queer-obsession

[queer-obsession]

"You could get up early and do it before work" I could also wait for a magic beanstalk to start growing in my living room LMAO. Let's focus on things that happen in the real world

[queer-obsession]

"See how i simply just scroll past the content i do not want to see, Tomura?"

"See how i don't message creators to tell them i'm unfollowing them after i read ONE fic i don't like for whatever reason, Tomura?"

"See how i don't demand or beg for part two's in the comment section, Tomura?"

"See how i don't send hateful words and death threats to writers who write kinks that i do not have or participate in, Tomura?"

"See how i just block the unwanted tags, creators, and general content i do not want to see, Utilizing the tools given to me for these exact reasons instead of being a whiney peice of shit on the internet while hiding behind anon, Tomura?"

"See how i remember that these writers are real people producing free content, Tomura?

"See how instead of being a dumbass with no compassion, empathy, or critical thinking skills and subjecting everyone else to it, i shut the fuck up and clock in, Tomura?"

"See how i actually read the big, bold, dark red letters at the top of the screen that says 'Dark content', didn't decide to click 'keep reading' anyway, and procede to breate the creator after reading the whole entire thing instead of clicking off, Tomura?"

I mean i could go on and on, holy shit.

[queer-obsession]

Enough to Go By (Chapter 29) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Your best friend vanished on the same night his family was murdered, and even though the world forgot about him, you never did. When a chance encounter brings you back into contact with Shimura Tenko, you'll do anything to make sure you don't lose him again. Keep his secrets? Sure. Aid the League of Villains? Of course. Sacrifice everything? You would - but as the battle between the League of Villains and hero society unfolds, it becomes clear that everything is far more than you or anyone else imagined it would be. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28

Chapter 29

You push open the doors and step forward into an enormous room. Enormous, and empty, like an auditorium with the seats stripped or the world’s fanciest gym. Even the sound of your breathing seems to echo. When you look across the room, you see an absurdly tall dais, and an ornate chair on top of it. Your brain supplies the right word. Throne. A red-cloaked figure lies across the bottom steps, head pillowed on his arms, white hair fanned across the steps and his shoulders. Tomura doesn’t look up when the doors shut behind you and Spinner.

He speaks, though. “It’s not working, Spinner. I can’t shut him out.”

“Yes you can,” Spinner says. “You’ve done it before.”

“Not when he’s here.”

“Somebody else is here,” Spinner says. He waves you forward, and you force yourself to walk at a normal pace instead of bolting to Tomura’s side. “Come on. This is going to help.”

“No.” Tomura seems to slump further. “Run. Before it’s too late.”

“Not happening. I promised Saintess I’d look after you,” Spinner says. “I finally got some help.”

“Tomura,” you say, cutting him off as he curses at Spinner. His head snaps up, and he turns to stare at you. Your breath catches at the sight of him. “Hi.”

He looks awful. Maybe worse than you look, although it’s been a while since you looked in the mirror. He looks awful, and almost angry as he gets to his feet. He looks past you, to Spinner. “If this is some kind of joke –”

“It’s not a joke,” you say. “I can tell one if you want.”

“It’s not her,” Tomura says. He won’t look at you, even as you draw closer to him. “She only knew one joke.”

“I met All Might,” you say. Tomura freezes. “He’s even more unfuckable in person.”

Tomura turns to face you slowly. You don’t know how to quantify his expression at first — then it contorts in a way you recognize, one that makes you so happy you can hardly speak. “Right now?” he says, forcing the words through gritted teeth. “You’re going to make that joke right now?”

“Like you said, it’s the only one I know.” You shrug. Your eyes are blurring. You don’t think you’ve ever cried happy tears before — except maybe the last time you were reunited with Tenko after thinking you’d never see him again. “I’ll stop telling it when you stop laughing.”

“I’m not laughing,” Tomura says. He closed the space between you in a single step and yanks you into his arms.

He hugs you so tightly your ribs creak and all the air whooshes out of your lungs and Spinner hollers at him to be careful, but you don’t care. You’re back with Tenko, back where you belong. He’s alive and so are you and as long as that’s true, there’s still a chance, however small, that things will work out. You want to bury your face in his shoulder, but he’s beaten you to it with yours, and you decide after a moment that it’s fair. You’ve just been missing him, worrying about him. He’s thought you were dead. He can hold onto you as long as he wants.

