#Type 390

[my-castles-crumbling]

antlers - jegulus - discord server microprompt challenge - word count: 390 - NSFW, very clear implications

Somewhere, in the very back of his completely dazed brain, Regulus could hear Sirius's voice. He could remember what his brother had said. How he'd warned him.

"He's your type, Reg. But don't you dare even think about it. He's my best friend and you're my brother. That would be...weird."

But for some strange reason, Sirius's voice was muffled now. All of Regulus's senses were. Except his eyesight, of course, which was stronger than usual as he took in every minute detail of the man in front of him.

He'd done well for a while. As he'd been introduced to James Potter for the first time, he resolved to behave himself. Yes, the other man was absolutely drool-worthy, but Regulus had self control. He wasn't an animal. It didn't matter that James was looking at him like he was the only man in the bar. It didn't matter that his entire body was on-edge, every nerve begging him to reach out and touch the plains and ridges of the stunningly muscular man in front of him.

And then, James had started speaking. His positivity and laugh made Regulus almost irritated with how sweet it was. He tried his best to scowl and roll his eyes, all the while internally melting with James's every smile and laugh. Why was he feeling like this?

But he still kept it together. He could keep it together.

And the flirting...James started flirting. He tried to turn him away by sending him quips and teasing insults, but the other man just gave it right back to him, smirking as he bit at his perfectly pink lip, an amused glint in his eye. How was someone this infuriatingly perfect? God, James was....

A quick kick from Sirius brought him back to himself for a moment.

He managed for about five more minutes. Until James stood to get the next round, and Regulus looked over to see that his shirt had ridden up a bit, exposing a tattoo of antler spread across his hipbones.

"Fuck," Regulus whined. Because his brain couldn't not picture the way those antlers would look when Regulus was on his knees. His mouth watered.

Standing and not even looking back at his brother, Regulus walked quickly to the bar and grabbed James's hand, dragging him to the bathroom.

Yeah, he wasn't even sorry.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Meaningful Kiss 3

SUMMARY: Would they make Public Displays of Affection? If not, are they protective instead? And how do they show you how much they truly love you through their kisses?

CHARACTERS: Ruggie, Jade, Kalim, Silver, Lilia

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Established Relationship, Kissing, Flirting, Slightly Suggestive (?)

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character.

COMMENTS: I started writing this for the Overblot Students and because it did so well I made a second one for the Freshmen. Then, as I like to try to include all the characters, I decided to write for the ones that were missing. These were the characters with the most votes to be in the 3rd part. The rest were left for the 4th part.

I hope you enjoy 😘💋

Meaningful Kiss 4 (Cater, Trey, Floyd, Rook)

CONTEXT: This can be seen as if you were at the beginning of the relationship, or already in an established relationship.

PDA for Ruggie is the most casual thing in the world. Whenever you are together he will have one arm either around your shoulders or around your waist. It's like a magnet, you get closer to him and his arm automatically wraps around you. Unless you didn't want to or the situation is more serious, of course. He's the type to hug you from behind and rest his chin on your head in a way that doesn't hurt you.

From the outside and at first glance, he makes it appear as if he is simply very touchy-feely. But the unconscious truth is that he is overprotective and territorial. No one can touch what's his! He's like that with food, with his belongings and with his significant other. It's an instinct thing. This doesn't mean he's controlling, if you're fine and happy, he's fine and happy. It’s just to make sure no jerk gets too close to you.

He might get a little jealous from time to time if you're very close to Ace and Deuce, for example, but never to the point of threatening them to stay away from you. He would never date someone he doesn't trust 100%.

Most likely he will help you with your household chores and ask for your help with his. Not because he needs help, but because he wants your company. Doing these kinds of things with you puts him at ease and makes him feel loved. It also makes him imagine what your life would be like together in a little house, but that's a conversation for another time.

When you're alone, he's still very into hugging you and being close to you, but in a more relaxed and lazy way. He likes to mess with you. You'll probably have a few tickle battles here and there.

In public, his kisses on your cheeks range from soft to playfully passionate. On the lips they always remain soft and casual.

Of course, the most meaningful kisses will be those in private, where his instinct doesn't encourage you to be protective. When you're relaxing together, he won't let go of you. He's the big spoon type. He will gently kiss your cheeks, ears and neck. And on the lips, they'll start out soft too, but if you let him get into the mood, they can become as possessive as the instinct he's trying to control.

Jade is not exactly the PDA type. A nice way of saying that it embarrasses him. He doesn't like to attract much attention and likes to maintain a low profile. So he won't initiate PDA and will appreciate it if you don't either. However, what he doesn't do physically, he makes up for verbally.

He may not be the type to hug you in public, but he is definitely the type to say something in public just to see you blushing and flattered in front of others. However, he does this discreetly. So that people usually only see your reaction without understanding very well what led you to that. He loves messing with you to see how your reactions can surprise him.

He will say things in your ear as if it were something casual. Or saying things out loud, but using words and phrases with double meanings, as a way of camouflaging what he really means or misleading the person, but affecting you in the process. Like a comment that to others seems innocent, but you know from something that happened between the two of you that he was referring to something else.

Even though he's not a fan of PDA, he sees no harm in kissing you hello and goodbye. A delicate and courteous kiss.

In private, he already appreciates the simple fact that you are keeping him company while he does some solo activity like taking care of his terrariums. However, despite the appearance he wants to give as a relatively peaceful person, inside, he is as much a lover of chaos as his twin brother. But in his case, he is the arsonist, not the fire.

In the same way that he likes to provoke you in public, he can be a thousand times worse in private, not holding back with his words and being more sincere since there are no "witnesses". In public he's just a little playful, but in private, what he loves most is discovering how far he can go, how far you can hold back. He loves to push your limits. Not in a bad way, of course.

And it's at these times, when he manages to pull that string that incites you to fight back in kind, that eventually, after a little more mutual incitement, he will return the kiss you initiate with his most meaningful one. That dangerously mischievous and provocative feeling. He loves to play with you.

But of course Kalim is an innocent PDA fan! What does Jamil mean by holding back and being discreet? He loves you! Why would love be something you should hide? He shows how much he likes and cares about someone, whether they are friends or family, to everyone. The same would be no different with you. In fact, you are the one who deserves the most for him to show you his love.

He will hug you and stay close to you ANY chance he gets. Whenever he sees you, he will stop whatever he is doing to run up to you and hug you. Whenever you see him and say hello, you'll see his smile widen and... him running up to you to hug you. He's more of a hugger than a kisser, at least in public. He will shower you with gifts, expensive, cheap, extravagant, simple, small, big, whatever you love. Unintentionally, causing envy in those around you.

He is 0% jealous, probably because he is also naive. This can also cause him to not be very protective, as he never sees the bad in others. In these cases, Jamil is the one who protects you if necessary, in the same way he does with Kalim. And, most likely, you are the one who will have to protect Kalim instead.

He's a people person, so it's rare that you're alone together. He likes parties and being with as many people as possible. The difference with you is that he never leaves you and if he wants to go talk to someone he will take you with him.

This also means that his most meaningful kisses, unlike most, are not necessarily the ones he gives you in private. He may be a person who likes to hug others in general when he is happy. But the kisses he gives you on your lips when he's excited, especially if he's in a celebratory mood, are the most passionate and loving you can receive from him.

Silver is pretty neutral to PDA. He doesn't initiate it, but he also has no problem reciprocating if you initiate it. The thing is, he's a very clueless person, so unless you clearly express in words that you want a hug, or a kiss, or just hold hands, he won't know.

On the other hand, if you decide with him, for example, that whenever you meet for the first time in the day he has to give you a kiss, he will give you that sweet smile of his and accept your request. He will follow this order to the letter and never miss a day or think twice about doing it.

He is not jealous, but he is quite protective. Since his actions do not reveal your relationship, people who don't know you at that level end up not even suspecting that you're together. His naivety and poker face only consolidate this.

And then two things can happen: in the best case scenario, he ends up casually revealing that you are dating, for example, if someone talks about a certain place, he comments "Yes, we went there on our last date." In the worst case scenario, someone tries to "woo" you and he suddenly takes over as your guard, surprising and probably even scaring the other person with his defensive posture, either placing himself between you and the other person, or stretching an arm in front of you, with his back to you. But the scariest thing will be discovering that that poker face can also transform into a threatening look.

As he doesn't express himself much, his kisses also end up being rare. Which makes them not only more special, but also makes him not having a more meaningful kiss, because the simple fact that he kisses you already is the most meaningful thing he will ever do.

All his kisses are soft, sweet and delicate, both the ones he occasionally gives you on your cheek and the ones he gives you on your lips. That kind of kiss that makes you feel like you're the most precious thing in the world and that makes you forget everything that's around you. Like those true love kisses in fairy tales when the prince wakes up the princess.

Lilia is 100% into PDA! He likes to surprise others and he always manages to do so when he is with you. Not only can he surprise others with spontaneous PDA, he can make you blush in seconds. It's like killing two birds with one stone, metaphorically of course.

He's the type to come up behind you and hug you, putting his arms around your shoulders. And if you're taller than him, no problem, he floats. He's also the type who would take advantage of these moments to say something in your ear that would make you blush.

There's a good chance he'll also play the following game with you: appearing upside down, giving you a kiss on the cheek and disappearing when you look. And repeat this 3 or 4 times until he finally reveals himself in front of you and gives you a quick kiss on the lips. (spider-man style)

He is protective in his own way. If he can, he will train you like he trained Silver and Sebek. If not, he will teach you what he can and what you can handle, so that you can defend yourself. He doesn't give the fish, he teaches the person how to fish. If there is a type of person he likes and admires, it is a strong and independent one.

However, he is aware that no matter how much he trains you, you will always be at a disadvantage to someone who uses magic. And if you are a female, you will be most of the time, if not always at a disadvantage to a male. In these cases, he doesn't mind "fishing himself”, he even enjoys doing it. He will protect you the same way he would protect the Draconia family, Silver, and any other loved one.

In public he is just playful, and his displays of affection too. He likes others to see him as cute because he knows how it gives him an advantage. Not only is it a form of pretty privilege, it's also a way for enemies to look down on him and thus let their guard down.

In private however, he cannot deceive you. You know that that cute side is a true side of him, but you also know that it's not the only side of him and that he's not as "innocent" and "harmless" as he likes to make it seem.

And his most meaningful kisses demonstrate this. They happen when he has that mischievous look in his eyes. When he takes off his “sheep’s clothes” and shows his real “wolf snout”. When he confidently approaches you with a naughty smile, and you're reminded how vivid the red in his eyes is. His kiss is elegant but dominant, almost like... a vampire perhaps?

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[cybrasigilism]

Hi! I really loved all your works, especially This Means War. I wanted to ask if you can write the second part cause it’s sooo interesting

All Is Fair (This Means War Pt ll)

warning: typical squid game stuff (guns mention, blood and death), love triangle (?), reader replaces gyeong-su (player 256) | ooc(?), these are my interpretations of these characters, please be respectful even if my opinions differ from your own

characters: kang dae-ho (player 388), thanos/choi su-bong (player 230)

[minor characters mentioned: players 456, 001, 390, 222, 124, 380 (seong gi-hun, young-il/hwang in-ho, park jung-bae, kim jun-hee, nam-gyu, se-mi]

-

A/N: you guys have asked and i shall deliver! i did my nails before writing this and lemme tell you typing an entire fic on my phone with acrylics was not easy work! i hope you guys enjoy :3

ENJOY!

╔═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╗

your head was completely reeling.

you were thrown into these games completely blind. sure you were desperate and strapped for cash, but as soon as you bore witness to countless people lose their lives over a game of Red Light Green Light, you decided that no amount of money was worth such a heartless and gruesome death.

so you were counting your blessings when the time to vote rolled around, absolutely you were going to vote “X” and get the everloving fuck out of there, as you were sure everyone else would make the same choice. i mean, who in their right mind would want to stay in such a place? you figured that even if people were desperate, the stakes were just too high for anyone to handle. although your brief conversation with your new friend player 388, AKA dae-ho, seemed to lift your mood just a bit, you wanted to get the hell out of that place. you found yourself approaching him when the players gathered up to await their chance to cast their vote, you figured it couldn’t hurt to stay close to a friend, especially now.

“at least we still get our share of the prize money if we do end up leaving.” you commented, as the players before you began to disperse into the X and O sides of the room. “yeah, i guess..” dae-ho seemed distant, you noticed that he was analyzing that golden, luminous piggy bank that loomed over everyone as some sick motivator. “but even that much won’t be enough for some people’s debts.” you chuckled at the last bit of his statement, covering your mouth with your hand as you did so. “what’s the joke?” he asked, looking down at you with a raised eyebrow. “i mean, if you’re debt is that big, then there’s bigger problems for sure.” you giggled, met with silence from 388. you looked up at him to be met with an expression that caused a lump in your throat; realizing what you had just said. “oh my god wait, i didn’t mean-“ “it’s fine.” he interrupted, attempting to hide the shame in his voice. coincidentally, that just so happened to be the exact moment that dae-ho’s number was called, and he walked up without a word. you felt your cheeks grow warmer, but this time it wasn’t from any good feeling— you were completely embarrassed at how ignorant you had just been with your friend, and unfortunately for you, someone else had seen this whole uncomfortable interaction take place.

thanos approached you with swift succession once dae-ho had cast his vote, which you watched as your heart sank; seeing the number increase by one underneath the “O” on the scoreboard. the purple-haired rapper had been standing behind you for a prolonged period of time before he made himself known with a

tap tap tap

on your shoulder, you whipped around and felt your expression harden when you realized the culprit. “seems like homeboy is too sensitive, that’s unfortunate.” he joked, crossing his arms as he referenced dae-ho’s general direction quickly with his gaze. you rolled your eyes and scoffed. “you don’t have a clue what’s going on, it’s none of your business.” you didn’t want to give the obnoxious has-been any more attention than he was already getting, as you were given full demonstration of before. you turned away, restoring your view to the front which virtually did nothing to deter thanos, as he followed suit and adjusted his own positioning accordingly. “whatever happened, it definitely wasn’t your fault-“ you couldn’t believe how persistent this guy was, it pissed you off to the nth degree. “why do you care? it has nothing to do with you.. i don’t know why you bother inserting yourself.” you refused to even look at him, you didn’t know how or why but he was truly pissing you off at the very moment.

“shit, y’ don’t need to be on the offensive señorita.” thanos crossed his arms, eyeing every single player who voted X. you shot him a glare, where did he get off giving you a nickname like that? “don’t you dare call me that again.” you hissed through gritted teeth, poking him in the chest as you said so. this caught you and thanos completely off guard, but you weren’t surprised you were lashing out now; this place made everyone tense, clearly. you heard your number get called just then, talk about perfect timing, and you were able to leave the situation with the last word. but little did you know then, you would not be having the last laugh.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

it was back up those never ending stairs again. one thing was for certain, you were getting an insane workout through all of this. you scoured the numbers of the crowd for dae-ho’s 388, and sure enough you found him. he was more towards the front, and you shamelessly pushed past various other contestants to get to him. you wanted to set the record straight about what you had said yesterday, the moment was on constant replay in your brain during lights out and you truly just felt awful. the look of hurt on his face would forever be imprinted in the back of your mind, even if he forgave you.

“388!” you called out, catching his attention. much to your shock, he spun around rather earnestly at the sound of your voice, to be honest you were expecting him to ignore you. “oh, hey (Y/N)! i was wondering where you were.” you were taken aback at how friendly he was being with you, as if you hadn’t made a very personal jab the other night— however unintentional it may have been. “are you alright..?” you asked, not doing much to mask the unease in your voice. he cocked his head in a confused manner, laughing almost nervously. “me? i mean i’m nervous i guess but i’d say i’m alright— i’ve got a new group of allies now so that’s good!” he nodded over to the three older men walking in front of you two. you recognized one of these men, 456, as the guy who was getting everyone through the first game. “oh, well that’s good..” you felt yourself trail off, had he completely forgotten what happened between you two at the voting? dae-ho noticed the solemn expression now decorating your face. “are you alright?”

“i don’t know..” you inadvertently avoided eye contact as you all began to make your way through a series of doors. “i feel awful about yesterday.. i really don’t know why i said that.” you confessed. you could see dae-ho mentally putting the pieces together before his eyes widened, an audible gasp of realization leaving his lips. after a moment, he couldn’t help but let out a chuckle. “oh, don’t worry about that! i know you didn’t mean anything by it—“ he laughed, patting your back. “you mean your not mad at me?” your eyes lit up in an almost cartoonish manner, earning a warm smile from your friend. “of course not! i get that this place is definitely putting everyone on edge, so people won’t really act like themselves.” you were so relieved at dae-ho’s sheer level of understanding. “so… we’re cool, then?” you ask. “yeah,” dae-ho affirms, looking down at you in the same way he did after Red Light Green Light, “we’re cool.”

things were all fine and dandy, that lump of shame had gone away from your throat, you were feeling better again— you almost completely forgot that you were all about to be subject to more sick games. the crowd of people dispersed into a giant room with rainbow-sky walls and what seemed to be two large rainbow tracks on the floor. as the voice on the intercom explained the game, and detailed the fact that teams of five were required, you and dae-ho nodded to one another as if to mentally solidify being on each other’s team. “well this works out perfectly,” one of dae-ho’s newly established friends, player 390, happily concluded. “now that dae-ho’s friend is joining us, we’ve got a team already!” you were amused to be apart of their team, as they already seemed to have such a firm bond. “and here you were, worried we wouldn’t be able to form a team fast enough.” player 001 remarked, looking to player 456 who still seemed a bit uneasy. you couldn’t blame him of course, he was probably still working through some stuff mentally after his first encounter with these games.

“if we don’t end up going first,” 456 began, catching the group’s attention. “we should watch the others closely as they play.” dae-ho nodded in agreement. “yeah! we could pick up on their strategies, to give us a better chance at winning.” you all chatted amongst yourselves, coming up with a game plan (no pun intended) for what was sure to be quite the nail biter of a game. you guys almost didn’t hear the little voice that called to your attention.

“can i please join your team?”

you all turned around and were met with a short woman with very unique hair, sporting the number 222 on her jacket. she seemed almost desperate, as if having been turned down by every other group. “sorry miss, but we already have five.” 390 explained sympathetically, but 222 was persistent. “please.” she begged again, this time bringing a hand to her belly. “i’m pregnant.” if there was anything to change the game, it was that. you guys locked eyes for a moment, before you spoke up.

“you can absolutely be apart of their team!” her eyes lit up from the defeated countenance she wore a second ago. the men looked at you stunned, dae-ho especially. “it’s alright, if there’s already five i can ask someone else-“

“i won’t hear it.” you insisted, catching 222 off guard. you could tell she didn’t want to take your place, but you would feel awful if someone in her condition was to lose their life in a place like this. “you need a strong, reliable group. i can find someone else, it’s no trouble.”

“if you’re sure..” 222 said, “thank you.” you nodded, before walking off. you looked back for a brief moment, even if you died in these games, you could hold your head up knowing that you just did the right thing. however, the look of fear and concern that dae-ho was giving you didn’t fail to break your heart. you knew he was worried but you also knew that that decision needed to be made.

you roamed the area somewhat aimlessly, starting to lose hope of claiming an empty spot in one of the teams. each player you made eye contact with gave you a disgusted look before turning their backs to you. you weren’t going to lie, every time you glanced at the clock your palms got slightly more sweaty. god were you going to be eliminated before the game even began? you’re mind began to resume reeling until

“hey, did you want to join our team?”

you spun around faster than you’d care to admit, eyes widened in desperation. a cool, punk rock looking chick donning the number 380 was standing before you, head cocked in anticipation. without a question you nodded and accepted her invite, to which she simply said “sweet, follow me.”, and that you certainly did. you wondered who your new team was, surely they were a group of standup individuals— well, as standup as one could be in an establishment like this one.

all of your hopes were entirely dashed when you saw just who was apart of your team.

thanos. man you just could not escape this guy, huh. he was surprised to see you too, though more on the pleasant side than you were. “woah, we meet again señorita.” you rolled your eyes at the nickname once again, seems like you were stuck with it now. “you know this rando?” the player dubbed 124, standing suspiciously close to thanos piped up, gesturing towards you. “that’s the one i was telling you about.” thanos explained, giving his friend a side glance. “ah, the ‘playing hard to get’ girl..” 380 cleared her throat, catching these two boys off guard. “y’know it’s rude to talk about people as if they aren’t standing right there.” you were relieved that you had someone else to stand up for you here. 124 snickered. “well if it bothers her that much she can always leave—“ “no.” thanos interjected, extending an arm infront of his buddy. “she stays.” he raised his eyebrows in a suggestive way as if you were supposed to thank him for his ‘noble’ act.

just then, the timer came to an end, and all the teams were instructed to sit down in designated lines. even if you wanted to leave, it was too late. you were stuck with thanos and his weird friend. but at least 380 seemed to have your back. as the first team was getting set up you found yourself thinking about dae-ho. you hoped their team made it through, hell you actually hoped they survived more than you thought about your own survival. you had never prayed to anything, for anything in all your life. but in that moment, you prayed as hard as you could for one thing.

“dear god, not like this.”

╚═══*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*═══╝

AT LAST, PART 2 IS COMPLETE!! idk if i’ll do a part 3 or not, it all depends on if you guys like it! i really hope this was up to standard, and worth the wait. i pulled out the big guns for this one but part of me is worried it doesn’t make a lick of sense 😅 regardless of my lack of writer’s confidence, i truly hope you enjoyed!

have a magnificent day/night lovelies 💋

tags: @gongyoosgf @strangelife122 @agornotsworld @kvstjwonnie @marymustdie @pink-apples001 @fiicalapsiholoaga @wonestro @luvlyfandoms @putrescentpoet @l5byrinth @chxrrybomb22 @deathsmellzz @bl4z3db4by @katscloudy

[astropookie]

asteroids related to love 💝

ao haru ride

ik this is too cheesy for my style but hope it may help :) these asteroids are just a few compared to the existing.

self love

hygeia (10): how to maintain a healthy relationship between body and soul.

medea (212): represents our healing ability. archetype of Pluto/scorpio. where we make mistakes again and again, vengeful, practically process of healing.

fated connections

devine (3561): if it has aspects with other’s person planets/asteroids could indicate a trascendental connection.

libby (5672): represents fated connections.

aura (1488): represents an intuitive connection.

karma (3811): indicates you’re destined to meet with these person due to past-life unfinished business.

destinn (6583): strong connection, destiny like.

pholus (5145): if it’s in synastry/composite chart, indicates unexpected events that would change the trajectory of your life -that has to do with this connection-.

sposetti (22354): means “married couple” in Italian. marriage potential, past life marriages or special connections.

betrayal

oenone (215): indicates people where you have been cheated on/ left by lovers or simply felt betrayal.

love synonyms

paeonia (1061): represents a flower that symbolizes love, honor and wealth.

olathe(18984): lovely, beautiful.

loving (432971): loving emotions.

ask (4894): represents the way you love someone, “love” in turkish.

liebe (7696): “love” in german. romantic expectations and needs.

pure/unconditional love

ceres (1): unconditional love, depth we’re willing to go for the ones we love.

alma (390): represents the desire of expanding our heart while time passes, optimism for love and romance.

agapenor (5023): simple appreciation. unconditional love that can last through ages, not only romantic. altruistic love.

valentine (447): sacrificial type of love, deep bonds between two people. indicates the urge to give our all without asking anything in return.

child (4580): represents our inner child. pure, unfiltered, innocent love.

isis (42): desire to nurture/protect the ones we love and care about. also may represent leadership qualities. loyalty, devotion, between others.

romantic love

amor (1221): means love in spanish. represents what we need to show/break patterns to commit with the person we want to love.

cupido (763): represents how you fall in love. I’ll think on this asteroid more like a “crush” type of “love”, innocent at first.

juno (3): can represent our romantic boundaries, what we will do for romantic -not necessarily- relationships and I have a post of juno series if you’d like an interpretation of your juno sign.

union (1585): inner need of deep and meaningful connections -any type-. indicates qualities of the relationship in composite charts.

adonis (2101): ideal type, plus if you like masculine.

groom (5129): indicates how do we approach role of marriage -long term commitment- in their life. who you may end up having this relationship, depending on your preferences.

briede (19029): like asteroid groom, associated with commitment, etc. like the name, dependa in preferences.

others

companion (8490): shows wanting to be all the time with that person. what are you looking for in a long term connection (romantic or not).

anteros (1943): manner which you reciprocate love, requited love.

luda (1158): where do people adore/love you.

link (3505): indicates the type of connection -close- between partners.

lovelock (51663): obsessive love, like the name.

galatea (74): imo idealization of our type of a person.

akashi (5881): requires introspection/exploration. hidden knowledge and potential. has to do with how our past relationships affects our present and future.

(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ૮꒰ྀི⸝⸝> . <⸝⸝꒱ྀིა ∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗ */ᐠ - ˕ -マ✩ (˶˃ᆺ˂˶)∗ ࣪ ( ๑ ˃̵ᴗ˂̵ )و ✩

♡ Based on personal experience and I’ve analyzed in my surroundings.

♡ English is not my first language.

♡ I’m not a profesional astrologer.

Thank youu. baibaiii🫣🫶🏼💋

Do not copy. Please give me credits.

[uyuforu]

Hi! When you draw a solar/lunar return/natal chart on astro.com, what asteroids would you recommend to include? Apart from the ones you get if you choose the "Astrodienst w. asteroids“ drawing style. I‘ve been ignoring them for years and I feel like I‘m missing out lmao, but having to type the asteroid numbers out is really bothersome to me 😭💀 Thank you in advance <3. Also sorry if you have a post where you talked about something similar. I tried to look before asking but I couldn’t find anything

I have a list of all asteroids I have, and depending on what you wanna see, you can check those here ^^

Romance Asteroids

° Juno (3) (marriage and soulmate)

° Destinn (6583) (destiny)

° Groom (5129) (groom)

° Boda (1487) (marriage)

° Briede (19029) (bride)

° Union (1585) (how do we meet fs)

° Eros (433) (kinks and sex)

° Kiss (8267) (kiss style)

° Lovelock (51663) (how do we fall in love)

° Cupido (763) (how do we fall in love)

° Valentine (447) (cute, pure, tender love)

° Amor (1221) (passionate love)

° Alma (390) (Soulmates/ Twin Flames/ Karmics/ Soul Links)

° Alinda (887) (kissing, making out)

Fame Asteroids

° Fama (408) (fame, rumors, gossips)

° Europa (52) (fame and recognition)

° Mireille (594) (easily gaining people’s love and admiration)

° Glo (3267) (glowing shining, attention)

° Lumier (775) (where do you shine)

° Populus (8647) (being popular and well known)

° Musa (600) (inspiring other)

° Starr (4150) (shining, standing out)

° Zeus (5731) (gaining fame)

° Varuna (amazing and incredible fame) (20000)

° Fan (151590)

Money Asteroids

°Abundantia (151) (having a lot of money, abundance and inheritance)

° Mony (7782) (how can we obtain money)

° Fortuna (19)

° Tyche (258)

° Banks (13956)

° Gold (4955)

° Midas (1981)

Spiritual Asteroids

° Teller (5006) (Tarot abilities)

° Apollo (1862) (talents)

° Kalchas (4138) (divination talents)

° Horus (1924) (linked to 3rd eye)

° Arrokoth (486958) (astrology talents)

° Estrella (11697) (shining, beauty and talents of astrology)

° Merlin (2598) (magic and prophetic abilities)

° Spirit (37452) (seeing spirits and entities and communicating with them)

° Telephus (5264) (linked to telepathy)

° Aura (1488) (Ability to see the real aura or intentions of people)

° Karma (3811)

° Erda (894) (our past life)

° Spirit (37452) (our spirit guys)

Talents Asteroids

° Dones (21965) (our natural gift)

° Probitas (902) (being good and excellent)

° Carrera (3050) (our career)

° Industria (389) (our career)

° webb (3041) (the internet)

Psychology & Medical Talents Asteroids

° Hylonome (10370) (psychologist abilities)

° Makhaon (3063) (talent for medicine and healing)

° Anahita (270) (creative and therapeutic talents)

Writing & Communication Asteroids

° Calliope (22) (writing and singing)

° Erato (62) (writing poetry, romance and erotic matters)

° Biblialexa (51895) (writing or reading books)

° Murray (941) (excellent communicator, writer, speeches, etc)

° Elatus (31834) (good at speaking in public, amazing speeches)

° Kleopatra (216) (being loved and admired by our communicating skills)

° Mnemosyne (57) (good communicator, good at telling stories, good at acting with our voice)

Acting Asteroids

° Thalia (23) (ability to entertain and comedy)

° Lumiere (775) (acting abilities)

° Melpomene (18) (acting abilities and dark writing)

° Actor (12238) (being an actor)

° Mnemosyne (57) (good communicator, good at telling stories, good at acting with our voice)

° Fantomas (242492) (Acting skills)

Singing & Musical Asteroids

° Cantor (16246) (sings a lot and talent in singing)

° Harmonia (40) (singing abilities)

° Singer (10698) (singing abilities and talent)

° Terpsichore (81) (dancing and singing)

° Piani (10573) (related to piano and playing instruments)

° Euterpe (27) (musical talent)

° Echo (60) (beautiful voice)

° Melpomene (18) (Muse of Singing)

Painting & Cooking Asteroids

° Pintar (33103) (painting)

° Van Gogh (4457) (painting)

° Picasso (4221) (painting)

° Cook (3061) (cooking abilities)

° Baker (2549) (baking abilities)

Sexual Asteroids

° Eros (433) (kinks & sex)

° 1988 XB (7753) (extreme sexual activity)

° 1996 TL66 (15874) (discharge, squirting)

° 2002 XW93 (78799) (group sex)

° 2005 PQ21 (134210) (porn, extreme sexual activity)

° 2010 EN65 (316179) (discharge, orgasm)

° 2000 CO104 (999004) (orgasm, ecstasy)

° Alinda (887) (rough, passionate sex)

° Ignatius (3562) (our kinks, the one we keep as secret)

° Kama (1387) (how we have sex, our sex style)

° Lust (4386) (our sex style, what turn us on, our sexual desires)

Children & Home Asteroids

° Child (4580) (inner child)

° DNA (55555) (our DNA, children)

° House (4950) (our home)

Hoping it can help! You can also check those on other types of chart ^^

[psblooms]

“I would not wish any companion in the world but you.”

