#honestly I don't blame ya

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

👻LIMP BIZKIT'S HOUSE OF HORRORS👻

(a terrible, poor excuse for a Halloween campy-"horror" fic that was never intended to be a fic... but yet here we are. Warning: Foul language, "jumpscares"... sure, if you wanna call it that.)

(no seriously, this is not good. turn back now and spare yourselves)

You'd heard the rumors for so long. An old house at the edge of town supposedly haunted by the trapped souls of a band where nu metal went to die. Why did nu metal die in this house? Well no one really knows. But you were here to find out.

You walked into the decrepit house. A chill traveled down your spine. You weren't sure if it is the rain in cool October night or something else.

The wind outside howled, causing the door you stepped through to slam shut.

You immediately turned around and tried to turn the doorknob with no luck.

You stood there as reality set in.

You were stuck here. You shook the flashlight in your hands and turned it on.

A voice stirred you from your thoughts.

"Welcome to my haunted crib punk."

Your eyebrows shot up at the sound. You turned around, trying to find the source of the voice, but there was no one there. "...umm, h- hello?"

"Didn't you read the fuckin' sign outside? What'd ya got a death wish?"

"Who's there?" You raised the flashlight and aimed the beam in front of you.

"WHOA! Easy with that thing. You're gonna blind somebody."

You raised the beam to your face. "I'm not gonna ask again. WHO'S THERE?"

"You do know I can see you right? Even without the flashlight. But since you can't see me, let me introduce myself. Name's Fred Durst. I'll be your host. You're ghost host."

"Isn't that from the Haunted Mans-"

"Do you ever stop talking?"

"Look, can you just help me find out what happened here so I can get out of here?"

"Bossy much. Okay, okay, look... all the answers you're looking for are right up those stairs."

You scoffed. "You've gotta be kidding?"

"Nope."

"Can't I just like, you know, ask you what I want to know?"

"Nuh uh. I don't do interviews. Media twists words for print."

"The media? You do know I'm not a journalist and that you're a ghost, right?"

"Up the stairs. That's how this works."

"Geez, now who's the bossy one." You rolled your eyes before making your way up the steps, each one creaked louder and louder.

When you made your way up you found a long hallway adorned with eerie portraits.

You looked at the inscription below each, 'Sir Wesley Louden Borland. Lead guitarist known for his eccentric looks'.

The hallway continued on forever. Strange artifacts lining the walls.

"Huh, that's an odd take of an armored knight."

You kept walking.

"Wait... did it just, move?" You took in a deep breath. "No you're just imagining things. Don't be silly."

"Yeah, it does that sometimes."

"WHA-?"

"Handsome, right?"

"Wait... FRED?"

"Don't look so shocked."

"I thought I couldn't see you since you're a ghost."

"Nah. I just like to fuck with people. I choose when I want people to see me."

The exasperated look on your face said it all. "What the hell man? Just help me get outta here."

"Sure thing. Just pick a door."

"Huh?" You turned and faced the direction phantom Fred was pointing in.

A short hallway with five doors.

You blinked.

"AHHH! SHIT. HOW did you get there? And why do you look different?"

"I'm a ghost. Remember? I'm everywhere. And I look how I wanna look. You don't like it, that's your problem."

"Look, whatever. How are those doors gonna help me?"

"One of them holds your exit. And who knows maybe you'll find the answers you're looking for.

"Fine. Let's just get this over with."

You marched to the first door on your left. Before you could open the door, you heard banging and clashing over and over again. It just got louder the more your hand reached out for the knob. With a twist and push, you opened the door and were hit with the sight of blinding lights, swinging chains from the ceiling and a figure seated at a drumkit. His back turned to you.

The figure banged on the drums like a madman with a chaotic beat. The lights flicked like a strobe flickering around his form. You got closer, hand reached out to tap his shoulder, but before you could even make contact, his head twisted all the way around to face you whilst his torso remained still.

"TAKE 'EM TO THE MATHEWS BRIDGE!"

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!"

You ran out the room and slammed the door shut.

Fred's mocking laugh echoed from the distance as you braced your hands against your knees and caught your breath.

"No luck with that door I guess?"

"WHAT'S THE DEAL WITH THIS FREAKING HOUSE FRED?"

"Check out the other rooms and you'll see."

You huffed under your breath and marched forward to the next room but not before muttering, "I'm so over this nu metal rendition of Five Nights at Freddy's".

"I heard that."

"Good." You pushed the next door open and stepped inside.

It was pitch black. Not even a window off in the distance to illuminate the floor. Your flashlight had stopped working and wouldn't turn back on. Great.

You heard a sound, grating, like nails on a chalkboard.

You stood there, frozen like a statue, but the sound kept becoming more piercing.

Suddenly the sound reversed backwards, then repeated back to it's original tone before reverting back again. It kept on going like that over and over until the scratching sound got repeatedly faster until the sound changed.

"Are those... horns?"

The sound switched to an upbeat hip hop tempo and a light shone in front of you... and it wasn't from your flashlight.

A pair of floating hands hovered over a turntable as the ghostly fingertips spined the records.

The light grew wider, illuminating a face with a black weed ball cap shielding his eyes.

"DJ LETHAL FROM HOUSE OF PAIN IN THE BUILDING!!!"

The DJ's hands lifted off from the records as the song continued to mysteriously play. The records started to levitate above the turntables. They rotated, thin side facing right at you before sharp knives protruded from the edges charging at you like Chinese stars.

"WHAT THE FU-"

You turned back around and bolted out the door, shutting it before you could finish your expletive statement as the razor sharp records pierced through the wood of the door on either side of your head.

"FRED I SWEAR TO GOD IF YOU DON'T GET ME OUT OF HERE IN THE NEXT-"

woof, woof.

"-huh?"

You looked down, only to be greeted with a wide set of jet black eyes attached to a yellow face. The figure crouched at your feet. It looked human, well not really, more like an alien... but it acted like a... puppy... maybe.

You bent down to get a closer look. "Hi little fella." You slowly reached out to pet it's head.

Fred's voice echoed along the halls, "I'd watch out for him. He-"

"OWWW."

"-bites."

You stood up to nurse your bitten hand. "You little fucker."

The creature growled and stood up on two feet, sharp canines ready to bite again.

"NOT THIS SHIT AGAIN!" You backed off and ran away, heading for the next door, entering it and slamming it shut.

The creature's growls died off in the distance.

A low, treble rumbled around your ears like surround sound.

In front of you, several feet away, a shadowy figure with red glowing eyes stood still. Suddenly, his glowing red eyes appeared to have multiplied down the length of his body.

The low sound seemed to be mirroring the rapid beating of your heart.

You gulped. Loud.

Spotlights illuminated from the ground and you were surrounded by mirrors.

Suddenly the shadowy figure was everywhere. His reflection beaming off every mirror as the spotlights on the floor casted enough light on his sinister face and the long bass guitar he was holding.

Before you knew it the strings detached from the bass' bridge and snapped out like wild whips ready to make contact with your flesh.

You cried out in horror not knowing which direction they were actually coming from and worse, not knowing where the door was through all the mirrors.

You swore the strings were coming right at you in dozens of different directions, but when you never felt anything after each whip, you grew more afraid.

This was psychological warfare.

Without a second thought, you chucked your flashlight out in front of you and the image of the bass wielding madman shattered to the ground revealing the door once again. You ran to it and exited the room as quickly as you possibly could.

When you made it out into the hallway again, you were met with "the alien puppy" once again waiting for you in front of the door across from you, only this time it had transformed into a demonic mutt.

"I take it that's his doghouse- er- um, room?"

The haunting voice of Fred chuckled. "Yeah, a little of both."

You looked back at the demon pup.

It barked at you before scurrying around and moving into the room that was already slightly opened, waiting for you to follow.

"Do I even wanna know what's waiting inside?"

"Don't think I could describe it to you even if I wanted to."

You sighed. "Jesus Christ."

When you made your way through the door you were stopped by a ghostly figure wielding a sharp sword.

"HALT!"

"Wha-"

"What brings you into my lair?"

"Your lair? What are you talking ab- Who are you?"

"The name is Sir Wesley Louden Borland." The phantom stated in a terrible British accent.

"Ohhh, like in those creepy photos in the hallway."

"Creepy pho-" The phantom's accent quickly faded into a nasally American accent that was clearly offended, before he cleared his throat and doubled down on the Brit tone. This time it echoed in a cheesy villainous way that vibrated past your ear drums. "You haven't answered my question. What brings you into my lair?"

You rolled your eyes. "I don't even know anymore. I was searching for some philosophical answer to nu metal, but honestly, now I just wanna go home man."

"Very well then. To escape my lair you must complete one task."

"What's that?"

"Figure out which Wes is real."

"Huh?"

Before you knew it the sword-holding-phantom had vanished and two figures had emerged on the other side of the room.

"REALLY?"

The two figures stood still.

The one, piercing through your soul with an eerie set of double eyes, none of them blinking.

The other, perched high up on a wicker chair, glaring down at you like a sleep paralysis demon haunting your slumber.

"What the hell am I supposed to do now?"

The phantom's voice echoed through the room again. "Figure out which Wes is real."

"Yeah, you said that already Mr. Ghost-Phantom-Man."

Silence.

You shook your head in annoyance and started to tip-toe your way further into the room, closely analyzing the two figures' features as you made your decision on which you were going to interact with first.

Yep, not the sleep paralysis demon.

"Okay mister four eyes, let's check if you're real."

You tickled his mustache.

Nothing.

Grabbed him by the suspenders and sent it snapping back.

Nothing. Didn't even move one bit.

"Guess this is just a really good statue. Alright then, Mr. Sleep-Paralysis-Demon it is."

You marched over to the tall figure and tugged at it's long silk robe it wore.

Nothing.

You reached up for it's hand and was surprised to be met with such hardness. Like stone.

"What the heck! Hey Mr. Ghost-Phantom-Man? I think you sent me some defective Wes dudes over h-"

And that's when you heard it.

The sound of two down tunned guitar riffs going off in the distance.

Your eyes widened.

The guitar went off again.

Suddenly the whispered voice of Sir Wesley Louden Borland was right there in your ear. "You seemed to have forgotten the one standing behind you..."

Your teeth chattered as your body involuntarily turned around, slowly. There was nothing but darkness there.

"...I present to you, Bloody Butcher Borland."

The guitar riff sounded off again and from the shadows emerged bold red figure with fresh blood smeared all over it's body.

He flashed a wicked grin before twisting the neck of the guitar off it's body and it transformed into a sword. He held it up to the light.

"...wait a minute... that's Sir Phantom-Dude's sword!"

Before you knew it the bloodied figure was chasing you, sharp weapon in hand.

"OHMYGOD!!!" You exclaimed as you ran for your life, trying your best to run around him and reach for the door again, but the room was somehow getting larger and larger. The distance between you and the door growing further apart.

You looked back and that's when you really felt like you were going to shit yourself.

You were being chased by Bloody Butcher Borland, as he was joined by every single form of Wes that you'd encountered. Sir Wesley Louden Borland, Four-Eyes, Sleep Paralysis Demon, Demon-Mutt, and Alien-Puppy.

"FRED I COULD REALLY USE YOUR HELP HERE! HOW DO I GET OUT OF THIS ROOM? IT JUST KEEPS ON STRETCHING!" You yelled out as your legs continued to bolt for the door with no luck.

The ghost voice of Fred grunted around you, "Ugh, do I have to do everything around here?"

"GET ME OUT OF HERE!"

"Fine. Here. Catch."

"WHA-"

You heard a whooshing sound above you as you saw brown object dropping in mid-air. You reached your hands out and caught the hard object.

A ceramic rabbit.

And that's when you heard it. The charging footsteps behind you went still and a choir of monotone voices erupted behind you.

"LUCY."

You looked down at the rabbit in your hands, then looked back up at the hoard of Wes figures standing still in front of you, in a trance.

"Is this what you want?" You shook the rabbit figurine out like a teddy bear in front of a baby.

The hoard shook their heads 'yes' in unison.

You gently placed the figurine on the hard floor beneath you and slowly walked backwards, watching as the room began to shrink back to regular size as the hoard of Wes' made their way to the rabbit like travelling zombies.

"MUST PROTECT LUCY. MUST PROTECT FRIEND."

You looked on at the odd ritual in front of you as you continued to make your way backwards until your back had hit the door.

With a sigh of relief you grabbed the doorknob, twisting it open, but you stopped, looking back at the figures in the middle of the room as they took turns clutching onto their ceramic friend like a bunch of Neanderthals'. You had to admit, it was a heartwarming sight, well if you set aside the near-death experience of it all.

You made your way out the door and closed it tight.

You looked ahead at the last door. That had it be it. The exit.

You walked over to the door but quickly stopped. Standing there in contemplative thought. You whispered to yourself in revelation, "Wes lost his friend, Lucy, so then he lost his spirit. When the band lost their friend, Wes, they lost their spirits. When nu metal lost the band, nu metal was no more..."

"So it looks like you did find what you were looking for after all, huh?" Fred's ghost appeared in front of you once more.

