#thank you for the ask ily!!!

[evergardenwall]

2,3,30

2. lighter or matches?

matches... i am embarassed to say it, but i find lighters so difficult to use :( <- mf with no dexterity

3. do you leave the window open at night?

i do this sometimes in the summer, yes :) are there people who leave it open at night like....in general ?

30. is there dishes in your room?

right now, there isn't (i cleaned my room!! yippee) but you can very often find half empty mugs i forgot to bring back to the kitchen...

send me weird asks!

[uhohdad]

hear me out, loser! könig who's in love with his best friend and she drags him to go dress shopping and he has to consciously keep himself from drooling everytime she shows him a new dress. She's just so pretty, grabbable hips with the prettiest smile and she has that sparkle in her eyes and she's looking at *him.*

(18+) Dress Shopping with Loser!König

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ྀི ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ྀི ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ྀི ⋅˚₊ ‧୨୧ ‧₊˚

“What do you think of this one?”

Loser!König has heard this question all day long, and if he answered honestly, you’d run for the hills.

Loser!König can’t believe you’re inviting him to ogle at you. His eyes devour the way each dress hugs your curves, your legs that curtsy and twirl as you show off, hips that beg for his strong hands. His favorite are the particularly low-cut dresses, shamelessly drooling over your plush, perfect cleavage. He imagines he’s slipping his hardened hands down your collar and into your bra, grabbing two handfuls of your soft breasts, massaging them against his palms.

Loser!König’s erection has turned painful long ago, forced to tuck his aching cock into the waistband of his pants in hopes you can’t tell that you’re torturing him. Torturing him with your perfect body, with that brilliant smile, with soft, sweet eyes looking up at him so innocently. It brings a heat to both his face and his cock, leaking and throbbing in his pants.

Loser!König who can’t stop thinking about how easy it would be to lift the hem of your dress and get a glimpse of your panties. He wants to sneak an upskirt photo, craves to know what color you’re wearing, what cut, if they’re lacy or not. The thought of a dainty bow on the top of your panties has a huffy groan threatening to leave his lips, a pretty little present for him to unwrap.

Loser!König can hardly resist the urge to drag you into the fitting room. Pin both of your wrists to the mirror with a brute hand, the other sneaking up your thighs and bunching up the dress. Grinding his aching cock against your front, nestling himself between your lips and rocking against your clit. Yanking your soaked panties to the side and bullying his thick cock into your dripping cunt while you claw at him, his name stuck in the back of your throat.

Loser!Konig who practically throws his wallet at the cashier when you go to pay. He would buy you a hundred dresses if it means he gets to look at you in them.

Loser!König pretends to use a fitting room to try on a shirt, but instead relieves his painful, throbbing erection, biting back his pathetic whines and grunts as he imagines he’s filling you up, hands dug into your hips in that pretty dress. Ravaging your tight, wet cunt until he paints the fitting room mirror with his finish, choking back a moan that threatens to twist into your name.

Loser!König is bright red and sweating when he leaves the fitting room, hoping you haven’t realized what a perverted creep he truly is.

“Äh, it didn’t fit.”

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ྀི ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ྀི ⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅^ྀི ⋅˚₊ ‧୨୧ ‧₊˚

Loser!König

[gentlebeard]

If I could hold you for a minute, Darling, I’d go through it again

For @edsbacktattoo & @stedesearring 💕 Show: Our Flag Means Death - Season 1 & 2 Music: Francesca by Hozier YouTube

[buglaur]

if virgil was in a horror movie he'd probably be first to die

[shamedumpster]

Okay now I really wanna see grantaire in one of your cool outfits :DD

Here you go! >:)

(+ bonus Enjolras 👀)

[daturabouquet]

Dottie will definitely be the type of husband who's rude with you and doesn't show affection but when you don't give him attention he will only be jealous of the thing you're giving attention to it like imagine getting a cat and playing with it the whole day forgetting that you have a grumpy jealous silly doctor😭😭-

THAT'S SO CUTE 😭 he's so adorable without knowing it when he gets jealous (he's so silly ur right anon)

Reader: /is having fun playing with a cat/

Dottore, after being a bitch to you for the last 48 hours: 😡

and I think Dot would glare at the cat the second you look away like it did something wrong.

he has beef with the cat here I'll give you an illustration:

[inkyajax]

gmorning Clari!!! 💘 I’m not sure you’ve done it before, but I’d loooove to know what type of yanderes you’d classify your genshin faves as 😘

ANDYYYY i am so sorry i am responding a few days late to this and that’s because i accidentally wrote you a whole novel for an answer :) your ask sparked so many thoughts and i just BLAAAH spewed them all over the page (*ﾉωﾉ) ugh ahahaha ANYWAY oh gosh okay i have so much to say, let’s get into it!!! also apologies for how MASSIVE ajax’s is waaaah

characters: wriothesley, ajax [childe], kamisato ayato, thoma warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, yandere behaviour (gaslighting, obsessiveness, toxic relationships, delusional thinking, manipulation, over-protectiveness, etc) words: 2.1k

₊˚⊹ 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲

WRIOTHESLEY is the controlling, authoritarian type that feels like a really strict father, all under the guise of ‘protecting you’ and ‘keeping you safe’. he veers into delusional territory a little here because he genuinely believes what he’s telling you (and himself) and genuinely believes himself to be doing the right thing. he isn’t possessive, he just wants to make sure you’re going out with safe people. he isn’t obsessive, he just wants to know where you are at all times in case an emergency strikes and he has to come find you. he isn’t overbearing, he just cares and is proactive—don’t you want him to care? can’t you see he’s only this ‘protective’ because he loves you? 

