#and he prob thought nothing of it all but MAN i was so convinced it would actually go somewhere

[ilostyou]

i’m SCREAMING tiktok just suggested this video to me of none other than! this guy i had a summer Thing (loose term) with when i was 16 and was so convinced i could literally be in love with him but then my friends and i found out he actually had a girlfriend the entire time we were talking

[undercoverpena]

isn't it

din djarin x f!reader

summary: at first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at. but, at some point between your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

warnings: mentions of smut/alludes to smut. bad star wars writing (probs, i'm new forgive me). no use of y/n. brief mention/allusion of hand necklace (thanks @rhoorl for the term), m!oral, p in v. loosely season one/two, although likely au. wordcount: 1.7k an: a huge massive thank you to @saradika for firstly convincing me i could do this, and then letting me show her this so i could be assured i didn't butcher him. ily so much 🤍

It’s beautiful.

The sound of wind rustling through it, how it waves in spots up and down the hill—moving side to side like a cosmic wave.

You thought you’d known green until now; thought you had known silver too, assumed you understood the way reflections worked and how quick movements could be. But that was before him.

Before you’d known the feel of his solid body lay on top of yours.

Then, you discovered a lot of things. Like how easy it was to spread your thighs on either side of him. For your fingers to seek in the dark—how they effortlessly hunt and find the parts he’ll expose to the night, but never to the light.

You even found you don’t hate the sound of your name when he says it. Somehow makes it longer, more impactful—like it has meaning when it comes from his mouth.

All of which were things you’d never known before you convinced him to bring you.

A promise, a barter—an exchange. Your hand clutching his blaster slugs, tears clutching to your lashes, flowing from your eyes—aware of what you look like, aware of the desperation you reek of.

Just take me to a different planet. A suitable one. Please.

At first, it had been you who had found a problem with each one he’d landed at.

A bogus reason, a ploy—all stemmed from a rising infatuation with the man under beskar. But, at some point between your cheek against the wall of his ship and your clothing being around your ankles, you’re sure he’d begun to find problems with you leaving too.

But, this place is a gift—it’s a slice of heaven.

It had been a stop gap you’d almost pleaded at him not to make, a pause in the travel plan. Now you’re not sure you want to leave it.

Because here is a sea of greens, a variety, a never-ending display of every shade between the letters which make up the name. Some are more saturated, some are deeper; some are tinged with yellows and others are blotted with dark spots that aim to discolour, but just make them more unique.

There’s no bounty here—no collection to be made.

Just a sight for your eyes and a moment for him. And, you think you could sit here for hours and bask in it. Take it in. Allow the air of this planet to fill your lungs and carve a space inside of you that no one will ever be able to rip from you.

Stroking your fingers through the ground, you feel how your tunic presses to your spine—how it’s held there by the perspiration on your spine. The fabric desperate to blow, to whip around your ribs and the sleeves to float around your arms.

You don’t care that it’s warm—don’t mind that you can feel your skin prickling under it.

Because you’re lost in it, the limitlessness of this place. How surreal it is that each blade points north to the sky, all upright, anchored pleasingly to the ground it came from.

Things had been beautiful earlier too, you remind yourself.

When you had been enveloped by darkness, not a slither of light—not that there’d be the space for it in the small cot. His hands, forever a staple, an anchor, to your hips, determined to pin you there.

He’s a man who chases after those who run, and you suppose it’s ingrained in him. This belief that everyone, at some point, will leave—will go. You think it’s why he holds you tightly when you’re nothing but bare; you suppose it’s why after, when he unsheathes himself, he always traces his thumb over the places his fingers have been, reminding your skin he’s kind, just in case you need another reminder not to leave.

“We should go.”

You hum because you should. Yet, your mind rationalises that the baby is still asleep and there are more minutes to sit in the silence, to not dwell—you suppose it’s why your hand reaches up, and brushes over the gloved fingers instead.

Action is easier than words when it comes to him.

A game the two of you play, one of silence and strategy—wondering who’d be the first to crack and speak more words than necessary. You suspect it’ll be you in time, likely soon enough.

It’s why you clutch, cling. Weaving and working until you’re holding his fingers at an odd angle, a silent plea there, a wishful hope spoken without using syllables or your lips and mouth.

“One more minute.”

“Okay,” you respond.

Watching the strands move again, swaying, dancing.

A content sigh rolls from you, and briefly—in the back of your mind, you wonder if you’re really awake. Whether this is some form of peace your brain has concocted after the sight of him stained in crimson; his palms flat in the air, modulator expelling he’s fine, it isn’t his, he’s okay, it’s okay—

For a while, you’d believed him, until you felt the bruises—all pulsing and colouring in shades you can’t imagine. An image being drawn, shaded in—forever in black and white, just outlines and half-concocted feelings you have on what lives under his armour.

He sighs next to you, it rattling out through his helmet.

And you wait to hear it, the confirmation he normally hands you. Deep, even through his modulator that this “isn’t it” either.

It’s been a routine ever since the two of you began this dalliance. Ever since you’d smuggled yourself aboard his ship with the promise that you’d never ask him for anything else.

Neither realising how false that would be.

You beg for a lot. For more, for his lips, his fingers and his cock. You wait for the darkness, count down to it—thrum with excitement for it when he steps down the ladder and his helmet is aimed in your direction.

Somehow, no words are said, just mutual acknowledgement, acceptance. Or that's what you call it. It being seemingly better than admitting that you crave it—him. That you care, that the sight of him smeared in ruby still haunts you—lingers there, bleeds into good days and casts shadows while you wait in the hull. The child in your arms, soothing him—telling yourself you’re giving him comfort, when you suppose you gain more from the small being than you could ever provide.

“This isn’t it,” he eventually says from above.

His helmet turned, and you imagine the eyes that live under it. Question if they’re almond-shaped or hooded, whether they’re brown, green or blue. You also wonder if he looks at you with curiosity or want, whether it’s with a thousand thoughts running or none at all.

“No?”

“No. Not this one.”

That’s when you close your eyes. Let your ears do the seeing.

Allow your other senses to kick in, to swallow the lack of sight and make do. You end up lingering on the gloved hand in yours—the one which sometimes slides around your neck, lightly pinches either side as you moan at the feel of him. The same hand which slides down your spine to aid your motion, or lingers there when the terrain isn't trouble-free.

It's the remembering which makes you let go of it, of him.

Quickly managing to pretend your hand doesn’t feel cold when you do. Stuff down the emptiness that begins to drown you in the space you put between you, as you stand up. A part of you admitting defeat, silently saying goodbye to tall stands of green and the rolling hills adorned with shades.

“Thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

It rumbles from you. All heavy, laced in its own metal—ready to slam into him and take him down.

It doesn’t. You’re not sure any words ever could.

You suppose it’s why he says nothing, silently following, not too far so that you’re alone, but not close enough that you can feel the ghost of his touch. The distance measured, all purposeful. It remains so until you’re back aboard, until the door closes behind you and you’re once again surrounded by metal.

A part of you knows you shouldn’t grow used to him, shouldn’t be waiting for him to flood your spine with his chest. But you do—you really fucking do.

It’s why you don’t move, don’t take a step closer to check on the baby or even unclench your hand from around the strands of green you’d stolen. The ones you’d ripped up from the ground, roots tickling your wrist—the rest remaining tucked closely between curled fingers and a sweaty palm.

Yours. The smallest piece of a place you’ll likely never see.

“You should sleep.”

It’s an order. Direct—practically thrown at you. Followed by a tight grip on your waist, fingers finding the same place they always do. His place. The one not needing a mark, but he leaves them all the same, ownership, a possession.

Sometimes in the throes of it, you hear him hiss mine, jus’ mine—your head nodding in the dark, because you are, you know you are, the same as you suspect he knows he’s yours. It’s another thing which festers behind your teeth, keeping lips clamped shut, knowing it requires no confirmation, no words in exchange for the momentary slip-up he lets escape. But then, you offer nothing when you trace mine against him with your tongue, when you muffle the words around his shaft as your mouth widens to take more of him.

It’s just pleasure, an easy-to-choose solution to another body being in proximity—a lie you tell yourself.

One you bargain with when he sleeps and you’re coated in the dark, convincing yourself until sleep carries you away and you wake to find yourself either alone or the very opposite.

Because it’s easier, simpler. Far better than admitting your heart does a double take when he returns, that you yearn for him in the days that pass when he leaves you on the ship.

It’s less complicated than asking him if you’ll ever be worthy of seeing him.

And you’re not the type of person to question. So you don’t.

And so the routine continues.

an: you don't know how long this has been burning in my head.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

Hii! I feel like I’ve been loving angst and smut all being put in one fanfic as of recently, so I thought about heartbreaker Johnny because we all know he’s not the most loyal man 🌚 so I was wondering if like it could be the sort of where the reader was basically taken by the slaughter family and instead of killing her they kept her as bate for more victims like she’s very attractive and they use her whenever they go out to hunt, (I hope that makes sense but I figured that would prob be the only reason they kept someone alive 😭) but ok so one day basically she and sissy are sitting on the couch watching Tv in their free time , and Johnny walks into the house with yet another girl, like the 3rd girl of the week, and like the reader rolls her eyes and sighs a little too loud out of jealousy and I guess Johnny notices, so later on he like teases her about it and she pretends to hate him when in reality he was one of the things she looked forward to when they first kept her alive, so they kind of like hate fuck? Or jealousy fuck idk, but she ends up riding him at some point,

(also I’m sorry this is so long, I had this whole long elaborate idea in my head 😭)

I finished 😈

Johnny Slaughter x reader

MINORS DNI this is fairly fucked up please spare yourselves

Contains: abuse, angst, blood, degradation, humiliation, knifeplay, mentions of self-harm, implied cannibalism, jealousy, fingering, hate-fucking, and breeding

(Sorry for double spacing, I still don't know how to format on mobile)

Eight months ago, Johnny Slaughter brought you home for dinner. 

Well, he brought you after a full night of fucking you out of your senses in a seedy hotel room. And it was thanks to your chemistry with him that—when he made clear that you were to be the family's next meal—you were able to talk your way out of it. 

"Johnny, you don't have to kill me," you pleaded.

"Well I can't let you go, doll," he said, looking down at you with a predatory gaze. You were in the gruesome basement with the scent of death flooding your nostrils, but nothing felt so visceral as the blade of his Bowie knife at your neck, one wrist flick from ending your life. 

"You don't have to. I can help you." 

He barked a laugh. "Yeah? How so?"

You'd swallowed hard, then placed your hands on his firm chest. He'd raised an eyebrow but didn't pull away. "I'll do what you did to me: lure people back to the house. I'll bring in five times my weight in the first month, I swear."

"You do have a certain," Johnny's eyes flicked down to your breasts, "charm. But how can I trust you?"

"Come with me. If you see me doing anything against you, you can claim to be my caretaker. Say I'm mentally unwell."

"How exactly are people gonna believe me if I say that?" He asked, his head cocked. 

You held out your arm somberly, self-harm scars littering your wrists. "It won't take much convincing, Johnny."

Rather than the usual looks you received when people noticed your scars, Johnny's face lit up. 

"You like the pain, huh?" He'd said in a low tone. 

"Proves I'm still alive, doesn't it?" You responded, a strange sort of calm flooding you at his reaction. You tried to lower your wrist, but Johnny caught it with his free hand. 

He removed the blade from your neck, then brought it to your wrist, making a quick, shallow cut. He then brought the blade to his wrist and made an identical cut. Finally, he brought his wrist to yours and pressed the cuts together, mingling your blood with his.

"Blood oath. If you break my trust, I'll know."

You nodded, adrenaline lighting up every inch of your body, especially the cut.

"Oh, and," his eyes narrowed, and he reached a gloved hand down, cupping you through your shorts, "this pussy is mine. If I hear you slept with another man, I'll kill you both myself."

Once again, you nodded, and watched entranced as he brought your wrist to his lips and licked it, humming contentedly at the back of his throat. 

"Let's see how long you can last, sugar."

—

Now, you and Sissy sat on the couch, watching the only TV channel available when Johnny kicked the front door open. He had a screaming young woman thrown over his shoulder, pounding his back with her fists.

Johnny locked eyes with you, wearing that same predatory smile he often had. Ever since you'd shown an aptitude for luring people back home for slaughter, you and Johnny had become quite competitive. It didn't take long for him to recognize that you had fully assimilated into the family, and he'd allowed you to hunt on your own.

This month, Johnny had been far more successful than you – three kills to your zero. His cockiness was becoming unbearable, and that smug look on his face stirred up a now-familiar ache in your gut.

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms as you turned away from Johnny, sinking deeper into the couch. Sissy looked at you and shook her head as Johnny slammed the door to the basement behind him.

"How you feelin', girly?" Sissy asked, patting your forearm.