You looked up at his ghostly figure, "It all makes sense now."

"I guess you're finally ready to walk through that last door."

"Yeah... I guess so."

"Alright, partner. Keep on rollin', baby. You know what time it is." Fred said softly with a wink.

You shared a knowing smirk with his ghost and opened the door but stopped before going through it, turning back to look at Fred's ghost inquisitively.

"Wait, so why did y'all haunt this house specifically. Was this like where y'all held band practice when starting out?"

Fred rolled his eyes. "Did anyone ever tell you that you ask too many damn questions? Jesus. Yeah sure, that's the reason. Why not? Now get lost. The haunted house tour is over." He shoved you out. "Don't forget to pick-up your souvenir photo at the exit giftshop."

"Souvenir pho-?"

SNAP.

A bright light flashed from the porch awning... or maybe it was lightning. Either way you were too distracted by the blinding light and missed a step on your way out of the porch, tumbling down to the ground.

Thunk.

You were knocked out cold.

When you finally came back to your senses, a figure in white stood above you.

You blinked a couple of times to unblur the image.

"TRICK OR TREAT PUNK. TAKE SOME CANDY FOR THE ROAD."

HAPPY HALLOWEEN 👻🎃🦇💀🐈‍⬛

#if you made it this far waiting for me to explain to you what the hell you just experienced... well you're guess is as good as mine. #listen this started as a small photo post I had saved to my drafts months ago for spooky szn #but then it evolved into this psuedo-fever-dream-halloween-dumpster-fire-fic-with-photos #if you're curious there was going to be an alternate ending where you woke up & realized you had tripped major balls off Lee's kush stash #but I just got lazy and ended it where I did #somewhat of a sappy-halloween-themed hallmark tumblr post with a sprinkle of campy “horror”... if you can even call it that. #so there ya go I guess #If anyone unfollows me because of the sheer stupidity of this post... honestly I don't blame you. #Lucy's Bizkit Boo Bash: Countdown to Halloween #Limp Bizkit #nu metal #Fred Durst #Wes Borland #John Otto #DJ Lethal #Sam Rivers #down the rabbit hole #just give me something to queue

[vampirevatican]

out of my faves, which one should get a fic/ficlet(?)

#.⁠｡⁠*⁠chitchat💭━♡ #gonna give this some time #im assuming y'all want more levi and honestly... i don't blame ya #obeymeswd #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #obey me! shall we date?

[parsleymusic]

the urge to respond to critique about portrayal of unpolitically correct attitudes or phrases or actions or whatever in regards to mental illness with "what if I told you that it's not my job to tell my readers that when my character says stuff like 'my binge eating disorder is not as bad as my brother's bipolar + PTSD combination; he has to win at something' that it's Bad and the Wrong Attitude to have when it's largely a tongue in cheek joke about living with mental illness and watching the people you love experience a different flavor that is also worse

#one of my characters tells another character that her grandmother committed suicide #and the critiquer said that I should have said died by suicide #because that is now the “correct” way to talk about suicide #and... I know that #I work in the psychology field #and i'm aware of how speech impacts perception #however #my character does not care about this distinction #and honestly neither do I #it doesn't matter to me whether or not you say “committed suicide” or “died by suicide” #and I have had someone close to me kill themselves #it fucking sucks but no amount of “died by suicide” takes away the reality of the action being performed by the person dying #imo it's a cheap trick that purports to discern the complexities of suicide in that people who do it aren't fully to blame for it #but it doesn't! that conversation needs to happen in full without shying away from the reality that the person did choose to die! #I just... I don't know #i want to portray life as it is not as we wish it to be and I'm not writing a message book about mental illness #also this critiquer comes from the YA space and this book is adult and I fear that the gearing towards YA generally meaning a more actively #condemning attitude towards “problematic” attitudes regarding characters that doesn't have to be present in adult fiction #dealing with someone else's mental illness for years and years is taxing and takes a toll on you and that's problematic sometimes #but you know what! everything is! #/this person had a lot of good things to say but there is something so blah about this in particular #“say die by suicide” #no #anyway

[jankillbride]

[ID: digital, colored painting of Cibo and Sanakan from BLAME! The background is black except for white repeated text, which reads “SHARE THE BLAME!” with BLAME! filled in and the rest of the phrase just outlined in white. Cibo is looking toward the viewer and Sanakan is looking to the bottom left. The two are close together and their faces are blending into each other.]

hehe the ladies

#blame! #sanakan #cibo #jkb.art #pov you're my roommates and you just keep hearing me say babygirl you don't look so good #body horror tw #jic #oh yeah lore for the 'share the blame!' since i explained 'who's to blame!' for the killy drawing: #i made it up cause i didn't want them to feel left out :( #but more comprehensive answer is that they have a kid together. honestly 'shoulder' the blame might've been better #since they do rely and help each other in the end. they also have their sapphism baby #blame in this set of series of descriptions is a more neutral thing. cause here they are to 'blame' for netkid's existence and just in #general for a lot happening in the series. tho the changes they made are not bad things ya know #oh the other reason i didn't do shoulder the blame is because i wanted to do that for netkid when i get to them #since they have to live with this legacy plus they have the net terminal gene #it's a legacy kinda that they have to carry #edited again cause forgot an actual caption. w/e

[stop-breaking-my-heart-telltale]

It sounds like ANF. After Tillie copied from season 2 for book 1, I wouldn't put it past her to copy from the games again.

I'm gonna have to disagree. Like okay... I can't lie, I'm actually annoyed right now with twdg fans and the comic, so I'm sorry that I'm about to go on a little rant.

Y'all are reeeeally out here making me defend the comic by tossing around accusations that Tillie copied/stole/ripped off other things when I don't believe that's the case. You realize you're making that judgment of "Book Two sounds like ANF" based on a four sentence description, right? and trying to spin it as "Tillie's just copying from the games" based on four sentences? Book Two isn't out yet, we know so little about it!

Hell, Book One barely has anything in common with S2! What it does have is surface level! The most they have in common is taking place at a ski lodge, there's snow, there's walkers and murder, but the plots are not the same. Believe me, I read Book One NINE TIMES, I know what the plot is! It wasn't copied from S2.

Book One is about Clementine and friends building houses before the evil twin decides to be evil for next to no reason and then the remaining three escape in a plane. S2 is about Clementine dealing with incompetent adults, then getting kidnapped and brought to another group, it becomes a prison escape game for an episode, then Rebecca has a baby and the story becomes about Kenny losing his shit after everything that's happened. Just because there's a ski lodge [which btw is in only ONE episode of S2 whereas Book One it's the main location] and snow in both of them doesn't mean they're the same.

By that logic, I guess S2 copied from the 2010 horror movie Frozen, which takes place at a ski lodge and has a lot of snow and is about survival.... never mind that the movie is about people stuck on a chairlift after the resort shuts down for the night and isn't a zombie movie.

And y'know what?

This is ANF's steam description: "When family is all you have left…how far will you go to protect it? After society was ripped apart by undead hands, pockets of civilization emerge from the chaos. But at what cost? Can the living be trusted on this new frontier? As Javier, a young man determined to find the family taken from him, you meet a young girl who has experienced her own unimaginable loss. Her name is Clementine, and your fates are bound together in a story where every choice you make could be your last."

Here's what we have for Clementine Book Two: "Clementine and her new friends are rescued by an island community led by an enigmatic doctor called Miss Morro, but just as Clementine's scars are finally beginning to heal, she discovers dark secrets that threaten to tear her new life apart. Can Miss Morro be trusted? What about the rest of the islanders? And just how far will Clementine go to protect the ones she loves?"

The only similarities in these descriptions is "how far will you go to protect loved ones" and "can these people be trusted" which I don't know if y'all are aware of this, but those are very common phrases within descriptions of pieces of media. You could apply both of those two the rest of the games, too:

How far is Lee willing go to protect Clementine/Can the group Lee meets be trusted? How far is Clementine willing to go to protect her friends/Can the cabin group be trusted? How far is Clementine willing to go to protect AJ/Can the Ericson crew be trusted?

Hell, you can apply it to Book One: How far is Clementine willing to go to protect her new friends/Can the twins be trusted?

It's faux deep media analysis all for the sake of discrediting Tillie over a comic you don't like. I hate the comic but I will defend Tillie, okay. Hate the comic all you want, but don't make shit up to convince everyone, "hey not only is it a bad comic but it's also STOLEN."

And when Book Two comes out, if it does share striking similarities to ANF that are undeniable, then we'll talk. But right now, the damn thing isn't even out, no one has read it, please stop doubling down that it's copied from ANF based on a basic four sentence description and nothing else. I understand you hate it and WANT it to be morally bad so that you feel better but please stop.

Again, I can't believe I'm defending the damn comic trilogy. Know that I am laughing... but it's a very sad laugh, like one would make after spilling soup in their lap and now everyone's looking at them and they just gotta laugh but really, they're just slowly slumping in their chair and hoping hell opens a portal for them....... blegh.

#asks #twdg clementine #i don't like the comic y'all #stop making me feel like i gotta defend it #i beg #sksksksks #though to be fair i'm more so defending tillie than the comic #i feel like i have to because everyone else just shits on her for doing a job she was hired to do #even she acknowledges that she didn't think she'd be a first pick to do the comic due to what she usually does #and honestly i think she wants to be done too sksksk #i watched an interview with her where she was talking about how she's had to do these books super fast #so they can release one a year #and she was like “after this i'm done” #and i don't blame her sksksks #if i were her i'd want to be done with everything too because the twdg fandom has a lot of little shits #i wish her all the best and i will hold out a small bit of hope that book two is an improvement #ya never know... could actually be good..... cj wrote hesitantly

[h-harleybaby]

this might be slightly boring but i saw it on another blog and it’s been plaguing my mind ever since

making out hcs w with Butters, Kyle and Kenny pls? 🥺 it does something feral to me man idk

Making out hcs with Butters, Kyle, and Kenny

Butters

• Butters kisses are usually really soft and gentle, y'all don't often make out because he gets too embarrassed

• He's pretty nervous but that's probably just because you're the first girl he's ever made out with and he wants to get it right for you

• He loves making out with you tho, whenever y'all do he swears sparks fly

• Turns out it just wasn't a good idea to make out in abandon building with bad wiring because sparks actually DID fly. Technically he was right tho

• He doesn't often take the lead with making out, he prefers to leave it up to you

• Butters is probably the type to accidentally moan in the kiss and feel really embarrassed about it and hope to god you didn't hear it

• You did. But you also really liked it and you encouraged him to do it more often/not hold back. He practically melted when you said that-

• He really likes it when you bite his lip while you're making out but he'll never admit that, he's scared you would think it's weird

• He's really physical, he just needs to have his hands on you. So often times he'll cup your cheeks or have his hands slightly under your shirt (only to hold your hips, he wouldn't dare go any farther without your permission)

• He also really likes it when tug on his hair a lil while y'all make out, he can't explain it for the life of him it just feels really good

Kyle

• Making out with Kyle is really sweet, I swear! He's just really awkward about it

• But it's honestly really cute <33

• He gets so scared because he's thinking "What if I kiss weirdly?? What if they don't like my kisses?? WHERE DO I PUT MY HANDS-"

• Ya know, that kinda stuff. You probably have to guide his hands to your waist or something so he'll stop mentally freaking out and sweating

• Hear me out, Kyle probably gets so nervous that his hands start shaking, and when you put his hands on your waist his finger literally will not stop tapping you. It's a nervous habit he has, like tapping your fingers on a desk

• Once he gets in the hang of it and stops freaking out he probably thinks he died and went to heaven. You gotta be an angel, right?!

• He's probably the type to smile into a kiss and whenever y'all separate he looks at you with heart eyes

• Although at first, kissing made him really nervous once he gets used to it, it probably calms him down and makes him act like a complete simp

• The world around him disappears because now all he can think of is you and your kisses

• He just can't get enough of you <3333

Kenny

• Kenny's really passionate when making out, and tbh he's always trying to make out with you

• He can't keep his hands to himself either, so they're gonna be everywhere

• He's also the kind of person who smirks into a kiss and literally grabs your waist to pull you in closer

• He loves when you have your hands in his hair when y'all make out, it just makes him more eager

• Y'all are probably a little light headed at the end of at least one kiss because he doesn't wanna let go

• Most of the time kisses between y'all end in making out, no matter where you are, even if it's just a lil peck

• Can you really blame him for wanting more?

• Hear me out on this, Kenny probably smokes and he accidentally got you addicted to his kisses because of the nicotine in the cigarettes he smokes

• Kenny feels really bad about it and he tries to quit smoking

• But he isn't complaining too much, it also means more making out for him

#south park x reader #h harleybaby needs help #south park x reader headcanons #butters x reader #butters stotch x y/n #butters stotch x reader #kyle broflovski x reader #kyle x reader #Kyle broflovski x y/n #kenny mccormick x reader #kenny x reader #Kenny McCormick x y/n #Harley’s anons <33 #harley’s requests!

