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[frustratedwritersblog]

Can u write something for Yoriichi? Like he falls in love with a girl but he is afraid that his job as a demon slayer will cause harm to her so he just stays behind to protect her.

Hi anon. Sorry but I don’t take requests. I’m just posting random stories that I wrote. But do not fret! There are plenty of amazing kny writers. Surely one will write your request.

[frustratedwritersblog]

This is BEAUTIFUL

Hi Ri! As mentioned can I ask for an angsty fluff drabble of s/o and Shinobu? For the scenario/prompt, it could be unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful. You can play with these all you want 😊. Thank you!

Hi♡ You are my third request so you'll get Chibi Inosuke doodle! I hope I stumbled upon some of the themes you requested, I wasn't sure if it would require to be an AU for it to be unfamiliar but with no further ado, here you go. (This is my first time ever writing a drabble request♡.)

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Conflicted kind of protection.

Up at night, quietly, Shinobu was sitting on the open window's sill. Meanwhile (y/n) was watching her from the bed yet again, feeling his lungs compressing at the sight of her tilted back behind the frail moving curtain.

It's hard to speak with her when she's like this and It's hard to stay silent either. The silence is deafening, the unspeakable prevention from her side to disturb this growing distance is killing (y/n). it's been dreadful keeping this false sense of peace, and to let her get better in time, is to die slowly. Lightheaded, he stood on his feet to walk to her. Careful not to stumble, securing his unbalanced body with his hand as he reach the window.

Startled, Shinobu turns with a face paler than the moon, (y/n) held her cold hand inside his warm hand. Smiling at her though she doesn't give one back, but taking her hand from his grasp asking "Why are you awake?" Not looking at him back in the eyes like before, her sight was directed only at his scars, the patch on his left eye and the splint around his right arm.

"It's been five days, watching you sitting here instead of sleeping next to me."

Hearing his gentle voice, her breath was slow and shaky, she turns her face off again, in what it seems a repulsion of his affection.

"you know I'll bear weights upon my shoulders, to not see you sorrowful." He said, while she is quiet still

"Tell me, talk to me, why are you mad, Shinobu..."

"You promised me... not to be reckless. You almost died in front of me." Now facing him while she still is sitting on that sill, carelessly moving on it

"How am I supposed to tell you- I'm in constant pain from you. You keep throwing yourself into danger, and this time because of me.. ."

She's her unusual self, this Shinobu is anxious and intense. Her voice, rings like a hazard siren in his head, and he sees in her eyes the manifested sorrow and guilt.

"Calm down, Shinobu." (y/n) said, Shinobu was breathing harder still collected even though. Chanting "Don't come closer, if you'll keep at it I'm going to have to end our relationship." Those sudden words coming from her made him try harder to search in her eyes for a reason. His wide open eyes couldn't believe such words "Why? What does that has to do with it?" He asked in a serious tone, demanding an explanation. Her eyes were watering "I-.." tongue tied, as if words were weighing down her throat, she struggles to let it out " -'m not prepared to-"

"I held you back there, it was a constant hell of flashbacks. I sew you up as I bite my lips together. I didn't want to cry, but" her teardrops falling onto her hands "I couldn't protect you." she said, constraining her sobs. (y/n), couldn't bear watching her crying, he leans in towards her and as he lean in further she backed away farther and pushing his face off with her hands. (Y/n) felt Shinobu's body was about to slip outside the window, but he hurried to pull her in with his stern arms locking on her waist; just burying his face on her as he took her in safely. Shinobu herself thought she was going to slip and fall, she recognize both his arms holding her, even the splinted one.

"l got you-" she heard (y/n) whispering on her body, seeing blood stain on her hand, she gasped worried and shifted her sight at him, which he was looking back at her with his everlasting smile. "I'm sorry, I caused all this pain." A drop of blood was slipping beneath the patch on his eye, pierced her heart. Almost whispering "I also promised you, I'll protect you with everything I got. And to do that I got to be stronger than the strongest pillar standing." He said, as she cleaned his cheek with her sleeve, (y/n) kissed her cheek, tasting her tears but she took his face between her hands to check his eye. "Does it hurt?" She asked worried.