You shrugged. "I don't like it when he does better than I do at bringing people home."

Sissy stroked your arm as she leaned closer. "Hon, I don't think that's your problem." She smiled, revealing her tooth gap as she caught your eye. "You wishin' Johnny was the type to settle down, hm?"

Your eyes widened, and you shook your head. "No!" You responded a little too quickly. "I just... I wish he wouldn't sleep with them," you added in a low whisper.

"Well, don't you sleep with those guys you bring home sometimes?" Sissy asked with genuine curiosity.

"No, I..." The oath you made to Johnny flashed in your mind. "I don't."

Sissy giggled. "I'll get grandpa to bed and take Bubba out tonight. Sounds like you and Johnny need to talk."

–

You remained on the couch until the door to the basement clanged open. Johnny had been down there for a while, and by this point, your jealousy had you seeing red. You stood up from the couch and turned to face Johnny in the narrow hallway by the stairs. He wiped his blade off on his bloody shirt and locked eyes with you.

"We need to talk."

"Yeah, you haven't been pullin' nearly as many people as I have. Losin' your touch, sugar?" He taunted, leaning against the staircase and toying with his knife.

You put your hands on your hips. "Some months I got more than you did!"

"Yeah, like that month you brought in those slimy truckers. I couldn't even stomach their rancid, fatty meat." He spat in the corner by the door. "But it figures. You have lower standards than I do."

"'Cause I'm not sleeping with them!" You yelled, your fists trembling at your side.

Johnny's smile grew so wide it reminded you of a great white shark.

"Jealous?" He purred.

Your face heated, and you sputtered. "No, I fucking hate your guts, you piece of shit! Why would I be jealous?"

He pushed off the staircase and approached you slowly, a dangerous sway to his step.

"Needin' some attention? Has mean ole Johnny been denying you?" His tone was sickeningly sweet as he stopped in front of you, making your rage feel small and insignificant in his overwhelming presence.

It was true. When you were first brought home, Johnny had fucked you and only you daily for two straight months. He was the only thing you ever looked forward to in this hellhole, but in the last few months, Johnny had been using you less and less.

And you couldn't deny the anger that swirled in your gut whenever he brought a girl home. You knew how he was; you remembered how he'd hooked you that first night, and some of those girls he brought home had that same cock-drunk look in their eyes, some even willingly descending into the basement before realizing their fate.

It ate you up inside. Johnny had sworn you to him, but he took whoever he pleased, and the jealousy was making you more irritable than usual. You probably would have brought at least two men home this past month if it weren't for your overly-aggressive demeanor scaring them off.

But you couldn't help yourself. When you got horny, you were straightforward about it. Johnny had gotten you used to being with him, and without him to satisfy your urges, you were becoming more unhinged.

So now that Johnny was inches from you, admitting he was neglecting your needs with that cocky grin on his face, you couldn't believe the surge of desire that coursed through you. You hated how your body reacted, despised the urge to close the gap between your bodies, and grab him by his slicked-back hair, mashing your lips onto his. Damn it.

Johnny leaned even closer, whispering against your ear. "I can smell your cunt, you little slut."

Your face flushed deep red, and you pushed Johnny away as hard as you could. He took two staggered steps back, which gave you an odd sense of satisfaction.

That was until his predatory eyes narrowed, sending a shiver down your spine. He closed the distance between you two in one stride and crashed his lips against yours. You stumbled against the wall, cracking the drywall under the force of his kiss. Johnny couldn't care less.

His hands found your shorts, practically tearing them off your body to plunge his thick fingers into your needy core. You gasped and blushed harder as you heard the sound of your wetness squelching around his digits.

"You fucking brat," he growled low in his throat, biting your lip. You whimpered in response as he withdrew from you, bringing his fingers to your lips. You parted them, sucking yourself off him greedily, your eyelids fluttering shut.

When he removed his fingers, he harshly grabbed your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. "You've been a real bitch lately. Are you in heat or something?" He asked mockingly.

"Shut up, Johnny," you panted.

He ignored you entirely, turning your chin from side to side. "You need fucked, don't cha?" A slow grin formed on his handsome face. "Beg me for it."

Blood flooded to your core at his words, but you tore your chin from his grip. The words 'I'd rather die' welled up in your throat, but you realized Johnny might take you up on that offer, so instead, you glared at him.

"I'm waiting, darlin'," he drawled.

Your eyes unwillingly traversed his body, and you thought about how good that muscular form under his bloodied clothes felt against you. The thirst was truly getting to you, and he looked like a tall glass of red-tinted water.

Shame flooded you, and you squeezed your eyes shut. "Please, Johnny," you mumbled.

"What's that, doll? Please, what?" He asked, looking entirely too satisfied with himself.

You gave him a spiteful look, hoping that your hate might set him on fire. "Please, fuck me," you said through gritted teeth.

"Ahh, there's my little kitten. You'll need to do something for me first, though," he said.

"Oh, come on!" You spat. "What could you need from me that you don't already get from your sluts? I'm the one who isn't getting any!"

Johnny couldn't have looked more pleased. "Jealous AND possessive. How pathetic."

Your anger grew white-hot, and you slapped him. Hard.

The instant your hand made contact with his chiseled jaw, you knew you'd made a grave mistake. His eyes narrowed to slits, and he slammed you against the wall by the throat. You felt his blade against your collarbone, digging in, rivulets of blood rapidly staining your shirt.

"I'm sorry!" You squeaked out from between already-bruised lips, memories of the first time you'd begged for your life flooding your senses. He tightened his grip.

"Remember who you owe your life to, dollface," he snarled, pressing the knife deeper. "I like that bitchy mouth of yours, but if you ever try to hit me again, I'll end you. Understand?"

You nodded as tears ran down your cheeks, unable to muster more than the tiniest of breaths. Yet, even as your life balanced on a knife's edge, your desire dripped down your thighs.

Johnny loved a fight, but when he fought, he always had to win. In Johnny's mind, the only true victory was taking his opponent's life. His demand meant he didn't want to kill you, you realized. He was holding himself back because... some part of him wanted you around.

Johnny's eyes moved from yours to your cheeks where tears formed salty streams that raced down to your chin, slipping down your neck and pooling against his grip.

You always knew Johnny loved tears; be they from fear or ecstasy. As light began to prick at the corners of your vision, you wondered if you'd pushed him too far.

All at once, he released you, and you fell to your knees, choking on air.

"Suck my fucking cock," he commanded. He gave you next to no time to recover before his thick length was in your face, stiff and upward-curved. 

Your throat was already aching, and you could barely breathe, but you complied, taking his flushed tip into your warm mouth. 

His cock was salty and musky, and your envy flared. Johnny was never yours, was never going to be yours, but you had grown to crave him, and the fact you were likely tasting another woman on his cock made you livid. 

There was no woman in the world who wanted to please him more than you did, and you were going to show him that he needed you at least half as badly as you needed him. 

You poured all your hate, anger, and devotion to him into sucking his cock. Johnny was a narcissist through and through, and for some fucking reason, you reveled in it. The higher you put him, the higher he brought you with him, and the harder you fell when he spurned you. 

Tears continued to pour down your cheeks as you forced yourself to deep-throat all of him. He let out a delicious groan. "Fuck yeah baby, take it!"

You gagged and sputtered, saliva gushing from your lips when he grabbed the sides of your head and pulled you as far as you possibly could go. He held you there, choking on spit and pre-cum, until you couldn't take it anymore and pushed off his muscular thighs, stumbling backward onto your ass.

Johnny took this as an open invitation. He knelt down in front of you and grabbed your knees, pushing them apart and slotting himself between them. 

"You need this cock, don't you?" He said, using one hand to tease your clit with the slick head. 

"I need it," you respond, your voice raspy.

Johnny grinned wickedly before he plunged into you, making your back arch off the floor and your legs tremble. 

"Knew you were too proud to ask me on your own," he said as he gripped your hair and thrust so deeply into you that you saw stars, "so I wanted to see how long you could hold out. After all, it ain't like I wasn't getting any."

Jealousy bubbled up yet again from your core, and turned those stars in your eyes green. You needed him to know those sluts had nothing on you. They weren't form-fitted to his cock, they weren't so rabidly in… 

Your mind drew a blank. In love?

No! You hate Johnny. He's your captor.  Your judge, jury, and executioner. 

You love him?

You really were pathetic. Tears bloomed in your eyes again, and as Johnny sunk his teeth into your already-bleeding collarbone, you sobbed out loud.

He ground his hips against yours, his cock completely filling you. "There's my girl," he rumbled against your bloody skin. You practically melted. His girl. His. But he wasn't yours. Even though the two of you were clearly sexually compatible, and you couldn't do much more in his personal life for him than you already were, he still remained out of reach.

Then, it hit you. 

"Cum inside me, Johnny," you begged.

His harsh thrusts slowed. "What?" He pulled back and looked down at your tear-swollen eyes gazing back up at him so desperately. "You're joking."

You shook your head.

"Then you're a fucking idiot," he muttered, returning his attention to your neck and rocking his hips so that you felt him at every angle. 

"No, I'm not!" You protested, and you felt his smirk against your neck before he gripped your hips and pulled you closer. 

"You are, but I'll humor you. Why?" 

He wasn't moving, he was just holding you impossibly close, planting small, bruising bites up and down your neck. You felt every inch of him viscerally, and lust clouded your mind as you struggled to articulate your thoughts. 

"I- I want-" you moaned, writhing in his grasp. 

"Speak up, sugar," he chided, digging his fingernails into your hips.

Fuck. Your vision was spinning, and you let your head fall back and hit the hardwood floor. Johnny didn't allow you to rest long; he took one powerful hand and gripped the back of your hair, pulling you to face him. 

"I already know, so why don't ya just admit it?" He whispered, his lips inches from yours. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut, and you squeezed your thighs around his hips. "I want your baby, alright?" You admitted, humiliation mixing ice with the fire in your core. 

"Honey, there've been more women than you who've wanted that. What makes you think you're so special?"

Shame and desire in equal measure painted your cheeks, but you finally knew what to say. 

"I'm the only one you kept." 

He hummed against your pulse point. "You already kinda act like a mama; cleaning the house and makin' my favorites for dinner." Johnny's lips, which had traced a path along your neck, paused for a moment. He lifted his head slightly, his dark eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "But I thought you hated me."

"Hate you so much it reached the end and flipped to the other side, I guess," you conceded.

Johnny rewarded you by slowly resuming his thrusts, giving you the cock you craved so primally. "I hate you too, baby. I hate how every damn thing you do drives me crazy, how you make me lose control then force me to keep you safe from me." 

He leaned close, fire burning in his gaze. "I hate that I can't kill you 'cause I can't imagine my life without you in it." 

In that moment, as your lips met again, it was a collision of contradictions—the fierce passion that had grown in the midst of hate and chaos.

Johnny was on a mission now, and you felt it in every fiber of your being. He sat up on his knees and pulled you into his lap without breaking the kiss, pistoning his cock so deeply you felt the head bruising your cervix. 

But you didn't care, you reveled in the pain. Johnny was claiming you, finally. All those women, and none had him like this—breeding them like the bitch in heat that you were. You moaned so loud Johnny broke the kiss with a cruel laugh. 

"You hopeless little slut," he chided as he moved one hand to your back and bent toward your chest. He licked at the still fresh blood before reaching your nipple, rolling it between his teeth and sending shockwaves through you. 

You gripped his shoulders and rode him harder. A low groan escaped his lips, and you felt his length somehow become even more hard before a warmth spread through your core as his cum shot deep inside you. The sensation was too much to bear and you came as well, holding onto him for dear life as you rode out your orgasms together. 

When he was done, he laid you back down on the floor and stood, leaning against the wall and gazing down at you, the girl he'd chosen to claim entirely. 

You laid spread-eagle on the floor, your chest caked in blood, wanting to meet his eyes but unable to move as his precious cum seeped from your abused pussy. 

"Get used to this," Johnny said, as he grabbed a cigarette from his pants pocket and lit up, "you want my baby, you're gonna get it."

[invidiia]

love your writing! general yan chuuya + akutagawa hcs?