he has thoroughly convinced himself that this behaviour has nothing to do with jealousy or a desire to keep you locked up, to keep you 100% certainly safe and his forever, and nothing to do with wanting to exert complete control over you, orchestrating your every decision—and he’s pretty good at continuously deluding himself into believing it. he’s so good, in fact, and his logic is so sound, that it has YOU wondering if you’re ‘just being crazy’, if you’re overthinking things or reading too much into them. wriothesley has had a lot taken away from him, after all, and he knows exactly how the mind of criminals tick—can you really blame him for being a bit paranoid? maybe you’re the one who’s overreacting and being unreasonable. maybe you’re even feeling a little guilty for being so ungrateful—shouldn’t you appreciate having someone who loves and cares for you this much to go to such extents? shouldn’t you want to relinquish all power to someone you love equally as much? shouldn’t you trust him to make only the best, most sound and appropriate decisions for you? you probably should. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐚𝐣𝐚𝐱

AJAX is kind of like, the typical yandere, and he encompasses several ‘types’, evolving throughout the course of your relationship and shapeshifting into different variants depending on the situation itself. and while the other three men seem normal until you’re in too deep with them, refraining from showing symptoms of yandere-ness until after you’ve been with them for an extended period of time and mean a lot to them, ajax is weird from the very beginning. 

almost immediately you can sense that there’s something slightly off about him, but you can’t put your finger on what it is. it’s so subtle that it doesn’t strike you as particularly dangerous, leading you to merely write it off as one of his quirks and nothing more. 

he’s overbearing right from the start, of course; not necessarily enough to be concerning just yet, but enough for it to be abnormal—unusual—and noticeable (which reminds me of your lil ajax piece!!!). from the instant he sees you, he is irreversibly obsessed with you. you permeate his every waking thought, and eventually begin to leak into his dreams, too, and suddenly he can barely breathe without knowing where you are and what you’re doing, his concentration consumed by you. 

he begins stalking you—‘overseeing’, he had called it—making detailed notes of your favourite locations and your most frequented friends. he’s constantly got an eye on you one way or another, even if he has to employ other people to do it for him, discreetly reporting their findings every few hours. he tells them you’re in danger—which, you are, technically—and that you must be observed at all times from afar, silently and stealthily. 

ajax is patient and he can play the waiting game, carefully devising and then revising his strategy based on your moves. he loves playing predator and prey, gets a thrill from how the hunt unfolds—much like a battle, it’s a story, a rich tapestry you and he are constantly and concurrently creating, together. and that he thinks is so beautiful.

in textbook yandere fashion, once he’s gathered a sufficient amount of intel, he begins ‘showing up’ randomly at your usual spots, ‘bumping into you’ fortuitously. charming and sweet, the only thing that’s initially unsettling is just how well the two of you get along. ajax is sure not to mimic you too much—he doesn’t want to be a mirror, after all, and being too similar is far from a good thing (especially when it matches so well it simply can’t be coincidental).

well—that, and the sharp glint in his eye that flares with something dangerous every time you giggle or gush, every time you fall further for him. and once he has you enchanted, ensnared, you’re trapped for life, tangled up in him so tightly that he might as well have fused to your flesh. 

ajax likes to tell you it isn’t about power and control, but he knows that it is. he’s smart, and he’s self aware, and he doesn’t really care if this is ‘wrong’—he sees it as necessary and he genuinely believes he knows better than you do. he has to take care of you, or else who will? you’re clearly not capable of satisfactorily doing it on your own, so he must (god, how would you manage without him?). even if you oppose him or fight back against him, he’s purely convinced you’re bull-headed and stubborn, snorting at your wanting to be independent when he truly knows you’re too stupid take care of yourself ‘properly’ all on your own.

violence is a mainstay of your relationship, but not towards you; never towards you—merely towards everyone around you. his jealousy knows no bounds, but you will rarely see it outright. instead, ajax prefers to hone his emotions, to fashion them into a weapon or use them as fuel to thoroughly tear apart anyone who looks your way in a manner he doesn’t like. it’s his job as your lover and keeper, isn’t it? 

₊˚⊹ 𝐤𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐲𝐚𝐭𝐨

AYATO knows what he is, and he doesn’t care. why should he, when he’s sure what he’s doing is ultimately correct and he’s used to having everything that he wants, and everything going his way, even if he has to force/manipulate it to? he’s so skilled at that in particular—manipulating situations and events to procure favourable outcomes for himself. in ayato’s mind, you should be grateful that he affords you so many freedoms—he could lock you away in the basement or a padded room, chain you to a bed with no entertainment or stimulation save for the books he has so conscientiously selected for you, and no other human contact aside from himself. but he trusts you, and he doesn’t want to go to those measures (though rest assured, he has promised you he will not hesitate to reach such heights if he deems it absolutely necessary, no matter how much he doesn’t want to; you staying his comes before his personal preferences and pleasures). as such, he allows you to roam the estate grounds under the watchful eye of his closest confidants and most capable guards (usually thoma, unless he is otherwise occupied and busy); he allows you access to letter writing materials (though they must go through two rounds of supervision and revisions before they are approved; once by thoma, and once by ayato himself); he allows you to go out in public as long as you are with him, etc. 

despite these apparent freedoms he affords you, he still picks your outfits out for you each day, and he devises a comprehensive meal plan for you each week, and creates schedules and rules he expects you to follow, thoroughly and meticulously to the letter. it is these subtle forms of ownership that he enjoys the most. he doesn’t feel the need to shout from the mountaintops, loudly and aggressively, that you are his, because the fact is so obvious, so evident, the second anyone merely glances at you. you walk like him, you talk like him, you sit, stand, and bow like him, just like he trained you to. 

ayato is also the type of yandere to punish you. he is molding your pretty little mind into exactly what he wants it to be, and that means that undesirable behaviours must be immediately and severely corrected through appropriate punishments—you must learn, or be taught what is right and what is wrong in ayato terms + definitions, so you will refrain from repeating such behaviour in the future. he is truly crafting you into the most perfect, precious, obedient little doll—and having a blast while doing so. it’s his little pet passion project, in a way; something he looks forward to working on when he has a moment of spare time. 

