#they both still have internalized misogyny to work through

[roosterforme]

Explicitly Yours | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: When Bob met you, he fell for you hard and fast. He thought you might be his perfect match, the one that would make his days feel full instead of lonely. He never would have dreamed you had a secret. But secrets are known to be revealed at the most inconvenient of times, and Bob's surprised hesitation could cost him the thing he wants most.

Warnings: Smut, oral, fluff, angst, misogyny, language, mentions of adult film industry

Length: 11k words (what have I done?)

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Former Pornstar!Female Reader

This was written for International Bob Floyd Fucks Month hosted by @attapullman. Check my masterlist for more! Banner by @thedroneranger

Bob was fresh off of a long deployment when he returned to work at North Island on Monday morning to find he would begin training as part of a new taskforce. He was tired and antsy, still overstimulated from being around so many people on the aircraft carrier, but he was also realizing how lonely he was. 

He'd arrived back to a sterile, empty, dusty apartment, slept for two days, and now he was back to work. He couldn't even have a cat or a houseplant. He really would like to have a cat or a houseplant. Mostly he thought about how nice it would be to have a girlfriend. A sweet one who would wait for him to return home so his apartment didn't feel so sad. One who didn't mind that sometimes he preferred it to be quiet. One who would let him dote on her a little bit when he was home.

When he was told to report to Classroom Six in his uniform instead of the tarmac in his flight suit, Bob knew it was going to be a long day. That idea only grew as soon as he walked in and was accosted by his friends. "You're back!" Natasha screeched, streaking across the room like a brunette cannonball and slamming into his arms. "It's not even fair that we weren't deployed together. I missed you!"

"Missed you too, Nat. Thanks for all the emails."

Then he felt Bradley, Jake and Javy all jostling him around until his glasses were crooked on his face. That's probably why he did a double take when he saw you. There was no way you were that beautiful. His glasses must need to be adjusted on his face. But he was wrong. You looked the same after he pushed his wire frames back into place. 

He swallowed hard and whispered, "Who's that?"

The guys all looked at him with matching smirks, and Javy told him your name. "Civilian. She's Warlock's new assistant. Got reassigned from a different department last week."

"She's real cute," Jake added. "And she looks so familiar."

"Why does she look so familiar?" Bradley asked, and Bob realized that the whole group was staring at you where you were conversing quietly with Warlock. "We've been trying to figure it out for a week."

You didn't look familiar to Bob. You just looked pretty with bright eyes and a friendly smile, both of which were trained on him now. Of course you were looking his way now, because everyone had mussed up his hair and wrinkled his uniform. He didn't mind so much that you caught him staring, because you were the kind of woman who must get that a lot.

"Lieutenant Floyd," Admiral Bates said as he stood, and Bob saluted his superior officer immediately. "Welcome back."

"Sir," Bob replied, doing his best not to let his gaze drift back to you. "Thank you."

Then Warlock called the room to order, and Bob ended up sitting in the front row, directly across from you. Barely six feet away. You were so pretty, it wasn't even funny. The curve of your face and your neck and the way you moved were mesmerizing. Smooth and fluid. Confident. Beautiful. You kept Warlock on task and seemed to have all the pertinent information about the class memorized. But all of it was lost on Bob, because he was way too distracted. 

By lunchtime, he had sweat through his undershirt, and he was sure his uniform shirt wasn't looking much better. The way you turned to look directly at him with a slightly guarded expression when you stood made him blush. It must be obvious to you that Bob couldn't keep his eyes off your face.

"Hi," you greeted. "Lieutenant Floyd."

Bob swallowed hard before something that sounded vaguely like Hello came out of his mouth. 

Your smile was tinged with a little sadness as you stuck out your hand. "I've been looking forward to meeting the last team member. Welcome back from deployment, Lieutenant."

And then you were walking away, but Bob was still sweating.

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

For the next four days, Bob got there early to ensure he had that same front row seat. He had a full blown crush. Heart pounding, palms damp, unable to focus on anything other than his crush on you. When he wasn't at work looking right at you, he was daydreaming about you. When he wasn't daydreaming about you, he was asleep and having actual dreams where you were his girlfriend. In one of them, you gave him a back massage, and he woke up with an erection. 

He could barely even look at you for the nauseous feeling that took up residence just below his pounding heart, but he couldn't look anywhere else. He'd never been like this before. Sure, he'd been attracted to many women in the past, but this was something else entirely. 

"But why is she so familiar looking?" Jake asked Bradley at lunch. "You sure you didn't fuck her?"

"Oh, I think I'd remember fucking someone that looked like that," Bradley replied with a chuckle. "Wait... did you fuck her?"

"I don't think so?" Jake replied, looking a little panicked. "She's not the one I went home with on my birthday, is she? Because you know I can't remember that night. And if I fucked her and can't remember it, then I deserve to be executed."

They both erupted into laughter with Javy, and Bob felt deflated. One of the three of them was definitely going to ask you out sooner rather than later, and instead of getting an occasional guarded glance in his direction, Bob would have nothing.

That night at the bar, he sat with his cup of peanuts and talked with Nat about work while everyone else played pool. "I guess we have another week or two of lectures ahead of us, but I can't wait to get back in the air."

"Yeah," Bob replied, glancing around the room in case the Hard Deck was your Friday night scene. It wasn't really his, but he came for his friends. And if he got to spend another week or two in the classroom, he wasn't going to complain; there would be no way for him to look at you when he was in the cockpit. 

"Bob!" Javy called as if he'd been trying to get his attention for a few minutes. He was waving a pool cue. "Take over for me. I need to go shoot my shot."

As Bob stood, he watched Javy head off into the crowd toward a woman who looked like you. He did a double take, his heart leaping up into his throat as Bradley started to push him closer to the pool table. Javy saw you. He was going to ask you out. A feeling of devastation filled his lungs, but then the woman turned around, and it wasn't you. Her smile wasn't nearly as pretty, and she didn't have the same eyes. 

Relieved, Bob sank the seven ball before running the table like he was some sort of pro. But he knew deep inside that he was going to have to ask you out himself or miss out on even having a chance with you. 

Every day the following week, he tried to give himself a pep talk. He could do this. Even if you said no, it would be fine. It would be good practice for him. But he knew it would not be okay. He liked the sound of your voice and the way you moved, and he thought about you in every room of his apartment doing a wide variety of things. Some of them made him blush.

He couldn't tell if it would be worse to never even try or to have to live with himself after you looked at him and said you weren't interested. At least if he kept things quiet, the guys couldn't find a way to make fun of him. And although they all liked to talk about you at lunch, to his knowledge, none of them had asked you on a date. Maybe they were as intimidated as him.

On Wednesday, you dropped your pen, and Bob picked it up for you. He got a "Thanks, Lieutenant Floyd," in response along with a cautious smile. Then on Thursday, he helped you move the projector before class started, and you said, "Thanks. You're a lot stronger than I am." He felt like he floated to his seat after that. 

On Friday, disaster struck. You were organizing your stack of notes at the end of the day when Bob stood. But then Bradley was there, leaning on the table in front of you after everyone had been dismissed. "Hey, so the guys and I were wondering if you ever made it out to the Hard Deck on Friday nights? I'd love to buy you a drink."

Bob nearly collapsed back into his seat as he watched your eyes searching Bradley's face like you were trying to tell if he was lying. "No, actually. I play Dungeons & Dragons most Friday nights."

A strangled sound escaped Bob. "You play D&D?" he asked before he could think better of it. 

"Yeah," you replied easily, giving him a little smile. "Been into it for years."

"Me too," he added, and you set down everything you'd been holding. 

"It must be hard to be part of a campaign when you deploy on occasion?" you asked, and Bob was convinced he wouldn't notice if a freight train was about to hit him. 

He nodded and took a step closer, watching you stand up. "It can be, yeah. But I've been in the same campaign for a few years, so I'd like to think I'm an integral enough part of it that everyone else doesn't mind waiting for me."

You laughed. It was so pretty. "I'm sure they don't mind one bit, Lieutenant Floyd."

"You can call me Bob," he blurted out, eyes going wide as you licked your lips and grinned. 

"Okay. Bob."

He could do this. He was already part way there, he thought. Just a little further. "Maybe you and I could get coffee this weekend and talk about our characters?"

When he was met with silence and your softly parted lips, he wanted to disappear. But your expression was trained on his face, and even though you still seemed a little hesitant, you asked, "Like a date? Because I'm free on Sunday."

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You were laughing so hard, you had to set your coffee cup down next to your scone, and Bob was basking in the sound of it. "No, Bob! That's why I made my character a Rogue! Because I could never be such a scoundrel in real life!" He just listened to your laughter taper off while he grinned in the middle of the crowded cafe where you only seemed to be focused on him. 

"Well, that's why I made mine a Sorcerer. I don't know if you knew this about me, but I can't actually cast spells."

You started to laugh again. "Could have fooled me." But he must have been looking at you for too long, because you brought your hand up to your lips and asked, "Do I have crumbs on my face or something?"

"No, your face is perfect," he replied without considering his words, but your look of slightly embarrassed delight outweighed the tinge of mortification he felt.

You searched his eyes, seemingly always trying to gauge his sincerity. Then you surprised him when you said, "You're really sweet. It's refreshing." 

Bob looked down at his hands, unsure how to respond but pleased nonetheless. "Will you let me take you to a movie? Or dinner? Or both?"

"Yes."

The following morning at work, you were as focused on Bob as he was on you. The sweaty palms and erratically beating heart were back, only exacerbated by your alluring gaze and the promise of a second date on Thursday night. You agreed to dinner at an Italian restaurant, and Bob was already excited. 

"Why are you acting so strange?" Nat asked at lunchtime. "You're like both weirdly quiet and also talking so much?"

Bob laughed and said, "I went out on a date yesterday." And when he said it was with you, her eyes went wide. "We're going out again on Thursday."

"Bob!" she gasped, and now all of the guys were looking at him, and there was no way he would ever recover from this as Nat told them he got coffee with you.

"Welcome to the big leagues, buddy," Jake drawled, while Bradley glared at him. "Just wish I could figure out why she seems so familiar. Like it's just stuck in the back of my mind somehow. Like I know her."

"None of you know her as well as Bob does," Nat said with a laugh that made him smile. Before you and he parted ways at the coffee shop, you'd squeezed his hand in your smaller one, and it was already one of the sexiest moments of his life.

"Fuck you, Bob," Bradley grumbled. 

But it didn't matter. Bob really liked you and the fact that you talked about your Dungeons & Dragons character for a full hour. And your pretty face and your laugh. And the way you seemed interested in what he had to say. You were checking off all of the boxes for him. Smart, funny, kind of nerdy, interesting. He wondered how many dates he should take you on before asking you to be his girlfriend.

On Wednesday, as soon as Warlock dismissed everyone, you handed Bob a folded up note.

I can't wait for dinner tomorrow night. Here's my number.

He waited until he was home and sitting on his couch before he texted you. Less than a minute later, you responded. And that's how he spent the rest of his night. He didn't even eat until after nine, too wrapped up in what you had to say. Those intrusive thoughts and daydreams and real dreams about you in his apartment were starting to seem like they could be a reality. That's what he wanted. He could already picture you on the couch, wrapped up in the afghan his mom made, watching a movie with him. Or in his kitchen, helping him make dinner. 

He fell asleep on the couch in his uniform, too absorbed in this conversation to even go to bed properly. But that was fine, because suddenly it was Thursday, and not only would he see you all day at work, he'd get to eat with you and learn more about you.

Once again, Bob slid into that front row seat, and you had to work at keeping the smile from your face all morning. When you did look his way, he felt his breath catch in his throat. He was sure he'd pass out if you kissed him, and suddenly that was the only thing he could think about. Warlock talked about aggressive maneuvering, and Bob thought about your lips. Warlock talked about safety protocols, and Bob thought about your lips touching his.

It would be a miracle if he made it through dinner, but he had to try. You stood and started walking out of the classroom at the end of the day, but you turned back and said, "I'll meet you there at 7:30."

Bob offered to pick you up, but you said you'd drive yourself, and now he had more than two hours to kill. He took a long shower and fixed his hair before dressing in the outfit that Nat had pre-approved for him. He made sure his glasses were straight and that he had his credit card. The only other thing he could do was hope the conversation would come as easily for him this time, as it had over coffee.

He shouldn't have been worried about that. What he should have been worried about was the way his heart stopped when you walked through the front doors of the restaurant and directly for him, wearing a pretty blue dress with your face all made up like he was someone to impress. 

"Hi, Bob," you whispered. Then you kissed his cheek at the same time that he started to turn his head, and his lips nudged yours. He stood there shocked as you slipped your hand into his, and you started to tug him toward the waiting table when his name was called. 

His ears didn't stop burning the whole night. His brain kept circling back to the idea of another kiss. An intentional one. A kiss after a second date was not something he'd ever attempted before, but he was going to do it tonight. Based on the way you were looking at him, he had to. 

"Do you want more wine?" you asked, holding up the bottle. 

"Yes, please," he replied, because that would definitely help his cause. 

You smiled as you poured him some. "You have lovely manners." When you set the bottle down, you added, "And really pretty eyes."

Bob counted to three and then said, "I know we didn't even eat dessert yet, but I really like you. And tomorrow is your D&D night, but maybe you'll let me take you to a movie on Saturday?"

After dinner, in the parking lot next to your car, Bob kissed you. Intentionally. The first tilt of his head was hesitant, and when his lips met yours, he started to get nervous and pull away. But you let your fingers tangle in his hair, and you chased him for another kiss. "Which movie are we seeing?" you asked as you rubbed your nose gently along his.

"You can pick," he replied before kissing you again. "I just want to be around you." And then his hands found the small of your back and you inched yourself closer until your chest was touching his and your knee was bumping his leg.

You were smiling when he finally pulled his face away from yours. "I'll text you my address and the movie I want to see."

Bob smiled, too. "And then I'll pick you up, and we can go to the theater."

This was probably the best week of his life. He watched you pull out of the parking lot, and you waved to him through your window after you blew him a kiss. He went home and thought about what he might be able to cook for date number four. Perhaps you'd want to do the movie on Saturday and then have dinner at his place on Sunday? He'd figure it out. Either way, he was excited for more. 

"A third date?" Nat asked on Friday when everyone was taking a break in the classroom. "Damn, Bob." 

He eyed you where you stood talking quietly with Warlock, and you glanced his way, a soft smile on your lips. "I really like her. She's different. In a good way. And she makes me feel comfortable."

Nat rubbed his back in slow circles. "Make sure you put your arm around her during the movie. She might be expecting it. But if she doesn't snuggle against you, then you should remove it."

He nodded and swallowed. "Right. I can do that. Is it too soon to invite her over to my apartment for dinner?"

"I don't think so," she replied softly. "And maybe you should buy some condoms."

Bob's cheeks immediately flushed, but he didn't mind too much, since it was just Nat. "I don't think I'm ready for that yet."

"She seems sweet. Just tell her what you're feeling when the time comes."

Now everything was making Bob a little nervous as he drove through your neighborhood on Saturday night. He passed modern beachfront house after modern beachfront house, and then his GPS told him he had arrived. He saw your car in the driveway, but the house was gorgeous and must be worth a ton of money. Maybe you had a roommate? 

He parked his old truck and headed up the sidewalk with butterflies in his stomach and a bouquet of flowers in his hand. You opened the door before he even knocked, and then you were in his arms and invading his senses. "Are those for me?" you asked, kissing his cheek and poking the flowers. 

"Yes," he whispered, silently begging you to let him hold you for a few more seconds while he caught his breath and got himself under control. You turned him on in every way, and he'd never encountered this before. 

Your soft voice next to his ear as you chuckled and said, "Thanks, Bob," was not helping. You led him inside, and your house was incredible. There were no signs of a roommate, but there was a view of the ocean from the windows along the back of the house. He watched you bend in your little dress to find a vase for the flowers, and he felt completely overwhelmed. 

"Ready to go?" you asked, reaching for his hand a minute later. Your eyes were eager and sincere as you gazed up at him. Your fingers were laced with his, and Bob realized if he wanted to get to the next step with you, he needed to get through tonight.

"Yes." He kissed your lips softly, and you leaned against his arm as he walked you out to his truck. 

You spent the drive to the movie theater telling him all about your Friday night playing Dungeons & Dragons, and of course Bob felt more relaxed. He bought the tickets, and you got the popcorn, and when he put his arm around your shoulders, you snuggled against him, so he kept it there. By the end of the movie, the empty popcorn bucket was on the floor, and you had your palm resting on his thigh. 

"Did you like it?" you asked softly while the end credits scrolled. 

"Yes, I liked it," he promised, accepting another of your kisses.

"It's still early. Want to grab a drink somewhere?"

Bob really only knew one place, because he spent an awful lot of his free time there. "Should we hit up the Hard Deck? And then I can take you home and hopefully get another goodnight kiss?"

You had one eyebrow raised as you considered him. "Even after the third date? You're not going to try to make a move?"

Embarrassment flooded his cheeks as he muttered, "Not yet." And then your lips were all over his like he'd answered your questions correctly, even though he felt like his thoughts on the matter were actually probably wrong according to most people.

Eventually the two of you made your way to the bar, but visiting the Hard Deck was a mistake that he didn't see coming. You were tucked perfectly against his side as Bob walked across the parking lot and listened to you tell him how much you liked working for Admiral Bates. Then you ordered two vodka sodas, and Bob had to pluck your credit card from your hand to keep you from paying for them. 

"Hey!" you complained, but he just smiled. 

"I'll give it back later." He was rewarded with another kiss on the cheek, this one very close to his lips. 

"Well, look who's here," Jake drawled obnoxiously over the music from the jukebox and the noise from the crowd. "Bob and his friend."

You rolled your eyes and laughed, but you kept one hand linked with his as the drinks were set down. "Should we say hi to your friends?" you asked, and Bob nodded even though he really wanted to just find a small table on the other side of the room. But Nat looked excited, and the other guys looked annoyed, so Bob thought a short detour might be fun.

"Hey," Bob greeted everyone as you sipped your drink. 

"How was the movie?" Nat asked, elbowing Bradley in the side before he could say anything.

"Pretty good," you replied. "You know, for one of those Academy Award bait films." 

Bob laughed and looked at you. "I liked it a lot, actually." Or maybe he just liked sitting with his arm around you for two hours at a time, but he wasn't going to say that in front of everyone else.

Javy tapped a pool cue on the ground and asked, "Do you like to see a lot of movies?"

You nodded with a bit of an apprehensive look on your face that had Bob just about ready to pull you over to the table that another couple was vacating. "Yeah... I like films," you replied softly. 

And then Jake's jaw dropped open and he slapped the edge of the pool table. "Oh my god!" His green eyes were wide as he looked you up and down from head to toe with a smirk that made Bob want to stand in front of you. "That's why you look so familiar! You're Roxy Luxxe."

"Oh, fuck," Javy said as he dropped the pool cue on Nat's foot, and Bradley choked on his beer. 

But Bob just stood there and watched your posture stiffen and the look of apprehension on your face grow. "Who?" he asked softly, but you wouldn't meet his eyes.

"She's a porn star, Bob!" Jake said a little too loudly as he hooted. "A very memorable one, too. Played up different movie genres. Everyone I Did Last Summer. Sisterhood of the Traveling Sluts. Laid in Manhattan. Some real classics!"

"I retired," you said firmly, holding eye contact with Jake even though your voice sounded strained. "I left the industry five years ago."

"Guys," Nat said with a warning tone as she looked at Bob who was frozen in place, his head swarming with wild thoughts. An adult film star? You? But you worked at Top Gun and played D&D and liked scones. You went on three dates with Bob of all people.

Now Nat was physically moving Javy, Bradley and Jake back toward the game of pool, snapping her fingers at them as they continued to ogle you in your pretty dress. "So..." you whispered, turning toward Bob, looking anywhere but at his face. "That was... yeah..."

He had no idea what to say right now, and the longer he went without saying anything, the worse he felt inside. You used to have a job making adult films? Bob couldn't even handle watching those without blushing and stuttering. You must have had sex with dozens and dozens of different men and probably women too, and Bob suddenly realized he could go home and watch them for himself if he really wanted.

"Right," you said, finally looking at him as your eyes started to fill with tears. "Well... no hard feelings, Bob. I'll see you at work on Monday." Then you set your drink down, covered your mouth with one hand and made a beeline for the door.

Bob looked at the drink in his hand, and then at the one you set down. He left his on the table next to yours and followed you out to the parking lot. He looked around, calling your name and checking to see if you were by his truck, but you didn't respond. You were gone. 

Roxy Luxxe. That name was made up, and he didn't think it suited you as well as your real name. That one was perfect, and he liked it. He liked you. He could drive back to your house, but if you didn't want to talk to him, then what was the point? He'd already embarrassed himself by clamming up. But even worse, he thought he might have embarrassed you. 

"Damn it," he muttered, angry at Jake and all of them for making you feel small, and angry at himself, too. He got in his truck and drove himself home.

