#horrendous thing to imagine. horrible

[luv4freddie]

Polaroid Love - F.W

Fred goes to work with his father and comes home with a muggle Polaroid camera, deciding the best use of it would be to take horrendous pictures of his girlfriend.

Fred x fem!Muggleborn reader, established relationship, reader gets red, house and age not specific, tooth rotting fluff bc I love lovesick Fred, 1.2 k words

Being a muggleborn at the Weasley household was an experience, to say the least.

In the last week since you’ve been at the Burrow, you’ve explained what rubber ducks are for, how to operate a microwave, and Pythagorean theorem.

Today Aurthur took the boys to work with him, so you were currently helping Molly cook dinner.

You had yet to understand the witchy way of cooking, so you were stuck mixing a bowl by hand while Molly sent knives, pots, and pasta flying all across the room.

You ducked a flying cutting board right as the group of rowdy boys entered the front door, your boyfriends voice in particular carrying over the noise of clattering dish ware.

“Honey, we’re home.” Aurthur calls, and Molly meets them all at the door, asking you to ‘keep an eye on’ the multitude of activity in the kitchen.

You look around with wide eyes, imagining all the magical pots dropping to the floor and spoons stopping their stirring, Molly walking in and wondering how you were so incompetent that you would never be able to cook and therefore would be a horrible wife to her son.

You’re only snapped out of your reverie by a flash of light in your eyes, and you tumble back to your current environment— all the dishes are still floating, the spoons were still moving, and Fred was staring at you with a giant grin on his face.

“Hi Freddie!” You light up at the sight of your boyfriend, but don’t allow his attempt at hugging you, too focused on not disappointing your (hopefully) future mother-in-law.

“They’re not gonna stop working unless mom makes them, these things are always going.”

But you refuse to budge, and Molly walks in to see you holding your boyfriend away with one hand on his chest while you continue trying to stir with the other.

She lets out a laugh, telling Fred to leave you alone and go wash up before dinner.

“One kiss? Pleaseeee?” He gives you puppy eyes, and your face goes bright red.

“Not in front of your parents!” You hiss, but he steals a one anyway before running up the stairs and out of the way of the punch you tried to throw at him.

Molly pretends not to have seen, and you let your face cool down before asking what she wants you to do next.

Fifteen minutes later you’re sat at the large table, sandwiched between the twins while Ron talks to you from across the table.

“It was pretty fun, and we all got muggle souvenirs afterward, can you explain to me what this is?” He asks, holding up a PEZ dispenser with a cartoon character head on top.

You laugh, explaining how to get the candy out and watching as a few of the Weasley’s around the table stop to watch, Aurthur positively beaming at the discovery.

“Take a bite before dad can ask you something,” Fred whispers urgently in your ear, and you go to say something back but see Aurthur open his mouth on the other side of the table and you quickly scoop as much pasta into your mouth as you can fit.

You hear Fred laugh at you, and you turn to give him a glare; although it’s less scary due to the copious amounts of noodle hanging out of your mouth.

A flash once again momentarily blinds you, and you finally realize what it is when you see the small Polaroid camera in your boyfriend’s hand.

You go to yell at him, but still have pasta in your mouth so you settle for an angry groan and another smack to his arm.

You watch in horror as a piece of film comes out of the camera, which your boyfriend takes gingerly and looks at expectantly as it develops.

You finally manage to swallow your large bite, and you snatch the photo from his grasp, immediately being greeted by your own face, round with food in your cheeks and wide eyes while strands of pasta hang down your chin and sauce sits on the corners of your mouth.

“Freddie,” you groan in annoyance, but he just takes the photo back from your hands and looks at it proudly.

“It’s a lovely representation of you, darling.”

“It is not!!”

George is laughing too, and you turn back to your plate, trying not to think about the fact that your boyfriend now has two horrible pictures of you for keepsakes.

You try to help clean up after dinner, but Molly insists that someone else does it since you helped cook, so you head upstairs to your boyfriend’s room while Ron and Ginny grumble.

“Evening, love,” Fred greets as you enter the twins’ room.

“Y/n,” George greets as well, tipping his nonexistent hat to you before turning his back to you so he can start a letter to Angelina.

Your boyfriend uses the opportunity to wrap his arms around you, trapping you in his embrace and placing a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you today.” He mumbles into your hair.

“It wasn’t even a full day,” you laugh, the sound muffled by his chest.

He scoffs, sitting down on his bed and pulling you onto his lap.

“So what, I’m not allowed to miss my girl?”

You feel your cheeks warming at the claim of being his, and you give him a teasing smile, “well when you say it like that..”

Before you can even move there’s another flash and you immediately groan, burying your head into the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

“I’m really starting to resent your dad for getting you that.”

You feel his shoulders shake with laughter, but all he says is “I think it’s my second favorite possession.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, pulling back so he can see it.

“Second favorite?”

“Yep. After these pictures.” He grins, now holding up all three photos he’s taken of you since being home.

“Why can’t you just take pictures like a normal person?” You ask, looking at the two new photos, the one from earlier of you with a wooden spoon in your hand and eyes looking around while bowls float around your head, and the newest one of you sat on Fred’s legs with pink cheeks and a grin on your face.

“Normal people don’t get to keep your happy face in their pockets though, now do they?”

You watch as he puts the photos back, and you melt at the thought of your boyfriend wanting to document your joy to keep as his own.

“I’m always wearing my happy face when I’m around you, Freddie.”

He grins (ignoring George’s gagging) and pulls you down onto his bed, smothering you in kisses until he can no longer keep himself up and your face is brighter than his hair.

“Guess I’ll have to get more film then.”

And he does.

In fact, by the time you get back to Hogwarts from the holidays he’s got a whole wall of polaroids .

You in his Christmas sweater with a proud smile on your face and an F across your chest, you being squeezed by his mother in the worlds tightest hug, you on a broom in his backyard and a quaffle in your arms, you asleep on his bed, even one of you puckering up as if to give the camera a kiss.

And no matter how many times he looks at them, Fred still stares at the photos with a lovesick smile on his face, absolutely in awe at the ability to capture pictures that are so you, so full of light and love that he feels like the luckiest man on Earth to get to be yours.

[channelbomb]

okay NOW i can say this because more stuff came out. i posted something like this last night and then deleted it because i felt bad for the shit i said but honestly idgaf and this person deserves it.

sturniololuv08, FUCK YOU. you’re a HORRIBLE person. 28 willingly talking and flirting with minors is INSANE. that’s not even the worst thing you’ve done, somehow, because that’s genuinely repulsive and you should keep your relationship with minors strictly platonic. BUT YOU ALSO WRITE RAPE FICS!??? YOUR FICS MAKE ME WANT TO THROW UP. they’re disgusting, abhorrent, egregious, gross, horrendous, nauseating, repellent, foul, and distasteful. i can’t put into words how much you utterly disgust me. i haven’t been here that long to get to read the fics when they first came out, but the fact you have gone this long getting away with that shit is beyond comprehension. and you think you can just take a hiatus or whatever IS STUPID!!! you’re a threat to others around you, and you honestly make me so mad i just had to go outside.

i’m typing this from my back porch, motherfucker. maybe you should try it to! i know people with full time jobs, kids, and normal lives who are younger than you. BITCH, SEXUAL ASSAULT IS NOT A KINK, ITS A FUCKING CRIME, CUNT.

imagine you went through something so traumatic one time, and now you’re on tumblr because you like some youtubers, and THEN YOU SEE SOMEONE WRITING ABOUT THAT SAME EXPERIENCE YOU HAD.

consent is sexy! consent is the best thing you could do during that, and sex should be something intimate in anything and NOT INITIATED BY NO CONSENT LIKE IN YOUR FICS.

this is fucking disgusting and i never thought i would have to type out these fucking words, but seriously you make me so mad. the way you had those ideas makes my blood absolutely boil. and then thinking playing the victim will make everything better??? BITCH, FUCK YOU!!! we are fans of three guys who fight and laugh in a car every friday, but yet you had these sick and twisted thoughts to write smut about them, WHO ARE YOUNGER THAN YOU and DEFINITELY would not be okay with this either.

i hope you get toothpicks under your toenails and then you have to punt a boulder, i hope you wash your hair tonight (that is, if you even fucking take showers) and and your shampoo is ACTUALLY NAIR, i hope both of the sides of your pillows are burning hot, i hope you get banned off of every social media, i hope you never get a job because your digital footprint is so bad, and i hope you learn from your mistakes.

writing about rape is NOT OKAY. in any way, shape, or form. it’s a heartbreaking thing that happens to women and men worldwide and daily. it takes away their pride, confidence, and sometimes even their ability to get intimate with anyone after. and writing about it is truly revolting. i can’t even put into words how truly furious i am that you think that is okay to write about. i don’t hold back when it comes to shit like this. this is horrendous.

to my mutuals, followers, or even just other fans of the triplets who have been directly affected by this specimen, just know that i love you, i care for you, and you’re so brave for speaking out about it or even just go through it. i’m so proud of you. and you should never have to go through that.

