#anyone feel free to write it just send it to me

[thatonegrimm]

Hello Grimm !

It’s a pleasure send you an ask for the first time, if I’m not writing this right, feel free to tell me.

I wanted to request a one shot (or whatever it’s called, I’m not used to these terms, sorry) with the Saja Boys (separately) with a reader who is always innocent and sweet and then the boys find out that they write really dark stories, like thrillers with morally gray characters and that go highly philosophical about the corruption and hypocrisy of humanity, you can write them dating the reader or not dating them but crushing on them, whichever you’re comfortable with !

I hope it was okay and that this made sense lol, have a good day/evening/night !

Hello, and welcome!! 💌 You absolutely nailed the ask — it was clear, thoughtful, and gave me everything I needed to work with! This one leans romantic-crush-adjacent, so you can read it as dating or just tension building — whatever feels right for you. It’s written as a drabble set, with each-reacting separately. Hope you enjoy!

"What Sweet People Don’t Say Out Loud"

Summary: The Saja Boys find out their sunshine might have a darker mind than expected.

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

🧿 Jinu

Jinu finds your writing by accident. You'd left your laptop open to a document titled “Cured By Fire: A Moral Treatise on Manufactured Innocence” while you stepped away to make tea.

He’d only meant to close the screen — honestly. But curiosity got the better of him. The title alone didn’t match the person who giggles at animal memes and says “oopsies” when they trip over a pillow.

A few scrolls in, he forgets about the tea.

The story unravels like a slow-burning reckoning. Government corruption, religious rot, and a protagonist who justifies arson as “a cleansing act in a city that won’t admit it’s already ash.”

When you return, he’s sitting rigidly upright, eyes wide behind his glasses. He looks… lost.

“Everything okay?” “You… wrote this?” “Uh. Yeah. Is it… bad?” “No, no, it’s—” He gestures vaguely. “It’s just… disturbingly good?” He pauses. “How long have you been thinking about the illusion of free will?” “Since middle school.” “Oh. Huh.”

He doesn’t touch his tea for an hour. You catch him rereading the ending later, brows furrowed.

“I think your villain might be right,” he mumbles, almost sheepish. Then softer, like it snuck up on him: “You’re… kind of brilliant.”

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

💪 Abby

You print your story out for him — all 17 pages — and hand it over like it’s fragile. You're smiling nervously, chewing your lip.

“Be nice?” “Always.”

He’s expecting poetry. Something light. Maybe a whimsical fairytale about cats.

What he gets is a psychological thriller about a prison warden who slowly manipulates both inmates and guards into losing track of who’s imprisoned who. The tone is cold. Surgical. Inescapably brilliant.

By the time he finishes, he’s still staring at the final paragraph like it called him out personally.

“...Did you just make me root for a guy who drowns his boss in a koi pond?” “A little bit.” “I’m scared of you. In the best way.”

He sets the story down, still processing.

Then looks at you with open awe.

“You hide this whole part of yourself behind cute sweaters and sunny playlists, huh?” “...Maybe.” “That’s wild. I love it.”

He throws an arm around your shoulder, pulls you into his side, and presses a kiss to your temple like it’s instinct.

“Just remind me not to piss you off too bad. I’d like to stay above water.”

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

📚 Mystery

You hadn’t meant for anyone to read it.

You keep your darker writing tucked away in a leather-bound notebook, usually hidden under your pillow. But Mystery finds it while you’re asleep — not on purpose, just straightening the blankets after you passed out reading.

He flips it open absently. Stops flipping five seconds later.

The story is unlike anything he’s read — a first-person monologue from a vigilante priest who sees sins as carvings, both literal and metaphorical. The prose is lyrical. Unnerving. Devastating.

He reads it in silence, unmoving. The kind of stillness he only slips into when something truly grips him.

When you wake up, you find him sitting on the edge of the bed, notebook in his lap, expression unreadable.

“Did you dream this?” “No... I wrote it a few weeks ago.” “It reads like it hurt.”

You wait for him to laugh. Or be weirded out. But he just closes the notebook gently and places it beside you.

“Everyone sees you as light.” He looks at you. “But you write like someone who understands what darkness actually costs.”

He lies beside you after, shoulder to shoulder, silent. But when he presses his forehead to yours, there’s reverence in it.

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

💋 Romance

It’s open mic night. Romance volunteers to read your piece out loud without looking it over first — he says he wants to be surprised.

He is.

The story is a sleek, cutting piece about a world where people wear masks that reflect their social status — and the one character who dares to shatter their own. It reads like a manifesto in disguise, full of quiet rage and philosophical tension.

By the end, the audience is dead silent. Romance lowers the paper slowly.

“So.” He clears his throat. “This was not about bunnies.” You nod. “And you wrote this?” “Yup.” “This explains… so much.”

Later, once the adrenaline wears off, you find him leaning against the hallway wall backstage, still holding the pages like they’re made of fire.

“You wrote this like a scalpel,” he says. “Soft hands. Sharp intent.” He laughs, shakes his head. “You had me out here baring your philosophical teeth to a full room. I’ve never been prouder.”

He leans in, nose brushing yours.

“Sweet, dangerous, and literary. What a combination.”

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

🔥 Baby

He finds your notebook in his backpack two days after you borrowed it. He flips it open thinking it’s a to-do list or grocery note.

Instead, he finds this:

“They call me innocent because I smile in public. But no one ever asks why the monsters in my stories look like men in suits.”

He stops chewing his gum.

Turns the page.

Keeps reading.

And then, at 2:12 AM, you get this:

baby🖕: wtf baby🖕: ur a menace baby🖕: u write like ur planning a quiet revolution and i’d probably help

When you see him the next morning, he tosses the notebook at you and crosses his arms.

“You have no right being that nice and also writing like this.” “You didn’t like it?” “Are you kidding? I read it three times. I might be in love with your brain.”

He grabs your face, thumb brushing your cheek, gaze intense.

“You’re soft and terrifying. That’s hot.” Then he smirks. “Just don’t ever base a villain on me, okay?”

You don’t answer. You definitely already did.

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

M-List

[dissociativewriter]

Crow Family- A New Friend

Young Luke and Kieran AU, Sylus x nonMC!Reader | fem reader, not proofread | 909 words | based on this idea! | Crow Family masterlist

author’s note: so so excited for the wedding banner (I’m about to start pulling) and ahkdjskfhsmgmd the new update is so cute but omg updating that game is so anxiety inducing for some reason. I wish everyone good luck on their pulls! <3

anyways, i’m going to write some more drabbles/ficlets for this because it’s too damn cute >_< this was so much fun to write, i love little luke and kieran. feel free to send some requests for Crow Family shenanigans! <3

Wrangling a set of six-year old twins was no easy task, Sylus was learning.

Getting Luke and Kieran to come with him to the mall was a feat in itself, but they needed new clothes and Sylus couldn't leave them alone. Call it paranoia, but Sylus didn't trust anyone but himself to take care of the twins. If someone he hired to watch them turned out to be an enemy, well... Sylus would only find out when it was too late.

That was why, when he lost sight of the two little boys in a crowded shop, a panic unlike any other shot through Sylus.

His pace picked up, steps becoming shakier the longer he couldn't find his boys. Sylus backtracked to stores they'd been, shops they'd pointed out. The cookie shop they'd demanded they stop at. The toy store they spent twenty minutes in as the twins tried to decide which ball was bounciest.

No sign of them, and Sylus was beginning to fear the worst.

The boys, meanwhile, were trailing a woman they had seen twice before. The first time, she was leaving the cookie shop as they came in, offering a sweet smile and small wave. When they saw her again, this time a few people in front of them in line for the cash register at a clothing store, they'd only exchanged brief nods before silently slipping away from Sylus's side.

And here they were on a pursuit mission, wondering what the best way to approach the target would be.

Luke took a tentative step forward, reaching to tug on the fabric of your pants. "I like your keychain,” he said, looking up at you with wide eyes.

"Thank you!" You grinned, your own eyes widening as you watched an identical boy walk up next to the one still holding onto your pant leg. You crouched down in front of them, glancing around for a parent. Seeing none, you looked back to the boys, not letting your smile waver. "And what are your names, my loves?"

"I’m Luke!" the first boy announced proudly.

"And I'm Kieran," the second added.

“Well, Luke and Kieran, where are your parents?” you asked.

“We don’t have any parents,” Luke said, tilting his head.

You stared at them, unable to keep the smile plastered on. “Oh…” you mumbled.

“We do have a Sylus, though!” he said cheerfully.

You nodded along. “Right, a Sylus…” You cleared your throat. “Do you know where Sylus is?”

Kieran shook his head. “No idea.”

“Can’t we just come home with you?” Luke grabbed a hold of your hand.

“I don’t know about that,” you chuckled. “How about you stick with me until we can find Sylus, hm?” You smiled, holding onto the boys’ hands.

A few stores down, panic was beginning to settle deep in Sylus’s bones. He’d never been this long without his boys in a public space. He’d never been in the dark about their location.

