#soap: *clean freak*

[cod-dump]

Soap: Me and Ghost have decided to move in together!

Gaz: *looks over at Ghost and stares at him for a solid ten seconds before looking back at Soap*

Gaz: Good luck with that

[yearning-gay]

bought a dildo but i don't have lube and i need to sort out a way to store it because it did not come in a convenient box but i have it and it's smaller and something i could probably take woo

[s0fter-sin]

so lately i’ve been obsessed with a 141 dancer au

gaz runs classes, has a youtube channel and quickly becomes one of the most sought after choreographers in the music video scene. soap is his dance partner for his classes, he helps run them and does demonstrations with him

ghost is also a choreographer and he’s gaz’s Arch Nemesis

he's famous for never performing his routines, never doing public appearances without his skull mask and being highly exclusive with who he allows to perform his choreo which earns him his name (since he’s a ghost creator). gaz however is a social media darling, his classes and videos regularly doing huge numbers

they both popped up around the same time and are neck and neck in terms of popularity and skill and they immediately rub each other the wrong way

gaz accuses ghost of not actually choreographing his routines himself bc no one has ever seen him dance and ghost thinks gaz is a clout chaser who's just in it for the fame instead of passion

he became a dancer as a way to channel his rage after years of being an underground fighter, the discipline and physicality helping him more than fights ever did. he hates the thought of someone just using it just to get famous when it literally saved his life

deep down they know their accusations are wrong and they have a grudging appreciation for the other's talent but they'd both rather die than admit it

price is a famous dancer turned director they both work with frequently and they always fight over him; trying to get their routines picked for his music videos. he's also the only one in the industry who's ever seen the ghost perform (before he got famous and before the Incident™)

he finally gets fed up with them constantly being at each other's throats and hires them both to work together and choreograph a joint routine. they're both famous in their own right but this video is for a huge artist so neither of them can refuse no matter how much they hate the other

gaz has a gymnastics background but also a ballet background which lends him to a more fluid style whereas ghost’s style is stronger, more masculine with sharper movements so they naturally end up butting heads

then there's soap who has a completely different style altogether, focusing on a more modern, breakdancer style which makes him see everything completely differently

but it also adds to his self-doubt bc he didn't have a formal dance education, he built his entire repertoire by himself. people see him as inferior to gaz who has that very formal, highly disciplined style. his insecurities about only ever being seen as gaz's demonstration partner and that he can only do gaz’s routines so all his skill is just an extension of him instead of being seen as a dancer in his own right forces him to adopt a rigid - destructive - perfectionism in himself and his body

soap meets ghost before the first rehearsal. he gets to the studio early to practice when sees this beautiful man dancing

he has no idea who he is but he moves so seamlessly, almost better than gaz, and he immediately falls a little in love. the man catches him watching in the mirror and he flusters, getting worse as the man just smirks at him and flawlessly completes the routine

soap tries to save face and asks him to teach him the routine he's doing

the man agrees, introducing himself as simon. the style of the routine is familiar to soap but he can't focus on it when simon's hands are on his waist, guiding him through the steps; his chest pressed up against his back. they work together beautifully, picking up each other's body language and dancing together easier and better than they've ever danced with anyone

then gaz arrives and the vibe in the studio immediately changes

simon's easy confidence becomes hostility, pulling up the skull gaiter he'd let hang around his neck as he practically pushes soap behind him to square up to gaz

soap’s shocked when gaz hits back with the same energy until he realises it's the same way he acts whenever he talks about ghost and his stomach drops

he steps out from behind ghost to side with gaz and the betrayal in simon's eyes hurts more than anything he's ever felt

from there it's romeo and juliet; camp gaz versus camp ghost as they fight over every step of the choreo and soap is the poor bastard stuck in the middle

soap tries to channel that “you’re my best friend’s rival, i have to hate you,” mindset but he can’t forget the way it felt to dance with simon

and how much he wants to do it again

[hotniatheron]

i'm going to be real. there's no way cas and dean would be doing that farmer's market shiet. i love that fic but it's just not realistic. these men can't read measuring conversions and cas is a health code violation risk bc he's always rank

[miseryinyou]

You ever been forced to live with someone who is so fucking lazy that you have dreams of violence?

[micallum]

Spending money on personal hygiene products and realizing that being clean is a TASK is how you know you have grown up.

[disgustingtwitches]

Bad habits that would irk 141

Price- I call people "dude," "man," or the worst one, "bro." It comes so naturally to me that I say it to everyone, and he hates that. He's a captain, a sir, an authority figure. He'd be stern about it,

"I'm not a 'bro'. Watch your mouth before I remind you who I am."

Gaz- I eat the cartilage and marrow out of chicken bones... I was just raised that way. I was told it was good for me and I shouldn't waste any part of the animal. Please don't judge me╥﹏╥ He wouldn't say anything about it, but it would definitely be an ick for him, LMAO. I'd be able to tell because of his face though, the expressive man he is.