❐ - yandere!chuuya and yandere!akutagawa (separate) headcanons

note ; did yall see brian's (akutagawa's eng va) tiktok??? he's finding all the weird shit we've said, speaking for the fandom at least 😭i lowkey feel so bad for him LMAO. but i should say thIs now, if anyone who voices the bsd characters finds these posts i will literally disappear and probs cry myself to sleep for the rest of the month. other note? WHOEVERS MAKING THE SUBMARINE X BSD FICS ON AO3 PLS STOP BC I CANNOT BREATHEEE

prompt ; general yandere headcanons for ryuunosuke akutagawa and chuuya nakahara (both separately)

warnings ; yandere themes, kidnapping, murder, drugging, stalking, obsession, guilt tripping

masterlist - rules - previous

CHUUYA NAKAHARA ;

chuuya is incredibly overprotective. this man has awful trust issues - being betrayed by the people he cared so much for in his past, he just can't risk anything this time.

he's constantly keeping an eye on you, even before he can admit to himself that he loves you. but after he confessed, he understood why he wanted to protect you so much, even if it took time to come to terms with that fact.

if you rejected him, then he tries to tell himself that he would get over it, and that he's been betrayed so much, so why be so upset over simple rejection? you even let him off easy, so there was no reason to be so sad, right? you were still friends.

but chuuya was still upset. his love, no, obsession, didn't go away. he convinced himself it took time to get over something like this, so he took a month doing things to get you off his mind.. but he just couldn't. every single thing reminded you of him, nothing could take you out of his head.

he came to terms with the fact that you just didn't love him, but he didn't care. chuuya knew he was obsessed, and between removing anything that reminds him of you and seeing other people, nothing was working.

so chuuya did what he thought would be best at this point - not to mention, it wasn't his first option, - kidnapping you. being in the port mafia, it especially wasn't difficult to get a hold of some kind of sedative, or any drug for that matter.

obiviously, he didn't want to do this. chuuya could try to convince himself it was for your protection and not his own muse, but it didn't stop the fact you were basically his now. at first. he'll tell himself not to hurt anyone for you, but the moment you're in public, and another man walks up to you and begins to ask for your number, he's already snatching you away without thinking.

chuuya is definitely the type to give you gifts upon gifts, putting money to good use as an apology to you. but even though you tell him the best apology gift would be to let you go, he just gives you something else. you want to go back to your own house? maybe one day, but do you want a dog? they're better company that being by yourself all the time.

he understands you. he knows you want to be free, because he knows what it's like. but chuuya can't just let you go. he's lost so many people, he doesn't want to lose you, too.

RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA ;

akutagawa will avoid you.

upon meeting, he just thought you were just too bright for him. the man knew he was no good.

he doesn't want to corrupt you, therefore, he stayed away.. but akutagawa found himself following you everywhere. maybe he wanted to protect you of some sort, keeping himself hidden until a weird individual cornered you in an alleyway. thirty seconds later, a dark, black monster thing of some sort that slammed the other into the brick wall next to you. the next thing you saw was a glimpse of a tall man in a coat walking away. you thought it'd be the last of it, but no.

akutagawa spends time stalking you, from picking up objects you dropped after conveniently being there, to putting a knife to the throat of the person who got your coffee order wrong. you told them you were allergic to that specific ingredient, were they TRYING to kill you?

it takes akutagawa so long to even bring himself to talk to you. a simple 'hello' takes hours of looking at himself in the mirror and saying it to make sure he doesn't screw it up and look weird while he actually says it. (same aku, same.)

he'll do anything for you. you could ask him for anything, he'd go get it just because you asked. akutagawa doesn't care if it hurts him, or other people, he craves your love and validation, and reassurance that you don't hate him.

at first, he denies how much he wants you, he tries to tell himself that he needs nobody, especially not you, not someone he needed. but akutagawa could barely run from it, he was so obsessed. he will continue to deny his feelings, but it doesn't stop you.

if you try to run from him, he'll remind you why you're even alive in the first place. if it weren't for him, you would have been dead in an alleyway forever ago. nobody would have saved you that time. who else would treat you the way he does?

[motherloads]

My Love Mine all Mine

I kept rewriting this idea. Is it good? Probs not. But, did I need something to fuel me? Yes. Ahm, it was supposed to be happy but. Ig I'm in a sad mood.

This fic was SO close to being named "Glimpse of Us." But there is no other man or woman that they're with so it didn't match.

Probs OOC Simon.

Summary: Simon always dreams of you. He isn't sure why. But, you're always so sweet. But, you aren't real. He's never seen you before. He doesn't know your name. He knew you were caring. Dream him, he felt the love he held for you. From a mission gone wrong, he finds himself in your home. He convinced himself you weren't real. But how could he lie to himself when he can feel your skin under his hands? He has you now.

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley/Reader

Other Tags: Scarlet Witch! Reader, Marvel/COD Crossover

Never proof read.

⋆｡°✩

My baby, here on earth. Showed me what my heart was worth. So, when it comes to be my turn. Could you shine it down here for her?

“You’re a good boy, Simon.” The voice whispers to him, their fingers running over his mask quietly. “Such a good boy.” They leave a soft kiss, where his mouth should be. He doesn’t reciprocate, but he almost feels the need to. He hears them softly giggle, but he doesn’t quite open his eyes. He didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to see who it was. 

Who were they? Why were they treating him like this? Why wasn’t he stopping them? 

The thoughts that ran in his mind increased as time went on, as they began running their soft and delicate fingers on his neck, to his shoulders, on his arms. Until their hands found his own. They held him, bringing his hands to their mouth. They leave small kisses. He felt the residue of gloss stay. 

“I’ll see you soon, Simon. Calm down.” They whisper, pulling away. He chases after their warmth, running his hands on the side of their hips, squeezing tightly. They felt so real. 

This time, he opens his eyes to try and see who they were. He only sees the outline of a woman. He couldn’t see her clearly, but he could see the light wisps of red surrounding her. He said nothing as his eyes closed again. 

This was just a dream. He would wake up soon enough. 

The little he slept should not have bothered him. Usually, it doesn’t. He could easily avoid sleeping or eating without facing the repercussions. One of the many he was trained to learn and endure. But somehow, this did bother him. It felt as if he hadn’t slept at all. He felt, the rare occasions when the women visited, she drained almost everything he stored for the missions. She bothered him. He has never met her before. So why was she constantly bothering him?

His constant questions were cut off when Soap nudged him with his shoulder. He hears him, “You okay, L.T.?” He grunts in response, moving forward.

They were on a mission, he shouldn't be distracted. But he is. He shouldn’t be thinking about the woman who does not exist. She is merely a figment of his imagination. Unreal. He knew he would never experience this. He couldn’t experience this. He would not allow himself to. He couldn’t be distracted. 

Somehow he is. His thoughts, a hindrance to his capabilities and warrior in the battlefield. He hears Soaps shouts, Laswell in his ear. He hears Gaz, alongside Price. He could hear them, but he couldn’t see them. How could things go so wrong? He coughs, surrounded by smoke. He gets separated. At some point, he feels two bullets knick him. With the surrounding sounds, Soap's voice getting more scattered, he feels his breathing become more shallow. 

He’s inside a building, surveying one of the bullets. There was no exit wound, as he slightly hissed in annoyance from the pain blossoming. He’s focused on the blood pouring out, having no necessary tools to remove the bullet. He lifts up his head, looking around for anything to assist him. He freezes, seeing small eyes peer at him in curiosity. Her eyes lingered, twiddling her thumbs as she continued  to watch Simon. 

He didn’t know there were still civilians in this area. 

“You’re not like Tony Stark, are you?” She carefully questions, hesitantly stepping closer to the man. He shuffles back in response, refusing to respond to the kid. Her questions did raise his own.

She doesn’t take his silence as an answer, “She doesn’t like men like you.” She continues, rubbing her hands on her dirty pants. Her red shirt, riddled with dirt, had blotches of dried blood. 

“Where are your parents, kid?” He rasps, “Go back to them before you get hurt.” 

“I’m already hurt.” She frowns, shaking her head at the man, “You don’t get it, do you?” 

“Get what.” He growls, leaning his head back. He shuts his eyes, trying to rid his headache. 

“She’ll hurt you,” was all the girl said. When Simon opened his eyes again, she was gone. 

It’s silent again. Too silent. The blood loss increased, the smoke from before affecting him more than it should have.

Maybe that is what she wanted. 

His strength is wavering. If he loses consciousness, he fears he may see her again. He didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. 

He accepts it, though. Waiting to feel the hint of eerie calmness before the storm hits.

You watch him sleep, silently patching his wounds up. The bullets were gone, by your courtesy. You hum a familiar tone quietly, one of the corny shows you loved watching when you were younger. You glance at the man with the mask, tilting your head as you reach out to run your fingers down the outline of the skull. He doesn’t move. You pull away to glance at the array of guns on your kitchen table. Then, you look at the woman, sitting deep in thought, running her own hands through the book she was reading. 

The Scarlet Witch looks up, feeling the eyes on her. She doesn’t say anything, looking back down at the book in front of her. She acted as if the book held all the secrets known to man. But you knew. 

It was simply a new recipe book. 

You turn back to the man, although unsure of his name and why you found him ways away from the battle currently going on. You didn’t bother to read his mind. Maybe you should have, to make sure he would not hurt you. (As if he was capable of doing so with your abilities.) But, if he was with the men who had started this battle, then you would kill him with a flick of your hand. 

The Scarlet Witch herself, with the whispers in your ear, convinced you to bring the man into your home. You were one and the same, but sometimes you felt the Scarlet Witch left important information out. 

Your thoughts get cut off, when the man suddenly coughs, breathing heavily from the residue of smoke you found in his lungs. You grab the water bottle, pushing it up to the man who pushed your hand away. You feel his glaring through his mask, as he pushes himself off the couch and away from you. 

“Careful there,” You warn, "Don’t want to pull your stitches.” You open the water, hearing the click. To show it wasn’t tampered with, you take a sip. Then, you extended it back to him. He still refuses to take it, despite how constant he needed to clear his throat. You put it down on the table.  It was weird, doing the exact same thing your captors used to do to you.

The Scarlet Witch was long gone. Leaving the book unopened and on the page she left off on. 

You see the man glance at the guns on the kitchen table. Then, he looks back at you. Quickly, he goes to snatch the closest one to him. He points it at you, gesturing for you to put your hands up. He only held the gun in one hand, holding his side with the other. “What did you do to me?” 

You say nothing. Simon grows irritated, his voice raising, “I said. What did you do to me!” He grips the gun tighter, “If you don’t answer in five seconds, I’m putting a bullet through your head.” “I didn’t do anything,” You calmly respond, “Calm down.” He freezes at your words, grasping at the familiar words he has heard before. 

“It’s you,” He breathes, “You’re the woman.” You furrow your brows in confusion, tilting your head at his realization. You didn’t recognize the man. 

“I’m sorry? I’m unsure of what you’re entailing.” You murmur to the man. “Sit down. Put the gun down and explain it to me?” You smile softly, letting yourself slightly manipulate his decision. Hesitantly, Simon sits. He puts the gun down. 

He isn’t sure why he followed your words. 

“You-” He cuts himself off, wincing from the wound you had just finished dressing before he woke up, “You took out the bullets?” You confirm with a hum. He sees your fingers twitch. Sees you run your hands together, as if nervous. 

“You were bleeding to death.” Is all you said. “I found you that way.” You glance at the flag on his chest, pursing your lips, you look back up to him, “You were the ones sent to infiltrate? I’ve seen the ones before you. Many deaths.” 

Simon doesn’t respond, instead, he leans with his own questions, “Who are you?” 

You introduce yourself, from there Simon doesn’t say anything else. You wait for him to say his name, but he says nothing. 

“What is your name?” You question. 

“You should already know,” He shot back, “You always say it.” You shake your head in response, smiling sadly at the man you still did not recognize. The only man of significance in your head, has been dead for quite some time. 

Maybe not in this Universe. But in another, you had lost your other half long ago. 

“I don’t.”

“You’re the woman. In my dreams. You’re always…There. I have never seen your face until now. But I know your voice,” He growls, his fingers twitching to hold something. Anything. He holds his knees tightly in response. 

You shake your head, “I’m sorry. I don’t know you.” You insisted, Standing up, you brush a strand of your hair away. Your hairstyle had gone haywire from how unkept you left it. You see no humans, you had no reason to do anything anymore.

Maybe you should have cut it like Natasha. 

Shaking your head, you push the water to the man still sitting down. “Heal. You will need it once you leave.” You pause, looking at the guns still on display on your kitchen table. “None have bullets, by the way.” Smiling, you leave the clueless man to his own devices. 

You learn that the man has taken on the name Ghost. Nothing else, just Ghost. You constantly felt his presence in your home, but he never pushed for more conversation. You could tell that he was trying to find his bullets. Anything. But, you continued with your daily chores. From maintaining your garden, feeding the animals. Hell, even nursing the mother and her kittens who found comfort in your home. You worked on anything. 

You run your hands through the clothing you were washing. The soap increased as you continued to lather through the grime from constantly being in the garden. You feel a presence near you, watching you. You glance at Ghost, his familiar mask peering down at you. He still wore the same clothes. 

“I have clothes that can fit you, if you’d like to take a shower. No offense, but you’re starting to reek.” You smile at him, continuing on rubbing the dirt off of your clothing. 

