#as the man was literally seeing the red flags by this point

[dyscalcic]

you see, trans people CAN be transphobes. blair white is a great example. she excludes trans people to make herself seem “normal” to conservatives.

your points make sense, but know that even trans people can be transphobic.

blair white herself has MANY transphobic outlooks on life, so of course she will be marked red.

that one trans troll (i forgot her name, she was blonde blue eyed and was popular a few years ago) has very transphobic outlooks on life. she literally called herself a man. she burned down a pride flag. she is transphobic.

however, the post does make actual sense. i use shinigami eyes and it sometimes helps but othertimes it does not. someone who’s very pro trans was literally red marked!! shinigami eyes needs to have some upgrades and automatically make specific channels green marked, or scan a few posts to see if its anti or pro trans content, or even send a photo of someone being anti trans and it being sent to the developers to mark them as anti trans!

there ARE trans people out there that want others dead. the point of the extension isnt *only* cis transphobia. the guide literally said “trans people do not get automatically green marked”.

note that i really do agree with your post, but the first part just doesnt make sense

If someone is trans, they shouldn't be marked by shinigami eyes.

like straight up, no notes, no nothing

"they believe in transandrophobia"

doesn't matter, even if i dont agree or if i dont like that person. doesn't matter

shinigmai eyes are for TRANSPHOBES, full stop. they hate trans people? they're marked red.

An intersex person talking about the struggles of sex and gender and their own issues and calling out perisex people for making wrong claims is NOT transphobic.

A trans masc person complaining about how they're being treated by the community because they have a beard and deep voice, doesn't mean they're a transphobe

Almost every red highlighted trans person i have seen on here hasnt even said anything transphobic either. but because people do not like certain groups in the trans community, it means they MUST mark them and compare them to the people who want me dead because my gender and sex are not alligned.

[narumi-gens]

Triptych | "Fate put us on the same path."

Chisaki Kai x f!Reader

summary: Your life is nothing more than a triptych, a work of art in three parts with each panel depicting a distinct period — a beginning, a middle, an end. And in the triptych that is your life, the central figure has always been Chisaki Kai.

chapter warnings: 18+ minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, yandere, possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, complicated family dynamics, codependency, daddy issues, abandonment issues, reader says "faults" but should really be saying "red flags" lol

notes: this is from a non-chronological series so the parts can be read (mostly) on their own or in any order. someone left the nicest comment on this fic on ao3 and I felt like I needed to update this fic, so this is your regular psa on the importance of leaving comments!

words: 2.2k

SERIES MASTERLIST

minors, blank, and ageless blogs do not like, comment, or reblog

The Middle

You’re having trouble breathing. You’re having literal trouble breathing. 

The shiromuku is so heavy and tied so tightly that it feels like each breath you take requires a monumental effort. There’s an ache forming in your shoulders from the pure weight of it all. You’ve spent so much of your life in kimono that you can put one on blindfolded. But this? This wedding kimono is another beast entirely. 

“It’s a bit tight,” you wince, causing the two women currently in the process of tying the obi around your middle in an extravagant knot to softly titter. 

“I know. It’s all a bit cumbersome,” the older woman in front of you commiserates before smiling at you so kindly that it alleviates your discomfort for a brief moment. “But it’s worth it. You look beautiful, just as every bride should. Your husband is a lucky man.”

You let out a noncommittal hum, which is cut short by a soft grunt when the woman behind you gives your obi a particularly harsh yank. 

“How did the two of you meet?” she asks, trying to distract you from how uncomfortable you feel as they continue to tie you up in beautiful silk. 

“We grew up together,” you reply, deciding the simplest answer is the easiest. 

“Ah, so fate put you both on the same path,” she observes with a soft smile and her words have you suddenly feeling breathless for a reason entirely unrelated to the thick layers of fabric wrapped around you.

“I guess so,” you murmur, but before you can lose yourself in your thoughts, you wince when your obi is given one final tug.

“There we go,” the older attendant behind you declares proudly as she adjusts the obi knot. As difficult as it physically is to do so, you sigh with relief knowing that the fussing is almost over. It’s been over an hour by this point. “All that’s left is the uchikake.”

One of the women lifts up the final and thickest layer that will be worn over your kimono. You reach out to gently trace the beautiful designs embroidered on the white silk. As your finger follows the outline of a crane’s beak, you can’t help the frown that forms on your lips.

“Can we take a break?” you ask and there’s a pause at your unexpected request. 

“O-of course,” the attendant in front of you says as she carefully places the uchikake back in its box before she and the other woman leave the room. 

When you hear the door close behind you, your posture droops as much as it can in such a restrictive kimono. Instinctively, you tug at the collar to try and loosen it slightly at the neck only to immediately worry that you’ve ruined the women’s hard work. 

You turn towards the room’s floor-length mirror and feel a rush of relief when you see that the collar appears untouched. Your eyes then drift to take in your full reflection for the first time and your lips part slightly in surprise.

So much of your life has been dictated by tradition — from the way you were raised to the clothing you had been made to wear to the marriage that your father tried to arrange for you — that the last thing you wanted was a traditional Shinto wedding ceremony. However, as you see how beautiful the shiromuku is, and how elegant you look in it, you’re in awe. 

But the longer you look at yourself, the more reality begins to set back in until the small frown on your face is reflected at you in the mirror. Without the distraction of the two women dressing you in such an elaborate garment, all you’re left with is the image of someone you don’t recognize — or rather the image of a future that you never envisioned for yourself. 

Eventually, the reflection becomes too much and you turn away from it to look out the window into the shrine’s gardens. When you see how dreary the weather is as it continues to rain like it’s been doing all morning, you sigh and rest your forehead against the glass. Your fingertip follows the path of a raindrop as it runs down the window’s surface and you absently wonder if the weather is a poor omen for your marriage. 

Not that an omen would matter now, considering you and Kai have already filed your paperwork and have been legally married for weeks. This ceremony is just that — ceremonial. So you’re not what it is that has you feeling so out of sorts.

Maybe it’s the chaos of the last months. Your mind has been a mess as you’ve tried to navigate your grief for your father, your guilt over not having returned home sooner, your indecisiveness about what you were going to do next, and your conflicting feelings toward marrying Kai.

You hear the door open behind you and brace yourself for the gentle scolding that you’re about to receive from one of the attendants for wrinkling your kimono with your slouched posture. You drop your hand to your side with a soft sigh.

“Can I have just another minute or two?” you ask, not quite ready to bear the weight of the thick uchikake that they’ve come to drape you in. 

But when you look over your shoulder, it’s not the attendants who have entered — it’s Kai. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him in his montsuki haori hakama. While you of course knew what a groom wore during a Shinto ceremony, seeing Kai in the outfit stuns you. With the black haori, matching kimono, and striped hakama, he looks every bit the part of the Hassaikai’s wakagashira. 

He’s always looked good in the suits he wears, but there’s something about seeing him dressed so traditionally that makes your cheeks feel warm. When your gaze finally returns to his face, you’re relieved that he’s chosen to wear a simple black face mask like you’re accustomed to seeing him in rather than the beak-like one that you detest.

As your eyes meet his, you give him a weak smile and turn back to the window. His steps are soft against the tatami as he moves to join you.

“It’s raining,” you needlessly point out with a small frown. 

“Rain washes things clean,” he replies and somehow, the simple statement manages to put you slightly at ease. Silence settles over you both and the longer that it stretches on, the louder you hear the attendant’s words echoing in your head.

“One of the women said something when she was dressing me,” you eventually blurt out. When you hesitate, he gives you a hum to continue. “She said fate put us on the same path.”

Even without looking at him, you can tell that the sentiment pleases him. 

“She’s right. This is where you belong.” It’s such an expected response that you would feel annoyed if your mind wasn’t already so preoccupied.

“With the Hassaikai?” you gently scoff.

“With me,” he’s quick to answer, his firm tone giving you pause. 

You glance at him to find that his attention is already focused on you rather than the view of the garden. The weight of his gaze feels almost as heavy as your shiromuku and when you can no longer meet it, you look back out the window.

“How…” you begin before trailing off. You hesitantly bite your lip as you consider your words. “How do you think Dad will react when he finds out we’re married?”

You try not to linger on how your question is predicated on the optimistic assumption that your father will wake from his coma. When Kai doesn’t immediately answer you, you sigh.

“He’ll probably be happy,” you say dryly. “All that work he did to force me into marrying a yakuza and he got what he wanted in the end.”

An unexpected wave of exhaustion overwhelms you, and you bring a tired hand to your forehead. You’re certain that right now, you’re the antithesis of a blushing bride. 

“I told the old man I would marry you.”

Your hand drops at the sudden admission and when you turn to him with wide eyes, you find that he’s now looking out the window. 

“When he tried to marry you off, marry you away, I told him that you should marry me.” His frown is hidden beneath his mask, but you can see the tension lining his eyes. “But he said no.”

The questions come to you in a flurry. Why did your father turn him down? Why didn’t Kai tell you? How long has he been planning this? Has he been waiting years to marry you? How different would your life be if you had married him? Does any of it really matter now that you are married?

But with all of the questions that your mind is racing with, there’s one that comes to the surface. Is he in love with you? 

You feel stupid for thinking it. It’s a dumb thing for a wife to wonder about her husband, even if the labels are still new. But mostly, the idea of love is something that you’ve never considered of Kai. 

You’re not so naive as to think that his intentions toward you have only ever been chaste or innocent. In fact, innocent is a word you would never use to describe him. He’s spent enough nights in your bed over the years for you to know that he’s attracted to you on at least a physical level. 

Likewise, you’re not blind to his faults. He’s a dangerous man who does violent work. He’s obstinate to a frustrating degree. And his nature has always been possessive — of the Shie Hassakai’s power and reputation, of the territory that he perceives as rightfully theirs, and of you. 

Maybe for him, that is love.

And he’s always watched over you. He’s protected you. He never abandoned you. He kept you from harm. That’s more important than something as ephemeral as love could ever be. 

“What were you going to do? If I ended up married to some other yakuza?” you finally ask. When Kai turns to face you, you’re unsurprised by the dark look in his eyes.

“I would have killed him.” His response is a threat, but there’s no heat or anger in his tone. He tells you his plan to free you from a forced marriage with the same sort of indifference he would if he were telling you the sky is blue. 

You should probably be horrified that he’s talking so easily about murdering someone. But the tears that you can feel beginning to form aren’t from fear. You take a step toward him and close the gap between you before dropping your forehead to his chest. A gloved hand immediately comes up to rest on the back of your neck and keep you close.

“Always looking out for me, huh?” you murmur with a wet laugh, a faint smile tugging at your lips. He gives your neck a reassuring squeeze. 

Ever since you first brought Kai to your father all those years ago, he’d treated him like the son he never had. You had seen him look past Kai’s flaws as easily as you always have. But if his adopted son had openly gone against him to kill the man he intended for you to marry, you don’t know what he would have done. 

He was willing to risk it all to keep you safe. If that isn’t love, then you’re not sure what is — you don’t care what it is. To you, it’s everything. 

You clutch the fabric on his haori in a pitiful attempt to tug him closer. Despite your best efforts, you can feel a tear escape and roll down your cheek. You quickly brush it away with another sniffle.

Once you no longer feel like you’re about to shed any further tears, you lift your head, although his hand on your nape doesn’t let you go far. Slowly, your hand releases its grip on him and you run your palm over the material to smooth over any wrinkles you may have caused.

Your gaze settles on the symbol embroidered over his chest — the Shie Hassaikai’s emblem in place of where a family crest would traditionally be. You carefully trace the white thread.

“You know, it suits you,” you tell him with a soft smile. You glance up at him and nod meaningfully to his haori, the one in the style of the Shie Hassaikai’s kumicho. With an affectionate touch, you then straighten the front of his kimono, although it’s a needless gesture. You then give him a gentle push. “Get out of here. I have to finish getting ready.”

[encyclopediamorbidica]

very deeply interesting that anti-american sentiment sees an uptick because a black man's critique of american politics at the american football game that was entirely subsidized by another black man happened to use american flag imagery without any actual attempt to understand or discuss the nuances of the exploitation of black culture and black bodies that was clearly being discussed using that exact same imagery.

y'all really saw blood red and crip blue being used to form a living flag composed of black bodies and started frothing at the mouth to call anyone who clowned on you a chimpanzee because you missing the point in a Politically Enlightened™ way is clearly more important and correct than the actual people who he was speaking to. y'all saw a black man whose most prominent recent role includes a house slave who goes out of his way to use antiblack violence to maintain the status quo portraying the literal image of american imperialism and telling the black man performing to "follow the rules of the game" and not be "too ghetto" and decided that it was an unironic endorsement of said imperialism. i'm beginning to think you don't actually care about the super bowl or the performance and just think that black people need to either fall into lockstep with you or stay in their "place" at the sidelines of any political movement to only be used as a Nebulous Sufferer Caste that needs your white liberationism to save them huh. g-d forbid we make our own critiques of the nation that sustains itself on our labour and our literal blood, and g-d forbid we do it in a way that isn't an immediate easy to parse finger wagging at the entirety of the american empire on national broadcast television when the one (1) person who had the gall to bring up the genocides in sudan and gaza and stand openly on business was chased out of formation by security, tackled, and held without charge for hours. clearly the only way for black people to do anything you deem effective is to put our lives on the line or else we're just being facetious tricksters, right?

do you actually hear yourself when you speak or do you just shit on your keyboard and post whatever comes out

[thekeithmeister]

Being Trans In Southern Nature

Being a nature freak in the south as a well-passing trans man is a surreal experience. I live in north Georgia in a blue county in the suburbs. But as often as I can, I drive out into the middle of nowhere for hiking, camping, paddle boarding, or other outdoor activities. The drive there, in and of itself, is bizarre. Inside my car I’m blasting “This Is Me” from The Greatest Showman. But outside I’m driving by confederate flags, Trump signs, the Don’t Tread On Me flag, a sea of American Flags, and Christian billboards that literally say “you’re going to hell” with pictures of fire.

