#when you're targeted by the bully | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kishibei · 1 year

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leon s kennedy x reader | smut, 18+ | >1k words

summary: back in your RPD training days, rookie leon was just too easy to pick on. now that he's all grown up, leon is dead set on getting his lick back in the way he thinks best: finally getting the chance to fuck you.

cont: f! reader, morally grey (?) leon, revenge plot, light degradation, choking, manhandling, rough sex.

just having turned twenty-one, the bright-eyed and blushy virgin who you thought had no real understanding of how the world worked, was just the perfect target for your teasing.

but running into leon who's all grown up now is such a trip. he's changed much more than he'll ever know, a seasoned expert at practically everything. you can tell he’s witnessed unspeakable horrors; everyone has, but his weary expression betrays that fact more than anything else, the perpetual downturn of his lips telling his entire story.

and despite everything leon's been through, he's still hung up over the little things; running through almost every single time you poked fun at him back in RPD, eyeing you from above with a steely gaze. he speaks slowly, making sure you hear it all from him, just a small reminder in case you'd forgotten all these years later.

you laugh awkwardly as he brings it up, fiddling with your hands before looking up at him with a timid smile. he was such a loser then, practically begging for the chance to be with you. but as he stands here now, you can't help but to notice exactly how much he's grown. that scrawny little frame you remember all too well had matured so well into this leviathan of a man, the very mountain of muscle and bone that towered over you.

he knows you find him attractive, it's evident in the way you shift your weight from one foot to the other, how you flutter those pretty lashes, and lean in real close when he talks, pretending you can't hear what he’s saying.

he smiles a bit crookedly now, and when you part those perfect glossy lips to speak, he can't think of anything else but slamming his cock down your throat, making you eat every last one of your mean words to him.

leon knows he should forgive you, really… you were so much younger then, unaware how deep the teasing had actually gone for him.

yet still, all leon wants to do is settle the score, to get his lick back for all the torment you put him through. he thinks for a moment, a quizzical expression flashing on his face for a moment. what better way to exact his little plot of revenge than by getting exactly what you'd been denying him of for years?

he's been waiting for this chance for ages, ever since the day he laid eyes on you at base. this was his opportunity; the opportunity to finally fuck you.

engaging in this conversation is all part of his newfound game, and when he’s finally got you split open on his cock, he knows he’s won.

...

"fuck, leon! 's too much!" you cry out, the words leaving your lips in the whiniest manner.

it's almost pathetic really— the way fat tears start to well in your eyes, just threatening to spill as leon pumps into you. he's got you folded in on yourself on this shitty mattress; long gone flat with springs exposed, stained with grime and the remains of other unidentifiable fluids.

it's so dirty, almost filthier than the way leon's fucking you now; pressing your legs so far into yourself that your knees practically muff your ears, just barely lowering the sounds of his slamming back into that sloppy cunt.

leon's pace is unrelenting, and when you look up at him there's something dark clouding his gaze; like this means more to him than you think it does. you can't help but to think it's the result of all your bullying back then, and you know you're not too far off when he grabs your neck, squeezing at your throat like a man gone mad.

your eyes roll into the back of your head, panting and whining as he fucks you like this, but soon your vision grows hazy and a certain panic starts to settle in your bones.

"leon... lee!" you strain, voice coming out a small whisper as you begin to claw at his hands, trying to pry his fingers off of you.

he's so much stronger than you, always has been— even back when you would push him around during training, you knew it better than anyone. and here he was: the same wimpy little leon, using that very strength against you, closing around your esophagus while he fucks you into oblivion.

you're gonna die, you think— no, you know. you've convinced yourself of it when you stop scratching at his fingers, just moaning wantonly as tears roll down your cheeks. he leans down to press a kiss against your ear, releasing you for just a second before he's back at your neck.

"stupid, ungrateful, bitch..." he seethes, spitting the words at you like venom as he drags his cock out of you, only to ram it back in again and again.

the words are mean— hurting just a little worse than the bruises you know are forming under his fingertips. but your body betrays you, that messy cunt just clamping down on him as he whispers those cruel words over and over.

"stop! just stop, leon!" you babble, gasping for air as he let's go of you for another moment, bringing his lips down to kiss all over the bruises he's just made. leon's eyes flick up to yours, a wicked grin taking over his features.

"you don't mean that, y'know you don't..."

he's right, more than that.

so you let him fuck you, whispering obscenities far worse than the one's you've called him all that time ago as you cry and wail for him, overcome with equal parts pain and pleasure.

"lee... leon, i can't!" you whimper, fingernails clawing at his back as you tense up, legs shaking while you hold onto him tightly.

"yes, you can... you're fine." he sighs.

his response is surprisingly reassuring, and the way he strokes your cheek as it leaves him causes the tight coil in the pit of your stomach to snap, making you spasm beneath him with weak cries of pleasure.

"see? there you go..." he cooes, looking down at you with a softer gaze now. "feels good when you aren't fighting, doesn't it?"

you cant say much, just whining as he delivers his last few strokes with a grunt, filling you to the brim with thick, hot spurts of cum.

"shit..." leon pants.

"isn't this the part where you tell me you're sorry?"

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miniwheat77 · 10 months

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Rage. (Mean!Ghost x Reader.)

!CW! NSFW, smut, rough sex, unprotected p in v sex, ghost being a big meanie, enemies to kinda lovers, hate sex, noncon, choking, (sorry if I missed any.)

This was a request and was edited poorly because I’m lazy. You can find the ask here.

All you ever seemed to get out of Ghost were sighs. No matter what you said or did he seemed to have a problem with it. The few times you tried talking to him he'd huff and turn away from you with a sharp roll of his eyes. After a while, you got fed up with it and ignored him. You did your best to avoid him at all costs. It started snowballing into more. He'd always have something to say when you were around. Always so smug. On occasion if a mission went wrong no matter who's fault it was, he took it out on you. Raising his voice at you, punishing you when Captain Price wasn't around to see it.

He usually black mailed you into it somehow. Telling you that if you didn't obey him, he would go to your Captain. He was quiet around everyone else but always seemed to have the most to say when you were around.

It was tiring. He'd made you run, do push ups, wake up early for drills. He was bordering being abusive. He used his power in his favor and against yours. You contemplated dropping from the task force every once in while, but knew that Captain Price would need an explanation and admitting to what was going on, only put a target on your back even more. You had nowhere to go, you were trapped.

As time went on, you started biting back. When he had something to say, you didn't hold back. Started letting him have a taste of his own medicine. Going as far to annoy him when he made you do push ups or run. You went to bed early so that you were awake and ready for when he gave you drills.

If he was going to make this hell for you, you might as well do it right back.

It was normal. His harassment. He was a bully and you were used to it. You could bite back. Nothing ever really seemed out of the ordinary.

Until the first time he'd put his hands on you.

The power had gone out on the base, which made red lights flash in the hallways, much like in a movie. It was creepy.

You made your way down the hallway to the women's barracks. Nobody but you ever really came down this hallway unless they were coming to ask you a question of course. So when you seen Ghost walking menacingly down the hallway toward you, you were confused. You decided to ignore him, going to walk passed him. The red light illuminated the white on his mask and gloves. It was like something out of a horror movie.

Just as you were about to walk passed him, hands on you had you going to yell out, but he was quick. Clamping a gloved hand over your mouth and slamming your front up against the hard wall. You whimper into his mask at the force of him. He was being aggressive. His deep chuckle is what makes you fight against him, but he draws you back, pushing you hard into the wall again. He wraps his hand around your front, fingertips gliding across your waistline and you freeze, talking into his hand. He doesn't move it, only glides his hand back and fourth, fingertips pushing into your waistband just slightly. His chest was flush with your back and he was holding onto you tight, you could feel his erection pressing into your back. You felt tears pricking at your eyes. He takes in a deep breath, breathing in the scent of you. Following it up with a sigh of satisfaction. "You might as well stop fighting me." They're the first words out of his mouth and they're dark. Laced with venom. "I could do absolutely anything I want to you and there isn't one thing you can do to stop me." He mutters. Breath hot against your ear. "You could scream as loud as you want, beg me to stop and not one soul in this building would hear you. So the next time you want to talk back to me, remember that. You're in one little lonely room all the way off over here and nobody would even know what's going on. I mean.. They didn't notice me disappearing to get these." He lifts up a pair of your cotton panties, and you only sob into his glove harder. You knew he was mean, but this? This was too much.

