#not to be one of the girls. but to sort of...be protected by and from them

[heartyluv]

Note: Apologies for my abrupt and brief radio silence, luvlys. I missed you guys and worked on this for you at some point while I was gone. I hope you enjoy! 😚

Warning: Smut (protected sex!), please don’t do what reader does in this irl omg LOLLL

Word Count: 2.9K (why can’t i keep anything shortttt)

Summary: Caleb reallyyy likes the new delivery girl.

Horny!Caleb/DeliveryGirl!Reader

Somehow in the span of Caleb ordering himself dinner and waiting for it to arrive, his dick had gotten hard. The desperation to have some sort of relief was overriding any hunger he felt, making it impossible for him to sit still on his living room couch.

It was one of those moments where it just hit him—where nothing necessarily provoked it, but he felt that subtle ache in his sweatpants that became too bothersome to ignore the longer he tried. He wanted to hold out since he wasn’t too keen on the idea of being mid stroke, only to be forced to stop and deal with rushing to wash his hands whilst trying to contain what would inevitably be a very obvious hard-on in the event that his food got to him quicker than he anticipated.

It’s because it’s happened to him before that he’s so wary.

But with the twenty minutes that passed, he couldn’t help but surrender to the greed within him and assured his horny mind that he definitely had it in himself to make it quick—that he could come fast enough before the usual delivery man showed up.

Unfortunately for him, though, at the same moment that he picked up his phone to watch one of his favorited videos while he jerked himself off until he couldn’t take anymore, the bell rang.

If that wasn’t a way to make a man soften, he didn’t know what else could.

“Gotta be kidding me,” he chuckled to himself and shook his head. Throwing his phone down onto the soft cushions, he let out an exaggerated huff as he stood and mentally chastised his cock to behave. Once he approached the door, he fixed his demeanor and briefly checked below the belt to make sure he was presentable before he opened it with a polite smile.

But almost as quickly as he sported it, it dropped just as fast.

It wasn’t Mr. Russo, the older salt and pepper haired pizza delivery man he’s pretty cool with. Instead it was you, a sight so fucking captivating that all intentions he had to disregard the problem in his pants was fair to chalk up as relatively implausible.

You smiled at him so sweetly, the sound of separating velcro grating his nerves as it clashed with and overpowered your whimsical voice when you went to pull his pizza out of its heat-holding bag.

“Good evening!” you chirped. “One large cheese pie with pep and mush for…” Taking a brief look at the receipt on top of the box, you continued. “Caleb?”

He shouldn’t have been getting hard all over again when he saw you in the first place—that was a given. You weren’t some piece of meat, rather just a woman doing her job. But he couldn’t help but be near steel when his name rolled off your tongue, leaving him utterly bewitched as the innocence in your recitation somehow made it even more alluring.

He hated to be brief in his efforts to survey the beauty that is you. From light denim jeans that were damn near painted on to your grey collared uniform shirt with the pizzeria’s logo splayed across your chest doing nothing but outlining the curves of your breasts perfectly, there was no way he could be normal about you.

Oh, and your visor. Yeah, that was cute, too.

“T—That’s me,” he stuttered before clearing his throat, but he couldn’t be embarrassed about the subtle voice crack when your eyes mirrored patience and understanding. It made him wonder what they’d look like when replaced with lust and pleasure.

Would you let him find out?

Selfishly, he wanted to hear more of you. What better to do than spark conversation?

“Mr. Russo doing alright?” he inquired as you handed him his meal. “I don’t think he’s missed a day before.”

“Oh, he’s fine! He’s been busy training a few new hires, so he’s in-store for now. He told me some regulars might be confused to see someone other than him delivering their food,” you chuckled.

“Ah,” Caleb nods, incapable of ignoring the shudder down his spine when your soft fingertips grazed his skin after he took the boxed piping hot cheesy delicacy that was waiting for him. “I assume you’re one of them? I’ve…never seen you before when I went.”

“Yeah, actually. Started two weeks ago.”

“Cool, cool,” he nodded, the insistent throbbing of his cock only getting spurred on the more you held eye contact with him. He was torturing himself at this point, but he couldn’t bare to see you walk away. Not when you’d be a perfect solution.

Realistically though, you couldn’t go anywhere even if you wanted to. He still hadn’t paid you, and it was the fact that you were just standing there in silence with the bag on your side and a calm tolerance etched across your features that made him realize he never got the cash out his wallet after placing his order.

“Shit!” his eyes widened, ultimately failing at shaking away his salacious thoughts when his gaze briefly landed on your plush thighs that he couldn’t help but crave to be in between. “I’m so sorry. Give me a minute. $19.50, right?”

“No worries,” you assure. “Happens to the best of us. And yup, $19.50!”

Just as he turns around to rush and go fetch your payment, a quick thought comes to his mind. He gives you his full attention again, pressing his lips together as he wondered if it was wiser to just let you remain where you are. But Caleb wouldn’t be the man he is if he wasn’t a gentleman.

“You can…” he points a thumb backwards into his apartment. “wait inside if you want. I’m not entirely sure where my wallet is at the moment and I’d feel awful about you waiting in this warm hallway if it takes me a second to find it.”

Well…it is hot. Even though the sun had set, with this heat wave, it was a still a sweltering 85 degrees on this humid July night, and it somehow felt worse as you stood in the clean yet suffocating hall of his building.

But you knew better—you knew you had zero business going into a stranger’s house, let alone a man’s. You should’ve quickly declined already and made sure he knew you didn’t mind waiting as long as you needed to in the uncomfortable temperatures.

Instead, his alluring smile, strong muscles, and captivating voice that he so smoothly exudes, were like kryptonite along with the cool air that wisps against your sweat slicked skin, calling to you from behind him.

Mr. Russo knows him and knew this was my last delivery before I headed back. It’ll be fine. Besides, he seems harmless, and I don’t feel there’s anything to worry about.

You were trying to convince yourself, and it sure enough worked because with the survival skills of a baby deer, you swallowed down your hesitance and accepted his offer before he stepped aside to let you in.

Never did you think that when you woke up this morning, got ready for work, and went about your day until you got the address for your last delivery, that you’d be getting fucked by the customer.

How you got here was just as—if not more—surprising. You have never slept with a stranger before. Ever. But the man getting ready to pop that cherry seemed like a more than suitable candidate.

When you waited for Caleb to find his wallet and two minutes turned to five, a part of you grew concerned when the busying footsteps ceased.

You didn’t anticipate that when you embarked on your search to make sure he was okay, you’d find him in his bathroom with the hem of his white tank top in his mouth to suppress his groans as he desperately pumped his cock in his hand.

A normal and more plausible reaction would’ve been to run out, to apologize profusely for the interruption, to even offer the pizza for free—anything to get you out. But he never stopped touching himself and you couldn’t stop staring as his precum beaded at his flushed tip until he took it to work the sticky substance down his length before it went to waste on the rug.

He had let the fabric fall from between his lips and kept his eyes on you the slower his movements went, abs flexing with any subtle shift. Breathlessly, seemingly still cocky despite the pink tint on his cheeks, he purred with a smirk, “Why don’t you join me? I’ll tip you nicely for your help.”

And it was with great surprise to both of you that you nodded. Not a moment of hesitance was shared when you got closer and let him kiss down your neck as your body pressed into him, feeling the heaviness of his cock against your belly.

Not only was he handsome, but he made you feel a type of arousal that you don’t think you’ve experienced before. It was consuming, foreign—but it was something your mind and body knew only he would be capable of stoking the flames of and dousing them when the time came. Weirdly enough, you trusted him enough to take care of the temple that is your body.

There was no need to prep you, your cunt already slick with desire and clenching fervently in your white cotton panties from the need to have him as deep as you anticipated he’d go. So when you assured him of that and he was given your consent, he bent you over his countertop to make you watch the yearning in your pupils as he pulled a condom out from the drawer.

Only an inkling of gentleness was used when he tugged your jeans and the thin material against your pussy down, revealing only the necessities and leaving you just as exposed as he is.

He rubbed down your puffy slit back and forth as he expertly ripped open the golden foil packaging with his teeth and rolled the lubricated condom down his veiny cock. Your walls clenched tightly in excitement at the sight alone.

When he finally breached your hole, there was no such thing as masturbation in his mind anymore after getting the opportunity to have you like this. He almost came inside the rubber like he was feeling the tight warmth of a pussy for the first time, but that’s exactly what your spongey walls were to him.

He’s never felt anything so snug and perfect in his life, and the whimper you two vocalized together as your bodies joined made him believe that the feeling was shared.

The way your eyebrows knitted with pleasure and pouty lips parted as he buried himself to the hilt in one swift motion was so euphoric to witness. It was almost like he could feel your bliss mingling with his own.

How could he possibly imagine giving up something so special?

“S—so full…mmph…” Your head dropped between your shoulders for a moment from the overwhelming feeling, and the erotic pitch in your tone made his cock twitch insistently inside of you.

“You suck me in so good,” he cooed with a exasperated grin, teeth tugging on his bottom lip as his eyes worshipped your beautiful stretch marks. Your back arched as far as you could go to let him reach the most personal parts of you. Shamelessly, you met him thrust for thrust to answer his question.

“Keep fucking yourself on me…just like that…”

His gaze met yours briefly in the large mirror before it went back to watch how your slick made the condom glisten when it caught in the light. Even with it on, it was like he could feel every glide against your insides as if he were bare.

“You’re so fuuucking soaked.” The deep grunts masked over his words made your stomach flip. Or maybe he was just that deep in your guts. Perhaps it was both.

His powerful hips rutted into your plush flesh to make the echos of smacking skin an entrancing sound he wished he had access to whenever he wanted.

Caleb couldn’t help but have his hands all over you—gripping your ass, smacking it to make it jiggle more than it already was, and gripping your hips to bring you close when you felt far. Addicted was too insufficient of a word to express how far gone he was.