I often think if I ever get a flat tire on one of these trips, and anyone ever figures out I’m trans, I’d be hanged or shot. But I haven’t been clocked in years, so I push those kinds of thoughts to the back of my mind. I turn off the country back roads and onto the gravel drive leading up to a nature preserve. Pulling into the dirt parking lot there’s about a dozen other cars. Many have Trump bumper stickers. There’s no bathroom, so no concern about me being beat up for taking a piss. I always go in the woods anyway on these kinds of trips.

A full bladder is a concern for any trans person. But for this kind of trip I always take major precautions. They start back at home. After I eat breakfast and drink my coffee, I wait a full hour before leaving. I pee at least twice. I make damned sure my bladder is completely empty and there’s no chance any liquid is on it’s way there before getting into my car. I just described the kind of place I have to travel through to get to a good hiking trail. And I ain’t stopping. Not for anything. I’d rather pee my pants.

So when I pull into the lot I have my gear with me. A small backpack containing my rolled up hammock, a bottle of water, protein bars, toilet paper and my taser. When hiking, I drink barely enough to fuel my body. And if I do it just right, I don’t have to pee even if I’m out in the park the entire day. I don’t risk it. And if there really is just no choice, I’m going to go way off trail to do it. And I mean not just out of sight of the trail, but so far off the path someone would have to be crazy to come out there and spot me. Those are the kind of precautions I take.

But I just pulled into the parking lot and my dangerous bladder is empty. So no concerns at the moment. Backpack on, I start walking up to the trail head. There’s a sign there with a map of the trails on it. A blonde woman in a bright yellow shirt immediately approaches me.

“Excuse me!” she says. “Can you tell me if this is an easy trail?”

I’m used to this. Every time I go out hiking, people approach me. Everyone is friendly. Everyone smiles. And I think I must have a very approachable face. Or maybe I look experienced. Whatever the reason, complete strangers come up to me many times during any hike.

This is my first time on this trail, but I researched it beforehand, so I can answer her.

“Some of it,” I said. I turn and point at the map. “Make sure to take a right at the first fork. The entire eastern loop is easy. See, it’s marked green. You want to avoid the western loop as that goes straight up the mountain.” I pointed to the red part.

The woman nodded, “I see. And are there a lot of people on this trail?”

“From what I’ve read no. That’s why I came today. The reviews say you see hardly any body.”

“Thank you! You’ve been a great help! You seem like a really nice young man. Enjoy your hike!”

“You too!”

We part ways. I enter the trail head to begin my hike and I wonder the same exact thing I always wonder when I have these encounters. Would that nice lady turn mean and ugly and hate me if she knew I was trans? I think it every single time. There’s no way not to. I drove through Trump land to get here. I know what conservatives think of me. Or at least the idea of me. It’s not hidden. It’s not a secret. Trump has been president for 20 days at the time I’m writing this, and he has already signed 4 anti-trans specific executive orders. He is planning on discharging 15,000 trans military service members, possibly dishonorably and without their benefits. He’s planning on making it illegal for trans people to play sports. And he also wants to make it illegal for us to use a bathroom in a federal facility. He’s trying to make healthcare illegal for trans people under 19 years of age, threatening to throw parents and doctors in jail. And I watched as Trump signed these executive orders in front of a huge, cheering, smiling, clapping, crowd of conservatives.

They hate me. They want me to die. But when they meet me in real life, they all smile. They approach me. Ask me questions. Thank me for helping them. Many, especially older white men, seem to want to give me guidance, like a father figure. When I run into them on the trail, they are quick to tell me, “the river flooded that way so be careful,” or “the fishing is great at this pond! Bring your pole next time!”

I have never met an unfriendly person while hiking or camping. And I cannot help but wonder… what if they knew? What would those smiles turn into?

I choose the most difficult route on purpose to try and get out into nature alone. I want the peace and quiet it gives me. I don’t want to hear anything other than the birds, the wind, and the branches moving together. If I’m working hard enough, then my own blood pumping in my ears. For the first hour this is what I get. And I’m immeasurably happy. It’s early February and it’s 60 degrees on a sunny day. There are no leaves or greenery yet, but I’m smelling the warmth from the earth mix with the cool air. The pine trees give me plenty of green to be happy with.

But soon, as is always the case, the peace is interrupted. I hear voices from the trail ahead break the quiet. They’re loud. And there are many. Anxiety immediately kicks in. A prick of fear I can never quite control. It sounds like a group of men. And raised as a girl, I knew from a woman’s perspective just how dangerous this could turn out to be. Even having been transitioned and living as a man for the past 8 years, that was embedded in me. Possibly forever. But also having lived as a trans man for so long, my fear shifts from the possibility of being raped to being beat up instead. But again… that would only happen if someone clocked me. And that hadn’t happened in years.

I breathe in and calm myself down. I’m aware of the weight of my taser in my back pocket. I reach back and flip off it’s lid. But I leave it hidden for now. I’ve never needed it, and likely never would. After all, I have never met an unfriendly person while hiking or camping.

As the voices draw nearer, I suddenly hear a woman laugh. My fear immediately vanishes. This was a mixed group of hikers. I keep going and crest the ridge. I can see them now. There’s five, three men, and two women. And one person was black and another Asian. I breathed a huge sigh of relief. I always found it interesting just how many other minorities I ran into in the middle of nowhere in the North Georgia Mountains. And how many foreigners for that matter. During this hike, I had run into two separate Germans. Where were they staying? And out of all the places in America they could visit, they chose this tiny trail? But that seemed to be the case almost anywhere I went.

I start passing the group of hikers, and as always, I’m stopped.

“Hi! Nice weather isn’t it?” The lead hiker says.

“Yes it is!” I reply.

“Are we close to the top of the mountain?” One of the women asks me.

“Yes,” I said. “It’s not far. You’re almost there.”

“You hear that honey?” She calls back to a man huffing and puffing as he comes up at the rear. “We’re almost there!”

“Uuugh!” He groans. The woman turns back to me. “Are there really good views at the top?”

“Kinda,” I said. “You have to look through the trees, but it is a good view.”

“Oh great, thank you!”

We part ways. I once again have the same exact thought. All of them were so nice. But how nice would they have been if they’d known?

At the top of the mountain I stop. It had been a tough hike. Steep the entire way. I go off trail a decent distance so no one would see me, find me, or bother me. I set up my hammock where I can be alone. Rocking myself in it, I look out to the view. I can see across two sloping peaks in the distance and it’s really beautiful. But I can’t enjoy it as much as usual. Nature always heals me and puts my mind right. But I’d found out just the day before that the Georgia Legislature had introduced a bill to strip away healthcare from transgender people. It would ban all gender affirming care, even for adults, from anything government or state related.

I was on a private insurance plan from my job, but I didn’t know if my nurse practitioner, who’d been treating me for over 5 years, accepted any government or state funding. If her practice relied on that kind of money, I would be in a lot of trouble. She likely wouldn’t be able to treat me anymore, or risk losing all her funding. Or worse. If treating trans people was illegal, she could potentially be arrested for helping me.

It had taken me years to find someone competent when it came to transgender health. I wouldn’t be able to find someone else. Or rather, I could, but it would likely take years again. And I might be in a situation where I’d be forced to drive out of state. But even then… Trump was targeting blue states, and trying to force them to stop offering healthcare too. So going to a blue state might not have even helped.

I lay in my hammock, wondering what on earth it was I could do. My best friend the day prior had suggested flying to Canada once a year just to get my medication and then coming home. That was a very expensive solution… but one I might have no choice but to consider. Could they even prescribe me a whole years worth of testosterone at a time? I didn’t think so. But maybe I could have it shipped from Canada? How expensive would that be?

I heard a mom shouting at her giggling kids coming up the path just out of sight. They wouldn’t be able to see me where I had set up. So I was free to lay in my hammock and try to fathom what kind of lives this family likely had. How wonderful it must’ve been to not have to worry about where you could legally take a leak, or how you would legally get your medications. That mom didn’t worry about her doctor being thrown in jail. Or if she and her husband would be thrown in jail for getting her kids the proper care they needed. That little family… had no idea that absolute and ruthless hell trans families had to go through.

I wait until I hear them leave. Then wait several minutes more. Then I pack up my hammock and other things and continue down the trail. I’m blissfully alone for another hour or so. But soon I hear voices again. This time it’s a couple: a man and a woman. As they start to approach I assess them. The husband is wearing a shirt with a huge American flag across the front and the Punisher logo on top of that.

I immediately tense up. I knew well enough that the far right wore the Punisher logo. It meant the same exact thing to me as a confederate flag, don’t tread on me flag, christian cross, American flag, or anything else of the like. All of those symbols were the same. And all of them sent the same message. The woman smiles at me as they approach.

“Hi! Have you seen the pond yet?”

“Yes, it’s just up ahead.”

The man doesn’t speak or smile. He barely looks at me. The woman thanks me and they move on.

If they knew, they absolutely would have killed me. I think.

I run into only one other person on the hike, a Korean photographer. We were both lost at the time we met, and his English was difficult to understand. But I made out that he was looking for the trail to the parking lot. I pointed and told him the way I thought it was, but that this was my first time on the trail and wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if he fully understood me. So I just pointed down the trail. After we parted way, I wondered again,

What if he knew? I knew nothing at all about Korean culture. Did they hate trans people too? Or was that just in America?

I wandered for some time, trying to find the right path back. I had 2 hours of daylight left so wasn’t too concerned and my compass said I was heading west, the direction I knew the parking lot was in. So I knew even if I didn’t recognize this part of the trail, I was heading the right way. I stopped by a little stream. Tired, I sat down on the small wooden bridge going across it. Letting my legs dangle over it’s edge and feeling my blood pound in my feet, I took out a protein bar and a bag of apple slices. As I ate my snack, I looked out to the scenery. It was so peaceful and quiet. So quiet in fact that I could close my eyes and listen to the leaves move through the gentle breeze. It was my absolute favorite sound in the entire world. The day was perfect. And it was exactly why I drove so far out of the suburbs to hike in a place like this.

I just wished…

I wished that…

I wished…

[thetimelordbatgirl]

Really love how the mother of Zoey101 Star, Christopher Massey, is trying to defend Dan Schneider with saying blame the parents, when by her own logic, she's taking the blame then for not only Christopher being an abuser but also her other son, Kyle Massey, for being a predator.

[batsplat]

Casey Stoner, Pushing the Limits

GP11:

GP12:

x

[masterhallmark]

Rant incoming

I feel like the problem with a lot of Disney's live action remakes (and arguably Wish) is they're trying to appeal to a crowd that no longer exists, namely the people who used to claim that the Disney Princesses were sexist.

All the interviews tend to include, "Well she's not chasing a MAN anymore" which...almost no one sees the princesses like that, anymore. Virtually NO ONE still believes the princesses are man-chasing sexist caricatures of women.

Cinderella is now hailed as an abuse victim who stayed strong long enough to get help to get out of her situation. Anyone who says she should have saved herself is basically regarded as a victim blamer. And it's very clear in the film she wasn't looking to marry the prince, she just wanted a night off. She was the only one who wasn't in line to meet him. She didn't find out she met the prince until he went looking for her!

Snow White is now hailed for her negotiation skills, ability to calm down after extreme stress (she had a moment of panic and had to cry for a bit, but who wouldn't after finding out The Queen hired someone to kill you?), and ability to take charge of a house of adult men. And again, she was an abuse victim, this time trying to escape ASSASSINATION ATTEMPTS. While she dreamed of her prince, it was secondary to her main goal of SURVIVAL. There are also entire video essays about how Snow White gave hope to people during The Great Depression.

Everyone acknowledges that Ariel wanted to be human BEFORE meeting Eric. We all know she was a nerd hyperfixating on humans, and also standing up to her prejudiced father.

We understand Sleeping Beauty wasn't the main character, the Three Good Fairies were, AND PHILLIP WOULD NEVER HAVE BEATEN MALEFICENT WITHOUT THEM! He literally depended on them! WOMEN SAVED THE DAY! But even then, is it really such a sin for a girl to fantasize about romance and fall for someone with corny pickup lines?

We all understand Jasmine just wanted someone to treat her LIKE A PERSON. She rejected every Prince before Aladdin because they treated her like a prize. So why did they need her to want to be Sultan? How did that make her more feminist when she already wanted to be treated like an equal and have a say in her future? Is it only empowering if you want a career in politics?

We admire that Belle, despite living in a judgemental village, was kind to everyone (even though she found the village life dull), and her story teaches girls that the guy everyone else loves isn't always a good guy. What's sexist about teaching girls about red flags? And she didn't start being nice to The Beast until he started treating her with respect and kindness.

Do I really NEED to defend Mulan or Tiana? I think they speak for themselves.

Rapunzel was yet another abuse victim who just needed a little help to get out of her bad situation. In this case, she also needed to learn that she was an abuse victim, and that what Mother Gothel did WASN'T normal, much like many victims of gaslighting.

And don't get me started on the non-princess animals.

Perdita had a healthy relationship with Pongo to the point she was open to express her pregnancy fears to him, and was ready to TEAR APART Cruella's goons for daring to touch her puppies as well as adopting the other puppies. Like, she was so ferocious the goons mistook her for a hyena! She's basically that "I AM THAT GIRL'S MOTHER!" scene from SpyXFamily if Yor were a dog. She and her husband were a TEAM.....but they made a Cruella live action to turn her into a girlboss?! The literal animal abuser!? THAT'S the woman you wanted to put on a pedestal when Perdita was RIGHT THERE!?

