#b rabbit imagines

[luvm4thers]

B-Rabbit Headcanons:

prompt: Him being your boyfriend. 💗

⚠: slight nsfw and also fluff.

references to 8 mile.

(my first attempt at hcs, so i hope y'all like it ♡)

He would enjoy looking at you as you do things, such as cooking, reading, writing, or about anything. His eyes would always be locked on your body and face, worshipping you silently, as he feels lucky to have you by his side.

He loves your cute little nicknames, but ONLY if its you. You're the only person allowed to call him such things as "Cute little bunny", "My little rabbit", and similar. He would try to hide a smile as he blushes, clearing his throat. But even with all of that, you could clearly see how much he loves it.

His softer side would appear with you. Even if he's someone of few words, he would love to compliment you and give signs of affection whenever possible.

He loves grabbing your thighs and hips, as much as he loves caressing them and your entire body. He's all up for physical contact, and loves when you caress and touch him as well. He sometimes even craves for that, and even if he's too shy to ask for it, you provide, and his smile for you says it all.

He would love being flirty and playful with you, teasing you with simple but effective phrases which make you melt, all combined with his soft inviting voice and deep eyes looking directly onto yours.

He just loves being possessive and showing everyone that you're only his. Even if it takes shouting it out for the rest of the hood to know, he absolutely will. "This is my girl, y'all! Don't ever touch her, or I'll beat you the fuck up!"

He wouldn't hesitate to fight or beat up whoever that dares to lay a hand on you. And you better believe him, as he's another person completely once he lets himself go. But one thing is clear, he's here to protect you and let the rest know they can't touch what's his, and whoever does will know the consequences.

He would take you to meet his little sister, Lily. He would introduce you to her, as he knows you're the one and feels completely sure that he wants you to care for his sister as much as he does. He would say sweet things about you to her, explaining to Lily that "his brother is in love". Your heart would melt at the scene of it.

He would invite you to see all of his rap battles, you being his inspiration for becoming even better and winning every single one, as he wants to make you proud and win your heart even more. He would ask Future to leave a spot free for you closer to the stage, so you could see him better.

He would buy you flowers or something cute when he has the enough money for it. He wants to gift you whenever he can, even if its something simple. Or even freestyling for you, going as far as writing an over-the-top sweet rap for you.

[therealcocoshady]

Marshall being a boy dad ?? 👀👀

MARSHALL MATHERS BEING A BOY DAD HEADCANON

Author's Note : I love receiving requests for fics & HCs ❤️ You can definitely keep sending them my way 👀! Also to give you guys a quick update on Recovery : Chapter 34 is in the works but I have been working on a few different things for this blog so it's taking a little more time than expected ! 😅 That being said, I have many ideas for this fic and I think I have finally figured out the ending 👀. Going back to this HC, from what I see in my Ask, you guys are suckers for the whole Marshall Mathers being a Dad trope and I cannot blame you 🙊. Here I am, sharing what I think he would be like, being a boy dad - Let me know what you think !!!

This HC is my very own take on Marshall being a boy dad but, just in case you haven't read it - @theboujeestofboujee also wrote something similar that was absolutely adoralble "How He treats Your Son"

BEFORE THE BABY’S BIRTH 

Doesn’t matter if the baby is a boy or a girl : he is a big softie with his little one

After raising three girls, he is really overjoyed to have a son

Before finding out the gender, he swears he doesn’t care « As long as the baby is healthy, it doesn’t matter » 

BUT once he knows he is having a son ? So happy. 

He wasn’t really in a baby clothes frenzy for his daughters but for his son ? He might get a little carried away. 

His little one is definitely getting some cool baby sneakers and cute outfits 

Contrary to what a lot of people think and expect : he does NOT name his son Marshall Bruce Mathers IV 

He doesn’t want to pay homage to his own father 

He is not an egomaniac 

He doesn’t want his boy to be crushed by the weight of expectations - he knows it’s going to be hard enough when people know he is Eminem’s son 

For privacy reason, his son might use his mother’s name on a daily basis (just like his daughters went by Scott) 

Baby boy’s middle name might be Deshaun, in honor of Proof - one of the best men he has ever known 

Either Denaun or Royce is his son’s godfather 

BIRTH / AFTER THE BIRTH 

He takes time off before the end of the pregnancy - doesn't matter if he has to postpone a tour or an album : family first

Wouldn’t miss his son’s birth for the world 

He is happy his son takes a bit after him. But even more if he looks like his mother.

« Thank God he has your nose » 

OR « Jesus Christ… He has my ears. » 

He announces he is a Dad for the 4th time but he is intent on protecting his baby’s privacy - he has definitely learned a few lessons 

May not even do the announcement before the baby is a few months old 

Do not expect him to share pictures of his son on social media - NOT HAPPENING

At most, he will share a picture of the baby's hand for the announcement and that's it

Definitely takes time to enjoy life with his newborn son and the baby’s mother 

Every second he spends with his newborn baby fills him with joy 

He doesn’t mind doing the late night feedings or being on diaper duty 

He gets his son’s name tattooed on him soon after the birth 

Might not be somewhere too visible, though, especially is he chooses not to share his son’s name publicly 

If someone leaks any information about his son, he will lose his shit 

He usually doesn’t care if a paparazzi snaps a picture of him but his son ? That pap is in big trouble indeed 

In interviews, he refuses to answer questions about his family. The most a journalist will get from him about his son is : "Yeah, he's doing great" or "It's fun being a boy dad"

GROWING UP 

Just like with Alaina, Hailie and Stevie, he is adamant on teaching his son some good manners. No big difference there

However, he tends to be a little more strict with his son - because he knows what being a boy is like

That being said, he’s not much of a disciplinarian 

As long as his kids behave well and do well in school, he is pretty lenient 

Especially when he sees so much of himself in his son 

He loves his kids equally but he has a soft spot for his son because a) he is the youngest and his last child b) he is the only boy in the family, besides himself

He is a fun dad and he loves doing stuff with his children

Just like with his daughters, he makes it a point to be there for every important moment 

He does not doubt his wife/girlfriend/baby’s mother’s ability when it comes to parenting but he wants his son to have a good, strong male presence in his life 

He also pressures himself on being a good role model 

Definitely a stressed out Dad - not when his son is a baby (diapers and bottle feeding are the easy part) but more as he grows up. He constantly worries about setting up a good example for his baby boy. 

