#anyways not sure if this is cool or dumb. only one way to find out

[chinzhilla-main]

thank you mr. guzman for personally yanking me by the scruff of the neck back into this madness

[rainrot4me]

Eyeless Jack General Headcannons

Summary: Basic, SFW, and NSFW head-cannons. My personal thoughts, feelings, and opinions about Jack as a character.

TW: NSFW below the cut, minors dni! Above the cut is sfw! Mentions of gore

Words: 2.3k

A/N: NSFW is reader with female anatomy.

Basic:

- The definition of nonchalant, doesn’t convey his emotions very well at all so he lets his actions do the talking.

- Even though he may put on a front of being calculated and detailed, everything he does is purely instinctual or off the top of his head. He’s never made great plans or thought further on a problem than he had to, relying solely on time or for everything to work itself out. Ben calls it ‘thuggin it out’. He may seem all cool, calm, and collected- but really, he just doesn’t care.

- Drives a brown 1989 Ford F-250. Found it discarded on some old hunting grounds and spent the next 3 years learning about truck parts just to fix it up. It’s nothing pretty and the A/C doesn’t work half the time, but that doesn't stop the proxies from either stealing it for missions or Jeff cruising it to gas stations.

- Loves his alone time. If ‘Do Not Disturb’ was a living being.

- Incredible sense of smell, a blessing and a curse.

- Even though he doesn’t really feel emotionally tied to anyone or reliant on anyone's attention, he would never pass up a good conversation with Jeff or Toby. Finds their problems interesting (and funny).

- Even though he doesn’t have any eyes, he can still see. How? Who even knows? The demon would describe it as more of a viewing like he can detail everything that’s happening, but he can’t physically see it. Cryptic stuff even he’s too dumb to figure out.

- Despite everything, probably the most upkeep and clean member of the mansion. While eating organs and harvesting them can be messy, he doesn’t like the grime and prefers to clean off as soon as he can. The same goes for his clothes and room/office. Surprisingly tidy.

- Not as smart as he likes to present himself. Sure, he’s a medical student with more experience than anyone in a 50-mile radius, but that doesn’t mean he knows what he’s doing all of the time. Whenever the proxies roll in with serious injuries, the demon shoots them full of antibiotics, cauterizes the wound, and prays it doesn’t get worse from there. He knows what he’s doing, but that doesn’t mean he knows it’ll work 100% of the time.

- A silent panicker. Will absolutely tear his brain to shreds worrying or fighting with himself, but keep a stone look on his face the entire time. Gauging his emotions is like conversing with a brick wall.

- Dry humor. Absolutely will answer your long, emotional paragraph with a thumbs-up emoji.

- In some sick way, slightly prefers the life he’s living now. It may be grotesque and depressing, but his knowledge of the medical field and human bodies is infinitely more broad than it would’ve been. He quite enjoys the freedom he has now.

- Never happier than when winter is fizzling out and the first signs of spring show up. The warmth, the colors, the vibrancy coming back. He can’t get enough of it. Absolutely will get lost just studying the snow melting from the new flower beds.

- Locked in the basement of the mansion at all times. Only comes out to eat or on the rare occasion he’s assigned a mission. The only place he truly feels comfortable.

- Will get oddly emotional when light reflects on the lake just right or the fog settles on the ridge just perfectly. You’d never guess, but he’s a big poetic bum.

- Purrs. Like a cat. Ears flick around like one too.

- With music, he’s a big lyric listener. The song could sound absolutely terrible, but as long as he resonates with the words, will enjoy it anyway.

- Unorganized organization freak. Everything has a place, even if you don’t know where that place is.

- Seriously underestimates just how overtowering he is. He’s nowhere near Slender’s height, but the demon easily doubles in the average human’s vertical. When he was human he was taller, but never like this. He’s still getting used to it.

- Lanky but quick. Limbs and features are longer, but the muscle index makes up for it. He’s seriously fit, but everything is evenly distributed. Serious muscle definition in his arms and back, though. What he lacks in strength, he makes up in speed and agility.

- Enjoys Radiohead, Cigarettes After Sex, Paramore, and Three Days Grace. Will also never admit it, but really enjoy the Twilight soundtracks.

Dating Him/SFW:

“My pet…” “Little thing…” “Pretty thing…”

- Gift-giving love language. Loves to make you things unexpectedly and watch the surprise on your face. Steals jewelry or clothing from his victims to gift to you.

- It takes a lot for the demon to even consider you a friend let alone a potential love interest. But you best believe once he’s decided he wants you, that’s it. You take precedent, anything and everything else in his life takes a step back and you become the focal point. Heaven help if you ever change your mind about him.

- “My pretty thing… my lovely little pet… all mine…”

- Physically can not get enough of your smell. Whether it be sweet or sour, whatever emotion you dwell in, this demon will bury his nose into the crook of your neck and waste away there. It’s intoxicating to him, like an emotional tie he’s bound to.

- Like to study you. Your movements, your voice, the way you react to certain stimuli. Everything about you and your personality just intrigues him to no end.

- Possessive in the, ‘If they look at you, I’ll kill them’ way, but also is sure enough in himself and you to know he doesn’t need to go that far. Would rather lock you away for only him to see, but respects you too much.

- Has a deep-rooted fear of hurting you, so any fight or disagreement turns him distant. He’ll come back eventually, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be comfortable enough to get all touchy-feely again just yet.

- A lot like Edward from Twilight, he wants to taste you the most. It’s seriously a bad habit to nip at your skin or get lost in your scent because he knows how easy it would be just to take a chunk out of you. Has to be very aware and cautious of himself.

- Even though it took a long time for him to be comfortable enough to take his mask off around you, he still gets wildly conscious about it whenever you’re around. Loves nothing more than when you’re caressing his face or kissing his skin because he knows it's genuine.

- For a cannibal, he’s an insanely good cook. Will only cook for you, however. He says it's out of love, but really he knows deep down he wants to control what you eat so you have good organ health. You best believe he’ll have you hitting those core diet needs.

- Doesn’t sleep often, but when he does it's for long periods. The problem is, he likes to completely swallow you with his body and wrap around you, keeping you there until he eventually wakes up. Really enjoys the body heat you provide. Lowkey a small spoon.

- Slouches to your height.

- His favorite time is after a long day, curling up in a big chair with a book and you in his lap. You cocoon in his arms as he leans back, a blanket draped over the two of you. He’s naturally cold-blooded so he would stay there forever if he could.

- “You smell so good, pet… So good…”

- Talks in short, mumbled sentences. The mansion residents started using you as a translator because he would only say more than 3 words at a time around you.

- Absolutely never cared about how he looked before you. You taught him decent clothing styles and now he rocks the ‘dark academia/soft boy’ aesthetic like a champ.

- Made you your own special corner in his lab just because he couldn’t deal with having to be away while working.

- An intense kisser. It’s never soft pecks but full-on mouth-consuming makeouts. He’s a hungry guy who can only be satisfied if he feels like he’s swallowed enough of your tongue and lips with his own. Your lips and chin are absolutely soaked with slobber afterward.

- Firm believer in carrying you. No matter where or how far, he likes to bridal-style haul you around or have you latch onto his back.

- “I could eat you up. Just kidding… yeah…”

- Goes ridiculously insane when he can see the chubbiness on your thighs or stomach. You sitting down or lying out, you best believe he is fighting every demon internally not to take a massive bite on your skin.

Dating Him/NSFW:

- Again, skin. No better than a man during the dark times when you flash just a little too much leg or abdomen. He’s on you in seconds and clawing your clothes off to see more.

- You will never leave an encounter without cum dripping out of you. Refuses to get off anywhere else but deep inside of one of your holes. Call it a breeding kink but his animalistic tendencies just won’t let him pull out. Grunting and panting against your nape as he slams inside as far as he can to keep you from squirming away

- “You can take it, I know you can… Need you full of me… All of me…”

- A greedy kisser. Grabbing your jaw and fucking his tongues into the warm wetness of your mouth, teasing to just push them further past the tightness of your throat. Even when you squirm and gag, he just pushes them deeper, testing your resolve.

- You reach your breaking point longggg before he does. A couple of orgasms deep and he hasn’t even put his cock in yet, just milking your body for all it’s worth. It may be because he has a high sex drive, but it’s mainly because he gets off best when you’re pliable and numb to his touch. It’s a domination thing.

- A pussy worshiper. Much like his adoration for any organ, he really appreciates all of his knowledge of the female anatomy and how good he is at eating you out. If he can, or if you can take it, he’ll press all three of his tongues deep inside and spread your plush walls to his content. Likes to swap between focusing on your cunt and your clit, but mainly both at once.

- Bite marks galore. Has to be careful with how much blood he draws, but you’ll never get by without at least one good bite mark on your shoulder. Likes to possessively mark you all over just for others to see. Same feeling with claw marks.

- There’s some cognitive switch in his brain that flips when he gets to a certain point of desperation, like after not seeing you for a long period or after a particularly difficult day. It’s like a starved creature hungry and desperate for anything. He’ll ravage your body and mind, fucking you both to pure exhaustion or until he physically can’t cum anymore.

- On that note, ruts. They’re seasonal, usually coming around the first two weeks of spring and fall. He can’t control when they show up, but once started, they usually last 3 to 4 days, each day getting less intense. Since it’s such an animalistic ordeal, he loses all restraint or moral compass on how to treat you. Bites, blood, wounds, and injury are all possible. They’re not intentional, but he physically cannot control his mental or physical, blinded completely by lust. Thank god his sperm isn’t compatible with human anatomy, because that’s the only place he’ll cum.

- “I’m sorry- sorry, pet- Just one more time- just one more- Fuck- I promise-”

- Both ankles wrapped in one claw. Two claws overlapping around your waist. Yeah…

- Starts slow, so achingly slow you want to rut your hips and get him deeper. He likes the feeling of entering you, of spreading your plush cunt around his cock and finding its home deep inside. He’ll get faster eventually, but for now, he just wants to drink up the sights and smells of your desperation. That first gasp gets him every time.

- Mating press or nothing else. If you want to try something new, he’ll happily oblige, but the only way he’s truly happy is if your legs are pushed back to your shoulders and his hips are slamming down into yours. He’ll take the occasional doggy style, but only if his teeth are latched on to the back of your neck and holding you docile.

- Could watch your face come undone all day. Loves to see your eyes roll when you come, or the sweat and tears dripping off your cheeks. The dark flush of your skin gets him so hungry he has to physically restrain himself.

- “You’re so gorgeous- so fuckin’ pretty- Ah- Look at me. C’mon, don’t get shy now…”

- One time, after a particularly messy organ harvest, he couldn’t wait to get to you. He was so livid, body practically shaking with excitement when he snuck into your room that he didn’t even have time to clean himself off. Blood (not yours) stained your sheets and skin, messy claws dragging across your stomach and chest to coat you in dark red, his tongues quick to shoot out and lap at the stuff. You, covered in blood and his mess, sent him spinning. That was the fastest he’s ever came.

- Growling, panting, snarling, huffing, chittering, teeth gnashing, LOUD ASF

- Has a size thing. Comparing your hand to his makes him so horny and eager to just pick you up and fuck you. Admires how small and easy you are to just throw around like a doll.

- Absolutely has had sick fantasies of fucking your organs like a fleshlight. He’d never tell you, but the thought of cutting a slit in your abdomen to push his cock into the tangle of intestines and muscles makes him drool. He can almost imagine how warm it would be.

- Gets a high when you squirt. Feels accomplished to be covered in your juices and having you completely ruined for anyone but him.

- “You can take it for me, yeah? Go ahead and make a mess… It’s alright…”

Thanks for reading!

Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹

[lovebugism]

how abt eddie x shy reader , she meet’s wayne accidentally & she brings like sm food for the week he LOVES HER but shes so shy

a request deep from the archives that i haven't stopped thinking about since i got it hahah please enjoy xoxo — you spend a fluffy morning in with the munsons (established relationship, fluff, 1.2k)

bug's one year celebration ♡

Eddie rouses from his sleep like a king on a sunken-in couch. 

Saturday morning cartoons play on the TV just ahead of him, mostly on mute ‘cause you’ve got the radio going in the kitchen. Something soft and soulful and too low for him to hear. The trailer swells with the scent of something sweet, of syrup and cooked sugar. 

