#romeoyaps

[hypers-omniac]

OMG Gorgon Gaz with a silver tongue save me…

All of his words are so honey-coated I KNOW it. He’s so fucking manipulative and you don’t even know it until you’re completely under his thumb. Saying things like they’re common sense until they are common sense- of course you belong to him, it would be silly to think anything else. I want him to be a girlboss. I want him to gaslight. I want him to gatekeep. I want him to protect you using the exact same sweet tone to the person that hurt you. Embarrassing them or turning them to stone if they look at you wrong. All while never raising his voice, despite the venom in his eyes. (Insert joke here about the snakes and his venom)

IM ON A MYTHOLOGY KICK

[hypers-omniac]

(Whistles as if I didn’t look at this image for a solid 10 minutes)

First aid

(He needs a get well kiss)

[hypers-omniac]

NYMPH READER NYMPH READER

Omgggg love the idea of a water nymph reader and Price who swats at her like a bug LMAO. Annoyed to no end by the little thing hmm…

Cw: just a little fingering tehe. Got carried away and how could I not when it’s Price? Maybe a little degradation. This isn’t smut, it wasn’t supposed to turn into smut. But again I can’t help myself around this man

It starts when him and his team are sent off into the forest to try and get rid of something that’s been plaguing the local village. A cyclops, or maybe a basilisk or gorgon. Regardless, they send in the troops, scattering through the forest to try and locate it. They search for hours, coming up empty handed. It frustrates them all to no end- but at least they know it’s not a banshee.

Price stops at a watering hole, taking a short breather to wipe the sheen of sweat from his face. He’s pissed. Patience cut short after not even baking able to find the creature for so long. He squats down next to the water, rocks sinking into the rugged soles of his boots. His mood isn’t made any better by the harsh sun, beating down even through the thick canopy of the trees. It creates a greenhouse, just humid enough to irritate his bones and make him feel somehow even more achey than he usually is. All it takes is one moment of lost focus.

You damn near scare the piss out of him when he sees your eyes lookin’ at him from under the water. You got that blue-eyed stare, baby. Popping just your eyes out of the water- loose water lilies and foxglove getting caught in your hair. Your unblinking eyes are trained on him, and frankly, it’s creepin’ him out, sweetheart. He doesn’t think much of it. Water nymphs aren’t typically agressive, so he takes it as a sign that he should probably be on his way.

Except… you follow him. Hiding behind trees poorly. He knows you’re following him, you dense little thing. Your eyes are so wide, and you still haven’t said anything to him. Getting a little too close for his comfort as he grunts, radioing in occasionally to report still no progress on the entity.

You flit around him like an annoying little bug after that, still not saying anything, but your big ol’ doe eyes trained on the buttons on his uniform, his dog tags, his gun, his helmet- every part of him so so shiny, glinting in the light. He brushes your hand away whenever you try and reach, and you both grow increasingly frustrated until you huff at him, and start tugging him into the treeline.

He’s just about had it by now- the grumpy old man grunting obscenities at you as you continue to drag him along. He’s letting you though, too emotionally exhausted to really put up that much of a fight. Or nearly pisses you off more- just because water nymphs aren’t typically agressive doesn’t mean you can’t kick his ass! (You can’t. He’s like twice your size, babes.)

Then, you deposit him right in front of the thing his team was hunting. You tap your foot on the ground, looking up at him with a scrunched nose and narrowed eyes as he radios it in, mood immediately fixed. You snag one of his dogtags as your prize, flitting just out of his reach before he can try and stop you. He grunts, pinching the bridge of his nose while he waits for backup and decides he can just get another one.

Unfortunately for him, you’re spurred on by his acceptance of defeat. Approaching him cautiously like a stray cat, eyes trained on him as you reach for one of his buttons. You really only want the shiny metal, but he hasn’t quite put that bit together yet. So when you start unbuttoning his shirt, he’s confused to say the least- trying to brush your hands away.