Tenko’s voice is a whisper against the side of your neck. “I get it now,” he says. You make a questioning sound. “Why you were like that the first time. I’m worse than you and it was only a month.”

“Except I never believed you were dead,” you remind him. “It was just a reunion.”

The best reunion ever, as unexpected and dramatic as it was, isn’t anything compared to a resurrection. “I told you she wasn’t dead,” Spinner says from somewhere off to one side. Tomura growls at him to go away as he feels along the edge of your prison jumpsuit, looking for the zipper. “You two can — do that — later. Right now we need to get our shit together. Can you keep him out?”

“Easy.” Tomura’s voice is muffled by his mouth against your shoulder. He’s been biting down, just like in the old days, but now he draws away and kisses the mark he left. “A lot easier now.”

“Tell us if he starts trying to get back in,” you say. “We can help.”

“You’ll know,” Spinner tells you. You don’t like the sound of that at all. “Okay. Saintess was going to tell me how she got out of –”

“Further back.” Tomura sits down on the floor and pulls you down with him, directly into his lap. “From the beginning.”

“Do you need this stuff?” Spinner asks. He’s studying the file and medication box the heroes sent along with you — the kind of stuff they’d send on a real prisoner transfer. “It’s — wait — you had a –”

The next words will either be ‘miscarriage’ or ‘heart attack’, and neither of those are important right now. “We’ll get to that,” you say. “Okay, so I didn’t wake up until a few days in. The first person I talked to was Present Mic. He was my main interrogator, and he wanted to know about the bullets. Apparently they couldn’t find any after the battle.”

“Yeah, I grabbed them.” Spinner says. You give him a grateful look. “It’s a good thing you’ve made so many. We’ve needed them.”

Present Mic said the bullets hadn’t been used again. “For what?”

“We’ll get to that,” Tomura mumbles, his face still pressed against your shoulder. “Tell us first.”

You’re able to cough up an immediately useful piece of information — Kurogiri’s location, and the fact that he’s been partially deprogrammed — and from there it’s on to explaining how you got out. Or why you were let out. Spinner asks questions, but Tomura doesn’t. He just sits with you, wrapped around you, holding on with shaky hands. When you first mention All For One’s name, Tomura freezes. You fumble for his hand, link your little finger with his, and feel him slowly relax again. Is that all it takes to set him off? You’re going to have to be really careful.

“That fixed it fast,” Spinner remarks, nodding at your hands. “I should have tried that.”

“Wouldn’t have worked with you,” Tomura says, and Spinner snorts. “I have it. I’m fine. What else?”

“They’re a lot more scared of — him — than they are of you,” you say. You remember the clear desperation in their faces. “They know they’re losing. I think they want to negotiate, or they’re pretending to want to negotiate. Either way they want this to stop. And they think they’ve got a better shot at it if you’re in charge.”

“I mean, yeah,” Spinner says. You blink. “We need to stop him, too. Not just because he’s body-jacking Shigaraki. Because of what he’s making him do.”

You look at Tomura. Tomura looks sick. “What is it?” You ask, but he won’t look at you, suddenly. Nope. You catch his face between your hands and turn him back to face you. “Tell me. Please.”

“Stealing quirks. He takes them from everyone, when he’s in charge.” Tomura’s eyes are blank in a way that reminds you too much of the transformation, too much of the moments where he screamed until his vocal cords snapped and he couldn’t scream anymore. “I spin them off when it’s me. To anybody. If there are too many — he needs all of them. He can’t do what he wants to do without them.”

“We don’t know what he wants. The doctor did, but he wouldn’t say,” Spinner says. He looks at you. “You spent more time with him than anybody. What’s All For One trying to do by collecting so many quirks?”

You listened to everything the doctor said, because you didn’t trust him. He talked more about All For One’s plans after All For One was transplanted, and you spell it out hesitantly, racking your brain. “He said there was a limit to the normal human body, to how many quirks it could take. Part of why so many things about Tomura’s body had to change was so he could collect even more quirks. After a certain number of quirks —”

The name pops into your head. “Quirk singularity,” you say. “In theory, after a certain number of quirks, the growth becomes exponential. The quirks combine until they’re indistinguishable from one another. Until the person who has them is omnipotent. But even the Nomus start to break down past six or seven, so a person would have to be specially engineered — and their mindset would have to match —”

“What happened to my body. That kind of engineering,” Tomura says, and you nod miserably. “You warned me. I should have listened.”

