#this is gonna be sooooo goood!

[tomahachi12]

Leeeeeeet's gooooooooo!!

guys i have a vision-

A keychain based off of my last artwork with Uzi flying trough a stained glass window :]

[bbq-potato-chip]

I'D LIKE TO SAY I HAVE THOUGHTS BUT IM JUST SCREAMING IN MY MIND

[holywoodelevator]

Sketch of the sillies haha- I had to

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OMG IM GONNA HAVE A STROKE AND DIE OMGGGG ITS THEM AAAAAA I LOVE THEM SMMMM 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

[courtesanofdeath]

it's 2:30 am and im about to knock about but i just want you all to know black clover sword of the wizard king was so fucking amazing like every single second of it was just *chef's kiss* and you should definitely watch it! it had everything i love about black clover and more and it made me love the series even more! i love black clover so much omg

[alibrandi]

omg that finale episode was a banger. so many moments i had to rewind bc they were so well animated or funny or interesting like. and oh my god. are they seriously gonna eat falin’s dragon parts??? omggg

[seiwas]

@vierisqe @soumies

He has a feeling that the new girl running the front desk at the gym is going to be a problem—a distraction disguised in a gym uniform polo and khaki pants.

It starts with you smiling too brightly as he walks in one morning, all teeth and that little twinkle in your eye that feels like trouble when you scan his membership card.

“Good morning, Mr. Riley.” 

“It’s just Simon,” he tells you as he takes his card off the counter. 

The following day, it’s the same, except Johnny is there to make it worse.

He nudges Simon with his elbow. “She’s kinda pretty, huh?”

“Say it any louder, and she’ll hear you, mate,” he grumbles.

Simon’s not blind; of course, he knows you’re pretty, but he doesn’t have time to commit to anything outside of work—even if you smile at him like you’re happy to see him and how he’ll think about it later: on missions, at his desk, during morning runs. His head is nothing short of woven webs with thoughts of you stuck in the middle.

Honestly, it’s that you—

(You try to make small talk with him every morning, and Simon is starting to think it’s just for him because on the days he doesn’t come alone, you merely scan his card and go back to reading the open paperback book on the desk.)

It’s weird because it’s almost like you—

(He bumps into you at the supermarket and makes a dumb joke about carrots that makes you laugh. It makes him a little tongue-tied and awkward afterward because he realizes he hasn’t talked to a woman outside of only wanting a quick fuck in a really long time, but more importantly, he wants to hear it again. 

Instead, he tosses potatoes in his cart and walks away.)

He tells himself it means nothing, or not how Simon wants it to.

You’re just…he’s not even sure; acquaintances? Maybe more than that, but less than friends. Somewhere in that odd in-between phase where he only knows bits and pieces but not the whole picture.

Sometimes, he wishes—

(Simon doesn’t know what he’s doing the first time he invites you to meet the guys from work on a night out. He’s dated around a few times and had his fair share of hook-ups, but this isn’t like that. His palms are sweaty, more than usual, and no amount of wiping them on the thighs of his jeans keeps them dry.

Then you walk into the bar in a dress that’s probably too light for early spring in London—even though he stares appreciatively at the long expanse of your legs as you walk up to the table—and he wishes he wasn’t introducing you as his friend.)

But you—

(A new development happens after you slip him your phone number on one of the gym’s business cards—it’s weird that we don’t have each other’s numbers, so message me sometime or whatever—and he messages you ‘hey’ right before he leaves for a mission a few days later. 

It slowly shifts and changes over time.

You start sending him texts in the morning. Never an actual good morning text, but of the dogs you take on walks, the sunrise, the new flower box in your window. Somehow, it’s better.)

You really are—

(His house feels too hot, and he’s distracted from the movie by how close you are, how your leg drapes over his under the blanket, fingers fisting into his sweater at his stomach that clenches. An ache that grows, throbbing, spreading from his abdomen to his groin.

It feels monumental—something more than the gentle touch to the elbow to squeeze by each other in his entryway earlier or giving you his jacket that night at the bar—a tilt of the axis that makes the messy pieces fall neatly into place. 

He must be staring because you glance up at him, smiling, and the sound from the TV turns into white noise in the background.

“Can I…would you—fucking hell,” Simon runs a hand through his hair. “Can I kiss you?”

When your lips press against his, and his hands are pulling you onto his lap, where you settle hotly against his dick tenting in his jeans, he wonders why neither of you has done this before. Just kissing—him licking the seam of your mouth, and you panting his name.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a while,” you mumble, lips brushing his.

“Me too,” and he fists his hand into the hair at your nape and pulls you back to his mouth.)

“I knew you’d be trouble,” he tells you one day, glaring at the bloke further down the bar who tried making a swipe at your ass before Simon showed up, towering over his shoulder with your fruity cocktail in hand.

“Oh, yeah?” you giggle, leaning into his side.

“Yeah,” the corners of his mouth quirk, though he hides it when he presses a kiss against your temple. “A real pain in my ass, love.”

“But yours.”

This time, he does smile. “Yes, but mine.”

[zhonglicious]

bf told me negai no astro leaks so if u dont wanna get spoilered dont look at tags bc ill be giggling ab it

[toxicanonymity]

I’m having raider joel withdrawals so I re read the series and I want to just say what a genius you are it’s sooooo goood omg. I just wanna follow him around like a house kitten while he takes care of the crazy world outside 🖤🖤

Thank you, seriously 🖤 Much more to come. I've got raider cooking on multiple burners rn. Ty for stirring them.

If you want him | raider master list

1.5k words, raider!Joel x f!reader

A/N: This is something different. Hypothetical, couldn't get it out of my head. SUMMARY: Joel turns into a prude for a couple of days to find out how bad you want it. Then he gives you what you want. WARNINGS: I8+ jacking off, self-deprivation, riding, rough piv.

When you told Joel you loved him, it got him thinking about how you are with sex. He knew you came, but it never occurred to him that you might actively crave him.  That's what he keeps thinking about now, not the emotion of what you said. The idea of you really wanting him to take you is something he can't get off his mind, and it turns him on. But since he’s always driving things, how would he ever really know you wanted it? He’s not going to ask, "Do you really want it?” No way in hell anything like that is coming out of his mouth.  Instead, he can only try holding back to see if you make a move.  

