#kinda short sorry lol

[untoldstar]

male yandere psychologist x fem patient reader [introduction]

warnings: heavily implied that the reader is a patient at a psych ward, obsessive behaviors and tendencies, abuse of power, toxic environment, yandere themes, might not show in this part but for the future Ivan takes advantage of the readers vulnerable mental state.

There aren’t intense scenes in this at all (as I see it) BUT as for the coming parts of this OC it still has to do with a character who struggles with mental illness, an extremely toxic psychologist who abuses his position and being in a psyche ward so if you feel like any of that sounds triggering or there’s a possibility it could be triggering I would urge you not to read this or other parts of this OC.

pls be careful what you read guys and stay safe mwah🫶

Tick..

Tick..

Tick..

Ivan taps his foot impatiently and pushes up his sleeve for the millionth time to reveal his wristwatch.

2:59 PM

Just a few more seconds..

Tick..

3:00 PM

Ivan smiles, his stiff body finally relaxing and just like everyday a knock is heard on his office door and in walks the nurse pushing you forward like a criminal into his office. He only spares the nurse and nod and a polite smile before his attention is directed at you, focusing on your every move anticipating what you’ll do next. You huff and plop down in the chair in front of his desk rolling your eyes "Ah [name], how are we doing today?" he clasps his hands Infront of him and stares at you expectantly.

Just like everyday.

‘Why does he ask the same question every day? What could possibly change in the matter of a single day? They should've made these cheek-up's weekly instead. This is becoming such a pain.’

"Fine. Just like always." you answer curtly. He hums nodding "Well, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cut to the chase today there’s something I must discuss with you.” You quirk a brow. You have to admit seeing the serious expression instead of the easy going one he usually has is a bit unnerving “I'm sure you already know that your..leave is to be expected soon." his lips twist in displeasure as if merely saying that has left a bitter taste in his mouth. You nod "Yes..what about that?" he sighs "Well, I'm afraid I've come to the decision that you'll have to stay a while longer, just to be safe." Your heart plummets. Sure you haven't been kissing Dr.Ivan's ass or being necessarily..nice to him but that shouldn’t have anything to do with your treatment. You know you've been getting better so what possible reason could have you stay here "Just to be safe? What is that supposed to mean?" you shoot daggers at him but he doesn't seem the least bit bothered by it "We’ve witnessed many patients show signs of improvement and seem like they’re ready to leave but there were also many instances where patients leave our facility and end up..falling into old patterns. Not that I expect that from you but I would like to guarantee your safety." You swallow the lump in your throat. Can they even do that? Is that even legal? "..How long?" a few beats of silence passes by while he blankly stares at you before answering "A month." Your shoulders drop down exasperatedly. Another month??

You feel frustration bubble up inside your chest. You feel hopeless as if you’re never getting out of here. You can’t take it you can’t take seeing the same hallways the same people this same fucking office everyday.

You don't say anything when you get up from your chair and start charging for the door "Our daily check up isn't quite done, my dear." His voice booms behind you "I don't fucking care." You spit back and go to reach for the door when his hands suddenly slam the door on either side of you, trapping you against it "Why are you always trying to leave me?" he whispers his shaky breath fanning against the side of your neck "..What are you talking about..Doc-" his hand clenches into a fist "Don't call me that!" You flinch trembling slightly "..I'm sorry I raised my voice, but I've told you countless times before you don't have to call me 'Doctor' my dear. Ivan is fine." You stay quite and he sighs "You won't even say my name.." he leans his head on your shoulder his body slumping almost exhausted from the interaction.

You hold your breath eyeing the door handle inches away from you "Why do you hate me so much?" his voice almost breaks "You roll your eyes at me, you barely say a few words in our daily sessions, You can't stand it when I go to visit you in your room.." he steps closer, his body now flush against your back "You throw a fit and almost walk out on me.." he moves his head to the side sniffing your hair and you hear him let out a groan “God I thought you’d be happy about staying here. All I want is for you to love me. Why won’t you love me? hm?” his arms slide down for the door to wrap around you squeezing tightly “Am I just the annoying psychologist your forced to talk to? Is that all I am to you?” he keeps talking almost in his own world too intoxicated by you, having you in his arms body flush against his your scent enveloping him “Damnit why won’t you-“ you take advantage of his vulnerability and decide to make a run for it, using the door to push back all of your body weight to at least have his arms off of you immediately taking a hold of the door handle and leaping out of his office, you run down the hall never looking back. You’re surprised he didn’t pull you back in maybe he was shocked maybe he wasn’t and he just..let you go. Whatever the case was you had to get as far away from him as possible.

Ivan’s left alone in his office panting, cheeks flushed and an obvious tent in his pants. He lets out a low chuckle looking far off into the hallway ‘Soon..instead of running away from me you’ll be running to me. I’ll make sure of it darling.’

[elsecrytt]

okay but jjk somnophilia is like

gojo "please please pleaaaaase let me put it in while you're sleeping PLEASE i swear i'll make you cum i proooomise please let's try it once pleeaaase. YOU can put it in ME whenever you want!!! any time any place anything you want in any of my holes!! wake me up with it!! it'll be soooo hot" satoru

vs

nanami "i have kink charts for both of us and they have sliding scales and notes section for each one. we can mark hard boundaries for what state of consciousness we want for ourselves or our partners, giving or receiving, what sex acts, etc. we'll set up a safe word and a safe gesture and then we can start trying things out" kento

vs

geto "sorry i fell asleep while eating you out, it will happen again. no, i won't stop eating you out when i fall unconscious. just tear me off your pussy if you don't like it" suguru

[cookiescribble]

Flufftober Day 20: Paw

A/N: i was half tempted to write this one about Gambit with his cats because we met A.J. LoCascio but i love Dick and Haley entirely too much i’m so sorry - mod ghost

Ship: Dick Grayson x GN!Reader

Summary: Waking up in the middle of the night to a fluffy surprise

You were mostly still asleep when you felt how cold the bed had gotten. Dick must’ve still been out doing his thing as Nightwing then. You shifted and started to get up, rubbing your eyes as you heard the familiar sounds of him getting home.

