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gureishi · 4 years

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Ohhhh, requests? Requests!!!! ❤️

We all know and love SE and the Choi family (Mc, Saeyoung and Saeran living together in the bunker).... But what about. Other way arround?

Saeran after ending, with saeran and saeyoung making amends, and you finally befriending and getting to know the true person behind 707.

Im happy with whatever ideas you have for this, but if you need more guidance... A scene between saeyoung and Mc, talking? Saeyoung thanking mcfor making saeran happy and feeling like he failed as a brother for not protecting him, and mc being all sweet as she is reassuring him that it's OK and that they are happy now and just fluffy??????

Gosh, I wrote a lot, sorry.

Oh wow. I ADORE this request. Thank you for bringing me this sweet idea. ♡

I love envisioning their lives together post-AE, and it was so much for fun me to imagine this tiny little slice of that.

after

Saeyoung & Reader (platonic); Saeran X Reader (background), G, words: 2355

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

Today there’s one of those early-winter snows where the flurries get stuck in your hair but the ground’s not white and beautiful, just cold and damp. The parking lot is nearly empty—apparently no one else wanted to go out today. Personally, you can’t understand why. You love the way the sky’s a bright white and how the biting wind makes the tips of your ears pink.

Saeyoung, who’s been walking a few paces ahead of you, turns around in time to see you stop and catch a snowflake on your tongue. He raises his eyebrows; he’s got his hood up and there’s a light dusting of snow on top of his head, like powdered sugar.

“I was gonna ask if you regretted coming along now that it’s snowing, but I guess I have my answer.” He’s got a complicated look on his face, like he’s not sure if he’s allowed to laugh at you or not.

“I have no regrets!” you sing, and then he does laugh, shaking his head indulgently.

“Come on,” he says. “Your shoes are getting wet.”

“Your shoes are getting wet. Also your head. Who goes to the store in just a hoodie in the winter?” But you run to catch up with him, splashing in the little puddles that have collected in the uneven pavement.

“It was the hoodie or the floor-length pink fur coat, so I went for the hoodie,” he says, and you can’t tell if he’s joking or not.

The automatic doors slide open for you; he grabs a shopping cart from the assortment parked just inside the door. You walk beside him, feeling a little awkward. Grocery store etiquette, you think, is such a personal thing. Saeran, for instance, likes to go slowly through the store, lingering in each area—looking for inspiration, sometimes checking recipes on his phone. You like to move through the store at random, picking out items that strike your fancy. These methods work surprisingly well together—perhaps because Saeran finds it charming when you come running up to him with a strange new fruit in your arms.

Saeyoung, it seems, has neither a list nor a plan. He pushes the shopping cart lazily with one hand, heading vaguely toward the nearest aisle. You’re tempted to guide him in one direction or another, but you also don’t want to be a nuisance. This is his shopping trip—he was the one who announced he was going to the store; you were the one who’d insisted on tagging along.

“Are you sure?” he’d asked then, hesitating, one hand already on the doorknob. “You don’t need to! I can get whatever you—”

“I want to,” you’d said firmly, jumping off the couch where you’d been lying with your feet in Saeran’s lap, reading a book. It wasn’t that you needed anything in particular from the grocery store or that you didn’t trust Saeyoung to find whatever was needed for the house (though, in retrospect, it wasn’t that you did trust him, either). It was just…

In the few precious days that you’d been living in the bunker with the brothers—in a world that was suddenly so peaceful you couldn’t quite believe it—you’d begun to realize something: in spite of the hours of phone conversations and chats you’d shared with the enigmatic and charming 707, you actually hardly knew Saeyoung at all.

“So, uhhh,” he begins, a bit uncomfortably. You glance at him askance; his cheeks are pink. “What do we need, anyway?”

You laugh—you can’t help it. “What were you going to buy if I didn’t come with you?”

Saeyoung shrugs, looking down. He’s definitely blushing. “I was gonna…wing it.”

Maybe it’s his inexplicable shyness with you and maybe it’s your genuine love of grocery shopping, but your confidence is bolstered. You take the cart from him and he relinquishes it gratefully, falling into step behind you.

“First we’re going to get produce,” you tell him, and he nods eagerly, bouncing on his heels. He honestly looks excited that you’ve taken the lead; you make a mental note about this. At home, Saeyoung is often in charge—of little things, like what movie you’ll all watch together—because he is boisterously enthusiastic about everything and you and Saeran are more subdued. But here, without his twin, outside of his domain, he is suddenly much less confident.

You select a few types of squash; he watches somewhat reverently. “How do you know what to get?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“Practice, I guess,” you say. “I have in mind a couple of recipes we can make this week, and there are some staples it’s always good to have…” You pause, realizing something, your hands full of squash. “Saeyoung, can I ask you something?”

“What? Yeah!” He responds a little too readily and you know he’s trying to mask his awkwardness. It’s endearing.

“You lived alone for a pretty long time,” you say thoughtfully. You survey the selection of cabbage. “Didn’t you…buy food? To eat?”

He laughs, runs a hand through his already-messy red curls. “God Seven doesn’t need food to live!” he sings, and it’s in the tone of the 707 you’d developed a strange friendship with during those days you were at Mint Eye. You know now that Saeyoung was there, even then, under all that false positivity and diversionary teasing.

“You do, though,” you tell him. You hand him a head of cabbage.

Your firm tone seems to quell him. He looks down at the cabbage.

“I ate snacks, mostly,” he says, a little more quietly. “Sometimes Vanderwood got frustrated and brought me other things to eat.”

You turn away to hide the look in your eyes from him. These poor, poor boys.

“You two!” you explain in mock-frustration, pushing the cart to the next refrigerated shelf. “So you were living on junk food while he was keeping himself alive with caffeine pills. What am I going to do with you?”

Saeyoung bounces behind you, still holding the cabbage.

“Feed us!” he says. You roll your eyes and tear a plastic bag off the role beside the shelves.

“Put the cabbage in the bag,” you tell him. He does.

You gather a few more fruits and vegetables and Saeyoung asks about all of them; you’re amused when he doesn’t know what a persimmon is.

“So besides chips and stuff, then, what do you like to eat?” you ask him, pushing the cart into the large, open area where meat and fish sit on ice, row after chilly row.

Saeyoung hums thoughtfully, peering at a particularly large fish, complete with eyeballs and everything. “This is creepy,” he says. “Can we get it?”

“We…can,” you say. “But that doesn’t really answer my question.”

He walks a little ahead of you, and he looks at each different type of meat with such curiosity. They’re both like this, you think—so full of wonder over basic, mundane things. Saeran was in awe the first night the three of you settled in on Saeyoung’s huge couch to watch TV together. And now here is Saeyoung—who’s had considerably more freedom than his brother—staring at an assortment of different cuts of meat like he’s in a museum.

“I’m not sure,” he says finally, tilting his head to the side. “I love chips, and, you know, fish-shaped buns…”

“But is there a meal you like? Maybe from, I don’t know, the past…?” You regret the words as soon as they’re out of your mouth.

Saeyoung laughs bitterly. “Not from childhood, if that’s what you mean.”

