#do you know what it is to be 13 and grocery shopping with your mom and struggling to keep your composure because love story started playing

[starryluminary]

I'm skimming an old noco fanfiction from 2010 and rereading the part where Taylor Swift shows up as a special guest to sing Love Story on Valentines Day which Noah and Cody have their first real kiss to and. This might have been the beginning of the enabling of my fix on Taylor Swift

#the fix did not start when I read this fic but Love Story has never truly been the same since I read it #there are so many pieces of my life where Taylor Swifts music was there and holding my hand through it and this was a very significant piec #do you know what it is to be 13 and grocery shopping with your mom and struggling to keep your composure because love story started playing #-on the speakers #god #aipomtrainer430 if this post ever comes across your dash or whatever I feel you should know you honestly changed my life with your noco fic #both this one and AMLNO #thank you for liking noco and being a writer in 2010 #total drama #taylor swift #Starry speaks #starry gets teary eyed reminiscing their middle school days

[babybluebex]

Hi! Congrats on 13k that’s insane!! I have an angsty Eddie idea. I know people tend to headcanon that is Mother is dead. But what if she just left when he was little? Could we please please pleaseee see what would happen if adult Eddie had to find out that she was happy with another family?

UNLUCKY 13 ANGST NIGHT omg yes this is gonna be good

When you walked into the trailer that afternoon, loaded down with the required groceries to make dinner, you didn't expect to see Eddie sitting on the couch, head in his hands, sobbing heavily. Eddie was pretty open with his emotions and he cried every so often (most recently, watching an old VHS of Dumbo), but he never sobbed.

"Eddie!" you gasped, dropping the plastic shopping bags and going to him, dropping to your knees in front of him and grabbing his hands. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

Eddie sniffled, and he pulled his hands away from his face to expose his red cheeks and watery eyes. His lips were pouted out as he sobbed again, and he wordlessly grabbed a bit of crumpled paper next to him and shoved it into your hands. "Baby, what is this?" you asked, slowly unraveling the paper, and you saw a pit of printer paper with neat pen scrawl on it. Some of the ink was smudged from Eddie's tears, and you took a moment to read the contents of it.

The letter detailed a recent trip to New York City that the writer had taken, talking about everything they did and saw, and they spent a lot of time discussing what "Jim and David" did. The end of the letter implored Eddie to write back before signing off "I love you, baby, Loretta".

"Eddie, who is this?" you asked slowly. "Who's Loretta?"

"My mom," Eddie said, his voice watery. "She— She left when I was little, left me alone with my dad, and... And look! She's so happy!"

"Oh, Eds," you mumbled. "Baby, who's Jim and David?"

"My stepdad," Eddie said. "Her new husband. And Dave is my brother— half brother. He's 13. She found someone new, she replaced us, she replaced me. And she's so much happier with them than she ever was with us."

"Babe," you whispered. Eddie's voice was full of a venom that you had never heard from him before; he never spoke about his mother, and you assumed that maybe she had passed away with the infrequent amount he talked about her, but this proved that she was alive and well. "I'm so sorry."

"Whatever," Eddie mumbled, wiping his face with his hand. "Fuck her, I'm perfectly happy without her. I have you and Wayne and Hellfire, I have everything I need."

You sighed softly, and you touched his knee, setting the letter aside. "It's okay for you to want a mom, though," you told him. "To want a mom who's there for you."

"Yeah," Eddie said. "It just hurts because... She was my mom first and I feel like she forgets about me until it's convenient. Like I'm nothing but a mistake but, the moment she can brag about something and show off how good things are, I'm the first one she tells."

"That's cruel," you said. "Why do you still talk to her if she treats you like this?"

"I don't," Eddie said. "I haven't answered her letters in years but she keeps sending them. And I'm stupid and I keep reading them, even though I know it'll hurt. Last month, it was 'Oh, Jim got a promotion' and before that 'Dave was top of his class'. They're everything that my dad and I weren't, everything that Wayne and I aren't, and I just... She's a bitch. Plain and simple."

You got up on the couch and sat close to Eddie, and you cradled his head to your chest and let him cry into you. "It'll be okay, baby," you told him. "Listen, we can, like, burn this or whatever you want, okay? Fuck her; she doesn't deserve to know someone as wonderful as you anyway."

#bex answers #anon ask #bex's drabbles #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x reader

[scary-grace]

Love Like Ghosts (Chapter 6) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

You knew the empty house in a quiet neighborhood was too good to be true, but you were so desperate to get out of your tiny apartment that you didn't care, and now you find yourself sharing space with something inhuman and immensely powerful. As you struggle to coexist with a ghost whose intentions you're unsure of, you find yourself drawn unwillingly into the upside world of spirits and conjurers, and becoming part of a neighborhood whose existence depends on your house staying exactly as it is, forever. But ghosts can change, just like people can. And as your feelings and your ghost's become more complex and intertwined, everything else begins to crumble. (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13

Chapter 6

There’s something wrong with your house, but you knew that when you bought it. And to your dull human senses, what’s wrong with your house barely stands out on your street. You barely stand out on y our street anymore, either. Other people avoid this neighborhood. It’s not uncommon for everybody’s mail and packages to get dumped in a pile at the top of the street, because no postal worker wants to drive down this way if they can help it. But you’ve been here long enough now. Your neighborhood feels like home. Everybody here knows your name.

Shinsou and Hizashi are trying to start a garden, so you bring over some of your plants to help get them started. Keigo is teaching Jin to drive, and neither of them can get the hang of parallel parking, so you help out by shouting instructions from the curb as Jin tries not to murder your car or Aizawa’s while backing Keigo’s in. Sometimes you take Atsuhiro with you when you go grocery shopping, at Aizawa’s request – Atsuhiro has a shoplifting problem, and everyone else is tired of bailing him out of jail. And in the most awkward incident yet, Himiko gets her first period while Jin’s mom is at work and runs shrieking up the street to your house.

It’s your day off, but you’re in the bathroom when she arrives, so Tomura goes out onto the porch instead. Tomura’s not the person you want addressing a sensitive topic. When you finally make it out there, he’s in the middle of speculating that the unexplained blood loss means Himiko is going to die.

She looks close to tears, and you decide to address the biggest problem first. “You’re not going to die,” you tell her. Then you turn to Tomura. “And you – get out of here. This is girl stuff.”

Usually the threat of girl stuff banishes Tomura pretty quickly, but he doesn’t move. “Humans die from blood loss.”

“This isn’t that kind of blood loss. Shoo.”

Himiko ghost-blinks up at you through teary eyes. “It’s not?”

You shake your head. “It’s normal. Have you been feeling okay these last few days?”

“My stomach hurts. Since Friday.” Himiko’s mouth turns down at the corners. “Ochako at school says I’ve been mean.”

PMS is bad enough when you know it’s coming, but Himiko’s a former ghost, and her favorite human is a guy. She’s probably never seen this before. “Okay,” you say. “You should probably ask Jin’s mom more about this when she gets home. This is kind of a mom thing. But you’re not dying. You just got your period. It’s normal.”

“For humans.”

“Yep.

“Do you have one?”

“Not right now,” you say. You feel a little weird talking about this in front of Tomura. “Every month, though. I’m going to give you some pads to take with you, and you can borrow my heating pad. I’d invite you in, but –”

“Tomura’s a boy and he’s gross.”

“Hey!”

“Right,” you say, ignoring him. “Just a second.”

You duck back inside, pick up an unopened package of pads, and retrieve your heating pad from the medicine cabinet. When you get back to the porch, Tomura’s still there. He and Himiko are staring at each other. Neither of them are making a sound, but you get the sense that they’re talking. Spinner said the ghosts say weird things when they talk to each other, but he must have been eavesdropping on a conversation out loud. You’ve got no idea what Himiko and Tomura are saying to each other, and you have to clear your throat twice before either of them turn their attention back to you. And when they do, their expressions are different than you’d expect. Tomura looks uncomfortable, defensive. Himiko, still a little teary-eyed, looks pleased with herself. Why?

Whatever it is, you’ll have more luck getting it out of Tomura than her. “Here are the pads,” you say, holding them out. “You probably won’t go through them too fast, and when your mom gets back she can help you pick some out. And the heating pad is good for cramps. Put it on your stomach or your lower back, whichever feels worse.”

“Okay.” Himiko wipes her eyes, then smiles at you. “You’re nice. Are you old enough to be a mom?”

“I mean, probably?” A few of your friends from college have kids now. “Not old enough to be your mom, though. Why?”

“No reason.” Himiko turns and makes her way down the porch steps, staggering a bit like you do when you get hit with a bad cramp. “Thanks.”

“If you need anything else before your mom comes back, come over,” you say. You wait until she’s out of sight, then turn your attention to Tomura. “What was that about?”

“She asked if I like you like a mom.” Tomura looks like he wants to hurl. “I said no, and then she asked if I like you like she likes Jin, or like Eri likes Shinsou.”

“And you said no?”

“I said yes,” Tomura says, and your heart sinks – but only for a second. “The little brat can still read auras. She knew I was lying.”

It’s on the tip of your tongue to ask him what he lied about, but then you realize you already know. Himiko eliminated two of the three varieties of ghost-human relationships in the neighborhood – sibling-sibling and parent-child. That leaves two options, neither of which you like. Either Tomura likes you the way Hizashi likes Aizawa and Dabi used to like Keigo, or he doesn’t like you at all.

You should leave it. You should drop the topic and back away slowly. Instead you open your mouth. “Why did you lie to her?”

“What I do with my human is none of her business. Or anyone else’s.” Tomura is dematerializing. Now he’s just a voice and a pair of hands gripping the porch railing so hard that you’re worried it’ll snap. “Go away.”

Fine. You tell yourself it’s fine, that you’ll go, but your feet stay stubbornly planted until your phone rings from somewhere inside the house and you have to go back to retrieve it. Aizawa’s calling, and when you pick up, he starts talking without greeting you first. “Your job gives you access to public records. I’m going to give you a list of names.”

“I can’t just –”

Aizawa starts reading them off, proving that the ghosts aren’t the only ones in the neighborhood who can be assholes in the bargain, and you scramble for a pen and a piece of paper. Phantom is prodding you in the ankle with her snout, looking for a treat. “Hang on a second,” you snap at Aizawa. “I need to write this down.”

A piece of paper skids across the counter towards you, followed by a pen. “Thanks,” you say to Tomura. Then, to Aizawa: “Start at the beginning. The first name was?”

There are seven names on the list. They’re all men’s names. “I want all the information you can find,” Aizawa says. “As quickly as you can find it.”

“This is public record,” you complain. “Make a records request. This is my job. I’m not going to get in trouble just so you can avoid some paperwork.”

“It’s not the paperwork,” Aizawa says flatly. “If I make that request, my name and address become public. You’re the only one in the neighborhood who can look without giving us away.”

The neighborhood. You thought this was just some project of Aizawa’s, but – “Who are these people?”

“That’s what you need to find out,” Aizawa says. “As soon as possible.”

He hangs up the phone without saying thank you, and you look down at the piece of paper and the names you scribbled. Your handwriting is bad. You need to recopy them. “So that’s it?” Tomura says from the other side of the kitchen. He’s barely an outline. “Aizawa calls and you jump to it? Pathetic.”

You ignore him. What he says, at least. “Do you know any of these names?”

“Why would I know them?”

“Just look.” You hold out the list, and Tomura drifts across the kitchen to investigate. “I don’t know why he wants me to look these up. He made it sound really important. Do any of these look familiar?”

“No.” Tomura’s hand materializes fully, plucks the list out of your grip, and sets it down on the counter. “I wasn’t done with you.”

“You told me to go away,” you say. “I listened.”

It’s like you didn’t speak at all. The rest of Tomura materializes, from the tips of his fingers upward, until he’s standing before you, closer than he’s gotten in a while. “You asked me what I want. I know now.”

You can’t remember ever putting that question to him – according to Aizawa, asking ghosts open-ended questions like that is a really bad idea. But because you’re you, and you’re stupid, you ask it again. “What do you want, Tomura?”

A pair of cold hands close on your waist. Tomura pulls you forward so hard that you stumble, falling against his chest. “You’re mine,” he says. “I want you.”

A jolt goes straight down your spine. You’ve heard that note in his voice once before and imagined it a thousand times over, but hearing it again right now feels like a disaster. “Be specific,” you say, looking anywhere but up into his face. “What specifically do you –”

One hand leaves your waist to press against your jaw, forcing you to turn your head and look up. A moment later Tomura’s lips crash down against yours.

He kisses exactly the way you’d expect him to kiss, the way of someone who’s seen it in movies but never asked anyone how it’s done. Mouth closed, all pressure, nothing else. He’s not going to let you go, so you hold still, hoping Tomura will take some kind of hint that it’s not going as plan. Tomura stops and draws back, frowning. “You aren’t doing it back.”

“I can’t when you’re doing it like that,” you say. “You’re doing it wrong.”

“I’m not doing it wrong. You’re doing it wrong.”

“Hey. I’ve kissed somebody before. You’ve just watched it on TV.” You feel Tomura’s grip on you loosen slightly. This is your chance to escape, to tell him that you’re not interested, to threaten to move out if he ever tries this again and maybe mean it. “It’s more fun if you do it right.”

Tomura looks at you suspiciously. “How do I do it right?”

Some part of your mind that’s still sane, that still exists in the real world instead of the twisted upside-down haunt of your house and your neighborhood, is screaming for you to stop, but it’s fading fast. You let it go. You free your hands from where they’re trapped at your sides and frame Tomura’s face with them. “I’ll show you.”

You start with a gentle kiss, mouth closed but soft, and because Tomura’s an asshole, he starts arguing even before you’ve pulled away. “That’s what I did.”

