#Not as bad but still gross abuse of italics

[morgana-ren]

hey hun!!! just letting you know your shigaraki fic was crazy good! tbh probably the best one i’ve read💕 jw if maybe you’d do a continuation?? if not that’s fineeee :)

Ask and yee shall receive! I love writing Shigaraki and I’ve actually had quite a few requests for a continuation. The more dialogue he has, the more challenging he is to write in character, so I hope this is up to par! 

HERE’S PART I! 

There was no better display of thesickening plethora of filth that was ‘hero culture’ than the mall.

Hoards of humans crowding inside aconcrete cage to throw their money at any cheap, shitty knockoff itemwith a famous face plastered on it. Kids ran amok, screaming andcrying and leaving a trail of crumbs and slobber in their wake.Teenage girls and boys huddled around the hippest stores, fawningover the latest heart throb and shoplifting trinkets while no one waslooking. It was absolutely disgusting.

Theyflocked to the stores like rats chasing poisoned peanut butter.Endeavor t-shirts, Uwabami makeup. Midnight lingerie. Fucking AllMight everything. Theyall flew off the rack as fast as they could be stocked. Moronic NPCsshoveling every ounce of garbage they could find into theirinventory. Every bone in his body longed to run his hand along thewall and just watch it all turn to dust.

His hatred of thegeneral populace was one of many reasons Shigaraki didn’t make ahabit out of leaving the bar. Assuming that Father had kept enough ofhis face hidden during his exploits for it to be somewhat safe, hestill didn’t particularly enjoy crowds. People of all sizes, shapes,colors, smells, cultures, ideals, and morals but they all had onething in common.

They all lookeddown on him.

Inpublic, he always kept his head down, hood and hair covering hismarred face. Hands steadily in his pocket, eyes on the ground. Hepulled himself into his own body, doing his best to not draw anyundue attention. It wasn’t for their benefit, of course, but his. Ifone more NPC stared athim, a single person let their eyes linger too long on his chappedlips, dry skin, scars, or emaciated form, he would snap andruin everything. A massacre that ended in his incarceration wouldprobably throw a massive sized wrench into the gears of All for One’splan, and that was the last thing Tomura wanted.

Regardless,it made him so angry.

Not that he caredwhat they thought. They could drown in their own filth as far as hewas concerned. He just didn’t like being stared at. It was so rude.These pack animals always pretended like they were so much betterthan everyone else, with their laws and their heroes. So superior.But the way they looked at him, the way their eyes crinkled indisgust, mouths agape, looking at him like he was a wet rat whocrawled out of a sewer grate.

How would they lookat him when their expressions were melting from their faces as theydisintegrated into ash?

The situation madehis fingers twitch and lip curl. Wasn’t it enough that idiot Stainhad polluted the minds of the city’s villains with his ridiculousideology? Did everything have to be such a pain in the ass?  

Luckily, Shigarakihad a few hobbies that helped to calm his mind. While drinking at thebar and crisping newspapers was always a quick and easy stressrelief, he had always been particularly taken with video games. Notonly did he enjoy them, but he was good at them. No one couldlook down at you for your appearance or ideals, the only thing thatmattered in the end was victory, and that was a strategy he couldwork with.

It didn’t matterthe genre, the rating, online or off, he knew he could dominate it.He never had much trouble climbing the rankings or leveling up.Nothing mattered but his prowess, his skill, both of which he had inspades. Not to mention, it allowed him to exercise his destructiveand domineering personality without drawing any real attention tohimself. In fact, it even made him cool. People would fightfor his allegiance during battles or races, sending him an wave offriend requests and messages with offers from their guilds orpromises of friendship from their groups. He didn’t care about that.He deserved the recognition. He was only getting what wascoming to him.

Buteven video games weren’t completely safe from the influx of heroparaphernalia pandering garbage. Gamingcompanies flocked to video games featuring heroes like a fly to shit.It was easily avoidable, sure, but it still pissed him off thatheroes could infect the one thing he genuinely enjoyed.

Still, he had toadmit, it fun wiping the floor with famous heroes in those gamessometimes. Even if the villains were hideously under powered. Infact, that made it even better. If he could win a fight with a nobodyvillain against a famous hero in a video game where there werelimited controls, can you imagine what he could do in real life wherethe possibilities were endless?

Soon the wholeworld would see. This was only the beginning.

Frankly, there wasonly one downside to gaming. Most new releases from the companies heliked didn’t come out with PC ports for a little while after thegame’s initial release, which meant he had to leave the safety of thebar and adjourn out into the world to get brand new games. Sure, hecould send Kurogiri to do it, but more than once he had come backwith the wrong game in the series, or even the wrong one entirely. Itwas a frustrating mess, and it was easier to just avoid it alltogether by going himself.

Besides, sometimeswalks helped him clear his head. Sometimes.

That was how hefound himself here. One of his favorite companies had just released abrand new action and adventure game that he’d been dying to try eversince he saw the trailer. He’d even had Kurogiri call in advance andreserve a copy. At least he could do that right.

Shigaraki neededthis. Needed to get his mind off of the Hero Killer Stain and AllMight and fucking all of it. He was driving himself mad goingaround in circles in his own head asking himself questions he knew hedidn’t have the answers to. He needed to put his head in the clouds,if only for a little while.

So he dodgedthrough the crowds of people, weaving in and out of families andgroups trying to get into the game store before he finally lost hislast ounce of sanity. There seemed to be more people here than usual,which just soured his mood even further. He should have known betterthan to come on a weekend. He grunted past several bystanders, bitinghis tongue to hold back the onslaught of insults fresh in his mind.It was only when he reached a rather impenetrable wall of people thathe inhaled sharply, ready to start grabbing.

A large group ofpedestrians had gathered in a circle around something, which wasblocking off a large portion of the walkway and therefore his path.He mumbled under his breath, tempted to forcefully move them out ofthe way. What in the hell was going on that was so important that itsaw fit to hinder him?

“Hey, isn’t that the hero classfrom UA?”

“Yeah! Wow! I saw them compete inthe sports festival! So awesome!”

“You guys are so cool! What’s itlike at UA?”

Shigarakistiffened. So they were here. He peered upward for a momentand saw the class huddled together, some blushing, others posing,obviously basking in their new found fame. That kid was heretoo. The mop of hair and splattering of freckles was visible evenfrom where he stood. That one willing to put himself in danger overand over again for All Might. Midoriya.

Maybe it wasn’tentirely a negative thing that he found himself here on thisparticular day. That boy obviously had his pulse on heroculture. Maybe he could explain why people were so taken withStain and yet completely ignored him. An ear splitting smile cutthrough Shigaraki’s face, irritating one of the blisters on his lowerlip. He wiped the blood and waited for the crowd to disperse as thestudents each went off in their own direction.

When it was onlyhim and one other student, a young girl with short brown hair, hemade his move. He started heading in the direction of Midoriya,grinning wider when the young girl sped off, leaving the kid all byhimself. It was so perfect. He was about to reach out and makehis move when he heard it.

A voice. A voicethat made his blood pound in his ears.

He stopped cold,hand stopped short of the oblivious Midoriya’s shoulder.Instinctively, his head turned in the direction of the voice, heartthrumming in his chest. Surrounded by a couple of fellow UA students,she was standing in front of a window, joking around with one of thepeople nearest her.

Her. She washere

Hisfingers began to shake as he withdrew them from Midoriya, stuffingthem back into his pocket before anyone noticed him. She was here. Heshould have known. She was in the class too. These kids stucktogether like glue. If they were here, it was certain she was nearby.Stupid stupid stupid. Hehad almost blown his chance.

But hehadn’t.

Heturned and stalked in her direction, staying only far enough back asto not draw attention, crimson eyes glaring into the back of herhead. She was laughing at something some blonde idiotin her class had said. He felt his temper go through the roof, andallowed one hand out to scratch and dig at his neck. Why was shetalking to him? Whywas she laughing so hard? What he said probably wasn’t even funny. Hedidn’t like the way that guy was looking at her. Did he likeher? Did she like him?

Hefelt a thin trickle of liquid down his neck as his scar reopened.

Hemanaged to tame his anger just enough to keep from rushing him.Instead, he followed the group at a distance for a while, waiting forhis opportunity. He overheard something about a camping trip andsomething about training. Interesting. He would have to make a mentalnote of it. However, right now, he had other things on his mind.

Theopportunity finally came when a few of the students rushed ahead todrool over some restaurant while she stayed behind, digging in herbag for her wallet. They ran off ahead, yelling at her to catch upand complaining about hunger. He heard her laugh and tell them she’dbe there in a minute, she just needed a second to get some cash out.She was alone. It was time.

Hecame up behind her, placing his hand on her shoulder, doing his bestto mask his voice.

“Hey,you’re one of those kids from UA, right? You’re practically famous!Do you think I could get an autograph?”

Hefelt her stiffen underneath his hold. She knew something was off, ashiver rolling down her spine as she tried to turn and look at him.He was just out of the reach of her peripheral, hair and hood hidinghis features.

“Y-yeah,I am.” She raised her hand as if to pry him off, but thought betterof it. “If you’ll just let me go for a second, I’ll get in my bagand get out a pen and some paper.”

Hervoice was on edge, her shoulder muscles clenching. He couldn’t helpbut smile again.

“Isaw you compete in the sports festival. You came in fourth, right? Itwas so cool. I bet yougot so many offers from agencies. I bet everyone wants you to betheir hero.” Hecould feel her breathing getting more shallow, feel her neck flex asshe swallowed.

“I-um-Sir,I don’t really feel comfortable being touched by people I don’t know,but if you’ll remove your hand, I’ll get you an autograph or apicture if you want.”

Sir. Shehad called him sir. Itwas adorable. He wanted to hear it again.

“Inoticed you got your costume fixed too. I liked better it the otherway, but that way is fine too.” He chuckled. “Hey, you’re alittle tense. It’s okay, we’re friends, remember?”

Realizationhit her like a truck. She inhaled, biting her lip as she turned herhead as much as she could in his direction. “Shigaraki!”

Heleaned down, perching his head on her shoulder. “Careful, you don’twant to make a scene. All Might might not be busy this time, butthere certainly a lot of civilians around. A lot of your friends too.I’d hate for something to happen.”

“Whatdo you want?” She snarled, making a slight effort to jerk away. Hedidn’t let her.

“Ijust want to talk. Is that so bad? Or are you too cool nowto catch up with an old friend?”

“Weare not friends!”Growling, she reached up and dug her fingernails into his wrist.

Hegiggled. She had certainly gotten more feisty since their lastmeeting. “That’s not a very nice thing to say. I thought we hit itoff pretty well.

Beforeshe could respond, the same blonde classmate came running towardsthem from inside of the nearby building. Shigaraki sneered,tightening his grip on her shoulder in warning. He was no doubtcoming back for her.

“Hey!We got a table and be-Woah! Who’s this guy?” The kid stopped a bitshort of them, shifting between looking at her in confusion andpeering suspiciously at him.

Shigarakileaned further in and whispered under his breath. “Unless the nexttime you want to see him is in an urn, I suggest you get ridof him. Quickly.”

Shepulled herself together, smiling happily while waving at him. “It’scool, Denki. He’s an old friend.” A sly smirk pulled at Tomura’smouth. “We ran into each other and thought we’d catch up a bit.Don’t wait up! I’ll meet you guys there!”

Denkicontinued looking back and forth between the two of them, eyeslingering on Shigaraki for a brief moment before retreating. “Okay,then. I’ll save you a spot. Don’t take too long or I’ll eat your foodtoo!”

Asthey watched him walk back into the restaurant, Tomura hummed.“You’re certainly a good actress. If I hadn’t known better, Iwouldn’t believe you were lying.”

“Saywhat you need to say and then leave.” She hissed quietly.

“Walkforward and turn into that alleyway on your left.” He gripped herwith his hand, careful to leave his middle finger levitating.

“Likehell! You think I’m just going to walk into a dark alleyway with theleader of the league of villains? You’ll kill me!”

“Youdon’t have a choice, hero. Assuming that’s what I’m planning, it’seither you or everyone else in this area, starting with Denki.”He began walking, shoving her forward lightly. “And if I startfeeling anything funny, I’ll dust youfirst and then move on to them.”

Sheexhaled in defeat, shuffling her feet forward as Shigaraki steeredher toward the desolate alcove. That rendered her quirk completelyuseless. Shigaraki would know if she was trying to use it on him, andshe didn’t want to test his promise. She had no doubt in her mindthat he wouldn’t hesitate.

Thatdidn’t mean she couldn’t get the drop on him though.

Remember your training. Duck andjab. Get out of his reach!

Notquite halfway down the passageway, she ducked and lurched back,sending her elbow careening into his stomach. He grunted in pain ashe was driven back several feet away from her, taken too much bysurprise to bring his hand down. She turned to face him, readying herdefensive stance as he recovered from the blow.

“Thisagain?” He wheezed, rolling his neck.

“I’mnot going down without a fight!”

Sighing,he straightened his back and held his hands up. “Have it your way,then.”

Shesent a few punches his direction but he dodged the brunt of them,only landing one on his injured shoulder. It was exponentiallystronger than the last time they met, enough to send him reelingbackwards while grabbing at his weakened limb. He coughed a fewtimes, quickly evading her other jabs.

“You’vebeen practicing.” He noted.

“Itrain with Midnight every week in hand to hand combat to keep peoplelike you away!” She sent another loaded punch towards his face,which he easily sidestepped.

“Lookslike it’s going well.” He deadpanned, seeming unimpressed. “I’mgetting bored.”

Sheignored his prodding, sending a few low kicks to his shins. Hebrought his own foot up, catching on the back of her knee andyanking, sending her toppling to the ground. She growled infrustration, pushing herself away from where he stood and standingback up, immediately taking stance again. She charged him one lasttime, sending her leg on a collision course with his hip in the hopesto knock him aside, but he simply raised his arms, catching her legand holding it.

Hereyes widened as she began to lose balance, but before she could fallagain, he slammed her into the wall closest her back using her ownleg as leverage. She cried out, letting her guard down. He used theopportunity to move on her, pressing against her and pushing herfurther into the brick as one hand slid up from her calf to herthigh,never relinquishing its grip, while the other calmly wrappedaround her neck, middle finger flexing.

Hecould feel her erratic breathing. She had lost to him not once, buttwice now, and it barely even took any effort on his part. Herfrightened eyes searched underneath his hair, but it was too shadowedbeneath his hood to see much of anything. All she could make out washis teeth, visible underneath his simpering lips.

“Quietnow. Your little outburst is bound to have attracted attention.” Heplaced his forehead to hers, leaning forward slightly to cover herface in a curtain of his hair. She tried to pull away, but hetightened his grip on her neck “Unless you want a whole lot ofnice people to die, you’ll playalong.” He pressed her harder into the alley wall, crushing herbody with his. He hiked her thigh up around his own and held it therewith the hand that still had a grasp on it, maneuvering his hipsbetween her now open legs.

Shemade a sound of disgust, trying again to turn from him, but he dughis fingernails into her thigh, eliciting a shocked gasp from her.Through the tendrils of his hair, she could see a few curious peoplebeginning to peak into the alley entrance, drawn by the sounds oftheir fighting. He pushed his face so close to hers that she couldfeel him smile.

“You’renot making this very convincing.” He whispered. “All it wouldtake is one little touchand I could dust them all.”

Sheswallowed hard, closing her eyes and preparing herself for what shehad to do. Slowly, she raised her arms up over Shigaraki’s shoulders,one hand resting uneasily on the back of his neck, the other tanglingup into his hair. She let her leg rest up in his hand instead ofsquirming, wrapping her knee around his thigh and relaxing her stanceso it appeared more natural.

Shigarakiwas absolutely not a fan of being touched. In fact, casual brushes inthe street were often grounds for a permanent ashing. But this? Oh,he could make an exception for this.

“Goodgirl. Show them that it’s just two lovers in an alleyway, looking fora little privacy.”He could smell her again, that scent he’d been dying for, trying sohard to emulate over the past few months. His heart rate was reachingpeak levels, but the blood was beginning to divert away from hisbrain. He couldn’t help himself. He ground into her a little bit, thefront of his jeans scraping against her body as he rutted, feelingthe warmth of her body.

“You’redespicable.” She seethed, swallowing down a wretch.

Hegiggled, letting his thumb run small circles over her exposed thigh.“Prove how heroic you are, Hero. Convinceme these people don’t deserve what I could do to them.”  

Hepushed his mouth to hers, instantly trying to snake his tongue intoher mouth. At first she was unresponsive, until he brought thefingers on her neck together and clasped at a necklace she had beenwearing. It crumbled instantaneously, sending a splay of ash downonto her chest. Almost immediately, she allowed him access, pliantlyopening her lips for him to invade and slowly responding to hisministrations.

Shetasted like she smelled, and it took every ounce of self control hehad not to push her further. Although her movements wereunenthusiastic and light, it didn’t matter to him. It was still her. He could feel every last bit of her body pressed against his own,every movement and muscle. Every curve she offered up to him and himalone and it was just like how he had imagined it would be in thedreams that had haunted his few dreaming hours ever since their firstmeeting.

Shigarakihad certainly not woken up that morning with the belief that he wouldhave his tongue shoved halfway down her throat that day. If he had,he likely would have been in a much more amicable mood. Right now, hefelt absolutely ecstatic. Hehad her right where he wanted her. Well, not rightwhere, but close enough. She was submitting to him because he knewher weakness. He wondered, in time, how far he could push thatweakness. How far was she willing to go?

But hewas nothing if not a strategist. He wouldn’t push it too far toofast. He wouldn’t risk it. He would chip away at her resolve slowly,breaking away her boundaries one at a time until there was nothingleft but her submission. If it meant threatening her friends, herfamily, random children on the street, he didn’t care. She wouldbe his. He decided that a longtime ago. She belonged to him, and frankly he didn’t really care whatshe had to say about it. It wasn’t her decision.

Eventually,the last of the onlookers had left, leaving behind a handful ofheckles from teenagers and reprimands from angry parents usheringtheir children away while covering their eyes. Her hand was yankingat his hair erratically, not in lust but in a likely plead for him toback off of her finally. He gave himself a minute longer, cherishingthe moment before withdrawing himself, unable to stop the grin thatcrawled up his face.

“See?It’s not so bad now, it is? You just saved all thoseidiot’s lives and all it took was a few minutes.”

Shecouldn’t stop herself. Her hands were shaking in rage, stomachchurning. She’d never felt so violated. Soutterly disgusted. Shecould taste him in the back of her throat and feel his leftoversaliva on her lips and it made her want to vomit.

Shelooked directly up at him, and spit in his face. It landed with in anundignified blob sliding down his cheek.

Ittook Shigaraki a moment to fully register what happened. He unhandedher leg, bringing it up to his face and squelching the small plop ofliquid between his fingers. Slowly, he raised his head up, finallygiving her a full view of his face for the first time.