“Reward.” Is what you mutter, indignant, as you scowl slightly. Still pissed by the way he cursed at you and brushed you off. He takes this.. the entirely wrong way, a short huff escaping him from amusement. He’s taking your hands and pinning you to the nearest tree, face too close to yours.

“Reward, sweet’eart? Is that what y’want?”

All bets are off after that. Thankfully his team can take care of the cyclops (or gorgon, or basilisk) on their own. He’s too busy with you as you squirm on his fingers, mocking you about the reward you earned as he pumps his fingers in and out of your needy pussy. He’s still irritated, though. But that doesn’t mean he won’t be coming back.

[hypers-omniac]

Actively obsessed with Ghost in a paranormal AU. Either way- with the reader or Ghost as the spooky spirit haunting the other.

No cw other than death because they’re.. ghosts. Otherwise maybe a bit sad but mostly lowkey fluffy.

He does his best to ignore you. It’s hard, the way it makes gooseflesh rise onto his pale skin, his hair standing in end. It’s not that he’s trying to ignore you- it’s that he genuinely thinks you aren’t there, no matter how much you beg and plea for him to kiss you again. It always sounds like you’re crying, and it always makes his jaw clench hard enough for his teeth to crack- fissures in his enamel that hurt like cavities.

You go to grasp at him, to shake him, and it just phases right through him. It almost hurts from how cold it is on his prickled skin, and he pushes away the thought that he can feel your fingers on his biceps. No one else can see you, but you just know he can, and that’s why it’s so frustrating! You just want him to pay attention to you, kiss you again.

On the other side, he can’t even bear to look at you. He can still see the blood running down your forehead, and even though you look at him, your eyes are still dead. He’s so used to being hurt by his trauma that he automatically assumes it’s just another fucked up things about him. Sure, why not add visual and tactile hallucinations to the list? He’s not surprised. It’s his fault, after all. It was his job to protect you, and he failed. Of course your memory haunts him. He nearly breaks as you press a kiss to his cheek, squeezing his eyes shut and his fingers into fists as sits up in bed, scrubbing a hand down his sweat-slicked face. He’s tired, and the both of you know he’ll never be the same again.

The only way you get him to actually believe you’re there is when you pull a poltergeist on him like a child throwing a tantrum- books being thrown off the bookcases, tables flipped over. Your screams hurt- nearly burst his fuckin’ ears, darlin’. It’s only then does he start talking quietly to you, deciding that your giggles- however creepy they me at times- are still much better than your screams he's so used to hearing.

The other way around? oh, you immediately know its your Simon. Can feel the way his arms wrap around behind you in the kitchen on a cold, lonely morning. Maybe it's a figment of your imagination- but what's the harm in talking to air?

It’s a little less lonely, even if you can’t look directly at him. Only getting cold touches as a response as you tease or pick on him. Sometimes, when things get a little easier, you pick on him for the irony from his callsign. He always pulls you against him for that, regardless of what you’re doing. You scold him, and falter when you realize the only person who can get burnt when you’re over the stove anymore is you. The only person who can stumble and fall in the shower into a pile of giggles is you. The only person in your bed- even if it feels like he’s there- is you.

It’s a push and pull between feeling like you’re going crazy and being completely at peace. Which… itself is maddening. So maybe you buy an Ouija board to try and talk to him. What of it? In sickness and in health, my love. And as it turns out, the reaper himself cannot part you two.

What a hopeless romantic, Simon always was.

Or… maybe even reader who’s introduced to Simon only after he’s dead? UGH too many ideas need ghost cum ):

[hypers-omniac]

Shout out to my friend who planted the idea…

I present: monster fucker bingo. But with every card, I will write a one-shot. Leading to the creation of: Monster-fucking-September..

I will see you on the first.

RB to boost! I’d love to see other creators in on this too 🤭

[hypers-omniac]

Hmm… kissing Gaz and candy…

The hard sugar of the sucker clicks against your teeth as you mindlessly move it around your mouth. The sweetness is just enough to satisfy you for now, rolling your tongue against the smoothness of the candy and the stem attached to the end of the product.

