#so there will be stuff about him from time to time

[bi-writes]

Thinking about going into labor while your partner is on the way somewhere unimportant, who refuses to come home to help you. And instead of being alone and scared, you hang up and call up one of your childhood friends everyone thought you'd wind up with. Kyle shows up at your door, furious but does his best to hide it, and helps you through it all. Next day the father of your child has the audacity to show up like nothing is wrong to see Kyle holding your baby so you can take a well deserved nap.

he picks up on the third ring. you tremble, gripping the edge of the porcelain tub. when you finally hear his voice, just the sound of him soothes your beating heart, just a little.

"'ello, love."

"kyle?" you sniffle. his background quiets a bit. you hear a door close, and then he's a bit louder.

"hey, love. what's wrong? you sound upset."

"my water broke," you hiccup. "a-and i...i was in the bath...i-i..." you close your eyes. "i can't get out of the tub."

"jesus fucking christ." you whimper, but kyle just hums. "not you, baby. hey, you just relax, alright? you said you were in the bath. just relax, and i'll be there soon."

"kyle--"

"don't be scared," kyle chuckles, and you whine a little. "hey, you're gonna have a baby. you've been waiting for this, yeah? haven't you?"

"y-yeah..."

"aren't you excited? you always tell me how much you can't wait, right?"

"yeah..."

"don't be scared," kyle repeats. "you just relax. be happy. she's coming today!"

you smile, wiping your face a little, and when kyle hears your giggle, he sighs.

"good girl. you sit tight."

so you do. you lean against the side of the tub, and you rest in the warm water as you stare at your phone screen.

he won't answer the phone. he hasn't read your texts. he's not coming.

you hear the front door open and close, and then there's a gentle knock on the bathroom door. when kyle comes in, you try to cover up, moving your hands over your tits, embarrassed, but kyle just goes to look for a clean towel to help you out.

"it's okay, love, i won't look," kyle tells you. he smiles at you, cupping your face gently, and you look into his dark eyes. "you look so pretty. you're glowin', y'know that?" you smile through gentle tears, putting a hand over your belly, and you try to move, but it's no use. kyle drops the towel, kneeling, and you shake your head.

"i-i can't get out--" you gasp, and kyle rolls up his sleeves over his thick forearms, putting the towel over his shoulder before he reaches for you.

"it's alright. i'll get you out. i'll try not to look, okay?"

"i'm so embarrassed...i'm so sorry, kyle..." you sniffle.

"don't apologize, love. i got it. give me your hands, put 'em around me."

you lift up your wet arms, wrapping them around his neck. you press your chest against his, and he picks you up as you stand, helping you to your feet. as you cup your belly, he wraps the towel around you, covering you, and then he holds your hand as you step out of the tub.

"alright. now where's your bag, darling?"

kyle grabs your bag and supplies as you get dressed in your room. as you pull your socks on, kyle comes up behind you, smoothing your hair down your back before he starts to braid it. he used to braid your hair all the time when you were kids--he always said he wanted to practice for his sisters.

"you got the car seat, kyle?" you ask as he holds your hand, and he nods.

"mhm. in the car already."

"a-and the diaper bag?"

"in the boot."

"my extra clothes? and my...my stuff?"

"mhm. i got it, love. and whatever you forgot, i'll get it for you. alright, up, buckle in, that's a girl."

he holds your hand the entire way. you groan softly when a particularly painful contraction hits you, but when you squeeze kyle's hand, all he does is squeeze back. you take deep breaths, leaning your head back, and he hums.

"you're doing so well, love. so well."

"why..." your eyes water. you squeeze his hand again, and when you look down, your vision is blurry from your tears. "why didn't he answer? w-why...why doesn't he...w-why would he..."

"don't worry your pretty head about tha', love," kyle interrupts you gently. "only thing you need to worry about is you and her. i got it."

"o-okay."

she's beautiful. she looks more like you than her father, and kyle counts that blessing. she's got your eyes, your nose, your hair. her cheeks belong to her father, but she might as well be your twin, and when kyle takes her from you later that night, rocking her gently, he can really see up close how much she looks like you.

in the middle of the night, kyle holds your hand as you get up to go to the bathroom. your entire body is tender and sluggish, but kyle keeps you upright as you walk, kissing your head gently as he helps you take a seat on the toilet.

he even gets your underwear set up for you, with the big pad and everything, and he helps you step into it and slips them up and over your hips. you're a tearful mess as he does this, but kyle just presses his forehead against yours.

the look in his eyes, you will never forget it. the intensity. the commitment. the stability. every time you pick up the phone, kyle answers, and sometimes he's thousands of miles away. your own boyfriend can't even have the decency to answer when you're nine months pregnant--what did he fucking think the call was going to be about?

back in your room, kyle fits into the bed with you. he lets your rest your head on his chest, and when you ask him if he's going to go home, he tells you this is close enough.

in the morning, kyle's sitting outside your room with the baby. he's holding her, touching her little nose, letting you sleep in. you had a rough night, and when he found you still with your eyes closed that morning, he figured he would let you keep sleeping, just for an extra hour or so.

you deserve it.

"is that her?"

kyle's head turns with a snap. standing there, hands shoved deep in his pockets, is your pathetic excuse of a boyfriend. not man enough to answer the phone when you most needed him, not strong enough to do the right thing and marry you, and not wise enough to realize all he had to do was take care of you, and the world would be right again. you're not greedy. you don't ask for anything. all you want is to love and be loved, and kyle doesn't think that's too much to ask for, kyle thinks you're one of the most selfless women he's ever known, so why does this fucking bastard of a man get to call himself this girl's father?

kyle looks back down, fixing the blanket over your daughter's neck carefully. he thinks he did pretty good swaddling her this time, but you might have an opinion on it.

"i'm gonna say somethin', mate," kyle says lowly. "'n after i say it, y'r gonna do some thinking, real thinking."

he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"why don't you give me my baby, and get the fuck outta 'ere?"

kyle looks up and snickers, shaking his head. he gets a better grip on your daughter, sitting back, and he fixes your ex with a sinister smile.

"and what if i don't? you gonna take her from me?" kyle chuckles. "i'd love to see you try."

he stands, raising a brow.

"listen here, and listen close." kyle takes a step closer to him. "you're a right pile of shit comin' here thinking that you can just waltz right in and be daddy of the year, alright? what kind of man are you, eh? your girl in need, callin' you, and you don't even have the fuckin' balls to answer her? take a good look at your kid, mate, cause it's the last time you're ever gonna see her."

"no, i have the right--"

"to fuck right off," kyle snaps. "if i see you near her or her daughter ever again, i'll find you, and i'll make it worth your while, mate. make you feel real sorry finally, y'hear me? 'n when i take her back home, all of your junk better be out the flat. otherwise, i'll fucking burn it."

"kyle?"

your voice pulls him away. kyle adjusts the baby in his arm, going back inside, and he shuts the door behind him, finding your eyes. you reach for the baby, arms outstretched, and kyle easily sets her down in them, watching as you cradle the tiny thing into the crook of your neck and stroke the back of her neck.

the nurses come in and drop off a few papers. one stops, looking at kyle, giving him a big smile.

"congratulations," she tells him, and he smiles back at her. she takes a seat next to him, holding out a clipboard. "do you think i could get a few details? i just need to know mum's name, baby's name--"

kyle gives it to her. your birthplace. your birthday. your name. your baby's name. then she flips a paper over, putting her pen down.

"and dad's name?" she asks.

kyle sighs, leaning back in his chair. they don't give out birth certificates right away. you have to request it. you won't find out, not just yet, maybe he'll even pick it up for you. you'll be much too busy being mummy dearest.

"kyle," he tells her, flashing her that big smile. she blushes a little, writing it down. "kyle garrick."

he looks back at where you are, your eyes on him. you smile shyly when your eyes meet, and kyle leaves the nurse to come up to you and drape a hand behind your head. he strokes along your hair gently, thumbing at your temple.

"i heard you outside, kyle."

"did you?"

"and i heard you just now."

"mm."

you blink, reaching for the edge of his shirt, and you pull him down, further, until his face is nearly against yours.

"i guess i shouldn't be surprised," you say softly, reaching up to smooth a a few knuckles down his cheek. he leans into it, licking his lips, and you bite your lip. "you've always had a habit of...taking what doesn't belong to you, huh?"

kyle laughs. always the pretty boy, ever since you were little. one smile from him--kyle could get away with anything. anything at all.

"who says you don't belong to me?"

[cowboyheyxu]

caleb is 10 when he realizes that he's a physical touch fiend. the rush he gets when his hand lingers on top of your skin after playing with you is like no other. when he presses into your side while you're reading, his thoughts always circle around one topic: you, you, you. when you would run into his room after a nightmare, caleb was ready to swoop you in his arms and hold you until you fell asleep. every response towards you was involuntary.

caleb is 15 when he realizes that teasing 13-year-old you becomes irresistible. when he holds up your book, pencil, or some other item in the air, he watches as you jump up and down to try and grab it back. he's grown a lot in three years; if he had to estimate, he's a whole head taller than you now—20cm at least.

when you throw yourself onto him in an attempt to get your stuff back, he falters. you're laying against him on the couch, shuffling and moving up and down over his body, and caleb's breath hitches. you're so close and right there.

he's going insane. you can't even stand up for five seconds before caleb pulls you down against him once more, saying something about retaliation or revenge while tickling you to death.

caleb is 20 when he's about to leave for the DAA. there's an air of silence around the house. you've trapped yourself in your room more often, stressing over your senior finals. at least, that's what you've been telling him.

"i'm sorry caleb, i really need to study for this test."

"oh! i totally forgot about that project i had due tonight. shit, i'm sorry caleb. we'll have another movie night soon, okay?"

he doesn't know if you're actually this busy or if you're actually ignoring him. all he does know is that he misses you. he wonders about how he could miss someone who was in the room across from him. you were so close, but so far.

when you found out he was leaving—though you had a grin on your face while congratulating him—caleb knew you were devastated. he wondered if you were secretly mad at him for leaving.

two weeks before his departure, he practically forces you to be around him. he laid down next to you like before. he stroked your hair while you napped on the couch. he teased you and picked you up so you could hit him and grab him like you used to. he always chose to put his arm around you during a movie. he dragged you by the hand all around the neighborhood. he needed to all of that again, a thousand times more.

but at 24, it seems like there may have been a wedge between the two of you. calls are more and more infrequent.

