what-the-stories-have-foretold

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

now you have to write sae’s ex!reader x rin 😔

you very much ignore rin when sae breaks up with you, not out of pettiness but just to cut off everything that brings you pain associated with him, that unfortunately included sae's little brother, too.

you know rin has a crush on you, even before you dated sae.

he doesn't stop uncharacteristically bothering you though, and soon enough you let him in, gently, reluctant every step of the way.

it starts with the sweet tarts at the bakery he knows you like, then it's picking you up from locations when you have no way home and no one will let you crash at theirs. his familiar sea–blue eyes suddenly stop feeling so agonising every time you look at them, as if your brain is finally seeing the difference between their owners and how they carry them.

then, it’s going out, just to get coffee–to catch up, ask him how he feels about getting closer and closer to becoming the world's best striker.

and then it's when you find out sae's dating the girl he always told you not to worry about; his fresh new instagram story blowing up, his head on her shoulder as they watch the april fireworks.

that's when rin's shoes are messily placed outside your house, his coat quickly discarded on the floor as he takes your crumpled form on the couch in his arms.

he thinks you cried for hours, you've never sobbed this much, not even when sae broke up with you. he guesses the betrayal is worse, and all he does is awkwardly hold you, too scared to let go in case you break any more.

but you slowly heal. and rin doesn't talk to sae for a long time–and maybe it's because he's too focused on you. rin can only describe the light coming back to your eyes like a fresh breath of air, crisp and light in the lungs. he adores your laugh–as much as you call it ugly, to him he can only describe it like wind chimes, soundful and sweet. he wonders if you've ever looked at him like this before, or it's something new blossoming, something you or him don't realise yet.

it's a cold autumn morning when sae comes back alone, his suitcase heavy, the sound of it scraping against the pavement deafening.

he gets to the bridge of his childhood memories before his tired eyes widen at the sudden sight in front of him.

your nimble fingers fixing rin's scarf, your nose, cheeks and lips rosie from the kissing cold like he remembers. your lips are moving, maybe singing whatever song was playing in the wired earphones you were sharing together. rin holds his eyes on your face, observing you like you hung the moon and the stars, ever something close to how you used to look at him.

rin leans down to capture your lips with his, slow and sugary, and sae thinks he finally realises what he's lost.

Quandaledlnglepink © 2025

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

HOSHINA. — TAKE 02. (cont. TAKE 01.)

You knew this wasn’t going to go well, but it was going far worse than you had anticipated.

“You’re what?” Narumi asked you to repeat yourself while having heard you perfectly fine the first time.

“I’ve started dating Vice-Captain Hoshina, so would you be able to issue another key to my room,” you asked again.

“Absolutely not,” he replied, face fuming.

“Oh, please, surely you can make it happen!” you said, certain that the issue was less the administrative issue of issuing an extra key, but rather the fact that it was Hoshina you were dating.

“Why are you dating him?” he asked, terribly annoyed.

“Why not!” you exclaimed. “He’s so sweet!”

Narumi immediately faked a barf at your comment and started listing all the reasons why you shouldn’t date him and how you should break up with him immediately, to which you promptly rejected all of them. The other day, Hoshina had given you a spare key to his place and it had absolutely made your day. Since you didn’t have any roommates currently, you wanted to do the same, but you had a hunch it wasn’t going to happen. You had left his office with a sigh and went back to your room.

Yet, perhaps it was the way your face lit up whenever you saw Hoshina, or the way you’d speak so highly of him, or perhaps even the way you’d look a little glum when the first division was a little too busy for you too see him that caught someone’s eye, but there was a little surprise waiting in your mailbox a week later. A small envelope with a familiar key inside. Your relationship seemed to be approved of.

500 blurb fest !

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

there’s something so .. deeply beautiful about the scene where shigaraki finds himself in the vision sequence during the PLW arc.

when tomura sees hana first & makes sure to remind her that he doesn’t blame nor hold a grudge against her for telling their father that he found the picture of their grandmother, when in actuality, his sister unearthed the picture. he makes sure to say this with a small on his face as people are often perceptive to facial expressions when trying to see if one is telling the truth. he does this because he understands that during their childhood, hana was a victim as well. if kotaro didn’t beat tenko, he would’ve beat hana for going through his stuff.

when he sees his mother, she’s larger than life. this is unlike hana’s vestige which remained the size that she was when he accidentally killed her. tenko viewed nao as the center of his universe so her size reflects that. instantly when he realizes it’s her, he regresses to his child form. even when he had already accidentally killed mon & hana, nao still attempted to hug him to pacify her baby. hearing his mom ask if he’s okay healed a deep part of his grief that he ended up blocking out because he couldn’t move past killing his family.

his love for his mother & sister is completely unconditional. despite everything. he would probably pick them to be his mom and sister all over again.