He doesn’t fuck you for a whole day.  You’re puzzled and dejected.  You wake up at night to the sound of him groaning “oh, baby” over the rhythmic squish of skin in the bathroom. His breathing is labored and his grunts send a pang of desire between your legs. He moans, “ohh, oh—-ahh,” and you slide your hand into your panties. He groans, “Oh God” followed by a drawn-out sigh of relief, and the rhythmic noise stops.  “God damnit,” he mutters to himself. “What am I doin’.”

When the bathroom door opens, you pretend to be asleep, resigning yourself to blue balls. 

----

The next day, he doesn’t try to fuck you either.  You’re sitting at the kitchen table and finally ask him, “Did I do something wrong?”  No, he’s not gonna talk about your feelings OR his.  

“Like what,” he asks. 

“I dunno. Do you still want me?”

“I have ya, sweet pea.  Somethin’ botherin’ ya?” 

Your eyes well up and you're unsure what to say since Joel clearly isn’t going to open up about whatever’s going on. A tear runs down your cheek and he gets hard.  When he adjusts himself, your eyes linger on the bulge in his jeans. You look at it and wet your lips, but it’s not enough for him to know for sure.  

Joel resolves not to touch himself again, no matter how much it hurts with his cock straining against his pants.  He sits back in the chair and manspreads, holding his hands behind his back in a stretch, making his arousal known and his lap very available. His jeans are thin, tight, and stretchy. The outline of his cock is visible on his thigh. You’re looking at his erection and salivating, and it’s taking all he has not to just rail you, but he doesn’t.

He takes a deep breath. He’s getting even harder watching you watch him, his massive hard-on pressing against his jeans.  He’s resisting the urge to even graze it with his wrist. Any relief will have to be initiated by you.  It’s a personal challenge now.  He can control himself, he knows it. He’s just never had a reason to. 

—---

You stand up from your chair. He brings his knees closer together as you approach him. You look to his eyes for permission and he opens his arms. You climb into his lap and hug him, as you’re prone to do–normally when you’re scared, he thinks.  He gently lays a hand on your back to comfort you, but you’re not scared. 

Your crotch is mid-thigh on him, close to his cock but not quite there.  You put your hands around his neck and scoot up.  He closes his eyes as your panties meet his stiff manhood through his thin, soft jeans.  You look down between you, and he looks with you, both of you looking at the growing shape in his pants.  You reach for it and trace the outline of his stiff length.  He clenches his jaw and breathes deeper through his nose. His cock twitches and grows even harder against your hand. He taps his foot, lifting his thigh against your hand a few times. 

"Can I?" You ask hopefully through blurry eyes. 

He nods, but he's not gonna do it for you. "All yours, sweet pea."

You're worried about snagging the zipper since his jeans are so tight and he's not wearing underwear. You bear your wrist down on his cock while you unbutton then slowly unzip his jeans.

You fold that side down and reach into his jeans.  He sighs at the first contact of your soft hand as it grazes his tip and wraps around his shaft. 

You take it out and you're salivating.  You climb down off his lap and onto your knees.  You hold his cock steady as you tongue the slit and take the tip into your mouth.  

"Oh, baby," he whispers as you suck on it. 

Your mouth holds his cock for you and you reach down to take your panties off, stepping your knees out of them. 

You look up at him pleadingly, and he's biting his lip with his brow furrowed as he watches you. 

"What do you want," he asks softly. You take it out of your mouth and hold it with your hand. 

"This," you say. 

"What?"

You shyly look away then return to meet his gaze and say, "your cock?" Like it's a trick question. 

"Oh, sweet pea," he groans. "I told ya it's all yours."

"Can I have some now" 

He nods way up and down like he's never been more sure of anything. "Take it."

You climb back in his lap. "It's so big," you say. "I dunno how."  

"Sure ya do.  You wet?" 

You lift your dress, tilt your hips forward, and swipe your fingers through your folds then show him the shine. He quietly sighs “Mmmm” and closes his eyes for a few seconds. Then you hover near his cock and bring the weeping tip to tease your clit, then your entrance. 

"Can I put it inside?"

"God damn," he exhales. "Just put it where ya want it," bordering on exasperated. 

-----

Mercifully, he at least holds it at the base for you.  You hold onto his bare shoulders and hover over his cock, then begin to sink down onto the tip. You groan at the stretch, and he winces as he tries to resist pulling you down. He gently rests his hands on your thighs and can't help but give them a little squeeze.

You gradually let all your weight onto him, sheathing his thick cock with your cunt. It fills you up and you shudder as he bottoms out. Your nipples harden under your dress. He can't resist a subtle rock of his hips, but just one. 

You put your wrists around his neck and begin to move up and down his length. 

"How's it feel," he asks.

"So good," you pant. "really missed it," you say on the verge of tears as you let yourself slide down on his length again.

Joel nods and whispers, "me too."

"You do it so much better," you whine.

Joel sighs but lets you keep going. This is something new for him and he’s captivated. You bring yourself up and down on him a few more times. His big hands go to your ass, but he's still letting you stay in control for now. You take him in a few more times then hesitate at the top.

-----

He moans painfully while you're at the top, then under his breath says, "Fuck" and abruptly pulls you down. He holds onto you, stands up without pulling out, and haphazardly dumps you on the table face-up. Right away he pulls back, then slams back into you with a sigh.   Your legs wrap loosely around him. He puts his palms on your breasts, wrapping his fingers slightly around your sides for leverage, and he pounds you. 

The table is moving with his effort. He holds you down with one arm so you don't drift away while he rails you harder than ever. Your skin sticks to the table. He gropes your breasts desperately as he fucks you with no mercy. The contact of his tip with your cervix is painful until your body adjusts. 

“Joel,” you sigh, then wrap your legs around him tighter.  His cruel length pummels your poor little cunt, making up for lost time.

He grunts as he gives it to you rough. 

