"𝘛𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴

"𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘺'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘪𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘪 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴. 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘙𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘪 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘢𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘭𝘭."

"𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘵... 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵."

"𝘙𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘥𝘰 𝘐𝘯𝘰𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘯, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 ,𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵."

This is it. This is the show

LISTEN UP AGAIN KIDS STOP REBLOGGING THIS FUCKING GARBAGE POST. IT IS 100% FUCKING BULLSHIT AND CAN AND MOST DEFINITELY WILL LITERALLY KILL. DO YOU NOT SEE WARNING LABELS THAT SAY “DO NOT INDUCE VOMITING”? THEY AREN’T FUCKING AROUND. YOU CAN FUCKING BURN THEIR ESOPHAGUS BY CAUSING VOMITING, CAUSE CHOKING, DROWNING, OR MAKE IT WORSE! AGAIN DO NOT FORCE ANYTHING DOWN ANYONE’S THROAT. THEY. CAN. DROWN. IF SOMEONE IS LOSING CONCIOUSNESS ALL THE CHIT CHAT IN THE WORLD WILL NOT PREVENT IT AT THAT POINT THEY ARE IN SERIOUS DANGER. “Buuut i don’t wanna take them to the hospital!!!” WELL SUNSHINE GLAD YOU’D RATHER HAVE A DEAD FRIEND THAN A LIVING ONE BUT YOU’RE IN LUCK CALL FUCKING POISON CONTROL. THEY ARE NOT THE COPS. THEY WILL HELP YOU. AND IF THEY SAY GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL YOU GO TO THE FUCKING HOSPITAL. NO EXCUSES. 0. NONE. I have seen this shit cross my dash SO MANY TIMES so PLEASE fucking reblog this and prevent some well meaning idiot from accidentally killing someone they love!

do you ever think about how a series of tiny choices like "I guess I'll watch that show" can like totally and entirely change huge aspects of your life

⟁ SENSITIVE ft. BOOTHILL.

⠀ — “you get all excited for me to fix you up and call you a good boy.”

⠀ OR

⠀ — a sensitive spot during a repair leaves him melting into your callused little hands.

⚠︎ mechanic!reader, so much flirting im kind of sick, he whimpers i have an agenda, this is like 90% dialogue sorry, he wants u sooo bad. wc 1k, from this req.

“y’know darlin,” boothill managed to breathe out through a taut jaw and clenched teeth. “you bein’ this close ain’t exactly helpin’ me focus none.”

your fingers were slow, careful, precise as they pushed a few tiny wires apart, giving view deeper inside the little panel on boothill’s throat.

the position you two stood in was one all two familiar, boothill perched on your workbench with you between his thighs— the only new variables being your face way closer than he’s used to and your fingers proding around in his surprisingly sensitive wires.

it was an…odd sensation, to say the least. a small unpleasant stinging that simultaneously stimulated a rather pleasant shiver up his back with every small poke.

“time and place, cowboy.”

you responded quietly, tone a little flat with your tease from concentration.

“can’t help lettin’ my mind— wander, can i now?” his breath hitched a bit as you nicked a particularly touchy wire.

“if you let me finish this,” you lifted your head enough to meet his eyes, free hand gently smoothing out the crease in his brow. “i’ll let you show me just how wild your imagination can get.”

boothill bit back a scruff chuckle at that. 

“that enough incentive for you to sit still?”

“well, i reckon that’s plent— mmgh!”

a pair of mechanical hands tightly grab onto your hips as his shoulders tense, a knee-jerk result of your tweezers finding the out of place wire you’d been looking around for.

your hands paused, opting to ignore the way he audibly whimpered for raising your gaze a second time to check on him.

“you hangin’ in there?”

boothill’s fingers flexed as they held onto you, relaxing from squeezing your pants to a more gentle cradle of your hips.

“you know,” he swallowed thickly— as if his throat could even dry out, likely just a natural reflex— “you got a way of makin’ fixin’ me up feel real special.”

the slight waver to his voice isn’t lost on your ears— it was quite loud in them, actually.