“You’re my special delivery girl, aren’t you?” His hold grew firmer and you were thankful for it because without that pinch as a reminder, you would’ve already been in the clouds and completely taken.

“I am….I am…” you chant, the mouthwatering sting of his heavy balls against your clit making you nothing but a mess beneath him.

And you took on all of his onslaughts with delight, stars gleaming in your vision when you snaked your hand down to your sensitive bundle of nerves to make your orgasm come faster. If you didn’t, you were almost certain it would bring you to tears.

“C—Caleb, please don’t stop,” you mewled, your whines increasing as his pace did the same.

“Only you could get me to…” He fisted your shirt to make sure you remained pressed to him so that he could keep that intoxicating momentum.

You found yourself wondering if you hit the sex partner jackpot with the way he was slamming into your heat and begging you for more when he already had it all. Slender digits hastily circled your clit, the combination of that and the man buried within you making it hard to differentiate where you began and he ended.

“You’re gonna make me c—come…I’m about to…oh fffuckk,” you cried, your muscles choking him and making his own impending climax inevitable as your sharp breaths and jolting body became his motivation. You nearly became slack against the heated surface, your already drenched cunt turning into a waterfall from his unrelenting thrusts. Your mewls shuddered as they escaped your throat and were full of desire the more he used you to chase his own high.

Your unyielding hold around his dick only allowed Caleb a few more strokes before his actions stuttered behind you, his consistency faltering as a familiar pressure built inside of him. His heart pounded and ecstasy coursed through his system before heavy streams of cum pulsed from the head of his cock, flooding the thin latex that separated him from filling you to the brim until all you could do was thank him for it.

He was speechless, watching how your thick thighs shook and your fat pussy trembled around his throbbing length.

“I don’t usually do this,” he pushed out a winded titter. “Just fucking anyone that lets me, I mean. I have self control—I don’t want you to think that I don’t. But there must be something about you…”

You felt a surge of warmth in your chest as his thumb caressed your exposed skin while he tried his best to find the right words.

“Neither do I,” you admit. “But…I really enjoyed it. Maybe I need to be delivering to you more often.”

He snorted unexpectedly, nodding and licking his lips. “I can agree.”

You tensed and he hissed when he slipped out of your delicate body after giving you a warning. He tied the condom once he pulled it off before disposing of it, and you kept your eyes on him—part of it was simply out of curiosity about who you just slept with and the other in silent admiration.

Caleb was aloof to your staring while he cleaned off his cock and helped slide your pants back up from behind as you remained bent over until he brought them high enough that you needed to stand.

God, was he pretty. From his sharp jaw, angled nose, and soft hair—he was a perfect embodiment of anyone’s dream.

“What?” he asked shyly. You damn near fell out when you watched him blush like he wasn’t a different person just seconds ago.

“Nothing.” His arms come around to zip you up and button your jeans. “Just…I think I like looking at you.”

“You think?”

“I have to get to know you before I’m sure.”

“That’s fair.” His hands rested on you, pressing more kisses down the side of your throat. “You could stay. I’ll tell you everything you wanna know.”

“Of course you’d offer that,” you tease. “But I have to bring the money back to the store. I’m probably raising alarms already with how long I’ve been gone.”

“I can call Mr. Russo.” His hair tickles your cheeks the further he goes. “Tell him I’ll pay him double—no, triple—to let it slide. Would you stay then?”

“We’ve always been taught to be wary of strangers, Caleb.”

“I was just inside your pretty pussy, baby. I know what you feel like when you come, how you bite your lip when she…” his large hand goes between your thighs and cups you through your jeans. “feels good. Now I even know that penetration alone isn’t enough to get you off. And I’d like to learn more. Trust me, we’re a little bit past that stranger phase, don’t you think?”

Now you’re the one with a heated face. “Maybe.”

“I won’t try to convince you. It’s your call, but I…wouldn’t mind getting to know my helper on a deeper level.”

You audibly laugh, making him smile. He seems to like all the sounds you make.

“I’ll even let you take a picture of my ID so you can send it to anyone you want to for your safety and peace of mind. If you do wanna stay, you tell me whatever I need to do to make you comfortable.”

You turn around to face him. Placing your thumb over his lips, you press yours to the digit and smirk as he frowns over the barrier you’ve placed. “Soon.”

He reluctantly accepts defeat, the pit in his stomach already forming at the thought of you leaving.

“Soon,” he parrots, only his cadence makes it sound more like a promise.

Once he actually gives you the cash and the generous tip like he promised, Caleb sulks all the way to your comical car with a cartoon pizza mascot on top, shutting the door after you get behind the wheel and pressing a tender smooch to your forehead when you roll the window down to say goodbye one more time.

“No goodbyes,” he says firmly. “See you later.”

You grin so hard that it makes the apples of your cheeks pop. “I’ll see you later, Caleb.”

The needy man watches you pull out of your parking spot and fixates on your taillights until they disappear into the night and you’re completely out of sight.

Thankfully though, with your phone number saved and despite an undoubtedly cold pizza upstairs that he needs to reheat, Caleb now has a newfound specialty he plans to ensure becomes a permanent addition to his palate.

🍎 Tags: @innergardentoadpony @teacupwaifu @mcdepressed290 @calebapplepie @xcelfer @honeymoonfleur @obeythebutler @notsurewhattocallthisblog8888 @honeycrispangels @dummiebunny @sucre-princesse @brailsthesmolgurl @klossnite @grlyeetswrld @moonchildjae00 @caien @multisstuff @littledarlingsthings @purpleamethyst25 @lazygelpen @meadowinthesky @grackerzzz @nod4mnm3rcyy @loveinorion @ur-l0cal-crypt1d @inutrasha94 @cowaungabungabby @gravity-pilot @nyanahogini @rosiesluv @goochfiddler99 @torturedbabyapple @kiyadeleine @carcelswaifu @blushofeve @whattnanii @ashirelle @sylvieisoffline @saturnquartz @dewmarionette @horanghaeegr @iconoclastoc @beesin03 @dramaticalsachan @ajyoursgirl

♾️ Tags: @starryeyed-apple @asiatic-apple @sensual-study @sweetcalebb @asiaticapple @raemanova @awquaz @callads7 @floatinginaer @crimsonsylus @aquarianbeat

Creds to @/saradika for the pizza & star dividers!

[batsybat91]

Johnny wakes up at 7 o'clock sharp. It's his day off, so he has time to run his errands. He has a little list on a sticky note so he doesn't forget anything.

Get the mail

Get gas for the car

Pick up my prescription

Grocery store!! Need bread and eggs!

Getting the mail is easy. His mailbox is just at the end of his driveway. He has the paper, junk mail, a bill, a letter from his sister, and... a light blue envelope. The envelope has a dark blue wax skull stamp on it. Johnny tucks the rest of his mail under his arm, cracking the wax and pulling the card out.

"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. Simon Riley and..." he mutters. "No fuckin' way!! I told those bloody arseholes! She's real!"

Johnny turns the card over in his hand, a picture of you kissing Simon's cheek, both of you dressed in black. Johnny's surprised Simon let his face be on this. Even though your eyes are closed, he can tell that you love him more than anything in the world.

"Good for him." Johnny grins. "I better be the best man."

He hangs the card on his fridge, marking the date down in his calendar on his phone. The rest of the day seems mundane now.

--

Kyle has been putting off getting the mail for about two weeks now. His little P.O. box is flooding with papers of all shapes and sizes. This morning, he finally picked it up. When he gets back to his apartment, he flops onto the sofa and sorts through it.

"Junk, junk, junk, bill, magazine, coupon, coupon..." he mumbles, tossing each item into its respective pile. "What's this?"

In his hands - the last thing in his absolutely monstrous pile of mail - is a baby blue envelope. Sealing the envelope is almost a TARDIS blue wax seal. The seal depicts a small skull with its mouth open. He gently opens the envelope, brows furrowed. Inside is a black card with gold lettering

"You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. Simon Riley..." Kyle reads aloud. "Holy shit. Soap wasn't lying!"

He flips the card over, only to see a picture of a beautiful woman kissing the bloody Ghost! Kyle can tell by the light in Simon's eyes that he has found someone who truly loves him. And she's just as pretty as Soap said!

"Good for them," he chuckles, pinning the card to his corkboard. Kyle scrawls the date down on his calendar, smiling the whole time.

--

Price needs to go through the mail. It's been sitting on his kitchen counter for three days, accumulating more and more shit. He doesn't know why he even gets half this shit. It's all ads, ads, ads. Ocassionally, he'll get a useful coupon here and there. He likes Go Outdoors coupons the most. He needs a new hat, he thinks.

While he's idly looking through his mail, he spots a blue envelope. It has a wax seal on it. Price narrows his eyes at the envelope. He doesn't recognize the address, but it has Simon's name on it. With little ceremony, he opens the envelope. He pulls out a gold-on-black card. "You are cordially invited to the wedding of Mr. Simon Riley," he grunts. "Well, shit. I owe Soap an apology."

On the back of the card is a gorgeous lady kissing Simon's cheek. Simon's brown eyes are shining with pride, and he can see the woman is hiding a smile. Price rarely sees Simon without his mask on, but he seems to do it so freely with this girl. "Good for the bloke," he chuckles, putting the invitation on his office desk.

Simon deserves something good in his life, Price thinks, a hint of sadness behind the thought. He's had the hardest life out of any man Price has ever met. It's about damn time something happy happens to him.

--

"Simon, I cannot believe you didn't tell them about me until we sent out those invitations!" you exclaim, swatting his thigh.

Simon shrugs. "I was protecting you. Didn't want the bad guys to find my lady, now did I?"