"Can you stay quiet?" He growls. You nod your head. Tears soaking his glove. He lets out a deep chuckle. He slides his hand away from your mouth and you take in a deep breath. It lasts for only a second before he's lifting your chin to look back at him. "Please stop." You whimper. Earning a chuckle from him. "Awe... Why are you crying hm?" He smiles but he knows you can't see it. You gasp out as his hand slides lower. "Ghost- please don't" You push back into him, which only pisses him off further. “You’ll learn, pathetic little girl. I’ll teach you.” He smiles. “Please, I won’t fight back. I’ll be good.” You mumble. “Oh.. you’ll be good?” He smiles. A deep laugh from him sending chills up your spine. “I know you’ll be good. Because if you’re not…” he trails off. Fingertips gliding over your opening. Only now do you realize, he doesn’t have a glove on his right hand.

“Shit.. you’re wet?” He chuckles. His fingertips glide over your entrance and you’re trying to fight against him now. “Fuck.. you’re actually wet from this. What a little slut.” He grasps a handful of your hair, sliding his hand away from you. “You’re a pathetic girl, Y/N.” He let’s go of your hair, brushing it down with his hand. He moves himself away from you, stepping back. “I’ll see you at dinner.” He turns in the direction you’d just come from, heading back into the mess hall. You watch him for a second, tears still spilling over your eyelids as his dark form illuminatesd by red starts to disappear, Just in time for the lights to return. What the hell had you gotten yourself into?

—

You’d just gotten into your room, but you could hear his heavy footsteps approaching your door. He slams it open before you get the chance to lock it behind you.

“What the fuck was that?” He breathes. He’s seething. You’re nervous as you look at him, tears pooling at your waterline. “I did what I had to do.” You breathe. “That’s doing what you had to do? You’re fucking ridiculous.”

His constant nagging has you at your wits end with him.

“Yes. I had no other choice because I was surrounded. If I’m dead, so is everyone else. So yes, I exposed myself on purpose, I called for help. Excuse me for being worried about everyone else around me, unlike you. You selfish motherfuc-“ the breath is knocked out of you when he slams you up against the wall in your bedroom, hand wrapped around your throat. “Did you learn nothing? Stupid girl..” he chuckles. “I learned enough.” Your breath is going away as he tightens his grasp on your throat. Your hands claw at his wrist. He’d cornered you in your room on purpose. “Recite it back to me. So I understand.” He smirks, even if you can’t hear it. You can sense it in his tone of voice. “I’ve learned.. that.. that you’re a complete fucking scumb-“ your face is turning a deep shade of red as he completely cuts your oxygen off. A whimper leaves your lips by accident, and he loosens his grip out of shock before returning it. Only letting you have one second to take in a breath as he tears his mask off. “Fuck- you fucking like this. You like when I’m mean to you don’t you?” He chuckles. Cutting off your air again. Watching you turn red. The little blood vessels in your face are breaking.

“Fuck you” you growl. He lets go completely, smashing his lips to yours and you kiss back immediately. He kisses you hard, purposely being rough with you as he pulls you away from the wall. Shoving you back into your bed. He climbs on top of you, attaching his lips to yours again. He straddles your hips, pulling away from you and taking a second to look down at you. You’ve got a glint in your eyes that he’s never seen before. It’s different.

He grasps your vest, making sure to be extra rough with you as he unzips it and tugs it off of you. “Jesus Christ- you don’t have to be so rough!” You growl. “Yeah right, you fucking like it so shut up.” He mutters, grasping the center of your shirt and tearing it down the center. “Ghost!” You gasp. He ignores you, moving down and pushing your legs apart with his knee. Moving himself between your legs. “Just be grateful, little crybaby.” He groans, tugging your cargo pants down your legs. You roll your eyes at him. Nervousness settling into your stomach. “Grateful for what exactly? Prick.” You mumble. A sharp slap to your clit has you whimpering. “Shut up.” He growls, standing himself up off the edge of your bed and tugging you to the edge by your thighs. He kneels down at the edge of the bed, wrapping his arms around your thighs and burying his face between your legs, a gasp leaves your lips. He doesn’t start slow, immediately lapping up your entrance and sucking at your clit. He’s trying to make you as sensitive as possible.

He wants you crying on his cock.

You wrap a hand in his hair, squirming in his grasp but he hold your thighs up against his head. Using your thighs to muffle your sounds. It’s not ideal but he’s got to hold you still. He keeps this up until you’re trying to squirm away from him. Clit overstimulated already. “Simon- please-“ you whimper. Another slap to your pussy instead of his tongue has your body jumping. “I’ll say when you’ve had enough. Now take what I have to fucking give you.” He growls. Tears prick your eyes as he laps at your entrance. Your eyelids the dam holding back the river of tears. You keep it together, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of making you cry. You reach your first orgasm with a cry, and he’s right. Nobody will hear it. Your thighs are shaking violently, soaking his face in your cum. But he doesn’t stop.

He flattens his tongue over your sensitive bud, abusing it further.

Just when you think you can’t take anymore, he’s finally pulling away from you. “Get on your fucking knees and suck my cock.” He growls.

You obey him, standing up off of your bed as he sits on the edge. You move yourself between his legs, lowering yourself to your knees as he unbuttons his pants. Only far enough to expose himself to you, leaning back into one hand. You take the tip of his cock into your mouth, making an attempt to tease him, but he’s not having it. He wraps a hand into your hair, tugging your head up so you’re looking at him. “Don’t try to tease me. You’ll regret it, take me.” He growls, pushing you down onto his cock, feeling him press up against the back of your throat. Your mouth waters, holding back a gag. You obey him, not wanting to find out the consequences if you don’t. He forces you down into his cock, holding you there and cutting off your air. He watches you turn red on him. Smirking down at you. At his complete mercy. “Fuck yes- yesss.” He growls. He lifts his hips up, thrusting up into your throat. He’s using you, making no attempt to hide it. He lets you breath for a second before forcing you back down onto him for more.

“Your throat is perfect for my cock.” He chuckles. His cock nestled deep into your throat as he blocks the oxygen from reaching your lungs. “You’re perfect like this yeah? That little mouth isn’t fucking running.” You roll your eyes even on his cock which makes him laugh. You’re a brat, through and through. He pulls you off of his cock and you take a few seconds, breathing in oxygen like it’s limited. “Hands and knees, now.” He grasps your arm, forcefully pulling you up off of the ground and pushing you onto the bed. You stop yourself with your hands, looking back at him. Despite how much of a prick he is, it’s quite the sight.

Disheveled hair, cock blushing and standing at attention. Fit stomach and chest, tattooed arms with veins and muscles bulging as he tugs your ass back into him. You turn forward, blushing to yourself. Every cell in your body prays he doesn’t see it, worried at him finding something else to bully your for. He notices it, but chooses to keep quiet as he grasps the base of his fat cock, pushing the thick tip up against your swollen mound. It’s red and abused from his tongue. He smirks at the work he’s done to you. The thick mushroom head pushes passed your folds, and he groans as you swallow him up. Like your pussy was made for him. He slides into you with complete ease despite the way you’re tightening around him. He reaches your wall, smirking as he bottoms out. He was gentle for a start, but he draws his hips back and slams himself back into you, right up to the hilt. A cry leaves your lips and it only eggs him on further. Abusing your cervix with his cock.

A harsh slap to your ass is what sends you over the edge, his balls hitting your overly sensitive clit with every thrust he takes into you. You can’t take it, tears slipping from your eyes at his abuse. He’s for sure leaving handprints, squeezing at your hips as hard as he can, bullying your cunt with his cock. When a sob leaves your lips, he laughs. Actually laughs at you. “That’s right, cry for me. Pathetic crybaby.” He chuckles. His stomach is already swirling with his orgasm, he loves hearing you cry, he loves seeing you cry. He slides out of you, pushing you over and moving himself on top of you. He pushes your thighs up until they’re pressed against your stomach, sliding into you once more. Deeper this time. He has to see it, has to see you cry on his cock. You’re pulling around him, sobbing even harder as you feel him bottoming out into your cervix, stomach cramping up at the size of him. “Simon please- it’s too much-“ you cry. He groans. “One second..” he pants. “Just- just one more second.” He groans.

He leans down into you, tongue gliding up your cheek. Soaking up each tear that stains your face. Moaning at the taste.

