#clothes I put on like it’s genuinely scary

[gwyoi]

I feel like social media stole my whimsy . How can I dance and sing karaoke in public if I know it can be recorded and then I get ridiculed for being fat and ugly online 😭 it’s easy to say “who cares about what other people think” but when people dogpile and harass you on personal semi private accounts and every move you make is being watched of course you’re gonna care

[kendricksendrick]

if this goofy little lets be a little bit more than best friends thing goes south who do I sue?

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or are there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.

[luveline]

I’m obsessed with the sister!hotch and Reid fics. I can’t stop imagining that scene where Rossi goes to Garcia’s house and she’s fresh from the shower with Kevin. But instead is Hotch at readers house and Spencer is there.

—you and Spencer are in the midst of a long weekend together when your brother shows up unannounced. fem, 1.3k

“You’re really handsome.” 

Spencer laughs as you drag your hands back over his ears and through his sopping wet hair. The shower water is blissfully warm and soaking your front as it rains down on his head. You shield his eyes but otherwise have your fun. His hair is softer than anything you’ve ever felt. 

He holds your hands flat to his head. “You’re handsomer.” 

“Am I supposed to take that in a good way or a bad way?” you ask. 

“A good way!” he says, forgetting your hands in favour of guiding you under the water. “Handsome has nearly always been used for men more than women, but it didn’t fall out of fashion for girls until the fifties.” He tilts your head upward and to one side as his own begins to fall the other way. “You’re beautiful.” His voice is warm on your lips, “you’re so–”

His kiss is ridiculous; he kisses like he’s starving. You didn’t realise men could actually kiss like this until you met him. It’s not just in the movies, it’s right now, his hand at the back of your neck, unbothered by your laughing or your hand slipping down his wet t-shirt. 

“This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever done,” you say. 

“We were covered in mud.” 

“We should’ve just got naked.” 

“We’re taking things slow,” he says, laughing, “it’s fun. But what are we gonna do about our wet clothes?”

“You got the most of the mud on you,” you say. Spencer had performed a valiant rescue in that when you fell, he was straight down into the grass after you in an attempt to save your jeans. It didn’t work, obviously, but the thought was there, and he’s such a good kisser in the shower that you don’t mind the loss. “I’m gonna get out and get changed, you can have a real shower, okay? I’ll get you a towel and your pyjamas and stuff.” 

“You sure?” 

“Yeah, it’s fine. I think all the mud from my top half is gone.” 

Spencer takes your face into his hand. His thumb rubs a line along your jaw. “Now it’s gone.” 

You beam. Who knew Dr. Spencer Reid was such a tender guy? You could sort of guess from looking at him that he’d touch you like that, but it’s a contrast, too, to be kissed as though you’re some irresistible siren and to have your face held like fragile glass. 

You step out of the shower still sodden, clothes heavy, and close the frosted door between you and Spencer to strip down. Separated but still shy, you hurry out of your clothes and into a towel, wrapping yourself tightly to head into your bedroom. 

You put on blissfully dry underwear and blot your face. Next is loose pyjama pants and a big t-shirt: you’ve never worried about being sexy for Spencer and you’re not about to start. Your first date was a walk in the park, your second date at the bowling alley. He’s not concerned with that stuff. It’s why his frankness about wanting to take things slow isn’t scary, because when he holds your face and tells you you’re pretty, you believe it. 

“Y/N?” 

You flinch so hard your neck cracks. “Ow,” you whine. 

“What’s wrong?” 

You walk forward before Aaron can let himself into your bedroom. Sure enough, your older brother is in your apartment (as he’s allowed, given that he furnished the entire place and paid the security deposit, and, also, awfully, is a very nice big brother). He’s smiling, carrying two pizza boxes and a carton atop it that smells like French fries. “What have you done now?” he asks fondly. 

“I hurt my neck, you scared me.” 

“If you answered your phone, you’d know I was here.” 

“I was in the shower!” 

“I can see that. You’re getting slovenly, it’s almost midday.” 

You’re so genuinely happy to see him that you forget for a moment your predicament. “It’s the weekend, I can do what I want.” You’re gonna have to let him down, which won’t be easy. “I’m not feeling the best, actually.” 

Aaron lets the pizza boxes rest against his stomach. “How come?” 

“I don’t know, I just feel tired. Maybe we can do something tomorrow.” 

“Honey,” Aaron says, with all the cadence of someone who’s used to rubbing your back when you’re sick, “what’s wrong? Let’s go sit down, I can make you something less greasy.” 

“I think you should just go home, actually. I might be contagious.” 

He looks less concerned and more gutted. “What? I don’t care if you’re contagious. When has that stuff ever bothered me?” Aaron takes another step toward you, his gaze flitting past you toward your bathroom. “What’s really going on?” 

The age gap between you and Aaron is expansive. Your being adopted is another gap, and neither have ever bothered him. The moment you showed up in his life he gave you everything he could manage, which has manifested in long phone calls, in hugs, in homemade soup and delivery when he couldn’t be there. Asking him not to look after you is like telling him you don’t want him to, and it isn’t true. 

He means a lot more to you than whatever awkwardness your confession will inspire. 

“Aaron,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. “Spencer’s in the shower.” 

He squeezes his pizza boxes. “Sorry?” 

“We went to the park and I fell by the lake. He’s in the shower.” 

“But you were just in the shower,” Aaron says. 

“Well, we weren’t in there at the same time,” you drag. 

Your lie is obvious to him, not just as a profiler but as your brother. His brow pinches and his nose wrinkles, not disgusted with you or anything so cruelly stupid, but dissatisfied, at least. “Did you have to tell me that?” he asks, pained.

“I didn’t tell you that, you profiled that, and it’s sort of not what you think anyways! We didn’t do anything–”

“Honey.” 

“I’m really sorry, but it’s not what you think.” 

“Listen to me.” The shower turns off and Aaron’s cheek twitches. “You are a grown up. You can do what you like with who you like. It’s my fault for coming here unannounced, I keep thinking of you as younger than you are.” Says the adult. Then, the more friendly part of being a sibling emerges, “Could you send him home?” he whispers. “I got your favourite.” 

You laugh at his proposition. “That’s kinda rude, isn’t it? Can’t he stay? He’s cool.” 

“I’m having trouble coalescing the two of you as more than acquaintances in my mind,” he says, as though he has much more to say about it, even if he’s smiling. 

Spencer chooses that moment to walk from the en-suite bathroom and out of your room, a t-shirt stuck to his chest with damp, his own pyjama pants baggy at the ankles.

“Hey, are you okay?” Spencer grabs your hand impulsively, twining his fingers in yours. Then he sees Aaron and does a double take. “Hotch?”

You give Aaron a sorry smile. “Does that make it easier?” 

“I’ll wait in the kitchen.” 

You and Spencer watch Aaron retreat. His hand stays in yours, but he squeezes you too tightly. “Wait for what?” Spencer whispers fervently. 

You lean up on tiptoes to kiss his eyebrow. “You’re about to get the shovel talk, I think.” 

“Oh. Great.” He drops his forehead against your shoulder, wet hair dripping a path down your shirt. “This is really bad.” 

“He brought pizza.” 

“I don’t think that’s going to help me.” 

You crane your head and kiss-kiss-kiss the top of his ear. “You’re really pretty when your hair is wet.” 

Spencer murmurs to you reluctantly. “You’re really pretty all the time.” 

[angelbarelywrites]

♡ slashers scenarios | first meeting

info;

♡ fandoms; The Boy, House of Wax, Halloween, Hannibal, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, slashers (general), DBD

♡ characters; Brahms Heelshire, Vincent Sinclair, Micheal Myers, Hannibal Lecter, Thomas Hewitt

♡ reader; gender neutral

♡ cw; mentions of blood/violence

The most random array of characters. All 5 are my bfs tho. Also this is written very very informally because it was originally just for myself lol.

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

Brahms Heelshire//

> approximateplotofthe movie. jpeg

> honestly you mind your own business once you realize it’s a doll but assume there’s cameras so mostly behave

> you find yourself naturally coddling his doll like a real child when you’re bored, speaking to him constantly

> even though you’re not doing much to upset him, weird things do start happening around the house

> he mostly wants attention

> you leave a note one day

> “dear brahm’s ghost; i’m sorry if i’m not doing a good job as a nanny. i’m really trying my best. I hope we can be friends”

> he scribbles a smiley face on it and you’re a little freaked out / excited

> when he finally shows himself you’re really stunned. but it makes more sense than a genuine ghost

> you’re in such shock that you just. keep going with the evening and make dinner.

> but even once you come to your senses, you end up more sad than scared

> “…they left you all alone. I’m so sorry.”

> he gives you puppy eyes

> “…I won’t do that to you. I promise. I’m staying.”

> he’s even more in love with you than he first thought. even if you’re going to make him shower six times before bed.

> to his chagrin you don’t help him bathe

> but you do kiss him goodnight

Vincent Sinclair//

> bo brings you to him

> at first he’s making some big deal, “special delivery” and all that

> you’re cute

> really cute

> and bo clearly knew you’re the kind of person vincent would like

> but he’s still got a job to do

> damn it

> “h-hey- wait- i can help you—?”

> that makes him hesitate

> “i’m an artist too. i can help with the sculptures. “

> …

>“i’ll be good. promise.”