His son better respect women. He won’t have it any other way. 

He leads by example : he treats his baby’s mother very well, same goes for his daughters (obviously)

When he grows up, he has to have the « just because Dad says some stuff in his songs doesn’t mean it’s true » conversation with his son. 

The « no swearing » rule is still very much in place 

And if his son ever calls a woman a colorful name or disrespects a girl in front if him ? He is in BIG trouble. 

He teaches his son to respect everyone and makes sure his boy is polite from a very young age

He also makes sure his son knows not to take any disrespect. He teaches him that violence does not solve any issue but he will not have his son be bullied like he was.

He would not force his son to practice any activity he doesn’t want to

If his son wants to do ballet, he will show up to every recital and be the proudest Dad in the room - same goes for any other sport or artistic pursuit 

But hopefully he can share his passion of either Football or Basketball with his boy 

Baby boy sees his first Lions and Pistons game at a young age - doesn’t understand a thing but Marshall is too happy anyway 

What do you think ? What would you add ? 👀

[sivyera]

oo more b-rabbit please and maybe touchstarved reader x touchstarved b-rabbit/jimmy

A/N: I'm very sorry for long respond! But I didn't have much time earlier.

Touchstarved B-rabbit x touchstarved reader hc's

PAIRING: Jimmy Smith Jr x reader

WARNINGS: bad grammar

CONTAINS: fluff

SONG: Me and Your Mama - Childish Gambino

gif is NOT mine

Jimmy is touchstarved for 100%!!

he wants to touch you ALL THE TIME!

he needs to touch you ALL THE TIME!

when he have a chance to touch you anywhere, he will do it without hesitation!

when he have a bad day, he just cuddle with you rest of the day

he loves putting his head on your chest, wrap his arms around your waist and tangled your legs together

and when you start playing with his hair?! he's over the moon!

when you two go out he have to hold your hand and when he sees some guy looking at you for too long he'll just wrap his arm around your waist

when he can't touch you fully at the moment he'll just hold your pinkie

or he'll softly stroke your thigh with his pinkie

Jimmy, whenever he sees you're tired or in a bad mood, he'll put you in his lap, slowly and softly stroke your head and sing

he'll softly sing for you to calm you down cuz he knows how much you love his voice

when you're watching a movie together, you have to be on top of him

just lay on him that's everything he needs!

he can reach every part of you, he have your face close to his and he's body to body which is very relaxing for him

I think he have very cold hands so he likes putting them under your t-shirt when you don't pay attention

he feels like he's protecting you when he's touching you

but that's just what he needs - you!

[fxreflyes]

for the lovely wererabbit fic @kaaaaaaarf wrote that is currently living in my head rent free <3

[inkedhorror]

oh when did that happen...

[veinsfullofstars]

Art is happening, guys, don't worry. I just super fell down the writing hole recently (rare for me these days), and I have to put that fire to good use before it burns itself out again. You know how it is.

[jacksintention]

Oz in his Negan era

[cyberabbit]

cannot believe i caught someone armchair diagnosing me with npd in a chat they thought i couldn't see because i called them on their ableism.

[blindmagdalena]

Center Stage in a Gilded Cage

18+ 3k. homelander x f!reader. pre-s1. stalking, kidnapping, imprisonment, forced relationship, slow burn, somnophilia, drugging, eventual smut. 1/8. gif AO3. directory.

Homelander was born with only one terrible poverty: loneliness. He's been starved of love his entire life, made sick by his hunger for it, but he believes you might have the cure. If you want to survive, you'll find a way to give it to him.

Homelander has never been able to understand people who bird watch. Of all the things a mundane person could do with their abysmally mediocre life, why devote what little free time they have to observing a creature even more dull than they themselves are?

Perhaps it's the gift of flight. By far, it is the ability of his that garners the most attention. Or maybe it's the power trip one experiences when observing something simpler and weaker than yourself for sport. The novelty of becoming endeared by their strange little behaviors and quirks. It's this line of thinking that eventually walks Homelander down the path of people watching. During his downtime, in the quiet moments he spends perched atop skyscrapers and apartment complexes, he finds himself watching the people miles below him scurry about like insects through a colony.

Over time, he begins to recognize regulars. People moving back and forth, day in and day out, no different than ants moving grains back and forth. He has to laugh. It's no wonder god abandoned man. Man is fucking boring.

Even the god they made for themselves thinks so.

To ease the monotony, he concocts little stories for the ones he recognizes. He imagines the kinds of lives they live outside of their commutes and the routines he observes. He names one of them Peter, and every day he invents a new reason Peter is yet again running late for his train. Because he's always late, Peter never stops for the woman selling street meat on the corner across from the station.

Homelander imagines that the meat she peddles is people, and that she's got her eye on that speedy little rabbit, Peter.

And then one day, he notices you.

It isn’t that you’re especially beautiful or noteworthy. Just like all the other busy little bees, you go about your same routine each and every day of the week. Sometimes you're in a rush, other times you enjoy your stroll. Regardless, you always find time to stop and give money to the same homeless man occupying one of the few alleyways protected by an awning. Sometimes you linger to chat, other times you can only stop long enough to drop something into his hands.

It isn't always money. Oftentimes you have food for him packed neatly into a little take-out box. Despite the packaging, it looks homemade. You always have a warm smile for him, even when you’re obviously frazzled.

To the rest of the world, this man may as well be fucking invisible, but here you are handing him a box of home cooked food like he's someone who matters. Homelander is the world's greatest hero, and yet some bum on the street is being fed with more love and attention to detail than he ever has.

It's a goddamn joke. More and more, it becomes apparent to him that you’re pathetically lonely. After a few days of observing you amongst the others, he starts trailing you more actively, forgetting all about Peter and his eventual butcher.

He wants to know more about you.