𓏲 ๋࣭  ࣪ ˖ enhypen hyung line x fem reader fluff works word count: 390 established relationship, non-idol au, little dates together

I feel like heeseung ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 would be the type to create at-home dates, after work, he picks up some ice cream and orders takeout so you can have a movie date, or just talk and catch up while he does your hair, or play video games together and letting you win telling you you´ve been improving. maybe one day, on a rainy night, he´ll want to create a pillow fort with fairy lights and have you sleep in it and then refuse to pick it up because "it was a nice memory" (he just doesn´t want to clean up).

jongseong ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 would be the type of boyfriend who loves to take you out every weekend to a new restaurant, and he always picks up the places with nice menus and live music, after a good amount of places, you both choose a handful of your favorites and become regulars. he would also like to go to different concerts to spend time with you (he’ll drive you anywhere to see your favorite artist) and so you can spend the ride back sharing your opinions . after that, you will have new songs in your shared playlist.

he wants to get out of both of your routines, jaeyun ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 would book different activities and surprise you so that you can spend time out of the house, he´ll try everything, from simple activities like painting, or going bowling, to a lot more time-consuming like pottery and rug tufting. be sure he is going to keep everything you made together even if it does not look pretty. he would also love going to the arcade and escape rooms every now and then (even if both of you take a lot of time finding clues).

sunghoon ๋࣭  ࣪𓍼 would make it his life mission to visit every. single. coffee shop in the city, he would take it so seriously and have a rating of them in his notes app. he takes you so you can share the experience, and even if he liked the place, if you didn´t, his rating would change. he would take photos of you and the things you ordered "for the sake of his coffee journal" after, he would take you sightseeing if you are in a different area from your usual still taking photos of you while holding the cups in his hands.

[dashielldeveron]

soulmate trope | shigaraki tomura

Shigaraki’s route of soulmate trope.

"post-canon shigaraki? canon isn't even finished as of when this was posted on 4 january 2024!"

yeah. thank god. gives us time to write our own endings. and obviously i will be wrong about some things. i recommend you read at least one other route, preferably dabi’s, before reading this one. warnings: female reader. manga spoilers up to around chapter 390-411ish, based on language used by others to describe shigaraki and his trauma. bodily consequences to his trauma (some things are intended to read as AFO having forced an ED on shigaraki, but this is not made definitive). sexual content. stalking. gore (in a game). reader is experiencing a type of gifted kid burnout.

~28k

There’s a hentai book lying on your bed.

You’ve never seen it before.

Flipping through it, you winced at the positions the large-titted, ponytailed woman was manhandled into, and though you were frankly impressed that she managed to wear such intricate lingerie underneath her everyday business attire, the protagonist only just got home from work; let her decompress for, like, ten minutes before railing her against the window, please.

Whom did you know who would read volume four of something called GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK?

Unfortunately, you were burdened with knowledge about your friends’ sexual habits, and some of them, therefore, were already ruled out: Shinsou only read erotica because he preferred his own imagination to any images hentai or live-action could provide, and Monoma only read hentai in which the woman’s eyes had hearts in them to let the reader know she’s enjoying it—not to mention Monoma wouldn’t buy a hard copy of it, let alone a story that didn’t have more plot and character development to it. There wasn’t enough drool for Sero to be interested, and the male protagonist wasn’t enough of a twink for Kaminari to project onto, so whose was this?

Moreover, who the fuck would come all the way back to your old school’s campus to break into your room to leave it on your bed? (Shinsou would be your best bet for that part, but whenever he finished a patrol nowadays, he went directly to sleep, and his and Monoma’s flat was across town.)

You cat, Dango, jumped onto the bed, slithering up next to you and bumping her head on your elbow affectionately.

“Is this yours?” you asked her, and she sniffed the book before climbing into your lap.

You tossed the book aside to pet your cat with both hands, and you resolved not to think about it any longer, even though the cringy way the mangaka depicted the female orgasm was burnt onto your brain.

***

Hopping to put your heel back into a ballet flat, you held the phone between your ear and shoulder while you struggled towards the lift. “I’ve got to cancel on you, Ochaco,” you said, flipping the back of your blazer collar down and adjusting the lapels, “I’m, fuck—I’m not gonna be able to make it this evening, so just go without me.”

Uraraka sighed on her end. “Okay. I know a lot of us were excited to see you after so long—there’s a card Tsu’s made us all to sign, and everything—but we’ll manage. ‘Spose we’ll just have a routine night at the bar and reschedule when you can make it. I miss you,” she said, “and I’m pretty sure I can say the same for everyone.”

The elevator door slid open, and you entered. “All of you are so clingy. I’ve only been away from the agency for around two months, and you know where to find me.” You mashed the button for the ground floor. “In fact, it’s embarrassingly easy to access me.”

“Well, we’re very busy,” said Uraraka, “People are very eager to conscript us for missions, even if they really could be done by the police. U.A. alumni have somehow upticked in their popularity even more since we graduated—”

“Ochaco, I know. I was there. Allow me to weep for your success. I am playing the world’s tiniest violin.” You shifted your bag’s full weight onto your shoulder and exited into the commons. “But listen. I’ve got to go; I’m running late this morning. I couldn’t find my pantyhose even though I laid them out last night, and they weren’t in any of my cat’s usual hiding places. I had to turn my flat upside down and still never found them.” The outside doors slid open when you approached, and the harsh, morning wind upset your hair on impact. “Give everyone my love, O. Tell Todoroki to smile in his next interview.” Eyes darting across your surroundings for any witnesses, you shrank in on yourself and bit the inside of your cheek. “And tell everyone I’m sorry, okay?”

By the time you arrived at U.A.’s administration building, the wind had been joined by a light drizzle that would probably morph into a storm within the hour, a prediction compounded by a plethora of faculty umbrellas in and beside the stand by the sliding doors. The front office was gloriously vacant, though, so you were able to slip behind the front desk without someone rebuking you for being—you shook the computer mouse to wake it up, the clock popping up in the corner—seventeen minutes late.

(You’d graduated with the rest of the class six months ago, and you’d founded the all-girls agency uptown, with most of the women in the graduating class joining to form an instant powerhouse of the industry.

Founding an agency appealed to a good deal of graduates, but you were the only one to go the distance: you were the one to actually make the calls, fill out the paperwork, get aggravating shit done, and by the time to move into the building, it had pleased you to no end that Midoriya had asked you for help on kickstarting his own.

And then two months ago, you’d pulled off, frankly, what was supposed to be an impossible rescue. For the first time, you were getting enormous amounts of attention, from civilians, from press, from other heroes—and you were being followed, never having more than a moment to yourself—always being watched, either from well-wishers or nay-sayers—and sometimes, the analytical critic, eager to point out your faults in the rescue mission to try to drag you out of the hero scene.

You hated yourself for this, but they won.

Too many expectations. All sinking down on you, as if no other hero existed while the light shone in your direction. [And you hated yourself for even daring to consider this—what reprehensible audacity, but—but was this how All Might had felt?]

You’d had something next door to a panic attack when a convenience store, a regular stop in your weekly routine, filmed your reaction to how they’d auctioned off your signed receipt for over nine hundred thousand yen. Breaking their cameras, Shinsou had to escort you out of there in a rush and call Aizawa for help.

Sobbing into Shinsou’s phone on the soggy concrete of a darkened alleyway, you did something you never fathomed you’d ever do, something you could never see any of your friends ever doing, something that seemed as alien and unthinkable as sticking your hand into a pit of needles: you begged Aizawa to get you out of the hero business.

You’ve been handled with care and relocated into a surprising covert secretarial job in the U.A. admin, Nezu’s logic was that you’d adjust to one person needing you at a time, say, over email or at the desk, and if you only answered the phone with only a shortened version of your name, then no intruding civilian would be the wiser.

The job was easy, anyway. Paid well for what it was, but perhaps that was simply standard for U.A. Nowhere nearly as well paying or exciting as working as a hero, but you were adjusting into mundanity. Some days had stretches of hours in which you didn’t interact with anyone, sitting at the front desk without a task, and you even had a few days in which you’d gone in, piddled around at the desk for your whole shift without seeing another soul, and gone home.

Your friends were always so busy. The two times you’ve been able to meet with them contained nothing but conversation about hero work, or else everything was somehow tangentially related to it, and you found yourself unable to contribute to the conversation. Both times, you’d left early, a little overstimulated, leaving Shinsou to make your excuses.

And Shinsou, bless him. Not avoiding you on purpose. In fact, you knew he’d drop almost anything for you to hang out, but you knew his schedule and how little rest he got. So, it was more of a self-imposed boundary on your side, taking into account that he needed sleep more than he needed to spend time with you.

So, yes, some of it was directly your fault, but you were achingly, astonishingly lonely, with an ever-lowering threshold for tolerance of outside stimulation, ultimately feeling like you didn’t belong here.)

Pens aligned. Coaster. Check the school email for—good, no emails. No voicemail. Get out your planner and write your hours in it to look busy. Hey, your water bottle’s nearing empty; maybe you could go fill it or even waste time brewing coffee. But where’s your work mug? You probably left it on the cleaning rack next to the office sink. You should go check.

“Hey,” said Aizawa out of nowhere, ignoring how you jumped out of your own skin, “Good morning. Are you doing a specific job at the moment?”

You gripped the arms of your swivel chair to ground yourself. Is this a test? “I was about to take a moment to make some coffee,” you said, because never let someone in a position of authority know that you were doing jackshit, “Is there something I can help you with, Aizawa-sensei?”

Frowning, he dipped his chin into his capture weapon, still tucked closely to his neck to shield him from the wind, and he shifted his weight to one leg, his fingers tapping in a ripple on the reception desk. “You don’t have to call me that anymore.”

“I’m gonna,” you said, “How can I help?”

Please don’t need anything. Please don’t need anythi—

“Permission has just cleared for me to assign you a long-term task.”

Shit, you thought, internally wincing at how he used the term task and not mission, as if you’d be plunged into the ice-cold water of a panic attack at the word. The kid gloves that everyone handled you with somehow both ingratiated and insulted you.

“You’ll be paid for it,” Aizawa continued, “and it’s low stakes interaction, not even face-to-face. It’s all online.” Aizawa clasped his hands on the desk and hunched over the top of it, the ends of his scarf trailing down onto your keyboard. “You’ll recall moving some boxes into room 310.”

“Of course.” Early in your first month back at U.A., you’d helped clean out and move some boxes into 310 in the same hall that housed Aizawa, Eri, and now you—you’d unofficially dubbed it as U.A.’s drawer to shove social rejects. “Is someone about to move in?”

“He’s been moved in for a while,” said Aizawa, pulling his capture weapon away from his neck, “Keep all of this quiet. You’re allowed to know because I’ve advocated for you, because I trust in you and in your ability to do this well.” Aizawa paused, the silence dragging on much longer than usual. His eyes glazed over, as if considering how to phrase his next proposal.

You waved your hand, prompting him to continue.

His eyes focused again. “The new person is a ward of the school, but All Might and I are his primary—caretakers isn’t quite the right term, and nor is supervisors, so perhaps it’s better to—”

“No, I get it,” you said, “This person is an adult, but they’re not quite independent. Go on.”

Aizawa paused, brow furrowed just slightly as he scrutinised you again, but he nodded slowly after a moment. “I’ll allow him to introduce himself to you. He doesn’t need me to set up expectations. What’s important for you to know, regarding your own participation, is that he’s very new to the hero scene and is receiving his hero training later in life than usual. He won’t be attending class but will be trained personally by select U.A. faculty, mostly All Might, Nezu, and me.”

“Is he officially a student?”

 “On paper.” Something strange passed across Aizawa’s face, but you couldn’t name it. “Where you come in is his socialisation. He’s spent most of his life in disciplinary isolation. Because of the adults raising him, his instincts trend towards distrust and animosity.”

So, Aizawa wanted you spend time with him until he was no longer bad with people, like spending time with feral cats at animal shelters until they’re ready to be adopted. “So, he’s distrustful. Hostile. Angry,” you said, scratching the side of your head, “Is he—do you think he’ll bring up bad stuff I’ve done to use it against me?”

“He doesn’t know who you are, aside from someone trusted by U.A. with hero experience,” said Aizawa, shaking his head, “and you can choose what information you give him.”

“Does he,” you said, sucking in through your teeth, “Does this guy know about how you’re going about this? I think—wouldn’t he be insulted if he knew about how you’re socialising him like an animal?”

Aizawa looked over his shoulder at the empty office, but he bent farther over the desk and spoke softly, anyway. “Recently, when I was training him at night, he expressed that he never knows what to do when someone wants to talk to him after mission, whether it’s successful or not. He froze entirely when a senior citizen thanked him last week, and that’s when we decided something tactile needed to be done. Since he’s grown used to me, you’re the solution.”

Okay. A volatile man, someone who couldn’t go to U.A. at the average age but for whom Aizawa, Nezu, and All Might were making an exception, even going so far as to personally take him out at night to practise hero work.

Hm. Fishy.

But if the good, good men who took care of you wanted you take care of another misplaced person, then you’re going to do it to the best of your ability.

“I hope I can live up to your expectations,” you said, making a note in your planner, “What am I doing?”

“I need you to learn how to play a video game,” said Aizawa, “and I need you to be absolute shit at it.”

***

For you to help some loser with socialisation, he would be teaching you how to play some janky, twenty-five-year-old MMORPG called Cipherstone—and not even the current, polished version of it; you had to sign up for an account on the version preserving the game exactly as it was in 2007. Nostalgia reasons, apparently.

You nudged Dango out aside to check your bedside clock. The discord call would start in five minutes, and you were making your Cipherstone account, completely unable to come up with a suitable username.

“Don’t connect it to your other online accounts or your actual identity,” Aizawa had said that morning.

Dango’s tiny prance across your stomach was not helping, and you couldn’t use Dango in your username, because if someone knew about your cat (and hopefully no one did, because cats were not allowed in the dorms), then a Dango username could be linked back to the real you. You plopped your head back on your pillow, knocking against the headboard. What’s something that couldn’t be traced back to you? Slumping, you let your head fall to the side and sulked.

The hentai book peeked out from underneath a jacket on your dirty clothes chair.

GinsengTea

That username is unavailable.

Well. You couldn’t use your birthdate as added numbers. You kept typing.

GinsengTea69

That username is unavailable.

You’re not about to try Lustful Ballsack. Maybe if you put aside your secretarial propensity for being correct for a moment.

GinzengTea

Username available!

Oh, thank God. You sorted out your password and started customising your character, though you couldn’t do much with the negative six billion pixels you were dealing with, and oh, is that the noise discord makes for a call? You plugged in your earbuds and clicked the answer button.

“Hello?” you asked into the microphone on your earbud cord, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture of a rotund, cartoon mouse. Username Tenkopeito. Looks like he ran into the same spelling trouble you did.

“Greetings and salutations,” he said, his tinny, rasping, just-got-out-of-bed, gruff-from-lack-of-use voice striking you with about fifty psychic damage, “I am Aizawa-sensei’s pupil, here to teach you about the intricacies of Cipherstone. It will be my pleasure—”

“Cut that shit out,” you said, narrowing your eyes at his profile picture: actually, that mouse was so round because it had just swallowed an enormous piece of konpeito whole, with the little star spikes jutting out underneath its fur. “No one talks like that. You sound fake as fuck.”

“I see,” he said after a beat, tone deflating to sound resigned (and though he’d relaxed, it somehow sounded as if talking this way took more effort, like it physically strained his vocal cords). “Am I not supposed to be nice?”

“You weren’t exactly being nice. You were using a customer service voice—which is being polite, not nice. Not even kind. Politeness is usually some sort of put-on affectation of niceness, forced for the situation. I understand if that’s what you think you need to do when you talk to people as a hero, but in hero work, since the stakes are high, you need to be genuine, or at least sound like you are.” Dango crawled across your stomach again, but you lifted her off before she could settle into a loaf on your keyboard. “In the field, it’s often hard to be kind because of how involved you get as a hero; being kind takes effort and drains you emotionally. Kindness implies there’s some sort of reciprocity, some sort of ongoing relationship. You can choose to be kind if you want, but it may wear on you in the long run. What will probably be healthiest for you, on your side, is if you aim to be nice, meaning being honest in a gentle way, framing situations positively but realistically for listeners. The public doesn’t want to be lied to and told everything’s fine, but telling them the harshness of reality doesn’t go over well. Kills morale.”

“Holy shit.” He was scratching something close to his microphone—it must be a fairly good mic, since you could deduce short fingernails against a dry surface. “That’s…a lot.”

“It is. But you can do it. All it takes is practise, and that’s what I’m here for,” you said, moving Dango from your keyboard again, “And I didn’t mean to overwhelm you with all of that; it just came out—I, uh, I happen to know a lot about the way heroes present themselves.” Swallowing thickly, you ran your tongue over your lower lip. “Why don’t we begin with what you were saying before? But in the actual way you talk, please. You need to be comfortable in your own voice.”

His mic picked up the distant noise of slurping through a straw, against what sounded like the bottom of a metal cup, which clinked when he set it back down. “Have you played Cipherstone before?”

“Total newcomer. Though I’ve seen some screenshots in memes.”

“Cool,” he said in a way that was clear it was not cool, “I can’t add you to my in-game friends list until you get off Tutorial Island. Share your screen with me until then.”

All right. You can be bad at this. You can be so bad at this. “What’s a screen?” Not that bad, idiot! “I mean,” you said, fumbling, “How do I share my screen with you?”

The scratching grew louder. “Bottom left. Screen button. Right click. Share option.”

“Ah.” You should probably lure him into thinking you’re competent while there was a literal tutorial onscreen so that he would be more frustrated with you later. “Gotcha.”

For a few seconds after your avatar popped onscreen for the first time, nothing came through but the 8-bit tutorial music. “Is that what you look like in real life?” he finally asked.

“No,” you said, not exactly lying. The character had her hair down in her face (which you wouldn’t normally do when you were on patrol, since it could get in the way of physical hero work), and, hoping to endear yourself to this weirdo, you’d chosen the sluttiest shirt: while none of the horrible pixelated options showed any boob whatsoever, the poor rendering still managed to convey that the top was off-shoulder. Again, not great for hero work. “In real life, I’ve much, much more panache.”

Another silence, during which you assumed he was looking up the word. “So, you click on the screen to go where you want to walk, on either the overall game interface or in the mini-map in the corner. Your destination will show up—”

“Wait, what should I call you, screwboy?”

“—as a red flag,” he said, frown audible, his rasping voice screeching to a stop the way brakes are slowly applied to the wheels of a train. “Not screwboy.”

“I’m not calling you by your handle. Not only is it cringe, but you won’t have to answer to it anywhere else in your life. If you don’t want to give me your name, that’s fine. I could call you by your hero name, if you like; it’d help you get used to answering to it. But no, I’m not calling you your username,” you said, shoulders slacking once Dango finally settled in a ball at your hip, “Especially since you couldn’t even get the correct spelling of Ten Konpeito.”

“It’s—it’s not supposed to say that,” he said, sputtering with a groan coming in at the end, “It’s a play on my name, and including the n makes it harder to say aloud. I think these things through; I have to be aware of my public image and branding now; that’s the whole point of this stupid—my name is Tenko, you asshole.”

“Oh, you’re gonna call civilians asshole?” You clicked your tongue. “Bad. Bad and evil. Speaking from experience, people don’t like that.”

“Just fu—just click on the map.”

“Fine. But you can’t fool me with your medieval, point-and-click game,” you said, clicking to pick up a fishing net, “Incidentally, the oldest known fishing net is the net of Antrea, crafted of willow and dating back to 8300 B.C.”

Tenko paused. “What would be the socially expected response to that?”

Your avatar fished for shrimps. “Oh, usually people yell at me. Get mad for bringing up total non sequiturs. My friend Bakugou is fond of telling me that I’m a collection of those bottle caps with facts printed on the inside.”

“Would…would you like me to get angry? Am I supposed to? I was under the impression I was supposed to curb my anger. To be nice.”

Your inventory filled with shrimps.

“You only need one shrimp,” said Tenko.

“You’ll thank me when we have food later,” you said, continuing to fish for shrimps.

“It’s the tutorial,” he said, frown creeping into his voice, “You won’t keep any resources from it. You should go chop the tree down to light a fire.”

“Well, hell. I want my shrimps.” You clicked away from the fishing spot and onto a tree. “Nothing’s happening.”

Tenko cleared his throat. “You need to talk to the woodcutting tutor first. She’ll give you an axe.”

“I thought this game had magic,” you said, guiding Dango’s head away from blocking the screen, “Can’t I just get logs with magic?”

“No, it’s—you must want me to get angry. As a test.” Scratching. “Magic comes later. Not for getting logs.”

You interpreted that as a sign to make the rest of the tutorial go smoothly. You followed the instructions for a few silent minutes, proving to him that you could read, and when you reached the end of the tutorial, a wizard teleported you to the crossroads of a town centre.

“Ah,” you said, genuinely surprised as other players’ avatars, decked out in what must be high-level gear, dashed past, “I don’t know where I am.”

“You can turn your screen-sharing off now.” Tenko typed on what sounded like a mechanical keyboard. “I’m over here. I’ve got—by the fountain—white hair, all black clothes. I’m not—there you are.”

Dozens of other players were running past the two of you, the only bare, new players in the area. Tenko’s pixelated avatar waved at you. Cheeky bitch. He’s so poorly animated and so very 2007 that it gave no indication what he could look like in real life. But he’s chosen to have a black t-shirt as his default, so he has to be a slut.

You resisted the urge to ask to feel his pixelated bicep. “You don’t have any equipment. I thought you’ve played Cipherstone before?”

“My main account is max-ed out. I started a new account to grow at the same rate as you. Before anything else, notice where we are,” said Tenko, “We’re in the centre of the city of Renfield. Get familiar with it. Think of it as home. It’s where you’ll always come back to when you get lost.”

It’s a barely animated town centre, with a short path up the stairs to a castle door and a few market stalls split between fountains.

“I have no idea what that means, Tenko.”

“It means that—that,” Tenko said, and stopped.

You couldn’t stop grinning, biting at your lower lip to keep from laughing—he’d let out a flustered huff, sounding a little strangled, because you’d said his name for the first time—and, judging by how long this delicious silence was dragging on, Tenko was probably his given name, not the family name. Beautiful, really, that a guy his age (however old he was, but he’s at least the same as you, since he couldn’t attend U.A. at the usual time) could get this nervous over a woman calling him by his name.

Tenko recovered in a way that showed he didn’t: “It means that you are always able to cast one spell, regardless of magic level,” he said in a rush, “It is a homing spell that teleports you back to this spot, so even if you get lost, you can always get back to Renfield. You can teleport other ways, too, but that’s for another time, and I need a cup of coffee.” He inhaled sharply.

It's only the first day, so you should go easy on him. Let his moment of awkwardness go.

However, Aizawa gave you a mission.

Excuse you, a task.

“Do you plan on getting flustered every time a civilian calls you by name?” you asked, petting between Dango’s ears, “Or are you planning on avoiding as much publicity as possible by being an underground hero like Aizawa?”

“I don’t—they’re not going to—it’s different with you. I can already tell,” said Tenko (you froze, fingers curled into Dango’s fur), “because I’m going to have some sort of working relationship with you. I assume you’re here to stay.”

Putting it that way made your heartbeat throb around your ears. You decided you could ask directly. “Tenko’s your first name, then?”

“Yeah.” He must have covered his hand with his mouth, muffling his voice at first. “But people usually—people have been calling me something else.”

“Then I can call you something else, if you like,” you said, getting back to petting Dango behind her ears and resolving to treat him with the same tenderness—he must need it, since no one in his life knows him well enough to call him by his given name.

“No, I think you should,” he said a bit too quickly, “Call me that. Tenko. I’m tired of that other stuff. Click on something to keep from logging out, by the way. There’s a timer.” Mechanical typing noises. “No, Aizawa-sensei wants me to be better. Of all things, I need to learn to respond to my real name.”

You squinted at your screen, as if the methodical rise and fall of his avatar’s chest could betray how he was feeling. Something had to have happened to this guy to make him feel this way about such a basic part of his identity, to make other people avoid his real name so universally. Aizawa couldn’t’ve have assigned you this task just to socialise him; something else was unfolding here. How did you enter the equation? If you’re supposed to guide someone who’s also lost their direction in life, you’re a hell of a bad candidate.

But what if you fuck up Aizawa’s plan, whatever it was?

Your recent history is riddled with things going downhill. What if you somehow screwed over Tenko? You’d be dragging someone else down with you, down to…the beginning again, a humiliating re-start, back at your fucking school, when the rest of your friends were out living the dream you’d all crafted together, the dream that apparently could go on without you in it.

Well. Enough of that. Distract yourself. Distract Tenko, too. “Got it. I want a hat.”

“What?”

“I want a hat,” you said, clicking the space around the fountain for your avatar to walk, “My head is cold. How do we get a hat? Hats. You should get one, too.”

“Hats. Very well,” said Tenko, clicking to face you across the shitty fountain, “Do you want one that’s purely decorative or one that has some sort of stats? Decorative ones we can get within a minute, with good RNG, by killing goblins across the bridge. There’s a low chance we could get a low-tier wizard’s hat doing that, too.”

“Then it will be a pleasure killing goblins with you, Tenko.”

“Mm,” he said at the back of his throat, “First, we’ll need to obtain some sort of weapons, since bare-handed punching them will take forever. We could either talk to the melee tutor to get a temporary sword or start wi—actually, we should talk to the melee tutor. Melee will probably be the easiest fighting style for you right now, and it’ll be the simplest, since you won’t have to worry about running out of ammunition or runes.”

“Sure,” you said, leaning back in bed, “Do we go starboard or port?”

“You can just call them east and west, y’know. And we go north.”

To be obstinate, you clicked the opposite direction that Tenkopeito was going, and the moment you ran offscreen, Tenko spoke in a low, grumbling voice into his microphone. “No, don’t run away from me. Come back here.”

The rumble in his voice shot warmth straight to your lower stomach, the nature of the encounter between the two of you changing in a second. Your avatar kept running to her destination, your hand frozen and hovering above the tracking pad. You blinked, your throat drying. Snapping back into it, you ran back to Tenko, who seemed unaware of what he just did to you—and he almost negated your arousal in the way he kept talking about sword upgrades and something called RNG.

Uh.

“—now, it’ll take about ten minutes, but it’ll seem like two hours of hard labour. Follow me across the bridge. Follow—there’s a follow mechanic, if you’ll right-click on me.”

Oh, you’ll right-click him, all right. You needed to know more about Tenko—why you’ve been paired off, what Aizawa’s planning for him, what—a tinge of shame soured at the back of your tongue, because what currently gripped you were minutiae: more about him, what he looks like, what he likes, what he does for fun, if you’re…the sort of person he’d get along with in real life, if you hadn’t been forced together.

