#I mean it in he deserves better writing for fucks sake

[that-spider-witch]

Thaddeus Thawne II deserves better

#and I don't just mean it as in he deserves good things happen to him and a redemption arc #well that too #I mean it in he deserves better writing for fucks sake #DC took a tragic villain of a kid and then turned him into an edgy baby killer because edge #he's up there with Cassandra Cain in terms of 'Look how they massacred my boy' #he deserves better than that #DC comics #thaddeus thawne #impulse #the flash #flashfam

[pupcuck]

PUPPY LOVE !

ft. leon s. kennedy x f!reader

tags. puppy hybrids, knotting, chris is the owner but he’s like not fucking, virginity loss, vendetta leon, age gap, lots of spit

notes. i write gn reader usually but this is super sickeningly self indulgent so it’s fem reader ughdhfh im so sorry this is crossposted on my ao3 :3 NOT BETA READ If u see a typo no you didn’t!!! I am so humiliated by this fic um this only makes sense with vendetta Leon so keep him in mind

“C’mon, buddy, ain’t it a cutie?” You’re being held up, some scary man's hands under your armpits, legs dangling in the air as he shows you off to an older dog.

It. How rude. You’re a lady for god's sake. An ill-tempered little lady in fact. This is growing tedious, so you let out a noise of warning, and clamp down on his forearm with your canines. They’re just in. Fresh and white. Had taken a while, you were a bit of a late bloomer, but they're here now, and that’s all that matters.

“Shit,” the man clicks his tongue, “you got some spunk, huh, pup?” He places you down on the ground, and you sink to your knees with a soft huff. “What’d you think, Leon?”

So that’s his name. The older dog, Leon. He looks worn out and mean. Brows furrowed, wrinkled forehead, dark hair that obscures most of his face. What a creep. You’ve been set up, the old lady at the pet shop told you this was going to be fun! She said you were gonna meet someone handsome, a stud who’d give you puppies. This dog looks like he doesn’t even go into rut anymore. His glory days are so over. Ten years past his prime. You stick your nose in the air and refuse to acknowledge him. He does the same.

“Leon, come on, buddy,” the man, well, you guess he’s your owner now, tries to coax him over, “don't be like this.”

Leon simply rolls onto his side, his ears flopping over so the pink underside is seen. Rude. You’re so pretty any normal mutt would be begging for it. But, you guess he’s just faulty. ‘Cause he’s an old man. Duh. This is so unfair, a pampered pooch like you deserves so much better. A two bedroom apartment with a single bathroom, and an open-plan kitchen is just not classy.

“Fuck, Leon, you always gotta be so damn difficult.” Your owner crouches down, fastens a collar around your neck. It’s pink so that's good at least. You’re a stupid pup, can’t quite make out what’s engraved on the doggy bone charm, but you assume it would be your name. “There you go, girl, you like it?”

You tilt your head to the side, but ultimately nod your head with a forced smile. Getting on your owner’s good side would be ideal. Maybe he’d spoil you a little extra. He’s awfully handsome when you take a moment to really look at him. Why couldn’t he have been the stud?

“That’s a good girl,” he presses a soft kiss to your head, “why don’t you go make yourself comfortable, pup?” He gives you a little smack on the bottom, makes you jump. Gosh. His hands are so big. He’s so big. You felt the way he flexed under your teeth earlier. So much meat to him.

With another huff, you walk around, sniff the couch cushions, press a dainty paw to the wall, admire all the framed photos. They’ve been together for a long time it seems. Your owner and Leon. He used to be perfectly pretty. Sunflower blonde, dopey smile on his slightly rounded face, puppy fat softening all his rough edges. Cute. You wish he still looked like that. His tail looks like more of a blur in the photos, towards the end he starts to mellow out, turning into what you’ve seen of him today. Moody.

“Leon was a military dog,” your owner explains. You don’t know what that means, but you think it’s important. Considering all the strange clothes with leather straps and that ugly green print, there’s even a gun in your owner’s hands. “He’s retired now though. I thought you’d cheer him up a little.”

You blink at your owner, pressing your nose into his hand when he offers it, pink tongue licking at his salty fingers. Yeah, you like him. He’s firm and sweet. Smiles at you in a way that’s kind. Leon is the only problem. Whatever. He’ll kick the bucket soon enough, or maybe your owner will get tired of him. After all, you can’t teach an old dog new tricks, but you’ve got plenty up your sleeve to show off. Rolling over, batting your lashes, smiling, looking pretty. You’ve got it handled.

“You know how to speak, pup?” Owner cups your cheeks, “my name is Chris,” he says it slowly, waits till you repeat it back to him.

“Chris…” you’re hesitant to speak, unsure of if you did it right. He pats your head, offers you a paw-shaped treat, that must mean you did well.

“Such a good girl, aren’t you?” Gosh. You like him lots ‘n lots. This place ain’t so bad after all.

“She’s settling in well,” Chris is on the phone with somebody, “no, course not, god, she’s a star.” He’s talking ‘bout you, and you like it. You’re the apple of his eye these days.

He scratches behind your ears as you sit beside him, chewing on a squeaky toy you gnawed at so bad it popped. Leon is laying on the floor as usual, sleeping soundly on a warm spot. You'd given him a shifty kick earlier, but he just grunted through a heavy snore.

It gets lonely when Chris leaves for the day, you often find yourself nesting in his bed, sniffing his pillow, chewing on one of his shirts for comfort. You get scolded for all the pin-sized holes left by your needle-sharp teeth, but you continue to do it. Leon is mean. He bares his teeth when you try to play, kicks you away when you try to curl into him at night, all sorts of things. He’s no fun, it’s why you cling to Chris’ leg, whine and scratch at the door, kick your legs and throw back your head to wail.

The door clicks shut after a short tussle between your teeth and the rough fabric of Chris’ jeans. You sniffle and curl up against the front door. This is so cruel of him. Why can’t he just stay and play all day? You have so many games planned that Leon never wants to partake in. Tug of war, fetch, tummy rubs, kisses, cuddles. It’ll be so much fun! And yet there’s nobody to do it with.

You nose at his cheek as he sleeps in his usual spot. Just by the window, bathed in the warmth of the yolky sunlight, chest rising and falling in tandem with his breaths. His nose scrunches ever so often, his tail mostly still, other than the little flick to the side it makes when you approach him carefully. He smells good. That’s the one thing you like about Leon. His scent. It’s thick and rich and has your gut bubbling with an unfamiliar feeling. However, you welcome it, it feels good to you. Makes you squeeze your thighs together.

“Leon,” your slurring speech makes his brows furrow, his lips downturned, “play with me.”

A low sound rumbles deep in his chest when you continue to prod at him, is he seriously growling at you? This dog has no manners whatsoever. Seriously, who raised him? It can’t have been Chris. “Leon,” you drag it out this time, whining as you clamber on top of him.

Sniffing his neck, you lick at his Adam’s apple, watch as it bobs when he swallows. He opens his eyes, glares at you through light lashes, swats at your face.

“Play with me, Leon,” your bottom lip juts out, giving him those eyes that no one is able to say no to. None of the pet shop workers could, and Chris certainly can’t, so Leon should surely fall for it.

Leon’s eye twitches, his lip curls upwards, flashing those big teeth of his. It’s a warning that you take with a grain of salt. “Leon, ‘m wanna play,” you say again, wriggling on top of him, your hands planted on that firm chest of his.

You’re a pest. A mutt at best. A bother, a hindrance, all of the above. Leon doesn’t know many other words. He has no clue on whose idea this was, couldn’t have been Chris on his own, must’ve been his sister. Or the lady with the pixie cut, one who brings him treats whenever she visits. ‘Cause Chris knows him well enough. Knows that Leon likes to be alone lately. That a new puppy is just an extra mouth to feed for Chris. He doesn’t need company, doesn’t appreciate a hyperactive pup kneeing him in the gut every hour in an attempt to play some kiddy games.

Total cutie. He’ll give you that. Soft and sweet like all puppies are. Floppy ears, fluffy tail, cute teeth that don’t do much damage. Droopy tits, layer of pudge that puppies tend to have, full hips, and a pert ass.

Now, Leon would never hurt you on purpose. It’s why he sticks to threats he never follows through with. Snarling, baring his teeth, the regular shit. Would get any normal pup scampering away from him, but you’re spoiled rotten. You get what you want at the drop of a hat. He blames that on Chris. Old age has made him sappy. Old age has only made Leon feel like shit. His bones ache on the daily, can’t even get up to bark at the mailman anymore, his walks have been cut down to half an hour once a day, finds it harder to chew on those dental bones Chris tosses him. Stressful times. And the cherry on top of his shit sandwich is you. The little nuisance who insists on bothering him no matter what.

“Leon,” you start again, talking in that high-pitched tone, an excessive amount of spit garbling your speech, “play!”

Christ, you don’t know when to give up. He gives you a light shove, hopes it’s enough to deter you, of course that's just wishful thinking. You bounce back fast. Pressing your forehead to his, you muster up your nastiest glare. Cute. You’re cute when you do that. “Play with me.” Each word is punctuated by your fists smacking down on his chest.

You’re hovering over him, bare bottom on his clothed lap, tits pressed flush to his chest. Every piece of clothing Chris tried to put on you was deemed itchy. Snipping off the labels never helped, you seem to only like cashmere, expensive taste. So he gave up. Lets you wander around in your birthday suit.

“I don’t want to play,” Leon gets out through gritted teeth, expression contorting into one of restraint when you rock your hips back and forth absentmindedly. You’re being playful. Trying to get him up, trying to get any sort of reaction from him. But he can feel you. Leon’s been out of business for a long time. He was so damn sure his dick had malfunctioned a couple years back. No seed left to spare. This old dog was dried out.

This is all it took to get him fixed up? Puppy cunt? God. What a sicko. He sits up, hands on your hips to still you. Your brow quirks in confusion, blinking at him dumbly. Poor puppy. Don’t even know how wet you are. How your heady scent is coating the walls, making it unbearable for Leon to even breathe. He’s going fuckin’ crazy.

Leon pins you down, hair hanging in your face as he hovers over you. “Playing?” You ask him, face lighting up at the prospect of getting him to join in on your games.

Oh, he’ll teach you a new game, alright. It’s cute how you act all haughty, get Chris running around like a headless chicken ‘cause you’ve got so many demands, when really you’re just a stupid pup. Can’t even take care of yourself. Walkin’ around with this drippy pussy, an itch so deep in your core you can’t scratch it. Leon can’t lie, he’s cracked open an eye to see you trying your best to get rid of it. The ache in your lower belly. Rubbing yourself all over that pink teddy Chris brought back after a trip. Pressing its wet snout deep into your cunt to get rid of that strange tingle, but to no avail. Leon found it a little funny. He remembers being that way.

The sound you let out when he spreads your fat pussy is adorable. A whine that borders on a yelp. You’re frightened and confused for a moment, until his fingertips find your swollen clit, pushing back the hood, swiping over it again and again. Then you melt into a puddle of goop. That’s right. Must feel so damn good. You’ve got a chubby cunt, pillowy lips that hide your bud from his view, fluffy fur all over your tummy and crotch that’ll shed in a few months time and grow back in a darker shade. Cute little thing. He’s gonna eat you up.

He bullies his way between your thighs. Your scent is so much thicker now. Clinging to his skin in a way he’ll be unable to wash off. The first swipe of his tongue through your folds has your hips bucking up, pelvis mashing into his nose a little painfully. Leon makes sure to hold you down. You’re sugary sweet in his mouth, like he’s bitten into a ripe fruit. Your pussy sure is the sweetest peach he’s ever seen.

“Leon…” you grab at his ears, tug on them to combat the immense pleasure that tears through you. Ouch. He’s gotta get Chris to trim those claws of yours down.

His hand is splayed across your tummy, holding you down as he buries his face in your cunt. Leon nips at your inner thighs then goes back to making those obnoxious noises that any lady with dignity would be mortified by. But you’re a stupid puppy that can’t tell left from right. Eyes rolling back into your skull as he slurps away, lips smacking noisily, his tongue fucking in and out of that tight hole.

Your toes curl in your fluffy socks, hips arching up despite his hold on them, pussy gushing like a burst pipe all over him. “There you go, atta girl,” Leon hums, flicking your clit one last time for good measure. He smiles at the sound you let out, a pitchy yap of irritation.

More where that came from. You got him all worked up. That hasn’t happened in years. His cock is dripping, a wet patch forms in the front of his sweats that he’s quick to lower. Your mouth waters at the sight, smiling at him all dopey. It’s instinct, it seems, for you to be a greedy, cock-hungry little pup. Leon’s all for enthusiasm, so he’ll give it to you, reward the spoiled little pup.

He’s sheathed inside of you in no time. You’re made for this sorta thing. Made to be a breeding bitch if he wants to get crude about it. So he doesn’t worry too much ‘bout how you’re adjusting. Just moves his hips forward sharply, fat tip jabbing at your cervix, and watching as you tremble.