ayato was sly and clever with the way he initially enticed you, entrapped you, but underneath his cool, precisely chiseled exterior, ayato is selfish, manipulative, and extremely controlling. all decisions are ultimately made by and go through him. he will skillfully and carefully cut you off from all lifelines and communication, rendering you wholly dependent on him, and then will meticulously chip away at your mind until he sculpts it into exactly what he desires—someone who is as obsessed with him as he is with them. he slowly, stealthily, and steadily induces a severe, irreversible case of stockholm syndrome. the damage he does to your mind is permanent—and that’s exactly his goal. you now live for him. your days are marked by his appearances, his comings and goings, and the only thing you have to look forward to is seeing + spending time with him. you live to please him, live to be with him, and become absorbed by him, so you are merely an extension of him and no longer an individual yourself. everything revolves around ayato—he is your entire universe. 

₊˚⊹ 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐚

THOMA is the most dangerous type of yandere, because thoma is genuine. thoma’s feelings are 100% authentic—and he earnestly intends to bring you no harm whatsoever—they’re just way too intense. he loves you so much that it veers into insanity, and the passion he feels towards you (and towards keeping you safe + claiming you as his) is so fierce that it physically hurts him to experience, chest blistering with scorching adoration and razored affection, something so dense and so all-consuming that thoma wants to claw through his own flesh and pry his ribcage apart spoke by spoke just so he can experience a shred of relief. 

thoma is, for the most part, an honest guy—starkly, brashly honest, so honest it shatters his words and gnaws at his voice, leaving it rough and raw, splintered to shards; but you can always trust he says exactly what he means. he severely lacks self awareness, not even realizing that his behaviour is inappropriate and extreme (he just cares about you SO much! it blinds his rationale and erodes his logic, incapacitating his ability to understand that he’s so suffocating it borders on terrifying). 

but what makes thoma so incredibly perilous is his sincerity. he truly just wants to keep you safe, eyes brimming with tears and voice hitching on barely contained emotion as he thoroughly explains to you his logic for stashing tracking devices in your bags or his reasoning for shattering the kneecaps of the man who made you uncomfortable at work, sentiment thick in his throat, words straining with the weight of his honesty, with the desperation for you to understand, to see it his way. he swears to the high heavens that he’d never hurt a single hair on your pretty, precious little head, and promises that he doesn’t want to scare you, but firmly asserts that he will do whatever it takes to keep you safe. 

and he means it. thoma is, in the most essential sense, your guard dog. he’s so sweet towards you, even submissive at times, always subservient to your every wish and whim, your every demand and desire, but he’ll fucking rip anyone within a meter of you to pieces with his teeth and bare hands alone if he feels as though you are being threatened in any way—and his standards and definition of ‘threatened’ are extreme and absurd, of course, causing him to react in a way that is severely disproportionate to the situation.

it borders on too much all the time—he is too obsessive, too protective, too clingy, but he’s also so sweet, so gentle, so incredibly bonafide that you can’t help but not be upset with him. he only does what he does because you’re his entire world, right? what’s so harmful about that? 

[the-phantom-peach]

I have a bunch of assessments due so I'm procrastinating by looking at your art again 😭😭😭. Could I perhaps request some silly school pegoryu? 🙏💕

[boatboysrowout]

please tell us more about the mall au, specifically etho and his pipe bomb, i need an entire thing of him running from the cops (i am your number one fan ignore that i only just found out about you that doesnt matter)

hey guys. wanna hear about white castle pipe bomb c plot?

this may come as a surprise to some, but etho is a natural at customer service. he’s always been a pretty chill guy- it takes a lot to faze him, probably a consequence of his proclivity towards explosives in his early years. that calm exterior translates well to working the front desk of a local electronics repair store (not that he had needed a summer job, really, but doc and beef both went home for the summer, and someone kept leaving him visa-friendly job applications in every nook and cranny of his dorm- he found one in his cereal a few weeks before finals, and even that one had nothing on the one he found folded up in his toothpaste).

that being said, being good at customer service doesn’t mean that he’s completely immune to the agonies of said customer service. being good at customer service just means that after the eighteenth laptop he has to factory reset while a teenaged boy swears up and down he had not in fact clicked on a link for sexy singles in his area, etho’s able to wait until the boy leaves before attempting to gouge out his other eye.

he’s searching for a screwdriver when his phone buzzes with a text, and after a longing look at his toolbox etho flips his sign to closed and heads over to the white castle. he makes a quick stop at the arcade tango mans to set a new high score on the pinball machine, effectively guaranteeing tango will be glued to the pinball machine until he regains the top leaderboard spot, and then continues on his way to the white castle, spirits high. 

etho’s good mood abruptly vanishes after stepping into the white castle, as bdubs has apparently deemed etho’s delay in arrival unforgivable and is now withholding the free fries etho had been promised.

etho slumps himself over the front counter, not unlike a wet cat, and starts causing a scene, whining about his awful day full of idiot teens and potential self mutilation that can only be staved off with free food. bdubs staunchly ignores him and cleo threatens to pour hot oil on his head.

eventually actual paying customers come in and etho’s continued presence becomes a problem, so bdubs heaves a sigh and offers the fries to etho as long as he pays full price for them, to which etho, an extreme couponer, reacts appropriately.

etho’s eye narrows as he peels himself off of the front counter, demanding the fries free of charge. bdubs refuses. cleo smacks bdubs on the back of the head and tells him to just give etho the fries so he'll go away.

etho gives bdubs one last chance to give him the fries for free, and by the time bdubs physically removes him from the premises etho is already plotting his revenge and heading straight back to the art store to collect a favor.