“No, you did it too hard.” You kiss him the same way again, trying to get the point across. “You can still talk when I do it like this, which means you can respond.”

Tomura’s scowling now, but he leans in to kiss you again, and this time the pressure is significantly less. His lips are chapped. You part your lips against his, catching on his lower lip, and he startles. You wonder if anybody else in the neighborhood had to teach their undersocialized ghost how to kiss properly. Probably not.

Tomura’s fatal flaw with kissing is overenthusiasm. As soon as he figures out that opening his mouth is a thing he can do, he overdoes it. The only reason it’s not horrendous is because his mouth tastes like nothing, and it’s almost sandpaper-dry. You let go of his face, put your hands on his shoulders, and give a few shoves until he pulls back. “No.”

“I like it,” Tomura says defiantly. He does. That patchy flush is all over his face. “I don’t care if you do.”

“You should,” you say, and you fall back on a negotiating tactic from forever ago. “If you’re good at it, I’ll want to kiss you more.”

You’ve tried this tactic on human men before. Human men usually convince themselves that you’re playing hard to get and go right back to the vacuum-cleaner technique they were using. But Tomura looks like he’s thinking about it, so you try to sweeten the deal. “I’ll show you,” you say, and he’s already leaning in.

Part of you is still aware that this is a mistake. You won’t be able to turn back the clock on this incident the way you could with the last one. You can’t pretend that this is all for Tomura, that it’s got nothing to do with you, when you’re the one who won’t settle for less than a good kiss. You’re the one who keeps trying to get a reaction out of him, trying to put him back at the mercy of his body just like he was before, and there’s something heady and intoxicating about the fact that it’s working. Tomura’s breathing comes in sharp gasps, and yours isn’t doing much better – but it’s normal for you. “Why do you do that?” you ask, pulling away. Tomura lets out a frustrated whine and leans in again, but you stay just out of reach. “Breathing like that. You don’t need to breathe.”

“I can’t – help it.” Tomura’s shoulders heave beneath your hands. He claws at your hips, trying to pull you back. “Come on. I need it. I need it. I can’t go back like this.”

You’re still out of kissing range, but your hips are locked against his, and you can feel that he’s hard. It surprises you, although it shouldn’t. You got to him before by touching his hand. This is a lot more stimulation than that. You study him, your heart racing, taking in his dilated pupils, his flushed face. The scars over his lip and eye stand out in sharp relief. His skin is shiny, sweaty. You were right in all your daydreams about how desire looks on him. It looks good.

It looks good, and he looks desperate. “Don’t stare at me. Why are you staring at me?”

“You’re pretty,” you say without thinking. You lean in and kiss him again before he can complain about it.

The plan is to keep kissing him until he comes and dematerializes, but you like the sounds he’s making too much to keep muffling them. You duck away from his kiss and start kissing his neck instead, lips moving over the same spot he usually scratches. “Hey,” Tomura complains. “What are you doing? I – ah –”

He grinds against you, groans, and you realize you have a problem. You’re at least as turned on as Tomura is, only you can’t get off from just a kiss. He gets to dematerialize as soon as he comes, and after that you’ll be stuck. You decide that’s a problem for later. You’re busy. A second after you have that thought, Tomura loses patience. He pushes you back against the counter, pinning you in place as his hips jerk in brief, unpracticed thrusts. You keep kissing his neck. If he was human, he’d be walking around with love bites. That thought shouldn’t turn you on, but it does, and it occurs to you that Tomura’s possessiveness runs the other way, too. You’re his human, sure. But he’s nobody’s ghost but yours.

“I can’t,” Tomura gasps. He’s starting to dematerialize. “I can’t. Not yet –”

If he dematerializes while he’s still turned on, the entire street’s going to be pissed off at you for however long it takes him to materialize again. You back off from kissing Tomura’s neck and kiss his mouth again, as he moans and struggles for air he doesn’t need. Suddenly his back arches, pinning you harder than before, and you hold on tight as he shudders. It doesn’t matter how tightly you hold onto him. He’s already dematerializing, slipping away, just like you knew he would. The warm air rushes in once he’s gone.

One of the perks of having a ghost in the house is that the house is never too warm. Now, with said ghost too zapped to materialize, it’s way too warm in the kitchen, and even that isn’t enough to change how ridiculously turned on you are. You could stick your head in the refrigerator and try to calm down, but the idea of doing that pisses you off. Tomura got to get off to your weird but still hot kitchen makeout. So should you.

Some sense of propriety motivates you not to just stick your hand down your pants in the kitchen. You make your way to your bedroom upstairs, and this time, you settle onto the bed instead of the floor. This time, you don’t have to go to your imagination for something to fantasize to. You’ve got the memory of the absolute mess that occurred in the kitchen to keep you focused, and honestly, you’re so shamefully hot over it that you barely need to fantasize at all.

Your mind floods with a replay of the insistent pressure of Tomura’s mouth against yours, the uneven roll of his hips, and remembering the needy sounds he made makes your muscles clench tight in response. You have both hands between your legs, one teasing your clit while the other presses two fingers inside, crooking at an angle that’s never easy to reach on your own. If somebody else, somebody with longer fingers, somebody poised above you or settled between your legs – once you let that thought into your mind, it’s all over. You come so fast you’re almost embarrassed by it. Almost.

You’re lying on your bed, catching your breath, when the temperature of your room begins to change. Tomura’s voice, barely a whisper, snakes through the air. “I saw that.”

Your face heats up, but you’re already flushed, so it doesn’t matter. “So?”

“I want that next time.”

You’re not sure how you feel about Tomura’s assumption that there’s going to be a next time. But there’s a bigger problem. “Based on what I felt this time, you don’t really have the equipment for that.”

“Don’t be stupid. I want you to do this next time when I do.” The temperature of the room settles into the low chill you’ve become familiar with, but the cold spot itself is on the bed next to you, inching closer. “Or I can do it.”

You can’t think about that. Not right now, anyway. “Nobody’s doing anything right now. I don’t even want to know what you already drained to make this happen.” A terrible thought occurs to you. “Phantom! Where –”

“Don’t be stupid,” Tomura says again. You can hear Phantom scratching at the door and whining. She knows you and Tomura are both in here and she wants to know why she’s being left out. “I wouldn’t touch her. I used some plants.”

“Not the ones –”

“Not the ones you like.” If Tomura was materialized, he’d be rolling his eyes. “They all look the same anyway.”

“They don’t all look the same.” You sit up and swing your legs off the bed. “Stupid.”

Tomura makes an indignant sound, but you ignore him as you head to the bathroom to wash your hands. You’d expect things to be weird, so it’s a surprise to you how normal things feel. Normal except for the fact that Tomura’s in your room instead of lurking somewhere else in the house. So normal, in fact, that you find yourself dealing with a problem you’ve had since you found out you had a ghost. “You’re still not allowed in the bathroom when I’m in here.”

“You’re not even doing anything!”

You know you’re going to have to deal with the fallout from the kitchen makeout later. But it’ll be a while before Tomura can materialize again, and until that happens, you’re not going to think about it at all. “I don’t care. Get out.”

You were hoping you dealt with Tomura fast enough that none of the other adult ghosts caught on, but you’re not that lucky. When you leave the house the next morning to get in your car for the drive to work, Hizashi’s right out front on the sidewalk, holding a jar of fresh bugs as far from his body as humanly possible. When he sees you, he pushes it into your hands and backs away. “You know,” he says, and winks. “For later.”

You cringe and duck into your car, but a moment later, Keigo calls out to you from across the street. “Hey, can I get a ride to work? My car’s out of commission.”

“It looks okay,” you say – and then you realize it’s noticeably sinking on one side. “The tires.”

“Yep. Do you mind?”

“Nope.” You move your work bag to the backseat to make room, and look back up front just in time for a balled-up piece of paper to hit the windshield. It could only have come from one direction, and when you look up, you spot Tomura on the porch, barely materialized. “What was that?”

“Your dumb list.”

“The one Shou gave you?” Hizashi still hasn’t left, and he watches you closely as you pull the piece of paper into the car and un-crumple it. “Good. Let him know as soon as you find anything.”

“Sorry. Gotta move.” Keigo eases past Hizashi and hops into the passenger seat. You start the car and back out into the street a little faster than necessary.

You’re driving fast, but not fast enough to get past Spinner’s house before Magne steps out the front door. She waves at you, smirking, and gives a thumbs-up. You wave back, still cringing, and Keigo notices. He reclines his seat with a yawn. “Big night, huh?”

You hit your head against the steering wheel when you reach the stop sign at the top of the street. “Does everybody know?”

“Probably. He’s too powerful. Every time his mood changes, the whole street feels it.” Keigo shrugs. “Also, your whole front lawn is dead.”

You didn’t even notice. “Great,” you mumble. “Think he’ll tone it down if I ask him to?”

“You know him better than me,” Keigo says. He yawns a second time. “He seems like he cares about what you want. He made sure you didn’t forget your list when you left. Dabi, for comparison, snuck out of the house and slashed my tires before I woke up. You definitely got the better ghost.”

“Sorry about your tires,” you say, for lack of anything better. Keigo shrugs again. “Can I ask you about the list? Aizawa was cagey about it on the phone.”

“Sure.” Keigo spends a few minutes smoothing out the wrinkles in the piece of paper. You sneak looks at him out of the corner of your eye, and you don’t miss the way his eyes widen. “I don’t know most of these names. I know this one, though – Garaki Kyudai. He’s a conjurer. Touya’s conjurer.”

“What?” You stare at Keigo once you’re safely at a stoplight. “Touya’s conjurer is alive?”

“Most of them are,” Keigo says. He looks pale. “If Aizawa and Hizashi have that name, they know something we don’t.”

“Then they should tell us,” you say. Keigo looks worried. You’re not worried, maybe because you don’t know enough to be worried, maybe because Tomura didn’t recognize any of the names on the list. “Aizawa and Hizashi don’t get to hide things from the rest of us just because they’re the oldest.”

Keigo nods. “Do the research they asked for. Today,” he says. “Don’t give it to them until they level with us.”

“Sounds good.” Us could be you and Keigo. Us could also be the entire neighborhood, which is fine. If it concerns conjurers, it concerns the entire neighborhood, and everyone should know. But this is going to involve you saying no to Aizawa, who you owe big-time, and to Hizashi, who still sort of terrifies you. “Um, so I think I’m going to wait to say no until I’m in my yard.”

“Yeah, that’s probably smart,” Keigo agrees. “Hizashi won’t get into it with Tomura. Can you imagine if Hizashi was still incorporeal, though? That would be a hell of a fight.”

“Ghosts fight?”

“Yeah, big-time. Dabi’s old house – the one I moved into, like a moron – had a bunch of ghosts in it. It got crazy in there.”

Sharing a house with one ghost is chaotic enough. You can’t imagine a house with multiple ghosts, let alone multiple ghosts who are fighting with each other. You wonder if Tomura’s ever fought another ghost, and if so, how it went. He probably hasn’t. He’s picky enough with who he lets onto the property to begin with. No way he’d let another ghost in just to fight.

You park your car in the lot at the courthouse, and you and Keigo go your separate ways – you to the public defenders’ office in the courthouse’s lower levels, Keigo to the police station. He’s a social worker, not a cop, and he usually goes out on mental health calls. The two of you plan to meet after work, go over what you found, and book it into your respective houses once you get back to the neighborhood to minimize the chances that Aizawa or Hizashi will corner you. It’s only nine am on Monday and you’re already tired.

You didn’t sleep well last night. Part of it was still being sort of turned on and not being able to do anything about – not now that you know Tomura’s watching. And Tomura was watching. He’s been leaving you alone at night for the most part, but last night he was back to hanging out in the corner of your room. At least, you think he stayed in the corner of your room. At some point you woke up shivering, and you could have sworn he was on the bed with you, draped over you in some weird position that humans definitely don’t sleep in. But that could have been a dream. You’re hoping it was a dream. You don’t know what you’ll do if it wasn’t.

You’ve got no idea what Tomura thinks is going on between the two of you. He didn’t talk to you this morning. He usually doesn’t – you’re busy, and he doesn’t like it when you multitask while talking to him, and after you explained what will happen if you can’t pay your mortgage he’s stopped interfering with you going to work. But he was there. You could feel him there, shadowing your every move, close in a way that would be impossible to work around if he was human. Something’s changed in your relationship, and he wanted it that way. You can’t pretend you didn’t want it, too. But as you make coffee and take off your coat and go through your inbox, you realize you have no idea what you’ll be walking into when you get home.

You know you’ll be walking into it with the information Aizawa asked you to gather, though. You take the list out of your pocket and think things through. Technically you could get into the records database on your own, but you’re a paralegal, not a lawyer – people will be likely to question what you’re doing in there, which means you need cover. And you know just who to go to for help. Mr. Yagi likes that you’re thorough, that you check every angle when you have the time for it. If you ask his permission to get into the database, he won’t say no. You pocket the list again, square your shoulders, throw down your coffee, and go to his office.

The door’s ajar, like usual, but you knock anyway. “Come in,” Mr. Yagi says. He’s hunched over a document on his desk, marking it up in red pen. “I hate to start your morning off with editing, but this will need to be done by noon.”

“No problem,” you say. You can type fast. “Sir, I was wondering if I could log into the records database today.”

“You don’t need my permission for that, my dear,” Mr. Yagi says without looking up. “But you have it, of course. What do you –”

He looks up at you at last and bursts into a coughing fit. It’s a bad one. You duck out into the bullpen, fill a cup from the water cooler, and race back in with it, pushing it into his hands. Mr. Yagi takes small sips, but every time he looks at you, the coughing kicks up again. Something is dawning on you, something you don’t like, something about what Mr. Yagi said and did at the housewarming party. “Sir? Is there something wrong?”