He hadn’t been this worried about them since the night he took them in.

When he just barely heard, “Can I get the red one?” in a tone he’d recognize even in sleep, Sylus nearly cried out of relief.

Following the voice, he found himself in a candy shop, staring at a young woman holding his two boys by their hands while their tongues turned red and blue from their lollipops.

“Sylus!” They called out in near unison, rushing forwards towards the man as he dropped to his knees, arms wide to hold them.

“I was so worried about you two,” Sylus breathed, pulling them closer against his chest.

“Sorry, Sylus…” Kieran muttered.

“Oh! You have to come meet our new friend!” Luke tugged on Sylus’s hand.

Sylus raised an eyebrow. “New friend?”

“Uh-huh!” Kieran nodded triumphantly. “This is the super nice lady that spent time with us while we waited for you.”

Rising to his full height, Sylus gave you a polite smile. “It seems I should thank you then, miss. I know they can be a lot to deal with.”

You shook your head. “It was really no problem! They’re such sweethearts, really.”

“Can she come with us, Sylus?” Kieran asked.

“I don’t think so, buddy…” Sylus frowned.

“Let her come with us, Sylus! Please? She’s nice and she smells good and she’s pretty and she bought us lollipops!” Luke quickly exclaimed.

“How about this,” you proposed, holding back a giggle. “I’ll give you my phone number, and you can just let me know if you want to meet each other again. I’d be happy to spend more time with you boys.” You smiled.

Sylus nodded hesitantly. “…Alright. Thank you again,” he said, taking the paper with your number on it before grabbing onto the twins.

“Bye-bye!” Luke yelled.

“Bye—!” Kieran called out.

You laughed, waving them off. “Goodbye, my loves!”

An hour later, you received a text from an unknown number.

I can’t thank you enough for taking care of the twins today.

They haven’t stopped talking about you since we left.

You grinned as a picture came through, two little boys proudly showing off their red and blue tongues through toothy grins. You quickly typed back a response.

I’m so glad I got to spend time with them! I hope we can meet again soon :)

Staring at your message, Sylus felt a quiet peace settle in his chest. “Maybe that would be a good idea,” he muttered, a smiling pulling at his lips.

comments and reblogs appreciated and asks open! <3

masterlist

taglist (10/50): @dolledbunnytail @sleepykittyenergy @orbitraiden @coffeedragonhobbyist @plzdonutpercieveme @sylusgworl @webshooterrr9 @animegamerfox @nezuswritingdesk @glitterykingdomangel

[kakusu-shipping]

My silly little white men and their kinda fucked up history <3

Headcanons below the cut

Cyber Era

Spamton

Spamton to me is Trans in the same way Mettaton is Trans, in that Addisons are a Genderless/Sexless species, and thus Spamton is abnormal presenting as a Man

He spends pretty much all his time in this era being horribly anxious and depressed

He never has solid work and is constantly bouncing between odd jobs and helping the other Addisons with their work

He's always wearing some kinda hand-me-down from the other Addisons so nothing he wears fits him

Addisons have this sort of down feather-like soft fabric covering their body, it's full of fiber glass so they have a slight glow to them

He needs glasses So Bad but he doesn't know that

Ramb

As the only Power Strip in Cyber City he's sort of like the Foreman to all other Plug Boys

He's a fantastic union boss, enforcing breaks and vacation days, shifting who's plugged into every day to give them all rest

He doesn't mind his job and he's a good natural leader type it's just a little exausting

In his spare time, the little of it that he has, he learns Mixology from Swatch at a bar near by

When Queen takes over, she takes Swatch with her, closing the little bar near where Ramb works, and cutting off his only real friendship

He COULD go see Swatch at the castle, but he doesn't want to drag his old friend down now that they're in the big time

Big Shot Era

Spamton

The phone calls start, then he meets a man named Mike who acts as his business connection, and suddenly Spamton is making the big bucks like no one ever has

The first thing he does with his new big bucks is find some way to Modify his body

He adds extra joints and flexibility to his hips and chest, along with a LOT of padding, thus his fat tits and ass

He also gets Phalloplasty, said phallo is detachable for convenience, but it makes him feel euphoric so he keeps it on pretty much all the time

He's also experimenting with how tall he can make the soles of his shoes before it looks kinda silly

Bro got himself some Contacts!! He can See!!!

Sometime in this era he decides to tag along with Queen and Swatch to the Dreemurr house hold and meets Tenna, who he's an instant hit with

From then on he's constantly going back and forth between Cyber City and TV World, doing business in both places, along with Mike.

Ramb

Endearingly, this is his Douche Era

In Darkner-lore, Swatch invited Ramb to come along with them and Queen to the Dreemurr house for a live showing of TV Time (In lightner-lore, this is where Kris stole Ramb from the Computer Lab)

The attention he got from Kris was addicting, so he decided to hang around, making himself useful by becoming a "Mike" before mike was a thing

Basically he's like the Show-Runner/Producer/Director type, He makes sure everything stays on schedule and all the lighting/music cues happen on time, like the Mikes do in-game

He's really good at it too thanks to all the work he did leading the Plug Boys back in Cyber City.

And of course in his down time he plays with Kris

The amount of attention Kris gives him starts giving him a bit of an undeserved Ego, and he eventually ends up kind of negging Tenna a bit (kind of playfully, but also sort of truthfully, his intentions don't matter because it really does Get to Tenna)

Which then in turn enforces Tenna fear of being Abandoned, causing him to turn to Spamton to get more modern. He's not like, the ONLY cause for this fear of Tenna's, but he's certainly the most constant reminder of it

He's got this sort of "I know best" mentality now, along with the job position to control the flow of the show. He might be a little mad with power

Because of Kris' influence, Rambs ears start to flop (I imagine Kris is back and forth with playing with Ramb like a doll, and playing with him like a dog would a chew toy. They are Very Dogkin coded)

He also stops wearing shoes, again because of Kris' influence. None of the Dreemurrs where shoes in my mind

Also, Tenna has massive tail insecurity and makes it everyone else's issue, so Ramb keeps his wire tail tied up and tucked in his jumper. Not that he needs it for work anymore anyway

Disaster Era

Spamton

After obtaining the Shadow Crystal from the voice on the phone and seeing "heaven" through it, Spamton starts getting paranoid about the world and people around him

Which is only made worse when the phone tells him of Tenna's eventually demise, and how if he stays around he'll be going down with him

He bolts, abandoning both Tenna and Mike without a word

Out of fear for the prophecy, Spamton starts holing up in his room, hunched over the phone, only ever leaving to drink away the horrors he learns from it, or to go into the basement to pray

Queen, probably well intentioned but honestly who knows, takes him to the Acid pool to relax (against his will), which of course does the opposite

He looses pretty much all his fabric/skin, what little remains, mostly around his face and joints, he picks at till it's all gone

This of course also means loosing all the gender affirming body mods he'd gotten, except for his penis which he's SO scared of loosing he keeps locked away and doesn't wear anymore (not like he's using it after leaving Tenna anyway)

None of his clothes fit him anymore, and sense he's too scared and paranoid to leave his room, he never gets them tailored

His erratic behavior and dwindling profits (sense he's not actively working, just hiding) eventually get him kicked out of the castle, and to where we eventually see him in game

Ramb

Everything stared going down hill after Spamton ran out

Suddenly Ramb's jabs at Tenna were way more meaningful, with more bite to them, and Tenna couldn't stand to hear them anymore

He couldn't exactly Fire Ramb, he was still precious to Kris after all, even if playtime seemed to happen less and less often every day, so instead he demoted him

Ramb use to make drinks for Spamton and Tenna during their meetings, so Tenna decides to put that skill to use and stick him behind the bar

Sense Spamton left Mike behind when he fled, Tenna promotes him to Ramb's old position (which he eventually leaves, putting the "Mikes" we see in game in charge)

Sense he's on his feet all day now, he starts wearing shoes again

He also starts wearing his sleeves rolled up to remind him of better times (his arms are covered in dents from where Kris use to chew at him)

When the Dark Fountain opens Tenna is still so terrified that everything Ramb said was right, that he knows Kris better that Kris likes him better, so he takes away Ramb's ability to handle points at all to prevent him from being useful to Kris, even as a shop keep

At this point Ramb's given in to this new "Whatever Tenna says goes" way of running TV World (which up until Spamton left wasn't fully based on TV), so instead of directly fighting back he sets up the game backstage

He still has that kind of douchey "I know best" attitude, but it's mostly self defense and cope at this point.

At some point he lost his cord tail. I haven't really thought of how or why yet. I want it to have something to do with whoever's giving guys shadow crystals and why Ramb doesn't have one but still Knows Stuff, but the details are fuzzy atm

Or maybe it was Tenna during a meltdown idk I just know it's like kind of a turning moment for him.

[oikawaisincrisis]

Say it back ~ B.K.

