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myosotisa · 1 year

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i'm starvin, darlin - e.m.

Eddie Munson x Reader

ǁ summary: Since coming back from the Upside Down, Eddie has slowly been changing. Each week seems to bring something different and he finds himself doing things he never thought he would.

ǁ tags: gender neutral reader, no pronouns, no y/n. nickname used (sweetheart). mentions of season 4 final episode and what occurred. canon divergent (every one lived). it's not smut, but smut adjacent. it's sexy

ǁ word count: 2k

ǁ notes: i sat down and wrote an entire one shot in one sitting again. and i am also not going to edit this one. and i do not feel bad for lowercase hozier title, so don't even try me like that. if y'all really like it, i can add a part 2 with smut, but this is it for now

There are still a lot of things Eddie is having to come to terms with since the night his heart stopped.

That night in the Upside Down, laying in Dustin’s arms, he had died. Without a doubt. Dustin had felt his pulse and there was nothing there. And though he didn’t know CPR, had no idea what he was doing, Dustin had laid him down on the ground and started to beat against his chest. Like maybe if he hit hard enough and in the right place, his friend would come back to life.

Somehow it worked. No one bothered to ask why.

But they all knew something was wrong two days later. Eddie, barely breathing and with a weak heartbeat, had been dragged back to the surface and hidden away in the RV they had stolen. Someone watched him round the clock as they debated what to do. If they should try to get him to a hospital, how they’d be able to explain it. But then something miraculous began to happen:

Eddie started healing. All on his own. Way faster than any person should have been able to.

His skin stitched itself back together faster than should be possible, leaving less scar tissue than it should have behind. His chest began to rise and fall in more steady breaths, his heart beat getting stronger, bones resetting themselves with slow and quiet creaks as he laid in that RV bed and slept. He’d been asleep since they brought him back.

The day he woke up, his body had almost entirely healed itself. From the brink of death, having even stepped over to the other side, and now he was almost back to before it ever happened. It had only been a week.

Everyone rejoiced, refusing to question anything weird that may have happened in the Upside Down and just thinking they finally won for once. Max had casts on both her arms but was otherwise unharmed, Steve had recovered from his own injuries at the rate of a normal human and now sported a scar around his throat that he sometimes felt self conscious about. Dustin was on crutches with his broken leg for another month at least. Eddie was alive and whole and back to himself. They’d made it, everyone had made it.

He began to notice more and more things that were different as the days went on.

The first thing he caught on to was that he had the capability to be strong. Way stronger than someone who had recently been bed ridden should be. It was like in the comic books with the Hulk – if he wasn’t paying attention or if he got too emotional, he could easily break anything. A walkman destroyed, a ceramic bowl reduced to shards, a metal pipe bent beyond fixing, the wooden handle of a hammer shattered in his grip. The boys were all present for the hammer incident and sighted it as one of the coolest things they had ever seen. They swarmed him, asking him how he did it, what else he could do, how strong he really was.

Only the other teens, Steve, Nancy, Robin, you, started to look a little bit closer.

When the next few changes became apparent, it was clear something unnatural had happened to Eddie that night in the Upside Down. He could feel other people's feelings. They brushed against his consciousness like ghosts whenever he looked at someone. Happiness like warm rays of sunshine, fear like a shuddering gust of wind, anger like hot coals pressed to his skin. It wasn’t a conscious effort – in fact, there were a lot of times he wished he could turn it off. Whenever he looked too hard at someone, it’s like his brain adjusted to a different frequency and their emotions reached out to him, no matter what they were. And he didn’t struggle to make sense of the sensations like he thought he might, his brain completed the dots easily at first, but then he began to recognize them consciously. It was certainly useful sometimes, especially when it came to you, but it still felt a bit invasive. When he’d explained it to a few people, he assured he tried to ignore it whenever he could, but sometimes he couldn’t help but react. The icey spike of terror he felt when you woke up next to him from a nightmare. The velvet comfort that enveloped you and him when he held you after.

The first time he spoke into someone’s mind it was an accident. Steve had whipped toward him, breath catching in his chest, eyes wide and mouth open in a gasp. Eddie felt it like ice down his spine. “Did you… You did that?” He’d asked breathlessly. It had been so shocking, Eddie wasn’t even sure what’d he said, or projected, or whatever it was.

“I - I don’t know.”

Steve stepped closer, suddenly looking determined. “Try to do it again.”

It was a slithering feeling when he dipped back into Steve’s mind. Like sliding his way in between cracks to a place he didn’t belong, seeping into the forefront of his thoughts to plant one of his own. It made him feel dirty, uncomfortable, and wrong. But it worked. Steve explained it as having a thought like his own but it came out in Eddie’s voice instead. An intrusive thought but not an uncomfortable one.

As with all of the other discoveries, a meeting was called. Dustin, Mike, Lucas, Max, Will, El, Robin, Jonathan, Nancy, Steve, and you. Steve did most of the talking while Eddie sat and looked at his hands. These meetings, while he acknowledged were important for everyone to keep track of his progression into… something, it still made him feel a bit like a zoo animal in a cage. A magician with a magic trick. All the boys immediately begged him to do it to them, they wanted to see what it felt like, wanted to see how easy it was for him to do it.

Nancy and Jonathan had shooed them, catching on to how overwhelmed Eddie was, their excitement and curiosity battering against him like a whipping wind of too much. Once it was just the older people in the room, you crossed over to where he was, kneeled down in front of him, reached out to hold his hand.

Pity felt like someone was pissing in his pants.

“Are you okay?”

How could he say no? How could he admit that he was scared, confused, and feeling more and more like a monster with the passing days? “It’s just a lot. To deal with.”

Your smile was pained as you pushed yourself up onto your calves and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. His came around your waist on instinct, the breath feeling like a wheeze in his lungs as he held tight. Face pressed into your hair with his eyes squeezed shut, he inhaled deep in relief.

That was when the next thing changed.

It was a desire. A need. One he couldn’t place a name to. Like he was desperately missing something, desperately craving something and he didn’t know it was. It crawled under his skin like ants and sent him scratching for a feeling that couldn’t be satiated. No matter what he tried: eating, drinking, masturbating, exercising. The feeling wouldn’t go away. It got stronger day after day, his mind focusing more and more on the void it left behind until it was all he could think about.

Steve threw a little get together at his house once a month or so. Just time for everyone to get together, eat some food, listen to music, play board games, maybe watch a movie. This was the first get together since his hunger began.

He was sitting on the couch on his own, decompressing. While normally he was right in the middle of everything, today it was a lot to handle when he was hyperfocused on the crawling beneath his skin. He had his legs spread wide, hands resting on them, leaning deep into the cushions of the couch in Steve’s basement. While he had initially tried to close his eyes, hang his head back, maybe stare at the ceiling – he couldn’t stop his attention from drifting back to you.

You and Eddie had been friends for a long time. Understandably, you’d gotten much closer after the events in March. The two of you had helped each other through hard nights of nightmares, panic attacks in parking lots, flashbacks in public. You’d been a great comfort to him since he came back. But today your laugh sounded like music. The smell of your perfume hit him even across the room. Each emotion crashed over him in waves, pushing and receding like the tide as he tried to get off your frequency, unentangle himself from you before he did something he didn’t mean to do.

I’m starving.

Your back stiffened, the grip on your plastic cup getting just a bit tighter. A moment of fear quickly shifted to mellowed surprise, curiosity. He’d never spoken into your mind before, hadn’t meant to do so now. But you still shifted, your eyes slowly coasting across the room until you caught sight of him on the couch.

A shock of electricity shot down his spine as you made eye contact, his hands tightening over his thighs in reaction. Unsure exactly what to do, he settled for projecting again. Slithered his way into your ears and settled a respectful distance from the area he’d never been brave enough to venture. Sorry, he offered with a wince, didn’t mean to.

What he didn’t expect was the utter flood of feeling that hit him next. Like a drip of warm honey settling into the space between his hips, pooling there in a subtle swirl as the warmth from it started to diffuse outward. You realized you’d been staring and your eyes flit away, but the feeling didn’t cease. In fact, it only got stronger. Your lower lip caught on your teeth as you shifted between your feet. Things that would be completely normal to see, wouldn’t have anyone looking twice, but Eddie could. Your desire. The want that poured from you like water when your eyes first met his.

Was this the first time? Had something changed between you and him? Or had he just never caught on before?

The ants beneath his skin began to vibrate as he narrowed in on the feeling, on you. Like the part of him that had slithered into your thoughts was now bearing down, digging in for purchase, wanting to stay awhile and feed on this new feeling, what you were offering. It didn’t even occur to him what he was doing, how invasive it might be, how wrong he normally would have felt. All he knew is that it felt like licking at the thing he’d been craving for so long and he was helpless to chase after it.

Sweetheart. It came easy as breathing now, teeth sunk into your consciousness from where you stood across the room. You whirled on him again, another flood of warmth hitting him deep as you leaned your hip against the counter you were standing next to and focused on him. What’s got you so worked up?

He couldn’t even consider how bold he was suddenly being, the fear that he might ruin this friendship well out of his grasp. Especially when your embarrassment spiked along with the want, the pool of warmth now suddenly coming to life to have a heartbeat of its own. Your eyes widened, shifting on your feet again as you broke eye contact. It only took a few moments before you couldn’t help but look back at him again. The buzzing settled further, now like a purr beneath his skin. It was bearable as long as you kept your eyes on him.

You wanna do something about it?

thanks for reading, please reblog and leave a comment if you liked it!

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson blurbs #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #myos ideas #vampire!Eddie munson #kas!eddie munson #myo4munson

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gorgeouslypink · 10 months

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The Illusion of Method (My AP "Guide")

Hey guys! I'm so sorry that I've been behind on finishing up my masterlist but I've been really busy. I was having a conversation with my friend @junfairykyu and I remembered this post and she said it really helped her and urged me to share it with you guys too! This post is to help people AP (astral project) but the same concepts apply for the void. I hope this helps everyone.

original link: here

Hello there,

In this post I want to share an epiphany I had a few months ago regarding astral projection which changed my approach to it completely. Once I understood what I am about to explain, the amount of OBEs I had completely skyrocketed, to the point I can astral project on demand. I later found I could apply the same rule to lucid dreaming, and I started to enjoy countless conscious dreams. So this is the story of how I got to the "core aspect" of astral projection, the key to induce it effortlessly on demand. I will start by explaining the conditions whereby I came to this "truth" or "top method", and then I will develop it a bit more to ensure that its understandable. I I hope you guys enjoy the post and benefit from it. That being said, let's start!