You live alone, working and cooking for only yourself and your stray pet. Sometimes you cook for your coworkers or the odd friend who stops by before leaving you alone all over again. He watches from a distance while you toil away, cooking more food than you’ll eat in a week for people you see for a fraction of each of your weekdays. It couldn’t be more obvious that you’re desperate for someone to take care of.

In a way, he can relate. 

Maeve has been more distant than ever, choosing to engage him only when there’s a camera present. When it’s only the two of them, she just drinks until he barely recognizes her. Madelyn has begun her “fertility journey,” words that set his teeth on edge, and has barely had a real moment to spare him as of late. The rest of his team doesn’t help abate his loneliness either; Marathon is a washed up hack who can barely sprint these days, Lamplighter is only ever interested in clubbing, the Deep couldn’t hold a conversation in a bucket, and Noir is a mute.

And so he soothes his solitude with thoughts of you. When he isn’t with you, he daydreams about it, imagining what life would look like if your worlds were to intersect. The more he learns about you, the more vivid his fantasies become, and the more intensely he aches when he still finds himself alone in his bed at the end of each night.

It spurs him to visit you more and more.

One particularly warm summer night, you leave your window wide open. He takes it for the invitation it is, drifting towards it under the cover of dark. Your screen is loose and pops out noiselessly. Not exactly safe, even if you do live on the fifth storey.

You just never know what might come lurking out of the shadows.

Slipping into your living room, he’s met with the sound of white noise playing from your bedroom. Is it the sound of the streets below that bother you? You’d never hear it from his penthouse a hundred feet in the air. You could leave the windows open all you like and hear only the roar of the sky, not unlike the ocean waves your phone is poorly mimicking.

He could take you to the actual ocean. A beach house far away from the buzzing neon lights and incessant honking and revving of traffic. Walking through your apartment, he makes his way to your tiny kitchen. The one in his penthouse puts yours to absolute shame, and yet the only thing in it that’s ever been used is the fridge. He’s certain he’s never opened the double oven or so much as turned on the gas range. Meanwhile, your kitchen is riddled with use, each cupboard stuffed with mismatched cookware and the like. It smells of grease and spices and love.

The sad irony of it is almost too much to stomach. You don’t belong in this cramped little sardine can. You should be in a proper kitchen. 

You should be cooking for him. The thought comes to him like a flash of genius. Of course. That’s the answer that will solve both of your little dilemmas. If he is a bird watcher then you’re a songbird snared in a net. It would be inhumane of him to leave you to die before you’re ever appreciated–ever seen–by anyone who matters.

You would worship him for rescuing you. His wealth and power would see each and every one of your material needs met with ease. You would never work for anything again. All you would ever have to concern yourself with was being loved and loving him.

He walks to your room with a hand pressed absently over his heart, cradling the anxious little bundle of nerves that have gathered there. He can tell by your breathing that you’re deep asleep, and yet he finds himself uncharacteristically nervous as he approaches.

His first time being so near to you after weeks of simply observing.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he steps towards you. The sound of him is masked by the ambient noise spilling from your phone, not to mention the fan you have pointed directly at your bed in a desperate attempt to save yourself from the summer heat.

You clearly weren’t built for this paltry life. Mary was no one before God chose her for greatness. Is that not what he’s about to do for you? It’s the will of a god that elevates you.

He kneels by your bedside, bringing himself face to face with you. Your breathing is even, each huff smelling faintly of mint. Your lips look soft, slightly parted in sleep. Everything about you is gentler, more relaxed than you ever are in the day to day grind of your life.

You could look like this all the time without it. He has the power to change your entire life with nothing more than a couple of numbers shifting from one space to another. Money has always been inconsequential to him, so abundant that it hardly means anything anymore. You, however, are ruled by it.

For the first time in his life, he recognizes the power in his wealth.

He brushes the tips of his gloved fingers along your cheek, down your jaw. He’s never used his hands so tenderly as when he traces your sleeping eyelids with his fingertips, imagining what dreams chase behind them and make them flutter.

You don’t stir. 

Emboldened, he follows the curve of your bottom lip with his thumb, imagining how soft you would feel against the bare pad of his finger. Leaning in closer, he indulges in the warmth of your breath tickling his lips. You’re a sound sleeper, the thud of your resting heart beating steadily in his ear.

Closing his eyes, he bridges the distance between your lips, pressing his own lightly to yours. For a second, he thinks he’s woken you, that you’ve caught sight of him and your heart is drumming loudly in his ears. He draws sharply back, but sees that you’re still deep asleep, your features peaceful.

It’s his heart that’s racing, a thundering sound that blocks out every other noise in the room. He’s breathing shallowly, excited in a way he hasn’t been in a long time. There’s a flush crawling up his throat, and it’s at that moment he breaks out into a wide, wondrous smile.

There’s no question of it now.

He has to have you.

The plan to acquire you ends up requiring very little setup. If Madelyn cares why Homelander’s suddenly spending so much, she’s yet to make a comment. 

Bitterly, he thinks it likely that she’s glad to see him distracted. 

He starts preparation by appropriately stocking his kitchen; you’ll appreciate the supply of ingredients, he knows. The quality of what he obtains for you is leagues above what you can afford, as is the cookware. He buys you new clothes, jewelry, imagining every step of the way how you’ll look in each piece. How you’ll look as he takes them off. He’s seeking to upgrade your life in every conceivable way, like bringing a cat home from the pound and teaching it the meaning of luxury.

You’ll want for nothing. You’ll be so grateful to him. And you, the sweet and perfect little thing that you are, make yourself painfully easy to ensnare. You come home under the cover of dark like clockwork, perfectly oblivious to his approach. You’ve just managed to fish your keys out of your bag when his hand closes a kerchief over your mouth and nose, stifling your cry. His other arm slips around your waist, holding you steady. The cloth smells overly sweet, ether-like, and though that scent has no effect on him, you respond to it almost immediately.  “Shhhhshhshh,” he soothes, letting the anesthesia do its job. Fuck, you feel good in his arms, back held tight to his chest, your delicate hands prying at his wrist as you kick, claw and scream–albeit muffled–into the cloth. He holds you with ease, keeping you close to his body, angling you in such a way that you won’t hurt yourself.

