#and when i first posted it i really almost labelled it ''please don't assume this is about a specific condition''

[inkskinned]

you wanted to be a good friend, because you loved your friends, but the truth was that everyone else somehow had a pamphlet on being normal that you never received. most of the time you learn by trial-and-error. you are terrified of the next big mistake you make, because it seems like the rules are completely arbitrary.

you've learned to keep the prickly parts of your personality in a stormcloud under your bed - as if they're a second version of you; one that will make your friends hate you. it feels feral, burning, ugly.

instead, you have assembled habits based on the statistical likelihood of pleasing others. you're a good listener, which is to say - if you do speak up, you might end up saying the wrong thing and scaring off someone, but people tend to like someone-who-listens. or you've got no true desires or goals, because people like it when you're passive, mutable. you're "not easy to fluster" which is to say - your emotions are fundamentally uninteresting to others around you; so you've learned to control them to a degree that you can no longer really feel them happening.

you have long suspected something is wrong with you, but most of the time, googling doesn't help. you are so-used to helping-yourself, alone and with no handbook. the reek of your real self feels more like a horrible joke - you wake up, and, despite all your preparations, suddenly the whole house is full of smoke. the real you is someone waiting to ruin your other-life, the one where you're normal and happy. the real-self is unpredictable, angry.

your real self snarls when people infantilize the whole situation. because if you were really suffering, everyone seems to think you'd be completely unable to cope. but you already learned the rules, so you do know how to cope, and you have fucking been coping. it's not black-and-white. it's not that you are healed during the other times - it's just that you're able to fucking try. and honestly, whenever you show symptoms, it's a really fucking bad sign.

because the symptoms you have are ugly and unmanageable for others. your symptoms aren't waifish white girl things. they're annoying and complicated. they will be the subject of so many pretentious instagram reels. if they cared about you, they'd just show up on time. you care, a lot, so deeply it burns you. you like to picture a world where the comments read if they loved you, they'd never need glasses to see. but since that's a rule you've seen repeated - "one must never be late or you are a bad friend" - you constantly worry about being late and leave agonizingly early. there are no words for how you feel when you're still late; no matter how hard you were trying.

so you have to make up for it. you have to make up for that little horrible real you that you keep locked in a cabinet. you are bad at answering emails so every project you make has to be perfect. you are weird and sensitive so you have to learn to be funny and interesting. you are an inconvenience to others, so you become as smooth as possible, buffing out all the rough parts.

all this. all this. so people can pass their hands over you and just tell you just the once -how good you are. you're a good friend. you're loveable.

[idoodlestuffsometimes]

Brother's Keeper AU:

Frequently Asked Questions

Q: How did Caleb live so long? How can he still be here after 400 years?

A: Belos wanted him to stick around and so he made it happen. As for specifics: *shrugs* your guess is as good as mine! This is something I've preferred to leave up to the readers. I will simply confirm that he isn't hiding any goop powers or OP palisman-given magical abilities. He is, for all intents and purposes, a regular human who is somehow really, really old.

Q: If Caleb is still alive, where did Hunter come from?

A: The full story here hasn't been told yet, but you may notice Caleb is missing quite a few bones...

Q: Caleb's ears are pointed! Did Belos cut them??

A: Correct

Q: Does Caleb know about the Collector/the basilisks/Belos' plans?

A: Probably! He's been Belos' sounding board for 400 years. Access to things that could "further corrupt him" or provide him a tool for escape, however, are off limits, so there are many things, like the Collector, that he's heard about but never seen for himself.

Q: Where's Flapjack/Amity/Darius/etc?

A: This is basically a canon divergence. If you haven't seen a particular character, it's safe to assume for now that they're up to whatever they were doing in canon.

Q: I don't get it. Why is Caleb insane?

A: I suggest you reread the first few story posts, my friend! You have fallen for Belos' lies.

Q: Do you have a posting schedule? When will the next part come out?

A: There is no posting schedule. I draw (mostly but not always) traditionally in my free time, for the fun of telling a cool story, and some posts are longer than others. That means the timing of the next post depends on how long it is, how much time I have, and whether or not I'm at home with access to my scanner. Sometimes this means I post quickly. Sometimes it means you'll see me next month. Sorry about that.

Just know that if I know there's going to be an extended wait, especially one where I'm not actively working on the next drawing, I will make an announcement about it. If you haven't seen an update in a while but I also haven't said anything, it's almost definitely because I'm actively chipping away at a part of the story that's taking me longer.

Q: Why do some of the story posts have a letter after the number? Are these less important than the regular story posts? Can I skip them?

A: No, I Do Not Recommend skipping them! They are just as important as the others. They have a letter on the end because they were added later and I use letters as a way to avoid renumbering everything. If you see story posts labeled something like "3, 3A, 4", they are meant to be read the same as you would if they were "3, 4, 5".

Q: Can I make art/fic/cosplay of this au?

A: Knock yourself out! If you post it somewhere, please include credit, but otherwise I don't mind, and actually love seeing what you do with it! If it's NSFW though, please keep it in appropriate spaces with proper warnings.

Q: Wait there's fic/fanart?? Can I see?

A: If you look through the tag on my blog "BK fridge gallery" you can browse any content shared with me that I've reblogged. :) People are free not to share it with me too though, and there are some I don't reblog, especially if its gorey or suggestive, so you might be able to find a bit more elsewhere under the Brother's Keeper AU name if you look for it.

You may also notice I have a featured tag called "BK Soundtrack." That's for songs that people have suggested to go with the AU. You are welcome to browse or suggest songs of your own ;)

Q: :( I sent an ask but you didn't answer. Did you get it?

A: Probably, yes. Sometimes it takes me a few days to get to it. However, if it was theorizing about future plot points, I may actually be holding onto it with plans to answer at a more appropriate time. I like to keep many of my plans for the story close to the chest, so don't be surprised if your theory ask disappears only to show up many months later when the story has progressed to a point where I can give you a more in depth answer.

[the--highlanders]

could u please tag the q word? thanks

hey! thanks for being polite about asking, but I'm gonna have to say no to this one unfortunately

if you're someone who is genuinely negatively affected by the word, I'm sorry for that. you should still be able to blacklist it on your end via post content filtering: https://help.tumblr.com/hc/en-us/articles/115015814708-Tag-and-Post-Content-Filtering

(and if so, I will say that I'm going to be using the word under the cut)

if you're not, and you're just asking because you're under the impression that queer is an inherently harmful term: it's not. it has a history as a slur, yes, but you'd be hard-pressed to find an alternative that doesn't - I personally primarily heard gay as a slur growing up, and only heard queer when I was older, as an identity or blanket term for the whole community. your experience might be different, and that's fine, but it doesn't mean queer is always wrong to use. some people don't identify with the word queer - but other people do, including myself. irl pride events that I've been to have used the word queer just as freely and proudly as they've used the terms gay and lgbt. queer studies is an academic field. as an archaeologist/someone who works in museums, I would consider queer to be the most useful term that we have in discussing the identities of people from the past who would not identify with more specific modern labels, or whose identities we can't pinpoint for sure. it's broad, inclusive, and carries the sense of going agaist hetero/cis/amatonormativity. there's a lot more history here which I won't lecture you on, but queer certainly has a long history of self-identity alongside its use as a slur.

seeing as this is my dr who blog, and I'm assuming you were prompted to send this by the poll I reblogged earlier - it's also a term I find useful in talking about dr who. first of all in talking about the doctor themselves - because they're a queer character from an out of universe perspective, but how do you put 21st century human labels on a character who's an alien, and whose conceptions of sexuality and gender surely don't line up with ours? similarly, it's also the term I tend to use when I'm talking about jamie, because he's from the 18th century. like I said before, I find queer the best label to apply to historical figures, and I apply that to talking about historical characters, too.

on the flip side, there is an association between treating queer as an unspeakable slur and terfs/other exclusionists on this site, which I'm not willing to buy into. again, it has a history as a slur, but so does almost every other term. in the interest of fairness, I'd have to be tagging them all.

if you really do have bad personal associations with the word queer, and you don't want to blacklist it yourself, or you've read all this and just disagree with me - feel free to unfollow. that's perfectly fine. if you really feel that strongly about it, following someone who self-identifies as queer and is unapologetic in using the term both personally and professionally probably isn't for you.

[dylanndr]

TL;DR:

Trans Izzy headcanon is not universally accepted by all trans men and can be traumatizing to some of us (even us Izzy stans!), so don't assume that any given trans man is into it. Figure out where someone is before tagging them in to Trans Izzy stuff.

The long version:

[CN for frank discussion of gender dysphoria]

I understand that Trans Izzy is a popular headcanon, and I understand that a lot of trans guys feel affirmed and validated by that headcanon. This post is not about bursting that bubble. If it's working for you, fine. Do your thing.

I want to make clear, though, that it is NOT a universal headcanon that all trans guys are on board with. I keep getting tagged into Trans Izzy stuff by well-meaning people who assume I must be all about it, when what it actually does is trigger a massive dysphoria spiral that can flatten me for hours or days after.

I was sincerely hoping I could desensitize myself, but it turns out "have you simply tried not having dysphoria" isn't working any better this time than it did when that first therapist I ever went to offered that as a solution when I told him I thought I was trans.

