#it will never happen but a girl(gn) can dream

[edgepunk]

I can't find the post I made (thanks tumblr search function) but I still love the idea of an anthology Fallout show, taking place in the Mojave. Like I said in the post I made - every episode would start with a faceless figure delivering packages to people the episode is about. It can be a raider, a farmer, an NCR soldier, maybe even a Vault dweller. Some episodes would be more action-packed and some of them would be calmer, about simple people going about their day and trying to survive another day in the Wasteland.

The last few minutes of the last episode would go back to the figure that gets chased down by Khans and a certain man in a checkered suit.

[connormoving]

loveee when a character is crushed under the weight of someone elses expectations for them love when a character dedicates their entire life to something they never even wanted for themself love when the only reason a character keeps going is because theyre Supposed to and bc theyre supposed to make another person happy/proud. YES !!! CLAPPING !!! YES !!!!!!!!

[areislol]

being transported into their world

►— pairings. honkai star rail men x gn! creator! reader

►— warnings. nothing really, not proof read 🙅🏻‍♀️, caelus is the trailblazer, romantic but you can see it was platonic if you want to! girls in the astral express are mentioned for a bit, i mentioned both dan heng and imbibitor lunae so don't mind that! mentions of self attempt/bodily harm for blade, boothill is ooc probably, spoilers of penacony quest, skipping herta space station (will be mentioned in other chapters though!), sahau (self aware honkai au)

►— synopsis. their beloved creator, the one who created many worlds, including theirs, had yet to return after thousands of years. but lately, they've been experiencing strange things, feeling like a heavenly, divine figure loomed over them. could it possibly be their one and only creator?

►— a/n. i've been thinking about a self-aware au but a honkai star rail version for a couple of weeks now after my reverse isekai'd genshin sagau series. also this may be a bit biased towards dang feng (imbibitor lunae) because uh i like him, maybe you can tell?

►— wordcount. 4.5k

part 2

for days they've felt uncomfortable, well, slightly. it only began to happen a couple of months ago when they felt as if something, no... someone was controlling their every movement and choice.

during their adventures, they felt an unsettling sensation creep upon them like a shadow in the night—a feeling of being watched, of a presence looming over their every move.

the presence was overwhelming, their body would stiffen, and they felt as if something like a heavy, invisible blanket was casted upon them.

at first, the passengers in the astral express dismissed it as mere paranoia, attributing it to the heightened tension of their journey or maybe the warping effects in the train. but as days passed and the sensation persisted, they couldn't shake off the unnerving feeling that they were not alone, that someone or something was observing their every action.

at times, they would catch fleeting whispers carried by the wind, faint voices that echoed in the corners of their minds. yet, despite their efforts, they could never make out the words, the words slipping through their grasp like elusive dreams.

as the feeling grew more pronounced, thoughts began to gnaw at their consciousness. who or what could possibly be speaking to them? why is it that every now and then they would feel a sudden boost and surge of power?

they knew deep down that the only being in the universe could make them feel that was,it could be no other than their creator.

the mere thought that their creator was dropping hints of their arrival was exciting. and only when the astral express crew noticed how each and every one of them felt the same exact things—looking around the moment they heard a voice, their body in sync as they tensed up... it was all too coincidental not to notice.

as they talked with one another and pieced the puzzle pieces together, using the information they found along the way travelling to each region, it all became clear.

it was a pivotal moment in their journey, the truth was revealed. in a flash of realization, they discovered that the presence they felt, the elusive voice they heard, was none other than their creator—the architect of their existence, the mastermind behind their trials and tribulations.

dan heng, himeko, welt, march and caelus had a hunch that it was their beloved creator, it couldn't be anyone else. everything added up, everything made sense. they acted like mad scientists, scurrying to their rooms and digging around every nook and cranny of their room, finding any evidence and papers that mentioned you, the creator.

as they all met up back on the train they carefully placed each and every newspaper and article about you. they had to make sure that it was really you. some of the articles that dan heng bought were from way back, thousands of years ago, he refused to tell anyone where he had gotten them from.

"in the vast expanse of the universe, where time flowed like a meandering river and galaxies danced in an eternal cosmic ballet, there existed a being unlike any other—a being known simply as a creator. born out of the primordial chaos, the creator was a solitary entity who traversed the endless void, seeking purpose in a universe devoid of meaning.

for millennia, the creator roamed the expanse, witnessing the birth and death of stars, the rise and fall of civilizations, and the ebb and flow of cosmic energies. yet, amidst the vastness of space and time, the creator found itself consumed by an overwhelming sense of ennui, a profound boredom that gnawed at their very essence.

then, the creator embarked on a journey of creation—a quest to fill the void with worlds of its own design, to sculpt realities from the raw clay of the cosmos. with a mere thought, the creator breathed life into barren planets, adorned them with oceans and mountains, and populated them with a myriad of creatures both strange and wondrous.

as creator delved deeper into their newfound passion, they discovered a love for the act of creation—a love that transcended time and space, a passion that ignited a fire within its soul. with each world it fashioned, each story it crafted, the creator found solace in the act of shaping reality, in the sheer joy of bringing something new into existence.

for six thousand years, the creator laboured tirelessly, weaving tapestries of worlds and galaxies, each one a testament to its boundless imagination and creative prowess. from the smallest blade of grass to the mightiest empires, the creator poured their heart and soul into every facet of creation, infusing each world with a unique charm and character all its own.

yet, amidst the infinite expanse of its creations, the creator remained a solitary figure—a godlike being adrift in a sea of its own making, forever yearning for companionship in a universe devoid of peers. and so, the creator continued their eternal quest, weaving worlds out of boredom and growing a love and passion for creation that would endure for eternity. and we, this universe, was crafted by none other than the creator, the place we call home. it is said that only after six thousand will the creator return to us, to watch over us once more."

the article itself looked worn, it wasn't signed by anyone, and no one knew who wrote it, or how they got the information. but it seemed plausible. millenniums... it has been well over six thousand years, it was about time the creator descended.

they had to be prepared, they had to tell the rest of their friends and families, the world. as much as they would like to keep the information to themselves they knew that you deserved a much better, bigger and more beautiful welcome.

sampo, gepard and luka were more than stunned and nervous, to say the least. their creator... was finally returning back? upon hearing the news from caelus they were sceptical at first, deep down they really wanted to see you in your glory, to finally meet the creator, but at the same time, it was nerve-wracking.

what should they say? what should they do in preparation and celebration? what gifts and offers should they give to you? nothing would do. they were positive that anything they bought, even if it got them in debt, would suffice. you deserved more than a measly couple of dishes and the most delicate and fitting garnets.

it was embarrassing really, their hearts racing as they tried their best to think of what to bring to your feet. but one thing they all had in common was their loyalty to you. if it was their life you wanted then so be it.

sampo is sampo, he was sure that his creator's glory and attractiveness were over the top, he would be sure to compliment you as many times as his mouth could allow, but he was sure that your beauty would be intimidating. no matter your looks your presence was more than enough.

gepard is nervous. his mind is full of "what ifs" and "what should i.." not even his sister can calm him down. every morning and night when he closes his eyes he's anticipating the day his sister barges into his room, yelling that the creator had finally descended. although he isn't quite sure of what to offer you he knows that whenever you need him, whatever you call him for he will be there in less than a minute, by your side or feet if you prefer.

whatever you ask of him, whatever favour you need from, he will never say no.

luka on the other hand is absolutely pumped to meet you! he had heard stories of you when he was a child, and from the stories told by the adults they described you as a kind being, who soon fell in love with the art, beauty and joy of creating. well, their most favourite was creating worlds.

he was absolutely sure that you would be the most kindest, heavenly person he had ever met, what was there to worry about now? luka knew that if he ever laid eyes on you he would fall in love no doubt, he would do anything for you. maybe you would agree to watch his wrestling matches?

jing yuan, blade, imbibitor lunae, and luocha are the most excited of all, sure, everyone is elated to finally meet you with their very own eyes. but them? oh lord... they all believe to be your worshipper, having heard tales of you from their parents, this alone caused them to be awe and love-struck with you.

they were a firm believer in you, you did no wrong in their eyes. all your actions and words were justified. they followed your principles, they made sure to announce their presence every time they came to your altar and placed down the most expensive jewels, dishes and gifts. (they had a shrine of you at home don't worry)

jing yuan was the one of the firsts to get hints that you were finally returning, the divine foresight fu xuan always looked so weary and cautious, but as time grew she began to be more... happy and elated, yet everytime he questioned her she was tense up and smile like it was nothing. and only when he pried did she say that she saw things, saw a blurred face, and heard a voice. "don't be alarmed... i'm here to tell you that.."

he made sure that everyone who worked under him and every prominent person knew of this, he began to make preparations of your arrival, he cancelled all meetings and plans, only focusing on you and your arrival. everything had to be perfect. he had even forgotten about the wanted criminal blade. jing yuan booked the most fanciest restaurant for a month max, he wasn't sure when you were coming, of course, so a month it was.

jing yuan prepared every entertainment and paid the orchestra, he wanted everything to be perfect, even the most minuscule details.

blade's loyalty was and is only for you and only you. he may be cold and stone-hearted (we all know it's false) but if it's you... whatever you ask for he will do it no doubt. he refuses to take orders from a stranger even if it is his friend, but if it's you? say no more. blade knew you were a kind soul, you needed protection from the other so-called "enemies" (he proclaimed it!).

he swore that you saved his life, years ago when everything was tumbling down, when his feelings got the better of him, he tried doing the unthinkable, as he blacked out he suddenly "saw" something.. a beacon of light, it was magical and airy, he tried his best to grasp onto the light but obviously could not.

it floated further and further away, and he followed it, his eyes glued only on the beacon of light. as it stopped moving, so did he, he continued staring at the light as it shrank into a ball, it didn't speak, it didn't look anywhere, it stayed there. suddenly he woke up, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath. what was that?

sweat clung to his forehead when jingliu found him, concerned she rushed over to him, he refused to say a single word. he was left perplexed. what was the ball of light? why did he feel so at ease? why did it only appear after he...

he would make it his mission to meet you before the rest do other than the astral express crew and become your bodyguard, even if you deny his offer he will stick with you no matter what. of course, he would respect your boundaries but he knew that you didn't have the heart to deny anyone, especially your creation.

imbibitor lunae absolutely adores you, even if he was reincarnated the memories still pass on. and the tales being told by the grown-ups were famous around his area and still is. from the earliest days of his existence, tales of the creator had woven themselves into the fabric of his consciousness, painting a portrait of a being of boundless kindness and infinite compassion.

as a child, imbibitor lunae had listened with rapt attention to stories passed down through generations, tales of the creator's benevolence and the miracles they wrought upon the world. and in the quiet moments of the night, he would gaze up at the starry expanse above, whispering prayers to the creator, his heart overflowing with admiration and reverence.

when news of the creator's imminent return after six thousand years reached his ears, his heart soared with unbridled joy. in no time he set about preparing for your arrival, pouring his heart and soul into crafting the perfect gifts to present to his divine benefactor.

drawing inspiration from the tales of old, he fashioned intricate trinkets and tokens of his affection, each one imbued with his unwavering devotion and love. amidst the swirling maelstrom of feelings, one thing remained constant: his unwavering love for the creator.

imbibitor swore that once he felt or sensed a sign that would be arriving he would immediately act, he would be the first to meet and lay his eyes on your divine figure. slap him as many times as you want if you found it rude, he would only thank you.

luocha, despite remaining calm and composed on the outside, internally, he was freaking OUT. luocha found himself grappling with a myriad of conflicting thoughts and emotions. on one hand, he felt a profound sense of excitement at the prospect of meeting the creator, the architect of his existence and the source of all that he held dear.

yet, on the other hand, he couldn't shake off the nagging feeling of inadequacy, the fear of not being able to live up to your expectations.