Sheimmediately regretted her actions.

Helooked enraged, eyes open with beady pupils staring down at his hand.His cracked mouth was contorted in rage, snarling while rubbed threeof his fingers together, spreading the coating around. His eyesflashed up at hers, and his hand clamped down on her throat, fourthfinger twitching unsteadily.

“Youlittle brat.” He spat, tightening his grip more and more by thesecond until she could no longer breathe. “You think you’re allhigh and mighty, that just because you’re a Hero that there’s noconsequences for your actions. That you can treat people like trash.”His fingers dug in with bruising strength, and the longer he heldthem, the more little black dots began dancing in front of hervision. Her chest was trying desperately to inhale, but she couldn’twith his palm crushing her windpipe. Fear welled up inside her, andthe longer she struggled for breath, the more overpowering it became.“I can show you how wrong you are.”

“I-I’mSo-orry!” She croaked out, pleading with him for air. His eyesflashed dangerously, and he loosened his grip only enough that hecould make out her words.

“Speakup. I can’t hear you.”

“I’msorry! It was-” Her mind raced, searching for the right words toplacate him. “It was rude of me, and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t havedone it. I beg your forgiveness, Shigaraki. Please forgive me!”

He lethis hand sit firm for a few more seconds. He was still twitching withanger, but something about hearing her beg, beg him forforgiveness sent a wave of pleasure through him. Of course she wasgoing to be defiant at first. He could forgive her this once. Afterall, she would be making it up to him in the end regardless.

Hesmiled down at her, ghosting his fingers on her neck as she coughedand sputtered, trying to catch her breath. “Just don’t do it again.I hate people with no manners.”

Sheshook her head, eyes bright and fearful. After that, she didn’t daretry using her quirk on him or bothering to fight him again. She wasentirely at his mercy. This guy was insane. He didn’t even need touse his quirk to kill her. He would just suffocate her and leave herbody in the alley way. What was his deal? Was he still harboring agrudge from their last encounter? Why was he here now?

Finally regaining her breath, she peered up at him hesitantly, studying hisface. “Did you follow me here?”

Heseemed taken back for a minute, before chuckling a little underneathhis breath. “Follow you here? No. I was actually here for acompletely separate reason and just happened to run into you. Isn’tthat lucky?”

“Yeah.Lucky.” She grunted, lamenting her choices. She knew she shouldhave stayed in bed today

“Iwas actually about to grab Midoriya when I saw you. I just couldn’thelp myself.”

Shefurrowed her brows. “But why?” She didn’t understand what thisman wanted with her. He didn’t seem to outright want her dead, butwasn’t content letting her live in peace either.

He letout a heinous cackle, letting three of his fingers on his free handwander up to his neck and scratch. Why was he telling her any ofthis? “I guess I just find you intriguing.” He tore at his neckanxiously for a moment while she stared at him. The way she waslooking at him was making him feel itchy and hot all over. Underneathhis hoody, he felt like it was one hundred degrees, which given theweather, might not have been far off. He felt uncomfortable in hisown skin, anxious, stomach twisting in knots. He hated thatshe had this control over him.

Hepulled his hand away from his sweating neck, reaching up to touch herface once more. He wanted to feel her skin, how soft it was. Justwanted to graze his fingers across her face so he could remember howshe felt even after she’d gone. However, when he raised it up by herhead, the sleeve of his jacket rode up his arm, revealing the pieceof cloth he had tied around his wrist.

Immediatelyher eyes were drawn to it, and she gulped hard, a horrifiedexpression etched on her features. “Is that… Is that my…”

Shigarakirealized what had spooked her. Tied around his wrist was theunmistakable pattern of her costume, ripped from her torso during theattack on U.S.J. His eyes darkened. There was no sense in lying toher now.

“Yourecognize it, huh?” He lowered his hand down, bringing it betweenboth of their faces. “I’ve kept it on me since.”

Herbreathing became inconsistent and staggered, mouth agape in terror.“W-why?”

Heleaned in again, scraping the cloth against her neck, hoping tosiphon some of her scent back onto it. “I think it helps keep mefocused.”

Hervision spiraled. She could ignore a few consistencies but this wasall to much to be a coincidence. Something she had done had gottenhis attentions enough to keep it on her, even endear herself to himin some twisted way. He wasn’t just doing this because it made heruncomfortable or to spite her like she initially thought. If shedidn’t know better, she would say it was something resembling acrush.

“S-Shigaraki,I don’t-” She cut herself off. What could she possibly say? ’Heysupervillain, not interested?’ 'Thanks for the flattery but I’m ahero?’ Our careers kind of make it impossible for us to be togetherbut thanks for the interest?

It didn’t reallymatter, she had a feeling he wasn’t interested in her opinion on thematter.

“You’reeverything I hate, you know.” His voice was soft, gentle even. Hehad hidden his eyes behind his hair again, and despite refusing tomove away from her, he seemed a few miles off. “You heroes. Youpiss me off. If I had my way, I would have killed every one of youthe first time we crossed paths.” There was a distant cold in hisvoice that made her shiver. “I wanted to. Kill you. It would havebeen easy too. All I had to do is wrap my fingers around your prettylittle neck and squeeze and you’d have been gone before you couldeven scream for help. I bet that really would have thrown one over anAll Might too. One of his precious students turned to dust while hewas in the same room. Sometimes I think I should have.”

There was nodeception in his voice. He was telling the truth. Somehow itterrified her more than when he had gotten violent. He lowered hishand back down, grabbing her chin with his thumb and index finger.

“But I havebetter ideas now. There are worse things than death.” Helifted his head, and she felt her soul plummet. His eyes were manicand deranged, boring down into her with the promise of unknownhorror. His smile was wide and frenzied, nearly breaking his crackedlips into shards all over again. There was a strange flush across hispallid cheeks, something almost akin to a blush, like he wasflustered even thinking about it.

She wanted to cry.She wanted to crawl away. Find a rock somewhere and hide under it,anywhere where he couldn’t find her. Something told her he wasn’tsaying this just to frighten her. The possibilities that could runthrough a madman’s mind were things she didn’t want to consider.Things that he considered worse than death were beyond the realm ofwhat she wanted to realize herself. He placed another soft kiss toher mouth, and she was too paralyzed in fear to stop him.

He looked like hewas about to speak when Denki’s voice rang through the alley way.“Hey, what gives? We’ve been waiting forever!” Both she andTomura turned their heads toward the entrance to see Denki standingthere with a beaming smile, eyes closed and holding up several bagsof food in his closed hands. “We didn’t wait for ya, but we got youleftovers! Took us forever to find you! What the hell are you doingdown here anyway?” He opened his eyes and nearly dropped the food,face red with embarrassment as a few of her classmates crowded aroundas well with equally shocked expressions.

“Someone’sgetting’ some.” Eijiro whispered to a blushing Mina who wasgiggling behind her hand. Momo scowled over at the pair, giving thema death glare.

“Are weinterrupting something?” Fumikage asked, trying to be as polite aspossible in the given situation.

“I didn’t realizeyou were with so many people!” Shigaraki immediately withdrew hishands, stepping away from her but taking care to keep his faceshadowed. “Sorry about that. I didn’t mean to keep you held up.”

Eijiro chuckled athis words and she felt like she could just die.

“I’m off then. Itwas nice catching up. Don’t worry, we’ll see each other soon!” Hespoke loud enough for them to hear before he leaned inconspicuouslyand whispered in her ear. “If any of you follow me, I’ll get angry.I’d hate to kill half his class without All Might here to see it.”

He started walkingbut stopped short a few seconds later. “Oh! One last thing, hero.”He pulled her in close to his side, hands fishing his phone out ofhis pocket. “You promised me a picture.” He held his phone up,getting one snapshot with her in frame. Although his features werestill almost entirely hidden behind his hair, she was completelyexposed, expression like a deer in headlights. It would do for now.He placed his phone back in his pockets, giving her one last lookbefore turning away and ambling off down further into the alleyway,turning out of her sights after a few seconds.

“Aren’t you goingto introduce us to your friend?” Mina called, still giggling behindher palm.

“No!” She shookher head vigorously, trying to hold back the tears and the sick thatwere clawing their way up her throat, acting as natural as she could.“Look, can we just get out of here? Please?”

Her friends alllooked at her confused for a moment, shrugging before following heras she took off.

As he heard theirvoices drift further and further off, Shigaraki brought his fingersup to his lips, grazing where hers had been. He still tasted her, andhe was trying to savor every moment. He didn’t know for sure how longit would be until she was in his arms again, only that she would be.He needed to calm down. He needed to be patient.

He forced himselfdown the streets and passageways away from the mall, farther from herbut thinking of nothing but all the while. His head didn’t feel anyclearer, if anything it felt more clouded and stimulated than it hadbefore, but he was fine with that. He didn’t get to ask Midoriya whatthe difference between him and Stain was, but that mattered little tohim now. There would be other opportunities for that. He did cursehimself as he remembered he had forgotten to pick up his game, but heshrugged it off. If his estimates were correct, it wouldn’t beavailable for much longer anyway.

The sun sank behindthe horizon, giving way to the darkness of the night sky. When hefelt secure enough, he placed Father back on his face, making his wayback home under the cover of shadow. His body was shivering, but notfrom the cold. He could hardly believe anything that happened today.

When he finallyturned the knob to enter the bar, Kurogiri immediately turned towardshim in a panic.“Tomura Shigaraki, is all well? The mall youattended today has been shut down. I was worried that you weredetained and perhaps incarcerated.”

“Don’t be stupid,Kurogiri. I’m right here.” He lumbered over to the bar, sittinghalf-haphazardly in the seat. Kurogiri decided it was better not toquestion him, opting to pour him a drink instead. He turned towardsthe TV, which was playing news footage of the mall, giving minimaldetails about the incident but describing a notorious villain spottedthere. “So she told.” He muttered under his breath, smirking. “Ifigured she would.”

Kurogiri heard hiswords, but decided it would go against his mental health to questionTomura on the incident if it was indeed what he thought it was.Revealing his face would have far reaching consequences for theleague. Judging by the way he was lovingly picking at the rattedmaterial tied around his wrist, he had found that girl again. So hisobsession hadn’t in fact died. This would not bode well.

The rest of thenight continued on relatively average. Tomura drank and cussed andranted about All Might and the Hero Killer Stain, staring down at hisphone in the intervals. Kurogiri polished his glasses, offeringadvice where he could and bearing the brunt of Tomura’s abuses whenhe couldn’t. It almost gave him hope that maybe Shigaraki could putthis whole incident behind him instead of obsessing over it like heoften did.

That is, until mostof the way through the night, Tomura stumbled off the bar stool,clinging onto the counter as he shambled towards his room in theback. He paused momentarily, turning to face Kurogiri for a fewseconds before slamming his door.

“Hey Kurogiri,you know those old storage rooms we have? I need them cleaned out.We’ll be having a guest soon. I want to make sure she’s comfortable.”

[komotionlessqueenmm]

One man's trash, is another man's treasure.

(2-4)

Short story # 6

2,442 - Words

Fandom - House of Wax (2005)

Pairing - Bo Sinclair X Reader

Summary - The reader finds herself & her 4 month old son stranded in Ambrose. While Bo finds himself enamored with the woman, wanting nothing more than to protect and provide for the two of them.

Warnings - Some dark topics, talk of abusive relationships, eventual blood & death, eventual smut. (I'm not sure what else tbh)

Notes - Italics means the reader is singing.

Pt. 1 ~ Pt. 2 ~ Pt. 3 ~ Pt. 4

----

"You go relax in the living room while I call my brother, I'll only be a minute." Bo instructed as they walked into his house. "Okay." (Y/n) smiled as she cradled Von in her arms, having left his stroller on the porch. Bo walked into the kitchen, calling his brother to pick up (Y/n)'s jeep. While (Y/n) walked into the living room, idly scanning the pictures hanging on the walls. (Y/n) sat down on the couch with a content sigh, gently patting Von's butt in an attempt to keep the baby asleep. Von's soft breathing and the gentle patting of (Y/n)'s hand were the only sounds in the room, that is until Bo walked back into the room. "He should be here within the next hour, I'm gonna go change outta this suit real quick." Bo explained pointing behind him to the stairs, already tugging at his tie. "Okay." (Y/n) smiled with a nod of her head, turning her attention back to Von when Bo started walking upstairs.

A short five minutes passed before Bo came back down the stairs, changed from his suit, to a mechanics jumpsuit. "So can I ask? What was with the suit?" (Y/n) wondered aloud, as Bo walked into the living room, taking a seat in a recliner he began slipping on his boots. "I was at a funeral." Bo explained as he tied his laces. "Oh I'm sorry for your loss." (Y/n) gave her condolences. "Thank you." Bo smiled softly. "It's getting pretty late, is there somewhere in town I could stay?" (Y/n) asked as she looked out the window, the sun low in the sky. "You can stay here if you'd like." Bo offered. "Oh you're too kind, but I don't want to be a burden." (Y/n) genuinely hated feeling like a burden on people. "Nonsense I've got plenty of room, and the extra company would be nice." Bo insisted, making (Y/n) smile softly. "Alright... Would it be alright if I got a shower real quick? Sitting out in the suns got me all sweaty and gross." Bo chuckled alongside her, nodding his head. "Of course, I'll show ya to the spare bedroom." Bo rose from his chair, leading (Y/n) upstairs and to the right. "Here ya go, there's a small bathroom attached." He pointed to the bathroom door after escorting (Y/n) inside. "Thank you, I shouldn't be to long." (Y/n) smiled as she sat the diaper bag onto the small bed, gently laying Von down a moment later. "I'll wait for ya down in the living room." Bo hummed as he closed the door, leaving (Y/n) be.

When the warm water hit (Y/n)'s back she sighed in content, the sore muscles of her back relaxing under the heat. Allowing herself a moment to soak up the warmth, (Y/n) closed her eyes and hummed softly under her breath. As if with the flip of a switch however, (Y/n)'s eyes snapped open and she quickly set to work cleaning herself up. However just as she was rising off, Von began crying from the bedroom. In an instant (Y/n) cut off the water and wrapped a towel around her body, droplets of water still rolling down her legs as she exited the bathroom. "See there's mama." Bo cooed at Von, cradling the fussing baby in his arms. "I hope I didn't overstep my boundaries, I was just down the hall when he started crying, and I wanted to make sure he was okay." Bo explained as he stood from the bed, handing Von over to (Y/n). "No no it's alright, I appreciate it actually." (Y/n) shook her head with a small smile. "He's just fussy because he hasn't eaten yet, I didn't want to wake him earlier." (Y/n) sat on the edge of the bed, pulling down part of her towel to allow Von to feed. "Oh I understand completely, I get pretty grumpy when I'm hungry to." Bo joked turning his attention to the floor, not wanting to make (Y/n) uncomfortable by accidentally staring. "Don't we all." (Y/n) chuckled softly.

"I was getting this for the little guy when he started crying." Bo changed the subject, allowing himself a moment to distract himself. "Oh that's so cute!" (Y/n) gushed at the sight of the antic cradle Bo had brought into the room. "I almost forgot about it, it's an old family cradle, been passed down several generations." Bo explained as he laid a clean blanket inside it. "Thank you Bo, you've been so kind to me, I don't think I could thank you enough." (Y/n)'s eyes became a little glossy, a smile spread across her lips. "It's my pleasure, but it ain't nothing to cry over." Bo knelt in front of (Y/n) rubbing away the stray tear that escaped her eye. "Oh I know, it's such a silly thing to cry over. It's just the passed month has been so hard, and you and Lester have been so sweet to me. It's silly I know, but I can't help it." (Y/n) chuckled through her tears, sniffling softly. "You're all on your own aren't ya?" Bo asked with a small frown, the frown deepening when (Y/n) nodded her head. "Where's the father?" Bo asked. "It's kinda a long story." (Y/n) wiped away her tears with a bitter chuckle. "Is he dead, or a deadbeat?" Bo asked bluntly. "A deadbeat of the worst kind." (Y/n) sighed. "That's a shame." Bo shook his head, raising from his kneeled position. "I'll leave ya be." He muttered softly. "I'll be waiting in the living room when you're done up here." Bo added as he exited the room, leaving (Y/n) to finish feeding Von, and allowing her to change in some privacy.

Having changed into the sweats and a tank top, (Y/n) always kept in the diaper bag. (Y/n) carried Von downstairs, smiling at Bo when she entered the living room. "Ready to go back to the garage?" Bo asked as he stood from the couch. "We're as ready as we'll ever be." (Y/n) hummed, following Bo when he went to the front door. "(Y/n)." Bo called out to her as she strapped Von into the stroller. "Yes Bo?" She tilted her head a little, having turned her attention to him. "I'm sorry about asking about Von's father, that wasn't very polite." Bo rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty for bringing up such a touchy subject. "It's okay Bo, you were only curious." (Y/n) assured him with a smile. "I don't really mind talking about it, but if someone comes around asking about me, I'd really appreciate it if you forgot about me." She admitted feeling just at ease around Bo as she had around Lester. "He's that bad huh?" Bo wondered aloud with a frown. "Worse." (Y/n) swallowed thickly, dread pooling within her belly. "Well as long as you're here, I won't let anything happen to you." Bo promised, easing (Y/n)'s worry.

"Alrighty lets have a look." Bo mused as they entered the garage, popping the hood to the jeep. "Your brother didn't stick around huh?" (Y/n) stated the obvious as she looked around the garage. "He's not much of a people person, due to a birth defect he's suffering from." Bo explained as he worked. "Oh." (Y/n) felt a bit guilty. "Well he likes people, but people don't really like him much. So he avoids them." Bo shrugged casually. "People always fear what they don't understand." (Y/n) murmured without much thought, unknowingly peaking Bo's interest even more. "He'd like you." Bo mused with a small smile, despite not having the best relationship with his brother, Bo still cared for him. "You think so?" (Y/n) smiled at the thought. "Yeah, what's not to like?" Bo winked at her, chuckling when she ducked her head to hide her blush.

"Hold on..." Bo muttered under his breath, as he checked the oil. "I thought you said you changed the oil last week." Bo frowned in confusion. "I did." (Y/n) mirrored his confusion. "It's bone dry." Bo informed her, moving further under the hood to get a better look at the oil reserve. "I think I see the problem." Bo moved to grab a flashlight, looking to where he suspected the problem was. "What is it?" (Y/n) asked as she walked over to peer at the engine. "It looks like someone put a hole in the bottom of the reserve, the oil just leaked out over time." Bo explained, his assessment making (Y/n) worry again. "Trent my ex... It had to be him." (Y/n)'s voice cracked as the panic set in. "Hey hey hey don't worry about it, as long as you're here you're safe, I won't let him get to you." Bo promised as he wiped his hands with a shop rag, pulling (Y/n) into a comforting hug after he deemed his hands clean. "He tried to kill me Bo, when he found out I was pregnant he attacked me and tried to kill me." (Y/n) wept into his chest. "I won't let him near you." Bo growled protectively, holding her just a little tighter. "I've been running from him for the past month, I just know he's gonna try finding me." (Y/n) shook in Bo's arms, raked with fear. "He won't find you." Bo promised as he pulled her back to look into her eyes, wiping away her tears. "You are safe here." Bo emphasized each word, smiling at her softly when she stopped shaking. "Thank you." (Y/n) sniffled with a smile, leaning up she kissed Bo's cheek, then turned her attention back to Von, smiling down at the sight of him sleeping soundly. "How about we leave this until tomorrow morning?" Bo pointed to the jeep, a dopey grin on his face from the kiss. "Let's go eat some dinner and relax for a bit." He suggested casually. "That sounds like a good idea." (Y/n) nodded her head in agreement, giggling when her stomach grumbled at the mention of food.