Despite your tenacity, you fight a losing battle. Your efforts grow weaker and weaker as you lose your grip on consciousness. He hushes you all the while, encouraging you. “That’s it, let it go. I’ve got you, I’ve got you...” Finally your head falls back against his shoulder, your face lolling into the crook of his neck, the rest of your body falling slack in his arms. He pulls the cloth away from your mouth, tucking it into your bag for now. He turns his head to yours, lips barely ghosting along your forehead. He takes in a deep breath of you, his eyes falling shut. Beneath the sickly sweet smell of the chemical mixture he knocked you out with, he can smell the remnants of your perfume. It’s not his favorite fragrance, but the underlying warm scent of you is intoxicating. He’ll collect whatever belongings you decide you want with you when he returns, if anything, but he doubts you’ll miss much. Your stuff will seem like a heap of rags and garbage by comparison. He’s looking forward to how the perfumes and lotions he’s bought you will smell on your skin, and how you’ll look in the clothing he’s picked for you. He adjusts you into a bridal carry in his arms and gently kicks off from the ground, holding you firm to his chest. The city is beautiful at night, a landscape of stars mirroring that of the sky above it. He’s always loved it here, and yet he’s shared it with a painful few.

Madelyn never lets him take her to the skies. Maeve had been wowed initially, but she had quickly grown disillusioned with it. With him.

You’ll be different. The trip back to his penthouse feels agonizingly slow, but he maintains a lesser pace to keep the wind from rashing your skin, savoring the featherlight weight of you in his arms at last. He lands deftly on his balcony, stepping through his open reinforced glass doors. After laying you down in his bed, he takes a moment to slip off your shoes, setting them aside. He eases your purse off of your shoulder, and places it on the nightstand. After sprawling a thin blanket over you, he takes a step back and puts his hands on his hips to admire the perfectly domestic scene he’s set.

Slowly, he breaks out into a smile. His bed swallows you up, makes you look small and lonely. He’s the missing piece, of course. He’s already looking forward to seeing himself complete the picture in the mirror above you. He imagines coming home to you like this, curled up in his–no, your shared bed, blanket pulled up over your shoulders to block the chill left by his absence.

Oh, how you’ll miss him when he’s gone.

You’ll have nothing and no one to concern yourself with except for him. No burdens, no dread, no stress. You’ll live in peace and security the likes of which you can scarcely imagine, spoiled rotten by the bounty of all that he is.

Neither of you will ever be lonely again.

Tilting his head slightly, he listens to the sound of you. Your breathing is shallow, the beat of your heart steady. Normal people don’t realize it, don’t have the capacity for it, but a heartbeat is as distinct as a fingerprint. Over the years, he’s learned to read them as such. He’s memorized yours. There isn’t much for him to do in the time that you’re asleep. He knows precisely how long you’ll be out; the anesthesia blend he gave you was straight out of Vought’s lab, and the dose he gave you leaves him with at least an hour before the two of you meet properly. The anticipation is enough to make him giddy. For all that Homelander knows about you, there is plenty he does not. The externals of your life have only provided him so much, but that will come in time. He didn’t bother with perusing your social media accounts, not being particularly proficient in them himself. 

Besides, he wants getting to know you to be an organic experience.

He remembers to take your phone out of your bag and dispose of that rag he used to dose you while he’s at it. He unlocks your phone the way he’s seen you do a dozen times before, and spends some time ensuring that no one will be expecting you anywhere any time soon. All it takes is one quick email and you no longer have a job. A few social media posts later, you’ve informed anyone who might think of you that you’ll be enjoying an impromptu sabbatical in Europe.

The power of technology. After that, he pops your phone into the safe behind one of the dozens of portraits on his wall.

When he hears you starting to stir, renewed butterflies start fluttering about in his stomach. You have no idea that your entire life–no, your entire perception of reality–is about to change. No more dodgy commutes, no more living paycheck-to-paycheck. You’ll be free to admire the world from the lap of luxury–his lap, to be specific. You make a quiet moan, the chemical fog wearing off gradually. He moves swiftly to your bedside, primed with a welcoming smile, hands on his hips. “Riiiise and shine, sleepyhead,” he coaxes, leaning forward at the waist. Still disoriented from the drugs in your system, you stare at him as if you’re dreaming. He doesn’t blame you. In almost every other reality, there’s no explanation for the fact you’re seeing America’s favorite hero, the Homelander, standing above you. He knows the side effects of the drug have left a strange buzzing in your ears, and that your tongue likely feels heavy and cottony. He’s already got water for you on the bedside table. “Home…lander?” You manage to get out. His smile broadens. That’s the first time he’s heard you say his name. You look cute like this, bleary-eyed and needy. He’s grown accustomed to seeing you as a put together provider, self-sufficient and tending to the needs of those around you, but rarely your own. Seeing you unraveled feels like a secret intimacy for him alone. “The one and only,” he preens. Now that you’ve seen him posed valiantly by your side, he takes a seat on the bed next to you, reaching out to brush his gloved knuckles along your forehead. He attributes the slight flinch to your drug addled confusion. Poor thing. If he’d had an alternative to using a sedative, he would have preferred that.

Not that it matters now. You’re finally here.

( chapter two )

[luvm4thers]

B-Rabbit Headcanons:

jimmy smith jr. x fem!reader ₊ ⊹

prompt: you're jimmy's dancer girlfriend. 🐇

⚠: slight nsfw, fluffy fluff fluff

request: yes!! @heyitstial

a/n: this is my first request so i hope you enjoy it !! also thanks for choosing my fav cute lil' rabbit<33

(gif of my own) ₊˚⊹♡

He would brag about you to his homies, telling them how amazing of a job you have and how mesmerizing you are while you're doing it. He would definitely not stand any negative or suggestive comments about you, firmly telling everyone around him to be careful with their words if they don't want problems.

You support his rap career and he supports your dancing career. Jackpot.

Sometimes he would be possessive over you, knowing that other people could be looking at your body too much, even if it was on an innocent way. He wouldn't hesitate to make you remember you're his only.