(you see, somewhere between the fifth and eighth laptop etho had to factory reset, tango texted him that he managed to jailbreak the pinball machine to accept a quarter for unlimited plays, and etho abandoned his job immediately to take advantage of the incredible deal.  

that was his intention, anyway. but what happened is this: etho had never really shaken off the hold explosives have over him. after he’d been put on a five different government watchlists by the time he was seventeen he’d taken a step back and started focusing more on computing and getting into college and other projects that were less likely to necessitate seizure by the canadian government. he’s clean. he left that life behind him.

however. 

when the sound of an explosion comes from the cute little art shop as etho walks past, there’s not a second of hesitation before he swung the front doors open and entered the shop.

it hadn’t taken him long to locate the source of the explosion, following a trail of smoke down a half hidden flight of stairs to a door with a hastily scrawled sign on it reading 'SUPER TALL AND HANDSOME EMPLOYEES ONLY.’

etho opened the door, walking into what has to be the world’s most pathetic meth lab. in the corner there was a stack of cardboard boxes labeled NOT DRUGS/DEFINITELY LEGAL SUBSTANCES. beakers filled with unidentifiable substances were bubbling over onto the table. a laptop near etho’s foot displayed results for a google search of ‘how to tell if a cut needs stitches and also how long can you set yourself on fire without going to hospital.’

“THIS ISN’T WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.” a man who etho vaguely recognized from grian's beginning of summer introductions had shouted, throwing his body over the contents of the table in a desperate attempt to hide the beakers from view. a few shattered under his weight and etho heard him stifle a whimper. “everything here is perfectly normal and also legal.”

breaking bad played quietly from a tv somewhere in the background.

etho raised an eyebrow.)

in the end, they manage to work out a deal: etho would not call the cops or tell anyone about joel's secret little operation and in return, joel owed etho a favor.

and now etho will cash that favor in.

(“so let me get this straight. you’re pissed your friend wouldn’t give you chips for free and your first instinct is to go to a meth lab and steal my meth supplies to get back at him.”

“failed meth lab. and yup.”

“there’s something wrong with you.”

“at least i know how to make meth.”

“wait, you what.”)

they start small. prank calls, anonymous yelp reviews calling the really loud cashier short, launching fireworks through the drive-thru window. it doesn’t take long for them to get bored with that though, which leads to bdubs walking into the white castle one morning to discover a horse standing in the middle of the lobby. 

the horse seems very at peace with the situation, wandering over to chew on bdub’s hair as he sputters and cleo ignores the situation entirely. bdubs is left with the task of removing the horse from the store, except the horse seems to be taller than the doorway and not particularly interested in leaving, so eventually bdubs is forced to give up. There’s just a horse in their lobby now. 

it doesn’t take bdubs very long to become attached to the horse, much to the detriment of cleo. she’s running the white castle single handedly by the end of the second day, serving customers and manning the kitchen while bdubs whispers sweet nothings to the horse in the makeshift horse stall he made in the women’s restroom. 

it’s pointless to try and reason with bdubs, so cleo makes her way over to the art store basement where joel and etho have set up their base of operations. ignoring the now functioning meth lab, she demands the horse be removed from the premises in exchange for a reasonable one free small fry per week. 

reasonable to cleo, and least. both jeol and etho scoff at her offer and demand at least one large fry per day each, to which cleo laughs in their faces. she doesn’t bother making a counter offer, simply turning on her heel and walking out of the basement. she pauses for a moment at the front of the shop to make sure she hadn’t been followed before grabbing her lighter from her pocket, casually flicking it on and taking a step towards the tissue paper.

by the time joel and etho notice something is amiss the fire department has arrived, and they’re barely able to hide the evidence of their operation before firefighters are breaking down the door, carrying them out through the art shop, entirely engulfed in flames. 

(“so in retrospect, ripping all the smoke detectors out of the ceiling probably wasn’t a great idea on your part.”

“how was i to know i was gonna get into a war with an arsonist, all i wanted to do was mind my own business and make meth!”

“fail at making meth.”

“shut up.”)

now relocated behind the counter at etho’s repair shop, joel and etho prepare their final attack.

the plan is simple: using supplies salvaged from the meth lab, etho will construct a smoke bomb and throw it through the white castle drive through window while joel takes advantage of the distraction and steals all the fries the white castle possesses.

making the smoke bomb is a piece of cake, and when joel isn't looking etho sneaks a few of his own more... volatile substances into his backpack. just in case.

joel enters the white castle and cleo immediately clocks him due to joel being the most suspicious person alive always, but she cannot be arsed to investigate. it’s been a long fucking week. joel knows what will happen if he messes with her.

bdubs, however, feels an impending sense of doom through his Etho Senses and rushes over to the drive-thru window and whips it open, immediately screaming at the sight of etho across the road winding up his arm with a smoke bomb in his hand.

and that’s when things really start to go wrong.

because here’s the thing: etho’s been missing an eye for most of his life. he knows his depth perception is shit. but he’s so caught up in the adrenaline of the moment, and bdubs screaming isn’t exactly helping him focus, and listen the baseball scene in canada isn’t exactly thriving-

all of this is to say that etho activates the smoke bomb, winds up, and promptly chucks it five feet to the left of the drive through window. it bounces off the side of the building and rolls to a stop against the tire of the car that had been pulling up to order.

several things happen in very quick succession:

1. the smoke bomb begins pouring out smoke, completely obscuring etho from view and flooding into the white castle

2. bdubs attempts to continue screaming but immediately regrets it as copious amounts of smoke invade his lungs

3. the car which had previously been pulling up to the drive through attempts to exit the scene as quickly as possible, but due to the aforementioned copious amounts of smoke misjudges where the road turns and makes a hard left directly into the wall of the white castle

the very same wall where bdubs had leashed his horse mere minutes before, and the very same wall joel had been creeping along.