It sticks to your lips, creating a glossy sheen of saccharine glucose that you happily lick away with the tip of your tongue. It’s mindless and sweet and pleasant- a mundane treat to boost your mood. Kyle agrees, even though he doesn’t have a dum-dum stuck between his lips.

Kyle sits next to you, a familiar presence in the quiet rec-room. Happy to just exist in each other’s space quietly, your eyes glued to the somewhat staticky television that plays something you’ve forgotten the name of. Kyle is watching a far more interesting show- his eyes glued to the way your cheeks slightly hallow around the ball of candy.

“What flavor is it?” And “Can I try?” are so seemingly innocent that you nod along, reaching to pull another of the same flavor out of the bag. The crinkling of the plastic is cut off by his hand, and he clicks his tongue in disapproval.

You don’t even say anything- can’t say anything, too shocked to- as he takes the candy from between your lips. He hums at the taste, his pretty brown eyes never leaving yours as he laves his tongue against your dum-dum. You complain about it half-heartedly. He took your candy ):

He mutters some other cheesy comment about wanting to taste some other candy, and all bets are off. His lips are so soft against yours, pushing and pulling evenly in a way that has you leaning in. He’s the tide- blue waves crashing upon the shore at a languid pace, salt and seawater spraying into the air. He licks the sugar off your discolored lips, his eyes half-lidded as he licks into your mouth and at the sweetness that coats your teeth.

Even when he pulls away- panting and with a bit of drool from the corner of his lips- all he gives you is a smirk. “Sweet.” Is all he says, before he’s sitting back down next to you like nothing ever happened.

[hypers-omniac]

WIP Wednesday 🤭🤭

IGNORE THE TYPOS it’s a wip for a reason 😭

[hypers-omniac]

There’s something so inherently charming and pretty about Gaz that makes me want to write him as a secretly terribly person. Like I’m weak in the knees for slasher!gaz, stalker!gaz- ive been following this one best friend!Gaz that keeps coercing the reader to have sex with him and I’m over here FANNING myself.

I must write the pretty boy doing ugly things, I’m afraid it’s a requirement.

It’s either that or making him undeniably obsessed and loyal to the point of self-destruction. Gaz would be SO SO loyal, a little puppy at your feet- anything for you, dove. Fuck 🥴 I NEED HIM

[hypers-omniac]

JESS YOUVE DONE IT AGAIN omg I LOVE LOVE LOVE paranormal fics this was perfect <333

title: not your usual [redacted] story pairing: johnny x plus-sized fem!reader summary: there’s a reason why he won’t leave. cw: smut with feelings, johnny being a menace to society words: 3k+

you really shouldn't be surprised to see your neighbor johnny chilling on your couch when you walk through the door, but you are.

you could have sworn you told him you wanted to be alone today.

that man has a habit of loitering in your apartment whenever you’re out. you’d be so irritated whenever you came home to see him lounging on your couch, as if he was the one paying the damn bills around here. you've told him to fuck off plenty of times, but he refuses. and it’s not like you can have him physically removed either.

try it if ye wan’ to, hen.

you’ve filed multiple complaints with your landlord, but he just looks at you like you’re crazy, before asking you if you’re unwell. because you weren’t sure what he meant by that, you stopped coming to him. maybe he was the crazy one.

fed up, you threatened to call the cops on johnny’s ass. your threats did nothing to keep him away though, it only made him worse. walking around your apartment with his stupid boots on, even though you’ve asked him a thousand times to take them off. rearranging things on your coffee table, opening your mail, stealing your underwear, and snooping through your personal items. hell, you wouldn’t be surprised if he slept in your bed whenever you were away.

you think johnny’s favorite thing to do, just to further the torment, is to throw away your toys. and it’s even worse when he makes slick comments about you needing a real cock in your pussy. at the time, you were so stunned, your words had failed you when you tried to tell him off.

and then there’s his mouth. johnny’s a yapper. he never stops talking, whether it’s about the military, his family, or his friends. any information you didn’t ask for, he’ll tell you all about it anyway. sometimes you find his incessant talking endearing. it made you feel less lonely in your apartment. other times, you really wish you could glue his mouth shut for a few hours, just to have some quiet time.