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

pillow talk ✮ tomura shigaraki

✮ includes : fem! reader, fluff, established relationship, & yearning shigaraki.

✮ synopsis: falling asleep on him

Boyfriend!Tomura, who stiffened like a porcelain doll the moment you fell asleep on him the first time—completely unsure what to do with any of his body in that moment other than to stare at you

Boyfriend!Tomura, who gently rests a palm on your side after a few minutes of you curling yourself into his side, relaxing after you began snoring—pride bubbling deep within him once it hit him that you feel comfortable and safe with him

Boyfriend!Tomura, who doesn't know how it happened, always ends up tangled with you whenever you fall asleep on him, letting himself feel pathetic and in love. Your bodies will find a way to twist and tangle themselves together once you fall asleep on him.

Boyfriend!Tomura, who silently watches you sleep sometimes, like it's his favorite film, the way your eyes flutter, your nose twitches, and small half-spoken, half-snored babbles break through. He'll always find peace in your presence—even if you aren't awake.

Boyfriend!Tomura, who makes the entire league shut up if you fall asleep on him in the bar—silently swearing to seek vengeance on any soul that bothers you. Putting up with Toga watching like a hawk over the booth walls.

Boyfriend!Tomura, who stays as still as possible whenever you fall asleep on him in bed, as if he's worried his breathing will be enough for you to roll away & not sleep with him anymore

Boyfriend!Tomura, who feels like a pillow in his own way. While his skin isn't soft, or plush flesh, or muscular, he feels almost like home the moment your head leans against him, like a sleeping potion.

Boyfriend!Tomura, who's the best pillow you can ever get. He's quiet and soft in his own way, tender in the way he leaves soft touches while waiting for you to wake, calm as you snore his eardrums away, & protective of you—but he's him, and that's much better than synthetic, feather, or fluff.

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

Like to charge reblog to cast

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

You hadn’t expected to spend your night crying to your captain, but here you were.

You’d called him while outside a bar.

“Cap,” you slurred. “Hey, how you’re feeling? Good?”

Your words were choppy and uncoordinated. He’d only heard you like this when you’d been given a bunch of pain meds after a bad injury.

“Hey, you alright?” John’s voice was calm and collected like always.

“Captain, John,” you murmured. “Can you drive?”

He chuckled. “Yeah, I can. You need a ride?”

You slumped onto the concrete outside the bar. “Uhhhh,” you hummed. “Sure. Can you come toooooooo-“

Your voice tapered off.

“I’m on my way,” he said. “Stay where you are, ok?”

You did stay there, smoking a cigarette when John pulled up.

“Alright, c’mon, pet,” he grunted as he hoisted you up. “Just gotta get in the car.”

Once you were in the car, after much difficulty mind you, John got in the driver’s seat.

The next time you were fully conscious, you were laying on John’s couch sobbing.

“I’m just so tired all the time,” you hiccuped.

John ran his fingers through your hair. “Mhm,” he hummed.

“And sometimes- I’m just- I’m just like-“ you kept crying, now unintelligible.

“Hush, dove,” he cooed. “John’s here, take a breath.”

You managed to sit up a bit, and curl yourself up on his lap. He didn’t push you away, instead holding you close to him and kissing your head.

“You can sleep, baby,” he said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

You woke up the next morning with a killer headache, wrapped up tightly in John’s arms.

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

gilbert hates me btw i got like 6 five stars and not a single gil 🥺

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

There was a reply on that last post (which I have deleted, so don't go looking) asking why I want to defend pedophilia, and I think the crux of the issue is that i don't think fanfiction is pedophilia

The reason why pedophilia is such a shocking thing to think about and such a strong taboo across cultures is because it can result in the harm of children.

No child is harmed when someone types words on a screen and posts those words to the internet.

Now, I have no idea about the real life habits of the person who did the writing and the posting - I admit that. But neither does anyone else. That person could be a criminal, but it's much more likely they're a teenager writing a fantasy about an older actor/character they have a crush on. Or someone grappling with what was done to them when they were a child. Or someone who enjoys the sensation of being horrified and writes horrific stories because of that. Or a bunch of other types of people who have other reasons all their own.

Writing about sex (even sex you find absolutely horrific and vile) is not the same as having sex or committing rape. Writing about murder is not the same thing as actually killing someone. Writing about being drunk is not the same thing as chugging down a mickey of whiskey. I once wrote a story about waltzing and I've barely ever danced in my life.

The reason why people like me make a distinction between stories and real life is because the people in stories (even if those stories are about real people!) are only as real as the Barbies I played with when I was a kid. I used to smoosh their faces together to make them kiss. I'm doing the same thing with characters, and the smooshing is happening with words instead of dolls, but it amounts to the same thing.