[zuffer-weird-girl]

Laying on you vs you laying on them

Him laying on you

More often than you think.

Shigaraki is always doing something, be making a plan, overthinking something or even playing lol. His brain never stops.

So, as all human beings, he needs a break, something that could take his mind out of this cruel reality he has to live in.

You.

He often finds himself laying on your thighs as some sort of escape of reality. He can simply just close his eyes and pretend that nothing is going on for a sec just for his head to finally quiet down

He is thankfully for it, but doesn't show it.

But the little sigh he always let it whenever his head hit your lap is already enough.

You laying on his lap

Not as often but still happens

Especially before the whole story of the paranormal liberation front.

Whenever he is playing on his switch he allows you to crawl on him to rest there.

Is like his personal lucky charm. He swears that everytime you lay against him whenever he is playing something, he always wins or has a higher score than before.

Won't scratch your head though... the fear is always there even with gloves.

Don't blame him, you all know what he went through and cmon I this guy is dating you is because he feels SOMETHING for ya.

Him laying on you

It happens as often as he says how much he loves heroes-

Seriously though, it would take a long ass while to make this fella have any sort of contact with you, imagine something as intimate as that.

Kai is a very reclusive man, so for him to show any signs of "vulnerability" is a dangerous thing. So with this, plus his things with touch, it makes this way too much difficult to deal with...

But, if you are patient enough... there will be a time he will trust you enough to do that. And trust me, at first it won't be a pretty sign.

For him to lay his head on your lap it would mean he is done, absolutely done with everything and he needs to just let go for while. Allow his walls to crumble down.

Might let a tear or two escape his golden eyes but you won't see it thanks to him being turned away from you but also with a death grip on your thighs.

After this, Chisaki will have a lot of trust on you and your relationship will surely make a lot of upgrate. But again, it won't be often this guy allows himself to do that since he is "the man of the relationship and he need to be the one providing you comfort".

You laying on his lap

Again, it will take a while, but not much compare to him laying on you though.

Won't take too much but again, it must be on a point where he is comfortable enough for you to touch without immediately getting killed by his quirk.

Germophobic.

Kai takes pride on whatever thing he does it well, so at the moment he notices he is one and only one who could provide you some comfort he is very ... pleased.

At first you will feel his muscle on his (big) thighs tense and contract a bit at the sudden contact before a sign will leave his covered lips as he stares at everything else asides from you with a faint blush on the tip of his ears.

With his gloved fingers awkwardly patting gently on your head as he asks what happened and if he could fix it.

He is trying. Just have patience with him.

Him laying on you

Aaaa Dabi. The cat man.

He would only do this on a very intimate level since you know... gotta keep the bay boy act for everyone to not mess with him nor his plans and all.

But when he is comfortable enough he will do it without regrets or shame.

Enough to just enter the room you are in before falling with his face in the middle of your chest while groaning from the day he had.

Is not often, but is not like Kai in this case.

He just... feels better when he is the one holding you. But he never denies when is a chance where you can just comb his inked hair (or white, it depends on what time you are honestly) and just whisper sweet nothings to him.

Seriously, he is like a cat that way.

If you move he will growl though. You are stuck with him until HE is satisfied.

... I hope you até and went to the bathroom before this man laid down on you. Because he sure as he'll ain't getting up.

You laying on him

He feels better than him laying down you.

Is more comfortable and is like having a weighted blanket on him.

Brings him joy, no jokes.

Might be on his lap or chest he doesn't care. He has that smirk of pure content on his face.

Will scratch the back of your neck and I swear the God he is the best of it enough to bring you to a putty and moaning mess (not in that way you fucking pervert)

Unless you want him to

Much like him laying on you... he won't let you go.

He is like a leech the moment you just TRY to move.

I'm talking about all of his four limbs just circling around your body and clinging onto you enough to not let even air pass through the both of you.

I live for soft clingy dabi I'm sorry.

"Touya pls-" you will wheeze out and he would only chuckle and nuzzle on you

What an ass. An loveable ass.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #shimura tenko x reader #overhaul x reader #chisaki kai x reader #dabi x reader #touya todoroki x reader #bnha villains #bnha x reader #bnha villains x reader #kai chisaki x reader #zuffer writings #just came up in my mind

[hypewinter]

Bruce sighed. He was in over his head. Wayyyy over his head. Honestly he only had himself to blame. Really what was he thinking? He'd taken in one child and suddenly thought he was an expert in traumatized youths? He'd been overconfident and rash and now Danny was suffering for it and would probably hate him forever now and-

"I can hear you fidgeting through the door!" Came a voice that broke Bruce out of his spiral. There was a shuffle before the heavy wooden door swung open. A boy with floppy black hair and ice blue eyes stared up at him.

"You could've just knocked ya know?" Danny said.

Bruce fidgeted a little more, embarrassed that he'd been caught. "Bu- I thought you were-"

"Still mad at you?" Danny interrupted. "Yeah, I can tell by your face. You didn't even bother to wipe off your eyeshadow."

It was true. Bruce had rushed through patrol and gotten back home as quickly as possible. He'd barely shed his armor as he practically tripped over himself trying to get up to Danny's room. He had come up with and memorized the perfect apology to smooth things over between the two of them and had been dying to get it out before he messed anything else up. But now all the words he'd rehearsed left him.

"Wait. You're not angry?"

Danny leveled him with a blank stare as he leaned on the door frame. "Oh I'm always angry. Just not at you. At least not right now."

Upon seeing Bruce struggle to form words, Danny continued. "You were right," he said. "I shouldn't have beat up Dylan and his little minions. I knew they were intentionally trying to goad me into hitting them and I did it anyway. I-I'm sorry."

For the first time since their conversation began, Danny looked away. His look of mild annoyance was now replaced with one of shame.

"I just- they were making fun of my family. Saying stuff like 'they were small town trash and no one would miss them'. And that comment just set me off." Tears were now springing to Danny's eyes as anger took over his features.

Danny's hands balled into fists as he continued. "I couldn't just let that go. Especially not when they're the ones that are trash. They're so bothered by a 'commoner' wearing the same uniform as them that they feel the need to persistently bully me even when I have nothing to do with them. We don't share any classes, I eat lunch alone, I'm not in any clubs or extracurriculars and if I had a choice I wouldn't even be going to that damn school to begin with!"

Tears were freely streaming down Danny's cheeks as he stopped to catch his breath. His whole body was shuddering with fury. Bruce carefully put a hand on the boy's shoulder, ready to back off if Danny pulled away but he leaned in instead. Given the go ahead, Bruce carefully pulled Danny into a hug, slowly patting his back.

It took a while before either of them spoke. "I know what they said was out of line," Bruce started. "And trust me, they'll definitely receive punishment. But-"

"I know, I know," Danny murmured, turning his face to the side while still clutching onto Bruce's shirt. "Sending 5 boys to the hospital with my training is still bad."

After staying like that for a while, Danny finally looked up at Bruce. "Am I gonna be expelled?" he asked.

Bruce gave a soft smile. "Don't worry. You'll be fine. I promise."

Danny finally pulled away, rubbing at his face with his sleeve and returned Bruce's smile with a toothy one of his own. "You're gonna bribe them or something aren't you? There's gonna be a conveniently placed donation or something. You're just like those rich pricks," he teased.

"Heyyyy! How come Danny gets to cuss?" came a small voice from beyond the shadows of Danny's room. Soon enough, Dick made himself seen, Zitka cradled in his arms as he sleepily stolled forth.

"He's not," Bruce answered quickly. They had just convinced Dick to use more "colorful" insults as opposed to outright cursing and Bruce for one was not willing to face Alfred's wrath if he reverted back. A side glance at Danny told him the exact same thought was running through the boy's mind too. Leave it to Alfred to put the fear of God into two vigilantes who beat up criminals every night.

Dick yawned as he reached out for Bruce. "Then why'd he just say-"

"Don't tell Alfred and you'll have my dessert for a week," Danny interrupted in a panic.

Dick grinned. "Deal," he said as Bruce picked him up. The little boy blinked his eyes a few times before falling back asleep in Bruce's embrace.

Danny halfheartedly glared at the sleeping child. "I swear that kid is gonna grow up to be a politician the way he manipulates like that."

All Bruce could do was sigh. After all Danny was probably onto something. Dick knew very well the influence he had on others and never shied away from using it. It was very likely that he would be holding this particular little incident over their heads for at least the next two weeks.

Bruce looked at Danny, a thought suddenly dawning on him. "Why was Dick sleeping in your room? Did he have a nightmare again?" he asked, shifting the conversation.

Danny shook his head. "Nah. He just insisted that we both make up. He wouldn't leave until I agreed. That kid really doesn't know the meaning of 'no'."

Bruce felt his heart melt as he looked down at the boy in his arms. Why was Dick such a sweet child?

Danny grinned as he started heading downstairs. "Don't get all sappy yet. He was also walking me through his plan of how he got back at Dylan and his gang for my suspension."

The smile dropped from Bruce's face. "Wh... what do you mean revenge? Danny? Danny!?"

I told y'all I'd do it myself if I had to.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #winter's tales

[bunnyreaper]

𝖈𝖔𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖗𝖘 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖈𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖘 𝔞 𝔰𝔬𝔞𝔭 𝔪𝔞𝔠𝔱𝔞𝔳𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔰𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝖕𝖙 4 — 𝖕𝖙 3 𝖍𝖊𝖗𝖊 wc - 5.8k warnings - 18+/nsfw, dom/sub dynamic, hints of petplay notes - i blame barry for the delay, jk. anyway, sorry it took so long but i hope you enjoy! also on ao3! ♥

You've officially reached the point of insanity, and there's no turning back. One date with Johnny, and you're practically doodling his name in a journal with hearts all around, or putting your name with his just to see how it sounds. 

Admittedly, you haven't done either of those things, but you did turn down another night out drinking this weekend on the off chance you end up having plans with Johnny—which might be just as insane, if not more. Especially since you hadn't brought up your intention with Johnny. 

You suppose there's no time like the present, so cuddled up on your couch, you bring up your messages to Johnny and start typing.

i miss you so much, even if it's only been a few days!! when can I see you again? 

Straight to the point—unbridled emotion that's honestly a little cringeworthy, but there's little point in pretending to be something you're not, especially when Johnny seems perfectly into it. 

You have to distract yourself for a little while, scrolling through various social media apps to occupy your mind as you wait for a response. It's not too long before your phone pings, and you're rushing to click the notification—each time his name pops up on your screen your stomach flips, and you always click onto the message far too eagerly. You wonder if he does the same.

Been thinking, and I did have an idea in mind, but now am overthinking.

That certainly piques your interest, as you speedily type back a response, almost demanding an answer. 

tell me!! 

You watch the screen as it tells you Johnny is typing, then nothing. Then typing again, then nothing. After a minute or so of stopping and starting, his picture fills the screen as his call waits for you—you pick up immediately.

"Hey, pet." He greets cheerfully—so much so that you can hear the smile in his voice. It's so much better now the image of it is burned in the back of your mind—it feels like the two of you never stopped smiling when you were together.

"Hi, Johnny!" You reply, just as enthused, despite it only being a day since you last spoke. "What's your idea?" 

Your insistence on hearing his idea makes him laugh.

"Straight to the point, lass. I was thinking that ya could come stay fer the weekend?" You detect a hint of hesitance in his voice, while your heart practically leaps at the prospect. 

A whole weekend with Johnny sounds like a dream—talking, cuddling, kissing... maybe more. You burn with need thinking about finally taking things to a more sexual level with Johnny. So far you've only teased each other, and even that has made you unbelievably needy—practically every conversation with him leaves you dripping and aching, leaves you yearning for relief that you can only get at Johnny's hands. 

Not only that, but maybe you'll get to explore more of your dynamic together—the thought of getting to submit to him sends you into a tailspin. You know it would come so easily, you know you'd slip under Johnny's command so easily were he to just take ahold of your metaphorical leash. 

You come to, realising you'd fallen completely silent instead of responding when Johnny speaks again—lighthearted yet hesitant.

 "... But it's okay if you don't want to—"

"I want to! On base?" You ask, already starting to unfurl the logistics in your head.

Johnny chuckles good-naturedly, seemingly amused by the idea of having you come over to his place on base. "Nah, I have a flat in Hereford."

"Oh, cool. I was a little scared for a moment." You admit, a hint of nervousness before you change tack. "But ooh, are you aiming to get laid this weekend? Bold move, Johnny." 

Admittedly, you're teasing and not offended by the assumption in the slightest, if anything, you know wholeheartedly that you want him. If you go on much longer with the level of teasing Johnny subjects you to without any relief, you may just combust. 

"You're the one making assumptions, needy girl." He teases right back, and then continues more earnestly. "I wasn't counting on it, jus' want to spend some quality time with you. Can't exactly cuddle up in a café."  

How he manages to balance wholesome and filthy so well you have no idea. Consistently, Johnny shows his depth and keeps you on your toes by making you flustered in every possible way. One moment you're blushing from desire, the next from his sweetness. 