“Right,” you say. “Yeah. I knew that. I’m sorry.”

He comes back to your side, leans on the cart. “It’s okay,” he tells you. “I don’t mind.”

“Still,” you say. “Sorry.” You steer the cart toward a display of different chicken parts and he pads along beside you—like an obedient dog, you think.

“What’s the difference between…” he bends over, peering at the packages. “Breasts and thighs?”

You giggle. “You tell me.”

You watch as his face turns red, clashing wonderfully with his hair.

“Um, l-let’s get the…thighs, I guess,” he chokes, and you stifle your laughter with your hand.

“Thighs it is.”

He throws the chicken into the cart with his face turned away and you grin. 707 was a tease, but it is easy to fluster Saeyoung.

You move through the aisle of bottled sauces in companionable silence. You hold up a bottle of bottle of soy sauce and he nods enthusiastically; he does the same for the fish sauce and corn syrup. To test him, you hold up a banana ketchup—which you’ve personally never actually tried—and he gives you the same affirmative head bob.

“Saeyoung, do you know what this is?”

He tilts his head to the side, reads the label.

“Banana ketchup? Yum!”

You sigh. “Fine.” You toss it in the cart; maneuver to the next aisle.

“You didn’t even have soy sauce or salt or anything in your house when we moved in,” you say. “There was literally nothing in the cabinets.”

He strolls along beside you, running a finger along the rows of different kinds of pasta. “It never occurred to me.”

“We were kind of surprised,” you add, tossing a big bag of rice into the cart. “We bought a bunch of stuff, before we…left.” You stumble over the words; gears spin frantically in your brain. The words hang heavily in the air between you. Before we left to find you. Before we found you and then lost you again.

He’s silent for a moment and you know he feels the change in atmosphere, the way time seems to have slowed down.

“Hey,” he says finally. He’s got one arm draped over the side of the cart and his posture is a little stiff. “Did I ever thank you? I mean, properly.”

You bite your lip, keep walking. Your face feels hot. Suddenly, you’re not really looking at what’s on the shelves.

“You did,” you say softly. “But I feel I should be the one thanking you. You’re the reason we’re both alive, you know.”

Saeyoung stops, and you almost crash into him. He spins around, and he’s got a hard, determined look in his face. You’ve seen that look before.

“No,” he says. “Nuh-uh. You saved us. You protected him. You did what I didn’t…couldn’t—”

Ah. Your heart’s pounding against your ribcage. Of course it’s here, you think—in this narrow aisle, next to hundreds of loaves of bread, that he’s saying this to you.

“Saeyoung, he knows that you would die for him. You tried to.”

He stuffs his hands in his pockets, walks away from you, lingers at the end of the aisle. The change in him is remarkable. There’s no hint of the awestruck boy, bouncing up and down over the wide selection of steaks, in this morose, bitter man.

“I didn’t succeed, did I?” he says. A mother with a small child seated in the front of her shopping cart comes down the aisle and you back up into the shelves to let them pass. You wonder if they can feel how thick the air is.

“No, you didn’t,” you say. “And thank god, because where would we be if you had?” He finally looks at you then, and you’re taken aback by the wild look in his eyes. It scares you; you take a step toward him. “You fought for him,” you tell him. “And he fought for you.”

His fingers drum a frantic pattern on the metal shelf beside him. He’s got the look of a cornered animal, ready to bolt. You’ve seen this expression before—though on a different Choi brother.

“I was supposed to protect him,” he says, so quietly you can hardly hear him. You take one more step. Another. Finally you’re at his side, and he flinches, but he doesn’t run away.

“You did,” you say. “And he’s safe. All of us are safe.”

He doesn’t say anything.

“We’re going to buy this stuff,” you tell him. “We’re gonna pay for it, and get in the car, and go back home, and he’ll be there. Waiting for you.”

Saeyoung shuts his eyes and takes a long, slow breath. You do it with him. He runs a shaky hand through his hair again and you give him a little nudge with your elbow. Eyes still closed, one side of his mouth twitches upward—a half-smile.

“Sorry,” he mutters. “I didn’t mean to…”

“I know.”

“I just feel like I owe you…”

“Me too.”

His eyes open; they’re clearer, bright and gold behind his glasses.

“You don’t owe me anything,” he says, and it sounds like a question.

“I love him,” you say. “So, I think I do.”

Saeyoung shakes his head; the color’s back in his cheeks now, and he grabs the cart, pushing it out of the aisle. You jog to catch up, grab onto the side just as he’d done earlier. Hold on tight.

“You love him a lot, don’t you?” he says. You can see him in your peripheral vision—his eyes are twinkling.

“More than anything in the world,” you reply.

“Me too,” he says, echoing you, and you grin. You picture the look on Saeran’s face if he could hear this conversation—the way his green eyes would soften, the way he’d get that adorable little dusting of pink over his cheeks.

Saeyoung turns the cart abruptly, maneuvering into the next aisle with an expertise you didn’t expect—you shriek, barely holding on. He cackles.

“We need this!” he says, and you turn to see him pointing at an alarmingly large box of some sort of purple cookie you’ve never seen before.

We don’t, you almost say, but you hesitate, because what’s the harm?

“Sure,” you say, and you toss them in the cart.

Saeyoung smiles. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says. You know he’s not talking about the stupid cookies.

You beam right back at him. “I am too.”

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

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enby-jetstar · 5 years

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Hello papa. I'd just like to let u know that my pardner is in the dd fandom now and the first fic they're reading for it other than my. Unfinished work. Is destruction :) even though I still haven't finished it

Oh my god really??? That's awesome!! Tell them hi from me and that i hope they enjoy both our fics haha!! ✨😄✨

#answers #kkid nothingg #enbee fam #it's cool btw im currently getting caught up on a bunch of fics lmao #take your time with both reading and writing!!

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lesbienneanarchiste · 6 years

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I've been bingeing max kirin's ace attorney LP and the way they fawn and thirst over the characters is so hashtag relatable. The only downside is when i figure out how to play the trial before they do and im screaming in my head "THAT'S NOT THE EVIDENCE TO PRESENT YOU BEAUTIFUL, TALENTED FOOL"

#ry watches trash #also if you write and want to hear someone talk about writing who isnt a cishet i would /highly/ rec m kirin #they give good advice anyway but it is honestly so refreshing to hear a queer enbee talk about writing #ive only read one of their books but i own almost all of them and thats tragic bc i adored the one i did read #the only downside is that they seem to be bad at finishing series they start RIP

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reidgraygubler · 4 years

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sunflowers, daisies, lilacs, dahlias (spencer reid/reader)

Title: sunflowers, daisies, lilacs, dahlias

Requested: yes, was a request someone sent to @imagining-in-the-margins, but I took it of her hands :) (So i get this is sorta hard to do but i was wondering if you could write a spencer x nonbinary (gender-neutral pronouns) reader where reader isn’t out to the team yet but spencer finds out somehow and the reader is afraid he’ll reject them but instead he confesses his feelings and just starts info dumping about third genders in other cultures and the roots of binary america, etc. just like fluffy and accepting. once again, i get it if you don’t want to/can’t but that would be awesome)

Couple: spencer reid/non-binary!reader (they/them pronouns)

Category: fluff

Content Warning: swearing (if any), misgendering, usual criminal minds case work stuff, bi!spencer, lgbt+ history lesson, platonic cuddling (or is it?), kissing (not platonic), Doctor Who season 12 spoilers (weird, I know), afab!reader

Word Count: 4,110

Summary: reader comes out as non-binary to their best friend, Spencer, after they notice he changes the pronouns he uses to talk about them and after the team misgenders them.