Ghost- When I complain without wanting a solution to my problems. Sometimes I just wanna get things off my chest, and God bless him for trying to resolve my issues. But when I say I just wanna complain, he just thinks, "Why bring it up if you don't want me to help you?"

Soap- I leave laundry piles in my room; they are clean; I just don't like putting them away... He's not exactly a clean freak, he just sees everything through,

"C'mon Bonnie, ye'r almost done wi' it. Juist gotta put it away."

[writersdrug]

Heyyyyyy!!! So I’m absolutely freaking OBSESSED with your bartender AU… like I’m just eating up everything that’s coming out with itttttt!!! I love your writing so much and I’m honestly so hooked whenever I read your stuff!

I was wondering if I could request something with bartender Simon Riley and it’s where he finds reader crying in the backroom/pantry/stock area of the pub cause it’s been one of *THOSE* days. So he finds her there and sits with her and she just absolutely melts onto him and it’s all very sweet… sorry if this too much info for a request! Again, I absolutely love your work! 🤭🫶

Combining this with a few other asks about reader and Simon having a tender moment + reader having monetary issues

You're rather quiet today - you'd come in and spoken your hello's to everyone, then promptly got to work. Starting on rolling silverware in the far booth, then fifo-ing the pantry and fridge upstairs, then cleaning the bathrooms (you hated cleaning them, which is how Simon first figured out something was wrong). Didn't even reach for the French toast sticks Soap had put under the warmer for everyone. You have an expression plastered to your face as you work. Something between frustration and worry, and it has Price, Johnny, and Simon all on edge. Still, they let you be; it was well-known by now that personal space is sacred to them, and Simon trusts that you'll speak up if you need a shoulder.

Gaz couldn't stay to help drag the kegs upstairs today - something about the Brewmaster being on a trip to Austria, so he was left to watch the brewery. Simon doesn't mind that much. He can easily lift two kegs onto his shoulders and trudge them upstairs to the fridge. He grunts as he moves past the office, careful not to bang the kegs on any corners. Adjusting his grip, he pushes his way into the walk-in fridge-

He sees you, facing the boxes of fruits. "Oh- sorry, luv-" he sets the first keg down, then the second. "Y' need me to reach somethin'?"

You shake your head. Simon furrows his brow, noticing how tense your shoulders are. You're just... standing there. Not reaching for anything, not even looking at the shelves. Just staring at your feet.

You're crying.

All of his duties as a bartender fall to the side. He lets the door fall shut behind him. "Hey, hey... what's goin' on?" he places a hand on your upper back, rubbing his thumb back and forth as he waits for you to turn around. His mind is racing a million miles a minute, trying to imagine what could possibly have you this upset - and what he can do to fix it.

You shake your head, sniffling and trying to control your breaths. "It's nothing, I'm just - just a weird day, y'know? Not sure why I'm crying." You turn to look up at him and muster a smile, though your teary eyes say something else entirely.

He sighs. "C'mon, what's wrong?" He kneels down so that he's looking up at you - something his mom used to do when he felt too overwhelmed to tell her why he was crying. He can't explain it, but it made it easier to let go of whatever was troubling him.

Your lip wobbles, and you cave. Simon holds himself steady as you hug him, his burly arms wrapping around the small of your back. You sob, chest shaking with sharp inhales and sniffles, and Simon closes his eyes and sighs. This is what he wants: to be the lighthouse in your storm, to hold you steady while you began to slip. More than anything, though, he doesn't want you to cry.

He does what he remembers his mother doing. He gently shushes you, heart aching as you fist the back of his shirt and try to compose yourself. He uses one hand to drag an upturned crate behind you, slowly lowering you to sit down. The last thing he wants to do is let go of you, but he needs you to talk. He grabs a bucket and pulls it under him, planting himself in front of you and looking into your eyes.

"Talk to me. What's on your mind, hmm?"

You explain it all through sniffles and sobs: you're mom's recently called and said she wants to visit you. You're embarrassed with yourself, still living in that shitty apartment with your shitty roommate, a marketing degree hanging on your wall that you've never used (believe me, you've tried, but places really aren't hiring). Money isn't tight, but you're not saving - just making enough to exist and occasionally buy the name brand instead of the generic. One thing spirals into another, and you find yourself despairing about how you're never going to be anyone important, you're never going to make a difference - you're not even a cog in the machine. You're just the space between it.

God knows Simon's felt it, too.

"See?" you laugh at yourself, wiping a tear away with your fingers. "It's stupid. I do this every once in a while, right before my period."

Simon grunts. Good to know he can start buying chocolate and leaving it stuffed in the server cabinet. "It's not stupid, luv. You're worried - it's alright."

You cover your eyes, fighting the urge to start sobbing again. "I just... I feel like I'm not doing what I should be doing. I'm not getting anywhere. I thought I was going to be in a corporate office by now, living in a penthouse apartment and travelling wherever I want."

Simon scoffs. "Well, that's just unrealistic."

