#homeless reader

[devihollow]

i have the first 2 chapters of a marble hornets x GN (gender neutral) Reader written down somewhere. Would that interest ya’ll?

(I don’t write romance or NSFW)

(Reader is homeless and living in Rosswood Park btw)

[jupitervega]

hi everyone. we're alive & sheltered tonight thanks to the generosity of some dear friends, but we've still got a long road ahead of us to find permanent residence. still sloggin thru the disability appeal for my partner over a year on, & although we've filled out beaucoup applications for subsidized housing we've been told to prepare to wait 6 months to a year for an openin. until i'm recognized by the state as my partner's caretaker, i'm still caretakin full time completely unpaid. we cain't get into a shelter together without lyin that we're not a couple, & we're still likely to be separated. considerin my partner's myriad needs i cannot be separated from them for long periods of time.

the cheapest motels in town (that don't require additional $100 deposit) are abt $75-80 a night during the week, & close to $90 on weekends. we're scrapin up every penny we can doin online market surveys but that's only good for abt $10 a day apiece if we really really grind.

we are quite desperate for help. my partner & i both read tarot, & we're thrilled to offer to read yr cards if y'all like. if yr in the denver metro, get in touch if u need yr kitchen cleaned or weeds pulled or whatever i can manage. we have paypal/venmo/cashapp if anyone feels so inclined to help.

anything y'all can spare helps keep us alive.

paypal: jupitervega

venmo: jupitervega

cashapp: jupitervega

thanks for readin, please share, stay hydrated in this heat (southern hemisphere, stay warm) 💙

[ddarker-dreams]

Could I humbly ask for some chrollo crumbs please? 🙏 🙏🙏

"This sucks."

"Mm."

"Really, really sucks."

"You did give me that impression."

Chrollo nurses a flute of champagne while you take tentative sips of your own concoction. White rum, grenadine, and what you think may have been orange juice mixed with a lime wedge on the rim. Waiters walk to and fro with appetizers, ranging from pork belly to oysters. You make a face as one of tonight's guest hands their trash to one of the unfortunate workers, despite there being a trashcan two feet away.

"Not that I'm advocating for murder," you quickly add, to which Chrollo raises an eyebrow. "... Maybe something softer in that general area, though."

"Torture?" Chrollo suggests.

You stop mid-sip to prevent yourself from choking. "No, not that either!"

"Morality sounds awfully inconvenient."

This earns him a punch in the shoulder.

"Why am I here, anyway?" You sigh. "I can't blend in with these types. Y'know, don't look now, but that lady by the fondue— hey, I said don't look— she struck up a conversation with me about her properties. Plural. Said that a homeless encampment is bringing the value of one down. What do you even say to that? 'Thoughts and prayers?'"

"I thought it'd do you some good to get out, is all," Chrollo sets his now empty glass down on a waiter's empty trey. You stare at him expectantly until he tells them 'thank you.' "And it's always a treat to see you get all dolled up."

You ignore that last bit. "Does it not bother you? Seeing all these leeches flaunting their wealth, when you grew up the way you did?"

He shrugs. "Targets are target; I make no distinction between those you consider 'innocent' or 'guilty.'"

"... 'Targets?'"

"In a strictly metaphorical sense."

"Dear god," you pinch the bridge of your nose. "I should pull the fire alarm or something."

"Without an actual fire present? My criminality must be rubbing off on you."

"There are levels to these things."

"You missed your chance to be a defense attorney. I'd have liked to see you defend me."

"Hah! I'd be rolling the electric chair out of storage just for you."

"And you wonder why I brought you along," Chrollo smiles. "Who else am I going to have these enlightening conversations with, if not you? It makes the evening fly by. Hm? Where do you think you're headed? I had the fire alarms deactivated in advance, don't even bother."

[millenniallust4death]

On April 22, the Supreme Court is set to hear the case of Johnson v. Grants Pass, the most significant case in decades about homeless people’s rights. The case will determine whether cities can arrest or fine the homeless — even if there’s no other shelter. As the homeless plaintiffs wrote, this would be “punishing the city’s involuntarily homeless residents for their existence.”

Mark Horvath, Adam Westbrook, and Lindsay Crous in "Criminalizing Homelessness Won’t Make It Go Away". The New York Times (16 April 2024). Link here.

The city of Grants Pass in Oregon wants to make being homeless a crime in order to drive the homeless into other areas. I am so tired.

[snail-day]

Yandere homeless! Nanami who lost everything and I mean everything. His savings, his suits, even his precious 401k, gone, all thanks to some guy named Chad on r/wallstreetbets who swore up and down that this new crypto currency was going to the moon. Now the only moon Nanami sees is the one in the mirror when he turns around in your kitchen. Because yes. He’s naked. He had to sell the clothes off his back for “liquidity.”