"I love you" (y/n) said back. Their faces were close and eventhough she's hurt, she's only hurting out of loving him. (Y/n)'s her lover, and she won't forgive any nor herself if he ever got hurt. "I'm sorry I've caused all your pain. I'll get even stronger so no demon can touch you... or turn me into a pathetic weakling." He said chuckling, meanwhile their foreheads were sticking together "But don't prevent me from being next to you, you are the one to lend me strength." Their lips were brushing very delicately, she whispers "I'm scared, especially scared about you dying." - "and I'm scared of living a second without you." He confesses "Don't prevent me from you, where the heaven encompasses."

Kissing her softly, and eventhough her tears were still dropping out of her lids, she seems calmer now after getting her negative feelings out of her. She wraps her legs around his torso, just bringing him even closer on her lips, passionately kissing him. "You make me go crazy. I don't know what to do with you, but please don't you go hurting yourself or die because of me."

His hands caressing her cheek "I'll get better, stronger soon, just to reassure you and your nonstop worrying mind."

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Home (Rengoku x Reader)

Y/N hears Oyakata sama's voice, but her heart is beating so loudly that she can't decipher the words.

We did it, she thinks. The demons are gone.

She glances over at the flame pillar - her lover - and it is only her respect for the hierarchy that keeps her grounded, that keeps her from running right over to him and embracing him with all her might.

It's all over now. No more nights spent wondering if tonight will be her last on this earth, no more innocent blood spilled, no more watching her comrades die. No more hiding, or sneaking, or promises that can't really be promised.

She's so caught up in her thoughts that she doesn't see or hear him approach, but his comforting scent alerts her. She looks up at his face, and he's smiling, a treat for her eyes that she has seen plenty of times before.

He wraps his arms around her, and his grip is so strong she can't breathe, but she doesn't try to move away. Her eyes are wet, and she moves to bury her head in his chest, but he loosens his grip and takes a step back.

He kisses her forehead, something soft and sweet, and when he pulls back, she swears his eyes are just as glossy as hers.

"Let's go home, Y/N."

She laughs, and almost tells him that they have no home, but she quickly remembers that wherever he is is home.

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Out of Tune (Tanjirou X Grumpy Reader)

"You're such a grumpy" said Tanjirou smiling at Y/N.

She didn't move from his place on the couch, she barely even looked at him over the report she was reading. She just raised an eyebrow before answering.

"I'm not grumpy."

He laughed, approached her and kissed her on the cheek.

"You've such a bad mood. I love you."

"I don't have bad mood. And I love you too. Now could you please move? You're blocking the light and I can't read."

Tanjirou smiled, but did as she asked. He moved, away from the window and close to the...... radio. He looked behind his back, she was focused on her reading, unaware of his actions. So, trying not to make any noise, he quietly plugged the machine, listening to the song playing in a low volume and staying right next to it, singing the melody in his head while waiting for the moment he wanted.

Tanjirou approached Y/N again. And then...

"And I... can't... help... FALLING IN LOOOOOVE, WIITH YOUUUUU!" he sang at the top of his lungs, performing in front of her with an invisible microphone in his hands.

"Tanjirou!" Y/N shouted, as she jumped from the couch. "I told you. You can be grumpy all you want, but if you don't speak to me, then I'll sing to you," explained Tanjirou, kissing her repeatedly on the cheek.

"Amazing, and so out of tune, always!" she mumbled, while letting herself be kissed.

And he kept kissing her, because even though she wanted to be grumpy, he could see her hiding her own smile.

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Masterpiece (Giyuu x Reader)

I wrote this piece at 3 AM, when I woke up dreaming of you. I didn’t want the details to end up forgotten and trailing into unfinished sentences. I dreamt of your eyes, though they are also in my memories. The color dark blue and fathomless, I think they can pierce through the walls I so desperately try to build around myself. I never realized how beautifully fathomless dark blue eyes could be ‘til I saw yours. I also dreamt of your tall frame, and remember the feeling of walking next to you, like I’m so small and insignificant.

But memories or dreams never do you justice. They’re short and they fade. Which is why, everyday, I hope to create new memories I can store away or dream longer through the nights. I hope to see your rare smiles; the one that makes your eyes crinkle. You may think there isn’t a difference, but your smirks are nothing compared to the real smiles I’ve only caught glimpses of. I wish I could also capture the look you get, when you adorable furrow your eyebrows and grimace. It’s a look that says something like: ‘are you serious’ and ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’. I try to futilely replay how amazing you were during the final battle, but that seems like a too distant memory. And I can’t dream about your voice when you sing those random songs loudly. You also have your moments of sarcastic comebacks and biting remarks. Sometimes you look so stoic, and it makes me feel like ice crawls across my skin and seeps into my veins. But when you laugh… it’s sound wraps around me and captivates me.