“Mmm, Leon,” your nails scratch down his chest, ears flattening against your head as you gaze up at him with starry eyes. This all it takes to calm you down? Some dick? Leon’s willing to give it whenever you get rowdy. Spit pools in your mouth, dribbles down your chin, and he’s quick to lick it up. You don’t know how to kiss him. But you try. It’s clumsy and open-mouthed, your tiny hands cupping his stubbly cheeks as you just kinda slobber all over the lower half of his face. That’s alright. Leon got the hang of it after about five years. He can teach you.

You’re sucking his dick in, pussy tight around him like a vice, his balls slap against your ass. It’s so good. Fuck. He should’ve done this sooner. Should’ve jumped you the moment Chris brought you home. What an idiot. He was basically gifting Leon a living fuckdoll and he missed out on it for a good month or so. You’re so easy, kicking your legs, and digging your nails into his biceps as you cream on his fat cock, leaving a ring of milky white around the base.

He’s old now, can’t help the way his breath is a little ragged as he nears his high, can’t last as long as he used to. Don’t matter anyway. ‘Cause you’re satisfied. He fills you up like a creampuff. There’s a little surprise on your face when his knot begins to swell, stretching your cute hole till it’s gaping.

“Fun.” You tell him with a sleepy smile. Leon’s tongue smooths over your fluffy ears, he remembers his fur being this soft. They’re wet with perspiration, but he likes the taste of you. He grooms you to his heart's content. It’s been a while since he’s done any of that. Makes him feel rather happy actually. Like a weight has lifted from his chest. You’re falling asleep so he manages to roll over, careful not to move too fast and tear you in half while he’s knotted. He has you on top of him, face in his neck as you snore lightly. The warmth is putting him to sleep too.

Leon only stirs when he hears the jingle of keys and a few voices from down the hall. You’re still knocked out and drooling. The front door opens, Chris is talking to someone he tries to pick up on through smell.

“Jesus, buddy, what’d you do to her?” Chris kneels down beside them, pats Leon’s head then yours.

“They do get along well, Chris,” it’s Rebecca, she’s smiling down at Leon, he can sniff out those expensive treats in the pocket of her winter coat. “Guess it’s just when you’re around.”

“No, no, I swear,” he holds his hands up in defence, “Leon’s always being a fuckin’ bastard when it comes to her.”

“You’re just being mean to him,” Rebecca says, cooing as she pinches Leon’s cheek, “hey, there, good boy.”

“Yeah,” Chris lets out an exasperated laugh, “sure, whatever, glad you like your new pal, buddy.”

#resident evil smut #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon s kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #my fics

[aliaology]

NOW THAT WE DONT TALK

summary: jack realizes yns music is quite literally a call out, directed towards him, and his brothers egg it on. pt.3

series masterlist

“i called my mom, she said ‘that it was for the best!’ remind myself the more i gave, you’d want me less”

jack could’ve hit his head against the counter ten more times and the song would still be ringing through his ears like a splinter that wouldn’t come out of his hand.

quinns hand made contact with the back of jacks head. “knock it off, jack.”

jack groaned, shoving his head into his arms. he groaned again, this time the noise being muffled due to the his arm. “she wrote a song about me, quinn.”

quinn rolled his eyes. “you don’t know its about you” he told.

jack scoffed, head shooting up. “she literally called me out. the parties, that stupid red sea reference, even the chorus. its so obviously me. and then her newer single that dropped thirty minutes ago?’

quinn shrugged, “could be about trevor”

jack rolled his eyes, “no way in hell, quinn. they never hooked up and her newer one is about some guy hooking up with her later on—“

“you sound obsessed, jack.” quinn told. jack looked down, embarrassed.

“whats jack obsessed with?” trevor asked, walking inside the kitchen. he stole a grape from jack and popped it into his mouth.

“y/n’s song” quinn spoke.

trevor scoffed, “why are you so hung up on it? its just music.” trevor shrugged.

“hes upset because hes getting called out.”

jack groaned again, head hitting the counter.

quinn rolled his eyes again. “you’ve gotta stop doing that dude. listen— she probably made these ages ago and just now got to releasing them.”

trevor popped another grape in his mouth. “not too sure about that, but i know she started writing them when you two broke up.”

luke slowly walks in. “seriously? you guys are torturing the man talking about his ex.”

jack nods, signifying lukes words to be true.. luke goes into the cupboard to grab a plate. “just ignore it.” he shrugged.

trevor snorted. jack sent the boy a glare, causing his laughter to abruptly stop. “how can i just ignore it? shes getting big and her music is everywhere already.” he asked.

quinn gave him a look. “then face it, jack. you can’t keep putting yourself in denial for something you caused.”

jack let out an exasperated groan for the 100th time. “gee, thanks quinn. way to make me feel better.”

“dont start giving him shit, jack.” luke spoke.

jack rolled his eyes. “whatever, im going to my room.” he got up and went for the stairs.

all three boys looked around at each other. silence fell through the room. suddenly, the sliding door opens. “whats going on?” cole asked.

“quinn picked his side of the argument.” trevor spoke, slightly glaring at quinn.

quinn gave one back, “dont act innocent, trevor. you screwed her over too. you and jack need to own up to it and stop cowering like little kids. you are both in your twenties for fucks sake. grow up.”

quinn went off to his room, leaving a wide eyed group of boys behind.

jacks brows furrowed as he listened to the song in his earbuds. his girlfriend napped next to him as he sat up on the bed. he hates to admit it, but he kinda deserved this.

“lets fast forward to three hundred awkward blind dates later. if shes got blue eyes, i will surmise that you’ll probably date her. you dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor, you search in every model—“

he stopped the song, taking his earbuds out and tossing them to the floor. he cheated, and now was dating the girl he cheated with. it was sad, really.

fiona, she was a woman who loved money. jack, was a man who loved attention. maybe that’s why they were together. but she wasn’t horrible like people said, right?

quietly, he went to tik tok and made a fake account, that way she knew he didn’t stalk her profile. i mean— she has no idea he even uses it still.

jack searched fionas name up, ultimately clicking on her profile. she had one video up. he clicked on it.

ick ick ick ick

she was lip syncing that really terrible audio that went ‘he chose me, he dont want you. he chose me’ and honestly, jack was appalled.

but before he could open the comments, she started to wake up. he swiped out of the app and deleted it, tossing his phone to the side afterwards.

“hey baby.” he smiled.

now that we dont talk!

tags! @honethatty12 (if u want tags, just ask <3)

#hockey #jack hughes #nhl imagine #new jersey #new jersey devils #nhl #nhl hockey #quinn hughes #jack hughes x reader #luke hughes #trevor zegras #cole caufield #mitch marner

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can you write headcannons for Smoke and Bihan with their s/o who's overworked themselves to the point where they hardly get sleep and barely eat?

Tomas Vrbada

He’s naturally going to be concerned about your well being the moment you rejected food and or sleep on multiple occasions across a period of time.

Tomas understood that your work was important that that you’ll have a fair few nights where you went without sleep or eating, but he quickly draws the line when he could start to visibly see the physical toll your overworking tendency has taken. You could barely stand on your own two fucking feet without constantly shifting your stance, as your eyes struggled to stay open and the dark begs beneath them got worse.

To Tomas no job was worth someone’s health and well-being and this job certainly wasn’t worth yours in the slightest. Your work be damned but he wasn’t about to watch you slowly deteriorate overtime, whilst he’s stuck stood at the sidelines, knowing deep down that he could stop this before it becomes too late to make change.

‘Why?’ You asked when Tomas asked you to take some time off from work, biting back a yawn, thinking you were slick. ‘I’m in the middle of something important for work and I have to cover for two long shifts later this week, seeing as my coworker had dropped them on a extremely short notice…again.’ You muttered the last bit under your breath but Tomas heard it as though you were speaking at a normal volume.

‘That!’ He pretty much exclaimed before composing himself and sat beside you at your desk, taking one of your hands in his whilst his thumb rubbed your skin soothingly. ‘Look I get that you love this job and want to build a career for yourself, which I’m all for but,’ he looks into your eyes where you saw just how worried he was, ‘I don’t want to stand by and watch you destroy yourself for a job that doesn’t commemorate all you’ve done for them.’

Tomas rested his forehead against yours, his heart melting when he saw how easily you learn into his warmth. ‘So please, take a break, sleep and for my sake please eat because I can’t bear to watch you destroy yourself for others who don’t value you like I do.’ He whispered against your lips. ‘I see the effort you put in but there has to come a time where you must walk away from situations that don’t benefit you.’ You sat on his words and allowed yourself to feel just how exhausted, how heavy with fatigue your body was that you could barely lift a finger.

Tomas was right, like he always was, maybe a break wouldn’t be so bad if it meant you could cuddle into him and indulge in his cooking as much as your stomach could handle.

Yeah, that sounds way better than working.

‘Okay.’ You said softly. ‘I’ll call in tomorrow.’

‘No need, I already told them that you’d be taking a break and to not be contacted until you feel like you’re ready to go back in.’ Tomas admitted and you couldn’t help but chuckle. ‘Unbelievable.’ You teased, only to yawn soon after before nestling yourself again him. ‘But I’m not complaining if it means I get to annoy you for the next few days.’

Tomas was the one the chuckle this time and kisses the top of your head. ‘Jokes on you, I love having you annoy me. Now get to sleep, baby. You’re more than deserving of it.’

Bi-Han

I see him as the kind of person to do the same but I could be wrong. He just strikes me as the type to not properly take care of himself, ya know? That’s just my opinion.

Bi-Han runs himself into the ground to become stronger for himself and for the future survival of the Lin Quei but the moment you begin to run yourself into the ground for other people at your place of work? He becomes the biggest hypocrite known to man.

So he wouldn’t think much of it at first but the more it happened, the more it became apparent to Bi-Han that something was wrong, very wrong and he needed to step in.

He finds your desire to make a career for yourself admirable but not like this, you don’t get respect from the people who’ll never understand the importance of a hard days work. In Bi-Han’s, everyone else should strive to earn your respect for the shit you put yourself through. Seeing as you weren’t given no thanks for your efforts, but instead countless more expectations to pick up your coworkers slack.

So I wouldn’t put it past Bi-Han to demand that you take a break, Grandmaster’s orders and all that.

‘Bi-Han I can’t just take a break! I’ve got important work to do-‘

‘Work that isn’t yours to complete.’ Bi-Han interrupted but he was right, you had finished your work in advance and now multiple people at work suddenly claimed that they had other obligations to do theirs, thus pulling them onto you instead with nothing other then fake smiles and even faker gratitude.

Curse your people pleasing tendencies!

You sighed, rubbing at your aching eyes that have only seemed to have gotten worse over the course of the past couple of days. ‘Then what do you suggest I do? Not finish them and let them bitch at me for their lack of responsibilities?’ You asked rhetorically, knowing that with Bi-Han, you’ll never win this argument as he always has something to back up his claims.

And besides you were too tired to argue against something that you both knew was true, it wasn’t your work to finish and so by that logic, no blame would befall you entirely. At least you hoped not.

‘It is due to their lack of responsibility that has caused you this fatigue, beloved. They’re more then deserving of the punishment.’ Bi-Han said. ‘You shouldn’t hold yourself responsible for other people’s decisions nor destroy yourself into looking reliable to your peers. You’re better than them, more resilient, dependable, hard working, determined but most of all; you take responsibility for any and all of your decisions applicably.’ Bi-Han sat back at his chair and gestured to the food before the both of you that had yet to be touched. ‘But now it’s time you rest and eat as much as you possibly can.’

