#i saw a video of someone covering nothing at all that had someone else playing piano for them so that must mean at least sheet music exists

[chobbits]

Hey htdioblr !!! Pls help !!!

Do any of you have sheet music or an instrumental version of nothing at all ? 😮 I've been looking for ages but can't find either :-(

[f1fantasys]

uhm so i have an idea where Lando is working out alone to release his emotions, perhaps after a bad day or bad race. but suddenly, you enter the gym, which annoys him because he wanted to be alone right now.

however, as you start working out, he kinda ogling your 🍒 and eventually decides to approach you to talk and that led to the spicy part when he starts touching you and fucked you on one of the bench using you to let out his anger 🫣 tysm!!!

THIS!! I don't feel like I've done this INCREDIBLE request justice. So someone please write a better one and tag me in it! @ccsainzleclerc5516 you would do amazing at this!

POST RACE WORKOUT

Warnings - smut!! need i say more?

2.4 words. IDK why it's so short - feel like i have writers block.

The Monaco weekend was always a fun one. Fun, but extremely busy, especially being a Sky presenter. From the Monday leading up to the weekend you'd been in and out of meetings, events, and not to mention recording and being live on air for several hours a day. But you loved it, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

But now that the race and post-race shows were finally over, you still had a lot of adrenaline and energy to burn, which is why you currently found yourself walking up the stairs to the gym, wearing the tightest tights and a sports bra. It was well past midnight, but, having connections had its perks, so here you were.

You pushed open the door and stopped in your tracks. There was some distant music playing and as your eyes scanned the room you definitely weren't expecting to find Lando Norris who was currently lifting weights, shirtless, might I add. He stopped what he was doing and stood up, eyes shamelessly searching your body, but an annoyed look on his face.

''Uh, hey'' you greeted.

All he did was nod his head.

''You good?'' you couldn't help but ask at the way he was looking at you. You felt you own cheeks heat up as you gawked at his body that was riled with sweat.

''Yeah'' was all he said as he turned around and continued what he was doing.

You of course have had a lot of interaction with Lando - several interviews and social media videos which meant you'd spent quite a lot of time with him. Obviously, he was one hell of hot man, and yes, you looked, but you'd never touch. Your work was too important to get involved with any of the drivers. You'd also noticed him looking more often than not, but you never allowed your mind to go there.

As you stood there for a few minutes you couldn't help but feel bad for the guy. He'd had a shitty race - mclaren had fucked his strategy, once again, and he didn't get the win. So you totally understood why he was in the gym at the time - also trying to get rid of the adrenaline.

You dragged your feet to the treadmill and hopped on, setting a medium pace, trying to focus on something else and not the half naked man across the room.

After about 15 minutes you slowed your pace down a bit, grabbing your towel to wipe the sheet of sweat over your face and arms. As you walked over to do some weights, you looked ahead in the mirror and locked eyes with Lando. He was standing drinking his water, and you watched as his eyes left yours and shamelessly looked your body up and down again. To be fair - you were swearing the skimpiest gym clothes which left nothing to the imagination.

What you didn't know was that Lando had been eye fucking you the full 15 minutes you were running. He had wanted to be alone, let out his frustration, but that changed the minute he realized it was you who walked through the door. He licked his lips as he saw how your tights wrapped around your ass so perfectly, how your boobs were bouncing and threatening to spill out of your bra, how you back muscles flexed as you ran, and how sweat covered your body making you glisten under the lights. Lando had always found you attractive to say the least, and now he was painfully hard by just watching you workout. He wanted nothing more than to walk up to you and rip your clothes off, bend you over, and rail into you.

You tried your best to ignore him and focus on your task, so you sat on the bench and started brench pressing, heavy breaths leaving your mouth.

Suddenly, you saw Lando standing above you, staring down, and his own breathing just as heavy as yours.

Before you could react and say anything, he held onto the weights and pryed it out of your hands.

''Lan-'' you started, but he cut you off.

''Shh'' you said, before walking around and facing you as you sat up. He took a seat in front of you, legs on either side of the bench as yours were.

