#sometimes i just can't take it anymore. you know?

[wh1msic4alwasab1]

⋆˚࿔ 𝐃𝐞𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

synopsis: how genshin men would degrade you <3

tags: degrading (obviously) facesitting, mentions of gagging, oral, penetration, explicit

wrd cnt: 800+

a/n: cooking up an hsr version soon

Ayato is always complete and proper in his semantics, he's fair and he loves to praise you.

But tonight...you stretched his patience too thin and his only choice was to stretch your little cunt til you couldn't talk back anymore. "Fuck, you're tight, honey.. this is what you want, isn't it?"

This day was big for Ayato, but you just had to keep pestering him with question after question. Usually, he'd entertain your playfulness but tonight was stressful. So he took it out on you instead. Call it karma?

"Clenching from my vulgarity..what a whore you are." He whispered into your ear, bending you across his desk, while all the guests sat outside having tea while you got fucked hard from behind by Ayato, who put a hand over your mouth, warning you greatly to stay quiet and stop those slutty moans of yours.

"Am I wrong or, did you not hear me? Ayato said lowly, slowly growing more and more annoyed and irritated at your misbehavior.

"Do you need me to gag that mouth of yours, y/n?” Sounding more like a promised threat than a question.

The only way you can get yourself out of this is giving Mr. Kamisato all he asks for and more, and be an obedient girl.

Nothing could really piss off Alhaitham as much as you, but not in the way that's most obvious.

He hated how much you doubted yourself, looked down on yourself, and harbored deep annoyance of the fact you didn't love the things about you he can't get enough of.

Sure, he could give you a little cute pep-talk but, fucking it into you is the approach that'll really make it stick. Some reverse psychology maybe?

After hearing you badmouth yourself for what felt like hours, he's stripping you of all your clothes and sitting you onto the couch armrest, forcing you to look him in the eyes; daring you to say those things again.

"Fucking pathetic is what you are. You're lucky I'm not fucking that stupid shit out of your mouth". He said, grabbing your hips as he sat down, positioning your cunt over him.

Not sure if you should just hover, his large hand lands on your ass, surely leaving a handprint.

"Sit down y/n." Alhaitham groaned, pulling your hips down onto his face and swallowing your clit with his tongue; his eyes never leaving you and your perfect tits.

Wriothesley loved showering you with compliments and nothing but the sweetest of words, but sometimes he just can't hold back all the filthy things he knows you want from him.

Oftentimes he's just worried you're gonna start crying, but fuck is it hot when you do.

"Fuck, I'm gonna ruin your pretty little mouth." He breathes out, watching you kiss up his cock. On your knees and eyes up is his favorite way to gaze at you, and it's just so easy for him to fuck your face.

"Wrio...you said-"

"Sluts don't get to talk." He cuts you off, his brows raised in amusement as he lights up a cigarette and throws the lighter somewhere, taking his cock in one hand to push past your lips as the other keeps the cig inbetween his fingers.

"Open that dirty fucking mouth of yours... can't take it all of a sudden?" He says, shoving it deep into your throat while his hand grips the back of your head, letting you take it at your own pace before he throws his head back and thrusts his hips up as he hears all the sloppy noises, waiting for your glossy eyes to make an appearance.

Now, Childe really tries to be sweet and praiseful, but he loves how disgusting and filthy you can be, and it's even better when he gets to tells you how much he loves it.

Wearing a new outfit wasn't something you expected to lead to something like this.

Definitely not being put in a tight mating press by your lover, pressed into the couch cushions while he left marks all over your neck and collar, biting and sucking places anyone could see to leave no guessing who's you belong to.

"Look at your thighs...they're just spilling out. You look like a filthy slut, do you want me to fuck you like one? Is that it?" He asked, pulling and smacking the material of your stocking that you didn't think too much of, but the minute he saw you walk out in them his cock wanted to spring out and get in between your thighs. But your pussy was an even better spot.

Deep and deeper be thrusted, the springs in the furniture squeaking while your voice almost did the same, cursing and moaning his name while he kept you close. Small protests for him to be quick fell from your lips, urging him so the two of you could get to where you were headed prior to this..."short" break.

"Are you gonna be a good girl or a fucking headache?" He asked, only fucking your harder and slower, a hand finding to squeeze the sides of your neck.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[wheels-of-despair]

Heaven and Hell (Or: Eddie and Evil Woman Do… Prom?!) Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman are *checks notes* going to prom? Like normies?! Contains: A high school prom, two nervous freaks, an ill-fitting wardrobe, an unfortunate zit, dancing, references to other E/EW fics nobody will remember, relentless teasing, a happy ending. Words: 4.5k

"Prom's next month."

You stop playing with Eddie's hair and look down at the head lying in your lap in surprise.

He keeps his eyes on the TV. A blush creeps into his cheeks. Is Eddie Munson seriously thinking about going to prom? You fight a smile and start working your fingers through his hair again.

"Yup… that's what they said on the morning announcements."

Silence. No way he's that interested in the orange juice commercial you've seen ten times today. Eddie Munson is thinking about prom, and he's in the process of chickening out.

"You ever been?" you ask.

"Nah," he says, eyes still on the TV. "You?"

"Nah."

He bites his lip. You can't take it anymore.

"You thinkin' about going?"

He shrugs.

If you were a more patient person, you could poke and prod at him until he finally asked you. However…

"Well, if you were planning on asking me, you're too late."

He finally looks up at you, confusion on his face.

"I've rekindled my romance with Chief Hopper."

A smile spreads across Eddie's face.

"I'm sorry, Eddie," you sigh. "What we had was fun, but you just don't have the stamina. Sometimes a girl just NEEDS full night of porking."

You both snort at the same time, which leads to a fit of giggles.

When you recover, you brush his bangs out of his face. He sighs.

"So, uh…" He licks his lips while he tries to find his words. "If the bacon falls through, would you maybe think about going with me?"

You open your mouth to respond, but he cuts you off. "Because it's kinda my last chance, and I know it's stupid, and it goes against everything I stand for, and it'll probably be miserable, and the music's gonna suck, and you probably have a way better idea of what we could do that night, but… ugh, never mind."

Eddie turns back toward the TV, shaking his head so some of his hair hides his burning face. You gently brush it back behind his ear, looking down at him with all the love in your heart.

"Eddie?"

"Hm."

"You're the only person I'd think about going to prom with."

"Really?" He looks up at you with an uneasy smile.

"Yeah," you answer, tracing the shell of his ear.

"We don't have to."

"I know," you smile. "I want to go with you." He smiles back sleepily. "But if I get Carrie'd, I can't promise I'll spare you."

"Kay," he chuckles.

"Mother?" you ask, hovering in the living room doorway.

"Daughter?" she responds from the couch, without looking up from her book.

You take a deep breath and stare at the floor.

"Ineedapromdress."

"What?"

You sigh and raise your head. "I need a prom dress."

Her book drops to her lap, revealing wide eyes behind her glasses.

"What did you just say to me?"

"I need a prom dress," you repeat with a roll of your eyes.

"Oh my god! I have a child who's voluntarily attending a school function!"

"What's up?" Gareth asks from behind you.

"They're going to the prom!"

You slowly turn and see him looking at you in amusement.

"Shut up," you order before he can even say anything.

"She's even gonna wear a dress!" your mother shrieks.

"Shut up," you repeat, glaring at Gareth's stupid smirky face. "Kay, I'm going to bed, open to shopping suggestions and financial contributions, good night."

You squeeze past him and make a mad dash for your room.

"They're all gonna laugh at you!" Gareth warbles in his best Piper Laurie impression.

"Shut up!" you repeat one last time, then slam your bedroom door.

"He's heeeere," Gareth announces as he passes by your bedroom door.

"You look perfect," your mom assures you.

She's been working on your makeup for fifteen minutes, and it's finally the way she wants it. And you have to admit… you look pretty damn good.

She'd taken you to the city for a day of shopping, and after several hours of hunting, you'd actually found a dress without puffed sleeves, ruffles, or tulle.

"Give me a minute, I want the camera on his face when he sees you," your mom says excitedly.

"Mother, it's a high school prom, it's not our wedding."

"Let me have this!" she whisper-yells. She grabs her camera and leaves the room.

You take one last look at yourself, stand, and slip on your shoes. Heels. You're even wearing fucking heels.

You walk down the hall and turn into the kitchen…

Eddie Munson is wearing a suit.

You'd offered to help him look for one, or find him something in the city, but he said he had it covered. And he did. He's even wearing a tie, and he's tamed his hair somehow. He looks freakishly presentable (for Eddie) and is holding what you imagine is a corsage in a box.

"Hi."

"Hey."

You stand there and stare at each other. Awkward. It's awkward.

"Eddie! Give her the corsage!" Your mom stage-whispers.

He tries to hold it out to you, but fumbles it and drops it on the floor. You both reach down to get it, and you hear a RIIIP tear through the kitchen. You both stand immediately, looking and feeling your outfits.

"Was that you or me?" you ask, trying to feel the back of your dress. You knew this fucker was too tight. But your question is answered when all the blood drains out of Eddie's panicked face.

"Let me see, honey," your mom says gently, putting a hand on his shoulder to turn him. The seam in the back of his jacket has ripped.

"Dude! You Hulked out on prom night," Gareth laughs from his seat at the kitchen table.

You give him a warning shush, and for once, he obeys.

"Slip that off, I'll have it as good as new in no time." Your mom helps Eddie out of his jacket and takes it in the direction of her sewing machine. You carefully retrieve the corsage from the floor and put it on the table.

"Uh… that's for you," he mumbles, the color returning to his face.

"Thank you," you smile, leaving the box closed until your mother can return and witness this sacred and not-at-all stupid prom ritual.

You turn to Eddie and lift a hand to run through his suspiciously tame hair.

"Don't look at it," Eddie mumbles.

"Don't look at what?" you ask.

"His third eye," Gareth supplies helpfully. That's when you notice the zit between his eyes. Eddie's face reddens so much that it almost blends in. Gareth snickers. You pick up a damp kitchen towel, ball it up, and throw it at him. It hits him in the ear.

"Don't you have some place to be?" you ask pointedly.

"Nope," he grins, leaning back and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Mom's taking me to Jeff's after you leave."

You roll your eyes, reach for Eddie's hand, and pull him to your bedroom.

"Sit," you instruct, pointing at your desk. He drops into the chair with a defeated sigh. You start digging through your extremely elegant shoebox full of makeup, then realize what you need. "I'll be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

You return with a cotton ball.

"What's that?"

"Wite-Out. My make-up's too dark for you," you joke.

Eddie's brow furrows, and you apply a dab of peroxide to his unfortunate growth. When it dries, you reach for the concealer.

"What are you doing?" he asks nervously.

"Covering that up."

He sits silently and watches you reach for this and that to cover his bump, and when you stand back and smile, he frowns.

"What's wrong?" you ask. "I can wipe it off if you want, I thought you wanted it gone."

"I feel like a clown," he grumbles.

"You are a clown."

