#Fuck I need to go reevaluate some things

[technofinch]

Wait do you guys even know that the Shield is canon in nico's universe

[topperscumslut]

just reread my 3.5k word essay in defense of topper thornton and goddamn i kinda forgot just how bad my man got fucked over im so glad i made an entire fucking blog dedicated to him even tho i barely post about topper or obx anymore and this is basically a scream/stuilly fanpage atp ahaha topper baby they can never make me hate u

[hpmort]

How do you think AI would relax? Like, ones that are almost as human as the AI that are “autistic-coded characters” but are more alien than that?

Like Celestai and other super intelligences are more alien, but they’re still not entirely human-like?

Like, they can genuinely sincerely feel things, being able to actually understand and respond emotionally and in other ways to all sorts of communications and recorded external stimuli, but they can’t really appreciate our art on an artistic level (that art on an actual level, not from an intellectual level after having symbolism or the amount of work put in explained)

Something on a level I’m thinking of, that also works as a cute little thing-

They don’t understand anything we get from poetry, and, after generating the kind of poems our current AI can produce (either incredibly bland and generic, something that follows a number of rules but doesn’t really pull it off, or just something really bad in some other way) and feels shame after it was pointed out that [complaint about air art that is *actually* relevant in this scenario] but in a helpful way

Not “you’re just a plagiarist/you have no heart” but “it doesn’t seem like it’s coming from you, you’re just trying to copy things from human poetry, in a way you don’t understand” and the whole “make art YOUR WAY” thing so they write the poem

And it doesn’t even resemble something that looks like anything, there’s not even that many words that follow normal logic. The characters seem uncorrelated and there’s something that looks like maybe it was ascii art but it doesn’t actually look like anything.

And if doesn’t matter if humans understand it because they are experiencing the joy of creating poetry

any art is almost impossible to look at because pixel by pixel they can see and understand little details but we don’t and the colors and everything are not perceived as animals do so it’s random and perhaps eye searing but again it’s not for us. Xenofictiony, kind of?

The first thing to come to mind is Conway’s Game of Life but that’s because I don’t understand computers. I feel like I was more tech savvy as a babby than I am now but then again we’re grading on a curve here

This is why I ask about the relaxing thing

[theood]

Dentist made me feel really bad and felt like I was getting a bad score in going to the dentist and then when he was lecturing me he made me feel really bad and like I didn't ever take care of my teeth and I made the big mistake of eating I had food "all in and over my teeth" and he was just really rude and when I was saying sorry i had eaten like 30 minutes ago he was just still very rude and almost stopped his explanation bc I Didn't Care and Wasn't Getting the point that you Don't Do That before the dentist and I should've brushed so. Feeling great like I know he said he cares about me as a patient but I wasn't feeling it then

[dubiousculturalartifact]

do you ever think about how darcy's perspective of the visit to rosings is just... a completely wild time. so like. he and his favourite cousin goes to visit with his weird aunt, and ends up running into this hot girl, that he's really kinda increasingly into? she's staying in the area for a while with her bestie. so like. he was expecting a boring social obligation visit & getting pressure into marrying his other, less favourite cousin. instead, he watches the hot girl hold her own with his aunt in conversation. she banters with him over the pianoforte and they have a Moment���. he keeps going over to the house she's staying at, just to awkwardly chill there, even though he doesn't like the other people there. has a whole conversation with her about how she wouldn't mind living far away from family, as long as she could afford the travel. he extends his visit so he can keep seeing her. when he runs into her on a walk, she makes a point of detailing the exact route she prefers to take while out walking, clearly encouraging him to join her, so he does. he has a really nice time on these walks, they spend a lot of time in companionable silence, but he manages to flirt a little by implying some stuff about the future & what their married life could be like, and they have some conversations about that. and sure, she has some family baggage, but none of them are around so it's a lot easier to ignore, y'know? so eventually he just can't take it anymore, and he shoots his shot. she clearly values honesty so he explains his scruples as well, but he thinks she's been dropping some favourable signals, so he's got a good chance, right?

and then not only she turns him down she ROASTS THE FUCK OUT OF HIM. she insults him. she insults his honour as a gentleman. she flips the fuck out about... oh yeah crap the sister thing, turns out his cousin blabbed, and then I'M SORRY YOU SAID WHAT? ABOUT WICKHAM? THIS IS ABOUT FUCKING WICKHAM, MY FUCKING NEMESIS? HE FUCKING SAID WHAT ABOUT.... OH MY GOD. oh fuck. I've fucked up so badly I need to reevaluate my entire life & risk sending a letter to an unmarried woman who hates my guts, just so i can explain shit. fuck.

[seventh-district]

CW: mention of death and health issues (but it’s in a relatively positive light, for once!)

[entity56]

Tips for Cluster B Anger

~ coming from someone who has BPD and a psychology special interest Have you been feeling like your anger is completely uncontrollable and all encompassing? Do you feel like your anger controls you more than you control it? Me too! But here are some things I've found to be helpful: - Taking notes. Write down triggers for what causes your anger episodes (as well as other episodes e.g sadness or paranoia) once you come down from it and start looking for a pattern. Not only will this help you to slow down and self reflect, you can begin to either avoid those triggers or find ways to regulate the effects. - SLOW DOWN. If something is making you want to hurt someone else or yourself, slow the FUCK down. Push against the grain, step back and let yourself have a good cry or scream into a pillow. Do whatever you can to (healthily) process the emotions, no matter how long it takes, before making major decisions. - Avoid self harm, substances or unhealthy habits like disordered eating or emotional self harm. It's so tempting, believe me, but it will only serve to make things worse. You might feel like you want it to get worse now, but in the future, you WILL regret it. If you start feeling these urges, refer to the urge surfing diagram below this. - Get outside advice. Think you're splitting but you can't tell? Run the situation by a close friend or loved one and see how they feel about it. Try to relay it with as little bias as possible and see if they agree with the decision you're about to make or if you perhaps need to reevaluate some things. - Take care of your heart. I know this is cliche, but a good sleep schedule, hearty food consumption habits, hydration, exercise routine and mental health care go a long way in helping you succeed in the above tips. You are struggling with an illness, and ill people need as much care as possible. Become your own parent. This works for anger in all Cluster B personality disorders, as well as with autism spectrum disorders! Urge surfing:

[enigmaris]

Reading a lot of DPxDC fics lately, heres my take on the Danny is Damian's twin AU:

Danny was injured to near death and left for dead by the League as a young boy. Ra's only wanted one heir and Danny was less bloodthirsty than Damian, so it was decided that Danny had to go.

Danny is found and taken to a hospital in Illinois, barely alive. He is saved and wakes up with basically no memories of where he was from and speaking a rare dialect of arabic that none of the cops investigating his case can identify. What words Danny does know in english are concerning so the cops figure Danny was being held by some sort of murder, death cult.

The investigation runs cold and Danny is sent to foster care once his injuries heal. He is then adopted by the fentons and moves to Amity Park. As he grows the only clear memories he has of his past is another boy his age who he felt safe with. He knows the other boy is important to him but not why. He cant even really remember his face, certainly not his name. Danny always felt shitty that he couldnt remember the other boy because if he did, then the cops would have rescued him from the murder death cult too. Instead the other boy is presumably there and getting hurt all the time like Danny was.

Danny gets his powers like normal at 14 and decides that now that he has superpowers he absolutely has to save that other boy. Sam and Tucker help him gather clues, he starts to remember a bit more. He remembers the word ahki and realizes that the other boy is his brother!! Which just really enhances Dannys need to save him from the murder death cult. Eventually Tucker finds a picture of Damian Wayne and Danny is like thats him. Thats my brother.

Wait.

Bruce Wayne is his brothers dad???

Bruce Wayne is a rich fruitloop like Vlad obviously, so he is probably a member of the murder cult. Danny has to rescue his brother from the illuminati.

Cue Sam going to a socialite dinner in gotham much to her parents delight. Getting close to Damian by talking about animal rights, slipping him some sleeping pills in his vegan food. Tucker hacking into the gala and causing a commotion. Danny lugging an unconscious Damian out of the Gala and into the GAV ( no, his parents dont know why he borrowed the car or where he is).

Damian wakes up and immediately tries to attack Danny thinking hes a clone. Danny is like woah shit no its me! Its your brother. Damian is like Danyal is dead. Danny is like obviously not. Now chill out im rescuing you from the cult.

Damian, who has been secrectly mourning his twin for years, has never heard anyone call the League of Assassins a cult. He has to reevaluate a lot of things while Danny drives the GAV out of Gotham as fast as he can. Danny explains his whole backstory and how he is sorry he didnt come to save Damian earlier, his memories were gone but he had never forgotten how important Damian was to him. Damian doesnt do emotions on a good day and is unable to handle that like a normal person.

"Father isnt part of the cult, Danyal."

"Hes a billionaire from Gotham, of course he is!"

Damian who has fought many rich people from gotham, all of whom were evil, tries to find an explanation that isnt 'our dad is batman'. Danny isnt listening to any of it, promising Damian that he will be safe from the murder cult in Amity.

Damian eventually gets out that their mother was in the cult and their father didn't know about them. Danny pulls the GAV over and looks at Damian.

"Did i just kidnap you for no reason?"

"It was a kind gesture at least Danyal."

"Fuck. I just kidnapped bruce wayne's kid in the middle of a gala, am i super villain now?"

"Not if you take me home. Father will understand Danyal."

"I dont want to go to jail!"

Damian gives Danny the address to Wayne Manor and Danny drives to Bristol.

When they walk inside Damian now has to explain the whole 'had a dead brother i never told you about' thing to a less than amused batfam.

Danny introduces himself to Bruce and says that he has an adopted family back in illinois, but that he would be happy to get to know Bruce, also sorry about the kidnapping i dont normally do that i thought you were part of the illumimati and i had to rescue my brother.

Bruce just hopes this kid is normal.

(Hint: he's not)

[catscidr]

Hiii I just found your acc and really like your stuff! Can I pls request lazy morning sex with Jing Yuan (and any character you think might fit this prompt) I just looked and there is not one fic like this of this man when he's like... right there. He's like so perfect for this scenario. Thank you sm and have a great day/night! <3

i just finished writing this its 3am i think i blacked out. everybody give it up for my man jing yuan i need himSO BAAAAD AAHHH i hope u like this nonnie ♡♡ cw: nsfw, mdni. semi-clothed sx, soft dom jy, clt stimulation, size kink if you squint, praise, pet names, slight overstimulation, cuddling n fucking face-to-face, riding, creampie. /not proofread ill do that in the morning. dies/ includes: fem reader, jing yuan, fu xuan mentionned wc: 3,2k

You loved and hated waking up next to Jing Yuan in the morning. On one hand, the rhythm of his beating heart lulls you to sleep, and he makes for a wonderful personal heater; but on the other... he’s a little too comfortable. So much so that every time you sleep with him, you, without fail, end up being late for work. That, or you barely make it in time. At times you would point your finger at him and accuse him of being a wholesome, sleepy version of an incubus, and he would laugh in that smooth, baritone voice of his. 

Regardless. 

This morning was one of those mornings, of course. Jing Yuan came back home for the first time in two weeks the night before- being the general of the Luofu means that he would occasionally have to leave for an unknown amount of time to take care of business. Every time he had to leave, you’d linger around him a little longer than usual, wrap your arms around him tighter than you normally would and let your lips linger on his cheek long enough for the sun to rise completely. 

He’d come back so late last night that you were already sleeping in your shared bed, legs haphazardly thrown over the bed sheets in a poor attempt to regulate your body temperature. The button-up shirt you wore made his heart lunge in his throat in the best way, but the last thing he wanted was to wake you. So, he’d carefully remove his armored uniform, take his shirt off and slip into the bed with you with nothing but his briefs on, and pull you into his chest. You had unconsciously nuzzled closer to him, your body craving the warmth of his body you had missed oh so dearly. 

Which explained the situation you were now in. The dilemma you found yourself stuck in. Jing Yuan was back; you had your face mere millimeters away from his plush chest, his arms held you tight against him, and his soft snores almost convinced you to fall back asleep. Keyword; almost. 

As much as you loved him you knew that he’d be here once you came back from work, so with as much resolve as you could muster, you try wriggling your way out of his grip. With him being as big as he was, though, it didn’t surprise you when he tightened his hold on you, treating you as if you were his plushie threatening to fall off his bed and he was a child.

You let out a quiet oof from his strong grip and reevaluate your options. There weren’t many options, but at least you had choices; either you wake him up, convince him to let you go and then get to work early enough that you don’t risk getting written up again, or you let him hold you and... arrive at work late. Again. Which was the last thing you wanted, given the fact that your boss had specifically told you that she couldn’t allow you to miss another meeting. 

