I Was Trying To Collect More Shitty Ms Paint Doodles We All Use And Vibe With And Then I Realize I Also

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Dark Horse - Billy Hargrove

Summary: Billy is friends with benefits with reader’s friend, but what he really wants is the reader. 

Word Count:  3.4k

Warnings: Manipulative Billy (x10), a lot of worries about being a bad friend, and teasing.

A/N: I’m sorry for the bit of a break I took, but I’m back and I’m ready to write about Billy (keep an eye out for ‘An Open Window, Part 3’ 👀)

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Do you believe you’re a good or a bad person?

What makes you good? What makes you bad? Can they balance each other out? Should you just lie about it? Does it even matter?

What if the answer is yes to all of them?

Then the last question; Who are you lying to?

You could be lying to yourself. You could be great, you could be horrible, you could be neither, or you could be both. It’s hard to answer. It’s not clear cut if you’re asking yourself about yourself.

What’s unmistakable, though, was that you’re lying to your friend. To Cassandra. You’re telling her anything but the truth. You’re showcasing yourself as guiltless and as reliable. You’re acting as the friend you want to be and ought to be.

But does that make you good or bad?

That’s all premature. It was all before its time, but maybe not a good way off, though, considering the sound of Billy’s Camaro drawing near.

You didn’t have to turn your head to notice the increase of speed, you could hear and smell the way the rubber was burning against the tarmac.

You didn’t try to peddle faster, but you wanted to. You wanted to get away from him. You didn’t want to have to talk with him, to repeat yourself like he always made you do. It was almost like Billy wanted you to be a broken record. Likely because he wanted you broken and he wanted to be the one to do it.

If Billy didn’t start blowing his horn, you wouldn’t have swerved off into the gravel. You wouldn’t have gone over too many sharp rocks and the most whetted shard of glass. You wouldn’t have popped your tie.

But Billy did, and he didn’t stop until he saw the way your feet braced yourself on either side of your bike. By that time you had turned your head back to watch what he was up to. You expected him to come to a stop either behind or beside you, but you underestimated how fast he was really going. His car skidded to a halt a little under a half-mile ahead of you. You could hear him laughing from his open window as he reversed.

The moment he was in front of you, he grinned. It wasn’t a warm, inviting smile. It was a playing politics type smile. Always up to something, always two-edged.

“My, my, what a nice little surprise.” He said.

Keep reading

They get along at last-

Good. Mmm.

Miscommunication

Yan!Douma, Yan!Akaza, Yan!Kokushibo, Yan!Muzan x FEM!reader

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Word count: 6.2K Warning(s): Not proof read, so expect a few grammar mistakes, Yandere themes, mentions of gore, mentions of death, yandere behavior, dark themes, Douma. A/N: These four have been on my mind for a while and since my mother tongue isn’t English, I thought it would be funny to write something with a language barrier. Everything the three upper moons say are in Japanese, everything the reader says is in whatever language you want. 

Foreign.

That was the word of the month.

You were in a foreign country, with a foreign language, surrounded by foreign people.

What should’ve been a trip to enrich your cultural knowledge turned into a story straight out one of your father’s horror novels. You came to Japan with little to no knowledge of the country and its residents. First mistake. You did bother to learn some of the words they spoke. It felt itchy on your tongue when you spoke them. You couldn’t get your mouth in the correct position to articulate the letters, being too familiar with the English pronunciation and resulting in a thick accent lacing everything you said in the foreign tongue. You didn’t see it as important to learn the language, as long as you could excuse yourself in a polite way and say hello and goodbye it would be fine. Second mistake.

Keep reading

you don’t see selena gomez talking about the shittiness of north korea and it’s autocratic government. you don’t see bts speaking on the issues palestinians are facing right now. you don’t see harry styles talking about income inequality in the united states.

so why are these fucking minecraft youtubers expected to know absolutely everything about every possible problem going on in the world right now as well as being expected to speak on it whenever people bring it up.

half of these people are fucking teenagers who wanted to make content on the internet because it interested them. they aren’t activists. they didn’t sign up to be activists. stop treating them like one.

they are content creators existing to provide content. entertainment. if they want to use their platform that they built to speak on issues that they’re passionate about? great! amazing! but this entire belief that if they don’t speak on something or aren’t educated on a problem means they’re racist or homophobic or transphobic or literally anything else is such a dangerous mindset to have.

content creators are not activists. they don’t owe you anything. it’s great if they feel they are responsible and educated enough to speak on these issues and help people, but expecting them to do anything other than what they’re signed up for, which is creating content for entertainment is a fools dream that shouldn’t be indulged.

you don’t see older fandoms asking their ccs to say “can you please say gay rights?” or asking for their opinion on racial issues.