He pouts. You point at the mirror, and he leans over to see his camouflage… and his jaw drops. You lean down until your head is next to his, so you can see what he sees.

"Witchcraft," he whispers.

"You know it, babe," you wink.

"One freshly tailored suit jacket for the young lad," your mom announces as she steps into the room. Eddie stands, and she helps him into it. She brushes her hand along the seam. "Good as new!" she declares. "But no break-dancing tonight." Eddie laughs.

After the official corsage and boutonniere exchange in the kitchen, you're marched into the living room for pictures. Each pose is goofier than the last, but you aren't allowed to leave until your mom finishes off a roll of film.

You both breathe a sigh of relief when the van doors slam shut.

"You still wanna do this, or do you wanna go get blazed and hide out at my place?" Eddie asks, probably about 40% joking.

"What time is it?" you ask. Eddie consults his watch and reads the time back to you. You pretend to consider it for a second, then shake your head. "Chief Hopper is expecting me in 15 minutes, and my little piggy does not like to be kept waiting."

Eddie snorts and starts the engine. Hawkins High Prom 1986 it is.

"Where'd you get your suit?" you ask a few minutes into the surprisingly awkward drive.

"George. The thrift shop guy. Told him I needed something prom-worthy. This was his grandson's. 'He's a lanky thing, just like you,' he said."

"It's nice," you admire.

"It's a little small, but… y'know." Eddie shrugs. "Price was right."

"Is it uncomfortable?"

"It's… a little tight," he admits.

"Baby, you don't have to wear stuff if it makes you uncomfortable."

"It's fine… as long as I don't have to move my arms much."

"Is it the shirt too, or just the jacket?"

"Mostly the jacket, the shirt's got some stretch to it."

"Ditch it."

"Ticket says jacket and tie required."

"Ditch it as soon as they let us in."

"This is why you're the brains of this operation," he mumbles as he pulls into a parking spot.

"Correct," you grin.

"Stay," Eddie orders, hopping down and scrambling around the front of the van to open your door. You're suddenly reminded of your first official date; he'd tried so hard to be someone else, but you didn't want someone else. You wanted Eddie Munson, and you wanted him just the way he was. You take his hand and slide to the ground, wincing as your heels hit the pavement.

"Is your battle armor in here?" you ask, nodding toward the back.

"Of course."

"Fetch."

Eddie smirks and walks toward the back, and you shut your door and follow him. He grabs his leather jacket and patch-filled vest, and hugs the pair to his chest.

You reach for them, and he hands them over. You separate the pair while he watches nervously, like you're separating conjoined twins that he personally gave birth to.

"Lose the child-sized suit jacket," you instruct. He tries, but gets stuck almost immediately. You muffle a laugh and step behind him to help him out of it, then slide his plain leather jacket on.

He looks more comfortable already. And considerably more Eddie-like. You go to transfer his boutonniere to his jacket pocket… but he doesn't have one. A bit of quick thinking and one rip later, his dumb little flower is attached with a strip of duct tape. You step back to admire him.

"There he is," you smile.

"Now he's gotta find his girl," Eddie says, "and then they can go do this damn prom thing."

You look down at your outfit and back at him, but he's already digging… through your overnight bag?

"Eddie, what--"

He cuts you off by slapping the soles of your favorite sneakers on the floor of his van.

"You've been wincing with every damn step since you walked into the kitchen. Lose the shoes."

You grin and sit down to swap your heels for sneakers. Sneakers that Eddie vandalized during a particularly boring assembly. It was one of the reasons why they were your favorites; the boy's a ballpoint artist. The other was--oh, that's nice. You stand comfortably and breathe a sigh of relief.

"You want a little liquid courage?" Eddie asks, shaking a bottle of liquor at you.

"Sure," you answer. You each take a swig in hopes of making your night a little more bearable. Eddie stashes the bottle in the van and slams the back doors shut.

"M'lady," he says, offering an arm. You take it, and walk toward the Hawkins High gym doors. Any time now, alcohol.

A cheerleader-in-training eyes you warily, but takes your tickets and lets you pass by her table into the gym… decked out in streamers and balloons. Wicked classy, Hawkins High.

"And you say I never take you anywhere nice," Eddie grins.

"I have literally, not once, ever said that."

Eddie laughs and takes your hand.

"Munson?!" a voice shrieks.

"Yeah?" he asks uneasily, turning to see Mrs. O'Donnell.

"What are you doing here?"

You look at each other, and back at her.

"Whatever people usually do at prom, I guess?"

"I'll have no shenanigans from you tonight, Munson."

"Wouldn't dream of it, O'Donnell."

"Don't even think about going near that punch bowl," she warns.

"Why, what's in the punch bowl?" he asks. You try to keep a straight face.

"Just punch, and that's the way it's going to stay. Isn't that right, Mr. Munson?"

"Yes, ma'am," he says innocently.

Mrs. O'Donnell looks you both up and down, sucks her teeth in disapproval, and walks away without another word.

"Like I'd waste good liquor on these ungrateful assholes," he mumbles. "Do have an emergency flask in my pocket, by the way."

"Aww, and I thought you were just happy to see me."

"That's in the other pocket," he winks.

"C'mon," you laugh, pulling him to the other side of the gym. Once you're in a quiet spot, you scan the room for familiar faces. You knew you were pretty much on your own - all of the other Hellfire boys were having a movie marathon and sleepover at Jeff's - but you thought you'd look for potential allies anyway.

"There's Nancy Wheeler," you notice.

"And the Elder Byers," Eddie points out.

"I think we're on our own, babe."

"Just how I like it," he grins.

"You gonna dance with me, or just stand here lookin' pretty all night?" you ask.

Eddie responds by flipping his hair over his shoulder dramatically.

"C'mon," you smile, nodding toward the dance floor. He balks.

"This song sucks."

"Every song's gonna suck," you remind him.

"This one sucks more than average."

"Then how 'bout we visit the snack table and lay a curse on the punch while we wait for something that sucks slightly less?"

"This way, m'lady," he says nerdily, holding out his arm. You roll your eyes and take it anyway, working together to assemble a plate full of cheap snacks and two cups of unspiked punch. You retreat to the bleachers and pick at your bounty.

"So… this is a high school dance," he remarks.

"Yup… imagine, some people's entire high school careers revolve around this thing."

"I'd kinda rather be at home," he confesses.

"In our pajamas," you add.

"Watching shitty movies," he continues.

"Eating shittier pizza."

"Maybe fooling around a little?" He waggles his eyebrows and tilts his head toward the door.

"We went through a lot of trouble to get here, Edward. I went shopping. With my mother. You put on a suit. And a tie. And grew a stress zit."

"Shut up," he grumbles, hand instinctively touching the bump between his eyes. You lean in to kiss his cheek.

"Let's give it an hour. You've gotta dance with me at least once."

"Fine," he pouts. You feed him crackers, and he starts to relax a little.

When the opening chords of "Footloose" blare through the speakers, Eddie cringes. The people on the dance floor go wild.

"C'mon," you order, standing up and reaching for his hand.

"No."

"Yes."

"Absolutely not."

"Eddie Munson, you get your spastic ass on this dance floor with your dumb-ass classmates right now."

He whines, and looks… nervous? You sit back down, face full of concern. He scans the crowd, and you look too. Eyes keep darting to you. Not outright staring. Just keeping an eye on you. Like your whereabouts are a matter of public safety. You've been so focused on Eddie, you haven't bothered to pay attention to everyone else.

"It's just…" he starts, and then stops.

"Eddie?" you ask quietly, turning your head back to him. "This is our prom, too." You slide a little closer to him and hold his hand. "And I'm glad I'm here with you."

Eddie leans his forehead against yours and squeezes your hand.

"You think they're upset that we had the nerve to show up?" you smirk.

"Probably ruined their whole night," he grins. "Dear Diary, the freaks crashed prom."

"And ate all the fucking snacks," you laugh.

A flash makes you both jump.

"Sorry," Jonathan Byers smiles apologetically from behind his camera. "You guys were being cute, and Nancy demanded a photo for the yearbook."

"It's cool, man," Eddie grins. "Can we get a copy of that?"

"Sure," Jonathan nods. "They hired a professional photographer for portraits, by the way. Over in the corner. It's included in the ticket price."

"Cool," Eddie says.

"Anddd Nancy's waving me back," Jonathan groans. "You guys have fun tonight. At least some of the freaks should."

You and Eddie both chuckle as Jonathan goes back to Nancy for his next assignment, hearts in his eyes completely undermining his complaints.

"Well…" Eddie puffs his cheeks and blows out a breath of air. He's experienced all that prom has to offer, and is clearly not impressed.

"One picture, one dance, and we're the fuck outta here," you propose.

"Deal," he agrees.

You walk, hand-in-hand, over to the photographer's corner and get in line behind three other couples. Well, two. Kimmy Little sees you standing in line behind her, and drags her date off in the other direction. You and Eddie share a knowing look, but say nothing.

When the time comes, the photographer instructs you to assume the traditional prom photo position, and you do. You let Eddie hold you around the waist and smile like a total fucking jackass for several seconds while you wait for the flash. You and Eddie stumble away with spotty vision and hands tightly clasped. He's your lifeline, and you're not letting him go.

When your vision returns, you look from the bleachers to the exit. Is it really worth walking all the way back over there to sit and be bored, when you could just leave and have this lame night be over with?

Cyndi Lauper's "Time After Time" starts playing through the gym's shitty speakers, and you smile. You're a sucker for this one. Eddie looks at you with dread. He knows what's coming.

Silently, you slip backward into the crowd and pull him with you. He doesn't protest this time. He follows, eyes not leaving yours. The crowd must have parted for you. Perhaps there are advantages to loving the resident freak. You stand close and put his hands where they belong, and then yours. You stare into Eddie Munson's eyes and sway slowly to a song he tolerates, only for you.

You're glad you came. You're glad you're with him. You're glad this is the song you got to dance to. You're glad he made you swap your heels for sneakers.

But mostly, you're glad when the song is over, because you come together for a quick kiss and make a mad dash toward the exit.

"You son of a bitch," Eddie growls, trying to force his suit onto a hanger.

"Leave it, gremlin, I'll do it."

"Thank you," Eddie grins, throwing his suit on the bed and kissing your freshly scrubbed cheek. You'd washed off all your makeup and hair products together, had a little fun in the shower, put on pajamas, and smoked a joint to wind down. You were thrilled to look and feel like yourselves again. "I'm gonna go pop a pizza in the oven. Put something good on, I need to cleanse my poor ears of the top 40 garbage they were subjected to tonight."

"Yes, dear," you deadpan, hanging up your dress as he exits the room.

"Music!" he whines from the hallway.

"FINE!" you yell back. You pop in the first mix tape you find and turn up the volume. You force Eddie's suit on a hanger, put the formal-wear in the hall closet, and join him in the kitchen.

He's sitting on the counter, watching the clock and drinking directly out of a nearly empty two-liter pop bottle.

"You really know how to treat a girl," you smirk.

He burps in response.