#mk x reader #mk x you #mk imagine #mk imagines #mortal kombat 1 x reader #mortal kombat x you #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat imagine #mortal kombat imagines #tomas vrbada imagine #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada x you #smoke x reader #bi han imagines #bi han x you #bi han imagine #bi han x reader #sub zero x reader

[bitchimasnake-sss]

"remember that time when-" ft. r.zoro!

ft. zoro x fem!reader

set-up: you're pms-ing and this man is your greatest friend and even greater enemy rn (but you know you love him); drabbles to soothe your delusional soul <3

warnings: none! very wholesome lol

-contrary to popular belief, this man actually knows what periods are (wow, the bare minimum!!!) - when he was younger, he had listened to kuina go on about being a woman and its disadvantages and all and i believe he thought she was talking smack (i mean at the end of the day, "a swordsman is just a swordsman") - so when 15 year old zoro stumbled across a library, he decided to waltz in and just pick up a random biology book to understand female anatomy (it happened one after the other, completely unplanned) - when i tell you his little fifteen year old pea-sized brain was blown away (he learnt way more than he probably should have) - (please i beg u he can read, trust me 😭😭) - but just because he knows its a thing doesn't mean he understands it. so, yeah, he actually does know what it is, he simply does not care - in his logic, he had bled multiple times and still always bounces back so like what's the big deal??? "what's the big deal? it's just blood" he's sipping on a bottle of sake, gulping down its remnants in a single breath when you had complained about cramps one evening "excuse me?" nami is ready to strike him down "i said its just blood" - nami did, infact, then strike him down - post-dating zoro still thinks its no biggie "oi, yn" he's poking your shoulder, "what's wrong?" "cramps" you grumble against the pillow he laughs, "ah, they'll go away, get up and get going now. don't sulk around, you're my fav ketchup packet" "tf did you just say?" "ketchup packet?" - you refused to talk to this man for the next two days - at the end of the second day, he had to write a formal apology (with chopper's help) and speak it out loud before you started entertaining his bullshit again - see the thing is this mf is reserved, superhuman and has an absurdly high pain tolerance so it's hard for him to sympathize exactly - he once caught you crying cause you had seen a mama chimpanzee kiss it's baby chimpanzee and hug it tightly and he will forever bring it up "zoro you remember that time you got lost in dru-" "yn, remember that time, we were passing through a jungle and you saw some chimp-" he ended up getting a sucker punch to the face he deserved it. - but just because words aren't his thing doesn't mean he isn't looking out for you - everytime you're laying there on the bed, unmoving, he'd wordlessly crawl into the bed next to you. he's give you a gentle back massage or start rubbing soothing patterns onto your belly "you want something?" he mumbles slowly, hands skimming softly over your waist - this man would not and i repeat absolutely would not allow you to do any physically demanding work though "hey, let me handle that" "zoro, i am not a child!" "you sure look like one to me." he snickers, "remember the time you saw that mom chimpan-" "zORO FUCK OFF!!" - you need something from the top shelf? he got it. you are helping ussop carry gunpowder from the storage? go sit down, your boyfriend's got it - does it sometime frustrate you? yes - does the crew use this opportunity to make his lazy ass do a fuck lot of chores? also yes - he will still 100% make ketchup jokes (he's gross like that) - but name one man who'll treat you more gently than this bozo, i dare you - it might be something as lame as a period, doesn't mean he woudn't go to the end of the world to make you feel slightly better (even if he teases you about it endlessly)

sanji's part <3 luff's part <3

#one piece #one piece zoro #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro one piece #op zoro #zoro headcanons #one piece headcanons #monster trio #sanji x reader #luffy x reader

[ivys-garden]

Alright, I'm going to write my own thoughts down on the situation, sorry if this gets rambly

First of all, Shubble is so brave for speaking up, it's really hard for victims to speak up against there abusers in a public setting and she deserves all the respect in the world for it

That being said we do need to be mindful to give her space, this was a really traumatic thing for her and we all need to be mindful of that, give her room to breath.

On the same lines, don't go after other ccs for not ""releasing statements"", content creators aren't companies, there people. Don't get on at them for not publicly supporting Shubble, especially since there undoubtedly doing it in private, which is probably better than shoving it out there for millions of people to see. Let people support there friend in a way they and shubble are confortable with, if shubble wants them to say something or they think they need to say something themselves, they will say it.

It's like Pearl said, just because you don't see something happening publicly doesn't mean it isn't happening

Also, don't jump to call Tommy or Phil or Grian or anyone else enablers because they haven't said anything, they'll need time to process this too, it's hard to find out that your friend is a domestic abuser, let them process this in piece and don't try to cancel them over nothing like a fool. (People like Tommy will need time especially since Wilbur befriended them when they were young and by all accounts manipulated them too)

If anyone of these people have anything they feel they need to say they'll say it when there good and ready, good life tip folks:Don't Harass People. Especially if they have almost nothing to do with this (honestly Saw someone say they were going to go on to fucking RT about this despite him not knowing either person very well, the fuck)

I know why people do it, they want to make sure there favourite content creators aren't also bad, but they are people and they deserve respect, I can garentee you that almost no Qsmp or Hermitcraft or Other MCYT member who knew him stands with Wilbur

(Also if anyone brings Techno into this fuck right off let the man rest.)

Also, some brain dead morons are saying that people calling out wilbur are doing it for clout and that they should have done it sooner, but most of the abuse happened in private, and wilbur manipulated others, many wouldn't have realised anything was wrong and if they did its still better and more respectful to come forward after shubble since its HER story to tell.

(This attack also doesn't work anymore because we have things like tubbos stream, where he actively discourages his chat from treating him like a hero for speaking out, but yeah sure they all don't give a shit about shubble and just want to make themselves look better, fuck outta here)

Now, if your a former wilbur fan, let me make this super clear

DONT WATCH HIM AND DONT LISTEN TO HIS MUSIC

"BuT SePuRaTe ThE ArT FrOm ThE Arti-

Nah. That doesn't work here. You can separate a book or game or movie, you can't with a cc. Its there face, there voice, there personality. Find a different band, find a different CC to watch. There are other options, I know it sucks to find out someone you like did an awful thing,but that doesn't mean we should support those people for our sakes, especially when people were actively hurt by there actions. Trust me everyone, this will get better, things will go back to how they were before

Finally, this should go without saying, Fuck William Gold to the core of teh fucking earth. And any who still support him.

He is a raging egotistical manipulator and abuser. don't blame people for not seeing it sooner, no one can do that. What we can do though is blame people who still wholeheartedly support him and his actions.

He has not "changed" nor will he ever at the rate at which he's going. He's still a egomaniac who's more concerned with saving his image than actually apologising for his actions, even then an apology wouldn't fix all he's done,it would just be closer and a jumping off point to be better, but he can't even fucking do that.

If wilbur does reflect and grow, good on him, but if he doesn't then I can say with absolute certainty we wouldn't fucking miss him.

Fuck Wilbur. Support Shelbym

#wilbur soot #fuck wilbur soot #shubble #shelby grace #support shubble #believe victims #believe Shubble #im probably gonna disappear for the rest of the day #possibly tomorrow two #again shubble is so brave and im glad she spoke up #also sorry for the swearing im just mad #tw: abuse #tw: swearing

[eddies-puppet]

You Gave Me Our World

(Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: Just a little Valentines blurb to try and get myself writing again 💜

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: Fluff with a decent serving of angst. No REAL smut but allusions to it. Mentions of Eddie’s mom, Eddie being insecure.

Notes: Sorry if this sucks, just trying to get rid of my writers block!

———————————————————

Heaven. That’s where I am right now.

Wrapped in my boyfriend’s arms, bodies tangled between the bedsheets as the rain pattered lightly on the roof of the trailer where Eddie and I live together. My head lay on his chest, his heart beating hard against my ear as he came back down to earth after the throes of ecstacy we’d both been in a few moments ago. The arm that wasn’t around me was bent up beneath his head.

“You still with me baby?” Eddie asked softly, his fingertips dragging lightly against the soft skin of my back.

“Mmm, still here,” I breathed, my voice barely more than a whisper as I trailed my nails gently across his tummy, smiling as I felt his muscles react involuntarily. It was his most ticklish spot.

Sighing deeply, I pressed a soft kiss to his tattooed chest. “Can we stay here forever?”

“That sounds really good,” he chuckled.

I closed my eyes, the sound of his heart beating steadily soothing me, sleep trying (unsuccessfully) to overwhelm me.

Life had gotten real busy lately, meaning that I valued these moments so much more. The moments of quiet, when it’s just the two if us, the noise of the outside world just fading away.

Just us. Me and him. All I needed in life.

When Eddie and I had first got together, everyone told me to run. That trouble followed him, that he wasn’t the ‘type of boy’ I should be with.

But I knew the other side of Eddie Munson. Kind, goofy, made me laugh until I cried. That was my Eddie.

His hand had worked its way up my back, now gently running his fingers through my hair. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. I’m sure there were probably hearts in my eyes if you looked hard enough!

He was miles away though, deep in thought.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked him. His eyes dropped to mine, the sadness in his eyes evident despite the darkness of the room. “Eds, what’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing baby, I’m good,” he smiled unconvincingly.

“Don’t try and bullshit me Munson, I know you better than that.” He sighed heavily, his eyes going back to the ceiling.

“I don’t know, I just…” he hesitated. “You deserve better.”

“Better than what?” I asked him, my voice unable to hide the concern.

“This,” he said frustratedly, the hand that had been behind his head now gesturing wildly around the room. “It’s Valentine’s Day for fuck sake! You should be at that new expensive hotel in the city, or Enzos at the very least. Instead you’re eating takeout pizza under two blankets ‘cos we can’t afford extra on the utilities!”

“Hey, the sex warmed me up at least,” I giggled, regretting it instantly when his sad eyes met mine once again. “I’m sorry, I’m kidding,” I whispered, my hand moving to his face. “Eddie, I don’t give a shit about expensive dinners, or how many blankets we have to use,” I promised him, his breath shaking as he exhaled, my thumb gently stroked his cheek.

“Baby, this isn’t the life you were born in to. You should be living in a big house, with a white picket fence and a swing on the porch.”

“You’re right, it’s not the life I was born in to. But it’s the life I chose,” I assured him. “Eds, I know you sometimes find it hard to believe, but I love you. The rest of it doesn’t matter. It’s all just background noise.”

I propped myself up on my elbow, looking down at him, his dark eyes sparkling, his dark curls fanning out across the pillow. “Look at you,” I whispered. “Beautiful.”

In spite of himself, he smiled back at me.

I leant down, my fingers burying themselves in his hair as our lips met. I kissed him gently, his breath tickling my cheek as he slowly exhaled through his nose.

“I love you. So much,” I told him again, resting my forehead against his.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “I just wish I could give you the world.”

“You’ve given me our world, that’s all I need,” I smiled before laying back down.

As I snuggled back in to his chest, I reached for his hand, which was laying on his stomach. As my fingers traced the veins on his hand, the cold metal of his ring caught me off guard.

You would think with them being worn all the time they would warm up. Perhaps it was just the stark contrast from his hot skin.

Eddie Munson was always warm, even in the middle of a snowstorm. He was great to be around in the winter, stifling in the heat of the Indiana summer.

My fingers played absentmindedly with the cold metal, the large black stone smooth to touch as I lost myself in his warmth, the gentle rise and fall of his chest, the gentleness of his other hand soothing up and down my back.

He rolled over to face me, his arms encircling me, pulling me flush against him.

“There is one thing that I can give you,” he said softly. “That I want to give you.”

I could feel his hands fidgeting behind my back, not unusual for Eddie, but when he bought his hand between us and opened his hand, he held his ring. The same one I had been playing with a few moments ago. The one that had belonged to his mother before she died.

I shook my head as he held it out to me.

“I can’t take that,” I whispered.

“I want you to have it,” he said insistently.

I hesitated, freezing in place, my head empty. I obviously paused for too long.

“She’d have loved you, you know,” he smiled, his eyes glistening suddenly with unshed tears.

“Baby, I cannot take this. It means too much to you.”

“So do you,” he smiled. “Look, are you planning on running out on me?” He beamed, the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks making you smile again.

“No, I’m afraid you’re stuck with me,” I grinned, biting at the inside of my cheek.

“Then you’re not taking it. Look at it as a loaner until Corroded Coffin hit the big time and I can afford to replace it with a diamond the size of Hawkins,” he laughed as he took my hand and gently slid the ring on to my finger.

“See?” He grinned as he looked at my hand. “Fits you better than me anyway.” He lifted my hand to his lips, placing a gentle kiss where his ring now sat.

“I guess you’re right, it is a perfect fit.”

“I have something else that fits you perfectly,” he grinned cheekily, rolling his hips against me.

“Really?” I laughed. “Already?” He nodded eagerly, raising his eyebrows suggestively before burying his face in my neck.

“Not for fun obviously, I’m just getting cold,” he said between kisses, his lips dragging against my skin. “Unless you want me to just go get an extra blanket?” He added quietly, just before his teeth nipped at the spot below my ear that he knew always drove me crazy.

“Don’t you fucking dare go anywhere,” I giggled, throwing my leg over his hip and pulling him on top of me. No way was I letting him go tonight.

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #love of my life #happy valentine's day #valentine’s day

[chuunai]

hello !! idk if you’ll see this but for the 100 followers celebration, may i please request pm! chuuya + (17) wondering if they deserve you or not + (6) “just look at you, then look at me” ?? maybe it’s like he gets doubts and worries, especially when he sees reader getting interactions with others and considering his job and what it means for the reader? but… um, could it end with fluff, please? also, could it be a fanfic, pretty please? i do apologize if this is way too specific !!

once again, congratulations on 100 followers, you totally deserve it, your writing is absolute heaven !! have a nice day/night/afternoon !!

I love specific people and things no worries and thank you I adore your fanfics too!

✧˚ · . right by you - chuya nakahara

he doesn’t deserve you. not when you’re so good.

summary ⋆ ★ comfort, fluff, unrequited love (supposedly), SFW → minor (barely any) angst with happy ending.

Chuuya Nakahara didn’t deserve you.

Nor the air you breathed, or the space you shared with him at the Port Mafia. He didn’t deserve any of that.

