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thereticx · 3 months

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ᎠᏆᏙϴᎡᏟᎬ́Ꭼ II.

♰Summary: Even after your confession, his life had to move forward and in order to do that his wife had to listen to everything that has happened after your first kiss.

♰Warnings: explicit sexual content, cheating, toxic relationships, mention of cigarettes etc.

♰Author's Note: Welcome back to part two of longest fic I've ever written.

The professor’s voice was faint in the background. As you continued to stare out the window — tiny raindrops hitting the large windows aggressively, you were more interested in the weather outside rather than any school work.

A few weeks after the incident, life was slowly retaking its course. At first there were angry calls, threatening messages and God knows what else — you've stopped checking after some time.

It was exhausting.

Each minute was spent in frustration, wondering if you did the right thing or was it just a carnal desire to hurt him? Maybe both. You still don't know for sure.

The look of pure adoration, of desire, of love she carried for her husband thinned out the second she heard your voice. An angelic and sensual sound but with the most venomous words.

She was heartbroken. Betrayed and lied to for months on end. He could apologize hundreds of times and she still won't look at him the same again.

She was right all along. You wanted to destroy something beautiful, something that would have lasted for many many years if it wasn't for you.

You were a poison, finding your way in the middle of their relationship, tearing it from the inside — like a disease and feeling no remorse.

“LIAR!!” She screamed, the tears flowing down her cheeks. She went pale only by thinking of the two of you together, on the same bed she shared with Geto for four years.

However, he didn't react. The man only looked down, ashamed of his own person. What he did was unforgivable and he deserved everything that was coming his way.

“Was it worth it?”

“Excuse me..?”

Your father cleared his throat. “Was it worth it — what you did?”

“No” You admitted, clenching your fist at your side “It wasn't worth it”

He tightened grip on the counter’s edge and gave you an ultimatum “I hope you're aware of the shit show you created. I don't care how you do it but you're gonna fix this. If not —”

“I know…”

As he walked out of the kitchen he glanced at you with pity “You're my daughter and I love you..but I must say I'm ashamed of you”

Somehow, that felt worse than your ‘break up’ with Geto. Which made you realize how far gone you actually were.

Cigarette smoke escaped his pierced lips, the strong scent getting lost in the air. He could barely concentrate on his work – on anything for the matter. Geto had a painful headache that started in the early hours of the morning, shortly after his wife left for the appointment. Although they still lived together in the same luxurious apartment, their paths never crossed.

He sipped on his coffee, the cigarette later forgotten in the ashtray — still lit. The man typed fast on the keyboard, checking his recent emails, his recent messages, hoping none of them to be from your father ”Fuck me–”.

His eyes read each word at least two times before moving on to the next sentence. Everything seemed a bit too formal, not at all like the messages your father used to send.

He apologized on your behalf for the chaos provoked and asked to meet again, at dinner.

Geto massaged his temples, the headache more unbearable than before. How could he possibly respond to this? Having dinner and drinks at your house, the same house where the two of you first bonded. It would be wrong for him to accept and it would be wrong for him to decline.

Dammit.

”You seem lost” His wife stood there, with her arms crossed, her weight supported by the glass door. She was dressed in a white dress that was hiding her growing belly.

He closed his laptop. Before shifting his body to face her better. His eyes widened. ”What?” She asked, her piercing gaze raising goosebumps on his skin ”Nothing. Just surprised you're talking to me” Geto admitted, clasping his hands together. He was nervous and she could tell.

”Yeah..don't get used to it. I'm still furious but I have been thinking and I'm willing to listen. No screams, no fights…just a talk” She said, motioning for him to make her room to sit next to him. She rested her arms behind her body, sneaking a glance at the man she loves.

Geto felt his heartbeat uncontrollably. Fuck, where can he begin?

Your laugh was contagious. A sound so melodic to his ears — beautiful. Seeing you there, in his arms, naked and vulnerable — he could die from just looking at you.

He supported his weight on his right arm, the other tracing the apple of your cheeks, down to your lips, your chin — that he slightly tilted up so his lips could reach yours.

Geto could feel you smiling between the kisses, your happiness radiating off your lips, and body, your hands gathering as much of his dark hair as possible, forcing him to deepen the kiss.

It was impossible to stop at just one kiss when it was you. He couldn't remember the last he felt as much desire, a rollercoaster of mixed feelings that all centered around your whole person.

“ I want you” Geto whispered, his fingers finding the warmth of your cunt . His digits spread your folds, then circled your clit, the wetness already dripping down.

You let out a whimper, grinding on his hand for some friction, everything to make you feel satisfied. “I want you too” The words made the man above you completely unguarded.

He sank two of his digits into your hole, fingering you slowly, eager to hear you beg — like the very first time.

“Mmhh..”

“Feels good?” He asked, already sure of your answer.

You nodded your head before lowering your own hand to play with the puffy clit between your legs “You know it does…f-fuck”

“Careful with that”

“Shut up and trust me” You chuckled, taking another strand of hair and wrapping it around the curling iron.

You'd never seen such beautiful hair on anyone — and healthy. You almost felt jealous. After a few seconds you let go of the strand and curled it again with your finger then let it fall softly around his face.

Geto was surprisingly patient while you styled his hair, each strand made individually ”Are you finished?” He asked, tugging at his bangs only for the curls to bounce back ”I'm almost done” You said.

”Hurry. My butt is hurting”Laughing softly, you let go of the last piece of hair and reached for the expensive hair oil he always uses. A few pumps should be enough. You massaged your palms together before applying it ”Please let me take a few pics”

He turned his head to look at you ”Fuck no”

”Why–I promise I won't show them to anyone”

Geto, as much as he wanted to deny you, those pouty lips of yours could not be resisted. He sighed ”Fine, but only if I get something in return”

You smiled and immediately unlocked your phone ”Anything”

The man waited until you photographed his hair and grabbed your waist for you to settle on his lap. He pulled the bangs out of his face, the shorter strands resting on his naked shoulders ”Open the camera” Geto said, his hands pulling you closer, your chest smashing against his.

You did as you were told. ”Now angle it to your face” Again, following his command ”Press the video button”.

Clicking on the red dot the camera started recording and with that the fun began.

Geto angled you chin down, his lips touching yours in a soft, almost featherly kiss. With his eyes half lidded, he smirked before licking your bottom lip, asking for entrance.

You struggled to hold the phone at face angle and not drop it on the floor. The kiss grew more passionate, more rough, his tongue tasting yours. Never in your life were you kissed like that.

The boys you have been with were impatient and restless. They wanted one thing only – sex.

Geto was different. Patient, careful and so fucking passionate. Maybe because he was older, more aware and experienced. He always played his cards right, a single kiss from him getting more reactions out of you than needed.

He guided your hips to feel his growing erection, squeezing the fat of your ass, his hands tracing your back, tugging at your breasts ”Geto–”

”Is something bothering you?” The man chuckled, playing with the hem of your shirt ”Want to stop?”

You wanted so badly to feel him inside you now, if only a faded image of his wife hadn't shown up ”N-no but we have to”

He kissed down your neck before ripping the shirt and getting rid of your bra. Geto cupped your breasts and traced your nipples with his tongue ”No we don't”

”Mmmhh”

You tugged at the roots of his hair as he continued to suck on your breasts. His face was basically mushed in your chest but he could hardly care. Nothing was better than the feeling of you.

”Please stop–” You begged, depriving yourself of the euphoric feeling of your orgasm.

Geto pulled away, his face resting now on your shoulder ”What's wrong?Tell me”

You shook your head and got off of him. You didn't bother to pick up your bra and you just went straight to the bathroom.

While you were aggressively washing your face, wishing for the horrible person to just disappear, Geto stayed unmoved on the floor – wishing for the first time in years to be unmarried.

Something was terribly wrong. Why was he shutting her out? His own fucking wife.

She watched her husband leave the bathroom with only a towel wrapped around his hips. His hair was dripping wet, making him shiver. “Do you need help drying your hair?” She asked, closing her book for a mere second.

He seemed lost, pacing around the room in search of something — anything “You're acting weird. Did something happen at work?”

“I skipped today” He muttered, tying his wet locks into a bun, his bangs falling out in an instant. With his hair now up, his wife had a perfect view of his muscular back.

She set her book aside and crawled behind him, her lips kissing up his shoulder blade all the way to his neck “You're in a bad mood.

“I'm not”

She lowered her hand so she could feel him through the material “Yes you are. Luckily I know exactly how to help you”

He grabbed her wrist, preventing her from removing the towel “I'm not feeling it tonight”

She placed her chin on his shoulder, pouting her lips, hoping that this method would convince him to give in.

Unfortunately, a man like Geto, when he decided on something, it should stay that way “Cut it off–” He turned to her, shrugging her off of him “I said I'm not feeling it”

She was shocked. That was the first time her husband denied her needs. On top of that, he was being rude, inconsiderate and resentful. What happened to the Geto she knew and loved? Because at that moment, a totally different person was sitting in front of her.

“Fine. I'm sorry” She mumbled, before turning around and falling asleep on the other side of the bed — which was cold and lonely.

The next morning however, he was behaving like nothing happened. Geto was smiling, throwing compliments at her, offering to give her a massage which inevitably ended up with him eating her out, making up for the asshole behavior he displayed the night before.

He forced her legs open, his tongue fucking into her cunt repeatedly, his fingers abusing her clit at the same time.

God, your pussy was just the best.

The way you were moaning, arching your back, playing with your tits “F-fuck ohh fuck–”

He loved you. He truly loved you.

“I can't get enough of you. God, I love you” Geto admitted, kissing the inside of your thighs.

Tangling your fingers in his hair you replied “I know you do. I love you too, my husband”

Snapping out of his fantasy, he looked up at the image of his naked wife. She was panting, her cheeks were flushed and her skin was glistening with sweat.

Clearing his throat, Geto unconsciously played with his lip piercing. He was quiet, a wave of concern hitting him abruptly. What was he thinking?

This is not happening….

“My love, what's wrong?” His wife asked, wrapping her legs around his waist, forcing him down.

He didn't resist, entering her with no problem. Her walls tightened around his length right after he started moving.

Thank the lord, for his long hair. The messy dark strands hiding away his embarrassment. Geto forced his eyes shut, biting his tongue, terrified of having your name escape his lips when the erotic feeling of his release would wash over him.

Oh fuck, Y/N….

“You have a beautiful smile” He was taken by surprise, but flashing you a big smile nonetheless. The man experienced butterflies in his stomach, the mere presence of you with him, making him feel young again.

Giggling you poked his side, continuing with the teasing “You're getting flustered quite easily. That's good to know”

Geto scrunched his nose before flipping you on your back, his arms caging you down “I'm glad you enjoy seeing me embarrassed” He joked, tugging your hair behind your ear.

“What a beautiful smile you have”

Your cheeks grew warm, hearing how effortlessly he spoke, how gentle.

Ever since you knew him, way before your affair, Geto Suguru has always been a well spoken person. His gentle personality paired with his breathing looks — it might seem like you actually won the lottery. If only….right?

You knew who was in all truth lucky….his wife. The woman that he swore to love endlessly, the woman who wore a custom made wedding band and who was being treated literal heaven every day.

And that woman was not you. You were just a mistress, someone who was there to only pleasure him, nothing more.

You cursed yourself internally for everything. Why'd you have to start this? Why couldn't you stay away and not get involved with him? Why…why?

“Y/N…get back here” He said, kissing your forehead.

You turned your head away, the feeling of his lips burning on your skin. Or was it shame?

Geto clasped your hands together right before speaking “I'll have to go on a trip for a few days. A business trip”

“And?”

“And…I want you to come with me”

“Why don't you take your wife?”

He raised his brows, taken back when hearing your words “Excuse me?”

“You've heard me. Why don't you take her?”

Geto scoffed before pulling away from you “Because I don't want her there with me”

You sat on your knees on the couch, angry at him, at you, at this whole mess “And you want to take me?! What a wonderful idea"

He massaged his temples before pursuing “Yes. What's so wrong about that? About wanting to spend time with you”

“Just look at your ring. That's what's wrong”

You couldn't help it. You couldn't be the only one who suffered, who had demons praying on your sanity as payback for fucking a married man.

“Can't believe you…” He whispered, stretching forward to the glass table where his pack of cigarettes rested. He pulled one out and lit it, taking a fat drag right after.

“Oh really? Then let me ask you this. What would your poor wife think if she saw you fucking with me?”

Geto exhaled through his nose, the smoke disappearing into thin air. He licked his lips before taking another drag.

What has gotten into you? Don't you see how happy you make him? What's his wife have to do with all this? This is just you and him — no one else.

“You mean ex wife”

“Whatever…as long as you wear that ring and she has your name she is your wife and I'm your side chick” The tears were flowing down your face uncontrollably. Not even realizing you were crying, you continued to pour out your heart “I hate to break it to you but I'm not gonna sneak around any longer. I can't do it”

Geto put out his cigarette, rushing to take you into his arms. He held your weak self close to him, trying to comfort you at the best of his abilities.

He hated the sound of your cries. It was heartbreaking. Geto felt like someone just stabbed him and ripped out his heart and then stabbed him again.

“I hate this…and only because I wanted to prove her what I'm actually capable of”

He stopped breathing, his soul leaving his body “What did you say? What you're capable of?! Meaning what?”

Resting your hands on his chest you contemplated whether to tell him the truth or not. It can't get worse than this right?

Wrong.

“Right before that dinner a few months ago…I talked with my friend. I told her about your wife and how she keeps looking at me like I'm the worst thing to ever walk on earth and–”

“And?”

While sobbing, you gather your strength to continue with the story. That way you could actually feel something other than utter disgust — shame.

“I made a decision t-to give her something to truly worry about”

Geto bit his tongue so hard it started bleeding.

“It was my idea to get involved with you. Right from the start…it was my idea to make you cheat on her”

He couldn't listen to you anymore. Your words were all fading in the background.

Geto freaked out, rushing to get his jacket and phone and leaving your house as soon as possible. He didn't even hear you yelling after him to stop and listen. He just couldn't.

“That's quite a story” She said, unlocking her phone and clicking on the email from your dear father.

Geto nodded absently, before sneaking a glance at his wife's device “What are you doing?”

“I'm just making sure that little bitch would be there to properly apologize for ruining us”

#fanfic #x reader #anime #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk geto #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #suguru geto smut #geto x reader #suguru geto x reader #geto suguru #jujutsu kaisen suguru #getou suguru x reader #jjk #jjk x y/n #jjk x you #jjk au

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krchov · 9 months

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top 5 apple cultivars

I love you so much I'm kissing you on the lips LET ME TELL YOU

okay so first thing first. You might know the infamous comedic apple ranking website. And while the ranking criteria is relatively sound (things like flesh, sweetness, skin, taste etc) the author has a palate of geriatric pangolin who would probably die if he tasted anything that's not insultingly bland. Proper ranking apple cultivars ranking has no damn point system bc it isn't rigid, acknowledges that not all apples are tasted in the same condition/ripeness and in no way would call it call Granny Smith a shitty apple.

So here comes my objective top five apple cultivars. Some of them might come from similar cross breeds (and what does it say about Red D*licious that the thing we most do with it is to try for it to not taste like itself), but all of them sans ones are their own protected and in some cases trademarked breeds.

1) Kanzi

For the longest time it was not available on the Czech market, by which i mean that the first time I had a Kanzi apple I had to take three different trains to an "organic" orchard two hours from my house just to be able to buy one. On the way there I forgot to buy a ticket for the last leg of the journey, got caught by the conductor and was told that I can either get off the next station, or pay 40€ fine. As the orchard would be closed for business if I had to get off and wait for the next train, this officially makes kanzi the most expensive apple I've ever eaten.

It's small and sometimes mottled, but don't let it's visage fool you. It's firm, juicy, the perfect of sweet and sour and the flesh has a smooth texture. The skin isn't too thick and has a great taste on its own. Perfect rucksack apple to take with you on hikes.

2) that one apple I bought on a farmers market at Zelňák in Brno and that when asked about the cultivar was told "idk, my grandma has two trees in her backyard". Unlike anything I've ever tasted, with sweet, soft flesh that was all that other fully red apples desire to be. It keeps me up at night thinking about what sort of crossbreed it could be

3) Granny Smith. The MILF of the apples. I'd eat this juicy, spicy Australian grandma any time. All that libel you see written online is just people being unable to appreciate a good, firm sour apple. True it might be little bit hard on the teeth sometimes but the way the flesh breaks off gives you the option to go truly hog wild on it. Staple apple (stapple, if you will) of any kitchen, ready to be snacked on any time.

4) pink lady. I first bought this at this corner store in Bødo and then I've spent the following month going through every single grocer in Norway trying to find it again, with no luck. When they rolled them into Czech rep few years back I nearly creamed my pants right there in the Lidl fruit section. They are crunchy, sweet but fresh, the perfect inoffensive apple that is good to go with anything. Maybe little overpriced when compared to other apples, but a classic anyway. I'm not calling them a stapple only for the fact that they rippen up pretty quickly and unlike granny Smith make it hard to see visually if they are past the good texture point.

5) Halloween Apples©. I'm so angry that I can get them only once a year and if Lidl ever discontinues them I'm gonna go on a warpath. Because somehow while they were trying to breed an apple with red flesh, they not only succeeded but they created a cultivar that tastes exactly like pomegranates. I can, will and did gorge myself on them till I was sick. So low only because of their criminal unavailability.

Cosmic Crisp didn't make the cut because even though it's The Apple, let's be honest. It's mostly marketing, and it tastes like more juicy pink lady. Had to stick the one I had in a fridge for a moment just so the flesh would firm up into a decent texture.

#personal #i can and Will be unhealthily intense about apples #the biggest moment of validation was when one of my friends had a Not Good apple #and told me that now she understood why I'm so picky about them

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izzy-b-hands · 29 days

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Feeling slightly better than i have been at this moment (hence being on Tumblr for more than a half second before my body goes 'hm, actually, that's too much. put the phone down or i make u throw up 🥰' as it has been all week since this back pain bullshit began

(more blathering abt this stuff and work and just. general life update as of this week below the cut)

But realised that's probably only bc:

-Housemate (who has been an absolute angel thru all of this and has looked after me better than my own mother ever has tbh), got me some Pedialyte style drinks, and I've made it thru nearly all of one today (a miracle bc the nausea has otherwise been constant even when the pain isn't as bad and has made eating more than like. broth and saltines and gummy edibles basically impossible)

-Im stoned, on a increasing rotation of meds (acetaminophen, ibuprofen, mucinex which it turns out has potential off label use for muscle spasms, as Housemate researched and found out, edibles, magnesium, and now ginger pills to help the nausea) all of which im grateful for but combined leave me feeling less in pain but a bit. idk. blah? brain foggy, more than usual? Tbh it's probably the pain making the brain fog, the pills just can't do anything for that and i don't fault them for that, but for a brain fog example, I've been trying to place an order for some local chocolates to ship to my mum for mother's day, and legit it's taken me ALL WEEK just to get the site open, to the shipping menu, and just today actually putting things in the cart, but I haven't managed to check out yet bc just getting the cart together that made me feel like i needed a nap. This post is the longest thing I've typed in days, and I'm struggling rn to keep going..But i started it, so we're finishing it, back spasm at a level 4 of pain be damned

-and im doing basically nothing aside from stretches (gentle yoga ones i already know the forms for, and some pilates gentle type things i remember from when mum joined that fad lol), using one of our wand vibes on my back (never had done before, they actually do work for that too! kinda fun to find out, just wish i hadn't found out like this!!), laying on a heating pad and wedge pillow, and trying to nap (bc the pain is worse at night so I've somehow been sleeping even worse than i usually tend to)while YT videos and/or the 1973 JCS plays on repeat.