So: Trans Izzy headcanon stuff is a SEVERE dysphoria trigger for me and I can't engage with it at all. I can't look at the art, I can't read the fics or meta. I don't click on Izzy tags or join Izzy groups because of it.

If you've read this blog at all, you know I love Izzy and I have spent a lot of time thinking about him. I have never encountered one single thing about him that gives me trans validation feels (no, not even his height relative to the other characters). I have encountered several things about him that are the polar opposite of my experience as a trans person. Obviously a lot of other trans guys are having a very different experience of the character, but for me, for my own experience there is N O T H I N G relatable about him from a trans perspective, and a number of things that feel actively wrong to me when put into a trans frame. It's like having my gender experience anti-validated.

In addition to the dysphoria, I'm just generally grossed out by the idea of a cis* actor playing a trans character. There's no excuse for that in our current era. [*AFAIK Con is cis, given that he self-labels as an ally when posting pro-trans content. He's clearly pretty chill about the HC. But either way he is not a trans man and should not be playing one on TV.]

So: I am asking people please do not tag me in any Trans Izzy stuff, and please don't make a blanket assumption that all trans guys are into Trans Izzy HC.

Final word: from the stuff I have seen, not a single one of you has the faintest clue how trans men on HRT experience menopause. That's not really your fault, since our culture barely acknowledges menopause in cis women as it is. Finding accurate info on trans man menopause is nigh impossible. So here are some basics:

If you've had a hysto before you would have hit menopause, you will not go through menopause. There's nothing to wind down.

If you haven't had a hysto but are on masculinizing levels of T, you are unlikely to experience any menopause symptoms at all. The T suppresses them. If you've been on HRT for a long time, your body will stop absorbing it as well as you get older, and you could experience some lessened symptoms if your levels drop low enough. But all you have to do is increase your dose and you're back to T overriding menopause symptoms. My doctor specializes in trans medicine, has been in practice for over 30 years, and has had almost none of her trans man patients complain of menopause symptoms in all that time.

As far as sex-in-the-front goes, T dries you out to some extent, menopause dries you out even more. You're almost certainly not going to be making puddles, and you're going to be running through a lot of lube. Get a few barrels of it and use them as ballast if you're going to be at sea for awhile.

[dazed--xx]

Request Guidelines:

1. Please be polite when requesting.

2. I would prefer if you go through my ask, and if you would like to be tagged in the finished product please turn anonymous off so I can make sure you see your request otherwise I’m okay with you staying anonymous☺️

3. I do first come first come first serve so if you do request a fic I will be letting you know what number you are on the list .

4. Please be a little specific, just to help my inspiration, like just saying ‘member fluff’ isn’t really too helpful like what kind of fluffy situation would it be especially since I am typically an angst/smut writer.

5. I don’t do member x member no matter the group, scenario or request. MALE READER is fine and happily accepted

6. I write mostly angst and smut but I can do fluff

7. I usually will let you know if there is a trigger warning on my masterlists and most topics aren’t off limits if you read any of my TW labeled stories you’ll know I’ll write almost

8. Requests can be reactions, scenarios, series, fake texts, blurbs, time stamps, Drabbles etc…

9. I’m a mom so my posting schedule is very sporadic but I usually am good about getting all my requests out and responding to anything

10. Any K-pop group request is welcome and encouraged

11. Nothing is too triggering for me…i write DARK shit that's not fanfiction.

12. MINORS while you are welcome on my page don't request a smut fic I won't be writing it for you also (I was 14 reading smut so I have no place to judge if you read one that's already there) please KEEP YOUR INTERACTIONS WITH MY SMUT FICS TO A MINIMUM!! It would be ridiculous for me to assume that you'll see the Minors DNI thing and actually listen so please don't be doing too much here. I have a couple of minors that follow me and are extremely respectful and I'd like to keep my community that way!

13. BLOG RULE IN GENERAL: I👏 DONT 👏CARE👏 THAT👏 YOU 👏 THINK 👏 YOU 👏 COULD👏 WRITE 👏 MY👏 STORIES 👏BETTER 👏 THAN 👏ME 👏 YOU👏 CANT 👏SO👏 KEEP 👏IT👏 TO👏 YOURSELF ‼️‼️‼️

I love writing requests and just interacting with you guys so please request away

[hexdsl]

Pattern Recognition (by William Gibson)

Yes, I am aware of Mr Gibson's opus.

This book was published in 2003. William Gibson wrote it (I know, Blowing your mind with FACTS!) The last time I read a new William Gibson novel was about 15 years go. Maybe more. It's odd to me that I don't seek out more of his work considering that Neuromancer is one of my favourite books ever.

I should really to a "Book Club" post about Neuromancer specifically. Also, that gives me an excuse to re-visit it, yet again. I didn't want to wite this and have people only read the opening, then tell me how I should read "The Sprawl" trilogy. I am quite familiar with the author. I "love" at least some of his work and I "like" more. So please don't read this thinking its my first ride.

Today however, we are here to talk about Pattern Recognition...

Words. So many glorious words!

William Gibson knows how to write. Fuck me. He knows how to write. He spins a novel in a way that makes it read like poetry without being so boring as to strive for rhythm. His work reads effortlessly cool. Something about the way he puts the words on the page make you "feel" the places and the moods. He does things that will have you swear he is borderline supernatural. He was good when I read The Sprawl Trilogy but now (this one was published in 2003) he's, well.. Back to "fuck me." He maybe the most elegant writer I have ever clapped eyes on. He climbs inside your damned mind with nothing but mystique and a cool that is uniquely his own.

With all that in mind, it may come as an odd redirect that I didn't really "love" this novel. I adore his writing style and the beats that keep the plot moving but ultimately I didn't give a shit about the actual plot. I was there for my fix of his style not for the resolution of the story. I know, an odd mix of feelings.

Whats it about?

Cayce Pollard (Case, I raised an eyebrow too, there is no connection) is a marketing consultant and hunter of new street fashions and movements. She is framed as being somewhat remarkable at what she does.

She lost her father in the 9/11 attack. And I do mean "lost" as in, he went missing but is assumed dead however this is a side story and emotional fuel for the character and not a real part of the narratives main thread.

She has an odd allergy like reaction to brand labels and trade marks. It is assumed that this sensitivity aids her in her job. Allowing her to see through the fake and embrace the authentic. Interesting concept that I really liked.

In her personal life she follows a series of web videos known only as "The Footage" that are around 40 seconds long and are uploaded randomly to assorted locations on the web. Remember this was 2003 so there is some period context for all this. The detailed descriptions of her logging on to the web, and using cyder cafés brought back some very nostalgic memories for me.

Eventually she is hired by "Bigend" yes... that name... The owner of a marketing organisation to "find" the "maker" of the footage.

In 2020 we would consider this whole thing an ARG and the puzzle would be solved by reddit in about an hour. But in 2003, it was a different time. The internet did not have the power and reach that it does now. I think in some ways this hurt the story. Gibson had to do things in such off ways where as now he could use GPS, wifi and global mapping to spin a much more intricate tale I think.

She then makes some logical leaps that baffle me a little. Makes some new friends. Has some out of context memories. Goes to japan to get her hair cut, and then to Russia to wait for a reply to an e-mail. Theres more narrative around this in the book. But my summery is quite accurate. I assure you.

Thoughts?

The main plot, searching for the "Maker" is almost an after thought each event on the journey seems almost an after thought. Mostly we bask in the characters perceptual tangents and indulge in the descriptive wonder that Gibson uses constantly. It's incredibly how consistently palatable the writing is given the density and verboseness of it. I would have been just as happy reading William Gibson's diary I think. Imagine how deeply he could make me feel "putting on socks" and "buying a new jacket."

The logical leaps that Cayce maker though are a little strange to say the least. At one point she really does go to Russia on the off chance some email will turn up and lies to her employer, who is an unexpectedly nice bloke, even though Cayce is convinced otherwise.

If any other writer had led me on such an ultimately pointless journey I would have thrown my Kindle at the wall and tried to forget how to read.

Also the obsessive mentioning of "Buzz Rickson" Jackets drove me mad. For a character who is obsessed with avoiding labels she banged on about her jacket like it was product placement. It actually may have been given that Rickson have a "William Gibson series" of jackets. Yeah. That rubbed me up the wrong way.

So should I read it?

If you have never read Gibson's work, start with Neuromancer. It has it all. Its just THAT good.

If you have already drank from the well of Gibson, and liked it. Yes. Read this. As I said. I loved the journey even though the points along the way fell flat for me.

Closing thoughts sir?

Gibson's effortless cool and affinity for the digital makes me wonder why he doesn't go way more sci-fi than this. It's ultimately a mystery novel with a lot of technology. I want him to dig deep into the future and show me something wonderful.

I won't be reading the next in this series but I had a wonderful time with this little dip.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Day 24, Post #1 by @be11atrixthestrange

Title: I Love Wine Author/Artist: Be11atrixthestrange Pairing: Ron/Hermione Prompt: In Vino Veritas / Songfic (Difficult by Peppermint Ollie) Rating: T Trigger Warning(s) (if any): N/A

(Please note that one lyric has been changed - "Football" is now "Quaffle")

I Love Wine

You can talk to girls who aren't me. 