He leans over you and fists your hair. "God damn, you take it good," he mutters to himself as his swollen cock rails into you.  He fucks you with the pent up need of two days which might as well be an eternity with you around. To you it feels like he's filling your whole body up, like your guts are moving out of the way for him. You whimper on the verge of coming. 

"Ohhh, take it," he pants. "Yeahh, fuck." 

You tighten your legs around him and let yourself unravel. The pleasure grabs you violently and you sigh as your cunt flutters around his cock. 

Joel says, "damnit, baby."  Then he plunges to the hilt and stays there as his cock begins to pulse. His neck veins bulge and throb as he fills you up with his cum.  He groans and slowly thrusts into you twice more, still coming. He puts his forehead on the table near yours, catching his breath.  

Then he pulls up his head and looks at you.  He lays a palm over your breast and asks, “You okay?”

You nod, “yeah. Much better.” 

He laughs and musses your hair. He pulls out and you whimper at the loss. 

“I know, sweet pea. But it's yours any time. ” 

You want to tell him “same,” but he already knows. 

----

----

thank you so much for the raider love and thank you all for reading and engaging. it helps with the creative juices.

------

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose  @fandomsfallnomore  @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339   @manazo @wolvesandvampires  @taeslarityy  @str84pedro @lokanda  @kyloispunk  @filthfairy  @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles  @harriedandharassed  @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy  @cutesyscreenname  @weddingfairy  @pedropascal-whore  @spideysimpossiblegirl  @feministfanboi @gracieispunk @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @milla-frenchy @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @am-3-thyst @may-machin @pedromania91 @sloanexx @paleidiot

[seiwas]

omg im scared my tags are gonna get cut out

were he not born to be a hero he must surely be born for this. <- I LOOOOVE THISS my GODD are u KIDDDDINGME i looooove that so much monty :(( how it ties back in to the start!!

and the way!! he uses what he learned on izuku. and izuku really DID burst into a million tears 🥺 poor guy probs needs it THE MOST WAAAH i loooove this lil interaction i am MUSH

and when he realises its different from touching you??? OHHHH. BOYYYYYY.

i love this monty thank u for writing this

STEADY BEGINNINGS ┊ TODOROKI SHOUTO

tags: GN reader, developing relationship (eventual friends to lovers), touch starved shouto, physical affection (hand holding + long hugs), good god the yearning, obliviousness, jealousy, fluff + angst, pro hero shouto, reader works at hero agency

wc: 3.8K

series masterlist: 2/5

Shouto was born to be a hero.

It is a sentiment shared by reporters and fans alike. Todoroki Shouto, the pride of Endeavor, the saving grace of his family name. True, his development had been entirely up to chance—no matter the intent or cruel desperation behind his father’s actions, he had to rely on the probability that the next offspring would win the genetic lottery—but low and behold, he did, and to many people that alone was a sign of destiny at work.

Ultimately, he chose to continue the path of being a hero himself, but no higher being put him there. His father did. At the time of his birth Shouto had not been a son, not even a baby. He was a project. A small, shapeless, squirmy thing. Malleable, like any young mind. It’s a miracle he retained any will and individuality.

Sometimes when alone with his thoughts, Shouto would hypothesise on the whys and the hows. The conclusion he always comes to is this: any sort of reality in which Shouto succumbs to his father’s ideals and manipulation would have to be a world in which his mother does not exist.

While his existence was planned, and wanted, he was to be a hero and as such, wasn’t cut from love—that came after. He loved his mother. So much so that when she hurt, he hurt. When she cried, he cried. She taught him what it meant to be gentle, to have hope, to aspire to be his own person. Years spent amongst the country's finest heroes and Shouto still regarded his mother as the bravest woman he knew, strong because she refused to be hardened by her circumstances; soft so that she can’t be broken again.

You are like his mother in that regard. Those same echoes of reassurance that softness isn’t weakness, and it isn’t earned. You’ve been touching him more as of late, as if determined to prove it. Static between brushed fingertips, words expressed by simply pressing your knees together, the weight of your hand on his bicep to garner his attention. The build up is subtle and cumulative and yet each instance strikes him with the magnitude of a thermodynamic explosion.

Nobody bats an eyelid to this shift in physicality, which makes it all the more difficult to determine whether he is reading into things or not. It could be that he’s noticing those small instances only because it’s you, and you are all he can think about lately.

You’ve given him permission to reciprocate. He merely has to ask for more if he wants it. What Shouto hadn’t accounted for is the unbearability of being vulnerable enough to ask. An innocent “can you hug me?” becomes so much more daunting to voice with all that longing crowded up behind it. He can’t help worrying you’ll see right through to the bottom of his desires.

A hand comes into view. Bakugo’s ash-smudged finger and thumb pinch and snap together in front of his face. “Come back to Earth, dumbass. Your thousand yard stare is scarin’ my new assistant”.

Shouto blinks out of his stupor and the blurred vignette surrounding his vision recedes. He glances at the skittish man sitting outside Bakugo’s office currently sending worried glances over his shoulder. “I think he’s more scared that you’re back,” Shouto intones dryly. “Isn’t he the fourth one this year?”

“Not my fault they’re all wimps,” Bakugo huffs. A slap reverberates around the office as he throws down a manila folder onto his desk and drops heavily into his chair. He regards Shouto with suspicion overtop his computer monitor. “Whatever you were just thinkin’ about—stop”.

“You don’t know what I’m thinking about”.

“I know you always manage to make Olympic level leaps in logic,” Bakugo rolls his eyes and tears open the folder. He slides out what Shouto assumes is a debrief and flips it between his fingers. Shouto keeps quiet. He reclines into the couch cushions and returns to reading the incident report on his lap, counting down from ten in the privacy of his mind. Anytime now.

Three, two, one.

“So what is it?” Bakugo asks, trying too hard to sound flippant but landing squarely on irritation. “Spit it out before you give yourself an aneurysm”.

Shouto opens his mouth and closes it again. A wave of hot embarrassment washes over him. He knows Bakugo will do him the kindness of being blunt and honest but it doesn’t make it any less humiliating to admit.