"Well, I think you should have still told them!" you huff, crossing your arms. "It's a lot to drop on someone, you asshole. If one of my friends suddenly sent me a wedding invitation when I thought they were single, I'd have a bloody cow!"

"It's different for men, love," he replies softly, pressing a gentle kiss to your crown. "I didn't even know Johnny had sisters until a couple of weeks ago."

"That's ridiculous," you scoff. Simon pulls you into his lap, smoothing his hand over the curve of your spine. You melt immediately, resting your chin on his shoulder. He kisses the side of your head, which makes you go even softer.

"I think I would've kept you all to myself forever, if I could have," he says against your hair. "But I think being able to call you my wife outweighs that."

You sigh softly. "I still think you should've told them."

He chuckles, a low rumble deep in his chest. "I think it's more fun this way."

"Maybe," you giggle. "I hope they liked the invitations."

"They were perfect, baby," he promises, kissing the corner of your mouth. "You did a good job."

Part I

Part II

Tags: @ax-alienated, @despairinglakepasta, @tessakate, @yourfavgaygaijingal, @btsgangleader, @adalia-lovelace, @kodokunarisu-blog, @dreamienebula , @cece2608, @hangingmooncloud, @cantfindmelol, @annnnnnnnnac, @trashaccount19, @harringtonsbowgirl, @yuki2129, @julys-mistake-the-second, @arabellatreaty, @herefor-tojis-tits, @h0lydrag0ns, @xylov, @just-lilita

[juniperthesilliest]

! Tw: mentions of body horror !

1: Rosa, she's one of my fursonas

I'll post a lot abt her and lilac later, for now just know that there's this type of virus thing in her world and it causes black roses and black mold to grow onto ones skin. As you can imagine, plenty of body horror.

2: An older character of of mine, I forgot the name, I used to portray them with many broken limbs, most commonly their left arm. I'll post a drawing of them later.

3: the "main" oc's. If I ever label a character or fursona or anything of the such as a "main" then it's safe to assume I have inflicted as much emotional pain as I can possibly muster.

4: My side(?) Character that I haven't quite designer yet. They r in the same universe as Rosa and lilac, a member of the hero's party. They we're kidnapped and tortured by the villain party.

5: all of them??? 😭 ok fr tho, I can't decide ᵕ᷄≀ ̠ᵕ᷅

6: I can't tell u their name bcuz it's a major spoiler for a project I've been working on 😔

7: either lilac or this other character that I also cannot give the name of-

8: Alex, the god of animals. This is bcuz they r an element of the natural world, so when in their mortal form they spend most time in the woods and stuff, sence that's where they feel most connected to their element, Now ofc, this also brings room for more drama and events and stuff, allowing me to put them in fights with other divine spiritual beings or whatever the sorts that may be in the woods as well. The woods tend to be a very dangerous place in this universe I will say-

9: ah yes, another instance where I cannot give their name, although I will note this does include the other character mentioned from question 7

10: this is the same character from question 9, bcuz technically they were brought back to life??? They weren't technically dead but at the same time they were???

11: hmm... I don't have anyone for this one?

12: Rosa has insane trust issues, and so ofc this is later revealed to be caused by chronic anxiety (as she is a bunny after all) and also bcuz it naturally comes with being a wolf, in this universe wolves r known for not trusting easily and only relying on the pack. (she's a bunny and a wolf fursona :3) when having panic attacks her heart rate goes dangerously fast and she often times passes out from it, so she copes with this by thinking of her wife to help slow her heart rate and calm herself down.

13: Annabeth, she's from another story plot universe whatever idk. She's a lil girl that gets lost in the woods and is adopted by a witch in an abandoned circus (witch just so happens to be hinted by cryptids n ghosts n stuff) so she cries very often, sence she's a small child (start of the story she's abt 7 or 8 and at the end of the first arc she's around 11 or 12).

14: Rosa copes by thinking abt her wife, lilac. Lilac doesn't tend to have any conflicts throughout her life other then the war, so she has pretty basic coping strategies (breathing in and out, meditation, etc). Annabeth copes by casting some protective spells or carving protection sigils, as it helps her feel safe. Trix copes by singing, humming, or just listening to some music.

15: I like to imagine Rosa finally meeting her breaking point, and essentially explodes. What I mean by this is she finally can't take it anymore and in the haze of her tears and panic and lilacs suprise and concern, she tells lilac abt her hurt. After she let's it all out I could see lilac comforting her, perhaps by making some tea, cuddles, or even just by guiding Rosa out to the fields and helping her lay down and rest on the soft grass :3

its 12:03am I'm prob gonna read this later and cringe at myself :)

Torturing your ocs ask game :)

(Delightful, I know. But we all do it sometimes)

1. Which of your ocs do you most often imagine sick? In what ways?

2. Which of them do you most imagine injured in other ways?

3. Who do you put through the most emotional turmoil?

4. Which oc has been tortured? Through what means?

5. Which of them has the worst luck?

6. Who goes through the most relationship conflicts? (applies to any relationships)

7. Who do you put most into stressful situations or other drama?

8. Who ends up in survival situations the most? How do they fair in them?

9. Has any of them had to be saved from the brink of death? Were there any consequences after?

10. Has any of them had to be revived / brought back to life? How did this affect them?

11. Who is afraid the most? How does this effect them?

12. What kind of health repercussions has your oc experienced through intense stress? How do they manage them?

13. Who cries the most often? What are the usual causes?

14. How does your oc cope?

15. To cap off what kind of hurt/comfort scenarios do you put your oc in?

This can be about canon story events or simply rotating scenarios for fun!

[stlllle]

Hiii! You’re writing is amazing 😊

Could you do a Namgyu x f! reader? where reader is Namgyus ex-finance or smth and they broke up due to him stealing her money for drugs or smth.. but throughout the games she’s been trying to avoid him even tho he tries to talk to her (sort of a 222 and 333 situation). Then during hide and seek(keys and knives) reader gets blue and Namgyu gets red and she sees how aggressive Namgyu has gotten with people and since she’s been trying to avoid him she thinks he will go after her next not knowing he’s still deeply inlove with her. So she’s begging people to switch but no one will. Then during the game he sees someone trying to kill her and he gets them off with Myungi. You can choose the ending but pls fluff!! (can u also include a part where he’s talking to Myungi about reader since Myungi brought up his love for junhee so Namgyu brings up reader and everything he feels)!! no smut please😊Thank you so much❤️❤️

Ashes of Us — Nam-Gyu x f!Reader

📌 Warnings:

Violence, strong language, obsession, toxic relationship, addiction mention, emotional trauma, character death, oppressive environment, psychological tension, intense kiss, unresolved feelings. (18+ for themes, no smut)

📌 Word Count:

~12,500 words

📌 Author’s Note:

Hiiiii, I’m so happy you sent this request 🙂

I’m not sure if it turned out good… but here it is (for some reason I really struggled to write this, like, rewrote it so many times lol).

If you read and enjoy it, I recommend checking out my other stories 😛

Requests are currently closed, but if you think your idea is really good, feel free to send it anyway (I just won’t be fast to answer!)

Masterlist — [link]

You met Nam-Gyu on a Friday.

Rain, neon lights and the smell of cheap beer.

The kind of night where everything starts bad and somehow gets worse.

He worked at the shittiest club in town — half security, half bartender, half problem. And that night, you were drunk enough not to care about any of it.

He was the one who pulled you away from some asshole who wouldn’t take no for an answer.

A shove, a low threat, and just like that — he became the topic of the week in your friend group.

"Did you see that guy?"

"That stare? Holy shit."

"If he grabbed me like that I’d marry him."

You laughed.

But you went back the next week.

---

That’s how it started.

Nam-Gyu wasn’t the type to start conversations.

He was quiet, a little guarded, way too handsome for his job, with a crooked smirk that made stupid girls fall in love.

— “You gonna keep staring or you want a drink?”

— “If you’re the one serving, I’ll take it.”

He huffed, but his ears turned pink.

After that, you started seeing each other. First outside the club, then in shitty coffee shops, then on his worn-out couch watching dubbed movies at 2AM.

Nam-Gyu wasn’t romantic. He was awkward.

He’d buy you cheap chocolate from corner stores and bring you a stolen flower from someone’s garden.

Jealous, protective, but in a way that — in the beginning — felt good.

If someone looked at you too long on the street, he’d drape an arm over your shoulders.

If a guy hit on you at a bar, Nam-Gyu would appear out of nowhere with that dead-eyed stare.

And you fell for him.

Fast. Hard. Ugly.

---

The nights with him were the best.

Laughing too loud after two cups of shitty soju.

Singing old songs on empty sidewalks at 3AM.

Nam-Gyu sleeping spooned against you, face buried in your neck, mumbling slurred promises.

— “We’re gonna get outta here, you know?”

— “Yeah? Where to?”

— “Tokyo. Or Busan. Fuck it, anywhere far from this shithole.”

You’d laugh and call him an idiot.

But you believed him.

He made you believe.

---

And of course, there were fights.

Because he was possessive, insecure, reckless.

You hated when he’d disappear for hours with no word.

He hated when you so much as spoke to a guy.

But you made up.

Always circled back to each other.

The fights ended with him slamming the door, then coming back hours later, face scuffed, exhausted grin, holding a plastic bag.

— “Here. Strawberry. Your favorite.”

— “You can’t buy me off with candy, Nam-Gyu.”

— “Shut up and eat it.”

You did.

He held you.

And you fell asleep together.

---

But little by little… it changed.

Nam-Gyu started acting strange.

Tired. Distant. Hollow.

You pretended not to see.

Then money started going missing.

At first it was coins.

Then bills.

Then your favorite earrings.

Your old camera.

When you asked, he’d brush it off.

Said you lost them.

You knew better.

But you were scared of the truth.

Until one day, you caught him.

Came home early, found him in the bathroom.