It's fine, no, I said it's fine. It's not like you're just mine

I'm not jealous,

wait...

Are you still mad at me?

When Hermione opens the hospital wing doors late one March evening, she pokes her head into the room to look before entering, scanning for anyone she doesn't want to see.

It's become a habit lately, especially knowing she might run into Ron. A true extrovert, Ron is never alone. It used to be Hermione always glued to his hip, but not anymore. Nowadays, it's Lavender, and Ron hasn't spoken to Hermione in months. Usually, her run-ins with Ron are accidental, but not this time. After nearly losing him to a bottle of mead, she'll do anything to get him back in her life.

As she had assumed, the Hospital Wing is empty save for Ron, who's sprawled out on a twin-sized bed. Madam Pomfrey has left for the night, and it's after visiting hours, so Lavender wouldn't be here anyway. In fact, Hermione shouldn't be, either, but school rules seem less important now.

She approaches Ron, noting that the hospital wing beds are too short for his lanky frame, and his pale, freckled feet dangle off the edge. The blankets don't reach that far, and goosebumps are forming on his skin. He must be cold. She almost reaches out to tug the blanket over his feet but stops herself. It's a loving gesture, but in the wrong way. It's definitely something Mrs. Weasley would do, and the last thing she wants to be associated with is his mother. Seeing him with another girl has made at least one thing crystal clear — her feelings for Ron are far from familial.

Hermione's gaze travels from Ron's feet to his head, cocked to the side, halfway on a pillow. His neck is bent, his mouth open, and each exhale brings a faint, raspy snore. His entire positioning looks so awkward. She tries to take comfort in the rise and fall of his chest, proof that he's alive, but even still, she can't seem to shake the fear that she's lost him forever.

What if she has? Just because he's alive doesn't mean he'll want her back in his life, not after the way she's treated him. He clearly doesn't need her; he has Lavender. Hermione's jaw tightens at the thought of her pretty, flirty, popular roommate, Ron's girlfriend. Four months of insisting that she's fine with their relationship, and no, she's not jealous have caught up to her. Her throat tightens, and her eyes sting, threatening to cry. Again.

Ron's breathing remains steady, his eyes locked shut, and it seems unlikely that he'll wake up. It was probably a stupid idea to come; he needs his rest. If she wakes him, he might be even angrier at her.

But fresh on her mind is the memory of his first moment of consciousness after being poisoned. The words that slipped from his mouth…

Er-my-nee.

He was dazed and confused, and hardly aware of what he was saying. But it had to mean something, right?

Hermione takes a seat in the chair next to his bed. She'll wait just a few moments to see if he wakes. It would be worth it to hear him say her name again.

She glances toward her bookbag, a bulging puddle of canvas on the floor. Wedged between her quill set and a stack of textbooks is a fresh bottle of wine, a gift from Dobby, plucked right from the kitchen. The bottle's nose pokes out of the top of her bag. Hermione distinctly remembers her anxious trip to the Hospital Wing as she tried to keep the bottle hidden under her arm, moving slowly and cautiously to prevent the liquid from sloshing around and alerting the authorities to her contraband. She could have lost her Prefects' badge if she had been caught with it. Even though it was offered to her by a Hogwarts employee, she should have denied it. Dobby isn't exactly keen on school rules. Or aware of them, for that matter.

And why would Ron want to drink wine when he was almost killed by a bottle of mead? She hadn't been thinking straight. She should just go back to the common room...

An abrupt snore pulls Hermione from her thoughts. It's followed by silence, and Hermione looks tentatively at Ron's face to see if he's woken up. His eyes are still closed, and his mouth agape, a glistening river of drool runs down his chin. She smiles— years ago, she would have thought it was gross, but now, she wouldn't hesitate to wipe it off with her thumb. Oh, how things change.

She should stop staring. How would he react to know someone was watching him sleep?

Unless he's used to it. The knot in her stomach coils further at the thought of Lavender and Ron. Has she ever watched him sleep? They're always kissing in the corridor, entangled on the common room sofa, tugging each other down the hallway in search of empty classrooms. She probably has.

Hermione reaches for the bottle of wine in her bag, if only for a label to read, something to get her mind off of Lavender sharing Ron's bed, giggling as he snores, wiping away a trail of saliva with her thumb, or even worse, her lips.

"Hermione?"

Ron's raspy voice pulls her back, and her cheeks sting with heat. It's not the drowsy, longing, 'Er-My-Nee' from before. This time his tone conveys confusion. Disapproval. He's probably wondering why she's here instead of Lavender.

She chances a smile at him, and her breath catches in her throat at the sight of his piercing blue eyes.

"Hi, Ron," she says, forcing a cheerful, optimistic tone. "I—I brought us some wine."

Ron's eyes narrow as he studies her. He's still mad at her, isn't he? He's going to tell her to leave and go get Lavender instead. She clutches the bottle tighter when it begins to slip through her sweating palms.

Then, unexpectedly, a grin breaks across Ron's face, and Hermione exhales the breath she didn't know she was holding.

"As long as it's not mead."

Let's stay in tonight. Just you and me and a bottle of wine

We can talk about our feelings; everything will be just fine

"I promise it's not mead!" she says, almost too eagerly.

"Good. Don't think I can ever drink mead again! Hand it here?" Ron reaches for the wine.

He's smiling, looking almost giddy to see her. It doesn't make sense. He's so relaxed, as though they haven't spent the last four months fighting. How?

Ron pops the cork with a nonverbal spell, and Hermione lifts an eyebrow at his wandwork. Has she ever complimented him on his charms ability? She makes a mental note to do so more often — considering that they become friends again, of course.

Ron brings the tip of the bottle to his mouth and takes a long swig. Hermione's cheeks redden at the sight, and she hopes he doesn't notice.

He swallows a mouthful of wine with a heavy gulp and hands the bottle back to Hermione.

"You don't mind sharing?"

"Why not? It's just spit."

She prickles at his response. The Ron she knew, pre-Lavender, wouldn't have had such a nonchalant attitude toward spit. Sharing a bit of saliva must be no big deal to him anymore. Great.

Hoping her blatant jealousy isn't written all over her face, Hermione takes a sip, disappointed by its bland, almost metallic taste. She was hoping she'd be able to taste him.

But the wine warms her right up. Hermione doesn't drink often, never, really, and she knows she'll feel the effects quickly. Maybe too quickly.

"So. We have a lot to talk about," says Ron, as soon as she finishes her sip.

Or maybe, not quickly enough.

She nods and looks down at her hands. He's looking down too — she doesn't have to watch him to know that his eyes aren't on her anymore.

A few moments pass in silence, and Hermione figures she'll have to speak up first. How much does she have to explain? How much should she reveal? It seems like the best possible time to share, to tell him everything she almost said over the last four months. Everything she should have said before. They're alone here, why not clear the air?

She takes a deep breath. "I asked you to Slughorn's party as my date, and you said yes."

Ron's scoff confirms what she feared — her statement came off as an accusation. She hadn't meant it that way.

"I know that now," he says.

"But you didn't before?"

"No," he says, reaching for the bottle. "You're pretty subtle. Until you're not." He flashes his forearms at her, still covered with scars from her canary attack.

Her eyes sting with tears again, and she's suddenly sick to her stomach. "I shouldn't have set those birds on you."

"True. You shouldn't have."

No 'sorry's' or 'I forgive you's', just facts, not feelings. It's how they've always communicated, and it's still infuriating.

With a deep breath, Hermione continues, "I was angry at you for kissing Lavender."

A feeling. Not a fact. Maybe he'll follow suit.

"Why?"

Is he really going to make her say it?

"Because I was jealous, Ron. And jealousy makes people do irrational things."

"Well, don't do it again."

Is he asking her not to set birds on him again? "I won't! If you don't—"

She snaps her mouth shut. She almost told him not to kiss Lavender again. She can't ask that of him.

"Don't what?"

"Nothing," she says hastily, burying her expression with another sip of wine.

She watches as a smug smile spreads across Ron's face. "You were going to ask me not to kiss Lavender again, weren't you?"

Hermione keeps her mouth shut and passes the bottle back to him.

"You know it's not fair to ask that."

"I didn't ask that," she says, her jaw stiff. "I stopped myself."

He raises an eyebrow at her. "So you're still jealous?"

"Ron, stop." He's just gloating now. "Let's not talk about Lavender. I just want to be friends again. I'm not asking for anything more."

"Don't you want to know why I kissed her?"

"No—"

"Because I was also jealous."

His answer hits her like a brick. He was jealous. Does that mean…?

"Why were you jealous?"

That's until we start throwing knives. It's amazing how time flies.

Hermione waits for Ron to answer, watching patiently as his cheeks turn crimson. His eyes flit between her and the bottle.

"I was jealous because Ginny said you snogged Krum."

He averts his gaze when he speaks.

"She did?" asks Hermione. "That was two years ago."

Ron shrugs. "Made me jealous."

"So that's why you kissed Lavender?"

Ron nods.

"Even though I had just asked you out on a date?"

"Hermione, I didn't know you meant it as a date! I assumed it was a pity invite."

"You should have talked to me!" she protests. "I was completely blindsided."

"I should have told you how I felt?"

"Yes!"