Memories, dreams, and even these words don’t seem sufficient enough. And yes, you’re not perfect. But neither am I. Growing up, I realized: it doesn’t have to be perfect. It can be better instead. And you are so much better.

I will never compare you to a beautiful sunset or a shooting star or any sappy thing like that. Poets and fairytale writers have done that enough. For me, someone as rare as you cannot be compared to any thing so mediocre.

Maybe, one day, when I no longer dream of you and these memories of you are too had to hold on to, you’ll get a chance to read this. And I hope, at least, it will bring one of those rare eye-crinkling smiles to your face to know that somewhere out here, another person appreciated you and was amazed by you. Someone didn’t just glance at you, but gazed at you and tried to see all the things that made you a masterpiece.

[frustratedwritersblog]

WHY IS THIS SO FLUFFY! ALSO WHY SO LITTLE HEARTS?!? PLEASE GO CHECK THIS AWESOME BLOG. HIGHLY RECOMMEND

The Relentless Teasing of Shinobu Kocho: Part 1 of 1

Summary: After being invited by Shinobu to join her on a herb gathering trip, you find yourself far too distracted by just how amazing she is to keep focus. Your main goal? Be so helpful that she can’t help but be impressed with you! Too bad you missed half of what she said. Now you’re stuck blind, looking for a herb you aren’t completely sure of. Wait… is that poison ivy, or is that the specific plant Shinobu was looking for? Welp, there’s only one way to find out!

1.6k words

shinobu x reader

super fluffy, shinobu likes to tease, and reader is just Trying Their Best™️

Keep reading

[frustratedwritersblog]

Kiss (Reader x Shinobu)

P.S. In this scenario Shinobu survived (she's still alive in my heart okay T_T)

They both slide into the bed without speaking, but the air between them is foggy with sighs and swallowed up whispers.

He feels disgustingly emotional, and Shinobu always manages to get even more sentimental on these nights. His nichirin blade is set up on a chair by the bed, all set up and ready for him to throw on in the night.

They face each other, lying just centimeters apart in the bed, and Shinobu traces one thin finger along the curves and angles of Y/N's cheek. He looks at her eyes, and her gaze lingers at his mouth.

He knows what she’s going to say even before she’s opened her mouth - she always rests one hand on his neck, shuffles closer beneath the sheets, and says the same words.

“I wish you didn’t have to go.”

And a lot of times Y/N doesn’t answer, but he hates the way the moonlight spills across Shinobu's face, how her hair smells clean and warm and like home. He hates how his muscles unfurl and how the mattress feels better when it’s dipped under their combined weight. He hates that he has to leave it all in the night.

“You just want me to lose a hand or a foot out there.”

He hates himself before he’s even finished the sentence, and as punishment he forces himself to watch. Watch as Shinobu flinches back, and clamps one hand over her shoulder - the shoulder she tore, the shoulder that can no longer handle the weight of a blade. The wound that keeps her from ever joining him again in battle.

“That’s not fair.” She says, voice wavering, but she grabs onto the front of his shirt like she understands, and rests her head beneath his chin.

She shuts her eyes.

She pretends to sleep as he bathes and dresses and pulls on his uniform. He touches her face so sweetly, just like he always does when he lets himself pretend she’s not awake. Then he presses his lips to her closed eyelids, one after the other, willing her to open her eyes so that he can look into them one last time before leaving.

He can’t say it out loud though, so he lets his kisses linger, pleading with her to open her eyes.

She doesn’t, even though he hears and feels the hitch in her breathing.

He walks away with the taste of salt on his mouth, feels the way she begged silently with him as well.

He carries her unspoken plea with him in his mouth, lets the taste linger over the blood and bile in battle, tells himself that if he just makes it back home tonight, he can rid himself of the taste with one kiss from Shinobu.

[frustratedwritersblog]

Ironic

Kanao POV (AU)

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I gave up on him.

I gave up on him when he made me feel like I was taking up too much of his time. But I still look at that green dot every time he comes online. And I hope. Against hope. That he will message me. That for once, he will miss me the way I miss him.

I gave up on him when he didn’t respond when I told him that I love him, I know you can never make anyone love you. But I didn’t know how to fall in love with him. I just did. And he left me before teaching me how to get over him. Not fair if you ask me. But then, I knew it never was.