If he has the chance he would leave love bites on your neck, collarbone and shoulders for the same reason. He knows you'll maybe have to cover it up with makeup later, but you know how playful he can be. He does it on purpose.

If you learn something new he would be eager to see it, all of his attention will be on you.

He wouldn't miss the chance to ask for you to dance for him.

Calm demeanor but his blue eyes would be always locked on you, making you feel all fluttery and tense inside.

If you have any public performances, he would be your biggest fan on the crowd. If he has the opportunity, he's going to bring flowers, or even a sign with something written in it.

Him bringing Lily along with him to your performance, showing her just how amazing you are.

When it comes to you, he's got all the time on the world to show off. He would be yelling ''That's right, that's Rabbit's girl, the best dancer on all of Detroit, I hope y'all motherfucking get it straight!'' at the end, making sure to brag with a smile and a laugh.

You blushing furiously at what Jimmy says at the end of your performances, having the need to give him ALL the kisses in the world. (please do)

He would try to learn how to dance with you, but at the end it would end up with the two of you laughing together and just having a good time. He knows his natural talent isn't dancing, but he's willing to give it a try as he's fascinated by you and also likes to make you laugh. And deep down, he likes when you think he's cute. (but won't tell you)

You giving him the nickname ''Dancer Bunny'' after he tried learning how to dance with you, earning a hearty laugh from him and maybe some blushing.

Stripteasing would be a yes. He would ask for it with the excuse of ''wanting to see how you can use your talent'', but you know he just loves seeing you move, and more if it's only for him.

''Babe, show me how those hips can move for me?''

Be sure that turns him on more than anything. You are the only one those ocean eyes want to look to, anyway.

Him being very cuddly and needy, loving your touch and sighing everything you caress his short hair or give him time to relax with you.

LOTS of reassurance. Like, lots.

‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎🐇 .ᐟ

[haruka-norikoyo]

Monoma x reader who is Mirio’s younger sibling

Okay, ya’ll know how Mirio out-of-pocketly told Eri that Monoma is the bad part of UA? Like bro was being insane but damn— Eri was scared of him for a while cause of that 😭

So like, what if he kept that energy up cause reader, his younger sibling, is dating Monoma? He would be hilarious as a passive aggressively protective older brother. Poor Neito, LMFAO

Part 1/?

Other parts:

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8

~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It’s bedtime for the students of class 1-B. Most of the students in the dorm are sound asleep, or at least, in their rooms getting ready for bed. But for Monoma, this hour is his only opportunity to sneak into the common room window now that everyone lives in dorms to meet with his significant other. Why the secrecy? Well, you so happened to have been put into 1-A after you both graduated middle school.

“I might not be able to bring you back until the dorms, but I could at least walk you halfway, you know?” Monoma says was he rests his arm out the window, his fingers threading against your up-stretched hand. “I wouldn’t want you walking on your own.” “Well, you could always be the one to visit me,” you tease, knowing he would never be caught dead within the premises of your class’ dorm. He scoffs, squeezing your hand as he looks away. “I would if your stupid classmates didn’t have godforsaken sleep schedules…”

Unlike his classmates at 1-B, Ashido, Kaminari, Kirishima, Hagakure and Sero wake up in the most random hours, or stay in the common room and play uno until the devil’s hour. Tokoyami is basically nocturnal. Aoyama sometimes goes out of his room for a midnight cheese. Koda has a pet rabbit, so he sometimes wakes up to get food in the kitchen for it. Bakugo sleeps at 8:00pm on the dot, but he, Iida, Midoriya, and YaoMomo are early risers, which too, throws a wrench in your star crossed lovers charade. Technically there is a curfew, but Aizawa himself cherishes his few of hours of sleep, so he doesn’t bother badgering them to go to sleep. If they end up coming to class sleepy, well…

Your only solace is the 1-B dorm, where everyone goes to bed at a reasonable time, with the nigh nocturnal students like Kuroiro at least staying at their rooms. “I guess that’s true…” you smile wryly. “But you know, we could always make our relationship… known..?” You look up at him a little hopefully. The two of you got together near the end of middle school, so you never got the chance to announce it to anyone, especially here at UA with the class rivalry going on. Monoma rests his chin on his hand. “…you know I’d look like the biggest idiot if after all I’ve said, I turned out to be dating someone from 1-A.”

“Yeah, but you’re my idiot,” you smile sweetly, standing on your tiptoes to lean in and peck his cheek. “Mwah.”

“Gee thanks,” He rolls his eyes, pink dusting his cheeks. He pauses a second, moving your hand up to plant a delicate kiss on your knuckles. “…I’ll think about it.”

You smile. “Thank you, Neito.” As you withdrew your hand, his fingers follow yours for another second of your fleeting touch. You squeeze his hand one more time, and let go, using it to wave. “See you again tomorrow.”

Monoma sighs, and smiles. “See you again.” He waves. You retreat back to your dorm, and his hand which was holding yours remained reaching longingly. Maybe the humiliation he imagines would be worthwhile if he gets to spend another moment with you. But, he’ll think about that another time.

He yawns, heading back to his room. The lights are all off, but he manages with the flashlight on his phone. The dorm hallway is nothing eerie. At least, as long as he doesn’t notice the pair of eyes watching him. Monoma reaches his room. He’d already brushed his teeth and changed to his sleepwear previous to meeting with you, so all that’s left to do is go to bed. He reaches for the covers.

“Hello.”

“Wh— eahhh!!!” Monoma screams, tripping on his own feet as he drew back from the face within his pillows. Wait a second, where is the body?!

He calms down, taking deep breaths as he stared at the face peeking out. The face stares back. He stays staring.

“What’re your intentions with my younger sibling?”

“Huh?” Monoma blinks. Bitch who the fuck? He doesn’t know anyone in particular who’s a younger sibling that he might’ve wronged. He doesn’t think a villain would get into UA— is this just 1-A messing with him? “Who even are you?”

“My name is Togata Mirio, nice to finally meet you,” he responds, still with only his face peeking out of the pillows. “Togata..? You don’t happen to be… (y/n)’s… older brother..?”