But then you heard a bark.

That wasn’t usually a sound you heard in your apartment, considering there were no dogs in it, so you were about to investigate when light from outside the room started to shine in. The room was pitch black other than some street lights, since it was the middle of the night, so all you saw was Dick’s silhouette as he opened the bedroom door.

“Hey, sorry…did I wake you up?” Dick, still fully dressed as Nightwing minus the mask, greeted you as he stepped in the door and closed it behind him. He had both of his hands behind his back, clearly holding something that he was hiding from you.

“It’s okay, you didn’t. But what do you have behind your back?” You asked as he stepped closer, clearly watching him struggle with whatever it was. You could’ve sworn you even heard a soft but distinctly dog-like whimper from behind him.

“…Nothing.” Dick grinned, trying to seem innocent.

Another bark, though much louder now, proved that that was a lie.

“Do you have a dog?” You raised an eyebrow and crossed your arms, chuckling at your silly boyfriend.

“…Possibly.” Dick’s grin was more sheepish than before, which made it obvious that he was definitely hiding a dog behind his back.

“Dick, show me the dog! I wanna see the dog, gimme.” You shuffled toward him as he stood at the end of the bed, holding your arms out once you were sitting on your knees in front of him.

“Okay, fine, but be warned; she’s very cute.” He pulled the puppy from behind his back, revealing a three-legged gray and white pitbull who immediately pushed herself from Dick’s hand into your arms.

You caught her immediately, petting her as she licked at your face which made you laugh. “Oh my god, she’s adorable! Where did you get her??”

“She was getting attacked by some bullies on the street because she’s only got three of her legs,” he scratched the top of her head as he spoke, “so I did as any vigilante worth his salt would do, I saved her.”

“Can we keep her??” You asked excitedly, your eyes briefly leaving the dog to look at him.

“I don’t see why not?? She doesn’t have a collar or anything. I kinda may have already picked out a name for her, too.” He laughed, watching how you interact with the puppy with the look of an idiot in love.

“Really?? What is it?” You weren’t at all surprised that he’d already become that attached to her, Dick had the biggest heart of anyone you’d known.

“Haley, I think it really suits her.” Dick spoke fondly, petting her back as she settled in your lap.

“Aww, I really like that. Welcome to the apartment, Haley Grayson.”

[ask-the-colony-tree-siblings]

Part two ended up being REALLY long, so I cut it in half. Hopefully it won’t take me too long to do the second part lol.

here’s the link to the first part if u wanna refresh your memory or didn’t see it lol :3

Hunter: I… I guess I haven’t really… told you stuff either. I’ve been mad at you for stuff you don’t even know about.

Gourmand: You guys are making really good progress already! Let’s try to get to the bottom of why you two don’t get along. Hunter, what did Artificer do to make you dislike her?

Hunter: …She was always a jerk when we were kids, and she ran off without even saying goodbye. I almost rotted to permadeath because of her.

Arti: I didn’t-!

Gourmand: Artificer. Please explain yourside without getting mad.

Arti: …Fine. I was a jerk, that’s true. So why was me leaving such an issue? You were probably better off.

Hunter: Why would I have been better off? Do you have any idea how hard it was to do our job by myself? You made up the majority of our firepower, I was nowhere near as efficient without you. I still had to do the exact same job, and I was expected to be able to do it just as well as we did when we worked together. 

Gourmand: Guys, try to keep the peace-

Arti: NSH would have known you wouldn’t be as good a messenger on your own. I’m sure he was happy that you were still there at least. 

[pines4thetwin]

As promised, here's that fusion post for the three people that asked for it (drops it and runs).

Ford thinks of himself and Stan as one, an extension of each other, and lowkey hates that its not true nor possible.

And Mabel really shouldn't have shown him Steven Universe because now he's obsessing over the concept of fusions and his desire to be one with stan.

Now lets say this is Pre-Weird and everything is still tense between them and they aren't exactly talking but despite that ford still wants to be close and he knows stan does too.

He can see it in the broken resigned looks Stan keeps throwing his way. And listen, Ford isn't the best at communication but he can fix this. He may still be angry and self righteous and an asshole but he can fix them.

So now he spends an even more absurd amount of time in the lab trying to making it his reality and entirely disregards his base needs to the point even dipper is concerned.

He has a journal dedicated to this idea where he keeps all his notes and theories on how to make it possible. Would he have to alter their DNA for it to work or could it be possible for them as they are?

While doing the tests and research for his fixation he remembers a dimension he briefly travelled to back when he was younger and fresh through the portal. One where this concept, his desire, his fantasy, his wish was real. A dimension where it was was their culture, their way of life. And while he did think it was interesting then, he was young and angry and raw with unrestrained hurt. Too emotional to stop and study the practice the way he should have.

He beats himself up over it now. If only he had been thinking more logically him and stan could be one already. They wouldn't have to be so... apart.

He doesn't have time to dwell on his shortcomings though. He has to figure this out. He doesn't know exactly why but he feels like he's running out of time. Like he has to do this now or he'll never have the chance again.

Eventually he has his prototype and it functions well... enough. He just has one more trial to run. Except Stan comes down to check on him. 'Worried ford isn't taking care of himself properly.' or something like that.

And honestly, Stan in his space is the last thing he expects because they have an unspoken agreement. Stan roams above and Ford stays down here. And when they cross paths they both look the other way.

But stan is here and yes Ford is annoyed at first but this also means he doesn't have to go seek stan out.

"I told you to stay- wait actually this is perfect. We'll do it now," Ford fiddles with his device, turning it on and he really isn't thinking right anymore. He know the device works and that's all that matters.

"Do what now? Stanford, what is that," And Stan is kinda terrified because Ford looks... well he looks kinda like how he did decades ago when he had sent that postcard and Stan had come running because well, its Ford.

Ford looks insane, primal and unhinged, like he hasn't seen the light of day in weeks. And Dipper had told Stan, had been worried but Stan brushed it off because Ford locking himself in the lab and avoiding everybody, avoiding him wasn't a new development.

But now Stan’s worried because that wild-eyed look is directed at him again and the cowardly little animal in him is screaming at him to run.