You wish he had. Everything would be different. “So if he steals Shigaraki’s body all the way and manages to collect enough quirks,” Spinner starts, then stops. “Then what?”

“He becomes not-human. More than human. A god.” You struggle to remember the doctor’s notes, what little you could decipher from them. “Or he can’t contain that power and it expands outward, and it, um —”

“What?”

“That’s the doomsday part,” you say. “If All For One is the foundation quirk, then all the other quirks will serve to amplify it. It’ll consume quirk after quirk, and with every one it consumes, its reach will grow.”

“It’ll swallow up every quirk in the world,” Tomura says. “If the doomsday thing doesn’t happen, he’ll do it himself. That’s what he wants. For everything to be him.”

You don’t doubt it. You knew All For One was insane and hideously evil, and this fits well within those parameters, but you’re struggling to comprehend the sheer scale of it. If it’s possible — how is it possible? Theory is one thing, but the idea of forcing hundreds of quirks, thousands of them, into Tomura’s body is so horrible and so outside anything you’ve ever considered that it’s hard to imagine how it could be done, how it would work. The laws of nature should stop it in its tracks.

But the laws of nature can be bent. Your quirk bends them, in its own tiny way. If All For One pulls it off, it’ll be in some small part because of you — because your quirk will hold Tomura’s body together until your heart stops beating.

“We’ve been trying to stop him from getting the quirks,” Spinner says, and you force yourself to focus. “That’s where your bullets come in. Once he decides he wants a quirk from somebody, the only way to make sure he doesn’t get it is to destroy it or die before he can take it. And he doesn’t let people die.”

“What?”

“He gave me Overhaul. When he was in charge.” A shudder runs through Tomura’s body. “When someone dies, he uses it to bring them back. Some of them. Enough that he can take their quirk.”

“So we destroy the quirks first,” Spinner says. “I heard him say that there should be a way to bring the quirks back, but he’d need to know, like, the exact specifications of the quirk to do that. And since the doctor got captured, he doesn’t have that anymore.”

That’s news to you. “The doctor got captured? When?”

“Same time as they grabbed Skeptic. We hit Kobe and they hit our research facility at the same time,” Spinner says. Tomura’s gotten quiet. He’s holding you close, his head against your shoulder. “We drove them off, so we still have most of the stuff, but we lost those two. So now All For One can’t reconstruct the quirks your bullets destroy.”

“Even if we do that forever, he can still take more quirks,” you say. You twist in Tomura’s arms to look at him. “We could use the bullets to destroy All For One.”

Tomura shakes his head. “We thought about that,” Spinner says. “I tried it on a Nomu first, and it worked, sure — but only on one quirk at a time. And we didn’t get to choose which one.”

So you could get lucky, and get rid of All For One on the first try. Or with the sheer number of quirks Tomura now has, you could get rid of something else. “Do you think we should do it like that?” Tomura looks up at you. “You were there while the quirks were being transferred. If you think that’s the best way —

“It’s too much of a risk,” you say. You can’t guarantee a direct hit on All For One, and there’s the risk of hitting Super-Regeneration instead. You won’t take that chance. “We’ll think of something else.”

“We’d better do it fast,” Spinner says. He looks hopefully at you. “Could you take it out? Like Shigaraki said, you were there during the transplants —”

You know where it is. You know how it went on — exactly how it went on, exactly what it took to attach All For One’s parasitic consciousness to Tomura’s body. The problem is taking it off. You’d be fighting against Super-Regeneration, combined with your own quirk, and the process of removing the palms of both of Tomura’s hands would be agonizingly painful. You’d have to sedate him, but you have no idea how much sedative it would take to put him under, if he could even be put under at all. And all of that would take time to prepare. Time the two of you don’t have. Time the world doesn’t have, because if Tomura’s right about what All For One is planning — and you’ve got no reason to think he’s wrong — the entire world is at risk, too.

You rack your brain. “Okay. Maybe if I can hit just your hands with the deleter compound — on a Nomu, there’d be no way to target the exact quirk site, but I know where it is, so maybe —”

“It’s a risk —”

“It’s worth it.” Tomura stands up without shifting you out of his lap. He sets you down on your feet with absurd ease, takes one step back, and holds out his hands to you, palms-up. “Do it now.”