God, get over yourself. You spend two months away from men your age, and now, you’re thirsting over someone you don’t even know because he said one hot thing. You needed to be socialised—no, stop. This isn’t about you. Stop thinking about what his hands would feel like on you, what he’d sound like grunting into your ear as he ground against you—

“You’ve been quiet for a minute,” said Tenko, slashing the first goblin, “Are you all right?”

A very heroic question when you haven’t been thinking too heroically. The thought of his voice muttering against your neck still grasped you tightly. “I’m having—technical difficulties.”

***

Poking your head outside of your dorm/apartment door, you scanned the hallway for witnesses. You gripped the handle of Dango’s carrier, still hidden behind the door inside your dorm, and you nodded back at her when she meowed at you.

“I know, baby,” you said, listening for footsteps, “We’ll be outside soon enough. Gotta check for people, though.”

Okay, nothing coming. You shifted Dango’s carrier out of your dorm and pulled out your key, sticking it in the lock at the same time as a door opened down the hall.

Too fast—you had to prod her carrier back inside, your foot stuck in the crack between wall and door, just as—as Midoriya strode down the hall. Keys jangling. Civilian clothes (a Froppy hoodie, in fact).

“Oh, hello!” Midoriya only seemed to notice you once you were struggling to close the door despite the carrier being the way, and hopefully you thrust it fully inside swiftly enough for him not to catch the flash of burgundy. He trotted up to you, hands in the pockets of his worn cargo pants. “I didn’t think you’d be around. Do you not have work today?”

Dango meowed mournfully through the door, and you stepped in front of it. “It’s my lunch break. I’m going for a walk.”

Midoriya nodded, and he glanced over his shoulder back to the room he’d left. “Gotcha, gotcha. Good weather for it, especially after that storm earlier this week.” easy smile stretched across his face as he faced you again, but his gaze weighed down on you, as if the number one hero’s attention magnified your failures in comparison to his rise to the top—and the fact that he didn’t mean to pressure you only exacerbated the feeling.

“Uh,” you said, stuffing your keys in your backpack and setting it on the ground, as if you’re not waiting to go back inside, “May I ask what you’re doing here? Don’t you have better—aren’t you busy?”

Chuckling, Midoriya scratched the back of his neck (and oh, in that laughter, he was hiding something). “I make time. I’m just visiting,” he said, jerking his head back towards the end of the hall, “A friend. I want to take care to see him regularly. I didn’t know you lived on the same hall.”

“If you can call it living,” you said, and for some reason, Midoriya frowned, took a step closer to you, and said your name under his breath, eyes fucking wide and too damn concerned for your comfort. Fuck, you only meant to make a self-depredating joke, not make the situation serious. 

“You—you know that you can reach out to us. I mean that. If you’re scared you’re gonna burden any of us—”

You’d squatted down to go through your bag, just to have something to do, to have an excuse to not look him in the eyes. If you were going to cry—which you were not!—then the number one hero’s not going to get to witness it.

“—then reach out to me, at least. I’ve got time, or else I can make it.” Midoriya was kneeling next to you, and you kept your eyes on the inside of your backpack. “If it makes you feel less like you’re bothering any of us, I could check in with you when I come see my friend. I’d already be on campus. I wouldn’t be going out of my way.” He sighed to fill the space when you didn’t answer. “What are you looking for?”

“I can’t find my planner,” you invented, and, acting like you were upset, you zipped your backpack again. “I think I need to go back inside to locate it.”

He shifted his jaw, and he glanced down at your bag and back at you. “Come with me to the vending machines, at least?”

The new symbol of peace, asking to spend time with you. You didn’t deserve it, so you shook your head. “I don’t have much time left in my break. I think I’d better let you go.”

Shifting his jaw, Midoriya tilted his head at you, his eyes glinting. “All right,” he said slowly, “You know yourself better than anyone else. Do what you need to. Rest up.” He started walking backwards towards the stairs. “And I want to see you more—we all do. I’ll see you the next time I come around. Maybe the three of us could hang out?”

“Sure,” you said, shoving your key in the lock to let a thrashing Dango out of her misery.

***

“The church. It’s the one with the altar icon in the minimap.”

You clicked enough so that your avatar would backtrack. “How am I supposed to know that’s the church? Is that icon supposed to be an altar? It looks nothing like an altar. It looks more like a steaming cup of tea.”

“That’s fair,” said Tenko into his headset, “but this is the easiest quest in the game. How are you having this much trouble with it?”

“Oh, stop that,” you said, reaching his character in front of the priest, “It’s intuitive to you because you’ve been playing this for years. Do we kill this guy?”

“What? No. He’s going to give us each the key to a dungeon underneath the church.”

“How can he give us both a key if there’s only one?” You clicked through the dialogue with the priest, and a key appeared in your inventory. “Also, how accurate is this dungeon? Because if this is a broadly medieval game, then the dungeons will be closer to underground bathrooms rather than, like, creepy and wet with shackles and bones. That was popularised by Walter Scott’s Ivanhoe.”

“How the hell do you know that,” Tenko asked flatly, “Ne—never mind. It doesn’t matter. Follow me to the trapdoor outside.”

You did, and it was locked. “Are we allowed to do this?” you asked, clicking on the key and then the lock, “Will we get arrested for trespassing?”

“Wha—no. No, we’re supposed to in order to progress the quest. In fact, our characters do a frankly criminal amount of breaking and entering throughout the game and never get checked for it. Hey, don’t go down there without me.”

Your character had only just gone down the trapdoor, prompting a blackout loading screen, but you popped back up to the surface before you could get a good look around. Your character stood next to Tenko’s, still next to the trapdoor. “What’s the holdup? I thought the only step was to use the key on the door. Did I skip something?”

“No, I—huh,” said Tenko, cutting himself off with a tinge of frustration creeping into his voice, “I lost the key.”

Raising a brow, you tilted your head. “What? How’d you lose it?”

“I don’t know. It was in my inventory one minute, and now it’s not. I didn’t touch it.” His mic picked up light scratching. “You’re not supposed to be able to lose the key, but I guess I can go back to the priest to get another. You wait—”

“Hold up,” you said, brow furrowed, “I have it. It’s in my inventory.”

“The hell? Are you sure it’s not just your own key?”

“Positive. I have two of them now. Same key, right next to each other. Want me to share my screen?”

“No, I—I believe you.” Tenko took a moment. “I’m not familiar with this sort of glitch, where an item from one player’s inventory randomly transfers to another’s. This doesn’t even happen, in my experience, but maybe it’s because this is one of the earliest quests coded into the game. It’s twenty-five-year-old code at this point, and it might have glitched because we’re both trying to perform the same quest actions on the same game tick.”

“Sure,” you said, “So, what do I do? Do I drop the key for you to pick up, or?”

“It disappears if you drop it. Trade me. Right-click, trade option.”

Once the key was traded, the two of you went down the trapdoor and wove your way back into the underground headquarters of a low-level cult, vacant for the moment but with evidence of rituals on the walls and floors, particularly in front of their bloodstained altar.

“Okay, we’re in their headquarters,” you said, making your character walk up the aisle, “What now? Priest guy didn’t give us any instructions.”

His avatar followed you and sat on the only programmed-to-be-sittable seat in the pew, his black cape (that he stole from a highwayman’s corpse) folding under his legs. “Actually, he did. You just clicked through his dialogue.”

“Because you’re here to tell me what to do, Quest Man.”

“Click on the—” Tenko heaved an enormous sigh, microphone sparking. “You figure it out. What’s clickable in this room? What has examine text?”

You hovered your mouse over most of the room, and nothing popped up with the examine option, except for something on the altar. “It’s this weird-looking, severed hand, isn’t it? This thing standing up on a slice of wrist by itself?” Your character walked nearer to it, fingers splayed widely enough to hold an in-game apple. “Weirdest ring-holder I’ve ever seen.”

When Tenko didn’t say anything, you glanced towards his character, but he was still sitting on the pew.

“Is this whole quest a pun? Because it’s one of the easiest quests, so they’re giving us a lot of guidance, so it’s like they’re holding our hands to get it through?”

That broke his silence: he scoffed into the mic. “I doubt it,” he said, “You need to grab the hand for the quest to keep going.”

“Fine,” you said, clicking the hand, and the instant your avatar touched it, a zombie spawned from the altar and began to attack you. “Dude! Did you know that thing was gonna jump me?” you asked, clicking away a few spaces but turning around to stab at it with your stupid bronze dagger, “And you just sat there? You could’ve warned me.”

“I did, and the priest did, and the duke who gave us this quest did. That’s why we went and baked all those pies in your inventory, yeah? For you to eat during this fight?”

Your character kept missing hits. “Yeah, but—like! I didn’t know the fight would be now.”

“Hey, relax.” Tenko’s voice sounded muffled, like his mouth was smushed as his fist dug into his cheek. “It’s only a level 12, and you’re level 9. Not too big of a difference. With your armour and weapon, you out-level it.”

The miss sound effect spoke for itself.

“You’ll kill it eventually. You won’t always hit zeroes, so it’ll pass.”

Though your character dealt her first damage, you frowned. “That’s…that’s actually really good advice, Tenko. The stuff you just said would work well if you were trying to calm someone down—reminding people of reality and emphasising perseverance over luck or natural talent are some of the better ways to encourage people.”

“Is that so,” he asked flatly, trying to put off a yawn and failing, “I haven’t—I wasn’t thinking about hero work. Just thinking about the game.”

“Well, it was nice,” you said, “and it seemed like it came naturally. Mind if I ask if something caused it?”

He yawned again, but he must have leant away from the mic so that you wouldn’t hear anything besides the initial inhale. “Nothing special happened today, but I’m too tired to get irritated. Therapy took a lot out of me today.”

Therapy. Therapy. Okay, so he’s got an official diagnosis somewhere. The word today implies that it’s a regular thing, and for some reason, this session was more intense. Intense emotionally? Physically? What kind of therapy? Well, they offered cognitive behavioural therapy on campus, but considering his non-traditional student status, his might be outsourced. Plus, if you, a former hero but technically a civilian, are being implemented into his care plan without being informed directly—

“You usually don’t go this long without saying some inane non sequitur,” said Tenko, that same, strange scratching picking up on the mic, “Snap out of it. You’re gonna get killed by the easiest quest boss in the game.”

Making an undignified noise, you shook yourself and spam-clicked on a cherry pie for your character to eat until she was healed completely, and then you clicked on the zombie to attack again.

“Why’d you pause when I said therapy? Surprised I’d go? Think that sort of thing is below me?”

“Of course not,” you said, trying to seem like you were focused on the fight so that he wouldn’t get nervous about sharing personal information, “Therapy good. Therapy great. Everyone needs to go to therapy.” Since he appeared to be taking this casually, you could probably ask after the type without it seeming too intrusive. “What kind? CBT? That’s what—”

“You think U.A. would arrange for me to get my cock and balls tortured? That wouldn’t qualify as therapy for me, certainly, and there’s no way that U.A. would pay for—”

“Not fucking cock-and-ball torture, you muppet; cognitive behavioural therapy. The sitting-down-with-therapist-to-talk-about-your-trauma-and-restructuring-the-way-you-think-through-practise type. You fuckin’ pervert,” you said, grinning at his avatar onscreen.

“Good to know. I didn’t know the name for it.”

“It’s good that you made this mistake with me instead of with Aizawa-sensei.”

“He’s probably more inclined towards bondage. Congratulations on killing your first boss,” said Tenko, and you blinked in surprise at your character: you’d defeated the zombie while staring at him. It fell to the ground, dropping bones and some sort of arrows.

“Take those. Check to see if they’re iron or steel. All right, equip them in your ammo slot for now so that they don’t take up an inventory space.”

You did so. “Why didn’t it attack me with the arrows if it were holding them?”

“There’s no logic to it besides that arrows are on its drop table. It’s coded to attack by punching you in the face, which doesn’t involve arrows.”

“Sure. Now, let’s get out of the cult basement; I wanna bake more pies until we can make apple ones. Did you know that the first record of fruit pies was around 1600? That means these fruit pies are anachronistic, since this game pitches itself as medieval.”

“Is that…” The hesitance had you beaming, daring him to actually ask it. “Is that not medieval?”

“Tenko, get your head out of your ass. For reference, 1600 is arguably the year the Azuchi-Momoyama period ended and the Edo period began. The game frames itself as medieval European, and 1600 is hard Renaissance-slash-Early-Modern. That’s Shakespeare times, screwboy.”

Only silence on your headphones. Character still on the pew. You made your character walk over to his to perform the curtsy emote, and in real life, you frowned. “Did I go too far there? Bit too annoying? I’m really sorry if I’m bothering you with this sort of thing; my friends say that I—”

“Nothing’s wrong. I needed a moment,” came Tenko’s voice, quiet and steady, “I could hear you smiling, and it was—it was good.”

Inhaling sharply, you pressed a fist to your mouth. Great. Fucking fabulous. Goddammit, you hadn’t aimed for it to go this way, but were you now the one getting flustered at something as simple as—

“Do most people consider a long pause in conversation rude? Did I fuck up with that?”

“No! No, of course not,” you were saying, trying to recover but still startled at how he was able to flip the vibe of your conversations in so few words, words that seemed so casual to him but grabbed you by the throat/cunt, “Especially since you followed-up with a check-in of how it might be strange; a lot of times, people will be comforted by checking to see if something’s okay with them personally…”

Frowning, you trailed off when another avatar entered the cult’s sanctuary and strode up the aisle. You hovered over the new guy’s stupid frog mask to see his username was Venomothman.

“Fucking great,” grumbled Tenko, “Here comes someone else to break our immersion. Ignore him. I’ll go ahead and fight the zombie so that we can get out of here.”

“The zombie’s dead. You don’t have to fight him,” you said, as Venomothman sat directly on top of Tenkopeito, with both avatars glitching as they took up the same space on the pew.

Tenko made some sort of noise in the back of his throat. “No, I have to kill it, too. It’s like each of us is the only one doing the quest, so in your version, the evil has been defeated, but in my version—it’s this thing called an instance—”

Venomothman: wow a couple questing together

Venomothman: bet ur one guy on two accounts

Venomothman: roleplaying that he can get a gf

The new guy’s in-text chat appeared in yellow font above his avatar’s frog-faced head, and somehow, the boggly, green eyes made his words more irritating.

Venomothman: leave the basement sometimes ya incel

“Some people are assholes recreationally,” said Tenko, making his avatar stand to go to the altar as the clatter of mechanical typing came through the mic, “Let me get rid of this fucking scumba—wait.”

 Venomothman: ur doing too much work to stare at pixelated ass

“Would it be correct for a hero to insult someone online?”

You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see it. “Eh. You’re not on duty, and you’re not under any persona connected with your public branding. I would say go for it, but since you’re trying to be better with people, you may want to practise.”

Venomothman: somehow this is even more pathetic than never knowing the touch of a woman at all

“Then I’ll shut him down. The shit-talking isn’t bothering me so much as his breaking our immersion in the game,” said Tenko, grabbing the hand on the altar to start his instance of the fight, “I’m trying to cultivate a particular experience for you, and he’s a fucker who won’t stop yapping. Give me a second.”

Venomothman: is this what does it for you??

Venomothman: why no response

Venomothman: hard to type with one hand, isn’t it, ******* shithead

You laughed through your nose. “Cipherstone censors the word fuck?”

“It censors fuck; it censors cunt,” said Tenko, avatar casting a weak air spell at the zombie, slowly, slowly draining its health, “Everything else is fair game.”

“Will it censor variations of cunt? Like, if I typed in cuntbag? Or—actually, let’s find that out later,” you said, tapping the buttons on your earbud cord to turn up the volume, “Let’s practise navigating difficult social interactions. What’s our goal here in this conversation? Is it to continue to engage?”

“No.” His spell missed, and the zombie landed a hit on his character, prompting him to eat half of a pie. “It’s to close the interaction. Therefore, I need to say something concise that invites no response, right? I’m assuming that a simple fuck off is unacceptable.”

“You’re getting better at this, y’know?”

“Is that condescension I detect?”

“Only a little.” You slumped back against your headboard and reached for the bottle of water on your bedside table. “Actually—no. No condescension. Genuinely, Tenko, you’re picking up on this stuff easily, and it’s impressive. You’ll be able to walk little old ladies across the street with style and flair in no time.” 

“Hilarious,” he said, voice restrained and tight at the mention of his name (too easy—he gives himself away aurally so freely; who knows what you could read off of him when you had a visual?), “I’m sure no one wants me touching them. Can I—hm.” He sounded like he was pressing his fist against his face somehow. “Why you keep bothering to compliment me? Most people bitch down to me like I’ve spat my own cum in their coffee.”

“Wha—how about because you deserve to be complimented? Listen,” you said, electing to brush over his vivid simile, “Silent admiration rots. By keeping in appreciation or gratitude, you’re not doing anyone any good. Kind regards are meant to be shared. Like, now, if I held back any positive thoughts concerning your growth, then you might not feel encouraged to keep going.”

“Like I’m gonna go around fucking complimenting ev—”

“I’m not saying you have to,” you said, “but consider trying it more often. See if anything turns out better. And be sure to be sincere about it—obviously.”

“This is bullshit.”

“Just consider it. So. What has he told us about himself based on how he’s insulted you?”

“He’s so low-level that it looks like he just created his account. His stats are even lower than ours,” said Tenko, speaking more quickly now that it was a subject he was more comfortable with, unequipping his wand to punch the zombie instead, “But he’s gone out of his way to get the frog mask.”

“His words, Tenko,” you said, unscrewing the cap and doing your fucking darndest to pinch your mouth from smiling at his slight hitch when you said his name, “I’m trying to get you to notice on whom he looks down and what that means for his personal social status.”

“Right,” he said a bit too quickly, a bit of a break in his voice on the word, “He’s debasing me for—oh, you’re brilliant. How the hell do you notice these things? He’s using basement dweller as insult, meaning he considers himself above that. Leave it to me.”

You muted yourself briefly to glug down water; you didn’t know how sensitive the mic was on your earbuds, but considering that you could catch onto Tenko’s occasional rustling of what sounded like plastic bags on his side or typing on his mechanical keyboard, as he was right now, you would prefer not to be emitting the same.

Tenkopeito: Your mom wishes you would come out of your room to talk with the rest of the family more often

You spluttered into your water bottle as the yellow text appeared above his head, and you unmuted yourself. “That is not what I meant for you to—”

“Was I being mean?” The mic caught the creak of Tenko’s chair as he leant back in it, and you could picture him defensive and pouting as he crossed his arms (and it struck you that you couldn’t imagine his face. Grimacing, you bit the inside of your cheek). “I wasn’t being rude. I could be so much crueller, but I thought this would be more of a devastating blow. Living on the same floor as your family isn’t the same as living in the basement, so I’m acknowledging his level of social power while still demeaning—”

Venomothman: i mean you right

Venomothman: lmao how tf did you know it was me

“I think we should log out,” you said, wiping the water off of your chin with the back of your hand and setting the bottle back on the bedside table.

Over Tenko’s microphone, you heard the shrill pitch of a custom ringtone and a startled but violent shuffle at the noise. “Hold on. I’m getting a call,” he said, voice coming through at a distance, as if he’d knocked his mic aside.

“Oh? Who is it?”

It took him a minute, but Tenko eventually replied, “A friend.”

That must be a damn good microphone, because you could still pick up on Tenko’s side of the conversation a few feet away. “Yes, hello?” he asked, a bit more brusquely than you’d heard him before.

“Oh. I didn’t,” he was saying, “How was I supposed to know that you’d—yes, that’s her. The one working with Aizawa-sensei.”

Very nice, you were thinking, as you unlocked your own phone to check your messages. Very good for him to have friends. Not that you would’ve pegged him as the absolute loner type, because he proved to be adaptable and quick on his feet, but since Aizawa’d recruited you for interpersonal help, you’d considered that he may not have friends. So, good on him for having at least one friend, it seemed, who cared enough to create an account on some stupid video game solely to annoy him.

“—cool of you to make an account to hang out with me. Stop fucking laughing; I am trying to be kind to you, shitstain. Okay. I don’t know. I haven’t been in contact with him in the past two days. I’ve been busy. Let me check.” Tenko leant back towards the mic to address you. “Do we have a schedule for the rest of the week? For instance, are we doing this again on Thursday?”

“I thought we were,” you said, scanning your room for your planner so that you could check your calendar, “Did something come up?”

“It’s not imperative that I go,” Tenko was saying into your ear, while you picked up your laptop to walk over to your U.A.-issued desk, “but another friend who’s been out of town will finally be back then. We might hang out.”

“Psh, go with your friends,” you said, delighted that he had more than one (fighting envy that it was so easy for them to meet up), “We can do this another time.”

“Understood,” Tenko said and backed away from the mic.

Venomothman: so have you sucked his dick yet

Tenko’s incensed shout of “Touya!” had you turning down the volume.

Venomothman: not to be the world’s worst wingman, but my dude is packing. and goes commando all the time.

Venomothman: and i would know. “i” sometimes “did” our “laundry”

You: what’s with all those quotation marks

Venomothman: and do you know the last time it was sucked? never

(Fucking hell. This Touya was walking you back into forbidden territory: the sexualisation of Tenko. After that first session, when you’d been turned on by his confident, rumbling voice as he’d given you an order, you’d felt guilty for sexualising him for the rest of the night. It was as if instead of friend-zoning him, you’d sex-zoned him, only able to see him as a sexual person/object. For the sake of your mission task, that felt unfair.

Or maybe you weren’t even sexualising him. Maybe your brain was appropriately interpreting what he’d done as sexual.

Whatever. Something in your gut was begging you not to see Tenko only through romantic or sexual lenses right now, and you couldn’t explain why.

And talking about Tenko’s apparently massive dick was not helping.)

Tenkopeito: Touya if you don’t ******* shut up I am going to tear off your other arm

Venomothman: no need, boss man

You heard Tenko sigh and say into his phone, sounding exhausted, “I’m not your boss anymore, Touya.”

Venomothman: no need, douchebag

***

Draped over the side of your bed, you dangled a shoelace in front of the gap in an attempt to coax Dango out from underneath. “Dango, sweetie,” you said, whipping the shoelace to the side, “Come out here so that I can look you in the eyes. Where is my planner, you whore?”

At a firm knock on your door, you shot up, dropping the lace. “Never mind,” you said, sliding off the bed, “Stay hidden.”

You opened your door on Aizawa, bare arm raised in mid-knock, wisps of hair plastered to his forehead by dried sweat, and a sweatshirt tied around his waist. He took two seconds to look over you before saying, “Get dressed. Civilian clothes. You have three minutes.”

Throwing on yesterday’s outfit, you rushed to follow Aizawa out of the dorm and off campus, nearly stepping on his heels while he wove through night pedestrians, pulling on his own sweatshirt to minimise skin contact once the crowd thickened.

You flipped up your coat collar to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Is this a test?”

Aizawa combed his fingers back through his hair, gaze straight ahead. “Not for you.”

“Right.” You stepped more lightly, naturally falling back into patrol patterns: noting exits (narrow alleyways favouring the left side, underground into the subway station), checking vantage points (upper-storey windows in the resident buildings, non-industrial rooftops), honing in on light sources (yellow- and LED-tinted streetlamps, ambience from open businesses) and physical presence (close enough to brush shoulders with passerby [putting you on edge, because the slightest touch could be pivotal]). You had to consciously unclench your jaw, body flooded with stress it hadn’t felt in months. Swiping at the inner corner of your eye, you asked, “Does it have anything to do with the guy in the black hoodie and face mask following us?”

Aizawa laughed through his nose, once. “All right, then. What’s that ice cream place you and Shinsou went to all the time? Take us there.”

Bewildered, you changed directions to head towards Nekozawa’s, with Aizawa placing a hand on your shoulder to slow your pace, and by the time you pushed open Nekozawa’s glass door to the glowing, pink parlour, you were prepared to hold it open for your follower in the face mask. You watched his broad back as he ordered some ungodly, radioactive-blue ice cream with gummy bears before retreating to a table outside despite the dropping temperature, and Aizawa gestured you forward so that he could pay for the three of you.

Holding your ice cream, you hesitated at the door, swaying underneath the seasonal cat decorations dangling from the ceiling.

“Go on,” said Aizawa, retrieving the U.A. card from his wallet, “I’ve got to make a phone call, so don’t wait up. Don’t be too harsh on him; we’re here because he did a good job in the field today. Tailing you was extra practise.”

Nodding, you nudged open the door, bracing yourself at the cold, night air, and let it drift shut behind you as you approached the table, the farthest one from the pink lights.

Hood pulled up, Tenko bent over his blue monstrosity, face mask hanging by a loop over his left ear. Scuffing your boots on the concrete to announce your presence, you sat across from him, setting your cup on the cast iron before swinging your leg over the bench. You managed a cursory glance over what appeared to be a sketchbook before he closed it, and once he’d stowed it away, he swopped his spoon to his dominant hand to keep eating.

“You draw, Tenko?” To make him feel more comfortable, you kept your gaze towards Aizawa inside on the phone. “Do you think you’re any good?”

“Not yet. But I’m gonna be,” he said, clicking his pen and clenching it in his left hand, “I’ve got all these fucking artist’s gloves, so I might as well put ‘em to use.”

“Very nice,” you said, nodding, closing your eyes as you dipped your spoon into your ice cream, “But as a reminder, you don’t have to be good at something to enjoy it. I love doing stuff I’m absolute shit at. It reminds me of medieval bestiaries. They didn’t know shit about animals, but, boy howdy, did they have fun illustrating them. Did you know a weasel used to be called a polecat?”

Tenko huffed, his face mask fluttering. “It really is you.”

“Of course it is,” you said, beaming, and for the first time, you looked at him.

Tension flooded your teacup of a body and overflowed into the saucer and onto the floor. Heightened by the cold, a vein on the back of your hand strained and pulsed visibly, and, jaw locking, you lunged over the tabletop to grab him by the shoulders, shaking him.

“What the hell is wrong with you‽” You climbed over the table, pushed his ice cream out of the way (he shot out a hand to save it from toppling off the table, and he ripped off his face mask to set it aside before it fell to the ground), and planted your foot on his thigh and your elbows on his chest, caging him in as you forced him flat on the bench. “Why the fuck are you using your real name in your fucking Cipherstone username, you fucking moron‽ People could fucking track you!”

The man who had been Shigaraki Tomura eyed your fists in his hoodie and then his cup of ice cream. “You didn’t have a problem with it before.”

“I—” This idiot! “I didn’t know it was you. There are a lot of Tenkos.”

“Then there’s my logic,” he said, hands dangling by his sides, making no attempt to touch you—you didn’t know if you appreciated it or not. “I thought you knew who I was.”

“No, I fucking—I would have given you advice that was more specific to you, over the spiel I was giving interns.” Releasing your grip on his hoodie, you sat back up and scooted over on the tabletop. Though you wanted to keep holding him, to hug him after all he’s been through, he probably wouldn’t want that. “I’m—sorry about tackling you. I, uh—fuck,” you said, and, grimacing, you slid his ice cream back to him and reached across for your own, pretending with everything you’ve got that it was perfectly normal that you were sitting on a table next to Shigaraki Tomura, who’s been teaching you to play a video game, who’s apparently living at the end of the hall, who’s decorated his door with Eri’s silver tinsel for Christmas, who’s banned from drinking caffeine, who could rest his fucking head on your thigh if he wanted. Normal. Yeah.

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” he said, fishing out a gummy bear like you hadn’t lunged at him, “Your reaction was reasonable.”

“It—it wasn’t, really,” you said, laughing nervously, “I wasn’t expecting you. I mean, no one knows what—what happened to you. Afterwards. It was really unclear.”

“It was that way on purpose,” said Tenko, “It was thought to be better to emphasise the total destruction of All for One instead of whatever happened to his leftovers.” He shifted a bear to his back molars to bite into the frozen gummy better. “Nezu-sensei decided it was better to keep it muddled for now.”

Muddled was a good way to put it. There’d been so much chaos at the end of the war that so much never was accounted for. You’d think that the location of Shigaraki’s body would be high on the list, but satisfaction was found simply in the splintered, spectacular remains of AFO. Shigaraki’s name wasn’t cleared, per se, but in the aftermath, Midoriya especially stressed that yes, Shigaraki committed atrocities, but he’d been abused, groomed, and literally bodily possessed by AFO to think that way. Didn’t excuse him, but wasn’t entirely his fault.

The locations of the other PLF members—well, the core of the League, really—were public, if not vague. Spinner was in the States at a rehab that specialised in heteromorph trauma; Toga was at a local women’s facility called Sakura Grove, and Dabi was living with his family—he must have been that Touya on the phone, holy shit.

So, here he was, sitting on the bench at the same ice cream parlour you visited with the same friends who fought him, hunched over in oversized, black clothes you suspected were Aizawa’s, broad shoulders and faded scars out of place in the pink lights, white hair pulled back in a blunt ponytail with his bangs flopping over his forehead, seemingly unbothered by the toe of your boot pressing against his denim-covered thigh.