Chuuya had always considered himself an okay person. He killed people, but it was for the sake of Yokohama’s safety—subsequently, your safety. In the eyes of others, he’s a piece of shit through and through (that, he doesn’t deny). But in your eyes, he’s just a guy trying to do what’s best for his subordinates and city. In your eyes, he’s just Chuuya.

It’s a bit odd, honestly.

Having feelings for his subordinate.

It fucked with his mind too.

The Port Mafia was no place for love. Look at Higuchi pining over Akutagawa like a lovesick high schooler—that’s clearly going nowhere. So it’s not like he’d have a chance with you, anyway. Not when you’re so good, too. So, so much better than he ever could be.

Someone like you—who regularly brought cookies to the Mafia’s HQ to ‘boost morale’—didn’t deserve a fake human like him. One who was a vessel of a god. The fake Chuuya Nakahara. No matter how much evidence said he was the real one, he couldn’t believe it. Just look at him, then at you. No, you’re the real human.

And he’s a fucked up mess that also happens to be a murderer.

Great boyfriend material.

In the middle of his self-deprecation, a knock hit his door. Probably Tachihara, that smug bastard. Not like he was doing anything, anyways. Taking one last look at the ceiling of his office, Chuuya called out.

“Yeah yeah, door’s open. Come in.”

Instead of that redhead, it was you.

Shit.

He was sure your shift was over. It was what, eight at night now? You got off right around now, so you had no reason to see him. Yet his cheeks flushed up anyway as a pointless attempt at faking a cough was done to hide the obvious reddening. Mentally cursing himself for for being so childlike with his feelings, he sat up in his chair, pretending to write on a document.

“Need something?”

He’d do it. Just ask. Wait—that’s pathetic.

“No, but the others and I are going out to drink. You wanna come?”

Chuuya perked up immediately, already imagining the taste of red wine sliding down his throat and warming up his body. He loved drinking. Helped to get his mind off his problems—namely, you. His fingers drummed on the wood of his desk, a small hum drifting from his lips as he thought of the potential consequences.

He could get drunk and act stupid in front of you. Or accidentally harass you. Or end up blabbering his head off about Dazai again. Or-

Snapping out of his daze when he saw you awkwardly standing there waiting for his response, he shrugged.

Fuck it. It’d be fine.

“Sure. Usual bar?”

You nodded, fiddling with the hem of your sleeves. You always did that when you were nervous. A small wave of worry washed over him. Did he make you nervous? Shitshitshit. What’d he do?

Standing up, he quickly organized some papers—recent missions and current objectives—into piles on his desk, palms slightly sweaty from the fact that you were watching him. Chuuya didn’t like how he always was a wreck around you. It wasn’t gonna make him good in your eyes, is what he thought. Lord, he wished he knew what would make you like—no, love—him back.

“Let’s go now then, yeah? We can get a head start on the others. Don’t want Tachihara to brag his ass off about being first again.”

He offered a small attempt at a smile, cheeks rosy and all. It was nothing compared to when you smiled, though. Like an angel. His angel. Holy fuck. He’s really gotta stop daydreaming about you when you were in the damn room with him.

Leading the way, he carefully kept to your side throughout the long hallways of the Port Mafia’s HQ, occasionally stopping to discuss a quick matter or two with one of his assistants. When someone bumped into you, he hesitantly placed a hand on your back to keep you steady and remind the other grunts that you were under his protection.

Although that still didn’t stop the dreamy stares at you.

Or the jealousy that Chuuya felt after. He knew that he wasn’t good enough for you, and he respected that. But these guys didn’t. No, they thought they somehow had a chance with you—a living, breathing angel—and that irked him. Shouldn’t they be grateful for just getting to see you? He was, anyway. He’d take all that he could get.

Including this short walk.

Lasting for only three minutes or so, soon you two were out in the chilly night air of the parking lot. You shivered a bit, cheeks and nose turning red and numb from the coldness. Chuuya couldn’t help himself as he nudged you closer to his side to be a bit more warm. Kouyou always said he was a human oven, after all. Walking to his car—nothing too fancy, yet not quite cheap—, like a true gentleman, he opened the door for you to sit in the front passenger seat next to him.

He always drove you to the bars. You always drove him back.

A fair deal, in his opinion.

Starting up the engine, Chuuya sneaked a glance at your profile. Nose tinted with red, cheeks puffy from the cold and eyes staring back at him. Wait. Huh? His face went red. Again. Now the both of you were flushed, and not from the cold.

“Want my coat? You uh, seem pretty cold.”

Please don’t say no, please don’t say no, please don’t-

“Yeah. Please.”

Chuuya shrugged off his black coat, carefully laying it on top of you like a cozy blanket. His hands brushed against your arms as he snugly placed it on you. You looked good under it.

“We’ll warm up with the alcohol later. I know you don’t like whiskey, but a shot should warm you up.”

You made a face, sticking out your tongue and giggling slightly while he started up the car, slowly backing out of his parking spot.

“That’s shit’s nasty, Chuuya-kun. Just like your wine.”

If Chuuya had one complaint about you, it’s that you didn’t like red wine.

“It’s an acquired taste, you brat. If you’d try it out more often, you’d like it.”

His heart warmed up at the sight of your smile, making sure to keep up the banter between you two as he drove to the nearby bar. His fingers twitched, aching to hold yours. To warm you up, too. He didn’t want his coat hugging you. Chuuya wanted to hug you. Was that too creepy? Hopefully not.

Traffic was a shitshow. Both of you agreed that more and more idiots were on the road lately, cursing at the car in-front of you. Thankfully, it didn’t last too long. Ten minutes later and he was pulling into the familiar parking lot of the same bar you two had been going to for a while with the others. A nice small corner bar, retro and one that didn’t mind their eccentricity.

Chuuya didn’t take back his coat from you as you wore it inside.

Ushering you into their usual corner booth, he ordered you two a small drink to start—just a vodka soda. Nothing too much. Although it got him slightly buzzed, a warm feeling calming him down a bit as he sipped. It felt nice. Just the two of you. No rowdy Tachihara. No Higuchi simping over Akutagawa or Gin staring at everyone.

Just you two.

“So uh, when are the others getting here?”

How much time did he have with you alone is what he really meant.

“Oh- let me check real quick. Sorry.”

Chuuya watched as you reached into your purse, grabbing your phone and probably texting Higuchi. A small frown came upon your lips after a minute. Nuh-uh. He’d kill whatever made you frown.

“Eh? Why’re you frowning? We’re drinking, cheer up a bit.”

You looked back at him sheepishly, scooting a bit closer to him.

“Well, apparently Akutagawa got sick so now Gin is taking care of him and Higuchi is worrying so she doesn’t want to come and Tachihara suddenly got busy out of nowhere.”

Yes! Yes yes yes! Just him and you now.

“Sucks. But the two of us are here, right?”

Chuuya was currently praying to God that you’d stay.

“Guess so. Should we order stronger drinks, then? I don’t wanna be sober.”

He now believed in God.

And so you drank. Him with his signature red wine, and you with your preferred drink of choice. Chuuya obviously got drunk first, with the redhead showing signs of intoxication while he got clingy with you. You were equally drunk, and didn’t care that much. So he clung into your arm like a baby while you braided his hair poorly.

“God, your hair is so pretty, Chuuya.”

Ooohh. You called his hair pretty.

“Is the rest of me not pretty?”

He pouted, tugging at your sleeve and resting his head on your shoulder.

“Huh? I didn’t say that. You’re really pretty. Super pretty.”

Wow. He’s super pretty now.

“Well, I think you’re pretty too.”

His face flushed, suddenly realizing what he said as he buried his face in your shoulder, squeezing your arm for reassurance. Why did he say that? Why did he say that!? Stupid alcohol. It made him talk so dumb like this. He didn’t talk like this when the others were around to keep him in check. Shit. Maybe he should’ve have drunk so much.

“You do?”

You looked down at him, fingers momentarily stopping their crafting of his braid.

“Mhm.”

A small shy mumble was all he managed to utter.

“You’re so cute! This is why I like you, y’know.”

His head snapped up immediately. No way in fucking hell were you gonna leave him on a bombshell like that.

“You like me?”

For the second time today, Chuuya was praying to God that you liked him romantically.

“Yep.”

Not helpful.

“But…like a friend? Or uh- romantically.”

Well. He said it. Fuck him. No way you’d like him back.

“Uh.”

Some silence from you.

“I’m not saying.”

Oh yes, yes you fucking were gonna say.

“C’mon, tell me. Pleaseeee?”

Puppy eyed Chuuya. He used this to get out of trouble with Kouyou. Surely, it’d work on you?

“Fine. You’re a bitch, but jesus, I like you romantically.”

Chuuya Nakahara was sure he was at Heaven now. No way you—his angel—just confessed to him. Albeit drunk. But still a confession. One of his hands slowly crept onto yours, lacing your fingers together. He was in bliss, basking in your warmth and ignoring the other rowdy patrons of the bar. You just confessed to him. You like him back.

You like him back.

When he finally got back to his senses and opened his mouth to say that he liked—no, loved—you too, his ears picked up on a small snore from you. Did you seriously fall asleep? You had done it before during previous get togethers, but now? A small smile crept onto his face. Whatever. It didn’t matter. He’d tell you tomorrow.

He’d confess back, take you on a date and prove his worth to you.

Because maybe Chuuya Nakahara could learn how to love like you.

Just maybe.

taglist: @twst-om-lover, @sinfulthoughtsposts

#bungou gay dogs #bungou stray dogs #aspiring writer #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #chuunai #fanfic #fem reader #bungo stray dogs chuuya #chuuya #chuuya supremacy #chuuyabsd #chuuya headcanons #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bungou stray dogs chuuya #writing event #kinda shitty #ngl I hate this but it’s Chuuya

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

AITA for being harsh to one of my group mates?

(📳🎓)

For context, this is in uni, and most of us are between 18 to 20 years old. We've been assigned a group project we need to do basically, and while there were originally 8 of us, for the longest time there were only 5 of us. The other 3 were unavailable for a variety of reasons - until within the past two or so weeks, one of them (I'll call A) started showing up to some lectures. Not all of them mind you, but a couple of them.

Initially I was a bit 'ehhh' on A, simply because he hasn't shown up until now. However the rest of the group wanted to give him a chance, and for the sake of fairness we did. And for the most part, imo, he's been unreliable. He showed up recently to one of our more important sessions (the session essentially being producing a bulk of the work we'd need to do) and was genuinely helpful, but for me the pressing issues I have with him are that

1. He's inconsistent. He only got to that session because we prodded him about it on WhatsApp, and I'm sure that if we didn't he wouldn't have turned up at all

2. He rarely if at all communicates with us. He responded to one person (who I'll call D) twice and another person once. While in person he's a lot better, getting in touch with him otherwise is essentially impossible.

The kicker recently is that in person, we agreed to have a one on one meeting where we'd talk about what we've done so far and what he'll be able to help out with in the future. I arrived to the location, and waited... He never showed up. I texted him multiple times to let him know that if he's late he needs to tell me, and as I'm writing this he still hasn't even bothered to read the messages at all. I let D, who's our group leader, know and they believe he shouldnt share our grade. I agree.

However, the reason why I feel I'm the AH is because he says he's been having some mental health issues. He didn't specify what, just that it's 'been hard getting out of bed' and the like. He may have mentioned depression, but I also can't 100% confirm it. The rest of the group believe we should give him another chance, saying that depression is hard and that we can't expect him to be fine 100% now, and they've even said that D themself is inconsistent when it comes to showing up to meetings, which is true. They say that they themselves have had similar struggles in the past and they sympathise.

While that's fair, I'm also of the opinion that well... He hasn't even done a lot of work. Like at all. He helped during that session but has otherwise done fuck all. From a practical standpoint he doesn't deserve a grade simply because he's done essentially nothing since we started, even if it is because he's been having a bad time. However, he also hasn't had much time to prove himself that he is capable of helping, so it could be that I'm just pre-judging him out of cynicism.

It might also not help that I'm a very practical person when it comes to mental health - I deal with my own shit, tend not to burden anyone with my issues if I can, and just get on with things. My anxieties were rough before uni, and while it's gotten better in some areas it's gotten worse in others. Yknow, stuff like money, if I'm even eating properly, general life, personal circumstances, all that shit. However it might be that A is the type to get buried in his feelings, and my more practical viewpoint is me being way too harsh on someone who is struggling.

While I understand where my group is coming from, I still don't think A should share our grade. Imo he hasnt shown much initiative if at all for the group, and even if he was struggling the fact that he just generally hasn't done anything means I don't think he should share our grade. AITA?