A/N: pom (aka @imagining-in-the-margins) posted this in her discord and said if someone had any ideas for this, we could have it. and i loved the request so i took it off her hands. im also non-binary and only out to a few friends, so this piece is dear to my heart. also, i wrote reader as afab, since that’s also me, but also the request says that reader isn’t out to the team yet, and i had to give reader a gender. so im sorry about that. that’s where the mis-gendering comes in. spencer’s nickname for reader is bumblebee when they’re friends, but once they start dating it’s honeybee… bc reader is… enbee… thank you all so much for the support! i really do appreciate it. check out my masterlist!

{***}{***}{***}

It was a new day at work. A new day, a new me… Kinda, not really. It’s still old me. I’m just trying to figure out the new me. I think that makes sense. It makes sense to me, so that’s all that matters, I think.

Maybe today was the day I came out to the team as Non-Binary. That’d probably help my feeling of garbage. Not even my own family knew about my little secret. So that’s been something I’ve seriously been thinking about, telling everyone that I was Non-binary and preferred they/them pronouns.

I kept my head low as I stepped off the elevator and onto the floor of the BAU. The good news is, people weren’t rushing around like I was partly expecting them to be. The bad news is, when I got to my desk, there was a stack of files, waiting to be looked over. And the unfortunate part was, I wouldn’t get to get through half of them, because something told me there was a current case we had to go on.

That something being Emily Prentiss standing outside her office, looking for everyone on the team. I looked up at her with a pout as she nodded towards the conference room. I looked back at the stack of files before grabbing my go bag and going up to the conference room.

Everyone was already there, waiting for me. Although, I was usually late, in a sensible fashion. So I quickly took my seat beside Spencer and remained quiet as Penelope and Emily told us about the case.

{***}{***}{***}

“We can go to the most recent victim’s house, interview the siblings,” Spencer spoke up as we both walked up to Emily. I looked up at him and nodded, silently agreeing that I could go with. It’s not like I had anything better to do anyways. Tara and Luke were at the newest crime scene. David and Matt were with the ME. And Emily was about to go interrogate the suspect. So, going with Spencer would give me something to do.

“She’ll have to conduct the interview,” Emily looked up from the file she was reading and right at me. I looked down, away from anyone who was possibly looking at me. Getting mis-gendered was something I was used to, by now anyways. But, for some reason, this time it really bothered me. Emily doesn’t know, it’s fine. It’s mostly my fault anyways. And, I guess it bothered Spencer too, because the expression on his face shifted from normal to… annoyed.

“Of course, they can do the interview. They’re the most like the victim,” Spencer looked at Emily before looking back at me. I looked at him and smiled softly. It was more of a nervous smile than anything else. A change, and correction, in pronoun… I hadn’t exactly told anyone that I preferred different pronouns, I had honestly gotten used to the unfortunate misgendering.

“I can do it, I’m perfectly capable of it,” I smiled at Spencer then over at Emily. So much for a change.

“Then that’s settled, she’ll do it,” Emily looked up at Spencer and smiled before allowing us to leave. I dropped my shoulders as I glanced at Spencer, who was glaring daggers at Emily. He wasn’t usually one to glare at his superiors, especially Emily.

“We should get going, don’t you think,” I whispered as I looked up at Spencer. He finally looked down at me and nodded. “And, you can do the interview, if you want. I get that I’m a lot like the victim’s sister. But, you do interviews better than me,” I laughed and shook my head.

“We can do it together. That’s the only way you can get better at interviewing,” he returned the laughter before following beside me.

“That’s true,” I smiled at him.

{***}{***}{***}

“I know we always do this, but thanks for letting me stay the night after hard cases,” I looked over at Spencer as he got in his car. I readjusted the grip on my bag as I looked away from Spencer.

“Of course, sleeping over at someone’s house after a case makes it easier to relax, especially after hard cases,” he looked over at me with a smile, “We can order Chinese food if you want,” he added as he looked back at the road.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that,” I nodded with a smile. Sometime between solving the last case, and the jet landing I gained the courage to bring up what happened before the interview. You know, the whole they/them thing… With Spencer. I still don’t know how he knew to change my pronouns.

He was talking about something, it sounded like an episode of Doctor Who. I sort of felt bad about that too, because I was hardly listening. I was one of the only few people who actually watched Doctor Who with him, and thoroughly enjoyed his commentary.

“And then the Doctor, who, have I mentioned is a woman now, is in fact the Timeless Child. Did you know that?” He glanced at me as he went on. Again, I felt bad because I wasn’t totally paying attention. “Of course you knew that, we watched the episode together,” he continued to ramble about the episode.

“Spencer,” I spoke, my voice just loud enough for him to hear.

“Mhm, what?” he glanced over at me for a quick second. I looked at him, my mouth opening and closing a few times before actually saying what I was thinking. Which was...

“How did you know?” I asked, my voice a bit of a whisper. I was a little bit scared. How did he know? Sure, Spencer knows everything. But I’m not exactly… Out to the team, let alone Spencer. I don’t think I told him.

“How did I know what, Bumblebee?” Spencer glanced over at me for a brief second. I sighed deeply as I looked over at him.

“You used 'they'… When you and Emily were talking about me and the interrogation… You used 'they' and 'them' when you talked about me… How’d you know? I haven’t told anyone…” I whispered as I looked over at him. He stayed silent for a long time. I wasn’t too sure what he was thinking, but it made me very nervous.

“I saw you at the library with a book about gender/sexuality history and science… And I saw you looking at a non-binary/gender non-conforming forum the other day. So, I connected the dots,” Spencer looked over at me as he pulled to a stop at the red light. I swallowed roughly as I looked at him. “I didn’t mean to off-”

“You didn’t offend me, Spence,” I whispered and shook my head before dropping my gaze from him. My fingers fiddled with the seatbelt across my lap. I could feel my heart going a million miles an hour, and no matter how hard I tried to calm it… nothing worked. “I just… I haven’t used the words out loud before… I’ve haven't told anyone… I mean, I’ve just figured it out myself,” I shrugged again. I glanced at him as he started going again. “I’ve always known I didn’t really identify as… Ya know… And I guess just recently I finally put a name to it,” I sighed as I pressed my head into the headrest. Spencer glanced at me, again. He was obviously trying to keep his eyes on the road, but he was very concerned about our conversation.

“You’ve never said it out loud? Or told anyone?�� He asked, clarifying what I had just said. I swallowed roughly and nodded.