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

Well. You got three perfect dates before it all blew up in your face. Three amazing dates with Bob who was going to look at you like you were no longer worthy of his time now. Sure, you would have told him eventually. After another date or two, you would have brought it up in such a way that perhaps could have been a little bit more flattering or at least slightly tasteful. But of course you should have been expecting this. It wasn't the first time. Getting older only did so much for your face, and it didn't matter how much you changed your hair and makeup: Once Roxy Luxxe, always Roxy Luxxe.

You really thought none of them recognized you. It was almost refreshing that Bob had never heard of your alter ego. He probably never saw a single video of you having sex with Sam Slick or Dickie Divine. He didn't know exactly what your tits looked like, because you'd never taken your shirt off for him in person. He didn't know how you sounded when you faked an orgasm. As you ran down the block and got an Uber, you could hear Bob calling for you.

You weren't ashamed or embarrassed. You were not. This was your life, and you made every decision along the way for yourself. Nobody else. You put yourself through school. You bought the house of your dreams. You had an amazing job at Top Gun now for fuck's sake. But Bob was the first guy you met in a long time who made you think you could have a relationship with someone who wouldn't judge you for your past.

You walked from your Uber into your house and kicked your shoes across the entryway. More tears were filling your eyes, but you didn't want to cry again. Not over this. "But he was sweet," you whispered to your reflection in the hall mirror. His friends were kind of assholes, but he wasn't. Even if he didn't want to be with you now, which was understandable, those three dates were something else. Dungeons & Dragons discussions and coffee and pasta. 

You sighed wistfully at the flowers in your kitchen. Maybe a few more years and you'd look even less like Roxy Luxxe. That might make things easier to navigate. You made yourself a cup of tea and grabbed some crackers and sat out on your back deck where the moonlight reflected off of the ocean. The way Bob had wrapped his arm around you during the movie made it easy to imagine him here with you, keeping you warm. Instead you grabbed a blanket and snuggled in as you thought about how he would have been an excellent boyfriend. 

"You win some, you lose some," you told the night sky. If he was bothered by your past which you had designed so you could have a future, then he wasn't the one for you. You fell asleep outside in your dress, and the rising sun eventually woke you up. When you stretched and stood, the chilly air sent you running inside and toward your shower. 

The memories of last night were hanging out in the periphery of your mind. Going to work tomorrow was going to be awful. If you didn't like Admiral Bates so much, you'd request to work under someone else. But then again, why should you have to go to work feeling bad? Yeah, it was going to sting to see Bob, but it was still your job, and you deserved to be happy. 

You showered and took your time until all of your skin felt fresh and new, and then you threw on some oversized sweats after you moisturized. After breakfast, you could see if one of your friends from D&D was free to hang out. You were finally just about to check your phone to see if Bob had attempted to reach you when you heard a knock at your door. 

Bob's truck was parked in your driveway just behind your car. You could see it through the front window. According to your phone, he tried to call you twice, and he'd send you a handful of texts. But now he was here and knocking again. It was obvious you were home, so you wrenched your front door open and stood before him with your chin held high.

"What do you need?" you asked, already feeling weak at the sight of his pretty blue eyes and his glasses. 

"Hi," he said softly, just staring at you. He looked exhausted, like maybe he hadn't slept. Then he fumbled around in his jeans pocket and pulled out your credit card. "This is yours."

You plucked it from his hand and started to close the door. "Thanks for returning it. I'll see you at work."

Then he said your name. Your real name. "Wait. Please?"

You pressed your lips together. "What do you want, Bob?" 

The soft rise and fall of his solid chest held your attention while he started stuttering. "L-Look. I'm really sorry about last night."

You nodded. "Me too." It wasn't like you wanted to know, but you couldn't stop yourself from asking, "I take it you went home and looked up my videos?"

His eyes went wide as you crossed your arms over your chest. "I didn't."

You actually believed him, but you felt like making yourself hurt anyway. "Your friends have all seen me naked. Watched me getting fucked."

He seemed surprisingly calm as he half shrugged and kind of nodded. "So what?"

As you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, you said, "I'm not ashamed of anything I've ever done, okay? And I would have told you about it after another date or two... before we slept together." When he remained silent you added, "I started out in the adult film industry when I was eighteen. I quit when I was twenty five. I just turned thirty last month, and I guess I was silly for thinking enough time had passed. But last night was a prime example of why I haven't even tried to date anyone. Ever, really."

Bob was gaping at you now. "Not ever? But you're... you're so..."

"I know," you said, cutting him off before he could finish. "I'm hot enough to do porn, but nobody wants to date me." 

You started to close the door again, but he scrambled. "N-No, that's not what I was going to say. I was going to say you're flawless. A-And I shouldn't have let you leave the bar like that last night."

Your fingers loosened on the door, and soon it was drifting away from you, opening wider for Bob as he stood there with an eager expression. God, you just really liked him. And he seemed like he was being sincere. "What would you have done differently last night?" you whispered. 

He started to reach for you before tucking his fingers in his jeans pocket. "I would have taken your hand in mine as soon as I saw tears in your eyes." You bit your lips as he added, "And I would have told you that I like you so much. And if you wanted to leave, then I would have driven you home right away and walked you to your door."

He liked you so much. If there was a chance that Bob could be the kind of guy who still liked you with your past as Roxy Luxxe but also wasn't just trying to get in your pants and meet her for himself, then you wanted to give him a shot. "What would you have done after you walked me to my door?"

He was breathing deeper like he was nervous, and you wanted to touch him. "I would have asked you for that goodnight kiss that I'd been hoping for all day."

You were rushing for his arms, clearly surprising him in the process, but he held onto you as you gave him just the softest kiss. "I would have let you have it." Bob's hands found their way to the most respectful spot on your back, and you kissed him a little deeper. 

As soon as you broke the kiss, his fingers flexed against your back, and he said, "I want to go on another date with you. A bunch more. But I want you to be sure about me. I don't really care about Roxy Luxxe. I'm sure she was lovely, but I like you." You laughed. You couldn't help it. And he smiled as he asked, "Maybe you can think about it today and let me know at work tomorrow?"

"Okay."

He nodded and let out the breath he was holding. "Okay. I'll see you tomorrow."

Your back felt cold where his hands used to be as you watched him walk back to his truck. He waved to you as he pulled out of your driveway, and you waved back with a different feeling in your heart than you had twenty minutes ago.

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

Bob was disappointed to find he would be in the air on Monday. When he arrived on base, he changed into his flight suit instead of his khaki uniform, wondering what that would mean when it came to seeing you. He'd slept poorly, wondering what your answer would be, hoping you'd say yes to another date.

"Hey, Bob," Jake drawled as Bob zipped up his flight suit. "How was your night with Roxy Luxxe?" He had a devilish smirk on his face, and Bob's skin was crawling. All of the other guys were looking at him now, and he knew his face was beet red. 

"I guess she was as good as she looks on film if she rendered you speechless," Jake added with a laugh. 

"Whoa, no," Javy said, shaking his head at Jake before looking at Bob. "Cut it out, man."

Bob counted to five, took a deep breath and then raised his forearm, and at least Jake had the decency to look panicked. Bradley stepped into the fray as Bob used his arm on Jake's chest to push him back against the lockers. Sure, Jake was more muscular, but Bob was no slouch, and he had a couple inches on him. "Don't call her that again. Don't even talk about her. While you're at it, don't look at her either."

Jake raised one eyebrow and nodded slightly, and Bob released him, walking right out of the locker room and making a quick detour to the classroom. But you weren't there. He ran his hands through his hair before he headed outside to find Nat. 

"Hey, there you are," she said gently. "You okay? After the bar and everything?"

"I'm fine," he replied, still looking around. "Have you seen her?"

"Mmhmm," she hummed, pointing behind Bob, and he whirled around in time to see you walk out of the tower with Warlock and Cyclone. You looked as pretty as you always did, and Bob found himself wanting you the same way today as he had last week. All of the daydreams about making breakfast together after holding you in his arms all night were still there. So were the thoughts about you snuggled up, laughing on his couch. But now he could also imagine taking walks on the beach where you lived.

Your gaze met his, and he watched you excuse yourself from the admirals before heading his way. Nat squeezed his bicep, and muttered good luck before making herself scarce, and then Bob was standing there with you a respectable three feet in front of him. 

"Lieutenant Floyd."

He smiled softly. "Good morning."

"So..." you began, looking down at his boots and pressing your lips together. "I'm free on Wednesday night. Or pretty much all day Saturday." Your eyes trailed up his body until you were nervously examining his face. "What did you have in mind for our fourth date?"

He felt like the wind had been knocked out of him. He'd been so apprehensive, afraid you were going to tell him to beat it, he hadn't bothered to come up with an actual date idea. "Cooking dinner at my place?" he blurted out.

You nodded like that sounded good to you. "Wednesday night then?"

He couldn't remember if he already had plans, but if he did, he'd cancel them immediately. "Yes. Wednesday. The day after tomorrow. Wednesday."

Your soft laughter filled him up as you turned and started to walk away, giving him just one word. "Wednesday."

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

You showed up to Bob's place with just a bottle of wine. He promised to take care of the rest. An hour later, a completely homemade pizza with fresh mozzarella and herbs was baking in the oven, and you had your arms draped around his neck. His lips tasted like the pinot noir the two of you had started drinking while you made the pizza, and his body felt strong and sure. As of right now, you thought you'd made the right choice by coming here.

"I really like you," he whispered for the third time this evening, and you believed him. You liked yourself. Why shouldn't he? 

"I like you, too, Bob." You reached up and adjusted his glasses before letting your fingers trail back through his hair. As his hands slid slowly down to your hips, it was easy to imagine how he might be in bed. Authentic. Meticulous. Earnest. Just like he was at work. The thought thrilled you to no end, but you were also afraid of the way you'd feel afterwards if you rushed it just to get the first one out of your system. So you let him hold you like you were important. 

The timer buzzed, and Bob laughed as you jumped further into his arms. You buried your face against his neck. "It's not funny." But you were laughing, too, and his lips met your hair. "Okay, it's kind of funny."

His stomach was growling, so you slowly pulled yourself free of his arms so he could put on his oven mitts. "Looks good," he remarked, but your gaze was fixed on him. "What do you think, Honey?" 

Bob's eyes went wide as he set the tray down, like he couldn't believe what he'd said. Your heart was absolutely thundering in your chest. "Looks good," you whispered in agreement. You hadn't looked at it. You were sure it was fine. You'd eat anything anyway. But he called you Honey, and you didn't mind it one bit.

You shared the pizza side by side on his couch along with the rest of the bottle of wine, and Bob listened to you tell him about your friends you meet up with on Fridays. And then he told you about his deployment as he finished the last few drops of wine. 

"I never really talk about this with anyone but Nat. This is nice," he said softly.

"Is it lonely?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper as he set down his glass and looked at you. 

You didn't want to rush him, because you could tell what he was going to say was important. And it was. His voice was a little rough as he looked at you and said, "Somehow it's lonelier when I come home. It's worse than being on an aircraft carrier in that I can't really have anything for myself here. There's nothing waiting for me. And a lot of the time, I feel like it would be too much to ask someone to do that. To wait for me. It would be a lot for someone to accept."

When you crawled onto his lap, he didn't stop you. And when you tilted his face up to make him look at you, his cheeks flushed pink, but his hands found your hips again. "I understand exactly how you feel." 

Then you kissed him, and you didn't stop for probably hours or maybe days. It felt that good. When you ended up beneath his warm body, you were so happy he came to your house on Sunday morning with your credit card. "Bob," you whimpered, and that seemed to bring him back from wherever his head was while he kissed his way down your neck and along your chest. His hair was a mess from your fingers, and his lips were a little puffy from the kisses, and you were pretty sure he wouldn't let you down again even if his friends were idiots.

You'd broken the spell, but he didn't seem to mind as he stood and pulled you to your feet. "It's getting late. We have work in the morning. Let me walk you to your car?"

At this rate, you were afraid you'd let him do anything he wanted, because he held your hand the whole way there. And he kissed you just right and told you he'd love to spend part of Saturday with you.

"Come over," you told him, and he promised he would.

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

It was chilly as Bob watched the sunset over the ocean from your back deck, but his body was warm from the combination of having you and your fleece blanket wrapped around him. You fit perfectly in his arms. Frankly, you seemed to fit pretty perfectly in his life. He wouldn't mind spending all of his Saturdays like this, listening to your gaming recap from the night before while you occasionally kissed the side of his neck. Your fingers were laced with his, and when you asked if he wanted to share a bottle of wine you got when you were in Napa Valley, he responded with a different question. 

"Is there any chance you'd want to be my girlfriend?" You shivered in his arms, so he wrapped you up a little tighter. "I can't stop thinking about you being the one waiting for me to get home from a deployment."

You didn't speak right away which made him apprehensive. He'd somehow been the one to push things too fast. This was something he'd never managed to do before. You tightened your grip on his hand as you said, "Bob... people are going to recognize me. It's going to happen sometimes, no matter what I try to do about it, and I-"

He cut you off with a kiss. "I don't care about that, Honey." Then more kisses. The bottle of wine in your kitchen was left forgotten as you carefully slipped one leg over Bob's lap and sat straddling him. You kept the blanket wrapped snug around both of you, your body nestled against his as your foreheads met. "I just really like you."

The sun had disappeared below the horizon. Everything was pink and purple and dusky and dreamy as your cheek nudged his glasses making him smile. "If you think you can handle being my boyfriend, then I'm not going to try to stop you."

Heart pounding, he asked, "So is that a yes?"

"Yes." Your kisses were slow and soft, and Bob kept chasing the smile on your lips, because he couldn't get enough. With his eyes closed, all he could hear was the ocean below and the soft sounds you made. All he could feel was your body everywhere. You smelled familiar. You tasted good. 

As you ran your fingers through his hair, your other hand trailed down to his shoulder, along his bicep and then across his chest. When Bob dared to let his hands dip from your waist to your hips and butt, you scooted a little bit closer. He realized when your fingers skimmed his abs that he had an erection. 

Embarrassed, he tried to break the kiss and move his hands, but as soon as he started to move, you pulled away first. In the dying light, he could see your wide eyes and the alluring rise and fall of your chest. Part of your lace bra strap was showing, and your nipples were obviously hard. His cock throbbed in his jeans as you asked, "Do you want to stop?"

He knew you could read the desire on his face. When he started to shake his head, you rubbed yourself against his jeans where he was hard for you. "No," he grunted, head tipping back as he panted. "I don't want to stop."

"Good," you whispered next to his ear, lips barely grazing him. "Neither do I." You took his hands in both of yours and brought them back up to your body, encouraging him to touch every curve.

He gasped your name as he watched you slowly rolling your hips against him, seemingly in no hurry as you bit your lip. When he reached for the hem of your shirt, you didn't stop him, and he tossed it aside. Your body looked magical in the twilight, and as he reached for your bra clasp, realization hit him. 

You were used to a certain caliber of partner for these kinds of activities. Standards he probably couldn't meet. "You're hesitating again," you whispered, voice breaking a little bit on the last word. "If you don't think you want to do this with me, I completely understand, Bob."

It was getting difficult to read your expression in the darkness, but when you stopped touching him and pulled your arms to your sides, he started to panic. "It's not that," he promised. "But you've been with... p-professionals. Guys who know what they're... doing." He ran his hands through his own hair. "And I'm not the most experienced. I've only had two partners."

"Oh, Bob," you moaned, and his cock ached at the sound. He wanted you. His whole body was screaming for it, and then he watched as you unhooked your own bra and let it slide down your arms and fall from your fingers. Your body was flawless, back arched, every curve designed to make him crazy. He made a sound somewhere between a groan and a whine as you leaned in closer and kissed him. "You'll be so much better."

Your bare skin was everywhere as the blanket slipped from around you. Bob's hands splayed across your back to keep you warm, but the supple feel of you had him thrusting against your core as he gingerly ran his thumb along the side of your breast. "So much better!" you whispered before pulling his bottom lip between yours.

He was still a little nervous, throbbing against you in his pants like a teenager as he cupped your breast in his rough palm. When you trailed your lips down his neck, he said, "I just want to be good enough for you."

Bob was thankful it was dark and you couldn't see him blushing as you nipped his earlobe and giggled. "Bob. You're better, because you're real. And you're turning me on, because we're not faking anything." You moved your right hand down between your bodies and squeezed his cock through his jeans as you sucked on his neck. "There's nothing fake about this."

He was gasping as he reached for your hand. "Honey." He couldn't take too much more teasing, or at this rate, he'd finish before his pants were off. "Can we go inside?"

You were off his lap and reaching for him with both hands, pulling him to his feet and closer to you. "My bedroom sound good?"

"Yes." 

It was honestly difficult to walk. You led him through the sliding glass door and inside where the soft lighting somehow made your topless body look even more stunning. You brought him down the short hallway to your room, walking backwards and looking up at him with a smirk as you unzipped his jeans. He made another unintelligible noise as he watched the way your breasts swayed and bounced with each movement. 

Your bedside lamp provided the only light, and Bob was still looking around, trying to get his bearings, when you pulled his shirt and undershirt off. "Oh," you gasped, running your palms up his flat stomach to his slightly broader chest. "God." He couldn't fathom that you liked what you saw and felt enough to leave you panting his name, but you definitely were. Then your hand was down the front of his unzipped jeans, and he grinned as you tried your best to wrap your hand around his length, your eyes growing wide. "Bob."

And now he wasn't really nervous, because this actually felt really easy and good with you. You were giving him all the queues that you wanted more. You were kissing him as you stumbled to the bed. You were trying your best to get your hand around his cock, but you couldn't. He picked you up and hauled you up to the pillows, and you squealed. All he could see was your beautiful smile as you kissed him over and over, only pulling away to run your nose along his cheek and whisper his name. 

He watched you shimmy out of your yoga pants and underwear and push them aside, and it was no wonder you were able to make a career out of using your body the way you did. But if most of that was just acting, then he wasn't going to let you down now. He watched as your head tipped back, and you pressed yourself up against his hands when he gently squeezed your breasts. Mesmerized by all of this, he let his hands drift down over your ribs and along your sides until he was met by your hips.

Bob worked his hands slowly back up your body and down again, pausing to press his lips to your breasts as you arched for him again. You felt soft, and you were sensitive, running your bare foot up and down his leg as you whimpered. When he squeezed your hips again, he let his gaze fall below your belly button.

His voice was soft and deep as he asked, "Is it okay if I taste you, Honey?"

You instantly spread your legs a little wider, grabbed him by his hair, and said, "Please."

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

Bob's hands were huge, with thick veins and graceful, calloused fingers. All he was doing was touching you and kissing you, and you were very fucking worked up. This was already a treat, just being with a guy who wasn't grabbing at you and trying to shove his cock in your mouth. But it was more than that. It was the soft tone he used when he said your name and the way he was looking at you. 

Gentle but strong. That was how you'd describe your newly minted boyfriend. You smiled at him as he stroked his fingers down your sides. You hadn't had a boyfriend in years, and Bob was so sweet and handsome, it was absolutely outrageous. 

"Is it okay if I taste you?"

All of that and he wanted to go down on you? "Please." Your voice was needy, and your body was so ready for him. You eased your thighs further apart so he could see all of you, and you let your fingers tangle in his soft hair. You were so excited, and when the wire rim of his glasses brushed the inside of your thigh, you shivered with pleasure. 

Then his lips met your pussy, and you almost went through the fucking ceiling. Those big hands were at your waist, holding you in place on the bed as he licked up along your slit, slowly tasting every inch before he hummed softly. You wanted to watch, but you could barely lift your head off of the pillow as he licked up again and again before kissing your clit. 

When you managed to prop yourself up on one elbow, you got a great view of his big cock hanging out of his unzipped jeans when he lifted his head away from your body. "Does it feel good?" he asked, and you laughed. He pulled away from you further, concern on his face as you started to reach for him.

Your nails scraped along the day's worth of stubble on his cheek as you sat up and kissed him, tasting yourself. You licked at his lips and chin, cleaning up the wetness before you whispered. "It feels better than good."

A few seconds later, you were on your back again, legs over his shoulders as he ate your pussy with fervor. All of your nerve endings were singing his praises. He had you spread with his rough thumbs, and when he looked up at you, even his nose was wet. Your hands were fisted at your sides while you gently rolled your hips against his mouth and whined at the perfect feel of him. "Shit. Fuck," you gasped. He sucked on you with just the right amount of pressure, and your toes were literally starting to curl. "Bob!" 

All you got in response was another hum of pleasure that made you squeal followed by some seriously lewd, wet sounds. His broad shoulders pushed against the backs of your thighs, and you felt him teasing at your opening with the tip of one finger. Tongue circling your clit, he glanced up at you over his crooked glasses. His cheeks were pink, and there was a sheen of sweat on his forehead as you reached for his hair again. "I want you to fuck me."

"Okay," he agreed, nodding his head like he hadn't brought you close with his mouth. He looked a little dazed and pussy drunk, and you thought you could fall in love with that expression on his handsome face. 