"So... it's a sleepover, then?" You giggle as you snuggle closer to the couch cushions, already thrilled at the idea of spending time with Johnny in any way. 

Johnny laughs right along with you, launching back into joking. "I'll even paint your nails if ya want. Braid your hair, talk about boys, as long as the boy is me..." 

The hint of possessiveness makes your stomach do somersaults—despite the early stages of your relationship, your heart is set on Johnny, and it's reassuring to know he might be in just as deep. 

"You're the sweetest! Do you even know how to braid hair, though?" You try to imagine Johnny's large hands working with delicate strings of hair, as braiding is something you even struggle to do yourself.

"I have sisters and nieces. Taken part in many a makeover." He proudly admits, and you can feel the joy radiating off of him. No threat to his masculinity at all, just sheer enjoyment at being the subject of his niece's whims.

The image it conjures up is downright adorable.

You nod to yourself, storing that piece of information in the back of your mind for later. "I'll keep that in mind for when I need to dress up for a special occasion." 

The giggles are unavoidable as you picture big, bulky Johnny painting nails—you'd put good money on him being the kind to poke out his tongue when he concentrates.

Your thoughts start to drift to other plans for the weekend, other things you might get up to. Johnny was adamant that sex wasn't expected, but on your end, it's certainly still desired... at least in theory. 

There are still some residual nerves and worries, even with Johnny's constant sweetness—past events, past bad experiences lurk in the back of your mind waiting to sabotage the present. 

The need you feel almost overwhelms all of that though—the way Johnny just seems to speak to all the submissive parts of you, making you feel so desired and so safe.

"So... what if I want to have sex?" You ask, voice falling quiet as if admitting something forbidden—as if Johnny isn't going to do filthy things to you far beyond just sex. 

A throaty, strained groan leaves the man, his voice dropping low and dripping with desire. "Might have to have you stay longer, since you won't be walking after."

You suspect the idea of you struggling to walk isn't just bragging—if you close your eyes, you can almost see his length, remembering how good it felt even though thick denim jeans. 

"I— yeah, okay." The sigh that leaves you is instinctual, hot with anticipation.

"I've got condoms, but yer welcome to bring your own," Johnny mentions. "And I'll pick ya up Friday evening, drop you off Sunday night? How's that sound?" 

"Wonderful." You say honestly, loving that you'll get to spend the weekend with him, all while being cared for and driven there and back. "Ooh, I get to be your passenger princess." 

You giggle mischievously, playing it up for Johnny as your mind runs wild with ideas. 

"Don't be getting any ideas, lass." He chides, playfulness clear in his tone.

"Hey, I was just planning on taking over your radio and telling you fun stories. Nothing more!" Your voice rises through your protest, as before Johnny had turned it dirty, you really hadn't been thinking of the way your hands may drift to his thigh, or palm at his cock. 

"Not sure if I believe that. I felt the way you were squeezin' me under that table, yer a naughty girl." He purrs, making shivers run through you.

"You started it, not me." Your gasp is full of offence, proclaiming your complete innocence. Of course, you had wanted to feel him up way more than you did and had undoubtedly had a few very sinful thoughts while he was sitting next to you. 

But you had been good, had behaved, and kept your hands to yourself. It was Johnny who led you to sin.

"So, you won't be feeling me up unless I'm the one guiding you?" 

At that you fall silent, too stunned to speak—the thought of Johnny guiding you through pleasing him, guiding you into being perfect, just for him is overwhelming. He'll lead you deeper and deeper into submission—trust.

"Oh, you like the sound of that." Johnny's purr has you completely dead to rights, as once more, he sees right through you.

You take a few deep breaths, trying to settle your rapidly swirling arousal. "Of course I do..." 

Johnny doesn't relent in his teasing, in his almost cruel display of control of your desire. Everything from his word choice to the dominant edge in his voice sends you spiralling. "Want me to show you how to please me, puppy?" He coos. "Show you how tae be a good girl fer me?" 

"Please, sir." You feel your mind slip just a little—falling so easily into that blissful state just listening to Johnny's tone, finding it so easy to fall for him. 

"Won't have to show you much, you just know how to turn me on naturally, like it's instinct. Fuck, lassie." The guttural noise from Johnny shows the effect his own words have on him too. 

You hope he's squirming just like you are, achingly hard and straining against his jeans, just like he was in the café. 

The tension crackles in the air between you, the silence thick with your joint lust settling deep in your respective guts. 

You let out a shaky sigh before you respond. "It's only fair for us to be equal on that front since you just... I don't even have words. It's like you read my mind so you can drive me crazy." 

Johnny is undoubtedly insightful, likely an occupational thing, but sometimes it's scary how well he can read you. He's not the only one who naturally knows how to appeal to someone's baser desires.

For a moment, and quite unfairly as the logical side of your brain notes, your gut twists at the idea of how he became so well practised.

Johnny's sweet laugh pulls you from that train of thought. "Am a smart man, perceptive, what can I say? Know how to read ma pet."

"I'm not your pet." You note, not bitterly, but rather plainly. You're not Johnny's— 

"Not yet, aye, but you will be." He says with a sense of certainty. 

"Johnny..." You don't even know what to say to that, beyond begging and pleading for him to make it come true—but that hardly feels appropriate right now.

"Even if we don't have sex this weekend, I'd like to explore things with us a little, if tha's okay?" He asks, his voice open and inquisitive, almost shy in how quietly he poses the question.

"Me too, I don't wanna rush too much but holding back somehow feels...wrong." You sigh, wishing you had the words to really explain the pull you felt. "It's like I know I shouldn't be rushing head first into this, but... I can't stop it." 

Johnny is truly a magnetic force of a man, both in who he is and the way he treats you. There's so much about him that you can't wait to get to know, all the beauty and scars in equal measure, each story—the meaning of the waver behind his smile, the way he sounds first thing in the morning. 

"Me either, if it helps." He admits, sharing the sentiment. "It's okay to fall, just gotta be there tae catch each other, aye?" 

Your eyes flutter shut as you rip the phone away from your face, letting out a loud exhalation and a whispered "fuck". The warmth of his words and the weight of the meaning behind them overwhelming you, wrapping around you like a cosy blanket.

When you feel a little calmer, you return the phone to your ear to agree with Johnny's sentiment, though not quite as viscerally as you did in private.

"Yeah, just gotta keep each other straight." Your throat tightens as you push the words out. 

The silence on the line is overtaken by shuffling from Johnny's end for a moment before he clears his throat. "Gotta go, pet. Duty calls."

"It's... 8 pm, what are you doing at this hour?"

There's a laugh from Johnny, and a more insistent knocking in the background. "Going for a pint with the lads." 

"Oh duty, huh?" You tease. 

He hums in affirmation, unashamed. "Team bonding, essential stuff for the functional operation of any squad." 

"Have fun, Johnny." You wish him well sincerely, even if part of you wishes the call didn't have to end. "Talk soon."

"Talk soon, princess. Sleep well." He makes a kissing noise before ending the call, his photo disappearing off your screen before you lock the phone and clutch it to your chest just for a moment. 

'It's okay to fall, just gotta be there tae catch each other.'

His words echo through your mind over the coming days—the light in an otherwise dreary weak. 

You were definitely falling. 

————

Packing your bag feels like chaos, as you desperately scramble to not forget a single thing. You're only going for a weekend, and yet you're packing like you're bunkering down for the apocalypse. Well, a million pairs of underwear will be necessary with how Johnny ruins them just with his words and his voice—being there in person means you'll probably be going through a new pair every hour. 

And of course, you need cute extra outfits, in case the two of you go anywhere... that means extra shoes too. Johnny is going to think you're crazy with all the bags and belongings you're bringing. 

Thankfully, you got ready hours ago—did your makeup and hair to perfection and put on a pretty dress that you may have ordered just for Johnny. Okay, maybe you ordered several dresses just for Johnny.

As you rush to put the finishing touches on your packing, your phone buzzes with a text. 

Outside whenever you're ready :) 

i'll be out soon! &lt;3

Maybe you should tell Johnny you'd buzz him up, but considering that your packing has made your flat look like a tornado has ripped through it, perhaps it's best not.

You do your best to rush, not wanting to exhaust Johnny's good patience, jamming in a few final items you might need just in case, before locking up your flat and heading down to the lobby.

You step out into the car park, spotting Johnny standing beaming, leaning against a jeep. His arms and chest bulge in his burgundy Henley, his jeans are slung low on his hips in such a tempting way. Is it possible he got more attractive since the last time you saw him? 

Your eyes crawl over him, drinking in every little detail and falling for his good looks all over again—just as enraptured in his beauty as the first time. 

"Hi." You call out as soon as the two of you meet eyes, the spark between you instantly reigniting just through a look.

"Hey, you." He immediately reaches for your bag, taking the weight off of your shoulder like it's nothing to him—even though the weight was already starting to strain your shoulder. "Let me grab that for yer." 

You let him take your bag, watching with glee as opens the boot to put it away. The manners are such a turn-on. "What a gentleman." 

His chest puffs up in pride, a resolute look on his face. "Ma maw raised me right." 

After closing the door to the boot, Johnny jogs round to the passenger side, holding the door open for you to climb inside.

"That she did." You nod, impressed and honestly swooning at the princess treatment as Johnny climbs into the driver's side.

With the two of you finally in the car, Johnny leans back to grab a shopping bag from the backseat, opening it to display a range of goodies. "Need anything? I brought drinks and snacks." 

You peer inside the bag to see what he brought before meekly taking a bag of cookies and a can to drink. "Ooh, it's like a real road trip." 

Johnny reaches back to put the bag away, stopping with his hand resting on the back of your seat—his baby blues shine, as does his smile as he looks upon you. "Gotta look after ma girl." 

Your heart hammers against your chest, your cheeks flush and burn.

His girl.

"I could get used to that." You whisper, lost in watching his mouth, recalling the way they wrapped around those words.

"Me too, bonnie." 

Before he turns his attention to getting the car running, he double-checks your seatbelt, making sure you're safe—he makes sure his rearview mirror is perfectly placed taps to activate the directions on his phone. 

And then he does the thing—the arm on the back of the seat, backing out of the parking space and looking so fucking hot while doing it. You're entirely transfixed. 

"I'm just getting it out of the way now, but I am gonna stare at you a tonne, you already look so attractive when you're driving." You know you're babbling just a little, a side effect of the nerves, and the fact that Johnny looks so good to you right now.1

"I'm all yours to feast yer eyes upon." He says with a wink, before turning his attention to the road as he pulls out of your apartment's car park.

"Lucky me." You whisper, gaze tracing over all of his features. "Especially since I love looking at you so much." 

"Shame fer me tha' I have tae keep my eyes on the road." The smile on his face widens as he spares you a glance, doing a quick double-take. 

"At least we have all weekend to spend time together uninterrupted." Feeling brave, you reach out to rest your hand on the back of Johnny's head, caressing the nape of his neck and threading your fingers in the roots of his hair. 

Johnny's shoulders relax, as he leans slightly into the touch. "That we do." His voice turns serious momentarily. "Did you let someone know where you're going?" 

Sweet Johnny, always concerned for your safety, even when it comes to him. The awareness he shows is another thing in the long list of little details you admire about him.

"I forwarded all of your info to a friend, so you should be very afraid." You tease easily. Your friend is under strict instructions to call the police should you not check-in.

"Terrified, lassie." He smirks. "Just tae be clear, you wanna go home at any point, I'll take you, or drive you to the station if yer not comfortable." 

"I appreciate it. And if you want to kick me out, feel free." 

"I'd never." He gasps, full of offence. "Unless ya decide to trash my flat, and even then that's only if you started damaging my keepsakes from ma granny." 

It's your turn to gasp now. You wonder if that comment was inspired by past events—the kind of warning that only comes after you've experienced the event. "Only a monster would do such a thing." 

"Aye, and I bet you can be a brat, but not a monster." 

You shrug, a coy smile on your face, knowing just how bratty you can be when you want to be. "Everyone needs to be a little bratty sometimes." 

"Hmm, do they now? Good job I won't get tired of putting you in yer place then, pet." 

Johnny's hand slides from the gear stick to your thigh, his fingers curling around the exposed flesh just above your knee. The feeling is entirely electric, especially in combination with his words, making you hyper-aware of every sensation as his thumb sweeps over your skin and his hand tugs your legs ever so slightly apart. 

"This okay?" He asks, glancing down to where his hand is settled on you—you know 100% if you said no, he'd withdraw in an instant. 

"More than okay." You smile earnestly, slipping your own hand across to rest in the same place on his broad thigh.  "But can I do the same?" You embrace the denim beneath your fingertips, relish in the firm muscle that rests underneath. 

"As long as it's just tha', don't distract me too much." He smirks, turning briefly to wink at you. 

You try to keep your eyes on the road and your hands respectful. "Can't concentrate on two things at once? Seems unlike you." You tease. 

"I can." He protests, firm and certain, before his voice softens. "But I dinnae want to risk it. Precious cargo on board." He fixes you with a meaningful look in between glances at the road. 

"Johnny..." You sigh, blushing profusely at his compliment and way of thinking. 