TLDR: Guy in a group has done not much in terms of participating in our group project, because he's been struggling mentally up until now. Group is mostly sympathetic and wants to give him another chance, while I think otherwise, believing he's had enough chances already.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[elysianymph]

my unpopular marauders opinions

(i'm scared 😟)

'nothing is ooc bc we know nothing about the characters!' might work with the girl characters and the lesser known ones but it does not fly when we are talking about the marauders and other characters like barty, regulus, etc. we have so much (biased) information on these characters and you can't erase all they were in the original text bc you want to make an oc in the marauders era.

sirius is literally one of the most interesting characters in the fandom and i hate how he's been dumbed down to regulus' brother or remus' boyfriend depending on who's pov we're reading. what happened to cool sirius and why has he become a loser who follows remus around like a lapdog??? what happened to casanova sirius who all the girls were into but he never paid them any attention??? what happened to the sirius who risked his life and ran away bc he refused to become like his parents??? and why has been reduced to a whimpering mess who cries bc remus is mean to him (ooc on remus' part too). you're lying to yourselves if you think sirius wouldn't start throwing hands the moment remus insulted him. i need to write an entire separate post for this bc it makes me viscerally angry when i see him portrayed like this. who decided that giving remus all of sirius' main character traits was a good idea??

similarly, remus has become so boring. he has literally become the toxic love interest in a werewolf story please STOP IT. i'm tired of remus constantly yelling and calling other people (specifically sirius) worthless or hitting their deepest insecurities but it's all justified bc it's the full moon and he's angry and emotional. it's overdone, it's toxic, it's boring and i don't want to see it. my remus will forever be a an old sweater-wearing, bookworm people pleaser who wanted nothing more than to have friends who loved him despite who he was and he treasured them so dearly when he found them. he carried extra pens and quills in his bag because he knew peter always forgot his, he always came to james' games to cheer him on despite not being interested in quidditch. idk what you people find appealing about remus thinking sirius is a nuisance or annoying when they're dating but it's not <3 he spent years staring at sirius' back during class and being satisfied to just be in his presence because he didn't think he deserved any of it. how could he wish for more when sirius was wrapping an arm around him and whispering the plan to their newest prank? you want me to think the shy boy who looked away anytime sirius made eye contact with him was a smooth talker who found sirius annoying?? at this point he's an oc with remus' face be fr

sirius >>> regulus any day. cry about it

speaking of regulus i hate how the fandom has characterized him. you've created sirius 2.0 with his storyline (while simultaneously slandering sirius' character) and then made him an emo version of remus' already awful characterization. he's not an uwu victim who begged his brother to come with him, he was a blood supremacist who was probably overjoyed that the stain on his family tree was gone. 'i hate you but i love you' describes the black brothers perfectly but that 'but' doesn't undo the hatred they feel for each other. sibling relationship are so complex, especially in a family like theirs, and their relationship would've been turbulent. by the time sirius had ran away i fully believe the hate they felt for each other was bigger than any love they had left. regulus who is a manipulative asshole, regulus who is actively trying to get rid of sirius so he can get to be the heir he thinks he deserves to be will always be more interesting than the way regulus is written in most jegulus fics.

also james would've literally bullied regulus. it's the truth

also, let james be an asshole! let james be a bully! he was a teenager for fucks sake let him be mean and cruel! give him an ego the size of the sun and nothing else to 'make it better'. he was an only child raised in a pureblood family, i would be more surprised if he didn't turn out to be a narcissistic teenager. he was talented and spoiled and wanted everyone to agree with him bc he had never been brought down to earth from his high horse. let him be messy. i don't understand why the fandom has such a problem with complex characters

this fandom hates on severus too much while babygirl-ifying characters who have done the same or worse than him. was he an asshole? yes. was he also a really interesting character that people choose to ignore or push aside bc he's not conventionally attractive? yes. you've idolized barty and evan and regulus, characters who are also canonically death eaters and have done unforgivable things, yet you continue to hate on severus because?? i don't like him either but commenting 'stan bambi' on every single severus edit is a bit too much effort for a character you claim to not give a shit about :/

remus would NOT be friends with barty, evan and regulus. he's a loser and those three would bully him to death

'i wish people would make more marauders era girls content-' 💥💥💥make it yourself. there is PLENTLY of girls content all you need to do is look in the tags (but oh wait you can't look in the tags bc no one in this fandom has apparently heard of fandom etiquette and they're all tagging every ship under the sun on a post about jegulus. trust me, if i wanted to see jegulus content i would go in their tag. now stop tagging it with dorlene and marylily)

idk if this one is that unpopular cause i've seen it around quite a bit recently but the lupins are literally one of the best families and they are so underrated. the relationships between hope and remus and lyall and remus and the effects that remus' lycanthropy has on them is always on my mind fr. you don't need to give every character mommy/daddy issues to make them interesting or complex ❤️

the prank is SO overdone. like every post prank fic is the same shit and i'm tired. sirius felt no remorse, remus called it an unfunny prank, get over it. it can be interesting to explore (especially sirius' thoughts during it and how remus deals with the consequences of one of his best friends betraying him) but so many times the prank has just been used to justify writing remus being so so incredibly shitty to sirius and poking at his every insecurity that at this point i don't even want to read about it anymore. remus had every right to be mad but once again you're ignoring the canon characterization just to make him seem like a badass when he would absolutely not confront sirius about it.

'[girl character] is just the female version of [male character]' literally makes me want to bite someone's head off. how is it that you have time to create whole new personalities for james, sirius, remus and every other male character under the sun but lily, mary, dorcas or marlene don't get that treatment?? slapping sirius' old characterization on marlene or remus' old characterization on lily doesn't make for compelling characters but none of you care enough to actually flesh these women out and make them something more. it's no wonder people complain about them being boring when the main fanon is just slapping on a guy's personality onto them but make it misogynistic. if you can give regulus an entire backstory and justify his every action then you can give the girls some interesting character traits in your works be fr.

rudy solos grant chapman 🫶🏻

#i was in a mood when i wrote this #i'm just tired #HEAVY on the remus and sirius stuff bc i can't stand it at this point #marauders #mwpp #marauders era #moony wormtail padfoot and prongs #the valkyries #the marauders #the pantheon

[somebluemelodies]

DAY FOUR OF SPIDERBIT THEME WEEK STARTED BY @anonymous-dentist! :D SELECTED THEME: KISS took a new approach with this one bc i really really wanted to write an absolute soft fluffy mess and i present to you: a compilation of different types of kisses :> this is kinda long sorry guys-

Chaos. Pure, unadulterated chaos.

Everything is a hazy blur. Everything. Waking up and finding Felps. Breaking Felps out and reuniting. Stumbling into the room overlooking the massive dungeon and finally being able to send coordinates, desperately hoping that someone, anyone, will see them and come, despite everything he’s done.

Did they all get their letters?

(Did Roier get his letter? The amaranths?)

If they won’t come for him specifically, maybe they’ll come for Felps’s sake.

And then, after God only knows how long, people show up. A lot of people show up.

And they’re rescued. They’re freed. It’s a mess of voices shouting, swords clashing, armor clanging, and heat. Cellbit barely has the energy to hurry, mentally and physically exhausted, but he’s being ushered along and he has no choice.

(People care. They came. They care.)

The first moment of clarity, oddly enough, comes when he’s standing on the roof, and he’s just indirectly proposed to Roier— oh, God, is this actually—

And Roier accepts.

(Were they even dating in the first place?)

(Does it matter? Anything could happen at any moment. The last few days are an example of just that.)

Well, nothing about them is normal, anyway.

There are arms thrown around his neck, drawing him back from his mind. Roier is laughing, and warmth blooms in Cellbit’s heart as he laughs alongside him, arms wrapping right around his waist as they rock in place.

(Incredulousness. Surprise. Happiness. Love.)

When the laughter finally calms, and they still, Roier pauses a moment before moving back one of his arms, tentatively cupping Cellbit’s face.

The investigator’s eyes widen slightly, heat threatening to creep up his neck, and it takes all of his willpower to try not to lean into the touch.

(He fails, borderline miserably. But the fondness in Roier’s eyes runs so deep he isn’t sure he can be embarrassed.)

Roier presses a kiss to his cheek, then, and his stunlock must be visible, because Roier laughs again, dark eyes crinkling and God, he just looks so happy and perfect and Cellbit thinks he might melt and die right here and now—

His cheeks flush and the spider-hybrid only laughs more, burying his head into Cellbit’s neck. Cellbit breathes in, but a smile splits his face once more and they’re both laughing like idiots again, holding each other tighter all the while.

(Love. Love. Love.)

…

“Don’t fuck this up” repeats like a mantra in Cellbit’s head; over and over and over again. He feels impossibly lucky Roier even agreed to let this date happen, nearly physically wincing at the recollection of all the events that had transpired prior to this point.

(Roier deserves better than him, really.)

(But if he’s who Roier wants after all, then he’ll be damned if he doesn’t try to be at least half the man the spider-hybrid deserves.)

All things considered, though, the date is going really well. Although the investigator is still kicking his own ass at his carelessness, things are finally returning to a semblance of normalcy, and for that he’s eternally grateful.

Roier spends more time talking between the two of them, but it’s perfectly fine by Cellbit; he’s always been more of a listener, anyway.

(It’s not like he’s too distracted by the man himself to make any extended commentary. No, not at all!)

Roier is fun to watch, though. Captivating. He’s expressive, charming, practically everything adoring under the sun. And he’s, well, beautiful.

Really beautiful.

(Handsome? Pretty? Beautiful?)

(Does it really matter?)

The lighting in the taqueria isn’t spectacular by any means. But if anything, the slight dimness only makes the spider-hybrid more distracting pretty. His eyes twinkle with fun and mischief, and his smile could light up the whole taqueria itself, Cellbit thinks fondly. And—

“Cellbo?”

Cellbit blinks, snapping back to reality. “Yeah?”

Roier is a rather cute mix of puzzled and amused, quirking an eyebrow. “¿Estás bien? You spaced out or something; you okay?”

“Oh, uh, yeah, yeah. Sí. Sorry.” The investigator rubs the back of his neck.

“No worries, man,” Roier dismisses. And much to Cellbit’s admiration, he backs up a bit in his story and continues right on.

At some point, Cellbit’s eyes drop to their hands on the table, a short distance apart from each other. And a thought starts to creep into his head.

(The mantra repeats itself. Don’t fuck this up.)

Gingerly, Cellbit takes Roier’s hand in his, thumb brushing along his knuckles. The spider-hybrid doesn’t make any moves to pull his hand back, and, to the other’s surprise, his momentary surprised pause doesn’t even disrupt the flow of his story.

They stay like that for a short while, and Cellbit’s adoring thoughts amble back to him as he listens to Roier.

(Him. Him. Him.)

Before the investigator even fully processes what he’s doing, he’s lifting the spider-hybrid’s hand and pressing a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

This makes Roier actively pause, and Cellbit’s heart drops for a moment, eyes widening.

(Don’t fuck this up, don’t fuck this up—)

(You’ve fucked this up—)

Roier starts smiling, cheeks tinted the faintest of reds. Nothing is said, but he lowers their hands to the table, lacing their fingers together.

And they stay like that until Leo reappears with their food.

…

Both of them have barely been able to stop smiling since the ceremony began, when Cellbit stepped onto the aisle and their eyes locked.

Everything is a bit of a haze. But a pleasant one. Hands clasped, the world seems to get smaller and smaller until it’s only them at the altar, Father Peta’s voice a hum of white noise in the background.

It’s something that’s felt like a long time coming, oddly enough. Thinking back, the pieces seem to fall into place, like a puzzle.

For Cellbit, it started that very moment he and the other Brazilians were rescued off the boat. When the first face he saw on the other side of the glass, beaming and laughing and shouting, was already etching into his mind. Unforgettable.

(That was it.)

He didn’t know, then. He didn’t understand the little piece nagging him at the back of his mind. How could he know, when the future was so uncertain? An island full of mysteries, that was a mystery within itself. His priorities were elsewhere.

For a while, at least.

It’s a little blurrier for Roier, when things, feelings, started to grow more apparent. Their adventures got longer, more frequent. Seeking each other out with no excuse, supporting each other. The flirting stopped being just for the sake of flirting, of having a little fun. Cellbit made him nervous in a way not quite foreign to him, but a way that made him try to deny it. Try to hide from it.

And then Cellbit disappeared, leaving Roier to stare at a letter, a painfully familiar photo, and a bundle of red flowers. Amaranths.

(Everlasting love.)

And it became crystal clear then. He knew. Even if it was too late. God, had he hoped it wasn’t.

(He couldn’t take another loss.)

(But he wouldn’t.)

So, in a strange cacophony of events, for better or for worse, here they are. Admiring each other, exchanging vows that make both of their eyes glassy. They don’t need to talk about the interruption.

It’s all led up to this, one way or another.

“I now pronounce you married!”

Hasn’t it?

The ‘kiss cue’ has barely left Father Peta’s mouth before Roier is grabbing Cellbit’s face - quick but gentle, never harsh - and pulling him into a kiss he’s gotten rather impatient for.

(They were both getting rather impatient, but nobody needs to know that.)

It’s not much of a kiss at first, though, the way their noses bump first and they can’t stop smiling and fighting laughter against each other’s lips. But as it sinks in, that they’re married, they’re husbands, Cellbit holds Roier tighter, pulling him closer still. Their eyes flutter shut, lips pressing together in a way that feels nothing short of home.