> he didn’t need much more convincing than that

> bo is surprised he kept you but makes damn sure you’re not escaping

> but you don’t even try because you just feel so deeply for vincent, and he’s so gentle

> you weren’t lying about being an artist so you’re genuinely helpful

> he falls madly in love when you help him resculpt his mask

Micheal Myers //

> Meet because you wrote letters to him

> Not to interview him or as an obsessive fan

> At first out of curiosity, then as a sort of way to vent, because he never responds

> But as it turns out your letters are the only ones he keeps or even opens at this point

> So his psychologist wants you to meet him to see if you can get him to open up- of course there’s a cash incentive

> He doesn’t say a word from the other side of the glass.

> Obviously.

> But you treat it like a normal visit to a friend and just chat mindlessly a while

> And you’re so much tinier and cuter in person

> He wants to stab you so much

> But realizes that if he killed you, he might miss you

> Ew that’s a scary thought

> Still wants to make you scream tho uwu

> He escapes

> Because he’s Micheal Myers that’s what he does

> After his spree he finds himself in your house, bloodsoaked and honestly not all that sure what he’ll do when he sees you

> You don’t even scream, just give a tiny ‘eep’

> “…Micheal?”

> He regrips his knife so he can get it over with. You’ll just tattle

> “Oh gosh- you’re soaked from the rain. And all that blood-let’s get you a shower? I can get you some fresh clothes too,”

> He’s staring down at you in disbelief

> “…what? You thought I’d try and call the cops? I like talking to you.”

> There’s something very wrong with you

> It’s kind of hot

> He puts him knife away and follows you

Hannibal Lecter//

> you’re his patient lol

> at first he doesn’t have much interest in you outside of work

> but god, you’d be such a perfect subject to manipulate with that little authority figure problem you have

> and even though you’re young

> you do recognize some of the finer things in life

> mostly his artwork and cooking. you’re really good at inadvertently stroking his ego

> he starts diving into darker subjects in therapy

> you’re a bit of a morbid person under the sunshine-y exterior

> perfect

> he’s still chipping away at something big you’re keeping from him

> he could do some digging online and through your files but where’s the fun in that

> he gets you tipsy and then starts with the psycho babble

> you finally crack

> you killed some guy that was stalking you years ago

> god that’s hot

> you liked it, at least a little bit

> even hotter

> you licked the blood off your hands and it tasted good

> he’s in love ; good luck leaving

Thomas Hewitt //

> car trouble! it’s always car trouble

> honestly when you rock up to the gas station alone Luda Mae is thinking that it’s a shame the fridge at home is already full

> but you’re the sweetest little customer

> “your name is really pretty ma’am. ever since i was little i decided if i had a daughter, her name would be Audrey Mae”

> new plan, she’s playing matchmaker

> there’s just something about you that’s so gentle

> and mildly off-putting, like the rest of the family

> she brings you out to the farm to see if they have the car parts you need

> and to stay the night, if you really need to

> you run smack dab into Thomas in his old half mask walking in- even Luda expects you to recoil at the least

> instead you turn a bit pink

> “oh gosh- I’m so so sorry sir-“

> Thomas stares at you

> You just shyly introduce yourself, talking enough for both of you

> Luda Mae is already planning the wedding

> “That’s my youngest Tommy- why don’t you show em around? Alright baby?”

> Thomas is a bit hesitant but you’re so little and cute and smell so good—

> He’s already obsessed oops

[lucabyte]

Finally: The NoHats AU doodles. Plus some sprite edits.

Usually I'd let things speak for themselves and keep my chattering in the tags, but I'll ramble about my context thoughts...

So. First of all here's a link (x) to the Nohats Origin Post for those coming in and going ????.

Anyway. These doodles are not in any obvious chronological order, though Loop going from pilfered bandolier (my headcanon for how Siffrin has all those pockets) -> custom outfit made by Isabeau, is supposed to generally denote 'just after the ending' -> 'a few months down the line'.

And speaking of, Design & Characterisation notes:

Overall: NoHats is suppooooosed to have the range to not just be ULTIMATE MISERY ALL THE TIME (but if you're a major whump/angst fan. go fucking nuts.) so these are supposed to be. The steps toward overcoming and living with grief but. The Misery Is Kind Of The Punchiest Part.... Oops....

Mirabelle: Taking the lead, continuing to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. In the game proper she's already shown to, while yes, be emotionally fragile at times, be prone to trying to hold the team together. I feel she'd do the same here. It also would help that she'd presumably be medicated again? But I can't imagine her chosen-one anxieities would be super ailed by the death of her friend. I wanted to try and give her more differences? She follows the change belief after all and is thus liable to switch up her style in general... But I didn't have a strong vision for this, so. The ball is in anyone's court. Her design changes here are keeping one of Sif's safety pins a la qpr bonding earring, and has the bell pendant at Loop's (oddly pushy) suggestion.

Isabeau: Taking it. Badly. Depression mullet and beard in tow. However, you best believe he is trying real badly to hide it. Loop very much does not reveal their identity to him because What The Fuck Would That Even Do. That's Scary. but they do try to comfort him while mentally regarding him "off limits". Backs themselves into some very unfortunate corners by alluding to their unfulfilled relationship with their Fighter as a point of common ground. I don't imagine this would go super great when recontextualised later after Loop is inevitably found out. Just in general oh good god what the fuck. this is like a radioactive pit of survivor's guilt.

Bonnie: Taking it probably The Worst. This is a child. Who was already feeling guilt. This is who everyone else is trying to keep it together for. Mirabelle and Isabeau would likely be putting up far less of a front without Bonnie around. They take the hat and take on Pocket Duty. They also have slightly more sif-y hairstyle but... Don't worry about it. They'd have Nille to fall back on once she's picked back up, and Loop almost certainly attempts to redouble efforts on making them feel better but seeing as how closed-off Bonnie can already be, it'd likely be difficult. However they would probably take Loop's identity reveal best...?

Odile: Odile's design.... ! Does not seem to have changed? How odd! Well. I'm sure she's dealing with things in a regular and non-cloistered manner. I already think that a regular Postcanon Activity for Odile could be her finding out about the potential for sif/loop to translate books and thus Knowledge in their native tongue assuming that ability sticks around postgame. Something something culture can never truly be wiped out etc etc. But putting it in this context. Makes it more desperate, more of a deflection for something else.

Loop: Helpful Loop. Well. They win! I feel like the entirety of ISAT being about Siffrin's mental state means I don't need to spill much ink here? You get it I think. I can't outdo the source material man. Anyway I imagine Loop is given clothes by Isabeau before they know who they are, but after they've become genuine friends. The outfit is in genuineness, on both sides from Loop and Isa, in having the cloak be a nod in respect to Siffrin, since Loop's "shared culture" would have to come up vis a vis cultural funerary traditions. Hard to avoid divulging that one...

[deadsnakey]

𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 —> 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎˚ᡴꪫ

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ fluff ೀ Headcanons. . .ᐟ 10k words 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ┈─★

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

જ⁀➴ He has a lot of issues and anger, but he tries his best to control it around you.

જ⁀➴ has never raised his voice at you because of this.

જ⁀➴ I think he's all scary and intimidating, but once you get to know him, like know him, he's genuinely sweet and a decent person.

જ⁀➴ loves being around you, he feels comfortable enough to be himself around you and that's a privilege.

જ⁀➴ loves physical touch, knowing you're still with him is reassuring and grounding for him.

જ⁀➴ spoils the actual shit out of you dude, your complaints will be shushed with a soft kiss and soft eyes, "I love you, let me spoil you, okay?"

જ⁀➴ a bad boy on the streets a gentleman in the sheets.

જ⁀➴ his friends definitely remind him how gone and whipped he is for you on a weekly and he doesn't deny it, he knows and is fine with it.

જ⁀➴ if yes ever making you uncomfortable or doing sum you don't like, he stops immediately and never does/says it again. He'd hate for you to be uncomfortable let alone from him.

જ⁀➴ loves showing you off and will shamelessly do it, because you're a goddess why wouldn't he??

જ⁀➴ I think he's still learning the rights and wrongs while dating you so just put his ass in line and he'll immediately straighten up and act right.

જ⁀➴ he's your bitch, you're his girl.

જ⁀➴ he'll let you boss him around as long as youre happy but God forbid someone else tries to boss him around and they gone (to the hospital wing..lol)

જ⁀➴ will happily watch you get ready even if it's just to go on a walk or to grab a few snacks n stuff from the store or wtvr, will gladly help with wtvr if you ask him too.

જ⁀➴ teased you a lot especially if you get flustered easily butttt knows when to stop and to not take it too far.

જ⁀➴ also he tries only doing it in private or if it's just you two somewhere bc he doesn't want someone else thinking they can also tease you, friends or not.

જ⁀➴ hatesss the thought of losing you, definitely has nightmares and needs to either be held by you or hold you, it just depends how bad it is.

જ⁀➴ feeds you so much, he ain't letting his girl go hungry ever, not on his watch. He'll happily give you his food if you're still hungry or felt like you didn't eat enough.

જ⁀➴ ass man.

જ⁀➴ his and your friends are so nauseous whenever they see you two together because y'all are so sickening In love it's gross. (Don't get fooled they think it's cute.)