Speaking of sweet…

His flushed cheek rubs against the arm of the couch when he looks up to find you. He can see you just over the top of the counter, like a scene from a movie. You’ve got a bowl of something wedged in your elbow, and you stir at it with your free hand — half-distracted because your nose is stuck in an open recipe book on the counter. Your glasses fall slowly down your nose. You try to push them up again with your shoulder, but they slip back down a second later.

Your gentle humming fills his ears, and Eddie figures this is what heaven must be like. There’s no greater nirvana than this.

He rises and stretches and walks the very short distance to the kitchen. Still warm with sleep, he wraps himself around you, chest flush to the expanse of your back. “Whatcha doin’?” he lilts, muffled into your sweater.

“Cookin’,” you answer in the same tone, only softer and a little more sheepish.

Eddie breathes hard once. You think you feel him smiling. “Dumb question, huh?”

“Did you sleep good?” 

“Too good to be passed out on the couch for an hour.” He lifts his head to prop his chin on your shoulder. It bobs against you with every word. “You were supposed to be sleeping with me, by the way.”

“I tried. But then I wanted to make you breakfast.”

“Correction. You wanted to make Wayne breakfast.”

Your giggling is as soft and sweet as the cinnamon concoction you’re stirring at. “Well, I don’t want either of you to starve, actually. So sorry for making sure the Munson’s are taken care of.”

Eddie’s chest swells. His heart starts to warm so much he’s scared it might burst. He tucks his face back into your neck and holds you tighter. “Don’t apologize, sweet thing. ‘M just being stupid.”

“That nickname’s not gonna stick, Eds,” you tease, tilting your head until your cheek meets his wild hair. “You can stop trying now.”

He scoffs and pulls back from you. His eyes, still softly swollen with sleep, are wide and glittering. “Why not?” he shouts, a bit too loudly to be so close to your ear. “You’re sweet and you’re my thing— it’s literally the perfect nickname.”

“You’re thing?” you echo with a distant laugh. “I’m not a toy, Eds.”

“Not all the time—” His boyish giggling is followed by a scoffed breath when you elbow him with your free arm. You shove him away halfheartedly, pushing him out of the tiny kitchen. “What?!” he exclaims, laughing loudly.

“Get out of the kitchen!”

“What’d I do?”

“My french toast tastes good ‘cause it’s made with love, and you’re tainting it.”

“How? I love you more than anything in the whole wide world.” He gravitates back to you despite your efforts to keep him away. He plants a smacking kiss to your lips and grins wide when he pulls away. “See? Now it’ll taste extra sweet.”

You’re glaring at him one moment, then happily accepting another one of his kisses the next.

The front door opens, squealing in protest and rushing in the cool morning air. It’s unsurprisingly Wayne. His work boots stomp heavy on the carpet. He holds a greased hand over his forehead. “My eyes are still closed,” he jokes, voice deep and gravelly. “You two have about three seconds to stop touchin’ each other.”

Eddie scoffs but steps back from you anyway. “That was one time!” he argues boyishly. “And we weren’t even doing anything!”

Wayne laughs a sharp breath, just like Eddie had, but a little bit gruffer. He forgoes the petty banter and shoots you a smile — tightlipped, barely-there, and weighed down by the exhaustion of the graveyard shift. “How ya doin’, sweetpea?”

“Good,” you answer, shrinking into your shyness. “I’m makin’ french toast.”

“That’s my favorite,” the older man grins. “How’d you know?”

“‘Cause it’s my favorite,” Eddie insists.

“It’ll be done soon,” you tell him, all quiet in your sheepishness. “If you wanna get changed or whatever.”

Wayne heads to the hallway, stopping short in the kitchen to muss at Eddie’s curls and pat you gently on the shoulder. “Thank ya, sweetpea,” he murmurs, voice dripping with fatigue. His accent always gets real heavy when he’s tired.

“You’re welcome…”

Eddie doesn’t say anything until he hears the bathroom door shut. “So Wayne can call you sweetpea, but I can call you sweet thing?” he asks, features swirled with offense.

“It’s different!”

The boy follows you to the cabinets like a lost puppy. Then, when you have trouble reaching the vanilla extract on the top shelf, he leans over you to grab it. “No, you just have favorites,” he argues, passing you the small container.

“That’s not true!”

“Whatever,” he grumbles, still pouting as he leans against the counter beside you. He mourns the lack of your attention when you give it all to the french toast mixture on the counter. You spoon in the vanilla with a practiced touch. “…Are you staying over again tonight?” he mutters, shier than you are now.

“I don’t know,” you shrug. “If it’s okay with Wayne, then—”

“Wayne! Sweet thing’s staying the night— is that okay?” Eddie shouts before you can blink. The trailer rings with the volume of his voice.

“Eddie,” you scold quietly.

The bathroom door squeaks open. A grunt sounds from the hallway, a nonverbal answer you’re not totally sure what to make of. The man returns in the pajamas he pulled from the hall closet — a thin t-shirt older than Eddie is and a pair of plaid pants.

“I’ll make dinner before your shift tonight,” you tell him with a soft grin that neither of the Munsons can say no to. “I promise.”

Wayne makes another scoffing sound. A laugh, maybe. A smile hints at the corner of his bearded mouth as he pours himself a coffee across the counter — in the painted mug Eddie made him for Father’s Day, several years ago now. 

“Well— In that case, I’m afraid I have to insist on you stayin’, sweet pea.”

“Thanks, Mr. Munson.”

“Call me Wayne,” he tells you, playfully chiding in a parental sort of way. He gives you a pointed look over the cup he sips from and heads back towards the living room. “You’re feedin’ us too good to be so polite all the time.”

You smile to yourself and laugh a quiet, slightly forced laugh.

The sofa squeaks when Wayne settles onto it, sprawling out the same way Eddie had before. Too tired to reach for the remote on the coffee table, he watches He-Man re-runs with heavy eyelids.

“Alright, sweet thing— what do you need me to do?” Eddie asks with a clap of his hands, making a very pointed effort not to drop the nickname. You get all flustered when he calls you that — smiling softly to yourself and then ducking your gaze to hide it from him. You’ll have to pry the name from his cold, dead hands.

You turn to peer at him from beneath your lashes. “You dip the bread, and I’ll fry ‘em?”

“Sounds like a plan, sweet thing.”

“Eddie.”

[mercillery]

ASL BROTHERS WITH A SHY S/O

WARNINGS: GENDER NOT SPECIFIED + NOT PROOFREAD

CHARACTERS: Luffy + Ace + Sabo

NOTES: Do Luffy haters exist? It’s a dumb question, yes—but I’m genuinely curious. He’s so cute and dumb, I find it hard to not love him.

LUFFY

Luffy wouldn’t really “get” shyness in the conventional sense. But here’s the thing about Luffy: he’s all about accepting people as they are, no questions asked. He treats you with the same bright-eyed, wide-grinned enthusiasm he shows everyone. The idea of you needing to be more outgoing wouldn’t even cross his mind because, to him, you’re already perfect as you are. Shyness? Never heard of it. Just pass the meat, please.

Now, Luffy’s approach to social interactions is, well, 100% Luffy. He doesn’t really adapt his wild and carefree style to match anyone else’s comfort levels. If you're quiet and reserved, that’s cool—Luffy just goes on living life at full volume like it’s another Tuesday on the Sunny.

At first, you might be left wondering how in the seven seas you’re going to survive the endless hurricane of chaos that follows this rubbery captain around. But soon, and without realizing it, you start to find that his reckless antics and headfirst approach to life are... kind of charming. Sure, it’s like living next door to a tornado, but it’s a tornado that makes you laugh until your sides hurt and never lets you get too deep into your own thoughts.

What’s funny is that while he doesn’t actively try to make you feel more comfortable, he ends up doing it anyway. It’s his Luffy magic. You find yourself smiling more often, your shyness loosening its grip bit by bit as he does dumb stuff and throws himself into trouble that only Luffy would consider fun.

He’ll walk up to you, grin stretching from ear to ear, holding out some bizarre, questionably edible snack and say, “You gotta try this!” And just like that, the nerves you felt melt away—not because he’s making an effort to make you feel at ease, but simply because he’s himself.

And sure, sometimes his energy is a lot. We’re talking sprinting-across-decks, yelling-about-meat kind of “a lot.” But in the middle of all that noise, you come to realize that you feel safer and more at ease when you’re around him. Why? Because Luffy has this way of making everything fun and natural, and soon enough, that includes you too.

Before long, your shyness isn’t something you worry about around him; it’s just another thing Luffy accepts without blinking, like it’s the most normal thing in the world. And in his eyes? It is.

It’s cute because you two really are like the sun and the moon, with Luffy as the blazing, never-stopping sun, and you being the more reserved, quiet moon. It’s like a cosmic duo—he’s all light and energy, and you’re the calm, cool reflection of it all. You balance each other out in the weirdest, most wonderful way.

And when people catch wind of the fact that Luffy is dating someone—let alone someone as shy as you—it’s like watching a cartoon character’s eyes bug out of their head. Yeah, they’re not wrong to be surprised, but Luffy doesn’t care. He’s already busy thinking about what’s next on the agenda, probably involving meat or some kind of treasure hunt.

Luffy is anything but shy. He could probably talk to a rock and think it’s the best conversation he’s had all day. So when it comes to affection, he’s not exactly one to shy away from it. He might not be the clingiest partner out there—he’s not going to be hanging off you like a koala (okay, maybe sometimes)—but you can bet he’s there, always.

Whether it’s randomly giving you a hug in or tossing his arm around your shoulder like it’s no big deal, he’s just Luffy—and that means showing affection wherever and whenever he feels like it, no matter who’s watching. Basically, he’s like a “here’s my arm, it’s yours now” kind of guy.

While Luffy doesn’t exactly get what makes you shy, he’s surprisingly good at picking up on your feelings. If you’re feeling anxious, or if you’re shrinking back into your shell a little bit, Luffy has this unbelievable ability to sense when you need a change of pace. Without even thinking about it, he’ll grab your hand and drag you off on some wild adventure, just to get your mind off things.

He doesn’t even need a reason—he just knows that you could use a distraction, and he’s the perfect person to provide it. Besides, that just gives him more time to spend with you! And, of course, he might offer you one of his beloved snacks or a full meal if you’re feeling off. Seriously, do you know how big that is? Luffy parting with his food is like a miracle in itself, so if he’s offering it to you, you better believe you’re special.

And let’s talk about the food thing for a sec. Do you even realize how big of a deal it is that Luffy shares his food with you? Like, do you know how many times he’s turned down offering a bite of his meat to anyone? Probably never. So when he hands you a piece of his prized food, you know it’s a huge honor. We’re talking sacred territory here.

If you ever doubted your place in Luffy’s heart, just remember: he shares his food with you. That’s a level of trust and affection that not even the grandest feast can outdo. Trust me, you’ve got a special place in his world, and it’s right next to the meat and maybe a little bit of the chaos.

Luffy’s naturally the type of guy who’d include you in absolutely everything—because why wouldn’t he? To him, you’re part of the crew, part of his world, and that means he’s going to drag you into every single bit of it.

You’d be minding your own business, maybe sitting quietly with your book or trying to sneak in a nap, when suddenly—BAM! Luffy's in front of you, grinning like a madman, already talking about the next big adventure or game that everyone’s playing. “C’mon, join us!” he’d say, and before you could protest, he’s already tossing you into the mix.

It’s not that he’s forcing you to join, though—Luffy just has this way of making you feel like you should be there, without ever putting you on the spot. His carefree, inclusive attitude makes it feel like the natural thing to do. You never feel pressure; you just feel... valued. Like you belong, whether you’re quietly cheering from the sidelines or joining in with your own brand of awkward enthusiasm.

It’s like Luffy’s energy is so contagious that you can’t help but want to be part of whatever insane thing he’s cooking up that day, even if it’s just watching him eat his weight in food and making random, nonsensical decisions.

If anyone ever crossed the line with you—teased you, made you uncomfortable, or said something that got under your skin—Luffy would flip the script faster than you can blink. That goofy, carefree grin would disappear in an instant, replaced by a rare, uncharacteristically serious expression.

Suddenly, he’s standing right in front of you like a human shield, ready to take down anyone who dared upset you. He’s usually a chaotic force of nature, but mess with his loved ones, and that’s when you see a side of him that is all about protecting you.

He wouldn’t hesitate to confront the person, his voice firm and unwavering. “Hey! That’s not cool! You don’t mess with my crew!” He’s not one for subtlety or second-guessing, so you’d know right away that Luffy’s on your side. If someone’s being rude or making you feel small, he’ll make sure they know they’ve messed with the wrongggggg person.