He doesn’t respond, but you do see his head tilt in question. “You know where my room is. It’s the bottom drawer.” He disappears soon after, taking you up on the offer. 

It’s quiet, only the chirps of the birds and your animals. You move on to letting your clothing air dry. Wiping the sweat off of your forehead, you nod to yourself at the job. At that moment, Ghost returns. You look at the outfit, seeing a familiar long sleeve and sweats. 

“Husbands?” He asks gruffly, the shirt being tight on his figure. The sweatpants, surprisingly fit him. The ones you made to appear out of thin air. 

“No,” You begin dumping the water out, “He’s long gone.” 

Ghost felt inclined to help you. He knew he had overextended his stay, but he couldn't help it. He needed to know more about you. Who you were. What you did for a living. Why you never left him alone. He needed to know before he left. He convinced himself, that he would be the one leaving willingly.

Even with the little he slept, he still had the dreams of you. It was just you. Sometimes, you said little things that made his heart hurt.

"You are my sadness and you are my hope. But mostly, you're my love." You murmured to him, running your hands through his hair. His face was uncovered, as you smiled down at him from your place on his lap. You kiss his forehead, eyes glimmering in pure love at him. Your love, for him.

"You could never hurt me," You're below him this time, your hand reaching out to lay on his cheek. The same exact look on your face. The same one as always that he continued to love with all his heart. He sees his hands stay on your hips, pulling you closer as your laughs filled the room.

He never says anything in these dreams, always afraid to ruin the moment. But, even if he tried to, he felt he was never in control of the dreams he lived through.

One, stuck to him deeply. Once again, you were touching him. He felt like crying--No. He was crying. It wasn't a breakup or anything. It wasn't anything sad. No. "They're twins, Simon." You whispered, a smile on your face as you brought his rough hands onto your stomach. "Boys." He holds you closer in this dream, shaking as you soothed him. His head lay in the crook of your neck, soaking your turtleneck with his tears. He felt what dream Simon felt.

He was ready for the twins.

Throughout this time, he continued to follow you, sometimes helping you hold your items when asked. He collected the eggs quietly, like you asked him to. Even when one of cows was prepared to have their own, he helped.

“The dreams people have are the glimpses of the other lives they could have lived. The appearances of the other Universes,” You spoke calmly, seasoning the meat you were preparing to cook for dinner, “I’ve had dreams where I was a zombie. Another where I died in a burst of red.” 

You pause, moving the meat to the stove. You watched it sizzle. “I’ve heard the voices of my sons calling out for me.” You calmly say, smiling sadly, thinking of the voices of the two boys who asked you for help. Who begged for their mom.

"Sons?" He asks.

"Twins," You confirm. "I was a twin once."  He keeps that information to himself, seeing your smile that twitched.

“What are you trying to say?” Ghost questions, taking over on cooking the meat. You stand behind him. 

“The dreams that you’ve had of me. They’re real.” Is what you say, moving on to the salad you were going to prepare, “I reckon that’s one of the little that I have seen where I am happy. Where I haven’t experienced or done all that I have done.” You hum, “You must think I’m crazy.” 

“I’ve known the minute you brought me into your home.” Ghost responds, his back turned to you. “I’m inclined to believe you.” “Why?” You question him. 

“The books you’ve tried to hide for one thing. You like Witchcraft?” 

You giggle at his words at first. Then, it turns into a full blown laugh as you double over. He ignores you, focusing on the meat in front of him.

“Nothing is lost in your eyes, are they?” You stifle your laughter, running your hand down your mouth. You held the collar of your shirt, pressing lightly over your beating heart. 

“The ruins around your home cannot be ignored.” He gruffly responds, shaking his head with a sigh, “Your home is in a vast clearing, but I have seen nobody pass through. The only animals evident are the ones you own.” 

“You’re quite certain that I’m a Witch. What if I simply enjoy the crafts? I’m just superstitious,” You giggle, pushing the salad aside as you move to sit on the counter to watch him cook the meat. 

He wouldn’t try to hurt you, he would know better. He stays silent, unsure how to respond to your question or how to confirm what he knows. You take the silence as an answer. Instead of continuing the conversation, you reach out to the side of his balaclava. One of his hands shoots out, effectively stopping you from touching it. You only smile back, not moving your hand away from his grip. He carefully lets go, as your hands run on the little seams you can see. You continue onto the outline of the skull. Running down to his shoulder, the soft cotton of the clothing he was borrowing moved under your motions. 

You felt real. 

You ran your hand down to his arms, swirling it in a specific motion that caused shivers down his spine. From the hand not focusing on the meat, you let your fingers intertwine. 

"It's unfair to dream of the world we deserve. The life we deserve. It's unfair others live the life that we have yearned for our whole lives." You stare down at your conjoined hands. You rub your thumb atop his covered hand.

“Such a good boy.” You murmur, bringing his hand to your lap. He doesn’t say anything. His free hand gripping onto the meat he had now deemed ready to remove. When he turns off the stove, he provides his full attention to you. He turns his body to you, but he still doesn’t say anything. 

You bring your other hand to his covered cheek, he slightly leans into your touch. He was almost there, but not quite close. You smooth the creases using your thumb. Simon closes his eyes. 

“Simon,” He grunts quietly, “Simon Riley.” 

It’s as if he can sense your smiling. Your hands do not stop from how you continued to touch him. 

“You’re a good boy, Simon,” You murmur, his breath hitches from your comment. 

He’s fully leaning into your hand, bringing his head down onto your forehead. You hum a tune unfamiliar to him, but familiar to you. When you released your hand from his own, he didn’t expect you to hold both sides of his covered face. 

He feels the ghost of your lips in between his eyes. Then, he feels it near the corner of his left eye. You move on to the right. Then to his nose. 

He stills when your lips ghost his own. 

“I wish we can stay together, Simon,” You whisper, moving away from his lips. He could still feel your breath, though. “Love is not possible for me. It never will be.” 

“Why?” He places both of his hands over yours, squeezing, “Why?” He repeats. 

“I”m undeserving of this. What I have done, the lives lost because of me. I have lost everything before. I bring Chaos wherever I go. Why do you think I live isolated? I’m not risking your life,” You leave one last peck on his clothed mouth. 

“This was a mistake.”

He opens his eyes, immediately noticing the unshed tears. You smile at him sadly, “You are a dream.” “I just feel you.” 

Simon remembers nothing else but your warmth. The last thing he sees is the red surrounding his head. The red wisps resonating from your palms. 

"You'll grieve. It will be bad," You whisper in his ear. Everything is dark. It's so dark. Why can't he see anything? Where are you?" "But what is grief, if not love persevering?"

When he awakens, he is surrounded by medical equipment. Immediately, he stands up, looking around frantically. From his movement, he startles Soap awake. Despite being groggy, Soap immediately goes to his side, pushing him back down. 

“Ay, get back down L.T., You’re not well,” The Scottish man reprimands, struggling to get Simon to calm down, “We found ya surrounded by dead bodies. Jeez, ya put up a fight.” 

“Where is she,” Simon rasps, his voice felt like he hadn’t spoken in ages, “Where is she, Johnny?” 

“Who?” Soap questions, “There was no lass around.” 

“I was-” Simon continues to struggle, “She’s real. I know she’s real.” 

As if he could hear Soap’s struggle, Price enters the room, immediately going to help Soap. When they have Simon restrained, he is still breathing heavily. 

“Where is she?” Simon continues to ask, his eyes searching everywhere for a glimpse of her. Just her. Where is she? 

He needed her. He needed to see her. She was real. He knows she was real. He felt her. He knows her. 

“I need her,” His eyes, so far away, look out the window as a wisp of red leaves him from the corner of his eyes. 

She’s real. 

He just felt you.

[iicloudyiiddyy]

I saw that you wanted requests, and then I saw that you write for sally face and I rushed right over! Currently thrown back into my sally face obsession lol. Anyways, could I request some platonic headcanons for a fem reader being part of the main gang? Basically just what it's like to be friends with them and being part of their group, what kind of shenanigans reader gets into with them, just friendship stuff if that's okay ^^ and feel free to throw some romantic stuff in there like who is most likely to develop a crush on reader. Hopefully this isnt too much I'm sorry if it is

ᴀ/ɴ : AHHHH! I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I READ THIS. LIKE IM BEAMING WITH JOY AS I WRITE THIS. DON’T YOU DARE APOLOGIZE!! I LOVE SALLY FACE AND HAVEN’T GOT A SF REQ IN A LOOONGGG TIME AND IM JUST SO HAPPY TO HEAR SOMEONE FROM THE OTHER SIDE AGAIN LOL! This isn’t too much at all and I’m so hyped to write this! Please enjoy! ♡︎

INTRODUCTION 

I feel like it is Ashely who originally introduced you to the group

You two were originally pretty close friends and she decided to bring you more!

Now for the first impressions…

Larry would immediately warm up to you

you two would hit it off as if you didn’t know what the word stranger was!

Todd would sorta be indifferent to you originally

smiles and nods at you but goes on with tinkering with his projects 

But I feel like sally would be awkward at first with you..

Like how he reacted when he first saw Ashley…imagine how he reacted with you! 

He was originally worried on how you would react to his prosthetic 

But you never showed any negative expressions!

You had nothing but love and support to give!

And you were funny and pretty!

How was he supposed to react to that?

But as you guys hung out more and as Todd and sal saw how you interacted with the other half of the group they would warm up considerably more!

   NOW WITH THE GROUP!

I feel like it would be so hectic…

But so fun at the same time..

You and Todd would so have study sessions together! 

Sometimes Larry would join but we all know you never get any work done with him around

Todd and you could talk for hours about the most interesting topics! 

Larry would most definitely put his two cents here and there and it would always crack you up!

Todd would always be exasperated but Larry means well!

Larry and you would be the best of twins.

When I say you two get into the deepest shit together I mean it.

He’s your partner in crime what can you say?

With Ashley I can see her having painting sessions with you and sal would just be in the back struggling..

You guys definitely have treehouse hangs!

If you got into some demonic shenanigans that treehouse would be your go to.

You and sal would be smoke buddies, if he can’t hang with Larry than it has to be you

He finds you so endearing 

NEVER LEAVE THAT MAN ALONE WHEN HES HIGH

he can get so scared if his own thoughts…(ᗒᗣᗕ)՞

But one day you two are just chilling high asf and his munchkin of a cat comes crawling over 

Immediately you cherish gizmo and he cherishes you. 

Probs likes you more than sal

Sal already liked you but seeing this?

A fellow cat person?? Say less 

As soon as sally saw that he was never letting you go.

Now for the shenanigans you guys get into….

I can just see larry convincing you guys to try out this goofy Oujii board with cheeto dust he saw off E-Bay

And Todd’s like “ it would be good data..”

So here you guys are speed running through the halls because the demons wasn’t in the mood to deal with 5 emotionally traumatized teenagers..

May or may not have accidentally let more demons in Addison apartments

You and Ashley have friend ship bracelets. It’s just a fact!

Feel like you, Larry and sal would go to a gas station in the ungodly hours of the day and create the worst abominations with candy, Gatorade, packets of sauce, and yogurt and have you guys try them.

Probably pranked Todd with some of the worst ones..

For romance I would feel like Ashley would love to draw in you if you were her S/O 

(TW) : if you had sh scars are any scars of any kind she would draw hearts and stars on them

Same thing with sal, he loves kissing them,

making sure you feel the love he never got

For the one who would be most likely to develop a crush… 👀 

I think sal would..

If you showed never wavering love and devotion to that man he would just melt 

actually tears up if he showed you his face and you didn’t recoil back 

Like what did he do to deserve you?

Nothing bbg it’s all you

*sobs* give him love!

If you were with Larry I imagine you guys having late night drives…

Listening to ear fracturing death metal as you talk about your guys hopes and dreams..

Tʜᴀᴛs ɪᴛ ғᴏʀ ɴᴏᴡ! I ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴs!! I ᴡᴏʀᴋ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴍʏ ᴀɴᴏɴs ғᴇᴅ! ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʟᴇᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴋɴᴏᴡ! ɪ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2!

ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴀɴᴏɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜɪs! ɪ sᴍɪʟᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇ I ᴡʀᴏᴛᴇ ᴛʜɪs! ᴀs ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ᴅᴏɴ’ᴛ ʙᴇ ᴀғʀᴀɪᴅ ɪɴ sᴇɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ʀᴇǫs! I ʟᴏᴠᴇ sᴘᴇᴡɪɴɢ ᴍʏ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀʟᴅ! ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʟɪᴋᴇ, ʀᴇʙʟᴏɢ , ᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴛ, ᴏʀ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴛᴏ sᴜᴘᴘᴏʀᴛ! THANK YOU ♡︎

[androidcharles]

I'll prob answer some more asks tomorrow (unless I get caught up in a project I'll be receiving in the mail), but in the meantime, because no one asked this, I'm going to give you guys a peek at the fate of Amelia in all the other timelines that aren't Triple Threat. So we all know that because Amelia was accidentally left behind in the Triple Threat timeline, she was able to bring the Toppat Clan back and (kinda) make friends with Charles. What about the other timelines though, hmmmm?