[just-a-sewer-goblin]

Not A Hero Just A Good Man

Simon Riley x Reader (probably ooc) Simon's home from deployment and he needs his spouse Fluff and very slight hurt/comfort Should be gn!reader, if I messed up anywhere please tell me There is mentions of a girly bodywash that is owned by the reader but... anyone can own those

"I need you to understand that I'm not the nice one out there, luv. I'm not the good cop. I'm not the hero."

You're sitting next to Simon on your shared bed, he's still in his gear, but his mask is in his hands and he's absent mindedly grabbing and rubbing at it.

"Luv, if you knew only half the stuff I've done. The absolute horrendous things I've done to people. And I'd do them again. And I will do them again."

He's growing distressed. His brows are drawn together and his rubbing over the skull part becomes harsh. He'll hurt himself at this rate.

So you get up and kneel down before him, force yourself into his view. Your hands oh so gently take the mask from his and the care with which you put it onto his nightstand chokes Simon up.

You slip your hands into his. He's still wearing his gloves, there's blood all over them.

As he looks down and sees your delicate, perfect hands in his blodied hold, the tears start gathering. He's trying to pull his hands away but you grip him harder. His glistening eyes find yours.

"I didn't marry a hero, Simon. I didn't marry someone who has a nice job or lives in a nice reality."

He's looking to the side trying to avoid your gaze. His hands are still limp in yours, refusing to hold onto you when there's still the gore of his actions clinging to his clothes and his skin.

You're gently easing the gloves off his hands and let them fall to the floor. His knuckles are bloody and split, even under the protective layer.

He swears he lets loose a sob when you bend down to press two soft kisses to the palms of his hands. He's ripping his hands away from you, cradling them to his chest.

"No.", your harsh tone makes his gaze snap back to yours again and when you grab his hands again he reluctantly lets you have them.

"Don't you dare look away from me, Simon Riley." You can see how hard he has to fight to obey your words. You can see his panting breaths get harsher and your grip is so soft, that if he truly didn't want to have you touching him, he could pull away. As if you could ever hold him against his will.

You take one of his hands and press it against your chest, deliberately drawing in deep and steady breaths and waiting until he is following your example.

"I didn't marry a hero, Simon. I married a good man."

You can audibly hear him gulp.

"I married a good man, who is willing to do the ugly work. I married a good man, who gets his hands dirty so the world is just a tiny bit cleaner."

His entire focus is on you as he hangs on to every word you say.

"I married a good man, who does horrible things. But those things need to be done. I'd rather have a good man, like my husband, do them, than someone who doesn't care at all. Someone who finds joy in them. I married a good man. And when you come home, blodied and bruised I will still love you. And when you come home after you did the worst imaginable things, things I don't even know possible, I'll still love you. And when you do horrendous things again, I will still love you. I love you."

He's looking at you and the tears catch in his eyelashes like soft morning dew on the most intricate petals. You have never seen a man more beautiful than your Simon. You have never seen anything more beautiful than the man, he allows you to see through the cracks in his walls.

"Love...", he breathes. And it's reverent, a prayer. As if you are the deity that holds his absolution. As if your words alone can save him from the damnation he suffers.

His hands slowly reach up, cup your cheeks. He's about to pull back when he sees the blood on his hands next to your unblemished face but your hands cover his and you nuzzle into the hold of a killer.

His body bows foreward, into your warmth and his chapped lips fit against yours. As soon as your lips touch he whimpers and your hands find their way to his cheek and neck, holding him close.

You only pull back enough to touch your forehead to his, both of you keeping your eyes closed.

"My Simon.", you whisper into his skin and his arms wrap around you as he lets his head fall to your shoulder, buries his face in your neck and starts shaking.

You grab onto him just as tightly. It's uncomfortable the way you're on your knees half risen to meet him in the middle but you don't care when you start humming and gently swaying.

You don't know if he's crying, probably not, but he's still shaking so you tighten your hold and whisper your love for him into the quiet of your bedroom.

When his breaths start to get quick and shallow again you force him back, cup his face and demand "Simon, look at me."

He does, his gaze is unfocused, and he's panting way too fast, but he's trying to focus on you. He's not too far gone so you check in first "Touch?" He nods in a jerky movement.

Your hands go to his again and you hold both of them to your chest with one, the other one finds his neck and puts gentle pressure there.

"Match my breaths, darling.", you instruct. He obeys.

Today is a good day, as you are able to bring him back from the brink for a second time. Slowly his eyes blink back into awareness and your gentle smile cracks open his ribcage and sets his bleeding heart free.

"There he is. Hi."

"Hi, luv." His voice is horribly rough a splintering sound like old rotten wood breaking apart but he doesn't miss the way your hand on his neck squeezes affectionately.

"Let me give you a shower?" He nods, too tired afer two almost panic attacks to answer. You stand up and offer him a hand which he takes and allows you to pretend to pull him up.

You don't let go of his hand as you pull him into the bathroom, maneuvering him so he can lean back against the sink. You know that he's tired, but you also know that the last thing he needs to see right now is himself, still covered in blood, and you taking care of that mess for him. So you don't give him the opportunity to gaze at the reflection of what's going on in the mirror over the sink.

Once you've eased every piece of armor and clothing off of him, you usher him into the shower, under the warm spray of water before following him.

Once your both under the water, your wrap your arms around him and just hold him. When he sighs you can feel the way his lungs fill up to their limit.

It's a long time before you take the bottle of shampoo into your hands and put some of it in your hands.

"Bend down for me?", you murmur.

Simon gets on his knees before you instead, buries his face in your tummy and relaxes as your hands begin to massage the shampoo into his scalp.

You're careful while rinsing it out and he presses a soft kiss to your tummy before standing up. A thank you and a offering at the altar of the only deity he'll ever worship. Then he's standing again, his hands on your hips, while you begin to lather his body in your own body wash.

You can feel him relax and it doesn't take long before he gives you the gift of his voice, even if it is so say: "Damnit darlin', making me smell like a princess?"

He's grumbling affectionately and you grin. There he is. It's always a good sign when he starts being a grump about stuff he secretly loves. It's always a good sign when he starts with his horrible dry humour.

"No one says that big dangerous men can't be princesses.", you quip back and see the way the corner of his mouth lifts up.

"I'm too manly to smell like...", he squints at the bottle. "Rainbow sunshine." He snorts. "Sounds like something that would come out of a unicorn's ass."

You laugh and slap his chest. "You are the worst, Si. Guess you gotta suck it up and smell like unicorn ass."

"The shit I go through for you.", he grouses and you can hear the grin in his voice.

When you've rinsed him off again he puts his arms around you again and pulls you into him, resting his head on yours.

"Thank you, luv."

"Always, baby."

...

"Now get your unicorn ass out of this shower so I can dry you off and cuddle with you."

He laughs roughly and slaps your backside. "The only one with a magical ass here, is you, luv."

[compact-turtle]

yandere bounty hunter x gn!reader headcannons...

Concept: Yandere Bounty hunter x Reader 

Tw: Kidnapping, Obsessive, Possessive, delusional yandere, Yandere Behavior, stalking, brief mentions of SA (not by the yandere), harassment, brief mention of death, 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who spends his days doing assignments. He’s one of the best at his company and in the country. He comes across a case that offers big bucks. Enough that allows him to retire early and live lavishly for the rest of his life. 