You swore you heart was beating out of your chest right now. He looked so heavenly. Bright green eyes, curls messy and sticking to his forehead. And not to mention his god-damn beautiful torso. Muscles taught and defined, with sweat dripping down, his own body shining in the lights.

''Eyes up here'' he said, smirking, catching you out for staring.

''Fuck'' you mumbled to yourself, before you looked up at him.

You felt as his hands found your waist and effortlessly slid you closer to him, and now your breaths were mingling, the heat in your body rising.

As you found yourselves in an apparent staring contest, Lando's hands started roaming your body He traced your arms up and down, your shoulders, you back, and your breath hitched as he suddenly slipped them under your sports bra, feeling up your boobs and fondling with them.

You closed your eyes and tried to calm your breathing, but that was impossible with the fact that he was sitting right in front of you and touching you. Now he was rolling your nipples between his fingers, pulling at and tugging them, earning himself a moan from you.

''Lando'' you panted, needing more, almost grinding yourself on the bench.

''I know baby''

The nickname gave you goosebumps, and you couldn't help but open your eyes and smile at him.

Soon after, Lando tore your bra off of you, revealing your perky boobs. He lowered his head and latched his mouth onto your left nipple. Biting and sucking on it before using his tongue to sooth over.

Your hands found his hair and you pulled at his curls, edging him on, begging him some more. ''Lando, please'' you said, grinding down on the bench harder than before.

He lifted his head and crashed his lips to yours. It was eager and messy, tongues clashing and spit sliding down both yours and Lando's chin. He bit on your lower lip and you felt him slide his hands through your tights to grope at your ass. By now you were cupping his face, pulling him impossibly closer. While his one hand stayed on your ass, the other slid round to your front and cupped your cunt.

The action has you arching off the bench, breath increasing ever so much as he slid his fingers through your folds, which were soaking by now - something that didn't go unnoticed by him.

''Already dripping for me, love?'' he asked, voice thick and hoarse with his British accent.

''Uh huh'' was all you managed to say, biting your lips at the feeling of his calloused fingers rough against your clit, which he found rather quickly.

He captured your lips with his as he thrust two fingers through your entrance, the swift movement making you tremble in his arms.

''Ride my fingers y/n'' he said between breaths.

And so you did, you rode his fingers hard and fast, and just as he curled them at just the right time, feeling you soft cushiony spot inside of you, you felt a warmth begin to build in your stomach.

No word spoken and Lando added a third finger, sending you trembling over the edge as you latched onto his shoulder for support to ride you through your orgasm.

He slowed his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, before pulling them out and shamelessly licking them clean of you cum, moaning at the taste.

''Hmm, so fucking delicious'''he said, smirking, as you watched, mouth agape.

''Lando please'' you panted. ''Need to feel you in me'' you said, looking at him with longing eyes.

When you looked at him again, his whole demeanor changed. His eyes became ridiculously darker and the emotion he wore on his face was a mix of sudden anger and frustration.

He didn't say anything. Instead, he man handled you to lay down before he ripped your tights off of you and stood up to free himself of his constraints.

You watched as his hard cock bounced first then stood tall and angry.

''Fuck, he's big'' you thought to yourself as he placed himself between your legs.

Lando leaned down to kiss you as you took him in your hands and pumped him a few times, using your thumb to spread his pre cum around his tip.

The movement had him bucking forward, grunting into your mouth.

He pulled back and looked you in the eyes. ''You sure?'' he asked.

''Please. Please fuck me''

He lined himself up and wasted no time in slamming into you, bottoming out in one thrust.

''Shit'' you gasped. He was definitely the biggest you'd ever had, and the sting was intense. But this was Lando Norris, and you were determined to let him have his way with you.

He finally started moving, setting a pace that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your nails dug deep into his skin.

''So fucking tight, fuck y/n''

''Oh, Lando, yes, please, yes'' you cried out, unable to keep your moans at bay.