"sorry, space signal sucks," he'd type.

"sorry, i was busy with training!" you'd reply, 2 days later.

he thinks that he would do anything to go back to before. he hasn't felt you in months. he sees you only twice a year.

it's hard. it was excruciating during the first few weeks. not only was he dealing with bootcamp, but he always found himself looking to his side, thinking you'd be there with him. at night, you were there, right next to him in bed.

he imagined that you would whisper words of reassurance in his ear. you'd hold onto him like you used to, when you had nightmares, and wrap your legs between his. there were days where we stroked his necklace, wishing that it was your hand instead. what he would give to have you next to him.

all he wants is to be able to feel you again. he chastises his 10-year-old self for taking you for granted back then. he wants to feel the apples of your cheeks when he caresses your face. once,—when he was 13 (you, 11)—he did that, and he thought you had a fever the way you warmed up. if he could, caleb would build a time machine to go back to that.

caleb is 25 when he is out of your life.

he thinks about you every day. it reminds him of when he was in bootcamp five years ago. it takes him back to when he was fifteen; you were on top of him, and his brain was fried to a crisp. caleb wonders if he's always been this way, because he can recall that at ten, you were still the only thing consuming his mind.

even during his arm repairs, you're there throughout all the pain.

when you discover his metal arm, all of caleb's instincts point to the door. he's spent so long trying to hide it from you: it's the constant long-sleeves (even though they made him incredibly uncomfortable), or making sure to only touch you with his left-hand (even though he wanted to pull you in with both hands).

but he stays. because it's you.

you freeze momentarily, listening to his writhes and moans of pain. caleb only notices you're there when he feels your hands brush his shoulder. he jolts back in surprise, and he sees you looming over him.

he stammers something, not even sure of what he said because you're here. you see him. you see it.

caleb's wanted this for so long. he wanted to see you again, in a state where you were both vulnerable, like old times. however, that moment probably wouldn't have come if he doesn't confess about this, so he relays the details.

you listen attentively, eyes wide with shock as caleb goes on. your hands wrap around his metal one, and he feels nothing. it's agonizing. he sees you examine him so gently. your fingers trace over bolts and plates of metal, lightly stroking up and down his arm. and caleb feels nothing.

how often has he dreamed of this? for you to be touching him again, so intimately and softly? he's stayed up countless nights wishing for you to be here, just so he can put his arms around you in a crushing embrace, only to be incapable of feeling you on one side of his body.

you pull away from his arm, asking if the fleet was accountable. when he doesn't say anything, he feels your weight lift off the bed and go towards the door.

whatever happens next is involuntary. he uses his flesh arm to pull you back, caging you between his forearm and his chest. there's no thought to it, no rationalization. it's just you and him. and he's been deprived of this for so long.

he breathes into the crevice of your neck, and he has half a mind to place his entire face there. he wants to breathe you in after being away from you for so long. no conversations, no contact, no touching. the last time he was this close to you was years ago. he needs this, caleb thinks.

the feel of you against his bare chest is something he cannot seem to describe. it's like he's his teenage (or even kid) self again, where he seems to short-circuit whenever he comes in contact with you. you're still small compared to him, but you fit perfectly like you did a decade ago.

he lets you go after he feels you trembling. you don't hesitate to place your hands on his waist and tackle him onto the bed. you catch him off-guard as you pin him beneath you, looking straight into his eyes.

"hold me," you plead, "with your right hand."

caleb lets out a shaky breath. there are voltages of electricity flowing through him—literally and figuratively. his skin sparks alive when he feels you. will it be the same with the metal arm?

slowly, caleb raises his mechanical arm. he wraps it around you, and feels the movement of your back shift downwards. you released a breath you didn't know you were holding. caleb held his.

you wait patiently before caleb starts running his metal hand up and down your back. you watch him exhale as he continues. you press your forehead on his, and you breathe in tandem with him.

caleb is 25 when he discovers that he loves physical touch.

wow like i didn't expect this to get so long... but like here we are???

i think we need to start embracing touch-starved caleb in all of our fics. this man hasn't seen the love of his life in YEARS (infrequently, anyway) so i think once she touches him (like INTIMATELY) for the first time in years he goes a little cray.

also sorry the ending was rushed i wanted to get this over with bc i intented this to be like 500 words but obviously it got way longer than that. what can i say... this freak has dug into my brain.

[suiana]

yandere! golden boy who is your loving boyfriend and... surprisingly loves listening to you talk about your interests! yes darling, talk about your games and novels and silly plushies! he loves seeing how interested you can get about things you're passionate about and it just makes him feel so warm on the inside.

you might even go as far to say he ENCOURAGES your interests. buying you plushies, taking you to exhibitions/places you want... you don't even have to ask, just one look with your eyes and he's taking out his card. yeah, it doesn't matter if you have an unhealthy attachment to that fat cat pusheen or whatever. you seem to really like it so he's buying that 400 dollar plushie for you.

on the same note... he can't help but get jealous when you're gushing over attractive fictional characters. SPECIFICALLY that ONE dude that you seem to have EVERYWHERE. on the wall, on your phone cover, lock screen, profile picture, fuck, even on your bed as a plushie! and all he gets is a meager nickname on his contact?!

"sweetie, must you... really have all these... THINGs of HIM?"

"he's my first husband, you're my second. of course i have merch of him. plus I'm not gonna just throw all these away, i spent big money on these ya know 💀"

he knows it's petty! he knows that it's just a fictional character and that he shouldn't be jealous but dude! you don't even have him in your wallet! it's that freaking guy!

so he does what evey sane boyfriend does and replaces some (not all just some!) of your merchandise with pictures of him and you. how adorable, right?

no.

"bro where is the portrait of my MAN🤬🤬🤬"

"i replaced it with a nice picture of us together darling☺️ look at how cute-"

oh. and you...you just put another photo of that guy again... oh... and you're ranting on reddit/instagram about how he's being mean... you also removed him from your close friends list... oh you... you also decided to kick him off the bed and onto the sofa... oh...

well no biggie! he has lots of patience and he will sneak in his presence into your stuff. he's determined.

"best friend I'm going to need you to cosplay as my favorite character please ☺️"

damn!

why didn't he think of that sooner? if you can't win the normal way, you should do it another way, right? he can just get you to see how much better he is and you'll eventually replace that fictional man for HIM!

...

yeah, that didn't work out as planned. now you're even more in love with that character and you're asking him to cosplay every other day. erm... at least.. your wallpaper is a picture of him cosplaying the character??? he'll take what he can get.

"lol best friend, did you see that video i sent you. it's so stupid."

"for the last time, sweetie. we're dating, call me boyfriend. and which one? I can't watch every single one of the 99+ reels you send me."

"a real best friend would watch them all..."

being with you has singlehandedly changed this man. for the worse or for the better, he doesn't know. but what he does know is that you DON'T know how to dress.

"sweetie, no. you can't just go out in a shirt and shorts! you look like adam sandler!"

"clothes are clothes 🤬"

at least he has a fun time dressing you up. you're like, his cute little rat! his very own personal dress up rat! oh how he wants to just keep you in his pocket and pick out pretty clothes for you, making you look like the cutest thing ever! sure you might take them off and just wear what you want but... at least he's got the photos and the sight of you in a pretty outfit ingrained into the folds of his brain already ☺️ and he'll take every chance he can get to put you into another pretty outfit again. that i assure you.

he... has ALSO found out that you are living on instant noodles, sandwiches, and the occasional takeout. you don't even open the curtains! how can you see in such a dark home? and why are you sleeping until midday?! dear oh dear. you really are a rat, huh?

"darling get up! it's 12 in the afternoon already!"

"i slept at 3 just let me sleep more..."

that simply won't do. he will not be allowing you to lead such a horrid lifestyle! not if he can help it! especially because... well, he's also your boss. from part 1, remember! yeah, you guys didn't break up at the end haha! you were just joking, obviously! not like you'll ever be able to break up. it's in the contract, silly.

"come on, get up. you need to have a healthy lifestyle. I've already gotten my personal chef to cook up a healthy meal for you."

"who's gonna stop me from living like this? you? 😂😂😂"

"yes, me. in our contract, remember? i will be responsible for your health from now till we die."

don't worry. he'll be by your side every step of the way. and hey, who knows? maybe you can even teach him a thing or two about gaming or something else you like! he's open to learning about the things you like.

and he won't even have to worry about you finding another REAL person to like because... well, let's just say you don't even like going out for dinner. we'll keep it at that ☺️

[goldsainz]

# OP81 — LIPSTICK KISSES !

MASTERLIST !

REQUEST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ wearing lipstick ensures you can leave a visible mark on your boyfriend.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ kissing, not proofread.

003. NOTE !

✯ this is a short one but i like it! i need a break from writing longer stuff, and this was the perfect way😁 if you wanna leave requests for oscar or others (check this) you’re more than welcome to 🫶

word count : 466

It’s media day, and you know how busy that makes Oscar. Between interviews, team meetings, and PR commitments—it’s a nonstop whirlwind. But as he steps out of the motorhome in his pristine McLaren attire, you can’t help but catch his attention.

“Wait!” you call, hurrying after him. He turns, his brows knitting together in mild confusion.

“What is it?” he asks, his voice soft but curious.

You close the distance between you, reaching up to brush a strand of hair off his forehead. “Just thought you could use some good luck,” you say with a sly smile, leaning in.

The first kiss lands on his cheek, leaving a faint mark from your lipstick. Before he can react, you press another below his jawline, just along the collar of his shirt. The final one, bold and playful, ends up just on the corner of his mouth.

“Seriously?” he says, his tone half-exasperated but mostly amused.

“Good luck comes in threes,” you tease, stepping back to admire your work. “You’ll be brilliant today.”