the horse and joel are immediately flattened, and upon seeing this bdubs’ impassioned screaming reaches pitches previously unknown to man, and all hell breaks loose.

cleo starts cackling and arms herself with a makeshift flamethrower thrown together with hairspray and a personalized lighter. bdubs attempts to leap out of the drive-thu window but his foot gets stuck and he falls out of the building, crumpling to the ground in a still screaming heap before scrambling back up through the drive-thru window and into the fray. joel manages to claw his way out of the rubble, finds himself face to face with cleo and her flamethrower, and has half a second to regret the his and hers shrek mugs that trapped him in this stupid country before he’s running for his life. 

etho himself ends up sitting peacefully on the bench outside the white castle entrance, his mask helpfully filtering out most of the smoke. it’s lucky he grabbed some extra materials from joel’s lab really, he knew bdubs wouldn’t hand over the fries without a fight. 

he’s in the middle of assembling a device that’ll definitely get him put on the american government’s watchlist and ignoring the screams coming from inside when two men rush past him into the white castle, shouting something about justice and burgers. etho waits for a second, and almost immediately they come rushing back out. he waves at their retreating figures, one of whom he’s pretty sure is the theater kid that tried to put on a one man show of macbeth during welcome week.

etho wraps the fuse around his pipe bomb and stands up, brushing the debris off of his pants and strolling into the fray.

he finds bdubs almost immediately, the man standing on the counter and clearly audible even over the fire alarms and incessant swearing from joel and cleo, who now both have improvised flamethrowers and are duking it out in the kids play area. despite the smoke bduds and etho lock eyes instantly, bdubs paling a few shades when he sees what etho has in his hand.

bdubs jumps off the counter and attempts to run to etho, but is cut off by an entirely engulfed in flames joel. it seems that bdubs did not learn a single lesson about the flammability of his hair product from his run in with grian at the beginning of the summer, because his hair bursts into flames after the slightest brush from joel, and this time cleo isn’t standing nearby with a fire extinguisher.

it should be noted that most of the white castle is entirely engulfed in flames at this point. etho’s at the center of it all, cradling his pipe bomb like a baby and searching furiously for his promised free french fries. 

he’s stopped by cleo who meets his eyes, smiles wide, and lights the pipe bomb fuse. 

-

etho and cleo stare at the wreckage of the white castle. look at each other. look back at the rubble.

the sirens in the distance are distinctly closer now, and both etho and cleo abruptly realize how much evidence is contained on their person. 

“joel’s probably fine.” cleo says. “i saw him run into the walk in freezer after i burnt away the last of his clothes and hair.”

etho nods. “bdubs is too short to get crushed by rubble.”

cleo hums agreement. they stand side by side for a moment longer before cleo turns to etho.

“well, i won’t tell if you won’t.”

with that she turns on her heel and walks away. etho sticks around for a few more minutes, watching the flames die down and the last of the white castle crumble. he digs around in his pocket for a moment and pulls out a blackened handful of fries, yanking his mask down to shove them in his mouth as emergency services skid into the parking lot. 

sticking around turns out to be a mistake, etho quickly realizes, as his white hair reflects the light from the police cars and catches the attention of every officer there. he takes off at a sprint, pulling his mask back up and booking it straight into moving traffic, dodging cars and leaving the yells of the police officers and the rubble behind him.

and that’s the last anyone sees of etho that summer.

(og link here!)

[heartbreak-sandwich]

Hear me out on this one! A cute secret date turn relationship with Billy x fem reader. He doesn’t want people like his dad or Tommy getting in the way with his time with his girlfriend. You can write it however you pls!

Hope you like that idea, thank you 😊

Hiiiii!!! I’m sorry this sat in my inbox for so long!! I’m finally catching up on all of my requests, and this one is so cute! I really appreciate your patience, and I hope you like it! We're feeling fluffy with this one today 💕 | Master List 📖

You weren’t sure what a date with Billy Hargrove would entail. You had heard the rumors about the new King of Hawkins High – how he took a different girl home every week, and his sleek, blue Camaro was permanently parked out at Lover’s Lake. You were shocked that Friday when you were alone in the auditorium running through light cues, and Billy approached you.

“Tommy’s not here,” you called to him as he walked down one of the aisles. Tommy Hagan had been charged with sweeping up the auditorium during the lunch hour for two weeks after playing what he thought was a harmless prank on a freshman on the basketball team, and you were sure Billy had come looking for him.

“Is it just you in here?” His question caught you off guard, but you tried not to let it distract you from your work.

“Yeah. Did you need something?” Billy sat down in the chair next to you, and you finally looked up from your stack of cue sheets to see his signature smirk and cerulean eyes, deep like the ocean. You could smell his spiced aftershave, a hint of cigarette smoke, and the cool aroma of winterfresh gum as he leaned in closer to you.

“I just came to see if you’re free tonight.” Billy smacked his gum as he rested an arm over the back of your chair, awaiting your answer. You froze, unsure if this was a mistake or some kind of cruel joke.

“What for?” You searched his expression for any clues as to what he might be thinking, but it was unchanging.

“To go out,” he answered nonchalantly. Your breath caught in your chest, and crimson heat crept up to your cheeks.

“Like…on a date?” He had to have noticed your blushing and the perplexing look on your face, but he kept his cool completely.

“Of course.” He beamed, his blinding smile causing your stomach to erupt into butterflies.

“With you?!” Billy’s exterior cracked slightly with that question. He looked offended, almost irritated, and he started to fidget with something in his pocket.

“Look, if you don’t want to –”

“No!” You cut him off in a hurry. “No, it’s not that at all. It’s just –” He looked intently into your eyes as you tried to find the right words to explain your bewilderment. “I guess I didn’t think I was really your type.”