Reality crashes around me soon and I am left standing alone. Well, I do have my broken heart but I doubt that counts.

I gave up on him when he said he wasn’t the boy to fall in love with. Believe me, I never asked for it. But then such are the ironies of fate. A girl who is one of the best swimmers may drown. And here is me, a girl who people think can’t feel anything, slowly dying of love.

I gave up on him. And people say you shouldn’t give up. People are fools. They know nothing. Kind of ironic because I am the one doing all the preaching here. Yes, I gave up on him. But, in my defense, I never stopped loving him.

Not because I didn’t want to. But simply because I never could.

[frustratedwritersblog]

Absolute and Powerful

Shinobu X Reader (Reader POV) 

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She was always there, from the beginning she was always there for me. The one who kissed my bruised knees, ran her fingers on my forehead to my hair and made sure my eyes were wide with wonder, and my heart is full of love. She was there when I cried because of my family, she was there when I disclosed my deepest secret, she was there when I almost died, when I tried putting a period in my life–twice. She was always there to pick me up each and every damn time that I fall, and she never, ever told me that neither one of them was my fault, or that I could have done more. When others looked at me as though I am solely a flaw, she looked at me as though my existence alone could make the stars shine, and the moon bright. She saves me, she was there. Those fleeting happy memories are stuck in my mind, they've made a shadow of doubt that smothers the light and consumes all that is good. The sadness that we have now reminds me of what we were, our mantra, our motto. We are absolute and powerful.

Everything reminds me of you. The dust, my pillow, my to-do list, my forgetfulness. But ironic how my memory loss doesn't "forget" You. Whatever I do, I always forget to forget You— I need it, I cling to it with every ounce of my feeling, with every living fiber that constitutes my being. I will never let go of you, whatever might happen, even if you're gonna tell me to set you free, sorry but I can't. You taught me how to live, but sorry if I pushed it to the extent where I made you my life. Please, love me again. We were absolute and powerful, remember?

I don’t know which one is the hardest: the swelling of my own lungs as they fill with all the empty frames where the memories are supposed to linger. Or the frantic, guilt-stricken breathing of my heart as it cries for my youth and the bittersweet taste of stale cigarettes, smoked under a star sodden moon. And I know the steel chains of grief are carried by broken hands and dragged around each ankle like dead weight, but that is not why my arms and legs tremble. It's not why I find myself here, playing hopscotch with your shadow and tossing pennies on the pavement, counting each rectangle where my feet failed to jump. Alone on the empty street, staring at the ground like it was a wishing well and all my pennies will be turned into luck, or sitting on the edge of a cliff, as I wander the beautiful facade of the night sky waiting for a shooting star to find its way towards my hoping– heart. And perhaps, looking up at the sky as if angels are real, and if I stay long enough, the sanguine will rise with sympathetic favor and grant us to play one last time. And it's a shameful tragedy that our stars failed to align, even though the record shows that we tried so many times.

I've tried to let you go. Dump these burning feelings into the coolness of the abyss. Scrape you from my insides, like a lifesaving cleanse. But you hold tight like a storm's lingering residue, the destruction has hampered my efforts of rebuilding. I will never move on from you, I love you too much. You had me at a point where I would've given up on life, left the world, if not because of you. I love you, so much. Save me, one last time.

[frustratedwritersblog]

Hi! I really like the way you write. It's simple and very sweet, and despite its simplicity, you bring out the emotions out of me very well. I was wondering if you have any blog recs for me? Someone who writes so beautifully as you? Have a nice day. :)

Hello anon! Thanks for taking the time to send this message. Of course I have a list of writers who write even WAY better than I am. I particularly love original stories of @knybits and @giyuwu-writings but here’s a list of all the writers that I follow and you should definitely check them out: @knyimagines @loving-kny @kimetsu-no-yaiba-headcanons @knyenthusiast @kimetsunoyaiba-imagines-hcs @kny-imagines @kimetsunowritings @kimetsu-no-fanatics @kimetsu-no-yaiba-imagines @dreamindolls @okiitas-imagines @hydrangea-imagines @demonictransformation @kimetsu-no-yaiba-writings @butterflyestate @yamiiwrites @demon-slayer-imagines @tanjirou-imagines

I’m sure there are other writers out there but above is a list that I highly recommend you should check. Have a wonderful day!

