friends after he came out because I knew him better and he knew he could trust me. He got me my first ace ring. I was not only supporting him, but learning from him, and sharing in his joy.

The genderfluid roommate in college took me a little longer to adapt to, I'll be honest, I was still learning, but hey - it turns out it's not really that hard to check the pronoun pins on a lanyard before you address someone. It's pennies when that person comes along to teach you the wonders of thrift shopping and takes you to meet a drag queen for the first time. I've met so many people online whose identities I do not always intuitively understand, but who I support anyway, and who have made me consider so many new things. It's not a burden to know about my friends' journey when it comes to gender, it's a privilege to know them more deeply and be trusted in that way. It's a new dimension to this person I already love, that's all.

Look, I am not saying that all your cis friends are going to be perfect, that we're not going to fuck up occasionally because we don't know better or we had a bad day, that we understand everything - we're not, we will, and we don't. I am not saying that everyone is a safe person to talk to either - god knows that's not true, unfortunately. But. If your worry about expressing yourself is of being a nuisance, of burdening someone with your problems or needs, of being too much or too out-there or too confusing, consider this: Your friends may not only be willing to learn and help you, they may be happy to. In a true friendship, both people benefit from one person's joy. If you're happy because you're able to be your honest self, they'll be happy too. Suddenly that weird shyness and sadness they saw from you but didn't know the cause of has gone away. Heck, maybe they'll learn from you and start following in your genderfunky footsteps. Or maybe you'll just have a cis friend who texts you celebration emojis when you have a good gender day, or is there when you wake up from surgery, or goes shopping for new outfits with you, or even brings over ice cream when you're having a hard time. And then you both get ice cream. Come on. This is what friends do.

Be safe, of course. Trust your judgment when it comes to sharing information. But if you're simply scared, try to balance out the fear of what you may lose with the thought of what you may also stand to gain. Don't let the anxiety beast turn your identity into a problem. It's not a burden, it's a part of you, and the people who love you will love to meet it.

[cinderella-ish]

Fruits Basket Queer Headcanons

The more I watch and read Fruits Basket, the more I get the sense that no one is straight here. Well... almost no one. So, in honor of pride month, here are my queer headcanons for the cast of Fruits Basket!

(Disclaimer that these are my own personal headcanons, obviously nothing official, etc... I try to draw on evidence from the text, but I'll admit I'm occasionally going purely off vibe. Also, I'm bi and genderfluid, so that's the lens I'm bringing to this. I'd love to hear your headcanons, especially if they differ from mine! Enjoy!)

Genderfluid and/or genderqueer: Ayame and Ritsu

I (probably somewhat controversially) think a lot of the gender non-conformity among Fruits Basket characters is just that: gender non-conformity. Momiji is one example; he dresses in girls' clothing (though not "like a girl") until his growth spurt, but it seems important to him to be seen as a man from at least that point forward.

Ritsu is someone whose gender identity and/or nonconformity really should've been explored more in the manga - as written, it feels like Ritsu's exploration of gender was viewed as something he'd grow out of, rather than a search for understanding himself. He doesn't really seem to mind being identified as either male or female, though he obviously feels a lot of shame about his comfort with wearing women's clothes (though no one around him when we meet him really seems to mind, which is nice-- I also appreciate that Ritsu was shown to have friends who adore him outside of the Sohmas). Anyway, the fact that he seems okay with being referred to as both a man and a woman is the entire basis for this headcanon.

Ritsu also idolizes Ayame, and I think part of this stems from Ayame's own security in his non-traditional gender presentation. We don't really get a lot of Ayame's thoughts on gender, despite his line of work, but he strikes me as the sort of person who would enjoy playing with his own gender presentation and would be more than open to exploring his gender identity (and probably has!). I think Ayame would lean more toward having an expansive view of masculinity rather than dressing more feminine when he feels more feminine, but I also think he would embrace the different ways people might perceive his gender.

Transgender Woman: Akito Sohma

This I think is quite clear in canon. Akito was assigned male at birth, then transitioned to female.

What makes it hard for some people to see Akito as trans is that the reason she was assigned male at birth was not the typical reason people are assigned male at birth in our world (it was her mother's demand, rather than a guess based on the shape of her genitals), but I don't think that makes her any less trans.

Under the Ace and/or Aro Umbrellas

This umbrella is a little tricky for several of these characters, because they've been forbidden from dating, or had very controlling parents, or thought they'd only hurt anyone they loved, so they haven't necessarily had time to figure out whether they've just repressed that part of themselves or they just don't experience attraction at all/without a strong emotional connection first. (Not everyone needs time to figure that out, though!) But anyway, here's who I think would eventually find themselves under at least one of these umbrellas!

