#most adults don't wanna talk to them so they're happy to let you give them all the attention

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I know theres a lot ot talk of Hobie's past and I love the idea of BigFamily!Hobie. But may I PLEASE add to the table:

StreetKid!Hobie -

It's not as happy or wholesome of a backstory as Hobie with a big family, and a big community - but there's still tenderness there I PROMISE.

Like - Maybe Hobie understood what Gwen was going through because he's been through it himself. He knows what it's like.

I like the headcanon that Hobie just...didn't have a family. No tragic backstory or anything. Just the sharp reality that the system lets some kids fall through the cracks.

Because it's a story or reality we hardly ever see, but it's one that exists - being a homeless street kid. We hardly see that story in it's entirety, rather than just the dramatic scenes.

But like STREETKID!HOBIE

He doesn't have anyone to take him to school or buy him uniforms - so he went to the library to teach himself. He doesn't have much money, but the men at the kebab shops know him, the kid that comes in asking for 'anything they've got' , with 2 pounds 50 pence. So they start feeding him, free of charge.

He helps run errands for the old ladies, and they make sure he has clothes for the winter. They'll knit him sweaters and scarves, and give them to him, telling him to run home and get inside, not knowing that might not be an option for him.

But even if they don't know the whole story, the know Hobie the streetkid, who looks tough but has a heart of gold and will help with anything - the kid who'll feed the stray cats before himself.

Most nights, he sleeps at F.E.A.S.T - because we always talk about how great F.E.A.S.T is but never what it's like to actually have to live there as a homeless person for an extended period of time.

The adults know his face, they worry if they don't see him in a bit. They set blankets aside for him, ask him if he's eaten, and for the first time in forever, maybe in his life, he has people who cares - people who want to help.

F.E.A.S.T makes Hobie wanna help people.

And THAT's where he finds his family.

He starts finding other kids too. Older Streetkids start helping him out. They let him squat with them, and show him how to do things like steal electronics, and which shops throw out a bunch of good food at night.

And he starts meeting people, and seeing the teens that'll make him person he is later.

He starts hanging out with them more and more - and they start calling him Hobie.

The take him under their wing. They looked out for him, made sure nobody messed with the youngest of the bunch.

Anywhere they sleep or squat - Hobie does too. And on the nights that it's the worse, that's it too much, or too scary - or the nights where he's just angry at the world,

They're there to remind him there's kindness in the world.

That kindness and joy and having a laugh with the mandem is RADICAL, it's an act of defiance, and a form of power. And that you don't need a big house with the picket fence and 2.5 kids to grow up 'right'.

One of the street kids give him his first patches. They snag him the leather vest he wears today, back when he was tiny and short and he had grow into it.

They taught him everything he knows - from laces code to how to stud a jacket. They start taking him to protests, starts explaining why things are the way they are, how the system is meant to keep people like them down.

They teach him what ACAB means and true anarchy

The first person he ever met wearing blue laces - was a Streetkid. An older kid that Hobie couldn't help but look up to, or even be a little jealous of. A cooler kid with tall leather boots and blue laces.

And when the kid smirked and told him what they meant, Hobie couldn't help but think 'That's SO kickass'.

One night, one of the kids brings a record they stole. They play it on the player - and it's Ramones. Hobie, maybe only 13, hearing rock for the first time.

And he's wide eyed and asking who that is, who's playing the guitar, what's the song name, and the older kids just smirk and chuckle cause they KNOW -

That's when Hobie falls in love with rock.

And Hobie spends his teens with these people, becoming the punk rock anarchist god he is. He learns how to help people like they help him.

Some of those kids are still around, some on their feet now, and some living free, sticking with the life of a Streetkid by choice. Some he sees often - they're the ones he has a laugh with at the pub.

Others, have moved on, or passed away.

And one day Hobie looks around and realizes he's the oldest one now. He looks around and realizes he's the older street kid now. He's the big bro - and he loves it.

Gwen wasn't the only one staying there when she lived with him. She's not the first Society recruit either.

Because of the streetkids that gave him a family, Hobie is who he is - he has a houseboat that always has at least one or two kids staying there, just looking for a place to stay or a meal to eat.

No matter what - Hobie will help.

At to all the StreetKids that came before, Hobie remembers them all - all the help they gave him and all the times they saved him. He hopes that one day, there are people to remember him too, the same way.

Because that's what he wants to be remembered for.

Because he's not a hero - SpiderPunk isn't the hero. Those streetkids were the heroes.

They way they helped him - is the way he helped Gwen.

I need more StreetKid!Hobie SO BAD S OBADDDDLLY

What if Hobie's brown ideology and fashion and beliefs and his love for everyone around him is a reflection of the very teens who raised him and kept him safe and they're the reason why he does any of this to begin with for the streetkids MY GOODDDDDD

HOBIE BROWN - THE PATRON SAINT OF WARWARD TEENS

[arcadekitten]

Hello! Before I ask anything, I just want to say that I really adore your games. I've been interested in INMIMB since I saw Gloom's playthrough a  couple years ago, and I just really enjoy them in general. I've been searching everywhere for places to play them but I can't find them (I've only played  INMIMB, and it was sooooo good) so a little advice would be nice. I have a few questions (mostly about Embry bc they're my favorite and i love them sm) You don't have to answer anything if you don't want to, but it'd be nice if you did since I love you and your content and I think you're awesome :)

Okay, so a few questions:

1) I've seen someone ask if Dr d light had a favorite flower and I remember you answering sunflower, so just wondering if Embry has one?

2) is Embry's middle name confirmed or do we have to theorize about it forever? (I wouldn't know if you've talked about it since I only joined Tumblr a few days ago and it's tiring to scroll through blogs lol)

3) What's your opinion on Embry x Ryo as a romantic pairing? I'm asking this one for very personal reasons and I really don't want to make you uncomfortable by shipping it because I relate to Embry a lot and them having a partner just gives me a sense of comfort. Like it makes me feel warm inside.

4) Is Embry more of a chorus kid, a band kid, or an orchestra kid? (This is based on the context of my middle school where we have to pick a certain type of music for the whole damn year. I don't know if other schools do that but it's what I'm used to, and personally, I see them as a chorus kid because like I said, I relate to them a lot and I am a chorus kid.)

5) Does Embry have a specific preference with clothing, as in fem or masc, or do they just wear whatever? Just asking because I see them more often in masc outfits than I see them in fem.

6) are there any confirmed specific ages for any of the characters? I get the general idea that the tricks n treats group is all kids and the cemetery mary cast is all adults, but I'm just curious if there's anything specific.

7.  Dr d light's color scheme is very close to the pansexual flag (like literally you could take away the black and white and boom) so I'm just wondering if that's a coincidence or not.

Sorry that this was so long! You don't have to answer any of these (especially number 3 if it makes you uncomfortable) but I just wanna let you know that I think you're really amazing and even if I haven't played all your games yet, I'm positive I'm going to enjoy every single moment of every single game and I hope that makes you as happy as it makes me. So just....you're awesome, your games are awesome, and I'm really excited for the answers to these questions if you feel comfortable answering them.<3

(also one more thing: what are your fans called? Like Taylor swift has swifties, but what do you call us? Just wondering:))

Thank you! I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my games so much!! ♡ All of my games are available to download (for free!) on my itch.io account here: arcadekitten.itch.io

I will try to answer your questions the best I can!

Not sure! Maybe something purple or white like the kind of flowers they'd grow with their mom, but I don't have anything exact yet. ---

Nothing confirmed but I don't think it has to be a "theory" thing either. It's just a name beginning with G and there's nothing more complex to it than that! ---

I don't answer questions about ships unless they're ships I've explicitly shown interest in already (Ex: Mary x Reginald, Capella x Most Circus Members, etc). You can read more about why this is on my FAQ: https://arcadekitten.tumblr.com/faq ---

I don't think Embry is a music kid at all! They are more of a gardening + artwork kid! ---

I feel like Embry's style of clothing is heavily androgynous and it's just that androgyny is sooner associated with masculinity than femininity. Sometimes their outfits might lean more one way than another but in general I keep them pretty androgynous. ---

Nope! I don't do specific ages, just age-ranges. ---

Entirely coincidence! He currently has no confirmed orientation + sometimes colors just look nice together

Thank you very much again for your kind words!! You are terrifically sweet and I do so hope you enjoy my other games as well whenever you may have the chance to play them or interact with them! ♡

Also, I'm not really concerned with fan names! I think someone could just say they're a fan of my work and that's good enough!

[tokuteasings]

Have any general headcanons for mbjr brotps?

YOU FUCKING KNOW IT BECAUSE I LOVE THEM SO MUCH THAT I CANNOT SHUT THE FUCK UP ABOUT THEM-

This is going to be centered within MBJR themselves but if you wanna ask about BroTPs outside of MBJR, lemme know~! I can go on and on about these guys and how Aruto basically has tried to adopt them and the YuaNaki brotop and the IkaAruto brotp listen i got so much

Of course, we know Jin and Horobi are close as father and son but Horobi and Ikazuchi are these two absolute adult figures but while Horobi has mostly a level head, Ikazuchi is a bit more brash. He will jump to defend Horobi and Horobi has to physically hold him back. But honestly, these two are these older kindred souls that go out and just sit under a tree and look at the stars and talk philosophical things. Ikaika also tries to get Horobi out of Daybreak Town more and thus, tends to invite him to his workplace and planetarium. Subaru is always happy to see him and even though Horobi is slightly hesitant to get to know Subaru, he warms up to him and basically signed the adoption papers. In return, Horobi reminds Ikazuchi to relax and visits to "check up on him"

Horobi and Naki on the other hand are the two parents of MBJR. They tend to sit in silence most of the time and simply enjoy each other's company and often share books and things of the sort. IT's like a mini book club between them. Because of my headcanons that Horobi knits, he gives Naki a sort of scarf even though they don't need it. It's his silent way of showing that he cares. Naki is Horobi's reminder to take time to himself and relax, to enjoy life and if anything...Naki wants to help Horobi find a "dream" even if it's something small. It's one step at a time. Horobi is also fiercely protective of Naki as is Naki of Horobi and while all of MBJR would shoot Gai on sight, Horobi is rushing to get to his ass first just to stab him.

Ikazuchi and Naki share exactly one (1) brain cell and Naki has it most of the time. Ikazuchi is only allowed to have it because he's planning something that could either cause some sort of chaos or he's driving. He tends to rope Naki into dumb things (like how they tore off Gai's clothing) and records these moments to share in the MBJR group chat or to Aruto and Yua. These two are highly competitive with one another and Ikazuchi triggers Naki's feral brain half of the time. Don't let them play Mario Kart together because they can and will yell at each other. Naki on the other hand, is Ikazuchi's restraint half of the time but because they're being...influenced by Ikaika and Fuwa...sometimes they willingly join Ikazuchi on his escapades. Subaru is roped into this most of the time as well.

Naki and Jin on the other hand is more so Naki is the dotting sort of person who reminds Jin to take care of himself and Jin just replies with this cute, "I know~!" if Horobi is a hands-off but caring parent. Jin visits Naki at A.I.M.S often, just to hang out and chat and sometimes with Yua as well. He brings lunches for the humans and a new book for Naki to read. Compared to sitting in silence, Jin is always sitting in a chair beside Naki just watching them work oro stealing Naki's jacket because, "It's unfair that Naki has all the cool clothing!!!" and honestly, these two trade clothing the most out of all of MBJR.

Ikazuchi and Jin are just begging for trouble. Ikazuchi can restrain himself half of the time but most of the time, these two are egging each other on when it comes to like the dumbest fucking shit. Ikazuchi is bringing out his motorbike? Jin asks how fast he can drive that thing vs his own flying and suddenly you hear Yua being called up because those two got pulled over by some cops. But if anything, Ikazuchi is the person Jin goes to for spontaneous shopping trips. Sure he can ask for Horobi and he often does but Ikazuchi (and his knowledge of human things is better than the other's) knows things that Horobi doesn't and Ika is like friends with a lot of vendors and thus, they warm up to Jin too.

They all have made a "Subaru Protection Squad" because Subaru tends to visit Daybreak often whenever he isn't busy. He's still working out his own Singularity but with Ikazuchi by his side, he's gotten a lot better in understanding it. He went to MBJR to understand more about it and Horobi has basically adopted him. Sometimes Subaru makes deliveries to Naki just for the excuse to hang out with them and Jin is always barging into Subaru's personal space just to tackle him into a hug.

Now that Horobi and Jin have a much healthier relationship, Jin actively calls Horobi his father in public. Horobi also has begun collecting magnets since Jin draws a lot and hangs his drawings on the wall with the said magnets but has this framed picture of all of MBJR (Subaru included) on the wall as well.

[feralssinbin]

Sometimes It's Worth The Risk

AO3 YN likes robots. Like. Really likes robots. A robotfucker if you will. Or at least they say they are. Honestly, all they know about robots, androids, and animatronics is what they've picked up from television and movies, anime and sci-fi, and their real world experience with them is... Lacking. That isn't enough to stop them from following the dream and applying for a job at Freddy Fazbears Mega Pizzaplex, though! And oh man do they have plans on woo-ing the fuck out of their new co-worker... That... Has about the same sentience, sass, and social anxiety inducing mannerisms as your average human. Oh no. This isn't what they signed up for. This isn't what they signed up for at all. Worst of all, he's an absolute sweet heart about everything too??? Wait. Did he just flirt back??? OH god. Someone send help. Did I mention he's basically shirtless all the time? How is YN supposed to work in these conditions? Casual info: Aaa Ok right off this is a fun as hell idea I keep trying to work on but it keeps getting backburnered for HOE, lol. YN in this is kind of a dumbass. They are not smooth or charming, unless a bumbling mess is charming to anyone (surprise, it kind of is to Sun at least). They've always been fascinated with robotic characters and have had many crushes over the years on different characters, idealizing the logical, pre-programed ease with which you can sort of anticipate how interactions. Makes it easy. Especially after dealing with so much flack and 'playful' ridicule from loose tangled friend groups forced through social closeness of school or college or work. They're more than a little nervous at such an on-the-fly change in jobs, but once they meet and really see Sun and Moon in action, well, they're back on board. Though with even less confidence than they started with, there's no time like the present to make an idiot of themself. Lucky enough, their friendly attitude is well received. Though the overhanging anxiety of being made fun of still lingers behind it all, they try not to let it get to them. Well, until they do. Sun and Moon are both pretty loose in this so far, cause I've only planned 'general ideas' of scenes and I'm writing details on the fly. I want to say there's no virus in this and moon is just 'like that'. He is STILL active as the naptime attendant, though his time out during the day is typically reserved just for that. The on-off of lights are more free. Sun is sassy and playful, but when he's not interacting directly with kids, he's happy to meet YN on an adult level. Moon rarely dulls down his interactions with kids, giving them benefit of the doubt to be smart enough to know what he's talking about and doesn't sugar coat things like Sun might. Moon is... a little chaotic? Dangerous in a mild way, but still dangerous. He play a little rough/mean with adults, and isn't afraid to haul naughty kids around, but MOSTLY never means to really hurt anyone. He handles the security of the daycare though, and if an incident does happen, it would either fall to him, or an Eclipsed Sun, the standard dual mish mash of both bots active at once, though I haven't decided on if they'd just be dual wielding, or if Eclipse for this would be his own AI, if/when he comes up at all. FOR THE MOST PART this is the unabashed flirting AU with soft cheeky flirting early, a bit of 'they're making fun of me' angst in the middle, and some more nervous, genuine, heavier flirting late game when an actual relationship is on the table instead of just casual infatuation. Will jealousy be a part of it between Sun and Moon? Maybe just enough for flavor. I don't wanna go angsty with this one beyond YNs own anxieties to overcome.

Heck i need to design the YN for this one still. shoot. UH, problem for tomorrows me.

[yellowhollyhock]

Roches songs Donny analysis

Us Little Kids

Two three four

Humpty Dumpty go Humpty Dump dah dah dah

Remember how Donny likes to take apart the toaster? I imagine he was the kid who took apart whatever he could get his hands on. Probably sometimes his brothers' toys. His intention was always to put it back together! Chances are that didn't always end up happening.

I think, considering how little they had to call their own, breaking each other's things would be a big deal for the turtle tots. Maybe especially Donny, as much as gift giving is how he expresses himself. Whether he breaks something or something of his is broken, it cuts a little deeper than it probably should.

I get so sad

Just thinking of you

All the good time we had

I hurt your feelings

You hurt my feelings

But we had fun too

That's not so bad

SAINW. Mikey 'where the shell were you?!' Leo 'Raph. April's guys didn't say anything about you being here.' Raph 'Don? No way!' (zero anger towards him no questions immediate relief and acceptance. I'm fine) Things were so tense and in such a short time there was only so much he could understand, let alone do. I imagine he's a lot more sensitive about their relationships after that incident.