(They’re finally right where they needed to be.)

…

“Espera- I want to try something.”

Cellbit shoots his husband a questioning look. Roier only grins.

The investigator folds his arms, watching as the spider-hybrid flicks his wrist up towards the ceiling, a thin string of web shooting out.

With an athletic grace that never ceases to impress Cellbit, Roier jumps and flips himself upside-down, suspended by the web.

They’re eye-level now— well, if Cellbit looks straight ahead then he’s looking at Roier’s chin, and vice versa, but his eyes lower to his love’s own. “Okay, and?”

(This feels oddly familiar. Is this the set-up for what he thinks it is?)

Roier’s grin doesn’t falter. “Kiss me.”

(Of-fucking-course.)

Cellbit wants to facepalm, flick his husband on his very kissable face, but the fondness in his heart is quickly growing, and he laughs instead, shaking his head to himself. “Que? Like the fucking movie?”

It’s the spider-hybrid’s turn to laugh. “C’mon, man! You know you want to!”

“Uh-huh.”

“Bésame, pendejo. Before I get light-headed and fall on my face or some shit. You don’t want me cracking my—”

Huffing another laugh, the investigator tilts his head up and cups Roier’s cheeks, connecting their lips and effectively shutting him up.

The angle makes it wonky and awkward, and the kiss only lasts a few seconds before they’re smiling and snickering, and snickering turns into even more laughter.

(How did they get here?)

Still holding Roier’s face, Cellbit plants kisses to the corner of his mouth, his nose, and his forehead in succession. “Te amo, guapito.”

Roier’s smile softens, eyes bright, and his husband is certain he’s falling in love with the spider-hybrid all over again. “Eu te amo, gatinho.”

#holy shit that took ages HBEJDJWD #BUT I DID IT #is this coherent? i’m not sure #i wanted a fluffy mess and by god i got a mess at the very least #but it’s my mess #and i love my cubito husbands and their love very much #qsmp cellbit #qsmp roier #spiderbit #qsmp #blue writes qsmp #a.d's spiderbit week

[cressthebest]

Crimson Rivers thoughts pt. 10

chapter 18:

1. remus is just free to exist around sirius. every mention of that makes me HURT

2. and i know that remus sets/asks sirius to break boundaries but i LOVE sirius setting his about remus not fucking around with memories because he has issues with that

3. AWWW another wolfstar kiss! i’ll never get used to these

4. omg the wolfstar neck kisses are making ME realize how much i miss neck kisses. honestly, straight up, those are better than sex

5. nooo baby! i’m so sorry that sirius was made into a sex symbol of sorts for the hallow. that sucks. no one deserves that, especially not a child (when it began occurring for him)

6. it hurts that james knows he wouldn’t kill for his own sake, and he’s only killing to protect regulus and get him out of here

7. “Really, James takes great pride in the fact that no one annoys Regulus like him.” LMAO

8. “Blinking violently, James clears his throat and says, "Oh, yes, keep talking about math. There's absolutely nothing more attractive. You're a swot. If you tell me what the mitochondria is, I'm not sure I'll be able to restrain myself."” ASLDJFKDHDKSJNSMSN LOSING MY SHIT

9. wait. hold up. regulus used to write poetry about james. holy shit. i love this development so much

10. PETER!!!!!!!

11. 😧 reg is mad at james and all he wants to do is put a knife to james’ throat and hope he moans. holy fuck “So exposed to violence that it's even starting to blend with sex.” that’s both a wild thought and a sad thought

12. GOD regulus doesn’t trust james, but he trusted evan. that hurts like a motherfucking truck

13. god it hurts that vanity, peter, and the others can’t all survive. they don’t deserve this

chapter 19:

1. VANITY!! babbyyyy she’s gonna die nooooo

2. the ant juice to keep her warm 😟😟

3. 😬 they’re gonna make a bridge. i’m not sure about that. that worries me. and peter lighting the fires. this entire thing is gonna end with one of james’ allies dead

4. “”Oh, and the 'best friend's brother, secret history, forbidden love' way also.”” 😭😭😭 not vanity’s description of jegulus

5. vanity asking about what sex is like and james IMMEDIATELY shutting her down 😭😭

6. being scared about the bug- i’m with james on this one.

7. 😧😳 omg not dylan, peter, AND irene. (NO SHAME OR JUDGMENT ON MY BEHALF) holy shit.

8. 😭😭😭 i love when any one of the tributes talks to the sky to talk to their mentors, friends, or family

9. irene and james betting on a jealous regulus 😭😭😭

10. the bridge worked. i’m honestly so shocked

11. this bug (vespa) is stressing me tf out

12. about the bug, vanity is like 🩷😊✨🪲 and james is like 😟😬🙅🏽‍♂️

13. i’d like to make the guess now: autistic vanity

14. not james being turned on by reg talking mean to him. this is ridiculous 😭😭

#marauders #regulus black #james potter #fanfic #jegulus #sirius black #remus lupin #wolfstar #vanity #peter pettigrew #irene #crimson rivers

[bookshelf-dust]

really know him

part i part ii part iii part iv

eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 2,906

warnings: swearing, feelings, feelings, and more feelings, hurt/comfort

a/n: hello! i've decided that there will be one more part after this one, and then that will conclude this little series. i hope that you've enjoyed it so far, and maybe even found some semblance of something in it. this version of eddie has been pretty enjoyable for me to write. let me know what you think of this part! i'd really appreciate it. love you! <3

update: this is how it ends. i couldn’t think of any other way to complete the series, and i feel like this is an alright ending for these two. i know that might seem disappointing, but sometimes you just have to move on. i hope you enjoyed this little series for what it was, mess and all.

————

You creep down the hall, hoping that neither of your parents will have heard the sound of your footsteps. It’s not until you’ve locked your door and taken your shoes off that you allow yourself to sit down. You’re not sure you’ve taken a proper breath since you started arguing with Eddie. 

You can’t get the sound of his voice out of your head.

“Try what?”

“Letting me in, for fucks sake! I can’t fucking help you, if you won’t let me in!”

You fuss with the hem on the blanket covering your bed. Eddie is upset with you, and you don’t know what to do.

“Why won’t you let me in?”

But maybe you do. You have to let him in. You have to talk to him, tell him how you’re feeling, how scared you are of losing someone who makes you feel as safe and cared for as he does. You have to tell Eddie how you really feel—about school, about your homelife, about him. 

“I want you, Y/N.”

You lay down on your back, legs hanging off the end of your mattress. You stare at the ceiling: every thought, every fear is choking you all at once. 

Maybe you never should’ve made friends with Eddie. Maybe you never should’ve tried to get to know him. Really know him. Maybe it would have been easier if you’d just kept to yourself, done your schoolwork, suppressed your emotions like always. 

But what if it isn’t supposed to be easy? What if it’s about damn time you got off your ass and fixed this? If it’s time you let someone in?

Do you really want to let this go? To not even find out what it might be like—loving Eddie Munson?

When the tears start, you don’t bother to wipe them away. You let them pool in the corners of your eyes and slip free, sliding down the sides of your face and over the bottoms of your ears. You let yourself cry because you know that there’s a part of you that wants Eddie too, that is upset for having shouted at him, for having not taken the opportunity to let him help. 

You need to talk to him. You know that. And how is it fair if he’s let you really get to know him, but you haven’t let him really know you? He deserves better than that. 

“I think maybe you should want someone who’s not so much trouble.”

Your stomach drops. You hadn’t meant to say that, but you did. 

How could you know what he wants if you won’t talk to him? You know you were in the wrong for having said so. Maybe you were overwhelmed, but Eddie had laid all of his cards out for you, he’d shown you his damn hand, and you couldn’t even accept that. 

He was honest with you, he said he wanted you, and you told him that was wrong. What right do you have to tell him that? How would you feel if he’d said the same? Like shit, that’s how. 

You need to fix this. 

And you know it’s going to hurt, that it’s going to be hard, that you’re going to have to spill your guts and show him how much he means to you. But that is what he deserves. He deserves to know that he is wanted, that someone appreciates him. Loves him. 

And life hurts, doesn’t it? Shit is hard, but you do it anyhow. This is your life, and Eddie Munson is not worth losing.

————

“Y’know, staring at her window isn’t gonna do a thing, kid.” 

Wayne sits down with a sigh. Eddie’s been outside on the porch, staring off into space for what Wayne is damn sure has been an unhealthy amount of time.

Eddie hadn’t slept much at all, drifting in and out of sleep throughout the night. He’d been awake to hear Wayne come home—something he’s usually totally knocked out for. He’d pulled himself out of bed then, wanting to see his uncle, wanting to tell him everything but worrying that he’d be too worn out to hear about it. 

Instead, Wayne had made the two of them breakfast, and then they’d talked about it. Halfway through the meal, Eddie had realized that talking is exactly what he wanted to do with you. What he wants to do. He doesn’t know if you will ever talk to him. But maybe he shouldn’t think that way. 

Wayne hadn’t been upset with him when he’d got a little teary over the prospect of you, of more than just a friendship with you. He’d just rubbed his shoulder and made sure Eddie ate, assuring him that the both of you would work it out, that he’d be here if Eddie needed him. 

When he’d finished, Eddie had gone outside. Now he’s tempted to walk across the street, to tell you he feels like he can’t breathe being so frustrated with you. But there’s also a part of him that feels like that’s a bad idea, that thinks you’ll come to him when you’re ready. 

Any part of him that was angry at you has dissipated, leaving only hurt and exasperation. He just wants to fix it. He hated seeing you so overwhelmed, hated hearing you shout at him, hated hearing you speak about yourself like that. 

But he’d meant what he said. He does want you. 

“Yeah, no shit,” Eddie says. 

Wayne huffs a laugh, claps a hand against Eddie’s knee. 

“You gonna go over there yourself? Or just wait for her to come to you?”

Eddie drags both hands down his face and slides further down the couch, his hair splaying out against the cushion behind him. 

“I don’t know if I should go over there. It might piss her off or something. But this not talking shit, or at least knowing we’re not doing okay, is eating me alive.”

Wayne glances at him. “I can see that.”

Eddie scoffs, putting a hand to his heart. “Wow, thanks, Wayne. Very helpful.” His words are laced with sarcasm. 

“Listen kid, the only way you’re going to figure this out is if you communicate with each other. You’re not gonna solve any problems sulking like this. She feels things differently than you do, and you’re just going to have to learn how to navigate it.”

Eddie knows it’s true. He’s gotten a lot more open as he’s grown, knowing he could talk to Wayne about whatever, whenever. He just needs to learn you like he’s learned himself. If you want, that is. 

“Yeah. Yeah, I know.” Eddie stands. He pulls the door open, bending at the waist. He’s bowing. “Thank you, Wayne the Wise.”

————

You’re pacing your room. Sure, it’s only been a day or something, but you don’t like feeling like this. Feeling like something is wrong. Knowing that it is and you don’t exactly know how to repair things. 

And that voice keeps telling you that you never should have made friends with Eddie in the first place. It won’t leave you alone. 

Without thinking, you pick up the phone. The voice that answers is not the one you’d assumed would, but you can’t lie: you’re relieved. 

“Wayne?”

“Hey, sweetie. Need somethin’?”

You choke up, and you can’t even explain why. You hope he doesn’t catch it. 

“Uh, yeah. Is Eddie home?”

Wayne clears his throat. “No, hon’ I’m afraid not. He’s got Hellfire tonight. I’m about to head out for work.”

“Oh, okay. Do you know what time he’s usually finished, maybe?”

You can hear the smile in his voice when he responds. “‘Round ten, I think? He tries to be mindful that the kids might have to get rides home.”

“Thank you, Wayne. I appreciate that.”

“Mhm. Anytime, kiddo. You need anything else, you let me know, okay?”

“I will, promise.” 

When he hangs up, you start shaking your hands out, trying to keep yourself stable. If you’re really going to do this, you need to calm down. You take a few breaths, in and out, in and out. If you don’t, you’re either going to cry or panic. There’s a marginal risk for both. 

You snatch your keys up from where they were tossed on your desk, shove your feet into a pair of shoes, and make the short trip outside and to your car. 

You start it and drive out of the trailer park. Your hands are shaking. 

What if this doesn’t work out? What if you really, truly fucked up, and Eddie’s realized that you are too much trouble, that he doesn’t need you in his life? That he has other friends, better friends, and that there will always be someone better than you? 

You’re sure he’d be fine without you. You’re not sure you can say the same.

It starts to rain.

When you pull into the Hawkins High parking lot, you run through the memory you have of its layout before you stop the car. You get as close to the exit nearest the drama room as you can, hoping you’ll be able to spot the group when they come out. 

It’s pouring now, and you start to think that this really was a shitty idea. Eddie might not even want to see you. You shove that down because if you keep thinking that way you’re going to make yourself sick.

You have to look out of the passenger side window to see the door. It’s raining too hard to see much else, though every once in a while there’s a crack of lightning that illuminates the entire school for you. 