his mind raced with a flurry of possibilities. what gifts would you appreciate? what could he offer to express his gratitude and reverence for the being who had breathed life into his world? with each passing moment, the weight of the impending meeting pressed down upon him like a heavy burden, filling him with a sense of anxiety.

despite his inner turmoil, luocha maintained a facade of calm and composure, determined not to let his anxieties show. with a steely resolve, he set about meticulously planning and preparing for your arrival, carefully considering every detail in his quest to find the perfect gift.

he even resorted to asking the children about what gifts he should bring, and yes, they did laugh at him but helped him nonetheless.

from ornate trinkets to rare treasures, luocha spared no effort in his search for the ideal offering, pouring his heart and soul into each carefully chosen item. yet, even as he laboured tirelessly to ensure that everything was perfect, doubts continued to gnaw at the edges of his mind, although one thing was for sure, if you didn't like any of his gifts he wouldn't be upset rather, maybe all you wanted was his whole body and life, and he would not hesitant once to give it up for you.

they all couldn't wait to meet you.

aventurine, sunday, gallagher and boothill are freaking out. horribly. mainly aventurine.. once the news had reached them from the astral express that it was possible (about 98%) that you were the comet arriving in a week... oh boy were they NERVOUS. everything HAD to be perfect. they had everything to thank you for, during their life and death situation they were lucky enough to survive—thanks to you.

it was only natural to return the favour, you created them, their personality, their arms, legs, their body, you sculpted their face, you made them. you made the very world they live in right now, the world they call home... they were sure you were by their side, making them make the right decisions and the right thing. aventurine? oh, the amount of MONEY he will spend buying everything he thinks you'd like, the fanciest, most elegant and most expensive shoes, clothing and accessories. he would rent out an entire week or months of work at a restaurant if you'd like to dine alone or with a couple of people. he knows his luck is a part of him, he can only pray that he'll meet you first with his luck.

sunday... just the sound of your name makes him tear up. he could've sworn that one time you spoke to him, your other-worldly echoing voice speaking to him directly about the loss of his dear sister. and here he stood in his room, looking out the window, and in the far distant a light shimmering as it swiftly dived down. a shooting star. he knows that with everyone getting the news they're all aiming to be the first to meet you, and trust me, he does want to meet you FIRST. the second you land he'll be there right with you and guiding you to safety—penacony.

but first, he must pinpoint where exactly you'll land. and with his power and influence he will most definitely try his best to find you and be sure to hide you from everyone else... he needs you, desperately.

gallagher and boothill have exactly the same thoughts. to present themselves good to you and spend every minute and second with you. but with everyone gossiping and spreading rumours about your arrival it's hard to be unique. everyone wants to be with you, everyone wants your favour. but they could never worship you as much as them. they had dreamed of this moment, it seemed unreal to meet their own creator but nonetheless, they clung to their hope and boy did it not go to waste.

boothill basically pauses any mission he needs to complete, that can wait. you are eternal. he's practically on edge with the fact that at any moment the comet would crash through and there you'd be, dozing peacefully.. like an angel. he won't hesitate to cause some trouble or initiate some violence if it means that they don't get to see you first.

gallagher on the other hand tries to stay hidden and in the shadows. of course, he'd like to meet you face to face but with the feeling of an overwhelming and looming divine presence, it's all too much. and if that's too much then what would he feel when you stand right before him? he's like an overprotective dog, fiercely loyal and clingy. even if you can't spot him he'll be right there, lurking and watching.

dr. ratio and argenti are absolutely and 100% loyal and would do EVERYTHING in their power to meet you, even a glance would do, anything to feed their curiosity and desperate need to know the creator. so when they get wind that you were supposedly descending down... they freeze on the spot, their breath hitches as their eyes widen. could it really be?

dr. ratio was always a curious boy, and he has you to thank for giving him consciousness and the opportunities to venture out and earn knowledge and eventually spreading his knowledge to his students (preaching i guess you can say). he's a bit biased when it comes to talking about you to his friends or students, and speaking your name in a more positive light, not that anyone minds, if anything they agree!

although he isn't much of a gifter or "i'll spend my money on you" he's more of a "anything you want just tell me". if you told him to drop his precious books to come and tend to your needs he would do it in a heartbeat.

to argenti you are the standard and epitome of "beauty". the beauty he has been searching for his entire life. he intends to shower you with compliments and roses freshly picked by hand unless you're allergic or not a fan of flowers, fear not! compliments should do! be ready to be bombarded with such positivity, compliments and gifts from the knight of beauty.

anything you wish for he will try his utmost best to get it done perfectly and quickly. "your hair looks so pretty like this..." say no more, he will always style it and keep it exactly like that! "my feet feel so sore from all the walking" ?!!? why is his dear walking anyway!?!? don't worry, he'll massage it for you! "ugh all this work is making me tired" move aside, let him do the honours!!

It was a long ride home from work, you were currently in an almost empty bus, glancing over the top of your phone you read the time. 11 P.M.

Was it that late already? You knew this office job would be the death of you. You never wanted to work at a place like this, the cubicle life bored you and it was just so... depressing. That was the only way to describe it.

You decide to pass the time by playing your all-time favourite game: Honkai: Star Rail. The soft glow of the screen illuminated your face as you began to grind relics and exp for an upcoming character. It definitely worked in keeping you busy and awake as time passed by slowly.

All was well, everything was fine. You had everything planned in your head. Get home as soon as possible, take a nice warm and rejuvenating shower, get five hours of sleep, go back to work and repeat.

The more you thought about your daily routine the more you realised how depressing it was, but what could you do? That job was the only one that was hiring and had average pay and things like that are rare, especially when you decided to live in the city which was your first mistake.

You were barely getting by in the city, the crime rate increased, there were more breaks in, pickpocketing and murder. But despite all of that you decided to rent an apartment where it was less populated, the rent in the heart of the city was way too high.

Pushing all those thoughts and information aside you let out a defeated sigh, leaning your head on the window as you continued to tap away on your phone.

If only life went just a little bit easier on you.

Everything was fine. The silence was comfortable and the low, soft rumble of the engine kept you awake, until a loud deafening crash jolted the bus, sending people flying and falling onto the ground.

Letting out a scream you grabbed onto whatever you could to keep you steady—the head of the chair in front of you. Although it didn't do a good job of keeping you still you couldn't care less, because as you lifted your head, your eyes caught something massive charging straight at you, and before you could react, a blinding light engulfed you, followed by an eerie silence.

When you regained consciousness, you found yourself tightly packed against something dark and rocky. Just great! Something had happened to the bus and knocked you out.

You looked around, it was pure blackness, like a void. Maybe this was what happened after death... Out of all things and especially the time too!

Feeling confused and scared you try to move your body to shift into a more comfortable position but due to the lack of space, you could barely even move an inch.

Suddenly, a crack was heard. And you froze.

Then another crack, and another, the darkness began to crack and splinter and not long after half of the egg-shaped looking ball broke in half as it fell to the side.

Shards of obsidian-like material fractured and scattered around. A large amount of dust, and shiny glitter-like specs flew everywhere, it was extremely dusty.

Unfortunately, you inhaled the smoke, coughing and sputtering, you waved their hand in front of your face, trying to dispel the particles as you squinted against the harsh light that slipped through the smoke.

As the dust settled and the steam dissipated, your surroundings gradually came into focus. You found yourself in front of... one, two, three, four, and... five.... wait.. what?

Right before you stood four male figures (with the other seemed to have a more feminine build), male figures that looked awfully familiar to you for some odd reason, just why was that?

You were confused and curious as you surveyed your surroundings, realizing that maybe this was death? You would've never guessed that "life" after death would look like this. It was very.... interesting.

The buildings that surrounded you were intricate and otherworldly. Dazzling celestial landscapes and luminescent structures piqued your interest as you slowly and carefully stepped out of what you assumed was a shell.

Its' architect and infrastructure reminded you of something, it seemed nostalgic—as if you've seen this exact building before. The more you observed and watched, your eyes tracing every precise curve and detail of the buildings your heart began to pick up its pace.

Your eyes searched every corner and inch, and finally, it landed back on the five figures you had spotted before and it wasn't until you caught sight of familiar faces that you were certain that you had to be hallucinating somehow after death.

There, standing in a circle, were figures that you could hardly believe were real: Caelus, Dan Heng, Gepard, and Bronya. It was unmistakably them.

Their presence, their unmistakable aura of reverence, left you no doubt.

They watched you, their gazes filled with awe and admiration as if you were the embodiment of some long-awaited prophecy (and in this case, it was).

You were in disbelief. Disbelief that you had somehow been transported into the very game they were playing moments ago, but now they were tangible, real.

It was a long silence, it was both comfortable and uncomfortable with their longing gaze. You remained still as you checked around your surroundings once again before settling your eyes back on the group of people.

At your gaze they felt a shiver down their spine, and the hair on their skin stood up.

"W—Who are you guys?!" You yelled, narrowing your eyes to see if it was truly the characters from the game you adored.

Dan Heng's breath hitched at the sound of your booming voice, your voice... it was just like how they described what you would sound like in the carved stones and ancient scrolls.

The more he stared at you the more he wanted to come to you, to kneel down at your feet and profess how long he has been waiting for this moment.

With his eyes trained on your figure, he steps closer, Gepard notices and swiftly stops him from moving any further with his arm. Dan Heng looks to his side, confusion strewn on his face.

Not a single word was spoken yet with a stern gaze and the shake of a head, Dan Heng understood. Now was not the right time.

Minutes passed by in complete and utter silence, it unnerved you. Why were they so quiet? So watchful?

Finally, after what felt like hours, the silence was broken just with a couple words.

"We have been awaiting your arrival, Your Gracefulness."

note: after 5 months WOW. i've been so busy with things i haven't had the time to really sit down and work. I'm so sorry everyone!

tags 🏷️: @tomansimp @one-offmind @miitchiji @dainsleif-when-playable @momoewn @stygianoir @irethepotato @imetsk @fiannee @sunnyf4lls @goldenglow149 @rhwm @urlocalheizousimp @saltylovetale-blog @toramune @oreo-ren @backintomykpopphaseagain @serenity-loves-red @flooofity @minteasketches @yurassia @chellazhef @fulldoves @kateybuggi @wanderingconstellations @mini-shower @160ccm @rosariashield @sickize @sarah22447 @dreamlessnight @gimmealmap @bebeluvs @caramelstarlight @sukiidreams @oceanist @achy-boo @alhaitie @dilucragnvindr-my-beloved @that-mom-friend @v-ish @merormerry @gojoulen03 @scarletttcrow @hadischara @kithewanderingme @keiqq @livelaughlovekuni @chirikoheina @wr1t3rfum1k0 @issacdaholi @yu-ulda @alysinbshsu @vanilla-sweets @your-local-reblogging-kazoo @be-gay-do-crime-ahaha @seipaws @clavichordcleffa @uhhhiwassup @youdontneedyoknowlol @the-lazy-perfectionist @issacdarknight @lucienbarkbark @bizzybkd @obliviousariies2007 @coffee-seed

(if the usernames aren’t highlighted that’s because I can’t tag you so I’ll dm you when I post a new chapter! if i forgot to tag you im so sorry!)

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liking + following + reblogs are greatly appreciated!!!