“Yeah, I just…” I stopped, letting my words trail off. My thoughts ran wild. If I just said that I was non-binary, it’d make my life easier, I’d be so much happier. So, why haven’t I just come out and said it? “So, say it now. It’s just me,” Spencer whispered as he looked over at me for the briefest second. My heart stopped with his words, and suddenly my mind was quiet. “No one else to hear."

“What?” I spoke, my voice a breathless whisper. I looked over at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Only if you want to. I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.” Spencer’s voice was soft as he spoke. I looked over at him, feeling my stomach do an anxious flip.

“What if it changes the way you think about me?” I asked, feeling my throat tighten up around the words. Out of all of the friends that I had, Spencer was the only one I didn’t want to lose. In a weird way, I felt like he understood me. Like we were both the outcasts of the team, for our different reasons.

“Why would that change the way I think of you?” Spencer looked up at me and I shrugged. I stared at him, feeling my face twist up in confusion. Even his face had some confusion on it.

“I don’t know. People usually…” My words trailed off again, not knowing what I was exactly wanting to say to him. “You’re not mad at me? Or hate me or anything…? Right…?” I asked, my voice wavering slightly in fear. Fear of what? I was scared he would resent me. It wouldn’t have been the first, or last, time someone resented me. So, why would I expect him to not resent me?

“Why would I hate you? Because you’re finally more comfortable with yourself? Or want to be more comfortable with yourself?” Spencer looked at me as he furrowed his brows. I looked down at my lap and shrugged. “You still haven’t said it, but we’re talking about it like you did,” he pointed out. I dropped my shoulders as I looked over at him.

“You really want me to say it,” I laughed dryly. Spencer smiled at me and shrugged.

“Only if you want to. Just think about how much better you’ll feel,” he offered. I looked down at my lap and sighed.

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” I looked back up at him and smiled, “I’m non-binary.” I could feel a certain weight get lifted off my shoulders as I looked at him. Spencer also had a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at me. Like, he also seemed happy with my words.

“There’s nothing wrong with that, you know,” Spencer smiled at me as he pulled into the parking lot of his apartment building. I glanced at him before laughing. “I’m being serious,” he chuckled lightly.

“I sure hope there’s nothing wrong with that. You’re the one who encouraged me to say it!” I laughed as I unbuckled. Spencer returned the laughter before looking over at me.

“Then, why do you care what the team thinks?” Spencer asked as he searched for his apartment keys. “Their opinion shouldn’t matter. It’s your life,” he shrugged and looked up at me once he finally found his keys.

“Everyone on the team is all my friends and all my family…” I whispered as I looked over at him, “I don’t know what everyone will think,” I knew he wanted me to say it out loud to the team, but I was avoiding it. It’s not that I’m not ready. I just don’t want him to think differently of me.

“When has anyone on the team thought bad of you, Bumblebee?” Spencer asked again before parking the car. I swallowed roughly and looked back down at my lap. Of course, when I actually cut my hair short the first time… I had gotten a horrible haircut and everyone commented on it. “No one’s going to think anything bad about you if you come out,” he reassured. I sighed deeply as I looked towards the ground.

“Yeah, but I don’t care about them Spencer,” I rolled my eyes. I rolled my eyes because even though I do care what the team thinks, I think I care more about what Spencer thinks about me. But, I didn’t want to tell him that.

“Then, why were you so worried about it,” Spencer looked over at me before getting out of the car. I stayed in the car for a moment, silent with my thoughts. He’s got a point though. Why was I so worried about it? Of course, the team was my family. I don’t think I could risk losing the team for being… well, me. Maybe Spencer was right. Who am I kidding? Spencer’s always right. About everything. Maybe I should just tell the team… I’d feel a lot better.

I stayed quiet as we walked into the apartment building. In fact, we were both silent. Which was a rarity in our friendship; one of us was always talking, and it was always Spencer. He always had something to say. I wondered what he was thinking about in that head of his. Until I didn’t have to wonder...

“Native American people have a third gender, generally called two-spirit, where the person takes on roles more or less attributed to the opposite sex or both sexes,” Spencer suddenly started an info dump. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that I read this exact thing in a book not too long ago. But, it meant so much to me that he wanted to tell me this.

“When europeans came along, they came with the strict gender binary rooted in Puritism, which put heavy emphasis on community and the importance of procreational (heterosexual) marriage within,” he paused to glance at me, probably to make sure I was still listening. And I was. There would be nothing to stop me from listening to him.

“Once the colonizers became a country after the american revolution, they wanted to get as far away from britain as possible. Part of this came with separating themselves from the effeminate man of Britain, whom they saw as feminine and dainty. As a result, they made the American Man, who is basically Teddy Roosevelt in that he is rugged, bold, strong, brutish, daring, and able to survive on the frontier and provide for his family,” he continued as he unlocked the door to his apartment. It was nice to be in a familiar place that felt like home, and felt safe.

“In comparison, the woman was supposed to be the American Housewife who stayed at home, cooked the meals, and raised the children. Thus, the American binary,” Spencer continued his info dump, clearly not knowing he was talking outloud.

I just stared at Spencer with the utmost adoration in my eyes and face. A small smile grew on my lips as he continued to ramble and info dump about stuff I was newly introduced to. I don’t know why I didn’t tell him sooner, I’m sure he would have been a big help. “That’s very interesting, Spencer,” I smiled at him and cocked my head to my shoulder. Spencer looked at me, a slight panicked look in his eye.

“I’m… I’m sorry, was I rambling?” He stopped talking and looked at me after a moment of him talking. I shook my head, silently telling him he wasn’t rambling, even though he totally was. At this point we had parted ways, but still held the conversation between rooms, and across his apartment, him being in the kitchen while I stayed in the living room.

“Anyways… I could continue going on about it all. How WW2 influenced the LGBT community and how Nuclear Families messed it all up too,” he spoke before stepping out of the kitchen and leading me to his bedroom.

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows. I was honestly surprised with that tiny tidbit of information. “Go on,” I raised a brow as I looked at him. I got comfortable on the bed while I waited for him.

“Yeah! The advent of urban areas provided the perfect place for sexuality and gender identity expression,” he continued talking as he stepped into the bathroom to change, and even continued while in the bathroom, “Many single people suddenly began moving from rural farms with family and religion to urban apartments on their own or with someone of the same identity/gender/sex,” he finally concluded before stepping out of the bathroom. I looked at him and cocked my head to my shoulder. I didn’t have anything to say after he rambled on, so we both stayed silent as we got comfortable in bed.

“How do you know so much about gender identity and the LGBT community?” I asked, turning to face him more. Spencer looked at me with a nervous smile before looking out to the blanket spread out over us.

“Oh, I, uh… I did a lot of research when I saw you in the library… And, after I saw you on the forum,” Spencer looked at me and nodded. I could sense that he was lying, and he knew that I could sense it. So, I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m sure this is the exact reason,” I smiled before shifting down the bed to get comfortable, “No other reason?” I looked up at him.

“Nope, no other reason,” he looked down at his book before shaking his head. I could tell there was definitely something, and I could tell he wanted to tell me. But, I won’t force it out of him, just like how he didn’t force it out of me.