Oscar shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping his lips. “You do realize there are cameras everywhere, right?”

“Relax, no one’s going to notice,” you say confidently, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze before disappearing into the paddock.

Fast forward ten minutes, and Oscar is standing in the media pen, preparing for his first interview. You’re watching from a screen nearby, grinning as you notice the faint marks of your kisses.

His PR manager notices the marks before he does. She pulls him aside, whispering urgently. You can tell from the way his hand shoots up to his neck that he’s finally realized what you’ve done.

“Are you serious right now?” You can almost hear him mutter, his expression a mix of amusement and frustration as he tries to rub at the marks with a tissue. It only makes it worse.

With time running out, he rubs the marks one more time and fixes his shirt, hoping it’ll hide the evidence. But as soon as the interview starts, the first question makes him freeze.

“So, Oscar, it looks like someone’s been giving you some extra luck today,” the reporter says with a grin, gesturing to his neck.

You burst out laughing at the look on his face, watching as his cheeks turn a faint shade of pink. Still, he recovers like the pro he is.

“Yeah, I guess I’ve got a very supportive… fan,” he replies smoothly, though his lips twitch like he’s fighting back a smile.

Somewhere in the chaos, Oscar’s eyes flicker toward the camera, and for a moment, it feels like he knows exactly where you’re watching from. His smirk deepens just a little.

You know you’re going to hear about this later, but for now, you’re too busy enjoying the show.

[aajjks]

Wifey and Groceries (m)

synopsis. Another day, another shenanigan. Going grocery shopping with your nightmare of a roommate who really wants to fuck you, can’t be that much of a struggle, can it?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: crack, 18+

warnings: grôcêry stôre shênânîgâns, flïrty jungkôôk, ôbsêssêd jungkôôk, tsûndêrê yôû, împlîcît sêxûâl jôkês, ânnôyîng jungkôôk whô wôn’t stôp bâbyîng yôû, lïkè îf yôû thïnk lâûghîng îs flïrtîng.

note. I never imagined receiving so much love on stuff like this but thank you- thank you so much for sending so much love on stuck with you and loving our horny roommate jaykay so much. 😵‍💫🥺 so on high demand here is another part. If this flops like I’m expecting well- umm but anyways I hope you guys enjoy this but please share your thoughts and feedback and if this also becomes a hit, I will write another part and I will really make this a series!! ENJOY!

“Jungkook, I swear to God, put that back.”

What did you do so wrong in your past life to deserve this kind of torture in the human form of your roommate, Jeon Jungkook?

You cannot believe this.

You glare at the ridiculous amount of instant ramen he’s just dumped into the cart, your fingers gripping the handle so tightly your knuckles are white.

It’s the third time he’s done this, and you’re this close to losing it in the middle of the aisle.

“What? We’re gonna need it,” he says, all faux innocence, holding up one of the packs like it’s a sacred artifact. “You never know when there’s gonna be a ramen emergency.”

“There’s never going to be a ramen emergency, you idiot,” you snap, shoving the packs back onto the shelf. “Stop acting like a child.”

Jungkook gasps, clutching his chest like you’ve just mortally wounded him. “Wow. You’re so mean to me. Is this what married life is gonna be like?”

“Married life?” You look at him like he’s grown a second head. “We’re not even—why are you like this?”

“Oh, don’t play dumb,”

he smirks, leaning casually on the cart. “We’re grocery shopping together, picking out ingredients for our future home-cooked meals. Pretty much married already.”

“Jungkook, I’m going to kill you.”

“Whoa, whoa, Mrs. Jeon, let’s not resort to violence,” he teases, pushing the cart forward as you glare at him. “Not when we’re still in our honeymoon phase.”

MRS JEON???? What the fuck is he barking about?

You shove the cart to a halt, ignoring the way he laughs at your frustration. “Stop calling me that. And stop putting random crap in the cart!”

“I’m not putting random crap in the cart.” He points to the giant stuffed bear sticking out of the basket. “This guy’s coming home with us. He’ll be perfect for our couch.”

“Jungkook, we don’t even have a couch.”

“Yet,” he says, grinning. “But when we do, he’s gonna look great. You’ll see.”

You groan, turning your back on him to grab the toothpaste you actually came for. But before you can even decide between mint or charcoal,

Jungkook sidles up behind you, way too close for comfort.

“Why are we even looking at toothpaste,” he murmurs, voice low, “when your smile’s already perfect?”

Your jaw drops. “Are you serious right now?”

“Always, babe.” He smirks, leaning casually against the shelf like he’s in a photoshoot. “You should get used to it. You’re stuck with me.”

“Stuck with you?” You scoff, shoving the toothpaste into the cart. “Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Oh, I don’t need to. You do it for me,” he fires back, trailing after you like a lost puppy as you head toward the produce section.

You ignore him, but it’s impossible when he suddenly grabs a cucumber and holds it up like a microphone.

“So, tell me,” he says, pretending to interview you, “what’s it like to be out grocery shopping with the man of your dreams?”

“Man of my nightmares, you mean,” you mutter, snatching the cucumber from his hand and tossing it into the cart.

“You wound me,” he says dramatically, clutching his chest like you’ve just shot him.

Then he grabs a pack of strawberries and holds it up.

“What about these? Strawberries for my sweetheart?”

“Your sweetheart isn’t here, Jungkook,” you deadpan.

He’s really testing your patience right now.

“Sure she is.” He winks, tossing the strawberries in the cart before you can protest.

By the time you reach the checkout line, your cart is a chaotic mix of actual groceries and Jungkook’s ridiculous additions, including the giant stuffed bear he refused to leave behind.

He’s a big man child.

As the cashier starts scanning your items, Jungkook casually drapes an arm around your shoulder.

“By the way,” he says, flashing his signature grin, “this is my girlfriend. Isn’t she pretty?”

Your brain short-circuits. “What—no, I’m not—;”

“She’s just shy,” Jungkook interrupts, squeezing your shoulder.

“But yeah, she’s the love of my life. Isn’t that right, babe?”

Why is your heart fluttering?

You slap his arm off you, your face burning as the cashier tries to hold back a laugh. “Jungkook, shut up.”

Just shut up before I shove my fist up your mouth.

He just laughs, that loud, obnoxious laugh that makes you want to scream and smile at the same time.

As you drag him out of the store, he’s still grinning like he’s just won the lottery. “Admit it,” he says, nudging your shoulder.

“You had fun.”

You roll your eyes, but the corner of your mouth betrays you, twitching up into a reluctant smile. “You’re insufferable.”

He really is insufferable and you’re constantly suffering.

“And yet, here we are,” he teases, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Wanna grab ice cream on the way home, wifey?”

You groan, but you don’t shove him off this time.

[solxamber]

And I Choose...

In which you pick the dorm you want to join

Part 1: Choose Us

Heartslabyul

You never thought you’d see the day when you’d be willingly moving into Heartslabyul, but here you were, standing at the entrance with your bags (and Grim, who was loudly complaining about the lack of a tuna fountain).

Riddle was the first to greet you, looking as composed as ever. “Welcome to Heartslabyul,” he said, hands clasped behind his back. His voice was formal, but the slight upward twitch of his lips betrayed his excitement. “I trust you’ll follow the rules properly now that you’re part of this dorm.”

Before you could respond, Trey appeared beside him, looking far more relaxed. “We’re glad to have you here,” he said with a warm smile. “I already saved you a slice of cake—figured you’d need a snack after all the chaos today.”

Bless this man. Truly.

“Say cheese!”

You barely had time to process Cater’s voice before you were blinded by the flash of his phone. “Oh my Sevens, the new dormie vibe is immaculate! This is totally going on Magicam!” He snapped another selfie, this time pulling you into the frame. “And guess what? I’m using my clones to make moving day a breeze! You’re welcome!”

True to his word, Cater’s clones were already grabbing your stuff. You stared in disbelief as three Cater clones carried a single small bag together while laughing like they were in a cheesy sitcom. Efficiency clearly wasn’t their strong suit, but at least they were trying.

And then there was Ace and Deuce. The moment you’d announced your decision to join Heartslabyul, the duo had erupted into what could only be described as the most uncoordinated, chaotic victory dance you’d ever seen.

Deuce was spinning in circles like he was trying to summon a tornado, while Ace alternated between bad breakdancing and finger guns pointed at no one in particular. “We won! We won!” they chanted, completely ignoring the way Riddle’s eye was twitching in disapproval.

“You know,” you said, watching them make absolute fools of themselves, “I think I made the right choice.”

Grim snorted from his perch on one of your bags. “You’re surrounded by idiots, henchhuman.”

“Maybe,” you said with a grin. “But they’re my idiots.”

Savanaclaw

The moment you announced that you’d chosen Savanaclaw, chaos erupted.

Jack’s tail started wagging so hard it was like a propeller trying to take off. You half-expected him to lift into the air. “You won’t regret it,” he said, his usually calm voice brimming with excitement. “We’ll make sure you feel at home here.”

Ruggie wasted no time grabbing you in a headlock and giving you the noogie of a lifetime. “I knew you’d make the smart choice! You, me, and all this bribe cash—donuts for a whole year, easy! You’re officially part of the Savanaclaw hustle now!”

“Ruggie, I swear, if you ruin my hair—”

But the true shocker was Leona. At first, he played it cool, lounging lazily in his chair like your decision was no big deal. “Hmph, took you long enough,” he said, voice dripping with fake indifference. But then, as if he couldn’t help himself, the corner of his mouth lifted into a smug grin.

And that’s when he pulled out his phone.

“Leona, what are you doing?” you asked, watching as he sidled up to you with the confidence of a king.

“Taking a picture. Gotta rub this in a little.”

Before you could protest, he snapped a selfie of the two of you. Then, with the smoothness of a man who knew exactly what he was doing, he took another.

One went to Vil. The other went to Malleus.

The captions?

To Vil: "Looks like I win. Stay beautiful, princess."

To Malleus: "Better luck next time, lizard."

You groaned, face burning. “Leona, was that really necessary?”

“Absolutely,” he said, slipping his phone back into his pocket and smirking like the cat who caught the canary. “Welcome to the pack, herbivore.”

