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#it's too long i'm sorry lmao

izzydrawsforfun · 27 days

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I have decided to let go off my sinful ways and devote my art to the Lord

Izzy Draws for Fun is gone. Izzy Draws for CHRIST is in

#my art #iz #invader zim #dib #dib membrane #gaz #gaz membrane #zadf #zim and dib friendship #get it cause they no longer zadr cause zadr is sinful #theyre no longer gay sinners #lmao #april fools #i cant keep the bit for too long i'm sorry

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shima-draws · 1 year

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SO I just finished binging all of Romantic Killer bc it came up in my recommended. And oh my god I loved it so much;;

There’s definitely mixed reviews about it WHICH IS FAIR bc the premise is about a girl named Anzu who isn’t interested in romantic relationships but she then gets pushed into typical dating sim situations with Really Cute Boys in an effort to like. Force her into a relationship. And obv this kinda comes off as arophobic. But the fact that she so stubbornly refuses to partake and tries so hard to veer away from those situations makes it so fucking funny, especially when she rejects the boys with faces like this

And it turns out it’s really just a show about found family and overcoming trauma and developing healthy friendships with people and UGH. UGHHH it’s so good.

I actually adore Riri lmao they’re SUCH a little shit and I very much enjoy insanely chaotic characters like that. And we start off thinking okay wow this person’s kind of an asshole for forcing a girl to get a boyfriend by taking away her cat, her favorite hobby and her favorite snack, but then we find out OH, they’re just a cog in a corporate machine and they don’t really have much of a choice about it. And we slowly see Riri actually gain true affection for Anzu, and see how much they come to care about her as a person rather than just as a test subject, to the point of them actually breaking the rules of their contract just to make sure she’s safe. AND NOT JUST HER. They make sure the people she’s associated with are safe too, even if it risks them getting in Big Trouble with their boss. AND the fact that they canonically go by they/them pronouns but can ALSO transform into a boy or a girl depending on their preference, and they playfully flirt with Anzu in both forms?? It’s so good. Also thinking about the effort that Anzu goes through to make sure Riri gets to stick around;; like even tho she’d never admit it. She’s come to care for them too in some very strange way lol

And Junta;; the fact that Anzu is actually so concerned about him possibly being brainwashed into the position of childhood friend? Like she doesn’t immediately push him away or shut him down, she actually cares about him as a person and wants him to find happiness and wants to get him out of the situation she thinks he’s in. But then she finds out oh wait he actually IS a childhood friend. And he’s such a good boy. I love love LOVE how they handle the love triangle aspect in this, because obviously yes there’s a bit of jealousy, but not enough for things to get petty between him and Kazuki. They actually treat each other with respect and regard each other as friends and are kinda rooting for the other in their own way. Kind of “may the best man win” sort of thing. There’s no toxicity, there’s no classic “fighting over the female love interest” trope, they actually genuinely like each other after a bit of awkwardness enough to feel comfortable with living together and living with Anzu. They’re SO fucking sweet god dammit //shakes fists

(Honestly tho I really wish we got more episodes focused on Junta. Bc he really seemed like more of a background character and made the whole “love triangle” aspect not feel as prominent. Which is fine I guess?? But I felt so bad for him lmao)

And Kazuki 😭 My beloved. My poor sweet boy who deserves the world and everything in it. Just the build up. The subtle hints of his trauma that pop up every now and then. And when it all comes together you’re like oh!! Ohhh. THAT’S why he acts so aloof and cold all the time. THAT’S why he doesn’t like being the center of female attention. THAT’S why he gets distressed at things that, at first, seem so insignificant. THAT’S why he got attached to Anzu so quickly. And I love the way they handle his trauma, how they don’t make it seem any less important or alarming just because he’s a guy. And how Anzu’s there for him through everything 🤧 How she’s the person to pull him out of the darkness, how she stands up for him time and time again, how she just KNOWS when he’s uncomfortable and steps in to protect him. She ends up caring about him so much despite how they were set up to encounter initially. And he cares about her so much too. And I just 🥺 I care them

Also the fact how everyone came to help Kazuki when they found out what was going on. No judgement, no “you’re making this up”, no “isn’t this your fault to begin with?” They all just step in without even hesitating and support him through his trauma and immediately go “Okay we’ve got a problem so here’s our gameplan.” SEE. IT’S REALLY ABOUT THE FOUND FAMILY,