At the same time though--this never happens. No matter how much thy fight (they all do sometimes) this family has each other's backs. We had fun too--that's not so bad.

Is there a reason

These things happen

Like a snow day in July?

Sometimes I might cry

But then I snicker

That's the see saw

You and I

This really makes me think of Mikey. The idea of a see saw, like wow you really crossed a line this time, no we're not talking I'm annoyed--wait no please keep laughing keep smiling the world is so dark I need the light in your eyes. Forget it I'm not that annoyed.

Snow day in July--Leo going cold and being on everyone's case after Ch'rell goes to prison, when it seems like they should be relieved and celebrating.

See saw, us little kids, see saw

Look what we did

Watching the sun go down on a game

I wish we made up

I wish we made up

Sun go down on a game--Battle Nexus. Leo gets poisoned, Master Splinter's in prison--okay problems solved. And Mikey is the Battle Nexus champion! That's... good and bad. hoo boy forget being annoyed about him bragging how are you going to deal with what this causes between him and Raph. "I don't wanna see this."

Donny always seems particularly sensitive about conflict in the family. Doesn't like to be around it. Rolls his eyes and pouts. "One big happy family" <- the most sarcastic and bitter sentence we ever get from him I think. Normally his voice is like honey but boy his expression can be vinegar when he's upset.

Cool thing though--they did make up! They do make up, every time. His family deals with a lot of grief, but this isn't one of them, this particular regret. They always stick together

there's a lot he doesn't tell them

don't have to make up if you never fight can't fight if you never bring up problems

Wherever you are

I hope you're happy

Is that a stupid thing to say?

It is the simple things that matter

Perhaps I'll find you another way

Remembering what it felt like when Leo was away with the Ancient One. Also, thinking about Cody after Fast Forward. And Kirby, and Sydney, and the Ytlantians. I'll find you another way.

Leo most of all, though

Watching the sun go down on a game

I wish we made up

I wish we made up

Down down down

I feel lonely

Off and on now

But didn't I

When I was younger

Stand in my shadow

Without a friendship

Little worried

What I'd become

Can you imagine how the way they grew up affects them as adults? It's all great to think as one, to fight like a well-oiled machine. Until you have a job and you're trying to change the world but you're just one rusty gear turning uselessly. The turtles depend so much on each other--they had to. But then when they're adults with sever trauma, going separate ways because they just have different ways to go, all of a sudden no one can know what they're thinking just from sharing a look. Raph isn't here to speak up if something's unfair, do you even know what you think is unfair? Mikey's not here to be your resilience, you had a sense of humor you're sure you did, where is it? Leo's not there to be your courage--you always believed in your brothers, you always believed in yourself. Right? Or were you just borrowing his belief?

Shadows are a ninja's friend, but spending your childhood there has consequences

See saw, us little kids, see saw

Look what we did

Watching the sun go down on a game

I wish we made up

I wish we made up

Down down down

I wish we made up

I wish we made up

Hey, there were good times. There are good times ahead. That's what see saws do. Down and back up

[riverthebooknerd]

guys finding out that easter is this weekend was the worst fucking feeling i'm in tears rn and i need to talk about why because it's killing me

(tws in the tags)

couple weeks back, i got into an argument with my mom. she started yelling at me for a very poor reason and said some shitty things to me that i don't really wanna get into. she never apologized. neither of us have talked about it since. in fact, she's determined to pretend like nothing happened, and has been treating me like normal. i'm still very, very angry with her. i mean, she called me selfish and said that i didn't care about anyone else just because i said that i didn't want to go do something with her after she suddenly sprung it on me (nothing inappropriate/sexual, she's a jerk but not THAT kind of jerk.)

it always hits hard when my mom says shit like that. the last time it happened, i didn't eat for three days because she made a comment about how i was "living in her house and eating her food that she bought with her own hard-earned money." so, it's a weird mix of anger/guilt, because i'm technically an adult (just turned 18 not too long ago), but i am still living in her house for free.

in all honesty, she's the main reason why i hate asking for things. i always try to do things myself because my mom would call me ungrateful and selfish. yada yada, emotional abuse, something something, childhood trauma, yada yada, mommy issues. you get the idea.

but every year on easter, my parents give me and my siblings big baskets of candy- plus, my mom makes a huge dinner.

let me reiterate: i am still mad at my mom. i'm furious. i think that what she said to/about me was completely uncalled for, and i want an apology. she's been trying to act like nothing happened, but i'm not, and everyone can tell.

i don't know what i'm gonna do tomorrow.

plus, my parents want me to go to church with them. i stopped going as soon as i turned 18- i'm not religious, and they've known that for a while. for the most part, they don't push. the last time i went to church was at christmas, because they made a big fuss about my brothers and sister in law going. they're probably going to make a big fuss tomorrow, too, and refusing to go is the kind of thing that my mom yelled at me a couple weeks ago for in the first place.

so, basically, my easter is gonna be fucking miserable. i'm gonna be dragged to church, sit through an uncomfortably long service with a pastor preaching things that i don't believe in, talk to people at church about jesus and salvation (as someone who is VERY noticeably queer) while trying not to clue them in on the fact that i'm an atheist (because then they'll get all "awww poor you, you just need to believe in the lord and your life will get better, you'll burn in hell, why did you turn your back on the lord," etc etc). then, i get to go home and avoid talking to my mom as much as i can during a small family reunion, somehow get through the day without starting another argument or unnecessary drama, because my parents would fucking kill me if i ruin the holiday for them. then i'll have to act all fucking happy and grateful when they give me a bunch of chocolate that i didn't ask for while i got them nothing in return because i'm broke and i don't want to give my mom anything anyways. and THEN i'll have to sit through a long, awkward family dinner, probably being utterly ignored the entire time just like i always am, and force myself to eat enough on my plate that it's not seen as "ungrateful." that's not even mentioning all the underhanded jokes that will most likely be sent my way the whole fucking time.

god. i hate easter.

[casspurrjoybell-33]

Wreckless - Hide and Seek

*Warning Adult Content*

Finnegan

Em and Quincy make us go inside after that and play a game because we were in the sun all afternoon.

We decide to play Sorry and it's the best game ever.

We play for over an hour because we keep sliding and knocking people back to start.

We laugh so hard that I knock my cup over but luckily not much spills.

I let Rhys use my Spiderman cup and he loves it.

The big boys talk about stupid stuff during the game.

Like a travel coffee mug.

I don't know what that's about.

They say we sound like elephants when we run through the house.

They talk about jobs and cars a lot and I think it's good for Em to have a big friend just like I have Rhys.

Finally they decide to order pizza and promise that we can go out to swim afterwards, just like last night.

Well maybe not exactly like last night, there will be no lessons on the table.

Too bad.

While we wait, Rhys and I decide to play hide and seek.

The great thing is that the house is fairly empty, maybe because it's a rental.

Most of the closets have space instead of stuff which gives us lots of places to hide and makes it more fun.

I'm hiding under Em and my bed when I hear Rhys yell.

"Quincy, I can't find him. Help me, please?"

I try not to laugh because I saw him come in here like three times.

I'm in a good spot.

I hear them but they don't start in our room, they must be in the office.

I hid in that closet last time.

Finally I hear Quincy say...

"I'll look high and you look low, bunny."

"He's not here," Rhys whines. "I already looked."

"Look again bunny, look very carefully. Did you check behind the curtains?"

That's actually a good place, maybe I'll try it next.

"No," he says and I see them move.

"Not here, he's not anywhere Quincy."

"Did you see if he's hiding with the bed monster?"

I see him plop to his knees and I move quick so that when his face comes down, mine is right there.

He jerks back and then laughs.

"Finn. I found him Quincy."

The doorbell rings and we all look towards the front door.

I climb out as fast as I can.

"Pizza."

Rhys and I run downstairs and to the table while uncle Quincy actually helps and takes the boxes.

He brings them to the dining room and opens them up.

Steam pours out.

"Don't touch yet, they're hot. I'll get plates."

We got chicken wings and pizzas and there's a box with a huge brownie cookie combo thingie in it that looks amazing.

We have one cheese pizza, one with half cheese and half pepperoni and one with lots of stuff on it.

It's so much pizza.

Em gets mine out and Quincy does Rhys'.

He even cuts the bottoms of the piece off and cuts them into smaller bites and gives him a fork.

It probably cools faster that way but I wait. 

Rhys eats the pepperonis by themselves and then eats the pizza. 

Why?

After dinner we have to wait a few minutes before swimming so Rhys and I blow bubbles.

Mostly I blow them and he tries to pop them all which is funny.

Then he sees the squirt guns and picks one up.

"Rhys," Quincy says.

"Is everyone playing the same game?"

"No, Quincy."

He pouts and puts the gun down.

"Right. And I think Finnegan needs to change first, don't you?"

"Oh, no swimming. Go change Finn. Wanna have a battle with me?"

Of course I do. 

"Can I Emmett?"

He just waves me off.

"Of course, go for it."

He seems really relaxed and happy and I am loving seeing him shirtless so much.

"You come too?"

I wanna kiss him but I'm shy, kinda.

I'm not sure if it's okay.

"Sure grasshopper, I'm right behind you."

He changes into a really pretty pair of white trunks that show off his tan.

He looks delicious.

"I wanna kiss you, Emmett."

He pulls me into his arms and kisses me instead.

He kisses me until we end up on the bed and he's got me pinned to the mattress.

"Like that?"

"Yes, exactly like that. I wasn't sure if I could downstairs, with Rhys and... can I?"

"Of course. If they don't like it they'll leave but considering what we talk about, I don't think kissing is off the table."

But no.

"I don't want them to leave."

He rolls to his side and runs his hand down my chest.

"They won't. But when they do... I'm gonna ravish you."

I hear someone running up the stairs and it must be Rhys.

Em and I smile at each other just as someone knocks.

"Finn. Hurry up. Wanna blast you."

Em chuckles again and I don't get it.

"What's so funny?"

"You and Rhys have been saying sexual shit all day. All this talk of spraying and blasting is cracking me up. You better head down there... and Finnegan? Don't aim for his face, apparently Rhys doesn't like it in the eyes."

He's giggling again... he's so silly.

[lucifer-is-a-bag-of-dicks]

I just went to dinner with family and was blindsided by several other guests that my mum failed to inform me were arriving so I just got slam dunked into a social situation I was not prepared for

but they were old family friends and thankfully one of them brought her kid along, I love this kid, he's adorable, he's maybe ten years old now and I've known him since he was a baby, I don't see him often but when I do I know it's gonna be a good night because now I don't have to stress about having normal adult conversations

I just gotta lend this kid a pen, watch him draw on some napkins for a bit, and then ask him what he's drawing

this kid will spend an entire evening giving me the complete rundown on some insanely creative magical creature that he made up all by himself

last time it was christmas lunch and he told me all about these evil hell dragons that all had different ways of torturing their victims' souls for all eternity, and the dragons had their own islands containing civilisations that also had complex political ties with each other that were all impacted by the dragons they had to deal with

tonight it was a fire based critter that started off really small but had several extremely creative evolved forms, some of which branched off depending on the creature's mental state when evolving, and should these creatures be lucky enough to reach their final forms, they can go from being ten times the size of the world's largest mountains, to becoming so large it destroys the planet its on, and then it becomes a new planet

why the fuck would I wanna talk with someone about them moving into their new house when I could talk about torture dragons and planet crushing fire beasts

[magicalink]

I just read the xiao x reader purification bj and now i kinda wanna know your thoughts on xiaoven x reader since you mentioned it (if you wanna ofc :))

Thank you for your ask! Actually I have a wip of a Xiaoven x reader smut that I'm close to finishing!😁 It's a bit long, I'll post it when I manage to give it an ending.

I love Xiaoven x reader! 😍 Very self indulgent since they're my top 2 favorite husbandos, so it ended up being the main love interest of "Y/N's marvelous adventure in Teyvat" and it's fighting its way to prevail in "Catboys in the house" which was supposed to be a harem 😅 Honestly I love the dynamic between the characters personalities! I love Xiaoven too, and I share rhe image most of the fandom has about Xiao being super protective and super simp of Venti. But when it comes to Xiao x Venti x reader I headcannon that he would be like that towars Y/N and will act tsundere towards Venti, always crabby and flustered by his shameless reasings, pretending he doesn't like him, but in fact he sweeps him off his feet🤭

The only thing I don't like about most of the xiaoven's fandom is that they always make Xiao look tall and big and kinda infantilize Venti. I like how Xiao is shorter than Venti and enjoy seeing them interact as the tired adults, milennary beings putting up with their traumas they are. They face life and their griefs with such different attitudes yet they go so well with each other! 💚

In "Y/N's marvelous adventure in Teyvat" Xiao goes trough a lot of changes! Before meeting Venti and reader, he thought that things like sex were just filthy, low mortal needs, and he would have never indulged into it. But he ends up heing sooo thirsty for Y/N that he gives it a try! And Archons did he love it! Had very demure ideas about sex and lots of taboos that will slowly break with the help of Y/N: for example, he thought oral sex was dirty and felt bad for desiring it. Y/N indulges him very often and takes advantage of this to purify him! Y/N always comforts him and tells him there's nothing dirty anout him. He enjoys it but he's still shy.

Also in this story there are specific cultural diferences between nations. For example, Xiao adopted Liyue's traditional views on love and couples, so he wanted a monogamous couple. He couldn't understand Mondstat's idea of free love and was extremely jealous whenever he knew Y/N smashed someone during her travels. While she was away in Inazuma, he met a little green bard who dramatically changed the gameboard for him, getting on his nerves every day 🤭 Xiao never thought it was possible to have sex with another man or that he could be in a relationship with two people. But here he is now🤭

I love the dynamic, Venti and Y/N met before meeting Xiao, and they have a very mischievous complicity. They always work together to bring down Xiao's walls, tease him and drive him mad from pleasure. They also pamper him and take care of him. They force him to rest and they cuddle him to sleep. They are very happy in the Serenitea Pot💚 (I have wips of these chapters and will be posted when finished, also I'm building a masterlist)

Dang I could talk about this all day long, but let's cut it here for today or I'll end spoiling everything😅 I think my next post will also be from "Y/N's marvelous adventure in Teyvat" but this time things will happen with Kazuha 👀

See you then! I hope you like it and soon I will post that Xiaoven x reader! Thank you so much for your comment 💕

[megthemewlingquim]

someone new.

summary: there's an art to life's distractions.

pairing: eventual hades! loki x persephone! reader

warnings: implied smut, alcohol consumption

a/n: here it is, the first part of foreigner's god. as said in this fic's masterlist, these will not be chapters, but rather short stories and one shots that can be read separately or as one whole piece. it's up to you.

i plan to base each part off of one or two hozier songs. this is inspired by "someone new".

is there a right way to fall in love?

    that’s what loki asks himself every day — well, every night — when he spends his free time at bars and gatherings. populated widely with fellow gods, goddesses, and spirits of many colors and passions; these bars are perfect places to find someone new.

    being the god of death, however, puts loki at a bit of a disadvantage. yes, the stereotypes are, unfortunately, true. loki is dark, a little antisocial, and very quiet. beautiful in appearance — death is seductive, at least to the willing.

    ‘the willing’ being many a spirit, many a dryad or goddess or creature who wants bragging rights, or a little nightly thrill. ‘that’s right,’ they say, ‘i had a little dance with death last night.’

loki doesn’t mind the mornings when his temporary partners talk about the nights, but he always cringes when they mention that accursed french phrase — la petite mort. it’s a joke to them. a mockery.

   yet, they stay, and sometimes, they come back for another little death.

    the spirits and goddesses never make a big impact on him. he is with one for a night, then another for a night, and so on. he falls in love every day with someone new and it’s a bore. a bore and a drag.

    dark caresses don’t do much to numb the pain: the pain of loneliness and solitude. the ache in his heart is constant, tearing at his mind whenever it can. alcohol can't do much either — all gods have a very high tolerance. mead was made for them.

   so loki is left with no escape besides those that come from the willing. little deaths. they make him feel loved.

   no...

   no one loves death. some crave him. but they don't love him.

   that’s the common theme running through loki’s head every time he takes someone home with him, or goes upstairs with them to the top floors of the inns he’s at, where the bedrooms are. it’s a distraction.

   however, the cycle ends when, while pointlessly wandering around his usual bar, he sees someone new one night. you.

   you radiate this... this warmth that he’s never felt before. everyone around you seems to be affected by it too - they don’t treat you as the life of the party, but they do gravitate towards you like birds to a nest. 

    and you’re quite shy, but infectiously happy and cheerful. you’re so beautiful, with your bright eyes that he knows are wide and filled with wonder, and your lovely skin that he knows is so soft. and your smile that he knows is so comforting to all who see it.

   to everyone else, you feel like they’ve just wandered into a happy memory, or a sun-lit room that’s pleasantly warm and golden. you feel familiar. ordinary, but lovely all the same.

   to loki, you feel... feel like something he’s only experienced in dreams. so, really, he’s never felt it before in his immortal life: something warm and alive and... and anticipatory. like there’s new things about to come up to the surface — flowers, new animals, maybe. you give off a sense of... he can’t describe it well. a slow and joyful awakening something.

   and you also feel completely and utterly powerful. unstoppable. he’s terrified of you, and yet he’s drawn to you. you’re so fascinating, strange. not as if you could end the world, no, that’s his own job. but it’s as if you can bring the whole world to life, raise it back up again after the chaos fades.

   you feel like spring. like rebirth. like new life.

   and that’s when it hits him.

   persephone. he’s heard the name passed around before, but before now, he has never seen the face behind the name. something about this sparks some fear in him: how would persephone, goddess of spring, daughter of demeter, react to seeing anyone even remotely like himself?

   for a moment, he’s grateful that you’re not looking at him; you’re actually looking at the table, at the drink you’re sipping. there’s a look on your face that isn’t bored, nor afraid. maybe... observant.

   people are around you still. not crowding, but not interacting with you either. it’s like you have a bubble around you, keeping everyone from getting too close. maybe it’s your doing but maybe it’s theirs. honestly, you’d think that dryads and gods and goddesses and spirits of all forms and colors and subjects would be more accepting.

   he pities you. you seem lonely.

   loki takes a few steps forward, betraying his own fear. like the red sea, the crowd parts. some are bold and unafraid, and they give loki varying looks: disgusted, seductive, snarky. you don’t notice him until he sits down in front of you, at the other end of the table.