જ⁀➴ so soft and clingy in the mornings omfg, dude is pouty, a little whiny and his raspy voice telling you not to leave while holding you closer👁️🫦👁️

જ⁀➴ will be so quick with it if he feels like someone is disrespecting you or being rude to you even a little bit and don't get me started on flirting with you, you need to control your guard dog please!!! He will bite his dick off and leave him bloody and bruised for weeks.

જ⁀➴ true story, you scolded him and made sure he wasn't getting into as many fights after or at least not to the point of last time, but he listens to you because he would hate for you to be disappointed or not happy and especially with him.

જ⁀➴ I don't think Mattheo can live with himself knowing he's the reason you're angry, upset, sad, disappointed or literally anything that is happy or a good emotion.

જ⁀➴ opens doors, gives you his clothes, let's you borrow wtvr you need from him, buys you anything you want, gives you your favorite flowers every date night, give you massages, run you nice and relaxing baths, helps with studies, always with you especially in public.

જ⁀➴ no cause actually ever since y'all started dating you haven't been seen with mattheo with you, either behind you, either side of your or like 2-4 inches behind you watching over you carefully. Like he's a great protector!!

જ⁀➴ my boy working overtime to make sure you're safe and he wouldn't have it any other way tbh.

[starkwlkr]

Imagine a Hugh Jackman x reader where one of their kids gets a nightmare and wants the wolverine to scare the monsters away? Reader walking into the scene of Hugh in a children’s wolverine costume trying to cheer them up?? Have a great day and take care of yourself :D

the monsters gone and your daddys’s here | hugh jackman

an: thanks anon for the request! this was such a cute idea 🥹

marvel actress!reader masterlist

Alex was a heavy sleeper so when his younger brother, Reese, whispered his name, the boy continued snoring. Reese had trouble sleeping, but he never told his parents. Why? He thought the scary monster under his bed would get them if Reese told them.

Even with his stuffed animals and blanket, Reese still couldn’t sleep. He then remembered that his dad had bought them walkie talkies for christmas. Hugh kept one on his nightstand. The boys usually called in if they wanted a bedtime story or just to say I love you. Right now more than ever, Reese needed his dad to scare away the monsters.

He grabbed the device from his nightstand and turned it on. He pressed the button and called for Hugh.

“Dad? Can you hear me?” Reese released the button hoping Hugh would immediately reply.

On the other end, Hugh heard it. It took a few tries from Reese to finally get him to wake up, but eventually he did. You were sleeping with Olivia beside you, he didn’t want either of you to wake up so he quickly answered it.

“Hey, what’s wrong buddy?” He asked.

“I can’t sleep.” He responded nervously.

“Why?”

It took a few seconds, but Reese finally decided to tell Hugh what was wrong. “There’s scary monsters and I’m scared. What if they get you and mom! And what if they get Alex and Olivia!?”

Hugh’s heart shattered after hearing his boy. He wondered for how long the scary monsters had been bothering Reese. “They’re not going to get any of you, I will always protect you.”

“Can you scare them away? With your claws?”

Ever since the boys watched X-Men, they were convinced Hugh had metal claws that came out his knuckles. He didn’t have the heart to tell them it was fake so he bought a cheap wolverine costume from the store and used the claws when they were around.

“I’ll be there in a second.” He assured the boy. Reese mumbled an ‘okay’ into the walkie talkie then ended the conversation. Hugh got up from the bed, making sure not to disturb you or Olivia. He got the plastic claws and wolverine mask from the drawer and put them on. He then walked to the boys’ room and opened the door.

“Where are those ugly little monsters, bub?” Hugh asked, getting into character.

Reese, without saying a word, pointed to under his bed. He watched as Hugh adjusted the mask and got down to his knees. “I’ll get rid of those monsters. They won’t stand a chance.” He went down and started ‘fighting’ the monsters. In reality, only toys and dirty clothes were under the boy’s bed. Hugh made fighting sounds so to Reese it genuinely seemed like he was getting rid of monsters.

“Oh this guy is done for! Get out of here!” Hugh continued.

“Did you get all of them, dad?” Reese, too scared to look, asked.

“All of what?” Both Reese and Hugh heard your voice. You stood at the door rubbing your tired eyes. What was going on? You wished you knew.

“Dad is getting rid of all the monsters!” Reese told you.

“Aaaaaand that’s all of them,” Hugh got up from the floor and took off his mask. He started breathing heavily and wiped away his ‘sweat’. “You got nothing to worry about, Reese. Dad took care of all the scary monsters.” He gave Reese a kiss on the forehead.

“Thanks dad.” Reese whispered. He looked over at Alex, who was still sleeping. How could Alex be asleep while the wolverine just scared away all the monsters? At least Reese had a good story to tell at breakfast.

“You alright, baby?” You asked Reese.

The boy nodded. “Dad scared them away. I can sleep now.”

“I’ll see you in the morning.” Hugh whispered to Reese then walked over to you. He mumbled a good night to Reese and closed the door.

“I am dreading the day we have to tell them Wolverine is just a comic book character.” You sighed.

“Let’s just enjoy this moment. Yesterday, Alex told me I was his favorite hero.” Hugh walked back with you to the bedroom.

“Wolverine or not, you’ll always be their hero. They know you’ll always be there to protect them.”

Hugh didn’t care if he had to fight imaginary monsters, he would always protect his kids. He just hoped they wouldn’t get too upset when they find out he doesn’t have metal claws.

@kellyxo1 @ru-kru @barnes70stark @flyestvenustrap @evasmlp

[stuck-writing-sickos]

In Poor Taste [P4]

[Series Link]

(Yandere × F! Reader)

[Warning: misogyny, explicit language, violence, harrassment, bodily harm]

(A/N: i see some of yall find Lukas so offputting 🎯yall not rocking with him? Why❤️What for✨️ is it his personality 💕is he vile and disgusting 🥹? do u hate him💋? Do u wanna beat his ass 🫶? )

You were never crazy about spoiled rich men. They were nothing but troubles.

He didn't expect to see a familiar face in the tight, dim, sweaty corner of Tokyo. He regretted going to this silly punk rock concert in the first place, but he did say this morning that he would go to one so he could talk to you about it. Mostly he was set on going because he wanted to try out something new, something to talk about - his peers wouldn't set foot near this underground coffee. It was unfortunate that he had no genuine interest in the music - it was loud and complicated. Unpredictable. The guitar might sound cool, but there wasn't a groove to which he could chill and bob his head or trip balls on mushroom while making out with a stranger. No trippy backdrops here - just the dim, anxiety-inducing colored stage light.

So he was there at a standing table way back, watching the crowd dance and scream. He found it strange - the hair, the makeup, the eccentric clothes. The only thing he would safely get behind was the fishnet and leather skirts that some girl really rocked. Sometimes, the girls over at the States would wear that to bars or theme nights. He liked that. He didn't like the way he feel here - half aroused, half judgemental. He would rather the tight sportwears on tanned blond surfers or yoga instructors. The ones who earned nods and hums and vile comments from his frat brothers were he to kiss and tell. Being attracted to them made him feel normal. Accepted. Approved. He wouldn't be caught dead eyeing these women.

But his friends weren't here, so he got to look. Never tell, though. Or if he did, he would say "oh, they dressed crazy", or "their eyeliner were scary", or "their piercings freak me out".

Deciding that it was time for another beer, Lukas begrudgingly went to the bar again. He felt anxious and alone, sticking out like a sore thumb. He earned quite some looks from women, but he couldn't be so sure if they liked what they see or if they could tell he was a poser who only came just to say he did it. He couldn't read their expressions, partly since he was drunk, partly because he was now considering the cultural differences, even if only for a morcel. He was made aware of it most pointedly this morning: the couple faux-pas he made with Sakamoto might have been intentional, but the guy's lack of reaction made him question how big of an insult he had put out there.

Sakamoto made him feel defensive, though Lukas decided not to dwell on it. He wasn't one to feel insecure, especially with guys like that - soft faced and soft-spoken. His big round eyes and sickly skin made him look like a woman, too. At least, Lukas would acknowledge that he was tall. But that was his only saving grace.

He wasn't explicitly aware that he was feeling more territorial over you. It wasn't about you anyway, it was by default. Even in the past, he had done these things - putting down other men to get to women. They were his wingmen, he would justify, they weren't supposed to outshine him. When it was his turn to wingman, he definitely let his brothers dog on him for days. It was common and understandable. If anything, Sakamoto should make ways for him. A girl like you wouldn't suit that guy - he was too uptight and serious. What would two high-strung people do together? You should be with someone who know what a good time is. Also, he saw something Sakamoto didn't - a glimpse of your tattoo. Those family-man wouldn't know how to deal with that. How would he take bring that up to his family? They would freak. Even his sister's "31:25" tattoo freaked his parents out, and they were already the most liberal rich family in his neighborhood.

Yeah, Sakamoto should leave you to him.

Settling in on a barstool, he ordered another beer, then repeat himself when the bartender couldn't quite make out what he was trying to say.

Lukas let his eyes scan the people sitting near him. Only a few, he noticed. It wasn't a crazy crowd to begin with.

After this beer, he'd go home.

As the bartender come back with his bottle, Lukas noticed something he didn't expect. From the crowd, you emerged, making your way toward the bar. He blinked, trying to see if he was mistaken.

No... that was definitely you.