[frustratedwritersblog]

Tea Party (Dad Sanemi)

“Please, papa? Nobody else can play right now.” She looks up at him, her big eyes pleading, and he can already feel her gaze digging into the soft spots of his heart.

“Definitely not. There’s no way I’m putting on a dress.”

Sanemi will sneak extra treats for her, and read her stories well past her bedtime, and drink her watered-down, lukewarm tea. but playing princesses is Y/N’s specialty, and he’ll be damned if he’s going to give in to her.

She pouts. Her bottom lip juts out, and her face contorts, and the corners of her lips point downward. She sniffles, once, twice, and she lowers her head and covers her eyes with her hands, like she just witnessed some awful event happen.

He’ll be damned.

“God da–, fu–, ugh.” he grumbles, looking away from her. He guesses, supposes, that a few minutes won’t hurt. “You’re infuriating, kid, y’know that?”

She takes that as his answer, and when he looks back at her, her look of doom and demise has been replaced with bright eyes and a toothy smile.

__________

He doesn’t remember why he’s yelling at Mitsuri, but he is, and it must be over something stupid because she’s laughing and every word he’s saying seems to be bouncing right off of her.

He stops to sigh and ask “What the fuck” she’s laughing about, because his patience is wearing thin and he has work to do. She’s bursting at the seams, and when she finally catches her breath, she places her hand on his shoulder.

“I really can’t take you seriously.” She takes a few deep breaths. “Princess Sanemi.”

She only promises not to tell anyone after he invites her to the next tea party.

[frustratedwritersblog]

Papercut (Reader X Shinobu)

“That bed is for patients, Y/N.” Shinobu looks up from her charts, the frustration clear on her usually soft features.

“I am a patient, though.” he rolls over onto his stomach and gives her as much of a pout as he can muster. “It’s pretty serious this time. I think I might bleed out.”

Shinobu sighs and tucks a stubborn strand of hair back behind her ear. The job is tiring enough as it is, and she can do without Y/N’s little games, even if his intentions are somewhat adorable.

She stands up from her chair and makes her way to the bed, before sitting down beside him. “What’s the damage this time?” her voice is sugary sweet, and she places a hand on his back and rubs in small circles.

Y/N reaches up and jabs his index finger into her face, nearly poking her in the eye. “Look. I’m dying.” Shinobu takes hold of his hand and inspects his finger thoroughly, and when she spots his so-called injury, she lets out an exhausted sigh.

“It’s a paper cut, Y/N. You’re fine.” She lets go of him and stands up to return to her work. “I have things to do, and if someone comes in and you’re just lying there, we’ll both be in trouble.”

Y/N lifts himself up to sit on the bed, and a smirk plays at the corners of his mouth. “If you don’t wrap it, I’ll tell Oyakata-sama how negligent you are.” Shinobu sighs for what must be the tenth time since he barged into the room. She opens a drawer in her desk and pulls out a thin roll of bandages. “Come here, then.”

He moves from the bed to her desk, a cocky expression dripping off of his face. He takes a seat on the edge of the desk, his legs dangling down, and presents her with his wounded digit. Shinobu wraps it quickly, mumbling about how “childish” he is and how he “doesn’t even need a bandage”, but she does it with care. She throws the roll of bandages back in her draw and shuts it with a loud thud, a clear indication of her mood.

“There, you’re all better. Now let me get back to my work, please.”

Y/N nods, and pulls her up by her hands so that she’s standing in front of him. He pulls her in and gives her a deep, warm kiss. “Thank you.”

[frustratedwritersblog]

Memories (Shinobu X Reader)

It’s strange how few memories he has of her stored away in the back of his mind. He usually does his best not to remember anyone at all but she seems to come back to him almost effortlessly even during the most mundane of tasks. Sometimes he’ll just be sitting by the window and watch the light stream in from the window and he’ll see her sitting beside him like she did only weeks ago, the sunlight hitting her hair in such a way that it looked almost golden. Other times he’ll get up to make a cup of tea and he’s forced to remember how she got up early in the morning to make everyone’s tea the way she liked it. How did she like her tea? He can’t remember. It makes him feel worse. He should know that at the very least and yet he struggles to recall even that simple bit of information.

Sometimes he chooses to remember her because it makes him feel less lonely. In the middle of the night as he trains in the dojo, he’ll bring her back and imagine her walking through the door, bringing a fresh pot of tea with her. She’d pour him a cup and scold him for being up so late then leave, but not before telling him to go to bed soon. He thought it was strange at first, but he finds he had become attached to it. It’s funny how much he realizes he likes something now that it’s gone.