You’re just about to wonder if you’ve missed them, or if it’s running later than usual, when the doors fly open and kids flood out, hoods pulled over their heads as they run to the cars you watched pull up. Only one of them has an umbrella, a boy with curly hair, and he holds it above his and two other boys’ heads. 

You get increasingly nervous, watching the group of people. People you realize are Eddie’s friends, all in their matching t-shirts. Only when the cars start to leave, when most of the students are gone, do you see a familiar face. 

Eddie. He stands underneath the oning, hands fishing around in his pockets for keys while he glances up at the storm. He has a bag slung over his shoulder, and you can see him contemplating his best move. This is your chance. 

You push the car door open and rush out. The slam it makes as it closes catches Eddie’s attention. He looks in your direction, brows raising in surprise. 

“Eddie!”

He realizes you’re getting soaked and rushes to meet you halfway. You’re insane, and he’s not mad about it.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, yelling over the rain, bangs starting to stick to his forehead. 

“I wanted to see you. I wanted to talk to you. I didn’t know it was going to rain.”

Eddie laughs then. Full on. He tosses his head back and clutches his chest. “I didn’t know it was going to either.”

You frown at him. “Eddie, I’m so sorry.”

Oh shit, he thinks. You want to talk to him. He locks eyes with you. 

“I’m not good with this, with being open, and I don’t know how to do it. And you want me to, but I guess I need you to help me.” You drag your hands across your face, pushing water from your eyelashes.

“I want your help, Eddie. I want you.”

Eddie coughs, and you can’t tell if it’s the rain or not. Really it’s because he can’t believe you just said that. 

“What?” he exclaims, yelling over the rush of rain and wind. 

“You didn’t hear me?” You’re slightly confused. 

“Oh, I heard you.” Eddie takes a step toward you. He’s inches from you now. “I need you to say it again.”

You look at him, his cheeks flushed pink, his hair matted down and sticking to everything. You’re worried he’s got paper in that bag and it’s going to get ruined. His shirt is wet enough now that you can see his necklace underneath, the outline of his chest. 

You reach forward and push his bangs out of his eyes. 

“I want you too, Eddie. I just need help.”

Before you can even comprehend it, Eddie’s hands are on the side of your neck and pushing into your hair. He’s never looked as serious as he does now; his brow furrowed, completely and utterly concentrated on you. For a second you feel like you’re the only person in the world. And you have Eddie Munson’s attention. 

He kisses you. It’s soft at first, curious, but still full of meaning. His mouth is warm and soft against yours. Only when you kiss back does he get a little firmer, a little more insistent. 

You’re both totally wet now, the rain having soaked through every inch of clothing. You’re sure you’ll feel absolutely miserable after being in this weather. But you don’t care. Not when he’s kissing you like he is. 

Your hands find his collarbones, fingers trailing up and into his hair. When you realize how difficult that is to accomplish, you remember it’s fucking raining. You pull away.

Eddie groans like he can’t believe you’d deprive him of that. 

“I’m really fucking sorry, Eddie.”

“I know, sweetheart.” His hands haven’t left your face. His thumbs are stroking your cheeks. “And I’m sorry for yelling at you like I did. I just got frustrated, and—”

“And I need to let you in. I know. I want to.”

Eddie presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll be patient. I want to help.”

“I know, Eddie. I want to try.”

He smiles brilliantly at you, the kind that starts slow and expands enough to light up his eyes, make you feel like you’re in on some big, beautiful secret.

“Let’s go home, yeah?” 

————

You drive home separately to get changed, but as soon as you’re dry, you slip into pajamas and right back at the door. 

You run across the sandy road with a little overnight bag in your hand, and Eddie had clearly been waiting for you because he stands with the door open, laughing at your insistence on getting there quickly. 

When he shuts it behind you, he’s still giggling. You smack the back of your hand lightly against his stomach.

“Nice pj’s, Munson.”

He grins. “Thank you.” Eddie’s got on a shirt that has a concerning amount of holes in it, and Garfield pajama pants. “I could say the same to you.”

Your pajamas are about the same level of ratty that his are. You stick your tongue out at him, but he only smiles. He’s happy that you’re here. 

It’s late. “You wanna go to bed?” Eddie asks, leaning forward. 

“Yes, please.”

“Good. C’mon.” He turns around and you hook your fingers in the waistband of his pants. He turns around to look, but only laughs and keeps walking. 

The carpeted in the hallway is soft on your feet, worn in, but comforting nonetheless. Eddie shuts his door behind you and takes your bag from you, setting it on the floor beside his bed.

You sit down on the edge, suddenly feeling very uneasy. 

“What’s the matter?” Eddie’s looking down at you, his hands tying his hair up into a loose bun at the base of his neck. 

“I just—do we have to talk about all my feelings tonight?”

He smiles at you. “No, baby. We can do that tomorrow. Take it one step at a time, right? We’ll work through it together, yeah?”

You nod at him. “Okay.”

“Now, lay down for me, okay?”

You feel yourself warm up, but you do as he says. His sheets are cool under your legs, his pillows surprisingly soft.

Eddie gets in after you, but doesn’t slide down into bed yet. 

“Listen, I think we need to snuggle, alright?” You snort, but he keeps going, fighting a laugh of his own. “Do you want to be the little spoon? Or can I? Or do you want to do something else?”

You start to smile at him, a slow, Cheshire cat grin. 

“You wanna be the little spoon? Please?”

Eddie chuckles, and it’s the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. “Hell yeah I do.”

He flips onto his side, back facing you. You scoot over and tuck yourself against him, slinging your arm around his side and over his stomach. He’s smiling, utterly content.

You slip your hand under his shirt so that it rests against the soft of his belly. You giggle into his back, clearly pleased with yourself, and Eddie raises his head. 

“Happy?”

“Very much so.”

He pushes up onto his elbow. “Kiss?”

“Sure.”

You plant one on him. And another. He smiles into the third. 

“That good?” You ask.

“Spectacular.”

You both settle in, and you find yourself burying your face in between his shoulder blades. You find it to be extremely comfortable. Eddie smiles to himself at your eagerness. 

At some point, Eddie grabs hold of your hand where it lays on his tummy, and you throw your leg over his hip. He doesn’t mind.

He’s never felt safer.

You’ve never felt more reassured, like you’re safe to let him in. And you know he won’t push you away.

————

please let me know if you liked this! feedback is always appreciated!! comments and reblogs mean more than you know. <33

tagging: @ajkamins @golddustwitches @copycatkillerfics @prestinalove @zaypay @clovermunson @kelsiegrin @storiesbyrhi @avalon-wolf

#savannah’s fics #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson series #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fluff #eddie the banished #wayne munson

[jvnluvr]

torn lies ; itoshi sae ♡

author’s note: i came up with a something on a whim today after my lovely follower @uvbnr21-killer requested so i'm sorry it took a bit. nobody saw the first post, i forgot to add tags so i deleted it and now am rewriting it. kaiser angst would hurt my soul, but sae fits this perfectly. i'm so nervous & scared because i never write angst so i hope this is okay.

itoshi sae couldn't, wouldn't and will never understand you. maybe that's why he keeps coming back into your life.

itoshi sae x f!reader

notes: foul language, implied toxic relationship, reader has anxiety and hand tremors, sae acts like he's innocent when he's not, ft. isagi and rin

"i understand. now say it with me, we're gonna be okay.”

that was the last lie itoshi sae could say to you.

how long had it been? with how busy your life had become, itoshi sae was just a distant thought in the back of your mind. a man you wished you had never met, never wanted, or never had been with. how could a man, even like him, be so heartless? you knew him, you knew that wasn't him, but that doesn't mean he was going to change.

as much as you could have dwelled upon it, cried about it, have gotten angry about it, and all these other complex emotions humans could feel, there was simply no point. itoshi sae has been long gone, and life had made other plans. you became a professional athlete, just like itoshi-. wait, you just said you would stop thinking about him.

see, that was the entire problem. taking the same career path of the man who was once yours just made you think about him more. your mind was tainted with the thought of sae. you couldn't keep living like this, life was already miserable as is. you couldn't go out in public without having to hide away like you were an embarrassment. nobody knew, but they knew. they knew from the way you would rarely come out in public anymore, the way cameras caught your hands tremoring trying to talk to interviewers.

…

"can't you just leave me the fuck alone?”

"i’m your girlfriend for fuck's sake! you can talk to me for 5 minutes a day if you're really that busy."

"yeah? 'know what, you aren't worth those 5 extra fucking minutes.

…

what came after that was more yelling, then it came to tears, and finally, you left what you had once called home, what you had once called your forever. you slammed an awakening in itoshi sae's face before you left, for good.

"[name]! tell us how you feel about the upcoming match." an interviewer asked, shoving the mic close to your lips. "i think it'll be good." you let out a very monotoned voice, signaling that your anxiety was starting to get worse again. "ah, please share some more thoughts with-"

"oh look! it's itoshi sae!! why is he here?" your eyes widened as you followed the voice, and it came from all across the area. " think she'll leave with us, thanks for your time." a smooth, yet deep voice replied near your ear before you were dragged away. you already knew who it was, so you looked back once last time, seeing the interviewer run off in the voice's direction.

"everyone is obsessed with him, it makes me sick." you sighed out, your breathing starting to get shallower. “thanks for dragging me out of there.” the man let you go, letting you sink to the ground and hug your knees. "stupid media people, forget them. how are you feeling?” isagi yoichi asked, crouching down to meet your pained eyes.

"'Il be fine, jus' hope this fuckin' tremors stop before i have to go on." your hands were burning. not because of the tremors, nor was it because of isagi. because every single thing you did reminded you of itoshi sae. you were more than just frustrated because of this, so you couldn't help but try and rip your hair out as your eyes watered.

"fuckin' asshole, how could he say that even 5 minutes for me was a waste of his time," you mumbled, not wanting to lose your composure in such a public place. "sae-san will never change, [name]. you deserve a lot better anyway. c'mon, the other guys are waiting for you." he held your hands as he helped you get up, but it was all mindless movement in your eyes. walking into the stadium, across the bleachers, everything felt blank.

itoshi sae is the worst.

how could he do such a thing?

was that really the sae you fell in love with?

no, he'll come back, right?

he didn't mean it.

whatever, fuck him anways.

an inner monologue with yourself that always bought you to shreds. what point was there in constantly being in a stage of denial when the evidence was right in your hollow eyes? you so desperately wished for your feelings to change, for your heart to not crave, desire, to want to love itoshi sae. but he always walked away. away from his friends, his family, from you.

"[name?] is it sae again?' itoshi rin snapped you out of your trance again. you blinked widely a couple times, before your tired eyes met rin's. '''t wouldn't usually be this bad, stupid fuckin' guy decided to waltz into here today." you grumbled to him, in which he sighed.

"sorry, [name.] even i don't know why he keeps coming back. it's best if you just ignore him though. sae doesn't actually care, we've seen."

yeah, itoshi sae doesn't care about you.

…

then why his is gaze so warm?

you're on the field, staring into the crowds of people when you see him. you could only manage a second of eye contact, but immediately you felt like your heart was being ripped out of your chest.

…

"don't do that."

"do what, [name]?"

"don't look at me like you still care.”

…

"good game out there today, [name]."

"you don't mean it. why are you back?" you could feel the tremors coming back, despite your best efforts to control them.

"tch, i'm not allowed to tell someone 'good job?"'

"should you fuckin' be allowed to break someone's heart? no! but ya did it anyway. now get out of my sight, stupid egoist." it's vicious, but it's also been long overdue.

[name], it's been so long, why are you still hung up-"

"you're an asshole who ruined my life, all because you're a narcissist, self-centered and close-minded. you want me to spell out more?"

for once, your voice stood against him.

his eyes widened, an unmistakable look in his eyes saying that he didn't expect that, not out of you.

and for the first time, you walked away from itoshi sae.

#itoshi sae #blue lock #blue lock x reader #blue lock x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock imagines #blue lock itoshi sae #bllk x reader #itoshi sae x reader #itoshi sae x y/n #itoshi sae x you #blue lock angst

[depressopax]

The first - Part 1

Fandom - Breaking Bad/Better call Saul

Pairing: Multiple characters x gender-neutral reader (Nacho, Jesse, Kim, Jimmy, Mike, Howard) Genre: Fluff, hurt/comfort, one-shots Warning(s): Mentions of sexual tension, weed and alcohol. Cuss words Words: 1.5k Summary: The first kiss with the BrBa/BCS characters English is not my main language, if I make any spelling mistakes please let me know so I can improve my writing! <3 »» AO3 link || Masterlist || Request ««

The first kiss

Nacho

You and Nacho had been friends for quite a while during this time. One day, you were chilling in his house and talking and it kinda just happened. Having a complicated life, Nacho was scared to drag you - one of the people he cares about mostly - into it. But the sexual tension between the two of you reached a tipping point when you got into the topic of relationships.