Despite yourself, you couldn’t help smiling. Maybe Savanaclaw wasn’t such a bad choice after all.

Octavinelle

The second you announced you were choosing Octavinelle, chaos descended faster than you could say “Mostro Lounge.”

Floyd let out an earsplitting cheer and, before you could blink, scooped you up and tossed you into the air like a beach ball.

“Shriiiimpy’s ours now!” he cackled, catching you before launching you up again like he was testing the room's ceiling height.

“Floyd, please!” you yelled, your life flashing before your eyes as you flailed. “I don’t wanna meet the Great Seven this soon!”

Eventually, Jade stepped in, placing a hand on Floyd’s shoulder. “Now, now, Floyd. Let’s not accidentally lose our new dormmate to an untimely accident. We wouldn’t want to scare them away before they’ve even unpacked.”

Floyd, grumbling, set you down but kept a firm arm around your shoulders, as if daring you to second-guess your decision.

Jade, meanwhile, adjusted his gloves with a serene smile that somehow felt a little too sharp. “Welcome to Octavinelle,” he said smoothly. “It’s wonderful to have you with us. I assure you, you’ll be treated with the utmost care here.” He looked way too pleased with himself, his gaze lingering like he was already planning your initiation.

Then there was Azul.

Azul looked like he’d just won a billion Madol jackpot. His eyes gleamed, and for a moment, it seemed like he was going to break into a little dance right there in the lounge. But then, with Herculean effort, he composed himself, clasping his hands and clearing his throat.

“Well, this is certainly a wise choice,” he said, adjusting his glasses like he hadn’t just been doing mental cartwheels. “I’m honored you’ve decided to join Octavinelle. We’ll make sure all your needs are taken care of.”

But then… he slid a very familiar-looking contract across the counter.

“Of course,” Azul added with a dazzling smile, “just a small formality. You see, this document simply guarantees that you’ll remain a proud Octavinelle student until graduation—oh, and a few other things.”

You stared at the contract hoping it might spontaneously combust. “Azul. I literally just joined. Can I have a minute to breathe before I sign my soul away?”

“No rush, no rush!” Azul said, not looking remotely deterred. “Take your time. But, ah—do keep in mind that signing sooner ensures the best possible benefits…”

As Jade handed you a drink (which you were very suspicious of) and Floyd draped himself over you, already talking about all the “fun” you’d have together, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just made a deal with the devil.

Still, as Azul's smug smile softened into something almost genuine, you decided it wasn’t the worst deal in the world.

Scarabia

The moment you announced your decision, Kalim was on you like a whirlwind.

“YOU CHOSE SCARABIA!!” he yelled, tackling you into a hug so tight you thought you might pop like a balloon. Before you could even gasp for air, he was spinning you around the common room like you were some kind of trophy he’d just won.

“This is AMAZING! We’re gonna have so much fun! Parties! Feasts! Adventures! You’re gonna love it here!” Kalim babbled, his infectious excitement making it hard to even feel dizzy despite the rapid spinning.

“Kalim,” you wheezed, clutching his shoulders, “please put me down before my life flashes before my eyes.”

“Oh, right!” he said, gently setting you down with a sheepish laugh. “I got carried away. I’m just so happy!”

As you tried to steady yourself, a much calmer—but no less relieved—voice spoke from behind Kalim.

“I’m glad you chose Scarabia,” Jamil said, his expression carefully composed, though you could see the faintest hint of relief in his eyes.

You blinked at him, surprised. “Really?”

“Yes,” Jamil replied, crossing his arms and glancing away like he didn’t want to elaborate. But after a beat, he sighed and added, “You’re one of the few people here who keeps things balanced. With you around, maybe I’ll have a chance to stay sane.”

Your heart melted a little at his quiet admission, even as Kalim jumped in again, declaring he’d throw a party that night to celebrate your move.

“Let’s get food! Music! Oh, we should decorate your room! Jamil, can we hang up those golden lanterns I found last week? And—”

“Kalim,” Jamil interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose but unable to hide the faint smile tugging at his lips, “one thing at a time. Let them breathe.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the dynamic, feeling a warm sense of belonging already. Scarabia might be a lot, but it felt like home.

Pomefiore

The second you announced your decision, Epel let out a laugh so sinister it would’ve sent chills down a villain’s spine. “HA! TAKE THAT, EVERYONE ELSE!” he shouted, whipping out his phone to snap a selfie with you.

Of course, Rook popped into the frame with perfect timing, striking an overly dramatic pose as Epel sent the picture straight to the first-year chat. “VICTORY IS OURS!” was the only caption needed.

Before you could even blink, Rook had swooped in, bowing theatrically. “Ah, mon cher, your choice has blessed us with the most magnifique triumph! Let us celebrate with a dance!”

You barely had time to protest before he twirled you around the room like you were in some period drama. His excitement was so contagious you almost didn’t notice when he dipped you dramatically—until you felt yourself tipping back, only to be caught by Vil.

“Honestly, Rook,” Vil sighed, steadying you with all the grace in the world. “Do try not to give them whiplash their first day.”

He turned to you, his usual poised demeanor firmly in place, though the faint smile tugging at his lips betrayed his true feelings. “Welcome to Pomefiore,” he said, his voice soft, yet commanding. “You’ve made the right decision.”

You were about to respond when Vil, ever the perfectionist, immediately began fussing over your uniform. “Honestly, you can’t be seen like this. Your tie is uneven, and—Rook, stop standing there and help them adjust their collar properly!”

As Vil worked, meticulously fixing every little detail, you couldn’t help but notice the gleam of satisfaction in his eyes. He might’ve been playing it cool, but there was no hiding how pleased he was to have you here.

Epel and Rook, meanwhile, had started arguing about who deserved the credit for your choice, while Vil made it very clear that it was his influence that sealed the deal.

And just like that, your chaotic new life in Pomefiore began.

Ignihyde

The moment the words “I’m choosing Ignihyde” left your mouth, Idia froze like someone had yanked his power cord out. His hair flickered erratically, and for a second, you thought he might actually pass out.

“Big Brother? Big Brother!” Ortho shook him frantically, his mechanical arms making a soft whirring sound. “Stay with us! They chose us! You can’t glitch out now!”

Idia finally snapped back to reality, though his face was still pale, his hair sputtering like a dying neon sign. “W-Wait, what?! You…chose here? Are you serious? This isn’t like, a prank, right? Did Ortho bribe you?!”

“No pranks, no bribes. I chose Ignihyde,” you said, trying not to laugh at his genuine bewilderment.

He blinked rapidly, processing your words. “B-But the PowerPoint… I thought it was way too cringe. I mean, I had like, fifty slides about food optimization! Who’d find that interesting?! You were supposed to be like, ‘Ew, no thanks,’ and leave!”

“Actually, I thought it was kind of cute,” you admitted, watching as his hair flared a bright pink.

“C-CUTE?! AAHH, STOP, YOU CAN’T JUST SAY THINGS LIKE THAT!” He clutched his hoodie like his heart was going to short-circuit.

“Big Brother, calm down!” Ortho interjected, practically beaming. “They chose us! Isn’t this the best thing ever?”

Idia rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze darting anywhere but at you. “…So, uh, do you wanna, like…celebrate or something? I-I mean, I know you probably have better things to do, b-but if you wanna…play a game or something, that’d be cool.”

You smiled. “I’d love to.”

Ortho let out an excited cheer and zipped over to hug you tightly, his arms surprisingly warm. “Welcome to Ignihyde! I’m so happy you’re here! This is gonna be the best!”

As Ortho buzzed around you, already listing off all the things you could do together, you caught Idia sneaking a shy glance your way. His hair was still flickering pink, and he looked like he couldn’t believe this was real.

You weren’t sure what life in Ignihyde would bring, but if it meant seeing Idia like this—flustered, happy, and maybe a little hopeful—you knew you’d made the right choice.

Diasomnia

The moment you announced you’d chosen Diasomnia, Sebek practically burst into flames.

“OF COURSE YOU CHOSE DIASOMNIA!” he boomed, puffing up with pride. “It’s the only logical choice! With the Young Master here, there was no other dorm worthy of your presence!”

Silver chuckled softly at Sebek’s theatrics, stepping forward with a kind smile. “Welcome to Diasomnia. I’m glad you’re joining us. Let me know if you need help moving your things—I’ll be happy to assist.”

Before you could respond, Lilia appeared out of thin air, laughing like a mischievous ghost. “Ah, welcome, welcome! We’ve been expecting you…or at least, I have. Let me go fetch Malleus so he can hear the good news himself!” And with that, he vanished in a puff of green smoke, leaving you blinking at the empty spot he’d occupied seconds before.

Malleus arrived moments later, his towering presence filling the room. His emerald eyes softened as they landed on you. “I heard you’ve made your decision. Have you truly chosen Diasomnia as your dorm?”

You smiled up at him. “Yeah, I chose Diasomnia.”

The way his face lit up was unlike anything you’d ever seen. His usual composed demeanor melted into something warmer, brighter. He almost looked…giddy.

“This pleases me greatly,” he said, his voice rumbling with quiet joy. “Come. I’ll give you a proper tour of our dorm.”

You didn’t even get a chance to answer before he gently ushered you forward, beginning the grand tour of Diasomnia. Lilia popped in and out of nowhere as you walked, adding bizarre and entirely unnecessary facts.

“And over there,” Lilia said, gesturing to a decorative suit of armor, “is what I wore when I once tripped and almost spilled soup on Malleus when he was a child. Ah, good times.”

Malleus sighed but didn’t stop him. “This area is the library. Feel free to browse the shelves at your leisure. I can show you my favorite tomes later.”

“And this hallway is where Sebek shouted for the first time when he thought Malleus was missing! Nearly shattered all the windows,” Lilia added with a grin.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the whole thing feeling so surreal yet oddly comforting. Silver walked quietly beside you, throwing in the occasional useful tidbit, while Sebek followed behind, grumbling something about Lilia not taking the tour seriously.

