#it's literally disgusting how she can think some of the things she does

[lldolphin]

(REALISTIC) CREEPYPASTA HEADCANNONS ☆

feat. jeff the killer, nina the killer, jane the killer, clockwork, toby, laughing jack, eyeless jack.

JTK

i feel like he smells like cigarettes and blood. like he REEKS of blood, but its not like a disgusting stinky ass smell. i think the pastas often shower in victims homes.

he doesn't actually hate his brother. he's actually happy that he survived. its just, hes an asshole and doesn't know how to resolve confict, so he doesn't talk to liu.

probably makes fun of toby alot. for everything.

i dont actually think they all live in a manor. realistically, they dont know each other. jeff specifically, lives in an old warehouse. (im a hypocrite. i still write them living in a manor despite my own headcannon 😜)

he has like, really long hair. its long, black, heat damaged at the ends and, middle parted. he doesn't have a cute uwu emo boy haircut. he probably DID before he snapped, but thats long gone.

he pierced himself on his nose, ears, bridge, eyebrow, and lip. his ears got infected.

JANE

RAGING lesbian

she doesn't even talk to jeff. she hates him, yeah, but she doesn't actively try and reach out and/or kill him. she has trauma from him. she doesnt seek out the main cause of her ptsd.

she probably has a smoker voice. like she sounds like a chain smoker.

she definitely WAS goth before, but she doesn't really dress it now. it would be hard to be on the run, killing, and constantly getting into combat dressed in full goth attire.

not to mention, it would make her so noticeable to police and detectives.

i imagine her wearing the leggings with the rips down the legs, and a tank top with maybe some band on it.

definitely a little chubby.

shes definitely poc. you cannot tell me otherwise.

NINA

she didn't cut up her face. she puts on makeup. lets be real.

she still keeps her pretty scene hair. its black with a few pink raccoon tails.

i dont think she actually ever killed anyone.

her parents put her in a psych ward after going through her computer.

id say, realistically, she got super interested in jeffs case. after a while, she became obsessed with him.

her parents quickly ended that whole thing, sending her to the ward.

she escaped and literally never went back home.

like, she has missing posters out there.

she spends her whole time trying to find jeff.

shes never actually met him.

CLOCKWORK

shes RIPPED.

i like to think shes also lesbian, and jane and her definitely have a situationship

green eyes

okay. there is no POSSIBLE way a human can put a clock inside of their eyeball. she just went crazy and probably stabbed her eye out or some shit.

look, i KNOW that the clock is her whole gimmick, but come on yall.

tank top, blue hoodie and jeans.

very tumblr 2014 core outfits.

she probably did wrestling in school

her hair is like almost ginger, but still brunette.

TOBY

his hair is really fluffy.

he has brown eyes.

his mouth gash never healed because he never got it taken care of.

i feel like his breath smells REALLY good. mans is so nervous abt his scent, hes scared he'll smell like jeff.

always has a tic tac in his mouth.

he has scars on his tongue, he used to bite down on it when he would tic.

black hoodie and blue jeans. black converse. simple outfits yall.

he made himself watch shocking content in his early years to TRY and feel something. It didn't work, but it helped him snap and become insane.

he doesnt work for slenderman, but he heard about it and his schizophrenia makes him hallucinate him. So, he THINKS he works for him, but he doesn't.

hes not annoying uwu "hey masky" boy. he's quiet and afraid of fucking up any attempt at social interactions or relationships. when he DOES get comfortable with people he knows, ex; masky, hoodie, etc..hes LOUD and really vulgar about his jokes.

SEND ME REQUESTS!!

[koilaniazul]

why not me? (pt 2)

pairing- matt sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: matt confronts y/n and it turns into a confession. but of course, these things don’t always have a happy ending.

warnings: swearing, angst, matt is a meanie once again

go check out part one!

after seeing matt’s date, you felt empty. the boy you had loved for years had just slipped from your fingers.

he didn’t even text. or call. hell, he could’ve sent a damn pigeon and you would’ve jumped for joy.

but no, he just ghosted you. that wasn’t like him.

the entire time you were in your house you stalked eiliana. her instagram, her tiktok, her threads account, you had even found her moms facebook account. you found out she has an onlyfans.

*she’s not good for matt.* you thought to yourself

you hadn’t got up from your bed in DAYS. and the dishes + smell in your room was a dead giveaway.

on the 5th day you unltimately decided it was time for self care.

you got up from your bed and felt disgusting. gathering all the takeout boxes and bowls with living organisms inside them, you stuffed them in the dishwasher as well as taking out the trash.

pulling off your dirty and crumb filled sheets and putting them in the washer, disinfectant over EVERY surface in your house.

hopping into the hot shower and letting out a soft moan feeling the anxiety and overwhelming stress wash away.

standing in your towel you looked at your phone, an instagram notif popped up.

a message. from matt.

he wanted..to talk? he wanted to talk. matt wanted to talk. and he was coming over in 10 minutes.

reality suddenly hit ur brain as you hopped out of the bathroom and quickly got dressed into the most decent fit you could find.

ur hair was still wet and you barely had time to put makeup on.

matt was coming over and you looked like a wet abandoned dog.

putting on perfume you heard your doorbell ring.

oh shit.

halfway sprinting to the door you opened it as your heart stopped.

there stood matt who you hadn’t seen in weeks.

and he looked so fucking hot. even his outfit looked so fine.

you checked him out without shame and he noticed.

clearing his throat, the boy looked her in the eyes. “can..i come in?” he asked a bit unsure.

stepping out of your trance, you looked up at matt with doe eyes. “yeah..yeah sure”

matt carefully stepped inside and took his shoes off as you walked into your living room.

sitting on the couch you patted the spot next to you for him to sit down.

he sat down and avoided eye contact.

deciding to break the quietness, you spoke.

“so, why are you here? missed me that much?” you asked slightly laughing.

he didn’t return the laughter. matt side eyed you as he spoke, “i think you know why im here y/n”.

your smile faded. “i don’t know..”’. as much as you hated lying, you didn’t want to talk about what happened.

matt’s jaw clenched in anger. “ what do you mean?! you showed up at my date with my girlfriend!”.

girlfriend? there’s no way he was dating her already.

you stood up. “are you serious matt? you’ve only known her for like a week!”.

matt’s eyes widened as he stood up as well. “you can’t be talking right now. why are you so interested about how long i’ve known eiliana?! if you need to know we’d been talking for like months before!”

you scoffed. but as you tried to speak again he cut you off. “matt- no y/n shut the fuck up! you’re crazy. eiliana literally complained to me that she was scared of you because you kept stalking her profiles every.single.day.”

your mouth went dry. you forgot to hide your own profile.

“you’re supposed to be my best friend! not some psycho who’s literally joe goldburg.” matt says obviously stressing

“well i cant just be your friend matt!” you yelled. you didn’t think before you spoke. *shut up y/n* you thought to yourself

matt looked even more confused than he was before. “why not?”

“because i fucking love you!” you cried out.

dead silence.

you panted. suddenly out of breath.

you looked up at matt. his eyes darkened.

he.was.pissed.

“matt-“ you said trying to touch his arm

“don’t-don’t touch me!” he said taking two steps back from you

you jerked your hand back scared from his reaction.

“matt please listen to me!” you yelled, tears started to pool your eyes.

he looked up and scoffed. “no you don’t get to cry y/n. you don’t get to fucking cry after you stalked my girlfriend and showed up at our date.”

“i- i didnt even mean to!” you stuttered. “i only left my house because you stood me up!”

matt rolled his eyes. “so what? i went on a date with a girl.”

“why are you being such a dick right now?! this isn’t the matt i know!”

“oh yeah because you know me so well. matt said with a hint of sarcasm. “you don’t know me at all!”

you started to sob now. “matt-matt please!”

he walked to your front door. “i can’t be here.”

you panicked and sprinted to the front door, blocking him from leaving.

“let’s talk! please.” you begged desperately.

he finished putting his shoes on. “out of my way.”

your breath hitched. “matt.”

he sighed. “we can’t do this y/n. this isn’t healthy.”

confusion reached your face. “what are you talking about..?”

“we can’t be friends anymore.”

your heart dropped. “h-huh?”

he rubbed his temples “that’s why i came over here anyway. eilana and i had talked about it before i drove over. she suggested it and i think it’s a good idea.”

tears rolled down your face. “you’re one of my best friends i cant lose you!”

“ my girlfriend is terrified of you. please move out of the way y/n”

you gave up.

moving out of the doorway, matt opened the door and stood in the door frame.

“you know, i wanted to introduce her to you. i thought you two would be good friends. guess not. see you around”

he shut the door as you heard his footsteps walk away.

you tried to cry but you couldn’t.

you were so tired.

only one thought circled your head.

why not me?

❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥❥

𝗄𝗈𝗂'𝗌 𝗒𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗀 ↷

BYEE WHY DOES THIS SUCK ASS

anyway.. i did not mean to make matt this mean. welp!

ALSO TELL ME WHY I SPELT EILANA THREE DIFFERENT WAYS

please tell me if you find any mistakes!

ok bai love ya ꨄ

⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡⇡

[burnyourtrains]

Watching a show with my mom and realizing just how subtly racist my parents are makes my skin crawl

[hecksupremechips]

God every day I think about Akane’s breakdown in door 3 because there really is no correct way to interpret that and every possibility makes me crazy. Like she sees this fucked up corpse whom Junpei (and the player, depending on how they play) believes is their friend Snake, but she knows that it’s Guy X. It’s a man she very intentionally put in the game for this very purpose, so that he could die horrifically and be displayed for everyone to see. And she has a full mental breakdown over being trapped in this room with the corpse, being trapped by Junpei, to the point where she rips out her hair and starts bleeding from how much she bangs on the door screaming to get out. And fuck, there’s so many possibilities like

Akane could be feeling genuine terror over the sight of the body, and with that remorse. She made this happen, she wanted this to happen, and now she’s forced to quite literally watch the damage she’s caused unfold. She can detach herself from his murder easily in other timelines where she doesn’t have to look at it, and she can sleep easy knowing that her hands are technically clean because she didn’t do the literal killing. But she can’t do that here, and she has to face the fact that not only did she happily cause this death, she failed her mission. She isn’t going to survive, and now this man is dead for nothing and everything is her fault

On the other hand, her entire breakdown could be completely fabricated in order to keep playing the role of the damsel in distress who is so innocent that the very sight of blood drives her to insanity. The interesting part about this is that if she could fake such a horrific breakdown, just how much of her personality a facade? We know she wants revenge, for everyone from Cradle to feel even an ounce of the pain she and so many others went through, but we don’t get to see the extent of how much she feels this way. We never hear directly from Akane about her feelings on any of the original organizers, just her note about her desire to punish them. She hates them, but does she see their deaths as a necessary evil, or does she feel joy and satisfaction at watching them go? It’s absolutely horrifying not knowing, not being able to see her true feelings, not knowing just how real or fake she is, the extent of her madness. Perhaps she doesn’t even know that herself

IN OTHER WORDS, it’s fucked

[neroushalvaus]

Tumblr in the 60s

☮ monkeewholock follow

🎉🎉CONGRATULATIONS UNITED KINGDOM 🎊🎊🎉🎉🎉🎉BYE BYE GROSS INDECENCY!!!!🌈🌈🌈 62 countries have now legalized sexual activities between men🌈🌈🌈

🐞 homophilespock follow

SPIRK CAN FINALLY FUCK

🚀 starrfleet follow

They are American, not British... But I'm pretty sure spirk has always been able to fuck since the show is set in the future.

📻 lesbianbobdylan follow

Christ, this is not about your cutesy uwu yaoi otp, go outside and smoke some grass

10,8 t. notes

🌻 flowerpower follow

Politicians are not your friends but damn Kennedy is fine, I look at one (1) picture of him and my head literally explodes

🌻 flowerpower follow

...i just woke up, why is my askbox full

🌻 flowerpower follow

WHY IS HE TRENDING I'M SCARED

🌻 flowerpower follow

guys stop reblogging this it's been like five years i've changed

290,9 t. notes

🎹 nixonsafascist follow

do you think they call him little richard because he has a little. Richard

🎹 nixonsafascist follow

easy website

58,1 t. notes

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Being the only lesbian in your friend group sucks so bad. "beatles or stones??" i will kill you

🗣 lavendermenaceisreal-deactivated72537262

Disrespecting female social groups for male validation? Typical lesbian behaviour.

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Mike Jacker isnt gonna fuck you

🇻🇳 shirellesofficial follow

Oh no I think she couldn't handle that

77 notes

✌ draftdodgerdyke

DM me for the addresses of my Swedish and Canadian friends. Do not put your personal information in the reblogs.

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

You should be ashamed of yourself.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

huh??

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

I said, you should be ashamed of yourself. You disgust me. I assure you, when the commies attack us, you will not find your silly little post "groovy" anymore.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Jesus, don't flip your wig

🙍‍♀️ silvermilk follow

My father fought in ww2 for you ungrateful degenerate.

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Don't see what your daddy's unsexiness has to do with me and my lads taking a sexy sexy trip to Sweden.

#anyway only hot guys dodge the draft

587 notes

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

in every interview i watch of the beatles they are so DONE and trolling everybody, these fucking annoying BITCHES, i need them inside me so badly

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

#this but not john lennon #i just can't forget the heinous things he said about jesus

idk I actually think it was very sexy of him, stop trying to cancel john in my post

✝️ jesusrevolution follow

The reading comprehension on this website is piss poor. John literally didn't mean he was greater than Jesus or better than Jesus, he was just trying to make a point about the world becoming more secular. Cancel culture has gone too far.

🚷 to-hell-with-the-beatles follow

How dare you say we piss on the poor?? Jesus died for Mr Lennon's sins and it's not "cancelling" to send him a few respectably worded death threats to remind him of that. He cancelled our Lord first!