You’re buying his foreclosed house, technically. Legally. It was listed. It’s yours now. But unfortunately, Nanami has “too much pride” to sleep on the streets, so he’s been squatting in what’s now your home. You show up with the rest of your ragtag crew of clingy, delusional, down-bad men and find him, lounging on a stack of finance magazines, perhaps remnants of his former dignity.

Suguru hisses at him from the stairs like the street cat he pretends to be now. Teeth bared, bald head simmering, little kitten ears from the daiso down the road sticking up. You reach out to pat his soft kitten ears, the only thing that calms him anymore. He grumbles and nuzzles into your palm anyway.

Satoru’s foaming at the mouth in the background. Literally frothing. Maybe it’s rabies. Maybe it’s toothpaste. Or maybe he got into the trash again and found an expired Mentos pack and chewed on it for enrichment. Who knows. Nothing will kill that pup.

Nanami smiles. Calm. Serene. Naked. Stretching like a bride across your mattress. He offers himself to you like a wedding gift. “I can be the husband you never had,” he murmurs, voice deep, as if the lack of fabric makes him more emotionally available.

You try to change the locks.

But they always end up jammed. Broken. Unchanged. And Nanami’s always back inside. Slipping beneath your covers in the middle of the night, ignoring your feral yanderes, his body completely bare, radiating debt and desperate affection.

At this point, you're just grateful he’s willing to babysit the other yanderes while you pack for next week’s trip. It’s not like you can bring them all to visit yandere yak farmer Choso who has offered to give your yanderes a free home in trade for labor. Only if you come visit him first. (And pay off his loans, those yak chew for dogs aren't selling too well these days but he also doesn't understand Amazon. Honestly, it's complicated.)

And you know what?

Somehow, this whole situation is still better than your ex.

[steeiydan]

funny how like internationally, left leaning people are like "paying by card is good, but it's a bad idea to get rid of cash because multiple payment options are more accessible. tips, pocket money and giving homeless people money also is better with cash" meanwhile some german left leaning people want to go cash-less only because ???? i dont know

[avcdgrdn]

── .✦ [ FIC ]: can i really stay here? [ part three ]

[ part one & part two ]

mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader

tags: fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

word count: 1765

˙✧˖° ༘ ⋆｡˚

he was so obviously staring at you.

it was a crisp fall morning, and a light sweat formed on your brow as you swept the floor by the front desk. you’d been at it for a while, and about halfway through, stan had meandered down the stairs and happened to see you. presently, he was casually leaning against the wall, and you could feel his eyes on your back.

there were moments where you’d turn your head in his direction, and he would jolt and quickly look the other way. you rolled your eyes amusedly, wondering what he could be thinking of.

after a moment of thought, you spoke up, your gaze still focused on the broom in your hands. “so, whatcha doin’, stan?”

there was nobody else in the lobby, so he didn’t really have a good excuse to pull out of his back pocket. he looked up, drumming his fingers against the wall. “uhhh … nothin’. what’s it to ya?”

“you know, you can come closer if you want to.” you shook your head, chuckling. the broad-built man sighed in defeat, pushing himself off of the wall and walking over to lean against the front desk instead.

as you continued to sweep, he pursed his lips, fidgeting with the edge of his t-shirt. “hey, uh. i been thinkin’.”

you gave him a glance over your shoulder. “yeah?”

one of his hands wandered up to his shaggy mullet, tugging absentmindedly at chocolate brown hairs. “well, i’ve been stayin’ with you for a few days now … and i really appreciate your help. i … i’m still tryin’ ta think of ways to make a buck, but … a–anyway, what’s i’m saying is—”

he stammered, blushing faintly as he averted his gaze. it was frustratingly difficult to be so open and honest.

“ … is–is there any way i could help you out? since i’m not payin’ at all …”

you straightened, turning to fully face him. his desire to settle his debt was endearing, but you knew in your heart that he really didn’t owe you anything. you wanted him to have someone to watch out for him, someone to care about him.

someone to … love him.

“i really appreciate it, but it’s okay.” you grinned, warm with compassion.

stan blinked, and he suddenly found that his heart was aching in his chest again. just as it had at the diner, as it had when he took that key from your hand …

his square jaw clenched shut as your genuine empathy pierced into him like daggers.

“please.”

he almost sounded desperate.

“i, uh. i just don’t like ta feel useless.”

after studying his expression for a moment, your smile softened.

“okay.” swiftly, you extended the broom towards him, raising your brows. “wanna finish sweeping in the lobby? i can start on the dusting.”

immediately, he lit up. “alright, angel. i’ll sweep this place so good, you’d never guess that anyone’s set foot in it.”

taking hold of the broomstick, the brunet got to work, happily gathering dust bunnies, crumbs, and random bits of trash that various customers had left behind. you rummaged around in the supply closet for the duster, pulling it out and starting to clean up different decorative objects and shelftops.

the soft music emanating from the record player served to create a peaceful atmosphere. occasionally, one or two patrons would pass through, but for the most part, it was quiet.

after you’d taken care of all the dusty surfaces in the room, you put the duster away, lighting a pumpkin spice scented candle and carefully placing it on a table in the center of the lobby.