Billy chuckled and looked down at his shoes before meeting your eyes once more. “Well, I guess there’s a lot you don’t know about me. I’ll pick you up at, say, 8 o’clock?” The voice in your head was screaming don’t do it; you know better, but everything else in your body reacted in the complete opposite fashion.

“Sure,” you agreed softly. Billy smiled once more before standing up from his chair, taking smooth strides toward the auditorium’s exit.

“See you tonight,” he called over his shoulder, never looking back. You heard the door close after him, and all you could do was stare wide-eyed at the wall while you tried to process what had just happened.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Of course he brought you to some random clearing in the woods. You were sure he was either about to murder you or try to get laid, and you couldn’t decide which one was worse. You assumed a date would occur somewhere conventional, like the movies, a restaurant, or the mall – not here at…an overlook? You tried not to let your apprehension show as Billy shifted his car into park.

“Well, here we are,” he declared, opening the driver’s side door and climbing out of the car into the chill of the starry night. You were surprised again when you heard the passenger door opening just a few seconds later, and he helped you out of your seat, steadying you on the uneven ground.

“Where is here, exactly?”

“I’ll show you; come here. And be careful. There’s a lot to trip over out here in the dark,” he warned. That didn’t make you feel any better about the possibility of being murdered, but you didn’t have much choice but to hold onto his arm as he led you to a guard rail at the top of the overlook.

“Wow,” you murmured. Every single light throughout the town of Hawkins was visible from where the two of you stood, and it was absolutely breathtaking. You had never seen so many shooting stars, and the deep navy sky was littered with sparkling clusters which were usually totally camouflaged under the umbrella of downtown’s streetlamps.

“You like it?” Billy sounded hopeful, like he actually cared whether his choice pleased you, and you nodded. He let out a small sigh of relief, and he slowly took your hand from his arm, interlacing your fingers together. The setting was more romantic than you had expected, and you couldn’t shake the nagging thoughts in the back of your mind that something was still amiss.

What if he had taken you here just so no one would see you together?

What if he was ashamed to be with you?

“Billy?” The anxiety in your voice must have been obvious because you felt him tense up beside you.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“Nothing at all,” you half lied. “This is amazing. It’s just – are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“What?” The hurt in his tone tugged on your heartstrings. “No…no, why would you think that?” His other hand covered the top of yours, and he turned to face you. You could hardly make out his features in the dim glow of the city lights below you, but you could feel his concern tainting the atmosphere.

“I guess I expected a date to be somewhere more public. And when you took me to a hideout in the mountains, I was worried it was because you didn’t want anyone to know we were together,” you admitted, avoiding his eye contact. His warm hands squeezed yours just a little tighter.

“Hey, look at me,” he soothed. “That’s not what this is. I didn’t want anyone to interrupt us. I wanted to be alone, just the two of us, so we could talk. You know, have real conversations. I’m so tired of my dad, my coaches, Tommy, Troy, and everyone else breathing down my neck, criticizing every decision I make.” Billy cupped the side of your face, grazing your cheek with his thumb. “I don’t want anyone getting in the way of something that could be really, really good for me.”

Your scarlet flush returned at his reassurance. You never would have dreamed Billy could be so gentle, so emotional. But he wanted to be here with you, marveling at this beauty, and it was the start of something wonderful.

“I believe you. I’m sorry for assuming. I’m just not used to things like this,” you whispered. He closed the distance between you so that your noses were touching, and you could feel his breath against your lips – a cool, winterfresh breeze.

“Do you want to be together? Like, as a couple?” Billy almost seemed nervous to ask you, but you were elated, answering him without wasting another second.

“Yes. Of course, yes.” You couldn’t stifle your grin. You felt sunshine in your chest, and you didn’t know what else to say in that moment, but everything felt perfect.

Billy leaned in slowly, his lips connecting with yours in the sweetest of first kisses. Time slowed as the two of you connected, and nothing else mattered while you basked in his warmth, stars showering overhead as the town of Hawkins slipped into a slumber below you.

[futturmangamez]

What are you doing if you wake up with me on top of you like this??🤔

[ceilidho]

"take me home, country road" Pt.4 ask

JOHN PRICE IS DEFINITELY PLOTTING. I SWEAR TO FUCKING EVERYTHING THAT HE KNEW THE MOMENT HE SAW Y/N THAT SHE WASNT THE BRIDE HE ORDERED BUT HE WAS LIKE "I like this one better, mine now" AAAAAAHHHH

And can we please talk about he filled the bath up for her?! Screaming. (ACTS OF SERVICE FTW) MANS PLOTTING BUT THATS OKAY IM A WILLING VICTIM

im keeping it ambiguous as to whether he suspects anything or not :)) i think it's funnier that way....like is he actually completely ignorant about grabbing the wrong girl because he's an obstinate, single-minded man, or does he maybe have something of a clue but isn't truly interested in confirming it? the one thing ill say is he definitely doesn't know for certain - at the VERY least, he'd think there's a high probability that you're not the woman he was corresponding with, but since they never shared pictures, he doesn't truly know.

but also it's funny to think that he doesn't know and also doesn't care because he's too bull-headed.

he's sooooo touchy in this fic too like i can't stop him from constantly grabbing the reader character and kissing her forehead and lacing their fingers together like!!! he's SOOOO affectionate. surprised he didn't carry her over the damn threshold.

[uhohdad]

What would truly humiliate König (sexual style)? ;)

König loves being forced to eat his own cum :(

Especially if implemented when he breaks the rules, finishing too early or without permission. It never fails to turn him red in the face. When the degradation pairs with a scolding, he feels small, a feat only you could pull off.

Swiping two of your fingers across the mess he made on his stomach, ordering him to open up so you can drag his cum across his tongue, forcing him to clean your fingers over and over, stretching out his punishment until he’s swallowed every drop.