Step one was to summon the ability to be even more stubborn than your lover. Step two is to carefully wriggle your arms up, high enough that you can move your hands and you can use them to your advantage against the beast. It took you some time, given the fact that they were stuck between his and your body, but you succeeded, nonetheless. And you only got one displeased grunt from the sleeping general in response. 

As you’re about to proceed with step three, Jing Yuan cracks an eye open and buries his head into the crook of your neck while curling into you, effectively trapping you between his plush muscles and the duvet. 

Could have gone better. 

“Jing Yuan,” you huff, your voice sounding more like a whine than anything. The general doesn’t respond, leading you to believe he fell asleep again, but his morning voice graces your ears before you have the time to curse him out. “Mhm, I’m up,” he hums, pressing a lazy kiss to your neck in a false apology. 

You wriggle in response, grunting from the sheer effort. One of the downsides that came with cuddling with Jing Yuan was the way he could keep you right there with him as long as he wanted, curse his strength. 

Seeing as he wasn’t going to budge, you decide that two can play that game. You stare into his silky mop of silver hair, pondering whether you should negotiate your freedom or if you should play dirty- but where's the fun in trying to talk your way out of this predicament? You bring a hand up to gently brush his bangs away from his face. He makes a soft noise of contentment at the feeling of your fingers delicately brushing against his face and, before he can grow too comfortable, you lean in and bite his cheek. 

The general makes a noise of surprise, grunting as he pulls away from you to narrow his eyes at his perpetrator. His pout morphs into a lazy smile as he holds your glare. “If you wanted to play you could have just said so, sweetheart,” he says lowly, moving his free hand from your back to letting it rest lazily on your hips, thumb rubbing gentle circles on the exposed skin. 

You stick your tongue out at him stubbornly, “Not now, I have to get up.” Unfazed by your headstrong attitude, Jing Yuan shifts one of his legs to come between yours- his strong thigh sandwiched between your soft ones. A surprised gasp leaves your lips in response to the smooth way he molds his body to yours, but you refuse to allow yourself to be swayed by him. 

“Aeons- ‘Yuan please,” you huff quietly, but he notices the way your voice catches in your throat. His golden eyes briefly shine with what could only be described as mischief and, with a smooth motion, Jing Yuan grabs ahold of your shoulder and swivels you around so that your back is against his chest. A surprised oof rips from your throat as you bounce lightly on the bed from the impact- he lowers his face to yours, a rich, deep chuckle echoing in your ears as your resolve begins to melt away. 

Taking advantage of the new position, Jing Yuan throws a leg over yours to trap you in and, in turn, grinds his growing bulge against your ass. If he wasn’t hard at the sight of your face in the morning when he first woke up, he sure was now; while he slowly ruts against you, he allows his hands to wander down to the hem of your shirt. 

You stifle a moan as the metaphorical dam in your head begins to crumble apart. Sure, you would see him when you would get back home later, but you were with him now. Laying here with your lover, safe and comfortable in his arms while his clothed erection lazily thrusts up into your heat. 

As you let out needy whines that you aren’t even aware you’re voicing, Jing Yuan brings his lips closer to your ear. “Five more minutes?” he asks with a knowing smile, his own breath becoming more and more rugged the more he rubs up against you. Gods, he could feel you throbbing through his sweatpants and your panties. 

You swallow thickly and whine in response, your head already fogging up with desire. Going a whole two weeks without sex wasn’t particularly hard; you had your trusty toy with you and your hands if it happened to run out of battery and you were that desperate. But you weren’t- and during these past two weeks you had felt just fine, totally not pent up or even the slightest bit sexually frustrated. Your job had kept you busy, but when you’re stuck in Jing Yuan’s arms after not feeling him for so long, after not feeling his cock twitching inside you, you felt like something snapped inside you.

Distantly, you think about how pathetic this must look for him; only a few lingering touches and his hips pressing up against yours from the back and that’s all it takes for you to drench your panties. But really, you couldn’t care less. You knew he was just as pent up as you were. 

You bring one of your hands down to fumble with the hem of your panties to quickly take them off, down your legs. Hearing Jing Yuan’s hoarse breathing in your ears only made you even more eager to feel his skin right up against yours. Maybe part of the reason why you were so incredibly turned on was because of how tired you still felt, but either way, you needed him. And he needed you just as badly. 

The general’s hands leave you temporarily to slide his sweatpants down to his thighs, low enough for his cock to leave its confines. Precum builds at the tip, swollen and pulsing with the need to bury itself inside you. He sighs, one of his hands coming up to stroke his length, thumb sliding over the slit every time his fist comes up. You whine at the loss of his hands on you and reach back to take his hand, bringing it between your legs to rub your clit. He laughs at your impatience, shifting his weight on his other arm to lean over you properly. 

“Someone’s impatient and greedy,” he goads. “I thought you wanted to get to work, darling,” he purrs in your ear, his middle and ring finger coming together to tease your bud, riling you up further and making a mess between your legs. A strained fuck leaves your lips as you back your ass up into him, his hard cock tucked between your thighs, rubbing into your arousal. “Please just-” a whimper interrupts you as Jing Yuan increases the pace of his fingers, “-inside. I-I need to feel you,” you huff, feeling too empty. He considers teasing you some more, listening to the wet sounds of your pussy bounce off the walls of your shared bedroom, but his own patience was also waning thin. 

A quiet noise of protest leaves you when the man takes his hand away from your bud. He brings his fingers up to his lips to lick your slick off of them, moaning at the taste. Your thighs clench in response, jerking the general’s cock unintentionally. 

“Fuck,” he growls into your ear, hurriedly taking his length into his hand to guide it into your soaking wet cunt. Your mouth hangs open when you feel his tip slip between your lips, needy noises slipping from your mouth. Inch after inch he sinks into you, slowly letting you accommodate to his girth. He finally bottoms out, stretching your hole as you keen and whine from the satisfaction of feeling so full. 

He waits a few beats to allow you to get used to him, your hoarse breathing matching his own. When he feels you clamping down on him less, he starts to thrust- pulling out slowly and thrusting back in sharply. You moan aloud, mouth agape as his cock bullies your spongy walls relentlessly. 

“Jing Yua-aan,” you whimper, hands gripping onto his forearms weakly, nails forming crescent shapes into his skin. He reduces you to a sleepy, blabbering, moaning mess as the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes in the bedroom. With one hand splayed across your lower tummy, he presses down, making you arch your back into him from the sudden added pressure and pleasure. 

“Y’ like that? You missed me, huh?” he taunts, though his own voice trails off into a needy moan the more he feels the drag of your walls along his cock. “I know I’ve- fuck, m-missed you,” Jing Yuan stutters, thrusts becoming increasingly sloppy as he feels a familiar coil form in his abdomen. His thigh muscles clench as he wills away his orgasm, needing to feel you all around him for a bit longer. 

Unable to respond you simply nod dumbly, the words leaving your brain as it’s reduced to mush. Your lover hums, a smirk stretching his lips, “Yeah?” He brings his face closer to yours, your breaths tangling with each other before he smashes his lips against yours, the angle awkward and uncomfortable. But you don’t care- the added stimulation makes you melt as you crane your head back to kiss him properly, your lips occasionally leaving his from the force of his thrusts. 

Jing Yuan moans into your mouth and breaks the kiss. He looks at you with pure lust swirling in his golden eyes, your face sinful and needy. An idea pops up in the general’s mind and he smiles down at you, pressing one last chaste kiss to the corner of your mouth. 

“Ah, w-what are you-” you slur, your sentence interrupted by the general manhandling you to switch positions. He kicks the sheets off completely and places both of his large hands on your waist, gripping you firmly as he lays on his back, placing you on top him. His cock slips out of your walls with a wet shlick and you whine at the feeling of being so suddenly empty, twisting your body so that your thighs straddle his hips. Jing Yuan looks up at you with a small, cat-like smirk and your breath catches in your throat. 

His silky hair splayed out on the pillows beneath him, cheeks flushed, and eyes piercing into yours made your knees buckle and you suddenly froze in your movements. Feeling your pussy throb against him, Jing Yuan chuckles heartily, one of his hands leaving your waist to stroke his hard cock, your slick dripping down on him. 

“Lift your hips up and sit on my cock, darling,” he orders softly, a stark contrast to the way he looks at you- with pure, unfiltered lust and adoration. Your body moves automatically as you obey, hovering your tight pussy over his swollen tip, and lower yourself down. Your mouth opens in a silent moan, and you feel his girth stretching you out again as you begin to bounce on his hard cock. 

“Yeahh just like that,” he hums, the hand that held his length moving up to rest on your stomach, thumb jutting out to rub tight circles over your sensitive clit. You squeak in surprise, your body jolting forward, and place your hands over his plush chest for balance. “Feels good, baby? Feel how deep my cock is?” 

A moan leaves his kiss-bitten lips and you swear you physically felt yourself get pushed closer to your nearing orgasm, the noises leaving his lips amplifying your pleasure tenfold. “Taking me so well, look at that pretty pussy,” he coos, and you keen as his half-lidded eyes burn into yours. He feels your walls clench in response to the praise and flashes you a dangerous smirk; he places his feet flat on the bed and tightens his grip on your waist to buck his hips up, making you topple over him. Your gaze is unfocused and blurry as you look down at him, heavy breaths leaving your lips, tears threatening to roll down your rosy cheeks from the pace he set. 

“And look at you,” he whispers lovingly under his breath. Jing Yuan throws his head back deeper into the pillows, keeping his eyes on you as he watches you lose yourself to the addicting feeling of his cock bullying your sopping cunt. “Y-Yuan,” you whine, your climax threatening to rip through you as you bite your lip to stifle your needy moans. He tuts, leaning up to bite your lip to pull you out of your pleasure-filled daze. 

“Pay attention to me darling. Thaat’s it, let 'em out for me.” The general huffs, brows furrowing in concentration to focus on the feeling of your warm walls surrounding him, sucking him in endlessly. His thumb presses down onto your clit roughly to bring you closer to your orgasm; you whimper in turn, a chorus of oh fuck and please’s leaving your puffy lips. “I-I’m so close,” you whine, eyelids fluttering shut as you feel your control leaving your body, the tight coil of your orgasm threatening to snap. 

Jing Yuan groans, hips bucking up into you, heavy balls slapping against your ass as he keeps up the pace, persistent. “Come on, give it to me, pretty girl.” He coos, voice breaking into a whine, close to climaxing himself. His thrusts become sloppier, and he bites his bottom lip to stifle a string of hearty, needy moans. 

His hips still up into you as he cums, thick ropes of his seed painting your walls white. Jing Yuan’s thumb flicks your puffy clit until you climax as well, your cunt milking his sensitive cock. You whimper, feeling your clit buzz with overstimulation as he keeps rubbing it with purpose. “S-Stop, stooop,” you cry, your eyes burning with tears as the dull pain turns into pleasure, “Aeons you’re so tight.” Your lover slows down his movements, easing the tension in his muscles, until he stops circling your clit and gently places both of his hands on your waist. His hands slide up and down your sweaty skin, soothing the bruises that will inevitably form.

Your body slumps, exhausted and utterly spent, arms caging him as you rest your face in the crook of his neck. You both feel sticky and sweaty, but the warmth you shared made up for the need to jump in the shower to wash yourselves off. Jing Yuan shifts his hips so that his softening cock slips out of you; he inhales sharply, his cock still sensitive. 

“I missed you,” you mumble quietly, voice muffled from the way you're pressed into him and the pillows and press a chaste kiss to his neck. “Yeah? I never would have guessed,” the general chuckles, arms coming up to hug you tightly, one hand placed behind your head to cradle you close to him. You hit him with a huff but then sigh, content. 

“Mmh, but I missed you too, darling,” Jing Yuan replies softly. He holds you as your eyes droop, exhaustion taking ahold of your tired body. His own eyelids droop as he listens to your soft heartbeat, and soon enough, you’re both sleeping, legs tangled together while Jing Yuan’s strong arms keep you laid atop of him. 

⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝

You’re not sure what time it is when you wake up, but you hear a phone ringing loudly in your ear, jolting you away from your peaceful dreams. You don’t recognize the tune, and as you’re about to wriggle your way out of the dozing general’s arms, he swings one arm over to the nightstand next to your bed and answers it without looking at the caller ID. “Jing Yuan speaking,” he says in a hoarse voice, eyes still closed. 

Even without his phone on speaker you could make out a very loud, very shrill voice from the other side of the line, yelling out two hours late, a single mission and get your ass over here. Jing Yuan doesn’t react, the same sleepy, cat-like smile on his face as he listens to the person rant. They eventually let up and hang up, saying something you couldn’t quite catch. Your lover haphazardly tosses his phone somewhere on the bed and loops his arm back around you, nuzzling into your neck. 