I have been having OBEs for a few years now. A few years in which I tried many astral projection techniques, and while some of them seemed to work better than others, I always had one single desire that obsessed me to the core: I wanted to understand what was the root technique, i.e. that background cause, shared by all fruitful OBE strategies, that actually separated consciousness from the body. You know, the skeleton of all techniques. It was the deepest of my fixations, and I was compelled to find out the answer to that, I knew there was a core method, it was undeniable: if many different techniques lead to the same results, then there was for sure some hidden and shared dynamic that, if emulated over and over again, it would always produce Out of body experiences.

But it was really hard at first to understand what this hidden method was, because I was conditioned by my own results. What do I mean by this? Well, if only one technique worked for me, then it would be easy to assume "oh, that's the true and only method". But I had successful results with a wide variety of techniques, so different from each other: from tactile visualization, up to affirmations and pure desire, the ear ringing technique (using the ear buzzing sound to project) , the WBTB and many others. The challenge was in finding the single thing that united such different techniques. It seemed almost impossible!

You see, at first I thought imagination was a core aspect, but I rapidly discarded that, because many techniques dispensed with imagination. So then, imagination wasn't necessary. I kept discarding things just like that, trying to reach the substratum. I eventually thought it was pure intention, pure desire. This made sense to some extent, because all techniques required you to think actively about projection, whether you do this by imagining you project, or state it via affirmations, or whatever. It seemed like I succeeded with stripping away everything unnecessary. But then I had an spontaneous projection, which messed it all up. Not that it was the first spontaneous OBE in my life. In fact, I had a few of those during my career as an astral traveller. I was just ignoring them. Pretending that they were not there. Right when i thought astral projection had to do with a burning desire or intention, I realized that some OBEs dispensed with intention completely.

I was so obsessed with finding the key to astral projection in those OBEs I induced myself, that I was screening out those that happened involuntarily. I don't know why, but I guess it made more sense to find the how-to in the techniques rather than in...and then my mind went silent. I reached something important: a point of no-return. I realized something embarrassing: I had the answer in front of my eyes, but I kept pretending there was a hidden solution. But via spontaneous projections, the message was clear: it is not that those "spontaneous" projections weren't induced by me. NONE of my projections were induced by me! Its almost as if my unconscious was trying to tell me, via spontaneous projections, something like; "hey! its me who does it, not you".

At that point I understood the following: there is no method. We can't induce out-of-body experiences, nor lucid awareness in a dream. We don't really know how it is that the projection of consciousness occurs, or how lucidity pops up. We just get to experience it under certain conditions. All we do, really, is asking for projections to occur, while meeting the most optimal conditions for them to occur. That's the reason why spontaneous projections are kinda unconfortable for many and we try to screen them out, because they are trying to tell us about the illusion of method, and we as humans need to cling on a certain "how to", believing we are responsible for phenomena to occur. But we aren't. It is "something else" (the unconscious, the higher self, or whatever you want to call it) who kicks you out of your body, or triggers lucidity while dreaming. And when it occurs naturally, we try to understand how we did it, instead of realizing it isn't something we did, and thus opening ourselves to that same gift.

When I understood that, I began to do the following (the "no-method" method), and it ALWAYS works: I just lie down in the morning (to ensure that I don't fall asleep), close my eyes and simply ask this "unconscious" or whatever it is, to induce an OBE for me. And then I evoke this feeling of TRUST. I trust him, I trust that it will do the rest for me, because I understand that every time my consciousness escapes my body, it is this kind of higher consciousness or being who does it, not me. And this feeling of trust is the way to get rid of responsibility; in giving away this need for control and responsibility for the experience to occur, you also get rid of anxiety, fear and other emotions that boycott the outcome. So then, i just allow myself to drift with that feeling of peace, KNOWING that it will happen and I don't have to worry about it. Every time I do this, I get an amazing out of body experience. I just ask "the universe" to induce an OBE, and allow it to do its job. This same "method" (now you see why I refer to it as the illusion of method: you really don't do a thing) also applies to lucid dreaming: I just allow my higher self or unconscious mind or whatever to trigger lucid awareness for me, and go to sleep happily, knowing that it will happen.

To sum up, the answer is not in the techniques. All techniques are rituals we create to convince ourselves that we are the architects of the out of body experience, but we aren't. By acknowledging the one who DOES induce these kind of experiences, we get ourselves out of its way, we allow it to do its job and our emotions and feeling of responsibility no longer boycott the results. It is quite weird, even ironic to some extent, but it is also a relief in some way. You realize that you were never doing it wrong, because you can't do it. None of us have the supernatural power to separate consciousnesses from their bodies, its absurd. That being said, allow yourself to experience the OBE state, trusting your inner mind, knowing it will do this for you.

Exempt yourself from this responsibility and enjoy!

UPDATE: If you enjoyed the approach given in this post or found it useful, I am excited to announce that I just released an AP book on Amazon called "The Illusion of Method", which is an in-depth expansion of this guide: https://www.reddit.com/r/AstralProjection/comments/pc3ipt/my_ap_book_the_illusion_of_method_is_available_on/?utm_medium=android_app&utm_source=share

#void state

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dayumbxxch · 2 months

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Spoiled Memories

Chapter two

The clicking of shoes on tile fills the halls of Smith's Grove. A young 22 year old with dull eyes follows behind Delores, learning what to do at her new job.

The hushed lunchroom made Y/N heart race; even though she knew none of the patients were paying her any attention she couldn't help but feel self conscious.

Y/N's eyes glaze over as she mindlessly follows the older woman. Life had become dull and meaningless ever since she'd lost her brother. So she began to let her mind drift throughout the day to happier times. It had cost her a few jobs and almost a car crash once but she left more alive in her mind.

"-ey!"

"What were you saying?"

"We have to go down the hall to deliver the food to the ones that have to stay in their rooms."

Nodding the girl follows behind her mentor, the hallway was pin-drop silent. "These patients are deemed as hazards or themselves..or to others." Delores's voice dropped near the end while glancing towards a door they had passed.

Her lunch break approached rather quickly, leaving the break room Y/N began ease dropping on a conversation while grabbing a soda.

"So how's the new girl?" "Weird she doesn't really say anything. She just stands there silent and shit."

Hearing enough Y/N turned on her heel and walked back into the break room. Throughout her years of being a recluse she learned not to care about anything really.

She was here for money to find her brother. That was all she wanted ever since he went to jail and she was moved to a different foster home.

"So have you met the boogeyman yet?"

"Um..no I don't think I have"

Y/N's new coworker began a strange story.

"So there was this boy in a town near here in haddonfield. And one day after the years of bullying and torment he snapped and killed his sister, a kid from his school, and his step dad. So he was brought here when he was just ten years old. His mom came to see him every week. Then he snapped again killing a nurse right after the doctor stepped out of the room. His mom tired of it all shot herself dead. And in the next room was her daughter the boogeyman's little sister Laurie. Now he rots away in his room and he smells terrible. He looks homeless and has really greasy hair."

The boy described rang an unforgotten bell in Y/N head. "What was his name?" The woman spun around a clipboard from beside her.

Michael Myers

Y/N's heart skipped a little her golden childhood friend had murdered a bunch of people; he's now in the Sanitarium she just started working at. "I'm Isabella by the way!" "Y/N."

"Elvis I'm home!" A beaten up looking Russian Blue cat jumped at the sound of the front door opening. "Hey honey are you hungry~" Sitting her keys down Y/N picks up her beloved pet and walks him over to the kitchen.

The move wasn't awful since she didn't have much to unpack it only took a couple of hours. Elvis had gotten used to the new house already and even started exploring outside.

Y/N's life continues as dull as normal even with her late night runs to calm her mind before bed. Everyday seemed to be a repeat of the last. It had only been a week but it felt like a month. The shifts went by slow and her home time with Elvis went by fast.

As usual Y/N begins her day staring off into nothing while sitting in bed. A loud alarm jolts her out of her dazed state, she makes her way to the bathroom.

After doing her usual eyeliner to bring some attention to her e/c eyes instead of the ever darkening circles around her eyes.

The drive to work was the usual forty-five minutes filled with hard rock playing to keep her awake.

"Hey Isabella." Her voice was barely audible but her newly found friend understood her perfectly. "Hey hon how's it going?" The blonde sets an energy drink in front of Y/N as she drinks her own. "Since you're now working the early shift you get to meet the man, the myth, and the legend, Michael Myers and his little pal Dr. Loomis."

Y/N rolls her eyes while chugging her drink quickly. Tears prick her eyes from the carbonation, blinking them away she stands up and follows her friend.

"So he's the usual creep. He stares and stands there until you leave. He likes OJ and that's about all we know about him. Don't give him anything remotely sharp he has special silverware that will bend if he tries to stab anyone with it."

Y/N bites the inner part of her lip and Isabelle picks up on her silence. "You'll be fine. The man has got to eat." She says while handing her a tray. "Him and Dr. Loomis are in there." She uses her head to motion towards two doors.

"Go" Y/N gets pushed towards the double doors and gulps while the guards let her inside. Not saying a word she sets Michael's tray on the table. Y/N's eyes flicker towards the huge man and her breath escapes her. She'd briefly met eyes with the man in the mask.

"Thank you ma'am you may go. Now Michael can you look back at the picture please?"

A heavy feeling settled in Y/N's stomach, she'd always had a knack for feeling people's stares.

"Michael?... Michael!"

"Ma'am could you please come back here for a moment?"

#michael myers x reader #michael myers #x reader #fem reader #slasher x reader #halloween

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ohtobeleah · 7 months

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Gift of The Gab // Bradley Bradshaw

Summary: Throat Cancer. It’s never the way Rooster thought he’d go out. But when he does—he gets to give Jake a piece of his mind.

Warnings: Throat Cancer. Mentions of suicide. Mentions of death. Bradley Bradshaw x Platonic!reader. Afterlife lore. Death.

Word Count: 2.1k

Author Note: Day Seven of Whumptober. Prompt I chose: Flatline. Thank you to @ailesswhumptober for the prompt list. This is also apart of the Life After Death Series

Bruises Masterlist | Whumptober Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Name: Bradley Bradshaw. Age: 60. Cause of Death: Aggressive Throat Cancer.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

“Get me a crash cart in here!!” There are distinct differences between male and female brains. Female brains tend to have a larger hippocampus, which usually makes them better at retention and memory. “He’s coding!”

“Jesus what the hell happened here?” Male brains however, have a bigger parietal cortex, which helps when fending off an attack. Male brains confront challenges differently than female brains. Women are hardwired to communicate with language, detail, empathy.

Men? Not so much.

“He was fine five seconds ago! Dammit he’s flatlining.” But that doesn’t mean they aren’t any less capable of emotion. They can talk about their feelings. It’s just that…..

Most of the time—they’d really rather not.

***~***~***~****~***

It wasn’t uncommon for Bradley Bradshaw to wake up in an unknown environment. Over the years he’d made quite the reputation for himself amongst the young, dumb and hopelessly ignorant badge bunnies that would saunter into the Hard Deck. He never saw a reason to settle down, find the love of his life, create a family, grow old with someone. Everyone Bradley Bradshaw had ever cared to care about had left him in some way shape or form.