“hmm ... wow, that’s nice.” stan hummed, clearly affected by the calming aroma.

“i know, right? i love having this scent in the fall–”

you stopped abruptly upon seeing the perfectly clean floors. it couldn’t have been more than fifteen minutes, and yet all of it was spotless.

“wow, stan, you made quick work of that! good job!”

stanley puffed out his chest, clearly smug and quite proud of himself, like a small child showing you a drawing they had worked hard on. “i told you. ain’t i helpful?”

“you’re a huge help, thank you.”

he hadn’t been praised like this in so long. he was practically glowing at this point.

“so, er … what else can i help ya with?” he stepped closer to you, hands on his hips.

you racked your brain in an attempt to think of what else needed to get done around the inn. “oh, i know. a shipment arrived for us earlier today, but they’re both heavy boxes that i can’t quite move on my own. would you w–”

“I’M ON IT! lead the way, sweetheart!”

“o–okay–” you led him around to the back to collect the packages, trying so hard not to let his pet names affect you. nonetheless, you were blushing like an idiot.

next thing you knew, you were watching him carry two heavy boxes with ease, one on each arm. he had rolled up his jacket sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms.

… it’s fall, right? it’s not supposed to be this hot in here.

“where to, toots?” he grunted, arching a brow.

“uh … the storage room. this way.” you were avoiding eye contact as much as possible. everything about this guy was attractive right now.

oh God, don’t let me die yet…

after the contents of the boxes were successfully unloaded and put away, the two of you sat at the kitchen bar, helping yourselves to the lunch that your chef had made. stan ate enthusiastically, probably in the best mood that you’d ever seen him in. why that was, exactly, you weren’t sure—you were too overwhelmed to figure it out. there was just something about the way he looked at you that was making you silently freak out.

i know that he’s been calling me names even since we first met. it seems like it’s just a thing that he does with everyone … but lately, they really don’t feel like just names.

i don’t know. am i going crazy? i might be. and yet …

chewing on a mouthful of rice, you snuck a sideways peek at the man beside you, admiring his chiseled jaw and dark brown hair. that is, until he caught you looking, and you nearly choked on your food.

“what? ‘s there somethin’ on my face?” he chuckled, his tone taunting.

“i, uh, i thought there might’ve been–but you’re fine. no worries.” bullcrap.

“hah, whatever you say.”

you continued to eat in silence. your fork was slipping in your hand.

just great. my palms are sweating.

this … hasn’t happened to you since high school. butterflies and blushing suddenly clouded your brain whenever he was close to you. how did it even start? he just walked into your life, and …

you were so lost in your thoughts, you didn’t process stan calling your name for the third time in a row. it wasn’t until he put his hand on your shoulder that you snapped out of it.

“gh– huh?” your face was redder than a cherry tomato.

“hey, you alright? yer actin’ all spacey.” he was evidently concerned this time. “how many fingers am i holdin’ up?”

“f–four.” you exhaled, rubbing your temples with one hand. “i’m fine, just lost in thought, is all. thanks, stan.” you offered a small smile as you fought the raging butterflies in your stomach.

stan nodded in understanding, gently taking his hand off your shoulder.

“okay, just lemme know if you need anything.”

with that, he took care of his plate, rinsing it off in the sink before making his way up to his room. your chef walked into the kitchen, shooting you a look as you handed him your half-full plate.

“sorry, i don’t think i can eat any more. i’m feeling … nauseous.”

it was around six o’clock in the evening now, and you sat up in your personal living room on the very top floor of the inn, falling deeper and deeper into your thoughts.

do i … really like him that much?

am i in love?

you tangled your fingers into your hair, hunching over slightly.

but … so quickly? i’ve only known him for a number of days. is that a thing that happens!?

what if he doesn’t like me back? what if he flirts with everyone? what if he thinks i’m weird for liking him? does he know i like him?

just then, you heard a knocking on your door.

oh.

heart thudding violently in your chest, you swallowed your anxiety, standing up from your sofa to find out who it could be. you turned the doorknob, letting it swing open.

the first thing you saw was a beautiful bouquet of red tulips.

your gaze trailed up to find stanley’s broad figure, dressed in slacks and a flattering button-up top. he had pulled his hair back into a ponytail, although a few stray hairs remained out of place.

his brown eyes met your own, and your breath hitched in your throat.

“hey. listen, uh … these are for you, first of all.” he handed the bouquet to you, which you mindlessly accepted, being unable to look away from his face.