"Come here," you whispered, kneeling so you could kiss him. "You taste like me," you added, licking his cheek and chin. "And I love it."

"Honey," he growled, and when you looked down, you could tell he was aching. You pushed him onto his butt and helped him the rest of the way out of his jeans and snug briefs, his thick cock bouncing for you. Then you looked at him there in just his socks and glasses, and your entire body clenched with a need you'd never known before. 

You took his cock in both hands, leaned down and kissed away all of his precum while every muscle in his abs and both legs tensed up. "Holy shit," he gasped. When you tugged on his shoulders, he moved with you, covering your body with his own. His weight and warmth against your bare skin felt essential to your happiness, and when you kissed him, he said, "And you taste like me." 

His cheeks flushed a pretty pink as you ran your tongue along his lips. You couldn't get enough. He shifted his body slightly, and his cock came to rest on your slick clit, making you moan into his mouth. You arched away from him, moving your hips back and forth a few inches at a time, using his body to bring yourself pleasure as you clung to his arms. "God, Bob. You haven't even been inside me yet, and I'm a mess." 

The veins in his neck and forehead were more prominent as he panted, a bead of his sweat rolling down to the tip of his nose. You licked it away as you shifted your hips so he was positioned at your entrance. He was thick, and even though you were soaking wet now, you had to use one hand to help guide him. You shook your head from side to side, your body taking him slowly. He buried his forehead to your neck, and the bite of his glasses against your collar bone kept you grounded. 

"Honey," he moaned, clutching at your hips as he finally, finally bottomed out. You were completely full, already clenching around him softly and enjoying the rough feel of his trimmed hairs against your clit. He thrusted a few times like he couldn't help himself, and you kissed his forehead. "Am I hurting you?"

His neck was a little slick against your fingertips. You'd been fucked too rough or without enough lubrication to the point of it being painful several times before, but this was the exact opposite. "Bob, you feel incredible." He lifted his head and kissed your lips, rewarding you with another thrust. Your legs tangled with his as you pushed his hair back from his forehead and kissed him harder. 

His lips found their way to your neck and breasts, and his thrusts started coming quicker, but every smooth movement left you gripping at him, your body begging for more as you whimpered and whined. He murmured your name against your skin, sucking on your nipples until you were seeing stars. And each thrust filled you somehow better than the last. And every movement left you grinding your clit up for more. 

You were going to come. You were going to come so hard. You could feel it. The buildup was delicious. Lips and stubble and glasses on your breasts. Hands on your hips. Bob everywhere.

"I'm not wearing a condom. Honey," he panted. "I'm not wearing a condom."

"It's okay," you whined loudly, suddenly gasping and clawing at his shoulders for leverage. "You can come wherever you want."

He chose inside you. And you came, hard and long and loud, hands on his face while you kissed him. You knew he was going to be so much better. You called it from the start. From when he surprised you by asking you out for coffee. He was immediately better than anything else you anticipated for yourself, and even when he fumbled, he recovered. You ran your lips along his cheek and back to his ear and whispered, "You're so much better than faking it."

He rolled both of you onto your sides, facing each other while he was still deep inside you. "Please don't ever do that. Fake it," he said, voice deep and raspy as he ran his rough palm along your cheek. "I want to know I'm good enough for my girlfriend." 

You smiled and tucked your head under his chin, and he wrapped his arm around you. His skin was warm beneath your lips, and his words were soft and gentle. When he climbed out of bed, he asked where he could find a washcloth, and he came back with it a minute later, ready to help you get cleaned up. He even held your robe out for you and waited while you used the bathroom, but you did that quickly, finding you wanted to be right next to him as much as possible.

Bob looked delicious in his briefs and undershirt, and you wrapped your arms around his waist as you asked, "Do you want to go back out under the blanket? With the bottle of wine? We could look at the stars. Listen to the ocean before bed."

He kissed your forehead. "As long as I'm with you."

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

Six months later...

After eight weeks away, Bob was excited to get home. He really hoped this was the start of his deployments feeling lonelier than the time between them did. Especially since he was going home to you and the house where he moved all of his stuff as soon as you asked him to live with you. He couldn't wait to hold you all night and hear all about your Dungeons & Dragons campaign and ask how you'd been enjoying work.

As soon as the aircraft carrier started docking in San Diego, he was at one of the lower railings along with the other aviators, and he spotted you immediately. You were bouncing around at the front of the crowd shouting his name and waving like a lunatic, and he had missed you so much. "Hey, Honey!" he shouted, and you just jumped higher. 

"Damn, Floyd. That's your girl?" asked one of the guys he'd flown with.

"Yeah," he replied, never taking his eyes off you. "That's my girl."

Six and a half minutes later, he was practically running down the long ramp with his duffle on one shoulder to the spot where you were waiting for him. 

"Bob!" you screeched as he scooped you up in your tiny dress and kissed you until you were as breathless as he was. "I missed you. I love you so much, and I missed you."

"I want to go home, Honey," he said, kissing you again. "Take me home."

"Gladly," you gushed, grabbing his hand and leading him toward his own truck. "I have big plans for your big cock," you announced to everyone around you, and Bob felt his cheeks warm up. "Well, and the rest of you, too. We can make a pizza together and eat out on the deck."

"Anything you want," he promised, tossing his bag in the truck bed and pushing you against the door. "And I love you, too." 

You only let him kiss you for a few seconds, before you were pushing him away. "I know you do. Let's go home." You held his hand on the short ride, and when he pulled in the driveway, you yanked him right out and led him inside the house. 

This felt incredible, knowing you wanted him as badly as he wanted you, running hand in hand to the bedroom. Then you stopped short and turned to face him as he bumped into you with a laugh. "You know how you're kind of your alter ego right now when you're in your uniform? Lieutenant Floyd?"

"Yeah?" he whispered, leaning down to kiss you, but your lips curled into a smile as you backed away.

"Well... I thought you might like to meet my alter ego?" you asked softly, easing that little dress up to your hips and along your torso before pulling it over your head. You were standing there in the tiniest black thong and bra set known to mankind. "Do you want to meet Roxy Luxxe?"

Bob just nodded and reached down to palm himself through his khaki pants as he gaped at you and grunted, "Uh huh." If Roxy was just a playful extension of his girlfriend, then yes, he wanted to meet her. 

You bit your lip and coaxed him toward the bed, running your hands down your body to your hips where you played with your underwear. "Good. Because she wants to meet you, too. And she wants you to know she's only going to be available exclusively for Bob Floyd's enjoyment."

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

Thanks for reading this long one-shot! I wanted Bob to get to fuck a former pornstar, because nobody deserves such a treat the way Bob does! But then I got attached to them and had to make it special. Bob and the artist formerly known as Roxy Luxxe are adorable together. Thanks to @mak-32 @beyondthesefourwalls @thedroneranger and @sylviebell for your help!

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Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku General Profile

Yandere! Kyojuro Rengoku x fem! reader

Tw: kidnapping, stalking, violence, he breaks your fingers, Kyo feeds you bird-style and it's pretty gross and gnarly, delusions/detachment from reality, Stockholm Syndrome, masturbation, slight misogyny/traditional gender roles, forced motherhood, allusions to non-con, you and Kyo share a toothbrush ugh, lots of references to death, fem reader, MDNI

I do not condone any of the actions described in this post - this is fiction and should be treated as such. If you or a loved one is in a similar situation to anything contained in this post or my blog in general, please seek help. You're in charge of your internet consumption; please make responsible choices. With that, enjoy!

WC: 11K

DARLING PROFILE:

Caring 

Similarly to most other Hashira, Kyojuro is greatly attracted to honest, genuine kindness.

His world is so full of hatred, death, and pain, and having a darling who is softer, sweeter, more empathetic makes his heart swell.

(And, occasionally, other things will swell when he sees his darling smiling or complimenting or speaking with children - but Kyojuro pays it no mind. So you shouldn’t, either.)

There’s just something so alluring about a darling who genuinely cares for the people around them - he himself is quite positive, if not blunt, and a darling who can match his philosophy of protecting and caring for those who need it would be a perfect match.

He likes the idea of a darling who has the best intentions of others’ at heart; it’s refreshing to see and interact with someone who is so pure and wonderfully kind, because while his fellow slayers are certainly committed to a good cause, his darling is different.

They’re naturally sweet, utterly unaware of the horrors of this world and yet still striving to make others smile, still trying to help undo any wrongs those around them have experienced.

This aspect of his darling is one of the first things he notices about them, and while he’s not a selfish man by any means, he’ll grow to absolutely love when this caring nature is directed at him, particular after long, difficult missions where he’s both physically and emotionally exhausted, only desiring to hold something soft and sweet and warm.

Coincidentally, something exactly like his darling.

Passionate

The specific passion itself is inconsequential – it doesn’t matter what his darling loves, as long as they love something.

He himself is driven by internal motivation and a righteousness to help others, and while his darling doesn’t need to be quite this serious, he likes the idea of them having goals and aspirations.

The most likely way this manifests itself within his darling is through a creative platform – art, music, culinary arts, writing, or any sort of activity in which his darling can express themselves.

He likes that his darling has something they truly enjoy, and he’s the type to want to learn about and indulge in his darling’s passion.

He’ll eagerly listen to everything they have to say, absorbing the information with wide, glittering eyes and a smile, trying so very hard to listen to their words but getting repeatedly distracted by how utterly adorable they look when they’re concentrating.

He can’t stop admiring the way they look when they’re discussing their passion, how happy they become, radiating a sort of joy and glow that only makes him fall harder and deeper, his obsession solidifying with every smile they give him.

And he’ll fully foster this passion of theirs – he’s got access to any resources his darling can dream of, easily providing them and enjoying the way their face lights up, how they become so grateful.

His only caveat is that he has to watch them as they work at their passion, getting a front row seat to watch them enjoy themselves, his bright eyes fixed on them the entire time because god, how are they so utterly perfect?

It’s endearing to Kyojuro because in his mind, his darling looks at him that way, too, with a smile and undying love.

Ambitious

Now, his darling doesn’t need to be ambitious in the sense that they take huge risks, or even that they have high expectations and goals for themselves.

It can manifest this way, sure, but the main core of why he finds this personality trait attractive is because it shows drive.

He likes a darling who has a strong sense of self; he doesn’t want to change his beloved in any way; he wants to be their pillar of support, to offer unwavering help and encouragement for whatever pursuits they’re chasing after, no matter how big or small.

He thinks it’s a wonderful thing to have dreams for the future, just as he does – he dreams of Senjuro once again having a happy family (one he hopes his darling will help provide), and of all demons being eradicated so that the world can live peacefully.

He’ll cherish and respect any dreams his darling possesses, but only if they don’t interfere with what he believes should happen.

He prioritizes his relationship with his darling above many things, and this includes what his darling wants most.

He will be expecting them to dutifully become his loving partner and wife, to bear his children and help him raise them, to be a guiding, loving hand to teach them morality, charity, and all sorts of other things that his darling hardly believes he possesses.

So while he’ll likely crush the ambitions his darling possesses, the mere fact that they have ambitions is attractive to him.

Talkative

It’s not that Kyojuro can’t fall for a quieter darling, but rather that he wants someone who will match his chattiness.

He’s naturally quite loud, truly a boisterous man who loves to interact with others.

He’s constantly peppering his darling with questions, his voice a steady flow as he just talks and talks and talks, throwing compliments and them alongside grandiose declarations of love, all intermixed with small talk about the weather or the flowers on the sides of the village pathways, or even about the pretty birds flying in the sky.

He just likes interacting with his darling, and he needs someone that is willing to return his eagerness to talk.

He likes the way his darling’s attention stays on him when he’s speaking to them; how their eyes stay fixed on his form, how they nod along to his words, how they laugh at his outlandish, unbelievable claims and logic, how they just simply acknowledge him, making him feel comfortable and seen and wanted.

Kyojuro will want to spend hours talking with his darling, and he needs someone who can match this energy. He needs a darling who can pepper him with their own questions, who can keep the conversation flowing and keep the interaction alive.

Besides, Kyojuro has this unwavering, unsatiable curiosity for his beloved, one that can only be partially quelled when his darling is revealing more and more about themselves.

And he’ll eagerly listen, mentally storing away each new piece of information, remembering absolutely everything because everything about his darling is important, something that must be remembered and cherished and worshipped.

They’re just perfect, and if they’re naturally chatty, it only furthers his obsession. 

GENERAL YANDERE TRAITS:

Delusional 

Generally speaking, from the moment that Kyojuro’s feelings for you fully form, he’s absolutely, utterly under the impression that every emotion, desire and draw he feels towards you is returned fully. He honestly believes that you’re just as in love as he is, that the connection he’s so acutely aware of between the both of you is mutual, that you’re just as desperate and eager to be his partner, his lover, his wife and the woman he’ll spend the rest of his life with. 

He doesn’t have any real romantic experience - he’s been attracted to women before, sure, but he’s never courted someone before you simply because when he courts, he intends to wed. 

And as a result, his only real reference for romance is his own parents’ relationship. And while it was loving, beautiful, healthy while his mother was still alive, time and his changing father have left Kyojuro with a bit of a warped view of love. 

And this is where his delusions stem from - he’s confident, desperate for you to return the passionate feelings he holds for you, and he manages to convince himself of your growing love for him every day. 

He’s so sure, in fact, that even as his obsession with you forms (slowly, as he’s a bit picky about partners and can be a bit oblivious even towards his own feelings), so do the beginnings of his detachment from reality. As he slowly begins realizing that he enjoys being in your presence more than most other people, your smiles and greetings of oh hello Rengoku, I didn’t know you’d be here will seem more and more like you expressing your glee at having him by your side rather than a simple, platonic welcome. 

As he realizes that hearing you laugh makes his palms sweat and his heart race, he begins thinking your laugh is really for him, that your chuckles are stronger when they’re directed at him than compared to others. 

He’s imagining your pretty face lighting up with that radiant smile behind closed eyes when he’s falling asleep at night, and slowly he begins concluding that your every quirk of the lip towards him must mean that you’re happy with him, that his presence alone fills you with a sort of joy that you simply can’t hide. 

(And, perhaps you know that it’s you that fills his thoughts at night – maybe you’re purposefully plaguing his thoughts, trying to tell him something - perhaps you want him to think of you and your lovely mouth, the way your lips look when you say his name, how your tongue flicks out to wet them just so…) 

It’s mostly innocent in the beginning; his delusions manifest more as simply misreading the signals you send him, honest mistakes that aren’t too uncommon – but, as the relationship (or, at least the one Kyojuro is trying so very hard cultivate) progresses, these slips in judgment become more and more profound, more and more difficult to ignore. 

When he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest as he inhales deeply and enthusiastically greets you in a voice just a bit too breathy for your liking, Kyojuro sees your discreet attempts at ending the far-too-long hug as you merely trying to get comfortable. 

Surely you just want to feel more of his body against your own, or want him to be closer so that there’s nothing separating you from him, from the love he’s oh so willing to give you. 

When you bite your lip and avert your gaze as you politely ask him to stop staring at you so much and following you home, Kyojuro will simply smile, placing a hand on your shoulder and giving you a firm don’t worry, I don’t mind protecting you! It’s my place as a Hashira, after all, so don’t needlessly fret! 

He honestly doesn’t understand why you’re not as happy as he is, and frankly he can’t even really fathom the idea that you aren’t happy – how can he, when he’s been searching for so many years for a partner to love and spoil? 

How can he, when your body just seems to perfectly fit against his own, your voice like honey and your name a drug as it slips from his lips? 

How can he, when he’s seen his father so harshly decline, when the memory of his mother is still so fresh, when he wants so badly to build a family of his own, to give Senjuro another family to call his?

How can he, when you become the sole reason he begins valuing his own life during missions, not being as reckless because he needs to come home to you - you need your lover and husband, of course.

(In more ways than one - who will protect you? Provide for you? Pleasure you?) 

Kyojuro honestly latches onto you, his every thought and emotion revolving around you you you, to the point where even once he’s locked you away, deep inside the Rengoku residence with your shared bed and lovely, expensive new kimonos neatly folded in stacks upon stacks (all in shades of reds and golds, of course, to signify your status with him), he still won’t recognize that you’re always crying because you’re scared. 

He won’t realizethat you flinch when he touches you because you don’t want him anywhere near you. 

He won’t connect the dots that you spend each and every night curled up in a ball weeping because you just want to go home, please Kyojuro, please… 

Try as he may, he just can’t fathom that you aren’t as madly, desperately in love – so don’t bother, really, because it’s much more hassle than it’s worth, and in the end he’ll get what he wants. He always will get what he wants, so why don’t you just give in? 

He’ll never let you go, never believe any of your pleas to be freed from him, so why don’t you just accept his love? 

Protective 

Honestly, your personal combat abilities are irrelevant - in Kyojuro’s mind, you’re weak. Defenseless. Laughably unable to keep yourself safe and out of trouble - incapable, even, though it sounds a bit harsh.

He believes that you’re too fragile and sweet and wonderful to be anywhere near a demon, a human with bad intentions, or anything of the sort.

Your strengths lie not in battle, but in your charm and beauty - you’re so sweet, your words melting him like butter and leaving him as putty in your hands, his heart doing backflips in his chest as his fingers twitch to do anything and everything just to keep you smiling.

Your talents lie in the way you effortlessly intrigue him; your words ensnaring his attention no matter the topic, your touch sending electricity up his spine, even your most mundane actions making him stop and stare because every little thing you do is important.

You simply aren’t made for the battlefield, or for confrontation in general - he’s sure of it, and he’s arguably the most trustworthy source of judgment you could find. He’s a seasoned Hashira, seen more death than you can imagine, slaughtered more demons than you can count, so could he really be wrong in his assessment of your abilities?

He sees you as a bit of a baby, in all honesty, because while he’s more than aware of your womanly charms (the not so subtle way his eyes rake over your figure when he forces you to bathe with him is enough to convince you of that, if the way his hands ghost over the bulge of his trousers when you speak to him wasn’t enough), he still can’t shake the paranoia that you’ll one day be hurt.

He’s terrified that you can’t really take care of yourself as well as he can. And frankly, the paranoia isn’t unfounded – it’s difficult to fault him for his overprotectiveness when you think of his past, how often he sees death, and how often he’s the cause of it.

He’s too accustomed to seeing others’ lives lost, and he absolutely refuses to allow you the same fate, so long as he’s breathing and has enough finger strength to grip his sword and send air rushing through his lungs.

He’s determined to a disturbing degree to keep you safe; with every demon he decapitates, internally he’s sighing in relief because that’s one less monster that could potentially sink their claws into you - every demon dead is a step towards keeping you safe, healthy, alive, his.

He’s patronizing in an odd way, because while he doubts your capabilities, he doesn’t treat you like you’re a child. He’s just hovering, always, with his eyes glued to you and that same unnerving, wide smile on his lips that never seems to go away when you’re around him.

His gaze is wide and excited as he sees how you bring the bowl of soup to your lips to sip, the intensity of the way he watches making your hands tremble and a bit of the hot soup spill down to your chest.

He’ll let you feed yourself - for now - but as soon as you flinch, the heat and wetness making you cringe as you get up to clean yourself, he’s on you – a flash of yellow and red as he tut-tuts and uses the sleeve of his haori to wipe up the mess, a thumb against your lip and his face much too close to yours as he tells you to be careful, don’t hurt yourself, my flame.

He’s not letting you touch anything with sharp edges, for fear that you’ll trip and cut yourself, nor does he allow you permission to speak to anyone new that he hasn’t already extensively vetted in his own way.

(This comprises mostly of just simply observing someone, and the moment he sees something even slightly unfavorable - like a snarky comment or even having their hair be messy - he’s deciding that they’re not good enough to interact with you - you’re better than them, and speaking with them would only taint you, bringing you down from the pedestal he places you on.)

 He’s controlling, not allowing anyone into your life that isn’t himself, to the point that he’ll simply show up the second another man or woman begins speaking with you, a strong arm around your waist with fingers digging in much harsher than they should, that familiar smile tight on his lips.

He’s terrified that he’ll one day lose you, and in a lot of ways keeping you safe is his own way of living up to the expectations of his mother.

You’re weak, so damn weak, and you need someone to care for you, to be there for you and take care of you in your time of need, and Kyojuro is more than happy to take on the role, to take responsibility of your life and safety.

It’s a bit overwhelming, how he’s always offering to do tasks for you, interrupting you halfway through to take over with that broad grin of his, that laugh and a rambunctious what kind of lover would I be if I didn’t carry your groceries for you making it difficult to stop him.

And really, eventually you’ll get to the point of relenting and letting him to do as he pleases, because as much as the man may intimidate you, scare you or disturb you, there’s just something about his desperation to please you that’ll get you feeling oddly flattered, flustered simply because of the lengths he’s willing to go.

Because really, while it may scare you how his hand always seems to find a place at your hip, don’t all the stories and movies have chivalrous male leads helping guide the girl through crowded areas, a steady hand to help keep them grounded, just as Kyojuro does?