Duchess kept her kittens calm after they had been catnapped and was classy as heck. Nice to everyone regardless of social class during a time period where that was uncommon.

Lady stood up to Tramp when she believed he had abandoned her and didn't really care about her. She found out he was a heartbreaker and was like, "Nuh uh. No. You are not doing that to me! You put me through enough."

Miss Bianca from The Rescuers was IN CHARGE the whole movie, and was willing to risk life and limb to save an innocent child. THAT TINY MOUSE TOOK ON ALLIGATORS! And she picked Bernard to accompany her because he was the only one who wasn't ogling her. And then in the sequel SHE DID IT ALL AGAIN! I wish I were as brave as her.

Like, the public haven't accused these ladies of being sexist caricatures since 2014 (Actresses and actors don't count, they're out of touch like the rest of Hollywood) yet Disney is operating under the assumption that the public still thinks that way, hence all the "sHe'S nOt AfTeR a MaN iN ThIs VeRsIOn" talk.

The live action remakes are trying to attract an audience that doesn't really exist much, anymore, and back when it did exist, was comprised mainly of people who didn't actually watch the films. The Disney princesses are no longer seen as sexist, and feminine qualities are no longer seen as weak or undesirable.

[cinnamqnx]

blue lock men as love island contestants

𓇼 ⋆.˚ 𓆉 𓆝 𓆡⋆.˚ 𓇼

pairings: (separate) sae itoshi, rin itoshi, yoichi isagi, meguru bachira, seishiro nagi, rensuke kunigami, oliver aiku, ryusei shidou x f!reader

sae itoshi

𓇼 i’m so undecided about this man. i feel like he could be either a lover boy or a heartbreaker.

𓇼 like i can see him either coupling up and not even batting an eyelash for a bombshell, or he’s literally getting to know every single bombshell, keeping you constantly on your toes.

𓇼 either way, i can see twitter going crazy once he enters the villa, love island producers knew what they was doing putting the itoshi siblings in the same villa.

𓇼 it’s definitely one sided beef though, he doesn’t entertain his brothers side comments about him during challenges and even tries giving him girl advice on occasions 😭

𓇼 is so unbothered by the challenges, especially the twitter one. this man couldn’t care less about what the public had to say about him or his girl.

𓇼 he always makes sure to be so half assed about them too, never putting in full effort because he thinks they’re ridiculous.

𓇼 i can imagine him telling you to stop embarrassing yourself on tv for a silly challenge.

𓇼 after his clip plays on movie night, he’s genuinely confused why you’re mad about it since it happened 2 weeks ago.

𓇼 you can’t tell whether he’s being manipulative or oblivious.

𓇼 i feel like he’d also be that one boy telling the rest of them that if they’re not exclusive they shouldn’t hold back on getting to know the other girls, ESPECIALLY during casa.

𓇼 doesn’t understand why you think it’s a big deal that he said that since he was still being loyal to you. twitter keeps calling him a red flag.

𓇼 despite everything though, i feel like he’d also be the guy to have your back in any argument you have, but making sure to correct you where you went wrong in private.

rin itoshi

𓇼 idc what ANYONE says this man is a lover boy.

𓇼 he locks in with one girl (you) and stays loyal the whole show even with you having ups and downs, you both always make it through and the public just love you both.

𓇼 i feel like he’d be the first bombshell to enter the villa and the girls are ALL OVER HIM. like when miguel entered the villa on love island usa and the girls just kept pulling him away 😭

𓇼 he gets so mad when he sees his brother walk in as a bombshell a week or so later, definitely causes sm drama to the point the public are divided 50/50 about who’s side they’re on.

𓇼 literally so competitive in challenges and games, especially couple ones.

𓇼 he’s always stressing at you to pick up the pace so that you both can win, which gets him clowned on twitter.

𓇼 you both end up winning though.

𓇼 lowkey gets into beef with the boys on movie night since his clip just showed him talking shit about them all 😭

𓇼 he def hated casa amor too, refusing to kiss the girls for the challenges, causing the main villa to win the points. also sleeps outside on the day beds, looking at pictures of you on his phone.

yoichi isagi

𓇼 obviously an og. i feel like he’s also the type to find you early on and settle. though, i can see him still getting to know the bombshells, he just thinks they don’t compare to you in the slightest.

𓇼 is the maid and chef of the villa. always the one to clean up after people. he’s also the first boy to make breakfast and coffee for his couple.

𓇼 overall, he’s very sweet to all the islanders, he’s like the main boy all the girls come to for advice and a shoulder to cry on when their couple has done them dirty.

𓇼 however! we know how this man can be and when he gets jealous omg, the villa absolutely kicks off.

𓇼 i feel like everyone watching got so surprised when they saw him turn into this territorial guard dog over you when a new boy tried kissing you.

𓇼 so yeah, all the bombshells kinda left you alone after that, which he was definitely pleased about.

𓇼 lowkey gets rinsed in the twitter challenge and genuinely doesn’t understand the publics beef with him.

𓇼 “i don’t even get that jealous.”, the rest of the islanders just keep quiet.

𓇼 i feel like during casa he wouldn’t be completely innocent but he wouldn’t do anything bad enough to cause you to break up with him, just him having little flirty chats which definitely get shown at movie night.

𓇼 he’s also incredibly shit at challenges, especially the couple ones, like you’re both notorious for being last place each time.

meguru bachira

𓇼 this man would be so sweet and cheery, definitely the comedic relief of the group. i feel like he’d be on the og lineup.

𓇼 but i can see him being an accidental heartbreaker, like he’s in a couple and during casa amor there’s this one girl who shows him so much attention and he’s missing you so much so he shares a bed with her and gives her a kiss outside a challenge 🫣

𓇼 i feel like it’d get exposed during movie night or during the casa recoupling when he comes back alone and one of the girls expose him.

𓇼 surprisingly brings everyone watching to tears when he’s apologising, begging on his knees for you to forgive him.

𓇼 definitely becomes a huge thing on tiktok and twitter like kordell and serena after casa.

𓇼 eventually he makes it up to you, and the public seem to love you both even more, landing him in the final 4.

seishiro nagi

𓇼 he’s such a sweetheart but i can see him being a bit of a slow burner. i feel like he’d struggle opening up and showing affection to the girls which cause them to fall back on him.

𓇼 like if you want him you’d definitely have to play the long game, but i don’t think he’d entertain anyone else so i guess there’s some benefit.

𓇼 when the both of you were a new couple the public definitely made so many comments thinking he was so uninterested in you until they see the unseen bits and see how much more affectionate and loving he is with you.

𓇼 i feel like that would also be what’s highlighted during movie night, like a conversation with isagi where he’s telling him he’s not sure if he feels a connection with you yet. you can tell it was when you was both just getting to know each other but he doesn’t escape the foul side eye you give him.

𓇼 during casa i feel like he’d talk to the girls so condescendingly 😭

𓇼 like, production make him join the conversations with the girls and he says the most backhanded things to them, causing isagi to snicker at him while the girls just look all confused.

𓇼 hates challenges so much. he tries a bit harder for the couple ones but you always end up getting second to last place.

𓇼 “at least i’m not as bad as isagi.”, he’ll say when you roll your eyes at him after he miserably failed yet another challenge .

renuske kunigami

𓇼 oh everyone would love this man.

𓇼 i feel like he’d struggle finding a connection at first until he’s at risk of being dumped and then you, a bombshell walks in and just completely clicks with him.

𓇼 such a romantic type, i feel like the islanders would let you and him get the chance to go to the hideaway first.

𓇼 even after going to the hideaway, he remains so respectful, even though his mind is going crazy with the lingerie you wore for him.

𓇼 is also weirdly good at challenges. seems to know who all the questions are about, even if it’s a guess.

𓇼 during movie night he just sits there munching on his popcorn, watching the boys get exposed while he knows he’s one of the only boys getting a peaceful night in his couple.

𓇼 this man also despised casa. it’s the only thing him and rin really bonded over. he was also sleeping on the day beds but i feel like he’d kiss in challenges if he hadn’t made you his girlfriend before casa.

𓇼 probably the only man to not have any arguments or problems with his couple.

oliver aiku

𓇼 this man is either hated or loved by the public.

𓇼 can’t find a genuine connection for the life of him. he definitely comes in as a bombshell, and steals someone from their couple, then just keeps getting his head turned by every single bombshell that enters the villa 😭

𓇼 he genuinely can’t help himself

𓇼 always saying, “i can’t put all my eggs in one basket.” or “do you wanna go for a chat?”

𓇼 gets nervous when any of the boys talk to one of the many girls he’s pursuing.

𓇼 i feel like at first people would have zero idea this man is a player, but then eventually the public just start getting sick of him, chanting on twitter to get him out next.

𓇼 the boys take him as inspiration on what NOT to do.

𓇼 he’s also incredibly shit at challenges, always gets them wrong and dreads every time a text comes through on someone’s phone, praying it isn’t a challenge.

ryusei shidou

𓇼 he’s always getting into trouble with production, i feel like he’d end up getting kicked out after maximum a week for prohibited behaviour.

𓇼 definitely gossips with the girls telling them what their couples have been saying behind their back, like this man is MESSY. i can imagine him saying like, “oh, yeah he’s definitely into the new girl, he was telling the boys how she’s his type on the outside.”

𓇼 the boys absolutely despise him for this 💀 ESPECIALLY OLIVER.

𓇼 gets awarded messiest islander in the awards ceremony night.

𓇼 speaking of, i feel like he’d LIVE for the challenges, especially movie night or the twitter game. he wouldn’t even hold back on who he thought the tweets were about, which would cause drama after the challenge 🫢

𓇼 in terms of coupling up, i think he will just go for whoever wants him, he doesn’t seem too picky. but once he gets attention from multiple girls his head is definitely turning and he wouldn’t care about how you felt.

𓇼 gets absolutely rinsed on social media once he gets back home.

[fangdokja]

🔞You like them crazy because deep down, you are too.

❤︎ Synopsis. Your favorite yandere is a walking red flag, and honestly, you’re just obsessed with the idea of being loved to the point of insanity. You want someone who’ll choke you with affection (literally), and hey, that says a lot about your choices… and your taste in men.

♡ Book. Forbidden Fruits: Intimate Obsessions, Unhinged Desires.

♡ Pairing. Yandere! Jujutsu Kaisen Males (Gojo, Sukuna, Geto, Naoya, Megumi, Yuji, Inumaki, Kenjaku, Shiu Kong) x Fem. Reader (separate)

♡ Headcanon. What Your Favorite Yandere Says About Your Interesting Kinks

♡ Word Count. 4,055

♡ TW. dom + top + older yandere, general non-con, possessiveness, psychological manipulation and conditioning, suggestive themes, fear play, emotional manipulation and abuse, hints at rough play and sex, psychological and emotional trauma, isolation, monitoring, lack of boundaries, non-con kissing and touching, forced relationship, BDSM, manipulation of circumstances, threats

♡ Note. Due to Tumblr policy, all characters are all of age. This post is meant to be a fun, exaggerated meme—don’t take it too seriously. It’s all in good humor and not a deep psychological analysis (but maybe a little bit).

♡ A/N. So, I enjoyed making the Genshin shiz post and decided to make a JJK version. Might do a HSR one next as well... maybe. Also... I kinda went overboard here, compared to the more organized Genshin one, but seriously I was laughing while writing this. Just funny shiz post. I would say this one's more explicit though haha (no explicit sex), I had way too much fun haha, especially Naoya's and Kenjaku's.

♡ Gojo Satoru.

You have a god complex by association. You want someone who could obliterate the entire planet, but instead, he chooses to stalk your Instagram at 3 a.m. to overanalyze your cryptic "feeling lonely" post.

You’re into men who act like they’re God’s gift to humanity, and honestly? You believe them. You probably like bratty tops who think they’re in control but low-key need to be chained down before they destroy Tokyo because you wouldn’t let them kiss you.

You like men who are unbearable, but in a way that makes you want to lick their face instead of slap it. You saw him take his blindfold off once and immediately decided you’d risk everything for a man who can and will ruin your life with a smirk. Therapy? Never heard of it, because why would you need that when you’re obsessed with a 6'3" man-child whose idea of foreplay is showing off while making you think it’s all about you? Spoiler: it’s not. It’s about him, and you’re fine with it.

You like the idea of someone worshipping you, but also low-key want them to ruin you mentally, emotionally, and physically—preferably in that order.

But you’re still into being spoiled rotten—designer everything, sugar daddy vibes, and someone who’d probably keep you locked in a gilded cage. You pretend you have standards, but deep down, you’re just into being treated like you’re the rarest Pokémon in existence.

You don’t want a boyfriend—you want an all-seeing sugar daddy who gaslights you into thinking the world revolves around him (because in his mind, it does). You probably love the idea of being tied up in a metaphorical (or literal, no judgment) infinity of his obsession. Big on tease and denial, huh?

You’ve definitely thought about what his infinity could do in a make-out session and probably Googled "can Gojo turn infinity off during sex." (No, you’re not getting an answer to that.)

You're also into being teased until you're on the verge of tears, only for him to laugh and say, "Aw, you're so cute when you're frustrated," while continuing to absolutely destroy you. Bonus points if he calls you sweetheart in that condescending, sing-song voice while pinning you to the bed with one hand.

You're also into blindfolds… probably for the aesthetic, but we all know you’re fantasizing about what comes after he takes it off. You’re not scared of being kidnapped, you’re scared of never being spoiled again.

You’re also the type of person who screenshots memes and sends them 3 weeks later without context.

♡ Ryōmen Sukuna.

You're feral. You don’t want love—you want to be destroyed. You want a man who’ll treat you like garbage and somehow it’s hot. "I can fix him" but also, "I don’t want to fix him. Step on me, Daddy."