   “hi,” he says calmly. he manages a small smile. “you’re new here, aren’t you?”

   your eyes lift to lock with his own. immediately, you recoil just the slightest bit. he knows what you’re thinking: wait, that’s hades! god of death... wh-why is he talking to me?

   “it’s alright,” he soothes. “don’t worry. you’ve probably heard of all the stories: gods kidnapping and doing terrible things to goddesses and spirits and dryads. i’m not here to do any of that. i promise.”

   with a single, somewhat confused blink, you nod. “m-my mother has told me a lot about that stuff,” you say slowly, as if saying anything too revealing will somehow alert demeter and get you in trouble. “she’s... she’s terrified...”

   “what is she terrified of? that those terrible things might happen to you?”

   “yes,” you say. “she’s told me that she’s had nightmares in the past. specifically about you. how you’ll kidnap me and take me to hell to live with you.”

   he laughs at that - a rich, amused laugh that takes the shivers out of you. “that’s bullshit. overprotective mothers, yeah?”

   you shrug. “she loves me.”

   “and are you afraid of me, princess?” the last word is whispered. his voice extremely soft - it’s a curious question.

   he notices how you lick your lips. “no,” you say. he notices how your eyes flick all over him. “no, i’m not.” and you seem truthful.

   “smart girl,” he says with a grin. “i hate liars. there’s not a god on in the world that’s ever been truthful. well, besides jesus. yahweh. whatever you wanna call him.” loki leans back, crossing his hands behind his head and bringing his feet up to the table. “your father, though... he’s the worst of ‘em. having children with other women, including your mother, while hera has to sit by and watch, and then lying about it.”

   “we’re gods,” you say. “i'm not trying to justify things but... we’re far from perfect.”

   “damn right we are. we’re fucked up. good. we can agree on something. most days, people think us gods are... perfect things. role models. and, maybe some are. but not us. not the gods of olympus.”

   he pauses, takes a swig from a beer bottle that was not in his hand a few seconds ago. “i was wondering if you wanted to do what humans do.” loki winces at the awkwardness. “when they're... y'know. interested in someone.”

   “you're interested... in me?” you ask, incredulously.

   “yeah, i am.” one sip of beer has loosened his tongue. or maybe that's just his confidence soaring now. “maybe this hasn't been the best introduction to things but i would love to take you out sometime. show you things.”

   “my —” you swallow. “i'd get in trouble.” you shrink away just a bit.

   his smile fades and it's replaced with a sadder, more sincere look. “the best things in life have risk to them. it's time i show you that.”

   and really, he does feel sorry for you. it's your first time at a bar, you're lonely. no friends as far as he can tell. an overprotective goddess mother.

   “think of it this way. i think you're very pretty and i like your honesty. i would like to help you see the world, and to have a little fun, since your mother has obviously never let you do anything in your very, very long life.”

   “i'm twenty—one.”

   “and now i'm wondering if demeter actually has you tell people that, as if you're a teenage mortal.” loki shakes his head, disappointed. “that's pathetic. you're a bajillion years old. you're a goddess! you should be able to do whatever the fuck you want, right?”

   when there's no answer from you, he sighs. leans forward to sit normally, putting both of his elbows on the table and pointing his hands at you. “alright. i'll roll with it for now. you're twenty—one. i guess. you can drink. you can go out alone to bars and other places. you can meet new people. you're an adult. think about that.

   “so, again. i think you're very pretty and i wanna show you around. get to know you. would you like to do that with me?” he raises his eyebrows a little, waiting for a response.

   it's an eternity before you can win a battle in your mind. slowly, you nod, giving him a smile. “yeah,” you whisper. “yeah, i would. thank you.”

   “don't thank me just yet, sweetheart. i haven't shown you anything yet.” he gets up, pushes his chair in.

   before he leaves, he winks at you. “call me loki. it's... not as dreadful... as hades. and... what do i call you?”

   you say your name, your voice quiet.

   “much better than persephone, i think. it suits you. we'll keep in touch, ok?”

   “okay,” you say. butterflies are flying rapidly in your stomach.

   loki leaves you there. he'd much rather take you back to your home himself, but that would be too risky for the time being. for now, he walks out of that bar feeling like the king of the world.

[twoidiotwriters1]

Copycat & The Spider-man —(Marvel Fem!Oc)

Words: 992

Phase two Masterlist

Previous Chapter // Next chapter

Listen to: ‘Loser’ -by Julian Moon

xxv: Graduation

"P.J. Stark..."

"THAT'S OUR BOY!"

Peter, MJ, Ned, and C.C. were clapping and whistling so hard her ears were actually hurting, yet she couldn't bring herself to stop, this felt adequate for the occasion, it wasn't every day that her adoptive-fake brother graduated from high school.

Tony, Pepper, Rhodes, May, and Happy were there too, being the only adults the teens could kind of consider family. Tony had helped them tons, so he deserved being included in the celebration.

He had his own parties to be planning though, his engagement to Pepper was no secret, but they were taking their sweet time to get everything done. The couple had also decided to wait until Pietro's graduation, not wanting to steal his thunder.

Pietro walked off the stage with his face flushed, C.C.'d never seen him that flustered. When the ceremony ended the group approached to give him hugs and kisses, Tony patted his back.

"Well done, Speedy," He smiled proudly. "Next stop: College. We have one thing to address, though, and that's C.C.'s housing."

"Mr. Stark, we talked to my aunt and she said she has no problem with C.C. staying at our apartment during the semester," Peter was quick to inform.

Tony looked at him with his brows raised, behind him Rhodes and Pepper were smirking and talking under their breaths.

"At your place?" He tilted his head. "What now, are you sharing a bed too?"

"Tony, don't start," C.C. warned him.

"I think your legal guardian has a point," Happy intervened. "You can't stay at his place."

"Where should I stay then? Alone? Or are you going to let me move into your place?"

"That's not such a bad idea," Happy admitted. "My place has plenty of room! It'll only be during the semester, you can move back to P.J.'s place during the holidays..."

"I was joking," C.C. backtracked. "Tony, tell him that's a crazy idea!"

"Happy, that's absurd," The man said. "I fully support it."

"No!" Behind her, Peter let out a groan. "May would be home all the time! And it's not like we would do anything crazy, most of the time we sit around reading books and eating pizza..."

"Life's not fair for teenagers," Tony teased her, then he frowned. "Wow, you two really are nerds. Who made you that way?"

"Peter did," MJ walked past without stopping. "Not even I have routines that bland."

On their way to celebrate they divided the crew into two separate cars. She and Peter were at the back of Tony's with Ned as their third companion on the back seat, and Tony with Rhodes at the front.

"I can't believe we're starting our junior year next August," Peter said. "That used to feel ages away! Soon we'll be making our college applications..."

"Have you guys thought of where you'd like to go?" Rhodey asked.

"MIT's our number one choice," Peter answered. "We've talked about it, Ned and I, it'd be amazing if we get in."

"The boys have spoken," Tony glanced at her through the rearview mirror. "What about the Cat? You're not gonna copy their career paths?"

"I haven't given it enough thought," C.C. admitted. "I don't know... something simple, perhaps. Maybe I'll become a middle school teacher or something like that."

"It'd be very benevolent of you," Tony said.

"You have the looks to be that teacher all the single parents have a crush on," Ned joked.

Peter made a face. "That makes no sense, Ned!"

"She kinda does," Tony agreed at the same time Rhodey mumbled: 'Think it's the vintage dresses...'

"Well, it doesn't matter cause you'll probably be married by then," Ned continued. "You'll be that person that married their high school sweetheart and everyone thinks they're dorks."

Rhodey's eyes lit up. "You heard that, Tony? We'll have another engagement soon, don't throw your suit away!"

"If our children wed I'm not wearing the same suit I used to get married, have some taste," He joked.

"I wanna be an engineer," MJ told her. "MIT doesn't sound so bad if I can get the scholarship..."

"Course you'll get it, your grades are great," Peter pointed out.

"Aww, thanks dude," She punched his shoulder lightly.

"I just want to finish high school," C.C. sighed. "It's a miracle I managed to pull through two whole years. Not on my own, of course, you guys are the best tutors ever."

"Well, it's a gift," MJ winked at her. "But why is it so hard for you? You're always doing your assignments at the last minute and you have all night every night of the week to get them done!"

Ned opened his mouth and Peter stepped on him, MJ gave them a weird look but C.C. was quick to distract her.

"Well, now that I'll be living with Happy you can be sure he won't let me slack as much as Pietro did... the guy's a control freak! I've only been to his place once, but he has cameras everywhere! I don't know what he'll do considering he's not allowed to film me."

"Why isn't he?" MJ frowned.

"Oh," C.C. cussed internally. "Well, you know..."

"It's just weird to be filming a minor, right?" Peter saved her. "And you know C.C.'s parents are—"

"Big on privacy, yeah," The tall girl raised a brow. "Your family's super weird."

"They're super alright," Ned mumbled, C.C. elbowed him.

"Guys!" Pietro put an arm around Ned's shoulders. "What are your plans for the summer? I wanna hang out with all of my tiny little baby friends before I leave!"

"Peter and I are planning to spend the whole time playing video games and watching movies, but I guess we can move things around."

"Hey, why wasn't I invited to that?" Ned pouted.

"Cause they're dates, Ned."

"So? Not like I would stop you from kissing, I wouldn't even pay attention to you two!"

"No no, you're not spending the summer indoors!" Pietro made a face. "You pair of losers are going to humor me just this once, alright?"

Peter and C.C. shared a look, everyone had spent the day teasing them about their boring routine, they'd had enough.

"Fine," She gave in. "What do you want us to do?"

Next Chapter —>

Taglist.

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[palbabor-writes]

OK so please consider typical Shig/reader where theres unspoken mutual attraction and they're not quite together but it's Post-kamino Shig, like IMMEDIATE post-kamino where he's still processing and incredibly vulnerable from just losing his sensei. I've had this in my head for a while but IDK how it would go and I think you'd do it justice (just ignore this if u don't wanna i just needed to put it out there 😌)

ugh, i loved this idea. where do you find them lydia? they just live in your mind rent free and i want to go to there. gosh, thank you for the ask.

Pairing: Shigaraki Tomura x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Adult language, SMUT, NSFW/18+ only, mild angst, pivotal life moments, TW: drinking/drug use, masturbation, blow jobs, face fucking, spanking/mild pain play, vaginal fingering, cunniliginus, overstimulation, switching, dirty talk, loss of virginity (if you squint), dominance, vaginal sex     

Word Count: 11,800

Notes: oh man. so, if the word count didn’t give it away, this is plot, with a hefty dose of porn. in my mind, this is all part of the grieving process for shigaraki and he’s having a rough time coming to terms with what he’s needing to do. yeah, AFO supported him and enabled him to build a following, but he also hid all of the major pieces from him (i.e. the doctor & gigantomachia) so i can see him mourning for AFO as a teacher & as a psudo loved one, after all, at the end of that chapter he’s clutching those hands to him like he’ll fall apart without them. 

Edited by the lovely Lydia: @kugutsuu. she is the best and if you’re not reading her works, all I have to say is: YOU SHOULD BE. 

Mise en Place

/mē-ˌzäⁿ-ˈpläs/ noun or verb  a French culinary phrase which means "putting in place" or "everything in its place.”

This has got to be the strangest, hole in the wall, bar you’ve ever worked at. 

The patrons are touchy and most seem downright dangerous. The whole lot of them are more like mid level criminals than the usual haggard, overworked, regular, citizens you find in local watering holes.  Meanwhile, the gentleman who runs the day to day operations shares more similarities with a will o’ the wisp than a man, and the bar itself is smack dab in one of the seediest parts of town. 

The liquor selection, however, is top of the line. Some of the labels you haven’t seen outside of posh hotels or high class country clubs, and many of the older bottles are rarities. Honestly, there are so many of the high brow bottles that you’re not sure who to ask about the rail selection. There’s no real order to the place and it’s the most free reign you’ve ever been given with your mixology experiments. There’s not even a listing of drinks to go off of. But, if the disgruntled evening crowd is happy, then so is the upper management. All they ask is that you lock up before you leave.

No, nothing about this place makes sense. But, it does pay well and, right now, that’s the only thing you need to worry about.

There’s one other barkeep, a stogy man named Akio. He usually works the day shift, but late yesterday afternoon, he’d given you a call and asked if the two of you could swap for the duration of next week. At first, you’d balked, worried you’d need to schmooze with an unfamiliar bunch of regulars, who’d then decline to tip simply because you were new. But, Akio had sweetened the pot with the promise of $20,000 yen, so, you’d agreed. 

“It’s fairly quiet in the afternoon,” Akio reassured you. “It’s really just putting away shipment and serving the odd customer who happens to pass by. The only thing...well, I’m sure you’ve met him. You’ve been working there for over a month, no way you could miss him.” 

“Who?” you ask, twirling your spoon in your mid-morning coffee, curious, but not wanting to seem overly eager in your questioning. You like your night shift and you’re not wanting this to become a regular swap. You detest having to lug heavy boxes to and fro, pulling liquor and checking lot numbers, ick. Plus, if it really is that slow in the afternoons, it would only be a matter of time before Kurogiri would come after you with a duster and ask you to clean the upper shelves. Yeah, no, thanks. This would be a one week deal, ONLY.

“His name is Shigaraki. He’s, er, different. I suppose you’ll meet him soon, if you haven’t already.”

“Shigaraki? No, that name doesn’t ring a bell. Is he--”

“I have to go, my son is here. Thanks again for the swap and talk soon, (Y/N).”

The line clicks and you let your phone fall from your ear, clattering the metal and plastic along your kitchen table. Shigaraki, you think, taking a scalding sip of your coffee, no, that’s not a name you’ve heard before. Wonder what it is about him that has Akio so on edge. It’s not like him to give you, er, whatever that strange heads-up had been. Either way, it would take more than a vague descriptor like different, to spook you off. 

******

Akio was right, on all counts, about the haze of monotony that permeated the afternoon shift at the bar. 

Well, right on everything except a sighting of that elusive Shigaraki guy. No, the whole afternoon it’s just been you, Kurogiri, and one, rather sloshed old man, who you’ve long since cut off, and propped at the far end of the bartop. It’s been a dull, slow, day. Thank God you’d taken that extra cash from Akio, or this might not even turn out to be worth your while. 

You’re slipping another bottle of whiskey on the lower shelf when you hear a barstool scrape back. You turn at the sound, your head already lifted and a small, friendly, smile lingering on your lips. There’s a lanky guy, dressed all in black with a mop of wavy white hair, working himself onto the small seat. His head is lowered and he hasn’t bothered to look up at you, not yet, anyway. He looks, not really young, but you can’t tell and you’re not about to let some underaged kid worm his way in here. You’ve had enough of those punks sneaking in in the evening, thank you. 

“Gimme a shot of scotch,” the man says, his voice low, with a quiet rasp racing along the tone. It’s a strange timbre and it makes you pause, your eyes scanning those pearlescent strands of hair that are hiding his face from view.

“Hmph,” you snort, arching a brow at his attempts at concealment. He must be underage, who comes up to a barkeep with a ducked head and demands a scotch? 

“Let me give you a piece of advice, don’t come into a bar and immediately refuse to make eye contact with the bartender. We’re like animals at the zoo, we startle easily and don’t like surprises. And, with your face tucked like that, I can’t gauge your age. So, before I get you that unnamed and unbranded scotch, I’m gonna to need to see some ID.”