All black from head to toes, you treaded silently like a death omen, your sleek heels clicking. Your short sleeved turtle neck and your tight pants started a heat within his chest. Your face wasn't any different, though - just the usual look. No crazy eyeliner, no bold dark lipstick. Seemed like you did not come here to impress the crowd.

You didn't notice him. Hopping onto a stool at the other end with your back facing him, you ordered something.  You knew Japanese, or just enough to get by. A lot of expats got to that point eventually.

Lukas debated on confronting you about your lies - you said you would be at dinner with a friend. Or maybe he could do that tomorrow.

He didn't peg you for such a casual liar.

Lukas hatched another plan: he could observe you, and see how deep your lies could go. Sipping on his beer, he followed your movement. You adjusted in your chair, still with that calm manner you carried yourself. Then, his eyes rested on your skin left bare by the bold backless top. You looked good, but clueless. Would you know the implications of such a shirt? The way your body moved in it... men would think you were asking for troubles. Bad men. Asshole men who didn't know they were pigs. At least he had the decency to admit that he was a pig, but he was an honest pig who respected women. He was a pig who knew to ask once, then if rejected a couple more time just to make sure, then he would leave it alone. Most pigs wouldn't know to even ask.

You sipped on your pink cocktail. That was cute. Your right now style reminded him of those ravebabes he met during spring break, but you were more subtle and quiet. Your movement were less urgent, and your clothes were less exposing. It was a nice feminine touch.

Your moment of rest didn't seem to last long. A man had chosen to sit down right next to you. This man was lanky, dressed in a very unbuttoned black button-down. He started to chatter, first in Japanese, then in English. Another sleazeball trying to test out his games. Lukas wondered when would be appropriate to interfere.

Your body language made it clear you weren't interested, but not afraid. Immediately covering your drink, you tried to turn your body away. The man seemed not to mind. If anything, his speech seemed more excited, his hands moving around like a stupid puppet. Desperate, Lukas thought, that was not a good look.

Deciding your half-finished drink wasn't safe anymore, you laid it on the bar and stepped down, trying to leave. Upon this, the man caught your wrist, forcing you to turn his way. Lukas' stomach twisted - here it was, the moment where he step it and scare off this asshole.

A loud, off-tune note shred through the music. Lukas looked at the stage. The band played on, but it seemed there was a technical issues with the guitarist.

The momentary distraction cost him his chance to intervene. When he turned his eyes back to you, he was hit with a strange scene - in a swift movement you twisted your arms around the man's and grabbed onto his forearm, forcing it down so hard he stumbled. Your face, now turned sideway during the commotion, was eerily calm when you talked. Lukas heard "Sir... I said no."

The man said something in Japanese, something that sounded bitter. Probably a curse word. Lukas jumped off his seat just as the stranger swung with his free arm to slap you across the face. The bartender seemed to have decided that whatever was going on was enough, and she rushed to you. Before she could, you clenched your idle fist and landed an uppercut so hard the harrasser let out a cartoonish "oof", his limp fingers releasing you as he stumbled backward, hitting right against the bouncer who appeared as if from the shadow.

Something in Lukas awakened in that moment. Your stone cold feature and your bruised knuckle left him slack-jawed. He stepped closer, intending to ask if you were okay. Once again, he was interrupted.

"Sir and ma'am, please explain what happened", the burly bouncer commanded. The pathetic guy excitedly tried to speak, but you only crossed your arms and watched. Your eyes was set on the sad attempt at vidication, but you were patient to let him finish his spiel.

"Is it true that you attacked this gentleman unprovoked, ma'am?"

"I apologize for the commotion, sir", your bowed, hands now hanging right atop your knees. Pulling yourself back up, you continued, "this young man seemed to have taken my rejection poorly, and he had slapped me across my face. I understand that my punch was unseemly, but I did that in an attempt to protect myself. He had gotten ahold of my arms and hit me, so I was fearing for the worst."

The bouncer's scowled, but he decided that he had heard it all. His big hand grabbed onto the stranger's wrist, and together they exited out the backdoor.

The fight definitely grabbed some attention. Lukas stood watching you look around, soaking in the side eyes. Taking in a breath, you dusted yourself off and hopped back onto a barstool. The thick, moist, cigarette-dense air fell heavy in Lukas' lungs. He felt his heart drumming, his body hot from an excitement he couldn't surpress. Something about the way you fought hit him like ecstasy.

He wondered if your punch hurts.

Lost in the unprecedented euphoria, he could only gaze at you as some women came up and asked if you were okay. You reassurred them with a familiar smile, one he had seen you wore at work. Your voice was soft again as you thanked the chirpy crowd for their concerns.

Lukas didn't say anything to you that night. He went home and let the image of you and your victorious knuckle bruises lull him to sleep.

___

"Do you need me to find out who he is?"

Yuki wasn't happy when he asked that. The sight of your bandaged hand and the medical patch on your face stirred his stomach with guilt.

"No, of course not", you shook your head, "I'm fine! Really, it was nothing."

Yuki pursed his lips. The lunch he packed himself suddenly tasted like cardboard.

He tried to make it easier by reminding himself that at least Lukas didn't push to have lunch with you today. In fact, the guy had been stoic for the entire morning. Even though you weren't around, Lukas had somehow been working on his computer silently instead of sprawling on his chair like a slacker. Perhaps you had reminded him about his attitudes at work?

If you did, Yuki was impressed that the newbie knew to listen. He didn't think that kid would be the type to do so.

"Sakamoto, please don't worry. I had fun, and your set was great."

He looked down. He knew he wasn't directly to blame, though the guilt never went away- he was well-acquainted with this sort of harrassment. Right in his childhood home he had witnessed worse. What grated him the most was the silence afterward. The way his mother's frail form would hunch, casting a bent shadow on the shoji, her hands cupping her face. He was too young and small to do anything but stand in the hallway and watch as she eventually moved, mute and rigid. He heard the folds of her clothes creasing against one another and the floorboard barely creaking under her feet.

She couldn't have fought back. She was sickly. When he grew into his middle school uniform, Yuki tried to fight on her behalf but his teenage body bounced off his father's sturdy chest. His father was a merciless man, strong like the grey stone wall surrounding their mansion. Yuki remembered the disappointment in the old man's voice as he lamented "my only son is emotional like a woman, and weak like one, too."

"I see...", he said to you, his voice weary. He didn't know what else to say. He didn't want to bring up the fact that when he saw your tug of war, he let his hand slip across the strings, messing up the song. He had planned to jump off the stage, but his lead singer had tugged on his sleeve and eyed the bouncer who was already coming your way. What was there to tell you? He couldn't say that he had almost done something. Either he did something or he did nothing. In this case, he did nothing. Yuki tried to find solace in the fact that you held your own, but he couldn't. You shouldn't have to, not right in front of a friend.

Another wave of bitterness hit him when he remembered Lukas standing there watching, hesitant to interfere, tall and awkward like an useless telephone pole. Yuki wondered if he should bring Lukas up, but he decides against it. He didn't want you to feel worse - a friend and a junior watching you getting hit, that would not brighten anyone's day. He felt sorry for you to have to deal with two cowards.

Well, if he couldn't feel better, the least he could do was to keep you from feeling worse. He had been of no help with his stupid sad face. After all, this should not be about him. Yuki shamefully put his feelings in the corner as he tried to think of something that would cheer your up.

"Hey, would you like to check out a cat cafe this weekend with me?"

Your eyes lit up.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's right down the street from where I live. I have been meaning to visit, but it would be awkward to go alone."

Yuki already visited. He liked their cakes and tea. Still, he saw no harm in a little white lie to make his invitation seem more natural. He would hate for you to get the idea that he felt obliged to make up for what happened. That would be a transactional spin on what was supposed to be a gesture of friendship.

"That would be so nice! I also was hoping to relax a little lately..."

The knot in his chest unraveled at that.

___

You were intimidated by Lukas' switch-up. Since morning, he was quiet. Upon seeing your bruises, he asked what happened, to which you gave a vague respond about tripping on the sidewalk. No more inappropriate attempts of flirting nor small talks - he appeared to be engrossed in the tasks you handed to him. You found it simultaneously nice and unnerving, so a part of you were glad that you were scheduled to teach until lunch. You were worried that if you were near him for too long, you wouldn't be able to resist asking him what triggered this change.

You thought of asking him to join you and Sakamoto for lunch, remembering the agreement you had made the day prior. Though, by the time you reached the lounge, he was getting ready to leave. "Please don't mind me", he said with an oddly soft smile, "I need to pick up something at the convenient store nearby. I hope you and Mr. Sakamoto have a good meal". His out of character veneered grin hit you like a brick.

By the time afternoon rolled by, Lukas occupied only a corner of your mind. You were mowing through the last days of school, teaching, writing, planning the end of year school festival. When you landed from the whirlwind and came back to the lounge for your last hour, you barely noticed the junior colleague who was still hunched over his laptop. Brushing past him, you got settled. Your tense body completely dropped its guards as you melted in your chair.

Your gaze met with a bottle of cold green tea in your cubicle. From the thin condensation, you figured it hadn't been around for long.

"Afternoon", Lukas' voice echoed from the other side of your corner, "you seemed tired. It's not much, but I hope you feel a little more refreshed drinking that."

"Mr. Lukas... it's so nice of you. I'm embarrassed to not have anything in return."

He didn't move to look at you.

"Don't mind it! You had a long day."