“i … wanted t’ properly say thank you. lettin’ me stay here has helped me get my mind right ‘nd allowed me to think about the important things.”

he took a breath.

“and, well … i figured out that you’re real important to me. so. i–i was wonderin’ if you’d wanna grab dinner tonight?”

“… dinner?”

“y–yeah, like a date–”

your cheeks flushed a dark shade of red, matching the tulips you held in your arms.

stan tripped over his words, staring at the floor. “and i, uh—i understand if you’re not interested–”

“no! i mean, yes! yes, i’m–i’m very interested.” you rushed to answer him, not fully realizing that a gleeful smile had broken out onto your expression. “i just … wow …”

he laughed, beaming with joy as he realized that the answer was yes. “oh, damn, i didn’t actually expect to get this far…!” gently, he scooped you into a snug embrace, lifting you off of your feet slightly. “thank you, angel.”

“... anything for you.” you murmured in reply, hugging him back for a sweet moment before the two of you stepped apart. “let me just get ready, then.”

“sounds good, doll. i’ll be waitin’ downstairs.”

and just like that, the door was shut, and you were left to stare at the red tulips in your hands.

end

[ part four ]

author's note:

screaming into a pillow kicking my feet giggling

i wrote this one so fast somehow ??? i had a vision

if you wanna be added to the tag list for updates, lmk!

tag list: @icouldntthinkofanythingclever @seahorrorz @blustalker @hay-needle @phanmai1002 @samanthastarss @bumblingbriars @arya-eats-chips @bihexualandferal @hello-i-like-owls @blurryface505 @ryethebrokengae

[holorform2009]

Emmet liked you verrrrrry much! You are so adorable he can't help but scoop you up in his hands.

Ingo, ever the frowny man he is, narrows his eyes. What happened to your leg?

[littlenerdybee]

Hello friends, I need your help.

Yesterday, 04/04/24, I became homeless; I don’t have a home anymore.

I only have my car, luckly, so that’s where I’m staying with my cat.

I’m currently in my first year of university but I’m going to drop out soon as I can’t afford to pay the fees. I’m looking for a new job, of course, but as of right now I don’t have enough money to do anything about my situation.

I will not share my exact location for safety reasons but I will tell you that I'm living in my car near a gym so as not to be isolated. Physically I am fine, emotionally not really but it doesn't matter.

I’m asking for your help because I don’t know what else to do. I have some links in my bio, if you can donate anything, even just one euro is going to make the difference.

And if you can't donate, please at least share this post or my links. Thank you so much, I appreciate every single one of you.

(Please forgive me for using the tags improperly but I'm trying to reach as many of you as possible, as well as my mutuals).

[aughhay]

ohma didn’t really care about the free bed of yours to sleep on tonight. but hey, he heard it’s good manners to gift something back.

nsfw warning!

“mn, oh—mn.. ngh..”

your hands kept clutching deep in the sheets, not any help to your body violently rocking to the bed’s creaky rhythm. ohma wasn’t gonna stop anytime soon, he just wanted to show you how grateful he could be, really! the feeling of your tight, gushing, pretty pink walls just keep pulling him in. his muscular body shadowed over yours, facing your back as he took you from behind with his arms caging your head. you just couldn’t keep control of your self, his manly cock fucking you dumb for the first time as you spew your moans into a pillow.

you wish you could see his face, but you’re just too busy trying not to cum so soon. his grunts and groans will have to do.

“hah.. hah.. hunn..”

you can hear his mighty huffs and puffs as he sits back. the only thing audible are your whimpers when his well-endowed cock slips out of your slick hole. the headboard stops beating on the wall only for a second before his hands are on you, flipping you over on your stomach.

he’s touching you where ever, any place. your soft chest, those cute tits he can’t get enough of just keep being squeezed and groped. he’s just too in love with them, so in love that he forgets everything until he hears your whines and whimpers.

“ohmaaa. back in.. put yr’cock back in..”

“hm?”

“n—need you back inside..”

“…louder.”

first time he ever asked for something in that tone, actually, he wasn’t asking, he was telling you. telling you to be louder so he can see that the woman in front of him really needed him, really needed his body. he needed to see the proof. to see why he should be so thankful.

“shit— fu-fuck m’again ohma.. pleasee don’t tease m’like this.. need that cum..”

you were getting so desperate at this point, so needy for his dick. his cock-head sliding against your folds, giving your sweet hole gooey kisses with his tip. your hips grinding and moving, trying any method to get him back inside. and ohma is just watching, watching the girl that gave him a place to sleep tonight writhe and whine for his cock on that same bed.

but ohma doesn’t have that much of a good patience, he breaks as he finally pushes back inside you with a groan. back to that quick pace inside you with the headboard punching the wall and his cock throbbing again and again inside. you can tell he’s close to climax.

“nghn—.. where?”