It’s like Ford knows what he's thinking because before Stan has a chance to decide if he's going to shut down or entertain that scared little animal, Ford is grasping at him and pulling him deeper into the dingy little basement.

Stan trips and he fully expects his back to hit the floor but fords got and arm wrapped low on his back that keeps him from falling fully. And stan's hand is also tangled in fords sweater so even if Ford had let him fall, well they would have gone down together.

But then he catches sight of that thing again and it looks vaguely like a gun and why did he have to get saddled with the insane twin? He doesn't even have time to flinch because a bright light floods his vision and he blanks.

For a second, Stan's mind goes black and there's a strange humming in his ears. But then he hears a laugh he hasn't heard in forever. Soft and joyous and for a moment stan smiles. It's Ford's laugh.

Because he and Stan become one. And everything is warm and bright and as it should be. For a moment everything is right. It feels like coming home.

His-Their eyes open and Ford's confused? No, Stans confused.

"Sixer? Lee?" Their voice says, soft and bewildered. They look around, searching for each other. Stan? Ford? Where did they go? They look down and their vision swims. Four hands, five fingers? Six? It all blurs together.

Is this me, they think as one. Finally as one. Four hands run up the sides of their one body then stretch out for their wide eyes to view. Ford can feel his giddiness rising unbidden. And a whisper from Stan, rising to meet Ford. Uncertain but matching nonetheless.

Finally

Finally together... Finally fixed... Finally right.

They spin slowly, as if that will give them a better view of what they are now, and they catch their reflection in some dim glass. Ford wants to smile but their face drops, eyes horrified.

"What did you do," Stan says, voice a cutting accusation. Nausea erupts in their stomach. And that isn't right. Why isn't it right?

Something is wrong. Everything is so very wrong. Ford's head hurts. Or is it Stans. He doesn't know. They can't tell.

"I fixed it. I fixed us," Ford says and it isn't right either. Why is it still so wrong? Stan is angry. But why is he angry? Why aren't they happy? They're together. After all this time they're finally together again.

Ford can feel Stan pulling away. It's like their mind is splitting in two. Hot searing pain shoots through their head, four eyes closing when the world starts to spin.

Ford grasps ahold of stan and refuses to let go. He can't let Stan ruin this, ruin them. He will not let Stan destroy everything he's worked towards again. They've been apart for so long- too long but not anymore. Besides, this is for them. Stan will just have to understand. They are one now. Broken and wrong but one nonetheless.

"Let me go," They yell, tugging apart furiously. Their shape shifts and distorts but doesn't split. Ford won't let them. They snap back together painfully, stumbling on two bulky legs, one that branches into two feet. Wrong.

"No! This is what we wanted right," their voice bellows, loud and angry and wrong. So very wrong. "For us to be together. Always together."

They grip at their hair as if trying to pull themselves back apart. Stan.

"Not like this. I never asked for this." they shout back, voice sharp and hurt and why aren't they happy now. They should be happy. This is right. This is how they are meant to be.

Even as the anger and hurt courses through their entire being, Ford knows he wouldn't want to be any other way. Stan's angry and scared but at least they're one. They're shattered and hurting but even then some small part burns in them, it's a tiny little ember but it's both of them and it says yes.

Another set of hands reach for the ones in their hair, pulling them out and restraining them. Betrayal spikes, scorching and increasing rapidly even after years of dormancy. Ford.

"Stop being so ungrateful! You're always so-." angry tears spill from their eyes. Decades of hurt and anger and resentment spill forth to mix into a sense numbing cocktail but most of all they feel alone. So very alone. Them.

They grapple and struggle and Ford's device glints from the corner of their eyes. Ford can feel Stan's intent before their body even moves. Being one now, it's like their minds have melded which means Stan knows the device's purpose. And he intends to separate them.

"NO!" Ford bellows, voice priggish and angry, hurt tinting the singular word so strongly that their body stalls. Why would stan- Why doesn't he want them to be together?

"Grunkle Stan?" Their head whips to the left, eyes locking with a confused and tired Mabel’s. Their focus splits, body jerking in an awkward aborted movement as Stan tries to move forward and Ford holds him back.

“Pumpkin grab that- Mabel don't-” And why can they never agree on anything. When did everything go so wrong? 

Flashes of being in this very lab, so long ago- but no, it was before that even.

Mabel stares at them, scared and confused and stan has never wanted her to look at him like that ever. But Ford doesn't register it because for a moment, one split second, Stan stops fighting him. 

They don't hesitate to rush forward, very much intent on destroying their creation before it has a chance to be used against them. To hurt them.

Two small hands wrap around it before they can get ahold of it. Mabel clutches it to her chest, watching them with something too close to fear. They freeze in place, hands raising in surrender.

"Sweetie," Falls from their lips, pleading. For what though, they aren't quite sure. Because their mind, it should be one yet it isn't. It's at odds, fragmented by a fear and necessity that clash so strongly it could tear universes apart.

“Press the green- Don't you dare-” They speak at once, words and thoughts overlapping. Large hands cover their mouth, two others gripping uselessly at wrist that refuse to budge, because regardless of whatever insanity that has plagued Fords mind to make them act this way, Stan will not let their voice- their words even hint at a threat towards Mabel.

Mabel's head bobs, looking from them down to the thing in her hands, unsure of what to do. Stan nods, eyes pleading.

Ford lashes out, angry and hurt and thrashing like a wild dog. 'Stanley please no. Why don't you want us to be-' Stan is retreating, silent and distant. 'Lee. LEE!'

Everything goes dark.

Ford rises slowly, head spinning and ears ringing. He has the worst headache he has ever experienced. He stares at his hands, splayed on the floor. Two hands, six fingers. Wrong.

His head whips up and his gaze finds Stan's crumpled form across from him on the floor. Stan's glaring at him, thick angry tears spilling down red cheeks.

No. No!

His head turns slowly and his eyes fall on Mabel. Mabel who is standing with his prototype in shaky hands looking between a separated Ford and Stan. He... failed. And now they're...

Apart.

Broken.

Wrong.