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

go my blue lockers pt. 2

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

All who live in EU please read this article!

The European Union is going against online privacy by trying to pass a bill in october where AI will monitor all your texts before sending them! Even encrypted ones! If you don’t have the time to read it fully at least read the basic explanation and the what to do part. Our privacy depends on it!

Also please reblog this or post the link to your own blog to make it reach as many as possible!

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

Toby whos a victim of a women’s touch when his S/O moved in. Throw pillows fuzzy pink blankets cinnamon candles making the previously Metallic smell disappear completely learning that yes you do have to wash your sheets and couch cushions covers regularly especially when you run around the woods and murder people for a living bath salts and his 3 in 1 mysteriously disappearing and replaced with his own individual shampoo conditioner and body wash

LOVE IT. I’m under the assumption that toby could never keep the fact that he got a girlfriend a secret because it’s just written all over him

knotted dirt caked hair? now it’s freshly washed and brushed through almost every day. bloodstained clothes? not anymore! bc his girl knows just the trick to get the stains out!

keeps his stubble cleaned up, always has fresh bandages on as opposed to frayed crusty ones. Suddenly starts smelling nicer 🤨🤨 like when tf did you start using actual cologne instead of the half empty bottle of axe you found in a dumpster??

he loves it too. he had just sorta grown used to living in… grime lmfao. very boy brained. would just get home, kick his muddy boots off and huck his hatchets at the nearest wall before collapsing into bed. no shower. blood, dirt, and whatever the fuck else on his sheets. but, it worked, and he had way too much else on his plate to actually think of a better way to live

but then youuuuu move in <3 immediately go ‘yeah, absolutely not’ and rewrite his entire living space.

but it’s cool because the fuzzy pink comforter you bought feels so much nicer than the thin ass sheets he used to sleep under. he sleeps like a goddamn baby now. matching slippers with you, smelling like lavender because you picked out his shampoo. not realizing that the smell of blood really isn’t great because he went noseblind to it so long ago, but now when he gets home and the entire space smells like whatever candle you’re burning - it makes his entire body relax almost immediately

he picks up on habits well. leaves his muddy boots outside, beelines it to the shower and gets changed so that he doesn’t track blood all over the place like he used to. actually learns how to properly wash things lmfao

not an uncommon sight to find him curled up on the couch in a big fuzzy blanket with a candle burning beside him and a steaming mug of tea in his hands after a mission.

like, oh shit? this could be life? sign him up

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

one day i'll be a dm one day i'll be playing dnd one da

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

Can you PLEASE do a hc with the creeps reacting to reader kissing them everywhere after they came home exhausted ☺️☺️

✦ . JEFF THE KILLER

He storms in like he always does—messy hair, blood under his nails, the usual chaos vibrating under his skin.

You don’t even speak. Just take his face in your hands and kiss his jaw, his cheeks, the corner of his mouth. A kiss to the scar. His temple. His eyelids.

His smirk fades.

“…The hell are you doing?”

But his voice goes soft. Almost shaky.

His shoulders relax like he’s melting right into your touch. He won’t ask for more, but when your hands trail lower and you kiss the bruises on his arms, he closes his eyes and exhales like he’s finally, finally safe.

Whispers, “You’re gonna ruin me, y’know that?”

✦ . TICCI TOBY

He’s jittering, twitchy, worn from missions and overstimulation. The moment he slumps on the couch, you crawl into his lap and start kissing over his hoodie, his face, his fingertips.

At first, he’s laughing breathlessly. “Babe—what—what’s gotten into you?”

But then he stills.

You kiss his scarred neck. His shoulder. His hands, trembling as they hold you back. His body stops ticking. His stutter stops mid-word. And it’s quiet.

He clings to you. His head drops to your chest.

“D-Don’t stop. Please.”

✦ . EYELESS JACK

He’s exhausted. Blood-slick gloves still on. You help him clean up, wordlessly, then pull him to bed and begin pressing kisses all over his arms, his throat, his ribs.

He flinches at first. “You shouldn’t touch me like this.”

But you hush him, and he lets it happen.

Your lips against the scar tissue on his shoulder. His claws. His maskless cheek. He trembles. Something inhuman in him tries to pull away—but the man in him stays.

“You’re… very gentle,” he whispers.

He stays with you all night.

✦ . MASKY (TIM WRIGHT)

He comes in grumbling, his coat half-off, covered in dirt and dried blood. Doesn’t even get a “hi” before you’re kissing over his shirt, tugging the mask off, brushing your lips across his frown lines.

“Jesus Christ—what’s this for?”

But his voice is low, husky. He likes it. A lot.

You kiss the inside of his wrist. His neck. His chest, through the fabric. His tension bleeds out of him slowly. He catches your jaw, rubs his thumb over your cheek.