“Ah jeez, you’re already in first name basis?”

Monoma stares at the face poking out of his pillows. (Y/n) did mention having an older brother who’s in the hero course… but they look nothing alike!

“I bet you’re thinking that we don’t look anything alike, huh?”

Can he read my mind?! Monoma shakes his head. This is his first time meeting his partner’s family, he’s gotta pull himself together. Standing up, he dusts himself off. “I assume that you’re here to see if I’m worthy of (y/n).”

Mirio stays silent, his unreadable smile remaining on his face

Monoma takes a deep breath. “I intend to cherish (y/n), and treat them with all the respect they deserve. I’ll continue striving to be a hero by their side so that I may be the one to protect them when they’re too focused of protecting others. I intend to spend the rest of my life with (y/n).” He sweats. Mirio’s expression did not change at all in the time he’d said all that. “I see. Those are very big claims,” Mirio says. “I don’t doubt (y/n)’s judgement. They’re a capable kid. However…”

Monoma gulps.

“To be frank, I do not like you, or anyone with the chance of breaking my little sibling’s heart for that matter. If you ever hurt (y/n), I’ll pummel you till your mama don’t know ya.”

Huh? “Hold on a second, that phrase…” He smiles wryly, his formalities going out the window at this revalation. It’s the phrase he’d been teaching the abroad student, Tsunotori, while Kendo wasn’t looking.

“Yep, that’s right Monoma Neito. I’m in your walls. Haha, literally.”

With one eye twitching as he smiles, he asks, “That’s a breech of privacy, is it not, Onii-san? Why would you tell me this as an aspiring hero?”

“Because no one,” he could see the evil intent in those round blue eyes. “will ever believe you.”

“You evil bastard—”

“Monoma!” yells Awase, who’s in the room beside his. “The walls are thin! Stop talking to yourself! It’s 12:00 am, go to bed!”

He turns. “I’m not talking to myself I— wait…” Monoma turns back to his pillows, and the face is gone. He snaps his head around his room. “Holy crap he’s in my walls…”

“Are you going insane?” Monoma shakes his head after looking around one more time. He shuts off the lights and tucks himself under his bedsheets. He stares at the ceiling, half expectingly to see Mirio’s face appear to stare down at him, but it seems like he’s left. Or did he?

He may never know.

[lolahauri]

: ̗̀➛ Sebastian: Smut Alphabet 🔞

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Considering he’s the sub/bottom, you’ll probably being doing more of the aftercare.

He does love to hold you till you fall asleep though. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Besides your hips/waist (fluff alphabet), i think he’d be a tits guy.

Big or small, he loves watching them bounce when your riding him. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves cumming on your stomach or inside you.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Lowkey would share you with Sam if you wanted. 

He’s kind of a cuck.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

None. You were his first, that’s part of the reason he’s so needy and dtf, he just can’t believe someone as hot as you really wants to fuck him. 

(Plus all those years of pent up sexual frustration)

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Cowgirl!

He’s obsessed with you dominating him and taking control.

Mating press.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very serious, you won’t ever catch him making a joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Darker than his hair and straight.

Keeps it nicely trimmed for you.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Pretty intimate. I wouldn’t say he’s romantic though.

But he’ll definitely be telling you how good your making him feel, how beautiful you are, feeling up your whole body and worshipping it. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he was single: daily. Either watching porn, or thinking about you.

Now: only when you aren’t in the mood (or if you wanna watch him)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding, mommy/daddy, femdom, edging, orgasm control, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, biting, mutual masturbation/watching each other masturbate, dry humping, oral fixation.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Your bed or the couch. 

When he was living with his parents: his desk or bed.

Imagine sucking him off or cockwarming him while he’s working. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Anything about you, really.

He’s pretty easy to arouse. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Degrading/verbal humiliation.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Equally loves both.

Cumming down your throat is amazing, but he also loves to serve you and make you feel good.

Honestly once he starts going down on you, he won't stop until you tell him to. He loves it so much.

A lot of times he'll get so horny from it that he'll grind on the bed until he cums.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He’s a needy little bitch, so fast and hard. 

He fucks like a rabbit in heat. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Loves them, he’d have one anytime you want.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Mostly down to experiment, i don’t think he’s into anything extreme or really painful though.

He’d be down for some mild CBT maybe.

Risk wise, he’d def fuck you in the bathhouse locker room. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He can last quite a while if he’s being edged.

Otherwise he cums a little quick. 

But it’s kind of adorable, you just feel so good and look so hot that he can’t help but cum in just a few minutes.

But to make up for his quick finish, he can go multiple rounds.

Would absolutely overstimulate himself until he’s crying if it means he gets to stay inside you.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

He doesn’t own any, but if you had some he’d absolutely use them. (on you or him)

Like… 

Vibrators, cock rings, fleshlights, etc... 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can’t tease, he sucks at it.

But man he loves it when you do it. 

Moving past him and “accidently” grinding your ass on his crotch >>

Doing little things throughout the day to turn him on, just to make him wait till that night to get off. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

So loud and vocal.

Lots of whines, whimpers, and moans. 

Probably a lot of begging too <3

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Prefers hentai over "real" porn.

Imagine jerking him off while he’s watching hentai!?

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

About 6.5 inches and average girth, maybe leaning to the thicker side.

A little veiny and curved upwards.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Semi-high, he’d love to fuck at least once a day, even if it’s just a quickie.

But he’ll happily accommodate to your sex drive, whether it’s lower or higher.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He waits until your ready for bed.

Holds you like a teddy bear as you two fall asleep.

[factcheckingmclennon]

harry nilsson quotes double feature: fact or fiction?

"Someone told me a few minutes ago they saw John walking on the street [once] wearing a sign saying – a button, rather, saying 'I Love Paul'. And this girl who told me that said she asked him, 'Why are you wearing the button that says ‘I Love Paul’?' He said, 'Because I love Paul.'" -Harry Nilsson

"I'm just like everybody else, Harry, I fell for Paul's looks." Harry Nilsson (on John)

these quotes get passed around unsourced, or wrongly sourced, constantly. so...

are these harry nilsson quotes about john lennon real?

shockingly, after getting an anon correction on the first one and then discovering myself on the second one through the world's most random search engine imaginable bc SOMETHING felt unfinished...... the final verdict for both?