you think the most off putting thing about johnny is the creepy shit he does, things that make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. it always has you thinking he’s not entirely human. the unnerving staring, when he's lying down with and his body is perfectly still, too still for it to be considered normal. or when johnny doesn't blink at all, and you’ve convinced yourself that there’s something terribly wrong with him. and he’s always looming when he’s close to you. it scares the shit out of you, but you never bring it up.

if you didn’t know any better, you’d say johnny mactavish was haunting you.

when johnny gives you a lazy wave, you don’t bother getting yourself worked up, as you breeze past him to get to your bedroom. all you do is offer him two words, “get out."

johnny follows you like a damn puppy of course. "bunny, ye dinnae mean that,” he whines, a pout already forming on his lips while he’s leaning against your doorframe.

you fix him with a glare when you hear the nickname he’s given you. “how many times do i have to tell you to stop calling me that? and i meant every word, johnny. go home.” you’re exhausted and you just want some peace and quiet. you want him to leave.

but johnny doesn’t leave. he’s told you time and time again he doesn’t answer to you.

asshole, you think to yourself, before rolling your eyes at him.

your peace lasts for all of five minutes, before johnny starts touching your shit. you’re rummaging through your closet, when you hear your dresser drawers being slammed shut. when you turn your head, your eyes narrow in suspicion at the sight of johnny feigning innocence, as if he didn’t just have his hands on a pair of your panties.

“do i come to your house and meddle in your shit? stay out of my dresser, johnny!” you can feel a scream trying to work its way out of your mouth, but you suppress it. you really wish he would go terrorize someone else.

yeah right, as if that’ll ever happen.

your eye actually twitches when he flings himself onto your bed and gets comfortable. you’re obviously staring at him longer than you should be, because your breath hitches a little when his shirt rides up, giving you a lovely view of muscles and body hair. your not so subtle staring turns into full blown gawking when johnny slips a hand into the waistband of his sweatpants, making your mouth go dry the same time slick starts to gather in your panties.

shit.

you snap out of it when you realize that this is johnny you’re ogling. “get out of my bed, mactavish.” your words come out colder than intended. you try not to shrink away when piercing blue eyes meet your gaze.

“what’s wi’ that attitude of yers, bunny?” johnny asks coolly. there’s an edge to his tone and a tick in his jaw. “need me tae fuck it out of ye?” he snorts at the scandalized look you give him.

“as if i would ever let you touch me!”

that was over 24 hours ago when you made that statement, and now here you were on your back, pussy wet, and full of want while johnny took his sweet time exploring your soft body.

"why are you so damn cold?" you hiss when two large hands cups your tits, a whine leaving your throat when the hands are suddenly replaced by johnny’s hot, wet mouth.

he ignores your question, hoping you won’t ask again. it’s not like you can anyway, with the way he’s distracting you with his mouth. he licks and sucks your nipples until they’re covered in his saliva. a soft laugh slips past his lips when your fingers sink into his overgrown mohawk, as you drag him up for a kiss.

johnny puts everything into the kiss. he’s nipping at your bottom lip and doing his best to shove his tongue down your throat. you pull away to gasp softly when his thick fingers slip between your slick folds, letting out a pitiful sound of disappointment when he removes them almost immediately. and then he’s pressing those glistening fingers to your lips and telling you to open up. when you don’t move fast enough, he pries your mouth open then slips his fingers in.

“taste yerself, bun.” you do as you’re told, sucking your own pussy juice off johnny’s fingers. you ignore the way your heart flutters when he coos at you and calls you his good girl and tells that he would have done this sooner if it would have kept you from hissing and spitting at him like a damn cat. he’s got you right where he wants you, in bed and eager to take his cock.

johnny loves the way you whine and spread your legs wider for him when he drags his cock up and down your sticky folds, smearing precum all over your pussy. you have to stop yourself from begging, when he teases your hole with the tip of his cock. he does it repeatedly, until you’re blinking away tears of frustration.

you sniffle when he cups your jaw and says in a sickeningly sweet tone, “poor bunny, thought ye hated me. now look at ye beggin’ for mah cock.” the laugh he lets out is mean and it hurts your feelings.