In their younger years Shouto saw something of a kindred spirit in Bakugo. He too did not like touch and aggressively voiced his distaste for it whenever he got the chance—which was often, because divine intervention sought fit to give him the most tactile, handsy friend group possible.

As they got older though, Shouto began to realise that the protests and threats were hollow. Despite being vehemently against affection, Bakugo would allow it anyway, and sometimes even seek it out. The aggression was bravado. Bakugo liked having his friends draped around his shoulders. He liked when Mina kissed his cheek, or Kaminari played with his hair, or Kirishima gathered him into a too-tight hug, or Sero tangled their ankles together on the couch.

Only, for him to comfortably accept it, Bakugo needed to act as though he were doing them a favour by allowing them into his space. And Bakugo’s friends played along without complaint.

From what he’s observed you are also an affectionate person. You are liberal with your warmth and adapt seamlessly to the boundaries of those around you. But you were also visibly uncomfortable whenever people took that affinity for intimacy as an open invitation, and recoiled if they encroached on your own.

Shouto has imagined reaching out only for your body to flinch away from him more times than he can count. It’s a battle staged in his head, ingrown fears. The possibility alone was enough to keep him from reciprocating, set in a state of fawn-like inertia.

“There’s somebody I want to get closer to. A friend,” he begins. Bakugo makes an inquisitive noise, props his cheek against his fist and narrows his eyes as he listens. Shouto retells the story in part, deciding to omit your name, and by the tail-end of it Bakugo’s forehead is deeply creased in dissatisfaction.

“You make all your own problems, Halfie. Y’know that?” he mutters, rubbing at the bridge of his nose and sinking back into his chair. “Fine, you don’t want to make this person uncomfortable, or whatever. If you need a hug so damn badly, why not ask Deku? Not like he’d say no”.

Knowing Bakugo would make his dilemma sound ridiculous is one thing, actually hearing it is another. “How do you know it isn’t about Midoriya,” Shouto returns petulantly.

“It ain’t Izuku or anyone else from your nerd squad,” Bakugo says, dropping his hand to drum on the desk. “I would’ve heard about it”.

“Why?”

“Because you don’t touch people. And that’s fuckin’ fine, yeah? But if you had, I know for a fact any one of them would’ve burst into tears and told everyone in a five mile radius”.

“Oh,” it leaves him a little off-kilter to hear. Shouto leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, setting the report on the dark wood coffee table. The corner of the page is curled, and the spine is creased, and the ink annotation has smudged under his thumb. He details these things as he deliberates, the excuses cloying in his throat and thick like he might cry too.

Bakugo was right—if he craved close contact so badly, why couldn’t he go to Midoriya? He knows he would likely be met with enthusiasm.

“You don't have to tell me who. I don’t care. But you’re overthinking it,” Bakugo grunts at his lack of response, in a way that very much suggests that he cares. “Go ask. If they say ‘no’ it’s tough shit, but the world isn’t gonna end. From what you’ve told me they wouldn’t say ‘no’ anyway. Dumbass”.

Shouto nods and gives up the pretense of reading the paperwork. He feels coltish as he stands and brushes down his front, straightening the creases.

“You’re right”.

“I know”.

“Thank you, Bakugo,” he says. A small smile unfurls across his anxiety-bitten mouth. “You’re a good friend”.

“Shut up,” Bakugo grumbles. It’s a testament to his concern that he hadn’t cursed Shouto there and then. “Now get out of my office. What are you doing here in the first place? You got your own!”

“Yours gets all the sunlight. And it’s always quiet because nobody comes in here,” Shouto ignores the baleful slit of an eye Bakugo turns on him. “I’m going to take my lunch now”.

“Do what you want,” Bakugo dismisses haughtily, and Shouto smiles while thinking, not for the first time, that he’s very lucky to have friends like these.

The fidgety assistant bows as he exits and turns into the sun-drenched hallway. Warmth drapes around Shouto’s shoulders, lingering at his nape while he descends the dark stairwell where the light doesn’t reach. His boots thud against the linoleum, and he counts each footfall to keep his face neutral as his legs carry him toward your department.

Somewhere between one and one hundred and thirteen, a fraction of Shouto’s courage starts to dwindle. He grits his teeth. A hundred steps can’t be enough to dissuade him after decades of denying himself any kind of indulgence.

The further he goes into the support wing the more elaborate the layout becomes. You’re in research and development, assigned a workshop close to the quirk analysts. Heads turn as Shouto rolls through. Heroes didn’t often make personal visits to this area. If he thinks hard enough he could count a grand number of two past visits and neither of them were for you.

His stride falters when he catches sight of your nameplate. It is fixed to the wall outside your door, polished and gleaming proudly. Shouto traces the characters of your name engraved into steel before raising his hand to knock.

Your voice rings out from inside, “Come in!”

A pitched beeping sound comes from overhead. The workshop doors begin to open in a theatrical fashion, receding like curtains to reveal your space. The floor is mapped out with tape. Clear boundaries drawn between the work benches, the fume cupboards, the vault and your personal office, in an attempt at organised chaos. He might have been more interested in poking around for the first time if he had not felt on the edge of intrusion.

You’re tucked behind your curved desk surrounded by numerous monitors that dwarf your frame. Shouto furtively takes in your cute, rumpled appearance. The upper half of your coveralls have been undone to reveal an undervest, sleeves tied tight around and accentuating your waist.

“Take a seat, I’ll be with you in…” the dull tapping of practiced keystrokes comes to a stop as you notice him in the doorway. The professional veneer disappears. “Shouto?” you say, mostly to yourself. Your gaze slides beyond his shoulder, looking for whoever might be accompanying him. “Is everything okay?”

There’s a worried twist in your mouth that he wants to smudge away. A look in your eyes—a combination of warmth and weight that tugged at his being. Shouto rolls his shoulders, shaking off the tension, and moving deeper into your office. The doors close automatically behind him. “I’m okay,” he assures, taking the seat across from you.

Your expression gentles, and he likes how your gaze follows him. “I was wondering if you wanted to have lunch with me,” he continues. “But if you’re working I can head back”.

