#anyway this scene was top shelf in every way i will never be over it

[wildwren]

What will they do when you tell them that SAURON LIVES 

because of you?

[chubsonthemoon]

Binderary week 3!!! These are three wonderful fics by dear friend @aboxthecolourofheartache! Box's writing is so so lovely--she can articulate the big, sweeping things in the everyday and ordinary, as well as accurately portray that wild mix of humor and grief you feel in the aftermath of tragedy. Literally some of my favorite writing ever!

Some process and design chatter, under the cut <3

From top to bottom!:

I'm caught inside every open eye: This is THE fic that made me officially adopt Daniel and fully accept him into my heart! Desire's POV is SUCH a delight--I've never wanted to both laugh and cry so hard in just under 2k words. Green and red/gold irises on the title page as color coding for the two disaster siblings! And the scrapbook paper cover was from a fun paper pack that was all neon and disco-y, which I thought was fitting :3 Also really fond of the title page font, which is called Retrolight! It gave me such groovy vibes~

The Politeness of Princes: WHERE DO I BEGIN with this fic??? I read it before I read the comics, got my heart broken, then re-read it after I had finished the comics and got my heart broken all over again in a fun new way T_T This fic also has one of my favorite tags ever, which is "in which gluten free peach cobbler is a metaphor for vital personal relationships"--and lemme tell you that gluten free peach cobbler IS a metaphor for vital personal relationships (reader, I cried so hard). Anyway, all of this to say: peaches! :3

The last scene also takes place at a potluck/cookout during the summer, so I wanted to give the cover a picnic vibe. I layered two pieces of scrapbook paper--one with the wooden table pattern, and one with the picnic tablecloth pattern over that. I also left a little strip unglued (see below) on the picnic pattern to give it some more TextureTM and as a kind of "edge" of the table (yanno that little flappy bit that always tickles your thighs when you sit at a picnic table? That vibe!)

Then for some fun touches I printed the leaves on vellum (my original intent was to make the leaves transparent for a dappled sunlight kinda feel, which...kinda worked? It's hard to see in the photos but you can kinda see through to the wood layer baha), then I went to town with my watercolors to make the grease/coffee stains on the tablecloth and the shadows under the leaves. (Actually might have gone a little too much to town LOL it kinda looks like I actually got grease on it XD). And then for the finishing touches, I added a layer of glossy paper mod podge to the tablecloth (which is acid-free and archival hell yeah!) to really give it that shiny vinyl/polyester feel and look (although it's kinda hard to see in the photos ajslkfdsj).

Uncertain Results: AHHHH this fic!!!! An absolutely bangin' convo between Hob and Dream with so much said and so much more unsaid--Box's take on their relationship is so fresh and hits all of my buttons. It takes place on the shore of the Dreaming under the stars, hence the cover! The title page graphic is one part of a larger graphic that shows the progression of a star winking in and out of existence, frame by frame:

Which, uh. Well let's just say it reminded me of an Event that happens at the end of the Sandman, an event which is heavily alluded to in the fic T_T This fic, unsurprisingly, also broke my heart! I love it so much.

And that's all from me for today! Thank you SO much, Box friend, for letting me bind your work! It was such a pleasure, and I'm so happy I get to put your writing on my shelf now to read whenever I want ehe :3 (and here's to hoping these books are at least somewhat passable, archival-wise ^^")

<333!!!

[eufezco]

I have this idea of steve and y/n or reader just doing pottery together and they end up making out and leading into more. lmk what you think

i loved this but idk how this turned out because it was hard to find the right words sorry 🥹

"Like this?" Steve's hands were big and delicate, you never thought he would be so clumsy using them on clay. That is why you brought him to your studio, you thought he would be good at pottery, his big hands allowing him to create the most wonderful works, but every time Steve tried to shape the clay, it slipped between his fingers, making him have to start from scratch. He finally did some time of jar, a little leaned to one side but it was something. You jumped from your seat when you saw how he finally got to do something, praising his work and approaching him from behind.

"Let me help you finish it." You put your hands inside the bowl with water next to where he was working. You cupped his body from behind, your hands lying on top of his already wet ones as you helped him to refine his creation. Steve cleared his throat when he felt you pressing your body against his, he could feel your tits softly squeezing on his back and your lips so close to his ear. Your wet hands guided him through the curves of his ceramic work, slowly up and down. Steve's mind was racing, dirty thoughts taking over him, and as much as he tried to think about anything else, the way your hands moved up and down, so slow yet intense, and the way he could perfectly imagine how your boobs looked while squeezing against him was driving him crazy. "And... It is done!"

You placed his work on one of your shelves so it could dry. "Steve, can you put it on the top shelf for me?" He hummed, agreeing. After cleaning his hands, Steve got up from his seat and approached you, taking the jar from your hands and stretching to reach the highest shelf. Your body was trapped between his and the piece of furniture behind you, and your breathing became slower, inhaling Steve's scene as he rested his work where you told him. Once he was done, his body relaxed, Steve looking down at you. A smile appeared on his lips and you knew what he was about to do. Steve leaned and cupping one of your cheeks, he kissed you.

"Hmm, Steve..." You hummed against his lips, your hands grabbing a fistful of his hair as his kisses started traveling along your jaw. Steve's knee made his way in between your legs and sneaking under your skirt, he brushed your wet core with it, making you jolt. "Steve, we can't here." His hot body was trapping you between it and the shelf, your hands now on his chest, softly clutching his t-shirt while his lips worked their way down your neck. You bit your lower lip stopping yourself to moan at the friction of his knee between your legs and his lips sucking on your neck. "What? We're not doing anything." Steve undid the bow of your apron and took it off you, he after pulled on the hem of your shirt. He took his apron off too, and you took advantage of it to pull his t-shirt over his head. You locked the door anyways, you just needed to be quiet to don't get caught. Your hands quickly ran down his torso, feeling his toned chest under your fingertips. His chest hair tickled your palms as you finally got to his jeans. Your lips still connected until Steve looked down at your hands on his upper body, breaking the kiss and raising his eyebrows at your fingers working on the zipper of his pants. "Your hands are so skilled..." Steve kissed your neck again while you pulled down his underwear just enough to free his cock. "... and so soft..." He pushed your hair away from your shoulder as his lips moved to your collarbone. "They're—" Steve gasped when you wrapped your fingers around his dick. "—angelical." He finally said in a moan. Steve's knee pressed tighter against your pussy, a whine coming out of your lips. You smeared his precum all over the tip of his dick before you started pumping your hand up and down. Steve threw his head back, letting your skin go with a pop sound but his leg kept working between your thighs. He groaned, letting you pump your hand a few more times before he helped you to encircle your legs around his waist. Steve moved your panties aside so he could line himself up against your aching entrance. "You're so wet, fuck..." Steve groaned rubbing his hard dick up and down your slit, collecting your juices. "Stop teasing..." You whined and tried to buck your hips in a failed attempt to have him finally inside you.

Steve pushed his dick inside you, your nails sinking on his shoulders as he moaned when he bottomed you. He pulled out and pushed in again, your lips finding his to shut both of your moans.

"F-fuck, Steve..." Steve grabbed one of the shelves behind you to steady himself, his knuckles soon turned white. He thrusted harshly into you, the wooden shelves scratching your back as you held onto Steve's shoulders. The furniture cracking and the ceramics on it dangerously clinking. "Come on, y/n. Cum for me, yeah? Can you do that?" Steve said and let out a groan. His voice was shaky and his cock was already twitching inside you as your walls clenched around him. You nodded at his question, your arms wrapped around his torso as your legs shook when your orgasm hit you, a loud moan escaped your lips as Steve thrusted into you one last time before he came inside you.

You stayed there, Steve still inside you and you hugging his body. Your legs around his waist and your arms around his upper body as he moved you both away from the shelf with your ceramics intact behind you. He caressed your sore back, the marks from the shelves remaining on your skin.

[putsch]

nielan valentine exchange fics

I don’t know what happened to this exchange, but I decided why not write for it anyway? So I wrote fics for the other 9 people who signed up! They are on AO3 now for everyone!

All of the fics are under 1k, and are all scenes based on everyone’s prompts and requests!

( See the full series here )

And in no particular order, all of the fics are below:

1. Ideal Boyfriend; G | 699w | Modern AU

"Then what kind of guy do you think our poor Lan Zhan should have?"

(Mingjue and Xichen are playing matchmaker, and then realize something they probably should've ages ago.)

2. Lean to turn in the velodrome; G | 1041w | Modern AU

Wei Wuxian waves and says something, but Xichen misses it entirely as he sees Mingjue turn around. Suddenly the memory he'd been trying to tug off the top shelf of his mind falls right on top of him.

(Lan Xichen had a dear childhood friend he hasn't seen since he moved away - surely he won't run into him now of all times though, right?)

3. Soup for the cold and a hand to hold; G | 711w | Modern AU

"A-Jue, I'm fine. I'll just--" and then he sniffs hard, the snot still thick in his nose, "--take a shower and have some medicine, I'll be fine to go to work."

(Lan Xichen will you take your sick day, you are SICK)

4. The 201st Tale; T | 1002w | 1001 Arabian Nights AU

"It seems the night is over, my king. I am afraid I will have to continue this story tomorrow."

"By god - why do you always do this to me?"

5. Heal your shrinking soul; E (for blowjobs) | 926w | General/Combat Medic AU

Stupid, stupid. How did he not realize that this was how Xichen felt, how he felt sooner? He had seen Xichen's smiles, his little, flirty ticks, but assumed he did that with everyone, that Xichen never saw him as more, as special.

(General Nie Mingjue and Head Combat Medic Lan Xichen learn something fun and sexy about each other.)

6. I’ll cover you in moonlight; G | 808w | Canon Compliant

"Nothing on our desks cannot wait until tomorrow afternoon, rather than tomorrow morning."

Nie Mingjue cannot rebuff Lan Xichen on most things, and this was certainly no exception.

(Nie Mingjue and Lan Xichen have a little date night after a mission)

7. We don’t have to wait alone; G | 596w | Canon Compliant

Nie Mingjue wakes to the sound of rain hitting the tiles of the roof, falling into the pond of the courtyard outside, deafening any other sound of birds or life in the nature around the Cloud Recesses.

(Rainy days always have silver linings.)

8. i want to witness the beauty of your repair; G | 963w | Canon Compliant

Today, he and Nie Mingjue are sect leaders. Dear friends, partners in every way that has mattered to him. Tomorrow, they will become sworn brothers alongside Jin Guangyao.

Tonight, however... tonight, Lan Xichen wants to do something selfish.

(tonight, Lan Xichen wants his partner to be his alone.)

9. Today begins and that’s all that we have; G | 735w | Canon Divergence

“Huaisang thinks I should put myself up for the role of Chief Cultivator."

"Mm, I think you would be perfect for it."

(If you've already fought a revolution to change your fate, what's pushing for a little bit more change?)