If he stains his underwear with his finish, he’s gagged with the crumpled and ruined fabric, the wet splotch settled right on his tongue, his whines and needy moans muffled until you’re satisfied.

If any of his cum gets on the floor, he’s ordered to get on his hands and knees and lick up his mess until it’s spotless. If he’s been extra disobedient, you press a gentle but firm shoe to the back of his head, smearing his mistake on his face.

If he can’t control himself while pleasuring you, finishing into your warm, tight cunt too early, he’s dragged between your thighs by his hair. He’s not allowed to pull away for air until he’s tidied his mess and corrected his failure - lapping at your arousal and his cum until you’re spasming on his greedy tongue. ♡

♡ KÖNIG DRABBLE MASTERLIST ♡

[buwheal]

*its an old Ecard featuring Garfield. There is a picture of Garfield commenting about his annoyance that its only midweek and the bottom text says "hang in there"*

[cordyce]

ao’nung the type of guy to have u sneak out of ur marui pod in an UNGODLY hour of the night just to take on a swim date to not have anyone around mhm and i have a lot to say abt this.......

⇢ WHISPERS & WAVES

ao’nung x gn!reader

includes: flirty ao’nung. sneaking out. fluff & shit.

notes: god he’s so aggravating i’d risk a scolding for him i really would. not proofread at all if u see mistakes then squint

you try to ignore it the first time. pretend you didn’t really hear it and simply doze back off.

"psst."

refusing to move from the comfort of your cot, you keep your eyes screwed shut and your body stiff so as to still appear asleep. after all, it is bad enough you have been stirred from your slumber, you aren't positive your family will take too lightly to being stirred from theirs.

"pssst!"

it's louder, this time, but yet you do not so much as twitch your toes. hopefully even if your family hears they will merely think it to be the wind brushing something against your shared marui pod. and, surely, your perpetrator would not keep this up if you did not give in to his pestering.

but you are very foolish to think that. and very, very wrong.

because he does not hiss out an alarm the third time, no. instead, a hand is wrapping around your ankle and tugging you across the woven floor, mat and all. your eyes dart open instantly, your body shooting up and hand flying to stop your late night intruder from his tugging on you. the scraping sound of his dragging halts immediately, and you flash a quick glance around your marui to clock the sleeping states of your family. thankfully, they still all seem settled into deep rest. a miracle, honestly.

"are you crazy?" you hiss, low and airy so as not to be heard.

"i knew you were awake," ao'nung simpers back, lets go of your ankle only to circle his grip around your wrist. "come on."

"it is the middle of the night, ao'nung." you do not hesitate to berate him, but you make no move to free yourself from his grip either. you wonder why you even play through this argumentative repetition anymore. maybe, it's to convince yourself that you do not hold these late night rendezvous at the same level he does.

(an incredibly false sentiment, regardless of how much mindless convincing you attempt to do).

"that's the point," he grins; wide and boyish and hopelessly endearing, as much as you hate to admit it.

but you must admit it—because it would be pointless not to—and you fault that disposition alone for not resisting one bit when ao'nung begins to pull you along by the wrist. all you're given is a split, shuffling second to glance back at your family before you're being whisked away down the netted pathways.

loosening up is easier with each footfall, and soon you don't even need ao'nung's persuasive vice to guide you along with him. you follow willingly, enticingly. your soles hit sand just as muted giggles begin to leave your mouth. ao'nung tugs at your tail, pinches at your waist as the two of you run across shore. breathy chuckles and dropped guards; you watch your volumes but not your hands.

night brings freedom—from analytical gazes, responsibilities, pressure. ao'nung likes the night, you have learned; thrives in it. perhaps another reason you find it so easy to give into him.

he sends a daring look over his shoulder as he begins to wade into the water. a taunt, a question. are you going to join me? you will join me, won't you? you will swim the seas with me until the sun burns out and night reigns forever and we are all that is left and—you will join me?

you will—you do. as soon as ao'nung turns back around to dive into the water you are rushing immediately after him. it's cold, chilling, against your skin as you break through it. but that does not mean it is unwelcome.

below the tide ao'nung greets you. he is still smiling, still keen, but it is softer. bubbles trickle from his lips to the surface like glitter chasing the heavens. he glistens and gleams and he is beautiful, here. you would not dare ever utter such a thing to his face for fear of it being held above your head for the rest of your adjoined lives. but it is truth and you stand by it, tuck it away into the crevices of your heart. within a file tagged: ma ao'nung alone, for only my eyes.

because this here, right now, is only for you, is it not?

ao'nung swims a circle around you, causes the ocean to spin you at its whim and you do not protest. you give way to see him like this; playful in the most innocent, pure sense. no animosity, so spite. you wonder if he even realizes how much of himself he gives away at times like these. if he's even aware he's baring bits and pieces of his soul to you.

you do not wish to complain and you will take all that you're given with outstretched hands and an ever-open heart. ao'nung is like the ocean: ruthless and unruly but strong and blanketing of all those held within him.

you have always been fond of the ocean.

his circling stops and he tips his head back up to the surface. more air, a need to breathe, he conveys. you've been so caught up in it all you hadn't even realized your chest had started to burn. funny, how such vital things can be pushed to the side.

you follow him, breach the sea and inhale until your lungs are satisfied. as you blink the water out of your eyes, you catch ao'nung's gaze. one beat, two beats—by the third you're laughing. at what, for why, you have no clue. but you aren't entirely sure there needs to be a comprehensible reason behind it.

it is warm and it is light, and that is enough.

"how about we play a game," ao'nung proposes. "whoever gets a shell from the ocean floor and makes it back to surface first wins."

"oh, you're so on," you snort, let a playful smirk tilt the edges of your lips. "do not cry too hard when i beat you."