And one of my favorite things. Riri 🤝 Hijiri using their influence and power to protect both Anzu and Kazuki despite the risks to their reputation and social standing

OH AND I wanted to mention. I love that all of the classic romantic tropes i.e. something happening to your cute neighbor’s apartment so that they’re forced to live with you while it gets sorted out--those are generally really cheesy and make huge plot holes and don’t make ANY sense in the narrative. But that’s the thing about RK, they make it funny, yeah your cute boy neighbor’s apartment flooded bc we need him to come live with you. We did it with magic. Yes your childhood friend is living with you now bc we had a weirdo break into your apartment--with magic. So now he feels like he needs to stay with you and protect you. Yes you got hit by a car with a really rich boy inside and now he’s interested in you. We also did this with magic. Everything that would be regarded as a “coincidence” and is a badly written plot point just to push two characters together is actually explained through the hilarious concept of magic and I LOVE that it’s so fucking funny

Honestly this show is really up to interpretation too which I like a lot? Some people think hey yeah, maybe Anzu will end up with someone. Others say you know what the message here is that friendship is the most important thing and sometimes platonic relationships are better than romantic ones. The ending is pretty ambiguous so it could really go in any direction.

Anyway I have so much more to say but. Just watch Romantic Killer it’s really good thanks bye

(Trigger warnings include sexual harassment/assault, stalking, panic attacks/PTSD, and attempted murder, so please take care while watching <3)

#Romantic Killer #Romantic Killer spoilers #Anzu Hoshino #Riri #Tsukasa Kazuki #Junta Hayami #Shima speaks #Long post #I'M SORRY I JUST REALLY ENJOYED IT AND WANTED TO SHARE.#Anime recs #I love Kazuki so so so much #Probably bc he reminds me a LOT of Todoroki #Like. They have the same calm disposition and mannerisms #And they talk the same way too #I could not. Help but think of a BNHA crossover while I watched this. SORRY #But yeah it's so good 😭#Kazuki my sweet angel my cinnamon roll who's never done anything wrong in his life ever #Also lmao like. Love triangles yeah okay. But Anzu has TWO HANDS. So does Junta and Kazuki. LET THEM DATE.#Or at least be in a happy platonic relationship together

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ventiswampwater · 7 months

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subterranean

FANDOM : house of wax (2005) PAIRING : bo sinclair x afab!fem!reader RATING : explicit 🔞 WORDCOUNT : 3.9k

Reader POV. Basement fuckery. He tells you it's to keep you humble. It’s really just to keep you scared. The distinction doesn’t matter. You end up here again and again, knees biting into the concrete.

Crossposted on A03 here.

⚠️ Stockholm Syndrome. VERY dubious consent under duress. This was supposed to just be porn without plot. But then I lost my goddamn mind. Oops. Decent amount of weird prose. Depersonalization and derealization. Pet play (but make it weird and kinda metaphorical). Collaring. Forced boot riding. Vibrator and anal plug use. Bondage/gagging/edging. Bo at his absolute WORST (his natural state), being smug and mean and awful. Dirty talk dialed ALL the way up. Extremely dehumanizing and degrading language. Mind break elements. LOTS of backhanded praise. ⚠️

You always got too comfortable.

A lifetime before—when you were first here—you sat on this mattress with him, swallowing down mouthfuls of cold beef and carrots. You can remember the soup swirling in the can, murky and brown like a puddle of stagnant rainwater. He hadn't bothered to warm it up for you, but it hadn’t mattered. The food was something. Sometimes it felt like everything.

You licked the broth off the spoon as he plugged another tape into the VCR.

“One of my favorites.” He told you. Of course it was. Every movie he showed you down here was one of his favorites. Every can of soup might be the last. It was always the same things, over and over.

That’s when you started to lose track of time, you think—when you’d started to cling onto all that nothing.

Time wasn’t all that bad of a thing to lose, was it? Who needed it when his thumb was rubbing against your knee, stroking up your skin? The soup was cold, and his hand was warm. You traded one for the other and you liked it.

Funny. Thoughts like that always felt like they came with an or else tacked at the end.

A chunk of potato sat unpleasantly on your tongue—almost bitter, gravel in your mouth. Just like everything else, you swallowed it down.