[mouseymousey]

Kung Fu Panda Headcanon

I always see jokes on the internet that Po is the Dragon Warrior by chance, because he's a fast food worker, etc. I think the real reason he's the Dragon Warrior is because of his body mass, and when watching the movie from this perspective, everything seems to click into place. For one, Po first ends up in front of Grand Master Oogway because he was late, something that happened solely because he was unable to climb the stairs on his way to the temple. His love of Kung Fu and the Furious Five meant he still made it to the top, full of the dedication and commitment. Both his body type hindering his speed and his dedication to Kung Fu make him get to the temple at the exact right time to become the Dragon Warrior, even if he doesn't realize it then. Instead of giving up (even though he has had the chance to twice cow from the lack of accessibility AND the doors shutting him out), he builds a rocket system. This rocket system would have probably worked to get over the wall on a smaller person. He goes a good ways up and over the wall and picks up a lot of speed. However, he's too heavy, landing him in the center of the arena instead of an empty area in the back he could have quietly snuck into the crowd from. Again, his body mass and dedication were the main contributors to him becoming the Dragon Warrior. Think of Master Oogway. He's fast for a turtle, but knowing that most people in this universe take on characteristics of their animal counterparts (like birds with flight), he probably wasn't taken seriously as a fighter when he was younger, but he became a Grand Master anyway. Despite being looked down upon and not believed in, he became a wonderful and well-respected Kung Fu fighter. He also, due to his shell, was probably very skilled in defensive combat. This would be the main fighting techniques his predecessor would teach to Po, and his age (being an elder turtle) is probably why he believed in fate so strongly. Grand Master Oogway is very old, and he can tell when fate is in action or not from his years of wisdom and experience. Master Shifu, an opposite force to Oogway, is hyper and fast. He specializes in offensive combat. He doesn't respect Po because he is quick to judge him, but he's also quick to get over his first thoughts when he sees Po's natural skill. In the cookie scene, Po reaches Monkey's cookies on the top shelf in a matter of seconds. Having a bird as a father, Po probably had to learn to climb at a very early age up and down the shelving that his father could easily fly up. Ladders would break under his weight (even ones made for hogs), so he has to climb onto the shelves themselves. He's also a panda, meaning he should be able to climb up bamboo shoots, so he can climb up 13,000 feet. Po is the perfect Dragon Warrior because he is a being of perfect balance. He has equal offensive and defensive fighting techniques and a powerful dedication to his home, his people, and his art form. When Shifu is ready to retreat, he refuses to. During the final battle, Tai Lung attacks him swiftly. He's the fastest, faster than any opponent the Valley of Peace has, however, Po begins wholeheartedly laughing at his attack, leaving him confused. Po doesn't need to be quicker than Tai Lung because the punches are absorbed into his body fat. His agility allows him to go on both the offensive and defensive in a way no other animal could have archived in its lifetime. It leaves Tai Lung feeling out of place, confused, and dizzy. He has never fought an opponent like this. It's only then that Po pulls out his finishing move, something anyone else would have glanced over, but Po is a fanboy. He pulls out the Wuxi Finger Hold. He's both warn out his opponent and trained hard enough to pull it off. Every other person who learns Kung Fu in this universe specializes in one natural attribute and spends there whole life perfecting it, but Po was able and willing to learn from everyone he met, including those that didn't have lives tied to Kung Fu like his father. He's the perfect Dragon Warrior because of his range. :D

[reaperkiller]

HEY i finished the wip. i could go more into the scene but then this would be... FAR too long and i wouldnt expect anyone to read any of it <3 anyway. here it is hi hello. the fateful meeting or whatever

An abandoned warehouse sits on the outskirts of the city, somehow still standing despite decades of weathering and decay. Light floods in through holes in the roof, dust dancing around in the golden rays. A breeze rushes through the building, causing it to creak and sway rather gently, as if trying to move with the air so as not to collapse. For an old building it sure is resillient. Apart from the various sheets of metal that were once part of the roof, and the general litter strewn across the ground, the building is empty, silent, peaceful. Well... Almost.

“Hey,” a voice begins, immediately followed by a slap loud enough to shatter the quiet into pieces. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Haven’t got all day.”

“Wh-.” Another sharp slap across the face. “The hell was that for?!” A second voice spits back, shock and confusion laced in every word. Not fear, though, not even a little bit, as if he was fully aware that this was what he was going to be waking up to.

A smirk washes over Jason’s face as he pulls up a chair that somehow stood the test of time - well, mostly. He sets it down, back to the victim, and drops himself into it, the frail wooden slats acting as some sort of barrier between the two. He leans forward, voice soft and low, almost welcoming “Mornin’, Ricky boy. Quite the deep sleeper, ain’t ya?”

This man’s air of arrogance is overwhelming.

“Fuck off.” Rick replies, shifting in his seat. “Didn’t have to slap me. Or tie me up, for that matter. Someone comes in here, what’re they gonna think, eh?”

“I’d’a used nicer rope. Shit’s amateur. I’d go top shelf.”

Rick smiles.

“Not for you though.”

Rick stops smiling.

“Why am I here, then?” Rhetorical question, of course.

“Best way to get answers outta you.”

 ___

Meanwhile, a van slowly comes to a stop outside the building, engine running, windows down. Lou steps out first, adjusting her sunglasses. “Well it’s, uh... You sure this is the right place?”

“Yeah it’s-.” Marcus begins, struggling to open the back doors of the van. One loud thud and a struggle to maintain balance later, he’s out on solid ground. “Yeah. Definitely the right one.” He looks scared, sounds unsure. This doesn’t reassure Lou even a little bit.

“If it’s wrong, I’m leaving you here and never talking to you again.” Morgan laughs, leaping out of her seat. She smiles and gives Marcus a supportive pat on the shoulder. “It’s definitely the right place. I can feel it in my gut.”

Marcus returns a smile, which fades almost instantly. His nerves are overwhelming him. This is the right place. It has to be. He’s running out of time, out of chances. He has to be right this time.

Silently, he walks towards the building, his pace getting faster and faster with every step, almost turning into a run. Morgan and Lou follow behind.

___

“Where is he?!” Jason snarls, gripping Rick by the neck, knuckles turning white.

“I ain’t tellin ya sh-.”

“WHERE is he?!” As his grip tightens, he lifts Rick, chair and all, off the ground. He’s dangling a few feet in the air at this point, gasping for breath.

“Just said, I ain’t tellin’ you shit, buddy.” He forces out a laugh of sorts, trying to put on a show of confidence, as if that’s going to save him somehow.

“Say that one more fuckin’ time and I’ll-.”

The warehouse doors swing open with a loud screech. Jason flicks his head around towards the noise, while Rick struggles to move, or see for that matter, as his vision starts to blur. 

There’s a standoff of sorts. Marcus, about 80% sure this wasn’t going to be the right place, stands perplexed, not expecting to actually see anyone here. He looks at the tall, mysterious figure, then at the body in the chair. His eyes dart back and forth a few times. Suddenly, a look of recognition washes over his face, mixed with shock, horror, disgust.

“... Rick?!”

[hauntedlibrarian2222]

Part 1.B

October 7th, ####

Today, I found some tiny, wacko looking creature scrambling around on the floor. Imagine a beetle, but make it a mammal— and give it fluff, and make it’s legs longer. No ears, just antennae, fluff, legs, and body. It moved like a bug, too, mashing it’s little.. itty bitty clawed feet into the browned carpeting. Weird little bugger.

I just let it be at first, when I first saw it scampering around the floor. I figured it probably got in.. through a window, maybe, and that it’d find it’s way back out. Not really a big deal, just some funky little creature that, hopefully, won’t cause a ruckus. Not like there was anyone in the library who would be weirded out by something like that, anyways, so I thought it was fine.

And I was wrong! As I tend to be. Because I swear, this building hates me.

Maybe fifteen minutes later, I’m sitting in my chair reading my own book— when I hear a big, hearty smack come from the middle of the library— by the stairs. It sounded like something fell, and I kinda got worried one of the kids who swung by earlier never actually left, and I just.. imagined then leaving. That isn’t uncommon, for me; and they just fell. I mean, it sounded too.. hollow to be a person, but still, you never know. Maybe kids are hollow nowadays. So, I put the book down, and I go look.

A regular, Collin, was already peeking at the scene by the time I got over— visibly unnerved. Collin comes in and reads for hours at a time, and they’re pretty nice— they don’t disturb me unless it’s important. They serve as a pretty reliable “I wasn’t the only one who saw that just then, right?” person, so I’m fine with them being here. They never comment on the weird stuff unless it’s important, and they’ve stuck up for me a few times when needed. I’d consider them a friend, but honestly— they probably just see me as the librarian, so I hesitate to call them one.

Collin, keep in mind they’re just as used to the weird stuff in the library as I am, soon picks up this half-ate book with a grossed out expression. Oh, and by ‘half-ate’— I mean it looked like someone had torn out over half the pages, and pressed the edge of the book against a orbital sander.

It was an upsetting sight, because this book, a book I have to keep and make sure is okay, is most certainly not okay. Collin just puts it on a desk with a soft huff, before looking around again— and I join him. But, as we’re looking, we hear that thump again— this time coming from the table. So, we turn, and that creature I mentioned earlier has the book in it’s mouth, and is just.. staring us down.

“Oh, uhm.”

Stammering, I began to shuffle over— only for the creature to shuffle back, which caused me to stop. I don’t want it to just run off with my book, so— gotta treat it carefully.

“.. Can.. I- have that book back, please?”

It doesn’t really reply to me, which was expected, as it began gnawing on the book, again.

Collin, meanwhile, had been grabbing one of the empty cardboard boxes we have propped up by some shelves— which are there from having put away delivered books— and picks it up. So, while me and the creature have a delightful bonding moment of pure silence, they soon just.. drops the box on them. Instantly we just hear a shrill hiss— followed by a ton of rampant clattering against the box. I watch Collin dart forward to carefully hold it down, and I just watch dumbly. After a few seconds of this chattering, they’d soon pipe up— voice calm, accented, as it always was.

“.. Rampent thing, ey?” They chime out, slowly putting their own book— which was a hefty, thick book of.. stories, I think, onto the box to keep it from moving in favour of their hands. That book didn’t belong to the library, it was one they brought over themself— and it was massive. They brought the same book each and every time.

“Y.. yeah, no, very— eheh.” Uttering a reply, I soon join them and place another hefty book on top of theirs from a nearby shelf. We then just sit there and listen to the thing rattle about for a few minutes. Until it didn’t anymore. After maybe five minutes of us just having been listening to this thing, I don’t know; the noises just.. very abruptly stopped. Me and Collin shared a ‘oh no?’ look.

I stepped forward and shoved the box a bit with my foot, and there was only a weird coo sound from inside— kinda like a purred snore. So, I shove it a bit more, and just the same response.

“So what’d’we do?” Collin guns out, his nice accent layered on thick as he rests his arm against the table we had the torn book on previously. “Y’think it’s ‘sleep?”