Pairing: Bokuto Koutarou x Reader

Summary: what happens when you decide to prank your sweet, dramatic boyfriend by not saying ‘I love you back’.

CW (content warning): nothing really, just dramatic Bokuto and his antics, purely fluffy.

AN: Hi guys! Thanks you for all the love on my other works, it really means a lot 🫶🏻 I’m working on the medieval AU’s that I put on the poll yesterday (they are mostly done, just giving them some finishing touches and I’ll post them in order of most voted). English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry if there’s any mistakes. Hope you enjoy and let me know what you think! :)

Requests are open so feel free to send yours! (you can check the list of characters I write for on my pinned post)

Masterlist

You knew the risk you were taking the moment you thought of it.

Bokuto Koutarou, your boyfriend of two years, was… intense. Emotional. Dramatic, even. You adored him for it though, his heart was too big for his chest, his feelings written all over his face, his love for you loud and warm and endless.

It was why, when you stumbled on a TikTok about pranking your boyfriend by not saying ‘I love you’ back, you’d laughed to yourself. Because if anyone would react spectacularly, it would be Bokuto.

So here you were, curled up on his couch in his apartment on a rainy Saturday afternoon, half-watching some volleyball match he had recorded while scrolling through your phone.

Bokuto sat beside you, legs spread, one of your thighs slung over his lap as if he couldn’t stand not being touching you somehow. Every so often he’d glance down at you and grin, that big, sunbeam smile that made you feel like the luckiest girl alive and mutter something like, “God, you’re cute,” or “How’d I get so lucky, huh?” and your stomach would flutter, as always.

So when the next commercial break rolled around, he leaned back on the couch, stretched, and tugged your phone right out of your hands.

“Hey!” You protested, reaching for it, but he just laughed and tucked it in his hoodie pocket.

“You’re not even watching the game.” He pouted, nuzzling his face into your neck, his hair tickling your jaw. “You’d rather stare at your little screen than me?”

“You are insufferable.” You muttered, though you couldn’t help laughing as you ran your fingers through his hair and he let out a content sigh.

He pressed a loud, exaggerated kiss to your cheek. “But you love me anyway.”

And here was your chance.

You swallowed a smirk and looked back at the screen instead of him. “Hm.”

Bokuto froze against you.

It took a second, but you felt it: his head lifted slightly, his shoulders stiffened, his hands loosened around your waist as if unsure whether they were still welcome.

“Hm?”

You kept your face neutral and adverted your gaze towards the TV screen, pretending to look distracted. “Yeah.”

He blinked at you, brows furrowed. “You didn’t say it back.”

Your pulse quickened, this was already more effective than you thought it’d be. Still, you kept your tone even. “Didn’t say what back?”

“The thing.” He said, waving vaguely at you. “I said I love you. And you said… ‘hm.’”

You finally looked at him and nearly cracked. His golden eyes were wide, a little wounded, like you’d just kicked a puppy.

“Oh.” You said lightly, hiding a smile. “Right. Sorry. Hm.”

His mouth fell open. “Hm?!”

You bit the inside of your cheek and stood up under the pretense of grabbing water from the kitchen. Behind you, you could hear him scramble up from the couch.

“Wait! Hold on!”

You turned halfway, feigning confusion. “What?”

He stood there, arms out like he didn’t know what to do with them, his expression somewhere between panic and offense. “You- you always say it back. You- you say ‘I love you too,’ or ‘I love you more,’ or- or something! Not- ” He mimicked you poorly. “‘Hm!’”

You opened the fridge, ducking your head to hide your grin. “We’ve been together a long time, Koutarou. Do I really have to say it every single time?”

“Yes?!” He cried, voice cracking on the word.

Oh, God. You had to press your lips together to keep from laughing outright.

When you closed the fridge and turned back, he was still standing there looking completely flabbergasted.

“Wait…” He said slowly. His eyes narrowed. “You’re not mad at me, are you? Did I- did I do something? Are you mad?”

You sipped your water and gave a little shrug. “Don’t think so.”

He just… stared at you. You could practically see his brain short-circuiting. Then, with sudden determination, he marched up to you and put his hands on your shoulders, bending slightly to peer into your face.

“Okay.” He declared, “I don’t know what I did, but whatever it was, I’m sorry.”

You raised a brow. “For what?”

“For… whatever I did!” His hands dropped to his sides, helpless. “Was it last night? Did I steal all the blankets? Or, um, this morning. Oh! Was it because I finished the last of the cereal?! I’ll go buy more right now- ”

You shook your head, utterly deadpan. “Nope.”

He gasped quietly. “Oh my god. Is there someone else?”

That one made you actually snort. “Koutarou!”

“Well you didn’t say it back!” He defended, throwing his hands up. “That’s like- that’s like- rule number one of dating! Say it back!”

You bit your lip. “Maybe I just don’t feel like saying it right now?”

His jaw dropped, his eyes growing even wider. “Don’t… feel like saying it…?” He repeated, voice faint.

You set your water down and walked back to the couch, settling back down casually. “Mhm.”

For a long moment, he didn’t move. “Okay. Okay. No big deal. You’re just- you’re just messing with me. That’s it. You’re kidding. You’re- you’re pranking me. Ha. Ha-ha.”

You only hummed in reply.

He stared at you for a full ten seconds before dramatically flopping onto the couch, draping himself across your lap like a dying man.

“Baby.” He groaned, burying his face in your stomach. “Don’t do this to me. You can’t just- you can’t just not say it back. It’s cruel. It’s torture. You know I’ll die.”

You idly played with his hair, still keeping your face carefully blank.

“Baby.” He tried again, peeking up at you with big, pitiful eyes. “Please? Just say it? Once? And then you can go back to ignoring me or whatever.”

You gave him a tiny smile and said nothing.

He gasped again, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him there. “Oh my god. I’m being punished. This is what hell feels like. You don’t love me anymore.”

At that, you finally let yourself laugh softly. But Bokuto didn’t even notice. He sat up suddenly, his hair sticking out in all directions, and pointed at you.

“Don’t laugh!” He accused. “This is serious! You can’t just- ” He broke off with another groan and flopped backward dramatically, throwing an arm over his face. “You don’t love me anymore and now I have to become a lonely hermit who lives in the mountains and befriends squirrels because no one else will ever love me again.”

You cracked, at that. You absolutely lost it, doubling over in laughter. Bokuto sat up again, eyes narrowing.

“Wait.”

You tried, and failed, to stop laughing as he stared at you.

“Wait a second….” He said slowly.

You ducked your head, still giggling.

“You little- !” He lunged at you, tackling you back into the couch cushions. You shrieked and laughed as he buried his face in your neck and started tickling your sides mercilessly.

“You’re pranking me?!” He demanded between tickles. “You think this is funny?!”

“Yes!” You gasped out through laughter, squirming under him. “Yes- okay! Stop, stop!”

He finally relented, pulling back just enough to scowl at you, though it was undermined by the faint grin tugging at his lips.

“You’re evil.” He informed you gravely.

Still breathless, you cupped his cheeks and smiled up at him. “But you love me anyway.”

He made a noise of indignation but then leaned down to kiss you hard. all messy affection and dramatic flair.

When he finally pulled back, he glared at you half-heartedly. “You’re lucky you’re cute.” He muttered, pressing another quick kiss to your nose.

You bit back a smile. “You were really about to move to the mountains and befriend squirrels?”

“Yes!” He said indignantly, sitting up and crossing his arms. “What was I supposed to think?! You always say it back! And then you just- didn’t! I thought my world was ending!”

You sat up as well and wrapped your arms around his middle, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat was still fast and his arms instinctively came up to hold you tight.

“I’m sorry.” You murmured, looking up at him sweetly. “You forgive me?”

He looked down at you, still pouting slightly, but you could see the affection in his eyes.

“Say it.” He demanded.

You tilted your head. “Say what?”

“You know what!”

You smiled softly. “I love you, Koutarou.”

His whole face lit up like someone had flipped a switch and all the light came pouring back in.

“I love you too!!” He practically yelled, scooping you up and spinning you around before dropping back onto the couch with you in his lap.

You couldn’t stop laughing as he peppered your face with kisses, mumbling, “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Between each one.

“Okay, okay.” You giggled, kissing his cheek. “I promise.”

But when he finally settled back, arms wrapped tight around you and chin on your shoulder, you could still hear him muttering under his breath.

“‘Hm,’ she says. Unbelievable. Gonna give me a heart attack before I’m thirty…”

You just buried your face in his hoodie and smiled.

Mission accomplished.

Taglist is open so let me know if you want to be added for future works! :)

[neeeooon]

hii! i requested this but i accidentally sent it when ur reqs were closed and im so sorry!! however could u write a popstar! reader x blue lock. like them reacting to a performance or music video? possibly kurona amd isagi?? feel free to ignore this request:D

NO DWW i saw the req but didn’t know who to write for … TY FOR REQUESTING AGAIN 🩵

reacting to your music videos

bf bllk x popstar!reader

kurona ranze

-> cutesie guard dog bf !!

