#theres not enough fics for him tbh

[holesandlividity]

Might start writing for Adam driver characters, not sure yet but most likely

[themyscirah]

Reading shit comics kind of sucks but at least I get the satisfaction of proving my own point w this

[good-wine-and-cheese]

Gambling Apocalypse Tenma AU

As I rewatch Kaiji I inevitably end up wanting to combine show I like with other show I like and stuffing fav characters into show. So here we are.

This was uh going to be a short summary type thing but I accidentally wrote a novella about it sorry

This AU starts off with a much more depressive Tenma. After Tobio's death, rather than immediately pour his grief into developing a robot version of his son, he recedes into himself, psychologically paralyzed, likely turning to alcohol to drown out his anguish.

His mental state is taken as an opportunity within the Ministry of Science to have him ejected from his position; Tenma was never the most well-liked director, and there were those with ambition to usurp him that would jump at the chance. Not that he especially cares in his state.

He's eventually dragged out of his stagnation by Ochanomizu - who, inadvertently, becomes the very catalyst pushing Tenma to develop a robot replacement to his child. This was not what he meant by encouraging Tenma to fill the void left by his son.

...But, well, he is no longer the director of the Ministry of Science. His access to limitless government funds and resources for "scientific research" has been cut off, and this is a project he cannot finance on his own. He can't ask Ochanomizu for help, but...interestingly...a representative of a certain shady organization known as the Teiai Corporation reaches out to him, offering to finance and support his project. A sane and well-minded Tenma might think better of it, but grieving and desperate, Tenma accepts their offer and is able to create a robot in the image of his beloved Tobio. For a while, there's joy in his life.

But the bill, as ever, comes due: Tenma must pay up, and the very resources that had been at his disposal will certainly ensure that he will, or else. Of course, he doesn't have the money; instead, he is given a choice. He can relinquish the robot Tobio in order to wipe out his debt - the child is a sophisticated and powerful robot, after all - or he can participate in a certain illicit event hosted by the Teiai Corporation.

It's nothing major...just a four-hour gambling cruise with a collection of desperate, damned souls that were also swept into debt with Teiai. The conditions are simple: Those who choose to participate are given a chance to clear their debts wholesale should they win. And should they lose...?

Well...no one really knows what happens to the losers seized by Teiai. It's said that they labour away their debts under Teiai's watchful eye and are freed once their work has covered their debts, though it's rumoured that most perish before they reclaim freedom.

There's only one answer Tenma can give, of course; he's not willing to lose Tobio again.

Thus is Tenma's debut into the Gambling Apocalypse, where he must become cutthroat in order to survive; if he wants to see his son again, he must make choices that will doom the hapless to miserable servitude, with a nonzero chance it ends in their death.

He survives the cruise, but of course, it was hardly enough to clear his debt; the cruise was never going to be the end of it. Teiai doesn't let go of its victims that easily. He will be called on again: this is a weight that hangs over him, all while he returns to his son Tobio. The same hands that have pushed innocents into hell must now be the hands that can embrace his child.

He wants to protect Tobio from the truth and enjoy what peaceful moments he's allowed with his son, but it's difficult. It's difficult to be the parent of a child who cannot understand the danger that looms ahead; this "happy" home is not to last. Tenma angers quickly and easily. He turns that anger onto Tobio.

As Teiai's games become more and more vicious and unrelenting, as his conscience holds onto the last vestiges of thread that remain, Tenma even threatens, once, to give the boy in: it would all end, then; the debt would be clear and no longer would he have to endure Tobio's childish annoyances, his ungratefulness.

The next time that Tenma is beckoned, Tobio takes matters into his own hands. He does understand, now; and he would have, if only Tenma had bothered to explain sooner. If it's a debt that needs clearing, he will work. He will help his father clear his debts however he can. Of course, it's difficult to find work as a child; but a circus troupe finds amusement in the idea of a child robot, and takes him in. He is whisked into a certainly unpleasant working situation, but he remembers his father, and what he must be enduring. Tobio, also, will endure.

When Tenma returns, Tobio is gone.

All that held Tenma back from becoming something monstrous has disappeared. All that kept him going has disappeared. When he is called upon by Teiai, there is no knowing what sort of person might come out the other end; whether a monster clawing his way to freedom regardless of what actions he must take, or a desolate husk surrendering defeat.

There is still a light, however dim: Found by Professor Ochanomizu and rescued from the circus, Tobio - now Atom - is able to shed light on the situation which Tenma took great pains to keep hidden from his old friend. With time running out, Ochanomizu and Atom must do what they can to save Tenma - from Teiai, and from himself.

-----

UHHH and that's a wrap!!!! I couldn't quite decide which way Tenma would go after hitting Rock Bottom in this AU, and tbh it would really depend on the kind of mental state he's in at the time. On the one hand I like the narrative of Ochanomizu and Tobio racing to prevent Tenma from crossing a line (actual outright murder probably) - or having to pull him back into humanity (and yknow, his ensuing penance)

But on the other hand having him get sent to Teiai Evil Hell Prison would be interesting because a) there's a lot of narrative potential having Tenma faced with what Teiai is doing with the people that lose the games and b) need him to decimate the foreman at chinchirorin Kaiji style

Tenma's whole character is definitely a much different guy in this AU, he starts off pretty sympathetic, the guy you wanna root for, he just ends up having an inverse character arc where he gets worse instead of better. His conflict with "Tobio" is also kind of reversed, less about being unsatisfied with Tobio as a son and more not being able to handle the fact that he probably has intense PTSD now and isnt capable of coping with it in a way conducive to being a parent (or like, coping at all)

Anyway that's gambling apocalypse tenma!!!

[bbykento]

AITA?

nonchalant bf! x gn! reader

themes: yandere, light angst, locking up, idk

nonchalant bf! who finds the reddit post you made about you losing feelings due to his nonchalance

“AITA for wanting to break up with my boyfriend? I 22GN, my boyfriend 25M. I always try to understand that its my fault and im too clingy that it bothers him. Every time I ask a conversation with him he just ignores me. It has happened so many times and I love him, I used to. Now everyday I lose the feelings in my stomach and heart when seeing him. And Im guilty. Because now I feel like I am developing feelings for someone else who is my coworker.I havent cheated on him but it feels wrong.”

nonchalant bf! who reads the post with that same blank expression he wears when youre crying in front of him. his lips tug downward in mild amusement—not at the content, but at the fact that you thought blocking him would be enough to keep him from stumbling onto it. he knows you too well, your style of writing, the way you punctuate your thoughts with hesitation totally not bc he observes ur every move… its all you.

nonchalant bf! who lets you think hes fine when you break up with him, lets you walk out the door with your things, all while carefully measuring his response. but as soon as the door closes, the mask begins to slip. his fingers twitch, and his gaze hardens. you mightve thought you were free, but he knows better. in his mind, youre his, and no one else has the right to you—not even your coworker.

nonchalant bf! who starts appearing where you least expect him: at the coffee shop you frequent, outside your workplace. always calm, always casual, as though ita just a coincidence. "Oh, hey," hes say, with that familiar, placid smile. "Funny running into you here."

nonchalant bf! who never raises his voice but makes his intentions clear in the quietest, most chilling ways. like the time you found your favorite photo with your coworker mysteriously missing from your desk, or the cryptic message left on your phone:

"Don’t forget who understands you best."

nonchalant bf! who still carries your belongings—an old scarf, a forgotten book—like talismans. theyre not yours anymore; they’re his. and so are you.

yan nonchalant bf! who finally corners you one day, his eyes devoid of the aloofness you once knew. theres an intensity now, a possessiveness that makes your breath hitch. "You can’t leave me," he murmurs, his voice calm, too calm. "Not when I’m the only one who knows how to love you properly."

full fic maybbb?

JJK: Gojo, Toji, Sukuna, Dark Nanami😈

AOT: Eren, Levi, Erwin(?)

HAIKYUU: Kenma, Kageyama, Ushijima

n whoever applies tbh

A/N: yall survery check, does it piss u off when words arent properly punctuated or capitalized?

©bbykento. please don’t copy, translate, repost my works.

[cantgetworsethanthistbh]

out of pocket horny micro kink guy here. glad you liked it im an insane person. and yes you can absolutely add it to your fic i think i would die for real

i could talk for hours about stan and tiny ford leaning more and more into a very gentle 24/7 D/s relationship. Bc your au is making me crazy and im so starved for micro gf content. i have no idea why there's not more of it when they literally get small in multiple episodes!!!! the plot devices are right there!!

and id also like to offer for your consideration, old ford and tiny mullet stan. old ford being protective and possessive and so so soft w him.....

to anyone wondering, its this ask!!

and GOD YEAH especially on the 24h D/s relationship they have rhis way, ford either being totally pliant for once in his life to appease stan or acting like a little (hah) brat for stan to try to control back, all excarbated by their size difference and how for the first time since they were teens, stan actually has an advantage over ford again (and thats hot af dhdbrurndi)

and also anon THANK YOU FOR LOVING THE AU. gotta admit im shocked people liked it sm, i didnt know everyone had such a micro/macro kink here dhdbdubddu

and youre SO right on how theres really not enough micro/macro gf content which is CRAZY. did little dipper mean nothing to us freaks?? or ddamd (there IS a really hot fic for it tho dhdbuen)?? how about a little mindscape shenanigans where they can literally imagine anything to be real— that has way more than just micro/macro potential but you know what i mean lmao

tbh even us freaks dont utilize a lot of what gravity falls offers us on a plate but thats a post (and a fanfic) for another day lmao

and god anon i hear you SO hard on old ford x little mullet stan. i spent a good few days trying to answer this but i couldnt stop thinking of it now that you put it in my brain and im so fucking happy oh my god they are literally everything. my hc here is that big ford went to a dimension to grab another brother w the size crystals to kidnap a stan easier but got too attached to his tiny 30 year old brother, whos absolutely terrified of everything now, the poor thing dbdhdndj