The crew’s used to this by now—because Luffy, despite his childish nature, would go to the ends of the earth to defend the people he cares about. You’d feel like the most important person in the world in that moment because, in his eyes, you are.

Luffy’s loyalty is on another level entirely. Once he’s decided he cares about someone, they’re in—no questions, no conditions, just pure, unfiltered loyalty. If you’re lucky enough to be someone Luffy loves, you’d know it in every grin, in every spontaneous gesture, and in every single, joyfully shouted “Let’s go!” You’d never have to second-guess where you stand with him, because Luffy’s affections are as clear as day, as honest and unwavering as the sea he dreams of conquering.

So whether you’re officially part of his crew or not, in his mind, you’re always one of them, and he’d tell anyone who’ll listen, “Yeah, they’re with me!” with a pride that’d make your heart swell.

The best part? Luffy would constantly invite you to tag along on whatever wild journey or ridiculous stunt he’s about to pull. There’d be no hesitation; it’d be, “Hey! Let’s go on an adventure!” as if going on an impromptu quest was as simple as taking a stroll to the market. It’s almost like Luffy has this unspoken rule: every exciting, crazy, fun thing has to be experienced with you.

From treasure hunts that end up in unexpected fights with sea kings to races through bustling ports (where he definitely has no idea where he’s running but is laughing the whole time), Luffy wants you there, right in the middle of it all. You’d probably sigh at the thought of jumping headfirst into another unpredictable situation, but Luffy’s enthusiasm is like a gravitational pull—it’s impossible to resist.

And thank goodness for that, because your timid self wouldn’t stand a chance at taking the lead in any of these wild endeavors. Luckily, Luffy’s the type to charge forward, dragging you along by the hand with zero doubts and zero plans. He makes all the decisions for both of you, which, sure, sometimes means ending up lost on an island full of very angry, very large monkeys because, “They looked friendly!”

You’d feel a mix of exasperation and endearment at his antics. He doesn’t realize it, but his willingness to be the fearless leader—even if his plans are sometimes made with the strategic prowess of a rubber chicken—takes the pressure off you. You don’t have to stress over decisions or worry about whether you’re doing the right thing, because Luffy’s already ten steps ahead (probably literally sprinting) and dragging you along with a confidence that borders on reckless.

And honestly? That’s part of the charm. His “plans” might be half-baked and a little foolish, but he makes up for it by being completely and unapologetically himself.

You’d find yourself smiling more than you ever expected, getting swept up in the whirlwind that is Luffy, and realizing that being with him means never feeling alone, even if you’re quiet or shy.

His laughter, his outbursts, and his impulsive decisions would all become things you cherish, because with him leading the way, life feels a little less scary and a lot more exciting.

ACE

Ace is all warmth and energy, like a bonfire on a chilly night, and he’d go out of his way to make sure you feel comfortable in his presence. Despite his natural tendency for excitement and spontaneity, he’d be mindful of your shyness, making a conscious effort to dial down the volume when needed.

You’d catch him lowering his voice a bit, softening his laughter, or even sitting a little closer with a reassuring grin. His laid-back nature would do wonders for your anxiety, melting it away bit by bit like ice under the sun. He’d take a more casual, playful approach when he’s with you, balancing his liveliness with a kind of gentle attentiveness that makes your heart feel at ease.

Ace has a knack for starting conversations, even if the topic is completely random. He’d sense your hesitance and jump in without skipping a beat. “Did I ever tell you about the time I tried to cook for the crew and accidentally set a whole forest on fire?” he’d start, eyes twinkling as he watches your reaction.

His stories are always ridiculous—stories of clumsy mishaps, epic pranks gone wrong, or that one time he fell asleep mid-battle. You’d find yourself laughing in spite of yourself, the tension in your shoulders easing as you realize he’s making himself the butt of the joke, just to make you feel more at ease. He’d keep talking until he sees that spark of amusement in your eyes, and then keep going, his smile growing wider every time you giggle.

And Ace’s teasing? Oh, he’d be a master of that fine line between making you laugh and making you blush. He’d lean in, smirking just enough to be charming, and say, “What’s this? A smile? I knew it was in there somewhere.” His playful comments would come with a wink and a laugh, just enough to make your face warm, but never enough to make you feel like you’re being put on the spot.

If he ever saw you growing quiet or noticed that hint of panic in your eyes, he’d immediately back off, switching to a softer tone and throwing in a quick “I’m just messing with ya” followed by that disarming grin of his.

Ace would be incredibly in tune with your reactions, watching for the tiniest signs that you’re feeling overwhelmed. The moment he picks up on it, he’d change gears—maybe suggesting a quiet spot on deck where you could sit together and watch the stars, or offering to take a walk to get some fresh air. He’d brush off the seriousness with a light, “Hey, it’s just us. No pressure, alright?” The way he says it makes you feel safe, like it’s just you and him against the world, no expectations or worries allowed.

Ace is the definition of a warm hug in human form, so being a tactile person comes naturally to him. But when it comes to you, he’d show an impressive amount of restraint—not an easy feat for someone who’d usually throw an arm around a friend without thinking twice. Well, you’re not just his friend but his lover, obviously—but what I’m getting at us that he’s a pretty affectionate guy.

He’d start small, easing you into it with light touches: a friendly pat on the shoulder when you share a joke, a playful ruffle of your hair that would leave you smiling and maybe a little flustered. You’d catch the subtle glances he’d shoot you afterward, as if he’s silently checking, Was that okay? Did that make you uncomfortable? It’s endearing how he’s so in tune with your comfort level, his natural affection turned into a gentle dance of patience and care.

As time went on and your confidence around him grew, Ace would start to introduce more meaningful touches. He’d sneak in side hugs when you’re sitting together, leaning into you with that easygoing smile of his that made your heart race. And when the day finally came that you leaned into him on your own, whether it was out of exhaustion or just because you felt safe, the soft, proud look on his face would be priceless.

Ace would make a big deal out of it in the quietest way possible, his hand finding yours in a reassuring squeeze as if to say, Hey, look at you, being brave. Eventually, he’d graduate to full-on snuggling when you were comfortable, and the first time he wrapped you in his arms and pulled you close, you’d know just how deeply he cared.

And when social situations become too much—because let’s face it, Ace has a lot of friends and a magnetic personality that draws people in—he’d be the first to notice if you’re starting to feel overwhelmed.

In those moments, he’d spring into action without making it obvious. He’d tell a ridiculously over-the-top story, one that would steal the spotlight from everyone else and have the whole room’s attention fixed on him, leaving you a moment to breathe.

Ace would always throw himself into being the distraction, whether it meant cracking jokes or reenacting a failed stunt that ended with him pretending to trip over his own feet. He’d shoot you a quick wink in the middle of it, as if to say, See? I’ve got you.

It’s not that he wanted to be the center of attention—okay, maybe a little, but only when it’s for you.

He’d take on the role of court jester, chaos-maker, or even reluctant hero if it meant taking the pressure off you for a while. If anyone questioned it, he’d brush it off with a laugh and a shrug, all while keeping an eye on you to make sure you were okay.

And if things really got too much, Ace wouldn’t hesitate to steer you away from the noise altogether, leaning in close and saying, “Let’s get outta here for a bit, yeah?” He’d lead you somewhere quieter, a hand on your arm or fingers interlaced with yours, the simple touch grounding you as you walked.

You’d both end up somewhere peaceful, maybe under the stars or by a flickering campfire, where he’d wrap an arm around your shoulder and say, “You don’t have to explain. Just take your time.” And you would, with the steady thump of his heartbeat right next to yours, knowing he’d take on the world just to make sure you felt comfortable and safe.

Ace would be your number one cheerleader, hyped beyond belief over every little victory you achieved. You managed to say something in a group conversation? He’d beam at you like you just solved world peace. “Look at you go! You’re amazing!” he’d shout, probably a bit louder than necessary, with that signature grin that lights up his entire face.

If you reached out to touch his arm or, heaven forbid, initiated a hug, there’d be a solid five minutes of him staring at you in delighted disbelief before breaking out into an excited, “Did you just—? You did! You did!”

What you might not notice is that whenever you step even half a toe out of your comfort zone, Ace is in the background punching the air with all the subtlety of an over-caffeinated kid at a birthday party.

It doesn’t matter if it’s a tiny thing, like making eye contact with someone new, or a big step like saying a few words in front of the crew—Ace is celebrating it like you just discovered the One Piece itself.

He might look a bit unhinged to anyone passing by, but he’s never cared about that. You’re his person, and your wins are his wins. He’s just out here being the proudest guy alive, punching invisible foes and mouthing, That’s my partner!

And the way he looks at you? It’s like you’re the most priceless treasure in the world, and not just in the fleeting, pirate-wants-your-gold way. No, Ace’s gaze is full of warmth and genuine awe, the kind that makes you feel like you’re wrapped in a blanket of sunshine.

When you speak, whether it’s a confident statement or a hesitant mumble, Ace is all ears. His eyes would fix on you with this almost comically serious expression, nodding along like you’re revealing some ancient, life-altering secret.

You could point to the sky and say, “That’s the sky,” and he’d respond with a deep, earnest nod and a wide grin, “Exactly! I love that you noticed!” The rest of the crew might shake their heads and mutter things like, “Here they go again,” but Ace doesn’t care. If it matters to you, it matters to him—simple as that.

It doesn’t matter how mundane your observation is or how shyly you say it; to Ace, every word is golden. He’d hang on every syllable as if you were weaving a tale worthy of a bard’s song. You’d catch him repeating things you said back to you later, just to show he’d remembered, saying things like, “Oh yeah, like you said the other day, the sky really was a perfect blue.”

It’s almost ridiculous, but that’s Ace—he’d make you feel like every tiny thing you did was extraordinary, because in his eyes, it truly is.

SABO

Sabo is the calm breeze compared to the whirlwinds that are Luffy and Ace, which makes him the perfect blend of approachable and comforting.

With his natural ease and warm, diplomatic demeanor, you’d find yourself feeling more at peace around him sooner than you’d expect. Sabo’s the kind of person who could have a conversation with anyone, but when he’s with you, you’d feel like you’re the only one in the world that matters.

He’s just got this knack for making everything feel safe, like he’s a sturdy anchor in a storm. If you ever started to feel overwhelmed, Sabo would be the first to notice, with a quiet attentiveness that doesn’t scream I’m watching you but more like I’m here if you need me.

He’d be a master of subtlety, paying close attention to what made you nervous and what helped you open up, all without making it seem like he was analyzing you. You’d catch him making mental notes when you shifted uncomfortably or lit up at something specific. He’s probably like, “Write that down, write that down!” in his head.

And he’d use those observations to make your interactions more comfortable. If he noticed that certain topics or big crowds made you anxious, he’d steer conversations towards lighter things or find a reason to take a quiet walk somewhere less crowded.

Sabo would never rush you into sharing more than you were ready for. He understands that trust is built slowly, like adding logs to a fire, not dumping gasoline on it and hoping for the best.

Sabo would show his affection in the most considerate ways, taking into account what you’d find comforting rather than overwhelming. That being said, grand and dramatic gestures aren’t his style when it comes to you; he’d save those for his other acts of rebellion.

With you, he’d stick to smaller, more intimate actions. He’d brush his fingers across yours before holding your hand, always making sure it was welcome. He’d lean in a little closer when you’re talking, eyes fixed on you with that soft, attentive gaze of his that makes you feel like you have all the time in the world.

There’d be moments when he’d reach out with a light touch on your arm, or just the simple press of his shoulder against yours when you sat side by side, enough to let you know he was there but never too much to make you uncomfortable.

It’s like he has a sixth sense for what was just the right amount of closeness. And if you ever looked unsure or nervous, Sabo’s eyes would catch yours, full of warmth and encouragement, like he was silently saying, Take your time, I’m not going anywhere.

The patience he’d show would be unmatched; you could almost hear him mentally cheering you on even if you were just picking your words slowly or taking a deep breath before saying something important.

And the way he’d support you? Subtle but powerful. If you ever found yourself second-guessing or fumbling, he’d quietly step in to help redirect the conversation or offer a reassuring comment. “I think that’s a great point,” he’d say with genuine enthusiasm, giving you that extra boost of confidence.

And when you’d catch him watching you speak, the look in his eyes would always be one of admiration—never judgment, never pressure, just pure, patient support. And whether it’s a simple chat or a quiet walk together, Sabo’s presence would be your reminder that you’re valued, seen, and cherished, just as you are.