✝️ jesusrevolution follow

Girl Jesus literally said it's cool, I dropped acid yesterday and saw Him and He told me.

🪕 prostitutesandlesbians follow

help the girls (christians) are fighting in my beatles thirst post

6,008 notes

🛼 donovandyke follow

I will be glued to the tv today. If you don't want to hear about it, just blacklist #moonlanding !!

0 notes

🗣 claudeberger4ever-deactivated98975287

Hi I'm new to the Hair musical fandom so I'm not super invested in the whole discourse, but I just felt like this needed to be said: Friendly reminder that not being against the war in Vietnam does not make you a bad person!

🥁 ringoforpresident follow

it literally does tho

✌ draftdodgerdyke

Another win for us hot guys

17,2 t. notes

[angelsheartts]

✩‧₊˚ I HOPE NOBODY CATCH US !! .

(but i kinda hope they catch us, anyway)

#pairing : lucifer, adam, alastor, vox x gn reader

#cw: suggestive content, +18 mdni, cuss words lmao, getting caught in suggestive situations ig?? tentacles on alastors part my bad, vox likes to get caught.

#notes: guys please feel free to ask requests, i’m getting out of ideas and i don't know what you all wanna read on my blog help.

PART ll

˖ ˚ ༘✶ LUCIFER .

you both were having a pretty steamy make-out session in your hotel room at the hazbin hotel, clearly not the best idea since everyone was still at the hotel, and HELL does lucifer gets loud.

"ah-, my love, " he whines loudly, pressing his forked tongue deep inside you. feeling him humping against your bedsheets as you wrap your legs around his neck, you knew he was close. "lucifer, you make me feel so gooood~" you moaned, grabbing his horns as you felt like your orgasm was soon to come.

well, nobody warned you how SENSITIVE this man was when someone touched his horns; his wings literally popped out in a second. "fuck, fuck, i’m so close (name); can i cum, honey ? please i-"

a door opened, making lucifer wrap his wings around you both. "(name), i heard some noises. is everything alri-" well, this was akward. "IMSOSORRYISHOULDHAVEKNOCKED" she said, embarrased, closing the door, leaving you and lucifer with a flushed red since you both literally got caught, by HIS daughter WHILE having an orgasm.

after that 'accident' charlie started knocking every time she entered your dorm, and apologised to you many times.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ ADAM .

adam can be very tiring sometimes when keeping his hands to himself, he would literally fuck you anywhere so everyone could see who makes you feel so fucking good if you would just let him, but of course you wouldn’t allow something like that.

except for today, you and adam had a meeting with the other angels so you wouldn’t have guessed that your husband had already been planning on how to convince you to do not-so-holy-things to skip the meeting.

until, you started noticing how touchy he was getting with you, at the beginning it was a playfully kiss on your neck then a slap in you ass and somehow you ended up giving him a blowjob.

"you’re so hot when you shut the fuck up" he said, smirking while gripping your hair tightly to make you go deeper. "fucking bitch, sucking it while having you on your knees, as you fucking should 'cause im the original dick, babe!" letting him talk to you like that reeallyy turned him on, just the thought of you being so obedient to him makes him want to cum.

"what the fuck" a voice made you both turn, noticing a lute with a very disgusted look in her face cursing at you both for being so reckless.

sadly this wasn’t the first time lute walked in on you both, so she just left LMAO.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ ALASTOR .

alastor tries to have the least amount of physical contact during such activities, so it wasn’t a rare occasion for you to finger yourself, while listening to his voice telling you what to do.

you didn’t really know if it was because you were bored, or you were just horny, but you had the urge to have some intimacy with alastor. he didn’t mind because it had been a long time since you both had some intimacy.

"you have been such a good partner, my dear” he praised, smirking widely like he always did. "I think it would only be fair if i give you something in return."

well, that was 15 minutes ago, and now here you were feeling his tentacles thrusting into you so roughly. alastor would only chuckle at your expressions while ocassionaly telling you to touch yourself as he wanted. seeing you trying to get some release made his bulge twitch inside his pants.

well, at least it made it twitch until someone interrupted you both, making your partner disappear the tentacles who were just inside you a few seconds ago.

angel dust was the one who accidentaly walked in on you both, and alastor told him if he ever talked or made jokes about what happened he would transmite his screams on his radio broadcoast. angel dust still teases you though.

˖ ˚ ༘✶ VOX .

vox actually wants you both to get caught, like he really has no shame at all. he loves fucking you if it means that you both might get caught in the act.

sadly, you can’t even recall how you ended up with him having you bend over his desk right before a meeting with the VEES.

surely, you both could have stopped if you wanted, but why would you even consider that when he’s literally vibrating just in the right spot, making you fuzzy from the overstimulation.

"fuck, yeah" your boyfriend's voice is shaky as he keeps thrusting in you, seeing how his cum rolls down your thighs, makes him increase his pace. "you really want us to get caught, don’t you, babe? squeezing me around as if i would even think about fucking pulling it out" he says chuckling with a slight glitch on his voice. "ah- vox, it’s too much i-" vox slapped your ass, making you yelp from pleasure as you were feeling so overwhelmed.

both of you being so close to your orgasm, didn’t noticed when velvette and valentino entered the room until velvette shouted at you both for fucking like animals, and not waiting until being in a more private place, alongside her was just a valentino smirking, while being dragged by velvette. valentino would have been glad to accept the offer if you would have invited him though.

[deadghosy]

🫧𓇼𓏲*ੈ✩‧₊˚🎐

JELLYFISH! READER X HAZBIN HOTEL

Prompt: A sea creature wants to bring light in hell. ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🪼⋆｡˚

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚ you died while being an oceanographer. You studied the ocean for its plant and creatures. You drowned specifically while trying to push a jellyfish away from you. And honestly, you went to hell becoming a flowing beautiful jellyfish.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Charlie welcomed you with opened arms, she liked how beautiful you are. The way you flow in the air, you were eye catching and majestic

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚jellyfish! reader is a Mitski, grimes, and tv girl fan of music. I think it fits their vibe at how peaceful but dangerous they are with their stingers.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how your human form would look. Jellyfish hair cut with the colors of the blue from your og form with some pink and purple. Or like blue and light blue. You would be an actual main attraction to the hotel.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you probably did get mistaken to get sent to hell instead of Heaven. You were beautiful like a heaven angel, but you were in the depths of hell. Surprisingly the hotel was a safe haven for you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚a beautiful creature like you gain the attention of many to the hotel. You could say that you are the main attraction. And Charlie doesn’t use you like that, but she does make you a resident to get into heaven.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vaggie finds you calming. You have this type of aura around you that just makes people relax. So your hotel room is specially designed to your liking. Which is a dark blue wall with a glowing blue that has ocean waves. It’s basically jellyfish’s en ocean designed. It’s just so magical.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you love floating around as keekee would follow you around. Then you would have the egg boiz following you plus fat nuggets. You just collected your own little band of little people.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚husk doesn’t know much about you in the hotel other than you are practically the princess/prince of the water in hotel. You make sure the water is okay as it’s your duty.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once had made water appear. You had guess you have water power based on you drowning. And using that power, you soaked husk who started to go crazy almost scratch angel dust in irritation. 

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Lucifer admires your colorful being. Like he may seem as if he doesn’t care about you. But he sorta does as he secretly makes you a jellyfish toy that lights up in the dark.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚alastor, he might as well try to see what you are. He still senses a human soul in which makes him want to get your soul. A human souls is rare than a disgusting sinner’s soul. But you sting him every time he tries to even get close.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you once accidentally stung Alastor with your stingers. He oddly didn’t lash out at you, but rather just walked away. He was trying to hold on the stinging pain you gave him.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sir Pentious found you alluring even. Frank and the rest of the egg boiz agree. Frank once called you mom/dad since you were singing him a lullaby.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚imagine how crazy you can be. Like one day you are the calming person every one loves and knows in the hotel. And next thing people know is that you are stinging people just because they breathed the wrong way around you.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚luckily you are a passive aggressive person sometimes. Or else you would be frying people like bacon. EXTRA CRISY‼️

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚angel dust dead ass thinks you should have a cute blue ocean crown or necklace. Maybe even a cute blue with purple star car. Bro he’s thinking of so much ways to make you girly pop.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚you could’ve had shocked angels, and I mean literally cause if it was the battle between hell and heaven. You would win lmao. Cause what if you shocked then hoes into an angel kebab

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on how your stingers is as powerful like the jellyfishes in SpongeBob. You area full electric chair.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚vox had a whole board about who tf were you. Legit was giving crazy science man vibes cause how tf is a jellyfish in hell?! You don’t even look demon! You dead ass don’t fit the hell palette. As he is making theories, Valentino and Velvette just stare at each other like “wtf is this?”

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚now say you did went to heaven. Everything would probably be different, but you are something no one had seen before. A jelly fish angel? Yeah that seems unique.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Heaven would admire your original look. Your calming energy makes most of heaven better. Like say for example the angels complement each other with the light of your energy and how your energy flows. You basically have a pheromone, but it’s for positivity to be spread. #bethereasonsomeonesmiles LMAO

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Adam probably makes fun of how you are such a small sea thing creature. But then he switches up when you turn into your human form and start to sting his ass every time he tries to offend you. Fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚sera would possibly have you as a cherub cause of your small jellyfish form. It only makes sense for you to be one as you are so adorable.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚Emily adores you. She knows you don’t mean any harm towards her with your stingers. She’s the type of person who makes you a flower crown cause she loves it be creative around people she likes. Honestly 10/10 friendship honestly.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚lute probably doesn’t care about you much. Other than your stingers are damn annoying. She just wants to rip them out, but you are is kind and sweet. So you have her vote to stay in heaven with her.

𖦹 * 🪼 ₊˚headcannon on you just humming a soft lullaby as you swim in the air, your blue soft glow in the dark makes anyone go to sleep. The blue is pretty alluring.

A/N: I tried a different writing style with the “bullet points” I hope you guys like this lol and sorry if it seems lazy.✨ inspired by: @selvyyr <3

[star-girl69]

In A Good Way

Clarisse La Rue x Fem!AphroditeCabin!Reader

—-

sypnosis: basically episode two but if clarisse had a gf (so what should have been canon pretty much)

a/n: sorry dior is so fine i had to get the thoughts out this is kinda shitty also but anyways i hope you all enjoy!!

In A Good Way - Faye Webster

warnings: some violence, swearing, soft and ooc clarisse but only bc i wholeheartedly believe she is soft only for her gf and i love soft clarisse, also protective!clarisse my weakness, i’m insane, cringe, tell me if i missed anything!!

—-

You watch Clarisse bump into the poor boy.

You’re sitting with your siblings, Tyla and Jackie, but your eyes were drawn to her even across the courtyard. Your eyes are always drawn to her.

She shoulders him hard, then immediately turns around and pushes him straight to the ground. Tyla gasps next to you as he crashes sharply into the dirt.

“Your girlfriend is a literal menace, Y/N,” Jackie scoffs.

“How do you think I feel having to deal with her?”

You really do feel bad for the boy, Percy, you think. Regardless of whether or not he really killed the Minotaur (Clar spent the entire night talking your ear off about how it simply can’t be true) it’s his first day at camp. He’s helpless, to say the least.

Feeling less than your whole life and then finally coming to a place where everyone else is like you, finally getting answers- it’s a shock.

You always feel bad for every new camper. Especially the young and tiny ones like him. Besides, you like his cute blonde hair.

“Oh, haha,” Jackie rolls her eyes. “You love her.”

You start to get up, faking a dramatic sigh, “I do.”

Tyla giggles as you walk away and come into earshot.

“Hey. Knock it off, Clarisse. It’s like his first day, come on.” Luke seems as unimpressed as he always does, slightly apathetic, as another Hermes cabin member tugs Percy up.

“Wait, so, this is the kid who killed the Minotaur. Is that right?” she takes a step forward, a misleading smile on her face.

“Yeah,” Percy says, awkwardly looking around.

“I’ll bet,” she smiles, her eyes lighting up in prospect of someone new to torture. “Look, you want attention around here, dummy? You better be ready for it when it comes.”

Her eyes meet yours.

“Clarisse!” you say in a sing-song voice, walking up to her and placing your hand on her shoulder. “He’s, like, twelve.”

“Oh, but he’s strong enough to kill a Minotaur?”

Your eyes lock, her hand brushes your hip, and you get those same cliche butterflies in your stomach you always do when you look at her.

You smile.

You see her eyes soften.

She turns back to Percy after a moment, faking forward, and he flinches so hard he almost falls back.

Her and her Ares siblings laugh, you roll your eyes, and push her away. She walks away, her siblings in tow, and you turn back to Luke.

On Luke, Thalia, and Annabeth’s last stretch to camp, they came across you. Your satyr protector had been killed by a monster protecting you, and Luke had held your hand and promised that all of you were going to make it to camp.

You’ll always have that bond with Luke, even though Clar hates his guts and his best swordsman in camp title.

You place your arm on his shoulder, he slings a loose arm around your waist.

Luke is pretty much the only person who can get away with touching you like this, or else they’ll receive a nice message from Clarisse in the form of a dagger barely missing their face.

“Ares kids,” Luke explains to Percy. “They come by it honestly. You got lucky today. If Y/N hadn’t come around, you probably would have gotten knocked over again.”

“Hi,” you say, sticking out your hand. “I’m Y/N.” Percy shakes your hand, smiling awkwardly.

“She’s Clarisse’s girlfriend and the only thing that stands between the camp and total destruction.”

“Oh,” Percy says, not quite able to hide his surprise and slight disgust. “She seems… nice.”

“Well, if you look like me, she’ll love you. But… I don’t think that’ll happen.”

Percy chuckles a bit.

“Why don’t they bother you?” he asks Luke.

“Ah, they know better,” he says, squeezing you closer to him.