“.. Uh, it— might be, I don’t.. really know-“ Mumbling out the reply, I stare at the box— before kneeling down. Peeking in through one of the holding holes in the box, squinting.

“Could- uh, could you hand me a light, Col?”

With no verbal replies, and only the sound of shuffling footsteps— Collin returns a few minutes later, and they soon hand me this bulky, yellow flashlight. I’ll be honest, I have no idea where they got this from. Probably some ancient box in the back. They shake it a few times before handing it off to me, and I click on the light the moment I’ve got it; it works. I cup my hand over its beam to dim it a bit before half-pressing it against the hole, and using the free space to peer in. Inside, I can see the creature curled up in a ball inside a depression it had made in the book cover, giving more purred snores. Kinda like a really big bird in a.. nest carved into a book. Or a button? Kinda looked like a button. Could just reach in and press my hand against it, probably get a ‘honk shnoo’ in response.

After a minute of zoned out thinking, I pulled back the light, and click it off.

“It’s— asleep, yeah..”

“Well, what’d’ya wanna do wit’ it?”

“I don’t- really know..? Probably- release it outside, but I don’t know how it got in either-“

Collin sighs and shakes their head, before handing me a thin slip of cardboard— which, again, no clue where they’re getting this stuff from— and speaks again.

“A’ight, welll.. Slip this under it, and try ‘n’ bring the box outside. Y’can jus’.. prop it up and leave it be, hopefully it’ll get’th’message.”

Nodding along to their words as I slowly get a grip on the piece of cardboard, I soon utter a light ‘.. Alright..’ Soon shuffling back towards the box, kneeling down. Bracing my hand against the top-side (is that a thing?) of the box, I soon begin to wedge the piece under it. The creature gives another coo, but nothing else, and I get the slip of cardboard under it successfully. Somehow.

Cautiously, I wrap my hands around the bottom of the box and lift it up— trying my damn best to not disturb the little guy; before beginning to waddle my way to the front door. Collin trails behind me, and soon holds open the front door for me— letting a whole rush of chill, autumn air flood in. Stepping out as I quietly thank them, some leaves crunching under my foot, I soon plop down the box off to the side of the building. I placed it on the edge of the curb, with about a quarter of the box hanging off the side so the thing could slip out once it was awake. With that, I shuffle inside quickly, and Collin lets the door fall behind me. It’s cold outside, man.

Collin gives me a brief nod, and begins to walk back off to their reading spot before I can properly thank them— before pausing.

“.. My book..”

They turn sharply, and step back outside— soon snatching the books off the top of the box. Scampering back inside, they’d let the door shut again behind them— beelining for a counter. They would place the extra book, the one I had placed on the box, on the counter; and tucked their own under his arm. They then leave for their spot as I give an uttered “Thank you-“ to them, to which he just nods again. They never were really talkative, not that I minded.

And the day went on pretty normally after that— as least so far. I’m kinda worried the thing’ll sneak in tonight and cause havoc, which I don’t need when I’m trying to sleep. I don’t mind if it comes in ‘cause it’s cold, but if it decides it wants to eat more books? I’ll probably just cry, I dunno. Maybe throw the paper that’s been sitting in our printer for a few decades now at it and hope for the best.

Previous | Next

[spookyornot]

Untitled (Lost Kid at Home Despot)

CWs: missing child (child is fine)

Spooky Rating: 0/10

Scary Rating: 0/10

Summary: Dude's kid wandered off when they were at Home Depot and it scared him.

Currently the top comment story, this should be disqualified on the grounds of (a) neither spooky nor scary, (b) this happens to nearly every parent at some point why is this even here, much less the top comment. I was the low energy, good kid and I lost my parents at least twice and they found me both times have conned nearby responsible adults into giving me milk and cookies

Link: https://jezebel.com/scary-story-contest-halloween-1850886671#reply_1850893772

Comment text under the cut.

[I would just link the comments rather than copy/pasting the comment text but the permalink only does the article link and the point of this is partly so that people can avoid scrolling past comments that trigger them so here we are. I'm linking with the comment ID anyway, just for accountability's sake, though it definitely doesn't work in chrome. Go to the page at least once to give them the clicks.]

If anyone has a way to link to specific comments on a website running Kinja, let me know. Otherwise, we will continue as we have started.

User: The Ghost of James Madison's Rage Boner

10/02/23 7:50pm

This will probably not read as too scary, but it scared the absolute shit out of me at the time. My youngest kid as a toddler/youngster could not be contained. He was absolutely fearless and had no sense of self preservation. He was prone to just bolting off without warning when something caught his eye, and he was fast. If you ever see parents with their kids on a toddler leash, those are likely kids like mine. We never put him on a leash, but we probably should have. At the time this happened, he was around four. One thing he loved doing was coming to Home Depot with me to look at all the stuff they had on display, and to get a hot dog at the food truck that was always parked outside. It was a typical busy Saturday afternoon – people everywhere, cars coming and going constantly. I normally held onto his hand for obvious reasons, but at one point I had to let go while I’m looking at something on the shelf. Then I look down. He’s gone. Not five seconds had gone past. I look up and down the aisle – there’s no sign of him either. I go to the nearest cross aisle and look there. Nothing. I start to get worried, but surely he’s close by right? I walk around looking in the aisles on either side. Zip. He’s done this before, though, and I can usually find him quickly. But today he’s completely vanished. Maybe two or three minutes have elapsed by this point. Someone notices my agitation and asks what’s wrong. I tell them about my kid. “You need to ask for a Code Adam,” he says. Now I’m starting to panic. The possibility that he might have been abducted hasn’t really entered my mind until this moment, but it rushes in with a vengeance. This a big, busy store with a lot going on and a lot of dads with their kids. Someone carrying a crying child out of the door would draw little or no attention. I find a staffer and ask for a Code Adam. They immediately close down the store. I run around looking for my kid, but he’s still no where to be found. I try to calculate exactly how long it was between the last moment I saw him and when they called the Code Adam. I know it’s enough time for him to get taken. If he was, he would be long gone, but I don’t know what else to do except keep running around the store looking for him. By this point, it’s been at least five minutes since he disappeared. I start thinking of that scene in Minority Report when Tom Cruise’s kid is abducted. I’ve confirmed every stereotype of the careless father. My life is over. My kid will be dead and my wife will divorce me. Then a guy comes up and asks, “Hey, is your son wearing a green corduroy jacket? I think he’s in the kitchens.” He was wearing exactly that. I run clear across the store to the kitchen displays and find him around the back playing with the faucets. He was at the opposite end of the building from where I’d lost him and must have just decided to run over there. I scoop him up and tell the staff to clear the Code Adam. That afternoon took ten years off my life.

[wroteonedad]

Interstellar (2014) Is A Barry 63 Film

Barry 63: A man photographed with a pint of lager in his hand, the type of man you would see in your local racist pub with the England flag on one wall and the dartboard across from it.

I have never seen a Christopher Nolan film in my life, I think that is one of the most important first things I have to say on this matter. I know nothing about him or his real niche in film, but I think I'm starting to get it. I watched this film on a whim; I had spent my afternoon browsing videos on YouTube from different people discussing the House Oversight video that has just come out of former U.S Intelligence Official David Grusch vaguely confirming that aliens are real. Before he gets pressed into further questioning and he's all like oh lol I can't talk about that part publicly,,,, as if the guy didn't just tell the entire planet that the U.S are storing 'non human' items and living beings somewhere. Anyway. The point is through these videos, a lot of YouTuber's then began to comment on their fascination with space and the idea of other life on other planets, and this went onto another tangent where Interstellar had been vaguely referenced as a point of reference for interest in the galaxy and further out. I guess this is what originally drew me to wanting to watch the film.

Furthermore, there is a lot about Nolan in the press right now, especially with the recent release of Oppenheimer; a movie I literally could not go and see in the cinema because I would so have an autistic meltdown over *that* atomic bomb scene. I've seen the scene anyway since a wonderful person on TikTok decided to film just that one scene in the cinema and post it online. So I decided to do some delving into Interstellar. My boyfriend told me to the best way to consume the film was to not keep turning the volume up and down (something you need to do a lot) because I would get jumpscared by the sudden loud noises, usually of rockets and space explosions. It was easier to instead turn the subtitles on and really listen because if there's anything about Nolan, it's that he loves to mess around with the sound mixing to the point you have no idea what the characters are even saying just so Nolan can make the film more 'realistic', he doesn't need to. I know for a fact I'm not in space.

The film starts off in a post apocalyptic timeline; the crops are starting to run out, your teachers are encouraging you to run a farm in order to survive while also debunking any theories that working with NASA is a terrible idea while you run for your life wearing goggles and facemasks every time the dust storms begin to rage from afar. Life on Earth is doomed, there isn't much time left and scientists are scrambling to find a way to fix that. Cooper is an ex NASA pilot who spends the early plot tending to his farm and looking after his son Tom* who seems to be failing his classes and Murphy, his daughter who follows the same interest in space and figuring out theories and morse code. Murphy is convinced there is a ghost living in her room, a ghost that knocks particular books off the shelf and as a child she tries to discover what is being communicated to her. Cooper on the other hand is convinced that this is actually a gravitational anomaly.

*did I mention that young Tom is played by our favourite Timoji Chalamat, but I feel like people kind of forget that because this was pre Call Me By Your Name? Slay

One night Cooper and Murphy take off to discover where these anomaly's are coming from, discovering some coordinates that end up taking them to a top secret NASA facility; they are stopped and snatched by some robots. The facility is run by Doctor Brand and it took me a good 5 minutes to realise that it was the Michael Caine. So Doctor Brand reveals to them that he is currently searching for an exoplanet, that a wormhole has opened up by Saturn and that he is organising a group to fly into that wormhole and to discover a planet that humans can move to with the apocalypse riling up in a matter of years. Cooper takes off with Romilly, Doyle and Amelia (Brand's daughter).

On the day of the departure Murphy has a massive strop, begging her father not to go even after he convinces her that he will be back, but she gets even more upset when she learns that even he doesn't know when he will come back.

When the gang get to the other side, they discover three different planets that are orbiting a supermassive black hole (Gargantua). The gang take their craft to the surface of the first planet; it has calm shallow waters and Amelia discovers some debris fairly quickly. She decides to run towards the mountains to collect more data before Cooper realises that those are not mountains, they are tsunami sized waves. It's not a tsunami okay I am just using that for the size reference. Anyway, he makes everyone hurry back to the craft so they can get out of there alive, losing Doyle to the large waves. The craft also nearly gets flooded due to the size of the waves and being thrown all over the place, but it does dry out with little damage over a short period of time. They return back to the base in an hour, which actually turns out to be 23 years in human time due to the time dilation from Gargantua's gravity. Is this sounding simple enough? I am trying to use as little science words as possible even though this is a science fiction film because I always found science so interesting, but yet I was always so bad at it. Back to the plot of the film, during Coopers time on the first planet which is travelling around the supermassive black hole, Murphy begins to work with Doctor Brand in order to help him with the investigation. Iconic considering she wouldn't even speak to her own father when he left.