I mention all this bc i work this weekend, and i don't want to have to call out for the first shift tonight. but like. if im struggling just to type this post up (nvm that i have my zine checkin to finish and send in as well, if Nads or anyone else from the group reads this pls know i will make sure i have it done by the due date! it's just been taking. longer, with this back pain mess), keeping my brain on track is difficult rn (as evidenced by...this entire post), and my back is starting to twinge up to a 3-4 overall already bc i let the heating pad turn off, thinking that maybe, just maybe, if I'm feeling okay enough to be on Tumblr then maybe that's a sign this is finally over, and my back is done making life miserable...

then maybe work isn't a great idea. but it scares me every time i have to call in (and I've tried not to unless i absolutely had to, but they're very particular abt ppl basically never calling out, so i know that even if they acknowledged i sounded as sick as i was, that doesn't mean this wouldn't be reason enough to fire me)

I just don't know what to do. i want to work. i want to make money. i also don't want to have to mute my mic bc my back spasms hard enough to make me vomit tho, and that's unfortunately still a very real possibility (spent entirely too much of this week throwing up from the pain tbh!!! not happy abt it, i do not like being sick like that, for any reason!!) The last reason makes me think calling out is the right thing. but. i have a few hours yet, so im gonna see how it goes, acknowledging that i probably do need to call out, whether i like it or not

(if for nothing else, to maybe be recovered for my first set of doubles on Sunday)

#text post #tw emetophobia #long post #stoned rambly and at abt a 3 on the pain scale so. idk. i had enough energy for a life update/work worry post #im gonna set my phone down again and just. stare at the ceiling and/or john oliver for a bit #and eventually tonight get back on to fill out my zine check in and finally fucking finish the mums day chocolate order #there's more i need to do but those are the most pressing so.

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aimmyarrowshigh · 8 months

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I know this is a super broad question, but; I'm in Chicago this weekend for MPCA/ACA and was wondering if you have any recommendations on what I could do in my freetime? Any smaller/niche museums or bookstores or whatever. Anything you think is interesting/nerdy. And food, of course! Food recommendations are always good :)

Oh man, I wish I had less touristy answers to give you, but I live just enough outside of the city that I mostly do touristy kinds of things when I go down there, and I've only been once since the 2020, so a lot of my answers aren't open anymore/didn't survive the pandemic.

BUT: I do have one that's not touristy! If you're into crafting or found objects at all, there's a secondhand crafts supply store called The WasteShed on Kimball Ave. that's very cool. My favorite thing there are the collections of donated old family photos and slides that people just sort of... give away, when someone in their family dies and they don't want to keep the personal effects(?????). I found an amazing pair of gorgeous family portraits from 1928 in Tokyo last time I was there. The family's names, ages, and the date are all written on the back in both Japanese and English. I'm glad those portraits didn't go into the landfill. But I'm a Small History person who loves things like ephemera. They also have tons of stuff for every type of art or craft imaginable!

Greektown also used to be super cool, but I don't know whether it still is. AFAIK the big tentpoles all didn't survive the pandemic, so don't quote me on that one.

I'm also always going to hype the fairy castle at the Museum of Science & Industry. It was created by and for Colleen Moore, the flapper and silent film star, and she used to tour the country with it to show at children's hospitals. It's fucking amazing. There's a 1" actual Guttenberg bible in there. There's a polar bear rug made of mink and mouse teeth. There's mother-of-pearl chairs made from her earrings from the set of a movie. There used to be running water on the Weeping Willow, but they had to turn off the water in the '90s because it was eating through the materials after 70 years. It's truly my favorite dollhouse, and I've seen the Nutshell Studies.

...I also love American Girl Place but that's literally just a me thing. I also sort of hate-love it, because they have Lost Their Way Severely.

I also am a big fan of the Field Museum -- I know, I know, museums evil, but it does genuinely seem like they're trying to course-correct and make amends -- and the Shedd Aquarium (same). You can touch a manta ray. You can see otters. You can smell penguins. I mean, you can also see them, but boy can you smell them. And Sue (the t-rex at the Field) is an unofficial Chicago mascot.

This is a good list of cool bookstores in the city, which I have to say I haven't explored as much as I should. I've been to a ton of cool bookstores in the Twin Cities, New York, and Staten Island, and some in the SF area and Seattle, but I haven't really explored the ones in Chicago too much because there used to be THE BEST children's/YA bookstore in my suburb and it was where I spent my entire life. This list looks like it has good options for many neighborhoods in the city, though, so wherever you're staying there should be something near-ish to you.

Which is kind of the other reason I haven't explored Chicago as much as other cities in which I've lived, despite living here the longest: public transit here FUCKING SUCKS and I hate city driving more than anything in the world. Maybe you'll have a better experience with the L than I ever do, though, so don't let me being terrible at the L put you off trying it out. I just am not good at it. I can do the subway! I can do trams and the Skyway! I can do street maps okay! I cannot do the L. Somehow every single time I try, I miss a stop and have to circle all the way around again.

Ooh, one other fun thing I did in like 2019 in the city was go ax-throwing, so if you want to try that, they have that right near the symphony building. That's surprisingly fun and not scary.

Food-wise, Chicago is full of good food. Pretty much everything I've ever eaten in the city was great, from the popcorn at Union Station (YOU MUST GET THE CHEDDAR AND CARAMEL MIX AT UNION STATION. IT IS THE BEST POPCORN.) to the $600+ per plate price fixe at Alinea (the only good thing I ever got from an ex). I feel like Sam @copperbadge has a more "a la minute" (hyuk hyuk) set of opinions about Chicago dining than I do -- like I said, a lot of the places that I really liked didn't survive the pandemic or they're outside of the city itself.

Oh! And it is sort of touristy but also very nerdy: the International Museum of Surgical Science. There's an exhibit right now about Frankenstein!

Honestly, looking at the MPCA/ACA website, I'm just jealous you get to be doing/seeing that all weekend. I feel like that's the nerdiest and most fun-seeming ticket in town. What are you there to present or see specifically?? I'm so intrigued!

#asks

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evelhak · 4 months

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23, 38, 73, 90 ?

23. Have you ever met any celebrities?

Hmm. It's hard to say where the line for a celebrity goes. I'm an author so I've met other authors and since my country is small, the big names and the small ones mingle in a lot of places, so I have met some big names.

Other than that, I am comically unaware of celebrities. The chances that I wouldn't realise I was talking to one, are pretty good, because I don't watch much TV or follow popular culture outside of my quite niche interests. It's even funnier because my mom is a real celebrity magnet, and especially my grandmother. She was close friends and neighbours with arguably the most famous pop/rock star in Finland, but I never met the guy.

38. What's the longest you've ever gone without sleep?

Two days and two nights, I think? I'm a night owl but also my body pretty much just shuts down by itself after I've stayed up too long, and needs a lot of sleep, so I won't be breaking any magnificent staying up records.

73. Do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Depends entirely whether the consequences of correcting them or not correcting them are the more favourable ones. If I see someone being an asshole, I will pretty much always interfere. As well as if I see people miscommunicating, I will step in to rephrase what they're saying to help them understand each other. But other than that, things are more complicated.

For example, if someone uses a word, out of ignorance, that is offensive to a group of people, I will explain to them why it's offensive, and why it shouldn't be used, because I can see them using it again in the future. If someone I'm having an argument with makes a factual mistake that doesn't directly relate to the outcome of the argument, I won't correct them, because it would distract them from the point of the conversation, and possibly make them more defensive. If I scroll by a post on Tumblr that is spreading misinformation about a topic I'm informed in, I will comment about it unless it's inconsequential as far as my imagination reaches. If it's more of an impression thing, grey-area or a matter of perspective, even though it seems wrong from my perspective, I will generally not comment on it, unless the post is directed at me somehow, in which case I will offer my perspective as contrast.

I have taught ballet, which is highly technical and has an exact right way of doing things a lot of the time, so I have spent a lot of time thinking about which mistakes make sense to correct at any given time, and which ones can wait, when considering the entire package of a person, their goals and well-being, and their impact on a group. From that I can pretty much draw to any situation that involves correcting others. I generally try to be as holistic in my interactions with people as possible, so I think about correcting mistakes the same way, it's not about what I get out of it, it's about what they, and people as a whole could get out of it. If the only beneficiary from correcting a mistake would be my ego, then I don't correct it. I try to consider one interaction's impact on a bigger scale. Not that I'm always able to, or wise about it, or judge the consequences correctly, but I try.

That being said, if you're one of my very closest friends and I have known you for a long time, I will freely correct any of your technical and factual mistakes, down to your spelling mistakes, depending on my mood, if I know you can take it. But that's reserved for my innermost circle.

Okay, this is clearly something I think about a lot...

90. What makes you angry?

Eh. I don't want to overwhelm you with detail, because I'm sure I could go on longer than the previous question. so I'm just going to say cruelty, unfairness, and generally anything that comes from malice, or lack of respect or regard for other people's well-being. I have a pretty low tolerance for people being mean and putting each other down. Unwillingness to consider other people's perspectives and acting like your opinions are objective facts is a pretty sure way to get me angry, too. The bigger someone's ego is, the sooner I will probably clash with them. On the pettier side, I get easily irritated if someone assumes I don't know something that is pretty basic knowledge, or I otherwise perceive them to imply I'm dumb/not knowledge or I get the feeling that they think they are smarter than me without actually knowing anything about me.

Thanks, I hope that was at least a little bit interesting. :)

#ask game

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kidelune · 1 year

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Every time I relapse, I write a letter to someone who will never read it until after I'm dead.

If they ever find it at all, that is. Like a pathetic string of words swallowed into the guts of a ghost. Sometimes I hope a fire would somehow kindle near and I'd lose all those sluggish hours spent hunched under a lamplight to the flames, so one would ever have to read in ink about how much I've truly suffered in my life. But then, at other times I pray to any God that might still be willing to forgive me that the recipients, you, do find my words prematurely, while I'm still alive and intact and probably lounged in your living room, so I could finally get the help I've too much pride and arrogance to ask for myself. Don't know which scenario I'd prefer best just yet, but I do know that either way someone else will have to suffer as well, because of me. Because I'd been so selfish, all my life. Because I never wanted redemption as much as they wanted it for me. Are you someone who'll know me well enough to remember that I would hate it if you cried for me?

You are, because tonight I'm writing to you, pops. Y'know, it's been four months since I'd last been here, in this filthy, black fucking gutter. I somehow remember the sober tidbits in between, and that I'd dedicated my last letter to Yejin, my noona who's grin you adored so much. I'd written it over the long course of a week, and I recall writing many unfair accusations at first, about being destructive as I was then because she'd broken my fucking heart. But I'd ended up scrapping most of it after a few days of coming back to, as none of it was true and she would hate me more in my death than she ever has when I'd been alive. Later, I'd realized that I just wanted forgiveness and through that, I'd learned what to take with me into my next relapse. This time around, this grace I offer to you–as most of them have been, frankly. Hopefully, I don't cross any lines you wouldn't want me to take with me to my grave. Though I don't think it'll matter anyway.

Dear dad,

You're in the driver's seat next to me and you know that I'm high. There's a pooch in my lap–he's not yours, but hers although you feed him too, and he licks my palm while you murmur a curious concoction of Korean and Japanese onto deafened ears. How much longer do you think you will last like this? You ask me in the end, later that night on my balcony. I don't know anymore, I finally admit tell you nothing else. And you hold in an expression I think would've made the timid boy in me cry, were you to let it loose. It's evident you know that too, because you just stare ahead into the dark and speak no more of what may seem like an addiction in disguise. It's not, I promise. I swear. We go to bed sober, the two of us, and I sweat throughout the entire night in my futon. Without any clothes on, come morning. Did you know? Four months is the longest I'd been sober, since I started using again, three years ago. I'd tell you I could do five, then six, until I'm over it again, but I'm sick of unmet expectations. You get it.

The wrist I told you I'd broken again during an unfortunate accident, I'd actually broken it in an unfortunate fight that almost killed me passively. You're not stupid and know I'm lying through my teeth—I'm not the best liar when I'm high, but why haven't you been reacting to it as you used to anymore? The hardest thing for me to do has always been to lie to you, to tell you that I'm completely fine with two burning nostrils, so how could you nod and let me get away with it now? I don't get it. I really don't get it, but you seem happy to do it anyway, as if letting me off is the only thing that could save me. Maybe letting me go is the only way I could be saved. I'd just have to want it more than I do now. It's not easy to want anything good when all I can think of is retracting my steps. Of going back to when I truly felt purpose, to when I hadn't the need to save myself because it was easier to believe I couldn't be. Why is this so hard, dad? Tell me some day, how you did it. I would gladly sit by you and listen, as I've done from the beginning. And then, if you can still see, hear and touch me, I'll tell you after, how I did it, too.

We're out for dinner and you're across from me, and I wonder if you've ever regretted opening up to your kid son. If you've ever wished you'd never glamorized torture, and blood and despair, to the point where I'd grown into it myself. Maybe it was intentional all along, because you wanted us to go together the same way, like we'd started together. Just you and me in hell on earth. But I don't know, maybe I'm pointing fingers and may scrap this some days later. It's just that for some reason, although you tell me any and everything under the moon, you've never told me this. Forgive me for assuming. I smile when you tell me you genuinely like my hair–that it's never looked better. It hasn't, I agree, and then I get up for a bathroom break. You're the only one who'll always remember the queasy feeling of knowing precisely what I'd actually done in there after the flush. Help my son, you don't say, he's destroying his life.

#kk.log #a/n: kind of depressing!!!!

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autumnalwalker · 1 year

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Find the Word tag game

Thank you for the tag, @fearofahumanplanet

My words to find within my writing are insert, fresh, sofa, safe, and chaos. Somehow though, in the 181,000+ words so far of The Archivist's Journal, the 33,000+ words of Empty Names, and the 3,806 words I've written for various dream recordings, none of those words have been "sofa" or "chaos." Some synonymous substitutions may be in order...

Passing this on to @theimperiumchronicles, @dontjudgemeimawriter, and @nikkywrites

You words shall be: empty, carry, warm, sharp, & answer

Insert

"But you get my point, right?”

“Sure.”

“But I’m not sure Road does. Even after I tried to explain they toned it down a bit but were still talking me up enough that I couldn’t help but feel they’re overestimating me.” Lacuna lets out the longest sigh of the night. “It would be wrong of me to jump into this unqualified. Especially when… well, I’ve seen how you wind up on nights I need to help you back to your apartment. Or to Doc.”

“Well, I doubt you’d actually be in the field, and if you did end up there somehow, there’s no way Road or I would let anything happen to you.”

“But what if I let something happen to you?!”

Lacuna cringes at the volume of her own outburst and looks over her shoulder in embarrassment. Thankfully, ’s Diner looks to have inserted a dozen or so empty booths between the two of them and the next party over at some point in the conversation.

Well, damn. Eris has known her friend since Lacuna first came Backstage, and this is the first time she’s ever heard the slender woman raise her voice.

Fresh

I returned the greeting and was offered a ride into town. I accepted and found a place amid the sacks and crates of fresh produce. Despite last night’s inadequate sleep I was more lucid now than during my prior ride and was able to better carry on a conversation with my nearest neighbors, as well as get a closer look at the strange animal pulling the vehicle. Of the latter, it was a shaggy beast, similar in shape and posture to a capybara yet with proportionally thicker limbs and scaled up to the size of an ox.

Sofa Couch

Maiko was pleasantly surprised to see Lin. Sympathetic when the funeral was mentioned. Caught the other two of us off guard when she (accurately) pointed out that close as she was to Miranda these past months the death must be hitting Lin hard since she was the closest thing the old woman had to family at this point.

When I last saw the two of them before retiring to my room for the evening they were both on the couch, leaning on one another but awake. I wouldn’t call it cuddling, not that warm or playful. But I like to think that the two of them were providing some degree of mutual comfort to their respective pains.

Safe

The rest of the walk back is spent in casual back and forth banter that quickly morphs into Lacuna rambling on about the book series she’s currently reading. That suits Eris just fine; easier to keep an eye out for threats along the way. Not that she actually expects any - it’s a safe part of town, just like anywhere else in Crossherd she ever brings Lacuna along with her to - but habits from a decade of monster hunting die hard. And perhaps one or two alleyways they cut down aren’t ones she’d want her friend traversing alone. Lacuna might have a couple inches of height on her, but Eris has literally seen her knocked over by a stiff breeze. Meanwhile, a sharp glare from the woman who wrestles werewolves into submission as a hobby has proven a sufficient deterrent in the past to send any curious bottom-feeders scuttling back down the nearest storm drain. Not that Lacuna’s ever noticed, bless her oblivious heart.

Chaos Mess

I wonder how Vernon’s been getting on? We did sort of leave a mess behind for him to clean up. A few messes really, but not all of them were ours. The literal mess of dropping things in the street to lighten the load on the cart in our mad dash out, yes that’s on us. Also the situational mess of leaving him by himself to get said cart back to town on his own. And the metaphorical mess of figuring out how to answer any questions people might have had about the unknown hooded figure pulling the cart.

Oh. Wait. What do we say if anyone asks about that? We really should have thought of that while Maiko was still here to give her input.

#writing tag games #tag game #find the word tag #writebrl #empty names #The Archivist's Journal #Sorry if the substitution of (approximate) synonyms is against the rules of the game but I wasn't sure what else to do with it

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maximumsunshine · 1 year

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I posted 13,654 times in 2022

That's 7,084 more posts than 2021!

1,048 posts created (8%)

12,606 posts reblogged (92%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@mostlycatsmostly

@stickyfrogs

@maximum-mom

@catasters

@the-thinkingcat

I tagged 640 of my posts in 2022

#dracula daily - 43 posts

#wwdits - 10 posts

#ofmd - 10 posts

#wwdits spoilers - 9 posts

#yep - 9 posts

#star wars - 9 posts

#submission - 7 posts

#wait - 7 posts

#ok - 7 posts

#youtube - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 139 characters

#i'm on my first time watching star wars (in inuniverse order) and understand nothing in universe that happens after the episode before this

My Top Posts in 2022:

Dearest Tumblr. Please show me your darling baby kitty cats? I'll accept shittens too! Here is one of mine in trade! A darling good boy named Ash!

2,032 notes - Posted April 25, 2022

Ok so i don't actually know much of anything about the plot of Dracula. Somehow I've managed to avoid major spoilers despite being on tumblr over 10 years and following people like @thebibliosphere and other goths interested in vampires. Which frankly this is the best job tumblr has ever done keeping the lid on a major piece of media? Though judging by the Dracula Daily tag I think maybe we all of us collectively (except maybe Joy) only like Dracula in theory and no one has actually read the book? Which is why this site has turned into the best book club ever. But i digress.

I don't actually know Jonathan's fate? I'm not even making assumptions. But what I'm dying to know (no one tell me) is if that crucifex he only took to end an awkward social interaction actually is how he somehow ends this book alive. You know. *Should* he end this book alive.

Like i know crucifixes repell Dracula. But I also know that part (most?) of the book takes place in London. Does our boy have a chance to learn before he goes home why he was given it? Or does he immediately take it off after returning home and toss it in a drawer? I assume it comes into play later? But how much later? I guess I'll keep tuning in and find out.

I'm thriving. First the blorbos on OFMD now the blorbo in my email. This is a great season for special interests that make my brain go ping!

I'm just so glad to experience both with tumblr and not well after. I'm not usually in the thick of fandom.