“Yeah, Luke’s the best swordsman in camp,” one of Luke’s siblings says. You can see something in Percy’s eyes, a light that reminds you a bit of Clar.

“So, they stay away from you because, glory? So, if I get glory, Clarisse wouldn’t mess with me either?”

“Exactly,” Luke affirms. You look at him out of the corner of your eye. What the Hades is he teaching him?

“And people think I’m a big deal?”

“Well, sorta-”

“And my dad’s got no choice but to claim me.”

Oh. Your heart squeezes for him.

“You… you can’t force the Gods to do anything,” Luke says, trying not to hurt Percy too much.

“Well, yeah, but… it would make it a lot harder for him to pretend I don’t exist, right?”

“Maybe,” Luke concedes.

“Great. Where do we start?”

You laugh. “Ooh, I like the way you think.” You slip away from Luke, smiling at Percy. “Come find me if you wanna try your hand at some Aphrodite skills.”

—-

You find Clarisse sitting outside her cabin at a picnic table, polishing her spear, her favorite activity.

You sit down next to her.

“Hey, baby,” she murmurs, a bit too entranced with the gift from her father.

“I only have a few minutes before I go to archery, but… I think you’ll enjoy this.” She looks over at you for a second, then right back to the spear. “Don’t make me charmspeak you, La Rue.”

“Okay. Okay, sorry, what?” she sets the spear down in her lap, staring up at you with a smile as if she hadn’t been ignoring you a second ago.

“Percy Jackson wants to find glory so you’ll stop bothering him,” she snorts, “and so his father will have to claim him.”

She hums.

“Well, I like him. I think he’s cute.”

She shoots you a bored look.

“Don’t say horrible things like that.”

You play with a curl hanging over her shoulder. “We both know I’ll say whatever I want.”

“Oh, I know.”

—-

“What happened to you?”

You turn to look at Clarisse’s smirking face.

“What?”

She rolls her eyes. “C’mere,”

You lean forward, across the space between the Aphrodite cabin and the Ares cabin tables. Clarisse puts her hand to your face, thumb tracing along your cheekbone. She pulls back, and you stare at her dirt covered thumb.

“You’re covered in dirt, gorgeous.”

You hurriedly raise your hand up to your face, groaning when your palm does in fact come away covered in dirt.

“Percy is definitely not a child of Apollo,” you mutter.

“What d’you mean?” Clarisse asks, handing you a few extra napkins as you begin to wipe off your face, a spot on your shirt you had noticed.

“Luke’s taking him around, trying to figure out what he’s got a talent for. It was funny, actually, he shot the arrow over all of us on the side and we all went crashing into the ground.”

She doesn’t seem to find it as funny as you do.

“It was an accident, Clar!” you say, all sing-song again.

“Oh, I’m sure it was. Exactly why I don’t believe he killed that Minotaur.”

“Adrenaline makes even mortals do crazy things.”

“You don’t kill a Minotaur with adrenaline,” she hisses.

—-

Capture the Flag is held the next day. Clarisse and two of her siblings have been particularly pissed off all morning, and no matter how much you bug her, she only says “you’ll see” in this horribly nerve-wracking tone.

You have the same job you do every game. Sit in front of the flag, and charmspeak anyone who tries to come near it.

You’re decent with a bow, okay with a sword, but this is one area where you really shine, where you can really help.

After the first game, the blue team has learned to wear ear plugs when they come near you. But you’re like a siren, you come around and take out their ear plugs anyways. They’re scared to touch you, because one of the Ares kids will run right off to Clarisse, and she tells you all the time that she’d rather lose dessert privileges for a month then see you with one scratch.

Chiron stands imposingly on the large rock at the start of the small river that divides the two halves of the woods.

“The first team to retrieve the opposing flag and return it across the river shall be the victor.”

You know these rules by heart.

Ever since your first Game, the day you met Clarisse, you’ve loved them. You’re not the most violent person, nothing near Clar and her insatiable thirst for competition, but there’s just something about the game.

She walks forward through the sea of red-marked armor, digging her spear into the ground and glaring at what you can only assume to be Percy Jackson.

“Any magical items you may possess are permitted as well. Every camper who is not injured has to play. Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged.”

You suppress a laugh at that rule. That one was only implemented a few games ago, right after the one where you had been taken prisoner and tied with vines to a tree. When Clar had heard, she actually almost murdered a few kids and maimed some more.

Although it made keeping prisoners a little awkward, Chiron had proclaimed it was in everyone’s best interests.

“Let the games begin!” he shouts, the conch blows, and the entire team screams in a terrifying war cry.

The blue team bangs their shields and weapons together, and now you have 20 minutes before game on.

Clarisse is the captain of your team, of course. She marches around barking orders to everyone, as if their positions aren’t already drilled into their heads.

“Hey Clar,” you say. You’re surrounded by a few Ares kids, a few other good fighters, ready to protect the flag and by extension you- with their lives.

Capture the flag games are taken seriously.

She looks at the red flag in your hands, smiling in that smug way she always does. She doesn’t smile this way when it’s just you and her, but you can still see the softness in her eyes even now. With Clarisse, her emotions are all about the eyes.

“You all know what you’re doing?” she asks. All the kids behind you nod. “Good,” she smirks, starting to walk away.

“Are you hunting in your usual woods today?” you ask, heading in the same direction as her.

She smiles, a full toothy grin.

“Oh, baby, I have something even better planned.”

Clarisse is not one to change the strategy.

You can’t get it out of your head what she’s been saying about Percy.

“If you kill someone, I’m killing you.”

She just smiles.

—-

One of the kids holds the flag from up on a rock, acting like a lookout. You lean against that rock, your armor digging into your thighs at the awkward angle, waiting for someone to come. Everyone else surrounds you in the flag, in battle stances.

The conch blew about 20 minutes ago, and you should be seeing someone soon.

“I think Luke’s coming,” Corey, the Apollo kid lookout says.

“Of course he is,” you mutter. He’s always in charge of getting the flag, because he’s not afraid to touch you. Clarisse knows he’s just your friend, or else he probably would have been dead by now. They emerge from the woods, not bothering to try for stealth, all in defensive positions.

Everyone lets you take the lead. You understand why Clarisse loves power. It’s addicting, it’s like lightening in your veins.

“Hi, Luke,” you smile.

He can’t hear you, but he returns the smile.

“You’re all going to turn around and walk 300 feet in the other direction.”

Luke sighs as one of the kids actually turns and walks away, heeding your command. Everyone else has their earplugs in tight, but it always gets one or two of them.

You roll your eyes. “You always make this so difficult, Luke.”

You walk towards him, maybe you can surprise him and rip the ear plugs out of your ear, but he suddenly springs his leg out so you trip, slamming into the ground and getting a face full of dirt.

“Bitch,” you mumble, ready to get up. Suddenly, a Hermes girl throws herself on top of you, slapping a hand over your mouth.

As soon as you hit the ground, the fight erupts around you.

“You can’t do this, Luke, it’s against the rules!” you screech, but it’s muffled through the girls thick leather gloves.

Matty, one of Clar’s siblings sighs heavily. “Fuckin’ hate this dude,” he mumbles. “Marjorie, go get Clarisse.”

The girl runs off, and Matty adjusts his helmet.

“Don’t know why you do this to yourself, man.”

Luke kneels down in front of you while you scream obscenities next to his name. He makes a big show of taking out his earplugs before ruffling your hair.

“Thanks, Y/N.”

He whips around and his sword immediately clashes with Matty’s, and they’re locked in a flurry of metal clashing and glinting in the sunlight. Matty is really good, probably bested only by Clarisse, but Luke is still the best swordsman in camp.

He puts up a valiant fight, but Luke disarms him.

Your back is really, really starting to hurt like this.

It’s whirlwind, but there were more blue team then red team, and sometimes sheer number beats out even the best of the Ares cabin.

They grab the flag and run for the beach.

The girl waits for another moment until one of the Ares kids points his sword at her.

“You’re really gonna want to let her go,” Matty says. She stands up and books it, following her team.

“Eat dirt!” you scream as she runs away, but she still has her earplugs in.

Matty helps you up.

“Clarisse’s gonna kill us all.”

“I hate Luke Castellan. I hate him, I hate him, I wish him nothing but pain and suffering.”

Matty claps your shoulder.

“Hey, at least we all get to watch Clarisse beat up the Hermes cabin at sword practice tomorrow.”

And you do like seeing Clar fight, the way she’s so focused and truly in her element, sweat making her skin glisten in the sunlight…

“That will be fun,” you concede. Matty laughs, and you all make your way down to the beach.

—-

The scream scares you.

All the kids around you jump up with their swords, thinking a monster had somehow made its way near camp, but you recognize that voice.

“Clarisse,” you mumble, feeling frozen.

“What?” Matty asks, his eyes scanning the forest. “What’d you say?”

“Clarisse,” you repeat, breaking off into a run towards the sound of it, towards the beach.

“Clar- wait, Y/N!”

But you’re already long gone.

—-

You make it to the beach a minute after the conch sounded, the blue team having won, making it just in time to see the blue trident appear over Percy’s head. You can barely even register the fact that he’s a forbidden child, your eyes immediately finding Clar’s siblings, the ones she was supposed to be hunting with today.

“Hey, hey,” you breathe out, almost slamming into one of them. “W-where’s Clarisse? I heard her scream-”

You love her so much it’s like your heart will break if you even think about her being hurt. It always seems like Clar is the one who loves you more, only because of her proud and overprotective nature, but really you love her just as much.

You just never have the opportunity to threaten to kill someone like she does for you. She does that all on her own.

“Oh, uh, she went that way,” he points in the direction of a barely there path, heading into the woods and back to camp.

“Great, thanks!” you shout, already running after her.

You catch up with her after a minute, your gaze landing on her practically stomping through the woods. She’s angry. She’s angry, why?

“Clar!” you shout, and she whips around, standing still while you sprint over to her. “Clarisse, Clarisse, are you hurt? I-I heard you scream-”

You run your hands up and down her arms, and after a tense second of her staring at the ground, she puts her hands on your hips.

“I’m not hurt, I’m fine.”

She looks like she’s about to cry. But you know she won’t ever let herself cry, won’t ever let herself be perceived as weak.

You wrap your arms and let her put her face in your neck. She’s almost shaking with how angry she is, her fingers digging into your hips, and she stops herself and lets go before she can hurt you.

“Oh, baby,” you murmur. You’re not sure what happened. But she screamed like that, not like she was scared, but like she had just lost something. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” She says into your neck, simple, and you respect it.

“Okay, well, let’s go back to your cabin. You’re not gonna believe the day I had. Will it make you happy to know I give you permission to beat up Luke?”

She looks up at you with skeptical eyes. You both ignore the tears staining her cheeks. “Really?” she asks, slightly hopeful, even through all her anger and sadness.

“Come on,” you smile, letting go of her and sliding you hand into hers. She meets your pace and wraps her arm around your waist. She doesn’t tell you she loves you, but you know.

—-

You flop down onto Clar’s bed. As the head counselor, she gets the best bunk. On the second floor loft, where there’s only enough space for single beds, meaning she doesn’t have to deal with bunk beds, all the way in the corner for a little privacy.

She stands in front of you, slipping off her shoes, and your reach forward to work at the knots of her breastplate.

She stares at you until the armor is lose around her, and she lifts it up over her head and leaves it haphazardly on the ground.

You lay flat, stretching your aching back, and Clar leans over you to help you take off your armor. You probably don’t even need armor, but Clarisse is overprotective by nature, by blood. It makes her feel better, and it really doesn’t bother you much. She lifts it over your head, letting the metal crash into the floor before laying down next to you.

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I’m supposed to be here for you but I’m so tired, and my back hurts so bad…”

She laughs. You smile, and it falls into comfortable silence.

“Can I really beat up Luke?” she says after a second.

You open your eyes and she’s laying on her side, propped up her arm and staring at you.

“Oh, you can.”

“Why?” she asks, still not quite believing you.

“Okay, so, Luke comes over, right. And you know, I try to charmspeak them but only one of them goes. I walk over to Luke and he fucking trips me! It was so embarrassing, baby, I literally ate shit.”

She smiles and puts her arm around your waist, tugging you closer to her.

“Then, some girl tackles me before I can get up, and puts her hand over my mouth so I can’t do anything. Which first of all, is completely against the rules, and second of all, it really hurt my back! Then, then, Luke has the audacity to say ‘Oh, thanks Y/N!’ and ruffles my hair, like? I swear to Gods, I just want him to… well, I don’t know. Suffer.”

“Don’t worry, gorgeous,” she mutters into the top of your head. “I’ll make sure he’s unrecognizable.”

You smile. “I don’t know what I would do without you, Clarisse. Who would defend my honor and fight my battles?”

She seems sort of placid, tired, like she’s just a still lake reacting to your body wading in deeper. It’s almost like she’s gonna fall asleep, and she’s always tired after capture the flag, so it’s not unusual.

“I’d be there,” she mutters, her eyes closed.

You’re both silent for a few more minutes, just the two of you together, her strong arm around you, the way it’s always meant to be.

“He’s a son of Poseidon. Did you see?”

“Yes,” you whisper. “I saw.”

“It’s not fair,” she says, like the child she never got to be. “I spend so much time, so much time trying to make him proud- it took months for him to claim me and he gets claimed on, what, his third day?”

Her head lands on your chest, your hands smoothing down her hair.

She touches the necklace she gave you months ago, bringing it out from under your shirt, the simple chain with the pretty charm that looks like a spear. More so an arrow, but it’s supposed to be her spear.

“He broke it,” she whispers.

“Broke what?”

She sits up a little higher, her hands reaching behind you and undoing the clasp on your necklace. You haven’t even taken it off since she put it on you, so of course she would be the one to take it off.

“He broke my spear.”