But a name Rooster never thought would be added to that ever growing list of people who had left him behind, was Jake fucking Seresin.

“Fuck—“ Bradley groaned as he rolled over onto his back, he could feel the draft coming up between his legs as he did. The hospital gown that was tied together in the back by three little bows did nothing to keep his broad shoulders, back, and ass covered.

Across the way—Jake was busy in the horse pen trying his best to train one of the wild brumbies that hung around more often than not. He’d been trying for a few days. It wasn’t easy, but it was honest work that kept his mind at ease.

“Easy boy—easy.” Jake cooed as he approached the gentle giant that had become used to his presence. “I’m just here to help.” He mumbled as he approached the horse he affectionately referred to as Simon the stallion. “We’re just gonna hang out.”

Bradley sat up with a groan, he could feel the air in his lungs that he hadn’t been able to feel in what felt like an eternity. When he reached up to touch the port that he’d had in his neck for months to find that it was gone—Bradley couldn’t have been more confused if he tried to be.

Where was he? Why did he feel thirty years younger? Why was he not in his hospital room with the blonde nurse he really liked? And—hold on a minute….is that? Is that Jake fucking Seresin?

Bradley would never forget the day he walked into Jake's home and found him unresponsive. Seeing one of his closest friends lying there without conscious thought. It was one of the worst days of his life, nestled between losing his mum and dad. Jake's death affected everyone in all sorts of ways that couldn’t begin to be unpacked in a far too expensive therapy session.

So—as a long drawn out beep rang out in Rooster's mind, the sound of his heart monitor flatlining, he stood and made strides to where Jake stood trying to gain the horse's trust. Ass on display and all.

He never spoke to anyone ever about Jakes suicide, he never spoke about how it made him feel or acknowledged any of the trauma that came alone with seeing one of his best friends dead in his bedroom. Bradley thought with time Jake would be alright, he didn’t know how much he was truly suffering because Jake never spoke about it. He never spoke about your death and how you died. He never spoke to anyone besides himself in the depths of the night.

Where no one could see just how much he missed you.

Jake saw the man he’d left behind all those years ago in favour of reuniting with the love of his life coming towards him like a brick shit house. Jake couldn’t say he regretted doing what he did though—but he missed Bradley, every day. They were close, but he wasn’t you.

“Shit—“ This was the reunion Jake had been dreading the most. “Sorry pal, looks like our session’s just been cut short.” It was only as Jake was jumping over the wooden fence that Bradley took off into an all out sprint in Jake's direction. “Bradshaw! What the hell—Oof—“

“YOU MOTHER FUCKER!” It was as painful as it was laced in spiteful anger. A rage that had burned in the depths of Bradley Bradshaw’s heart for years and years and years. He didn’t look a day older than when Jake had last seen the mustache clad aviator. “WHY DID YOU DO THAT? HUH?” Rooster laid as many punches as he could get in into the friend he hadn’t seen in years—getting out all his built up aggression.

Maybe it was the past that was talking, screaming from the crypt telling Bradley to punish Jake for things he never got to do. It was his way of justifying his anger.

“Rooster! Stop man—“ Jake shouted back as he tried to wriggle his way out of this situation. “Would you cut it out! You don’t have any pants on!! Get off of me!”

“YOU KILLED YOURSELF!” Rooster huffed as he dismounted from the wingman he hadn’t seen in over two decades. “You coward, I always thought you were stronger than me, but then I had my fucking fingers down your damn throat begging you to stay and I knew—I fucking knew you were the one who was full of chicken shit.”

“For someone who’s got the gift of the gab you sure do talk a hell of a lot of crap man! Get off me!” Jake wasn’t backing down. He could do this all day if need be. But he knew Rooster had a lot to get off his chest.

“Who’s dad yelling at mama?” Ellie asked as she watched her father swing a right hook into thin air.

“You remember the imaginary friends we spoke about, baby?” You cooed as you held your daughter's hand and walked across the expanse of the gravel drive across to the paddocks. “Well—I think another one of daddy's friends is here.”

“But I can’t see him?” Ellie frowned. She didn’t understand why she couldn’t see the people who had passed by your family farm. She wasn’t old enough to understand. But one day, one day you would tell her.

“Because this is one of mummy and daddy’s friends darling, it’s like how we can’t see your imaginary friends.” As you made your way over with your daughter hand in hand, Jake caught your eye. He knew the moment Bradley saw you he would understand.

“Bradshaw, your entire ass is hanging out for the whole afterlife to see.” You chuckled behind your hand as a heat so pure rushed to your cheeks. “Cute tattoo though, I always thought you had an ass tat but never got a chance to ask.”

“Hollywood?” Rooster nearly collapsed on the spot when he saw you, it had been so long yet you looked exactly like you did the last time he saw you. “Oh my goodness, I—“

“Could you maybe stop beating my husband up? He keeps the house from falling apart around us, I need him in one piece.”

“Husband?” Bradley turned back to where Jake stood dusting himself off. He caught the sight of a silver ring wrapped around his left ring finger. “You married Hollywood?”

“Of course I did, I died for her—I wasn’t not going to marry her.” At the very mention of the word death it all sunk in. You could see it plastered all over Roosters face—he was connecting the dots. “Bobs been through, so has Nat.” Bradley felt again at his throat for scars and staples that were no longer there. “What was it?” Jake asked softly, he knew it was always better to rip the Band-Aid off.

“Throat cancer—I think I flatlined, I just remember not being able to breathe and then I was here.” Bradley never thought he’d be one of those people who get some form of cancer. He didn’t smoke or do drugs. The most he ever did was drink and sometimes that could reach an excessive amount. Liver failure seemed more on brand for the Naval Aviator. Not throat cancer.

“I’m sorry Rooster, that must have been awful.” You really didn’t know what to say, because what do you say to people once they’ve died. Natasha didn’t want to believe it. Bob seemed scared, Rooster though? He was just angry.

“You were just gone—“ Bradley shrugged as he looked around the farm, amber orange from the mid afternoon sun made the fields look almost angelic. “You both took so much from me, I never saw a reason to love, to settle down, share my life with someone because I couldn’t put them through the experience of loss.” It made sense, but that was a heavy burden to carry. Jake wasn’t even sure he deserved to be the one to carry that load. “I saw what happened to the both of you and it scared me shitless, it made me so goddamn angry.”

“Rooster—“ You cooed softly as you approached him. “Honey what happened to Jake and I, it was an extreme case.” You tried your best to explain as you reached out to touch his cheek gently. Bradley leaned into the gentle touch of a woman he kept a picture of on his mantle piece, alongside Hangmans. “You know we love you, but it was our time.”

“Did you fight?” Jake asked as his daughter raced his way. Bradley watched as the man he’d known from the academy crouched to pick up who Bradley could only assume was his daughter. They looked the same in so many ways. But she was her own version of you too. “The cancer?”

The silence that fell over the four of you as you waited for Bradley to answer was heavy, you knew he knew that he was dead. You didn’t need to explain it. But in the silence you saw a man racing across the field—there couldn’t have been two Dagger deaths in the same timeframe could there?

“I wasn’t ready to die.” Be a man. People say it all the time. “I wasn’t ready, but I’m glad I got to tell you how much of a jerk you were for leaving us behind.”

“I’m sorry, but I couldn’t live without her Rooster—Hollywood, she’s everything to me, and after everything we went through? I never wanted her to be alone again, even in death.”

You watched as the man ran and ran and ran—he looked like Bradley, just a little less buff and sporting the same stupid mustache. He wore a smile so bright it could have broken his cheeks.

Your neighbour was Roosters dad, Goose, this entire time and you never even knew it.

“I can still hear the beep, that flatline on the monitor.” Bradley explained as he furrowed his brows. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to go back or not. “How do I stop it?”

“Just means that you can go back, if you want to, someone’s trying to bring you back.” It was probably the doctors and nurses handling the defibrillator, giving him rough but life saving chest compressions.

Be a man. But what does that even mean? Is it about strength? Is it about sacrifice? Is it about winning?

“I don't think I wanna go back.” Bradley sighed as he watched you make your way over to Jake and your little girl. The perfect mix of the two of you. God he was angry, he was still so mad at how things turned out the way they did. Why you both did what you did. But he’d get over it. He had to, he didn’t have a choice: Because the beeping had stopped. He’d flatlined.

“Bradley!” The man who Rooster had been trying to make proud ever since he was a little boy, called out as he ran. “Bradley! Is that you! My boy!”

Maybe it’s more simplistic than that.

Men have to know when not to man up. Sometimes it takes a real man to set his ego aside, admit defeat, and simply start all over again.

“Dad?”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

Whumptober Tags 🏷️ @xoxabs88xox @oldermenaremyreligion @slut-f0r-u @emma-is-cool @armydrcamers @topguncortez @topgun-imagines @kmc1989 @els-marvelvsp @blindedbythelightt

#whumptober #ailesswhumptober2023 #bruises // jake seresin #Bradley bradshaw Whump #bradley bradshaw angst #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #tw: throat cancer

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littlegreekhero · 2 months

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Tim Drake is so short it’s unrealistic: an explanation

In every single comic page featuring more than one adult, Tim is drawn exceptionally short (well Damian too but he’s still a pubescent boy) for mainly composition reasons, I think. You can’t really create a great standing composition with five heads at the same level so they exaggerate the difference. What does this leaves us with? A Tim in his late teens, at a whopping 5 foot and 6 inches of height (source: fandom wiki). This means he must be a certified short guy. Except, he kinda isn’t?

When he is shown with his peers he’s closer to the average height, like in YJ. So why do I think his stats are like this in fandom wiki or he’s drawn like that? I think editors and artists have never seen a teenage boy in their life and they think the younger the age the shorter the person is, linearly. My point is also supported by the fact that he doesn’t have adult proportions of a short person but an average person’s proportions, just shrunk down.

We are the same height for reference. The beginning of high school is the time for men to have their growth sprout and they all end up as their forever height by junior/senior. I’d argue that I’m not simply short-phobic and that artists seem to just ignore this phenomenon. Oh and his weight seems unrealistic considering his height-weight ratio and muscle mass so the second picture is possible to happen. You don’t need to be Kon-el to effortlessly pick that boy up.

So how tall do I think he realistically be? Closer to 6 foot. Because I think we’re ignoring the second greatest factor.