Cleaned 'em Out: Nothing much changes from this ending, except that she literally helps with the man hunt to find whoever might have stolen their treasures. Relationship w/ Henry: BAD Relationship w Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: Charles ends up getting captured as a bargaining chip for Henry, but after he makes it very clear that he's not too fond of Henry after what he pulled w/ Ellie, he's more than willing to help the Toppats corner him w/ some help from the gov't forces on the agreement that they don't cause trouble while this is happening AND they get to procure half of the treasures.

Valiant Hero: In a heroic sacrifice, she ends up, like Charles, perishing in the explosion of the space station Relationship w/ Henry: N/A Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: They say AIs don't go to heaven... but what about androids who want nothing more than to see each other again?

Special BROvert OPs: She ends up hiding away during the mass government arrest and ends up 'joining' the government in order to infiltrate them, find weaknesses and eventually free the Clan BUUUTTT... Relationship w/ Henry: Kind of sees him as an annoying older brother, but still tolerates him nonetheless Relationship w/ Ellie: Talks to her on occasion because she promised her a high status in the clan if she did, BUUUUTTTTT!!!! Relationship w/ Charles: Once she finds out that Charles is a part of the government forces, she begins to have second thoughts about betraying the government's trust. She does grow close to him, only this time it's not as bad as it should have been.

Jewel Baron: Her body gets cut in half when Henry deflects Supreme Dominance with the oversized emerald, damaging her horribly and ending her life Relationship w/ Henry: N/A Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: N/A

Pardoned Pals: She was off rocket helping defend when the rocket exploded, so she swears revenge on the people who dared to hurt her family... Relationship w/ Henry: BAD Relationship w/ Ellie: VERY BAD Relationship w/ Charles: At this point, she doesn't care that he's her father reborn. He's literally going to die because of what he condoned...

Toppat Recruits: She ends up accidentally getting left behind, however she accidentally rescues Charles and haves him held prisoner until she can convince him to join the Toppats. They treat him well under orders from Reginald, but they're having a hard time budging him. Relationship w/ Henry: Sees him as a nuisance, but also a useful asset to get Charles to join the Toppats (considering you know what) Relationship w/ Ellie: Doesn't really see her much as a big sister, but like her dad and papa but... a girl XD Relationship w/ Charles: While he's pretty nasty towards other Toppats, he's pretty nice to her all things considered. While he might not have thoughts of joining, he's grateful there's at least one Toppat that doesn't seem to treat him like garbage.

Stickmin Space Resort: At first, she resented Henry for ruining the Toppat rocket plan, but after finding out that the other Toppats up in space seem to be happier, she ends up dealing with it and joining the government against her father's wishes Relationship w/ Henry: She frequently talks to him every now and again over instant messenger. While she finds his overuse of memes annoying, she finds him tolerable Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: Because she ends up joining the government forces, she ends up reuniting w/ Charles and they end up becoming good friends.

Free Man: She sacrifices her ultra battery life, the one that's supposed to keep her alive for FIFTY YEARS to give the Toppat Space Station enough power for all the Toppats to escape. Right leaves w/o her, leaving her body in space... And putting her on a disposable hard drive until they can get her a new body... than they can get revenge on Henry Stickmin... Relationship w/ Henry: SHE WANTS HIM DEAD Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: N/A

Capital Gains: Of course, she's out for revenge against the two jerks who decided to kill her papa, why wouldn't she be? Relationship w/ Henry: BAD Relationship w/ Ellie: BAD Relationship w/ Charles: N/A

Little Nest Egg: While she's a bit upset that their money was stolen (and even more so that Mr. MacBeth died trying to protect them), she's willing to let it go, as they'll get more riches soon enough. Relationship w/ Henry: N/A Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: N/A

Master Bounty Hunter: Let's just say anger doesn't even begin to describe how she feels about Henry taking her father away from her... Relationship w/ Henry: KILL HIM KILL HIM KILL HIM Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: She doesn't care if she knew him in the past, he helped w/ her other fathers capture, therefore he's going to get GOT!

Toppat Civil Warfare: Ends up becoming Ellie's right hand after finding out that her fathers perished at the hands of the escape pod the former leader Henry escaped in Relationship w/ Henry: Since he basically mutilated her papa and killed both her fathers... I'd say very bad Relationship w/ Ellie: Trusts her enough to have her lead the clan and considers her a mother Relationship w/ Charles: Ends up enlisting his help from time to time to help locate Henry, despite her criminal background

Toppat King: It takes her a bit to get used to Henry being the leader than her dad, but she's willing to accept it if her father is, so while it takes a while for her to warm up to him, she's content nonetheless Relationship w/ Henry: Rocky at first, but slowly gets better overtime. Sometimes she accidentally calls him dad. He never lets her get over these little instances. Relationship w/ Ellie: Kind of the same as TCW, only Ellie isn't hell bent on killing Henry Relationship w/ Charles: N/A... maybe...

Toppat 4 Life: Same as Toppat King minus Ellie. Relationship w/ Henry: Same as Toppat King Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: N/A... once again maybe...

Revenged: Her memories were completely erased after she was recovered from the Toppat Airship debris and she was retrained to be government pilot like Charles. Relationship w/ Henry: N/A, but not good when he was alive Relationship w/ Ellie: N/A Relationship w/ Charles: Since they both have so much in common, they seem to good friends! Though Amelia can't help but feel she knows Charles from somewhere...

And that's it. Sorry for any sadness I might have caused by the way... it hurt me too to type out half of that shit...

[grntaire]

gender? i hardly know her!!!

(ranting abt my gender and sexuality. prob more personal than i should put on the internet but i am feeling Raw)

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i literally do not know. who i am lmao. i identified as cis (afab) and bi from the age of like, 13 i think? and that didn't change until i was 22 or so and i was like... she/they?? maybe?? which turned into they/she which turned into they/them which led me to nonbinary and pansexual which is where i've been chilling. but i don't even know if that feels right. like yes i am a girl but no i'm not a woman (i'm 25 so like, that Should Be a descriptor that i feel comfortable with. but it's not?) but im also not a girl either. my gender is more akin to like, the embodiment of chaos, lmao. i am everything and nothing all at the same time.

(i'm gonna use very much binary language here–i've personally only ever been with cis men or cis women, so when i use the binary language i'm specifically referring to it in terms of my experience) my sexuality is even more confusing to me now which is crazy?? my first crush was on a boy, and i had crushes on boys and girls through middle school and high school. i had a crush on my best friend in middle school and she was my first kiss. it felt like magic and i loved every second of kissing her. i ended up breaking up with her after a month or so and i still to this day don't know why. i think i was feeling like, constricted in it. drowning in the attention. also i was 13 and was living on a diet of nothing but nutella and pretzels so who the fuck knows lmao.

but as a teenager it oddly seemed so much more clear to me? my attraction to ppl was different and based off of their gender. like for me, my attraction towards girls was very emotionally based and the more i got to know them the more i wanted to be physical with them, too. with boys it was kind of the opposite, in a way, but not always. i didn't date any girls in high school–i had a big ol crush on one in particular but that was my Oh, She's Straight moment. i dated two boys. the first was a super nice dude who i hope is doing well. i broke up with him after 7 months or so i think? i was straight up convinced i was a lesbian. and then i dated a boy like two months later. i was OBSESSED with this dude. like, hormones gone wild, really just wanted to destroy this mf. he broke up w me after a month out of the blue, and i was devastated for a minute. in college i dated a dude for 2.5 years. he sucks.

my current partner is a man, we've been together for about 2 years. he is the kindest person i know. and yet i still constantly find myself second guessing everything. which, granted, i've always done. when i've been with women i second guess everything too. i think they're intrusive thoughts, and they'll look like "do you even like men/women?" a lot of it, too is that i don't think i've had the feelings of A Crush since i was a teenager, truthfully. i mean w my partner now, i'd get excited when his name would pop up on my phone, but there was no like, pining or whatever. loving him has always been easy and we got together easy.

so where i sit now is that i love my partner. but do i want an open relationship? am i poly? what if i like, actually am a lesbian and it's been comphet this whole time? but i have felt like, absolutely feral abt men before. but then i'll be like, fuck, what if the whole time i've been straight? but is that just from the desire to feel wanted? from the societal pressure to feel wanted by a man? that the act of being wanted by a man is proof that i am attractive enough and worthy? or am i second guessing these things bc my partner isn't what i need in a partner, regardless of gender. do i need someone more extroverted, who matches my energy more? can i bear the weight of being the outgoing one? and how do i cope with the fact that by choosing a partner i'm loosing connections that i could be forging with other people? but even if i'm poly, what does that mean for me? for my partner?

i am Overthinking so much. all of the time. and how much of it is intrusive thought and how much of it is... not, is incredibly hard to discern. i feel deeply tied to my queerness but i don't even know what my queerness is.

ik this is very oversharing but if u read this i appreciate u. u gay people in my phone make me feel less alone sometimes, mwah.

[anerol152]

hi, it me again! "Now we don’t know as much about her childhood as we could, but we do know that Mia was present for at least a part of it before Chris of all people was the main parental figure she seems to acknowledge (which, I need more information about that because???)" here's the bit we know and it makes me angy: mia, chris, and his guys told her NOTHING about Ethan other than "he died protecting you" like!! after the hide and seek mannequin stuff she just says!! "i don't know the first thing about him" and later as she tries to piece things together she says "is Michael my dad?" and later "we're almost there, Michael" ...which makes me doubt she even knew his name ;-;

we also know she didn't feel supported enough if she was v much convinced she was a freak or was surprised that K (it's canine from the hws) wanted to know how she was doing. we also know chris wants to recruit her into his military squad and has asked her more than once despite her wanting a normal life as a TEENAGER. we have no idea how long mia's been out of the picture other than "i haven't seen mom in ages" and that she's been with Rose until at least 7 and capcom doesn't mention for some reason, is it because she worked for the connections and don't trust her or because she basically has a bioweapon as a child so she must be taken away? we'll never know.

"But we do know she’s under constant surveillance and thought of as an asset, more than a human being. (That ‘Eveline’ quip was still out of line Mr Secret Agent.)" that man is a butt and that they (chris + hws because she finally joined) even joke about her being Eveline just tells you how they see her, a ticking time bomb that needs a sniper on her at all times and can't even visit her dad's grave in peace :/

"Miranda tho is just trash and got what she deserved" yes!

Hello again!

Ok but not telling her much if anything about Ethan is highly sus and brings up... so many questions about everyone involved in raising her. Like I could get maybe Mia starting to distrust her later in life if her developing powers reminded her of Evie (my thoughts on her character aside, that must have been pretty traumatic) but still, not even while she was a baby?

I mean I get that we only really get... 1.5 moments of real!Mia being around Rose in the whole game on screen and that's not really enough to make a full profile of her parenting but they made it seem like she loved both Rose and Ethan. And was clearly distraught by losing him. I honestly can't imagine her never mentioning him. Unless Rose was taken from her before or around the age of 3-4 she should have at least some memories of Mia mentioning him.

"i don't know the first thing about him" and later as she tries to piece things together she says "is Michael my dad?" and later "we're almost there, Michael" …which makes me doubt she even knew his name ;-;

I do think this (above) part was more her finally being clued in 'Michael' is her dad (went back and rewatched it and p sure the initial convo with 'Michael' and going through memories of baby!Rose and Ethan, as well as the last clip of her visiting his grave means she knew his name). I do think she only found out what he sounds like in the memories tho (again, Mia, I don't wanna make assumptions about your parenting or character but... not a single video? really?).

Edit: Speaking of it, just hit me that it's an empty grave bc his 'body' is probs dust back in Europe. That's kinda sad but I'm glad they at least made him a grave if nothing else tho.

we also know she didn't feel supported enough if she was v much convinced she was a freak or was surprised that K (it's canine from the hws) wanted to know how she was doing.

Right!? We get all these people (well like 2 but still) being mentioned as being in her life and theoretically caring for her but they're clearly not people she feels comfortable telling much about how her school life is going. As for Chris, as much as I want to believe he would be able to just see Rose as a kid and help her live a normal life... Chris is a military man, who's been in this business for... what, at least 20 years by then? His main goal in life is to keep people alive and safe. And Rose as a human weapon, on their side, would be a good asset. Especially if Chris, like apparently Mia and everyone else weren't around Rose that to see her more as a child than her powers.

(Reminds you of someone? Especially the close if distant 'family' to keep the person in check?)