“Oh, Clarisse…” she stares at the necklace before folding it up tightly in her palm. She breathes out as she lays back down on your chest, her legs entwining with yours, your hand back in her curls.

“The Hephaestus kids can fix it, but it won’t be electrical anymore.”

You don’t say anything. Most people would say “it’s better than nothing” but you’re demigods with absent divine parents.

Clarisse didn’t tell you it was better than nothing to at least be claimed by Aphrodite when one of your siblings got a magic item from her. She didn’t try and tell you “maybe someday” when you cried in her arms.

Because more often then not, you’ll die before your godly parent even claims you. More kids die on their way to Camp Half-Blood then Chiron would like to admit.

And what would the Gods do? Nothing. They would do nothing about it, because they don’t care.

Clarisse doesn’t cry, but you know she wants to, and you let her know that she can cry if she wants to. She can, if she has to. You’d never turn her away.

If she hasn’t realized already, you’re in this for the long run.

—-

Clarisse fell asleep in your arms, then pulled you back when you tried to go back to your own cabin, and you figured Chiron wouldn’t mind this once.

She finally let you go after you screamed that she couldn’t kiss you before you brushed your teeth, mumbling about how you’re depriving her.

When you meet up with her again, she has her sword in hand and her armor strapped tight to her body.

It was just a great big coincidence that the Hermes, Aphrodite, Ares and Demeter cabins all had sword practice at the same times. Clarisse looked all too happy at being able to get out some anger from yesterday, because sparring is the only way Clar has to work out the intense feelings she inherited from her father.

“So, who should I metaphorically kill?”

“Ooh, big word,” you tease. She grabs your chin, making you look at her, but she’s smiling too much for it to be a threat.

“C’mon, baby, who?”

“Luke. And…” you point, “That’s the girl who tackled me. Oh, and that’s the boy who fought Corey and got the flag. I don’t know his name.”

“‘Cause he’s irrelevant,” she says. You hum. “You just wait right here, gorgeous, enjoy the show.” She winks before sauntering off in the girls direction, smiling in that misleading way, asking her if she wants to spar.

You beckon Jackie and Tyla over to you, who both seem unimpressed.

“Please don’t tell me you put Clarisse up to attacking the Hermes cabin,” Tyla sighs.

“I didn’t put her up to anything. She did it all on her own.”

“Oh, sure she did,” Jackie rolls her eyes.

“Don’t act like you all aren’t gonna enjoy it.”

Tyla meets your eyes, then Jackie’s.

“Sorry, Jacks, it’s, like, really entertaining!”

You all laugh as Clar leads the girl into the circle, laughing even harder when she disarms her after a minute. The boy who took the flag barely lasts 45 seconds.

When Luke walks up to her, she throws her sword down and tackles him. You give her a minute before you pull her off.

—-

clarisse, about to beat up percy

y/n: oh no no no no you don’t

clarisse: ok i won’t kill him rn 😍😍😍😍

—-

y/n: yeah like idk what i would do without you who would protect me and fight my battles

clarisse “i would be there” la rue: bitch our love transcends the laws of physics I WOULD BE THERE

—-

y/n giggling and kicking her feet watching clarisse beat up luke

—-

[nereidprinc3ss]

andromeda | (dybmn? bonus)

a bonus vignette from spencer's POV. we find out how he really feels about reader. takes place the day before the argument at the bar.

note: this is not part six! takes place between parts four and five.

series masterlist

18+ warnings/tags: fem!reader, semi-graphic descriptions of sexual fantasies, some angst, you're not actually present, mention of alcohol, very vague discussions of murdery stuff bc he's supposed to be working, sassy spencer makes an appearance a/n: for all my angels who said they wanted a snippet of spencer's POV! i'm sorry if i'm overdoing it with this story or clogging the spencer tags, i'm just having a lot of fun! i hope you enjoy or that this may be clears some things up for you, pls lmk your thoughts:) ily!!!

Spencer is incessantly drumming the particle board table underneath his fingers.

The polymer veneer is one of his least favorite textures—he hates the grain of it and if he were to accidentally scratch the table with his nails he knows it would make the hair on the back of his neck stand up. 

But of all the things he’s worried about, that ranks very low on the list. 

He’s got a lot of mental tabs open all the time—and the tabs, he can deal with. It’s when he starts trying to operate with multiple windows that he begins to struggle. His brain, while it is a very fine tuned sort of computer, only has one monitor. Unfortunately, no human (except for the ones who’ve had their brain hemispheres surgically split) is immune to the inevitable pitfalls of multitasking. By dividing his mental energy between you and his job, he’s really fucking up his job. But he also thinks he really fucked up with you on that phone call the other night and for being as logical as he is he can’t seem to make that feel unimportant—even though he’s disgusted with himself for it because there are literally people dying. 

Someone knocks on the open conference room door—he looks up, skimming his lips over his fist. 

“What’s up?” he says too quickly upon seeing Emily’s mildly concerned face peering in on him. 

Her mouth bridges into a sort of nonchalant frown and her brows kick up. 

“Just… checking in. Haven’t heard from you all morning.”

“Yeah, the, uh—the geo-profile. I’m still… I’m still working it out.”

It’s not like he’s ever been phenomenal with his syntax in a social sense, but Spencer is certainly aware he’s doing even worse than usual right now. 

“Okay. Uh… is there anything in particular stumping you, or…?”

“Nope. Just not enough information. But I’m—I’m going to keep trying.”

“Alright. Got your phone handy?”

It’s an odd question—of course he has his phone handy. He’s been doing this job longer than Emily has. How else would he communicate with the rest of the team? He bristles. 

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t I?”

Emily shakes her head. She’s always been particularly good at reading his moods.

“You’re not under attack, Reid. I was just asking.”

Just as he’s about to say, why would you assume I’m not prepared for my job, he manages to swerve away and stifle the words with his fist. Instead he looks back down at his copy of the map and nods. In reality, he truly isn’t prepared for his job today. The reason he has his phone so close, fully charged and at top volume is because he’s worried he’ll miss a call from you. 

Emily says something else, and he hums in response, and then she’s gone. 

He shouldn’t be reading into your reticence this much. It’s not like you just sit by the phone all day, eagerly awaiting a call or text from him (like he does you). You have a life. You’re busy. And even if you are intentionally dodging his texts, he can’t entirely fault you for it. Spencer knows he’s clingy. He knows he’s overbearing. It’s part of why he panicked the other night and told you the whole humiliating story about Elle. Because he can’t ever just be cool and he felt the need to explain himself. 

But the problem was, and is, that he doesn’t know how much longer he can go without saying those three words that fucked him over all those years ago.

So he’d danced around them. Applied them to someone else to try and avoid outright professing his all-consuming love for you over the phone. However you feel, Spencer has to assume he feels more. Spencer always has to assume he feels more because he usually does and it’s gotten him into trouble before. And now he’s pretty sure he was exactly right, as often is the case, because you didn’t tell him he was mistaken and you’d clammed up and you haven’t talked to him since and he’s not supposed to be reading into it this much. 

Three victims killed and dumped within a 6 mile radius of the first victim plus one victim killed and dumped 23.8 miles away. That doesn’t make any fucking sense. Fuck this guy. 

Spencer decides the problem is that he needs more caffeine. 

Or possibly, if he were a different kind of man—copious amounts of alcohol. 

So he stows his phone in a pocket and asks the first person he sees where the coffee machine is. 

“Looks like you found it earlier,” the woman says, glancing pointedly down at his mostly empty mug. A playful smirk tugs at pinkish-brownish lips. She’s pretty, he realizes distantly. But he registers it the same way he’d take note of the model of a car, or the species of a bird, or the kind of shoes someone is wearing. It doesn’t actually interest him. It’s just part of processing his environment. “I can show you to it?”

He doesn’t have the heart or energy to explain that someone else brought him his cup earlier and he’s not flirting with her. 

“If you could just point me in the right direction…?”

She laughs, short and dry, before she’s pointing down a hall. 

“Kitchenette down there and to the left.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, already walking away without sparing her a second glance. 

She’s the kind of woman he would have paid a lot more attention to before you came along. Not that he’d ever sleep with someone on the job (not since he was 25, anyway), but if he’d met her under any other circumstances he probably would have cared more about the way her pupils dilated and her eyes had widened slightly and she’d adjusted her posture and all the other small things people do when they’re attracted to someone else. 30 year old Spencer might have slept with her. 27 year old Spencer definitely would have slept with her. Current Spencer obsessively pines for a woman who is already his girlfriend and whom he has yet to sleep with at all far too much to think about other women like that. 

But god, does he think about you like that. 

His feet carry him down the dim, carpeted hallway but really it took barely a nudge and he’s thinking about you like that. At work. As he’s pouring himself coffee. 

Spencer is confident in the fact that if anyone were to look at him right now, they’d never guess he’s running clips of you in his mind like a dirty supercut. Because he’s just pouring coffee. That’s one good thing about having all those tabs open all the time. He can toggle between them quickly. He has enough going on in the background that people look at him and all they can tell is that he’s thinking hard about lots of things. Some of them just happen to be the way you look when you’re naked on his bed, skin shining and glazed eyes sleepy, parted lips higher in color than usual and catching your breath. Some of them happen to be your hair brushing his stomach before he gathers it back for you. Some of them happen to be the way your thighs feel on either side of his face, or how you stretch around his fingers, or how you might feel when you stretch around his—

He hisses as hot coffee overflows from the mug and burns his hand. 

Maybe he’s not as calm and collected as he thought. 

But on top of all the other things he’s dealing with, having been so close to actually sleeping with you the other night is really fucking with his head. Even if he tells himself he wouldn't have done it, he knows himself better than that. He's too familiar with the effect you have on his judgement.

“Found it okay?” 

Spencer looks down, surprised to see the woman from earlier sitting at her desk and watching him as he quickly passes by on his way back to the conference room. Her legs are crossed. She’s wearing a pencil skirt and a flouncy sort of blouse which seems impractical for working in an FBI field office. Maybe she notices his eye catching on her figure and misguidedly swivels her chair to give him a better look. But all he’s noticing is that it doesn’t look like yours. Now he’s picturing the curve of your hip dripping in silk after that first night at Rossi’s. How your waist and your stomach feel when he slides his hands over you. This woman—she might as well not even be here for all he’s actually seeing her. 

“Yeah. Thanks again.”

Then he’s gone. Very briefly he acknowledges that he should feel sorry for so obviously brushing her off, but he doesn’t care even close to enough. He sets the coffee down on the table and rounds to the board where one of several maps is taped. On autopilot he draws lines between dump sites because one of the background tabs had deduced, while he was busy watching you like porn, that the distance between dump sites form the beginnings of the constellation Orion with some mathematical precision that’s too exacting to be coincidental. Orion’s Belt plus the most recent victim. Betelgeuse. 

There are ten formally named stars that make up Orion. He marks all of them, but circles the transposed coordinates of Bellatrix, Saiph, Rigel and Meissa as the next most likely dump sites. Most probably it will be Orion’s head. They’re all in wooded areas. He calls Garcia. Garcia will call Emily, wherever she is. If the unsub sticks to pattern, which they always do, they have until midnight. It’s trite, really. Predictable, like people always are. Far too quickly he drinks half the cup of scalding coffee and retraces his steps through the office to find the bathroom. 

It’s empty. The fluorescent lights hum. Spencer washes his hands with cold water and presses still wet fingers to his eyes. You’re waiting for him behind the black of his lids.

At first you would whine, and he would kiss you and you’d moan into his mouth and say his name when he opened you up as far as you would go. The air would be thick and warm with sex and vanilla perfume. Afterwards he’d take care of you and buy new sheets for his bed in your favorite color even if they didn’t match the walls and there would be nothing you’d want for that he couldn’t give to you ever again. 

But. 

That’s all contingent. 

No matter how often he fantasizes about it, no matter in how much detail, and regardless of how often those details change wildly, one thing always stays the same. 

The shape of your lips, swollen from kissing, bending around five or six vowels and only two consonants (it seems odd that there are only two consonants in I love you), sometimes before you start, sometimes in the middle or right at the peak—but always there, always moving in slow motion—and always silent.

In real life, they’d be aloud. It’s why his fantasies aren’t good enough. It’s why he can’t stop fantasizing about it. That’s the only part that really matters to him. The rest varies. 

Not because having sex with you doesn’t matter—it matters so much he almost shatters his molars whenever he starts picturing it around other people. But because Spencer can’t have sex with you until you love him. 

And he worries that you can’t love him until you have sex with him. 

The last time he thought that about a person, it didn’t turn out well.

Maybe there is some magic number. Some amount of times you need to have sex with someone before they’ll love you back. 

If there is, he knows for a fact it’s more than 32.

And he also knows, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he cannot have loveless sex with you thirty three times while he waits to find out. 

Not again. 

But he's going to hold out as long as he possibly can until you say it because he so badly wants you to love him back. He'll let the weight of every ignored text, every reminder that you don't feel that way about him, hang from his shoulders until he collapses. And then he'll probably try to get back up.

Recycled paper towels scratch against his skin. He dries his face and hands and throws them crumpled into the trash can. 

Outside the restroom, he pulls out his phone. For safety reasons and paranoia disguised as professionalism, you’re not his lock screen. It’s a photo of the Andromeda Galaxy. Whatever distance lies between you and Spencer, it could always be greater. No matter where you are in the world, you will always be the same 2.537 million light years away from Andromeda that he is. 

It makes Orion feel much closer. You, too. 

He sends you a text—the third message in a row. 

The distance between blue bubbles feels like light years. 

I’ll be home tomorrow. I miss you. 

[solitude4chiron]

Hobie Headcannons cs some of y’all be treating this man like he’s some white goth nga that’s never had black experiences 😭😭 these are js off the top of my head so don’t tweak out… JUH VIBE

He’s most likely Jamaican/British or African/British because he’s from the UK

He has had multiple people try to force him into playing basketball at least once because he’s 6’5

“Man, so you telling me you ain’t never tried going D1?”