Thin. Pale. Shaking.

And the drugs right there on the counter.

Your world cracked in half.

— “What the fuck is this, Nam-Gyu?!”

— “It’s not what you think.”

— “It’s exactly what I think!”

He tried to hug you.

You flinched.

— “I’m trying, okay? I’m gonna quit.”

You wanted to believe it.

For a while, you did.

---

The relapses came fast.

He’d disappear for days.

Come back wrecked.

You’d scream. He’d cry.

You’d swear you were leaving. He’d promise to stop.

You spent your savings bailing him out.

Paid rent. Paid debts. Paid for hospital nights.

Until the day you checked your bank account and saw it was empty.

Every last cent.

Years of work.

You knew instantly.

You came home ready to kill.

Door cracked open.

Apartment trashed.

Nam-Gyu half-conscious on the floor.

You screamed, shook him, called an ambulance.

He barely whispered.

— “I’m sorry… I couldn’t…”

— “Where’s my money, Nam-Gyu?!”

— “I… I needed it.”

You hit him.

Cried. Screamed. Called him every name you knew.

And you left.

Small bag.

Puffy face.

Shaking hands.

He tried to stop you at the door.

— “Don’t go.”

— “I already did.”

The door slammed shut.

You never went back.

---

And you thought that was the end.

Months later, new job, new number, new apartment — you almost forgot.

Almost.

Until you woke up in that goddamn arena.

A number on your chest.

And across the field.

Those eyes.

The same.

But dead.

Covered in blood and dirt.

The same boy you loved.

Now a ghost.

And before the shock even wore off, all you could think was:

Fuck. He’s here.

He’s alive.

And I’m screwed.

---

---

The smell in that dormitory was always the same.

Metal, sweat, dried blood clinging to the concrete.

You’d been there long enough to know nothing changed.

The iron bunk beds, the numbers on chests, exhausted faces, and the constant, suffocating fear.

But since the day you saw Nam-Gyu there, fear had turned into something else.

Panic.

He was there.

And unlike you, he seemed fine.

Too fine.

Always quiet, lying on the same bunk, with that empty stare.

And it was always on you.

Since you’d run into him in the courtyard after the first game, you hadn’t been able to breathe properly.

Hiding in the furthest corners, avoiding eye contact, switching bunks every night.

But it didn’t matter.

He always found you.

You felt it.

---

That night, before the next game, the dorm was restless.

Whispers everywhere.

Everyone felt something bad coming.

You were curled up in one of the farthest bunk corners, staring at your hands, trying to make yourself invisible.

And then you heard it.

— “You’ve had that look since yesterday.”

Myung-gi, Player 333, hanging his head from the top bunk to look at you.

You didn’t answer.

— “Relax. Can’t get worse than this.”

You let out a dry, bitter laugh.

He dropped down to the lower bunk beside you.

— “So? You leave anyone out there?”

— “No.”

— “Liar. Everyone left someone.”

Silence.

You stayed quiet.

Myung-gi grinned sideways.

— “I left someone. One of those fucked up loves too.”

— “Good for you.”

— “Was starting to think I was the only dumbass loving the wrong person.”

You were about to snap back when you felt it.

That stare.

Again.

You lifted your eyes and there he was.

Nam-Gyu, on a corner bunk, staring at you the same way only he could.

Your throat tightened.

Myung-gi noticed.

— “Ah… it’s ‘cause of him.”

You didn’t reply.

— “You two knew each other before, huh?”

— “Shut up.”

Myung-gi chuckled and moved away.

Nam-Gyu didn’t.

---

The announcement came right after.

That soulless, metallic voice filling the dorm.

“Players, prepare for the next game. Proceed in single file to the instructions hall.”

The shuffling of bodies, footsteps on concrete, everyone lining up.

You kept your head down, trying to disappear in the crowd.

But you knew.

You felt his eyes burning into your back.

Always.

---

In the instructions hall, all players in line, the screen lit up.

Hide and Seek.

Two teams.

Blue and Red.

One hunts. One runs.

Knives and keys scattered on the floor of the arena.

The game runs until one side remains.

Your stomach dropped.

Your number flashed blue.

Across the room, you saw his chest glow red.

Fuck.

The air tightened.

You looked around in panic.

— “Someone switch with me! Please!”

— “Piss off.”

— “Please, I’ll do anything—”

— “Not a chance.”

No one wanted it.

You could feel his eyes again.

Even before the game started, he knew what you were about to do.

---

From his corner, Nam-Gyu watched you begging.

Your trembling hands.

The sheer fear on your face.

And something in him twisted.

Or whatever was left.

Myung-gi approached him.

— “You gonna go after her?”

— “I’m not laying a hand on her.”

— “And if someone else does?”

Nam-Gyu clenched his fists.

— “Then they die first.”

Myung-gi gave him a crooked grin.

— “You’re still that fucked up over her.”

— “Always was.”

---

The signal blared.

Everyone moved through the doors into the arena.

A wide, open space.

Concrete floor, clean walls.

Knives and keys scattered everywhere.

You backed up against the nearest wall, pulse hammering in your throat.

People running, screaming.

Bodies hitting the floor.

Blood already marking the pale concrete.

Every footstep echoed.

Until a player came for you.

Sweaty face, knife in hand.

Eyes desperate for a point.

You stepped back.

He lunged.

And the moment the blade swung, a figure crossed your vision.

Nam-Gyu.

The punch was brutal.

The man collapsed.

Nam-Gyu finished him off with a knife grabbed from the ground.

Blood splattered the concrete.

You froze, wide-eyed, heart pounding.

Nam-Gyu raised his gaze to you.

Chest heaving. Hands smeared in blood.

And he said, low, only for you to hear.

— “Told you I’d always protect you.”

---

His voice barely made it out through the thick air, chest heaving, face sweaty, his hand still slick with the blood of the guy he’d just dropped.

You could feel your whole body trembling. Didn’t know if it was fear, shock, or your heart beating so fast it physically hurt.

And for a second, right there in that filthy arena, you just looked at him.

At the same man who ruined your life — and had just saved it.

The game wasn’t over.

Screams still echoed. Knives hitting the floor. Footsteps running.

But you couldn’t move.

He spoke again.

— “Stay with me.”

It wasn’t a command. Or a plea. It was just… almost a whisper.

You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

Then another player came at you from behind. And before you could react, Nam-Gyu was already moving.

Dropped the guy with a kick to the chest. A key stabbed clean into his throat.

You gasped.

— “Fucking hell, Nam-Gyu!”

— “I told you no one was touching you.”

He grabbed a knife off the floor, eyes locked on the remaining players, gesturing with his head.

— “Come on. Stay behind me.”

And against everything logical, you did.

For the rest of that nightmare of a game, he kept people away from you.

Whoever tried, went down.

At some point, Myung-gi appeared, blood on his lip and laughing like a psycho.

— “If it wasn’t so pathetic, it’d almost be romantic.”

Nam-Gyu didn’t even answer.

When the final buzzer sounded and the metallic voice announced the end of the match, the few survivors staggered back to the dorm.

Some limping. Some carried. Some numb.

You moved on autopilot.

Hands sticky, legs shaking, head pounding.

When you passed through the door, you felt the thick, suffocating heat of the dorm again.

The weight of everyone’s breathing.

The smell of iron.

You tried to disappear into a corner.

To an empty bunk.

But he followed.

Nam-Gyu stopped a couple steps away.

You turned to him.

— “What do you want?”

— “To talk.”

— “We’ve got nothing to talk about.”

Your voice cracked.

He ran a hand through his hair, nervous, something you’d never seen before.

That Nam-Gyu never showed anything.

Cold. Sharp.

Now, he just looked tired.

— “I know I fucked everything up.”

You stayed quiet.

— “If I could take it back… if I could undo what I did to you, I would.”

You bit your lip.

— “You ruined my life, Nam-Gyu.”

He closed his eyes. Chest rising slowly.

— “I know. And I’ll never… never forgive myself for it.”

You sat down on the edge of the bunk, burying your face in your hands.

— “Why are you doing this now? Why did you risk yourself for me today?”

He knelt in front of you, right at eye level.

— “Because even after everything… I still fucking love you.”

The words came low. Broken.

— “Even after losing you. After dragging you to hell with me. I still fucking love you, ____.”

You felt your eyes burn.

Your throat closing tight.

And before you could stop it, the tears were already falling.

Nam-Gyu hesitated. Then reached out, slowly.

— “Let me take care of you. Just tonight. Just now.”

You closed your eyes.

For a second.

And rested your forehead against his.

— “I hate you, Nam-Gyu.”

— “Me too.”

A tired, crooked smile.

And then he kissed you.

It was rough, messy, tasted like blood and salt.

But it was real.

You grabbed his shirt. He pulled you closer.

The entire dorm pretending not to notice.

Until Myung-gi’s loud voice cut through from his corner.

— “Finally, fuck. This circus was missing one last act.”

Nam-Gyu flipped him off without pulling away from you.

And for a moment — just that moment — you forgot where you were.

Forgot the debt, the blood, the hate.

It was just him.

You.

And the silent promise that as long as he was breathing, no one would lay a hand on you.

---

THE END.

[oh-no-its-bird]

Naruto is actually so stupidly primed for a k-pop demon hunter au, actually.

Um. Um. Sunlight Sisters team Minato. So, Kakashi Rin and Obito band w Minato as their manager or smthn, or maybe another demon hunter from the previous generation, now guiding them like Selene does for Rumi and co.

Kakashi is actually from a long line of demon hunters, w Sakumo having been one of Minato's teachers. And Minato ended up raising him after his dad died.