"Let me help." (Y/n) insisted as she joined Bo in the kitchen. "I'd appreciate the help." Bo smiled as he gathered everything they'd need to cook a nice hardy meal. "Well it is the least I can do, after all you've done for me and Von." (Y/n) smiled as she set to work, the pair working alongside eachother with natural ease. "(Y/n)." Bo called out softly after a few minutes, smiling when (Y/n) hummed in response. "I just wanted to say... You're a real good mother." Bo admitted, making (Y/n) drop what she was holding. "You really mean that?" She asked with wide eyes. "Of course." Bo nodded his head, being perfectly honest with her. "Thank you, you don't know how much that means to me." (Y/n)'s eyes were bright with pure joy, making Bo's heart melt a little. They continued to work in a comfortable silence, nearly finishing their task before Bo struck up conversation again. "So what do you do for a living?" He asked casually. "I'm an author actually." (Y/n) mused. "Anything I might read?" Bo asked with genuine curiosity. "Only if you enjoy horror stories, I'm looking to be the next H. P. Lovecraft." (Y/n) beamed with pride, her words making Bo chuckle. "I think I'd enjoy reading your work." Bo admitted, making (Y/n) beam even brighter.

--

The following morning (Y/n) and Bo went back to the garage bright and early. "You don't have to sit around down here with me you know." Bo pointed out to (Y/n) who had perched herself upon the gas stations counter. "I know, but I thought you could use the company." (Y/n) mused as she rocked Von's stroller back and forth with her foot, her journal on her lap. "I'll admit the company is nice, but the view is even better." Bo flirted with a wink, making (Y/n) giggle softly. "I have to agree, the view is very nice." (Y/n) quipped right back with a cheeky grin, her words making Bo laugh.

Subconsciously as she wrote (Y/n) began humming a melody, which eventually led to her singing softly. "You are what you are. I don't matter to anyone. But Hollywood legends. Will never grow old. And all of what's hidden. Well, it will never grow cold." Bo stilled in what he was doing, focusing on (Y/n). "But I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz. When I've got those blues. And I lost myself when I lost you. And I still get trashed, darling. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) relaxed a little, singing a little louder. "But you are who you are. I won't change you for anything. For when you are crazy. I'll let you be bad. I'll never dare change thee. To what you are not." Bo moved to lean against the doorway leading into the gas station, watching (Y/n) with a pleasant grin. "But I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz. When I've got those blues. I lost myself and I lost you too. And I still get trashed, baby. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) continued writing away, almost in a daze. "I put the radio on. Hold you tight in my mind. Isn't strange that. You're not here with me. But I know the light's on in the television. Trying to transmit, can you hear me. Ground control to Major Tom. Can you hear me all night long. Ground control to Major Tom." Von stirred a little in his sleep, but remained asleep. "Well I lost myself when I lost you. But I still got jazz when I've got the blues. I lost myself and I lost you too. And I still get trashed, honey. When I hear your tunes." (Y/n) smiled to herself as she hummed the melody out. "Are you sure you don't sing professionally?" Bo asked when she finished humming. "I'm sure." (Y/n) chuckled, flattered by his words. "Maybe you should." He winked before turning his attention back to her car, his words making (Y/n)'s heart swoon.

----

Woof Bo is really getting out of character...

Oh well! That's the beauty of fanfiction.

Anyways part two is complete!

Let me know what you think. （＾_＾）

PS the song (Y/n) was singing is Terrence Loves You by Lana Del Rey.

[syrups-fanfic-cafe]

Introduction

Hello! You may have known me as @/Syrups-Writing-corner, and well, you might know what has happened to it. But, I’m back again, this time with a cafe theme and a new blog (cause tumblr staff won’t give me my blog back). Things will be the same as last time, but, I’ll still remake this pinned with everything for anybody who’s forgotten.

About Mod Syrup

Mod Syrup is fine!

I am adult, but I still dk how nsfw will go

I’m a Fundanshi, Himedanshi, Profic, and Anti-hara!

Selfship friendly

Currently questioning gender, probably pangender though, any pronouns besides she/her

Aspiring Mangaka

My Ao3’s are ApathicAuthor (Non-problematic writing), and ProblematicApathic (Problematic Writing).

All my headcanons and imagines will be archived to this book right here. If you want to find my past headcanons from my previous blog, they are also kept there.

What I will write:

Headcanons

Imagines/short fics

Problematic dynamics

Yandere

Canon x canon

Canon x reader

Canon x reader x canon

NSFW/Smut (again idk how well it'll go but I can t r y)

What I won’t write:

Angst without Comfort (angst with comfort is ok)

Things like S/H, Suicide, and Domestic Abuse (will write comfort and recovery headcanons/fics for said topics)

Real Person Fiction/Stuff involving real people

Parasites

Drug Use/Abuse

Anything I find especially gross or unsanitary.

Crossover ships (I now have a separate blog for that

Fandoms I will write for (bold is sources I’m confident writing, italics is sources I’m embarrassed writing, but will still happily write for):

Angels of Death

Animal Crossing

Afterl!fe (yes, even if the fandoms kinda dead)

Baldi’s Basics (+ mod/fangame characters)

Bendy and The Ink Machine

BFDI/BFB

Boyfriend to Death (Both 1 and 2)

Break In (Roblox)

Bugsnax

Cookie run (Both Ovenbreak and Kingdom)

Creepypasta

Danganronpa (all main games + UDG, No fangans)

Deltarune

Doki Doki Literature Club

Doors (Roblox)

Dream SMP (Characters, never the streamers)

Eddsworld

Five Nights At Freddy’s series + Fangames

Friday Night Funkin + Mods

Genshin Impact

Happy Tree friends

Hazbin Hotel

Helluva Boss

Henry Stickmin Series

HLVRAI

Homestuck

Huniepop (both 1 and 2)

Identity V

Inanimate insanity

Madness Combat

Monster Prom

Mortal Combat

My Little Pony

MyStreet

Obey Me! Shall We Date

Object Terror

Okegom

OHSHC

ONE

Rainbow Friends (Roblox)

Roblox Myths

Riddle School

Saints Rows series

SCP Foundation

Smile For Me

Sonic Series

South Park

Sr Pelo’s Spooky Month

Steven Universe

Tankmen Series

Telltales TWD Games

The Amazing Digital Circus

The Nightly Manor

Therapy With DR Albert Krueger

Undertale + Au’s

Vincent: Secret of Myers

Welcome Home

Yandere Sim

Your Turn To Die

Zardy’s Field

And more that I currently can’t remember :p

Note: if you do not see a source on this list, please ask me first if I write for it, as I only write for fandoms/sources I’m familiar with. Any requests for characters from sources that are not on the list will be deleted.

Blacklist:

Abia from Huniepop

AloeCy/ Aloe Cookie x Cyborg

Romantic Carol x Whitty/Wharol

RaspRose/ Raspberry mousse cookie x Rose cookie

Romantic Bad x Sapnap

Romantic Ruv x Sarv

Sarah from Huniepop

Starving Artist Mod

Starecrown mod

DNI:

Anti/Fanpol

You condone harassment for any reason

Transmed/truscum/terf

Pro-Para

Pro-Consang

Pro-TransID

Any Radqueer/Radqueer adjacent labels

You participate in cancel culture or cringe culture.

Anyways, thank you for reading the pinned, and you can now request something from me!

[son-of-beast]

THINGS I’D LIKE MY RP PARTNERS TO KNOW

tagged by: @umbrx

tagging: nabi u already tagged nami when thats my job >:(

» I like to be called: Kittu but apparently people are calling me Yamato anyway so I guess I’m Yamato now.

» One  thing you should know about me:

Me shy sissy baby with ADHD. I have a hard time reaching out to other RP blogs sometimes, and it can take forever for me to respond because I will have hard times focusing on something a lot. Still, people think I’m a consistent writer some how? No idea but always come to me yes yes come to ME i want you in my inbox I want you in my DMs so I can bark at you and threaten to bite you. Come for my discord too I’m very talkative there. Come tell me about your OCs I want to see the-

» Things you should know about rping with my character(s): Yamato is a very strong muse so a lot of characters would have a hard time fighting him one to one, but I try to keep any fights interesting anyway even if his abilities are completely busted (thats just how it is to be a Yonko son with a mythical devil fruit). He is also a terrible alcoholic (although he tries to be better than his dad), and lots of themes of alcoholism and child abuse will surface when it comes to him. When I’m in that special spicy shitposting mood, Yamato can and will bark at you. He will get naked with no shame when it’s time to boil, and he can and will pick up your muse without a moment’s notice.

» Age range: under 13  |  14–17 | 18–22 | 23–25 | 26–29 | 30+ | 40+ | 70+  I also don’t know if this is for my age or for who I RP with, but I tend to RP with anyone over 18. Me 19, turn 20 in January.

» Okay with nsfw?: I’m asexual so I’m pretty grossed out/inexperienced with sex so I don’t really write explicit sexual scenes. That doesn’t mean I don’t imply it, I absolutely will. And I will still make sexual jokes or write sexual headcanons, literally I just won’t write out the sex scenes. I will also write gore, love me some gore.

» my favorite/most common thing to rp is: angst | fluff | smut | crack | action | plots | AUs | violence | darker themes | canon character | original characters | humor (Yeah baby I like to do it all. I just LOVE to write okay-)

*Bold for YEAH BABY, Italic for sometimes and strikethrough for im bad at it

» rp friendly?: I pretty friendly. As long as the blog has rules and a bio, and it’s a character I vaguely know about/have an interest in writing with, I’ll follow back. I’ll answer to anyone’s asks whether we mutuals or not, but I do the big plots and threads with da mutuals. I swear I don’t bite (I do). Love rp in general so yes come to me so I can bite you.

[tsukikento]

Empathetic Ch. 2

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

Summary: After your mom, the number 1 hero in America, gets offered a teaching position at U.A., you two pack up your things and head to Musutafu, Japan to start a new life. Pressure for you in America was at an all-time high, and now you're in Japan, where almost no one knows you, or your family's past.

This tale starts on your first day of class where your new teacher decides the best way for you to fit in is to fight against the strongest person in your class: Bakugou Katsuki.

Warnings/Genre: This piece will feature some angst and reference to an abusive parent, if you are ever worried about other tw’s feel free to send me an ask and I will let you know. There will also be fluff, slight angst, pining, and slowburn

A/N: This is also posted on ao3 under @allie_win. I’m transferring it over here, pls let me know if you like it! I love your comments! Just a note that any italics means thoughts.

(series masterlist)

~~

Aizawa-sensei had the class rearrange their desks to fit you into the equation. The rows were now 6 by 3, with 3 additional people sitting in their own 4th row. You felt bad that everyone had to move slightly to only accommodate you, but no one seemed too upset about it after seeing how well you fought today. You now sat by Iida, Kirishima, and Tsu who all assured you that no one was upset at moving seats. In fact, they all seemed happy to be able to sit by you.

Most of the class went by smoothly. You met a few other teachers, Present Mic and Midnight, who both greeted you excitedly. Everything ran smoothly, the class primarily focusing on textbook related terms like the police codes you might hear on the radio.

By the time lunch rolled around, Ashido had already invited you to sit with her and Hagakure during the lunch period. You happily accepted the offer and followed them to Lunch Rush Cafeteria.

“We don’t always sit together during lunch because sometimes Mina sits with Kirishima, I sit with Ojiro, or we both sit with the girls, but we wanted to make sure you were around good people at lunch today!” Toru explained as she grabbed food for lunch.

“And we assumed you didn’t really want to be around a bunch of people,” Ashido added as she grabbed a small slice of cake for dessert.

You nodded in appreciation and mumbled a small, “Thank you.”

They took you to a small table that could only fit the 3 of you and began giving you the run-down on everyone in the class.

“This is important information!” Ashido started. She shoved some rice into her mouth before pointing over at the purple-haired boy from before. You looked at him and then back at Ashido to see her quickly try and swallow the food. “That’s Mineta and he’s a total creep! Ugh, he is always trying to get into our pants, but it’s worse for Momo.” She gulped down a sip of water. “He clung onto her back during the obstacle course of the sports festival last year. Imagine not being able to get that pervert off you.”

“Why don’t you guys just report him?” You asked, watching disgustedly as he lingered around a group of girls you didn’t recognize. One of them looked like she was about to punch him in the face.

“He’s too smart,” Toru explained. “He’s one of the smartest people in our class and never does anything too gross in front of teachers. Make sure you keep your dorm room locked because he will sneak in and take your panties.”

Ashido and Hagakure both gagged at the thought.

Fuck. What a creep.

The girls continued on from there, pointing at everyone and explaining their quirk. Some were common quirks in America like Iida’s speed, although the engine aspect was new, and Kaminari’s electricity. Others were more creative like Momo’s and Tokoyami’s.

“Oh yeah! I saw Tokoyami during the sports festival. I thought his quirk was so cool!” You interrupted.

“It’s powerful too!” Mina added.

“Yeah,” You started, “I remember seeing how easily he beat everyone until Bakugou was able to figure out his weakness. That battle was tragic, yet also amazing.” You gestured your hands to match the excitement you originally felt when watching the match. “Honestly, Bakugou must have been really focused to realize Tokoyami’s weakness.”

Ashido and Hagakure laughed at your comment. “Don’t let him hear you, Y/N. It’ll just stroke his ego even more!” Mina commented.

You laughed with them, trying to push away how obviously impressed you were by Bakugou. “Yeah, you’re right.”

The three of you continued to chat until lunch was over and you needed to make your way back to class. When you got back to class, Aizawa was waiting inside for you and told you to come with him to see Mr. President.

Ashido and Hagakure’s shoulders brushed yours and you felt them worrying, so you flashed them a smile and grabbed their hands, activating your quirk to calm them down just slightly. “Don’t worry. This probably just has to do with my class placement.”

They smiled back at you and you let go of their hands before following Aizawa into the still bustling hallway. It quickly cleared out as the final bell rang and he began talking to you about your match that day.

“You worked very well today, but your quirk is too narrow when not with weapons. I’d like for us to focus on you using your quirk more offensively besides just making people fall asleep.” He commented.

You nodded, it was a comment your mom had given you time and time again. “Wait?” You looked up at him. “‘Us?’ Does that mean I’m in 1-A?”

“Would we really have rearranged the desks if you weren’t?” He questioned back.

You laughed at yourself sheepishly, “No, I guess not.”

By then, you arrived at Mr. President’s office and Aizawa knocked on the door. When it opened, you were only greeted by Mr. President this time.

“Welcome!” He greeted. “Please come in and take a seat.” You sat down along with Aizawa while Mr. President offered you each a cookie. Both of you declined. “So be it,” He said before eating up one of the cookies himself. The silence was awkward as you waited for him to finish. Once done, he looked up at you. “Y/N, congratulations on such a great first day. Aizawa told me you were able to beat Bakugou with no problem.”

“Oh,” You spoke, “Thank you, but it really was because he didn’t know my quirk. I’m sure if he did, he would have been able to avoid my sleeping touch.”

“Nonsense! Don’t sell yourself short!” Mr. The President insisted. “Anyways! I asked you here because I wanted to give you some extra time to get your things moved into the UA dorm. I know it will take some time to move your things so I got a cart for you that will help you carry more boxes.” He gestures over to a red cart in the corner of his office.

“Ah, thank you, Mr. President-sensei.” You bowed slightly to show your appreciation.

“No problem!” He smiled happily. “I hope you get accustomed quickly. Your dorms are in building 2-A, you can find it on this map.” He handed you a map of the school which you accepted graciously. “There are 5 floors, the first being recreational and the other 4 being dorms. You are on floor 4, and your room is number 6. There is a list of the dorm rules in your room so please make sure to read up on them before your classmates begin arriving later today.” He grabbed a key from a drawer in his desk and held it out for you.

You nodded again and took the key from him, making sure to be as formal as you could at this moment.

“Now, go ahead and get to it!” Mr. President announced cheerfully.

You quickly said your goodbyes and rushed out of the room with the red cart. You started on your way to your mom’s apartment, grabbing your phone and playing some music you could dance to that also had quick tempos to keep you moving.

Most of your things were already in the box, so you would only have to spend time packing the box that held everything you used in the last three days. Once back, you quickly grabbed a few boxes to pile onto your cart. You aimed for getting almost everything over by the time your classmates were done. That gave you approximately 2 and a half hours till they were done in class. It took you 10 minutes to get all the way to your room from the apartment as well as another 10 minutes to get back so you hoped you would be able to finish in time.

You moved as quickly as you could, piling the boxes onto your floor, desk, and bare mattress. Once you had every box here, you could spend the rest of your time today reorganizing. You heard the elevator ding just as you were exiting your room to head back for your last trip.

Out walked Bakugo who looked up at you before quickly looking away and walking into the room across from yours.

God, I must look like a mess, you thought as you hopped onto the elevator. You were rather sweaty and had to put your hair up into a ponytail. After your third trip, you realized you needed to change and keep your school clothes clean. You were wearing an old sweatshirt that was your brothers and practically swallowed you up and well as a pair of athletic shorts and sneakers.

You looked in the blurry metal reflection of the elevator to see flyaways from your ponytail, a few old bruises on your legs, and the mascara you wore that day flaking off and onto your cheeks. You quickly brushed away the black specs and fixed your hair the best you could. The elevator opened and you walked out with the cart, heading back to the apartment.

Honestly, you wished your interactions with Bakugo today had gone better. You didn’t know very much about him other than what you saw at the sports festival and what few articles there were about him online. A few of them analyzed his battle skills and others were about the time he got captured by a monster that really resembled a Muk from Pokemon. Ashido told you never to bring that up in front of him so that was off-limits when it came to your list of ‘Things You Can Talk to Bakugou About’.

Dumb.

His only goal in life was to become the number 1 hero and it wasn’t likely that he would even pay attention to you. It was best to sweep the silly little crush you had under the rug before it ruined your chances to even just be friends with the handsome blond.

Could you even call it a crush? You literally just met him! Maybe it was just admiration? Or a want to be friends with someone so strong? You could definitely see yourself learning from him, but you could also definitely see yourself falling in love with him.