He pressed play, his fingers drifting up your thigh. The TV quality was fuzzy, interrupted by the occasional flicker of static. Sometimes the films he chose would start in the middle of scenes. You’d get brief glimpses of things he’d recorded over—the triumphant blare of a talk show theme cutting off mid-note, dropping you in media res. He always assured you that you weren’t missing anything. At least that was one thing he didn’t bother lying about.

The movie wasn’t why you remembered that day, though. It was because of something he’d asked you.

“Where’d ya’ grow up?”

You hadn’t known what to say. He never asked you things like that. Your confusion only deepened when you turned towards him. There was no tension in his jaw, no furrowing of his brow. He looked, for the first time, wholly and startlingly calm.

When you failed to answer, he leaned forward and switched the TV off. He never did that either.

“Tell me ‘bout it. Whatchu do out there, anyway?”

You always regret not lying to him.

The world had shrunk down so much in the time you’d been in the town that it almost felt like you could gather it up and stuff it in your pocket.

You think about home. It looks different now.

Spidery tendrils of dust cling to the gaps between the balusters. It’s so difficult to get light in the house. No matter how many windows you open, there are always corners lost to shadow.

It’s strange how you could be up there one day, replacing the bulb under a fringed lampshade—and the next, you’d be tumbled back underground.

Just last week, you were lying on the couch in the living room.

The dog had padded into the room. She’d been gone for the better part of the day. With the doors unlocked, she went wherever she pleased. It had worried you at first, but it didn't anymore. She'd never leave town. She knew better.

At least, that’s what he’d said.

“Come here, beautiful.”

Jumping up, she curled into the space beside you. You wrapped your arm around her, wrinkling your nose. She reeked terribly of dog, stale corn chips and dirt and musk. You wondered if she might let you give her a bath now that you were in her good graces. It took a while to get there, but she came around. In a manner of speaking, the same thing had happened with you.

Pretty funny, huh?

Earlier, you'd been thinking about the puppies in the pet store window. Did she know about them? Slumbering away behind glass and dust, forever only a couple breaths old. Click. A switch was flipped, and they were as alive as they would ever be, nestled on newspaper shavings. On days like this, did she ever make her way down the hill to see them?

“Girls don’t last in this town.” You murmured, scratching behind her ear. “Just me and you, yeah?”

With a huff, she buried her head in the crook of your neck. It seemed like she was done listening to you.

That was fair, really. Half the time you weren’t even saying what you were really thinking anymore—and when you did, you weren't entirely sure that you made much sense. So much of yourself was locked up in your head and you kept forgetting where you left the keys. It all got clogged up inside your skull and oozed out of your mouth in a trail of sickly platitudes. You were just so thankful, so grateful.

“Sorry.” You whispered. You were always sorry for something, and sometimes you even meant it.

The rays of light were receding off of the arm of the couch, crawling up the wall. Your thoughts filled the living room. You could almost see them floating through the air, bouncing off each other like bubbles. Fleeting, effervescent things, popping as soon as you tried to track their paths. When you turned your head, you could smell his cologne. It was his jacket, hanging discarded over the couch cushions.

For a sudden, terrifying moment, you missed him.

That’s when you said the prayer. You didn't know where you meant for it to go. You guessed it was for whoever was around to hear it. Most days it was him and some of the time it was his mother. Both choices rang false. If God was still in this town, it was here, caught in these beams of light. Or maybe God was the dog heavy on top of you, her breath a rhythmic rumble against your throat.

Maybe you wouldn’t last long. Maybe it was all just wishful thinking.

Today, Bo fastens the collar around your neck. The leather feels heavy against your skin.

He tells you it’s to keep you humble. It’s really just to keep you scared. The distinction doesn’t matter. All the light bulbs you screw in will eventually need to be replaced. Wiping away the dust only gives way to more dust. You'll end up here again and again, knees biting into the concrete.

This almost feels more like his room than the one he sleeps in up at the house. Here, you can feel him more than anywhere else. There's more of you down here too. Real, tangible parts of yourself. Look around. There you are in the stain on the mattress, the blood crusted on the vinyl.

Welcome back, baby.

You keep your gaze on the ground, searching for something to bore your eyes into. Your eyes land on his shoes. Flecked with dirt, they bear obvious signs of wear. There’s a sizable hole in the toe of one of them. You focus in on that as he readjusts the collar, tightening the strap around your neck.