Asexual/Aromantic: Kazuma

I love the tidbit that Kazuma tried dating women, but talked so much about Kyo that he never got a second date. I like the interpretation of him as a gay man, but to me, he reads as asexual/aromantic. Dating just doesn't even seem to be on his radar!

Demisexual/Demiromantic: Kyo, Shigure, Machi

A lot of the fandom sees Kyo as demi, and I'm totally here for that interpretation of him. He generally seems annoyed by or frightened of girls who aren't Tohru (frightened either when there's a risk of transforming, or when Kagura is involved). Also, it's CUTE that Kyo takes after his dad (Kazuma) in this way.

At first blush, it seems very unlikely Shigure is under the ace umbrella, but I couldn't stop thinking about his brief relationship with Mayu. He's the one who suggested they date, yet he seemed completely disinterested in her. He did sleep with Ren, but that was only for revenge and because he imagined Akito would look like her if she'd been allowed to grow up as a woman. I genuinely believe all his "high school girls" ickiness was an act, much like most of his personality.

It doesn't seem like Machi can totally tell if/when she likes something (or someone!). This makes me wonder if she's just never had feelings for anyone before Yuki.

Demiromantic: Rin, Hiro

Rin seems open to sexual relations with people other than Haru, but I genuinely can't see her having romantic feelings for anyone other than him. I see Hiro similarly with respect to Kisa. I think, if they ever split, it would take an extremely long time for him to even be open to falling for someone else.

Under the Bi/Pan+ Umbrella

So, I'm not making a distinction between these two (and other orientations that fall under the same umbrella, like poly- or omnisexual) because that seems like a very personal, internal conversation. I know some people make a distinction between the way bi and pan people experience attraction, but some don't, and that feels too prescriptivist for my purposes here. So, these are characters who I think experience attraction to multiple genders!

Tohru obviously falls for Kyo, but she also thinks Akito is cute, she thinks Rin is "shapely" and "beautiful" (her words!), and she goes along with it when Saki talks about them getting married.

Yuki ends up with Machi (and I love them together!) but I think Kyo was his first crush. His arc is also very relatable for a lot of queer folks (myself included!). And he's a disaster. Long live bisexual disaster Yuki Sohma!

Shigure is tricky, because the flirtation between him and Ayame could just be a joke, but I personally think it's a joke that arose out of some fun nights spent together...

Akito obviously likes men, but she also flirts with Tohru when they first meet.

Saki talks about marrying both Tohru and Kazuma. She's probably joking about Kazuma, but she's generally a very literal person, so I don't think she's joking about Tohru. She also marries a foreigner canonically, and that foreigner is probably a man.

Momiji talks about finding an amazing sweetheart-- not an amazing wife or girlfriend!!-- one day. I think he was being very intentional in not specifying his future partner's gender.

Hatori is the one I feel least sure of, but my headcanon is that he gets so annoyed and embarrassed by Shigure and Ayame because he doesn't want anyone to know he was totally part of at least a few of those trysts...

Mutsuki and Hajime are definitely together, right? And it seems like the fandom mostly sees Mutsuki as bi, which... yeah, that tracks.

Hatsuharu's first love was Yuki, and his last love was Rin.

Kakeru has a girlfriend, but for some reason, I have it in my head that he always refers to Kyo as Yuki's "hot cousin"? Did I just imagine that? Anyway... even if I did make that up, I think his backstory is a great analogy for the experience of coming out. He was trying to fit in a box and decided he was done with it. Pure chaotic bi energy.

For Ayame, see Shigure and Hatori above. (Also, “I am a bottom ALL THE WAY!!!”)

Mine is admittedly here just based on vibes.

Mitsuru likes Ritsu even though she's not entirely sure of Ritsu's gender!

Kimi is also here purely based on vibes.

Gay and Lesbian

Hiroshi has always struck me as gay. I can't really explain it. I usually have absolutely awful gaydar, so it's odd that he gives me such clear gay vibes. I wrote him as gay in my longfic, Bloom Within Us, and I'll probably always write him as gay.

President Takei obviously has a crush on Yuki. We don't really see him show interest in anyone else (partially because he's such a minor character). He also seems to still be a bachelor in Another, which could be because he can't legally marry yet...