“…You got no idea what you do to me.”

✦ . HOODIE (BRIAN THOMAS)

He’s silent. Always is after missions. But his shoulders are slumped when he walks in. The job went bad. His mind’s worse.

He doesn’t say a word when you kiss his throat. The bridge of his nose. His chest, after pulling down the collar of his hoodie.

The trembling in his hands stops. His breathing steadies. He doesn’t talk—but you feel it in the way he holds you tighter. In the way he presses a forehead to yours and just stays there.

Letting your affection carry all the weight he can’t put into words.

✦ . KATE THE CHASER

She comes back gritting her teeth. Bruised knuckles, dried blood, soaked hoodie. She tries to walk past you—until you grab her wrist and kiss her palm.

She goes stiff. “What’re you doing?”

Then you pull her onto the couch and start kissing up her arms. Her throat. Her jaw, her temple, her chapped lips.

Kate’s eyes flutter shut.

She exhales like she hasn’t in hours. Drops her weapons. Drops the act. Lets herself lean into you, whispering,

“…Keep doing that, and I might not ever leave again.”

✦ . BEN DROWNED

He comes back from the digital, looking drained. Like something fed on his code for hours. You drag him to the couch and kiss him like he’s real, kiss every inch of him—forehead, ears, his neck under his hoodie.

“Hey… this is new,” he teases, weakly.

But you keep going. Kiss his knuckles. His temple. The corner of his mouth.

Ben leans into it like a cat. Practically purring.

“You’re gonna short-circuit me if you keep this up.”

He starts glitching on purpose just to scare you so you’ll hold him longer.

✦ . CLOCKWORK

She barges in like always—sarcastic, defensive, all bark.

You don’t say a thing. Just cup her face and kiss the side with the clock first. Then her cheek. Her pulse. Her scarred knuckles.

She freezes.

“…What’s this, your way of flirting?”

But her voice is quiet. Like she doesn’t want to ruin it. When you get to her shoulder, her collarbone—she exhales. All the tension evaporates.

And when you whisper, “You deserve softness too.”

She hides her face in your neck and says, “…Don’t say that or I’ll cry.”

✦ . LAUGHING JACK

He crashes in loud, coated in glitter and fake blood, talking a mile a minute—until you pin him down on the bed and start kissing him.

You kiss the bridge of his nose. His ink-slicked jaw. His sharp shoulders and the stripes on his arms.

“Oh, you’re really gonna make me blush,” he teases, voice fluttery. “Keep going. This is the best show I’ve had in ages.”

But when you kiss his chest and say, “You’re home now.”

He stills. And then his arms wrap around you, tight. Too tight.

No more jokes. Just a whisper: “…You always make me feel at home again.”

✦ . SLENDERMAN

He doesn’t get tired like mortals do, but today, he feels… distant. Unmoored. Reality dragging at the edges.

You don’t care. You cup his face—whatever form it’s in—and press soft, grounding kisses. His cheek. His shoulder. Over his ribs and arms.

He goes deathly still.

“Your affection is… bewildering,” he says. But his voice is fond. You keep going. Kissing his hand. His chest. His sharp angles, softening under your touch.

He cradles you like something holy.

“If I could dream,” he murmurs, “I imagine this would be in every one.”

꩜ .ᐟ

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

being anti ai is making me feel like in going insane. "you asked for thoughts about your characters backstory and i put it into chat gpt for ideas". studies have proven its making people dumber. "i asked ai to generate this meal plan". its causing water shortages where its data centers are built. "ill generate some pictures for the dnd campaign". its spreading misinformation. "meta, generate an image of this guy doing something stupid". its trained off stolen images, writing, video, audio. "i was talking with my snapchat ai-" theres no way to verify what its doing with the information it collects. "youtube is impletmenting ai based age verification". my work has an entire graphics media department and has still put ai generated motivational posters up everywhere. ai playlists. ai facial verification. google ai microsoft ai meta ai snapchat ai. everyone treats it as a novelty. every treats it as a mandatory part of life. am i the only one who sees it? am i paranoid? am i going insane? jesus fucking christ. if i have to hear one more "well at least-" "but it does-" "but you can-" im about to lose it. i shouldnt have to jump through hoops to avoid the evil machine. have you no principles? no goddamn spine? am i the weird one here?

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

Hey. I think I hate you.

[what-the-stories-have-foretold]

i seriously think the fanfics turning into published books & describing of published books as if they are fanfic is what has made both published books worse and also made people have higher standards for fanfic. fanfic is supposed to be just a little bit of fun and published books are supposed to not suck dare i say. they should for the most part not be comparable imo largely because fanfic is based on an existing world with existing characters so there's context that doesn't need to be described in the fic