God. He’s scratched at his neck so much that it looks like he’s been beheaded with a blunt axe.

Tenko’s eyes flickered up to you, their colour deepening to crimson in the tinted lights. “So. You’ve got questions.”

“Are you okay?”

Tenko swallowed with effort, scowling. “Don’t start with a hard one.”

“Right,” you said, throat drying, “Who knows you’re staying at U.A.?”

“Faculty and staff. My therapist. The police force. The ramen shop Aizawa-sensei and I go to. The intensive rehab I was at before. The top of the hero commission. Touya, Touya’s father, Spinner, Toga. Eri and Midoriya,” he said, tongue swiping over his lower lip, “You.”

Somehow both fewer and more than you’d figured. “What exactly…is the situation? Aizawa-sensei was vague.”

“Officially, I’m like Eri: a ward of U.A. My old rehab thought I was good enough to live off their campus, so I’m back here, where I can be watched by people capable enough to bring me down if I go crazy again,” he said, brow furrowed as he traced the side of his cup with his spoon, “I should resent that, but it’s not like I have anywhere else to go, especially somewhere as comfortable as this. This is fucking stupid to say aloud, but fucking—fuckin’ All Might is the closest thing I have to family now, along with Midoriya.”

“I’m not following.”

“My grandma was the holder of One for All before All Might had it.” He pointed at you with his spoon. “So you can make the connection from there. But it’s stupid; I’m stupid—” He was shaking his head and staring into his lap. “—because it’s like I have a brother in Midoriya and a goddamn father in All Might—and then Aizawa-sensei’s acting like a dad, too, to me and Eri, and Nezu-sensei? Nezu-sensei is so fucking cool,” said Tenko, dragging his hand down his face, “He’s got a driver’s license! I don’t even have one of those. And he can type fucking 210 words per minute with those little rat paws, and I’m still getting used to using all five fingers, fuck.”

Cute. You scraped the bottom of your cup. “Hey, I think you type well.”

“Yeah, well, that’s why it takes me so long to reply in the in-game chat function. Why I prefer communicating over voice call. Learning new habits, and shit.” Tenko stabbed his ice cream with his spoon. “Nezu-sensei has arranged for me to train as an aftermath-clean-up hero. I had been—” His fingers on one hand circled the thumb of the other. “—in discussion with him in rehab about what I could do, and we decided I could consistently help when there’s collapsed buildings after attacks; I could dust the wreckage so that we could find hostages or make it easier to clean up and rebuild, and Aizawa-sensei and All Might-sensei have been working with me to control what parts of what I touch gets dusted so that I could create pitfall traps for holding criminals. It’s…going. It’s going,” he said, curling his lips in his mouth to moisten them, and with narrowed, determined eyes, he took another bite of ice cream, the blue staining the inside of his lips.

“Tenko, that’s a really cool application of your quirk. I hope you can find more,” you said, tilting your head and smiling down at him, “but—I have to ask—aren’t you tired?”

Tenko rolled his eyes. “Of course. You’re part of the group ensuring I don’t have caffeine.”

“No, I mean,” you said, shaking your head, “I mean, you don’t have to be perceived as useful. You’re—you’re just fine if you wanted to rest. You’re worthwhile just as you, not as—as a job, as a, I don’t know, a redeemed hero or anything. You can just be Tenko.”

“I know. My therapist keeps reminding me. But one of the most vivid memories I have from when I was living in that house,” said Tenko, sneering, “is that I desperately wanted to be a hero and that I would pretend to be one a lot. While I’m aware that I can never atone for what I’ve done, if I did nothing but rest, I’d be alone with my thoughts. And with what I’m learning to do, as a hero, someday, someone might…need me. Need my help. I imagine that’s a good feeling.”

You sat back, leaning on your hands, the cast-iron pattern cutting into your palms, to survey him. “You’re very much re-writing my first impressions of you as my gaming buddy and as the post-war Shigaraki. You’re surprisingly well-adjusted.”

He snorted. “I shouldn’t think it’s surprising. I’ve had almost a year and a half in intensive rehab, and I’m still in therapy every day.” He started listing on his fingers, starting with his thumb. “I’m on antidepressants; I know where my next meal’s coming from and when I’ll get it; I consistently have a safe roof over my head, and I know my friends are getting that, too. I have mentors who care for me as a human person instead of as a tool. I get to stay in contact with my friends and get to make new ones,” he said, nodding curtly at you before quickly looking away, “I’m fucking away from that sadistic fuckface. He’s goddamn dead and burned away to nothing. That’s the main thing. Everything else is a bonus.”

Tenko sighed, bangs fluttering with the movement, his shoulders straining as he leaned onto both his elbows on the table. He sighed again and scooped the last gummy bear out of his cup, and you let the silence carry on while you finished eating.

“Long phone call,” Tenko said eventually.

An increasingly grumpy Aizawa was leaning against the glittery wall inside, phone between his ear and shoulder, and furiously scraping the inside of his ice cream cup.

“Yeah,” you said, “but it’s been good talking to you, Tenko. I really appreciate you telling me all of this.”

“I would’ve talked about it sooner, but I figured you knew who I was and didn’t want to address it,” said Tenko, tapping his fingers one by one on the table.

Pulling the collar of your coat closer to your neck, you frowned, hesitating on how to phrase it. You watched your breath cloud in the night air before settling on, “There’s an off-switch?”

Brow pinching very slightly, Tenko followed your gaze to his hand, with all five fingers coming to rest on the cast iron, and he tapped all five of them on it for emphasis. “Yeah. There always has been. All for One kept it from me. Power of belief kept me jittery and alert my whole life.”

“So long as you thought you’d destroy anything you touched, you would?”

He nodded. “That bitch.”

“Agreed. We should kill him.”

And Tenko laughed. Just for a moment, barely making any noise, but he smiled with his teeth, grin stretching across his face as he looked away and eventually closing his lips, the smile lingering for a few more precious seconds.

***

You closed your laptop to answer the phone at work, clearing your throat to ready your receptionist voice before you picked up. “U.A. University Administration; how may I help you?”

“I need you to fucking murder me,” Tenko spat through the phone, angry and panicked, “I need you to rip out my bones and suck out my guts through a straw. He fucking let me hold onto them, and I’ve fucking gone and lost such a fucking iconic piece of—”

“Tenko, please, take a breath,” you said, relaxing your customer service mode but clutching the phone to your ear, and after catching the eye of the woman with jars of strawberry preserves waiting to see Nezu, you slumped over in your seat so that she couldn’t see you over the desk’s overhang. “Tell me what’s wrong. We can fix it. Are you alone? Is everyone else busy? Do you need to come sit with me?”

“I—fuck,” he said, and you heard some deliberately slow breathing, but his voice still had an irate, twitchy edge afterwards. “During our practise patrol last night, Aizawa-sensei was talking about support equipment for me. I’d never given it much thought, because it’s always been just me and my hands. He leant me his Eraser Goggles for me to think about for my—and I don’t know where they fucking are,” he said, inhaling sharply on the last word, “I’d left them on my desk, but I’d taken them up to the roof to sketch them, and then I’d brought them back to my dorm—”

“And Aizawa-sensei must have swung by to pick them up since then,” you said, pushing yourself back to slide in your swivel chair to the back of the reception desk, “because he was here at the beginning of my shift to print something off, and the goggles are on top of the printer. Relax, Tenko.”

“Hooooooly fuck, you’re kidding,” said Tenko, audibly deflating, and you smiled to yourself as you slid their band around your wrist.

You kicked yourself back up to the front. “You’re okay. You’re not gonna get in trouble. I’ll bring them by at the end of my shift.” You sat up straight, and the strawberry preserves woman was shooting a concerned look in your direction. “I’m at work, though, so I think we’d better end the call soon. Anything else you need?”

Tenko hummed into the phone. “Not really. You can’t be that busy.”

You smiled again, feeling—feeling domestic, as if he were your boyfriend calling you during work hours. How strange, Shigaraki Tomura. How interesting. “Would you believe I was grinding in Cipherstone when you called?”

“And you don’t call yourself a gamer,” he said, clearing his throat multiple times, “What skills?”

“Woodcutting and firemaking,” you said, opening your laptop again, “Are you feeling under the weather? Your voice had a bit of a rasp there.” Sounded like his old voice for a moment.

“Further cementing that Aizawa-sensei’s right to be worried about you. He says your brain’s going haywire analysing any detail work you can get, because you’re not out in the field anymore,” said Tenko, clearing his throat again (?), “Am I your new project?”

“Tell me what’s wrong, lest I pick up some damn throat lozenges for you before I come home,” you said, and a voice in the back of your head screamed that that threat was extremely cosy and intimate, especially since you’re claiming both of you have a home in the same place—which, sure, you both lived on the same hallway, but so did Aizawa and Eri, and please shut up; Shimura Tenko needs a friend, not a lover right now. Besides, that stupid hallway wasn’t really home for either of you but was more like a temporary holding cell.

“Fine. I’ve been throwing up all morning.”

“Thank you,” you said, electing not to make a pregnancy joke, “Do you need to see Recovery Girl?”

“No, I’m used to it, and I’ve already talked to her about it. I threw up a lot out of anxiety and stress when I was growing up with All for One, and now I’m throwing up because my body can’t handle the amount of food it’s getting regularly, which is fucking ridiculous, since it’s still less than a normal person’s version of three meals a day.”

What. The fuck. How can he casually drop details of deep trauma like it’s nothing? How could AFO let a child keep vomiting out of stress for years and years and never interfere? Well. Yeah, he could. You supposed that Shigaraki’s voice, as you first heard it as the USJ incident, was the ultimate result of that heavy strain on his throat for years. Explains some things about his teeth back then, too.

God. If AFO weren’t dead, you’d strangle him. Keeping a child physically weak because he’d be easier to mould. It was known that AFO had been psychologically manipulating Shigaraki, but now that you thought about it, manipulating his physical growth would have served AFO, too, since he was planning to move into Shigaraki’s body.

And what did this guy do now that he’s got bodily autonomy? Oh. Just. Play some video games. Talk with his friends. Try out some new hobbies. Make crafts with Eri.

It’s a shame AFO didn’t have a grave, because you’d be skiving off work to drown it in acid.

“My stomach is killing me,” said Tenko, “I’ve got to hang up to drink something and go to sleep. Knock on my door when you get home. I want to start a new quest as soon as you finish work.”

Home. He’d said it, too. He probably didn’t mean it in the same, domestic way that you’d been entertaining, but it made your heart swell. “Okay, Tenko. See you then.”

***

His therapist had assigned him homework: go on a planned, public outing with a peer, and stay out for at least an hour.

It wasn’t exactly a picnic you were packing, you kept telling yourself, scooting behind Tenko to get to the spice cabinet in the dorm kitchen, because that’d be too close to a date rather than homework. But the two of you packed a meal to take, with Eri sitting on the kitchen counter while she nibbled at rabbit-cut apple slices, and she held the thermos of decaf tea in her lap until it was time to stow it away.

After a short train ride and a quiet walk through midtown, Tenko stopped you in front of the back gate to what appeared to be a restored, historical estate, judging by the golden shachihoko shibi on each corner of polished hip-and-gable rooftops of the extensively aristocratic—mansion? palace?—that you could make out in across the distance of its sprawling grounds, the immediacy of which was the excessively well-kept, traditional garden that you and Tenko were breaking into.

“Is this legal?” you asked as Tenko reached through the grate to unlatch the doorway.

“I have an in with the gardener,” he said, sweeping the gate open for you and gesturing brusquely for you to enter.

“No, that wasn’t a joke,” you said, taking the few steps inside, finding yourself planted onto a polished, level stepping stone, and staring down a squeaky clean tsukubai despite the thin layer of frost over the water’s surface as the whole bowl began to freeze, “You can’t be doing anything even vaguely illegal, Tenko.”

When you said his name, he closed his eyes, pausing for just a hair in his relatching the gate, before facing you and shifting the strap of his bag farther up his shoulder. “Prude. Yes, we have permission from the owner.”

He kept looking back over his shoulder at you as he led you through the gardens, hopping across stepping stones to pass over a carefully shaped brook that led to a tiny waterfall near stone lanterns, weaving through trellises with the wintry shells of wisteria vines and shaped evergreens. He tutted and rolled his eyes when you stopped at the waterlily-coated koi pond, its fish swimming and flicking their tails in the artificially heated water (for some, odd reason, what appeared to be a compact duck coop had been constructed near the pond’s edge, its wood new and un-bleached by the sun like the rest of garden décor). You’d been about to ask about it when Tenko had jumped out of his skin at the sound of a deer scare, bamboo tapping stone.

“Stop laughing,” Tenko said, cheeks burning (and you tried not to take too much pleasure in that, but you couldn’t help it).

“Oh, a sensitive boy, a delicate boy,” you said, grinning as you hopped onto the same stone as him, cool, clouding breaths mixing together in the proximity, and you yourself could feel heat rise to your face. “Nothing to be ashamed of. Good traits to have, actually. Means you’re feeling secure and comfortable in your surroundings, if you’re off-set that easily.” Feeling bold—it was the cold; it was how the proximity already flustered him; it was how his hands were full because of the bag; it was—whatever—you reached for his silly All Might scarf and re-tied the front, fluffing it up to cover more of his neck.

You made the mistake of making eye contact: full of caution, his eyes kept darting from your hands to your face, searching for something, his lips parted, otherwise completely fucking frozen.

Were you making him uncomfortable? You stilled, your fingers still in the fringe of his scarf, tension tightening in your chest and jaw (clenching).

Tenko noticed. And—and to this day, you can’t believe he fucking did this—he ran his tongue over his lower lip and lifted his chin, exposing more of his neck to you. He then was suddenly very interested in the koi pond, the ruddiness spreading from his cheeks to his ears.

Throat dry, you gave his scarf a final tug and patted it (?) to show (??) a job well done (???). “Yeah,” you said, smoothly, like a smooth person, like someone who adjusts scarves of hot, in-process-of-reformation villains on the regular, “Where are we going?”

Tenko spun on his heel and strode away, muttering what sounded like, “Right into my grave.”

You pretended not to hear it and let him lead you to the only building unattached to the main house: a small, traditional teahouse that had a recent addition to it in the back. The creak of the bamboo engawa when you climbed onto it was muffled underneath the bright pealing of windchimes strung across the covered porch. Tenko was already kneeling at the tearoom’s sunken fireplace inside, its handle carved into a fish, fiery as its kindling, and was unpacking the travel teacups from the bag as you closed the door behind you, shutting out the cold, enveloped by the comfortable heat trapped inside by the cushioned walls.

Tenko must have arranged for this space to have been prepared for you. A kotatsu with floor cushions was tucked near the fireplace, pre-heated, with two further space heaters in the unoccupied corners, cords trailing into what must be a hallway linking the traditional and modern rooms, the latter of which was shut off from view. Beside a red-tinted wooden dresser stood an oddly empty tokonoma, and instead of a scroll or painting, amidst bits of pieces of scotch tape hastily half-torn off the back was a shittily cut-out, paper heart.

Shaking your head, you took a step towards Tenko, and the floor chirped at you, freezing you in place.

“Yeah, I don’t know why they do that,” said Tenko, pushing on his knees to stand, “They just do.”

“These must be nightingale floors,” you said, crossing to the kotatsu, a bird under each step, “The chirping’s caused by the way the nails rub against the v-shaped clamps holding the floor together. Have you been to Nijō Castle in Kyoto? These are in the hallway—supposedly used as a security measure, but who knows.”

“You need a hobby.” Tenko ripped the paper heart from the back of the tokonoma, crumpling it in his fist. A shred of it remained under the scrap of tape on the wall, which he bent towards to scrape off with a blunt fingernail.

“I have several,” you said, easing down onto a cushion and unfolding your legs underneath the kotatsu blanket, the luxurious heat swaddling your legs and hips. You fought the urge to curl up underneath it entirely.

“How many of them involve getting your ass thrashed by me in Cipherstone?” Tenko retrieved the bag from the sunken fireplace before returning to the kotatsu, and he sat on your left, resting the bag between the two of you.

You took the thermos of decaf tea when he handed it to you. “Tenko, you’ve been playing that game for years, and I just began. Of course my ass is gonna be thrashed by—you know how the game works. You have all of this previous information about the game that I don’t have.”

Tenko scoffed and slid your teacup across the kotatsu’s surface.  “As if I could conceal any information from you. You’re too…eh.” He waved it off, shaking his head.

“I’m too what?” You unscrewed the thermos lid, and steam surged upwards, rising to caress the planes of your face.

“It’s been unfair of Aizawa-sensei to make me tail you,” said Tenko, leaning your way, all five fingers curled around his own teacup as he stretched across the tabletop. “I’d have a chance of success if it were anyone else.”

“I’ll give you that,” you said, pouring steaming, amber tea with slices of yuzu into Tenko’s cup, “You’re getting quite good at it, not that you were bad in the first place. But yeah, it’s a bit mean of him to test your tracking skills on me.” He’d never said to stop, so you poured until liquid almost overflowed at the rim.

He gasped at the heat but nudged his teacup back to his place at the table, unable to hold it in his palm anymore. “I think I would’ve preferred working with Hound Dog-sensei for that. He’s less detail-oriented. I could win, if it weren’t you.” Jutting out his lower lip, Tenko glared down at his tea for a moment before slumping in his seat to slurp at the tea without picking it up.

“Don’t feel bad about it. It was literally and actually my focus for hero work, profiling and detail shit and being aware of my surroundings. Information stuff. Infiltration stuff.” Setting the thermos on the far corner, you cupped your hands loosely around your teacup, appreciating the warmth and getting cosier by the minute.

Tenko was rooting through the bag for the other thermoses, full of sukiyaki for each of you. “It’s clear you’ve worked hard to hone your skills. Were you this talented as a student?”

You accepted the new thermos, fingers clenching tightly around it. “Uh. I think I may have been better back then. More focused. More passionate, anyway. I had to think about it really hard back then, make conscious decisions to notice things, and now I think I do it instinctively. I think I’m slipping because of that.”

“Hm,” said Tenko, tongue rubbing over his teeth behind closed lips, and he opened his mouth to say something but shut it, instead twisting off the cap to his soup thermos. He took the first sip of sukiyaki broth and—and was absolutely beautiful (you couldn’t make sense of it beyond that; he was a mess of details that you couldn’t fit together into a larger picture that made any sense: white eyelashes light against his cheeks as they fluttered shut, face muscles relaxed, scars overlapping with laugh lines, cracked lips becoming moistened by the soup, both hands cupped around his thermos like a child, no strain to his posture, baggy hoodie swallowing him up, kotatsu blanket yanked up to his hips to cover his crossed legs, scar on the corner of his mouth delicately shifting with his baffled smirk when he caught you staring, a strange pink rising to the tips of his ears). “What?”

Uh. Hm. You pinched the bridge of your nose and then moved to rub your eyelids. “What were you going to say about me?” you asked, and you withdrew your hand from your face to raise the soup thermos to your lips, taking a mouthful of noodles and the sweet, salty broth.

Tenko shook his head. “I’m trying to avoid thoughts that fall back into my old habits.”

“Try me,” you said, holding his gaze when he met it, “I won’t tell.”

Weary, he broke eye contact, and he fixated on fishing out a certain slice of green onion. “We needed someone like you back then.”

Back then? When he—oh.

Back in the League.

Though you attempted to hide your grin by taking a sip of sukiyaki, you caught his eyes flicker to it. “You would’ve taken me? You would’ve let me in?”

“Would you have joined?” he shot back, a bit too quickly.

“No,” you said, rolling your shoulders and settling down farther underneath the kotatsu, “Never. But since you shared something you shouldn’t’ve, I’ll do the same.” You set your thermos down to rub your eyes again—God, you couldn’t look at him for too long, lest your intrusive thoughts hand you your ass. “I thought about it. About joining you.”

You dragged your hand down your face, peeking between your fingers at a muted clink. Tenko was staring at you, something fucking unreadable in his scrounched eyes, and both hands lay five-fingered and flat on the kotatsu, steam from his open thermos fluffing up hair on one side of his head. “You’re not serious. You wouldn’t have.”

“Not in the way you think,” you said, tilting your head back, “but I often thought, in the aftermath of the Paranormal Liberation Raid, what I could’ve done, if I’d known what I know now. And as the rest of the war was unfolding, I only wanted it more.”

Tenko blinked, slowly. “Tell me what you would’ve done.”

“Oh, you would’ve hated me, down to the dregs of my very soul,” you said, shifting to sit on your knees, “I would’ve started after your fight with Re-Destro, after the PLF was established. When you were letting allllllllll those heroes in, the sidekicks, the nobodies, anyone who seemed like they were with the cause. I would’ve infiltrated. Slipped in without notice. Hawks did, with the Commission, but I would’ve been going in as a free agent.”

“No one notices a U.A. student slide in between the masses. Re-Destro’s lackeys wouldn’t notice you at the door like I would. You get in,” Tenko said, taking his thermos in hand again but still engrossed in you, “What then?”

“There was a short period of time between the PLF establishment and your procedure, right? Around a month? That’s when I go. I worm my way into the good graces of some of the nine lieutenants—I’ve decided my pipeline would’ve been Geten to Toga to you. You’d just come out of an enormous battle, with Re-Destro and that city and Gigantomachia for a whole month. I heard you were bandaged up, on crutches, that you’d lost fingers that you regrew in that regeneration tank,” you said, eyes on his hands, one in a fist in his lap and the other around his thermos, five fingers pressing onto the grip but the pinkie finger hitched farther up than the rest, “That you’d given a speech and made your appearances regardless. That you’d pushed yourself to your limit and then broke yourself a little more. And you would’ve loathed me, because I would’ve come in, earned my way to your side, and I would’ve put my hand on your shoulder, slid it up your neck to cup your cheek to ask Aren’t you tired? Don’t you want to rest?” You smiled and huffed, shoving it down, and though his hard stare should’ve pinned you to your seat, you pushed on the corner of the kotatsu to edge yourself over to his side, a knee on his cushion. “I like to think that you’ve sighed, sulked a bit, reluctant to admit anything was wrong at all, because back then, you had no use for moonlight. But I would’ve made you look at me, taken you to a bed, made you lie down until your eyes fluttered shut and the tension swept through your body and left. And you would rest,” you said, finding yourself leaning over him very slightly, knees touching his, just enough so that he leant backwards just a fraction, “I would’ve made that month so soft for you. I would’ve taken care of you, when nobody was fucking paying attention to you in the way that they should’ve. I fucking—I wanted it.” You gripped the front of his hoodie, fist grasping more fabric than necessary to shake him. “I wanted it. I wanted to care for you. But I couldn’t. I didn’t know. And you were fucking alone, in an unfamiliar place, and it kills me to think about that.”

You ducked your head to wipe your watery eyes on your sleeve, taking a breath—and realising what you were doing. You loosened your grip, but before you could pull away, Tenko was cat-like quick to grab your sleeve—why won’t he touch you?

“I wouldn’t have accepted your help,” he said, quiet, controlled, holding you down with his eyes, hand shifting to curve under your sleeved wrist, signalling that you could escape at any time, “That was after the worst month of my life, fighting Machia, and I wouldn’t have accepted it. I had too much to do. I would’ve shaken you off.”

“No, you wouldn’t’ve.”

“I would’ve,” he said, a bare finger, featherlight, skimming over the tender, bare skin of the underside of your wrist (oh, wow), “I wouldn’t trust that easily in that short of a time. You’d have met me, and that’d be it. If you’d persisted, I would’ve ripped you to shreds and tossed you aside.”

“Tenko,” you said, both relief and tightness blooming from your wrist, “You couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.”

The hallway shoji slammed open, somehow rattling as it slid in its tracks and shook the walls, and you and Tenko scrambled apart, with you jolting backwards on your hands, grappling for your seat cushion, and Tenko banging his thermos on the kotatsu, hastily wrestling with keeping it upright as he flung his body to the side.

“Hey, fuck you, Touya,” Tenko spluttered out, elbowing himself upright as—as fucking Dabi strode inside, hands in the deep pockets of his black sweatpants. “You said you’d stay in the main house.”

“Don’t mind me,” said Touya, cool as you please, raising both of his hands in defence, “I had to ensure you’re not fucking in my bed.”

“What is—” Tenko clambered to his feet to cross to him, chirping with each stomp, and whisper-shouting once he’d corralled Touya into a far corner. “I said we’d hang out later today, Touya. You swore you’d stay inside and watch Naruto this afternoon.”

The polite thing to do would be to appear fascinated by the tea. You returned to your cushion and poured yourself another cup.

“Yeah, but I’ve been told I’ve got shit to do later. I’ve got to go to this fuckin’—fuckin’ family stuff. I don’t wanna get into it,” said Touya, at full volume, “and I wanted to check that your girl was real. Y’know, she looks nothing like someone who’d have GinzengTea as her username. Have you given it to her already?”

“Shut the fuck up. I was just about to do that, if you hadn’t interrupted, cockhead.”

“Cool,” he said, a bird-note as he shifted his weight, “I wanna see what she thinks.”

“Hell, no—”

“I helped pick ‘em out. Let me watch and have an ohagi, and I’ll leave,” said Touya, chirping towards you before he finished the sentence, and Tenko followed him, muttering under his breath.

Touya sat on the bare tatami next to you, joints cracking as he yanked the kotatsu blanket up his legs, shooting you a small salute and a concerningly charming smile. “Hey,” he said, tilting his head, eyes half-lidded, smile stretching to show more of his even, white teeth, “I’ve seen you before, yeah? When was the last time you laid eyes on me?”

Tenko pelted him in the chest with a plastic-wrapped ohagi, cutting off the ooze of charisma. “Show-off,” he said, nudging another sweetened rice ball your way.

You nodded but didn’t move to unwrap it, since you were still working on your sukiyaki. “I’m surprised you remember, Touya,” you said, the name feeling strange on your tongue, “It must’ve been years since I elbowed you in the tit.”

Eyes lighting the fuck up, you snapped towards Tenko when he laughed into his plastic wrap: still not loud, still not making any vocalisation with it, but releasing a heavy, sharp burst of air with a wide, open grin. He hunched over to hide more of it, using both hands to unwrap his ohagi—and in the moment he realised he’d been unwrapping it with only his pointer fingers and thumbs, he dropped the rest of his fingers onto the rice ball, still smirking to himself.

Biting your lip in your own smile, you turned back to Touya (you caught his moment of mild alarm at how thrilled you were when Tenko laughed—or maybe it was alarm at Tenko laughing at all—but Touya relaxed his eyebrows and shut his mouth the second you faced him again). “God, yeah, it must have been before that last battle that we’d met in a fight, and I’d gotten close enough to hit you, and…” You shook your head. “Actually, I don’t wanna talk about that stuff. It’s not who we are now.”

“That’s fine.” Touya nodded towards Tenko and took a bite of his ohagi. “Shimura, don’t you have something to give her?”

Shimura. That was his last name, you supposed, but wasn’t it odd that Tenko called Touya by his given name and that Touya called Tenko by his family name? Tenko didn’t make you call him Shimura. Well, you supposed that there’s only one Shimura now, and because of the number of Todorokis, it paid to be specific—

“Here.” Tenko set a flat box in front of you, flipping the buckle of his bag back over. “I was going to give it to you with more formality, but since this bastard showed up, I’m doing it like this.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, brow furrowed, you unpacked a pair of pale blue headphones, soft to the touch with a mesh headband so that your head wouldn’t ache.

“Noise-cancelling,” Tenko said, gabbling, frowning very slightly, “Rechargeable. There’s a detachable microphone so it can function as a headset. I wanted to do something good for you.” His eyes darted towards Touya, and they dropped to his ohagi’s bulging filling, seeping out onto the plastic wrap. “You need them, anyway. I’ve been sick of hearing you through those shitty earbuds; their sound is terrible, and when you said you’d lost your only pair—which I don’t fucking understand how you can lose those things, because they just fucking show up in my shit all the time, like a goddamn plague—I thought you needed something quality—just to make it easier on my end, obviously, so that I don’t have to tell you to yell into that shitty, built-in micropho—”

“Tenko,” you said, reaching over to place your tea-hot hand over the back of his, fingers curving with his along ohagi’s edge, “Thank you so much. I adore them. I’m really grateful that you would think of me.”

Tenko froze, the same as he had when you’d adjusted his scarf. Unable to look you in the eye, like a prey animal, stiff, shoulders tense, colour rushing up his neck to his face and ears again—but this time, he lifted his hand just a hair from his ohagi to press back into your palm, and the corner of his mouth twitched.