-He reads over the case details. Interestingly, it’s just some rich kid who ran away from their parents. He was expecting some master criminal mind who had over thirty federal charges. 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who takes a few days to find you. Not like it’s that difficult. You were messy and left clues everywhere you went. 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who spends a few weeks in the city watching your every move. He studies your routines, habits and everything in between. He convinces himself that he’s just doing his part of the job. 

-Eventually, he creates an encounter between you two. He introduces himself as someone new to the city. He’s looking for some friends to show him around. You jump at the opportunity to be his friend. 

-For the next few weeks, you both spend a considerable amount of time with each other. Whether it was going to the movies, eating at restaurants or doing shopping trips. You were so sweet and naive offering to pay for everything since “that’s what friends do.”

-He finds it endearing watching you stumble over the simplest things. How you seem so lost in the world without him to guide you. 

-One night, you call him in hysterics. You tell him about your landlord who’s been harassing you. He’s called you vulgar things, threatened to force himself upon you, and a multitude of other horrendous acts. Your landlord has even issued to kick you out if you don’t comply with his demands. 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who knows you aren’t used to this due to your sheltered lifestyle. You’ve never had to worry about the horrible people out there. He decides to call in a favor from an ex-bounty that owes him. 

-Within a few days, the landlord issues are taken care of.

-You invite him into your apartment to celebrate the wonderful news. It’s small and cozy. The walls are a creamy white with a wooden floor to match. A strong smell of you lingers everywhere. 

-You cook him dinner and for a moment, he imagines life together. You’d be his darling little spouse who waits for him at home. He’d be a charming husband who provided for you two. Life would be amazing. 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who confesses his feelings for you right then and there. You’re taken back but the thought doesn’t disgust you. In fact, you’ve been feeling some type of endearment for him as well. 

-You both decide to make it official and become a couple. That night, you both fall asleep in your bed after spending time with each other. 

-The next few months go by perfectly. He’s moved into your apartment and spends every day attached to you. You’re so gentle and he enjoys indulging in your hobbies with you. His favorite thing is when you kiss him before bed time. 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who wakes up to the sound of something in the apartment. He goes to investigate and finds another bounty hunter. He quickly takes out the other hunter but comes to a realization. 

-it’s not safe here anymore. 

-You wake up finding him standing over another body. You begin to freak out asking for answers. 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who comes clean about everything. His job, your parents, and the money involved. His heart breaks as you burst into tears. You yell at him through sobs accusing him of never loving you. 

“Don’t ever say that, sweetheart.”

-Eventually, he knocks you out and ties you up. He puts you in the back of his car as he drives to your parents’ home. For the next few days, his mind is a wreck. You refuse to talk to him. You won’t kiss him or even look at him. He knows it’s from the shock but it’s driving him mad. 

-However, he keeps his eyes on the prize. 

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who delivers you to your parents in one piece. They’re overjoyed to have you back. They pay him more than the original price tag. He takes the money and leaves. 

-For the next few months, things began to fall back in place for you. You were hurt and afraid after what occurred. However, you were healing after being placed in therapy. Your parents even with you and sorted out family issues that caused you to run away. 

-You think about the bounty hunter, every now and then. You miss him and hate him all at the same time. Yet, you were starting to let go. It was better to forget that time with him. 

-Until…

-Yandere Bounty Hunter who returns to your life. He’s set up a perfect little villa in the countryside where nobody can locate you. He kidnaps you in your sleep and whisks you away. 

-You wake up in a panic afterwards. Yandere Bounty Hunter who attempts to calm you down. He explains about how he waited before the dust settled to pick you up. He chose somewhere secluded where you can raise a family together. If you don’t want children, then he’ll settle for raising some pets with you.

-It’ll be perfect just like how the two of you discussed back in the apartments. 

-Don't worry, he's retired from his job. He knows how much you hated it.

-He kisses you and hugs you in his arms. It’s been so long since he’s done this. He’s missed every inch of your body since you left him. 

-It’ll be ok though. He understands that you need time to adjust to your new home. It also doesn’t matter if you decide to run away later. After all, he’ll still find you no matter where you go. 

-Hopefully, your parents hire another bounty hunter to find you soon. 

[alittlebitofloveliness]

Could you do some modern day Soda headcanons please? I love him so much and I love your blog so much soooooo….

Ok so soda is tricky for me to write but I tried my best!!!

Modern Au Sodapop Headcanons

-Drinks every single energy drink imaginable. Rockstar? Like its water. Prime? For the plot. 5 hour energy? He’ll down it in five seconds. Darry is HORRIFIED.

-Is pretty enough he’s one of those people who becomes moderately famous on TikTok without having to really do much. His followers notice he’s always talking to someone off camera, and they’re desperate to find out who it is, but Soda only ever responds to comments with ‘oh that’s just Stevie, he doesn’t like TikTok’.

-Soda’s followers have a lot of theories about this ‘Stevie’. Soda is weirdly tight lipped about him, despite the fact he often breaks off mid rant in videos to talk to him. There’s also the fact that the rest of the gang is often around/in the background of videos, but the mysterious ‘Stevie’ never appears. (okok I’ll stop here before this becomes a Stevepop social media au)

-Regularly forgets to take his ADHD meds and Darry often has to remind him

-Would either have a hockey flow or a mullet (whatever y’all think, personally I think modern Soda with a hockey flow tracks with his character)

-One of those people who loves horror movies but is also completely terrified of even the dumbest ones and has to sleep with the lights on for weeks afterwards. Steve makes fun of him for it, but will also stay up on the phone with him if Soda watches one by himself and freaks himself out

-Has a million fidget spinners because they actually help him focus on stuff when he needs to

-Soda in modern AU wouldn’t call Ponyboy ‘kid brother’ as a nickname (don’t get me wrong, I love it but Ive never heard it used irl). Instead, I think him and Darry (and thus the rest of the gang) refer to Pony as ‘shrimp’ and Ponyboy absolutely hates it  “where’s the shrimp” “he’s has track practice ‘till four, you of all people should know that Dar” (brought to you by me and my interactions with my own little brothers)

-The whole gang is super into video games, but Soda is kind of shit at them and lowkey grumpy about it

-Every teacher he’s ever had has done that thing where they expect him to be exactly like his older sibling, and therefore expect him to be a model student like Darry, and every time they are proven entirely wrong. By the time the same teachers see Ponyboy’s name on their class lists they’re terrified of what to expect

-He definitely had that horrible middle school boy stage where he just reeked of axe body spray and BO before he figured out proper hygiene

-Every two weeks him and Steve end up doing some sort of YouTube deep dive where they end up being convinced of some sort of wild conspiracy theory that Ponyboy and sometimes Darry have to spend three hours talking them out of

-Uses far too many emojis in texts

-He had a pet hamster once and you know that thing died in the most horrendous way imaginable. Two-bit probably farted into the cage at one point as a joke and the poor thing asphyxiated to death or some shit like that

-He’s that kid in group projects who does nothing and tanks the presentation for everyone by mispronouncing half the words on the slides some other group member made for him

-Him and Steve are so inseparable that when they’re not together people will be like ‘where’s your boyfriend’ and he just answers without thinking before flushing really hard and sputtering a bit. 

-One of those people that casually catches snakes with his bare hands. Steve HATES it and Ponyboy is TERRIFIED of snakes so he gets in trouble with Darry if he does it too often or brings them near the house

[ros-sauce]

Mizu5 spoilers/ramblings under the cut

I'm not sure how to word this in a way that doesn't sound shallow, but I think having Mizuki wear the horrendous culture festival t-shirt during the event was such a smart move. It added some misery seasoning on top of the pain. Like, being put in a vulnerable position is always terrible, but not looking good when it happens makes you feel even smaller, makes the whole thing even worse

And this is especially true when it comes to Mizuki!! For her, cute outfits are like armor against the world. Like, for one, being cute obviously makes her happy, so it helps mitigate emotional damage. But also, Also, I can't be the only one who's noticed how voluminous her outfits tend to be, right? Everything she owns significantly alters her silhouette, by way of either layering or being oversized. Her style is The Dysphoria Hoodie's $300 cousin, and I refuse to believe that wasn't a very purposeful choice.