You groaned and told yourself you could push away the feelings easily.

Your mom still wasn’t home when you arrived to grab your last four boxes so you wrote her a short note about where you would be living now and told her you were going to be busy but would try and see her soon. You also mentioned that you already fed Jerry, your cat, his afternoon treats.

As you left the apartment, you took one last look around and your eyes settled on the yellow and incredibly uncomfortable couch. You flipped off the couch, ready to settle into the small dorm you were given.

When you got back, more people were in the dorm and they quickly greeted you, asking why you left early. You briefly explained your absence before excusing yourself to unpack. A couple of the girls offered to help you, especially Ashido because your dorm was right next to her’s, but you brushed them off, saying it wouldn’t take long.

Except it would take a while. You just wanted to spend some time alone to relish in the music that helped you block out others and your thoughts.

The first thing you did was open your window to the cool air and put on your clean bedsheets. You opted for having the school provide you with furniture because you were too lazy to bring yours from America. You asked for a white desk and a black bed frame with drawers underneath it instead of a chest of drawers. You were tempted to lay down on the fresh sheets but instead spent some time putting away your clothes before finally giving in.

You finally touched the soft fabric of your bedding just as you noticed the sun beginning to set. The sky blushed pastel pinks and warm oranges that resembled the one from this morning. You pulled out your phone to see a text from your mom about your note.

TIred. I'm so tired, you thought, barely able to read the text through your blurred vision.

Before you had the chance to reply to her, your hand dropped your phone onto the soft bed and your eyelids weighed you down. Slowly, they fluttered closed and you convinced yourself that a small nap was all you needed to get through the rest of the day.

~~

When you woke up, the sun was completely gone and stars shined brightly in its place. You groaned, knowing that you were ruining your sleep schedule. Your stomach rumbled and you couldn’t resist getting out of bed and going downstairs to see what food you might be able to eat.

You opted for using the stairs, worried the sound of the elevator might wake someone. Once downstairs, you smelled something glorious, tempting you closer and closer. As you rounded the corner, you were greeted with the appearance of Bakugou.

God, I just can’t escape him.

It was then you realized that your earbuds had fallen out of your ears while you slept and you could hear Bakugo’s thoughts. He was currently reliving your battle with him today. He was making mental notes of everything that happened and also referring to a conversation he had with Kirishima about the battle.

You didn’t want to disturb him so you started to turn away when the scent of Thai curry wafted over to you and caused your stomach to grumble.

Fuck.

Bakugo looked up and you and glared.

I’m the only person ever awake at this time and now this stupid girl is going to ruin that? Is she going to always be awake at this time?

You couldn’t resist. “Uh, sorry! I didn’t mean to interrupt. And no I’m usually not awake at this time. I-I was just so tired from moving so I fell asleep before dinner and didn’t wake up till now. Honestly! I’m really sorry. I’ll just-”

“Shut up.”

You looked up from fiddling with your thumbs. “Sorry!”

“Stop apologizing.” He didn’t even look up at you when he responded, he just kept stirring the pot and sprinkling in different spices.

“S-” You stopped yourself. “Um, anyways! That food smells good!”

“Of course it does. I made it,” Bakugou responded.

He doesn’t put much effort into conversations, does he?

You took a seat at one of the tall stools by the kitchen, too tired to stand. It gave you a good view of all the food he had spread out. And of his back. The black shirt he wore clung to his muscles perfectly. You pushed the thought away quickly, deciding to distract yourself. “Your reputation suits you, Bakugou. Cocky.” You couldn't help but snicker a little at your comment.

Like you know anything about me, he thought.

“You’re right, I don’t know much about you. Why don’t you tell me more?” You questioned, resting your chin on your hand and leaning forward in hopes that he would open up.

However, reading his thoughts, responding to them, and asking him questions seemed to be the perfect way to set Bakugou off.

“Listen here! If you are gonna sit here, you better stop responding to my thoughts so I can at least pretend you can’t hear them. Better yet, just shut your mouth altogether!” He looked back at you with his fiery red eyes, as if challenging you to speak up just so he could respond angrier.

You zipped your lips, locked them, and threw away the invisible key.

So childish, he thought, rolling his eyes and turning back to the food.

You couldn’t help but smile at his thought, but made sure to keep silent as he continued to work. You could make something to eat after he was done. You didn’t want to get in his way and make him angrier. To keep the peace, you pushed your fingers into your ears to muffle his thoughts.

After a couple of minutes, Bakugou placed the pot of curry in front of you. Then the pot of rice. You looked up at him curiously and pulled out your fingers.

“Make yourself useful and get us bowls and chopsticks.” He took a seat in the chair next to you. “And water.”

You nodded and went to get up before stopping yourself. “Wait, you are letting me eat some of this food?”

He scoffed. “I just happened to make too much and I don’t want it to go to waste.” He looked up at you and saw the smile on your face. “Don’t think we’re friends now or anything!”

You stood up, unable to hide your small smile. He was dumb to forget you could hear his thoughts and realize that he wasn’t as angry as he showed. You happily walked up to the cabinets and then looked back at Bakugou. “Where are the bowls? And chopsticks? And cups?” You bit your lip, worried that this might actually anger him.

Bakugou scoffed and got up. He pointed at a cabinet that you opened to reveal the cups. You grabbed two and turned on the sink to fill them with water. In the meantime, Bakugou had grabbed bowls and chopsticks and was already dividing up the food into two portions.

You sat down, placing a cup in front of your seat and his. Bakugou was already eating and you weren’t sure whether to thank him for the meal so you mumbled “Itadakimasu,” before grabbing your chopsticks and eating.

Bakugou stifled a laugh at your sudden shyness and mumbled back, “Hai.”

You grabbed a good bite of the curry and slurped it down. It was spicy, but- “Holy shit, Bakugou, this is amazing!”

He didn’t even look up from his food to respond to you. “Why wouldn’t it be? I made it.” His voice was oddly calm and quiet compared to how much he yelled throughout today.

You smiled at him before taking another bite. The spiciness was hardly overpowering the creaminess of the curry. You remembered reading somewhere that Bakugou liked spicy foods and decided to try and pick up a conversation based on that. “Do you like spicy food so much because it makes you sweat?” You asked.

He paused for a moment and you could hear his brain run with thoughts on why you were so insistent on talking to him and why he actually didn’t mind it too much. “No, it’s because my body controls heat better than others. When people eat spicy food, your body thinks you're on fire and releases all these endorphins that are supposed to help with the pain. I can tolerate heat better than others so I need a lot of spice to release the endorphins.”

“Ohh,” You spoke. “That’s so cool!” You shoved more rice into your mouth to stop yourself from fawning over Bakugou’s quirk right in front of him.

You were the only person in your family without an element-related quirk. All your siblings had quirks that were offensive, but yours was defensive. It made you a little obsessed with quirks that are more powerful and offensive like Bakugou’s. You knew you were lucky to have such a powerful quirk, but you sometimes resented how you got that quirk. It was a constant reminder of a past everyone wanted to forget.

Bakugou didn’t respond to you, but you didn’t worry. You could hear his thoughts.

Why does she find such a simple part of my quirk cool? What an idiot.

Your arm brushed against his and got a brief glimpse into how many emotions were running through his head in one moment. He was a little annoyed, angry, tired, and just a tad bit nervous.

Nervous. Why is he nervous? Could he be nervous to talk to-

“What are you thinking about, huh?” He asked you, glaring in your direction. “You have such a stupid grin on your face.”

“Huh? Oh, nothing!” You responded. He raised an eyebrow at you inquisitively. “Really!” You added, waving your hands to not only assure him but also to help with how suddenly hot it was.

Bakugou groaned and looked back to your food, he didn’t start eating though.

You felt like such an asshole considering you were able to read his thoughts. You tried to ignore them, but they came through clear as day. You wouldn’t respond to him though, and frankly, you didn’t want to respond to what he was thinking about right now. You shoved more rice into your mouth to hopefully drown out his thoughts.

“So,” He mumbled, “I looked up your mom.”

You practically choked trying to finish the serving of rice in your mouth. You really didn’t think he would actually bring it up. “And?” You responded, mouth half full.

“And she’s pretty powerful. So are your siblings.”

“I know. They are my family aren’t they?” You responded.

Brat, he thought.

“Why don’t you control any elements?” He asked bluntly.

Fuck. “Fuck.” You were really wishing he wouldn’t ask that. You stuffed your face with rice again, almost refusing to respond. You loved your family to death, but that was not a question someone should ask you. It brought back too many memories. “That question is quite personal,” You mumbled as you finished off the rice. You drank the creamy broth, letting the heat fill up your body. You didn’t mean to snap, but you really didn’t want to address the elephant in the room.

“Well, how the fuck would I know that?” Bakugou responded. “I was just curious!”

You let your anger get the best of you, your body feeding off of Bakugou’s anger as well. You stood up abruptly, grabbing your bowl and tossing it into the sink. “Well, let’s take a look at the facts. My family is a long line of people who manipulate one or multiple elements. I am currently the only one alive right now who doesn’t. Obviously, it’s something personal.”

Fuck, I really messed up, Bakugou thought. He looked down, grinding his teeth in confusion and frustration. He then realized that he didn’t owe you anything and there was no reason to be mad at him.

You stopped him before he could even speak up, “Just keep your mouth fucking shut!” You turned away for a moment before looking at Bakugou. “Thank you for the delicious food!”

You stormed off, rushing to the elevator. You were going to clean up the dishes as a thank you. You were going to insist you and Bakugou meet together to go over the match today and even spar again. You were going to do a lot. But then he asked a question that was just a bit too personal for you.

Once in the elevator, you faced forward so you could see him through the long hallway just one last time. He stared at you, bowl in his hands.

What’s wrong with her? He scowled at you and caught your eyes.

I know you can hear me, (Y/N). Don’t play dumb.

The doors closed just as you gasped. You felt like an idiot.

[returnto-dust]

All These Feelings

Summary: Oh no. Oh fuck. Are those… feelings? Shit. She has a crush on none other than Bucky Barnes. A crush. Gross. This was not supposed to happen. Reader finds herself falling for Bucky Barnes despite her number one rule: Don’t fall in love! But with Bucky’s constant flirting and always being so nice and so handsome, what can a girl do? There’s just one small problem: she hasn’t gotten over the pain of a past relationship, and she doesn’t want to get hurt again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x unnamed female character

Word Count: 3926 (including song lyrics in italics)

Warnings: NSFW (18+), oral (female receiving), angst, pining, mention of a bad past relationship, brief scene of verbal abuse but nothing too graphic.

A/N: My entry for Laur’s (@fvckingavengers​) Quarantine Writing Challenge. I am not a writer. I enjoy writing, but I do not think I am very good at it lol. Also I suck at smut. This is my first time ever posting my own writing on this site, so please be nice! Enjoy!

Inspired by Feelings by Hayley Kiyoko 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I walk through this world, just tryna be nice 

They say I’ll get hurt, if I’m not like ice

I know I’ve got friends, I still get so lonely

If I look in your eyes, I’ll want you to hold me

“Whaddya doin’ down there?” Bucky’s heavy boot knocks into her foot as he peers down at the girl on the floor, crumpled out like a wet towel. His hands are on his hips, and his hair is pulled back into a low bun. She makes no move to look toward him, only noticing the largest details out of the corners of her eyes.

“I’m contemplating my existence, I thought that was obvious,” she gives one slow blink toward the ceiling to punctuate her statement, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

“Why ya doin’ that?” she doesn’t have to see him to know there’s a smirk on his stupid pink lips. 

She heaves a dramatic sigh, “Oh, my sweet, innocent Binky.” She follows this up with some incoherent mumbling.

Bucky shakes his head, chuckling silently to himself. He clears his throat and circles around her limbs on the living room floor to sit next to her, back pressed against the couch. She finally glances his way, catching his eyes.

“Ya know, when people examine their place in the world, they usually do it alone.”

“Do ya want me to go?”

“Nnngh,” a groan followed by a small shake of the head.

Bucky chuckles again, looking down at the girl. “I’ll take that as a no.” A couple seconds of silence pass before he speaks up again, more serious. “Doll, what’s wrong?”

She hesitates a moment before fishing around on the floor for her phone, tapping on the screen some, and then shoving it towards him. He takes it from her hands to find it on the calendar app. Ah, yes. The fifteenth. The dreaded fifteenth. Bucky knows this date has some sort of significance to her, but he doesn’t know what it is. Hasn’t asked. He sets the phone down on her rising and falling stomach.

“Look at me, darlin’,” he taps the inside of her wrist and she turns her head, her eyes finding his. There’s a sadness there, an ache, deep rooted, twisting all around inside her. Bucky wishes he can take it away. “Hey, look, I don’t know what’s goin’ on up there today,” he waggles a finger toward her head and she smiles despite herself. “But whatever it is, I know you’re stronger. I know you can overcome it. But anyway, I hope the pain eases soon,” he smiles sweetly, his eyes shining.

There’s suddenly a lump in her throat, and she has to force herself to look away. “Ugh, stop looking at me like that! Go away, you’re being too nice!” she waves a hand at him, shooing him away.

Bucky’s laughing as he stands from the floor. “Hey, when you’re done being a slug on the rug, come find me an’ Steve, we’ll treat ya to somethin’ good for dinner, yeah? Take ya mind off all that crap.” She only groans in response.

~~

I over-communicate and feel too much

I just complicate it when I say too much

I laugh about it, dream about that casual touch

Sex is fire, sick and tired of acting all tough

“Still here?” Nat’s voice breaks her out of her thoughts, and she looks up from the floor to find her best friend staring down at her, disappointment clear on her face. She frowns and lets her head drop back to the floor. “Alright, that’s enough,” Nat tosses her training gear on the couch and stalks over to her friend, gripping each slender wrist in her hands and yanking until she’s sitting up on her ass. The assassin only rolls her eyes at the accompanying groans of disapproval. She sits down in front of her friend.

“You could’ve just asked,” she pouts, picking at the strings on her frayed jeans.

Natasha shakes her head. “No more nice guy, yeah? This is getting ridiculous,  babe. Two years now, and he’s still got you like this. I don’t want to hurt your feelings, but... it’s time to get over it.” She refuses to meet Nat’s eyes, swallowing around the lump in her throat and blinking away the stinging in her eyes. “You’re here now with a family that loves you. Maybe even one that loves you more than others,” she raises her brows suggestively, nudging her friend’s arm.

She laughs and shakes her head, “Stop! It’s not like that. Bucky and I are just friends.”

Nat gives her a look, Really?  “But you could be more than that, you know, if you just let it happen.”

“I can’t, Nat. You know I can’t,” she hugs her arms to herself and draws her knees in. Nat knows full well, the two girls have talked about the story countless times, but it’s been two years. Two long years.

“You’re thinking too much about it, babe. Aren’t you tired? You could be happy again. I want you to be happy again,” all too familiar, this conversation. So many times, Nat’s tried to talk some sense into her best friend. Maybe this time it’ll work.

She sighs, letting Nat’s words sink in. Yeah, she is tired. But what happens if she lets someone in again and things go wrong? Or what if that someone decides she wasn’t worth all the trouble? What if she doesn’t know how to be in a relationship again?

Hands are on her shoulders, shaking her out of her thoughts, “Stop! I can see you thinking. You have to stop letting those thoughts in your head, they’re doing you no good,” she searches her friend’s eyes for a moment before bringing her into her arms. “I know it’s hard, but I know you can get through this.”

~~

Caught up inside, both happy and lonely

Keep telling me lies, they’re killing me slowly

I get too attached, they don’t even know me

Why can’t I relax? Why can’t I relax?

Two Years Ago, September 15th

‘I’ll be late, don’t wait up.’ ‘I’m just out with a friend, you have nothing to worry about.’ ‘You’re acting crazy!’

“Please, Nick, why did you do this?” There’s tears streaming down her blotchy face, blurring her vision as she watches her long-term boyfriend, turned fiance frantically shove clothes and other belongings into bags, stomping around their shared bedroom.

“Take a guess, sweetheart,” he spits, rolling his eyes as she flinches away from him.

“I tried… I wanted to be good for you, I did! Nick, please!” she’s practically on her hands and knees for him on the bed, sobbing his name over and over again. The same place their pretty neighbor was doing the same thing only an hour before.

“Oh, please! You were never gonna be good enough! Don’t you get that? All this time spent with you, wasted! And now look at you; you’re pathetic!” He laughs as she breaks down completely in front of him, crumpling forward on the bed spread. He zips the bags and moves closer, gripping the hair on the back of her head to lift her face up, spitting out, “You’ll never be good enough for anyone, you disgusting, little bitch.” Shoving her head back to punctuate his statement, he leaves her alone in the big, empty house.

Two Years Ago, September 18th

There’s knocking on the front door but she can’t be bothered to acknowledge it. Can’t even turn her head toward the door from her position lying across the couch. It stops finally, and she lets her eyes fall closed, until she feels hands on her shoulders, shaking her awake. For one dreadful second, it’s Nick, back to harass and call her names, but it’s just Natasha. 

“Hey, sweetie. You haven’t been answering my calls,” her voice is low and soft, one hand rubbing soothing circles into the fragile girl’s arm. She doesn’t say anything. “I don’t know what happened, but you don’t look too good. How about I make you something to eat and drink, and then we get you washed up and into some new clothes and you can tell me what happened, okay?” Hesitation, then a small nod. Nat gives her a kind smile. “Okay. I’ll take care of you. Everything will be alright.”

~~

I’m sorry that I care, care

I’m sorry that I care, care

It’s really not that fair, fair

I can’t help but care

She’s thinking back to that day as she towel dries her hair, fresh from the shower and in her newly clean bedroom. When Natasha wants to get someone up and out of a funk, she knows exactly what to do. There’s butterflies swarming in her stomach. Thoughts racing with things unsaid, a certain someone flashing before her eyes. Natasha was right. Things need to change, before it’s too late.

A knock sounds at the door as she’s dressing in a pair of cotton pajamas. Her heart skips, because she knows that knock. Sure enough, when she opens the door just enough to peek around, it’s Bucky, all warm smiles and soft locks. It’s infectious, and she can’t help but smile back. 

“Hey, there she is,” he says, tucking a loose strand behind his ear.

She opens the door a bit wider. “Hey, Buck. Sorry about dinner, Nat made me clean my room.” she gestures behind her and steps out of the way so he can see. Not wanting to make him stand in the hall the whole time, she invites him in and closes the door behind them.

“No worries, I put some leftovers in your fridge.” There it is. Always looking out for her. 

She wrings her hands together and sits on the edge of the bed, her heart suddenly leaping into her throat. “Hey, Buck?” He raises his eyebrows. Now that she really looks at him, she can tell he’s tense. Hands in his pockets, shoulders up around his neck. Something isn’t right. But she promised herself she wouldn’t chicken out. “We… we need to talk.”

He sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah, I think we do,” He nods his head. “Because I’ve been wracking my brain all day trying to figure this thing out. I thought I was being obvious, but then I was thinking maybe you just don’t notice. And I was talking to Stevie, and he said something that got me thinking, hey, maybe she just doesn’t like me.” He shrugs his shoulders and finishes with his hands on his hips, staring down at his boots. 

“Oh, Bucky, I’m so sorry! God, this is exactly what I didn’t want to happen!” she jumps up from the bed. “Bucky, look at me, please.” Their eyes meet and she has to steel herself for what she’s about to say. Because she’s about to break her number one rule. For two years, she’s kept her heart guarded, stayed away from anyone who tried to break through her walls. But Bucky has been that one constant who never gave up no matter how many times she shut him out or turned him down. She’s going against every instinct ingrained in her body, but sometimes you have to fight that, and just listen to your heart. “I think… I think I might be in love with you.”

There. It’s out there. In the air, in the open. He heard it. She knows, because he’s looking at her like she just grew two heads. Now, she’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Bucky breathes out a disbelieving laugh, pinching the bridge of his nose and shaking his head. “Ya know, sometimes, I just don’t get you.” Despite his words, there’s a smile on his lips.

“I know. Trust me, I know. I haven’t been fair to you, Bucky, and I’m sorry for that,” she takes a step closer, but he holds out a hand.

“Why? I spent all this time chasing after you, and time after time you tell me no, but suddenly you’re in love with me? I just don’t get it,” he isn’t trying to be mean, but there are tears welling up in her eyes and she’s backing away from him, hugging herself. “Hey…”

“I’ve been so afraid! Bucky, I’m sorry, okay? I’ve been hurt, real bad, by someone I thought who loved me. He said things, nasty things, and I swore to myself I would never fall in love again. But then you came along!” she gestures to him and laughs through her tears. “Always making me laugh and calling me pretty, and remembering the things I like, and bringing me leftovers when I don’t come to dinner,” she wipes the tears quickly away and tries to swallow the lump in her throat.

Everything clicks in his brain. It all makes sense now. Bucky curses himself for not noticing it sooner, the pain she was in. “Shit, doll, I’m sorry, I shoulda realized.”

“No, no, don’t be sorry. You did everything right. I should’ve told you. I just kept thinking ‘why me?’, ya know? Why would he ever want me? Stupid, broken, little me,” she avoids his eyes, toeing the damp towel on the floor by the end of the bed.

“Hey, don’t say that,” he comes closer and brings her into his arms, wrapping an arm around her waist and a hand in her hair. She buries her face in the crook of his neck. “There’s always been something about you,” he chuckles, thankful she can’t see the burning of his cheeks. “I think you might be the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” He laughs at her muffled ‘yeah right’ into his neck. “I’m serious! You’re gorgeous, and funny, and kind, and you always know the right thing to say. How anyone could ever hurt you is beyond me.”

She pulls away just enough to look into his eyes. “You really mean all of that?”

He nods. “Of course. I haven’t spent all this time chasing after you just for the hell of it.”

“You’re not mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad?” he brushes a stray tear from her cheek and leaves his palm there, smiling when she leans into it.

“For wasting your time?”

“Any time spent with you is no time wasted.”

Her heart leaps. “Shit, Bucky,” she presses her forehead into his and they both laugh. “James Buchanan Barnes? I’m in love with you.”

His eyes fall closed as he takes in those words. “I have been waiting so long for you to say that.” He smiles, so soft and delicate. His eyes are searching hers, warm palm pressed to her jaw, calloused thumb brushing her cheek. It’s like time has slowed now. Like they’re the only two people in the world, in this little room.

He’s looking right at her, studying her expression for any reason to pull away, to stop what he’s about to do. There’s no rush, no urgency, just the desire to be close, to feel the touch of another. He leans closer, and her tongue darts out to moisten her lips. His eyes follow the action, and he hesitates. He nudges her nose with the tip of his, running it along the bridge. His stubble scratches her upper lip, and she twists his shirt in her grasp. All she wants to do is pull him as close as she can, to savor the feeling of their bodies pressed together. 

It’s amazing how suddenly- in the span of just a couple of moments- someone can realize that the person standing right in front of them is everything they’ve ever wanted, everything they’ll ever need. Bucky pulls back just an inch to look into her eyes again, and what he sees there must convince him, finally, for he presses his lips to hers. Delicate at first, then more firm. He sucks in a breath through his nose, his hand pulling her close, the other wrapping in the hair at the base of her neck, tilting her head back further. 

She sighs out a quiet moan, savoring the taste of his lips, the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around her. Her heart clenches in her chest, and she knows this kiss will seal her fate. She loves him. God, how she loves him.

I’m hooked on all these feelings

I know exactly how I’m feelin’

This love asylum, like an island, just me and you

She pulls back to catch her breath, looking into his eyes and they share intense contact for a few seconds. “Wow…”

Bucky chuckles, right thumb tracing the skin of her exposed hip. “Wow is right.”

She bites her lip to try to fight the smile, but it’s useless. “I love you,” she whispers.

“I love you, too.” Bucky thinks he will never get used to the way those words sound coming from her mouth, especially directed towards him.

She looks at him for a moment, eyes tracing every line of his face, before bringing a hand up to rest on his chin. Something shifts in her expression, and it causes the air in the room to change. She presses herself closer to him, if that were even possible. “Bucky… make love to me.”

His heart stops. When he woke up this morning, those were the very last words he imagined coming from her mouth. “Are you sure?”

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my entire life. I love you, Bucky, and I want you,” her voice lowers and it sends a shiver down his spine.

He nods, “Okay.”

It’s like a switch is flipped, and everything is sent into overdrive. Their lips connect again, this time more forcefully, tongues dancing in tandem. Bucky has her shirt halfway up her torso, so she breaks away to pull it over her head, tossing it to the floor. He takes a moment to admire her, softly caressing her skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. She’s not wearing a bra, and she’s even more beautiful than he ever imagined.

His lips are on her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, anywhere he can reach, fingers rolling and tweaking her nipples until she’s moaning and shivering in his arms. She’s making the best damn sounds he’s ever heard, every single one of them shooting straight down between his thighs. Her hands are in his hair, over his shoulder, on his arms. They can’t get enough of each other.

She’s reaching down now, nails scratching his stomach through his shirt until she’s at his belt, unbuckling it and pulling it through the loops. It drops to the floor with a dull thud, and he pulls his shirt over his head to follow quickly after. Lips pressed together again, teeth gnashing in their fervor. He picks her up from the floor with a quick squeal and deposits her on the bed, crawling in over her. Things slow for a moment, and he looks into her eyes, one hand cradling her head. “You’re breathtaking,” he kisses her slow and deep, trailing fire down her neck to her exposed chest and stomach. He’s kissing and sucking and biting everywhere he can reach. His hands trail after his kisses, surpassing them to linger at the waistband of her cotton shorts. He looks up at her through his lashes to gauge her reaction. Sensing no hesitation, he slowly pushes them down, and she lifts her hips to make it easier for him. They join the other clothes on the floor.

“You sure you still want this?”

“Yes, god, yes!”

Bucky chuckles and places a wet kiss just above her mound, trailing them down then around where she wanted him most to kiss down her thigh and up the other one.

She sighs wantonly. “You’re good at this.”

“And you’re good at making me want you.” He tucks his fingers into the waistband and starts pulling them down agonizingly slow. She moans at his words. Every sound she makes goes straight to his cock.

She’s already wet for him as he spreads her lips with two fingers, groaning at the sight. He leans in close and blows gently on her clit, making her jerk and giggle. He revels in the sound. His tongue flicks out to glide along her lower lips, avoiding her most sensitive parts, teasing her to drive her wild. He runs his index finger just outside her clenching hole, collecting her juices. She was on the verge of begging before he finally placed a broad lick from her opening to her clit.

She moans loudly and arches her back. He groans at the sound and taste of her, gripping her thighs to keep her still as he closes his mouth around her clit, sucking gently. He starts flicking his tongue, switching from quick flicks to long licks, until she’s dripping for him. She’s growing increasingly louder, and he’s grinding his hips into the mattress to find friction.

He pulls away and licks his lips. He pushes in one finger, then another, scissoring them in and out, curling them up at the end of each stroke to find that special spot. He uses his tongue on her clit again, slowly licking and flicking it to build tension until she’s clenching around his fingers, hips rising off the bed. “Oh, shit, Bucky! Fuck, don’t stop! I’m gonna cum,” true to her word, seconds later, she comes around his fingers, hands gripping his hair, hips bucking up into his face until she goes still, chest rising and falling rapidly.

He licks her up before kissing his way back up her stomach, sucking and nibbling her nipples before taking her mouth again. She can taste herself on him, and she moans, wrapping her thighs around his waist. Bucky reaches down with one hand and pushes his briefs down just enough to free his throbbing cock. “Fuck, darlin’, I need ya bad.” As he pushes in, stretching her walls around him, she knows she’s in for a long night.

Spent the night, you got me high

Oh, what did you do?

I’m hooked on all these feelings

~~

Extended Ending - The Next Morning

She finds Nat, Steve, and Sam in her kitchen as she stumbles out of her room the next morning, barely even able to walk after the night she had. She wishes she’d put more clothes on, instead of just Bucky’s shirt from last night and clean panties. Bucky. Oh, yeah. She can’t keep the smile from her face no matter how hard she tries.

The three of them are having a conversation as she fixes a bowl of cereal, thoughts filled with memories of the night before, stomach swimming with desire for more. “What’s got you all smiley this morning?” Sam asks, breaking her from her thoughts.

Her spoon clinks loudly against the bowl as she wipes the smile from her face and looks up to find the three of them smirking at her. Her face is on fire. She can feel it. She wants the world to swallow her. “Uh… nothing?”

As if the universe wants to mock her, Bucky chooses this moment to stumble into the kitchen, bed hair a complete, endearing mess, blearily rubbing his eyes. He seems not to notice the three guests as he walks straight toward her, kisses her on the mouth, and says simply, “Good mornin’.”

A beat of silence passes. “Well, shit. It’s about damn time!” Sam shouts,  startling Bucky so much he drops the box of cereal onto the floor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you enjoyed! Feel free to like, comment, or reblog if you did. (Please do not repost!)

[abused-virgil-oneshots]

"call them and tell them you never want to see them again" from one of the prompt lists a while back (I'm sorry I forgot the title of it) with unsympathetic Patton sympathetic dark sides? If it's not to much of a bother? And you aren't swamped? Your mental health is important!!!

TW: sympathetic deceit and Remus, mentioned sympathetic Logan and Roman, abusive Patton, abusive relationship, choking, implied past abuse, implied past whipping, whip mention, pills mention (in a way that helps him), past drugging mention(not in a way that helps him), being forced to cut communication, rape, implied past rape, bruises mention, manipulation, crying, being forced to take a shower with someone, food mentions, throwing things.

AN: double speak is in italics and bold, the rape isn't explicit but you definitely know that it happened, Deceit and Remus are good pure beans and I want to protect them from everything but what else is new, also I did get the other ask you sent I just didn’t respond since I didn’t want to give anything away also, I ran out of tags so I’m sorry

"Pat. Please. I don't want to." Patton hummed quietly as he wrapped his hands around Virgil's waist. He took Virgil's hand and slipped his phone in it. The phone was cracked from getting thrown too many times and Deceit's contact was already pulled up.

Patton moved his head right next to Virgil's ear, "Call them and tell them you never want to see them again, now. This isn't a discussion Veve." He hated when he used that nickname. That was Deceit's nickname for him.

Virgil whimpered quietly as the hands around him wrapped tighter, "Patton they're my friends. I'm not gonna-"

"Right. Now. Virgil. You love me right? And you wanna stay a light side, right?" Virgil nodded his head vigorously.

"Of course Pat, but-"

"Then you can't be friends with the dark sides. They only want you to hurt Thomas, you don't want to hurt Thommy. Do you?" Patton ran his a hand through Virgil's hair. Virgil shook his head again, "then you've got to stay away from the dark sides, and that starts with a phone call. If you do it I'll give you a reward. If you don't, Hmm, well we haven't used the whip in a while," Virgil whimpered quietly and shakily clicked the call button, it took two rings for him to pick up. Patton put it on speaker

"Hey Veve, What's up?" His voice was so soft. Like he was talking to a scared child. Virgil let out a shaky breath, "Are you ok?"

"Deceit, I need to talk to you."

"It's not like we're talking right-

"I don't want to talk to you anymore, Deceit. You or Remus," he knew Deceit could feel the lie, hell he could feel it, but he had to get it out now or he was never going to, and he couldn't take another punishment this week, especially not with the whip.

"I-what- V-" his voice was so confused. God he sounded so hurt.

"I don't want to talk to you two. Ever," he could hear his voice breaking. No. He had to get through this call. He needed to get it out, he couldn't hurt Thomas.

At least that's what he told himself. Not that he'd ever admit that Patton's grip was getting too tight to breathe in, or that he was scared of him, and he would definitely never tell anyone about the bruises that were forming that almost completely covered his left side from the shoulder down. No. That wasn't it. Patton cared. Patton loved him. As long as he listened Patton wouldn't get upset again, wouldn't hurt him again.

"Vir-" whatever Deceit was saying got cut off by Virgil hitting the end button and his sobs finally breaking through. Patton pulled him towards the bed and sat Virgil in his lap just before his legs gave out. Patton was petting him, whispering in his ear, telling him how good he was like he hadn't just cut off communication with the people he'd known since he formed.

"Shhh. It's alright Veve, you have me. You have me and you're helping Thomas and," the words faded out as Virgil curled in on himself. Had he really done that? No. No. This was all a nightmare, he'd wake up tomorrow and Patton would give him a kiss on the cheek, and Deceit would pop up in random times, and Virgil would pretend to be annoyed, and Remus would-

His thoughts were knocked out of place by Patton's mouth on his neck. It felt gross and was so unwelcome, but he couldn't stop him. Virgil could feel his hands creeping around and hear Patton telling him it was time for his reward but his brain was going fuzzy and he couldn't breathe-

When Virgil's mind finally came back to the point of realizing his surroundings hours later the first thing he noticed was his lack of pants. That wasn't really a surprise given what had just happened, but at least he had been able to keep his hoodie this time. He could hear Patton's gentle snores from beside him. He closed his eyes and pushed back the tears as much as he could so he could out of bed. He crawled towards the bathroom and closed the door.

Everything hurt so, so much. He leaned his head on the bathroom door and cried. When he finally stopped he pulled himself up towards the shower and crawled in. He turned the water up as high as he could handle and just sat with his eyes closed. He was only in the shower for a few minutes before he heard the door creak open and a quiet yawn.

"Veve? Are you in here?" A few more tears slipped down his face and he was quiet for a second before he responded.

"Yes, Patton. I'm-" sharp breath. That hurt far more than it should have. Was his voice really that bad now, "I'm in the shower." Stupid, that was obvious. Where else would he be? He heard Patton move around and hum for a minute before the shower curtain opened and he felt Patton step in behind him.

"What are you doing on the floor silly? All of the stuff is up here," how do you respond to that? 'Oh yeah I'm not sure if I could hold my own weight because it hurts to move and it was a struggle to get into the tub, let alone stand to clean myself up.' No, idiots would say that.

"I'm- I'm a little sore. It hurts to stand," that was so stupid. Little? He felt like he'd been hit by a truck. "I just- I needed to get my strength up a little bit is all."

"Oh Veve. I wish you would've woken me up. I could've helped. Here, I'll clean you up now and then I'll go make some breakfast and bring you some, alright?" Virgil nodded despite wishing he could be alone instead. Patton wasn't paying attention anyway, already getting the shampoo and conditioner and body wash. He set it all behind Virgil and moved him up a little so he could sit down behind him.

When Patton had finally finished and come back with clothes for Virgil to get into and helped him get back into bed, he went downstairs. Virgil had curled into a ball and decided to try and sleep until Patton came back, which was probably going to be awhile since the others were probably awake now and dealing with the mess he had made yesterday.

Virgil woke up to the sound of the door slamming into the frame and a fuming Patton starting to throw stuff around the room. He could make out a few mumbled words coming from him, but it wasn't much, vague mentions of Deceit and Remus, the phone call, very few details could actually be made out. When Patton turned his attention to Virgil he felt his blood run cold.

He looked like he was going to kill him. His eyes were filled with fire and he started to walk towards Virgil. Virgil didn't know what he did, he didn't know what to do to fix the situation and since he is fight or flight he decided to opt for the latter and ran. He ran past Patton to the door and tried to open it, he could hear others on the other side of the door though. He pounded on it in an attempt to get their attention. He couldn't stay with Patton right now, he was far too upset and Virgil didn't know how to fix it.

He felt a hand pull him back from the door and himself slamming into the wall. He could feel a hand around his neck, but strangely enough he couldn't see who it connected to. He couldn't see anything. He couldn't see and now he couldn't breathe and now he was going to die for something he doesn't know he did and trying to keep Patton happy was a waste and he could hear the others pounding on the door but he couldn't get to them and-

Virgil's head hurt. It was dark now, when had he fallen asleep? Hadn't he just been with Patton? Certainly he hadn't fallen asleep while Patton was still awake, because he could distinctly remember talking to Patton, and Patton throwing things... and Patton putting his hands around Virgil's neck.

Virgil shot up as what happened hit him, immediately regretting it when the pain hit him just as quickly. He let out a groan and looked around. This definitely wasn't Patton's room. This was the living room. When did he get to the dark sides living room?

"Virgil? You're not ok!" Deceit? When did Deceit get here? Hadn't he cut contact for Patton? Where was Patton? He was going to be upset, wasn't he? Virgil was trying so hard and then everyone else had to ruin it by taking him away! "Virgil? Virgil, hey, I don't need you to breathe for me. Please don't match my breathing. Don't breathe in for four and don't hold for seven and don't breathe out for eight. Don't do any of that for me." Virgil was listening, of course he was, he didn't want to make Deceit mad like he had Patton. He was the reason Patton was upset right? Of course he was, why else would Patt punish him? He could feel deceit wrapping his arms around him just like Patton had...

Virgil shoved him away at the association. No, Deceit wasn't like that! He wouldn't do that! "Virgil! Virgil! Hey! It's not ok, i will touch you. I don't want you to be comfortable." He held his hands up and moved off the couch. He sat on the ground and continued to hold his hands up. "Please just don't keep the breathing pattern. You can pass out again. It is healthy. It won't hurt you more," Virgil saw movement out of the corner of his eye.

He turned around and found half of creativity watching from the side of the room. Deceit obviously hadn't noticed him until Virgil had either because he started to try to calm Virgil down in case he panicked again. "It's not ok, it's not just Remus. Can he come over here?" Why was he asking? Couldn't he just come over?

Remus looked about as scared as being to sudden as Deceit. He felt the same too. He didn't want to scare Virgil. Once Virgil nodded he slowly stepped over so he had time to change his mind and held his hands up in the same way. He sat down in front of him and for a minute they all just stared at each other. When someone finally spoke it was, surprisingly, Virgil.