“It’s all over you,” Mr. Yagi says, and your stomach lurches. “What happened?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” you stammer. You can feel your face heating up, and it gets worse when Mr. Yagi reaches into his desk and extracts a UV light wand. “Um –”

He switches it on and pans it over you, and suddenly you understand. There are handprints. Tomura’s handprints, on your shoulders, on your waist, along your jaw, invisible without the light but in stark relief under it. You were worried that the light was going to show ghost cum splattered on your skin, even though you showered and changed clothes twice since yesterday, but this might actually be worse. This looks like you were handled. It looks like you liked it.

Could Hizashi see this, and Magne? Did Tomura do it on purpose? Now that you think about it, you’re sure he did it on purpose. He’s been possessive of you since the beginning. Of course he’d mark you as his own the first chance he got, even if the only people who can see the marks are the other ghosts. If Keigo could see them, you’re pretty sure he’d have given you a heads-up.

But Mr. Yagi could see them without the UV light. And Mr. Yagi knew Tomura was there before you did, saw Tomura before you did. You stare hard at your boss, at his eyes. His eyes are bright blue, and their pupils are round, like they should be. But there’s a faint shadow around his irises in both eyes. You realize, with another lurch in the pit of your stomach, that you’ve never seen your boss blink.

“You’re one of them,” you say. It isn’t a question.

Mr. Yagi sighs. “I’ve been human long enough that my powers have faded. The contacts are enough to hide behind. But no former spirit, no matter how distant they are from their origins, could fail to spot that.” He gestures at you and you cringe. “Were you – aware of this as it happened? Did you consent to it?”

Your eyes well up suddenly, and Mr. Yagi panics, knocking over his cup of water onto his desk. You move to mop it up while he tries to hand you tissues, and in the chaos, it takes you a while to recognize the emotion you’re feeling as shame. What happened yesterday wasn’t out of the ordinary in your neighborhood. Keigo barely blinked when he found out, and Hizashi and Magne were teasing you, not mocking you. Hooking up with a ghost is a semi-normal thing to do in the world you live in now. But it’s not normal here. The way Mr. Yagi asked the question made it clear that he thinks nobody sane would do what you did yesterday. You feel like you’re going to be sick.

Mr. Yagi gives up on the tissues and hands you a handkerchief from his pocket instead. “I will get you out of there,” he says. “You can stay with my family and I, for as long as it takes for you to find your feet. You don’t have to stay –”

“It was consensual.” You force the words out of your mouth. Somewhere in the back of your mind it occurs to you that this conversation is wildly inappropriate for work. HR-reportable levels of inappropriate for work. “I’m fine. I don’t want to leave. Can I get into the database or not?”

“If you’re fine, why are you crying?”

Because you weren’t ashamed before and now you are. “I’ll have the brief retyped by noon. The database –”

“Why do you need it?”

It crosses your mind to lie, but there’s no need. Mr. Yagi is a former ghost. If you explain, he’ll understand. You draw the list out of your pocket. “These are the names of conjurers. I think. I need to get into the database to find out everything I can about them.”

Mr. Yagi takes the list, scans it, and immediately starts coughing again. You head out to the water cooler for the second time in five minutes. By the time you get back, Mr. Yagi is back at his desk, scribbling furiously on the list. You set the water down next to him and he ignores it. “This man is dead,” he says, and draws a line through the name – Akaguro Chizome. “Chisaki Kai – also dead, and recently. Ujiko Daruma is an alias of Garaki Kyudai. Which of the names is his true one, I can’t say.”

You stare at him. He continues to write, drawing circles around the remaining three names. “Garaki is worth locating, but concentrate your efforts on these three. They may be three different people or they may all be aliases of the same man. Who gave you this list?”

Some instinct makes you hold back Aizawa’s name. “Why do you need to know?”

“If they’re planning to hunt conjurers, I have some advice that might make the endeavor less dangerous.”

“Hunt them?” you repeat. “No. They wouldn’t. That’s not what – um.”

Mr. Yagi is looking at you, waiting for an explanation, but you don’t know how much to say. Your neighborhood might be sort of friendly, but there’s at least one murderer in every house except yours, and your boss is a lawyer. A lawyer, not a cop. And if he’s embodied, he’s killed someone, too. Based on your expression, he knows what you’re thinking. “Type the brief, then conduct your research. We’ll meet for lunch to discuss it.”

“Yes, sir.” Lunch is three hours away. You’ve got exactly that long to come up with a plan.

You text Keigo in between typing paragraphs of the brief. My boss is a ghost and he knows about the list. What do I do?

For real? I’ve never met one in the wild. Keigo texts back way too fast for somebody who’s supposed to be at work. You say so and get an eyeroll in response. I’m a crisis responder. If nobody’s in crisis I don’t go out. Did he have ideas?

He knew the names. I’m supposed to meet him at lunch to talk about it. You get an idea. If you’re still around at noon, come meet us.

Keigo sends a thumbs-up and you throw yourself into typing the brief. You print it and return it to Mr. Yagi, swapping it for the list of names. Then you settle in at your computer again, considering where to start. Mr. Yagi seems like he knows what he’s talking about, but it won’t hurt to double-check.

You start with the first name he crossed out. Akaguro Chizome has been dead for a while. Twenty years, almost, and he died from blunt force trauma that crushed his skull to powder. You wonder which ghost did that, if it was even a ghost that did it. There’s not much on him. Just an autopsy report. There’s a lot more on Chisaki Kai, when you look him up. Death certificate, police report, interviews. Interviews. You dig into those, and the name at the top of the first one stuns you into stillness: Aizawa Shouta.

The next interviewee is Shinsou Hitoshi, and after him, Aizawa Eri. The only name that’s missing is Hizashi’s, and slowly the pieces start to come together in your head. Chisaki’s remains were so splattered that he wasn’t identified until long after the investigation was closed. Hizashi wouldn’t have cared what Eri’s conjurer’s name was when he killed him, and as long as he was gone, Aizawa wouldn’t have cared, either. His name is still on their list because they never found out who he really was.

Chisaki’s cause of death was internal organ rupture – all of them, all at once. How the hell did Hizashi do that when he was already human? Probably the same way Dabi still burns Keigo – the stronger they are, the more of their powers they keep when they embody themselves. However Hizashi killed humans as a ghost, it must have been nasty. Really nasty.

You tell yourself not to think about that. The important thing is that Mr. Yagi is a credible source. You can take his advice on this. You borrow the computer at the desk next to yours – your coworker’s on maternity leave, leaving you with triple the workload in the bargain – and pull up a second database window. Then you set two searches to run simultaneously. One for Garaki Kyudai, since you want to have some information to give Keigo when you see him. And one for the first of the three circled names: Shigaraki Akira.

The Garaki search finishes fastest, and you print what you’ve got, then rerun the search for Ujiko Daruma. The search for Shigaraki is much more difficult. It’s not a common name, so while there will be fewer documents, they should be easier to find. They aren’t. You turn up some documents for a Shigaraki Yoichi, all of which mention an older brother, but the older brother’s name never comes up. You rerun the search, this time for Shigaraki Yoichi, wondering all the while if it’s futile. These documents are two hundred years old or more. These people, whoever they are, are long dead.

There’s more on Shigaraki Yoichi than Shigaraki Akira. Shigaraki Yoichi had a really shitty life. He was chronically ill at a time when regular illness was still too hard for most doctors to handle, and his mind wasn’t doing too great, either. He died when he was your age, in a mental hospital. Suicide.

At least, it was thought to be a suicide. The medical examiner’s report inserts some doubt into the equation, but it’s noted specifically that the family of Shigaraki Yoichi chose not to press charges against the asylum for his death. There’s a note about the family members – the ones who came to visit, and the one who identified the body. Mother: in a fragile state. Father: deceased. Sister: absent. Body was identified by deceased’s elder brother Akira.

“Got you,” you mumble, and hit print. Now you’ve got proof that there was somebody out there named Shigaraki Akira – and when you scan the list again, you spot the first name of the next name on the list. Kiriyama Yoichi. It could be a coincidence, but you’re pretty sure the asshole jacked his dead brother’s name. “Nice try. I’ve got you now.”

There’s more on Kiriyama Yoichi, but while that search is running, you look up the asylum Shigaraki Yoichi died in. Sure enough, it’s been shut down, but it wasn’t knocked down – it was turned into a museum. Maybe some of the documents were preserved. If they were, you’d love to read whatever Shigaraki Yoichi had to say about his brother.

You’re in the middle of writing an email to the curator when your phone rings. It’s Spinner’s contact number, which is weird. You can’t figure out why Spinner would be calling you, unless something’s gone wrong in the neighborhood. You pick up the call. “Hello?”

You hear Spinner’s voice, but it’s in the background. “Dude, give it back! Don’t go inside –”

There’s the sound of the door opening and shutting. “Phantom missed you,” Tomura says without preamble. Your jaw drops. “Say hi.”

“Hi, sweetie,” you say helplessly. You can hear her snuffling the phone. “Are you being good? Did you get in trouble?”

Phantom barks. “Good girl,” you say, and she barks again. If you were at home, you’d sit down on the floor to cuddle with her, but you’re at work – and Tomura called you. “You really should give Spinner his phone back.”

“He can have it when I’m done. If I feel like giving it back.” Tomura, you remind yourself, is still an asshole. “When are you coming back?”

“The same time I always get back,” you say. “Why did you take Spinner’s phone? Don’t lie.”

“Wanted to talk to you.” Tomura’s voice takes on an almost laughably sulky note. “What? You don’t want to talk to me?”

“I do. I just can’t believe you called me. I thought you hated phones.”

“I hate other things more than phones,” Tomura says. “Where are you, anyway?”

“I’m at my computer at work. I’m looking up things for the list.” You cast around for something else to say. “I’ll tell you about it when I get back. And I’m going to need help when I get back. Hizashi’s going to try to get it out of me, and I’m not telling anyone until they tell us what’s going on.”

“If he comes near us he’s dead,” Tomura says at once. You can hear knocking on the door in the background, and when Tomura speaks again, he’s not talking to you. “You can have it back when I’m done! Go away!”

“We’re done now. I have work to do, and if I don’t get it done, I have to stay late,” you say. Tomura makes an annoyed sound. “I don’t want to stay late and you don’t want me to, either. I –”

You slap your hand down over your mouth just in time. “What?” Tomura asks.

“I’ll talk to you later,” you say. You’re still reeling from whatever the hell almost came out of your mouth. The sooner you get off the phone, the better. “Give Spinner his phone.”

“Fine,” Tomura complains. “Say goodbye to Phantom.”

You tell her goodbye and listen to the appalling sound of her licking the microphone before Tomura hangs up. You’re going to have to apologize to Spinner when you get back. And you might have to get Tomura a phone.

You have time to finish your email to the curator and print the documents for Kiriyama Yoichi before Mr. Yagi ventures out of his office for lunch. “We’ll be going to the usual place,” he says. He nods at the folder you’re carrying. “It seems your search was fruitful.”

You nod. “One of my neighbors works nearby. Can he come with us?”

“Does he – know?”

You laugh. “He has one. A former one. Half a former one.” Mr. Yagi looks baffled, and you sigh. “I’ll let him explain.”

The lunch place is just up the street. You text Keigo to let him know you’re headed there and start the walk with Mr. Yagi. He insists on carrying your files along with his own briefcase, and all you can do is hover, waiting for him to drop one of the two. “The friend who will be joining us,” Mr. Yagi says, “is that who you were speaking with on the phone?”

“No,” you say. Mr. Yagi looks quizzically at you, but there’s no way you’re getting into it. The less you say about Tomura, the better.

When you get to the restaurant, Keigo’s there already, and he waves you and Mr. Yagi over. There’s a mischievous look on his face, and you watch it anxiously as you introduce the two of them. “Mr. Yagi, this is my neighbor across the street, Takami Keigo. And Keigo, this is my boss, Mr. Yagi.”

“Nice to meet you! And nice contacts,” Keigo says. Then he looks at you. His expression’s gone from a smile to a full-blown smirk. “So.”

“What?”

“The strangest thing happened this morning,” Keigo says. “I got a text from Dabi.”

“Dabi?”

“My – roommate,” Keigo says, modifying the sentence after you kick him under the table. “Usually Dabi’s communication style leaves something to be desired. Blighting crops and hexing people is more his speed. But today he texted me. Quite a bit. Take a look at this.”

He shows you the screen of his phone. You read, with Mr. Yagi reading over your shoulder, cringing on every line.

Dabi: do you believe this shit

Dabi: that asshole from across the street lured Spinner over to the fence like a pedo

Dabi: so then they’re talking about fuck knows what

Dabi: Spinner’s showing him his Switch

Dabi: then Spinner shows him his phone

Dabi: and that asshole fucking materializes one hand, grabs it, and hauls ass back inside

Dabi: it’s been thirty minutes and he still hasn’t given it back

Dabi: crazy shit

Mr. Yagi coughs. Keigo gives you a significant look. “Any speculations as to why Tomura stole Spinner’s phone?”

“Tomura is –”

“Her ghost.” Keigo nods at you.

“Ah,” Mr. Yagi says. “I imagine that Tomura stole the phone in order to place a call to her.”

Keigo wheezes. “He said Phantom missed me,” you say lamely.

“More like he missed you! You’re going to have to get him a phone.” Keigo misinterprets the look you’re giving him and keeps talking. “Don’t teach him how the camera works, though. I taught Touya and now I get photos.”

The last thing you want to do is teach Tomura about dick pics. If you get him a phone, it’s going to be a flip phone. Or one of the ancient ones with the keyboard that slides out. Mr. Yagi is studying Keigo carefully. “Is it true that you have a ghost? I was led to believe that there was something – odd about him.”