...ish? the second one is sort of neutral bc it's taken a bit out of context but i'll get to that

let's get into it, because this one took me on a journey!

(and btw the sources on these were SUCH a pain in the ass to find due to lack of sourcing & wrong sourcing so i am on my hands and knees for these to get passed around w the proper sources now that they're in one place bc they're so good)

first of all, these quotes keep getting mixed up and messed around with different wording. which was my first road block on finding a proper source. second of all, they have been wrongly attributed to a) one single interview together and/or b) a rolling stone interview with nilsson. this made things aggravating. but in the end, an anon sent me the audio for the first quote and for the second one i FINALLY found someone a looong while back actually naming the book it's in & successfully found it!

made a post earlier concluding both were fake, but we just had to go a little deeper folks.

anyway, onto the good shit

who was harry nilsson? he was a friend of john's, specifically during his 1974 lost weekend era. they lived together for a while (along with others, including ringo!) and were pretty close.

"because i love paul"

this one gets misquoted the Most honestly like you'll find a bunch of different variations of it, but you can find it in a 1984 interview with geoffrey giuliano as such:

GIULIANO: Did he miss the Beatles? Was he mournful about what happened, over the, you know—? HARRY: Someone told me a few minutes ago they saw John walking on the street [once] wearing a sign saying – a button, rather, saying ‘I Love Paul’. And this girl who told me that said she asked him, “Why are you wearing the button that says ‘I Love Paul’?” He said, “Because I love Paul.” [laughs]  

(source) (and again, it's a tumblr blog, but given that it's audio, i'm marking it trustworthy. i just uploaded it to archive.org in case it ever gets deleted)

"i fell for paul's looks"

this one. this one was a goddamn journey and a half. this sent me on several rabbit holes and dead ends. the author of the last source said "nope it's definitely not from the tapes i found this audio from or i would've posted it too" and couldn't find the source either. no one had a source. until finally i found someone on a forum saying it was in the ballad of john and yoko published by rolling stone in 1984, in an essay titled "harry remembers" and thank christ it was on archive.org

so here's the full quote, found on page 236

"He spoke the way James Joyce wrote. And to me he was the Beatles. He was always the spark. In a late wee-hours-of-the-morning talk, he once told me: 'I'm just like everybody else, Harry. I fell for Paul's looks. George knew more chords, so he was in. And Ringo, he's just Ringo.'"

(source)

so this one gets a... true/neutral rating from me. why neutral? well, the "i fell for paul's looks" part is certainly there. but in the full context, he's talking about why he wanted each member in the beatles. basically, paul was the pretty face. however, he did say that verbatim and it is incredibly fucking gay imo. like specifically the "i fell for" wording is craaaaazy to me. but i do think the full context should be included if we're talking about it, as well as the actual source.

so no, they were not indeed both from the same interview. one isn't even FROM an interview. but they are both true! which is great bc i love both of these quotes and truly thought they were fake! pleasantly surprised on this one

now, take these with a grain of salt. the first quote is a third-hand source. it's nilsson recounting what some random fan told him john had done YEARS prior. the second one is a second-hand source and nilsson and john were like pretty infamous for getting drunk/high together. but the quotes themselves? certainly exist from harry nilsson, and that's the question. believe them if you want to, or leave them! i'm certainly taking them lmao

[bones-of-a-rabbit]

*selfs ur insert* *gives ur insert anxiety* lol

Anyway sjdhdjdh i kinda rlly don’t like how this turned out but um. Babbit selfinsert comic real

(I imagine this would b pretty early in Sun/Moon and Rabbit’s friendship/general relationship, where Babbit is still figuring out how much rambling/being a weirdo Sun/Moon can tolerate lol sjdhdndhd)

(Babbit is gender neutral and uses they/them pronouns!)

not pictured:

Sun: Are you okay? You look a little red suddenly-

Babbit, incapable of being normal when flustered: NO I DON’T ITS NOTHING OKAY SHUT UP

[kining-the-evil]

could u do a fnaf3 william afton with an age regressed reader please <3

ty :)

Springtrap/William Afton x Little!reader

An: My first fnaf Headcanons! In Hope They turn out okay!

Warnings: fem!reader, little!reader, age regression, average Fnaf horror, sort of kidnapping, slightly manipulative William, Fnaf 3!william

This is in no way sexual, and I don’t want to see anyone making it so.

Fnaf masterlist All Masterlists

A horror attraction was the last place you wanted to work, but you desperately needed the money and this was the only place that would hire you

You didn’t know much about Freddy’s pizzeria, just that years ago some children had gone missing and someone had decided that it would make a good attraction

You bring a few things in an attempt to keep yourself calm, a small stuffy and coloring book to keep your mind off of the scary environment around you

The moment shit started you practically broke down. You struggled to keep up on everything, and soon enough found yourself on the ground below your desk, the small stuffed rabbit clutched tightly to your chest

Once William, or sprigtrap, is found and brought to the attraction he immediately sets out to to kill you, but is confused by the seemingly empty office

He moves in slightly to look around, freezing when he heard a quiet crying. He listened for a moment before taking a few more steps in, and glancing under the desk

Nothing prepared him to see you quietly sobbing to yourself

It wasn’t even in the way he’d expect. You didn’t look like someone who broke down from the stress and was afraid to die

Instead you looked like a child who woke up from a nightmare in need of comfort

As he looked around for an explanation, he saw the small stuffed animal and coloring book and he was reminded of a concept he’d seen in a few phycology books where a person would revert to a child’s mindset

At first he couldn’t believe his luck, this would just make it that much easier to kill you! It may even give him the rush he used to get from it! But…something stopped him

“Hello…” he kneeled down with a clank, causing you to jump and look up at him

“B-bunny..?”

The way your voice cracked as you spoke, your eyes filled with tears, and the way you squeezed the stuffed rabbit, it was…amusing? Maybe even…cute

He slowly pointed at your rabbit, trying not to scare you. “You have, a bunny too.”