But like, shit happens yk? And somehow, when they're at the peak of their careers, Obito ends up falling to the voice of Gwi-Ma— aka demon king Madara. Promising the safety of his teammates and the power to protect them, if only he becomes a demon. A deal he takes, but a deal that ultimately leads to Rin's death— which he blames Kakashi for. Something about, "if only your just let me protect you—" "The only thing here I need protecting from is you, Obito."

Lots of screams, betrayal, the works.

Amongst this drama, Minato ends up hooking up w Kushina, who is, in fact, a demon. Birthing the half demon Naruto, who Kakashi loves as a brother even knowing what he is.

Obito (and his 1,274,294 complexes) takes IMMENSE issues to this and is filled with rage and jealousy. So when HE sells his soul and becomes a demon for the power of hashtag friendship (and evil but he doesn't like talking ab that part) he's suddenly the enemy of mankind and Kakashi's mortal enemy. But when SENSEI fucks a demon and spits out a half demon brat, the kid is an innocent casualty in the war between their kinds????? He calls BULLSHIT.

So, like any rational man, Obito decides to express this feeling of jealousy through child murder.

Minato and Kushina get fucking MURKED on the night of Kakashi's big solo show, aka the show that was originally supposed to be all 3 of them singing to strengthen the barrier between worlds— but ended up now with only him on stage, w Rin dead and Obito out of the picture.

There's like this big epic fight and Kakashi is actually left very injured, covered in his sensei's blood, and holding little baby Naruto. (Obito, gone. Struck through the heart by Kakashi's blade and banished back to the demon realm where he hopefully won't reform for some time)

All of Kakashi's managers are SCREAMING at him to cancel the show— this shits been cursed from the beginning, in their eyes. The news channels are minutes from breaking the coverage of the story, the stadium is packed with people there to support Kakashi and mourn their favorite band.

And despite all the voices telling him to stand down, Kakashi goes on stage.

So anyways he sings a banger so goddamn banging that it strengthens the honmoon for two entire decades to come. It's probably some sort of super sad mourning song, really from the heart, people leave the concert fucking traumatized and wailing "HES JUST LIKE ME FRR" the song becomes an instant hit and is recognized as a timeless tragedy in lyrical form. Good Job Kakashi, u did ur team proud.

(Minato's blood still caked underneath his nails, Kakashi announces his retirement the very next day.)

So like. Time skip. And the actual focus of this au (aka our HNTRX) is teeeeammmm Kakashiiiii yayyyyyyy 🎊🎊🎉🎉 everybody cheer !!!!

So like, half demon Naruto as our Rumi, being raised by Kakashi to fight demons just like his dad did. Joined by his bandmates Sasuke, the sole survivor of his ancient, demon hunting clan's massacre by his elder brother turned demon, and Sakura, the civilian girl with an incredible talent for exorcism who fell into their world by pure chance and refused to leave it.

The demon boy band they face in question would be fucking Akatsuki, actually, bc this is thematically appropriate and also infinitely funny to me. Obito has finally come out of hiding after reforming and is making his come back, managing his own idol group to exact revenge on Kakashi and bring souls to Madara.

I'm ngl tho, there's a lot of potential specifically in like. Instead of it being demon boyband Akatsuki, it's demon boy band Team Taka,,, and then they maybe try and lure Sasuke over to them w the power of lies and promises of revenge,,, idk, but it's a thought

Anyways idk where to really take this, as per usual I really just had my most fun thinking ab team Minato backstory drama. My point stands tho: k-pop demon hunter to Naruto au,,, it has genuine potential,, is all,,,,

Mmm,, Obito putting Kakashi in terrible positions, constantly loudly advertising their beautiful reunion after so long,, the fans would eat it up and Kakashi would be forced to stand there and play along or else the media would tear him apart

[notvictorhugo]

As a trans radfem, I feel the need to say that, if this post is not willfully untrue, it is grossly misinformed, so I would like to clarify a few things.

First of all, no, radical feminism is not "believing men are evil from birth". This is the sort of conclusion you reach by talking to a conservative, taking their scarecrow to be a real thing, deciding that is some sort of extreme feminism, and saying "Oh, no, I am not so radical". Radical means approaching things from the root. We believe that sexism is not because of some weird "all men are this (naturally superior, naturally evil, biologically evil, biologically great), all women are that (naturally submissive, naturally good, biologically inferior, biologically mystical)", which are both the libfem and the sexist position, but rather that there is a societal structure, called patriarchy, which encourages men to act in specific, oppressive ways by providing specific incentives. Since all men are offered these incentives, often at some cost (betraying other people, betraying other people, closing off some part of themselves), and their reward is usually fairly great, most men tend to accept them.

(To give some bibliography, both Wittig's "The category of sex" and the more recent Trans/Rad/Fem, by Talia Bhatt talk about this, and both posit liberation via abolition of sex and gender, not via eradicating men, which is something that you should probably not take as a honest position but as LARPy edgyposting)

The second point, and the most relevant one, is the belief that TERFs thrive because of either radfeminism as described above or some sort of hatred of men. TERFs, in their current incarnation (not in the eighties), love men. JK Rowling, banner of the movement, is constantly praising men, begging for their help and protection, and claiming that they are inherently superior to them. Most importantly, apart from a 2016 twit mocking Trump on abortion, Rowling had no feminist inclinations before deciding to wage war on trans people: the idea that she was a feminist (a radical one, at that!) seems to appear because she supported Labour (but only in its conservative New Labour iteration) and because she was a famous woman beloved by youths. More generally, this entire iteration of TERFism is something planted and watered with money by American christian fascists, which has taken the name of a (particularly nasty and transmisogynistic) branch of 80s feminism to disguise its conservative nature. Whether they have willingly chosen it or whether it has been given by uninformed but well-meaning allies, I am not sure.

Instead, TERFism is gaining ground extremely fast precisely because the mainstream discourse, in both conservative and progressive spaces, seems to have forgotten what patriarchy is and how it works, and, instead, have turned everything into a "Girls vs Boys" thing. The conflating "Radical feminism", a thorough analysis and critique of patriarchy, as "They think men are naturally, biologically evil", only contributes to this, disconnecting us from our history, and in particular the very history that can help us move forward.

A final point. The idea that women complaining about their oppresion by men and patriarchy is contributing to their oppresion as trans people, and that they should just shut up about it for their own good, is conservative retoric. First of all, those who want to wield the accusation of maleness against us will do so, no matter what we say or do not. They don't listen to us, ever. Secondly, even if that were true -even if, in bad faith, our fight for liberation as women lead to dishonest accusations to oppress us as trans women-, does that mean we should just drop our fight for liberation and wait, meekly and silently, patiently nodding to our oppressors, like the good nice women that we are? In a similar vain, we white trans women are constantly being bombarded with the stereotype of the racist white transfem, the idea that we, somehow, are the most racist out of all collectives. Does that mean that white trans women should cease in our anti-racism? After all, if we gain footing in the anti-racism fight, won't that just make those scarecrow inventions even worse? Clearly not. The same thing applies here.

do you think people are self-aware that the overblown fear and demonisation of men as an entire class of people is the reason that TERFs are thriving

[contentloadingandstuff]

Eepy Girls - Ganyu, Yelan, Ei, Dehya and Their Sleeping Habits

A/N: A perfect fic after a long day of everything but relaxing. I bet all of us would love such pretty and caring company. CW: Male reader. As in all my fics, the reader always matches their S/O's lifespan - hence him being an immortal in Ei's part. Enjoy!

Ganyu

What could be better than sleep? Few things as far as Ganyu is concerned, fewer still - if any! - rival sleeping with you by her side. More precisely: with you to snuggle into. Being how she is, endlessly trying to be as inoffensive and timid as possible, it took some time to get Ganyu comfortable with being a bit selfish and needy whenever she wanted. She was afraid she would be a nuisance, oblivious to the fact that one loves their other half precisely because they are a nuisance in their life. After conversations were had and gentle assurances were made, Ganyu revealed her true self - a hopelessly adorable cuddle bug. 

Having been deprived of an attentive, loving touch for most of her life, she still cannot conceive what magnitude of influence simple contact with you has on her. Intertwined fingers are enough to seemingly transfer energy from your body, and endless well of genuine feelings, to hers, invigorating her to face any challenge. In the bedroom however it feels different - in a good way. Your presence feels overwhelming, your heartbeat and breathing feels so loud, your body seems so much bigger and your devotion entirely disarming. When she slept alone, Ganyu would think about her troubles and plan for future issues, but with you? None of that. Protected by the exhausting and suffocating world, Ganyu's mind devotes itself solely to one thought - you. She wants you, whole; not in a base, primal sort of way (Though, um… She does think of that too… It's impossible to avoid when you're this close and this handsome!) but she simply wants to be with you, in that moment, tugged into your warm, strong embrace. Ganyu cuddles herself into you in the closest way possible, always facing you, always resting her head on your chest or belly, hiding her head in your arms. She curls up her legs, tightens herself around you, every move inviting you to hold her closer. Her fingers clasp around your back as if you were to vanish any moment, like a dream, a mirage. She doesn't want that; she wants to feel you, squeezing her, holding her, protecting her, loving her. 

So strong is Ganyu's feeling of safety that her habits and instincts, practiced and engraved into her very soul, seem to break when you're around. Qilin are skittish creatures by nature - Ganyu being no exception - and prepared to stand up at the slightest disturbance and bolt. Ganyu might have slept in hay carts and other awkwards spaces, but never had she had a situation when she was ambushed out of a cozy nap - her senses are simply too good for that. However, when you hold her, there is no force able to pull her out of sleepy bliss, safe for you pulling away. Mountains would crumble around her, armies of the Abyss could gather around and the Jade Chamber itself might be going down, but as long as you stay - she stays. 