Now as for Mia. Look, I get the hate of women who are deemed 'evil' in games, and I'm all against it. But if you asked me would I trust Mia to have the best intentions for my own child if it had superpowers, I would say no. I am hoping against hope she'd be different for her own child and would be able to see Rose as a person. I am honestly hoping she was just kept away by whatever org. is in charge of Rose and other people like her (there is no way there isn't at least one more) even if that's not what Rose deserves.

Mia is a scientist first and a wife/mother/etc. else for most of her life. And I'm not sure if I'm misremembering but I think Ethan found some suspicious documents about things Mia was doing at the start (or in a flashback?) of RE8. Now, that could have just been Miranda but we can say for sure. I really hope instances like that were just Miranda. Poor little Rose deserved at least one (alive) good parental figure in her life.

that man is a butt and that they (chris + hws because she finally joined) even joke about her being Eveline just tells you how they see her, a ticking time bomb that needs a sniper on her at all times and can't even visit her dad's grave in peace :/

I cannot tell you how little respect I have for anyone doing that to her. Do I understand it from their pov after Shadows of Rose that she is a very powerful individual that could cause mass damage if inclined to do so? Yes. Do I believe she would? No. Not unless possessed or finding out smthn like people keeping her contained wanted to use her for evil or killed her mom or smthn (hello new fear!). I also want to believe people closer to Chris wouldn't agree with Agent Man and whoever is funding both but you already saw what I wrote ab Chris. I do believe Chris is a good man. I just don't trust him to always make good choices.

Edit: Oh wow this got a bit long. Was nice to talk about it tho. Love getting asks like these.

[pinkcherrybombs]

✨How Much It would Cost Me to Babysit Each BTS Member ✨

So I saw this trend on Tik-Tok and thought it would be perfect as a headcanon! This was so much fun to make, feedbacks always appreciated! (also this is a re-upload bc I accidentally deleted the first one💀)

Masterlist

Jungkook

Price: $120/hour (plus an extra $30 every time he asks if I have games on my phone)

• Will want to try some extreme sporting indoor household parkour challenge he saw on YouTube “for fun”

• The only one on this list that I’m truly scared of

• Is gonna force me to watch him play video games, and then witness his rage quits which are like full mental breakdowns

• He’ll throw hands if I let him know that I’ve only watched one marvel movie

• Will also throw hands if I tell him that I think I have better thighs then Namjoon

• Honestly tho if I distract him with exercise activities or banana milk, we’ll be solid

• His toe socks are enough to make me quit babysitting all together

• 100% is gonna attempt to steal my food off my plate tho after eating his

• Is going to make every single thing into a competition, from who eats the fastest , to who can rinse their hands off after the quickest. But it’s a one sided competition that only he knows is going on, which makes this 10x more awkward

• Probs will fall asleep in some weird ass position like upside down on the couch. The type to snap his eyes open all serial killer like if you even whisper his name or check if he’s breathing

• Will randomly add me to a video game match after babysitting, then will call me if I decline and yell at me

• I 100% see him being the type to like randomly do a WWE wrestling choke hold- body slam combo and then laugh as if it was nothing while I’m wheezing on the floor

Taehyung

Price: $80/hour

• Will be the type to play hide and seek without telling me, so I’d just be freaking out thinking he’s lost for hours

• This man will bark at me. End of discussion

• Probs has some secret furry memorabilia that he keeps hidden under his bed, but will pull it out and ask if I can play it with him

• 100% will teach me how to take nice monochromatic photos, even going as far as to let me use his camera

• He’s gonna blast Jazz music through his speakers and critic me on my classical music knowledge

• Will make me cry, by chasing me around in the furry costume I mentioned before. And then will laugh when my ass trips and falls

• Is gonna teach me Korean swear words and tell me it’s formal ways to introduce myself

• Will try and teach me different vape tricks, but might silently judge if I start coughing from his 80-nic

• Falls asleep on the floor, no clue how he got there. Might growl if I try and put a blanket on him, so I’ll probably just chill on my phone and wait till he wakes up (at a safe distance)

• Is going to convince me to buy one of his paintings, thus taking all the money I earned back

Jimin

Price: $65/hour

• I’ll be confused if he’s trying to flirt with me or not for majority of the time

• This man's level of physical affection will drive me crazy, will literally wrap himself around my leg while I’m trying to walk

• I don’t know how and I don’t know why but we will throw hands at some point , probs because I call him my short king

• Will sass me to the point I’ll genuinely have to reconsider all my life decisions , and self esteem

• Honestly the one I’ll get along with most on the list tho, I feel like he’s knows all the tea about everyone

• 100% will physically tap his mouth shut after the first twenty minutes

• Competition to see who has a fatter ass( he’d obviously win)

• Will definitely break something expensive and brush it under the rug then blame me after for it

• The type to have a twelve step skincare routine and will literally gag if I tell him it’s not necessary

• I’ll need at least 2 Tylenol’s and a solid 36 hours of sleep to recover at babysitting him

Namjoon

Price: $20/hour (plus an extra $10 every time he breaks something)

• Damage deposit ahead of time for any property broken

• Also damage deposit for emotional distress after this man completely outsmarts me in literally every subject

• Majority of the time will be spent with either him explaining philosophical ideas he’s read in books or care instructions for his plants

• Will throw hands when I jokingly say I might accidentally kill his plants. Key word being jokingly

• We’re gonna spend a minimum 3 hours looking for his airpods

• Probs will get into a insightful debate about aliens and the meaning of life, is definitely not gonna make me feel stupid if I say something dumb

• He’ll definitely help me with my homework, I might even owe him back some money by the end for tutoring me

• Is gonna be the most responsible one out of the bunch to actually prepare himself for bed. Do a proper skincare routine before playing some light rain sounds and knocking out

•Can’t cook for shit tho, and will probably destroy the kitchen if I’m not looking

• We're starting a book club, he gets first pick!

Hoesok

Price:$15/hour

• Just Dance will be on for literally hours

• Will genuinely throw hands with me if we don’t get mega superstar ON EVERY SINGLE SONG

• His energy levels high key intimidate me, I know for a fact I won’t be able to keep up

• Probably will let me have aux and sing along to whatever music I play, maybe even teach me to the rap for daydream

• FASHION SHOWS, dude his closet is so incredible, will be the type to let me leave with a souvenir

• I just know he gives good pep talks, like whatever’s on my mind he’ll sit and talk about with me. Babysitting will turn into a makeshift therapy session

• If he’s in a good mood might let me paint his nails matching colours with mine

• Old school Disney movies for sure, especially with chocolate chip cookies. I’m envisioning Hercules, Mulan and the Princess and the Frog , he likes his soulful soundtracks

• The type to fall asleep on the couch during the Disney movie marathon, but will pout if I try to turn off the screen. Will for sure snuggle into his blanket like an adorable little bean

• Were scheduled for dance lessons next week, which means I’m basically means I’m giving the $15 I earned back to him

Yoongi

Price: $10/hour

• Easiest one to babysit off the list , no doubt about it

• The ten dollars is literally just to cover food and drinks, no actual payment is needed for my boy yoongles

• The type to sit me down and show me what track he’s been working on , maybe even ask for input if he’s stuck

• This man’s a literal angel, I know for a fact he will try his best not to laugh at my horrible attempts of rapping Daechwita

• Worst part probably would be if I disturbed him while he was napping or working, definitely would be a little worried when homeboy turns silent and gives me that death stare

• Will steal my phone to play piano tiles

• The longest rants about capitalism and government corruption, like full university style professor lectures

• Will be prepared to fight me if I even dare mention my plan to kidnap and marry Hobi

• Probably will fall asleep in some random spot in the housw, so I’ll bring him a blanket and some water so that at least he’s somewhat comfy in whatever weird position he passes out in

• Wouldn’t hesitate to babysit him again, or even just hang out whenever

Seokjin

Price: $25/hour

• I already know we’re gonna have a roast off over who’s the prettiest and my ego will get hurt multiple times by this man when I lose

• Probably will try to teach me the Super Tuna dance, and then judge me if I fucked up the choreo , will force us to do it on repeat until it’s satisfactory

• Definitely will offer to help cook and will make incredible food which is super sweet and helpful

• Will sass the shit out of me, especially if I do something he doesn’t like or tell him no

•Dad jokes from start to finish, every 5 minutes on a loop

• Will throw RJ at me full force if I say anything to piss him off, and then be more concerned if RJ is hurt then if I am

• 100% will be the type to pull the “let me do it” for every little thing even though I’m supposed to be the one babysitting him

• If I cook will say my ramens dry and likely fake throw up, dramatic ass

• At the end of the night I will definitely end up tucking him in, while he protests that he’s a grown man and doesn’t need to be tucked in. (But the whole time he’s stuttering with red ears because he secretly loves being taken care of)

• All in all a wonderful experience, he’s already organizing a fishing trip for the summer

[tartglias]

almost falling (headcanons)

characters: scaramouche and xiao

warnings: VIOLENCE. i’m 98% sure i kept it slight but just in case don’t read if you’re sensitive please!!

request: “Anyway, so I'm requesting for Xiao and Scaramouche (fitting, they're sadists HAHA) their s/o (separate) is about to be thrown off the balcony after someone pushed them and hit the railings and they're about to hang on edge of their life. The boys just came back after whatever mission or errand they finished and saw the blasphemous attempt of a masochist (because how DARE they attempt such on their s/o?) Trying to kill their love. They sprinted or used their powers to get to them and stopped calamity from unraveling (sorta) into their world. Yes add some Overprotectiveness and probs them hunting to rip that masochist's head if it's not too much. Headcanons pls--“

[a/n: i loved this headcanon and i knew what you write from the start (which i never do lol), but the mental gymnastics i had to do to find the vocabulary omg... i can’t say i’m a big fan of how this turned out because of that]

•••••

Scaramouche

Scaramouche had to do some business in Mondstadt, and since you wanted to visit your friend Amber, why not accompany him? It took a while to convince him since he usually doesn’t like the idea of mixing his personal and work lives, but he has a soft spot for you, believe it or not. Not that he would ever admit it.

Before he left you to do your things, he made you promise to meet him at the Good Hunter after an hour, on the dot. He had a busy schedule, but he still wanted to treat you lunch so you excitedly agreed by kissing his cheek and nodding.

After the meeting, he hoped to see you sitting down at one of the tables waiting for him, but instead, he saw no one. “I thought I made myself clear about punctuality” he thought.

“Did you see my partner? They’re about this height tall, *hair color* and probably accompanied by some friend called Amber?” he asked the girl that took orders at the Good Hunter, with a very obvious fake smile. “Not really, I’m sorry” she said, giving an apologetic look, which quickly turned into a frown. “Although, I thought Outrider Amber was out on a mission today. She even ordered some food supplies this morning, are you sure your partner was with her?”

He took a moment to think. He knows you were meeting with Amber because you kept rambling about how you haven’t seen her in forever and you wanted to surprise her. He can’t recall a time when you lied to him, either. Something about having an honest and open relationship with him, so you couldn’t have lied. And you wouldn’t leave the city without informing him, either.

So he decided to scratch out the possibility of having to search you through all Mondstadt. Then, he nodded towards the girl and left without saying a word.

Walking through the city, he paid attention to details. Something was off, he was sure of it.

After a while, he heard a yell. At first he wasn’t going to do anything about it, it’s not his problem plus he still has to find you. But when he realized the owner of the voice yelled “Leave me alone!”, he knew it was you. He ran towards the origin of the sound and found out that you were on top of the wall that protected Mondstadt.

He climbed as fast as he could and when he got to the top, his blood boiled at the sight.

A big tall man was holding your arms tightly, and then pushed you to the edge. Your back hit the railing and you let out a pained yell. You saw the man approach you with intentions of pushing you again, but before you could lift your arms to protect yourself, you heard thunder.

“You heard them, leave them alone. Now” you heard Scaramouche say. The atmosphere became dark and tense very quick, making a shiver go down your spine.

The man let out a short laugh. “You can’t intimidate me so easily. They were mine first, I’m just reclaiming my property”

Oh boy

“I don’t think you heard me, stupid. Leave them alone, now. Or I’ll make sure you suffer the most painful and slow tortures ever imagined. I have a whole book I want to test out anyways, you know.” Scaramouched threatened, and when you saw the look on his face, you gasped. You never saw him like that

He had a creepy smile, no, it was the smile of a sadist, actually. Small thunders came out of his fingers, and by each second, they grew stronger. You noticed that the man started shaking, now reconsidering everything. Scaramouche tilted his head a bit and let out a laugh. “You don’t want to play anymore?”

The man quickly left, or more like ran for his life without sparing you a second glance. You dropped down to the floor and noticed the sky get clearer, and so did the sound of thunder. You were still teary-eyed and overwhelmed from the situation with the man, but you lifted up your head to see a calmer Scaramouche.