“Lunch?” you repeated. Your eyes darted to the corner of the monitor closest to you and promptly widened. “Oh, shit. When did that happen?”

An upswing of fondness catches him like a blow to the chest. His mouth quirks into a smirk. “How long have you been here?”

“Too long. I got lumped with a new project a few days ago and it’s almost done,” the monitors shut off one by one as you sheepishly press each button. Then you gave him a soft, apologetic look, “I’m sorry I’ve been so busy. Must’ve missed me if you came all the way down here”.

Dread shriked through him. The low whirring from the equipment scattered around your workspace is suddenly inordinately loud. Was he that obvious?

You, however, fail to notice Shouto’s anxiety and grab him around the wrist as you pivot the desk. “C’mon. Let’s go before the good stuff is gone,” you tell him.

Shouto had absolutely no clue what the ‘good stuff’ entailed—maybe he should’ve bothered to ask. Atleast it would take his mind off your hand. It’s wrapped around his sleeve, right where the fabric ends, loose enough for him to unshackle from if he wants. When he doesn’t protest the contact you stroke your thumb in an arc over the heel of his hand and squeeze.

Shouto falls into step, too caught up to realise you’ve taken him to the cafeteria. He expects you’ll drop his wrist in the presence of your colleagues, yet you adjust your grip and glance back at him with an encouraging tilt of your head.

“I’m starving. I think I’ll get a rice bowl. Smells pretty good today, don’t you think?”

Shouto hummed his agreement. He felt out of his depth, and he didn’t trust his voice. The spark of giddiness was doing embarrassing things to his throat. The line is mercifully short and before long he has a warm bowl of food held against his front.

“Did you want to sit in here? I can take us to one of the senior staff lounges instead if you want,” you cast a nervous look across the sparse crowd. “I mean, support engineers aren’t really gossiping types but…”

A petty part of him hoped the whispers would escalate. To have your name linked with his, to be known as a person that you cared about—he found that deeply satisfying, for reasons he couldn’t yet put his finger on.

Then again, being alone with you far eclipsed the appeal of flaunting your friendship. “The senior staff lounge sounds best,” he answers after a minute of feigned consideration. You nod, regretfully having dropped his hand, and motion for him to follow once more.

The lounge is a modest room with a kitchenette, a breakfast nook and a few bean bag chairs. It smells faintly like peeled oranges. There are post it notes and blueprints haphazardly stuck to the pinboard, covering an out of date calendar filled out in illegible scrawl. This is no shop awning. There is no rainfall to lend to the ambiance. But you are together in an enclosed space, and that is enough to make his heart beat in anticipation.

You scoot into the breakfast nook. He sits on the same side of the table and tries to subtly spread his knees enough to nudge your thigh. You side-glance in surprise but choose not to mention it. Instead you smile through your first mouthful and ask, “How've things been since I last saw you?”

Achy, like he’s used an atrophied muscle. Lonely, and frustrating beyond words. But he doesn’t say any of that. He digs crescents into his thigh through his pant leg and says, “Boring”.

“Figured that might be the case. I saw the livestream of you fighting Haywire,” you bump your shoulder against his. “The Commission probably dumped a whole load of paperwork on you, huh?”

Shouto wrinkles his nose. He hoped you hadn’t caught that fight. The pursuit of Haywire—an eco terrorist with an electrical quirk—managed to cause an unprecedented amount of damage to the city infrastructure.

“You handled it as best you could. The power grid can be fixed. What’s important is people are alive because of you,” a warm weight covers the fingers restlessly whittling at his pant leg. You pet his hand, “I’m glad you weren’t hurt”.

Guided solely by his impulses, the instant you start to draw back he envelops the top of your hand and sandwiches it between his own. He goes hot and cold all over in quick succession. Boundaries, he reminds himself. But you’re not pulling away. You’re studying him with a knowing gleam in your eye.

Shouto clears his throat. Heat pricks across his skin, concentrated in his cheekbones. “Sorry,” he says. You can ask, a memory echoes. “Is this okay?”

“You don’t have to apologise. I told you it’s fine,” you reply firmly. “I’m happy to remind you if you need to hear it”.

“No, I…” his brow furrows. “I’ve been thinking”.

“That’s not good”.

Shouto snorts and shakes his head, his amusement petering out into a shallow breath. “I want to ask. I’ve wanted to ask like you said I could,” he explains vaguely. “I’m not very good at it, I think”.

You make a soft, understanding sound that immediately sets him at ease. “I guess, after denying yourself something for so long it can be scary to let yourself have it again,” you murmur, a faraway look in your eyes. After a pensive moment the sheen fades and your laughter lines deepen, “I’ll do what I did before, then. If you look like you need a hug I’ll ask you instead”.

“In what way do I ‘look like’ I need a hug?”

“You get this—I don’t know how to explain it,” you gesture vaguely at him. “This blankness about you, but not your normal resting face, I mean you don’t seem all there. I don’t like it. I like it best when you’re happy”.

“Ah,” comes his eloquent response. Shouto drops his gaze to where your hands knot together. Every quark in his body is urging him to get closer, and remain close. “Bakugo thinks I should try to hug Midoriya, too,” he adds, oddly flustered.

“Huh. You talked to Bakugo about—? That’s a surprise. A nice surprise, I mean! Well, Midoriya does give great hugs. It would be good for you to…”

Shouto’s thoughts grow louder and he frowns down at his rice. You’re saying something about physical touch and wellness and friends. Dopamine and serotonin. It barely registers. Two truths are pinging around his skull.

You have hugged Midoriya. Of course you have. You’re friends.

You think he’s great at it.

Why is that so unsettling? Teenagers think like this. Single minded and overly emotional.

He feels the shifting of your knuckles under his palm. “Hey. You’ll need one of these back if you’re going to eat,” you say.

“Right,” he lifts his left hand and picks up his chopsticks to take a pinch of rice from his bowl. He chews until the clamouring in his mind has settled, and you patiently accept his stoic silence without explanation. Shouto hasn’t been this awkward since highschool, and even then he was too wrapped up in his familial problems to be aware of it.