Sure, it’s weird how he knows the order from every restaurant in town that you like, how he’s always able to show up at just the right time with a steaming bowl of udon or whatever you’re feeling, but doesn’t it feel nice to be cared for, that he thought of you and made the stop to buy you something?

It may be disturbing how he gulps and smiles wider every time he sees you bend over, but isn’t it flattering to know that he finds your body attractive?

He won’t allow you to place a finger on anything or anyone that could hurt you, so you’d better get used to the life of a pampered housewife – because while it will take him a long while to allow you to cook with any sort of heat, there’s something oddly therapeutic about being your big, strong partner that provides for you, while you keep his bed and heart warm, all with that natural charm he finds so alluring. 

Clingy

Because Kyojuro’s perceptions of your relationship aren’t exactly realistic, he’ll come off as extremely, extremely needy to you. But it’s in a strange way – he’s not constantly clinging onto you, needing your reassurance and needing your eyes to stay focused entirely on him.

(He certainly won’t discourage this kind of behavior, of course, but he isn’t that outwardly desperate, and he isn’t the type to physically grasp your chin to keep you looking at him. He’ll perhaps grasp your hand or your waist to keep you at his hip, but he’s not quite that blatant.)

Instead, his clinginess manifests in how he’s simply always around you.

His presence will become a constant in your life – you’d be hard pressed to not see those familiar blond and red locks in your peripheral, or to hear that booming voice ringing in your ears. It would be difficult to find yourself in a public situation where Kyojuro isn’t standing diligently at your side, that blinding smile spread across his face, turning just a bit softer and a bit more earnest when it’s aimed at you.

Really, he simply hates being away from you. Not having you within his sight makes him nervous, anxiety itching at his stomach because where are you?

It’s not possessiveness, not a paranoia that you could be talking to other men, but rather an honest, genuine, horrible fear that you could be hurt, that someone could’ve taken you and injured you and touched you and possibly even have killed you.

And frankly, the fear isn’t too unfounded – you’ll understand why he's always rushing to you, literally running to catch up with you when you wander away from him, a steady hand pressing into your back as he pulls you into a hug, the faint smell of woodsmoke and musk filling your nose as the hard planes of his chest press against you.

It’s understandable, so you won’t really wonder why he’s always insisting on accompanying you every free moment he has, his presence acting as your shadow but much, much louder. It might make you uncomfortable, sure, because having someone always by your side is a little disorienting and overwhelming at times, but you’ll tolerate it – how can you tell Kyojuro no, anyway?

He’s so radiant when he’s giving you that smile, his eyes sparkling and his hands soft and gentle as he grasps onto yours, telling you that he’s so excited, we must try the new ramen shop down the street! I’ll order your favorite, you needn’t remind me what it is! I think we should share one, and perhaps a second or third…

(It’s probably not worth mentioning to him that you never even told him what your favorite is, he just seemed to know it, a fact that initially unnerved you, but you’ve found that guessing what you’ll like seems to be a talent of his. It’s not, of course, because he’s spent hours talking with any family members or friends of yours to learn every possible scrap of information about you that he can, introducing himself as your fiancé and charming them enough to get even the most sensitive secrets out of them, including your menstrual patterns, your bathing routine, even your temperament as a child because he’s convinced it will give him insight into the temperaments of your future – and inevitable – children together.)

You’ll disregard his penchant for always staying by your side in the beginning, but as time progresses it’ll become more difficult to let his behavior roll off your back.

Accompanying you to the market is fine, but you’ll bite your lip and find the courage to speak up when he ends up straying a good five feet behind you, his bright eyes burning holes into the back of your head as he keeps pace with you.

(When you turn around to ask him why he’s not walking with you, but rather trailing behind you like some sort of stalker, he’ll just laugh and tell you in that familiar, boisterous voice that he can protect you better this way! Besides, the view from this angle is excellent! Dissecting that last comment will only make you more uncomfortable, so you simply nod and keep walking, picking up your pace and desperately wishes you’d be arriving sooner.)

Him wanting to meet all your friends and acquaintances is fine, but when he’s pushing his way into the conversation and snaking an arm around your waist, you’ll feel just as awkward as your companions, disturbed by the casual manner with which Kyojuro handles you.

(This almost always leads to the assumption that the two of you are together, which you’ll frantically shake your head to, spouting some nonsense about being just friends that makes Kyojuro’s brows cock inwards, sending a glance at you with quizzical eyes. Just friends? You are certainly friends, but you’re more than that – friends don’t daydream about each other, and friends certainly don’t spend nights with ragged breaths, bucking hips, and the other’s name slipping from their lips like a prayer.)

He’s just a lot, and while you knew this from the beginning, time will only increase his behavior, pushing him more and more into spending time with you, into writing you letters while he’s away on a mission (they’re mostly detailing how much he misses you, telling you of each object and person that reminded him of you, and while it would be sweet, the sheer volume and frequency of these letters will make you loathed to open them), even into pushing past your boundaries and being much, much too familiar with you.

(You’ll bid him goodnight after he’s walked you home from the meal he insisted you share, but he doesn’t seem to get the hint and instead waltzes straight into your modest home, settling himself at your tableside and beaming at you, telling you to join me, my flame, I wish to hear about your deepest desires! He won’t insist on staying the night, as that would be too inappropriate for a not yet married couple – which he seems to be insinuating the two of you are – and will eventually take his leave, but not before gently grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss against your knuckles that’s much, much too wet, and far too long.)

His clinginess can be suffocating, of course, but once you’re stuck with him, forced to live in the Rengoku estate and call him your husband?

Well, if you thought he was needy before, it’s nothing compared to the way he treats you then – constantly wandering hands (concentrated mostly at your waist, hips, and squeezing your thighs), compliments that toe the line between heartfelt and disturbing (you are so very beautiful, particularly when you’re asleep – did you know that you smell a certain way when you’re unconscious? It’s sweet, like ripe fruit; I wish to smell it at all times), and those eyes always, always focused on you.

Every free moment he has goes into attending to you, whether you want it or not, so don’t even bother trying to get some distance from the Flame Pillar.

He will invade your space and he will not be regretful, his delusions most often barring him from even realizing that you’re uncomfortable.  

He’s simply a man who ardently admires and desires you, and at the end of the day, you can’t even really blame him. Because, as they say, love makes one do crazy things, and he’s certainly, certainly in love with you.

DEALING WITH RIVALS:

When it comes to jealousy, Kyojuro is surprisingly relatively unaffected, all things considered.

He’s not someone who’s biting at your heels the moment another man spares you a glance, and while he obviously doesn’t like the way other men interact with you, he’s not nearly as suffocating regarding his possessiveness as some of his fellow Hashira.

He tends to give others the benefit of the doubt, and while he’s still very protective over you and would immediately step in if another man posed a threat to your safety or comfort, he doesn’t automatically assume that any man who interacts with you has nefarious intent.

And so, he doesn’t immediately grow jealous and snarl at any man stupid enough to come within a few feet of you – he’s not as depraved, at least in that sense.

(In others, absolutely, but if Kyojuro has one redeeming quality, it’s his judgement of character.)

However, this isn’t because of some moral high ground the Pillar possesses, or a firm sense of lucidity – in fact, it’s quite the opposite, as his delusions drive most of his indifference regarding other men giving you attention.

He’s so, so confident in the idea that you’re meant for one another that he honestly doesn’t even register that you could interested in another man, that you could be stolen away from him willingly, that you could fall in love with anyone but the Flame Hashira himself.

He just doesn’t get it, and so he isn’t as suffocating as he could be in these situations – no, not by a long shot, something you’re admittedly equal parts lucky and unlucky for.

Because really, while you won’t have to deal with the isolation that comes with extreme levels of possessiveness, being Kyojuro’s darling is certainly not an easy ride – how can it be, when he’s so blatantly unaware of the signs in front of him that a man is coming on to you, that he’s smiling and flirting with you and reaching out to brush the hair away from your eyes while you bashfully grin and laugh at his lame jokes?

How can you not be unsettled with the way he’s so unaffected, always spouting nonsense about how in love you two are, how perfect of a match you are, how no man would ever dare take you away from me – how could anyone break such a real bond of love?

It’s disturbing, and as time passes slowly you’ll come to realize that while he won’t drag you kicking and screaming away from another man trying to get more than familiar with you, the alternative of watching him broadcast what he perceives to be your ‘relationship’ to every stranger who makes eye contact with you will get old very quickly, the feeling of him almost trying to show you off making your skin crawl and a cold sweat break out over your hairline.

Kyojuro isn’t subtle, not in the least, which is why the minute another man approaches you, you should be ready – the embarrassment will be thick, as will the discomfort of everyone involved (except the Hashira himself, of course).

So you might as well stop trying to converse with other people – after all, Kyojuro has no problem acting on his intuition, so won’t you just not give him a reason to be so extravagant? 

The moment the man in the small market stall shoots you a shy smile and approaches you, there’s already a sinking feeling settling in your gut, the knowledge that your self-proclaimed ‘lover’ is only a few stalls down making you bite your lip in anxiety.

He’s polite, by all accounts – full lips a pleasant pink color ask you about your opinion on the newest shipment of melons, the fruit laid out in front of you in a pleasing display. There’s a respectful distance of a few feet between your bodies, and his voice is soft, calming, the complete opposite of the boisterous, loud slayer you’ve come to be so close with. It’s refreshing, and you shoot him a smile as well as you point to a certain melon on the display.

This one looks ripe – you can tell, you know, by the markings on the fruit. The more yellow spots, the better the texture will be.

The man’s still looking at you, but his gaze shifts to the fruit as he nods in agreement. He laughs a bit, then reaches out to pick up the melon. I’ll trust your advice, then.

 The interaction is somewhat short, sweet and innocent, and though you get the feeling that the man finds you attractive (the light blush on his cheeks tells you as much), you don’t feel particularly uncomfortable.

But all too soon the peace of the moment is ending, and a familiar call of your name has your spine stiffening, your throat bobbing as you heavily swallow. The call comes again, and all too soon there’s an unfortunately familiar hand settling on your waist, Kyojuro’s muscular arm wrapping around your body and pulling you flush against his side.

Being so close in public would normally embarrass you, but you can’t find it in yourself to care when you know what’s coming.

My flame, who is this? A friend of yours? Kyojuro asks, and before you can open your mouth to answer, the stranger does.

Oh, um, I’m Takeru.

He’s visibly uncomfortable, and as you try to subtly squirm out of the slayer’s grasp, Kyojuro’s smile only widens.

He nods his head lightly, his smile growing even brighter. A pleasure to meet you, Takeru! I am Kyojuro Rengoku, thank you for helping keep her safe at this busy market place!

The man – Takeru – shifts awkwardly, unsure how to respond to such a strange comment, but it doesn’t seem to stop your unwanted companion.

You see, she has such a habit of wandering away in crowded places, and it makes it hard to keep an eye on her! You’d be amazed at how often I’ve seen her trip and fall in places like these!

 He laughs at that, and you feel a new kind of embarrassment eat away at you. Does he really need to be sharing all this information?

Yes, it’s very crowded, Takeru agrees, and you silently send him a pleading look. He blinks at you, discomfort clearly swimming in the black depths of his dark eyes, and internally you beg Kyojuro to just drag you both away from the stranger.

She can be so forgetful, but that’s the wonderful thing about love! Despite her clumsiness, she is still graceful and elegant to me, and that’s a sign of true love, wouldn’t you agree?

Takeru nods, hesitantly, and you grit your teeth.

Kyojuro sighs dreamily from beside you, squeezing you even tighter against his side. And I do love her, of course! She is my soulmate, the future mother of my children, and every time I gaze at her, my devotion only grows deeper!

You’re visibly embarrassed now, trying to cover your face and desperately willing the interaction to just be over, but Kyojuro doesn’t seem to hear your silent prayers.

He grabs your wrist gently, his lips pressing kisses against the inside of your wrist, and immediately you’re eyes grow wide. Surely he wouldn’t, not in a public setting –

He cuts your thoughts off with a press of his lips against yours, the groan that he releases against you making you shiver in anything but pleasure. Your eyes are still open, and you see Takeru staring with a dropped jaw, evidently shocked at Kyojuro’s blatant display of affection.

Your brows furrow, and as he slips his tongue past your lips, you find yourself only able to focus on the way Kyojuro is growing louder, his groans getting more pronounced as the kiss grows hungrier, more desperate, feeling less like a tender, heartfelt sign of love.

After a good two minutes he finally pulls away, your lips feeling sticky and wet from his saliva. He stares down at you with heady eyes, his tongue licking his lips as he whispers your name under his breath.

You go to say his name, to ask him if you can just leave the market, but he cuts you off with a laugh.

Oh my flame, where did Takeru go? We must have scared him off with our display of passion! My sincere hopes that he’ll one day find a love like ours.

You very much don’t wish that, but as Kyojuro grasps your hand and guides you to the edge of the market place, passing through the spot Takeru had departed from during your sudden and overtly steamy kiss, you’ll find yourself sighing.

The blatant act of romance was unwarranted and unwanted, of course, but somehow your lips are tingling, your heart racing in shamefulness and something else – something that grows stronger and Kyojuro turns to look back at you, a grin stretching across his lips, his cheeks tinted pink as he gazes at you.

It’s wrong and you’ll hate it, every part of you screaming to not be fooled by the boyish look he’s giving you; he’s a slayer, a grown man who very clearly doesn’t understand that you are not future spouses, that you are not in love.

You’ll hate yourself for it, but even as he leads you back to your home, guiding you and not letting your hand go the whole way (even though you you’re very familiar with the route and don’t need his navigational help), you’ll find yourself almost, almost wishing he’d kiss you again – just not in front of a stranger this time.

TAKING HIS DARLING AWAY:

Because he’s on the more delusional side, Kyojuro’s view of your relationship is warped.

He’s already eager in the context of romantic relationships, but in yours, specifically, he’s rushing through all the steps, too excited to get that gold ring on your finger and his last name replacing yours to really take his time with you.

And this becomes problematic particularly because you will have no idea, at least at first, that the Flame Hashira believes you’re courting one another, that it’s simply a matter of time before you’re keeping his bed warm and nursing his children.

And because of this quick timeline of your relationship, Kyojuro is actually quite quick to propose living together. Of course, it’s a bit taboo to be living under the same roof before you’re wed, but he’s willing to bend the traditional rules a bit if you put up any sort of opposition.

If you decline his blatant requests to live with him, he won’t relent. Initially, he’ll bluntly ask you in the middle of a shared meal if you’d like to move your belongings into the Rengoku mansion - I can have a few servants come to assist in the moving process, if you’d like, and of course I’ll be there to help carry anything heavy!

When you stare at him like he’s grown two heads, he’ll be a little confused, and curiously asks you why you seem to be shocked.

When you honestly respond, at a loss as to why he’s asking you to live with him when you’re very, very firmly just friends, Kyojuro will only laugh in response, his hand coming down to slap his knee because oh, you’re so funny, you sweet, coy little thing.

He’ll drop the subject that day, moving on to ask you about your thoughts about the weather or your favorite color or anything at all, greedy to hear your voice and bask in your attention.

But the next day, when he suddenly pops out of nowhere and accompanies you on your walk into town to buy a few necessities, the question is prompted once more.

I only have two separate futons, but I’m sure we could push them together! Similarly, I only have two blankets, but I’m sure my body heat will keep you warm!

You’ll be confused, giving yourself just a hair more distance between your bodies (he’d gotten very close without you noticing), throwing him a glance and worryingly asking what are you talking about?

He’s so nonchalant when he answers our sleeping arrangements, of course that it makes you wonder if you’ve missed something, if you’re somehow not in the loop because when the fuck did you agree to sleep in the same room as him, much less in such a position where you could feel his body heat?

You’ll negate his questions and try to change the topic once more, but Kyojuro is relentless - everyday there will be a new question of when you’ll inevitably be living together, and with every day he gets more and more restless to finally have you in his arms as he sleeps, to come home to you after long missions, to relish in the sight of you peacefully reading or crafting in the morning sun, wearing his clothing and smelling like him.

He’s a patient man, yes, but even Kyojuro has his limits - and he finally reaches this limit when one day he can’t seem to find you anywhere.

It’s like you’ve disappeared off the face of the Earth - he’d wanted to spend some time with you (really, he’d just finished his allotted training for the day and had been idly daydreaming about holding your hand the whole time, and was now in desperate need of finding you to intertwine your fingers with his), but your home was empty and none of your neighbors seemed to remember seeing you leave.

Immediately worry is eating away at him, because his sole job as your future lover and husband is to keep tabs on you and protect you, and he’d been too busy focusing on himself and getting stronger to fulfill his duty.

He searches for you in all the common spots he knows you visit, and with each empty location his desperation gets a bit more extreme, his panic slowly engulfing him because where the fuck could you be?

Eventually he’s sprinting around the general area you reside in, running mile after mile as his smile slips away and his entire body grows sweaty, his heart racing and even a few tears threatening to well in his eyes because he can’t stomach the thought that you’ve been hurt somehow, that someone has stolen you, that you’re simply gone.

It’s not until the evening that he eventually stumbles upon you, your pretty kimono stained with a bit of dirt as the bottom hem and your shoulders a bit slumped from the heavy bag slung over them, your limbs aching from the long journey it’d taken to visit a friend a few villages over.

He happens to run by you along the path, and immediately he’s stopping and staring, his chest visibly heaving, his eyes wide and vulnerable as he blinks, pinching himself to make sure this is real, that you’re really standing in front of him, that you haven’t been devoured like he’d been imagining.

But all too soon he’s rushing forward, the wind knocked out of your lungs as he tackles you to the ground, clutching you against his chest as he bombards you with questions, slurred and rushed as he asks if you’re okay, are you hurt? Where were you? Why didn’t you tell me you’d be gone today? Did you speak to anyone? Did anyone touch you? Were you scared without me?

He’s speaking so quickly and loudly into your ear that you can’t even get a response in, his voice slightly uneven and betraying the influx of emotion swimming through his chest. He’ll pull back to gaze at you, thumbs brushing over your cheek, before smiling softly and pressing a soft, long kiss to your forehead, whispering to you that you’ll be safe now, my love, forever.

Then it all goes black, and you wake up dressed in a much too nice kimono, sleeping in an ornate room in a futon you don’t recognize, familiar eyes trained on your form as his seated figure watches you slowly wake up beside him. 

As a captor, Kyojuro is mostly just suffocating.

Because he still heavily believes in the delusions he’s been nursing since the beginning of his infatuation with you, he doesn’t see anything wrong with what he’s done. He doesn’t see his relocation of you as kidnapping, nor does he understand why you seem so unhappy to be with him.

It was inevitable that you’d be sharing the same home and bed, didn’t you know?

Why do you seem so surprised when he wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you flush against his body, spooning you and sighing your name into your ear with just a bit too much reverence?

Why are you flinching away from him when he pulls you close for a kiss, his calloused fingers gently grasping your chin as he whispers between wet, loud kisses that he loves you, that he’s more in love with you than you could possibly imagine, my flame, you are my light in eternal darkness.

He’s sappy and too much and always hovering around you, his presence smothering you in every sense of the word. He’s clingy and needy, always wanting to be watching you and simply observe you, because even though he now spends nearly every hour of every day he has off in your presence, everything you do is still special to him, interesting and wonderful and important, and he has no sense of boundaries.

He will be standing close to you, practically breathing down your neck. He will ask you all sorts of personal questions, ranging from things like your greatest fears and most embarrassing moments to your menstrual cycle and which spots feel best when you’re touching yourself to the thought of him.

(He assumes you must pleasure yourself while thinking of him, because he does, too, religiously, every night, your pretty face and voice and body at the forefront of his thoughts as he paints his fist white over and over and over.)

He doesn’t see any reason why there should be any sort of barriers between the two of you, because you’re soulmates - made for one another, destined to spend your lives together, your fates irrefutably intertwined and brought together by the unyielding, passionate love you possess for one another.

And, unfortunately, this lack of barriers manifests itself in some pretty undesirable ways - you’ll be sharing one singular toothbrush, for example, Kyojuro insisting that it’s romantic and sweet and becoming of a young couple to share everything with one another, even their saliva.

He’s having the two of you share undergarments; they’re all made of soft, smooth cloth, in a variety of neutral colors that he’ll wear for the day, then shuffle up your legs the next day, smiling and licking his lips because the fabric that spent all day pressed up against him is now pressed up against you.

(And, on days where you’re particularly unlucky, sometimes Kyojuro lets his thoughts run a bit wild once he’s wearing them, his eyes fluttering closed as he imagines you and subtly ruts against his palm as he waits for nightfall in the small village his next mission is in, the time passing slowly until he’s gasping your name and staining the undergarment with wet warmth, already giddy and excited to have you wear them tomorrow, unwashed.)

He’ll even sometimes share food - and not in a sweet, romantic way, but rather in a raw, connected way; he’ll take a bit of food and chew it, then press his lips against yours and push it into your mouth, encouraging you to chew as well, before eventually kissing you once more and swallowing it all himself, his grin nearly blinding because now he’s eaten both the meal and you, or at least a bit of your spit.