“Dabi? Yeah. He’s a scar wraith,” Keigo says. Mr. Yagi nods. “Do you know something about those?”

“Nothing, other than that it’s an uncomfortable state to exist in. How long has he been that way?”

“A while. Before we moved here.” Keigo focuses in on the file folder in a way that tells you he’s done talking about this. “What’s in there? Did you find anything on Garaki?”

“Here.” You pass him the relevant documents, then extract the files on Shigaraki to show to Mr. Yagi. “You were right. At least one of these is an alias. But this person – the first one on the list – was born two hundred and fifty years ago. He can’t still be alive.”

“Conjurers draw power from the world between,” Mr. Yagi says. “It allows them to exceed a natural human lifespan. But in order to draw that power, they require a conduit of some kind. Some are lucky enough to find a location that’s been consumed, in whole or in part, by the world between. Others must create their own.”

“What do you mean?” Keigo asks. “Like – well, shit. No wonder they keep coming back.”

Mr. Yagi nods. You feel like you missed something. “What?”

“The ghosts summoned by conjurers act as their conduits to the world between,” Mr. Yagi says. “When a ghost embodies itself permanently, the conduit is closed. A powerful enough conjurer will have summoned and bound many ghosts, and the loss of one or two will not trouble them. But weaker conjurers don’t have the ghosts to spare. When they lose a conduit, they come to investigate. And to punish.”

“Eri’s conjurer was weaker than the others,” you realize. “If Spinner’s right, and he was Magne’s and Atsuhiro’s too, then he lost three ghosts. He would have had to do something –”

“And he probably thought it was going to be easy until Hizashi murked him,” Keigo says. “I don’t think they even found out his name.”

“It was Chisaki Kai,” you say. “He was on the list. And he’s not the only one. Akaguro Chizome is dead, too. Do you know who killed him?”

“It is possible to kill conjurers,” Mr. Yagi says, noticeably avoiding your question. “However, it’s highly dangerous, as the conjurers are capable of harnessing ghostly power through their conduits to the world between. Humans who try to kill them often fail. I assume this Hizashi is a former ghost?”

“Probably the ghostliest former ghost, other than my idiot,” Keigo says. “If I was ranking power levels on the street, he and Dabi would be the strongest. If we’re counting former ghosts. We’ve only got one real ghost left.”

“You’ve been to my house,” you say to Mr. Yagi. “Is he really that strong?”

“Almost incalculably strong,” Mr. Yagi says. You’re weirdly proud of Tomura. “Given his presence, I’m not surprised your neighborhood has such a high concentration of ghosts. Unfortunately, such a high concentration poses a risk.”

“No, he blocks us,” Keigo says, frowning. “He blocks all of us.”

“I’m sure he does,” Mr. Yagi says. “What I mean is simply that if a conjurer discovers one of you, all of you will be compromised.”

He’s right. You hadn’t thought of that, and based on Keigo’s expression, neither had he – but Mr. Yagi is right. If a conjurer makes it past Tomura’s aura to investigate, they’ll find out that the neighborhood contains half a dozen former ghosts. “Do they talk to each other? Conjurers?”

“Some do,” Mr. Yagi says. “But all of them are able to sense the presence of ghostly power, just as ghosts are. If one finds your neighborhood –”

“We’ll just kill him,” Keigo says. “Problem solved.”

“Problem not solved. If we just kill some guy, our neighborhood will be his last known location,” you say. You’re not a lawyer, but after three years as Mr. Yagi’s paralegal, you know your way around a murder case. “We’d look guilty. And not everybody in the neighborhood can stand up to direct questioning. If the police show up we’d be in a lot of trouble.”

“We can get out of that,” Keigo says, waving his hand and accidentally attracting the attention of a server. “Now that I’ve met your boss, I know a good lawyer. Hi! We’re definitely ready to order.”

Keigo can put away food like there’s no tomorrow, but Mr. Yagi’s a slow eater, and your appetite’s taken a hit. Mr. Yagi notices. “Are you all right, my dear?”

“I’m worried,” you say. “Aizawa gave me those names yesterday, and Hizashi asked about them again this morning. Neither of them were taking no for an answer. It seems urgent. I think there’s a chance we’ve already been caught.”

“We’ve been caught. You haven’t been caught.” Keigo waves a piece of fried chicken at you. “You’ve got a live ghost. If a conjurer shows up, you’re the only person on the street who doesn’t have to worry.”

“That depends on the conjurer,” Mr. Yagi says quietly. “Conjurers lose ghosts for one reason and one reason only – permanent embodiment. Ghosts don’t embody themselves permanently without reason, and if Tomura’s conjurer were to suspect that Tomura might consider it, their wisest move would be to remove the reason why he would.”

“You’re saying Tomura’s conjurer might try to kill me,” you say. Mr. Yagi nods. “That would be stupid of them. He’d never embody himself. He likes being a ghost.”

“You sure about that?” Keigo eyes you over the rim of his soda. “I wouldn’t be. Since you two hooked up –”

“We didn’t hook up,” you say. There’s no world in which kissing constitutes hooking up. You’re not even all that sure Tomura knows what sex is, and you really don’t want to talk about it in front of your boss. You turn to your boss, pretending Keigo isn’t there. “I’m guessing a conjurer wouldn’t stop to ask. He’d just kill me. Right?”

“Yes.” Mr. Yagi sighs. “By that token, you’re perhaps the unsafest of all.”

“It’s a waste of time to decide who’s safest and unsafest,” you say. “If a conjurer shows up we’re all in trouble. Either Hizashi and Aizawa think somebody’s found us already, or – I don’t know. Maybe they’re trying to track where the other conjurers are?”

“That sounds right,” Keigo says. “If we monitor them, then we can figure out if they’re getting close, and kill them away from the neighborhood so nobody gets suspicious.”

“Let’s speak a little more quietly about this,” Mr. Yagi implores. People are starting to stare at the three of you. “Engaging with the conjurers this way should be your last resort. Stay hidden at all costs.”

“What if we have to kill someone in order to stay hidden?”

Mr. Yagi gives Keigo a look. “I’ve stayed hidden for fifteen years. Do you mean to tell me that you can’t hide better than an old man like me?”

The challenge is enough to silence Keigo on the issue – that issue, and only that issue, for the rest of lunch, until his work phone chimes. He drops his credit card on the table and bolts, and you and Mr. Yagi both stare at it for a moment. “Is he buying lunch?”

You think about some of Keigo’s bullshit today. “Yes.”

With Keigo gone, you seize the opportunity to go into a little more depth with your research. “With Kiriyama Yoichi, I need to do some more reading. Since Akira stole his brother’s name for his new identity, I’m guessing he stole a name from somebody he knew in the Kiriyama identity to generate the next alias. I’m not sure who it is, but it’ll help to find them. They almost certainly left a bigger paper trail than he has.”

You contemplate the stack of papers, then think about what your work inbox looks like. “There’s no way I can get this done before the end of the day.”

“Take it home,” Mr. Yagi says. You nod. “May I make a suggestion?”

“Please.”

“My son, Izuku, is very good at projects such as this one,” Mr. Yagi says. You’ve met Izuku. He’s simultaneously the friendliest and the most intense kid on the planet. “You won’t need to give him much background information, and he’s on summer break. Both of you can read over the information and share conclusions. Two heads are better than one.”

You nod. “In addition,” Mr. Yagi continues, “there are conjurers who do not engage in the practice of binding spirits. I’ll reach out to my contacts there and see what they know.”

“Thank you,” you say. Mr. Yagi nods, taking the last sips of his tea. “Sir, um – why are you helping me? I know I’ve been difficult the last few months. I’ve been slow. And this morning, I –”

“I’ve had no concerns with your work. And I knew all about your office demeanor when I hired you.” Mr. Yagi cracks a small, skeletal grin. Then his expression softens. “As for why I would help you, there are three reasons. First, because it’s the right thing to do. Second, because I care for you. And third, because it would have helped my wife immensely to have met someone who could explain the nature of these things, rather than having to find out on her own.”

“Oh,” you say. You weren’t sure what you were expecting him to say. Probably not that he cares about you, but it’s true, isn’t it? He’s the nicest boss you’ve ever had, and his first reaction to seeing Tomura’s marks on you was to offer to help. Even if you felt judged. Maybe the feeling of being judged was just you. “Thank you, sir. It means a lot.”

Mr. Yagi nods. “Be careful,” he tells you. “This world is more dangerous than you realize.”

You could take that as paternalistic, patronizing, if you wanted to. You’ve never doubted that the world of ghosts and conjurers was a dangerous one. The first time you learned of Tomura’s existence, it was because you saw him kill something, and even if everyone else on the street is incredibly blasé about it, you never let yourself forget the kind of neighborhood you live in. It’s almost a relief to hear Mr. Yagi’s reminder. “Don’t worry, sir,” you say. You aren’t scared of Tomura these days, but careful of the rest? Careful you can do. “I will.”

#lovhalloweenhorror #shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #x reader #reader insert #shigaraki tomura #ghost story #loser nerd ghost boyfriend

[radiant-reid]

Could you do Spencer x reader where they’re like parents and their teenage daughter brings home a boy or like her bf. Like how would spencer and the reader react?

this got long, sorry !

"Matilda Morgan Reid, come here." You say as soon as you hear the faint steps of your eldest daughter going up the stairs. She was trying to be as quiet as possible, but you've been in the FBI for years, and nothing gets past you. She hates it, and you can almost hear her toss her head back and roll her eyes.

Spencer's sitting at the kitchen island, frowning slightly at you as he watches you making your midafternoon teas so you can read together like boring old people. Also known as your favorite time of the day.

Sundays are your favorite. They've rarely varied over the years, even with your three kids. Someone cooks breakfast, usually pancakes, then it's a long library trip because you convinced Spencer it was smarter than buying books once your bookshelves were filled up, sometimes shopping, a grocery store trip, walking the dog, cleaning the house, and then reading. It's normal people domestic, marital bliss stuff, the calm you don't get with your job, and it never gets old.

Tillie has outgrown it, expected for a 16-year-old. As long as she's there for breakfast or checks in in the morning, and she's not too hungover, she's got free reign.

Hugo is in his mall phase. The arcade and movie theatre is where he requests to be taken on the weekends so he can hang out with his friends like a typical 13-year-old. Of course, as soon as you play the role of chauffer, you are required to leave.

Beatrice, your baby, who outgrew being called a baby 7 years ago, is little enough to still want to hang out with her parents. But sleepovers and birthday parties are becoming her weekend plans more frequently and you're sad she's growing up but it's nice to have more time alone with Spencer.

"What did she do?" He whispers, puzzled by your request. She's a good kid, obviously very smart, keeps her room clean and there's nothing he could think of that you would be mad at for her.

"Nothing wrong. Don't you want to meet her boyfriend, though?" You ask, but you know the answer is no.

"You have the nose of a bloodhound, you know?" He reminds you.

Tillie walks the stairwell and into the kitchen. Alone. "What?" She asks, a little annoyed.

"Come on, we want to meet him." You tell her with a little smirk.

Spencer backs you up. "No friends in the house unless you introduce us." He jogs her memory of a rule you've had forever. Papa Bear Spencer wanted to run background checks on them all, but you talked him down, reminding him you were both good at judging character.

"Fine." She begrudgingly agrees. "But don't cry." She narrows his eyes at her dad, knowing his predilection to tears whenever there are milestones in your kids' lives. "Owen." She calls, frowning at both of you until her boyfriend enters the kitchen.

He looks terrified, and you know you would be if your first real boyfriend's parents were FBI agents.

"Hi." You offer out your hand to shake his, and he manages to reciprocate the handshake without shaking. "I'm Tillie's mom, Y/n Reid."

"I'm Owen, it's nice to meet you." He says very respectfully, impressing you just because he's polite.

Spencer gets up, shaking the young boy's hand. "Doctor Reid." You glare at him out of the corner of your eye, warning him against being scary. He was once that boy as well.

"It's nice to meet you, too, sir." He replies, picking up on Spencer's formalness.

"Please, you can just call us Y/n and Spencer." You tell the near trembling boy.

"Okay, can we go?" Tillie asks, mirroring her father with her sassiness.

You nod, waving them off, and she pretty much drags her boyfriend out of the room. "Door open, Till," Spencer yells after them, earning a loud groan from his daughter who was quickly racing upstairs. "I don't like him." He declares as soon as he's sure they're out of earshot.

"Stop." You say, pushing his shoulder. "You're lying and being mean."

"Am not." He childishly argues, holding your hips so you can't move. "He's in her class, right?"

It's an odd question, but you answer anyway. "Yeah."

"Mm, cool." He replies, glancing over his shoulder at his phone on the bench.

He distracts you with a quick kiss before pulling away and retrieving it. "No." You stop him, rushing to his side to grab it. "Don't you dare ask Penelope to background check him."

When you reach to grab his phone again, he holds it above your head, typing a message out to her on it. "If I don't, she'll do it anyway once she realizes Tillie is dating."

"Level one only." You agree.

"Level three." He bargains.

"Two." You settle, sternly looking at him so he knows you're serious.

"Okay." He concedes. "Two...and a half."