You feel like you should roll your eyes or pretend to be annoyed, but you're so in love with this fucker, you find every dumb thing he does to be charming. You lean on the counter next to him, and he hands you the bottle. You take a swig, then pretend it's a microphone.

"I'm here with Eddie Munson of Corroded Coffin, who has just been to his first and last school dance! Tell us, Eddie, how was the Hawkins High prom?" you ask, placing the open bottle by his mouth.

"Sucked dick, thanks for asking!"

"It did not suck dick!" you protest, slamming the bottle on the counter with a slosh.

"It sucked some pretty major dick," he argues.

"You got to spend time with the woman you love! In a formal setting! She wore a damn dress for you!"

"I like her better in pajamas."

"Only because I'm not wearing a bra," you scoff.

"Well… I mean, yeah," he says, hopping off the counter and taking your hands in his. "Don't get me wrong, the dress was great. Have deposited the cleavage situation in the spank bank, so thanks for that. But this is just… better. 'Cause this is us."

When you're right, you're right.

The opening chords of Black Sabbath's "Heaven and Hell" play through Eddie's bedroom speakers, and a wave of appreciation for where you are and who you're with washes over you.

"No bowtie-wearing jocks or frilly little bitches staring at us," you smile, sliding your hands to his shoulders and pulling him close.

"No restrictive clothing," he smirks, letting his eyes linger on your chest as he settles his hands on your waist.

"Eyes are up here, Munson," you remind him as you begin to sway subtly.

He looks up and grins. "Those are pretty okay, too, I guess."

You smack him in the chest, and he laughs.. and then his face falls.

"You tricked me," he accuses.

"How did I trick you?"

"This is our second dance!"

"Yes, but its to our music, so it's counteracting the pop-adjacent one at the actual dance."

"Ugh, fine," he pretends to cave with a roll of his eyes.

You keep dancing until the song starts to pick up, and Eddie looks at you with his eyes full of mischief. He starts moving just a little faster from side to side, swaying with the music as it builds. Before you know it, those spastic moves you tried to coax out of him at prom were coming out in his kitchen. You would have been perfectly satisfied to just watch him dance like a dweeb, but he grabs both of your hands and forces you to join him. You do so happily.

You dance, you spin, and you laugh together in the Munson's kitchen to a mixtape of Eddie's own making. It's the most fun you've had in weeks. Why did you spend so long stressing over prom? Prom was nothing. Prom was a bunch of rich kids in tacky, overpriced clothes that you'd be laughing at in twenty years. This is real. This is what you should be living for.

When the song begins to wind down, you and Eddie are nearly out of breath from all the head-banging and jumping around. The slow dancing resumes without complaint.

"I think this is the Heaven part," you observe.

"Huh?"

"Heaven and Hell," you say, looking up into his beautiful red face. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead. His zit has lessened in intensity after a post-shower application of peroxide. His eyes are big and round and curious. This boy is perfect, and he's all yours. "Prom was Hell. Other people are Hell. This, right here? Me and you? This is the Heaven part."

Eddie's eyes crinkle as he smiles. He pulls you in close and crushes you in a hug. You squeeze him back and breathe in the calming, familiar scent of him. You love this boy more than anything.

"I love you," you mumble into his shoulder.

"I love you too," he responds. "Even if you did make me go to prom."

"This was your idea, fool," you laugh, giving him a backwards shove.

"Not how I remember it," he grins. He laces his fingers and holds them under his chin, bats his eyelashes, and continues in a high-pitched voice that sounds nothing like you: "'Oh Eddie my love, please, won't you take me to prom? It would be the highlight of my life!' Pretty sure you begged. Groveled, even."

"You are insufferable," you laugh, pushing him away from you.

"You're the one who made me go to prom!"

"You know, Munson, according to the pamphlets that everyone's been throwing at me all week, most teenagers have sex on prom night. But I think you're gonna have to get your ass kicked instead. C'mere."

"No!" he yelps, backing into a corner. "Please! I have children!"

"We don't have to share our pizza with them, do we?" you laugh, too lazy to engage in a play-fight with him.

"Pfft. No." He relaxes. "I wouldn't even share with you if I didn't have to."

Your jaw drops.

"I'm kidding!" he insists, coming forward to envelop you in a hug. You go rigid and refuse to hug him back. "I'm kidding. You know I'd save my last Fudge Round for you."

"Oh, really?" you smile, looking up at him.

"Eh… Nutty Buddy, maybe?" He screws up his face in concentration. "Nah. Oatmeal Creme Pie?"

"You are unbelievable," you scoff with a shake of your head.

"You love me anyway."

"Yeah, I guess," you sigh in defeat. "But please don't tell Chief Hopper. It would break his heart."

"Oh my God," Eddie groans, pushing you away and rolling his eyes toward the ceiling.

You cackle, and the oven timer dings.

This is definitely Heaven, but you've still gotta give him a little Hell.

[eggyrocks]

80 with kenma please :3

:3

500 follower special: #80 “How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?”

kenma x gn reader, probably ooc kenma, insecurities, hurt/comfort, very light angst, not proofread written content masterlist

It's easy to love Kenma. It's harder to be loved by him.

They've learned over the years that he's not loud with his love. He shows it in little ways, unrecognizable unless you know him. He can sit with them for hours in complete silence, preferring their quiet company to being alone. He buys them small, frequent gifts, presenting each one to them without much fanfare. He lets them wear his hoodies. He's upfront and direct about his relationship status when interested fans question him about it. Kenma's attentive. Loyal. Dedicated.

But Kenma's not the grand gesture type. He doesn't vocalize his love often. He's not generous with physical touch. He likes to sleep soundly on his own side of the bed. He prefers relaxed nights in to extravagant dates. They know he loves them. He's told them so many times, in his own way.

And most of the time, these things don't really bother them. But sometimes, they start to add up, and even though they don't doubt that Kenma loves them, they start to feel like maybe he doesn't really like them.

It's been a long day. Work was difficult and long and taxing. Little things went wrong, and they added up. Small mistakes at work. Tripping on the train. Cracking their phone case. Kenma not responded to their string of texts. Burning their dinner. Cat puke. A headache. Kenma' silence.

It adds up.

And after they had cleaned up dinner and settled back down on the couch beside Kenma, he didn't acknowledge them. He didn't look up from the game in his hands.

And that was just sort of it for them.

They pulled their knees up into their chest, knotted their hands together, and let the thoughts run wild. Because Kenma's hardly spoken to them all day, and is it really that taxing for him to talk to his partner? Do they just not matter as much to him anymore?

It sort of feeds into itself, this sort of thinking. Sour thoughts spread and they can't stop the flow of emotion that makes their chest tighten and their eyes prick.

They press their face against the tops of their knees, trying to make themselves as small as they feel. And they're so caught up in the cyclical sort of thinking they don't notice when Kenma glances up at them from his game, or how the sight of them like that makes him abandon it at once.

So they don't expect it when his arms go tight around their curled up form, pulling them into his lap. "Tell me what's wrong," he says, voice hushed, not urgent but not uncaring.

All they can offer up in response is a shrug, not quite able to form the words. They focus on holding in their breaths, and keeping their eyes dry.

"Take your time," Kenma says, and does not move. He stays there, still and steady, cheek pressed to the top of their head.

A tear spills, and now they feel so stupid. Because of course he loves them, and they shouldn't be expecting more.

They inhale sharply, and try to steady their breathing before they speak once more. "It's dumb, and I know it's not true, but sometimes I can't help but feel like you don't like me," they admit, rushing through the end of their sentence once their voice starts to waver.

Kenma stills. “How can you think I’m anything but hopelessly in love with you?” he asks, and he doesn't say it with any particular passion or intensity. He's not mad or incensed. It's just a question Kenma doesn't know the answer to.

"I dunno," they mumble. "It doesn't bother me most of the time. But you're not an overly affectionate person, you don't always want to talk, and that's okay, I just," the strop, and exhale through their nose, "get insecure without that, sometimes."

It feels wrong to say it out loud, and when the words leave their tongue they almost wish they could take them back and reshape and rearrange them. Kenma doesn't move for a moment, but once he does, he lifts their hand and uses it to smooth out the top of their. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way," he says. "I can get stuck in my own head sometimes, I don't mean to make you feel neglected."

"It's okay, Kenma," they say, and it already feels like some of the weight's been relieved from their chest.

"No it's not," he's quick to counter. "And you don't have to feel bad for wanting affection from me. Especially when it's something I want to give you."

They sniffle, and lean up against him, head resting on his shoulder. "I love you," they tell him.

"I love you," he says, voice now firmer in the declaration, and he places a kiss on the top of their head. "And I like you a lot, too."

an: THESE ARE TAKING ME FOREVER IM SORRY also this one was bad lmafo im so sorry

[hollowed-theory-hall]

Do you think Snape stopped being a bigot by the time canon rolled around or do you think he still thought of muggleborns as inferior but didn't act on it cause he was always around Dumbledore?

We know his love for Lily won't change anything, Lily herself points out how Snape's completely fine with calling every muggleborn but her a "mudblood" and even participated in bullying them. He sees Lily as an exception so there's no guarantee that even her death would change his views on the rest.

He probably never outright voices it because he's tied himself to Dumbledore, but that doesn't mean he can't still hold those bigoted views deep down.

His treatment and bullying of Hermione doesn't make him look good either. Yes, she's an overzealous know-it-all who annoyed Snape, but I wonder if that was simply it or if his bullying of her was motivated by blood prejudice as well.

As far as I remember, there's nothing in canon that proves Snape is still a bigot, but there's nothing that disproves it either. Thoughts?

Honestly we aren't really told anything about his opinions about muggleborns and muggles during the books. If I had to guess, I'd say his opinions didn't change much. Lily was always an exception, so I don't think her death would change his opinion on muggleborns as a whole.

We see this outlook with Slughorn too:

“Your mother was Muggle-born, of course. Couldn’t believe it when I found out. Thought she must have been pure-blood, she was so good.” “One of my best friends is Muggle-born,” said Harry, “and she’s the best in our year.” “Funny how that sometimes happens, isn’t it?” said Slughorn. “Not really,” said Harry coldly.

(HBP, 70)

He knows some muggleborns are brilliant and talented (like Lily and Hermione) but he considers them exceptions, not the common muggleborn. The perfect special muggleborn. The talented ones he cares about.

I think Snape is a little similar, if for completely different reasons. Slughorn looks down on muggleborns because of how unfamiliar with the muggle world he is. He's a pure-blood who was raised to think muggleborns have lower chances of being talented and exceptional.

Snape, on the other hand, has something very different going on in his head. I think he also has this tendency to look down on muggleborns, and he always had, but not for the same reason as Slughorn. In Snape's case, it comes from his hatred of muggles. Snape hates his father and the circumstances of his upbringing. He probably holds some resentment towards his mother for staying and raising him in a poor and abusive environment. And, it's not like Snape's mother was overly involved in his life either, he was allowed to just run around the streets alone since he was seven (or younger) and that was pretty much it.