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Johnny Lawrence’s daughter

Johnny Lawrence x daughter!reader

warnings: alcohol, underage drinking, classic johnny sexism <3

a/n: WHAT! ME write a fic thats not gn, i know. im shocked too but its just bc i feel johnny is so gender-stereotypey that doing this gn wouldn’t work very well but very open to a son!r or nb!r if anyone is interested (bc seriously. johnny cannot help but bring up genders). also i just want to say that a lot of this (not all!) honestly reminds me of or are actual things that have happened w my dad bc johnny is literally my dad if my dad was like 8 years older i think also i wrote this all in one sitting ALSO NO COBRA KAI SEASON 6 SPOILERS

prompt:

GIRL DAD!

you always kinda just gravitated toward living with your dad

“y/n, i’m so proud of you. i never have to worry about you. you can take care of yourself. robby on the other hand, i worry about him. i think girls are just more self sufficient” -johnny, a little drunk

“thanks dad” -you, also a little drunk (hes a “cool dad”)

he was the type of parent that “prefers that if you’re gonna do something stupid at least do it while he’s around” aka underage drinking

whenever he stays out late you fall asleep in his bed. and lock him out

“y/n! open the door!” -johnny, banging on the door

“no! your bed is more comfortable” -you

he thought it was sweet honestly but he did want to sleep in his bed

sort of like a lesson not to come home late all drunk and gross

he was VERY against letting you drive his car

“dad, i need my license!” -you

“no woman is getting behind the wheel of my firebird” -johnny

“why do you have to make it about women? i’ll fight you” -you

“you’ll lose that fight” -johnny

“oh, so you’d fight a teenage girl? wow, real classy, dad” -you

“no, but i’d fight my teenage daughter. i brought you into this world and i’ll take you out” -johnny

you honestly had a great sense of humor with johnny, but you’d check him if he said anything too messed up

“dad, it’s not the 80’s anymore, you can’t say that” -you

“dont tell me what i can and cant say! the 80’s were awesome, i wish it was the 80’s again” -johnny

“so i’ve heard” -you

he helped you with your homework as a kid until like, 2nd grade when multiplication and division got involved

he did teach you karate growing up! but mostly the basics, for self defense purposes

“hey, never let any guy try to impress you with his karate skills. he’s probably a douche” -johnny, pausing “i sure was”

late night movie marathons (70s/80s classics for sure)

he took care of you during your first hangover (high school parties, ya know)

“didn’t i teach you better than to mix liquors” -johnny

“ugghhhh” -you

yes, you have heard about daniel larusso. enough said LMAO

robby and you had a kind of sweet but distant relationship

occasional check-in texts

robby: are you doing okay with dad? he’s actually buying food and shit?

you: yeah! he’s fine right now, how’s mom? new stepdad yet? is he rich?

robby: mom’s not going anywhere she’d find a rich guy, but keep dreaming

you wear a lot of your dad’s old t-shirts. usually band tee’s

oh and he made sure you got into the “right music”

he used to drive you around in the firebird when you were a SMALL CHILD (front seat, no car seat!) and blast his old cassettes

for YEARS he’d pull the “who is this” “what song is this” game with the reasoning:

“if you wear a band shirt and some asshole asks you to name three songs, i want you to name ten” -johnny

listen. you were still “daddy’s girl” or whatever used to be a cute little saying and is now ruined but whatever

“dad, can i have twenty bucks?” -you

“for what” -johnny

“for fun. pleaseeee” -you

*johnny pulls out his wallet and gives you $40*

could he afford it? no. can he say no? also no.

the absolute fear he felt when you got your first period

“it’s fine, i can call mom” -you

“no, it’s not fine! i’ve had girlfriends before, i got this. stay here, i’ll be back” -johnny

he went to the store and bought the most random assortment of period products and pain meds and snacks and a heating pad

A for effort

when the diaz family moved in across from you guys, miguel took one look at you and johnny said:

“stay away from my daughter”

when the karate fuss got started you tried to keep your distance but sooner or later you joined the dojo and proved to your dad just how “badass” you could be

“take notes everyone, y/n’s gonna be the next all valley champ!” -johnny

taglist: @ravenmoore14 // @retvenkos // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @an4aaa // @summersimmerus // @xoxobabydolls // @sapphireplums // @petersgroupie // @ravenhood2792 // @evilcr0ne // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @elenavampire21 // @elemental-of-magic //

[heart4gyu]

wet dreamz || sim jaeyun x reader

note: 18+ mdni!! y’all know the song lol changed it up a lil for the story tho :P this turned out longer than i expected and maybe needs a part two (??? lmk) also this is my first time writing full smut so i hope it’s not too bad and that y’all enjoy anyway okayy gn :3 not proofread sorry!! | pt.2 here |

this had honestly never happened to jake before; waking up in his bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked.

he just couldn’t help it though.

you hadn’t even noticed him before you got partnered up for a project. but him? oh, his eyes were on you the second you walked through that door on the first day of class.

how pretty you looked laughing with your friends. the sweet smell of your perfume as you walked past. the way you always got the answers right when you got called on. it started off so innocent, just a little campus crush.

after you became partners, everything changed though. the project went perfectly, of course, with both of you acing the class it was easy. but after it was over, you didn’t go back to sitting with your friends like jake thought you would. you stayed there, right next to him, every day.

you became friends. you exchanged phone numbers and you hung out quite often in the library or student center. the more time you spent together, the more jake’s want for you grew.

jake just didn’t understand how you could be so effortlessly perfect for him though.

you, on the other hand, knew exactly what you were doing. you’d observed jake long enough to know that he’s probably never made it past second base with a girl.

the way he’d turn red when you’d scoot over touching your thighs to his. the way his mouth went dry when you’d lean over his desk in a very low cut shirt. even the way he’d stare at your lips after you applied your lip gloss.

all the things you purposefully did to get his attention. because obviously how could you not go after him, he was just your type. sweet, nerdy guy who was also extremely hot.

and so far, you were doing an excellent job at it. but you were getting a little impatient with him, so you decided to tell him about this loser guy who took you out the other day. and fuck it, you decided to slip it into the conversation that he couldn’t even make you finish.

you smiled when the text bubbles appeared and disappeared over and over again. how cute.

jakeyjakey: don’t let someone like that take you out again.

you: ikr. need to find someone who can get the job done…

jakeyjakey: if you gave me the chance y/n, i’d show you a great time.

it definitely wasn’t expected but who were you to complain when this is exactly what you wanted. so you let him know that your roommate would be gone visiting family this weekend & that maybe he should come over…

so he went to bed that night, thinking about the weekend coming up. thinking about you.

and he had a sweet, sweet dream. it was so realistic too. the way your pillows smelled like you as he laid back on them with you on his lap. how soft your thighs were as his fingers grazed over them. your eyes darker than he’s ever seen them, and your voice so quiet he could barely hear it over his heartbeat.

he felt the coil in his stomach tighten the second your lips were on his. you tasted like strawberries (or at least that’s what he thought you’d taste like because of your pink gloss).

you held his face gently as you kissed him. and your tongue slipped inside his mouth so easily when he let out a deep moan for you. his eyes squeezed shut as he felt you grind down on him. your pace speeding up the longer his lips were on yours.

“jake,” you panted, he didn’t know he could want to hear your voice more but you proved him wrong with the way you sounded right now. “can you touch me?”

he could’ve came right then but he took a deep breath to compose himself and nodded, his eyes not leaving yours. he dragged his hands up your thighs and under your skirt, stopping at your ass to give it a squeeze to which you let out a whine.

giving his confidence a boost, he kept going up with one of his hands, pressing down on your lower back to close the small distance between your bodies and grinding up into you.

he broke the kiss to look down between your bodies and saw your hands working on unbuttoning his pants. he didn’t know how his breathing could become even more ragged but it did. especially so when he felt your cold hands pull his cock out of his pants, and he had to look away. he squeezed his eyes shut trying to focus but how could he with your delicate hands stroking him so perfectly.

“jakey, you said you’d show me a good time,” you said, looking up at him with those irresistible eyes of yours. fuck, fuck was all jake could think as he rolled you over, positioning himself between your legs.

“i know i did, angel,” he whispered by your ear, placing a kiss right below it. he reached under your skirt, then pulled your underwear all the way down your legs. “i’ll take care of you, don’t worry.”

he lined himself up quickly, not wanting to look like he’d never done this before. then he leaned down for a quick peck making you smile into the kiss and hearing that pretty little laugh he loves to hear. now he could push in gently and it was easier than he thought it’d be.

there was still resistance though because you were tight. so tight he had to drop his head down beside you and just breathe for a second. he could honestly just stay here forever, his cock buried so deep in you. he loved the feeling more than he expected.

you placed a hand on the nape of his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, your other hand soothing his arm that supported his weight above you. and he wanted this you always, every day, never wanted to hear you talk about another man again.

so he started thrusting into you, slow but hard thrusts. with you squeezing his arm, pulling on his hair, and moaning out his name, he was a goner for sure. “yes, that’s what i wanna hear,” he said, lips on yours as he kissed you again.

he kissed on your neck, and brought his hand down to rub circles on your clit just like in the videos he studied for you. he never heard your voice this loud before, couldn’t believe the way you looked with your head thrown back as you came around him.

he was close now too, knew his thrusts were getting sloppier. but you wrapped your legs around his waist, lifting your hips to meet his thrusts. “god, you’re so good for me,” he whined.

“i’m so close,” he said, kissing you again as you put your arms around his neck. then he heard you whisper something that he didn’t quite catch, he leaned in closer so you could repeat it.

“babe, please come in me,” you whispered. and that’s all it took for him to come undone, a moaning mess as he filled you up. he was panting at this point, trying to regulate his breathing.

and unfortunately that’s exactly how he woke up. in his own bed, heart racing, covered in sweat, and pants soaked. only one thing, or more specifically, person on his mind.

[1980shorrorfilm]

dreaming about you and me

using cailee as my ellie because it just makes sense

click here. resources for palestine, congo, sudan, and other countries.

pairing…ellie williams x gn!reader

in which…ellie moves back to jackson after a year, hoping you had waited for her.

before you read…angst. modern day fic. emo ellie. like biggg loser ellie. sad sad ellie. ellie has a cat. some bad words.

leaving the chaotic city and lousy job and miserable relationship should be exciting. being welcomed by the familiar wyoming weather, and warm embraces from joel and dina should be exhilarating.

but instead, ellie felt a vast emptiness that seemed to seep from the walls and settle deep within her. she felt alone— again.

her phone occasionally bings with an email while she waits for a text; from you. something she hasn’t received in 8 months.

not that she’s keeping count…or occasionally opens your messages to reread your happier conversations. it’s unfortunately one of the only things that helped her sleep at night, next to a girl she knew didn’t love her. not the way you do…or did.

you were friends. really really good friends.

friends that had to be invited to places together, or neither were going. friends that spent more time in each other’s bedrooms than their own. friends that slept skin to skin, no blanket being able to replicate the warmth the other gave.

friends that kissed the day ellie left; then never spoke about it again.

the occasional calls were long, and they were sweet. you asked ellie about everything and anything as she adjusted to her amazing new life.

her new place, that she was quick to inform you there’s a framed photo of you guys together on her nightstand. it’s from a summer bonfire when she had got high and used your very old camera until it ran out of storage. it's a great picture, though. you look so pretty in it, she reminds you.

she’d rant about her new job, her asshole of a boss, and her overly friendly coworker that somehow annoyed you more than her. the way she described the girl, how clingy she was to your ellie. but you would laugh it off, masking the jealousy with light-hearted jokes, daring not to show how much it truly bothered you.

then, a few weeks later, the worst had happened.

ellie suddenly had a girlfriend, and you suddenly had a broken heart.

you could only be happy for her. even if that meant your phone calls were picked up by another girl, telling you that ellie was busy. even if that meant your texts declined over time, cat memes being sent with only a laughing emoji in response. no genuine, heart-to-heart conversations. the ones you yearned for most on your loneliest nights.

and you had to be happy for ellie. even if she wasn’t for herself.

the worst part is, ellie noticed you begin to pull away, and she let you. she let you go.

now she sits here, on her cheap brown sofa, staring at the tv that has yet to be hooked up. phone in her hand, like an idiot waiting for something that’s not going to happen just because she wishes it would. she simply cannot manifest you to come back. she has to do something about it.

after seconds of contemplation, she curses to herself, grabbing the device and calling your number. which rings, and rings, and rings, up until voicemail. which she decides to leave.