2,266 notes - Posted May 6, 2022

I want to check interest in a possible project. If I spent the first 23 weeks of 2023 running a newsletter sending out a chapter of Frankenstein a week, for us to weekly Frankenstein like we are running daily dracula, except there aren't any dates. It would just be a chapter a week sent out in order, would anyone be interested? We'd just read it together and fucking meme it like we are Dracula. Just really running with the Tumblr as a book club idea.

I'm right now just checking interest. This would be a lot of work so I'm not doing it if there is zero interest. So some sort of response beyond general likes that can mean anything would be lovely.

Putting this in the Dracula Daily tag. But I also want to tag @thebibliosphere because I feel like Joy is the ticket to making this happen. (Or at least find out if anyone wants it.)

9,314 notes - Posted May 7, 2022

I have a good disability accommodation story.

I use a medium sized backpack instead of an over the shoulder bag, because chronic pain has my shoulders all jacked up and when really carrying it I need to distribute the weight. I pass as femme so it's essentially a purse (which I'll call it) that holds like my cash and cards and keys but also my epipens and inhaler and other medical essentials.

I took my 10yo to the art museum today. About 20 minutes into our visit I was told they have a bag policy and while my bag was essentially small enough i could keep it, they need it by my side so I'm not knocking it into shit via it being on my back. Some people just aren't aware of their surroundings sometimes, blanket policy. Cool i get it. They really just needed me to single shoulder it. So I did. But like another 10 minutes in despite switching between shoulders, I just couldn't. Disability just made it impossible. So back on my back it went i was just really really careful.

Of course I was approached again though by someone new. I patiently and politely explained I knew and understood the rule but disability made it so I couldn't single shoulder my bag, I really did need to distribute the weight.

And she was like, welp ok we'll just get you a sticker for your bag so security camera guy will know you're an exception to the rule I'll be right back. 2 minutes later she was back with a shiny sticker and that was that.

In a museum full of priceless art I get the bag size and how you carry it (people really do be backing into a monet with their fucking backpacks) rules. But they were happy to accommodate me without me laying out my medical history. I didn't have to explain why my shoulders are fucked up. I didn't give them the details of last weeks especially bad pinched nerve. I simply said i was disabled. I don't even think i needed to offer up the part about distributing the weight. I just offered that bit up freely so it made general sense to them. And they gave me a reasonable accommodation and stickered me so i could explore and not be stopped every 5 feet. And in return i did actually work really hard to mind my bag in relation to the art around it.

I just really appreciate when the world goes right!

11,231 notes - Posted May 8, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Want Frankenstein bit by bit in your email twice a week starting in February of 2023? We're doing this Dracula Daily style! Twice a week (Wednesday and Sunday) I'll drop a section of the book, in written order, in your email and we'll meme poor Victor and cheer on Adam together! If you want to join in this, this is your chance to sign up!

I think substack will have an archive for anyone late to the party, but hopefully by spreading the word now (May 2022), we can all start together on February 1 2023. February 1 was chosen because it's after Dracula Daily ends, and also Mary Shelley's death anniversary. I think she'd like this shenanigans. She'd have a blast with tumblr!

Anyway, please join us in the fun and feel free to reblog this so word gets out with the sign up link!

13,757 notes - Posted May 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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xoeretria · 3 months

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Day one since he left:

Today has been very difficult. This was his first trip here after us becoming official. It was also his longest trip so far. 24 days.

24 DAYS. 576 HOURS.

That's how long we spent together. I loved every second of it. The only part I absolutely hated was the fact that it somehow went by very quickly. I had been counting down the days until he had to go back since he arrived, but I still wasn't ready for it to happen. It was by far one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. We both knew he had to go back eventually, I just think we weren't expecting time to go by so fast while we were together. I guess that's one of the "cons" of falling in love with your best friend. There's no toxicity, no arguing, just true happiness. Those 24 days were some of the best days of my life.

Sure, we had a little bit of drama happen that in the moment we thought was going to ruin everything. It was terrifying. It still is. We've never had any sort of conflict before, not even anything small. I think it just hurt so much because of how close we've become since last December and how we somehow managed to get even closer after the visit in October. I just really wasn't expecting it. My heart dropped instantly. I know we will be able to work through it, learn, and heal from it. I just kind of wish it never happened. I hate the trauma it opened up. I've been improving so much since finally getting out of a very toxic relationship. Mi amor has helped me heal in ways I didn't even know existed. I trust him. This whole situation makes me overthink things and second guess that at times, though. I really dislike that part.

Spending 24 days with someone is a test.

At least I thought it would be going into this trip. Those 24 days helped solidify that he's my person. The one I want to spend my forever with. The one I want to fall asleep in his arms every night and wake up beside his pretty face every morning. The one I want to do simple daily tasks with, such as, house work, shopping, and running little errands. Even the stressful stuff doesn't feel nearly as bad when I'm with you.

I've never felt a love like this before, I'm really starting to think this is the first time I've actually been 'in love' I literally can't even begin to describe how he makes me feel. He's my safe space, my best friend, my sun on a cloudy day, the one that keeps me leveled even when things are going wrong. We made so many memories throughout this last trip, and I loved them so much.

Our weekend getaway was my favorite. I don't know what I was expecting for my surprise that weekend, but it definitely wasn't that. The amount of thought and effort that went into everything literally made me want to cry. We found our new favorite restaurant, went thrifting together. Which was really fun (not referring to the dressing room incidents) //ahem, experiencing new things with you is one of my favorite things to do. The location you picked was so beautiful. I was genuinely impressed. Everything about that trip was perfect, the only thing that wasn't was the fact that I couldn't stop bleeding.

I think just getting to experience life with my best friend & the person I want a future with opened up a lot of emotions. Especially when he had to go back home.

I've missed him so much today; I woke up and missed feeling him next to me. Missed being able to snuggle up next to him or get up and go see him doing something weird in the living room. Even just being able to bug him. I miss us planning and making little meals together every day. I miss eating at the table with you. I miss seeing your face, feeling your lips against mine, holding your hand, randomly getting to rub on you even if it was something as simple as a brief lil brush across your arm. I miss being able to put my cold feet or hands on you. I miss being able to bite you & seeing your reaction. I miss being able to pinch your chichis. I miss you helping me with hooptie almost every day before work. I miss picking you up in-between jobs even though it only happened a few times. I miss coming home from work and you being here, even if you were asleep. I at least knew you were here with me. I miss just lying in bed, being in your arms. I miss attempting to watch movies with you. I miss you getting so irritated when ugly came into my house that you instantly had to chase him out. I just miss you. A lot.

I can't wait to be able to be with you again, I know it's going to be a little bit but I also know that the wait is going to be worth it when the time comes.

I love you more than words can even begin to describe.

I can't wait for our future together.

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touyaspeach · 2 years

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camboy! Kuroiro Shihai x fem! Reader

A/N ; this took forever to write, but I think it turned out well! It's the longest fic I've written so far, and I'm really glad it's for Shihai. He deserves more love. Also I drew the banner image, do you like it?

Summary ; You learn that your co-worker and fellow pro-hero, Kuroiro Shihai aka Vantablack, has been moonlighting as a camboy. A deep dive into his hours of content later, and somehow you end up as his biggest fan and number one supporter. The only caveat is... you're pretty sure he hates you. Words ; 14.5k Warnings ; cam work, masturbation (m, f), sex toys, assplay (m), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, fingering (f), praise (f), Thanks ; @a-shy-blueberry for beta reading, brainstorming, and supporting me through the whole process!!

It started with whispers, a quiet sussurussing behind closed doors, in empty rooms, among breaks and alleyways and friends and acquaintances. Your friend and pro-hero co-worker, Kuroiro Shihai, also known as the hero Vantablack, is supplementing his income by camming. No one’s shown you a video, or given you any proof yet, but you’re dying to know the validity of the claims.

It doesn’t help one bit that you’ve been insanely attracted to him since your time together in school, though nothing ever came of it. You were both too focused on studying, training, becoming a hero. And, well, now that you’re both heroes and living the dream, as it were. Maybe it’s as good a time as any to do a google search for his content. He won’t be hard to notice, his quirk gave him a unique appearance.

These are your thoughts as you round out your patrol for the evening. You’ve been on your feet for hours, walking the streets to keep bad guys from doing bad things and stopping potential villains from causing general mayhem. All in a day’s work.

This shift was a boring one. Your sector is a well-travelled one that’s got a relatively low crime rate, it’s one of the ones that newbies and side-kicks get assigned. You’d be fine with it normally, but that means there’s nothing keeping your mind from running wild with fantasies about your supposed camboy friend.

You wonder, as you walk, what kind of content he puts out. Is he a degrading dom or a praise-hungry sub? Did he fuck himself on toys or stroke himself to completion? You’d caught sight of his bare torso a handful of times here and there, and the curiosity of what lies beyond his waistband has you getting a little too wet in your hero. Thick and vascular, or long and pretty? Somewhere in between? Did he dress up in cute costumes or cosplays? Fetish wear? Harnesses seem like his thing, and you assumed he’d be the leather over plastic kind of guy, but you’d very much like to know for yourself.

You’re so lost in your thoughts, that you don’t even notice the dark figure in front of you until you’ve crashed into a broad chest and steadied with slender hands on your shoulders. Of course, you’d smashed your face right into the man currently occupying your thoughts. Of course.

“I-I,” he stammers, seemingly caught off guard just as much as you were. He steels himself for a moment and then clears his throat. Kuroiro is just as strikingly handsome today as he always is. His hero suit is all dark onyx like his skin, and his silvery hair is tied back into a ponytail. White accents adorn his wrists and shoes but otherwise, he cuts an intimidating figure.

“You won’t catch any villains if you can’t even pay attention to what’s in front of you, weirdo.” He chastises, hissing out that cute little laugh of his. You flush, and then the illusion you’d so carefully spent the last few minutes crafting comes to a screeching halt.

“Just as the prophecy foretold, our fated meeting at dusk means only one thing-”

Oh fuck, here we go. And this is why you and Kuroiro never became anything more than acquaintances. He babbled about something dramatic, and you were too focused on the way his suit hugged his trim and muscular frame to really hear what he was saying. He always said the strangest things when you were around like he was intentionally being off-putting. He was sexy as hell and getting to see him this close for the first time since you’d heard those rumors only gave them more stock. You could easily see how and why he’d be popular enough to make camming a successful side hustle.

Did he spout all that darkness stuff during his shows, you wondered. That thought did nothing more than pour gasoline on the flames. Were there people into such a thing? Surely, there were people into everything, so why would that be any different?

“You’re not even listening, of course,” Kuroiro said suddenly, drawing your attention back to him. He scoffed, and then moved aside to walk away from you without another word. Even when you turned to apologize, he’d vanished. Sucked into the shadows as his quirk allowed.

You crossed paths often enough with him, he tended to be assigned the patrol shift right after yours since nighttime lent itself to his abilities so much better than the day did. He was excellent at what he did, too, great at gathering information and catching ner do wells by surprise.

You just couldn’t put your finger on him, though. He was enigmatic, for sure, and the media seemed to agree with you.

When you returned home, you showered and ordered dinner. Once you changed into comfortable clothes, you grabbed your laptop and began your sleuthing. There were a ton of camsites to shift through, and you didn’t follow him on any social media (not that he’d use his professional handles to post porn with, let’s be real). A myriad of different search terms and combinations later and you finally found him, the rumours were true.

And with a quirk like his and a screen name like “vantabussy”, that secret wouldn’t stay secret for long. If you managed to find him before your takeout even came then surely the others at the agency and then eventually the press would, too. Maybe your co-workers had already found this and that’s why the rumours spread so quickly?

Curiosity piqued, especially after patrolling all day and thinking about him, you clicked through. He was offline, obviously, and there were a few VODs locked behind a paywall which you weren’t convinced about shelling out money for just yet. You scrolled down to the bio section and read through.

It was mostly standard stuff, his username, the date he joined, his birthday and age, what he was into, his streaming schedule, and his body mods. But what caught your interest the most was just how many followers he had.

Sixty thousand.

Sixty thousand people liked his content enough to make an account on this website and follow him, and probably pay a lot of money to see… what exactly? You were just about to click the “register” button when your doorbell rang, nearly making you jump out of your skin and toss your laptop across the room in your shock.

Oh right, the food.

You were quick to greet the delivery person, give them a fat enough tip, and return to your apartment to finally sate this budding curiosity. You set the bag of food on the table, retrieved your laptop and your wallet, and signed up.

You didn’t want it to be obvious that it was you, so picking a username that was interesting enough to get noticed-why did you want to get noticed?- and not too obvious, was going to be a little tricky. You considered it for a moment, your mind running through the options.

You could play off of his username, vantabussy, and use something silly like sparklepussy. But you didn’t like the connotations it gave you. Vantafan666 it is, you supposed. It’s not like you were actually going to interact with him anyway. Not outside of paying the price for the VODs and getting it out of your system.

You input your password, verified your account, and gave away your credit card information for this, so it better be worthwhile. Scrolling through the options, looking at the thumbnails and descriptions to choose which one you’d be shelling out your hard-earned cash for.

“Imagine me breeding you like this,” is the video you decided on. The thumbnail is a full body shot of the one and only vantabussy, on his knees in what appeared to be a room set up specifically for this, with a few toys around. He was completely naked, and it was the first glimpse you’d gotten of what he was packing.

It wasn’t going to be your last.

His cock was pretty, long, and vascular, flushed so red at the tip that it shone through the inky blackness of his skin. His hair was down, and his dick was standing at attention and the dirty talk potential was too good to pass up.

The video was around ten minutes long, and the price was actually pretty cheap. Or what you assumed was cheap, considering how rarely you went on sites like these. You ordered the video and clicked through and immediately your ears were blessed with the sweet timbre of his voice.

Had it always been so butter-smooth and calm?

“Thank you for buying this, baby,” he cooed, shifting his hips forward and displaying his gorgeous length fully as he spread his legs further. His thighs were delicious, all lean muscle and thick power from years of training up and working out. He reached out of frame to produce a small bottle of lube, which he squeezed out onto his bare cock. It jumped at the coldness and he chuckled softly, “so cold, I’m gonna need you to warm me up.”

You had to pause the video there, feeling all tingly and warm from seeing your co-worker and fellow hero in such a compromising way. But of course, this was intentional, right? So it wasn’t wrong of you to indulge, right? If anything you were helping him out by paying for it, so why did you feel so guilty? Guilty, and extremely, stupidly turned on.

You shifted on your couch uncomfortably, the slick pooling in your panties making things sticky. You could do this, you could get through this video without touching yourself!

You leaned back, grabbed your food, and pressed play.

Those long, slender fingers wrapped around his length and he stroked himself a few times to spread the lube around. A low, pretty groan ripped itself from his throat at the sensation and he purred, “can’t wait to fill you up, breed your pretty pussy and show everyone who you belong to. You want that, baby? I know you do.”

As he spoke he produced a clear fleshlight. You could see all the carefully crafted textures on the inside through the soft silicone and you knew he’d chosen it specifically because of his quirk. Getting to see just how good that lovely dick could make you feel was all part of the plan.

He pulled out a pillow from off-camera and placed the masturbator on top of it so that he could prop himself up higher on his knees and line up with the entrance. He smirked wolfishly at the camera, quirking a silver brow as if to tease you.

“You ready for me, princess?” he hissed as he slowly sunk into the toy, “God you’re so tight, feels amazing. You’re gonna milk my cock, aren’t you?” Kuroiro’s thrusts started off slow, his moans so deep and sweet as he enjoyed the feeling of fucking his toy. You could see it stretch and contract with every piston of his hips, and could only imagine what it’d feel like inside of you. “Fuck,” he groaned, picking up the pace. The only sound for a moment was the squelching wetness of the lube as he swirled his hips and hissed out a sharp breath.

“Feels so good, you want me to cum inside? Want me to - fuck - breed this pretty pussy of yours? I wonder if I could get you pregnant with just one, or if we should go for multiple rounds. What do you think, baby? Would you like that?” Words dripped from his lips as his pace picked up even more. He pressed a palm to the top of the toy to add more pressure and keep it still.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, princess. Cum with me, I want to feel you cum on my cock. That’s it, good girl. Oh shiiiiiit-” he moaned loudly as he shot pumps of milky cum into the fleshlight. You could see just how much he gave, too, your eyes focused on where the head of his dick pressed out of the other end and pushed his load out. It all but gushed, staining the pillowcase.

“Nnnnmmm, so good for me, oh my god,” he pulled out carefully, sensitive, and leaned back on his heels. His expression was glossy and dazed and he had such a cute little grin on his face that you felt yourself smiling right alongside him. He let out an exhausted huff.

“Thank you, baby, I needed that.” And then the video cut.

You hadn’t realized you stopped eating, entranced by the show Kuroiro put on. Out of all the things you’d expected from him, that was certainly not it. Where was all that waxing poetic about weird stuff? He seemed so perfectly normal and insanely sexy in the video.

That only further proved he’d done those things just to drive you away, and your heart sank a little. It wasn’t like you were ever close but knowing that he hated you for no seemingly good reason was rather upsetting. You returned to your food, but your mind was swimming.

With the video still paused on your laptop screen and a mouthful of fried rice, you thought about what you’d just witnessed. Sure enough, pro-hero Vantablack - or should it be vantabussy now? - was making a decent amount from his side hustle of being a camboy. And it was so fucking sexy, no wonder he had sixty thousand fans. If that video was so good, what about the others?

Was it really okay, though? Knowing how much he disliked you? Watching him fuck a fleshlight felt like an invasion of privacy, but if he was going to hate you for no good reason then who cares? You could watch all of his content and he’d have no way to stop you.

That sounded like as good an excuse as any to have you clicking through to the next video. And the next. And the next. All 38 of them.

Before you knew it, you’d spent all of this month’s budget and half of next’s on Kuroiro’s VODs, and it was worth it. In your defense you didn’t really spend money on yourself, so this was like a good little splurge for you. On porn. Of your co-worker. Who hated you.

And true to form, he was totally normal in every video you watched. No spouting about the night and voids and fate and whatever else. You just had to catch him the next time he started streaming to really confirm it for yourself. It’d be easy to fake it for a short ten minute clip, but on live it’s so much different.

Scrolling down you checked his stream times and luckily for you it looked like he’d be on around 8:00pm tomorrow evening. That’s lucky, neither of you had patrol tomorrow, so maybe he was right earlier when he was talking about fate or whatever. You made a mental note to catch his show, and transferred some cash over from savings just in case. It’s not like you were going to tip him, but it’s just to cover what you’d spent already.

Including the extra hundred you’d transferred. That’s just… just in case.

You stepped away from your couch and laptop after what was definitely hours of binge-watching vantabussy’s VODs to stretch and clean up a bit. It was getting late, and images of his pretty cock busting load after load danced behind every blink of your eyelids.

You were asleep before your head hit the pillow.

The next day came early, as it always does. You made a point to be an early riser even on your off days so that you could keep a solid schedule. There was just one problem. Okay, two problems.

The first one was all the dreams you’d had last night about Kuroiro. Him hovering over you, pinning you down with strong, lithe arms and stuffing you full of cock and cum. His honey-sweet voice pouring filth into your ear as he makes you feel better than you ever have.

And the second one was how horny you were between the dreams and the memories and thoughts of him. Knowing that his show wasn’t until later the anticipation was almost agony. You needed more and you needed more now.

Grabbing your phone you opened social media, and it didn’t take but a moment before you found his twitter profile, under the same screen name. Unfortunately his account was locked, for good reason. You almost hit the request button, but it dawned on you that between the frantic watching of videos and cream-filled dreams, you realized he hated you.