“Well, if you have something to tell me… I won’t force it outta you,” I looked over at him with a smile. Spencer glanced at me before grabbing for a book on his nightstand. I shifted down the bed and looked at my phone. “No one’s going to think anything bad about you,” I glanced at him again, repeating the exact things he said to me early in the evening. Spencer glared at me before looking back in his book.

“You’re the worst,”

“You’re worse than me, Spence,” I laughed as I looked at my phone. I grinned as I browsed random social media. “It’s okay, I get it,” I shrugged before falling silent.

“I suppose it’s only fair,” he spoke out loud after a moment of silence. I looked up at him, watching as he shifted in his seat. He closed his book before looking down at me, “I guess I’ve been in the same boat as you for a while… Not knowing what anyone would think if I came out, fearing that they’d hate me or judge me,”

“Spencer, you’re the most loved person on the team. No one would ever hate you or judge you,” I sat up before turning to look at him. Spencer looked up at me and nodded. I’m glad we could both agree on that. If anyone hated Spencer Reid, I can guarantee that they’d have a whole fleet of FBI agents on their ass. “You can trust me with anything, Spencer,” I whispered before reaching out for his hands. He looked down at where our hands sat before cocking his head to the side.

“I already trust you more than anyone on the team,” he smiled and chuckled with a nod, “I’ve never told anyone except for one person,” he whispered as he looked up at me.

“That’s okay,” I shrugged as I looked at him.

“I’m bisexual,” he whispered, his eyes dropping away from my. I stared at him, taking a deep breath. A small smile tugged on the corner of my lips as a worried look grew on Spencer’s.

“Was that so bad?” I whispered as I fell forward to give him a hug. Spencer laughed as he embraced me. “It felt good, didn’t it?” I backed away from him slightly. Spencer smiled and nodded.

“Like a weight off my shoulders,” he laughed as he looked back at me, “Thanks for that,”

“No, thank you, Spencer, I really needed you and your wonderful words of wisdom… I’ve been struggling with my sexuality a lot, ever since I was a teen really, and you just being there helped,” I smiled at him as I got comfortable in the bed. With that, we fell into a comfortable silence. Sleep wouldn’t find its way to us anytime soon. I think we were both still reeling on the adrenaline of the day.

But then, I started thinking about our conversation in the car. When I had mentioned I was worried about him (or anyone else) thinking differently of me. I mean, that’s been a fear of mine for years. Someone can go from loving you to the ends of the earth to wanting to be on the furthest end of the earth just to be away from you. So, my fear was totally valid. I didn’t want to lose my friendship with Spencer, or anyone on the team.

I quickly glanced at Spencer, noting that he was still quietly reading his book. He seemed at total peace with, well, everything. How did he do it? How did he get out of his head after a rough case, and after such a serious conversation? There were too many things I wanted to know, and too many questions I wanted to ask… Why not just ask them?

So, I did...

“Earlier, when you said me being non-binary wouldn’t change the way you think of me… How do…” I paused for a minute, trying to figure my next set of words. Because I could say something wrong, and it’d be the end of everything. “What do you think of me?” I looked up at him as I spoke. He smiled softly and nodded. It was probably a mistake, asking him what his thoughts were on me. I could only think of the worst. Well, I shouldn’t say the worst possible. Worst case scenario was that he was faking it all and he actually hated me. Well, don’t be too hard on yourself.

“Well, you know,” Spencer shrugged as he shifted closer to me. I looked up at him before leaning away from him.

“No, I don’t think I do know,” I stared at him, furrowing my eyebrows. He looked at me, dropping his book to his lap and slumping his shoulders slightly.

“I love you… Okay? I love you whether you’re they/them, she/her, he/him, I don’t care, as long as you’re happy. If you’re happy, then I’m happy, because that’s all that matters to me. Your happiness,” he rambled for a minute. I just stared at him, feeling my shoulders relax as he spoke. My heart rate raised as he continued to talk about how he really felt about me, and I wished he said something sooner… “Hearing Emily misgendering you, and knowing what was going through your head… Sucked… It sucked watching! You deserve the best things…” He continued on, not caring that he was still rambling.

“Spencer,” I whispered, resting a hand on his shoulder to gain his attention.

“And it’s ridiculous how long I’ve been in love with you too! I should have said something sooner but I didn’t! I don-”

“Spencer!” I shouted this time. It wasn’t an angry shout, though. No, the giggles in my voice and joyful smile on my lips told a different story. And that seemed to get his attention, considering he stopped talking and looked at me. His eyes scanned my face, landing on the joyous smile on my lips.

“Yes?” He asked softly. I nearly fell into his body, and face, as I let my excitement get the better of me as I tried to kiss him. Spencer laughed as he lifted his hands to my shoulders to make sure I didn’t crash into him.

“I love you too,” I smiled as I looked up at his face. His eyes landed back on my face, his smile becoming soft as he looked at me. The expression his face held showed me that I was now his everything. And, it was a new feeling. I would never get used to a feeling so… grand. But, it was a feeling that I loved, and knew it’d be around for a long time. “What do you think the team will say?” I asked, looking at Spencer as he cupped my face in his hands.

“About what, Honeybee?” he retorted, his voice a soft whisper.

“About us, you and me being, well, you and me,” I tried to bite back my smile but failed when Spencer smiled back.

“Who cares what they think… I just care about you,” he smiled before pulling me back in for another kiss.

“I think I like that answer."

taglist: @itsmyblogandillreblogifiwantto , @thebluetint

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sugarmaplewings-fics · 4 years

Text

Fire Alarm

Pairing: Kirishima x crushing!reader

Warnings: Cold nights and shirtless Kirishima. Also some group snuggling??

Author’s Note:

This drabble here is short and sweet, featuring my favorite boyo Kirishima! It’s partially based on this panel from the manga (and my own thirst lol). I know there’s some faulty logic here and there in this, but I had fun writing it so here we are. Anyways I hope you like it! There’s not a lot of romance in this one >:( but I had fun thinking about it.

I simp for this man and also I love him. Just in case that wasn’t clear.

Love you!

-Sugar

<<<─────── ∘°❉°∘ ───────>>>

The only thing worse than waking up to your alarm clock in the morning is waking up to a fire alarm in the middle of the night.

It took a moment for the blaring sound to fully wrench you from your sleep. By the time you’d registered what the sound even was, your door was already being thrown open.

“(L/N)! We need to evacuate now! Don’t you hear the emergency alarms?!”

You were just able to make out the form of Tenya Iida in your doorway. Through your daze, you noticed that he was still wearing his striped blue pajamas. Groaning to yourself, you slid out of bed, half-asleep. You hadn’t even bothered to leave behind your blanket, letting it drape around your shoulders as you shuffled out of your dorm room.

Iida ushered you and a few other bleary-eyed classmates down the stairs and out of the Heights Alliance building, and it wasn’t until he held the door open that you remembered just what time of year it was.

“Seriously?!” you complained as a blast of cold air hit you. Grumbling, you followed the small crowd of your classmates to the other group of those who were better at getting out of bed.