BECAUSE IT’S NOT THEIR FUCKING JOB

of course fucking gay rights. of course racial issues are valid and should be talked about. BUT THEY’RE PLAYING A VIDEO GAME ABOUT FUCKING BLOCKS.

TALK TO AN ACTIVIST IF YOU WANT AN INFORMED OPINION. THAT’S THEIR JOB. NOT A MINECRAFT YOUTUBER. NOT ANY YOUTUBER UNLESS THEY HAVE ALREADY EXPLICITLY SAID THEY BELIEVE THEMSELVES MATURE ENOUGH TO TALK ABOUT IT.

i am sick and fucking tired of everyone using twitter as a way to educate people. twitter threads are not reliable sources of information. you know what are?

ted talks

websites formatted specifically by activists

organization pages without fucking character limits

stop expecting content creators to know everything. they don’t. they never will. they’ll mess up. they’ll make mistakes. that doesn’t make them fucking racist.

mcyttwt is a fucking joke and i hope that app burns

Hard Boy

Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

(My work is not to be copied or transfered. However, you may reblog the shit out of it.)

Warnings: reader getting bullied, Billy being sweet in his own odd way, unedited,

Hawkins thought of Billy Hargrove in many ways. Asshole. Lady's man. Man whore. But they didn't know him like you knew him. They knew his front, his shield of armor, protective guard. You knew him for who he really was. Your best friend.

He leaned across the car and opened the passenger door for you from the inside, taking your bag and tossing it in the back. You thanked him, sliding in to the passengers seat and receiving many dirty - and jealous - looks from other people in the school parking lot.

"Have a good day?" He recited it as if it were only custom but you knew him well enough to know he really meant it. "Nope. Where's Max?"

He glanced at you through the rearview mirror as he sped off, eyes holding the faintest shimmer of concern. "With a friend or something, I don't know. Why not?" You shrugged, turning to look out the window so he didn't see the way tears were starting to pool.

Billy slammed on brakes in the middle of the road, a couple miles from school, shielded between two stretches of wood. If someone were to come barreling around the corner like he had...well, it wouldn't be good. "Billy what are you doing? Drive."

He snatched your jaw up in his hand, fingers gentle but actions alarming as he forced you to look at him. One glimpse to his beautiful face and the tears were spilling over. Running down your cheeks and ruining your makeup.

Neither of you spoke. Billy just sat there, firmly holding your face, watching your cry. It was embarrassing and you tried to yank away but he wouldn't let you. "Who?" Your brows furrowed in confusion, prompting him to clarify.

"Who did it?" You shook your head, best you could. A silent no that had him scowling at you. He dropped your face and threw the car back in drive, speeding off again after what felt like forever.

"We're going to get slurpies," he informed, eyes on the road though you could see the hardness to them behind his glasses. "and you're going to tell me what happened. Nobody just gets to make my girl cry."

You nodded, wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your hoodie. Billy was rough, but he cared. And you were more than thankful for that.

Taglist ♡

@storytellingwitht @valeriiecameron @stcrkeyluvr @onenightnorth @wishing-i-was-rafes-princess @mackenzielovee @lovelyjj @fiction-is-life @goldenjo @randomwriter14 @slutforsmutsstuff @snipsx @iluvblondeboys @drewbooooo @elizabitchsshit @i-always-come-back-xoxo @topperscumslut @itsalexwin @gillybear17 @loveyru @babypoguelife @hoodforcalum @bethoconnor @kayleiggh @samxslaughter @chaostudee @outerbankspov @onmykneesforrafe @lovingrosewho @maybanks-luver @thatswaggybitch @truewdw1

people saying cc!wilbur won't make sootcest canon and we therefore shouldn't be afraid of it as if this clip doesn't exist

AND THIS IS FOUR (4) GREY PIXELS WERE TALKING ABOUT FOR ALIVEBUR.