Your idea of romance is someone who could rip your heart out (literally) and then hold it hostage as you beg for his attention. You’re also too into biting. If he left a handprint bruise on your neck, you’d frame it. Low-key fantasize about getting kidnapped because you think you’d be “too bratty to kill,” and he’d find that cute.

You’re into primal domination, teeth marks, and being pinned against the wall while he laughs at your “attempt” to fight back.

You think it’s hot when men are morally bankrupt and would rather die than be called soft. You definitely believe in Stockholm Syndrome as a viable love language.

This man could call you maggot filth and you’d be texting your friends, “Sukuna said he cared about me today 🥰.” You secretly want him to slap you so hard you see the Cursed Realm.

The worse he treats you, the harder you simp. If he kills your whole family, you’d probably just be like, “They were annoying anyway, babe.”

You’re into primal play, possessiveness, and hearing “you’re mine” growled into your ear like it’s a death sentence (which, with Sukuna, it might be).

You definitely have unresolved trauma and thought “you know what would help? A walking red flag with abs.” You want someone so feral they’d burn down a village just because someone looked at you for 0.2 seconds. Also, you like men who are literally impossible to please because the idea of “earning his love” gets you off.

Your kinks? Pain. Not just physical—emotional, spiritual, metaphysical. You’re the type who thinks choking is romantic foreplay and that love should feel like a hostage situation.

You act like you hate red flags, but you’re planting them in your garden, watering them, and crying when they bloom. Therapy is not in your vocabulary.

You’re deeply into degradation and secretly believe you could “fix him.” Spoiler alert: you can’t, but you’ll die trying. You probably tweet things like “If a man doesn’t put me in his domain expansion, does he even love me?”

Bonus points if you’ve searched for Sukuna x Reader fics where he calls you pathetic but won’t let anyone else touch you.

We see you, masochist. We see you.

You also have daddy issues so big that Sukuna would probably laugh in your face while exploiting them. You’re a masochist in denial and definitely want him to choke you out with those extra hands.

You’ve 100% Googled "can I sell my soul for demon dick" and meant it. You're 100% into monsterfucking. Your search history also includes "tentacle bondage" and "can cursed energy be sexy?"

♡ Suguru Geto.

You have a superiority complex and an inferiority complex. You want someone who’ll emotionally devastate you while maintaining the vibe of a calm, manipulative cult leader. You think you’re classy, but we both know you’re just a slut for a man who says “we need to cleanse the world” like he’s ordering wine at a fancy restaurant.

You think cult leader chic is hot. Your dream date is being kidnapped and indoctrinated into a religious group. You’re into soft-spoken manipulation and think “he didn’t abandon me, he abandoned humanity.”

You want someone who sees you as the one good thing in a world full of “monkeys,” but also you secretly like the idea of being his religion.

You’ll excuse literal genocide because "he’s got a point."

You want someone who hates everyone else but you. Like, he would literally commit mass murder just so you can have a peaceful walk in the park. Into spiritual awakening, but make it horny. Imagine him whispering sacrilegious promises in your ear while surrounded by cursed spirits. That’s your vibe.

You’re the kind of person who’d get Stockholm Syndrome after two days and start quoting his manifesto back to him. He’d probably love-bomb you, use you for his master plan, and then leave you to pick up the pieces. And you’d thank him for it.

You’re into praise kink but only if it’s delivered in a soft yet condescending tone while you’re kneeling in front of him. You want someone who’ll call you his “favorite pet” while subtly threatening to end your bloodline if you step out of line.

Your other kinks? Corruption. You’re into “turning to the dark side” scenarios, and the idea of being brainwashed is weirdly hot to you. Maybe you need a therapist, but Geto would probably convince you therapists are a scam.

You probably daydream about scenarios where you “fix” him, but let’s be honest—you’d fold faster than a lawn chair if he so much as smirked at you. You want a man who looks like he listens to lo-fi while murdering people. You also have unresolved issues with wanting to “save” someone who’s already beyond saving.

You’re down bad for emotionally unavailable men who’ll manipulate you into thinking you’re special. Also, you think long hair = good in bed, and you’re not wrong.

Hair-pulling kink? Try him pulling yours while telling you you’re his only salvation.

Also, he probably tells you to call him master, and you’re into it.

Also, you’re a sucker for men who look like they haven’t slept in 10 years but can still bench press you emotionally.

♡ Naoya Zen'in.

You hate him. You absolutely despise him. And yet, why are you blushing when he calls you a stupid little slut?

You have daddy issues, but instead of unpacking them, you decided to make them worse by stanning this sexist menace. You hate him, but that’s the appeal.

Congratulations, you’re a walking meme of bad decisions, and your search history definitely includes “toxic alpha male x reader.” You don’t even want a healthy relationship—you want to be insulted creatively until you're crying, and then have him smirk while telling you how pretty you look when you break.

You tell people you hate misogyny but get weak in the knees when he says “stay in your place, woman.” You want someone who’ll treat you like garbage, then be jealous when other people try to respect you.

You think Naoya calling you a “stupid little girl” is the height of romance (because if you’re into him, you’re already used to disrespect).

100% into punishment kinks. The idea of Naoya spanking you until you cry and then calling you a “good little servant” lives rent-free in your head.

You have issues in general—daddy, mommy, and probably every other flavor. You like them toxic because boring men don’t deserve rights. You thrive in arguments, especially if you’re the one winning.

You have the worst taste in men, and you know it. You actively choose violence. You think hate sex fixes everything. Spoiler: it doesn’t. But you’ll still keep coming back for more.

You either have a degradation kink or you’re lying to yourself. You want someone to look you in the eyes and call you pathetic while simultaneously making you feel like the most desired person alive.

Into degradation? No, you’re into obliteration. You want to be called the most heinous names and still hear him say, “Good girl” after. If he spit in your mouth, you’d say “thank you” like it’s a five-star Yelp review.

You're the type to start arguments on purpose because makeup sex is your Olympic sport. You think misogyny is hot as long as it's directed at everyone but you (spoiler: Naoya’s a yandere, so he’ll worship you, but he’ll still be the absolute worst).

Brat taming. You want Naoya to slam you against a wall and hiss, "You're so mouthy for someone who's about to beg for mercy," and you’d call him an asshole just to see him lose it.

You also have a breeding kink, don’t lie.

You’re into enemies-to-lovers with 90% enemies and 10% begrudging affection.

You’re probably the most unhinged of them all. Like, “I hate him but also step on me” vibes. You’d start a fight with him for fun, only to let him win because he’s hotter when he’s smug. Also, your type in men is the human embodiment of the patriarchy, and that says a lot.

You also secretly love being called slurs in bed, and you’d let him ruin your life if it meant he’d pay attention to you. You tell people you don’t believe in second chances, yet you’d give him 47.

Naoya IS your red flag, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You’re also that person who gets mad when people insult your favorite character, even though your fave literally deserves it.

♡ Megumi Fushiguro.

You're into the quiet ones, but let’s be real, you know he’s one bad day away from snapping and going full “yandere shadow puppeteer” on you. You want someone who’s obsessively loyal, even to the point of chaining you to a radiator “for your safety.”

You’re that person who says, “I can fix him,” and you believe it. Spoiler: you can’t.

Soft yandere vibes are your weakness. You want him to apologize for locking you up and then immediately do it again. You cry during sex, and Megumi is your dream man because he’d hold you gently while fucking you senseless.

You’re basically the emotionally repressed type who cries over sad anime but denies having feelings. You low-key want to be fixed, but you also get off on being the problem.

Silent, brooding types who lose control just for you. You’d die if Megumi whispered, "I don’t care what happens to the world, as long as I have you," while dragging his nails down your skin.

You want a yandere who doesn’t look like one. You’re basically into emotionally constipated men who will quietly destroy anyone that looks at you wrong, but they’ll do it with zero fanfare.

Pretends he’s not obsessed, but you find out he’s been tracking your location via his Shikigami for weeks.

Slow burn? Try agonizingly torturous burn. You love the suffering.

Your kinks? Praise and ownership. You want a boyfriend who’ll carve your name into his soul and blush when you call him a good boy. You also cry during movies about dogs.

You fantasize about wholesome dates that spiral into him casually committing arson because someone looked at you the wrong way. You think being protected is sexy, but deep down, you know you’re the real danger.

You have main character syndrome, but you’re too awkward to admit it. You think you can “fix” people and are always attracted to brooding, emotionally unavailable boys. You’re the type to fall for someone because of their tragic backstory and spend hours analyzing their behavior like you’re trying to win a Nobel Prize.

People think you’re quiet and reserved, but deep down, you’re the freakiest person in the room.

Also, you want his demon dogs involved somehow, and we’re not unpacking that.

♡ Yuji Itadori.

You think sunshine boys are the ultimate bait-and-switch. You want someone sweet and wholesome on the surface but capable of going feral if someone threatens what’s his (spoiler: it’s you).

You’re into soft yanderes who make you think, “Wait, am I the villain here?” But then he kisses you with tears in his eyes and says, “I just don’t know what I’d do without you,” and you’re like, “Oh okay, my bad, ruin my life I guess.”

You’re delusional and think nice guys finish first. You believe you can fix him, even though there’s nothing broken except his moral compass after meeting Sukuna.

Your kinks? Consent (most stan a green flag king), but also low-key primal. You want someone who’s soft and sweet but will absolutely ruin you when pushed too far. Also, you’re probably into breathy whimpers.

You’re into soft yandere energy, like him cooking you dinner while thinking about how to “disappear” your coworker for complimenting your outfit. You also have a praise kink, but you want it to feel genuine. You’re high-key a romantic but still enjoy the thrill of danger.

You’re the type to fall for cinnamon rolls, but you secretly want them to have a feral, toxic side. You pretend to be wholesome but you’re just as depraved as the Sukuna stans—you just hide it better. Also, you’d probably call him “puppy” in bed, and he’d eat it up.

You probably fantasize about “accidentally” walking in on him shirtless after training.

You’re into strength kink. Yuji carrying you around like a sack of potatoes is your idea of foreplay.

If Yuji’s your fave, you’re into the gentle dom who’d snap someone’s neck for you aesthetic. He’d die for you, but he’d also kill for you. And you’re oddly okay with that.

Bonus points if you want to corrupt him because you think it’d be hot to see him snap.

You’re also the type to fall in love with someone because they smiled at you once in 2017.

♡ Toge Inumaki.

You want someone who won’t talk back. Literally. You think communication is overrated and fantasize about a partner who’ll just look at you with hungry eyes while whispering forbidden words into your ear.

You’re the quiet type who wants absolute filth whispered into your ear.

You want to be whispered sweet nothings like "sleep" and then wake up in his bed with a collar on. The duality of “onigiri” and “shut the fuck up” does things to you.

The idea of hearing nothing but the word “come” and losing your mind sends you feral.

You’re into restraint—both the literal and metaphorical kind. You’ve imagined him using cursed speech in the bedroom, and you know exactly how you’d want him to shut you up. You definitely think subtlety is sexier than overt passion.

You claim you like soft boys, but really, you’re just waiting for him to whisper something filthy in that raspy voice.

You’re into the duality of him being both your sweet protector and your most dangerous weakness.

You think “silent but deadly” is hot, but you also have a thing for guys who communicate through body language and emotional gestures. You probably have a Tumblr tag called “soft yanderes” that’s full of questionable content.

Your kinks? Teasing. You want to be pinned down, held firmly, and whispered sweet nothings in cursed speech that leave you trembling. Also, bondage. Don't not lie to yourself.

You think you’re subtle, but everyone knows you have a thing for quiet guys with devastatingly good bone structure. You’re also into the idea of being “the only one” who truly understands him. Let’s be real: you’d let him ruin your life with three words or less.

You’ve definitely thought about what those cursed speech commands could do in the bedroom, haven’t you? Don’t lie. “Stay.” “Kneel.” “Louder.” It’s a problem. You think you’re subtle, but the fact that you bookmarked that one smut fic about him proves otherwise.

You’ve also Googled "what does ‘salmon’ mean in bed" and debated buying a Toge cosplay for your next convention.

♡ Kenjaku.

You’re insane. Full stop.

You’re the type who’d fall for the villain just because they’re hot.

You tell yourself it’s because you “appreciate complex characters,” but it’s really because you have no self-preservation instincts. You’re also probably into weird shiz like non-human anatomy, but you’ll never admit it.

Let’s be honest: you’ve considered the implications of his ability to switch bodies. Your fantasies are wild, and you need a moment to collect yourself.

You want someone who’s both your daddy and mommy because Kenjaku’s body-hopping antics make that possible. Extreme levels of psychological manipulation and kinky body horror. A true deviant.

You’ve definitely read an NSFW fic about body possession and didn’t even flinch. You like the idea of someone who will tear your life apart but still call you their “greatest creation.”

You’re a mess. Like, emotionally and spiritually. You’ve been reading dark fanfics for so long that nothing fazes you anymore.

You don’t want love—you want chaos. You like characters who are 50% sexy and 50% terrifying. You probably think brain surgery is hot. You’re also into weird power dynamics where you’re both the victim and the accomplice.

You think mad scientist energy is hot, and you’d probably let him experiment on you just for the intimacy of it. You’re into power play and mind games, and the idea of someone controlling you physically and mentally is your ultimate kink. You’d sell your soul for five minutes of his attention, and he knows it. Your moral compass? Nonexistent. You just want to get tied up and brainwashed by a centuries-old freak.

You think it’s hot that he’d use your body as part of his experiments. You’d let him ruin your entire lineage for “science.”

You’re not even into happy endings; you just want to be obliterated.

♡ Shiu Kong.

If your favorite yandere is Shiu Kong, congratulations—you’re into men who could ruin your life with one smirk and a casual drag off their cigarette. You like your chaos with a suit and tie, and you’re absolutely weak for someone who looks like they’d call you “kid” while tying you to a chair in a dimly lit room. You’ve definitely fantasized about being the center of his cold, calculated obsession, probably while he’s adjusting his cufflinks and making morally questionable business deals.