He reaches between the both of you, rubbing quick circles over your clit as you start to squirm. “One more. You can give me one more.” He growls. “No- I can’t!” You cry. “You can. You will. You can cry all you want princess.” He smirks down at you. His degrading is almost too much. He likes to see you like this. He sets a steady pace with his thrusts, slowing the circles he’s drawing into your clit with his fingers, pushing you closer and closer to what you hope is your final orgasm. “You’re going to take it, all of me.” He chuckles. It takes a second for you to realize what he means. You shake your head and he nods his head with an evil smile playing at his lips. “Yeah baby. You’re going to take all of this cum that I have to give to you-” He smiles, wrapping a hand around your throat and growling. Just when you think kindness shines through the concrete walls of his facade, he’s painting back over it with black tar. He cuts off your air once more. “-and you’re going to fucking thank me for it.” He growls. When he lets go of you, another sob leaves your lips as you reach another orgasm, clit throbbing so hard that it almost hurts. His hips halt, an evil laugh leaving his lips. He’s filled you up with his cum despite your protests. “Look at that, pathetic fucking crybaby.” He smirks. Your eyes are heavy as you whimper out. Even now, he’s still mean.

“Get cleaned up and meet in the Gym for your punishment.” He growls, sliding his cock back into his cargo pants and zipping them back up before leaving you there. Cum seeping out of your abused hole, tear stained cheeks. You sit up, body feeling weak. You don’t know how you’re going to make it through his next punishment.

#call of duty mw2 #soap mw2 #cod mw2 #ghost mw2 #captain john price #price mw2 #alejandro mw2 #captain price #johnny soap mactavish #mw2 smut #ghost smut #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #ghost fanfiction #ghost x reader #ghost call of duty

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ms-demeanor · 8 months

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i mean realistically many people do deserve to be the victims of targeted harassment campaigns. if you're being an asshole you deserve to be screamed at by everyone present until you stop. some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

damn following up the last ask, ig it was someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out. my bad lol thought that was part of ur main post

I mean this is something that's still worthwhile to bounce off of even though you're not actually responding to me.

First of all, no, I pretty much don't think that anybody deserves to be the focus of a targeted harassment campaign. At least not the kind that are spun up on tumblr or twitter. I generally think that targeted harassment campaigns don't work to change minds, they only work to torment, isolate, and attack people, which will often further entrench them in their positions.

Sometimes people doing serious antifascist work will make a discovery like, for instance "the principal of X school is a vicious antisemite" and will run an *exposure* campaign to get them removed from a position of power, but with very few exceptions when you see an online callout post for a random internet user it's nothing but abuse and an attempt to bully them off of a specific website, not an attempt to protect victims or inform people of a genuine threat. "ABC is the new alt of this person with a documented history of starting cults, DNI, block and move on" is very different than "This specific user who is on staff posts harry potter fanart and is why fascists continue to exist on tumblr, let's make sure they know what tumblr thinks of them."

You are trying to frame bullying campaigns as normal consequences for antisocial behavior, but the antisocial behaviors under discussion here are "user posted fanart broadly disliked by the community and associated with specific ideologies long after the initial fandoms were crystallized" and "is the CEO of a social media website that is implementing features that the users dislike."

"People deserve to be screamed at until they stop the bad behavior" is punitive and shitty and so broad and open to so many interpretations that you're basically saying "it's open season on screaming at people." I think that it's bad behavior to support neoliberal political candidates who prop up capitalism but it would be horrible for me to run harassment campaigns against everyone who says "vote blue no matter who" even though I think that attitude perpetuates real world harms. (And it also wouldn't convince those people to change their minds! The fact that I think they are doing something harmful doesn't give me the social license to send hundreds of people to harass them! And it wouldn't work! These kinds of campaigns don't effect change they just isolate people and erode trust and civility jesus fuck we need to be coalition building not posting callouts over whatever activity has been deemed "freak behavior" this week)

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

oh buddy, I think I get where you're coming from here but considering the kinds of behavior under discussion this is just straight up fascist. You are literally saying that people should be banished from society for wrongthink because nobody under discussion here has actually committed an act of cruelty.

(one of the things that i'm putting under the heading of "tumblr conspiracist thinking" is "staff is currently and continually intentionally flagging certain LGBTQ tags and bloggers" - there is ample evidence that the current staff is working to unfuck flagging and blocked tags that was done long before this crew was working on it. People talk about "tumblr had to settle because their filtering disproportionately impacted lgbtq+ creators" and that is TRUE however that was a filter that was established under different owners with different policies and different staff; the implication that the current staff is guilty of trying to stifle LGBTQ+ content because a lawsuit started before the Automattic purchase of tumblr ended in a financial settlement is just bad, wrong, incorrect, faulty logic. And if I might indulge in a bit of my own conspiracist thinking: I actually suspect a lot of the flagging and tagging and blocking of trans women specifically might actually be targeted attacks of individual users by terfs - many of the things that are getting flagged as needing a community label are things that use tags that terfs follow to attack and if enough users click "this needs a community label" the post will get flagged - I don't know that that's what's going on but just operating on occam's razor I think it's a lot more likely that terfs are coordinating attacks on trans people than that there is a secret group of cryptoterfs on staff taking time out of their day to ensure that trans users get flagged, if only because I think that the vocally trans positive former members of the staff would have said something about it.)

So, given that my position is "it is unlikely that anyone on staff is intentionally targeting LGBTQ+ groups HOWEVER prior policies enacted harm against LGBTQ+ groups and there is visible evidence that the current staff is trying to repair that damage" I'm not seeing any behaviors here that call for individual employees or users to get targeted with harassment from thousands of users.

But anyway, back to the specifics of the ask:

some people commit acts of cruelty and subsequently forfeit their reasonable right to participate in society until they've made amends.

Do you have any idea how frequently amends are made and never circulated as widely as the callout post? Do you have any idea how frequently callout posts are incorrect, and exaggerate the things that need to be amended? I'm reminded of Lindsey Ellis, who was the victim of a years-long targeted harassment campaign and made multiple apologies over the years who was finally driven off of her primary platform because she carelessly misspoke and the people who had been targeting her for years were able to make a post that she had long disavowed and was a relic of her dealing with the aftermath of sexual violence go viral. The internet doesn't let people make amends; people see accusations. They see the first post, not the follow up. That's why starting these campaigns is shitty and dangerous even if you *personally* believe that you'll forgive an individual once they "make amends." (and the "amends" people usually demand are "i want this person gone from the internet forever and cut out of this part of their life" - that's not really something that's fair to ask of people when so much of the world is online these days.)

the people of wendy's have a moral right to scream at the manager if said manager sprays them in the neck with milkshake every time they go to pick up their order

No they don't. Straight up. If the manager of a wendy's sprays you in the neck with a milkshake you have the right to escalate your complaint right up the chain, take your business away and never come back, warn other people "hey the manager sprayed me with a milkshake, stay away," but you don't have the moral right to escalate the situation by screaming at them (and you certainly don't have that right if you happened to get sprayed with some milkshake while the manager was attempting to fix the frostee machine when you came to pick up your order, which I think is actually more analogous to what is happening here).

someone in ur notes constructing an equivalence between @tting staff and getting nuked to yelling at a wendy's manager and getting kicked out

A big point that I think you're missing here is that @-ing staff when there is a problem on a post or you see harassment is generally pretty acceptable (though much less effective than filing a support claim), but the issue under discussion isn't @-ing staff, it was pointing thousands of angry people at two specific people who are *part* of staff and holding those two individuals responsible for all the problems that users see with tumblr.

partyjockers got nuked because their post directed a flood of harassment at one staff member in a post where they had highlighted that user's URL and name:

This is explicitly saying "users like the one I screenshotted are the reason you're being attacked by terfs" because one member of staff posted fanart from two franchises that tumblr-the-userbase has deemed off limits.

(Do you have any idea how extreme a bubble this is? Do you walk into barnes and noble and sigh because the managers are fascists who want trans people dead because there's harry potter merch everywhere? JK rowling is a terf and a horrible fucking person and I am no longer personally comfortable engaging with that fandom but people posting fanart of a franchise are not personally attacking you even if it feels like they are disregarding your humanity; you cannot consider other people's participation in huge, popular, mainstream fandoms as a sign that they are plotting against you this is why i'm calling this conspiracist thinking the entire scorched earth conspiracy spawned from someone interpreting a staff member's art as esoteric signposts signalling their hatred of trans people. Do you remember when the stupid harry potter game came out and this entire website was despondent because it meant that people didn't care about trans people? That's not actually what it meant! What it meant is that the vast majority of people on the planet have neither a twitter nor a tumblr account and have no idea how shitty JK rowling is to trans people and they don't interpret "harry potter imagery" as "covert terf signal" they interpret it as "possibly the most mainstream fantasy series in the last fifty years")

This isn't someone calling out the manager after they spray you with a milkshake. The manager asking someone to leave after they started screaming that the cashier's earrings were hate speech.