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid blurb

[typingwithmyhandstied]

all of the asks. (ask game)

(you don’t actually have to i partially just thought it would be funny to say this i can pick specific ones if you want but also please do if you want to)

This is hilarious. I will do all of them because why not.

favorite chore: organizing things mostly but sometimes even that sucks, sweeping, or not really a chore--- peeling potatoes

least favorite chore: cleaning anything that's sticky/slimy/etc

aquarium, planetarium, museum, or zoo: it really depends on the kind. The aquarium in my town has a really big otter enclosure, so I love that. I really really like planetariums and museums but don't go enough.

favorite kind of museum: The ones that are pretty much people's houses turned into museums especially big old fancy houses with old artifacts. I do love a good art museum of course too.

cooking or baking (and your favorite thing to cook or bake): baking and apple crisp. It has peeling, cutting, etc.

favorite thing in your room: My bookshelf or all of the quotes stuck up on my wall.

favorite class you’ve ever taken: I haven't gotten much variety yet. I really like choir, Spanish, and English though.

what kinds of clothes do you typically wear?: tshirts, jeans, overalls, sweaters, really anything but if you see it it makes sense.

favorite way to be creative (can be anything: playlists, outfits, drawing, writing, decorating cookies, anything.): WRITING but I actually kind of have done a lot. I paint some. I make cool outfits. I actually painted a bunch of jean jackets last summer while listening to the FLF audiobook. I might do that again.

are you superstitious?: Yes and no. I am in the ways that I think are funny like sayings and jokes and having a "lucky necklace." I used to be more so.

favorite article of clothing you own: It's either this gray sweater I found thrifting, my Evermore sweatshirt, or my best jean jacket.

favorite way to carry things (pockets, purse, backpack, etc): I apologize in advance for the rant this will cause. I want to say pockets, but I can not because WOMEN'S PANTS POCKETS FIT NOTHING. I also have to carry an Epipen which can't even fit in men's pants pockets so a purse. I like satchel like purses that can fit a book.

what things do you usually have on you when you leave the house?: As stated before my Epipen, my phone which has my wallet stuff in it, a purse, a book, headphones, chapstick, some cash, etc.

favorite errand: grocery shopping or essential other things

dream job: a librarian who writes books in her spare time (with a dog and a cat <3)

favorite thing get when going out to eat: a burger or spaghetti usually

when did you lose your first tooth?: first tooth lost was pulled by the dentist, and I didn't know what was going on. It was HORRIBLE. I have gotten many pulled actually. First "naturally" lost was because my friend's friend hit my chin with her knee while we lifted her in the air at recess. I lost it in Spanish class a few days later.

any childhood memory you want to share:

do you like camping?: Yes, but mostly because I was taken a lot as a kid.

have you ever gone to summer camp and did you enjoy it?: I went to girl scout summer camp but family camp, so my mom was there. It was fine.

favorite place to write things: At a table anywhere without too much distractions

lucky number(s): 4, 7, 13, 14, 16

favorite place you’ve traveled to: Canada probably or just somewhere camping

place you want to travel to: Broadway or London or the Netherlands (to meet an old online friend)

favorite snack: gold fish

favorite smell: lemon verbena

something you’re proud of: all the progress I have made

do you have any pets?: I had a bunny as a little girl. I loved her. I had a dog, but she died two months (ish) ago. I miss her.

do you want any pets that you don’t have?: I want to have a dog again someday. I also will probably have a cat someday. (If I could get an orange cat, I would name it Kell.)

favorite place to go in your neighborhood: THE LIBRARY DUH

#this was so fun #i love talking about myself a little too much #thank you for the ask <3

[leasstories]

Lea's Calendar day 1: A dangerous festive decorative competition

@writerthreads writing prompt for Christmas (2022), prompt 13:

[neighborhood festive decoration competition becomes dangerously competitive]

Eddie x Gn!reader

No trigger warning

WC: ≈930

December 1st, 1985

You’re a high school senior living at Hawkins Trailer’s park. Your neighbor is Eddie and as each year, most families from the trailer parks decided to do their annual “festive decoration competition”. Obviously, this year, who decided to participate? The one and only Eddie Munson. You and Eddie aren’t enemies, you’ve known each other since forever. You’re not what we can call friends either, your acquaintances. Obviously, you have one huge secret: your crush on Eddie. But you won’t let a silly little crush destabilize you during the neighborhood festive decoration contest, never. You’ve been winning this contest since you were 10 years old! All your Christmas decorations are handmade and every year you create new ones. You always choose a theme for your Christmas decorations and this year, the theme you chose is based on the movie A Christmas Carol.

You’re currently at the grocery store to buy some materials to create the best homemade Christmas decorations possible. You’re looking for as many cheap materials as possible when suddenly, in one aisle you see Eddie. He is doing the same thing as you, looking for cheap material to create Christmas decorations. You try your best to stay hidden, but in vain, Eddie saw you.

“This year the Munson trailer will win” Eddie shoots in your direction confidently.

“Munson, I’ve been winning since I’m 10 years old, you can’t beat me, and you know it” You tell him. “You’re not even a Christmas guy” you add confidently.

Eddie is kind of hurt by your last statement, Christmas was his mom’s favorite holiday and since she passed away it is true that Eddie started to celebrate Halloween more than Christmas but Eddie cares about Christmas and if he wants to win this year’s neighborhood festive decoration contest it’s for his late mom. Eddie doesn’t answer you and keep doing his shopping, trying to avoid you as much as possible.

After your shopping, you go back to the trailer park. The only difference between Eddie and you is that you don’t drive and had to walk from the store to your trailer. Once you arrive, you can see Eddie is already back at his trailer and already started decorating.

Seeing Eddie already setting up pisses you off. If there is one thing to know about you it is your competitive spirit. You hate losing. And if there is one thing to know about Eddie, it is that he loves pissing you off.

“You’re finally here” Eddie tells you “I thought you gave up the competition.”

Eddie’s comment makes you red in the face and you bite back “Not everyone has the luxury of having a car Munson. But I’d rather have no car and respect the law than being a drug dealer with a car.”

Eddie chuckles at your comment. He knows you only bite back because you’re competitive. He knows you mean no harm.

“What theme have you decided to do this year?” Eddie curiously asks.

“Nice try Munson, but if you lack inspiration don’t go and ask me what I’m going to do, I’m not stupid. I’m not gonna tell other contestants what I’m going to do.

Days pass and both you and Eddie keep bickering every chance you get. Your decorations are starting to take shape, as well as Eddie’s. You recognized his theme as being the Gremlins, it made you chuckle. But the most interesting part is not that you know his theme but what happened when you went into his trailer when he was supposed to be out.

It was a Friday night, and as everyone knows Friday nights are Hellfire club nights. You knew, or at least thought that Eddie wouldn’t be home before late. You picked the Munson’s trailer lock and came inside. You were pleasantly surprised by Eddie’s decorations. He is going to be a tough opponent after all.

Another thing to know about you is that you hate playing dirty. The idea of destroying Eddie’s work crossed your mind, but you know how much time it takes to create such decorations. While you’re pondering on playing dirty or not, you hear footsteps behind you.

Eddie leans dangerously close to your ear and whispers: “What are you doing here pretty one”.  When Eddie talks, you get shivers running down your spine and your crush on the metalhead intensifies. You stay still and don’t answer while Eddie turns you around, look in your eyes and starts speaking again: “I didn’t know you were capable of playing dirty” Eddie says in a low, seductive voice. Before you get to process anything, Eddie’s hand is on your waist and his mouth is on yours. You both make out for a while before Eddie asks: “Now it’s fair that you tell me your theme.”

You’re so love drunk that you don’t even think twice before telling him. “I decided to base my decorations on A Christmas Carol, the movie.” But after 5 minutes of silence, you realize what you just did and get up. “I’m so stupid! God! Of course, you only did that to get an answer from me.” And leave Eddie’s trailer running.

You stayed inside your trailer, ashamed until the day of the results and in the end nor you or Eddie won the context. Later that day, Eddie came apologizing and explained that he really meant that kiss, and he is sorry for using it as a mean to get informations from you.

You might not have lost the contest, but you won a lover.

#Lea's advent calendar #Lea's advent calendar 2023 #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x yn #Eddie Munson hurt/comfort #drabble #based on a prompt

[lovemesomesurveys]

1. What is something in your life that you feel hopeful about right now? Well, I finally tried edibles to see if it helps my anxiety at all, as well as my insomnia, appetite, and pain. I’ve had horrible anxiety, more so than ever, this past year and the medications my doctor would allow weren’t working. I was feeling really hopeless and scared. The only thing that did seem to help was my pain med, which of course isn’t its intended purpose but I was taking it for that as well, which wasn’t good. I finally decided to give edibles a try with the hope of course of it actually helping me and to also take less pills. 

2. What was the last thing you worried about that turned out better than expected? Well, I’ve been trying this new regimen for the past week now and figuring out the right dosages and how many a day and  so far it is working. I have definitely cut back on the pills, which is really good. 

3. Name somewhere you are planning on visiting in the near future? I sadly have no travel plans. I’m hoping perhaps my new “medication” will help me feel motivated and have the desire to want to get up out of bed more and perhaps at least take a drive to the beach and park as close as we can so I can enjoy it from the car. I’d take that over nothing right now. I really miss the beach. :( Like I said, though, I’m still playing around with the correct amount and what type I take for what. I need a mood lifter kind. While it has helped some of my issues, it also makes me really tired and have zero energy which is not helpful if I want to go somewhere.

4. How often do you go grocery shopping and how much food do you usually get in one go? My mom goes twice a month for our big grocery trips. We get a lot of stuff.

5. What is a meal you eat extremely often? Or do your meals & food choices vary a lot? I have cream of wheat for breakfast, Taco Bell at least 4-5 times a week, and I have a sandwich for lunch just about everyday. I have pizza fairly often, too. It’s so wild how my appetite has changed since being home from the hospital because prior to I ate a lot of chicken, particularly chicken wings. I had that all the time before and now it’s rare for me to get chicken wings or chicken strips. I don’t know why.

6. When was the last time you felt unable or unwilling to speak your mind to someone? That’s kinda just how I am for the most part. I’d like to speak up to a couple people, but I just want to cause any drama or hurt anyone’s feelings. I just imagine the conversation going completely wrong and everything getting twisted. I won’t be able to say what I want to say in the right way. I’m getting hurt, too, but it’s best I just don’t say anything.

7. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? I don’t recall.

8. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? I don’t have any friends.

9. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else's dreams? I always have random people pop up in my dreams for some reason. Like people I know, but I’m talking like for example this kid I went to elementary and middle school with. We weren’t friends, but acquaintances. I didn’t have a crush on him or anything either. Sooo, I really have no idea why he’s the one to pop up on my dreams randomly. 

10. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? I sometimes wish I could talk to Ty again and tell him some things, but I guess at this point it really doesn’t matter.

11. Instead of flat earth, what do you think of the simulated earth theory, that we're basically all just a giant computer program or virtual reality? Nah.

12. What worries you most about your future? I’m truly afraid of getting worse or never getting much better. I’m afraid of living a life mainly stuck in bed or at home. I’m afraid I won’t be able to travel again or go places. My future terrifies me.

13. What is something you do to feel better when you're scared? I have to just try to distract myself somehow. 14. Who do you feel you can count on the most in life? Is there anyone you wish you could count on more? My mom, 100%. I know I always can.

15. What makes you trust someone? When was the last time someone broke your trust? It’s usually just unless I have a reason or feeling that I shouldn’t. You just kind of vibe with someone and gauge how comfortable you feel and how much you want to share. 

16. When was the last time you shared a secret with someone, and how did they react? I don’t recall. 

17. Are you more likely to give advice or to ask for it? I used to be the one friends came to for advice all the time, but I’m certainly in no place to be giving advice to anyone right now. I also don’t ask for it generally. Very rarely. I keep a lot of shit to myself. 

18. When was the last time you felt totally lost, figuratively speaking? How about literally? >> I constantly feel lost, figuratively speaking. I almost never feel lost, literally speaking. <<<

19. In what ways are you emotionally strong? In what ways are you emotionally weak? I feel extremely weak emotionally. And physically.

20. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? One of them that randomly came to mind is “The Giver.”

21. Do you prefer to watch movies or tv alone or with other people? Is there anything you refuse to watch alone? I much prefer watching with others. My mom, brother, and I have several shows we watch together. I find it fun to have someone to react and obsess with. 

22. What was the last thing you broke? How about fixed? I don’t recall.

23. Is there a sign or symbol that means a lot to you for whatever reason (eg. seeing certain animals or birds, 11:11 or other repeating numbers, syncs, butterflies, hearts in nature, etc)? My favorite number since I was a kid has been 8. That number comes up a lot in my life, too. The number 9 does as well. I don’t know what it means, if anything, but it’s interesting. 

24. Do you have any personal ghost stories or paranormal experiences? No.

25. What do you get complimented on the most? Ha, nothing anymore. I’m a mess. 

26. What is something unusual that you find attractive? I find hands attractive, but I think that’s not so unusual or uncommon. I can’t think of anything that would be “unusual.”

27. What time do you tend to eat your first meal of the day? And your last? I tend to eat around 11 or 12PM and my last meal around 8. 

28. What was the subject of the last video you watched? I’m watching a YouTuber that does a lot of videos on abandoned places and companies that went bankrupt and/or closed down. The one I’m watching now is about Bed, Bath, & Beyond. 

29. When was the last time you traveled out of town, and where to? Over a year ago to the beach. 

30. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? I don’t know, man.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

[nopizzaaftermidnight]

 For our last celebratory TENPAM anniversary post, I thought I'd do some character history. As you've seen, Lily's been around the longest, and I got Savvy worked out in math class the year before I started NPAM. Besides Lily's sporadically appearing parents, the first character I came up with for the strip was actually the Grub Guy.

A greasy looking fellow who has the monopoly on all pop-up shops, typically selling Grub but also seen slinging coffee, sweets, squid, stuff, and milkshakes, among other things. Over the years, we've learned that his name is Mike, he has a twin (or perhaps any number of identical siblings all with one-syllable M names), and his mom is the manager of the local grocery store. She looks just like him but with a bit more hair. Though the Grub Guy doesn't show up in the comic too often, I still think his totally blank face and superhuman franchise abilities are hilarious. The Grub guy debuted on July 13, 2013.