[tacky-optic]

its that fanciful romanticistic day yet again so JIGZENI HEADCANONS be upon ye (in no particular order of importance or seriousness)💥💥💥

- zenigata is jig’s type. gotta get that outta the way first lmao

- favorite fic tropes: reluctant partners, wound dressing, cigarette lighting, slow burn, frenemies with benefits 

- and ok as much as id love this dark noir grizzled detective/hitman mobguy romance love/hate situationship whatever they're probably on the heathier end of the 10 possible lupin ships. they're both just too fucking honest and awkward about romantic sorta stuff yknow

- they both like really black coffee. like nasty "how tf can you drink this its literal tar" black

- zenigata runs hot, jigen runs cold-- obligatory "opposites attract" dynamic

- they both overthink things and small, awkward, semi-flirty situations haunt them for hours. they've brushed knuckles accidentally at a bar once i stg. worst day of their lives they still can't stop thinking about it

- really stand-offish around each other in public (virtually no pda outside of things people might not notice; nudging feet under a table, lighting each other's cigarettes (which is practically kissing for these people let's be real), hands brushing when theyre cuffed in the back of a prison van together, etc etc. normal guy shit)

- they feel obligated to not acknowledge each other, essentially. they're not SUPPOSED to acknowledge each other, it'd break the status quo, "why does that inspector that's always on the news suddenly care about his rival’s partner so much" -- people would get suspicious. best to simply not

- but when they're in private they NEED to be near each other at the very least. eyeshot/earshot. tbh this basically boils down to jigen lounging on top of zenigata. see temp boyfriends-- jigen uses that cop like a basking rock lmao

- facial hair... jig probably digs the five-o-clock shadow look but it usually means "bad mood" for zeni. real late nights, real big loss, real bad scolding from the higher-ups. lupin's dead for the third time this year and he's at the end of his rope about it. shit like that.

- lupin domesticated the shit outta jigen ok. he's the mother hen now. he knows what it looks like (and feels like) when someone's not taking care of themselves so he does the whole shebang-- cooking, cleaning, making sure everyone's hydrated n fed n not slowly rotting. he scolds lupin (plotting heists spiral) and goemon (training spiral) enough that they know to be more careful, but zenigata doesn't get that sorta constant attention since he's solo most of the time

- what im getting at is that jigen checks in after really rough shit ykno. things that might not hit their side very hard but he knows is devastating for zenigata. makes sure he isnt drinking himself into a gutter, makes sure he's sleeping, makes sure he isnt eating exclusively half-assed cup noodle, makes sure he gets cleaned up/shaved. then when zeni's tentatively grateful and Over It and threatening to arrest him again (in that order) he dips

- I FUCKING LOVE THE PATCHUP TROPE and i blame this fandom exclusively. there's this one jigzeni fic where zenigata admits to practically being the gang's third-pick medic and i really really like that idea. so yeah that mother hen shit goes both ways because thats just how zenigata is innately

- hes super cushy with jigen specifically cause jigen's kinda like when you try to clip a dog's nails when they do NOT want that to happen. theres always the looming threat that shit might get loud. and bitey. aaany moment now. but jigen sucks it up real quick when he sees how big this fuckin guy's hands are and how good he is with them winkwinkwink

- put these two alone together for too long and they'll blurt out shit that they BOTH need to hear but have always been too. idk. nervous? afraid? to say. probably afraid. they hate that it's so easy to talk about what's weighing on them

- mostly intrusive thoughts about lupin, but sometimes it's little stuff. i.e. "i actually don't like black coffee all that much but i can't bring myself to sweeten it up because i feel like i don't deserve it/it doesn't feel like i earned it."

- neither can bring themselves to tell the other that That Doesn't Make Sense and is In(s)ane. they both know it's nonsensical and neurotic but they both feel the same deep deep down, too. they get why. they hate it they HATE that they align on a intuitional level

- but once they break that initial barrier of extremely awkward silence where they just KNOW they're thinking the same thing, they can not and will not shut up about how they're feeling

- don't get me wrong. jigen totally vents to lupin (and to goemon and 10000% to fujiko too) but only zenigata can match that same level of angst he has and that's what makes said venting actually, genuinely, deeply relieving. because fuck, he gets it

- they're a tag team of worry. hype men of worry. there's this one mike birbiglia bit from "old man and the pool" -- can't even enjoy a comedy special without this pairing whacking me upside the head with a two-by-four, smh-- that is apparently jigzeni to me:

- "she's worried, and then because she's worried, i'm worried. we're like an anxious improv group. like... i initiate with a worry. she "yes and..."s the worry with some misgivings. i close out the scene with some neuroses, and then sometimes we have sex, and that's so fun."

- on that note, jigen's Worry is very much internal whereas zenigata's is very much not. this is borderline fascinating to them. "how're you so calm all the time" versus "how're you so hopped up on all this energy all the time". the answer is waiting till 2am to unpack by screaming into a pillow and/or drinking till they zonk out

- they tend to gravitate to certain places for what i guess you would call "noncommittal company"-- ambience, if anything-- and since they tend to be holed up in the same areas random bar encounters happen frequently

- they talk about drinking habits a lot. preferred drinks, cocktails, brands-- they're both big fans of whiskey

- jigen buys them both a bottle of real high-their top-shelf shit after particularly rough yet successful heists (the ones where they team up to take out nazis or whatever the hell) and zenigata (after a lot of convincing) never really turns jigen down when he offers him a glass

- okay so either these two happen slowly over many, many months (with the backdrop of many, many years behind them) or they happen IMMEDIATELY, no unpacking, no real deep thought from either of them. if they don't have that “ah, fuck it” moment then they've got a lot of silent pining to look forward to (which i rant about [here])

- damn i think thats it. im pretty shit at coming up with really cushy slice of life bits lmao, it always devolves into deranged character analysis

- some day i will comprehend the art of cozycomfy 'this is how they like their toast' stuff......some day

[draftsandchains]

i bring you this snippet from my au draft and kindly ask for your thoughts on the clownferre characterisation this is my very first attempt

OMG this is beautiful this is fucking amazing sorry taking a moment to celebrate more clownferre content first before having thoughts. little enough clownferre fics that every new addition counts.

gonna yap under cut for anyone who wants to read first without spoilers

i love the part where even though clown tells ferre not to kill branzy theres still a 50/50 chance that ferre is gonna do it anyways cus its ferre he dgaf. he just loves violence so much. and that part where they talk to each other about branzy in front of him but does not include him in their conversations. i too hc that they do that sooo much. clownferre is so toxic and every clownferre threesome has a 10% survival rate for the third guy. that bit where they were fr treating branzy like just a toy is soooo Peak i fucking love it. and ferre being so mean and violent i just love characterising ferre as being hella mean and violent.

i guess my hc of clownferre would have ferre be a lot less talkative around strangers when hes playing as clowns right hand man. cus even though ferre is way more talkative around clown and their established friends, every time they are on servers ferre is just. Silent. hes just standing there Menacingly. and then he beats the shit out of you while mocking you. toxic lil shit.

ive leaned more towards the timeline of clownzy already being a thing before ferre met branzy tbh so i have not thought much of how they would interact in that scenario in the fic. but man. i love it i love toxic clownferre fics...

[urlovebot]

masterlist

dude finally i'm getting to this. hopefully this helps you guys navigate a little bit better!

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Headcannons

bada + reader at the club

✮⋆˙ bada and reader go to the club, bada almost gets into a fight over her girlfriend

bada as your tall sexy dancer gf

✮⋆˙ here are some hcs of bada as your tall sexy dancer gf

bada + corruption kink!

✮⋆˙ gf! bada lee got a corruption kink fr and let me let yall ponder on this with me

experienced!bada + innocent reader

✮⋆˙ experienced bada tests the waters with you

˙whipped bada + oblivious reader

✮⋆˙ bada is your gf and you dont even know it

bada + idol reader

✮⋆˙ bada and her golden retriever, high energy, secret idol gf

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Text Series

texts with gf!bada

✮⋆ cw: really suggestive. bada just wants you to be a stay at home gf so please just quit your job for her

texts with gf!bada 2

✮⋆cw: its always gonna be suggestive idk what to tell yall tbh

˙texts with gf!bada part 3

✮⋆cw: mentions of baby making. drunk y/n...

texts with gf!bada part 4

✮⋆cw: not suggestive... actually theres some angst ☹️ but very very fluffy at the end :D

texts with gf!bada part 5

✮⋆cw: ....suggestive u know the deal. just crack texts idk really no like theme here. enjoy!

text pranks with gf!bada

✮⋆cw: slightly (and very slightly) suggestive i cant help it i want her to **** ** ***** * *** me so bad. enjoy

jealous bada lee texts!

✮⋆cw: jealous, possessive bada lee. she is so fine. i won't her 😍

reader reacts to bada's wkorea photoshoot

✮⋆ i cannot believe our tall sexy gf showed that much of herself to the world. i'm with reader on this one

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 Full fics

Too close

✮⋆˙ c/w: angst. angry howl, homophobia, minor and very, very minor physical harm done to bada. closeted bada, out and proud reader. its alooooot of angst. some comfort at the end though so don't worry!

Luxurious

✮⋆˙ c/w: spoiled ass reader. down bad bada. suggestive. a little more than suggestive? not full on smut though. what does bada like more than checks? money!

My love is mine, all mine

✮⋆˙ c/w: severe anxiety/panic attack. bada comforts reader through an anxiety attack. bada best girl.