His tone was cool and distant, a long shot from the flirtatiousness you had to suffer so far.

"Really, thank you, Mr. Lukas. I do like this brand a lot, so this definitely made me feel better."

There was a quick pause before he spoke again: "I'm glad."

He moved at last, turning to you. You missed his gaze as you twisted open the cap and took a sip.

"If you don't mind, I would love your opinion on the powerpoints I made so far."

"Of course", you nodded, rolling your chair his way. He arched back, giving you the space to take a look

Your attention was on the mistakes he had made. You had a flaw: you were a perfectionist. Despite your lack of vocal reaction, you knew you could be critical when you saw someone take over your work incorrectly. It comes with expertise. Still, you had trained yourself to manage the uneasiness and maintain an encouraging attitude - something your close friends called "softening the blow".

You often forget, though, that your face could betray you.

"Okay, you did great so far", you said, neglecting to meet his eyes, "but I want to make some notes here. Would you mind?"

"Not at all."

For someone so surprisingly tough, you lacked an eye for details. You didn't see the look on him as he watched your hardening face and bandaged knuckle as if he was starving.

[mythicmanuscripts]

I have read all your Aemond stuff multiple times, I can't get over how well you characterise him!!

You wrote about Aemond's very awkward but oddly sweet reaction to thinking you were ordering him to do something and then from there how he loves to do things for you.

So, I was thinking, there was probably a period between giving Aemond that order and him showing his full subby side and letting you dom him. So, I was wondering if you had thoughts on this? Like the other stuff he does, how he reacts, etc I just thought it could be cute!

I hadn't even considered this but oh my god yes you are so right there would be a period before Aemond starting being properly subby with you where you basically just had the world's scariest personal assistant and every single person in the castle was beyond confused so let's discuss this more cause I love it.

So after the incident of Aemond thinking you wanted him to pour your wine and then you having to get an empty glass just to let him do it and then thank him, what follows is a very confusing two weeks or so.

Aemond knows how LOVED how it felt to pour your wine and be praised for doing so. He just felt so proud? He knows it's such a small thing but seeing that he pleased you just made him feel so warm, made him feel like maybe this marriage can work.

However, the problem with Aemond is that there's no way in all the seven hells that he's actually going to tell you this. That is much too scary and vulnerable and he's so sure you'd think he was utterly pathetic for that.

Though that doesn't stop him from constantly trying to be in situations where you would ask him to do something? He doesn't want to admit it out loud, so he kinda just follows you around and tries to get between you and any objects you might need and runs over whenever he sees you carrying something, just anything he can think of. He also bans the servants from being present at meal times when it's just you and him because he doesn't want to lose an opportunity to pass you something.

(He's pathetic, he knows this and he hates this but he can't stop hunting for that feeling he had when you thanked him)

To Aemond's credit, it does work sometimes. Sometimes you will ask him to get something or pass you something and every single time he just smiles so sweetly.

At first you're genuinely concerned about him because this is absolutely nothing like the Aemond people talked about and the Aemond you met before the wedding. So yeah you're a little confused, but you can tell that for whatever reason, Aemond seems to really enjoy doing those things for you.

Part of you thinks you must be imagining it, because you can't work out why he could possibly want to do those things. So you decide to put this to the test properly.

When the servants bring your washed laundry to your chambers, you tell the to just leave the clothes on your bed and not pack them into your cupboard. The servants are very confused, but they can't exactly force you to let them back away your clothes so they leave them. As they're about to leave, you ask them to please find Aemond and let him know his wife would like to see him in her private chambers.

About 20 minutes later, Aemond arrives. He's in shock that he's even allowed in your private chambers. As with most high class arranged marriages, you and aemond each have your own private chambers and then a room you two share. Aemond didnt think he would ever end up seeing your private chambers and he feels very special that you even let him in.

And then, without explaining anything, you ask Aemond to pack away your clothes into the cupboard. You thought for certain that he would outright refuse that and then things would go back to how they were before.

But to your shock, Aemond actually smiles?? And he immediately starts folding the clothes, taking the utmost care and double and triple checking that all your dresses are hung correctly to prevent wrinkles. While he does this, you just lay on your bed reading, glancing up at Aemond every now and then.

It's such an odd sight, the feared one eyed prince folding laundry and seeming utterly content.

When he finishes, he turns to face you and let you know. When you look up at him, he's looking at you and seeming very nervous.

When you thank him, his shoulders relax a little and then very softly he just asks, "Did I do well?"

You promise him that he did, and then you really go into it, telling him that he did so well and he's helped you so much and you're so privileged to have him as your husband. He's smiling when you finish thanking him, looking so relaxed.

There was something about the way he looked at you then, something so oddly vulnerable, something precious. You're not quite sure why you ask this, but you ask him if he would like to lay with you and you'd read your book out loud for him.

Aemond immediately nods, removing his shoes and sword and then getting onto your bed. He starts off laying opposite you, but his eyes keep on drifting down to your lap so you tell him he can rest his head on your lap if he would like.

He starts to say that he would never ask that of you, but you interrupt him and say, "You've done so well, come lay here with me, you've earned it" and that makes him stop immediately and shuffle forward to get close enough to rest his head on your lap. He hugs your legs, curling around you and closing his eyes as he listens to you read.

You're not quite sure what is even happening, and it's very clear that your new husband has more to him than meets the eye, but he's also clearly not yet willing to explain himself more. But this is okay for now, this is more than okay.

Pretty soon your number of personal servants halves just because Aemond keeps on doing so many things that they are supposed to do.

[amphitriteswife]

Would you love me if i was a worm?

The question made you pause your youtube video. You turned around and looked at Jeagyeon who was staring into your soul with slippers on and his legs crossed on your bed. His eyes held an almost scary type of ‘say yes.’ In them. Where did this question even come from? Was he going trough an insecure episode? ‘First of all, get those dawgs onto the floor. Second of all. No.’ Jaegyeon gasped loudly. He seemed genuinely surprised by your answer. He expected you to actually say yes, maybe even a cute little joke or a wholesome idea. Not a no. You can’t say no to him. He doesn’t accept no’s. ‘Excuse me?’ He asked you offended, his hand on his chest with narrowed eyes. A few gasps and scoffs could be heard as they left his mouth. The way he looked around as if someone had slapped him mixed with the genuine emotion of hurt was making you hold in your breath. ‘this is not funny! I am hurting.’ He stated bluntly while his eyes shot daggers at you. ‘Now you’re just being dramatic.’ ‘I’m going to die now because of you.’ Drama queen🙄

‘I would probably sit on you by accident.’ You told the blonde haired man, still facing your screen and not paying attention to him. Just until a second ago he was busy rummaging trough your stuff and asking stupid question. He was bored okay? And you not paying attention to him didn’t help either. He couldn’t help but be sulky, Yet your answer made him stop his sulkiness and frown instead. He couldn’t help but think for a moment…it’s not that bad to be honest. He did expect a better answer…but it could’ve been worse right? At least that’s what he hopes. Goo left your drawer full of messed up clothes alone and instead jumped on you, his head resting on your shoulder. He didn’t seem too sulky anymore and instead gave you a kiss on the cheek ‘well at least i’ll get to suffocate cause of your butt’ ‘that’s not-’ ‘I would love to die like that..not even jonggun can surpass that.’

‘No ew you’re gross and dirty then.’ The answer made James a little disheartened, he expected you to actually say yes, maybe with a kiss too. He would’ve done it. His face fell from a wholesome and romantic look to a deadpanned one, just for a second, a split second, you could see the hint of anger in his eyes before he smiled at you. It was a creepy smile. One that looked very happy and cheerful. Eyebrows raised, eyes closed and a rather wide smile, he only did that when he was putting up his idol image…or when he was super mad. It made you feel a little bad for him…’i’m sorry.’ ‘Don’t be. Your answer was honest.’ ‘No really i am sorry.’ ‘As i said, it’s okay i’m fine.’ ‘I was trying to be funny.’ ‘I know’ ‘please. I didn’t mean to hurt you.’ ‘I know…’ ‘…did i make you sad?’ ‘…..no….’ You could see him clench his jaw before he stood up and went to the balcony. He somehow forgot to either close the curtains or forgot that the balcony was made from see through glass. Because the next 10 minutes you could see him scream out his lungs and fight himself, both verbally and physically. It was pretty funny to see since you couldn’t hear anything because the glass was soundproof, only a tweaking pink james on the balcony.

That’s it yall thank yall for reading🫶

[eustasskidagenda]

can i request headcanons of what the monster trio+Usopp and Law think of Goth reader who wears all black, has tattoos and piercings, and loves horror ?? and who would like goths the most?? and idk how but could u mix a little nsfw with this if possible?? thank u!!

Yes, sure thing, here we go with some headcanons ! I didn't add nsfw for Luffy because I do not write smut for him. But for the others, there's a bit of nsfw at the end. Hope it meets your expectations, thank you for requesting :D

☆Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Usopp & Law with a goth s/o

CW : g/n reader, MDNI, both sfw and nsfw, mention of alcohol for Zoro, mention of bullets for law, mention of blood and murder still for law (he’s talking about a horror movie)

WC : 2,4K

Luffy

Luffy's open-mindedness and curiosity would lead him to ask many questions about your style. He finds it cool.

"When did you discover this lifestyle?", "What's the meaning of your tattoo?", "What's your fav piercing?"