Embarrassment heats your cheeks as you hear him click the leash into place. Even without looking up at him, you can picture the expression on his face. It isn’t a good one. You still can’t decide if he looks more or less like himself when he screws his face up like that.

Tugging roughly at the leash, he forces you to look up at him. Wrists bound; your hands flex uselessly against your back.

“Please—”

Without warning, he sticks his fingers into your mouth, forcing them to the back of your throat. You choke, your hands flexing in panic behind your back. When he pulls them out, you cough, eyes watering.

“Now, normally I like hearin’ you, baby.” He says, smiling down at you. His face is a discordant thing. All American, boy next door. A slice of apple pie that someone put a cigarette out in. “But you know somethin’—”

He crouches down in front of you, still smiling. You watch him silently, shifting anxiously on your knees.

“I never did meet a dog who could talk.” Reaching over, he flicks at the metal ring on the collar. “Feels wrong.”

Dropping the leash, he gets to his feet, striding away. You crane your neck to the side as he rustles around behind you. After a moment, he lets out an affirmative grunt.

Quickly, you pivot your head back to the front. Making his way back to stand in front of you, your eyes flash to the item in his hands. Seemingly amused by your concern, he dangles it in front of you.

It’s a ball gag, shiny and black—noticeably a hair newer than the rest of the junk down here. Maybe he bought it just for you. It’d make a pretty lousy gift, but then again, he was always shit at stuff like that.

He had an incredible knack for getting you shit that you never asked for. Everything came with conditions, a laundry list of provisos and conditions that you didn't remember signing up for. Everything he gave you was actually for him.

“Open up, baby.”

Before you can think to do as he asks, his thumb forces your mouth open, pressing down on your teeth. You sputter as he forces the gag into your mouth, securing it around the back of your neck.

“That’s better, yeah?” He asks, grabbing hold of the leash again.

You stare up at him, exhaling tight bursts of air through your nose. You tilt your head a bit, working your jaw around the ball. Your teeth rest uncomfortably on the rubber.

“You been so good today, think we outta give that pussy some attention, huh?” He smirks. “Whatchu think?”

You whine, the noise coming out in an embarrassingly wet gurgle. Spit runs out of your mouth, dripping down your chin and trickling onto your neck.

“So cute.” His voice is syrupy sweet. He can play at authenticity, but never with you.

He kicks your thighs apart with his foot, nudging the tip of his boot between your legs. His eyebrows shoot up expectantly as he nods down at you.

“Go on, then.”

Disgust is an old friend. She disappears for months at a time, only to show up unexpectedly as if no time has passed. She’s back again, turning your stomach around in her hands. You tilt your hips down. Rubbing yourself against the tip of his shoe, you wonder if he’s doing this for old times' sake.

Rocking forward, you imagine a glossy magazine cover. You could see him on the cover of one. He does have the face for it, when he bothers to put it on.

Bored? 50 Ways to Keep the Spark Alive!

Your jaw is beginning to ache. Bo's hand strokes softly at the top of your head. You hate that the pressure against your clit almost feels good. Your mind unhelpfully supplies more article titles, bubbling up in your mind in obnoxiously curly lettering.

10 Mouth Exercises For The Modern Woman. Have You Tried Screaming? It’s All The Rage in This Town. Once You Start, You Won’t Want to STOP!

“That’s it.” He grins. “What a little slut.”

You look up at him pleadingly, another dribble of spit running down your chin.

“Always got told ya’ shouldn’t let dogs up on the bed.” He muses, the amusement plain in his voice. “But you been on your best behavior, huh?”

Last week, you fell asleep on the couch. You woke up somewhere else.

It was dark and you were pressed against something warm. Not the dog, not the light. Those were both gone. His jacket hanging off the side of the couch, maybe. But it was moving now, and so were you.

“Gotta getcha to bed.” He’d muttered, carrying you up the stairs.

You lay across Bo's lap, the side of your cheek against the dirty mattress. You shudder, your legs shaking.

“Pretty girl.” Reaching over, he tugs you up by the leash, forcing your head back.

Every breath you take seems to make your muscles clench around the plug in your ass. He works it in and out of you slowly and you gulp, shallow breaths whistling out of your nostrils. Every time you jolt forward you can feel him press against you, hard against your belly.