THERE ARE MANY MORE GREY PIXELS ON GHOSTBUR.

SO, WE SHOULDN'T BE SCARED.

IN FACT MY DEAR, WE SHOULD BE FUCKING TERRIFIED.

One More Moment - B.H.

a/n: here's a little angst one shot for you guys as an apology for how slow I'm being rn with requests and a lil something while yall wait. I was super depressed and just couldn't help and couldn't write requests it I needed to do something so I wrote this instead. I hope y'all like it ilysm 💗

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x reader

Length: 1.3k

Warnings: Depression, grieving, death mention, Billy is dead in this, mention of suicide, suicidal thoughts lowkey.

The air is cold. It's the end of fall, and winter is rearing its head. Ready to take over and cover Hawkins in snow and ice.

Two things he hated.

He hated colder weather. He hated Hawkins.

Yet he's stuck here now, forever.

You blow some air onto your cold hands, stepping in front of the tombstone.

William Hargrove.

No one ever called him that. Not one person. Except maybe his dad sometimes. But even then, it was a word used to show hate.

To tie him down.

You always wondered why they wrote William, not Billy on his grave.

Maybe it was because it was his legal full name. Or maybe it was because his father never knew his son enough, loved his son enough, to write the name he always went by. Billy. A way to dehumanize him further than he had already done for eighteen years.

You didn't know. But anyone who knew him knew he never answered to William.

No one used to go to the cemetery. You used to never go to the cemetery. It's mostly older graves for older people. People who were at an age that they were ready to die. But more recently the cemetery started to fill with people who were too young to be here. People who still had lives to live, had people to love, had a chance to be happy. To change.

People like Heather Holloway, Barbara Holland...

Billy Hargrove.

Max had been there recently. You see the remnants of an empty cassette beside the stone. She had started bringing them.

No music on them. His cassettes were too precious now. Too raw to give up, even to his own grave. But music meant something. Those cassettes meant something.

It sort of felt like a connection between herself and the dead brother in the ground- one they didn't get to grow before he died.

Maybe one day Max can let his real cassettes go.

You hope so. It's what you're here to do.

To let go.

To try to let go.

You crouch in front of the stone on cold and dying grass. The fallen leafs from trees skitter around with the wind, performing a weird dance together. It breaks the silence in the graveyard.

"Hey Billy..."

Your voice is soft. So quiet, it's almost as if you didn't speak at all. His name sounds foreign on your lips, but all to familiar at the same time. His name is like a curse and a blessing. You could hardly stand to hear it, but the longer you didn't hear it, the more the boy behind the name really faded away.

He was fading.

And eventually, one day in the future, his grave would be another grave with a name no one recognized; one that no one visited.

You clear your throat, suddenly it's gone dry; it feels like you've been in the desert for months, no water in sight.

"How are you?"

He doesn't answer of course. He's not really there. Yes, the body six feet under is his but its not him. Him is somewhere far away. A place you can't reach.

But this is as close as it gets.

Be always hated small talk like this. But he doesn't have a choice but to listen in silence now.

"I'm..." you want to say you're good, but you're not. You aren't sure you'll ever be good again- it's why you need to to this, "okay."

Okay was safe. It was a non-answer. A lie but not a lie.

You dig your hand into your coats pocket, looking for the rectangular item in your pocket; when your fingers touch it, it burns- it hurts. But that's why you're here. To stop the hurt. To...

"I'm leaving," you say it like you're breaking the ice to your boyfriend.

In some way you are- he was your boyfriend. Is... Was. You can't date a dead man.

"I don't think... I can't stay in Hawkins anymore," you miserably offer to the grave in front of you. You're speaking to dead space- but you need to do it.

Leaving and not telling him feels like a betrayal. Even if it's a stone in the ground- it's... He's...

"I'm sorry," you pull your hand from your pocket, a cassette held tightly in your hands, fingers digging into it- you could break it if you're not careful, "I know Max leaves you empty tapes sometimes. But I thought you might like one with music for once."

