Hiiii!!! Can I get a Scandal in the Spotlight head canon where the boys (as a group of individually) find out MC is bisexual
Man, I can never get these guys down!
To be honest, he had a feeling you were bisexual for a while.
I mean, let’s face it, this guy knows the look of someone appreciating a girl’s body, and he’s seen you make it a few times.
He wasn’t sure if it was you liking the way they looked or liking the way they looked.
He would always distract you, mainly by kissing you until you couldn’t think straight.
In the end, it bothered him to the point where he just asked you, and you were honest with your response.
He isn’t particularly surprised, and completely understands, after all women are beautiful.
The topic came up when he asked about meeting your parents.
You totally clammed up.
He didn’t understand what the problem was so told you to spit it out. You did just that.
Your parents had kicked you out when you admitted you were bisexual and introduced your girlfriend to them, you were twenty at the time. They told you that you were a disgrace to the family and that if you wanted to be with a woman, then they never wanted to see you again. You moved in with your girlfriend the following week and had never spoken to them since.
He couldn’t believe they had just disowned you over something so petty. They didn’t deserve to call themselves your parents, not that he would say that though. When he sees you on the verge of tears, he sighs and hugs you.
“Well, I have no need to meet people like that. We don’t need them in our lives if that’s how they’re going to treat you.”
It was completely unexpected for Kota.
While out on a date, the two of you bumped into your ex.
Poor Kota was so confused to start.
Who was this person, and could they get off of you? Then they introduce themselves and he was frozen for a while.
Wait a second, he had enough trouble with guys, how would his jealousy cope with girls too?!
Takes a little while for him to come to terms with it, but he does and is even more protective than before.
Nagi found out when he was nosing around your room and starting looking through one of your high school photo albums.
One girl showed up a lot, he was curious as to who she was.
He asked and you admitted that she was your ex.
What had just started out as a dare to kiss each other made you both realise who you really were, so you started dating and you were together until you went to college.
He’s a bit shocked, and when you admit you didn’t tell him because you didn’t want him to think differently about you, he just laughs and hugs you.
“Silly, I still love you! There’s no way this would change that!”
Your next composition had to be about something “From the heart”
It wasn’t much to go off but he managed to get a melody done pretty fast, and as soon as you heard it you ran off to start writing lyrics.
You appeared the next day, sheet of paper in your shaking hands looking nervous as you handed it to him.
When he began to read through them, it was pretty clear the message you were trying to get across. A song about someone coming to terms with their sexuality and the difficulties they can face.
You wouldn’t meet his gaze, and knew straight away that this was your story. He could feel the emotions you had poured into every word, and he couldn’t fault it.
“Are you sure?” He asked, and when you nodded firmly, he got the message.
He simply ruffled your hair and got to work putting your journey into a song to move people’s hearts and do your work the justice it deserve, no matter the struggles of the past, he was here for all those in your future.
Ryo knew for a while, he remembered back in the cafe when you would sometimes get flustered serving cute girls as well.
He thought it was kind of adorable to be honest, the way you tried to cover it up
But he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so he didn’t push you to admit anything to him.
You were so nervous when you did finally admit your sexuality to him, and were a bit surprised when he chuckled and admitted he knew already. You couldn’t help but question why he wasn’t bothered.
“It doesn’t matter, it just means I have to make sure your eyes don’t wander, doesn’t it?”
You may have been a bit nervous to come out, but to them it doesn’t change a thing. You’re still you, and they plan to love you the same way no matter what. You’re too important to all of them for something as small as sexuality bother them.
HIIII!!!! I’ll just start by saying that I LOVE YOUR BLOG!! AND YOU!!! i see you liking my random posts and i sooo appreciate that!!! i really love your layout, its very pleasing to my eyes (unlike my ugly layout lol)
6.What is your favorite small moment? Probably when Sana gives Isak back “the 10%” on Christmas that warmed my heart.
14.Did you discover any new artists/bands through skam? Oh yes TONS. I now have a whole playlist on Spotify just for Norwegian music. No idea what they’re saying, but I dig it.
23.What scene means the most to you and why? Probably in season 3 when Isak came out to Jonas. I think it’s extra special because in PAUSE (the locker room scene) we see the gears turning in Isak’s head. We see how happy he is, and willing to admit that his dad wouldn’t mind if Even became his boyfriend. Which then opens up the floodgates for Isak to come out, which would be easy for him with Even at his side. But Isak comes out to Jonas alone—heartbroken and brave after Even tells him it’s not working out. Isak is a brave brave kid and I love him.
Mentally ill nonbinaries are cool and awesome. Whether your mental illness has an impact on your gender or not, you’re still pretty amazing and there are so many people who are glad you exist. Like me! I’m glad you exist. Keep being you.