[oceanwithouthermoon]

one of my favorite (/sarcastic but not really cuz its like funny idk) things in fandoms is when people make ocs or self inserts or 'x readers' being shipped with characters, but the oc/sona/reader is literally just another character from the source material.. its like youre shipping the characters but didnt want to admit it, so you made a kinsona and branded it as something else..

and its NEVER subtle, actually its super blatant every time and im always shocked when nobody points it out..

i have seen uncountable saiki k x readers where the description is like:

"saiki meets someone whose thoughts he cant read for the first time, and even though he doesnt trust her at first, she keeps proving that she is kind and has good intentions!" you mean nendo? reader is girl nendo?

"this time, he meets a girl whose thoughts honestly match up with her spoken words almost perfectly for the first time!" hairo. youre shipping saiki with girl hairo.

"saiki meets someone whose thoughts are too fast and jumbled to re-" ITS AKECHI, THATS AKECHI, ITS LITERALLY AKECHI.

"saiki meets someone whose just as immune to teruhashi as he is for the first and only tim-" this is hairo again, awe bae you secretly LOVE haisai ?!?

"saiki sees his old childhood friend for the first time in years after an incident caused them to be apart and then they fall in lov-" WHY DID YOU EVEN WRITE THIS AND NOT CALL IT SAIKECHI.

its even funnier when they say its like that characters little sister, but the way they write it is still literally just the character, like their personality, dialogue, even their relationship, is the same..

not all of them fit this exactly, but the ones that take a boy character and turn them into a girl oc to ship them with a boy, it reminds of how in equestria girls they couldnt make applejack and rarity endgame so they gave them boyfriends who looked IDENTICAL to each other.. thats what youre creating, guys, youre creating heterosexual rarijack.

[human-encounters-diary]

Day 16

As the human and I did not share any duties during this particular cycle, I decided now might be a fitting time to inform the Vitrichl about the aforementioned book, which could possibly grant a further insight into Terrans.

Despite the quite serious circumstances we are currently in, I was able to secure a time frame to initiate a conversation regarding this topic.

I repeated the information V-7 had been able to conjure on this as well as other stories and reports on humans.

"There seems to be one…obstacle, though: The book‘s last documented location is in system Skė-51-33, which does not seem to be even remotely near our current route.", I eludicated.

The Vitrichl seemed to consider the information given, keeping in mind the reason the SIIR Noxos usually avoids this particular system: its unfriendly and occasionally aggressive nature.

Concluding, I was able to convince the Vitrichl through the benefits this book could provide in the task of studying humans, causing the Vitrichl to eludicate that changing the route was currently not possible, but as soon as the chance was offered to us, we would make a short detour through this system to retrieve said book, given that the book was still located there.

In the meantime, I was tasked with retrieving as much possible information on this particular and other sources about humans.

Our arrival on Fendaar is imminent, as we are nearing the planet‘s atmosphere. Further reports will follow.

[turning-monday-blue]

Sweets (1/?)

The snugness was barely tolerable. She had overestimated herself. She looked surreptitiously over her shoulder and ducked around a corner. The only thing following her were her bad decisions, but she felt chased all the same.

Okay. Calm down. Breathe (but not too deep). Evaluate the situation. What are your options? Can you loosen anything?

She looked down at herself. Past her swollen breasts, past a fluffy roll of upper belly, she examined her waistline. Nope. The button was the only thing keeping the zipper together, and vice versa. For the millionth time, she lamented her morning. What a bright idea, interviewing for a job with a snack company. She was very well aware of how sweets affected her.

Could she find somewhere discrete to wait out her... little metabolic mishap? She looked around for a discrete nook to accommodate her fresh bulk.

The little atrium she had found had a series of plush benches around the walls. She sighed and headed for the one in the corner. She sucked in as best she could and sat down. Some horny little corner of her mind made note of how it felt as her tight belly shifted against her puffy thighs.

Sitting like this, only barely upright lest bending too far compromise her jeans, she couldn't ignore how her waistband was trying to cut her in half. She thought back to how she had done this to herself. The lovely HR manager had very explicitly pointed out the basket of the company's sugary offerings there in the middle of interview table. The woman had been insistent that she try at least one of each, gushing like any good salesperson about their rich flavors and subtle textures, occasionally even peeling one out of its wrapper and handing it to her.

How could she have done anything but eat what was offered to her? And by a beautiful woman, no less. She knew how her body reacted to food like this, but she had been desperate to make a good impression, to look good and eager and employable. A good girl. She ignored that last thought, and the accompanying shiver through her frazzled tummy.

She closed her eyes and tried to steady herself. Breathe in through the nose and out through the mouth (but not too deeply). All she had to do was calm down, and give her body a chance to do the same. Then she could find a back door to sneak out of, go home and hope that somehow that she hadn't blown the interview.

She opened her eyes again and caught sight of herself in a mirror across the room. Holy crap, she was huge. She had been her normal, narrow self, and her outfit had fit very very normally, when she had arrived. But now? Now it looked positively painted onto her. Her breasts were trying to spill out of her tastefully exposed bra and over the lapel of her blouse. She was more balloon than woman at this point. She ignored another tingle.

As she watched herself in the mirror, she noticed something change. Slowly but surely, the last wrinkle in her blouse smoothed out. Uh oh. That meant... she was still filling out. Panic. She tingled again.

No. No. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). She closed her eyes again, and could feel her plump body quietly grow. Crap.

Panic. Calm. Breathe (but not too deep). Calm.

Maybe if she didn't look, it would go away. That had never worked before, sure, but there's a first time for everything, right?

As she rationalized to herself, she noticed the sound of heels clacking towards her hiding spot. Panic!

Maybe their owner would pass and not notice her?

No such luck.

The woman who had interviewed her rounded the corner.

"There you are!"

She struggled to stand. So tight.

"You left your purse upstairs. I get it, though. Interviews can be pretty stressful, huh?"

Like nothing had changed. Did this woman not notice that she was currently three times the size she was when she had shown up? Could this woman not hear every seam in her clothes creaking in harmony? Could the woman not see how wide and deep and round she was becoming?

"It's such a beautiful handbag, I almost wanted to keep it for myself!" The woman laughed. "Oh well."