You love the idea of a man who’s emotionally unavailable but physically possessive. Shiu wouldn’t say he loves you, but he’d definitely let you know you’re his. You probably have a thing for the cold, calculated type who’ll throw you a smirk that says, “You won’t survive me, but you’ll die happy.” Let’s be honest—you want someone who treats you like a business deal but kisses you like he’s closing the contract with teeth and tongue.

You’re into men who handle their business—and by business, we mean kidnapping, extortion, and murder with a side of snark. You probably tell yourself you’re into “stoic bad boys,” but let’s be real, you just want a man who can pin you against a wall and growl something like, “Don’t make me repeat myself, sweetheart.” Bonus points if it’s in a low, gravelly voice that makes your knees weak.

You’re the type to think a cigarette dangling from his lips while he manhandles you is peak romance. He’d pin you to a desk, adjust his suit jacket, and ask, “Do you really think anyone else could handle you like this?” in that calm, businesslike tone that makes you feral. You like being dominated by someone who looks like they just closed a multi-million-yen deal, and you want him to ruin you in the same suit he wore to work.

You want someone who exudes “don’t waste my time” energy but secretly has the patience to torment you until you’re begging (for mercy or more, who’s to say?). You saw him in that suit and immediately thought, “I wonder if he’d use that belt on me?” Spoiler: he would, but only after lighting a cigarette and telling you to be quiet.

You fantasize about someone who’ll say, “Don’t get attached,” while making you fall so hard you’re practically writing your own kidnapping ransom note.

You’re also into the grudging protector trope—he’ll act like he’s just “handling business,” but the second someone else looks at you wrong, you know he’s flipping tables and snarling something like, “They should’ve known better.” Bonus points if he dusts himself off afterward and says, “Clean yourself up, sweetheart. I’ve got plans for us.”

“I’ll only associate with you in hell” energy that screams hot and toxic.

———

P.S. Actually fun fact, among all JJK yanderes, I enjoy writing Kenjaku the most.

────────────

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[berzahoes]

manifestation, baby! | tom blyth

summary: fans find out tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes (and she definitely manifested her life)

an: the way i thought about this idea and quickly wrote it down so i didn’t forget it. i used to have an app that made those fake tweets but i’m just tired to make fake profiles 😭 maybe i’ll change it later idk

for the purpose of this imagine, let’s pretend tbosas book was published between 2017-2019

liked by zeglerslove, 444_bri and 35,377 others

tomblythxsnow apparently tom’s girlfriend has an old youtube channel where she reviews books and she reviewed the ballad of songbirds and snakes and she literally manifested her future 😭

lucymygf WHATTT WHATS HER CHANNEL NAME

tomblythxsnow it’s yn’s book corner. she hasn’t posted since 2019 ngl i need her to review a little life because that book destroyed me

nat76_ omg i used to watch her videos!! i’m still subscribed to her 😭 i remember only buying and reading the books she liked because i wanted to be her so bad

j4ckaszlol “if someone ever makes a movie adaptation of this book and casts someone attractive to play snow then i am sorry for the person i become” REALLLLL

graybairdsmockingjay dude the part where she said “i’m calling it now whoever plays young snow will be my boyfriend. movie studios always cast someone attractive as the younger version of a character!” MY JAW DROPPED SHE NEEDS TO TELL ME HER WAYS

“guess what rachel just sent me.” you heard tom say when he arrived to your shared apartment.

“wedding invitations?!” you gasped as you almost stood up from the sofa since you were watching reruns of criminal minds, but tom stopped you.

“no, it’s better!” tom sat beside you and showed you his phone. “why didn’t you tell me you had a youtube channel?” on his phone screen was your review of the ballad of songbirds and snakes, which had become a very popular video over the past couple of days.

you hid your face with a pillow and groaned. “don’t remind me. i just wanted to talk about my books and my family didn’t care. don’t watch it! it’s embarrassing!”

“i think it’s cute. aw look, your dog made a cameo!” he pointed at your old dog you used to have that walked into the frame.

“indi! no, come sit right here. oh . . . and she’s walking away. okay, anyways.” your younger self said in the video

“indi? why Indi?” tom asked you even though you were still hiding from embarrassment.

“after indiana jones. my dad and i loved those movies and he gifted me indi as a birthday present.” you confessed.

“love, don’t be embarrassed. i think it’s cute that you manifested your life according to the comments on instagram,” tom paused the video then cuddled up to you. “i won’t watch it if you don’t want me to.”

“it’s fine, i just didn’t think anyone would find it. we can watch it together.” you uncovered yourself and sat down properly to watch the video with tom. before he pressed the play button and together you watch your younger self review the book.

“i’ve read all the hunger games books at least four times and this one did not disappoint. but i do hope whoever ends up being cast as young snow is someone hot. i’m sorry it’s the rules! and they will be my boyfriend, i’m calling dibs.”

tom smirked at you. “if only younger you could see you now.”

“she would definitely think ‘wow, how did we pull this beautiful man?’ then be confused as to why the hunger games and fnaf is trending in 2023.”

liked by tomblyth, rachelzegler and 1,377,389 others

ynlovesbooks told ya. love you tomblyth ❤️

rachelzegler she is THAT girl

ynlovesbooks no u

everdeenx12 bestie he’s EVIL

ynlovesbooks he’s a walking red flag but my favorite color is red 😍

chamaletproblems pls tell me how you did this

ynlovesbooks i figured out who they were casting and kept him hostage until he agreed to be my bf

tomblyth true

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hiiii!!! Babes wow I’m so IN LOVE with the way you write soft Miguel!!! It’s the cutest effing shiz 🥹 I go very weak in the knees for a big grumpy indifferent man that is so dang painfully soft for their girl it’s such a huge turn on for my heart 😩 I also came to share that I’ve been imagining Miguel overhearing reader talk about how she’s never had a secret admirer and then a few days later she finds a red rose w/a lil note addressed to her. From a distance Miguel & Jess watch as she parades her lil rose around the others all smiley and Jess asks if he’s gonna tell her and he murmurs “let her have her little admirer” Like that mans got it baaad 😮‍💨

hiii!! omg stop it, that’s so fucking sweet!! thank you! and me too!! I love mean cold grumpy men that have a soft spot for their girl, like embarrassing soft and mushy for her!! it’s my weakness😩 that is the cutest idea. thank you for requesting, hope you like it💌

secret admirer

miguel o’hara x f reader

wc: 722

part 2 -> here

You were never usually one to receive spontaneous gifts from others, rarely one to have a secret admirer, so when you walk into your office and see a singular red rose with a small envelope attached, your stomach immediately somersaulted. 

A few days prior, you and Peter were talking about gifts and what he should get MJ for their upcoming anniversary, and then the subject of secret admirers arose. You mentioned how you've never been on the receiving end of those small romantic gestures and how you wished and hoped you could be at some point. To you, it was a simple flyaway comment, but based on Peter's solemn reaction, you couldn't help but think that he felt guilty.

You did ponder if Peter left it for you as a sympathy gift, but the red rose was a tell-tell sign that he didn't. So now, you couldn't help but wonder who gave you the flower. Who knew the passcode for your door? Who knew about your whereabouts? All these questions span in your mind as you walk into your office.

You reach for the rose, bringing the flower to your nose, softly breathing in its fragrant scent as you pick up the envelope. You place the flower down and glance around your office, looking through the windows to see if anyone's watching. Once you know it's clear, you open the paper and pull out the small note. 

' I heard you've never had a secret admirer before,

I'm glad to be your first. 

Spider-Man '

Even though it's tagged Spider-Man, it could be anyone. Literally anybody. Hundreds, if not thousands, of possibilities. But the one spider that first came to mind was Peter. You wanted to tell him about the strange coincidence and share your happiness about the situation. So you flag him down, rose and note in your hand as you search through HQ for him.

You finally spot him in the cafeteria with Jess and Miguel, talking over food and coffee. You hesitantly make your way over with a smile as you subtly wave over to him. 

"Sorry- sorry, do you mind if I borrow Peter real quick?" you ask, glancing between them all.

"Sure," Miguel softly smiles as he looks you up and down, noticing the rose in your hand. 

"Thank you, we won't be long. Hurry- come on," you say, tugging Peter's arm. 

"Alright, alright," he huffs, taking a final bite of his burger before placing it down. "What's so urgent anyway?" he grumbles, trudging after you as he adjusts Mayday in the Björn.

"You know how I mentioned the other day- about the secret admirer thing...?" you start, looking at him eagerly. "Well, look what I just found," you smile, showing off your rose and note. "I went into my office, and- and it was just sitting there, for me. A rose for me!" you excitedly gush, smiling widely. 

"No way?" he says, his joyful tone matching yours. "Let me see the note,"

As he reads through the letter, you glance around the cafeteria, your gaze honing in on Jess and Miguel, who were not so subtly staring at you. Suspicions rise when you notice them whisper to each other, heads together as if they're in cahoots.

"Hey Peter, can you do me a favour?" you ask, slyly leaning forward.

"Sure, what's up?"

"This might be really wrong, but I need you to do something for me. I need you to eavesdrop, please?" you say sweetly, hoping to mask the morally wrong favour you were asking.

"Seriously?" 

"Yes, please. And do it quick. Miguel and Jess- hurry,"

"Shut up then, so I can listen," he shushes you, chuckling.

He's quiet for a few moments, a slow smile creeping on his face as he listens in on their conversation. 

"What are they saying? Tell me," you ask, eyes keen as they dart around the room.

"I can't tell you..." he grins, shaking his head. 

"Why? Why not?" you playfully hound, gesturing with your hands. "Come on, please?"

"God, he's gonna kill me," he mutters. "All I heard was the end part... Jess said, 'Are you gonna tell her about the rose?' and then Miguel said, 'Let her have her little admirer. She needs it,' okay? That's all I heard,"

Your smile widens. 

The rose, it was from Miguel?

[sepublic]

I remember hearing that Dana was inspired by True Crime, amongst other things and people IRL, when writing Belos. And it seems that contrary to the notoriety of True Crime fans, she actually understood the assignment.

Because she opted to demystify the serial killer as this dark, unusual psychology that operates outside of societal borders and rules, disturbed by some secret reason, and instead literally pull off the mask to reveal he’s just some white manchild who hates women and minorities to a violent degree, because he feels threatened by them and their ability to say No in his entitlement. There’s nothing special or unique about his motives.

He’s no exception to the status quo, he is it unmasked of the veneer of civility, he’s the lynch mob and the cop (all of whom inherit the violence of white supremacy and colonialism) and fittingly a lot of serial killers were clocked by women and PoC as dangerous, but cops —largely white men— dismissed their claims because look at this dude, he seems like an upstanding citizen! And that’s really how he got away.

And because his victims were people the system was less likely to believe because they both operated on the same biases, you see why a lot of cops who commit brutality are drawn to an institution where they’re given violent power over brown and/or queer communities who are labeled as ‘suspicious’, because they enjoy easy targets they know the system doesn’t care about, and are enraged by body cams and accountability.

It doesn’t matter if they’re intentionally bigoted, their support of an inherently bigoted institution makes them the same; Internalized biases and “I don’t see race” and all that. You see how Philip wanted to be a witch hunter —the prototypical cop who is not exclusively violent towards women but still has a clear slant— or colonial savior so bad, because his violence could be legitimized by the authority of the state.

He leans into it hardcore when he feels threatened by the presence of an outside girl who challenges the Christian narrative of Gravesfield, to the point of violence; It’s a position that validates killing anyone who doesn’t agree with him in general, hence Caleb and the Grimwalkers, but of course his and society’s biases slant towards women and PoC. And while it ultimately doesn’t matter whether he’s intentionally racist/misogynistic, it’s worth addressing that he very much does have the intention due to his blatant Conservative backdrop.

And seeing how charming Philip is and the portrayal of him as a little kid playing games in his youth, a perception Caleb might’ve still had which led to his death, I can see the direct line to families who find out their sons are school shooters and are in disbelief because he was such a nice kid! While ignoring the obvious Red Flags because white men are allowed to express these without being immediately scrutinized by the community, by having it brushed off. On some level cops don’t suspect him because he’s the same type of guy as them.

Part of that denial comes from the fact that he’s not an “unfeeling sociopath” who’s wired differently. Philip can feel empathy and guilt like anyone else, but he’s still a hateful prick and these aren’t mutually exclusive; Not when people can be perfectly selective about who they extend these feelings towards, or even do things in spite of these feelings, because other ones —anger and pride and hatred— exist and they choose to prioritize those. There’s an assumption that empathy and guilt inherently make you a good person, but they don’t; That ultimately comes from what you do about it, not how you feel.

You could even say Dana and the other writers wrote him too well, because true to life, we have a similar issue but on a micro-scale via the abstraction of fiction regarding a very dedicated fan base who loves to romanticize him and his actions, attributing his issues to some secret trauma in childhood, a young man failed by society! While also scrubbing him of his racism and misogyny and reliance on the status quo, to make him ‘apolitical’ and you can see the same not just with fans but also in society.

Because society doesn’t want to acknowledge serial killers as just the truth behind their white sons and the system that absolved and encourages them, because that would require them to admit their guilt in how they’re structured. Rather, they’ll say these men reflect some dark truth inherent to humanity, and don’t exist within a certain sociopolitical framework.

And so he was a ‘loner’ whose problems can be pathologized via mental illness, his trauma can be traced back to a specific incident in his youth he just couldn’t get over. So you see how school shooters are made into victims, how serial killers are also made apolitical and even alien to distance them from the status quo.