When it came to conversations, Sabo would be your guy for deep, meaningful talks, but with a healthy dose of humor to keep things light. He’d pick the coziest, quietest corner on the ship or at a café, leaning in with a thoughtful smile and saying, “Alright, you ready to hear some top-secret stories about Ace and Luffy’s greatest flops?” And he’d be off, recounting tales of Luffy trying to eat something he really, really shouldn’t have or Ace’s legendary nap times that ended in near-disaster.

His stories are designed not just to make you laugh, but to remind you that even these larger-than-life brothers were and still are total dorks sometimes. And before you know it, you’re easing into sharing a few of your own stories, prompted by his gentle encouragement and the safety his presence provided.

If there was ever a moment where you hinted at wanting to join in on an activity or step outside your comfort zone, Sabo would light up like someone just told him there was free cake on deck. But instead of jumping up and down and looking crazy, Sabo’s celebration would be the dignified, internal kind.

Picture a boardroom in his mind filled with 10 tiny Sabos all jumping out of their chairs, high-fiving each other, and throwing confetti in the air. On the outside, he’d just offer you that calm, reassuring grin and a simple, “You’ve got this. And if not, we’ll laugh about it later, yeah?”

He’d be your biggest silent cheerleader, always ready with a patient hand to guide you or a subtle nudge if you needed it. If you wanted to join in on a game or join a conversation but hesitated, Sabo would seamlessly include you, making it feel natural and not like he was pointing out your shyness.

He’d say things like, “Hey, I think Y/N would be perfect for this—what do you think?” and then shoot you a wink that says, See? Not so bad, right? And when you took that first step, whether it was a comment or a hesitant laugh at a joke, Sabo’s inner cheering squad would be losing their collective minds.

So while Ace might be punching the air and Luffy would probably shout, “You did it!” at full volume, Sabo would play it cool—at least on the outside. But don’t be fooled. The minute he see’s you trying something new or making a move outside your comfort zone, those 10 tiny Sabos in his head would be throwing a full-on carnival, complete with fireworks and dancing.

And he’d just keep giving you that look that said, You’re amazing, and I’m so proud of you. Because to him, you’re always worth celebrating, no matter what.

If there’s one thing Sabo doesn’t tolerate, it’s someone messing with the people he cares about. So if he spotted you feeling uncomfortable or noticed someone trying to be intimidating, he’d swoop in with the subtlety of a master diplomat. Sabo wouldn’t make a scene, but instead, he’d redirect the situation like an absolute pro.

Maybe he’d throw out a well-timed joke, ask a question that shifts the focus, or suddenly develop an urgent need for your opinion on something random, like, “Hey, didn’t you say you know a lot about… apples?” The offender would be left blinking, and you’d find yourself in a new conversation before you even realized what happened. Crisis averted, all thanks to Sabo’s suave social maneuvering.

And then there’s Sabo’s sweeter side—his covert operation of affection. He knows that grand, dramatic proclamations can sometimes make you want to dive head-first into the nearest bush, so he’s perfected the art of subtle, heartfelt gestures.

He’d leave little handwritten notes tucked in places he knows you’ll find, maybe in your favorite book or slipped under your plate at breakfast. Each note would be filled with the kind of genuine, thoughtful words that would make your heart do an embarrassing little flip. They’d say things like, I know you’re stronger than you think, and I can’t wait for the world to see it, too, or The stars were beautiful last night, but not as much as seeing you smile today.

And don’t even get started on the letters. Oh, the letters. Sabo would write you these intricate, beautifully crafted notes that read like they came straight from the heart of a poet who’s just returned from a victorious battle.

He could have just finished a day of intense Revolutionary Army missions, covered in dust and exhaustion, but you’d still get a note that starts with, Hey, you. I’m thinking about you, and ends with some metaphor about how your presence makes the world brighter, even when he’s knee-deep in chaos.

You’d find trinkets, too—maybe a small charm he found that reminded him of you or a pressed flower from somewhere he thought was pretty. It’s the little things that would make your day and remind you that, no matter what chaos he’s wrapped up in with the Revolutionary Army, you’re always on his mind. And when you’d look up at him, cheeks flushed from finding yet another one of his notes or small gifts, Sabo would just grin that charming, lopsided grin and say, “Did you find it? Good. I meant every word.”

He’s protective, thoughtful, and romantic in a way that feels like it’s tailored just for you. And even if he’s balancing the weight of revolutions and strategic plans, Sabo makes sure you know that you’re not just part of his life—you’re the best part.

[moonstruckme]

Ok James but him and his slytherin girlfriend seem to come out of nowhere and the boys are supportive but are more mad at James for not telling them? Idk I loved your other fic SO MUCH

Thanks for requesting <3

part 1

cw: mention of injury, no details or anything though

James Potter x Slytherin!reader ♡ 1.5k words

You hesitate outside the doorway to the infirmary at the raised voices coming from inside. 

You don’t need to be here, strictly speaking. James told you his injury wasn’t bad, and he has his friends to help him if he needs it, but…you can’t settle yourself down. You hadn’t liked the way he’d limped off the field, nor the tiny grimace on his face when Sirius had wrapped a bracing arm under his shoulders. It would be just like James to downplay how hurt he is to make you feel better, and the longer the game had gone on without him the more your guts twisted themselves into knots over the idea that he was in pain. 

You’d seethed at yourself and your stupid soft heart all the way to the infirmary, where now you’re frozen just outside like a coward. Something inside you is coiled tight with tension at the idea of going to see James Potter, on purpose and in public, even though that’s dumb because now everyone at Hogwarts knows about the two of you anyway. Your sappy display on the quidditch pitch made sure of that. But now that you have official and widely-known claim to the girlfriend title, you have just as much right to see him as anyone else. You shove your anxiety back into your stomach where it belongs and open the door. 

As soon as you’re inside, the voices become clearer. “—like this isn’t a big deal. The Prophet’s going to be all over the two of you by tomorrow, and we had to find out with every other fucking bloke at the school!”

“Pads, you don’t think I would have told you if I could?” James sounds exhausted, and something mutinous throbs in your heart. It’s followed quickly by the more familiar twinge of irritation at the use of those moronic nicknames they all have. “She made me promise not to tell anyone, including the both of you.” 

They’re talking about you. Of course they’re talking about you. What else could possibly be more important after James has fallen a good twenty feet off his broom than his dating life? This is why you hadn’t wanted to tell people. Hogwarts wears away at private lives like dementors at souls, and the rivalry between Gryffindor and Slytherin is too strong for your relationship with James to have any hope of remaining untainted once the gossip mill got ahold of it. 

Your instincts are screaming at you to turn around and leave before they catch sight of you, but you force yourself to keep walking. If you start letting what people think about you and James affect you now, you’ll never be able to get past it. 

Remus is the first to spot you, going still as if you’ve come to hex him, but James’ face splits into a lopsided grin that has the knots in your gut loosening very slightly. 

“Especially you,” you say to Sirius as you brush past him, perching by James' pillow and weaving your fingers into his curls. There’s a wrap around his middle. It’s very hard to appear calm and blasé when you feel like you’re going to rupture something if he doesn't promise you he’s okay right this instant. “You’d have had all of Gryffindor talking about us within an hour.” 

Sirius bristles but visibly shoves his temper aside, his voice matching your coolness as he says, “If I’d told anyone, Y/L/N, it would have been to inquire about whether anyone’s noticed you gathering ingredients for amortentia recently. James doesn’t keep things from us. Artificial infatuation is the only explanation for why he’d tolerate you and your secrets.” 

“Oi,” James says, but you pat his head placatingly. You can fight your own battles. 

“That how you got this one?” you jut your chin towards Remus, who’s looking somewhat entertained as he watches the two of you spar. “If I’m ever in need of the recipe, Black, you’ll be the first person I come to, but I don’t need to resort to such measures myself.” 

Sirius glowers at you, and James sets his hand on your shoulder just as Remus wraps a pacifying arm around his boyfriend. “Alright, I think that’s enough,” the taller boy says in his usual calm manner, and though Sirius is still tensed for a fight, he allows himself to be drawn into Remus’ side.

James nods in agreement. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys, really. I thought I’d get a chance to before everyone found out, but…” He turns up his palms helplessly. “Things didn’t go as planned.” 

“We’ll get over it,” Remus says, Sirius quietly fuming beside him. “Won’t we, love?”

Sirius looks up at Remus' face, which is clearly a mistake, because he softens like butter in the sun. “Yeah, yeah, just gimme a bit,” he grumbles halfheartedly. “Anything to keep our Prongsie happy, right?”

James beams, so clearly relieved at the settlement of the conflict that you feel a bit guilty for participating in it. He kisses you on the cheek, chuckling against your skin. “You stink.” 

“Some of us stuck around to play the whole game,” you reply.

“Ouch,” James says, but he’s grinning. “Couldn’t really help that, could I?”

You give him a look to let him know you haven’t forgotten how his negligence had gotten him hurt. “Debatable.” 

You hear Remus chuckle but don’t take your eyes off James’ face, inspecting it for signs of the pain you suspect he’s hiding. “How bad is it really?” you ask, softening your voice even though there’s no chance of his friends not hearing you. 

James worries his lip, big brown eyes looking into yours guiltily. “Pomphrey says I broke three ribs and bruised my tailbone pretty badly. Minor concussion, too, but nothing serious.” 

Sounds serious enough to you. You ghost a hand over the back of his head as if you’ll be able to find and fix his hurt. He leans into your palm though, so it’s not for nothing. “I’m sorry I walked away out there,” you all but whisper. “I should have stayed with you.” 

James eyebrows pinch together. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” he promises just as softly. He knows what it costs you to talk like this in front of people, like you’re turning yourself inside out for them to judge and stab at as they please, but James has no such reservations. He dots a kiss, feather-light, at the top of your cheekbone, wrapping an arm around you protectively. “Thanks for coming, I mean it.” 

You clear your throat. “Yeah, and in my fucking quidditch gear,” you say in your normal voice, attempting to banish the heavy mood. As if your heart isn’t still beating, hummingbird-fast and fragile, in your throat. “We both need to change and shower, and then you should rest. Did Pomphrey say you could leave?”

James nods, still looking at you like you’ve cracked open in his hands (he might be right; it feels like you have, and it wouldn’t even be the first time today). He rubs your upper arm affectionately, but his voice is easygoing when he says, “Yup, I’m good to go.” 

Sirius steps forward, as though to remind the two of you that he is, in fact, also present. “Great. We’ll walk you back to the room.” 

You turn to him, not quite ready for your time with James to be up and aching for the opportunity to dote on him in private. “That’s okay, I can take him.” 

Sirius’ eyes narrow. “You can’t even get into our dorms.” 

“Please, like Gryffindor’s riddles are so perplexing.” 

“I don’t need an escort,” James interjects. He pushes himself up with a grimace. 

You halt him with your hands on his shoulders and Remus says, “Don’t be stupid, Prongs, you can barely walk.” 

“I’ve got him,” you say firmly. Sirius stares you down, but you don’t flinch from his stony gaze. You know he doesn’t trust you. You don’t think he’d willingly trust any Slytherin. Since you’ve been at Hogwarts, the talk in your house has always been that Sirius Black shuns his family because they’re all Slytherins. Although James assures you there’s more to the story than that, it’s still obvious to anyone that he considers his friends his true family. He won’t entrust just anyone with James’ safety. But maybe that’s one thing you can agree upon. 

He must see something of this in your face, because after a minute Sirius relents, rolling his eyes. “Fine,” he says. “I wanted to stop by the kitchens anyway.”

James is looking between the two of you curiously, aware that something has transpired but not quite sure what. 

You don’t give Sirius a chance to change his mind. “Alright,” you say, gripping James' forearms and helping him to stand. “Let’s go, pretty boy.” 

James drapes his arm across your shoulders gamely, and the two of you start out the door. “I don’t think that’s the insult you think it is.”

[ramblinscramblin]

I know you only have one post rn but hsgagshagaghssgahsh I love how you write😭

Anyways, giving you a request since I'm already here :)

Reader who really likes Scout's whole clumsy way of flirting. He's like "I got a bucket of chicken" and the reader is just "😍😍😍😍". Or he stumbles over his words when flirting and thinks he's made a fool of himself, meanwhile the reader is basically swooning right next to him.

Bonus points if Spy is observing this all and is just like:

→Reader who enjoys Scouts awkward flirting!

Genre: Fluff!