-> he looks quite intimidating with his pointy teeth and bored expressions, but when he comes to you, fans will constantly find kurona waiting in lines to get your merch

-> he doesn’t post much, but when he does, it’s usually in support of you. little “cheer cheer” or “🩷🩷” story texts on your posts, etc. WILL threaten to bite anyone who makes ai content or tries to be rude to you online

-> your fans love him and find him adorably supportive. some even have kurona accounts where they try to spot him in the crowd at your concerts. it’s not really a game, though, because you always find him right away and send him hearts from stage

isagi yoichi

-> loser isagi has such heart eyes for you, and he loves to express his opinions online

-> your music video out at 5 am? he’s in your comment section at 5:00:01 spamming heart-eye emojis and sharing your work all over his instagram, twitter, soccer group chats, etc.

-> don’t get me started on when you win an award or make the billboard top 10 list. he goes insane. like actually. one time he slammed so much, his account got temporarily suspended

-> texts you like a fan. when you reply to his stories he freaks out like “omg!!! i got noticed!!!!” and you and fans have to remind him that he is sharing your bed and heart :)

hiori yo

-> he will go live just to film his reactions to your videos and past performances he missed before you were dating

-> watches your music videos in silence. spends the entire 2-4 minutes just swooning, spinning in his wheely chair, hiding in his hoodie cause like <33 you <333

-> calls himself a critic but then spends the entire time glazing you and fighting any and everyone in the chat who dares to say anything negative about you

-> and when you comment in his chat?? he’s a blushy/shy mess and your fans are on their knees begging you to join his lives. hiori is definitely not opposed <3

[stlllle]

Hello! I would just like to say off the bat that I LOOVE your writing, it makes me giggle and kick my feet whenever I read them.

But anyways, could I request a Yandere Dae-ho x male!reader smut fic?

Basically the reader gets Invited to join gihuns group by dae-ho after he notices that the reader gets kicked out of his team for being seen as the "weaker link". Gradually over time, dae-ho gets more obsessed with the reader to the point he can't stand the reader forming deeper connections/talking with anyone else in the group or just even a small conversation with another player. If it's another player, he'll pull them to the side and blackmail them the best he can within the games in order to get them to stay away from the reader, knowing nobody is going to believe the other players even if they told anyone or the reader due to dae-hos kind and cheerful persona, at some points he'll even purposefully trip those said players in mingle to get them killed.

In hide and seek (better known as keys and knives/the 4th game), dae-ho ends up successfully switching with someone and is a seeker (this should've happened in canon trust). Dae-ho also kills any other players that the reader talked with out of spite, when he starts looking for the reader, he catches another seek attempting to kill the reader and kills the seeker before they could kill the reader

In the end, dae-ho physically and mentally can't take it anymore and confesses everything he feels for the reader and fucks him in one of the rooms, and uses the dead seekers body as a barricade to keep anybody else from getting in? (With consent ofc)

I apologize if this seems messy! I just rarely see any x male reader fics for dae-ho 💔

Mine to the End

--

Pairing: Dae-ho x Male!Reader

Rating: +18 / NSFW

Genre: Yandere, Darkfic, Angst, Smut, Psychological Horror

Warnings: Violence, Obsession, Manipulation, Murder, Non-con themes, Knife play, Blood, Death, NSFW content (MLM), possessive behavior, mental instability.

Word count: ~15k

---

Summary:

In the brutal world of Squid Game, survival comes at a price — and some players are willing to pay it in blood. One lonely player finds himself drawn into the orbit of a seemingly cheerful teammate. But behind that smile hides something far darker, and as the games progress, protection turns to obsession… and there’s no escape once you belong to him.

---

Author’s Note:

Hello! I’m genuinely so happy you enjoy my posts 😃. I really loved your request!

To be honest, I’m not entirely sure how well it turned out (I rewrote and deleted this about ten times lol), but I sincerely hope it meets your expectations 🙂. It was a bit of a challenge for me, since it’s my first time writing a smut scene between men, so I had to do a bit of research… but I truly hope it makes sense and captures what you imagined (and if not — please feel free to tell me!). If you have more ideas, don’t hesitate to send them my way! I’d be so happy to write them for you.

That’s all — enjoy the read 😛✨

__

My requests are open if you’d like to send something else my way 😊

Masterlist –[link]

--

POV: Dae-ho

I’d never really paid attention to him before. I mean… I’d seen him around, sure. Sitting in the corner, hair hanging in his face, those exhausted, scared eyes that screamed he didn’t belong here. One of those players you glance at and think “he won’t make it to the next round.”

I thought that.

And now, I realize how fucking stupid I was.

That night, they kicked him out of his team. A bunch of morons pointing fingers like he was some rotten piece of trash.

“Too weak. He’ll get us all killed.”

“He just stands there shaking.”

“First one to die, for sure.”

I heard it all. Sitting nearby, pretending not to listen. But my eyes never left him. The way he tried to speak up but nobody let him. The way he lowered his head and bit his lip, trying not to cry.

Pathetic. Fragile. Helpless.

Perfect.

When I saw him crouched against the wall, alone, I knew it. That was it. He was for me. Just the right kind. And I could do something about it.

I stood up, adjusted my jacket, and walked over. Wearing that easy, friendly grin — the kind that makes people let their guard down. I was good at this. Damn good.

“Hey,” I called out, stopping in front of him. He looked like he wanted to shrink even more, like I was just another one about to kick him while he was down.

He glanced up at me, those dark, tired, scared eyes. Like he was expecting anything but kindness.

“You… got a team yet?” I asked.

He shook his head, hesitant. Obvious. Of course he didn’t.

“How about you join ours? Got room. Safer that way, yeah?” I flashed my usual wide smile, soft voice. The kind everyone trusted around here.

He hesitated for a moment, then nodded. I saw it in his eyes — a flicker of relief. Predictable.

Easy.

I slung my arm around his shoulders, feeling him flinch a little under my touch. Adorable. Led him back to Gi-hun’s group. Nobody complained — who the hell would? My image was spotless.

From that moment on, he was mine.

---

During the Mingle, he tried making conversation with a couple of them. Idiots. Some even found his anxious little stammers kinda cute. I saw it all from a distance, pretending I didn’t care.

But I cared.

It was only a matter of time before someone crossed a line.

This one girl — I think her number was 271 — got too close. Spent too long. Laughing at his awkward jokes. Touching his arm.

I watched all of it. Pretended I wasn’t looking.

But I was.

That night, when most people were settling down, I went after her. She was digging through some scraps of bread, murmuring with another woman. I slipped up beside her, casual as ever.

“Hey. 271, right?” I whispered.

She glanced at me, wary.

“What?”

I leaned in, my smile in place.

“About 199. Stay away. Friendly advice.”

She frowned.

“You’re fucking crazy. I was just talking to him.”

I smiled wider.

“I know. But… accidents happen, you know? Someone trips in the next game, catches a knife in the gut… I’d be so sad if something like that happened to you.”

Her eyes widened. I gave her shoulder a little pat.

“Take care of yourself, alright?”

And walked away like nothing happened.

And it worked.

Next day, she didn’t even glance his way.

---

The following days, I kept it up. A couple more tried too. There’s always some idiot wanting to play hero or make a friend. But a whispered threat, a little shove in the crowd. People get the message.

Nobody suspected me, of course. Because I was Dae-ho. The nice guy. The friendly one. The protector. The guy everyone liked.

Nobody suspects the one who smiles the most.

Except… he started to notice.

I saw it in his eyes. That confused look, trying to figure out why people suddenly wouldn’t talk to him. Why no one wanted to sit by him. Why even the most harmless conversations died out.

One night, he actually asked me about it.

“H-Hey Dae-ho… d-did you notice that… no one… wants to be around me?”

His voice was soft, dragged out, like he was scared to hear the answer.

I placed my hand on his shoulder.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. This place makes people weird. Everyone’s just trying to survive. It’s not personal. I’m here though, right?” I gave him my easy, reassuring smile.

He hesitated, then nodded. Like a scared little puppy.

God, what a sight.

---

That night, I stayed up watching him sleep.

Even with the grime and exhaustion, his face… it had something beautiful. Something that was mine. And only mine. His messy dark hair falling over his closed eyes, those uneven breaths. Curled up like the world was out to get him.

And it was.

But not me.

I forgave him.

I protected him.

I’d kill for him.

I’d spill blood for him.

First kill, first mess, first body on the floor — all for him.

And when no one else was left, when it was just us… then he’d understand.

He’d be mine.

And I’d be his.

Forever.

POV: Dae-ho

The red marble rolled into my palm, and a wicked grin formed in my chest.

Seeker.

The best fucking draw I could’ve hoped for.

I faked a disappointed sigh for show.

Looked straight at him — Player 199 — holding that little blue marble in his trembling hand.

Eyes wide, chest heaving, lips parted like he was already seconds from crying.

He had no idea what was coming.