Just after Mike the Grub guy, Champ arrives on the scene! Everyone in his family is named after plants (his given name is Basil). When I was designing him, I was trying to go for a breezy, casual beach style. I accidentally completely designed (the yet-unnamed) Tyler, but it wasn't the right look for Champ. I pivoted at the last moment, adding the trademark hat and worn out jeans. You can see it on the far right above. Funnily enough, year later when I went back to figure out Champ's real hair, it looks a lot like those swoopy ones I started out with on the left! Champ debuted on July 23, 2013

Another side character, Bike Shorts Guy, showed up a month later! I think he's really funny in a very bizarre and inexplicable way. His main traits are his good posture and his hobby of hunting wild pastries. He has never been seen on a bike. I don't think he's been featured recently, but he always makes me laugh. Bike Shorts Guy debuted on August 31, 2013

Tyler came next. That early Champ design stayed in my mind, and so our sensitive artist showed up on the scene. He and Savvy became unlikely friends. Imagine, he could've been named Hamlet.

Tyler debuted on September 10, 2013

In eighth and ninth grade I went to school online. Eventually, every school subject had a main representative character, a sport/hobby, and a sidekick. (That's what happens when you spend two years at home and it's just you and your gel pens and workbooks). Zo was my science girl, with a bonus human, Nelly the assistant. Their pet friend was a plain cat named Kitty. Looks familiar…

(The lines under their eyes are safety goggles. My mom thought they were mustaches.)

Though I risked following the formula of every ensemble-cast comic, NPAM got its own fluffy friend, the precocious cat Herriman! He's named for George Herriman, creator of the historically iconic Krazy Kat comic. I fooled around with markings, whiskers, and noses, but ultimately made him very plain, just like Kitty. Herriman debuted January 6, 2014

I tossed out an anti-joke right around the time I was graduating high school. It was intentionally unfunny. I figured it was just a silly one-off sort of thing. I was... very wrong. Early on, I returned to the Slug every Saturday because they were an easy way to whip out that last comic as I drew them in sets of six week to week. To this day, the Slug is definitely my most popular character. The Slug debuted May 29, 2014

I had plenty of characters, so I didn't feel moved to make another until over a year later. I developed Sera Sophia and Dart at the same time, knowing they'd be best buddies, but Sera Sophia snuck into the comic a bit earlier. I wanted her to have that sort of earthy hippy fairy look. (It's pretty common around where I grew up.) Though this was way before I decided to literally make her part fairy! Sera Sophia debuted on July 6, 2015

I posit that Dart was always around the NPAM world, living his merboy life happily unobserved by the NPAM audience. Savvy, who knows all the living creatures on land and sea, has known him for ages. But she's very discreet, and never told any of the humans about him. Dart and Sera Sophia hit it off instantly, as Sera Sophia is very accepting of unusual (magical) phenomena. Dart debuted July 27, 2015

And that's our main cast! Savvy retired in 2020, and other characters have come and gone (anyone remember Kai, the Japanese fish?). This concludes our TENPAM celebration. I'd like to thank all of YOU, readers, for your continued support and kind words. I'm glad that this silly ol' comic can brighten your days. Ever onward we go!

#TENPAM!! #dart #sera sophia #slug #champ #tyler #npam history #herriman the cat

[the-paris-of-people]

for the otp asks: 8, 13, 20, 22, 30, 51, 57 (i know it’s a lot i had to cut down the list bc i was ready to send you like fifteen of them lmao) for benvi of course!!! 💖

8.) What happens if one of them gets sick?

When Devi gets sick, Ben teases her but is especially doting and tries to stay home as much as he can to keep her company and because he is concerned for her. He tucks her in and feeds her chicken soup and takes her temperature frequently and calls in sick for her and Devi feels like the luckiest person in the world to have such a caring partner

When Ben gets sick, Devi isn't as doting but is definitely concerned for her partner. She calls/texts him every few hours and tells all her friends that "Ben's sick, I hope he's okay" She moves a TV into the bedroom and puts on Gossip Girl reruns and calls Patty to find out how Ben likes his laundry done so she can do it while he's sick.

13.) Who’s the bigger tease?

Devi, 100% She knows Ben likes the chase and that it drives him crazy in the best way possible.

20.) Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

That's so hard because their relationship has soooo many twists and turns but I saw a great video for The Very First Night by miss taylor swift and the lyrics do fit them perfectly

22.) What reminds each of their partner?

Ben: Reality TV shows (particularly the Bachelorette) and gossip, brightly lit restaurants, groups of little kids playing on the playground (reminds Ben of when they first met)

De

30.) Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

Laughing my ass off because I feel like they would use this opportunity to roast each other. Ben would choose a hot pink sari because Devi hates them and thinks they are uncomfortable while Ben would wear a tuxedo too sizes too small.

51.) What’s a non verbal way they say I love you?

Devi is a huge fan of the casual hand squeeze while Ben is a big forehead kisser. Devi also loves to plan elaborate, romantic dates for Ben on weekends after a hard work week, while Ben likes to make up stories to lull Devi to sleep

57.) Whose the serious one when grocery shopping and who likes to toss random things in the cart?

We all know Ben is the adult in this relationship and Devi loves to grab all the crap her mom never let her get (And Ben lets her because, well, he's never had a Twinkie before)

#benvi #never have i ever #ask #answered #ty for the ask spencer baby ily

[nostalgiaispeace]

2355.

1. What is something in your life that you feel hopeful about right now? honestly, nothing

2. What was the last thing you worried about that turned out better than expected? moving 

3. Name somewhere you are planning on visiting in the near future? a drag bar

4. How often do you go grocery shopping and how much food do you usually get in one go? every 2 weeks and enough for 2 weeks

5. What is a meal you eat extremely often? Or do your meals & food choices vary a lot? frozen pizza and nuggets is the one thing we have at least once a week

6. When was the last time you felt unable or unwilling to speak your mind to someone? Today

7. What was the last thing you changed your mind about? Idk

8. Who was the last friend you saw, and what did you do together? emily. we hung out and chatted

9. Who tends to show up in your dreams? Do you ever wonder if you appear in anyone else’s dreams? oh anyone and everyone. and yes i do lo

10. What is something you wish you could say to someone who is no longer in your life, or something you wish they could know? "are you sorry?"

11. Instead of flat earth, what do you think of the simulated earth theory, that we’re basically all just a giant computer program or virtual reality? Not a fan

12. What worries you most about your future? that i wont be successful

13. What is something you do to feel better when you’re scared? nothing 14. Who do you feel you can count on the most in life? Is there anyone you wish you could count on more? My mom; my husband

15. What makes you trust someone? When was the last time someone broke your trust? Idk it's just a feeling i get.

16. When was the last time you shared a secret with someone, and how did they react? idk

17. Are you more likely to give advice or to ask for it? give

18. When was the last time you felt totally lost, figuratively speaking? How about literally? today

19. In what ways are you emotionally strong? In what ways are you emotionally weak? in no way; in all ways

20. What is the strangest book you have ever read? How did you find out about it? i've read so many strange books lol

21. Do you prefer to watch movies or tv alone or with other people? Is there anything you refuse to watch alone? depends on what i'm watching.

22. What was the last thing you broke? How about fixed? Idk

23. Is there a sign or symbol that means a lot to you for whatever reason (eg. seeing certain animals or birds, 11:11 or other repeating numbers, syncs, butterflies, hearts in nature, etc)? not that i can think or rn

24. Do you have any personal ghost stories or paranormal experiences? yes

25. What do you get complimented on the most? nothing

26. What is something unusual that you find attractive? Idk?

27. What time do you tend to eat your first meal of the day? And your last? noon; 630 

28. What was the subject of the last video you watched? i'm watching a crime show rn

29. When was the last time you traveled out of town, and where to? ohio i think.

30. How would you describe your overall aesthetic? idk. i haven't thought about it

#me #survey

[shinxeysartgallery]

Based off that one reblog you did recently, what would you say are the worst drivers you've seen?

Oh boy where do I even start? I've seen a TON of horrible drivers in my nearly three decades on this planet.

Here's some that come to mind!

At one point when I was working, I parked my car and then I had to cross a street to get to the building. I was in the crosswalk and some dude that wasn't paying attention to where they were going nearly ran me over. Legit if I hadn't jumped to the sidewalk right when I did, I would've been under the car's wheels.

There was a time when I was around 13 and my mom was taking me to a local museum. This car drove past us going easily 30 over the speed limit and their trunk was wide open with stuff flying out of it all over the road as they drove.

Another time I had to go with my mom to take the car into the shop and nearly got t-boned by a semi-truck that ran a red light.

I went out with my dad to get pizza and we ran into this car that randomly stopped in the middle of the highway and just sat there for a minute before turning. No turn signal, brake lights didn't work. Nothing. My dad nearly crashed into them.

Another time I was sitting and looking out the window at around 9pm or so at night (so it's pitch-black outside) when I barely see this car speed down the highway. Dude had NO lights on and was driving a dark-colored car. The only reason I saw them at all was because their tail light reflected off something else.

There was another time when I went to go get take out after getting off work and I turned down this one street. Looked both ways before turning; all clear. Went down the road a bit and checked my mirrors; all clear. I turn on my turn signal and start to inch into the other lane when this car comes out of freaking nowhere and speeds past my car so close to me that we were nearly touching. Like there was literally only a few inches of space between the cars. Dude was going so fast that they showed up within the mere SECONDS that it took me to glance away from my mirror and back to the road. LITERAL SECONDS. And then because of how fast they were going, they were gone pretty much as soon as they showed up. (That one still freaks me out a bit.)

Another time this guy ran a stop sign and nearly got t-boned by a car coming from the side road.

There was also this one time when I was at the store with my dad and while we were loading the groceries into the car, this dude wasn't paying attention to what he was doing and backed out of his parking spot without looking. Crashed into a car coming down the lot aisle so hard it crunched up the driver's side door. That was unironically one of the worst sounds I have ever heard. Then the guy who caused the accident got out of his car and started screaming at the guy he crashed into. I'd hate to be the cops/insurance company/whatever dealing with that mess. (Afaik, the other guy was fine.)

I can think of a lot more, but these were some highlights! It's like my driver's ed teacher said: "it's not your driving that you have to worry about so much as it is everyone else's". Now I think we all know why.

#anon ask #shinxey's asks #bad drivers #hate driving in this state man #everyone's a maniac here

[rosecoloredknight]

Here’s a long ask you might have to think about but I’m bored and interested in your answers too so what the heck! 😂

What are your top 5 countries you’d love to visit and top 5 cities in those countries ?

Top 5 songs that you listen to when you’re sad?

Top 5 movies?

Do you have a top 5 actors or actresses who you love and same goes for bands/ artists? :)

ANON, MY GOODNESS —

first off, I only think I can give 1-3 max cities for each country so I hope that's okay with you!!!

Top 5 countries I'd love to visit and will visit at least two or three in my lifetime:

1. Germany!!

Cities:

Möttingen, Germany - why? Because of 'The Romantic Road'!! Obviously driving can be a nuisance and take a toll on you BUT it seems like a nice 3 - 4 day vacation? here's a link that I read and saved a while back. It's not a must for me but something to think about.

Erfurt, Germany — why? Unlike the rest of the countries and cities, it will be because one of my friends live there and it's better or at least it seems wiser to visit my friend and spend time with them as they show me around and I experience their culture, the location, etc!!

2. Scotland!!

1. Edinburgh, Scotland - it's obvious because it's a popular or seems like a popular tourist attraction and I really want to walk those stairs I keep seeing in Instagram reels!! Aghh

Another reason would be because my mom is a HUGE Outlander fan and she stated that she would love to visit that place sometime so I'm like !!!!!! YES. I want her walking around Loch Ness, Old Course, and anywhere near the vicinity of Edinburgh. Have her enjoy a different scenery for once.

3. France!!

I actually tried learning French 5 years ago and that's pretty much why haha. I know that France, well I don't know, but I have been paying a little attention that there seems to be a revolution or disagreement with their laws or government and I don't know where it would be a good place to visit just to experience a life in France (I don't want the fake experience) but if someone can help me with that and just help me find a place where I can walk around, shop groceries, park walks, thrift shopping, and etc then I'd greatly appreciate it!!

4. Canada

British Columbia is just above Washington State and I've been looking around there and it's not necessarily that I would like to travel there for a week or so but more so give it a day or two of walking around there and then heading back to Washington. I guess it's more for me to say that I've "been" to Canada 😆

5. Japan/South Korea

I have no particular reason as to why, HOWEVER, if I can visit any of these two places then I will — I'd like to learn about their culture, the things they teach in terms of manners or beliefs, way of living, etc.

—

Top 5 songs I listen to when I'm sad:

Chances Are • Bob Marley and The Wailers

Leave a Light On - Acoustic • Tom Walker

My Tears Ricochet • Taylor Swift

Call Your Mom • Noah Kahan

Mercury • Sleeping At Last

* by the way, it's not me intentionally listening to sad music but moreso the music I like to help me feel better ARE sad music. I'll honestly listen to anything really when I'm sad. The point or more important question is AM I WALKING, PLAYING BASKETBALL, OR JOGGING while listening to music?!

—

Top 5 movies:

Oooooh, I recently got introduced to my new all time favorite so I'm glad I can share it here!! I can boast and ramble about each one listed but the message of this is YOU GOTTA WATCH IT SOMETIME IF YOU HAVEN'T ALREADY!!

1. Notting Hill

2. While You Were Sleeping

3. Pizza My Heart

4. The Family Man

5. One Fine Day

6. 13 Going on 30

7. The Incredible Hulk

—

Top 5 actors/actresses and bands/artists!?

Artists/bands

Taylor Swift

Noah Kahan

Harry Styles

Sleeping At Last

Twenty One Pilots

Bastille

—

Top 5 actors/actresses:

Hmm, this is a little bit more complicated because I've haven't watched much lately and only rewatch mostly — all I can give you is actors I've enjoyed watching on more than one films!!