Characters: Scout tehe

THANK U FOR THIS. This is incredibly real, he is so so so silly.

Scout

Scout took immediate interest in you.

He couldn’t place exactly what it was about you that just made you instantly attractive.

But it was because of his immediate interest that made him such a colossal disaster in front of you.

He just cannot stop, making a fool out of himself. Going to great and insane lengths to try and impress you, literally getting blown up on the battlefield to try and show you a cool jump he can do.

You find is so so endearing and funny, you always laugh at his silly attempts at impressing you.

He mistakes this as genuine malicious intent, thinks you’re making fun of him and feels like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Hey Scout,” you greet one day, feeling a little bold.

Scout straightens in an instant, now was his chance to put the moves on you, make or break time scout.

“Oh! H-hey. Yeah, wassup,” he says before sniffling “you wanna see my baseball cards?” He says abruptly, already mentally berating himself.

You chuckle a little, and he deflates feeling like human garbage. You bump his shoulder with your arm “sure. That sounds fun,” you say with a smile.

He immediately perks up, shows you his nerdy card collection for way too long. Worries the whole time that you think it’s dumb, really cannot tell if you’re making fun of him.

Spy really does not help his anxiety, makes fun of his attempts extremely outwardly, really confused on why you keep coming around…

After watching a few more of your interactions he is appalled to find out that you actually like him back.

Does not let Scout in on this realization.

Him watching you full send the most intense signals to Scout that you’re interested and it’s just soaring over his head causes him physical pain.

“Hey Scout, I was wondering if you wanted to show me your baseball card collection again?” You asked one day, Spy secretly watching from a nearby corner.

“You wanna see it again? I haven’t got anymore,” he says.

You shrug “oh? That’s a shame, I was looking forward to having you all to myself today,” you simper leaning into him.

He’s already told himself that you’re so not interested (plus he’s got a complex from how hard he was rejected from Pauling) so he hardly even flinches “oh well. Next time ‘den I’ll have sumthin’ new to show.”

Spy face palms, mumbling about how dumb he is as he sneaks away.

You find it really endearing though, total heart eyes over this dumbass.

Eventually when you finally stop torturing him and tell him how you feel he’s so flustered and surprised, like: you actually liked how much of an idiot I was? Cannot believe it.

Rubs it in Spies face so hard.

“Look at this hottie I bagged by bein’ a total dumbass. Hah! I win!” He proclaimed loudly.

No because I’m tweaking I love him so much. Anyways thank u so much for the request I took some creative liberties but obviously I had a lot of fun with this one haha!

[lovelaetter]

JENNIE!! this is my time - not much but i cannot stop thinking about her getting the sluttiest tramp stamp when you tell her not to.

being pouty after you find out when you take her from behind and freezing, while she’s all whiny like “why’d you stop?…oh.”

definitely the type to film or take pictures while fucking - part of the reason why she got the tattoo anyways, cause it’d ‘look cuter.’ her collection in her phone is locked and absolutely filled with the two of you, even has a polaroid pile in the corner of her drawer :(

will absolutely mouth your ear off and be a brat in public but can’t think of her being anything but so whiny when you both fuck. i just luv her small ass and no i did not forget the puffy pussy jennie agenda !!!

imagine being right this many times !

she would so brag about the damn tattoo after you finish because one, she handled the pain so well, didn’t even need you to hold her hand, and two it’s just such a cool design. yeah, sure, she had to stay there with the tattoo artist leaning over her ass for a few hours— would say this just to get a reaction from you— but her friend was there all the time she swears they didn’t try anything funny.

the photos and videos thing is so true, specially the polaroids. she has a bunch she made you take while she has your strap in mouth and while she eats you out, her on all fours all spread and even some that she managed to take while you had your mouth on her, but they look shaky because it feels too good she couldn’t concentrate. but yeah, definitely her favorite is some video that really shows off how dumb you fuck her, like, she knew she probably sounded and looked stupid but she didn’t imagine it was THAT bad… the way she whines and babbles incoherent things, mouth hanging open, spit and tears !! she felt herself blushing hard.

a brat? yes, but the easiest to take care of because i’ve said before, all she needs is something inside her. you got her running her mouth only to shut the fuck up because two of your fingers get hooked at her entrance, just the tips, talking back that turns into babbling and whines, bucking her hips to get more. and of course you had to mention her cute ass and the puffy pussy :( eating her ass, pretty thing spreading her asscheeks for you to explore, twisting and moaning at the feeling of your tongue in her little hole, all while her pussy is also leaking with your fingers going in and out, puffy lips creamy and pink-ish tempting you to just keep going :(

[ghostboneswrites2]

To help break free of writers block, I’m doing these. Enjoy 🍓

Young Daryl Dixon x Strawberry Reader

(a short little drabble)

(Fem!Reader) (Reader descriptions: freckles, hair long enough to be messy and put in a hair tie - no race or body type mentioned)

-18+ MDNI-

Masterlist

In his early twenties, Daryl had only two friends he dared to associate with. One of them was Gunner, a man of few words with a short fuse. The other, a guy called Wylie, like the cartoon coyote. He earned that nickname for a few reasons, but mostly due to his poor luck with women. The joke was that he’d chase them forever but he’d never actually catch them. The only girl in the entire town that would associate with him was his little sister, Y/N.

She was only a year younger than he was, but she was smarter than him by far. He was a dumb boy, with not much going on behind those bug-ish.

All in all, they were a trio of losers. Daryl had been the only attractive one of the bunch, and even he had zero game. The three of them would often hang out by the lake. A lake which had no name, proudly referred to by the locals as ‘The Lake.’

They’d lean against Daryl’s beat up old Ford, the same truck he’d always been working on in his dad’s driveway in high school. Merle always told him it was a lost cause — that they should have just junked it for a quick dime. Daryl was insistent, though, that he could get it running, and sure enough he did. It only costed him two years of his life and a handful of dead end jobs to afford the parts and pieces it required.

With a functional vehicle, a young man in his prime was surely unstoppable. As often as he could manage, Daryl would scoop up his two friends and find some kind of trouble to get into. That particular day, they opted for a dip in the lake. Georgian summers were no joke, but this particular summer was more than any of them could have anticipated. The record high temperatures had rendered many air conditioning units useless. The only HVAC company in the county couldn’t keep up with the calls. In simpler terms, it was hot as fuck outside.

“Hotter than a damn dingle berry in the devil’s ass-crack, I’ll tell ya that much.” Wylie joked, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the dingy old Metallica shirt he’d just taken off.

The boys all mumbled in agreement as they stripped down into their trunks, excited to take a dip in the cool water.

“Least we picked the spot with the best view.” Gunner snickered as he looked around. The Lake was busy that day, as it had been all summer.

Young people and small families lined the bank of the water. Kids played and splashed, young couples took turns on the rope swing, women laid out on their towels and floats to soak up some sun.

One particularly bright young lady caught Daryl’s eye among the crowd, with her bright red top and torn up daisy dukes. The sun left a radiant glow on her skin as she shook out her messy hair from its previous updo. Freckles littered her skin like strawberry seeds, especially on a sunny day. It took him little time to realize she was Y/N, Wylie’s previously mentioned younger sister.

She notice the gang of merry idiots as soon as they noticed her. She rolled her eyes and strode over to them, glaring them down as she ate a fresh strawberry.

“And just what the hell are you three tit-for-brains doin’ here today?” She questioned suspiciously.

“Swimmin’, cause it’s hot. Just like everybody else out here.” Wylie defended.

“Surely it’s not ‘cause you knew I was comin’ out here with my friends today.” She pressed on. “Always followin’ us around like puppy dogs to catch a glimpse of my friends.”

Her eyes scanned over Gunner, then Wylie, before landing mischievously on Daryl. “Or, me.” She teased. Daryl scoffed.

“Yeah right.” He waved her off. His dismissive facade couldn’t hide the way his eyes lingered on her glossy lips as she sucked her finger clean of strawberry juices. He cleared his throat and gulped. “The hell y’all doin’ out here anyway? Y’ain’t got nothin else to do, like doin’ your hair and talkin’ ‘bout boys?”

“Ain’t no boys worth talkin’ about in this town, Dixon.” She fired back.

“I could think of a few.” Wylie chimed in, smirking at a pair of girls as they walked past in their bikinis.

“Please.” She snorted. “Ain’t a single lady in the state of Georgia that would touch any one o’ you buffoons with a ten foot pole.”

“That ain’t what your friend Gina said the other night.” Wylie said with confidence.

“Oh, that’s right!” Y/N snapped her fingers, as if attempting to recall something. “I believe what she said was… that your breath smelled so bad she nearly fainted tryin’ to hold her breath.”

Gunner and Daryl stifled their laughter as their friend had his ego torn apart once again by his little sister.

“Whatever, man. Let’s just go swim.” Wylie grumbled as he shuffled toward the water. Gunner followed after him, followed by Daryl. Y/N matched her pace to the young Dixon, eying him curiously through the corners of her lashes.

“Why do you even hang around with those two dimwits, Dixon?” She asked him, just as they reached the edge of the water where Wylie and Gunner were acclimating to the cold.

“There my friends.” Daryl shrugged, kicking off his shoes.

“Mm. Dead weight is what they are.”

“Wha’s that mean?” Daryl arched a brow curiously.

“Just that…” She trailed off, looking him up and down once more before she smirked. “It can be hard to appreciate a nice thing when it’s surrounded by garbage, that’s all.”

With that, she winked at him, and walked back over to her friends. She left him in disbelief for a moment, before he’d shake his head and follow his friends into the lake.

For the rest of the afternoon, he’d splash and joke with his buddies, occasionally leaving the water to pull a beer from their cooler and return. Sneakily, he’d pass a glance toward Y/N, but somehow she always caught him looking. Conveniently, she’d make sure to stretch it bend over just as he did, batting her eyes and licking her lips each time.

[natelia-aldelliz]

"So what's his damage," Soap whispers to him as he's floating above Ghost's sleeping form, in the plane on their way to Mexico.

Roach snorts. "Would be faster to tell you what's not broken, honestly. Though I guess his fiancé dying on him was probably the final straw, what convinced him to just... Close off, I guess."

Soap's face contorts in earnest empathy. "Ah shit, sorry," he says. "Did ye know them well?"

Roach just stares at him. From the little he's seen of him in the field, he's extremely competent, smart and resourceful. He's also apparently quite dumb. He's lucky that's exactly the kind of person Roach likes.

He sees the exact moment the realisation hits him, his pretty blue eyes going wide. "Oh, you're the- okay, damn, sorry man."

Roach chuckles. "You should have said 'that's rough, buddy'. It's been five years, I've accepted my fate. I'd just... Like for him to do the same."

Soap hums. "It's a complicated issue," he whispers. "But I have to say, most ghosts that haunt their partners like it better when they haven't moved on."

"Why would I want that," Roach frowns. "I want him to be happy. I want him to have friends. I want him to live his life."

Soap smiles.

"I'll have ye know I'm trying really hard to be his friend," he says.

"Don't take it personally when he treats you like an arsehole, it's on purpose, to make you flee and allow him to keep wallowing in his misery."

Soap nods. "Thanks for the tip."

"... You really mean it? You really wanna be his friend?"

Roach finds out right now and then that Soap's smile holds the power of the fucking sun.

"Yeah! He seems really cool and I love making friends."

That's a golden retriever in human form, Roach is sure of it now. A really pretty human form as well. Anyway-

"He's also really hot under his mask." Why did he say that?? Roach tries really hard not to facepalm. The man just met them, it doesn't matter if he knows he's Simon's type (and his), he just wants to be friends, what is he doing... He doesn't even know if he likes men! He can only blame that on the five years he spent without social interaction.

Not that he was that good at social interaction when he was alive, but that's not the point.

Soap sputters for a few seconds, cheeks pinker. That's... Interesting. Damn, he really has a one track mind sometimes...

"Hum, guid tae knaw," Soap says finally, his accent thicker. Is he that flustered? Does that mean Simon has his chances?

If someone had told him years ago that he would be flirting with a co-worker, as a ghost, on behalf of his unaware still living fiancé, he'd have laughed probably.

[theredpharaoah]

Dare I say we give Giles too much. I think him not giving Buffy the Slayer Handbook was dumb and ignorant. The Handbook didn’t just have rules for the Slayer, it was the definitive guide to magic on Earth and its history. The fact they never pull it out again after the first episode irritates the hell out of me. How helpful would that have been for all the Scoobies - Willow could’ve picked up magic way quicker. It probably would’ve helped Buffy hone the psychic abilities she never really developed. Remember how she’s supposed to be able to sense vampires and stuff? And in the comics, Erin had access to all the Slayer memories(I’m pretty sure) because he inherited the psychic side of the lineage. Again, that could’ve been cool to see and very helpful.