Attention

✮⋆˙ cw: bada accompanies you to your high school reunion. nothing too bad. actually, not suggestive! bada lee being fine as hell... y/n acting up per usual. really fluffy at the end. enjoy!

tell your friends

✮⋆˙ cw: requested! smut. full on. cunnilingus. strap/harness. possessive bada hitting it from the back 🧎‍♀️

takeout (on me)

✮⋆˙cw: pussy whipped bada lee taking you in several different positions. cannot get enough of the noises you make and how good she makes you feel. good god.

kissin' and hope they caught us

✮⋆˙ c/w: reader gets into their head alot, but bada is always there to reassure you.

water

✮⋆˙c/w: bath time with bada. aftercare bur bada is still h word on main. fingering, praise, and soft!dom bada.

Garden Kisses

✮⋆˙ cw: friends to lovers. a bit of angst in the beginning. cunnilingus. jealous bada. bada is bad at communicating feelings. some texts thrown in there. possessive bada. pussy drunk bada.

who jerks off the most in zb1

Haobin x reader series

night routine with haobin waking up with haobin randon haobin + reader hc's zb1 being done with haobin + reader grossly domestic haobin + reader

Seok Matthew

matthew + doggy style soft dom matthew

Shen Ricky

eating you out after dinner what he's like during baby making

Zhang Hao

idol!reader accidentally turns him on riding hao's face

Sung Hanbin

angry hanbin

enha as employees at my old coffee shop

Yang Jungwon

brat tamer jungwon

Lee Heeseung

8:16am

Park Jongseong

empty

Sim Jaeyun

quickie with jake certified munch makeup sex with jake 11:32pm certified munch #2

Park Sunghoon

making brownies with sunghoon sunghoon thinks you're pretty

Kim Sunoo

empty

[sneppu]

Hello! Welcome to The Sneep Zone

You may call me Nagi

Main blog: @nagoo (I'm also on Bluesky! absolutely NO MINORS on the bluesky, no exceptions. nsfw art will be going there.)

@headmasterseverussnape is my beloved

u better be able to tell fiction from reality i stg.

first and foremost: fuck jkr. i do not endorse her. i do not agree with her. we dont do that weird shit here.

we do different weird shit instead (bask in the decadence of The Sneep)

This sideblog is for me to post all my Snape art and Snape related ramblings! I am addicted to snape fics, and have found myself needing to make fanart for some of my favorite writers. such things will be posted here!

Severus Snape is my favorite guy!

I am known to refer to him as: Sneep, Snorp, Sneb, The Sneberous Sneb, The Snebulous One, He Who Sneeps In The Dark, SneepSnorp, Mother, Sneppu, El Sneepo, Snorpo, Snib, The Best One, The Only One That Matters, precious beloved sneep, Babygirl, etc.

rest assured, I am talking about Severus Snape every single time

I ship him with everyone! yes, even [insert character]. I always tag ships so block the tag or w/e if theres one you dont like.

I truly and genuinely, from the bottom of my heart, do not care even a little bit about The Grievances u may have about my ships or my sneeps. I cannot stress enough how much that is not my problem. If you're the type to throw a tantrum over ships and fictional content I'm just gonna block you tbh.

Dark/Fucky content WILL be found on this blog. Snape was practically MADE for that shit and I like to project my traumas onto him so like. ykno. I expect ppl with critical thinking on here ONLY.

in my ideal world, everyone would love and cherish Sneep. I tend to focus on marauder's era Snape

not to be rude, but i kind of only care about Snape really. the slytherins are cool and chill too (especially Lucius, Rosier, and Mulciber), but i mostly care about how they interact with and potentially fall in love with The Sneep. the marauders are rat bastards and i ship them with Snape in a "grovel eternally for the scraps of his affection" kind of way. I am not sorry.

dont expect nothing serious from me unless im waxing poetic about Snape or heavily projecting my own Tragic Past onto him tbh, and even then...

i have zero interest in any debates whatsoever. i cannot emphasize this enough, my thoughts are disjointed and nonsensical. The mere thought of having a serious debate about anything is stressful and unpleasant. I mean it as kindly as possible when I say it makes my eyes glaze over.

i am just here to draw Snape and shitpost about my favorite little guy.

i dont care that he's mean.

he shouldve been meaner, actually.

he's better than me and he's probably better than you too, because i wouldve absolutely lost it big boy style.

Art tag: #nagi nyart

Have you ever written a fanfic about Severus Snape? If so, please PLEASE read this post Here

this shouldnt even have to be said but please do not??? take me stuffs and completely re-upload it without credit or permission?? dont do that to anyone, actually? like idk basic courtesy towards artists or w/e. you know better, i know you do.

BUT that said.. using my stuff for your header or profile pic is fine with credit somewhere easily visible, like the profile description, or pinned post!

[vanderbilt-draws]

pleaseee...draw devwinn interacting... plssss

ok sorry it took forever for me to answer i may have gone slightly overboard with the doodles but I REALLY LIKE DEVWINN AND MAY OR MAY NOT HAVE A WHOLE UNWRITTEN FIC ABOUT THEM IN HIGH SCHOOL AND LIKE 7 MILLION HCS ABOUT HOW THEY MET AND THEIR FUTURES AND UHH UHH hcs/all the stuff leading up to my unwritten fic are all below the cut if youre interested ✨✨

winn moved to dimmadelphia in the fourth grade

pretty much instantly dev "befriended" them and started being really clingy with them. he had a MASSIVE crush on them right from the start

winn wasnt actually all that big a fan of dev at first because yk he was mean to most of the other kids, but they didnt want to hurt his feelings so kind of went along with him

(side note i hc that dev has literally been wearing pretty much the same outfit since forever. hes so autism)

dev and winn only got to being real friends once hazel and dev became friends (bc yk shes got the balls to actually tell dev when hes doing something mean, so thats rlly when dev started improving as a person)

winn and dev had the same homeroom in sixth grade and ended up sitting right next to each other, which was when they really started becoming a Duo

winn broke their arm in a skating accident during the winter break of their sixth grade year, dev was the first one they got to sign the cast :] winn never stopped skating but they did do it a lot less + more carefully after that (by order of their parents)

dev started growing his hair into a mullet in the seventh grade because he "thought it looked cool" (<< started noticing his gender dysphoria and wanted longer hair in an attempt to quell it)

winn thought they were bi for all of seventh grade and most of eighth grade bc they had a crush on dev

SPOILER ALERT dev is a trans girl, she comes out in the eighth grade and her chosen name is devine. she still goes by dev but all her friends know what its short for

dev doesnt want to come out to her dad bc she doesnt know how hell react. (tbh if she did come out, her dad would be super supportive and good with prns and names and terms in public, but slip up a ton in private bc he doesnt care as much when people arent watching)

obv winn told jasmine and hazel about their crush right when it started developing, so it became kind of an inside joke between the three that winn has "transbian senses" after dev came out

just before ninth grade, winn decided to get a buzzcut, and theyve been growing it out ever since (this is mostly bc as much as i love dyed hair undercut enby/trans characters THERES TOO MANY PLEASE CHOOSE A DIFFERENT HAIRSTYLE FOR YOUR FICTIONAL TRANSES AND ENBIES SOBBING)

they bleached it blonde when it was about two inches long, and never bothered to cut off the blonde so now they just have blonde tips

winn ended up being 6'5" and joined varsity basketball in the tenth grade because they didnt wanna waste that height

dev stole their original varsity jacket because it was comfy (and because it was winns and it brings her comfort) and then paid for their replacement jacket

jasmine started learning how to sew and embroider clothes over the summer between ninth and tenth grade and so helped devine sew on her own name tag (dev just told her dad jasmine was a bad speller and tbh dale didnt care and was like ok son whatever)

dev ended up stuck at the spectacular height of a middle schooler (5'2") and winn thinks its adorable. theyre strong enough to pick her up whenever they hug her. sometimes when they get excited they spin her around

dev also started wearing her hair curly occasionally in the tenth grade bc winn told her she looked pretty with it like that. her dad doesnt like it when she doesnt slick it back and gets passive aggressive about it whenever he sees her like that

winn started getting panic attacks from all the pressure of high school after joining the basketball team, and dev usually ends up talking them through it, although jasmine and hazel are also good at helping them

they dont think their anxiety is bad enough to be a disorder so they never get a diagnosis/help (until Things Happen in my fic :]]] )

hazel and jasmine are both aroace (in this timeline at least, ive got a few other fic ideas where hazel is bi) and in a qpr. they are also fandom girlies and fic writers, so when dev finally tells them in the middle of tenth grade that she has a crush on winn (and has for a while) theyre both like OOOOOOOHHHHHH I SHIP IT and they, along with cosmo and wanda, start trying really hard to get them together

unfortunately hazmine and coswan have literally no idea how human teenage romance works irl SO. shenanigans ensue :]]]]]]]

anyways yeah thats my buildup to my fic/my personal hcs, no peri mention because hes ✨elsewhere✨ when all this is happening

[heartshapedbubble]

and now, for a request that took me six months to start writing and two months to finish due to personal stuff. jesus christ i should start including financial compensation alongside my fics.

anyways happy spooky szn everyone!! now that my reqs are finally empty i'll be reworking my page soon and opening them again💞

unspoken words, an orpheus x maid reader fanfic📕

tags/heads up: reader is a maid, gender not specified, one sided enemies to lovers kinda????, suggestive only if you squint really hard and get your eyes reaaaally close to the screen (theres only kissing tbh)

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

Being a survivor was never easy. Peer pressure from both your team and people outside it, dealing with all sorts of blows directed right at you - either the physical ones, by the hunter, or the verbal ones from the other survivors.

But being a survivor AND a servant? It made things even worse.