He’s just weird, and while he’s constantly showering you in compliments and spoiling you with anything and everything under the sun, it’ll be hard to adjust to this new, strange lifestyle simply because he doesn’t really allow you time to adjust.

He’s expecting everything to be sunshine and roses from the moment you wake up as a freshly kidnapped darling, his expectations high that you’ll be pliant and willing and happy to learn that you’re finally, finally together.

And while it takes a lot of disobedience from you to snap him out of his rose colored view of you, Kyojuro is doing everything in his power to make sure that your relationship is perfect, that he’s taking good care of you and loving you as he should.

Which leads to another important aspect of being his darling - he doesn’t see women is inferior in any way (Shinobu and Mitsuri alone have dispelled that image), but he likes the idea of you being his housewife, fulfilling traditionally feminine duties.

He likes the idea of you taking care of the home, making sure dinner is cooked and served for him in the evening (he’ll often send a crow your way when he’s heading home after missions, just so that you can prepare for his arrival - normally, this means a meal and very little clothing adorning your frame, so that he can feast on your delicious food and then your delicious body), and attending to his every need as he does you.

He likes the idea of you keeping the mansion clean and eagerly awaiting his return home when he’s away, your devotion to him keeping you motivated to make sure everything is perfectly in order for him.

He’s trying for children very, very early on, his thrusts slow, deep and meaningful as he kisses you and promises that this will finally be the load that takes, because the mere idea of you swollen with his child and needing his help to do things even as simple as sitting down makes him giddy and unbearably excited.

And he doesn’t want just one child - oh no, he wants many, as many as you’re willing to give him.

He wants the perfect family with you, and as your captor, he won’t try to hide this wish. You will be made aware that he wants you to dote on him, that he wants you to spread your legs and conceive his child, that he wants you you you.

(He’s discussing potential names with you within the first week of having kidnapped you, his fingers idly tracing over your stomach as he tells you that the first born must be named Shinjuro, then perhaps we’ll have a daughter, and she can be named Hana! But we must also have some named Takeru, Ucharo, Nakagome, Watabe, and of course Shigeru! And after that, if you have any names in mind, we can surely name the following children them!)

 Kyojuro isn’t necessarily bad, per se, as he does genuinely spoil you and give you all the time and attention and physical affection he can, but you’ll feel weighed down, crushed, drowning in the way he always seems to take and take from you.

But eventually, you will grow dependent on him - how can you not? He’s still so sweet with all the compliments he gives you (a little deranged, perhaps, but the sentiment is there), the reverence in his eyes when he gazes at you, the gentleness and eagerness in his touch when he has his hands on you.

He’s complicated, yes, but life with him will be so very simple - just bend to his whims, and perhaps you’ll even enjoy the way he hugs you so tightly it nearly hurts, or how he limits the number of servants who are allowed to speak with you - he just loves you, and is it so wrong to enjoy being loved?

PUNISHMENTS:

As his darling, you’re somewhat lucky that Kyojuro is as delusional as he is, if only because it keeps him mostly blind to any misbehavior and attitude you can throw at him.

Of course, he has his limits, but in general he’s able to write off any snarky comments of yours or slight attempts to put distance between the two of you as you simply you trying to be funny, barking out a laugh and moving even closer to you, pressing into your space even more, making sure there’s not an inch of space between your bodies.

Or, sometimes, he interprets your very blatant rebellions against him as you simply trying to test his resolve – he thinks you’re trying to force him into showing just how deeply he loves you, as if you’re testing just how strong his feelings for you are.

And while he finds this just the slightest bit offensive (you’re doubting his love for you – his passion for you; can you not tell that his heart beats only for you? Can you not see that alongside his duty to the Corp, you’re the reason he breaths, the reason he wakes up in the morning, the reason he’s alive?), it mostly serves as motivation for him to love you harder, to become more expressive with his feelings.

It pushes him to hug you tighter, his fingers nearly leaving bruises with the strength of his grip around you, the hugs going much longer and getting more intimate, if the brush of something big and hard against your thigh is any indication.

It pushes him to compliment you more, the words falling from his lips with such conviction that it’ll almost make you flustered, if the content wasn’t so unnerving.

(There’s lots of you are so beautiful, my flame, but there’s also a lot of you look so peaceful in your sleep, it makes me want to lock you away forever and keep you mine and deep inhales followed by your scent sets me on fire, my love, you don’t know what you do to me.)

He views most of your rebellions as simply you trying to catch his attention, perhaps being a sign that you feel you’re being neglected by all the missions he must leave you and attend to.

And frankly, Kyojuro doesn’t blame you – he wishes he could give you more attention too, because although he feels his job is wildly fulfilling and the morally correct thing to do, a more selfish part of his heart yearns to spend his days with you in his hands instead of his sword, your body curled up against his while he keeps you warm and tells you how deeply he loves you.

And because of all the different avenues he employs to simply disregard any negative behavior from you, punishments with Kyojuro are extremely rare. It takes quite a bit to push him into reality for even a brief moment, to force him to come face to face with the fact that you aren’t happy and that you don’t love him.

He only has a few triggers that can be powerful enough to force him into this mindset – you harming yourself, and you attempting to escape.

When you injure yourself, it’s difficult to rationalize why you would have done that, but he’s normally able to scold you (with condescending words and tone, that same smile stretched across his lips), telling you to be more careful and let me prepare your bath next time, all burns from hot water must be avoided in the future! But you trying to escape is not so easy to twist into a pleasing fantasy of his.

It’s much harder to understand why you’re ceaselessly trying to break open the windows of the estate, to the point where your knuckles bleed and your elbows bruise. It’s harder to understand why you try to work at the lock keeping the main doors sealed, your poor fingernails splitting and aching from all the tugging and pulling.

He’s not sure why you’re going through so much trouble – surely there must be easier ways to get his attention. Surely there must be less painful and pitiful methods to get him fawning over you and proving his dedication to you – so why aren’t you taking them? Why are you choosing this difficult path, one that makes him apprehensive to leave you alone for more than thirty seconds?

(Not that that’s the only reason he’s hesitant to leave you alone – his clinginess and desire for your physical touch is the bulk majority – but it’s still a major player.)

And when he asks you, with his arms wrapped around your abdomen, your own arms flailing and your legs kicking at anything you can reach, your answer will have him pausing for a moment, an unwelcome feeling of reality washing back over him.

Because I hate being here, I want to go home! Please, let me go home!

His spine goes straight at that, his eyes widening ever so slightly, your punches and kicks to his shoulders and thighs doing nothing to faze him. You want… to go home? But aren’t you already home, by his side?

His grip tightens on you, a sort of displeased hum ringing in your ears. He’s carrying you away from the front doors and down the convoluted hallways of the estate, his grip on you never weakening.

Your words repeat over and over in his head, each replay confusing him more and more. You aren’t happy being here? With him? He bites his lip, bright eyes glancing down at you in his arms, with big tears slipping down your cheeks and your shoulders shaking with poorly concealed sobs.

This doesn’t seem like an attempt at gaining his attention – why would you go through such lengths? In all his time of falling in love with you, he’s never known you to be such a good actor.

Your tears look real, as does the sound of your voice when you whisper his name and weakly pound your fist against his chest, begging him to let me go home, I can’t be here any longer, I can’t stand it!

He sets you down onto the bed of the bedroom he’s brought you into – the bedroom where he forces you to sleep beside him, your nightclothes sticking to your skin with the heat that radiates from his body and the sheer proximity his forced cuddling creates.

He’ll watch as you scramble away from him, curling your knees to your chest and looking up at him with such raw, pained eyes, and for a moment it makes Kyojuro’s heart clench, genuine regret rushing through him.

Has he made you this upset? Is he the reason for your anguish? It makes something heavy and uncomfortable settle into his chest, and it’s that driving force that pushes him to come closer to you, matching your every scoot away from him with a step towards you.

Eventually your back hits the wall and he kneels before you, his face mere inches from your own.

Tell me, my flame, why are you so displeased?

 His question makes you gulp, but before you can stop yourself your mouth is already moving, every repressed thought and emotion you’ve felt the last few weeks you’ve been stuck with him finally coming to light.

Because you’re a monster! You’ve kidnapped me and forced me into being your wife, and you have the audacity to ask me why I’m upset? I can’t stay with you, Kyojuro, not here, not anywhere! We aren’t in love – you’re mistaken, I don’t love you and whatever this is, it’s not love, so don’t tell me you love me! Please, just let me return to my home and family, I beg of you.

You cut yourself off with a small sob, and as your eyes flutter closed for a brief moment, your blood runs cold when they reopen.

You’ve never seen Kyojuro look like this – gone is that familiar grin of his, instead replaced with a harsh, straight, tight lipped expression. His eyes no longer hold any of the warmth and adoration he normally gazes at you with – rather, they seem unbearably cold, the heavy weight of his stare making you shrink in on yourself despite your rather brave speech. And something about his presence feels much larger than you’ve ever experienced it – it’s in this moment that you realize just how defined and huge the muscles he’s sporting across his upper and lower body are, the man before you holding more strength in his pinky finger than you in all of your body.

It’s crushing, the sick, horrible feeling that something is terribly wrong making your every hair stand on end, your breath ragged as you wait for his next move. Kyojuro nods slowly, his expression not changing.

I see.

You bite your lip, anxiety making a pit form in your stomach.

You need to be reminded of what’s important, my flame. You’ve become misguided – but don’t fret, I will help guide you back to the path. This will hurt, but with time you’ll understand my actions and perhaps even thank me for them.

His words have red flags raising immediately in your mind, but before you can really even process your own questions, his hand is shooting out grasping on of yours, fingers pressing against the pad of your index finger and pushing pushing pushing –

There’s a sickening crunch noise that fills your ears, and everything feels numb for a moment before white-hot, acute agony rushes through you, your finger already swelling and throbbing from the broken bone now within it.

Kyojuro watches as you sob harder, your eyes red and puffy as you look at him, your gaze weak and, quite frankly, pitiful. He only takes a deep breath, his Adam’s apple bobbing, before moving to the next finger, a matching crunch sound only making you cry harder.

Eventually, each finger on your left hand is broken, his hands already moving to start on your right. He’s quick about each break, not letting the pain linger any longer than absolutely necessary, but it doesn’t matter.

By the time he finishes with your right thumb, you’re nearly numb from the pain, your tears having run dry as you shake and jerk with every hiccup and sob that wracks your frame. The sight hurts Kyojuro, truly – and he’ll tell you as much.

Shh, oh my flame, don’t cry – I know it hurts terribly, but so does my heart. Do you see now? Do you see that I love you? I’m showing you that our love is real and pure – I will nurse you back to your proper health. I will be your hands when you cannot touch, and I will stay at your bedside every free moment to keep you company and ensure a quick recovery. Do you understand now? This is your home – no one can care for you in the way that I can.

His voice is soft, with a certain condescending lilt to it that only makes you dumbly nod, the pain still rendering you numb to your surroundings. And as Kyojuro carefully picks you up once more, moving you to your shared futon and gently tucking you under the covers, he’ll quickly gather some small sticks and medical gauze, wrapping each finger and cooing at you all the while.

And as he places a kiss onto each finger tip once its wrappings are complete, you’ll find yourself considering his words.

The conviction to individually break each finger of your lover is certainly no joke – perhaps he could be correct? Is this love?

Is the way he'll carefully feed you your meals as your wounds heal a sign of his truly undying feelings for you?

Is the way he bathes you (with wandering hands and stuttered breaths) a sign that he does truly care for you?

Is the way he helps you use the restroom without the use of your own hands a sign that he’ll truly stand by your side through darkness and light?

Your brain screams no, every ounce of your independence fighting the stream of questions, but some part of you finds comfort in the notion, in believing Kyojuro when he says that he loves you.

And as the days pass and your injuries slowly heal, your captor’s constant presence by your side helping to keep you clean, healthy and well fed, you’ll find that part of you growing louder and louder, drowning out your mind.

Because really, does it even matter? Kyojuro Rengoku is a man of dedication and unwavering devotion – and if he wants you to love him, isn’t it only a matter of time before he succeeds?

After all, who are you to stand your ground in the face of someone like him?

OVERALL DANGER:

 6/10

Kyojuro isn’t necessarily dangerous, or at least in the sense of being a threat to your life. He’s clingy and needy and out of touch with reality, of course, but he doesn’t enjoy the notion of hurting you. He’s willing to, if it’s his only choice, but you’ll never need to worry that any hidden sadistic tendencies of his will emerge. He’ll never suddenly develop the desire to see you cry, nor will he suddenly discard you should his feelings dissipate.

Once his infatuation begins, Kyojuro is committed to making sure that you stay healthy, happy, and – most importantly – by his side.

He’s convinced that he’s the one that can make you happy, that he can give you the most perfect, loving future, filled with laughter, kisses, stolen touches and even a few children with bright yellow and red hair running around the estate.

He’s convinced that he can make you happy, that he already does make you happy, and it will be extremely difficult to snap him out of this fantasy he’s created for the two of you.

He’s an influential man with extreme importance, and you’d be extremely hard pressed to find anyone who would even believe you if you were to somehow escape him, if you were to somehow catch on to his nefarious intentions before he’s stolen you away.

It’s the combination of being surrounded by death, and a yearning to be happy and build a loving family that pushes him to pursue you, developing a future with you feeling so fucking important that he simply can’t resist the drive to court you, to wed you, to see your gorgeous smile and the pretty golden ring with flames engraved on it around your finger.

He’s simply a man in love, and if that love means his hands on your body, pulling you closer and closer and closer until you can hardly breath, so be it.

It’s only natural for something as powerful as love to create such a strong devotion, and isn’t it oddly romantic, in a way? To know that someone as powerful, important and revered as Kyojuro is in love with little old you?

Doesn’t it make you feel good to know you have the Flame Pillar wrapped around your finger, that he’d get on his knees for you at just the merest flutter of your lashes?

He’s truly in love, so embrace it with open arms – he sure is, and things will be much, much better for you the sooner you accept the love he’s so frantically delivering to you.

#yandere kny #yandere rengoku #_kny #_kyojuro rengoku #yandere kyojuro rengoku #yandere demon slayer

[bangtanflirt]

Not Like Other Girls (Part 1 of 2)

mainly angst, with some smut and fluff sprinkled in

Best friend Jungkook x Fem Reader, Hoseok x Fem Reader

NSFW. 18+

Part 1 > Part 2 (FINAL)

Premise: Jungkook’s been your best friend since forever, and he loves that you’re “not like other girls,” as he puts it...so what happens when you decide you want to be like other girls?

Warnings: sexism, slut-shaming, manipulative friendship, Jungkook and some other idols are just overall misogynistic assholes in this (all a work of fiction obviously, no way meant to represent these idols’ real life personalities), internalized misogyny, slight smut but it’s mainly just making out, talks of sexual activity

____

Jungkook first entered your life in third grade, when you were nine and he was “almost ten,” as he put it. He slipped into the role of your best friend pretty seamlessly, sharing his crayons and snacks with no one else but you. When middle school came around, Jungkook found his first love: the PlayStation his parents gave him for his thirteenth birthday. Soon, your days of playing pretend turned into gaming sessions instead. Once he showed you how to play, you caught on pretty quickly. He’s always been a better gamer than you, but you weren’t an easy opponent either, getting your wins in when his guard was down. You would revel in the pout he had every time you would beat him, his competitive nature unable to accept the loss. He only got more competitive as you entered high school and began to seek out others who were more on his level, which you didn’t exactly mind since you’ve never been into gaming as much as he is. Sure, you liked it as a pass-time, but you’ve never taken it as seriously as your best friend does.

Which is why you were happy when Jungkook met Yugyeom and Eunwoo freshman year of high school. Throughout the four years of high school, the four of you were more-or-less a friend group. “More-or-less” because you weren’t exactly friends with the other two, more acquaintances, but Jungkook linked you to them. Your best friend would still invite you every time he hung out with them, so the four of you were together a lot. However, just because you were physically present doesn’t mean you were part of the conversation. The three men would get lost in their own talks, seldom including you. The only reason it didn’t bother you much was because Jungkook still made sure to set aside time for just the two of you, where you could talk all you want and he would listen intently to your ramblings. These conversations would mainly be over study-sessions, since only you and Jungkook actually studied among the four—both aiming to graduate at the top of your class.

Senior year of high school is when the cracks of your friendship first started to show. It was after a late-night gaming session at Yugyeom’s place (where you did your homework since they said you weren’t needed on the team). Yugyeom’s parents were out of town and he was intent on having all of you raid the liquor cabinet. After the tequila bottle was passed around a couple of times, a good buzz was flowing through everyone. That’s when the topic of girls came up. It’s not like the men have never talked about a girl in front of you before, but it’s always been innocent confessions of who they thought was pretty. That night, however, the conversation turned sour at the mention of the new transfer student—the one that Jungkook had apparently lost his virginity to.

“I don’t see the hype about Nayeon. You can’t even tell if she’s actually pretty or if it’s the layers of makeup at this point.” Eunwoo punctuates with another swig of the bottle.

“I definitely see the hype about Nayeon,” Yugyeom interjects, “I mean…” he finishes his thought with gestures to his chest, causing all the boys to burst into tipsy laughter. You laugh too, wanting to be in on the joke.

“That I agree with, but it’s also not fun if she’s always wearing clothes that show them off y’know? Who knows how many guys have already seen the whole thing at this point, with her reputation. No offense, Kook.”

“That’s valid. I wouldn’t date her, that’s for sure.” Jungkook chimes in.

“Is it really that big of a deal? She just has her own style, like Jungkook always wears all black and those combat boots. I don’t see why it’s a bad thing.”

Eunwoo throws a condescending laugh your way, “It’s because her ‘style’ is literally dressing like a slut, y/n. Guys who want actual meaningful relationships are not going to go for a girl who dresses like that. That’s the kind of girl you hit and quit.”

Jungkook can see Eunwoo’s explanation isn’t sitting well with you, so he attempts to soothe your worries, “Don’t worry about it y/n. You’re not like other girls, so you don’t have to worry about things like that.”

“Not like other girls?”

“Yeah, you’re more like one of the guys. That’s why we’re best friends.” He grins his innocent bunny grin, and at the time that’s enough to appease you. It must be a good thing to not be like other girls, you thought, since it got you such a good best friend.

However, you are currently in college and those initial cracks are threatening to crumble down the entire foundation of your friendship. Yugyeom and Eunwoo got into different colleges from you two, so it’s back to just you and Jungkook; however, it’s not the same as before. Jungkook is still the same, spending his days at the library studying and nights in his dorm gaming. You, however, aren’t the same. The summer before this year has been the first summer you and him had spent apart since you became friends, with you going to see your cousins in another state. Growing up, you’d never met your cousins due to your mom’s rocky relationship with your aunt. However, the two of them making up gave you the opportunity to finally meet that side of the family.

The first couple of days were not fun, with you missing Jungkook and also realizing your cousins, Eun-bi and Sol, were the exact type of girls him, Yugyeom, and Eunwoo would look down upon. Their crop tops, short skirts, and dramatic makeup severely put you off at first…but at some point during the trip, you just couldn’t resist. They looked like they were having so much fun, and you wanted to have fun too. So you asked if you could tag along their shopping plans, which they agreed to instantly. That was the first time you saw yourself in a dress (not counting the hideous dresses your mom put you in when you were five), and you’ve never felt prettier. You loved the way it showed off your legs and the little bit of cleavage made you feel damn hot. But there was still a nagging voice in the back of your head, knowing the fit was too revealing for Jungkook’s approval. Still, it was pretty and your cousins wouldn’t let you leave before buying it, so you did. The trip was also the first time you’d ever put anything more than sunscreen and moisturizer on your face, copying your Sol’s actions as she taught you how to do makeup.

That starts the beginning of your makeup obsession. Eyeshadow, in particular, becomes like a drug to you. You can’t imagine a time you’ve enjoyed yourself more than when you were doing your eye makeup with Eun-bi and Sol, all while the three of you quoted the romcoms playing in the background.

So, suffice to say, college y/n is not the y/n you were in high school. Although you’re still not confident to wear a dress or do your makeup outside of your bedroom (especially not in front of Jungkook), you’re becoming more expressive about the things you like.

“What are you watching?” Jungkook looks over your shoulder, taking a break from his studying.

“A makeup influencer I’ve gotten into lately. She’s really talented.” You try to sound nonchalant but it’s nerve-wracking to even say that much to him, scared of being labelled in the same category as the girls he’s talked shit about with the other guys.

He raises a brow and your heart falls to your stomach.

“Since when are you into stuff like that?”

You shrug, still trying to seem casual. “It takes more skill than people think. It’s like creating a piece of art on your face.” You hate that you don’t just say ‘it’s fun,’ rather framing it in a way you think he might validate. His face is etched with judgement, but he doesn’t say the exact words he wants to out loud, choosing a different angle to take instead.