By the time the tour ended, you felt strangely at home. The eccentricity, the warmth, the oddly familial atmosphere—it all wrapped around you like a cozy blanket.

Malleus turned to you, his expression soft but sincere. “You’ll be safe here. I’ll personally see to it.”

Lilia smirked. “Safe and well-fed. I’ll whip up something special to celebrate!”

“Please don’t,” Sebek muttered, but you just laughed, already feeling like you belonged.

Secret ending: Ramshackle

When you finally dragged yourself back to Ramshackle, you were met with Grim, lounging on the couch like he hadn't a care in the world.

"Well, henchhuman? Which dorm are we moving to? I hope you picked the one with the best tuna," he yawned, tail flicking lazily.

You slumped down next to him, groaning. "None of them."

Grim's ears perked up. "Huh? What do ya mean, none of them?!"

"I told Crowley to just fix the worst parts of this place. I’d rather stay here. Everyone’s so excited for me to join their dorm—I don’t wanna disappoint them."

Grim blinked at you, then shrugged like it didn’t matter. "Eh, as long as you're still my henchhuman, I don’t care. Besides, this place has character! And by character, I mean it’s haunted, but still."

The next day, Crowley gathered the staff and shared your decision with them. You’d half-expected him to brush off his promise, but to your utter shock, the teachers actually…pitched in.

Vargas showed up first, flexing dramatically. "Alright! Time to show these walls the power of my biceps! I’ll have this place sturdy in no time!" He started hammering away, though you were slightly concerned when he tried to patch a hole in the ceiling using a workout bench.

Trein followed, shaking his head disapprovingly. "This building is a historical relic, and it deserves proper restoration." He brought Lucius along, who mostly supervised by napping in different corners.

Crewel arrived next, snapping his gloves on. "We’re not half-assing this. Ramshackle is getting a full makeover. And you’re going to help, pup. Start scrubbing those floors. Chop, chop!"

Even Sam surprised you by popping up with a toolbox and a grin. "Can’t have my favorite customer living in a death trap, can I? Plus, a little investment in the neighborhood never hurts business!"

The repairs were chaotic but effective. You spent days dodging Vargas’ overly enthusiastic demolition attempts, enduring Trein’s lectures on historical preservation, and running errands for Crewel while he barked orders like you were a rookie in boot camp.

By the end of it, Ramshackle was almost unrecognizable. The roof no longer leaked, the walls were sturdy, and the floors didn’t creak like a ghost was stalking you (though you were pretty sure the ghosts were still there, just quieter).

Grim looked around, nodding in approval. "Not bad, huh? Maybe this place isn’t such a dump anymore."

You smiled, patting his head. "Yeah, it’s still home."

And as you settled back into your slightly less ramshackle life, you couldn’t help but feel a little grateful. Sure, your dorm might not have been the flashiest or fanciest, but it was yours. And that was more than enough.

Masterlist

[bunnygirllover45]

— CREATURES OF HABIT. ♱ TRIGGER WARNING(S): This one is about psychological training, pet play undertones (they're not undertones they're very on the nose but oh well.), slightly suggestive. dark content. Johann itself is a warning. WORD COUNT: 1k words. ADDITIONAL NOTES: First time writing something for this guy in a while, sorry if it sucks. I just enjoy writing psych yandere stuff.

The first months in Johann’s basement were grueling. The sudden change of pace, the claustrophobic sensation of always being surrounded by the same walls, you swore multiple times you were about to break, but each time you felt like that, Johann was always there to put you back in place like a beautiful —and fucked up— puzzle.

Then, one day, out of nowhere, Johann introduced some ‘mental exercises’ for you. He told you they were so your brain didn’t stagnate over time due to the confinement, but you couldn’t help but feel like there were some ulterior motives behind it.  Most of the exercises were simple, from just sitting at a table and drawing shapes on paper to following basic instructions, no matter what was going on, Johann never skipped the routine.

Today’s exercise was simple enough: sit down and obey. Johann was really patient with you, so despite your early nervousness, you always found yourself quickly getting accustomed to the session, trying your best not to overthink how utterly weird the whole setting was. Being mentally trained by your kidnapper—no. Scratch that; lover.

“You know about Pavlov’s experiments?” Johann asked softly, tilting his head to look at you. His brown hair fell over his stare, obscuring his expression under the dim light of the basement. His legs were stretched under the table, brushing against yours. “Pavlov discovered that dogs were prone to begin to salivate once they saw the trainers that often brought them food, it was an unconscious action they made.”

“They associate ‘this person’ with ‘food’. The same goes with sounds.” He explained carefully, playing with the chain of the collar attached to your neck, tugging it lightly in an almost mindless manner. “Notice how sometimes when you make sounds in the kitchen your pet always comes? It’s because they relate that sound with food.” 

A smile tugged on Johann’s features as he focused his dark eyes back on you, the intensity in his eyes made you shiver—you knew that look all too well, some wicked idea just sparked inside his twisted head. “I thought it would be interesting to try that with you.” 

The way he whispered those words with that tone of his that was equally aloof as it hid some of his excitement made you tremble, but a part of you felt curious about the idea too. Lately, you found yourself associating the sound of the chain of your collar with going outside, Johann always kept the collar inside the house but not the chain, which was saved for when you two went outside for short walks —for your legs sake, as he says—.

“What… did you have in mind?” You managed to ask softly, staring at him with expectating eyes. Johann almost shrugged nonchalantly at your question, his fingers caressing the length of the chain around your neck before settling on top of your hand, intertwining his long fingers with yours, his thumb now tracing circles on your knuckles.

“I don’t really know, why don’t we start with something simple?” his free hand reached to cup your cheek, tenderly caressing your skin, you almost leaned into it before he surprised you by suddenly snapping his fingers against your ear. The sound left you confused for a second not because of its loudness but because of how close it felt, you self-consciously reached to cup your ear, staring at him with a frown. “Why did you do that…?” 

“Sorry.” He chuckled, pulling your hand away from your ear to replace it with his own. “You know I don’t like screaming at you, so each time I want you to be quiet I’ll do that, okay?” 

“Each time I snap my fingers, you’ll be quiet.” 

A part of you wanted to protest, but at least you gave him the benefit that he hadn’t ever screamed to you before when you tried to escape or do something that slightly annoyed him, he was gentle, in his own twisted way, but Johann also had to establish some limits if he wanted to keep peace inside the little paradise he made only for you. “Snap equals quiet. Repeat that to yourself mentally until it becomes like second nature.”

As you got lost in your thoughts for a few seconds, you suddenly felt Johann’s hand tracing your thigh, up and down, his nails scratching your skin in a way that didn’t make it hurt but tingle, it was suddenly so overstimulating, the feeling of him tracing maddeningly slow circles on your skin out of nowhere.

Your eyes snapped back to him, but Johann didn’t seem to have any expression at all, he only looked at you with those empty black voids of his eyes, completely still in his seat. Your legs began to tremble as he traced closer and closer to the skin of your thighs, scratching softly, caressing in his own, tenderly violent way. “What are you…?"

Snap.

You jolted suddenly, your mouth closing shut at the sudden sound. Johann’s chuckle followed your reaction, and as you slowly opened your eyes again you found him smiling at you, pupils swallowing his already dark irises. “I’m glad to see it’s already working.”

“But-” Snap. “Quiet.” 

You furrowed your eyebrows at his sudden abuse of power, but Johann only smiled at you. “Don’t pout… I’m just having fun with you.” He tugged at your lower lip playfully. “You’re a quick learner, I’m proud of you.” 

A sudden rush of heat reached your cheeks at his words, and you found yourself looking away from him, but suddenly Johann caught your chin between his fingers, clicking his tongue. “C’mon… don’t look away. I need to know if the training is working or not.” 

“And don’t tense your jaw either, you’ll make your face hurt.” His big hand now cupped your face, pressing at the sides of your cheeks to unclench your jaw, you sighed in a defeated manner. 

Johann slowly stood up, walking around the table until he was leaning behind you, his brown hair making your neck tickle and your skin prickle with goosebumps at the feeling of his breathing against your ear. “I should test it in other settings, don’t you think?” 

His voice was heavy with suggestive undertones, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the idea, nodding slowly you looked at Johann, he gave you a small smile before pressing his lips against your temple. “That’s my darling.” 

Until each one of my actions seeps into your brain matter— until you cannot breathe without copying the movements of my own chest. Until your very existence intertwines with mine.

[acewriter]

I want to use this in part for characters in shows that can’t seem to move on from a traumatic event.

I just started Star Trek: Deep Space 9, and want to use Sisko as my prime example for this. Though I could use the Winchester Bros from Supernatural as a secondary example.

In the pilot of DS9 we see Sisko’s ship being actively destroyed by the Borg. He looks for his wife and child. She’s under steel rubble, already gone.

Trauma.

Three years later he is to be captain of Deep Space 9, where he ends up going through a wormhole and meets people who don’t experience time like humans do. They continuously ask him (via various people from his past, including his dead wife) questions about time.

But they keep ending up at that Borg attack from three years ago. They keep asking, with limited human language, “why do you exist here?”

They end up teaching him that he has not actually continued from this point in his life. He’s been in his own time loop for three years. And the timeless aliens gave us (the audience) a visual representation of the time loop. And that he needs to break out of this loop in order to continue living.

So yeah, I kinda like DS9.

My brain is currently trying to find different ways to showcase a person’s trauma for the books I’m writing. So this kind of stuff is heavily on my mind.

"Stuck in the timeloop as a punishment" is cool and all, but stuck in the timeloop voluntarily though? Oh, brother. Stuck in the timeloop cause you just can't move on. Stuck in the timeloop even if you know that it's not real and whatever should've happen already did. Stuck in the timeloop even if doesn't makes you happy. You just can't bear the thought of not being able to see them ever again. Stuck in the timeloop even if you know you should move on. Stuck in the timeloop even if you know they would want you to move on.

But maybe just a little while longer.