And then you can lean into how unusual they are by writing characters like Dexter or Hannibal Lecter, you can not just defend the system but feed into it via the commodification of their violence as entertainment and consumption, and thus fuel the white supremacy train by letting their violence towards women and minorities be praised as something fascinating and interesting and conveniently clean of bigotry. This is the dichotomy of the hypothetical, romanticized Fantasy Serial Killer, and the banal IRL Serial Killer.

Thus we have the same cycle of white men’s violence being praised and validated by the system, and white men feeling entitled to this fame as a delusional fantasy. Because you’ve never heard of a black serial killer; Because black people are violent, that’s just the way they are, right? But if white men are violent, this is sensationalized as somehow unusual and fascinating and worth dedicating countless books and shows and movies towards. Obviously.

And even going back to witch hunters, sometimes I wonder about the constant consideration of, What if witches did exist? What if they were evil? Things like The VVitch or The Conjuring series, which have some framing of the Salem Witch Trials’ IRL violence towards women as legitimate in another universe, because of Satanism’s genuine predatory threat towards women, and how evil women sacrifice theirs or others’ God-given gift of a child, and now threaten another white Christian family.

And again there’s the the demystifying of the real life witch hunter too when we have a historical reenactment declare verbatim that IRL witch hunters were motivated by economics and other banal factors, not by any genuine belief in the dangers of demons; And even in a setting where the demons were real, they were not the predatory threat IRL witch hunters made them out to be, and so their very real biases and ulterior motives still apply in cumulative insincerity.

Hence, the Titan correcting Luz by explaining Belos as someone who only cares about being the hero in his own delusion; The fascist wet dream of a hidden invader here to corrupt even young white men, an outside monster to vanquish and whose destruction justifies the state, when in reality the monster IS the state, and before he was even presented as a witch (much less the human truth), his system’s destruction was called for.

Ultimately, a lot of True Crime and similar narratives are criticized for focusing more on this apparently inevitable mystique behind the perpetrators, who warrant far more attention than their victims. So when the villain is an example of True Crime, it’s worth noting how the show is so much more focused on the ‘weirdoes’ he targets, on women and/or PoC. The lives of Luz Noceda and her friends, them getting along and their psychologies, are just so much more important, and it really isn’t about that guy, who is informed as much as he needs to be.

But again, the True Crime fans dilemma; People genuinely salty at the show for not focusing on their favorite serial killer and his troubled backstory, his tragic motives and Puritan repression. The framing of his murders and motives isolated through the lens of his violence on undeserving white men, and not on the out-group he is specifically targeting and has committed much more violence on, esp if you look at the narrative’s actual framing of his impact on our protagonists, but also other victims who are witches or demons, and even his own self-professed motives; Hence, ‘Fratricide Georg’ as a joke depoliticized of his colonial violence, a violence that is not just adjacent to but fulfilling racism.

Because he hallucinated only those white men out of guilt, but that’s his biased perspective and priorities; And so you see how this is contrasted with a refusal to empathize with people like the Collector or Luz, who are put into the same situations as his white male victims via shared cinematography, yet are just as rejected. Luz is only put into this situation as convenient to Belos’ narrative, the closest replacement to a white male human he can get, but again if this girl of color says No, he tries to murder her and even does.

Yet again, people take genuine, personal insult at the creator for finding Belos to be her least favorite character to write, while ignoring that she still found him necessary to the story she was trying to tell; She just found the framing and focus should’ve been shifted to his actual victims’ deep and meaningful lives, how they matter. So people hate that S3 cares more about Luz Noceda’s relationship with her parents of color, as well as her female mentor and demonic brother, or her queer relationship with her girlfriend, etc.

And even when they get a bone of white boy Hunter, it’s still not enough; Fans inevitably gather themselves into an almost frenzied state of personal victimization, rallying into harassment of PoC who criticize their portrayal and discussion around their colonial serial killer fave, organizing dedicated trends and months to giving their white men the focus they ‘deserved’, because this is just White fandom in general.

Look at the entitlement campaigns regarding Ben Solo or Billy Hargroves deserving better, these young white men violent to women and minorities. It’s just the same thing but on a micro-scale, at least filtered via fictional characters. But Jesus you see how internalized biases bleed into everything. You’ve never heard of a black serial killer and fandom doesn’t fight for characters of color.

[blackgirlwhowrites2k23]

Wusyaname? - Pablo Gavi

Summary: You were beauty personified; He just had to get your name.

A/N: Uploading multiple stories at once because I'm not on here as much as I want to be. Anyways, made it to med school! Sorry for taking so long, but the bills had to be paid😭. DC @cisqueenin

Trigger warning: Usage of Y/N 💀 --------------------------------------------------------------------

Camp Nou was alive. The rumbling, raging chants of "Barça! Barça!" roared through the stands, thunderous in a way that shook the entire stadium. Gavi jogged off the pitch, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. The air was electric, buzzing with the energy of all their fans celebrating Barcelona’s decisive 3-0 victory. He was basking in the glory of it all—three points secured, one thanks to himself, his team soaring in the league.  

But something was off.  

He felt it throughout the game, but now he could focus more on finding the source. 

As his teammates jogged ahead, laughing and slapping each other on the back, Gavi found his thoughts drifting. It wasn’t like him. Usually, he was so so laser-focused after a game, replaying key moments in his mind or thinking about how he could improve. Yet, as he neared the tunnel, something tugged at him—a strange, unexplainable pull that made him turn around.  

His eyes wildly scanned the stands, now a sea of red and blue with flags waved high, their vibrant colors flashing under the floodlights. Fans shouted, their voices hoarse from screaming all the screaming they were doing. He was always so grateful for the support he received; he literally bled red and blue and thankfully, so do they. Some leaned over the railings, the rails seeming to mold under the force of the fans,  while others snapped pictures to immortalize the night.  

And then, he saw her.  

She wasn’t waving or calling out, yet he still felt like she demanded his attention. Instead, she stood in the midst of the crowd, near some familiar faces, her laughter carrying over the chaos. It was a deep, uninhibited laugh that sent a wave of electricity through him as she playfully shoved the shoulder of a friend beside her. Her radiant skin seemed to glow in the sunlight, and the way she carried herself—calm, seemingly untouched by the frenzy around her—grabbed his attention and left him a little breathless. More so then he was after playing a 90 minute match, if you would believe it. 

She wore a Barcelona jersey (thank God!) that draped casually on her body, paired with some equally loose fitting jeans that she wore amazingly (simple; but Kounde would be proud). She wasn’t trying to stand out, but somehow, she was the only thing Gavi could see. Her smile lit up her entire face, her eyes crinkling at the corners as she tilted her head back in amusement.  

Gavi blinked, completely caught off guard. He wasn’t the type to get distracted—especially not by strangers in the stands. It was rare that he even paid attention to the crowd at all. But there was something about her. Something different. Cliche, yes. But man was it true.  

His chest tightened, and he felt an inexplicable need to keep looking, to memorize the curve of her smile, the way her hair framed her face like a halo. She seemed so... alive, so full of energy and joy. So- 

“Yo, Gavi!”  

Balde’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Gavi blinked and turned, his heart racing as if he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. It’s not illegal to look. He has eyes, he planned to use them.

Balde jogged over, a grin already forming on his face. His gaze followed Gavi’s line of sight, and the smirk deepened. “Ah, can’t say I’m surprised. That’s my girl’s best friend. They practically grew up together”  

“What?” Gavi’s cheeks heated instantly, and he quickly looked away, trying to act casual as he brushed the hair out of his face and then placed his hands on his hips. Real casual like. “I wasn’t staring.”  

“Sure, man.” Balde chuckled, his tone laced with mirth as he looked over Gavi. He clapped Gavi on the shoulder, the gesture light but teasing. “You’ve got good taste, though. My girlfriend is amazing, and you know what they say: birds of a feather flock together." He pauses to send Gavi a look as he rubs his chin, "I wonder what it says about me that we hang out together.”

Gavi rolls his eyes so hard that they almost roll out his skull. Maybe if they fall near her, she’ll help him put them back. “Ale, you’re hilarious. I’m surprised football is what you chose as a career and not comedy.”

Balde gives him a bright smile before he gets serious again. “She’s really cool. Not as cool as my lady, but her name’s [Y/N].”  

Y/N. The name lingered in Gavi’s mind, rolling around for a bit before settling into the back of his mind for later.  

“She’s not...” He trailed off, unsure how to finish the sentence without sounding like he was definitely staring.  Which he wasn't.

“She’s single,” Balde answered, clearly reading his mind. “And no, she’s not like a crazy, obsessed fan, if that’s what you’re worried about.”  

“I didn’t ask that,” Gavi muttered, flustered.  

Balde shrugged, still grinning. “Come on, we’re heading out tonight. You should join us. We have an amazing win to celebrate.”  

Gavi hesitated. He wasn’t usually one for post-game outings, preferring to recharge alone after the intensity of a match. But it’s not like he had anything better to do. 

“Yeah,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady. “Okay.”  

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

The next evening, Gavi found himself sprawled on Balde’s couch, a PlayStation controller balanced in his hands. The apartment was a whirlwind—conversation echoed off the walls, the soft hum of music played in the background, and the faint scent of takeout wafted from the kitchen.

Balde and his girlfriend, Nia, were cozied up on one end of the sofa, a blanket draped over their laps as they shared whispered jokes. Every now and then, their quiet laughter would bubble into something louder, making Gavi sigh dramatically.

Going out the day before hadn’t been as eventful as he had hoped. He had hoped to run into a certain someone, but of course he wasn’t so lucky. 

“Man, every time I hang out with you two, you guys make me feel like a third wheel,” he said, tossing the controller onto the couch seat next to him with a huff. “It’s like you’re doing this on purpose.”

Nia  tilted her head innocently, though her grin gave her away. “What do you mean? We’re just sitting here, minding our business.”

Gavi shot her a pointed look. “Oh, sure. Yeah, yeah. Can you maybe try a little harder at looking less in love,” He gestured vaguely at the two of them. “You’ve got a girlfriend, Pedri’s got a girlfriend, even Fermin is seeing someone. Meanwhile, I’m over here just... existing. Is it too much to ask for you guys to practice social distancing sometimes? At Least while your wonderful, single friend Gavi is over?”

Balde smirked, clearly enjoying his friend’s irritation. “You sound jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Gavi shot back, sitting up straighter. “I’m just stating facts. Being the only single one here is starting to feel like a full-time job.”

Across from him, Balde’s girlfriend laughed, nudging Balde playfully. “Poor Gavi. Someone needs to get this boy a date before he loses his mind.”

“Don’t look at me,” Gavi said, throwing his hands up in mock defense. “You’re the ones rubbing your picture-perfect relationship in my face.”

Her grin widened, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well,” she said slowly, dragging out the word as if she were revealing a secret, “since you brought it up, I might actually know someone.”

Gavi froze, immediately wary. His eyes narrowed. “Oh no. Whenever either of you gets an idea something always goes wrong. I don’t trust this. At all.”

“Relax,” Balde chimed in, leaning forward to grab his drink from the coffee table. “She’s cool. And I know you’ve already seen her.”

“What?” Gavi’s brows knit together in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

Balde’s girlfriend leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm as her grin turned downright devious. “The girl you just couldn’t stop staring at last night. You know, the one in the stands at Camp Nou?”

Gavi stiffened. His heart skipped a beat, and a flicker of embarrassment crossed his face. “I wasn’t staring,” he said quickly, his tone defensive. 

“Sure, Gavi,” Balde said with a knowing laugh. “We believe you. Totally.”

Gavi gives him a heat glare. “ And I can’t believe you told her I was staring.”

“He didn't have to tell me. I saw your love-struck puppy eyes from where I was sitting. You know, right next to her,” Nia corrects.

“ Yeah they were kind of hard to miss,” Balde adds, nodding sagely.

Ignoring Balde, his girlfriend continued, her voice warm and teasing. “Her name’s [Y/N]. She’s a good friend of mine. And, fun fact, she thought you were cute.”

Gavi blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “She... what?”

“She thought you were cute,” she repeated, her grin widening. “When I told her I knew you, she might have mentioned you seemed... interesting.”

“I’m not interesting,” Gavi muttered, though his attempt to brush it off lacked conviction.

Balde’s laughter grew louder as he draped an arm over the couch he and Nia shared. “You’re making this too easy. Look, just come out with us tomorrow. We’re all going to that spot downtown. No pressure or anything. Just a chance to hang out, get to know her.”

Gavi hesitated, chewing the inside of his cheek. He wasn’t sure if it was nerves, curiosity, or a mix of both, but the idea of seeing her again stirred something in him.

“I don’t know,” he said slowly. “What if it’s awkward? What if she’s nothing like what I’m expecting?”

“Then it’s awkward,” Balde’s girlfriend said with a shrug. “But I don’t think it will be. She’s great. You’ll see.”

Gavi groaned, leaning back against the couch as if the weight of their suggestion was too much to bear. “Fine,” he said after a long pause. “But if this goes horribly wrong, I’m blaming both of you.”

Balde grinned triumphantly. “You’ll thank us later.”

Gavi wasn’t so sure. But as he sat there, pretending to focus on the video game in front of him, his mind wandered back to Camp Nou, to the girl with the radiant smile and carefree laugh. Maybe—just maybe—this wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

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

The trendy bar in the heart of Barcelona was alive with energy, its dim lighting and pulsating music creating an atmosphere that was kinda relaxing. But Gavi was anything but. He trailed behind Balde and his girlfriend as they weaved through the crowd, the mingling scents of cocktails and cologne filling the air. Despite his usual confidence on the pitch, he felt a twinge of nerves creeping in. His palms were sweaty. Knees weak. Something about Mom’s spaghetti. This wasn’t a stadium full of fans or a post-match interview—this was different.  

“There she is,” Balde’s girlfriend murmured, tilting her head toward a corner table.  