The man lifts his head at your preamble and you feel your breath catch at the raw annoyance that’s etched across his scarred and cracked face. His eyes are a rich red, closer to ruby and they latch onto yours, insistent and sharp. It’s a deeply intense stare and you can’t seem to pull yourself away, your brow furrowing at his sudden shift in demeanor. 

“I don’t have an ID,” he snaps, his lips lifting into a snarl, showing you the vivid whiteness of his teeth. 

You lick your lips and his gaze follows the motion, eyes lowering, freeing you from that uneasy imprisonment he’d abruptly ensnared you in.

Your heart is beating rapidly against your throat and you shake your head, refocusing your bewildering reaction to this guy's presence. “I-I haven’t heard that one before,” you say, taking a few steadying breaths and tossing a dirty glass in the dishwasher, looking for any task that will let you step away from this strange interaction. 

“You must be new,” he says, leaning back and hunching those dark shoulders. You watch him out of the corner of your eye and shut the dishwasher door, hitting the button to run a cycle. 

“Nope,” you correct him, pulling out two fresh glasses and lining them up on the bartop, reaching for the rail scotch. “I’ve worked here for over a month.”

“Never seen you before.”

“That makes two of us,” you reply, flipping the bottle up and filling both glasses with four counts of the dark liquor. You press one to him and lift the other for yourself. The man narrows his eyes at you and looks pointedly at the glass in your hands. 

“You supposed to drink on the clock?”

You laugh and he shifts back at the sound, his head bowing forward, another scowl lifting his lips. Realizing you must have made him uncomfortable, you step toward him and clumsily clink your glass against his, tilting your head at the surrealness of this whole conversation. “They don’t really care what I do. Come on, stranger who has no ID, bottoms up.”

He looks from you to the shot a few times before finally relenting and taking the vessel in a strange four fingered grip, his middle finger arched carefully away. Once you’re sure he’s actually going to toast with you, you sling your shot back, enjoying the sharp burn of the rich liquor. 

You’re about to ask your new drinking companion another question when you hear his chair scrape back. By the time you’re stepping toward him, he’s already pacing down a back hallway, blending into the darkness and disappearing from your sight.

“Um! You can’t...I don’t think you can go back there. And you gotta pay, dude! Hey--”

“He doesn’t need to pay.” 

You always hear Kurogiri before you see him and today is no exception. He’s standing at the entrance to the back of the bartop and he’s watching the path the strange young man took, his shifting face turned from you. You cock your head at his assertion and swiftly place your empty glass into the soapy water of the filled sink. He likely saw you take the shot, but you’re not about to leave evidence behind. 

“What do you mean?” You ask, watching as the wisp like man turns and steps toward you, his amber slits watchful. It’s like he’s sizing you up and you shift on your feet, uncomfortable at the frank, open, assessment.  

“He’s Tomura Shigaraki, and he owns this bar.”

******     

You’re off for the next two days and the wait, the silence, is abjectly harrowing. You can’t sit down, can’t relax, can’t focus. The one time you decide to get overly familiar, of fucking course, it would be with the owner. But no one has called, and no one has sent you any messages. The empty static of your job's reticence doesn’t alleviate your nerves. 

Who knows, they might want to act out the sick power play of having you show up for your shift, only be fired as soon as you darken the doorway.

The next afternoon, you take a familiar route to the bar, your feet tapping hollowly along the steps and alleyways that wind to the rusty entrance. You come in the front, blinking against the darkness, and lock the door behind you. Everything is quiet. But, in forty minutes, the open sign will switch on and you need to get your bar set up, plus slap on a little bit of makeup. You’re so lost in thought that you’re almost to the long bartop when you spot him.

It’s Tomura Shigaraki. He’s sitting at the same bar stool and his head turns as you approach, those unearthly red eyes lingering over you. It’s a different look, very, very removed from that harsh glare he’d given you the other day. He looks less hostile and more, well, curious. 

You give him a cursory nod and pad behind the high counter, taking the final glasses out of the dishwasher and removing the stoppers from all the open liquor bottles. He’s still watching you and you can feel his gaze as it bores into your back, your side, your front. You attempt to ignore him, but the constant threat of those insistent red eyes is beginning to frustrate you. Finally, once you’ve replaced the cash drawer, you lift your gaze to his. 

“What is it?” Your voice sounds waspish, but you don’t care.

“Nothing,” he replies, leaning forward and propping his chin on his palm, not breaking that unsettling leer. 

“So stop staring at me,” you bristle, unsure why your heart is starting to beat a rapid tattoo against your ribs. You don’t know this guy. Sure, he’s mysterious and almost handsome, in a dark horse kinda way, but there’s no reason for him to give you this odd staredown. You’ve done absolutely nothing to warrant this attention, well, besides drinking on the job, but he could just fire you for that, if it was so troublesome. Either way, he should either speak up, or knock it off. 

He smirks at your impudence and murmurs a raspy, “No,” back, his head tilting, waiting for your next move. 

“You’re a real charmer, you know that?” You scoff, crossing your arms and jutting your chin defiantly. 

“Whatever you say,” he breathes, that smile of his deepening, making his vermillion eyes shine. And, just like that, the two of you wander into a stilted game of give and take. 

For the first few days, he makes sure he’s there before you arrive for the last of your afternoon shifts, his dark back already perched over the bartop as you shut the door behind you. Then, when you transition back to the evening shifts, he’s there too, sitting at that familiar perch, his eyes always, always watching, observing. You continue to ignore him and he seems to relish your agitated silence, flashing you dark smirks and quiet laughs.

Finally, two weeks into this stagnated stalemate, you make a point to strike up a real conversation with him. He’s obviously taken aback by your first few questions, his eyes wide and jaw tense, but he plays along. 

Over time, the two of you carefully erect a haphazard friendship. And that chair of his? That center barstool? He used to not mind if another person was sitting in it when he arrived late, but recently that’s all changed. Now he guards it ferociously. Snapping and glaring at anyone who is stupid enough to drift into it. 

Along with the lingering looks and burgeoning, almost flirty, dialogue you’ve pushed him into, he’s also gotten very demanding of your attention. If you spend too much time talking with another customer, or with Kurogiri, he pouts and darkens until you return, his tense form losing that sharpness.  It's almost like he’s got a crush on you, but he’s not sure what to do with the newfound sensation, lost and confounded by your teases and grins. 

Most people, you notice, give him a wide berth, but not you. No, you like his keen wit and heated musings. He’s fascinating and you want to see more. And in his flustered confusion, he lets you lean in, blinking and wide eyed at your open, flagrant interest in him.

******   

As the weeks drift into summer, things start to change at the bar. 

There’s some atypical deposit of power that’s been bestowed upon the place. People you’ve never seen before, begin to frequent the premises, sharing videos and whispered conversations about that man, Chizome Akaguro, better known to the general public as the Hero Killer. 

Tomura flits between several, dark moods, clutching his newly injured shoulder and murmuring complaints about hero society, All Might and the Hero Killer. Apparently, there had been an altercation between the two of them and Tomura didn’t hide his ire, his agitation from you. No, he would vent to you, his voice gravel and ash as he snarled his rage.  

Then, as if things couldn’t get any stranger, one evening a young girl begins to hang around, pestering you for a soda and prattling on and on about blood. Another new guy slips in a few hours later, his skin marred by thick, ragged burns and staples. He’s quiet, rudely demanding a shot and nursing it in a corner, his bright blue eyes flashing as he stares vacantly out at the crowd by the well. 

A quiet man, called Spinner, asks you for a water, and you acquiesce, watching as his green hands wrap around the glass, downing the liquid in a quick gulp. Later, there’s a robust, loud, clearly confused guy, wearing a skin tight black bodysuit loitering by your bartop. He keeps entreating you for a drink, then tells you to buzz off seconds later. Exasperated, you plunk a whole bottle down beside his glass and continue on with your work, ignoring his chatter. 

Finally, a man in a white mask and a top hat rounds out the strange posse and the group gathers together, hovering around Tomura, asking questions and listening to his rasping answers. 

Thankfully, the rag-tag group leaves soon after closing, all of them shouldering their way back out into the night. You shake your head as the door closes behind them, gathering the collection of dirty glasses they left in their wake. Only Tomura remains, sipping meditatively on his drink, his red eyes foggy and unfocused. You know from experience that it’s not a good time to ask him questions, so you continue with your closing duties, keeping your eyes down.

Something is going on, that much is clear. But, unless you could worm the information out of Tomura, you’d likely never fully know all of the details. Part of you warns that it’s likely dangerous. Many of the people who haunt the bar are low level villains or brokers, not a winning combination if you’re wanting to stay out of the fray, and on the right side of the law. 

You finish wiping everything down and return to Tomura, asking him softly if you can wash his empty glass. His eyes lift to yours and the expression that greets you almost makes you want to reach out and cup his cheek. He looks tired, worn thin and so, so needy. You’ve never seen him like this. It almost feels like he’s showing you something he’s never revealed to anyone else, a vulnerability that only you can see. He’s giving you access to a quiet secret that can hang between the two of you, safe in the knowledge that he can trust you with it. That urge to stroke a finger down his roughed brow rises again, but you shove the impulse away, rattled by your sudden, visceral, reaction to him. 

To distract yourself, you snatch up his glass, and turn from the intensity of his stare, a slow prickle of gooseflesh trembling along your skin. As you run hot water and soap over the vessel, you feel your heart begin to pound and you chance another peek at Tomura’s quiet form. As usual, he’s watching you, but he looks unfocused again, that broken vulnerability tucked away. You want to ask him if he’s ok, but before you can croak the words out, he pushes his stool back and paces down the dark hallway, leaving you alone and bewildered. 

******

A few days later, you ask Kurogiri if you can sneak away for a minute, you need a break. The bar has been packed since nine and you could use a quick breather. It’s the first night Tomura hasn’t stopped by and his absence has bothered you. You missed his grumpy quips and his persistent glances. All this time, you’d thought it was just him that was catching any kind of feelings, but it looks like he’s somehow managed to nag his way into your psyche, too. 

You take the back stairs quietly and let yourself out onto the alleyway balcony, climbing the rickety fire escape to the rooftop. You’d found the access to the roof your second week and it’s still your favorite place in the whole bar. On a clear night, you can see all the way to downtown Tokyo. It’s always quiet this high up, tranquil and serene. You brace yourself against the concrete wall and watch the lights of the city glimmer, like distant jewels, in the darkness.

You pull a small joint from your pant pocket and flick your lighter on, setting the edge of the rolling paper alight and taking a slow drag. The inhale fills your lungs with a light pressure and you savor the feeling before blowing a thin line of smoke into the night. You get a few more hits in before you hear the fire escape stairs rattle, signaling that someone is coming your way. You debate dampening your roach, but you don’t want to waste it, so you tuck the smoldering paper in your other hand, maneuvering it out of sight. 

The white shine of his hair always gives him away. 

Tomura hops over the ledge and his eyes are already lifting, searching for yours as he stands. You arch an eyebrow at his tense stance and you can’t help your giddy smile. “Everything ok?” 

“Kurogiri said you were taking a break,” he replies, dipping his long fingers into his pockets and sauntering over to the patch of concrete you’re braced against. 

“Yeah,” you confirm, waiting until he’s closer to lift the joint back to your lips, taking a steadying pull and scooting over, so he can fit beside you on the wall. “It’s busy, and I’ve been slinging drinks all night. Just wanted to decompress for a bit.”

Tomura doesn’t reply, but he does slot himself close, the warmth of his broad shoulder radiating against yours. The two of you drift into a companionable silence, and the only sounds that greet you is the quiet hush of traffic below and your inhales and exhales of smoke. 

“You got another meeting?” you ask, crossing your arms and pressing minutely closer, enjoying the distant shiver Tomura gifts you. 

“No,” he murmurs, his voice low. You think that might be the end of the conversation but he continues a few seconds later, his head tilting toward yours, those red eyes scanning your upturned face. “They’re on a mission. I’m not able to participate. It will need to be like a SIM game. They are the pieces that I’ll move over the board, they’ll act to my battle plan.”

You turn to him, your eyes wide. “So, they’re just...pawns? Little NPC’s that don’t matter?”

Tomura laughs and his teeth gleam in the moonlight and distant shine of the neon lights. “Of course not. Do I look that heartless? No, they’re valuable players and if this goes right, we’ll be able to take on the next level with a decided edge.” 

You let that last comment hover, pausing to take another huff, your eyes lowered, brooding over his words. “So, you’re their vanguard leader?”

“Sure,” Tomura nods, “We can’t keep grinding each mission, hoping to pick up any XP these heroes happen to drop. We need to make waves of our own.”

“Oh? Like the Hero Killer?”

“No,” Tomura snarls, his arm tensing beside yours, a hand rising to scritch at his scarred neck agitatedly. “Nothing like him. We’re looking past him. He was too short sighted, so busy following his own code of justice that he didn’t notice he was breeding more heroes, not putting them down.”

“Hmm,” you sigh, thumping your head lightly against the concrete behind you. “That is true. But, you can’t deny he’s brought up some serious divisions. It’s funny, really. It makes me think of this little hero toy I had when I was younger. 

It was of an older hero, he prolly died long ago, but I loved that toy when I was a kid. Then, as I got older, it stopped mattering and one day, without me even realizing it, it lost its importance entirely. I wonder if hero society will ever shift to that. With the fractures that have been seen at UA and all over Japan, it could be a matter of time before real change starts to happen. Anyway, I wasn’t meaning to grill you on your, uh, projects. I was--”

“What toy?” 

His question nonpluses you and you cock your head, blinking up at his peripheral stare. “Um, I think it was of that fast hero, O’clock. It was my older brothers originally, but he passed it down to me. No idea where it is now. It likely got lost in a move or accidentally left behind.”

Tomura lifts his eyes from yours, his jaw clenching and a slow gulp echoing down his lean throat. You watch the bob of his Adam’s apple, fascinated by the movement. That urge to touch him is back and you have to clench your fingers into your palms to quiet it. 

You’re so distracted by your primal reaction to him, that you miss his question and he has to repeat it, his eyes slipping back to yours, the red dark. 

“What?” you ask, blinking against the acuteness of his gaze. 

“Can I take a hit of that?”

“Of what...oh.” You lift the half smoked joint and chuckle at yourself, pressing the smoldering paper toward him. “Sure. You had one before?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, carefully taking the white roach from you and raising it to his chapped lips.

“Go slow,” you warn as he begins to inhale, his eyes drifting to a half mast, concentrating.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” he grumbles, pulling a tentative, but heavy, drag into his lungs.

“Fine,” you scoff playfully, “do what you want. But don’t blame me when you’re coughing up a lung.”

He rolls his eyes, but doesn’t heed your advice and, seconds later, he’s clutching at his throat, dropping the joint onto the broken gravel and concrete as he heaves. Instinctively, you thump him on his back and run your palm soothingly over his lean shoulder blades, surprised by the corded muscle that greets you. For a relatively thin guy, he’s certainly packing some strength under that unassuming form of his. 

Tomura startles at your touch and he yanks himself away from you, his head ducked, eyes fastening onto yours, the irises accusatory and bright, burning with some underlying emotion that you’re too nervous to name right now. 

“Uh,” you begin, aghast that you’ve upset him, “m-my bad…”

But, he’s already leaving, his head firmly turned from you, clambering over the edge and back onto the fire escape, leaving you alone in the darkness. 

******                

After that night, you can’t slip him out of your mind. Even when you sleep, you can see those red eyes of his, gleaming and hungry. One evening, you’d even woken with your fingers firmly pressed to your throbbing clit, stumbling and gasping, shaking free of a dream of him. He’d felt so real, so in focus and you can’t catch your breath, fingers still rubbing a tight circle over your quivering bundle of nerves. You pant as you break yourself, sukling in the whites and reds that haze over your vision. Yeah, that crush of his definitely isn’t a one sided thing.

The next shift you work, he’s waiting for you, perched in his familiar seat, his shoulders curved and tight. You give him a glance, but he doesn’t meet your eyes. His hands are lowered, fiddling with something under the bartop. You begin to open your bar, trying to quiet your wandering thoughts, not wanting to perturb him again. You’re uncorking a red wine when he presses something across the mahogany wood of the bar, toward you.

It’s small, with dark colors and a tiny, familiar, upper half mask. You let the bottle of wine thud against the counter, abandoning the half opened bottle to move closer. It’s...it’s your-- No. It can’t be yours, but it is the same toy, the one you’d mentioned on the roof the other night. How did he?

You gulp and look up at him, your heart pulsing wildly against your ribs. For the first time, he looks away from you first, his white hair pillowing across his brow. His lips start to rise in an all too habitual scowl and his raspy voice lifts to your ears. “If you don’t want it,” he grouses, one hand pulling away from the offered toy, clearly flustered by your wondering gaze. Without thinking, you slip your fingertips over the top of his hand, prolonging the touch, sulking in the warmth of him. 