You huff. "I know. But that's success, isn't it?"

"Is that what you want?"

"Success? I mean... doesn't everyone?"

"Lemme put it this way." Simo leans his elbows on his knees, and you find yourself being drawn in to meet him, arms folded over your stomach.

"I assume you're happy 'ere." he says, looking you in the eyes. "What, with making your silly li'l drinks and swappin' all my shit for somethin' pink, 'n whatnot."

You giggle. "Yeah, I am..."

"Do you want to be happy?"

"I..." you pause. "Yeah, I do. Of course."

"Then aren't you already successful?" he asks. "You're not drownin' in bills - I hope you'd tell me if ya were - and you're happy. Is workin' a stupid corporate job n' livin' above the clouds gonna make it better?"

You looked at his hands, turning over the words in your head. It was stupid. It was the stupidest thing you've ever been worried about - he was completely right. You're happy here. You've never been happier - not in college, not at your data entry job, and definitely not in high school. You laugh, looking down at your own hands. "Yeah, you're... you're right. God, that was stupid-"

"Oi." he says sternly, slapping your knee - you froze, attention fully directed to him now.

"'S not stupid." he says, pointing a finger at you. "Just have to work through this sort of shit."

You watch as he stands and stretches his arms over his head, joints popping and cracking. "Should leave, 'fore we start heating up the fridge." he opens the door, and you quickly stand and follow him on the way out.

"What about the kegs?" you ask, following him down the stairs. "Do you need help bringing those up?"

"Give it time. Let it cool back down in there." He pauses at the bottom of the stairs, hand on the doorknob as he watches you quickly smear away the mascara under your eyes. "You eat anything today?"

You shake your head, fixing the knot on your server apron.

Simon forces his eyes away from your waist. "There's French Toast on the warmer - Soap made it for you. Go take a fifteen."

"But I haven't fini-"

"'M not askin'." he grunts out, pushing through the stairwell door and into the restaurant. He leaves you there to finish collecting yourself, staring after him with a small smile.

If this was you when you had first started working here, you would have thought he was frustrated with you for being so emotional. Now, that's just how you've come to know him. You quickly fix your hair and wipe your face once more, stepping out into the pub. The smell of cinnamon sugar wafts through the air as you make your way towards the kitchen, sparing one last sentimental glance to Simon as he begins setting up his bar.

[vwildmage]

I'm trying to write a fic and I'm hung up on a detail

If you were bitten by a person, which would you go for to disinfect the wound? Not with much research, not with intense recalling of medical knowledge. Imagine someone just bit the fuck out of you, you're understandably stressed and freaked out, and you ran to the medicine cabinet to clean it.

for the "other" option, I know this is the shitpost website, so I don't mind if you put a joke in the tags, but I still would like your serious answer 👀

[starkeysprincess]

handyman!rafe cleaning himself up when he finally asks you out but he’s still a nasty little freak watching you happily showering for your date from the cameras he set up 🤭 and when he sees you spread your legs to trim yourself his cock swells in his jeans and he groans to himself “yeah baby get yourself ready f’me… waited so long to fuck that little pussy real good”

pairing: handyman!rafe x reader

warnings: icky/sleazy behavior, hidden camera, rafe watching reader get ready for their date, mention of male masturbation, 18+ mdni

after almost a month of the two of you tip-toeing around each other, rafe decided he’d had enough. he wouldn’t wait any longer; he had to have you. he found himself at your apartment more often, not that you mind. you enjoyed his company; your small crush on the tall blonde only increased the more he was around, and it didn’t help that he was nice to look at.

he had just finished fixing the shower head in your bathroom when he finally decided to ask you out. your reaction, how your face flushed, and how you stuttered when you said yes were etched into his brain.

as soon as he left, you couldn’t help but squeal in excitement before panicking because you hadn’t been on a date in so long. you practically ran to your closet, skimming through various articles of clothing, trying to figure out what to wear. you were thankful he couldn’t see your reaction, at least, that’s what you thought, not knowing that he could see your reaction from the camera he had hidden in your room weeks ago.

he watched as you looked in the mirror, trying on several outfits and huffing when you didn’t think it was good enough to wear. rafe didn’t care what you wore; he knew you’d look good in anything, but he would admit that watching you freak out and try to find the perfect outfit was fun. he liked that you were nervous, trying to find an outfit– you wanted to look perfect for him.

when you were finally content and settled on an outfit, you walked into your bathroom, turning the water on to warm up as you undressed. rafe looked at his phone screen, watching as you stepped into the shower and started lathering your body with the strawberry-scented body wash he’d grown to love.

he chuckled when he heard you humming a song to yourself, his cock starting to harden as he watched the water trickle down your body, washing away the soap suds. he stared at his phone, seeing you grab your razor and shaving cream, “shit,” rafe rasped, sitting up further on his bed when you propped your leg on the shower ledge, spreading your legs.