Snape associated the muggle world with pain, humiliation, and neglect. And while the Wizarding World wasn't free of pain and humiliation, it was better. The Wizarding World came with magic, the ability to at least have a chance to defend himself, a chance at belonging (we Lucius except Snape into Slytherin easily when he arrives), and pride. Snape is an incredibly talented wizard and he knows it, and takes great pride in it.

So the wizard side of things was always the better one for him. The one he preferred to associate himself with (calling himself the "Half-Blood Prince" is an example of that). And I think his outlook on muggles and muggleborns is still somewhat colored by this even as an adult.

I think it did tone down since his youth, I don't think he's as extreme as he was when he joined the Death Eaters as a teenager, but I think he's still prejudiced against muggles and muggleborns (more muggles than muggleborns though), at least to a degree. I mean, these sorts of outlooks don't just change overnight. So, while I think Snape isn't advocating for muggleborns registration anymore, he still looks down on them and expects less of them, like, a subtler sort of prejudice.

I think Snape's bullying of Hermione is mostly for her know-it-all attitude, being friends with Harry, and being a Gryffindor (a whole different prejudice). But I think there is a little muggleborn prejudice in there too. I don't think it's the main issue he takes with her, but, like I said, it's unlikely he just completely got over it.

And, we see that looking down on muggles and muggleborns is pretty common in the wizarding world as I mentioned with Slughorn and while Dumbledore wouldn't be happy if Snape called muggleborns "mudbloods" he himself is just as prejudiced against muggles. He looks down on them like all of the wizarding world does, in subtler ways than the Death Eaters. So Snape probably wouldn't make an active effort to change his opinions. Even the Weasleys look down on muggles:

“Are they doctors?” he asked Ron quietly. “Doctors?” said Ron, looking startled. “Those Muggle nutters that cut people up? Nah, they’re Healers.”

(OotP, 484)

“Are all your family wizards?” asked Harry, who found Ron just as interesting as Ron found him. “Er — Yes, I think so,” said Ron. “I think Mom’s got a second cousin who’s an accountant, but we never talk about him.”

(PS, 73)

All wizards, even the more muggle-accepting ones are pretty prejudiced, it's that ingrained into their culture. So much so that Hermione stopped talking about her parents even to her friends, the Weasleys' squib cousin is never mentioned, and confounding or obliviating muggles is considered harmless even though we saw it can cause harm even to wizards (Lockheart). The wizarding world is a very prejudiced place even if you don't go around shouting slures. So I think Snape still holds this baseline level of looking down on muggles and muggleborns their whole world seems to practice, but he isn't advocating for their registration and death anymore either.

[graphicpepsi]

euphoria (nsfw, mdni)

OR: what happens when you and König move in together

Sex. lots of it.

Waking up to his hard dick poking your ass from under the sheets. Waking up to him grinding against the mattress, muttering sweet nothings into his pillow. It's sweet.

You're no exception; König can't count the number of times he's woken up to the feeling of your wet folds grinding against his leg, your eyes shut in an innocent sleep; soft little moans escaping from your lips as you desperately hump at his side.

Neither one of you can help it- his scent drives you fucking crazy, does something to you. And if he groans in his sleep? You're done. Wet and bothered for the next few hours until you either fall asleep or wake him up. (He hasn't let you take care of yourself since moving in)

During the day, his hands are always on you. You could be innocently cooking breakfast one moment, and the next be bent over the counter with no panties and his tongue in your pussy. (Why would you cook breakfast when he could just eat you?)

As much as he loves giving you head, König loves to receive it just as much, and now that you live together you can suck his dick practically whenever. If he's writing up reports at his desk, you're underneath it with his cock stuffed deep in your throat. Sometimes you'll even do it while he's on the phone- licking hot stripes up his veiny dick, watching him try to keep his composure.

It's not like either one of you are clingy, either- you're just making up missed time. Who knows how long it'll be before he's back on deployment? At least, that's what you tell yourself when his mouth is buried in your pussy for the fourth time that day. Not like he's complaining or anything, he basically begs you to let him eat you out.

He loves fucking you against the shower wall, too. Loves watching you struggle to balance taking all of him, loves it when he has to hold you so you don't fall. Adores the way your little moans and whines are drowned out under the sound of the water. Loves the sound your wet skin makes when he slaps it under the water, fucking you till it turns cold and you're both shivering against each other.

When you're on your period, he's the sweetest man ever; always bringing you chocolates, ginger ale, warm pads- you name it. He won't think twice before pouring $50 into your comfort.

The first day you're off it? He acts like a man fucking starved.

"Missed this fucking pussy, all mine."

"Good girl, fuck, such a pretty pussy."

and if you were ever up for it, you know this man has towels ready for some period sex.

"I don't care, mein schatz, I kill people for a living-"

"Little blood won't scare me, doe."

He likes fucking you everywhere. In the shower, over the arm of the couch, on the kitchen floor- anywhere he feels like, basically. He once made you grab the railing of your patio for dear life as he fucked you from behind, the cold autumn air making your nipples pierce through your shirt. (The neighbours won't see anything, right?)

And god, if this man doesn't stop putting your stuff on the top shelves because he thinks it's cute watching you reach for them- you might just kill him.

"Need help, mein engel?"

His voice purrs in your ear, hands gripping your waist and holding you down, preventing you from jumping up anymore.

"I don't remember leaving these on the top shelf, Köni," You sigh, leaning into him as a strong arm casually grabs the chips you were reaching for.

"Hm. Weird." He mumbles, pressing open-mouthed kisses on your neck, comforting the bruises he'd left there just last night.

His scent is everywhere- not that you're complaining. He smells like oak, and pine, and the best cologne you've ever smelt but never seen. Definitely helps when he's not home and the only thing you have is a vibrator and his pillowcase.

But besides all the desperate sex, there's also the pleasant domesticity of living with König. Like when he cooks you food, or when you bake him dessert. When he hands you a towel through the bathroom door after you forgot one. You bringing him hot coffee in the early hours of the AM when he's struggling with work.

Him carrying you to bed after you fell asleep watching Netflix on the couch. You sewing up his mask whenever it gets torn or ripped from battle.

You sitting on the bathroom counter, watching him shave intently because you think he looks hot doing it. Him helping you shave, which always, always ends in sex.

Leaving little notes for him about how handsome he is on the bathroom mirror because you know he's struggled with self-image before. Him leaving hickeys on every stretch mark or insecurity of yours he can find. You're just perfect to him.

Worshipping every scar on that man's body; kissing the ones on his jaw and licking the ones on his chest.

God, you're so head over heels for this man.

A/N: when is it my turn to live with zaddy könig😔😔 i want him primally. like actually i wanna **** him till i literally **** *** and *** from taking his ***** **** & my last sight is his massive ****** ******* me ****.

[mcflymemes]

CHALLENGERS (2024) PROMPTS *  assorted dialogue, adjust as necessary.

who says i want somebody to be in love with me?

i don't want to fuck you to prove a point.

fuck me because you want to.

are you gonna do it or not?

tastes even better than it looks.

i just told you i missed you.

i really want to kiss you right now, but i'm worried that if i try, you'll think i'm the worst friend in the world.

you know, it hurts me sometimes how little you believe in yourself.

decimate that little bitch.

let's be honest, you gotta feel bad for the kid.

you're not a spring chicken anymore.

dude. he's a pancake. you're gonna flatten him.

how's this feeling?

we're ready for you.

so obviously this isn't the result you wanted today.

you choked.

i don't want you to embarrass yourself.

i'm just a little rusty. it's a confidence thing.

get your fucking confidence back. i can't do it for you.

i'm so sick of you using this as an excuse to have a fucking meltdown.

you said we could watch a movie.

you're evil.

i'm gonna quiz you on it tomorrow.

sir, i don't know who you are.

i don't think we have much more to talk about.

i haven't spoken to you in five years.

i was just taking a little nap.

move, or i'm calling the cops.

you were really something back then, huh?

we always talked about how amazing it would be to win this together.

i'm a crazy person.

any predictions about how that's going to go?

can you do me a favor? can you not, like... demolish me tomorrow?

shut the fuck up.

if it matters to you so much, i can just give it to you.

i need it to look like i really beat you.

don't guilt me with your dying grandmother.

she's the hottest woman i've ever seen.

you were... fucking incredible.

baby, we've got to get going.

i'm not going to that party.

are you that threatened by me?

we can't both just go in there, dicks swinging.

i'd let her fuck me with a racket.

hey, do you smoke?

of course they will remember you.

see, that's your problem. you think you're like an artist or something.

you just want to win because you love it when people tell you how talented you are.

are you on facebook?

i told you tennis was boring.

you just got this crazy look on your face.

are you on a date?

i don't kiss and tell.

why did you want to have dinner with me?

i think you might be the worst friend in the world.

i didn't know you were so concerned about my feelings.

of course you still have a thing for her.

we just had what i'm assuming is the best sex of our lives.

i fucked your brains out?

what do you think you need? a cheerleader? a fuck buddy? a girlfriend?

you're talented, you're charming, and you've got a big dick.

excuse me for inconveniencing you.

don't expect to sleep here tonight.

stop going easy on me.

i'll be whatever you need me to be. i'll fuck off if you want me to.

i need you here, actually.

you're referring to when i declared my love for you.

you're not in love with me anymore?

i've been dreaming about this for five years.

i'm gonna propose something to you, and it's gonna make you angry. it's gonna make you very angry. but you have to hear me out, okay?

i'm finally ready to listen to you.

how dare you fucking ask me that.

do you think it's cute what you're doing? do you think it's funny?

that's the stupidest fucking thing i've ever heard.

i've always wanted you.

you didn't do anything to me. i did it all to myself.

i think i've reached the limit of my willingness to have this conversation with you.

do you understand how embarrassing it is that you're here?

you've never beaten me.

tell me it doesn't matter.

will you just hold me?

i'm not here to fuck you.

i miss watching you play. you were so beautiful.

[nocturnalazure]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire Tag

A set of 20 questions to get to know your OC!

I was tagged by @bool-prop and I will do Romeo this time. :)

What uncommon/common fear do they have?

Romeo is still traumatized by his father so he will always be scared of being "exposed" (as a fraud, as a gay man or as a pushover).

Do they have any pet peeves?

He is a pretty tolerant and patient person, but he can't stand queue-jumping. That, and weak coffee.

What are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

Novels, vintage posters and shoe polish.

What do they notice first in a person?

If their smile is fake or real.

On a scale of 1 to 10, how high is their pain tolerance?

He's got a pretty high pain tolerance, but he doesn't realize it. Pain he would rate as 5 would actually be 8 for most people. He seriously underestimates his own suffering.

Do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

He is not a fighter. He will fight if he has to, but his first instinct is to run away.

Do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

Loaded question for him. He is an only son and he loves his mom (even if she's "not quite there" sometimes). But his father gave him so many trauma, he's not sure he could be a good father to little Vin. He definitely wants to try though, even if they are not a typical family.

What animal represents them best?

A sheep. In the Chinese Zodiac, 羊 is an animal that shares a lot of common traits with him (mild-mannered and gentle but also wary and anxious). However, it can also be translated as ram or goat... a horned animal. You could say that Romeo has hidden horns.