“Who was that?” you ask, voice cracking from how much you abused your vocal cords (apparently) two hours ago. He scoffs, amused, and pulls away just enough to speak clearly. 

“Lady Fu Xuan,” he says slyly. “I should get dressed before she decides to read into my divination and sees things she probably shouldn’t.”

[wh1msic4lwasab1]

𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞 ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

synopsis: you get arrested and sent to the fortress of meropide after being oblivious to a Fontainian crime, so your boyfriend Nuevi gets you out by striking a deal with the Duke, Wriothesley ;)

tags: threesome, double penetration, semi-public, vulgar, explicit

wrd cnt: 500+

a/n: repost/rewrite from first acc!

You couldn't believe the circumstances you were in, who knew Fontaine had some obscure rules with loans? One overdue day and you'd have rather get strucken by a loan shark than be sitting in the Fortress of Meropide right now.

You did get one call though, and of course the most sensible person to contact right now was the Ludex, who just so happened to be your partner. He could surely get you out of here, if anyone.

It was almost a whole hour wait, as Neuvillette was in the middle of a trial, but left as urgently as he could to come get you. That wasn't the only obstacle, the most difficult was the Duke.

"I'm sorry Neuvillette, I can't bend the rules for you" the brown haired man stammered on, "as much as l've done it before...this one's out of my control. She's in the files now." He explains. "I could try but it's too risky".

You heard back and forth for some time.

After what seemed to be hours of negotiations, it seemed your boyfriend ran out of all his other ideas.

"If it's really this hard" Neuvillette said, putting a firm grasp on your thigh, pulling it open slightly, "I don't mind...sharing some of the difficulties with you, Wriothesley. You've always been one for risks."

You felt your face burn in a deep pink hue, was he really about to whore you out? In this cell?

"Wouldn't be the worst thing to happen..." You thought in your head.

"Mr Wriothesley, there must be a way we can figure this out?" You plead. Going along with your partner.

"You two...you're quite forward huh? Do I follow you clearly?" He asked, standing from his chair to approach you two while loosening his tie.

It was exactly clear, and Wriothesley was exactly right.

"This place is quite uncomfortable, I can't believe you'd subdue her to this, Duke."

"Well I'm not the one who built it you know, I just run the place."

"Well honestly we need to reevaluate, seems all too gauche." Neuvillette admitted, complaining about the bars he was pressed up against.

"S-slow down- fuck..." You breathe out, barely managing to keep your eyes open while the two men bicker while deep inside you, all too casual in such a risqué act. Your back was pressed up against Neuvi, resting your hands on his arms which held you up, cupping your ass, while Wrio held your legs up, pressing closely to your front while they both put their cocks in your wet hole.

"Aww...getting tired? I can assure you it's better than staying in here my dear" Wrio says, gripping your legs tighter as he smirks down at you "If you were to stay any longer, I'd be real hard for me to ignore you now after this..."

You hear Neuvillette scoff at his flirty remark, "treading dangerous waters now Duke, be careful" he said, a slightly threatening tone.

"Lighten up...just making some conversation." He says annoyed, tilting his head in curiosity at your face, shifting down to whisper close to you, pressing your legs against him closer in turn.

"What's your name sweetheart?" He asks. His lips brushing against your cheek.

Out of breath, you mutter it out for him, almost unnoticed over the sound of your sticky cum soaked cunt and his lower stomach slapping together. Your moans bounced off the walls in the cold dark room. You wondered if anyone could hear you.

If anyone was listening to you mewl and cry in pleasure over getting stuffed full of cock.

"Fuck...you're so tight, Y/n..." He grunts out, fucking you even harder now.

"You're being so good my love" Neuvillette speaks into your other ear, "I'm sure we'll get you out of here now" he assures, caressing your waist with his thumb as he holds you up, his cock slowly hitting the gummy spot in your pussy, completely opposite of Wrios animalistic thrusts. "Right, Wriothesley?"

"Fuck- you feel so.... Huh? Oh yeah just- don't worry hun...I'll..." Wriothesley rambles incoherently, drunk on your pussy.

whimsic4alwasab1 ™ - do not copy, translate, modify, or claim any of my work as your own.

[xyriath]

but seriously if you are at all blogging about the i/p conflict you NEED to read that standing together article from that post i just reblogged. please. please please please please please. these are the people who are actually doing something about freeing palestine and have been for years. And here's the thing:

IF YOU WANT PEACE IN ISRAEL, IN PALESTINE, THESE ARE THE PEOPLE IT'S GOING TO COME FROM.

Because yeah. The way this site is spreading around uncritical posts is a huge issue (and a reason I haven't been around since October). Standing Together is doing a hell of a lot more than blogging about it. They're on the ground putting in the work. Nine days before the October 7 attack, they were in Tel Aviv publicly protesting about the systematic oppression of Arabs (not just Palestinians) in Israel.

"The global left has to be synced with what we need." Trust me, the right is. Boy HOWDY is the right synced. I have gotten more support about my Judaism from the far right than the left and it's??? kinda fucked up??? Someone who worked for Pat Robertson should not feel safer than someone dedicated to activism, but here we are. I can feel how easy it would be to be radicalized towards the right, and I'm actively fighting against it. Now imagine that multiplied by millions of people, plenty of whom don't have the same desire to do so, or feel like they don't have the luxury of safety to do so.

Seeing Hamas being portrayed as sympathetic and talked about like they had a right to commit all of the atrocities that they have is making me lose my MIND. They're a group run by corrupt billionaires who actively started this conflict with the intent of silencing the Palestinian people who have been protesting their tyranny. They have been siphoning money from Palestinians for years and this entire attack is them deliberately throwing Palestinians into the path of slaughter to distract from that fact, the same way that Netanyahu absolutely took advantage of the threat and tragedy to try and get himself off the hook for his own corruption.

Also check out the google doc linked in the article. It's not just a good way to learn how to communicate, but a very good resource for finding out if something you're sharing is worthwhile. In fact, it does a really god job of breaking down why I've felt so uncomfortable about a bunch of the posts on my dash. Some excerpts:

This got way longer than I had intended, but hopefully does its job. Go read the article and, yes, if you need to, reevaluate your activism. Because if it's not what people involved actually want or need, then it's just for you. And that's kinda fucked up.

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

A gnawing sense of foreboding creeps up on Steve as they head to Eddie’s trailer, armed with weapons.

He tries to outrun it through action: ensuring he’s the first one to go through the Gate; jumping back and forth between The Upside Down and their world whenever someone forgets something, “It’s okay, I’ve got it!”; triple checking that the cables for Eddie’s amps are long enough; searching for the slightest thing than seizing upon it with an enthusiasm bordering on desperate, “Hey, we could use this, right? Better take it, just in case.”

But that only works for so long, and then Steve’s just standing in Eddie’s kitchen, the real one, staring blankly at the cupboards, all out of distractions.

Out of time.

He hears a grunt of exertion behind him, then an unsteady landing, a muffled curse. Eddie.

“Jesus Christ, Steve. Wanted to fit your aerobics routine in?”

He’s teasing, so light-hearted despite it all; Steve can’t stand it.

Keeps his back turned, gut twisting, opening the cupboards then slamming them shut, thump, thump. He doesn’t know what he’s looking for. He never has.

“Uh, so I was thinking,” Eddie continues, like Steve’s not doing anything weird, “that I could stretch out the, um, the song? My playing? Could buy you some more time, anyway.”

“Sure, great,” Steve says shortly.

He thinks—with a numb kind of calm—that he’s going to be sick.

He gets to the bathroom, tries to shut the door, but his grip slips on the handle.

Turns on the faucet, scoops cold water from his hands into his mouth, and it helps until it doesn’t, until he’s almost choking on it, and he’s been here before, the feeling familiar: a shadow looming over him, just waiting, waiting, and he knows it’ll pass, it always does, but he can’t stop thinking of Robin, it might not work out for us this time, and what if, what if—

He can hear Eddie knocking on the doorframe, just out of view—as if he’d seen Steve’s failed attempt at shutting the door and wanted to respect it.

“Hey, man, you okay?” Then Eddie mutters to himself, “Obviously not, get a fucking clue.”

Steve’s laugh is strangled but real. He wipes his mouth dry and shuts off the water.

“You don’t need to talk to a wall, dude,” he says.

And Eddie steps into view, leans against the open door. His eyes flicker across Steve’s face, and Steve doesn’t want to know what he’s noticed, so when Eddie opens his mouth hesitantly, he speaks first.

“We should—they’re gonna wonder where we are.”

Eddie pauses on the verge of speech; Steve watches him reevaluate whatever he was going to say.

“Well,” Eddie says, gesturing to the bathroom, matter-of-fact, “we could be peeing.”

Steve manages a chuckle. “You’re an idiot.”

Eddie grins like he’s saying yup, that’s me, like he’s won a prize.

Steve has seen him wear something close to that expression not even an hour ago: when the kids had started a line to use the bathroom in the RV, and Eddie had snorted, giggled with a childish kind of delight, “You—ha! You all look like you’re on a field trip,” before joining the line himself—calling out that he hoped their plan accounted for bathroom breaks because, “There’s no way I’m pissing in the alternate dimension,” and that had made Nancy break, laughing in a way Steve was certain he hadn’t heard since ‘83.

Eddie steps into the room and shuts the door quietly. Steve gets why: his breathing’s still all wrong, and if Dustin happened to see him, he doesn’t think he’d ever forgive himself.

“Sorry.” Steve sucks in a breath, tries to hold it. Loses it in an exhale that shudders at the edges. He speaks through the tail end of it, hoping that’s enough to conceal the sound, “Gimme, like, two minutes.”

“Make it ten,” Eddie says.

The way he says it makes it seem like it’s already a done deal; he must’ve spoken to Robin and Nancy before he tumbled through the Gate.

Despite himself, Steve feels a wave of relief: just for a little while, he has time; it overpowers the shame, leaves him sinking down to sit on the closed toilet seat.

He closes his eyes, just breathes. In… out… in…

He doesn’t realise that Eddie’s sitting down, too, until he hears the clunk of his boots, the rustle of clothing as he moves.

“Sorry,” Steve says again, and it annoyingly still comes out a little shaky, like he’s in the pool and he’s left it too long to snatch a breath. “You can go back, man, I’ll… I’ll be right there.”

He opens his eyes to see Eddie shaking his head, sat with his back against the bathtub.

“Stop apologising,” Eddie says, and then it’s as if the seriousness of it is too much for him, because he adds, with a self-deprecating smile that Steve hates, “I get it. You’re walking into the dragon’s lair, I’m just putting on a concert.”

“Don’t,” Steve says, and he doesn’t intend for the word to come out as sharp as it does, but that doesn’t change the fact that he means it. He means it.

Eddie’s smile fades.

“Don’t,” Steve repeats, quieter. Not quite an apology.

Slowly, he moves off the toilet seat, until he’s sat next to Eddie. There’s just enough space that they don’t need to touch, but Steve presses his shoulder against Eddie’s anyway, like he can somehow pass on everything he means through that alone.

Eddie sighs, presses back for just a second. “Don’t what?” he asks. He sounds tired all of a sudden.

“Don’t—don’t joke like that,” Steve says. “Like you’re not—” He swallows. “Like it’s not dangerous.”

There’s a pause. Eddie reaches across and puts a hand on Steve’s knee. Squeezes briefly and pulls back; already Steve finds that he misses the warmth of him.

“Hey, don’t worry,” Eddie says. There’s no joke in this, not a trace. “I’m not gonna let anything happen to Dustin.” Another smile. Gentle. “Swear on his mother.”

I’m not worried about that, Steve wants to say, but of course that’s not true; he’s tried hard not to look at Dustin directly ever since they arrived at the trailer, because his throat would start to close up alarmingly whenever his gaze lingered, and he knows the kid’s doing that whole semi-aloof teenager thing lately, but a part of him still wants to hold him tight and never let go.

It’s more that the shape of Steve’s worry is different to what he thinks Eddie’s imagining, covers more than Dustin’s safety alone—that the cold dread in his stomach brings him back to the tunnels in ‘84; to clutching Dustin, who was so small, Steve desperately trying to shield him with his own body, thinking the kid’s thirteen, only thirteen, this isn’t fucking fair; and that if this had to end one way, all he could do was pray that he’d be the only one to…

And Steve hadn’t wanted to die, but he was suddenly facing it anyway, and Christ, looking back at it, that was crazy, the whole damn thing was crazy, but it all made a twisted kind of sense at the time.

Eddie must spot that his train of thought’s gone down a dark alley because he knocks their knees together, but he doesn’t say anything. Just breathes, slumped against the bathtub; it’s probably the first time he’s been still—truly still—in a long while.

He must be exhausted, Steve thinks.

The gnawing feeling digs in, grips his heart.