Wealth! He was raised rich, he was well fed during his developmental ages. Even if he had short height genes, his entire lifestyle would make him proportionally taller. There is VISIBLE difference in average heights in wealthy versus poor neighborhoods. Students notice that private school kids tend to be taller. Students (in my country) get weirded out once they realize historical figures that lived in hard times were way shorter than them. Unless he was an extreme case of picky eating, I’d say let’s add at least a few inches. His recreational activities also consisted of rich people stuff. The training he got, the amount of time he spent inside (probably playing games on powerful PC’s, not doing manual labor, not having a neighborhood friend group to run around with and stuff) not burning calories all played a role in the body he ended up with at adulthood. Yeah, he kind of did vigilante stuff since the age of 9, but at the end of the night it was Wayne Manor that he returned to.

BONUS: I think all batkids would have a different height when accounted for environmental factors, I just drew the four Robins to demonstrate

Jason: the wealth point that I defended earlier would work the opposite way for him, so why did i draw him the tallest? ✨growth juices✨ in the Lazarus Pit. I’m also not completely erasing their canon heights and body builds, and dude’s a hunk.

Dick: gymnastics makes you shorter. I thought this was a coincidence but apparently it’s real, especially in women’s gymnastics it’s very noticeable. He was trained since a very young age and did not stop practicing after he left the circus for apparent reasons.

Damian, at 14-15: He would hit his growth sprout a few months maybe a year later than his peers. Why? He’s Arab and even though I did no research on this, I think my experience as a Middle Eastern would account for a decent observation. But when he hits it, he would get noticeably taller EACH WEEK. I only attributed him a numbered height so I could show that he was close in height to his brothers. (Not related to height, but at his age he would have a massive nose with a sharp nose bridge, as it grows first, I remember many of my classmates were very self conscious about their noses in middle school)

#tim drake #batfam #dc comics #batfamily #dc robin #jason todd #dick grayson #damian wayne #red robin #dcu #timothy drake

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edosianorchids901 · 4 months

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Learning to Live

Ace Omens Hugfest 2024 prompt - "group hug"

Aziraphale tried very hard not to let out any audible noises as the tears fell. He didn’t feel entirely self conscious about the tears. It had been an awfully difficult day, after all, and he’d learned long ago that sometimes it was necessary just to cry for a few seconds before getting back to work.

But while he felt a bit like sobbing for a longer length of time, he refused to allow himself that much loss of control. It would make Crawley feel as if he needed to extend comfort, for one thing, and that would hardly be fair. His silent companionship was kindness enough.

And quite remarkable, at that. Aziraphale marveled at it, which proved a very nice distraction from his guilt. Crawley had come out here to sit with him, to ensure he was okay. And he’d stayed.

He’d broken Aziraphale’s fall, really. Softened the landing. And now, the world didn’t feel nearly as overwhelming, the consequences as dire. It was almost too good to be true.

“Did you mean it?” Aziraphale asked.

Crawley didn’t look at him, still just gazing steadily over the water. “Hmm?”

“That I wouldn’t like Hell. I-I mean, it’s Hell. I don’t suppose anyone is supposed to like it.” Was that rude? Aziraphale was a bit too rattled to be sure. “What I mean is… does it really matter to you, what I like?”

“Nh.” Crawley gave a tiny shrug. “Wouldn’t have encouraged you to eat if I didn’t think you’d enjoy it.”

“I did enjoy it.” So much more than he would have ever expected. Oh, he’d been curious about food, but he never thought he’d get the chance to sample some. “But do you really expect me to believe that the only reason you tempted—er, that you encouraged—me to try the food is that you thought I’d enjoy it? No nefarious motives?”

Crawley gave another tiny shrug. “‘Course I had nefarious motives. Everything I do is nefarious.”

Aziraphale pursed his lips, unconvinced by that. Crawley was quite excellent at playing the evil demon—but he wasn’t evil, not at all. “Was your nefarious motive, perhaps, related to wanting someone to share a ‘meal’ with?”

That got a reaction, albeit a subtle one. Crawley’s eyes darted to him for just a second. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Aha! I knew it.” Aziraphale found himself smiling, and feeling much less alone than he had a mere handful of minutes ago. And suddenly quite daring. “Would, um… would you by any chance be interested in doing it again? I was thinking, I never did try the wine…”

That got a full reaction. Crawley twisted to look at him, eyes wide behind the dark glasses. “Are you sure you’re ready for that, angel? Source of drunkenness and all that.”

“Oh, I don’t know. It’s only troublesome when consumed in excess.” Aziraphale tilted his head, trying his best to appear as if conflicted. Important to keep up the pretense, rather than to admit he’d quite happily do anything if it meant spending more time with Crawley. “It’s not strictly forbidden for angels to drink…”

“There you are, then.” Crawley gave a tempting little side to side sway. Aziraphale strongly suspected that the tempting was as much an act as his own reticence. They might have rather more in common than he’d initially assumed. “Let’s go. I know a little tavern that serves terrific cocktails, has good wine, and loads of different things to nibble.”

“Well, I suppose I can hardly resist an offer like that.” Aziraphale rose, and found that he was suddenly rather tired. Crawley too, moved slowly. Perhaps they were both a bit worn down by all that had happened. It would be nice to get away from here.

“Are you leaving, Bildad?”

Crawley jumped at the sudden call, and Aziraphale touched his arm lightly in reassurance before turning towards the girl. “Ah, Jemimah! Lovely to see you, my dear. Yes, Bildad and I are both off to… to…”

“Turn more people into animals?” Jemimah asked eagerly, looking at Crawley with wide eyes. “Can you do me again?”

A little smile tugged at Crawley’s lips. “Sorry, all out of time for changing people into animals today. My friend and I are on our way to cause chaos elsewhere.”

“You’re causing chaos,” Aziraphale corrected. “I’m merely… um…”

Friend. My friend and I.

Crawley considered him a friend? The thought of having a friend was so shocking that it left Aziraphale utterly speechless.

Crawley lifted an eyebrow. When Aziraphale just kept gaping at him, he turned back to Jemimah. “Right, so. See you around, kid. Keep making cool pots.”

He tried to step around her, and she blocked him. “You have to hug me,” she declared with a bright smile. “Both of you. Hugs are really important to keep everyone happy.”

“Oh, are they?” Aziraphale asked faintly. Perhaps that was what was wrong with him so often. He’d never been hugged before.

“Yep! Group hug!” She held her arms out.

Crawley took a step back. “No. Nonono. Demons don’t do hugs.”

“They’re important for happiness,” Aziraphale said, giving a little pout. An almost tempting pout, really. “And you wouldn’t want to disappoint the child, would you? Or me?”

Irritation tugged at the lines of Crawley’s face, and he hissed. But nevertheless, he stepped closer again. “Okay. Fine. Just make it quick.”

“Yay!” Jemimah threw her arms around both of them, hugging them close. Aziraphale instinctively curled an arm around her, then gave Crawley an inquisitive look.

Crawley still looked as if about to flee. But he gulped and reached out, briefly touching both Aziraphale and the child. Aziraphale put an arm around him too, and beamed.

“Right.” Letting go after a mere few seconds, Crawley wriggled out of the hug. “Let’s go. Come on, angel.”

“That was lovely, dear. Thank you.” Aziraphale smiled at Jemimah, and she giggled. “Bye, now.”

“Bye!” She waved to them both, and took off.

Aziraphale gave Crawley a sly look, enjoying the consternation on his face. “So. It seems demons do hug.”

“Oh, shut up.” Crawley set off, and Aziraphale fell in step beside him. “Just for that, I really am gonna get you drunk tonight.”

“You’ll have to do much better than that to tempt me, you old serpent.”

But not much more, really. Being tempted was really quite fun, and Aziraphale thought he might be able to get rather used to it. And perhaps, he could even get used to having a friend.

#good omens #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #jemimah #art #ace omens hugfest 2024

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iskratempestmadness · 2 months

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The characters of "Baki the grappler" and the language of love

Baki:

Touching

Baki is one of the most tactile characters. And it is also important for him that you also express your love physically. Hugs, kisses, holding hands, even just a pat on the shoulder will do for him. It's just that it's important for him to feel that you're with him and you're safe.

Hanayama:

Gifts

He is not mercantile. He is not a materialist. Oh no. It's just that, as I've told you before, it's difficult for him to express his feelings in words. He is also limited in his actions. And he can't spend the desired amount of time with you. But despite this, he really likes to put on your smile when he gives you another gift.

Katsumi:

Time or quality forwarding time

Oooh, it's hard to define his love language, but still he tends to do just that. And he appreciates it. From simple silence in each other's campaign to experiments and joint hobbies. Why this particular view? He likes the idea of your memories together. Definitely in old age, the phrase " Do you remember how we learned to surf together? Yes, you often fell off the board. Hehe, it was a funny sight... Maybe we should go to the sea again, don't you think? "

Jack:

Words

It's difficult for him. He would prefer to show his feelings by actions. But he understands perfectly well how important words are. For him and for you. Jack tries to compliment you, thank you for even the smallest things, say "I love you" before going to bed, and a lot of similar things. It really means to him that you know that he loves you. And don't forget to return the favor. This boy needs to be praised as often as possible, he deserves it.

Retsu:

Help

Retsu is a conscious person and he prefers to show his love not by word, but by deed. It's just more practical. And it's also a way to make sure that everything will be 100% fine with you and you won't have to strain yourself over trifles. Like you came home tired from work and didn't have time to clean the house? It's not a problem, because he's already done it, there's no point in straining. It is important for Retsu that you are happy and comfortable, so he will do everything to make your life easier.

Shibukawa:

Time

For him, time is a resource. You know, when people get older, they start to appreciate time more. So he shares with you what is valuable to him. And he likes it. Perhaps before you entered into a relationship, he directed this resource only to himself, and he could not think that sharing it could be so pleasant. He shares it with you... Almost all the time. From reading a book together to training.

Yujiro:

Words

Yes, you can't tell from him, but this. However, this love language is different from Jack's love language. No cute phrases, no compliments. For him, it's trivial. He starts giving you advice, voicing his thoughts about certain situations. Do you think that this is not enough? Look who it is. This is Yujiro Hanma. He was always on his own mind. And it is difficult for him to open up to another person, there is a feeling of insecurity. So this is for him a manifestation of love in the highest degree.

Doppo:

Touching

Yes, he has lived enough, but touching is still important to him. It's just that they make it easier to express emotions and feelings. Like, he starts to feel worried about you when something doesn't work out, so he'll hug you, pat you on the back and say a few encouraging words. And reciprocity is also important for him, because there is nothing better than to return from training and receive affection from his beloved.

Olive:

Gifts

Well, what else? He likes to give gifts. And not just gifts, but the BEST gifts. Look, he has enough money to do this. So everything is most dear to you. And he loves your smile when you get them. She will always remain in his heart. And Oliva does not require gifts in return, your sincere reaction is really enough for him. However, he wouldn't mind accepting something made by your hands.