George Clooney

Ben Stiller

Jennifer Lawrence

Michelle Pfeiffer

Mel Gibson

Nicolas Cage

—

*catching my breath* THANKS FOR THE ASKS, ANON. I hope I made sense!!

#asks #personal

[stonewallsposts]

16 personalities questions: 13-15

13. You are more inclined to follow your head than your heart 

I already discussed this somewhat in the section on sentimental. 

I'm assuming 'follow your head' means 'rationally think about what should be done'. "Follow your heart' means 'go with whatever you happen to feel in the moment'.  

I want to say, of course I try to follow my head. But we humans are really good at justifying irrational actions. Which of course pays a compliment to the rational side by trying to make the irrational decisions sound rational. 

There are areas in my life where I know rationally I want to do one thing, but I don't end up doing that. One of the stupid areas is on my diet. I know that if I'm consistent with counting calories and staying under my maintenance allotment, I will lose weight. I want to lose weight. I'm sick and tired of my stomach being this big. I used to have a flat stomach with an awesome six pack. I used to be muscular. I look like a lump in comparison now. I can lose that weight if I just stick with it. I'd look better, I'd feel better, I'd fit in better clothes. There's no good reason to not lose weight. Except for it takes discipline and not eating more of the stuff I want to eat. The fact that I'm so wishy-washy...  is that a triumph of heart over head?  

I have one area in particular where my heart continually pulls at me to do something that would be irrational. The fact that I can't seem to let it go would tell me that the pull of the heart is probably stronger than the head.  

But this whole think makes me think, if the head is so much better, why do we have the heart? 

I'm gonna explore this more, but in a different post. For now, not sure, but I'm pretty certain that the dichotomy, while it may be useful, is also somewhat muddled. 

Both seem like basic senses we utilize in order to make sense of a situation. Yeah, I'm not sure how to answer this one right now. 

14. You usually prefer just doing what you feel like at any given moment instead of planning a particular daily routine 

If left to my own, I prefer not having a particular plan. But if I have responsibilities, I do usually like a plan because I recognize I'm not so capable of mentally organizing myself. My preferred weekends are the ones where I don't have anything in particular to do. I mean I always have to go grocery shopping for my mom and aunt, and then mom looks forward to that time when I visit her too. She can't get out of the house without help, so she really needs us to come visit her. So that's an "every weekend" obligation that I have to take care of. That makes it sound like I don't want to do it, which isn't true, but anything that you have to do turns into an obligation sooner or later. 

This one may be one of the simpler answers for me to give. 

15. You rarely worry about whether you make a good impression on people you meet 

I want people to like me. I consider this a character flaw I have. Or if not exactly a flaw, something I definitely need to work on. Of course, I'm not sure if I want to be the kind of person who absolutely doesn't care at all what kind of impression he makes. My guess is that person would not be much fun to be around, but I may be wrong. 

I would much rather be liked by people. So I do want to make a good impression on people. But as I read the question, it's about how much I worry about this. So maybe a more careful reading would be that I probably don't actually 'worry' about this. I want people to like me, but in the rare instances I don't, do I worry about it, not really. Especially if I've just met them. I've enough experience with people to believe I'm generally a decent person that people like. If I find someone who disagrees, I chalk it up to not being their cup of tea and that's fine.  

But while I want people to like me, and I don't worry if they don't, do I worry about making a good impression? In trying to think what that would look like, I guess I'd want them think I'm friendly, concerned about them, and hopefully they'll think I have a sense of humor. I think I don't worry about this. Mainly because I believe those things will come through. 

There we go, question answered. I rarely worry about whether I make a good impression on people I meet. 

[falcqns]

Aurorra

Pairing: Dad!Henry Cavill x Single Mom!Reader

Summary: Henry meets his daughter for the first time.

Warnings: fluff, slight angst. Dad!Henry

A/N: I don't know why I'm a sucker for these types of stories but I am. Hope you enjoy!

It's been two years and two days exactly since you and Henry had broken up.

It had been one year, one month, and two weeks exactly since you had given birth to his daughter, the daughter he had no idea existed.

It hadn't been a particularly nasty break up or anything, but both of you were hurting. You both wanted the relationship to work out, and when it didn't, you were both too heartbroken to even remain friends.

You had moved away from London not long after the breakup, deciding to live in Manchester, which was closer to your family. When you found out you were pregnant, you had tried to call him, but he had blocked your number. You had no way of contacting him other than through instagram, but he had unfollowed you and you knew your message would get lost in the thousands he received a day if you tried that.

You had no way of contacting his family either. You didn't know what to do. You had told your family, and they were insanely happy for you, even though you were going to be a single mother. When your mom had sat down and told you her and your father would do anything to help and support you through whatever decision you made, you knew the answer.

You were going to be a single mother.

When your daughter Aurorra Enola Cavill was born nine months later, you knew you made the right choice. Being a single mother may not have been what you were planning in life, but holding your blue eyed and brown curly haired baby in your arms for the first time, you knew it was what you were meant to do.

Aurorra had become your little bestie. She was such a well behaved baby. She rarely cried, slept through the night not long after she turned a week old, and was always full of smiles that were clearly from her father. There was never any doubt in your mind that she was Henry's, and every time you looked at her and saw her blue eyes, brown hair, and her cuddly chunky body, it only solidified that fact.

Aurorra had just turned 13 months old, and your job transferred you back to London, so you and Aurorra had just made the big move back.

You had opted to move back to the same neighbourhood both because of the safety of it, and because you knew you'd have a good chance of running into Henry. You had thought about it for months on end, and knew he couldn't be kept in the dark any more.

You had just finished unpacking the last box in the bedroom, when Aurorra woke up from her afternoon nap. You changed her and the two of you headed out to ASDA to get some groceries.

You pulled in the driveway and saw car that looked similar to Henry's BMW, but you didn't think anything of it. You parked and got a less than happy Aurorra out of her carseat and strapped her into the cart before heading on your shopping journey.

You had made it through the fruits and vegetables, and was heading to the freezer section to grab frozen fruit for the growing 13 month old, when you saw a familiar back in the same aisle.

It was Henry. There was no doubt about that. He was wearing a white knitted cardigan, with faded blue jeans, and running shoes. From the top of his cardigan you saw a dark blue t shirt poking out. His hair was slightly messy, but still curly. He was reading the nutrition information on the back of a frozen energy bowl, and you quietly opened the fridge, hoping to grab what you needed from this aisle and escape without him noticing you.

You had gone over seeing him again a million times in your head, and in no way did you plan on it being in the grocery store with other people around.

But, 13 month olds have a mind of their own. At that moment, Aurorra saw a popsicle package with the characters from her favourite show, Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Cat Noir, and proceeded to squeal and call your attention.

"Mama!" She squealed and pointed a chunky hand at the popsicles. "Bug!" You glanced up and Henry and watched as he did a double take back at you. His eye brow furrowed, but you ignored him, instead turning to your baby.

"Yes, that is Ladybug. Would you like them?" You asked, and she nodded eagerly. You smiled and grabbed them out of the freezer once you noticed they were organic. "Say thank you," You prompted, and she brought the same chunky hand up to her chin and then down flat towards you. It wasn't the most perfect sign, but she was still learning.

You saw Henry walk up to you and had to steel yourself for the coming conversation. "Y/N?" He asked, and you turned around to face him.

"Hi, Henry." You said, placing the popsicles in the cart with the rest of your groceries. He smiled at you, and then glanced at Aurorra. She smiled and cooed at him and he smiled back, and stroked her cheek. "Hows everything," you asked, trying to avoid the question you knew was about to come.

"Everything's good. Kal misses you. Still sleeps with the teddy you got him," He said, his eyes locked on your daughter. You smiled.

"Well, tell him I miss him too. Now, if you'll excuse me, we're running a little late. I have to get home and get her fed." You said, but before you could move the cart Henry asked you the question.

"I-is she mine?" He asked, and you nodded, trying to swallow the lump that had been forming in your throat, to no avail.

"Y-Yes." You stuttered, and seconds later, Henry's arms enveloped you. "I-Im sorry," You whimpered, and Henry shushed you.

"Its okay. Let's not talk about it here. How about I meet you at your place once were both done?" He suggested, and you agreed, before giving him your address.

"Okay. I'll see you there." he said, giving you another hug, and pressing a kiss to the top of Aurorra's hand that had curled around his pointer finger. He stroked her cheek once more, before giving you both a smile, and heading off. He grabbed his cart with groceries, and made his way towards the checkout.

By the time you had finished shopping and made it home, Henry was parked in the driveway. You took a deep breath, and got out, giving him a smile. He returned it, and got out of his car before walking over to help you.

He grabbed the groceries, leaving you to grab Aurorra, who squealed at the sight of Henry. Henry chuckled, and blew her a kiss. He followed the two of you inside. You set Aurorra down, who stumbled on her own feet before stabilizing, her empty bottle in the right hand.

"Go put your baba in the kitchen please," You said, and she babbled to herself as she walked off, ignoring you and Henry.

"She's absolutely adorable," Henry said, and you smiled. "Well, she is your daughter," You said. Henry threw his head back and laughed before following you into the kitchen.

You set the bags down on the ground and turned to put away the ones Henry set on the counter. You two made small talk while putting away the groceries, mainly about work. You heard ruffling behind you but didn't think anything of it, as Aurorra usually liked to help put away the soup cans.

"Mama?" You heard a little voice ask and you turned around to face Aurorra. She was holding the box of popsicles out to you in one hand, while her other hand made a clockwise motion on her chest, signing please.

You smiled and took the box from her.

"After dinner, okay?" You said, and she didn't like that very much. She plopped on her butt and began to cry.

Her arms reached up to where the popsicles were and sobbed her little heart out. Henry's heart melted and scooped her up. "It's okay baby girl," He said, bouncing her. She sniffled, but calmed down and laid her head on his shoulder. He smiled in happiness, and pressed a kiss to her curly head.

He turned to you. "I just realized, I don't know her name," he said, and you smacked your head.

"Shit sorry, I completely forgot to mention that. Her names Aurorra Enola Cavill. I made sure she got your last name, and that you're on the birth certificate." You said, running your hands through her curly hair.

"Enola? Like Enola Holmes?" He asked, as Aurorra cuddled closer, her chunky arms wrapping around his neck. You nodded.

"Yeah. I couldn't think of a middle name for her, and I was watching Enola Holmes just before she was born. It was the scene where Sherlock and Mycroft see Enola on the train platform and you say her name. I knew then it was perfect." You said, and Henry smiled.

"It's a beautiful name," he said, wrapping his free arm around you. The three of you stood there for a few minutes, before Aurorra shook her hands at you, and tried to wiggle out of Henry's arms.

"Ah dun, Mama." She said. Henry pressed a kiss to her chunky cheek, and let her onto the floor. She scurried away seconds later, towards her bedroom.

"Is she okay wandering by herself?" He asked, watching her little body fall to her hands and knees, but get up and brush it off before continuing on her mission.

"Yeah she'll be fine. She's just going to play." You said, and Henry nodded before pulling you into his arms fully.

"I really am sorry I didn't tell you about her. I couldn't contact you or anyone in your family, and I didn't have the energy during my pregnancy or after to make the journey to London. I promise I didn't plan on hiding her forever." You said, and Henry squeezed you even tighter.

"It's okay. I know you'd never do something like that on purpose. You've done an amazing job raising her. I just wish I had witnessed it."

"You'll get to see her grow. You might have missed her start life, but I have everything recorded. Her first breath, her first steps, her first words, all of it. I know it's not the sam-" You said, but were cut off by his lips.

His hand travelled up to cup your face, before he pulled away. "Sorry. I shouldn't have done that. I just- You amaze me, you know that?" He said and you giggled.

"How so?" You questioned.

He rested his forehead on yours before continuing. "You thought to record everything. You made sure she has my last name and that I'm on the birth certificate. You didn't have to do that, but you did. I've missed you so much, and I didn't know just how much until I saw you in ASDA. I never should have left. I never should have blocked you." He said, a tear falling from his blue eyes. "I'm so sorry you had to go through all of that alone. Thats never what I wanted. But, I promise to be the best dad to her, whether we're together or not."

"I know you will be," You said, and pulled Henry in for another kiss.

The groceries were put away a few minutes later and you told Henry to go and play with Aurorra while you cooked, which he happily did.

He walked down the hallway to her bedroom, and smiled lovingly when he saw his daughter sitting on the ground playing with blocks, a stuffed Akita just like Kal secure under her arm. She was babbling to a Mickey Mouse toy that sat in the corner of the room, and was stacking blocks.

Henry began to walk in the room when she stopped babbling let out a sneeze and a sigh. He grabbed a Kleenex from the change table and sat down next to her.

"Hey sweetheart, can I wipe your nose?" Henry asked, seeing the snot coming from her nose due to the sneeze. She looked up at him and giggled, which Henry took as a yes, and he wiped her nose quickly before disposing of it in the garbage can.

She began babbling again, and pushed the Akita stuffy into his hands. "Goggy," She said, and clapped, which made Henry smile.

"It is a doggy. I have a doggy like your stuffy, wanna see?" He asked, and she nodded and clapped.

Henry pulled out his phone and pulled up a picture of Kal. Aurorra stood up and clambered into his lap, which Henry welcomed. When she saw the picture of Kal, she started bouncing and clapping again.

"Goggy! Goggy wun!" She exclaimed when he showed her a video of him running.

"Thats right, he is running. He's really good at it too, believe me." Henry said and put his phone away. Aurorra stood up and reached out her arm for him, opening and closing her fist. Henry stood up, and let her take his big hand in her tiny one, and lead him out of the room, and towards the back door that led to the backyard, babbling the entire way.