“please,” you whimper, voice cracking and eyes full of tears. “i don’t hate you, johnny.” you may be telling the truth, but he looks a bit skeptical.

you open your mouth to speak again, but johnny’s already feeding his cock into your pussy, inch by inch, and groaning because of how wet and tight you are. the way your spongy walls clench around him when he’s fully engulfed, is enough to make his head spin.

“fuck, bunny. ye feel so good stretched out aroun’ mah cock,” johnny moans in your ear. “feels like this cunt was made f’me.”

the first thrust knocks the air out of your lungs and has you shrieking and clawing at the skin on johnny’s back. “do that again,” you beg breathlessly, not caring if you sound desperate. you want him to ruin you.

like the obedient mutt he is, johnny obeys, and does it again and again and again, until you’re wailing and creaming around his cock. you’re a bit shocked at how fast you orgasm crept up on you. not offering you any respite, johnny demands for you to give him one more, and you almost tell him that you’ll give him anything, as long as he keeps fucking you like this. he’s fucking you like it’s his last night on earth, his fingers intertwined with yours, while he moans and pants in your ear. johnny’s fat cock pistoning in and out of your fat pussy while he hits your g-spot repeatedly is almost too much for you to handle.

all you can do you is cry and writhe up under johnny while he gives you the best dick of your life. your pussy nearly strangles him to death when he chants mine mine mine with every snap of his hips. you're not his. you can't be, you refuse. and yet, when johnny asks whose pussy is this? you sob and tell him, it’s yours, johnny.

“what about ye?” he asks through gritted teeth, “yer mine, yeah?”

there’s no hesitation in your voice when you answer with a breathy, “yes, i’m yours.”

deep down, you feel like you’ve bonded yourself to him with those three words.

“thas’ right, bunny. mine. gonna keep ye forever,” johnny snarls, before sinking his teeth into the soft skin of your throat and giving a powerful thrust that has you howling his name and digging your nails into his back.

he’s marking you as his.

you’ll panic later when you’re not getting fucked stupid and johnny’s thick fingers aren’t toying with your puffy clit. he doesn’t stop rubbing your sensitive bud until your back is arching and your thighs are shaking, as your orgasm hits you like a freight train.

“ye okay, bunny?” johnny asks once you can breathe again. his brow is furrowed in concentration and his forehead is slick with sweat while he continues to grind into your pussy, groaning at the filthy squelching sounds coming from between your thighs.

you answer with a garbled moan. how are you supposed to give him a coherent response when his cock is making you see stars and driving you insane.

johnny lets out a huff of laughter, before he rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him, using one hand to guide his length back into your slick pussy. “c’mon bunny, be nice for once and fuck me.”

soft cries spill from your lips when you start to grind your overstimulated pussy on johnny’s cock. with your head tossed back, you can’t see the way he stares up at you in complete and utter adoration. he’s enjoying the way your tits and belly bounce while you ride his leaking cock, and the way you cry out his name and claw at his chest. johnny’s so enamored with you and you don’t even know it.

he still hasn’t worked up the courage to tell you his secret, something he should have told you before you let him touch you. he’s been wanting to for weeks, but he’s never found the right time to do so. it’s getting harder for him to keep a lid on it. simon keeps telling him to end it. she’ll go running for the hills when she finds out what you are. he told johnny to stop coming by your place, to leave you alone and let you live your life. but johnny’s selfish. he’ll never leave let you go, especially now that he’s finally got you split open on his cock.