You look to Spinner. Spinner starts fumbling in his pockets for quirk-canceling bullets, and a split second later there’s a resounding crack from somewhere just above your head. It scares you so badly that you stagger, and you’re not the only one. And your stumble’s going to cost you. When you look up, you see the ceiling coming down in pieces, red sky peeking through, before an enormous chunk of concrete and rebar blots it out.

It’s there for a second — then it’s gone, and you’re blinking dust out of your eyes. Tomura grabs you. “Hold on,” he orders, and you wrap your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, leaving both hands free. “Spinner, heads-up!”

Another piece of the ceiling is falling towards Spinner. Tomura Decays it with the touch of one hand, then grabs Spinner with the other, dragging him and carrying you to the corner of the room. “Stay down,” he orders. You let go of him and wedge yourself in next to Spinner. “I’ve got this.”

He has both hands held upwards, ready to catch and destroy the debris that’s raining steadily downwards towards you. The noise is ear-shattering, but Spinner somehow manages to be louder when he presses his mouth against your ear. “Is this the heroes?”

Not unless they misrepresented their position so skillfully that you fell for it — but if they were lying, why would Manami and Mitsuko and Ryuhei go along with it? The heroes who could still fight were headed to Seikan to try to hold off the PLF, with every expectation that they’d be crushed eventually. Containing All For One has been their top priority since the war began. There’s no way they would give up on it for an unsuccessful assassination attempt on Tomura. Unless this isn’t an assassination. If it’s not an assassination, and it’s not the heroes —

Tomura’s body twists. He staggers. One hand comes up to claw at the side of his head, while another releases a blast you realize must be from Air Cannon, aimed directly upwards to blast the debris away. You look at Spinner, only to see Spinner’s terrified face, inches away from your own. “It’s him.”

No. You scramble to Tomura’s side, prying his hand away from his head, turning his face back to yours. Something horrible is happening to his eyes. Their pupils are vanishing, reappearing, vanishing — reappearing again. “Tomura, hang on. I know you can do it. Stay with me!”

“Do you remember?” Tomura’s voice is his own when he speaks, but it’s broken up with agony and fear. “What you promised?”

You’ve made him so many promises. You’ve kept them, too. “I remember,” you say desperately. “Tomura, please —”

“Keep it,” Tomura says through clenched teeth. His pupils vanish, gone for far longer this time than before, only to reappear again. “I’m sorry.”

“Tomura —“ Your voice cuts off abruptly as Tomura kisses you.

It’s brief and it’s messy. His teeth sink into your lower lip and draw blood, and you gasp — and something passes between the two of you, from his hand to yours, something that tears along your nerves and sets the palms of your hands on fire. You lose your balance, stumble backwards, and Tomura makes it official a second later when he throws you back, directly into Spinner as Spinner’s struggling to rise. Both of you topple, and Tomura stalks away, heading to the center of the throne room. The center of the throne room, where All For One has just stepped down from Gigantomachia’s hand.

“Tomura,” he greets. His voice is just as terrible as it was the first time you heard it. “Apologies for the unwieldy entrance, but I’m sure you’ll fix it when the mood strikes. How are our quirks treating you?”

“You know how.” Tomura’s voice — it’s not Tomura’s voice anymore. It’s not Tomura anymore. “It’s a relief to dispense with this at last. This vessel and his friends had plans.”

All For One chuckles. Both versions of him. “Nomu,” they call as one, and four Nomu descend from the sky to settle around them on the floor. They’re not the only ones who’ve arrived. The members of the PLF who survived are flooding into the room, too. You see Re-Destro among them. He looks like hell. “Nomu, go and retrieve Tomura’s most loyal followers. Let’s see how far their loyalty extends.”

The Nomus set off towards you, but the PLF is in their way. You think the PLF might be in their way on purpose — Re-Destro especially. You and Spinner have seconds at best. Spinner turns to you. “He gave you a quirk,” he says. “What was it?”

“I don’t know,” you say. Tears are running down your face. “I’m sorry. I don’t —”

And then the Nomus are upon you, wrenching the two of you apart. You’re powerless to stop them, but Spinner isn’t. He must have gotten some kind of quirk from Tomura, because he bulks up in an instant, not growing taller but broader, sturdier. One punch knocks the Nomu reaching for him flat on its back. “Don’t,” Spinner snarls. “Don’t touch me. I’ll walk.”

“As you wish,” All For One responds in that strange doubled voice. “Whenever you’re ready, Iguchi Shuiichi.”