rafe let out a groan at the realization of what you were doing, licking his lips when you spread your legs more as you started to shave. his hand moved to palm his cock through his jeans, “good girl, that’s it baby, get yourself ready f’me”.

his palm worked his cock as he sped his movements, the friction from the denim pulling a moan from his lips, “fuck, been waitin’ so long to fuck that sweet little pussy real good, can’t fuckin’ wait to make you my good little cockwhore tonight”.

tagging: @oceandriveab @babygorewhore @cameronsprincess @xxbimbobunnyxx @rafesthroatbaby @sturnioloshacker @nemesyaaa @shawtycoreee @heartsforvin @fae-of-prey @fallrafwe @rafeyscurtainbangs @sturnskiss @drewstarkeys-world @blckbrrybasket @wearemadeofstardust0 @juniebugg @justafangirls-blog @honeybunniesoobin @starkeysbebe @chimindity @spid6y @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @kisses4angel @rafecameroninterlude @drewsarms @bunnyrafe @starkeyisthelastname @rafeinterlude @amandabbbbb @starkeysheart @flvredcas @emilysuperswag @hyperfixationgirl @hallecarey1 @justafangirls-blog

[lihhelsing]

steddie | 1.6k | mature | angst

cw: mentions of parental abuse (verbal)

written for @steddieangstyaugust day 21

Prompt: Please

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The second Eddie steps into the kitchen, he knows something is wrong. 

Steve always says he doesn't mind doing the dishes and Eddie has given up on arguing with him about it long ago.

He watches as his boyfriend stands in front of the sink. On any day, he would find Steve whistling to some pop song, swaying his hips to whatever rhythm he has in his head as he soaps up their dishes. 

He's usually happy when he does it. Tells Eddie it always helps. And Eddie can't quite put his finger on what's wrong but he's definitely not happy. 

Eddie walks up to him slowly, and once he's a little closer he can see Steve's shoulders shaking. It's barely there and Eddie is unsure what to do, but when he reaches his hand and touches Steve, he knows that's the wrong choice.

Steve recoils, dropping whatever he was holding in his hand with a loud noise inside the sink and Eddie pulls back.

He's not sure what's happening, but he doesn't like it one bit. 

"Hey, hey. Steve. Look at me. What's wrong baby? 

Steve turns to him and his face is red and wet from the tears spilling down. Eddie feels his inside twisting, and his mind goes straight to Dustin and the kids. 

Something happened to them, and somehow Steve knows it and-

"P-please," Steve says, so fucking small. "Please, don't be mad."

Eddie frowns, his brain scrambling to catch up. 

"Why would I be mad?" 

At first, it seems like Steve's not going to say anything but then he moves to the side and Eddie sees the sink. 

The sink is a mess. And Steve is usually a neat guy so it takes Eddie one second to adjust. And then, he sees the blood.

It's not a lot of blood, but it's definitely blood. Eddie tries not to freak out because he knows it'll only make it worse

"What happened, sweetheart?" Usually, Steve loves when Eddie uses pet names, but today? Today he almost folds in on himself.

"I broke a-a mug," Steve says and Eddie has to hold himself together, afraid of hurting his feelings with the tiniest reaction.

"That's... ok," Eddie says, hoping that's the right answer. Steve doesn't relax but he also doesn't get worse, so he counts that as a win.

"No, Eddie. I broke a mug. And it's your favorite," Steve says and Eddie nods softly.

"Is it the Garfield one?" Eddie asks and Steve's eyes widen. He nods, doesn't meet his eyes. 

Eddie actually dislikes that mug. It was his father's and he felt obliged to keep it, but he kept hoping it would break. Nothing against Garfield, but he would much rather not have anything to remember his father by. 

"Well," Eddie looks at the sink, "I'll clean it. And you can go sit in the living room and I'll be there in a second to patch you up." 

Steve doesn't move. He just shakes his head and Eddie is a little lost. Maybe his hand is hurting so he tries to grab it but Steve flinches, back hitting the sink and making a pan slide down. 

"Baby, what... what is it?" Eddie asks. He's at a loss here and has no idea what to do. If nothing works, he'll have to call Robin because Steve is clearly about to have a breakdown.

"You're mad," Steve says. And... no. Eddie's not mad. Why would he be mad over a dumb mug? Even if it was his favorite, Eddie wouldn’t be made. Accidents happen and he’s honestly more worried that Steve is hurt than anything else.

"I'm not, Stevie,” he tries to sound sincere, but it’s like Steve has checked out of their conversation. Like he’s lost inside his own head.

"I broke your favorite mug. I made a... a mess. But I'm gonna clean it up." 

Eddie shakes his head. "You'll do no such thing. You're gonna go to the living room and you're gonna let me clean it. And then you’re going to wait for me because I need to take a look at your hand, need to make sure it’s just a superficial cut."

Eddie moves again and Steve freezes. 

"No! I'm gonna clean it," he says and Eddie is starting to get tired. He wants to fix it, he wants to help Steve, but he’s not sure how. 