Right after a match, it was only a matter of time when you'd hear groans and whines about how there's no tea and biscuits served in the living room, how there's so much dust on library shelves, how stained the floor in the hall is. And there was no time to catch a break, hell, no time to heal either. You roughly wiped your bloodstained knees, plucked out pieces of wood that dug themselves into your palms, and got back to work. As drops of remaining blood rolled down your leg and you felt your hips crack each time you bent down, you got back to your everyday cleaning service. As you were a maid - the only one that was available at all times, at least, and the only one who was actually living and not just a stitched-up corpse - most if not all of the household manor duties ended up a burden on your back. Strolling between the survivor side and the hunter side, you served warm cups of lemon tea, handed clean towels, even polished shoes. And my god, there was no mercy from either side. Everything was always "not good enough", and most of the time you barely even got a "thank you" handed back. One time, one especially daring hunter dared to spit on you as you scrubbed the tiles beneath him - let's just say that the handle of your broom got to his ankles quite quickly.

The maid life was ugly, but it had its benefits, too. For example, you heard all sorts of juicy gossip dealt from mouth to mouth, from ear to ear, dark secrets from every single person inhabiting the manor. And as most people ignored you unless they needed some unimportant favor from you, in the meantime there was plenty of alone time you could use up until the next bell ring. Curled up in a hidden part of the library, a plate stacked with softened butter cookies by your feet, your free time was spent dozing off on the soft, velvet cushions of the hard sofa by the foggy window, your eyes occasionally skimming through a yellowed book.

~

"Oh, sorry." Helena mumbled as the tip of her cane accidentally scratched your hand as you scrubbed the floor. "I knew you were somewhere in front of me, but I didn't know where exactly."

"It's all good, Hele." Helena was one of the more polite residents, but it was just part of her nature - shy, polite, respectful. Compared to everyone else, she was just a kid after all.

You achingly checked the grandfather clock looming over you, waiting eagerly until it rang for five o'clock and signaled your break for the day. Yesterday you stumbled over a really good book, with a fascinating plot decked into at least five hundred pages. You barely got to skim over the first few when you heard a whine from the living room, demanding a serving of pastries. It kept you up all day long and you could barely contain yourself from running to your little haven straight away.

At last, your deserved break came, and you almost tripped over the carpet folds as you ran towards the rusty trapdoor separating you from your one-hour paradise. Yet, as you lunged right for the piled-up cushions, you noticed a figure.

Someone.

Sitting on your sofa.

Reading a book.

Not just a random book.

The exact same one you picked up and tucked under the pillows yesterday, so no one can get their grubby little hands on it except you.

And, to top it all off, it was no other than the novelist, Orpheus, who was sifting impatiently through the pages, splayed on your sofa like a frog, his leg bouncing nervously.

Ugh, that Orpheus. He was polite and all, one of the exceptions, good-looking even, but god did something about him rub you the wrong way. He always said hello, said goodbye, said thank you and please, smiled back at you, yet...

"Oh, good afternoon, ___!"

The position he was in right now really wasn't helping.

"Hello, sir Orpheus." The "sir" title you had to use out of respect awfully repulsed you, even more so than "lady". Perhaps it was the undertone of uttermost submission unavoidably coming with it. "May I ask you, what are you doing here?"

"Oh. Well, I was on a.... little expedition, will you", he chuckled, nervously playing with the buttons on the cuff of his shirt, "Y'know, messing with the bookshelves and what not, when I stumbled upon this fine little room. Seems like I'm not the first one to discover it, am I?"

"No, you're not." You forced yourself to smile, and sat right by him, the cushions dipping under your weight and slightly pulling you two closer. "I've claimed it as my own, in fact. I believe you don't mind that, do you?"

"I-I don't mind it at all! No no, how could I? Well, I..." He mumbled nonsense, trying to hide his face as he cleaned his monocle. He seemed especially nervous today, and he wasn't the calmest in general, either. "...may I assume you don't mind me staying a bit longer here, do you?"

You sighed. Well, maybe some company instead isn't a bad thing. Even if it was him. "I'll let it slip this time. Want some cookies?" You pulled out a scratched tin box from under one of the big cushions, and messed with the tightly clasped lid. "They're a bit stale, but they taste just fine."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. Hesitatingly, he picked a crumbling cookie and wrapped it in his handkerchief. "Thank you for welcoming me so nicely despite your... condition, y'know. I can only imagine how hard it can be having the role of a maid and a competitor at the same time." There was pity in his voice, a hint of internalized shame, maybe. Willingly or not, his last sentence created an uncomfortable silence between you two, and it was only a matter of time before one of you broke it.

"...You're welcome", you went in head-first into the conversation, "but I really don't need your pity. I didn't get a lot of it in the first place, and I sure don't need it now. My life is what it is, and neither of us can change it."

He sighed. "I suppose you're right", he said as he got up and stretched, "just saying, though.. accepting empathy or help here and there really isn't that humbling as it seems." He calmly walked through the trapdoor, as if he didn't say anything.

God. You decide to be nice for once and you get back a lesson instead? How fun. Especially when it's from someone who you thought you could confide in. But you're not going to allow his words to get to your skull - there's so much better things to think of compared to that....

~

"My apologies, dear." Michiko whispered as she quickly tiptoed away, accidentally bumping into you the second before.

"I'd advise you to be more careful where you tread, doll", Joseph suddenly appeared in the hallway, weaving his words with his usual husky yet elegant voice, "I believe you don't want any accidents to occur while working, hm?"

Out of almost all of the (adult) hunters, Joseph was the most talkative. And you were no exception - he regularly spoke to the other survivors, often scaring them by whispering from behind their back or jumping out of the shadows. He wasn't trying to form strong relationships, obviously, but it seemed like he wasn't the type to withold his comments. After some time spent observing you deduced that Joseph might be a little bit too fascinated with you - or at least a little bit too interested in chatting with you.

"No, Joseph, I, in fact, don't.", you groaned as you threw the broom back in your bucket, "Besides, shouldn't you be more worried about your own wellbeing, old man? Should I bring you some balm for your sore limbs?"

He clicked his tongue. "Tch. You know I have good intentions, dear." One blink later and he already merged with the shadows, looking for someone else to talk to.

"Woah. What was all that about?" You heard a voice behind you, a bit shaky and uncertain. It was - you sighed - Orpheus again, in his hands a ceramic tray stacked with porcelain dishes and silverware, a warm scent of mint emitting from the glossy teapot. He wasn't having a good time trying to balance it in his arms.

"Nothing. Just Joseph being Joseph. Mind me taking this for you?" you grabbed the tray in an instant, now much more stable under your grip.

"I...do, actually." He slowly pulled the tray back towards him, a bit hesitantly now as his hands shook beneath it again. "I thought once you finish we could sit down for tea. Y'know, just the two of us. In the little room in the library. I can bug Norton for some of his tres leches if you want. Or maybe Margaretha for pierogi if you're craving something savory instead... Sorry, I wanted it to be a suprise." He looked away, bashfully, as if he regretted doing all of this in the end. You weren't sure what had gotten into you at that moment, but you suddenly felt that if you don't accept his offer now, you might feel really bad later on. Like looking at a sad little puppy's beady eyes.

"Thinking of it now, it doesn't seem like a bad way to pass the afternoon. I'm in."

~

You puffed at the steam coming from your cup.

"Joseph really gets on your nerves, hm, ____?"

"A bit, yeah. Snooty old man."

"Ah, come on now, he isn't that bad. He's quite pleasant to talk, actually. A little intimidating, very peculiar, but pleasant. Most of the time."

"Wish it was like that when playing against him. I go through hell and back while dressing my wounds because of his damned rapier. How did it even get approved by the owner?

"He's a veteran, so I believe they decided to let it slip back then. Or maybe he just swayed DeRoss off of his feet with his Frenchman charm and the two lasers he has for eyes."

You almost choked on your tea. Orpheus had a suprisingly sharp tongue, unfitting with his unsuspecting face and downturned eyes. He took off his gloves - revealing rough yet nimble fingers - and scooped some pierogi onto his plate.

"Was this a pleasant enough suprise for you?"

"Well, for the first time someone has been nice to me in a while, it's quite delightful, I admit."

"You mean, you wouldn't consider Joseph being polite towards you as "being nice"?"

"Hm?"

"Oh, just wondering, since I overheard bits of your conversation today. He didn't really sound rude, did he?"

"I mean, he wasn't rude or anything, it's just...I don't know how to explain it. Yeah, people are nice to me, actually, quite a lot of them, but they rarely go beyond their words. They don't put them into action."

"I see. I believe it gets annoying with time."

"It does."

"Do you put what you say into action, too?"

"...What are you implying?"

"As in, when you like a person or care for them, do you also try to put into action your love for them?"

"Orpheus, I put everything into action. Every day. That's my job as a maid."

"Yes, I...know that very well, but do you put love in action, too?"

"I don't have time for love. Nor is there anyone to fully love here, I fear. Just tolerate and like, maybe. If they're really nice."

He sat up straight, his thumb trailing his bottom lip back and forth.

"See, I'm no expert, but I do feel that you're denying yourself of something you don't know you need most."

Leaving you puzzled, he got up and left the room.

~

"Orpheus, have you ever kissed somebody before?"

He suddenly jolted, staring back at you from the other edge of the sofa.

"What kind of question is that?" He tilted his head, pouring milk into his tea. One tea break ensued after another, and now it has become an unspoken rule to bring something to sip (or munch) on to the library hideout as the clock struck for afternoon.

"You know how they portray poets and novelists. Romantic, sensual, passionate. I just assumed you already have some experience with dating."

A faint pink flashed his cheeks. "Well, now, what is it that prompted you to ask me? And now, of all times?"