This analogy got out of hand but please just understand that there's a difference between @-ing an account that people are paid to monitor as part of their jobs and that they have support and coworkers to help with and @-ing someone's personal account.

Nobody got a post deleted because the used @ staff, they got their posts deleted because they focused viral negative attention on individual users.

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avis-writeshq · 6 months

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04 — you are in love

summary: “you can hear it in the silence.”/”you can hear it on the way home.”/”you can see it with the lights out.” in other words; the four times spencer wants to kiss you, and the one time he wishes he did. pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, mutual pining, fluff, slow burn, warnings: drug mention, alcohol (reader gets a little tipsy), vomit (not in detail) wc: 3.4k a/n: thank you again to the wonderful amazing @astrophileous for beta-reading MWAH zara you're a real one <3 SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

Falling in love is something that Spencer thought he would never get the luxury of doing. It’s a fairytale. After all, his parents were supposed to be a perfect example of what love should be like and look how they ended up. Yet despite it all, he always seems to find himself going back to you. You, who makes it so easy to love but he doesn’t deserve it. He refuses to believe he deserves it. He feels so horribly broken that it doesn’t make sense why you would love him, or why he deserves to love you.

It takes Spencer another three months to actually properly come to terms with the fact that he’s in love with you. He’s spent most of his free time attending Narcotic Anonymous groups upon your insistence and he hates to admit that it helps. He didn’t think they would at first, despite the swirling statistics of their effectiveness but he figures that it wouldn’t hurt. The other times when he’s not doing something drug related, therapy related or work related, he’s with you. Your apartment is almost like a second home to him and you’d given him your spare key (he went home with a ridiculous grin on his face and had to chug several cups of water to calm himself down).

Since your leaving the BAU, he’s left a series of trinkets on his desk that remind him of you. A little ceramic blue bird beside the animal skull models. It’s no bigger than his pinky finger and when he asked you why you gifted it to him, you told him that it represents hope and renewal. He thinks he needs a lot of that.

In the first drawer of his desk is a framed picture of you and him at a Doctor Who convention with him dressed up as the Tenth Doctor and you in all blue in an attempt to dress up as TARDIS. It was a fun and silly day but it was enjoyable and that was what mattered. After a series of unfortunate events, Derek happened across the photo, claiming that there was no platonic explanation for it.

(“Care to explain this?” He had asked, holding the frame with a grin on his face. He was looking into Spencer’s desk for a specific file on the Benson murders, only to be met with a very familiar face.

Spencer immediately lunged for the photograph, grabbing it and securing it back in his desk with a heavy slam. “Don’t.”

Derek put his hands up in mock surrender, although his eyes were sympathetic. “There’s nothing platonic about that, kid.”

He huffed in response, rubbing at his eyes and taking a seat at his desk. “I know.”)

The first time he came to terms with the fact that he actually wanted to be with you was after a specific realisation. Some cases are harder than others. It’s a given; some cases are just more difficult to deal with and therefore harder to compartmentalise. Each person is different, especially when you factor in trauma. Derek struggles when pedophilia is involved, and JJ finds suicide cases the worst. Hotch can barely function properly when children are targeted, and Emily hides behind a mask so effortlessly that the most mundane things can get to her. After a period of thought, Spencer realises what he struggles to deal with: bullying.

“You should have– you should have heard what they were saying!” Spencer insists, pacing his living room floor while throwing his hands up in the air in frustration.

He had just returned home from a case in West Bune, Texas, and it was probably one of the most difficult cases he had to go through. The UnSub was a teenager named Owen and after a very tense confrontation with him outside the police department, he was taken into custody. The entire nature of the case irked him. So many deaths could have been prevented if people just did something but now a boy is in custody with a body count nearing the double digits.

“They didn’t even try to deal with the bullying,” he continues, running his fingers through his now long hair. He can’t bring himself to get it cut; especially not after the incident with Hankel some moons ago.

You don’t say anything, sitting on his couch and sipping your tea, your eyes trained on the way he paces back and forth.

“People are dead because of them. I’m not saying that they didn’t deserve it because they did, but something should have changed.” His words are harsh as he continues to walk, clenching and unclenching his hands.

“You can’t change anything about it now,” You say gently, your gaze shifting from his hands to his arms to his face. “What’s done is done. All we can do is hope that the school board learns from their mistakes.”

“But they don’t!” He exclaims, turning to face you. He swallows thickly before sighing, slumping into the seat beside you and pressing himself into his side. “It’s just so… frustrating. They never learn.”

You nod, running your fingers through the knots in his hair. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“That could have been me,” he says quietly, burying his face into the palms of his hands. He presses the pads of his fingers into the corners of his eyes, stars dotting his vision.

“But it’s not,” you say firmly. “You’re a good person, Spencer. You’re saving people and putting the bad guys away. That’s a far cry away from being an UnSub.”

You’re looking at him now and he tilts his head to meet your gaze. You’re so close to him and Spencer can hear his heart pounding in his ears.

Kiss her.

The words that enter Spencer’s mind are enough to give him whiplash and he pulls away, pretending that he doesn’t see the hurt in your eyes when he does.

What?

“Are you okay?” You ask, frowning up at him.

“Yeah,” he murmurs, trying to shake the thoughts from his mind. He offers a smile. “I’m okay.”

***

“Emily doesn’t blame you, you know.”

The words hang in the air as you sit on the floor of your bedroom, the thundering storm pounding against your windows. Spencer shrugs, sitting next to you. The power is out across Washington and the flickering of candles helps to light up the room. Spencer fiddles with the rug on the floor and your brows knit together.

“Walter.”

“I know.” He buries his face in his hands and lets out a groan. “I know, I know. It’s not my fault. It just feels like it, you know? We knew that it was a cult but we didn’t know that it was… that bad. God, angel, you should have seen her. She was beat up and everything and it feels like I could have done something.”

“You’re too hard on yourself,” you chastise, brushing your shoulder against his for a moment. “You really need to take better care of yourself.”

He doesn’t respond, simply moving so that he’s lying down on the rug in your room. It’s a soft tufted rug that goes from a dark purple in the middle to white around the edges. It’s one of his favourite rugs in the world. You’re sitting cross legged beside him, leaning against the bed. The soft glow of the candles illuminate your face and you truly look like an angel in this light.

He just came back from a case in La Plata County in Colorado and he was ordered to take a week off by Hotch to deal with the traumatics of the case. What started out as an undercover investigation in an underground cult led to a gun fight and a bombing, all while Spencer and Emily were inside the compound. The way Emily looked so in pain after the whole ordeal would haunt him forever; the black eye she suffered from, the bruising to her chest… he doesn’t even want to think about the rest of the things that could have happened.

“Stop.”

Your voice pulls him from his thoughts and he sucks in a breath.

“I didn’t do anything,” he says meekly, playing with the rug underneath him.

“It’s not your fault.” You smile at him before hitting him lightly with one of your pillows. “Stop that.”

He laughs loudly, grunting a little from the impact of the pillow colliding with his face. “Hey!”

You grin teasingly and hit him again with the pillow. He retaliates quickly, gripping the pillow and trying to tug it out of your hands. Your grip is a lot stronger than he thought it was and his tug sends you flying towards him, a shriek leaving your lips as your forehead bounces off his.

A hiss of pain leaves your lips but you’re laughing as you clutch your forehead. “Spencer what the hell?!”

“I’m sorry!” He says, not really meaning it, and rubbing at his head. He’s laughing along, his cheeks warm as he smiles up at you. His hands move to your face, one to your cheek and the other to brush the hair on your forehead to the side. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You laugh again, smiling a brilliantly beautiful toothy smile. The candlelight dances in your eyes with a warm orange light as you do. “Are you?”

His gaze meets yours, watching the way you brush a strand of hair behind your ear and the way your eyes crinkles when you smile. He watches the way you lean against the side of the bed, tilting your head back with your eyes closed. God. He swears you’re trying to kill him.

“Spencer?” You ask with a soft chuckle, and the sound is so pretty that he doesn’t mind the fact that you find amusement at his expense. “Are you okay?”

He nods, his throat dry and his cheeks hot. He blames the candles.