“i’m hangin’ in fine, don’t worry your pretty head none.”

carefully retracting your tweezers, you stood up straight enough to lightly push his hat up, giving view to his face and cupping your hand over a blue-hued cheek.

“wanna take a break?” 

he nearly had to clutch his chest with the gentle concern that laced your tone.

boothill knew he was flushed, was purposefully avoiding looking you in the eye because a few pokes to some sensitive spots had him sliding his hands to your waist like a lifeline— not that what he could distantly feel of your skin against the synthesised nerves of his palms weren’t doing much to cool him off anyway. but he did…relax, somewhat. 

he always enjoyed when you’d touch his face, getting to feel all the unique little details of you; the gentle drum of your pulse and the little calluses from your tools. it somehow always manages to make the tension in his body ebb away, draining with an exhale that lightly fans against your wrist.

he shook his head with a quiet clear of his throat— another unnecessary function that served more as a tick than anything.

“nah, nah i’m alright.” he assured. it didn’t make him any less embarrassed to be having such a reaction. 

big bad criminal until you get a little too fudgin’ touchy, apparently.

“let’s just get this finished up, yeah? maybe we can move onto somethin’ more pleasant.”

your thumb gave two gentle taps to his cheekbone before it pulled away, reaching for your tweezers for the nth time.

“that’s my boy.”

oh how boothill’s chest bloomed at the simple praise, the endearing ‘my’ that slipped in with it licking up his ribs and curling to rest along where a drumming heart should have been.

“jus’ be gentle with me, will ya sugar plum?”

“you know i've always got ya.”

each plug or untangle of a little yellow or red cable had his systems humming, fingers occasionally curling into your hips every time a little surge left him biting his cheek a little harder.

“we’re almost done,” your voice is icing on an already cavity-inducing cake, though he’ll gladly take a toothache if it’s for you. “just a little longer.”

boothill was going fist to fist and losing with the urge to completely melt under your deft fingers.

“…keep talkin’ to me,” he requested with a murmurmurmur, cautious not to move too much. “helps me stay on t—” he had to bite back another whimper, cheek going between his teeth and eyes going to the ceiling. “—task.”

boothill didn’t miss the little tug of your lips.

“you know, you do this thing when you get shy.” you mused quietly, breath meeting the shell of his ear. “you bite your cheek ‘n look away. it’s cute.”

boothill couldn’t help but let out a breathy chuckle at your deduction. he tried to regain some of his composure, though the colour in his cheeks continued to betray him.

“i don’t know ‘bout shy,” he rumbled, keeping his voice steady as he could. “but i’ll take cute if it means i get to hear you keep sweet talkin’ me. keep this up and i might start enjoyin’ these repairs a lil too much.”

his voice was a little strained, though still held his usual humour.

“like you don’t love em already.” you teased back, gently closing the panel on his neck as it re-sealed with a small hiss. “you get all excited for me to fix you up, call you a good boy and send you on your merry way.”

“i’m still waitin’ on that last bit, y’know?”

you shook your head, popping his hat off his head and placing it on your own.

“good boy,” you pinched his cheek endearingly. “you’re all done. do you want a lolipop too?”

“think i deserve somethin’ a lil sweeter than a lolipop, don’t you sugar?” boothill’s face unknowingly deepens at the sight of you in his hat, brave words betrayed by a nervous tap in his finger and more blue to the apples of his cheeks.

“we’ll save it for when you’ve got a real booboo,” you took his hat off, using the brim to lightly tilt his chin up and give him a tender kiss on the cheek. for such a heavy hunk of metal, he nearly began to float.

“but there’s something to hold your sweet tooth for now.”

…

“boothill?”

“y..yeah, sweet pea?”

“you’re overheating.”

⠀ MASTERLIST / GOT A REQUEST ?

𝓢𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐒 ;; mitsuya

Wattpad

𝓢𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐒 ;; t.mitsuya

- she'll be his, no? [yandere short story]

daycare / tendou satori (on Wattpad)  https://www.wattpad.com/story/262298933-daycare

"But I don't want a nap!" 

A story in which two high schoolers volunteer at a day care together and slowly form a special bond through looking after some kids.