“Hey. What’s wrong, baby? That hurt?”

You nod frantically.

“Huh. Funny…'cuz I don't think it does. You wanna know how I know?” You feel him spread you open, fingers dipping into your pussy. “You’re wet for it, baby.”

He pushes the plug deeper, and your head spins at the sensation. A warbling moan pitches out of your mouth as you feel it sink fully into you. You shiver uncontrollably, whimpering around the gag. Saliva gathers on your tongue, and you feel it spill out of the side of your mouth, pooling under your cheek.

“Good.” He rumbles out, stroking his knuckles along your back. “That’s my good girl.”

You squeeze your eyes shut when you feel him nudge something between your legs. With a click, the vibrator buzzes to life. You let out a startled cry as he strokes it along your pussy.

“It’s nice, huh?” He chuckles. “Don’tchu act like I never gave you anything.”

The vibrator teases against your clit in short bursts, pressing down just long enough to leave you panting before he pulls it away. Almost enough, not quite. You arch back uselessly, chasing after that glittery warm sensation. He laughs a bit, holding the vibrator just above your clit.

You can feel the edge of pleasure, but it’s nothing more than a distant dull thrum. He keeps you hovering over it for what feels like forever, squirming over a feeling that’s hardly there. You bite down on the gag, your sob watery and muffled around the rubber.

“This body’s all mine, girl.” He murmurs, running his thumb down your spine. “I ain’t gotta make it feel good.”

With a hum, he rests the vibrator fully onto your clit. The sensation you’ve been chasing envelopes you, shimmering through your core. Nasally, high-pitched whines escape you in quick, desperate succession.

“But I do, don’t I? ‘Cuz I’m just so sweet.”

You open your eyes, staring up at him in bleary gratitude. He presses down on the plug. The discomfort has crested over and all you feel now is loose and pliant. You moan around the gag, your eyes fluttering.

“You like having somethin’ in your ass while I play with this pussy?”

And you nod, humming out your agreement.

“Mmm-hmm? Yeah?” He teases, mimicking your garbled reply. "That's good, baby. That's real good. Reckoned I’d fuck your ass today, but that pussy’s gettin’ nice and wet for me. Whatchu think? Which hole you want fucked?”

You mumble incoherently through the gag.

“All of ‘em?” He exclaims, the grin evident in his voice. “Well, ain’t that real sweet. Good answer, baby.”

He keeps talking, but it’s getting harder to focus on what he’s saying.

“Next crew that comes through here—maybe I’ll tell ‘em I got a slut who needs breakin’ in. You spread those legs so nice, sure you’d fuckin’ love it.”

The image flashes through your mind. Hands everywhere, laughter and heat and friction from a kaleidoscope of people destined for death. You’re in the middle of all of those faceless people—a tribute to be used up, one last meal for a parade of living corpses.

You’re all destined for the same end, but theirs is closer than they know. Yours is prolonged, tied around touches and salt.

Bo would be in the corner, lighting another cigarette—watching, because he’s always watching. Mouth twitching into a smile because he’s right again. You’re exactly what he thinks you are. You’ll keep your eyes on him because you can’t look at anyone else. After all, if it isn’t his hands, could you even feel it? Would it even count?

The panic is sudden and hot, twisting inside your chest. A desperate little whine builds at the back of your throat.

If I’m everybody else's, I can’t be yours.

“I’d have a hard time sharin’, though.”

Relief. The vibrator pulses against your clit and your eyes go unfocused.

“’S funny. Gotchu down here—and nobody knows.”

Between your legs, your pussy feels pathetically wet, sloppily sliding along the vibrator. You almost wish he’d keep you like this forever, jolts of pleasure lapping hungrily between your legs.

“If there’s even anybody out there lookin’ for ya’…” He muses. “Wish they could see ya’ now, huh? Don’t think they’d feel bad for you, baby.”

Pleasure rolls dizzily through you, electric licks of sensation as he rubs the vibrator against your clit. The rubber in your mouth is an anchor, it feels good on your teeth.

“Betchu thought you were really somethin’ out there.” He chuckles. “How’s it feel to find out you ain’t? Feels good, don’t it?”

You open your eyes and nod up at him, panting out your agreement. Through the haze, you see him smirk. It’s a cruel, cold thing. You’re all full and useless, but he doesn’t need you to say it, because he knows. Thoughtlessly, you shift in his lap, trying desperately to spread your legs wider for him.