At random times, he would touch your tattoos and then, questions time again, "Is it really in your skin? Can you take showers with them, it doesn't fade? Oh wait, look, I can slide my finger into your earring gauge. All those piercings, woh, you must have a lot of holes."

He's so innocent, help.

Of course, he would love to try some goth clothes or to wear make-up just like you. Good luck, he's an incompetent model. Always fidgeting. He is unable to remain still. He would be quite annoying. You would clearly have a lot of struggles to draw a beautiful eyeliner on his over-smiling face. 

And you know, those scenes where he's imitating Sanji or Chopper? He would imitate you. Not to make fun of you, just because Luffy loves that kind of imitation.

He believes that his full black outfit and stunning eye-liner make him look really cool. He would be so proud to show the good job you made on him to everyone. 

Even while sleeping, he would keep his make-up on. He doesn't know that make-up needs to be removed. 

If you want to watch a horror movie, he may freak out because it was really scary or he may laugh heartily because it was quite funny. Especially in a slasher movie. He thinks that the characters' terrible decisions are amusing. "That was hilarious!"

He would love to trace your tattoos with his fingers. Luffy is fond of physical touch with his loved ones, so yes, his hands would be glued to your tattoos all the time. 

"Hey, Y/N, I have an idea for your next tattoo!" While showing you a really ugly drawing. This guy can't even draw a proper circle so a full tattoo… 

He wants to see it on your body now, so good luck.

Zoro 

CW : slight roux sex, oral sex (Zoro receiving), slight dacryphilia

Zoro is so oblivious and stoic that he doesn't care much about anything. He's not into fashion or trends; the only thing he's truly interested in is saké and training. He would not really care about what you're wearing, like he doesn't even know it's called gothic. For him, it's just black clothes, make up, tattoos and piercings. It's fine as long as you enjoy your outfit.

"Ugh, it's called goth… I thought it was just black clothes…" 

However, if someone dares to make a mean comment about your style, he would be pissed off. Zoro craves honor and respect, so he would get really angry. No one can make fun of his s/o. 

"Ain't no fucking way" if you want to put make-up on his face. Paint his nails black is the only thing you can do. 

I believe he would be fond of your piercings. He has some earrings himself, and he thinks they're cool. He would offer you some jewels sometime. "I thought it would look cool on you." Although his appearance is stoic, he has a genuine desire to please you.

And if you two are watching a horror movie together… honestly he would just fall asleep. Saw? Sleeping. Conjuring? Sleeping. Alien? Sleeping. The silence of the lambs? S.l.e.e.p.i.n.g. You just can't freak out Zoro. But he would enjoy having a peaceful moment with you. 

NSFW 

Zoro would be thrilled if you got a tattoo on your back. What a beautiful sight when he takes you roughly from behind: he can watch his cock sliding in and out of you, your ass, and your back tattoo. He would retrace your tattoo with his hands and bite or lick it. All. The. Time. 

Another thing he would enjoy? Your tongue piercing. "That's it, put this piercing into good use" while you're literally gagging on his cock slamming deep down your throat. The way you piercing rolls along his length or on his tip would elicit deep, low grunts from Zoro. Your watery eyes, faded eyeliner, and black drops running down your cheek would be a major turn-on for him.  "Fuck, you look so pretty with your make-up all messed up."

Sanji 

CW : oral sex (reader receiving), penetrative sex (no mention of genital for the reader), for the last paragraph, the reader is wearing a skirt + fishnet tights, but no pronoun used 

Sanji would love your style. He likes fashion and well-dressed people. He thinks that black outfits combined with beautiful smoky eyes and some piercings is an amazing style. 

But well, it's Sanji, so even if you were wearing a paper towel outfit, he would still think you're the most beautiful person in the whole universe. 

He would be a fantastic help with your makeup. Are you in need of flawless eyeliner? Just leave it to him. Same with the lipstick or even nail polish. He is a divine being with hands and he probably learned a few things during the time skip. 

He would have a great time watching scary movies with you. Because it means spending time with his s/o. He would prepare some healthy snacks for the both of you. But on the flip side, he's not a big fan of violence, so he would take this opportunity to get closer to you. "Oh, so scary!" Before holding you firmly. And no letting you go before the end of the movie.

Sanji would be more than happy to help you choose new clothes, make-up, or jewelry. He has really good taste. And he would try some outfits himself just to please you. 

"Y/N, try this one" while showing you a shirt with a big low-cut neckline. Just because he likes to watch your chest. 

If you have a tattoo on your chest, prepare yourself because Sanji's hands would be glued on it. It's too beautiful to resist, he can't help it.

Whenever you get a new tattoo, he will certainly aid you in applying the cream. He's more than happy to lend a hand if it involves touching you.

NSFW

When you're watching a movie, Sanji would enjoy the "chill" time more than the "movie" time. He would begin to retrace all of your tattoos while the movie is still running before going down on you. "Let's see if you can scream more than those guys on screen."

The way you look at him with those beautiful made-up eyes while he's thrusting into you? Intoxicating. The passion, the eyeliner, the make-up…. If you begin to kiss his neck, smearing your lipstick on his skin, his cock would be throbbing within you. It's too much for him to handle.

If you're into wearing skirts and fishnet tights, Sanji would definitely nosebleed. He would just pin you against the wall or sit you on the table, hike up your skirt, and slowly sink his length into you, moaning close to your ear.

Usopp

CW: slight fingering (reader receiving), slight cum play

At the start, he would be impressed by you. Once Usopp gets accustomed to your style, he would absolutely love it.

Your aesthetic, particularly your tattoos and jewels, would be a great source of inspiration for him. Since he is a god of his hands, he would create some outfits and jewels for you. 

To surprise you, he would work really hard on a beautiful tattoo. Unlike Luffy, he is skilled at drawing. He also knows your tastes, so honestly, the final piece would be mesmerizing. Usopp would be very proud if you tattooed his drawing on your skin. 

"R-really, you… you tattooed my drawing on your skin?" With a flustered expression and his heart pounding. 

Even though Usopp doesn't share the same musical/cinematographic tastes, he would try to learn more about your likes. Despite his dislike for scary movies. Our poor Usopp would be so freaked out, especially with the jump scares. At the conclusion of the movie, he would become clingy and even fearful of sleeping alone in the dark. 

He's a dreamer and a good storyteller, so seeing your outfits would help him with his inspiration. He loves to imagine stories and would end up daydreaming about you wearing specific outfits in specific situations. Occasionally, he would draw you. 

Perhaps he could make a weapon that is based on your favorite music or movie. He's so creative. 

He's a coward so piercings/tattoos are not for him, but he would help you take care of yours. And he's really conscientious about it. 

The same applies to your hairstyle or make-up, Usopp knows how to cut hair and he's good with make-up because he's an artist. Please let him do your make-up and hair. He's fond of those moments of intimacy. 

NSFW

"Hey y/n… so I have an idea… you know… your outfit is quite… pretty. I'd love to draw you… but you know, like… a spicy drawing… I mean, an artistic one… you see?" he would babble so much. Poor Usopp is so embarrassed. But he can't help it, you're really inspiring his creative soul. And as you accept being drawn in some suggestive positions, Usopp would try his best to keep both hands on his pencil and hide how turned on he is. But his hard cock pressing against his pants is unavoidable. Please, have mercy.

Another fantasy of his? Painting of your naked body. The sight of your bare body is breathtaking. Usopp would have a lovely and sweet time painting your curves. The softness of his touch and all his mesmerizing comments about how amazing you are, are quite adorable. His hands would be heavenly soft and he would have a glimmer of pride in his eyes because he's truly doing a great job. "Y/N… I need you so bad…" while watching at your exposed bare bottom. With your consent, sure, he would slide two fingers into you, moaning through gritted teeth. He would slide his hard cock between your ass cheeks until he cum. His seed would be on your back, thighs, almost everywhere. "Now, what a beautiful painting."

Law

CW : slight dirty talk, slight teasing, slight nipple play, slight choking 

Law being... Law, he would not be very vocal about his thoughts. Like, you want to wear black clothes? Okay. A lot of piercings? Okay. You like horror movies? Fine. He has too much on his plate to care about that type of thing.

But he would be really curious about your tattoos. At first, he would stay silent because he is aloof. After some time, he would be happy to learn more about the meanings of your tattoos, if they have one. And if not, just how did you get the idea. There's a chance he'll talk about his own tattoos. 

Law finds it difficult to communicate, so having something in common with him would make it easier. He is interested in discussing art with you, or even getting a tattoo with you. Law would love this date idea.

As a skilled doctor, he would be extremely attentive to the healing process. "Y/N-ya, don't forget your cream." all the day. He would leave a note if he's not around.

Putting make-up on his face is not an option. "I don't need make-up anyway, I already have dark circles under my eyes." He's not wrong in fact

Law would probably be uneasy with certain horror movies. Particularly if it can trigger his past trauma. If the plot is about sickness or people taking a bullet, he's not willing to watch it and even mad if you try to force him to. 

If it's a random slasher or something paranormal, it’s okay. And he knows a number of movies. However, he would be extremely irritating. Like, pointing out all the incoherences and the jump cuts. Again, he's a doctor, so whenever there's a gore scene, he can't help but comment on it. "Ugh, it's so ridiculous, it doesn't look like this. You know that Y/N-ya, right? In fact, when people are killed like this, the organs are damaged... first, the..." Prepare yourself for a complete explanation during the movie. "The blood is unrealistic and the costumes are cheap, it's awful."