“Is that everyone from 1-A?” Iida’s voice rang out.

People glanced around for anyone who might be missing, and after a few seconds, they mumbled an affirmative.

“What are we going to do now?” Mineta whined, shivering just about as much as everyone.

“We have to wait for Aizawa sensei to give us the okay that we can go back inside,” Iida said, chopping the air.

“How long is that going to take?” Ashido asked.

Iida turned to the building, inspecting it. “Well, I can’t see anything from here, so it was probably a false alarm. But we can’t be certain until it’s professionally checked out, so no one’s going in until one of the adults tells us it’s okay to.”

A few more of your classmates grumbled at his ruling. No one made an attempt to argue, however, since they knew he had a point.

Suddenly, you heard Uraraka gasp a few feet away from you. “It’s Tsu!” she said, trying to hold up her friend’s limp body. “She’s going into hibernation! It’s too cold.”

“Here.”

A voice beside you brought warm bubbles rising through your chest. Even in the dark of night, you could make out the spiky red hair of your good friend and long-standing crush, Kirishima Eijirou. You watched with everyone else as he stripped off his oversized sleep t-shirt and offered it to Uraraka.

“Let her take this,” he said. “It’s not much, but maybe it can help.”

“But, Kirishima,” the brunette protested, “you’re going to get too cold!”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he said, flashing that perfect smile that never failed to make your knees weak. “I’m super tough and manly! This won’t bother me at all. It’s just a little chilly.”

“Kirishima, there’s literally snow on the ground,” Jirou pointed out in a tired tone.

He shrugged, and you couldn’t help but notice the way his muscles rippled with that simple action. “I’ll manage. That’s what heroes do.”

Uraraka finally turned to Tsu, helping her into the loose black t-shirt. There was a tiny part of you that was almost jealous that she was the one wearing Kirishima’s clothing, but you quickly squished the feeling down. It disgusted you that you could think such thoughts when your friend was struggling like this with something she couldn’t control.

“Iida,” Midoriya began, “I think you should run over to the school and try to find a teacher. Asui—erm, Tsu needs to get back inside soon.”

Iida nodded curtly. “Good idea, Midoriya. You’re right. Todoroki, would you keep Asui warm with your left side? Yaoyorozu is in charge until I get back, alright?”

The class nodded in assent again, and with that, Iida was off in a burst of speed from his calf engines.

People began to break off into small groups to huddle against the cold. Luckily it wasn’t too windy, but none of you had had time to grab a coat, or even shoes in some cases. Most of the girls were huddling around Todoroki, with Tsu clinging to his left side in the center. Some of the other boys were standing shoulder to shoulder, with a few hugging into Shoji's limbs for extra warmth. Even Bakugou stood on the fringe of the cluster of boys, scowling at the ground.

You were hardly affected, grateful that tonight of all nights you’d decided to wear warm pajamas. You also had your blanket, which worked wonders against the chill night air.

It was then that you took notice of Kirishima again; still shirtless and blatantly trying to hide the fact that he was shivering. You wandered over to him, calmly tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. He turned to you, and you tried to ignore the way it felt when his eyes landed on yours, and the stupid, excited feelings that erupted as soon as he grinned at you.

“Hey, (L/N),” he said, and you had to applaud the way he kept his voice deceptively steady against his chattering sharp teeth.

“Hey,” you said, suddenly realizing that you were unsure how to phrase your proposition you had spinning in your head. “Um, do you—do you want to share my blanket? You’re the only one—um—not wearing clothes.”

He glanced down at his bare chest and then to the blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders. “I wouldn’t want to take it from you,” he said, his lower lip jutting out slightly as his gaze trailed to the ground. “Besides, I really am fine here.”

You pouted a little. “You’re going to get sick, and I’d be sad if you got sick.” You untucked a corner of the blanket out from under your arm. “And you wouldn’t be taking it, we can share. We’re friends, right?”

Kirishima considered for another moment, chewing on his lower lip before finally letting out a breath. “Alright, fine.”

He ducked under the half of the blanket you offered him, tugging it around his shoulder. You shuffled closer to him, and even through the sleeves of your pajamas, you were able to feel how cold his skin was.

“Kirishima-Kun,” you mumbled, “you’re freezing.”

He shrugged and frowned, keeping his eyes ahead and away from yours. “I’ll be fine,” he brushed off. After a few beats, he seemed to change his mind. “Actually, this is much better.” He finally looked at you again. “Thank you.”

You were thankful to the darkness for hiding your blush. “You’re welcome.”

Everyone stood where they were for a few more minutes. You couldn’t tell whether you wanted this all to end so you could go back inside or if you wanted to keep standing here pressed up against your crush.

You didn’t have to decide for yourself, however, since Iida soon came back with Aizawa sensei himself.

“Okay, kids,” the teacher said in his perpetually tired voice, “you can go back to your rooms now. The alarms went off because of a programming malfunction.” He continued talking as he unlocked the doors with a swipe card. “You were supposed to have a surprise drill today at one o’clock PM, not AM. Sorry.”

He held the door as the twenty of you filed inside, back into the centrally heated building. Everyone let out a collective sigh of relief as warmth finally enveloped their bodies again, happy to be out of the cold.

“Off to bed with you, kids,” Aizawa said. “You still have class tomorrow. I don’t want to see anyone outside of their dorm rooms in five minutes. Good night.”

Everyone made their way towards the elevator, and Kirishima finally slipped out from under your blanket.

“Thanks for looking out for me, (L/N),” he said, giving you another heart-melting grin.

“It was no problem,” you said, smiling down at the floor. You piled into the elevator with everyone else, and within seconds, the lift dinged to signal that you had reached the second floor.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow,” Kirishima said as you made your way to the doors.

“Yeah.” You grinned sheepishly again and adjusted your blanket around your shoulders. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

Back in your room, you scarcely even bothered to climb under the other covers you had on your bed. You were still wrapped in the one that had just been around both yours and Kirishima’s shoulders. To your delighted surprise, if you concentrated enough, you could just barely make out his scent laced into the material. Maybe the unexpected wake-up call wasn’t so bad, because now you could sleep with the memory of Kirishima’s arm pressed against yours.

<<<─────── ∘°❉°∘ ───────>>>

Taglist: @basicaegyo @iiminibattlehero @katsugay @nabo39 @pyrofanatic @sendhelpimstupid @xoxopam4 @aahilovetheatre @kay39 @rainy-skys-and-bright-stars @soft-enbee

#eijirou kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima bnha #eijirou kirishima bnha #kirishima imagine #eijirou kirishima imagine #kirishima eijirou imagine #kirishima x reader #eijirou kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #reader insert #sugar fics #sugar's snow days

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muppenthings · 4 years

Text

Title: I don’t know it’s late, I’ll revisit it maybe

Warnings: someone getting slightly pinned down? mild fear/nervousness. G/T

Summary: How Patton discovered giant merman au Virgil’s weakness for neck scratches. This is inspired by Anon Octopus. :D

Disclaimer: I don’t know what I’m doing or how to write.