I walked over slowly, like a concerned friend.

— "Damn… guess I won’t get to be on your team again." I murmured softly, masking the hunger in my voice. "Take care, alright? For me."

He nodded, and fuck — the way his eyes shimmered with trust and fear at the same time made my cock twitch.

This kid was mine.

The alarm blared, and chaos broke loose.

People running, shoving, screaming.

I grabbed my knife from the table, cold and sharp in my palm.

Today was the day.

—

Two pathetic hiders crouched behind some boxes.

One slash to the throat, and the other barely got out a whimper before I buried my blade in his gut and twisted.

The hot spray of blood on my face calmed me.

But none of them mattered. Only one person did.

That bitch who kept flirting with him the other day?

Found her dead behind some chairs.

I made sure of it.

Pulled her by the hair, knife to her stomach.

— "No one fucking touches him."

Left her bleeding out.

—

I kept moving, but my eyes were hunting for him.

My blood boiled.

Then I heard it.

His voice. That trembling, desperate little cry.

I moved fast.

My pulse pounding in my ears.

And there he was.

A seeker cornering him against the wall, knife raised.

I didn’t think — didn’t hesitate.

I slid my blade into the bastard’s neck from behind.

Blood splattered hot across my hand.

The body hit the floor.

He stood there frozen, shaking, his chest heaving.

Eyes wide, face pale.

Beautiful.

I stepped in, cupped his face. His skin was feverish, wet with sweat and tears.

— "It’s me… it’s okay, I’m here."

He flinched, but didn’t pull away.

I grabbed his hand.

— "Come with me. Now."

He followed.

—

I dragged him into an empty room, door half open, stinking of blood and metal.

A dead seeker’s body slumped by the wall.

I pulled the corpse over and propped it against the door.

He stood there in the middle of the room, trembling like a leaf, chest rising and falling fast.

I was already fucking hard.

That small, fragile frame.

Sweat-soaked hair stuck to his forehead.

His hands trembling.

Perfect.

I stepped closer, footsteps echoing on the grimy floor.

— "Look at you… shaking so bad, and you’re already fucking hard, aren’t you?"

My hand went straight to his crotch, palming the hard length beneath the fabric.

He gasped, trying to pull away.

Pathetic. Innocent. Mine.

— "Don’t lie to me. I know you wanted this. Dreamed about it. Me fucking you so hard you’d forget your name."

I squeezed tighter.

His breath hitched.

I crashed my mouth onto his — a rough, desperate kiss, tongues clashing, teeth scraping.

I bit his lower lip, hard enough to draw blood, and he whimpered.

I pinned his wrists above his head with one hand and ripped his shirt open.

Sweaty, pale skin marked with bruises and dirt.

Ran my hands down his chest, leaving red trails.

I let go of his hands only to rip open his pants and yank them down with his briefs.

His cock was hard, leaking at the tip.

I dropped to my knees, licking a long stripe up the shaft.

He trembled, a broken moan escaping.

I swallowed him whole.

Throat-deep.

His hands gripped my hair, half trying to pull away, half pushing me down.

The taste of him, the heat, the faint taste of sweat and fear — made my cock ache.

I sucked hard, taking him to the back of my throat, letting him gag a little.

Pulled off with a wet pop, grinning up at him.

Dropped my own pants.

My cock was rock-hard, veined, dripping pre-cum.

I spun him around, shoved him face-first against the wall.

His body fit perfectly in my hands. Small. Easy to control.

I spread his ass cheeks, running my fingers over his tight entrance.

Spit in my palm and rubbed it over.

— "It’s happening. Right now."

I pressed the head of my cock against his hole.

He let out a strangled cry.

— "W-wait, Dae-ho, it— it hurts—"

I grabbed his hips, thrusting in.

The tight heat gripped me like a fucking vice.

He screamed.

— "You’ll get used to it. You’ll love it."

I stayed still for a second, feeling him clench around me.

Then started moving.

Hard. Deep. Ruthless.

Skin slapping.

His cries mixing with my grunts.

Each thrust made his ass bounce against me, his cock smearing pre-cum on the wall.

I grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanked his head back.

— "Say you’re mine. Say it."

He sobbed.

— "I-I’m yours…"

I fucked him deeper, harder.

Pulled him off the wall, bent him over an old table.

Spread his legs, lined up, and slammed back inside.

The table creaked, his body jerking with every thrust.

One hand gripped his hips, the other stroked his leaking cock.

He was rock-hard. Dripping.

— "Look at this — moaning like a whore while I destroy you."

He whimpered, head lolling to the side.

I bit down on his sweaty neck, marking him.

Came deep inside him.

Filling him to the brim.

But I wasn’t done.

Flipped him onto his back on the table.

Missionary.

Pushed back inside, staring straight into his dazed, teary eyes.

One hand wrapped around his throat, the other jerking him off.

— "Cum for me. Now. I wanna see your face when you lose it."

He cried out, legs shaking, and came all over his chest.

Hot, thick ropes of cum.

I fucked him through it, milking every last drop before releasing inside him again.

Stayed buried deep, panting.

Ran my hand over his face, licking his cum off his chest.

— "Now you’re mine. And no one else will ever fucking have you."

He stared up at me, ruined, trembling, crying, still hard.

Exactly how I wanted him.

Reader's POV

My entire body ached. Every muscle throbbed, and the warm sensation running down my legs made me want to disappear. I was lying on that old, dirty table, the rough wood scraping against my back, while the suffocating air of that cramped room reeked of blood, sweat, and semen.

Dae-ho stood there, right in front of me. His smile… it was wrong. Too wide, his eyes shining in a way that made my stomach twist. And yet… some broken, miserable part of me felt grateful he had saved me. No matter how fucked up that was.

My head spun. I could barely process what had just happened. My body trembled, not just from exhaustion or physical pain, but from fear. A suffocating fear that made it hard to breathe.

He walked toward me, every step pounding in my chest like a thunderclap. I instinctively inched toward the edge of the table, desperate to get away, to flee, but there was nowhere to go.

"You were perfect, you know that?" he murmured, his fingers brushing my face, wiping away a bead of sweat rolling down my temple. "So beautiful… completely ruined by me. I always knew we’d end up like this."

My stomach turned. I didn’t know if I wanted to cry, scream, or beg. The desperate will to live mixed with the horror of what he’d done… of what I’d let happen.

"D-Dae-ho… this… this isn’t right…" my voice came out weak, hoarse, barely a whisper.

His grin widened even more.

"Not right? Who decides what’s right here? I saved you. I protected you when no one else wanted you. When everyone else turned their backs. You should be thanking me on your knees, fuck."

He took another step, and my legs threatened to give out.

My eyes darted toward the door blocked by the dead seeker’s body. The metallic stench made my head spin. I wanted to vomit. Wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

"I… I’m grateful… you…" I swallowed hard, trying to buy time. "You don’t… you don’t have to do this…"

He laughed, but it wasn’t a normal laugh. It was low, rough, almost childlike in how it took pleasure in my misery.

"But I do." He picked up the bloodstained knife from the floor, spinning it between his fingers. "Because if you’re not mine… you won’t be anyone’s."

My heart raced. That cold fear crawled up my spine. My hands were sweating, my legs weak. I knew what was coming. I finally understood there was no way out.

"Dae-ho… please…" I tried, tears already stinging my eyes.

He came closer and cupped my sweaty, dirty face. His thumb wiped away a tear rolling down.

"Shhh… don’t cry, baby… I’m going to take care of you. Always." He leaned in and kissed my forehead. "I just have to make sure no one else ever gets that chance."

I tried to gather my strength, but my body was limp. He pushed me back onto the table easily.

"I love you, you know that? Since day one. When I saw you there, all alone, scared, I knew you were mine. That no one else could ever touch you. And I waited… waited for the right moment." He sighed, staring at the blade. "And now you’re mine. Mine forever."

The knife gleamed under the dim light.

"D-Dae-ho, please…" my voice cracked.

He took a deep breath, like he was trying to calm himself.

"It’ll be quick, I promise." He said, and then drove the blade into my abdomen.

The pain was unbearable. A burning, slicing heat spread through my body. I screamed, the sound muffled by my own blood.

"I told you you’re mine… only mine…" he muttered, plunging the knife again. And again. Every stab tearing a piece of me away.

My eyes filled with tears, my vision blurring. I felt the warmth of my own blood coating my skin with every move he made.

My body instinctively writhed, but I was too weak.

His face was the last thing I saw. Those eyes shining with pleasure. That deranged grin. His ragged breathing.

My consciousness began to fade. The world around me turning into nothing but sound and blurred light. I thought of when it all started, the games, the nervous laughs, the foolish hope of surviving… and now here.

Dae-ho leaned down, kissing my bloodstained lips.

"Forever mine…" he whispered.

My last strength drained away, and then everything went dark.

[Extra Scene — After the Murder | Dae-ho’s POV]

The silence after the final stab was louder than any scream.

