tiny's hot dogs

anonymous asked:

So, how about this: Katsuki gets nudes from his s/o, dressed only in his jacket with his name on the back and some fancy underwear, while he's doing hero work or something important. Bonus points if he actually can't leave right away and s/o keeps sending better and better angles!

First, I love you, thank you.
Second, I only do two characters per scenarios, so I’m going to do headcanons for Baku and scenarios for the other two angels. It’s mostly because someone requested something similar on my kacchan blog, and I’m being a lazy butt and conjoining the two, so you still get the scenario bro.

Nsfw (kinda) below!

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Dark Side of Your Room | Episode 4

Originally posted by dailyjugheadjones

This is a sequel to At the Drive-In. However, having read the prequel is not necessarily a requirement. I leave that up to your discretion.

At The Drive-In: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 + Epilogue

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairing: Jughead x Reader, Jughead x Betty
Word Count: 3,759
Warnings: I swear, mentions of drug and alcohol use. Them’s fightin’ words. I also did not proofread :) because I am Trashlord Quill :)
Summary: Jughead and Reader reconnect at Southside High where he notices that she’s wearing a very familiar leather jacket. It’s not long until he has a jacket of his own.
A/N: Part four yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaas. My love for this story is slowly being re-ignited. How about yours????

I don’t believe in saints
They never make mistakes
I know it’s not my place
Who am I to tell you that you need to change?

She’s sitting on the sagging couch with her weight balanced on her right hip pretending to pay attention to a hockey game on the 32” tv screen screen sitting in the corner. Across the small living room The Man is relaxed in his reclining chair wearing his lucky jersey and loosely holding his first beer of the day. She can tell his heart isn’t in the game. As much as he pretends not to care, she knows that he is listening just as hard as she is for the crunch of gravel beneath tires.

Sean Cafferty has been a foster parent for almost two decades and is known as The Man, short for The Man of Few Words. Y/N hasn’t figured out if her foster father doesn’t have much to say or if he’s just too tired after work to waste his breath on words that have no real purpose being said.

What she has figured out is that The Man is utterly devoted to his wife and that his aloofness towards her was not an indicator of his feelings. He shows people how he cares with small actions that could go unnoticed for days: a hinge that no longer squeaks, a flower on her bedside table, a plush toy on her bookshelf. She would feel invisible and then he’d do something to show that he saw her: hiding her vegetables in his napkin, giving her a cookie before dinner, and plugging in the heating pad when she has cramps. The Man of Few Words has one catch phrase and it was “call me when you get there” the implied so I know that you’re safe goes unspoken.

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Okay but hear me out.

Why isn’t Kirishima/Kaminari a ship yet???

I mean really

  • It would be so fluffy
  • full of bad puns and happy jokes and showing each other videos of animals and people falling off of things hilariously
  • Playing Mario Kart at Kirishima’s while his mom makes them those tiny hot dog octopuses
  • Kaminari between Kirishima’s legs while they play
  • ((and if Kirishima begins tickling him while they’re playing in order to distract him and take the lead THERE’S NO PROOF IT HAPPENED))
  • Just zappy kisses and Kirishima laughing as he takes it
  • Trading Pokemon cards 
  • ((Kaminari has nothing but Zebstrikas and Pikachus and Kirishima is like WHERE’S THE STEEL AND FIGHTING TYPES???))
  • And when they finally move in with each other they fall into such an easy pattern just
  • Finishing each other’s sentences
  • Ordering for each other at restaurants
  • They’re one of those oddly in sync couples that just KNOWS each other’s movements like
  • When Kirishima is cooking he reaches for the salt but Kaminari is already there handing it to him
  • “Do I have plans on Friday?”
    “You have a hair appointment.”
    “Thanks babe.”
  • They just become a part of each other so seamlessly
  • Give me clingy Kirishima
  • Kirishima that needs constant contact and reaffirmation and love
  • When Kaminari lays on his stomach and Kirishima rests his head on his lower back where his shirt has ridden up
  • Kirishima casually kissing his shoulder where his collar scoops down a bit
  • Kirishima casually slipping his hand beneath the hem of Kaminari’s shirt
  • Running his fingers along his lower back
  • Placing his hand on the back of his neck so he can tug on strands of Kaminari’s hair
  • Hooking his finger through his belt look as they walk
  • Kissing Kaminari’s shoulder as they sit on the couch, just to let him know he’s there
  • Wrapping his arms around Kaminari’s waist from behind as they walk
  • Also for self indulgent purposes
    Kaminari is 2 CM shorter than Kirishima SO HEAR ME OUT
    Kaminari having to stand on his tiptoes just barely just a tiny bit to be able to see right into Kirishima’s eyes
  • Really just the two of them being nerds together and cuddling and being so fluffy and happy and perfect and
  • Kirishima/Kaminari.
  • Why not.
Newt x reader :: Close Encounters - Part 2


Notes: Thanks for being so patient with these, everyone! I hope you like this second part of the series and have a wonderful day/night/4 a.m. fanfic reading session! :) 

WC: 1,744

Originally posted by noches-de-llanto

On  doctor’s request, you had been given the rest of the week off. As for the robbers, they were still at large and nobody seemed to have any leads. It was if they had vanished like steam. Every other worker in the store was on high alert and an air of suspicion made everyone look over their shoulders. On your first day back you were greeted by a small army of security guards posted at every imaginable exit and the air was warm from nearly every lightbulb burning.

You instinctively reached up to touch your bare neck. There was a tiny golden locket that normally hung there. A gift from your grandparents, it was something of talisman for you. You felt safe wearing it and you touched it periodically throughout the day as a reminder that yes, you actually existed. It had gone missing the day of the robbery and you assumed it had fallen off your neck in the struggle and was taken. You were grateful to have survived, of course, but losing the keepsake kept your heart in a steady deflation.

As you stood behind the counter, rather dejectedly rubbing your neck, a man slowly approached. “Hello, sir,” you tried to draw as much pep into your voice as you could, “Good morning! Can I help you with anything today?”

You threw him a huge smile that seemed to disarm him momentarily.

“Erm, yes.” He dug a hand into his coat pocket and rummaged around for something, gripping his case in the other. Something about him looked…odd. Oddly familiar? You were about to ask him if he was a regular customer when he produced a tiny bundle. It seemed to be wrapped up in extremely crinkled brown paper and he placed it on the counter between the two of you. You looked at him expectantly as he seemed to be searching for what to say.

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