There’s a little voice inside his head that tells him this is not about this particular mug on this particular day. Eddie likes to think he’s a nice boyfriend. Treats Steve well. Because he does. Never did anything to make Steve think he would be mad over a broken mug and definitely wouldn’t be mad about any mess. 

Everyone knows Steve is the one putting up with Eddie’s messy ass. 

Then, like a lightning bulb, something clicks, and Eddie decides to try something. 

"Steve," he says, voice stern, and Steve looks like he was expecting it. "Go to the living room. Right now. I'll be there in a second." 

Eddie hates the way his voice sounds. He’s not being rude, just a little more firm than he would usually be with Steve. 

Steve likes soft and sweet. But this seems to do the trick. He watches as Steve’s eyes fall to the ground with a small nod and then he walks away, pressing his hands together to keep the blood from dripping everywhere.

He sighs. He feels so out of his depth right now it's not even funny. He wants to call Buckley and ask her what she thinks, but he can’t right now. Steve would definitely hear it and that wouldn’t end up well. 

Eddie gets to cleaning. He collects the broken pieces and feels like the mug is mocking him, telling him how dumb and useless he is. Can’t even help his boyfriend.

He’s not in any rush. Feels like Steve could use the quiet time to calm down. To maybe tell Eddie what’s happening and then Eddie will fix it.

But that’s not what happens.

Steve is sitting on the couch, head low as he clutches his hand. His sweatpants are stained with blood and Eddie knows he'll have to ask Wayne how to clean them. 

"Steve," he says softly but even that makes him jump. He looks up at him and his eyes are glassy and distant. Eddie fucking hates it.

"I'm sorry," he says again and Eddie sighs. He doesn't know what's happening but he has a hunch and he's going to go with it. 

"It's ok. It was an accident," he says and he can see Steve shaking his head. "Stop. I'm talking now." 

Eddie's voice is calm but firm and Steve just nods, sniffling. 

"I wouldn't lie to you, would I?" Eddie asks.

Steve shakes his head. That's not enough. 

"Words, Steve. Would I lie to you?" 

"N-no," Steve says and Eddie offers him the hint of a smile. 

"Right. So, I'm not mad that you broke the mug, ok?" 

Steve nods. "Ok."

"I am mad, though," Eddie starts and he sees fear in Steve's eyes. His insides twist. He's either going to nail this or ruin his relationship. "That you hurt yourself and didn't call for me. Why didn't you call me for, Stevie?"

He says the last part a little softer. Steve's eyes are on him and this is it. Either he cracks him or fucks this up completely. 

"I... didn't want you to be mad," he says. 

"Because of the mug?" 

"Y-yeah," Steve's voice shakes and Eddie takes a step forward. "I didn't mean to, it slipped from my hand and broke, and I thought you would be mad." 

"Baby," Eddie says. It's hard to keep his stance. He wants to hold Steve and kiss him and promise him things are ok, but he needs Steve to see it first. "I wouldn't. I couldn't. You know that, don't you?" 

Steve doesn't seem sure but he nods. And it’s after a long sigh that he keeps talking, "my... dad.  He always got mad. Always yelled at me and called me stupid." 

Eddie sighs. Bingo. 

"I'm not your dad though, am I?" 

"N-no."

"Who am I?" Eddie asks and Steve looks at him and his face finally softens. 

"You're Eddie. My... boyfriend" 

Eddie smiles. "Yeah, I am. And I don't get mad, do I?"

"Only..." Steve says. He looks like a kid, afraid to get the answer wrong. "Only if I hurt myself and don't call you." 

Eddie feels his chest filling up with pride. He nods, takes a step forward, and puts his hand on Steve's face. 

"Yeah. That's right. Because it's ok to ask for help. I'll always help you, ok? I'll always take care of you, Stevie. And I'll never get mad at something like this, ok?" 

Steve's eyes flutter shut. He's calmer now. He nods and nuzzles Eddie's hand. 

"Ok, Eddie. Thank... thank you." 

Eddie caresses his face. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I got you, ok? Can I clean you up?" 

Steve nods. "Please."

God. Eddie's heart is in pieces right now. He's so sad and so angry at the same time. He wants to storm into the Harrington's house and beat the shit out of Richard Harrington. 

He remembers seeing Steve walking around in school. Hidden bruises that no one seemed to notice. But Eddie did. 

He's going to kill that motherfucker.

But not right now. 

Right now he's going to take Steve to the bathroom in their tiny apartment. And he's going to clean him up and patch his cut. And he's going to take him to bed, to cuddle him and whisper in his hair how much he loves him. 

How he's the best thing that has ever happened to him. How Steve makes him so, so happy. How he wants to spend the rest of his life with him. 

But tomorrow? Tomorrow he's going to make sure no one hurts Steve ever again. 