“So you’re watching that instead of studying?”

“I already finished my assignments and readings.”

“Just be careful y/n, things like that can easily distract you from your grades.”

“Don’t be overdramatic,” you chuckle, “if anything, video games would be a bigger distraction.”

He doesn’t laugh along, instead giving you a tight-lipped expression and returning to his essay.

Things go on like that for a couple of  months, with Jungkook never outright disapproving, but looking at you warily every time you express interest in make-up. Still, you’re determined to make him come around. That’s why you buy two tickets for a beauty influencer convention that happens to land on the Saturday of your birthday. You hold the tickets in front of him with big, eager eyes.

“This is really what you want to do for your birthday?”

“Yep. You don’t even have to get me a gift, just come with me!”

He sighs reluctantly, “Okay, if that’s all you really want.”

You bring him into a tight hug, unable to contain your excitement.

By the time Saturday comes around, you’re practically bouncing off the walls in excitement. Not only are some of your favorite makeup artists going to be there, but you’ll finally be able to talk about your favorite hobby with your best friend. The euphoric feeling is enough to push you into doing something you previously thought impossible: deciding to wear a dress and do your makeup to wear out. It’s the same dress Eun-bi picked out for you, aka your only dress, and a sunset cut-crease look from a palette Sol let you have. You look in the mirror with a newfound confidence, elated that Jungkook is making an effort to accept this new you.

Unfortunately, all your excitement washes away the second you open the door to Jungkook’s dorm and see Yugyeom and Eunwoo. “Happy Birthday!” The three men cheer in unision, with Jungkook holding a cake. The dorm is filled with balloons and decorations, and the gesture would be sweet if you didn’t know what it was about to lead into. After the initial cheers, the men take a moment to take in your new appearance. Jungkook’s eyes go wide and the other two start whistling and hollering.

“No one told me the theme for the party was Playboy” Eunwoo laughs.

“Damn y/n, I forgot you had tits!” Yugyeom adds.

Jungkook intervenes, still processing the situation himself, “No teasing the birthday girl! Y/n wait here while I get you one of my sweaters, it won’t be comfortable to game in that.”

“Game? Aren’t we going to the convention?” Your eyes threaten to water but you do your best to hold composure.

“We can go some other time. Besides, you only have two tickets, right?”

“It’s only for tonight, I don’t know when the next one will be…I can see there’s last minute tickets on the site…” you hate how meek your voice is.

Jungkook shakes his head dismissively, “It’s okay y/n, Yugyeom and Eunwoo are only here until tomorrow so we should get our gaming session in before they leave—since it’s something we all enjoy!”

“Convention?” Eunwoo questions.

“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it” Jungkook laughs off, setting the cake down and ushering everyone to the couch. But you don’t follow. He planned this, you realize.

“You guys go ahead, I think I’m going to go to the convention alone.” You don’t give anyone a chance to react as you spin on your heel and practically run out. Jungkook follows your trail, turning you to face him once you’ve stopped outside the residence hall.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“I just really want to go to this convention.” You’re voice is shaky, the kind of tone you get when you’re trying not to burst into tears.

“Don’t you think you’re being a little much? They moved around their schedules to come see us, and I spent the whole day blowing up all these balloons and decorating the place. I even got your favorite cake!”

“I appreciate it Jungkook, I really do, but you knew how excited I was to go to this convention. It’s all I talked about since you said yes.”

“I just don’t think you’re going to have as much fun as you think you will there.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“C’mon y/n, this isn’t you! You’re not someone who wears skimpy dresses or smears all that shit on their eyes! I just don’t get why you want to be one of those girls all of a sudden.”

There it was, the words he’d been holding back, finally out in the open. You are now one of those girls to him. Girls he doesn’t deem worthy of respect. Something stronger than sadness bubbles inside of you: rage.

“Go to hell, Jungkook.”

You see his eyes go wide, “Excuse me?”

“I said go. to. hell. I’m going to go celebrate my birthday the way I want to, alone.”

You walk away, leaving the man with an incredulous expression.

The uber ride is tense, with you trying your best to hold back the tears. It sounds ridiculous, but you’re too proud of your eyeshadow to ruin it like this, so you put sadness on the backburner and let rage take center stage. You’re livid and you’re not going to give in this time. You’re going to go to this damn convention and have the best birthday ever, without him.

___

The venue is brightly lit, with lines of people waiting for different booths. Your mood brightens up at the sight of your favorite makeup gurus meeting and greeting fans, quickly finding a place in line. The convention is everything you want: live makeup tutorials, goodie bags with samples you’re eager to try, and getting your picture taken with people you admire. Despite the shaky mindset you entered with, you’re genuinely having a good time by yourself. One of the influencers even agrees to record a video saying hi to your cousins, which you know Eun-bi and Sol will love.

It’s an hour in when you meet Ara, a girl waiting to get food in the same line you’re in. She’s insanely pretty, the kind of girl you’d be too intimidated to talk to if she hadn’t initiated the conversation with a “I absolutely adore your eyeshadow!!”

It’s a simple compliment, but it means so much in that moment. You think that’s where the conversation will end but, to your surprise, she keeps talking, asking you about what booths you’ve been to and your favorite things so far. Before you know it, the two of you are gushing about your favorite influencers and makeup looks. You stick to Ara for the rest of the time, admiring how she effortlessly commands a room. Her flowy white skirt and light pink bralette make her look like a fairy from a garden party, not to mention the glowing skin and shimmery eyeshadow. She looks so pretty that you can’t believe she’s also nice—but, fortunately for you, she is.

It’s when you mention that you’re here for your birthday that she pipes up with even more enthusiasm.

“Omg, it’s your birthday?! I’m hitting up a frat party with friends after this, you should totally come!”

Part of you winces at the use of ‘omg’ and ‘totally,’ thinking back to how the guys would say that was bimbo-talk. But you push those prejudices down, focusing instead on the very nice girl in front of you.

“Are you sure that’s okay? I wouldn’t want to intru—”

“We’d be glad to have you! If you vibe with me, you’ll vibe with my friends in no time.”

So you nod, happy you decided to come out tonight. At the very least, you have a new friend. A female friend who happens to go to the same college, nonetheless.

___

Ara leads you into the frat house, holding your hand so you don’t get lost in the crowd of bodies. You tell her how this is you’re first time ever going partying, and she assures you of how fun it is if you’re with the right people. The two of you stop at a decently sized circle of people at the corner of the main room, Ara swings her hand around your shoulder and introduces you to the bunch.

It’s a mix of guys and girls, all who look like they came straight from a modeling gig. She tells you their names one by one, saying the name ‘Namjoon’ extra sweetly. “That one’s my boyfriend” she winks, and the dimpled man waves at you. “The one next to him is Hoseok. He’s Namjoon’s best friend. Hoseok’s actually a member of Beta Tau Sigma.”

“Ah, nice party” you say awkwardly, caught a little off-guard with the way he’s looking at you. It’s not a look you’re used to getting…one of lust.

“I think it just got a little better” he remarks with a confident smirk.

You don’t miss the looks he throws your way the entire night, as if to send signals. You know he’s flirting, but you also don’t know how to flirt back. That changes after alcohol enters your system. It’s only two shots, just enough for a happy buzz, but it increases your confidence dramatically. You don’t know when you make the initiative to dance with the handsome man, but pretty soon his hips are grinding expertly against your ass. The rest of the group cheers on, waving their drinks in the air in support.

Normally, you’d avoid a man like Hoseok. He seems like the kind of guy Jungkook would tell you to stay away from: the fuckboy who’s only after your body, and will break your heart after he gets what he wants. But right now, you don’t care. Jungkook’s already broken your heart, so there’s not much Hoseok could do to hurt you. Not to mention how nice it feels to be desired, for a change. If the boys could see you right now, you’re sure they’d think of every synonym of ‘slut’ in their head, but his hands feel too good on your waist for you to care.

“Wanna chill in my room for a bit?” His breath tickles your ear, voice deep and breathy.

You nod, interlocking your hand with his as he leads you up the stairs. Ara slaps your ass as you pass by, yelling “Go tap that, y/n!” over the blaring music.

His lips are on yours the moment you enter his room, diving in like you’re the most delicious thing in the world. It’s not long before you’re on the bed together, his body pressed to your side as his lips latch onto your neck. You let out a moan when his teeth graze a sensitive spot below your ear, making him attack the area even more fervently. You feel a hand on your chest, groping you over the dress.

It’s too much. You’re not comfortable. But you also don’t know how to say you’re not comfortable without ruining the mood. It’s a warzone in your head when his hand starts going up your thigh.

Maybe I should just go along with it.

I’m overreacting.

It’s just sex.

People do it all the time.

Don’t ruin the mood.

Hoseok notices the lack of moans, pulling away to look at your face, which looks too lost in thought for his liking. “Hey, are you good? Do you wanna keep going?”

You nod but he’s not convinced.

“You don’t seem sure.”

“I’m sure” you lie.

“That was the most unconvincing ‘I’m sure’ I’ve ever heard.”

Your face grows red, embarrassed that he could see right through your façade of confidence.

“Sorry” you mumble, eyes looking down to avoid his.

“Don’t be, it’s cool. I just don’t wanna do anything if you’re not fully into it.”

His words throw you off. This isn’t what Jungkook told you guys like him are like.

“C-can we still make-out? Or it’s totally cool if you want to find someone else! No worries!”

He chuckles in amusement before diving back in to meet your lips, this time keeping the whole vibe more PG-13—aka less groping and more intertwining his fingers in your hair. Surprisingly, Hoseok stays like that with you for the remaining duration of the party. You were sure he’d get bored of it soon, as it’s far tamer than what he’s used to, but he doesn’t. Even more of a surprise is what you two do when you’re not locking lips…talk. Just talk, about everything and anything.

“There’s no way you’ve taken a nap in every building on campus!”

“It’s true! Ask Namjoon! I text him post-napping selcas after every one,” he says with pride, making you burst out into laughter.

The rest of the night is filled with the same banter in between kisses, until you tell him you should probably go back to your place.

“Do you need a ride home? I only had one shot since I was hosting, and that was hours ago. I’m good to drive if you need.”

“Um yeah, actually, that’d be great.”

When the car stops in front of your residence hall is when you ask the question you’ve been debating on whether or not to ask the entire ride.

“Is it lame if I ask what tonight makes us?”

He’s not giving you a judgmental look like you feared, smiling warmly instead.

“I was thinking we could be friends.”

“Friends who make out?”

“If you want that then yeah. Or just friends is cool too. I really like talking to you y/n.”

“I really like talking to you too, Hoseok…and making out with you too.”

“Well then it’s decided” he winks.

___

Monday comes around and you’re heading to the library when you run into two of the girls Ara introduced you to: Jennie and Jisoo.

“Y/n! Come sit with us!” Jennie calls, motioning towards a spot next to her on the library’s lawn. You make your way to them, saying your hellos and how are yous.

“What are you working on?" Jennie questions, in between perfecting her lipstick.

“I’m writing a paper for my child development class.”

“Ooh interesting, so are you like an education major?”

You nod.

“That sounds fun. We’re both in neuroscience..aka we hate ourselves.” Jennie jokes, causing Jisoo to giggle. Your prejudices are once again put in check when they mention their majors.

The three of you get to working on your respective assignments. You get distracted, however, by your phone buzzing.

Kook: Where are you? We should talk.

You: I’m outside the library.

Kook: I’m omw.

 You feel a sense of relief wash over. He texted first. He wants to apologize, surely. So you jump up when you see him, excusing yourself from the girls to make your way over.

What you expect is a string of apologies and him coming to his senses, what you get, however, is a different story.

“What the fuck y/n.”

You look at him puzzled.

“I can’t believe you fucking ditched us to spread your legs for Jung Hoseok.”

“Jungkook what are yo—”

“Save it, everyone from that frat party saw you two going to his room together.”

“But that’s not wh—”

“Do you even know how stupid of a decision that was?! Losing your virginity to him, of all people? You know what people say about girls that sleep with Hoseok, don’t you? Were you that desperate for dick that you just threw yourself at the first guy willing?”

Tears start prickling your cheeks.

“Great, I can’t even call you out on your bullshit without you crying.”

“Wh-why are you being so mean?” You manage to squeak out.

“Are you stupid? It’s because I don’t want a best friend who sluts around, obviously. I can forgive you since this is the first time, and I know how manipulative guys like Hoseok can be, but only if you go back to being the y/n that I kno—”

“Or we can stop being friends” you interrupt, defeated.

He stills, body freezing at your words. “What?”

“I’m tired, Jungkook. I’m tired of all of this. Let’s just stop.”

“Y/n—”

“Bye Jungkook.”

You wipe your tears and go back to sit with Jennie and Jisoo, feigning ignorance when they ask what’s wrong.

____

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hope your day is going well <3 Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!

#jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts x reader #hopekook

[castielslostwings]

Please help me tell people about my book!

Hi! I'm publishing a book! It's HERE, just in time for Christmas!! It's GAY!! It's romantic!!! It's HOT! It has firefighters and background sapphic romance, and is exciting AF!!!

I'm very excited, too!

Both U.S. domestic and international friends can order shipped Paperbacks from me directly via my Ko-Fi shop (retailers take less of a cut): https://ko-fi.com/castielslostwings/shop Or you can order on amazon directly, this is the only way to get the KINDLE ebook option: https://www.amazon.com/dp/1945687126

Standard EPUB format is available to download directly from me for $1 cheaper than Amazon: https://ko-fi.com/s/2a82c64d56

And WILL be available at other retailers soon!

Here's the thing: I had a pretty solid platform on Twitter, but since Elon took over, a lot of my followers left, the algorithm crashed, and the whole thing might go under. I don't have the same reach on other platforms, so I need some help! Please share this post if you like GAY SHIT and BOOKS and helping indie content creators be successful!!! Please follow me or check out my ko-fi for updates! Thanks!!! Here's my pitch, hope you like it:

"Fire & Ice": The flaming hot queer romance novel where a foray into BDSM helps two best friends find themselves, each other, and what it really means to burn. Summary: "Firefighter Tripp Truett has somehow tumbled into a whole new kind of relationship with his quirky paramedic best friend, Lee, but mutual relief from their high-stress jobs quickly develops into something more. With all the missed signals and crossed wires, can these two ever figure out that they're so much closer to being on the same page than they think?"

**************************************** About the author (info dump ahoy!!!!) :

I'm Robin, sometimes known as Wings! I'm a 36-year-old, queer, autistic, disabled mom of 2 humans and 5 senior rescue dogs, former R.N. & paramedic. I'm a hardcore fangirl and a proud fanfic writer (and reader), and while I know some people will judge me for that, I am not ashamed! I started writing as a hobby after becoming physically disabled and unable to work as an RN. Fanfic gave me an audience and an outlet, gifted me purpose and hope again. Transformative fiction is FUN! It fosters creativity and passion, heals wounds, and makes people happy. If someone wants to discredit me for that, then perhaps they aren't the audience I'm seeking.

Ultimately, I know I'm taking a risk, but since people seem to enjoy my fics, this book is my attempt to try and make ends meet through original fiction! I know some people WILL discredit me. But I'm always about being myself and speaking on what I feel matters: Fanfic should be legitimized as a creative medium. I assure you, friends—the thousands of hours I've spent on my fanworks are as REAL as it gets. The intersection of disparaging fanfic + sexism/misogyny can't be overstated—women (esp queer women)'s unpaid work is often treated as a "hobby," not worthy of uplifting. I'm here to uplift! The risk is worth it—I would have nothing without fanfic & I'm proud. Younger creators shouldn't feel shame about writing/reading fanfic. We should ALL approach it as a legitimate medium. In fact, MOST new media these days is transformative "fanwork" of SOME kind, whether it's inspired by, based on, or outright rebooting existing worlds.

Plus, we queer folk simply deserve to see our stories in the mainstream media and to see the characters we fall in love, identify with, and root for to get their happily ever afters.

TL;DR: I'm keeping my name and history. Hopefully, I'll be successful in original fiction, but if not, I'll still be a fangirl. Please consider supporting me + other creators attempting to dip into original works. Follow or subscribe to my ko-fi for previews, updates, access to my discord community where I share exclusive content, and more: https://ko-fi.com/castielslostwings FIRE & ICE IS NOW AVAILABLE THROUGH MULTIPLE PLATFORMS! Ko-Fi subscribers will have the option to buy signed copies & merch bundles! The link to purchase will also be posted there first.

A MAJOR thank you to my friends, editors, and to everyone who in my server for supporting and encouraging me to put myself out there and try something new. Love you guys so much. <3 Thank you to @chaoticdean for the beautiful cover. Many more thank yous to come. P.S. If you are reading this and know anyone with a platform who might be interested in receiving a free copy in exchange for promo (only if they enjoy, ofc), please holler at me, I can use all the help I can get!

<3 Wings

#castielslostwings #my writing updates #original story #original work #bookblr #gay romance #queer stuff #queer books #queer romance #mlm love #wlw love #smut #contemporary romance #romance novels #debut novel #fiction #author #writing #publishing #queer fiction #lgbt books #lgbtq books #lgbtq fiction #indie authors #lgbtq romance #authors of tumblr #romance books #book tumblr

[comradekatara]

Hello! So this is not quite an ask but THANK YOU for doing god's work of injecting some actual nuance, defending bolin (among other things), critiquing the comics, and all the plot holes/things that just don't make sense which become glaringly obvious if one thinks about any aspect for more than two seconds (lol but you know this already duh) and am only annoyed I did not stumble upon this blog sooner, since I am so done with this show (but also I keeping at it like the scabs). Also, your art is delightful! If you still require an ask, do you perchance write fanfic? (it's possible you might have mentioned it but sometimes I can't read lol)

Have a good day!

hello, and thank you! also it’s funny that defending bolin is the first thing you list because I thought I made it pretty clear that I think his character is direly poorly-written and that I do not care for him. but… you’re welcome I guess? but yes obviously critiquing the comics and imbuing nuance and all of that I will definitely gladly take credit for. and thank you for liking my art! i do occasionally write fanfic, but i’ve only ever shown it to my friends and never actually posted it anywhere, so functionally, my answer would be no. i have debated posting it in the past, but idk, i don’t think that would be a good idea. maybe someday i’ll snap tho who knows.

as for your other ask…

Also because I clicked on the ask button before I had a brain fart (so if this would come off a bit deranged for posting an ask right after the first my apologies), I also want to mention the commentary that Iroh being 'everyone's favourite sexist' is gold because we just gloss over that and no one ever seems to mention that scene. Another thing about atla is that the reason given for Zuko's constant internal struggle and conflict is because he's descended from the previous avatar and the fire lord but hello, Azula?? Did Ursa have an affair now?? Isn't she just as worthy of redemption, or the fact she's just as abused anyhoo ok im done

I mean I’m assuming by “that scene” you mean the one with june, but tbh his misogyny isn’t relegated to simply one unpalatable scene. it’s reflected in how he treats azula (versus zuko) across the show. and I know that zuko is softer and more amenable than azula, and he has demonstrated a desire to do good that azula hasn’t, but it’s also quite troubling that iroh just writes off his fourteen year old niece as a lost cause when she is also the sibling who most resembles him. and he somehow just can’t seem to understand that she is worthy of the same empathy and compassion and understanding as zuko is, that playing favorites like this isn’t good or normal. and I actually think that azula has it way worse than iroh, both because she’s a girl and because azulon seemed to love iroh conditionally (despite clearly not feeling the same about ozai), whereas ozai’s love for azula is incredibly conditional and does not exempt her from his violence. but you know. her hysterical wandering womb is outta control she needs to go down she cant be trusted she’s a sickopath!!!! like. ok old man.

as for your next point, I do think that what iroh says about zuko’s ancestry reflecting the ideological battle within him is fully bullshit, but I do reconcile that by interpreting iroh’s claims not as what he truly believes, but as a rhetorical point he thinks might get through to zuko. because he’s really run the gamut of wisdom and guidance, some of it even being contradictory, just in an attempt to pierce through zuko’s thick, stubborn skull. and it does pay off, eventually, but it takes ages to get there. like how much do you wanna bet his first approach was to just straight up be like “your father is an abuser and you shouldn’t adhere to his dogmas.” and then when that didn’t work he started getting creative with it. and like, the reason it gets through to zuko isn’t even because roku was his great grandfather, but because he was ursa’s grandfather. and realizing that he too can be good and stand up for what he believes in, like her, his true role model, is his ultimate takeaway from that lesson. but I really do think by that point iroh’s rhetorical strategy was really to just throw vaguely pertinent metaphors at the wall to see what sticks.

#traegern #asks #iroh #zuko #azula #iroh&zuko #azula&iroh #azula&ozai #ursa&zuko #analysis #also thank u for calling it ‘fanfic’ and not ‘fic’ this is rly a pet peeve of mine #fiction????? just any fiction???????? #(i do also write ‘fic’ in this sense but like. that’s a completely different question)

[drdemonprince]

Something I think you're missing in how you talk about trans men: how recently you transitioned.