And PR would throw a fit if you followed such an account from your verified one.

That left you one choice: start a new account under an alias to get your vantabussy fix. So you did, using the same name you signed up with last night to request the follow.

Now all that was left to do is get ready for the day and wait. You threw back your blankets and stepped into your slippers, wrapping your robe around you as you walked into the bathroom to wash your face and ready yourself for the day ahead.

Sure, you could go back and rewatch those VODs, the one where he wore this really lovely red leather harness and used a riding crop on himself stood out to you, but the thought of there being fresh, new content lurking just behind a follow request was too juicy. The notification came just as you were pouring your first cup of coffee for the day. He’d accepted your request. Odd, you hadn’t expected it to happen so quickly, considering his schedule, but you figured he must have just gotten off of patrol since it was still early.

You sat down at your modest dining table with coffee in tow and phone in hand to scroll through his hundreds of post like you were reading the morning paper. Only this was much sexier, and more sinful.

Making the new account, you found out, was worth it. Not only did Kuroiro make extra cash by doing his camshows, selling VODs, but also he posted the occasional tasty photoset for a pay what you want price. His way of giving back to his fans, so his twitter said. Pay what you want did mean free, if that’s what you could afford, but he was so pretty in the red shibari… how could you not give him a few bucks just for that?

There were twelve photos in the set altogether. Vantabussy in different poses, tied up in different styles with his dick rock-hard and begging to be sucked. The next set was worth paying the extra for, too, because he’d worn a maid dress from a fan request. It looked so good on him, too, the way his cock tented the skirt and how juicy his thighs looked in white fishnet.

Just like before you’d gotten so lost in consuming his content, that you’d spent far more than you’d intended and ran out of coffee, too.

This was bad, you felt like you were starting to get addicted to him; to the cock you’d have no chance of ever seeing or feeling in real life. The fantasy, though, was what kept you coming back for more. And he was gorgeous. The more you saw of him the more that fact solidified in your mind.

In the photos, too, certain aspects of his body became more apparent. The fine spattering of silver hair running down his belly, for one. Just how toned his abs and arms were, for two. The plump shape of his lips, also. Lips you now couldn’t stop thinking about kissing.

Lips you wanted to feel explore your body. His tongue, too, was pink and flushed just like his dick, and you wanted to feel if it was just as soft and warm as you imagined. You shivered, not from cold, but from how electric that thought made you feel.

You considered rubbing one out, just to get rid of this tension that’d been building all through the evening and overnight, but he was supposed to be putting on a show later, and thinking about edging yourself through the entire thing was so, so tempting. Making yourself wait to cum until he does, or overstimulating yourself to cum as many times as he did were both options.

But you didn’t know which one it’d be, and the thought of waiting was agonizing. So many possibilities flitted through your brain as you set about cooking breakfast, eating breakfast, and then cleaning it up. You looked through the photos you’d bought again, and then indulged yourself by watching the video from before as if it’d soothe the ache between your legs.

Realizing you were just working yourself up over and over, you tried to distract yourself by cleaning, doing laundry, cleaning some more, reorganizing your closet. And by the end of all that it was barely 3:00 pm. Five hours to go, and you were on fire. While all of that kept your body moving to work out the tension, you couldn’t get him out of your head.

Overnight Kuroiro had gone from eccentric co-worker and fellow hero to your wildest fantasy dream boy and you just couldn’t get enough. Surely there had to be more, right? Something you hadn’t seen yet?

Craving him, you browsed his public socials, scoured through pinterest boards and twitter accounts dedicated to him and his abs. Though, in your professional opinion, it was his arms that were the star of the show. Long, leanly muscled with broad shoulders. You imagined what they’d feel like wrapping around you, holding you close in an embrace as he gently thrust into you.

The frantic desire from before slowly started giving way to something else, something more intimate, the longer you looked through Kuroiro’s online presence. The press had captured several photos of him interacting with children and the elderly, including one kid dressed up as him for Halloween. Headlines talked about how intel he’d gathered via the use of his quirk changed the outcome of situations for the better.

You got stuck on one article, there was a photo of him smiling candidly while talking to some other heroes at your agency. It was from the day you’d all first started there together, and the article talked about you and your peers as breakout heroes with a highlight on Vantablack.

But that photo, somehow, seemed to paint him in a different light. He really tended to play up that grim dark persona for the media and had a real flair for the dramatics, but this was just so genuine.

Why did he have to hate you so much?

Eight rolled around more quickly after that.

You probably shouldn’t have gone out of your way to charge up your favorite two vibrators, and make sure your tried and true dildo was squeaky clean for this, but you did just to pass the time. You also shouldn’t have run out to the local sex store to get some of the same brand of lube he used, but you did it anyway (and almost bought a new toy while you were there, but you’d just spent hundreds on vantabussy content so perhaps another week).

You got comfortable on your bed, toys laid out neatly, and opened your laptop. The chat was already going wild when you logged in even though the stream hadn’t started yet. Theories on what today’s show would bring were being thrown back and forth, tips coming in already in anticipation, a side discussion on a previous show was also being had. It was overwhelming and chaotic but it looked fun. You had just started to write out a greeting when the camera flicked on.

And there he was in all his glory, wearing a white muscle top and boxers as he leaned back on those gorgeous arms and grinned at the camera. His silver hair fell forward into his face, concealing one eye while the other stared right at you. Well, at the audience, but it felt like he was looking at you specifically. You could see the bulge and dickprint in his boxer briefs, obviously already worked up and horny for the show, and your eyes trailed up along the expanse of his torso.

“Thank you guys for hanging out with me tonight, and for all your tips already. I got a special show in store today thanks to my new, biggest fan.”

The chat went wild with speculation as he trailed those long fingers down the length of his body to rub himself through the grey fabric covering his cock.

“Thank you for all of your support vantafan666,” he hummed, “Whoever you are, you paid this month’s rent for me so I bought you a little something to show my appreciation. Is this your first time here?” He smirked, pulled the camera closer so that the focus was more on his toned belly and growing erection.

He was talking to you, about you, and your face went hot. You supposed you had spent a decent amount on him, buying out his vods and photosets in your hungry fever of wanting more. The chat was mixed, some were disappointed that they had someone new to contend with, and some were congratulating him for it. Telling him how much he deserved it. You wrote your reply hastily, hoping he’d see your name among the hundreds already pouring in.

‘Yes it is, and might I say you look stunning tonight.’

You watched eagerly as his eyes scanned the chat, his thumb idly playing with the waistband of his boxers as he did. You could see the moment he noticed your comment because something shifted in his eyes and his smirk morphed into a grin.

“Mmm damn baby, you really like me, huh? Well, thanks to you, everyone gets to see the cumshot tonight, so everyone say thank you to vantafan666.” The chat filled up with so many thank yous and tips in your stead. Comments like, ‘it’s going to be so worth it, he’s so pretty when he cums’ and ‘thank you @vantafan666 for the food’. Tips broke up the comments, too. Some people tipping a single coin, others a hundred or more. You wondered what the protocol was about this tipping, what was appropriate, and why people were sending the amounts they did. How much did those coins cost, anyway?

You typed a reply in the chat before clicking away to see their pricing packages.

'Can’t wait to see what you have in store tonight <3’

As you looked through, Kuroiro continued to talk, engaging with his fans and replying to some other comments.

“You guys have been begging me to try the Lovense, and I wasn’t going to indulge just yet, but tonight’s a special occasion. This is for you, vantafan.”

The prices were…pricey. But you felt obliged to at least spend some since he’d apparently gone through all the effort of getting this…Lovense? Was it? Just because of you. The payment went through and you clicked back to the stream where Kuroiro was opening the new box and explaining the system. You could tip a certain amount to make this toy vibrate in certain ways for certain amounts of time.

The list popped up in the chat, and you browsed the options.

“So, vantafan666, you got a name, cutie? I wanna know what I should be moaning when I cum for you.” he said, producing the pink toy and showing it off for the camera.

‘Call me y/n’ you said before you could really determine if it was a good idea or not. What if he got your name and instantly knew who you were? Would he block you? His eyes flicked to the audience and he grinned again.

“That’s funny, that’s my co-worker’s name,” he said with a humorous lilt. He made a point to slowly tease the waistband of his boxers again, before turning around and sliding them just off his ass. His ass, which, you realized for the first time, was just as gorgeous as the rest of him. He bent over, presenting his hole which you noticed had the same flush of red that his cock had. You could hear him open the bottle of lube, and slick up the toy before rubbing it slowly against his ass. You were entranced, ignoring chat completely.

“I hope you’re watching y/n, this is for you, baby.”

And you knew he was talking about the y/n that was vantafan666, not the y/n that was his coworker, but you couldn’t help the aching between your legs growing at him calling your name in that buttery voice of his. Especially knowing what he was about to do.

You typed up a response, ‘You look so pretty like this, I can’t wait to see more’.

The chat lit up with the toy’s controls, as well as the tip goal for the day. When he reached a certain amount, he’d get to cum, but only then? And there were interesting options for the controls, too. Formulating a plan, you renavigated to the shop page and bought what was probably way too many coins. You didn’t care, though, the thought alone of getting to control the toy that was going to make him cum and work him up for however long this took was just too tempting.

When you returned to the stream, he’d changed positions, sitting propped up against a large fluffy-looking pillow. He must’ve put the toy in and replaced his boxers, but it’s not like you minded. He looked divine like this, with one arm behind his head showing off his toned bicep, and the other idly rubbing up and down his belly.

“Alright, my darlings, it’s on, someone want to send a tip or two in to make sure it’s working properly?” He grinned again, then sucked the corner of his bottom lip in between pearly white teeth. It was such a lewd face, and you were intrigued.

You hit the tip button, and donated enough to make the toy vibrate for 15 seconds on a medium pulse. It sounded like a good enough place to start. The cartoony sound of coins clattering together came from your laptop speakers as the notifications began popping up in chat.

You weren’t the only one with the idea to start him off strong, and you worried for a moment about the length of the show with just how long and how intense the vibrations were going to be.

“Ah, thank y-” he started, and then the most pornographic moan you’d ever heard ripped from his throat as the toy started up. “Oh fuck, fuck, fuck… holy shit.”

Kuroiro threw his head back, his muscles tensing and his hips rising off of the floor from the sensation. His legs were shaking and his breaths came out in uneven pants. “Oh god, th-this is… oh fuck right against my prostate. Ohhhhh~” he groaned, barely coherent. From the angle that he was at you could see his dick harden significantly, and he roamed his hands up and down his thighs as if he could barely hold back from touching himself.

More donations and tips flooded in, keeping the toy going for longer and longer.

“Mmm, oh god you guys wanna make me cum don’t you? Such eager little whores. It’s so cute but we c-can’t have that just yet, yeah?”

This went on for a while. Just about every time the toy calmed down and Kuroiro let his body relax, more tips would cause it to continue pulsing deep in his ass, and the longer it dragged on the more intense and sloppy his moans and movements got. He hadn’t even touched his cock once and you could see the dark spot forming on the strained fabric of his boxers.

‘How much to take them off, pretty boy?’ you commented, and just like before he grinned from seeing your name. I just happened with yours, and you weren’t sure why, but it sent a rush of heat down your body when he did.

“Mm for you, y/n baby, you just gotta keep calling me pretty.”

Fuck.

A few arguments broke out in the chat at that, some calling unfair treatment, some commenting on how he seemed excited to get a message from you, and others that were far more threatening. ‘Just wait until vantabussywhore gets online, bet they’ll have a tipping war.’

“Oh no,” he groaned, slowly working his shirt over his abs, “Now that’d be something to see, wouldn’t it? My two biggest fans going at it?”

‘Vantafan wouldn’t stand a chance,’ someone said, ‘they’re new, and probably have good money but vantawhore gets all the private shows and special shoutouts.’

For some reason knowing that there was someone else willing to shell out just as much or even more as you had you flooding with jealousy. It’s not your fault you were only just learning about his shows and content, why should they get special privileges and priority just because they’d been here longer?

You were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even notice he’d completely stripped, and was now sitting on his knees for the camera, which focused on his muscled abs, strong thighs, and very erect cock. Just like in his VODs, he was so gorgeous.

‘Such a pretty prince for me’ you commented, and attached a generous tip to the message.

The toy went off again, and he moaned at your words and the stimulation, “Oh, thank you y/n. Fuck I can’t wait to cum for you baby.”

The show went on this way for quite a while without much really changing. He’d stroke himself, his body would react when the toy switched on, and plenty of chat interactions, but ultimately you thought you enjoyed his VODs more.

That opinion changed, however, when he hit the predetermined goal and chat lit up with hundreds of donations. All of them aimed with one goal in mind: make vantabussy blow his load for the world to see.

You could see his body break out in goosebumps as the toy started up again, Kuroiro frantically fucking up into his fist. “Oh shit, you really want -ohhh hhhhhahhhh- to see me cum, huh? Why the h-hurry? Ngh- fuck okay, okay I’ll give you what you want, y/n,” he moaned, and you’d forgotten that he was going to be getting off to you, for you.

You grabbed your vibrator, finally, and attacked your clit with it, letting yourself melt at the sensations. More and more donations flooded in, keeping the vibrator on and it wasn’t long before a loud cry of your name had you hyperfocusing. Pump after pump of creamy white cum coated his belly, and his whole body tensed and flexed with effort and pleasure. “Oh fuck, y/n, I’m cumming. I’m cumming for you, princess, oh my god. Feels so good, you feel so good! Gonna fill you up, baby, ohhhhhh y/n….”

That last broken moan of your name was enough to send you over the edge, hurtling towards your own orgasm. Once you came to enough to refocus on his stream, the tips continued flooding in, alongside comments of how sexy he is and how lucky you are. You loaded up the rest of your coins into one big donation and hazily typed out your message.

‘So pretty. Thanks for cumming with me.’

He smiled lazily at you, “damn you’re gonna take top spot with all these tips, baby. You really like me that much?”

Top spot? Like? Most donations? Now that was a title you wouldn’t mind. You looked around for the information, bought some more coins, and sent it through without any attached message. You’d bested the previous top donator, vantawhore, and upped the ante by double. Reckless spending? Perhaps. Did that mean picking up more patrols to make up for taking so much from your savings? Yes. Was it worth it? Absolutely.

“Holy shit, y/n. Thank you so much. Next time you’re here I’ll give you a special treat just for that, okay?” he chuckled, his grin just growing wider.

“Thank you all for cumming with me, I’ll see you later.” And then the stream cut.

That happened. You were so wrapped up in everything, in this new world of Kuroiro “vantabussy” Shihai, that time not only got away from you, but also so did your common sense. You cringed looking at your transaction history, realizing just how much you’d spent on him over the last 24 hours. Guess you really were his new biggest fan, huh?

And tomorrow you’d have to face him, even just in passing, because you were scheduled for patrols back to back. Not like it’d be an issue, really, you supposed. Considering how he actually hated you. It’s good he didn’t realize it was you behind vantafan666, because that would have definitely put a strain on your professional relationship.

You felt… strange. Like you were in a sort of limbo caught between your feelings that were just starting to develop for him and the fact that he really wanted nothing to do with you. If the fact that he’d just been acting out of sorts to put you off and drive you away was as true as you figured, then you had no idea what you’d done to cause such a reaction.

You’d been nothing but nice to him, so you thought. Always attempting small talk and asking about his day up until he started acting so weird. What had changed to make him hate you? As far you could remember…nothing. It was troubling but maybe you could at least show your support to him in this way? If he wanted nothing to do with you then you could do that, keep your distance in person and avoid him like he wanted. And at night, you could tip during his shows, buy his photopacks and VODs. It wasn’t conventional by any means, but it was the only thing you can think of.

And maybe it was better this way. You’d save him the horror of interacting in person, and become his number one fan online. And maybe when the time was right you could reveal yourself and change his opinion of you. Or ruin your relationship with him altogether.

As you readied yourself for your shift, you desperately wanted to reach out to him, ask him about why he’d hated you and what you’d done, but that would defeat the point. Avoiding him would be difficult, but you were sure you could pull it off.

The commute to work was wrought with nerves, knowing that he’d be changing shifts with you at the end of the day. But at least you had all day to figure out a more in-depth game plan.

Your shift was long and uneventful, scheduled just for your patrol before the weekend. No villains to stop or thieves to deter. Just a little old lady to help cross the street and a cat to rescue from a tree. The people were nice, though, and it was the perfect opportunity to overthink yourself into knots about Kuroiro.

Every plan or idea or thought you had throughout the day vacated your mind as you passed him on your way back to your agency. It would be more accurate to say you nearly barrelled straight into him. Again.

“Woah, watch it,” he said abruptly, making sure to avoid you by side-stepping. When he noticed the look on your face, though, he paused. “Hey, you good?”

You were looking up at him with wide, owlish eyes, as if he was the most insanely incredible thing you’d seen in ages. Your mouth went dry and your palms got sweaty as images flitted through your mind. His photosets, VODs, and the show you’d watched just the night before, the way he’d reached the height of pleasure with your name on his lips. Your name that didn’t belong to you.

“O-oh, yeah. Sorry.” You said hurriedly, scurrying away as quickly as you could and leaving a very curious and confused Vantablack in your wake. All of that stressing and worrying for nothing because you’d run into him anyway and proceeded to make an awkward situation even worse.

Fuck was he always that hot? After seeing the man beneath the mask, so to speak, it was easier to notice those little things about him. Like just how muscular he was, or how tall, or how… big. Your face got hotter and hotter as you went about your evening routine, thoughts lingering on the man that hated you.

This began a new normal. On his off days you’d watch his streams, tip absorbent amounts just to get the top spot and hear him call out your name when he finished. Sometimes he’d let the top few donors in on a private show, you included, where he’d ask you about personal things. Things that weren’t relevant to anything going on, like your hobbies and your job and if you liked anyone. To which, your answer was, of course, “I like you.”

And it kept going, streams where you would pour filth into his chat, and he’d spill it from his lips. Nights where you promised to cum together, despite the barrier of a screen and anonymity. Even the regulars in the chat started to enjoy the banter and chemistry between you, going so far as to tip just for Kuroiro to do whatever you asked, or write your name on his cock, or whatever they could think of.

You’d spend his streams riling each other up, teasing and dirty talking and blowing your entire spending budget. It was worth it, because during those times you felt like Kuroiro actually liked you, even though he had no idea who you were.

And, oh, how your affections grew fonder by the day. Despite his usual avoidance of you at work, you really fell hard for the man. How could you not? Having spent so much, chatted so much, cum so much with him. Feeling like you were the only two people in the stream, as if it were a private call where he was getting you off, and you were getting him off. And somewhere along the way you fell for him. Hard.

Even beyond a sexual attraction, you found yourself doing little things around the agency to make his day go easier. Making sure there was a fresh pot of coffee on in the employee lounge, anonymously leaving a box of fresh donuts for the night shift and including his favorite, and even occasionally leaving little handwritten notes of encouragement on his lunchbox. Part of that, also, was avoiding him like the plague.

If he didn’t like you, then you wouldn’t force him to be in your presence. That’s the least you could do, right? One less stressor on him, despite how much you really, really wanted to see him in person. To look at his handsome face and hear his pretty voice, to see him with fresh eyes, no longer as the awkward weird guy he pretended to be in front of you, but as someone strong, sweet, and fun. And sexy.

You considered for a moment making a fanpage for him, but would that be too much? Instead, you elected to fill your phone with the few pictures of him you found online, from articles and newscasts, candids and press, you just couldn’t help yourself. He’d never be yours, not really, so sighing longingly while scrolling through the folder you’d made just for him on your phone had to be good enough.