[moondirti]

also, lately i been really into pairing soap with the filthiest most horny sluts imaginable. people who don’t only match his freak but someone make it worse. enable him by planting themselves on his cock every morning while he’s half asleep and going at it until they either die from dehydration or milk themselves dry. no one sees him for days at a time because he finally has someone willing to try all those nasty ass fantasies and impossible poses he’s been waiting to do his whole life. just a horrible influence all around; especially with how eternally tempting they are, constantly naked and willing no matter how many times they’ve cum that day. holes always full and body never clean and hair never neat and skin never unmarked.. etc

[foldingfittedsheets]

Since I already have established myself as a little pickle freak with no shame I have another extremely embarrassing story that will probably make you laugh.

When I started dating Brendan he was still living at home, but after we'd been dating a while he and his best friend Charlie decided to move in together. Another friend of theirs was looking for roommates and they decided to go for it. It was the lower level of a house.

Here's where I need to set the stage a little. Looking back on the time I spent in that space, I don't actually even know if it could have been nice under other circumstances. I feel almost pity for that house, full of young disgusting boys. Bare and wretched, it had minimal threadbare furniture, no decorations, and the guy who lived there already was hands down the most disgusting person I've ever met.

Not his character, but his habits. This boy's name was Josh. I genuinely don't know if their moving in with Josh was a handshake deal or if they saw the place beforehand. No sane person would ever have chosen to live there otherwise, I feel certain.

There was a kitchen. Sorta. But like. Was there a kitchen? Every counter, the whole sink, everything was just covered in dirty dishes. Brendan and Charlie said, "Josh, you need to do the dishes, we can't even wash anything cause it's so full of dirty dishes."

Josh's response to being asked to clean was to load all the dirty dishes onto a blanket. And then he dragged that blanket down the hall into the laundry room.

Crusted on residue, molding slimes, and horrible odors arose as he moved the blanket. After two months they said, "Josh, you can't just leave your dirty dishes on a blanket in the laundry room."

Josh's response was to drag the blanket of misery and miasmas into his room instead.

Josh didn't shower very much and he was a big guy. At one point I walked past his door when it opened. His girlfriend was crossing to the bathroom and I almost dry heaved directly in front of her. The smell of rotting foot, dried on sweat, and sex musk swirled together into the most eye watering assault my nose had ever faced.

So that's where our story takes place. A home of no hand towels, no soap by the bathroom sink, a blanket covered in months of early-twenties depression dishes.

I was meeting some of these people for the first time on the night of our story. Josh had a crew of two others guys who just hung around constantly. So it's me and five dudes hanging out, chatting, ignoring the various smell scapes to live in the moment. Josh left briefly to go pee.

Then I felt a stabbing in my guts. I shot a panicked look to Brendan and casually said I had to pee too. At that time in my life I was experiencing some of the most god awful IBS I've ever experienced. I knew I was going to make a crime scene in there. To my dismay there was no fan to turn on. But Brendan, like the champion partner he was, started telling a story at extremely high volume to cover the sound of my anus exploding under the force of my anxiety poops.

When I flushed and turned to the sink, I was dismayed. There was no soap. I looked around the bare bathroom and didn't see anything useful. No one had ever wanted to wash their hands here before. I then looked over the tub and spotted a tiny window that I wasn't tall enough to open. I wanted to let out the truly rank and terrible smell I had filled the bathroom with, but I had to give that up as impossible.

I slipped out and quietly said, "Hey, is there dish soap or something to wash my hands?"

"Oh," said one of Josh's friends, "There's a bar of soap by the window, let me grab it for you." This was not unreasonable, because again, I couldn't reach the window but I was doused in fear at the ridicule I was about to face.

He went to the door of the bathroom and literally staggered back from the unholy smell I'd left there. He had his arms up as if to protect his face from the malevolent beast my bowels had left behind. When he turned to us there was tears standing in his eyes.

In this house of awful smells and terrible hygiene, I was the stinkiest monster of all, bringing this boy to tears. I broke out in a sweat, ready to cry myself at the shame that was about to be cast upon me.

But instead. He said, "JOSH!"

"I can't believe you dude! Oh my god! That is the nastiest shit I've ever smelled!!" He waved the door frantically to dilute the awful power of my shit and then plowed through to open the window and air out the bathroom, passing me the soap. "I can't BELIEVE you had to go in there after him, oh my god, use the kitchen sink to wash your hands! It's gnarly!"

Everyone turned to rag on Josh for the newest addition to the gallery of smells in the house and he didn't look at me once. He laughed and pulled my shame onto his shoulders with grace, taking the bullet for me like a true hero. Only Brendan and I knew I was the stinky villain.

Josh never brought it up after, but I remain grateful to this day.