“Hoo, boy,” said Touya, startling the both of you when he slammed his hands on the kotatsu to push himself up, “I’ve had enough. I’ve had my little snack. I’m leaving.” Once on his feet, he stretched, pressing his hands to his lower back and arching it, grunting.

“Good fucking riddance, cocksucker,” said Tenko, rising and grabbing Touya by the elbow to haul him to the door.

“Yeah, yeah,” said Touya, dragging his feet, chirping slurred and confused by his movement, and when Tenko had him at the wall, trying to shove him out, Touya, smirking under your watch, whispered something to Tenko while forcing something into his palm. Touya ducked out as Tenko looked at what he’d accepted and, letting out a yelp, dusted whatever it was before he hurried back to the kotatsu.

(When you left the teahouse half an hour later, you discovered that he’d decayed only the wrapper and not the condom itself.)

***

“One moment, please. Nezu-sensei is in a meeting right now, but he’ll be out momentarily. Please take a number—yes, the ticket puncher when you first came in,” you said to yet another impatient and pissed client in the admin waiting room, packed to the gills with parents, press, vendors, potential sponsors, and, for some reason, Mt. Lady’s entire representative team. “By the door. If you’ll take a seat, we’ll be with you shortly.”

God, you could punt Nezu for this. Not that there was anything wrong with establishing a new, annual event for U.A.—a cherry blossom garden-set, competitive scavenger hunt coming up in the spring—but because of his casual comment that it would rise to the same importance as the Sports Festival, you were swamped with those eager to invest early. Unable to take a break, you had to work with your head bowed, desperately hoping none of these people recognised you and your failure, when all you wanted was to reply to Tenko’s messages on Cipherstone that morning.

Tenkopeito: You’ll like the next quest. You can pet a dog in it

Tenkopeito: Come over to my room this evening so that we can talk in person

Was he intending to speak with innuendo or with such sincerity that it cut right through you? Moreover, was he aware he was even doing it? Based on what you’ve observed, Tenko had no idea what he was doing to you, nor did he know how hard you were trying not to act on your attraction, though you weren’t even doing a great job of suppressing it.

It’s strange: Tenko evoked some strange, unnameable emotion in you like nothing else. You wanted to coddle him; you wanted to play stupid video games with him; you wanted to sweep his hair out of his eyes, and though you kept telling yourself that you didn’t, you wanted him to tell you how to touch yourself, how to touch him. You brushed it off. Another time. Perhaps never.

“Oh, hi!” Former pro-hero Ragdoll squealed your family name, making you jump in your seat. “It is you. I couldn’t tell from farther back in the line.” Fuck, Ragdoll would recognise you, since she and the rest of the Wild, Wild Pussycats trained Class A, and she specifically spent time with you on your tracking skills because of her Search quirk.

Don’t cause a scene. “Hello, Shiretoko,” you said, doing your best not to let your face be seen from over the reception desk’s overhang, “It’s good to see you. How can I help?”

When she beamed, she was as bright as ever. “Oh! The Pussycats want to offer our services for the scavenger hunt! We wanna get back into charity and civilian events now that we’re back from our mission for—but wait, you know all about that!” You didn’t. But her cheerful voice carried, and people were already turning towards Ragdoll, part of a hero team ranked in the top thirty. “I wanna hear more about what you’ve been up to! Since you left the hero business, no one’s known where you’ve been! Gosh, have you been behind this dreary old desk the whole time?” Ragdoll leant over the overhang, flicking at a loose strand of your hair. “I thought you were sent out on missions out of the country! Like, really important, top-secret stuff. It’s weird seeing you in an office, especially since I consider you a mini me. Why are you back at your alma mater? Did your agency not want you anymore?”

She wasn’t meaning to be cruel. Her loud, blunt sincerity, though, drew the attention of onlookers, and their flashes of recognition, subsequent judgment, and turning away made your chest tight. “I needed a break. That’s all.”

A thin, blonde woman in a burgundy overcoat leaning against the wall immediately next to the reception had been evaluating you, scanning you from top to bottom during the exchange. She didn’t bother hiding her curiosity, and when you shakily handled the rest of the conversation with Ragdoll, she turned to the short, softly featured man beside her. “You know her?” She hadn’t even tried to quiet her voice; it jolted you from Ragdoll, but you steeled yourself and continued printing off a schedule for her—and from the depths of your brain came the woman’s identity: Uwabami, the snake hero, one who usually flaunted her celebrity status but currently dressed down, without her hair snakes (a rattlesnake, a yellow king cobra, and a Japanese rat snake, which—shut up! You don’t need this information right now! Can you be fucking sane, please?).

Her sidekick—no, an intern, a student at U.A., some fuckin’ twink in the year below you, name escaping you at the moment—had some iota of tact when he looked you over, slanting his body away, as if he weren’t staring. “Yes,” he said, trying not to let you hear, “She’s my former senpai and nothing more to me. We didn’t run in the same circles. She’s the one who made that rescue a few months back, the one that got a lot of online backlash.”

“No, seriously,” Ragdoll was saying, “Why are you back at U.A.? Don’t you have somewhere else to go?”

“My—” People behind Ragdoll in line were listening. Trying not to show it. Your throat ran dry, and you couldn’t think of a lie or a pleasant half-truth. “My flat was compromised. My address was leaked, and eventually, people were—look, Shiretoko,” you said, forcing the words out of your mouth, “I really don’t want to talk about this. Here’s the printed schedule. I’ll talk to you later.”

You slid the paper across the counter, and she took it, waving goodbye and still beaming.

“Is this what happens when a hero career doesn’t work out? They just shove you back where someone will take you? At any old office desk?” that fucking twink was asking Uwabami, “I can’t—it honestly scares me to think I could lose myself and be misplaced like that. It’s wasting talent, don’t you think?”

“How can I help you?” you asked the next person in line through gritted teeth.

When Uwabami lowered her sunglasses to glance over them, you inhaled sharply and swung your swivel chair so that you wouldn’t see her. “I don’t know about that. Maybe this dreadful administration office is where she’s meant to be.”

Biting his lip, he shifted his jaw and crossed his arms, slumping against the wall. “You’ll always have a place for me, right, Uwabami? I don’t want this to happen to me.”

“Yes, I can print you out a copy of the same schedule. If you’ll allow me a moment to print.”

“Of course, Kakeru,” Uwabami said, ignorant of how you were gripping a pencil so tightly that it could snap any second, “You’ll never be left behind.” But then she fucking stared you down, deliberately holding eye contact while you were at the printer, and she said, “You’ll never need a place to hide. I’ll make sure you don’t fail.”

“Hey, how about you shut up?” you hissed, ripping the printer-warm schedule from the tray and storming back to your current client to shove it into their hands. “Aren’t Japanese rat snakes supposed to be in hibernation this time of year, anyway?”

***

Someone in Mt. Lady’s group recorded it. Someone posted it.

wizardjenkins11: jesus christ who knew u.a. had its own island of misfit toys

emotionalsupportdynamightsweat: nice to see that she kept her snark, but what is she doing back at school?? don’t heroes have some sort of paperwork component to their work. why isn’t she still at an agency

blood-is-thiccer: lol ua’s the only one who’d take the bitch. she’s being rude as hell to an actual pro hero. lameass quirk anyway and ass flat as hell lmao she fucken deserved that guy lighting her mailbox on fire

LynchianTiddies: You’re encouraging domestic terrorism???

blood-is-thiccer: that’s not domestic terrorism

LynchianTiddies: Then what, pray fucking tell, is it??

blood-is-thiccer: wikipedia.org/wiki/Vandalism

XylemPhloemBuckaroo: no but I get what that guy was saying about wasting talent tho. Out of everyone in that class a, she’s the only one not topping the fucking hero charts rn. She’s the only one who’s left hero work. What makes her weaker than the rest of her classmates? What happened to her to make her like this?

koiboi69: wouldn’t you quit if people were camping outside your house/work/grocerystore? And also FUCK, man, there’s no fucking need to say she’s fucking weak. that’s kicking her while she’s down

XylemPhloemBuckaroo: I’m not kicking her while she’s down. I’m stating facts and asking reasonable questions.

koiboi69: bro wouldn’t YOU feel down if you’d didn’t have a home to go back to??? going back to u.a. is like admitting defeat, like you couldn’t handle it on your own and need protection

mawatadaddysgorl: i love seeing updates on her bc it makes me feel so good about what i’m doing with my life

***

Uraraka and Shinsou texted you but couldn’t call, let alone come from across town. Aizawa was AWOL, and Dango was hiding under your bed, so you, blotchy-faced and damp, were crumpled on the floor outside of room 310, eating vending machine bullshit and waiting for Tenko to return home.

Exactly all the insecurities you’d been stuffing down for months and months, brought out to air in front of everyone. Instead of doomscrolling, you locked your phone and slid it across the hallway carpet, burying your face in your hands and stomach lurching to the thought that you might soon be plastered everywhere in sight, again. Another round of intensive laying low loomed on the horizon, especially now that your location was made public. Your little secretary job was good enough, and relocating elsewhere on campus would lead to more job training, which would be a bitch.

Where was Tenko? You needed him here to say something irreverent and vindictive. Something unhinged. Or you needed him to hold you, pull you into his lap, and bitch about the whole thing while watching a movie. Tenko had messaged you to come by after work, so why wasn’t he…?

The staircase door hissed open, Tenko pushing it with his back, reusable grocery bags on his arms, and—and wearing a cape? Who the fuck wears a cape casu—oh shit he’s in his hero costume.

You’d heard that he had one, designed by the same company that’d made Midoriya’s and Shouto’s, and the similarities were clear: a boxy sort of design due to thick fabric that still somehow hugged his chest, a minimalist utility belt, and sturdy, knee-capping boots, positively flaming scarlet in contrast to the dark greys of the rest of his jumpsuit. The most obvious connection with another hero, though, made your chest throb: his cloak fastened with the same clasp his grandmother’s had. His dust-blocking respirator lay around his neck for the moment, but what was most embarrassing for you was how your brain fucking wheezed like a boiling kettle at his bare arms, biceps bulging, every fucking inch of skin down to his fingertips completely on display like a goddamn slut.

Whore behaviour. Whore behaviour! You had to duck your head when he squatted next to you, because oh, now you could see the stretch marks on his upper arms, because he’d gotten large way too quickly to be healthy, and smell his fading Old Spice and sweat from being out on what must have been an emergency call, and he was setting his grocery bags aside, reaching out to graze your shoulder, and wow, he’d been complaining about how he didn’t have abs yet despite working out five days a week now that his stamina had increased, but that fabric clung to his lower abdomen, looking very, very flat.

Initially pinching the fabric of your sweater, he shifted his jaw and laid his hand on your shoulder. “Who am I dusting?”

“God, Tenko,” you said, trying to look anywhere but his arms, or his abdomen, or his fucking lips, but he was leaning so much over you that he occupied most of your line of vision, and the only way to avoid seeing anything besides wisps of white hair was to gaze at the popcorned ceiling. “You’re not supposed to do that anymore.”

“Oh, yeah? Who am I dusting?” He squeezed your shoulder, stretching his thumb out to rub at your collarbone.

“Unless you can dust everyone in the country, I don’t think decay will help.”

Tenko clicked his tongue. “I have been explicitly told not to do that,” he said, shifting to sit on his knees, “I have—” He dug into a grocery bag for a moment. “—this for you. You like this shit, right?” Tenko pressed a bottle of pink lemonade into your hands.

“Fucking. Fuck. I do,” you said, passing the condensation-coated bottle from one hand to another, chest tightening, blinking to keep the water levels low, “Thank you. You didn’t have to get me this.”

“I know that,” he said with a dismissive wave, and he paused, fists in his lap. “Would it help if I gave you a hug?”

(What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck what the—)

“Yeah,” you said calmly, like a calm person, and when Tenko opened his (muscular) arms, you crawled into them, wrapping your own around his back to rest between his shoulder blades. You rested your chin in a fold of his cape, cheek pressing against the side of his respirator, and you frowned as his embrace tightened, pulling you closer in a sloppy, unpractised sort of way, grounded by the steady rise and fall of his very solid chest.

(This felt…affectionate. Romantic, even.

But Shigaraki Tomura didn’t do romance, and you don’t—you’re not—you wouldn’t dream of being conceited enough to read someone’s perhaps thoughtless actions as flirtation, because why would someone be flirting with you? No one did that in general, and being U.A.’s humiliating problem child exacerbated the fact.

Moreover, why would the man who was Shigaraki Tomura, in the middle of his rehabilitation and re-discovery of self, even in the microscopic chance that he had the mental energy to experience romantic feelings, aim that romantic impulse towards you? It would make more sense if he liked someone he’d known for a while, like Touya or Spinner or Toga, and if his romantic feelings leant towards recuperative trauma-bonding, wouldn’t it be more apt to feel for someone at his rehab? His therapist, maybe? He’d idolised Aizawa before he’d met him, and even that would make more sense than latching onto someone as late in the process as you.

He’d gotten flustered when you’d tied his scarf, and Touya’s played terrible wingman. But still. You couldn’t know. You can’t read into this, even though reading into things had been your job, because—because no one would want you. You’ll have to…You’ll have to gather more evidence. You couldn’t be certain.)

Tenko hummed, chin digging into your shoulder, blowing strands of your hair out of his face. “I calmed a kid down earlier by hugging her. Is this working for you?”

(…oh.)

You sniffled and hid your mouth in his cape so that he couldn’t catch your pout. “That’s—that’s good that a kid allowed you to comfort her. What happened?”

“Pipes broke in an old apartment building in the Takoba district. The third floor collapsed under the pressure, and it trapped families in part of the building. I was called out to dust the rubble trapping them,” Tenko said, tapping his fingers high on your back in a ripple, “and they had me dust some other walls to help start the repairs. It was cool. And this one little girl who’d gotten out before the rest of her family was really nervous, and she was sticking to me, holding onto my cape. I was telling her that everything was gonna be okay, like you’ve taught me, and when I asked how she was doing, this fuckin’ kid extended her arms to me. So, I fucking hugged her. Picked her up so she could see what was happening better. It was weird, but it felt good.” Tenko sighed. “I hate how it wants me to be kind more.”

And fuck, fuck, that’s the last straw to this horrible day, and you’re crying, silently, controlling your breathing to keep Tenko from finding out, because goddammit, this idiot bastard man was surprisingly easy to love.

You buried your face fully in his shoulder, hoping he couldn’t feel any wetness through his costume, and you and Tenko sat in the quiet of the hallway for a minute, interrupted only by the A/C kicking in.

Tenko tried to part the two of you enough to look you in the face, but you doubled down, curling your fingers into the fabric of his jumpsuit and keeping your head bowed. Scoffing, he sat upright, making you follow his movements to stay hidden. “You gonna tell me what’s wrong yet?”

“Forget all that shit I’ve taught you,” you said, grumbling to his tits now that he’d changed positions, hating how stopped up you sounded already, “It doesn’t matter what you fucking do in the public’s eye, because there’s always gonna be someone who hates you. You can’t please everyone, so just fucking be yourself. That’s funnier, anyway.”

“Did you psychoanalyse some press member’s pathetic sex life, or something? Deduce an affair based on the way he knots his tie? Announce the state of his dick to the whole room because of the length of his pants?”

“Fuck off, Tenko. I’m not some pretentious-ass Sherlock Holmes bitch,” you said, pursing your lips and instinctively pulling back to glare at him—

And the moment you did, Tenko cupped your face in his hands, soft at the palm and strongly calloused along his fingers, keeping you facing towards him no matter how hard you tried to jerk away, struggling to stay upright. “You are crying.”

“No, I’m not,” you said, just as a falling tear touched his thumb. As you adjusted to his grip, your hands fell to his thighs, pressing against them in fists.

“Hm. Well, you don’t have to tell me,” he said, eyes on another tear trailing down the other cheek, “but you’re joining me to watch a movie with Eri. I got snacks on the way home.”

You sighed, taking in how big his hands were and how much of your face they encompassed, trying to memorise their feeling until they were snatched away forever. “I thought we were gonna start a new quest tonight. I was excited.”

Tenko balked and shifted into a sceptical grin. “You wanted to play Ciperstone tonight?” he asked, both thumbs rubbing your cheekbones and moving to swipe underneath your eyes.

You sighed again, shoulders heaving as Tenko released your face to flick tears off of his hand. “I didn’t want to be myself for a few hours.”

Tenko pushed on his knees to stand. “That’s actually related to what I originally wanted to talk to you about. Furthering the working-with-others mission,” he said, and he extended his hand to help you up. “What do you know about Dungeons and Dragons?”

***

“God fucking dammit!” Tenko slammed his palm to his forehead and leant back to balance on the kitchen chair’s back legs and then combed his fingers back through his hair, upsetting some strands from his ponytail. Groaning, he crooked his face your way, smushed his face against the chair back, and pointed towards his forehead, where a red splot was forming. “Hit me as hard as you can.”

“Being bludgeoned won’t change the fact that you rolled a three,” you said, nodding towards his d20, “I ignore his whining and continue to drain the fig tree to charge my spell.”

Behind the DM screen, Shinsou rolled his own dice, and once his eyebrows had shot up to his hairline, he turned to Midoriya. “I need you to roll two d12s and a d4.”

Tenko bolted upright, hastily sweeping his bangs out of his face. “Wait, what does Midoriya have to do with it? He’s across the fucking grove! He’s engaged in close-ranged combat.”

You turned away from Shinsou’s sly grin and towards Tenko, mouth nearly a straight line, yanking another cluster of grapes from the communal bowl, and shoving two grapes in his mouth. He pinched at his lower lip as he chewed, twisting and peeling at dead skin, frowning as he focused on his character sheet, scanning it for some sort of information he was forgetting and absentmindedly raising his knee to his chest, the heel of his foot propped on the seat of his chair (thank God his jeans were from Best Jeanist’s Moulded to Your Ass line: the denim strained with his muscles. Your eye twitched). In this particular morning, with the five of you squared off at Aizawa’s kitchen table, papers and dice strewn among grocery store bakery cinnamon rolls and coffee cups (Tenko’s was full of gatorade instead of coffee, much to his chagrin), as Tenko was throwing grapes into Touya’s mouth while Shinsou did math, the narwhal house slippers dangling off Tenko’s feet, it struck you that Shigaraki Tomura had become just some guy. One who went for walks to clear his head, who spent hours failing to do a kickflip on Present Mic’s skateboard, who used emoticons over emojis, who got nervous in fast food drive-throughs, who collected hero merch (of Aizawa fervently and Present Mic against his will), who was losing his sensitivity to foods like leeks and onions, a man who was growing more and more exquisitely mundane.

And goddamn, he’s clever and perceptive and patient and cheeky in a devastatingly attractive way, and he’s flustered easily, eager to do a thing correctly, and utterly, totally captivating in his endless discoveries of what it means to be alive.

You timed it so that the shudder and shock crossing his face could pass as response to Shinsou’s description of how Tenko’s enchanted crossbow bolt missed the Spirit Realm Necromancer entirely, instead sinking into the sacred Grand Oak and instantly shattering the tree as if it were glass, its elaborate root system holding up the floating grove splintering into thousands of tiny shards, the ground beneath your party’s feet crumbling at the slightest suggestion of the shifting of weight. But really he curled in his lips with a furrowed brow and stuttering breath when you reached underneath the table to graze the back of his hand, and when he forced himself to relax, shoulders slackening, frown fading, Tenko spread his fingers to cover more of his denim-clad thigh, which you took as a timid sort of consent. Biting the inside of your cheek, you eased your palm over the back of Tenko’s hand, lacing your fingers through his and going through the motions of reacting to Shinsou’s shattered earth. Neither of you looked at each other while Midoriya’s character suffered the Necromancer’s spell to increase gravity, each movement of Midoriya’s bulky, steel armour accelerating the fall of the floating grove. By the time each of you had had enough turns to land on solid ground, preserving little of the sacred grove but all surviving, Tenko finally squeezed your fingers back, curling his own to grip them more firmly, keeping your hand pinned to his thigh, steeling himself, sitting up straight, and proposing getting close enough to the Necromancer to drive a crossbow bolt directly into his skull.

Midoriya was already muttering to himself over the effectiveness of the action while Shinsou worked, and Touya irreverently flicked his dice at Tenko, chugging coffee with his other hand. “You plunge the bolt by hand into the Necromancer’s head,” said Shinsou, “but with your strength debuff still in effect, you only nick him.”

“I try stabbing it through his ear.”

“It goes through,” said Shinsou, nodding and running his hand back through his hair, which sprung back into place, “It doesn’t pierce the neocortex, so he can still summon another—“

“I stomp him to death with my hooves,” said Touya, picking at his teeth and running his tongue over the spot.

The rest of you turned to him slowly in various states of incredulity.

“You don’t have hooves, Touya,” you said, tilting your head at the same time Tenko rubbed his thumb over yours, prompting your breath to hitch and a strange warmth to travel through your body, making you feel dizzy.

Touya grimaced and reached for a cinnamon roll. “I take off my leather breeches and boots to reveal my hooves. I have been a satyr masquerading as a human this whole time.” He leant forward on his elbow, glaring at Shinsou and gesturing with his cinnamon roll. “I stomp him. To death. With my hooves.”

Tenko sneered, his teeth cutting into his lower lip, but he merely opened his mouth and closed it, poking his tongue into his cheek. “I suppose maiming a party member wouldn’t coincide with my character’s chaotic good alignment,” he said, heaving a huge sigh to—oh, that cunning rat bastard—to conceal how he flipped his hand over in yours to touch palms, weaving your fingers back together and squeezing again, planting them back on his upper leg, massaging between your knuckles with his thumb.

“What’d you just roll?”

“Nineteen,” said Touya, casting Shinsou a slice of his most charming smile.

Midoriya let out a little laugh as Shinsou bitterly plopped his head on his fist. “Fuck you, Touya. Congratulations. You clomp over to the Necromancer and stomp all over him. Stompy stomp stomp stompy stomp. It’s difficult to watch at the insane speed you’re going, so no one stops you from doing such a good job pounding him that he’s ground into dust. Bits of him drift away in the wind.”

Here Midoriya winced. “Weren’t we supposed to retrieve the soul crystal embedded in his gauntlet? We can’t get our reward from that Silver Age dragon rider if we don’t have it.”

“Correct,” said Shinsou, glancing down at his notes, “It has been stomped to smithereens. You can’t even make out what parts of the pile of dust were once flesh.”

Ready to bolt, Touya was getting up from the table and holding up his hands in defence, but before Midoriya could start a speech that would have been more apt for the number one hero to use on patrol rather than during a DND game, the door to Aizawa’s flat opened, and in he walked, covering his yawn with the back of his hand. He halted at the sight of the five of you around his kitchen table, taking in the scattered papers and remnants of breakfast before settling on your DM. “Shinsou,” Aizawa began, disappointment outweighing the exhaustion in his voice.

“You’re the only one with a table that could fit all of us,” Shinsou said, spinning in his chair to face him, “This dormitory doesn’t have a good common area like the student ones do. Would you really prefer us to—”

“We can find you a table; there’s plenty on campus.” Aizawa lifted his goggles over his head to set them on the counter. “Is this why Monoma kept slowing me down during patrol?”

“No,” you and Shinsou said, while Tenko said, “Yes.”

Aizawa actually smiled as he unwound his capture weapon from around his neck. “Look who’s the only one telling the truth.”

“Why would I lie to you, sensei?”

Touya smacked Tenko on the arm. “Suck-up.”

“You promise?” Tenko shot back, nose wrinkling with his grin.

“This coffee had better be amazing, because it’s the only thing keeping me from kicking you all out right now,” said Aizawa, rubbing a dry eye with the heel of his palm, other hand outstretched for someone to pass him a mug.

Tenko’s thumb bent inward to swipe the inside of your palm, a silent protest while he drank from his stupid little mug of gatorade, and when he noticed what was at the bottom, he flinched. It must have been Touya who’d put your dice in Tenko’s cup.

***

Following the video of you insulting Uwabami, you’re garnering an unnerving amount of attention again, but it’s clearly someone different than last time. Whoever your stalker(s) was this time around, they were careless and unsubtle—and this confidence to be careless left you jumping at the slightest sound when you were alone.

Furthermore, you legitimately couldn’t deduce your stalker’s motivations, because no clear message linked his actions. At first, you chalked it up to the dorm’s shitty dryer eating your bright blue thong, but when you couldn’t find your lip balm or trolley pass or eventually your favourite sweater, you concluded that something else was at play here, further cemented by more and more tiny things going missing—things that, if you were stalking someone, you would’ve selected as small enough not to miss.

But bizarrely, your stalker left shit of his own lying about. A phone charger appeared underneath your pillow; loose change and a travel pack of alcoholic wipes showed up in your bathroom sink. Hello Kitty band-aids, a hair clip that looked like one of Rumi’s ears, deep-moisturising hand cream, a tiny lizard keychain with a white hamburglar mask drawn on. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. What could your stalker be trying to say besides he could access your personal space with ease? Hoarding it all in the drawer with the GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK hentai, you were struck with the notion that this may have been going on even before the video.

God, you missed when this school felt more like home instead of a holding cell, back when Shinsou and Uraraka and the rest were all still living together with you, when you could simply turn the corner to the common area to demand who took your laundry detergent and get an answer immediately (you also missed taking Aoyama’s bougie food, though you suspected that towards the end he was buying extra specifically for you). You sent an email to Aizawa about the potential break in security, and he promised to monitor the situation, though there was no evidence of physical entry.

Evidence. It’s been on your mind.

Sure, Tenko’s done stuff that could be read as romantic: how he plops your hand onto his head to demand you play with his hair, how he hovers whenever Touya stands too closely to you, how he gets upset on your behalf when people glare at you in public.

(Tenko grabbed your elbow, breaking your focus on the clothing rank. “We’re going.”

“But we haven’t found you a red coat yet.”

He lifted the hangers from your arm and slid them back onto the rack, despite belonging elsewhere. “Don’t care. I don’t like the way the cashier’s looking at you,” he said, jerking his head their direction, and when you tilted your head to glance at them over his shoulder, Tenko tapped your chin twice, guiding you to look back at him. “You shouldn’t have to be on guard when I’m with you.”)

If you were reading into it—and you were—Tenko was being so careful with talking about the pro-hero scene around you that it was almost as if he’d gotten a mission task from Aizawa to distract you from anything that might make you feel bad about yourself.

(“I hear you’re causing a lot of paperwork for my old man,” said Touya, pulling out another floor cushion from the storage space in the teahouse wall, “He hates that you’ve had to dust so many structures near his agency. He’s a decrepit creature of habit, and now that his commute is different, he’s—”

“Hey, Touya, tell us what flower bulbs you planted this winter,” Tenko said abruptly, clamping the lid on the pot hanging over the sunken fireplace, “Tell us what your garden’ll look like in spring.”

You shut your book, even though you’d just opened it. “Wait, are you saying that Touya is the one who keeps this garden? That’s—”

“You like it, sweetheart?” Touya dropped his cushion next to yours, ignoring the way Tenko was glaring daggers into his back. “Think it’s impressive?”

“Holy shit; I thought we were in the back of some professionally restored historical site the first time we came here,” you said, smiling at how Tenko’s petulant stomps to his seat chirruped, even when he scooted his own cushion towards yours (adorable; you’d think he didn’t like you giving attention to anyone else).

“Well,” said Touya, propping his hands on the kotatsu so that he could get a better view of Tenko, “With enormous pride and a huge erection, I’m pleased to announce that this garden is all my hard work.”

“Stop that,” barked Tenko, jabbing a finger towards Touya, “Stop bringing up your cock.”

“I could talk about yours, if you want. His monster cock is excruciatingly leaky and so shaped.”

Groaning, Tenko clonked his forehead on the kotatsu’s tabletop before Touya could say anything else, arm still outstretched. He peeked out from underneath his bangs towards you, tension leaving his body at your burst of laughter.)

He’s also taken your comment about silent admiration to heart. Over the discord call (through very comfortable headphones), you’d made a dumb joke about not being able to play for long, and he’d shut up immediately. When you’d confessed to lying and hoping you’d scared him, he’d replied seriously: “I want to protect my time with you. I don’t like it being taken away. I feel better when you’re with me.”

You’d frozen in the middle of weaving bowstrings while his character continued stringing them onto bows. You’d never have gotten that sort of remark at the beginning of your relationship. Tenko must genuinely be listening to you.

Anyway. You decided in the event that Tenko was collecting evidence, too, that you would leave him some.

The first time you’d been in his room had been for a specific purpose, which was to help him rub in his new facial scar moisturiser (not to take them away, or anything, because Tenko wanted to keep them, claiming he wouldn’t recognise himself in the mirror if he didn’t have his scars—and you thought they were devastatingly attractive, anyway—but just to keep them hydrated enough not to itch), but now you were here just to spend time in the same space. You were reading on his bed (oh, hohoho, his bed), and Tenko was drawing in his sketchbook on his couch by the window. With his mouth pinched in concentration, he squinted down at his paper, swiping away eraser shavings with his artist-gloved hand.