"as if you could beat me," he snarks back, mirroring your grin, as he lines himself up with you. "go in three."

you narrow your eyes at him, splash a smidgen of water at his face just to vaguely throw him off his game. he splashes back, you do not fight it. you seem so drained of fight tonight.

"two."

ao’nung’s feet knock against yours underwater. an accident while keeping himself afloat, you know, but you still nudge him back with your own. his grin widens, you tip your head in a taunting manner.

"one."

now, in any other circumstance, one might expect ao'nung to be the cheating type. and, to be completely forthcoming, they'd be right. ao'nung is not a textbook cheater, you would say, but he knows his way about bending rules without causing the brittle decrees to break in order to turn the table in his favor. he likes to win, and he likes doing so by any means necessary.

but, that does not ring true in the case of you. ao'nung becomes a fair man within your presence. you like to joke that it's because he's scared of you, too afraid of what you might do in retaliation to his swaying. but you know that that is not the reason behind it at all. rather, he holds enough respect for you within his heart, that he would not try to pull your plug early. and you can't help but admire that.

especially now, as he even waits half a second after you take your dive to take his.

you know it will not make much difference and—despite your own competitive hunger to win—you know ao'nung could give you a five second head start and still best you easily. he is one of (if not the) strongest swimmers in your entire clan. you never had a fighting chance of winning, but you put on an act like you're trying to anyways, just to appease him.

you retrieve the first shell your hand grazes as you reach the bottom and instantly push off the sandy floor to race back to the top. and, just like you predicted, ao’nung is already a whole body’s length closer to air than you. his smile has turned triumphant, proud. you hate that you think it suits him.

you meet him above the waves only a few moments after he rises through them himself. he’s already opening his mouth for a tease before you even have the chance to move the sopping hair out of your eyes.

“what did you say, about beating me?” he goads, waving the shell he’s picked in front of your face. “i should have put some odds on the deal. what an easy win.”

of course it was, you want to say, but, “oh, shut it,” is what leaves your mouth.

you roll your eyes as you reach over to shove at his head. and he wastes no time in grabbing your arm, tugging you closer in the chilly water so that his chest brushes yours with every other flutter of your feet to keep you from sinking. his smirk is still there, still cocky and prideful and haughty, but his eyes twinkle with something more genuine in nature.

“why do you bring me out here, ao’nung?”

perhaps it is not something you should be so easily inclined to ask. not now, not when you are having such a good time with him. not while he’s got you so close. and yet, maybe that makes it the perfect time to ask such a thing. maybe, the heart finds it harder to lie when its pair is only separated by two inches of water and slanted ribs.

ao’nung’s snide expression falters; fizzles out like a star who’s died years ago and now it’s light has finally decided to dim. but it is not regretful, not bad.

it is more so contemplating, thinking of how to define its own existence.

“it is just… nice.” he juts out his bottom lip, drops his gaze from yours then back up. it’s so real, raw. he’s beautiful. “when everyone else is around, i get annoyed. they are all so nosy. and they—agh.”

he tries to throw his head to the side in a groan but you stop him. your hand molds to his cheek, brings him back to you. it’s almost comical, the pout on his lips.

“they what?” you ask, because you’d like to know. whatever it is.

and ao’nung takes a moment to chew it over. like he’s really having to think about if he really wants to tell you or not. (you think if he settles on not, you’ll just have to twist his ear until he agrees, but you don’t voice that just yet).

finally, he puffs out a breath. “everyone is just always looking. at you. at us. what we’re doing. and that’s just so…!”

“wait, you,” your eyes widen, the corners of your lips twitch up, “you’re shy!”

“i am not—“

“oh my eywa,” you laugh, wholly and totally uncaring of the volume of such now, “this is why you like to meet at night? when no one is around? that’s so—you’re so cute, ao’nung!”

“oh, i’ll show you cute,” he grumbles.

and suddenly you’re gasping as you’re being thrown back. a split second into the air before you’re splashing into the water. you’re all sorts of twisted around, but with a few passes of erratic thrashing, you make your way back up to the surface. you’re sucking in a breath as you hear ao’nung’s busting of a gut. you’re glad he finds nearly drowning you funny.

“oh now that,” he chuckles, reaches forward to sweep the mess of hair out of your eyes so that you can get the chance to glare at him properly. “that’s cute.”

“how do you somehow always end up spinning these things onto me?” you question, allowing him to pull you close once again, despite the chattering of your teeth.

“you just make it too easy,” he levels, pinching at your waist and laughing once more at how you jerk from it. and yet, you let him place your arms around his neck, don’t object to how he settles his own hands onto your hips submerged in the sea. how uncouth of you, your father might just be ashamed. but as ao’nung’s gaze softens, you can’t find it within yourself to care about his approval right now. “you make everything too easy.”

“why, prince ao’nung, are you flirting with me?” you ask through a faux gasp. and now it’s his turn to roll his eyes at you. but it is done lovingly, with a squeeze to your hips and another inch closer.

“i’m about to do a whole lot more than flirt,” he murmurs, darting his eyes to your lips, closing the gap that suddenly seems eons too far. light reflects off the droplets clinging to his lashes like a linear constellation, and you wonder if they’ll transfer across your cheeks as you let your eyes flutter shut with the first brush of his salty lips against your own.

moonlight tends to paint the prettiest pictures when it is veiling over tides and two young lovers, you think. beauty is forged among the whispers and waves.

likes & reblogs appreciated !

[whatwouldmickeydo]

(Accidentally deleted this ask while fighting for my life in the tumblr gif search but good thing I screenshotted this!)

Anyway...

You can’t keep a good hornball down! What's a little ass wound in the grand scheme of things?

And besides, Mickey told him to go easy on the injured cheek so that counts for something right? 😅

(Gif credits to our lord and savior @mickeygifs for this one, we worship at your altar)