***

The couch is never comfortable. You are well aware that the couch feels strangely lumpy and you’re pretty sure one of the springs is broken but for some reason you keep insisting to take it whenever you stay at Spencer’s apartment. The blanket he lets you use is thick and cosy to make up for it and the pillow is always fluffed.

“Good morning.”

Spencer’s voice is raspy with early morning vocal fry and it makes your heart lurch in your throat.

“Morning,” you murmur, eyes still closed in an attempt to calm yourself down. Maybe if you don’t see him you won’t embarrass yourself.

“Still tired?” He asks, and you hear him start the coffee machine. There’s the sound of rustling in the background along with the flicking of a switch. Too many sounds for too early of a day.

“Mm.”

He chuckles, deep and rumbling, before sipping some water. “Yesterday was fun.”

Yesterday involved fourteen hours of watching Doctor Who and passing half way through the nineteenth episode after stuffing yourself full of junk food. Yesterday involved passing out on Spencer, forcing him to move you to the couch and into a position that wasn’t going to destroy your neck. Yesterday involved the most platonic and innocent activities known to Earth, despite the way his words insinuated something entirely differently.

“You fell asleep before the best part,” he says, pouring himself a cup of coffee.

“You could have watched without me.”

He shakes his head as he stirs the sugar. “That wouldn’t have been right.”

A hum leaves your lips as you get up from the couch, stretching your arms and making your way over to him from behind the kitchen island. You’re wearing one of his old Doctor Who t-shirts that he let you keep, the sleeves reaching just past your elbows. Your hair is a mess and your eyes are half closed but you look so…

Cute. Seeing you in his shirt drives him wild. There’s something possessive about it and for a second he feels gross. He feels like he’s taking advantage of you but he’s obviously not; you’re the one who stole that shirt from him many moons ago and you’re the one who chose to wear it that day. Regardless, he can’t help but be transfixed as you walk around his kitchen like it’s your own home. Spencer’s eyes follow your figure as you pull open one of his cupboards and grab your mug (a really stupid avocado mug that’s bright green with a lid) before pouring some coffee into it.

“You’ve been going to your NA meetings, right?” You ask him, sipping your drink.

He nods immediately, his gaze never leaving you. “Yeah. Once a week.”

“That’s good!” You tell him, the caffeine slowly beginning to wake you up. “That’s really good, Walter.”

He smiles at you, dropping his forehead to your shoulder. “Thank you.”

For a few moments, all he can think about is you. Your hair smells like your special vanilla shampoo that Penelope got you hooked on and your skin smells like lavender and orange blossom. He remembers JJ giving you a sample in the office and you went and ordered a whole bottle during your lunch break right after. The compliments you got that day were like no other, and he remembers the way your eyes would light up every single time someone commented on the perfume, as well as the way you would excitedly talk about the different notes. Now, whenever he smells lavender or oranges he thinks of you. He doesn’t think it’s a problem in the slightest.

You sip your coffee again, the sound of the toaster dinging in the background, accompanied by the thick smell of char. In an instant, Spencer jolts from his place and places two very burnt slices of toast onto the plate, his nose scrunching up in frustration.

“I was gonna make you breakfast,” he tells you lamely. “I think we should get croissants.”

You laugh, dumping the pieces of toast into the bin and nod. “I think that’s the best idea you’ve had all day.”

***

The rare occasion when Spencer drives is when you’re not fit to. He picks you up at two in the morning at a bar and you’re sitting in his passenger seat. Your hair has a few tangles here and there and you’re wearing the prettiest purple dress.

“You really didn’t have to pick me up,” you tell him tiredly, rubbing at your eyes. “I could have gotten a taxi.”

Spencer rolls his eyes, leaning over the console to buckle in your seatbelt. “You called me, I’m here. I’m not going to let you get into a stranger’s car when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk!” You protest, your head leaning against the car door. “I had one drink.”

“Which can lead to a blood alcohol level of 0.01 to 0.03,” Spencer says, shooting you a smile. “I’d rather not risk it, angel.”

You groan and lean back on the chair. “I swear I’m fine.”

“Why didn’t your friends take you home?” He asks, starting the ignition. “Didn’t you say you were going to hitch a ride with them?”

A hum leaves your lips and you nod. “That was the plan. But one of the designated drivers couldn’t come last minute and the car wasn’t big enough.”

Spencer frowns, backing out of the driveway. “How long were you waiting outside of the bar?”

“Um…” your brows furrow as you think of the answer and you fiddle with the hem of your skirt. “Ten minutes?”

“(Y/N).”

“I’m sorry! I didn’t think it would have been that long,” you huff, rubbing at your eyes. “I promise I was careful.”

Spencer shoots you a frustrated look, sipping at his lukewarm takeaway cup of filtered coffee but keeping his eyes on the road. “You should have called me sooner.”

“I felt bad,” you respond sheepishly, offering him a guilty smile.

Spencer hums, running a hand through his hair. He hasn’t had the time to get it cut so for the time being it’s left slicked back and out of his eyes. He’s wearing his glasses now, too, because he didn’t have the time to put in his contacts. He looks a lot better than he did eight months ago, and he feels it, too. The white t-shirt he’s wearing is filled a little better now that he’s gained a little weight. Happy weight you had told him, pinching at his sides, it means you’re healing.

“Can you pull over?”

Your voice comes out small and Spencer snaps his head to look in your direction. “Yeah. Yeah, of course– hold on.”

He parks at a random McDonald’s on the side of the freeway and you immediately get out of the car and hurl in one of the bushes. He grimaces, getting out of the car to rub your back comfortingly.

“You okay?” He asks, continuing to rub circles on your back. He holds your hair away from your face, watches as your necklace dangles from your neck and catches the light from the 24/7 fast food place.

“... I might have had a little more than one drink.”

He can’t bring himself to get upset at you. Instead, Spencer just sighs and brandishes a bottle of water from the side pocket of his car. “Sip it slowly.”

You do as asked, taking small tentative sips of the cold water. He holds your hair in place, brushing a few strands away from your eyes and forehead.

“This is exactly why I didn’t want you taking a taxi,” Spencer says with a hum, satisfied when you finish drinking half the bottle. “What if you threw up in their car?”

You groan, wiping a hand over your face. “I didn’t mean to.”

“I know, angel,” he says sympathetically, lifting your chin with his index finger so that you’re looking at him. “I just worry. You should be able to rely on me, too, you know.”

“Okay,” you say through drunken stupor. “Didn’t mean to worry you, Walter.”

“I know,” he repeats softly, running his fingers through your hair. “Hey. Look up.”

You do, and you stare up at the sky. Stars dot and litter the navy sky, and if you squint you could see a faint blue star.

“That’s Venus,” he explains, gesturing to the little dot. He points to a smaller, redder light just below it. “That’s Mars.”

Even amidst the light pollution, the planets shine brightly. Your gaze is fixed upon the little planets and stars, enjoying the midsummer night’s breeze, the nausea you felt moments prior beginning to subside.

“Do you know what Venus represents?” Spencer asks softly, brushing his shoulder against yours, smiling when you shake your head. “Venus represents love and beauty in Roman mythology.”

You laugh, pressing your nose into his shoulder. “Do you believe that?”

“Scientifically? No,” he admits, “Venus is a planet. It doesn’t really represent anything but a giant ball of gas. But people place significance on insignificant things because it gives them meaning so I understand why they do it.”

It’s quiet for a little while, aside from the occasional sound of a car passing by and a cicada chirping. A cool breeze blows past but it’s more comforting than anything as the two of you sit on the hood of his car: an old 1965 Volvo Amazon in the colour blue horizon with paint chipping off at the inner fenders and bumper ends. He lets you sit on his jacket, your dress and legs protected from the dirty car bonnet. Your head is on his shoulder, your arms wrapped around his and you’ve traded your heels for a pair of Spencer’s spare mis-matched socks.

“(Y/N),” he whispers, rubbing his hand on your arm. “We should get you home.”

You nod, wiggling your toes in the socks. “Yeah.”

Spencer pauses and looks at you, watching as you yawn and hop off the car. He says your name again, chuckling a little bit when you look up at him a little dazed. The words get caught in his chest as he takes a tentative step closer to you. You’re so close. Just one small move. That’s all it would take… he dismisses the thoughts when he can smell the liquor on your skin.

“You’re my best friend,” he says quietly after several moments of silence.

You smile at him. “You’re my best friend, too.”

He drives you home that day with more regret than necessary. He wishes he kissed you. It would have made his life so much easier.