"What happened? Why am I down here? Where's Patton?"

Remus was the one to respond, in a surprisingly gentle way, "Patton," he definitely didn't miss the obvious cringe Virgil made at his name, "was hurting you when we got there. We could hear yelling and banging, so we all went up to investigate. We could hear you screaming and we had to break his door to get in. He had- had his hand around your neck and you were unconscious. You're down here because you heal faster and Roman and Logan thought it would be best if you woke up somewhere you didn't associate with him. The devil himself is currently locked in the subconscious. We weren't completely sure what to do so we put him in there to get him away from you."

Deceit and Remus were looking at Virgil before deceit summoned a plate. It had some food on it, but not too much. "Please don't eat this, you haven't been out for nearly a day." He set it next to Virgil who eyed it nervously. He didn't want to upset them by not eating it, but what if they put something in it like Patton does? "There is something in it. We won't both try it if that will get you to eat it." Virgil sighed and picked it up. He took a bite.

He finished the food as quickly as he could, which wasn't very fast, it couldn't be when every movement felt like something was stabbing you. When he finished Deceit got some pills that Logan had given him for the pain. The pills also happened to make him drowsy, but he had been warned about that.

When deceit asked him if he wanted to sleep in his old room Virgil was surprised to find that it was still in the same condition as when he left it nearly three years ago. The only difference he could tell was that the bed had clearly been used recently, but that wasn't a cause for concern really, they used to fall asleep together plenty while watching movies, it only seemed fitting they still would. Deceit had to carry him since the second he stood he would have hit the ground if Remus hadn't caught him. Deceit asked if they could stay to watch over him and make sure that Patton hadn't found a way here. Virgil agreed and fell asleep after about an hour of staring at the ceiling. It was strange not having Patton there.

///2200 words. So this ending was bad, but I liked the way the rest came out. What did you think? I hope you liked it! Also, if I do get swamped with asks I will probably turn them off. I promise you that you won’t bother me with asks. And thank you for caring about my mental health

[sebthesnipe]

The Dreamer by Whatwashernameagain an Analysis? Chapter 2! Part 1

All portions:

Chapter 1: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Chapter 2: Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

The Dreamer

@whatwashernameagain

Guys! We finally made it to Chapter 2!!!! Prepare for the feelz!

As always, Spoilers under cut.

So… Lets recap what we know about Roman before we dig too deep into Chapter 2… We know that Roman is overzealous, hopeful to the point of naivety, innocent, sassy, playful/teasing, endearing, misguided and moral. He sees the good in everyone (especially Logan). Roman cares for each person individually, while Logan cares more for humanity as a whole. Lastly, Roman is pretty much the embodiment of hope for Logan and maybe the world. No pressure.

Okay… That’s pretty much what we know about Roman’s personality thus far… and he’s only been mentioned a few times… Not bad, not bad. Let’s get to it!

Eva wastes no time jumping right into Roman’s back story, though I’ll admit the first time I read this it gave me a bit of whiplash. We did just come out of a very dramatic scene, after all. Still as usual there is a lot to be said in the first para. First off, drawing the reader in within the first few lines is always a great idea and she manages it with; “Young Roman was shaking with righteous anger. How dare this – this fiend targeted the company of his father?” (Whatwashernameagain). This should send us into a whirlwind of emotions. We learn a lot about Roman and Roman’s father with these two sentences. First off, we see that Roman is very quick with his emotions which is not surprising at all, judging from what we have learned about him. However, when he uses the word ‘fiend’ in italics the inflection nods towards his overzealous nature which honestly warms my heart a bit. Once again, Eva is very strategic with her italics and beautifully so. We can assume that this ‘fiend’ is none other than one ‘Utilitarianist’ judging from the context of the previous chapter and the rivalry that we are already familiar with. But this begs the question: Why would Logan target Roman’s father unless he is a bad man? Well, I’d say the answer is in the question… But Roman obviously doesn’t believe that.

“He was the hardest working man in the world! His idol, his hero! He was donating to charity, pursuing a career in politics to support the attempts of the republican party to protect this great country’s safety and now he had to deal with an investigation into the state of his breeding facilities” (Whatwashernameagain).

This makes me… so sad. Roman obviously idolizes his father. He is a young man here, years before The Dreamer and it certainly shows in his naivety and innocence. As children many of us are fed information that our parents wish for us to believe or are simply told in order to stop us from questioning this or that. Some parents do this consciously while most don’t even think about it. It’s like when your parent tells you that its illegal to drive at night with the cab light on… I don’t know if this is going to shock you but its not illegal. At least not here. But their parents no doubt told them that when they were younger to keep them from messing with the light and distracting them; then they grew up believing it and now they tell their children the same thing. Or my mother use to tell me that her first husband died in a car accident because she didn’t want me to know she was divorced… Turns out he lives in Cali with a wife and three kids… but questioning her about him hurt her so she made up a lie to protect herself and me. Its not surprising that poor innocent Roman would be fed similar lies to help idolize his father.

The thing is… there comes a point in time in every adult’s life that they look at their parent and reality hits them so hard in the face they stumble. The person you thought your mom or dad was isn’t exactly who they are. For example, I idolized my own father and I of course still love him very very much; but growing up I thought he had the answer to everything and was an outstanding person. He had very few flaws (mostly just promiscuity)… Then about the time I turned twenty-four I watched as he went into a rage about abortions and how pro-choicers are idiots when most of them are pro-life but ‘just want attention’. It took me by surprise and when I showed him the statistics that the majority of ‘pro-life’ and ‘pro-choice’ both agreed that there should be exceptions to most abortion issues (“Abortion”). He chose to deny the fact and continued to hate the opposite party simply because they labeled themselves something other than what he labeled himself, despite believing in the same concepts…. I’m getting way off topic… Sorry… I realized in that moment that the man I idolized was an ignorant man who was content with his choice in being ignorant. It was a shock… The image of him I had painted my whole life came crashing down. It was alright of course, we just don’t talk about politics anymore… well… not often anyways. My point is… I’m curious to see when Roman has the same realization that his father is not the man Roman expects him to be… Truth be told; our parents can never live up to their children’s expectations. We set the bar too high and they are only human, doing the best they can… The good ones anyways XP

Again! Getting off topic! Sorry! Back to the analysis….

Roman sees his father as everything he strives to be. His father is a hard worker, who gives to the needy, is charismatic (a politician), a protector. No doubt, Roman was conditioned to see these things; conditioned to believe that this is what a ‘real’ man looks like. A conditioning that most of us have experienced. Girls that don’t dress pretty enough, or don’t like the color pink, or rather play with a football than a barbie; or boys who love pink, enjoy makeup, don’t enjoy sports… I can’t tell you enough how much crap my husband gets because he rather read a book than play football, especially when he was in school (he’s 6’4” and almost 400lbs). Its wrong!!! Here Roman’s father stands, the picture-perfect image of everything Roman is expected to be… of course he’s going to fixate on the good, rather than accepting the bad. Looks like Logan isn’t the only one in denial.

This denial is cemented when Roman begins to talk about the ‘caramel colored Highland cow’ that his father had given him when he was twelve. Roman uses this as an example of how his father cares so deeply for animals…. -sigh- My poor baby… All of this is an indication of unconscious rationalization. Yup, you guessed it I’m jumping back into psychoanalysis and Freud. YAY! Rationalization is when an individual avoids feelings of displeasure by explaining their own loses and failures as someone else’s fault (Rivkin, Julie). In this case, Roman isn’t even aware that he is doing it; hence the denial. Instead of subconsciously accepting the fact that these investigations could be in the right he chooses to blame the investigation of victim blaming…. Well, the investigations and The Utilitarianist.

Though Roman’s us of terms such as ‘hard-working Americans,’ ‘terrorist’ and ‘gross injustice’ in the next few paragraphs really boldens the image that Roman eventually grows into; the one we saw in Chapter 1. As if Roman should be wearing the stars and stripes on his cape, flapping in the wind behind him. A whole-hearted apple pie American! These terms are a direct parallel to a lot of the Republican campaigns throughout the last few years. Terms like this tend to be used to sew discontent and fear into people, making them easily controllable. Honestly, it’s a great symbolism on how America’s masses are being persuaded to follow the path of anger and certain politicians that I will not name. Roman, here is the picture-perfect representation of America, his father a Republican extremist (like many politicians lately) who has fed him so many lies and promises… provided pretty things to satisfy him temporary and allow him to do as he pleases without any consequence to himself. Sound familiar?

**Personal note: I have nothing against the Republican party. I agree with the platform on a few issues as well as with the Democratic platform. However, anything to its extreme is a bad thing. Thank you for coming to my Tedtalk.

“Roman could not stand for this! It was gross injustice! He wanted to help, to support his father and show him that he could trust him! He was almost twenty now – a man – and it was time he finally managed to prove himself!” (Whatwashernameagain).

Within the same paragraph we see Roman’s need to win his father’s approval. We also see the societal gender norm of being ‘a man’ once more. There is a lot to unpack here. Roman wants to show his father that he can ‘trust him.’ Which wouldn’t be something a normal person would be concerned about unless there was a sense of past abuse; which judging by the rationalization is no doubt the case. This implies that Roman has always been informed that he’s not good enough, or that he is incompetent. This small sentence shows us a side of Roman that we have yet to see… his insecurity. Sure, as The Dreamer he hides it well… He must, he’s the hope and dreams of the world, he can’t afford insecurities. But deep down he is just a child wanting his father’s approval. He wants to be needed, needs to be accepted. He wants to prove to this man that he’s not worthless… Hmm… Kinda sounds like a certain villain we know doesn’t it? Actually, Logan and Roman have a lot more in common here than meets the eye. Imagine what Roman feels here… The desperation, the loneliness. Perhaps he feels as if there is no one else in the world that could possibly understand how he feels. He is no doubt surrounded by staff but when it comes down to it, he is just as alone as Logan is. Both using their pain to change the world; both defining themselves by the work that they do… by their usefulness. Once again, Roman focusing on the individual (his father) while Logan focuses on the masses. He and Logan share the same goal, the same hurtles, and the same pain… and yet somehow ended up on opposite sides of the coin…

We see more of Roman’s insecurities in the next paragraph, underlining the emotion; proving to the reader that it runs far deeper than we would first assume. He states that he tends to ‘ask the wrong question’ and makes ‘stupid suggestions’. However, the questions he asks are regarding the wages of the workers, and the suggestions involve the wellbeing of animals. The dimension this contrast provides really rounds out Roman’s character. As a reader we see that these questions are anything but wrong and the suggestions are far from stupid, but we are a mute onlooker that can do nothing to change the scene unfolding before us. These words paint Roman’s heart as much as his pain. We see his concern for his father’s employees and the animals as well. We see that he cares for every living being, bringing up back to the fact that he focuses on the individual, reinforcing this concept. At the same time, he doesn’t see it himself. I’ve learned early on in life that if you are told the same thing over and over in your life time by someone you look up to… you are bound to believe it and the best and worst thing about belief is that once you have it… its hard to let go.

“Shame rose into Roman’s cheeks as he remembered his silly question about fencing in a meadow for their calves in their Laredo facility to play in with their mothers. He’d just remembered how much Nugget had always enjoyed jumping around with them. Of course, he should have known they needed to be separated from their mothers after the first day to avoid losing the milk they sold. It was necessary, he guessed. So, they’d said” (Whatwashernameagain).

So, they’d said… -sigh- Three little words and yet… so much pain. I don’t really need to explain the whole being told something repeatedly etc etc etc. Because I just did; but the fact that Eva ends the paragraph so simply is so elegantly impactful… I just… wanted to bring attention to it.

It also serves to point out that despite the fact that Roman rationalizes his father’s mistreatments and dirty deeds, he has his doubts. “It was necessary, he guessed.” Implies that Roman doesn’t truly believe this despite what he’d been told (along with the ‘so they’d said’). It adds even more depth to the man because while we are looking at a young Roman with no self-confidence he knows right from wrong. At least, deep down he does. It is the environment around him that is forcing this sense of morality to be buried deep deep down to the point to he can hardly recognize it… but its there. This also makes for some great foreshadowing. The small rebellion of nothing but a seed of a thought will no doubt grow into more.

Tangent: People always talk about how changing your thoughts are a sure-fire way to change your life and it is true. In fact, there is scientific research to prove it. No, I’m not talking about some kind of poll or mental screening. It’s much bigger than that. Dr. Masaru Emoto, a Japanese scientist and doctor of alternative medicine, conducted an experiment to try and discover how our thoughts can physically affect the world around us (“Water”). He took samples of water and exposed them to written and spoken words and music to see how thoughts and feelings affect physical reality (“Water”). Dr. Masaru Emoto discovered that crystals formed in frozen water reveal changes when specific, concentrated thoughts are directed towards them such as ‘love’, ‘thank you’, ‘I hate you’ (“Water”). The findings were unbelievable especially when you consider the fact that 90% of our bodies are made of water. Water that changes in reaction to thoughts. The implications of this research create a new awareness of how we can positively impact the earth and our personal health (“Water”). Dr. Emoto has been called to lecture around the world as a result and has conducted live experiments both in Japan and Europe as well as in the US to show how indeed our thoughts, attitudes, and emotions as humans deeply impact the environment (“Water”). I learned this many years ago watching the documentary ‘What the Bleep Do We Know?’ which I highly recommend… But if you would like to watch the short clip on water molecules and thoughts you can find it here.

I bring it up because Roman’s rebellious thoughts have a far more drastic impact than he probably assumes. We shape ourselves to our thoughts… Which only intensifies the foreshadowing here.

Once again, in the next para we see Roman’s rationalization in full swing as he talks about his father having a difficult time with him. We also see the reinforcement of social norms when it comes to gender: ‘he lacked a sense of ruthlessness a strong man needed to improve the world’, ‘he was a bad hunter, had the wrong interests’, ‘spoke too softly or loudly’ (Whatwashernameagain). I’m not going to go into it too much because I’ve already touched on the ridiculousness of this… and because forcing social gender norms onto someone like this piss me off like no other and I’m not turning this into a big rant and pulling it away from Eva’s amazing work! I’ll just say that its wrong to assume what it means to be a man or a woman… why isn’t just being a person enough?! and leave it at that. We also see more of Roman’s idolization of his father; his need for approval and his distaste for Logan and his so-called victim-blaming (which is rationalization once more).

The sudden shift from such a somber tone to the next paragraph proves to be refreshing and provides Roman with a small burst of passion we know and love! Eva writes: “Roman had one thing going he was good at, though. He was strong, brave and determined. Someone needed to put a stop to this renegade liberal, and it might as well be him. It wasn’t like all the other things he’d tried and failed at. This time, he felt a calling to fight the war of the righteous” (Whatwashernameagain)!

This provides us with a small glimpse of The Dreamer we’ve come to know in Chapter 1. Roman may not have confidence in himself but the image of who he wants to be is another story. For those of you who don’t know I worked in Law Enforcement for six years and its things like this that remind me of some of the good parts of the job. Roman is relatable here to be. I’ve known a lot of officers who are very different outside of the uniform, myself included. We have insecurities, weaknesses, ticks, that all seem to fade away when we put on that uniform. You become a different person, a stronger person; someone you look up to… and looking up to yourself is an amazing feeling… its like your indestructible… you can do anything! Officer Liz and the Liz writing this analysis are two different people. Yes, we share the same experiences and likes and dislikes but… I’m just a regular person, staying up too late, worried about laundry and dishes… while she… she’s a hero who protects everyone, always has a solution, and never lets her emotions get the better of her. Roman is getting his first taste of the high that comes with the alter ego. He sees the Dreamer in that instance, though he refers to himself because in a way they are the same person… The difference is, is that The Dreamer has already won his father’s approval and pride… Roman has not.

*******

I will have to end it there, friends. It is way past my bed time, and I have to be up in a few hours for work. Thank you for joining me though and I hope to see you in Part 2!

   “Abortion.” Gallup.com, Gallup, 10 Nov. 2019, https://news.gallup.com/poll/1576/abortion.aspx.

Rivkin, Julie. Literary Theory: a Practical Introduction. Wiley-Blackwell, 2017.

“Water.” What the Bleep Do We Know!?, https://whatthebleep.com/water-crystals/.

Whatwashernameagain. “The Dreamer - Chapter 2.” Hello Guys Gals And Non Binary Friends, 8 Sept. 2019, https://whatwashernameagain.tumblr.com/post/189407228487/the-dreamer-chapter-2?is_related_post=1.

[ficdirectory]

The Fosters: Our Thoughts on Episode 5x02 “Exterminate Her”

We’re back for more of our thoughts on this week’s Fosters.  As usual, check out @tarajean621‘s thoughts on Jesus and brain injury representation in italics below:

You Know What Could Have Happened, Callie?/Honey, She Was Terrified:  I can totally understand Callie wanting to focus on the good side of things.  I’m sure she is keenly aware of just how badly things could have gone.  And Stef being short with her and Lena taking the time to explain how scared Stef was rings so true to Real Stuff Parents Do.

This Is Nothing to Celebrate!/Surprise!  And, naturally, all the charges are dropped.  But how awkward is this surprise party led by Robert?  Especially Mariana leading her brothers in a rousing chant of “hip hip hooray” because “our sister’s a hero!”  So cute, though.

How Long Are You Gonna Stop Speaking to Your Brother?/How Long Are You Gonna Stop Speaking to Mariana?  I missed this part somehow when it first aired.  

How’s The Treehouse Going?  Has She Taken Over Yet?/No, She Just Found Us a Tree:  Wow, everyone’s crabby today, aren’t they?  Settle down, Emma.  Only a few more days and you can be really far away from Mariana.  (And Jesus.  I wonder how that will go?)

Hey, Can I Talk to You for a Second?/Uh, Yeah, Sure:  I hate that everyone is now actively fearing Jesus.  It’s especially disheartening seeing Mariana react out of fear here.  And the camera stays with Brandon as he jumps and then leaves the table. I’d love for the assumption that Jesus now resides at Intimidation Station to not be a thing.

I have been looking for statistics on how likely it is that people with TBIs assault their caregivers, since this seems to be the slant the writers are taking with 5A.  I could not come up with one link.  

I did, however, find pages of links (over 3 million results) about disabled abuse and victimization.  

One source says that disabled people are 4-10 times more likely to be victims of violence, abuse or neglect than nondisabled people.  It goes on to share why people living with TBIs are likely to encounter victimization - the list includes the use of undue force (which I covered last week when Gabe restrained Jesus), caregivers misperceptions about TBI leading to abuse or not believing us when we report abuse, or having to endure abuse “in return for” help with tasks of daily living.