What helps her clinginess a bit is her body, cool to the touch thanks to her Cryo vision. Overheating is never an issue thanks to her natural traits and, obviously, various cooling systems she can afford to have in your home. The bedroom is always well ventilated - and not just that. For Ganyu the bedroom is a sacred space, one she insists on tending to herself. Choosing not to employ staff (as she would feel uncomfortable with having somebody serve her), the cocogoat changes the duvet, sheets and covers herself. There is a constant rotation of seven sets, each in a different but matching pattern, changed every month to keep things fresh. Expect a massive duvet, lighter or heavier as the seasons change, the silk smelling of roses, vanilla, citrus or fresh coffee. However, Ganyu is also about rules - her doctor once told her that the bedroom is a space for sleeping and making love only, so there will be no reading, using books or other entertainment in the sheets. She keeps it dark, cool and welcoming. Ganyu will be very happy if you take care of it too. 

As for sleeping getups, Ganyu has a selection of silken and cotton pajamas, each one in simple but vibrant, plain colours. She uses a different one each day, laundered and pressed to perfection. So too are her pillows and perfectly fluffy and always cool in summer, thanks to special, cryo infused threads made by Cloud Retainer. Or is it just her body temperature? As a Qilin, she wields the power of ice from birth, making her natural body temperature lower than that of ordinary people. She's a great summer cooler, but that makes her easily get cold during winter. Do give her a tighter hug when the snow falls, would you?

And watch out for those horns. They aren't big enough to force her to use a special pillow, but you can easily poke yourself on them if you're not careful - if you do, Ganyu will get sad and apologise profusely for being the way she is… Do silence her with cuddles and a gentle stroke of her hair.

Yelan

You never stop being a spy - that’s what every secret agent knows. So far, Yelan did not have to learn it the hard way. Not like she has to - this woman knows what she is doing and why. Whatever she does out in the field follows her home. Always. It’s only right to be ready if it actually comes. 

As such, truly deep and relaxing sleep is a luxury for Yelan. It is not easy to close her eyes when the possibility that the next time she opens them, she’ll could be be in a torture room with the Fatui, Eremites, Treasure Hoarders or any of the other hundred or so groups she crossed over the years. That absolutely reasonable, lingering fear combined with the frequency of nightly missions makes her a natural night owl with a very fragile sleep. Even the slightest of suspicious noises wakes her up and immediately puts her mind into alertness. This has only gotten worse when she became yours, taking a very significant risk of dragging you into whatever shady business she has to deal with on that occasion. Yelan makes sure to put on a mask of confidence at all times in the bedroom to, hopefully, keep you from becoming equally wary of potential dangers. It appears to be working for now. 

Fears aside, being her man means sleeping where she sleeps. It’s not a necessity when she’s out for a day or two, of course, but longer trips abroad often land you in hotels and safehouses that have less than ideal sleeping conditions. She doesn’t mind - she’s used to this way of life, after all - but if you’re uncomfortable, she’ll spend no expense to make the space a bit more cozy. She’s loaded after all, and very happy with the fact that her line of work comes with a protective umbrella for you. If anybody tries to get to you while she’s gone, they will have to make it past at least one guard. Even when they do, the incident will be noticed in less than a couple hours and she would be able to jump straight into the action. 

But what if somebody comes for you both, right in the middle of the night? That’s the nightmare she’s had more than a dozen times, no matter the precautions she takes; and there are very many safety measures around the bed. There is a loaded firearm in each of your night drawers, a knife under her pillow, many additional bolts and locks on potential entry points and magical early warning systems - lawn sprinklers are enough as her Vision training grants her the ability to “feel” through water, somewhat -  that give her a chance at responding early. Yelan usually dresses in sports wear for the night: shorts, a sports bra and socks with toughened heels to let her run with no shoes is needed. If anything comes, she’ll be ready to go; it will be a matter of picking one of the many escape points she always keeps in mind. 

So far, however, nobody came for you or even just for her. This precedent, or lack thereof, is what lets her get any rest at all. Yelan, being quite tall for a woman, prefers to be the big spoon. The sensation of your warmth and your breathing under her palms is comforting. It reminds her you’re here, safe, alive and happy. That’s the only thing she wants in this dangerous, unpredictable world - to keep her better half living a good life. As long as you get some rest, she could stay up all night, making sure nothing comes close to you. 

While she neglects her own sleep - sometimes resting for just two or three hours, your habits are very important to her, especially if you are overworked… That’s something she can really relate to, especially in terms of mental strain. If you take overtime or work late hours, she’ll talk your ear off about how unhealthy it is and try to talk you out of it. When you return late into the night, don’t even think of working, cleaning or gaming; you’ll be pointed to the bathroom, fed a glass of warm milk and tucked into bed. You’re not a kid? Too bad: as long as you have her, you’re not allowed to tire yourself out like her. If she has the opportunity to, she’ll make sure you fall asleep against her chest, thighs or belly as she strokes your hair and hums gently, lulling you to sleep in a matter of minutes. If work calls, she won’t wake you up no matter how tangled into her you are. Yelan is adept at moving unconscious people without disturbing them. Now that you think of it, she could carry you anywhere she wanted when you sleep… How’s that for a scary thought? Luckily, she happens to love you to bits. 

Sometimes there is a chance to sleep undisturbed, usually occurring during daytime or in especially secure places. Yelan has a special set of nightwear for these occasions - an almost see-through silken shirt, always worn to compliment a both fancy and comfy set of lingerie. She knows she’s one hot piece of gal and will shamelessly flaunt that fact in front of you. After all, what man could resist the temptation of nestling between two big, soft and oh-so-fluffy chest pillows after a long day of work?

Ei

For the longest time, the beds in the Tenshukaku stood empty, doomed to collect dust by the Shogun's divine character. Gods don't need to sleep - they don't need any physical maintenance at all, for that matter. Makoto though, wanting to feel closer to her mortal subjects in every way, devoted a part of her day to doing what humans and other critters do: taking baths, eating and sleeping through the night. Despite being simply a pleasant experience, this routine also served to humanise her in her subjects’ eyes, making her further beloved by the people. 

Ei, however, didn't do any of that. She loved her sister, yes, but she viewed her indulgences as unnecessary slackery. While Makoto cuddled up to her pillows, Ei honed her skills, managed the military, patrolled or meditated to pass the time. She didn't want to know humans and yokai better ever since her sister died - in her eyes, all of them are as fleeting as mayflies. Even Miko would perish long before Ei’s soul would dissipate. Getting closer to their experiences would thus be pointless at best, and deeply depressing at worst. 

Having a partner was what opened Ei’s eyes to the idea that ordinary mortal activities are not simply technical in nature. The first time you asked her to sleep with you was confusing to her. Why would you, as a fellow immortal, waste time like so? It took a few months for her to learn that it's about intimacy, not just regeneration. That was a way of spending time Ei understood well, previously having satisfied that need to be together without words throughout mutual meditation. Sleeping, though, was far different - while meditation is about self discovery and emotional discipline, resting in bed has no demands and lets the mind focus solely on the partner. It's just her and you. 

Your hand on her belly, your breath against her ear, the warmth of your body against hers… They are calming to Ei. Who knew the tempests of the cold hearted warrior-shogun of Inazuma could be tamed by kisses and cuddles? Miko did, actually. She always thought Ei was immensely lonely not only in the existential sense, but emotionally too. She would love to see you lovebirds together in bed, but alas, she can only imagine. And what an image it is - Ei and you, face to face, your hands intertwined on the bed, gazing into each other's eyes as you drift to sleep. 

Ei doesn't care that much for the bedroom’s design, but she does enjoy a nice romantic touch - sakura petals scattered around, scented candles, something to deliver a bit of white noise to make falling asleep a bit easier. She commissioned a special fountain from Fontaine for this exact purpose - it's small enough to fit on a bedside table and runs on electro crystals, pouring water against a few rocks to mimic the sound of a flowing river. If she could sleep out in the wilderness, she could. Alas, that does not befit the shogun, nor her husband. Her sleeping gowns are all the same, rich, silken robes with gold thread woven in, dyed purple. The loose, too long sleeves and the precise design of the whole set, letting it appear as if barely holding on and exposing lots of skin to cuddle make her, the ever utilitarian Ei, appear truly divine. She does not need them - she even initially thought using sleepwear to be a waste of time and materials - but just seeing the dreamy expression on your face makes her wear every robe with pride. 

But keep in mind that sleeping next to the goddess of thunder always results in waking up with messy, electrified hair. 

Dehya

Just as the desert follows its own special laws, so does Dehya’s sleep. Her job wrecks rest time in basically every way imaginable - from odd hours, thanks to keeping watch or nighttime operations, to not bathing before sleep or sometimes resting on simply a carpet strewn across the hot sand. Time, place, circumstances all change, but the only constant is you. As such Dehya has built her bedroom around you; you're as pivotal to a good night's rest as a pillow. Truth be told, Dehya could (and does regularly) replace everything but the bedding with you. If she needs a place to rest her head, your stomach, back or manboobs work perfectly and come with a calming rhythm and a firm kind of softness that no other material has. If she's cold, she doesn't need a blanket - not only is her body much warmer than an ordinary woman's, thanks to her vision, but she also has free access to a great, walking, talking furnace she can cuddle to. With all these lovely benefits of sharing a bed, a cot or hammock with you, it's no wonder she gets achy and cranky when sleeping alone. Seriously, how could she have lived like this? Why didn't she find herself a hot, comfy piece of man earlier? Dehya is a very low-maintenance gal in terms of living conditions, but your presence became non-negotiable after the first time she scooted over to make space for you. 

Tough work makes for deep sleep, so don't be surprised when Dehya just plops herself on top of you and dozes off within a minute or two. You never know when the enemy will strike, right? Gotta catch every z you can. This on-and-off schedule and her natural body heat, preventing you from cuddling too closely else you start to get stuffy leads to some really awkward dancing positions. It's not a rare occurrence for messengers to arrive at the sight of her casually splayed out across your back, head right on the buns. What? They're soft, you know. Make for good pillows, they do. 