"Dinnae care what anyone says, a man who'll drive like a nut with his lovie in the car is no man at all." He nods firmly, face morphing into something serious—though his eyes are filled with mirth, as his serious facade almost cracks."

"So no road head... ever?" You gasp, genuinely a little taken back at the prospect. 

Johnny breathes deeply through his nose, his knuckles on the wheel turning white as his hand at your thigh grips. He faces ahead still, yet speaks slowly. "If the first time I get yer pretty mouth on me is while I'm drivin', I will crash, tha's all am saying." 

"I value your honesty." Your voice leaves you as a whisper, your attempt to joke falling flat at your own breathlessness. You take a moment to compose yourself, before starting to tease again. "Save it for tonight, then?" 

It's Johnny's turn to swallow hard. "We'll see." 

The car journey falls silent for a little while, and the lack of conversation, while comfortable, allows for unpleasant and doubtful thoughts to creep in. 

The truth is, you can talk a big game, but sometimes your desire becomes outpaced by your nerves—then you're left struggling in a swirling pit of darkened thoughts. Every time Johnny pulls away to change gear, you find yourself feeling a little colder until his hand returns. 

But it doesn't do well to dwell on anxious thoughts. You force yourself to stop biting your lip, stop letting your mind flicker back to bad experiences, and actually speak to the one person who can offer you comfort right now.

"I am a little nervous..." You let the words fall free, and feel a little surprised at how small you sound.

"Aww, don't be. There's no pressure at all, promise." He says, sounding sweet and genuine—his hand squeezes your thigh once again. "Even if the furthest we go is cuddling on the couch, I'll be a very happy man." 

The smile on his face speaks to the truth of the statement, and you can't help smiling right back at him. 

"I appreciate you saying that." You think for a moment before continuing, trying to put into words the true source of your angst. "I just... get hesitant about opening up, I guess. Some guys before have promised me the world until they got what they wanted and then..." 

You trail off, not feeling the need or the strength to go into detail about last time, or the time before that.

"Tha's not me." Once more, he squeezes and lets his thumb rub over your skin. "But I don't expect ya to just take my word for it, I'll show ya, as long as it takes." 

His words mean more than you can say, and the fact he intends to back them up means even more. You really hope you can count on him.

"You're so sweet." You sigh, feeling full to the brim with appreciation. 

Johnny seems a little nervous too, frenetic energy making him shuffle in his seat. He seems to be lost in thought for a few moments before he finally speaks up. 

"I'm not looking to rush in and make a mistake maself. The last girl I dated..." He trails off too, his words tinged with dejection as he stares straight ahead. "Let's jus' say it didn't end well, either." 

You nod understandingly, all too familiar with things not ending well. "You don't have to tell me now." 

He shrugs slightly and seems like he's refusing to meet your eye any longer. "Don't want tae ruin the mood." 

"It's hard to ruin it, Johnny. We're meant to be spending time together, getting to know each other." You offer your most reassuring smile, hoping he catches it out of the corner of his eyes. "I have my fair share of sob stories to unload on you, don't worry." 

Although, that's another source of worry, that Johnny will run for the hills once he learns of your baggage.

"I don't doubt it." His lips fall into a frown, before being schooled into a half-hearted smile. "Hopefully we can replace them all with good stories instead." 

You silently nod, hoping for the same. 

"Speaking of good memories, I was thinking we could make pizzas together, I got the dough and some toppings." Johnny mentions, and the notion fills you with joy. 

"Sounds like fun!" You gasp, a pressing thought flickering into your mind. "What kind of pizza toppings do you like? I feel like this is make or break." 

Johnny seems to think for a moment, his tongue poking into his cheek. "Hmm... What are the most controversial choices?" He asks, a shit-eating grin breaking out on his face. 

"Hmm, pineapple?" You pose a controversial yet not particularly gross topping first, to gauge Johnny's taste. 

"Aye, don't mind it." 

"Anchovies?" 

He shrugs. "Why not?"

"... Olives?" 

Now he turns, perplexed. "Who doesn't like olives?" 

"A lot of people! They're horrible." You whine.

"The black ones aren't so bad, ya big baby." Johnny looks as he turns in time to watch you frown, his voice turning so condescending. "Aww, poutin' like one too. What did I tell ya about poutin' in front of me?" 

"That you'd kiss me, nibble on me even." You squeak.

You watch as everything about him changes—his eyes grow stormy and lidded, his lips curl into a satisfied smirk and his voice drops dangerously low. "As soon as we get back, those lips o' yours are mine." 

"... Yes Johnny." Your reply comes automatically, an instinct that you know will be capitalised on.

"Sound so sweet when ya say my name like that." He smiles brightly, genuinely pleased.

"Wait til you're fucking it out of me." 

"That won't be the name I want to hear from that pretty little mouth, bonnie girl." 

Shit. 

You shiver all over, squirming in your seat. "Yes sir." 

"Fuuuuck." Johnny groans, squeezing your thigh extra tight for good measure. "We should set some ground rules for the weekend." 

He suddenly sounds quite serious, though you suppose it's a good thing. Boundaries are needed, especially if you're to keep things sensible and consensual.

"Yeah, sounds good." You nod, falling quiet to allow him to lead the way. 

"I'm not gonna make ya do anything, don't think we're ready for that, but I'd like to tease it, if tha's okay?" You love the way he sounds measured and yet hopeful. 

"More than okay, though I'm sure you love to tease." You giggle, filled with a little nervous energy. Johnny already teases you so much, if he steps up his game any more you might straight up melt into a puddle. 

"Who doesn't? What did ya say about everyone needing to be a brat?" He jokes, winking—all charm. "But aye, think we need a long talk first before anything proper." 

"I look forward to it, though." You admit. Despite detailing a lot of your interests and limits in your initial post, it's good that Johnny is adamant about revisiting them properly. Still, you're excited to get to a point where you both feel comfortable truly exploring your dynamic. "So... can I call you sir?" 

Johnny falls quiet for a moment. "If it comes naturally to yer. Feel like it's something I should earn." 

"You're already doing it, you make it easier to trust you with everything that you do." Like insisting the name is something earned, you think. 

"I'm glad tae hear that." He nods, the smile on his face only slight, as he weighs his responsibility. 

"I do have some questions, though." You begin, somewhat hesitantly, but you suppose it's good to lay your cards on the table completely. A part of you can't live with uncertainty—needs to know Johnny's true intentions. 

He eyes you for a moment, before nodding. "Go on." 

"So, say you had complete control over things going forward, what would you want to happen? What do you... want for our relationship?" You take a moment to breathe after spilling all of that. 

Despite his focus on driving, you can see the cogs in Johnny's head turning as he mulls over your question.

"I want ya to be mine, in every sense of the word. My girl, my pet, my love. Everything, and I want tae be the same to you." 

It's fortunate that you're stopped at a red light, so Johnny is free to look upon you, the meaning deep in his gaze stills you completely. 

The light turns green, stealing his attention back, yet he continues to elaborate—a fond smile on his face. 

"I'll always protect ya and look after ya, and you'll love me and care for me the way a good girl does." 

"I'll get ya a pretty little collar, and a day one too, so no one ever forgets who you belong to."

It's amazing to you how Johnny can make your heart thump and cunt throb all in one sentence, in one look. 

"We'll get you a cage, a nice training routine, and we'll fuck like animals." 

His hand returns to your thigh, just as respectful as it has been all the drive thus far. 

"And when we're not fucking each other's brains out, we're cuddling on the couch, going on dates, spending time with friends. All tha' normal couple stuff." He finishes up with a happy sigh, a far-off look in his eyes as he turns his attention back to you. 

"What about you?" 

After everything Johnny just said, an expression far beyond what you expected, you find it hard to verbalise anything at all, and certainly not something as wonderfully smooth and tempting. 

You open and close your mouth a few times before finally getting your words out.

"Pretty much exactly the same." You cringe internally at how lame and lacklustre your words sound in response. "I'd like the dynamic to extend beyond the bedroom if we can manage it. For me, there isn't really an off switch."

You can only assume Johnny sees eye-to-eye with you on that, considering he replied to your post in the first place. 

"Seems to come naturally with us, I like tha'." 

"Me too." 

Johnny removes his grasp from your thigh, opting to lace his fingers through the hand of yours sitting in your lap. "I'm glad we're on the same page, bonnie." 

You squeeze his hand, relishing the way he instantly squeezes back reassuringly. Despite being connected in this way, you find it hard to look at him as you stumble through a self-conscious admission. "I was a little worried it was gonna be just sex." 

"Already well beyond that, pet," Johnny replies in an instant, before chuckling and squeezing your hand again. "Dinnae go all shy on me now." 

"Why? I'm sure you enjoy seeing me blush and squirm." You mumble, trying to hide your blushing cheeks. 

Johnny hums, amused and content. "Good job tha' I know all the best ways to make it happen then." 

You hide your face in your other hand, cupping your burning cheek and disgusting your shy smile. "It's only gonna get worse for me too, I know it." 

"Promise to use my powers for good, lass." 

You meet Johnny's gaze again, and feel a deep joy and contentedness flowing through every part of you.

"You better." 

You drive through quiet, suburban streets on the outskirts of Hereford, rows of houses passing by until Johnny turns into a street—fairly empty, and neither upscale nor impoverished. On the end sits a house, since converted into two seemingly distinct flats.

"Here we are." He comments, pulling a car to a stop and turning off the engine. Johnny leaves the car first, eager to open the door for you once more. 

"Ooh, are you upstairs or downstairs?" You ask, looking at the flats and the surroundings. 

"Upstairs," Johnny replies, grabbing your bag again. "Landlady lives downstairs, sweet woman." 

Your mind is flooded with a little old lady, lonely and completely adoring when it comes to her young renter.  "I'm sure you have her completely charmed." You giggle, imagining the effect Johnny has on older women. 

"Oh aye." He laughs too, a knowing glint in his eye as he leads you up the stairs, unlocking the door. "Keeps trying to set me up with her daughter." 

"Is that so?" 

"Mhmm." 

As the door opens, the smell hits you—clean and fresh with an undertone of something masculine. The entryway is narrow and crowded with jackets and boots of all kinds. 

"I better tell her you're off limits." You joke, as Johnny steps aside to allow you in.

He doesn't reply, simply taking ahold of you and pinning you to the door, slamming it closed behind you. His firm hands pin you by the hips, pressing you between him and the door in an instant. 

"Johnny!" You gasp, breath stolen from you as Johnny is suddenly in your space—so close and hot and heavy. 

He leans in, one of his hands from your hips drifting up your body, trailing up your breast and your neck, before stopping at your jaw. His large hand cups your face, thumb swiping across the plush of your lips, parting them slightly for him—he's entirely transfixed, eyes filled with arousal as they flicker between your lips and your eyes.

Closing the final few inches, his lips brush against yours, and you can practically taste the mint in his breath. 

He dives in, kissing you fervently, pulling you flush against him as he practically devours your mouth with his lips and tongue. His teeth worry at your lip, his tongue collides with yours, and his hand at your waist grips you intently as a throaty groan leaves him. "Told you, pet, this mouth is mine now." taglist: @cooliofango @ramadiiiisme @pterodactyal @simonrillleyyysss @hexqueensupreme @ivymarquis @oilfics @ghosts-cyphera @msdrpreist @collmemabi @ysljoon @kmi-02 @mockerycrow @nakedcrackers @cassiecasluciluce @xcup1d @cloudsovercoffee @lovewithasideoflust @abbiesxox @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @bubuslutty want to be tagged? click here! want to be untagged? dm me or comment, i won't be offended <;3

#john soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish x reader #soap x reader #soap mactavish #john mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #call of duty x reader #call of duty fanfiction #soap mw2 #call of duty fanfic #soap cod #collars and cages #keeping up the over 5k chapter length woooo

[kazutora-kurokawa]

Hi there! Could I please request some hcs with Tenjiku? Where reader has like this yk2 grunge/alt OR the goth style of clothing if ykwim? And, because of this style reader has, they draw a lot of attention to themselves and because they are pretty too ofc, hehe😈

It's like the exact opposite to the hyper feminine, pink coquette style!reader you did recently on another hcs. I hope you understood what I meant because english is not my first language... 🤧🫶🫶

Tenjiku x Y2K Grunge!Reader

♡ SFW, suggestive, fem reader, fluff, jealousy, flirting, reader gets hit on a lot, reader attracts attention ♡

note: thanks for requesting anon and don't worry I understood ya perfectly 🩷

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Izana

🎴 Gets you a pair of earrings that match his, he needs everyone to know you're together

🎴 Super possessive over you and will absolutely roundhouse kick the shit out of someone if they flirt with you

🎴 Does your makeup for you, probably steals your boots too because they make him look taller

Kakucho

🩷 A fan of all of your outfits, thinks your style is very chill and fits you well

🩷 Especially loves when you wear baggy clothes because he thinks you're prettiest when you're comfy

🩷 Won't threaten anybody if they look at you, but definitely gives them a polite warning look (he deadass gives them death stares but he swears he didn't)