Watching his streams and buying his content had to be good enough.

Why couldn’t you be good enough?

As the year drew to a close, Vantabussy announced a special, end of year prize for his loyal and most faithful viewers. It’s not uncommon, a lot of people do it to show their appreciation to their audience.

You joined the stream, as usual, sitting comfortably on your bed with your laptop to watch and listen and participate as you normally did. Your heart skipped a beat when the camera flicked on, and Kuroiro made his appearance. He looked exceptionally good, with his hair pulled back and wearing what looked to be a complicated harness made of red velvet. He also wore a red blanket wrapped around his waist to hide himself until the time was right.

“Thanks for tuning in today,” he said with a light chuckle, “I’m announcing the end of year prizes and their winners before we start, so please have some patience while we get through it, and then the fun stuff will happen.”

He winked, darted his tongue out to wet his lips and then smirked playfully. Fuck, he really was so effortlessly attractive, wasn’t he? No wonder he made good money doing this.

“First, I want to say a big thank you to all of you for supporting me. Whether you tip, or just enjoy the show, knowing I can make others feel good makes me happy! I’d give each of you a kiss on the cheek if I could!”

“Anyway, I’d like to thank my top ten supporters this year, who interacted, donated, and supported me the most. I’m going to do a private show just for you, with some special caveats, I hope you look forward to it.” From there he listed off the usernames of the winners, and it was no surprise that you were among them. Had you really spent so much on him over the last few months?

“I’ve also recorded a special VOD that’s going to be free for everyone, a little thanks from me. And finally for the big prize, for my top supporter this year, you get a choice. Either a private session with me, where we record a VOD together, or a one on one session. That choice is yours, vantafan, I will private message you after the show. Thank you for being my #1 this year!”

He smiled widely, genuinely, and it was meant just for you. The chat went wild, congratulating the winners, lamenting on how they wished they could afford more, asking when he’d take that blanket off.

But you were caught up on one thing: the potential to get to be with him, face to face, for real, in person. However, if you chose that, he’d for sure know it was you, right? And that would just be awkward, considering how he actually hated you.

Or did he? You’d been nothing but yourself over the months in the chat, and you’d barely spoken to him in person. Maybe he just hated the idea of you? Or had a problem with you as a hero in an attempt to drum up publicity from the drama, and you just hadn’t taken the bait yet?

Maybe there was a chance, and you could explain to him…

Just as you were running through your thoughts and getting distracted, Kuroiro flicked the lights off, plunging the screen, and your room, into inky blackness.

“Today’s special treat is something I’ve been thinking about for a while.”

Just as suddenly everything was illuminated in a dark purple: black lights. And Kuroiro was on his knees in front of the camera, barely visible in the darkness, with bright, neon patches of white painted on his skin, glowing beneath the special lighting.

The head of his cock, subsequent rings going down his shaft, and a variety of different designs painted along his body, focusing on the most sensitive parts of him. Rings around his nipples, and when he leaned back you could see arrows pointing to his asshole. There were bands around his arms to accentuate his muscles, and lines tracing down his abs, his hips, all but pointing directly to his dick.

And then he produced a brightly lit, neon pink dildo. At first Kuroiro didn’t strike you as a switch, but after watching him for so long, learning his kinks, bantering with him, that became very obvious. Though, even while bouncing on a long, thick silicone cock, he’d still lightly degrade the audience, cooing about how dirty they are for liking to watch him.

Fuck, you wanted him so bad.

You watched intently as he sunk down on the dildo, the bright pink disappearing into his hole, making for an interesting and fascinating show as you could map just how deep it was going. He moaned when fully seated, swirling his hips to rock against his prostate, drawing another sweet sound from his lips.

“Mmmm, fuck, it’s been a while since I’ve used one of these, hasn’t it?” he cooed, “Feels so good, shit.” Slowly, he rose until the head nearly popped out, and then slammed back down, setting a slow but hard pace. It was mesmerizing, the way he swallowed up the cock, the way the lines on his body moved and flexed with his muscles, and how his pretty, perfect dick bounced with each motion.

You snaked your hand down between your legs, typing with one hand. You look so good, baby.

“Hhhahhh, thank you, sweetheart, but you look better.” It was a sweet sentiment, and it made you burn. Of course, he couldn’t see you, but the thought of him thinking you looked good in any capacity made your heart race.

The tips started pouring in, as they always did, and Kuroiro thanked each and every one. Some requested for him to do certain things, like play with his nipples, smack his ass, or choke himself, all of which he did without hesitation, and all of which drew you closer to your orgasm. You ruthlessly played with your clit, wishing - pretending - it was him. How would his hands feel on your body? Would he touch you gently? Would he kiss you softly? Or would it be more aggressive, more filled with fire and desire?

Would he hold you down and fuck you hard, or would it be slow and sensual? There were so many questions, so many scenarios to fantasize about.

As he continued to ride the dildo and stroke himself at the same time, he spoke directly to you. “Mm you know, vantafan, I’ll be happy with whichever prize you chose, but… I really… *fuck*, I really hope you choose to do the VOD with me. I want to taste your sweet pussy in person. I want - oh god, mmmm - I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

That hit you like a freight train, the realization that you could have him all you wanted. That he wanted you just as badly. That you had the opportunity right in front of you to fulfill your fantasies and more.

The only caveat was that you were sure he’d call the whole thing off once he learned your real identity. How could you go about making this work and maintaining your anonymity? You could wear a mask, perhaps. One of those halloween masquerade ones that’d look real pretty on camera. But what if it fell off during whatever activities you got up to?

The blacklights. Of course! If you combined those two things, surely he wouldn’t find out the truth! Wearing a mask and dimming the lights so much that even if it somehow got removed, he couldn’t figure it out before you managed to recover. It was perfect.

“Gods, it’s going to be a quick one tonight,” Kuroiro’s deep, keening voice cut through your thoughts. “I just.. Fuck I just can’t take how good it feels like this, and thinking about you, vantafan. It’s just too much. You want me to cum, baby? Want me to paint my stomach white for you?”

Yes, you typed and then tipped what was probably way, way too much for such a short show, cum for me with my name on your lips.

And that was all the permission he needed, spurts of glowing white cum coated his abs as he moaned a broken cry of your name. Your real name, not your username. It was rare he used it, usually just when he was dirty talking with you or cumming, but it was enough to send you over the edge yourself.

Kuroiro wrapped up the stream as usual, and you were left in darkness when he cut the feed. Would he really be messaging you to set this whole thing up?

It wasn’t a few minutes later when the notification dinged on your laptop that someone had sent you a PM. Your heart shot to your throat as you opened it, seeing that it was indeed from Vantabussy.

Y/N,

I hope you enjoyed the show tonight, sorry it was short! Let me know which prize you decide on. If you want to do the VOD it doesn’t matter where you’re located, I’ll buy a plane ticket and pay for a hotel room, okay?

God, he really was a gentleman. You really had fallen for him, not just for his sex appeal but for his personality. His real personality.

I did! The blacklights were very sexy, and I was wondering when I come in for the VOD if we could use them? I’d like to keep my identity a secret if that’s okay.

You waited, probably for too long, for him to respond. But, oh, how you weren’t prepared for the message you received.

You’re so fucking hot, oh my god. Here’s my number, we can discuss things further through texts if that’s okay with you?

xxx-xxx-xxxx

It was more than okay. And he thought you were hot? He hadn’t even seen you, yet! What was he on about? You eagerly plugged his number into your phone and were about to message him when you realized that he might already have your number saved under your hero name. You worked at the same agency, and crossed paths a few times, after all.

Or maybe he didn’t, because he hated you. You had to remind yourself of this, and every time you did it hurt a little more. Right, he could never know the truth because of that. What would he think if he found out? You swallowed hard, and took a chance.

Texting with him, it turned out, was even more fun than bantering with him through his stream. He was easy to talk to, funny, and sweet, and such a far cry from the Kuroiro you knew from work. The Kuroiro who’d spout such strange things about the darkness, and the void or whatever. Who’d sometimes say out-of-pocket stuff for no reason other than to make you feel uncomfortable. It was obvious that it was an act, because he was so different like this. This had to be the real him.

Of course, you lived in the same city, so there was no need for him to purchase plane tickets or pay for hotel rooms, and setting up a day and time was easy enough. Too easy, almost, and too soon. This weekend, specifically.

And, oh, how time flies when you’re anxiously awaiting meeting the man you loved for an anonymous hook-up that he’d record and broadcast to thousands. Reality started setting in the closer you got, knowing you’d be kissing him, touching him, fucking him. Knowing he’d be running his hands on your body and making you feel good.

But he was such a gentleman, texting you all week to quiet your nerves, telling you that he wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. And even going so far as to send you a few voice memos just to tell you how excited he was, and how much he really, genuinely appreciated you and your support. That it was all he could do to try and make you feel good and cum for real and not just from behind a screen.

Surprisingly, picking out a mask wasn’t difficult. You just went to the nearest party supply store and found a half-face rabbit mask, with lace details and long, plastic ears. It’d do well to mask all but your eyes and your mouth.

The harder part was picking out matching lingerie to wear, because you couldn’t exactly go on camera and knowingly go into your first time with him without at least looking a little nice. After a trip across the city, hitting up every lingerie and adult store you could find, eventually you found the perfect set.

A black lace and leather bralette, with straps that accentuated your tits, and a small, strappy thong. You chose a matching garter belt and thigh-high stockings to complete the ensemble. Not bad, you thought upon trying on the whole get-up in front of your mirror. It fit well, hugged all the right places and you genuinely thought you wouldn’t be able to tell who you were. With your hair down, especially, as you usually wore it up for patrols. Surely there’d be no way he could connect you to the hero you were, and with the added protection of the darkness and black lights you were feeling secure and ready.

Well, despite your nerves. It’s not exactly a common arrangement, but you couldn’t pass it up. To know, finally, what kind of lover Kuroiro would be. To feel him touch you, to think for even just a little while, that maybe he could love you, too.

Even though he wouldn’t.

You steadied your nerves as best as you could as you made your way up to Kuroiro’s apartment. You felt jittery, giddy as your stomach filled with butterflies and your heart fluttered wildly. This was it. Finally. You were going to meet him, not as Vantablack, not as vantabussy, but as Kuroiro. As Shihai.

You swallowed hard, standing just outside of his door. A deep inhale, a slow exhale, as you placed the mask over your face and rang the doorbell. He was quick to answer, slinging the door open and leaning on the doorframe with one arm propped above his head.

Immediately you were taken with just how good he looked like this. Wearing a grey sleeveless turtleneck and black jeans with his hair tied half-up and a few strands falling in his face. He looked you up and down, towering over you, and grinned.

“Damn, you are just as fine as I thought you were. Holy shit.” he said with a chuckle, and then stepped aside to let you into his apartment. It was well decorated, not too large and not too small. Clean, and comfortable. He led you deeper inside, and you watched him walk. The muscles of his back showing through, his arms built so well shown off in all their glory, and those jeans made his ass look delicious.

You were in over your head.

He led you into the kitchen, instructed you to sit down at the bar and brought out a glass of water for you.

“So,” he said, leaning against the bar across from you and looking you over again. Like he couldn’t get enough of you. “I’ll just cut right to it, okay? We can go at your pace, establish a safe word. Tell me what you like, what you want, and I’ll do my best to make sure you have a good time. This is my first time doing anything with someone else, but I’m going to try to make it easy for you, alright?”

You nodded, smiled, “Okay, that sounds good. I hope I’m okay… I mean… I hope your audience likes me.”

“Babe, I like you, that’s all that matters.”

Oh, that made your heart do funny things, combined with the look he gave you, you weren’t sure you’d survive this. You sat and talked with him about what was going to happen, and he made it so easy. He didn’t judge you for your kinks or your desires, and made it very apparent that you were in control here. If you said stop, he’d stop.

But the longer you talked, the more you got the feeling that there was something you weren’t getting. Like there was something he was hiding. It was in the way he’d glance at you with this unreadable expression when he thought you weren’t looking, or the smile he’d sometimes give you that made you think he knew more than you realized.

There’s no way he’d know your secret. You were careful.

Once you were ready, your nerves calmed as much as possible, he led you back to his recording room, his hand falling to your waist to guide you through his home. It was so warm through the fabric of your shirt, and you had to fight not to let the shivers run up and down your spine.

The recording room was just as you’d expected it to be, having seen it so many times already over the countless streams and recordings you’d watched. Decorated in mostly greys, whites, and blacks, with the occasional red accents. It suited him, and you smiled softly as you watched him walk ahead of you to maneuver the camera and recording gear.

In the center of the room was a queen size bed, plush blankets and pillows just for the sake of looking nice as Kuroiro got off. A plush, red rug where he usually recorded, was laid out just at the foot of the bed. All around were things he’d use in his streams, or videos. A collection of toys were displayed on a low dresser, an array of dildos, cock rings, vibrators, wands, bullets, restraints, whips, floggers, ropes. Just about anything you could possibly want to use or experiment with.

“Wow,” you said, grasping the full scope of the room at last, “You’re really prepared, huh?”

He laughed, a deep, pleasant sound, and glanced at you over his shoulder, “Yeah, well, you kind of accumulate these things over time.”

Walking deeper into the room as Kuroiro continued to fuss with the equipment, you sunk slowly into the bed. It was far softer and more comfortable than you thought at first, and already your mind was going to naughty places.

“Alright,” he said, walking over to sit next to you, “I think maybe we should break the ice a little before I turn the camera on. We already have chemistry, but I want the audience to really feel that, and I don’t think they will if we’re all awkward at first.” He chuckled again, and you felt your face heat up.

“Okay… but first can you turn the lights off? I’d be more comfortable.”

“Of course,” he said, hopping up to flick off the switch, and use a remote control to turn on the blacklights. There were several around the room, lining the walls. It illuminated everything in a dark purple light, just enough to make out shapes, and activate anything that was white or otherwise bright in a fluorescent glow.

Kuroiro sat back on the bed beside you, and leaned back on both of his arms, tilting his head towards you and grinning. His teeth were so white that they shone in the light and for some reason it made your heart pound even harder. What would he taste like?

“What… did you have in mind?” You ventured, shifting uncomfortably under his intense gaze.

“Hmm,” he said, “I’m going to kiss you.”

You didn’t have time to think about that before his lips were on yours. Finally. Finally after all this time, you got to feel him, taste him. One hand came up to the side of your neck, his thumb tracing your jaw as the other fingers raked through your hair. His lips were soft, and practiced as he kneaded them against yours.

He didn’t miss the way you sighed and melted into him, and you were being pushed back until you were laying flat and Kuroiro was on top of you. One hand still at your throat and the other on your waist, his hips slotted between your thighs. He opened his mouth, and you could hear him hum as he licked over your lips, could hear him chuckle as you allowed him access to you.

He tasted of mint and cloves, an odd combination but not unpleasant in the slightest. He laved over your tongue, explored the expanse behind your teeth as his grip on your hip tightened. You could feel the hard press of his cock against your thigh, dangerously close to your core. You couldn’t blame him, as you tangled your fingers in his hair, undoing the hair tie that held it back and letting it fall around his face, because you were just as soaked.

He drew back, just enough to snag your lower lip between his teeth and pull gently before kissing you again. You trailed your hands down to his shoulders, and hooked your arms around his ribcage to pull him closer to you. To press his chest to yours and your bodies flush. This earned a low, desperate groan from deep in his throat, a sound that made you clench around nothing.

Kuroiro started to pull back, but you stopped him by closing your lips around his tongue and sucking, bobbing your head slightly for a moment before letting him free. He propped himself up on his elbows beside your head, looking down at you as best he could through the dim lighting.

“Fuck,” he sighed, then chuckled again, “you’re perfect.”

Heat flooded your cheeks, and you were glad for the mask, and the dark. He shifted slightly, just so that he could run a thumb along your cheek just beneath where the plastic and lace of the mask ended.

“Is it wrong of me to want you to remove this thing?”

You paused, wide-eyed. Of course it wasn’t wrong, you wanted to remove it, too. But that… that would ruin everything. Would you be satisfied with just this? Just the small make out that happened? You hated lying to him, hated feeling like he genuinely cared about you but knowing it was a ruse.

“I can’t,” you said, “I… I don’t want to risk my job.”

Of all things, he smiled, “I understand. My co-workers found out about me and they’ve been weird ever since. Most of them just avoid me, some of them act really strangely, and y/n… well,” he laughed again, but this time it was hollow, bitter, “nevermind about her, this is about you and me.”

He kissed you again, hotter, deeper, as if trying to distract from what he was thinking, what he was about to say. But that burned inside of you, what was it about you that bothered him so much? This was a good chance to ask him, without him knowing the truth, and figure out what you’d done.

You kissed him back, first, though. Because you’d be a fool not to. He was an amazing kisser, and as he tasted you again he rolled his hips against yours. His hard length pressing against your core and dragging out a soft moan.

You broke the kiss, head fuzzy from just how good it made you feel.

“Y/n… the one you work with?”

“Yeah.” he said, dropping his gaze to the side.

“What about her?”

“I don’t know, she just… She’s completely avoiding me,” he looked at you again, that same unreadable expression from before twisting his handsome features. “I guess it’s my fault though.”

“What do you mean?”

At this, he rolled off of you, laying on his back beside you, “You didn’t come here to be my therapist, y/n,” he said with another chuckle, a grin to mask the truth. Ironic.

“I want to listen,” you said, turning towards him and propping yourself up on one elbow to look at him properly. “If it’s weighing on you, it’s important to me.”

He sighed heavily, a rush of air that all but collapsed his chest. He must have been holding it in for a long time, finally able to let it out. Just why he hated you.

He lulled his head to the side, to look up at you, “Are you sure? I don’t want it to ruin this thing between us…”

“I’m sure.”

He considered for a moment, gathering his thoughts, and then sat up fully. Kuroiro crossed his legs, and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees as he spilled his confession.

“She… well okay, I guess I should say I’m not the smoothest guy. I do a good job on cam, I know how to, like, be the kind of guy who sweet talks, you know? But around her I just can’t seem to channel that same energy. I always clam up and say weird shit, or get so nervous I just can’t speak at all.”

“The truth is I’ve liked her for a long time. We went to high school together, and it’s been since then,” His shoulders scrunched up as he curled in on himself more, and you could practically feel the shame and embarrassment pouring from him. “But I just can’t seem to have a real conversation with her. And lately she’s been outright avoiding me completely. It sucks. I’m sure she hates me.”

Oh. Oh.

So that’s how it is? He doesn’t hate you, he’s just… nervous? Because he likes you? Because he likes you?

You shifted on the bed, crawling on your knees to wrap your arms around him from behind and pull him close to you. You could fix this. He melted into you again, let you pull him against you as you cradled him gently and ran your fingers through his hair.

The cat’s out of the bag.

“The worst part is,” he said, looking up at you, “is I know the truth. And it’s so much easier behind a screen.”

You froze, ice ran through your veins. He knows? How long had he known? Why didn’t he say anything? A million thoughts ran through your mind as you processed his words, and even through the dim light, he could see your eyes go wide.

You both just looked at each other, gazes locked. A stalemate.

“I know,” he said after a long, long moment, “But we can keep up this ruse, if it makes you feel better.”

You swallowed hard, searching his face for any sign of hesitation. For any sign of the hatred you’d been so sure he harbored for you. But there was nothing like that. His expression was soft, pleading, almost.

“How long?” you whispered.

“From the start.”