Wearing such a form-fitting and frankly ugly outfit while being outed must've been especially awful for her, I think. I also wore something horrible and Totally Not Me when I came out as trans, and it was awful, so I can only imagine how bad that sucked for someone like her, who values being cute as much as she does. The focus it puts on her chest being flat is also terrible, especially when compared to how well her current cardigan hides it.

To conclude, aauaughfhfbfb. Agony. They did a great job making her have the worst day ever

[hannahssimblr]

Christmas day is white and razor sharp. A blanket of cloud extends far over the fjord, the sky so bright it stings the eye. We walk together, the Larsens and me, on a path, unsheltered from a biting wind that slices over the inlet, head on, roaring in my ears, sending tears streaming from my eyes. Astrid’s gloved hand is warm in mine, humming a tuneless melody as she gazes out over the water, her hair billowing behind like a white flag. 

We trail behind the others. Gitte and Mia, hiking purposefully in suitable shoes, and Pernille, Felix in a sling on her back, his fat little limbs hanging there, insulated in his thick, puffy winter suit. They’re all talking, not bothering with English now as we’ve fallen out of earshot, but it’s pleasant anyway, just to hear the joyful peaks of their voices rising over the bluster. Pointing out seabirds to Felix, who does not care, then bursting in to simultaneous laughter about something. It echoes, carrying far out over the tattered land around us.

“It’s fairly great here,” I say, and Astrid, distracted, turns her head. “Hm?”

“Like, I like it here. Your house, and your family and all.”

“Oh, yes. It’s fine.”

“If this was my home, I’d be here the whole time. I’d come back to visit every chance I could.”

“Easy to say that, I think, but it was a boring place to grow up.”

The ground is uneven, pockmarked with puddle-filled divots from this morning’s rainfall. Around us is a wild landscape with silver headed wild grasses shimmering in the wind. When I run my hands over them, they hiss through my fingers.

“I think that’d be okay.”

She laughs. “It would not be okay. You, of all people, loathe being bored. Imagine being stuck here,” gesturing around us, a palette of grey, bare trees, orange roofs standing out like beacons. “You would want to die.”

“It seems okay for your mother. And for Pernille.” 

“Oh, yes, Pernille,” she rolls her eyes. “Who didn’t know she had the option to leave, and now it’s too late.” 

“Well, she seems happy. I know things with her boyfriend didn’t work out and all, but she’s got a nice quiet life at home with your mom and Felix. There are worse things.”

Astrid scoffs, as though happiness in these circumstances is inconceivable. “She could have gone to college, travelled the world, dated a man who wasn’t a known failure. She’s twenty-seven, and this is it? In her hometown with a baby, living again with her mother? At weekends she goes for coffee with the women she knows from school, and they are all the same as her. She–” she breaks off, catching sight of my expression. “I don’t mean to speak harshly of her, obviously. Maybe she is happy. I don’t know, but I find it all frightening.”

This makes me laugh. “Frightening?”

“Yes! See?” throwing a hand toward her sister, I look, and see nothing to be horrified of. A woman carrying a baby, is all. Heavy winter coat, woollen hat, nose red from the wind. “Pernille was cool, once. Always going to parties and things, wearing fashionable clothing, smoking weed all the time… the pregnancy did horrendous things to her body, too. Her hair was falling out, and she swelled up so much her clothes never fit anymore. Oh, and the birth.” She shudders in horror. “I’m glad I will never do it.”

“Give birth?”

“Of course. I would never. And what would I do with an infant? What would we talk about? It’s an outrageous concept.”

“Oh, c’mon. I know there are downsides, but don’t you ever look at Felix and think he’s such a cool little guy? I think it’d be fun. You could put the baby in one of those sling things and bring them around the place. Give them a set of keys to look at for an hour. They think everything is amazing.”

“You are naïve.” 

“I just don’t think babies are horrible.”

“Well, me neither. They are fine. But I don’t plan to have one.”

“Never? Like, not a chance?”

“No,” her mouth curls up. Comical. And indeed, Astrid. Pregnant. Astrid with a baby in her arms. It’d never occurred to me to envisage such things before, as being responsible for a pregnancy was never my agenda, but it’s a near alien idea. She wouldn’t do it. She’s not the type of woman to subject herself to it. The blood and tears and sick of it all. 

She looks at me. “Would you?”

I hesitate. “Well, I don’t know. I suppose not.”

Ahead, the others are stopping to greet a woman who has come down the path in the opposite direction. In her fifties, wrapped up for the weather, greeting Gitte with a hug.

Astrid swears under her breath and turns herself away. I frown. “Who’s that?” Behind me are greetings, “Hej, Pernille, Mia!” Wishing each other a happy Christmas, chattering happily. 

“Oh, she’s a friend of my mothers. Very boring. One of those women that just goes on and on forever. I don’t want to talk to her today.”

“Hej, Astrid!” The woman calls out, adding something else I cannot understand. Astrid turns slowly with a grimace, like the action is painful. “Hej,” she mutters. “Glædelig jul.”

She addresses me, then. A barrage of words I cannot even begin to understand. “Eh,” I say. “Jeg kan ikke tale dansk.” I cannot speak Danish. One of the few phrases I know. My pronunciation was diabolical, I can tell by her sympathetic expression, but it gets the point across. She addresses Gitte instead, while I stand there smiling, being discussed without the luxury of understanding. Having to assume what is being said is both flattering and factual. 

“Ahh!” the woman says, fascinated. Yes, yes, very interesting. Your friend’s daughter’s Irish boyfriend is here. There he is, now. Have a good look at him while you have the chance.  

“Oh, let’s just go home,” Astrid mutters. “It’s cold.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s go home. They will talk forever.”

“Are you sure? Looks like it isn’t too far to the end of the walk. We could finish it.”

“No,” she says. “I’d rather go. I want to be by the fire.”

She doesn’t seem herself. The body language of a small, insecure person. Shoulders hunched, face turned defensively away, and this frown upon her face, brows pulled together. She wipes her running nose with the back of her glove. 

“Uh, yeah, okay then,” I say. “Are you all good?”

“Yes, of course, I just would prefer to be home now.”

“Okay, yeah, fine then.” We turn to leave, but Gitte calls for us. “Astrid? Jude?”

“Yeah, we’re just cold. We’re gonna head back,” I say. 

“Helle has invited us for gløgg at her home. We are going, but if you don’t want to…?”

I look to Astrid, already marching ten feet ahead. I scratch my brow. “Uh, I don’t think so, Gitte. We just want to get home, but enjoy yourself. Nice to… tell Helle it was nice to meet her.”

I meet Mia’s gaze for one moment, smirking to herself, before turning away. 

I hurry after my girlfriend and take her hand again, unsteady feet on the terrain, dodging the puddles, but the wind is at our backs this time, propelling us toward home. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

[shotoyami]

hi! loving your writing so far so i thought i’d drop a request in the box :)

could you maybe write a scott summer’s x male!reader where they’re both younger (as in students themselves at the x-mansion) and Scott is struggling with migraines and the reader helps him out/comforts him?

whether your write it or not, thank you for you time and have a good day!

prenotes: this is so super cute, for real. Scott needs the biggest hug guys, please, someone hug this man because his supposed wife isn’t hugging him enough (all the love to Jean, but move over, Scott’s my man).

Thank you so much for the request, anon<3

pairing: young Scott Summers + young male reader

warnings: one mention of “pills” (ibuprofen)

genre: fluff, because obviously

notes: idk what I was trying to do in terms of perspective, so please disregard that if it’s a bit confusing… migraines suck, that’s fairly well known, but I imagine it’s horrendous for Scott since it’s from a mutation. like, take a normal migraine and multiply it by a thousand. ouch.

word count: 700 +

Migraines hurt a lot guys

Ever since the arrival of new students, the new generation of x-men, Xavier’s school is just the fullest it’s ever been. Life spread all throughout the mansion, so many classrooms filled. This, of course, is a great thing, especially for those who feel a bit outcast– especially for students like Scott.

Being surrounded by people who are different, like him, was immensely relaxing. This doesn’t necessarily mean that he wasn’t still scared of hurting others, no, but it certainly helped to be surrounded by the support of other people scared just the same.