So the crew (minus Doyle rip girl) travel to the second planet. This one is theoretically the ice age and the gang wake up Dr Mann, a very well respected scientist who has been in a state of cryostasis for however many years. The future looks brighter with this one because it would seem that Mann had collected a lot more data which could suggest this planet is more than capable of being able to contain human life. We've always wanted to live in the ice age on a different galaxy haven't we? But as it turns out Mann was a big fat liar and he faked the data in the hopes that Brand would see it and would send somebody out to rescue him, which clearly didn't happen. At the same time (well not really because of time dilation but you know what I mean) Dr Brand is dying in the hospital and he requested for Murphy to speak to him. When she arrives to see him, Brand also admits he's a big fat stinking liar. He was not even close to the answers for the gravity equation thus meaning he has sent out Murphy's dad and Brand's own daughter on what is basically a suicide mission.

As it turns out after this, Mann becomes even more problematic. He sets up a booby trap in his base and blows up Romilly and then goes out of his way to attempt to kill Cooper. Something very iconic about watching a space dude smack his helmet against another space dudes helmet until suddenly Cooper is running out of air and he is left to die. Except he doesn't the absolute mad lad. I'm starting to think at this point that Cooper might just be one of those people who can never die no matter what obstacle you throw their way.

In the process of Mann trying to hijack the Endurance and make it about him, he manages to blow himself up because he decides to be a bloke and not read any of the instructions or safety steps. Cooper somehow manages to control the now heavily damaged spacecraft. But wait, there's more...

Time is running out swiftly, the rocket no longer has enough fuel for the two to finish the job and they are trying to rack up ways on how they are going to get what they need from the third and final planet. Cooper decides that he is going to execute a fuel burn to be able to reach a speed where the spacecraft would actually arrive to the planet. The problem? Cooper would need to sacrifice his own life in order to carry out the task. The spacecraft detaches and Cooper quite literally falls through a black hole. Being sucked into such a thing, you would die right? RIGHT? No.

Cooper ends up in a five dimensional tesseract where he comes back into contact with Murphy trying to figure out the Morse code or in other lives, trying to get him to convince himself not to go onto this trip into space where the whole operation is ran by a big fat stinking liar. Basically he manages to communicate with Murphy in Morse code in one life while basically being in the walls. Theoretically coming up with the idea that humans have the ability to communicate with people in the past through time-travelling techniques. Does that make sense? Probably not, I think even for me this is all starting to feel a little bit too technological with lots of big words. Cooper manages to communicate what Murphy is looking for so she is able to save the dystopian hell she is living in where humans are now on the verge of being wiped out.

These future beings then transport him close to Saturn where he wakes up at the ripe age of 124 years old. He is taken to see Murphy who is now elderly and in the hospital; she has managed to use the gravity equation to enable human's to safely live on a planet that isn't Earth. She feels satisfied and tells her father to seek out Amelia who is seen on another planet taking off her helmet for the first time, ending on a note where she has found another planet that is capable of human life.

I think it's really cool for a film to actually end on a nice positive note, I feel like any movie that isn't pushed for the child audience usually means that the film will end up being depressing with a horrible ending. It's also weird because I feel like Nolan makes movies that all have over dramatic depressing endings. Especially considering that this movie is marketed to blokes, absolutely nobody else. The people who think Elon Musk is the most amazing man to live are the same people to say this is the best film to ever exist. It is full of loud rocket noises for the Musk wet dream, but I do actually think this is a good movie. I very much enjoyed it and it was a nice introduction to Nolan,,, and no I am not going to watch Oppenheimer in the cinema because I think how loud the movie is will literally kill me off.

[wri0thesley]

Hey Nat, I'm kinda blaming you for my budding infatuation with Nanami and I was wondering if I may request Nanami and his s/o having their first kiss? It doesn't have to be long but I'm just feeling soft and with the way you write him it sounds like a treat once this reserved, professional man finally allows himself to give in

oh anon i am so... so very soft.... you cannot blame me for the nanami desire. he is simply irresistible. 

date night - nanami x reader (3k)

you’re nervous about your first date with nanami.

warnings: none. fluffy, soft. neutral reader, some mentions of food and alcohol.

You cannot help but be nervous about tonight.

Your friends have made fun of you, talking about your hot date – Gojo thumping you on the back, Shoko looking at you with her tired eyes but a smirk on her face. Neither of them really get it, you don’t think – to them, Nanami is their former junior who is just a little too serious for his own good. A gloomy, stoic presence who they trust implicitly due to the good head on his shoulders, but who they do not really see as ‘a potential romantic match’. They know that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the former salaryman for months, and they’ve already tried to warn you off him.

“He can be so boring,” Gojo had said, swinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let me set you up with someone instead!”

Your face had heated up at the idea that Gojo didn’t trust you to make your own romantic decisions, but he was already halfway through listing the name of every eligible bachelor he knew (and a few who he said ‘weren’t eligible, but they probably could be, for you!’). You’d been able to do nothing but listen politely as you’d walked with him to his classroom, occasionally gathering strange looks from the students that were milling around in the corridors.

“Think about it!” He’d cried to you as he’d stepped into his bare classroom (you hardly ever see him doing any actual classwork in there; mainly, you see him lying on top of desks and making fun of his students) and greeted the three first years waiting for him. “You don’t wanna be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life!”

You hope his students don’t hear him, as you decide to go for a walk outside to clear your head.

You and Nanami have been dancing around the idea of maybe possibly being something more than friends for weeks. You’ve felt it, in the brush of his hand against yours, the way that his eyes seem to soften and his tiredness seems to lift when you’re near him. You’ve felt it, as you’ve passed him a cup of coffee and he’s relished the warmth emanating from the cup. In the soft way he speaks to you.

You’ve felt it when he’s held your hand as the two of you have walked together, not saying anything. In his scarf wrapped around your neck, smelling like him.

What you haven’t done, is go on a date.

And perhaps this isn’t a date the way you’d once have dreamed about it. You’re going over to Nanami’s place; he’s going to cook a meal for you, the two of you are going to catch up after he’s been gone on a mission for almost a week -  the two of you are going to watch a foreign film he’s been able to get hold of, that you’ve been saving to watch with one another. You’re going to perhaps have a glass of wine together, or two--

You kind of do want to be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life.

It sounds so silly when you say it aloud! You haven’t even kissed him, just brushed fingers and held hands and saved each other’s lives whilst on exorcisms together. But whenever you close your eyes and imagine your future, Nanami is always there, right beside you.

You breathe in deeply. You have to ignore what Gojo and Shoko and everyone have been saying. They’ve known Nanami for longer than you – they were his upperclassmen, after all, and you suppose it’s traditional to make fun of and quash your younger classmates a little. You just need to think about what you want, and what Nanami himself may want. Plucking uselessly at your clothes, nerves fizzing in your stomach, you elect to ignore the anxiety gnawing at you until you’re at least outside of Nanami’s front door.

Then, you tell yourself, then, I’ll allow myself to panic a little bit. Seeing Nanami’s calm, handsome face always calms me down. The minute he answers the door, I’ll forget that I was even nervous, and everything will be just as it should.

It doesn’t stop you worrying, as you get dressed and try and fluff your hair and rearrange all of your accessories whilst you get ready. It’s just an evening at his house, you try and keep telling yourself. He’s not expecting me to show up like a runway model, he’d probably hate that anyway--

Still. Having a crush on somebody is never easy, and Nanami can be so utterly unreadable at times, that you get dressed and undressed twice more before you settle on something in between casual and formal; that looks like you’ve made an effort, without looking like you agonised for hours to figure out what the level of effort should be. You’re clutching a bottle of wine and standing outside of his door three minutes early, wondering if he’s the kind of man who gets annoyed if you are there too early.

The door swings open, and Nanami is there, leaning on the door frame. He’s breathtakingly handsome, in casual clothes – an expensive looking sweater in soft grey that gives just a peek at the column of his throat, cuffed jeans. You’ve never seen him look so . . . relaxed. And the fact that he’s looking at you, his lips barely tilting, his tired eyes just a little turned up at the corners.

“You look nice,” he tells you, and you thank God that you went with this outfit. You hold out the bottle of wine for him, and his smile breaks wider as he looks at it. “You didn’t need to bring me anything, you know. I’m happy to be the provider this evening.”

“It’s-- it’s polite!” You insist, and Nanami steps aside to allow you into his house. He’s very proper, and you’d wanted to impress him – you think the young lady who had served you in the specialist store you’d anxiously entered had sensed your worry, and had been very kind as she’d picked something for you she was certain you’d like.

“You made a good choice,” he tells you, as he invites you into his hallway and you gratefully pull off your shoes. “This one looks fine--”

“I didn’t really choose it,” you admit. “I let the experts do it.”

He laughs, the sound like an early spring morning. You don’t think anybody else hears him laugh like that, and the comfort that the two of you share makes you feel soft and warm.

“Even more admirable, then,” he says. “Most people we know would just barrel in guns blazing and insist they knew the right way to do things.”

You both share a secretive smile, your cheeks warming. You can feel tension draining out of you the longer you spend in Nanami’s company. Something about him just sets you at ease.

When you’d first met him, you’d been frightened of him. He seemed so gloomy and intense, so utterly focussed on his goals – when you had tried to speak to him, he had brushed you off with short one word answers and you’d caught him looking at you when your back was turned as if he was waiting for you to slip up.

But as time had worn on . . . as time had worn on, Nanami’s edges had softened. You’d realised that he was willing to talk, when the participant had proved themselves to be worth talking to. He’d told you once, shrugging, that most jujutsu sorcerers just tended to be . . . odd.

“Not you, though,” he’d said, and your heart had leapt in your chest. “Well. You’re not odd in any way that isn’t charming.”

He’s not usually the kind of man who heaps praise on other people; that little compliment, you had carried with you like a flame in your heart. The first time he had held your hand, he hadn’t said anything. The first time he had walked you home, and met you for coffee in a morning a half hour before you were due to be at the scene of an exorcism; Nanami Kento shows that he cares about you in a hundred different little ways that aren’t as simple as telling you it out and out. You admire that about him. You’re so used to putting your foot in your mouth.

“Come sit at the table,” he says, and you follow him obediently. His house is tastefully decorated, somewhere between modern and traditional; he has shelves of books everywhere, and that makes you smile. You’ve heard him say, sighing; “When I’m done with all this, I’ll finally have time to get around to reading them.” The shelf in the very corner of the dining area is the only one that looks well-thumbed; even from here, you can see that it’s where he keeps his recipe books.

“I hope you’ll like it,” you settle into the chair that he pulls out for you. He moves into the kitchen with purpose, grabbing serving dishes and utensils and juggling them with a precision that makes you admire him all the more. “I’m very glad you were on time. It’s the kind of dish that needs to be eaten at the exact right moment.”

He whips the cover off the main dish.