"Why? You didn't! You just hinted at it, then fucking attacked me with birds for misreading your nonexistent signals!"

Hermione was about to respond, but his retort snaps her mouth shut. He's right. It doesn't matter who started it, but she's the one who got violent. As she searches for a response, their argument pauses, and the air thickens with tension. She can feel Ron's eyes boring into her again, and she pointedly looks away. Why can't she just swallow her pride and say she's sorry?

It's not that easy.

"Maybe I'm better off with Lavender," he says, barely an audible whisper. "She treats me well."

Hermione's heart sinks into her stomach, and her eyes water again. She looks away, willing herself not to cry in front of Ron. She's pushing him away again, and she knows it. His implication cuts deep — he deserves someone who treats him well, and Hermione doesn't.

She can change that; he just has to trust her. But that's a lot to ask, isn't it?

"You're right. Maybe you are better off with her," she says, dejected.

'Cause you're more difficult than trying to fold a fitted sheet

And I'm more difficult than trying to throw a quaffle (at least for me)

You know without you I'd be lost

To her surprise, he grins again. "So that's what you want? For me to stay with Lavender."

Does he really need her to answer?

He hands her the wine, and she stares at it, wondering if another sip would benefit her. She's already feeling the effects.

Eh, why not? She takes another generous sip, enjoying its warm trail down her throat.

"It's a simple question, Hermione."

"Is that what you want?" she asks.

He narrows his eyes and smirks at her, a dangerous combination. With Ron, there's a fine line between anger and flirting, or at least, she thought there was. Before Lavender.

But, Lavender's not in the hospital wing drinking wine with Ron. Hermione is.

She bites her lip to keep from grinning.

"No. It's not." He blurts his answer as though the words have been trapped, waiting to escape. His ears turn pink at his admission, and he eyes the wine in accusation. With a shrug, he continues. "You know what I want."

She's buzzing from the wine — the muscles in her face soften, and her pent-up anxiety about the approaching topic seems to melt away. It feels like there's a clump of wriggling flobberworms in her stomach.

At least, she'd be more willing to play dumb if it saves her the heartache of being wrong. Why can't he just say it?

"I think we want the same thing," she says, summoning her Gryffindor courage, "but I want to hear you say it."

Ron lets out a groan. "Is every conversation we have going to be this difficult?"

Cause you're more difficult than peeling onions without crying

Or pulling on freshly washed skinny jeans

No, I'm not lying; I'd be lost without you

Despite his groan, his shoulders are relaxed, he's sporting a goofy grin, and his answer is clear and direct, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Thank Merlin, the wine is hitting him too. "I want you."

I want you. The words are like music to her ears.

"Still?" she asks. "Even after the birds?" If the roles were reversed, she'd definitely be holding a grudge.

"I don't understand it, but yeah. Still."

She reaches for the bottle — she'll need another dose of courage before continuing. Especially since his next question is easy to guess.

"So," he starts, suddenly sheepish, "do you want me too?"

Hermione sets the bottle down between them and tries to mimic his serious stare from before, but she can't stop from smiling. "Yes. Still."

Silence overtakes the space between them, and Hermione can almost taste the tension in the air. What next? Her daydreams never got this far.

"Then why are you still sitting there?" he asks, an eyebrow raised.

He inches to the side and motions to the space between them in clarification.

Oh, she understood.

His invitation is so tempting, and she almost gives in and crawls into the bed with him, but something stops her. Lavender. He's still someone else's boyfriend.

"Because you have a girlfriend."

"I'm not so sure I do anymore."

"What? Why?"

"Do you really need to ask why, Hermione?" At her confused expression, he continues, "or should I call you Er-My-Nee."

"Lavender heard about that?"

Ron nods, and Hermione knows she should feel sorry for her but… she doesn't. Not one bit.

"So?" he repeats, glancing down at the space beside him.

Hermione rises to her feet and crawls onto the bed, very aware that she's holding her breath. The bed is so small that she can't put a few inches of space between them, so she settles against his shoulder. He reaches for her hand, and their fingers intertwine.

"Is this okay?" asks Ron, caressing her hand with his fingers.

"Yes."

It's another moment she's imagined for years — holding Ron's hand. Not in a 'let me help you up' kind of way, but in a loving, flirtatious, non-platonic way. She's surprised by how easy it is; how comfortably she fits there.

Hermione rests her head on Ron's shoulder, and the bottle of wine in his other hand catches her eye. If only they had shared that bottle four months ago, things could be so different. She pushed him away, and he pushed right back. She could have lost him, yet somehow, he's still right here.

The hurt is still here too. She can tell by the way his breath is shallow and anxious, and the stiffness of his arm against hers that he won't kiss her tonight. Even holding hands is clunky, awkward, and almost too much, and definitely too soon. Yet somewhere in all its dysfunction, it's perfect.

You're for me and I'm for you, you know it's true

The best dysfunctional team that this world has ever seen

The bottle is nearly empty — they've kept drinking but stopped talking. She only notices the stark silence between them when she can hear her own breathing and grows self-conscious that he can hear it too.

She opens her mouth to speak just to fill the silence but freezes. Her lips are too loose from the alcohol, and she better not say anything. He doesn't need to know what's really on her mind. Three little words could push him away, and she just got him back.

It's definitely too soon for that truth.

"Hermione?"

"Hmm?" she asks.

He lets go of her hand and wraps his free arm around her shoulders, encouraging her to lean more of her weight against him. "I love wine."

Hermione laughs. His tone is playful. Knowing. Her stomach flips when he gently squeezes her shoulder as he says 'wine'. If she were sober, she wouldn't dare read too much into those words. Tomorrow, she'll probably wake up and second guess this whole conversation, but right now?

"I love wine, too."

And I love you

[zv5x]

Yandere!Pico • Goth Reader

Ask and you shall receive!

(This is a part two / world-building fic to a past post, read it before proceeding!)

//tw for physical abuse

( :̲̅:̲̅:̲̅[̲̅:♡:]̲̅:̲̅:̲̅:̲̅)

Pico knew all of this had to be a misunderstanding. Every braincell in his mind was telling him you were a traitor, that you were no different than her, but for whatever reason he just couldn't believe it. There was still a chance to save you, that alien bitch hadn't fully tainted your brain yet.

He still had a chance, and he'd pounce on that chance.

With that newfound determination, the red seemed to fade from his vision, allowing him to see his surroundings once more. And there you were, his pretty little angel. You were always a sight to see for sure, your makeup perfectly done and your hair beautifully falling down to the length you preferred it at, Pico felt his heart swell up with love the minute his gaze fixated on you.

It was shocking really, the fear that grazed your soft face, the tears that poured down from your usually bright eyes, but as much as it hurt, Pico had to assume it was her that was making you feel this way. She must had told you some vile things, about you, about him, and it was his job to repurify you. Pico took a deep breath in, calmly releasing his hands from your throat and and moving them to cup your cheeks. Surprisingly, this only made your sobs exponentially louder. Perhaps it was cries of relif? Yeah. They must be, Pico couldn't see them as anything else. "It's okay, (Y/N), you don't have to cry." He hummed, cooing you gently, his hands, while soft, not really doing anything to comfort you in the current situation.

"P-Pico, please, why are you doing this?" You choked out weakly, and Pico, while keeping his smile, couldn't help but arch an eyebrow. What do you mean why is he doing this? Didn't you get it? He's helping you, he's saving you. He's doing everything in his power to make sure your innocent little head can't be tainted by them.

"Oh, baby...." Pico laughed quietly to himself, reveling in your ignorance. "It's all because I love you."

Overly used lovey statements like those usually made him sick, but this time Pico truly couldn't help himself. Sometimes the strongest of love can only be described with sing-songy love clichés and words laced with bitter sugar. It didn't matter if you appreciated them or not, just that his words reached your ears and lingered there for a bit. Pico knows the reason why you're not appreciating him.

You're "goth", as you labeled yourself. Who else used that same label? Her. She did. Her and everyone else who followed her every wish and command. They had you tainted the minute you put on whatever song made you reach this horrific conclusion about yourself. You -

Pico paused his thoughts. His eyes widened. The air felt heavy, your terrified breathing the only audible sound. It took him a moment for it to settle in, but when it finally did, he couldn't contain his laugh.

It sounded sick to you. Insane, wrong, evil even. But to Pico, it was a sound caused by a joyous realization.

All this time, he let himself think that there was no problem. That you were a "good" goth, a different one, just like Nene and Darnell said you were. But they didn't understand. Pico knows what you're like beyond all those sickeningly edgy clothes and that iconic goth makeup look, peaks of you have shone through before. Your kindness towards him, your love for him. All this time, it wasn't that you were one of the "good ones", it was just you crying out to him with the little control you had left.

It wasn't you listening to that music, it wasn't you putting on that goth attire and that makeup, it was her. But thankfully, her control on you wasn't 100%, or maybe Pico wouldn't have realized your true perril so quickly.

Cassandra apparently wasn't satisfied with just murdering his friends and peers right in front of his very eyes. No, she just had to try and use someone like you to aid her, like you were nothing more than a puppet.

That sick bitch. How dare she, how absolutely dare she. It made his blood boil. Someone so sweet and cute, like you, being reduced to this.