I also feel - as stated many times before - Giles completely failed with Faith. People talk about how Buffy built up that rapport with Giles and her friends - that she made their relationship the way it was. But that’s irrelevant because the relationship was present and stable at the time of Faith’s arrival. We see when Kendra comes that even the Giles is a bit taken-aback to her very by-the-book approach to being a slayer. So when Faith came - who is extremely similar to Buffy - how did Giles not immediately feel that paternal instinct he has with Buffy, Willow, and Xander? That sort of instinct comes easier the more people you consider to be your “children”. I mean it’s crazy that The Mayor had to take Faith out of that nasty ass motel. A literal demon had to go “that’s no place for a young girl”. And sure he had a motive but the fact that none of the decent people had already said it? And the way they handled the accidental kill of the evil assistant to the mayor? First of all, the Slayer killing humans is frowned upon but it’s not a hard and fast rule. I’m not saying they should just go around killing ppl, but I’m not going to feel bad that Faith killed a man who was working for demons anyway. And compare that to how they reacted to Buffy Killing Ted(when they thought she had); completely different reaction. And Buffy had exhibited far more animosity towards Ted, than Faith had for some random who got in the way.

Giles as an adult - and something of an educator - should’ve immediately clocked that Faith did not have the same upbringing as the other 3, that the Scoobies were falling into their childish instincts and alienating her, and he should’ve gone out of his way to include her and impress upon the others why they needed to accept her. Especially after they found out about her Watcher’s death and saw how terrified she was of Kakistos. Why did Buffy and Angel have to be the ones to find out Faith needed to be fought for - that she needed help to deal with her trauma. I was really disappointed in Buffy as she’d lost her watcher and relocated just like Faith. She also understood how lonely and dangerous it is being a Slayer. But I can’t blame Buffy all that much cuz she’s a kid. And Giles willing all of his things to Faith in the comics and only the Slayer Handbook to Buffy did not move me. Giles considered Buffy to be the “One True Slayer” was not a gag. Everyone considers her to be that, giving her this handbook after she’s been a Slayer for damn near a decade is insulting. She don’t need that shit no more - she had to learn it all on the job. And giving Faith his money so she could retire from violence? Faith’s violence wasn’t the issue, her relationship to it was. The whole thing read as very melodramatic and self-absorbed.

Giles was very childish and we see it all throughout the series, but especially in the later seasons. I mean when you actually think about it, he’s so ridiculous. Buffy was 22 at the end of the series. 22 and she has to take care of a teen sister, pay mortgage, bills, etc. Could you imagine that amount of responsibility at that age? Our society still considers 22 year olds to be pseudo-teens for the most part. And he left cuz he “didn’t want her to become dependent on him”…what type of shit? She was already dependent on you - you’d been her Father Figure since she was 16 and throughout a boatload of trauma. You pretty much raised the girl. And you know that - that’s why you had a dream of taking child Buffy to the fair. He’s human, but that doesn’t excuse the level of cowardice he exhibited for me.

Also, I think instead of killing Jenny in Passions, they should’ve had her live. I think she would’ve been great as Faith’s mentor. And while she didn’t take the Scoobies to task for blaming her about Angel and alienating her, I definitely think she would’ve gotten them together for their treatment of Faith. I also think she would’ve pointed out Giles’ differential treatments of the two.

[secretmellowblog]

I hope tumblr doesn’t die because No other social media site is as good for long, thoughtful, nuanced analyses of media. Yeah tumblr is also full of dumb shallow hot takes and shitposts, but you can make dumb shallow hot takes and shitposts anywhere —-there are no other popular social media sites that let you easily format and share long essays on the media you enjoy, and then have conversations around those long essays.

Fandom on all the other big social websites just seems so utterly …shallow. And it’s not because people on other websites aren’t thoughtful or don’t have deep things to say, but because these sites’ formats do not allow for any kind of long nuanced conversations.

Tiktok? Things have to be crammed into a super short video with an attention grabbing headline, and you can’t hyperlink sources. Instagram? Everything has to be in an image format with strict limits on length, and nothing will be shown to your followers anyway because of how Instagram’s algorithm works, and also no hyperlinks. Twitter? Strict character limits, and if you split it into threads it means someone can retweet a part of your essay completely out of context, and also very little freedom with formatting.

It frustrates me so much. If I go into the Tumblr Les Mis fandom I’ll find really compelling long essays on the original novel (including essays being written for the ongoing book club) on the story’s historical context, or the parallels between different characters and their narrative foils, or the way the politics were defanged for certain adaptations, or the way Victor Hugo’s personal life and failings affected the novel. But on tiktok I’ll get the same five shallow stale jokes from 2013 over and over, or maybe the same “DID U KNO THAT IN THE MUSICAL JAVERT AND VALJEAN SING THE SAME LEITMOTIF” style of basic Intro To Les Mis 101 For Babies media analysis (which is what Tiktok considers deep media analysis), or stale “LOL JAVERT ACTS GAY” style jokes as if we’re living in the early 2000s and calling a character gay is still a funny punchline. And it’s impossible to have any kind of deeper thoughtful discussions than “DID U KNOW <x Kool Fact>” or “lol <shallow observational joke>” on tiktok because the platform just isn’t built for building niche communities around in depth conversations. it’s built to churn out bland generic content for as wide an audience as possible, which means pointing out a small detail like an Easter egg and calling it “cool” is deep media analysis, because you cant have longer more in depth conversations without alienating people. And I hate it. Bc like, it’s not because there aren’t smart clever thoughtful people on Tiktok— there are—it’s because Tiktok isn’t built for these conversations, and anyone who wants to have them has to really fight against the things the website encourages or prioritizes!

Or like, if I go into the LOTR fandom on Tumblr, I’ll find tons of extremely long analysis and fanfic, and analysis of queer readings of the story. On Instagram people will still shriek in terror if you suggest the characters are gay, and most of the popular lotr posts are stale memes recycled from like 2007. There’s really no room for thoughtful media analysis, and even if you did create it, instagram’s algorithm would make sure no one saw your post anyway.

And everyone’s going to say “the algorithm shows you what you’ve seen before so maybe it’s your fault ~” or whatever but i do look for things I want! I do! “The algorithm” doesn’t know me or what I want or value or care about beyond this meaningless surface level.

The only thing that was worthwhile about these sites was the great visual art people were creating, but now the websites are overwhelmed with meaningless soulless machine-generated AI glurge, and it sucks. It just really, really sucks.

I’m honestly confused about why people don’t use tumblr….There’s no character limits! You have freedom with post formatting, and can insert images throughout textposts to illustrate specific points you’re making beneath the paragraphs where they’re necessary! You can add hyperlinks, linking to your sources! People can reblog your entire essay and share it, and then add on with commentary that then becomes part of a larger conversation! People can find your stuff through the tagging system! Reblogging means posts stay in circulation for years instead of being dead 30 minutes after they’re uploaded! If you want to have genuinely interesting text conversations about a piece of media, there really isn’t a better social media website for it anywhere.

To be clear, I’m definitely not saying Tumblr media analysis is *always* clever and thoughtful or etc etc. there are shitposts and nonsense here too (plenty of which I’ve created lol.) I’m saying that Tumblr gives people the tools for in-depth insightful analysis to happen. Whether people choose to do it or not is their own decision XD. But the reason lengthy in-depth conversations and book clubs are even possible here is because Tumblr is built for allowing these conversations to happen, in a way other sites simply aren’t.

It’d really suck if it died, because it’d be a huge blow to…being able to easily find long insightful in-depth media analysis written by fans. I currently don’t think there’s anything that could replace it.

[dollywheeler]

October 24th, 1996

Mike is such a DOUCHEBAG! What? Just because he’s back in town he thinks he can dictate how I live my fucking life?! I knew this would happen! Knew he would just go back to looking at me like the goddamn 5 year old he couldn't give a damn about! That was nothing but a nuisance!

As if I can’t take care of myself! God, if he thinks I give a shit about his opinion he’s going to be sorely disappointed! Sure, not jumping four feet in the air and possibly breaking my neck at seven in the morning where no one will find me for at least another hour, made sense. That I can place and admit to being dangerous! But just running? What? I’m so fragile I might twist my ankle?

Fuck, and the way he yelled at me? Like I’m some dumb child that should know better?? I do know better! Which is why I always leave a note with my exact route and expected time of return - not even because I think anything might happen, but because I have common human decency and don’t want mom to worry when she wakes up to find me gone! Something he could’t give a rat’s ass about!!

Seriously, it’s so fucking rich that he thinks he has the right to scold me about running around Hawkins - Hawkins of all places, as if there are more boring towns than this! - in the dark without adult supervision! I’m so mad it’s insane. I don’t think I’ve ever been this pissed off before, it’s genuinely quite impressive.

To think that an hour ago I was so content to wake up early and go for a run before school. I was in such a good mood too - he ruined it.

He just doesn’t understand! I already can’t practice my routine - not the full, difficult parts of it - so the least I can do is work on my cardio and stamina! But when I tell him that he’s all like “just ask a friend to come along next time!” And I try to tell him that’s not an option but he just - ugh. He doesn’t get it. There’s no point in practicing extra when everyone knows you’re doing it. It will just make everyone think I’m being a try-hard or a suck-up or whatever! Or just think I’m being weird for needing the extra practice!

Great, now I’m crying again because I'm pathetic! Fucking Mike. Fuck this shit.

Okay, so I didn’t actually finish this entry, for many reasons. I didn’t even start it properly - not that the “dear diary” really matters, I guess, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Anyway, even though it’s been hours, I’m still pissed off, don’t worry, but at least now I have the time and state of mind to finish. I’m skipping English as I’m writing this down - I know it’s terrible for a lot of reasons.

1, my school record, but what is Mike going to do? Report me? Fuck that. And fuck him.

2, It’s letting him win. I recognise that. But I guess I’m weak because I really can’t deal with seeing him right now. God I hate him.

3, Danny is probably wondering where I am, which means I’ll have to tell him what happened.

Damn - maybe I didn’t think this through. I can probably spin it - say I wasn’t feeling well or something. Except I don’t want to lie to him either… Well, it’s not technically a lie. Still, I’ll probably just tell him some part of the truth - he can know I was pissed at Mike. He doesn’t have any siblings but he’ll probably understand anyway.

To think that for a while I considered myself an only child… tragic. I was so fucking close to just having a cool older sister that was too far away to meddle in my life. I was in control of my life - I still am!

Mike just thinks he has a say all of a sudden - which he doesn’t. Two weeks of being civil does not a brother make!

Seriously, it was so disorientating to just be running one minute, thinking nice thoughts, wondering about the english assignment, only for Mr. Wheeler himself to actually see me and come storming out freaking out about me running in the dark! It's Hawkins in October! It's dark all the time!

I was so shocked, I could barely defend myself. God, the neighbours will probably have wondered what the fuck was going on - If our shouting match didn’t wake them I’m sure they’re dead.

The worst part was that I still had to go to school after… I'm sure everyone could tell I was off. Or at least Dylan would have, if she hadn't been a thousand miles away today herself. I'm kind of glad for it. Danny sending me worried glances was more than enough, and just getting to listen to Whitney rattle on about yearbook and today's lunch and whatever else was not living up to her standard was nice. Distracting.

Still, I wish I could just go home already - I want to lie down and mope and pretend like it's still three months ago when Mike was far far away! Then I wouldn't have to deal with his judgement and his meddling and his passive-aggressiveness towards mom and dad. And I could just kiss my boyfriend in school without fearing he might see.

Sadly, I still have cheer practice and I can't skip it. It's already bad enough that Dylan has a brace around her wrist again.

This just reminded me I'm still wearing Mike's bracelet - it really shouldn't make me feel better but it does. It's petty as hell, and he probably doesn't even remember it exists, but whatever.

He should just go back to not remembering me.