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merakiui · 3 months

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isekai concept in which you wake up as an orphan who is taken in by mr. leech. in the original novel, the main character grows up alongside troublesome twins jade and floyd, who will be the ones to kill them later on in the story when they're all grown adults. you only know this from a spoiler you learned, and even though you haven't finished the novel you know enough about the world and its rules to hopefully survive and avoid that ending. knowing this information from your previous life definitely helps when you suddenly find yourself in a large estate, where mr. leech introduces you to his sons, who regard you coldly. it's obvious they don't want anything to do with you. you'd be fine with that if they weren’t so instrumental to the plot and, subsequently, the fate of your life. it's imperative that you form a friendly bond, if only so you can save yourself from the ending that awaits you later on.

in the novel, the main character is notorious for being a doormat. they let jade and floyd push them around and bully them. they're weak and submissive, always crumbling under the slightest pressure. you're determined to change that. so when mr. leech starts teaching his sons self-defense, you ask to join in. if you're going to live with a looming death flag, you might as well learn how to defend yourself. under mr. leech's tutelage, you learn how to fight, wield certain weapons, and disarm a person. these lessons, while very helpful, also teach you something else: jade and floyd's distinct fighting styles. you make note of them while they're busy laughing at you for being unable to hit the target.

but it's to their surprise when you're the first out of the three of you to disarm mr. leech many months later. he's quite proud of you and your progress, pats you on the head to congratulate you. floyd throws a fit about it, irritated that you're the one who succeeded first. after the lesson, he and jade corner you and demand you share your technique. you're not scared of two little brats, so you stand up to them. "i don't owe you anything," you snap, scowling.

unfortunately, that only makes them even more curious.

what made the main character so appealing to the twins was their affinity for crying at every minor inconvenience. whenever the twins would bully them, they'd cry and call them mean. you're not going to show them a side like that so easily. no matter how hellbent the twins are on seeing you cry, you won't give them that satisfaction.

so it stuns you (and even them) when, on your fifteenth birthday, you're introduced to your betrothed: azul ashengrotto. you don't remember this character from the novel, and you have no idea if he's safe or not. you do know that your eighteenth birthday is the fated banquet and it's then when the plot really takes off, whether for good or bad you can't say yet. for the first time since you woke up in this world, you feel tears dampen your cheeks at the sight of azul.

is it possible to avoid the ending with the twins entirely if you pursue azul? this isn't anything like the novel anymore. maybe it's possible. you're relieved and scared, but you're determined.

and the twins don't like that azul's the one who can make you soften and cry like this.

#meraki mumbles

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heartfullofleeches · 10 months

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Maniac

Yans (Nerd, Bully, Student Council) + Dismissive Creep Reader Blurb [G.N All]

Warning: Bullying, mentions of dead animals, violence, death

(An: Never been huge of the school setting but this came up while listening to a song with the same title. If you can guess it you get a cookie)

Creep Reader who's friends with the school punching bag. Saying they're acquaintanced is a bit of a stretch as nerd hangs out with them because nobody bothers them when they sit next to this freak and they dress their wounds, and Creep only tolerates them because they take pictures of every blossoming bruise and cut.

You never offer input in their one-sided conversations, scribbling away in that notebook of yours as they go insane rambling on about what their bullies did that day and how it feels everyone appears to be out to get them. All you ever do with anyone is watch, listen, and write. It's honestly like talking to a brick wall sometimes.... which is why they had no problem accepting the only good advice ever given to them.

"Y'know.... Even if I report this to the principal it wouldn't stop. They'll get suspended for a few days and when they come back - they'll probably just kill you. If you want this to stop, you need to find a new target for them."

A new target...There's only one person more of a freak than them.

"Y/n takes pictures of dead animals."

The rumor spread like wildfire. A tale spun by a sock puppet account and sprinkled throughout the halls. Really, even they weren't sure if the rumor was true or not, but with that camera and your track record it wasn't out of possibility. All eyes were immediately on you. Your phone number was leaked and the threats and queries poured in. People would point at carcasses on the road and make sure you were in earshot when they joked about hoping nobody was taking pictures. They went so far as to sneak a dead bird in your bag when you weren't looking and poured milk on your items when they couldn't find any. They stole your gym clothes, wrote foul things on your desk and locket - but none of them had ever touched you.

As expected, you had no reaction to this. That's the thing your "friend" had always been jealous of you for. So closed off from the world, from the pain it gives. With nobody slamming their head in the lockers anymore, people began to appreciate their talents and hobbies. They made friends. Real ones. They naturally started to drift away from you, but they always stopped when they saw you in the halls.

"Hey, Y/n.... How have you been?"

"Fine."

"None of this is bothering you?..."

"As long as they don't touch me - I'm fine."

All that's where you left the conversation - and your friendship. Your dismissal to it all lead many to give up after a few weeks, but one remained. The same blight on your friend's life since the start of school. Sure, your reactions were lackluster - but they knew they could break you. It was only a matter of time - and you had just given them the key.

"Hey - Freak!"

Your head bounces off the metal door as you're thrown into your locker.

"Can't touch you, huh? The fuck are you going to do about it?"

You rise to your feet, touching the wet spot at the back of your skull. "If we're going to do this, it's better we do it where nobody can see us."

"Ha? - don't want people to see you lose a few teeth? Fine, I got a big game in a few weeks and rather not get expelled before then."

"Sure."

Your former watches as you're lead behind the school. They should do something, call a teacher - but they're too afraid. The weight of the situation falls on them as you disappear from sight. You're going to get hurt and it's all their fault. Your bully cooks up all the things they plan on doing to you, cracking their knuckles and damn near salivating at the thought of seeing your stone face crumple. They're too preoccupied with their threats to notice you pulling something out of your pocket. Their foot falls off the concrete path and into the grassy terrain as they ready their fists, doubling over in pain as pain splits up their side. They vomit spittle and their own words as they look up, metal bars wrapped around your hands.

"what....the fuck."

"Get up."

Gritting their teeth, the bully drags themselves to their feet - back on their knees before they can stand as your fist barrels into their stomach. You grab both sides of their head and ram your knee into the facture scar on their nose. You're unrelenting even as they fall back on their ass, removing your metal knuckles and mounting them as you ball your fists. You weren't ready for a murder charge just let. Over and over, your balled hand cracks against their face and jaw - drawing red with each wet smack. You stop only to switch you your unbruised hand - their arms shooting up in defense.

"please...."

"..."

"stop...."

"Isn't that what people ask you?"

You climb off their battered body, lifting one leg under your arm. "I've studied people for a while. Writing scenarios where I could ruin lives is much better for all of us than actually doing it. I know things about you too... Your family paid off your younger brother's teacher so he got get into that nice college - and you have a full ride... If you can still use both legs."

Tears prick their eyes. They fight to keep them in. This was their future you were playing with. "I'm sorry! I won't hurt anyone again I promise!"

Your grip tightens "I don't care about everyone."

"I won't mess with you anymore!"

They flinch as you drop their leg. "Good." Waking over to your discarded backpack, you retrieve your med kit and camera - dropping down beside them as you remove the lense.

"Smile."

Their eyes burn as the camera flash goes off. You set the camera aside as you open the kit and pull out an alcohol swab - pinning them to the ground as you apply it to their split cheek.

"Ow! The fuck are you doing now?"

"Quiet."

"Get the fuck off me!"

"You have a game in a few weeks, don't you? I don't think I broke anything, but you probably don't want the other team to see you with bruises."

The following Monday, your bully greets you all smiles and pleasant as if you were the best of friends. They could do the exact same thing as you and study you like an animal in a zoo to inact their revenge. Anyone who still picked on you quickly turned on their heels when they saw you with their click. They bragged while you were away about how they planned to tear your life to shreds so hard the damage would last long after school. It was going to be the peak of their year -

"Drink this."

"An energy drink? If you wanted to posion me, you could've done it with something better."

"The seal is still intact. No amount of chapstick will fix your dry lips, because you're dehydrated. An athlete should know better than that."

Their fingers instinctly fly to their lips. How did you?.... You did say you had been watching. They didn't know nor understand the full reach of your knowledge until they got a happy birthday message from an unknown number and a speaker ended up in a pool when they were urged to jump in. They had a fear of water since adolescence after nearly drowning at a lake. You never took charge for this acts and mostly blended into the crowd when they happened. You picked up your old hobby of patching their injuries and taking photos as payment. Why were you doing so much for someone who wanted to make you suffer?

"We're friends.... aren't we?"

Huh?

"Besides, if I stick with you, I don't have to look up gore sites anymore - or take pictures of dead animals."