Lando continued to fuck into you while his mouth found your boobs and sucked hard at them, surely leaving purple bruises for tomorrow.

Within minutes you could feel your walls begin to clench around him, your orgasm approaching fast.

''Fuck, gonna cum Lan-'' you started but before you could finish he pulled out. You whined at him, an annoyed whine which you knew would edge him on further.

He scooped you up with such an ease, and suddenly you were flipped over and on your tummy, Lando sliding into your cunt with force again.

He bunched up your hair and pulled it tight, earning pornographic moans from your mouth straight to his ear.

''Can't win a fucking race but at least I got you begging for me'' he said through bated breaths, finally railing you the way he wanted from when you first walked in.

''Fuck Lando, you won. You won for me'' you moaned. You didn't care what the outcome of the actual race was - in your eyes, he was always a winner.

''Doing so well for me babygirl. That's tight.''

This time your orgasm gave you no warning. Hearing him call you babygirl pushed you over the edge, your body shuddering underneath him and your juices spluttering all over.

You moaned his name as you came, and if anything, he sped up his movements briefly before sliding out of you again.

This time he sat facing the mirror and pulled you up to sit down his lap, facing the mirror as well.

You immediately sank down on his now throbbing dick, setting a harsh pace as his hand snaked its way around you and settled on your throat.

''Want you to watch yourself fuck me'' he roughly whispered in your ear.

You kept your eyes on each other while you rode him, Lando's occasionally dropping down to watch how your boobs bounced up and down with each thrust.

''Fuck'' you hissed as you felt another orgasm approaching.

''Fucking me so good baby, go on. Be my slut'' he urged you to carry on.

Your movements were becoming sloppier, unable to hold yourself up and able to continue to thrust so Lando had to take matters into his own hands.

He was now fucking into you again, but at a relentless pace, clearly chasing his own orgasm as well.

''Together, yeah?'' he asked, his hand sliding down to toy at your clit.

You couldn't hold it in anymore. ''Fuck, Lando, now. I need to cum'' you said, as you felt his cock twitching inside of you.

The room now filled with grunts and moans, swear words flying everywhere as you both reached your climax, juices spilling out of you like the end of the worlds. Lando made sure to empty his load painting your walls white with his warm splutter.

You sank back down on him, letting your weight fall back leaning on him.

You locked eyes in the mirror again, both trying to catch your breaths, sweat dripping down the both of you.

Now that he got his release, Lando couldn't help but feel ashamed at the fact that he used you. Although this was the best sex he'd had in a long time, he felt he needed to apologize, and hope he hadn't fucked up a chance at anything more.

You could feel him softening inside of you, but neither made any attempt to move.

''Lan-''

''Wait. Fuck. I'm sorry if I was too rough'' he said, shyly.

''What?''

''I'm sorry i called you a slut. It was a complement, actually. I just had all this adrenaline from the race. And you were there. And...Fuck, i couldn't help myself'' he was rambling.

''Lando stop.'' you said firmer than you intended to. ''I didn't say I didn't enjoy it. Did I?'' you asked.

He shook his head.

''Really, it was so fucking good, and I'm glad it was me. I'm glad you used me''

''I-What?''

''Yeah, think I needed it as much as you did'' you said.

He wrapped his arms around you holding you tighter.

''Well then I'm glad you walked through the door. Thank you'' he cooed.

You smiled at him and slowly got up, letting him slip out of you, when something dawned on you.

''You ripped my clothes, Lando! literally'' you shrieked, eyes wide and a chuckle filling the air.

He stood up and pecked your lips.

''Well then, you'll just have to come home with me'' he said, smirking, but throwing his t-shirt to you to wear.

As he watching you put it on, he couldn't help but notice the stickiness dripping out of you.

''Fuck'' he mumbled, more to himself.

''What?'' you asked, as you didn't even release he was still watching you.

He didn't say anything, instead he bent down and licked your core, collecting the mixture of both of your cum.

The action had your breath hitching, not expecting it at all. You held onto his head as he did what he did, before he stood back up and let the juice slide out of his mouth and into your, before he kissed you roughly again.