What is a smell that they dislike?

The cologne his father used to wear. That smell will always be associated with fear.

Have they broken any bones?

Broken leg when he was a kid, and broken ribs because of his father...

How would a stranger likely describe them?

Unassuming and well put together. Seems to think more than he says.

Are they a night owl or a morning bird?

Neither. He just tries to get enough sleep.

What is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

He doesn't like radicchio, and he loves anything with lemon in it.

Do they have any hobbies?

Making limoncello, winetasting and collecting vintage posters. Oh, and cooking!

Boom, surprise birthday party! How do they react to surprises?

He'd be very moved if it comes from people he is close to. No one ever threw him a party or gave him a surprise gift.

Do they like to wear jewelry?

He used to wear a wedding ring but not anymore. As a whole, he doesn't like jewelry, he thinks it's gaudy.

Do they have neat or messy handwriting?

His handwriting is a narrow but legible scrawl.

What are two emotions they feel the most?

Guilt and shame.

Do they have a favorite fabric?

Linen. If only it weren't so easily crumpled!

What kind of accent do they have?

Italian, naturalmente.

Taking the lazy way and not tagging anyone this time.

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

saw ur vents abt dungeon meishi and while I haven’t read the series yet or watched the anime I have seen bits and pieces and already saw the blowup scene where Toshiro attacks Laois and like. even I with zero context didn’t totally hate him. It sucks majorly that it had to happen but like. Toshiro is going through his own shit and plenty of other characters ALSO don’t like Laois! I think people just see that scene and project the amount of times that’s happened to them with someone in real life, which like. I get it. I’m autistic and reading that scene hit like a gut punch bc it was something I had experienced directly in real life: trying to be friends with someone, thinking you are friends, only for them to reveal one day that they couldn’t stand you and hated your guts from day one. You wonder why the fuck they pretended and let you hurt even worse than outright initial rejection. You wonder why they’d put themselves through enduring you. It makes you feel like you can’t trust anyone, makes you feel like utter shit. I 100% get why it bothers people. But you can’t project real life people you experienced onto this character that does not align at all except for this one moment. Also knowing about the author, she probably put that in on purpose as commentary for how autistics in Japan generally have to go through shit like this bc of the way their social culture is. She’s made plenty of autistic commentaries before, I doubt she stuck that scene in there for no good reason. The fact that Toshiro kept quiet and didn’t say anything until he couldn’t take it anymore is VERY indicative to me of the ways Japan’s typical social system is a struggle on all sides. Not to say these are problems unique to Japan, but the nuance needs to be understood. Toshiro isn’t being a dick just for the sake of it. I want to read it sometime so I can better understand the guy, but I don’t want to hate him based on one scene where he was an asshole. Laois is an asshole plenty of times himself, being very overtly written as autistic doesn’t absolve him from the responsibilities of being an adult.

TLDR: People tend to infantilize Laois and demonize Toshiro, which comes down to the prejudices preconceived for both of them: people see Laois, as an autistic man, as an innocent sweet guy who needs to be protected. They see Toshiro, as an Asian man, as someone who should be “polite and honorable” or whatever and are appalled when he acts like a fallible human being and not some appropriation of a fictional romanticized samurai. I understand feeling betrayed and angry seeing a character be a genuine asshole about something (social expectation does not completely absolve Toshiro of his own antagonizations however much of a reason he had) but when it’s so damn one sided, and especially in a series where almost NO one is without complete asshole qualities that round them out, I find it kind of gross that people hate on him for that. Anyway. Just wanted to send a message of support and understanding. Hopefully after I read more I can offer more analysis to corroborate with you on.

100% CORRECT thank you anon

i also understand the people who are sympathizing with laios bc that scene is very easy to relate to for many autistic or otherwise neurodivergent people (i also got a cold sweat when i was watching it bc. like. having someone you thought was a friend straight up tell you there are parts of your behavior that they can't stand is one of the worst things to experience of all time, ESPECIALLY if you were only showing that behavior around them bc you thought they were your friend and you trusted them) but it's so frustrating seeing so many people have such shallow opinions about toshiro bc of it. im on hands and knees begging people to consider the characters in three dimensions and/or develop better reading comprehension because like!! toshiro's official meeting with laios's new group literally leads with 'oh his name is actually toshiro and we never knew bc our leader had a misunderstanding and microaggressed him and he was too polite to correct him' laios is not an innocent party here!! he is not an innocent uwu autistic baby he's a grown adult man with responsibilities, in that whole time he was partied with toshiro he never learned his real name!! plus using toshiro's crush on falin as a reason to hate him, falin's adolescence was spent in a school and a social setting where she was expected to mask + her being a girl also means she is expected to mask by default -> she is better at masking than laios so why are people saying that toshiro hates laios for the same traits in falin bc clearly not?? also saw one person saying 'he only likes falin because she's hot' NO HE DOES NOT HE WOULD NOT RISK HIS LIFE HEALTH AND RETAINERS IN A DUNGEON ON A FOREIGN CONTINENT FOR THE SAKE OF A WOMAN HE ONLY THOUGHT WAS SEXY!!! PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE DUNMESHI FANS THINK WITH YOUR BRAAIN

the whole fight he had with laios where laios points out that their party is more serious about finding falin and resolving everything also drives me nuts because i've seen at least one take saying that toshiro doesn't care about falin as much as team laios because of this. which yes the fact that team laios understands the importance of health in pursuit of a goal is very very important but for many cases in east asian culture (and actually any culture with emphasis on capitalism and economic growth) productivity will get valued above all else which leads to neglect of personal health, i.e: what toshiro was doing. so this is just a clown take to begin with

also interesting to me that almost every character in dunmeshi thus far has demonstrated some kind of racial bias/misconceptions (i.e: chilchuck about elves, senshi about half-foots, etcetera etcetera) and laios and falin are no exception. race and racial differences and conflict and coexistence is also one of the underlying themes in dungeon meshi, with the elves of the west being considered a major issue to many dungeon-goers and the mayor hating dwarves and having to contend with those elves, and then marcille's motive for studying black magic and even thistle's motive for being the dungeon keeper. so it's real fucking ironic that the fans are really quick and happy to demote toshiro to 'asshole side character who is bullying our autistic rep' instead of, you know, using nuance and thinking about it

tldr; dungeon meshi has great commentary on what it's like as an autistic person in society. but dungeon meshi fans are too quick to write off toshiro as an asshole japanese guy who is ableist and getting in the way of their white woman yuri, therefore helping to promote this website's enduring legacy as the piss-poor reading comprehension website

[shhh-secret-time]

Star Park AU: Kyle Broflovski Edition

-> Moved back to the Valley after graduating and getting his doctorate. (He's essentially where Harvey is in game.)

-> Couldn't find work out i the city so he moved back to the Valley

-> His parents stayed in the city but they allowed Ike to move back with Kyle as long as he agreed to take good care of him.

-> He has files on everyone's medical history and they're organized based on who's the easiest patient to deal with to who he has to literally drag in to his office. It goes: Karen, Wendy and Nichole, Kenny, Craig, Heidi, Tolkien and Scott, Butters, Ike and Jimmy, Tweek, Sharon, Shelly, Bebe, Stan, Clyde, All of the Goths, Randy, and finally Cartman.

-> He makes monthly walks to the Wizard tower to check on the Goths. They've told him before they don't need it because they have magic but he doesn't believe them.

-> Kyle and Wendy work hard to make things easier for Jimmy around town. The mayor fights them over the funding. Wendy has to practically drag Kyle away from fighting the mayor.

-> He's the only person that Scott trusts with his meds, always making sure to pick his medication up.

-> When he's not working he checks in with Heidi over Ike's education, sometimes he sits in and helps out when he can.

Gift Guide:

Loves: Fire Opal, Pomegrantes, Poppy, Starfruit Wine, Artichoke Dip Likes: All Books, Emerald, Coffee, Magma Cap, Tea leaves Neutral: All Fish (Except Shrimp), Beer, All Eggs Dislikes: Radioactive Ore/Bar, Fertilizer, Escargot, Mudstone Hates: Bananas, Banana Pudding, Shrimp, Bug Meat, Roe (Any)

Loved: "A..Are you serious?! Thank you so much!" Liked: "You thought of me? That's very kind, thank you." Neutral: "Thank...you? It's the thought that counts." Dislikes: "Ugh. I don't want your trash." Hates: "Really? What went through your head when giving me this? God...."

Heart Event @ 2:

Kyle is outside with his brother, one of the rare times he's free from working. He's sitting on the bench at the park reading through his medical files. Ike is playing by himself looking a little lonely. Farmer walks up and sees him sadly rocking on the spring rider. Ike tells the Farmer that he misses playing with his brother, it just seems like he never has time for him anymore. Farmer thinks for a moment before walking over to Kyle, who only notices them when they sit down. He greets them with a smile, quickly going back to his reading. >> Do you ever take a break? How can you be on your laptop right now? It's so nice out! (-) >> Ike looks a little sad, doesn't he? (+) If First Option: Kyle gets slightly annoyed, Farmer should know better than anyone here that he can't just stop working. He notes rather dryly he would have thought he'd be free of their lecturing, seeing as he gets enough of it from Stan.

"I appreciate your concern really, but I'm this towns only doctor last time I checked. I happen to like reading outside."

If Second Option: Kyle looks up from his laptop with concern on his face. He frowns when he realizes that he's been ignoring his brother, and how Ike is rocking back and forth with no care. Turning to the Farmer, he expresses gratitude for bringing it to his attention. He feels back for not seeing it himself, he was just hoping to catch up a little on work before he went home. He closes his laptop, putting it to the side, and stands up. Farmer jumps up with them and offers to play with him and his brother!

"Then I hope you're ready for the longest game of hide-n-seek of your life. You didn't have anything planned for the rest of the day right?"

Heart Event @ 4:

Kyle visits the Farmer early in the morning, greeting them while they're walking to the shipping bin. He apologizes for showing up unannounced. He would have called but he didn't think the Farmer would be able to hear the phone from the fields. Farmer doesn't seem to mind which makes him feel better, physically relaxing. Looking past them, he compliments their hard work on turning the fields into an actual farm. Afterwards he goes on to tell them that their crops have made things better even if they don't realize it. Tells them that the fresh food is better for the townsfolk than Jojo's food. >> I don't actually do that much farming. I'm more into fishing or mining. (/) >> Thanks Kyle! It's nice to get a little appreciation! (/) >> I didn't think of it that way...you really think of everything huh? (/) If First Option: Kyle goes quiet, the longer the silence the more his face turns red. Embarrassment dusting his cheeks. Under his breath he says something about the farm at least looking clean.

"At least your farm looks cleaner then Mr. Marsh's. Smells better too."

If Second Option: Kyle chuckles and tells them there's no reason to thank them! He's in the same boat sometimes and that even now he's here's to do his job. He wonders if anyone else has been out this way yet?

"I just realized you haven't had a checkup with me yet. Swing by the clinic okay? I don't want you to get sick."