You're such a fucking freak. A freak - that was starting to grow on them.

You became the person they'd look for first during school - when they needed a shoulder to cry on. You rarely offered comfort, but a pat on the shoulders was good enough for them. Their hand would find your shoulder or waist so frequently that rumors began spreading that you were dating - until people found out every touch was met with a light punch to their bruised ribs. They'd just laugh it off and apologize before doing it again an hour later.

Your former friend was having the time of their life - for a while. Something felt... artificial about their new friends. They had a good time at school and when they got together on weekends, but nobody was there for them at any other time. No one to vent to or wish them happy birthday exactly when it turned midnight - like you used you. They missed you. More than anything.

"Hey - give me Y/n's number."

Been a while since they've been in this scenario. Why was your shared bully asking them for your number?

"H-huh? Why?...."

"I had to get a new phone and can't remember the last digits. Stop asking questions and give it to me."

"Okay!"

The bully snatches their phone and punches the number into theirs - eyes softening as the line connects. "Y/n..... What? Of course it's me. I got a new phone. Anyway, I got tickets to that one movie that's coming out this week - the one that got pushed back because the prop knife turned out to be real? You coming or not?... Good."

Your former friend catches their phone as it's tossed back to them - watching their bully walk away with the flush of a middle schooler confessing to their crush. They hadn't been hit at all during the altercation, but their chest hurt hearing your voice after so long away from you - even faintly.

They find you the next day at the top of the roof. It was your favorite hiding place, and the only one your bully hadn't found yet. They sit quietly beside you.

"How have you been?..."

"Fine..."

They purse their lips together. "What...did you do to make them stop?"

"Put them in their place."

"What do you mean by that?"

You point your camera at the passing crowd. "At our age, people only have as much power as you give them. If you stand your ground they'll typically back down, and if they don't - you beat the to a pulp and ruin their families lives."

Your friend can't stop the tears from flowing. You had always been the strong one, that they knew - but how could you handle things so easily? How could they betray you like that? Their only companion in this world - thrown to the wolves when you should've been their for each other.

"It was you wasn't it?"

You stand up.

"Stay away from me."

They reach out to grab you - mend the tattered strings of your friendship. "Don't leave me. I did it, okay? I did it, and I'm so so sorry. Y/n, please forgive me - I couldn't take it anymore. I'd go back to the way things were if it meant you were still with me. Please, Y/n, I'm in lo-"

Their vision blanks, speckles of blood littering the ground floor from their split lip. You lower your hand back down to your camera.

"Don't lie to me. Or yourself like that."

It hurts... Everything hurts.... Still, they smile - showing you the bloodied whites of their teeth.

""ahhh.... Y/n, I'm... I'm bleeding. Don't you want to take a picture of me? Aren't I still beautiful to you? Aren't I good enough?"

You don't grace them with a reply, walking off as they curl into themself. It hurts - their mouth is numb, but it hurts all over. Please, come back. Let them their their head on your shoulder until the pain goes away. Y/n... Please.

"I'm sorry...."

"But are you really though?"

They cover their ears with their hands. Shut up. Go away. If they'd done their job probably - none of these would've happened. The student council president. The worthless coward didn't even have the courage to come themself. Just another lackey doing their bidding.

"Leave me alone."

"Ugh, you're so whiny. This is what you wanted, isn't it?"

"I just wanted I break - I didn't mean to hurt them."

"Yea, yeah that's what your like always says. Misery sure does love company, though. I genuinely don't see what the prez likes about that fucking creep. They're wasting their time and blood for them."

Shut up. "Don't talking about Y/n like that?"

"But you had no problem with it when it was for benefit. What did you call them? A psychopath?"

"I didn't have anywhere else to go....."

"Keep telling yourself that. I can't decide who'd I'd take more - the backstabber, or the maniac."

"SHUT UP!"

Walking down the steps to the first floor, you crash into someone skipping their way in the same direction.

"Ah - Y/n!" The student council president grins, picking up your fallen camera. "Good morning, good morning! And how are you doing ok this lovely day?"

"Fine."

"Faaaantastic." They point at their cheek sweeping blood on the shell of your camera. "As you can see here, I had a little bitty accident in my culinary class. I'm such a clutz, aren't I? If you give me one of those cute bandages, I'll take a picture of this cut and smile real pretty for ya!"

"Whatever." The president hums as you fish around in your bag, smiling big for their future spouse - deleting as many pictures as they can of others in that short time. If only they hadn't been out sick when the rumors spread. Then maybe you wouldn't be on that awful bully's arm and in theirs instead. They refused to let this little setback running your future together. After all, they were willing to bleed for you on their own Accord unlike everyone else in your album.

Unfortunately, they were upstaged once again - but their own council member too. They frown as the screams begin. They spit on the floor as blood splatters across the windows.

Couldn't go kill yourself somewhere else?

At the rooftop, panic takes flight. No no no... They didn't mean to do it. Their hands flew out before their brain could tell them no. The blood pools like a broken jug. A crowd surrounds the body. Nobody can see them from their place on the roof floor, but they can see everyone. A figure wearing a jacket that was once theirs, dyed with their blood and tears. The camera that hangs around that person's neck. The shutter of the lense. They laugh - finally understanding what they had to do to get you back.

You really did like taking pictures of dead animals afterall....

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanons #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere insert #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere nerd #yandere bully #yandere harem

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montygatorshusband · 11 months

Text

Glamrocks X Reader Headcanons

This includes Bonnie and Foxy!

No one requested this I just really wanted to do this :>

Also so sorry this took a while :< I’ll be sure to do more faster 🩵

General Information

“Sleep mode” is basically like a human sleeping, and their new charging system.

They can do stuff like eat, sleep, drink, shower etc.

🧸Glamrock Freddy🎙️

We all know he’s a big sweetheart himbo.

I feel like he doesn’t like PDA, but does enjoy being around you. He just feels it’s very unprofessional!

But if you're upset, he’ll make an exception.

Oh, but if you're alone with him and his friends? He’ll probably just give you silent affection. Just stand behind you and nuzzle you.

When he’s on full battery, he’s a busy bee and often checks up on you before going back to work. If he’s on low battery though, he generally gets kind of sluggish and gets really tired. During those times, he just wants to cuddle you and is quite needy and clingy.

Loves it when you wear any Pizza Plex merch. Whether it be of his friends or himself.

He finds stars and space in general absolutely fascinating. Despite his wishes to not break rules… he’ll put that aside to go out to see the stars with you.

I feel like he loves retro games. Mario and Sonic and stuff. He finds newer ones a bit complicated, and his big hands make his gameplay clunky, but he’ll happily play any you sneak in.

If your having trouble sleeping or just had a bad day, he’ll sing you My Little Sunshine until you fall asleep… probably even afterwards.

He loves singing for you, and loves it even more when you sing with him. He finds your voice hypnotic and even if you think you're bad, he’s not shy to let you know how much he loves your voice.

Plant daddy. Change my mind.

Loves it when you get along with Gregory.

Giant bear boobies. Touch em.

CHUBBY. GLAMROCK. FREDDY. SUPREMACY!!

Loves baking with you. If you don’t know how, he’s happy to teach you!

One of his all time favorite activities to do with you is just cuddling and relaxing after a looong day… watching TV or YouTube or a Movie or whatever. He loves it.

Calls you honey bear.

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Envy. (Listen, I know it doesn’t fit. Like, at all. But, the way the rest of the Deady Sins fit with the other Glamrocks is perfect.)

🐊Montgomery Gator⛳️

He’s a complete blockhead. I love him, but he’s dumb. He’s a little stupid. A bit of a fool. Has a small amount of brain cells. Smooth brain. A himbo. A dumb jock. A-

He does have anger issues and destroys his room… but I see it as him being mad at Fazbear Entertainment. Bonnie promised him that when Monty finally got his part on stage, he and Bonnie would play together. Not replacing him. And now everyone sees him as a fame obsessed maniac who wants to dismantle Freddy. Sure, he’s very popular with people, probably one of the most popular, but… does that matter when the person you care about most is gone..?

He’s still a bit sad when Bonnie comes back, since he’s not up on stage with Monty.

Ok angst and stuff aside.

I am completely aware animatronics working out makes no sense but I really don’t care. Like I said, Monty is a Dumb Jock. (Don’t worry, he won’t bully you like the others. In fact he’ll beat ‘em up >:(

Yeah once Bonnie comes back his passion for pranks gets even worse.

A big prankster. Bonnie is his main target.

