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bunnygirllover45 · 4 months

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Honestly, I’d do whatever Johann would ask as long as I can play with his hair—

in that case, you can play with his hair while he's going down on you.

#yandere oc #yandere boy #yandere male #am I being too horny?#yeah #do I care?#nah #you guys know why are you here #I'll feed you guys with things I can't even speak on main

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eldritch-m0th · 6 months

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Hobbit AU where everything is the same but when the company arrives Bilbo answers the door in this:

And no, he can’t be bothered to change for company.

And yes, Thorin does loose all mental faculties upon seeing him.

#shut up moth #the hobbit #bagginshield #is it ooc?#maybe #do i care?#no #this is funny as hell

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shit-talker · 3 months

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Roach definitely has a tiktok where he literally just shitposts but it is super fucking popular for no reason. Because of the really spotty internet he has basically all of the time, he doesn't really interact with any of his fans, but there was once like five months where he didnt post and people started cancelling him for "propaganda".

It had all pretty much calmed down by the time he even realised it was happening, but in response he posted a video of Gaz and Soap, both high on pain meds laying in beds next to each other meowing at each other because they both think the other is a real cat (for some reason). He just slowly pans it to Ghost, who is sitting deadly still, eyes balnkly staring at a wall. He looks tormented. He switches the camera to his own face and pulls the polite-awkward-british-smile and just nods.

It's got clown music playing in the background, and the caption with absolutely no hashtags is just "Honestly thought my account was the definition of 'anti propoganda' but ok (i am in hell (please save me (this is a joke (for legal reasons (god bless the queen)))))

Almost every single comment is ; "It's a king now actually"

He then posts a video of him and the guys all saluting to a picture of Trisha Paytas. No caption at all. No hashtags.

#gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #john soap mactavish #is this totally unrealistic?#yes #do i care?#no #price does definitely keep telling him to stop #and roach definitely keeps posting #they are that one tiktok of that soldier dressed in a womans dress (Gaz) and their sergeant appeared behind him (ghost)#like thats them #is this too political for the king and trisha payras rn?#idk im irish #im like bred to hate the monarchy or some shit #shit talker talks #roach tok

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boffeeceans · 1 month

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Thank you @luckylocus for bringing this back to my attention (a while ago but I haven't stopped thinking about it)

I don't have to say it, right? "It's literally just a jacket-" sshhh, it's Billy's jacket, the duffers told me

#eddie munson #billy hargrove #mungrove #has this been brought up before?#probably #do i care?#no <3 #fun fact: i have a wip that i started last year where eddie wears the jacket #fun fact 2: ive recently picked the wip back up #fun fact 3: im having a really hard time writing it

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theonemeathead · 3 months

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Sniper x Reader, "Lonely"

sniper x reader fluff bc he's my favorite obviously. tws for the implications of the word 'sheila', otherwise gender neutral :3. enjoy!

"Aw, that's game, mate!" Sniper laughed, heartily. You groaned, throwing your head back as your dropped the last steel horseshoe in your hand. That was the 3rd game you'd lost in a row. Today had been declared a ceasefire, so you had suggested taking the day to go camp with Sniper, your best friend. Truth be told, there's not a whole lot of good camping spots in New Mexico, meaning you were stuck in the middle of the dessert with nothing but whatever was packed in his campervan... and Sniper... by yourselves.

Now, you weren't one to crush. You prided yourself on holding your own, being 'independent'. But, base did get lonely, sometimes. Being surrounded by the same people every day for years could drive the sanest person crazy, especially the group you lived with. But, Sniper was different. He was kind and funny and honest with you. You admired his skill from afar, never really got in his way. You provided good company to him. So, when you had offered to go camping with him, alone... He felt his heart skip a beat. Your presence was different than the others; he liked being around you.

Kicking a rock, you sat down on a log next to the future firepit. The sun was setting, it was gonna be dark soon. Sniper bent down, grunting as his knees popped, to collect the stake and horseshoes from your previous game. He slid them back into the mesh baggie, throwing them to the side before walking over where you had unceremoniously thrown yourself down in a fit of frustration. The Australian crouched, beginning to build the basic structure of what would be your source of warmth for the impending night.

"No need to be sore, mate. You did good! I just did better."

You furrowed your brow, scowling at him. He snickered at your expression, clearly proud of his quip. Was it weird of him to find your annoyance so cute? You leaned to the side, taking a small rock and tossing it at him, the sediment bouncing off the top of one of his roughed-up cowboy boots. Everything about Sniper was so rugged, it almost hurt how stereotypically outdoorsy he looked. From his scratched aviators, to his sun-damaged skin, he sure wore that Aussie charm well.