If Third Option: Farmer turns the table on them, Kyle gets flustered over the small praise. At least he takes it as praise. He scoffs, telling them to stop being so humble. Being a Farmer is hard work and they should realize the good they do.

"Please. Not just anyone can get Cartman to eat a vegetable. You're good at what you do!"

Heart Event @ 5:

Next time Farmer walks into the clinic they walk back into Kyle's office. He's surprised to actually see them, telling them that he is pleased that he didn't have to drag them in. When Farmer looks at him confused, Kyle tells them that sometimes he has to go and "collect" some of the townsfolk for their appointments. So, it's nice that there's someone else so willing to come in. After a moment he gets a little embarrassed that he started rambling again. Farmer is just easy to talk to, they listen. Before they can comment on the blush on his face, he gets down to business. Kyle opens his laptop and looks up at them, he begins to ask Farmer about themselves, wanting an insight on their medical history.

"Sorry, you didn't come here to listen to me complain. It's just easy to talk to you. A-anyway, before I keep making an ass of myself, lets get started on filling out your medical history!"

Heart Event @ 6:

Farmer is walking from town to the mountains, they can hear faint shouting. Walking closer, they see Kyle and Ike standing next to the mountain lake away from Kenny's house. Ike is sitting on the wooden bridge with his face in his hands, looking more and more upset. When Farmer gets close enough to hear what they're saying clearly, they overhear what the argument is about. Kyle is upset that Ike's grades are slipping, telling him that he needs to put in a little more effort in school. Apparently, he's been blowing off his homework and Heidi is having a hard time getting him to pay attention in class. Ike complains that all Kyle ever talks to him about is how he's doing in school and his stupid job, that he doesn't care to ask Ike about anything else. He asks him when was the last time they did anything fun that didn't require the Farmer having to all but pull him away from work. Ike cuts Kyle off before he can rebuttal. Shouting something about how he's acting just like their mother and he's supposed to be his brother, not his parent! Kyle gets upset and snaps back at him, telling him that he won't apologize for caring about Ike's well being and he wouldn't have to act like their mother if Ike just grew up a little. This makes Ike tear up, he stands up and shouts that he should just go back to the city then. Kyle stands there watching his brother storm off, leaving him alone next to the lake, he looks destroyed. Farmer walks out from where they were hiding, and when Kyle doesn't get upset that Farmer was listening in they know he's really torn up. It takes him some time but he eventually address them, telling them that he never meant to fill the role of a parent. He knows he's hard on Ike, he just wants to see his little brother grow into the best version of himself. The Valley is good to him, better then the city was. He knows it's good for Ike too.

"Am I being that overbearing? I mean...I'm in charge of him. I promised Ma that I'd look after him! I'm not asking for much right? Just for him to apply himself more!"

>> Maybe you're not as right as you think you are. (-) >> Does he know that? Have you told him how you feel? (+) >> I don't think you're really listening to your brother. (+) >> Lighten up Kyle, he's just throwing a tantrum. He'll get over it. (-) If First Option: Kyle looks up with a flash of anger in his eyes, he can't believe what he's hearing. How could Farmer say something like that? He thought they were friends! As Kyle storms off he glares at them.

"Jesus Christ, if you talk to your friends like this then I'd hate to hear how you talk to people you hate!"

If Second Option: Kyle thinks on both Farmer and Ike's words. Like he's replaying the whole thing in his head again. When was the last time he talked to Ike about how he feels? About anything that wasn't him being a hard ass.

"No...I guess I haven't. Ugh I'm an asshole, he deserves to be a kid. I really do sound like our mom. Thanks for listening again Farmer."

If Third Option: Kyle's brows furrow, he wants to be upset but Farmer's right. He makes his frustration known and somehow in the same breath is grateful that Farmer said it. He tells Farmer that this isn't the first time their stubborn attitudes have clashed. Something they both get from their Mother.

"I think if you were anyone else I would be furious but...you're right. It does make me feel a little better to know I'm not the only one who's stubborn. I'll apologize to him in the morning. Goodnight and thank you Farmer."

If Fourth Option: Kyle snaps as that comment strikes a nerve. He goes to yell again but he just stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath. When he opens his eyes he looks past them and wishes them a good night. Leaving them alone because just the thought of responding to that is exhausting.

Heart Event @ 8:

It's late, later than Farmer realized. As they go to leave the mines, a group of Shadow beasts corner them. It cuts to them limping out of the mines. Beaten down and exhausted, they collapse against the side of the mountain. The last thing they see is Kyle running over to them and the dim light of a flashlight. When they wake up again, they're laying in one of the beds of Kyle's clinic. Their wounds are bandaged and cleaned. Looking over in a daze, Kyle's eyes meet theirs and there's a look of relief. He closes the first aid kid sitting next to them, picks up the medical tools and puts them away. Farmer can hear him breathing deeply, like this is the first time he's able to. Eventually he breaks the silence, speaking as softly as he can. He scolds them for being reckless, and that they're lucky that Ned was nearby to hear that fight. Kyle stops in the middle of his lecture, catching himself doing it again. Lectures are the last thing Farmer needs right now, they need sleep. Farmer just smiles and shakes their head at him and it almost makes Kyle laugh. He can't believe the energy they have, how they're even awake right now. He promises to keep them company, that he'll be right here for them when they wake up. Time passes again as Farmer drifts back to sleep, when they wake up again they see Kyle asleep in the chair next to them.

"Do you have any idea how worried I was?! Seeing you bleeding out in the dirt like that! I know you can be more responsible then that, what were you-.... no I'm doing it again. I'm sorry. Look just get some sleep, you need to rest." - "What? I'm not going anywhere, someone has to look over you and make sure you actually get rest. I swear I'll turn my back and you'll try and get out of that bed."

When given the bouquet:

"!! Y-You're not fucking with me right? This isn't just some cruel prank? ...Then of course I will- be your partner that is!"

Heart Event @ 10:

Farmer walks outside of their house to Kyle sitting on their porch. A picnic basket sitting next to him, a bottle of wine sticking out of the basket, and a red-checkered blanket tucked neatly inside. When he hears the doo open he perks up and stands up quickly. With a grin on his face, he greets them with an energetic good morning. He holds up the basket telling them that he wants to take them out. The day is beautiful and he intends to spend as much of it with them. Farmer agrees, leaving the farm going south past Tegridy Farms. Kyle takes them near the cliffs overlooking the ocean. The two sit there enjoying the picnic that Kyle's put together. When he sees how happy Farmer is with the food, he goes on to tell them that he learned how to cook from his Mother. The conversation leads him to ramble about how he was the only one who could cook in the friend group for a while. That Stan used to beg him to make dinner so he didn't have to eat with his family. Farmer continues to just look happy with everything. Good food and getting to listen to him talk about his best friend, watching as he lights up! Then they feel a rain drop hit their forehead. Looking up, the two se as the sky starts to darken and rain clouds begin to roll in. Immediately Kyle throws his jacket over the Farmer and urgently moves them towards the trees. As the rain starts to come down harder, Kyle looks so disappointed. Farmer takes their hand giving it a little squeeze, breaking down that wall of anxiety. He lets out a sigh, expressing his frustration. He tells them that he wanted today to be perfect, now it's ruined because of the rain. Farmer laughs and pulls them down, planting a kiss on their cheek. Kyle's face turns red from the sweet action. He goes to kiss them back, to return the kiss, but as he does water drops down from the top of the trees. They're both soaked now, water clinging to their clothes. Kyle looks down and just laughs. He wraps an arm around them and pulls them in for a kiss. Pulling away, he brushes his fingers across their face and whispers.

"You always find a way to make things better. I don't feel like I have to be perfect all the time, that it's okay to mess up because I know you'll still love me. My worries just seem to melt away. I love you so much."

Heart Event @ 14:

Ever since Kyle moved in he's slowed down, taking better care of himself. No longer piling too much on his plate, so it surprises the Farmer to se him falling back into old habits. Kyle is pacing around the house in a huff. Ike tells the Farmer that their parents called and that they're making a surprise visit soon. Kyle stops his frantic cleaning for just a moment to stress how much he hates this. He's worried that they're going to be mad because he didn't invite them to the wedding, even when they already reassured him that they're not. Farmer questions why they're coming, which Kyle just sighs and tells them that they want to meet his partner. Farmer reassures Kyle that everything will be fine, that they can't wait to meet his parents. He just grumbles and tells them to hold off on that excitement. Once again Farmer calms the man down, Kyle takes a deep breath and watches his beloved partner get to work. Between the two of them and Ike, they're able to get everything together. Just as dinner is finished, Kyle's parents arrive. Kyle introduces the Farmer to his parents who immediately start gushing over them. The dinner table is set and soon the entire family is sitting around the, making small talk. Sheila starts asking Farmer a list of questions, trying to get to know them. Why did they become a Farmer? What drew them to the Valley? >> Honestly? I needed to start over. Grandpa gave me a second chance and I guess I just fell in love with this little town. >> The city life was too loud. I needed something quiet and easy. >> The Valley needed help! I couldn't just ignore it! If First Option: Sheila smiles and puts her hand on her chest. She tells the Farmer that it's incredibly sweet of their grandfather to look after them. She thinks it's great that they love the town that Kyle grew up in! If Second Option: Sheila doesn't agree that the city is that bad, but she goes on to tell the Farmer she grew up a city girl. She does agree that city life can sweep you away if you're not careful, she's glad the Farmer taught Kyle to slow down. If Third Option: Sheila isn't quite sure she understands what Farmer is trying to get at, but if it's what drives them then who is she to argue? She's just happy that Ike's grades have improved and that Kyle is happy. Either way dinner is lively, once they're finished they thank the Farmer for everything. For taking care of their sons and welcoming them into their lovely home. Sheila admits that she was skeptical at first but after seeing how Kyle looks at the Farmer, she's wholeheartedly approves of their marriage. They leave with a quick hug, letting Kyle know that they'll be staying at the tavern for a few days before going home. As they make the trip back to town, Kyle wraps his arm around the Farmer and smiles softly.

"They really like you, not that I had any doubts they wouldn't. You're amazing. I always knew you were, ever since you moved to this town. I'm just glad they love you almost as much as I do."

Random Marriage Quotes!!

"Good morning my love. Yeah... that still feels weird to say but...I kind of like it. Waking up next to you is everything." "Please make sure you're being careful when you go out. I'm not going to stop you, just come home to me. Please." "Look I love you, but please if you have to go to the mines...shower before you come to bed. Shower with you? That-...isn't a bad idea." "Read up on how to take care of crops on my lunch break! I hope you don't mind that I already watered the plants for you!" "Ike really likes all the animals, he actually woke up before to feed them all!" "Do...do you think my hair is stupid? Cartman said something about it today and I know I shouldn't put merit in what he says but...You like my hair? And my nose? But I didn't- God you're too good to me." "I always had this fear of getting married, I was afraid that I'd end up like my parents. They're not bad just...never mind. Just thank you for being my partner." "Hey, take this medicine with you. If you get into trouble it will help. I don't care if it tastes bad! I don't want to find you passed out again!" "I'm taking Ike over to Kenny's today, he wants to hang out with Karen. Feel free to swing by when you're done doing what you need to do! The guys would love to see you." "You know I love you right? And I'll tell you it as many times as you need. You make it so easy to love you that I'm worried I'm not enough."