Drawing by natural light. Tenko was in room 310 because of its wide windows. It had been his one request when U.A. was placing him.

AFO had deliberately raised him in a bedroom without windows. You’d kill him if he weren’t already dead.

Thankfully, AFO’s influence was absent from Tenko’s dorm: Naruto sheets from Touya, an old Nintendo DS on his bedside table with Nintendogs in the cartridge slot, Present Mic’s skateboard propped against the coatrack that held only a black hoodie, unfolded but clean laundry in a basket next to a dresser with prescription bottles atop it, a mirror that served more as a bulletin board of Eraserhead merch than as a way to check his reflection, red shoes by the doorway, books borrowed from everyone from All Might to Shinsou to the ramen delivery guy strewn across the room, on shelves, his computer desk, his rug. The thing Tenko’d had to explain to you was a therapist-assigned painting hanging over his desk: he’d painted a murky, purple-blue, abstract sort of thing, and you were strangely touched when he’d explained it was Kurogiri (and now that you were looking, among his bulletin board of Eraserhead, a few drawings of Loud Cloud were mixed in).

There’s a lot of people in Tenko’s life who care about him now, and you’re happy to be one of them. Setting your book aside, you got up to sit next to him on the couch.

He paused when you sank into the cushion next to—well, no, you were basically sharing the same cushion, especially since he unfolded his legs from underneath him so that you could get closer. You scooted over so that your shoulders touched (scandalous) and looked over his drawings.

He’s drawing your DND characters. While his sketches aren’t exactly good, you can clearly tell who’s supposed to be whom, and they’re fun to look at, so that’s all that matters. At the centre is your character, Ginseng—you named it after your Cipherstone account because why not—in the process of spell-charging. Your character relies on the traditional ritual of tea ceremonies, from the growing of the tealeaves to serving it, summoning whatever tools you needed, like the table and dishware, and if an enemy got caught by the conventions of politeness of the tea ceremony, they were trapped in it until they’d drunk their teacup dry. Tenko had drawn her early in the spell-charging process, with branches of tealeaves sprouting from underneath her skin, with her harvesting them from her forearm. It’s rather flattering, the way her determined expression lit up her face.

Next to Ginseng was Tenko’s character, Peito, also lifted from his Cipherstone character. He was sitting on the same log as Ginseng in the middle of camp, backs touching while he cut feathers as the first step in the fletching process. His carved-willow quiver leant against his knee-high boot, red even in a fictional universe. Peito’s hands were bare, five fingers pressed against his knife and arrows.

Further back in the camp (really just towards the top of the paper, since Tenko wasn’t good at foreshortening yet), Midoriya’s character, Jackrabbit, was holding up two hangers, one with his steel and the other with sleek, black leather armour. A nice touch, really, since Midoriya had swopped Jackrabbit’s primary armour to the more lightweight leather since the shattered grove incident, and wow, you could even tell it was leather based on the pencil strokes.

Seated nearby, Touya’s character, Granddaddy Slapkins, roared with laughter at him. His shoes lay next to him, his hooves out. For some reason, he’s not holding his pet duck; he’s instead cradling what looks like your character’s wild shape, a cat with the same chocolate-point markings as your real cat (your character’s shapeshifted form was just Dango, but Tenko didn’t know that. He still didn’t know Dango existed, because cats were still illegal in the dorms, and Tenko, that little brown-nosing shit, would probably tell Aizawa about her. Cute how he’s only a suck-up to Aizawa, though).

Your favourite detail, though, was how his character was smiling. Unabashedly. As if it were a no-brainer, as if doing anything else made no sense at all.

With a stab of affection, you nuzzled into Tenko’s shoulder, resting your chin there while he sketched loops of chainmail onto Granddaddy Slapkins’s shirt, and a shiver racked through him.

“Oh, are you cold?” you asked, sitting back up and heading over towards the bed, “Let me get your blanket.”

“Wha—no, I—sure,” said Tenko, setting his pencil on his sketchbook and the whole thing on the arm of the couch, eyes half-lidded as you returned with his throw blanket.

And without thinking, you moved on impulse, as if all higher orders of cognition had checked out for the night, because you behaved like you did in your head whenever you thought about Tenko: casually, intimately, and domestically. You wrapped the blanket around yourself and knelt on the sofa before swinging a knee over his lap, and you snuggled into his chest, clutching his shirt and nosing at his neck.

Your eyes snapped open.

(What the fuck?

If this had been a planned attack, then it would’ve been a thing of brilliance: casual, seeming to meet a physical need [heating a chill] in the name of physical closeness. But you fucked it. This wasn’t planned, and thus you don’t have a way out of it without otherwise betraying your romantically-motivated interior.

Thank fuck he’s frozen up, too. But how do you get out of this? God, you really shouldn’t be teaching him how to navigate interpersonal relationships when you get yourself into shit like this.)

You swallowed thickly, pulse pounding in your ears.

“I need your advice.” Tenko’s chest barely rose when he took his first breath since you climbed onto his lap. “What would be the socially expected response to this?”

“Uh. That depends on if you’re into it or not,” you said, forcing yourself to sit back in his lap to give him some space, “If you dislike it, then it’s to get me to get off of you, and if you welcome it, then, uh. Anything else.”

Tenko unclenched his fists at his sides and—a pause, shifting his jaw—he let his hands rest at a barely-there touch on your hips, dragging them upwards to your waist, applying enough pressure there for you to feel all ten fingertips through your shirt. “Is this,” he said, wetting his lower lip, and he couldn’t continue, instead swallowing saliva.

Gathering your nerve, you wove your hand through his hair to scratch at his scalp in the way he’d liked when you’d played with his hair, and at the familiarity, Tenko huffed, shutting his eyes tightly and pressing his forehead to yours in a rush, almost knocking them together. He took another breath, heat washing over your face, and you slid your other up hand to cup his cheek.

Tenko shivered again, and he clamped his hand over yours to keep it there. “Are you sure this is what you mean to do?”

He seemed receptive enough to it, but you couldn’t be certain. “Yeah,” you said, “If I’m reading it right.”

“But it makes no sense. I’ve got to be reading it wrong,” Tenko was saying, frowning, “No one would willingly like me—”

“For fuck’s sake, Tenko—”

Practically slapping your other hand to his cheek, you kissed him, pulling him closer, one of his hands still over yours with the other now gripping your waist as if he’d never let you go. Tenko grunted into it, surging forward to keep his rough lips (sticky from his freshly applied pineapple-beeswax chapstick) seared to yours. You felt, more than heard, his miniscule whimper at the back of his throat when he opened his mouth, sliding his tongue into yours, and you could hardly keep kissing him for smiling. But he needed a breath before you did, so you broke it, sensing he wouldn’t do it out of wanting to keep you nearby.

Panting, Tenko tried and failed to push your hair behind your ear in an attempt to be suave. “Now, I perceived that as romantic.”

“It was romantic, you muppet,” you said, thumping his chest with the back of your hand.

“Good.” He cleared this throat. “Cool. Excellent,” he said, shifting underneath you (with difficulty, under the constricting denim of his Moulded to Your Ass jeans), “I want it to be, when it comes to you.”

“Thank God, I really want that, too,” you said, sighing, “but, like, I really don’t know if it’s ethical to pursue a romance this early into your recovery—”

“The fuck is wrong with you? I want it. I want you.” Frustrated, Tenko grabbed your hips in an iron grip and ground up into you, slowly, and that tight-ass denim let you feel precisely where in the drag of his hips his cock touched you, letting you feel the shift in pressure at his tip, down his shaft, to the first curve of his balls. “I thought I was alone. I thought no one else would ever be able to understand me, having fallen from what I was raised to be. Fallen,” he said, spitting, “Such a nasty word for what we’re actually doing: we’ve been reborn together. We get to build our lives back up together. We get another chance at it. I wanna spend mine with you.”

He strained his neck upwards to kiss you again, insistent, moving with confidence when he took your lower lip into his mouth but only nibbling on it once, despite being posed to bite down with vigour.

“I don’t give a rat’s ass about what anyone else thinks of you and what anyone else thinks of me. I—”

“That’s not true,” you said, your turn to catch your breath, “You care so much about what Aizawa-sensei—”

“You know what I mean,” he said, shaking his head, hair falling out of his loose ponytail, “You think of me as me, and that’s all that matters. If you’re really that fucking worried about me getting into a relationship too early, go talk to my therapist. She says you’re good for me. A good influence, anyway.”

“Holy shit,” you said, mostly in reaction to how Tenko started trailing frantic, dry kisses down your neck, and, realising you should probably be doing something back, you rolled your hips, feeling awfully warm under the blanket.

He bucked back up into you, more out of desperation to keep you close over a need for friction but still giving you a taste of what it would be like to have him thrusting into you. “Fuck,” he said, almost grumbling, “I’d say fuck being ethical about it, because I’ve wanted you for a long time. I got hard when you shook me by the shoulders outside of that ice cream shop; I thought my soul was gonna leave my body when you adjusted my scarf. Hell, I—” He cut himself off, grinning in a way that, back before you knew him, you might have described as maniacal. “I wanted you back during the war. I saw you fucking elbow Touya during that battle, and the way you made him crumple to the ground was so fucking sexy. And you recovered from when he swiped at you so easily; you slipped around his attacks like it was fucking second nature. I thought it’d be cool to have you by my side, having you—” He realised what he was saying, and he relaxed, smile fading into a curious, pensive sort of look while he brought his thumb to your kiss-swollen lips. “And now I get to.”

You kissed the pad of his thumb, blinking slowly.

“So. Yeah,” he said, dropping his hand to your shoulder as he broke eye contact, a little red, “I think it’d be cool to be with you, even if we have to be careful.”

“That’s the thing, Tenko,” you said, biting the inside of your cheek as you gathered your thoughts, “I’m scared, because while I know that we should, because that’d be safe, I don’t want to be careful. Since I’ve quit being a hero, every single thing about how I’ve been living has left me feeling empty and alone, because it’s like I’m wandering through limbo. Everything screams that whatever I’m doing now is temporary, that it’ll pass, that I don’t truly belong in this situation, because I’ll find what I’m supposed to be doing later and my real home is somewhere down the line, but—fuck.” You rubbed your eye with your fist. “You, Tenko. You don’t feel temporary. You feel forever.”

Underneath you, Tenko stretched to pop a crick in his back, and he tilted his head to lie on the back of the couch. His ponytail had come loose, and his hair splayed against the fabric as he stared at you, one hand idly rubbing at your waist.

“Well. You’ve got to belong somewhere,” he said eventually, and he tapped all five fingers onto your thigh. “It could be with me.”

***

Dango was missing.

Incredible how the best evening of your life preceded the worst day you’ve had in years. You called out of work and spent hours scouring the dorm and then campus. A gruelling, miserable sort of day, anyway, grey and rainy and cold, and the campus was swarmed with people setting up for the scavenger hunt event later this month, populating the area with non-U.A. personnel and construction. Your cat was out in that mess, and you didn’t even know where to search first. It’s loud, scary, and wet, so Dango would most likely be hiding and not come when she’s called.

Had Dango escaped your flat? Had your stalker stolen her? Had she been confiscated by U.A.?

You couldn’t call any faculty for help; they’d get onto you for having an illegal cat on campus—and Hound Dog, the one who’d be the most help, might just scare her to death. Too early in the morning to call any of your friends, and you doubted they’d alter their busy schedules to help you out of a situation you should be able to fix yourself. But damn it, how come your own tracking skills only worked on people?

You shook yourself, coming out of your spiral the best you could, and you were close to hyperventilating. You sat down on a curb.

You found yourself calling Tenko, despite it being too early in the day for him to be out of training, filling with dread about never seeing your cat again and having to clear out her stuff from your room. Pulling your soaked jacket closer, you wiped at your nose and waited at the dial tone.

“Hey, I thought you couldn’t call during work. Miss me that much?”

The second you heard his strangely chipper voice, you started crying into the speaker.

He inhaled sharply, tone shifting. “Tell me who the fuck I’m stomping to death with my hooves.”

Ducking your head, you managed a smile but continued to fucking sob. “You don’t—don’t have to kill anyone, Ten—Tenko. I’ve f—fucked up.”

“What’s wrong? Where are you?”

“I’m on cam—campus,” you said, unable to speak for a full sentence without having to cut yourself off to keep bawling, ugly and loud and getting snottier by the minute, “It’s my fucking fault that I haven’t been ta—taking my stupid sta—stalker seriously, and I should’ve reported it, but—but I—goddammit!” The rain picked up again, coming down in rapid, fat drops, and, shielding your eyes, you rubbed your phone screen on your sleeve, not that it did much. “Sor—sorry. Rain got heavier.”

“Where on campus?”

“No, Te—Tenko, I’ll get up. I’m coming to you,” you said, sniffling and pushing on your knees to stand, wet and hungry and ready to crawl into your sock drawer to sleep for days. “I—I’m just so fucking pissed at myself, because my cat is fucking lost, and I could’ve sto—stopped it if I hadn’t been so secreti—tive.” Hands shaking, you yanked your soaked hood over your head and trudged towards your dormitory, and you kicked gravel, rocks scattering over the path, before losing your footing on it and nearly falling. Fuck this.

“You have a cat,” said Tenko, losing his fervent. “What’s it look like?”

“Beautiful.”

“I need more than that.”

“She fucking—I based Ginseng’s cat form on her, okay? She’s this enormously fluffy thing, mostly whitish with a brown face and legs, and it makes her look like she’s wearing a mask and thigh-high socks like God’s sluttiest little jester,” you said, knocking on your dorm’s mailboxes for luck out of habit as you passed them, “And you can’t tell Aizawa-sensei about her, because if she’s taken away the moment I find her, then I—”

“I have her,” said Tenko, “She’s in my dorm with me.”

You ran the rest of the way to his room, panting and absolutely disgusting by the time you got there, and when Tenko opened his door, there was Dango, loafing on the back of the couch and watching raindrops race down the window.

“What the fuck,” you said, dropping your wet coat and toeing off your shoes, “How the hell did she get in here?”

Tenko shrugged and hung your coat next to his hoodie. “Can she open locked doors?”

“I hope to fuck she can’t,” you said, and you rounded the couch to wrap your arms around that dear little loaf, and Dango jumped off the couch to crawl underneath it before you could fully hug her. “Oh, good. She’s fine. Acting like normal.” You sat on the couch’s arm, adrenaline evaporating to render you boneless.

“She was in my room when I came back from training. We ended early today, since Aizawa-sensei has something.” Tenko stooped to yank two bottles of gatorade from their plastic rings and headed towards the sofa to offer one to you. “She didn’t seem upset or hurt. She’s been sitting there, napping on and off.”

You accepted it and twisted off the cap. “So, who put my cat in your room?”

“Why would anyone do that?”

“I don’t know,” you said, taking a shallow sip, careful not to overwhelm your agitated stomach, “They’d have to know about Dango in the first place, and I suppose my stalker would, since they’ve theoretically been breaking into my room.”

Tenko paused mid-sip, and he hastened to swallow. “Someone’s been breaking into your room?”

“Yeah,” you said, easing down the arm of the couch and onto its cushions, “I think. There’s no physical sign of entry, but my shit keeps going missing, and stuff that’s not mine keeps showing up. Let me tell you, I need some of that shit they’ve stolen; it’s hard to replace—”

Tenko touched your lips with three of his fingertips to quiet you, and he gestured for you to stay put while he scrambled over to his closet, where he stood on his toes to retrieve a wicker basket from the top shelf. He dropped the thing into your lap. “Are any of these yours?”

All of it was, missing things you blamed on everything from Dango to your stalker to your own forgetfulness: your favourite sweater, your trolley pass, lip balm, your shitty earbuds, your good pantyhose, your planner, your d10, and, among many smaller things, even that bright blue thong you’d lost in the wash (Well. It’s better to find your thong with your new boyfriend over finding them returned to your dorm coated in your stalker’s cum, you supposed).

“I was losing my goddamn mind,” Tenko was saying, “Stuff kept showing up. I thought it was a test at first—”

“I don’t have a stalker,” you said, absentmindedly rubbing the fabric of your thong between your fingers, “Your shit has been—you read that GINSENG TEA X LUSTFUL BALLSACK shit? Tenko.”

“Oh, you have that?” Tenko scratched the back of his neck, but not in his self-harm way; it reminded you of Shinsou’s nervous habit more than anything. “Haven’t you read it? Isn’t that what you were naming your characters after?”

“Ah, ha, ha. Moving on. What is important, though, is why and how this is happening to us.”

“Yeah, I don’t…”

The two of you spitballed for a while, long enough for the both of you to finish your bottles of gatorade and for Tenko to start another, and neither of you came up with anything substantial.

“Hell with it,” said Tenko, standing to stretch, his movement disturbing Dango from her nap in his basket of clean laundry, “Let’s go ask Aizawa-sensei.”

Aizawa was not pleased when he discovered the both of you waiting in his kitchen, but he listened to the story, and when you were done, he stepped out of the room to make a phone call. When he came back, he looked even more exhausted than when he’d first come in.

“I’ve just gotten off the phone with Sakura Grove,” said Aizawa, wincing when his bones creaked as he sat in his chair, “Tenko, do you remember villain in-fighting within the PLF? In particular, I’m asking if you remember breathing in a pink dust cloud. It would’ve been in Deika City, in the month between your fight with Re-Destro and your body modification surgery. If our sources are accurate, you would’ve been with Touya.”

Tenko scrunched up his face. “Why would I have been—hm.” Frowning, he reached into the bag of popcorn you’d commandeered from Aizawa’s cupboards. “I know what you’re talking about. They were only letting me eat healthy stuff in the week before I went under. Touya was taking me to scrounge for something salty and shitty for me, because I couldn’t take it anymore. He started hitting on someone he thought was a waitress, and she—this is why I remember it—she compared the width of her hand to his thigh and said no thanks.”

“That’s Ito,” said Aizawa, sighing and crossing his arms, settling his chin into his capture weapon, “When did she use her quirk?”

“She shoved her hand on Touya’s face when he opened his stupid mouth again, and he passed out with swarming, pink particles floating around his head. She turned to me—and she must not have recognised Touya, but she knew me, because her face lit the fuck up. She never touched me, but I remember having to sneeze.”

“She never told you what her quirk did?”

“I woke back up in the PLF headquarters. I assumed whoever picked me up had killed her and that her death negated any effects.” He narrowed his eyes. “Why? What does it do?”

Aizawa let out a soft laugh, muffled through his capture weapon, and he jerked his head in your direction. “You tell him,” he said, snatching the bag of popcorn and heading towards his bedroom.

***

He’d been nervous about wearing a suit. They reminded him of AFO.

But you’d strayed away from dark colours and too much structure, so his light greyish-blue suit jacket stayed unbuttoned even as you leant across to the passenger seat to adjust his All Might tie for him (a Put Your Hands Up Radio tie had been offered, but Tenko had already closed his fist around the striped tie Midoriya would loan him). Part of his bangs had been pinned back to show off his annoyingly handsome face, especially in how his sharp, red eyes observed caught every movement of your terrible attempt to tie the tie based on the pictures Aizawa had sent you.

“We’re not gonna be late, are we?” Tenko drawled out, the corner of his mouth quirking upward, hand resting on the car ceiling as he angled his chest towards you.

“Shush; we are in the parking lot,” you said, looping the larger end. Or were you supposed to be looping the smaller one? “Besides, the world won’t end if we’re a few minutes late to my class’s annual reunion.”

A flimsy excuse for a party, one made because hero agencies needed some sort of named event as an excuse to dismiss your friends en masse. But it was spring again, and they were coming out of the winter blues, and they wanted to see you again, so, hey, why don’t we work something in around your schedule? If you can’t come to this date, then we’ll reschedule it until you can.

And, like. They knew. They knew Tenko was your soulmate. You suspected they all wanted to see what he was like now, too, because no one but Shinsou, Midoriya, and, apparently, Bakugou had known.

You undid the loose knot and tried again. “Are you nervous?”

“No,” he said, scrutinising the tacky balloons and streamers swaying in the night breeze outside of the otherwise intimidatingly elegant venue, “but those kids might be.”

“Those kids happen to be friends my age,” you said, “and I’m barely younger than you are. They know you’re coming. You’re fine.”

Tenko sucked in through his teeth, tapping the roof of the car one finger at a time. “The last time they saw me was as a thing. An object of destruction.”

“Well, they’ll definitely see you as a human person when I spill how you designed a unicorn DND character for Eri.” You pulled the fabric taut but kept it from lying closely to his neck (a boy didn’t like feeling constrained). “You know what? This tie is as good as it’s gonna get.”

He ducked his chin to examine its knot. “It’s shit.”

“It adds to your devil-may-care, reformed-bad-boy sort of charm,” you said, giving the tie a final smooth-down and poorly suppressing your smile when you felt his muscles through his shirt. “Mathematically, there are only 85 ways to tie a standard tie knot. I don’t believe we’ve reached any of them.”

“How do you know these things? You’re unbeliev—” Tenko jerked his face out of view of the window as Aoyama and Kouda, gesturing wildly, strode past the car and into the venue. “Listen,” he said, clearing his throat, “I know I don’t care and that you don’t care, but other people will. Your reputation is gonna plummet right into its grave if we’re out in the open together.”

You shook your head, letting your smile show. “So, I fucked part of a rescue job almost a year ago. So what. So I’m dating my soulmate. Am I supposed to do otherwise? Honestly, Tenko,” you said, curling loose strands of hair behind his ear, letting your fingers linger around his cheek and neck (he leant into the touch), “I don’t care. I would’ve chosen you even without the soulmate bond. You’re too endearing to pass by. You’re too…babygirl.”

Tenko had been guiding your hand to his mouth, and he snorted before it got there, warm air scattering in a short burst. “Don’t call me that,” he said, pressing his lips to the centre of your palm and waiting until you met his gaze to retract them.

A different warmth shot to your lower stomach, but you had to keep pressing, for the sake of the bit. “Oh, then what should I���darling? Honey? Pookie bear?”

He scoffed and nipped at your pinkie. “None of those are good.”

“Tenko.”

He breathed in, shoulders rising, eyes fluttering shut. Taking a moment to kiss the tiny bite mark on your finger. “Yeah,” he said, opening his eyes in a slow blink, catlike, “Feels good. Feels—like coming home.”

Beaming, you reached down to lace his fingers through yours. All five of them squeezed back. “Then let’s go.”

soulmate trope taglist: @bakugouspsycho, @pansexualproblemchild, @doonaandpjs, @sunsetevergreen, @the-coffee-is-on-fire, @liberace2, @ladymidnight77, @nonomesupposedto, @gooooomz, @kissmebakugou, @pachiibatt, @celestair, @tiredkittykat, @cheshireshiya, @90s-belladonna, @infjsnightmare

[wheelsgoroundincircles]

1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1

World's Only 1969 Ford Mustang Mach 1 390 With a Factory Sunroof Comes out of Hiding

Introduced for the 1969 model year, the Mach 1 was one of no fewer than six performance Mustangs available at the time. Sold alongside the GT, the Boss 429 and 302, and a pair of Shelby models, the Mach 1 became hugely popular. Specifically, Ford sold a whopping 72,458 units, almost a quarter of all Mustang production that year.

What made the Mach 1 such a big hit? Well, for starters, the package included more goodies than the GT. It came with a matte black hood with racing-style pins, a scoop, a unique stripe package, and an upgraded suspension. And unlike the Boss and Shelby models, it wasn't restricted to a specific engine.

Ford offered a more affordable version equipped with the two-barrel 351-cubic-inch (5.8-liter) Windsor V8. Customers who wanted more than 250 horsepower had access to the four-barrel variant, which delivered 290 horses. The options list also included the FE-type 390-cubic-inch (6.4-liter) unit good for 320 horsepower.

But unlike the GT, the Mach 1 was also available with the mighty 428-cubic-inch (7.0-liter) Cobra Jet V8. Offered in both Ram Air and non-Ram setups (Q- or R-code), the Cobra Jet mill generated 335 horsepower. While not quite as potent as the NASCAR-spec V8 in the Boss 429, it was the most potent mill customers had access to in the regular-production 'Stang.

High sales numbers also mean that first-year Mach 1 is quite the common classic nowadays. Sure, the Cobra Jet version is rarer at around 13,000 units, but it's a model you won't have issues finding. And it's not awfully expensive either.

That's not to say that some Mach 1s aren't very rare or unique. But that depends on features and the color combo. Sometimes, it takes a tiny item like air conditioning combined with an unlikely exterior/upholstery color match-up to turn a Mach 1 into a rare gem. This 1969 example in Gulfstream Aqua blue is a tad different because it flexes an option you won't find on any other Mach 1.

You won't notice it at first glance, but look closer, and you'll eventually see that this Mustang rocks a sunroof. Wait, what? A first-generation Mustang with a sunroof? You bet that's a weird feature because Ford did not offer such an option on the Mustang at the time. But a sunroof was available on the Mercury Cougar, and apparently, someone convinced Ford to put it on a Mach 1.

That someone is none other than Carroll Shelby, the man responsible for the cool GT350 and GT500 that turned the first-gen Mustang into a proper muscle car. And the story goes it's one of only two 1969 Mach 1s with a factory sunroof, so it's pretty much a one-of-one if we also factor in the options and the paint.

So what is the story behind this 'Stang? Did Carroll order it for his personal collection? Well, not exactly. Apparently, the car was specified for a doctor who took care of Shelby's mother. He asked if there was anything he could do for him in return, and the doctor requested a Mach 1 with a sunroof. Still working with Ford at the time, Carroll made some calls and turned the doctor's request into reality.

More than 50 years later, this unique Mach 1 is still around. And based on the way it looks, it went through a rotisserie restoration. It's spotless from every angle, and the Gulfstream Aqua color shines better than when this muscle car was new.

The blacked-out hood hides a 390 FE V8, so this Mustang wouldn't normally be as desirable and valuable as a Cobra Jet. However, that factory sunroof gives one-of-one status and puts it into six-figure territory. Hit the play button below to watch it sitting pretty at the MCACN show.

[landscapeexposurenetwork]

Thank you again for another great year allowing us to share original photographers with you. We will be taking a break and return January 13th. In the meantime we have set up a queue filled with photos from our past featured blogs this year. If you are looking for new blogs to follow, please have a look at the list below. We have listed a general description of the types of photos each blog posts, so it will be easier for you to find the ones you like. And of course applications are still open during our break. Hope to see you all again in 2025. Happy holidays and much love from all of us at LEN.