So this is for any closeted trans people, whether you’re non-binary, ftm, or mtf.
If you’re closeted and you want a haircut, but can’t show a picture of the haircut you want without outing yourself, I AM HERE.
I will, for absolutely no cost whatsoever, photoshop a picture that you give me to look like your biological gender, while still retaining the original hair of the person. All that I ask is that you reblog this post to spread the word. Message me the picture, and the gender you want it to look like, + any additional info.
Even if you don’t need/want this, I’d appreciate the signal boosts :)
There are a lot of things good girls don’t. They don’t laugh too loud, they don’t dress too short, they don’t swear and they don’t put themselves out there. They wait, and they do it while sitting properly in their pristine white dresses, with their hands crossed over their laps and their back sitting up straight.
There’s a lot of things good girls don’t and getting their panties wet every time they see a guy is definitely one of them.
You rubbed your thighs together as your fingers pressed tightly to the table you were sitting on, trying to hold on to a reality that was slipping away as you looked at him. You imagined the taste of his skin, and how it must have felt against yours when he was lying on top of you, and you thought about the fire of his kiss, and how it probably tasted like peppermint and just a tiny hint of sin. You thought about heaven and having him lie next to you at night.
The fire that had settled in your lower tummy was going to consume you all at any moment, and you shifted in your seat, trying to release some of the pressure that had built between your legs. You were definitely wet.
But as much as you tried, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, imagining yourself on your knees while your eyes obediently locked in with his. You imagined your lips wrapping around the two fingers he was offering to you, and the light bob you would do to take them all the way in, while your tongue pressed to them to suck them lightly, looking at him as his eyes, usually green and sweet, turned dark, the burning lust covering them as he gazed down at you. You even imagined the light gag of your throat as he pushed his fingers all the way in, and the moan that bubbled up from your very core when he slid them out, the strings of spit that fell down making you blush as you looked down.
“Look at me, yeah?” He would say, with his voice a little raspier than usual as he kneeled in front of you. “C’mon, kitten, look at me.” He would repeat his command slowly, a smirk curling up the corner of his lips as your eyes fluttered open to obey him. “Look at me while I fuck ya with my fingers, yeah? Use all that spit you left. Were you imagining my cock?” He would ask, his smirk growing bigger as you nodded, still unable to speak your own words, as your heart was knotting on your throat and beating rapidly at the sight of him. “You’re such a fucking good girl.”
There are things that are meant to happen, written in the stars and tattooed in invisible ink in the air. They’ll happen no matter which turn you take in the path of life, or how many delays are in the way. They’ll wait for you right until the end when it’s time for a new beginning.
hi! this is a snippet from a fic i’m currently working on, which will hopefully be done soon! lauren @daggersau read some and really kindly drew me this lovely piece of art to go with this part of the fic, so i really wanted to share it! i hope u enjoy x
Harry shifts closer and closer to Louis on the sofa as another film plays on (they’ve been at this for a while now, light from outside steadily creeping away, film afternoon having turned into a film evening), and Louis is slowly losing his ability to regulate his breathing properly. He can feel the warmth from Harry’s body, can feel Harry’s thigh touching his, and even though it’s a small couch, there’s still plenty of space, so Harry doesn’t strictly need to be this close. Louis doesn’t dare say anything, though. Doesn’t want to.
Harry does get up, though, and Louis misses his presence immediately. Jesus. He spends an hour with Harry in close proximity to him and now he can hardly bear being apart for a mere minute? How pathetic.
Louis’ not suffering for long; Harry’s just come back, along with even more drinks for them all to have. He also brought a blanket, the same one that he’s now draping over them both, all soft and fuzzy and pink. Louis realises, as Harry’s arranging the blanket, that it almost matches Harry’s nail colour; a glossy, pale rose that he hadn’t noticed before. And of course. Of course this hardened boy who wears tough leather and harsh black eyeliner, and does too many drugs to count, also owns a fluffy pink blanket. How very Harry.
“Love the colour, H,” Louis whispers once Harry is settled, because fuck it, if Harry’s allowed a nickname, Louis is too.
“It’s my favourite,” Harry smiles shyly, as if there’s anything to be shy about. Louis focuses his eyes on Harry, and in the low light, the colour of his glowing cheeks almost seem to match the blanket. Louis is helplessly endeared by this boy. Of course his favourite colour is pink, too.
“Hey, lovebirds, stop your whispering,” Louis feels his cheeks heat up at the comment, and he also feels called out. Is he being that obvious? He’s going to kill Niall, honestly, “There’s a time and place for that. You’re the ones who wanted to watch this film in the first place,” Louis head finally whips over to the source of the sound, to see Niall grinning, who’s not actually irritated in the slightest.