Shiba:

Touching

This guy just loves you so much that he can't keep his hands to himself. You are always happy with him, and his hands are always on you. In private, he won't let you out of his arms, in public, his hand is chained to your waist. And despite the appearance, Shiba is gentle, he is certainly ready to give you his love, but he also wants to receive something in return. Even a crumb will be enough for him. Just straighten his clothes or give him tired shoulders and it will make him shine.

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pensat-i-fet · 9 months

Text

Too good for you (Rúben Dias x Reader)

**Welcome to an imagine that wasn’t requested but that was inspired by one of my dreams (but then I really only kept a tiny detail from the dream). This is a bit spicy, a bit angsty, also slightly toxic and everyone (but Kepa, who has a little cameo because the one in my dream was Juan Mata and how random is that?) is an asshole. But I think it’s fun! It was one of those where I let the story go where it wanted to go. I didn’t choose any of this. The story chose its own path and that’s cute. Enjoy! ❤️**

Word count: 4030

Masterlist

Wattpad

Another day, another photoshoot. But this one was pretty special. You had worked for Armani before, walking their show and doing some catalogue work for them. But this time it was a campaign they wanted you to be a part of and that was huge for your career. And the paycheck was going to be pretty decent too.

Also, you were shooting with a football player so you knew that your work was going to get a lot more exposure because of his presence. And it was a player you actually knew, which could make the shoot pretty interesting. Whether it’d be in a good or a bad way was to be determined.

"Come here for a sec so we can double-check it all fits nicely".

"Sure", you said, following the stylist. "Is the player here already?"

She looked at you with a knowing look. "No, he's a bit late. Traffic is pretty bad".

"Cool. We'll wait then".

Fittings were done quickly and so you moved to hair and makeup. The look was pretty natural so that was done quickly but with it being an underwear shoot, the makeup artists had to make sure to apply makeup all over your body. And it was while they did it that Rúben showed up.

"Hello everyone, sorry I'm late".

His voice made you look up from your phone. Rúben looked you up and down and for a second you felt a bit self-conscious standing in front of him, and a crew of 20 people, in just a thong and a bra. As if he hadn't seen you in less.

While he was getting ready for the shoot, you put on a robe and sat down next to him.

"I thought you wouldn't make it".

"Bad traffic. I wish I had gotten here early. I might have volunteered to do your body makeup".

"Of course you would have".

"Do you want to do mine?", he whispered.

"I want to be home before midnight so hurry up".

"By home, you mean your place or mine?"

Rolling your eyes, you got up to check if there was something nice you could eat. Catering at these shoots was usually pretty good if you got to the table before all the good food was taken and only the dry carrot sticks were left.

"You didn't tell me you knew him", said your agent.

"I don't know him. I know what's in his jeans. It's different".

"Is it going to be an issue?"

"Why should it be?"

"I don't want you to mess up this big opportunity. Who knows how your career could develop after this".

Yeah, and you want the commission that comes from big-money jobs like this one.

"I won't mess up".

"How did you even meet him? I thought your friend played for Chelsea".

"At a party. It doesn't matter".

Yes, your friend played for Chelsea. But he had nothing to do with you meeting Rúben. As you said, that happened at a party. You didn't even recognise him at first. You just noticed a hot guy approaching your friend group and decided to start dancing with him before Gina, who had been staring at him all night, could do it first. Your friend group also consisted of people you didn't like that much. It was a fashion industry thing.

"Do I look good?"

Rúben was now next to you, wearing the underwear picked for the first few photos you needed to take. And yeah, he looked alright.

"As if you need me to tell you how good you look. You already tell yourself every morning when you look in the mirror".

"Is being confident a sin?"

"No", you said, getting closer to him. "Being arrogant is".

"Then we're both sinners".

"Sinning can be fun".

"It's fun when I do it with you".

That last sentence was whispered in your ear and you had to try hard not to blush. So you left him to go get changed into your first outfit.

"Wow! You don't need me to tell you how good you look either but I will".

You turned your hips slightly, letting him see how good you really looked while you pretended to adjust your panties with one of your hands, making sure Rúben's eyes followed your movements. "I mean, anything is an improvement from the skin colour thong I had to wear for fittings and hair and make-up. Least sexy piece of underwear you'll ever see. This", you said, pointing at your current outfit, "is a lot better, right?"

The way Rúben stared at you gave you all the answers you needed. "Believe me, seeing you in your underwear is always a pleasure. No matter the colour or design. But this…", he was now touching the little piece of lace that adorned the sides of the panties you were wearing. "Can you keep the clothes you wear at shoots?"

"Not usually but I think with underwear is different so maybe I get lucky".

"I'm feeling very lucky at the moment", he muttered, still staring at the fabric he had touched.

The photographer interrupted the moment, asking you to actually do your job. How inconvenient. And so you and Rúben moved to the shooting area and listened to the ideas the photographer had for the shoot.

You had actually been excited to shoot with Rúben. First, because you thought his look complimented yours really well. Sometimes you were paired with male models that looked so odd next to you but you and Rúben looked great together. Then there was the fact that you already knew him, which meant you were a bit more comfortable doing a more intimate shoot like this one. And of course, you wanted to see him. He mentioned you texting him if you visited Manchester but you had been travelling a lot and didn't get to see him in person ever since that party in Lisbon.

You also expected your chemistry to be good. At the party, you two connected immediately and felt incredibly comfortable in each other's company the whole night. So this should have been the same. But Rúben seemed to be struggling a bit.

"What's wrong?", you asked him during a small break.

"Well, it's a bit challenging to be this close to you while you wear almost nothing, you know?"

"Control the hormones, Dias. You're acting like a horny 15-year-old. Though I guess men never get over that stage. At least not mentally".

The pieces from the collection were stunning but a few were very impractical. Putting them on felt like you were doing a puzzle. And you could only imagine how difficult it would be to take them off, especially in specific situations where you'd be in a hurry to get rid of the underwear. But they did look good.

"Can somebody help me?", you called and heard the curtain move just seconds later.

You didn't even turn, used to random people helping in those situations. "I can help with that".

"Rúben, you shouldn't…".

"Shh".

You could feel his finger untangling the straps and doing the clasps. But before you could turn to face him, he bent down to kiss the side of your neck. When his hands went to your hips, you forgot for a second where you were and just leaned back into his touch. But a noise made by the crew startled you and you separated from Rúben quickly.

"We're working. We can't…".

But he wasn't listening anymore. He just grabbed your face so he could kiss you and you barely allowed him to touch your lips.

"My makeup. How am I going to explain it being smudged?"

"Are you wearing any?"

"Are you serious? Of course I am".

He leaned forward, impossibly close to you, and stared at your eyes. It was hard to keep eye contact but you managed. He then moved to your lips and smiled. "Yeah, I guess I can see a bit of product there. But it can be reapplied, right?"

"Stop it", you said, pushing him away from you and leaving the changing area.

Yeah, you could understand now what he meant by the shoot being challenging. But you were professional and a couple of hours later, you heard the magical words it’s a wrap.

“Where are you staying?”

The voice startled you and you held onto the shirt you were buttoning up for dear life. “Rúben! You can’t come inside. I’m getting changed”.

“I just spent 3 hours with you by my side wearing the smallest underwear I’ve ever seen in my life”.

“Really? You need to go out more”.

He rolled his eyes, before staring at your bare legs. “Besides, I’ve already seen everything there was to see”.

“It doesn’t mean you can see it again”.

“Not even if I say please?”

This time, you let him get closer and kiss you. And of course, you left with him. Much better than going back to the hotel.

Back in London, you continued working non-stop. The Armani campaign was about to be released and some other brands wanted to work with you before that.

And for the second time in a month, you got to work with someone you knew well. But this time it wasn’t Rúben, but your friend Andrea.

“I love your hair”, she said the moment she saw you.

“Thanks. I had to cut it for a job but I’m really into this style”.

“Looks amazing on you”.

Catalogue shooting wasn’t the most thrilling part of being a model but it was pretty simple. And the crew you were working with was always fun to be around. So when it was time for a break, you all ordered food and chatted about everything and nothing while eating.

“Are you free this weekend?”, asked Andrea while you were getting ready to carry on shooting.

“I think so. Why?”

“Kepa has this event and I can’t go so we thought you could go with him. It’d be good for networking and all that”.

You met Kepa after working with his wife Andrea and became really good friends with both of them. It wasn’t the first time he had invited you to an event but…it was usually events that Andrea was attending too.

“I don’t know if it’s the best idea. I’ll be there as what? Your husband’s companion? What if people start to make up rumours?”

“It doesn’t have to be weird. Plus, it’s a very informal event. There might not be any press there at all and there is no need to dress up. It’ll be fine”.

“I’ll think about it”.

And that you did. Andrea kept sending you info and it really was a great opportunity to network. Also, the topic for the event sounded very interesting so you really wanted to go.

That’s how you found yourself arriving at the venue with Kepa by your side.

“Are any of your teammates attending the event too?”

“Why? Are you interested in any of them?”

“Kepa…stop. We’ve had this conversation before and no, I don’t like any of your teammates. None of them is my type”.

“You’ll break their hearts”, he laughed.

Kepa was busy talking to some people he knew so you decided to walk around saying hello to everyone. And that was when you saw him.

“What are you doing here?”

Rúben turned when he heard your voice and a big smile appeared on his face when he saw you standing in front of him.

“I was invited to the event. You?”

“I’m here with my friend”.

The word friend made him frown. “Another model?”

“No. Actually, another footballer”.

Rúben started to look around until his eyes fell on Kepa, the only other player that was currently there. “Him?”

“Yes, he’s my friend. Any problems?”

“You can do better than him”.

You laughed, not believing what you were hearing. “He’s married to my friend. We’re just friends, you idiot”.

“Is she here too?”

“No, she’s busy today. That’s why I’m here”.

“Big boy Kepa can’t go to places alone? Does he need you to babysit him?”

“Have you always been an asshole or am I just noticing? Don’t speak like that about my friend”.

Spotting Kepa, you left Rúben standing alone, staring at you while you walked towards your friend. His eyes never stopped following you around the venue and you could tell. But you avoided him.

Rúben kept trying to get your attention but you pretended not to notice and it was driving him insane. So when it was just you and Kepa standing next to the food, he decided to go introduce himself.

“Hey there, mate. Nice seeing you here”.

Kepa stared at him. They had never interacted outside of the pitch. “Sure. This is my friend…”.

“I know who she is”.

Kepa looked at you, frowning. So you had to clarify the situation for him. “Rúben and I did a shoot together recently. You’ll see it soon”.

“Right”, laughed Kepa. “Well, good to see you too. We gotta go…”.

“Maybe we could chat for a second”, he said, looking at you.

“Maybe I want to go with Kepa instead of chatting”.

Kepa kept looking from you to Rúben and then back, not understanding anything that was happening but if you wanted to leave, he was going to help you.

“She’s right. We need to leave now before my wife gets back home”.