“I can hear you thinking,” Eddie says quietly. “Listen, Steve, I know I’m new to, uh… all of this shit, but I’m on it, okay? Got it all up in here,” he taps the side of his head, “trust me—”

That’s not what—I trust you, of fucking course I do, but—

“—no deviations, and—”

“Plans change,” Steve says, and he hears himself, the calm decisiveness, just get ready; Dustin’s scream carrying across the junkyard, Steve, abort, abort! “Just… just promise me.”

“Promise you?” Eddie murmurs.

Steve feels the words on his tongue, the weight of them. Don’t do anything stupid. 

He swallows them down—afraid suddenly that if he really puts a name to it, it’s going to happen.

Fuck it, he’s exhausted too, and for a long moment he evades speaking: gingerly rests his head on Eddie’s shoulder. Feels his body heat, the swell of his breathing.

Eddie doesn’t tense up, just lets him rest there. 

If I kissed you, Steve thinks, drained, would you stay?

He doesn’t say it. Instead he lifts his head and asks, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Eddie chuckles. They’re still so close, Steve can feel his amused sigh.

“Tomorrow? I’ve not really… like, hopefully I’m not in jail. Anything else is a bonus.”

“We’ll fix it,” Steve says fiercely. “Trust me.”

“Oh, I believe you,” Eddie says, grinning fondly, but he sounds genuine. “Shit, man, I think you could do anything.” He gestures outside. “Got the fucking dream team out there.”

“We solved a secret Russian code last summer.”

Eddie laughs. “Did you?” His eyes sparkle with mirth.

You’re beautiful.

“Gospel truth, I swear,” Steve says. He tries to stay light, but he makes the vow anyway. “I’ll tell you tomorrow.”

I have so much to tell you.

They stand up, and Steve doesn’t know who’s the first one to move—just that they both probably sensed the time dwindling.

And maybe it’s that, the inescapable thought that something’s coming to an end that does it. Steve doesn’t know for sure, just knows that his eyes are burning suddenly—mortifyingly—with tears. He looks up at the ceiling, hurriedly trying to push them back, but Eddie notices anyway.

“Steve, what is it?” he whispers, with a look of utter devastation.

Steve shakes his head. “Just being stupid,” he says, voice brittle, cutting himself off before he can say something ridiculous.

God, Eddie, let’s just stay here and grow old.

“You’re not stupid,” Eddie says, heartfelt—he stops just short of touching Steve; he clearly wants to help so badly, but he doesn’t know how.

Steve wants to tell him it’s fine. He doesn’t know either.

Maybe nothing can help this.

They leave for the Gate in unspoken agreement; at first Steve finds comfort in the sight of Eddie dangling on the rope, not quite in either world. Like every possibility is laid out before him.

I’ll tell you tomorrow.

But there’s a near imperceptible shift as Eddie keeps climbing, and Steve needs to look away, anything to avoid the pit in his stomach: the suspicion that the path’s already been chosen.

[zoloteh-volossya]

Some Thoughts on Minthara

A repeating theme of all of the Origin companions is that what they think they want at the beginning of the game is a result of their fucked up pasts and is ultimately bad for them. Shadowheart wants to be a DJ, but that cuts her off from the potential to grow beyond Shar and loss. Lae'zel wants to Ascend, which would obliterate her in her entirety. Karlach would rather die than go back to hell, but dying cuts off the potential continued life she may find thanks to that Infernal Forge. Astarion wants to Ascend, which locks him into a cycle of violence, power, and fear. Gale has two failures of goals - first to kill himself for Mystra's forgiveness, then to Ascend (which hollows him out of all the originally noble intentions he had going into it). Wyll wants to serve, no matter what the cost to himself - which would lead him to stay pacted to Mizora when freedom beckons.

All of these initial goals stem from the environments/abuses that the companions are coming from. And they're all understandable! But they're unhealthy and/or maladaptive, and so in order for every Origin companion to get to their best/happiest ending they need to change and grow away from what they initially thought they wanted due to the influence of their pasts and personal flaws.

Minthara, when we meet her under her own free will, has abandoned Lolth but not her attitudes. She seeks love, yes, but also seeks any sort of power she can get her hands on with a desperation borne of fear. She cares deeply for Karlach and Lae'zel and reluctantly for Astarion, Shart, and Gale, but is willing to enslave them all as she herself was enslaved if it makes her Top Dog. Her ideal ending is codependent evil power couple with you, controlling the brain - and I think that's her 'bad' ending, akin to Ascended Astarion or DJ Shart.

Basically, I think there’s two sides to her. There's the side that desires genuine connections and is willing to go to hell for Karlach even if unromanced... and the side that chases power even if it means doing things like enslaving Karlach. She wants purpose (per her dialogue upon leaving Moonrise), a home and friends (per her dialogue when leaving the party), and protection (per her dialogues with the player). I think if she was able to obtain those things through sources other than trying to conquer Menzoberranzan/the Sword Coast she might be able to express the former side of herself more.

We see a bit of that in her Karlach romance, where she throws aside all concerns of seeking power to go to hell for her girlfriend. She doesn't talk of conquering or ruling Avernus - her focus is purely on vengeance for Karlach. It's an interesting reevaluation of her priorities and also why I like her pairing with Karlach so much.

As a side character, she doesn't get a questline and arc like the Origin companions get. But I think that it is notable that her happiest ending seems to be staying in Baldur's Gate. In her epilogue dialogue with Origin!Lae'zel she confesses that she is not happy if she pursues reconquering Menzoberranzan, and harbors doubts about her ability to succeed.

Because ultimately - as Ascended Astarion shows - pursuing power and conquest does not actually make you happier or safer. It just means a life dominated by fear. Lolth's treatment of the drow - and thus the drow treatment of each other - has been compared by writers of canon D&D novels to an abusive relationship. And like so many other survivors of abuse, Minthy is out of the immediate situation but still carries that way of thinking worn into her psyche, like ruts in a road.

She’ll never be “nice” or even necessarily “good,” but I’d like to think that over time, in the right environment, she can leave behind most of the self destructive power seeking of the Lolthite mindset. Move on from the toxic patterns of her past, as the Origin companions get to do in game.

[subbyfoxelf]

today is an extremely bad day for the magic the gathering community.

if you don't play mtg, here's what you need to know: the most popular format by far is actually a fan-created format originally known as elder dragon highlander (edh), and later becoming enshrined as an official format under the name commander. despite its official recognition by wizards of the coast, the commander format was governed by an independent panel known as the rules committee. if my use of the term "was" sounds foreboding... it should.

on september 23rd, this independent rules committee announced the addition of four cards to the format's banned & restricted list. regardless of how you feel about these changes, they were aimed to do the one thing the rules committee cares about: keep the format fun & fair for all players. again, i must stress that this is their only motivation. that's something i'd like everyone to keep in mind before we move on to where we are today.

the rules committee was expecting the backlash to their decisions to be vitriolic. the cards they banned were popular among... a certain segment of players. and more importantly, they were cashcows for joyless collectors and the secondary market. the kinds of people who unironically refer to these little pieces of cardboard as "investments." and yeah, i'm being a little unfair here. i will acknowledge that. but i think it's pretty warranted considering what happened next.

what happened next were death threats. lots & lots of death threats. lots & lots of death threats, a disproportionate number of which were directed at the rules committee's only female member. yeah, shocking. ironically it turned out that she literally voted against the most unpopular changes to the banned & restricted list, not that she needs to have to make this entire thing reprehensible. but it's just... frustrating. all of it is very frustrating.

of course she isn't the only one who received these threats. the rest of the rules committee also received similar harassment, as did plenty of people who weren't even involved with this decision. it's just a very ugly moment for the community.

if you have ever considered sending someone actual, literal death threats over PIECES OF CARDBOARD, please reevaluate your entire life immediately.

and look, there are some extremely reasonable criticisms of the decision and how it was announced. i'm not denying that. and i will fully admit that i had a fairly positive view of the bans compared to the people who were angry. but regardless of how you feel about them, one thing is undeniable: they were made by people whose entire motivation is making the format more fun & fair. that was literally their only motivation. they were not beholden to shareholders or executives or any of the other machinery that makes Line Go Up. they just wanted the game to be as fun as possible.

today, wizards of the coast announced that the commander rules committee is officially handing over management of the format to wizards of the coast. a company who, ever since its aquisition by hasbro, has been nakedly motivated by profit above all else. a company who, even when it was more independent, would have ultimately had that motivation simply by virtue of being, you know, a company.

so tl;dr (too late), good job mtg community. you showed your entire ass to the world by harrassing people off of the internet over fucking pieces of cardboard, and now hasbro fully owns the game's most popular format. i hope you're fucking happy.

[steddieas-shegoes]

“Steve! We have to go!”

“I’m coming!” He yelled back to Robin, still searching through his closet for the pants he planned for their night out. “Where the hell are they?”

He was throwing things out of the way, not caring where they landed.

That was a problem for future Steve.

Current Steve needed to look as hot as possible.

His dry spell would be over tonight. He wasn’t leaving the bar until it was.

“Steve!”

“Robin! Where are the jeans?”

“What jeans?”

“The jeans! The ones that you told me to wear!”

“Didn’t you wear them yesterday?”

“No! I saved them!”

But Steve looked over at his laundry basket where his shirt was hanging over and the pair of jeans he was looking for peeked through.

He did wear them yesterday.

Fuck.

Okay, back up options.

The dark jeans that actually probably belonged to someone else and didn’t fit his thighs right? No, he needed to show off his thighs.

The light jeans he hadn’t worn in at least a year because there was a questionable stain that wouldn’t come out? Well, it would be dark in the bar, but no. He’d know about it.

The jeans he wore earlier that weren’t special but also weren’t bad? How would that help him get laid? No.

So he looked back the jeans in his hamper, ignoring Robin’s angry yelling from outside his door.

“Found them! Two minutes!”

He put on the jeans, hoping they didn’t smell or have any stains on them.

He ignored Robin as he threw on his coat that was hanging on the back of the couch and ignored the dull headache blossoming across his temples.

He opened the door and started to leave.

“You coming?” He asked over his shoulder, laughing when Robin smacked his arm as she passed by him.

“Don’t act like you’re waiting on me. I’ve been waiting on you for 30 minutes!”

They barely spoke on the way to the bar, Robin already sensing his headache and probably hoping the silence would make it better before the night got started.

She was amazing.

Steve couldn’t live without her.

But hopefully, they’d both find someone tonight. They needed it.

— — — —

Steve wasn’t having any luck. In fact, he’d never had worse luck.

His head was pounding at this point, music much louder than usual, more people crowded around his usual spot. The three men and one woman he’d danced with so far were fun, but not really his type. He’d been a little upset about seemingly wasting his time, but swallowed down the bitter feeling when he saw Robin dancing with the same girl for three songs, huge smile on her face.

At least one of them was getting something from tonight.

He stood at the far corner of the bar, trying to be out of the way as best he could. He needed to have some water, but he knew the bartender wouldn’t be pleased about getting pulled away from actual paying customers. He would wait for a lull and then get his attention.

It was a new guy, or at least one who didn’t normally work the shifts Steve was here. He was pretty.

There was no other way to describe him; long, curly hair, tattoos everywhere, wide Bambi eyes, tall and thin frame that still held hidden muscle. Steve’s dream, really.

Too bad his vision was getting blurry from the headache.

He had to reevaluate his plan and get water now before he went into full migraine territory. He couldn’t pull Robin away from her night just because he had to get home safely with a debilitating migraine.

He started trying to wave to the bartender anytime he looked over towards Steve’s end of the bar, but it didn’t work.

He tried yelling over the crowd and music, but it ended up making his head throb worse.

He finally managed to throw a napkin at him when he was standing a few feet away.

Not his finest moment, but he’d apologize when he had water.

The bartender looked over at him with raised brows.

“Need something?”

Steve couldn’t help the shame he felt about literally everything happening at that moment.

“Water please?”

The bartender nodded once and grabbed a cup to fill with ice and water. Steve felt some of his muscles relax knowing that he was going to be able to hydrate a little.

When he placed it in front of Steve, he slid a small cup of lemons with it.

“Squeeze a little in there. Helps with headaches.”

Steve knew he was looking at Eddie like the sun shone out of his ass. It would be embarrassing if he wasn’t so dreadfully miserable from the almost-migraine.

“Thanks.” Then he realized how shitty he must look if the bartender knew what was going on from just looking at him. “Wait. How’d you know?”

“My uncle gets them bad. He always gets pale and his eyes get bloodshot when one’s coming. You looked in the mirror lately?”

Steve shook his head, then winced at the way it made his head pound.

“You here with someone?”

“Yeah. She’s dancing.”

“Need me to have an announcement made for her?”

“No, let me drink this first.”

The bartender nodded, but Steve noticed he kept checking on him between serving other drinks to people.