Pico wouldn't let you live like this anymore. He wouldn't be able to live with himself if he did. You weren't goth, you were a tool. And that fact alone made him sick. You deserved better, he can give you better. Only he can. Only him.

Pico sighed as he fixated to you on the floor. You were shaking, crying. It shattered his heart, so much so that he had to refrain from crying himself. "Baby, w-what's wrong?" Pico felt strongly that he knew what was wrong, but asking that was just instinct every time he came across you like this. Getting no response, he took a deep shaky, breath and continued.

"I don't know if you can hear me (Y/N), but I'm gonna save you from her. I'll blow her fucking brains out if I have to, I promise."

You looked up at him with fear. You knew exactly who that "her" was, and it scared you to no end. You were always petrified of being compaired to Cassandra for being gothic, as you know just how he felt about her and what she's done to him. In all honesty, you don't even know why you thought dressing goth around him was even the least bit smart.

"You don't have to be scared anymore. I love you. I love you so much." You could've sworn Pico continued rambling on at this point, but you were too fear stricken to hear him. Around the end of his delusional rambles, he noticed his gun was missing from his usual spot.

He laughed nervously, always feeling on-edge when his Uzi wasn't on hand. It took him a few pants pats, and a few head turns, but eventually he looked and found it on the floor across the room. Sighing, he rationalized you must have thrown it across the room in a botched self-defense attempt.

No matter, it's only a few extra steps away. He turned to you and smiled a warm smile. It was sweet and reassuring, but only to him. It was no more than a threat to you.

Pico didn't care to think of what you were thinking at that moment however. You weren't you, you were Cassandra's version of you. And it was up to him to stop her.

It was almost nostalgic, in a way.

After all, this wouldn't be the first time he was the only one around to stop her from her demented bullshit. And knowing her, it probably wouldn't be the last. But he didn't worry himself, soon he'd have you back. And you two could be happy. Settle down, live out your lives, all that shit.

All he had to do was save you.

[bleucolor]

Last time I tried to post a giyushino fanfic and since i navigate myself through Tumblr like a boomer, I accidentally deleted my story. I felt like a whole ass clown but I'm feeling hopeful and I'm back with another prompt using the moon. This takes place in a modern AU where both Giyuu and Shinobu are teenagers. A random drabble for Giyushino which was inspired by being quarantined at home. Hope y'all enjoy and please do send some love 🥺👉👈

Moonlight and Sunrise

Giyuu and Shinobu were friends, however this fact was quite shocking to others due to their Light and Day personas. Tomioka Giyuu was a loner, he had like maybe 2 solid friends being Sabito and Makomo and the others were at max labeled as acquaintances. Shinobu wasn't the most popular one at their highschool but she was well known. She would always be seen alongside her two best friends, Sanemi the oversized delinquent who'd actually bite your head clear off and Uzui the player; who'd get girls left and right. With attention at both sides of the bay it'd be obvious that Shinobu would be well known around their school, being head of the pharmaceutical research club and still being an avid member of the fishing club and the flower arranging club gave Kochou quite the recognition around Kimestu Academy.

Giyuu happened to be in a different class than Sabito and Makomo to his demise thus forcing him to be the lonesome sheep he is. His classmates didn't bother much about him either and nor did he. To him, Kyojurou was too loud, Sanemi was too reckless and Iguro was too emo. He once even referred to Mitsuri as a horse girl to Sabito, but he later concluded that Kanroji was just a rare hybrid of a Taki girl or a hot cheeto girl and Himejima was that one person who believed in horoscopes too seriously, sometimes he'd do tarot readings for his other classmates which Giyuu honestly found quite cool. Whereas Shinobu was someone Giyuu would've honestly never associated in the first place and truthfully speaking their duo wouldn't even exist if Shinobu hadn't approached him first. Shinobu was more of a bully to Giyuu primarily but later Giyuu had opened up to her about how he thought of her as a close friend and that softened Shinobu's heart and strengthed their bond. Although Kyojurou was the smartest kid in the class; even securing his title as class president; Ubuyashiki sensei always made sure to pair up Shinobu and Giyuu together during class projects thus leading to frequent study sessions together. Towards the end of the year, Shinobu became the third person in the entirety of Kimetsu Academy to be close to Giyuu, the 1st and 2nd being Sabito and Makomo and 4th being a special freshman called Tanjiro.

Even though his classmates were rather annoying, Giyuu never did hate any of them. In fact it was hard for Giyuu to genuinely hate anybody in the first place but then there was this one person and that person was Shinobu's oh so charming boyfriend, Douma. Giyuu saw through his pretty boy personality when she first introduced him. He ranted about it to Sabito the very night, complaining about how he's all fake and it's all just a matter of time before that facade comes of. Sabito didn't miss a beat and told Giyuu to suggest a suitable partner for Shinobu instead, to which Giyuu had no answer to. And as per said prophecy it didn't take long for Shinobu to see Douma's true intentions and she decided a queen like her deserved better than this.

It was finally summer break and Giyuu and Shinobu had finally completed 12 painstaken years of schooling along with the others of course. Shinobu decided to host a little get together and hang out with the people she cared about one last time before they drifted apart into adulthood.

Giyuu reached the mall at about 8 pm and walked straight to the food court since Shinobu informed him that's where they would be. To his horror, Shinobu had invited a great deal of people, including those who didn't like him, example being his whole class. As always his presence was ignored by his classmates but thankfully amidst the groups of people, Giyuu noticed a particular red head named Sabito, aka his best friend. Sabito and Makomo were both invited too. Giyuu and Shinobu's friendship caused Shinobu to become good friends with Sabito as well, both of them developed a special bond while they both took turns into bullying poor Tomioka. Shinobu was sitting next to Kimetsu Academy's mascot boy, Inosuke, who looked way too soft for his harsh demeanor. Shinobu had a soft spot for this freshman. She had told Tomioka of how he filled the gap of her need of a younger brother. Unlike Tomioka, Shinobu had a lot of sisters; Kanae who was the eldest, Aoi was a year younger than Shinobu and then came Kanao who was 2 years younger than Shinobu, and lastly were the triplets, Naho, Sumi and Kiyo who were just middle schoolers. Inosuke was a bratty kid who'd frequently get into trouble for having a foul mouth but he was close to Tanjiro and weirdly Kochou's little sister, Kanao's best friend. The butterfly sisters loved having brutes as best friends for some reason, it didn't make sense but somehow worked out for them.

"Inosuke, promise you'll leave that nasty reputation behind."

"I ain't making any promises till you promise you'll send me 3 boxes of foreign chocolate every month." he crossed his arm and looked the other side.

Shinobu softly smiled at him, she was definitely going to miss this kid alot. "Alright Inosuke, I'll make sure to send you the latest ps4 games as well."

Inosuke's eyes lit up as he shook hands with Shinobu to confirm the deal. A subtle smile tugged at the corner of Giyuu's lips.

Giyuu went over to the table Sabito and Makomo were seated at and took a seat opposite to Sabito. It didn't take long for Shinobu to note his presence and she went over to their table and took a seat next to Giyuu. "Aww Tomioka-san, look this is a good farewell party for you, all your friends are here right Infront of you." she snorted.

Giyuu sent her a painful expression. Must she do this even on the day when he supposedly bids her farewell? "Tanjiro's not here though."

"So Kochou, did you get your acceptance letter?" Sabito tried desperately to break the awkward silence.

"oh yes I did, luckily I got into the university I wanted to. I'll be shifting to Canada a few months from now."

"That's so cool. Congrats!" Sabito sent her a beaming smile.

Giyuu was quiet, he was silently studying Shinobu, maybe this was the last time he was going to see her. She was wearing a Yellow ruffle top that was paired up with skinny ripped jeans and her 5 pound white filas, her hair was tied into a half ponytail; she looked cute. Alot of people would've assumed Giyuu's sense of fashion was probably as bland as his personality but surprisingly the guy had drip. He wore a plain black shirt paired up with dark denim jeans and chains to accessorise. Giyuu was an eboy. His sense of fashion honestly made him look quite intimidating but it added a spice to his laid back bland persona, maybe that's why Shinobu had taken an interest to him in the first place.

And almost too soon the party had came to an end as the clock struck 11 PM. Shinobu was probably tired of getting squeezed everytime she got hugged goodbye. One by one, everyone started to leave and before they knew it, a very ominous pair was left behind, and that pair being Giyuu and Shinobu.

"Sabito-kun is a very nice lad. You have great friends Tomioka-san." Shinobu complimented.

"He's nice because he walked Makomo home at 11pm?"

"Well yes, that's rather a very gentlemanly behavior. Don't you think so?"

"You know I've been doing that to you in every single one of our study dates right?" Giyuu raised an eyebrow, right now he seemed like a puppy wagging his tail to receive pats from its master.

Shinobu's cheeks flushed a pale shade of pink when Giyuu had referred to their study session as study dates mistakenly. It was just a slip of a tongue that's all. "My Tomioka-san, are you waiting for me to compliment you?"

"It's nice to hear you say something good about me once in a while Kochou." he pouted like a child.

"If that's what you want...then alright. Walk me home one last time Tomioka san."

"No." he blurted almost too bluntly causing Shinobu to frown almost too evidently. "I'll take you home on my bike instead, this time."