“uh— hey, y/n,” she gets up, scratching the back of her neck, “im…im in jackson…for good,” she chuckles nervously, “if you want to catch up, im free the next couple of days. just let me know…um…bye.”

fucking dumbass, she thinks, ending it and dropping her phone on the couch behind her. the worst you can say is no.

ellie wished that were true.

the worst had happened, and it’s you ignoring her completely. days pass and there’s absolutely nothing from you. she hopes to see you around town, making sure she looks decent enough just to run and pick up groceries, but luck is not on ellie’s side.

a week home and she’s only seeing you in her imagination. flashbacks of the evening she left, a beautiful day before a horrid storm.

ellie is self-aware, she knows it’s pathetic to keep moving in place rather than moving on. pretending like you still care for her as she does to you, even if you have yet to communicate it.

she knows it’s wrong. and she can only mourn the idea of no longer having you for so long.

as told by joel, she should only focus on what she has control of. don’t know when he got the time to read a self-help book, but she listens to him. joel was usually right, she hates it sometimes.

he was the first one to see the sparkle in her eye when she spoke about you. even though she denied what he had thought you two were— he continued to tell her that you’re a good one, and not to screw it up.

she could only laugh about that now.

weeks pass, and her apartment feels more like a home now, unpacked with her little trinkets scattered around the place. the first damn thing she did was stick her glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling of her bedroom because you know, priorities. she likes staring at them before bed, knowing you two used to do it together. homemade star gazing, you’d tell her.

her first few days working with joel at his construction company went well. it’s tiring, she comes home feeling like she went swimming in a bucket of sweat, but it’s a nice distraction. and a nice way to keep her arms toned. the summer sun caused her freckles to multiply over her shoulders and collarbones, something you used to admire.

dina and jesse have been spending time with her, smoking at one of the lakes in jackson while sitting in the back of her red pickup truck. a playlist will play lowly from the vehicle's speakers, a few songs she only learned because of you. songs you had told her reminded you of her. she finds herself humming along, the melodies bringing back memories that carve into the center of her heart.

she came home one night, very high, and saw a stray cat digging into a plastic bag filled with garbage. without thinking twice, she crouched down and called to the cat softly. it rubbed against her, and she fell in love. she threw the garbage out and brought the little creature inside. she now has a black cat named orion. the very first constellation she taught you about amongst the many.

it’s hard, the constant reminders of you in little day-to-day things, but ellie gets passed it.

slowly, but surely, she’s finding herself; without you. it’s healthy. it’s good. she’s good.

it’s a random tuesday night when her phone vibrates while she’s getting off work, the woman pulling it out of her pocket while wiping the grim from her forehead. a message, from you.

would you wanna meet up tomorrow?

her heart beats out of her chest, leaning against the chipping paint on her truck. she can’t help it— she responds right away.

yea, is my place cool?

ellie stares at the screen, tugging at her bottom lip with her teeth, tapping her converse on the cement. when you don’t answer promptly, ellie sends another text.

we can do dinner, i can order a pizza. or a movie if you wanna.

you can probably read her tone through the screen, the desperation. but having you right there at that moment, she doesn’t care. especially when you agree— part of her not expecting you to.

ellie gets in her head, part of her convincing herself it was a date…ish…the humbling part of her telling her it was a casual hangout. it’s a win either way. she could see you for a mere minute and still be satisfied.

ellie went home that night, fed her sweet cat, and passed out on her messy bed.

with you in mind, of course.

the following day is long as fuck. she’s antsy, convincing joel to let her go early, organizing the most random shit in her apartment. you hadn’t even reached out yet, she doesn’t know when you’re gonna bless her with your presence.

she doesn’t know if you still like peppers on your pizza, but she orders it anyway. she doesn’t know if you want a romcom or a horror movie, so she finds options for both. she’s anxious, grabbing a beer from the fridge hoping it eases her somewhat.

ellie glances at her phone for the fiftieth time, worried she might have missed a text. she doesn’t. and as hours pass, she drinks more and more.

you never show up.

the full moon is up in the sky by this point. and once again, like deja vu, there is nothing from you. and it hurts.

her mind is foggy from the alcohol she occupied herself with while waiting for you, half of the untouched pizza is cold as it sits on her counter. her cat is watching her pace back and forth.

why? why would you lie to her? why would you get her hopes up after so long? she’s beyond upset. she’s pissed off. you’ve never made her feel this way.

then you text her.

can’t make it. im sorry

she huffs through her nose, shaking her head, then she calls you. which, you ignore, and you ignore again, and again. she keeps calling, she doesn’t care if she’s annoying you. in fact, she wants to. if that’s what it takes for you to acknowledge her.

it’s the tenth time when she listens to the automated voice speak to her, that she leaves a voicemail.

“hey, y/n, dunno if you remember me,” she laughs, scratching the back of her neck, “seems like you don’t. think im a stranger to you now. might as well be, you clearly don’t want to see me anymore— what the fuck —h-how could you? i-i get it, i messed up— i-i left —but im fucking trying here, y/n. and you have to make this so fucking hard for me.”

her voice is breaking, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, and despite trying to hold them back, she can't stop them from falling. “we were friends…more than friends…y-you fucking kissed me before i left…or did you forget that? d-did that mean nothing to you? why did you do that? i thought about it for months…d-did you?”

ellie’s rage shifts to pain, catching her off guard. she clenches her jaw, struggling to keep her composure, then takes a deep, shaky breath.

“i-i just miss you…i miss you so bad it fucking hurts. i came back because of you, you know that? and i haven’t even seen you— it drives me crazy. im fucking losing my mind here, y/n. all i think about is you. i wish…i wish you felt the same…i don’t know how to get over you. just tell me how to. please— i’ll leave you alone. just tell me to.”

i’ll leave you alone. just tell me to.

ellie’s soft voice cracks, you dread it. many things bother you in this universe. one of them is bearing witness to ellie breaking down and not being able to comfort her.

you were the only one that could— the only one she felt comfortable expressing herself to. except now you are the cause of it. and that is the worst feeling in the world.

you pull your phone away from your ear, turn it off, and place it face down on the table before you. your dinner is still hot and untouched, your partner’s plate mirroring yours. they took a phone call nearly ten minutes ago, an unimportant one, but they valued anything and anyone else before you.

you don’t know why you’re here…why you ditched her for them. someone you love for someone you don’t. someone who needs you for someone who barely wants you.

a place to stay? a body to keep you warm at night? a person to bring home to your family? what’s the point? she’s home. she’s here. and she’s not out of touch, she’s within your grasp, yet you won’t commit to reaching out to her. why?

“mind putting that away for me? friend needs a favor,” your partner quickly says, already out the door before you could even question them or say goodbye.

you’re alone, but you’ve felt lonely in this dim house since the day you came here.

but nothing is keeping you here. you get up, not bothering to clean up the meal you spent an hour making, throwing on a jacket and grabbing your keys.

you drive to ellie’s place. it feels long, catching every red light and driving down roads with the lowest speed limits. you don’t even know if she’ll still be awake by the time you arrive, or if she even wants to see you anymore. but you need to see her.

you lazily park on the street, letting yourself into the building and knocking rapidly on her door. you can hear muffled music playing from inside her unit, then her footsteps.

“i’ll turn it down—” ellie barely opens the door, and doesn’t look at you, not until your hand is on the wood when she attempts to close it.

when she does, her eyes are bloodshot, and she freezes in place.

“can you let me in?”

she hesitates, not because she doesn’t want to, but rather she can’t believe a drunken voicemail had you at her doorstep so damn quick. she obeys, stepping aside, unable to look away from you. you’d do the same, but you’re too distracted by her home.

the fern green color scheme that compliments it, the framed rare trading cards on her shelves, a photo of astronaut cats on her wall that you had gifted her. so many things that made her, her. very nerdy, very adorable, things. and then you look at her, absolutely desolated before you.

“i…i thought…i thought you couldn’t…” she can’t get the sentence out, scanning your face as she tries to speak. you look so so beautiful. she wishes she could forget the things she said to you, and how upset she is with you right now.

“i was worried,” you admit, “you didn’t sound okay.”

“i’m not,” she laughs, walking past you, the smell of cigarette smoke and oak hugging her body. you follow her to the couch, the woman plopping her body on it, looking up at you with doe eyes.

it’s like she’s expecting you to speak first, to address the shitty message she left you. maybe scold her, yell at her, but you don’t. you kneel before her, placing your hands gently on her knees.

“what you said…i don’t…want you out of my life, ellie,” you tell her softly, thumb rubbing the denim of her jeans, “i could never want that.”

“you have a fucking funny way of showing that,” ellie spits, laughing dryly, “i asked for one thing tonight. and you— you only came here out of pity.”

“i wanted to see you.” “no the fuck you didn’t.”

“yes i—” “jesus christ, stop lying to me,” her voice raises slightly hiding her face behind her hands as she squeezes her eyes shut. “i’m not.”

“you are!” she suddenly throws her hands forward, “l-like when you told me you loved me that night, you remember that?”

it’s the same night you kissed her, the very same moment. the one that is very clearly haunting her, as it does you. it was honest, both those three words you’ve felt for her the moment you got attached to her and the kiss you only pulled away from when you were suffocating against her lips.

neither of you wanted it to end, but it did, along with whatever your relationship was. it was killed, and it is utterly haunting you two.

you move your hands to her own, feeling how hot they are against your cold ones. you two always balanced each other out. “i do love you, els.”

”stop,” she mumbles, “please…stop.”

“i’m not lying to you,” you promise, “yea, i-i pushed you away but you moved away, ellie, you have to understand that.”

ellie is silently crying again, shaking her head, repeating the word ‘stop,’ in a hushed tone. “then you found someone, and so did i, and it got so damn complicated,” you continue, “i don’t want it to be…and i do…i do want you.”

“what?”

“i want to go back— to what we had. i want that, els, i want you.”

she stares at you through her wet lashes, afraid to speak, wondering if you mean it. or if this was a pity love confession, or if this was a cruel joke, or if this was real. any other possibility than you genuinely yearning for her the way she did you.

her head feels heavy, it’s too much.

you hold her knuckles, softly rubbing them, shifting on your knees to lean closer to her. “i need you, ellie,” you whisper, she’s heard those words before.

it was you going to a party you were anxious about. it was you watching a horrible movie you’d only tolerate with her beside you. it was you sobbing on your front porch, waiting to see her headlights in the rain. it was her telling you she was leaving this town and you behind. you needed her then, you need her now.

you push yourself forward, a hand on her cheek to dry whatever tears had wet it. she leans into your hand like her cat does when she gives it affection, wanting it to last forever. then, she feels your soft lips on her forehead, ellie sighing at the sensation.

you tell her once more, “i love you.”

it’s too good to be true.

maybe, if the timing was right, it would be real. if she never left you, if you didn’t settle for something you could hardly call a relationship, if you could just let her back in— this bittersweet moment would happen.

but that’s simply not ellie’s or your reality.

your reality is sitting at an empty kitchen table, your dinner cold, listening to her voicemail on repeat, thinking about how you could just change your mind right there and leave. to see her, tell her everything you want to. but you don’t.

you end up going to bed with a heavy heart. your partner comes home, apologizing for leaving you, holding you to sleep, making you feel loved enough that you don’t want to leave that bed.

ellie passes out with a black-and-white movie playing in the background, envisioning you there with her, trying to salvage what you two have left. telling her you love her again, reassuring her that you truly mean it, that you want her. that you two could live the life you yearn for, but you’re not, and she can’t make you.

she will wait for you.

[miruscenic]

𝟎𝟎𝟏. 𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐈𝐍.

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬. kento never thought he would be one for domesticity, until you came.

𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭. nanami kento x gn!reader, soft soft fluff, a bit of angst on kento's part, first writing post on this blog :)) enjoy !!

Kento Nanami has a hard time believing that domesticity was a possibility for him. 