"Oh, c'mon, sheila! I'm just givin' ya a hard time." You continued to stare him down, doing your best to try and look intimidating. You knew you didn't scare him, but everyone has their dreams. Taking the lighter from the pocket of his vest, he took some kindling and held the flame to it. You watched, silently, as the sticks caught fire, crackling into an uproaring orange flame. Satisfied, Sniper stood up, dusting his hands on his trousers before crossing his arms at you. "Not talkin' to me now, are we?"

"Nope." He chuckled, dryly. He reached up, taking his dusty slouch hat off his head, putting it to his chest and bowing slightly.

"How shall I ever earn your forgiveness?"

"Shut up... I'll forgive you when you start cooking supper."

"On it, sheila." And indeed he was. Half an hour had gone by and Sniper had brought his rusted pot of stew to a boil. It was filled with various game he'd hunted earlier in the day, ranging from coyote to rabbit. He had taken the edge of his kukri and sliced up some wild onions and some leftover carrots he had in the fridge, not letting them go to waste. Although it didn't sound appetizing, any food sounded like good food right about now. You both had been making small talk, conversing as the sun disappeared completely, leaving nothing but the glow of the fire and the occasional wheezey laugh. When came time, Sniper had been courteous enough to sneak a bowl and silverware for you from the dining hall. He only had plates for him, meaning he panicked slightly when you suggested this trip. He handed you the container, slopping a ladle full of dinner onto it. Immediately, you recognized it.

"Did you steal this from the kitchen?" You asked, slightly amused by the gesture.

"I mean—yeah. Didn't have another set of dishes, couldn't let ya starve." A small silence fell between you two. It was different than normal, it was almost awkward. You hadn't really thought about it, but you guessed Sniper had really never needed more than one of anything he had. You used your spoon to prod at the concoction, shuffling slightly as neither of you seemed to dare break the silence. Sniper had cleared his throat, grabbing a scoopful himself and sitting across from you. However, he didn't eat, but instead sat it on the ground at his feet as he took a stick, prodding at the open flame, absentmindedly.

"Doesn't it get lonely?" He froze. You stared at him, slightly shocked at how fast the words had left your mouth. They were in the air now and you couldn't take them back. And they stayed, too. Your words came out heavy, soaked in something Sniper hadn't experienced since moving away from his parents; Empathy.

"...'Lonely'?" He repeated back. He scoffed, shaking his head. Him, lonely? I mean, yeah, sure he wouldn't mind having a companion around, but he's always been by himself. Even as a kid, he was an only child. This was new and unfamiliar; This was uncharted territory. You felt you had touched a sore spot, something sensitive about Sniper. You feared you had caused him to retract back into himself, making him regret ever opening up to you at all.

"Yeah, well, I mean—" You started, eyes darting around as you conjured a response. "—Surely it gets a little isolating, doesn't it?"

"That's life, mate. I can't keep people around, considerin' my occupation 'n all."

"Well, what about me? You let me tag along." He sighed, swallowing harshly. You could tell you were beginning to fuel a fire, something that could quickly begin to spread and become untamed. Yet, still, you marched, like a moth to a flame.

"This is my job, you just happen to be apart of it."

"Oh." There was a slight pang in your heart. It hurt, how he was quick to make a statement like that. You stared down, your bowl still full and growing slightly colder by the second. He seemed to know he had said something wrong.

"Listen, uh—"

"I guess I thought we were, I dunno, friends or something." You grinded your teeth together, your jaw clenched tight. You felt naïve, even foolish. Without another word, you dumped your bowl back into the pot, sitting the dirty dishes next to the log you were sat on. You didn't even look at him as you began rolling out your sleeping bag. Sniper was never good with words and now he was stunned, stuck between saying something and saying nothing at all. You folded the top blanket back, as if you were about to crawl in. "I think I'm gonna hit the hay."

"Don't be like that, sheila. I didn't mean it the way I said it," he tried to reason with you. He took a deep breath. The one person that he felt comfortable enough to be around and he had forced them back; Pushed them away just like everyone else. God, couldn't he do one thing right? If not for himself, then at least for you. He hesitated to continue, the look in your eyes sending waves of guilt through him. It was now or never.

"I meant... Look, roo. I've always been like this, by myself. So, when you started stickin' around, it was different. It was change, and Aussies don't like change." You looked at him, quizzically. He sighed, his rough hands grabbing at the bark of the log he sat on.

"You should've just told me you didn't want me around th—"

"That's not what I'm sayin'!" He snapped. Your eyes widened, lips parting to retort, yet you couldn't find anything to say. You were dumbfounded by his outburst. He took his hat off, putting his tinted sunglasses around the brim, and placing it on the ground. He ran both of his hands through his short brunette hair, pulling on it slightly as if to soothe himself. "I don't know how to say it without soundin' pathetic."