Shinobu was quite taken aback to his sudden kind gesture. Her stomach swelled up with a weird feeling. A mix of happiness with sadness that this was the first and last time she'd get to ride behind his bike.

Giyuu had disappeared for a split second into the parking lot leaving a timid Shinobu pondering. He did mention he really liked bikes. Weirdly as a highschooler, Shinobu always wanted to cruise behind a boy's motorcycle at least once during her high school years and well this was her chance. In 3 minutes Giyuu showed up in a Ducati xdiavel Infront of Shinobu. He patted on the seat next to him gesturing her to come take a seat behind him and so she did after admiring Giyuu and his totally hot ride. Not gonna lie his attire went really well with his bike, she almost felt like she was starring in some music video as they cruised into the dark streets.

Shinobu shrieked almost losing her grip as Giyuu hit a speed bump.

"Kochou." he called out to her, getting her attention.

"Hm?"

"Hold onto me, or you'll fall." his words left Shinobu all flustered and hot but she was quick to oblige, she didn't want any broken bones right before her flight. She also silently thanked the gods that it was too dark for Giyuu to make out her flushed red cheeks.

"Tomioka-san? When did you get this sweet thing?"

"It was a gift from my dad."

"But what if you have to move away for uni? What will happen to it then?"

"I'll take it with me, I haven't gotten a number plate for it yet so I'll just ship it using a ferry or something."

Shinobu wrapped her arms around his waist tightly. She wondered if she was the first girl to sit on his bike. She also wondered about the other girls who would eventually later sit on his bike.

"Kochou, are you in a hurry to go home?" Giyuu suddenly asked.

"Not really, mom and dad are staying at my grandparents' place in the country side and Nee-san just wants me to spend my last few days as free spirited teenager."

"Spend this night with me." he suddenly blurted.

"What?" she choked on her words. Giyuu had become way to daring these days, saying whatever he wanted and bruising poor Shinobu's heart with his choice of words.

"Come on, I wanna show you something." he reassured her in a soothing tone.

"Alright Tomioka-san, as long as you don't get us into trouble I'm good."

He soon parked into a quiet neighborhood. Jesus, this placed seemed abandoned for God's sake, what did he have to show her here? the grudge or babadook?

"Tomioka-san are you sure about this place." Shinobu sent him a nervous look as she tugged at the hem of his shirt.

Giyuu looked into her eyes as he held his hand out to her,"Trust me Kochou." and so she did. They now walked into this dark neighborhood, her tiny hand still enclasped with his large ones. Giyuu knew Shinobu wasn't a big fan of places like these. Places that screamed paranormal activity but the fact the she obliged quite quickly did make him realize how much she trusted him and deep down it made Tomioka Giyuu happy.

"isn't this place restricted or anything? Are we allowed to come here?" Shinobu asked almost too loudly.

Giyuu quickly covered her mouth with his large hands and pulled her into a dark alleyway. Shinobu was quite confused at his sudden antics. She sent him a raised eyebrow as he pinned her against a stone wall, his hand still covering her mouth and almost immediately a Patrol guard walked right past them on the streets. He quickly let go of her and pressed his index finger against his lips gesturing her to stay quiet. "it's alright as long as you don't get caught." he whispered to which she rolled her eyes. He held her hand once again and walked to the biggest house in the area, the house was 4 stories high and Giyuu seemed to have a weird tactic of slipping by the backdoor without getting noticed every time.

"So Tomioka-san, you wanted to show me an abandoned house. Very funny."

"They're not abandoned, they're on sale." He replied walking towards the kitchen.

Shinobu followed him precautiously, "And you're treating it like you own it."

"Only for a while." he replied as he took out 2 bottles of flavored milk. He handed Shinobu the strawberry flavored one knowing that was her favorite and kept the melon flavored one for himself.

"Tomioka-san what's the meaning of this?" she asked one last time, quite getting tired of his shit, really.

Giyuu didn't reply but held her hand as walked upstairs, practically forcing her to follow behind him. They soon reached the attic.

Shinobu was a little taken aback seeing all the clutter of furnite up there. Giyuu pulled up the glass window revealing a beautiful full moon night, how come Shinobu didn't notice that before? And then Tomioka started doing something stupid, which was climbing out of the attic window. Shinobu quickly grabbed his arm as a result of an involuntary reflex, "Are you stupid, do you want to die?"

Giyu was now standing on the roof of a 4 story house with a nerve wrecked Shinobu holding his arm. "Trust me Kochou." he spoke holding out his hand to her.

She shifted her gaze from his moonlit eyes to his hand. Did she trust him with her life? Yes, yes she did. She placed her hand on his and he carefully helped her outside. "Tomioka-san I don't see any point in all of thi-" Shinobu was cut off with the picturesque view of the moon and its bright stars right Infront of her.

Giyuu took a seat next to her, observing the view alongside her. He slowly sipped his melon drink while Shinobu quietly enjoyed her strawberry drink. His gaze shifted from the scenic beauty Infront of him to the other scenic beauty next to him (im a little gay for Shinobu sorry) and there she was Kochou Shinobu, the stars reflected in her eyes as she absent-mindedly stared into the sky being lost in her own void and Giyuu just watched her, she looked even cuter now.

It didn't take long for Shinobu to catch him staring which almost made him choke his drink.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"Yeah." he replied after his coughing fits died down. He decided to lay down and enjoy the beauty the night had to offer and Shinobu copied him, laying down next to him. Giyuu had quickly slid his arm towards Shinobu, allowing her to rest her huge head on his arm.

"Tomioka-san." she called out to him making his gaze lock with hers.

"Hm?"

"Thank you. I needed this."

He sent her a soft smile as he tucked behind a strand of her hair behind her ear, "You're welcome."

"You know Tomioka-san, since you've been craving compliments I guess I'll finally give you one." Giyuu softly observed her, wondering what she'd say. "If i were to describe you to a person Tomioka-san. This scenery would suffice."

"Hm?" he raised an eyebrow, "How so?"

"It kinda matches with your personality you know, It's as quiet and mysterious as the night but nevertheless if you observe closely it has all this beauty to offer." she smiled at him, and this time it hurt him. It made him feel weird. It didn't take long for Giyuu's cheeks to be flushed red under the silver moonlight. Giyuu couldn't reply to this, heck he couldn't even force any words through his mouth. Shinobu smiled and gazed back at the stars once again. She was hit a wave of familiarity, this was her and Giyuu's relationship, it was a bit complicated but it was a bit too beautiful to lose. She started to feel her stomach coil in sadness realising this was the last possible memory she'd spend with Giyuu or maybe they could meet up during the holiday seasons and have remakes of adventurous nights like these.

"Tomioka-san, did you get your acceptance letter?"

"Yeah I did."

"Where are you going?" she wasn't facing him, she didn't want him to see her sad expression.

"Same place you are." Giyuu tried his best not to smile while he said that.

Shinobu quickly turned to him in surprise, "That's a horrible joke, Tomioka-san."

"I'm not." he said, pulling out his phone from his pocket and scrolling through his email to show her his proof. And to Shinobu's surprise there it was, and it was legit. Shinobu was quiet, this was what she wanted but in was a bit too much for her to take in all at once.

"Thank God, now I don't have to worry about you not having friends and getting left alone." she snapped back almost too quickly,

"Shut up."

The air was light and heavy at the same time, Shinobu was a bit too happy to be falling asleep but it didn't take her long to doze off in Giyuu's arms, or on Giyuu's arms. Ouch.

He mentally cursed himself for suddenly exhibiting simp behavior, but today was Shinobu's day and he just had to oblige even though he had to sacrifice his arm.

It didn't take long for Giyuu to doze off alongside Shinobu. Falling asleep under a star-filled sky did have a romantic touch to it.

Giyuu was the first to wake up as the sun slowly started to rise amongst the clouds, creating a magnificent hue of purple and orange. Thankfully Shinobu had shifted from laying on his arm to laying on his chest instead which was definitely more comfortable, but surely Shinobu wouldn't be able to sleep long against his chest with his heart pounding like that.

Giyuu took a moment to appreciate a sleepy Shinobu alongside the beautiful sunrise. Her sun-kissed face was just art in its own form. If Giyuu was anywhere as skilled as Sabito in art, he'd use this masterpiece lying beside him as a prompt and then that's when it hit him. Shinobu basked in the golden rays of sunlight, Shinobu was the golden sunrise in early mornings and if Giyuu were to describe her to someone he'd say something along the lines of; "Shinobu you're the morning sunrise. You're annoying but your presence brings warmth." he whispered softly patting her head. And as most cliché scenes this was no different, much to Giyuu's ill fate, Shinobu was seemingly awake the whole time, and she heard every bit of that.

"That's quite harsh Tomioka-san, but I'll take it." she replied causing a frantic Giyuu's heart rate to sky rocket.

With the sun out, Giyuu and Shinobu realised they better be getting home now since they both had guardians to explain their whereabouts to. It didn't take long for them to pack up and reach Shinobu's house. They shared a small hug on Shinobu's front porch along with Shinobu thanking him for giving her an unforgettable journey. This was a nice end to her highschool life. With a wide grin plastered over her face Shinobu walked into her house to 5 very amused and interested sisters.