I stood there, knife still in my hand, warm blood running down my fingers, staring at that small, lifeless body on the table. He looked beautiful. So perfect like that… pale skin stained with red, chest rising and falling until it didn’t anymore.

His face, even smeared with blood and dried tears, still looked peaceful. Finally calm.

I stepped closer and brushed my fingers along his cold cheek.

“Now you’re only mine…” I whispered, a deranged smile curling my lips.

Leaning in, I kissed his lifeless lips, tasting the metallic mix of blood and spit. The taste of my victory.

The room reeked. Blood. Sweat. Fear. And yet… it was the most beautiful place in the world to me in that moment. I wanted to freeze time right here. Wanted to stay with him forever.

I pushed a few strands of hair off his sweaty forehead. He’d looked so beautiful moaning my name… and now, even dead, he was still perfect.

“I told you,” I murmured. “I told you no one else was ever going to have you. Not touch you. Not even look at you.”

My breathing was heavy, my chest rising and falling quickly, blood-soaked fingers trembling. My heart pounded in my chest, not with fear or guilt, but with something worse. Pleasure. Peace.

I sat beside his body, just watching. Not missing a detail. The marks I left, the scratches on his skin, the stains, the exhausted expression.

For a brief second, I pointed the knife at myself. Thought, “If I kill myself now, I’ll stay with him here.” But no. I still had things to do. There were people who got too close to him. I had to finish what I started. Clean this game.

But I’d come back. I’d always come back for him.

Standing up, I carefully arranged his body on the table, like tucking someone in for sleep. I gave him one last kiss on the forehead.

“Wait for me, baby… I’ll be back. I promise.”

I grabbed the knife, wiped the blood off my hands on my uniform, and gave one final look at his face… leaving the room filled with death behind me, his body untouched by anyone else.

Forever mine.

[End]

[0-memento-mori-0]

So how come I haven’t seen anybody talking about Wade fixing Logan’s ruined X-Man Uniform after the movie ??

Come on, he talks about how important that suit was to him as his only reminder of his friends, and the sleeves are ruined, the top is ripped off, and it’s covered in blood by the end of the movie. BUT, who had an entire montage of making his iconic suit and fine tuning it in the first movie ? Who knows how to sew, fix, and make a super suit actually DECENTLY and knows to remove blood stains with seltzer water and lemon??

What I’m saying is, Logan being scared Wade will ruin what tiny scraps he has left of that suit when Wade offers to fix it, and he actually fixes it perfectly, complete with the iconic sleeveless version because “those guns need to be free to breathe for the good of the world, we just saved it, I’m not covering those and risking it all again”

Play with that as you please

[francesderwent]

so for the purposes of this discussion I’m going to assume that we all agree that it’s not a desirable state of affairs to be sexually intimate with a whole bunch of people just for fun. I know not everybody agrees with that *gestures vaguely to the sexual revolution and the hookup culture*, but if I have to prove that first then that’s going to take forever and I don’t think it’s what we’re talking about anyway.

we’re going to assume that our interlocutor believes sex and love do have something to do with each other, and wants to know why we shouldn’t treat sex the way that most television shows these days treat sex: like kissing on the lips. you’re in love with your boyfriend so you kiss him on the lips. and then you might break up, and fall in love again and kiss a new boyfriend on the lips. in certain circumstances you might kiss someone on the lips who isn’t your boyfriend, like if they save your life or you go through a bonding experience together or something. and eventually you get married to someone and you only kiss that guy on the lips from then on, but you have kissed a few other guys before and it’s not a big deal or a scandal at all. why, is the question, can’t we treat sex exactly the same?

so, point one is: because the whole physical world is infused with symbolic meaning, the human body speaks a language of its own. we don’t assign meanings to the “words”, they’re inherent and universal. you can’t twist bodily actions to mean whatever you want them to mean, they’re going to go on saying what they really mean whether you want them to or not. a slap does not mean love; its violence is not and cannot be loving. a kiss does not mean hatred; Judas betraying Jesus with a kiss adds an extra layer of hurt to his deception.

point two: in order to exist happily and healthily in the world, we need to speak the truth with our bodies, and not try to twist the language of the body into saying something it isn’t. when we lie with the body, the whole real world we live in resists us. we’re trying to impose our own meaning by our own will onto something that already has its own meaning, given it by God, and quite frankly, God’s meaning is stronger and it’s gonna win. think of this as living in a state of denial—even if you can stay in your denial for a little while, eventually, reality will have its say, it will make itself felt. more on this later.

point three: sex, as a word in the language of the body, is saying something other than just “I feel love for you”—i.e. it is saying something different than a kiss. how do we know this? first of all, sex causes bonding on a chemical level in a way that kissing absolutely does not! secondly, sex creates children—and therefore exists on a very different level than kissing! both of these differences point to this: kissing as a “word” speaks about love as desire, when it says “I feel love for you” it’s mostly saying “I want you”. sex as a word speaks something more, it says something in itself about a commitment which is forever. what sex is saying is “I give all of myself to you and I receive all of you in return, we belong to each other forever”.

point four: the only circumstances in which sex can be spoken truly is marriage. sex speaks in the body the same total commitment that is made in the marriage vows, reiterating and confirming the mutual gift that has already been given.

this is sort of where it gets tricky (and where I think TOB speakers often fail their listeners), because when you’re dating somebody, if you’re not being disingenuous and stringing them along until you find something better, you do hope that you’ll be together forever. and so the more you fall in love with someone, the more you naturally (and appropriately, I’d say!) want to have sex with them, because you want to be able to express your longing for that forever. you don’t intend to lie with your body! you want to say what sex says and make it true in the saying of it!

I think the usual Christian response is to say “ah yes, but that forever isn’t yet promised or guaranteed, so you don’t know if it’s ever going to come”. and as much as the person currently head-over-heels in love doesn’t want to hear it, unfortunately it is very real. for every Jack who meets his first serious girlfriend in college, has sex with her because he really wants them to be together forever, and then marries her six years later having had sex with no one but her, there’s just as many (if not more) Jill’s who meets her first serious boyfriend in high school, has sex with him because she really wants them to be together forever, then is blindsided by a breakup and goes on to repeat the pattern with several more boyfriends before she finally finds the “one”. it’s a tragically common story, so common that the trauma of it is becoming harder to recognize. but it causes severe emotional and psychological harm, to give all of yourself to a person hoping for the gift to be received, only to have your whole self be rejected, or trivialized, or used and discarded. it takes tremendous courage for Jill to pick herself up and believe in love again, and often she’s disappointed over and over again. even when the “one” does appear and the gift is finally received completely in marriage, the scars don’t fade completely. I think a lot of people who get their happy ending end up experiencing that phenomenon of psychological backdraft, all their old sexual traumas bubbling up again now that they finally have a healthy sexual experience to know how it should have been. they then have to spend the honeymoon years of their marriage healing from everything that came before. so the usual Christian guidance is “you don’t want to go into marriage with all that baggage, so better to wait just to make sure”.

and while I do think avoiding trauma is generally a good idea, I think this is a little bit of a cop-out. for one thing, it kind of seems to be saying “don’t have sex with your significant other, because you don’t really know if they’re telling the truth about wanting to marry you”—that is, it’s encouraging you to not trust your partner. sure (she said sarcastically), that sounds healthy!! there has to be a better, more loving reason not to have sex with a significant other before marriage. and it’s this: if the Church’s teaching about sex and marriage are really true, then it is just as wrong for Jack to have sex with his girlfriend before marriage as it is for Jill to have sex with her boyfriend—Jack’s eventual marriage to his girlfriend doesn’t retroactively validate every instance of premarital sex! and if Jack having sex with his girlfriend before they got married is wrong, then what we’re saying is it must be hurting them. even though their love story ended happily! even though they did end up giving and receiving the gift of self completely! getting things “out of order” is hurting them and making them unhappy. this is the burden of proof, and it’s much harder than proving Jill’s sexual history is hurting her. and yet if we believe Church teaching, it must be true!

so we return at last to my above point two—in order to exist happily and healthily in the world, we need to speak the truth with our bodies, and not try to twist the language of the body into saying something it isn’t. and here’s the kicker: we are not God. we cannot make a thing so just by saying it. so no matter how understandable it is to try to create a relationship that will last forever by speaking forever with our bodies, it simply does not work that way. when the word is spoken out of the context which makes it true (i.e. when you have sex outside of marriage), it does not and cannot bring that whole context into being—it doesn’t create a vow of fidelity, it doesn’t create a shared life, it doesn’t create a public commitment. someone can have sex with you and then break up with you, someone can have sex with you and then get in their car and go home leaving you there by yourself to sleep alone, someone can have sex with you and then pretend you don’t exist. the sex, on its own, doesn’t create a slippery slope that leads swiftly and inevitably to marriage. it just creates tension between the life you actually have, unmarried, and the unreal life you’re pretending you have in sleeping with one another. it makes all those parts of yourselves that you haven’t shared stand out more strongly, making you feel every little separation as a wound. and instead of creating a sense of peace and security, it leads to a kind of desperate grasping feeling—“we’re acting like us being together forever is a done deal, but it’s not a done deal, it’s not set in stone, so what can I do to make it work, how can I control this, how can I make him want me enough to stay?” even if in the end Jack proposes, the foundation of the relationship has been damaged. it can be healed, and rebuilt! but it is not good for a relationship to develop under that kind of strain. not good, and not necessary.