Ran

💜 Always threatening people in public for looking at you (he can't blame them though because he be looking too)

💜 Makes jokes about bondage when he sees you decked out in more than one belt

💜 Matches jewelry with you and really wants to get matching tattoos

Rindou

🩵 Doesn't understand why you drown yourself in accessories but he can't deny it's cute

🩵 Loves when you wear skirts, especially denim ones with intricate stitching

🩵 Gives people side eyes when they look at you, he knows you're beautiful but he also knows that they see his damn arm around your waist

Mucho

🔷 Loves when you wear oversized t-shirts, it reminds him of how cute and tiny you are, he'll even offer up his own shirts for you to wear

🔷 Won't hesitate to rock someone in their jaw for looking at you for too long

🔷 Buys you a bunch of jewelry and chains for you to hook on your pants, he got you dripped tf out for real

Mochi

🍡 Obsessed with the fishnets that you wear, whether it be stockings or a shirt, he's here for it

🍡 Puts people in headlocks for hitting on you and only lets go when you tell him to

🍡 Loves how you look in a crop top, he thinks your tummy looks cute (he pinches you nonstop too)

Shion

🖤 Y'all are that one hot grunge couple honestly, he's in love with the way you dress and wants to match constantly

🖤 Makes you walk ahead of him when you're out so you don't see him beating the shit out of somebody for looking at you

🖤 He especially loves the big boots you wear, just a normal amount though he totally doesn't want you to step on him or anything weird like that

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Taglist

@arlerts-angel @i-literally-cant-with-this @trevengersprincess @giugiette @katkusuo @happy-trenchcoated-impala @drunkcheesecake @darkstarlight82 @reiners-milkbiddies

#tokyo revengers fluff #tokyo revengers headcanons #tokyo revengers x reader #izana x reader #kakucho x reader #ran x reader #rindou x reader #mochi x reader #mucho x reader #shion x reader #unrelated but every time I think of pants chains I think of Nagito from Danganronpa lol 😭

[unfortunatebrainfarts]

Cussing out anyone and everyone is fun until you get lasso'd out of bed to do it on behalf of your casual space cowboy co-worker who for some reason knows where you live

Boothill x f!reader

A/n: soort of part 2 to my previous work but can be read seperately‼️

"For the last time — let me go before I literally unscrew your dick off."

"Psh, as if ya got the balls for that lil' missy."

You don't even have to look at Boothill to know he was immensely enjoying himself right now — hell you couldn't even if you wanted to since you were currently getting dragged through the ice cold floors of wherever the hell you were, with a fucking lasso firmly binding your legs and arms.

"It's like 5 a.m. in the morning, what the hell could you even want at this god forsaken hour?!" You righteously grumble, but alas, you were met with nothing more than silence probably because you've asked similar questions before. Yes. This has happened before. Many times before.

For Boothill, tracking down enemies and pinning them down was great. Not being able to curse them out and instead calling them a 'cutie' and blessing their soul? Not so great. But that's where you come in! His lovely fellow galaxy ranger who's been with him long enough to know what he wants to say, and is far too weak(compared to this baby shark looking freak of a cyborg) to refute him. Physically that is — you always make sure that you complain his ear off to at least ensure some sort of mental damage.

"Hey! If you're going to take me somewhere could you at least not drag me all the way there? Ugh these floors are so cold I feel like I'm gonna get hypothermia. If I do and I sue you, don't you have to pay me compensation for that? I'm expecting at least a million credits or so cause I don't think Lan provides health insurance for the galaxy rangers—"

Your pitiable monologue was abrubtly cut short by Boothill firmly gripping the rope which binded you and roughly jerking it upwards so that your body would fall limp directly on his shoulder like a giant worm, your head just centimeters away from his.

Of course to which you responded with automatic aggressive squirming and wiggling only making you look more and more like a worm. But honestly who could blame you? I mean, who just DOES THAT and expects the other party to be calmly subdued?!

"Oh sugar honey iced tea, could ya quit strugglin' for just one moment—" A large, metalic hand was promptly placed around your waist and no amount of wiggling could even get it to so much as budge. "Now that y'r off the darn floor ain'it 'bout time ya shut yer trap? Heh... we're almost there."

Now that you were head to head with Boothill, although not in the most favorable position, you could see his face now — his face with probably the most shit eating grin you have ever seen on it. His sharp teeth making themselves apparent, and unwavering eyes focused on just whatever lied ahead.

And then his feet stood still.

"THERE," he shouted unrestraintedly like a madman, while pointing his free hand at... a random lady in purple?

Without warning, Boothill launched himself forward stopping only inches away from the woman who looked just as confused as you.

"Now, go tell 'er that she's a wonderful ray of sunshine that deserves absoloutely nothin' but the best. Oh Acheron, bless your soul ya lovely imposter, be prepared to go on a playdate and have some teatime with me soon! Until then, you should keep yourself safe."

The sheer passion that Boothill had in his tone made it clear that he had a message to get across. Though you don't think the other woman, or supposedly Acheron, understood a word he said. You exasperatedly sigh, you felt just as bad for this lady as you did for you yourself.

"Well?! What'cha waitin' for," the arm around you tightened just enough for a squeak to involuntarily come out of you and you knew you weren't getting out of this.

You mentally apologise for this poor lady before translating his thoughts into words, "Er... what he means to say is uhm, 'you're a disgusting piece of shit who deserves to die seven times over by my hand. Oh Acheron, you absoloute dumbass fucking imposter, be prepared to meet me and face me off in a showdown soon, but you might as well just kill yourself before that."

"...," Acheron's face remained unchanging and blank throughout the whole spiel, Boothill's however, was characteristicly smug and maniacal.

To others, the three of you looked as if you were frozen in time for at least a minute or so, until Acheron simply tilted her head and monotonously responded,

"Sorry, who are you?"

#I wrote this in like 30 minutes pls help #li actually writes🤯 #boothill x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x reader

[mitch-the-silly]

Hi! I'd love anything Husk related. My heart bleeds for this guy ♡

Drunk Husk confessions

Husk has a nightmare about lover and comfort

Husk can't find his crush after the extermination

His crush falls asleep on him during movie night with everyone

Any or all of them. Whatever you have time for. Thank you! ♡>.<♡

Hiiiii!! I cannot begin to express how much I love Husk, man. He's my favorite character in Hazbin (it's actually a tie between him and Vox bc Vox is so baby girl, but I digress). I'll gladly write for him any day!!!

I decided to do Scenarios about three of these (I sorta combined two of them because I liked the idea of Husk getting protective over his lover; you'll see o^o) because I just CANNOT get enough of this silly cat old man <3!!

Also, hope you don't mind I made this gender-neutral since no gender was specified! HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

Warnings (just in case): Nightmares, emotional manipulation, buildings burning down, implied harm to a loved one, Alastor being a bit of an asshole.

Husk x gn!Reader

Scenarios!

Scenario 1: Drunk Confessions

It was very late, and you presumed that the hotel's bar was closed, but fuck it. You figured that sitting on the stool wouldn’t hurt. You couldn’t quite sleep but could anyone blame you? It’s not like they’d kick you back into your room. So you descended the stairs in hopes that the hotel lobby would be more inviting and lacking in boredom, unlike your current room. Now this boredom was not to be mistaken for a dislike for the room itself. 

You made your way towards the bar area. Since the entire lobby was very dimly lit, you couldn’t see much, but only when you heard a noise from behind the bar, did you proceed with caution. The clanking of bottles alerted you but the moment you saw those white claws and that pair of red wings, you let your guard down. With a slight smile, you approached the bar, a chuckle escaping your lips.

Emerging from behind the counter, Husk stumbled a bit, clearly drunk out of his mind. Admittably, it was quite adorable to you. The dazed look he gave you. 

He squinted and hicked, suddenly realizing who he was looking at. “Fuck, don’t… ya scare me like that…” He slurred as he leaned on the countertop. 

“You’re fucking fried aren’t ya?” You chuckled at him.

Husk gazed at you, then looked down at his hands. Feeling himself get a bit dizzy, he let out a drunken laugh. “Y-yeah~” He spoke with a stupid little smirk. 

You couldn’t take him seriously when he was drunk. But you culdn’t help but stay here with him. “So, what’s on your mind, Husk?” You asked him. You know, just for funsies.

“Honestly…” He slurred, pausing for about three seconds, “Right now… I was just thinkin’ right now... that there’s a cute person in front of me… and that I wanted to buy them a drink… but then… then I thought… ‘Fuck… I can’t buy ‘em a drink… I’m the mother funkin’ bartenda’!’ It fucking… it fucking pissed me off.” He dunkenly complained. His eyes looking up at you since you sat atop the stool and he didn’t. His pupils were extremely dilated and his gaze seemed like one of absolute adoration. But it could also be how drunk he was.

The mere implication of his complement made you blush, but you tried to keep your composure, “Why aren’t you bold?~” You chuckled at him. “If you weren’t so cute, I would be able to resist those Kitty eyes.~” 

He pouted at your comment, “You’re a damn angel…” He slurred, after which he let out a stupid little giggle to himself.

“Oh, you’re the one witht he wings, baby~” You chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

He froze in place, his face red as a beet. His pupils dilated again and he involuntarily let out a purr at it. Reaction which (even while intoxicated) he hated. He drunkenly hit his chest as if scolding his body for reacting that way. ‘Stupid fucking… cat body…” He muttered, maintaining his slur.

You giggled at this; it was sure going to be a hell of a story to recount to him tomorrow.

Scenario 2: Husk has a nightmare about his lover + Comfort

It began with darkness. Of course, it did. Last he remembered was closing his eyes in some way. He was bound to be alright, he figured. But boy was he mistaken.

He was finally able to open his eyes. Before him, a fire had broken out. But it wasn’t just any arbitrary fire, the Hotel was on fire. It didn’t quite register in his mind just yet, but the building was violently burning down. Everyone around him was in a panic and he moved with them. But not by mandate of his body. It was as if he didn’t have control of himself. Just then, he snapped into consciousness, he began to think properly. He couldn’t find them. Where were they? His lover… He stopped at the hotel’s main entrance and instead of running out like everyone else did, he turned around immediately.

Running back inside, he called out their name at the top of his lungs. The smoke was engulfing him. And just as he was about to give up and assume you’d made your way to safety, he heard their cry for help. Not wasting a second, he ran from where he could hear it: the second floor. They were probably stuck up there. He had to save them. He just did.

He used his wings, flying up and landing on the very few unharmed spots of the blazing carpet. He called their name out again, he couldn’t find them and every second that passed in which he did not lay eyes on them, he grew more and more anxious. Finally, upon receiving a response to his frantic cries, he found you.

Before him not only was not only the love of his life but the person he held rancor for the most… Alastor. The Radio Demon held you in his grasp, dangling you over the fire. Laughing maniacly as he stared right into Husk’s eyes. With his most intimidating voice, the overlord spoke to him. “You should know much better than to defy me, Husker.~ You wouldn’t want your little darling to suffer the consequences of your transgressions, now would you?” He taunted. “You let go of them! My soul’s the one that’s yours, not theirs. You ain’t got no right to harm her!” Husk exclaimed.

Alastor laughed as if he’d heard a joke. It was obvious he didn’t take Husk’s words seriously. “You’re quite mistaken, my friend~. I can do as I please!” He responded.

The hotel burned brighter, and before Husk could say anything else, Alastor threw them into the fire. Husk tried to jump in to save them. But his body didn’t move. As much as he tried to move it, he wasn't in control of himself anymore.

Alastor cackled, “You belong to me, I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you the way things are!” He grasped at the air. Husk’s chains manifesting around his neck. They cut the airflow, and he clawed at the shackle on him. Desperately trying to breathe. He closed his eyes, still attempting to break himself free.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the ceiling of his room. He panted as he calmed down, feeling a gentle hand beside him. He turned to his side, his lover beside him. The second he realized they were safe and sound, he knew what he’d just witnessed was a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare.

“Husk, are you ok? Were you having a nightmare?” They asked him, reaching to caress his face. Without a second thought, Husk placed his face in their hand. The comfort of their touch significantly calmed him.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it… But… I’m glad you’re safe.” Husk muttered, reaching to plant a chaste kiss on their forehead.

His lover smiled, “Of course I’m safe. And hey, you don’t have to tell me anything… Just know I’m here for you, ok?” They mumbled, kissing his cheek in reciprocation.

“I… can I hold you…?” Husk asked, his voice a bit shaky. As if it was the only thing that would make him feel better.

“Of course…” They chuckled, a gentle smile on their face. Husk drew them closer to him. Holding them in his arms. There, right there was the one place he knew they’d be safe.

Scenario 3: Husk's crush falls asleep on his shoulder during movie night

If there was an activity everyone at the hotel loved to participate in was “Friday Night Movie Night”. Of course, it was something that had taken Charlie some time to establish, since she took a long time to filter out the movies she deemed went against the hotel’s goal, but alas, she made it happen. 