“Never even played.”

“NIGGA WHAT?”

Has gotten his hand popped multiple times from touching his hair while getting it done

“How many do you have left?”

“Boy move that damn hand.”

Gives horrible advice then says “but I don’t kno, thats just me”

“She cheated on me bru. Like cheated. Called me ON FACETIME while they was hunchin.”

“Me personally I would find the guy and start a gas leak in their house while his family is sleeping. But ion kno, that’s just me tho.”

Played soccer as a kid with a makeshift paper soccer ball

Was one of those kids who were forced to finish their plate before leaving the dinner table so he would sit at the table till the next day playing with his food

Illegally listens to and downloads most of the music he likes

“Wanna do a Spotify blend?”

“Y’all use that shi?”

“who df are you bro…”

Will side eye you till you burst out laughing if you both see something crazy in public 

Sung chi-chi man religiously as a child before he knew what the song meant (iykyk)

Takes pictures of white people with braids or locs

Hobie: Attachment: 1

disgusting creatures…

Hangs trash bags on his doorknobs around the house

Had entire debates as a child with older people at the cookout on why he should be able to eat ribs instead of hotdogs

“These steaks for the adults, go grab a lil hotdog and a juice.”

“But why? Can’t we both eat and enjoy the same things without you having to dehumanize me and view me only as a child without preferences for food?”

“Boy go get that fuckin hotdog and caprisun get out my face.”

Had his hairline pushed back astronomically far when he was little (Nigerian boy canon event)

On the other hand he probably never had his hair cut as a kid and started free-forming when he was young (I’m conflicted between both)

Constantly had a smart mouth as a kid (he still does), like CONSTANTLY. Once he got his lips snatched and balled into a fist

Would steal, get caught and say is “it cause I’m black?”

“Yo, were you stealing back there?”

“Why bruv? Cause I’m black?”

“Nevermind.”

Touches hot ass food with his bare hands. Like he will flip pancakes with his hands.

Can literally sleep anywhere.. like anywhere. People in his band have pictures of him hunched over on sinks, sleeping on bathroom floors, in bathtubs with the curtains wrapped around him, on the bus. Anywhere you can think of.

He doesn’t spend much money on birthday gifts or gifts in general. He likes to make things by hand even if he has to spend a few weeks

After his shows he loves to meet people in the crowd, even if they freak out. He isn’t really for the idolizing so he doesn’t know how to express his emotions too much on that.

“OH MY GOD HOBIE!?!”

“i aint think i was that special but thanks luv”

• His jacket makes HELLA noise and he doesn’t realize it. Just like if he had beads in his hair.

“imma get bro good this time..”

“Hobie don’t even try to scare me, i hear that big ass jacket thumpin down the hallway.”

• The first time he kissed a girl with lip piercings like his, they got caught on each other. They sat there for almost half and hour trying to untangle each other without hurting each other.

• He’s definitely been called a few different celebrities before, none really looked like him.

“Are you playboi carti?!”

“Bruv.”

over.

“Your that rockstar dude lancey right?”

“bru…”

and over.

“you Opium?”

“I’m starting to feel this is lowkey sterotypical…”

and over again.

• When he’s in the pit at concerts he looks out for the younger people towards the front to make sure they don’t get thrashed around too hard.

“you good young’n?”

“I CANT FEEL MY FACE”

“that’s cool too”

• He only really steals from big corporations, not small family owned places. Just out of respect. Even when they say he can take things for free he still pays, maybe a few dollars over budget.

• He loves collecting trinkets and little things he finds on the streets or backstage. He has multiple spoons, buttons and scrap fabrics laying around

• When he first learned about capitalism he realized it everywhere, like EVERYWHERE. That boy was pissed.

• He loves girls who can beat him tf up, like whoop his ass. Or girls who will cuss him tf out. Sometimes you both will be arguing and he’ll just sit back and let you go off on him.

anyways yawl that’s it lmk if I should drop some more this was fun asl to make 😛

[tabbedtabby]

good luck, babe! | chapter 1

regina george x reader

summary: After the Queen Bee of North Shore makes up rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing room, you decide to take matters into your own hands. You didn’t think that would mean coming to a reluctant agreement with Regina George.

a/n: if you couldn’t tell from the title, this fic is inspired by “good luck, babe!” by chappell roan. if you’ve never heard it, definitely check it out. updates will most likely be weekly. i don’t know how some of y’all have the time to update every day lol. as a general warning for the whole fic, it will contain homophobia, derogatory language, substance abuse, and unhealthy relationships. other than that thank you for reading and i hope you enjoy this first chapter!!

—————————————————————

Entering your third year of high school, you assumed you knew everything there was to know about North Shore.

Well, at least, how to steer clear of infamy. More specifically, Regina George and her shadows that followed her around like a pair of lost dogs. You knew the trouble and attention they brought with them, a constant trail of destruction that was almost as potent as the stench of their perfume. The secret to avoiding it was as simple as straying from the limelight. You kept to your group, stayed quiet, kept your head down. Didn’t do anything wild enough to trigger Regina’s predatory instincts. You couldn’t say you were afraid of her and her group, but honestly, harassment is the last thing you need as North Shore’s token plug. It would be plain stupid to garner more attention to yourself than necessary.

But even with all of that in mind, here you are, sitting in the principal’s office with enough anger in your chest to probably strangle the man sitting in front of you. Because you didn’t even fucking do what you’re being penalized for. But guess who told Mr. Duvall that you were taking pictures of girls changing in gym? Regina George. She could make up whatever she wanted and even the authority figures at this school would treat it like it was the holy grail. You stare at him with venom in your eyes as he explains to you that you will have to be suspended. For something you didn’t even do.

Regina was in your gym class. You had heard around that she was spreading rumors about you being a lesbian, but that’s not new information to literally anyone, so you didn’t especially care. Then people started giving you disgusted looks in the hallways, calling you some really nasty names, and even some of your close female friends started to avoid you. You didn’t know why until about 10 minutes ago. Apparently, you were the last person to know about your supposed photo collection.

When Mr. Duvall finally lets you leave, you feel the rage boil up inside of you before you can stop it. You’re going to get in so much trouble at home, and for what? Because the world’s most spoiled brat decided your reputation was the one to ruin this week? Does she even realize how her rumors can affect people? Obviously not, because she does it all the fucking time.

You’re way late to lunch, but the moment you step into that cafeteria, it’s like a wild dog being released into the ring. You skip on the lunch line and head straight towards the table where you see Karen Shetty and Gretchen Wieners talking with wide eyes to the blonde head of hair with her back to you. Regina. You lock on like a target, not glancing at anything else surrounding you. Your hands are bunched into fists at your sides as the anger rises up in your throat like bile. How dare she? How dare she completely make up this bullshit about you, get you suspended because of it? And why hasn’t anyone actually done something about it?

You see her turn around. Two ice blue eyes look up at you. Disgusted, maybe even a little confused as she sees you approaching her table. Because no one ever dares enter her territory. She thinks she’s above that. She doesn’t look at you more than a second, though, before your hands are ripping her off the bench by the collar of her shirt.

“What the fuck is your problem?” you practically snarl, your arms already dragging her towards the wall as you slam her against it. Your hands still grip the collar of her shirt, your anger almost palpable. You hear what you think to be Gretchen scream. The cafeteria descends into chaos around you. You don’t care. The only thing you’re concerned about is what’s in front of you right now.

Regina doesn’t even look slightly bothered. In fact, she cocks an eyebrow. Her eyes seem to glow with that malice now. Your hands grip the fabric of her shirt even tighter.

“Oh, no, did I hit a nerve?” she laughs, her eyes looking you over with a newfound disgust. Like you’re simply a piece of trash a wild animal found out it could not digest and spit back up. Like you’re beneath her. You hate the woman, but it’s almost impressive how controlled she is in moments like these.

“You’re just proving me right, you know. Just admit you’re the weird freak that everyone knows you are. I can’t stand a closet lesbo.” she sneers, pushing her face close enough to yours that you can feel her breath on your face.

Something in you snaps when she says those words. Because it’s not even true, and you’re the only person who seems to believe that. The anger’s hot in your chest. Its flames seem to carry your arms as you ball your right hand into a fist.

And you punch the Queen Bee of North Shore directly in the eye.

-

Your suspension was extended. Obviously.

You spend the next 2 weeks cleaning the house until your fingers peel and keeping up with your school work on your computer. People are talking about your fight with Regina all over Instagram and Regina’s acting like a total victim about the whole thing. People sending her their condolences and all that bullshit. As if she was dying and didn’t only get one punch to the face before someone pulled you off of her. It was your health teacher from last year; he seemed a little too eager to grab you and pull you off of Regina.

When you return to school, it seems people still believe those rumors about you taking pictures of girls in the changing rooms, because your peers are giving you the same sort of looks as before. They clear away from you when you walk past, but not in the worshipful kind of way they do for Regina. More like they’re disgusted to be around you.

Some people are impressed you stood up to her, though. You’re the first of your time. Janis ‘Imi’ike from your AP Lit class gives you a high five in the morning and you give her a big grin in return.

You see Regina in your gym class after lunch, and she looks as good as new. You’re a little disappointed. You kind of wanted to see her with that bright purple bruise on her eye that you’d seen all over Instagram. But there she was, looking like the perfectly crafted Barbie doll that she always seemed to be. Not even a stand of flawless blonde hair out of place. It made you mad. It’s like you did it all for nothing.

To your surprise, though, Regina ignores you. She doesn’t whisper to her minions while giving you dirty looks from across the room, doesn’t send them after you with a raise of her finger. It’s like you’re invisible to her. Honestly, you prefer it that way. You’re tired enough of this whole situation as it is. It’s a godsend she’s not making it worse today.

Coach Carr takes you all outside since it’s one of the last warm days until fall. You stick your Airpods in and walk the track, still keeping an eye on Regina. It’s not like her to not torment someone who got suspended because of one of her rumors. You don’t trust it at all, but she seems content with pretending you don’t exist. Since Karen and Gretchen aren’t in this class with her, Regina resorts to talking to the girls who aren’t quite Plastic, but are still high enough on the social pyramid for Regina to tolerate. You roll your eyes as they mindlessly follow her lead like a pack of lion cubs.

After a couple of minutes, you get bored and sneak off to the woods surrounding the track. Your coach wasn’t the most attentive person in the world, so it was pretty easy. You needed to smoke or you were going to go insane. You take an Airpod out and grab the cart out of your bra. Have to keep it non-suspicious.

You only plan on taking a few hits since it’s so concentrated and you still have another class after this. You come out here so much that you don’t even think about it. Until you hear a voice behind you.

“Are you smoking weed?”

Your neck nearly snaps when you whip your head around. Your heart sinks back down to your chest from your throat when you see Regina George standing there instead of Coach Carr.

“Jesus, what the fuck?” you immediately respond, your voice wavering a bit as you hadn’t even considered someone had seen you slip out. The weed had just started to hit and you could feel it amplify the fear in your chest, even though Regina wasn’t technically immediate danger. Although, your heart begins to race faster as you realize she will definitely try to get you in deeper shit because of this.

Regina begins to open her mouth before you immediately cut her off. “Before you go and tell everyone on this side of the country, everyone already knows. It’s not gonna do anything to ruin my reputation.” Your voice shakes similarly to your legs out of the pure shock of her finding you. You hate feeling cornered, but after your little tussle with her, you know how badly Regina must want to destroy you. Her eyes stare at you unflinchingly, unaffected by what you said. She looks smug enough to make you nervous. You don’t know if it’s because of the weed or your pounding chest, but it seems like minutes pass before Regina says anything else.

“What about Mr. Duvall? Does he know?” Fuck. You’re not getting out of this, are you? Your mouth begins to dry, the spit thick on your tongue as you think of a response. Your dad was already mad enough at you. You didn’t need this.

“No. But I can’t imagine it’ll go well for you if you tell him. I sell to half the school, including Karen. Everyone will be pissed if I get caught.” you respond, already feeling defeated, but you keep your tone searing. You’re taller than her; hopefully it makes you intimidating enough for her to have mercy. Regina doesn’t respond right away. All she does is raise an eyebrow, a smug smirk on one side of her mouth as you watch her consider her options. She’s flawlessly gorgeous in a way that’s enviable. But you kind of need her to not take away your source of income.

“Look, I smoke behind the baseball field every day after school. I’ll give you some for free if you just keep your damn mouth shut for once.” Your voice is almost pleading now. You wish she wasn’t so dead-set on ruining your life.

Time only gets slower as Regina’s smirk begins to widen. It’s a win-win situation for her, and she knows it.

“Fine. But you better not try to kiss me or anything.” she says slowly, spitting out the words like they’re poisonous.

You feel the relief pool in your stomach as soon as you hear those words. It must be obvious by the look on your face, because Regina laughs at you. She has that angry, disgusted sort of look in her eyes that you can’t quite figure out the reason for. It’s a shame because she’s so beautiful. Your body takes multiple seconds to keep up with your thoughts until a question crosses your mind.

“Did you follow me?” you ask, your voice a little too loud as you see her head turn back around.

“Obviously. I knew you weren’t sneaking off to do anything good,” she shoots back, the repugnant expression back on her face. She curls her lip at you before stalking off back to the track field, blonde hair flowing behind her.

How the hell did she even see you leave? Maybe you weren’t the only one paying attention to what the other was doing after your fight with her. But, why? Did she seriously think you were going to try and swing at her on your first day back?

You guess you’ll find out at 3:00P.M. behind the baseball field.