[elssero]

pros and cons of my faves being your roommate!

includes- bakugo, kirishima, denki, sero, shinso, izuku, shigaraki and monoma ! (college au makes most sense)

-inspired by @tokeposts post about shinso being a bad roommate ily toke.

bakugo is very clean, he tidies up after himself very well, as in you’ll hardly find even a trace of him living in your shared areas. he’s also an amazing cook, and while he won’t make meals specifically for you in the beginning, if he has leftovers i’d imagine he may leave tupperware with the note ‘leftovers, help yourself.’

however, i think he’s loud. and in the most inconvenient times. its 8am and he’s blasting music while he works out and ur suffering from a horribleee hangover, he does not care.

i would imagine it takes him awhile to open up to you, but when he eventually does he would much rather cook or go to the gym with you compared to watching a movie on the couch. overall a 8/10 roommate because i cannot forgive the early morning wake ups.

kirishima is an absolute sweetheart, introduces himself straight away and attempts to spend time with you immediately. he’s a great conversationalist and i think he would be amazing at making you feel safe and comfortable.

however, i think he’s clumsy. like your replacing your plates once a month type clumsy. he doesn’t mean it! and he always (tries) to clean up after himself! maybe it’s also that he doesn’t quite know his own strength, shattering glass that takes 20 minutes to clean up with just his grip.

he opens up immediately though, offers to walk you to class (even when he doesn’t have one himself sometimes, but you don’t need to know that.) i think he would also introduce you to his friends too, but he always asks very politely before he invited anyone over!

denki is a horrible roommate. he’s messy and forgetful and he can’t cook and god forbid you ask him to do some laundry for you, he’s completely and utterly hopeless.

it’s a shame that he’s so funny. like an absolute joy to be around. he’s interested in you immediately (in more ways than one) and he takes every opportunity to be around you. hes also super good at finding cheep local places for food and drinks etc, always begging to take you to this new restaurant he’s been dying to try.

‘hey so i burnt our dinner, how about i order us takeout and we watch a movie instead?’ -and so becomes your little thursday night tradition of trying all the takeout places that’ll deliver to your place and watching cringy movies to go along with it. it’s adorable really. he SHOULD be like a 2/10 but he’s so charming it makes it hard.

sero is the chillest guy ever, i believe he was brung up with proper manners and he knows how to take care of himself, it’s a very favour for favour situation. he cooks and you do dishes, you do laundry and he takes out the trash, it’s very domestic from the get go.

however, i think he has a problem with just inviting people over. getting home from a longgg lecture and suddenly there’s three boys in your house that you’ve never met and your subjected to a round of questioning when all you want to do is go to bed. sometimes it feels as though he always has company.

he’d realise pretty fast that it was irritating you though, suddenly your getting messages ‘when will you be home so i can kick denki out so we can hang out.’ it’s sweet. i believe he would be more of a series guy than the movie type. don’t you dare watch an episode without him.

shinso is respectful, he never touches any of your stuff, never gets in your way or makes you uncomfortable, you can just go about your life while having him as your roommate.

but you never see him. you hear him, sometimes at all hours of the night when he’s up finishing a project or showering at 4am when you have a lecture at 8. i think he’s also a procrastinator, you ask him to take out the trash at 7.30 before you leave and you get back at 3 and the trash still isn’t taken out.

sometimes you wake up to a delivery from your favorite breakfast spot on the counter though, so that makes up for it.

izuku is so kind, while he’s a little hopeless at first, he’s very eager to learn. you do have to teach him how to do the laundry and how to use the stove, but he gets it after a few tries. once you begin splitting up the household tasks, things get alot easier. especially when you keep finding your favourite snacks in the fridge.

he can sometimes be overbearing, he won’t go as far as to sneak into your room to try and see what type of stuff your into but he might sneak a peak when you leave ur room.

hugeeee on studying together! brings home ur favorite coffee during finals season and you guys spend hours at the table working at your respective subjects, it’s a fun time.

shigaraki is quiet, most of the time, minus the rare scream at his pc. he doesn’t cook- and he sure as hell doesn’t clean, but he also doesn’t really make any mess, barely leaves his room and orders take out for every meal so he’s not really causing much harm.

it’s definitely you that has to make the move to get to know him. he could go months without speaking to you and everything would be fine for him, until you have enough of course.

once he realised that your okay to hang around with you guys start gaming together, he introduces you to his friends over vc and he gets teased relentlessly for taking forever to become your friend. he starts ordering take out for two.

monoma is the fucking worst, absolutely helpless, huge rich kid energy, i’d even go as far to say he genuinely offers to pay you to do his half of the household chores. if you refuse he’ll probably mope around for a few days before he begrudgingly asks you how to use the washing machine, it’s a grilling few weeks, but you guys get over it.

he’s a hugeee gossiper, knows everything about everyone, you find out things about people that you don’t even know, he can piont to have the people on your walk to campus and tell you a story about them. absolute shit stirrer.

offers to take you to this super nice restaurant free of charge… makes up for the weeks you spend literally teaching him to be an adult… no other reason… it’s literally only to make things even… definitely not a date….

[transmcytshowdown]

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

Joel Smallishbeans:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life, Empires SMP Season 1, Empires SMP Season 2

Headcanons: Transmasc, he/they; Trans man, he/him; Genderfluid, any pronouns; Trans masc, it/he/she; Transmasc Genderfluid, he/any; Identity not specified, they/he

Propaganda: “He’s just a silly little terracotta man with only a vague understanding of human gender he tries to impersonate but fails at.”

“Lizzie and Joel are a t4t bi4bi couple in [the submitter’s] heart. Lizzie transfem (she/her) Joel transmasc+gender fluid (he/any).”

“Basically anywhere you see him. Just like, the constant ‘Ooh i'm so manly, the manliest, I’m so tall and strong and handsome,’ and always insisting that he’s really tall despite being super short and the way his voice will sometimes get all high and squeaky these are all very transmasc coded things. He’s one of us, okay, he’s got the vibes, trust, he’s got our humor. Every time he goes mining on Hermitcraft there is always a caption that’s like ‘straight white male mining content’ which is more of his constant need to assert how macho and manly he is and in double life he says he’s not going to get in the pool cause he’s ‘ashamed of his Minecraft body’ which is very trans behavior. He’s got that confidence he can wear a dress for mcc and still know he’s a man which is very transmasc cause other men just got handed it, but we afab men have to look at masculinity and go ‘yeah that’s me’ and then make sure everyone knows it like that’s how you know being trans isn’t a choice because men kinda suck and I still went out and actively was like um guys I’m actually a man sorry. Some days he’s cool with just throwing gender norms out the window and some days he feels the need to yell for the whole world and the next couple galaxies as well to hear that he’s DeFiNiTeLy NoT WeArInG a CoRsEt GeM. Can you tell [the submitter’s] projecting? Cause [they’re] projecting. You can pry this headcanon out of [their] cold dead hands lol.”

“He has fluctuating chest dysphoria so sometimes he doesn't bind and sometimes he does. His bad dysphoria days are rare enough that he's not gonna bother with top surgery.”

“Transmasc Joel Smallishbeans is everything to [the submitter] and [the submitter] like[s] to think that forming the bad boys is what made him plug the tv back on and turn the brightness to the max, like he went ‘Oh we’re bad boys?? Guess I’m finally a boy now!”

“Nonbinary bad boy Joel except he is not a boy.”

"First, [the submitter] think[s] she was raised as a gender that just. doesn't exist here. She was raised in Mezalea where how gender works is just. different and, because she has a beard, everyone assumed she was a man but she's NOT and in recent years has been figuring out her own identity and pronouns in a way she hasn't ever thought about before and also she and Lizzie are butch4femme, amen. Or bi4bi. Both? She’s a masculine person and she likes stuff like the bad boys because it's more of a title separate from her gender. She’s just a masculine woman, amen.”

“He's a sopping wet tanooki (cat /j) and [jizzie] are t4t bi4bi coded.”

“Joel hasn't been called girlfriend/wife/girl by his friends for NOTHING. Bro’s the definition of gender and he slays in a dress no matter what (in Minecraft and in irl)."

[4zayne]

𐙚 — you look just like a dream.

⟢ summary: headcanons of zayne as your boyfriend!

꒰ pairing ꒱ : zayne (love and deepspace) x fem!reader

꒰ word count ꒱ : 417 (short again..)

author's note 𑁤 : zayne my baby 😭 i love him so much and had to do some hcs for him too :3 lmk if you'd like to see more of these for the others! i'm gonna try and get some more stuff out trust <3

zayne loves shopping with you (despite how long you guys shop for and the amount of bags you leave with). he loves buying you things, whether it be cute clothes, jewelry, food. he just enjoys seeing your pretty smile.

zayne always has his guard down around you. he finds himself vulnerable when he’s with you, it’s like all walls and barriers disappear and he can just be himself and enjoy your company without having to worry about anything.

zayne reluctantly goes to cat cafes with you whenever you pass by one. he’s not very good with cats and they often run away from him, but it’s the opposite with you. they seem to love you, and they don’t mind him when your around so he supposes it's not that bad. 

zayne helps blowdry your hair after you shower, making you stand still in front of the bathroom mirror while still in your bathrobe. he enjoys doing these little things for you, it’s the least he can do since you’re so good to him.

zayne is always keeping an eye on you. mostly for health related reasons since sometimes you forget to take your medicine or don’t keep up with your weekly checkups. and when that happens, he’s often scolding you and making sure you take your medication on time and setting alarms on your phone so you don’t miss your appointments. 

zayne also knows when you’re on your period. once learning about your menstrual cramps and whatnot due to research and prior knowledge of it, as well as your mood swings, he’ll already have stuff prepared for you. pads, chocolate, red date tea, a heating pad: you name it. he’ll also massage your stomach whenever certain remedies don’t work or when he just wants to, just being next to you to comfort you and help you feel better is enough for him. 

zayne loves taking late night strolls with you. when it’s cold outside and you’ve forgotten your gloves at home, he’ll slip your hand into his pocket while holding your hand in his own. enjoying the scenery of the city, the bright lights, the way they reflect off your eyes, that happy expression on your face when you see a food stand with a delicious menu. it reminds him of how lucky of a man he is to have you, a man with a heart that constantly suffers from a great frost that you manage to melt with your warm touch. you're his dream come true.