She took the bag from the woman. "O-oh! Thank you!" Leapt out of her.

"Listen," said the woman, "technically I have to review a few other candidates, but I think you're a shoo-in for the position." The woman moved closer. "No one else has shown so much... enthusiasm." Closer still. She basked in the smell of the woman's musky perfume.

"Oh... that's great!" she managed to squeak out.

"In fact," the woman continued, "if you'd like to come back upstairs, we can have you fill out the onboarding paperwork now, so you don't have to come back just to fill out some forms if... when we give you the job." So close now.

"Um! Okay!" What.

The woman placed a gentle hand on the side of her massive, tight, growing belly. "Listen, between you and me, that passion you showed today will take you far with us. Do you feel like the offer is fair? We can negotiate further if you need." The woman's eyes were so sincere.

What was going on here? She could barely think.

The woman placed her other hand on top of her belly, well hidden by her burgeoning breasts. "I do hope you'll say yes."

"Um..."

There was a pop. Her button pinged away across the room from her overburdened jeans. It made a little thwack sound as it hit the far wall. Her zipper flew down, zizzing audibly. Her belly erupted through the breach. Her blouse retreated upwards. The tingling became a roar. All the while, the woman, as though no tectonic shifts were happening right there and then, continued to implore with borderline puppydog eyes.

The world held its breath with her. How had this woman not reacted to any of that?! What? Was the woman still waiting for an answer?

"...okay?" She tried. She wasn't sure if her brain was still working. "Sure?" Best to stick to small sentences.

"Yay!" cheered the woman, "I really think you'll love it here!" The woman launched in for a quick hug around her exposed belly. The woman's arms didn't go even halfway around her. And still the woman didn't seem to notice that anything was wrong.

"Well! If you'll follow me back to the elevators, we can at least get the formalities out of the way."

The woman took her by the hand and pulled, still gentle. She followed, mutely. Even the horniest, shamiest corners of her mind were silent, waiting with bated breath.

As they reached the elevators, the woman pushed the up button and stood to the side. "Please," said the woman, "after you!"

On autopilot now, she stepped into the elevator and... wedged into the door. Stuck. What. Panic? Calm? The elevator dinged again as if to say "I'm waiting!"

The cold of the elevator doors brought her back to reality. She put a hand on either side of herself and tried to pull herself in. As though this were somehow normal, the woman chirped "Oh, here, let me help!"

She felt a gentle pair of hands press into her oceanic bottom. Her horny brain thrilled again. She clamped down on those thoughts. No time to be a pervert.

Between the two of them, they muscled her into the elevator. She turned to face the doors in time to watch the woman press into her in order to let the doors close. Normally equipped for eight full-sized human adults, due to her immensity, it very barely fit two.

"We need floor thirty," said the woman into her barely contained cleavage. She tried to reach for the panel of buttons, but by now there was simply too much of her in the way.

"I've got it," said the woman, reaching behind her without looking.

They rode the thirty floors quietly. She could feel herself still widening, pressing towards the walls of the elevator car. Her embarrassment had burnt out, leaving only a kind of stunned peace in her mind. She tried to will her body away from the woman, but where else could it really go?

By the time they reached their destination, the woman was firmly pressed against the doors, still showing no indication of the extra-ordinariness of the situation.

As the doors opened, the woman stepped back, grabbed her hands, and pulled as she tried to wiggle through the door. Eventually she floomped through, and they set off toward the HR suite.

Full-on waddling now, she felt an inner tension release. She had stopped growing. Relief. If nothing else, at least things had stopped getting worse. Sure, she was almost round enough to roll. Tingle. Sure, her clothing had been reduced to barely covering her... rude areas. Tingle. Sure, a beautiful woman was acting as though this was all perfectly normal. Tingle tingle tingle. But hey, at least it finally wasn't getting worse.

The woman pushed open the double doors to the HR suite and welcomed her in with another glittering smile. They seemed to be the only ones there. The woman led her, patiently, to the front desk area. The woman ducked behind the desk, looking for something.

"Hmm, it looks like I'll need to go print off more some more copies of the forms. Shouldn't take more than a minute or two." Finally she'd have a moment to collect herself.

Then the woman produced a basket, laden with various goodies, from underneath the desk. "Here! Help yourself, sorry to make you wait." Uh.

"Oh, here, allow me," said the woman, picking out a chocolate confection, peeling it, and pressing it into her mouth. "I'll be right back!"

She chewed and swallowed the treat.

Uh oh.

[imadhatt3r]

It's a late Friday evening in Midorijima, and that means that it's time for the weekly Benishigure meetup at the Black Needle. It's always a good opportunity to meet new members, get drunk, and have some fun with the other guys you'd usually miss due to conflicting schedules. Today's meeting is a bit more special- Aoba decided to join in, which he doesn't always do. He's the boss' boyfriend, but he's not officially a member himself- he has, however, gotten close to the gang in the time they've been together, so everyone just treats him like an honorary Benishigure, which both makes him happy, in a way, and annoys him to no end, given all the attention he recieves and the fact that he's a subject of never-ending jokes and bits (in a friendly way, of course).

Everyone's a bit drunk by now, laughing and toasting for anything that comes to their heads, no matter how small and insignificant. Koujaku is smoking a cigarette and sipping on his sake, taking it all in and quietly enjoying seeing the people he brought together. Aoba had a bit to drink too; He rarely does, but something tempted him to drink today- perhaps a desire to join in and fully enjoy the atmosphere was stronger than his usual convictions.

The conversation turns to relationships, as it always does at some point when a group of drunks congregates.

"Wait, how long have you two been together? Like, a year?" One of the Benishigures asks as he turns to Aoba and Koujaku. "That's pretty impressive, I gotta admit- it's probably the longest anyone stayed with Koujaku"

He barks a laugh, like he was suprised at how funny he found his own joke. Aoba looks at Koujaku with suspicion, but he only responds with a grin and a sly look in his eye- completely unmoving, cigarette still held in his teeth.

"You thought about tying the knot yet? I'm telling ya, if you managed to keep him around for a year, that means you gotta have something special going on."