Gavi followed her gaze, and for a moment, his breath hitched. You were even more stunning up close. You sat with an effortless grace, your fitted blue dress hugging your figure and accentuating your skin. Your curls framed your face in perfect harmony with your glowing smile, which lit up as you laughed.  

“Annnnnd, you’re staring. Nia, I think we lost him, babe,” Balde teased in a low voice, nudging Gavi.  

“Shut up,” Gavi muttered, his face warming.  

“Come on,” Balde’s girlfriend urged, pulling him forward with a grin that said she wasn’t going to let him back out.  

As they reached the table, the laughter faded, and you glanced up. Your eyes met Gavi’s, and for a heartbeat, the bustling bar seemed to melt away. There was a spark in your gaze—a warmth that felt both inviting and disarming.  

“Y/N, this is Gavi,” Nia said, beaming.  

“Hi,” You greeted, your voice smooth and confident, carrying just enough intrigue to make Gavi’s pulse quicken.  

“Hey,” Gavi replied, feeling uncharacteristically tongue-tied. He extended his hand, and your grip was firm yet soft, grounding him in the moment.  

Her lips quirked into a teasing smile. “You play for Barça, right? Small club or something?”  

Gavi chuckled, the icebreaker easing the tightness in his chest. “Yeah, something like that. You’ve probably never heard of it.”  

You laughed, a sound so genuine it sent a strange flutter through him. He heard it being caused by others. But now it was caused by him. He definitely wanted to hear it again.

They settled into seats, the initial awkwardness dissolving as the conversation began to flow. To Gavi’s surprise, you weren't just witty—you were sharp, quick on your feet, and unapologetically yourself. You asked him about his career but didn’t linger on it, seamlessly shifting the topic to music, travel, and your own passions.  

Hours passed like minutes. The hum of the bar became a distant backdrop as they found themselves engrossed in their own world. At one point, you tilted your head and smirked. “So, do you always stare at girls from the pitch, or was that a one-time thing?”  

Gavi felt his cheeks flush, his laugh betraying him. “I wasn’t staring,” he protested weakly, though his grin gave him away.  

“Right,” you said, your tone dripping with mock disbelief. “Well, either way, I’ll take it as a compliment.”  

Your playful confidence was refreshing, and Gavi found himself smiling more than he had in weeks. With you, he didn’t feel the need to impress or filter himself. For the first time in what felt like forever, he felt seen—not as Gavi, the footballer, but as just Pablo.  

—-------------------------------

As the night wound down, the energy of the bar mellowed, and the group began to disperse. Gavi instinctively offered to walk you to your car, feeling reluctant to let the evening end. The streets outside were quieter now, the cool night air carrying a hint of the sea as they strolled under the glow of Barcelona’s streetlights.  

“Thanks for tonight,” You said as you both stopped beside your car. Your voice was softer now, yet still laced with that same effortless confidence.  

“No,” Gavi said, his sincerity catching even him off guard. “Thank you. I’m really glad I came.”  

You smiled, your gaze lingering on his for a moment longer than felt casual. “Maybe we’ll see each other again?”  

The hope in your voice mirrored the flutter in his chest, and Gavi found himself nodding, a rare shyness creeping into his expression. “I’d like that.”  

As you climbed into your car and drove off, Gavi remained on the curb, watching the taillights fade into the distance. A small, unshakable smile tugged at his lips. For the first time in a long while, he felt a new sense of anticipation—like he’d found something worth chasing, both on and off the pitch.  

[crossfandomskylines]

In the Space Between Us: Chapter 1

OTHER CHAPTERS:

Chapter 1 I Chapter 2 I Chapter 3 I Chapter 4 I Chapter 5

Chapter 6 I Chapter 7 I Chapter 8 I Chapter 9 I Chapter 10

Chapter 11 I Chapter 12 I Chapter 13 I Chapter 14 I Chapter 15

Chapter 16 I Chapter 17 I Chapter 18 I Chapter 19 I Chapter 20

Pairing: Glen Powell x OC

Summary: At Tanner Novlan's 4th of July barbecue, Gabby Summers finds herself unexpectedly face-to-face with Glen Powell—literally. What starts as a mishap quickly turns into something more as the two discover an effortless chemistry, sharing laughs, stories, and sidelong glances throughout the night. As fireworks light up the sky, Gabby wonders if their spark could be more than just a passing moment.

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: None.

A/N: This is my first fanfic that I've ever posted and there will be several more parts! Please let me know what you think with Hearts, Comments, and Reblogs!

The sky above Los Angeles was painted with the soft hues of an early July evening, just beginning to melt into a deeper blue as the sun dipped closer to the horizon. Tanner Novlan's backyard was alive with a festive warmth that matched the holiday. Strings of lights crisscrossed overhead, casting a soft glow on the gathering crowd. Laughter and chatter filled the air, blending with the faint melody of classic rock coming from a speaker nestled near the patio. The unmistakable aroma of barbecue wafted from the grill, where Tanner and Chord Overstreet stood, spatulas in hand, flipping burgers and ribs with practiced ease.

Gabby Summers strolled through the crowd, her nearly empty drink in hand. The warmth of the evening settled around her, making her feel slightly flushed, though she didn’t mind. She glanced around, catching sight of a few familiar faces mingling and laughing, each one immersed in the joy of the moment. 

It was her first time at one of Tanner’s famous Fourth of July barbecues, and she’d been thrilled to receive an invitation through his wife, Kayla. With the soft California breeze brushing her cheeks and the hum of excited voices, she felt like she was finally, truly part of the city's creative scene.

Just as Gabby was about to slip back inside to refill her drink, she collided with someone hard enough to jolt the cup in her hand. A splash of cold liquid hit her, and she instinctively looked down. The bright red punch from a solo cup now stained her white T-shirt, its American flag graphic damp and smeared with sticky crimson.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” The voice was deep and genuinely apologetic.

Gabby looked up, meeting the gaze of the man she’d bumped into. He had striking green eyes that sparkled with both concern and embarrassment, and his tall frame loomed over her as he quickly took in the mess. There was something familiar about his face, but she couldn’t quite place it, her thoughts still on the vibrant stain spreading across her shirt.

He grimaced, wincing as he took in the mess he’d inadvertently made. “I didn’t see you there. Are you okay?”

Gabby blinked, caught slightly off guard. “Yeah, I’m fine, just—" She looked down at the mess, managing a soft laugh. “Not exactly the look I was going for tonight.”

The man chuckled, his smile easy and a little sheepish. “I can imagine. Here, let me help you.” He held up his hand as if offering assistance, but hesitated, clearly realizing he couldn’t exactly clean the stain off for her. Instead, he gestured toward the house. “I think they’ve got some towels in the kitchen. Let me walk you over?”

Appreciating his awkward, sincere attempt to fix the situation, Gabby nodded, smiling as they headed inside.

Inside the kitchen, Gabby reached for a napkin to blot at the punch stain, though it did little to help. Tanner’s wife, Kayla, spotted them, her eyes widening slightly at the mess.

“Oh no, Gabby! Hang on, there might be a Tide to Go pen in the laundry room down the hall,” Kayla suggested, pointing in the direction of a nearby doorway. “Maybe that’ll do the trick.”

“Thanks, Kayla,” Gabby replied, smiling gratefully before heading down the hall with Glen close behind.

In the laundry room, Gabby took the Tide pen from the shelf and dabbed it against the glaring red stain, trying not to laugh at the hopelessness of the task. The stain had already set, bright and relentless, covering most of the front of her shirt.

“Looks like that punch doesn’t give up without a fight,” Glen said with a grin, watching as she sighed, inspecting the damage in the mirror.

Gabby gave up, a chuckle escaping her. “Well, it’s safe to say this shirt isn’t going back to normal tonight.”

Glen looked her over with an assessing gaze, and after a second, he shrugged, starting to unbutton his short-sleeved shirt. 

“Here,” he said, sliding it off to reveal a fitted white tank underneath. He held out the shirt to her. “Take this. Your shirt’s basically a lost cause, and you probably don’t want to head back out there looking like… well, like this.”

She blinked, caught off guard by his offer. “Really? I can’t just take your shirt…”

“Sure you can,” he replied with an easy smile, urging the shirt into her hands.

Hesitantly, she took it, feeling a little self-conscious but grateful. “Alright, if you insist. Thanks.”

Glen stepped outside the laundry room to give her a moment to change. Gabby slipped out of her damp, stained shirt, and as she slid Glen’s over her shoulders, she immediately noticed the faint, rich scent of his cologne—fresh and woody with a hint of something warm and citrusy. She could pick out notes of bergamot and amberwood, leaving a soft, comforting mix of crispness and warmth.

The shirt was loose, the sleeves brushing past her elbows, and she buttoned it up, tucking it into her light-wash denim shorts to give it a bit of shape. She took a final glance in the mirror, adjusting the collar and smoothing the fabric. It wasn’t her planned look, but somehow, it felt effortless and casual, with a charm that almost suited her more than the original outfit had.

As Gabby opened the door and stepped out of the laundry room, she found Glen waiting just a few feet away. He was leaning casually against the wall, hands in his pockets, and he straightened when he saw her.

“Thanks again for this,” she said, gesturing to his shirt with a shy smile. “I’m… well, I’m lucky you had a spare.” She paused, realizing something. “I just realized—I don’t actually know your name.”

He chuckled, a faint dimple appearing on his cheek as he extended a hand. “Glen. Glen Powell.”

The name rang a bell, but Gabby couldn’t place it immediately. She took his hand, her smile widening as his warm grip lingered just a moment longer than necessary.

“Nice to meet you, Glen. I’m Gabby—Gabriella Summers,” she replied, giving his hand a gentle shake.

“Gabriella,” he repeated, seeming to test the name with a slight smile.

She gave him a wry look. “At least I don’t look like I just lost a paintball match anymore.”

“Not at all,” he said, his gaze sweeping over her in his shirt. “In fact, I think you pull it off better than I do.”

Gabby laughed, warmth creeping into her cheeks. “You’re just saying that because you feel guilty.”

“Maybe,” he teased, shrugging. “But I mean it.”

They exchanged a smile, and for a moment, everything around them felt still, despite the faint sounds of music and laughter carrying in from outside.

“Shall we head back?” he asked, gesturing toward the door, though he made no move to walk ahead of her.

“Lead the way,” she replied, a hint of excitement bubbling up. She was starting to get the feeling that tonight might be more interesting than she’d expected.

As they returned to the party, Gabby and Glen quickly drifted back into the lively atmosphere of Tanner’s backyard. Glen stayed close by, occasionally stealing glances at her as she mingled with others, their earlier mishap now a quiet joke between them. Gabby found herself laughing more easily with each passing moment, almost as if the night had taken on a new lightness.

It wasn’t long before Tanner, who’d been tending the grill with Chord, noticed Glen’s unusual choice of attire.

“Glen! What’s with the tank top?” Tanner called over, smirking. “You out here trying to show off?”

Glen rolled his eyes, chuckling as he made his way over to where Tanner and Chord stood, flipping burgers and laughing amongst themselves.

“Long story,” Glen replied with a sheepish grin. 

He nodded toward Gabby, who was chatting with Kayla a few steps away, wearing his button-up shirt. “I, uh… spilled my drink on her by accident. Figured the least I could do was offer her my shirt.”

Chord raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. “Slick move, man,” he joked, nudging Glen. “Because that’s exactly how you impress a girl: by drenching her in fruit punch.”

“Smooth,” Tanner chimed in, barely holding back a laugh. “You should write that down. ‘How to win a girl over, Glen Powell-style: ruin her shirt, then offer her yours.’”

Glen gave a good-natured laugh, shrugging. “Hey, it worked, didn’t it?”

Chord squinted, giving him a skeptical look. “Did it, though?”

They all burst out laughing, Glen running a hand through his hair, looking both amused and slightly self-conscious. He glanced back at Gabby, who caught his eye and smiled, a hint of curiosity in her expression as she looked at him and then back at the three of them.

“Guess you’ll just have to see,” Tanner added, clapping Glen on the shoulder. “You should probably get back over there before she realizes you’re not really that smooth.”

Glen smirked, accepting their playful jabs. “You’re probably right.”

The evening slipped by in a warm, carefree haze as Gabby and Glen gravitated toward each other again and again. They’d drift off to chat with other guests, but soon, she’d feel Glen by her side, making some dry, witty remark that would have her throwing her head back, laughing. His charisma was magnetic; he had this way of drawing her in with just the right mix of humor and charm.

Their conversations flowed effortlessly as they started talking about film. Gabby mentioned how she’d moved to Los Angeles recently, hoping to get her start in the industry. Glen’s eyes lit up in genuine interest, sharing some stories about his own early days, bouncing between roles as an actor, writer, and even producer. His passion for his work was evident, and it sparked something in her, making her want to tell him more about her own aspirations, the kinds of films she wanted to make.

From film, they moved on to travel, comparing notes on cities and countries they’d visited or dreamed of visiting. Both had a fondness for Europe—Italy especially. She talked about a summer she spent in Rome, completely absorbed in the art and food, and Glen shared his own story of wandering the quiet streets of Florence, charmed by the city’s history and beauty.

When they discovered they both had a love for cooking, Glen’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm. “Alright, what’s your go-to meal if you’re trying to impress someone?” he asked, leaning in with an almost mischievous smile.

She thought for a moment, a small grin forming. “Pasta alla vodka,” she admitted. “I swear it’s the recipe my mom taught me, but I’ve added a few tricks of my own over the years. It’s usually a winner.”

He laughed, giving her an impressed nod. “I respect that. But next time, you’ll have to let me try it—then I’ll tell you if it really lives up to the hype.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Only if you make something for me, too.”

Their banter was easy, and each passing hour only seemed to make the chemistry between them more tangible. Gabby couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much in one night, and every time Glen flashed that confident smile, she felt her cheeks flush just a little more.