His fingers curl, some unconscious tremor racing along his digits. He almost yanks himself away, but then he stops, sighing as his eyes lift to yours. For a long moment, the two of you watch the other. You can hear his breathing speed up and you can almost smell the shift in the air. All it would take is one, tiny push to break that delicious tension. 

Tomura’s nostrils flare as you start to lean closer, your body curving toward his, fingers still pressing into his skin. Your tongue dips out, wetting your lower lip and pulling it into your mouth, sucking on the plush flesh. His eyelids have lowered and he’s mirroring your motions, his elbows assisting his lift, his face upturning, seeking, reaching.

With a bang, the front door is flung open and it breaks the spell that’s fallen over the two of you. Tomura leans away first, his eyes narrowed in agitation, sliding from your open face to the darkness of the entryway. You exhale a shaking breath and follow Tomura’s gaze. It’s that masked man, the one with the top hat and he’s already striding confidently forward, peppering Tomura with a series of questions. 

Snagging up his gift to you, you walk back to your bottle of wine. 

******    

You don’t have a chance to see Tomura again until he tells you, one evening, that the bar is going to be closed for the next few days. Then, over his shoulder, you spot the blonde boy, strapped and bound into a stiff chair and you blanch, stunned, too overwrought to give him more than a one word acknowledgement before stumbling back outside. In all of your talks, he’d never mentioned anything like this. That boy looked like a kid, barely past middle school, his eyes wild and defiant, but also so, so frightened. 

No, you think, pacing your apartment, it’s impossible to come to terms with this. You can’t stay there, can’t work there. It’s too dangerous, too close to a real criminal den for comfort. You have to look out for yourself, no matter your feelings for the man who’s wandering down some long, lost pathway, toward a future you can’t even comprehend, let alone see.

So, you hand in your written resignation. 

Kurogiri is behind the bar when you bring it in, and you’re hoping that the early morning conversation will spare you from having to see him. The wispy, purple hand of Kurogiri is just about to take your letter when Tomura barges down the hallway. His eyes immediately land on you and he steps forward, a dark look passing over his palled features. 

“Why?” he growls, fingers snatching the paper from Kurogiri and crumbling the parchment to bits, his quirk rendering your typed words to nothingness. 

“I don’t want to be a part of any kidnapping. It…” you pause, looking toward Kurogiri and, to your surprise, he nods to Tomura and moves away, leaving the two of you alone in the vacant bar. Tomura is still glaring at you, but he’s waiting for you to finish your thought, his jaw grinding quietly. 

“This doesn’t feel like you.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Tomura scoffs, his chin jutting at the assertion. 

“This doesn’t change society. This is just some petty attempt to get back at the UA staff. It’s like...It’s like you’re asking for trouble to seek you out. You’re smarter than this. Besides, what are you going to do with him?” you smart, crossing your arms and balling your fingers into your fists. 

“What do you know about anything? That kid’s been oppressed by hero society, literally muzzled and bound--”

“As if you’re doing any better! He’s still muzzled and bound, Tomura! He’s just in a different location. This is insanity. Who put you up to doing--”

“That doesn’t matter. This conversation has nothing to do with that. You can’t leave,” Tomura snaps, his head lowering, soft white hair falling over his face. “Give it a few more days.”

“What? I can’t stay if the bar is raided and it’s prolly gonna be if you keep that kid. Besides, that’s not--”

“Just...just give me a few more days. I don’t want to beg you, I shouldn’t fucking need to beg you. It’s not an impossible request (Y/N). Just--”

“Fine,” you sigh, uncrossing your arms and watching him. He looks on edge, haggard and angry. Those emotions aren’t projected at you, you know that. Nevertheless, it doesn’t lessen the danger he’s asking you to stand with him in. But, you can give him a few days and you tell him so, trying to ignore the pattering of your heart when he looks at you and smiles.

******

Then, Kamino happens. 

You weren’t there, thank God. But he was, and now, no matter what he’d asked of you, no matter what he’d hoped for, everything shifts apart. Days linger into weeks and you’re trying your best to reason that he’d made it out in one piece. Surely, you would have heard something. The capture of the leader of the League of Villains would have been a morsel that the media would have wanted to crow about, especially after the loss of All Might. 

Late one evening, your phone rings. 

It’s an unknown, blacked out number, but something tells you to answer, so you pick it up. You almost gasp when you hear that familiar rasp and you listen to what he tells you. You can’t get over how brittle and cracked his voice sounds but you write down the address he gives you. He cloaks his true motivations with a lie. Apparently, he has your last paycheck. Like that even matters to you. Honestly, you’re just glad he’s safe and whole. But, he’s gone to all this effort to build a bridge back to him, so of course you’re going to go.

You check and double check the directions, carefully maneuvering and weaving through bus stops and back streets. Somehow, you make it and find yourself pressing open a dilapidated door and stepping into a small room. Only darkness greets you, even though the bright midday sun is shining outside. The place he’s brought you to is on a dock, on the outskirts of town, close to the salty edge of a bay. You can hear the mournful cries of a seagull as you close the door behind you, sealing yourself inside and blinking into the gloom.

It takes you a minute to catch sight of him.

He’s lingering along the edges but you can make out the glow of his eyes, red and fierce. He looks different. It’s only been a few weeks, but it looks like the weight of years has crushed him under its unfeeling grind in that short amount of time. No, Kamino has changed him, rendering him unhinged and dangerous, drifting along the peripheral of your vision. Still, you haven’t come here to witness him falling to bits at your feet. No, you’d come here with another, darker motive. 

Now, to work.

“What happened?” you ask, keeping your back firmly against the door. Watching him move closer, those red shoes of his glinting over the dark wooden floors.

“Sensei is...gone,” he replies, his voice hollow and faint. He’s mentioned his Sensei before and you’d heard the man’s strange voice echoing from that back television, like some distant, terrifying specter. But, you knew he was important to Tomura, more like a father than a teacher. However, you’d seen the news. You knew he was beaten to a pulp and captured, locked away and out of Tomura’s reach. Now, he can’t ask his Sensei for advice or support, not anymore. Even knowing what little you’ve gleaned about the strange man, Tomura must be devastated by his loss.

“I’m sorry,” you tell him, genuine in your sympathy.

Tomura nods and fishes for something in the pocket of his trench coat, lifting a thin slip of paper out and showing it to you. “Here,” he sighs, still not meeting your eyes directly. 

“Oh,” you say, moving away from the door and taking a few steps toward him. “You really did ask me here for the check, huh?”

“What else did you want?” he grumbles, his voice regaining a small slice of that familiar rasping. The question lingers and you feel your pulse speed up, your palms itching at your sides. “Or, did you want to scold me again?” Tomura continues disgruntled, and you can see a grimace pass over his face.

“You deserved it,” you confirm, taking another step, only wavering when you’re a few feet from him. “You wouldn’t be in this mess if you hadn't kidnapped that UA student. Now, the kid, and your Sensei are gone and you’re stuck here. Wherever here is”

“Look at you, quite the oracle aren’t you? So, you did come here to berate me.” Tomura snaps, dropping your pay stub to the dusty floor. 

“No,” you shake your head, not wanting this to spiral out of your control, not wanting him to simply shut you out, alone on that pier, left with all of your what ifs. “No, I didn’t come here to do that. I-I...it’s just that...well...that wasn’t you. That whole plan...it still doesn’t make sense”

“How the fuck would you know what is, or isn’t, me? You said that that morning, too. I didn’t like it then and I don’t like it now,” Tomura bristles, closing the distance and bowing up to you. You can feel the sheer heat of him radiating against your shirt and you shiver at the sensation. If you lift your hand you could touch him, you think distantly. He’s so close...He’s so... 

You gulp, trying to quell your rising emotions. “I guess, I don’t know then.”

“No, you don’t.”

“Fine,” you say, biting your lip.

“Fine,” he repeats, no doubt thinking that will be the end of it, but you’re not finished.

“You’re better than this you know,” you tell him, eyes searching for his, not relenting your glare until he finally meets you halfway, his red eyes flashing.

“Better than what? Better than you? A half baked woman, slumming her way from mid range bar, to mid range bar. Hoping you’ll catch the eye of the right person, someone who can pluck you from all the muck and grime that you lift that pretty little nose of yours at.”

“What?” you breathe, a snarl of your own etching across your face.

“Don’t act like you didn’t know what you were doing. Fucking leading me on like that--”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“You thought I’d be your ticket out, or you could wager me later for a better piece, something stronger, someone that could do something for you.” Tomura is seething, his chest bumping against yours, the red of his eyes burning as he glowers at you. 

“Tomura- I don’t know what you’re talk--”

“Stop saying that. You stupid, or something? And stop saying my name like that. Like it fucking matters. You could have had anything, you know? But...but you took it all for granted. You had the world...and then it...it’s...it’s just gone.”

He’s not talking about you anymore. Even though he’s growling and spitting rage at you, he’s not talking about you. “Shigaraki,” you begin, trying to see some way to reason with him. To bring him back to you. 

“Don’t call me that,” he groans, his head dipping, almost resting against your shoulder. “I haven’t earned...that’s not me.” 

“Alright. What am I supposed to call you?” you whisper, overwhelmed and trying to resist that urge to pull him into your arms. You’ve never seen him like this, and you don’t know, you don’t…

“There you go again, acting like you care.” Tomura scoffs, rolling his eyes. 

“I do care, you ass,” you bite, turning your head toward him and letting your voice fall beside his ear. He snarls at the assertion and presses impossibly closer, trying his best to put on a show of wavering strength, knowing you might still be bullied into backing down, into denying him. But it’s not working, no you’ve come this far and you don’t want to leave him, not like this. 

“I care,” you repeat, still murmuring next to his cheek, so near you can hear, and feel, his ragged breaths, hot against your skin.

“About what?” he grunts, moving his head from you, determined to not let you win.

“About, well, you.”

“Liar,” he spits, but his voice wavers, showing you a tiny, tiny sliver of hope.

“Am not,” you counter and watch as he leans back, those vermillion eyes searching for yours. One of his hands lifts and he ghosts the digits over the top of your shoulder, watching as you shift toward the distant touch, pulled to him, like a magnet.

“Such a liar,” he posits, fingers hovering beside your neck, twitching with want. 

“No, I’m not,” you gasp, your voice so faint, you’re worried he might not hear it. But he does and he dips his head toward you, inches from your face, lips already parted and waiting. 

“Prove it,” he challenges, his voice deepening, losing that sharpened edge at long last.

So, you shove him. 

You’re not sure why that’s your first, instinctive reaction, but it’s too late to question your motives and it sparks a crazed response from the man in front of you, snapping him out of his head and refocusing him. 

He fumbles backwards, caught off guard, his red shoes catching as he lumbers, trying to not fall. His eyes flash at you and he instantly rights himself, moving back to you. Through it all, you can hear yourself saying something. It sounds like it might have been another taunt, but you can’t focus, not when he’s pressing himself against you, his fingers finally, finally touching you. 

Tomura can’t seem to settle now that he’s gotten ahold of you, his fingers tracing over your neck, your shoulders, your face, your sides. He’s panting and gasping, his fevered exhales fanning over your prickling skin.

“Get off me,” you moan, batting at his wandering hands.

“No,” he sighs, cupping your jaw and dragging you to his shaking lips. His kiss is clumsy, almost childlike. He lifts and leans, pressing halting smacks against you, grunting when you twist from him, fighting his hold.

“You don’t deserve it,” you tell him, wanting to lance that boil that’s festering in his mind, knowing he needs the pain before he can handle the sweetness of the pleasure. The last thing he needs is love. No, not right now. Hopefully, there will be time for that later. But for now, he needs something raw and shattered, something that will let him see that it’s not impossible to pick up the pieces, that he can be whole again, he just needs to try.

He drags his rough lips over yours and you lower your fingers into his snowy hair, pulling him closer, demanding that he give you more. He gasps at the sudden shift and you slip your tongue into his mouth, tangling it with his and yanking stammering moans from him. Your lips are slick now and you use the extra lubrication to slip down his neck, leaving him trembling above you. 

You dip into each and every scar, laving over all those old hurts until he’s snarling. You leave a bruising bite against his pulse and he snatches your face between his palms, dragging you back to his lips. 

“Stop squirming,” he complains, his forehead bumping against yours, trying to keep up with your rapid fire laps and sucks. 

“No,” you laugh, fingers lacing into the lapels of his trench coat and using the leverage to drag your breasts over his hardened pectorals. He grunts at the sensation, one arm wrapping around your lower back, pinning you to him. When he finally manages to work his way free of your frantic presses, he lowers his lips to your neck, mimicking the same path you’d taken with him, his teeth nipping and pulling until your humming, giving him a thin cry of encouragement that spurs him on. 

Tomura drags a canine over your pulse and you shiver, folding into his crumpled embrace. He’s almost having to hold you upright and he growls when you slip from his arms, annoyed you’re making this so fucking difficult. 

“I said, keep still,” he reminds you, heaving you back up, lean forearms bracing you to him. You smile and lace your arms around his neck, wanting his lips again. He allows the pull, loving the contrast of your plush skin against his. He’s a fast learner and this time, it’s his tongue taps and maneuvers for entrance, swallowing down your needy pants. His nose presses into your cheek and you cup at his jaw, stroking the warm skin until he slows his frantic pace, meeting you halfway, and lingering in your wet softness.

Then, just as he’s getting comfortable, you dig your teeth into his lower lip, pulling until you bleed out a little taste of copper. He snarls and shoves you away, lifting the side of his hand to his injured mouth. 

“What was that for?” He snaps, tapping his fingers against the wound, watching as they come back red. “The fuck is wrong with…” His ire stutters to a halt when he catches sight of you. 

You’ve already slipped your shirt over your head and now your fingers are twisting until you unclasp your bra, sliding the lace down your arms. The cool air makes your nipples tighten but you don’t attempt to cover yourself from him. Instead, you arch an eyebrow at his abashed expression and begin to unbutton your pants, your fingers teasingly lingering over the button and zipper, before lowering the denim down the curve of your hips. 

You don’t even hear him approach. No, you’re too distracted by your little show to notice him until you feel those warm fingers tracing over the newly bared swells of your skin. You lift your head and your eyes catch his, smiling at the hazy hunger that’s blazing out at you. His touch is tentative and you roll your eyes openly at him, lifting your own hands over his, pressing him until he’s digging those four digits into your sumptuous flesh. 

His thumb rubs over your pebbled nipple and you reward him with a low moan, your eyes slipping behind your heavy eyelids. He cups at your other breast and lifts the weight of you into his palm, openly marveling at the feel of you. Still, it’s not enough and if you’re going to get your point across, you need him to give you more than these lazy strokes. 

“Take off your jacket,” you tell him, stepping away from him, quaking minutely in the loss of his warmth. 

“What?” he asks, clearly too overwrought to hear you. So, you help him along. Your fingers snatch the shoulders of his trench and you yank it off him, tossing the fabric down to the gritty floors. Then, you shove at him again. He isn’t as taken aback this time and he rallies immediately, snatching at you and dragging you against him, making you gasp at the harsh sensation of his dark clothes against your bare front. 

“What do you want?” you ask him, licking your tongue along the underside of his jaw, listening to his shuddering breaths. “What do you want to do to me, Tomura? Come on, I know you’ve got some idea. Fucking show me. Don’t let me boss you around, unless that’s what you’re wanting today to be about. I can take those reigns from you. I’m better at this after all. Less...flustered,” you pause, sucking and nipping at his neck, enjoying the indecisive flex of his fingers on your upper arms.

He allows you one more bite and then he’s tossing you down, not caring where you land. Thankfully, you sprawl over his discarded jacket, the fabric sparing you from the neglected wooden floor. You’re trying to regain your bearings when you hear his belt clatter to the floor. You look up at him, watching as he flings that dark shirt away, showing you the lean muscles that you’ve wondered about for so long. God, for someone so lanky, he looks fucking good. 

Tomura smirks at your expression and swiftly yanks his pants and boxers away too, revealing something even more mouthwatering. Fuck, fuck, you think, an involuntary gasp leaving your lips. His cock is thick, pulsing and absolutely dripping with his precum. The tip is a lovely pink, curving toward that chiseled stomach of his and damn, you want to suck on it until he’s putty in your hands. 

As if he can read your mind, Tomura steps closer, giving himself a few tugs as he peers down on you, imperious and almost perfectly in control. “You want it?” He asks, trying to hide that sudden shift in his voice, wanting to show you that he understands what you’re expecting from him. You nod and bite your lip, looking up at him from feathery eyelashes. 

“Come here,” he requests, slowing those pulls and letting his precum slip from his fist to the floor, tempting you with those tiny droplets of arousal. Obediently, you rise to your knees, fingers tracing up his thighs, smiling at the light buckling he gives you, his calves twitching and shaking. 