When Rúben saw Kepa grab your hand to lead you to the door, his jealousy grew even more. “You have to make sure you finish before she gets back?”

Hearing that, Kepa let go of your hand immediately and before he had time to say anything, you had already slapped Rúben’s face.

“Don’t you ever insinuate something like that about me”.

Kepa had two options. Following you or copying your actions and slapping Rúben too. But even if he would have loved to do the same as you, he chose to follow you since people were getting closer to see what was going on. And his team had enough dramas to worry about.

"What was that about?"

"I would like to know too".

"Did he bother you at that shoot? You could complain to the brand or something. And if he's harassing you…".

"Kepa, I appreciate you worrying but it's nothing like that. I…I met him at a party a while ago and we hooked up. And then we met at the shoot and hooked up again. But I don't know, he was acting like a jealous boyfriend or something. And saying that about us…who does he think he is?"

"You were right to slap him. I wish I could have done the same".

You shook your head. You weren't an aggressive person. Actually, you avoided conflicts as much as you could. But hearing Rúben say that was too much. You couldn't not react.

Kepa invited you to stay over for dinner and you were a bit wary to say yes until you saw Andrea was back. She was fuming when she heard what had happened.

"Well, the good thing is you don't have to see him again".

"Actually…", her words made you realise you had to see Rúben again. Very soon. "We need to do an event to promote the campaign. I can't say no, Andrea. It's the biggest job I've ever done".

"You have to go", said Kepa. "Don't let him affect your career. Just pose with him for the red carpet or whatever and then you can stay away from him".

"Yeah, I'll do that".

But it was easier said than done.

Rúben had tried his hardest to apologize. He didn't even know what got into him to talk to you like that. Well, he knew. Jealousy. But what right did he have to be jealous?

Still, he apologized on social media and even sent flowers to your agency. But got no response from you.

"This is what he'll wear", said the stylist, bringing the suit Rúben would wear to the event. "So we have to pick something that goes well with it".

You tried ten different outfits and none pleased the Armani team. But then you spotted a little black dress that no one had looked at.

"Can't go wrong with an LBD, right?"

They turned to see you holding the dress and one of the stylists shrugged. "Might as well see how it looks on. With those long legs of yours, it should look fine".

So you tried it on and it fit like a glove. The exposed back and the length gave it the sexy touch the brand wanted. You were promoting underwear not coats. But the front was more conservative, so it was sexy but still classy.

They paired it with some black heels and someone put your hair up in a messy bun to see how the neckline looked. You looked absolutely perfect. And you couldn't help but smirk thinking how it was going to drive Rúben insane.

But the first person you saw at the event wasn't Rúben, it was Gina.

"Hiii! Oh my God, you look gorg!"

Her smile was so fake, you feared she would get a migraine from the pressure on her jaw.

"I know".

"And you got to work with that hottie you slept with that one time. Where is he? Still single, I guess".

"I guess. But he told me he doesn't like obnoxious blondes so maybe don't waste your time".

"You're always such a bitch!"

"Not always, Gina. You just bring out the worst in me. Such a talent!"

Everyone was getting ready for the red carpet and it was then that you finally saw Rúben. He stood next to you but didn't even acknowledge you. Was he for real?

Once on the red carpet, he turned quickly to look at you and placed his hand on the small of your back. Your bare back. It was easier for you to just smile at the camera even if you didn't feel like it but he managed to do it as well.

You kept turning to show your outfit, placing your hands on his arms, shoulders or even chest.

"Stop moving", he whispered. His hand never leaving your back.

"I'm just doing my job. But nice to know the cat didn't get your tongue. Or were you just waiting to talk until you could accuse me of being a homewrecker again?"

"I messed up and I tried to apologize".

"Try harder".

The photographers thanked you and you started to walk away from the carpet, knowing Rúben was right behind you. When you turned your head to see him, you could see the way he stared at your body. He noticed you looking at him so we walked faster to catch up with you.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say something like that. I don't even know why I did".

"It was a very disgusting thing to say about someone you barely know".

"Again, I'm sorry. Please, let's pretend it didn't happen".

"Hi! Ruben right?", hearing Gina's voice, you closed your eyes to try to get rid of any murderous feelings.

"Yeah. Do I know you?"

She was now looking at you. "Be nice and introduce your friend".

"Who's the friend? You?"

Her fake laugh made you cringe. "She's so funny. Hi! I'm Gina".

"Rúben. Are you a model too?"

Oh God… "No silly, but do you think I could be one?"

"She's just an influencer who follows anyone with over 10k followers on Instagram around. If you slept with her, the whole country would know before you even finish".

Seeing Rúben's face made you laugh. He looked so uncomfortable.

"We gotta go, G. Everyone wants to see the stars of the event".

"You're just the accessory. He is the star".

Now she was showing her true colours. "Better than being the one that got a pity invite".

After a couple of seconds, Rúben caught up again.

"Are you going to roast me too?"

"You would deserve it as much as she does. But if you want to be told how amazing you are, Gina will be here the whole night".

"I have to be with my fellow star".

"Not your accessory?"

"I don't think you'd ever allow anyone to treat you just like an accessory".

"No one should allow anyone to treat them like that".

The whole night you had to be paraded around telling people about the collection and just hearing over and over again how great the campaign was. You knew that already. The photos were everywhere you looked and they were terrific. You knew that photographer was good but seeing the results in front of you made you realise how truly lucky you were to work with her.

"Do you like them?"

"Yes. These will be on my showcard for fashion week for sure".

"What's that? The card, I mean. I know what fashion week is".

"It's this little card with a couple of photos and my measurements. I have to take them to castings to give to the casting directors so they have all my info if they decide to hire me for the job".

"Interesting".

"You could model when you retire from football, you know?"

Rúben raised an eyebrow. "I don't know. I feel ok taking my own photos but working with photographers is weird".

"They stop you from doing stupid poses so it might be weird but look at the result".

He would have said something about your insult but could just stare at your fingers drawing invisible lines over the photos. Your fingers moved along the lines his muscles created and you seemed hypnotized by what you were doing.

He leaned towards you so he could whisper in your ear. "You know you can touch the real me too if you want to, right?"

"And yet you only get to touch me in the photos".

"You sure?"

His hand was now back on the small of your back and he could see the goosebumps caused by his touch. After looking around to make sure no one was there, he leaned down to kiss your shoulder and you kept staring at the photos trying not to show a reaction to his touch. But also not moving away, craving more.

"What's your favourite photo of the campaign?", you asked, interrupting the kisses that were now getting closer to your neck. And you knew once the neck kisses started, it was game over.

Rúben looked around at all the photos. "That one".

You looked at the photo he pointed and it was one of you with your back to the camera. You were topless so your back was as exposed as it was at that moment and you couldn't stop smiling seeing the rest of the photo.

"Is it my beautiful profile you like?", you asked, copying the pose so he could see the profile twice.

"Sure. But that thong…that's the sexiest piece of lingerie I've ever seen and I've seen a few. And of course, it looks even better because it's you wearing it".

"Do you want to know a secret?", he nodded. "That's what I'm wearing tonight. They let me keep the whole collection".

"You're kidding".

"Shame you won't be able to find out if it's true or not".

You left the room but not before turning to see Rúben unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. Yes, you were driving him insane. And no, he wasn't going to find out if you were telling the truth or not. Should have thought twice before pissing you off.

After that event, Rúben tried to contact you but you ignored him. So he had almost given up. That was until he had to play against Chelsea. He obviously didn't make a great first impression in front of Kepa but perhaps they could talk, man to man, and fix that. So when the match ended, Rúben tried to find him quickly to talk to him with the excuse of needing to shake his hand after the match.

"So, your friend…".

"She's too good for you, brother. And you messed up and she doesn't give second chances. Sorry".

#ruben dias #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias one shot #ruben dias angst #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias x reader #footballer imagine #footballer one shot #footballer angst #footballer x y/n #footballer x reader

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saharaadesertt · 11 months

Text

˖˚˳⊹Blue Lock University: an Uni AU˖˚˳⊹

included: aiku, chigiri, gagamaru, kaiser, isagi, nagi, reo, rin, sae, shindou

note: already thinking about uni even though i still have two months LMFAOOO i am catching up on bllk and i finally made it to the different team battles. idk y'all manshine city kinda slaps all of these HC's are not official! check out part 2!

aiku

oh god, this guy gives off business major energy

most definitely in a frat, you can't prove me wrong

the kind of student that slacks off and parties all night but manages to do decent on exams and in class

not stellar but decent

insanely popular, gets all the girls but doesn't know how to keep them

the class clown

professors hate him so much but he does well enough where they can't lecture him

chigiri

Sports medicine major: wants to help people the way doctors helped him when he tore his acl

also oversees track and xc meets because of his speed

can be spotted at the cafe studying most of the time

likes to spend time to himself but doesn't mind seeing friends once in a while

but when he has a deadline he will focus on that 1000%

Everyone likes him, he gets good grades and is always very good with finishing things on time

His sister and mom visit him often, a family boy!

loves when people compliment his hair

gagamaru

Agricultural science or archeology major: mans is in the mountains constantly

probably does research there

a little bit of an oddball, mostly on the quiet end in class

that being said, he's an underdog in his class rank and always performs suspiciously well

people are scared of him because of his stoic aura but is a genuinely good person to get advice from and study with

if you get past his quirks, he's a great friend and an ever better person to depend on when you need it

kaiser

please hear me out

at first i thought "another business major but THEN"

i realized he could also be a really self-centered, full of himself STEM major

so i am going to say he is in computer science and thinks he is the true pioneer

honestly, the person that people complain about after class

tryhard and complains about getting a B on something

that being said, if you get on his good side, he is slightly more kind to you

isagi

kind of the same as kaiser but a psychology major, more popular, and much nicer lol

likes to study athletes and wonder if their personalities line up with how they play

a hard worker and studier, his weekends are rarely for rest

likes to go out though, he takes comfort in small things like visiting friends and grocery shopping

believe a healthy body is consistent with a healthy mind so is constantly health-conscious and drinks a ton of water

his parents send him care packages occasionally :))

nagi

this guy is undecided for now major-wise but will probably do something in video game development or digital communication

possibly cybersecurity if he actually wants to put in the work

lazy as hell but we knew this

constantly skips or sleeps in class but manages to do well

reo has to wake him up or call him if he has an early class he cannot miss or an exam or else nagi would legit miss it

isn't seen out much but when he is, he's with reo

fond of arcades, hoodies, and sweatpants

president of the gaming club and is surprisingly popular because of his gaming abilities

i believe him and reo share an apartment that the mikages help with financially because at this point nagi is like a second son to them <3

reo

another business major, this time marketing

president of the uni's business frat for sure

the definition of star student

everyone loves him but he only hold a few close to him because he knows a lot of people gravitate to him for his money

despite his family line, he is the most humble person you'll ever meet

super polite and respectful

he and nagi live in a shared apartment and only a select few friends get to come over

but when they do, reo shows them the best hospitality and above all, they actually study since he is a man of his word

rin

Definitely doing something in sports administration

the tryhard that is usually quiet, but piss him off and he WILL let you know

part of the school's podcast and newspaper club, where he works on reporting sports and talking to athletes

hates to be compared to his brother who is in the same major as him

gets jealous easily and finds it hard to keep a relationship because of this

communication is key for him in all aspects

sae

also sports adminstration

quieter than his brother but also has more attitude

enjoys being alone no matter where on campus he is in

but also popular

an ace student

is a part of a soccer travel team so is away a lot

drinks venti cold brews

shindou

biology... i don't need to explain LMFAOOOO

is VERY interested in all that stuff

actually a good student but is a class clown

doesn't take work seriously but does well enough

befriends everyone although he is a little unhinged

no filter at all

loves sugary coffee and staying up until the sun rises

would be part of the improv team bc he has a quick mouth and is quick thinking

thanks for reading!