“Nothin’ but a little fucktoy.” He coos. “That’s all you are, baby. Want you to remember that.”

He doesn’t need to worry. You remember everything, except what counts.

“Good girls cum, baby. They can’t help it.”

You’re hurtling higher and higher, the pleasure battering against your brain. That’s where the memories are, where the time used to be. It feels better to fill it with this. But then again, you’ve known that from the start.

“Go on, baby. Cum all pretty for me, yeah?”

And you do, a million times over.

He keeps the vibrator pressed firmly against your clit as you tense up, your hands clenching into tight fists behind your back. Your orgasm is a bone-deep shiver, wracking your legs with uncontrollable chills. The pleasure throttles through the last of your coherency, prizing a desperate noise from your throat. Maybe it’s a word. It might be his name. It might just be the time. Maybe this is how you find it again.

The buzz of the vibrator goes dim and far away as he holds it against you. You’re twitching somewhere above it. Each involuntary movement you make brings with it a new hiccup of sensation. Around you, the room seems to spin—whirling into a terrific blur of green and yellow.

It can be beautiful down here, if you squint.

When he lifts the vibrator off your clit, you pitch forward, warbling out a dizzy laugh behind the gag. You wait for the sound of the wand powering off. It doesn't come. Behind you, the buzzing is a low, incessant drone. You’ve barely managed to ground yourself when you hear it kick up a notch.

Click.

The sheets smell like all the thousand versions of you, each one answering questions she shouldn’t. Four walls surround you and they feel like they’re collapsing down on all sides. They could be made of plaster or stone, but they might just be something else. Your limbs, your heart, your mind, him. Separate appendages, but all linked. All part of the same crumbling structure.

A scream builds at the back of your throat as you feel him set it back on your clit.

“We ain’t done, baby.”

Your sleep is deep. Quiet. Only one dream.

Bo’s sitting on the edge of the bed, an inky blot in the gray morning light. He makes a move to stand up and you grab onto his arm.

“Go back to bed, angel.” He murmurs.

It almost sounds real enough.

When you wake up, you're alone. You try the door and find it unlocked.

Figures.

Upstairs, the shop is empty. There’s a can of unopened Coke on the counter. You crack it open and take a sip. Lukewarm bubbles of carbonation fizz over your tongue. God, he really was shit with gifts.

Walking up the hill, you catch your reflection in the window of a sedan. You look haggard, your hair a raggedy clump around your shoulders. You try the handle and it cracks open easily. Crawling into the dirty belly of the car, you wince as you lower yourself down into the seat. You sit with one leg dangling out, absentmindedly studying the dusty speedometer.

There are cars in other towns, parked on different streets. There are places without dust. There are always other futures. Sometimes you turn down the wrong road, and sometimes you die. Sometimes you don’t.

That’s just the way these things go.

You imagine the town collapsing in on itself like a pop-up book. There’s Bo, frowning down at it. He seemed like he’d been the type of kid that wasn’t allowed to check those kinds of things out from the library. He’d bring them back with pages ripped out, scrawled with pen marks. Pilled white card stock where faces used to be.

God, you’re miserably sore. It’s impossible to narrow down the ache to a certain part of you.

Lifting your leg into the car, you pull the door shut. The dust inside tickles your nose. Unthinkingly, you reach up, your fingers brushing against the metal buckle of the seatbelt. The sting is sharp and immediate. You pull your hand away with a hiss, your hand smarting. When you reach for the seatbelt again, you’re careful to avoid the clip.

You buckle yourself in. Click. Alive again, now more than ever. Wrapping your hands around the steering wheel, you close your eyes. The leather is hot against your palms, and it hurts a bit. Just a little. That’s just the pain again, but you don’t really mind. It’s something you can keep. It’s all yours.

Nothin’ you can’t handle, girl.

That’s what he said last night. Afterwards.

You were laying with your head in his lap, the itchy crust of dried spit against your cheek. It was then that you decided that you were so ugly that you had to be beautiful. You had to be worth looking at. You’d rolled over on your back, looking up at him through swollen eyes. That’s when he said it, so low and quiet that you almost didn’t register it. There’d been a an edge of pride to his voice.

Nothin’ at all.