- Holly

[harukamitsuki]

hello! The idea of yuga being forced to suggest one of his classmates to be recruited into the LOV is so tragically fun that I might honestly incorporate that into my own rewrite. I could imagine the canonically guilt yuga feels would be absolutely increase tenfold if he had to play any role in the kidnapping.

y’know yuga’s guilt (and his canonical suicidal ideation) has so much potential to explored in fics, it’s a shame he isn’t a more popular character… but at the same time he already gets mischaracterize to Hell and back, don’t really wanna imagine how bad it would get if he was popular. *insert the “the viewer fell for the character’s facade that the viewer were supposed to dismantle” image here*

but anyways, it specifically being either izuku and mezou??? brilliant and your reasons makes complete sense. yeah, mezou being the one kidnapped could easily be the catalyst to the mutant discrimination arc. and izuku getting kidnapped also has so much untapped potential, and tomura & izuku desperately needed to have more interactions before their big fight as well.

though, since it wasn’t until post-kamino that yuga stopped distancing himself from the rest of the class, it makes me wonder if he would be confident enough in his observation skills to choose either izuku or mezou. there’s a chance he might go with a more “safe” option like shoto or (dare i say) mina.

also, oh wait, here’s a way to make katsuki less relevant to plot. when izuku and shoto are having their talk between the sports featival rounds. instead of katsuki listening into their convo, have it be yuga. It makes sense, especially when paired up with the idea of yuga being forced to suggest a student to be recruited.

In canon, Yuuga is shown to be far more intelligent than fans make him out to be. He's able to figure out the relation betwen Izuku and All Might without any external guidance or direct hints, and he managed to fool the entirety of 1-A until the reveal. The dumb guy that fanon portrays him as, the guy who's only smart with love, doesn't exist in canon.

I see this as less of an issue with fanon and more of an issue with Horikoshi's writing. He completely forgot about the traitor plotpoint, leacing fans guessing for years until he finally remembered. As such, there really wasn't much build-up to it.

Everyone was guessing Denki, or Tooru, or even the audience themselves. (That last one was a really cool theory but sadly not true). There definitely were some hints here and there, but it never felt like there was a solid foundation until the traitor arc actually hit.

As for him not really interacting with the others until post-Kamino... IMO, if you've experienced something yourself, you find it easier to recognise when somebody has been or is going through something similar.

Yuuga knows what it's like to try to reign in a quirk you were not born with, and he knows how it feels when you believe you've made no progress. He knows how it feels to be discriminated upon, to feel weak, like the whole world is against him.

For those reasons, I think, even without properly interacting with them, he'd be able to recognise how strong Izuku and Mezou are, as well as how they could seem like 'easy' targets for the LOV. He can relate to both of them, (though neither were able to relate to him).

And for your idea with Yuuga eavesdropping rather than Bakugou, while I like the idea, I'd prefer nobody eavesdropping. Bakugou doesn't eavesdrop, and Yuuga would integrate in another way with the IzuCrew.

Shouto's conversation with Izuku was insanely private. He's opening his heart out to Izuku, although I'm sure he didn't realise it, sharing his memories of only pain as a child, something that should only be disclosed by the person afflicted to the one they want to know about it.

While it may suit Yuuga's traitor status, I also can't see him using this information in any way, meaning it would be ultimately useless for him to eavesdrop.

UNLESS!! Unless he decides to report Endeavour to the League, due to his sympathy for Shouto and horror at Endeavour's actions, which could lead into a different arc entirely–

Okay, I'm liking the idea a lot more now.

Thanks for the ask!!

[oldwritingm]

hi i was the one who asked ab the character match up thing but i also have a request!

could you write headcanons of being best friends with lloyd garmadon (and a slight unaddressed undertone of them having crushes on each other maybe)

like they’re really dumb and make fun of each other all the time but would die for each other easily and they have starfarrer marathons and play video games together and all that junk

totally fine if not though!! ⭐️🌟

Absolutely!!

Ninjago - Being Lloyd’s Best Friend (?) ;)

You guys met when he was on a mission

The ninjas were on the hunt for an ancient magical artifact, which you just happened to remember finding as a child

You guided them through the wilderness, secretly doubting your own navigational skills

That and the fact that you weren’t sure it was even there anymore made you obviously anxious

Lloyd, who was following the closest behind you, noticed the way you chewed your cheek and wiggled your fingers

You locked eyes once, and the look he gave you was the gentlest, most trusting yet understanding look you’d ever seen

Your anxiety melted away as you gazed into his deep green eyes

Then, realizing you were staring, you giggled awkwardly and apologized

That was how your very first conversation began

Lloyd was just trying to keep you calm so you could focus, but he completely forgot his goal when you mentioned Starfarer

“You like Starfarer?”

“Yeah, haha. I know it’s a little childish—”

“I love Starfarer!”

“No kidding?!”

Honestly, you had no idea where you were at that point

You were just taking random turns while you gushed about the series

(Much to the annoyance of the others following close behind)

By some miracle, you eventually found the artifact

On the way back, Lloyd explained what it was and what he needed it for

You thought he was so cool

You demanded to have him update you when the mission was completed

You exchanged numbers before finally departing

Less than five minutes after he left, you guys were already texting up a storm

You found out you actually had much more in common than being Starfarer fans; for one, you both loved video games

You compared which games you’d played and which you hadn’t, making vague promises to get together and play the ones you hadn’t

Needless to say, you guys text a lot

Lloyd is frequently gone on missions, but he always keeps his phone nearby

Calling you is his favorite way to pass the time when traveling

You keep him updated on more worldly matters, like when a new Starfarer comic is going to be released

He tells you about his fantastic adventures in return

Secretly, you both think to yourselves as the other speaks: Man, they’re the coolest person in the whole world…

Lloyd tries to visit whenever he can

Playing video games and goofing off with you always makes his day

He’ll lie awake at night recollecting your jokes and bursting into laughter all over again

You lie awake at night envisioning him on his missions, your heart racing as you picture him escaping peril time and time again

So, when one of you texts the other late at night, you’re both awake anyway

Your late night texts are different from daytime texts

You talk about deeper things: life, death, your pasts, anything and everything

You don’t really do this when you meet up; no, that time is reserved for teasing and goofing off ONLY

But you both sort of wish you did talk like that in real life, though neither of you bring it up

You just push down that stirring in your chests when you sit just a bit too close, or when you stare for half a second too long at your friend’s face

A rather pleasing face…

anYWAY you guys also share a huge sweet tooth

Snacks are a must whenever you hang out

And if you bake… oh man

You will immediately become Lloyd’s favorite cook

Even if you’re nowhere near Cole’s or Zane’s level, Lloyd will stand by his opinion that your goodies are better than theirs

You guys would ABSOLUTELY go to fan conventions together

Matching cosplays!!

If you cosplay a ship, you’ll awkwardly agree to do cute poses together when people want a picture

Again, just push down that stirring in your chest when you hold each other…

The other ninjas don’t tease Lloyd about you being his s/o

Mostly because they aren’t sure if you guys are actually dating or what

Lloyd doesn’t notice their skepticism though, he’s too focused on being silly with you :)

Thanks for reading! And thank you anon for the request :) take care guys <33

[murfpersonalblog]

IWTV S2 Ep1 Musings - Looking for Home: Louis, Claudia & Daciana

They flip between siblings and parent so much even I was getting whiplash--no wonder Lou's confused. U_U

This was EEEEEEEEVIIIIIIL, AMC! 😭 Louis carrying Grace's wedding portrait, and using it to FAKE his identity in Europe, after Grace couldn't even go to Europe for her own honeymoon cuz Paul died--STOP IT! 😭😭

And you can hear just a few quick seconds of the DPDL lietmotif that always plays for Grace, Paul, and sibling!Claudia, before it takes this SUPER dark and ominous tone--the song has been tainted, just like Lou's relationship with Grace and Claudia was tainted.

Go AWF, Claudia!

And then she finds ONE, and it was so heartbreakingly touching.

I was hoping she was Alessandra, but nope, she's an AMC!OC, Daciana. I'm assuming they were nodding to one rando revenant:

And she is obviously the same "Anna" the kids were singing about--(very Gaunter O'Dimm of them, I love it 💀)--living like frikkin Baba Yaga in a grimy castle in the woods.

Daciana killed her own fledgling after Claudia blinded him--after the revanant AND Daciana attacked them first, but whatever. Cuz she said he wouldn't be able to hunt/feed with no eyes--so it can't heal; her fledglings are too effed up. She's officially the last one in the area.

And I get it now--the bear(?) head Claudia breaks off of the dead vampire's sarcophagus was a heraldric figurehead. Claudia showed it to Daciana, as a way of asking her who that dead vamp was.

She didn't want to tell them her story or hear theirs--but she wanted them to know about Cezare Romulo (RIP). (It's crazy how in 5 minutes The Vampire Daciana was way more effective than a whole hour of Dierdre Mayfair. 🙄😒) She complimented Claudia's blood, saying it tasted like the cream of the crop. Daciana only told them her name, and that she was waiting for her children--fledglings or real ones, who knows (I bet both).

Only for Daciana to kill herself right in front of them (RIP). 😔🔥

This is so sad, but it was obvious she was gonna do that.

Stop teasing the Children of Darkness after this Alessandra fake-out. She's got the same darkness in her that Nicki (AND Louis) had. And we know where that means. 🔥💀🔥

These vampires are STARVING--hungry for family, love, home: LIFE.

So is Claudia! 😭😭😭 She wants a blood spouse! She wants a companion!

So I LOVE that Morgan clocked Louis on Grace's photo--that ain't yo wife! The gaydar was beeping the second your pretty arse walked in!

Like, it's been established that Louis is a terrible liar-you don't need an investigative journalist to figure that much out. Louis is TOO honest--he was dumb AF for telling Morgan his real name! I get why he did it in the book--again: desperate to make a connection.

But on the show it comes across way different--Louis almost immediately tells Morgan his name (he doesn't do that for Emilia, even though SHE called him pretty! Istg I was picking up some flirtatiousness with Lou & Morgan; put those pheromones AWAY 😂). But you come across MIGHTY SUS if your Black arse is going around switching identities on all these twitchy Europeans, Louis!

Like baaaaaasicallllllyyyyyyy!!! 🤦 You see them shooting up corpses just to make sure--you think they won't shoot YOU!?!

Anyways, it's so cool that they made Morgan a photographer--so is THIS why Louis starts taking photos!? 🤩📸

Cuz I've been wondering how Louis makes money in Paris so they don't have to pickpocket anymore?

I love that they included this.

No matter where they go, they have to pose as Black servants and maids and VALETS and SLAVES, white folk are the same regardless of the country.

Which was an interesting parallel with Daciana, and how much they were hyping up America.

She was clearly nuts, but smart & sane enough to realize that 2 (two!) Black vampires had fled their oh-so-great "land of the free" to come to HER busted AF blown up war-torn country, so why should she expect to have any happiness over there?

I don't know a lick of Romanian, but I wonder if the "another one" she was referring to was the soldier, or the country. As Daciana realized that no matter who she made her new fledgling, and no matter which country she ran to, she'd be alone & unhappy without the people she loved--her HOME.

Home is where the HEART is! Claudia's been homeless this whole time! Daciana's got that huge castle, but lives all alone--she can't make proper fledglings. Meanwhile Louis still thinks NOLA is home, even after they killed everyone who knew them--"including" Lestat!

*sigh* I hate this effing show, it's so dang good. 😭

[thebluestbluewords]

rumors of his death have been greatly exaggerated

"How's your brother doing, dear?" Fairy Godmother asks, taking Chloe's hand as she comes up to the teacher's table. "Is he enjoying his graduation trip?"  

Chloe tips her head sweetly to the side. "What brother?" 

Fairy Godmother looks puzzled. "Your only brother, dear one. Unless your parents have adopted another without telling me?" 

"Oh, that brother. I haven't seen him since..." Chloe hesitates. "The incident." 

"I'm sorry?" 

Chloe beams. "The incident. It's a family matter, I'm really not supposed to talk about it. I'm sure he's fine, though. Mother isn't too worried about him." 

You could make a topographical map out of the folds in Fairy Godmother's forehead. "Yes, of course. I'm sure that must be hard on your mother, not having her son around." 

"She endures." Chloe says cheerfully. "I should really go get dinner before I hold up the line. I'll see you in class tomorrow. I've already got my Fairy History essay ready for you!" 

"That's lovely, yes." Fairy Godmother says, still frowning. "And Red, you've got all your books? Everything you need?' 

Red lifts her chin. She's not just a passive observer, even though whatever's going on with her royal roommate's missing brother sounds horrifically fascinating.  "I'm all set. Wonderland post sent my books last week." 

"Lovely, lovely. I'll see you two in class tomorrow." 