Your pulse drummed in your ears, anxiety gnawed at your gut as that sank in. He’d known from the very beginning who you are, and he still went along with everything.

“How?”

He smirked then, “You know the site shows me the real name of everyone who donates for legal purposes?”

“Shit.”

At that he laughed, openly, brightly. Such a sweet sound that seemed to halt all of that fear and anxiety that was welling up inside of you, and replaced it with light-hearted fluttering.

“It was just so much easier to talk to you through a screen. It felt natural, it felt real.”

He moved then, removing himself from your lap and folded one leg beneath him as he leaned closer to you. He never looked away from your eyes, even as he brought both hands up to gently remove the mask that failed to keep your identity a secret. You let him, all but unable to speak.

He smiled warmly, placing the mask on the dresser, “There you are, y/n.”

“Here I am.”

“Can I kiss you again?”

“Please…” you whispered, and his lips were on yours in an instant. Both hands cupping your face, pressing in on you just like before. But this time was different now that everything was out in the open. It was slow, and sweet, but still charged with as much heat as both of you could muster.

He hadn’t asked if you felt the same, though he didn’t need to. That much was obvious, at least.

Your back hit the bed once more, your head resting gently on plush pillows as Kuroiro kissed you. He ran his hands down your sides, over your hips, to squeeze your thighs. He was hard, harder than before, you could feel it pressing into your core and flooding your body with heat.

Kuroiro rolled his hips into yours, dragging his hands along to your waistband, toying with the fabric as if he were going to remove it.

You broke the kiss, though he rested his forehead against yours, “What about the..the VOD?” You asked, getting the hint that he was ready to go.

“Fuck the VOD,” he said, voice laced with conviction and then his lips were on yours again. You moved together to help the other remove their clothes, and once he really saw what you were wearing beneath, he had to pause.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he whispered,”holy shit. You wore this for me?” His eyes raked over your body, over the straps and the lace, the lingerie you’d picked out just for this. You felt heated under his gaze, blush rising to your cheeks, burning your ears as you nodded.

“I don’t know if I want to leave it on, or rip it off. You’re so pretty, but I bet you’re even prettier when there’s nothing covering you.”

It was slow, the way he ran his fingers under the straps, carefully sliding them over your skin. The ghost of his fingertips sent shivers racing down your spine, your skin to pebble in gooseflesh. He took his time undressing you from that final layer, and while he did, you took the chance to really admire him.

Real life was nothing compared to what you’d seen in the months past. The subtle twitches and flexes of his muscles and subtle glances, even in this dim light, were far more noticeable. And there were other things, too, the way he smelled, citrus, clove, musky and citrusy. The way he felt under your touch, smooth, hard, electric.

As Kuroiro began peeling off pieces of your lingerie, he left small, soft kisses in his wake. They were gentle, reverent, and his breath on your skin tickled.You were so close like this, and you found yourself touching him, too. Running your hands along his chest, down his arms, over his hips. You traced the lines of his torso, his thighs, getting to know him and his body.

Other than the obvious, figuring out where was sensitive, what made his cock jump, and what made him shiver. His shoulders, you found out, were sensitive, as were his hips. You paid special attention there, more a tease – a promise – than anything else. Raking your nails along the v that led to his dick, watching him tense and huff a heavy breath as he continued slowly freeing you from the last of your clothing.

And then you were both bare, and there was a moment where you just drank each other in. This was real. This was happening. You were finally with him, and he was with you. No pretenses, no fake names, no hiding behind a computer. Just you and Kuroiro, the man you’d fallen for.

And who’d fallen for you, apparently.

Tentatively you reach out again, dragging your index down the length of his torso, coming to rest just above his cock. He never broke eye contact with you while you did, and you were more than happy to watch as his face twisted with pleasure as you wrapped your hand around him at the base. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you could see his shoulders rising and falling as his breathing increased.

Slowly, with just as much care as he’d shown you a moment ago, you stroked him once, twice. Starting a pace that was ginger, and had Kuroiro groaning low in his chest.

“Fuck,” he hummed as you picked up the pace, “Easy, y/n, I’m really worked up right now, you turn me on so much… This isn’t like my shows. I don’t want to cum yet.”

You smiled at him, and fought the urge to jerk him to completion right there, just to know that you could. Just to see the pretty look on his face and watch the way his body twitched and convulsed as he came.

But that’s not why you were here. Technically, this whole thing wasn’t why you were here, either. You both wanted this, though, and you could figure out the VOD later. Right now you just wanted to be with him, be close and intimate with him, touch him and hear him moan out your name when he finishes. Just like on the streams, except better. Because this time it’s in person, and this time you both know the truth.

He kissed you again, it was deliberate as he lowered you back onto the sheets. He parted too soon, kissing again down your jaw, your neck, over your clavicle. Kuroiro placed a hand on either breast and kneaded gently, sucking a love mark onto the tender skin of your throat. You keened, arching your back into his touch.

More kisses down, over the crest of your tit until he took your nipple into his mouth, the other between two fingers, and paid special attention there. You could feel his tongue flick out and over your hardening bud as he rolled the other between his fingers. If he was already able to make you feel so good, make you so wet, from just this… You wondered just how long you could last when he was really trying to make you cum.

He continued kissing down your body, occasionally sucking a little hickey here and there, until he was seated between your thighs. With his strong arms he lifted both of your thighs over his shoulders, and pulled you closer to him. You could feel his breath ghost along your soaked core and shivered.

He looked up at you for a moment, gauging your reaction, looking for any sign of hesitancy. You combed your fingers through his hair, and he gave you that signature toothy grin in return.

His mouth was hot against your cunt as he buried his face into you, licking a long stripe up your folds from your soaking hole to your clit. Kuroiro pointed his tongue and flicked over your sensitive pearl, drawing sweet moans from you which went straight to his cock. He slid his thumb through your pooling slick to coat it, and then pushed it slowly into your core. All the while nursing at your clit.

You pressed back further into the bed, fingers curling in his pretty silver hair, as he familiarized himself with your most intimate places. “Oh shit, Kuroiro I’m - “ you tried to say, already feeling yourself tilt towards the edge. A combination of nerves and excitement, anticipation and the buildup over months of craving him and needing his touch.

“Shihai,” he said, drawing back and looking up at you, he continued to massage your sweet spot with his thumb, though, keeping you just at the precipice.

“Sh-Shihai,” you cooed, feeling yourself blush at calling him by his given name. “Please, I'm so close.” You untangled your fingers from his hair, trailing them down his face to gently rub over his cheeks.

There was a whisper of a smirk before he dove back in, attacking your clit with increased vigor and bringing you closer and closer. He reached up with his other hand and clasped it over where yours had fallen to the side, grounding you, keeping you steady as your body shook in anticipation.

Your orgasm crashed over you, intense and powerful. Your thighs shook, your cunt twitching and pulsing on his tongue and around his fingers and just the feeling of you cumming made him groan. Made his cock jump with need. He worked you through it slowly, relishing in your aftershocks with every flick of his tongue or drag of his finger until you were whining and babbling a string of ‘please’s over and over.

When he finally pulled away, his chin covered in your slick and a proud smirk on his face, his deep voice rumbled through you, “You taste so fucking good, holy shit. I don’t know if I can wait any longer, babe.”

You smiled at him hazily, still reeling from just how hard he’d made you cum, and reached out for him with both arms. Shihai gladly came to your embrace, kissing over your neck softly as he slotted his hips between your thighs once more. Only this time there was nothing to keep his painfully hard cock from rubbing right against your overly sensitive core.

He swallowed every quiet mewl with a deep kiss as he rubbed his dick along your folds, covering himself in your arousal in preparation. You could taste yourself on his tongue, feel the wetness of yourself on his lips as he licked into your mouth.

With one hand, he reached down between you, grabbing himself at the base and lining up with your entrance. Slowly, so, so slowly, he pushed in. Just the head, just barely, but it was enough to have you gasping breathy moans of his name.

“You’re so tight, god- is this okay? Does it hurt?”

You shook your head, trailing your fingers up your body to play with your tits and pinch your nipples as he sank further and further into you. Oh, how he was mesmerized by that sight, unable to draw his gaze away from the way you played with yourself. Only when he was fully hilted inside of you did he manage a glance away, down to where you were connected.

“Shihai,” you hummed softly, drawing his attention back to you, “You feel so good! I’ve wanted this for so long, Shihai-”

“Me too,” he groaned, coming to lean forward with his arms on either side of your head and his face just above yours, “God, so fucking long, y/n. I can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

Shihai swallowed hard, then, and just as gingerly rocked his hips back, only to snap them into yours again. Both of you moaned at the feeling as he tilted his head down to rest against your forehead.

The pace he set was deep and slow, each thrust rocking your body beneath him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, slender but muscular, and your arms around his shoulders. His gaze locked onto yours as he carefully, and intently fucked into you. Every drag of his cockhead along your sweet spot making you moan, every push back into your depths making him groan.

“Fuck,” he said breathily, not letting up and keeping the agonizingly slow pace, “You’re so perfect. You’re so fucking perfect. I love you. I love you so much.”

You felt him throb inside of you, felt his hips stutter slightly and you knew he must be getting close. “I love you too, Shihai. P-please, I wanna cum, please make me cum!”

It was as if he’d been waiting for permission, or perhaps just the right time. As soon as those words left your lips he propped himself up further, and started moving like he meant it. The difference was night and day, what were once sensually slow thrusts morphed into desperate snaps of his hips as he pistoned his throbbing cock in and out of you. Kissing against your sweet spot with every motion to make you moan loudly.

“Ngh-fuck, Soon. I’m… soon…” he huffed, and all it took was seeing the desperation and need lacing his features to send you over the edge again. You threw your head back as you came, your mouth falling open in a silent cry. The sight of you made him cum, too, busting deep against your cervix with pump after pump of hot, thick seed.

Once you both came down, panting, chests heaving, and basking in the heady afterglow, you finally said it.

“I love you too, Shihai.”

He smiled, a genuinely joyful expression, and kissed you. It mirrored your very first kiss, perfect, passionate, and sweet. Full of love, full of emotions that you’d both spent too long pining for. He held you close for a while, kissing you like that, lavishing in your closeness, until he figured it was time to clean up.

Carefully he pulled out, letting his cum all but gush onto his sheets, and helped you up. You walked together into his bathroom, where he started the shower and grabbed a couple of towels. Every time he passed you, he paused just long enough to plant a kiss somewhere on your body. Your forehead, your cheek, your shoulder, your hand. It didn’t matter.

The water was the perfect temperature when you stepped in, supported by Shihai’s strong arms. It was a relief to wash yourself off, to clean yourself after such a passionate display, and he was quick to help you.

His hands were so gentle as they rubbed his body wash over your skin. Careful, and almost reverent, and once again, more kisses. You giggled, realizing that he really was spoiling you with them.

Shihai grinned down at you as he squeezed a dollop of shampoo out onto his palm, “What’s that for?”

Long fingers massaged the citrus-scented foam into your scalp and ran it through your hair. It smelled like him, and you delighted in knowing you’d be carrying that with you.

“You just really like giving me kisses.”

“Oh… well, yeah. I mean, I’ve waited so long for this – for you – and now that you’re here I’m going to treat you the way you deserve. Including plenty of kisses.”

As if to accentuate his point, he pressed his lips to yours. It was soft, and over quickly, but it left you feeling fuzzy and warm.

Once you were clean, you returned the favor of washing him off. It was nice: getting to run your fingers and hands along his onyx skin. Getting to feel his muscles move with each breath and each subtle motion. The expression he made when you washed his hair, too, was one of pure bliss and happiness.

When you stepped out of the shower, Shihai was quick to wrap you up in a large, plush towel, and then pull you flush against him. He was still naked, but you didn’t care, just happy to be enveloped in his warmth.

“I really do love you,” he mumbled, “And I have, for a long time. Even though I always choked up and couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. You’re so strong, and so brave, and so kind. I can’t believe you feel the same way.”

You nuzzled your face deeper into his chest, “I really thought you hated me, you know? I’m glad… I’m glad things worked out.”

“Yeah, me too.”

#kuroiro shihai #kuroiro shihai x reader #kuroiro shihai smut #kuroiro x reader #kuroiro smut #kuroiro fluff #kuroiro #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #mha fluff #bnha fluff #bnha smut #boku no hero academia

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jemmydoolz · 4 years

Text

Edgar Has Always Been Kind of a Bitch

hi okay so it's a little after midnight but I'm posting a fic rn bc it's the first fic I've written in like,, a yr and a half and also I'm rlly excited abt it??

anyway battle buddies/fahc jeremwood angst based on ramblings in a gc

(warning for minor assault implications at the beginning, and brief mentions of a suicide attempt at the end)!!!

Fiona and Gavin decide that what Jeremy needs is a night of bevs, and, to put it simply, get wasted, so the crew settles on going to a club that Friday. Jeremy only has one or two drinks, but boy does he get fucked up.

Ryan’s sitting and talking with Geoff and Jack in a booth, sipping a diet coke. He looks over Jack’s shoulder to see Jeremy standing at the bar with a much taller, more intimidating man looming over him. The guy reaches out toward Jeremy, who leans away from the touch. Jeremy nervously laughs and his eyes frantically dart around for someone, anyone who might be able to help him.

“Hello? Earth to Ryan?” Jack waves her hand in front of Ryan’s face.

“Oh, yeah. Yeah. sorry. Hey, um, I’m gonna go home, I’m just not really feeling great,” Ryan murmurs as he slides out of the booth, already heading toward Jeremy.

“Um, alright, I guess? Drive safe,” Jack calls after him.

Ryan speeds up when he sees the man grab Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy’s face flipped through a thousand emotions at once when he saw Ryan approaching, but eventually landed on confused but grateful. He gave Jeremy a look that said just go with what I’m about to say.

“Hey, babe,” Ryan says. The man immediately drops his grip on Jeremy’s arm. Jeremy does his best not to choke on his own spit when he hears the word babe come out of Ryan’s mouth. He hadn’t heard it in so long, and he didn’t think it would still hurt so much.

“Oh, hey!” Jeremy turns to Ryan and reaches up to peck him on the lips. “Where’d Edgar go? It’s his birthday, I figured he would wanna hang out with his friends!”

Fuck. Mentioning something about their friend ‘Edgar’ was always code for I don’t feel good about this, let’s leave. Edgar’s birthday meant I’m having a panic attack, I need your help. Ryan wanted to punch the guy that was practically feeling Jeremy up. No—he wanted to fucking kill that bastard. He and Jeremy may have had a severe falling out, they may have suffered years of heartache and longing, but he still felt responsible to make sure Jeremy was safe.

“He said he kinda wanted to go home. He went to the bathroom while I found you. You, uh, just about ready?” Ryan’s eyes flitted between Jeremy and the other man, who cleared his throat and mumbled something about needing to go find his friends before walking off.

Jeremy and Ryan both sigh in relief once he’s gone.

“Wanna head outside for some fresh air for a minute?” Ryan asks, getting a meek, obviously shaken-up nod in return.

Jeremy says something that Ryan can’t quite hear over the music as they walk outside.

“Hm?”

“Oh, nothing. It was dumb.” Jeremy shakes his head. Ryan has had enough experience to know that it was better to just leave it alone. They both wordlessly come to a stop and lean against the wall of the building a few yards from the door. Almost as if they had been working as partners for years. They spend a few minutes saying nothing, watching people on the street, looking at the stars in the sky. Ryan can’t help but study the intricacies of Jeremy, realizing that so many things have changed, but somehow almost nothing about him is different. Jeremy’s hair is just a tad bit more grown out than it ever was at the agency (also, it’s bright purple and orange, which is not exactly the most appealing color combination, but that’s a topic for another day), but he still runs his hands through it when he’s lost in thought. It’s curlier than it used to be, but maybe that’s just because it’s longer. He still clenches his jaw so hard it seems like he’s going to break his teeth when he’s scared. He still wears a tank top under his shirt, no matter how hot it is outside. His eyes still crinkle at the corners when he lets out a bark of laughter that Ryan still swears up and down sounds exactly like a squeaky toy. He’s changed, though. Ryan can see in his eyes that he’s become aware of reality. He knows the responsibility he carries, the heavy consequences that come with his actions, that death is around the corner at every moment.

“D’you- d’you want me to take you home?” Ryan says barely above a whisper, but loud enough for Jeremy to hear. “You can go back inside if you want, but I know you always used to want to go home and be alone after Edgar shows up.” Jeremy lets out the tiniest breathy chuckle.

“Edgar has always been kind of a bitch, hasn’t he?” Jeremy says as he looks away from the sky to meet Ryan’s gaze, and his heart falls apart all over again for the thousandth time. That fond look of reminiscence and joy was one Ryan donned frequently at the agency. “I- Yeah. yeah. I’d really appreciate a ride home. I’m just a little too drunk to drive, I think.”

“Alright. I parked just down the street. Penthouse or your apartment?” Ryan hadn’t even noticed that Jeremy did seem somewhat tipsy; his Boston accent slipping in occasionally and his words slurring the tiniest bit.

“Um, apartment,” Jeremy says. “D’you rem-”

“Yes, I remember where your apartment is, Jeremy.”

It’s only a few minutes into the drive to the other side of town when Jeremy pipes up. “I honestly didn’t really expect you to help me. I didn’t expect you to remember Edgar, either. I dunno why I said it, I guess just vaguely hoping you would even though it’s been, what, three years?” he pauses for a moment and just takes in Ryan's profile. “I always hope you remember things from then. I know it went to shit, but we still had so much fun. We made so many memories and did so much dumb shit there. But I’m glad that stupid fuckin’ place collapsed. All of it was complete bullshit. I just wish it all fell apart before we did.”

Ryan doesn’t know how to respond. So he doesn’t.

“All those meetings I had to stay late for? Fuckin’ useless. They served no purpose, and I don't know why I was forced to go to them. I feel like the only reason I had to go to those meetings was because someone was hiding something from me. It was obvious that so many things were kept from us.” Jeremy stops for a second to try to will away the lump rising in his throat. “I thought you were cheating on me. For the longest time. I still don’t know whether you actually were. You were always out on ‘special missions’ and shit.”

The moment Ryan hears Jeremy let out a shaky breath his heart breaks.

“Was it me? Was I not good enough? I promise I tried my hardest to be what you needed. I’m sorry if I wasn’t. All I wanted was the best for you, Ryan. Even now, I just want you to be happy. If you're happier with someone else, then that’s what I want. I don’t blame you, though. I don’t deserve someone like you. You deserve so much better than me. I would do anything for you, Rye. We were together for so long. We did everything together! I thought I was gonna marry you. I was saving up money to get a ring. I guess I was too stupid to see that you didn’t want me anymore.”

Ryan looks over to see the tears staining Jeremy’s cheeks reflecting the soft orange glow of the streetlamps. Is this really what Jeremy thinks?

“I was so in love with you, Ryan Haywood. I’m- I’m still in love with you. I love you so goddamn much it hurts sometimes. Every time I see you hurt, upset, angry, anything other than healthy and happy my heart aches. I’m sorry I wasn't enough. I promise I tried. Fuck, I tried so hard.”

With every sob Jeremy lets out, Ryan's heart breaks just a little bit more. The short distance left until Ryan pulls up to Jeremy’s apartment building is spent wordlessly. Jeremy’s clambering out of the car and reaching to grab the door when Ryan speaks.

“Hey, Jer, do you want me to walk you up? I just want to make sure you’re safe.”

“No. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’ve already been a pain in your ass tonight, I don't need to waste even more of your time. I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything.” Jeremy sniffles and wipes his cheeks, giving a half-hearted smile before shutting the door and walking away.