“What’s the project you’ve been working on?” he eventually asks.

You take the change of topic in your stride, leaning closer and lowering your voice to an excited whisper, “I’m not supposed to tell you but—it’s for Deku’s new costume”.

“Midoriya is getting a new costume?” Shouto replies. You playfully shush him and he pouts a little.

“Don’t sulk. He doesn’t know yet either,” you poke a chopstick at the corner of his jutted mouth. “It’s my job to prepare a design portfolio and talk through everything next week. You’ll get a new one too, when you break the top five”.

“If,” he amends.

“You don’t think you’ll move up?”

“Reaching the top was never really a priority for me,” Shouto’s attention splinters, half of his focus on the conversation and the other on the sensation of your skin. He considers overturning his hand to entwine your fingers. “I just want to be the best hero I can be”.

You hum, and as if plucking the desire right from his mind, absentmindedly slip into the gaps between his fingers. Shouto steadies his breathing and takes another mouthful.

The rest of the hour passes, syrupy and slow like molasses. By the final minute Shouto’s palm is sticky and reluctant to part from yours. You usher him out from the breakfast nook first, stacking the empty bowls before directing him back toward the emptied cafeteria.

You slide the bowls along the counter for the kitchen staff to take. Then you wipe your hands down your front as you pivot to face him, thrusting out both arms as he stands frozen.

“Can I hug you?”

Shouto touches his face and you laugh.

“This is because I want one,” you clarify with a warm grin, beckoning him closer.

Shouto inhales steps into the embrace, his arms instinctively wrapping around your back. There are less layers this time—the heat of your body is overwhelming, alongside the gentle rise of goosebumps across your bare shoulders. Your breath fell gently on his collarbone, his head lowering to curl into you. He thinks, were he not born to be a hero, he must surely be born for this.

“Thank you,” you mumble, squeezing his waste a final time as you retreat. “I’ll talk to you later, yeah?”

Shouto nods. Your presence moves away like the sun being blocked out and he watches you go, departing words caught in his teeth, an incessant buzz in his fingertips. The walk back to his office is a gauzy yellow haze. Every physiological response in his body told him that he was in a free fall, despite his feet being firmly on the ground.

“Shouto!”

Shouto halts mid-step at the familiar voice. He turns to look at Izuku, at the tentative beginnings of his smile. “Izuku,” he says.

“We missed you at lunch—are you feeling alright?” Izuku asks, slightly bemused. “You look kinda… floaty,” his eyes are dark, softened in the afternoon light as they sweep over Shouto’s figure and his face.

"Izuku," Shouto said before he could convince himself otherwise, “Do you want a hug?”

The innocent question appeared to crash into Izuku with the levity of a bullet train in motion. Tears sprang to his eyes, brighter now. Shouto tenses as he is swept into a solid hug. Izuku smells like fresh air, sweat and sweet-salty broth. He holds Shouto as though trying to keep his seams from bursting; thick arms are secure around his shoulders, and a rough palm rubs broad strokes down his back, smoothing the tension until Shouto is relaxed.

You were right. Izuku does give great hugs. Shouto came away doughy, and fuller, and with the stark realisation that while touching Izuku soothed the ache, it still felt completely different to touching you.

Later, as he leaned his head against the desk surface, he sluggishly contemplated the implications of that.

[blankfairy]

your children will haunt you.

samsa vesgar, finn flint, and trystane strong. sketch/lines by @novembermorgon + colors by me :D

i'm sooooo not normal about these three. their dynamic is gonna be so fun to write. what if your daughter bore the face of your nightmares. what if your son reminded you of what other people saw when they looked at you. what if they were both taller than you too wouldn't that suck lol

they all turned out reallllyyy pale but fuck it we ball. this was finished weeks n weeks ago but still ty to novembermorgon for letting me keep commissioning them (: turned out SOOOO GOOOD RAHRHHR

[xenasaur]

Getting mommy dommed how you describe would be sooooo goood but I'd probably cry about being taken care of :P hopefully you're okay with that.

yes baby, of course it's okay to cry <3

mommy's going to kiss away every last tear, okay? come snuggle up tight, it's okay. I know you haven't been treated right for a long time, but mommy's gonna do its best to fix that now. you deserve a mommy who understands your struggles, who always wants to work together with you to solve the problem, and who will accept and love you no matter what. you deserve a mommy who will hold you tight and comfort you when you're scared, who will gently get all the tangles out of your hair and brush it for you, who will reassure you when your trauma tells you it'll leave just like everyone else. you deserve good things anon. you deserve a loving mommy <3

[sophie-summer]

Noooooo way, I was sure PB was going to make us wait until late September for the book.

BUT IT'S COMING IN LESS THAN 2 WEEK.

BLADES BLADES BLADES!!!!!! September 1st!!!!

[fand0mfever]

I crave some nsfw and sfw alphabet for Wolverine, you write him sooooo goood 😝😭😭🚨🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲

I started to work on it once and I lost that draft-

ANYWAY

SFW ALPHABET

Affection - He's a little touchy if he's in a good mood, he'll have a hand somewhere on you, and he'll have his hand in your back pocket if he's feeling a little mischievous. But he is a walking, neon, DNI sign when he's not in a good mood. But if you ask nicely he'll be affectionate.

Best Friend - he says he doesn't like annoying people, but his 2nd best friend is Wade... you're his number one though. Wade gets jealous but you are first priority.

Cuddles - He is not really one for cuddles. It's mostly if you ask, or wrapping an arm around you from time to time. He'll initiate, but not often.

Domestic - I mean... have you seen him in X-Men Origins? He can 100% be domestic if you are the one. He'll be a little weary at first, I mean, the ending of Origins says why. But as long as you two split responsibility (Unless something comes up) he is down for it.

Ending - I hate to say it but he would 100% ghost you. Just all of a sudden drops off the face of the earth. The movies support this. (I know the movies aren't 100% accurate, but I don't have the resources to be able to read the comics.)

Fiancé - With being alive as long as he has been, he doesn't really see the point in marriage. But if about 6-7 years in, you start throwing hints, he'll catch them and start saving up for the ring and the wedding.