"I doubt any shrine would be willing to do the ceremony for two guys." Aoba rolls his eyes. He's mostly trying to convince himself; Both he and Koujaku are respected in their local community, so he has no doubt that their potential union would be honored. He thinks that this whole "being in a relationship with a man" had sunken into his mind by now, but in moments like these, he really worries that he will never internalize it fully.

"Since when do you need a shrine?" The Benishigure snorts dismissively and waves his hand around with no grace at all; His eyes have a spark in them that already tells Aoba that he came up with something only a drunk could make up. "You're already with your friends and family, right...? And everyone's wasted on sake...? All we need now is for the lovebirds to smooch." He grins. "I can even be your official, if you want"

He raises his mug, beer and froth sloshing with his uncoordinated movements and begins to chant "KISS! KISS! KISS!", his yell echoing through the bar. All the other members at the table quickly abandon whatever they were talking about and join in, not knowing what they're cheering for, but knowing that it's paramount to see their leader and his boyfriend make out at the table this instant.

This unrest finally rouses Koujaku. He knows that Aoba doesn't enjoy being the center of attention, and especially not when he's being goaded into doing something by a bunch of rowdy, drunk dudes. He usually trusts his men to know when to cool it when it comes to teasing Aoba, but it seems like alcohol might've clouded their judgement.

He grabs his cigarette between his slender fingers and opens his mouth to speak. Before he manages to make a single sound, Aoba is pressing his lips against his, tasting the smoky flavor of the kiss. The room erupts in cheers, and the clinking of glasses and mugs raised in toast adds to his overwhelmed state.

In a way though, Koujaku is oddly gleeful about it all; He never expected to get married, or at least not like that- when he was younger, he'd probably imagine a serious, grim ceremony where he's forced to marry a girl he never saw before, one that was chosen by his father in order to strenghten their family's position in the criminal underword. Nowdays he has no family he could invite to such a ceremony, but the Benishigure are the closest thing he has, and he loves them like he would his own blood, so getting married while listening to their howls and cheers is probably how he'd like it to go anyway. As for Aoba... Being able to be around him in any capacity was a dream come true; Koujaku knew that he himself is never going anywhere anyway. But thinking about Aoba pledging his loyalty to him with such fervor, and in front of so many other people... He's just happy he's not a crying kind of drunk. Instead, he chooses to cup Aoba's head with his free hand, gently rustling the short, stiff hair right at his hairline.

On the next day, Aoba doesn't talk about the kiss, but when Koujaku tries to talk to him about it, he can see that Aoba remembers it all happening by the way he stammers, badly puts on a facade and downplays the whole event. Koujaku just laughs; He knows that Aoba needs to process it- he knows him well enough to know how he behaves after events like this, and Koujaku is, if nothing, a patient man. Besides, Aoba was always adorable when he was in that part of processing something, so he really doesn't mind.

Benishigure who are "in the know" sometimes call Aoba "bride" to mess with him, or ask Koujaku to say hi to his "wifey" from them. Mizuki finds out from them through rumors that the Black Needle hosted their very first wedding/reception when he happened to have a night off and he can't live that down. As for Aoba and Koujaku, they don't really consider themselves an officially married couple, but the bit is nicer to carry out than they thought- jokingly talking to eachother like an old married couple comes to them more naturally and is more fun than either has expected.

[brrrkdslek]

BLING BLING～

🂱 moments of ateez' 9th member, m/n, atinys specifically adore!

🂱 ateez x gn! 9th member! reader

🂱 wrote this at 1am LMFAOO

clip 1 ― m/n before stage!!!

"heyyy, i'm getting ready to go onstage~" you set your phone down and step backwards for a few steps before doing a little twirl in your black suit, as if it was a skirt. "what event are you doing?" you read out a question, "ah, i was actually picked to be a pianist for the orchestra. it's gonna be my turn soon so i need to practice the piece."

you pull out your laptop and began to play robeats on it, confusing the atinys. "yes, i am practicing right now." you turn your laptop to show them your screen, "it's flight of the bumblebee, so i'm technically practicing!" atinys booed in your comments as you bursh out laughing, "alright, fine! i'll be fine anyways!"

clip 2 ― san gets scolded by m/n noona

"okay so i am working on the designs for the new comeback and i'm so excited to show you guys soon!" you squealed in delight as san tried to open the plastic box, blinking at it when it didn't budge.

"also the colours are- san, move the drinks or you'll knock them down." he groaned while trying to pry the box open, almost pulling a muscle. "i'm hungry san, what's taking so long?" you rest your cheek on your hand as you scroll on your phone.

"san for the last time, move the drinks or they'll-" as if on cue, san successfully pries the box open. the consequence was that the dumplings inside flew out at how violently he pried it, along with the two cans of drinks that spilled on the ground, staining the carpet in the process.

you toss your phone onto the table and rubbed your temple in frustration. "hyung-" "come here." san immediately turn around and stuck his ass in your direction, the comments coming in twice as fast as it did. you smacked his ass harshly, "i told you to move the drinks, didn't i?"

"sorry..." he mumbled sadly, "i know, but now we'll starve until tomorrow afternoon." you laid back against the chair and cried internally, san sitting back down and leaning onto you your shoulder.

clip 3 ― burning hot noona

you washed the dishes with your phone propped above the sink, chatting with the atinys. "ah, yes. i did contribute in the costuming for guerrilla and halazia, it was really challenging as..."

atinys watched wooyoung walk into the kitchen and grab a coke from the fridge before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing your cheek, pulling away with a loud 'chuu'. atinys squealed at the adorable interaction in the comments.

"yah, i'm older than you woo." you smiled despite your playful tone, "aw, that's right. m/n noona!" the two giggled before wooyoung reached to wash his hands in the sink, screaming loudly when the water hit his hands.