Sip by sip, sentence by sentence, and you got quite close to Orpheus in these few months. You couldn't help but think about his words here and there - to do something with love, not just because you have to. Or out of love. Whatever. The following day after he brought you tea for the first time, you felt the moral obligation to invite him for lunch. And so the cycle continued, an opportunity to chat appeared along with it, and in Orpheus you now saw a friend. Perhaps. There were bits of joy in the moments when you picked out the perfect flavor for the day or played with coffee cream, attempting to make some designs with it.

No, in fact, there was no real reason behind your question. It seemed fitting enough for the moment, and maybe, just maybe, you wanted to catch him off guard again.

"Felt like it."

He cleared his throat. "Well, if you're so curious about it.... not really. Fangirls were common but... I'm simply not very experienced. Some may see me as charismatic but once things get a little bit more serious I don't know what to do. Was that the answer you expected from me?"

It was a bit ironic. A bit cute, even. How his charisma only reached up to actual love, the real thing. The same thing he remarked you needed the most.

"Funny. The Orpheus, the detective novel author, afraid of love? Out of all things?"

It didn't take long for him to pout his lips, looking away in shame. "To be fair, there's quite a bit to be afraid of in love. There's commitment, passion, building trust, insecurity... It takes a lot to love."

"I see."

"May I ask you the same question?"

"Which one - if I've ever kissed someone? Never. Never had the opportunity. Never felt the need, in fact. It wasn't a necessity to have a partner, only a plus. It's not something to be terribly afraid of. I believe it just happens and, well, you go with the flow."

"Well, maybe you never feared it because you never reached its starting point."

"Oh, Orpheus, you're supposed to be a novelist, not a philosopher."

~

The library sofa is quite practical. If you pull the compartment at the bottom of it a little too hard, it can be stretched out, turning it into a large comfortable bed, although a bit rough on the skin.

You and Orpheus laid on the sofa-bed, directly facing the large window, listening to the sound of raindrops hitting the glass.

"It's really calming here. Lulls you right to sleep." He started, his monocle set aside. Now having a better look at his so-to-speak "monocled" eye, you noticed it's more downturned than the other.

"...Mhm." Already half asleep, you turned your head towards his face, soaked up his profile through lidded eyes.

"____ , is everything okay?"

"Everything is just fine. Juuust fine. I'm just a bit sleepy."

You looked at his hand, laying by his hip between you two, fingers twitching here and there nervously. He never took his gloves off in front of you except for when he was eating.

"You can go take a nap if you want. I'll wake you up once it's time to go."

Your hand mindlessly headed towards his and your fingers pinched at the satin gloves, trying to take them off his hands.

"No, I think i'm good."

He sighed sharply. That wasn't a sigh of annoyance, it was a sigh of pain, like trying to breathe deeply while your heart aches.

"God, no. Please, ____ , don't do this to me."

He was scared, and now you were too, but his hand remained still. Torn between pleasure and horror. His fingers cold and nimble, his hand rough and calloused again. For an unknown reason, you wanted to hold it, from the second your gaze switched to it.

"I'm not doing anything bad, am I?"

Your fingers finally fit between his, palm to palm. It was weird. Like holding a pleasantly cold cup and trailing across sandpaper at the same time. But it felt good. It felt safe, secure, like it could last forever.

"You know what you're doing."

You felt his fingers tighten around your hand, gripping it tightly.

"...Please keep on doing it."

~

Seven o'clock.

An envelope in your hands. Your name written on it in the prettiest cursive you've seen, like a treat, baiting you to open it.

But you held back.

You waited.

The door creaked behind you. Not turning back, you spoke softly:

"Orpheus."

"____"

Your name uttered between breaths.

The clack of his shoes, his weight switching from leg to leg, his breathing becoming louder. You could now feel it on your neck. The chilling warmth.

"Why didn't you open the letter?"

"You know why."

"You're cruel."

"But you came anyways."

He sighed. "... for love." It sounded heavy coming from his mouth.

"For love." You smiled, the word now as light as a butterfly. The knife tore through paper and you skimmed through the lines of words, a careful gaze watching you as you did so.

"...What do you think?"

"It's wonderful."

"I know what's on your mind."

You turned towards him now. Face to face. Mere inches separating your eyes. Eyes, wandering everywhere else except towards what laid in front of them.

You tried to lay your hands around his neck. You tried, really. But the look in his eyes already denied you before you even started.

His hands quickly reached for your lowering wrists.

"Give me a moment, I beg of you." He whispered, shaking.

His lips indecisevly hovered above your lips, then your neck, your nose, your cheek. You closed your eyes firmly, only opening them once you felt comforting warmth on your jaw. He pulled back, leaving a translucent string of saliva as he parted.

"I know it wasn't as magical as you expected it to be. I'm sorry, ____ ."

"We barely even started, Orpheus."

He tried to object, to bury himself again, but before the words could slip from his mouth, your lips shut him up. And so, in a mere moment, the unspoken words did not matter anymore.

[botboots]

Hey! I'm probably SOOO late to transformers fanfics and one shots but I've come with this prompt,( I hope you like it enough to write it!) could you write Ratchet x injured reader, g/n or female. Injured shoulder, and maybe trying to hide it from him? Also in Tfp? If all this isnt too much to ask? Thank you for considering! Have a good day/ night

a/n: heehee this one was fun. the dialogue is kinda splotchy because theres a lot going on in my brain rn but!! hope you like it <3 also reader is cybertronian bc there are NOT enough cybertronian!reader fics out there and theyre very fun to write tbh. hope thats okay!!

ALSO! guidelines have been updated so before anyone submits a new req please read it! and please please request mirage/rotb fics oh my god im obsessed with it ROTB WAS SO GOOD </33

warnings: very minor injuries, pining <3 word count: 1059 (GN, cybertronian!reader) continued under the cut

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

The purple and green swirl of the ground-bridge closed behind you as you followed your team back into base, the lingering energy buzzing under your plating.

Glancing at Bumblebee, a small twinge of pity struck you as he made his way over to the medical bay. The scout had taken a few nasty punches from Breakdown and clearly wasn’t feeling too hot; dents littering his armor.

“We showed ‘em, huh?” your focus was snatched when Bulkhead caught you off guard with his usual celebratory elbow-bump, sending you stumbling a little from the force. A sharp pain ran up your arm to your shoulder and you winced.

“Yea- totally.” sending the wrecker a strained smile, you gave him a half-hearted push back. He tilted his head, about to open his mouth to ask you something when Miko booked it over to the two of you, questions spilling out of her mouth at a mile a minute. All of them were something gore or violence related, asking Bulkhead if he got any pictures of some “hardcore massacre-ing”. The girl's interests were a little concerning, but endearing. Nonetheless, you took the opportunity to slink away and avoid any more attention. Angling your helm, your face scrunched up at the sight - and feeling - of the wound on your shoulder.

Too focused on the fight in front of you, a stray Vehicon had been able to sneak up behind you and catch you by surprise. Fortunately for you, Vehicons were mass trained for quantity over quality and didn’t have the best shots. The blast grazed your shoulder, tearing between some of your paneling to the barely exposed wires. It hurt like a bitch at first, but adrenaline buried it enough that it wouldn’t distract you - plus it was small enough that none of your team noticed. Now that you were back at base, though, the piercing sting prodded at your processor incessantly. You did want to go and see Ratchet about it - always finding some kind of excuse to be around the mech - but he was dealing with Bumblebee right now, and you didn’t want to add to his plate. Not like it was anything life-threatening, anyway. You could just try and patch it up yourself - you’ve spent enough time with Ratchet to pick up a few things yourself.

You stole a glance at said medic, who you only just noticed was looking right at you. Immediately you realized from the questioning look on his face, raised brow and all, he had probably caught both your reaction to Bulkhead bumping into you and the grimace you had made at your shoulder. Optimistic, you shook your head at him, giving the mech a meager thumbs-up and a “I'm-actually-totally-fine” smile. He gave you a hard stare, and your spark sank when he motioned you over with a flick of his digits. You begrudgingly made your way over to the medical bay. As you neared, Ratchet had already cleared Bumblebee and was shooing him out. The scout passed you, and your attention was focused on Ratchet waiting with a cocked helm and his ever-present RBF. Standing awkwardly under his gaze, almost scrutinizing, you huffed. Without a word, the red and white medic picked up his scanner, turning it on with a loud click and running the green laser over your frame.

“Really, doc - I’m fine. It’s nothing.” you tried, and failed, as he kept the device lingering at your shoulder. With a deadpan look covering his faceplate, he put the scanner down and placed his servos over your shoulder plating. You grit your denta to keep a pained hiss from leaving you, wincing when he felt around the frayed wiring.

“Nothing, huh?” you pouted at his scoff, his metal brows knitted together as he examined the shot that had barely missed doing any serious damage. “Sit.” he ordered, gesturing to the medical berth while he moved to grab some tools from a nearby counter. Embarrassment was settling in your chassis, but you did as you were told.

It technically didn’t take long to patch you up, but the old mech made it seem like eons to you with the way he was muttering about “some of the team having egos too big for their own good.” It only made the burn of embarrassment grow, and you ducked your head when he gave you a pointed look. Ratchet was nothing if not thorough in ensuring you knew when he disapproved of something.

Soon enough he finished up, giving the patched wound a once-over.

“Anything else you’re not telling me?” he questioned, the familiar lilt of sarcasm back in his tone. That at least steadied your nerves a little.

“No, sir.” you mocked, raising one of your servos in a half-assed salute.

He scowled, crossing his arms, “I’ll have Optimus enforce mandatory health checks every time you come back to base.”

Frantically shaking your helm, you raised both servos defensively, “Okay, okay!” you sputtered, “Won’t happen again.” His optics narrowed, giving you a hard stare, and you released a heavy sigh. “Promise.”