At one point, she found herself by Kayla’s side as they refilled their drinks. Gabby tried to keep her voice casual, but curiosity got the best of her. “So… what’s Glen’s story?” she asked, glancing over her shoulder where he was talking with Tanner and Chord.

Kayla immediately raised her brows, a knowing smile forming. “What, you interested?”

Gabby’s cheeks reddened, but she shrugged, trying to keep her cool. “He’s interesting, that’s all. I’m just curious.”

Kayla chuckled, giving her a look that suggested she saw right through her. “Alright, well… Glen’s been in the industry for a while. He’s one of those guys who can do a little bit of everything—acting, producing, even some writing. He’s kind of having a moment right now. He’s been good friends with Tanner and Chord for years; they’ve worked together on a few projects. But as far as relationships go, let’s just say he hasn’t really been looking for anything serious lately.”

“Oh.” Gabby tried to mask her disappointment, even though a little twinge of it crept in.

“But,” Kayla added with a wink, “that doesn’t mean you can’t have a good time. And, well, judging by the way he keeps glancing over here, I’d say he’s at least a little interested.”

Gabby felt a mix of excitement and caution. Maybe Glen wasn’t looking for anything serious, but that didn’t mean tonight couldn’t be fun. After all, she’d just moved to LA and was open to meeting new people and making memories.

Meanwhile, across the patio, Glen was in the middle of a conversation with Tanner and Chord, but his gaze drifted toward Gabby as she laughed at something Kayla said.

“Alright, I’ve got to know,” Glen said to Tanner with a smirk, nodding in Gabby’s direction. “Who is she?”

Tanner glanced over, recognizing the interest in Glen’s voice. “Her name’s Gabby. She’s friends with Kayla. They met through a mutual friend and hit it off. Why? Interested?”

Glen laughed, but there was a spark in his eyes. “Not sure yet.”

As the night went on, Glen and Gabby found themselves side by side again. The conversations continued, but there was an added warmth between them now, a spark that lingered as they shared subtle glances and soft smiles.

As the evening began winding down, the air filled with a new kind of energy as Tanner announced that the fireworks show was about to start. Guests began to gather on the lawn, chairs and blankets spread across the grass as they looked up in anticipation. The barbecue’s earlier lively chatter had softened, replaced by a hushed excitement as everyone waited for the first burst of color to light up the night.

Glen spotted Gabby not far off, standing at the edge of the group, her eyes turned toward the sky. Without even thinking, he drifted over to her side, catching her eye just as the first fireworks burst into a spray of red and gold above them.

“Pretty amazing, isn’t it?” he murmured, glancing at her.

She smiled, nodding, her gaze never leaving the display above. “It’s beautiful. And the perfect way to end the night.”

They stood side by side, close enough that their arms brushed as each firework exploded overhead. With each burst, the colorful lights reflected in Gabby’s wide eyes, casting her face in an ethereal glow that held Glen’s attention longer than he’d planned. He found himself caught up in her quiet awe, as if he were seeing the fireworks for the first time himself.

Another firework burst overhead, this one in a brilliant shade of purple, and Gabby looked over at him, catching his gaze. Her expression softened, and she let out a soft laugh, shaking her head.

“What?” Glen asked, smiling.

“Nothing,” she replied, her voice warm and teasing. “I just didn’t expect tonight to go like this.”

“Me neither,” he admitted, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. “Not exactly how I usually try to make a first impression.”

Her laughter mixed with the faint crackle of the fireworks, and Glen felt something shift between them, a quiet understanding as the night grew darker and the crowd grew quieter. When the final firework exploded, painting the sky in shimmering gold, he leaned just a little closer.

“Hey,” he said softly, catching her attention once more. “Would you maybe want to go out sometime? You know, somewhere that doesn’t involve me ruining your clothes.”

Gabby laughed, the sound easy and genuine. She looked up at him, her eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“I think I’d like that,” she replied, a smile lingering on her lips as the last of the fireworks faded into the night sky.

As the last guests began drifting out and the night turned quiet, Gabby made her way back through the house to say her goodbyes. She found Kayla near the patio, chatting with a few friends, and hugged her, thanking her for the invitation and a night she wouldn’t forget. After bidding farewell to Tanner and a few others, she turned to head out, only to find Glen standing nearby, as if he’d been waiting for her.

“Heading out?” he asked, his tone casual but his eyes warm.

She nodded, tucking a stray curl behind her ear. “Yeah, it’s getting late, and I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Mind if I walk you to your car?” Glen offered.

Surprised but pleased, she smiled. “Sure, I’d like that.”

They stepped out into the cool night, the hum of conversation fading as they moved away from the house. The quiet of the street was a stark contrast to the party’s earlier energy, and as they walked, Gabby felt the weight of the evening settle in—a mix of exhilaration and curiosity about where this unexpected connection with Glen might lead.

When they reached her car parked a few houses down, she turned to face him, a smile playing on her lips. “Well, thanks for walking me.”

“Anytime,” he replied with a slight grin. “By the way... about that date we talked about—mind if I get your number?”

She could feel her cheeks warm as she pulled her phone out, exchanging numbers with him, their hands brushing briefly as they made the switch. Just then, Gabby looked down and realized she was still wearing his shirt.

“Oh, I almost forgot—do you want your shirt back?” she asked, tugging at the collar, her smile sheepish.

Glen just shook his head, grinning. “Nah, keep it. Gives me a reason to see you again.” His voice held a playful note, though his gaze was sincere.

She chuckled, glancing down at the shirt she now realized she’d probably end up wearing to bed. “Alright, then. Guess I owe you one.”

As they stood there in the quiet night, an unspoken warmth lingered between them, both hesitant to let the evening end. Gabby took a small breath, then stepped forward, her movements soft but deliberate. She wrapped her arms around Glen, feeling the warmth of his frame envelop her in return. He held her gently, his hands resting on her back in a way that felt both natural and steadying.

The embrace lingered a little longer than a simple goodnight might warrant. She could feel the beat of his heart against her, steady and strong, and for a moment, the world around them seemed to fade. The scent of his cologne, warm with hints of amberwood and bergamot, was even more noticeable now, filling her senses and adding an unexpected intimacy to the moment.

Glen’s hand slid just slightly, almost protectively, over her shoulder as they held onto each other. Gabby felt herself relax against him, the shared silence feeling more like an unspoken promise than a goodbye. As they finally pulled back, his hands stayed on her arms for a beat longer, as if reluctant to fully let her go.

“Goodnight, Gabby,” he said softly, his voice carrying a warmth she hadn’t heard before.

“Goodnight, Glen,” she replied, her gaze lingering on his as a small, shy smile spread across her face.

She took a step back, feeling the lingering warmth of his touch even as she opened her car door. He gave her a small wave as she settled in, his expression holding a softness that told her he’d felt it too—the spark of something just beginning.

[keepittoyourshelf]

Since the algorithm on my various socials thinks I actually want to see a ton of people simping over Rhys and ACOTAR, let’s get down to the bones of why that algorithm is fucked beyond all comprehension, shall we?

I’ve never hidden the fact that I’m pro-Tamlin, not in the sense that I approve of what he did, but from the place that I believe he’s worthy of forgiveness in the same way any of the men that SJM otherwise glorifies in her work is worthy of it for any of their transgressions.

I shouldn’t have to do a paint by numbers thing here to make this obvious, but based on the actual text written by SJM in her own words, Tamlin has objectively done nothing better or worse than Rhysand has.

The big complaint is his temper, of course, and pro-Rhysies love to bullshit about how the red flags were all over book 1 and SJM is such a master at foreshadowing.

He locked Feyre in a house against her will to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be caged. How is that any worse than Rhysand…drugging her and making her give him lap dances, in order to protect her, when she clearly didn’t want to be dancing naked in front of strangers?

Go on. I’ll wait for your rationalization.

Rhysand’s whole shtick was that he’s only playing the villain to keep Velaris (and only Velaris) safe…those fucks in the Hewn City can eat a bag of dicks, right? But tell me again how Tamlin is the really bad one for enforcing a tithe because it’s unfair to those who can’t afford it (fair point). But Rhysand chooses to save the one city in his court that has zero problems. Let’s let those that might already be suffering from poverty get kidnapped and tortured by a psychopath. That’s probably better than a tithe, right?

And let’s not forget how Tamlin mocked Feyre and Rhys at the High Lords meeting. While funny, it was in poor taste. At least Rhysand didn’t publicly mock Tamlin. He had the decency to do it privately when he went out of his way to go to a deeply troubled man’s house and, in the midst of an obvious mental health crisis, not only had the gall to ask for resources from a man that has no resources because his own wife fucking destroyed them out of spite, but proceeds to rub in his triumph over a man that has nothing left. Nothing to see there, right?

Even if you could ignore all of that (and you’d have to be willfully fucking thick to do so, which a lot of these people are), I shall leave you with Tamlin’s role as a spy for Hybern. That’s obviously supposed to be a real shock because TaMliN BaD at this point, so why would anyone believe him? It’s not like he had a really good explanation like Rhys gave when he murdered literal children and innocents just to ensure Amarantha didn’t know how noble he actually was. Right? RIGHT?! And it’s not like anyone would have a harder time believing someone who had played evil and done actually evil things for the “greater good” (a collectivist dog whistle if there ever was one) for fifty fucking years over the dude that suddenly goes bad after being a progressive and respected high lord for the same period of time? I mean, it’s not like we’re dealing with severe mental anguish and trauma here. That’s crazy talk.

Shadow Daddy does no wrong. Even when he does. Because reasons.

Those idiots on TikTok making stupid videos showing their bf’s being all shocked and I KNEW IT when Tamlin “turns” can chew glass along with all those dipshits selling mugs that say “Tamlin’s Tears” on Etsy right next to merch glorifying a man that literally gaslit his soulmate into believing that forced drunken naked lap dances were actually a good thing, when you think about it.

SJM isn’t a master of foreshadowing. She’s a sloppy writer of moderately entertaining fiction that has a kink for glorifying severely unhealthy behaviors without the benefit of a trigger warning.

Fuck off if you think that’s all okay and think that anyone that says Tamlin isn’t any worse comparatively is the crazy one. Projection is a real disorder. Look it up. Right after you order your 543rd Rhysand candle.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Fanfic prompt :Everyone always makes the joke that Wild and Hyrule are the most likely to get kidnapped

But in their literal game mechanics and the lore of the games

Hyrule must run from anyone and trust nobody or someone could hand him over to ganon he definitely is really skittish about trusting anyone but when he sees someone help him he does trust them a bit more (he knows the concept of stranger danger and had to become a master at it or else it was game over)

Wild literally just has to throw a banana and you can almost always tell it is a Yiga even before you even pull out said banana (it is part of the game mechanics after all)

But you know who is the one who actually canonically is the most likely to get kidnapped and not notice it at any point during the entire process

Wind who has jumped on the boat of sketchy old man and pirates during both his adventures

Like he was extremely lucky that nothing ever happened to him

And he probably doesn’t know the concept of stranger danger because nobody on the island is a stranger or dangerous to him how would he even figure out if nobody is telling him about it or showing it

Like the first thing he does when the game starts is run up to a random girl who has fallen from a tree then she turns out to be a pirate and even if she has told him the truth about the kidnapped girls

You don’t jump on the boat of a pirate no matter how nice they seem (for all we know she could have orchestrated this situation to kidnap him and it is pure luck that she was just nice like that )

Essentially because later during the failed heist he gets throw across the sea he literally just wakes up on a different boat with no record of how he got there and instead of alerting anyone (because Wind fell island has a prison so he could have told the guards that a random guy had him on the boat and all that) he breaks fucking tingle out of the cell just to buy a sail for the weird talking boat and then continue on with just the two of them together (like I get desperately trying to save his sister but telling a guard or two that your sister got kidnapped and that you are saving her to make sure that at least a few people will know where you are like grandma definitely doesn’t know that you no longer are with the pirates)

And even more unhinged is the fact that tetra is not a good person at all she has interrogated a guy who wouldn’t sell her bombs which should have tipped Wind of as a red flag she has scammed a rich man out so much that he lives as a beggar with his daughter (also a thing that makes it more vague than ever to know what she would have done to his grandmother like a promise telling him she would bring his sister back safely is very dubious)

Also he canonically has repeatedly went to tingle's tower and asked him to translate the triforce charts (like that is tingle and nothing more has to be said)

Like Wind has the most luck known to mankind

It also somehow gets even worse because during phantom hourglass he and tetra are on the boat (which understandable because she proved that she is someone you can trust and a good friend)

And after waking up on a random beach the first thing you do is go into an old guy’s storage unit to get his sword (and somehow again not get mugged , kidnapped or trafficked because you never go somewhere alone when a single person is aware of it with no weapon especially when someone told you to go there )

Then he went with a different shady guy he just saved at the temple who genuinely looked like a problem in the making (and it was a problem in the making like I love linebeck he is a father figure for wind but also he did have the problem with his ex who wanted to kill him and he looked really shady and you would not have been able to escape if he did kidnap you because you are on the sea )

Like obviously Wind hasn’t learned his Lesson at any point in time because every time it went well

But with Yiga nothing goes well with them

He would probably hold hands with them as well and any other kidnapper would have a very easy catch

He probably joined the chain in less then a second without any form of self awareness (like everyone definitely was nervous with each other but not Wind he heard they said everyone else can sleep while another takes watch and planted his face on a pillow and was just out like that while everyone else was uneasy and didn’t sleep well or also took watch to make sure they won’t be killed in their sleep)

The chain really has to teach him that lesson (for the sake of like literally everything he has ever done because that luck will run out at some point)

Like Warriors definitely is seeing Wind go with literally everyone and not understanding why like that looks like a trauma response (it is just wind with over 12 years never learning about stranger danger and a big misunderstanding but also not really wrong )