January 390 @longingforrotkehlchen (animals) 391 @annajewelsphotography (landscape, travel) 392 @charmed-n-zesty (landscape, forests) 393 @thiswillnotdo (landscape, travel)

February 394 @kimlion1313 (landscape, animals) 395 @nonotnow-photography (landscape, flowers, animals) 396 @malioli (landscape, animals) 397 @in-a-day (landscape)

March 398 @sahorocoopr (landscape) 399 @rafefar (animals, landscape) 400 @robertocastigliaphotography (architecture, flowers, animals) 401 @fromerofoto (animals)

April 402 @destroyedchild (landscape, forests) 403 @stargoose-photo (landscape, architecture) 404 @moncoeurestatoimonamour (landscape) 405 @blooming-lenses (flowers) 406 @novaeangliaphotography (landscape, flowers)

May 407 @chikurevo (animals, landscape, flowers) 408 @steven-sandner (landscape) 409 @otus-scops (animals) 410 @mostlybirdsandphotos (animals)

June 411 @francescointoppa (flowers, landscape) 412 @reyolivier (landscape, travel, animals) 413 @ifwhitedays (flowers) 414 @axololtls (forest, animals, flowers)

July 415 @jarredspec (landscape, animals) 416 @kas-e (landscape, travel) 417 @boy-warbler (animals) 418 @jacobgraphy (flowers, landscape, animals) 419 @branchflowerphoto (flowers)

August 420 @seagirl49 (landscape) 421 @jvstinderosa (landscape) 422 @wildsideoflifeencounters (animals) 423 @richs-pics (landscape, animals)

September 424 @fatchance (landscape, animals, flowers) 425 @pnwander (landscape, animals) 426 @amomentofnature (landscape) 427 @tomorrowcatistoolate (landscape, flowers, animals) 428 @connorphilpphotography (landscape)

October 429 @the-ravens-song-photography (landscape) 430 @theslowtravel (landscape, travel) 431 @vanwinkle11 (landscape) 432 @birdphotos (animals)

November 433 @adventurealldays (landscape) 434 @visionsofnightfall (landscape, forests) 435 @yoshitaka-koga (animals) 436 @marieviot (landscape)

December 437 @bobcronkphotography (landscape, travel) 438 @orrinivalis (landscape) 439 @atlasandacamera (travel)

2023 Featured Blogs | 2022 Featured Blogs | 2021 Featured Blogs  2020 Featured Blogs | 2019 Featured Blogs | 2018 Featured Blogs 2017 Featured Blogs | 2016 Featured Blogs

[miss-conjayniality]

MY GODDESS.

genre: fluff, HEAVY angst (short drabble)

pairing: south asian sapphic fem!reader x saebyeok x semi

word count: 390

warnings: mentions of death, grief

A/N: yeah so uhh…..i may or may not have cut some onions while writing this……🫣 i also intended for this to be VERY short and brief. but then my brain went “let’s turn this hwang donghyuk thriller into a sanjay leela bhansali tragedy!!!!🤪🫰🏼”

np: maula mere maula by roop kumar rathod

i don’t know how many desi sapphics lurk around this fandom. but to those who are, all i must say is that semi and saebyeok are most certainly the “maula mere maula” type of beauties.

otherworldly. ethereal. dreamy. hypnotic. alluring beauties who leave you in awe. the magical presence of both captivates people to the point where we get lost in the depths of their souls. with just a drop of melancholy.

both women are the kind of lovers who’d give you goddess treatment. they would anything they can to shower you with that prize money. despite their setbacks, they dream of coming back alive. to you. they put their lives on the line so that one day, they’ll be able to lavish you with everything you could possibly ever dream of.

yet there it all goes. the tragedy. the despair. the grief. the moment you find out about their passings, you crumble. this can’t be real, you think. they sacrificed their lives for you. you wish you could just live a peaceful, prosperous life with your beloved. one where love and wealth are synonymous. one mustn’t have to suffer for love like this.

the level of respect you harbor for them is the size of the universe. if not, more than that. they did well. they did the best they could just for you. even though they’re both gone from this earth, their spirits still remain omnipresent around you — the sweaters they left behind for you whenever you’re feeling cold, the family heirlooms they gifted to you, the leftover clip-on nose and lip piercings. and so much more.

everyday, you wear one of semi’s naths as your homage to her. her collection of naths is precious to you because it was symbolized her courage to be her true self amidst societal pressures to conform. additionally, you always keep at least one of saebyeok’s switchblades in your purse and pocket because it serves as a powerful allegory to life — to fight for yourself and your loved ones. to keep that fiery, huntress spirit no matter what life throws at you. to remind yourself of what it takes to persevere through any challenge.

despite the tragic deaths of your lovers, you’ll forever be grateful for all they’ve done for you. amidst this turbulent world, they are a beacon of light.

[romanticandupsetting]

UNDER YOUR SKIN ^.^

kise ryota x gn!reader

in which your cute boyfriend does his skin care routine while you watch him lovingly, the same way you did when he first introduced you to his little routine.

tags: fluff, short fic, high school timeline, kise is a bubbly boy while reader has kind of a cool persona, this is so sweet the ants migrated, no beta im doing my skincare as i write

words: 390

you with your lovesick grin, all tucked on a fluffy stool chair watching your boyfriend put stuff on his face while wearing a bunny headband.

it was surprising the first time you discovered how deep into skin care kise ryota was but considering his successful career as a model, you felt a little dumb for not expecting that.

every now and then, he would even go home carrying a cute tote bag full of skin care products he got for free.

"you having a sugar baby side hustle i didn't know about??" you peer at him happily unpacking his little bag.

he huffs. "mean! i was at a modeling gig and they gave me stuff!!" you open your mouth to retort but he's faster. "and before you say 'so they think you're ugly?' just so you know, they want me to be their next model! isn't that so cool, y/n-chin?!"

he looks at you with those sparkles in his eyes.

you give him a lopsided grin. "that's great, baby," you compliment as you kiss him on the cheek. "so tell me about this little haul."

he smiles even wider, happy that you're interested. ryota starts explaining them one by one and some confuse you because you don't know if he uses those products everyday and it feels like it will take him an hour and—did he just say that that face mask take five hours to use?!

"actually..." you know that look. he wants something. "i think it'd be super nice if we could share! not that your skin is bad or anything, y/n-chin but i just think it'd be fun... if you wanna be into this kinda stuff..."

you look at him softly, admiring how bashful he looks as if you haven't been dating for 6 months.

"i'd love to, ryo."

"y/n-chin, come on. let's rinse your face now!"

a year later, with the same smiles on both your faces, you walk up to him.

"coming~"

your feet slowly lead you towards him. he steps aside to give you some room to wash your face, watching your reflection in the mirror.

"if i was a worm, i'd wanna be the type that lives under your skin. then i can feel how smooth your face is all the time."

he shudders. "don't be creepy, y/n-chin."

[cosmic-daydreamz02]

Ideal Partner

Placements to look at for traits of your ideal partner:

7th house sign and planets: House of marriage and partnership

7th house ruler (sign and house placement + planets in conjunction with 7th house ruler)

Venus and Mars sign and house placement: Venus is what you value in relationships and how you attract people Mars is what you are attracted to in a partner (Venus represents the wife in a man's chart)

Jupiter (for husband specifically): Jupiter is traditionally thought to represent the husband because it represents wisdom and growth.

Asteroids:

Juno(3): represents what you stay committed to/the type of person you will marry

Eros(433) and Psyche(16): Eros represents physical passion and Psyche represents emotional and mental intimacy (kind of a deeper look at venus and Mars dynamic)

Alma(390): soulmate connections

Vesta(4): devotion, dedication, and sacred sexuality (pretty much like Juno, what you will stay devoted to)

Amor(1221): unconditional love (where and how you can experience love without expectations)

Groom(5129): describes key qualities of husband

Boda(1457): represents marriage (this can describe the kind of wedding you will have too)

Briede(19029): qualities of wife

BONUS: look at degrees and signs associated for more in-depth analysis

Example:

I have moon at 26° in Virgo 7th house and its ruler is Mercury at 14° Aquarius in the 12th house; 26° and 14° are both ruled by Taurus. So, I would look at Virgo, Aquarius, 12th house, and Taurus traits to describe my partner.

7th house/ruler/relationship planets and asteroids in signs/degrees

Aries (1°, 13°, 25°):

Ruled by: Mars

Personality: Partner is bold, direct, and passionate. They may be very independent and prefer to be the leader in your relationship. They love always having excitement and mew experiences with you.

Appearance: athletic and energetic, strong and angular features, confident energy, very simple/unfussy but bold style or athletic wear

Taurus (2°, 14°, 26°):

Ruled by: Venus

Personality: Loyal and stubborn, patient and stable. Could take a long time for them to get in a relationship, but once they're in they're staying. They seek comfort and security in their relationships and may take a practical approach to love.

Appearance: Strong, sturdy build, well-groomed and stylish but not flashy, strong but soft features

Gemini (3°, 15°, 27°):

Ruled by: Mercury

Personality: Curious and communicative, need intellectual stimulation in the relationship, it can be hard to keep them interested because they seek variety, they value mental connection more that intense emotions

Appearance: youthful and energetic appearance, very expressive eyes and they probably talk with their hands a lot, very trendy and playful style, nervous energy

Cancer (4°, 16°, 28°):

Ruled by: Moon

Personality: Nurturing, caring, and very sensitive partner. Very protective and loving relationship. They seek emotional connection and security.

Appearance: soft and rounded features, comforting energy, expressive eyes.

Leo (5°, 17°, 29°):

Ruled by: Sun

Personality: Confident, generous, warm-hearted. They will shower you with affection but expect the same in return. Also very loyal.

Appearance: Bold features, very thick hair, confident aura, center of attention, bold style

Virgo (6°, 18°):

Ruled by: Mercury

Personality: Practical, attentive, detail oriented. Acts of service is their love language. They value reliability and thoughtfulness in the relationship

Appearance: very neat and polished, refined and sharp features, could be thin, Modest and simple style, nervous energy

Libra (7°, 19°):

Ruled by: Venus

Personality: Romantic, charming, diplomatic. They're all about balance and fairness in the relationship. They will go out of their way to keep the relationship in harmony

Appearance: symmetrical features with a graceful aura, known for their charm and elegant look

Scorpio (8°, 20°):

Ruled by: Mars (traditional)/ Pluto (modern)

Personality: Very intense, passionate, and loyal They seek emotional depth and want a transformational relationship

Appearance: Magnetic aura, dark features, intimidating energy, they could have a dark style or they could have a pretty simple style it's just their energy that is very intense and noticeable

Sagittarius (9°, 21°):

Ruled by: Jupiter

Personality: Optimism, adventure, freedom loving. They seek fun and growth and value their independence in relationships. They need someone who supports their love for exploration

Appearance: Lively energy, athletic build, care-free attitude and free-spirited travel

Capricorn (10°, 22°):

Ruled by: Saturn

Personality: Disciplined and responsible. They value commitment and long-term stability. Like taurus, they could take a long time to actually get in the relationship because they have to know if it's worth their time first, they want a partner they can build with

Appearance: dry and very bony appearance, can look older than they are, tall and thin,classic and polished style, intimidating energy

Aquarius (11°, 23°):

Ruled by: Saturn (traditional), Uranus (modern)

Personality: independent, intellectual, unconventional. They value freedom and personal space in their relationships. They want a partner to share their ideas with

Appearance: Unique appearance, their style is usually not that "out there" imo they wear clothes that are useful, I actually see them dressing more rugged and utilitarian style

Pisces (12°, 24°):

Ruled by: Jupiter (traditional), Neptune (modern)

Personality: Empathetic, dreamy, romantic. Seeking deep emotional and spiritual connection, they show a lot of compassion and sensitivity in the relationship

Appearance: Their eyes stand out, soft and dreamy features, gentle presence, whimsical and romantic style

7th house ruler/relationship planets and asteroids in the houses

1st: the relationship directly affects your identity and how you present yourself to the world. Your partner will be similar to you in personality or appearance or they will help you express yourself. Relationships are an integral part of your identity

2nd: Your relationship may directly affect your personal finances (this and 8th house could mean marrying rich). Your partner will stabilize or grow your financial situation or they could have similar values to you around security and resources. Or they could just boost your self-esteem and self-worth. Your partner will see your value and admire you greatly

3rd: communication and intellectual stimulation are very important in your connection. Your partner could have similar interests as you and stimulate your mind. You may enjoy a lot of walks together or short road trips. Siblings or neighbors could play a role in introducing you or they could be your neighbor or old schoolmate

4th: There will be a lot of emotional closeness and security in your relationship. Partnership could be influenced by your family background or partner's family. Emphasis on creating a stable home

5th: Romance, creativity, and sex are very important to keep your relationship going. Your partner will encourage your creative self expression and bring fun and excitement into your life. You relationship may also revolve around children. Your ideal partner should be very spontaneous and passionate

6th: Your relationship will involve work, daily routine, and service. You could meet your partner at your place of work or somewhere you routinely visit. Your relationship requires a lot of time and dedication to work. Your partner will feel like they have a responsibility to serve you.

7th: partnership is central to your life. You have a strong desire for for partnership. Your partner will have a strong sense of fulfillment through your relationship. (Kind of opposite of 1st house, you would be the one affecting their identity) You and your partner will have an intense focus on balance and equality in your partnership

8th: Deep emotional transformation and shared resources. (Could come into wealth through your partners) The connection should be very vulnerable and intimate. There's a focus on finances shared with your partner.

9th: Partner could be from a different culture than you. They could change your philosophies on life or world views. You could meet through travel or higher education. Your ideal partner challenges your beliefs and inspires personal growth.

10th: Your partner should transform your reputation. They should help you in your professional life or public appearance in some way.

11th: They should influence your social circles. They may introduce you to new groups of people or they will become a key part in your friend groups. You could meet them through your friends or they could have been your friend first. You may do humanitarian work together.

12th: Karmic or spiritual lesson in your relationship. Secrecy or hidden matters. Your ideal partner would help you face your subconscious and work through hidden fears. Your partner has to have a spiritual connection with you. There may be challenges or blocks in the relationship if you and your partner don't work through your subconscious patterns

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Hello OP! Hope u don’t mind this request for the demon bros

So just earlier i saw the “raising a pet together” game on tiktok, and i was on a freenzy, IT’S JUST TOO CUTE 🥹 and i’m too single to have anybody to do it with me lol.

What would be their reaction when the MC got them to downloaded the app and raise the virtual pet together?

COMMENTS: Well, I didn't know about this game, so I asked Gemini (Bard) about it to find out a little more about this type of game. Long story short: I told some of my friends about this game and now we are taking care of a virtual kitten together 😊 Thank you so much for the request 😉

What I wrote is based on my little experience playing the game called Pokipet. I hope you and all enjoy 🐶🐱

CHARACTERS: Demon Brothers (Lucifer; Mammon; Leviathan; Satan; Asmodeus; Beelzebub & Belphegor)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Bullet Points

WORD COUNT: An average of 390 words per character.

CONTEXT - According to Gemini (formerly "Bard"): The "Raising a Pet Together" game is a concept where you and someone else, like a friend, family member, or significant other, work together to raise a virtual pet.

The core idea is to work together to raise a virtual pet, which can be a fun way to: Simulate pet ownership and its responsibilities. Test your teamwork and communication skills. Have a cute and engaging way to interact with someone else.

“Why would we take care of a virtual pet together if we can already do it with Cerberus?” He will ask you.

Well, maybe you just want to try it out and see how it goes.

“Of course everything would be fine. The two of us would be its caretakers. How could anything go if not perfectly?” he sighs and chuckles “Fine. If you really want to do this, then I can accommodate your whims.”

According to Lucifer's traditional Devildom profile, when asked "Cats or Dogs" he answers "Cerberus". So he would choose to take care of a dog and name it Cerberus.

Whenever you open the app to take care of the little virtual Cerberus, Lucifer has already taken care of everything. Feed it? He already did. Give it a bath? He already did it. Pet it? The happiness bar is already maxed out, but you can still do it.

You would probably do more of the decorating of the room and give it clothes and accessories. He'll probably be stupidly good at the minigames and earn a lot of money so you can spend it freely on those things.

Whenever he has a lot of work and opens the app as if it were another of his responsibilities and sees that the virtual Cerebrus is fed and well taken care of by you, he will smile in relief. It's so wonderful to have another person he can rely on and share responsibilities with. You're so good at taking the weight off his shoulders and making him feel at ease.

He will definitely try to use this game to convince you to take care of the real Cerebrus with him instead of a virtual pet.

If the app has a chat and, at night, you both open the app at the same time to put your pet to bed:

Lucifer: Good evening (Y/N)

Lucifer: Are you here to put Cerberus to bed too?

Lucifer: What a pleasant coincidence.

The two of you cuddle your pet until it falls asleep.

Lucifer: Now, you should go to sleep too.

Lucifer: The same applies to me.

Lucifer: But now I want to fall asleep with you by my side.

Lucifer: Come to my room.

Lucifer: I can cuddle you until you fall asleep too.

Lucifer: If what you want is to sleep, of course.

“Raising a pet together?! Do you think I have money to support a pet? I can barely stay out of debt!” Mammon panics and speaks as if you were talking about a child.

But then you explain that it's a virtual pet, on your D.D.D.s.

“Oh...” He blushes a lot. “W-why didn't you say that from the beginning, you dummy?” He thinks for a second and then smiles widely. “Well, if it's free, I guess we can try it.”

According to Mammon's traditional Devildom profile, when asked "Cats or Dogs"  he answers "Cats". If you were surprised, so was I. For a name? Maybe Goldie, like his credit card. A yellow kitten named Goldie.

He'll blush a little when he thinks that you're taking care of a pet together, like a real close couple.

You are the one who will take care of Goldie the most. Giving it food and bath. And there will be many times when you almost don't have the money for it because Mammon will spend it all on toys, clothes and decoration. Even though it's a virtual pet, he will spoil it.

In terms of the pet's needs, he will probably just play with it. And give it treats. He will try to do the minigames to earn more money, but regardless of whether he is good at these minigames or not, he will continue to spend more money than he can earn.

But despite everything, he will try to be as helpful as possible and genuinely try to take care of Goldie so you don't have to do all the work. Sometimes he will even surprise you by taking really ood care of it.

If the app has a chat and, at night, you both open the app at the same time to put your pet to bed:

Mammoney: Oi! What are ya doin' here?

Mammoney: Oh. Ya here to put Goldie to bed too?

Mammoney: Ok. You can do it tonight

You cuddle your pet until it falls asleep.

Mammoney: Aww look at our baby~

Mammoney: PET! I MEAN PET!

Mammoney: hey... if you're still not sleepy either

Mammoney: why don't ya come to my room?

Mammoney: I always feel more relaxed with you by my side

Mammoney: Maybe we can help each other sleep?

Mammoney: Or... do something else if ya want...

“A VIRTUAL PET TO TAKE CARE OF TOGETHER?!?!” Levi is overjoyed with the idea! His eyes were sparkling! You don't need to say anything else, he's already downloading the app. Could this be a test to find out if you would be good parents to a real pet? Or maybe... No! NO LEVI! TOO EARLY!! One step at a time.

According to Levi's traditional Devildom profile, when asked "Cats or Dogs"  he answers "Henry". But since he could only choose between dog and cat, he would probably choose dog, because cats are known to eat fish.

For a name? “Maybe Henry 3.0?” He starts to suggest “Hum... no... Ah! Can I try something?” he writes a name that is accepted and shows it to you so you can confirm or deny the suggestion, with his cheeks slightly flushed. Henry <3 When he sees you smile in confirmation, his smile and enthusiasm only increase.

He's a dedicated gamer, so you don't have to worry about anything at all! He will get so many coins that you will practically be rich in that game. And he will buy everything. EVERYTHING! Decoration, food, toys, clothes, accessories, literally everything that is possible to buy in the game. And you can do whatever you want.

If you show that you would like to contribute more to your pet's care, he will apologize and promise to play less so you can have the opportunity to take care of Henry <3 too. But of course he will continue to open the app almost constantly, even if it's just to see you taking care of Henry <3.

Don't be surprised if he one day shows up with a Henry <3 plush so that the two of you can cuddle your baby whenever you want.

If the app has a chat and, at night, you both open the app at the same time to put your pet to bed:

L3V1: HEYYYYY ^.^

L3V1: Are you here to put Henry <3 to bed too?

L3V1: Let’s do it together!

The two of you cuddle your pet until it falls asleep.

L3V1: Hey... um... are you sleepy?

L3V1: The thing is I'm not sleepy yet

L3V1: Actually I'm now wide awake

L3V1: Could you keep me company for a little while?

L3V1: You know, I always feel sleepier when I'm with you

L3V1: I feel safe and calm

L3V1: If by chance you also feel this way about me

L3V1: Would you like to keep each other company in my room?

L3V1: But it could also be in yours

L3V1: Or not. It's okay if you don't want to

Take care of a virtual pet together? Where one of the options is a cat? Sign him up! And since he can't have a real pet cat, this is the best thing you could have propose to him! (*cough* besides marriage *cough*)

We don't even need the Devildom profile for this one, do we?

For a name? Probably the name of one of his favorite writers. Or... how about the name of one of your (you two) favorite writers? Christopher from Christopher Peugeot ;)

He's not that much into games, but since we're talking about taking care of a kitten, he can reach your level of experience. Or at least he will try. And to do this, he will do two things: 1st - Ask you for help. Which will make you two learn together how the game works. And 2nd - Do a lot of research on the internet about the best ways to play and the best strategies to get lots of coins so that your cat doesn't lack any care.

That game will be one of the main apps on his D.D.D. In addition to apps about books and the chat where he talks to you and the others.

Maybe he'll even find a way to change the background on his phone to a screen shot of your virtual pet.

If the app has a chat and, at night, you both open the app at the same time to put your pet to bed:

stn: Hello.

stn: I see you're here to put Christopher to bed as well.

stn: Why don't we do the honors together?

The two of you cuddle your pet until it falls asleep.

stn: Now we both should go to sleep too.

stn: If you are having trouble falling asleep, you can come to my room.

stn: I will be happy to read with you until you fall asleep.

stn: Your company will also help me rest.

stn: So feel free to come see me.

“Take care of a virtual pet together? That sounds so cute! Oh, but it's not as demanding as taking care of a real pet, is it? I'm not ready for that kind of commitment. I still need my ME time.~”

According to Asmo's traditional Devildom profile, when asked "Cats or Dogs" he answers "Me <3". But you need to choose between a dog and a cat. So you suggest a cat.In real life, cats are generally not as dependent as dogs. And, lets say that they are more likely to take "beauty more seriously" than a dog.

For a name? “OH! Can it be Asmodeus II? Pretty pleeeeease~”

You will be Asmodeus II's main caretaker. Since Asmo will be more interested in spoiling it with toys, clothes and affection. And if he wants to buy something and doesn't have coins for it, he'll try to convince you to play more mini-games to get more coins for him to spend. “Ow, don't be mad at me hon. It's for our little baby. What if I spoil you in real life as a thanks~?”

When he tells his followers about this new virtual pet, eventually, more and more fans will ask him to tell them more and more about how it's going. Which mean that your pet will end up becoming part of his content. But it also ends up making Asmo pay more attention and care for it more.

And don't be surprised if, for a person who didn't want to commit to a pet, he ends up being the one trying to convince you to get a real pet. After all, if a virtual pet is already so good, imagine how much better a real pet would be! How cute would that be! And how much more engagement and new followers his social media would have! But despite this last one, what he really wants is to share a new love with you.

If the app has a chat and, at night, you both open the app at the same time to put your pet to bed:

AsmoBaby: Hey hon~ <3

AsmoBaby: I just wanted to come put our baby to bed~

AsmoBaby: Sorry for always being you the one to do this

AsmoBaby: What if you let me do this tonight? ;)

He cuddles your pet until it falls asleep.

AsmoBaby: Awwww! IT’S SO CUTE!

AsmoBaby: I have to take a screenshot to show my followers!

AsmoBaby: Give me a second~

AsmoBaby: I could see this cute little thing sleeping for hours~

AsmoBaby: But we both need our beauty sleep

AsmoBaby: Oh, that gives me an idea!

AsmoBaby: Why don't you come to my room?

AsmoBaby: We can do our nighttime beauty routines together

AsmoBaby: And we can sleep together if you want to stay with me

AsmoBaby: You deserve some spoiling for taking such good care of our baby <3

“A virtual pet?” Beel wouldn't understand the proposal well at first. “Isn't the point of having a pet to have a true companion by your side? You know, to take care of each other and play together?”

You tell him yes, but that it's just a little experience for you to share. Seeing how much you really want to do that with him, he will smile. “Okay, if you really want it that much, I'll take care of a pet with you. It'll be fun. Anything with you is.”

According to Beel's traditional Devildom profile, when asked "Cats or Dogs" he answers "Dogs". So, a dog will be.

For a name? You're asking a lot of him. Could you choose one for him? But try to keep it from being a food-related name, this will make Beel hungry. (And in the worst possible scenario, he wanting to bite your virtual pet. This is before he becomes attached to it)

He won't care much about aesthetics, you can take care of that if you want. You are free to dress your pet and get it as many toys as you want. Beel will be more interested in feeding it well and exercising.

In terms of playing mini-games to get coins, it would be very balanced, none of you would get many more coins than the other. Unless you're crazy about those mini-games. In that case, you would get more coins than Beel.

You also shouldn't be surprised when he starts talking about the two of you getting a real dog as a pet. Yes, it's true that Lucifer has Cerberus and that he would let you take care of him from time to time, but Beel wants a puppy of both of you. He wants to have a little furry baby with you.

If the app has a chat and, at night, you both open the app at the same time to put your pet to bed:

Beelzeburger: Hey

Beelzeburger: You're also here to put our dog to bed?

Beelzeburger: Being here with you makes me very happy

Beelzeburger: We can do this together

The two of you cuddle your pet until it falls asleep.

Beelzeburger: I'm going to get a snack before going to bed

Beelzeburger: Do you want one too?

Beelzeburger: We can have a midnight snack together

Beelzeburger: I'm going to the kitchen now

Beelzeburger: Do you want to meet me there?

Beelzeburger: Or do you want me to bring a snack to your room?

Beelzeburger: Oh wait!

Beelzeburger: I can eat your snack on the way

Beelzeburger: Sorry, it would be better if you come meet me in the kitchen

“A virtual pet? Well, it's not as demanding as having a real pet. And it would be fun to take care of a pet with you. Okay, we can do it.”

According to Belphie's traditional Devildom profile, when asked "Cats or Dogs" he answers "Dogs". So, a dog will be.

For a name? Well, Belphie would have a little idea. “You know, Beel has always reminded me of a happy dog, especially when he smiles. Ha ha. What do you think about calling it Beel?” That and when you two talk about your pet without giving context, the reactions of the brothers would be fun to watch.

You'll probably realize that taking care of that pet with Belphie is a rollercoaster. One moment he takes care of all the pet's needs and even buys one or two little things for it. And the next, the pet has all its needs at a minimum and needs a lot of care. Those last one usually happens because Belphie has fallen asleep and has been sleeping for a long time. But apart from those times, your care would be quite balanced.

You would probably be more in charge of playing the mini-games to earn coins. That's because Belphie doesn't really like to have that much work, although he tries to do it from time to time so it doesn't always have to be you.

He wouldn't start trying to convince you to get a real pet. Especially a dog. Because he knows it would be a responsibility he's not prepared for and he knows it would end up giving you more work and he doesn't want that. That virtual pet is perfect. At least for now.

If the app has a chat and, at night, you both open the app at the same time to put your pet to bed:

Belphie: Hi

Belphie: You're here too

Belphie: Do you want to put it to sleep?

Belphie: Be my guest :)

You cuddle your pet until it falls asleep.

Belphie: Thanks <3

Belphie: Hey, since you're still awake too

Belphie: Come join me

Belphie: Let's cuddle until we fall asleep

Belphie: I always sleep better when I'm with you

Belphie: I also have the best dreams

Belphie: Come sleep with me~

If you dropped in here out of the blue and want to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[kierstins-astrology3]

Alma persona chart & your soulmate

Asteroid 390!

Alma represents your soulmate, the type of characteristics they will have, what my soul desires in a partner. An analysis of my alma pc and my soulmate (will hopefully meet them sooner than later).

Picture is from @Pinterest

Sun in Pisces 5h 29° My soulmate identity can be sensitive, emotional, spiritual with Pisces. In 5h they can be creative, fun, confident. 29° (Leo) degree goes with 5h but a fame degree they can be famous long-term. Or my soul can desire this in a partner which is mostly true btw!

Moon in Cancer 9th 24° The emotions that they have & our emotional connection can be extremely emotional & felt with Cancer and 24° (Pisces) degree. Or my soul can emotionally desire this in a partner.

Mercury in Aries 6h 14° The communication in my soulmate / connections can be quick, impulsive, confident with Aries. In 6h can have organized, close communication / routines. 14° (Taurus) degree the communication can be stable. Or my soul can desire this kind of communication with a partner.

Venus in Pisces 5h 26° The romance & beauty in my soulmate connections can be sensitive, intuitive, emotional, spiritual with Pisces. In 5h the romance can be extremely romantic, fun, passionate. 26° (Taurus) the romance can be stable, secure. Or my soul can desire that kind of love with a partner and honestly true.

Mars in Capricorn 3h 29° The passion, ambition, sex drive can be serious, hardworking with Capricorn. In 3h the passion can be related to communication, learning, siblings, and the internet. 29° (Leo) degree and a fame degree the passion can be there 100% and can even be well known for a long time. Or my soul can desire this kind of passion with a partner.

Jupiter in Libra 12h 15° Luck with my soulmate connections can be related to our relationship, business contracts, peace with Libra. In 12h can have luck with spirituality, creativity, sensitivity. 15° (Gemini) degree can mean luck with communication & learning. Or my soul can desire that kind of luck with a partner.

Saturn in Cancer 9h 20° Challenges with my soulmate connections can be related to home, family, emotions with Cancer. In 9h challenges with traveling, learning. 20° (Scorpio) degree can be related to transformations, rebirth, intimacy. Or my soul can desire these kinds of challenges with a partner.

Uranus in Pisces 5h 8° Sudden changes with my soulmate connections can be related to emotions, creativity, spirituality with Pisces. In 5h again sudden changes related to fun, creativity, or unexpected pregnancy. 8° (Scorpio) degree changes with emotions, transformations, intimacy. Or my soul can desire these kind of sudden changes with a partner.

Neptune in Aquarius 4h 16° Creativity, spirituality, delusions with my soulmate can be unique, or can be related to the internet with Aquarius. In 4h and 16° (Cancer) degree, the creativity can be related to home, family, emotions. Or my soul can desire this kind of creativity with a partner.