Ratchet debated it for a moment, still having half a mind to just assign the checks anyway, but as you kept your optics trained on his, the mech’s will buckled and he huffed a quick, “Good.”

You both were staring at each other for just a moment too long before Ratchet gave a quick cough. “Come back if the pain flares up again.” he waved you off as he made his way back to his usual spot at the terminal. You blinked, watching him walk off with a slightly heated face. Awkward. Hopping off the medical berth, you were careful not to irritate your shoulder and mess it up more than it already was. As you walked past Bumblebee he whirred to grab your attention. You paused, turning your head to him with a raised metal brow.

The scout chirped at you teasingly from where he sat, nodding his head way too obviously towards you and then Ratchet, who was already burying himself back in his work. Your optics widened, immediately narrowing into an offended glare as you jabbed a digit towards him.

“Don't. Even.” you grumbled, folding your arms and walking briskly away from Bumblebee’s poorly stifled, chittering laugh that echoed behind you. Your previous pity for the mech quickly dissipated as your faceplate burned. Primus.

[the-s1lly-corner]

Having a playdate w/ Splendor, Sally, and Helen

Loosely inspired by my creepypasta x reader longfic , there was a choice at the end of chapter 1 to play with Sally buuuuut it wasn't picked-- and I figured it'd be fun to show off some "what ifs" for the unpicked options!

Notes: gn reader, based off of my fic you don't technically need to read it to understand but it may help, short and sweet, strictly platonic for Sally ofc, but tbh the entire post is platonic leaning, slender mansion au and you're new

CWs: none

SALLY

absolutely hyped that you wanted to take her up on her offer to play- good luck on trying to escape her any time soon, if she had it her way youd be stuck with her until dinnertime- its been soooooooooo long since shes had a new play buddy. splendors nice and all, ben can be a little mean, and jane sometimes isnt up for it... so youre a nice change!

shes a little kid shes going to be a little all over the place naturally- the game, if theres some story is going to bounce around all over... you have a feeling shes making it up as she goes along.... will constantly offer you more tea the second your cup even dips close to halfway empty

will dress you up in whatever shes got in her room- tiaras, hats, necklaces, ect. prepare to look like a unicorn threw up on you

BLOODY PAINTER

hes... definitely playing along during whatever pretend game sally has going on while you sit down to have tea- and there actually is tea! he made some to go along with the game... he... for someone whos good at masking himself hes not the best at playing pretend in the context of a kids game

he doesnt actually talk to you directly all that much- youre just there and hes going to roll with it. it doesnt matter much to him that youre new around here- youre just another face.... and hes never been one to be social... ironic given its a tea *party*

you can feel him staring right into you the entire time, even worse if youre sitting directly across from him... its not that hes judging you... okay well he kind of is but not in an entirely bad way! hes just an observer is all! he doesnt ask questions to learn, he watches

SPLENDORMAN

honestly he might be more into the game side of things than sally is- and he hopes you can at least hope to match his energy... joking, of course! hes not going to be kicking you under the table to make you more enthusiastic!

he knows being new can be a little overwhelming, even if youre doing something so.... silly... but he does quietly keep an eye on you to make sure youre not getting uncomfortable or need to leave for a bit- and hes willing to take one for the team to nab sallys attention long enough to let you slink away... or to soften the blow of your departure

definitely uses this as a chance to get to know you better.... he promises he doesnt mean to interrogate you! he just wants to learn so he can make you feel more welcome!

[emberunderscore]

reading my past, unpublished fics is WILD. here's a collection of random snippets of things ive found that i found cool. mostly icarus centric because i shake them around like a snowglobe

there's an au where corrupt icarus has technoblade's voices

" They laughed again. Not a laugh of joy, but one of madness. Pure, sadistic mania. " Oh corrupt sherb how i have always loved you

" Because if there was someone they hadn’t hurt, they had hurt someone close to them. " -> this line HURT ME. what was i on to write this holy shit. this doc is just called 'icarus dies in this one' which is funny to me

" 'I'm sorry' ... To every mistake they will never fix" OKAY OW

oh theres one that's not that old but its a really cute one of ic and midas getting to talk and be friends in the worldport

" Please. Am I not enough? He killed me, is that not enough for you to leave? " -> this is a wet birds moment, ven trying to convince icarus to go with him

" I was a teenager! I lost everything, my brother, my best friend, my family. You had nothing left to lose " -> Midas yelling at Icarus (as they deserve tbh)

I found a second fic about Icarus leaving Rae behind in a fire, (i really liked brother by madds buckley, okay)

[aliorsboxostuff]

can I request Javier Peña x ftm reader ?

Like reader maybe works at the us embassy and he becomes friends with javi and tries not to fall desperately in love so fluff angst smut whatever all is good idk or care what happens haha I will do anything for that man 😓 tysm for being another male writer i am so sick of Pedro universe characters being written about with only women :((

and if y are not in a fixation (am the same way with that too) of Peña I would love maybe Tim Rockford +ftm reader or Joel if u are into them at the moment. just Pedro simping out rn it’s insane

thank u so much again ! am stoked to see this or any other fics yu write!!

Holy SHIT this took a while!! I'm so sorry but i literally finished Narcos s3 and fell into a writing slump T-T I finally got this out tho and tbh, i like this one, so i hope you all too! Tysm for requesting, I hope this is a good enough Javier Peña fic! If there are any mistakes please don't hesitate to tell me! <3  Remember to Reblog!

Rookie

Tags: Javier Peña x FtM!reader, Javier Peña x m!reader, Javier Peña x agent!Reader, Steve Murphy, Connie Murphy, Colonel Carillo, other DEA personels, First Meeting, Fluff, Slight smut, making out, Kissing, EXCESSIVE eye contact, Slight OOC, Smitten Javier, Javi is DONE FOR, Bisexual Javier Peña, supportive Steve, He’s an ally!, I dont understand how police ranks work okay, so sorry if theres mistakes about those!, Period typical Homophobia, Period typical Transphobia, Use of queer slurs, sorry guy!, Hurt/Comfort, Healing, Patching up, All English, Gunshot, Alcohol, injuries, No one dies! (Note: I can reclaim the slurs used in this fic as I am in fact a queer, trans man.)

Javi’s breath got caught. The man simply meets his dark browns, thick lashes blink slowly before he promptly tilts his head. Then he breaks eye contact, turning back to Carillo, continuing their conversation. The colonel said something which made the man laugh, creases on the edges of those captivating eyes, the way his lips curled with a professional laugh. Javier finds it hard to rip his attention away. Only when Steve promptly cleared his throat did Javi blink, glancing over to his workmate, who was fixing him with a glare. 

Javier scoffs, turning away. 

—

Javier was at his desk when an unfamiliar face came waltzing into the department. The guy seems to follow behind Steve, a confident smile on his lips. The agent takes a sip of his coffee, following the man with his eyes before he disappears into Carillo’s office. He blinks, promptly places his mug back down and rereads the passage before he got distracted.

A minute later, Steve walks out without the mystery man and makes his way to his desk, facing Javier. Curiosity got the best of him, so when his friend went to take a seat, he leaned over his desk enough to whisper to him.

“A new guy? One of yours?”

Steve blinks, before he huffs. “Yeah, the embassy sent him over, apparently he’s got a record with tracking down slippery dealers back in the US, and thought we need more help,”

“Sure, more mouths to feed,” That made Steve scoffs. Javier sits back down, still eyeing Careillo’s office, which makes the blond raise a brow. 

“Don't break him Jav’s,”

“What are you even talking about?” The agent picks up his cup, taking a gulp. 

“You know what I mean,” Steve simply replies, already pulling up his file folder and looking into it. Javier shakes his head, backing up into his chair and resuming his work.

The new guy spent half an hour in the office before he came out, shaking Carillo’s hand with a firm nod. Seems like he already got the guy on his side. Carillo talks to him out of earshot, then suddenly points to Javi’s and Steve’s direction, which makes Javi meet the guy's eyes. 

Javi’s breath got caught. The man simply meets his dark brown, thick lashes blink slowly before he promptly tilts his head. Then he breaks eye contact, turning back to Carillo, continuing their conversation. The colonel said something which made the man laugh, creases on the edges of those captivating eyes, the way his lips curled with a professional laugh. Javier finds it hard to rip his attention away. Only when Steve promptly cleared his throat did Javi blink, glancing over to his workmate, who was fixing him with a glare. Javier scoffs, turning away. 

“Gentlemen, meet our new field agent,” Carillo stands next to their desks, beside him the man stood, button up and in casual pants as he hugs a briefcase, a dark denim jacket over everything. 

“This is Agent Javier Peña, and you’ve met Murphy,” He continued. The man nods at Steve before extending his hand to Javi, which he shakes easily. He notes the calluses on the man's hand before he lets go. 

He introduced himself, stating his purpose. And Steve was right, the embassy did send another agent they thought could help on the hunt. “Pleasure meeting you, Agent Peña,” 

He smiled, a small nod before he moved back beside the colonel. Javier only ran his gaze up and down the man, before promptly nodding. “Welcome to the hunt,” 

—

Agent Peña looked at you up and down, before he nodded. “Welcome to the hunt,”

The colonel smirks, before he pats you on the shoulder. He turns, presumably to return to his office, which leaves you in front of the two agents. On Steve's left, there's an empty desk, which must've been cleared out for you. You gave Agent Peña a once over, the man currently blowing smoke from his lips, before you cleared your throat. “Good luck on today, agents,” 

And with that, you left the two to set up your own space. You heard a huff from one of them, you couldn't pinpoint who, which made you roll your eyes. The embassy entrusted you to help the Search Bloc on locating Pablo Escobar, or at least find more of his sicarios and drug kitchens in order to stop and raid them. You did your job well back in the US, easily finding many drug distributors, often leading the raids there. Seeing your rapid success, you’ve been transferred to the DEA, which you took with pride. In the midst of all the wars, the good guys need all the manpower they can get. 