Desert life is tough; constant travels amongst sandy dunes, no water in sight makes for very sweaty, very smelly people. She has basic underwear to change and some simple hygiene products, true, but don't expect her to smell of flowers when she crashes next to you - it will be more like sweat, some blood and woman smell, you know the type. Only on rare occasions can she allow herself a bath, or sleeping in an actual bed for that matter. She has one back at Aaru Village, rented out as a neat rest-and-recovery spot for waiting out wounds or just unwinding. It's a solid frame with a slightly tough mattress supported on springs and boards. Why such a structure in particular? Well, in her own words, it “makes cool sounds when you rail her”. Besides these structural aspects you can expect the softest of furs to line the bed, collected over time from various creatures (mundane and sacred alike). 

Dehya's sleeping attire is perfectly suited to the environment - when out on commission, it's just her armour with none of the metal and some unnecessary parts removed; the bra is a good example. You've seen, groped and done almost anything a guy can do with her jugs, so why be shy? Might as well let them breathe. When she has that rare privilege of dedicated sleeping clothes, it's usually nothing more than a plain croplet tank top and some pants. Don't get her wrong, these are functional two - they are infinitely simple to slip on and out of, ideal for a rest period. You might not be doing much to the outside world during days off, but such a rare moment of peace and comfort is not something she could pass up on - prepare to get busy! 

Thanks for reading!

[akikohanasaki]

Would it be cool to ask for yandere Eltingville Club, x a reader they originally thought was a boy but was actually a girl? (Kinda like ouran host club) i think it’s just a fun little idea!

Ohshc was such a banger. I HAD to write this one ✋🏻 🙂‍↕️

Yandere!Eltingville Club x Fem!Reader Mistaken For a Boy

---

Bill Dickey

💢 The Gatekeeping Tyrant Obsessed with "Protecting" You

At first, Bill hated you. Not because you were a girl — he didn’t know — but because you were a "newbie" with opinions he thought were "wrong" or “inaccurate” about comics, especially Golden Age stuff.

When he found out the truth… oh boy. His worldview cracked. He spiraled between being furious that a "chick" out-geeked him and feeling violently drawn to you. His anger only fueled his obsession.

“They ruined fandom,” but you're the exception. You're the only girl who "gets it." (Or at least should by his expectations.) That makes you sacred to him — a rare gem in the trash heap of normies, casuals, and fake geek girls.

He starts sabotaging your friendships with the others, harshly correcting your trivia answers, gaslighting you “You never said that, you're misremembering!”, and if you're close to any guy outside the group? He stalks them. Maybe worse.

He'll try to indoctrinate you with “real” comics, giving you his most depraved, obscure favorites and watching your reactions like a hawk. The moment you like something he gives you? His brain short-circuits with delusional affection and possession.

You're his “canon love interest.” He’ll start imagining comics where there are characters based on you and him, but with “you” as his loyal lapdog of sorts. And let me tell you this, he does not handle rejection well. If you reject him, he’ll accuse you of being a poser, of leading him on, of “ruining the club.”

If you get too close to anyone else, he’ll explode. Literally or figuratively. This is a guy who burned down a comic store. Imagine what he'd do to someone who flirts with you.

---

Josh Levy

📼 The Sci-Fi Psychodrama Nightmare

Josh thought you were just another rival nerd. He argued with you about Dune, Star Trek, and sci-fi minutiae constantly. You were fun to fight.

When he found out you were a girl, he froze — malfunctioned like a busted protocol droid. Then the delusions started: he convinced himself the two of you were in some epic, slow-burn enemies-to-lovers arc straight out of a sci-fi romance novel.

He rewatches Star Trek episodes imagining you as the love interest. He writes crossover awful fanfics where you're a misunderstood alien princess and he’s the only one who "understands" you.

Prone to mood swings — he’ll scream at you in front of the others, then follow you home crying about how sorry he is, clutching an action figure as a peace offering.

Deep down, he wants to “rescue” you — not from danger, but from the other guys, from the world. Only he understands you. You’re his sci-fi waifu come to life.

Josh starts hacking badly into your online accounts, reading your forum posts, your private messages. He's not even subtle. He’ll reference things you never told him, smiling like it's a cute in-joke.

In his mind, you have to like him. You’ve been arguing like the leads in every romantic subplot he's ever loved. That’s just how the story goes.

---

Pete DiNunzio

🔪 The Horror-Fixated Control Freak

Pete was the most chill toward you at first — not because he liked you, but because you liked practical effects and horror, and you didn’t talk over him. That was respectable.

When the gender reveal happened, Pete froze. He went quiet for a few days — a rare occurrence. And then he got weird.

He starts treating you like a final girl in a slasher movie — someone to protect, someone who has to survive because you're "pure" in his mind. He’ll act like he's your bodyguard, lurking near you, watching from a distance.

Pete has a twisted romanticization of horror movie tropes — he fantasizes about “rescuing” you from fake dangers he stages himself, just to play hero. You're not a person to him anymore, you're the lead in his personal horror flick.

He becomes hyper-vigilant. Any mention of a date, guy friend, or normal social event outside the Club? He starts snooping. Stealing your stuff. Keeping items that “smell” like you.

If someone hurts you or even upsets you? He will hurt them. That is not a statement. That is a rule. Not necessarily in public. But something will happen. An "accident." And he’ll say something like, “See? The world’s dangerous. You’re safer with me.”

Pete’s not subtle. His room eventually becomes something like a serial killer’s obsession shrine: horror posters, latex props… and now, your photo tacked between a gory bust and a Freddy Krueger glove.

---

Jerry Stokes

🗡️ The Quiet, Fragile Fixation

Jerry was the only one who never questioned your presence in the Club. He welcomed you warmly and was the most polite — albeit shy and awkward.

When he learned the truth, he didn’t speak for days. Not out of shock… but embarrassment. He couldn’t believe someone so perfect, so gentle and smart, had been near him this whole time while he had no clue.

Jerry doesn't express his obsession loudly like the others. He internalizes it. But it festers. He starts drawing you in fantasy scenes, writing RPG campaigns where you're a magical maiden only he can save.

He keeps quiet tabs on you: noting what manga you read, what characters you like, what makes you laugh. You’re his muse, his reason for existing in a world that constantly bullies him.

The others start noticing Jerry’s fixation when he snaps during a game night because someone makes an off-color joke about you. He goes eerily cold, mutters something about how “they don’t deserve her presence.”

He wants to “run away” with you into a fantasy world where it’s just you and him. A place of safety, away from the cruelty of fandom, of school, of the other boys. He starts developing a campaign setting that’s really just a love letter to you.

His yandere side isn’t explosive — it’s desperate, clinging, tragic. If he thinks you're pulling away, he might threaten self-harm. Not as manipulation, but because he genuinely feels like he'll die if you’re gone.

---

Final Thoughts

When they all find out about each other’s obsessions?

Hell breaks loose.

Bill accuses everyone of being "fake fans" and "unworthy."

Josh starts narrating his breakdown like a season finale voiceover.

Pete threatens to kill someone. No irony.

Jerry withdraws, plotting a "rescue mission" for you.

You might be the only sane one left — but you’re now the centerpiece of a club collapsing into madness.

Their love isn’t sweet. It’s all-consuming, twisted by years of repression, fandom, and isolation.

You're no longer just part of the Club.

You're its only reason for existing.

---

I enjoyed this one a lot :3

I missed your request guys but I've been working out a lot so I didn't have the energy to write but I feel like that will change soon.

Love y'all

Akiko's out 👾

[jackrabbit-fandom]

I've been sucked into the K-pop demon hunter fandom, so im making headcanons

The first ones gonna be bobby, cause ik we all love this guy. Im gonna separate platonic from romantic cause some are gonna involve the girls.

Gn for the reader but will involve feminine topics

If yall want any of they others lemme know. I'll write for the saja boys and huntrix.

Platonic:

- i fully believe bobby would have pads/tampons and pain meds for the girls at all times for just in case

- He is the most caring person ever. This is obvious, but he has no issue standing up to a person that makes you or his girls uncomfortable, another idol, manager, or fan.

- hes probably super carful about making sure your eating properly. i subscribe to the 'bobby is a ex idol' theory, so he probably saw the toxic side and is very big about making sure that isnt put on you or his girls.

- platonic cuddles all the way, the best hugger every

- hes always there to comfort you or his girls if its needed, he'll listen to you talk and try his best to cheer you up or give advice. If you dont want ether he'll instead just be a ear to listen

Romantic:

- like i said, bobby is the best hugger. His cuddles are absolutely the best, whether you wanna be a big spoon or little spoon. It's always the best

- his girls are very important to him, so telling them about you two would have to happen. I can see them being somewhat protective, mainly mira. "You hurt him ill break you, understand?" They love their dear manager, so try not to hurt him k?

- arguments are probably rare, but they will happen none the less. Hell, try his best to keep them calm, though, and talk it all out. Though if it ends up going to insulting his girls or anything of the sort, he'll immediately put his foot down. He knows he spends a lot of time with them and with work, so you'll likely have to just deal with that. Hes willing to try and find a compromise, but he'll never throw them under the bus.

- He's probably the kind that gives gentle kisses, holding your face in his hands and giving slowly sweet ones. Holding his face and peppering him in kisses is a good way to fluster him though

- you and his girls would be his whole world, but its fairly obvious he has some insecurities in being able to keep them together or keeping you happy, so make sure to reassure him

- 3% is actually quite a lot given how much huntix probably makes (they own a damn tower and obviously have more than one private jet), so hed pretty well off. Hed probably spoils you a bit, getting you little gifts to show how much he cares.