Tag List: @hunnysnoops

[k-atsukibakugou]

congrats on two years!! what an amazing milestone to hit! 💕 i feel so lucky that i'm here and caught this!

if it's alright with you, i'd like to order one bloody mary (my fav) + one bakugo please. can't wait to see where this drink takes me 🙂‍↕️

bunny!!! thank u so much! n ty for being here my love! i hope you like your cocktail ehehehe birthday bash intro + rules + menu | event masterlist

a bloody mary, a classic, and the bartenders personal favourite, his speciality, the process second nature to him after years behind the bar; his muscles moving on their own accord to chop the celery, slice a lemon and pour the vodka, juice and sauce. he hardly even measured anymore, the recipe was something he could do in his sleep, he could probably rake in tips doing his pours blindfolded, they were always perfect anyway, he wouldn’t have a thing to worry about.

they’d even started making it a special the nights he worked the bar, but sometimes he needed a break from the monotony of it all, of pouring, of shaking, of measuring, of chopping, of straining. sometimes he just needed a pretty distraction.

“can i get a bloody mary please?” the moment you handed him the token for your free drink, bakugou knew you’d be the perfect choice for his game, so gorgeous, all done up to dance with your friends, your dress a little short and your shoes a little high, you even wobbled a little on your way up to the bar.

“sure you can handle it? we have margarita’s as well,” his eyes rake over you, his tone playful enough, poking fun even as he leans closer, resting his forearms on the dark wood. you stare up at him, distracted momentarily from fiddling with the strap of your shoe, meeting his vermilion eyes, a wicked twinkle shining nearly as much as his pointed canines, his lips pulled back into an easy, confident smirk, “i like bloody mary’s, thank you very much.”

you can’t help the attitude sneaking into your tone; first you wait in line for nearly an hour, your shoes are already hurting your feet, and now the bartender can’t even make you the drink you want? what kind of night did your friends rope you into?

bakugou tries not to let it show how your attitude makes his hips jump, how his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his skull at how you spoke to him, this game was always more fun with brats; getting to watch the attitude melt the wetter he got you, he wouldn’t even have to fuck you to leave your brain blank. nodding, he tried not to let his mind wander too far making your drink, the routine doing nothing to distract him of the thought of you under him, only able to spit out his name.

the chopping, squeezing, measuring and pouring happened before the bass dropped on the song blasting out of the speakers surrounding the bar, the only break in his routine when he got to the tabasco sauce. spinning on his heel to face you once more, he talks again in that infuriatingly seductive voice, “how much can you take, sweetheart?”

if your drink had been ready, you’d have choked on it, the gravelly tone of his voice making your heart spike and your legs wobble, even with the strap of your shoe fixed, “i’m sorry?”

“i’m just askin’ how much heat you can handle, baby,” the expression on his face is anything but innocent, holding the neck of the tabasco bottle between two thick fingers, shaking it gently for emphasis when you stared back at him. with a hot face, your eyes drop to the diamond label, a bloom of embarrassment burning low in your stomach. you were too sober for this kinda flirting.

“oh,” your voice is hardly a squeak, nodding rapidly for him to shake the bottle over the glass again, stirring the glass as he dashed more in,”when.”

“that much? that’s how hot you like it, huh?” he steps closer, impossibly lowering his voice, “c’mon, i know you can take more than that.”

your heart pounds against your chest, your thighs subtly clenching together at the sound of his husky voice, the dirty line making your mind wander further toward the gutter.

“tell me, baby, you want it?” your drink is forgotten underneath the counter, your only focus on the plump of his bottom lip, on the thin chain dangling around his throat, “you want it hot?”

you feel like you need to pinch yourself, surely this is a dream, you didn’t even know this bartenders name—”bakugou! you done with this?”

his eyes don’t falter from yours for a moment, humming deeply in response, “yeah, one second.”

still armed with that lethal smile, he garnishes your cocktail, displaying the neatly chopped celery, two slices of lemon and a couple of leaves of basil beside your straw, the final touches to his speciality. flipping over a napkin, he sits your finished drink atop it, you’re almost certain the drink isn’t as hot as you are right now, your body burning and buzzing without so much as smelling the savoury cocktail. sliding it across the short counter towards you, his dark eyes don’t miss a single one of your movements, eyes sparkling like he could see the daydreams already plaguing you, “enjoy your night, sweetheart.”

[ccbunnv]

hello!! I miss your old work with the villain Bill so much.. Please write something with the villain Bill! I don't care what it will be:smut/fluff/angst; whatever, but just please! If you don't want to write for this anymore, then I'll understand! I love you very much!!💖🫂

I would like to hug you too! it's so cute!!😭🥹

oh, you're so adorable!!! of course <33 i missed writing villain bill too ^^ slight nsfw! not smut.

˖°🦇ִ ࣪𖤐 villain! bill x fem! reader angst -> fluff

once upon a time, you were in love with your husband. he was a strong, gentle soul, who used his power for good. he didn't care about reputation, only about doing what was right.

he was a handsome, healthy man, with a heart of gold. loved by all, and despised by his arch nemesis. you remembered the wedding ceremony, how the white drapery decorated the church, how you walked down the aisle with your long train of ivory behind.

you were a happy, excited woman, who was ready to accompany her loving husband every step of the way.

but as time went on, he began to change. once that man with a sunny smile, turned into what could be described as a modern-day monster. an abomination of man.

he swore to never drink, but there he was, downing a can of ice cold beer. he swore to never use his power for evil, yet there he was, threatening the life of a man just for a night at the bar.

he swore to love you, yet he wound up spewing insults after insults to you, over the smallest of mistakes. he swore to never raise a hand and forever protect you, but he ended up breaking glass bottles over your head.

the man who you married was no longer. you didn't know what else to do anymore. you married young; a horrible mistake, and you didn't know what the world could hand you.

he had gotten so lazy, that his own attempts at saving your life grew lackluster. sometimes it'd take him weeks to get his butt off a chair to save you from his arch nemesis's hands.

even he began to question your worth in the eyes of this glorious hero.

his arch nemesis, Bill, was a man who used his power for evil. robbing banks, burning establishments, kidnapping, murder, stealing priceless goods...you name it, he's done it.

but even though he was considered evil, you had never met a man who worried for you more. your mother in law would tell you to suck it up in favour of her grown manchild.

your father in law praised his son, your husband, for his abusive treatment towards you. your own parents left you on seen for multiple days when you messaged them about it.

but Bill...oh, not Bill. never him.

he treated you sweetly. he was the first to ask if anything was going on at home. he cared for you during the weeks it took for your husband to save you.

it left you wanting to stay with Bill instead.

the feeling was gut wrenching. you really, really didn't know what to do. you were legally wed to this man, this horrid man, and yet you were wishing to be with his enemy instead.

you yearned for his hands to touch yours again, for his sweet voice to whisper, "it's okay." in your ear once more.

just once more, and it'd be fine.

you even began to wish to be abducted by him every other day. you'd wish for his monstrous creation to infiltrate the city and grab you by the waist, to bring you back to his evil lair.

the sun was covered by the clouds. the sky was a grey that made you think of Bill. the dishes in your hands slipped, and clattered on the floor, shards of pure white china scattering on the floor.

the loud clash brought you back to reality. your husband stepped in and upon seeing the mess, he yelled, "YOU USELESS BITCH! CAN'T YOU DO ANYTHING RIGHT!? DO YOU KNOW HOW EXPENSIVE THIS IS!?"

his hand wrapped around your hair, scraming in your ear as you held in tears, "THIS IS WORTH MORE THAN YOU! MORE THAN YOUR HEART, YOUR LIVER, YOUR EYES! DO YOU WANT ME TO GUT YOU OPEN AND GOUGE OUT YOUR EYES!?"

"no, no, I'm sorry," you apologised, choking back cries, "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry."

"sorry, sorry, sorry. what more are you good for than being a heater for my bed, bitch?" he sneered, "maybe I should make sure you never make this mistake again."

he knelt down and grabbed a shard of the broken china, and dug the sharp tip into your forearm. you screamed in pain as he dragged it down, forming a long, red wound.

it bled as he threw the shard on the floor and said, "do you understand now, whore? you disgusting slut...I don't even want to see your ugly face. you plague every inch of me."

"I'm not coming home." he said, turning around and leaving the house, probably to go to yet another brothel.

tearfully, you sat in the kitchen, helpless and abandoned. but you had to do something about the painful wound on your forearm. so you stood, and fished through the first aid cabinet to get the things you needed to fix the injury.

as you did so, you couldn't help but remember how Bill would do it for you. his gentle, skilled hands, wrapping the gauze around your thigh that held an obvious carving of his name.

the way he would hold your hand when the pain grew too worse. he brought you a sense of comfort. and you wanted him, despite how his morals were.

𓆩♱𓆪

it was just another monday. you had to run to the grocery shop for a quick errand of eggs and milk. the nights had grown worse, your body felt sluggish from the unending abuse, the eyebags under your eyes made a raccoon green with envy.

you finished your purchase and you left the grocery store, checking your eggs and milk, looking through the receipt so there was no unauthorised purchases that you didn't know about.

suddenly, a loud scream reverberated around the city. you snapped your head towards the direction of the scream, only to be greeted by a loud explosion.

you tried to back away, but you suddenly felt someone gripping your waist and pulling you away. people tried to fight against the perpetrator stealing you, but you noticed the hands.

the black french manicure, the black fingerless leather gloves...the distinct 'Freiheit '89' covered by the black sleeve...it was Bill.

your knight in shining armour. your saviour. your safety.

you couldn't help but rest your head against his shoulder as he brought you back into where you truly belonged—his evil lair.

when you heard the sound of metal doors moving open and closing, you knew you were back. he whispered in your ear, "seems like you're enjoying this, schatz."

you grew bashful, "sorry."

"no need to be sorry. there's a new wound I see." he responded, bringing you into his mansion and placing you onto a couch.

"yeah. I broke an expensive china, and..." you looked away, not wanting to remember the memory.

he looked at you pitifully, and gently placed his hand into yours, "other than that wound, is there anything else?"

"no, it's the usual." you whispered, looking down at him while he went on one knee to look at you properly.

his hand brushed against your cheek. your heart drummed in anticipation. his hand moved to your hair and gently combed his fingers through it.

"how could he ever do such a thing to you?" he asked softly, "a girl like you deserves to have everything."

"you're too beautiful to be left with a man like him." he said, looking into your eyes as he placed his lips upon your knuckles.

you blushed, "Bill, this is wrong..."

"I know what's wrong and what's right. I'm doing you a favour, meine liebe, say you'll go with me." he stated, "I'll treat you better."