A lick of pleasure thrums between your legs and your eyes flash open. You unbuckle the seatbelt and scramble out of the car, ignoring the pain that sings through your limbs.

Things like that? They always came with an or else tacked at the end. You remember that, don’t you? You couldn’t have forgotten.

Looming above you, the house is a dark blot of ink against the blue sky.

There were no collars for dogs in this town—they didn’t need them. They’d always find their way back home, pawing at the door for some scraps. The only leash is the one that exists in your mind. You can almost see it, trailing off your neck and up the hill, looped messily around the front doorknob.

You were going to die here with all that wetness between your legs, begging him to take out more of you with his teeth.

It's like he said.

You don’t need to tie up a dog if it loves you.

#I FINALLY finished this shit. it's horrific. tysm for coming there are drinks n snacks @ the door #we're goin back 2 ambrose I'm sorry 2 say #and our first stop? oh. just down these stairs #house of wax #bo sinclair #bo sinclair x reader #slashers x reader #slasher community #x reader #my fics #in his basement like damn bitch u live like this #shit is dis cos tang #r/malelivingspace for fuckin real #I've stared @ these bingo bongo ass words for far too long. so I'm sure there's errors. but I will fix them when BRAINCELL lmao

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leverage-ot3 · 5 months

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since it's my birthday I'm sharing what I have (ROUGHLY) written down so far for my ot3 video analysis' section on the long way down job (if you haven't been able to figure it out yet, that's one of my favorite episodes)

Here we are seeing the aftereffects of the San Lorenzo Job in real time in the relationships between the characters. It seems as though Hardison is feeling off-balance in his relationship dynamic with Parker, who we we remember confessed her feelings and willingness to pursue a relationship with Hardison at the end of the Big Bang Job (note, there weren’t many relationship developments that happened between them in the San Lorenzo Job for obvious reasons- i.e. they were actively trying not to die). Hardison, who has been living that slow-burn life for the past three years is obviously ecstatic that this is happening, but it seems as though there is a disconnect between his expectations and reality of the relationship. NOTE: One of the wonderful things about Hardison is that he doesn’t expect anything from Parker- he wants her as she is in whatever way he can have her. When I’m talking about expectations, I’m saying that he doesn’t know how to act with this new relationship development- he doesn’t know where the ‘lines’ are of Parker’s comfortability and what she is ready for, which is leaving him a bit confused and unsure of how to act.

For example, he goes in to hug her but she either doesn’t notice, doesn’t compute what he’s trying to do, or isn’t up for that level of physical affection at the current moment. She high-fives him instead

[significance of eliot 'don't touch me bro' spencer not only giving hardison a hug but INITIATING IT because parker didn't take his open arms as an invitation. talk about how much lighter he looks after the events of the san lorenzo job- it's almost like a literal weight has been lifted off his chest]

It’s easy to see the Parker-Hardison dynamics in this episode, but don’t miss how there is also significant development in the relationship between Parker and Eliot. Parker and Eliot are paired off for most of this episode climbing the mountain to try to recover the incriminating notebook from the dead mountaineer. They work efficiently in tandem, literally keeping even pace with one another.

[talk about heart-wrenching cave scenes here]

And when they’re free, this closeness and ability to be on the same wavelength is displayed when they are confronted by the gunman looking to destroy the evidence. He grabs Parker and points a gun to her head, demanding that Eliot hand over the notebook. She yells at him to not hand it over, but in actuality, she is distracting the gunman from noticing her sliding the dead man’s cellphone with an incriminating video into his pocket. Eliot plays along and into the bit, throwing the notebook over to get Parker back.

[talk about hardison being so happy to hear parker (and eliot) over the comms. talk about how he isn't expecting a hug and is resigned (if not content) to do a high five and is floored when parker practically jumps into his arms. where she knows it's safe and warm.]

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stellamancer · 10 months

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bkdk x reader 👀

Okay BYEEEEE 🏃‍♀️

I can't believe you, omg.

You open the door, expecting to find the bag of food you'd ordered to be delivered, and you do.

But you find Katsuki too.

And he looks positively livid.

Katsuki glowers at you, teeth bared menacingly. "You can order fuckin' DoorDash, but ya can't answer your fuckin' phone?"

You open your mouth, hoping an excuse will come out, but it doesn't— anything you could possibly say is trapped, lodged behind a lump in your throat that you can't get rid of. Katsuki stares expectantly, oddly patient as he waits for you to explain yourself.