You didn’t notice before, but his purple eyes were sparkling with pink thunder, and once he kneeled down in front of you, they turned back to their original color.

He wrapped his arms around you, keeping you close and away from the edge. “Are you alright, my beloved?” he asked you, a hint of concern filling his face. “Now I am. Scaramouche... I never saw you like that” you said, holding his hands that previously let out sparks and thunder.

You heard him sigh. “I lost control. Your scream and then seeing you almost falling... it made me snap. I can’t lose you.”

You kissed him, hoping that this way he can understand that you’re not scared of him and also reassuring him you’re not going anywhere either.

“You scared him for life” you said once you pulled away, laughing slightly. “I’ll scare him for eternity because he won’t be alive after I catch him”

Xiao

He told you numerous times to call his name if you ever found yourself in trouble. Even if it’s just a whisper, a thought even, you just have to say “Xiao” and he would drop whatever he was doing to come to rescue you.

In full honestly, you thought you could handle things on your own. You didn’t need him to come to rescue you, unless a very real danger was knocking on your door. Which unfortunately, leads to this situation.

Moments earlier, you were at the top floor of the inn, waiting for Xiao to come back. Everything was normal, until you noticed two suspicious looking men approach you. At first, you didn’t think much of it since adventurers often ask you for certain locations or roads. But this thought quickly changed when one of them came from behind, a little too close for your liking, before covering your mouth with his hand.

“A little birdie told us you’re close to an adeptus” one of the two men said, standing in front of you with a smug smile. “We need a favor”

It happened very quick, you were fighting for your life as you screamed and tried to kick the man holding you down. You almost succeeded, if it wasn’t for the other man in front of you. He held your arms tightly and pushed you towards the edge, you lost your balance and tripped over it, but quickly managed to grab onto the railing.

“Go on. Call the adeptus for help, we’ll love to have a small chat with-“ the man started saying, but got cut off by a strong wind that made him trip over. It was Xiao.

His eyes immediately landed on you, you were trying so hard to lift yourself up but you were slowly slipping. You weren’t going to last much longer and rage filled both his body and mind almost instantly.

How dare they lay a finger on you to get to him? “Worthless. Pathetic. Stupid.” he muttered each time he hit the men, until knocking them out. His eyes went back to you, and he immediately sprinted towards the railing.

But he was late

Your hands that desperately tried to grip the railing and lift yourself up were red and they hurt, and just when he was about to extend his hand for you to take, you slipped and fell.

You thought it was over, truly. You yelled out Xiao’s name as you tried to get hold of anything that could possibly prevent you from hitting the ground, but you were far away and the floor was coming closer and closer. You closed your eyes, ready to face your end.

But that end didn’t come, and you found yourself wrapped in Xiao’s arms while strong winds surrounded you, keeping you from hitting the ground abruptly. Once his feet touched the floor, you heard a faint sigh of relief from him.

Now on the ground, you dropped to the floor while you sobbed in Xiao’s arms, suddenly very aware of how close you came to meeting death. He kept you close to his body, as if you’re gonna slip away from him again. He faced many monsters and wrath in his life, but he never felt as scared as he did at the moment.

“I’m sorry” Xiao muttered out once your crying calmed down. Drying your tears with the sleeve of your shirt, you looked at him questioningly. “You almost died because they were after me”

This made you cry more

He was kind of confused? Why were you crying again?

“Xiao you don’t have to apologize because its not your fault at all and you also saved me! I should apologize for not being careful and tripping!” you sobbed again. “But it’s not your fault either...” he whispered as he patted your head, not sure how to calm you down.

Xiao doesn’t kill humans, but nothing is going to stop him from making hilichurls, mages, and other monsters appear in the way of these two men. He’s going to make them pay (indirectly)

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

another helping of living w/ bakugou thoughts:

pls i am so sorry, i feel like i bombard y’all with these constantly, but u don’t understand, he literally lives in my brain full time

- if you’re rolling your sleeves up, to wash your hands before dinner, he’ll whack your hands away and do it himself. very much “you’re takin’ too long, idiot. i wanna eat already. let me do it.”,, don’t be fooled tho, you could do it in 2.5 seconds and he’d still open his mouth. bc it has absolutely nothing to do with u and everything to do with him wanting to be close to you

-ik he watches the mha equivalent of the history channel. i just know it. dude is a grandpa at heart, n im so confident he would 100% sit down and watch a 3 hr docu on like, old weaponry or some nerdy shit

-bakugou is annoyingly arrogant, but only about things that don’t matter. like, he’ll fully sit in front of you and tell you he’s stronger/faster/smarter in passing conversation,, but when he does actually impressive shit??? the man clams up. absolutely clams up the second you praise him, trying to brush off whatever ridiculous feat he just pulled to protect u with a “It’s not that big a deal, shut up about it already, dumbass.” 

- pls mans is an absolute simp. u ask him to do something and he’s on his feet in a second. ofc he’s complaining but he’s also then following that up by doing things you didn’t even ask him to do. fan behavior honestly.

-when you’ve had a bad day, he’ll make u food and throw blankets in the dryer for u. don’t expect much verbal comforting from him, bc obviously, but he’s pretty good with actions. you always feel a little warmer after he’s wrapped you in a blanket n fed you something ungodly spicy

- i have absolutely no basis for this but ik he secretly watches kids movies. like, if it’s animated then he’s there. ofc no one is allowed to find out about this ‘embarrassing’ behavior tho, except maybe you. maybe. if you accidentally happen to see it bc he’d never tell u himself.

- he’s a beast to wake up in the morning, but he’s a lot more easy to convince if u pet his hair. or rub his back/shoulders. maybe even kiss his neck. look, u cannot tell me that he doesn’t want to be absolutely coddled in the morning- especially when he can get away with it so easily. 

-bakugou always pulls ur legs into his lap if u sit down next to him. pls he’s so weird, he’ll just like, tap his fingers on ur calves absentmindedly while he’s watching tv

-he probably created a playlist of songs ur ‘allowed’ to play around him. meaning, it’s only the songs on ur phone that he likes 🙄

-bakugou always takes his work phone calls outside. like if his phone rings he’ll just stand up n walk tf out the door to take it. even if it’s cold. u ask him once about it n he just “Work stays at work. This is my fuckin’ home. Now shut up about it already.”

-you’ve never once seen this man wearing socks around the house. don’t ask me, i cannot explain this whatsoever, but i just kno this man walks around constantly barefoot 🤢🤮 unfortunately.

-he’s like, the most functional person ever in almost every aspect, but the stuff katsuki is bad at?? pls he is hopelessly bad. like, lets say art stuff. omg he just doesnt have the patience for it, okay, so say goodbye to any dreams of cute lil couple’s crafts. like, he’ll sit there while u do yours, but his will look like utter shit

- during the week, katsuki is either at work, training, or at home. pls, he works so hard during the day that i highly doubt he’s anything but an absolute homebody during the work week.

- bakugou gets pissy if u re-arrange any of the furniture on a whim. pls he likes comfort and familiarity n if he stubs his toe on the stupid coffee table one more fucking time, he’s going to scream

-its a rare occurance,, especially bc of the crazy hours he works,, but bakugou rlly likes making dinner for u to come home to. he just likes to feel like he’s taking care of u tbh

-he still goes to bed at like 8:30. or thats what u think, but rlly he just goes to sit in your room and have some time to himself for a bit. as much as he loves u, he prob still needs some alone time to recharge

-bakugou takes meticulous care of any plants u have in the house. like he’ll water them on a strict-ass schedule, n preen them when necessary. pls the way he’ll curse them out if they even dare to wilt under his care?? very much “What the hell, you bitch? ‘m doin’ everything fuckin’ perfect! Grow already!”

-katsuki is such a little bitch when he’s sick. he’ll be running like a 103 temp, brain literally melting, and still trying to get up and work out. the only way u can get him to chill the hell out is if u take a nap with him. ofc that means u always get sick too,, but hey- lil sacrifices right??

-he never lets you get the door. like, if there’s a knock n neither of u knows who it could be,, pls he’s on his feet so fast. waving u away n looking thru the keyhole w/ sm suspicion

-he has his spot on the couch, n u will not find him sitting anywhere else. like, that’s his spot. u better pray for anybody who mistakenly takes it

-bakugou doesn’t like dirt or grime, so he won’t allow you or himself, to sit on your bed with clothes that have been outside. like, even if you’re just sitting on top of the covers, he’s gonna throw a fit and demand you change your clothes first bc “No way in hell am I gonna let your dumbass dirty up my bed.”

-katsuki rlly likes when it storms outside. he’ll go sit in front of the window and watch the rain, sipping on a warm drink while he waits for more thunder. 

-living with bakugou is incredibly frustrating, bc he’ll just show up with new skills all of the goddamn time. like you’ll be like, “hmm i’d love to remodel the bathroom someday”,, and the very next weekend bakugou is meticulously re-tiling the bathroom floor by hand, probably also painting the walls in a new color, maybe even installing a new sink just to spruce it up. n then he’ll just present the entirely new, upgraded room with such weird nonchalance that it pisses u off. pls and if you watch him while he does these little projects, with all the weird precision and skill he suddenly gains?? pls you’re sure he must be possessed by the ghost of a craftsman

- when he hangs out with the bakusquad, he’ll drag you along every time. he expects you to sit with him the entire time and act as a social buffer?? basically, someone’ll ask him a question, one he deems stupid and therefore not worth answering, and bakugou will just look at you expectantly. he’ll just stare at you blankly, hardly even blinking until you pick up the slack and answer for him. you call him out on this many times, but it doesn’t matter. it doesn’t change anything. he does this over and over and over again

-bakugou gets really unsettled when you guys fight. like, he can’t sleep and he’s snapping at everybody, and is somehow more aggressive than usual. he always wants to just make up already, but the pride in the way won’t allow it

-he’s a weird stickler about intended furniture functionality?? like, the table is for eating, and the couch is for watching tv, and then only way you’re gonna get him to mix the two is if you ask him rlly rlly nicely

-finally- i have no basis for this one, but ik it in my heart: bakugou has a very intense fight with your thermostat nearly every single day. he swears up and down that it never ‘behaves’ for him, but every time you check it, it’s working perfectly fine

--/-- 

ahahhaa sorry y’all for the super random spam today,, but here were are back to our regularly scheduled bakugou programming,,,, bc idk if it’s obvious ur honor, but i love him

[flashyfucker]

I sent this ask by mistake to @heatabovejakey only to find out J agrees with me: there's not dbf!jamie enough!

Girl, I read somewhere here that you were afraid we're getting tired of dbf!jamie?! Let me tell you something...it's the complete opposite! I, for one, cannot get enough of this concept! I'd read about them all day, and I spend a shameful part of the aforementioned day thinking about different scenarios for them: how you guys act around everyone when the relationship is a known thing? Pda away or not that much? Do they get in a huge fight? Is there any tension between them because of the age difference(like he wants something and she thinks is too soon, like marriage)? Do they talk kids? Do they have any scares? How is your relationship with his family?

oooo okay first of all! let me direct you to a little drama/tension content HERE, and huge fight content HERE! (might rb them too xx) PDA and his family talk under the cut because this is long! MORE DBF!JAMIE | gimme ur thoughts/questions! x

TALKIN KIDS: domestic bliss is the crux of this au baby! i feel like it takes approximately one time seeing that man entertain the neighbourhood kids at the block party for you to be like "aight i'm making him a father.". he hits it raw from the jump, and you're on birth control, you've spoken about that and are responsible, but a few months into seeing each other, maybe your period is like, a week late. and there's the softest moment where you go to him, and you're like "it's definitely not...... but it might be... its not but we should take a test. like, it's not, but we should check in case it is... which it's not."

and you laze with his head in your lap on the couch while waiting the three minutes. and his stomach twists a little, and you're shaking despite the brave face, so he fishes for your phone on the couch and hands it to you, asks "where's the note? with the baby names? everyone has one."

and it feels ridiculous, like you're dancing in a time of crisis or something, but you entertain it, if for nothing but to stop your hands trembling. and jamie tacking heart emojis beside names he likes and lightly bullying you for the others somehow takes half the turmoil out of the situation.

"we're not naming our kid that, now, if it's positive. but if it's negative, you've got a few years to convince me."     (the test is negative. but you definitely convince him to use that one name years down the line.)