[fleuraimer]

Overstimulation blurb pls

I love how Harry is so obsessed with her pussy so he keeps on making her cum / squirt but still not getting satisfied despite how overwhelming and teary eyed she got after 5-6 times she orgasms

sorry for the wait bestie 😭 i hope you like it!! 🩷

wc: 665

cw: smut, minors dni, 17+, overstimulation play, baldrry (he's so hot idc idc idc), and more. not proofread.

Harry has been sucking Y/N’s clit for almost two hours now. The only reason she’s consciously aware of that fact is because of his phone, bright blue light illuminating their bedroom ceiling, blurry numbers scribing one hour and fifty-two fucking minutes. His favorite torture device—a sage bullet vibrator that should be criminal for having so many settings—sits, unused, beside her shaky form.

He set a stopwatch. For what reason, she does not know. She honestly doesn’t have the ability to, though. It’s actually kind of hilarious to expect anything from her expect incoherent huffs and puffs, and garbled curses.

But Harry just loves to laugh.

“C’mon, Sweetheart, talk to me; tell Daddy how it feels.” His palms press down on the backs of her thighs, keeping her spread for him—he’s made her smear her messy pussy open for him too, though, for extra measure—her poor clit exposed to every sensation. The AC turning on makes her twitch, let alone Harry’s own hot breath.

“S’g—ood, Daddy,” she gasps, her eyes as puffy and red as her sensitive cunt. “Feels—” She mewls through the rest of her sentence, his tongue back on her button, laving over it, petting softly with the very tip.

It tickles a part of Y/N’s belly that sets the rest of her body on fire. How something so faint, so delicate, can be so utterly disgusting at the same time makes her head spin, in the best way.

Her head falls back on the mattress with a subtle bounce, her chest arching away for the sheets when his lips wrap teasingly her clit, toes wiggling as her feet flail, precious cries involuntarily slipping from her pouty lips.

“H,” she soughs, her hands abandoning post and finding the back of his head, nails scratching through the soft peach fuzz from the nape of his neck to the top of his head. Her head lolls around until her eyes find Harry’s once more, his cheeky, practically delighted smile felt before his slick mouth and pearly teeth (and sinful tongue) register through her vision.

Her brows draw to the center of her forehead as he flattens his tongue against the whole of her, the slippery tip dipping into her weepy opening before working back up to swirl over her swollen button until he feels her twitch, then starting all over again.

He repeats the action enough times for Y/N to lose count, her hearing staticky, vision blurry, thoughts nonexistent. It would explain why she doesn’t notice Harry’s hand falling from the back of her thigh, explain why when he starts fucking his tongue into her neglected hole, she whines at the loss of contact to her clit, fumbling to pull back on the hood with one hand as the other remains petting over his soft, clipped hair, as if to say Don’t forget about your pretty button, Daddy.

Though, forgotten is the last thing her poor overused clit is. It’s probably at the forefront of Harry’s mind, as a matter of fact, if the sudden touch of silicone to her pretty button is anything to go off of. Not to mention, the resounding buzz that quite literally rocks through her entire system.

Her soft cries are no longer soft. They’re loud and whiny, some guttural, but most sad little uh uh uh’s that get slurred through babbled curses. She doesn’t think of how pathetic she might look to Harry right now, she can’t (a fact that she’s wildly grateful for). All she can fucking think about is his tongue stuffed in her drippy pussy and the toy pressed directly on her clit.

She whimpers when he starts moving the vibrator from side to side, pointlessly smearing her arousal and his spit into her throbbing cunt. It fucking hurts.

“Stop with the crocodile tears, Princess,” Harry mumbles into her, scowling at the sight of her wet cheeks. “Cut it out before Daddy gives y’somethin’ to really cry ‘bout.”

He just had all the jokes today, didn’t he?

[zairene]

hey girl i loved your dazai relationship headcanons SM, can I please ask for a version with Chuuya? YOUR WRITING IS LITERALLY AMAZING.

AS A BOYFRIEND. chuuya nakahara

* ˚ ✦ synopsis: how chuuya nakahara would be like as a significant other.

* ˚ ✦ genre: headcanons !

* ˚ ✦ warnings: spoiler free + a fem reader is also very heavily implied / stated !

* ˚ ✦ author’s note: sure you can ! and ty so much that means a lot <333 i did write as y/n still in the ADA, if you don’t mind !

chuuya nakahara, the hot-headed and impulsive young man who you were interested in when you first met him.

he’s very arrogant when it comes to his abilities and his remarkable skills revolving around the port mafia. he may talk a lot of shit, but he can still definitely beat your ass at any time any day, no doubt. and this personality does NOT come off as pleasing to women, hence his failure in the romance department. so, when he realized that you weren’t immediately disgusted with him after knowing him for such a little time, he already developed some appreciation for you.

with chuuya, there is also a lot of patience with him too—but not in the way you would think. chuuya had a difficult time trusting you. chuuya despises dazai, and it’s very well known, and knowing that you were a part of the armed detective agency and was on dazai’s side put him off. yes, even in their years of rivalry and multiple times of working together, he just doesn’t find himself truly trusting him or you.

it’s not like you weren’t trustworthy or showed signs of being dishonest, he just knew that if he became too vulnerable with you, it would open up an opportunity for you to betray him and he doesn’t do well with betrayal. he knows that it’s not impossible to gain his trust, so he respects you at first, but he keeps his distance.

so yes, you have to chase him, he doesn’t chase you.

think of the trope of, she falls first but he falls harder… sort of.

this started with subtle flirting from you, very subtle to the point where it had him going insane on the fact whether or not you were interested in him. it’s not like he could go to someone with advice so he was seriously stressing himself out over it. there were times even when dazai pointed it out but chuuya would brush it off as dazai trying to poke fun at him.

after you did it multiple times, he finally decided he would reciprocate it because it’s not like he didn’t like you, he was just surprised at the fact HE DID? so, the one time he came back with an even risker line with you, you were shocked. this had you excited because you finally had some type of confirmation that he liked you! now the next step, asking him out.

it was hard catching him in his free time with being the port mafia’s strongest martial artist. he was constantly sent out on missions and meetings. just to your luck, you found him strolling the streets one random day, and that encouraged you to just go up to him knowing this moment would not occur again.

this confession was just you talking and him staring at you with his widened eyes and his lips slightly parted. and when you were done speaking, he could only spit out one thing. “yeah… yeah sure.”

and that started your relationship with him!

i honestly don’t believe it would be filled with arguments, at least not real ones. because the PETTY ARGUMENTS you guys have is an hourly occurrence. no joke. the playful banter between the both of you is amazing, but his competitive spirit can get overwhelming and it causes petty arguments. at this point, you kinda just believe that he likes to hear himself talk.

i feel that the biggest problem you would have in a relationship is his major trust issues. mentioned before, he doesn’t do well with shady or shifty behavior. this doesn’t pair well with situations where you want to have a surprise party for him for his birthday, but he’s under the impression that you’re doing something behind his back that isn’t as innocent as it is.

the product of this is arguments and a lot of breaks between you two. he’s not difficult to talk to, but incredibly difficult to get to, if that makes sense. it would take a lot for him to believe that you’re being truthful. you can sense he takes loyalty very seriously, so after the birthday party incident, you took a mental note that surprises don’t sit well with chuuya and to make sure to not do them again.

other than that, your relationship with him is pretty smooth!

however, he also has his moments where he makes weird comments toward you trying to suggest that you’re “inferior” to him and that you can’t handle yourself. he always feels like he has to protect you or things will go downhill even when you have proved countless amount of times that you were extremely capable.

those times when you have to give him a reality check and bring him back down to earth for a second. his apologies are him bringing you a bouquet and a long talk about how sorry he is why he made those comments and how he would never make them again. you forgave him and he really stood by his word! he always gave you credit when it was due, maybe too much sometimes, but you can tell he was sorry.

other than that, some general things would be that he isn’t a big fan of PDA. he doesn’t hate it but doesn’t prefer it. he wouldn’t mind if you just held his hand or kissed him on the cheek (maybe lips) but would much rather save everything else for in private. he’s all for separating his work life from his relationship with you, especially since both of your workplaces are against each other. he’s very awkward when it comes to intimacy, but once you’re together for a while he likes it, especially getting home after a very rough mission that day.

he likes to act like he hates pet names, even the silly ones you give him, but he likes them. he would never admit that you calling him pookie bear makes his heart happy each time.

overall, chuuya is a pretty good guy who has his moments. he can be painfully unaware of himself and his actions sometimes so you have to handle the liberty of telling him off and putting himself in his place when it’s needed. but don’t worry, he never takes it to heart when he realizes he’s wrong. he loves you and as the relationship goes on, he learns to trust you a little more every day.

(📦) — BUNGOU STRAY DOGS TAGLIST // @4nthonyyliving

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[serenefreakgeekao3]

Can we get a Jim Halpert x short!gn!reader who is just enamored with how much Taller Jim is than them. Like sometimes when they’re trying to reach up for something he suddenly just lefts them up so they can grab it, or if someone is bothering them he uses his hight to be intimating, and they just swoon. <3

Summary: Being the shortest person at Dunder Mifflin comes with a lot of problems- one namely being your boss, Michael Scott, who thinks he must be the newest and brightest comedian of their century. Spoiler alert: He’s really not. Warnings: short jokes (beware),  A/N: So i’ve been called short maybe once or twice, but to be completely honest I’m literally at the ‘average’ mark on the scale so i’m just here, existing in neither shortness nor tallness. However, i’ve always heard the ‘short jokes’ are unending so I figured I’d base it on that? Sorry i know they’re annoying, but hopefully Jim’s sweetness makes up for it

“Aha! There they are!” Michael calls out just as you enter, and you feel a deep sense of regret begin billowing into your stomach. “Winner of the shortest person award!” Michael’s laughter was boisterous, making you want to cringe away from him and just make it to your desk. Just make it there, at the very least. You did literally just walk into work, you haven’t even set your briefcase down yet. Michael thankfully jumps away from you, approaching accounting. “I’m surprised you’re not starting a real cat fight Angela, with how Y/N over there stole your special office title!”

“My official title is ‘Accountant,’ Michael,” Angela reminds him in a wary voice, huffing her displeasure at being spoken to. Michael just laughs and begins shrugging his shoulder against Angela’s own as if they shared a common joke. Angela just looks on in disgust as Michael continues on.

“Catfight, get it? ‘Cause you’re the cat lady!” Angela only scoffs and Michael continues his boisterous laugh, turning and making his way back to his office.

“Michael, don’t forget,” Pam calls out behind you as you place your bag onto your desk, the solo desk in the Quality Assurance position at Dunder Mifflin. You turn to watch this interaction, Pam looking frustrated as she shakes a wad of papers at the man. “You have that appointment with corporate in-”

“Don’t tell me what I do and don’t have Pam, god!” Michael pushes the wad of papers away and storms into his office, and you still can’t for the life of you figure out how Michael can switch between emotions so quickly. Your eyes scan the room- mostly the sales department- and wonder about where half of the team had wandered off to. Stanley remained sitting at his desk, but it seemed as if the rest of them had disappeared. You hear a quick ‘Psst!’ and turn to lock eyes with Pam, making your way over at a wave from her.

“Michael came out here before you got here, said something about a massive sale that he needed all of his sales associates to go on.” Pam stage-whispered over to you, and you nod along slowly.

“Ah, that makes sense-”

“So, yeah, that’s where Jim is.”

“Pam-” You start, looking around nervously before skirting around her desk to see her more eye-to-eye without having to stand on your toes. “Shush up! I told you that in confidence!” You watch Pam giggle, placing a hand to her mouth as she does.

“Oh I know,” Pam nods with wide eyes, leaning against her desk faux-casually as she watches you. “Just like Jim told me in confidence that-”

“What’s a couple of short stacks doing back behind this huge desk?” Jim’s voice emanates suddenly from behind you and you jump, turning with wide eyes toward him. He seems to be locking eyes with Pam, who giggles once more with her hand covering her mouth. You couldn’t quite translate Jim’s look to her, but it held some sort of meaning you were sure.

“Oh! Hey Jim! I thought you had that sales thing?” Jim raises an eyebrow toward you, crossing his arms with a smirk.

“I did but then I coughed at Dwight and got out of it. Figured they had enough people as is- but the real question here is: How did you know about the sales call? You weren’t in here when Michael announced it.”

“Watching for me, Jim?” You tease, circling the desk and making your way back to your own. Jim quickly skirted around the desk, following behind you.

“Well, yeah, obviously. You’re so tiny I have to know where you are so I don’t trip over you.” You groan at yet another short joke, rolling your eyes and turning to look at him with an unimpressed look. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

“Pam told me where you- where all the sales associates went.”

“Asking after me, Y/L/N?” You scoff loudly, turning to lean yourself against your desk, crossing your arms up at Jim.

“Pam volunteered the information, thank you very much.” You look up into Jim’s eyes and can’t help but feel shrouded by his form. He takes another step closer, pushing you over slightly to lean against your desk himself, and hunching toward you whether he realized it or not. He acted as a sort of shield from the rest of the office, which some days you definitely felt like you needed.

“And why would Pam do something like that?” Jim’s voice was quieter like he was accounting for the new distance- or lack thereof. You stare into his hazel eyes, swallowing roughly. You couldn’t help but feel safe in the shield of comfort that he provided.

“Perhaps because half of the room’s occupants were not seated at their usual desks, which is a rather odd occurrence for a day at work.” You turn, grabbing a random handful of papers and tapping them on your desk. “Speaking of, isn’t that something you should be doing?” Jim laughs, pushing himself to stand from your desk before turning and saluting at you, walking backwards back to his own desk.

“Touche, Y/N!”

“Watch where you’re going!” You didn’t mean to sound too worried as you called it out, but Jim just chuckled, shrugging toward you.

“Why? I’m already keeping my eye on one safety hazard.”

“Yes, because I’m so short, ha ha.”

Coffee.