You knew that Nanami was a foodie. His instagram is full of pictures of various places and treats he’s eaten – with a particular focus on adorable baked goods, especially bread, that had made you feel warm inside when you’d noticed. Still, the spread that he’s laid out before you would not look out of place in the most high-class of restaurants; the kind that you’d never had the money to afford to eat in, and you’d have been afraid of showing yourself up at the tables of. You stare at it, mesmerised; the vegetables, so bright and colourful and steaming, lovingly presented – the glaze of the meats, the bowls full of side-dishes that you can’t quite recognise.

There’s an anxiety in his face when he looks at you.

“Sorry,” he says, quietly. “I think I probably over-estimated. And over-compensated, I suppose, for not taking you out to a restaurant--”

“No,” you say, quickly. “It looks delicious. I’m glad you invited me. It’s just . . . a lot.”

“Yes,” his eyes rove over the table. “There are only two of us.”

“It’ll make good left-overs,” you suggest, and he brightens.

“That should have been my line,” he tells you as he retrieves the wine you’d brought. You can see that there was already a bottle chilling in a bucket by the table, but Nanami’s face is affectionate as he pops the cork and pours some into the wine glass by your plate. “I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”

“Sorry for stealing your thunder,” you take a sip of the wine.

“Just as long as you don’t make a habit of it.”

The food really is delicious. You could easily have had seconds, or even thirds – on an ordinary day. A day in which your stomach isn’t churning from how alone the two of you are. There’s a buzz in the air that isn’t quite tension; more, it’s a promise that there’s more yet to come. You and Nanami laugh over dinner, the conversation surprisingly easy when the knot in your insides is so tight. He talks about his old job, and you talk about your own adventures before you’d ended up in Tokyo – he smiles, and laughs, more than you’ve ever seen him do.

He seems so much more at home here. That’s silly, considering it is his home – but somehow, there’d always been an image of Nanami in your head as serious and unforgiving with his tie very tight and his suits perfectly pressed even when he was relaxing in his own rooms.

That image is quickly wiped away, by the way he looks as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to take the dishes away.

“Let me help you wash up,” you try and say, but he waves you away.

“I’ll leave them for after you’ve gone,” he says. “I’m not going to ask a guest to do that. Or maybe I’ll even be bold; leave them for in the morning.” His smile makes you feel weak at the knees, this time – a spot of pink high on those sharp cheekbones. Is he blushing, or has his face gone rosy from the wine?

The two of you migrate into the living room. His television is large, but not ostentatiously so; a row of DVDs are neatly in the cabinet beneath it, mainly drama films, period films and some foreign prestige box sets. The movie the two of you have been talking about is one of those – a Danish film about an ageing detective who takes on one last case. You had originally planned to see it together, when it made it to Tokyo cinemas; but one thing had lead to another, and before you could both get the schedules to work out it had gone.

He places the DVD into the player and you can’t help but stare at him; how the soft material of the sweater clings to his broad shoulders, how the jeans seem to emphasise his ass – he’s always in slacks, you’ve never really had the chance to ogle it before, but seeing it in front of you now you suddenly understand why he keeps it covered. Who knows what riots it might incite, if it were just out and about for anyone to see?

“You’re staring,” Nanami turns his head slightly, catching your eye. Heat rushes to your face – but he keeps your eyes pinned with his own for a moment, before deliberately dragging them down the length of you, sat on the sofa. You feel hot and warm and bothered by the way he smiles afterwards, as if he is saying that he likes what he’s seeing too. “You don’t need to be sneaky about it. I don’t mind.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly going very dry. Nanami moves across the room, sitting on the sofa beside you. Heat seems to be radiating off of him; there’s a comfort in having him next to you.

“You look uncomfortable,” he says, five minutes into the movie. He leans back, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa behind you. “You can lean on me, you know. I don’t mind.”

He looks inviting. His head is tipped to one side as he meets your eyes; there’s no challenge in his. Just a softness. A quiet affection. Perhaps a touch of nervousness – of trepidation, that you’ll refuse the offer. You hesitantly sidle closer, leaning your head against his side. His scent wraps around you; freshly cleaned laundry, peppermint, coffee, spices, some of the wine from earlier--

You fair go dizzy at it all, but not as dizzy as you go when the arm on the back of the sofa wraps around you, his fingers resting on your shoulder. How are you supposed to concentrate on anything, with him so close to you? With everything about him making you feel like you’re on a roller-coaster climbing upwards and upwards, hurtling towards the inevitable?

You try – oh, you really do try – to keep your eyes on the film and the subtitles scrolling across the bottom of the television. But the aged detective is not half as interesting as Nanami; as the way he focusses on the screen, as his face bathed in the light. As his hand, as it gently starts to stroke over your shoulder, as if he’s barely aware he’s doing it. As his tongue, as it darts out to nervously lick at his lips.

“You’re staring at me,” he says, and you flinch that he’s noticed. His head turns, pinning you with the full force of his gaze. “Are you not enjoying it? We can turn it off?”

How do you answer that?

The real answer: ‘I’m not enjoying it because I can’t concentrate on anything other than you, and how badly I want to be brave enough to kiss you’, feels too bare and bold. You bite your lip.

Nanami leans in closer to you, so close that you can see the flush on his cheeks. The slightly ruffled hairs falling over his forehead. You can count his eyelashes, almost--

“I’m not sure what’s going on either,” he admits, softly. “And I can speak Danish.”

The arm not around your shoulders moves, resting on your waist. You can barely breathe. He’s so close to you; so gorgeous, in the light. All of that former salaryman indifference seems to have gone; he’s not cold any longer, but boiling hot. You’ve been watching it slowly strip away from him since you met him, you think, but tonight might be the first time he’s been Kento Nanami with no pretension.

Nervous about his food, even though he knows he’s an excellent cook. Blushing as he realises you’re checking him out. Almost trembling, as his hand slides up and he cups your cheek like you’re made of porcelain and he’s afraid he might drop and shatter you at any moment. You blink up at him, honey-slow, so dazed by his touch and his presence you can barely make sense of what’s happening.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Nanami says, as a warning. Even now, he seems to think you might pull away. But you cannot, you do not; you just press yourself closer into him, your voice coming out very soft and small as you whisper;

“Please do.”

He does not need to be asked twice. His lips are so soft against yours. The wine clings to them, intoxicating and heady. The hand on your cheek tips your face further up, so he can keep his mouth pressed against you so sweetly. You pull back, your heart pounding.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, almost immediately, nervous that you have changed your mind – but all you do is free your arms, so you can wrap them about his neck and pull him in closer, to devour him the way you’ve wanted to for months.

The movie plays on, forgotten.

[haksluvr]

Books Galore.

✎ headcanons: his s/o is a avid reader.

✎ ships: black! gender neutral reader x shoto todoroki. ~ keji akaashi.

✎ tws: none!

✎ a/n: inspired by me and my recent visit to barnes & nobles.

፥ Shoto Todoroki.

Supportive.

Like very supportive.

He himself never got into reading much, so watching how enthusiastic you about the hobby makes him happy.

He enjoys listening to you talk about your favorites and tries to add as much commentary to show you he’s actually listening. he likes listening to you talk period but moving on.

He actually wanted to get into it himself judging how happy you get when and while you read so he asked if he could barrow a book from you to which you happily obligated to.

He seemed pretty happy and finished your book pretty quickly 🧍🏽‍♀️.

“I really enjoyed that book y/n. Do you have anymore?”

You’ve sucked the boy in now. It’s too late.

That’s what books do to ya smh.

Y’all literally made like a little library section in your dorm so when he comes over, he picks out a book and “checks it out”.

you even have matching bean bags that are right next to each other so you both can sit close.

Don’t let this mf see your to-get-book-list tho.

He will, i repeat, he will buy every single one of them with endeavor’s card.

Now depending on how many you have is how much you’re going to get.

Technically speaking, it’s not totally bad but i mean it is at the same time??

Either way, if you need some more books, let him know.

፥ Keji Akaashi.

A avid reader himself. (i believe so anyway.)

Y’all literally have a little book club, just the two of y’all. cute

Book shopping + Cafe are very frequently dates you both go on.

You are more into black authors and bookstores (like me!) y’all try and find some to go shop out.

Matching bookmarks. Thats it. Thats the tweet.

Although you would most likely be the talker out the two, you both rant about favorite books, scenes, characters, etc whether you both are reading the same book or not.

Y’all would hold hands while reading. yes i’m jealous, moving on—

Would most likely like to watch movie/show recreations of your favs.

If y’all ever do marry and move in with each other, you would literally have a whole library room. Filled with shelves upon shelves of books, couches with box filled with blankets and pillows snd even a latter that moves side to side if you need to get certain books off of a top shelf.

you’re literally living the dream life </3.

✎ taglist: @vanteyves @angiebug101 @katsumiiii

[magniloquent-raven]

soulmate au part 3!!!!

(read part 1 and part 2 here)

it takes three weeks for anything to happen.

they see each other at school, exchange glances in class, brush past each other in the hallways, fingers grazing as their shoulders bump, incidental touches that wouldn’t draw attention but still leave billy tingling and giddy and embarrassed at himself but…

he’s still getting used to having a soulmate. a real, tangible person he can reach out and touch.

and maybe he’d get used to it faster if he could touch him more, but life keeps conspiring against them. they can’t seem to get a second alone. when it isn’t steve’s kids are crawling all over him 24/7 it’s neil breathing down billy’s neck because he ran out on one fucking class.

well, and then had to lie to neil about why, which was probably what put neil on high alert, but still.

three goddamn weeks.

and neither of them have been patient about it. steve keeps writing billy notes. in the middle of class scrawling things like you have nice eyes and i wanna spend time with you and billy can fucking feel how smug steve gets about making him blush. it’s all he can do not to make a scene in front of half their peers. sometimes he’s not sure if he’d punch steve for being an asshole or kiss him for being sweet.

or both. he can do both.

but mostly he wants time, and somewhere to just...be. with steve.

and he gets that, three weeks after their conversation in the parking lot. steve’s parents will be out of town, and his kids have some stupid game night planned. max keeps asking to go but pretending she isn’t, badly feigning disinterest, and best of all, neil and susan are planning a weekend trip to visit susan’s bedridden aunt a few hours away.

billy is determined to take full advantage of those thirty-six hours. neither of them will acknowledge it directly, but he knows max will tell neil he was home all weekend if she has to. he has no reason to be nervous about being caught, or anything else. it’ll be fine.

it’ll be fine.

he tells himself that over and over but it doesn’t stop him from checking every corner of the house in case neil’s hiding behind a door somewhere before he can even think about getting ready to leave.

he checks again after he’s showered and dressed.

thankfully max is already gone, so she’s not there to see him pacing around like a neurotic rat in a maze.

it almost worse that he isn’t just anxious, he’s excited. and it’s making him twitchy.

there’s no plan. they aren’t going on a date or anything. he’s just...going to steve’s house. steve’s empty house. he’s going to be alone with his soulmate. the list of reasons why that scares him is endless.

and he’s not sure if he’s more terrified of the possibility that steve won’t ask about the makeup thing or the possibility that he will.

knocking on the harringtons’ front door is. an experience. it shouldn’t be. it’s just a fucking door. but billy’s palms are sweating and suddenly he has no idea what he’s even going to say, and he keeps glancing over his shoulder even though he doesn’t really know what he’s looking for, and it feels like he’s been standing on the porch for a fucking eternity but—

his worries don’t exactly melt away when steve opens the door but there is a warm flutter in his chest that’s...new. and distracting.

and steve smiles at him all sunshine and chocolate, and the second the door closes behind them he grabs billy’s hand, wide-eyed, questioning, watching billy’s reaction.

his palm is just as sweaty as billy’s and it’s gross, but also kind of comforting.