''So fucking hot. Round 2 at mines?'' he asked.

You just smiled and walked to the door, opening it while gesturing him to follow you out.

REMEMBER - requests are open!

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you write a smutty story with Ethan Landry maybe giving your bf a blowjob while he’s playing video games with his friends…

Request: Ethan with “stop distracting me” and turns into something more 🤭

Please forgive my lack of video game knowledge. All I’ve ever played is animal crossing, pokemon and some crash (the orange fox) car race…when I was 9 to 12

Warnings: smut, blowjob

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

‘’Are you done soon?’’ you asked for the seventh time, waiting for Ethan to be done with his game.

He’s been playing video games for what seemed like hours now, turning your netflix and chill plans into a gaming night with Chad. You had nothing against the guy, but since Tara broke up with him a few weeks ago, he’s been interfering with your and Ethan’s plans and it was starting to really get on your nerves.

You get that he’s sad about Tara and needs a friend, but he’s got plenty. Why doesn’t he bother someone else?

‘’Yeah. Just a little longer, babe.’’ His eyes were fixed on his computer screen, fingers moving on his controller while Chad talked to him through the headset.

You were tempted to unplug his computer and abruptly end their game, but you didn’t want to be that girlfriend. So you sat patiently on Ethan’s bed behind him, playing with a plushie toy you found on his shelf. It was likely a collectible of some anime he liked, but you were careful with it.

Another hour passed and you had enough.

You stood and wrapped your arms around Ethan’s neck from behind and kissed his face, trying to distract him enough so he would abandon Chad and spend time with you. It was childish, but sometimes you had to play that card.

‘’Stop distracting me.’’ Ethan leaned into your touch, but didn’t tear his eyes from his screen, focused solely on the game before him. ‘’Go, I’ll cover you,’’ he said into the mic of his headset, then began jamming the buttons on his controller and shooting at the people.

You thought of flashing him. He could never resist your boobs, but the last time did so while he was gaming, Ethan clumsily hit his knee against his table and almost spilled his drink all over his expensive gaming set.

You needed to think of something else.

Ah! A mischievous grin curled on your lips as an idea sprung into your mind. It was more dirty than any stunt you’ve pulled before, but you knew this would win Ethan's attention.

As quietly as possible, you crawled and slid under the desk, trying to not accidentally unplug any chords and sabotage your own plan. The space was cramped under there, but you made it work and found a way to situate yourself comfortably enough.

You reached for the button of Ethan’s pants, your unexpected touch startling him in the process.

‘’What the fu—’’ He looked down underneath his desk and saw you at his feet. Ethan drew his eyebrows confusedly. ‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked in a hushed voice, covering his mic so Chad would not hear.

You ignored his question and undid his pants, holding your smirk when you brushed his sensitive cock and heard Ethan bite a moan. His eyes shifted between his screen and you, his heartbeat starting to pick up from the panic and excitement. This was every gamer’s fantasy and he couldn’t believe it was happening to him.

You pulled out his cock from his boxers as gently as possible, soft but heavy in your hand. His hips pushed up instinctively and you kissed his tip just to tease him further, causing Ethan’s breathing to falter for a split second. He was so sensitive to your touch.

At first, you jerked him to get him hard, spitting into your palm. You spread it over his growing shaft and stroked slowly.

He was keeping it together surprisingly well.

But when you gave his leaking head a little squeeze, that’s when he slipped, grunting softly as his abdomen tightened, his cock twitching in your hand. Panic flashed through Ethan’s eyes, praying Chad had not heard that. It would be so embarrassing.

You giggled amusedly, going back to pumping him. You kept your strokes slow, taking revenge for all the hours he made you wait. Next time, he’ll tell Chad to find another gaming buddy.

The thing about Ethan was that he was very sensitive and whiny. So the more you stroked him, the more sensitive he got and soon enough, he was shifting restlessly in his chair and having to bite his hoodie’s sleeve cuff to muffle a few needy whines.