Ryan sits there for a second, unable to process fully what he just heard. He starts driving without even knowing where he was going, and he’s so lost in his thoughts that suddenly he’s sitting in his car in front of the boardwalk along the beach and crying. He can’t believe anything he was just told—there is no way in hell that the brilliant, witty, talented Jeremy Dooley ever doubts his worth. It’s jarring to think that part of it was because of Ryan. He was going on extra missions because the agency was growing more and more demanding. For months they tormented Ryan with the threat of kicking out Jeremy. They said they’d do other things to him that Ryan doesn’t want to remember. Why did Jeremy never bring it up? Why did he just accept that Ryan had ‘moved on?’ Their lives were so intertwined with one another that Ryan never felt truly whole again. The only reason Ryan went with the break up was that he saw how distant and cold Jeremy had gotten. Ryan had assumed that, for whatever reason, Jeremy had changed his mind. He hated it, he was devastated, but he didn't know how to fix it.

Ryan decides he doesn’t want to go back to the penthouse tonight. He pulls up to the nearest crew safehouse, and suddenly things click.

Jeremy had always struggled with bad self-image and depression. He had gone to Ryan for comfort, which he was always more than willing to give. Jeremy was doing better. At least he told Ryan he was.

Jack had mentioned a while ago that when Jeremy first joined the crew, she had found him after a suicide attempt and barely left his side until he recovered. The only reason for it Jack had told Ryan about was ‘emotional trauma from a past relationship, that he didn’t really want to talk about.’

Ryan did that to him.

Ryan made the love of his life want to die.

The pieces left of his heart fall into more shards than there are grains of sand in this world.

He collapses onto the couch inside, too exhausted to even get to the bed. He knows he’s not going to be able to sleep, though.

To: Geoff

Dropped Jeremy off at his place, he was pretty drunk though so check on him please

To: Geoff

I’m staying at kung fu safehouse for the night

#my fic #holy fuck #i did that !!!#thats a whole ass 1874 words babeyyy!!!!!#fahc #fahc ryan #fahc jeremy #fahc au #angst #battle buddies #fake ah ryan #fake ah jeremy #fake ah crew #fake ah au #minor suicide mention #suicide mention tw #ragehappy

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icekychan04 · 4 years

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Man, everything is just harder, yet easier at the same time nowadays, huh?

Since the quarantine started where I am, things are... Confusing, to say the least. I didn't think I could be any more stressed, but I was apparently wrong.

Big shocker.

I thought I wasn't able to have any more weight on my shoulders of all my school work, just piling up more and more. (Sophomore year of highschool: not really a nice experience if you're in my position.) Again, I was wrong. If anything, it's probably a lot worse.

Big surprise.

Hell, even heating up something for breakfast is harder for me to handle in the morning. I somehow failed the simplest task.

What can I say? I guess my insomnia, ADHD, and me not being a morning person all just sorta teamed up on me. (Small, brief explanation: the schools in my school district have been doing this thing where they send out buses to give out food to anyone that needs it. That's where I got the doughnut.)

All throughout the weekdays, I'm sat at my dining room table, sitting opposite of my dad who has his own setup for his job. That's both an okay thing and a bad thing. I love my dad, I really do, but having to be across the table from him to do my school work? Yeah, he's a total dork and as much as I enjoy him being a goofball, his constant meetings and his randomness is distracting. Not as distracting as my mom, younger brother, and little sister, though.

Mom has a short temper and not necessarily enough patience to work with my sister to make her get her school work done. Every now and then, I can hear Mom yelling at my sister for messing around instead of working or acting like she doesn't know how to answer a problem. Not to mention that if the two kids get all of their work done, my brother is either in his room watching anime (something he picked up from yours truly) or out in the living room where my sister hangs out. Usually, if that's the case, they typically argue, roughhouse, or something else that includes the two being loud and obnoxious.

Just another reason I don't get all my assignments done and turned in on time.

I've been trying to get a break over weekends, playing video games, just lazing around the house, and chatting and role-playing via text with my girlfriend. It helps, a lot, but not well enough.

I still have chores and things I have to do all the time. Dishwasher, litter box, the ever growing disaster mine and my sister's bedroom is, the pile of clothes on the floor in our room that I need to get put away, but either forget or am too busy, and last, but DEFINITELY not least, the piles and piles of work I have to get done. Even so, I have at least ONE thing I THINK I can look forward to:

My birthday is coming up.

The nice thing is that the whole "social distancing" thing was lightened up enough to (from what my parents have told me) allow gatherings of up to 15 people..... I think...

But, as nice as that is, my birthday is in the middle of the week, last I checked.

On the 9th of June, I can look forward to turning 16 and possibly getting to see multiple friends at once, but I also have classes that particular day. Fun..

Well, I mean, on the bright side, my mom likely wouldn't want my 16th birthday to end up not being well spent since she hadn't had that when she had her's.

All in all, this quarantine has been both a good and bad thing in my case. Not to mention my distancing from my girlfriend helped not just myself, but both of us both to discover a lot more about our sexualities.

I knew I was demisexual and pansexual, but it turns out that I'm also polyamorous, which is honestly hard to explain how I did, but that's a story for another day... For the longest time, my girlfriend always thought she was panromantic and apothysexual, but because of the distancing between us, she found out that she was a (hardcore) lesbian.

Who would've thought that all it took to find out that much more about ourselves was a quarantine and not being able to see each other very much?

#covid19 #coronavirus #quarantine #family #social distancing #distractions #lgbtq community #lgbtq #long reads #lifestyle

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hoopdiddies · 5 years

Text

I'm Not Over You // Ben Hardy x Reader (Part 7)

A/N: This is probably the longest I've written in this series. Again guys, thank you for the support, your comments and likes mean so much! My tag list is always open so feel free to ask. And on a slightly heavy note: the next chapter could be really angsty. Just a heads up right there uwu

Summary: You had always loved Ben ever since you two met in university and became the best of friends. That feeling went out like a candle flame when the two of you parted ways until he re-entered your life...but this time with someone who has already occupied his heart.

Warnings: Angst, slight drinking, slight swearing, (yeah the fluff is still present)

W/C: 5k-ish

Tags: @haendel-me-with-care

@mrsdoradominguez-barnes

@mickmoon

@lakef

@mrsmazzello

@valeriecarolinaw

@queen-turtle-boiii

Edited// I forgot to link the previous parts

Parts: 6 5 4 3 2 1

(Got the pic from Pinterest hhh-)

Storing the luggage bag you've purchased for a fair price in the spare room, you come across a small box of sundries tucked in one corner with cobwebs clinging to the sides. Your eyes light up with curiosity spiking within you, you pick it up and dust the webs off, blowing the particles away from the top. You squat on the floor and open the flaps, discovering small yet familiar items that had been lost in time– one of them being a sepia-toned polaroid of you and Ben posing dramatically with hilarious doodles drawn on your faces. You forgot about this, feeling a little guilty that you had hidden it away in a drafty box without remembering doing anything of the sort. You flip the picture over and spot a date and an unfinished sentence written in faded ink on the bottom left part. This was taken on Homecoming night.

'I'm not going-' it says, clearly discontinued next to the date. Silly to think that the picture somehow represents a puzzle piece torn away from its board.

You were bound to graduate the week after and barely a day after, not see each other for several years due to your career paths and post-college choices.

You pull on the hem of your shirt, clearing the picture of dust and any more impurities, finally fitting it into your back pocket to finally treasure it the way it was always meant to be treasured.

The door clicks as you bring it close, your eyes gluing themselves at the hardwood floor seconds to having self-pity billow over you at how quickly your tears surface in the corner of your eyes from the memory of Ben spinning Rosy around - the exact way he did with you -and kissing her like she's a pouch full of life.

You clamp down on your bottom lip, trying your hardest not to stain your cheeks with your pooling tears. "Jeez, you just-" you pace back and forth in frustration, balling your fists as you gesticulate lazily, "you just don't get it, Y/N! Ugh, you're so- fuck, just get over it..." Knowing your harsh soliloquy would be getting you nowhere, you snarl strongly at yourself and roughly wipe your tears away with the back of your hand.

"He loves Rosy. F-freaking deal with it!" The reminder takes a hiss from your quivering lips for it to sink in; you have your own place in his life– a place behind the line you'd drawn in the years prior. The friend zone couldn't be any more hollow and cold than it already is.

And a polaroid pic is the only remnant left of how inseparable you and Ben were in the early days.

At the same time you're feeling your heart tear itself apart, Ben pulls out a picture - similar to what you've found - from the inner pocket of his old varsity jacket in the middle of rummaging through his wardrobe. He leaves his room in his pajamas and tosses himself on the couch next to a sleeping Frankie, softly apologizing to the little beagle for disturbing her cat-like nap. As he cuddles Frankie close, he scrutinizes the picture and it's also from Homecoming, but in it both of you are beaming widely with your arms slung around one another– the doodles ever-so-present on your faces. Behind it, the date and the continuation of the trailed-off sentence written at the back of your share of the memory.

'-anywhere at all.'- it ends in Ben's part of the duality. He grins fondly at the long lost picture, feeling twice as guilty for not keeping it safe and...close to his heart, just as he had promised you that night.

- - - - - - - -

In the convenience of Lucy needing some company to shop with for awards season just as she had returned from her get-away with Rami, she drags you along happily, having to pass through you insisting that you stay at home and study but purposefully ending up under her mercy anyway. You couldn't say no to her, she's basically your sparkly, glam counterpart and you're in need of her life-altering sparkles as of now. Especially since you're going to be tagging along with them, mainly as Joe's date cause you know, you're his 'girlfriend' and all.

You're at the mall, in a stylish boutique full of lines of voguish clothing and shoes that could span miles if not compressed together. For once in the hours you've spent scampering around the mall with Lucy to hoard dresses, skin products and make up, you admit that this is the most aesthetically pleasing space in the entire building.

You traipse along a section with black dresses fashioned into different forms, silently praying that what you have with you will amount to at least one of the varying prices.

Lucy's on the opposite side, ogling at the most colorful section in the boutique for a piece to wear. She peers over at you to make sure you've chosen your 'fighter'. A few swishes of the dresses lined up and you do, holding it up high to evaluate the appropriateness.

It's a sleeveless, halter neck satin that's just a few inches above the knee. Utterly backless but it ends right up the small of your back. The fabric is stretchy enough to move around and breathe in as it simultaneously hugs your shape. You love it but gulp as you prepare yourself for the price. Flipping the tag over, you suddenly wish you could let out the biggest, girlish squeal the human race has ever heard with how surprisingly affordable it is.

"Finally picked out yours?" Lucy pokes her head up playfully and you nod, quite speechless but giddy. She makes a grabby hand at your dress to examine it for herself.

Well she's the fashion guru so why not? You hand her the dress and as she trails her eyes from top to bottom, her mouth falls at the simple yet elegant details. "This is perfect! I highly doubt that it's not going to catch every exposed eye present at the event."

Your flush profusely at her comment. "Thanks but I'll be bringing a coat with me."

That triggered her, but of course you're only teasing. "You better effing not." She warns you and you chuckle, taking the dress from her and evenly brushing the skirt.

"I won't, you can sleep soundly tonight."

You assure her of the possibility. As you exit the boutique with a few bags you're not used to holding, Lucy takes out her phone and gasps, her face contorting with a little disbelief. "Uh oh, this might ruin your mood." She hands you the phone and you gape at her confusingly before taking a quick look.

Ben's posted some updates on his wedding preparations, shockingly tagging you, Joe, Gwil and Lucy in one photo. He's pretty busy alright; unable to text or call you for days but miraculously tagging you out of nowhere.

You come to disregard it until you notice one minute but important detail hidden in plain sight in all of his posts– there isn't a single one with him and Rosy together alone. None of such as well on his new ones.

The only post he's had with a close girl is the one with you, which is at the very bottom of his Instagram feed. You won't admit it but it warms your heart a little. Actually, a whole lot despite wondering why there's none of him and his fiancee. You hand Lucy her phone back and tilt your head to one side, suddenly finding the eagerness to go on shopping. "Let's go."

The following week comes as a radial blur contrasted to the slightly moderate one you just woke up from; your manager phoning you up to take the earliest shift you've had in years at the expense of your allotted time to rest, the heavy workload and rush hours in the upcoming hours followed by the slowest progress of filing your travel documents and visa needed for your departure on the 26th. You've got tons of missed calls from your parents and Joe, who's requested for you to pack up early since you'll be leaving for LA with Lucy on the day of the awards but earlier.

Also noting that you still need to double check the costs for flying to LA and back, ruling out the one exclusive for your flight on the 26th.

For mere days you feel as if you could lose your sanity as your life spirals into madness with everything you're required to do– whether or not you're obliged to do it.

But they are effective distractions for that problem you are still very much preoccupied with. That's a matter noteworthy of later discussion. Amidst all the chaos happening, part of you wishes for Ben to reply to your messages or even talk to you in the slightest. You never bothered to call this week since he's tied up but the least he could do is let you know how he's doing, if he's thinking of you once in a thousand passing seconds.

You give up for a day waiting on him and drown yourself in work.

- - - - - - -

Securing your phone between your tilted head and your shoulder as you indulge in your talk with Joe through the line, you crouch and zip your luggage bag close. Your eyes fixating themselves on two, separate luggage bags for two, separate travels.

"Was that all of it?" Joe's disembodied voice asks. You spring up and take your phone between your fingers. "Pretty much. I better have a kick out of something by the time we touchdown tomorrow– it's my first visit to the US." You inform him, leaping into your bed and landing comfortably.

He chortles softly and ensures you. "I know and you can be sure to expect a good par- ow! Bad kitty!" His smooth transition to a yelp amuses you for split second.

"Are you alright? "

"No. I'm finally feline food to my kid." He refers to his pet cat that has taken a small nibble on his finger, in which Joe returns with a light ruffle to its fur. You can't help but giggle heartily at him.

"Anyway, I'm picking you and Lucy up from LAX tomorrow." He gives you that heads up and you bring your hand up to your forehead. "Where will we be staying?"

"I've booked a hotel earlier so you've got nothing to worry about the moment you land." A faint crunch can be heard from your end and you mind to ask Joe about it. "Are you- are you eating?"

To answer your question, he bites down on his food sloppily and guarantees you of what you heard. You smack your lips together as your eyes narrow in bewilderment.

"Does that answer your question?"

"Sometimes you make it easier for me to hit you with a pillow."

"Is that how you treat your boyfriend?" He taunts at you and cackles, his distorted voice bouncing off of the walls of your room. You sigh, defeated by the fact that this charade is still going on. It's silly and immature yet you and Joe somehow managed to stick to the act.

"Speaking of boyfriend though– would he be furious if I told him that I couldn't be there on his wedding day?" Since you're rested and got nothing else to distract you, you pop the question to Joe.

"Ben?"

You hum softly.

"There are two scenarios that we need to consider," on his end, Joe taps his finger on his lips as he thinks of said scenarios, "Best case scenario- he would get discouraged and slightly unmotivated, and obviously sad, but he'd still support you cause that's your dream."

You sit up and twirl the ends of your hair around your finger, swallowing. "And worst case scenario?"

Joe falls silent before exhaling harshly. "You'd crush his soul, heart, everything ranging from physical to spiritual and it would take a toll– and I mean a substantial toll on your friendship."

"Joe, don't make it sound like a prospect! "

"That is, " he adds strongly, "if he finds out that you had meant for him to be oblivious to it." And he's right. But you had a reason. You still do. Even if you do end up telling him and he supports you, you need a great deal of space to move on.

As long as he's committed to Rosy and you're in the sidelines still in love with him, it's just something toxic. You couldn't love anybody they way you do Ben and you feel like you'll never love someone like him ever again. Albeit how clueless he is sometimes and clumsy, you both had survived every storm and wave. So sticking around to witness him give his hand and heart to someone else is torture for you.

"I'm gonna be direct and say-" just as you begin talking, your phone shrills to another caller, cutting you off from Joe.

One look at the screen and your heart begins racing. Speak of the devil. You reserve an explanation for cutting off and answer Ben, clearing your throat. "You're late."

Ben's gruff chuckle welcomes you back. "I know, I'm so sorry. Busiest week I've had and the lady at Starbucks signed my cup like a snail."

"What are you doing tonight that requires coffee?"

"Call me dramatic- or do so, given that I'm an actor- but I just want to stargaze right now." You hear a light rustle coming from his end, like he's seated out on his lawn.

Silently giving him the 'oh really' look, you spread one side of the curtain to let some moon light in. "Ben, you're leaving early tomorrow."

He hums, seemingly enjoying himself. "But that's not an excuse to not enjoy the night." This boy can not get any cornier. You cast your gaze upon the moon, sighing profoundly. "How did the wedding planning go? Good?"

"Hm, yeah. Church wedding, big reception. Whole lot of booze binging planned out. And a killer bachelor party the day after the awards. " He jokes through the line and you tell him off in a playful chide. "Benjamin Jones, you better-"

"I won't. I won't." You sense his gentle smile from your end, checking the time and reluctantly coming to the decision to hit the hay since you'll be leaving early as well. As much as you want to recreate those late night conversations you once had with him, you can't.

"Hey?" You coo somehow.

"Yeah?"

"I gotta sleep. I have to meet Lucy at the airport at 5."

He gives out a throaty grunt as if he's pulling himself up. "Tragic. I'll see you in LA then, love."

Your lips curl up into the gentlest smile with the moonlight blessing it from the window. "You too. Tell yourself and the rest- especially Brian and Roger- that I'm gonna be rooting for you guys to get up on that stage."

"I will. Thanks for the motivation, Y/N. All the words coming from you just mean so much to me. To all of us." And in his voice, you can hear his utmost sincerity and fondness just highlighting his tone.

"Anytime. Now let me sleep, you bloke. "

"Haha, alright. Love you tons, love."

Shifting your eyes to the sky once more, you reply, allowing the words you're about to say to mean more.

"I love you too, Ben. Good night."

- - - - - - -

24th

You had promised Lucy you'd arrive 10 minutes earlier than her and you really didn't hold on to that promise. As soon as you arrive at the airport nearly bathing in sweat and deaf from the multiple rings Lucy has given you, you both take off to the waiting area with your heavy luggage where you spend an hour and a half waiting for your flight to board. Joe has sent two texts telling you that he's still in the middle of having coffee and it's a questionable action since he's 8 hours behind you and is expected to be asleep by now.

You reply with a simple, "See you there" before heeding to the call of your flight number from the speakers.

All the rushing and you haven't had a bite of breakfast yet. An eleven hour flight doesn't sound so bad, as long as you make sure you don't reel everytime you get up to use the bathroom and acquire jet lag the moment you land from a direct flight without any pit stops. The flight is long as you are awake but by the time you fall asleep in between hours, it shortens the duration. The pilot announcing your arrival wakes you and Lucy from the latest nap you've had on the plane. After gathering your luggage and answering a couple of phone calls on you way down the plane, the arrival area is where you spy Joe behind the red tapes, a scarf around his neck and an eager look plastered on his pale skin, just waiting for you and Lucy to step in. His eyes crinkle as he sees you both treading towards him with a handful of luggage. He greets you both with a tight hug and ushers you to his car, assisting with the transport of your things.

He's booked you in the hotel he's staying in to, of course, avoid some minor inconveniences especially since the awards start at 7 pm and you drastically need Lucy to help you prepare. Upon reaching the hotel, he leads the both of you up the second floor and into the hall for your rooms.

Apparently you and Lucy will be sharing which is the great and Joe will be staying in the room right across yours.