“Shut up, Niall,” he hears Harry mutter from next to him, after a beat, voice slightly breathless, and he sounds a bit distracted, attention probably back on the film already. Maybe it’s not such a big deal then; it’s probably just a joke to Harry, Niall’s comment. Louis wishes it could be just a joke to him, would make things, controlling his feelings, mainly, a whole lot easier to deal with. Louis lets out a deep breath. He’s going to be having words with Niall later. “It’s those two you should be worried about, anyway,” Harry adds, gesturing to Zayn and Liam sitting next to Niall.
Niall looks over - they all do - to where Zayn and Liam are sitting together. They’re all curled up to each other, oblivious to the conversation around them even more oblivious to the attention on them. They’re in their own little bubble, reciting the lines from the film to each other. It’s sweet.
Louis remembers the conversation he’d had with them in the pub, weeks ago now. Remembers what they’d said about feeling secure in each other, how they just knew.
“They’re adorable, aren’t they?” a whispered voice travels to Louis’ ear, barely loud enough. He knows who’s said it though.
Without looking away from the couple, he responds, “Yeah. They’re lucky.”
“They’ve always been my gauge, you know? Ever since they first got together. They fell in love straight away, I think, even when we were kids you could tell,” Harry continues, voice low so as not to earn another comment from Niall. Also, perhaps to keep their conversation private, too. Louis stomach flutters at the simple prospect of him and Harry having secrets together, exclusive discussions that only they hear. Fuck. Louis’ already in so deep if this is what he gets excited about.
“Your gauge?” Louis whispers back, confused at what he means.
“Like, my measurement. For relationships, I mean, people I meet. I’ve always been a bit nervous that I’d never actually find anyone, because my standards are so high, but it’s important to me,” he continues, a bit sheepishly. “I say to myself, if they don’t seem like they’re gonna make you feel like Zayn and Liam make each other feel, that almost tangible feeling of just… pure love, then what’s the bloody point?” Harry responds, light humour in his tone, but Louis can tell, is able to tell now, when Harry’s being genuine or not. And he is, with this. He obviously admires his friends’ relationship a lot.
“Oh. I see,” Louis says softly, and then decides he’s just going to risk saying the next thing he says before wimping out, “So… has anyone lived up to that yet? For you?” Louis doesn’t know why this question makes him so nervous, why he has to work on regulating his breathing yet again in preparation for the answer. (He knows. Of course he knows).
“Hm.” Louis can feel Harry’s gaze latched to him now, and he moves his eyes from Zayn and Liam back to Harry. It’s always back to Harry, it seems. “Not until–” Harry stops then, a puzzling look on his face that Louis can’t quite decipher. Then, unmistakably, in their close proximity, Harry’s emerald gaze flickers from Louis’ eyes, to his lips, and then back again. Louis is almost fully sure that he stops breathing for a second there. “I’m not sure, now, actually.”
Louis has to avert his gaze, has to vacate the intense moment immediately. Harry’s heavy stare is almost too much, never mind the weight behind the words. Louis can’t, doesn’t want to think about what Harry could possibly mean, doesn’t want to take it the wrong way, because Louis always takes it the wrong way. Louis’s past, whether with his family or relationships, has been disappointing, to say the least, and he’s been let down too many times to count. It’s ironic, too, because now Louis barely ever lets himself feel anything, will never admit to himself properly how feels, out of fear of disappointment, but he can’t really help it when it comes to Harry. He doesn’t want to be disappointed, though, it’s happened too often before. Harry’s his friend, and that’s enough. It has to be enough.
hey friends who are in my inbox like ‘sorry you probably don’t take requests but…’ yes! i absolutely take requests! i always will! they’re like free candy! y'all are like stacking a bunch of chocolate and caramel and sour patch kids in my mailbox and apologizing for it??
shh. don’t say sorry. i love you. it’s enough candy that i’m wading through it on my way out the front door every morning, stepping on boxes accidentally, yeah, and i will never be able to eat all of it no matter how much i love smarties and butterscotch and sugared violet petals and gum drops and writing you stories, but you are wonderful and i’ll do my best.
and yeah sometimes it’s strawberry candy that i can’t eat because i’m allergic and i hate dying, so i don’t write anything for it; or it’s grape which i just dislike; or peppermint where i hate it if it’s bad but sometimes someone will get it just right and i’ll fall on my face and write thousands of words about severus snape while crying inside.
and then sometimes you send me a box of raspberry cream dark chocolate truffles and i clutch it to my chest and savor every word.
but even when you send me asks that aren’t my cup of candy, it’s generous and sweet of you to send them and i appreciate you