So today was Friday, 7 pm hit and everyone knew exactly where to gather. The lobby was crowded (by the five employees and two guests) with souls waiting to relax after a week’s worth of work toward redemption. Angel set up a blanket, and in his pajamas, he lay down in front of the old TV (a spot he was willing to fight someone over). He held Fat Nuggets (a baby hell hog Angel loved like a child of his own) in his slim arms as he waited for the movie. It wasn’t his turn to pick the movie, so he didn’t care much what they watched. Nifty was often times very easily distracted, but she was willing to sit for a movie for sure (or at least half of one). Sir Pentious on the other hand, always sat through them, marveling at the videography of each film. As for Charlie and Vaggie, well, they always cuddled next to each other while they watched the movie. Most of the time it ended with Charlie falling asleep on Vaggie’s shoulder, or in the opposite scenario, with Vaggie lightly snoring on Charlie’s shoulder. As for old Alastor, well… let’s say he was more fond of other mediums of entertainment and chose not to join them. But there was one sinner who would always watch from the foot of the lobby’s couch: Husk. He’d normally end up falling asleep during movie night, but he had nowhere better to be, so he simply attended them without issue. 

However, on this particular Friday, they had a newcomer. A new guest who despite having about three weeks in the hotel, hadn’t attended a movie night. They swore it was never out of disinterest. Forgetfulness was truly a curse they had. So today, they’d asked Angel to remind them that it was movie night, and Angel sure kept his word. So there they were, trying to decide where to sit as everyone waited for Charlie to pick a movie. 

They looked around. The simplest option would be to sit with Angel, but… what if they didn’t? Charlie had encouraged them to socialize more with the employees and guests, and they liked to believe that they spoke to everyone quite well. But even they had to admit that it wasn’t quite true. There was one sinner in particular that they didn’t talk to as much as they hoped and it was Husk. So, the obvious decision was to sit next to him. And it was exactly as they did.

As they chose the spot next to him, setting up their blanket and pillow, Husk turned to them. Almost a bit surprised anyone would choose to sit by him.

“Hi Husk, ya mind if I sit here?” They asked.

“Not at all, go ahead.” He responded casually. He couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. Unable to contain the soft spot he had for them. 

“I found one! What about The Sound of Music?” Charlie exclaimed, immediately getting a groan from Angel Dust. But he didn’t care enough to elaborate on his complaint.

“I think that’s a great option, sweetie.” Vaggie reassured, smiling at her in agreement.

And without another thought, Charlie inserted the VCR into the VCR player (anything newer and Alastor would freak and destroy it himself), turning off the lights and immediately running back to sit next to Vaggie. 

Y/n sat comfortably, their eyes glistening in the TV’s dim light. Husk couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous sight for a second. But alas, the movie progressed. The musical numbers already too bearable due to Charlie’s daily song outbursts. 

About mid-way through the movie, however, was when Y/n started getting a bit tired. They scoot a bit closer to Husk, their eyes tempting to give in to the exhaustion. Until finally, their eyes closed and they leaned gently on Husk’s shoulder. His cheeks flushed red as he looked around to see if anyone was witnessing this. Upon seeing no one noticing this, he took their blanket and covered them gently. He’d rather not wake them up, they looked so entrancingly precious this way. So he continued watching the movie, smiling at the soft sound of your gentle breathing. He could stay like this forever. He definitely wouldn’t change this for anything in the world.

Eventually, he himself felt as if he was going to give in to his own tiredness and ended up losing the battle against himself. Husk closed his eyes and leaned his head on yours. Slumbering away, your breathing lulling him to sleep.

Needless to say, the second Charlie saw this, she ran to get the camera. She had pictures of it and she would never even dream of getting rid of them. To her, a moment of peace like this was proof that the hotel was definitely working.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin angel dust #hazbin vaggie #hazbin charlie #husk x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin hotel husk #husker #husker hazbin hotel #hazbin husker #husker x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin niffty #hazbin alastor #alastor #niffty #fat nuggets #fat nuggets is so cute #husk fluff #hazbin hotel fandom #hazbin hotel fluff #nifty hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel a

[evilminji]

My WIP fairy hates me. But like... in that homoerotic Nemesis sorta way, I swear.

Cease an desist, woman! (I scream into the void, knowing damn well she, being my own brain, SHAN'T.)

Cause NOW? Now I CAN NOT stop Pondering, with a Capitol P, the life of a Sentient Quirk. The trials and tribulations. The indignities and sufferings. Countless micro-aggression and out right dismissal of sentience. The reduction to the EXTENSION of another.

You are not a person.

You are JUST a Quirk.

An organ that "thinks" itself separate, in the way knees spasm when struck just so. The child you are attached to just needs to get better CONTROL of you. Your words and actions are actually THEIRS. You are simultaneously an unruly animal and strange adult, not allowed near other peoples children.

Why are you trying to follow this four year old into their school? Why are you SITTING out side a pre-school? Are you stalking that child?

You are a grown adult. Connected to a random Japanese child.

The child is expected to "control" you.

Punished if they do not.

No one is listen to EITHER of you, as you try to explain the situation. The child is upset, scared, and does not have the emotional maturity to understand why you are not to blame. All they can understand is that you appeared and everything became stressful and "bad". They started getting punished. Have to share their room now.

Do you even have rights? If you get hurt, get MAIMED, what will happen to you? Can you hold a job? Own land? Open a bank account? Fuck it! Can you have a RELATIONSHIP?

If you went out RIGHT NOW and punched a purse thief, would the FOUR YEAR OLD be arrested?

If the kid grows up, becomes a hero, and you do secretarial work... does his license cover you? If YOU wanted to become a Hero, would he be your hero partner? Could he technically sit in a corner and let you work?

If no one could TELL, over an internet connection, then surely that should prove SOMETHING? Right?

And! The question NO ONE ever seems to ask!

Could..... could you LEAVE? Do people have the right to force you back? If you don't WANT to be some kid's Quirk? You're sentient. If, unlike Dark Shadow, you are not PHYSICALLY connected, but tethered by distance?

Could. You. Leave?

Just "Allright, I'm out. The way you're all treating me is unacceptable. See ya never." And walk out the door? You'd be able to gain distance as the kid grew older. As long as you hid? You be homeless, without papers, but free.

A sentient Quirk means free will. Means you don't HAVE to do shit. It's like being born with a twin, not a slave. And that Twin does NOT have to put up with your bullshit. YOU are the one asking THEM to work with you, after all.

This? Of course, ALSO just ABSOLUTELY BEGS the question? What if that four year old grew up to be a BASTARD? Just... NO self reflection or empathy. Everything is everyone else's fault, always. And they want a NEW Quirk. One that won't question them.

So they sell theirs, buy a new one. Probably die off screen trying to throw it around.

What happens to you THEN? Pain, obviously. Like... massive, massive amounts of pain. You ARE a Quirk. You're being ripped out by your metaphorical roots. By the NERVE ENDINGS. But? Do you... for lack of a better word, "reset"?

Are you back infront of "your" person? Or do you stay, safely, where you are? Both would be fascinating, honestly. Because I imagine All for One? Does NOT get sentient quirks often. If at all.

They'd sooner kill themselves.

After all, if your choice is "kill yourself and your beloved twin" or "be ripped apart and watch them die horribly, then be used to go against everything you both stood for"? You weep and promise to make it fast.

Then you make it fast.

It's... really annoying, I'd imagine, for All for One. It's not necessarily that he WANTS a sentient Quirk. But they are INTERESTING. And he likes interesting.

He also likes owning things that can't leave. Ever.

So of course he'll poke and prod at the Quirk. It will inevitably be a nightmare, either way. Because EVERY Sentient Quirk has some degree of communication aspect to it. Just because the original holder never figured it out, doesn't mean HE can't.

And while your range may now be much, MUCH bigger? Because the fucker is strong as hell? How useful is that... if he can talk to you when ever HE feels like it? Day or night. 24/7.

And that's assuming you don't reset. God help you if you reset. Because THEN your STANDING infront of, most likely, pre-face-smash All for One. Who's looking at you like he just won a Mildly Interesting Prize and you would PREFER HE NOT. But what are you gonna do?

Walk out again?

You think THAT'S an option here?!

I mean... you can and do TRY. But, obviously not. So like? Fuck ™.

THEN the question becomes? Would YOU go to Tarturaus. Are you a hostage? Or an accomplice? You have the same level of power and authority as a cat, deliberately knocking pages of tables and cups to the floor, but... like? Oooooh~ oh yeah! THATS gonna slow him down! His empire crumbles beneath the sheer MIGHT of your petty inconveniences!

*trips the doctor again*

Fffffuck you.

#bnha #bnha ponderings #minji's writing #minji's ponderings #bnha oc #sentient quirks #all for one #prompt i guess? #bnha prompt

[ambling-rambling]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

C/W: honestly not much. Angst. Drunk reader. Softest of fluff

I started out intending to write drunk sex but ya sad bish needed something soft instead so have the first time Bucky Barnes hears I love you and the way it wrecks him.

Don't Leave Me

The two of you didn't actually fight that often, surprising as that was to some people. You supposed you couldn't blame them, what with the ex-Winter Soldier's perpetual frown and surly demeanor.

You knew better, though. He held people at arms length for a million different reasons, each as valid as the next, but the truth was, his core was all marshmallow fluff, soft and squishy.

In the six months that you'd been an official couple, you could count on one hand the number of times you'd so much as bickered. But this? This was different. A genuine fight, where you couldn't agree and neither was willing to compromise.

It was bad enough, his being gone on missions all the time, worrying about whether he'd come home at all, and what state he'd be in when he did. And now he was talking about some sabbatical back to Europe, trying to chase down memories and make some amends clear on the other side of the planet, indefinitely.

And it sure sounded like he didn't want you to come. Sure, his excuse had been that he didn't want to drag you away from your life, make you uproot everything. Part of you knew he didn't feel worthy of that kind of devotion, that he couldn't truly comprehend that he was your everything now.

But if still felt an awful lot like a rejection, and that stung.

Maybe that was why you'd gotten so drunk, just trying to ease the tightness in your chest, drown the ache in your soul with the burn of alcohol. It would have been bad enough on its own, but the fact that it was your first legitimate fight just made it that much worse.

So you'd gotten a little carried away, and Jaeger sure as shit did have a way of creeping up on you. You'd stumbled your way into the ladies' where you now sagged against a sink, though you'd forgotten to turn the water on.

"Honey, are you alright?" a voice startled you, and you spun, or tried to. You barely managed to keep yourself upright by clinging to the edge of the sink.

"Uhhhh..." Were you? Alright? What did that even mean? You weren't dying, but you felt like you were shattering into a million pieces. Surely that was just the alcohol talking, making everything extra dramatic. "No? " It came out a question, and the woman tutted softly. She was probably a little older than you, beautiful, and you found yourself half lost in the liquid brown of her eyes, hooded in deep gold eyeshadow, and the dreadlocks that framed her face.

"Can I call someone for you, honey?" she asked.

Call someone? Shit what a great idea! "Uhhh, my boyfriend," you said with a nod. "Er, well," you hedged, as the memories came flooding back in. "I think. We hadda fight." The words were slurred, and your new friend's eyes were sympathetic.

"Are you safe with him?"

Even drunk, you immediately understood the implications of what she was asking. "YES." Your response was so emphatic that she laughed a little. "We never fight like this," you said, pouting now, staring down at the toe of your tennis shoe. "Ever," you added, uncertain why you felt the need to add so much emphasis.

"Well, honey, why don't I call him for you? If he's got any brains in his head, he's probably missin' you just as much as you're missin' him."

You nodded, because Bucky definitely had brains, he was so smart, and beautiful and you just wanted to be with him always. Why did he have to make everything so fucking difficult?

Without really making a conscious decision, you unlocked your phone, open to your text conversation with Bucky. You hadn't even realized you had a slew of texts from him. It ran a course from appeasing,

I'm sorry, I just don't know what to tell you...

to irritated ,

Really? You're blowing me off?

to worried,

Okay well I deserve it. We don't have to talk but can you just answer so I know you're okay?

Y/n. Please. I'm really getting worried. I just wanna know you're alright.

You felt a little bad. You hadn't been blowing him off intentionally, you just hadn't been paying attention to your phone.

Your friend, god you really needed to ask her name, hit the dial button. Muffled through the speaker, you could nonetheless hear Bucky answer before the second ring, practically shouting your name.

"Sorry, my name's Meredith, but I've got y/n right here. She's fine, just pretty drunk. You should probably come pick her up."

There wasn't any hesitation in his promise to be there in a few minutes.

Meredith handed your phone back to you, and you tucked it away in your pocket, feeling a little guilty. You tried to stand up straight, annoyed with the way the world tilted and swayed under your feet.

"Easy there, honey. Let's go get you some water before your fella gets here."

You nod, because that seemed like a good idea. You clung to Meredith's arm as the two of you wound through the bar and the bartender handed you a glass of water. You sipped it carefully, uncertain if even that would settle. You had definitely never been this drunk before, and now that it was setting in you felt a little childish and stupid.