The best support system for him being his best friend, (y/n), a boy around his age, a fellow mutant who’s still learning how to control his mutation.

Now, every mutation has its setback (or, in some cases, setbacks), and for Scott that is horrible, horrible migraines. Like, seriously, killer migraines.

Today is one of those days, where Scott has locked himself in his dorm as a consequence of such. His curtains are drawn, every sound that would be happening daily is completely absent.

A soft knock comes to his door. “...Scott, it’s (y/n). It’s 2 p.m., the professor was looking for you.” His best friend’s voice calls, causing Scott to groan and, reluctantly, get up to open the door. He must’ve looked pretty bad, because (y/n) would wince at the sight of him. “Yeesh…alright, migraine day for you, Scott?” He only slightly nods in response before retreating back into his dorm and collapsing onto his bed.

(y/n) carefully walks into the room, closing the door softly and slowly setting down the work he’d gathered onto his friend’s dresser. He glances over at Scott, who’s hiding from the world underneath his blanket, and chuckles softly. “Gosh, Summers, you act as though your migraine is eating you alive.” He jokes, and receives a glare in response. With a sigh, he sits on the edge of his friend’s bed. “So, have you taken any meds yet? Eaten anything? If not, I don’t mind grabbing something for you real fast. That should make you feel a bit better.” Scott huffs, but grumbles to himself. “What was that?”

“I haven’t.” He mumbles. (y/n) hums in response, nodding, “I’ll grab something for you then. Oatmeal? Soup? Mac and Cheese?” Scott blinks at his friend. What a particularly specific list of options. “...mac and cheese.”

(y/n) nods in understanding and slowly rises. “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.” When he leaves, Scott is left in silence yet again.

Silence. A usually comforting sound, something to be considered peaceful. But, not right now. Never when a migraine was raging. Scott frowns to himself, hearing the sound of a clock ticking somewhere. It was rather grating, the sound of that clock. Right as he was about to make a complaint of some sort, the door to his room opens again, causing Scott to softly hiss.

“Sorry, sorry. Should’ve warned you with a knock, huh?” (y/n) swiftly apologies, walking in carefully with the warm meal. He brings the bowl over to Scott, offering a spoon. “I grabbed some ibuprofen too, so don’t scarf it all down at once, alright?”

His friend sat silently, allowing Scott to eat in the sound of peace, or at least as peaceful as anything can be with a migraine. About halfway through the bowl, (y/n) hands him a couple of pills. When the food is finally finished, Scott lays back while his friend moves the bowl somewhere in in the room.

He just lays there for a bit, resting his eyes while he silently hopes for the medicine to kick in as quickly as possible. After a few moments, the bed sort of shifts, causing Scott’s eyes to snap open. “Gosh man, calm down. This ain’t the first time I’ve done this– no homo.” He shoots (y/n) a glare in response, which causes the other teen to chuckle. “I’m sorry, maybe a little homo. C’mere.”

(y/n) pulls Scott against him, wrapping himself comfortably around the other teen. The two sort of melt into one another, and Scott finally feels himself relax a bit. “Get some rest, Scott.” Is the last thing he hears as he slowly starts to slip away.

[targaryenrealnessdarling]

I’m Stuck! | Ettore Crackfic

Summary: Ettore happens upon you, completely stuck in the doors of the Box and will help you out on one condition | Word Count : 1.1k~ | Warnings below the cut~

A/N: you should all completely blame @ewanmitchellcrumbs​ for this bc this is...something man (but also loved that u peer pressured me into this). I’m not even gonna put my taglist here, saving you all cos truly idek what to say lol, this is going deep on the masterlist <3 ily 

Warnings: terrible dialogue, porn-level sex, stuck!trope, ass slapping, p in v sex, creampie

Nobody told him that being stuck on a weird prison spaceship would make a man indecently horny 24/7.

 The last few times Ettore had ventured down to the Box, it had been occupied. So he was made to wait to have a wank.

 What decent man has to wait just to tug the flesh snake? he thinks, as he makes his way down the ladder, huffing a sigh, knowing that it’s likely to be occupied again.

 He swings his arms as he walks towards the device nestled in the corner of the dark hallway, his eyes on his feet. It’s been probably a solid…few hours since he last had a tug, so he’s likely to be pent up again.

 He stops right in his tracks when his eyes meet the funniest fucking thing he’s seen in a while.

 It’s just a body without a head and shoulders, an ass poking out of the Box’s doors. He barely even recognises her without seeing her face, but her annoyed sounds give it away.

 “What the fuck are you doing?” he laughs, probably the first genuine smile he’s cracked in a while.

 Her hands struggle with the sides of the automated door that are pressed against her middle, “What does it fucking look like! I’m stuck, you idiot!”

 A half-restrained chuckle leaves him, before it evolves into genuine hysterical laughter. The kind that makes tears cover his eyes and makes his stomach hurt.

 "Will you shut the fuck up and help me?" She says, annoyed. He can imagine how embarrassed she must look, though he can’t see her face.

 He wipes his eyes, composing himself, "You know what? I'm tempted not to. This is too funny"

 She grunts annoyed, still trying to pull her top half free from the doors. God, it’d be so easy to help her. Push one button and the doors would open. It’s like those horrible pornos he used to watch where some girl would be stuck head first in a washing machine or something. And her ‘step-brother’ would happen upon her.

 He bites his lip at the thought. And feels his dick get hard.

 Maybe there was an alternative to the Box.

 A more, fulfilling one.

 She tenses up notably, when he presses his clothed erection against her ass, “That better not be what I think it is”

 He laughs, “It’s certainly not a fucking rocket, I can tell you that”

 She pushes her hips back in an attempt to make him go away, but it only encourages him further as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of her sweatpants.

 “Hey, if you let me have some fun, I’ll help you out. Deal?” he says, taking advantage of the fact she can’t see the shit-eating grin on his face.

 She huffs, annoyed at the situation she’s been put in.

 Then again. Would it really be so bad? Ettore isn’t bad on the eyes. There are definitely worse prisoners to happen upon her in this horrendous scenario, she can’t complain much that it’s him.

 “Fine” she huffs, “But no funny business”

 He grins, “Funny is my middle name”

 “Yeah right, somehow I doubt tha-ow!” she’s cut off her sentence as he pulls her sweatpants over her ass and delivers a wide firm slap to the skin there, “I didn’t say you could do that!”

 “Too bad” he snickers, “Guess you can’t do anything about it”

 He drags two digits through her folds, finding her already wet. He can feel how she tenses up at his touch and can imagine how she’s holding her lips between her teeth, to not give him the satisfaction of knowing she likes it.

 “All this for me?” he grins.

 “You wish. I just used the Box, you idiot”

 He shrugs. A pussy is a pussy, he supposes. Better than his fist.

 He plunges into her, filling her to the hilt with his cock and moaning loudly when he reaches her end, completely burying himself inside her. God when was the last time he fucked a woman? He genuinely couldn’t remember. There’s nothing quite like the feeling of a woman’s pussy, he thinks. And now he’s had another taste of it, he really doesn’t want to let it go.

 But hey ho, he might as well have fun with it while he can.

 With most of Ettore’s sexual knowledge coming from porn, unreliable mates and a…not so great past, he doesn’t really know how women work. Just put your cock in a move it around right? There’s supposed to be an orgasm involved somewhere as well, but like fuck if he knows how to do that.

 If they can’t cum from that, how else are they meant to?

 Oh well.

 He fucks her quickly, he’s so beyond pent up and his hands venture higher to grip her waist underneath the shirt she’s wearing, pulling her body back onto his cock as quickly as he’s railing her.

 He can’t deny, it does feel damn good to have a woman.

 God, I sound like such a fucking virgin when I say that, he thinks.

 Ew. Feelings. No. Back to fucking.

 He can hear her small little whines and breaths echo into the Box, muffled somewhat by the door that is stuck around her ribs. And he can tell she’s trying not to be too loud.

 Was this the elusive orgasm? She sounds like a bird in pain or something.