© 4zayne do not reuse or translate without my permission!

[gangstalkerbarbie]

Yeah! Magic is a cultural concept that should actually be very carefully thought about before you put it in your writing, I think.

There's a funny dissonance about this in the American Orthodox Jewish community, where, like almost every other society, people engage in behaviours that are objectively, anthropologically folk magic.

But they're all very annoying about it, like, no, no, this isn't MAGIC, magic is ILLEGAL... it's not, you literally do it all the time, you were taught a teletubby conceptual translation for "kishuf" (which actually encompasses both illegal sorcery and a rabbinical tradition of allowable theurgy people no longer see a need to do, and therefore rationalize away – and notably includes segulos and most of the stuff women get up to, which is white magic in final fantasy terms) and the only gentiles you know are American Protestants, who are famously not neutral about magic.

What's happening here is the concept of magic as generally subscribed to and feared by Satanic Panic enjoyers, which is a cultural mainstream, has encountered and influenced a minority with a real, ancient, and now fragmentary among most people (Jews no longer have most of our wizard type professions, and rabbis' classical era Earthseaesque high magic has largely been subsumed by Kabbalah and rebranded as mysticism) traditional conception of how power moves through the universe and can (but should it?) be controlled by mortal man.

This conception is translated into the dominant cultural idiom as "magic", which is also that idiom's word for heinous things they really hate you if you do, and that idiom also no longer distinguishes legal from illegal magic. The law of the land is halakhically the law and all communities living near each other affect each other.

The dots are easy to connect from here, and this is why Ukrainian Hasidim are so much more freaky and superstitious about it — the entire east bloc has had mostly the same spiritual ecology (the irl equivalent of the hard natural world bits of a magic system) across religions for a very, very, very long span of feudal time, interrupted by a communist revolution but now increasingly turned to by absolutely everyone. The Hasidic mystic worldview makes absolute sense to random grannies there because they live in the shreds of the Christian reflex thereof.

(You can visit springs sacred to specific native Siberians in Russia and see that Christians, Muslims and local Jews also use them as such — because the sacredness of them has nothing to do with high theology, and that's how folk religions work.)

So in your fantasy world, what is magic? How many different conceptual frameworks exist for magic? Do they all work? Which ones (e.g. in our world, Zoroastrian, Arab and Jewish magic) are considered most effective and foundational? Which ones (e.g. Romani magic) kind of came out of left field into the setting but everyone agrees they work terrifyingly well? Do different societies categorise the same acts as magic? Would a bicultural child between any two of your concultures internalise or innovate anything unusual about magic for where they live? Are they right?

The same guy who will be like MAGIC IS ILLEGAL probably has superstitions about hamsas and is forced to accept certain magical concepts as real because they're codified in the rabbinical literature. He definitely prays an acrostic of the name of a sick person when hoping they get better, and he may believe his doing this is an act of agency, though not power. (Submitting your request to the celestial bureaucracy is still engaging with the machinery of the world that is invisible to people who are not your people.)

But to him they're real, you see. Not magic. He doesn't have the framework even his great great grandparents had for this shit (they lived in Imperial Russia or in Egypt or what have you), which is yet again different from the folk magic landscape the codifiers lived in, where they were allowed to do some things that are now generally accepted as, hm, bad. And this is still distinct from whether electricity is magical. The past is a foreign country, a foreign country is a foreign country, and in real life all of them have only vaguely taxonomically related ideas about what magic even is.

Much to ponder for the median fantasist, and I hope this has been enriching!

a pet peeve of mine in fantasy is when they talk about the Magic(tm) like studying the magic, having the magic, or like, supernatural powers but where everyone has superpowers in that civilization. and. and.

elves wouldn't say "we have superior vision", they'd say "yeah humans are practically blind".

in my pocket i have a piece of metal with a little window that is powered by the energy of running water and that contains all the information in the world

and we call that a cell phone. i play project makeover on mine.

any animal would call that Magic(tm). be we don't. because it's not magic for us.

do you get me?

[snoopychris]

chatterbox

in which... nerd!matt gets drunk for the first time.

you so desperately wished you could have a drink right now. even just a single white claw. oh the downside of being the designated driver. the music around you is blasting louder than you anticipated, people keep bumping into you like you’re invisible, and you feel like your friends are all having more fun than you.  all negatives of being sober. oh well. at least you still had matt… well he was somewhere around here.

you’re mid conversation with somebody when nate grabs onto your shoulder, pulling you from every other thought. his eyes are full of fear and he’s shaking as if he’s scared of you. you swallow in fear, worried about his next words. “nathan…” you whisper, only being met with mumbles. you finally get him to speak up, groaning when he reveals his big secret. 

“i only did two shots with him i didn’t know he’d get like this! how was i supposed to know?” he questions, leading you towards matt in the kitchen. luckily, he’s not alone. chris is gripping onto his wrists making sure he’s able to stay upright. you giggle slightly at the sight, making your way over to your intoxicated boyfriend. his glasses are sitting in his pocket, a sight that’s rare to see. his eyes are wide and his face is red. he is completely out of it. 

“oh my god, sweetie hi.” he mumbles, gripping onto your hand and tugging you close. his breath doesn’t smell too much like alcohol, but you know the two shots he had must be more than he’s used to. you grab onto his shoulders in place of chris, groaning when he and nate sneak away back to the party. your boyfriend, your responsibility.

“hey nerd. y’feeling okay? what’d you have?” you whisper, helping him keep his standing position. matt shrugs as he looks around the counter, picking up a bottle of everclear and handing it to you. your face churns in disgust. there’s no way he willingly drank this stuff. you chuckle as you drag him away from the kitchen, making your way to your car. one of the only perks is that you can make an irish goodbye whenever. the parties at nate’s house anyway. chris can spend the night if he needs to. 

matt stumbles his way out with you, taking a seat in the passengers side. he lays his head backwards on the headrest, squeezing his eyes shut. he pouts his lip like a toddler being pulled out of a toy store. “where are we goin” he pouts, his lip still out. you shrug as you begin driving, making sure to roll the window down to help him sober up. 

“i dunno… can’t believe you’re drunk off two shots of everclear… well like i can but. jesus.” you smile, gripping onto his hand. he squeezes back gently, but he thinks he’s being really aggressive. he mumbles out an apology, earning a head shake from you. the only place you can manage to drive is the beach. his beach. the same beach he would always go when he felt alone. the same beach you went to before you were dating. his face brightens at the sight and he manages to make his way out of the car. 

it’s snowing out- just barely though. just enough for the snow to be visible to the naked eye but not enough to stick to the floor. you follow close after him, wrapping your leather jacket around your torso. he runs towards the sand, sitting down on a random spot. he winces when it’s colder than he expects, the temperature only enhanced by his drunken state. you stand in front of him, dropping to your knees. he almost gets excited but he knows you wouldn’t. instead, he just cups your face with one of his palms. 

“you’re so beautiful… hey do you ever think about how maybe my favorite pokémon is somebody’s least favorite? or how some pokémon don’t have like annnyyyy merchandise made for them because they’re just not profitable. it makes me so sad for those guys. like not everybody can be pikachu you know? and sweetie oh my god don’t even get me started on the merch that nintendo makes because… it’s crazy!” he begins to mumble on when it all sort of clicks for you. matthew sturniolo is a talkative drunk. not a quiet one like chris. not an impulsive one like nick. not a cuddly one like you. talkative. you nod at his words, almost as if you’re asking for more. against all odds, matt looks straight into your eyes and smiles. 

“well cause like… they market off everything cute right? they’re targeting cutie patooties like you with all the animal crossing stuff.” he states, touching your nose with his fingertip when he speaks. you scrunch your face at the feeling, snowflakes gathering on the top of your head. “you are so cute. like i can’t wait for you to move out to california with me.” he mumbles. your face drops slightly at his words but you shrug it off. it’s the alcohol talking. you purse your lips, waiting for more drunk babbles from your boyfriend. “oh my god right so the nintendo marketing scheme-”

a/n: welcome back, nerd!matt. im so scared of myself with this au sometimes chat. like i get to my computer and im like oooo todays the day and then i cant bring myself to do it.

tags: @ifwdominicfike @frankoceanfanpage @mattssslutbby @sophand4n4 @matthewsturnsgf @izzylovesmatt @m11rx @chris-hallelujah @sturniolotoast @mattsbrat @wastelandzella @le4hsblog @mattsd0llfac3 @st7rnioioss @yuppocarzy @isabellewhatt @sturnslutz @ayesha-eroticaa @bluessturniolo @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @ivysturnss @slutformatt17 @emely9274 @princessesgarden @marrykisskilled @cykss @oopsiedaisydeer @13hoax @jetaimevous @allylovescody @urfavvt4ylor

[transmcytshowdown]

Rue:

Submitted for: Skyblock Kingdoms

Headcanons: Identity not specified, pronouns not specified

Propaganda: “Her whole character arc is a metaphor for being trans! She realized she wasn't who she was told she was and then chose her own name and made friends who saw her as HER! They're so special and wonderful and transgender!!”

“[The submitter] LITERALLY INCLUDED HER IN A PAPER [they] WROTE BECAUSE SHE IS SO TRANS.”

“Rue is not just textually trans, with she/they pronouns, she is ALSO a trans allegory! That's TWO trans aspects!”

“Rue is LITERALLY a trans allegory! They have a whole arc about realizing people are viewing them as the wrong person, creating a new identity, being hurt by that confusion, being lied to and told they need to act a certain way for people to like them.... THEYRE A CLONE OF A GUY WHO USES ALL PRONOUNS. THEY USE SHE/THEY PRONOUNS! THEY WERE TRAGICALLY KILLED BY THEIR ORIGINAL'S WIFE (possessed) AND DESERVE A WIN!!”

“Rue is not just played by a trans person and a trans allegory, but a canonical trans character, and she deserves all the love in this world. Rue means a lot to [the submitter] as a whole, and her discovery of how she could be her own person without having to be who people expected her to be made [them] want to sob loudly.”