- i dont think he'd care what gender you were. I headcanon him as pansexual tbh. If you were trans hed try his best to make sure you felt comfortable helping you dress up to look more like your chosen gender whatever that may be, and trying to make sure you feel beautiful/handsome

- if you were afab, like in the platonic ones, he'd make sure to have whatever you needed for that time of the month and would reassure you if you felt dysphoric or just overall awful

Overall, bobby is a great manager/father figure and would make a great partner. He deserves all the love he gets and more.

[shadowcrafter-28]

Now walk with me rq

A Ghostbusters X Kpop demon hunters au called “Ghosthunters” (or maybe Gwisinhunters) (Prt 1)

So there’d still be demons but also ghosts roaming around in Korea. The girls still sing and protect the honmoon while capturing ghosts and eliminating demons.

I’d say the ghosts would work with the demons in order to bring the demon king (king of the underworld) physically into the world, Gwi-Ma.

And it would be how Gozer the Gozerian was brought into the world.

Rumi is still half-demon, ofc, and it’s not revealed until the climax. And that climax for this being almost how the ending went with the actual film and ghostbusters.

And I looked up demonic creatures and found this lion like beast with a horn called “HaeTae.” I thought abt the Terror Dogs in Ghostbusters who were keys to Gozer’s arrival, but they had to possess a human.

And the humans who’d be possessed would probably be Bobby and Celine. Even though the Terror Dogs are supposed to mate before preparing for the coming of Gozer, I’m taking that out and making it where they just have to meet and connect in order to bring Gwi-Ma through. (Maybe with the mating like it would just be a funny bit and not intentional)

I def should make a separate design of how Gwi-Ma would look in human form but also still in demonic form were like with how Gozer has electricity flashing through their body, Gwi-Ma would sort of look like he’s on fire.

Jinu would still appear as a demon but it would be like the situation with Melody and Phoebe from Frozen Empire, sort of.

And in the end, his soul would be restored before giving it to Rumi.

Jinu would warn Rumi of Gwi-Ma’s arrival through two human souls chosen to be the gate keeper and the key master. And then the whole thing where Jinu exposes Rumi does still occur including when he confesses his actual sins, (how he left his mom and sister).

And he goes to help release Gwi-Ma and help ghosts and demons roam. Zoey, Mira, and other fans are also under control temporarily up until the whole song sequence happens. And during it, Gwi-Ma starts to become a physical person after the key master and gate keeper have united.

which was a thought of one of the ghostbusters, Ray, the stay-puffed marshmallow man. I think Zoey would accidentally think of something adorable like a stuffed animal from her childhood or sumthin.

However, in the 1984 Ghostbusters, Gozer became the Marshmallow Man, but in Ghostbusters: Afterlife, Gozer is brought back the same way but doesn’t trick anyone into getting a destructive form.

Prt 2

Prt 3

[bibi-the-pooh]

I'm starting to think that we actually cracked the code. Like, they cannot do better than this.

I also think that Nevermore will be full of insiders from MS/WH, and that theory about Laurel being supposed to bring Tyler to MS (or maybe WH, but I’m kind of convinced they’re tied) but exploiting the mission and using Tyler for her own revenge plan just fits her character definition: slippery, because like you assume, there’s a good chance she didn’t question her resources as long as she got her way; selfish and egotistical. She might have actually thought, “They’re going to use him anyway, why not unlock his Hyde a little earlier?” God, I thought I couldn’t hate her more, but here we are.

Maybe that redheaded girl is actually part of MS and the stalker. She had Laurel’s bangs and hair color, and she is somehow obsessed with Wednesday. She is probably influenced by her family members or MS devotees. They would want to stalk Wednesday and send death threats because they were annoyed that she got in the way and eliminated one of their members. One of the inspirations for this season was Carrie. In that story, Carrie’s mother was a very strict Catholic and a control freak. I’m guessing Annie (I think the redhead’s name was that?) has parents who will be like that too.

I wonder what will happen in that Nevermore lockdown and who will die. Someone we know? Maybe the Prom Night inspiration comes from here. Will they lock down the school on the night of some sort of homecoming party? And the masked killers will take down people one by one, and one of them will turn out to be someone we know. In the original story, it was the main character’s brother. If we adapt this to the Nevermore setting, it might be someone from the werewolf packs. Maybe one of Enid’s brothers? I think she had many of them, lol. This would also explain why Principal Dort would want to cage all of the werewolves.

But I think I’m starting to lose track of the main motive here. Why would MS want to obliterate Nevermore if they already have the reins of WH outcasts—or should I say Hydes? Because of their hunger for power? Do they want to control the other outcasts too? I wouldn’t be surprised if Faulkner was one of them and actually found a way to subdue Hydes. I won’t buy that “Every Hyde has a master” nonsense. (Sorry, Hunter, I love you so much, but WE ARE BEING MISLED!)

OKAY, I swear I’m wrapping up here: the only loose end we have is Owen Painter’s character. I despise those leaks, and I won’t follow their “He’s a Frankenstein-type monster” theory either, because there are already so many outcast types around here. Currently, my best bet would be him being another Hyde who found a way to escape from WH. Maybe he’s not a Hyde, but when he escaped, he must have been in a bad situation. Pugsley might have found him near death, and he probably electrocuted him to save him. He woke up, got away, but maybe some part of Pugsley’s energy stayed inside him. Even if Wednesday doesn’t want to visit Tyler at Donovan’s request, I think an escapee who has a connection with Pugsley would leave her with no choice.

OR Pugsley’s not related to Owen Painter’s character at all; he’s related to Annie. We’re assuming she’s a villain, after all, but she could also be a misled kid like Tyler. Ugh, wouldn’t it be awesome if the two siblings found solace in each other through their deceiving exes? Lol jokes aside, I really want to watch Tyler and Pugsley together and see their banter. It would be even better if Pugsley tried to protect his older sister and judged Tyler by his past, projecting Annie’s betrayal onto him, but once he saw the real Tyler, he’d start to see him as this scary and unpredictable but cool as hell brother-in-law.

The concept of Wednesday visiting Tyler at Donovan’s request (or begging?) is weighing heavily on my mind right now, because what could Tyler possibly know about Wednesday’s new case if it wasn’t related to Laurel?

Yes, there is a strong possibility that Tyler knew about Laurel’s connections and that he might have seen the bigger picture but what exactly is the bigger picture here?

That Laurel was part of this outcast-hating society, and that this society owned Willowhill? Let’s not forget the resemblance between the names 'Willowhill' and 'Thornhill'. Did they fund her to carry out her plans while they tortured outcasts under the pretense of treating them in that psychiatric hospital?

And who funds them? Who would have endless resources? I’ll answer that: a cult of scammers. Was it really a coincidence that Laurel was incredibly skilled at faking her identity and getting accepted into Nevermore?

If she had a siren on her side, she could have forced people to do anything she wanted. That’s where the alliance begins between the Willowhill outcast-haters and the Morning Song cult. Hence, the alliance between Bianca and Wednesday, and them letting Tyler out of Willowhill.

Morning Song would be eager to exploit outcasts, especially Hydes. Plus, they are loyal only to their own cult, not to other kinds of outcasts. It’s plausible to think that they would act together.

It’s only inevitable that Donovan would desperately seek help from Wednesday for his son. Last semester, she was the only person Tyler had any real connection with. If there were two people in that town who saw Tyler as just a boy, they were Wednesday and Donovan.

But what does Donovan want Wednesday to do? To see for herself the state Tyler has been kept in? To prove that his son is still somewhere inside the lunatic serial killer they turned him into? It remains to be seen.

[novelconcepts]

I do think its significant that one of the reasons Travis is seeking Taivan's friendships is that there's no chance of his friendship overtures getting mistaken for sexual interest

Oh yes, I very much agree with this. They're the ones who didn't come at him at all during Doomcoming--for obvious reasons--and I think that still lives somewhere down in Travis' psyche. Hence: these two are safe, in a way, even though they're incredibly dangerous. Even though they've contributed to fear and pain and Javi's death. They're still, technically, safer people for him to be around than the others historically have been.

Also just thinking of Liv saying they've talked with Kevin about Van and Travis, about her butch energy setting her apart from the rest of the girls and his being the only boy his age setting him apart, how their gender dynamics would play off each other. There's something really interesting there, that idea of "nobody else can quite get what I'm going through, including you, but you feel similarly, so there's potential for bond there." That really lands for me, I would love to see more of their interactions on that front.

[grossdyke]

one day im going to make a long post about rita and pansys friendship after the second wizarding war.. just you wait..

[the-midnight-stage]

SEES Vs the shadow IT after a bad ending where the shadows and fog took over Inaba, is this anything

[invinciblerodent]

himh I'll make a Dark Urge that's so fucking scared

big scary bloodsoaked killer, tearing through armies with her literal bare hands? nah. a quiet, scared girl who doesn't understand why she does what she does, why she can do what she can, but is, at the same time, deeply disgusted by herself because she has just enough self-awareness to know to be repulsed.

maybe it's because I'm a tiny bit obsessed with clinging to the thought that people, at the end of the day, are fundamentally good, no matter what. that there is a fundamental human goodness in all people that makes them worthy of redemption, or at least of the opportunity for atonement.

maybe the way I want to play a story like that is with someone who, stripped from indoctrination and free for the first time to think for herself and embrace and be who she is, finds that in the deepest, most hidden pits of her soul, she is not the strong, kind, resilient person she might want to be. try as the might, she is not someone who can bear the weight of her own past, she's just a... a terrified, broken little girl, cowering in the shadows and unable to look herself in the eye. (which also gives me ideas for her relationship with Orin but that's a little bit beside the point)

cathartic self-insert who. therapy? what is that. is it on Steam or Epic.

[laugtherhyena]

Kizuna comphet lesbian is a headcanon that you'll need to chop off my hands if you wanna take it from me