It's a tape with a dozen songs. One that you had made with him long ago, in the beginning months of your relationship. Back when things were brighter, when the world around you was colourful and when life seemed to have some hope within it.

Back before Hawkins took everything you loved.

"I can't keep it anymore," the air leaves your lungs shakily- you can feel the emotions building up in your chest, begging to be let out. But if you did that now, you know you won't be able to do this.

And you need to do it.

At first you couldn't. Couldn't listen to it, couldn't look at it. It held all your favourite songs and his favourite songs which would subsequently also become your favourites. You couldn't even listen to music for a while after because it stung. It hit too deep, bled too much. It was something you enjoyed doing with him in his room, in his Camaro. Anywhere.

It didn't bring you happiness anymore; it only deepened the gaping wound that he had left when he died.

But over time you listened to it again. One song a day. Till you listened to it all. And then you listened again, and again, on repeat. In your car, in your room, anywhere.

The songs became an escape. One where when you closed your eyes and blocked everything else out, you could imagine in those minutes that he was right there. That he was laying with you. Or standing behind you and putting his hands in your jeans pockets pulling you close.

Sometimes you swore you could feel him. Feel his touch. Smell is cologne. Feel his love.

But then the songs would end. And your eyes would open and everything was grey again.

Everything hurt again.

Because he wasn't there. And he wouldn't ever be there again. You were only fooling yourself; using this tape as an escape from a reality you needed to face. You were fading away, just like he was, but you were still living in all ways that mattered medically.

Beating heart, pumping blood, functioning limbs, warm skin.

The other half of you was dead.

It would kill you.

He would kill you, even in death, Billy Hargrove was your greatest weakness. And he'd kill you if you didn't stop.

Maybe you should have let him. But he'd be angry. So, so angry. And Max too. Your family. Friends.

At what point did you stop your own hurt instead of stopping others hurt?

Closing your eyes as tight as you can, you place the tape onto the grave in front of you. It feels like a weight is lifted, but at the same time, like a new one has arisen.

It is pain. It is hurt. It is agony. It is a love that you can't ever express the way you want to because he's not there to recieve it. It is a darkness that threatens you and tells you this is the wrong choice.

But you need to. To let him go, to get away. Before Hawkins (and the ghost of a dead man) swallows you whole. Drowns you.

"Take care of it, please."

You know the weather will destroy the tape. Maybe it will find its way back to him wherever he is- wherever death takes you. You can't say where, you don't know where. Anything could be possibly considering all Hawkins had shown you.

When you stand and turn away, hand still burning metaphorically from where the tape had been, the wind blows a harsh gust. It goes through you like you're a rickety old house, holes and all, just a skeleton.

It's cold. But it feels like you're being wrapped up by the wind into a hug. For one moment, a single, fleeting moment, you aren't alone.

Then it's gone. Just like everything else. The wind dies down as quickly as it came, and its quiet again, the leaves settling. You're alone.

Hawkins couldn't have you. You wouldn't let it. No matter how much part of you wanted it to take you.

All you needed was one more moment with him. And that was it.

AND ANOTHER THING.

WHY IN THE HEEEELLLLLLLLLLLLL HAVE I READ ALL THE FLUFF/NON-NSFW FICS FOR MIDORIYA. WHY THE HELL ARE THEY ALL TIMESKIP OR SMUT JUST LIKE KIRISHIMAS….

LKE WHY CANT READER AND IZUKU IDK SLOWLY FALL IN LOVE OR TRAIN TOGETHER BEFORE THE FIRST WAR TO GET HIS QUIRKS IN CHECK OR IDK HANG OUT IN THEIR ROOM TO WATCH MOVIES OR BAKE SOMETHING TOGETHER IM SO TIRED OF SMUTTTTTTT OMGGGG LIKE IDC WHAT TYPE OF PLOT IT HAS AT THE END IF THE DAY ITS STILL SMIT 👁️👁️

YOUR SAYING ☝🏾THIS MAN☝🏾 WOULDNT TSKR ME OUT ON WALKS AND PLAY WITH ME IN THE RAIN AND INSTEAD EAT ME OUT?? HE— HE— HELLLLL NAW ‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ Low key I’m getting tired of tumblr fics because all it is is smut🥸