You tease your way to the apex of his hips and pause, lingering along that dip of his stomach. “Can I taste you?” you question coquettishly and you adore the moan that falls from his lips. 

Taking that as a yes, you slowly lower your mouth to him, ghosting the tip of him over you. Rubbing him back and forth, painting that thick precum over your lips until they’re glistening. Tiring of this little game, his fingers dip into your hair and he grips you, hard. With one pull, he’s burying that velvet heat of his length past the ring of your lips and into the sweet cavern of your mouth. His cock swells and throbs as you lap ravenous at the hefty weight of him.

He’s salty and earthy and you let your tongue swirl over his slit, lapping into that leaking gap until he’s murmuring nonsense over you. He’s almost too big for you to take, so one of your hands lifts and wraps around his base, easing your sucks and ensuring that none of him is left out of this gift of mind numbing ecstasy you’re bestowing upon him. 

There are several veins, racing along the side of his cock and you tickle along each of them, pressing until you can feel the beat of his heart, frantic and fluttering. Soon, he begins to silently ask you for more, rutting his hips against your face, scraping himself along the back of your throat. When you heave around him he lets out a loud, elongated moan and digs in again, lingering until you’re nearly choking. 

You chance a peek up at him and are surprised to see him gazing right back, those red eyes of his clouded and muddled. His hand keeps an insistent pressure against the back of your head, demanding that you keep going. So, you pick up the pace, lapping and sucking, hollowing your cheeks until a thin line of your drool begins to trickle along your chin, dripping onto your knees.

“Can...can I…” he begins, fingers starting to tremble, his knees buckling. No, that’s not what you want from him. You shake free of his hand, letting him slip from your mouth, and he stammers and sputters at the loss, his eyes narrowed and dark, glaring at you with a raw frustration. 

“No,” you tell him, keeping one hand on him, stroking him, maintaining that steady pressure until he’s grunting, his hips instinctively canting into the tantalizing motion. “No, you don’t ask me for anything. Yeah, I can finish you off, if you need me to take control, but it’s not going to be on your terms. If you’re wanting something Tomura, you better fucking take it. Stop asking me for permission. I’m not-- mmph--”

He rips your hand off of his dick and his fingers curl beside your ears, forcing your mouth back, and impaling you on his length, immediately gagging you on his heady thrusts. You inhale sharply, your breath catching, failing as he keeps railing into you. More saliva slides out of your lips and you falter, a weak whimper echoing around him. 

“Mmm,” he growls, holding your face as he presses against the back of your throat loving the clenching and mewls you give him. “That feels fucking good, (Y/N). Taking all of my cock, ah- fucking choking on it. You’re so fucking greedy. Don’t worry, I’ll give you more. Let’s see, what would make this even better, oh, I know. Saw it in a porn once. Put your hands behind your back and don’t move them unless I tell you to.”

Immediately, you clasp your fingers together, letting them rest against your lower back. The suspension knocks you off kilter, but Tomura braces your head with his other hand, pinning you between his palms. His dick is still lancing in and out of your mouth, scraping against your tonsils, making you swallow and open, trying to push yourself past that oppressive gagging sensation.

“Ahhh, such a good girl, now spread your legs and lift up, just a little bit, yes- right there. Better keep those hands still,” he taunts, pulling his cock out until it hangs against your lower lip, glimmering with the sheen of your ministrations. Then, he dives back in, thrusting and grinding until his balls are papping against your soaking chin. Your legs tremble as you hold yourself up and you can feel your own arousal, slipping down your inner thighs, splattering onto that dark trench coat of his. 

You’re heaving under him, grunting and slobbering trying to not fucking choke on the girth that’s being pistoned into you. He’s gasping praise at you, his white head thrown back, and his lower abdomen is rippling, letting you know he’s so, so close to spilling down your abused throat. He bows over you as he cums, spewing thick ropes of his release into you. You gulp at him, determined to let every last drop slither down your waiting throat, longing to savor everything that he’s giving you. 

True to your promise, you keep your hands clasped and you nearly topple over when he tugs free of your lips. Tomura takes pity on your wilted form and lowers himself to his knees, wrapping one hand around you and tapping twice on your shaking digits, letting you know you can relax your grip. You fall forward, and he waits above you, watching you with a mounting fascination. Once you catch your breath, you look up at him, not caring that you’re still covered in a mix of tears, spit and his cum. He smirks at your dishevelment, pleased by your open display of your wanton lust for him. 

“See? It’s not hard to take what you want, to do what you want,” you pant, still trying to gulp down a few more rough intakes of air.

Tomura sucks his teeth at your bravado, but you notice he’s having a little bit of trouble steading his own breathing and his hands are twitching as they reach for you. You hum when he cups at your dips and curves, lingering over spots that make you moan for him. As he plucks at one of your puckered nipples his eyes lift to yours and he leans close, pressing a wet line of kisses against your collarbone.

“Lay back,” he rumbles, still sucking at the hollow of your throat. You do as he says, propping yourself on your elbows, curious and waiting. He’s slowed down now that he’s slaked that first brush of pent up aggression, but he’s still got a little more to burn. You can see it, lingering behind his vermillion eyes, gleaming under the carnal intrigue. 

His fingers, so dangerous and deadly, race down your sides, falling to the juncture of your legs and dipping into the slick that he finds. He parts your folds, bracing himself over you, his lips sucking bruises into your skin. The gossamer threads of your leaking cunt run down his fingers and onto his open palm and he groans into your neck, nuzzling his nose to your skin and inhaling, deeply. 

“Does that feel good?” He asks, his voice scraping, like sandpaper, hoarse and undone along your heated cheek. Ok, you think, arching as he dips one digit into you, you can let him have that one question, especially when your mind is fogging over like this, unable to think of anything but that ache that’s pounding through your core. You roll your hips again, urging that finger to slip further and he hisses as you pull him in, your walls trembling at the intrusion. 

“Fuck,” he grunts, lifting himself to look down at you, his eyes wide with an awed marvel. “You’re so…”

“Mmm, so what?” you ask, wanting him to keep talking to you, loving rasp of his tone as it tells you such sinful things.

“So soft and warm and...God...so wet,” he replies, adding another finger, watching as you whine for him, your lower lips parting and welcoming him. He pumps the digits, in and out, at a steady rate, waiting for each quiver and ripple, trying to feel his way along, wanting to please you. 

“Can--” he stops himself, flushing as your eyes open and snap to his, a rough displeasure written over your face. He tears his gaze from yours and scowls, letting his fingers press a rougher rhythm into you, sucking his teeth at his unspoken inexperience. 

“This feels good,” you reassure him, not wanting to completely leave him adrift, knowing that he does need a little piece of guidance, for this part, at least. “Why don’t you get a closer look?” 

Tomura looks back to you and nods before sliding down your body, lowering himself until he’s face to face with his prize. His mouth drops and he licks at his chapped lips, painting a few, warm, exhales against your sensitive folds. You squirm at the sensation and he grins, leaning closer, his free hand spreading you for his inspection. 

“Is this…” his voice trails off and you can feel him wandering his way to just the right spot. When he lifts the fleshy hood of your clit and thumbs the distended pearl you gasp and shiver, your head falling back against his jacket, thumping against the floor. 

He laughs and you can feel him getting ready to swipe at you again, his thumb already slippery and near, the heat of it radiating against that sensitive bundle. “You like that,” he crows, repeating the motion until you’re writhing. “But—” he ponders, moving so his lips are pressed against you, resting on those sopping folds, waiting for you to look up at him. Once your head lifts and your eyes meet his, he lowers his mouth, sliding his tongue over you. 

“Oh,” you whisper, your hands automatically lifting and curling into his hair, threading the white tendrils along your palms. His tongue is rough and bumpy as it glides along, pausing to lap at some of your arousal. He smacks his lips at the taste, savoring the flavor before voraciously pressing back into you for more. When he pauses his explorations to give your clit a soft suck, you can’t help but flail, your back bowing and thighs tightening around his head. 

Tomura grunts at the rough treatment, prying your legs apart but not letting up on that suction, pleased he’s found something that makes you tremble to pieces in his hands. He’s always liked working you up, so it makes sense that, in this instance, he’s no different. 

His long digits are scraping into you, dragging along your quivering walls and spreading your cunt apart, leaking your arousal all over his jacket and onto his chin. He’s not satisfied yet, you’re not satisfied yet, so he keeps going, listening and watching, catching on to what makes you cry out his name, learning and adapting at an alarming speed. 

“T-Tomura,” you keen, your hips lifting, grinding yourself against his face, begging him to not stop. You feel a smirk lift his lips and his tongue begins to circle and lick over your clit, maintaining a steady pressure. Meanwhile, his fingers have latched onto something delicate and spongy within your pussy, repeating an arched gesture, curling and uncurling as they stroke your budding flames higher. 

“So good…” you murmur, hardly able to form the words as you feel that all encompassing tingle race along your bloodstream. “You’re doing so f-fucking good.” 

In response, he begins to suckle on your clit, lightly tracing a canine over the pulsing bundle and that’s all that it takes. Your head dips back, pressing into the floor so hard that your neck arches with your back and your legs wrap around him, holding him to you as you quiver and shake under him. You can feel your heartbeat as you return to yourself, thumping a rapid beat over your breastbone and radiating out to your fingers and toes. 

Tomura, for his part, hadn’t stopped lapping at you, his tongue replacing his fingers as he pushes the wet appendage into you, soaking up each wave of your release. Even when you’d dropped your death grip, your legs and arms flopping away from him, boneless and shaking, he’d kept on. After a few minutes of this, his lips suddenly feel a little too ragged, the chapped skin scratching against your sensitive, overstimulated, flushed lower lips. You do your best to wriggle away, but he stills your movements, not quite finished. 

“Ah- that...it’s starting to hurt,” you grouse, pushing a hand against his bowed head. That declaration seems to get through and, finally placated, he gives you one last lick and lifts his head, his eyes glinting down on you, dark and mischievous. 

“I want to fuck you,” he tells you, wiping a hand across his mouth, dragging the last of your essence away. You tilt your head and grin up at him. “So fuck me,” you reply, spreading your legs again, making room for his trim hips.

“Not like this,” he qualifies, his eyes hooded as he runs a hand along your leg, enjoying your skin, warm and pliant under his palm.

“Then how?” you ask, a little bewildered by this shift in attitude. Tomura leans up, resting on his haunches, leering at your nakedness, another smirk lifting his lips, arching that scar.

“Stand up,” he instructs. 

You pull your legs away and slowly rise to your feet, waiting for him to do the same. Once the two of you are eye level again, he tugs you to him, his lips pulling and nipping at yours. You can’t help but melt into his persistent touch and when he feels you slacken against him, he starts to push you backwards. He walks you slowly, carefully, but once your back touches the cold wall, his caresses become rougher, more insistent. 

He’s lifting your chin and his teeth are doing more biting than nipping, pulling at your lips until you’re gasping and swollen. He begins to lift away and you protest the movement, but his hand presses into your chest, shoving you back to the wall. You freeze at the forceful treatment, your eyes opening and fastening onto his. Waiting for his next move.

Tomura’s regained that wild look, his eyes hardening, sharpening like ruby slips of flint as they linger over you. “Turn around and brace your hands against the wall,” he commands and, for an instant, you debate pushing back, challenging his order, but that’s not what you’re here for. No, you’d come here with one thought in mind. 

To see if you could show him what choices, what strong inner drive, wholly independent of his Sensei, he did have. 

You’d watched that kidnapping debacle and all you could think about was how much better, how much stronger he’d be if he could just get out from under the thumb of that man, that voice on the tv. Even with this informal exercise of your own, Tomura had taken to your carnal lessons like a fish to water. He had always been a natural born leader, someone who cultivated and demanded change, he just needs a chance to try. A chance to prove that he didn’t need to ask permission, to ask questions. No, he only needed to act and he could make his aspirations a reality. 

So, you turn, splaying your fingers against the wall and waiting for his next move, tilting your head, wanting to see him. He runs a calloused hand over the plush swell of your ass, kneading the skin and stepping closer. Once his hips are flush with your posterior, he ruts his newly re-hardened cock against you, his ever copious precum aiding his motion, letting him glide between your cheeks, easing into that cleft. You groan and press back, wordlessly asking for him to keep going. 

Suddenly, his palm smacks against your ass, stinging the flesh and sending a sharp crack around the barren room. “I said, push out more. How am I supposed to fuck you when you’re plastered to the wall like that?” Tomura questions, his voice deep and guttural. You brace your hands against the peeling wallpaper and jut your ass out, presenting yourself to him, quietly hoping he’ll reward you with another spank. Pleased, Tomura does just that, his other hand lifting and smarting against your other, neglected cheek, imprinting his mark on you, even if it’s only for a brief moment, and his fingers linger on the warmth he’s raised from your skin. 

“Good girl,” he groans, taking his cock in his hand and searching for that weeping entrance to your waiting pussy. You aid him as best as you can, arching your hips until he finally, finally slips into you. Tomura lets out a deep sigh as your cunt devours his cock, slicking him into the heat of your rippling channel. “Oh, fuck,” he moans, pressing until his hips are flush with your ass, grinding his bony hipbone into your supple softness.

He gives you a brief second to adjust before he bows his head over your shoulder, panting and grunting. “Hold on,” he gasps, slowly pulling his hips back and then ramming his straining cock back into you. You mewl at the sudden ferocity of his thrusts, your head dipping against the steady weight of the wall. 

He offers you no reprieve as he pounds into you, his teeth latching onto your skin, sucking and drooling, losing himself in you. His balls tap against your swelled ass and you moan when he traces one hand around you, his fingers seeking your clit and pinching at the nub. 

Your teeth begin to chatter, but he doesn’t let up, maintaining that mind numbing pace, pressing and grinding until you can’t fucking think straight. He’s completely untethered and he slakes out all of those pent up questions, feelings, hurts and wants against you. After a time, he begins to murmur things to you, finally sucking up his loose tongue and resting his chin on the mess he’s left on your skin.

He’s worried he can’t do it. 

He’s never been alone, not like this. 

Sure, he has the others, he has Kurogiri, but it’s not the fucking same. 

He needs to see this through. 

He wants to, he has to.

Where do you go, when there’s no one else to turn to?

It’s like a confessional, this rutting he’s doing and it’s bleeding all of those thoughts away, letting them pool against the front of his mind and then, pop, they shift away. 

Oh this helps, he thinks, loving how you’re fucking taking him, how much you fucking need him. He can’t let you go. He can’t, he won’t. You’re all he has left. After all this, he can’t lose anything else. No, you were right, he’s gotta start taking things, snatching up pieces until he becomes this unstoppable force, greater than his Sensei, greater than All Might, greater than all of them. Yes, yes, yes, when he has you like this, everything else feels so fucking simple. 

He’s slowing, his hips beginning to stutter and press erratically against you. There’s no need to worry about you cumming for him, not when you’ve already broken around him so many times in the last few minutes. No, the second he started panting all of those thoughts against you, you were lost, your cunt gripping him so tightly you were worried it might never let go. 

Finally, with one last thrust, Tomura grinds his hips against you, his cock swelling and pulsing as he spills himself into you. The sensation of his cum splashing against your walls hurtles you over that edge one last time and you almost collapse, your legs shaking so badly you can't support your own weight. The only thing that prevents you from falling is Tomura. His arms snake around your waist and he holds you to him, his forehead resting heavily against your shoulder, sticking to your skin. 

After a long beat, Tomura pulls himself out of you, grunting at the loss of your warmth and sinks to the floor, dragging you with him. Naked and gasping, the two of you cling to the other, waiting for the world to stop spinning as you come back to yourselves. Tomura recovers first, tugging you to his chest and wrapping himself around you, his chin perched on the familiar slope of your shoulder.

“You didn’t...you didn’t need to do this, but...” Tomura halts, his voice soft as his lips press rough kisses to your skin, silently saying what he really means, what you mean to him.

“That’s not true,” you counter, turning your head toward him. “You deserve to make a choice for yourself. You’re your own boss now. Now all you have to do is act like it. Don’t make those mistakes again. You call the shots, not your Sensei, not anyone else in the League, just you. You’ll have other choices soon, so don’t doubt yourself, it’s not like you.”

He huffs out a laugh and buries his nose in your neck, inhaling your scent as he licks at a rising bruise. “I don’t think you’ll like my next choice,” he rumbles, one hand drifting over your side and cupping the soft mound of your breast.

“That depends on what it is,” you smile, your eyes closing at the tempting touch.

“Mmm, do me a favor,” he begins, nipping at your earlobe. “Get on your knees and open your mouth. You looked so fucking pretty when you were sucking on my cock, I wanna see it, one more time.”

“What?” you question, absolutely incredulous, “again?”

“Do as I say (Y/N),” he replies, rubbing his rising length along your ass.