"Say what?" You crawled over to him, noticing how his breathing was shallow. You looked up at him, sitting on the ground on all fours. He trembled slightly, his eyes screwed shut as he seemed to be lost in thought. Without a second thought, you reached a hand out, holding his knee and rubbing comforting circles. You had never seen him so distraught before, so wrecked about something. He was Sniper, the one person who was supposed to always have a calm head and a steady hand. Yet, here he was, rattled. You yelped when he whipped his hands to meet your face, both of his calloused palms rested against either side of your skull. With one hand cladded in a fingerless glove, the other one slightly clammy, he gripped you firmly.

"I really like ya, roo. I don't think I could take it if you stopped comin' around. I don't mean to sound like such a drongo when I speak, I just have never... had much to say, or anyone to say it to." His eyes scanned yours. Hardly, did Sniper ever take off his hat and sunglasses. You took the opportunity to flick between his greyed eyes. He was so scruffy for someone who wasn't even thirty. Your slid your hands from his knees, up to his wrists. You took your fingers and wrapped them delicately around his rough skin, careful not to push on the watch on his left wrist.

"I like you too, Mundy. Even when you're whooping my ass in horseshoes." You smiled, gently rubbing your thumb back and forth across his knuckles. He scoffed, a big smile playing across his lips at your remark.

"You're still sore about that?"

"Maybe," you teased. "So, what's that mean for us, now?"

"Well, love, I reckon it means you're stuck with a wanker like me." He pulled you forward, planting a gentle peck atop your forehead. Sniper released you, ruffling your hair as he stood up, pouring water on the fire to put it out and grabbing his personal belongings. "Roll that sleeping bag up, we're sleeping in the camper."

"But, there's only one bed in there?" You mentioned, scrambling to your feet to do as he said.

"I'm aware, darl'."

#is this cheesey?#yeah...#do i care?#no #sniper tf2 x reader #tf2 sniper x reader #sniper tf2 #tf2 sniper #tf2 x reader #tf2 fanfiction #tf2 fandom

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toomanyideasandfandoms · 7 months

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I revive from the dead to say-

Wait actually death seeking creator would be such a mind fuck for Alhaitham, or Albedo, or any of the more logical characters.

Cause like??? Why would the creator be so mentally fucked? I mean logically speaking a god is supposed to be a being above all, mental health included right? So it would make sense that the creator would be something that even after all those deaths would be mentally sound, because they're just built different right?

But no, their creator is just like any other human. And they're mental state is never recovering from all those traumatic deaths.

I feel like if they gathered together to try and come up with a solution for forced therapy (because no way in hell can they continue to let their god die over and over again, that only makes things worse for their state) and it just backfires on them several times.

Until finally they make one breakthrough, which causes the creator to just have a full blown meltdown and just yell and curse the entire world out. Of course they would try to kill themselves again, but since there's nothing to do all they can do is just break down and cry.

After that I feel like the creator would just go into this numb state and not talk to anyone or move a muscle. Probably would turn into really, REALLY, slow healing from there. Because highkey as a pushover/genshin obsessor I would just let myself heal and not actually hate the characters ever if I was in the creator's place.

Technically this could be considered a "good" ending, but honestly the fact all that shit happened would very much show how toxic everyone is because the only reason they even would recognize the creator is because of "special" blood. Wait I'll stop that thought there or I may go into a rant about that aspect of sagau (not in a negative way btw)

#sagau #genshin sagau #did i ramble a fuck ton?#yes yes i did #do i care?#no no i dont #death seeking creator

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cerealforkart · 6 months

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To Me, Sparrow is Rebecca's househusband trophy wife who dropped out of art school when Hero was born and Rebecca was busy getting her vegan ice cream business off the ground and I think he deserves a fancy robe for thati

#dndads #dungeons and daddies #sparrow oak #hero oak #doodly #is this coherent?#do I care?#anyways here's a dude and his baby #I think someone did a timeline that he had to have been pretty young when Hero was born #but tbh I can't remember #and I don't want to do the math myself #it's a weird day today gang

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serpentinesomebody · 2 years

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The end card in the newest Sanders Sides episode (CPIOH) hit me hard and I wanna talk about one of the reasons why

Notice how each side has one plushie of themselves? Roman and Patton even talk to their plushies like how they would talk to themselves or a close friend. Virgil is sleeping, but he cuddles his plushie. Logan, though?

Logan has plushies of ALL of them.

The other three sides having one plushie of themselves and talking to them/keeping them close shows more of an introspective perspective. They’re finding comfort from within themselves. Logan having plushies of all of them shows that his struggle is external. He doesn’t think he’s part of the group, and that’s not something he can fix by looking within himself or comforting himself. Having all the plushies together symbolizes what he wants for himself, in reality.

#am I looking way too much into this?#most likely #do I care?#no #sanders sides #sanders sides theory #ts logan #sanders sides spoilers #ts spoilers

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