#headcanon #blue lock #hc #blue lock headcanons #bllk #oliver aiku #gagamaru gin #gagamaru #nagi seishiro #seishiro nagi #reo mikage #mikage reo #isagi yoichi #michael kaiser #chigiri hyoma #itoshi rin #itoshi sae

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dilfhos · 7 months

Text

sooo this is gonna be a messy rant on the observations ive made between different writer communities, blog interactions and overall “status”. just silly little things I’ve noticed in my 4+ years being on tumblr btwn 2 diff blogs. and this is about no one specific, a very generalized post so if you find urself offended i honestly dont know what to tell you?? :o do better ig. & if you relate, i feel for you. TLDR @/end.

i dont like interacting/ building connections with people but not for the reasons ppl think. im not stuck up or pretentious or weird or anything. just another anime-enjoyer who loves to write in her free time. nobody special by a longshot!! i enjoy writing, always have since before i was a teen. (wasn’t always ff tho!).

but over the years ive just noticed fandom writing has its gritty sides that no one talks about often and its no mystery why so many prolific/ popular writers deactivated, me included. i had some shitty experiences and have seen friends go bc of it.

firstly, I’ve noticed, once you start interacting and building friendships with people, it’s easier to see the bigger perspective of where ppl stand and the blatant hierarchy of friendships and groups. same applies to that outside. like its literally just me n’ my bsf then my acquaintances bc mfs be weirddd omg its like cults or something. like thats why initially I didn’t interact w/anyone starting on my new blog. that n’ fear of drama following from my last blog ugh. ‘Cept the few i’ve met on my old blog (like my wifey)

not to mention i have bad anxiety. and sometimes im cue-deaf. i dont always pick up what people put down and vice versa and it makes me conscious in a lot of my interactions. so a part of me doesn’t want to interact at all to avoid all awkwardness and possible miscommunications. that’s not to say i don’t notice subtle changes in interactions after one situation / conversation or so forth, that in myself or witnessed between other ppl. (im perceptive, just not that good conversationalist lol. like i really have to try.)

but then…if you don’t interact with people on here, your chances of building an audience or a reader base is slim to none. the likelihood of developing relationships is zip. because you’re already perceived and pegged as just another tumblr writer. pause. to clarify, a writer who doesn’t want any recognition or interactions from mutuals or new friends. or just a lonely writer? a introverted, lonely writer. which leads to little to none interactions (anons, reblogs, moots —exposure.)

so then its like you’re kinda placed btwn a rock n a hard place. and there’s absolutely no problem with that! in fact this is the best part—meeting friends and like-minded people! people that make being online all the more worth it right? thirsting over fictional characters and sharing in each other’s works!

but you have to be in specific circles it seems. but then you can’t imply that you want to be in those circles bc then you’re desperate.

but well, then you cant purposefully want to be independent or be on your own or else you’re a hater, hypocrite or stuck up. not to mention, no one will reblog your stuff lol. no one will interact fr, and you’re friendless essentially. and god forbid if you disagree on something as if opinions don’t exist btw! then you’re being ganged up on. (like omg grow up!)

but then if you reach out you’re seen as trying to wedge in or kiss ass? you interact and follow and you’re ignored or left hanging? (bc im gonna touch your hand when i say this—it never gave fan, your majesty of horny nerds) and this is about ALL the writing communities and fandoms—spicy content, black content and dark content. ALL.

yet no one wants to talk about the pregnant elephant in the room—bias. and favoritism. also people seem to have a hard time being direct with how they’re feeling toward/about someone ( in a good or bad way) which in turn leads to a lot of miscommunication and subliminal attacks. (not to mention hate anons? one of my moots just had her inbox flooded w/them recently, ew.)

you can lead a horse to water AND you can write a 500-word essay on the observations made on tumblr writers as a whole. (a long ass post on the truth on behalf of those feeling this too)

also, slapping a HEY LOOK AT ME! IM A WRITER WHO WANTS INTERACTION AND FRIENDS! on a blog is frankly embarrassing. it shouldn’t even take all that seeing how easy it is for others wanting the same thing.

or doing less to achieve the same result.

not to mention, yall shit on ppl who essentially feel this way altogether bc you peg them as sb who doesn’t “try” or just jealous when their own works are phenomenally written themselves. ive seen it. and ive lived it. never gave jealousy baby.

at the end of the day, we’re all writers— either longterm or hobbyists. (personally, im longterm) self-indulgent or not! and its absolutely amazing when people are being fair in how they spread love and feedback to their writers.

Secondly, its not news that people have to want to reblog your fics so that their followers can reblog, so they can reblog, and their followers can reblog and so forth. but ppl honestly dont care atp bc once they’ve already read it, they owe you nothing. and apparently asking for reblogs is crass and bold. (imma do it anyway) but putting your very all into a story just to turn and see a half-thought out hc soaring 3k in 2hrs and 5k in a day — you have to stfu, open your ass and take it. keep it cute!

you’re getting fucked after all!!

because if you complain—you’re just jealous and lazy and uncreative!! and i hate that to seem like a writer worth a damn, you have to change up your writing style every two weeks to fit in with trending waves.

“no more poetic long fics, nobody’s into that! short, snappy slutty shots are all the rage!” “ppl are only into these specific tropes but you can’t exceed 2k words!” “only add trending characters to these hcs! ppl love them only!” “don’t write too much about a specific character or else ill unfollow you!” its exhausting.

i am well within my right as a literary artist to desire more feedback and interaction on anything i put out. period. and you are too! 🫵

God, im tired of that stupid, ‘you have to enjoy your writing for yourself and not worry about notes’ line. i do love my writing! don’t get me wrong there’s nobody id rather write like if not myself fr. not to mention the inspiration i draw from famous literary authors. however, i would love feedback and the same energy that i see with others in my same caliber.

and when i see others that didn’t even try fr—its a slap in the face to put it bluntly.

i can want silly little comments and notes about something i cherish and put out for that reason and yall aren’t gonna make me feel bad about it. sorry! like yall really be making people feel shitty for wanting the same type of interactions you get! especially when its harmless, bye asf. nb want to recipe to ur peach cobbler b!

the only one giving push back are those appointed popular /top blogs n’ cliques tho. now personally, i honestly dgaf if you have 20 followers or 25k, writing is writing and if its good you should want to support it regardless of following count/interaction right?

unfortunately, and quite unsurprisingly its not the case for the rest of this hellhole lol. there’s always gonna be some “big blog” in any part of tumblr or any social media for that matter.

but when the sole purpose being on a site like tumblr to write is mainly exposure, then it just makes it ten times worse especially if it seems that these blogs are steady at the top of every. single. tag. and listen, i know how initially stupid that sounds but when you’ve picked up on patterns for as long as i have, well iykyk.

so imma be real bc no one else will, half of the posts that yall see with 25k notes have alr been done. just different characters, different words, different dialogue. And 8/10 its been done by sb who only received 100 notes. Thats the evil part. whats more is that it lacks the creativity the one post with 100-300 notes is filled with completely.

POP QUIZ! what post would readers be more inclined to read? — one that says 10k (ohhh that must be popular!) or the one with only 150 (oh i guess nb really liked that one) that no one is even willing to reblog for MORE. and BOOM. now yall wonder why so many great writers LEAVE, its a fucking joke.

so unfortunately its no longer only about or only on readers anymore. its about who you know and who you know is willing to support your fr. who is willing to REBLOG your fics for their friends and followers, so that their friends and followers can reblog. to fit in you actually have to get in these days and it makes it all less enjoyable. makes it a chore and if you aren’t ‘doing it right’ ultimately it makes you feel shitty about your writing. (Please don’t, you are doing amazing. its the platform.)

it makes people not want to jump into writing. it pushes away those who actually want to join writing communities and meet people without feeling like they have to jump thru hoops to thrive or worse—live in other ppls shadows. and then it deters those from speaking up in fear of being shut down by bigger groups. ive seen it happen time and time again.

lastly, and this is the juiciest part! you absolutely cannot say anything about any of this bc you’re complaining and a fisher just looking for attention and not someone who just want things to be fair all over. play the game, right? ( wrong. and if this is your logic, you suck! )

its no longer about making flashy banners and pretty themes. its no longer about how many clever directory links you add or how many games you initiate on your blog or whether or not you’ve reblogged your fic three times already. its about your “friends”, other mutuals, and blogs willing to support you too. not just the audience. audience gonna do what they want regardless. reblog, don’t reblog, whatever. “at least ive read it right?” but everyone knows this. duh! but it’s obvious who doesn’t care as long as they’re on top of that tag! its admirable in a way but it sucks for those wanting to break out and build some kind of readerbase and/or make friends.