“h-huh?”

“where do you want me t’cum?”

“i—inside m’pussy.. pl—please.”

even if ohma didn’t believe a higher power, he thanked them that he wouldn’t have to pull from your warm canal as he continued to pound you. ohma wasn’t the wittiest, but he could tell you were close too. the way you flicked and caressed that pretty clit of yours to your liking, your moans shooting towards him with every vibration.

“ohmaa..”

“‘m gonna cum.. ngnh!— cumming!”

you can tell that cry of his name sent him over the edge, his seed flooding you with a howl as you squirmed. you were now filled with ohma. his breaths heavy as he panted from above. staring into your seemingly hazy eyes.

“..thanks— gnh..”

not the right time for words, but the way your pussy flutters around his cock, he’ll take that as an ‘you’re welcome’.

[jayzioxx]

Cuz i cant sleep... some slight angst following up this and this fic isn't the follow up from the poll im just sleep deprived and sad

Also WARNINGGG ooc soft emotionally ✨️mature✨️ wanderer~

Wanderer who tries to atone for his past sins realized how much he's broken [name] throughout the years. [Name] who was undeniably loyal and trustworthy, [name] who nearly gave his life away to help him reach godhood.

"You..." Wanderer muttered as he looked at [name] who was fast asleep on the sofa in his living room. He wondered if he should bring a blanket to cover that scrawny, malnourished body resting so peacefully, but he couldn't take his eyes off the bruises, cuts, and old battle scars littering the skin of those once strong limbs.

"Idiot. Nothing would have changed even if you died for me." He thought. And he was so glad that didn't happen. He couldn't have lived with himself if he caused pain for another he loved.

Wanderer's cold fingers traced around a healing wounds on [name]'s face, which was one of the many he'd gained during his final battle fought as the right-hand man of a fatui harbinger, likely from when he foolishly intercepted the rough attacks from the traveler just to buy some more time for Scaramouche.

Wanderer absentmindedly continued to carass his scarred skin, not noticing how [name] was waking from his afternoon nap.

"Sorry." He croaked, bringing a thin hand up to rub his tired eyes. "It was warm. I didn't mean to fall asleep here."

Wanderer felt a pang through his heart (despite not having one). He'd gained a lot of emotions and grew to feel things during the months he spent under Nahida and at the akademia, but [name] had only spent 3 days in this new setting after roaming around homeless for so long.

Wanderer didn't realize how lucky he was in that aspect, for being given a chance to overcome his past when his counterpart was suffering the entire time.

"Lord Scaramou- Forgi- Sorry, Wanderer." [Name] spoke, stuttering to correct his words as he was still struggling to adapt to his new life. "You were zoning out."

He was. He only noticed how much he had been thinking over things when [name] pointed it out.

[Name] was still laying on his side on the sofa with Wanderer's hand on his cheek, staring at Wanderer's face with his sleepy eyes.

The puppet moved his hand from [name]'s face to his back to gently help him sit up. Truth be told, Wanderer was scared. The man in front of him was far too thin and far too weak. Almost to the point he would fracture at a light breeze.

Without a word, Wanderer got up and went to make some tea, and the other sat perfectly still, eyes unmoving, not even turning his head. He almost seemed like a porcelain doll.

When Wanderer got back, [name] sat in the same position he had been, faced the same direction, with only his eyes following the one who had just come back from the kitched and placed a warm cup of tea in his hands.

"He's like a doll." Thought Wanderer, which only made him feel more upset. He knew he shouldn't be frustrated, that he was the one responsible, but he just wished that [name] would at least move his head a bit more, or maybe shift in his seat. Act a bit more alive.

Or, at the very least, not act like he was living dead.

"Hey." Wanderer said, carefully choosing his words and speaking as gently as he could. [Name] had a slightly uncomfortable look on his face, seemingly confused with how to respond.

"You can respond however you'd like to. Or dont if you don't feel like it." Wanderer spoke softly, noting [name]'s discomfort. [Name] just smiled, a bit relieved. He found it a bit strange to see Scaramouche so... kind.

"I'm not Scaramouche." Wanderer said. He looked apologetic.

"I won't be either." He felt like his words didn't get through to [name], but the sunken look on [name]'s face told him how much impact his words had.

"I'm sorry." He finally apologized. He didn't exactly understand why he was apologizing, all he knew was that there was a lot to say sorry for.

"If you're not him, then why are you apologizing."

[Name]'s words stung like salt on a fresh wound.

"Because I stopped being him without considering you."

Wanderer couldn't stop the bitter tears falling from the other's eyes. He seemed to have a knack for making him cry. Scaramouche's strongest general and the broken human marionette wanderer picked up.

"I'm sorry for how I used you."

...

"I'm sorry for how it broke you."

...

"I'm-" Wanderer choked."...I'm sorry for not telling you I loved you when it mattered the most."