 He feels his own orgasm creep up on him sooner than anticipated, having not wanked for a good few hours before this happened. So with a pitiful moan and the twitching of his hips, he cums deep inside her. He kind of hoped he wouldn’t cum too quick, partly because he was enjoying fucking her so much and also because he hopes she won’t make fun of him later for it.

 After he’s done and all tuckered out, the poor thing, he pulls his softening cock out of her, mourning the loss of her warmth for a moment, before tucking himself away. He feels his heart going so fast in his chest he has to brace against a wall to keep himself standing, with his eyes closed, replaying what just happened in his head, keeping it for the wank bank later.

 Almost so entranced he doesn’t realise that she’s turned her torso, so she can easily slide out of the door she was previously ‘stuck’ in, slipping out without so much as a complaint.

 She smoothes down her clothes with a content sigh and pulls her sweatpants back up over her hips, using her palms to make sure her hair doesn’t look awry.

 He looks at her, mouth open in shock, his dick still warm and his blood running cold. But she simply shrugs and gives him a smile.

 “Thanks. Washing machine next time, yeah?” she says before turning on her heel and sauntering off, looking far too pleased with herself. She leaves Ettore utterly speechless in the hallway next to the Box, with the doors now shut without her stuck in them.

 What. The. Fuck.

 Next time?

 It really is like those pornos.

dividers by firefly-graphics

[mockerycrow]

Mark Me Up (Please) - (Soap x GN!Reader)

soap masterlist - crow’s mega masterlist

Summary: You make Johnny’s head spin with everything you do, so it’s no surprise that he wants your teeth sliding against his throat.

[WARNINGS: hickeys + lovebites, not full on smut but heavily suggestive, dirty thoughts, sub!soap. he’s also so in love.]

Johnny found himself in awe of you. He has never met anyone who has made him feel so.. good. He’s never met anyone who has made him feel so needy. Every touch of yours lingers on his skin, burning into his memory whenever your fingertips brush against his arm, just to past by him in a tight space. You always capture one hundred percent of his attention whenever you part your lips to talk, and he hopes that his staring at the curve of your lips isn’t too noticeable. Johnny went for a long time with no distractions, with no one to think about late at night, until you came along.

The first time he thought about you in a less than platonic way, he felt dirty—and wrong. He was laying on his bed with his hands covering his face, feeling the heat on his cheeks increase by the second as his mind is running miles per second, pointing out details about you. Your smile, your facial features, your body, everything. But he began to feel worse—and aroused—when he imagined your hand around his throat with your lips to his jaw, sucking a visible and dark hickey into his skin. He got so hard in his boxer briefs that it fucking hurt.

Johnny knows it’s a bad idea, he knows it is, but that exact thought has been coming back to him every time he thinks about you. Your lips on his neck, claiming him in the form of marks and bites. He can’t help but imagine the faint feeling of you sucking on his skin, pulling it between your teeth and sending shivers down his spine. It’s got him dizzy when he thinks about it, and it’s absolutely down right horrendous when he thinks about you muttering possessive phrases in his ear. Johnny wants to be yours, wants you to show him that he’s yours. He later sits there and quietly curses himself out because nothing has ever happened between you two; he’s getting so attached to this.. idea, an idea that’ll never happen because you haven’t even kissed..

So imagine his surprise when you have him against a wall a week later. Your hand is wrapped around the base of his throat with your lips against his jaw. Johnny’s lips are parted and a soft noise leaves him, his heart jumping out of his chest as his own hands immediately grab onto the back your shirt, his arms wrapped around you in an attempt to pull you closer. You drag your tongue against his skin before sucking on the skin right below his jawline—it’s a horrible idea, a way too obvious spot, but it’s clear that Johnny doesn’t care when he lets out a breathy and drawn out, “FuuuuUck—“

His hands grasp at your shirt again, unable to keep still as you chuckle against his neck, slowly trailing to a different spot on his neck while dragging your tongue. You teasingly give the spot a sloppy kiss and slightly suck on the skin before letting go, murmuring, “You want people to see, don’t you? That’s why you aren’t stopping me.” Johnny nearly whines when you don’t follow through with giving him another hickey, barely hearing you. He swallows spit as he processes your words, head fuzzy already and he nods quickly. “Don’care if they see, wan’em to.”

He’s slurring his words as one of his hands moves from the back of your shirt to the back of your head and he doesn’t necessarily push you against his neck, but he doesn’t know where to keep his hands. Johnny can’t help it, either; he never thought this would happen, he never thought you’d give him what he wanted—no, what he needed. The thing is, receiving a hickey or a lovebite isn’t exactly pleasurable. It’s arousing and even a bit painful at times, but Johnny is chasing that pain—he’s chasing the feeling of your lips on his skin everytime.

Johnny’s body melts when you suck his skin between your lips again, the hand around the base of his neck tightening. He subconsciously pushes his hips against yours as he begins to babble from something so simple. “Mh, need this, I need this—need ya t’mark me. Want ta’belong to ya—“

You bite down on the spot where his neck meets his shoulder, sinking your teeth into his muscle; not enough to break skin, but enough to hurt and leave a mark, and that’s enough for him. Johnny lets out a moan from the bite, the pain radiating up his neck and down his arm, but it only makes his cock twitch in his pants. He’s probably leaking and staining his boxers again, but he doesn’t mind. Not when you borderline laugh at his reaction. You pull away from his neck to look at him. “You like that? Like when I bite you, Johnny?”

Johnny immediately nods as he makes eye contact with you and boy does he look as wrecked as he feels. His mohawk is out of sorts, his clothing is jostled around and his eyelids are lidded while his cheeks remain flushed. His lips are parted to complete the look, and the just want to swallow him whole like this, especially when he looks at you with such adoration, want, and attraction. Your hands move to under his shirt, slowly trailing up his torso, causing him to press into your touch. “Please..” He sputters, begging—and he’s not even sure what he’s begging for completely.

You tilt your head to the side wordlessly as your hands press into his hips, his waist, right below his pecs, groping him until you hear Johnny whine. “Please, Bonnie.” His voice is more insistent and you have a good guess of what he wants when he tilts his head to the side, baring the side of his neck that doesn’t have any hickeys or bites. “I don’t know what you’re asking for, Johnny.” You murmur. your fingers go to his waist band of his pants and you tease him by pulling his pants down just enough for air to brush against his v-line, causing him to shiver. Johnny pushes his hips against yours again as he looks at you with a increasingly reddening face. “Please bite me, mh? Want everyone to see it, feels good when ya do it..” He’s breathless and grunts out when you grab his hips and hold him against your own hips firmly, and Johnny nearly starts rutting against you—but you quickly dig your fingers into the skin of the top part of his exposed hips.

Light pain pricks at his nerves when you do so, and you speak in a low voice. “Keep your hips still or I won’t bite you ever again.” Johnny’s eyes widen when you say that and he nods quickly, putting all of his brat-ish antics to rest. You hum in approval and you lean near his jaw, tracing your lips against his skin. You whisper, “Good boy. Keep yourself still and I’ll leave marks places that you’ll feel for days, hm? Maybe I’ll make you cum, too.”

Johnny’s eyes roll back in his head for a moment at your near-promise, a soft noise leaving his lips as you suck a hickey into the side of his neck, nodding once again—but to be fair, anything you say is something he would nod about. You could promise him that you’ll give him a treat if he’s good and he’ll sink to his knees in front of you, or you could slap him across the face and Johnny would whine for more.

It’s safe to say that he often asks for you to renew your marks on him, getting addicted to the feeling of your touch.

[dehydration-stati0n]

Kid, Killer, and Law Friendship HCs

Rules Word Count: 1.0k Spoilers: Wano

Kid

Kid is hard to get close to, but once it happens, you've got a friend for life

If he catches anyone messing with you in any way, he'll beat the absolute shit out of them

He's ridiculously protective in that way, especially after what happened with Killer in Wano, he's gonna make sure none of his other friends experience pain or humiliation without him intervening

Despite what his reputation suggests, he's fairly decent at comforting people in his own special way.

He'll hand you a bottle of bourbon and the weapon of your choice, and the two of you will go blow off some steam in the area nearest to you.

If you ever asked him to build you something, he'd reluctantly go and do it. Even if he muttered a few curses under his breath as he did it, he'd secretly be really happy you asked him. He takes great pride in what he does.