Hi, can you please write for aomine something like his gf isn't the out-going type of gal and he always tries to do a shit ton of touchy stuff so he can get her flustered and always tries to make her horny af, like he loves that shes like another person with him and the rest of the world lol, I HOPE THIS MAKESSS SENSEEE!!!!!! and I reallllyyyyy love your writing likeeeee ufffff honey (iT GETS ME IN THE MOODS SET IF YOU GET ME 😉) BUT lol ima stop being creepy now

Tags: fingering, sweet dirty talk, use of bunny,

a/n: Yes it makes sense bby! And thank you so much!!

-

“Baby” he teased, watching you do your best to hide the heat growing in your face after he smothered you in kisses, not caring about the fact that you two weren’t alone a few minutes ago. “Come here”.

HIs arm wrapping around shoulder snapped your eyes towards his. "you ok bunny?" he asked, waiting for you to squirm again, loving how worked up he could get you just from a name.

Your shy face let out a slight grin, completely wrapped around his finger, "i-i um..... feel, good," you muttered out, hiding your face under the covers as he sat beside you, trying his best not to just eat you up. "You feel good bunny?" He grabbed you into his arms lowering you onto his lap.

You moaned at the feeling of his touch, being so sensitive as he knew, knowing how easy it was to get you to fall apart. All he had to do was whisper in your ear and you'd tremble in his grasp, your pretty little eyes watering as he kissed your neck, clinging onto him so tight, so precious.

You were pulled back onto his chest as you felt his big  hands wandering all over your body, slowly and gently, wanting to take his time and drag every sound and expression out of you. "You're so pretty, my little bunny." He whispered into your ear, his hot breath making you twitch, just how he liked it.

“You get like this just for me bunny, huh?" he smirked, trying to hold back his fat smile as you melted into his arms.

You closed your eyes feeling his gaze on you, his fingers sliding your clothes off while kissing the top of your head, so tiny under him. He pulled you by your neck, firmly grabbing it as you didnt respond, knowing that you were his good girl and he expected you to act like one.

You whimpered, "Y-yeah… just for you," as you sighed in relief as he let go, his fingers loosening their grip, moving there way to your panties as he smirked again. "There's my good girl.” he cooed. You're gonna be a good bunny for me right?"

He pushed his lips on the side of your jaw, bending down enough to reach you, leaving wet sloppy kisses behind your ear as your eyes started watering from the pleasure. You let out a little moaned “yeah” again while his finger was tracing circles onto your clothed clit. 

His other hand moved up from your tummy to under your shirt grabbing your soft tits while pinching your nipples, knowing that you got weak when he touched them. "A-ah minnie!" You whined leaning back onto his chest as your panties were see though now. His hands get rougher with every second, grabbing onto you tits while rubbing harsher and harsher as you couldn't help but grind onto his cock, nothing felt sweeter than when his name left your sweet lips.

His cock got even harder from your ass moving onto it squirming around in his lap. He locked your thighs in place with the arm he was using to play with your soaked cunny. Whimpers left your mouth as you kept grinding your hips as much as you could, not even caring to try to hold back the noises coming between your lips.

"Fuck  bunny, stay still" his deep voice grunted into your neck, watching your his fingers get drenched in you slick. "minnie l-lemme, -ah p-please c-cum? Daddy plea-" Your hot cunt sucking his fingers as his thumb was abusing your poor clit, feeling so overwhelmed by his affection, while he brought you closer to the edge.

"you gonna cum bunny? Cum round my fingers stretching out that little pussy of yours?" Your soft moans, drowned out the lewd sounds of your wetness getting slapped against you cunt. “N-no i want…”

“Hmm bunny,  what do you want? Gotta speak up or daddy can't hear you.”

“I -ah, want, your… cock, please” you sobbed, tears running down your face, eyes red and swollen as ever, and he thinks you're the prettiest hes ever seen you, looking like a beautiful mess while begging for him to fuck you

He quickly took off his boxers, already lining up with your needy dripping cunt  as you cried even more, clinging onto him as his chest was against you back. Pussy so wet and inviting, sucking him in. “Thats a good girl, all you had to do was ask”