what’s the alternative? when you wait to have sex until marriage, your dating years with a partner can be years of expectantly looking forward in hope, while also living in the moment. you are not married yet—so your relationship is not set in stone, you’re still deciding what kind of relationship you want to have together, which means it can still get better and better as you build it. talk a LOT! talk about everything! talk about your pasts, talk about your dreams for the future! work out your issues in the present instead of covering them over with physical affection! because you’re not burdened by the anxious desperation to turn a lie into the truth, you will be able to see more clearly what the strengths and the weaknesses of the relationship really are, which allows you to address your weaknesses and work on them! and because you’re not pretending like you’re already totally committed, the prospect of actually making a total commitment will be more and more attractive. when you’re not trying to act like you’re married already, it’s so much easier to have open conversations about the future you want together, and easier to know when it’s time right now to take steps to get there. and that’s exciting! it’s fun to have stuff to look forward to, it’s fun to make plans together!

it’s not a better way because there’s less collateral damage, because you’re hedging your bets playing it safe just in case something goes wrong. it’s a better way because it’s all about letting love develop in its own time, according to its own internal laws. I’m not gonna say “guard your heart”, as if your significant other was an enemy at the gates. instead, “guard your relationship”, because it’s worth protecting, worth giving every chance to be as happy as it can be.

[bbuzz28]

Memories

Old man Fiddlestan, my beloved-and what's this? It could be semi-canon compliant :O ?!?! Woof- this is one of the saddest things I have ever written. I know some of you gremlins (affectionate) love that sort of thing, but I don't. I like really really don't. This is my comfort ship, so I don't even know where this came from other than trying to figure out how they *could* work in canon. Truthfully though, I prefer my Fiddlestan heavy on the comfort when it comes to the "hurt/comfort" genre. This is my only “angsty” (i.e. no immediate happy ending) Notes-app fics, so don't get used to this level of sad from me lol.

“Stan?” an oddly familiar voice called. Mr. Mystery, Stan Pines, glanced up from the flyers he was organizing and found that Old Man McGucket stood in the doorway of his front door. The last tour of the day had just left, it was dinnertime, and he was exhausted. Stan rolled his eyes as he unfurled his tie, wishing Soos was still there to escort the crazy old man off his property. No matter what he did, the old hillbilly always managed to find his way back to the Shack. “Sweet Moses McSuckit, what are you doing in here? Shoo, scat, or whateva will get rid of ya.” Hearing no movement, he looked at the man again and found he was standing erect. His blue eyes were the clearest he had seen them in no less than a decade.

          Wait, what did he call- oh. Oh no.

“Stan…ley? Did I…did I do somethin’ wrong?” the other man asked, his hands twisted in knots in front of him. Memories flashed through Stan’s mind; Ford falling through the portal, Fiddleford finding him passed out in the lab, working together to bring Ford home again…being together. Being happy. They had been happy, if just for a little while, hadn’t they?

Then there was the cult, and his discovery of the damn memory gun that had finally ruined everything they ever built. He took a hesitant step forward, a thousand thoughts roaring in his mind at once. “Fidds? Wha-what do you remember?” A bandaged hand snaked up and rubbed over the faded scar on the side of his head “I…don’t rightly know. Did we…I think we had a fight? I just woke up in the…in the dump. N’ I don’t have any shoes. Do ya know why my arm is in a cast?” Fiddleford looked so lost.

Stan knew in his heart that all of this was fleeting- “clarity” would hit Fiddleford every few years after he had finally wiped his mind of himself. Almost like his brain was trying to jumpstart itself back together. The first time they thought it was a miracle but…it didn’t last. It just started a trend that would follow them both for the next almost thirty years. Fiddleford would seemingly “wake up” and be lucid for a few weeks in the beginning, then eventually only a matter of days. It had been so long since the last time that Stan would wager, they only had maybe a few hours together if he was lucky.

The last time Fiddleford was himself…they had fought. Stanley thought he had figured the only way Fiddleford could stay; he needed to remember. Remember everything he had ever forgotten. At the time, Fiddleford had been unwilling to try. He didn’t think he could handle it; he knew he had forgotten what he had for a reason.

Stanley had gotten as close to begging as he ever had in his life since surviving Tijuanna, and when it had no effect…Stanley had told Fiddleford to leave and never come back. He had left that night, and by the next day he had faded away again. After a while, Stan thought his last words had been the final nail in the coffin that was Fiddleford’s mind. He carried that weight along with every other mistake he had ever made. But here he was. Fiddleford. His Fiddleford.

He took a deep breath before he opened his arms up. “Hey, don’t worry, it doesn’t matter. I’m right here.” Fiddleford rushed through the doorway, melting into Stanley’s open arms. “I went away again, didn’t I?” Stan could feel Fiddleford’s tears soaking into his chest, his own whispering at the edges of his eyes. Yes, and you will leave again. You will leave me and I will be alone all over again, you fucking asshole. “Hey cowboy, didn’t I just say not t’ worry about any a’ that? You’re here now, n' that’s what matters. You’re…you’re home.” A haggard laugh vibrated through the smaller man’s chest into Stanley’s own. “I know I keep tellin’ ya, tellin’ me not t’ worry is like” “…tellin’ a fish t’ stop swimmin’; I know Fidds, I know.” Fuck was really the only conscious thought that went through his head as he held his one-time lover. He couldn’t believe he was doing this, again.

Fiddleford looked up, eyes wide and searching Stan’s face. “How long do ya think we have?” Stan shook his head, unwilling to lie even if it eventually wouldn’t matter because he wouldn’t remember. You’ve always been the only person I couldn’t lie to. “I dunno, it’s been…a while. Probably not very long.” Fiddleford closed his eyes before he said “I need ya t’ know somethin’, Stanley.” Stan started to shake his head. “Fidds, you don’t have t-” The look on the other man’s face shut Stan right up-he had always had that ability. Stan wished he didn’t miss it as much as he did. “I need ya to know that even when I’m not here…I miss you. The part of me that’s somewhere in here-” A weathered hand tapped the side of his head to emphasize his point “ misses you. I’m just so sorry, Stanley. Sorry that I’m a coward. I’m sorry that I’m not strong enough to be here all the time…but I’ll never stop tryin’. I’ll always try n’ come home to ya.”

Stan thought of the thousands of times he had chased Old Man McGucket, the neat little character that Stan had to compartmentalize his Fiddleford into when he wasn’t himself, out of the Shack. How many times he had found him curled up like a cat on the back porch. How every time they “met”, McGucket would say how nice Stan was or how good he felt to be around him “for some reason.” How many odds and ends McGucket would gift Stan from the dump for exhibits at the Mystery Shack with a large smile and nothing substantial behind his eyes.

It would be so much easier if he would stop trying to come back. Maybe the hole in Stan’s heart the size of the sweet, certifiably insane man would scab over. How many times had Stanley mourned him? How many times was he willing to hurt himself? They were now nearing their sixties, how long was he really willing to do this song and dance?

What’s one more time? he softly thought, his hand coming up to tenderly cup the grizzled face of Fiddleford Hadron McGucket. Mad scientist, friend, and unfortunately for them both…the love of his life.

“I miss you too, Fidds.”

[saltynsassy31]

*drags myself through the floor and slams this down*

I present to you

FULLMETAL BARTENDERS AVIAN AU

Divine Nugget Au

(Rant as to why I chose the White-throated Needletail as Blurr's bird and some minor AU lore under the cut)

And that's not all! It comes with a FULL FLEDGED COMIC!!!!!

I spent a whole fucking week on this

I haven't done a comic in 4 years now, I can't believe this is my come-back XD. Though, on that note, know that I probably won't be pumping out any more comics - not any time soon, at least. But I do got more stuff planned for this au! If you ask about it, I'll 100% rant about it LOL

Tw// ⚠️mild gore in the 3rd panel⚠️

While exploring the woods with his team, Swerve had an unfortunate encounter with a crazed hunter. In an attempt to escape, he got injured, but it seems he wasn't the only one caught in the crossfire...

.

.

Okay

So when you look up what the fastest bird in the world is, Google with show the Peregrin Falcom

But there's a catch

The Peregrine is only fast when diving

When it dives to catch its prey, it can go up to 389km/h

Which yeah, pretty fast

But when casually flying, it only goes up to 120 iirc

The Needle Tail?

It can go up to 170km/h

Some have even recorded going over 300! (Close to the Falcon's dive, I believe)

Additionally, these birds only fly. Their habitat is literally listed as "the air," and some even believe they sleep while flying! They only ever land to brood and mate, and then they're off again. Their legs are so short that, if they ground, they can't fly again because it doesn't give enough room to flap their wings.