Spinner looks furious, the same way he’s looked every time someone’s called him the name he went by before. He starts walking and the crowd parts for him. You thrash to be put down — you want to walk, too — but the Nomu won’t let you go. All For One is okay with Spinner being free to move around. Not okay with you. Why?

Spinner’s already standing before the throne when the Nomu drops you in a heap on the ground. You stay down, playing for time, but when Spinner tries to help you up, you can’t refuse his hand. You take it, letting him pull you to your feet, and look up. All For One’s original body sits in the throne at the top of the steps. Down below, just a few steps above you and Spinner, stands the body that used to hold Spinner’s best friend and the person you love most in the entire world. Love, or loved? You can’t say for sure. Your love for Tenko is immovable, unyielding. But this isn’t him.

Both versions of All For One speak in unsettling unison. “For two people whose loyalty to Tomura is their only desirable trait, the two of you have done quite a bit to thwart his plans.”

“Your plans. Not his,” Spinner says shortly. “Don’t lie.”

“My plans are also Tomura’s plans. I have a great deal of respect for his wishes.” The fact that All For One is puppeting Tomura’s body, claiming to understand anything about what Tomura wants, is obscene. “Which is why, rather than killing you both, I’m giving you a chance to make amends.”

Spinner curses at him. He can do that. The part of you that remembers being quirkless, remembers cowering and yielding to avoid being hurt, seizes control over your mouth. “How?”

“In Iguchi’s case, accepting the full set of quirks I’ve selected for him,” All For One says. You know what a full set of quirks does to a person’s mind if they aren’t ready for it, if they don’t want it. “But as for you, Saintess — your friends’ choice of name was apt, wasn’t it? You played the part so skillfully from the beginning that even I was fooled. Do you know how rare that is?”

All For One spoke to you with condescension before. Now his voice holds at least a veneer of respect. You need him not to do that. You need to play for time, and you need to give him a chance to do what villains love to do — twist the knife. “I didn’t fool you, sir,” you say, and the inhuman chuckle that issues from Tomura’s mouth almost makes you gag. “When you looked at me, you saw what you wanted to see. A worthless, quirkless piece in Tomura’s game.”

“Oh, but you were never worthless. And never quirkless, neither.” Both of All For One’s faces split into leers. Seeing what it does to Tomura brings tears to your eyes. “Your quirk, beneficial to me as it is, is the least interesting part of you. Far more intriguing is your devotion to the part you chose to play — devotion so strong that you chose to come back to Tomura’s side, even knowing that I would likely kill you for what you did. Devotion like that should not be thrown aside. What must you do to make amends, Saintess? Kneel at Tomura’s feet and show me just how sorry you are.”

“No!” Spinner protests. “Saintess, don’t —”

“I’m sorry,” you say to Spinner. You look up into All For One’s eyes, glimmering with malice inside your best friend’s face. “I can’t lose him again. Even if there’s nothing left. I can’t let him go.”

“There is always something left,” All For One says, almost indulgently. “I can assure you, Tomura will appreciate it very much.”

Something left. You hold tight to that faint piece of hope, remind yourself of the truth — as long as he’s alive and you’re alive, there’s still a chance. And that means you need to think. You need to figure out what quirk Tomura passed to you in the seconds before All For One took over. And you need to figure out what promise Tomura asked you to keep.

You’ve made a lot of promises to Tomura, but you’ve always given them freely. You can count on one hand the number of times he’s asked you to promise something, and he’s almost never used those exact words. All For One is beckoning you forward, but your legs give out before you can set foot on the stairs. It’s not entirely faked, either. “I’m sorry,” you say. “The time I spent with the heroes was — it was hard for me.”

“Yes, I’m sure they were most unkind,” All For One says. The All For One on the throne, not the one on the stairs. “We’re in no rush, Saintess. Whenever you’re ready.”

You try to rise again, but you put your weight on the arm Hawks fractured deliberately, and it caves from beneath you. A promise Tomura asked from you, with those words exactly? There haven’t been many. There’s only been one. When this is over. Promise you’ll take them away.

The quirks. That promise? How are you supposed to do that? You try to rise again, but this time it’s stress and frustration that knocks you down, and a shadow falls over you. All For One is coming. You try once more, plant your palm flat on the ground for maximum balance — and then, as you watch, a web of cracks spreads into the stone around your hand. Did he give you Decay?