Gentle - He tries. He's got great at it, but he tries. He tends to forget his weight, being so used to it, and he's not the best at being emotionally available... But he'll be there for you if you need let out your emotions.

Hugs - He's not really a hugger. It's a lot like the cuddling. He's more likely to give you a hug without you asking though, since he just knows sometimes that you need one.

I love you - He will not be quick to say it. He's been hurt with those words before (see: X-men origins, The last stand) and he's admittedly a little scared to feel that again. But give him a couple years, and he'll say it.

Jealousy - Oh you wanna see him jealous? One guy is all it takes. One guy who either doesn't get the hint, or you are flat out ignoring. He's either going to start a fight, right there, or he stands behind you. Staring. Menacingly.

Kisses - He doesn't like PDA. But when it's just you two? Kisses everywhere. He might not like to cuddle, but he loves Kisses. He'll kiss your forehead, your cheek, your neck

Little ones - Have you seen how many kids he's practically adopted? I mean, they're teenagers, but it counts (Ex: Jubilee). If they're younger, as long as they can stand a little rough housing, he's perfect. You know that one meme of RDJ and his kid, and then Chris with his? Yeah he's like Chris.

Mornings - Depends on the day. It can go three ways: he's a bear to wake up and his grumpy, he's in a good mood and will go through your routine with you, or, third option, horny

Nights - Nights are similar. If he worked a lot, he'll go straight to bed and nothing can stop him, or he'll relax and slowly wind down from the day with you. Third option: horny

Open - It takes a long time for him to be open with you. And when he finally does, it'll be unexpected. You'll be cuddling, about to fall asleep, and he'll ask if he can share. And if he shares, you can share. He'll be your unhelpful therapist from day one, even if he's not quite there yet.

Patience - It's give or take. He'll be patient if you want to wait for physical intimacy of any type, even if it's just hand holding. But everything else is basically full throttle. There is no talking stage, you go on a date with him and you are now his S/O.

Quizzes - I'm gonna be honest, he'll remember only what he finds important. Anniversaries, your birthday, and that's pretty much as far as it goes. But he finds the little things important. Like how you like to do your hair, your favorite color, your favorite shirt of his. It's important to him, so he'll remember.

Remember - Speaking of remembering, his favorite moment is probably finally feeling safe enough to be vulnerable with you. Your reassurance really solidified that you were his ride or die.

Security - He's free scary dog privileges. If it's someone whose not scared of him, (ex: Magneto), you can try to be his scary dog. If it doesn't work out, he'll handle it. And he won't fault you either.

Try - it may not look like it to outsiders, but he does try. He doesn't need to take you out on fancy dates for you know that he's trying. He has a lot of hidden anxiety about fucking up, so him doing anything is him trying. He might seem cocky, but it's a mask that only you can see as a mask, and not just him.

Ugly - Smoking. You can live with the drinking since he doesn't go overboard, more of a casual drinker, but the smoking. Take that cigar and shove some sort of candy in his mouth-

Vanity - He's not really vain. He works out a little bit for his personal preference, sure, but as long as he doesn't smell, he doesn't really care.

Whole - Once you two are locked, you are half of him. If you are away for some reason, he gets snippy, and everyone knows to steer clear. They just see him as angry. You know what it really is though. He knows anger as an emotional outlet, so it's his default. He's actually really sad, and no one but him knows this, but he'll cuddle his pillow when you're not there at night.

Yuck - Pressure. If you pressure him to be anything he isn't, or isn't ready to be, he's out. You try to force him into the cookie cutter? You will never see him again. He doesn't want to be fixed, he likes who he is (sometimes) and he'll let himself change naturally. If you pressure him, he's gone like the wind.

Zzz - He has sleep apnea. Due to how the ribs expand when you breathe, and his bones being coated in adamantium, he has a surpringly hard time breathing. Especially when he's asleep and his body weight is adding to it. He'll just... stop breathing a quick min while sleeping. That, paired with the nightmares? Insomnia.

NSFW ALPHABET

(Content warning from here)

Aftercare - I am so sorry but this man is shit at aftercare. He's not roll over and fall asleep immediately kind of shitty, but more of a 'I don't know what to do' kind of shitty. He'll cuddle with you if you want him too, but that's as far as it goes without a little coaching.

Body part - Boobs or ass? Nah, he likes your stomach. No matter the shape. Toned, apron belly, etc. He has his hands on your stomach when he fucks you. He likes his chest, personally. It's the one muscle that the heavy bones doesn't build, and he's proud that he's able to actually work on it naturally. And he won't admit it, but, he does like when you touch his nipples.

Cum - Anywhere. He just loves to cum. Inside, outside, wherever. He will work you to cum, and he will cum, and he's satisfied with that.

Dirty secret - He will never tell you this, but if you are a loud moaner, he does get kinda annoyed by it. You ever wonder why he lets his hand rest on your neck?

Experience - There are 100's of lists of all the characters he has slept with, men and women. Need I say more?

Favorite Position - Missionary. It's the most vanilla, but he doesn't care. It allows you to touch him, and he gets to see your face and your body, a 2 in 1 special. His second favorite is doggy, and his third is lotus.

Goofy - He'll crack a joke here and there, and laugh when there's a funny sound. There's always going to be weird sounds with sex, why not laugh at it? Other than that he doesn't joke a lot.

Hair - He's a hairy man. That ab scene in deadpool and Wolverine? Yeah, Hairy. He'll keep it trimmed so it doesn't get out of hand and cause issues, but if you ask, he'll try to keep everything trimmed for you. You gotta remind him now and then.

Intimacy - Unless it's a special time, he's not really romantic about it. He'll flirt a little bit as foreplay, but that's pretty much it for daily sex.

Jack off - He doesn't mind it, especially since he knows that libido varies from person to person, so if he's in the mood, and you're not, he'll rub one out. He prefers to fuck of course, but he knows how to take care of himself.

Kink - Biting. You can't wear revealing shirts because otherwise someone will see the bruises from his teeth. He just can't explain why his brain tells him to bite down on you right before he cums. He also likes it when you bite him back, because it can add a bit of playfulness to it.