It was his pipe dream ever since he’d chosen to become a sorcerer, despite his aversion to both this job and the soul-breaking desk job. He hates the monotony, and he hates the danger he puts himself in, and he despises the concept of overtime. Because, really, who enjoys working more hours with no increase to the pay? It irks him terribly, but work is work. If he can find stability in the form of money or a career, then it was enough to keep him alive.

It was enough, but it didn’t satisfy him.

He’s come to enjoy some of the mundanely comforting moments during his salaryman days and his gradual return to the Jujutsu world— from the sweet girl manning the counter in his favorite bakery, who knows him well enough that his sandwich is finished being prepared within minutes to the silence he basks in until he inevitably has to stare blearily at his laptop screen during ungodly hours. They were welcome distractions from the emptiness he so often felt, and yet, it still felt like he was going through the motions.

Kento had money, but no means of defining his purpose. His desires of settling down pushed to the backburner, dreams of a golden-eyed child crushed by surrounding deaths and lecherous bosses who saw him as nothing more than a cog of a bigger machine. The only sign of the life he could’ve given himself were the books slowly gathering dust, pictures of the calming beaches of Kuantan a stark contrast to the rigidness of his home.

He didn’t understand how easy it was to let someone in. Someone like you, of all people. More importantly, he didn’t realize just how fearful it made him, now that he’d returned to his life of jujutsu sorcery. 

Looking forward to you was jarring, at first—it took Kento a while to get used to not doing everything alone. Though there wasn’t anything he could complain about being by himself—it was his preferred way of life, in the first place—it did start to feel like this was all he would ever do until the light blonde of his hair turned gray. 

But now, he’s making stops at places he never thought he would visit so casually. He’d made a note to get your lunch from the resto you came to during your first date, snagging your favorite drink from the cafe and almost risking his daily commute on the train. Kento was a man with limitations, but he found himself so pleasantly amused when he ran errands for you. It felt like something he would willingly do rather than come home battered and with a gash in his newly dry-cleaned shirt. 

But even that was a part of his life that you gradually took over. Frequent dates turned into visits to each other’s home, then those sporadic visits turned into sleepovers, often falling into a deep slumber after indulging yourselves in meaningful heart-to-hearts. That would soon culminate into calm knocks on your door one night only to reveal Kento practically limping and his side mangled. 

He felt a lump in his throat then, at the look of horror on your usually pleasant face, but he knew he felt like tearing up when you’d been so gentle with his wounds, inquiring him about what went wrong. It didn’t feel correct to answer your question; what happened to him was out of your awareness, the dangers of his job was a secret until it wasn’t. How was he supposed to explain that a humanoid manifestation of humanity’s hatred for each other—a rather ugly one, to be certain—was very close to ending his life, and how incredibly lucky he was to even manage to limp back to you?

Never mind the hatred simmering in Kento’s chest, not when he was too caught off guard by your generosity to even air out his grievances. All that mattered was that he still had you, time to get to know and love you better. He knew he wouldn’t be able to rest easy knowing he’s left you confused and grieving. 

“Just so you know, I wouldn’t have a problem with crawling back to you if I was more injured than this.” He’d murmured once you were close enough to feel his breath fan against your chin. To this day, Kento isn’t sure what prompted him to be so sentimental, all he knew was that he had all the right reasons to lean in and leave a light peck on your lips right after.

Nothing could’ve really prepared him for the following morning, after a night of endless persistence that he could take the latest train back home. 

Kento was more used to bringing his own things when you ask him to stay over, but waking up in the foreign but cozy texture of one of your shirts and a pair of faded sweatpants wasn’t something to complain about. He’d felt his heartbeat spike at the thought of running late to work, but the slight dimness of the room suggested that he’d woken up a bit after dawn broke. 

The firmness of the bandages around his torso paired with the mild soreness of his wounds weren’t exactly the most comfortable, but Kento had managed to pull himself out of his sleeping situation groggily, pushing the door open. He was starting to wonder where you’d gone, despite his prior knowledge of your own early bird tendencies. It instantly warmed his heart to see you bathed in brighter morning light, quietly watching the coffee maker. In his peripherals, he could see his formerly bloodied suit neatly folded on the couch.

At this point, it wasn’t uncommon for the both of you to start your mornings steadily, though there was something different about this particular one. Stillness fell upon your home, with neither of you showing signs of hurrying just yet.The only audible sounds were the whirs of the coffee maker, followed by Kento beelining towards your direction. You looked lovely, with your head perched on your arms, bent down to be at eye level with the machine.

Kento could only huff out an amused sigh, letting one of his hands rest upon your shoulder as an indicator that he was finally awake. Instead of the usual shock that graced your features, it felt as though you were indulging in the light touch. Slowly but surely, you’re leaning back up to rest your back against his chest, your smaller hand wrapping around his that was still perched on your shoulder. 

The weight was so, so comforting, especially when you’d leaned your head against his shoulder, a toothy smile on your lips. Kento thinks you look rather adorable upside-down, he couldn’t help but leave another affectionate kiss on your forehead when you’d whispered, “Good morning, Ken.”

Now the man was completely left unguarded, with a lovely little thing resting against him and the sunlight softly filtering in through the windows. He doesn’t dare pull away, only brings you to face him instead so you’re more comfortable. Perhaps this was growth—he wasn’t irked by the prospect of slowing down with a companion anymore, despite the deep-seated fear of having so much to lose. 

But he could get used to this. A time when he could just bask in his more human side without worrying about work or death, a time when he could just let himself be without the need to explain himself. Because you understood him, you were willing to understand him from the very beginning. All this was possible, because he believed that something good would come out of letting someone like you in.

Kento decides that he likes this sensation and, for once, he would like for it to stay.  

I’m quite good at being domestic and romantic, don’t you think, darling? 

brought to you by MIRUSCENIC © 2025. all rights reserved.

[madwomansapologist]

So I saw you were asking for kyojuro requests,

what about Kyo coming home from THAT mission alive to Gn reader who hasn’t slept for days, worried that he would die like in the movie( maybe they had a nightmare of those scenes?) and that then tooth rotting fluff ensues of kyo comforting reader with hugs and snuggles and wraps them up in his haori?

one of these nights | kyojuro rengoku x hashira!reader

waiting. you fought, protected, killed, saved. for days on end, you contined with your duties as a hashira. but all it takes is one look at you to see the truth underneath it: you were waiting for him. waiting for kyojuro to come back to you. to come back at all.

cw: canon level of violence. conversations about death. demon being tortured. reader is filled with rage and violent intent. angst to fluff. happy ending. inspired by one of these nights by red velvet.

an: thanks for your request! really i just needed an excuse to write about him. kyo is such a sunshine ray, it hurts me to know he received the nanami treatment (guess i have a type). i even made a playlist for him.

Blood burned away from your lilac nichirin. Surrounded by darkness and ashes, you gazed at the head throwing offenses at you. You grabbed it by the hair, walking back to the sleeping village.

"I dreamed of him hours ago", you ignored all the whining. "He was bleeding. A hand deep into his chest, one of his eye long gone, his sword broken in two. Can you picture someone smiling in such a moment?"

"You stupid bitch! It was mine! That girl was mine! She would give me the strenght of twenty, no, fifty humans, and you took her from me! You gonna burn! You gonna die screaming and crying and begging..."

"I can", you answered your own question. "He won't die carrying grudges and regrets, no one will forget how my Kyo is sweet. Not the ones he saved, trained or had the chance of being changed by him. He deserves that. To be remembered."

Some lovers would tell you to have more faith. Hope. To accept that justice will prevail and goodness always is rewarded. Some would judge. How can you not trust Kyojuro to come back to you? How can you talk about his death? How can you love him when you act like that?

And for them, you asnwer would be: I am jealous of you. Jealous of how some have the privilege believing that poetic justice exist. Jealous of those that never noticed how easy it is to die. Jealous of the fearless.

Tonight, all you know is that you feel something wrong is about to happen. Something wrong, cruel and unnecessary. It's one of these nights you despise.

"He would've grant you a peaceful death, weak demon", you caressed his cheek. "Kyojuro would give you what he deserves, believing it must be the standart."

With a swift motion, your nail cut through his left eye. "Once he's dead, I'll turn my grief into torment and pain for your kind", one pull, and the gelatinous pieces fell on the ground. "I'll make demons dream about a world Kyojuro Rengoku survived."

Your tsuguko reached you as your fingers ripped the demon's lips appart. The wisteria you apply daily to your sharp nails was enough to make him to beg. You dropped the head on the floor.

Hands trembling, eyes wide open. You scared him. Another tsuguko that will runnaway from you. At least he lasted more than the others. "Report", you demanded.

"I attended her wounds", he started, voice oscilating. Not a man yet, not a boy anymore. He's growing stronger, faster than anyone should need to. "She insisted on cooking you dinner, Hashira."

He wasn't afraid of you. Of what he saw you doing to that demon. You chose him as your tsuguko because of how similar to you he is. He fight to protect, but he survives to punish. "Why are you so startled?"

"I saw his crow, Hashira."

Your tsuguko ran back to your mansion. The last part of his daily routine. You walked, so far behind you couldn't even see him. A distance you could cross in the blink of an eye turned into minutes of silence.

You're not ready to hear it. Not now. It's too soon. To live as a slayer is to be aware of how easily the balance between life and death can change. But Kyojuro deserves better than that.

Kyojuro deserves all the sunrises and sunsets this world can offer. He deserves sweet treats, salty soups, succulent meats. He deserves to see his father change, his brother grow, this country heals. Kyojuro deserves more than you could ever give him.

At least, if you're about to hear the news from his crow, that means you won't be the one to tell Senjuro. Cry now, you thought to yourself. Do it now so you won't do it in front of the kid.

Blinded by heavy tears, you followed the blur lights surrounding your mansion. Sanemi would've mocked your for acting so vulnerable at night. A newborn demon could end you now, and you wouldn't notice until their fangs were deep on your skin.

How didn't you noticed? If a crow was to warn you about his death, it would've fly straight to you. It wouldn't be his crow. And the path wouldn't smell like blood and sweat.

How didn't you heard as he gasped? How didn't you felt the air changing as he stormed towards you? How didn't you knew he would come back home? Come back to you.

"Why are you crying, my jewel?" Kyojuro evicted the silence following you home. His powerful voice ecchoed throught the night. His scarred hands held your face, fingers cleaning the tears. Softly, he made you look up. "Who made you cry? Tell me and I shall punish them!"

As your tears dried, you reached for him. Trembling hands raised, stopping right before you could feel his skin. Was it a dream? Did your fears came true and you finally went insane? "Kyo..."

He was there. Right in front of you. You could feel him. The scars on his hand. The warmth of his breath. The sweet aroma of orange coming from his hair. You could feel his fire. That bright soul only Kyojuro has.

And he was hurt. Wounds across his face. Blood dripping from his shoulder. He was in pain. He never went back to you like that. Looking so fragile. So vulnerable.

Your Kyojuro, your sweet Kyojuro, was hurt. More than you could ever imagine. And still, he managed to come back to you.

"You're back", you whispered. Your head was so light, no thoughts could manage to distract you from his burning eyes. "I thought... I-I had a nightmare. And the crow..."

Kyojuro sighed. His hold tighten, forehead falling into yours. Embraced by him, the rest of the world be damned. You couldn't care less about this wretched floating rock.

"Forgive me, flame of my heart", he whispered. Kyojuro whispered. That made you hold your breath, afraid of this being a product of your tired mind. "I promised to never make you cry."

You closed your eyes, hands on his broad shoulders. "I will always forgive you", you bit back the tears. "As long as you keep coming back to me."

"It was an Upper Moon."

You stumbled back. Kyojuro grabbed you, his fingers deep into the skin of your hips, haori floating between you two. "You survived a Upper Moon."

"No", Kyojuro smiled. "I killed one."

You laughed. Loudly. Until your cheek burned. You grabbed his face, pulling Kyojuro into the longest kiss you ever shared. You couldn't let him go. You would never let him go.