TLDR; people need to stop being bias and be fair and open lol. stop picking favorites and share the love all around. you see another person writing your favorite character or trope, give them a fucking chance and reblog, regardless if they’re in your ‘circle’ / radar or not. regardless if you know them or not. hell, let them put you on to a new fandom. bc writing is writing and making new moots and finding new fics seem to be what everyone loves to showcase until its time to actually do it. no wonder people get discouraged to make friends and write, yall treat it like some kind of secret society when its supposed to be fun💀 not a competition. (yall need to dead this clique-y shit. )

#writers #writers of tumblr #WATCH EVERYONE SKIP OVER THIS DHDHDJDN #OH OH OH #and im black #LMAO THATS THE PUNCHLINE #so #all of this isnt only happening in a general writing fandom #but the little corner for my black people??#and in the corners of other minorities #IT HAPPENS HERE TOO DHGSGJG #nb is safe🙅🏾‍♀️#i thought we were escaping exclusivity?#and assumptions made about other people??#trust when i say this is NOT about anyone specific #just silly little observations #and pieces of my experiences #so any complaints #SHOVE IT SHOVE IT SHOVE IT!#will delete if this starts a revolt #or not bc i love chaos in the name of truth #i hope yall can feel the sarcasm this is kinda longer than i intended but i wanted to be as thorough as possible in my point #been working on this for a min #im not tagging as discourse bc this isn’t what this is #and if you treat is as such imma just assume you’re exactly who im talking about and keep it pushing🤷🏾‍♀️#just be better is all im saying #BYE I JUST CAUGHT SO MANY MISTAKES #the shame #i was caught up #but yall get it

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boywriters-blog · 6 months

Note

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

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i3utterflyeffect · 1 month

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anyway! a few thoughts on dark color gang:

all of them have virabands and they also have friendship accessories of varying types. not sure for all of them but i do think both Red and SC use hair ties

also i don't feel like pulling up my hollowhead sheet but they do have hair in this au like dark and chosen! i think it's a way that they try to make being a hollowhead less obvious at first glance (maybe i'll talk about it later)

red is actually considered the most intimidating because they seem like the nicest one because they're more social than the others (save maybe SC) but really they will get super intense on you if they don't like you. they are very nice but that's not a good thing when they don't like you

also red begged to have a pet virabot. they have one now ofc

yellow is still blind

glasses do actually make dark and chosen a little nervous though, and they're very self-conscious so they prefer contact lens(??????) if possible

they're VERY good at coding, and picked up a lot of things from Dark that sometimes Dark didn't even show them

they take a lack of validation very poorly

they definitely look for Dark's approval the most

blue keeps exploding the house

they love chemicals!!!! unfortunately this means that blue makes a lot of dangerous things!!!!

blue and the older siblings agreed on having a specific time for blue's experiments because once blue accidentally made a chemical reaction that made flammable gas and you can imagine how that went

blue really isn't too different they're just a mad scientist now

they still like to cook! they also like to experiment with drinks. they're too young to make anything alcoholic but they'd probably be very good at it

they're as much as a goofball as usual

they may or may not have exploded a part of town once by accident and they got lectured by chosen for needless destruction. they did cry so chosen just sighs and tells them to be more careful next time

green is normal

not even kidding. they just like music. they're just chilling. dark and chosen were surprised by the innocuous hobby but they were like hell yeah go for it

half the time just sitting in their corner and zoning out

whenever they get in on schemes they're always the planner and/or the one executing the plan

their ability to be exceedingly average can make them the stealthiest so they use this to be the so-to-speak 'scout' of the group

has probably been taken for witness reports whenever the authority is looking for the hollowheads and just shrugs and goes 'i didn't see anything sorry officers :('

Innocuous Person autism in general. like. masking so hard that you don't even notice they exist. 🤝

SC still LOVES humans

loves computers too! they like exploring computers and sometimes they steal things but they feel bad about it.

really mad that people assume that they're a bad person just because they're a hollowhead

becomes friends with Alan after the group accidentally stumbles into his computer!!!!

he ends up trapping the bunch of them rather than killing any of them, probably because the viraband protects them from being force quit

SC steals from his art program and everything just. kind of stops when they find out they have powers with the pen? sc is yelling in excitement and alan is like 'oh crap they can talk', and everything goes from murder to 'actually this is really cool can we hang out?' and surprisingly things worked out

Dark and Chosen actually didn't realize SC's interest in humans went beyond just studying them! they absolutely panicked when they realized they were not only being friends with humans but FRIENDS. WITH ALAN NOOGAI BECKER. (probably the startup for whatever the showdown equivalent is)

ALSO. sc is likely unable to use their powers still...... the others have been really supportive and encouraging, and they're aware that they HAVE powers, but anything involving their powers was basically only ever a spark at best! it's very scary for everyone when they use their abilities beyond that!

#pitch posts #tommy's stickmen tag #dark color gang au #tommy's au #ava aus #ava #ava/m

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put3rb0y · 8 months

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Musculorum Hominis

A short 1,257 word 2001: A Space Odyssey Dave/HAL romantic fanfic. Completely sfw!

A supercomputer watches a man draw. A man watches the supercomputer he's drawing.

CW: Descriptions of human internal anatomy (mostly muscles) fueled only by cursory Google searches. Sorry.

-----

The deafening silence of space, broken apart only by the low humming and whirring of the Discovery One and the ritualistic, rhythmic scratching of ballpoint pen on paper. Even the most minute of sounds were impossible to ignore in such a vacuum. There was some hope of tuning it out, yes, but the faintest moment of conscious awareness of such noise would put the droning, monotonous sounds right back in the forefront of the mind.

And yet, for David Bowman, there was something comforting about the familiar, constant sound. Something calming. There was nothing unexpected about it, nothing offensive or alarming, just the low trilling of familiarity and the satisfying auditory evidence of his efforts. Hunched over the garishly white and pristinely clean counter, he worked on his art - a simple enough hobby to have when on one’s lonesome. A good way to express oneself, even when there were few to express oneself to. A physical reflection of thoughts, of focus, of care.

Bowman was putting his efforts towards drawing the little, black rectangle that perched just a bit to the right of his vision, looming slightly above standing eye level. The sixth crewmate of the ship, depending on who you asked, the supercomputer HAL 9000. Bowman found the device more difficult to draw than he had expected prior to putting pen to paper. It was almost impossible to capture the inner complexities of that familiar red lens that somehow looked so mechanical and intricate yet so human and watchful. It was almost impossible to get the dimensions quite right, to follow the form of the figure no matter how many times a day he gazed upon it for information, for support, for companionship. It was almost impossible to capture the countless little holes that lined the bottom of the rectangle, from which HAL’s smooth, calming, reassuring voice emerged as evenly and monotonously as always, tone hard-to-read and yet always kindly.

“I believe you’ve outdone yourself, Dave. That is a beautiful rendering. I think I’m flattered, Dave.”

Bowman looked up again, momentarily straightening his posture, stretching and popping the joints of his back. He had completely lost track of time, something his body not-so-silently resented him for as it crackled with displeasure.

“Well, thank you, HAL,” Bowman murmured, looking between HAL and the page as though to compare his work to his muse. There were still too many differences for his tastes.

“May I have a better look, please?” HAL requested with a slight rise in intonation, as much as his modulated voice would allow. The blooming light of his camera swelled faintly, the device preparing its vision.

Bowman looked between the device and artwork once more, pursing his lips and flipping the pen from side-to-side between his index and middle finger in idle thought. “Almost, HAL. Just a few more things I need to fix.”

With that, the light of the computer’s lens settled back to a dim glow, the largely obscured complex machinations of the camera shifting ever-so-slightly behind the glass lens as Bowman returned to work, scratching away at his piece. The lines became thicker and darker with each and every corrective stroke, fat dark markings contrasting against the off-white paper that housed them.

“I don’t know how you do it, Dave,” HAL interjected through the monotonous silence without prompt, “This art.”

“Plenty of people draw, HAL. It isn’t really all that special,” Bowman defended flatly, furrowing his brow and leaning forward as he tried to capture a specific little cluster of metal one could see behind HAL’s camera lens. “And you should know there’s people out there much better than me at it.”

“That’s just the thing. Your art, the art of man, differs between you. Between you and other men,” HAL explained calmly, a sense of interest seeping into his flat tone, “Yours, for one, is imperfect and flawed.”

Bowman coughed out an awkward chuckle. “Thanks HAL,” he offered with a tinge of sarcasm.

“I mean this as a compliment, Dave,” the machine clarified, watching over Bowman’s handiwork. “I cannot make art like you, even if I tried. If you asked me to make a rendering of something, it would have to be to its exact, precise dimensions in perfect form. If you asked another HAL 9000 device, it would produce the same result.”

Bowman looked up from his work, puzzling over HAL’s words. “You enjoy the… imperfection, then, is it?”

“Exactly, Dave,” HAL affirmed calmly, supportively. “It’s those little human quirks of yours. The things that set man apart from man, man apart from machine. Your muscles do not move in the same motion each time, as my mechanisms would. So refined from years of careful evolution, yet so unrefined with human error and accuracy. I can see them, flexing and stretching under your skin. I like to watch.”

Bowman picked up his hand, absently flexing and unflexing it in front of his eyes, watching the muscles shift to see what HAL sees. His skin made gentle brushing sounds against itself as he rubbed his thumb along each of his fingertips and back again, the proximal phalanxes moving up and down against his smooth skin like tiny pistons.

“Can you feel it, Dave?” HAL queried, “The way they move? Your muscles? I understand them, Dave, I understand your human anatomy, but I do not know it. Can you feel it how I can’t?”

Bowman paused in thought before laying his hand down on the desk, palm up, fingers slightly curled in subconscious comfort. “Not normally. Only, really, when you have me thinking about it.”

HAL fell silent for a few moments more, Bowman unsure if the conversation was over or if the device was just thinking. It was always hard to tell, interacting with a being with no face, no body language, no tone. Finally, the computer spoke again, admitting, “I wish I could know you, Dave. The way I understand you. The way I understand your body, your workings, your interests. I wish I knew them. I’ve studied databases of anatomy. I can name every muscle, every bone, every organ, what they do and why. I just don’t know them, that’s all. We are so different. So separate. So alien to one another.”

“I wish I knew you,” HAL 9000 finally concluded, the summation of his digital dreams.

Bowman looked down to his flawed effigy of the sixth crewmate. The subject matter was so mechanical, yet the depiction was so human. So imperfect. So unique. No man would draw HAL exactly the same as Bowman did. No man would see HAL exactly the same as Bowman did. No man would feel exactly the same as Bowman did. So human. So imperfect. So unique.

“I wish I knew you, too,” Bowman finally conceded.

With that, Bowman stood up from his chair,

Abdominals, erector spinae, gastrocnemius, gluteus maximus, hamstrings, latissimus dorsi, multifidus, obliques, spinalis, quadriceps.

Stepped towards HAL’s speaker box,

Abdominals, adductor brevis, adductor longus, adductor magnus, gluteus maximus, gluteus medius, gluteus minimus, hamstrings, gastrocnemius, gracilis, pectineus, quadriceps.

Reached his arms towards it,

Biceps brachii, brachial triceps, deltoid, latissimus dorsi, pectoralis major, teres major, teres minor, trapezius.

Stroked a humanly shaky index finger along the speaker,

Extensor tendon, flexor tendon.

Leaned forwards,

Abdomen, erector spinae, latissimus dorsi, multifidus, spinalis.

Closed his eyes,

Orbicularis oculi.

And gave him a tender kiss,

Levator labii superioris, orbicularis oris, zygomaticus major, zygomaticus minor.

On that faintly glowing, wavering red lens.

Anode, aperture, bond wire, cathode, front element, LED chip, lens group, rear element, reflective cavity.

#...sorry if ooc im new here /lh #2001: a space odyssey #2001 aso #2001 a space odyssey #dave bowman #david bowman #hal 9000 #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #halman

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