I came out circa 2007, and there was almost no information about us, no community where I lived (the local support group was all older trans women), no media outside of "Boys Don't Cry" and the way-better-but-still-basic "Parrotfish," no anything at all except TERF lesbian communities that coveted and hated us in equal measure, and general GSAs that were sweet, but dominated by cis people. I learned that the worst thing in the world I could be was a trans man - to be a trans man was to be a regressive agent of the patriarchy, and if I couldn't force myself to be nonbinary or a cis woman, I was evil.

In the early 2010s I attended a conference where a trans woman, a national celebrity I looked up to, made a joke about how useless trans men are during her keynote speech. I walked out of that room crying because as far as I knew, she was right - I was almost an elder by the standards of an atomized community where we were expected to die young, and even I couldn't name a single trans man in history who'd mattered.

We take it for granted now that trans men like Lou Sullivan made a difference, but to bring attention to him, folks like me had to swim upstream against a wave of accusations of misogyny from TERFs, and sometimes even from trans women. The acceptance you rejoice in at bathhouses? That was hard won through outreach by trans men. I even remember a specific trans male-run ambassador program in San Francisco circa 2013 dedicated to integrating trans men into the queer male community.

The world that's welcomed you was built by trans men who, like me, felt agonizingly alone and unwanted in both cis and trans communities. You paint a picture of lazy hangers-on who don't understand how good they have it, and maybe that's true for the folks you're looking at, but they don't reflect the hard work trans men have been putting in at every level of organizing for much longer than our efforts have been recognized. I've been involved in the fight for our liberation since I was a teenager, working on school and state-level policy change, medical access, the preservation of history, mentorship, dodging evictions, and all the little jobs my tired, autistic ass can take on, and I've never been rewarded for it outside the thanks of the people I've helped. All I ever wanted was to make things better for the generations that came after me.

I'd just like to have that reality acknowledged - that those of us who came before you built what you're now able to enjoy, and we can use that history to empower and encourage younger generations to continue doing the work instead of implying that no one's been doing it at all.

Thank you for this message. I would like to read a lot more about your perspective on this history. Please let me know your @ -- in private if you prefer. There are some elements of how this is framed here that do make me go, hm (the view was the worst thing you could be was a trans man?) but I am also appreciative of this this glimpse at what I don't know I don't know, and am interested to learn more about it.

But I also want to push back against the idea that I have no knowledge of how things were during the times you're talking about -- I was a queer, gender-questioning adult at that time too, and I was active in many trans spaces.

My medical transition is very recent in the grand scheme of things but I've been rolling deep with trans guys and going to trans masc events since 2003-2004 (in Cleveland and Columbus). I remember how the not-full-blown TERFY yet still very toxic radfems spoke about men, sexually preyed upon trans guys in some cases, and sometimes said things critical of transition. I knew several trans guys who had quite a guilt complex about becoming a "man" because they had internalized that men were inherently predatory and evil. Personally, I'd always thought that line of thinking was absurd and a very poor excuse for feminism, so it didn't get under my skin in the same way. Instead of making me not want to be a man, it made me not want to be a feminist. Which is pretty typical sexist bro shit to do really. Again, no big evidence of transmisandry here. certainly experiences that were emotionally very fraught and challenging for people, but not misandry or transmisandry.

These queer and feminist groups that I moved within were VASTLY more exclusionary to the trans femmes in the city, who were not even permitted to attend events for sexual assault survivors in the Columbus scene. I DID see trans women on the social periphery of these groups be discouraged from transitioning, and I did hear just about every vile transmisogynistic slur and exclusionary idea you can think of be passed around by many without challenge.

The transmisogyny stood out to me even back then as particularly egregious and rampant -- it disgusted me and caused me to distance myself from those groups of people in 2007-8. It was the outspoken hatred of anyone with an "amab" body and frothing transmisogyny that made me not want to be associated with that crowd or to contemplate transition, honestly -- not any kind of widespread anti-transmasc sentiment. These groups held top surgery fundraisers and hormone start date celebrates for trans guys and expressed desire for trans men openly and included them warmly in just about everything while treating trans women like predators and telling them they should just be feminine men (far, far away from them).

So my experience just does not track with what you are saying. I imagine we have two very different vantage points on similar periods of time, and I think there certainly is a lot more about trans masc history I could stand to learn and so many trans masc elders' whose names I should be putting more respect on. And I'd be very open to hearing more about that from you. But I do have to push back against the characterization of the era as someone who very much was there.

[cosmiclion]

An egg in the process of cracking 🥚

A design of younger Grell from my AU (she's about 20 here). I changed almost everything from her backstory since I first came up with this AU, notes (that I've been working on for months lol) under the cut.

(Also yes, I hid the hands behind the body because I didn't wanna draw them, don't mention it ☠️).

-Born in February 17th, 1863 in England, in this universe she's not a reaper but she's still not human.

-She's a werecat (I explored the concept for the first time in this post and I liked it so much that I ended up using it for my main AU). While werebeasts have a human form they are 100% nonhuman as the curse that turns someone into one fully alters their DNA. Adults are immune to the curse, which means if an adult gets bitten and survives they won't turn. However, cases of teenagers and younger surviving an attack aren't enough to properly determine up until which age a person can be affected. A child can also be born a werebeast as the curse can be passed to a fetus if a pregnant person gets bitten. The latter is Grell's case, as her mother got attacked during pregnancy.

-While she didn’t actually transform until her early teens, she did show feline traits from the beginning, such as a desire to hunt and chase small animals and moving objects, climbing trees or other structures, hiding in narrow spaces, etc.

-A homeschooled and pretty sheltered only child, with dead maternal grandparents, a dead father, an emotionally distant mother who eventually bailed on her and paternal grandparents who loved and spoiled her but didn’t really understand her on a deep level, Grell grew up angry and frustrated. She had always felt that something wasn't quite right with her, and when she slowly started to experiment to try to figure herself out she had no one to turn to. As a teenager she decided to just run away from home and leave everything behind. She knew she was leaving her grandparents to die alone but she didn’t care, she had never genuinely loved them anyway.

-She chose her own name AND surname, the first after a nickname her German grandparents often called her and the latter after a character from a book she liked.

-Struggles a lot with internalized misogyny thanks to a mix of her mother’s neglect and eventual abandonment and her grandparents only talking shit about said mother whenever they mentioned her, which greatly contributed to shape her views on motherhood and womanhood in general. Would love to have a child of her own but deep down that’s just because of her dysphoria, in reality she has very little patience for kids and is probably not the best parent material.

-Went through a phase of compulsive heterosexuality both when she thought she was a man and also after she realized she was a woman. Figuring out her orientation wasn’t any easier than figuring out her gender but she’s probably bi with a slight preference for men and masculinity in general.

-I still haven't come up with a story for what she does after leaving her home and before the main events, I only have some ideas. Like she's young when she goes out into the world, she's passionate and adventurous but also full of pent up anger. Also there's the small issue of her being a beast with a huge prey drive, being a trans girl in the middle of self discovery is harder when you're also learning about and trying to gain control of (or at least cope with) your literal wild side ☠️ I know that werebeasts' main driving force is hunger, and the longer they go without eating the more they revert back to a feral state. I'm tempted to make her go the serial killer route but in this case she doesn't have much control of her actions 🫢

-Her werecat form is based on a maine coon. When she first starts showing signs of therianthropy she doesn’t have much control of it, and transforming and becoming that big and rough looking makes her more dysphoric (even more so because “male” maine coons are bigger). Over time she starts accepting it and, as she discovers how powerful it makes her and all the things she can do with it and gains control of it, she fully embraces it as an important part of her.

-The only part of her feline form she cannot hide in human form are the teeth, no matter the form she takes she always has sharp fangs. This is a common trait of all werebeasts, some of them are self conscious about it and avoid smiling or opening their mouth at all while others are proud of it and will take any opportunity to flash their teeth at anyone (guess which one is Grell’s case lmao).

#eli's art #artists on tumblr #art #digital art #drawing #illustration #kuroshitsuji #kuroshitsuji au #kuro familiar au #black butler #black butler au #grell sutcliff #grelle sutcliff #werecat grell #werecat #eli rambles #long post #canon divergence #procreate app #i am going to create an au that is so self indulgent #not yoi

[lavender-teardroplettes]

Hi, it’s me, a BIPOC creator ready to talk about Tom

I’m going to preface this in saying that I was really hoping that Tom would listen to the people who were genuinely disappointed in him and wanted him to do better. I want to highlight that people were expressing their own past history with right wing grooming towards racist ideologies, dog whistles, and downplaying of Black and Indigenous suffering during the peak of the situation on top of all the hurt that comes with another trans person not understanding how bad their internalized transphobia is. In light of Tom deleting his tumblr, changing the L4L twitter username and privating both that account and the main one in question….I have some points as a disappointed ex-fan that I hope extends to other communities.

First and foremost; I would like to be clear and transparent:

I was one of the POC creators that asked QLP from Florescent Red Studios to echo my feelings at the time. I work a lot, I try and vividly express this and didn’t have the energy at the time to address this despite having a lot of words that I have gratefully seen echoed through the situation as it has developed. A few of them have carried over from seeing devs being harassed from a separate situation over the past year that I have a lot of words on. If you’re the perpetrators of that event I highly suggest you apologize and work on yourselves, but that’s an issue for another time.

To be honest, I will always be disappointed in people like Tom who hide these sort of hateful views, but…sometimes I can’t say I’m not surprised. I want to give people the benefit of the doubt, because, in all honesty, I love this community we’ve built despite the drawbacks that come with making something new out of nothing and wanting to support other people. I can say for certain that a lot of us were the weird kids, and it’s more than amazing to have that safety in community, but I can’t ignore that there are some issues.

We’re still people despite being online, people who sometimes can be more busy than usual. Tone is hard to pick up on and sometimes it’s hard to fully communicate how you feel, but immediately jumping into hatred and defensive mode is never the way to go, and there should be room for open discussion when people are hurt and still trying to make space to educate others. There should be space for open discussions because we have this mediation tool that we can walk away from and come back to when we look at it objectively and not emotionally.

Tom, if you see this, I want to ask you if you actually fucking care at all about me and what a lot of people in the BIPOC community went through/are currently going through in the hands of conservatives that have groomed you into their ideology. I want to ask you if you really know about the actual fetishization we face if it isn’t straight up murder, misogyny/misogynoir, etc? Because it sounds to me like you were a tourist and I’ve strictly only been to either sides of the coast because you will never catch me in the South in this country unless I am in severely Black populated cities. And even then you’d never fucking catch me in the South.

It’s hard for me to touch on the grooming topic further because I’m a victim of multiple instances of CSA….I don’t believe in just pointing at one community, I think every community should keep themselves in check when it comes to shaming and ousting out p*dos and N*zis at the least- because again, they shouldn’t fucking be tolerated.

I will echo this sentiment: if you don’t condone what you’re writing about, you shouldn’t be condoning or perpetuating worse actions in a community full of BIPOC, disabled, marginalized, etc fans in real life.

On the note of BIPOC, please…please actually learn about our history and struggles. Whether it’s taking a history course, watching BIPOC educators….it’s something I think people should really learn about. It’s painful, it’s hard, but it’s what we have to live with everyday and don’t have the energy to remind people of all the time because of how draining it is.

I will be clear, I’m expressing my disappointment. I don’t want any harassment towards anyone, you shouldn’t be lowering yourself to that level.

But- I’m fucking tired and am urging people to do better. Please.

#si speaks #lurking for love #yan vn community #tbh I didn’t really wanna type this out #I hate being this guy #but I had time to really figure out my words #I’m disappointed #please do better #I only want the best for people #I’m also on mobile so sorry for the long post #I can’t speak for the Jewish fans hurt in this situation #but I see you #I hear you #I extend my love and support to you #carnivorekitty

[mareenique]

After reading many brilliant thoughts by others about it, I’ve managed to put my own thoughts about AMC’s IWTV and race in order and write it down. I’m only talking about the tv series because I’ve only recently started reading the books and it’s been a while since I watched the movie, so I won’t compare them. I’m also a white European woman so I’m sure there are things that I’m missing, but maybe I can still contribute something.

-------

One thing that was a big take-away for me while watching this series in regard to how it talks about race, is how you don’t have to be a racist in order to profit from a racist society and your place within white supremacy.

Or in other words: Lestat expresses how strange and stupid he finds the racial hierarchy that he encounters in America (and surely doesn’t believe in the race theory of the time, contrary to the other white rich men Louis has to deal with on a daily basis) but he still profits from his place in a racist society.

The show explicitly shows us that neither Louis wealth nor his existence as a vampire allow him to get away from how he is perceived and treated. And Lestat doesn’t get it. Because he sees himself as an individual. Someone who is neither connected to humanity, nor to whiteness. But Louis doesn’t get that luxury.

I think what upsets some people is that because in this adaptation Louis (and Claudia) are Black suddenly Lestat can also no longer be seen as an individual but also as someone in the context of how he is racialized = white. And that‘s something that makes us white people so uncomfortable when we are forced to do it for the first time (or the xxxth time, if we don’t learn to work through it...), because we are so used to seeing ourselves purely as individuals. And it really enhances the story in my opinion. Because the story was always set in “our” reality, not in a race-, gender-, or class-less fantasy world. But now race can’t be ignored. Just like it can’t and shouldn’t be ignored in the real world. Just like homophobia (external and internal) isn’t ignored in this series either. And it’s not done in a way that tells the majority audience “oh no look, sad Black/gay people.” but in a way that resonates with the minority audience (as far as I can tell) and forces the majority audience to think about why they are feeling uncomfortable and sit with it.

Over on my Twitter I talked about how wonderfully not sensational (not “oh look! two MEN kissing!”) the intimate scenes between Louis and Lestat are in this series are, how their homosexuality isn’t shown as shocking or scandalous to the viewer but treated as just two people in a (very complicated) love story. But I’m sure that someone with a lot of unresolved homophobia might feel very uncomfortable with that, and that’s good. I hope they sit with that feeling and THINK. But I’m getting off-track.

Lestat doesn’t think of Louis and Claudia as “lesser than” because of their race, however he also doesn’t see them as his equals. Which is probably because he just knows how much they don’t know and how vulnerable they will be in the “world out there”. But he also doesn’t tell them, yes because he wants to protect them, but also BECAUSE he doesn’t see them as equals.

After ep 6, I’ve seen some posts where people were upset about Claudia talking about Lestat as “massa” when she speaks to Louis, but I think it’s really just her interpreting not being treated as an equal in the way that comes most natural to her given the world she grew up in: She would read his behavior as racism and misogyny. Yes it’s uncomfortable, but it makes sense in the story and the timeline.

She emphasizes the racial context in her conversations with Louis because she knows that their connecting elements are that they’re both Black and they’ve both been turned by Lestat and thus belong to him in a way. So she does what she thinks she has to do to get Louis on her side. Because she knows she can’t break free of Lestat on her own.

And Lestat in that train scene is such a perfect performance of how you can be horribly racist and misogynistic without actively thinking that the other person is “less than” because of their race or gender, but simply by employing the tools that you have been handed IN a racist and misogynistic society. He wants to make her stay because he doesn’t want Louis to retreat back into his shell again like the last time Claudia was gone. But how does he do that? By employing the tools handed to him by a racist and misogynistic society: He uses the image of the cage and his knowledge about the abuse that happened to her against her. As a white man both of these tools (racism and misogyny) are easy for him to use in order to get what he wants, because there are systems of oppression behind his words that make them more powerful. Does he know that that’s what he’s doing, or does he just pick the low hanging fruits handed to him by the society he lives in? I don’t know.

But I mean, it’s basically summed up in Kwame Ture (Stokely Carmichael) quote, right?

"If a white man wants to lynch me, that's his problem. If he's got the power to lynch me, that's my problem. Racism is not a question of attitude; it's a question of power."

So anyone being angry about how “the series made Lestat racist and he wouldn’t do that” is missing a point in my opinion. I don’t think the series ever portrays him as a racist in the way that it does with the other white characters around him. The series just shows us what every white person living in a society rooted in white supremacy is capable of doing (not because we are inherently bad or whatever bs) because we live in a society that allows us to do these things, and gives our actions power if we follow the easy route and choose to act in a way that is in line with the power structure we exist in.

The racism of the time that the story Louis is telling us is set in is very overt and so we can see it more easily and it’s more easy to see why it’s wrong. So we don’t want ourselves or the white characters we love to be associated with THAT.

But rather than stopping there, we should take the lesson taught to us and allow it to reflect on how we view the story as a whole. How do we view our own emotional relationship to the characters in this context, and how do we or don’t we relate to them and why?

-------

Louis in the present is very rich and thus somewhat outside of the restraints still put on racialized people in our modern world. But I hope the series will keep the way they are incorporating race, gender and sexuality in the past story line in the present story line as well. So far we’ve only seen our modern day vampire(s) interact with one person: Daniel. So it hasn't really come up. Aside maybe from the way Daniel sees no issue with interrupting Rashid during prayer (which could be read as a comment about the way western anti-religious people often have low respect for religiosity, especially non-Christian religiosity. But tbh I don't think it's THAT deep and just another random incident of Daniel being a bit blunt and a bit rude). But I wonder how things might change once we step outside of that tower in Dubai and meet other vampires and see how they interact with the world.

And maybe there is also a comment about race in how present day Louis chooses to surround himself with a majority of non-white humans in Dubai. Now that he is in a situation where he gets to make the rules about who he keeps around, how and where he lives, and how he sustains himself, this is the environment he had built for himself. He is rich enough to exist outside of a human-made white majority power structure, and rich enough to have human blood without going against his personal moral codex.

That seems like a pretty perfect situation from the perspective of past!Louis. But even if we can say that he has achieved to break free from a lot of the restraints of a racist and homophobic world in the present day, he still doesn’t seem like he enjoys the kind of life he has now, living nearly alone in that beautiful but also cold and sterile tower...

#interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv amc #lestat de lioncourt #louis de pointe du lac #claudia interview with the vampire #I bottled up all of my thoughts about this series for too long and now that I actually sat down to write them out it got much too long #I should try to write more frequently and keep it shorter #if you read this thank you #I enjoy this series and the way it makes me think so much #especially the present timeline is so so interesting and I really hope we get a bit more of it during the second season #but they'll probably keep throwing us breadcrumbs for a while #mareenique-iwtv-thoughts

[the-lincyclopedia]

For the au meme check please meets modern queen's thief characters?

Ohhhh man, let's see.

The Queen's Thief characters are all affiliated with Harvard's hockey program in some way--I think Irene is the manager of the men's team, Helen is the captain of the women's team, Sophos plays defense on the men's team, and Gen is manager of the women's team. (Gen is fiercely loyal to the women's team, both on its merits and because of Helen, and Irene wants the exposure and prestige that comes with being associated with the men's team and mayyyybe has some internalized misogyny to work through.)

Relius and the Magus co-coach the men's team. I'm thinking maybe Ornon coaches the women's team, and he and Gen butt heads a lot. And maybe Teleus is athletic director or something.

But anyway, worlds colliding! Lardo finds Irene arrogant and inflexible when they both manage their respective schools' men's teams. For some reason, my mind is very stuck on the idea that Holster and Sophos have a homoerotic rivalry involving intense checking that definitely doubles as foreplay and eventually hook up. And since we never see Samwell Women's Hockey in Check Please . . .

Gen and Helen remain blissfully unaware of SMH until most of both crews have graduated and Irene, Gen, and Helen go to watch Sophos (and the rest of Irene’s beloved knucklehead men's hockey players who are still on the team) while Jack, Shitty, Lardo, Ransom, and Holster are supporting Bitty. The two groups collide due to some shenanigans (there are so many possibilities with these two sets of characters).

At which point: Shitty and Gen bond over being deeply intelligent agents of chaos who also drink their Respect Women Juice, Irene and Jack bond over being incredibly competent hard-asses whose relationships are teaching them to loosen up a bit, and Lardo develops a crush on Helen. I don't know what Ransom and Holster do, but I'm guessing they're happy to be along for the ride. Maybe Holster's hookup with Sophos comes up at some point and everyone teases Holster a bit (since they can't currently tease Sophos given that he's on the ice).

#a lin original #queen's thief #the queen's thief #qt #omgcheckplease #omgcp #check please #ask game

[rottentiger-art]

Love how the fandom basically agrees we are only watching for Loagn x Quinn and not damn Zoey 😂

hahaha yes, I'd say 90% of people will do the same.

It's not surprising, I know many of us rewatch season 4 just because of them. They really outshined the protagonist and main ship, and hope the producers don't forget than and give us a decent amount of content from them.

Why I think that is, the reason the audience lean more to Logan and Quinn or Quogan than Zoey and Choey, it's because both L and Q character's developed very well season through season. I mentioned before that I hated Logan on season 1, but he became a favorite mid season 2. Quinn was always always a favorite of mine, but she also got her development and it made me love her more. The same could be said about their relationship, they gradually moved from enemies to frenemies to friends to lovers, it was a beautifully paced thing and then we also got to see how they acted as a couple, and it was surprisingly healthy! the actors also had mad chemistry, they sold the love story very well.