My headcanon that Kunimitsu is gay kind of popped up as I was writing Bloom Within Us. There's no particular reason, and he doesn't give me strong gay vibes or anything.

Hajime and Mutsuki are definitely a couple! (Right?!) And it seems like most of the fandom sees Hajime as gay which... yeah, I can get behind that.

Akimoto (Arisa's senpai from her gang) is another character who gives me such strong vibes that I thought it was canon that she was a lesbian. Whoops. Anyway, I headcanon that Akimoto is gay, and referenced that in one of my oneshots.

❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

Controversial omission: Arisa Uotani. She says she likes Kureno because he reminds her of Tohru, but she doesn't like Tohru? Yes, she gives me major queer vibes but this to me points to her being straight. Also, based on the way she reacts to her friends developing crushes or falling in love (and the way they react to her falling in love), I don't think there's anything between her and Saki or her and Tohru (as much as I love fics that pair her with Saki!). I also think not every relationship with lots of physical affection and strong feelings of love has to be romantic.

Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading my queer headcanons! This has been in my drafts for months, so I'm really glad Pride Month gave me a reason to finish this post!

Happy Pride!

[ww2yaoi]

Listen I want to be into Webgott because I see all your hype and I’m like obviously it’s great and every time I try I’m like , “eh” about it, like what am I missiiiiing why can’t I get into thiiiiis?

So like. What’s the thing. I think maybe I have a hard time because they’re not bffs but they also aren’t exactly like mortal enemies and I’m having trouble figuring out what the vibe should be.

So anyways if you’ve got something to pitch me the sale I’m all ears.

I won't pitch to you because if something doesn't click, it doesn't click and with ships I feel like you either get it or you don’t, so I'm not gonna try and convince you because I honestly feel like that’s a waste of everyone’s time and would be a lot of effort on my end and like why do I give a fuck if you don’t like it (to be brutally honest). However, I can explain what I do like about it. This is going to be kind of rambly and fractured but whatever.

I guess first and foremost I see them both as very interesting characters in their own right. Joe and Web both hate the Germans, but they joined the war for different reasons. Web wanted to write about it, considering himself a kind of warrior poet. He wanted to be on the ground and experience the war as it happened, in all its honest brutality. He comes from a fairly wealthy family, and goes to an Ivy League school, yet he forwent becoming an officer to be a lowly private and sleep in holes. That’s weird. He’s a bit bizarre for doing that.

Joe, in the show at least, is Jewish. So this is personal to him. He’s fighting because he has to fight, because someone has to kill these Nazis and he’s very much willing to do that. He’s a good soldier for the most part, he doesn’t answer to authority all that well and he’s bloodthirsty to a detriment at times, but he’s extremely loyal to his friends and protective of the group.

Arguably, Web is not that good of a soldier. He doesn’t volunteer for anything. He didn’t break out of the hospital to rejoin his friends. He’s kind of a loner, scribbling in his notebook. He’s intellectual and pretentious and he gets bullied for it. All this culminates in his and Joe’s fraught relationship in The Last Patrol which is kind of the crux of the whole ship. Joe sees the worst in Web, but Web eventually proves himself and is accepted back into the group by Joe. I don’t want to explain the whole episode, you get the point.

All this to say, they’re very different people, of different social strata, and they never would’ve looked twice at each other had the war not happened, which is kind of the hidden beauty of these worldwide conflicts if there is any. The mass mobilization of millions of people under the umbrella of one cause has a sort of equalizing effect where different social groups come together. Joe and Web literally come from opposite coasts. The symbolism is pretty obvious and poignant to me.

Anyways, I guess what appeals to me about Webgott is their similarities and differences and how these dichotomies produce a dynamic with a lot of potential for understanding and misunderstanding. You’re right that they’re not exactly friends and they’re not exactly enemies, but while this seems to put you off this is the whole appeal to me. They exist in this liminal space where they’re constantly feeling each other out and fighting to understand each other and correcting their assumptions of each other. It’s not easy, but there’s a draw there because they’re so inexplicable to one another. They’re mirrors to each other in a lot of ways. They’re both their own people. They both have this complex capacity for love and violence. I see them both as very passionate individuals with a lot of inner turmoil, and I think they could find love and comfort in each other if only they could break down each other’s walls or be brave enough to lower them themselves.

Ships should have conflict to be interesting. There should be some sort of barrier to having the perfect relationship or else the whole objective of storytelling and narrative is a pointless exercise. That gives people something to write about and chew on. And I think with Webgott there’s a lot to chew on.