If you're friends with him, it'd almost be expected of you to be a part of his little crime sprees. Killer is a good accomplice on his own, but imagine having two accomplices. The three of you would be unstoppable.

He'd almost be magnetized to you, following you around wherever you go. He really likes being around people he trusts, and you happen to be one of them. Even if neither of you say anything.

He might yell at you sometimes, but he doesn't mean it in a mean way. It's kinda like his love language. He gets loud to show he cares about you. It's another one of the weird quirks he shares with people he likes.

Arm wrestles anyone??

I could see them being one of his favorite past times.

Kid is really open-minded. You could bring up almost anything and he wouldn't judge you for liking or hating whatever that thing might be.

He wouldn't mind helping you put on makeup, he actually really likes doing it for his pals.

If you manage to get him to open up to you about his emotions and how he feels, just know you're at the very peak of affinity with the redhead.

Just you, him, and Killer, dressing horrendously and causing problems.

Killer

If you're friends with Kid, you're friends with Killer. You either get both of them or none of them.

He's so thankful you're here, he desperately needs someone to help out with watching Kid

Do you like cooking? He likes cooking. Maybe you could do it with him? There are a lot of people to feed and he'd really appreciate the help.

His way of comforting people is WAYY different from Kids. Some might even say more humane.

He's more of a hugger in these situations. Not much of a talker but he can comfort you physically.

He and Kid are horrible to have as enemies, but if you somehow manage to become friends with them, they'll be the most loyal friends you've ever met. Whatever you need, Killer is there to help you out.

You two are the therapy friends for the crew.

He's really good at calming people down, so if you're ever mad, stressed, or upset in any way, it's probably best to go to him instead of Kid.

He's really knowledgeable about random things within the One Piece world and will be very internally excited if you ever wanted to sit and hear him ramble.

He likes to check in on you and the other members of the crew as often as he can. You've all been through a lot together and he likes to make sure you're all good.

He has a great memory and hardly ever forgets important dates. So if no one else shows up for your birthday or whatever niche date you might find important, just know Killer would be there.

He really likes doing things for others. It wouldn't be much of a surprise if you woke up one day to breakfast already made, or errands you were meaning to do already done.

Killer has such a great adoration for graffiti art and likes to go out with you to spray abandoned houses or broken walls with paint. He likes the artistic expression that graffiti holds.

Law

He's really big on quality time so he'll frequently invite you to sit with him in his office or out on the dock depending on if you're underwater or not.

He wouldn't mind it if you rambled on about something, in fact, he'd almost encourage you to do so.

He'd constantly ask for your feedback on a lot of his plans or thoughts he has.

The absolute dryest sense of humor. All. The. Time.

He'll try to solve just about all of your problems. Your noticing you have slow reflexes? Try this. Coffee's giving you headaches? Let him try making a pot. Something about your eye is bugging you? Let him take a look.

I hope you like cheap doctor visits, cause this guy will gladly treat you for free.

Sure, he's normally a private guy, but he'd be so honest with you. If you ask, he'll tell you. You're probably the only person who's seen him smile, or laugh for that matter.

He'd let you draw on his arm with a pen while he worked.

He's pretty strange himself, so if you had any out-of-the-ordinary hobbies, he wouldn't be the one to judge.

He wouldn't ever admit it in front of the Strawhats, but he really does like to explore, especially if it's just the two of you.

There's just something about wandering a new area with someone he finds endearing that's just so pleasant to him.

He loves to have mini-debates with you. Something about his thoughts being questioned makes him fall into a welcomed rabbit hole of new ideas and stronger plans.

Your lawyer in times of trouble.

Most nights it'll be you, Law, and the rest of the crew, sitting around below deck and playing whatever board games y'all got on you at the moment. Chess, Monopoly, Uno. Sometimes you guys'll even do puzzles.

[1moreff-creator]

Do you have any Teruvid headcanons??? If so... *Grabby hands* 🥺👉👈

Hey! Man, Teruvid, huh? Well, I have to be honest and say I don’t know if I fully grasp what the dynamic would be like, but I’ll see what I can do! Non-despair AU as always, just to keep consistency with my other ship posts :v Or, perhaps a better term would be "non-killing game AU"; it's hard to imagine Teruvid without despair lmao.

CW: Toxic relationship, gaslighting.

How this relationship would start is hard to imagine, really. Especially outside the stress of the killing game. Teruko never believed David’s cheery persona was real, so she didn’t like the guy from the start.

However, outside of the killing game, David wouldn’t be actively trying to kill anyone, and Xander and Teruko would probably still be friends, so it actually works out better than expected. Presumably, the way this works outside the killing game is that David eventually realizes Teruko doesn’t believe his façade and chooses to start dropping it around her, eventually enjoying her company just because he doesn’t have to keep up a tiring act. Teruko doesn’t like him at first, so I imagine it would be David confessing. Something like, uh...

David: We both know no one will ever love us the way we are. And we won’t love each other either, and this is going to end horribly.  Teruko: Then why the hell are you even asking? David: It’s for your benefit, you know. More than anyone else, you must be well aware your luck will ruin any relationship you ever have. Teruko: … David (fake smiling, stars in eyes): But most of them will try to be optimistic, won’t they? Thinking themselves above your luck, wishing that if they just try hard enough, this time, it will work out. How hopeful~. Teruko: … And? David (smirking): And that just means it will hurt them all the worse when it all comes crashing down. And you'll feel even more miserable after all's said and done than you did in the first place. That wouldn't happen with me. Not that I'll let you, but you wouldn't care if you hurt me anyways.

Yeah I can’t see this relationship being healthy in any way lmao.

Like, they hate each other even together, that’s the Vision of Teruvid shippers right? They would both be miserable the entire time it’s happening, since they both reinforce the worst and most damaging views the other holds. If the Ultimate Inspirational Speaker can’t even inspire himself to think things can get better, then Teruko has no reason to believe they will. And if Teruko never tries to change despite hating her life, then that confirms to David that people can’t change. The relationship is held together by the illusory comfort of confirmation bias; neither has to challenge their worldviews like they would in a relationship that genuinely made them happy, so they feel at peace in their shared misery.

Speaking of, the most common intimate interaction is venting to each other about whatever bullshit they got going on, be it unfortunate events or Speaker business annoyance. Now, neither is particularly good at giving comfort, but they’re also both bad at receiving it (they don’t understand the concept that people can feel genuine affection towards them, of course), so they settle on just… not comforting each other. Just a simple “sucks” after a long rant, or even laughing at each other’s misery, but again, illusory comfort in being able to vent out their issues without having someone actually worry and care for them, because they don’t know how to handle that.

Other than that, lots of just cuddling while doing random shit. They’re both horrendously touch starved, so they never stay physically apart if possible.

That said, though, they’re not very public with their relationship. Obviously; if Teruko never seemed to like David, then they’re suddenly together, that’s gonna raise a few eyebrows. And David still tries to keep up the Speaker persona outside his one on one interactions with Teruko, a persona that Teruko dislikes due to its disingenuity, so they never really hang out in the presence of others.

Their closest friends know, except none of them actually realize that David’s persona is a lie. They think they’re keeping it quiet not to attract attention to Teruko, given David is a public figure and all. Because of that, they actually think they’re good for each other, thinking that David’s optimism and Teruko’s pessimism balance out to be pretty functional. This fundamental misunderstanding of their relationship makes David and Teruko both feel even more alienated from their friends, which feeds into the codependency. They need each other, because they’re the only ones that get it.

Indeed, this is a serious “they would make each other so much worse” situation, I can’t see Teruvid in any other way. Unless they both get some serious therapy, and even then, the way I’ve described the relationship, it would fall apart if either of them were any more stable. So, uh, yeah.

I kinda struggle to come up with much more than this for these two, so I hope that was okay! Thanks for the ask!

[onestepbackwards]

Imagine with the self aware au in Hisui but the goddess in question is an abused victim who seeks solace in playing video games to forget their pain. Imagine Volo’s reaction to his new object of affection is crying and sees her in pain. The “goddess” also vents while playing the game, which leaves many in shock at the amount of pain their “true god” goes through! How could someone so empathetic and kind be treated so horrendously?! Volo and Ingo are willing to put aside their differences (they were the first to figure the whole “god” thing first though they both have different takes on it) to reach their object of obsession if only to rid her of her constant pain and suffering….