How you love being wrong.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

general taglist: @lovelyy-moonlight

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

[devildomwriter]

A Step in the Future | Simeon x Reader

.9K | GN! Reader | CW: children, domestic

Simeon groaned and rubbed his forehead from which a large bump protruded.

“What…happened?” He asked himself quietly as he sat up and looked around.

He immediately ascertained this wasn’t the Devildom. He lay in a field of bright green grass, neatly cut, in the shade of a willow tree. The sun shone down behind scattered fluffy clouds and birds sang above his head.

Was he in the Celestial Realm? He got to his feet and put his hands on his hips as he looked around before deciding to head down a stone path.

In the distance he heard the laughter of children, it always brought a smile to his face and he sighed happily, sure he was somewhere safe.

As he trailed along the stone path by tall rose bushes and small bird baths he came to an open field of bright flowers. Among them was a boy dressed in fine clothes, smiling brightly as he picked the flowers and gathered them in a woven basket.

Simeon approached the boy cautiously, not wanting to alarm him but the boy was startled anyway. His shock faded and he beamed, dropping his basket and flowers and running to Simeon to embrace him in a hug.

“Father!” He exclaimed and Simeon froze in place, now considerably more confused than before.

“Oh—“ was all Simeon could exclaim. The boy parted from him and smiled again, he ran back to the flowers and brought the basket to Simeon.

“Dad, I got these for you.” He said sweetly.

Regardless of his confusion, Simeon smiled at the boy and patted his head as he accepted the flowers. He crouched down to meet the boy’s level and smiled.

“Thank you very much. I can tell you picked these with great care.” Simeon’s words were not a lie. Among all the flowers in the field, the boy brought the ones Simeon found most appealing.

“Does mom know you’re home yet?” He asked and Simeon shook his head.

“I don’t believe they do,” he replied truthfully.

Who was his mother? If he were the father, Simeon had only one person come to mind. You. He blushed as he imagined you as the mother to his children. Perhaps this was the Celestial Realm, his Father had granted him the opportunity to be with you in a grand dream.

The boy gripped Simeon’s hand, laughing, and pulled him through a beautiful garden to a circle of trees with a polished table in the middle, blocking the direct sun with the shade of the trees.

That’s when he saw you and his heart fluttered. In your nicest attire, you sat at the table watching another child color as you held an infant in your arms.

You smiled excitedly at your husband’s early return and the girl at the table jumped down and ran to Simeon, hugging his leg and waving her drawing in the air.

“Daddy! Daddy, I drew you! Look! Isn’t it good? Look!”

You chuckled and carefully got up, holding the baby in your arms.

Simeon approached you quickly and held out his arms to cradle the child, wrapped in light white cloth so they didn’t get too warm.

Simeon looked into the sleepy child’s eyes and saw his own. He smiled and you gently hugged his side as your daughter ran back to the table to keep drawing.

“Mary’s been drawing all day, that’s all she wants to do,” you sighed and Simeon smiled but never spoke as he listened attentively.

“Simon’s been picking flowers for an hour, Raphael and Luke are watching the twins, and I’ve been trying to get John to sleep for a few hours now.”

The baby, whom Simeon presumed was John, yawned and shifted in his arms, eyes fluttering closed.

“Of course, he was just waiting for you. He’s such a daddy’s boy.” You teased.

Simeon chuckled, the joy he felt in this moment was insurmountable. As the light breeze blew his bangs across his eyes, Simeon felt a shiver throughout his whole body and handed John back to you.

You gave him a concerned look but your worry dissipated as he leaned in and gently kissed your forehead.

He gave you a gentle smile and looked behind you.

You turned around to see Michael. “Oh, hello Michael, it’s been some time,” you remarked and he nodded but looked past you at Simeon.

Your brows furrowed concerned Simeon got himself into some mischief again. For an angel, he certainly caused his higher-ups a lot of headaches.

Simeon nodded back to Michael and disappeared before your eyes.

“Daddy?” Mary gasped and dropped her crayons.

“Mama?” Simon asked and gripped your shirt, confused.

You gave an equally confused look to Michael who briefly explained, “That wasn’t your Simeon. Don’t worry you’ll see him again soon.”

“Not…my Simeon?” You asked, nervous.

Michael shook his head and smiled at you, “He seems to have stepped out of time briefly, but we’ve sent him back to your past self.”

You had a moment of recollection and realized today’s date.

You raised a brow and looked at a pleased Michael, “Michael…was that Simeon from eleven years ago?”

Michael chuckled and nodded. You laughed to yourself and looked at Simon who had just unknowingly picked the bouquet Simeon would give you on the date he’d propose.

You patted your son’s head and kissed his cheek. He looked surprised but gave you a tight hug and laugh.

Time was strange like that. You’d planted the flowers Simeon gave you on your date as a reminder of that day, only for those flowers to be the ones you’d been given. It was hard to wrap your head around so you didn’t think about it for long. Instead, you waited in the garden until Simeon came home.

[deadhands69]

A New End: Reassurance

Tomura Shigaraki x Reader

Spoilers: Shie Hassaikai Raid (some divergence from canon) This series contains: gn/afab reader, angst, canon typical violence, cussing, eventual smut

previous - this is part 4 - next

[series masterlist]

|\/\/\| reassurance |/\/\/|

Hours.

It's been hours since you sat in this dingy open dining/living room which is now serving as a meeting space and there's no end in sight. The peeling finish on the table chips off easily under your fingernails as you try to maintain any ability to pay attention. It’s hard when you’re all so tired. You especially.

Between grief, bad sleeping conditions, and constant overwhelming dreams you haven’t had much rest lately. The wind blowing through the cracks between the boarded up window pane whistled into your ear all night. When you finally did fall asleep, your dreams were nauseatingly realistic. A little girl with big red eyes and long grey hair has haunted your dreams. Much like the plague doctor from before, but a lot cuter and less malevolent. She looks remarkably familiar too. You made a mental note to ask Shigaraki if he has a little sister, but there hasn’t been a right time to ask yet. 

“Who else has something?” Shigaraki asks but no one answers. You've all given your ideas on how to handle the Shie Hassaikai situation but it's no use: none of your plans are perfect. They can't be, you have almost no information to go on without someone contacting them for more. Even then, they might be lying. 

You glance back at Shigaraki’s face. The exhaustion has settled itself deeply into all of his features. He looks frustrated too, but there's something else under it. In the months you've spent with the league, you've never seen him quite like this. His posture is always bad, but today he's practically melting into the chair. Eyes downcast, barely looking up for anything. It's like a tiny streak of hopelessness cracked through him when his sensei was defeated and only grew with the following events. 

Magne’s death. Compresses arm. The fact that this week you've switched from sleeping in a cold damp warehouse to an abandoned house on the border of the industrial area, which is also cold and damp all the time. Shigaraki isn't oblivious to the toll this puts on you all, both physically and mentally.

He carries the guilt of all of it while still needing to make the final call on bigger decisions. 

Some days it hits harder than others, today happens to be one of those days. This didn't need to be a meeting-worthy topic, but he made it that way in what you can only assume is stress about making the wrong choice again.

Through it all, he still has the same weird charm you've gotten to know by now. You just wish you could do something to help. 

His face falls at the lack of response. One of his hands scratches the side of his face while the other fidgets in his lap. Everything in you wants to touch him, hold him, tell him it's okay but when your hand reaches towards his wrist under the table you stop short. Fingers shaking, you will yourself to make contact. Give him a reassuring squeeze. Anything, really. 

His skin is so close to yours that you can feel the warmth of him but you can't bring yourself to make the move. Your quirk doesn't even activate; even future vision knows you don't have it in you. 

“Let's just take a break and come back to it,” he grumbles. There's a collective groan, you've taken a few breaks today and everyone wants to just be done with it already. There can't possibly be any more reasonable ideas than what you've already gone over. None that any of you would suggest, at least.

The others stand to leave and Shigaraki shuffles out to the hallway behind them. You stand slowly, pulling your hand from where it's been frozen under the table. 

‘I-” he mumbles under his breath, gesturing you into the hall. “I need your help.”

Quietly, he explains his plan to you. It’s basically the same plan everyone else had but with him actually going to their headquarters which felt like too big of an ask for anyone but him to bring it up. 

Even if he’s only coming to you in desperation after countless mistakes that could have prevented if he listened earlier, some part of you is giddy that he's finally directly including you in the planning process. You try your best to suppress the feeling so you can pay attention but it's difficult. In the end, your quirk kicks in. Visions of him coming home complaining surround you. He looks so grouchy that it's almost funny. You stifle a laugh to answer him.

“Yeah, that should be okay. We don't know what they have planned so we can't make any promises yet, but you'll at least be safe to meet with him. We can't make any decisions until then.” You leave out the part where he comes back unhappy, you'd rather not live through it twice. 

Shigaraki nods slightly in acknowledgement then turns away without saying a word, which you're used to by now. 

“Hey, Mimic? It's Shigaraki,” he projects louder into the phone. You hear his voice trail off as he walks down the hall, “we're willing to side with you depending on the conditions…”

A week passes and he's gone to meet them at their headquarters. The others are on edge, but you feel fine about it. So far, he hasn't strayed from whatever he was going to do since your last premonition so you know he'll return safely. 

At least, you’re pretty sure.

Out of everyone in the group, your visions of Shigaraki have become a pretty consistent occurrence. Even your quirk couldn’t have called your less than sociable boss being the person you become closest with, but you can’t help it. Especially not after he basically told you he wishes he could have a different life with you. Although, you’re still not sure if you’re interpreting that correctly - he could just mean it in a platonic sense. In any case, one sentence seems to have given the part of your brain that likes to stare at him when he’s not looking and gets butterflies when he so much as acknowledges you enough validation to keep it up. 

The heater kicks in for the first time today, you curl up near the vent with Toga to make the most of it before any warmth escapes through the broken windows. At least this hideout has electricity, even if you do have to conserve it to not draw attention.

The two of you joke about the place, talking about the dated furniture and curtains. Coming up with ideas to make it more ridiculous or sometimes just habitable, depending on the day. Once you even followed through and tried to move some of the construction debris from the room, but when the looming threat of tetanus became too realistic, you stopped. In any case, talking about it is a fun escape from the life you’re living.

Shigaraki’s footsteps pound up the stairs until he’s at the door. You hear him struggle to get the jammed handle to work for a moment before jumping up and helping so he doesn’t decay it.

As expected, he's in a mood. 

“Why didn't you warn me about that?” he groans, passing you at the door and moving into the kitchen. It's a small space so it only takes you a few steps to follow him. 

“It doesn't work that way,” you say, while he fills a cracked glass with water. “How would I have known what happens if you don't tell me things? I just saw that you made it home in one piece.” Sure you could have told him more, but you didn't know what the future would turn to if he knew and getting him back safely seems like the best scenario you have.

“So, what happened?” you pry a bit further. 

“I don't want to talk about it now,” he mutters, refilling the water glass.

“That's fine. I won't make you. But, if you want to know more next time, you'll have to communicate better than that.”

He makes a weird face and leaves, but the information seems to sink in. Over the next week, he’s much more open with you. Not only about league plans, like when he asked you to okay sending Toga and Twice to the Yakuza for a bit, but random life occurrences as well. It’s like he isn’t sure where the line between relevant and not is so he’s overcompensating. You don’t mind though, it gives you an excuse to talk to him more often.

Shigaraki stands at the counter, staring at the coffee maker. Every few minutes, he gives it a bump as if that will speed the process somehow. It’s an otherwise quiet morning, with Toga and Twice being away, Dabi off recruiting somewhere, and Kurogiri on a mission of his own.

“Is it supposed to take this long?” he asks. Because you knew where the filter, water, and coffee grounds go he now assumes you are the resident expert in the subject.

“Yeah, that’s how long it always takes.”

“Oh,” he replies shortly before taking a seat in one of the rickety chairs next to you.