After giving yourselves a brief tour of the room, you settle in and unpack your essentials.

"Y/N, bring out your fighter!" Lucy declares with a giggle, pulling the dress she's chosen from her suitcase. It's a purple, off-the-shoulder, crepe satin and black velvet gown that cascades gracefully against the stable air.

Your eyes widen in awe at how it looks against the light. "No need for a match, Luce. You win," you raise your hands up in surrender, "that's- that's catching more eyes. From Rami of course."

"Oh shut it. You'll look smooth in black." She clicks her tongue and smoothens it at the edge of the bed. You whip out yours and hold it up high, wavering a little at how you'll look like in it tonight. How fortunate you were to find 3-inch, black pumps closeted when you were 'panic packing' the night before. You take it out from your suitcase and set it aside before striding towards the blinds, pulling it up and beholding the breathtaking view of Hollywood before you.

Your first visit to the US and you're already headed to the Oscars. This isn't the real life. This is just fantasy.

- - - - - - - -

"We're having a dinner party afterwards, I don't see any reason for two sandwiches before the ceremony." Staring blankly at how Joe's handling waiting for you and Lucy to emerge from your room, Rami purses his lips quizzically– he's come by to pick up his girl as well. The two men look dashingly handsome in their black tuxes and slick hairstyles– their individual charm strong as they highly anticipate for your appearances.

Joe swallows the chunk in his mouth before speaking. "I'm stressed."

"About what?"

He bites down on his last sandwich, dusting his hands off crumbs as he reasons out. "It's the Oscars. Biggest ceremony of the year."

With a shake of his head, Rami opens his mouth to protest but pauses as the creak of the door behind them butts in their conversation. Lucy - exquisite in her cascading satin gown and look dotted in light to moderate make up - emerges with her purse in hand and eyes heady on Rami.

Joe wishes he could loosen some hinges in Rami's jaw since the latter has got his mouth agape at her girlfriend's evening look. To him, she is his ultimate award and he wouldn't have it in any other way.

"Hey, babe." Lucy smiles delicately and kisses Rami's cheek, to which he responds with a breathless, "Luce, you look..." His starstruck silence finishing his compliment for her. Joe hums, agreeing with crossed arms. "I wish I was as pretty as you, Boynton."

"You boys look handsome, too." Lucy giggles softly and Joe begins to wonder. "Where's Y/N?"

"She'll be out in three...two..." As Lucy deliberately pauses her countdown, you come out of the room, head down as you feel a bit hesitant to continue but you regain your confidence and look up timidly– your appearance putting Joe in the same position Rami was just in with Lucy. The dress really agrees to your form, contouring every curve of your body in a semi-sensual way, guaranteeing that you'll be snagging some looks tonight. Your (H/C) hair frames your face intricately with your light make-up emphasizing the color of your eyes and lips. The light brush of air against the skin of your exposed back makes you clutch your purse tighter, deeming it uncomfortable.

Lucy smiles proudly at her work and that is you. "Well, how does she look Joe?"

Joe lets out a hitched exhale, hazel eyes wide as a sinkhole and a slacked jaw struggling to budge. "Like my girlfriend."

"You wish." You can't help but retort playfully and he brings his finger up to his lips, hushing you. Rami compliments you as well and you thank him as the four of you make your way to the elevator– your arm on Joe's and Lucy's on Rami's.

You've taken a limo for the sake of convenience, since Joe and Rami wanted to propose a pre-toast - with the champagne present in the vehicle - to their successes and hard work in the past year. You have faith they'd bring home an Oscar; considering how spectacular their work was portraying the members of Queen. You're also thrilled that you're about to meet Brian and Roger.

The limo parks just across Dolby Theatre and the four of you climb out, making your way arms-in-arms into the place crowded with paparazzi and attendees. You see yourself as a small fish swimming in a sea full of majestic dolphins. This is the big leagues right here and you're not even one bit of a celebrity– at least you feel like you aren't one. After a couple of shoulder brushes with either familiar and unfamiliar faces and escaping the blinding flashes of the cameras, the four of you reunite with Gwilym who has Roger and Brian present by his side. You are introduced to the two Queen members by Joe and you couldn't be any more happier to meet them in person. A couple of moments of interacting with the rest of the crew and cast, Ben joins the 'party' looking sharp and admittedly drop-dead gorgeous in his white tuxedo blazer and slicked back hair with Rosy by his side.

Before he could even reply to the greetings of his friends, he lays his eyes on you and for a while– his pupils dilate and his expression flits faster than he can command it to. He can't believe what or who he is seeing before him amidst all the glam. Letting go of Rosy's hand for a minute, he steps close to you, indescribably captivated. "Y/N...h-hey."

You keep your composure, musing back. "Hey. You look left out, outfit-wise, and a like a million bucks."

It takes him nearly five seconds to reply with the way hes has his eyes transfixed on you. It's like he's seeing you for the first time. Your evening look setting him back to Homecoming night and something inside him just tweaks. You avoid his mindless gaze and break the silence, trying your hardest not to flush. "Ben, please talk. It's just really-"

"You look...beautiful." He breathes out like he had just gotten up from under water.

#queen #borhap #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #borhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap imagine #joe mazzello #ben hardy fanfic #imagine #fanfic

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bispec-remade · 5 years

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hi! sorry to bother you out of the blue, but i saw yr post on bisexual identity & i was wondering if you had any advice for someone questioning? i've id'd as a nb lesbian for a few years, but i recently came to the realization that that's never really felt Right or Comfortable & i've consistently felt disconnected from it. i think i might be a bi trans guy, but trying to unravel my feelings about men when i've spent years avoiding the hell out of them is..Hard, to say the least, especially (1/2)

when most questioning resources are specifically directed at people who are cis and bi, or just talk about transness as hearing trans guys exist and knowing you were one immediately/consciously wanted to be a boy as a kid all the time or w/e. you don’t have to answer this if it’s a lot/too personal!! sorry!!!! (2/2)

i can’t really speak for everyone on the process of questioning, but i can certainly speak for myself. i think it might help you to hear a little bit about how i’ve identified over the years, and what i largely struggled with in figuring out my identity. while it isn’t exactly concrete advice, you might find a little piece of your own truth in what i have to say about my own questioning process. i’ve done a lot of introspection on my identity as well as the journey my gender and sexuality has taken over the years, so i have a lot of thoughts regarding the entire process.

just as a warning: this is about 3,000 words of text, and most of the more general advice will be at the end of this. i also. barely proofread this so apologies if some of what i say lacks clarity.

over the past four or five years that i’ve identified as someone who’s part of the lgbt+ community, i have identified as all sorts of things under the umbrella. lesbian, gay, bisexual, trans, nonbinary, so on and so forth. right now, i identify as a bisexual trans guy, and it’s the most comfortable i have ever been with an identity. but it’s taken me a lot of exploration for me to get to this point. largely due to a struggle with an aversion to manhood, a struggle with community, a struggle between gender and sexuality, and a struggle with other’s perceptions.

see, the last time i identified as bisexual (aside from right now of course) was actually the first time i identified as anything within the community. but it always felt fake somehow, like i was maybe faking my attraction to girls (i thought myself to be a cisgender girls) in order to feel special somehow. it was brief, and it was always just a fleeting thought, a “what if”. i never really solidly identified as bisexual at the time, and i lacked the knowledge of what attraction felt like to know if i was attracted to girls.

and then, that possibility that i might be bisexual all got tossed out the window when i realized that i wasn’t cis in 2014. after that, i didn’t identify as bisexual for a very, very long time, but i never went back to identifying as cis either. it was my first genuine exploration in the lgbt+ community, where i concretely identified within the community. i identified as nonbinary for one month, before i realized that i was actually more comfortable identifying as a trans guy. a gay trans guy to be specific. i can’t really explain why identifying as a trans guy felt right, it just did. it wasn’t really an “aha”, more like an “i like identifying this way, it feels comfortable”. i’m also not sure why i wrote off the thought that i might be attracted to women. maybe because i had a much more concrete and sure identity in my transness, and i no longer felt the need to evaluate if i was attracted to women or not.

i think i identified as a gay trans guy for the longest. around two years. really, the only thing that changed in that time period was that my gender started to feel less and less binary with time, and so i saw myself as a gay nonbinary guy. but then, one day, i started considering a different possibility. what if i was a nonbinary lesbian? which sounds strange of course, because “lesbian” is multiple leaps from “gay guy”. not only does it mean aligning with a different gender, but it means being attracted to women (which gay men are not), and not being attracted to men (which gay men are). and honestly, i’m not sure quite how it happened. i think it was just a convenient alignment of changes in how i viewed myself. i was starting to notice that i was maybe attracted to girls beyond a mere “what if”, and certain events taking place at this time made me kind of disillusioned by manhood (putting both my attraction to men and my identity as a man into question).

and so began what i call my flip flop period, where i switched between nonbinary lesbian and gay trans guy about 6 times. and yes, that is a LOT of times to be making that kind of flip in identity. to summarize, it was…gay trans guy (two years, which i already talked about) to they/them nb lesbian (for a month, and they/them pronouns because while i had heard about lesbians using he/him pronouns at the time but i was too scared to identify as such) to gay trans guy (because i missed using he/him pronouns and because it was scary and unfamiliar identifying as a lesbian) to he/him nb lesbian (where i was comfortable identify as a lesbian and using he/him pronouns) to gay trans guy (partially in response to backlash for identifying as a he/him lesbian) to he/him nb lesbian (for over 6 months) to a very ambiguous questioning period where i didn’t really identify as anything (which i’ll talk about later). all in all, about two years.

yeah. it’s a lot, i know. and at this point, you might start wondering, “if you were constantly switching between believing you were attracted to men and believing you were attracted to women, then why the hell did you never consider bisexuality?” and…now we get to the thought process that had secretly been running underneath my questioning process the entire time. my desire to feel accepted by the community. you can see it in how i viewed my gender as well as how i viewed my sexuality.

i think at some point, my identity sort of became this tug of war between what felt right for me, and what i felt like the lgbt+ community and wider society would accept (which was fueled by my own internal biases). and in questioning, i think people really need to be honest with themselves about what their particular hangups with identifying as something are. it requires serious introspection. and for me, it required introspection on why i was hesitant to identify as a lesbian, a trans guy, and bisexual. because for me, each identity had its merit and it wasn’t so simple to figure out which was most comfortable for me. a lot of people tell you “identify as what feels the most comfortable to you!” but sometimes, it isn’t so simple to find what’s most comfortable for you. sometimes you have to actively work towards letting yourself feel comfortable in an identity, especially with all sorts of internalized bigotry that you might be struggling with.

i struggled between these three identities so much (enough that i didn’t even consider the third an option for three entire years) because i was treating it like a pros and cons kind of thing. the benefits of identifying as this, and the disadvantages. which can be a way to approach questioning of course. but it isn’t the best way to do so if you’re also factoring other people’s perceptions into the equation. and when you compare identities like that, it also becomes a sort of issue of “i’ll settle for this one because it’s the most comfortable, even if it doesn’t really work perfectly”.

so, what were my hang-ups with each identity? well, with identifying as a lesbian, the issue was that while i did feel a sense of community stronger than i felt with any other community, a sense of belonging, it meant identifying with womanhood to a greater degree than i really wanted to. and then there was the issue of me most comfortably identifying as a lesbian using he/him pronouns, which is an extremely controversial topic as you might know (i still remain wholly in support of lesbians using he/him pronouns, even if the identity didn’t personally work for me). hell, i even got anonymous hate because of identifying as such. and then there was the fact that i couldn’t imagine a reality where i could actually be out as a nonbinary lesbian using he/him pronouns. transitioning or not transitioning would mean a certain inherent level of dishonesty about my identity.

with identifying as a trans guy, it was…well, once i started identifying as a lesbian at a time that i was already sort of wary of manhood, but i started building an even more and more negative mindset towards manhood (both identifying as a man and being attracted to men). the thought of identifying as a man made me feel guilty. it was even more difficult for me because at one point, i was so averse to men that i was fairly sure that i was completely unattracted to men, though still open to the possibility of being a man. and at some point, i accepted that i was absolutely attracted to women, regardless of my gender. and the thought that i might be a straight man made me feel. disgusted, honestly. i tried identifying as a possibly straight trans guy for maybe two days, but. that flopped very quickly because i could barely think about being attracted to a woman for two seconds because i felt guilty for being attracted to woman as a man. this isn’t to say that straight trans guys aren’t valid, but i was dealing with my own shit at the time, and that was just how i saw things. it’s. complicated, and personal, so it’s hard to really explain in words, but the combination of my aversion to men and my aversion towards the thought of men’s attraction to women made things tough. and while i completely understand why people would be averse to manhood (and i still am myself, to some degree) it was extremely toxic to my own questioning process.

which brings me to the third one, which my mind was subconsciously putting out of my mind as a choice. bisexuality. i…it’s hard to really explain my feelings towards bisexuality. that post you mentioned, about bisexual identity? i largely wrote that based on my own previous perceptions of bisexuality. i feel like the reason it resonates with so many people is because i was speaking for my own internalized biphobia. and i’m not proud of it, but it was definitely a thing. for some, bisexuality comes this inherent feeling of not belonging, of loneliness. as if you’re identity is not enough, or that it’s too much.

to keep it short before i start waxing poetic: i think i couldn’t handle the thought of being attracted to multiple genders at once. at having a “straight” and “gay” part of my identity. and this perception is the way a lot of people view bisexuality, even if they openly say that you shouldn’t see bisexuality as “straight” + “gay”. bisexuality is often seen as “part you should be proud of” + “part you shouldn’t be proud of” by wider society and the lgbt+ community, and i. couldn’t accept that. so i never thought of my attraction to men (from when i identified as gay) and (my attraction to women from when i identified as lesbian) as possible pieces of a bisexual identity. it was one or the other, and my mind was subconsciously nudging myself towards an identity where i felt entirely within the lgbt+ community. not to say bisexual people aren’t entirely within the lgbt+ community, but the internalized biphobia i was struggling with felt that that was how i would be viewed if i identified as bisexual. so i didn’t.

so, how did i settle on my current identity as a bisexual trans guy? well, first of all, i was honest to myself. like i mentioned, i pulled all of my thought processes as for why i did and did not want to identify as certain things into the limelight. including the ones about bisexuality. then, i saw just how much my identity relied on the perception of others, and how much distress that was causing me. so i decided to think about things not in terms of how others would view my identity, but in terms of what felt genuinely comfortable. i forgot about how i would be viewed if i was a nonbinary lesbian using he/him pronouns, i forgot about my aversion to men and what it means to be a man in this society, and i forgot about how bisexual identity is unfortunately often viewed in fragments.

but i didn’t come to a conclusion immediately. actually, for a solid month or two, i let myself drift. i chose to not identify as anything, to see where my normal interactions with the world would point me. starting with a blank slate so to say, and trying to view my feelings outside of the context of society. merely looking at someone and saying “hm, she is attractive” instead of “hm, she is attractive but how would i feel about my attraction to her if i was a man”. or, “hm, i do still like he/him pronouns as i always have” instead of “hm, i do still like he/him pronouns as i always have but how would i be viewed if i identified a lesbian”. or “hm, that man is attractive” instead of “hm, that man is attractive but can you trust him when you’ve been mistreated by men so many times in the past?” it’s hard to do, but it gives you the most honest and comfortable understanding of your identity. finding the box that fits you first, instead of trying to find the box that fits you and that fits society.

i first tried to understand my sexuality, because it felt a little more objective to me. viewing things in the way i was, with this clean slate, it was an either “you are or you aren’t attracted to them” sort of thing. plus, my gender is sort of innately tied to my sexuality (thanks to that nonbinary element of my gender), so i had to get sexuality pinned before i could pin down by gender. and what i found was that. well, i’m bisexual. i am definitely confident in my attraction to all genders, though i still view my attraction to different genders in different ways.

as for my gender, it took a little bit of time once i had the bisexual part of my identity down. i knew i probably wasn’t a bisexual woman, as i couldn’t really see an element of womanhood to my gender with the knowledge that i was attracted to men (update as of 05.12.19: i no longer view things this way, and i do have an element of womanhood to my gender). so it was more of a problem of how nonbinary i was. because my nonbinary identity is probably the thing i’ve been most confident in this entire time. i do not entirely identify as a certain gender, and i haven’t for a long time. that part has stayed the same. but how comfortable was i identifying with manhood, if at all? and…i sort of eased into it. first privately identifying as bi and nonbinary. and then bi and nonbinary with maybe a slight inclination for manhood. and soon, my identity got more and more male with time. so now i pretty confidently identify as a bisexual trans guy, with the nonbinary element of my gender being more personal than an explicitly stated part of my identity.

and that was my entire journey with exploring gender and sexuality! i guess some things i’d like to leave this off with that actually serve as proper advice are…

don’t be afraid to try things out. quite frankly, even though none of my previous identities (bi cis girl, gay trans guy, nonbinary lesbian) ended up being right for me, they were still extremely important to my personal journey, and i openly embrace those times i identified as such. for example, identifying as a nonbinary lesbian was necessary for me to even accept that i could be attracted to woman, but i do NOT see that identity as a stepping stone towards my current identity. in that time, i genuinely identified as nonbinary lesbian. that was my reality. it just so happens that my reality from back then helped fuel my reality today. and maybe some day i’ll find a more comfortable identity than that of a bisexual trans guy. i’m open to the possibility, but right now, i’m living my most comfortable reality. (update as of 05.12.19: i actually did find a more comfortable identity! i find myself identifying with both bisexual manhood and bisexual womanhood right now, so i consider myself bigender. there is still the element of me that remains a bisexual man of course. though i have since reconsidered my identity, what i have said here still stands.)

try not to worry about what others think so much. identify as what’s comfortable for you. no matter what you identify as, no matter what ends up being comfortable for you, there’s the sad reality will always someone who takes issue with it, even if you end up not identifying as lgbt+ in the end. but the happy reality? there will always be a community of people willing to accept your identity, and you WILL find them even if you don’t have that community right now. in a really weird way, i find it a little comforting that there’ll be haters and lovers out there no matter what i identify as. it means i’m free to identify the way that’s comfortable for me. because hell, those come with EVERY identity. so please don’t feel tethered down by the expectations of the community that currently surrounds you. do what feels right for you, and then find the people who will accept you for it afterwards.

don’t be afraid to go without a label. i personally find comfort in labels, which is why i only temporarily went without a label to help myself through the questioning process. but it is still completely an option to simply exist, and it can be really freeing to do so. sure, there is no community called the no label community, and even communities centered on ambiguity of gender/sexual orientation gather around a specific label, but you don’t really need an X community or a Y community to be happy. communities gathering under labels can be great ways to easily meet people with similar experiences, but you can just as easily find people with similar experiences outside of communities. hell, some of the people i relate to the most when it comes to gender and sexuality don’t even identify as bisexual people or trans men. so if you’re scared of missing out on community if you choose to abandon labels altogether, then i assure you that it is completely possible to find community anywhere and with any identity (or lack thereof).

thank you very much for the question, and i am extremely touched that you saw me as someone to ask about this sort of thing. i myself know quite well just how frustrating the internal struggle you’re going through is, and i really do wish there were more resources for this kind of thing. it’s such a deeply personal process and yet i’ve seen so many people struggle with the exact same things i struggled with. this was probably a lot to absorb, but i hope shedding light on my own experiences perhaps offered you a bit of insight on yourself, if not concrete advice on how to approach questioning. i wish you luck in figuring things out!

#mine #okay to rb #asks #anonymous #questioning #Anonymous

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