He's such a nerd. 

Law probably shares your musical tastes, so perhaps he could create a playlist for you. Without any word, just like "Hey, listen to this Y/N-ya" before returning to his office. 

NSFW 

Piercings? Big yes. Nipple piercing? Total heaven. For hours, Law would suck and bite your nipples. Or pinch them. It's so intoxicating for him. "Your nipples are so damn hard, you like when I play with them?" 

Law would be delighted to use a mirror when he plows into you from behind, as he loves your tattoos. The nice jiggle on your ass, all your tattoos wet with sweat, how you squirm and the expression of pure bliss on your face… "You're so beautiful when I'm fucking you" If you're wearing that kind of tight chain necklace, he would brutally pull on, enjoying how you're gagging. And as he buries your head against the pillow, he would love to watch the faded makeup on your face and the marks on the pillow. "You look cute when you bite the pillow." He would say, slapping your ass before continue to fuck you senseless. 

And Law, as the teaser he is, would just love running his fingers along your tattooed skin for hours. Making you tremble with anticipation and desire. He would trace each line and curve from your neck to your ankles, avoiding all your sensitive areas. "You're already so turned on… for absolutely nothing. You need me so badly, y/n-ya? " 

He loves your tattoos and he knows you love his. So while he fucks you, his tattooed fingers would be wrapped around your neck. "My fingers are quite a beautiful collar for you, don't you think? " With his favorite teasing grin. It's written " death " on them for a good reason, because you're here to discover what "a little death" means.

[onlyrains]

𝓫est in pink | 𝓷𝓻𝓴

relationship is scary; what if your partner's favorite color is the one you dislike the most?

“i have something for you!” you shouted as you closed your boyfriend's apartment door.

riki's attention quickly turned to you, ignoring the game on his tv. ���baby? you're back?”

you rushed to him with a bright smile plastered on your lips. “open it!” you placed the paper bag beside him.

his eyes filled with anticipation as he tried to hide his smile. you just reunited with your friends and you still think of him? it's so sweet, he thought.

he cleared his throat then leaned on the sofa, tried to act nonchalant. “what is it?”

“just open it!”

he giggled at your excited voice and finally opened the small bag on his lap.

“TA-DA!” you clapped loudly when he pulled out a matching pink scarf you just bought. “it is so cute, right? we're matching!”

he glanced at his dark colored stuff belongings scattered on the table before let out a genuine laugh. what a contrast. “babe!”

“what?”

“it is so… you.”

“i know.”

“then maybe you can take both of 'em.”

“no, thank you. i won't wear it unless you do.”

“what—why?”

“i won't let my boyfriend miss the chance to look good in pink, you know?” a playful smirk appeared at the end of your words.

once again, riki's laughs filled the room.

“wait, theres more.” you grabbed the bag and put your hand in. “you ready?”

still with a wide smile, he nodded and looked at you intently.

“BA-BAM!” you yelled as you pulled out a two identical knitted coaster, of course, it was pink.

“babe?” this time, it sounded like a whine.

“why? you don’t like it? i made this!”

“you serious when you said you're going to make this place looks pink, aren’t you?”

you nodded confidently. “i am.”

he pulled you closer and side hug you in one quick move. both if your hands resting on his shoulder.

“thank you. i love 'em. well, it's not really my color but i do really love them.”

you pinched his cheek. “it is your color, silly, admit it. you look better in pink than me.”

“not valid because you still look this good after being out all day.”

“maybe that's just my face? not because the pink clothes?” you replied sarcastically, inviting a loud giggle from him.

“ah, your friend don't know that their friend is practically a narcissist, right?” he came closer and placed his chin on your shoulder while now back hugged you.

you smirked. “and your friend probably won't ever know that their cool friend is actually clingy and look best in pink, right?”

he tickled your belly playfully. well, even though pink is his least favorite color, how can he resist when his dear girlfriend wants him to wear it? especially when she made it herself, right?

taglist [open]: @llvrhee

[duskier]

cw objectum (Ghost is dating his rifle and fucks it like he means it!)

Idk about yall I kind of just love pathetic freak Ghost who doesn't care. I feel like he loves his service rifle, carved a name into the lower receiver and called her that name genuinely, like she were a person. (Also called her she, confusing everyone on base for a minute, thinking he somehow finally got a girlfriend.)

He cuddles it in his sleep. He gets used to having the cold, hard metal to wrap his arms around, pulling it against his body. Fingers listless as they dip into the magwell lazily, absently as he drifts off to sleep with his cheekbone against the business end of his dear rifle. It smells like dirt and lead and like home for Ghost, and he needs it to sleep.

When he wakes up in the morning, aching hard and groggy, who else could he trust? The steady, immortal predictability of the rifle's buttstock pressing almost insistently against his own length is too good to resist. So what if he holds the gun steady by the handguard and rocks himself up against it. Hard biting edges giving Ghost the barest amount of pain, sending sparks flying through his core.

It's only a problem when it becomes a habit. Ghost comes home from a long mission, pent up as all hell. Feels like he'll either die or his balls will just fall off from lack of use. It's got him irritable as it's all he can think about. Every little thing that keeps him from beelining to his room needs to be destroyed. He left his gear- including his precious rifle- in the storage room. Not even put away, just leaned against the wall, shoved out of the walkway.

Getting back to his private quarters and not even making it to his bed, just slamming his door locked and gripping his cock over his pants. The gear he could ignore, Ghost doesn't even stop to remove his gloves. Just tugs out his cock and starts frantically chasing that release he's been aching for, the one that has been eluding and tormenting him the entire time.

...But he couldn't reach that goal post. It had become too much of a habit, he couldn't feel the comfort of his bed beneath him nor smell the oil he used to clean his rifle. It's all a blur, then, a miracle he had enough sense to tuck his cock back away as he storms back across base.

If Ghost had been scary before, he was beyond even comprehension now. Angry dark aura infecting the corners of every room he stalked past. Stalking back through the halls with his rifle slung around his shoulders, the familiar weight grounding him just a little.

He beds her like he would any lover. pulling her against him after he's stripped all his clothes off. He wants to feel her against him entirely. Groaning open mouthed at the relief that floods him pressing up against her. He flexes his hips, pushing even just a bit harder. It hurts but she needs to know.

"Can you feel how much I missed ya?" Had Ghost had his wits about him, he might have felt embarrassed for how tender and domesticated he sounded- especially towards his damned gun. "Well I know you was there love, but couldn't hold ya in front o'the lads, not like this a'least. They wouldn't get you like I do."

Rocking up against her insistently. Some fingers gripping the handguard like it's a lifeline, others dancing down her lower and fiddling with her mag release button. The way Ghost is feeling entirely raptured against her form, falling into the heavy daze of lust.

Groaning like a wild animal in a rut, chasing the now swiftly approaching light at the end of the tunnel, Ghost’s tongue flicks out. Licks the sweet bitter rim of the muzzle break. The cold metal still has slag on it, a rough texture that delights his sensitive tongue. He laps at it like it's a hole he's opening for himself, savors the taste as his mind slips slowly further out of his skull. All that's left in him is a need, a hunger.

He scratches his cheekbone on the muzzle when he hugs the rifle tight as he cums- metal and soot and spit and blood mingling together as it feels his body and soul are torn apart. He grunts and moans while his cock shoots rope after rope onto his girl, hips still thrusting weakly as he chases the last of his orgasm down.

[redflagshipwriter]

Halfa Cass Chapter 7 part 1/2

Masterpost

“I see,” said Alfie, hands full of breakfast dishes. “When can I expect you to return home, Miss Cassandra?” Calm. Composed. She followed at his back with the empty water and juice pitchers.

She hummed, doing math in her head. 90 minutes on a fast bike, unknown time there, 90 minutes back. “Dinner?” Cass guessed. “Will message again at 3 with updated estimate.” She put the pitchers down beside the sink silently.

Alfie gave a brisk nod at that sensible plan. Approval. “Very well, Miss. Please drive carefully.” He paused. “And do not forget hydration and your sunscreen.”

“Love you too,” she said, and went to put on the sunscreen. Then she was a whirlwind to get ready. Athletic undersuit, first. Pullover mask in the back, a long hood design that hooked back in on itself. Convenient! Gloves in black jeans pockets. Ankle boots, good for kicking and for driving. 

Cass put her flying suit in her student backpack and put her hands on her hips. She looked around. Room? Clean enough. Equipment? Packed. Reasonable projection of needs? Cass crinkled up her brow and made her best judgment. Probably minimal. Combat not expected, companion powerful. 

“Jacket,” Cass muttered to herself, sudden realization! She darted across the house to get it. The green jacket was important. It was a talisman. It was representative. It was a civilian flying suit that reminded her she was powerful and beautiful. 

When she had it on, she went back for her student back bag and then left from the upper level garage. Black bike, nondescript. Mid range price. 

Cass paused astride the bike, feet firmly planted on either side on the crunchy white gravel of their long driveway. She unzipped the front left pocket and withdrew her phone. To Marvel, she said,

🦇 🏍️ ⬆️ == 1.5 h ⌚ 

Then she opened a new message to Batdad. She didn’t want him to worry. So she said,

💕 👋🏼  🏍️ 

The last person to get a message was Stephanie, who was not flying because she was still in medical schooling. Cass sent,

Just because it was funny. It would make Stephanie laugh.