Not that you intend to.

In hindsight, it would have been better to just shut the door in his face, saying you'll talk to him and Izuku when you're good and ready— a promise you don't intend to keep. But, Katsuki is nothing if not relentless, and worse than him is—

You duck down, and push past Katsuki, running. It's nothing short of a miracle that he doesn't catch you then and there, his speed and reflexes far, far superior to your own. You barrel down the hallway of your apartment complex, and you can hear him chasing after you. It won't be long before he catches up to you, and if he does you'll be forced to talk. And you don't want to do that.

So you do something a little crazy.

You reach the stairs and instead of attempting to run down them, you latch onto the hand rail at the top and using your momentum from running, you swing yourself over the side to jump all the way down the entire flight of stairs.

Behind you, Katsuki yells something, your name or maybe it's—

As you're falling, something grabs you, and you know the feel, the ghostly sensation of Black Whip wrapped around your body, the tendrils buzzing with a gentle vibration.

Izuku.

You hadn't seen him, but you should have known he'd be here. Would have insisted on it even. You're lowered to the ground, but you remain wrapped up. Katsuki may be the more fiery of the two, but ironically enough, you think Izuku is the more merciless one.

He appears, approaching you with a frown deep set into his features, his eyes wide and concerned. You're hit with a pang of guilt and you don't know if Izuku means to wield his expressions like a weapon, but it's effective.

"Please," he pleads, stepping closer. Katsuki appears behind him, looking to have hopped the stairs as well. He watches, frowning still, as Izuku does the dirty work. What a perfect pair they are, you think in annoyance. Izuku takes another step toward you, repeating. "Please. We just want to talk, okay?"

#requests #erika tag #nikuniku fics #it's not explicitly reader x bkdk #i'm sorry erikaaaa #it's only implied #i actually don't even know what the fuck is happening here #lmaoo i thought of something cute intially #and then thought no #that's how we got here #i just wanted to write a chase scene LMAOO #i didn't want to go too crazy so it's short lmao #that and i don't think anyone could outrun these two working together for long if they didn't have a quirk

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mrsoharaa · 5 months

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The waft of the brisk autumn breeze coils into the subtlety of your trembling skin. Your small hands cling more securely along the soften burnt orange throw tussled along your shoulders, restraining the comforting warmth it brought to you. The mixed sounds of the crispy air and the crackling fire dancing before you soothing you into a steep haze of coziness and enlightenment.

Embracing the remaining remnants of autumns brimming, natural beauty.

Your body relaxes more as ascending heat permeates into the back of your body. Inviting, searing breaths trickling along the back of your neck and ear, large, safe hands drape around the curve of your waist, broaden chest pressing into the clothe of your back. Preserving the welcoming warmth that secured you from the wooing, chilly weather surrounding you.

You tilt your head backwards, nestling gently against the firmness of his steady chest as your eyes meet up to his. Flickering hues of deep honey and chestnut gazing softly, delicately down at you with such adoration and comfort. A content smile weaving across your relaxed face, adoring every subtle, handsome feature that crafted his beautiful face.

"Are you cold, mi amor?" his voice silked of pure enthrallment, laced with such delicacy and care, his embrace around you matching his gentleness and tender towards you.

"Mm, just a little...but it's alright, it's beautiful out tonight and you're here keeping me warm" you beam a brighter, softer smile up at him, snuggling more closely into his widen chest. Noting the widening smile on his face span across his strong cheekbones, nestles his chin onto the dip of your left shoulder, placing pliant kisses along your cheek and jawline lovingly.

"It is beautiful out..." he glimpses up at the bright, starry night sky, quickly back to your face to intently admire every flawless aspect of your beauty glimmer with such honing allure and bewitchment.

He kisses your jaw one last time before pecking a chaste kiss onto your shoulder, all while still wallowing in your glowing grace.

He couldn't be more luckier to have you in his embrace. In his life, to be exact.

Totally not completely self indulgent btw lool

#idekkkk #i just wanted to scribble something about being held endearingly near a bonfire in autumns chilly night with this man 🥺🍂🤎#this was meant to only be a sentence or two long lmao #i hate when i get too invested lmao #if this is corny- i'm not sorry lol #miguel o'hara x reader #spiderverse #atsv #autumn 🍂🤎

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