Other times he visits old memories because as much as he would like to forget, it’d feel more like a sin to forget her completely. When he feels her smile fading from his memory, he brings it back. She smiled whenever Iguro made a snide remark, when she teased Giyuu. And yet even as he savors knowing she had these moments of happiness, they bring him pain anyway because there could have been more. These memories of her, happy as they are, are a lie and he knows it. He purposely chooses the ones where she’s smiling and laughing and chooses to leave out the ones where she was unhappy.

If he had been a kinder, warmer person, would she have smiled more in her life? But it’s too late for that. So he lets these memories haunt him, drag him down, drown him as he as they remind him of everything that happened and everything he should have done.

[frustratedwritersblog]

Stargazing (Reader X Shinobu)

“I think that one looks like a butterfly,” she says.

He follows the lazy arc of her finger into the sky from where he sits, she seems to be pointing at nothing, but the inky blackness of the night is shimmering with endless stars. He stares up, searching for the cluster she must be looking at, but he sees nothing.

“If you say so,” Y/N says, and tries not to smirk when she makes a face at him. “Just a little bit. See that?” That one star on the edge, it’s shining more brightly than the others and”. “Don’t see a thing.”

Shinobu then elbow’s Y/N in the ribs gently as she is aware of his teasing. “That one. By the constellation you just pointed out. The two stars on top, those below them and if you connect them, they form a crooked line.”

He can spot it now. There are an immeasurable number of stars spread around them, hanging high over their heads, always more beyond sight no matter how far they travel, but as the stars are unreachable, they are also unmovable, and there are certain patterns of them he will always recognize. Y/N sees what Shinobu is pointing at now; the group she is looking at is surrounded by others that distract the eye from its shape, but he can make out the of the butterfly head, the wings, and the antenna.

“No idea what you’re talking about,” is all Y/N could say. “You saw it.” Shinobu laughs, though she is careful to keep her voice low, they are not too far where the wounded hunters are and though they are aware that everyone pretends to not know about their relationship, it is still supposed to be a secret.

“That might be one of the constellations,” he says. “That people categorized and named long ago. I don’t remember its name or story though. There were so many of them. Don’t know why anyone would waste all that time making them all up.” “Well, people have a lot more freedom and time than us,” she answers, managing to completely ignore the negative aspects of his words. Y/N will never stop wondering how she can always see right through his unpleasant comments, how she can tell when he means them and when he does not, when other take all his words too seriously.

“Besides, there’s a lot of useless shit in your brain,” Shinobu adds, and Y/N has nothing to say to that. He thinks of the stories he knows, sung to him by the fireplace and gathered from books that should never have fallen into his hands and he wishes he knew more so he could tell her something new.

Shinobu is sitting next to Y/N on the blanket they spread over the ground, her sandals on the grass and her knees to her chest. She stretches her legs out now and leans her head onto his shoulder. Y/N nearly tells her they should sleep, but she takes his arm and sighs. A sigh of contentment he so rarely hears, and he decides not to say anything for a little while.

“If no one knows the stories anymore,” Shinobu says, “then we should make up our own.” She whispers the words. Y/N turns his head to see her hair in the corner of his vision, the starlight from above reflecting in her eyes as she stares up at the sky again. There is something wistful in her gaze. “Like what?” “I don’t know, the stories don’t have to be special.”

“Alright then,” Y/N says. “That’s Shinobu’s Butterfly. That’s the name, and the story of that constellation is the butterfly got taken off first when Shinobu went to Y/N’s room to.” “Shut up,” she interjects, but when she elbows him again, she also kisses him briefly and Y/N can taste her laughter on her lips.

[frustratedwritersblog]

JAKE PERALTA QUOTES THAT RICHIE WOULD MOST DEFINITELY SAY

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11. BONUS - RICHIE SAYING THIS TO EDDIE

[frustratedwritersblog]

KnY 170 Spoiler

I'm puzzled as fuck

Basically everyone was like "ok epic i hope my fav pillar gets the mark"

>Gotouge pulls out Ch. 170

Everyone: "oH SHIT NVM NVM THEY DONT NEED THE MARK THEY DON'T NEED THE MARK THEY DON'T NEED-"

[frustratedwritersblog]

Life is too short to remove the USB safely.