-----------------

It was their fourth meeting on the beach. The heavy downpour from the night still coated the rocks, leaving them slippery and the three humans had to be mindful of each step.

The merman lay with his torso on the rocky shore, head resting on his arms and tail floating lazily in the far back. The way his shoulders slightly raised as they approached didn’t go unnoticed by Patton. He’d start talking more, a big (heh) difference from their first meeting where he’d barely spoken a word. But that wasn’t unexpected considering Roman’s… intense reaction.

Patton was happy that the mer was growing more comfortable around them now. He’d even laughed at one of his puns! Ok maybe it was more of a soft exhale, but it was something! He considered the tense giant; clenched jaws, a slight furrow between the eyebrows and raised shoulders. Patton frowned. He’d have to do something about that. Mind made up, he carefully walked over to the resting giant’s face and stopped in front of it. Close but not so close that Virgil had to go cross-eyed to look at him.

“Hey Virgil, would you be ok with me giving you a face massage?”

The giant lifted his head in surprise, and he softly rumbled out “A what?”

Patton glanced to where Logan and Roman were hovering over a laptop, lost in an animated debate whether they should be playing a Disney song or Mozart. No help from Logan.

“Well, a massage is when you knead someone’s body to help the muscles relax.”

Virgil tilted his head, looking even more lost.

“I’m better off just showing you, I think you’d enjoy it.” Patton offered with a gentle smile.

After a few seconds of deliberation, Virgil dipped his head slightly in approval. Patton beamed and clumsily climbed up on a large forearm to easier reach the giant’s temple.

“Uh, you’re gonna have to lower your head or I won’t reach.” Patton ran his hands over the skin he could reach, the neck, to emphasize. Patton realized two things while doing this. First, the mer was lowering his head. Second, he was leaning into the touch. Heavily. Patton nearly found himself pinned between the neck and forearm. He urgently smacked the closest surface he could reach with an open palm to alert Virgil, “K-kiddo you’re getting awfully heavy.”

The mer quickly pulled away with a gasp “Sorry! That was- are you alright?” his voiced cracked in the end, large eyes full of worry gazing down at him. Patton was thankful that the other two were still too occupied swapping songs to notice what happened. He imagined Roman would freak out again, and that wouldn’t be helpful for soothing the poor mer’s nerves. Judging from Virgil’s reaction, he wasn’t conscious of what he had been doing.

“I’m fine, you just surprised me.” Patton assured him as he slowly sat back up again, patting the skin underneath. ‘I think I found a way to help you relax though.’ He thought to himself and grinned.

------

Tag list:

@bunny222 @justanotherpurplebutterfly @vitriolic-artist @sparrow-flightninggale @unsurepotatohooman @welovelogansanders @the-aroace-queen-in-the-quiver @lonelyanxiousbean @justanothernerdyfandomblog @luci-the-android @hiddendreamer67 @raccoonrabbit15 @theregoesmygpa @hikarisakurariver @thenaiads @secretlypansexualmango @infinitywarkilledmysoul @averykedavra @yalltookmyurlideas @iamdarknessiamdeath @nonbeenary-enbee @alexisthedevilsfox @agoddamnrayofsunshine @rainbowbowtie @fakeestateart @firefox2215 @mynamehasbeenstolen @werewolfsonpage394 @pixelatedrose @sablesides @ncanspeak @killjoy-3000 @justagaygoose

#Sanders Sides #ts Virgil #ts Logan #ts Roman #ts Patton #giant merman au #Muppen attempts writing #Oof #I'm sorry #this will be a post and run xD #g/t

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queercraftingchonk · 3 years

Text

Spouse got a commission of my first fursona and--!!!

This work by @PeterandWhitney on Twitter is utterly fantastic. It’s me, Kaye, enjoying my non-binary highland cow life, writing Mass Effect fanfic in an unzipped N7 hoodie on my enbee laptop~ Such great pencilwork, great dark lines, nice shading, and just captures the vibes I wanted so well. Thanks to my partner for helping me design this fursona so the artist could RUN with it to lovely places. <3 I heard whispers there might be a colored version of this in the future and I’m so here for it~

#first fursona #fursona #highland coo #non-binary furry #queer SF nerd #gotta love a species where everyone gets horns #am I an official furry now #is there a membership card #cowsona

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darklingduke · 4 years

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@thegravedwellersystem @nonbeenary-enbee @007ardra @athenixs @aroaceagenderfluid @ollyollyoxinfree @n4o5r7a9 @fandomsofrandom @withspaces @iwillsithereandtrytocontribute @sanderssidesweirdo @iliveinprocrasti-nation @dysaniadisorder @weiampenguinblog @elvis-has-been-dug @ksallyyt @emo--nightmaree @aroaceagenderfluid @endless-rain-of-words @foxxsong @kawaiikat54

You guys were on my taglist(s) (art and/or writing) on my old account, @/probablynothumanish I have since deleted that account and was wondering if you guys would be interested in still being on my taglists when I post stuff on here!

#taglist #writing #art

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funky-stars-and-roses · 4 years

Note

For the other character ask - 🌙

(thanks for the ask! I'm writing my OC Softie for this one and it's gonna be in a bullet point format, since I don't know how to make it a fic-)

🌙 - If given the chance, what is one thing about their life your OC would change permanently?

Warnings: Controlling Behavior and Ab*sive Relationships are mentioned briefly but not described, be careful before proceeding!

If you asked Softie this, a lot of things would come to mind

I’d say she’d get stuck between 2 things

On one hand, they’d love to change the fact that she didn’t run from home the moment they had the chance

(She had a few chances to run away, but she didn’t take them, which they learned to regret. Perhaps if she took those chances, they wouldn’t be dealing with the trauma that came from what her parents’ did to them...)

On the other hand, she’d love to change the events of the day they met...him.

(If you asked her on that day, they’d say it was relieving that this powerful, immortal being had spared her life. However, they now see that being spared wasn’t as good as she thought it was. Now they’re stuck in a pocket dimension of his as his own personal puppet)

At the end of the day, she’d probably pick the second option to change, because being stuck under someone’s control is torturous. They’d do anything to get away from him.

#tw controlling behavior #tw abusive relationships #tw abuse #enbees writing #ocs #softie #writing asks

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demiromantic-daily · 4 years

Note

How does sexual attraction feel like? Is there any writing resources on how to write a character who experiences this attraction? I want to write a fanfic for a friend who headcanons a character as alloaro, but as a demiromantic ace i'm pretty lost right now. It'll be kinda personal, because she's questioning if she might be alloaro, so i don't want to blow it up

Sexual attraction is basically just finding the idea of doing sexy things with a person appealing. Not necessarily wanting to act on it, but it’s a nice thing to think about. Generally for me it’s just wanting to stare at someone’s beautiful face for ages, or being inexplicably captivated by someone’s charisma. It’s pretty hard to nail down exactly where it is different from other kinds of attraction, and in many ways that will vary person-to-person. So one person will stare at someone because sexual attraction, another because aesthetic. I wouldn’t worry too much with your writing. Even if allosexual isn’t the default for aro characters, it is what people have read in virtually every other character ever, so they will probably naturally interpret any subtle indications of non-romantic attraction as being signs of sexual attraction because that’s what they basically always are.