You begin to open your case, pulling out files you brought from the US of what leads you’ve gathered even before getting assigned to Bogota. After setting them out, you slide off your jacket and drape it over your chair. Maybe it was your mistake of wearing denim to a hot climate, but there wasn't as much time as you anticipated when Steve picked you up from the apartment you were staying in, so you picked the jacket you arrived with the day before, which resulted in a steady gathering of sweat near your collarbones. After securing your jacket, you begin rolling up the sleeves of your beige button-up, exposing your forearms to what air is still available in the stuffy office. You sigh, before taking a seat at your desk, beginning work. 

—

The brunette swore under his breath as he saw their new agent standing meters away from him, just behind Steve. He begins to roll up his sleeves to combat the heat, which exposes his forearms, the soft smattering of hair running up the lengths of them. Javier could keep his thoughts to himself when the man only took off his denim jacket, which Javi almost snickered at and almost commented on the ‘rookie mistake’, but when he peeled the jacket off, it reveals the way his pants hugs the swell of the man's ass, which raises heat under Javier's collar.

He tried to look back down to the important paperwork he should be pouring work into but he’s long abandoned that when steady hands reveal entracing arms. When he sat down, Javi instead bit the inside of his cheek before taking a long drag of his cigarette. There's no way Steve didn't notice, but he appreciates the silence he gives him instead of an accusatory glare.  

Javier had his fair share of experiences with women, mainly his valuable informants around the city, but aside from that, men are unfamiliar territory for him. That doesn't mean it deters him, Javi is anything but exploratory on that side of the spectrum. But finding interest in a co-worker is new, especially a fresh face that showed up mere hours ago in the compound. It worries him, something small in the back of his head telling him to reel back, to run away from those hypnotizing eyes and soft smile, but another part urges him to know, to be curious. Javier stands, pocketing his cigar packets.

“Where are you going?” Steve glances toward his friend, brows furrowed.

“Out, smoke,” Javier simply says before he leaves his partner. Steve only stares at him incredulously before shaking his head, turning back to his papers. 

—

It had turned late. When everyone in the office had decided to retire, some of the guys invited themselves to one of the bars near there, and somehow Javier found himself roped in with the others. To be fair, Steve was the one that invited him, and Javi doesn't really refuse a chance to get himself drunk, maybe pick up a gal before bringing her home for the night, but all his plans went straight out the window when he heard that they also invited the rookie. 

He was standing beside Steven when the man decided he has had enough of socializing with the others and excused himself, heading to the bar. Javier has already started to miss his short laughs and nods as if he understood what his co-workers said. It would surely surprise him if he knew Spanish, maybe basics and everyday words, but unlike Steve, he only arrived in Bogota this week. But it’s rude to assume, people come with varying background knowledge, so Javier turns to the group instead. 

“I heard some gossip about the new guy,” One of them says, eliciting a curious glance from Javi. “Something about him not being a man?”

“Like one of those queer freaks?” 

“Apparently they're called a tranny now,” Some laugh, others shudder before muttering the Lord's prayer.

“God save them,” A couple drinks to that. Steve meets eyes with Javier, something wary in his glance. Javi only rolls his eyes before finishing his shot. He has no business spending time with the likes of these men, if they even deserved to be called men. For all he knows, the man that currently has his back turned toward the table is more of a man than any of them. 

He’s glad to have Steve as his partner. Maybe it's due to the nature of having grown up somewhere like the USA, but the first time Steve found out that Javier has an interest in men, he only shrugged and never saw Javi in another light. From this conversation, Javier also clocks how tired Steve is over the homophobic bullshit their co-workers have. The brunette sighs, blowing out smoke. He goes to take another sip but realizes his empty glass, and pats Steven to indicate his leave to the bar.

He saddles up next to the rookie, the man's fringe slightly blocking Javi to those addictive eyes. He orders another drink, which catches the man's attention. 

"Peña,” He nods and takes a gulp of his drink. Javier is momentarily distracted by the long column of the man's neck, before he shakes his head, resting one arm on the counter. 

"So, what's a handsome man like you doing here?” Javi tries to smile, which might have worked, judging by the grin that appears on the man's lips. He looks down, the condensation coating those lithe fingers, Javier notices. 

“Just trying to pass the night,” He shrugs with a small smile, deciding to humor him. He swirls the alcohol in his glass and Javier follows the movement. He hadn't realized how close he was sitting next to the man. “Listen, Agent Peña-”

“Javier- Javi,” 

Javi’s response made him chuckle. He sips at his drink, before fully turning to face the brunette. “Isn't there a rule against fraternizing with a fellow co-worker, Javi?” 

“Not when it’s outside of work,” That makes the man grin, subconsciously leaning into Javi’s space. 

“I’ve noticed that you’ve been following me with your eyes,” He says, glancing briefly at Javi's lips before returning to his eyes. Javi gulps.

“What can I say, I have an eye for attractive people,” 

“Well, considered me flattered,” Javi tilts his head just so, breathing in the tang of alcohol in the man's breath. They’re dangerously close, too close for just ‘co-workers’. Regardless, Javier finds himself entranced by those deep eyes. 

“But,” He suddenly leans back. “You’re gonna have to try harder than that,” The man picks at his breast pocket before putting down some bills, already reaching for his draped jacket. He swiftly pulls it on, making Javi scramble out of his seat, before he pats his shoulder twice, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Peña,”

Javier is left starstruck. He stays in his seat, following the sway of the man's hips as he walks across the bar, waving to Steve, before exiting through the door. Javi swears, his brows furrowed as he gulps down what's left of his drink. He turns in his seat, spotting Steve still at the table with the others, an accusatory brow raised. 

Steve drives back to the apartment with Javi. They share an understandable silence. 

—

It's the second month since your arrival. 

To your disappointment, progress was slow. To no one's surprise, it seems, but from your prestigious work back in the US, the expectation that you’d help with the hunt was high. To just be another field agent with no lead on Escobar in the compound would be a failure to you.

Though the search hasn't gotten any easier, your relationship with your co-worker has. Mainly with Murphy and Peña, and at this point they’ve insisted on you using their first names, so it's Steve and Javier now. They've invited you to drink more than once, spent late nights with you when the paperwork came down like an avalanche, and most of the time, Steve always brings back three boxes of food when it comes to lunch. 

Somehow, Steve has grown closer to you than you expected. When you were overcome with work, Steve would make sure you and Javi weren't missing your break time. He’d pull the both of you out into the cold night air when it turned too late. He fusses over your choice of fashion more times than you could count, commenting on your choice of jacket or shirt, reminding you of the weather and how it’ll be affected with heat. On stakeouts and recon missions, Steve would be the one to pat your jittery leg softly, an encouraging smile beneath his stache. You’d nod, inhaling deeply before releasing the air alongside your tension. 

Then there is Javier. Though you met Steve before him, Javier had caught your interest since the first day. His constant sharp eyes and the lingering smell of nicotine become addictive, the memory of that night at the bar in constant repetition. You could still remember his scent, a combination of something heady, a touch of smoke and sun underneath it all. You were a breath away from his lips, the dimmed light of the bar didn't help to distract you from his captivating brown eyes. 

Ever since then, thankfully, you’ve gotten closer to him. Javi spends more time with you than Steve. Some nights, he’d stay behind when Steve needed to retire earlier. He’d give you a ride back to your apartment, which turns out just a couple blocks down from where he and Steve stayed. Some nights you’d stop by, from Javi’s invitation, and chat about nothing and everything while sharing a couple of bottles of beer. He’s good company, and you always find yourself hoping for an invitation from him whenever it gets too late. 

This week was different.

There was a shootout. While raiding one of Escobars many drug kitchens, a stray bullet from one of the guards shoots your arm. You screamed and dropped to the floor, immediately gripping your upper arm. You were sure the bullet was still inside which doesn't make it a clean shot. The pain shoots throughout your upper body, making you wheeze out every breath, sweat gathering on your crown. A minute later, Steve was crouched beside you, hauling you up, putting most of your weight on him. 

He brought you outside and into the awaiting medical group. You were rushed into the emergency room, and you shortly passed out. 

Buzzing fluorescent lights woke you up. Blinking away the groggy sleep, you notice a heavy weight on the back of your arm and realize it must've been the IV. Finally regaining enough strength to fight against the blaring lights, you open your eyes to find Javi slumped on a seat next to your bed, a thin blanket draped over him. Seeing him asleep, clear lines of exhaustion under his eyes, something wells inside your heart. You quickly dismiss the feeling as dehydration instead and try to turn your body to reach for the glass of water on the tray next to you. The noise must've awoken your partner, because as soon as you try to stretch your arm for the glass, Javi quickly fills it up with water and hands it to you. You blinked, before slowly accepting the cup and taking big gulps. 

The water extinguishes your drought, but not the other growing feeling. The cup sits on your lap, both of your hands holding it while you catch your breath. Javi has taken his seat again, the blanket draped over the back of the chair. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” You scoff, glancing at your currently bandaged hand. Javi looks at the tiled floor. “But, not my worst,”

“You’ve been shot before?”

“Yeah, on my calf once, the other near my ass,” You chuckle, remembering those years prior before officially gaining your Agent title. “Almost made my legs not work if it weren't for the surgery,”

You found yourself looking into Javi’s deep browns, his brows knitted. “This is just another day on the job,”

“Yeah…” Javi nods solemnly. You were back to staring into the half-empty glass before you felt your partner's warm hand wrap around yours.

It had been a couple of days after that.