"I'll love you better." he whispered, "and you just be mine."

your heart melted. he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours, his lips inches away from yours. it was as if he read your mind when he kissed you.

sparks flew. you felt weak inside. you couldn't help but return the kiss, holding him closer. when you and him pulled away, he whispered, "say you'll go with me, bitte."

you nodded shakily, and whispered, "I will."

𓆩♱𓆪

"I will, Bill." you said, peering into his pretty brown eyes as the priest stared at you two in horror.

he smiled and laughed, holding you close. his lips met yours, his hand upon your waist, and the gloomy day outside was simply the best weather to have a wedding like this.

he held you close, before saying, "do you want to do it or should I?"

you shook your head, "you do it, darling."

"of course, schön." he said, pulling out his revolver and pointing it at your ex-husband's head, shooting him point blank.

remains of his brain flew everywhere. a hole in his head, empty like his vows to you, his eyes crossed as blood trickled down his nose.

you sighed and said, "maybe aim somewhere more humane next time."

"yes, meine liebe, I'll aim for an artery next time." he reassured, kissing your forehead, "I love you."

"I love you too." you responded, kissing his cheek back.

and now, you can finally have your happy ending.

[yjhzies]

“You first.” — Hong Joshua

Genre: fluffffff <3 Warning: work stress (to reader) Pairings: joshua x gn!(?)reader (not sure, wrote this long ago 🥰) Word count: 0.6k

You look in the mirror as you close the face cream's lid. As your fingers trace across your lips, you notice how dry they have become. With a sigh, you reach for the drawer, where your lip balm should be, but it's not. You look everywhere for it, only to be disappointed when you can't find it. It eventually gets on your nerves. Was the excessive amount of work you did this week not enough to drive you insane? You're not usually like this. You're never like this.

"Looking for something?" a voice asked as you pushed the drawer closed. Your gaze followed the voice, eventually revealing Joshua. You nod, sighing to soothe yourself. "Lip balm," you pause and lean against the wall. "Have you seen it?" you add. You let out another sigh as Joshua shook his head.

Yeah, it was just a lipbalm, but it just... just frustrates you. So much. Was it a result of working too much? Stress? Exhaustion? No idea. But Joshua's presence did, however, at least somewhat ease the annoyance you were feeling. You shut your eyes, allowing the frustration that was building inside of you to subside.

And that didn't go unnoticed by Joshua. After approaching the bed and putting the blanket over the two of you, Joshua gave you a forehead kiss. A gentle, comforting one. You held his hands as you rested your head on his chest.

"I can't remember where I put it." you mumbled. Joshua lifted up your chin to meet his gaze. Having put on lip balm after practice, his lips were gleaming. Without warning, he shot you a silly smile and smashed his lips against yours, leaving your lips glowing with the lip balm as well.

"There," he smiled. "you don't need a lip balm anymore." he added, giggling. You raised your brows as you looked at him. That was definitely unexpected, especially given how sudden it was. When Shua noticed your pink cheeks, he smiled broadly, proud of himself that he was able to make you smile. Being the cute person that he is, he never fails to make you blush.

"That was... sudden," you muttered, unable to contain your smile, as you rubbed the side of your lip and looked away. "It is a win-win; you got lip balm on your lips and I also stole a kiss." Shua chuckled. And there you were, flashing that foolish smile. Just what Joshua wanted. Wrapping his arms around you, Joshua caressed your hair.

"Is there anything you want talk about?" his voice calm as he asked you. You take a deep breath before replying, "It's just about work," you pause. "nothing much, but I always need to be there for everything... plan things, lead the workers-" you sighed, unable to continue your sentence.

"I know it's easier said than done," Joshua paused, loosening his grip on you. "you should take a break, please." he added. You look at him, unsure of how to respond. "Please?" With a whispery voice, Joshua pleaded as he tightened his grip around you. Sighing, you nod your head as you smile. "Okay... It's not a bad idea." you spoke, earning a giggle from him.

You haven't taken a single break throughout the entire year, so he was correct after all. It would not hurt to take a little break because your business was currently operating smoothly. In fact, it was really good.

Joshua held you close the whole night, reassuring you that it was normal to mess up things or stress out sometimes. But that doesn't mean you'll not give yourself time and become workaholic.

"You should always put yourself first before anything else." Joshua spoke, running a hand over your hair as the moon shone brightly through the window's slightly open pane. "I'm an exception, though. I put you first before anything else." With a smile on his lips, he added.

You smiled and replied, "Fair enough, I also put you first." earning a kiss from Joshua.

[khayalli]

The gentle rap-tap-tap on the window startles you from the late night daze you'd been in. Blinking, rubbing your eye's, you try to clear the fog and blue light you're still lost in as you look up from the computer, having not realised just how much the dark has now enveloped your room save for the light from your computer.

"Donnie?" you ask.

He's standing outside the window, wearing only his purple hoodie. Immediately concerned by how little he's wearing and how freezing cokd it is tonight, you hurry kver from your computer to open the window. You shudder as the brittle cold sweeps in like an old friend. But then again, so does Donnie.

Pulling you into the thick of his hoodie, your face is pressed firm into the thread where the ice has settled deep deep into the cotton, like tiny frost particles, so small that your naked eye cannot see them, but so real that they summon goosbumps as they bite and melt against your skin.

"Mm, you're warm," he murmurs. His voice is low in his chest as it rumbles, like a campfire burning late before it slowly dies, snuffed out by the cool dead of the night.

"And you're freezing," you say, swiftly pushing him back to get a better look at his face.

His eyes are heavy with the weight of something he's spent far too long mulling over in a jail of his own making. A cell of himself. He does this sometimes. Forget's that he has people he can go to, people he can depend on who can help solve his problems with him instead of ruminating through the data all on his own and yet still somehow managing to come to the wrong conclusion.

The 'logical' conclusion, in his words.

"Donnie, what's wrong?" you ask. You frown at the feeling of his cold hands as they interlock with your own. You were already think about how cold it was, here in the apartment, and yet, by comparison, you're as warm as a flue.

"It happened again," he says, voice going croaky as it crumbles like chalk. His lips curve downwards and his eyes become wet with the memory of something he's already had to live over and over and over again. A reoccuring nightmare, one of a world where there's only pain and never joy; only darkness but never light; only him, and not...

"...Would you like to try and sleep here tonight?" you ask softly, seeing him slowly come back from reliving that pain somewhere deep deep behind those dark and beautiful eyes of his.

He nods, quiet and slow as he blinks back the tears and tries to maintain that cool composure he likes to wear like a shield. You wonder if he knows you've already worked out just how soft that shield really is.

"Let's get you out of this," you say, pulling his hoodie up over his head. "And into a warm bed."

Taking his hand, you toss the cold garment over onto the chair where you’d been sitting and working late, and guide Donnie towards the bed. You pull back the covers to crawl in first, and Donnie is quick to follow. He snuggles into the space between your legs as he rests his head on your chest and wraps his arms around your waist to breathe you in and feel you close.

"You're like a hot water bottle," he mumbles against your pajamas.

You consider making a joke about how cold he is, but seeing the way his eyes fall closed as he let's himself relax against you, you resort to drawing lines over the back of his soft shell instead. You feel him tense, feel him squeeze you a little tighter, and then he chokes.

"...I couldn't save him—"

"Hey, hey, hey," you coo as you wrap your hands around his head. You run your thumb against rhe underside of his cheek to try and soothe him as he shakes. "You did, though. You did save Leo. Remember? Mikey got him out!"

"But he's not the same." He trembles like a leaf lost in a tempest in your arms. "He can't sleep. He just... disappears sometimes and doesn't tell me where or why he goes. Sometimes he gets this look in his eyes like he’s not even here anymore, like he's... he's..."

"...Like he’s still trapped in that dimension?"

He sniffles. "...Yeah..."

"Donnie," you say, wiping away a stray tear as it rolls over the fabric of his mask. "Your brothers are here. All of them. I'm sure you went and checked on them before you came to me, right?"

"...Yeah."

"Leo... he might not be the same Leo as before. He just needs more time. To heal."

He looks up at you with eyes like that of a dog that looks to the moon. Loyal, loving, and hanging on every word.

"He'll come back to you. He will. You don't have to do it alone. You have your brothers. And you have me. We can help him together."

[reluctanttrabbit]

oughh pls ramble to me abt your headcanons or story about pre sb vanessa!!!!

GUAHHHH VANESSA!!! I'LL TAKE ANY EXCUSE TO RAMBLE ABOUT MY GIRLIE<333 im still figuring out a lot of her backstory right now But. heres what i have at the moment

sooooo basically nessa's family is her, her mom, dad and older brother ages 1-8 shes unbothered. happy. in her lane. flourishing.

their mom used to be a BIG freddys fan and so that kinda carried over to ness and her brother its DEFINITELY their hyperfixation i make the rules.

everythings pretty good until around 8-9 her parents seem to be having fights here and there. not too bad, it happens

then they fight more. sometimes it gets physical.

then suddenly her father tells her that they're getting a divorce.

vanessa and her brother are forced to lie in court, and we all know how this goes ☹️☹️☹️

vanessa and her brother have a 7 year age difference so he moves out when vanessa is 10 and leaving her stuck with her dad. they make sure to keep in touch but ness just wishes he'd come home and keep him safe from their dad

as she gets older she starts rebelling more by dying n cutting her hair, staying out later, etc etc and at 16 she fully runs away and steals her dad's crusty pick-up truck (HELL YEAH NESS ‼️‼️🦅🦅🦅)

she lives with her brother now, who for the last 5-ish years had been developing fazbear frights (her brother is phone dude!!) and she gets to help out with the attraction!! until it um. burns down. i wonder who did that

vanessa eventually saves up enough to move out and gets a job as a beta tester for fazbear entertainment's newest attraction; a vr game! vanessa is Very aware of the fazbear controversies and tragedies, but its easy pay and PLUS its a job she'd actually enjoy doing. so she takes it. can't be as bad as the other establishments, right?

---

i know you said pre-sb so i probably went WAY further back buuuuut im stopping it here bc i cant write anymore 😭😭 hope this was a fun read at least!!

[bonni]

right after having a Social Anxiety moment I immediately got kicked while I was already down when a classmate started his presentation about "developmental psychopathy" I literally couldn't take it anymore I straight up messaged my professor and said "psychopathy isn't real. even modern psychologists don't consider it a useful label, to the point that it was removed from the dsm in 1986. it's heavily racialized and used to justify the prison industrial complex. until the 70s autism was considered a form of psychopathy. this presentation is personally offensive to me and I'm going to leave now" and god dammit I did just that

[shannonsketches]

Why is the anime so weird, it's not even the same series dude?? It's like,

Anime:

GOKU: I have a great idea to bring peace to the universe, and my leadership and compassion alone will unite us all. I have No Flaws and am A True Relatable Everyman :)

VEGETA: NO! I AM THE BEST AND I WILL CAUSE PROBLEMS UNTIL I AM RECOGNIZED AS SUCH!!!!

Manga:

GOKU: Vegeta what's cornmeal made of? I know it's what the corn eats, but what's it made of? VEGETA: Hey Kakarot let's play the quiet game until one of us dies.