Flirty. And he’s not good at it.

When he’s confused or focusing really hard on something his tongue slips out of his snout. You got a picture of it and he threw a HISSY FIT. But he reluctantly let you keep it.

Oh dear Lordy. The way he gets oh so embarrassed when he sees you wearing his glasses…

He’s dragged you into the pools of Gator Golf on countless occasions. But after your initial shock, he likes just floating around in there with you.

He’ll happily teach you to swim and play golf. I mean, he’ll always beat you in golf, but the least he can do is give you a chance.

Y'know how people say Roxy is so sure of herself as a coping mechanism? Yeah Monty is like that except he’s just that confident. He thinks he’s the best, and while he doesn’t show off to the point of Roxy, he does crave praise and often boasts about himself to you, trying to impress you. Especially flexing for you.

MONTGOMERY GATOR STOP GETTING HIGH OFF MONTY MIX!

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Wrath.

🐓Glamrock Chica🍕

CHUBBY CHICA SUPREMACY!

Yes I’m completely aware her attraction is based around Fitness. I feel like part of her job is to teach kids being a bit more chubby than others is a-ok and comforts those who don’t feel confident for that reason.

So yeah if you're chubby she definitely comforts you if you're insecure about it better than anyone else.

She actually has some anxiety. But you generally make it better!

You're gonna have lots of lipstick on your face. She gets all pouty when you wipe it off.

Listen, if a guest is giving you a hard time, she WILL enter Mother Hen mode.

An absolute pop diva. She’s just swag like that. (Can we bring back swag? No? Oh. Ok :(

While she doesn’t have many songs where she sings, she has an absolutely beautiful voice.

I hope you can handle lots of affection, cause she’s a real affectionate chick!

Watching Soap Operas or Dramas while eating pizza and cuddling you is literally the best thing she’s ever been introduced to.

I hope you’ve got an appetite, cause she makes food that will make you want to gorge yourself! Believe it or not, she will be more than happy to share!

Eating is her coping mechanism, and when she’s very upset and doesn’t want to cook, she resorts to eating garbage. You have to be firm with her about it, but she appreciates you not letting her go to those extremes.

Your personal lil cheerleader.

Man, she soooooo wishes she could have social media! Too bad the higher ups are such party poopers…

Such a giggly lil thing.

If she was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, she’d be Gluttony.

🐺Roxanne Wolf🛞

She’s gotten used to praise for the smallest things, and just because she loves you doesn’t mean you're an exception!

Despite that she’s probably taller than you. (Buff Woman make my knees wobble 🫢)

Y’know those tight outfits race car drivers wear? Yeah, imagine Roxy in that.

Despite being the most popular, only behind Freddy, she has so many self esteem issues and doubts in herself. Many nights are spent consoling her as she cries and yells before wearing herself out and finally settling down and letting you hold her, brushing her hair and tail, cleaning any runny mascara and makeup.

Reluctantly lets you put ribbons on her tail. Might even keep them on.

I feel like Roxy doesn’t use that many nicknames. But, she might call you something every once and a while.

That anxiety of hers means she’s got comfort items, fidget toys, food, drinks, music etc in her room. She’ll add any stuff that helps you, regardless if you have anxiety or not.

Y’know how she compliments herself? Oh good GRIEF I hope you can handle compliments towards you. She CONSTANTLY praises you. But… it’s more so you don’t end up like her. An anxiety-depression ridden MESS. If you're already there though, she’ll help you the best she can. Which luckily, she is the best at!

Whether you be playing racing games, or be in Roxy Raceway, she WILL go all out. Yeah, Rip you.

Despite what you may think, she’s VERY open and VERY proud about her relationship with you. Carrying you around, your neck covered in bite marks and purple lipstick doesn’t leave much to the imagination…

She obsessively reads fan mail in the evening. Even the… ahem, weirder, mail doesn’t bother her. Well, as much as comments from people during the day do at least.

Just… don’t play Monopoly or UNO with her… or Monty. Or Chica. Yeah, just don’t play with anyone really.

If she was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, she’d be Pride.

☀️Sundrop🖍️

He’s a little hyperactive. Ok I lied he’s the most hyperactive.

So if you're quite a lazy person he’ll just be trying to encourage you to play with him and the kids. He genuinely does not realize if you're tired unless you tell him, or it’s SUPER obvious.

I feel like he strictly follows rules, yes, but he also likes pranks. Nothing that will make you upset, maybe just a lil annoyed.

Let’s you, and other kids, draw on him. Just know if you do, A. You have to clean it off and B. He’s not a still canvas. Will be moving the entire time.

Not really a romantic headcanon, but I feel like he and Chica are real good friends.

Wraps his arms around you several times over to hug you.

He hugs you. A lot.

He obviously loves cartoons.

🌑Moondrop💤

I dunno why people see him as a little feral touch starved gremlin. I see him as a constantly sleepy boi that loves cuddling. I mean, I’m sure he cuddles plenty of kids to sleep every day!

In other ways, SOFT MOONDROP SUPREMACY!!!!

Yes, I am aware of how he acts in SB, but I see that more of a side effect of the Glitchtrap Virus rather than his general personality.

He doesn’t enjoy not having a movable mouth. He wishes he could eat candy before bed…

If they were one of the Seven Deadly Sins, they’d be Sloth. (Moondrop more so, but I can see Sun being Sloth after a long day.)

Sorry Sun and Moon don’t have a lot, I don’t really know what to say about them.

🐰Glamrock Bonnie🎳

An absolute DILF of a bunny with that ever loving Aussie accent.

He generally has that energy where anyone will do anything he says. Intimidating and quite good at manipulation (ONLY for your best interests. And his.) (Inspired by : @theodorevg923, who generally also gives me inspiration for all of this, alongside many other Tumblrs :)

He couldn’t care less about not being in the band anymore. He comes out at night and hangs out with everyone. As far as he’s concerned, the stress is taken off of him and he gets more time teaching kids bowling.

Flirty. He’s really good at it.

Loves himself some P to the D to the A.

If someone tries making fun of you for him giving you those public displays of affection, he will tell them to F out of his bowling alley. In a bit of an… angrier way.

Loooves Ice Cream. His favorite way to relax is to eat Ice Cream and go bowling with you. He pretty much has a sweet tooth in general. The public will never find out though. He’s got too much of a public image.

But… kids melt that image. He’s got a real sweet spot for the little rascals.

Monty definitely had and still has a crush on him.

He calls you Clover. I know I know, how original.

If you put on a bit more of a… ahem, reavealing outfit, he will stutter and blush like a mess before going back to his usual calm and relaxed self.

And if you pet his ears? He will absolutely melt. You usually don’t see Soft Bonnie, so take your chance!

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Lust.

🦊Glamrock Foxy🏴‍☠️

He’s a small grumpy old man. Ok, I’m exaggerating but I see him as the oldest, and shortest, animatronic in the Pizza Plex (Not including general animatronics like S.T.A.F.F. Bots or the Robot Wet Floor Signs. And Chica, who between you and me, doesn’t realize she’s short.)

But he’s real sweet when he’s not a salty sea dog.

He’s got worse anger issues than Monty, but he doesn’t show it. You can still tell though. His nose and eye twitch. Don’t call him short either, that will get them WAY worse.

Oh yeah, the eyepatch isn't just for display. He only has one eye.

Has a taste for alcohol, specifically rum. Obviously, he can’t get drunk, but he’ll drink with ya, if you're of age and he will cut you off at your limit.

A Bloody Irish Pirate. I will hear nothing else.

He has to rest a lot. Don’t get me wrong, he’s fast, but after he runs or something he has to rest up a little.

Unlike Bonnie, he doesn’t know his place now he’s been shafted from the band. He doesn’t even know why he’s not in the band anymore… but considering you found him pretty much erased from history aside from the odd poster, no recollection of any animatronic even being a fox… he fears the worst.

Yeah you pretty much had to throw a FIT before Fazbear Entertainment fixed Foxy up. An even bigger fit was needed to reintroduce him to the public. An even BIGGER one for him to have his hook during work hours.

Man loves gold and money. He is a pirate.

And if you give him other gifts, he’ll cherish them just as equally.

He’s very jealous. A lonely pirate needs to keep his greatest treasure after all~

Nicknames : Sailor, Captain (Only when you’ve earned it. And only in private.), Sea Star, Pup

If he was one of the Seven Deadly Sins, he’d be Greed.

ALRIGHT ALRIGHT TIME TO WORK ON ACTUAL REQUESTS!

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