Location - He's a private man. So anywhere where you two won't get caught. You can be in the middle of the woods, away from trails, and he'll go at it with you if you want. But that's as public as he'll allow.

Motivation - crop tops. No matter your sex or gender, they get to him. That and anything like shorts or skirts where he could slip in at the right angle.

No - He won't severely hurt you. If you're kinkier, he'll draw a little bit of blood with his claws, but he won't downright stab you. He's not a fan of blood, but if you're into it, he can compromise a little. Also he hates role play.

Oral - He doesn't really have a preference. He likes both giving and receiving. And God is he good at it, too, whether it be dick or pussy, he knows his way around. If you are a particularly clean person, he might even rim you from time to time.

Pace - depends on the day. Most is a fast, drilling pace, but every once in a while he likes to take it slow. (That's why he likes the lotus position.)

Quickie - You'd think he'd be down for it, but surprisingly, no. He'd rather wait to get multiple rounds with you, and the good lube.

Risk - He's not really risky. It mostly stems from not wanting people to know his buisness, or even the chance someone else could see you, and you be embarrassed.

Stamina - His healing ability plays a part, but not as much as you'd think. You gotta give him a little bit of time, but he's almost always down for another round, he mostly stops when you tap out.

Toys - I feel like unless you introduce him to it, he won't have any interest. Despite being the sexy desire he is, he's a little bit old school, he only really knew vanilla before the modern world. He is down to try anything though. Even urethra play if you promise he gets to do it on you, too.

Unfair - He might tease a little if there's one of the funny sex sounds, but otherwise he just gets straight into it. He doesn't quite have the patience, even if he wishes he did.

Volume - You know how half of his lines in the movie is grunts? Yeah. It's a lot of grunting.

Wild Card - He would be willing to let someone else be a cuck. No touching, but if you're comfortable, someone else can watch. (Wade volunteers as tribute-)

Yearning - Depends on the time of year. Not like a rut thing, but more like a woman's cycle. Animals have certain seasons that they really try to mate, to have the best opportunity to create life, and he is subconsciously going to be the same way.

Zzz - Insomnia king, but when he is actually tired, he makes sure you're at least comfortable and satisfied before letting himself fall asleep.

There's my Logan SFW and NSFW alphabet! I hope yall enjoyed it!

[epicfranb]

the scene in the end of Dandadan's 4th episode where they go "is this 'goodbye' or 'bye-bye'?" iS SOOOOO GOOOD i watched it with the dub cuz there weren't subs yet at the time and the actors' preformance there was peak. the whole episode is amazing but that one scene is gonna remain in my brain forever

[abitohoney]

Hiya I just found you on AO3 and you have the best sevika fics 😍 I fucking love lessons in bdsm and I was wondering wether you were gonna update it. Cause it's sooooo goood😍😍

Sorry for the late reply! I actually was going to respond yesterday, but with all the booping I was afraid this would get lost in the chaos. 😆

I'm so glad you like my Sevika fics!!! 🥰 I love her so much and it's just lovely to know others enjoy her and these silly stories of mine just as much as I do. I've hit a bit of a... writers block? Not sure that's the right term though. I have gobs of ideas and details in my head and in my WIPs but every word I put down looks like shit to me. I don't plan to give up though, and I did write a good chunk of Lessons in BDSM chapter 3 (plus have planned goodies for chapter 4). It's just a matter of me finding that groove and/or confidence again. I will say though, comments and asks like this certainly help motivate me. So thank you! 🖤🖤🖤

[thedndgoblinwholivesinyourwalls]

I AM LAYING ON THE FLOOR DEAD/POS THAT WAS SUCH A GOOD POEM LIMEEE

hii larkk im sending you so many asks today hehehehe

so i wrote. janette from adele pov poem. and. its not my best work but its my best usage of a metaphor so far so !! improvement !!!!!! ehehehhe

disclaimer: this is my perception of adele based on what ive heard so uhh yeah sry if this isnt actually how she acts forgive me OTL

also warning for the reader being adele here. ahfkjlfd that feels like a warning i should make LMAO

---

Your first thought when you first saw her was that she looked fragile. Beautiful, oh certainly, but so brittle. Like stained glass. She could break if you smiled too hard at her, you thought. It was an idea you relished in. This pretty fragile thing.

You soon learned, though. She may be fragile, but like any piece of decorative glass, she’s been tempered, through fires of trials and difficulties. You learn, but you don’t change your mind. Perhaps you’ll just have to smile a little harder. Make her learn the truth.

You’ve never gone too far in your life. Limits are something you know, of course you do. You’ve never reached yours. You can make her reach hers. Tempered glass may have a high melting point, but you’ve always liked a nice little experiment, haven’t you? She’s just so much more than anything else you’ve ever seen.

You would never admit it if she’d won. You wouldn’t let her. She can burn in a fire hotter than any other that she and her damned church have been through. It will be such a pleasure to watch her finally melt.

You’re not even surprised anymore when she returns. You’re glad, even. At this point you don’t really know what you’d do without her. And though a part of you hates her at this point, you still smile when you see her again. She’s more fragile now. Even the most tempered glass can’t withstand heat too strong, even once reformed. No matter how pretty it is.

You wonder how easy it will be to break her this time.

(I HAD VIOLIN CLASS. SO I FINALLY GOT TO READ IT) LIMEEE. LIME. LIME WHEN. WHEN I GET YOU. HOLY SHIT.

AOUFHSGDHDSUSHU WHAT. OWAH. WOAHHHH.

THIS IS AMAZING??? YOU GOT HER IN ONE OH MAN. ADELEEEEE. LIME THIS IS SO GOOD. OH. I AM GOING TO BITE MY PHONE BRB/HJ WAGH I HAVE SCHOOLWORK TO DO BUT WOAH. WOAGH. HRJHDHDJ EATING THIS PUTTING THIS IN MY BRAIN CARVING IT IN THERE WOA/POS AUGHHH

may i. may i draw a small thing with some of this cuz wgagdhdjdhjdjdodjchxkdhksjs/POS!!!!!