That’s what you needed today was coffee. Perhaps multiple cups to get through this shitshow of a day. After Michael’s brilliant start to the day with the short jokes, it seemed he had retired to his room solely to come up with more jokes to torture you with. You weren’t sure why it was your turn to take all of Michael’s attention, but you were ready to throw in the towel and leave early for the day already. You could just start over tomorrow morning, no harm no foul! Except then Michael would cry because he didn’t think you liked his jokes- which you don’t- and then you’d have to deal with consoling him for a solid hour before he eventually yelled that he didn’t need pity, and you would respond that it’s not pity- which it was- and spend another hour consoling him of that as well. You would know- it’s happened before.

And now you didn’t even have Jim around to curb the jokes or turn them into something that was actually funny. After your play-fight with Jim, he was then swiped away by Stanley- who apparently was the last one of the sales associates left only because he had his own sales call to go on. He had begged Jim to tag along, and of course the man agreed considering how nice he is. What wasn’t nice was leaving you alone with Michael when- well, just ever really. So if you look at it that way, it really all was Jim’s fault. Stupid Jim.

You shook your head, waking yourself from your daydream as you stared at the coffee pot, urging it to brew faster. It was already filled with half a pot, and you knew technically you should wait for the full pot to brew before pouring any but you really needed caffeine in your life immediately. You wandered over to the drainer by the sink to grab a cup, then hesitated as you realized there were no cups laying there. There were no dishes at all, actually, indicating someone actually came in here and took the time to put the dishes away. That’d normally be a good and nice thing, aside from the fact that you were too short to reach the cabinets above the counter where the mugs were all stored. Sighing, you turn to look for the step stool you usually keep around. (Technically it was the office’s step stool, but you were the only one that ever had to use it.)

It wasn’t where you left it, over to the side of the counter and next to the table. Looking around the room, you couldn’t spot it still. You checked the bathroom, thinking maybe it was in there- there had been a time or two it was moved in there either for use or for storage- but you couldn’t find it there either. You didn’t bother to check the other bathroom, just huffing to yourself and placing your hands on your hips. Glaring upward at the cabinets above the sink, you will the doors to open and a cup to float down by itself. Then when that didn’t work, you got to work trying to stand on your toes and reach up. The handle to the door was just out of your reach, but you should be able to swipe it open, maybe-

You startled at a large hand intercepting your own, swiping you out of the way and opening the door. You set yourself off of your tip-toes, flat-footed now only to turn and notice Jim pressing you in close to the kitchen counter as he reaches above you. He pulls down a mug- your favourite mug, no less- and places it on the counter beside you. You were able to turn around in place, but Jim only places his hands on the counter to either side of you, blocking you in.

“You should ask for help next time,” Jim whispers down to you, and looking up into his hazel eyes has your heart doing funny things. Maybe it’s the crush you have, maybe you’ve just developed some sort of heart-stuttering problem that you’d need to get checked out, but with Jim’s proximity, you couldn’t really think straight to debate either at the moment. You bit your lip, glancing at your cup and back up to him before finally finding your voice.

“I had that perfectly fine-”

“You couldn’t even reach the door, Y/L/N.”

“Well, I’ll have you know I was trying to get two cups, so,” You were just about to turn when Jim lifted his gaze finally. You felt like you could finally breathe- for the one whole second it took for Jim to lean forward into your space to reach above your head. He pulled down another mug to set on the counter, and you pull in a deep breath full of his scent that only serves to make you dizzier. You lift your gaze to him again, shaking your head. “No, I just meant-”

“What, three cups?”

“Maybe,” You mumble out, turning to face the kitchen counter again. You reach up to try your own hand- you would not be two-upped by him- and it’s an even worse predicament than before. At least with the door handle you had even a chance, and right now you couldn’t even reach to touch the bottom of the cupboard. Attempting to stretch yourself further, already on your tip-toes, you were just about to give up when you felt two large hands grab right under your armpits. They heave you up, and suddenly you’re at a height that you’d never really seen this room at before. Quickly reaching forward, you take two more mugs into your hands before the hands slowly set you back down on your feet.

‘Holy hells, how strong is he?’ You think to yourself, turning to lift your gaze back up to Jim. He was smiling, likely on the verge of laughter, though he had yet to. You could feel your face heating up and knew that blush was lighting up your face. What were you supposed to do now? Jim just picked you up, how do you move on from that?

“Four cups?” Jim questions you as he reaches forward to one of the new ones you had grabbed, taking it from your hand to turn it over in his own. He probably chose to grab that one as it was the one you had seen him use the most often, you figured it might be his favourite. You hoped so at least, considering he was able to grab your favourite after just one try.

“Three,” You admit quietly, turning to watch the last of the coffee brew into the pot, “I grabbed an extra in case you wanted some.” Jim’s head shot up to look at you, and you tilted your head in confusion at the reaction. His eyes were wide, and if you didn’t know any better you would’ve said a slight blush was lighting up his own cheeks now. But why would offering him a cup of coffee make him embarrassed? “That’s only if you want some, of course.”

“I do!” He insisted, placing the cup down and spinning it slowly with one hand, staring at you the entire time. You got a little squirmy, reaching out to heft the large coffee pot and begin pouring it into your three cups. “Did you-” You glance briefly up at Jim- who was biting his lip by the gods is he trying to kill you?- before looking quickly back at your task so as to not spill any coffee. “Did you know this was my favourite cup?”

“Yeah,” You replied easily, watching his fingers stop spinning the cup right as you answer. “That’s why I grabbed that one.” You motion the pot over to his cup, watching him jump slightly before sliding his cup over toward you. You pour the coffee before replacing the pot back where it goes. You begin the process of adding sugar and creamer to the cups, sighing softly.

“So, why three cups? You being generous to someone else out there?”

“Nope,” You pop your mouth on the word, smirking up toward Jim before resuming your objective. “I just figured that the minimum amount of coffee I need to complete this day would be three cups, so I’m planning accordingly.” You hear Jim chuckle, smiling softly to yourself and beginning to add the sugar and creamer to Jim’s own- less than you like in yours, but that’s how he normally took it.

“Is that right? Did something happen that’s exhausting you today?”

“Just Michael and his dumb short jokes.”

“Ah,” Jim breathes out, leaning his hip against the counter and looking over his shoulder toward Michael’s office. “Did he do the old ‘appreciate the little things’ one?”

“Followed by a big hug, yep,” You sigh, taking one of the cups and scalding your mouth to take a drink of it. “Had to practically push him off of me.”

“And the miniature golf one?”

“‘Do you just call it regular golf?’” You repeat Michael’s joke from earlier, deepening your voice to mock him. Sighing, you take another large gulp and wince at the temperature. Jim reaches forward, seemingly unconsciously, and slowly lowers your cup to the counter, pushing it away from you. You wonder if he realized you were burning your tongue on it.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Sounds like a rough day if he’s going all out.”

“Oh, absolutely. He also tried out a new one! ‘Sometimes when I look at short people, I wonder if they’re able to reach their goals!’” You turn at this, huffing out an aggravated breath. You had meant to tell this one as a joke, but just as it had hit you off guard before, it was hitting you again. You tried to keep from tearing up, but really- who wanted to work as Quality Assurance for a paper company? Obviously, you haven’t been able to reach your goals and Michael just unwittingly mocked you for that.

“Hey, hey,” Jim began, reaching an arm out to place against your upper arm, noticing how fragile you suddenly became. “That was uncalled for,” Jim agreed, stepping closer to you to tower over you once more, “I’m sure Michael didn’t mean for it to be that bad, he’s just trying to think up different short puns.” He patted your arm, squeezing it once before continuing, “You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if he had to go to his office to look them up. I bet he didn’t even come up with it on his own.”

You laugh blearily, raising a hand to wipe away a tear that had yet to fall, but almost did. Jim began rubbing your arm up and down, and you lifted your coffee cup once more to take a big gulp. You hear the door to the room open, hoping it wasn’t who you thought it was.

“Oh, there you are!” You hold back a groan at the sound of Michael’s voice, closing your eyes to try and rein in your feelings. “Hey, I have a good one! What do you call it when a short person says goodbye?” You can hear Michael’s excitement behind you, and while normally you’d feel bad for ruining that sort of happiness, you just really weren’t in the mood for it right now. “Y/N, hey! What do you call it when you say goodbye!” He taps on your shoulder, and you finally turn to look at him with your eyebrows raised.

“Michael,” Jim tries to inject, raising a hand between the two of you. Michael, too excited to stop, jumps up and down before he finally bursts out laughing, his words jumbled and almost unrecognizable.

“A microwave! Get it! Micro!” He laughs again, and you try to find any semblance of care to keep this job, anything to get you to smile at Michael and move on like you usually do. That’s when Jim steps in front of you, moving closer to Michael. You gulp, his whole body blocking your boss from you, and you slowly realize that Jim was backing Michael up to the wall, towering over him very specifically.

“What about me, Michael?” Jim takes another step forward, Michael stumbling on a backwards step. “Have any tall jokes for me?”

“But, tall jokes-”

“Michael,” Jim’s voice lowered, and while you couldn’t see his face you could almost hear how serious it must’ve looked. Michael scurries out from next to Jim, hurrying over to the door. He clears his throat, throwing an undisguised fearful look toward Jim before straightening his suit coat and turning to leave the room.

There was something about that- maybe Jim using his height for you or even defending you from someone you were obviously having problems with- that made you suck in a breath. You knew you were blushing before, but your face felt like an inferno now. As Jim turns to look at you with an apprehensive look, you didn’t know what your own face was projecting at this point. All you kept thinking was that scene, Jim towering over Michael and chasing him away. Jim and his big body and big hands and-

A hand was being waved in your face and you jumped, widening your eyes further and drawing your gaze upward to meet with Jim. He was smiling, laughing it seemed, and finally crossed his arms. “I seemed to lose you there for a second, you alright?”

“Yeah- yes, I’m fine.” You could hear the breathless tone to your voice and cursed inwardly, turning to quickly grab your cup of coffee and drain the rest of what was in the cup. Jim raised his eyebrows at this, laughing again as you place your mug into the sink and grab the second one.

“No, but really, are you okay? Michael has some pretty shitty timing.” Timing, right. You were talking to him about something. What were you talking about? You met Jim’s gaze again and took another drink, hoping to buy time. He only laughs, reaching for his own cup and mirroring you, taking his own sip. His eyes dart briefly down to his cup before raising back to you, something in him softening at the taste.

“I’m fine. Really. Thank you for that, by the way.”

“Of course,” Jim answers right away, smiling and holding his mug close to his chest. “If only I had been here the rest of the day, I would’ve been able to help out before it got too bad.”

“You know,” You were surprised you finally were able to find your voice, taking another drink from your coffee just to keep him in suspense. “I’m now wondering if he ran to his office to start looking up tall jokes now.” Jim groaned playfully, rolling his eyes and leaning a hip against the counter. “‘How’s the weather up there?’ And whatnot, you know?”

“Oh, I know, “ Jim insists, causing you to bubble up with laughter once more. “I think his most recent one was, ‘What’s the difference between a clown and a tall person?’” You raise your eyebrows, taking a drink from your coffee. He smirks, continuing on, “Their shoe store.” You huff a smile laugh, shaking your head.

“That’s horrible.”

“I didn’t mind it that much,” Jim replies with a shrug, watching your face. You wonder why you’re being scrutinized so closely, until he finishes his sentence, “I mean, you know what they say about big feet.” You choke on your coffee, turning and coughing away from Jim. Your eyes were wide, running that sentence through your head. You could swear that you’ve never blushed this often in your entire life, and yet your face heats up once more to its familiar warmth and you aren’t sure what you’re supposed to do with your hands. Placing your now empty second mug into the sink, you take hold of your last one and fake salute toward Jim.

“Alright! And with that, I am off!” You hear Jim laughing loudly behind you, shaking your head and pressing the back of your hand to your cheek. You turn and call back into the room, “To do work! Like we’re supposed to be doing!” The door closes on Jim’s laughter, and you hurry to make it back to your desk. No one seems bothered by your commotion aside from Pam, who just looks at you with a smile and a head tilt. You just shake your head in response, finding refuge at your desk.

“So, drinks tonight?”

“Yeah, drinks sound great!”

“Are we going to-”

“Of course!”

“Hey, Y/N!” You turn your head at your name, eyeing the group of coworkers congregating at the glass doors as they all take turns putting on their jackets. It was Phyllis who called your name, and you tried to turn your brain back on enough to pay attention. After all, work is over now, you shouldn’t need to use your brain anymore. That just sounded exhausting.

“Yeah?”

“Are you coming?” At that you tilt your head, and Phyllis smiles at you kindly, “Everyone is going out for drinks.”

“Oh,” You consider it, looking at the group of them before nodding, your smile growing. “Sure! That sounds fun!”

“Nope!” You jump at the loud sound of Michael’s voice, turning to look at him with wide eyes. He approaches you and hunches down to look you in the eye- completely unnecessarily. “You can’t come!” He stands again, holding a hand above your head, “You must be this tall to ride this ride! Sorry, gotta be this tall to have a drink with the lads!” He laughs loudly, turning to usher everyone out of the building. You stand there gaping, then turn to look at Phyllis, who in turn looked horrified.

“Oh, Y/N, that was-” She huffs, “You’re still allowed to come you know.”

“No, that’s okay Phyllis,” You began, sighing and glaring at the back of Michael’s head. “I don’t think I’d have much fun with him around anyway.”

“Well, since you’re free,” You startle again, huffing when you turn around and come face-to-face with Jim. Well, face-to-chest, but you’re not here to make fun of your own height.

“Jim! You scared me.” You playfully glare at him, finishing up packing up your desk. Phyllis, unnoticed, smiled at the two of you before leaving.