Definitely.  In just existing as a disabled person and talking to others who are, I can say that everybody I know who is disabled, has, at some point, been abused.  (Usually, this is by a caregiver.)  Another source I found on the maltreatment of children with disabilities states that:

“Children with disabilities may have increased vulnerability to abuse because...[they] may be perceived as less valuable than other children. Their reports may not be considered trustworthy. Discipline may be more punitive and accompanied by a lack of respect.”

So, I’ve Been Thinking and I Wanna Do My Senior Project By Myself/Well, You Can’t:  Um.  Wow, Mariana.  Maybe you should have been honest with Jesus from the start about this.

Yes, this might have been a more timely conversation weeks ago.  Although, it was really up to Moms and Drew to deliver this news to Jesus, so Mariana is not the only one to blame here.

I’m Gonna Talk to Drew Myself and See What He Says:  You pretty much have to, Jesus.  It’s the only way you’re guaranteed the truth.  

But wait, if Jesus speaks to Drew all on his own, who will Drew look to if there is not a suitable nondisabled person present? <-- Sarcasm

Was This Emma’s Idea?/No.  I Just Need to Prove That I Can Do Something on My Own:  Of course, Jesus would feel strongly about this.  His family doesn’t respect him as he is.  It makes sense for him to feel like he has to prove his capability to get them to take him seriously.  Nothing else is working.

Our society views productivity as the be-all and end-all.  You go to school to produce meaningful work so that you can graduate and get a job, thus becoming a contributing member of society.  You are useful and worthy then.  Jesus feels like he needs to produce a meaningful senior project without help to be seen as useful and worthy again.  And it doesn’t hurt that it might earn him points with Emma to distance himself from Mariana.

I Just Wanna Help/I Don’t Need Your Help/Well, We Do/So You Want Me To Go Live with Robert?  Honestly, though, what else is Callie supposed to think?  Moms are pretty much saying she is too much for them and they need backup to handle her.  

Callie, We Love You But There is Only So Much That We Can Do For You:   I guarantee you the only part of Lena’s sentence that Callie heard was “We love you, but...” which feels exactly like, “We don’t love you,” or “We used to love you, but don’t anymore.”  (Please think about what you’re saying Moms, these words will stick.)  

You Need to Decide Who You Want to Be Going Forward, Because This Girl is Not Acceptable:  OMG talk about a back-to-back gut-punch!  Jeez...  What is Callie supposed to do with a statement like this?  She is who she is.  She can’t change who she is.  She has had a ton of stuff happen to her before she ever came to Stef and Lena.  That all impacts who she is and her decision making process.   

This morning I read an article called 3 Reasons Traditional Parenting Doesn’t Work With Kids From Trauma.  Callie has lived months as an adopted child, as opposed to 7 years in foster care.  She is in survival mode all the time, and completely shut down during Moms’ and Robert’s lecture.

I’ve heard similar remarks as an adoptee myself and that is exactly how they resonate.  Moms’ words must feel like such a rejection.

After This Last Thing With Callie, I Just Don’t Know What To Do/I Know That Was So Awful For You.  I’m So Sorry.  How Can I Help?  What Can I Do?  This is probably a bit of a raw wound for me personally, because Stef absolutely needs and deserves comfort.  But it feels so jarring to see this scene after the previous two with Moms and Callie.

Lena excused Stef’s anger at Callie in the car when Stef talked about how Callie could have been beaten or raped (she has experienced both in foster care, Stef.)  Then the lecture.  But we just don’t see that level of love and support for Callie herself.  Nobody is asking Callie “How can I help?”  or “What can I do?”

I Need You to Say You Can’t Help Unless It’s Both Our Projects, Because You Can’t Choose Sides: Mariana, I get that you are always at least 25 billion steps ahead, seeing every possible bad eventuality but you need to try to reign in this impulse to manipulate the adults in your world.  Maybe talk about that in therapy?  (But speaking of Kids Who Came From Trauma...pretty textbook behavior.)

(On the positive side, give Brandon Quinn all the points for the physical comedy of trying to put those jeans on!  So funny!)

He’s Lucky I Didn’t Suspend Him/And You’re Lucky I Don’t Sue You.  And The School:  Yes, Lena!  (Also how gross is that pro-privatization piece in the ABCC school paper?)

Portfolio?/Your Body of Work:  I find it hard to believe that Callie would have zero idea of what a portfolio is, but maybe she doesn’t hang around a lot of art students?

Mariana Just Told Me That This Treehouse Project is Approved for Her and Not Jesus Because He Might Not Be a Senior Next Year?  It was news to me, too, Gabe!  I’ve literally been thinking (for months) that Mariana went in to support Jesus for his senior project.  That it was his meeting.  And that when it was not approved for him that was the end of it, but Mariana couldn’t let it go, so she lied and said it had to be both of their projects.

But Jesus Has No Idea, Right?/We Don’t Want to Frighten Him with All the What-Ifs/Keeping Things From Him Blew Up in a Pretty Big Way:  I mean, Gabe’s not wrong...

Dean Bayfield:  Well, hello, new neighbor.  Looks like Stef’s a little tongue-tied around you...

When Do They Send the Paper to the Printer?/They Already Did/What If It Caught an Error and Sent a New File?  Mariana Adams Foster...put that big, beautiful brain of yours to good use and be careful.  (I’m so proud!  But I’m so conflicted about being proud!)

Pick Up Your Senior Project/Toss It:  This Girl Is Not Acceptable.

The Art Professor...is Gonna Let Me Audit Her Class and Help Me Put Together My Portfolio/That’s Amazing:  This Mama Sandwich for Callie is so bittersweet because she looks so relieved that they still love her.  

Do Think I’d Be Better at Scooping Ice Cream or Flipping Burgers?/That Depends.  You’d Be So Bad at Both:  OMG Callie!  Hahahaha!

Maybe This Could Be My Still Life.  I’m Salty, Right?  Why would she want to find an object that defines her if the girl she is is not acceptable?  No wonder she is struggling so hard with this.

I Used to Blow Dry My Hair Straight, Too, Mariana.  It’s Called Time-Management:  These are the moments that I love.  Because Mariana’s hair is not a lost issue, and Lena remains supportive about it, giving Mariana advice from her own experience.

We Have 5 Teenagers/Oh God Bless You!  We Just Have the One:  Hahaha!  I love Theresa!

A Good Basic Case With All the Essentials:  Can’t go to art school without supplies!  

The Article Doesn’t Appear to Quote You or Anyone on the Administration.  It’s Just One Kid’s Opinion, Right?  OMG Lena, I love you!  Also, check out the screencap Tara got of the article in the Sea Breeze!  Love that it cites IDEA and points out what this article says, in part, which is “ If the private...school does not accept any federal funding, then the school is not required to provide accommodations” to students with disabilities.

What Did You Bring to Sketch?/I Think I’m Just Gonna Sketch My New Art Set:  Because nothing says Callie like an art set you got 10 minutes ago... :(

Grace!  Are You Okay?  Are You Hurt?  Why Are You Handcuffed to the Bed?!  Brandon, your reaction to Grace here was, hands down, my favorite part of the episode.  You give me hope for humanity in this moment.

Otherwise, Why Would You Be Here?  I also love Ximena!  There is such a shortage of positive female friendships depicted on TV that I would love to see Callie and Ximena develop one.  But it looks like Ximena’s complimentary question to Callie isn’t sitting quite right...

It’s For This Foster Family That Has, Like 12 Kids.  Some of Them Are Special Needs:  First of all, it seems illegal that one family would have 12 foster kids at once?  And secondly?  Pretty much no one in the disability community likes the term ‘special needs.’  

Since I Got This TBI, People Treat Me Like I’M Special Needs:  So revealing there, Jesus.  I always say, the hardest part about being disabled isn’t the disability, it’s the way we’re treated as inferior.  I imagine that dealing with a sudden disability as Jesus is, that feeling is even stronger.  (And I can’t shake the feeling that the ‘people’ Jesus is referring to is his family.  And honestly, nobody should be treated like they’re less when they’re disabled, especially by family.  It’s bad enough to experience it in general society.)

Having a brain injury is not a bad thing, but it does take some adjustment.  The way Jesus says, “People treat me like I am special needs” is revealing, as Tonia pointed out.  People treat him like a pile of unreasonable demands - like a list of symptoms - instead of as a human being who has a brain injury.

Talk to Your Moms/All They Do is Lie to Me and Keep Secrets.  They Aren’t Going to Tell Me.  So, What Is It? I can’t say I wouldn’t be making the same call Gabe ends up making here...and so far, Gabe is one person whose ableism is at a minimum, and Jesus feels that.  He feels respected by Gabe.  His experience with Moms post-TBI has been that they treat him as less now.  They have lied to him and he doesn’t need anymore of that.  He’s out of the woods, healthwise, he doesn’t need to be ‘protected’ in this manner.

No Longer Funding Any Junior Student’s Senior Projects: Of course you aren’t, Drew...

Did You Talk to My Father?  Robert Quinn?  Oh Lordy, this isn’t gonna end well, is it?  How humiliating for Callie.  Like she needs Robert calling in favors for her to get to audit art school class...

I’m Not Gonna Be a Senior Next Year?/We Don’t Know That, Jesus:  Now Jesus knows, and Stef still won’t give him a straight answer?  Really?  At least tell him what you DO know...

Also, inquiring minds would like to know what IS happening with regard to Jesus and school?  Stef and Lena are both back at work and Jesus is home all day, talking to Gabe as he builds the treehouse.  Lena’s an educator.  School is always on this family’s radar.  Even if Jesus isn’t ready for full days, I’d think a teacher coming to the house for a bit wouldn’t be out of the question.  But school hasn’t even been mentioned by Moms except to say that Jesus is missing a lot, and taking Drew of all people as the expert on post-brain-injury reentry to school.

Jesus, I Need You To Calm Down/No, I Am Not Going To Calm Down/Then You Can Go To Your Room Until You Are Willing To Listen To Me. Now:  

In my opinion, Jesus is not out of bounds or out of control here.  He has a right to be upset, but Stef sends him away.  (Instead of sending Gabe and/or Mariana away so she can have a private conversation with Jesus.)  She tells him to leave until he is willing to listen to her - but Stef is in no way willing to be around his feelings in this moment.

Too often, disabled people are expected to “be nice” in the face of ableism.  And let’s be clear, not telling Jesus about what is going on with his schooling is ableism.  Dismissing Jesus’s current upset?  Also ableism.  

If any of the other kids found out Moms withheld information for weeks about them possibly not being promoted a grade, upset would be an expected reaction.  In Jesus’s case, it is not justified in Mom’s eyes.

I’m Not Going Up There With Him!  Did You See What He Did to Brandon’s Room?  What If He Takes a Baseball Bat to My Head?  Kids learn ableism from their parents...and Stef doesn’t refute Mariana here...  So harmful.  (And also - if Mariana isn’t comfortable going upstairs, the least Stef could do is tell her to go to the living room or something.  Anything so she is not right there when Stef tells Gabe that if he can’t respect Stef and Lena’s authority as the twins’ parents, he’ll have to leave.  Awkward.  And not a conversation for one of the kids to overhear.)

Is This a Bad Time?/Jesus is Up in His Room and I’m Sure He Would Love to See You Right About Now:  Um...  If Jesus is supposed to be being punished or taking a break or whatever, why would you send Emma up there?  (But I have a pretty good idea why.  Disability as a Plot Device, anyone?  Because up until now, Emma was the only person who wasn’t fearful of Jesus.  The choice to send her up there just to witness Jesus throwing things is a conscious choice to continue his ostracization and isolation.  To make sure he has no one to turn to or lean on.  

Notice how this “outburst” comes immediately after being dismissed.  

Also, here is another example of how traditional parenting does not work on kids with traumatic backgrounds.  And a Traumatic Brain Injury is yet another trauma for Jesus to juggle, in addition to his unstable infancy and childhood (until age 8).  Sending Jesus to his room just drives home the fact that he, like Callie, is seen as unacceptable now.   

I Wish I Had Somewhere to Unleash My Beast/You Do.  Your Art:  Jesus, do you hear this?  You and Callie could totally channel all your feelings into art.  That’s what it’s there for, and you’re both good at it.  (I’d actually really like to see this!)

How Did Your Job Interview Go?/I Was Late So I Probably Didn’t Make a Great First Impression:  Yeah, like when your girlfriend calls you with fake emergencies when she KNOWS you have a job interview soon...

Pretty Sure She Was Trying to Have Sex With You/Oh, My God:  I loved this!  Rang so true to me that the adopted kid would totally get what Grace was trying to do with Brandon while Brandon remained innocently oblivious...

I Wanna Try to Be a Senior Next Year, Even If That Means I Have to Go to Summer School/Honey, That’s Really Great to Hear, But Your Senior Project Will Have to Wait Until Then:  Okay but Jesus literally did not say anything about his senior project.  He’s talking about his education right now.  Why does no one take him seriously?  (Oh wait, I know...)

“That’s really great to hear.” What does that even mean?  “That’s really great to hear that you still desire and value an education even though you have a brain injury?” 

It sounds as if that was Lena’s way of possibly skirting the education conversation.   

Because I Got Mad?  Are You Punishing Me?  Of course, it feels like a punishment.

Drew’s Not Funding Any Senior Projects by Juniors/You’re Lying:  Moms, remember Stef’s brilliant take on ‘trust has to be earned?’  I feel like it’s time to work on starting to earn Jesus’s.  Because right now, he can’t trust anything you say, and why should he? 

Also, I’m pretty sure Monte said last episode that Drew isn’t the principal because she hasn’t yet resigned.  So...why is the vote invalid but his word about Jesus’s senior project like signed, sealed and notarized by a judge?)

I Could Probably Get Jesus’s Uncle to Donate/Birth Uncle: This is interesting, because we watched this episode with a friend who adopted her daughter.  And she specifically commented on this scene.  Said she never corrects her daughter when she wonders about her birth mother.  And she felt it was out of place for Moms to correct Gabe here.

I Do Wanna Keep My Senior Project/We Took It to the Dumpster Already:  Ouch, Callie :(

I Didn’t Give Her Any Money, I Just Asked Her to Give You a Chance, But Only If She Believes in You, Which, Obviously, She Does/You Don’t:  Bam.  It’s truth time, by Callie.  And that really is what Robert’s actions communicated.  Instead of helping with her or giving her advice on what to do next, he went behind her back and appealed to the teacher’s pity, and that never feels good.

I Know You All Think That I’m Unacceptable/That’s Not What We Meant/It’s What You Said:  Right, Callie?  And no matter how many other times she is affirmed, those words will be inside her, challenging the love she’s shown.  It’s this thing: anger resonates as the “truest” feeling, while love feels forced.  It’s hard to explain...

When You First Met Me You Told Me I Wasn’t Disposable and I’m Really Trying to Believe That:  We keep track of every single word.

We Don’t Want You to Throw Away Your Past, We Just Want You to Stop Repeating It:  But that might not be entirely in Callie’s control.  How often do we rehash or recreate an aspect of our past in an effort to work through it, or because it feels familiar and that feels safe?  Moms want Callie to feel safe, but safe is new.  And it’s going to take some getting used to.  (Also I’m really glad Lena rescued Callie’s senior project from gettting thrown away.)

So, I’m Not Going to See You Before You Go?/I’m Sorry/I Love--:  Emma’s pulling away so hard and fast.  This sucks.

I really hope that this whole Aggression Is A Symptom storyline does not end up Teaching Jesus A Lesson.

Did Mamas Talk to You About The Treehouse?/I’m Gonna Ask Emma to Do It With Me...If That’s Okay:  Ugh, and the twins aren’t getting along still.  And at this point it seems like working with Emma on the treehouse this year or next is gonna be a bust...

Not being able to connect after an injury is a thing, and I appreciate that it is being depicted.  To add to Tonia’s comment about Emma, we don’t know what is going to happen with them.  He is trying to make things work with his girlfriend while putting Mariana in her place.  We will have to see what happens...

I Guess I Shouldn’t Have Read Fifty Shades of Grey:  Oh, Grace, what a terrible book!

I Don’t Know Where The Keys Are.  I Think They’re Over Here/Okay, I’m Coming:  Hahaha!  Don’t play with handcuffs, Brandon and Grace...or Stef will have to come unlock you...and wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

Fearless:  I love Callie showing Ximena her necklace from her mom as her object for her Still Life and I love Ximena’s reaction to it!

Tess/Oh, My God!  Stef!  So, I was in the shower, the morning after this aired, and it occurred to me.  The thing that everybody already knows about who Tess is.  But in case someone hasn’t made the connection.  I realized Tess was Stef’s high school friend who she was cuddling and got caught by Stef’s dad.  Also the reason Stef was sent by her dad to see a priest, who told her being gay was a sin (episode 1x06, I believe.)

For more: Fosters Recaps

[bluebacchius]

Space Cocoa (for VLD Positivity Exchange)

Here’s a Heith fic I wrote for @acequeenm for the Voltron Positivity Exchange! (I’m a day late and I am so so sorry!) I really hope you like it! :) 

Also major thanks to @stargazershiro for putting this exchange together! I think it was a really amazing idea! :) 

I recommend reading it on Ao3 HERE because Tumblr screwed up all my formatting :( Otherwise, please ignore my messed up spacing and the marked lack of italics :P

*****

Keith hates it when they ask him questions. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t resent having to listen in too, during these times when everyone gets all sentimental and nostalgic.

           He can deal. He can sit back and tune it out when everyone laughs over old memories from home, or trades funny personal stories. He wishes they would just be content with his presence, because honestly, Keith has nothing of his own to share. He knows that the reason they turn the spotlight on him is to make him feel better, make him feel included as if he was honestly going to be wounded over it. He’s used to this, truly.

           But he hates it.                                        

           Hey, Keith, what did you want to grow up to be when you were little?

           What was your favorite thing to do when you were back home?

           What’s your favorite sport, Keith?

           It’s questions like these, the ones with really uncomfortable answers, that really grate on his nerves.

           “Keith! Hey, Keith!”

           Keith jumps at Lance’s calls of his name, and turns. “What? Why are you yelling?”

           “Because I’ve been calling earth to Keith for like the last ten minutes. You aren’t even listening to the conversation. It’s no wonder you messed up the mind meld so bad today.”

           That comment hits Keith in a really sore spot, and he thinks Lance knows it, especially when he answers Keith’s glare with a seemingly innocent question.

“Keith, what’s your favorite food?”

           “Really?”

           “Come on, just answer it. Be part of the conversation for once.”

           “What is this, truth or dare?” Keith asks, deadpan.

           “No, it’s just… questions!” Lance nearly throws his arms out in exasperation as he says it. “Stop being so closed off, it’s literally an innocent question! We’re just hanging out.”

           Keith clenches his fists, but the phrase comes out as more of a mumble than he intended.  “I… I don’t have one.”