Then she was off.

Cass pulled her black bat hood down when she found the right area. It was day. Many stares that she loftily ignored. The meeting spot wasn’t Gotham or Fawcett. The laughing magician was in dingy small town, smoking and drinking. Captain Marvel found him first and hauled him out, friendly arm over shoulder. Cass crouched on the roof of nextdoor building to silently peer down, batting a little for the comfort factor of bat things. He was still big-man Marvel-lie, but with new clothes. Happy face with torn jeans and t-shirt. She squinted. Same Marvel shoes. Hmm. No budget, Cass decided. If any budget, better shoes.

Constantine blinked up at Captain Marvel, dazed from alcohol but interested in big handsome man. “Where are you taking me, prettyboy?” He slurred. He was a mess. He reached up and cupped Marvel’s face.

Cass moved. 

Constantine noticed her rapid approach and stumbled upright. Eyes sharp, intelligent. Then: dismay. “Fuck,” he said. Very unhappy. Genuine dislike. “A bat. Which one are you?” Disdain. 

Cass frowned. “Hands off,” she demanded. She crossed her arms. “He’s baby.”

“What?” Marvel said, sounding distressed. Ah. He didn’t know that she knew.

“Really?” Constantine said, wrinkling his face up and looking between her and Marvel pointedly. Because he was a foolish little man who didn’t understand facts that walked into his life. “A nightmare like you pulled this bloke? Fuck my life.”

Yes. A nightmare. Your nightmare.

Cass stretched her mask mouth wider so the teeth would stretch and pull even bigger. She leered at him with all her scariness. He looked like he wished she would leave. Wondered if he made good decision. Regret. Regret. I run my big damn mouth.

“Hey!” Marvel rallied, totally missing the body language interplay. “She’s not a nightmare! Black Bat is very kind and smart.” He put his hands on his hips, which happily meant he had to stop supporting middle-aged wizard weight.

Constantine said some curses under his voice that she didn’t know. He fished around in his pocket and pulled out a packet of cigarettes. The rattling from inside told Cass: three cigarettes. No metal, no secret hidden weapon unless it closely resembled cigarette shape. Maintain wariness. He lit it on fire with his fingers.

What? No lighter? Cass saw no lighter.

While Cass was busy frowning about that the wizard turned on his heel. “Toodles,” he said, and then Marvel grabbed him. 

“Wait! We need your professional help.”

“Do I look like I’m working?” Grungy wizard demanded. He waved a hand up and down his body, showing off his sleeveless tank top and tight pants. 

“Yes.” Black Bat took a couple steps closer. She knew this. “You were working. You’re not so intoxicated. You were running a scam for funding. You need money?” She kept anything out of her tone that could sound like judgment, leaving it cold and empty. No-nonsense. “I pay for consultation.”

Grungy wizard paused, looking her up and down. He took a drag on his cigarette. Stinky wizard. He blew it out at Marvel, RUDE wizard. “Really?” He was dubious. “Where’s the catch?” Stinky wizard scrunkled his face at her. “Usually it’s all ‘you owe it to the world, it’s for the good of humanity, don’t you have any decency?” with you people.

Cass rolled her eyes. “Can we cut the-” her eyes darted to Marvel. “Bullshit?” she finished, because it was the right word even if there were little ears present. “One thousand dollars American.”

Captain Marvel looked at her, eyes wide. Shocked. Envy. Small.

Oh. She hid her sudden bad feeling. 

“...Make it one and a half thousand, Bird, that’s a love,” oozed the Stinky Wizardman. He didn’t expect, but-

“Fine.” Cass said briskly. She didn’t want to spend a lot of time on money. She pulled out her wallet and withdrew one hundred dollar bills until she had 15. The Wizard cursed jealousy and ran a hand through his hair. Marvel was fascinated. Hmm. She held it out.

The wizard wanted it. He looked. He really wanted it. But: wary. No trust. Can’t trust a bat.

She let out a disgusted sigh. Black Bat shook the bills at him impatiently. “My Black Bat fund,” she said, in a tone that meant ‘do you have a brain that thinks thoughts?’ She continued, “For my use in-suit. Obviously real money. Obviously non-consecutive legal tender.” Duh.

“Okie Dokie!” Marvel said cheerfully. “We’re back on track.”

The wizard snatched it and stuffed it in his back pocket, hungry dog, don’t take it from me, I need it. “Let’s not talk here. I have a hotel room.” 

‘Did the stinkyman invite Marvel-baby to his hotel?’

Cass cut the wizard a death look.

He coughed and avoided looking at her. 

That was a yes. “You’re a bad judge of people,” she told the wizard, voice full of disdain. “Yes. Let’s go.” She pointedly moved in between him and Marvel-baby. 

[bnhaficsforthesoul]

Heya!! Could I please ask for hc with Bakugou, Kirishima, Denki and Dabi (if you cant do that many feel free to cut any one of them) and meeting their s/o's parents for the first time? How do you think the encounter would go? (Ps I'm so glad your requests are open but dont overwork!! Take care of yourself and stay hydrated or I WILL make you òwó) 💓

Bakugou

he does NOT want to do this.

he genuinely pushed this off as much as he physically could. like youve probably been together for like a year already, you met his parents, he secretly thinks youre 'the one' or whatever, but hes scared to meet your parents

he doesnt want to deal with trying to put up a nice attitude for them, but he also doesnt want them to think hes a dick or mistreats you because they might convince you to leave him

however, this meeting comes without his consent, as you two are out in town and you bump into your parents at a store. They see you before you do them, so you couldn't even warn him before your parents were coming over to you, very openly eyeing Bakugou

they knew what he looked like, they had bugged you for details multiple times, so they knew who he was right away

Katsu immediately felt himself getting a little sweaty under his clothes, he couldnt help he was naturally sweaty already and now hes overthinking every posibility in his head

Luckily, you talk about him like hes the sweetest most perfect person on earth, and so your parents don't really have anything negative to say or act on

They just go "Oh, Bakugou, right? It's so nice to finally meet you!"

He tries to be as polite as he can, he tries to smile nicely (even though he makes such an ugly face when he forces a smile), and luckily they are on their way again soon

He literally sighs in relief once theyre out of sight and you laugh at him, asking if hes doing alright after meeting your 'oh so scary' parents

he is not amused

Kirishima

Honestly he probably was excited to meet them, and probably asked you if you could introduce him fairly early in the relationship

Not too early, but like once he was sure this was a serious relationship and that he really loved you, he wanted to do things 'the right way' (as hed heard)

So you tell your parents about your boyfriend who things are going great with, and how he really wants to meet them, so they invite him over for dinner

He wasn't stressed about it until it came time to get ready to go, then suddenly he's overthinking everything and doesn't know what to wear, what if he smells, what if he says something dumb

Hes ready to go find a suit to wear before you tell him its not that formal

You also assure him that people love him naturally, as long as he stays calm everything will go fine

and as expected it does, your parents love him. He is definitely a little awkward and a bit too polite towards them, but your parents take it as a good thing

once he relaxes though it really does go great, your parents adore him and 100% accept him as your boyfriend

afterwards he acts like he wasn't overreacting the entire time

Kaminari

also nervous as hell to meet your parents

he would never ask to do so, but he wouldn't tell you no if you asked him if hed be okay meeting them

if its important to you, its important to him

your parents had recently brought up that you should bring over your boyfriend whenever youre both free, and you told them that youd let him know and figure something out

and this time came when a school dance came around, obviously Denki was your perfect date. Even though most everyone got ready at the school, your parents lived near by and you realized that you had a better pair of shoes to match with your outfit there, so figured you could stop by real quick and brought denki

he originally was just going to wait in the car, but once your parents found out he was out there they started screaming for pictures

hes kinda awkward in them, because how does one pose cutely with their s/o in front of their parents. He feels wrong for even touching you for some reason

some pictures he kinda looks like he was electrocuted in, with a goofy smile and a thumbs up

but some of the pictures came out really good and he was happy that your parents forced you two to take them

it also helped that the pictures became the main focus of this meeting rather than getting to know him, he got to do the basic introductions and leave

he knew that next time he saw them hed probably be asked more questions, but he felt more comfortable having already seen what theyre like

plus he got cute pics

Dabi

adamantly refuses to meet them

genuinely hed have to be insanely in love with you to even consider it

he knows full well that even based on appearance alone no parent wants to see their kid with someone like him, and he simply doesn't care enough to try and be nice to some rando just because youre related to them. He likes you, thats it

Hed be more likely to 'meet' your parents if they were awful. Because if theyre nice, then he wonders how you ended up with someone like him in the first place. But if theyre awful, he would totally get rid of them for you if you want

plus after years of holding onto his hatred for his own parents, its hard for him to conceptualize parents that dont suck

so unless he's going to kill your parents, and by some stroke of luck you do actually have great parents, hes not meeting them unless its by accident

and he will not stay and chat with them either, only if your parents are incredibly important to you then he'll make sure to tell them that he knows he doesnt look it, but he loves their kid and he'll do anything for them. but thats it

and his face is everywhere, hes a villain, so even if theyre okay with the idea of you dating a villain he reminds them to not say anything that would jeopardize your safety