“God,” you gasp, bucking at the sensation, “what have I done? At this rate, I won’t be able to walk for a week.”

“You’ll like it,” Tomura promises, his voice dark, “I’ll make sure that you do.”

Notes: never have i ever liked that kidnapping bullshit. i guess it lets AFO face off with All Might, but for Tomura’s development? it makes no sense and he’s never done anything like that again, in canon. so, uh, yeah. booo kidnapping scheme. 

Tags: @spicy-skull, @xwildskullx, @yixxes, @ghstmthr, @rekoii, @diaouranask, @bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

[buckyjamess-archive]

𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲 ❁ 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼

chapter eighteen • a/n: last chapter folks- wanna thank all those who interacted/read it, I hope you enjoyed it! ♡ gonna miss these fools, ngl • wordcount: 2k • warnings: nothing but fluff. Parenthood. Babies. Kids.

summary

going through  rough years after losing your husband, you try to raise your daughter the best you can. With the help from the wilson's you make the best of it but the road is bumpy when sam introduces you to his friend.

masterlist

His hands are warmer and maybe even bigger as his fingers are intertwined with yours, gently swaying back and forth, his thumb rubbing the back of your hand or a light squeeze to remind you he's still there. 

a few steps ahead, rosie groans, huffs and puffs as she pushes the stroller the best she can. Talking to her little brother who gurgles back just as much. 

"You're really heavy!" 

a soft pink, round handbag with minnie mouse printed on the front hangs loosely in Steve's other hand. Handed to him seconds after leaving the restaurant by Rosie herself as she offered to push her little brother back home. A heavy diaper bag he'd taken off the stroller to take away some weight, hangs of his shoulder– you told him you could carry one of the two but Steve being Steve, refused your offer and instead clamped his hand in yours.

A day out planned by the man walking next to you. A day with the four of you, letting Rosie and JJ get used to Steve being around for more than the two hours every night before getting tucked in. That Steve wasn't just a friend anymore– though Rosie 'just knew' when you told her Steve was more than a friend, a special friend. 

'I don't kiss my friends like that' 

Rosie didn't mind, or at least you think. She was good with everyone, stranger or not. Opening up to Steve wasn't a problem, becoming friends with Steve came easy for the girl. 

And bucky, bucky would always be dad.

'Now I have three daddies. My real daddy, my normal daddy and steve.' 

And though you never intended to let Steve in your life so quickly, it became serious pretty fast. 

Delicately glueing back each other's pieces left of a broken heart; giving solace, a shoulder to cry on and someone to hold. Steve and you never intended to become this, you were just friends, used-to-be-coworkers. It happened. Bucky no longer floating through your head every other minute or feeling that ache in your chest– just you and Steve and for now after the heartbreak Bucky caused you could in all honesty say that Steve Rogers treated you better than anyone ever did.

The stroller comes to a halt when Rosie stills in front of the apartment block. She let's go of the stroller and places both hands on her sides, bright yellow sunglasses resting on the bridge of her nose, she sighs heavily. 

"That was heavy." 

You and Steve chuckle at Rosie her stance as if an old man admiring his self-built furniture, sarcasm dripping from her body yet as innocent as can be. 

"I bet it was, kid." 

"Yes, JJ eats too much." 

"Says the girl who ate all my fries." 

Letting go of your hand, Steve hands Rosie back her own bag which she happily takes– slipping the diaper bag from his shoulder, you wrap your hand around it and carefully toss it over your own. Hand digging in to find your keys. Taking the few steps up the building, you push open the door and watch how Steve casually carries the stroller and JJ up the steps and follows Rosie in the building.

The walk to the elevator is short, the three of you and the stroller packed tight in the small space– you stay quiet, watching the interaction between Rosie and Steve, your heart grows ten times its size. You thank the gods above for giving you all these amazing men in your life, even if they broke your heart in different ways- teaching you the ways of life, giving the best things to ever exist, trusting you, caring about you..loving you.

Riley, your first real love. The one that changed your life forever. Teaching the ropes of this crazy thing called adult life. Be the calm to your chaos. Showed you love like you'd never had before– sure enough about it all to put a ring around your finger and giving you the most important job of them all; be a mother to a beautiful, funny and feisty daughter. Riley who gave you real heartbreak, leaving an empty hole in your heart and took a piece of your soul with him

Sam who stood by your side through it all. Going through the process together of losing a spouse and partner on the field. Your shoulder to lean on when things got rough, a friend of your man turned into your best friend– showing you the meaning of family by letting you into his own.

Bucky who stole your heart so fast, you never had a chance to let it settle– a wild man willing to wait. A wild man who showed you that life after Riley could be something beautiful; taught you how to love again, brought you back to life and gave you the gift you call your son, gave Rosie a father figure. Bucky the best mistake you'd ever made in your life.

And maybe all these men were needed to get you with the one. Without Riley no Sam and without Sam no Bucky, and you'd never have met Steve if you didn't move to Brooklyn. All these men lead you to him.

Steve. The man who picked up the pieces and put them back together– the man you so desperately needed in your life. The calm that Riley once gave you and the wild and silly bucky once showed. The one for real this time.

Even if things didn't go your way, men changing every chapter of your book– life was pretty amazing. 

Steve must've seen the slight wobble of your chin and your eyes filling with tears. His firm hand back into yours, you look up to meet his blues, you shoot him a tight lipped smile.

"Mommy, why are you crying?" 

You inhale deeply, quickly wiping away the tears that have made their way down your cheeks and not trusting your own voice, you smile at your daughter but shrug. 

"You know what I think?" Steve quips, the hand that's intertwined with yours now snaking around your waist to pull you ever closer into his side "I think mom's just really happy." 

Rosie nods unsure but gives a toothy grin "then I'm happy too, then we're all happy." 

"Then we're all happy." 

He reads you like an open book, something you got to love and hate over the last few weeks. Nitpicking little flaws to get under your skin or be the biggest sap whenever you're feeling down; he knows you like the back of his hand. 

"This is so stupid," you breath out a shaky chuckle "Jesus, I'm crying in an elevator–" 

"It's not stupid," Steve reassures "we're all just very happy, right?" 

"Yeah." You nod. 

Squeezing your side, Steve let's you know he's there and plants a kiss to your temple before resting his chin upon your head.

"I love you, sweetheart." 

Bucky can't quite believe it himself; just a month ago he labeled Steve Rogers as his arch enemy and wish bad things upon the blonde and now, now bucky hopes and wishes the blonde would treat you better than anyone else– welcomed Steve into the mess. 

At ease, okay, alright but above all grateful. You didn't kick him out of your life or that of his kids– you wouldn't be the first mother to do such a thing, he's seen it on TV multiple times. Bucky's grateful that you and him still were a thing just not the same. Parents of your kids, friends.

Though jealousy would strike once in a while and he reminded himself of the mistake he'd made, It was good this way.

Big helium balloons in the shape of letters and numbers float above the table shoved against the wall, reading 'JJ 1 YEAR'. Silver birthday garlands hanging from ceilings along the baby blue and white balloons– table filled with snacks, gifts and drinks. Cramped in your apartment but done together– texting back and forth, nights of planning brought you all here, JJ his first birthday.

Friends and family here to celebrate something the two of you made from love.

Bucky leans against the kitchen bar, one hand tucked deep into the pocket of his jeans and the other wrapped around a bottle of beer. Eyes upon the small crowd gathered and lands on Steve, barely on his knees next to a side table, small plastic tiara on his head as Rosie applies makeup on the guy's face from the set she'd just got as a gift from uncle Sam.

Bucky smiles, at least you picked a child magnet, a guy who'll love his kids as much as the two of you do. 

Bucky scans the crowd again and spots you without any problem, another smile on his face at the sight of his godchild hailey holding JJ, probably gossiping around with you.

It's good this way.

"Hey man." 

Snapping out of his own world, Bucky meets the eyes of a man he hasn't spoken to in months; sam. Not since he got to learn about Bucky's mistake.

"Hey." Bucky shoots him a tight lipped smile.

Standing still next to Bucky, Sam leans against the bar in the same stance and follows Bucky's gaze to the crowd to you, his son and hailey.

"He looks like you." Sam confesses "scary." 

Letting his head fall, Bucky chuckles and nods "at least we know it's mine." 

Sam chuckles along till it dies down, silence falling over both men as they keep watching the scene in front of them. How you leave Hailey with her nephew and mingle with some friends– bucky can feel Sam's eyes burning on his face. 

"Told you so, didn't I?" 

Bucky snorts "Let's not go there, I've learned my lesson." 

"Do you?" Sam quips with a grin on his face "No new love on the horizon?" 

Bucky nods, he has learned his lesson and he knows he'll never find someone like you again– he has definitely learned his lesson and definitely not ready for something new.

"No man, I'm going to focus on my kids." Bucky breathes out a soft chuckle "apparently I still have two." 

"Rosie loves you– I have to thank you for that, giving Rosie a father figure." 

"Wouldn't trade it for anything else." 

"I know." 

Another, comfortable silence falls like a thick blanket. Knowing each other well enough to know what they're thinking– a smile creeping on both men's faces at the sight of you pushing yourself past some people and beelining towards the duo.

"Mind If I join?" 

Scooting aside, both Sam and bucky make space for you in between and your arm that snakes around Bucky's back gives him a warm and fuzzy feeling– he pulls you closer into his side with his arm dropped over your shoulder 

"A year ago you nearly passed out." You mumble softly 

"I didn't pass out." Bucky scoffs 

"I said nearly–" 

"Not even nearly." 

"The nurses had to sit you down." 

"They never–" 

"They did!" 

It's a game of back and forth, getting underneath each other's skin and Bucky hopes things like this will never change even if you decided to spend the rest of your life with steve. The silly arguments, the silly fights and the lame jokes– bucky would be alright as long as that stayed. 

The squeeze around his side makes Bucky aware you're still there. Locking eyes with yours, one's he's found himself lost in many times before, he copies your smile. 

"What?" 

"Nothing– we did good." You state.

Though things didn't go the way it was supposed to, the two of you did good indeed, more than good even. 

"I think we did amazing." Bucky smiles back.

Wrapping his arm around your shoulder a bit tighter, he places a quick kiss on your forehead before following your gaze into the crowd, his daughter, his son, his family and steve.

It's good this way.

"So, guys," Sam clears his throat from beside you "really gotta know what happened on hailey her birthday party that day." 

"No, you don't." You and Bucky chuckle in unison "you really don't."

Taglist: @farfromshawn @Nicollettemarie @wooya1224 @felicityofbakerstreet @agentmstark @sierrax023 @lilyevanswhore @qhbr2013 @buckybarnesobsessed @themaddies-obx @aloserwithoutacause @aanngie @sebby-staan @sweetth1ng @starrystarkey93 @libidinexx @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @gasly-kvyat @brown-bi-beautiful @peter-laufeyson @im-squished @meshlababy @lindseyrae20 @cb97skies @qwccrr @ssprayberrythings @yougottalovefandoms @jbcalway @realgaytrash @natyvwe @poetryazenth @winterberryfox @ahahafudge @okiegirl24 @0moondoodler0 @why-wait-4-eventually @abzidabzy

[born-to-lose]

Hey, hope you don't mind me coming here about your addition to my tags on the "meet and greet" post? 🥺

I just wanna add that yes, meeting fans without taking money for it is totally possible even if there are like 400-800 people at the show... (of course it is) and at almost every concert I've been to (exception are twenty one pilots and I think alestorm, but I didn't check if you could meet them because I didn't care about it) the bands were always like "yeah, as always we'll come to our merch stand in a bit to have a chat or a beer, take some pics and give autographs so feel free to join us there!"

And that's what they always did (at a show with 4 bands the main act didn't but that's because I think they don't do anything like this in general?). I can say that I have a bunch of pics with quite a few bands/band members, bands that are about as 'famous' as blind channel or even more known. Also idk how many signed records or shirts I have from these bands (one of them used to be my favorite band until last year so I've seen them quite often before covid started) and they always tried to take their time with as many fans as possible. Young fans, teenagers, young adults or even adults and elders.

Example: I asked most members of my former favorite band if they could record a small audio for a friend of mine who doesn't have the chance to see them but liked them a lot as well and they took their time to do that. Some just a quick "hi, this is xy, sorry to hear you can't be here but I hope you'll get a chance to see us on our next tour!" but one even spoke for a whole minute after already having talked to me and a friend for like 5min and having taken pics with us and given autographs... (even got a hug from the members I asked which... 🥺😭🤲🏻)

So, idk if I'm just spoiled and simply used to very different behavior where the artists are happy to meet the fans and interact with them as much as they can and would never even think about taking money for that (admittedly the members of these bands are between... 30 and 50? So maybe that's a difference as well?) or idk... So maybe I'm not the right person to really form an opinion on this whole topic?

Sorry for this super long text which might be super boring and irrelevant (and very biased/personal) but uhm... Yeah I felt the need to share my experiences when it comes to this whole artist/fan interaction.

Oh and, I've been to probably 20+ shows (club gigs and 'festivals' (not really festivals but it's hard to explain)) so it's not like that was a one time experience ^^

I don't mind at all!! And exactly, so many bands do that for free! Sure, it's not something you should take for granted because they're sacrificing their free time, but that's part of building up some kind of connection with the fans to let them know you're "one of them" and not like, better than them. And often to just thank them for the support

I was in an American band's fan club for almost two years until they broke up and they regularly interacted with the members and sent us stuff they were working on and just random things and exclusive competitions (I won a necklace once lol). Tbh they're probably the band I know that cares the most for their fans

And the audio thing is so sweet omg 😭🥰 a friend of mine got a birthday video from Olli Herman because she's been a Reckless Love fan for so long and he's just the sweetest 🥺

I generally think Scandinavian bands (especially Finnish) tend to be more,,, personal towards their fans? Even when they're already more popular, they come to meet their fans. I've heard of Michael Monroe doing that and he's been huge since the 80s

[enchantedblackrose]

Merry Christmas Eve Eve!

**Not my picture. Google Images.**

This Thing Between Us

Pairing: Jay Halstead/Reader

Warnings: 1 F bomb near the end

Apologies, this has not yet been proofread by someone else. I was just too anxious to get it posted.

There's a knock on your apartment door which causes you to groan. You struggle to find the will to get off the couch and leave the warmth of your favorite sherpa blanket. In fact you contemplate not answering the door. You check your phone to make sure no one sent you a text about coming over.

0 new notifications 

Then there's another knock with a little more force behind it this time. Sighing, your curiosity is getting the better of you. You pause your favorite Christmas movie before standing up. 

'Ugh, Christmas,' you think to yourself. It is a large contributor to your current funk. But it's not your fault you find the holiday incredibly romantic. You can blame Hollywood and American commercialism for that. A constant string of movies, songs, and commercials are crammed down your throat before Halloween every year. Most depict having someone special, someone to cuddle, to sip hot chocolate with, to take you ice skating, or decorate the tree and bake cookies, someone to love and loves you back. You're painfully single and apparently sadistic, self sabotaging yourself with that movie.

You open the door and are met with those familiar piercing eyes belonging to your partner. The other leading cause of your pathetic state.. You met at work, both being a part of the elite intelligence unit for the Chicago Police Department. You're fiercely dedicated to the job, as is he, but that didn't stop either of you from hooking up. You've been sleeping together for a few months. You thought you could handle it all. The friendship, the casual hook ups, working closely together, the undeniable chemistry you two shared, but somewhere along the way you found yourself falling in love. 

Scared of falling alone, of ruining everything, you've kept your feelings a secret. Instead you have, rather unsuccessfully, attempted to limit the hook ups, vowing to make a clean break.

Eventually.

You truly don't even know how you get yourself into these positions, but then you see him smiling at you as he leans on your doorframe and the how becomes a lot clearer. 

"I have a candy cane for you."

"Ugh, Jay," you groan. "I'm really not in the mood. You should have called. I-"

"No, I have an actual candy cane for you." He pulled the curved peppermint stick out of his coat pocket offering it to you.

"Oh. Uh...thanks." You take the candy cane, slightly confused.

"I'm on the way to meet a CI about the case.I thought maybe you'd wanna come along?"

"Yeah, sure. Let me get changed real fast." You indicate for him to come inside. He steps through the doorway, accidentally brushing against you. You catch a whiff of his familiar scent and you find yourself thinking about pulling him to you. But you remember he's here for work. 

Having been at your place quite a few times, he knowingly heads for your couch.You make your way to your bedroom. You're halfway undressed when you hear Jay laugh. You peek your head out to see what sparked the laughter. He sees you and points to your Christmas tree.

It's about 2 feet, strung with multicolored lights, topped with a star that's too big. It's pathetic and the whole thing looks like it could topple over at any given moment.

"What is that?" He exclaims, still laughing.