"AHH, WHY IS IT SO HOT!?" wooyoung cried as he gripped and blew air onto his reddening hand. jongho could be heard snickering in the background, "don't you know our noona uses boiling hot water to wash dishes?" you frowned, "yeah, cause it washes the oil off easily."

you turn the water off and grab a few ice cubes from the freezer, placing them into wooyoung's hands and kissing his cheek. "aww, sorry jagi..." he licked your cheek before dashing into the living room , "YAH JUNG WOOYOUNG!"

clip 4 ― message to my lovely members! <3

you sat idly in the hotel room as you watched the number of viewers rise up, recognising seonghwa's disguise account. a notification popped up as you read it, 'minki pinki: we are watching ur live from hyung's phone, miss u!'

you smiled, "hey, my atinys! did you guys miss me? i missed you so much!" you hug your plush tightly against your chest as you read all the nice and loving comments from your fans.

"i also hope my members are doing fine without me!" you fixed some things on your desk before reading out some comments, "you must be worried since you're the big sister of the group," you giggled, "when will you guys stop making me the big sister? at least, make me a man again!"

"well, i think i am worried. i mean i miss them so much, and i hate to admit but it's really lonely without them here. yeah, filming is fun and all but it'd be way more fun if i had my members with me right now."

"also, i left some homemade slushies in the fridge for my dear members! please have some, i know you guys are working hard!" a notification sounds from your phone, 'staff: scene 29 in three hours so you should get ready.' you sighed, "well, i gotta go now. love you!"

©BRRRKDSLEK 2023

[devotion-disorder]

digging through my files and found these wips of remy and avery from last year!! that i completely forgot about but its been too long and i'll never fully finish them... so here they are lol

[silverislander]

day 22: bridge

"come on."

"i am not doing that."

"caitlyn, just trust me."

"i do. i'm still not- i won't be putting that in my mouth."

"you put worse in your mouth last night when i-"

caitlyn smacks her girlfriend's shoulder and vi breaks into laughter.

"i'm serious, cait," she pleads, still grinning like she's not. "just give it a shot. if you don't like it, i'll eat the rest! it won't go to waste!"

"i'm not worried about it going to waste, vi, i'm worried about-" she lowers her voice, looking to the nearby workers, who are starting to stare. "about food poisoning, or getting some sort of disease."

vi sighs just a little too loudly, swirling the- stew? sauce?- around in her bowl. "can't believe our own sheriff would say such a horrible thing-"

"oh, come off it."

"about zaunite cuisine, really just so-"

"vi, stop."

"rude of her-"

"alright!" caitlyn relents. "alright, i'll try it."

vi's making a face like a puppy who's overheard the word "treat". "really?"

"yes. fine. just- give it here."

vi passes the bowl over. caitlyn's not particularly squeamish, but- well, she's always been of the opinion that her food should never move of its own accord, and the chunks of meat definitely seem a little too... squirmy.

as it stood, though, there was no other option, and so she turns to another longstanding principle: her father had once taught her that if one has to eat a live frog, one should do it first thing in the morning, because nothing worse could possibly happen to them for the rest of the day. it's important to her as both the sheriff and as vi's girlfriend that she experience zaunite culture, and food is part of culture, and so therefore, this is a necessary step.

before she can think more about it, caitlyn stabs her fork- her one demand was that she not eat with her hands- into one of the tentacles, takes the largest bite she can and looks intently away from the bowl as she chews. as she does, vi cheers and raises her glass of water, laughing harder.

"and? what do you think?" she prods.

it's sweet and only a tiny bit salty. not rubbery at all, actually. the sauce is a little bit spicy, not even approaching the limit of what caitlyn could handle.

"it's... good," she allows.

"told you."

"oh, shut up."

[luminique]

Imagine lighter with a s/o who has a rbf (looks pissed off 24/7) but in reality they're actually really conscious about it and tries to look more "appealing" as they would think. And like almost after everytime they would talk to another person they'd be like "I'm sorry if I was so awkward" cause they're just THAT conscious of themselves😭

literally the combo of the century with lighter i fear. lighter and his attempts to be mysterious with rbf s/o who probably seems intimidating but is very much not.

i definitely think with how lighter tends to be behind everyone, watching from afar, he would be able to notice the little changes his s/o makes. the way their shoulder tenses up, the awkward smile and forced laughter to not seem too mean. he knows (and like everyone else who has interacted with them) that s/o is genuinely a nice person but is misjudged just because of their face.

i also imagine that he wouldn’t try to actively change s/o unless they told him otherwise. also because he loves his s/o no matter what and if other people aren’t willing to look past their facial expression to see that they’re so much more, then wouldn’t that be better for him? spreading my lighter does get a little jealous/possessive thoughts mhm

[the-ghostly-butterfly]

Snippet 1.5

Previous

An accumulation of Henchman's nerves, curiosity, and isolation left them reaching for the TV remote and flicking on the news; if they were supposed to stay here, they may as well figure out what's going on outside. They weren't quite sure what to expect when they flipped to the right channel. At worst, they expected a detailed account of how Hero had beaten them to a pulp the previous day, and at best a dull prediction of the weather.

What they hadn't expected was a picture of the hero's face: bruised, blood, and scared. It was such a surprise Henchman merely blinked in silence for the first few moments, utterly failing to digest any of the words coming out of the reporter's mouth. Villain had to have been the one to do it. They hadn't heard of any other villains causing Hero so much trouble, and they knew they were incapable of doing that themself. Hell, in the previous battle, they'd barely managed to land a single hit on the damn Hero.

The TV flicked off suddenly. Henchman turned around, confused, until their focus settled on Villain's face in the doorway. They held the unplugged TV cord in one hand, and a small bag in the other. "We need to speak. In my office, if you don't mind." Henchman nodded numbly, and within a blink they were sat in Villain's office again.

"Hey," Henchman said, then immediately kicked themself, but Villain's lips quirked into a small smile, and when they drew closer, Henchman couldn't help noticing how they smelled of night air and coconut-vanilla body spray, which was their second favorite perfume, but very similar to one Henchman always wore.

"Hey," Villain responded, a teasing light in their eyes as they stopped within arm's reach of Henchman. "Are you feeling alright?" They asked softly, folding their hands together behind their back after dropping the TV cord and placing the small paper bag on the bedside table.

The proximity brought a faint burning to Henchman's cheeks, which prompted them to break the silence. Sitting up straighter, they spoke with a croaky voice. "I'm sorry--"

"Wait."