The instant the panic surges, the cracks vanish, sealing over like they were never there in the first place. And that’s when it clicks. You look up as All For One’s shadow falls completely over you, Tomura’s face devoid of the horrid leer, his eyes completely blank. There’s nothing about him that’s familiar, except the hand he’s holding out to help you up. You take it, palm to palm, but you need the other, too, and a moment later, it appears in your field of vision. You grasp both of Tomura’s hands and pull yourself to your knees before him.

“Well?” All For One asks, through Tomura’s mouth and his own. “Make amends.”

You shift your grip on Tomura’s hands to ensure maximum contact. The two of you have never held hands this way before, and you lean forward until your forehead rests against his knuckles. What you’re about to do to Tomura might be the worst thing you’ve done to anyone who didn’t die from it. And if you screw it up — if you get it wrong —

If you doubt yourself, you’ll fuck it up for sure. You take a deep breath, clear your head as much as possible. “Forgive me,” you say, and you activate Overhaul.

You have to be fast, and you have to be merciless. If you can’t rip out every atom of All For One, Super-Regeneration will render your efforts moot, and it’ll all be over. But you know every inch of Tomura’s body, because you’re his lover and because you were there when the doctor built him into what he is today, and you know exactly where the margins are, exactly where you need to dissolve the skin from to remove all traces of All For One. You strip all three layers of skin off Tomura’s palms in a single surge of power, and from his throne above the rest of you, All For One screams.

Tomura doesn’t. You look anxiously up into his face as Super-Regeneration rebuilds the layer of skin on his palms, searching for any sign that something’s changed, any hope that something’s worked. The palm that’s regrown under your hand is missing the hole from All For One’s quirk. The pupils of Tomura’s eyes reappear, a split second before they slam shut and he pitches forward, unconscious. You try to catch him, but you’re weak, and you fall backward, directly onto Spinner. “We have to go,” Spinner says, as the ruins of the throne room dissolve into chaos. “Like, now! He’s not done! We have to — you have to walk —”

You struggle upright, pulling Tomura after you, but he’s completely dead weight, and even when Spinner joins you to hold him up from the other side, the two of you are going to be slow. Too slow to make it through the crowd before All For One can pull it together to attack. An enormous shadow falls across you and a scream builds in your throat — but it’s only Re-Destro, bulked out into his ultimate form. You have to wonder how he’s got any stress left to transform after the battle at Seikan, but maybe it’s not a surprise. You have enough stress from what just happened that it feels like your heart might explode.

“Is this it?” Re-Destro asks Spinner. You see Spinner nod. “Take them both and go. I’ll coordinate the secession.”

“No. Shigaraki’s down and she can’t carry him,” Spinner says. “You’re stronger than me. Get them out and I’ll catch up.”

You don’t want to be left alone with Re-Destro. You don’t want to leave Spinner here. “No! Spinner —”

“It’s okay. We planned for this,” Spinner says. His face is grim. “Re-Destro will fill you in. Go!”

He slips away from Tomura’s side, out of your reach, and Re-Destro scoops the two of you up easily. You can feel the strain in his arms, contrasted horribly with Tomura’s limp, almost-lifeless body. When you look up at Re-Destro, the look on his face tells you everything you need to know. This might have been what he and Spinner were hoping for. This might have been some kind of plan. But the leader of the former Meta Liberation Army looks just as lost as you are.

It only lasts for a second. Then Re-Destro’s expression hardens. “Hold on,” he orders you, and breaks into an unsteady run.

<- Chapter 28

taglist: @frog-fans-unite @tannyr98 @enyaaa2222 @issaortiz @lvtuss @shigarakislaughter @deadhands69 @minniessskii @cheeseonatower @evilcookie5 @dance-with-me-in-hell @lacrimae-lotos @xeveryxstarfallx @stardustdreamersisi @shikiblessed @koohiii @warxhammer @agente707 @handumb @boogiemansbitch @baking-ghoul @atspiss @babybehh @sota-soka @sobaism @fiiveweeniies @valentineshearts @aikakuro33 @hayesemmanuel @shiggy-my-babygirl @commercialbreakings @chimaerakirin @absurdlogik, @clemsoup

[queer-obsession]

Emo rat gremlin Shigaraki and his super glam, accessorised, drop dead GORGEOUS God/Goddess of a partner.

It's perfection.

Like

Do you see the vision?