You huff and cross your arms. "Stop it. I haven't exactly had the chance to go out and buy a new tree." It's true. The case has you logging more hours than normal and your current mental state wasn't exactly inspiring your Christmas spirit, either. As you finish getting out of your sweats and putting on "real" clothes, you hear Jay still chuckling softly. As much as you want to be annoyed by him, the sound makes you smile slightly.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Jay's informant has information that proves to be useful. You put in a call to the other members of the team. Soon enough there's a successful bust and several collars. Voight commends the team for a good job, then dismisses you all, rather quickly saying something about enjoying the start of the holiday when given the chance.

Jay takes you back to your place. You hesitate before getting out of his truck, struggling with your own conflicting wants.

"Do you wanna hang out for a bit?" You ask, losing your willpower.

He smiles and kisses your cheek almost brusquely. "I have some things to take care of."

You nod showing you understand, but hope the small smile you give is enough to hide your disappointment you can't help but feel. You slide out of his truck and give a careless wave bye. 

'It's fine,' you tell yourself repeatedly as you make your way up to your apartment. 'This is good even'. Obviously you were failing at breaking things off. This could be your chance. You start getting ready for the long, hot shower your body desperately needs.

~☆~☆~☆~☆

Feeling better than you have in awhile, you settle into your couch beginning your search for something to watch. A knock on your door interrupts. Unbelievable.

You open it to once again find Jay standing there, this time donning a red santa hat and holding an oversized box.

"What are you doi-"

He cuts you off. "Do you mind?" You step aside and he comes in placing the box down in the middle of your living room. For the first time you can see clearly what it is he's brought you.

You feel a wide grin take over your face. "You bought me a tree?" He notices your bright smile and beams back at you.

"I bought you a tree. And some decorations. They're in the boxes still in the hallway. I didn't know what you had." You rush to bring them in. Jay begins removing pieces of the tree from the box as you look through the ornaments and lights he's brought. You inspect each one thoroughly and with a smile. Occasionally Jay stops assembling the tree to look at you. When you feel his eyes on you, you turn to him.

"What?" But he just shakes his head and returns his focus to the tree. "You know," you start carefully, not wanting to appear ungrateful, "I do have a few ornaments from when I was a kid downstairs in the storage unit."

"Well, go get them," he grins."I'm good here."

You return a few minutes later. Jay turned on Christmas music while you were gone, as well as finished getting the tree up. The artificial evergreen stands at 6 ½ feet. With it's big, full branches it's easily the nicest tree you've had as an adult. 

Before he starts to string the lights up, he follows you to the couch where you sit with your small container of ornaments. You lift the lid carefully and begin showing them to him. There's an ornament with your name and date of birth on it. One has your kindergarten picture in it. You save your favorite for last and explain the sentimental value behind it. Jay listens intently as you speak and you swear you love him more for it. 

Together you both start decorating the tree, stopping only to make hot chocolate. Soon the tree is fully decorated and there's nothing more to do than admire it. You both sit on your couch taking it all in.

You curl into Jay and almost automatically he wraps his arm around you. "Thank you," you say softly. "For all of this." He pulls you tighter in response and begins combing his fingers through your hair, but the sweet action stirs something in you.

Sighing, you sit up. Jay looks up at you in alarm. "Hey. What's been going on with you? Hmm?" He nudges you playfully, but when you don't speak, he looks dejected and runs a hand quickly through his hair. He says your name softly. "C'mon. You know you can talk to me about anything and it's not like I haven't noticed you pulling away lately."

You look at him and swallow hard, unsure of what to say. "This isn't enough for me, Jay. I'm sorry. I thought it would be, but it's not."

"What's not enough? The tree? I thought you liked it?"

"No, not the tree! The tree's perfect. I love the fucking tree, okay?" Tears are starting to form as your emotions get the best of you.

"Then what? I'm gonna need a little more information. I'm sorry."

"I don't wanna be the coworker you screw around with. I wanna mean something to you, Jay! Not in the we're partners way, either."

"Aw, baby girl." Your heart aches at the endearment he's only ever used in your most intimate moments together. "Come here." He pulls you tight to him and as much as you don't want to, you welcome his strong embrace. He's quiet for a moment as he holds onto you and you're begging the tears not to fall. "I'm gonna need you to look at me." He gently pulls away and cups your face. He stares deep into your eyes. "This thing between us, it's for real; it's never just been casual for me and I am so sorry I didn't tell you that before now. I'm so in love with you."

There's no stopping the tear rolling down your cheek. Jay wipes it away with his thumb. "You mean that?" You ask, your voice hardly above a whisper. He nods. You smile. "I love you, too." The words are hardly out of your mouth before his lips are on yours. He pulls away after a moment, gently resting his forehead against yours.

Your eye catches the clock on the wall. 12:01 in the morning. It's officially Christmas Eve and the man you love, loves you. An almost inaudible laugh escapes you.

"What?" Jay asks, clearly puzzled.

"Nothing. I'm just happy."

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom season 2, eps 1-5 thoughts! opening the new season with episodes like these kinda blew me away. we had multiple serious episodes INCLUDING a two parter!! also, valerie :)

see prev episode thoughts in this tag <3

-I don't know what I expected s2 to open with. but danny portal incident in more detail was not it. (also, I hate to break it to you, sam, but danny's parent's bigass ghost hunting rv def chugs more gas than those vehicles, lmao. unless it runs on ectoplasm or something...)

-WHY WAS DESIREE IN THE SEWER? HAVING TEA WITH IT DOWN THERE?? Her making the giant cow come alive is a boss move, we've almost had all of my fav animals as ghosts now <3 I also don't like how sam was expecting danny to just, haunt the place so the cars wouldn't get sold? I KNOWWW I know she's 14 (and I had a very annoying phase like this, I think I mentioned in a previous post, I GET IT) but they're HIS powers, and messing with (1) dealership will not really put a dent in sales overall because they can just move the cars to another sales lot, and it certainly wont change the industry anyway, it's more of a minor annoyance for (1) location. Also, usually people who work at car sales places work on commission, so if they dont make a sale, they don't have money to pay bills, or eat. sam baby if u wanna be an activist you need to like, actually look into these things. with as much money as her parents have, she could be doing a lot..more useful things for causes she cares about? it's frustrating to see someone with resources who doesn't know how to use them. but shes 14 so again. cannot be really upset :/

-IS THIS A PREDATOR VS TERMINATOR VS FREDDY KRUEGER MOVIE BUT THEYRE ALL WOMEN?? you know, sam is so right to be excited about this. /I/ want to see this movie. that rules

-paulina inviting danny and friends to her quinceañera, aw! even if it is just to get phantom to show up :') and there'll be a meteor shower, and we KNOW danny wants to be an astronaut!! there's not a meteor shower every night!! the tickets are non-refundable, but..she's rich? like. gotta agree with danny, they never get invited!! I KNOW it's the principle of keeping promises, but if she was that upset, she should've said something. directly. I hated how she was like, passive aggressive about it through the episode, like you SAID IT WAS FINE, THAT YOU'D GO TO THE PARTY TOO. MOVIES SHOW FOR A FEW WEEKS IN THEATERS. IF YOU HAD A REAL PROBLEM YOU NEED TO TALK ABOUT IT. WE'VE HAD THIS PROBLEM BEFORE, SAM. YOUR FRIENDS. ARE NOT. MIND READERS.

-MR. LANCER GOING AFTER THE GHOST WITH THE FIRE EXTINGISHER LMAO

-this outfit is everything . anytime the show does an over the top cutesty pink outfit i WANT IT. it looks like shit I wear JKASDHF I HAVE a bow like that and a pink sweater. I need leg warmers </3

-SAMS GOTTA RE-HALF-KILL HIM??? thats fucked up. but also, he finally got his logo!! it took until s2!!! this episode was lowkey very fucked and I felt like it glossed over a lot. does sam have guilt about like. kinda KILLING HIM?? I know, he also agreed and walked into the portal. but. she made the choice to redo it SO quickly (even if it was because someone had to beat desiree) and danny, during their fight, brought up a lot of stuff sam's done in the past, meaning he was holding onto those memories and resentment was building. (I KEEP SAYING HE LOWKEY NEEDS THERAPY, BUT I THINK MOST EVERYONE IN THIS SHOW KINDA DOES) which...is a red flag? and then they didnt even GO to the party URGH I know she tried to make up for it, but it really felt like Sam fucked up and barely faced any consequences and got everything she wanted in the end. I KNOW it's a kids show obv they aren't going to go too in depth, and she undid the damage, kinda, but...I DUNNO how to articulate it but it rubbed me the wrong way.

-but on a note about desiree, her powers of wishes were STRONG ENOUGH TO ERASE NOT JUST THEIR MEMORIES, BUT DANNY'S POWERS?! fuck, if I was danny I'd be like, trying to make friends with her. I know they always have horrible side effects as most genie-granted wishes do, but...c'mon, I'd at least TRY to be like 'I wish no ghosts would hurt anyone in my town' or 'I wish vlad would lose his ghost powers forever no matter What and also forget about my mom' LIKE. SHIT DESIREE IS SO POWERFUL. rewriting reality powerful, basically!! appreciate her. respect her.

-aww, sam helping tucker pass the nurse's office so he wouldn't see because he's afraid of medical stuff? very sweet. I also don't like medical stuff, I've gotten a lot better at handling it tho. but seeing blood and needles still makes me feel lightheaded x_x

-FOLEY, BY TUCKER FOLEY. I want to make my own perfume, that's so cool. even if his first attempt isn't good, he's pretty consistently shown to have an inventor/entrepreneur streak in the show, so like. I can see him inventing or making something (or several somethings) that make him $$$ when he grows up :) proud of my creative son

-I know the 'creepy abandoned hospital on the edge of town' is a joke and the creepy hospital trope is so Worn Out, but in my town we actually DO have a hospital like that! my dad was born in it, but its not in use and hasn't been for, like, 20 years! it needs to be torn down but I think the city doesn't wanna pay the money. the inside is horrible, spray painted and broken glass and shit everywhere. but there's still like, rusty equipment and fucking DOLLS all over the place. the cops drive by it pretty frequently to make sure no one is like, breaking in. (because of water damage, some of the areas really aren't safe. also, asbestos, but people still go in anyway) but also, some of my town was used in a filming for a stephen king show. So it's lowkey spooky all over. just a fun personal tidbit :) to lead into saying, any hospital abandoned for any period of time is NOT safe to quarantine these kids in JKSAHDKF like I KNOW it's a ghost trying to do this, but NONE of these parents are even like, 'well, why dont we keep them in the regular, working hospital'....YIKES. this hospital looks pretty accurate to the one in town. grungy and spooky.

-fentons are tax evaders confirmed by jack's fear of being audited, lol no one is surprised

-ghost sickness via ghost bugs. horrifying concept. I actually expected it to be a new villain, not dr. spectra again! this is a very elaborate scheme. her new form rules, love the new costume. the way none of the bg kids seem to recognize her as their old school councilor. did we just forget about that completely?

-dash watching romance movies in the fucked up ghost hospital. same.

-'oh please, you're ghosts, do you have any idea what YOU smell like?' no, tucker, what DO ghosts smell like? I genuinely didn't know they would even have a smell, I actually want to know now.

-it feels like a while since we've seen jazz!! i was happy to see her again, even if she was a head in a jar for most the episode. I want another jazz-focused ep!!

-we finally see danny doing space-related stuff!! him and his friends stargazing to open ep 3 of s2. cute :) until, GHOST PIRATES!!!!! ...ghost pirate captain is a small child?? VOICED BY TAYLOR LAUTNER???

-oh, the easy listening is ember's song instrumental slowed. 'vapor drone' THEY VAPORWAVED HER!!! ember in a pirate outfit tho >>>>. and the cruise being called m.bersback JKASDHJK. ember adopting a little pirate brother is also pretty cute. concerning this teen and little kid have such bad opinions of adults, like, who hurt you?? (how did you DIE ALSO?? im always lowkey curious about that. we know desiree died at an old age, but her ghost form is young, probably mid-20s, so I wonder how that sort of thing works...its a more mental thing, isn't it?) but ghost team-ups are always cool to see, even if ember bailed after danny took her guitar. I guess she probably thinks youngblood can handle it (which, he's been owning danny this far in the ep, so...fair)

-tucker got that sponsorship from nasty burger for their radio!!! again, opportunistic money maker king, love to see it!!!

-danny taking control of the kids SO FAST. he makes a pretty great leader. no one is surprised, im pretty sure I said I think he's the most mature of the trio, once again, correct, because he's taken on so much responsibility already. all the teens suiting up in the jumpsuits to go save the adults and taking the ship over with a BLIMP. OKAY LETS GO. this feels like it should be a mid finale or straight up finale.

-...speaking of finales. why is ep 4-5 of s2 combined into a 50 minute episode? I havent even clicked play and im concerned. weird placement, like, this season JUST started and we're getting a two parter? okay...why are the episodes placed like this? why not put this at episode 10 or something, for a mid-season thing?

-this is also a cute dress. possibly my fav dress so far. can her parents give ME cute dresses, I'LL wear them.

-it turns out the castle fright knight was in is called pariah's keep and there's something worse than fright knight in there! lovely! fuck off vlad wtf are you doing <3 your hubris <3 is going to literally get you killed <3 'ring of rage' and 'crown of fire' are great names tho. ...vlad turning into a super polite guy when he was scared of mr. pariah was hilarious. and fright knight doing the same...I mean, it makes sense, he's a knight, he serves a king? happy to see fright knight again either way :) vlad telling him to call him tho, lmfao. you WISH HE WOULD. (I wish hed call me, too. 😔)

-so...jack being genuinely concerned about vlad...maddie really didn't tell him what happened at the cabin, did she. damn. if I was her id immediately come home and be like 'YOU WONT BELIEVE THIS SHITTTT THIS CREEPY GUY--' like, I feel like that stuff you need to tell your partner!!! I know she didnt want Jack to think she was an irresponsible parent putting danny in danger at that time, but STILLLL. maddie spilling boiling tea on him. get his ass. how is jack this oblivious to his wife's discomfort with vlad!! ughhh

-fenton wipe (tm). trademarked toilet paper.

-DANNY AND VALERIE BEING FRIENDS??? :D that was a cute moment. 'hey val <3' and 'if you like him like him, make a move, or someone else will ;)' at sam...damn!! I love her. valerie go for it girl!!! I hate how sam and tucker treat val also, like I GET IT YOURE PROTECTIVE AND DONT TRUST but if anything him befriending valerie will help when she finds out or he tells her like I feel like she'll be more understanding that they think! ALSO I feel like her reason for not liking ghosts is valid, like you haven't really explained the full story to her anyway! she doesn't seem to have any other friends after being booted from the a-listers so im like :( but seeing them kick butt together again was nice <3

-the ghosts all RUNNING FROM PARIAH DARK IS NOT GOOD, I thought he sent them to attack or something, but no. why doesn't someone just tell desiree 'hey i wish pariah dark would die' lol. once again I think she can solve every problem <3 but seeing all the enemies in one place, being civil and hiding together? love it.

-you just know danny's gonna have to clean up vlad's stupid mess. also, jack being willing to put on the ectoskeleton pants to help maddie, as soon as vlad heard it could kill him, he suggested jack do it instead of helping maddie himself? this is why jack got the girl, my man.

-ghost skeletons. how do you end up as a skeleton ghost in your afterlife instead of a humanoid like most the ones we've seen? lmao

-the ghosts just making new homes in various stores. I'd totally be setting up in an expensive clothing store if I was a ghost.

-valerie's dad is possibly the most useful adult so far, with that ghost shield expansion!!! and valerie saving vlad and danny, even tho shes been thru it already, shes still so good!!! this family rules.

-danny: *gently caresses valerie* :)

-*then he immediately TELLS HER DAD ON HER. and his first response is 'are you okay?' :'( such a good dad...

-*me every time fright knight breathes* youre doing SO great sweetie :)

-the fenton suit thing is so silly looking. does anyone take this thing seriously

-ALL THE GHOSTS FIGHTING WITH DANNY <3 AAAAA. and the fact that pariah isn't perma-defeated, but just locked away again. yikes. he'll probably get out again, won't he? it wasn't too clear, but if vlad DID make a pact with fright knight, I am rabid. I will beat vlad to death with the fenton bat (tm). YOU DONT DESERVE A COOL KNIGHT.

-valerie being direct with sam and challenging her? kinda love that, even tho I normally don't like 'catfight' type situations. because sam has been very passive aggressive about it which is annoying. valerie knows wtf she wants and wasn't even embarrassed to tell sam, but she did tell her, giving sam time to make her own move! and sam denied it and got embarrassed/mad! and sam did have a chance when danny was about to go off and fight, and she hesitated and didn't tell him. I feel like she's hesitating because they're friends and it might make it weird between the trio (poor tucker would be third-wheeling) but if u snooze u lose, u gotta GO after what u WANT girl. smh this is a No Tsundere Zone. 😤