The Villain's soft voice was all it took to silence the breath in Henchman's lungs and steal the rest of their words off of their tongue.

"If there is an apology in order, it is one of me to you. I believe my anger was misdirected when we spoke earlier." Villain's cheeks were pinker than usual, though Henchman wasn't completely sure they weren't imagining it. Villain cleared their throat. "I... I wasn't angry with you; just frustrated at the situation. I didn't mean to cause you panic."

Henchman wasn't imagining it; Villain was absolutely blushing. Which was good, because so were they. Met with silence, Henchman floundered for something else to say in reply. They should probably attempt their own apology again, or accept Villains, but their mouth was full of marshmallows and their tongue was made of lead until,

"Did I misread anger for anxiety?" Villain offers, and they look embarrassed with themself.

---

I thought I knew them better than that. Villain knew they were making a horrible mess of the entire situation, but Right Hand made it clear on no uncertain terms that if they had to watch Villain beat around the bush with Henchman anymore they'd shave off their eyebrows in their sleep, then make them confess, which was an infinitely worse situation that Villain was doing their best not to image.

Henchman shook their head slightly, then their eyes widened a little as they shook off the silence they'd fallen into. "No, not at all. I just--I wasn't expecting you to say that. I was pretty sure you were pissed at me."

It's a herculean effort to stop the sigh of relief from swooshing out of Villain's lungs, and the burning blush they were hoping Henchman hadn't clocked faded just the slightest bit. Maybe this wasn't completely hopeless. With another slight clear of their throat (a nervous tick they'd been trying to loose since childhood), they unfolded their twitching hands and offered the bag to Henchman. A peace offering, and an apology.

Quick, sharp footsteps passed in front of the doorway, and a flash of Right Hand's silvery hair was all it took to prompt Villain into their next words, uttered so quickly their tongue tripped over itself. "I was angry at Hero because I was worried about you." They were blushing furiously, and focused their gaze to the ceiling because any eye contact with Henchman would absolutely send them sprinting out of the room to take the easy way out. Or, in Right Hand's words: The coward's way out. It was even worse knowing their right hand was most likely listening as they dug themself deeper and deeper.

"It was the whole reason I wanted Hero down in the first place; they showed an interest in you--they attempted to target you, and I'm not sure if it was to hurt me, because they knew I cared about you, or if it was of their own accord, but I put you in danger and probably encouraged you to run out and fight them."

From what they could tell, they'd stunned Henchman into silence once again, though they couldn't tell if that, coupled with the blush on their ears and cheeks, was a good thing or meant Villain was just making a fool of themself.

"I thought I'd pass out on the spot when Right Hand told me where you were, especially when I saw Hero trying to call for backup. I wasn't sure what they'd do to you if they got you in custody. I went back as soon as I could to deal with hero, but they'd already gotten reinforcements and I couldn't get more than a couple good hits in--"

Their phone buzzed on their desk and lit up with a notification from Right Hand. [Slow down]. The bastard was listening.

Villain took another steadying breath, fixing their uniform and closing their eyes for a moment, clearing their throat and running one hand through their hair, bruised knuckles still aching. Henchman's voice broke in before Villain could continue their poorly planned speech. This was supposed to go so much smoother.

"I... I'm sorry, for worrying you. I didn't realize you held that kind of concern for my safety."

Villain collapsed onto their chair, holding their head in their hands as if that could make this entire situation go away. "I'm sorry, for dumping this on you so suddenly. I just... I would hate to see you get hurt again. I really don't know what I'd do without you."

"And Medic being so weird...?"

"I wanted to make sure you took proper care of yourself while I was gone. I guess they went overboard--but you do have a tendency to neglect your own needs in favor of work, and last night was no different."

Henchman blushed a little bit, and Villain felt themselves sliding into a more relaxed cadence as the conversation eased from "confession" to "take care of yourself, you idiot".

"You're one to talk."

That knocked Villain into another bout of silence. "I'm Villain. It's my job to go out and fight heroes--and maybe sometimes with Right Hand, but you're... you're different. Even considering my other employees, you are different. If you were hurt... If you'd died last night... I don't think I would be okay without you. I... really... I really care about you." Wow, great job genious.

Henchman didn't give Villain time to fret about what their expression meant as they replied, "I don't wanna loose you either, Villain."

-- Thank you all so much for all the attention and support on this series! It means the world to me. I have so many ideas for future posts, so stay tuned! Also, I have very little idea of how romance is actually supposed to go, so any specific requests are very much appreciated.

Tagging: @nameless-beanie @crow-with-a-typewriter @mylovelyme @21fandom-shipper21 @gooberlad @cassidysinferno (If you wanted to be tagged and weren't please just poke me with a stick)

[stergeon]

> FERDINAND II.

And so your PLANT shall henceforth be known as FERDINAND II.

The thought of needing to inform FERDINAND I of his having a namesake makes you a bit ill, but you are already hard at work devising several plausible excuses for the gesture. Something about how you've named it after the one most invested in its naming, or how it is similarly prone to drooling. Yes. Yes, you will be able to deflect quite easily, should the need arise. It has nothing to do with your fondness for FERDINAND or your desire for a substitute in his imminent absence, no—again, you are not so prone to sentimentality. It's about the drool.

Well, anyway. Best to move on with your day and think about something else, lest you grow maudlin or cultivate further affection for the PLANT. May the GODDESS be merciful and never cause you to develop inclinations that could be described as paternal.

Now that your plant has received sufficient care, it is time for COFFEE. You set to making your morning brew. By CHANCE, there happens to be sufficient water remaining in the kettle for FERDINAND I to have TEA, should he wish it.

Per your TIMEPIECE, it is now a quarter to eight. You have made excellent progress on your PRE-BREAKFAST TO-DO LIST thus far: the only remaining task is to remove FERDINAND. You are starting to get rather peckish and would like to be rid of him quickly, but over the past week, you have found that extracting the man from YOUR QUARTERS is a more arduous task than it ought to be.

#007 | << | <- | -> | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | ALL POSTS

[001139]

a story about a flight instructor who hallucinates his dead student