Ohh boy, if anyone finds out the 'God' they have been watching/possibly worshiping was being treated horribly? Or was treated horribly in the past and was still dealing with issues?

Depending on how far gone or deep belief their goes, it will affect how deeply they wish to intervene.

They all want to help, of course! But what can they do?

Ingo at least seems to have an idea. Along with the hero, who is desperate to help protect whoever has been protecting them. They keep mentioning some sort of code. They speak in harsh whispers about this code, until Volo ends up demanding to know what they are talking about.

It's clear it's about you, as he's heard your name mentioned. Ingo's eyes meet the Hero's, and he relents.

It's a bit hard to understand, though Volo catches on quickly. The 'code' they had been referring to are the number's Volo sees when he closes his eyes, or spaces out.

Ingo theorizes perhaps... Messing with those numbers could result in them being able to make contact with you. It would take time, but an attempt was better than letting you sit and suffer all alone.

Volo is immediately on board, though his reasons are a bit... more malicious.

He desires to protect you. To help you feel better, keep you safe.

And he'll take care of those that hurt you. He isn't afraid to cross that line, so long as it can help the 'True God.'

Ingo side eyes him. Volo isn't as subtle as he thinks he is, but he keeps his mouth shut. If it truly comes down to it, saving you might involve more... rough procedures.

As much as Ingo finds it unsavory, he's willing to look the other way so long as it ensures your safety.

Anything to make sure you were safe.

[merakiui]

Hey, your post about Jade wearing glasses reminded me of my favorite fact about eels. They have HORRIBLE eyesight. Not even in like a "it's not as good as other aquatic predators" way, it just fucking sucks. But they make up for it with their amazing sense of smell.

Why am I telling you this?

Cause while people focus on the idea of beastfolk being able to smell if your ovulating, menstrating, or are just in the mood. They're sleeping on the fact that the tweels could 100% smell it too.

Just wanted to leave that information there for you to do with as you please.

Yes!!! Moray eel eyesight is notoriously horrendous. It's fun to imagine Jade and Floyd needing to wear glasses when they're in human form. Although perhaps they use contacts instead. Knowing Floyd, he probably lost or broke his glasses. T_T the idea of the eels in glasses...... orz orz it's such a perfect thing to imagine hehe!!!

Their sense of smell may not be nearly as strong on land as it is in the sea, but that doesn't mean they won't catch on right away when you're ovulating, menstruating, or aroused. The room could be crowded and filled with scents, but it's easy to single you out right away. Predators are good at distinguishing appealing scents, and yours just happens to be the most enticing thing they've ever smelled. >:D

[crumblinggothicarchitecture]

Don't forget that before the concert had even started fans outside were tweeting swift, her team and the venue begging them not to use the usual pyrotechnics. Fire inside a closed off metal shell made made it even worse and for what? Some razzle dazzle while concert goers were burned by the floor grates? They knew it was too hot, they made no effort to make it less dangerous. In fact they actively made it worse! Fans passed out directly in front of the stage and despite seeing this the most she did was hold for a second to throw her own water at them. For 3 hours. Somebody died 2 songs in and over a thousand people were injured but at least they closed the vents so people without tickets couldn't hear for free! Whether it's something that would hold up in court or not, swift and her team are responsible for extreme scale negligent injuries and Ana's death. She is truly a disgusting piece of shit who doesn't care about fans outside their wallets, especially fans of color.

It truly changes my entire perception of Taylor Swift to read about things like this.

Heartbreaking. I can't imagine how hot every piece of metal in that stadium was. Like being burned by your car belt buckle every summer- but way more intense and much bigger pieces of metal.

Who in their right mind would want to use pyrotechnics during a heatwave inside of a giant metal dome that is already so much like a frying pan.

All for what? To watch Taylor Swift strut around a stage- is it worth the risk?

Dear, Taylor Swift, are your concerts really worth hospitalizing people?

It's just pure negligence- You are entirely correct.

I'm entirely certain Taylor Swift knew her own safety protocol, this is her job afterall- and went ahead with her show anyway. Horrendous attitude. Horrible.

[quartztwst]

I feel like “Luka did some fuck up shit” can co-exist with “Luka is living in a horrible circumstance” like how “Hyuna hates Luka” can co-exist with “Hyuna loves Luka”

I don’t think that Vivimeng deserve the hate that they are getting for Wiege and Hyuluka and I don’t even like Hyuluka. It’s not my favorite ship. I might like a post here and there but it’s not a favorite.

When talking about Luka and his wrong-doings to Hyuna, a lot people like to bring up their lives and circumstances because they do live in a world where Aliens keep humans as pets and slaves and mistreat them. They abuse them and expose them to a lot of horrendous things. And I feel like that can explain why Luka does what he does but some people like to use it as an excuse for him. I think that reason is only valid when he’s literally rap battling on the stage. It’s NOT an excuse to kill Hyunwoo and s/a Hyuna.

In “All-In,” we are shown a scene where Hyuna and Luka are in their younger ages in the Anakt Garden but Hyuna is being pinned onto the grass while Luka is forcing himself on her, leaning in for a kiss.

I do believe he has no idea what he’s doing. Heck, Ivan had no fucking idea what he was doing either so I do believe this is just how Luka tries to show affection or what not. But it clearly stresses and discomforts Hyuna. While singing and remembering it, she’s also in the same distress and frustration.

I don’t think we can excuse Luka for this because Hyuna is affected by it NEGATIVELY.

In “Wiege,” we are finally introduced to why Luka killed Hyunwoo with the rock. It’s because Hyunwoo hit first…

Because Luka was hogging Hyuna’s attention which made Hyunwoo uncomfortable and upset so he did what any kid does… HIT!!!

I’ve seen some people being like “IT’S BECAUSE HYUNWOO HIT FIRST!!” to Luka killing Hyunwoo but I feel like that also isn’t justified in a way. When you see a kid hitting another kid, you expect the other kid to cry or fight back but Luka KILLS Hyunwoo. You don’t expect it to go 1-100 that quickly.

We can say that our rules don’t apply to this either but Hyuna isn’t happy (her collar is red) and is really affected by her brother’s death by Luka. She also cries.

I’ve seen a comment/post saying that she was crying because she was imagining herself losing in Alien Stage but when you watch the video, it’s just going back in time 😭 so yes, she is crying about her brother’s death.

What I’m trying to say is that Luka’s harm directly and indirectly to Hyuna shouldn’t be excused because of how it shaped and affected her. It’s not something to be brushed off so easily. I know Luka has also lived a harsh life and that can also explain why he does what he does.

But yet despite all of that, Hyuna manages to still love him. She protects him too.

And I feel like this is where people don’t understand Hyuna’s character. Hyuna is a really upbeat and charismatic character with also deep feelings and hurt.

A lot of people are saying her death is a writer’s flaw and maybe it is but I do think it fits with Hyuna’s character.

Her best trait and flaw is that she loves people to the point of sacrifice. (Which I do believe shown in “Wiege” is that she lost a round because she didn’t want that other person to die. She also had the best stats too.) Why should she let Luka die?

And I really love her small speech to Luka because it shows more to her character.

Yes, she did hate him. But as she said, she also loved him and that’s why she resented him. Because of that, she had to keep moving forward and learn to heal. She told Luka to start forgiving and healing too.

I feel like it made more sense because there isn’t really a justice system for Luka to get punished. All he can do is forgive himself and move forward.

Overall, I don’t think we say “oh, Luka is totally excused for those things because Hyuna forgave him” it’s more of that Hyuna wants him to heal and those things ARE wrong.

I feel like the fandom doesn’t look at their story as a story but more of a “will they, won’t they?” type thing and I think it makes them see Hyuluka’s story in the wrong angle.

It makes them try to justify Luka so he's shippable to Hyuna but it's probably not the way to look at their story.

(Some of my opinions are probably wrong but i would like to see your guys' opinions because I've seen a lot on twitter lol)