[the-sha-official0hazanon]

The Package (Writers Wednesday)

You don't get just one, but two oneshots that haven't been posted on my blog yet! How exciting! (Not really.)

You tossed your keys on the accent table by the front door of your apartment as you walked in, toeing off your shoes, too, before you went into the living room.

Your roommate was sitting on the sofa. He shifted awkwardly when he saw you.

“Hey, Harrison. What’s up?” you asked, brows knitting in confusion at the way he was looking at you.

He took a deep breath. “I was expecting something in the mail, didn’t check the label, and accidentally opened your package. I’m so sorry.”

From his reaction, you immediately knew what he was talking about. Fueled by liquid courage and curiosity, you’d ordered a Bluetooth app controllable vibrating butt plug.

“Don’t worry about it. Mistakes happen,” you told him, trying to keep your voice even and not seem as mortified as you were.

“I didn’t know you were seeing anyone long distance,” he commented, tone unreadable.

“I’m not seeing anyone right now. You know I would’ve told you if I was. I was tipsy and really wanted to know what it was like and thought the app thing sounded cool. Now that I’m sober, it kind of scares me as something to do by myself, and I’m not sure if I’ll even...” you trailed off.

“You don’t have to do it alone,” he blurted out.

“I’m not seeing anyone. I know there’s always Tinder, or picking someone up at the club or bar, but-” You paused as his words sank in more. “Wait, was that an offer?”

His adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed heavily. “Would you, uh, like it to be?”

You bit your lip, considering. Harrison was completely and totally gorgeous, and exactly your type on top of that, but he was also your roommate. “This isn’t the sort of thing that you can do and just take back. I’m not going to potentially end up homeless if we do this, and then things end up weird between us after?”

“Of course not!” he quickly and fiercely answered. “I would never in a million years kick you out, promise.”

The way he was looking at you, those unbelievable pale blue eyes of his already full of desire and a bit blown with lust, made your stomach flip. “Okay, yes.”

“Yes? I didn’t expect you to say yes.” He got up and fumbled a bit as he opened the unlabeled cardboard box, grabbing the toy out of it.

You softly laughed. “A bit eager, are we?”

“I’ve always been an arse man, and I might or might not have been admiring yours for, well, it’s been months now,” he admitted.

Your cheeks flushed at the compliment. “Thank you. C’mon, let’s do this before I overthink it and change my mind.”

He led you to his room, opening the package and looking at the contents, while you sat down on his bed and watched him.

After reading over the instructions, he grabbed his phone, turning on some music as he installed the app and set everything up.

“Shit, it has to be charged,” he complained, plugging the toy into his USB wall charger.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his impatience. “Oh no, we have to wait a little bit. Whatever will we do to pass the time,” you said dryly, starting to undress without making a show of it.

“Hey, what if I wanted to take your clothes off for the first time?” he asked.

“It wouldn’t be the first time. You already did that when I came home wasted and threw up all over myself on St. Patrick’s Day,” you pointed out.

He laughed as he pulled his shirt over his head and discarded it on the floor next to him. “What a sexy thing to bring up.”

You shrugged as you pushed your panties down your legs, letting them pool on the floor at your feet before you stepped out of them, sitting back down on the bed.

“You’re stunning, love,” he told you as his eyes roamed over your body.

“Thank you.” You let your eyes do the same, admiring his defined muscles, and eventually settling on his erection. It was more on the slender side, but longer than you’d expected. Not that you thought about your roommate’s dick all that often, at least not after that first month or so of living with him.

“So, you like what you see?” he asked.

“Fishing for compliments? You’re already well-aware that you’re hot as hell, and if you’re asking about your dick? Yes, I like it. I’m looking forward to getting well-acquainted with it.” You chuckled. “Anyway, how do you want this to go?”

He paused, contemplating. “I want to get you off a couple times first, get you nice and relaxed before I finger you open for the toy. It’s definitely not too big for a beginner, but I don’t want to put you off of anal play for the rest of your life with a bad first experience. What’s your favorite way to cum?”

“I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have your mouth on me,” you confessed.

“And I’ve always wondered if you taste as delicious as I imagine you do.” He dropped to his knees in front of you and pulled your legs over his shoulders, tugging you to the edge of the bed.

You moaned when he parted your folds with his tongue and licked a broad stripe from your entrance up to your clit.

He pulled back with a grin, licking his lips. “You’re even more delicious than I imagined.”

“Thanks,” you responded, smiling down at him before he dived back in.

If nothing else, Harrison was definitely good with his mouth. He worked your clit with his tongue and lips expertly, moving his hand up to press two fingers inside you at the same time, pumping them in and out in a rhythm matching the amazing things he was doing to you with his mouth. You were in heaven.

Your orgasm built within you quickly, barely giving you enough time to tell him, “I’m almost there!”

It was a testament to his skill that while you were trembling and pulsing in your pleasure that you hadn’t even noticed him push his pinky finger into your ass.

After you came down, you became aware. It wasn’t painful, or even unpleasant, really. Just another something you could feel your body pulsing around as your orgasm subsided.

“Still want to try the toy?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Alright, let me get some lube,” he said, getting up and going over to his nightstand.

It felt strange when he withdrew his finger, but not enough that you didn’t want to keep going.

He returned with a bottle of lube and a condom. “The condom is just in case you wanted to do anything else. No pressure. I’m entirely capable of taking care of myself after we’re done here, if need be.”

“Even if it’s not right now, I’m going to take you up on the anything else later, if that’s on the table,” you told him.

“I was hoping you’d say that. It’s definitely on the table,” he responded.

You watched him, rapt, as he coated his fingers liberally in the lubricant. 

He slid his index finger between your cheeks and pressed it against your hole, rubbing the lubricant around a bit without actually penetrating you. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” you said, swallowing.

“It might feel weird or sting a little. Please let me know if you want me to stop,” he requested as he pushed his finger forward until it slipped inside past the first knuckle.

It did sting a bit and definitely felt weird, but you didn’t really want him to stop. 

His free hand rubbed your side soothingly. “You’re so tense. Relax, angel. This won’t be good for you if you don’t.”

“I’m trying, but it’s hard. Maybe if I…” You reached down to rub your clit, still very sensitive from your recent orgasm.

“Do you want me to do that for you instead?” he asked.

“Yeah,” you agreed, dropping your hand to rest against his arm.

His thumb moved up to rub slick circles around your clit while he simultaneously worked his long finger into your hole in small increments.

It was easier when you had something familiar to focus on, and more arousing when you thought about how naughty, and dirty, and forbidden it was to have your roommate using his fingers to get you ready for a vibrating butt plug. And what if you didn’t stop there? What if you let him slip the plug out and replace it with his dick, let him fuck you in the ass for the first time?

Your thoughts launched you over the edge, leaving you a moaning mess. You definitely noticed this time when he pushed his middle finger in next to his index finger while you were still in the midst of your climax, but the sting was dulled by the pleasure. Even the sting itself wasn’t as bad as it had been initially, not bad enough that it overrode the thoughts that were going through your mind.

“Look at you, taking my fingers so well, pretty girl,” he praised you as you were coming down from your high, scissoring his fingers slightly. “How are you feeling?”

“I think I like it,” you admitted. “Even when it hurts, it’s kind of in a good way?”

He smiled. “That’s what I want to hear. You’re much more relaxed now. The toy is pretty slim, so you shouldn’t need a lot more prep for it.”

“I think I want the toy now,” you told him. “If it’s done charging.”

“Should be close enough to done.” He withdrew his fingers.

The strange sensation came back, almost an unpleasant emptiness.

“Yeah, it’s done,” he said, returning with the small black plug and his phone.

He grabbed the bottle of lubricant and thoroughly covered the plug with it, using too much in your opinion, but you trusted his judgment. Too much was probably better than not enough.

“Still sure you want to try this?” he asked.

“Definitely,” you confirmed.

He lined up the toy with your already stretched hole, carefully pushing inward.

The tip went in easily, although the toy and lubricant felt cold against your heated flesh, making you shiver a bit. There was more pressure and resistance as the plug neared its widest point, making you grimace a bit with the sting as he continued to press it forward until it finally popped in completely, flared base resting against your skin.

“Gonna turn it on now.” He grabbed his phone, and the plug buzzed to life.

You jumped, surprised at how strong it was even on what you assumed was a low setting. After you adjusted to the new sensation, you found that it was intensely pleasurable, but you still wanted something else.

“You look like you’re enjoying yourself,” he commented.

“Oh yeah. Would you fuck me, too?” you requested.

“Let me just do something real quick first,” he told you. Music started playing from his phone, and the plug vibrated in time to it. “This alright?”

“Yeah. Need you inside me now, Harrison. Please,” you begged. 

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He grabbed the condom, tearing open the wrapper and rolling it down his length.

You scooted up the bed to make more room for him.

He climbed on top of you and positioned himself, easily slipping inside you, and immediately groaning loudly. “Holy shit, the vibrations and how tight you are. It’ll be hard to last.”

The double penetration felt like nothing else you’d ever experienced. You’d never been so full, or felt so desperate to be fucked thoroughly. It was hard to speak. “I’m already over halfway there myself. Think you can last long enough to get me off one more time?”

His hand slipped between your bodies, and his fingers circled your clit quickly. He started to thrust into you to the beat of the music.