HOW YOU ACT IN PUBLIC: the public relationship's not necessarily physical. it's sharing drinks and tasting from one another's plate, saving seats beside you, for him, and vice versa. it's the closeness of your shoulder pressed to his arm, even when you're having conversations with other people. "how're you doing? still feeling it?" check ins throughout the night when you've both been socialising with others. not always holding hands but always obviously together when you're in the room together, a package deal from the jump. (it's not always physical, though sometimes, jamie gets touchy. and he's a gentleman... obviously.. but you're his sweetheart. so, sometimes his arms draped around your body from behind with his chin atop your head, no matter who's watching, is necessary. however ur dad disagrees and swats you both with rolled up newspaper)

YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH HIS FAMILY: kinda feel like they’d be a little confused at first. not that they don’t like you— they’d live in toronto while he in seattle, so they mostly know you from facetime. you’d bond with the younger of his sisters quickly over instagram and shooting tiktoks back and forth, but it’s tough for his older siblings and parents to vibe you out. at first they prob hear college girl and assume their kid is having an early midlife crisis lmao. there’s a lot of ending calls with a shared a ‘that was awkward’ look between you and jamie, and it kills him a little that they don’t take your relationship seriously (and that it clearly upsets you a little, even if you try not to show it. it’s always big hugs and gentle words between the two of you after those calls.) 

but also, i doubt it’s more than a few months of you just being around jamie before his family warms up to you. i imagine when he cuts his hand, he doesn’t even want to tell his mom, but you’d duck out of the room while jamie’s sleeping to call her yourself, knowing your mom would want to know, even just about a couple stitches. and that’d be a turning point for his parents, where they kinda finally understand you genuinely care for him (and you’re definitely invited to christmas, like, on the spot. once those little bridges are crossed you’re part of the family<3)

[mrskurono]

My brain is like short circuiting at the thought of a threesome with Kuroo & Bokuto w/ a femdom reader. Like Kuroo prob has a hair pulling kink when your grind your clit against his mouth as you sit on his face, playing with the remote of vibrating cock ring that’s on him w/ your free hand. At the same time you’re edging Bokuto while you suck his cock, telling him that he can only cum when he’s ordered to.

Alright honestly...it’s been a hot minute since I wrote anything Haikyuu!! and these two....oh these two are the gayest fucking thing of that entire show. Sorry anon I may or may not have tweaked a few things bc the HQ men giving rimjobs have really been on my mind lately ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Kuroo x Bokuto x fem!reader

tags: dom!reader, toy usage (hitachi wand), face sitting (male to male), rimjob, big power bottom Bokuto vibes, overstimmed Kuroo, light bondage, nipple play, pet names, threesome (mmf), a lot of male on male action, dirty talk, idk man pwp

character(s): Kuroo Tetsuro (hq) Bokuto Kotaro (hq)

nsfw undercut ⇾ ⇾ ⇾

“Bo’s tongue feels that good huh? Your gonna cum just from his tongue on your ass already mister big shot?”

Tetsuro shook his head vigorously. Almost like he was convincing himself as much as he was you. 

With the sharp rise of his chest Bo could be heard under both of you with his moans. Untouched completely. Cock standing at attention from the second Tetsuro knelt over his face. And yet Bo was the one moaning like a whore as he wiggled his tongue without remorse against Tetsuro’s ass.

“Sounds like the big bad ace likes what he’s doing....” Your words trail down like your touch to the vibrating wand that had been left on full speed and snug right under the man’s balls. Tetsuro pulled against his cuffs to no avail. They were pink and fuzzy but god did they do their job, “Now why aren’t you doing your job and giving me all your cum baby?”

Taking the vibrating head of the wand from under his cock. You lean forward on Bo’s stomach so you have a better grip on Tetsuro’s cock as you grip him firmly with one hand and begin moving the wand up and down the top of his cock slowly. Far worse than just being left to his balls. Tetsuro didn’t mean to jerk his hips up. Met quickly with Bo’s broad hands gripping his hips and holding him in place to not interrupt his meal. Leaving his partner to groan like a pathetic mess.

“I- I wanna cum-” The black haired man finally managed some semblance of thought, “ ‘s badly please-”

“Tetsuro knows his manners so well~” Your teasing coo comes with you pulling yourself up to him even closer. Not to kiss him. No instead your lips graze over his nipple and you hear the breath catch in Tetsuro’s chest once more, “I’m not the one doing the hard work....I think you should be telling that too Bo.”

The begging suddenly came easier than the manners.

“Bo please- God please let me cum-” Tetsuro looked at you directly as his words fell from his mouth, almost like he wanted your praise for his begging, “Please let me cum on your mouth- I’ll do anything- I need to cum I need-”

“You hear that Bo?” You lean forward and grin as your tongue swirls slowly around Tetsuro’s nipple and your hand firmly holds the vibrating wand against the head of his now purple aching cock, “Tetsuro was a good boy. Good boys can cum now if they want.”

Another muffled moan from Bo. His knuckles nearly white with how hard he was holding onto Tetsuro’s thighs at this point. You couldn’t see what the owl man was doing but having been familiar with his tongue you were certain he’d give Tetsuro exactly what he wanted.

Tongue working more than just a weak orgasm out of him. When Bo pressed his face up into Tetsuro and you drew the wand down his cock it was too much. Tetsuro’s weak attempt to keep quiet for nothing when a shuddering orgasm ran through his body. 

The way he trembled on Bo’s face. Thighs quaking from his own orgasm and the onslaught of the tongue fucking him and vibrations on his cock head. Thick milky cum streaked its way across Bo’s chest. Some landing on your thighs. But most of it painting the broad volleyballer’s chest as Tetsuro’s cock bounced with each spurt of cum leaving his trembling body.

You pulled the wand away. But Bo didn’t stop his work. Tetsuro pleading for Bo to give him a break even as his cock couldn’t spare even a drop more cum. Giggling you swipe up some of the cum and smear it on Tetsuro’s cock while grinning up at him.

“You know how he gets...” Your words like cruel music to his ears as your hand slowly begin stroking him off with his cum as the lube, “Bo gets this excited...only way to get him to stop.” 

Leaning a bit to the side Tetsuro’s eyes go directly to the other man’s cock. For the third time now his breath hitches in his throat. He knew why Bo was so good with his tongue.....Because it was the only way to take all of him without crying over his size. Cock still hard and insides aching. Tetsuro licked his lips knowing at some point he’d be on his back getting fucked with you on his face. And nothing sounded better.

[fullconstellationalt]

i wish that you had thought this through

drabble loosely inspired by the song “traitor” by olivia rodrigo

God I wish that you had thought this through Before I went and fell in-love with you

content: bucky x f!reader, angst, not the healthiest of situations lol, happy ending if you use a microscope

word count: 1,396 (shhh, let me call it drabble like it was supposed to be)

this is possibly part one of my sour (the album by olivia rodrigo)-inspired drabbles? prob mostly gonna be angst ;-;

Author masterlist

The sound of hard, familiar footsteps brought you out of your daze on the couch, one of the few mildly successful attempts at sleep you’d had the past few days. It was only a moment before you were met with silence, the stranger in the hallway having passed and nothing but the low hum of the AC to keep you company.

It was as though a tornado had swept through your apartment.

Pillows and tissues littered the living room floor; used glasses and mugs were scattered across the kitchen countertop and plates piled high in the sink. The only area no longer in disarray was your bedroom; bed still made, clothes untouched and hanging neatly in your closet.

It was there that Bucky’s house keys sat atop the dresser, left behind by the man with no plan to return. He hadn’t even taken all of his things, leaving traces of him behind that were sure to haunt you, sure to prolong the nightmare you couldn’t escape.

You couldn’t bring yourself to sleep in the bed you’d once shared with him. Not when his scent still lingered in the cotton sheets. Not when you still had his photo on your nightstand, a shot of you both asleep and leaning on each other in a stakeout van.

It’d been days and you still couldn’t work up the courage to walk into your bedroom. Doing so would only affirm the bad dream that’d been made your reality.

“You deserve better, doll.”

The words rang through your head, a siren blaring with every breath you took.

He’d betrayed you; hurt you. Something he’d promised never to do. Something you’d never thought him to be capable of.

Every second spent wondering where you’d gone wrong only affirmed the reality of him leaving.

“You shouldn’t have to be with someone like me.”

“Well James,” you hiccuped, face messy with tears. “I wish that you had thought this through.”

Your phone was tucked beneath couch cushions, hidden away so you didn’t have to look at the empty black screen anymore, nothing more than your reflection looking back at you. Not that you recognized the face you saw; one of hollow eyes and dark circles, nose rubbed raw by boxes’ worth of tissues. The face of someone who’d lost the home once found in his heart, rejected with no explanation or warning.

Each time someone passed the door to your apartment in the hallway of the complex served as a reminder of him leaving. Of you standing, sobs racking your body as he walked out without so much as looking back. Of the door closing one last time. Every footstep you heard brought you hope; a hope only crushed by the silence that followed.

Not all of the footsteps were foreign to you; not that you knew that. By now, you’d convinced yourself that when you heard the slow, heavy rhythm of steps that once gave you butterflies, you were only hearing things. That you’d just fallen that low, were that hopeless.

But Bucky was hopeless too. A fact he’d tried time and time again to remedy with visits to the apartment, only to stand outside the door that was once his own and find his hands too heavy to knock.

He’d shuffle, staring at the ground, trying to work up the courage to just do it — to apologize, to explain his fear, his irrationality, to beg you for a forgiveness he knew he didn’t deserve.

But five minutes would become thirty and he’d decide it was a lost cause; that he’d already broken the thing he cherished most. And so the steps would echo again as he left, jostling you again with the memory of him leaving the apartment for what you’d known to be the last time.

On the other side of the door you rose to your feet, eyeing the dirty dishes before deciding to eat the cereal you craved straight from the bag. Besides, you rationalized, it’s not like you had to share anymore.

Silence wrapped around you like a blanket, tighter and tighter with each passing moment that you were alone. It’d become unbearable, the air just waiting to be permeated by the deep baritone of Bucky’s greeting. By the laugh that tugged at your chest, that made your lowest of lows into soaring highs. By the tune he’d hum while standing at the stove, spoon scraping the pan as he made you both breakfast for dinner — a specialty that’d become a tradition on slow weekends.

It was in the moments of silence that you could hear it — a faint, distant humming of the song you knew by heart. The song you’d played time and time again within those very four walls, on nights playing board games with friends, or when you came home from dinner and swayed in each other’s arms, wine-drunk and barefoot, each step more and more out of time.

You swore you could hear it now. In the days since the split, you never heard it in a voice other than Bucky’s; what was once your shared song was now just his, a reminder of love lost, a soundtrack to a part of your past you’d never get back. What once brought butterflies to your core and pink to your cheeks was now replaced by a heavy pit in your stomach. A weight that felt impossible to lift, impossible to lose.

All you could do was wait it out. You curled up on the sofa, cereal long gone, and pressed yourself as far into the cushions as you could.

A deep voice — Bucky’s voice — stumbled through the tune, a distant echo as though he’d taken the song with him when he left. Tears flooded your eyes as your mind brought you back to the moments you’d shared, exploiting your hurt and creating a montage for your eyes only.

Each time you thought of the song you wondered if he was hearing it to; if he was ever going to come back to your front door, apology on his lips and an explanation for his sudden departure.

And he did hear it. He heard it in the passing moments in-between the meaningless distractions he’d perused, in the moments of calm before a whirlwind of emotions washed over him. There were few things he regretted more than leaving; he’d called a dozen times the past two days, wishing and praying that you’d pick up, only for the ringer to be on silent, screen alerts muffled by the couch cushions.

He hadn’t had a good reason to leave. In the moment it had felt like a good one — a great one, even. As he worked further and further through his list of amends; had countless sessions with Dr. Raynor to talk about his experiences; the harm he was capable of felt all the more clear to him.

It wasn’t that you hadn’t talked about it before. You’d had dozens of late-night talks, post-nightmare moments of comfort, gone through couples therapy, even. You never questioned the fact that the man you loved wasn’t the Winter Soldier; that he wasn’t capable of hurting you.

And the only way he’d ever proven you wrong was by leaving.

The regret he felt now was overwhelming, eating him alive as his friends insisted he fix things, slapping his arm for the irrational, emotion-led decision he’d made. “You fucked up,” Sam had warned. “You’ll be lucky if she even opens the door.” Bucky knew that — that he wasn’t guaranteed your forgiveness or even your time.

But he couldn’t live with himself if he didn’t try.

You meant more to one another than you each knew. You’d shown him love in ways he didn’t know were possible, in ways he didn’t deem himself deserving of. He’d given you love and patience and time, learning more about you in your time together than you knew about yourself. Nobody had made you feel more complete, more loved, more safe.

And to lose that out of the blue felt like losing everything.

Heavy footsteps once again brought you out of your self-inflicted pit of despair, mind taunting you with the idea that it could be him. That he could be on the other side of the door, ready with open arms.

And for the first time in days, two heavy knocks followed.

A/N: thank you to anyone who actually read this and has supported me! i’m sorry for any potential pain, i promise i write and am currently working on more than angst :]

[choptop-sawyer]

Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.