[d1s1ntegrated]

Im honestly in love with ur headcannons i just cant stop reading them 😭 do u think you could write some hcs about how u think reader bathing/showering with shigaraki would be 👀

AHHH THIS IS SO CUTE YES?!

bathing w shiggy hcs (some nsfw)

･˚‧･+‧₊‧.°.⋆.🫧 .•˚₊‧⋆:｡+.･ﾟ

before you came along, shigaraki didnt know how to fuckin bathe properly

he basically just rinsed clean with cold water and bar soap cause no one really taught him how

so the first time you brought him in the shower, he was in shock

how could one person need so many soaps????

definitely tried to make a shower potion with them secretly at some point

shampoo, conditioner, bar soap, gel wash, scrub, deep conditioner, face washes, shower lotion...

you walked him through it slowly, starting with shampoo

his favorite part, btw

your nails scratch against his scalp slightly and he just untenses immediately

then you wash him with a gentle cleanser and a washcloth for his skin

mfer hates loofas

like they freak him tf out bc one time he had one and it completely unraveled like a fuckign snake and he threw it

you guys use warm water at first but not too hot because his skin is sensitive :(

then do a really cold rinse to keep his hair and skin soft (he hates this part at first but then gets used to the chill and just stands there like a wet puppy)

not even in a sexual way, he'll get hard from just seeing your naked body, he cannot fathom how beautiful you are

shower kisses>>>

baths are even better

you guys take one weekly for his skin

he likes bath bombs a LOT. the first time he saw one he was so confused

oatmeal and honey baths are his favorite because it makes him feel so soft and helps the itching

doesnt like the feeling of lotion on his skin but puts up with it for you (while groaning about how he doesnt need it)

he likes to be held in the shower/bath, it warms him up

shakes his hair off dramatically

a lot of the stuff he was supposed to learn he didnt, like shaving and properly washing his face so you taught him

does that thing where he just sits in his towel and stares at the wall for upwards of an hour if you dont tell him to get dressed

you also do that tho

sometimes its just nice to sit man

he doesnt like shower sex cause its "too hard"

meaning he slipped one time and got scared

he's very conscious of his hands when you shower together cause he has to take his gloves off but he wants to grab you so badly

:) i hope this is good!

thank u for the request luv

[slushycoookie]

Take A Bite

“Oh my god, what happened to your neck?”

One of your friends pointed at your exposed neck, two small holes in full display. Embarrassment started to set in. Because you thought you had covered it up enough before you went out.

You try to play it cool, “Nothing. A spider bit me.”

“That's a big ass spider.” Another one of your friends zoomed up close, “How did it get that close to you and you didn't know about it?”

“No idea.” You take a few sips of your drink, wishing you had ordered a stronger one to ease your anxiety. “I'm fine. He was harmless.”

“He?” Your friend raised an eyebrow, “You said that like it was a guy who did that to you.”

You try not to choke from your drink. It was definitely a guy. A superhero who's super busy all the time but still makes time for you, a regular person. “No. What guy has fangs? That's real?”

“Oh…you have a point.”

Your friends can't know that deep down inside, you were a freak.

Ever since you started dating Miguel, you were fascinated by those fangs of his. Not in a creepy way. You just liked to look at them. Those teeth in their sharp, fangy glory. He doesn't like pulling them out much. And it doesn't happen unless he gets emotional or he absolutely has to for work.

You wanted him to take a bite. Sink his fangs into you while he cradles your neck, unleashing his paralytic venom in you.

No wonder he looked at you like you were crazy when you first asked.

“You can't handle that.” He said. “I could kill you.”

So dramatic.

Your argument wasn't the best. All you said was you wanted to know what it felt like. Would it hurt? How long would your body take for it to be still? Would you like it? He still didn’t want to do it.

Yet, you saw the gears turning in his mind.

He was considering it. Your relationship wasn’t new at this point. You two were comfortable with each other. And you just admitted an odd kink to him. If he didn’t run away after this, you two were set for life.

Miguel did a complete 180 at the end of that day, willing to sink his teeth into you. You had to hold in your excitement or else you’d look like a loser.

But your breath hitched when he placed you in his lap. Casually sitting on the couch back at your apartment. You made sure that your neck was extra clean for him, although now you were worried if you tasted like soap.

“This is going to hurt.” He whispered, his tone was calming.

“I know.”

You squeezed your thighs together when his fangs rushed out. Goosebumps decorating your skin at the sight. His hold on you was gentle when he sunk his teeth in you.

“Ow!” Your body jolted at the action, searing pain riddling your neck. You grip his shoulders for stability and wonder if you made a terrible mistake. That lasted for a few seconds when the pain subsided. The sharp prick turned into a warm burn. His venom coating your veins. Like a drop of dye into a glass of water. The venom took over your bloodstream. You noticed it was getting really difficult to move your limbs. Or your head. Even your eyes?

They quickly darted to Miguel when he pulled away, wiping your neck and placing a bandage on it. Okay, at least you can move those. You didn’t miss his look of concern when he holds you.

“I gave you enough venom so you're only paralyzed for a few hours.” All you could do was blink. Hey, at least you can do that too. Miguel's harsh laugh made you worry if he was upset with you. “Estoy enamorado de una loca (I fell in love with a crazy person).”