“fuck, ‘m gonna cum,” johnny moans, his grip on the your hips almost painful.

you cum before he does, pussy spasming and choking his cock while you moan his name, “johnny!”

the way you say his name unlocks something in him. johnny holds you close to his chest, murmuring soft words against your lips that you don’t even think is being spoken in english, thrusts becoming more frenzied as he fucks up into your worn out pussy. he doesn’t stop until up his thrusts become sloppy and his hips stutter. the drawn out moan that leaves his throat when he fills you to the brim with his cum is like music to your ears.

when johnny comes down, he strokes his hands up and down your back. he asks you if you’re okay, and all you can do is whimper. you’re a little surprised at how sweet he is with aftercare, bathing you and helping you get dressed before he puts you to bed. and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep, is a pair of cool lips on your forehead.

“you sure you gave me the correct name? there are no tenants in the building who goes by the name johnny. i've checked the records several times for previous tenants as well."

what?

"i don't understand," you blurt out, sounding as confused as you probably look. "this isn't making sense. what about the name john? have you tried that?”

"i did that as well,” your landlord says. he gives you a look of concern when you let out a groan. “are you sure this johnny person isn’t a squatter?”

he can’t be. johnny knows too much about the people and their business in this building. he wasn’t a squatter.

you shook your heard at the old man, “that’s not possible.”

your landlord just simply shrugs and says, “well if he isn’t a squatter, then he probably lives with one of the residents in this building.“

“well, that’s just perfect,” you mutter, voice dripping with sarcasm and a hint of annoyance.

how the hell are you even supposed to find the person johnny could possibly be living with? you don’t know half of the people in your building. they’ll probably think you’re insane if you knock on their door to ask them if they’re harboring a scot with an overgrown mohawk.

before your annoyance can settle in, you ask the man if any of your neighbors are in the military. it’s the best place to start if you’re going to track johnny down. and luckily for you, there is one person who goes by the name of simon riley.

you stare at the computer screen in surprise when you spot simon’s apartment number. “he lives on my floor,” you utter in disbelief.

“yes,” the bespectacled man confirms. “across the hall and just a few doors down. he’s retired from the military. think he’s a butcher now.”

you’re already out of the door and thanking him before he can blink. you make your way up to your floor with johnny on the brain. you haven’t seen him in almost a week, and it feels like he’s avoiding you. it takes every ounce of strength you’ve got in you, to keep from having a breakdown. after he’d fucked you six ways to sunday, you woke up thinking johnny would still be curled around you, but he wasn’t. he’d left, and you’d never felt so alone. much to your dismay, your eyes start to sting as the urge to cry presents itself.

johnny owed you an explanation for his actions, and you were going to get one.

you’re not sure how long you stand in front of simon’s door, just staring at the silver number plates, before you work up the nerve to knock. you bite your lip nervously when you hear the someone unlocking the door. you almost took a step back when the door swung open to reveal a hulking figure. it was definitely simon. he was so fucking big and pretty.

“you must be johnny’s bird,” he says gruffly, lips quirking up into a small smile. “was wonderin’ when you would show up.”

you stare up at simon in surprise, before murmuring a soft greeting. “is he inside?”

simon offers you a silent nod, before stepping aside to let you in. when you walk through the foyer and into the living room, you swear you him mutter something about you not being the only person johnny haunts. but then he’s speaking again, louder this time. “show yourself, mactavish,” he barks, before taking a seat on the sofa.

and leave it up to johnny to make an appearance that almost scares you half to death. he walks right through the wall to your right, making you flinch away from him with a terrified shriek.

johnny froze, and so did you. somewhere in the background you can hear rumbling laughter. you must be losing your mind, because there was absolutely no fucking way johnny just walked through simon’s wall. a wall that’s supposed to be solid, a wall that a human shouldn’t even be able to phase through.

and then it all comes rushing back to you at once. johnny popping up whenever he wanted, even when you asked him to relinquish the key you thought he stole from your landlord. never hearing your door shut when you finally managed to convince him that you needed your alone time. you thought about how johnny knew certain things you thought no one should know. the creepy comments he would make about death. when he never tasted any of the food you offered. he’d spent most of his time lying through his teeth about having a special diet.

you know what he is now, but you can’t bring yourself to say it. you’ll probably scream if you do.