It took that interaction for William to become fascinated with you. He didn’t get you out from under the desk that night, and the next night you hid back under it with a notebook and your bunny until he found you

“Hello love…” he spoke quietly as he sat on the ground a few feet from you. You shoved the notebook towards him, watching his reaction as he looked over the drawing of the large yellow bunny.

“Is This me?” A Small nod. “Well, it Looks beautiful dear.”

The next whole is spent with you bringing small trinkets and toys for him to see, and him praising you for it. It was odd for William, he didn’t usually feel protective over anyone and yet the thought of any of the others getting a hold of you worried him

You’d never really had a caregiver, and even though the large, rotting, rabbit should terrify you, he just…didn’t.

When he was around the others didn’t bother you, and he liked your drawings and stuffed animals, so how bad could he really be?

The day William decided you were his was when you crawled out from the desk and onto his lap with a book, asking him to read to you.

When the building ultimately burns down due to ‘faulty wiring’ William finds your home to take you with him when he disappears for a while.

He couldn’t imagine leaving you, so he packs your bag, and luckily you are willing to follow him into the night

You have literally nothing, and the closest thing you’ve ever had to a daddy wants you to be with him.

And you aren’t looking to lose that

[azsazz]

k but imagine vamp azzy...

"Enter," you call, and the door swings open on silent hinges.

You run your fingers over your skirts one more time, admiring yourself in the full length mirror standing against the wall.

He got it for you, because Azriel doesn't need a mirror like this, because he can't see himself in it.

When you pull your gaze away from the onyx fabric—tight around your top and flowing in silky waves down your waist—to meet those piercing golden eyes of his, he's not in the reflection of the mirror.

You can feel him there, his presence, domineering and menacing. He could be right behind you in an instant, grabbing you and wrapping you in that unbreakable hold of his, manhandling you in any way he pleases...you are just a human, after all.

But he stands still in the door, drinking you in as you turn to watch him. Your body tingles as his eyes drink you in. He can hear your pulse pounding in your chest, smell you from across the room, across the hall, across the entire manor. He can hardly keep himself at bay, knowing that you're up in this tower, terrified of him. He doesn't know how to prove himself, show you that you are his to take care of, and he would never dream of hurting you.

Looking like this though, fabric hugging your every curve, hair pulled away from your neck, creamy skin all on show. It makes his cock in his pants and he wants to bite you right here, right now, get on his knees and lift your skirts and nip at the meat of your thighs, taste the honey he can smell pooling between your legs—

"Well?" you ask timidly. You wring your fingers together nervously. Maybe it's too much for the way he plans on showing you off to his clan tonight. You don't want to overstep, draw unnecessary attention to yourself because you already know their attention will be on you, as a human. "What do you think?"

"I—" he starts, but he doesn't know how to describe your beauty. He doesn't know how to tell you that you are the most beautiful thing he's seen in his centuries, how he wants to claim you and turn you so that you can never leave him. How he wants to going hunting for you, bring you back the perfect human for you to sink your new fangs into, once he turns you...

He strides for you and you try not to flinch under his silent but quick steps. Azriel's across the room in a blink, bringing his hands up to your cheeks to caress.

His fingers are cold, but gentle. More gentle than you thought a vampire like him could be, one you've only seen angered and deranged, like an animal trying to protect what is his.

"You look," he sucks in a breath even though he doesn't need it. It's filled with your scent, the sweetness of your blood that will never be covered up, no matter how much perfume you put on. He licks his lips, fangs throbbing in time with your pulse. "You look almost perfect."

"Almost?" you squeak under his gleaming gaze. He's staring at you like a wolf does a rabbit, ready to snap those sharp teeth at you for a nibble. "What am I missing?" A necklace, perhaps?

Or perhaps fang marks?

You fist your fingers in your skirts so you don't slide the up his chest and twist them in his shirt.

Azriel's mouth quirks and he lifts a wrist to his mouth, the pristinely pressed cuffs of his shirts rolled up to his elbows, exposing that deliciously tan skin and whorls of ink. You gasp as he bites into the skin of his arm, blood pooling at his lips as he gnaws open the wounds.

It's messy, but his eyes don't leave yours as he takes his other hand and dips his fingers into the crimson coating his skin. He squeezes the wounds until there's a pool of blood in his hand.

The wound closes quickly, but it doesn't matter, he has what he needs.

Surprisingly, the blood is warm. He rubs his hands together so they're both coated in it, and oh-so gently, he smears his blood across your neck, claiming you.

His touch is soft, brushing over the column of your throat. His thumb brushes your skin when you swallow, and his eyes zero in on the movement before he rips them away, meeting your gaze again.

Slowly, as if you'll push him away, his hand wraps around your throat.

He'd let you shove him away, he'd let you hit him, kiss him, drink his blood, wrap a collar around his throat and pull it as tight as you want. He'll give you anything, and everything, and he plans to.

Your pulse thrums like the beating wings of a hummingbird beneath his fingers. Azriel wants to use his grip and pull you into him, rip that dress off of your body, and take you to the bed only feet away.

He doesn't want to share you, doesn't want to bring you around Rhys, or Cassian, or any of those blood sucking hounds, even if he knows they'd never touch what is his.

Azriel lets his hands slide off of your neck, and the lack of his touch sends shivers up your spine.

"There," he whispers, "Now you look perfect."

You step closer to him, chests almost touching.

In an act of boldness and maybe something more, you take his hand, covered in thick, red blood, and lick across the marred skin of his palm.

Azriel's eyes flare, fires sparking in his eyes at the sight of your tongue lapping up his blood, licking across the parts of him that make him the fucking monster he is.

You're gentle with it. Too gentle for him to take. His cock strains in his pants. A part of him wants to take your face back into his hands and snap your neck right now so that he can turn you, but the other part of him is so close to grabbing you and fucking you hard on the bed.

It's heady, metallic, and it makes your cunt clench in pleasure. The taste of him like this, marking him in your own way like he has you. You want him.

"Thank you," you smile, fluttering your eyelashes up at him seductively, "You look perfect too."

he's so unhinged i fucking adore him