You had no idea what he said but you understood loco. You're pretty sure he called you crazy. He was going to break up with you now. You're too weird for him- a man who saves people dressed in a spider suit.

He stayed with you though. Bringing you to the bed and cuddling with you. The venom only lasted for a few hours but when you finally moved your limbs, they felt heavy. You had to pour in all of your strength to raise an arm but you liked it.

That was the worst part.

You liked how it felt. His teeth against your flesh. Subdued by him for a few hours. It was hot.

Even now, your cheeks burned at the thought of being bitten by him again. Your mind buzzed with the alcohol in your system. You could ask without caring about his judgmental look. And so you did once you got back home.

“No.” He said but this was the start of your foreplay.

“Are you saying no because I’m a little buzzed or are you saying no just because?”

“I’m saying no just because.” He’s by your side, pushing you to the bedroom to get changed. “Did you have fun?”

“I did. Back to my request.”

Miguel’s eyes are on you as you pull off the top from your outing and slipping off your shoes at the same time. You thought you did it with grace but to him it probably appeared awkward as hell.

“Just a nip. You don’t have to put your fangs all the way in.” He catches you when you almost fall, gripping his bicep for stability.

“Do you hear yourself right now?”

“Yes. Do you?” You sit down on the comforter and he helps you pull off your pants, tossing them aside. Miguel doesn’t say anything for a while when he hands you your pajamas then stops, helping you put them on. You steal a kiss and he chuckles, despite wanting to seem serious earlier.

“You really want me to take a bite?”

You bat your eyelashes, “Por favor, mi amor.”

He rolls his eyes and tells you to lie down. You do so, pushing down your excitement. Miguel hovers above you and you wonder about the new position. Usually he cradles you in his lap when he bites you. This time he’s over you, observing your frame in your pjs. Red eyes dragging amongst your body. The way he stares at you makes you bite your lip.

Your breaths get heavier as he leans down and kisses your lips. A gentle peck with the taste of your drink still on your lips. He places another kiss on your cheek, right under your eyes. Then one on your jaw. One on your chin. Another on your throat.

His mouth opens, fangs unleashed against your neck. Right above your pulse. You place a tight grip on his forearm to brace for impact. A silent cry escapes you once he punctures your skin. Not of pain but pleasure. You pull him closer to have more of his body weight on you, trapping you under him. The venom coursing your veins makes your eyes roll back. Air struggles to escape your lungs and you wanted more.

The attempt to pull him even closer was futile. Miguel’s fangs don't linger in you for too long, not wanting to overdose you. You’re dazed when he pulls away, quickly grabbing some bandages and a damp cloth. As always he wipes the blood from your neck with care before placing the bandage on you.

Miguel holds you close when you two relax in bed and you want to tell him you love him. You hope the kind gaze in your eyes was more than enough.

“I love you too.”

A/N: Let's all pretend this is under 1000 words.

[tomurawr44]

hcs about bathing with tomu 🛀🫧

A/N: i think this is a funimate sketch...

Warnings: nsfw

He didn't get in the shower and stayed stinky forever end of story.

(Bad ending)

trying to convince Tomura to take a bath with you especially when he gets that gamer groove on his chair is like trying to get a fish to walk, it's impossible.

taking a shower is a different one though, you'll have to lure him in with the premise of shower sex, yes you will have to jack him off.

he does like the feeling of showering, it helps calm his itches and sometimes it soothes the burning sting from when he claws at his neck.

but bathing? he doesn't really like it, not in the dingy and small bathtub, but if he feels really stressed out, i.e he vommits, he will want to have Kurogiri run a bath for him.

he won't tell Kurogiri that he wants it though, he will just stare blankly and sadly at him while he tries to guess what Tomura wants.

he'll point and ask to several things before the dots in his head click, throughout the years he can tell now by just the way Tomura slouches.

back to you and Tomura though...he would like bathing more if they had a bigger tub, but right now he's okay having you in his lap while you two stew in human soap soup.

he loves it when you wash his hair, he is kind of a freak and will sometimes let out a moan that didn't need to be that loud just to entice you.

and since the bubbles cover up the water, he will touch you. carefully though.

he loves grabbing your body when your wet, he loves seeing the shine, and it just makes him happy that you're..close to him.

If you have big boobs, he will play with them, not even sexually, and he was so surprised when they didn't float.

"Hey what the hell? are your tits like...defective or something?"

Imagine yourself as Kurogiri hearing your son young master discussing with his s/o on why he's confused huge titties do infact not float.

Kurogiri has unfortunately heard the weird shower discussions you two have.

anyway, there have been some occasions where Tomura falls asleep in the bathtub with you, and when he wakes up he has a pout on his face that he doesn't know he's doing and it's so cute.

when he's drunk or tipsy thats when you can convince him to shower, under the guise of sobering up.

he has asked you to cockwarm him while he sits and stews after a long day of being a loser.

your loser is now clean, good for you, and him.

(Good ending)