[queer-obsession]

my type is mysterious badass women and soft nerdy men. i yearn so hard

[queer-obsession]

[queer-obsession]

being the last one to send a message before the chat falls into sudden silence always feels like u just made the worst faux pas of your life and you go sorry guys was that weird and they're all like no sorry I was just looking at a leaf on tbe ground leaf.jpg like oh ok

[queer-obsession]

[queer-obsession]

fuuuuck i just realized that the future idealized version of myself cant exist without current me being the catalyst for change and doing hard things. has anybody heard about this

[queer-obsession]

Actual footage of me patently waiting for my favorite author to upload😫😫😫

[queer-obsession]

Can we stop with the 'Shigaraki needs lotion' joke now?

Anyone with chronic eczema will tell you that lotion does fuck all, just gives you slightly moist eczema. Not to mention the countless times I've been told to put lotion on my eczema because 'it's gross and it's making us uncomfortable, you should really take care of yourself more.' Which is the exact reason a lot of you make this joke.

Ffs I'm just sick of it. It's old and it's never really been that funny in the first place

[queer-obsession]

the way every member of the LOV represents a different problem in the bnha universe and hero society, but then none of those problems are actually solved

[queer-obsession]

anime hot take? MHA is the scariest dystopia i have ever seen. we have a world full of powers that range from nothing interesting at all to super duper death hate hate kill murder laser and the only people stopping the violent end of the spectrum are super cops being funded by uh the entire government i guess. in fact the protag even says that hero culture is entirely dependent on being in the spotlight, so we have state funded super cops with next to no legal checks or opposition slobbering for attention by beating the everliving shit out of scawy monstews and like instead of addressing why these people are even acting criminally in the first place the whole world just decided that state sponsored violence was the single effective solution (nothing like real world politics nonono) and the show acts like there is nothing weird about this

[queer-obsession]

Got it in plagued by visions of sir tomura lacing reader’s corset 😵‍💫

Many things have escaped your notice since you learned that you’d be riding to war alongside Sir Tomura, and you’ve forced yourself to acknowledge that at least some of them are forgivable. Forgetting your other chores in order to learn to ride is forgivable. Dining late, if at all, and doing so alongside your Lord in his rooms, is also forgivable — there are lessons to be learned, small forms of magic that might be useful on the road, things you were never taught growing up in the borderlands. To your horror, you’ve even found yourself questioned by the king himself, about whether the path through the Forest Perilous can support the passage of siege weapons, or if they will need to be built upon arrival in the borderlands. In short, there is much to occupy your mind, and little time for things like folding napkins for a feast.

That does not mean, however, that everything that’s slipped from your focus was safe to ignore. For instance, if you’d been folding napkins for a feast, you’d have been aware that there was a feast in the first place — and that because the feast is meant to send off the army in style, you and Sir Tomura are both expected to attend.

And attend in proper attire, no less. You were able to help Sir Tomura dress quickly, but left your own details unaddressed, and when you attempted to run off in search of help, Sir Tomura stopped you. “I can assist you,” he said, and it took every ounce of your willpower not to blush or to flinch. “It cannot be that difficult.”

That was ten minutes ago. Sir Tomura swears under his breath, not for the first time since he set out to help. “I’ve been tortured in devices less complicated than this.”

Your stomach, already well-constrained inside the corset, still manages to lurch. “You’ve been tortured?”

“Don’t change the subject,” Sir Tomura snaps, but there’s no edge to it. There rarely is these days — at least when he talks to you. “I have the laces. Now what?”

“Um —” You’ve done this multiple times, for nearly every female knight or lady you’ve served. Why has the process exited your mind completely? “Start at the top. Thread it from the inside out, and make sure they’re even on both sides.”

Sir Tomura grumbles something, likely a curse in a language you don’t know, and you feel his hands brush against your back. “And then?”

“Thread each side down to the loop diagonal from it, and continue until you reach the center.” You don’t remember how you learned to lace a corset. Likely from watching someone do it, not from whoever you were attempting to dress giving you instructions. “My Lord, you don’t have to assist me.”

“You assist me with my clothing.”

“I’m your servant,” you remind him. Sometimes Sir Tomura is absurdly obtuse, and half the time you’re convinced he’s doing purposely. “It’s my job to assist you.”

“Yes. And unlike you with this ridiculous contraption, it is entirely possible for me to dress myself.” Sir Tomura pulls at the laces. “The nobles of the High Kingdom should be embarrassed that they require servants to tie their shoes.”