“I think I’m going to shower today,” he says definitively. It takes a surprising amount of self-restraint to not ask if he needs help with that. You know you could play it off as a joke when he says no but knowing him, he’d take it as an insult and assume you don’t think he can bathe on his own.

“...is that okay?” he asks, making you realize he’s doing the oversharing-to-see-if- it-triggers-your-quirk thing again. 

“Yeah,” you nearly laugh, “it should be fine. No one will have any issues with you showering.” For a moment, you let your mind slip back to the thought of it. Being in a cramped space with him, the way the water would trickle down his neck to places you’ve never seen. The water pressure here is shit and the hot water heater only provides a good ten minutes of warmth if you’re lucky, but the thought still amuses you.

He eyes you suspiciously, searching for whatever he knows you aren’t saying. You’ve never been so glad his quirk isn't mind reading.

Later that day, Toga texts to let you know that the heroes have arrived on some sort of mission at the Shie Hassaiki headquarters. There are a lot of them, she says, but that should work out in their favor. Their current plans are to ride the wave of chaos and see what they can make it out with. No warning signals go off for you so you text her to go for it and you’ll keep in touch. 

Of course, this is the moment Shigaraki chose to take a shower so you yell the gist of it through the door at him. He gets frustrated at the muffled sounds, poking his still sudsy (and very annoyed) head out the door and having you give him the rest of the details before disappearing again. The sound of the shower resumes and you head back to your makeshift bedroom space.

Settling onto your sleeping mat, you sit back to enjoy the faint display of premonitions from the constant changes in direction and plans Toga and Twice are going through. It’s almost like watching a movie. Then you see her, but only for a flash. The little girl from your dream walking up the stairs and into the hideout.

Wait, go back! Your hands smash into the keyboard as fast as you can type.

The girl was there. Wherever you were about to go. 

There’s no response, but you know they saw your message because soon enough she’s back in your vision again, this time more opaque. 

It’s radio silence on their end for a while, without any change in the future. Waiting like this has always been stressful but now, at least people listen to you. You just have to trust that they’ll keep on the same track and make it out. A little while later, the texts come flooding in.

We have the little girl and Chisaki is in custody

They’re preparing him to be moved soon

Success!

It was a disaster!

Twice clearly got ahold of Toga’s phone, but you're glad for the update. You jump up to relay the message to the others who are waiting for the next steps.

Upon entering the living room, you find Shigaraki making Compress, Spinner, and Dabi compete in a Mariocart Tournament to see who’s driving later. A few days ago, they’d stolen the keys to a truck from one of the nearby warehouses for the occasion. You’re not sure how Mariocart makes someone qualified to drive but that doesn’t seem to matter to the rest of them. Given that Dabi seems more interested in the ceiling tiles and Compress has managed to get Princess Peach stuck in every corner in the course, it's pretty easy to guess who is going to win. 

You offer to drive, having an actual driver’s license, but Shigaraki declines, stating that your quirk won't fit this mission if anything goes wrong. Of course you fight him on that, knowing that your quirk is a better fit for being on the front lines than he gives you credit for but he won't budge.

So, you stay. 

“Don't pout,” he growls, laying with his feet over the armrest of a recliner across the room from you. “Your quirk is too important for me to put you in unnecessary danger. We can handle it.”

“What, and ours aren't?” Dabi glares at him from the floor in front of the couch. He's still not paying attention to the game. 

“It's different. Your quirk is important for lighting cops on fire.”

Dabi's mouth has been cracked from the moment he dropped the question, ready to fire off an insult. He seems sufficiently happy with the response though so he drops it. As expected, Spinner pulls Waluigi across the finish line and wins by a long shot. 

“Time to go,” says Shigaraki, ushering everyone out of the room, “Toga will call with an update and we can intercept Chisaki there.” Spinner looks on the fence about the whole idea but Dabi and Compress are excited, both immediately jumping into the truck. 

Shigaraki hangs back for a moment, looking questioningly in your direction. The way his eyes meet yours send flutters through your body. He can sense there’s something he’s supposed to do here, some missing interaction with you before he leaves.

“It’ll be fine,” you reassure him, “this will work.” Without noticing, your hands found their way around his wrists. He glances down at the touch, but doesn’t move to pull away. You feel his pulse quicken against the pads of your fingers, as he looks up back up at your face. 

“Come on, we’ve gotta go!” yells Spinner from the driver’s seat.

“I-” he hesitates, “I’ll keep you updated.” He slips out of your grasp, climbing up to the roof of the truck as Spinner lurches down the street and out of sight.

The group texts you with updates here and there, mostly Shigaraki. 

getting close

we see the truck

going in

And, finally, it’s done.

You breathe a massive sigh of relief when they’ve picked up Twice, Toga, and the little girl who you now know as Eri and are on their way back. Everything went to plan, for the most part, without anyone making any catastrophic changes. Dropping onto the outdated couch, you let yourself sink into the cushions. Closing your eyes to rest. 

Within the hour, everyone is piling in through the front door and celebrating. You’re not sure where the food and drinks came from but you’re almost certain Compress had something to do with it. You join them, happy to eat real food and feed off the excitement of the room. Eri is settled into the same bedroom space as Toga, she seems relieved to be here which makes you a little sad. Twice made her a bed and other basic necessities but it’s still a boarded up, musty old house with a bunch of strangers. Compress and Dabi are taking shots together and laughing about something that happened earlier. You talked to Spinner for a while before Eri came in, now he’s teaching her to play Animal Crossing on his switch. It's cute. Shigaraki is nowhere to be seen, you hope he isn’t avoiding you after earlier. 

As if you’d summoned him with your thoughts alone, he texts you.

meet me at the building two doors down 

you know the one

Curiously, you grab your jacket and slip out the door. No one notices, they’re all too busy cheering on Eri as she catches her first fish. 

The late-September air hits your face, feeling almost refreshing. It’s been over a week since you’ve had a chance to explore the surrounding buildings, most of your free time has been eaten up by league planning. It’ll be nice to get out for a bit, even if your heart is nearly pounding out of your chest at the thought of whatever you’re walking into. You really hope this is a fun lets-get-out-of-the-house type evening and not a don’t-ever-touch-me-again conversation but it’s been a long day already and your quirk is down to a mere flicker. 

Passing through the door and down a corridor you found last week, you see Shigaraki’s dusty blue hair glow in the moonlight. He’s standing near a wall in what used to be the main room of the old warehouse, surrounded by broken concrete and bent rebar from the collapsed roof. With only the full moon to illuminate the space, you tiptoe through the path the two of you previously forged until you’re standing right in front of him. The light hits his features softly. For the first time in a long time, he doesn’t look upset.

“I thought this would be a better celebration,” he says, fingernails digging into his neck. Stepping forward, you pull his hand away. Your grip on his wrist lingers. Even in the dim lighting, you can see his cheeks turning pink. His eyes meet yours before his gaze flicks down to your mouth and back up.  

A dizzying amount of visions surround you, but you pay them no mind as your lips crash into his. To your surprise, he kisses you back with even more passion. Pressing his rough lips into yours like he’s never wanted anything more in his life. You drop his wrist, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and sliding your fingers into his hair. He sighs into your touch. His hands wrap around you, a few fingers carefully peeled back. Turning slightly, he presses you back into the wall, hands sliding to the concrete behind you as you feel the weight of him against your chest. Giving his hair a gentle tug, your tongue meets his as he gasps. He returns the movement, his soft tongue a fun contrast from his chapped lips.

With every breath, the smell of him fills your lungs. He smells faintly of the cheap soap you’ve all been sharing at the hideout and a subtle scent between autumn leaves and rain that’s reminiscent of his quirk. Everything about him surrounds you and nothing else matters. 

Time stands still while the two of you spend the rest of the evening intertwined in the wreckage.

next chapter - a new end masterlist - bnha masterlist

Taglist: @tomuratoucher @aryuunachigiri @shigarakislaughter @foxyboy0

[edgepunk]

I've had this weird idea about a Fallout TV show named "Tales of the Mojave" - an anthology series following the lives of the residents of the Mojave. At the beginning of the each episode, we follow a faceless figure wandering through the Mojave, they deliver mail to the person the story is about. It could be a simple farmer or a Khan or an NCR Ranger. They vary from action-packed episodes to more mundane ones where regular people are trying to survive the unforgiving wastes and avoid radiation while trying to keep their family fed. I, personally, wouldn't make all of them too depressing. They would usually end on a bittersweet note about humanity surviving and kindness still remaining in people's hearts despite the circumstances.

In the last few minutes of the final episode, we go back to the faceless figure that is confronted by a man in a checkered suit, shooting them in the head. Twice.

[cosmic-evening]

ᯓ★ somebody else in mind

cheating!dabi x gn!reader

angst no comfort.

based on second best by laufey

mha m.list | gen m.list

"i love you."

you watch dabi as he pulls off his headphones. "what did you say?"

"oh, nothing. just... i love you," you repeat, a little unsure of yourself.

"oh." dabi smirks. "you too, doll."

he kisses you, roughly, how he likes it, then leaves you in your shared room.

you walk hand-in-hand with dabi as you make your way to the league's hide-out. you're not talking, but it seems to affect you more than it does him.

if i drop his hand, would he come back for it?

you shake your head. but the doubt wouldn't leave you, so you do.

you drop his hand.

you hope, just for a second, that he'll come back for it. laugh and say "you dropped something, doll."

he doesn't.

that night, you lie awake, watching dabi's chest rise and fall as he slept.

what is he dreaming of?

the wind howls outside, and you bury yourself deeper into the blankets. you try to distract yourself with memories of you and dabi.

but all you can think about is the way he kissed you half-heartedly. the way he dropped your hand. the way he walked away, not even noticing it happened.

you don't sleep that night.

you don't put the pieces together until keigo shows you the photos.

tears fill your eyes as you stare at keigo's phone, wishing you could erase the photo from your mind.

dabi had been cheating.

it was undeniable. the girl he was kissing was so pretty, blonde hair, tan skin. it made you sick to your stomach.

"how long?" you could barely whisper.

"eight months," keigo replied sadly.

eight months. you'd only been together for six.

you put the phone down, and pack your bags. you don't tell dabi you're leaving.

when he finds out, he doesn't even call.

weeks go by, and you find yourself a lot happier. he never gave you anything, so what was there to miss?

but sometimes, in the dead of the night, you wonder if there's a chance he would ever take you back. you hope one day, you'll be able to leave this behind. but for now, you knew you were still in love with him.

because he was your everything.

but you were just his second best.

[vmp3ater]

Furina is love- Furina is lifeee

what if…after the fontain quest- since furina’s “transformed” into a human and isn’t a puppet/doll anymore, reader fulfills their dream to fuck and fill her SILLYYYY 😋😋

go wild bae- just want sum more sub furina crumbs 🥴🙏🙏🙏

furina x gn! reader

warnings. dom! reader, sub! furina, fingering, dumbification, 4.2 aq spoilers, reader is implied to have a cock/strap. written by a minor.

notes. holy shit anon the ideas i got for that prompt…

if you said that you never dreamt about the former hydro archon whining and squirming under you, then you’d be lying. but she, as your partner, doesn’t mind the things you’re doing to her. she enjoys it.

you have furina lying on her back, thighs trembling like a leaf as you move your index and middle fingers in and out of her cunt. you feel your cheeks heat up when you feel her cunt flutter around you, squirming and arching her back off of the mattress as her short white hair sprawls all over the pillow. she truly deserved this—especially after what happened back in court.