It was obvious how hard he was trying not to finish too soon.

Fortunately for both of you, when the song switched over to a dance track with a quick thudding bass line, it drove you over the edge. 

The pleasure was indescribable, finally realizing what people meant when they talked about seeing fireworks during an orgasm. You could feel your body clenching and pulsing tightly around both Harrison and the relentlessly vibrating plug.

Now that you were over the edge, he came with a shout, fucking into you hard and fast as he rode out his climax. He winced as he started coming down because the plug was still vibrating through you, against his oversensitive cock.

You felt him reach down and gently pull out the still vibrating plug, tossing it somewhere off the bed. While the lack of unwanted stimulation was a relief, that bizarre sensation of emptiness came back.

“That’s always weird, by the way. Not something that just goes away if you do it more,” he told you. “How was it?”

“Better than I expected,” you answered, honestly.

“One time thing, or something you want to try again?” he continued.

“Instead of the plug, I really want to feel you fuck me next time. I thought about it a lot the whole time,” you admitted.

“Give me about, oh, maybe 15 minutes?” he estimated.

“I think we can make it less than 10,” you said, moving down to take his soft cock into your mouth.

“Christ,” he moaned as you licked and sucked on him. “Probably more like 5.”

[laceyeb]

Has it occurred to you that maybe most people in your real life - family, friends, co-workers, FB - already suspect/know that you're bi (or prob assume lesbian) and are waiting for you to fully come out in your own time frame? It's not their place to respond to tattoo hints, clues, whatev. It's YOUR responsibility, not theirs, to come to terms with your sexuality. They're most probably respecting your journey and giving you the time you need. Don't smugly underestimate people, assuming that (1)

I’ve been sitting on this one for like 36 hours and trying to decide if I was going to reply or not. Normally I ignore these ones, though I don’t get too many like this.

But I’ve got good news and bad news for you and it’s all the same news: I’m going to answer this one.

I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt and just assume you’re trying to be helpful, but I also didn’t want to ignore you and have you think that the things you say here are good or right or okay. Because nothing about what you said implies that you were trying to be helpful or supportive in any way.

First of all, I’m allowed to do and say and think and post anything I damn well please, but I suppose you’re also allowed to have and share your opinions, even if they’re kind of garbage-like opinions.

Now…

Yes, it has occurred to me that people may already know/suspect. I’m definitely not as open in real life as I am here, but I’m not exactly exerting effort to hide or pretend. I talk a lot at work with one of my coworkers about the LGBTQ YA novels we both love to read. (Obviously this in itself doesn’t mean anything, but still.) I’ve also talked to her about the next conference I want to go to about LGBTQ youth in schools and talked to her about the research project (also related to LGBTQ youth) I want to do for my masters program. (Which I should probably be working on instead of talking to you, but here we are.) If I choose to deliberately come out to anyone at work, she’s the one. It’s also been quite a while since my mom has told me I “need to find a boyfriend.” This might just be a coincidence, but it doesn’t feel like it somehow. We’re not a “talk about our feelings” kind of family. I think I would be perfectly fine coming out to my family. They wouldn’t be like running down the streets in celebration, but they would probably be just fine with it. But we just don’t talk about things like this. Feelings and love and relationships and such. I know that sounds terrible, but I don’t mean it to sound terrible. It’s just the way we are. So even though I know I could come out to my family, I just don’t know how.

I’m not putting the responsibility of coming to terms with my sexuality on anyone but me. I’ve been on this road for two and a half years. (Probably almost to the day, because it was mid-April 2016 when I first had a “Do I just think she’s cool and awesome and pretty because she is, or is this something more?” thought.) And I’m still trying to figure it out. Me sharing more things recently I think is just me trying to get more comfortable calling myself bisexual (as opposed to another label). Sometimes I’m still unsure. But I feel like if I am more obnoxious and open about it, I’ll get more and more confident. Despite everything I’ve said to the contrary, I don’t actually need anyone to come to terms with my sexuality. I genuinely do not care about other people accepting me and “knowing” ”as much as I pretend I do. But also why shouldn’t I care? Why shouldn’t I want other people to know? I’m working so damn hard to be proud of who I am. You better believe I want other people to know it. I just haven’t figured out how to say it yet.

You almost had me until the “smugly underestimate” thing. (I don’t know what it is that you think I’m assuming because I didn’t get another part to your charming opinion, which is fine with me.) I don’t know what it is I’ve done or said to portray smugness. Feel free to let me know because I’m genuinely confused. I also don’t know how I’m underestimating anyone. Is it the “people on facebook don’t care” thing? Because I think you’re taking that way more seriously than I intended. I’m not crying into my pillow at night because no one liked my pictures. I’m really not. I don’t actually care that much. I pretend I care a lot more than I actually do. Really.

I don’t know if you’re someone I interact with frequently and consider a friend or if you’re just some random stranger giving me unsolicited advice. I’m assuming the latter, because the people here who I consider friends simply show me support and words of encouragement and leave it at that. I don’t know if you’ve gone on this kind of journey, but I’m tempted to assume you have not based on how you’ve presented your “advice.” If I need advice, I’ll ask for it. Otherwise, just stick to positive words of encouragement or say nothing at all. That’s all I need.  

This is my only safe place to talk about all of this. Don’t take that away from me by criticizing the way I’m expressing myself.

[chubunny]

I've been suspicious that I have autism for a couple years but never took it seriously because I don't act out like kids you see on tv or in movies. I just read yesterday that autism in girls is usually hidden very well so I started heavily researching it yesterday. I took an Aspie Quiz which almost 100% confirmed that I have it or am somewhere on the spectrum. I feel calm about it but I'm scared. What do I do?

I know how bad it sounds that I took a test to confirm my autism suspicions but this is a 150 question test that psychiatrists use. It’s not like a buzzfeed quiz or something

Same anon: if I had it it would make my whole life make sense

I didn’t like or reblog your post about answering messages once you have a laptop because I want to remain an anon. I’m scared of what my friends and family might think, I’m not upset with you. Just today a friend of mine who had never EVER said anything offensive to me in the time that I’ve known them called autistic people “stupid” today. I’m so so scared.

First and foremost: I just want to say that I believe you when you say you are autistic. I wish someone had said that to me when I was going through the journey of questioning myself. I want you to know that I believe you and that it’s okay to call yourself autistic. It seems like you did a lot of research, but even if you discover it was something else later on, it’s still okay. You aren’t hurting anyone by finding comfort in the label. If it isn’t autism, it’s likely something with similar symptoms. 

I also want you to know that your experience is valid.  I was in a similar spot as you and so many autistic people have been in the same situation. It’s normal to feel scared, but just remember that you aren’t alone. I feel like when you’re autistic, you figure out very early on that something about you is different. I just didn’t know what. I was misdiagnosed with selective mutism and developmental delay as a child, but those things didn’t really encompass all of my symptoms or what I was going through.

I considered the possibility of Autism, but I was like you in that I didn’t fit the version of an autistic person that you see on TV or in advertisements for organizations like Autism Speaks. I had a friend who was officially diagnosed and we had a lot of similarities, but I wasn’t 100% like her. My mom talked with her mother about the possibility of me being autistic, but she said “Your daughter isn’t like my child” and so I just assumed I was making it up in my head.

Later on, I started coming across Autism recourse blogs and blogs run by people who were actually autistic (and not just parents or organizations claiming to speak for us). Through them, I started to learn that Autism was actually a spectrum and that everyone on this spectrum had different abilities and present their symptoms differently. I met a lot of autistic people and they were all different, but a lot of them were just like me!

As for what you should do - that depends entirely on you and your situation. I think first and foremost, you should surround yourself with other autistic people and the autistic community (either online or in person). Other autistic people were the biggest help to me in coming to terms with being autistic. They made me feel valid and loved and like I wasn’t alone.I also think it would be wise to drop all friends who have anything negative to say about autistic people. Unfortunately, there are many people out there who preach love and acceptance, but then turn around and spit in the face of disabled/neurodivergent people. These aren’t the kind of people you need in your life. You could certainly try talking to this friend and explaining to them why their words are harmful, but most people like that already have their minds made up about us. It’s not always worth the fight, so please don’t be afraid of letting go if you need to. You deserve friends who love and accept you for your autism.You could also take the time to learn about autism from other people who have it. It seems like you’re already a bit familiar with it and how it affects you, but there’s always something new to learn esp since everyone experiences it differently. I still find myself learning new things. One of the most empowering things I’ve learned is that there are words to describe the things we experience. If it wasn’t for the autistic community, I would have never had the words to describe things like sensory overload, shutdowns, stimming, executive dysfunction, autistic burnout, etc. I would have been left feeling confused and misunderstood.I recommend this channel for anyone wanting to learn about their autism or the words that might describe their experiences.I know that this is a lot to take in and so I’ll try to wrap this up. On one final note: I know the possibility of others judging you can be scary, but keep in mind you don’t have to come out as autistic to someone if it makes you feel uncomfortable or vulnerable. Coming out as autistic is very similar to coming out as gay for me in that it’s a very person decision. There are a lot of pros and cons to consider, but ultimately it’s up to you. I hope this was helpful and I hope you were able to get something out of it. Let me know if you have any questions or just need to talk. 💖