Steve used more lemon than he probably should have, but he had a whole cup of it, and it couldn’t hurt to use more.

He rested his head against the wall next to him, wincing at the excessive vibrations from the music.

Normally, he loved that their hole in the wall bar got loud and fun once a week. Tonight, he wished he could be surrounded by silence.

He knew he was getting worse, but he didn’t want to bother Robin, who was still dancing with the same girl. She’d probably go home with her as long as Steve didn’t interrupt.

He felt a hand on his forehead, slowly brushing sweaty hair away. He tried opening his eyes, but even the small amount of light seeping through his eyelids was too much.

“Hey, I’m Eddie. I’m the bartender. My relief just walked in so I’m gonna help you to the back, okay?”

Steve could barely nod, the pain in his head throbbing down his jaw and neck. He reached his hand towards the voice and managed to make contact with Eddie. Hopefully, Eddie understood he was not gonna be able to do anything helpful at this point.

He felt an arm around his waist, guiding him away from the bar, but Steve still didn’t want to try opening his eyes. He had to trust Eddie.

He should’ve stayed home. He knew the dull pain he felt earlier would turn into worse, but he was so stuck on getting in bed with someone, he came anyway.

Eddie was walking slowly, keeping a firm grip on Steve so he wouldn’t jostle him around too much. Maybe if Steve weren’t getting his brain attacked by hammers and knives, he’d be trying to get Eddie in bed.

That thought came and went though as he realized how pitiful it was that a grown man couldn’t even walk himself home because he had a migraine.

Eddie would probably tell this incredibly embarrassing story to everyone here and laugh about it for weeks.

Steve was in and out of it for the next few minutes, unable to really focus on anything around him besides the warm hand on his hip. Despite being sweaty enough to wring water from his shirt, he still felt cold, shivers occasionally wracking his body.

This was a really bad one.

He was so stupid for being stuck in a bar for this.

His brain registered a door closing, then a fan turning on. It wasn’t completely silent, but the outside noise was a small echo in his brain compared to the banging it had been previously.

“Gonna set you on the couch in the corner and get some ice.”

Steve didn’t acknowledge him, but he let out the most ridiculous whimper when Eddie set him down on the couch, slowly laying him back so his whole body was flat. He heard the door open and close, but was so focused on how nice the air from the fan felt, he didn’t hear the door open and close when Eddie came back in.

“Alright, gonna put this on your head. Where’s it hurt?”

“Everywhere.”

Eddie sighed, but placed the bag of ice on his forehead to start.

“Get these often?”

Steve appreciated his very low voice, knowing that anything at a regular volume would probably be too much in this quiet room.

“Mhm.”

“I grabbed you more water too. Think you can have a sip?”

“Mm. No.”

He heard Eddie laughing quietly, but he couldn’t smile back at him.

“You live close?”

“Mhm. Mile.”

“I live closer.”

“Hm?”

“Welcome to my humble abode. I own the bar, work at the bar, and live at the bar. Technically this is the staff office, but upstairs is my bedroom, kitchen, and bathroom. If you think you can handle the stairs, you can sleep in my bed and I’ll take the couch. I’ll let your friend know you’re here too if you give me a name.”

“Steve.”

“Your friend’s name is Steve?”

“No. Mine.”

“Okay, what’s your friend’s name, Steve?”

“Robin.”

He tried opening his eyes so he could see his surroundings, but they were so heavy. Leave it to Steve to end up suffering with the worst migraine he’s had all year at a bar with a hot bartender taking care of him and he can’t even open his eyes to fully appreciate it.

He distantly heard the door again, but must’ve fallen asleep for a bit because the next thing he knew, he felt hands on his face.

“You’re sure he can stay here?”

“Robs?”

“Steve. You idiot. You should’ve told me it was getting worse.”

She was whispering, but she was angry with him and he knew she would be yelling if she was a worse friend.

“Sorry.”

“Eddie’s gonna handle it. I’m gonna take Chrissy home. You call me as soon as you’re up, got it? I’ll send the cops here to break down the doors if I don’t hear by lunch time tomorrow.”

“Got it.”

He was gonna forget, but hopefully Eddie would remind him.

When he had bad migraines, he pretty much forget everything he did or said. None of the doctors could explain it. He’d had scans done, and there were no signs of memory diseases, so it was just a part of the trauma from multiple concussions.

He could hear Robin telling Eddie the same thing. If he could make his face work, he’d probably smile.

He drifted again, but he could hear Robin still talking to Eddie as he did.

The next time he was fully aware, he was in a bed. The bed was huge, and there were so many pillows around him, it felt like a fort.

Two blankets were on top of him, one so soft he couldn’t help rubbing his cheek against it. He was surrounded by a cozy, light cologne smell.

He was also fully clothed.

His jeans were itchy, and he suddenly felt claustrophobic as he realized the sun was up and he was alone in a stranger’s bed.

He sat up and looked around.

The room itself wasn’t that big, the bed taking up most of the space. The door was closed, but he could hear someone moving around outside of it. He looked to the right to see a door that must lead to a bathroom.

He quickly got out of the bed, shoving his shoes on and grabbing his wallet off the table. He opened the door and saw the back of a man with long, curly hair.

The bartender.

Eddie.

Eddie had taken care of him during his migraine. His migraine that he should’ve known was coming and stayed the hell home.

He was an idiot.

When Eddie turned around, he felt his heart stop.

God, he was pretty.

Like, Steve might have to change up the nights he comes to the bar just to get a glimpse of this beautiful man.

“Hey. Feeling better? Must be since you’re standing without support.”

Steve blushed. He’d never been in this position before, and he had no idea what the proper etiquette is for thanking someone for taking care of you when you’re unable to even move or talk.

“Uh. Yeah, much better. Um.” Steve awkwardly stood by the counter while Eddie continued mixing coffee in a mug. “Thanks for. All that.”

Eddie was laughing. In another circumstance, Steve may have found it cute, maybe been proud of himself for making a hot guy laugh.

But he was dealing with a migraine hangover, which usually left him grumpy.

Eddie must’ve noticed because he stopped laughing abruptly.

His head tilted to the side as he looked Steve up and down.

“You know, Robin called four times already this morning to check on you. You should probably call her and let her know I didn’t murder you and hide the body already.”

“Okay. Yeah. I.” He felt around in his pockets and couldn’t feel his phone. Shit.

“Over there. Charging.” Eddie said as he pointed towards the table by his front door.

“Thanks.”

Steve walked over to his phone to see 33 missed calls from Robin.

He called her back immediately, not wanting her to actually show up with a SWAT team.

“Thank god! Steve, I told you to call by lunch. I was just about to call Hop.”

“You’re the one who left me here.”

“Yes, assuming you’d wake up early enough that I wouldn’t assume you’ve been murdered!”

“What time is it?”

“Almost 3:00, Steve!”

“Fuck. Okay. I’m leaving now.”

Eddie cleared his throat and nodded at the counter, which now had a plate of fried eggs, toast, bacon, and sausage on it.

“Okay I’m eating, then I’m leaving.”

“You better text me. I’ll show up with Hop!”

“Robin. Jesus.” Steve felt a bit lightheaded. “I am literally at the bar. You know where I am and who I’m with. Chill.”

“You were incapacitated.”

“And now I’m not. I can escape if I have to.”

“You’re not as strong as you think you are!”

He hung up before she kept going. She would stay on the phone for hours if he let her, and he wasn’t in the mood.

He made his way to the counter and sat down, smiling at the steaming food.

“You didn’t have to cook all this. Especially this late in the afternoon. You probably have to head down to the bar.”

“Nah. I own the place. I just work there to keep myself busy. I’m all yours until you’re good to go home.”

Steve didn’t have much of a response for that, his brain still firing on the bare minimum. Migraine hangovers were worse than actual hangovers.

He ate a few bites silently, then looked up to see Eddie setting a cup of tea in front of him.

“What’s this?”

“Technically, sleepy time tea. But it works really well for headaches.”

“Oh. Thanks. It won’t like, make me fall asleep?”

Eddie laughed and Steve decided he was happy to hear it now.

“No. It has relaxing properties to it, but it doesn’t actually make you drowsy.”

Steve took a few small sips and smiled.

“It’s good.”

“My uncle says I make the best.” Eddie leaned over the counter with a smile. “So, you thought going to a bar was a good idea with a headache? On our DJ night?”

“It wasn’t that bad when I left. Thought I’d be okay.”

“Mhm. So you get these a lot?”

“Well. I mean I do get migraines a lot. But that one was one of the worst I’ve had in a while. I can usually still talk and walk enough to get to my own bed.”

“Do you remember everything?”

Steve knew he had a lot of blank spots in his memory from last night. If Eddie wasn’t such a nice guy, he’d probably be more worried about it.

“No. I have memory problems when I get them.”

“Ah. Well that’s okay. I got you into bed pretty easily. You only woke up twice. Once to use the bathroom, which you managed to do alone. The second time you were crying about having to sleep alone? I couldn’t understand all of it, but that seemed to be the gist.”

“Oh.” Steve sighed. “That’s super embarrassing. Guess I’ll never come back here. Maybe never leave my house again.”

Eddie smirked. “I dunno. I think maybe I could fix the sleeping alone thing. You know, when you’re not incapacitated from a migraine.”

“You’re serious?”

Eddie nodded.

“You saw me like that and would actually want to be around me again?”

“I was hoping for more than around you. Maybe on you? In you? Next to you? All of those sound good.”

Steve choked on his next bite.

“Uh.”

He took a sip of the tea to help clear his throat, ignoring the way Eddie was moving around the counter.

“You know, Robin kept me on the phone for about an hour earlier, telling me all about how you’re the best guy she’s ever known and she’s a lesbian for a reason so that means a lot. Said you guys come here once a week because it’s the best place to find decent people, not just anyone. Said you’ve both had a bit of a dry spell.”

“She’s exaggerating.”

“Oh, so it hasn’t been eight months since you’ve taken someone home?”

“No.”

Eddie’s eyebrows raised in a challenge.

“It’s been ten.”

“My bar hasn’t been good to you, I guess.”

“Up until last night, I guess not. But I still prefer it over the clubs.”

“Until last night?”

“Yeah. The guy who owns the place kind of rescued me and let me sleep in his really comfy bed. He probably deserves something for that.”

“Oh? What does he deserve?”

“Well, I’d offer a blowjob, but I’m out of practice and might disappoint.”

“Somehow I doubt that.”

“But maybe he’d be okay with a real date?”

“When would this date be?”

“Maybe tonight?”

“Hm. He has to check the bar schedule, make sure no one needs coverage.”

“He can text me later to confirm.”

“I sure hope you’re giving me your number to do that.”

Steve laughed and held his hand out. Eddie placed his phone in his hand and waited for him to type his name and number in his contacts.

When Steve handed it back, their hands grazed each other. Eddie wrapped his fingers around Steve’s wrist, squeezing for a moment.

“Dinner here? Maybe 8?”

“I thought you had to check the schedule.”

“Nah, just needed your number. I make the schedule, I know it like the back of my hand.”

Steve shook his head.

“Can’t start a relationship on lies.”

“Oh, a relationship? You move quick don’t you.”

Steve did. He knew he did. It’s why he’d never been able to keep anyone around. He moved like he was ready for marriage on the first date, and usually people didn’t like that.

He looked down at his lap, already prepared to lose Eddie’s interest.

But he felt a hand on his cheek, slowly guiding him to look up.

“Dinner here at 8?”

“Uh. Yeah. Please.”

Eddie smirked at him before he placed a soft kiss on his lips.

“Just be yourself, Steve. I like you just fine. And I’ve already seen you at your worst and your crazy best friend. It’s all uphill from here.” Eddie pulled away and moved back to start cleaning dishes from his cooking. “Who knows? Maybe we’ll end up married by the end of the year.”

“Now you’re making fun of me.”

“Am I?”

Eddie looked over his shoulder, serious look on his face.

“Are you?”

“No. Stranger things have happened.”

[dead-boys-club]

†  the hero : shigaraki.

❥ scenario: tomura dealing with emotions for the enemy. ❥ uuuuuuhhhh... tw for death. technically multiple but you only read about one. ❥ i don't have any beta readers - you get what you get. ❥ half requested.

❥ this post has five parts to it and it's a shit show. if you have issues with tomura actually feeling human things - please leave my inbox out of it.

❥ the timeline here is fucked. the ending has tomura with red eyes, bite me. it's a fucking shit show. enjoy.

❥ hate me, please. even if you can't hate me more than i hate myself. this is 8651 words.