"Goodnight, Fairy Godmother." Chloe chirps, bobbing into a half-curtsy before she moves away. 

Red will not curtsy, but she dips her head in the vague shape of a bow. "Goodnight." 

+

"So." Red says, once the two of them are out of the dining hall and on their way back to the dorm room they're going to be sharing. "You've got a brother?" 

Chloe looks at her sideways, without moving her head. "No. I've got a Chad." 

There's a particular darkness in her voice at the name, like how Red wants to say Jabberwocky sometimes, when they've been especially bad. 

"I take it you're not a fan." Red says, because it's stupid to ask questions, but she's the princess of Wonderland, and she should know her neighboring kingdom's royal families. "Is he really awful?" 

"The worst." Chloe says lightly. "He's not at home right now, though, so we've all had a bit of a rest." 

All? 

"All." Red repeats. "How big is your family?" 

"Big enough." 

It's dumb to play evasive word games with a Wonderland girl. "Big enough to fill a carriage?" 

Chloe sighs. "Bigger." 

"Big enough to fill a limo?" 

"Bigger, if you're counting everyone." 

"I'm asking you to tell me about your family, Auradon girl," Red says, leaning in towards Chloe, making it a flirty request, rather than a desperate dig for information. "Aren't you guys supposed to love talking about yourself?" 

Chloe shoots her a certified look. "My family is weird. You don't need to know about them, it's just...my brother is off on a mission to find himself, or something. He graduated in the same class as King Ben, so people are still going to ask about him, because one weird girl who plays with swords for fun isn't enough for the royal gossip tabloids." 

"Swords." Red drawls. 'Very royal." 

Chloe huffs out a tight little breath. "Yes, swords. I'm on the ROAR team. Royal Order of Auradon Regiment. We practice running through obstacle courses with swords for fun, and I'm actually really good at it, so please, please don't make fun of me. I know I'm not a very proper princess, but I really do love it, and my mom doesn't care what I do so long as I don't mess up my face, so just-- just stop it. I'll tell you about my brother if you really want, just..." 

"Swords are cool." Red blurts, before she can think twice about it. "Your brother sounds like a lame-ass anyway. Tell me more about your sword game?" 

Stupid, stupid. Asking about her sports team? Super lame behavior. Not cool at all, Red. 

Chloe looks up at her through her lashes. "You're making fun of me again." 

Red's heart skips a little beat. She's not sure if it's from shame or the huge, embarrassing, terrible crush that she's trying really hard to squash. "I'm not. Promise." 

"It's okay that you are. Everyone does, once they hear about my hobbies," Chloe says softly. "I'm not cool like my brother, or popular like my sisters. I'm the youngest child in my family, so everyone babies me all the time anyway. I don't mind it usually." 

She's twisting her hands together, looking down at her fingers. She's not wearing any royal rings or anything. Red's been wearing rings since she was a kid, to show her status and to punch people better. She wouldn't know what to do with hands that are so soft and naked. Does she hold them? Give Chloe one of her own rings? Tell her she's an idiot for declining any symbols of her royal status and get her mother to give her at least a small family ring? 

"I'm not actually a very good princess." Chloe says after a moment. "I just let people tell me what to do all the time. I just follow the rules and practice with my sword and read a lot of books. I'm not brave like my mother. You're probably braver than me. Coming to a new country, a new school, all by yourself... that's really brave." 

"Thanks."

Chloe's eyes are enormous. "Yeah." she whispers, soft and sweet and so, so close to Red. "I think you're really brave." 

Red lifts a hand to touch her roommate's cheek. "Brave enough to hear the truth about your brother?" 

Chloe's face falls. 

Red's heart sinks right along with it. 

"No. You don't want the truth anyway, it's boring." Chloe says, turning around to unlock their door.  "Anyway, I'm sure everything is boring compared to Wonderland, so I won't make you listen to me any longer. Goodnight, Red." 

Their door shuts before she can come up with a comeback. 

Fine. If her roommate won't tell her what's going on, Red will just have to figure it out herself. 

+ 

The next person to ask about Chloe's alleged brother gets an even less helpful answer. 

"I lost him." Chole says sweetly. "At sea. We went out on the yacht to celebrate his graduation, you know, after the...incident." 

The student nods seriously. It would be stupid to roll her eyes, but Red's patience for these delays is short already, so she does it behind Chloe's back. Really subtly. 

Chloe bobs her head in a little nod that could almost be serious, if she didn't look so pleased about it. "Yeah, so we were out on the ocean, and he just fell overboard. We lost him. Mom threw him one of the inflatable life rafts, but you know how Chad is about accepting help, so once it hit the water he just started swimming away. At the rate he was going, he's probably in the Southern Isles by now." 

+

It happens again. 

"He's at home, helping mother weed the library. We have a curse, you know. Roses keep growing in the fiction section, and it takes all hands on desk to clear it out." Chloe says, flashing the girl a bright smile. "The only reason I'm exempt is because mother and father don't trust me not to solve the problem with my sword.” 

The girl frowns. “Chad, weeding?” 

“Oh, yes. He wouldn’t usually, but mother asked him specifically. He’s really a mother’s boy at heart. It’s sweet how much he’d do for her.” 

Red watches the girl digest this. 

“Aw. That is sweet.” 

Chloe beams. “Isn’t it? He’s just the best. I bet if you run to the library now you could understand just how he feels right now, surrounded by all those books.” 

+ 

And again. 

“He’s joined the astronaut training program.” Chloe says. Her face is set in a very serious expression, which is only fitting considering that she’s talking to the head of their math department. “We haven’t seen him in ages, but he’s supposed to be on the moon base soon, so every time we look up back home we wave to him. It’s a new Charmington family tradition.” 

“That’s very nice, dear.” 

“If you want to join the SpaceChad fan club you can go to the royal media page our sister set up,” Chloe says sweetly. “It’s online under SpaceCaseChad dot com. There’s lots of good pictures.” 

Their teacher pinches the bridge of her nose. “Very nice story, Chloe. I’m sorry I asked.” 

“Princess Celeste puts a lot of work into it.” 

“I’m sure she does. Now sit down so you can learn some theorems.” 

Red looks the page up. 

It’s full of press pictures of Chad Charming, the only Prince of the Kingdom of Charmington, heir apparent of the second biggest kingdom in all Auradon, poorly edited to look like he’s floating in space. 

And wearing cat ears. 

The animated sparkle in his eyes is a nice touch. Red appreciates the sort of effort that goes into these things. The effort that’s been put into adding a tiny rocket ship under his boots is less impressive, but the way that the rocket bursts into animated flames every fourth edit is much funnier than it seems the first time you scroll past it. 

She’s starting to think that her roommate might actually be on to something here. 

+ 

The fifth time it happens, Red's pretty sure she's in on the joke. 

Before Chloe can come up with another smartmouth answer, Red gasps. The student who asked this time is some girl in a cheerleader uniform, and she looks like an easy target, so Red throws her whole body into it. Mouth open, eyes wide, and a gasp so theatrical even her mother would be proud of it. 

"You can't just ask that!" Red gasps, sweeping an arm around Chloe's shoulders. "Oh my gods, why would you even ask when it's still so fresh?" 

The cheerleader gapes. "I— what—?” 

"You don't just ask a royal family member what happened to her only brother," Red snaps. "It's not done. My mother could have your head for it. Chloe, are you okay?" 

Her roommate is shaking in her arms. Red's never tried to be a good person, but there's a feeling building in her that might be what goodness feels like. It's sort of like when she drinks the special unbirthday tea that she’s not supposed to touch, and a little bit like when she's in on a secret with her mom. Giddy, that's the feeling. 

The cheerleader's hands are on her cheeks now. "I didn't mean any harm, I'm sorry. Oh my god, Chloe, I'm so sorry. Is he okay?" 

Chloe's face is buried wholly and completely in Red's shoulder, and she's a warm, comfortable, shaking weight that's making it hard for her to think straight.  There's so many horrible things that can happen to a prince, and only so many ways to say it... 

"She doesn't know." Red says, pulling Chloe in a little tighter so her giggles can't spoil the illusion. "The last thing she knew he was visiting friends in Fairyland, and then he started sending letters written on leaves instead of paper, and now..." she hesitates. 

"Now?" 

"He just sends the leaves." Red finishes. 

The cheerleader gasps. “I bet there's pollen all over his beautiful hair too!" 

Seriously? 

"We can only assume." Red says, face just as solemn as her mother's court isn't. "It's a real shame. The fairies want a princess on a milk-white horse to get him back, and she's got to ride in on the darkest night of the year too. Holding the moon in a jar as her guide." 

The girl looks about five seconds from whipping out her phone to write the lies down. "A real princess? Or would like, a pop princess work instead? Chad always said how much he loved Marcielle Lance. I bet he'd love me forever if I sent... I mean, if somebody tipped her off that the Prince of Charmington needed her to save him from Fairyland." 

"The letters didn't say." Red shrugs. "But it never hurts to try, I guess." 

The cheerleader is practically vibrating. "I've got to go make a— I mean, get to class! Thanks, though!" 

Red lifts a hand to her retreating back. "Buh-bye.” 

+ 

Time travel vertigo is a pain in the butt to recover from. 

Red falls into Chloe as soon as the world stops reshaping itself around them. 

Chloe shoves her off. “Where are we?” 

“More like when are we.” Red corrects, staggering upright. “And I think the answer is not far enough. Look, that roof looks exactly like it does now.” 

“It’s a roof.” 

“Yeah, and all the fancy pants brochures that you sent to Wonderland while we were sealed off from the rest of the world show that roof looking different than it does now. In our current time. Because it’s new, princess. We got brochures about replacing it.” 

Chloe closes her eyes. Red can see her breathing slowly, and stifles a grin. Her roommates hates being wrong, which works out great, because Red loves seeing her royal highness mad. 

“We can’t be here. We have to leave, now.” 

“We just got here. The watch has a cooldown time of one minute for every year travelled. We can’t leave yet.” 

“No, we have to leave.” Chloe grabs Red’s hand. “My bother is here. This is two years ago. He’s going to be here, on campus, and he’s going to recognize me, and our whole cover is going to be blown if we alter time in ways we weren’t expecting!” 

Oh, no.

“No,” Red says slowly, stretching out her words around the grin that’s threatening to take over her whole face. “No, I don’t think we do have to leave. After all the stories I’ve heard about this brother, I wanna meet this guy.” 

“You don’t.” 

“He’s an Olympic level swimmer, an astronaut, a curse-breaking mommy’s boy, and he was interesting enough to get kidnapped by fairies? I can’t wait to meet him.” 

Chloe stomps her foot. “You know that’s not true. I make all that stuff up, because—“ 

“Because why, princess?” 

“Because the real reason is boring.” 

Red glances down at the pocketwatch. One minute left until they can leave. “After growing up in wonderland, you think I don’t like boring? My mother is trying to stage a coup as we speak. She raised me on a diet of all-excitement, all the time. I want boring. I love boring. Please, for the love of time, give me something boring to think about until we can get out of here.” 

Chloe glares. “No.” 

“What?” 

“No. I’m not telling you. The longer we stand here arguing the closer we are to getting out of here. I don’t have to tell you, I just have to stall until we’re out of time.” 

“Bold words from the girl who’s not carrying the time machine.” 

“You want to get out of here just as much as I do,” Chloe says, logically. Oh, how much Red wants to hate her. “You’re not going to leave us here, in the wrong time, just because you want to know where my brother’s hiding.” 

Red leans in. “Hiding, huh?” 

“You—“ Chloe slaps a hand over her own mouth. “I’m not saying another word. We can’t alter time before we’re supposed to, it’s too risky.” 

“Twenty seconds. Tick tock, princess. I could leave you here if you won’t tell me.” 

“You wouldn’t.” 

“You don’t know what I’d do.” Red hisses, leaning in so close that she can see the way Chloe’s eyes are tracking the motion of the pocketwatch. Her roommate’s eyes are pretty. It’s not fair that she’s got such an awful habit of keeping secrets to offset her pretty face. 

“I’ll tell you,” Chloe offers. “But only once we turn the watch.” 

“Deal.” 

“Now.” 

Red cranks the watch, but carefully this time, so that her fingers don’t slip before they’re ready and send them another two or three years back. 

“You’re sure you want to know?” 

The watch is hot in her hand. The dial is shivering under her fingers. “Yes, I’m sure.” 

Chloe throws an arm around her waist, and grabs the watch out of her hand. “He shaved his head and got too embarrassed to show his face in public!”