You heard your name and half turned. The sight of Bucky there, beautiful as ever in that leather jacket and his gloves, made you want to weep, and you sniffled.

"I was worried about you, doll," Bucky said gently, brushing one leather-clad thumb along your cheek bone.

You wanted to be mad at him, but the genuine concern in those blue eyes and the way he was hanging back, not pushing you, just made you want to fall into him.

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, not looking at him. "I wasn't tryna make y'worry." The words came out slurred and you felt petulant and nauseous and why was everything such a mess?

"You good now?" Meredith asked, drawing your gaze. You nodded. "Yeah, I'm okay," you said.

"Thank you," Bucky said softly, extending a hand to Meredith. "Genuinely. I'm glad she found you and not..." he trailed off with a helpless shrug, and it wasn't a leap to know he'd been thinking about all the creeps out there who'd love to take advantage of a drunk and vulnerable woman.

"Nothin' to thank me for. Us girls gotta stick together," Meredith said with a grin. She gave your hand a little squeeze, and then disappeared into the crowd.

Bucky sighed, turning to look at you again, ducking his head to try and catch your eye. "C'mon doll, you still so mad you can't even look at me?" he asked, with a little note of frustration creeping into his tone.

You shook your head. "Not that. I just feel...Dumb." Suddenly you were crying and you couldn't even really articulate why. Bucky looked panicked, jerking the glove off his right hand to cradle your face, applying pressure to encourage you to look up without forcing you.

"What? Why? You're not dumb, y/n..." Bucky looked perplexed, worried still as you sniffled again, scrubbing at your leaking eyes.

"You still w-want me right?" The words came out slurred and choked, and you were suddenly clinging to him, clutching at his biceps. The world was unsteady under you and you just wanted to be in bed, wrapped up with him, safe and wanted.

Bucky looked genuinely shocked. "What...y/n, of course I do. You're all I want. Why would you think otherwise?"

He was so confused you almost laughed. It was so obvious to you.

"But you d-don't want me to come to Europe with you," you pointed out, your voice a drunken whine.

"I don't...y/n, I don't want to go without you," you could see he was struggling to articulate himself, the way words so often came as a fight, caught up in his head. "I just don't feel like I can ask you to walk away from your life..."

"You're not asking! I'm offering!" you interrupted, your voice a little too high, a little too loud, even to your own ears.

Bucky looked... Inexplicably sad. He stepped a little closer, so his body was pressed to yours, bare hand cradling your cheek. "I ain't worth it, doll. And I don't want you to be an ocean away from home and not another friend in sight when you figure that out." .

You felt like you were choking. Oh, or maybe that was just the alcohol in your stomach revolting. Bucky must have read the expression on your face, because he wrapped an arm around your waist, mostly carrying you toward the door. "C'mon, let's get outside," he said.

The cold air hit you like an Arctic front, had goosebumps prickling all over your skin and a shiver running up your spine. But it served to still the boiling mess in your stomach. You knew you were drunk, that he'd probably convince himself it was just the alcohol, but you had to try.

"Please baby," you whined, clutching at him. "I don't wanna be here without you. I just wanna be with you , always. You are worth it to me." Your voice cracked when you begged "don't leave me here."

"I'm not leaving you anywhere, doll. Let's go home," he murmured. You nodded, slumping into Bucky's arms, content to let him carry you to the car.

You didn't even remember getting home, just waking up in bed, a little panicked, launching yourself toward the bathroom, your stomach revolting against the ill treatment of the night before. Bucky was there within moments, sweeping your hair back out of your face, palm smoothing down your back.

You slumped to the floor when your stomach finally settled, cool tile heavenly against your heated skin. "I'm sorry," you mumbled.

"For what?" Bucky asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Getting so trashed that you had to come get me. Being so extra and now...this," your lip curled in distaste as you waved a hand at the porcelain throne.

Bucky 's lips quirked in that ghost of a smile that was his most common expression of pleasure or amusement. "That's nothin' to apologize for, doll," he said dismissively.

"Shower with me?" you asked, and Bucky nodded, starting the water before helping you to your feet. You shucked out of your clothes and ducked into the shower with a low groan of relief, only too eager to wash the night off your skin. Bucky followed you in, and his hands skimmed tenderly across your body, helping you rinse off, his nose nuzzled into the crook of your neck.

You lingered like that, for too long, really. It would have been easy, so easy, to just stay like that, pretend nothing had happened, but you couldn't.

"Bucky?" you whispered, voice rough and more than a little hesitant.

"Yeah, doll?" he asked, without lifting his head, voice muffled against your skin.

"I...I meant what I said last night. I know I was drunk, but it was still the truth. I don't... I don't wanna be here without you. I don't care where you're going, if it's anywhere even sort of long term, I wanna go. I'll go anywhere Buck, just .. please don't leave me here. Don't go without me."

He drew back, cradling your face, his expression a study in internal wars, looking both miserable and infatuated. "I just don't want you bored over there, by yourself..."

"I wouldn't be by myself," you interrupted. "I'd be with you and that's all I want."

You could practically see that self deprecating smile even before it painted his lips. "That's not all you want, doll," Bucky argued, and you felt yourself huff out an irritated breath. "You have a job that you really love and friends you love going out with, not to mention the cat..."

You sighed. "All those things will be here whenever you've done what you need to. Or I'll meet new people and make new friends. People do it all the time, Buck. Mallory would take Alpine for a while if I asked her."

Whatever argument he was about to pop off with now, you silenced it, pressing a finger to his lips. "Stop telling me what I want or don't want, Buck. I just want you. I love you."

You watched the emotions play across his face like he was a projection onto a movie screen. Incomprehension, and then disbelief, giving way to awe, and then something so, so soft it had his eyes welling up with tears.

He was searching your face, as if trying to sniff out a lie, and then abruptly, his gaze jerked down, swallowing hard. You'd been together a while, slept together, built routines that were comfortable, that he adored, but neither of you had ever broached the "l" word and he hadn't let himself believe you were building something like a life together, something lasting and permanent.

"Really?" he asked weakly.

His surprise broke you. All this time, it had been clear to you, that this was something permanent, that you were building patterns you wanted to live the rest of your life in, a comfortable place to rest and be at home. Meanwhile, he'd been holding himself apart, waiting for his fantasy to end.

"Oh, Bucky," you whispered, felt yourself choking up against your will. "Yeah, I love you , so much, baby. I'm sorry I didn't say it sooner, that I ever made you wonder. I love you, Bucky Barnes, completely and irrevocably."

The arms he wrapped around you were all encompassing, squeezing you tight, with a hint of trembling. "I love you too, doll. So much." His voice was rough with emotion as he clung to you, and you clung right back, arms wrapped tight around his waist, lost in the touch so long that the water started to run cold. You whined as you hurried to wash your hair before it turned to ice and then crawled out.

Wrapped in a towel, you pressed yourself in against Bucky's side. "Does this mean you'll take me to Europe?"

Bucky almost snorted as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders. "Let's be real, I wouldn't have lasted a week without you anyways."

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #winter soldier #winter soldier fanfiction #winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x y/n #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fanfiction

[stellamancer]

this is all @shotorus's fault.

You don't mean to stare, really, you don't.

Especially when you are well, well aware that it's what Gojo wants. You know better than anyone that if there's anything that he enjoys it is the knowledge that your eyes, your attention, your focus is on him. He covets it, revels in it, luxuriates in it like it is his god-given right.

But it's not.

And you have every intent of reminding him of that fact.

Which is why you don't mean to stare and, honestly, you don't even know how it happened; one second, you were looking over your phone, and the next your eyes were glued to his backside, watching— staring as he removed his shirt.

For three seconds, your gaze is filled with the view of the expanse of the smooth skin that makes up his backside. He's more muscular than you thought, and why wouldn't he be? You know as well the next person that he's a skilled martial artist so it makes sense— but there's a difference between knowing and seeing. Gojo is always wearing loose fitting shirts and oversized jackets and with a technique that can destroy a curse without even lifting a finger, it's easy, so, so easy to just think he's just lankly limbs and flat body underneath all those clothes. The t-shirt he's pulling off shows just a peek of his toned biceps and somehow the room suddenly feels a few degrees hotter.

"Like what you see?"

Gojo's playful and amused voice yanks you back to reality, your blood feeling like it's on fire at the sound. You rip your gaze from him and to make sure that your eyes, which feel like they may have a mind of their own, don't try to sneak another few eyefuls of the image of his body, you turn your head away from him.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, trying to play it off.

He chuckles. "Caught ya staring, didn't I?"

"I wasn't staring," you lie, though if there is anything else you know about Gojo, it's that he loves only hearing what he wants to hear.

"You were so staring," he says. "Not that I can really blame you..."

Gojo laughs as you make a disgusted sound. "Why are you even changing in the teacher's lounge anyway? Don't you have your own personal office?"

"I don't see the problem here... we're both adults, aren't we?" he counters, completely and totally avoiding your question. You don't really need him to answer actually; you know the truth is that he just wanted you to look, to stare at him and damn him and damn you too because you both know he got exactly what he wanted.

"Do you have any sense of shame?" you ask, scowling.

You hear the sound of rustling fabric— Gojo putting on another shirt, mingling with the sound of Gojo snickering, entertained as he always seems to be whenever he's with you. "That requires having something to be ashamed of, you know."

You roll your eyes. "You have plenty to be ashamed of."

"Oh? Like what?"

"Your absolutely terrible and insufferable personality."

Gojo is silent. He can't argue with you on that one and you both know it. You think maybe you might have one-upped him this time, but then he laughs. "Sure, but you weren't staring at my personality, now were you?"

Now you're the speechless one, the desire to knock some sense into Gojo taking the place of any verbal response.

He must be done getting dressed because you hear him move, circling around you and forcing himself into your field of vision. Gojo’s changed into a different shirt, a dress shirt, with the top unbutton left undone, cursing you with an eyeful of his collarbone. The blindfold is gone too, those hauntingly blue eyes of him out in full force. You have no doubt that this fucker is doing this all on purpose. He grins at you, looking offensively smug, victorious even.

"...and good thing I can't,” you finally retort, feeling vicious at the sight of him, “because even a peek of that and I think I'd go permanently blind."

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #infinite loop!verse

[stevesbipanic]

Steve couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Eddie and Robin had come over the previous night to watch corny Christmas movies, Robin had left before they went to sleep since her family was driving out to visit her grandparents in the morning. He and Eddie had crashed in Steve's bed, something that was becoming a regular occurrence and not helping Steve's overwhelming feelings towards the metalhead.

They had had no plans for the next day so of course they'd slept in and of course they'd woken up tangled together and of course they didn't talk about it. Steve had made them breakfast and Eddie made them coffee and it was all sickeningly domestic and exactly what Steve craved. Eddie eventually had to leave though which lead them to now.

"Ahhh, Stevie, slight problem."

"What is it?" Steve said as he trailed out from the kitchen to Eddie in the foyer.

"Fuck."

"Fuck."

Eddie had opened the door to a wall of snow.

"We're snowed in, shit."

"Fuck, um well maybe I can just go out the upstairs window?"

The boys went upstairs and looked out.

"Noooo, my van's totally snowed in too shit."

"Plus I honestly don't like the thought of you jumping from my second story, Eds."

"Fair point, guess you're stuck with me for a bit."

Neither boy minded having to spend longer together. They watched more movies and smoked and listened to Steve's music which thankfully Eddie had started supplying with "good music". The boys worked together to make themselves something warm for dinner, Steve had been teaching Eddie to cook since the spaghetti-o's incident.

"I still stand by canned foods, Stevie."

"And I stand by living to thirty, Eds."

They were now smoking Eddie's last joint on Steve's bed, talking about dumb shit when it happened.

"Hey, at least we still have power right?"

As if on queue the lights went out.

"Fuck."

"Fuck."

Steve checked the circuit breaker to no avail.

"Well Dustin took my last flashlight for 'science' so we'll have to do with candles."

"Trying to seduce me with this romantic atmosphere, sweetheart?"

Steve hoped Eddie either didn't see his blush or blamed it on the cold. And cold it was, they had gathered up all the blankets they could find around the house and cocooned themselves on Steve's bed.

"Ya know this is kind of fun, Stevie."

"Yeah? You like freezing yourself?"

"Well no, but I like freezing with you."

Steve couldn't help the warm blush that spread through him.

"I like freezing with you too, Eds."

"I think I know a way we could warm up," Eddie said smiling softly.

"Oh yeah? How you got a secret heater in your pocket?"

Eddie laughed shaking his head and leaning in, before Steve knew what was happening, Eddie was kissing him. Steve smiled into the kiss, pushing back against Eddie. Eventually they pulled apart, slightly breathless.

"You know what? I do feel warmer."

"Well I've got plenty more ways to warm up."

"Is that a candle in you pants or are you just happy to see me?"

Steve had never felt warmer than hearing Eddie's laugh.

#i don't care its November the Christmas thoughts have invaded #stranger things #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #st4 #eddie munson #steddie #fluff #ficlet #snowed in #steddie ficlet