Your arm was sadly still in a light, and you were lucky it wasn't your dominant one. Menial tasks are made difficult by the pain that still spreads sometimes, which also raises your annoyance. 

Javi has graciously allowed you to crash in his apartment until your arm has properly healed up. The doctors said it’d take another week or two for your arm to sort itself out, so you're stuck doing things one-handed for the time, sometimes helped by Javi. You've been given orders to stay out of the office because you were insistent on finishing work there, but Javi and Steve brought back your paperwork into Javi’s apartment against your wishes. 

The clock reads 8 PM. Javi has decided to come home earlier than his usual shifts, his excuse; is to help you prepare dinner. Javi has gone as far as to get a cookbook with the help of Connie, making dishes he’s familiar with. 

The sound of the door clattering pulls you away from your paperwork, and you spot the brunette bringing two whole bags of groceries inside. You quickly stand and rush over, prying one bag from his hand. 

“Javi, what's all of this?” The man only blinks as he hauls the bag onto the countertop.

“We can't really survive with just beer,” He shrugs, which makes you chuckle, and bring the other bag, putting it next to it.

“What were you working on?” He continues, pulling out groceries from the bag. You leaned on the counter, caressing your bandaged hand. 

“Just finishing up the report from our last bust,” You wiggle what you could of your bandages arm. “Y’know,” 

Javier solemnly nods, pushing a can into the cupboard. You've moved on pretty quickly from the incident, but something hangs around Javier, making him hard to reach sometimes, especially if you bring up the subject. You know trying to pry the reason out of him would result in coming up empty, so you've decided to wait until he's come to his own term. 

“I'm gonna start on dinner,” He turns, hips leaning on the counter so he faces you. Your eyes impulsively trace the languid way he sways before turning your head slightly, not meeting Javier's dark browns. 

You nod quickly, already feeling the blush forming. “Yeah, sure,” You add before walking back to the couch. 

—

Dinner went by quickly, Javier whipped up something easy for you to digest and quick to make. When you were writing down other notes in your report, Javi calls you to eat and spends the rest of the time talking about his day in the office. Apparently, Steve was worried, asking Javi if he’s been taking care of their partner correctly. He’s had to shrug off Steve’s insistent questions the whole day, which made you chuckle.

After cleaning up, Javi joins you on the couch, bringing two bottles of beer. He hands one to you which you accept with a thankful nod. The couch dips as Javi takes a seat, his head tilts back as he takes a gulp. You blink before taking a short sip, averting your eyes. 

When the man beside you shifts, you half-heartedly thought he was reaching for his pack of cigs. He hasn't been smoking since you crashed in his home, and it slowly became odd, watching Javi’s relaxed posture whenever you both sit together without silver smoke framing his profile. But you've been expecting wrong, because he only shifts to adjust his seating before settling back, his usual pack of cigarettes nowhere in sight. You worry slightly if he stopped because of your presence, even though you enjoy sneaking glances whenever he inhales, the muscles on his neck almost prominent, the way he’ll tilt just the slightest to reveal the expanse of skin, most of the time glistening under the Columbian heat. 

“Listen… About the last week,” Javier’s tone sobers you from your daydreaming. The man is hunched over, arms on his knees, one hand swirling the alcohol. Something in the air sours. 

“I should've been there, I should've- Shouldn’t have gone for that fucking guy, I should've stayed behind-”

“Javi there wasn't any way we could've known-”

“But it shouldn't have been you.” His hand lands on your injured arm, his body facing you. He hesitates; the movement seems accidental, but your hand covers him before he can move it away. You can't keep letting Javi get away with blaming things on himself. 

“Javier, it wasn't your fault. Like I said,” Your head tilts, mustering a small smile to coax Javi from staring at the floor. He notices the pause and meets your eyes. “It's just another day on the job,”

The air hangs heavy, only mere inches sitting between you and Javi. His brows furrowed slightly, hand tightening beneath yours. Your eyes follow the minutely twitch on the man's lips. Javi gulps when his eyes go to your lips fleetingly. Your breath catches. You feel yourself quiver. 

“Javi….” was the last you breathed out before the man pulls at your shirt, closing the gap and pushes his lips against yours. Javi’s staches tickle the top of your lips, the slide of his slightly chapped lips against yours. Your hand holds his jaw, before brushing at the short hair on Javi’s neck. He shivers, shifting himself to press harder against your lips, his hand releases your shirt but moves to hold your hips, eliciting a gasp from you. He uses the chance to slip his tongue between your lips, making you shift until you hit the back of the couch. Your hand travels down from his jaw to brush over his chest, you stored the slight hitch in Javis' breath inside your memory, before you find the man's waist and he moves to straddle your thighs, aware of your healing arm but somehow not breaking the kiss. 

When the need to breathe finally separates you and Javi, his chest heaves, pretty lashes flutter against his cheek. A steady hue of red spreads on his face down to his neck. You manage to regain your composure slightly, one thumb pressing slithy into Javi’s hip, making him drop to your shoulder, burying himself between your neck. You grin, now patting Javi’s hair softly. Your mind focuses on the unsteady beats of Javi’s heart that matches yours, still trying to tap down your adrenaline. 

“I should be careful about your arm,” Javi suddenly says, sitting upright on top of you. It makes you laugh slightly, which Javi smiles at. 

“I’ll be alright, Javi,” You grin, cataloging the way the dim light reflects in his dark irises. “We’ll be alright.” 

Requests are open! Remember to reblog! ^-^

[simpingresponsibly]

apologies if this is all over the place (or doesn't make a lot of sense) but the ask about dnf and hall passes tickled my brain as an aro/ace person lol

When I fully migrated from exclusively dsmp fandom stuff to a mix of dsmp and rpf the amount of weird puritan hostility I encountered was completely baffling. I know my experiences with and opinions on relationships are a little skewed on account of the aro/ace-ness (and the fact that I feel very little relationship jealousy) but to be honest I think the main issue here is that a good chunk of the fandom drank the amatonormativity koolaid.

This mostly manifests in the way people treat Sapnap (or I just notice it more with Sapnap bc I like him) and his relationship(s) with DNF. Adherence to a partner-centric relationship hierarchy leads to people treating Sapnap's relationship with DNF as lesser or not as important as their relationship with one another, when in reality it's just as important, it's just not romantic.

I think the mix of platonic and romantic there tends to throw people for a loop, but to me that confusion doesn't make any sense whatsoever because I've never considered romantic relationships to be more valuable than platonic ones. The whole DNF romantic vs Sapnap platonic baffles me to no end because people try to insert arbitrary jealousy into the dynamic where it doesn't actually exist.

The dteam all have a very close (borderline qpr imo) relationship with one another, and in a world where DNF are dating I can 100% see georgenap still having their regular insaneisms and it not being an issue because that's not how Dream understands his relationship with either of them. Sapnap is his best friend and George is his boyfriend and neither of them are more important to him than the other, which doesn't mean he wants to date Sapnap or that he doesn't love George enough.

A lot of my personal grappling with the dream team's relationship and the fics I write about them centers around this actually - I keep trying to figure out how to explain them, the way they have all these behaviors with one another that are romantic between two of them but platonic with the third member of their friend group. It's really hard to communicate this idea to other people (I think jealousy is the stress point because I don't understand it but other people certainly do lol) because I know what it looks like in my head but I don't know how to show it.

You calling it 'the christian missionary relationship' is so funny tho because that's EXACTLY how I felt when I first joined the fandom. I felt like I was insane for a week and a half there lmao

also the kink thing is just straight up weird tbh my only guess is that it's some kind of warped hold-over from the 'cc boundaries' era of the fandom?

tbh the cc boundary holdover might have some weight on the anti-kink angle

there's a couple of interesting things here. I don't think I completely agree with you on how I interpret them or the fandom responses but I certainly see where you're coming from

the first one is the jealousy angle. I'm a bit biased, given that I answered an ask a little while ago talking about how much I deeply LOOOOVE jealous dnf, but I don't really think that comes into it at all. theres plenty of different reasons to do it, obviously, but to me jealousy is at the core of what makes open relationship/hall pass stories so good.

slight NSFW under cut

whether that's Dream reclaiming George the second he gets back from a hookup or the slow build to possessive sex, THATS the good shit. or when there isn't jealousy, the absence of it is the point. the ultimate trust that goes into the act of George letting Dream go for a hookup, and knowing that George is always the one he's going to come back to. the knowledge that there's nobody out there George needs to be jealous of, because none of them will ever compare.

jealousy is the meat behind stories where they make each other crack and lay claim; George leaving hickies bigger and darker than the last girl Dream fucked. Dream stuck between horny and angry when George sends him a snap of a guy pounding him into the mattress. I even love the stories where they say they're not jealous (when they actually are) because they're so scared of losing each other over it that it explodes into a confrontation and desperate sex (even if the thesis of those stories ends up being that there was something they were capable of adding to their relationship to make them exclusive)

if you're not someone who experiences jealousy at all, you probably don't like the stories for the same reason which is absolutely fine!! thats the beauty of storytelling. but I don't think the reason people hate them is related to jealousy; jealousy is usually the point of them.

the other thing I think is interesting that you brought up, which sort of moves away from the original hall pass discussion, is the romantic dnf + qpr sapnap angle. people do tend to react badly to the idea that Sapnap could have relationships of similar importance and intimacy to dnf as they have with each other. generally the response I see is "well, yes, friendships can be just as important but Sapnap is straight and he wouldn't do [insert traditionally romantic/sexual thing] to dream or george".

which, regardless of if that's true or not, is sort of a moot point because qpr doesn't really take sexuality into account. it's a queering of the understanding of things that can or should go into a platonic relationship but you don't have to be queer to be in one. it's the framework you use to understand what is allowed or encouraged