You’ve never tied Sir Tomura’s shoes for him. “Would you prefer that I stopped helping you dress?”

“No,” Sir Tomura says at once. When you glance over your shoulder at him, you find him scowling, intent on the laces. “I’m stating that unlike me, you actually require assistance. What purpose is there to this garment?”

You know exactly what purpose it serves, and you’re certain that Sir Tomura does, too. For some reason, you’re shy of saying it out loud. “It came with the dress,” you say instead, “and Hakamada insisted I wear a dress rather than my uniform.”

Sir Tomura makes a disgusted sound. “I told him to provide you with a dress if you wanted one, not to force you into it.”

It’s a good thing you’re facing away from Sir Tomura — your jaw drops, and your hand comes up far too slowly to conceal it. “This was you?”

“You seemed uncomfortable at the last feast you attended. It occurred to me that your attire might have played a role. Or perhaps I wished to assign your disquiet to your clothing, rather than your companion.” Sir Tomura tugs at the laces. “I’ve reached the center. Now what?”

You direct him through the creation of the pull loops, then the rest of the lacing process, struggling to wrap your mind around the situation. You’re not wearing this dress, the finest thing you’ve ever worn even briefly, due to some vindictive whim of Hakamada’s — it was Sir Tomura’s idea, Sir Tomura’s request. His reasoning makes sense, but you can’t help turning it over, seeking some place where it rings hollow. Does he truly not care whether you attend the feast in your uniform or a dress? Or is the dress you’re wearing something he wanted to see on you?

Sir Tomura touches your shoulder, and you nearly jump out of your skin. “It’s finished.”

“Um, not quite.” You resist the urge to bury your face in your hands. “It has to be tightened, and I can’t pull it tight from this angle. Take the pull loops — one in each hand — and tighten it.”

“How far?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “I’ve never worn one before. Tight enough that it doesn’t fall down.”

Sir Tomura snorts at that, then pulls at the laces. Nobles you’ve served before ordered you to tighten them in sharp yanks, constricting their waists as quickly as possible, but Sir Tomura pulls them slowly, almost gently. Although you know that tightening a corset too far can make it difficult to breathe, it’s not likely that you’d notice. It’s been hard to breathe ever since Sir Tomura took hold of your laces.

He doesn’t wait for your word to stop. He steps back from you for a moment, then comes close again. “That’s far enough,” he decides, and ties the laces into what you imagine is the roughest knot in the history of corsets. “What do you think?”

“I can’t see it,” you say. Sir Tomura has a mirror in his rooms — you made sure — but he keeps it covered. “I’m certain my Lord did well.”

“Face me, and I’ll tell you.”

You turn, and Sir Tomura looks you over. His expression is impossible for you to read. You wonder just how much of a hand he had in this dress — the style, the color? Was it truly done out of consideration for you, or did he want to see it himself? It’s consideration, you decide. Sir Tomura has shown himself to be capable of it, even if it presents itself in strange ways, and this certainly falls into the category. At this feast, you’ll stand out considerably less than before.

“It suits you,” Sir Tomura says finally, and you bow your head. It’s only because your head is bowed that you see his hand before it lands on your recently narrowed waist, exploring the structure of the corset. “This device is still absurd. How long do you think you’ll be able to tolerate it?”

It’s not as tight as it could be. Then again, you haven’t tried sitting down in it yet, and you’re fairly sure you know why Sir Tomura is asking. “Are you looking for an excuse to leave the feast early, my Lord?“

“Yes,” Sir Tomura says bluntly, and you hide a smile. “Should you grow faint at any point, let me know. I got you into this mess, after all.”

His hand remains on your waist for a moment longer, then slides away. “I should be the one who gets you out of it.”

[queer-obsession]

You thought I was done with Shikamaru, huh? Hohohohohoho 🤭

[queer-obsession]

traveling internationally with food allergies is not fun 😭 i basically can't eat any of the meals on a fifteen hour+ flight and i can only pack certain foods to eat that have to get through customs of two different countries and they have to be non-perishable because i won't be able to heat anything up or cook anything. i also have to worry about contamination on pillows and blankets. i have to do it though because i'm not about to go into anaphylactic 30,000 feet in the air if i can avoid it

these are moment when i realize why allergies are considered a disability by the ADA.

[queer-obsession]