“bunny?! fuck, ye wasn’t supposed tae see that. christ, simon why would ye let her—”

“johnny….what?” your voice sounds faint to your own ears and you’re not feeling too great.

“bunny? shit, bunny?!”

johnny’s hands are on your arms, but you’re not really feeling him or hearing his words.

the last thing you see before your world tilts on its axis, is a pair of worried blue eyes.

-

a/n: what is he? and at want point in the fic did you realize it? maybe i’ll do a 2nd part.

[hypers-omniac]

I LOVE Johnny Soap will always be my number one babygirl with his stupid Mohawk and big ol’ puppy dog eyes. But I feel like a lot of my scenarios for like AUs and stuff (mostly of fictional creatures or supernatural) don’t suit him. WILL WORK ON IT maybe a werewolf Johnny because who doesn’t love some werewolf Johnny?

DHEIDHDVO might actually just do my hcs from @/bluegiragi’s AU actually because it’s so so accurate and I really want to write something for pretty boy Kyle. I did last week and then tumblr ate it so sad ): harpy!kyle is SO accurate (with the comedic bonus of it being ironic due to him falling out of a heli twice)

Inspiration came: Kyle who calls you every time you’re about to beat it. It’s fucking annoying and frustrating and eventually you just.. keep going. Yes… I will write this later… *evil laughter*

[hypers-omniac]

Honestly? Went through a really rough break up. Thinking about… turning it into fanfiction to cope !! /hj

Who’s more fit to write trauma than someone who’s gone through it?

Gurglegurglegurgle… the boys who are there for you even when your ex cheats on you for months. They don’t want to tell you to break it off with them, but it’s hard watching you try and fix something the other person doesn’t want to fix.

When your partner calls you insecure for finally voicing your opinion, and you agree, (like a dumbass, in the boys opinions) simply because you don’t want to stir anything else up. You voice it to the boys and it’s finally a tipping point, and you finally break it off.

…only for your now ex partner to do some CRAZY SHIT… mmm defensive boys.. I don’t want to give everything away in case I do decide to make it into like a thing but it would be kinda funny to write abt

[hypers-omniac]

Hello sorry for tagging. I am very sick, my asthma is at its maximum level, my nose freezes, I have no medicine or food. I am in bad shape financially, I am a black disabled, who uses multiple medications, I pay for my food and lodging

Unfortunately I do not have all the resources to keep me safe, that is why I need your help, whatever you can contribute to me will be of great help.

Leaving this up still to gain awareness still but taking away the links and my earlier commentary.

This is a scam, thank you for those who told me. I’m a bit pissed off about this, for obvious reasons, but shitty people will be shitty people, what can I say?

Thank you for those who told me. Probably should’ve have used this blog as a Soapbox anyways

[hypers-omniac]

I haven’t forgotten about the monster-fucking September.

I still have a lot of steam and I’m super excited to be writing this month, but currently, where things stand, i am incapable of writing to those levels. I’m on day 6 of a migraine attack that will not leave, and I’m so sorry to anyone who’s hopes i got up ):

I did try and write a little bit, and it just didn’t work out.

I have not forgotten, and the show will go on. Just not right now. Unconventional as it may be, if i have to go into October i will.

[hypers-omniac]

Thank you to everyone who got me to 100 likes!

This is so awesome! All this for little old me? Lol- I’m so glad my content has been good enough to get here (: this is a huge deal for me- tysm everyone

[hypers-omniac]

Tbr!!

down the hatch

141 x f!reader | ongoing

you thought your life was over when your psycho, end-of-days conspiracy theorist austrian neighbor kidnapped you. the guy barely spoke a word when he shoved you into his fancy, decked out underground bunker. he mumbled something about last minute supplies, locked the door, then left. three months later, four commando-type dudes find the hatch.

irreverent. dumb. horny. these were the ingredients chosen to write this shit.

Read on Tumblr or AO3.

part one part two part three (posted 2024/07/14)

[hypers-omniac]

AHHH I found a really well preserved eastern Hercules beetle and I’m totally going to pin it!! I’m so excited !!