Then, you push the level of difficulty to the next step, leaning forward and taking him into your mouth. You sucked gently and started to bob up and down his cock.

Ethan’s brain short-circuited and he almost dropped his controller. ‘’Fuck.’’ He quickly caught it and ran after Chad like a small child running after his mommy.

You pushed your teasing further, relaxing your throat and taking him all the way. Ethan took a deep breath, fighting the moan coming up his throat. He wanted to drop his controller and grab your hair into a ponytail to push you over his cock until you gagged on his length, but other duties were calling him.

‘’You there, dude?’’

‘’Y-yeah!’’ Ethan stuttered, gripping the controller so hard as his tip hit the back of your throat. ‘’I’m having issues with my internet connection,’’ he explained, making up a lie.

You stayed there for a few seconds and moaned, sending vibrations to his cock. ‘’Mmh, you taste so good, baby.’’

Ethan hummed, leaning back into his chair and closing his eyes for a brief second, jumping when Chad screamed through the mic — again. ‘’Shit. Sorry, I— Sorry,’’ he apologized, his face burning in embarrassment. ‘’Yeah, yeah. I’ll cover you.’’ His fingers jammed the buttons of his controller, returning his attention to the screen.

You continued your work until you felt Ethan close to his release, getting him exactly where you wanted him….and stopped. With a smirk, you pulled back cold turkey and he nearly groaned in agony at the loss of your warm mouth around him.

‘’I was about to cum. Why did you fucking stop?!’’ Ethan said out loud, looking down at you and forgetting about Chad on the other end. 

—

Scream taglist: @misfityanii @beautybyfire @iluvscream191 @mariposa555 @bella7866 @o638 @lulubelle14 @luvvtxinityy @frasersgf  @Eddiefrickenmunson @jasperr-the-friendly-ghost @ghostf4cee @thesebitcheslovesosadotcom @wandaswigglywoos @xjennyx2 @jennasslut @thatonesblog  @mikaelsonsstuff @icarly23 @tcddszn  @bt.oliana

All and more taglist: @spiokybirdstarfish @kenqki @liidiaaag @hawkegfs  @gillybear17  @areaderinlove @acornacreacure @black-rose-29 @fudge13 @cece05 @rosie-cameron @Caxddce @laylasbunbunny @gemofthenight @beautyb1ade  @hi-bored-as-fcuk-rn  @lovelyy-moonlight @mellabella101 @vxnity713  @marzipaanz

[plussizefantasia]

The Bet

Flufftober Day 16: Blushing

Steve Harrington x f!reader

Word Count: 1.0k

AN: Soft Steve is the best Steve. Thanks for reblogging! I'll see y'all tomorrow <3

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Teasing Steve is your favorite pastime. When he got flustered his whole face turned red, and so did his neck, all the way up and around his chest. Which is why you and Robin had a little bet going. She wanted to see how red you could get Steve in one shift and you liked a challenge.

Steve was bending over a cart of tapes that needed to be reshelved and you saw your opportunity. Slowly as to not make a sound you sauntered over to your unsuspecting boyfriend and with no preamble gave his pert ass a smack.

“Hey, hot stuff.” Steve shot back up and whipped around to face you. You could already see the blush beginning to fill his cheeks.

“What was that for?” He asked, his voice noticeably higher than it normally is.

“I liked the view,” You winked at him and blew him a kiss, already beginning to walk away and think of more ways to get the blood to fill his skin.

You obviously didn’t want to make him really uncomfortable so besides the very forward start to this little game you were playing you chose to play it safe for the rest of the day.

Compliments always seemed to work, anytime you could throw a “pretty boy” in conversation he seemed to glitch out. Robin was getting a kick out of seeing Steve become a stuttering mess every time you brushed his hand with your own.

By halfway through your shift Steve was noticeably red, so much so that an elderly woman who was checking out a tape for her grandson asked if he was okay. You had had to bite your check to keep yourself from busting out laughing.