He wasn't crying. He had much better control over his feelings than [name]. But being unable to stop [name]'s tears made him feel as helpless as he felt when he was first abandoned.

The tea had become cold and untouched, and Wanderer gently took the teacup from the other one's hands and placed it aside, engulfing him in as warm a hug he could provide. [Name] too allowed his skinny frame to be held as he quietly sniffled.

For the first time in a long, long time, both Wanderer and [name] felt as normal and human as the rest.

Meanwhile nahida accidentally spying on then through whatever weird magic she's got crying her eyes out with kaveh who's crying cuz he saw nahida crying so now the two of them dont know why the other is crying and they're crying togerther because of that.

Al haitham in the back wondering what the 🦆is going on...

[saeun]

BOO! gotcha~ gojo satoru.

sum. he meticulously planned the night out, she was busy with her routine. ( basically gojo trying to be bold and manly but the bold and manly doesnt want to be him )

"BABE! COME QUICK — NOW!"

voice louder than ever, gojo's curled into a ball, on the couch, diverting his eyes everywhere but the tv screen. it was movie night — or so it was supposed to be. you left him alone in the creeping dark. left him all alone to tend to your nighttime routine.

you see, truth be told, he's absolutely terrified of horrors. the setting, the music, the jumpscares, the plot — everything. poor gojo wanted to be a romantic "i'm here for you," man for his girl but it seems like that plan is screwed! he does not have a plan b in mind. there was one sole plan and it didn't consider the possibility of him being scared shitless.

you both decided on having a horror marathon. as the month of halloween dawns closer, it's only fitting to watch horror-themed stuff, right? not quite. there's one person who's covering their eyes with the blanket every time it gets intense and it's no one other than gojo satoru.

the plan was picture-perfect:

a) get the scariest horror movie.

b) watch to see when you're scared.

c) put his arms around you, bring you into his body, and whisper, "it's okay, don't fear."

d) become your knight in shining armor.

clearly, this plan was not properly thought out. he's shivering in fear, waiting for his knight in shining armor to save him from the misery — and also from the thought of some demon waiting to jump at him from behind the tv.

the movie's soundtrack quiets, only the character's hesitating footsteps towards the locked room can be heard. as they walk closer, the door creaks open. nothing's in the room..? "that's... strange," they whispered, stepping into the room with their oil-based lamp. the camera pans to the left: nothing suspicious. it pans to the right: nothing out of the ordinary. it goes back to the center and—

"FUCK no," gojo turns the tv off. he knew what was about to come, and he wasn't going to sit through it.

suddenly, as if the saying of art mimics real life comes true, he hears the same hesitating footsteps. strange, the tv's off. absolutely not, he thinks, balling up the blanket ready to leave. fastening his steps to the front door, he grabs the keys off the counter. the keys have gone in the keyhole, and so did a hand on gojo's shoulder.

he freezes. body gone stiff. breathing halted. heartbeat intensifies. what the fuck.

"babe? where are you going?" you questioned, confused as to why gojo's ready to sneak out in pajamas and a blanket.

gojo doesn't respond. he's watched that movie for long enough to realize it doesn't have to be you who's talking.

however, it is you, and you're very confused. after finishing your routine, you came down to watch the movie with him only to be met with a mess of popcorn, tv off, and a missing gojo.

"babe? you alright?" you questioned again, this time grabbing him with both hands and turning him to face you.

"who are you?" it's his turn to question. you look like you, but are you really you? a question that only makes sense to the man himself.

"i'm y/n, duh."

"then prove it," he demands. if it's truly his beloved, he knows how she'd react.

hands on hip, your face twisted into a mix of confusion, deadpan, and slightly amused. "what are you on about, satoru?"

"oh my god you're an imposter," his conclusion makes him turn back to the door, frantically twisting the keys to unlock the barrier that keeps him from safety.

without looking back, he walked out the door, tripping on himself as he sought his safety. all you can do is shrug. he'll be back in two minutes maximum.

[snail-day]

Tw: Yandere, Crack fic, mentions of blood and a knife, pet play??? Pathetic gojo?

Yandere Homeless! Gojo, who’s clearly unwell but also painfully pretty under all the dirt and grime. He’s practically vibrating with excitement when you finally open the front door of your apartment, pupils blown wide like he’s been waiting his whole life for this moment.

“Oh my god,” he gasps. “You’re even prettier up close. You’re so cute. Can I be your dog?”

You blink. “What?”

“Please,” he’s panting now, genuinely, looks like he's about to go on all fours. “I’ll be so good. I’ll sit at your feet, I’ll eat scraps, I’ll sleep on the floor, I’ll bark when strangers come near - fuck, I’ll even wear a collar if you want me to - that's hot as fuck. With a leash too - ”

“Absolutely not,” you say, already trying to close the door.