I’m not sure about specific resources, but @enbees-and-aros #alloaro and #aro resources tags are definately worth looking through, and @aspecpplarebeautiful has a lot of good posts about what attraction is and how experiences are different.

#asks #attraction #resources

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all-time-logan · 4 years

Note

I don't know if your still using the prompt list but if you are, #7 immediately followed up by #4 with Prinxiety please :)

Hello!! Sorry for the delay in getting this out, but as we’re all aware, the world’s been pretty crazy and I haven’t had much energy to write. I’m kind of considering this a 2.5 to my By Any Other Pet Name verse, though it’s honestly long enough to be a part three. Thank you @angelablue for the request, and I hope you enjoy!!

Part 1 - Part 2

Warnings: None that I can see, but please let me know if there are any!

Word Count: 1252

***

Virgil sighed. “I’m bored and I’m blaming you. How did you convince me to do this again?”

“I convinced you, Sour Puss-in-Boots,” Roman started, tapping one of Virgil’s combat boots with his own shoe, “because I wanted to make Patton and Logan confess their undying love to each other and I needed help.”

“They’re already dating, though.” Virgil said, watching Patton and Logan from the top of the stairs. The two were in the living room, quietly talking as Logan watched Patton knit, his book closed in his lap.

“I’m well aware of that, Virgil, I lost a bet to you about it.” Roman muttered. He leaned forward, and Virgil had a short burst of impulse to tug Roman back to keep him from tumbling down the stairs. He ignored it, knowing Roman had better balance than that.

“However,” Roman continued, “Dating does not equate to true love. Their cutesy nicknames and endearing honeymoon phase are admirable, but it doesn’t make up for the drama and flair of a true romantic affair!”

“I don’t think Logan and Patton are ones for dramatics.” Patton giggled below them, and Logan grinned at him, leaning over to kiss Patton’s forehead. Roman cooed at Patton’s blush, not deterred by Virgil’s doubts.

“They may not be, usually, but when one is in the throes of love, they do crazy things,” Roman threw his hands up, gesturing around has he talked. “They will go to great heights, defeat terrible foes, put themselves in embarrassing positions, preform wonderful deeds, just to look at their love and say, ‘I love you!’”

As he said the last line, Roman turned towards Virgil, making eye contact as he said the last three words. For some unknown reason, Virgil felt his face flush, and Roman’s eyes widened. His cheeks turned pink, and Roman cleared his throat before turning away.

“Uhm, yes, they will do many things to show their devotion.” He ducked his head for a split second, and Virgil couldn’t make himself look away.

“What we need to do, though, is make the two glasses-wearing lovebirds admit their undying love to each other, however we can!” Roman seemed to come back to himself, turning to Virgil with a bright grin. Virgil felt his face, which had been cooling down, get hot with a blush again.

“Will you help me, My Chemically Unbalanced Romance?” Roman asked.

Virgil furrowed his brows, huffing out a breath as he thought. On one hand, it could go terribly wrong, and Logan and Patton would get upset with them and possibly break up. On the other, more likely, hand, Virgil and Roman would simply embarrass themselves and the other two might tease them for a while and stay together. As Patton’s giggles filtered up to them from below, Logan’s quiet laughter underneath it, Virgil shook his head.

“Why not? It may be fun to watch you make a fool of yourself.”

Roman sputtered, and Virgil snickered. This was going to be fun.

***

Their first course of action, apparently, was to figure out the other’s schedules.

“We already know L’s though.” Virgil said, leaning against the counter. “He has it posted on his door so that we don’t bother him when he’s working.”

“Oh, I never pay attention to that, he’ll answer my questions whether he’s working or not.” Roman said. He was sat at the table, furiously writing something into a notebook, a few pens scattered around him. He glanced up at Virgil with a slightly sheepish grin. “To be fair, my questions are usually about scripts and stuff, so that may be why Specs doesn’t mind, but my point stands. We may know his work schedule, but we don’t know his schedule outside of that, and I don’t know about you, but I can’t make sense of what Patton does in a regular day outside of mealtimes and movie nights.”

Virgil snorted, pushing off the counter to join Roman at the table. He looked down at the notebook, seeing that Roman had been making a master schedule of what the four of them did during the day. He grinned when he saw the largest purple section was just labeled “Nap?? Existential dread??”

“First off, Pops doesn’t really have a set schedule.” Virgil plucked the light blue pen out of Roman’s hand, marking out a few of the lines Roman had. “He mainly monitors Thomas’s emotions as a background function and will manage the short-term memory hall while L manages the long-term memory hall with you.”

“I know all of that already,” Roman said, just short of whining. “But what does he do outside of that?”

“As far as I’ve gathered, chores around the house or hanging out with one of us. Or just chilling in his room. I think he takes as many naps as I do, honestly.”

Roman hummed, idly crossing out the “Existential dread” of the largest purple section and rewriting it to be later in the day. “Ok. I might have to watch him for a few days to see if I can get anything concrete, but if not, this will work.”

“What’s this for anyway?” Virgil asked, doodling some swirls in the corner of the notebook page. “And shouldn’t you have Janus’s and Remus’s schedules on here too?”

“This is so we can coordinate our plans better, so they have a higher chance of working.” Roman added some zigzags on top of Virgil’s doodles as he spoke, “Logan’s attempts at giving Thomas a schedule might not be working, but it is useful. I don’t have the other two’s schedules because I frankly don’t think Remus has one and Janus is too sneaky for me to even want to attempt to figure his out.”

Virgil laughed quietly, shaking his head. “Don’t be fooled, Janus has less of a schedule than Remus does. Remus’s is just full of chaos and pranks though, so it balances those two out.”

Roman hummed, picking up the red pen to add the little amalgamation of shapes they were making in the corner of the page. He overlapped the swirls and zig zags, giggling a bit when their hands bumped into each other. Virgil snorted, dropping the light blue pen and grabbing the navy one to outline the swirls he had already made.

They got so invested in their little creation, that it wasn’t until Roman leaned forward and knocked heads with Virgil that they realized how close they had gotten. Roman laughed again, apologizing, but Virgil was too distracted by the way the kitchen lights, as bright and slightly yellowed as they were, were catching Roman’s hair and lighting it up in a halo. His face flushed, and he swallowed roughly.

Roman smiled at him, his cheeks slightly pink from laughter, and shook his head a bit.

“I didn’t knock you to badly, did I?” He asked, and Virgil silently shook his head no. Roman hummed, seeming pleased.

He began to gather his stuff up, sliding the pens into the bright red and gold pencil case they had come from. “Good, don’t want to hurt you too bad and make you lose the few braincells Logan was willing to share.”

With that, he gave Virgil another bright smile, and headed out into the living room. Virgil stared after him, the image of Roman laughing, bright and happy and beautiful, stuck in his brain. As the last descriptor he had used registered with him, Virgil felt his face warm even more, and his heart start racing.

Oh.

Oh no.

***

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