“hello to you too,” billy snickers, and steve visibly relaxes, lacing their fingers together properly.

“hi,” he breathes quietly, his gaze soft, but intense, focused. “waiting sucked, okay. i’ve been wanting to do that forever.” he shakes their joined hands for emphasis.

“...that all you were waiting to do?”

steve’s grin turns sly, and his gaze drops a little. “no.”

billy wants to kiss him. he wants to be kissed. he wants steve’s mouth on him, somewhere, anywhere, right now. it’s a nice mouth. he’s spent a lot of time looking at it, and thinking about it, about the way the steam from the showers turned his lips so, so red, wet and slick and both too close and too far away, wondering what he’d taste like—

but steve turns away, taking all the air in billy’s lungs with him. it’s so jarring a shift that billy actually sways a little before he gets ahold of himself and lets steve tug him by hand and lead him upstairs.

the wallpaper in steve’s room has to be some kind of hate crime, but billy doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because there’s a beige bag sitting conspicuously on top of steve’s neatly made bed. the clear plastic top is zipped shut, dusty with age and spilled powders, but billy can still make out tubes of lipstick and eyeliner pencils through the haze.

he stops in the doorway and stares at it, thoughts at a stand-still.

steve’s still clutching his hand, tighter now, and no longer pulling him along. “i—uh. the bag was my mom’s, i think. found it crumpled up under the sink, so, like. she probably doesn’t even remember it exists. and the stuff in it is...new.”

“...new,” billy echoes faintly.

“yeah. yeah, i—i bought it. had no idea what i was looking for though, so i hope i did alright.”

billy blinks at him.

“was—was that okay? i know maybe isn’t exactly a yes, but i kinda hoped it could be, y’know? it’s—it’s totally cool if it isn’t. if you’re—if you’re not up for it. or…” he trails off awkwardly and grimaces.

billy takes a breath. “i’m up for it,” he assures steve with more confidence than he feels.

and steve absolutely beams at him. “yeah?”

“yeah.”

turns out steve not knowing what he was looking for meant he bought...everything.

as billy pokes through the mess he tries not to feel too apprehensive. or at least tries not to let it show. too much. he chews his thumbnail, picking up an eyeliner pencil with the other hand. it’s good shit, all the products are, with fancy names for colours and designer labels. it’s all leagues better than the drugstore clearance shelf crap he lifted as a kid. which doesn’t make this any less nerve-wracking.

“it’s been a while since i did this, so. don’t expect it to be, fucking, art or anything.”

steve shuffles closer from his spot at the foot of the bed and touches billy’s knee. “the eyeliner earlier this year…?” he gestures vaguely at his own face, eyebrows raised.

“friend of mine did that,” billy mutters.

and then his whole goddamn life came crashing down around him because of it.

his anxiety spikes, and he drops the pencil back into the pile, shoving the bag away. “i can’t fucking do this,” he snaps, and he’s halfway standing already when steve reaches for him, alarmed.

“billy, wait—” the hand on his elbow is soft, gentle, but he still flinches away. steve withdraws, fingers curled, lips parted, shock and hurt at war on his face. “i’m sorry. i—shit, i’m sorry—”

“don’t.” billy shakes his head, pulling away further. his lungs hurt. there isn’t enough air in this room. “just—forget it. this was a mistake.”

he’s through the door and heading down the stairs before he can think about it, before steve can respond. he wouldn’t have heard him anyways, not over the echoes of his father’s voice that follow him no matter how fast he flees.

but he stops just short of leaving. stands on the ugly little mat by the front door and stares down at it, his forehead inches away from resting against the wooden doorjamb.

he doesn’t want to leave.

he doesn’t want to go anywhere but back upstairs.

and...he kind of hates it. he has no reason to want that. he barely fucking knows steve, and he certainly doesn’t owe him anything. not a look at his authentic self or even a fucking apology. nothing.

so why does he want to give him all of that and more.

why.

it’s fucking terrifying and ridiculous and confusing and…

“billy?” steve calls out tentatively, far enough away that billy doesn’t startle. he’s making his way down the stairs.

if he’s gonna run, it’s now or never.

now…

or…

he turns around, and leans back, his shoulder thudding heavily as he hits the wall. his eyes itch, and rubbing them doesn’t help.

“billy…” steve’s right in front of him now, hovering just shy of being close, worry etched into every line of his face. “i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have pushed, i’m sorry—”

“not your fault,” billy mumbles, muffled against his palm. “stop apologizing, harrington.”

steve sucks his bottom lip between his teeth. “i...uh.”

“you were gonna do it again weren’t you.”

“...no.”

billy snorts quietly, head falling against the cold wallpaper at his back. “fuck,” he exhales, hand dropping to his shoulder. “look, this is...threatening to be the best fucking thing that ever happened to me, and good things don’t just—it never lasts. it always blows up in my face, and you should know that before you get caught up in it too.”

there’s an awful, drawn-out pause while steve purses his lips and tilts his head and looks billy up and down, his gaze gentle despite the scrutiny.

“i want to touch you,” steve says quietly. he waits for billy’s hesitant nod before he wraps his arms around and tucks his face into the crook of billy’s neck. “i’ve been waiting for you my whole life, hargrove, you’re not scaring me off that easily.”

and...billy always wanted to believe in the romantic notions people wrote about in songs. soulmates being destined for each other. epic, unconditional love. he never had any reason to believe it was real, but he clung to it anyway. despite the part of him that was wary, afraid of putting too much stock in something that might break his heart later on.

so for steve to just outright say it like that…so matter of fact. the reality of the situation smacks him in the face a little.

he puts his hands on steve’s waist, slipping under his shirt to rest against soft bare skin. touching him feels...right. when he lets himself feel, lets himself be here, in the moment. the sweet scent of steve’s hair, the warmth of his breath, the soothing pressure of his fingertips smoothing the wrinkled fabric of billy’s shirt. it all adds up to a feelings that billy can only describe as home.

not home like the place, but home like the warmth of sunlight and sand between his toes, ocean spray on his lips. a feeling he’s always had to chase to capture, but somehow it’s...here. quiet and still, and nothing like he’s used to, but it’s here.

and his touch seems to put steve at ease as well, he practically melts into billy’s embrace, which does strange and addictive things to billy’s heart.

but he can’t just shut his fucking mouth and enjoy the moment.

“bet i could, though. scare you off. i might, some day.”

“billy,” steve sighs, and pulls back enough to look him in the eye. “trust me when i say, you’ll never even make the top ten scariest things i’ve seen.”

and he wants to scoff, or feel insulted, or push the issue, start a fight, but. there’s a hollow look in steve’s eye. it’s not the face of some sheltered rich boy who thinks he’s a big man, no, there’s truth there. billy believes him.

stopping the tide of questions is almost physically painful, but he knows there’s no going down that road today. he’s hiding enough of his own skeletons to be sure they aren’t ready for that yet.

he might just be ready for something else though.

“i wanna try again.”

steve blinks at him, confused for a beat, two, and. “oh!” his lips part around the exclamation, distracting billy for a moment. “the—the makeup? you don’t— you don’t have to.”

“i want to.” he hesitates, and then presses a brief kiss to the tip of steve’s nose, startling a smile out of him. billy grins back. “i want to.”

[bigasswritingmagnet]

Seek a Little Strange and Unusual

Fandom: Psychonauts Pairing: None Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Chloe Barge Summary: One day at the grocery store, Loboto overhears two parents discussing their...problem child. It's a very familiar sounding conversation. He may not understand why, but he won't let history repeat itself. Chloe isn't particularly fond of her human caretakers. The dentist who smuggled her out of the store is strange...but so is she. And he, at least, understands the importance of space helmets on alien planets.

[don’t make tumblr funnyposts about headcanons guys because you WILL become attached to them]

Cucumbers, lighter fluid, toothpaste, apple sauce, quick rise yeast, mineral oil...

Almost everything! All that was left was condiments. Except...had he written ketchup, or catsup? Did it matter? Of course it mattered, they were totally different things! Weren't they? Well, they had different names.

Lobot stared between the bottle of catsup and the scribbled list, trying to read his own handwriting.

"No, no! Put it down--Chloe put that down right now." 

Ooooh, drama! He loved drama. Loboto poked his head around the corner of the aisle in time to see a small child standing on their tiptoes, arms outstretched to the cereal boxes on the upper shelf. A brightly colored box of sugar pretending to be a nutritious breakfast was wrapped in a purple glow and descending, slowly. 

A woman materialized next to the girl. Her face was tight with anger and she snatched the box out of the air. Shoving it back on the shelf she hissed "What did I tell you? How many times do I have to say it, Chloe! Don't do that! Especially not in public! And I told you take that stupid helmet off when we're in the store!"

The child's response was unintelligible, muffled by the space helmet they were indeed wearing. He wondered what the big deal was. It wasn't the 1940's; nobody cared if you wore a hat in public anymore. Just look at him! He was wearing his showercap and no one had said a word! They just left the aisle as soon as they saw him.

“Take it off, now!” 

A man appeared and grabbed the woman's arm.

"Keep your voice down, people are going to come see what the fuss is."

The woman rounded on him, her expression one of frantic desperation. 

"I can't do this anymore."

I just don’t care anymore.

"I can't deal with this, the helmet and the moving things around--!"

He’s a monster!

"I know, I know--"

Soon we’ll be free of this devil child.

"I don’t know how much longer I can put up with this! If I have to deal with one more dismantled radio, one more time trying to get her to take it off for company, one more bent spoon--"

Every! Spoon! Bent!

"I've been asking around, and Johnson knows someone who can do a procedure that’ll fix her--"

They all agree on the diagnosis and what must be done.

He felt strange. Cold and hot and angry and...sad. The child didn't seem to notice the conversation. She was trying to float the cereal box back down again. She probably didn't understand what it all meant. She was young. Very young.

Younger than he had been.

He hadn't understood either, until it was too late.

The humans were arguing again. They were always arguing these days. Arguing about such petty problems, when they could be focusing on the whole galaxy around them. She ignored them. It wasn't like they listened to her anyway. How many times had she explained to the woman why she needed to wear the helmet whenever she left the hermetic seal of her room? It never mattered. 