But he jams his foot in. Bare foot. Disgustingly wet from god-knows-what. “Pleasepleaseplease don’t send me away,” he whines, baby blue eyes darting to look inside your apartment. “I can protect you! I’ve got instincts, baby. I bite.”

He smiles. Too many teeth. Far too many for your liking.

You back up. “Okay. So I’m calling the cops.”

But before you can reach for your phone, he lifts his foot.

He’s standing on it. Your phone. It’s already under him. Cracked. You really don't know how. Unless he planned it all.

“Oh,” he coos, looking down. “Oopsie.”

You look at the knife in his hand. It’s… not clean.

He notices you staring and tilts his head. “You don’t have to be scared. That’s not your blood.”

“That’s not helping.”

“Want it to be?” he chirps, and then, he giggles. A full giggle. Like this is date night and you’re playing hard to get.

You’re frozen. Half in fight or flight. Calculating your next move, yet somehow he's tall enough to block your entire exit.

He steps fully into your home, whistling under his breath. “So, where do I put my dog bed? Or do I just curl up under your bed like a good little mutt?”

You don’t know what to say as he's backing you into a corner. Beaming. Reaching for your face and you're almost certain you're going to die here.

This is what he looks like btw:

[skeletonapricationday]

Even more spicy David Headcannons

Here's the first one

I forgot how fun headcannons were, especially smutty ones. My David kink is never ending. I know I legit posted minutes ago but IDGAF!

He's so twitchy, he can't help it. His thighs jump and jolt, his fingers clench and twitch, his head can't decide which direction its going with every wave of pleasure. His twitchy self is all over the place. Sometimes you just gotta hold the man down. (He loves being pinned anyway.)

He is so touchy. The only time he pulls your hair is on accident, when his needy hands find there way on your head during a blowjob. Sometimes he'll tug you when he doesn't feel you're close enough when he's doing you from behind. He'll grip his hands onto your back while you ride him, making it impossible to pull away from him. This twink has needy strength!

Speaking of blowjobs, he doesn't exactly know his stance on them. They feel incredible, and he enjoys the closeness. Yet, at the same time he hates making you swallow. You're very adamant about it, especially since he's such a healthy eater, you enjoy it. At the same time he would be disheartened if you spit, so there's no winning. He'll always accept one, but it isn't the first thing that comes to mind when he thinks about getting freaky with you.

Now, on the other hand he loves 69ing. It's the best of both worlds to him. It's harder to think about the guilt of you swallowing his unborn children when his tongue is busy. Plus if he cums prematurely he still has his mouth to work you. He loves the way your wetness drips down onto his face and the way you taste, that added onto the pleasure of your mouth wrapped around his cock- there's nothing better. Well, expect actual sex of course.

His tongue is always busy, and I mean busy. He has an obsession with giving rather than receiving. Something about the way you coo and praise him, the way you moan. He loves when your toes curl, when your thighs turn into earmuffs, and being practically waterboarded by your wetness. If he hasn't made you cum once from shoving his tongue inside you during a sexual rendezvou, he has failed. And Davy ain't no quitter. It goes on and on if you don't stop him, so watch out.

David doesn't enjoy being tied up. He hates not being able to run his hands all over you. Wether its having a death grip on your ass, thighs, or even your waist he wants it. He worships you from top to bottom, and that's hard to do with his hands tied. Now, he has found out on the other hand he enjoys tying you up. He still isn't the most dominant when he does, but he does get revenge for all those "one more" s you've given him.

David gains more confidence in the bedroom over time, which is natural for most relationships but when you say confidence you mean it. The more sure he is that he can make you orgasm, the more excited he is for the session. When you taught him how to properly finger you (hes not a virgin, just none of his exes talked him through it), he kept asking you to be his test dummy for weeks. Hes quite the quick learner. Once he learned the basics he became utterly focused on mastering them, and he has. Which has lead to his sexual confidence, at least towards you.

David comes with a nasty habit. He anxiously bites his bottom lip, always leaving it sore and red. This upsets you since he's got such a pretty mouth. He does this in and out of the bedroom. You basically have to shove your fingers in his mouth to make him stop, which has awakened a whole new kink within him. He's started doing it on purpose just so he can feel your dominant hand stop him and fingers press on the bottom of his tongue. Something about the weight and intimacy of it turns him on.

This boy just can't stop saying please. He's so polite even when he's asking to cum. It's such a cute habit of his. "Please let me cum." "Please, you're so tight. I can't do it." "Baby, please." He finds a new use for the word every time you fuck.

He sure knows how to beg. Davy has started looking for the keywords you like the most in bed. Learning what to plead for and what to subtlety demand. You haven't even noticed it over time but his every word is catered to your needs and lust. Oh mommy can't he cum early just this once?