It fits Blurr perfectly!

It also has a blue-ish colour pattern I can work with lol (it's green, but it looks blue, lol)

Though, also, he isn't 100% like the Needle Tail, just based off of it. I still want avians to be sorta their own species and doesn't have to be exactly like their bird counterparts cuz they aren't them, they're their own thing.

That said, Blurr is one of the shortest from Avians population, still.

They're pretty big.

Another trivial detail of the design!

I was stuck between having his arms be his wings or have them be separate

Until I saw a drawing where they had both, and I realised, "Wait, why isn't that done more often! That's so cool!"

So that's sorta what I did

It's mainly to catch small prey when grounded and to stay better perched up on trees since they're much bigger and having extra fingers helps a lot. Or when they're climbing against a tree to pick up fruits, it gives them an extra boost and can better hang from it

But they're pretty much useless besides that lol

Just neat lil design choice

Other lore stuff. The time in which the au takes place is vaguely modern? But with fantasy aspects? I still haven't decided lol

Technology exists, but not in the way we have it sort of deal, idk, this au is pretty bare bones right now, so go wild with it XD I don't mind it, I love brainstorming it with people. I know this au isn't as big or complex as some others out there, but it's fun, and I hope yall like it too fjsjajaj

[some-stars]

for every pairing i've shipped since 2013, i've come up with an ASMR AU, and now it's poolverine's turn! so, mundane AU probably (it would still work if they had powers but it would have to not have the social context of mutants in the marvel universe), and wade is an ASMRtist who doesn't show his face and wears long sleeves and gloves, and his main thing is talking/whispering while doing hand motions or "touching" the camera, but all of his videos are funny and usually extremely weird. like some of them are roleplays and some of them are just him but they all have the vibe of that ASMRtist who made the roleplay where she's a nun caring for you as you die of the plague. he has a fairly small but devoted following and makes like $50k a year on patreon.

meanwhile i haven't completely figured out logan's situation in this AU but someone--probably the AU version of one of his many teenage daughters--sends him a link to a different, more conventional ASMR video because he sees them watching one and asks what it is. and he watches about two minutes of this video where a pretty girl in her early 20s pretends to gently take care of him and whisper in his ear and gets so incredibly squicked, and he's about to close the window when one of the thumbnails in the sidebar catches his eye and he clicks on it and it's wade's channel.

and for some reason he can't understand, this guy is so soothing to him--he's not looking at logan, which helps a lot, and he's unexpectedly funny and weird and the way his hands move actually gives logan tingles, which he'd started to think was just something people made up to excuse their weird fetish. so logan subscribes, and watches every video, and starts commenting, and eventually joins the patreon, and of course wade on his end is totally falling for this guy who he only knows thru his comments (and then his extremely taciturn presence on wade's patreon discord), and of course it all proceeds from there in ways you can probably predict but are no less delightful for that.

[hollis-art]

is it ok if i use ur art as a lockscreen?? LOVE UR WORK

absolutely, go for it!!!

this goes for lockscreens/backgrounds and personal prints of my art too!

as long as it's for personal use and it's not being publicly displayed anywhere or being used to create a profit, then i'm cool with it!!!

[kakusu-shipping]

The Rising Volt Tacklers as Caregivers

(this post is specifically about the adults, if you wanna know my hcs for Liko, Roy, and Dot or any of the Pokemon of the crew as CGs or Regressors feel free to ask)

Friede is a very adaptable Caregiver. Whatever kind of little you are, he can match. He's best when winging it, so not much for schedules. He's surprisingly a big stickler for rules, like no baby on the top deck unsupervised, because those kinds of things are there to keep you Safe. When not with the little he's a massive worry wort, you're constantly on his mind even when left with someone else. He's just concerned you're not having a good time. Sensitive babies make him anxious, he desperately wants to avoid making them cry but.. He can be a lot.

Murdock loves a little he can hold on his hip. He loves to cook with and for littles, watch them eat, clean them up if they make a mess. He'll experiment and try all sorts of things for you if you're a picky eater, anything for his baby. This man has baby fever like you wouldn't believe. Ten THOUSAND photos of his baby on his rotom phone, at least. He's who Friede goes to if he makes the baby cry on accident, because he is a master of stopping water works. He's the best there is. I think the only kind of little he'd struggle with is someone who's grumpy or fussy no matter what, mostly because he'd take it very personally and be very broken up about it, worried about being a bad caregiver. He'd go crazy trying to become the perfect CG.

Orla doesn't really know the Dos and Don'ts of babycare. What do you MEAN a baby can't held disassemble an alarm clock? That's what she was doing as a kid! You have to be a very specific kind of little to find Orla's baby activities entertaining, as she completely does her own thing with you along for the ride. Like Murdock she can very easily pick you up, at least, though she's less on her hip and more a piggy back kind of gal. You're at high risk of boo-boos running around with Orla, luckly she always carry's bandages and gives the BEST healing kisses.

Mollie seems like the type who's really awkward around kids under a certain age. She's not a baby person, she does not want to hold the baby she does not want to baby talk the baby, she thinks they're kinda yucky and a pain, no offense. She does better with older kids she could have a conversation with, but even then she's entirely too polite and might snap someone out of littlespace by talking to them like an adult. The ONLY time she's good with a little is when they've regressed while sick. She's a doctor and she takes that role very seriously, so if you need to be baby talked into taking medicine, or blown raspberries while she's taking your temperature, she'll do it, and you might even catch a little genuine smile on her face while she does.

Ludlow is a very go with the flow kind of CG. He does best with a stationary little, a baby having tummy time or someone so sleepy they just can't seem to move. He tells stories in a very soothing voice, and offers the best hugs and comfort on the ship. Though again, he's really only good with a baby willing to sit and stay with him. If you were to get up and start waddling away, he'd follow until the two of you come across someone to take over for him and return to his fishing spot. He also could easily pick you up and hold you on his hip.

[w1ngedv01d]

I'm so so so curious about the scarian possible love story? in this!!! Tell me more please!!!!

Thank you!! ^-^

So the actual emotional plot between Grian and Scar is currently in heavy development, because I have So Many Feelings about this duo (/pos) and I want to make sure to fit in as much of my thoughts on them as possible in, while also making everything make sense narratively ^-^;;

(But if you want an idea of the headspace I've been in while thinking about these two specifically, here's the song I've been listening to on repeat as I think about Them: Born Without A Heart by Faouzia)

In my plot, they're both haphazardly trying to both recreate and process the memories they have of their other selves' relationships, while coming at it from completely different angles, and holding a lot of resentment towards each other based on the half-remembered wrongs done against their counterparts by the other person's counterparts.

They also forget an incredibly important point, which is that those things may have been done by versions of the other person, but the other Trials did happen in... Different Universes. Different Worlds. Those versions of them are alternate iterations of them. Not them exactly!

So Scar isn't processing that just because he has memories of DL!Grian being a cheater doesn't mean that this Grian is a cheater (he isn't! and wouldn't be!). Meanwhile, Grian hasn't connected that just because 3L!Scar betrayed him without warning doesn't inherently mean that this Scar is fickle, or untrustworthy, or any of the nasty things Grian has thought about 3L!Scar when overwhelmed by that hurt so great is passed through dimensions

And all of that, in addition to them trying to prove to themselves that they somehow have value by "getting this person who didn't want them anymore to actually want them, and stay", means that for the first part of all of this, they're going to have a messy, on-again-off-again, chaotic relationship where they're saying the same thing but they just can't hear it

And it will be a gradual shift from that trashfire of a situation to them actually understanding who these versions of Grian and Scar are as people, and settling into a much less chaotic or toxic relationship

They will get there! But the how is slightly in flux ^-^;;

[flowercrowngods]

make me write (please).

hello lovelies it's been a while! i have a tiny pile of wips that i need to get to, so if you want, vote for the one you want me to write and/or choose one and send me an ask (anon or not) that i need to answer with a snippet for it that has to contain at least as many words as there are votes in the poll 🤍

the wips (i'm excluding i'll try. i'll try. from this one)

🌷 bard!eddie/knight!steve part 1 is here, pride & prejudice kinda vibe, misunderstandings & miscommunications, steve is a sweetheart, eddie is too dramatic for his own good, they're gonna kiss in the rain soon

🌷 captain!steve snippet that barely counts as part 1 is here, steve is captain of a ship, eddie is a stranger they fished out of the water (or is he?), i'm not saying pirate au meets time travel au but yes i am kinda saying that

🌷 spooky lighthouse story (rambles in the comments here) lighthouse keeper steve who is good at fixing things and wants to escape his life for a while, thinking he's all alone in the lighthouse that people say is haunted (but he's not)

[thetimelordbatgirl]

New school attendance rules (that are stupid as fuck) being published has me learning people didn't even know that the UK fines people for their kids not being in school unauthorized???