The box of Chocolate Frosted Sugar Bombs landed gently in her hands. Excellent. She would slide it into the cart under the frozen peas. By the time they got to the cash register, the woman would be bound by social convention to make the purchase, or risk making a scene in front of the cashier.

Chloe still hadn't figured out what making a scene meant. The term was definitely in regards to public behavior, but was applied to anything from yelling in public to silent refusal to remove her helmet. Human rules were so strange and arbitrary.

The boxes in front of her rustled. Chloe tilted her head to one side. Odd. Sometimes things around her moved on their own, but usually she got that strange tingle in the back of her head when they did. She wasn't feeling it now.

The boxes of cereal parted, excess tumbling off the ends of the shelves. Two small lights gleamed in the newly made gap. One red, one green.

A metal claw shot out, grabbed Chloe by the shirt, and hauled her through.

She had half been expecting to be pulled into another dimension, but instead she was just in the next aisle. There was no time to feel disappointed before she was dumped unceremoniously in a grocery cart. Someone loomed over her, but Chloe only got the impression of blue skin and flowers before the stranger scooped up half a shelf's worth of bags of macaroni and dumped them on top of her.

It didn't hurt. She could breathe fine with her helmet protecting her face--see, she wanted to say, I told you I needed it--but she couldn't move very much. The cart rattled and bumped, one wheel squeaking obnoxiously. They paused briefly, and Chloe considered shouting for help, but didn't. She wanted to see where this was going.

So she stayed quiet and still, holding the box of cereal to her chest as a cheerful voice cried "No need to do your beeping scans! I know what I bought! Keep the change!"

Then they were off again. The sounds around her changed as they left the store and rattle bumped their way through the parking lot. She heard a trunk open up, and decided now was a good time to figure out what was going on. She had no interest in riding with the groceries.

Chloe made the purple glow around her hands and pushed until the groceries around her lifted enough for her to move. She popped out from beneath the macaroni like a beach ball being released underwater.

The stranger was. Strange. Very tall. The lights Chloe had seen were his eyes--or rather, small tubes where his eyes should be. They twitched and turned independently of each other. He was smiling at her, and his smile seemed to stretch much, much further than most human smiles.

He was wearing a labcoat and a shower cap.

"Hello!" he said. "I'm going to kidnap you and raise you as my own so your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!" He tapped his chin, brow furrowing. One of his arms was made of metal, and ended in three claws. "Although I already did that first part, so...I have kidnapped you and am going to raise you as my own so that your parents can't stick an icepick in your brain to take away your psychic powers!"

Chloe considered this with some alarm. She didn't know what an icepick was, but she was sure she didn't want anything stuck in her brain. Psychic powers? Ah. That would explain the purple glow. Her caretakers had been very frustrated by it. But could she believe that they would stick things in her brain just so they could be less frustrated?

Yes. She could believe.

Her chest hurt. The macaroni was heavier than she first thought.

"Will you let me wear my helmet?" she asked.

"Of course!" He patted his showercap. "Headwear is a very important personal choice!

Chloe thought some more.

"This is acceptable," she said, and lifted her arms. The stranger stared at her. Neither of them moved for several seconds.

"What are you doing."

"You need to lift me up."

The stranger stuck his hands under her armpits and did so, holding his arms fully extended out in front of him. She dangled in the air, up, up, so high up, higher than she'd ever managed on a swing, and without the heavy weight of rope and swing seat to remind her she was pinned to this mudball planet. She felt weightless, floating, a dizzyingly wonderful feeling.

They stayed like that for several moments.

"Is this what parenting is?" the stranger asked. "It's a lot easier than they made it sound."

Chloe was so high up, her vision extended over the sea of cars, and she spotted her caretakers--former caretakers--rushing out of the grocery store, looking around wildly.

"Put me down," she said. She would have liked to stay up there for longer. For hours. Maybe she could get him to do it again later. The man used to do it all the time, before the arguing started. The stranger set her feet on the pavement, and began to toss the cart's contents into the trunk without any care for fragility. He did not seem particularly rushed or concerned, for all that he said he was kidnapping her. And wasn't kidnapping illegal?

The car was nothing like the sleek blue sedan her parents drove. The man washed it obsessively, and acted as if you had removed an organ if you so much as borrowed a single sparkplug, even if the project was important.

Not only did this car look as if it hadn't been washed, ever, it also looked like it might dissolve if you tried. It was mostly rust held together by duct tape. The car was decorated in strange patterns picked out by objects hot glued to the sides: rubber ducks, dice, plastic flowers, and many, many teeth. From the looks of it, mostly Odocoileus virginianus and Procyon lotor, although she had to wonder about some of the molars.  

"Chloe!" someone shouted. "Chloe, where are you!"

Chloe opened the door of the car and climbed inside. There was a moldy grey blanket on the car seat. She unfolded it and draped it over herself. It smelled like seaweed and toothpaste. She tried to look as much like a non-child lump as she could.

The trunk closed. Through the thin blanket she saw the shadow of the stranger--her new caretaker--lean over her. He wound all three seatbelts across her, pinning her to the seat.

"Safety first!" he said.

The car's engine whined and groaned and the calls got closer. They wouldn't be able to see her under the blanket. She was hidden. It was safe.

All the same, she felt a rush of relief when the engine finally growled to life. The car shot backwards and then came to an abrupt halt with a crash and the tinkle of glass. The seatbelts held her so fast Chloe didn't even move.

"Whoopsie!" the man said. The car lurched forwards and came to another abrupt halt with another crash. "Sorry!" Forward. Smash. "Oopsie daisy!" Back. Crash. "Almost got it!"

This time when the car sped forward, it did not stop, although Chloe did hear a scream and a bump as they turned a sharp corner.

"There we go!"

Chloe waited a few more minutes before working her arms free and pulling the blanket down from over her helmet. The car was zipping down the road, swerving violently between the other cars. In the space of three minutes they shot through two red lights. Her new caretaker was humming an offkey ditty to himself, as if he was taking a casual stroll through the park.

"Who are you?" Chloe asked.

"I am Dr Calligosto Loboto! The greatest dentist in the world!" He threw out an arm dramatically and his claws punctured the roof of the car. She could see many similar holes clustered in the same area.

"My name is Chloe. I hail from the planet Cygnus A."

"Ooooh, you're an alien! That explains the helmet! You better keep that thing on, I don't want you suffocating in our atmosphere!"

Chloe couldn't name the feeling in her chest, except that it was a good one.

"That's what I kept telling them! Just because I can breathe your air doesn't mean it doesn't have a detrimental effect on my lungs!"

"Of course!" the doctor said, genuinely annoyed. "That's Alien 101! Boy, your parents are weird."

"They aren't my parents," Chloe said, firmly. "They're my human caretakers. They were looking after me while I'm on the planet. Someday my real parents will return for me, and take me back to the home planet."

"Makes sense to me! I wonder if that makes this less of a felony."

[kunikuzxshi]

Shigaraki smut because I’m bored

NSFW | Pairing shigaraki x female reader | degrading, oral, masturbation, restraining | Dom shiggy | Smut and some fluff (eventually)

A/N : I don’t write smut so I don’t know how good this is lol

——————————————————————————

It almost seemed like it was intentional.

When you first joined the league, you were wearing a short, black skirt along with black thigh high boots and a dark red top. You barely had any makeup on, and you had a choker that seemed too big for your neck. Your hair covered most of your face, and your blindfold covered your eyes, leaving only your mouth visible.

The way you walked didn’t help. You hips swayed with every step you took, sometimes making your skirt ride up. Your top had a deep V neck shape, revealing some of your chest.

You sat down at the bar, taking a sip of your whiskey. You originally agreed to meet with them a month ago to talk about an alliance, but your group had disbanded. Dabi convinced you to join instead.

He couldn’t help but stare. Your h/c hair covered your ears and rested on your back, curling slightly at the end. Your quirk wasn’t special, it was useful but you couldn’t do much with it either. Yet there was still something captivating him, whether it was the mystery of what was behind your blindfold, or what was under your clothes.

He stared at you, your beautiful voice filling the room as Dabi introduced you to toga and twice. He didn’t even notice you approaching him.

“So you must be Shigaraki, nice to meet you!” You said, your voice filled with excitement. Your smile seemed to make the room that much brighter.

He wanted to say something, but you were already gone, his eyes going back to staring into space.

He would catch himself coming out of his room more just to hear your voice. You never took off your blindfold around anyone except Dabi, it was a little strange to him. Out of all the people, why would you show dabi, especially when you had him. He would cherish your beautiful eyes. Hell, he hasn’t even seen them and yet he still finds himself trying to figure out what color your eyes are, getting lost in his own imagination.

Your smile seemed to brighten the room. Every time you entered a room, all eyes were on you. He couldn’t decide if he hated it or if he liked it, most likely both. Men would go up to you, asking you out, but he knew it was only to see what was under your clothes. They were all little boys in a man’s body to him.

He could’ve treated you the way you deserved, if only you weren’t so goddamn scary. Your insults were never held back. You would say what was on your mind, whether it was a compliment or something that could completely ruin one’s self esteem. Every time someone had approached you with the familiar bouquet of flowers, you would turn them down, insulting and slapping them before turning around. He couldn’t risk it, not with the way he thinks of himself. You’d only dig a deeper hole into him, it’s not like his opinion about himself was necessarily good anyway.

Group pictures sent to him by toga would always end up covered in his seed, even if it was an innocent picture of you and twice. Hell, he’d take anything he could get. Bedsheet after bedsheet would end up stained and ruined, and he’d have to wipe off his phone afterwards.

His eyes would move over everything about you. Your neck, your hips, your smile, anything was good enough for him. He’d focus on your face the most though, trying to imagine how well you’d take him. Your neck was a good one too, oh what he’d give to see the collar he had gotten on you.

——————————————————————————

His pants were getting tighter by the second it seemed. You were so close to him, he couldn’t help it. Your scent filled the air. Dabi had spilled his liquor on your shirt, allowing some of it to become transparent. He couldn’t help but look, thank god “father” was covering his face.

He quickly got up after he had memorized that scene, sprinting back to his room before locking the door and palming his erection, biting his lip as he leaned against the door. Moving his hand down to his pants, he pulled them down. Pre had already stained his clothes unfortunately, but he didn’t care about that right now.

He could hear you yelling at Dabi behind the door. Normally, he’d be terrified that you’d yell at him next, but this was a special case. He started stroking his cock, smearing pre over his lower half. His lip had started to bleed due to the pressure he put it on in an attempt to muffle his groans.

God, he couldn’t get enough. Your shirt was transparent, just enough to the point where he could see your bra. Some had gotten on your thighs, and some was on your face. He could’ve cleaned you off if you would let him, but you were to busy with Dabi to pay attention to him. Oh what he’d give to see your bra on the floor in his bedroom.

He came in his hand, his seed dripping onto the floor, earning a drawn out moan from him. The noise had stopped, and he started panicking. What if you hear him? What would you do if you did? Surely you’d humiliate him in front of everyone. Everything seemed to stop. His head was spinning, and his heart seemed to jump out of his chest.