“As I was saying,” Jim continues, circling around to stand right next to you. You raise your eyes to him once more, raising an unimpressed eyebrow. When he takes your hand, your eyebrow immediately falls, and you drop your gaze to look at the sight of his fingers mixing with yours. “Since you’re free tonight, maybe we could go get a drink ourselves?” You raise your surprised gaze to Jim, unsure what to say as he finally continues in a lowered and deeper voice, “Just us?”

“Jim,” You begin, his name more of an exhale than really spoken, “What are you- like a date?”

“I know our size difference is so vast,” Jim playfully insists, pulling your hand twice with his own before tangling your fingers together, “But somehow I think we can push past it.”

“So, a-”

“Yes, a date,” Jim clears up with a laugh, reaching his other hand to place against your cheek. “I promise I won’t take you to a giant’s bar.” You laugh, shaking your head.

“I better be able to fit on the stools.” His smile widens, using your hands to pull you in closer.

“Is that a-”

“That’s a yes, yeah,” You agreed easily, attempting to stand on your toes to reach up toward him. Luckily, at the same moment, Jim leaned down and your lips finally met. Jim’s hand slides from your cheek to the back of your head, pulling you in closer and you couldn’t help but melt against him. When your kiss finally breaks and he straightens back up, you pout up at him. He chuckles, shaking his head with a soft look.

“A kiss like that and all I get is a pout? I must be off my game.” You laugh, playfully hitting his chest before huffing.

“Not that, the kiss was amazing. It’s just,” You playfully glare up at him, taking hold of his tie, “You’re too tall. I can’t just surprise you with a kiss, you have to lean all the way down here just for it to happen!” Jim laughs, sliding his head from the back of your head down to your back while you spoke and pulling you in closer.

“Well, that just sounds like quitters talk.”

“You’re on then, Halpert.” So, maybe today wasn’t the worst day.

[unbotheredalwyn]

So obviously after the Joe breakup shit changed we had that ratty twatty and then suddenly travis. Like ratty twatty first of all made it seem like you know this person is like horrible yet you choose to be with him? Everyone called her (rightfully) out I feel like cause he is really a twat of a person and the whole ice spice collab to basically "save" Matty twattys image. I also felt like it was unfair of her fans to force her to break up with him I mean it's her life. And Joe during this time went through so much shit after the break up I remember he was papped and everyone made fun of how skinny he is and how horrible he looks (he had bags under his eyes on the photo) which is actually sad cause he lost his grandmother I think during that time and people were genuinely saying disgusting things and saying mother is looking so much better etc etc while Joe was having a downwards spiral. Again I understand no one knew his depression was that bad but fuck swifties can be more kind.

Exit ratty twatty enter travesty lord this man gives me the ick.

Swifties are blinded by their relationship but he is really not a good dude. I mean that video live of him pushing his coach and yelling? Videos online of him being openly racist, being a trump supporter (and also swifties are dumb they think bc he got vaccinated and bent the knee for black lives matter he is somehow Democrat?) honey trump is vaccinated as well. And just because he supported blm does not make him a good person. He was PAID to do all that performative shit.

I mean she has millions of fans, thousands of young girls thinking the blatant red flags of travesty is hot and shit. Tells me he can push her around too. (not to mention he supported his abusive friend that literally hit his wife.)

And it feels like she's forcing travesty tbh? Like girlie you wanted the art to be about you yet you let some man overshadow it. Because truly that's what's happening like swifties are more into him at this point and the relationship they made up in their head as Taylor.

This is where I got annoyed and took a step back. Each time they were seen Joe got thousands and thousands of hate just for what being introverted?

Then they attacked Emma (Joe's Co worker) for a cheating rumor THEY MADE UP and the shit they said were so genuinely disgusting she had to switch off her comments.

Then Ai audio dropped about Joe abusing Taylor and Ai videos circled making it seem like Joe is a cheater when he is NOT. fuck they even trended a sex scene with that Alison chick he worked with saying he said Alison (her real name) and not her character's name when he DID NOT. It was in the fucking series! This woman got slut shamed so bad she turned off comments too for literally WORKING with Joe. Swifties literally spread shit around that he cheated on Taylor with Emma and Alison when he didn't! And the fucking best of all Taylor was on the set while filming conversations with friends. She most likely saw it IN PERSON and they chose to say all this genuinely disgusting shit about Alison who I've learned is actually a pretty good person.

Here I got genuinely disgusted.

So okay again I understand that Taylor can't control all her fans but her silence while her cult mass harrases people?

Whats insane to me is Joe. Like the guy got so much hate because SHE CHOSE to lead fans on. When she announced ttpd everyone thought the title relates to Joe and Paul mescal

Joe got mass hate

Then the secret songs at eras being about cheating

Joe got death threats

ALL TO BE AN ALBUM ABOUT THE FUCKING SEWER RAT SHE CAN'T GET OVER?!

she literally took ALL the hate against Joe *knowing* she's releasing an album dissing her 6 weeks situationship is genuinely disgusting. I cannot fathom it.

And AND the only thing she could say about Joe is dude did not want to marry her bc he was severely depressed WHICH IS NOT HER PLACE TO TALK ABOUT HIS STRUGGLES?

like I am SORRY this man wants to d word next to her and she just didn't care and wanted to fuck Matty?

Her partner, that got her through her darkest times BTW, did not deserve this.

She let all this mass harrasment just happen to market ttpd. Like genuinely what the actual fuck. 2 innocent women Emma and Alison were attacked and called sluts for genuinely existing and breathing the same air as Joe. And the proof he did not cheat is in her OWN lyrics. (which swifties cannot seem to fucking read bc they'd rather attack Joe than admit this album is about a sewer nazi rat)

The hate Joe got made me cry. The disgusting things they said about him. Swifties literally threatening to bash his head in with a hammer or that he needs to hang himself and they'd enjoy seeing his body swinging from the roof.

Genuinely why would any person say this to anyone at any time?

And they made fun of depression like. What. The. Fuck. Just because Joe might not see it does not mean other people with crippling depression won't.

Oh and a side note she's still bringing up Kim on albums? Not just Kim Kim's CHILD?! leave the kid alone.

Genuinely feel like the most honest Taylor we got was during lover (a time which Joe helped her voice her political opinions and shit) and idk I just feel cheated on?

My whole life I've defended Taylor against everyone and I genuinely feel like she's showing her true colors now being with travesty and ratty and I cannot fathom how this is the same Taylor I'm seeing now as she was like a few years ago.

And it's not just Joe that got death threats BTW. When midnights came out and everyone gave honest reviews cause that evil Jack antonof little gay man ruined the production there were journalists literally getting so much death threats its insane.

Taylor gets (rightfully) called out and fans can't handle it.

She needs to address them ASAP. All these parasocial freaks. The people harrasing Joe. The people literally only seeing Taylor as a breeder for travestys children.

I can't genuinely I can't this is not how I want to feel about Taylor I mean I gave her my youth I looked up to her so much I feel so disappointed in the way she's acting yk?

Yes maybe she can't do jack shit about swifties but she can try.

And her staying quiet over Palestine? Her voice her one post about a ceasefire could change EVERYTHING.

idk at this point I can't stand to be around Taylor.

[batterygarden]

oh no! your big brother's best friend is the only one around to help you put in a tampon 😣.

yuuta x fem & afab reader. 18+ MDNI.

cw: yuuta is his own tw, somewhat taboo dynamics bc he has viewed you as a sibling, graphic period descriptions and blood, um it's sexualized, everyone's adults, reader just hasn't used a tampon before, yuuta masturbating mention, 1.3k words

“I just- I don’t know what to do. She wants us to take pictures in the pool! Like, I can’t avoid it!”

“Um. Maybe one of the other bridesmaids could help?” 

“I’ve barely spoken to any of them! They’d think I’m so dumb, Yuuta!”

Yuuta can only lean against the bathroom door and bite his tongue, completely at a loss. He wonders if even the wisest man alive would know how to navigate this type of thing—his best friend’s grown little sister’s period troubles. 

“‘M sorry.” He says earnestly. 

He hears you sniffle and mumble how it’s not his fault. Then there’s a slam of what’s presumably a cardboard tampon box thrown to the floor. 

“God, these instructions aren't helping at all! It hurts!” 

Yuuta’s pretty sure it’s not supposed to, at least from his experience knowing people who menstruate. Tampons are, like, tiny. He catches himself before he can really pursue the train of thought he starts heading towards—one where he contemplates if you’re a virgin, and if somehow that could make it harder to put in. He has to mentally slap himself; he’s being disgusting. 

“The YouTube video I sent—“ 

“No, yuuta, I swear, my vagina’s just, like. Different from anyone else’s. I need a doctor to do this, not some video.” 

You’re talking through quiet sobs and he’s concerned and he cares about you but Yuuta also can’t help but think you’re being a bit ridiculous. Soon the both of you will be late to your own brother’s wedding. 

“I can’t do this! I'm really and truly starting to freak out, Yuu!”

“Okay, I think—“ 

“Can you just come in and help?” 

The breath is knocked from his lungs.

“Uhh..”

“Please Yuuta there’s no one else who can! We’ll be late!” 

Yuuta purses his lips, checking the time on his phone for maybe the third time in the past minute. 

“Um…” 

“Please, just come in”

Deep exhale. “Alright then, I’m opening the door.” 

When he does, he finds you exactly the way he expected, perched on your toilet with closed legs, your baggy tee barely concealing the space between your thighs—he’s glad to note that your hair and makeup at least seem to already be done and your dress is hung up and ready. He spots the tampon box on the ground in front of you, its contents spilling out on the bathroom tiles. Then his eyes find your hands hovering over your lap, one of them clutching a plastic tampon applicator, both of them with bloody fingertips. 

Yuuta squares his shoulders. 

“So what’s the situation?” 

He’s very consciously only looking at your eyes when he asks, staring too long anywhere else feels rude. 

“This thing is literally tearing up my insides everytime I try to use it—maybe I’m not putting it in the right way.”

“Kay,” Yuuta’s thoughts seem to be moving incredibly slow. “Uh, do you wanna try again and I could, like, read the instructions for you while you do it?” 

You huff, giving a nod. 

“Okay.” He fumbles with the box, sitting next to you on the edge of the bathtub. Another deep breath. 

“Place the tip of the applicator at the vagina opening…” he notices you doing so out of his peripheral. His cheeks could not get any redder. 

“Now slide it in, up to where your fingers are.” 

He notices the way you hold your breath when you try—then you squeal. 

“No, this sucks yuuta! I can’t even do that—I need to angle it perfectly parallel to my tummy so it won’t hurt and I just can’t.” 

He sees you’ve taken out the applicator again. 

“I honestly think you’re making this more complicated than it needs to be, yn.” 

“Well how would you even know?” 

“I mean. I’ve seen a woman put in a tampon before…” 

“The YouTube animation isn’t the same, Yuu!” 

“Uh, well… I meant maki.” 

Yuuta watches as just about every emotion on earth briefly crosses your face. 

“That’s—“ you shake your head. “Why?!” 

Suddenly he wishes he had just kept his credibility to himself. 

“She was my girlfriend at the time, it’s not like it was weird! What I’m trying to say is, you should just relax and not think about it so hard. I think you’re too tense and that’s why you’re getting hurt.” 

You hyperventilate a bit again—hopefully getting it out of your system—before nodding and trying again. This attempt ends in another sob. 

And there Yuuta sits, a foot away beside you, staring at the ceiling and praying to whatever god is out there for this moment to pass. 

“Yuuta—“ you sniffle, “can you do it for me?” 

…

Yuuta sighs a deep, long sigh. He… had an idea that’s where this was headed. And what’s he supposed to do? Leave you hanging right before a huge wedding which you’re both in the party of? While you’re crying and freaking out? 

“…alright, I’ll try.” 

He rolls up his sleeves, then he washes his hands, holding them up like he’s about to perform surgery.  

You offer the tampon. 

Gingerly, he plucks the bloody applicator from your fingers. 

He squats down in front of you then, eyes flicking to your sniffling face while wearing his own similar, very somber, expression. 

“You’re gonna have to open your legs.” 

Slowly, you do. 

And yuuta tries not to be weird about it—he doesn’t know what even constitutes a normal reaction here, but he can’t help but instantly engrave the image of your spread pussy, blood staining its lips and dripping out of it, permanently into his brain. He knows it’s permanent because he doesn’t want it to be. He knows he’ll think about it because he’ll try not to. This is some kind of test from the universe and he is failing. 

He stares for a second, instinctively catching every detail. The way red smears across the plush insides of your thighs, the way you clench yourself automatically under his gaze, the way a red drop oozes from your hole when you do. The shape of your lips leading up to your clit. 

He shakes his head microscopically to clear it, hoping you don’t pick up on his pause. He uses one hand to grip onto a thigh then, holding steady while he brings the applicator to you for the millionth time today. You make a worried noise. 

“Breathe for me?” 

When he hears you exhale, Yuuta eases the applicator in bit, angling it up whatever way feels natural, then he pushes the trigger so the tampon’s inserted. 

You make a surprised gasp, mumbling a little oh my god before sitting up straight. Yuuta knows it’s finally in there correctly. 

His hands are washed and he is out of that room faster than you could say thank you. 

The drive to the event is less awkward than it could be, thanks to the news podcast Yuuta always listens to and an interesting story spurring on conversation. But yuuta can’t stop thinking about it. He’s known you since you were kids—only ever looked at you like a somewhat annoying little sibling—but now his brain keeps reverting to thoughts of your warm little pussy every other minute. When you talk, when you look at him, when you hold his arm walking down the aisle before the bride. When you dance later in the night. And most importantly, when his fist’s around his cock in his hotel room later, turning in early even after one of your pretty cousins kept trying to get inside his pants all night. He might not have turned her down under different circumstances, but he knew he had to when his head kept reverting to you, eyes darting to find you at the reception almost every other minute. Drifting to your body whenever they did…