"Hold on, honey, we gotta tell Mama we're going outside, okay?" He said and she nodded before running to the kitchen shouting Mama.

Henry watched as she stood in the doorway and babbled before pointing at the door. She held her hand in front of her face and moved it out, closing it into a fist.

"You're going outside?" You asked, and she nodded. Henry saw you bend down and whisper something into her ear with a smile on your face and Aurorra giggle but didn't think much of it, before his little girl was running towards him and squealing.

He scooped her up and carried her out the door. She pointed at the toy box in the corner of the yard and Henry carried her over. He sat her down and opened it, before letting her pick what she wanted to play with. She grabbed a bucket with shovels and molds before running over to the lady bug sandbox and patting the lid. Henry chuckled and pulled the lid off.

"You wanna play in the sand?" He asked, and she nodded before climbing in.

Henry sat down next to her, and a shovel was thrust into his hand seconds later. She had a bright yellow one in her own hand and was digging a hole. Henry followed suit and helped her dig the hole.

A few minutes later she handed Henry a elephant mold.

"Put, Dada." She said, and Henry's breath caught in his throat, the mold falling from his hand.

"Did you say Dada?" He asked her, tears clouding his vision, and he saw her smile and point at the house.

"Mama, say." she said, picking up the elephant mold again.

"Mama told you I'm your Dada?"

She nodded and shook the mold in his face, practically begging him to take it. Henry smiled and pulled her out of the sand box, into his arms.

"I am your Dada, and I promise you I will love you forever." He said, and kissed her cheeks. She giggled before pointing at the sand box and doing grabby hands. Henry chuckled but put her back where she was. He picked up the mold and began to fill it with sand before she got upset.

"I apologize for interrupting your playtime," He said. "Now, lets make some animals."

Later that night, when Aurorra had been fed and put to bed, Henry pressed another kiss to your lips.

"She called me Dada when we were playing outside." He confessed and your eyes lit up.

"Really? I told her before she went out with you that you were her Dada, I wasn't expecting her to say it so soon!" You exclaimed. Henry chuckled, and pulled you into his lap.

"I'm so happy she did. Thank you for giving me her." He said, pressing his lips to yours before you could respond.

#henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill x y/n #Henry Cavill fluff #henry cavill angst #henry cavill imagine #Henry Cavill x reader #Henry Cavill x you #dad!henry cavill #Henry Cavill x single mom!reader #Henry Cavill fanfiction

[dreamertrilogys]

saying your names, richard siken / nice2knou, all time low / @pragmaticam / the loneliest sweet potato, sabrina benaim / invisible fish, joy harjo / lost in the supermarket, the clash / the glass essay, anne carson / you are jeff, richard siken / @retropopcult / hard feelings/loveless, lorde / the book of delights, ross gay / bag of bones, mitski / boot theory, richard siken / @th3-n30n-d3m0n​ / a supermarket in california, allen ginsberg / source unknown / cynicism at a supermarket, hedonic nihilist / punisher, phoebe bridgers / @suffer-rosa​ / @inthefields / grey tickles, black pressure, john grant / @elijahreblogs​ / @itsmieille / shopping for yesterday, adrian wait / @alexsiple / perfection, and this your living kiss / love in the supermarket, bardo / my north market, nate pentz / supermarket blues, bobby gross / loneliness in supermarkets, mateuš conrad / the raven cycle, maggie stiefvater

[ID: image 1: "I'm saying your name in the grocery store"

image 2: "We always say that we'll keep in touch / Nobody does, but it don't matter much / One last call at the corner store"

image 3: a comic panel of a woman dricing her car, saying "I'VE GOT A TANK FULL OF GAS AND A HEAD FULL OF DREAMS. TIME TO GO TO THE GROCERY STORE FOR NO REASON."

image 4: "So, I'm at the grocery store because I feel sad."

image 5: "Invisible fish swim this ghost ocean now described by waves of sand, by water-worn rock. Soon the fish will learn to walk. Then humans will come ashore and paint dreams on the dying stone. Then later, much later, the ocean floor will be punctuated by Chevy trucks, carrying the dreamers’ decendants, who are going to the store."

image 6: "I'm all lost in the supermarket / I can no longer shop happily / I came in here for that special offer / A guaranteed personality"

image 7: "The shadowless light makes him look immortal,"

image 8: "After work you go to the grocery store to get some milk and a carton of / cigarettes. Where did you get those bruises? You don’t remember. / Work was boring. You find a jar of bruise cream and a can of stewed / tomatoes. Maybe a salad? Spinach, walnuts, blue cheese, apples, and / you can’t decide between the Extra Large or Jumbo black olives. Which / is bigger anyway? Extra Large has a blue label, Jumbo has a purple / label. Both cans cost $1.29. While you’re deciding, the afternoon light / is streaming through the windows behind the bank of checkout coun- / ters. Take the light inside you like a blessing, like a knee in the chest, / holding onto it and not letting it go. Now let it go."

image 9: an image of a retro grocery store

image 10: "But I still remember everything / How we'd drift buying groceries, how you'd dance for me"

image 11: "I dreamed a few years back that I was in a supermarket checking out when I had the stark and luminous and devastating realization -in that clear way, not that oh yeah way- that my life would end. I wept in line watching people go by their carts, watching the cashier move items over the scanner, feeling such an absolute love for this life. And the mundane fact of buying groceries with other people whom I do not know, like all the banalities, would be no more so soon, or now. Good as now."

image 12: "Fluorescent store lights, you shine through the night / Illuminate my pores, and you tear me apart / Mercy on me, would you please spare me tonight / I'm tired of this searching, would you let me let go"

image 13: "A man walks into a convenience store, still you, saying: / I only wanted something simple, something generic..."

image 14: a picture of the door to a convenience store, its edited and the entire photo is bright neon

image 15: "In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations! / What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!—and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?"

image 16: a picture of a empty grocery store, fluorescent lights reflecting on the tile floor

image 17: "I propose that we are all products in an / increasingly capitalistic market // No one wants you in the end"

image 18: "The drugstores are open all night / The only real reason I moved to the east side / I love a good place to hide in plain sight"

image 19: "Do sane people haunt the aisles of grocery stores in search of some sensibility?"

image 20: "Time does not exist inside of a supermarket. People walk in with lists and cravings and they're out automatic"

image 21: a picture of a somewhat rundown grocery store

image 22: "I often stand and stare / At nothing in the grocery store / Because I do not know / What to buy to eat any more"

image 23: "You enter the same grocery store you’ve been going to for years. The layout is entirely different. You don’t recognize any of the employees. The only thing linking it to the previous times you’ve been here is the faded tile floor."

image 24: a drawing of a supermarket, the view is from above, and you can see the aisles

image 25: "Busy crowds, lonly hearts, broken dreams / Shopping for yesterday. / Visiting the shared moments, / In all the familiar places / When shopping for yesterday."

image 26: a drawing of an aisle in a grocery store

image 27: "Those nights in that in-between time / In in-between spaces, / Truck stops and 24-hour diners / From bygone eras and unforgiving lights all / Left up bright,"

image 28: "I could spend my life in the supermarket, going around the aisles / Walking among the plentiful and the abundant / Looking for things to help plug the holes inside, / Looking for something, hungry for something, I don't know what / But something that probably can't be found on shelves / Something that was maybe lost a long time ago."

image 29: a picture of a grocery store at night, taken from outside

image 30: "I'm a lost child in the supermarket / Looking for my mom / I have no idea where to look"

image 31: "at the local (supermarket) - / and i can't feel the bitter loneliness / while walking down an aisle / of ready-meals... // to be honest, walking in a graveyard / gives me a more cheerful aura / than walking in the supermarket..."

image 32: "but tonight, under the fluorescent lights of Dollar City," /END ID]

#words #poetry #web weaving #compilations #parallels #richard siken #mitski #trc #anne carson #allen ginsberg #joy harjo #phoebe bridgers #lorde #the clash #atl #grocery store tag #john grant #*mine #my parallels #3 am #w #p

[blackbat05]

Period Shenanigans

Shangqi x Reader

A/N: Lol so my period came one week earlier than what my period tracker stated? But thank goodness I’m at home and I don’t have any schedules because I would be dead. I try not to arrange anything if I can help it especially on my first few days. What I write is what I experience and what helps me during my period but disclaimer, it may not work for everyone! Hope you liked this impromptu idea that came out of my head. I’m finally done with 10 weeks of placement! Just a little more~ Like and comment if you wish! 

Genre: PG-13

Warnings: Shangqi not being like most men and being so caring? Blood (but come on if you can see blood on action movies why not this?) and a whole load of fluff I guess? Oh an one explicit word too haha 

The two of you come back from your morning runs as usual. Shower and breakfast was next. But after thirty minutes you didn’t come out of your room.

Shangqi decides to make a visit to make sure that nothing happened to you. ‘Y/N?’ He knocks on your door first. ‘You ok?’ He pressed his ear against the door, straining his ears. All he heard was a few unintelligible muffles. ‘I’m coming in ok?’

He made sure that he received your acknowledgement before slowly opening the door. There you were, crawled up on your bed, a hot pack on your tummy.

‘Fuck…’ you groaned as you tried to find the best position. Couldn’t you just live like a normal human being during this time of the month? Evidently god had other plans.

Let’s face it, at this moment you would have been embarrassed for Shangqi to see you in this state. But first, you were too tired to even care. Second, Shangqi was best friends with Katy before he met you. Surely he had seen enough.

He knows the protocol at the back of his head. Giving you a few reassuring taps on the shoulder, he leaves your room to prepare the essentials.

Tea, painkillers, sliced bananas and your favorite chocolate biscuits. Oh, don’t forget your humongous stuffed penguin that laid at the corner of your room but you were unable to get because of the pain that had nearly paralyzed you.

‘And the portable phone charger because I know you’ll be watching Running Man non stop,’ he passes you the object in question. ‘Be careful not to burst you appendix while laughing ok?’

You punched his shoulder lightly as a form of thanks. ‘What the hell would I do without you Shangqi,’ you adjusted your position to achieve maximum comfort on the bed. ‘Come on, watch with me,’ gesturing for him to sit next to you.

For the next 3 hours or so, you spend a good time with Shangqi laughing at the antics that the show provided. It was a good way to ignore the pain that was slowly going away by the minute.

Having your period meant that you were more tired than usual. After sipping the last bit of tea, you eyes felt heavier by the minute, eventually nodding off on Shangqi’s shoulder.

He slowly cradles your head, bringing it down on the pillow. Making sure that the blanket covered you, he cleaned the remaining stuff before leaving your room.

Sleep definitely helped. You woke up about an hour later to the unmistakable smell of macaroni soup boiling. Still in Shangqi’s oversized hoodie, you carried the stuffed penguin out like a little kid, making your way towards the kitchen.

There he was, donning an apron that said ‘World’s Best Cook’.

‘That’s kind of an exaggeration don’t you think?’ You teased, causing him to turn around. ‘Well, I must have woke you up because of this wonderful smell,’ he jokes back, taking a sip of the soup to test its taste. Satisfied, he closes back the lid to let it boil a bit more.

You appreciated what he did for you whenever your first few days of Niagara Falls proved to be physically taxing on you. But you just had one question…

‘When did you learn to cook Macaroni soup?’

‘Uh well,’ he sheepishly scratches the back of his head. ‘I called your mom earlier while you were asleep. She was kind enough to give me a idiot proof recipe for a cooking newbie like me.’

Appreciated? Scratch that out. You were stunned that he actually went to such lengths to make you feel better. You remembered when you were younger, your mother would cook you a bowl of warm macaroni soup. The chicken broth was light and easy on the stomach but still very filling.

Shangqi notices that you’re just standing there, not saying a word. He worries that maybe he went too far. Should he apologize? Should he just tell you that he wanted to help? Should he-

You come forward to hug him. ‘Thank you Shangqi. I’m probably saying this too many times for my own good but this means a lot to me.’

Wanda and Vision just came back from their Sunday grocery shopping. As Vision was about to walk through the walls to get through the kitchen, Wanda stops him.

‘What is it dear?’

‘I think we can wait. We don’t have any cold things to put in the fridge right?’ Vision shakes his head as he followed her looking very puzzled.

Wanda could see you and Shangqi at the kitchen counter. He was standing across you, eagerly watching you take the first sip, as if waiting for a stamp of approval. Your genuine reaction brings a huge smile to his face as he starts telling you his adventures in the kitchen, you laughing at his exaggerated account multiple times.

The two of you were basically in your own world.

Wanda was like a big sister to you since you came here from Madripoor. She felt herself constantly needing to protect you as despite your abilities, your kind heart served as a danger out in the field.

But ever since you knew the Martial Arts master, Wanda felt like she did not have to worry anymore. She knew that you were surrounded by good friends who would have your back out on the field and for this instance - when you weren’t feeling your best.

She quickly makes her leave before you spot her.

But Shangqi did as he was facing the door. He sees the sorceress put a finger to her lips. So he naturally goes back to the conversation with you.

While you finish the last bit of soup, Shangqi takes a quick peek at the entrance again. Wanda was still there but this time it looked like she had something to say to him. She must have used her abilities as his brain suddenly felt strange.

‘Thank you Shangqi for being with her.’

A/N: Yo this was supposed to be a period headcanon? Or is it just my hormones speaking that makes me unusually emotional. Anyways, hope you enjoyed another Shangqi headcanon again!😂 You have my period to thank for that.

Also can I just say I think my standards have changed? Like if a guy’s really considerate to me on my period like hell I think that’s just really neat in my books because unfortunately I haven’t come across any in real life🥲

#shang chi #xu shangqi #shangqi imagine #shangqi x reader #shang chi x reader #shangqi