Pluto in Sagittarius 2h 24° Transformations with my soulmate connections can be related to learning, traveling, spirituality with Sagittarius. In 2h there can be transformations with finances, stability, self-esteem. 24° (Pisces) degree it can be related to spirituality, creativity, emotions. Or my soul can desire this kind of transformation with a partner.

North node in Aries 6h 23° The direction & purpose of my soulmate connections are to become more confident, bold, work on myself with Aries. In 6h the direction can be to have a good routine, health, and work. 23° (Aquarius) degrees the direction can be a unique one or can be seen on the internet.

Chiron in Aquarius 4h 1° The wounds we need to heal / wounds in my soulmate connections can be related to friends, internet, uniqueness with Aquarius. In 4h it can be related to home, family, mother figures. 1° (Aries) degrees can mean that sounds will be related to self, appearance, body.

Part of Fortune in Cancer 9h 1° Luck in my soulmate connections can be related to emotions, home, family with Cancer. In 9h can be related to luck with traveling, spirituality, religion, education. 1° (Aries) degrees luck with appearance, body.

Vertex in Gemini 8h 0° Fated things that will happen in my soulmate connections can be to expand my communication, education with Gemini. In 8h can be fated to go through transformations, rebirth.

Alma in Aries 6h 21° My soulmate can be bold, confident, impulsive, attractive with Aries. In 6h they can be work oriented, healthy, can need to have a good routine. 21° (Sagittarius) degrees my soulmate can be free-spirited, carefree, a traveler or from a different culture.

Juno in Pisces 5h 17° My soulmate and I’s ideal partner and marriage can be emotional, creative, spiritual with Pisces. In 5h and 17° (Leo) degrees it can be fun, creative, again can have children or with degree can be famous / known.

Groom in Pisces 5h 4° My soulmate / fs can be again emotional, creative, spiritual, can love romance with Pisces. In 5h again he can be fun, creative, can love children with 5h & 4° (Cancer) degree.

Union in Scorpio 1h 1° The Union between my soulmate & I can be an intense, emotional meeting with Scorpio but can also be for a one night stand possibly. In 1h & 1° (Aries) degrees, the meeting can be quick, impulsive and can fall in love at first sight.

Hera in Capricorn 3h 0° The marriage between my soulmate & I can be serious, hardworking, a long term marriage with Capricorn. In 3h the marriage can emphasize communication and learning.

Boda in Taurus 7h 6° The wedding can be stable, beautiful, luxurious with Taurus. In 7h the wedding will be beautiful, harmonious, full of love. 6° (Virgo) degrees the wedding can be organized, planned out.

Kiss in Cancer 9h 4° The kissing style between my soulmate & I can be slow, emotions can be involved with Cancer and 4° (Cancer) degrees. In 9h the kiss can be impulsive, carefree.

Eros in Scorpio 1h 6° The passion & sexual drive in my soulmate connections can be intense, transformative, emotional with Scorpio. In 1h the passion can be about appearance, body, attraction. 6° (Virgo) degrees can be passionate about organization, routines, health.

Destinn in Gemini 8h 6° The destiny in my soulmate connections can be to communicate, learn with Gemini. In 8h destiny can be to transform, rebirth. 6°(Virgo) degrees can be to stay healthy, have a good routine.

Asc: Libra 25° People could see my soulmate / soulmate connections has beautiful, harmonious, romantic with Libra. 25° (Aries) degrees they can see it as bold, impulsive, passionate.

Mc: Leo 0° The reputation of my soulmate connections can be creative, confident, bold, dramatic, fun, can have children with Leo.

Aspects:

Sun Conjunct Venus 5h: The themes of creativity, fun, children can be important with my soulmate/ connections.

Moon Conjunct Saturn 9h: Emotional challenges with traveling, learning, teaching, being from different cultures.

Groom Conjunct Uranus 5h: Meeting my fs can bring sudden changes in my creativity l, having fun, and having children could get unexpectedly pregnant (hopefully not I’m only 20 lol).

Groom 5h conjunct Asc: Meet my fs can be fun, creative, could expand my creativity & fun after meeting, and could fall in love at first sight.

Boda 7h sextile Uranus 5h: A romantic wedding but can also be after a sudden change in romance, possibly pregnancy again.

Natal Alma 1h Conjunct pc Sun 5h: My soulmate can help with my sense of self, physical appearance and after meeting can again help with romance, creativity, and fun.

Natal Alma 1h Conjunct pc Venus 5h: My soulmate can bring out my love for 5h themes same as the one above.

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read chapter 2 here // Series Masterlist

Chapter 3

Summary: You found yourself caught up in the mystery surrounding the patient in room 393.

Warning: 18+, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

Note : Daemon has the same length of hair in this fic

You couldn't really tell what you were feeling. You felt angry but then you denied to yourself that you felt angry because why would you be angry? He wasn't your boyfriend and he was allowed to kiss and fuck whoever he wanted. But then he wasn't allowed to do those things because he was a patient and that was against the rules, yes that's why you were angry. You were angry because he broke the rules. That's all.

“Ummm how did she get caught..what happened?” You asked Mona, prying for the details of the encounter between Daemon and Shyla so she rolled her eyes,

“You know how she gets, Dr. Vis caught her in his room giving him a handjob or something” your face contorted into disgust as you heard that.

Did you really believe you were the only woman around here he was sweet talking to? Nuhuh, not with that face.

“So she's fired for real? They're not going to let her off the hook with a warning?” You asked her so she crossed her arms in response, firing her seemed unnecessary especially when there was a shortage of staff and you didn't think the act between them was non consensual, Shyla was a free spirited woman and Daemon definitely seemed the type to sleep his way around town.

“I don't know, she's in his office right now and he'll decide her fate but we all know how strict he is”

You nodded as she said that before you grabbed your cart to resume your duty for the day. You didn't want to think about it, it was none of your business. You started from room 390 and made way to 393, all while maintaining a calm and composed demeanor, masking any underlying feelings that you may have had about the situation, you knew you had to stay calm and pretend as if this thing between Daemon and Shyla hadn't affected you in the slightest which it hadn't.

As you stepped inside his room with your cart dragging in front of you, from your peripheral vision you could see that he was sprawled out on the bed, of course he didn't have clothes on. He was stretched out comfortably, with his hands resting under his head, exposing his bare chest and other things to the view of anyone who entered the room.

“Put your clothes on or I'd have to report you” you mumbled sternly as you looked around the room, it was unfathomably dirty, it hadn't been cleaned in a week because you weren't allowed to do so during his isolation. You couldn't help but wonder if this stunt he had pulled will finally lend him to the lone ward..

“Report me, see if I care” you heard his smug voice and your jaw clenched but you didn't want to feed into his attitude. You knew that if you were to succumb to the temptation of getting dragged into a verbal spat, it would only lead to further revelation of the annoyance you felt regarding this situation.

Daemon was not oblivious to the fact that you were feeling irritated, you must have heard about him and the woman he didn't even know the name of. He saw that your mood had shifted, and he reveled in the feeling of having the power to affect you emotionally because he was affected by you as well. But then he also didn't want to make you uncomfortable so he got up and pulled his pants on,

As he got up, you approached the bed and went through the routine process of pulling back the sheets, only to notice that something had fallen to the floor in the process. Curious to see what it was, you went down to take a closer look and discovered a feather that caught your attention. It was bigger than your palm, a striking shade of black, with intricate patterns and streaks weaving through the feather,

“Where did you get this from?” You asked him as you finally made eye contact with him but instead of answering you with words he grabbed the feather from between your fingers and crumpled between his palm to throw it away.

“You should go down, it's almost lunch time” you told him sternly “and take a shower, you reek” you glared at him and he couldn't help but chuckle. You had been putting up with his antics for far too long, and it was evident that your patience was wearing thin.

“I don't think so” he mumbled as he approached you and the closer he got the more nervous you became, he didn't actually stink, he smelled really good, woody and earthy, like mahogany.

As Daemon placed his nose dangerously close to the crook of your neck to take a sniff, you immediately pushed him away with a sense of urgency, pressing your hands firmly against his shoulders in an attempt to create some distance between the two of you. However, despite your best efforts he didn't even budge an inch, he was strong, very strong.

“You're going to start your cycle in an hour or so” he mumbled as he stepped away and you looked at him all perplexed. He was good at messing with you, but how did he know you were closer to your date? His ability to predict such an intimate detail made you feel vulnerable and exposed,

“What do you use? Definitely not a tampon considering you're an untouched maiden” he whispered in your ear and your ears felt hot with anger you were feeling at the moment. Why did he enjoy riling you up like this?

“You're pathetic you know, whatever happens to you today, you will deserve it”

His smirk disappeared as he heard your venomous words but before you could feel any sort of pity for him you walked past him, grabbed your cart and got the fuck out of his room.

As you walked away, a sense of shame washed over you. You knew that your behavior had been unprofessional and that you had allowed your emotions to get the better of you. You also knew that allowing a patient to affect you in such a manner was unacceptable, and that you had to learn to maintain your composure.

You went to your supervisor Mona and informed her that you were feeling lightheaded all of a sudden and room 393 was left uncleaned. Luckily for you she didn't pry or ask many questions and you were grateful for that.

About half an hour later you sat down on the toilet to stick a pad into your underwear as you felt the familiar churning in your stomach. How did he know? Even if he was messing with you, the timing of his statement seemed almost eerie, as if he had some sort of supernatural insight into your bodily functions.

You couldn't afford the privilege of resting so you popped two painkillers at once and stepped out of your room to grab lunch. As you entered the canteen, you were surprised to see Shyla there. So she didn't get fired huh? You assumed so because she had her work uniform on.

“Shyla? Are you alright?” You asked her and she immediately broke down in tears which left you feeling concerned. As you got closer, you noticed the marks on her neck and it worried you.

“I'm fine I'm fine..” she mumbled between her tears so you caressed her shoulder to comfort her. Despite her words, she didn't seem fine at all. What had transpired in Dr. Vis’s office and how come he hadn't canned her after she was caught fondling a patient?

Later in the day, Dr. Vis called for a meeting and summoned all female employees, including Dr. Lisa, to attend. As you walked into the meeting room, you saw Shyla standing next to Dr. Vis, she looked embarrassed, nervous but also terrified..

“Look at this girl, look at the suffering she has endured because she couldn't suppress her curiosity” Dr. Vis stood before the group, his eyes fixed on Shyla as he spoke. The mark on her neck seemed much darker now, making it apparent even from a distance now.

“Who did this to you child? Tell them” Dr. Vis asked Shyla and you could see her shaking with fear.

“Daemon– the new patient..he did this”

Your eyes widened as she revealed that. That couldn't be right? You knew he was unpredictable with his behavior but you couldn't see him hurting anyone like that but then you had known him for two weeks and he was a patient. A part of you didn't want to believe her words though, it left you feeling confused.

“Take this as a lesson, do not interact with him when you're on your respective duties. Isolation may be the best way to handle him, and his ego must not be fed. Shyla's actions have shown us that his aggression is only fueled by the attention he receives. Shyla here has been a good employee so I'm granting her one more chance but consider this is an official warning, anyone who disregards my instructions will be met with severe consequences” Everyone in the room nodded in understanding, fully aware of the gravity of Dr. Vis's words.

“Go on now, do your jobs” Dr. Vis asked the group so everyone turned around to leave. Except you.

“Why is he free to roam around if he's so dangerous?”

You knew you should have stayed quiet, you knew you shouldn't have intervened for your own good but you couldn't help yourself.

“Oh dear, are you questioning my authority and my treatment plan for the patient?” He asked smugly so you shook your head in response. You didn't want to piss him off and you definitely didn't want to be on his radar.

“No I'm just.. worried about my safety, I'm assigned to his room so I just-”

“You come to me if you feel threatened by him all right?” He told you sternly so you nodded and didn't stretch the conversation.

As you all stepped out of the room you noticed that Shyla hadn't joined the group. You couldn't help but wonder what Dr. Vis was saying to her in private, and if Daemon truly did hurt her the way she claimed. A part of you found it difficult to believe that he was capable of such a thing but that day in his room he had told you something about losing control. What did he mean? You had a plethora of questions and none of the answers..

During tea time you watched him sitting in the corner of the room all alone, you noticed how nobody was even looking his way, not even the patients, perhaps Dr. Vis had a separate meeting with them as well where he had asked them to not interact with him.

Dina gave you a tray of snacks and tea so you looked at her confused,

“You go give this to him..he scares me, he should be in an asylum and not here”

You gulped as she said that so you walked towards his table and placed the tray down. His eyes met with yours and he seemed so utterly sad that your heart clenched immediately for him. Keeping your anger aside, all you wanted to do was hug him so he wouldn't look so sad.

“Have your tea, dinner will be served late tonight” you spoke to him so he nodded, you had to maintain distance from him like you had done with all patients before but something kept pulling you towards him.

Maybe it was his unique charisma, or perhaps his eyes with their intense gaze. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but there was an aura of intrigue surrounding him that you couldn't ignore. Despite your best efforts to maintain your professionalism, you found yourself drawn to him like a moth to a flame, a sense of mystery surrounded him and you wanted to figure him out, you wanted to read him like a book, find out everything he was hiding between those pages.

The next morning when you woke up you found a feather lying near your door that someone must have slipped in from the outside and there was a note as well

“I'm sorry :( ”

That's all it said on the note and it made you smile. Where did he get these feathers from you wondered?

As you wheeled your cart in his room you found him on the bed reading.

He didn't say anything to you but as you approached the bedside drawer to clean it, you felt his eyes on you.

“I'm sorry for what I said yesterday, it was out of line and insensitive” you mumbled softly so he brought his hand forward and grabbed your hand.

The sudden touch surprised you, and you froze for a second, unsure of how to react.

“I deserved it”

You were surprised by the soft tone of his voice, perhaps he was truly apologetic, perhaps he cared a bit as well.

“Why did you hurt her like that?” You asked him as you turned to him finally to gaze into his eyes but your question only caused him confusion..

“What?” he asked

“Shyla” you responded, making his confusion grow.

“What are you talking about?”

“What happened here yesterday between you and her?” He looked away as you questioned him as if he was ashamed.

“I heard a knock on my door, at first i thought it was you” he mumbled so you looked away. Why would you go see him first thing in the morning as if he was your lover? You would never.

“I didn't even know who she was, next thing I know she had her hands all over my cock so I -” you crossed your arms as he said that “I'm a man being deprived of sexual release..what I was supposed to do?”

You bit on your cheeks as he said all that so unabashedly, you could never be so forward about the matters of sex as he was.

“That is all that happened?” You asked him so he sighed.

“I didn't even get to finish, the cunt doctor stormed in and took her away”

You looked him in the eye for a hint of lie or deceit but he seemed genuine and you didn't know who to believe anymore. Why would Shyla lie though? Why would she tell Dr. Vis that he had attacked her? To save her job? Perhaps that could have been a possibility.

“Why don't you use your own capable hands the next time? She could have gotten fired-”

“I didn't invite her. She came onto me and you think I was thinking with my brain at the time?” he asked you with furrowed brows and scowl apparent on his face.

“You should.. especially around here where you are a patient admitted for mental instability, i don't know what's going on here but you need to be careful”

He looked at you confused as you said that but you didn't have time to clear his confusion, you resumed your work before it would get suspicious.

“What kind of bird is that?” You asked him after a while so he gave you a smile.

“What bird?”

“The feathers”

“It's not a bird, it's me, it's from my wings” you sighed as he said that. Every time he said something like that, you were instantly transported back to reality where he was a man who believed that he had the ability to turn into a dragon.

“Okay sure it's yours, ”

“Smile” he mumbled softly so you looked at him.

“What?”

“Please smile, i feel better when you're smiling” your face flushed as he said that and your mouth curved into a smile on its own.

Didn't even have to force it.

Later that night as you laid in bed, you felt confused out of your mind, how did he know you were going to bleed? That was such a random and wild guess, not to mention something very inappropriate to say to a woman he didn't know that well.

You heard a knock on your door so you sat up on the bed, in last two years the only time you had been awakened from the sleep was when a patient was out of control so you were already assuming the worst, but as you finally opened the door, standing in front of you was Daemon, looking as calm and relaxed as ever. For a moment, you were lost for words, wondering why he had come to see you in the middle of the night and that's when you began to freak out.

You'd lose your job if you were caught with him at such late hours.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You asked him as you peaked your head out the door and looked around to see if someone had followed him, when you didn't see anyone you grabbed his arm to usher him inside, closed the door and then you shoved him against it, this was the first time you had truly observed how tall he was as compared to you, you had to crane your neck up to have a conversation with him.

“What are you doing?” You asked him worriedly, why was he so adamant on being sent to the lone ward? He didn't answer you as you questioned him but he suddenly swept you off your feet and flipped you around until you were cornered against the door. His hands wrapped around your waist, trapping you in his embrace, and you could feel the heat of his body against yours.

You couldn't comprehend how he could have such a high body temperature if he wasn't sick. As he placed his nose between the crook of your neck to sniff you like an animal again you tensed up, your instinct told you to fight him, to push him away, but something in his touch made you hesitate. He wasn't hurting you, he has never hurt you physically,

“It calms me down” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck before he pulled away, the look of confusion visible on your face.

“What?”

“This..your scent, it calms me down”

His fingers curled around hair and you stifled the moan that was threatening to spill out of your throat.

“You need to leave, please, this is not safe for you, it's not good for you” your voice came out in hushed whispers and it only turned him on further,

“Safe for me?” He snickered, “Silly girl, didn't you witness what I did to that poor servant?”

You looked him in the eye as his hand wrapped around your throat, a part of you felt terrified of him but another stayed calm, there was something about him that made it so easy for you to believe that he won't harm you.

“Did you do it?” You asked him so he grabbed your chin between his thumb and forefingers.

“What do you think huh?”

“You don't hurt me, why would you hurt a girl for pleasuring you?” you asked him as you built the courage to place your arm on his shoulders, your thumb ran over his collarbone and you could see his breath wavering at the touch.

“Because I'm unstable and unpredictable” he smirked as he noticed your lips trembling slightly, it didn't bother him that perhaps he terrified you a little, you would have been screaming your lungs out if you were actually scared of him.

“You didn't believe him did you? His lies” he asked you so you gave him a small smile,

“So he was lying?”

“You'd believe my words against his? A patient's word as opposed to a doctor's?” he asked you curiously,

“I know i shouldn't”

As Daemon stepped away from you, your eyes were drawn to the chiseled muscles beneath his skin. The sight was almost mesmerizing, and for a moment you found yourself caught up in his physical attractiveness. But you snapped out of it quickly, your senses on high alert as his hand reached into his pocket, extracting something you couldn't see from this distance. When he stepped back toward you with a feather in hand, your heart raced,

He placed one of his arms over your head while he used the feather with another to caress your cheeks, you closed your eyes again as your breath shuddered like a wave, you had never been touched this way, never been made to feel this way,

The sensation of being touched in such a way was completely new to you, and you found yourself wondering if this was what romance was supposed to feel like.

Were you supposed to feel so scared but so aroused at the same time?

As the feather brushed over your lips, the scent of mahogany filled your senses and this time you didn't care about stifling your moan. It smelled like him, the feather smelled like him, he slowly trailed down the feather from your chin to your neck. The nightie you had on gave him enough exposure to your skin to play around with.

You were so easily ruffled, he thought, never been touched, never been pleasured, never allowed a man to touch you like this and the knowledge brought him a great deal of satisfaction but also a strong feeling of protectiveness.

The realization that you had never experienced such intimacy before filled him with a sense of accomplishment, but at the same time, a need to shield you from the cruelties of the world. He knew that he had the power to influence you, to make you feel things that you never thought possible, but he also knew that he must use that power wisely. He felt responsible for you.

When he lowered the feather into your palm, you looked up at him, your eyes hazy with desire. A sense of confusion swept over you, wondering what he expected you to do with the feather.

“Good night” he mumbled softly even though you were frozen in your spot , still reeling into his touch, but then you collected yourself and stepped away from the door so he could leave. He had to before he got caught.

You closed and locked the door immediately as he was gone and then you stood there right against the door to calm down. Your mind still not believing the encounter, knees still felt wobbly, his touch was still afresh on your skin, it reminded you of the dream you had.

Once you were finally broken out of the trance you looked down at the feather properly and your eyes widened in surprise.

It was soft to the touch but it was the shade of the feather that piqued your curiosity all over again. It only intensified the mystery he had surrounding him and it pulled you deeper into his charm.

"Who are you?" You mumbled under your breath as you inspected the feather. It was the same shade of silver as his hair.

🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

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[cremateyourlife]

Endeavor sucks so here's a rant cause i've seen too many people say he isn't that bad lately

(CW / TW for abuse, ptsd mention) going in best order of episode events, but also including manga spoilers (sections are indented so you can skip the manga parts)-

this is pulling from source material but also very opinioned based. I get people saying he's an interesting character (kinda) but i hate seeing people excuse what he did because "aww he feels bad now." like him if you want but hating on other's for not liking him is just stupid.

it will also be long, but I have a lot of thoughts, hope at least some people agree with me lmao

i started typing this around when ch 390 came out so i know this has all been said before but with the new season coming out and like i said more people defending him i wanted to finally post this

"The Boy Born With Everything."

"That kid of mine will beat you some day, I'll make sure of it. That's why I created him."

Endeavor admitting he only had kids to be heroes, ones better than All Might, shows he does not truly care about his children. He only wanted them because he couldn't handle his failures. He sees them as a tool, not as his own kids, not as people. That's obvious in almost everything he says to and about Shoto.

And while I hate him, he isn’t a failure hero wise. He’s literally the # 2 hero out of however many hundreds there are. He’s simply mad he can’t beat AM? What is he a child who thinks he deserves everything he wants because he’s never been told no?

When Shouto finally used his fire Endeavor yelled about him finally realizing his “purpose.” More proof he sees his children, Shouto specifically, as tools. They aren't humans to him, they don't have their own feelings or goals, they are a means to an end. A means to his end. Shouto overcoming his own guilt (guilt caused by Endeavor) doesn’t matter to him. What matters is he now feels Shouto is worth something.

Class 1A vs 1B (i dont remember the exact episode names)

the flashback we get after Tokoyami talks to Shouto we hear Endeavor say, “Touya was close… Come on Shouto you’re the only one who can master this move.” Endeavor was putting the weight of his dead son's “failure” on the shoulder of his 5 (?) yr old kid. Making the kid who just lost his older sibling feel like he has to be better, or he could die too.

“Quit pretending to be weak.” Bro that is your very young kid. He is weak. Train him early, sure, whatever, but this is just abuse. You aren’t training him. Pushing your kid to the point of throwing up isn’t just training. It isn’t him being weak. It’s abuse.

I know this show is very flashback heavy in the first place but I really do interpret all the flashbacks Shouto gets of his dad as PTSD. Often times when fighting and in battle, after getting hit, he has memories of his dad. Sure, this could just be his motivation but I think it’s more than that.

"The Unforgiven."

"I thought if I saved you, that you might never say a word to me ever again." Aka Endeavor saying, "I should save my son, so he maybe likes me again." Natsuo my beloved. I love when he is an ass to his dad. His own son is saying he could never forgive him because why does he "need to be the one to make an active effort to change?" and that even though Endeavor wants to make up what does he think he can do now? Natsuo will always see his dad as the one who killed his older brother, and I don't blame him. Because that is who Endeavor is.

"He literally says in the episode he doesn't want forgiveness." And? He doesn't deserve it. He doesn't need to make Natsuo feel better for hating him when he has every right to after what his dad did to him and his entire family.

Sure, this episode is us seeing a "change" in Endeavor because he wants to be better, however, this is my post so I will say why I have a problem with this lmao. When did we see Endeavor start to change? After he became the number one hero. After he realized people were going to be looking at him even more.

The only good thing he does is realize that in order for his family to be happy he cannot be in the picture.

"Dabi's Dance"

Not including all the scenes I want to bc if I did, I'd just insert the entire ep lmao

"Oh, but he is changing. He regrets his actions." Why didn't he have regrets years ago when, to everyone's knowledge, his 13 yr old son had died? Endeavor didn't start feeling "guilty" until he became the number 1 hero. (as stated before)

And yes, we see and hear how upset Endeavor was over Touya’s death, but did he change? Did he stop being abusive and neglectful? Did he apologize and see his faults? Nope. So how bad did he really feel.

Dabi himself called him out on this during "Dabi’s Dance" when he said, “Is that why you finally decided to try to bond with your children? Keep looking toward the future and you can be a better man?"

On top of it all, Endeavor didn’t even step in to fight. Yes, he was shocked seeing his dead son in front of him again, but do you not think Shouto was shocked seeing his dead brother? He still fought.

Chapter 350

Many people say Dabi was born in the fire. However, that isn't true. Touya didn't die in that fire. He died and Dabi was born 3 years later when he went back home and had seemingly been forgotten about. He woke up in a strange place, covered in burns and sounding completely different. He wanted to go home. He wanted to apologize for all the awful things he said. He was told that he has been severely injured and once again that he was a failure. He was scared and alone. So, he goes home thinking he will be accepted with open arms, that maybe everything would be better, and everyone will celebrate yet he gets there, and his dad is still the same. Abusing his siblings and his mom is gone. Not only that but to Touya's POV, he has been replaced by his younger brother.

Plus does that not show you who Endeavor is as a person? That even after pushing his son to death he didn’t change.

"The Wrong Way to Put Out a Fire"

i won't include any clips or panels from this bc it is very intense and while this post will talk about it i still don't want to include those pictures

Going ahead and getting this out of the way because people love bringing it up for some reason, while what Rei did to Shouto was awful, obviously, it is not even close to being on the same level as the things Endeavor did to the entire Todofam. Rei was scared to look her own kids in the eyes because when she did, she saw Endeavor. She saw Endeavor's rage and feared for her safety, and in a moment of a clear panic attack and mental break defended herself, because look at Rei and tell me that woman doesn't have PTSD.

If the entirety of this ep didn't make you hate Endeavor and see he is incapable of change then idk what to tell you. Him convincing his very young child that his sole purpose is to be the next number 1 hero. He then finds out his kid physically won't be able to do that he tells him that he simply isn't good instead of sitting down and talking to him.

Buying Rei because he wanted to create his perfect child, then forcing her to be some baby machine. (Random fact that always haunts me is that Touya and Fuyumi were born in the same year.) Abusing Rei repeatedly. As well as, hitting her in front of the kids with a very young Shouto between them while the other two hide in a corner. Blaming Rei for Toya continuing to train when it is his own fault. Then on top of that, not going to Sekoto peak. He could have shown up for 2 seconds but no.

We also see another instance of Rei seeing Endeavor in her own kids when she tried to stop Toya from going and training like when Shouto came to check on her when he was little.

When Touya had a breakdown and tried to kill Shouto, instead of seeing the pain Toya was feeling and realizing his own mistakes, Endeavor just isolated Shouto from his siblings. Didn’t let him play with them, by what Natsuo said at dinner he monitored what he ate and when.

Also, I don’t wanna her “Dabi was insane from the start” after trying to kill Shouto. That was an abused child, turned neglected child, asking to be seen. Begging to be looked at. He, like Rei later on, snapped. He realized that if he wanted to be seen then the only one his dad cared about needed to be gone

Chapter 390.

Shouto finally shows up and brings Dabi down. Somehow Dabi is still alive and this is where he states that everyone, including him, should die. Endeavor then apologizes. Sure, he apologized, better late then never, whatever. However, it just really feels like he is speaking over Dabi. Dabi could be dying, could be saying his last words, and Endeavor starts talking. I will say I like how he acknowledges exactly what he did in some way. That he "pushed Rei past her breaking point", "put everything on Fuyumi's shoulders", and "abandoned Natsuo." It just all feels so empty and really doesn't mean anything with his entire family burned and scarred and Dabi lying on the ground, as well as Shouto passing out.

Endeavor’s “I’m sorry” only goes so far when his son is lying almost burned to death yelling for them all to die, Shouto over working himself to stop Dabi when even his dad couldn’t, and his non hero family standing on the battlefield as well.

In conclusion, Endeavor is an abuser. He pushed his 13 yr old son to death, pushed his wife past her breaking point then sent her away, neglected his other two children because they weren't what he wanted, and only felt bad after he achieved his dream. After he got everything he wanted despite it being built on a broken home and the victims he created along the way.

Like I said if you want to like him that's fine, but don't get mad at others when they don't like him. The Todoroki subplot hits home for a lot of people. It is a very serious and real situation. Take away the hero aspect and Endeavor is just another abuser in the world, something many people have been through.

Anyways if anyone read all of this hope you enjoyed. Hope some people agree. If you didn't leave an ask or comment lmao let's debate.