A few minutes later, you slammed your door shut. That’s all it took for him to calm down.

——————————————————————————

After about a month, Shigaraki had warmed up to you. He let you in his room. He had a tall bookshelf in the corner, filled with mangas from multiple different anime’s on one shelf, and video games on the next. There were clothes on the floor, but you expected there to be. The only clean areas were his bed, his computer, and his couch. The rest was either covered in energy drink cans or clothes, most likely both.

He sat down on his couch, motioning for you to sit next to him. He started up a movie as you curled up into your hoodie, the room was colder than you’d expected. After about 5 minutes of shivering, you moved closer to him, curling up in his lap, trying to warm up.

What an unfortunate spot for you to be.

He tried to move you, but every time he repositioned you, you ended up back on the same spot, right on his hardening cock. You already assumed that whatever was poking you was a key or a pocket knife.

Every time you moved, your ass rubbed against his cock. He had to bite his lip to stop himself from moaning in your ear. He wasn’t complaining, but it wasn’t exactly the best thing that could happen right now. How would you react if you found out your boss had a thing for you, getting to the point where he gets hard just thinking about you? You’d call him a creep, wouldn’t you?

You only noticed when you felt something wet against you. You got out of his lap and took off your skirt to inspect the wet spot. That only made his throbbing erection worse. His cock was painfully hard, the last thing he needed was for you to humiliate him, even if it was only you two.

Looking down at him sitting on the couch, you finally noticed the tent in his pants. He couldn’t even look at you, he just sat there, waiting for you to insult him.

“I’m sorry... it just happened. I tried to move you! I swear! It’s not my fault...” he mumbled, letting his hair cover his face so he didn’t have to look at you.

Imagine the surprise on his face when you kissed him.

He wasted no time in forcing your mouth open for his tongue. Immediately, he started groping anywhere he could reach, his hands slipping under your hoodie. You tried to pull away to breathe, but he didn’t let you, holding your head in place, still trying to get a taste of you.

He pulled away, eagerly taking off your clothes, only leaving you in your underwear, before doing the same. He pulled you on his lap, biting your neck to leave proof that he was there, that he had you, even for a few minutes. His grip on you tightened, he didn’t want this to be the last time.

Your blindfold was still on, that’s the one thing he didn’t try to take off. You slowly removed it, dropping it on the floor as he picked you up and carried you to the bed. His eyes tearing up a little bit from the thought of you leaving. He didn’t even realize you took your blindfold off.

He didn’t find disgust when he looked into them, most people would have despised him, calling him a creep and a pervert. You didn’t seem to care that he was staring at you. All he found was soft, e/c eyes staring back into his. It made his heart stop, he could get lost in your eyes for hours.

He reached behind you to unclip your bra. He couldn’t believe you didn’t push him away, everyone else would have. His chuckle made your eyes glow more than they already did, a small smile appearing on your face, barely noticeable from where he was.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back into a heated kiss, his hands exploring your thighs as you let him have you. He took in every scent, every sound, every movement, anything that had to do with you. He loved it, it made his heart ache thinking it would end.

He moved one of your hands to his member, his precum staining his boxers. You pulled away and kissed his jaw, squeezing his cock through his boxers, earning a yelp from him as he started thrusting his hips into your touch.

You removed his boxers, revealing his throbbing member. It definitely wasn’t small, and you weren’t sure how it’d fit. Tomura’s a fairly skinny guy, but his cock was the opposite. Long and thick, the head of it covered in his precum, already covering your hand.

He groaned as you moved your hand up and down it, his eyes closing as he threw his head back. It felt so good to have a girl touch him so intimately, especially you. He forced your head down, your lips just an inch away from the leaking head of his cock.

His breathing picked up as he pushed your head down on his cock. God, you felt good. He started thrusting into your mouth, giving you no time to adjust. It wasn’t bad, not at all, the only thing you could complain about was your jaw starting to hurt.

It didn’t take him long to finish. He pulled your head back before throwing you back against the bed. His hands found their way to your wrists, pinning them above your head. You looked so pretty with his cum on you, he couldn’t resist taking a picture!

As you tried to get comfortable, he slid his hand under your underwear, making you freeze.

“Damn, you really are a slut, aren’t you?” He said, a small chuckle following not long after as he shoved a finger inside, your whimpers only fueling him.

“It would be a shame to let you go, wouldn’t it? You’d make such a good little pet, just for me...” he said, his voice low and husky as he leaned against your ear.

Pushing two fingers into you, he rubbed your clit with his thumb, cherishing every noise you made, memorizing every moan and whine that came out of your mouth. Every little movement, every little sound, he had memorized, just in case this was the only time, in case you actually grew brain cells and realized what was going on.

He knelt down, his face eye-level with your dripping little cunt. He pulled his fingers out and licked them, cherishing your taste. Slowly, he pushed his tongue in, letting you get used to the feeling before lapping at your walls.

His hands grabbed your thighs, keeping you from closing your legs around his head as he continued his assault. With every lick, he moaned shamelessly against your clit. Your lewd noises only fueled him as he pulled you closer to him.

“C’mon little slut, I’m waiting. It’s alright, go ahead and let yourself go, I won’t complain.” He said, his smirk growing as he lowered his head again, hands gripping your thighs harder.

He licked up every drop of your cum, whether it was on his bed or on you. He got up, immediately pinning your arms as he crawled on top of you. He lowered his head to bite your neck, more proof that he was there, and proof that it had actually happened.

He pulled your hips up to meet his own, lining ha cock against your entrance as he pushed the tip in. He let you adjust to just his tip before he slammed the rest of his member into you. Your pleas for him to slow down falling on deaf ears as he pounded into your tight little cunt.

“Good girl, you’re taking me so well! I’ll break you slowly, sound good? I’m sure you’ll be fine. You were already so fucking wet for me, weren’t you? You like being held by your boss, don’t you? C’mon little slut, let me hear how good I make you feel, it’s just us!” He whispered in your ear, his pace never ceasing.

You couldn’t even speak, only managing to get one or two words out before getting cut off by your own noises. All you could do was nod, but that seemed to get the message through.

He sped up, chasing his own release as he played with your thighs, kneading the soft skin on one before moving his hand back to your hips.

“That’s it baby, just like that! You’re doing so well! It’d be a shame to stop now, but I don’t think you want me to.”

He finished with a groan, taking his cock out of your swollen cunt, letting both of your juices leak out before taking a picture. He’d have material for weeks now.

He laid down next to you, slipping on your hoodie for you before pressing his chest against your back. His arms found their way around your waist. He buried his face into the crook of your neck, leaving gentle kisses along your collarbone and up your neck.

“You won’t leave me... right?” He asked, his voice quiet and weak as he spoke, barely audible at all.

“Of course not shig! Why would you think that? Is something wrong?” You asked, your voice stained with concern. All he did in response was shake his head.

——————————————————————————

“What’s wrong with him!” You shouted, unaware that Tomura was behind the door, waiting with food he had gotten for you. “He just won’t leave me alone Toga, what’d I even do? He’s persistent, and its getting on my nerves.” You said, his heart broke into a million pieces.

This wasn’t you, it couldn’t be. It was just one of twice’s clones, it had to be! There was no way his loving girlfriend would say anything like that about him... right?

“You could just tell shig doll.” Dabi spoke up, his figure looming over yours as he moved to the door. “I’m sure he wouldn’t mind taking care of it, just one less asshat for both of you.”

“He’s busy, and every time I try to talk to him, he gets dragged away by someone. So tell me, how am I supposed to do that? He’s barely ever alone with me anyway.” You said, clearly annoyed, though it did help you to know Dabi at least thought about a solution for you. Guess he did care at least some.

Toga stood in silence as Shigaraki tried to process what he had heard. Your food was getting cold by the time he realized it wasn’t about him. Slowly, he waited for a description, but he never got one.

Instead, he followed you for the day. Waiting for this so called “asshat” to approach you. So far, everyone that had approached you had a reason, whether it was to talk about an upcoming mission or to ask about your relationship.

Just as he was leaving for a meeting, that little son of a bitch had showed up. He was being really touchy with you, grabbing you from behind and talking to you like you were old pals. It made Tomura’s blood boil.

“Y/N! We’re late, let’s go.” He shouted, just looking for some excuse to get you away from him.

The second you were within his reach, he grabbed you. Quickly biting your neck before licking the wound. He pampered you with kisses, holding you tightly against him. Your face might as well be the color red itself. He only stopped to glare at the other male, who was watching in disbelief, before going back to you.

——————————————————————————

He always had you next to him from then on, whether it was just for a quick meeting or a conversation with Re-destro. The only exception was missions, you weren’t even allowed to go anywhere outside of the base without him or one of the original league members, maybe even Re-destro or Trumpet if he was in a good mood.

There were days he’d clear his schedule just so he could stay in bed with you for an extra few hours before you woke up.

When he’d leave, there would always be a pile of his clothes on his gaming chair for you. He’d gotten you shoes to match his. He let you paint his nails once or twice before as well. He’d walk around the base with his hands on display, clearly taking pride in them, all because it was done by you. Toga would laugh with Dabi, twice would argue with himself about whether it was cute or not, and the other males would ignore it.

Every night, he’d usually come back to his room with you sleeping in his bed. On rare occasions when you couldn’t sleep, you’d curl up in his lap and sleep. He’d have to carry you back to his room from his spot in meetings, kissing your forehead before going back to reviewing mission plans.

On rare occasions that you were awake, you’d leave food on the bedside table for him in case he got back before you. Little stickers would be placed on the side of the plate, almost always left by toga or twice. You had given up on taking them off, for every time you’d remove one, another one would show up in the same spot.

The first time you had gotten your period, he freaked out. You were mad at him and he didn’t even know why! He thought he fucked up, that you’d break up with him the second you calmed down. Eventually, Toga explained it to him. She would give him small snacks for him to leave next to you. Rings, roses, necklaces, and food would be left as peace offerings. If you needed anything he’d get it, whether you asked for it or not. He did find it cute when you’d sit in the pile of clothes he had worn for the day in one of his hoodies, but you’d never let him actually put them back on.

You’d both spend hours trying out games. He bought you your own controller and wrote your name on it. The second anyone would touch it, he’d throw the nearest object at them, whether it was a chair or a pen.

You’d walk around the base in his clothes, which were clearly too big on you. Sometimes you’d even attempt to match him. You’d bandage your limbs and slip on some of his clothes in order to look like him. The only difference in clothing was your blindfold and “father”. He’ll drag you around and show you off for the whole day. Don’t complain please, it makes him happy when you act like it’s fun, even if it isn’t.

The only time either of you would take off your face covering was when you two were alone. Every time, he’d get lost in your eyes as you held his hand. Artist gloves were worn every time, just in case. He couldn’t get enough of you. Every detail, every noise, and every movement was memorized.

He was changing the whole world for you, whether he admits it or not.

——————————————————————————

I really don’t like how it turned out but it’s been in my drafts for a long time