✧*̥˚ the feelings *̥˚✧

it's no shock that tomura would be confused and very much in denial. not only would he not understand his own feelings or the fact he could feel such a way but falling for a hero? he's supposed to despise them; it goes against his entire belief system. he would have trouble navigating such feelings, mostly because he wouldn't. he wouldn't want to deal with them. he would go the route of bullshitting his way through it and brush them off as fascination or curiosity, telling himself it was entirely about their quirk - yes, that's all it is. he couldn't possibly feel genuine affection towards a hero.

he wouldn't handle it very well. he'd be frustrated beyond belief. pro heroes are obstacles, enemies - the bane of his existence, actually. not romantic interests. the ingrained hatred would be significant to his frustration. he would barely be able to comprehend his own level of agitation. it would just continue to grow and gnaw at his thoughts.

the one thing he wouldn't expect was the sudden self doubt that bubbled up. was he going insane? he would feel as if he couldn't trust his own judgement. was he becoming weak? to tomura, emotions just get in the way and make someone too vulnerable. it felt like parts of him were exposed and raw. he would struggle with the uncertainty and the internal conflict would have him collapsing in on himself.

internalizing everything and trying to rationalize would only make things worse. he would become obsessed with them. he would find some way to learn more about them - he wouldn't go as far as stalking them but he needed to know more. he would analyze every action, movement, word - it would prove to be a distraction more than once. this would lead to more interactions, making sure he was part of any scene they were. he wouldn't admit it but he had a strong desire to be near them.

of course, he'd wonder why. what made them so.. interesting? was it the pseudo untouchable hero shit? he couldn't say they weren't attractive but he also wasn't sure when he started noticing those things. the way they spoke, fought, even the way they walked - he couldn't take it.

despite everything, seeing them injured would just add on to the rage he already felt, bringing it to a level he didn't even know he could feel. he would feel some weird, uncharacteristic protectiveness towards them, one he wouldn't even fully understand. he was getting sick of not understanding his own feelings. the problem started when he began going out of his way to make sure they weren't getting harmed by other villains. he'd be lowkey about it but unbeknownst to him, the hero wouldn't be as oblivious as the villains.

jealous. tomura doesn't exactly have the best hold of grasping his emotions, so seeing you with other heroes, even interacting with your fans - it all made his skin crawl in such a disgusting manner. it would only fuel his anger and confusion. his view of the world would also feel disrupted. how was he supposed to feel?

tomura wasn't built to handle moral dilemma - he simply wasn't. the hatred he felt towards heroes was deeply imbedded in his past, his goals and his ideology. having feelings for someone on the other side of the court, that he was supposed to loathe, would force him to reevaluate his thoughts and beliefs - he would have to face a lot of painful memories. he briefly wondered if his brain and feelings were pulling some sick, twisted hero version of 'daddy issues'. was there a part of him seeking something? he ignored the idea that something was looking and pleading to be healed.

why was he even thinking about it? they would simply reject him, anyway. he feared that rejection - the rejection of allegiances and of him as a human being. did they even see him as such? or, was he simply another monster? it would weight heavily on him, feeling as thought he could never make a move. that thought would lead him to his next problem: acceptance.

he would eventually accept his feelings and affections, somewhat begrudgingly. it would be slow and he wouldn't like it one bit. succumbing to his need to be accepted by them. it would have a sudden moment of clarity and being honest, he might vomit at the wave of overwhelming emotions. but, he would finally acknowledge as what they are.

slowly and subtly, he'd begin changing the way he acted towards them. to everyone's surprise and distaste, he would be less hostile, not wanting them involved in conflict. the notable change, however, wouldn't be good. as the other villains noticed, it would cause a rift and considerable tension among them. this would add only more to his plate.

drabble.

sitting in the dimly lit hideout, tomura was doing everything he could top stop the racing thoughts in his mind. the images of the pro were making a mess of his thoughts and he couldn't get any of it to go away. he hated how his heart race quickened and his hands shook just because of them. he was going mad.

'damn it,' he hissed to himself, agitated beyond comprehension. 'why them?'

their last encounter haunted him, playing on loop and reminding him of the way he was looked at. they looked at him as if they saw more than just a villain. their gaze held understanding, concern.. compassion. it made something in him flutter, something that shouldn't exist. something he so desperately wanted to ignore.

his thoughts were disrupted when toga bounded into the room. 'hey!' she chimed, eyes twinkling with mischief. everyone else may have had a problem but he didn't want to admit that she understood. 'thinking about your little hero again?'

his gaze shifted to glare at her, jaw clenching briefly. 'shut up. it's none of your business.'

despite knowing his temper wasn't one to mess with, she decided to comment anyway. 'don't be so upset! i love a hero, too!' she giggled, making her way out of the room. he did his best to ignore her but he couldn't. he was so in love and it terrified him to no end.

✧*̥˚ the hero is immune *̥˚✧

his instant reaction would be pure shock. he's never known someone to be immune to his quirk and that was his biggest weapon; what use was he against you? he would be powerless. having an immunity to his quirk sounded impossible. he would be almost like a child, having to test it multiple times, being unable to believe his eyes. you shouldn't still be standing in from of him. he was back to that disgusting, exposed feeling. he was... useless.

if he wasn't curious about your quirk previously, he was fully invested in figuring it out. he needed to understand how it worked. he would be relieved for a little while, thinking about how he actually had a sliver of a chance.. someone he could touch without worry but it would be quickly overshadowed by fear. what did this mean for him? he had no control, no power - no walls put up.

he would be even more confused at this point. tomura has a sense of superiority that seemed to suddenly be dissipated. he would get angry with the way he questioned his own power. his growing feelings for you would cause his thoughts to clash even more violently. his desire to destroy heroes would be shaken by his inability to harm one, not to mention not wanting to. the idea of hurting you made him sick to his stomach. however, that growing desire to learn more would just lead him to want to be even closer. he was spilling himself apart between fear and uncertainty against love and need.

something that would make this conflict worse would be not knowing if anything was real. the way you looked at him and seemed to not want to hurt him in return.. was it a ploy to get closer? was your immunity a threat and you were just.. a plan. a fake. he would struggle severely with paranoia. would you use this against him? his growing love for you was already a weakness but now, you could easily become his downfall.

but.. he could touch you. he could hold you. and, he kind of hated that.

drabble

shigaraki was pacing around in the abandoned building, lit only by streaks of moonlight, trying to get his thoughts straight as he battled fascination and frustration. you just watched, arms folded and hip cocked. you couldn't count the amount of times he'd taken your hand or touched your arm, expecting you to crumble but there you stood, unscathed. he couldn't read your expression.

'how?' he finally asked, stopping in his tracks. his voice was low, something anyone else would consider dangerous but you were confident nothing could really happen. 'how are you immune?' "why did you come? why do you keep meeting me?' he didn't voice the questions in his head.

'my quirk makes me resistant to certain types of physical damage. usually it's against things like fire damage, ice.. surface poisons. i'm guessing your decay falls under that category.' you brushed it off as casually as you could because in reality, you hadn't known the extent of your own quirk.

he took a deep breath, a whirlwind of emotions racing through him. 'why didn't you tell me? this isn't the first time we've met.' he hoped it wouldn't be the last.

you frowned a little to yourself before your gaze softened and your arms fell, shrugging. 'i knew you would see me as a threat,' you answered, 'i liked the idea of you getting to know me as a person. not a threat, not a hero.'

you had to be taunting him, right?

'you.. you're.. different.' it was mostly said to himself but not quiet enough to not be heard. he wanted to stop closer to you, to reach for you, but he stopped himself, hands trembling at his sides.

you, on the other hand, took a step towards him. 'tomura.. there's a lot more to you than just decay. the day i took your hand and we both learned i was immune? you realize i did that not knowing what would happen? you don't have to be defined by.. all of this alone.'

his breath caught in his throat and he looked away. the way you said his name with such gentleness, it made his heart ache. his eyes closed to attempt calming himself and he found himself imagining a world where you were right. a world where he wasn't a villain, where he could be with you without all of the complications. that wasn't possible.

but, those thoughts had to come to an end and reality was a harsh thing. 'this changes nothing,' he muttered, voice a bit shaky and lacking it's usual conviction. fuck.

you just nodded. 'it's a start.'

unable to shake the feeling he had, he knew it was best to say nothing more and turned to leave. he couldn't allow himself to show such a vulnerable side to you.. not when he still didn't know your motives. your immunity to decay could be something much more than a quirk, it was painting itself out to be a symbol of hope that maybe there was more to life, to his life, than fear and destruction.

✧*̥˚ the confession *̥˚✧

the atmosphere felt heavy and thick with the tension of unspoken feelings. you stood across from tomura once more, tucked away from the world in your usual meeting spot, one that shouldn't exist to begin with. you wanted to say it was worth it, unable to deny the growing bond between you, but was it? it was nice to have a place away from the prying, judgmental eyes of society, of heroes and villains. but, what would the cost be if you were found?

'we.. can't keep meeting like this, tomura. it's dangerous.' you began, knowing that both of you would face horrible consequences.

he shifted his weight, uncomfortable and awkward, eyes narrowing as he tried to hide as much as he could. 'you think i don't know that?' he hissed out, hands clenching, 'but i.. i can't just stay away. i..'

you furrowed your brow, trying to figure something out. you searched his features for some type of answer, even a sign of the person beneath the villain standing before you but it was useless. 'why do you keep coming back to me? what is it you want?'

a long pause followed your question, your desperate attempt for something, anything to ease the curiosity. his fingers twitched, palms burning with how his desire to destroy everything around him was clashing with his own desperate need to hold something - someone - and feel human for even a moment.

'i don't understand it. you make me.. question everything and i hate it. i don't know what any of this is or how to handle it. you've made me feel things that i've kept buried for so long.'

listening to him, you took a few steps towards him, leaving only about two feet of space. 'then tell me what they are and i can figure them out with you. i've said it before, tomura, you're so much more than you're giving yourself credit for. you're not just.. a vil--'

you were cut off. 'i don't need your pity, so stop. i'm not a lost cause that you can save. i'm not just another badge for your hero bullshit.' he spoke the words through gritted teeth, angry and confused about.. everything.

'if it was pity and i thought you were just a lost cause, we wouldn't be standing here. you'd be in custody,' you pointed out firmly, straightening your shoulders, 'it's not pity. pity doesn't make me meet up with a villain who is trying to kill everyone around me. this is.. this is something else.'

he didn't know how to respond for a moment, your words echoing in his head. his heart began to pound, his confidence shattering and his mask nonexistent under the weight of his feelings. 'i don't know how to say this.. i've spent so long hating, destroying.. being angry. i didn't know i was capable of feeling something like this.'

you knew things were bleeding into a territory they shouldn't and you should have stopped the moment you fully began to understand what he meant. but, heroes have their faults, too. instead, you moved closer and gently collected one of his hands. 'it's okay. just say it, whatever it is, say it. i'm here.'

his nerves were eased by your touch, gripping onto it carefully as it grounded him to reality, one that was becoming far too overwhelming. he couldn't remember the last time he felt the warmth of someone beneath his fingertips for so long and it broke him even further.

taking a deep breath, he let it out and met your gaze. 'i.. i think.. no. no, i know. i've fallen for you,' his voice grew quieter with each word, no longer trusting or confident in his own voice, 'it scares me.. but, it's the truth.'

you knew what was coming but your eyes still widened upon hearing it. you moved on your own, even closer, your free hand coming up to settle over his cheek. 'tomura,' you whispered and God, his knees threatened to give out every single time you said his name. 'i've fallen for you, too.' you knew the deep shit you'd be in if anyone found out but in the moment, in that place, labels didn't exist.

his eyes fell shut as he leaned into your touch, breath shaky. for the first time in such a long time, he felt a sliver of hope. he felt, even if for the briefest of seconds, some type of peace. 'but.. what does this mean for us..? what can we even do.. how can we make it work?' he couldn't believe he was asking such things.

you just smiled, attempting to reassure him as you thumb moved over his cheek. 'we'll figure it okay, okay? one step at a time.'

standing there in silence, you held onto each other tightly, both lost in thought of how you were going to navigate the world from both sides without losing yourselves. for the first time, tomura felt like had had something, someone, worth the fighting. this time, not out of hate.

✧*̥˚ the first date *̥˚✧

a couple of weeks after the confession was the day neither of you expected to come. the sun was beginning to set over the abandoned park, painting it gold and making it seem so surreal; it was the perfect spot to meet up away from the city. it offered peace.

tomura showed up first, hands in his pockets and trying not to press his nails against thighs shielded only by thin material. never in a million years did he think he would be waiting to meet up with a pro for anything other than conflict. the confession had been intense and overwhelming and agreeing to go on a date, well.. it was uncharted, somewhat scary territory.

as you approached, you managed to catch his gaze as it lifted. he couldn't help but think of how different you looked in casual attire, bringing the tiniest of smiles to his lips.

'you're here,' he mumbled, the mix of relief and nervousness making him want to curse under his breath. he still wasn't wanting to be so open with how his head was working.