BigBSt4tz2:

Submitted for: Evo SMP, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life

Headcanons: Trans man, he/they

Propaganda: “The vibe. They're so trans man coded. Like he would use a binder in the life series and, like, for example, Pearl would help him with it in Limited life, or Ren would help them cut their hair in Double life if he felt like being less gender ✨ He's just so trans man 😩 VOTE BIGB.”

“HE CAN BE ANY GENDER YOU'D WANT DUE TO CREATIVITY. I'VE SEEN MANY MAKE BIGB TRANSFEM OR NONBINARY!!!! YOU CAN EVEN MAKE HIM XENOGENDER OR USE NEOPRONOUNS FOR FUN.“

“C!Bigb being trans is so important. His character is very ambiguous (to [the submitter]. At least.) due to the hidden secretive nature of himself, he hides the lies, he masks his weirdness sometimes [which] can be a metaphor for a trans person not wanting to come out (also autism)((proof is [they’re] trans and autistic and [they] do this stuff)). You can color pick a makeshift trans flag from his mc skin also.”

“Every (Life) series, he changes up a lot of himself for whatever he's doing. This seems like he can't decide what exactly he is and is trying to rebrand himself as a different type of person every time, which tends to be something [the submitter has] noticed in a few trans people. The lack of clarity of who they are is definitely very genderfluid coded. It could also go for his character throughout the life series being a system, with each new series being someone else. [Their] main evidence for this is Terry (from Last Life). It can also go for being transmasc on some level because of how easy it was for him to be that character!”

“BigB's username literally has t4t in it. He's not cis [the submitter’s] sorry.”

“BigB deserves to go all the way to the end of this poll because the primary life series fandom's somewhat casual disregard of him makes [the submitter] so upset, and all the trans headcanons for him fill [them] with infinite joy <3 It's gotten a lot better over the years, but [they] feel he still deserves so much more recognition for all his good work.”

“No person who makes their base the backrooms deserves to be cis. That gas lighting with the hole could easily also be about gender.

Grian: What's your gender? 

BigB: Oh, like pretty masc.

(Five seconds later)

Scar: So, like, what's your gender, BigB? 

BigB: None. 

Grian: ??????”

Ethoslab:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft, Third Life, Last Life, Double Life, Limited Life, Secret Life, Wild Life

Headcanons: Agender, they/them; Transfem, she/her; Nonbinary, he/they/she; Nonbinary, they/he/it; Identity not specified, ladder/ladderself

Propaganda: “[The submitter] just think[s] she deserves boobies. [They] think they would be good for her. And also it's because [they] understand the way the universe flows and the nature of all things.”

“[Quote from Etho:]‘I’m ice man also, also the ice Queen […] yep, yep both in one.’ Etho has compared himself to a pretty girl before. ‘That’s me on the inside, beautiful, but on the outside it’s just this.’ (He’s talking about Falsesymmetry’s hermit head, a female head). Bigender, genderfluid, or genderqueer Etho trust trust trust.”

“T4T cletho. They’re both nonbinary and divorced (in an active relationship) and take turns on who's the ex wife and who's the ex husband.”

“When [the submitter] first joined hermitblr, [they were] genuinely confused about Etho’s gender for a bit because of the sheer amount of people on here that she/her him. [They] love it. Live your dreams.”

“Etho (ftm) but can be feminine. [The submitter] think[s] his vest is equal to the famous oversized trans hoodie (but with style).”

Evil Xisuma:

Submitted for: Hermitcraft

Headcanons: Transmasc Demi-boy, he/they

Propaganda: Canonically uses he/they

“Their voice is deepened by a voice changer, even though they wear the same helmet as Xisuma, which could hint at them purposefully adding a voice changer in order to have a deeper voice.”

“Evil Xisuma bites you if you misgender them (They also bite you if you properly gender them) (They bite).”

[demonic0angel]

Hi!!! I just wanted to tell you thank you!!! Like, every time you post a dpxdc something, I just go feral. I come here after screeching at one your posts like a pterodactyl....inna good way I mean! Your writing just makes days better and brings a smile on my face when I need it. So, thank you for feeding my gremlin brain and sustaining my dark soul!

Anyways! My ask is if the recently posted 'Tim thinks Danny is a vampire but cute' would get a 2nd part????

Thank you!!!!!!!!!😄😄😄😄

(Wahhh tysm! I’m glad you like my stuff :D)

Part 1, Part 3

Tim leaned on a fist as he watched Danny doodle on his notebook instead of taking notes. He was drawing constellations and cartoony stars everywhere, his face dazed even through the camera screen. Tim stared at him, knowing that no matter what Jason said, he was still extremely suspicious and needed a careful eye.

A figure suddenly approached Danny, a tall boy with red hair, freckles, and a face that oddly looked similar to Danny’s. He gathered Danny’s stuff without another word, even as Danny jumped up with a start to protest.

Danny floundered. Tim began reading his lips with narrowed eyes. ‘What! Hey, what’re you doing?’

‘We have to go,’ the boy said tugging on Danny’s wrist. His familiarity with him made Tim bristle as he opened another tab to look into the school records and use his face recognition program to find out whoever the hell this was.

A girl with a bandanna pulling back her curly hair then strode towards Danny. She reached over to hold Danny’s hand and pulled him away from the other boy, both of them urgent. Danny asked her something, his face tilted away enough that Tim couldn’t decipher his words.

Hissing, Tim hurriedly changed perspectives so he could catch the tail of his words. When did Danny have so many friends?! After weeks of watching him, Danny hardly interacted with many people at all! These two people were ones that Tim had seen often lingering about, but how did they know Danny?! And why were they so close to him?!

‘— see something?’

The girl nodded hurriedly, her eyebrows furrowed. ‘Someone’s watching you. We need to get you to safety.’

Tim’s heart dropped into his feet. He stood up from his seat to focus as he clicked on his mouse, trying to figure out what was happening. Were they onto him? But how? His cameras were the state of the art in tech and none of it should’ve been detectable!

Unless they were all vampires…? Or maybe his hypothesis was wrong and Danny was even worse than a bloodsucking creature.

In the cameras, Danny froze. Then he turned and all three of them looked at the camera that Tim had chosen to watch them, making direct eye contact with Tim behind the screen.

In an instant, Tim self destructed all of his cameras, listening devices and trackers (which honestly hadn’t worked at all since he attached them to various belongings of Danny.)

He was sweating as he erased all of his tracks expertly. When he was done, he cursed. All of his tech was destroyed completely and none of it could be traced back to him, but now he didn’t have a way to observe Danny.

He sighed and drew a hand through his hair. He picked up his phone and gave a call.

“Hey, Steph? Can you find a way for me to get into Gotham University right now?”

[tookishcombeferre]

I'm a 30 year old transmasc non-binary person. I saw the movie Atlantis: The Lost Empire when I was 7 in the theater. My dad's dad had just died, and we weren't all that close. But, it really helped me to see Milo process the death of his own grandfather at the time. I think Atlantis came out about a year(?) after my dad's dad died? Anyway, I really always related to Milo even if I couldn't understand why at the time. (Now I get it.) I just watched the movie again because I wanted to, and my toddler watched bits and pieces with me while we shared some tea. They watched me *bawl.* My mom's dad, though we never got to talk about the fullness of my experience before he died a little less than two years ago, was the only family member who just understood me with no words. He never knew my name or pronouns - so he never used them. But, he got *me.* His yard was where I could climb trees, feed birds, roughhouse, and do all the "forbidden boyish" stuff. I watched Robin Hood and The Sorcerer's Stone in his living room. I built towers up to the ceiling. I got to read Frankenstein on his porch when I was in the seventh grade. I'm pretty sure my first unabridged copy of the Sherlock Holmes mysteries was purchased for me by him. He was basically my dad or second-dad. Later, he would listen to me talk about my papers, my poems, and my stories and, in turn, I'd listen to the latest of his research in biophysics, when he was still a researcher, or I'd listen to him explain, in layman's terms, the newest experiments he would read about after he stopped doing his own stuff. These were our lost civilizations and genuine arrowheads. When Mr. Whitmore handed Milo the Shepherd's Journal and said the line "Our lives are marked by the gifts we leave our children, and this is your grandfather's gift to you." My own kid was pillowed on my shoulder. I heard that line at 7. I cried in the theater because it's sad. You don't have to have lived the line for it be sad. I needed to learn loss young so I could feel loss better older. Because, now? That line collapsed on me like a ton of bricks, but I didn't get crushed by those bricks. I had a hard hat and padding to protect me. Like I said, my grandfather was like my dad. He's not coming back. But, he has given me so much. He has left me so much, and I get to decide what I want to leave to my own kid someday. I get to decide what world, what legacy, and what I leave for my own child. Because, it wasn't just the journal that Thaddeus left for Milo. It was the values that allowed Milo to remain steadfast when standing up to people physically stronger than him. I remember that right now. Especially right now. It's not just the intellectual gifts my grandfather left me. It's the tenacity. It's the love. It's protectiveness. It's the gentleness. It's the grace. It's the desire to be curious. It's the *need* to know. It's quiet faith. It's the desire to do justice. It's the desire to see peace for the next generation. It's the desire to listen to all sides of an argument before saying my own piece while also knowing when things have gone way too far and need to be shut down. It's knowing when and how to give people space to grow in their own way and time. Because, while everyone else in my family was forcing me into dresses, my grandfather was letting me climb trees in jeans and sneakers. He also didn't bat an eyelash when I cut my hair off my junior year of high school. So, he may not be here. But, he lives in the gifts he left me. So, while, I got my vaccine at 7, it didn't take effect until 28. Even then, I'm only just starting to feel like I'm actually inoculated at 30.

We can't be afraid to keep inoculating the youth. Kids need to see death, loss, and such like in their media. Withholding it from them just makes them less equipped for these exact moments when they're older. I firmly believe that.

Dear, sweet, Littlefoot, do you remember the way to the Great Valley?  I guess so. But why do I have to know if you’re going to be with me? I’ll be with you. Even if you can’t see me. What do you mean I can’t see you? I can always see you.

The Land Before Time(1988) dir. Don Bluth