Oh yes he says mommy, look at that cute little face. He just wants to babied every once in a while. Let him lay back with a goofy grin on his face covered in wetness as he patiently waits for more from his mommy. David doesn't say it often cause it makes him feel emrbassed, but when he gets really into it, it just slips out. You first learned about his mommy kink on accident. He was pumping deep inside of you squeezing his eyes shut with an agape mouth on the brink of an orgasm when it slipped. When he said his first mommy you couldn't help but make him cum again and again, hearing it was so cute!

David has no problem exploring any interesting kinks or fetishes you have. He makes you deal with his (you do more than just deal, you enjoy), so of course he'd willingly try yours. Wether its a night when he ends up blindfolded and covered in wax, or a more subtle fetish like spitting into his mouth, he'll try it. Getting you off gets him off. He's a pleasure bottom all the way.

David isn't exactly packing. He isn't huge but he isn't small either. He's working with a perfect 6 inches, average across the board. It's not so big that it'll hurt or take too much preparation, but it's not so small that you don't feel a thing. Like a dirtier version of goldilocks you think his dick is just right.

The base starts out the color of his skin and slowly fades into a dusty pink. It's like the perfect shade to you. He's your multicolored fun stick. He isn't very veiny, he doesn't work out much afterall. His job is athletic enough (herding kids is cardio, for sure). And yes, the carpet does match the drapes.

[holorform2009]

Run, run dear reader.

You ran as fast as you can. Now you may start asking questions like— Why are you running? Who is chasing you? What is going on?

Well.

To answer your question.

You stole a man's wallet.

No. No! Don't you dare ask question on that one! Remember, our dear Y/N over there is homeless.

So don't blame the poor child. Okay?

Now back to our poor reader.

You pushed some people away and mutter an apology when you heard them cursed under their breath.

You can hear the man shouted at you from behind. You needed him to be lost. Lost in a sea of crowded people, or find something that you can hide. Through slitted rectangle holes on your box mask, you saw a black hat and a conductor clothing. It's Ingo. Shouldn't Emmet be with ingo? That's rare.

A light bulb appeared on top of your head as you suddenly have an idea to make the man lose a sight on you.

You quickly ran up to Ingo and harshly tug on his long coat in a hurry manner catching his attention, Ingo looked down at you as he raised his brow.

"Is something the matter, child?" He noticed your panicked movements as you then suddenly grab his long coat, opening it wide and hides inside.

A man came to him and asked frantically if he saw a kid with a box on their head. Realizing your situation, he lied to the man by saying "They went that way." And pointed to the wrong direction. The man thanked him and quickly walked away in the false direction.

As soon as the man was gone, you came out of your hiding spot. "Who was that?" Ingo asked as he adjusted his hat a bit, his eyes hardened and his brow furrowed but not at you, It's actually to the man. What did he want from you? He wanted to asked you but prefer not to.

You looked at him in the eyes and shrugged innocently. As if you didn't steal the man's wallet....

He was about to ask you once more but you caught him off by giving him a quick hug to his side before darting away from Ingo. Is someone after you? He thought to himself.

". . . . ."

He will have to report this to Emmet about you.

[robo-writing]

Captain price brings home a stray (kidnapping, implied petplay dynamics, John being your caretaker of sorts)

John Price was never an animal person.

Animals don’t scare him, but while growing up the neighborhood kids would always seem to find a stray, run home with it and beg their parents to keep their new friend—cat, dog, maybe even a squirrel they found running in the backyard. His parents had no such troubles to worry about.

This persisted through adulthood, and being a Captain he especially couldn’t afford to keep a pet. Too much time away, too much responsibility. He could have the most independent animal and the poor thing would die in a week.

It was a surprise to him that he soon adopted a little bird.

He found it one day, after the rest of his team had already left. Alone and afraid, it had barely made a noise as he came closer, suddenly intrigued in the pitiful creature. It didn’t even make a single noise as he picked it up off the curb, the softest little sniffles escaping it.

His heart broke at the sight, something he never thought would happen. He brushed a thumb along its head, then brought it back to his truck where he placed it in a faded red blanket, then drove away. He placed the little wrapped up bird on his couch, offered it some food before stowing away for bed.

Not once was he worried that the bird would destroy his house while he slept, he was certain of that.

When he woke up, the bird was still there.

It looked as if it hadn’t moved an inch from where he placed it, the morning light shining right on top of it as it slept. It’s now that he could see the pretty thing in all its glory, albeit a tad dirty.

He taps the bird, softly chirping before awaking fully. It looks up at him with wide eyes, looking around before trying to inch towards the front door.

A futile attempt, as the moment it tries to fly away John grabs it, soothing the scared animal into a somewhat relaxed state.

“You’re alright now, you’re safe,” he mutters, large body overtaking your own. “My name’s John, I’ll be taking care of you from now on.”

Confused, you simply nod in response.