“If things were easier, maybe I’d actually have time to find love” Nacho sighed.

“You deserve to be happy, Nacho.”

“I am. With you.” He realized how it sounded and shook his head. “...Nevermind.” 

But you’d heard enough to know you were not crazy. He liked you, too. Without another word, you pressed your lips against his. At first, he responded but soon pulled back.

“We shouldn’t.”

“I know.” 

Silence fell, and after a moment, you stood up, walking to the door before you felt Nacho grab your arm. Before given the chance to react - he spinned you around and pulled you into a kiss. With his palm cupping your face, he kissed you in a way no one had done before. It was passionate and needy. Afterwards, he held onto you, breathing hot air at you whilst your foreheads pressed against each other.

“Stay.”

You nodded.

“I’m not going anywhere”

Jesse

Jesse invited you to one of his parties and since you liked him, you decided to go. Little did you know, he felt the same… Opening the door to the house, you were hit by loud music, loud voices and the smell of alcohol, sweat and weed. At least 20 people in the living room vibing to the music whilst getting drunk and high. You felt a bit disoriented entering the place, directly scanning the place for Jesse. You found him sitting in the living room together with the friends Skinny Pete and Badger. When seeing you he smiled and greeted you.

“Yo! I’m glad you made it here.” After hugging you he dragged you along to the kitchen. “Something to drink?” 

“Yes please!” After handing you a beer, the two of you sat down next to Jesse’s friends and talked. They kept glancing at the two of you and grinning, like they knew something you didn’t. 

“Man… You’re so down bad for them, Jesse.” Badger mumbled whilst smoking his joint. Jesse looked like he wanted to murder his best friend on the spot, whilst Pete just laughed. So that’s what they were grinning about…

“Is that right, Jesse?”

“I…” He stuttered an explanation, but none was needed. 

“Maybe I like you too?” 

“If you’re playing with me right now…”

“Jesse.” You said firmly. “I mean it.”

After that, Jesse basically grabbed your hand and walked out of the house, with his friends whistling and laughing at the scene.

“Sorry ‘bout them. They’re such damn jerks.” Jesse muttered and looked at the night sky, his face turned away from you to hide the blush. 

“You like me.”

“And you like me, too?”

“Yea.” 

“Perfect.”

Without realizing it, the two of you had moved closer to each other. When he leaned down, you didn’t hesitate. It was like you could taste the smoke on his soft lips as you kissed. It was intoxicating. Afterwards, you both looked at the sky.

“We should have done that a long time ago.”

“Yea”

Kim 

Kim was overworking herself - as usual. And being her worried friend, you couldn’t stand the sight of it. During her lunch break, you went to her office at HHM only to find her buried in paperwork. 

“Kim, for fuck sake…”

She barely noticed your presence so you had to walk up to her and tap her shoulder.

“Hey…” she said absent-mindedly. 

“Kim…”

“I’ll be done soon, don’t worry”

“You’ve said that for days, Kim.” 

“Yea? Well why don’t you-” realizing she was about to snap at you, she went quiet really fast and looked at you in shame “I’m sorry.”

After some convincing, she finally agreed to leave the office and let you buy her a coffee. Seeing her holding the warm paper cup containing cappuccino melted your heart. She looked so calm, for once.

“I’m worried for you.”

“That’s sweet of you… But really, I’m fine.”

You were not satisfied with the reply, and she noticed that - since you had stopped walking. 

“Hey… What’s the matter?” she said softly and threw the empty cup in a near bin before standing before you.

“I care about you, Kim. I don’t want you burned out…” 

She stroked your cheek, and you could no longer hold back the feelings you harbored. When you kissed her, she didn’t pull back. Rather, she pulled you closer to her. 

“Will you stop nagging if I take the afternoon off?” You could only nod in reply, still in shock after the kiss. 

Jimmy

“Are you even listening to me?”

“Hmmm? What?” you looked at Jimmy, who drove the car. “Yea, of course. You told me about some clients.” 

“...If I bore you out that badly, just tell me, sugar.” he muttered before parking the car.

“You don’t bore me, Jimmy.” 

“Sure seems like it.” 

He left the car and you had to run after him. 

“Look, I’m sorry… It’s just, I’m worried, I guess.”

“Worried? Why?”

“You should hear yourself sometimes, Jimmy.” You hissed. “You’re dealing with some dangerous people. And you always put yourself in shit situations!”

“I got this! Ok?!”

“Yea, sure you do. Sure.” 

He rolled his eyes and continued walking. 

“Why do you even care?” he grumbled. You had to bite your tongue to not say anything stupid. Because what could you even say? “...And you’re back to ignoring me. Thank you, sweetie.” 

“Because I just care, ok?” Tears burned in your eyes, and now he noticed.

“Hey… Sweetheart-” he sighed, seeming uncomfortable with your emotions. “I’m sorry, ok?” 

He squeezed your shoulder. 

After a minute of awkward silence, he tried lightening the mood with saying:

“You got a lil crush on good ol’ Jimmy, eh?” Your reaction told him everything. “You do??” he chuckled. 

“...Idiot.”

“Your idiot.” he murmured before stepping closer - he tilted your head up and forced you to look at him. 

“I knew you got the hots for me, sugar. Don’t worry. I feel the same.” 

And then he kissed you. At first, you wanted to pull away. You were still angry at him - after all. 

But it’s hard to be mad at someone that kisses you like that. 

And the way he smiled against your lips - Oh god…

Mike

You had just found out about Mike’s work, and just what he does for his boss Gus Fring. And you were not happy. Saying “you needed to think”, you rushed out from his place. 

“Can you at least let me explain?” Mike hissed, following you - one step behind. 

“Mike…” 

“Please.” Something in his voice had changed. It went from the usually calm but firm tone - to a pleading one. It caught you off guard and you turned around to look at him. He seemed stressed.

“What?” you muttered.

“Please, let me explain.” 

And seeing how desperate he seemed, you couldn’t say no. So you listened to him, letting him tell you about his career and why he did it.

“Why didn’t you tell me earlier?”

“Why would I?” he scoffed, but quickly realised how harsh it sounded. Before you had a chance to leave again, he grabbed your hand.

“Because I care about you. I’m not pulling you into my bullshit.” 

Your heart skipped a beat at his next words…

“I can’t lose you. Please.”  

And then… 

He kissed you. Just like that. And how could you pull away, when you’d been dreaming of this moment for so long?

The kiss said more than thousands of words. 

Everything made sense now.

Howard

You had known Howard for quite a while and he invited you out for lunch during one of his breaks. 

“Over here!” you saw him sitting by a two-person table at the restaurant, waving at you with a big smile. You joined him.

“Jeez, Howard! This place looks… Expensive!”

“Only the best lunch restaurant in town!” He said cheerfully, but you could sense some sort of… Nervousness? In his voice.  “Tell me about your day!”

“Well uhm… It was-” He looked at you intensely. It was both cute but a bit weird. “...Are you ok?”

“Of course!” 

After lunch - which he insisted on paying - you tagged along when he walked back to HHM and his office. Before saying goodbye, he stopped you.

“Wait! I actually need to talk to you.” 

“Alright… Shoot.” 

“I…” he gathered his thoughts and cleared his throat before continuing - or at least trying to. “I kinda… Y’know…” 

You couldn’t help but smile. The blush said everything.

“Howard…” you cooed, and then leaned in and kissed him. He was startled, but then kissed you back and sighed in relief at you initiating this. 

“Was that what you were trying to say?”

“Y-yea…” 

“Well… I definitely feel the same.”

AHSHSHS this is prob one of my cheesiest one-shots yet- HOPE Y'ALL LIKED IT EITHER WAYS <3 Next part will be "First date". If you like this concept like, comment or reblog! Would mean a lot. :) MWAHHH

#writing community #writeblr #creative writing #breaking bad x reader #better call saul x reader #better call saul #fan fic writing #drabble #one-shot #one shot #slow burn #masterlist #x reader #brbabcs #breaking bad #smut #breaking bad smut #fanfic writing #fanfic authors #saul goodman x reader #kim wexler x reader #nacho x reader #jesse x reader #howard hamlin x reader #mike ehrmantraut x reader #jesse pinkman #kim wexler #jimmy mcgill #jimmy mcgill x reader #scenario

[boywriters-blog]

So…is it ok to request some Yandere dethklok x reader headcanons?

Dethklok/Reader hcs

of course it is!! thank you for the request!! very excited for my first metalocalypse request heheh o(^▽^)o + added charles for silly ^_^

warning: death (no major characters obviously)

Nathan:

-when he’s obsessed he is OBSESSED

-he will do anything you want him do, genuinely

-being Nathan’s partner is hard work, not just because he’s high maintenance, but because he’s the lead singer of dethklok, everyone in the world knows who he is

-if anyone hurts you? a klokiteer or himself will deal with it

-you will know when he kills someone for you , he tried to hide it but he’s not very good at it

-“what happened to ____?”

-“what-?- i don’t know who you’re talking about- i never met anyone with that name- hey- wanna go have like- sex or something??” he would desperately try to change the topic, he’s visibly nervous, a terrible liar

-you drop it but note the way he reacted

-next time it happens he tries to distract you by pampering you, would even go as far as to eat you out / give you head

-when you finally fully realize what’s up and see it happen for yourself, you aren’t freaked out, i mean, thousands of people die every time they preform a concert

-tbh you find it really sweet, especially since most people he’s killing are total dildos

-he stills prefers to not do it in front of you , but occasionally if they did something to really fuck you up he’ll try to make you feel better by letting you watch

-would definitely write a song about it, i mean it’s super brutal how could he not

Pickles:

-he probably doesn’t even know he’s doing it at first because he’s so shitfaced all the time

-he also doesn’t realize you KNOW and that you’ve known since the beginning, the first time he killed someone for you, he accidentally did it in front of your face

-he was too shitfaced to remember

-you didn’t say anything at first because you always liked him, you thought it was sweet in a brutal way, and the guy deserved it he was a creep

-you didn’t see the next few times, but he started acting a bit differently around you, a little more suspicious and like he’s hiding something

-he ends up confessing it to you in a drunken state, but he sobers up pretty quickly once he realizes what he said

-if you make him promise to not hurt anyone who didn’t absolutely deserve it, he will just be so grateful you’re not angry at him

-definitely more affectionate with you afterwards

-strengthens your relationship tbh

Toki:

-dude he would be so nervous the entire time about you finding out

-would never do it himself , always has a klokiteer do it

-wouldn’t tell you or hint at it

-he would only kill people that were pieces of shit dildos, he would send the rest to the dethklok prison

-he confesses everything out of guilt, he confesses the way he enjoyed beating the shit out of people who deserved it, especially after they did something to you or got too close to you

-you comfort him because he didn’t do anything inherently morally wrong, and he’s overjoyed and relieved

-he would probably hug you for a long time, like a cuddle, with a few kisses

-you make him promise to not do it again, not only for your sake, but for his too

-he never leaves your side after that

Skwisgaar:

-i’m honestly so 50/50 abt him

-i feel like he wouldn’t try to hide it, but it’s just hidden somehow

-he doesn’t act any different, he acts extremely casual, you don’t notice any difference in his behavior around you, maybe a little more touchy but you assumed it was just you growing closer

-definitely holds your lower back in an over protective kinda way

-would very casually mention it in conversation like “oh ja , ams killst thats guys”

-you would have to do a double take and like interrogate him , he would admit everything but only to you

-he doesn’t want the others to think he’s like super gay or anything for killing these people for you

-they do not care but he’s self conscious

-would move on like nothing happened and tbh so did you, it wasn’t bothersome so why worry?

-clingy cuddles from him later frl

William:

-he probably tells you to be honest

-he’s proud of it

-wants you to be proud of him too

-you sigh and ask him how many people he killed

-he shrugs, he genuinely lost count, but he looks up at you with these puppy dog eyes that you can’t resist

-you groan and roll your eyes

-“okay fine, whatever, just at least try to make sure they’re a complete dildo beforehand, okay??”

-“shhurrrre okay”

-he would he attached at your hip for the end of time

-very VERY touchy, like has to be touching you at all times, likes to show you off as his

Charles:

-you have no fucking idea what’s going on

-he makes them all look like accidents

-he’s a little more affectionate than normal after he does it, but excuses it with being tired

-went on for a while before you even had an IDEA of anything happening

-he will not tell you, you have to find out yourself

-once you do, you wait for a while to confront him, study him and his actions

-you start to recognize when he did something and that’s when you confront him

-he lowkey begs for you to stay, he would apologize for everything, and get down on one knee while apologizing

-you could never say no to that face so you stay of course

-pampers you with gifts and quality time

oh my god babes i’m so sorry for the couple days of nothing from me 💔

life is weird rn but i will get back to work on the requests immediately!

never be afraid to request!

much love,

Mooshi <3

#boywriters-blog #dethklok #metalocalypse #nathan explosion #pickles the drummer #skwisgaar skwigelf #toki wartooth #william murderface #charles offdensen #yandere dethklok #yandere