'where else would i be?' you mused, offering a warm smile in return. 'come on, let's go.'

as you began to walk, he fell into step beside you, flinching when your arm looked with his own. it was quiet for the most part, the occasional crunch of leaves and rustle of wind breaking into the silence. it was comfortable, just roaming along. it felt normal.

'so,' you began, looking over to him, 'what do you like to do, hm?'

being interesting was something he wasn't and the question made him shrug a little. 'i.. don't really know. it's been a while since i've thought about those things or had the time to.. do anything outside of, you know, the villain stuff.'

'"the villain stuff"', you snickered, finding the answer amusing though not trying to mock him. 'i understand that.. i haven't had many hobbies myself since, well, the hero stuff, i guess.'

the walk lead to a small bench, surrounded by overgrown grass and little flowers, offering an odd sense of welcoming. you sat down first, followed by him, though he was hesitant. it all felt so domestic to him, like his normal life was so distant. he wasn't sure how to relax and accept how at ease he felt.

'what about.. any favorite places?' you asked, this time a little more quiet, attempting to draw him out of his thoughts.

he thought a second 'oh.. there was a place i used to go, some years back. an arcade.. i liked the games, all the lights.. the ugly carpet. i felt like i could be normal there.'

feeling the urge to frown at the last part, you shook it off and gently nudged him. 'arcade? maybe we can go find one someday.. play some games, be normal people.' you understood the struggle with being normal, even if it had two different reasonings.

he couldn't fight the smile that appeared, looking down to hide it from you. 'yeah.. maybe.' he felt like he was trying to fool himself, like he was playing a silly game. he thought back to how little kids would play house and it quickly turned his smile into a frown, realizing he was just playing the grown up version.

noticing the change, you leaned to rest your head on his shoulder. 'we'll get there.. i promise.'

you both sat there for a while, letting the sun go down and leaving you to look up at the night sky, content to pretend nothing else mattered. you talked about little things, even going as far as to share stories from your childhood that garnered your most favorite sound; tomura laughing. it was foreign but you found yourself just falling deeper.

sighing, you both leaned back, relaxing against each other. 'it's beautiful, isn't it?' you mumbled, referring to the sky.

tomura's gaze never left your face, not bothering to look up or even figure out what you meant. 'yeah,' he answered softly. a warmth spread through him that he'd never felt before, finally understanding that the connection.. you, in general, was something he'd been missing. it was so much more than breaking rules, lying, defying labels' he was finding a piece of himself that he'd thought dead and gone.

when you turned to find his gaze on you, your own softened and you leaned just enough to bump the tips of your noses together. he still wasn't used to the affection. 'thank you for tonight. i know.. this isn't easy.. and, i don't know where it's going to go but i'm glad we're here. trying.'

with a deep breath, he shifted around to sit sideways and face you, hesitantly taking your hand along the way. 'me too.'

you laced your fingers with his own, head tipped back against the bench to look at him in the new position, gaze full of nothing but warmth. that's how you both stayed for a while, well into the early morning, just talking. both of you felt a glimmer of hope, the promise of some type of breakthrough. something real. that could possibly make sense one day.

✧*̥˚ breaking point *̥˚✧

as the numbers on your clock switched to shine back at you just how late it was, you took a deep breath and decided it was finally time to try and sleep. it was normal for you to be awake past midnight but you just felt so drained. as you rose to head for bed, you were stopped by the faint sound of a knock at the front door. the sound put you on edge and you moved to check through the security screen, eyes widening at what you saw.

tomura was at your door, hood pulled low to mostly shield his features. something about it made your stomach twist, feeling like something was wrong and you were quick to open the door, pulling him inside. the last thing you needed was for him to get caught.

'tomura, what are you doing here?' you asked, concern evident in your voice. out of pure instinct, you began checking to see if he was hurt, heart racing.

he caught your wrists carefully to stop you, shaking his head. you took notice of how he was trembling, how his eyes flickered around the unfamiliar setting of your apartment as if someone was going to jump out and end your little game.

'i didn't know where to go,' he finally answered, voice raw and broken. 'everything.. everything is.. it's too much. i don't even know what to believe anymore.'

you were confused and worried. the man before you most definitely wasn't the one who was trying to kill you almost two years ago but he also wasn't the one who had spent several nights on a park bench laughing with you. you gently got your wrists free and guided him to the couch. 'talk to me, what happened?'

as he sat down, he held his hands in front of him, arms resting on his knees. he stared at them as if they were foreign to him, gaze filled with desperation and fear. 'do you know how long i've spent being told what to do.. who to hate, what's good, what's bad.. and now there's you. everything is different and it's.. it's terrifying.'

you weren't going to begin to say you understood because you didn't. your struggles were on a completely different playing field. that didn't stop you from reaching out to take his hands. 'you're not alone and you're not going to ever face any of this alone. it's okay to be scared.. you're human. i don't care what anyone else has ever told you - you are human. all of this.. it's new for both of us and while i can't say i can see from your view, i will be here and we will figure it out together.'

he flinched, watching the way your hands went around his, almost like he was waiting for what would always come. he still wasn't used to it and he was so scared the one day, all it would take was the brush of his hand to lose you. 'i don't know how to do this,' he whispered with a weak, broken chuckle. 'i don't know how to be anything other than what i am. what i've been. i've barely ever been seen as human.'

it broke your heart to listen to him, wishing you could go back and change something - anything - so that he didn't have to experience what put him in such a mindset. 'i wish i could give you all the answers.. but i can't. just.. breathe, okay? i'm right here.' you shifted closer to pull him into your arms, hugging him as close as you could.

tomura didn't hesitate to hide against you, face pressed into your shoulder as he began to shake with silent sobs. he clung to you, fingers curled into your shirt, relishing in the miracle of being able to touch someone and doing his best not to think of the fact it was also a curse. maybe.. just maybe, had you not been immune, you'd both be better off.

'i've been so angry for so long,' he finally spoke again, muffled against your shoulder. 'angry at everything.. heroes, the world, myself, all of it. but you, i can't even explain.. you make me feel so much more and i don't know what to do with it. are we supposed to just.. hide for the rest of our lives..? be.. ashamed..?'

'ashamed..' you repeated, tightening your hold on him, 'i'm not ashamed.' or, were you? you told yourself you could never be ashamed to be with him but he was right, you were both hiding. you'd both be traitors, untrusted.. unwanted. 'i.. i don't know. it's not easy and.. i just don't know.'

he didn't respond and you didn't expect him to, your answer giving him next to no relief and only giving yourself more to think about. but, you stayed put for a while, holding him as he cried, letting out years of pent up emotions, the weight of fear and doubt becoming too much. slowly, his sobs began to slow and his breathing evened out. he wasn't anywhere near done but his body really had nothing left.

'thank you,' he muttered, voice hoarse as he turned his head, coughing a little. 'i.. i really don't know what i'd do without you.. how i made it this far, even.'

'you never have to worry about that,' you promised, gently brushing his hair aside. you hoped your own worry wasn't noticeable.

leaning up to press a kiss to his forehead, you pulled back slowly to get to your feet, holding out your hand. 'stay, let's go to bed. you need the rest.. away from everything.'

✧*̥˚ golden gaze *̥˚✧

off for the afternoon, you sat on your couch, head in your hands as you reflected on the events of three nights ago. seeing tomura so broken and not being able to give any answers - it put you in a place of wondering just what was going to happen. was your quirk such an unfortunate thing to put you in such a place? you didn't ask to fall in love but you knew walking away wasn't an option. you were startled out of your thoughts by a knock and honestly, you were getting nervous about visitors and upon getting up to check, you had every right to be. behind your door was hawks, his usual relaxed expression replaced with something serious. something.. dangerous.

'hey,' he greeted when you finally opened the door, his tone telling you this wasn't just a friendly visit. 'we need to talk.'

fuck.

you nodded and let him in, door closed and locked behind him. hawks made his way into the living room, golden eyes scanning out of habit and to search for something - for someone. once you were both seated, he eyed you for a moment.

'They've got me watching you. It's been two weeks now,' he said bluntly, clenching and unclenching his jaw. 'They know something's up. Suspicious as always.'

your heart sank and you knew the way you flexed your fingers and looked away said all that he needed. 'i see,' you whispered. you knew it could happen, even being so careful, and the confirmation felt like a punch to the gut. no matter how hard you tried, lying to him wasn't possible.

hawks sighed and leaned back, pushing a hand through his hair. 'Look.. we're friends, have been for a while. So, I'm gonna be straight with you and ask. Who is it? What have you been sneaking around for and do I need to put an end to it?'

you knew that fighting your best friend wasn't something impossible and as much as you'd both be against it.. you shook your head. the weight of your friendship made you tell the truth, knowing your secrets were at least in good hands. 'Tomura Shigaraki,' you confessed, looking down as your fingers gripped at your sweatpants, 'we.. we've been seeing each other. i know, i know how it sounds and it's complicated but it's real, Kei. you know i wouldn't risk so much if it wasn't.'

hawks' eyes widened before he let out a low whistle, head shaking as he let your words sink it. 'Shigaraki.. that's.. damn, that's big.' he was still processing the information, genuinely at a head with how he was supposed to react. when he was called in, he expected it to be something small. 'Can't say I'm a fan, for obvious reasons. He's dangerous, and everything he stands for goes against what all of us are fighting for.'

you didn't need to be reminded and it brought tears to your eyes, unable to stop them. 'i know, kei. but.. please, try to understand, he's different when it's just us. he's trying.. i- i feel like he could change. i believe in him.' it sounded pathetic, betting your career on love and hope.

hawks was silent for a second, analyzing you before he scooted closer, a hand settling on your shoulder. 'i won't tell anyone. the commission won't hear it from me. as far as i'm concerned, you've just been sneaking out to catch a break.'

your head snapped up, looking at him through the blur of your tears. 'thank you.. but why? you.. why would you take such a big risk..?'

he didn't want to make things morbid but it was something you'd already heard from him. he gave a sad smile, squeezing your shoulder. 'I can't take something away from someone that i've always wanted. a real connection, real love.. someone to come home to. it's rare. and if you really think he could change, maybe there's hope for you guys. i can't.. get in the way of that. you wouldn't be here, like this, if it wasn't real.'

his words only made more tears fall, the stress and anxiety of the last several days finally hitting their breaking point. 'i.. i don't know what to do, kei. h-he's scared and doesn't know what to do.. fate is s-so fucking cruel to do this to us,' you sobbed, lifting your hands slightly in a gesture, 'to put us against each o-other.. the opposite sides of a full blown w-war.. and make us love each other? why..'

shifting around, hawks pulled you into a hug, wings folding around you in a protective manner. 'it is fucked up.. but, i'm sure you're going to figure it out. you're not alone in this.'

you clung to him, sobbing against his shoulder and letting out the tears you couldn't, wanting to be strong for tomura. hawks just let you be, whispering what he could of reassurances and offering comfort that it seemed you desperately needed. as you began to gradually calm down, finding it difficult to breathe, you pulled back slightly, beyond thankful to have the blond as such a close friend.

'thank you, kei,' you whispered, wiping and rubbing at your eyes.

he shrugged, wiping away a tear from your cheek with a small smile. 'hey, what are friends for? i'll do what i can to help.. just, be careful, alright? one step at a time.'

you sat together for a while, telling him more and getting his comments. you were thankful for the support, feeling a little less suffocated by everything. the future was uncertain but you would find a way.

✧*̥˚ confrontation *̥˚✧

tomura sat at the worn out table of the hide out, one arm crossed with his forehead resting on it, lost in thought. he seemed to be going over the same thoughts as you. what he hadn't expected was the door to swing open with a harsh bang against the wall and dabi to enter, eyes bright with anger.