“such a pretty girl you are, hm?” you whispered down to her, running your free hand along her waist as she grinds back down onto you. furina only lets whimpers dribble out of her slightly parted lips at your words, and you didn’t make things any better when your fingers sped up inside her, grazing her sweet spot and making her moans louder

“aww, did i fuck you dumb already?” you mused, but furina didn’t answer you. if the way she was grinding down against your hand and moaning out your name with every drag of your fingers, it was that you had done so. a smirk paints across your face as your dirty words fill her ears. “don’t get too tired yet, i’ve got something better to fuck you with.”

furina winces out at your words in pure excitement, and it’ll only make her adrenaline rush more, she squirms and chants out your name like a prayer as her orgasm approaches her, and you let your thumb graze her clit to stimulate her further, and it only made her sounds shift in pitch.

when she cums, her thighs tremble and she arches off of the bed as she releases all over you. you can't help that smirk that paints across your face at her current state; her knuckles turning white when she grips at the pillow, her head turned to the side as she trembles under you… it was all a sight to behold.

when you ride her out of her orgasm, her pretty, raspy pants are all you can hear, and you smirk above her. your low, teasing voice fills her ears as she gets snapped back into reality, curious about what you’ll do to her next.

“don’t get tired yet, princess. we have the whole night to ourselves.”

[squiddy-god]

Gonna start this by saying I love lads and that I WILL continue to write more for it and take request but-

Lads is genuinely like the only fandom I'm like legitimately on the fence about writing for, because I write gn readers and that Carries to how I'd write a gn mc and especially because I write alot of male readers and hence would love to write male mc for the like... 6 guys out there who play lads...

But like the lads fandom can literally be so fucking hateful like- I'm sorry but it's a game, and also I get as an otome game it is obviously catered twords straight women, and likely will never get a male mc option but like that is not an excuse to hate?

Like men and nb folks play this game too lmao?

And people always go on and on about how people should just find a different game but like???

A) someone shouldn't have to find a different game just cause you personally have an issue

B) WHAT GAMES??? GENUINELY BE SO FR

I cannot stress enough how there is not a substitute. Like lads has such incredible and high quality game play and story telling, it's balanced, the gatcha system isn't actually trash (love obey me but come on) and the character customisation is just a++++

There isn't a game like that even for straight men but much less as a gay/bi guy. Like the best you are getting is a visual novel but I cannot customise that yk?

Genuinely it would take away literally nothing from the game. It wouldn't make the game any less "for you" genuinely.

And like I know it probably 99.99% won't happen but like a man can dream!!!

Like I really don't get it. And I haven't seen a single good argument because they all boil down to "it's a girls game/catered twords girls" and like ok? This wouldn't take anything away from that??? Genuinely.

But frankly whether you agree or disagree, or hope or not, is it really necessary to be hateful about it?? Like to the point it starts to become genuinely crossing into bigotry, homophobia, and transphobia territory??

Feel like this post will have me on public evacuation notice but- hopefully it's just brain dead tiktok spaces but I'm so tired man.

I'm tired because this is literally nothing new. Men and nd people have always played otome games and similar games and just subbed in the pronouns, they have always done the same with fandom and you know what? They always will. There is nothing wrong with that and there is no reason to make spaces so hostile.

[reysdriver]

Can I ask a Steve Harrington x shy!reader where she has a locket that represents him (like the initial SH) and she always wears it but under her shirt so that no one can see? One day, Steve comes home to find her asleep, he smiles and leans to kiss her but then finds out her little secret. Just fluff:)

steve finds a sweet surprise when sneaking into your bedroom to see you — steve x gn!reader fluff

warnings: none:)

words: 1.1k

a/n: this was supposed to be a little tiny blurb idk what happened lmao but I hope you like it!

Steve was supposed to be there at 11 o’clock sharp. 

He had promised you that as soon as the arcade closed and all the boys were dropped off at home, he’d be sneaking up into your room without a sound. ‘Like a ninja’ were his exact words; and maybe it was your fault for assuming ninjas were punctual. 

You had given him a little grace period, maybe twenty minutes where he could come and you wouldn’t be upset with him. An hour after that ended, you decided you weren’t even going to wait anymore. If Steve was willing to wait that long to see you, he could wait even longer. 

You decided to change into a pair of pyjamas instead of staying in your normal clothes all night and then get ready for bed. After turning out your lights and closing your curtains, you tucked yourself in and quickly fell asleep. 

Unluckily, Steve had arrived just a few minutes after you dozed off. He cursed himself quietly when he saw your curtains drawn—already knowing you’d be pissed at him for being late—then tumbled over your windowsill since he was using one hand to palm away the hanging fabric. As he was climbing, he noticed you were asleep and was shocked that you stayed in your state despite the thud he made when he hit the ground. He was thankful you didn’t wake, though; he didn’t want your morning grumpiness on top of your anger at him for not showing up on time. 

When he walked towards your bed, a smile graced his face at the closer sight of your peaceful figure. He wondered what you were dreaming about, and of course he hoped it was him. 

Steve crouched down to plant a kiss on your forehead before pausing and contemplating what he should do. He pondered staying, but he didn’t want to be the kind of creep who sneaks into girls’ beds when they’re sleeping—even if you were dating. Then he thought about sleeping on the floor, but he didn’t want to deal with back pain when he’s already on his feet all day. So, he decided that he’d write a nice note, promise to take you out for a make-up date tomorrow night, then leave the same way he came. 

He sauntered over to the desk across from your bed so he could borrow a pen and piece of paper, then carefully avoided picking the stationery he remembered you calling ‘the expensive stuff’. Personally, he doesn’t understand why anyone would buy writing supplies when they were always just laying around somewhere, but he didn’t judge you. 

Steve started the note out by addressing it and drawing no less than five hearts around your name. Then he got straight to the apology. He wasn’t sure how much he should say, so he just told himself that he’d explain, apologise, and promise to make it up to you until his hand started cramping—and he did just that. He signed his name at the bottom of the page, then capped your pen and thought about where to put it. 

His first thought was to leave it on your pillow, but then he got worried about you smudging it in your sleep and not reading what he wrote, so he went with his next thought of your nightstand. He would leave it by your alarm clock, leave, then you would find it in the morning and all would be okay. But a shiny object on the night table caught his attention and delayed his plan. 

You always wore a gold locket, but you never showed the inside to anyone. All your friends had tried to guess, saying everything from a magazine cutout of Rob Lowe to a single brown m&m, but you never revealed it. 

And now here that necklace was, right in front of Steve, and he couldn’t resist looking. As worried as he was that you’d be mad at him for peeking, he told himself that you’d never find out and it was only a tiny peek. So, he placed the note on the nightstand, and swapped it for the necklace. 

As tough as the decision was on whether he should look or leave it alone, the locket itself was actually quite easy to open. And once he saw the picture, his heart swelled at least two sizes and he wished he had looked before now.

It was a tiny black and white picture of him that was cut out from the school newspaper. He remembers the exact photo, too. It was his last meet with the Hawkins High swim team, and he had tried harder than ever to win. After finishing the half mile distance a second before the rival school, he was completely exhausted.

Your boyfriend came out of the water, and barely got to sit down for a minute before some skinny sophomore had come up wanting to take a picture of him and the rest of the team for the school paper. He had initially told the kid the buzz off, but you had reminded him how hard he worked, and that this might be the last time he ever gets to be in the newspaper, and he reluctantly got up to pose with the rest of his peers. 

He smiled quickly, then went back to the bench to sit with you, grumbling about how he probably looks like he’s about to pass out in the photo. You laughed, but assured him that you saw his smile and he actually looked like a million bucks. 

He tried arguing, but you fed his ego by reminding him a million times of how pretty he always looks and that the picture was no exception. A few days later, the paper came out and you pointed it out as soon as you saw it. 

“See?” You said with a sigh. “The hottest Hawkins High swim champ ever. I’m gonna keep this forever, it’s such a good picture of you.”

Steve didn’t know you actually kept it for this long. He honestly assumed you threw it out the next day, and he certainly didn’t expect you to keep it after graduation. He stroked the edge of the locket with his thumb and wondered when you put the picture in the locket and just how often you looked at it.

The smile on his face wasn’t going anywhere at this point, and it likely wouldn’t leave until he fell asleep. 

He closed the locket and put it back right where he found it, then leaned down to push the hair from your face and kissed your cheek. He whispered a ‘goodnight, sleep tight, baby’ and walked across the room to crawl out through your window. 

Steve wouldn’t tell you about what he saw tonight, but he was sure he’d never stop thinking about it. 

[deathbxnny]

I’ve been busy.. but that doesnt stop me from daydreaming!

Can i request platonic Vi with a best friend that is like Wriothesley? I didnt realized how similar those two are until i saw Wriothesley’s birthday art. It’s just.. mind blowing. ALSO WRIOTHESLEY AND CLORINDE, VI AND CAITLYN. DO YOU SEE IT?! Personally, i dont ship Wrio and Clorinde but i can see why people even ship them in the first place. I see them as platonic besties who support their endeavor with their respective lover (Neuvilette and Navia respectively)

Context:

Reader and Vi met in prison and just clicked bc they just understood each other. When Caitlyn came to ask Vi for help, Vi also made Caitlyn to allow reader out with her as well. Whatever happens next is your choice to make but please also note how reader is from Piltover.

That’s all and have a good day/night!

(School is just.. really busy rn and i have my final exams next week. Im honestly scared, so i might not be active for a while here. But know that i do read your stuff to time to time to destress. Also i really like the post with my navia request, tysm ^_^)

- Flower Anon 🌸

Vi with a best friend Wriothesley-like!Gn!Reader.

Your words about the Wriothesley and Clorinde comparison have enlightened something in my mind lmao. Also, good luck with your exams, Flower Anon! I really, really hope that they go well and dw about not being active much! I appreciate your support either way and hope you'll enjoy this!<3

Content: Reader is from Piltover, past murders, crimes, platonic relationships, Vi and Reader being a menace duo, sfw

Reader has no mentioned pronouns.

((Not proofread))

You and Vi had your backs from day one after meeting in Stillwater. You were both teens then, having been imprisoned under terrible circumstances, and that made you stick together as a team. There was no one else to look out for you in that hell after all.

During your long, seemingly endless time in jail, you both got to know each other perfectly, with no details about your pasts spared. She came to know about your dark past and the murder of your abusive parents rather early on, yet never judged you for it. If anything, she may have been the only one to understand you.

This was surprising, considering your vastly different upbringings. Vi came from poverty down in the slums of Zaun, whilst you once tasted silver spoons and golden dishes on the daily. But it all faded in this hellscape of a prison, where you both endured torture and pain as equals.

You became an unlikely duo out of that, one that upheld a scary and menacing reputation amongst prisoners and wards alike. She was the more angry, violent one, whilst you were a bit of a joker, your words alone enough to send shivers down anyone's spines. It made you both feel more confident and hopeful, even if a way out was unlikely after many years spent in the prison.

Now, far into your adulthood, you decided to give up on that childish dream of freedom, accepting that your life in Stillwater is all you'll ever know. You were used to it by now and built a routine to follow and survive with. But things changed when that Enforcer girl showed up.

You didn't trust her at all, despite roughly remembering who she was. And unfortunately, she remembered you two, although for all the wrong reasons she would simply scoff at. However, since Vi decided to make a deal with Caitlyn, you decided to leave the past behind and simply accept this opportunity to finally escape this place.

And so, after what felt like endless years of fighting for your survival together, you were finally permitted to breathe, mostly, fresh air and live freely again... even with the grim mission at hand that often left you having to comfort Vi whenever things got too out of hand with her emotions. Hunting down Jinx was more traumatic than she'd let on anyways.

But alas, you eventually began enjoying your time out by trying new tea and pastries, running around your okd neighborhoods, and beating up people with Vi that wronged her in the past. It was all in good fun, even if Caitlyn had to hunt you both down every time.

You were the more calmer and gentler out of the three of you, however, as your rationality and ability to lead effortlessly often came in handy. You were somewhat of a balance between the two when things got really bad, despite your own reservations, and eventually ended up being an accidental wingman with how well you spoke of Vi to Cait. You knew firsthand how bad the prejudice against Zaunites could be and would be damned if she ever mistreated Vi because of it.

Ultimately, life turned out a lot more chaotic outside than it was outside of the prison... but with your best friend at your side, you suppose things would only get more interesting from here.