Zoey and Choey however...

I disliked Zoey from season 1, I thought she would get better in the future but for me she got worse. She was very self centered and annoying and the show tried very hard to make us believe everyone loved her and she was an amazing person, but she just wasn't. I don't think she was a good friend, she wasn't a bad person, but she just,,, idk how to explain it. When I started rewatching I hoped I liked this time around, I thought "oh maybe it was just internalized misogyny or smth", but nah, I disliked her again (same for S1 Logan, god what a little jerk), she just showed no development either, and I think it was bc the writers didn't think she needed it, I think they thought she was perfect like that.

And she had no chemistry with Chase, not even with James. Zoey just wasn't charismatic for me, didn't have that charm to make her a loved character (this is all my opinion btw, it's okay if you disagree and do like her), I ended up liking any other character before her (even Logan who I hated, I think that says a lot), I ended up wishing any of the characters took over as the protagonist or got a spin off (I would absolutely watch a quogan or michael spin off, episodes about them were always the funniest. I would've even watched a Chase on england spin off. I can't fault JLS' acting bc she was just a kid ig (even tho her co-stars made an amazing job at selling a character), I mostly blame the writers.

And i wasn't like with Tori Vega, were it's understable to dislike her on the first season, but after the writers worked in making her likeable and then if you still hate her that's just on you. They never worked on making Zoey better.

And as for Choey, I think they played the will they-won't they game too long, and people got tired.

sorry this turned into an anti zoey rant lol, I really don't wanna be beefing with a fictional teen lol. But like, yea, I think that's the reason why nearly no one is watching because of Zoey/Choey.

#ask box #anon #quogan #anti choey #anti zoey brooks #tagging just in case #zoey 101 #zoey 102 #rant

[rosemarydisaster]

The problem with Katara in so many adaptation (live actions and books inspired by Zutara fanfic) is that we really don't know how to write women. We don't.

We think being feminist women or loving the character is enough, but it's not. Katara and Toph in the og series are a rare treat because they're treated just like the male characters from a writing standpoint.

They're allowed to be wrong, they're allowed to be silly, they're allowed to have flaws as much as they have strengths. Especially at the beginning of the story, when they still need to work through their issues so they can have a compelling character arc.

Right now writers are overcorrecting the misogyny of decades prior by making female characters that are, simply put, too perfect. The text says "oh she's insecure" or "she's a little hotheaded", but it hardly affects them in any relevant way. It's a flaw because characters are supposed to have flaws. But it's not really a flaw because you don't want to risk making your female characters unlikeable. They have nothing to overcome internally as a character arc.

The female characters end up always on the right side, and if they are wrong it's only because they couldn't have possibly known it was wrong (and they'll still punish themselves as if they had made an actual mistake). They're powerful girlbosses, they're smart, they're beautiful, they're good and the have no discernable personality. Like, 90% of mainstream female characters right now are recolored skins of the same person.

Live action Katara and Suki didn't have a fucking chance because misogynistic writers and "feminist" (more like, girlboss) writers both end up treating women more like a concept than as real human beings.

#katara #live action Katara #avatar the last airbender #avatar live action #Netflix Avatar

[happysadyoyo]

"Talking about trans men "playing up the F in AFAB" to access women spaces. Please someone send me an ask about this specifically so I have an excuse to go off tomorrow after work."

Fourth time's the charm right?

And I gotta disclaim that I'm one of them transes who sees his past self as the gender he thought he was. Little 11 year old me? Girl. I was a girl up to the point I wasn't and I don't really know where that line is. Somewhere between 19 and 25. But I do call myself AFAB and I do see a lot of my experiences as a child and teen as being both through the lenses of womanhood and closeted/subconscious transness.

So needless to say I'm a little biased and get a little angry when this argument that trans masculine people are trying to play up the F in their AGAB up.

First and foremost, the biggest push away from AGAB language I've seen is from nonbinary and trans masculine folks. So let's jot that down (again though, I have consciously put myself into spaces that allow me to hear these voices over trans feminine voices after nearly a decade of the reverse).

And there's the fact that trans people who present with traditionally "female" reproductive and secondary sex characteristics are typically more vulnerable in men only spaces... we gotta be realistic here. People who look like women are going to be treated like women by strangers and while I'm a firm advocate for not treating all men like dirt... well. We have statistics.

And that's even if there are men spaces... shit like shelters for domestic violence victims oh so rarely allow men in the first place.

Plus, let's not forget a lot of this "playing up the F in AFAB" talk is coming around during the repeal of Roe v Wade in the US, which brought up the discussion of reproductive healthcare and abortion access back into international center stage. We're supposedly leaning on our AGAB by pointing out that We! Need! Healthcare! And our healthcare needs generally line up with those seen as women's only.

A totally stealth trans man who is being denied reproductive healthcare because he's legally a man is going to have to lean on his AGAB to get a checkup with the ObGyn. Otherwise they're not going to see him... because he doesn't look like a woman to him. Sometimes, using your AGAB is necessary, if only because the largely cishet world doesn't get that sometimes women have dicks and men have vaginas, and there are some people who want both or neither.

Finally, and I guess this just irritates me the most because of the above mentioned bias... saying trans masculine and nonbinary folks are playing up their AGAB is outright denying the way so many of us grew up. I was raised as a girl. I was seen as a girl. I had expectations put on me that only women in my small part of Southern Baptist culture would have. I had a promise ring. I memorized the Proverbs 31 wife list. I had nightmares of my wedding night, and I was made fun of and belittled by my own mother for not liking makeup and not taking care of my appearance. My lack of sexual harassment, despite it being a super common thing for girls and women, still has me mentally fucked up despite now identifying mostly male.

I'm not playing up my AGAB by talking about these experiences and saying that I've experienced misogyny because of how I am seen. Claiming the trauma and benefits of womanhood when I saw myself as a girl and when the world sees me as a woman (as it oh so overwhelmingly does currently) is not me trying to play up my AGAB for victimhood points or to access women's only spaces.

Yes, there are trans men, masculine folks, and nonbinary people who were AFAB and currently enter women's spaces where AMAB folks aren't allowed. If I wasn't aware of them before, I certainly am after getting through the first few chapters of Whipping Girl because Julia Serano does not shut up about it. She's clearly salty despite pretending not to be.

But guess what! There's shitty trans women and trans feminine people out there too! Baeddels! TIRFs! The fact that there's shitty trans people like Buck Angel or Caitlyn Jenner is just because they're people! Who happen to be trans! And people will absolutely use whatever they can as leverage to be shitty! That's why there are gay and black Republicans. They leveraged their minority status to become figures in a group that hates them. Shocking.

But for fuck's sake, saying trans men, masculine, and nonbinary folks who happened to be AFAB are trying to express their victimhood through the F in their AGAB both reeks of ROGD as well as a clear yellow flag that maybe

just maybe

these people are trying to find the language to talk about the problems they're facing but people like Serano aren't letting them.

#julia serano #transandrophobia #exorsexism #nbphobia #fuck julia serano so much

[stewykablooey]

i'd like to hear your thoughts on shiv's homophobia if you have any? 👀 ngl i did a double take when you called her homophobic—clearly she can conveniently use homophobia to emasculate her interlocutor, but i don't think she has any deep-seated beliefs of the sort, unlike kendall and his misogyny and the fact that he doesn't want to involve her in the business partly because of that

which brings us to

she'd probably replicate the sympathy/solidarity thing with stewy too, in this case because she's a woman and he's a brown man, paired with the fact that the two of them, unlike kendall, 1) can't simply conceal who they are, 2) are not allowed to assert masculinity in an aggressive way. quite obviously shiv's relationship to stewy is largely mediated by their respective relationships with kendall but i won't say more

hi <3

you’re right in that shiv is not homophobic in the sense of having deep-seated beliefs on the matter at all, shiv’s issue with gayness has less to do with the physicality of it but more of the gender implications which is to say that shiv’s homophobia is really just an extension of her internalized misogyny. it’s again related with the masculinity aspect, it’s not about how gay you are but how much you will deviate from your gender and most importantly how much of that is a threat to her? in terms of gay men, shiv sees it as just an extended boys club that she cant access even if it’s just through sex and attraction, the one card she can play as a woman (this was first mentioned by @/shesnake and @/akajustmerry in their succession gaytv podcast episode which i highly recommend) but also it’s how much can their masculinity trump their gayness. out of all the siblings shiv is probably the one that shares logan’s ideas of masculinity the most. she thinks ken is too soft and she thinks roman is weird and she thinks connors lame and its because they just dont align to that idea of logan-masculinity (without getting too daddy issues about it lol) which is also why she’s with tom, because he’s just masculine enough but also decidedly not masculine enough to be a real threat to overshadow her.

which all applies to shiv’s relationship to stewy because stewy is the ultimate threat because he plays at both masculinity and femininity like stewy will never be a logan-type masculine and he knows that which is why he plays to his other strengths which is charm and it’s so carefully cultivated on stewys end Because he knows he can never pass as a logan-type masculine so he Has to play up the handsome charm and confidence but also stewy Is inherently masculine in that he definitely fits in as a man even if it’s the asshole insane amounts of money SUCCESS cocaine party animal kind of man, which may not be man enough in logans book but it’s definitely man enough for the world stewy is operating in which is why he can operate in it so successfully and the success is key. stewy’s riches are self made for the most part which gives him power and status in being an earner and a moneymaker but also stewy’s not in a position of leading stewys not vying for ceo he’s not vying to be top dog which is why he doesn’t Need a logan-type masculinity But he still needs some kind of masculinity to stay afloat which goes back to his crucially self-managed image. in terms of shiv, stewy confuses her in that he isnt a logan-type masculine but a) it doesnt bother him/he doesnt want to be and b) he’s still a winner anyway. but also there’s that edge of homophobia in that she’s confused and annoyed about it because she really thinks ‘youre not a real man. why are you thriving here?’ but also with a little bit ‘you’re a little bit feminine you’re a little bit masculine how does that work/im pissed off that that won’t work for me’ but also again going back to ‘being charming is the card i get to play, but now you get to play it too but also again it works for you but not for me’

there is Also of course. racism. shiv would never feel a solidarity with stewy over him being brown and her being a woman because she’s racist. kendall being gay and her being woman has a common denominator of being white before it has a common denominator of being oppressed. the racism also feeds into shiv’s opposition to stewy’s masculinity. ‘you’re not a man’ is as much because he doesn’t fit an idea of masculinity that she understands as much as it is just her not seeing him as as much of a man because he’s not white.

#this is so long and for what lmao #peace and love #ask #m

[the-peruvian-whovian]

An alternate Barbie movie ending *spoilers, obviously*

.

What if instead of choosing to become human, Barbie decided to become Weird? The story was already leading up to "weirdness" as complexity and depth, and setting up a very common womanhood conflict: being pretty vs. being expressive.

Weird Barbie isn't "pretty" anymore because she's been played with too hard and mutilated. But what if we establish those "alterations" of Barbie as creativity instead of destruction—little girls cutting and coloring their Barbie's hair and tattooing their skin with markers as a form of self-expression? That would tie perfectly with the theme that it's more important to "be yourself" than it is to "be pretty". In the original movie, even though her human (Gloria) wasn't chopping up her hair or burning her clothes, she was still altering her by imbuing "weird thoughts" in her like death and depression.

What if Stereotypical Barbie (Gloria's Barbie) and Weird Barbie (let's make it her daughter Sasha's Barbie) worked together to heal the mother-daughter rift? Like, let’s say Gloria finds Sasha weird and creepy for chopping up her Barbie’s hair and coloring it green and scribbling over her face as a kid, and for being brooding and off-kilter as a teen because she, Gloria, prefers a more traditional expression of femininity for herself. And Sasha thinks her mom is sterile and uncool, hates her girliness with deep reactionary internalized misogyny because the mere presence of her mother's traditional femininity feels like an expectation and a box for her. But their Barbies make them realize they are both strange and out-of-the-box in their own ways, and that they are both capable of hurting each other with mutual misogyny and contradictory expectations. Through the story, they find a way to appreciate each other’s different expressions of femininity, and their different rejections of it.

And then the climax could have been the CEOs forcing Stereotypical Barbie into the box to keep her pristine and sterile and pretty to be admired for all time, but never again be an extension of playtime, creativity or an avatar for a young girl's imagination. For a double whammy you could even make this be an allegory for Gloria’s (and many mothers') anxieties about aging (!!!), which is once again about the conflict between being pretty vs. being expressive. You can have Barbie's big moment be her choosing to be present for the human women she cares about instead of a future where being looked at is the most important thing!

We could still have the interaction with Ruth Handler at the end, but instead of Ruth giving Barbie her blessing to become human, she gives her a blessing to become Weird. A creator giving her creation the blessing to become something beyond what she intended—paralleling Gloria's experience of motherhood with her daughter. Both Ruth and Gloria navigate misogyny/oppression while being the imperfect creators of autonomous beings who choose to become something they didn’t intend. This way, we even take a little corporate responsibility for the way Barbie has been used to enforce femininity on young girls, but it still keeps that tender moment that makes women feel like they can be anything they choose to be, beyond patriarchy's expectations, and even beyond their mother's imaginations.

We could have that scene edited alongside a conversation between Gloria and Sasha where they accept each other and heal their rift. Since Barbie is sort of a representation of Gloria's inner child, that gives this moment a intergenerational feel: an older woman blessing a mid-adult woman, a mid-adult woman blessing a teen girl. I loved Gloria's "being a woman is literally impossible" speech in the original movie, but I wish the story had shown Gloria and Sasha go through any of the struggles she listed in her monologue to make it hit more emotionally for me within the narrative. In this version, maybe Gloria is a stay-at-home mom and Sasha is angry that her mom isn't feminist enough, or maybe Gloria is a career woman and Sasha is angry her mom doesn't spend enough time with her. Maybe Sasha wants to express her fashion choices and sexuality and Gloria acts out against it because is afraid Real World patriarchy is going to eat her alive. But in that weird nether world between Barbie World and the Real World, with Ruth Handler and their Barbies looking on, they can come to have grace for each other and accept that their choices are both valid and impossible. That they've both just trying to cling to each other to survive the contradictory expectations of women, and that ultimately their best allies are each other.

If you end THAT with a montage of moms and daughters throughout time, with that sad Billie Eilish song, I would ABSOLUTELY cry.

#barbie #barbie movie #barbie 2023 #barbie spoilers #alternate ending #rewrite #I obviously have strong Toy Story 2 and Everything Everywhere All At Once influence in here #ALSO IN MY VERSION SASHA IS GAY BYE *COUGH COUGH* WHO SAID THAT #make either of them trans and the story's message elevates even more #make all the Barbies canonically non-binary since they are representations of women and not actually women themselves #and also keep the 'I don't have a vagina' joke that was so funny #diana's writing

[myloveforhergoeson]

ash's march 2024 reading round up

find all the books and fics i read this month under the cut with a link to the synopsis and my reviews/ratings attached :)

this is just for fun! i'm not a professional, i just like to read <3

booklist!

The Mistake by Elle Kennedy (18+)

• review: good book, fun read! nothing extraordinary but entertaining nonetheless, but i did struggle because the two main characters share the names of a few of my best friends... weird. anyway, i'm such a sucker for a second-chance romance, as logan and grace have in this novel after they're on the path to a relationship, but logan can't seem to get over the girl his best friend is dating... after a summer apart, both of them return to college and find themselves getting mixed up in each others business, which allows for time to reevaluate and find out together just what went wrong! love seeing a man grovel after he makes a mistake lol. but, again, it was a fun read, nothing super special or groundbreaking and i think elle kennedy has some internalized misogyny she needs to work out which comes through a bit in her writing sometimes. i don't think women in romance novels should always be put through terrible situations to culminate in a moment of love-clarity, but that's just me. that scene told me more about logan's character than grace's, which was nice to see him stand up for her and her friend, but still. hurt to read a bit. i am also slightly worried for graces' future as a therapist. she has absolutely no empathy when logan was opening up about his struggles with his father's alcoholism - to her credit, he wasn't telling her everything, not that he needs to, but still... regardless, i thought these two were cute. even after he blew her off big time in the beginning, he worked to prove he made a mistake and actively worked to better himself. i thought graces' list of things he needed to do to win her over was adorable - i wish there was more time spent on seeing him complete these tasks! the ramona (grace's kind of best friend) side plot was interesting but i was very caught off guard with how it was resolved... but! still enjoyed this book nonetheless~

• tw: depictions and scenes around alcoholism in a side character, side character held at party against her will

• rating: 3/5 boxes of blonde hair dye it must've taken grace to dye her hair

2. Happy Place by Emily Henry (18+ish)

• review: oh my god oh my god oh my GOD!!!!!!!! no book i've ever read has had such an emotional grip on me. i must've cried like five separate times while reading this book - not because it's sad, but because i found myself identifying with so many of the themes (and also because i may or may not have been going through it at the time of reading). this is a beautifully written tale about two ex-fiances, wyn and harriet, reuniting five months after their break up to join their friends on their yearly vacation to their favorite place in the world - a beach house in maine! - without telling anyone they've broke up. now, they must play the part of the once-happy couple they were in order to keep the peace and not ruin everyone's vacation. seeing how family, friendship, growing up, moving apart, grief, and not listening to one's heart affected each character absolutely gutted me in ways i was not expecting at all. like i said, i identified with so many of these themes, and the way they're all interwoven throughout the book is so masterful it literally brought me to tears. and not like silent streaks, i was sobbing at some parts. i also really loved that the book was told between two time periods: the present or "real life" and the past or "happy/dark place" so we could see the full span of wyn and harrys relationship, the connections they made with their friends, and how important each and every character is to each other. the scenes of the past felt so nostalgic, like i was there with everyone as friendships, and subsequently relationships, developed. the scenes from the present were just as comforting, even with all their real-life struggles. oh, yeah, and it was a romance novel. dubs for the second chance romance this month! anyway this one absolutely wrecked me and i cannot recommend it enough; one of my favorite books of all time! i could literally talk about it forever, but i'll stop here for now!

• rating: 5/5 times i stained the pages w my tears <3

3. Do Your Worst by Rosie Danan (18+)

• ok. lots to say about this one too but for different reasons lol. overall, i love the concept of this book. an archaeologist (clark) attempting to hit his big break after a rough patch, a curse breaker (riley) hired at the same site because the castle they're excavating has not let anyone discover much about it for hundreds of years, scottish folklore, romance... on paper this is a perfect book for someone like me, who loves both archaeology and the supernatural. however. i do not think that the concept of enemies to lovers really works in modern settings. i really think i've only enjoyed that trope in fantasy settings, but that's just me. like, you're telling me she straight up threatens him with a knife in the first 30 pages and he didn't immediately call the cops on her? he tries to humiliate her not even two chapters later? she breaks into his camper a chapter later? like yall... this isn't even enemies to lovers these guys just straight up hate each other. besides that, i thought the concept was fun. the curse placed upon the castle hundreds of years ago was on a romeo-and-juliet type couple and ended up affecting clark and riley in the same way, hence the enemies to lovers aspect. i thought the castle pushing them to be together to make up for what happened in the past was really cute! that being said the book specifically called out the enemies to lovers trope by name like eight separate times. it made me want to scream! we know that's whats going on, no need to repeat it! and i love a good modern reference, but im not sure four separate criminal minds shout outs were necessary. i love matthew gray gubler too but i do not need that to be randomly thrown in for no apparent reason. the book was really slow to start, i don't think i was really interested until about halfway through. also, i'll say it. some people really aren't meant to be together and i think those people are riley and clark. physical chemistry does not equal emotional chemistry and his confession really just came out of nowhere - i was so jarred. overall, weak characters, okay cringe millennial writing, and very interesting, detailed, and well thought out plot. there were some really great parts that made me blush or laugh out loud!

• 2.5/5 times clark made a comment no self respecting archaeologist would ever make...

fic list!

learning to love by autisticbarbie (3k)

• fandom: big time rush (tv)

• pairing: james diamond/original male character

• yall... such a cute one shot. literally had me giggling and kicking my feet and shit while reading. very well written too; i was so invested!!

this was the only fic i finished this month because i typically go for longer stories! (sorry to the two Inuyasha one shots i read and forgot to bookmark...)

but, i just started an incredibly long dr who/ofc fic called lost in time by whovianeverlark17 on wattpad and, as always, i'm reading icegirl2772's james diamond/ofc story take a shot in the dark on ao3! i'm not at the point where i've read enough of the first to recommend, but if you're a fan of btrtv fics take a shot in the dark is definitely for you!!!!!!! i love you oc fics i love you!

#once again: just for fun! not here to start anything - i'm just sharing my opinions #not giving the fic a star rating bc if someone did that to mine i'd throw up but it was very very good just trust me! #ash talks books #the mistake #elle kennedy #happy place #emily henry #do your worst #rosie danan