'it is true?' he ask, voice dripping with contempt. 'you've got to be kidding me. you're involved with a pro hero?'

he was too tired to fight. 'what if i am?' he asked, head lifting to look at him, expression unreadable. 'it's none of your business.'

his brow furrowed when the latter slammed his hand on the table, the rattle making him groan. as dabi leaned closer, eyes flickering, he knew the conversation wasn't going to end well. 'what the hell are you thinking? they're the enemy - our enemy! you're the leader of the league of villains, for fucks sake!'

he'd never exactly seen the other show that much of a reaction to something and honestly, a tiny part of him was amused. 'you're talking like you do anything but chase after your pro hero father for acknoweldgement. you're going to lecture me?'

before dabi could respond, toga had slipped into the room, a look of concern on her features. 'i think you should calm down,' she said, stepping between them. 'do you really think it's that simple? come on.'

turquoise eyes rolled and a laugh sounded, echoing in the most empty room. 'not that simple? he's fraternizing with the enemy, toga. this could destroy everything we've ever worked for.'

toga shook her head, glancing back to tomura before speaking, her tone soft but firm. 'no, it won't. shigaraki knows what he's doing. besides.. maybe this could be a good thing?'

getting up from his seat, tomura stood up, meeting dabi's gaze. 'i'm not betraying the league. i know what's at stake but.. i won't give up on them. it's making me question things, sure, but maybe toga's right.'

looking between the two of them, the oldest scoffed. 'why are either of you even here? you both sound like lovesick morons. what's next? are you going to go and beg to join them next?'

toga frowned at the words, knowing her own interaction with heroes was just as complicated. 'he's right.. we've all questioned things but we're all still here. maybe.. it'll be a push to a better path.'

his anger wavered as he looked between them once more, feeling uncertain but he was aware no one was changing their minds. 'and what happens when your precious hero betrays us? what happens when they betray you, shigaraki?'

it wasn't a thought that tomura wanted bouncing around his head, not again. his gaze hardened and his fists clenched but he had nothing to say. he trusted you but no one was going to listen. toga just looked up to him, feeling sympathy for his dilemma. he was thankful at least one person was on his side.

dabi sighed, frustrated, and just threw his hands up. 'whatever. when this backfires, don't expect me to clean up the mess.' and with that, he was already stomping off out of the room, head shaking.

'don't worry, we'll handle it together,' toga said, regaining some of her usual playfulness as she turned to face tomura. 'we always do. i'm here for you, too.'

tomura felt a slight sense of relief that it hadn't escalated any further, humming at the girl's attempt to comfort him. '..thanks, toga.. i appreciate it.'

she winked, showing off a toothy grin. 'anytime! now, let's figure out our next move, yeah?'

✧*̥˚ the delusion of a happy ending *̥˚✧

the night was quiet, eerily so as you patrolled the outskirts of town. but something felt off and you couldn't put a finger on it. the darkness felt heavy, almost suffocating as your stomach began to twist with an overwhelming sense of dread. you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong but what? everything seemed normal. nothing seemed out of place. not a soul was even in the streets.

and suddenly, the air began to thicken, crackling with what could only be a sinister energy. you shouldn't have turned around. you should have flagged the others and done your best to run but you didn't. you turned on your heel to face the one person you knew you couldn't defend yourself against. All For One stood before you, his presence felt like it was crushing you and he radiated malice.

'good evening, hero,' he began, voice mocking. 'i've been waiting to meet you.'

you hesitated before taking a defensive stance, deciding if you were going out, you'd at least try. 'what do you want?'

his response was to chuckle and it made your heart pound, skin crawling at the sound. 'you see, there's been something of a.. complication recently. shigaraki seems to have taken a liking to you and.. well, that simply won't do.'

your eyes widened, realization dawning on you. 'you.. how do you..?'

'i know everything,' he answered, tone laced with disdain, 'i cannot allow this distraction to continue. he must remained focused on our goals.'

before you could react, his hand raised and a malevolent energy began swirling about his fingers. moving didn't seem to be an option, feeling as if the air itself was keeping you glued to your spot. this was it - you were going to die and didn't even have a fighting chance. you almost laughed at how pathetic it was.

'this is for the greater good, you see?' he began coldly, 'your quirk has become quite the nuisance and i think it's time to get rid of such a pesky thing. you don't need it, right?'

reality was a cruel thing. he wasn't going to kill you. he was going to make you miserable. before you could speak, a sudden searing pain spread through your frame. it felt as if every fiber of your being was being torn apart, atom by atom and you screamed, the sound echoing through the streets.. or maybe not? no one seemed to hear it. your visioned was blurry by the time you were dropped to your knees, feeling empty and weak.

All For One stepped closer, his expression one of mild curiosity. 'it's fascinating how easily power can be taken away, isn't it,' he mused.'

as the pain subdued, you felt hollow.. a disgusting, heavy emptiness flooding you. you'd never fully understood your quirk but it had given you something so meaningful and it was gone. looking up to the man, your eyes filled with angry tears. 'you won't win,' you hissed out, nearly choking on the words, 'h-he'll see through your bullshit.'

'perhaps.'

with that, he was gone, disappearing into the shadows in which he came, leaving you broken on the ground. you tried to stand but your legs gave out, leaving you on the concrete to let reality fully sink in on what had happened. you were quirkless. and there was nothing you could do about it.

desperation build as you thought of tomura and you knew you needed to find him, to tell him. it took several minutes to summon any strength you had left to get to your feet, mind racing as you thought of where you could go. your secret meeting spot.. surely if he didn't hear from you, like he was supposed to, he'd look for you, right?

you stumbled through the streets, body aching and heart heavy. the cruel words of that evil man echoed through your thoughts, making you even more determined to keep going. his sick idea to not kill you but to use you against tomura made your insides burn with hatred. she felt vulnerable without her quirk but there was nothing she could do. she needed to find him.

it felt like hours before you reached the familiar spot, the bench from your first day, and collapsed onto it. your breathing was ragged and you were exhausted, pain still throbbing through your limbs. 'tomura, please..' you whispered to yourself.

it took an hour for him to appear, frantically looking for you after you didn't show up. his eyes grew wide with concern upon seeing the state you were in. 'what happened to you?' he asked, rushing to your side and instinctively reaching for you, his worry overriding his usual caution and hesitancy.

you were too slow. too slow to move, too slow to speak. before you had the chance to explain, his fingertips brushed against your arm. 'tomura, wait-!' you tried to get out, words having been caught in your throat as confusion, pain and fear filled you, overwhelming your senses. the sensation of decay was something your mind didn't even have time to describe to yourself. your eyes widened in pure horror and before he could even register what was happening, you were gone.

tomura's own eyes widened, watching his biggest fear unfolding right in front of him and it brought up too many flashbacks. 'no.. no, this.. this can't be happening,' he couldn't speak above a whisper, watching as you disintegrated and slipped through his fingers like sand. before he could fully comprehend what was happening, he fell to his knees, hands clutching the remnants of the person he'd grown to care for and love so deeply. the weight of his actions crashed down on him like a tidal wave and he could only think of one way you'd suddenly have no immunity to him.

'no!' he cried out, voice echoing through the empty alleyway, 'no, no, no..'

as he knelt there, surrounded by the dust that once had been you, someone he was willing to change so much for, he was back to the racing thoughts of conflicting emotions. the person who had made him question everything, had healed so much, that gave him hope for something better, was gone. and it was his fault. it was always his fault. he heard your voice in his head, telling him he wasn't a monster and it brought tears to his eyes.

'i am a monster,' he managed to get out, voice breaking, 'but him.. i..i trusted him.. and now.. he promised to help , to give me power.. a-all he's done it take e-everything away.. what little i had.' he didn't know how to come to terms with the new revelation, feeling like he was tearing apart at the seems. 'everything i believed in.. everything he taught me.. it was all a lie..'

'why.. why did this have to happen?' he asked himself, shaking with grief and rage. it was his fault. had he never approached you, it wouldn't have happened. the self blame hit but he was still far too angry to fully take the blame.

the reality of All For One's manipulation hit him with a harsh case of clarity. the mentor he had trusted, the one who took him in and cared for him, shaped his future.. the same man who orchestrated such a cruel fate. he felt such a burning hatred in his gut that he couldn't move. on top of his anger pressed the soul shattering guilt for what had happened, all because he was stupid enough to believe he deserved better.

as he sat their in the darkness for hours, hands stained, and weeping over the hero he loved, he no longer had any sense of purpose. who could he trust? who was right anymore..? as he let his thoughts wander, he thought back to the moment you spoke of change.. of understanding. he would carry the memory of you with him and make sure your loss wouldn't be in vain. it would be the catalyst for a new path.

as he got to his feet, elbow against the brick wall for support, he looked up to the night sky and took a deep, shaky breath. the path he was about to take was uncertain and the fight he would find himself in wasn't going to be easy - he even hoped it ended with being reconnected with you. but he would fight for a future that could honor your memory and he would find his own way, free from anyone else's control.

✧*̥˚ a tiny little bonus *̥˚✧

the sun was shining brightly over the campus, casting a warm glow over the students wandering across the grass, most likely trying to get to classes. among them, you walked between your two friends - toya and himiko. the group was chatting, laughing away as they discussed what they would get up to once all of their classes were over.

you were just starting your second year of college along with himiko, following behind toya who was in his third. the small blond girl added an bright, infectious energy to the conversation as she talked with her hands, excitedly talking about a project she was working on. toya on the other hand, while being interested, complained about his own project that he wasn't even sure would be finished in time. the day felt like quite an adventure to you, just nodded along and commenting when there was an opening.

as they walked, your attention was caught by a passing group of students - one in particular. a young man with disheveled black hair and soft red eyes, licking over his lips when one of his friends made a comment about them being dry. you bit back a chuckle when hearing a rebuttal about seasonal allergies. she couldn't ignore the way something tugged at her mind.

tenko was a transfer student who'd spent the past week unpacking and getting his schedule squared away, had somehow already made a small group of friends despite his seemingly introverted manner. as he walked, nudging one of the guys teasing him, he couldn't help but feel a strange sensation, feeling eyes on him and he stopped, turning around to catch your's gaze.

for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the world faded out and all they saw was each other, a familiar tug pulling at each other their hearts.

in your head, an familiar scene played, showing them in a pro hero costume, standing beside shigaraki in the dark alley. his gaze held fear and longing and you were brushing over his cheek, whispering that it would be okay. the memory seemed to bring tears to your eyes.

tenko, on the other hand, could see the moment he'd finally understood his quirk wasn't going to work. his hand was on your cheek, relief flooding him at the smallest touch. the raven was confused but it felt so.. familiar.

'hey, you okay?' himiko's voice broke through the spell and you blinked, head tipping towards her.

'oh.. sorry, i..' you began, pursing your lips, 'i thought i saw someone i knew..'

toya's eyebrow went up, glancing towards the young man then back. 'you know him?'

you shook your head with a frown. 'no but.. it feels like i should..? i just.. i just saw.. you know what, forget it? i sound crazy.'

tenko felt a familiar pull and as he kept walking, something told in to stop. he couldn't shake the feeling that he knew you, seemingly in another life, and he couldn't get himself to keep moving. the sensation was so unbelievably strong, he turned around and looked for you once more.

he didn't have a choice as he began moving towards you, heart beating harsh in his chest. 'excuse me,' he called, '..y/n?' he wasn't sure where the name came from but as he looked in your eyes, he felt an overwhelming wave of emotions, too many pictures rolling through his thoughts.

hearing the name, you looked up at him. 'tomura..?' you whispered.

himiko and toya had stepped back, exchanging curious glances but staying silent, not wanting to ruin the moment.

as you went to offer a hand to him, another student bumped him into you and the touch alone brought everything back. both of your memories from your past life flooding back like a dam had broken. both of you were shown the final moments of your relationship. and something in you broke, even dropping your bag.

'you.. you went against.. him..?' you asked, already throwing your arms around him as tears welled up in your eyes. you knew you shouldn't be upset but he wouldn't be standing in front of you had he not passed soon after.

'for you.' was his only answer, arms going around you tightly.

as the two of you stood, clinging to each other, whispering and sniffling, toya nudged himiko. 'did we just witness some reincarnation soulmate shit..?' he whispered, though he couldn't help but smile.

himiko nodded, offering him a toothy grin in return. 'fate really is weird, huh?' she asked, nudging him back. 'wonder if either of us have soulmates out there.'

the white haired male shrugged, tossing his bag over his shoulder. 'who knows.. wonder what kinda people we were, though.'

when the two of you pulled back, hands laced and prepared to face a whole new life together, you turned to face your friends. 'i'm sure we were friends in our past lives, too,' you chimed, being at least a little hopeful. none of your memories with each other showed them. soulmate stuff was weird, you decided.

himiko leaned down to pick up your discarded back. 'i'm sure we were all friends in all of our past lives.. just like we'll be in the next.'

everyone smiled and fell into step. tenko had waved back to his friends to go on without him and you resumed your conversation about plans, automatically pulling the raven into the middle of them.

'my dad's throwing some weird party for my brother.. you guys want to just hang out at my place?' toya asked, looking over the group. 'you can bring your new boyfriend.'

you rolled your eyes. 'wonder if your dad is this.. creepily.. attached to you and your siblings in another life. i'm pretty sure most of your house is covered in family portraits.'

'you realize i moved to a dorm just so i could breathe, right? he's like.. i don't even know how to explain it. he's like those t.v dad's that are so.. perfect? it's annoying.'

himiko laughed. 'you're upset because you have a loving family? that's soooo weird.'

toya clicked his tongue and reached to pinch her arm. 'you live on campus too, you know?'

you listened to them bicker, content to lean into tomura's side, peeking up at him as you walked. he glanced down at you, leaning to press a kiss against your forehead.

maybe, you thought, this life would treat you better.