           “How can you…”

           Keith hates this. Today is not the day for this, for Lance to keep pushing. “I just don’t, okay? God! For fuck’s sake, I lived in a one room cabin with my dad for half my life, and foster care for the other!” He’s standing suddenly, whirling around to glare down at Lance, Hunk, and Pidge where they sit on the couch and just stare up at him as his words are registered. Here he goes, opening up the way they wanted him too. But as usual, it isn’t pretty. “We hunted illegally. Ate food from a foodbank. And then I lived on premade eggs for two years! I don’t have one.”  

           He hates, even more than the questions, the way his eyes begin to sting at the admission he’s just made.

           He leaves the room before they can say anything else, his pride the only thing keeping him from running as he heads for his room. And, if he’s honest, he doesn’t want to go to his room, but that’s the only place he has.

Maybe he wants to train, and then he’d feel tired and then he could sleep and forget about this, but he doesn’t want to spar Lance after that and Shiro is decidedly… busy.

           He’s been working with Coran and Allura on strategy all day, apparently. In a rare loss of his impressive patience, he snapped at them all to settle down and stop interfering earlier when Lance and Hunk were talking too loud and Pidge was tinkering with a robot behind his back instead of listening.

           And perhaps, that morning, Keith had failed the mind meld again. He knows Shiro was disappointed in his inability to open up. He couldn’t help but feel a bit like Shiro was disappointed personally in him.

           He knows that sometimes they all wear on his patience, even Keith. It might have taken all eight years since he’s known Shiro, but Keith has finally figured out that he has limits too.

           If Keith still feels ignored by him, he won’t say it out loud.

           Keith climbs into his bed, leaning back on the pillows as he quietly waits for the rage to die down. Perhaps he isn’t even angry, not really. It’s more like… frustrated. Half of him immediately feels bad, now that it’s quiet. But would there ever be a time when they would all try to understand why he can’t just talk all the time?

           He busies himself with tossing his knife up at the ceiling and prying it out again, knowing that Allura will probably kill him for abusing the castle later, but it passes the time and helps quell the gross feelings in his chest.

           There’s a short but strong knock at his door. Too heavy to be pidge. Too timid to be Lance. Keith’s chest tightens at the thought of having to look up at Shiro’s Disappointed FaceTM. Again.

           He waits, doesn’t ask who it is, doesn’t say to come in. The knock comes again, but there’s no calling of his name, no asking if he’s “okay.” As if anything is really okay anymore.

           So he pulls himself off the bed and mashes the open button for the door.

           And it isn’t Shiro waiting for him. It’s Hunk, with his hands full of steaming mugs.

           “Uh…” Keith begins, but the words drop off.

           “I brought you something,” is all Hunk says.

           “What is it?”

           “Just something I made,” Hunk replies as he walks in the door and steps around Keith and into his room.

           “Uh, come in I guess?”

           “Don’t mind if I do,” Hunk says with a small smirk that Keith has never seen before. “Not like you’d be strong enough to push me out anyway.”

           Keith’s mouth just sort of falls agape at that. When did Hunk get cocky? When did Hunk start teasing him like… like Lance or something?

           “Ah,” Hunk stutters out then, chuckling as he moves to set the mugs on Keith’s dresser, “I was kidding. Mostly.”

           “What’s in the mugs?” Keith asks, to hide how weird he feels all of a sudden.

           At that, a wide smile spreads over Hunk’s face, and he snatches one up and practically shoves it into Keith’s hands, but it’s hot and Keith flinches backward as liquid sloshes out. Suddenly Hunk seems to acquire some lightning fast reflexes and he shields Keith’s hands and wrists with his own hands and somehow still manages to keep a grip on the cup. Hunk’s hands are huge.

           “Shit!” he hears him swear—another shocking moment for Keith—and then Hunk shifts the mug back to the dresser and wipes what looks like… chocolate?... on the hem of his shorts.

           “Since when do you swear?” are the words that tumble from Keith’s lips.

           Hunk laughs. “Well, since always. I just… well, the princess still scares me a little and Shiro reminds me of like, my dad. So I don’t do it when they’re around.” Hunk reaches out again for Keith’s hands, takes them into his warm ones before Keith can protest. “I didn’t burn you, did, I?”

Keith shakes his head.

“Anyway, sorry I’m a mess,” Hunk continues, trademark nervousness creeping back into his demeanor as he seems to realize he’s cradling Keith’s hands in his again, and he pulls away. The confident and teasing guy who barged into Keith’s room earlier is seeming to be forgotten. “Like I said, this is for you.”

           The other, un-spilled mug is offered to Keith, gently this time, and, skeptical as he is, Keith takes it and looks into it.

           “This looks like…”

           “Yeah, I know,” Hunk says, grinning unbelievably wide.

           Keith sips on the cup slowly, and is wholeheartedly surprised when a warm and familiar taste fills his mouth. Chocolate. Hot chocolate.

           A reactionary, “oh my god” slips out of Keith’s mouth before he can think. It’s good.

           “I know, right?” Hunk exclaims, obviously proud. “I figured out how to make something pretty close to cocoa powder with all those herbs Allura didn’t know how to use, and then we have all the weird space milk from the mall…”

           It isn’t quite perfect, but nothing they’ve experienced in space is. There’s a mildly bitter aftertaste, and the milk-like liquid is more akin to soymilk than anything, but Keith doesn’t mind. It’s warm and overall sweet and Keith has no idea how Hunk has managed to recreate chocolate flavor, but it’s been done and it’s a miracle.

           Just holding something warm and familiar is suddenly more comforting than Keith had ever imagined. He’d always said—always thought—that nothing particularly reminded him of his childhood, but he’d almost forgotten about those rare nights when he would sit on the basement couch in the Shirogane household. Shiro would help Keith sneak downstairs from his bedroom and make him hot chocolate. They watched scary movies together and laughed at the cheesy effects. If Keith fell asleep—he almost always did—without fail, he would wake up in his bed in the morning. He never ever woke him up, even in the last summer Keith stayed there before the Garrison when he was fourteen and definitely too heavy to be carried upstairs.

           Keith realizes he’d completely forgotten about those memories.

           If he felt weird before, he feels even weirder now. Like his chest is filling with sand.

           Hunk’s voice startles him and he seems to be panicking, “Hey, it’s okay if you don’t like it. I know it isn’t totally right, you can-”

           “Why do you think I don’t like it?” Keith is almost offended at the suggestion, but his voice suddenly comes out soft and strangled

           “You made this really screwed up face just now, like-” Hunk stops short. “W-wait, what’s wrong?”

           “Nothing,” Keith grounds out between clenched teeth.

           “Hey, don’t freak out,” Hunk starts to panic, and the cup is torn roughly from his hands and immediately replaced by the crushing weight of Hunk suddenly all over him.

           What the hell are you doing? Get off of me! Keith screams, but only in his head because he isn’t sure what’s happened to his voice.

           And suddenly Hunk is sort of crushing him to his enormous chest, and Keith can hardly breathe. He can’t breathe because Hunk’s arms are too strong, but also because he’s suddenly choking on something that isn’t really there. And his mind is playing through ancient thoughts like film. It hurts, but it also feels nice and he’s being hugged and nothing has felt familiar in so, so long. He didn’t think it would be possible to feel that ever again.

           Keith hates sentimentality.

           He hates thinking about these things.

           He hates that something so simple and stupid like a hot drink has suddenly turned him pathetic.

           He hates Hunk for doing this to him.

           Except he doesn’t.

           He comes back to the reality he never realized he left when he feels one of those warm and heavy hands on the back of his head. He opens his eyes to see he’s pressed his face deep into Hunk’s chest. The grip around Keith loosens considerably and he feels his voice in his chest when he tells Keith to take it easy, not to panic.

           Panic?

           Oh. Perhaps the reason Hunk held him so tight was because his legs are shaking pretty hard.

           “It’s okay, just breathe.”

           Wasn’t it supposed to be someone else saying those words to Keith?

           He focuses on breathing. He tells himself how stupid and pathetic he is for not being able to breathe. He stares into Hunk’s chest, a vague yellow shadow across his vision and counts in fours in between Hunk’s murmurs that becomes clearer with every cycle.

           Pathetic.

           He pulls himself away from Hunk a little too roughly once he thinks he’s got a handle on himself, and sees the wounded look on the yellow paladin’s face. They’ve ended up sitting back on the end of Keith’s bed, a bit too close for Keith’s comfort.

           He can see Hunk holding back more questions. He’s looking at him like Keith just grew a second head, but looks away politely when Keith scowls and wipes his eyes roughly on his sleeve. And Hunk’s arms leave him; move far away from him as Hunk puts a foot between them on the mattress. Keith regrets his scowling face because god, it wasn’t meant for Hunk, it was for himself.

           Maybe it was like Lance said. He ruins things by refusing to open up. Hunk is a genius. Hunk managed to make chocolate in space for Keith, and he doesn’t deserve this.  

           Keith clears his throat, forces himself to look at Hunk even though he wants to bury his head in the bed and never look at anyone again. “Hey…” he says slowly, gesturing to the cups across the room. “Can I have more of that?”

           “Oh…” Hunk looks genuinely surprised at that request, but the smile is coming back to his face and Keith is sure that’s exactly what he likes best about the yellow paladin. His positivity is the most resilient. Probably more than Shiro’s even. “Yeah, of course.”

           There’s a beat of silence, awkward but not heavy.

           “Do you feel better?” Hunk asks.

           Keith nods. “Yeah. I do.” And he’s sure he means it, at least a little bit.

           Hunk sighs, smile coming back full-fledge. “There’s more in the kitchen,” he says softly. “We can go make you another cup before I tell Lance and Pidge about it.”

           Keith almost smiles at that. “You know Pidge would practically pay you for some of this. You didn’t tell them?”

           Hunk scoots back toward Keith, enough to settle his arm back around his shoulders. “No, the first cup was for you.”

[batmanego]

lets talk about court/eousmingler

cool. fun. right. whatever. i used to be @cromslor​ on tumblr.hell which is when i got involved with ace discourse and was basically. uh. fucking. i wouldnt say harassed but. definitely intimidated and whatnot in a way that was manipulative, gross, and just generally bad.

so naturally 2 years later or so i ask “hey, what the fuck was that abt”

and im sent this message

while its too long to screenshot ATM i did copy it all down, my comments in italic

“why are you comparing me to people making genocidal statements just because i’m part of the movement that motivated them to say those things?”

(what the fuck does this mean? are you comparing exclusionists to literal actual nazis? when i told you i was jewish? what? excuse me? what? what?)

hmmmmmm for the same reason i compare TERFs to other TERFs who’ve said horrific things and committed horrible acts of violence! because being part of the same movement that caused those acts to take place makes you complicit in them. participation in a movement that births such bigotry is to willingly associate yourself with (and support!) said bigotry. 

(for the last time, nobody is saying that asexual people deserve death or whatever keeping them from our community is different than advocating for their extermination or bodily harm.)

also i don’t willingly talk to folks that young on here.

(well you did so)

and i don’t imply people fake their ethnicities or religions, or in this case ethnoreligious identities. 

(you totally did is the thing? you literally compared me to the white cis goy woman)

even though a gentile white cis woman spent over a year pretending to be a black trans Jewish woman to help the exclusionists get Oppression Points, so Jewish inclusionists would have reason to be on their toes about that…but as a gentile i ain’t got no right to postulate that shit. 

when you say i “implied you faked your jewishness” are you referring to that whole debacle where a gentile exclusionist said a symbol made by Jewish people was some secret nazi code? because i beg of you not to pretend that the gentile accusing Jewish people of creating secret nazi code symbols wasn’t antisemitic in doing so. 

(I AM REFERRING TO THE INCIDENT IN WHICH YOU IMPLIED I WAS FAKING BEING JEWISH)

the ace exclusionist movement on this website has a record of harboring someone that a number of them (four or five popular bloggers) knew to be a pedophile (tumblr user Leftbians), and still reblogging her posts and helping her gain popularity with minors.

(youre right but have you fucking looked at the inclusionist side of things. please)

a movement that does that isn’t a safe place for minors to be in.

(yeah. same with the other side)

i don’t like talking to minors on here unless they need like help/advice with an abusive situation or something…there’s been a few incidents of me arguing with someone and then going “holy shit its a Kid??” and ceasing correspondence. but yeah my style of discourse is so direct and volatile that interacting with naive minors is avoided, unless i’m saying something to keep them from getting hurt.

(WEJHDFGJDGJ THIS IS NOT WHAT YOU DIIIIIIID!!! YOU DIDNT DOOOO THAT! I AM AND WAS A MIIIINOR! AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!)

but if i did talk to exclusionist kids knowingly, you bet your ass i’d be warning them that the movement they’re in isn’t a safe place for them to be in. “why did you list reasons exclusionists are dangerous to a kid??” the same reason you’d list the reasons ANYTHING is dangerous to a kid.

assuming i knew your age at the time which i probably did not. i don’t remember you, so idk.

(my age was publically listed on my blog. do do do do do do do)

and also for the record this was. years ago from what you’re saying. (this was at max 2 years ago badadadada) i dont say “this was years ago!” to minimize it or imply it wasn’t a big deal, quite the contrary. i just say “this was years ago!” to explain that my memory of you and what was going on at the time is probably gonna be at least a lil fuzzy.

(i would have accepted your reasoning if you didnt just point out that you werent doing it for this suspicious reason in a very suspicious way)

ANYWAYS im fucking tired. im fucking exhuasted. im fucking dying to death. will you guys miss me

[sobdasha]

I abused punctuation marks, italics, lifting wholesale from the flippant rough draft sketch notes including capslock, and an extremely extra narrative voice to write this. And I regret nothing.

katia asked: Drabble: Hatori and Mayu and "Marry me?”

--

Mayuko is not a goddamn cake. She is...she is a fine wine, damnit. The kind that gets better with patience, that becomes a comfortable part of the cellar décor first before it's enjoyed.

So if she's nearing thirty and she's not married yet that's fine. Society is dumb. Her parents are dumb (she loves them anyway). She can wait.

However long it takes Hatori to be ready to propose, she can wait.

Yes.

That's precisely why she lays her face down on the tabletop, on top of all the travel brochures, and bangs it with her fist.

"Marry me!" she wails. "I can't take it anymore, Hatori! Let's just get the paperwork filed and be done with it! You're a guy so it's not like you even care if we skip the ceremony anyway!"

Hatori raises his eyebrows behind the brochure he's skimming, but doesn't put it down. "Thank you," he says, "for that gross generalization, coming from the woman who doesn't seem to care much about her own wedding either."

That's...okay, you know what, Mayu's going to let that one go. She has greater things at stake here than trading insults, fun as bickering is.

She pounds her fist on the table one more time for good measure, then tilts her chin up and rests it on her other forearm. Instead of suffocating face-down in brochures. She is an adult grown-up woman. Somehow. People pay her to boss teenagers around. She is dignified.

(She has no dignity that is a lie.)

"Look," Mayu says, "I thought my parents were bad! But your family--"

It's not like she's unsympathetic to Hatori's loss. Her parents may still drive her crazy even though she's not a teenager anymore--actually, scratch that, Mayu's parents are so much worse now than they ever were when she was, you know, not out of the house yet.

But she can't imagine, really, that sort of hole in her life. Even if, by all accounts, Hatori wasn't particularly close with his parents.

But, well, there's that little part of Mayu that's, yes, a tiny bit (extremely, deeply, earnestly) grateful that the only marriage-crazy parents she has to deal with are her own.

She's seen the Souma family. They're… uptight is a good way to put it. They can be very, very uptight about Tradition and Old-Fashioned Values. The in-laws could have been a nightmare.

Except that Hatori's bringing to a marriage something even worse than a mother-in-law--a head of family.

To be fair, Akito isn't the same person Mayu once heard about. The one who threw a vase at Hatori's head and purposefully drove Kana to a nervous breakdown and health crisis.

Well. Okay. Actually Akito is that same person, except that in the intervening years she's learned a lot more about consequences and empathy and positive ways to work through abuse. And she's on a desperate, hellbent mission to prove this.

A case in point:

Okinawa, sunburns aside, is great. It's a step in the right direction! Yes! Two adults! Of the opposite sex! Going on a vacation! Together! The two of them! As...friends! Special friends??? Special friends!! Who get one room with two beds even though Hatori's footing the bill and he's filthy rich and he could get two just-friendly-friends rooms if he really wanted!

And then! When they come back! Hatori proposes the idea that they could make an official, formal announcement to his family that they're dating!

They're dating!

(Hatori offers to come with her to tell her parents as well, but Mayu declines. He won't admit it but Mayu is very sure that her mother has called him multiple times to ask when Hatori's planning to marry Mayu and that's with Mayu telling her parents calmly at the top of her voice that they are friends just friends don't you dare bother him and also he changed his phone number. So. No, thank you.)

So Hatori sets up an audience for the two of them with Akito. Because he's thoughtful. Because there won't be vases this time, and he'd like Akito to know that he knows that.

They wait outside the room.

A maid opens the sliding doors.

Neither of them has managed to set a foot across the threshold yet when Akito blurts YES WONDERFUL MY BLESSINGS UPON THIS UNION WE ARE ALL HAPPY THAT YOU TWO ARE HAPPY, INCIDENTALLY ARE YOU THINKING OF A SHINTO CEREMONY OR A WHITE WEDDING, WHATEVER MAKES YOU HAPPY OF COURSE THE SOUMA MONEY WILL SEE YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL WEDDING WHICHEVER YOU CHOOSE.

So...that goes well.

And it only gets worse. Because that outburst is not the end of it, no, that is the beginning.

"Akito keeps asking me about wedding dresses!" Mayu whines. Wait. No. Not whines. Calmly explains, like an adult, obviously, not like a practically 30-year-old who is flopped on the kitchen table and sulking and thinking that long hair was much handier for metaphorically tearing out in frustration.

"She won't stop! She has my phone number! She keeps texting me to ask which kinds of styles I like! And of course with the Souma family financing the wedding money is no object, have you considered designer dresses Mayuko, surely they make something that will actually be flattering and make you not look like a boy despite your height and your chest and your hair--!"

Hatori chuckles. Hatori, that jackass, has the audacity to chuckle in such a trying time!

"To be fair," he interrupts, "I suspect that's just Akito using you as a sort of dressmaker's dummy. Don't take it personally."

"No one's ever mistaken me for a man," Mayu hisses.

But she can only keep putting Akito off for so long. And what if Akito, in desperation at Mayu's lack of responsiveness, reaches out to Mayu's parents?

"What if Akito talks to my parents about wedding planning?!"

Mayu's fist is banging on the table again. A handful of innocent travel brochures flutter to the floor. Hatori reaches out and lays his hand over hers, pinning it to the tabletop.

"So you don't want a wedding ceremony," he says.

"I'd rather take all their lectures and die first."

"That's not at all melodramatic," Hatori says, uncurling her fingers and straightening her hand out under his.

And then: "But we won't be able to submit our forms until tomorrow. In the meantime, I'd appreciate it if you picked yourself up off the table and helped me get back to planning our honeymoon."

Mayu kicks Hatori's shin under the table, but smiles behind the cover of her arm.