You also found that touching Steve was a surefire way to get his heart racing. More than once you would place your hand on his back when you walked behind him. And when the two of you had nothing else to do and were just sitting by the computers waiting for someone to come check out you began playing with the little baby hairs at the back of his neck.

Steve gave you a look but said nothing, he had caught on to whatever you were doing and wasn’t going to deny your affection, even if it was more teasing than he normally liked.

“You’re hair is so soft Stevie.” He just hummed. “Kind of makes me want to…” You moved your hand up from the back of his neck and fully into his hair. When you were sure it was far enough in. You grabbed a handful and pulled it. Using it to maneuver his face closer to yours. “... do that” You whispered before kissing him firmly and releasing your hold. As soon as the kidd was over you jumped up from the stool you were sitting on, blowing him a kiss and walking to the other side of the store. Not before sending him a wink though. 

Steve was frozen for a solid five minutes before your voice woke him back up from the trace you had induced. 

“Hey, Stevie?” You called from across the store “Can you come take a look at this?” He hastily pushed himself up from off the counter and made his way to where you were. Standing in the middle of the more adult section of the store. Family video didn’t rent anything that was too risque but there were certainly some more than steamy films in the store’s cataloges. 

“Hey babe, do you think this looks kinda like me?” You offered him a tape that he’s honestly never seen before. But lo and behold the woman on the cover looks exactly like you. And she’s scantily clad. And holding a gun. 

“I don’t see it.” was all he said before practically shoving the tape back into your hands and almost running away from the aisle and into the employee-only room in the back. A growing flush traveled up the back of his neck as he retreated.

He not-so-secretly loved when you teased him. He wasn’t ashamed to admit that he liked being flirted with just as much if not more than he liked flirting. Your small touches made his heart skip a beat and when the sugary compliments flowed from your lips he could feel himself melting.

But it had never been anything overtly sexual, until now. Now he couldn’t stop thinking of you dressed in next to nothing like the woman on the tape. But instead of a gun, you were holding his bat. He was 100% sure that he should not enjoy that image as much as he did, but what are you gonna do?

He couldn’t wait for your shift to end so he could take you home and return everything you’ve been giving him all day. But as he checked the clock he realized he still had three more hours with you. And there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that you’re game was not even close to being done.

He was right of course. After you saw his reaction to the tape Robin had shown you last week, with a cover model who looked suspiciously like you. There was no way you were going to stop now. It was just too much fun. There was one thing left in your arsenal. Something you had never really tried before but were sure was going to get a big reaction from him. 

You watched him do his job for a while, perched on your stool, occasionally being forced to tear your eyes away from his form when a customer needed help. It always returned though. With just fifteen minutes left until close, Steve began to make his way back to the counter to grab the list of closing duties for that day and begin the process of closing down the store so the two of you could go home. 

You figured it was now or never, your shift was almost over and if you wanted to really get him to flush before you left you’d have to pull the big guns out now.

“Hey, Stevie?”

“Yeah, Babe?”

“I love you.” 

He got so red that his face matched the vest he was wearing. 

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

BESTIE could I get prompt 18 (if you’re still doing these prompts)

18. "You're legally obligated to keep holding me." with Marko and a casually clingy reader who most people assume they’re nonchalant and then Marko ALWAYS has them on him at some point?👀

Yes, of course! I hope you like this one, love!💜

----------------

If you had asked on the boardwalk about me, people probably would have said that I was cold. Distant. Cool. As if nothing bothered me. I mean, most people that I would have interacted with would have said that I was kind enough, I'm sure. But besides that, no - I kind of perfected the whole "I don't get bothered by anything, I don't need anyone, everything is going to go my way anyways and if not it still is" vibe. I owned it. And yet, behind that nonchalance, deep down inside, I knew that I wanted something else. I wanted someone to give me a reason. Someone who made me care. Who saw me, knew me, and was willing to stand beside me.

Luckily, about six months ago, I think I met that someone. He was careless and had a hint of danger around him. He seemed to live on messing with people. He lived for the thrill of the chase - or at least, that's what it looked like. When we met, he had tried to pickpocket me, and I had - just to see if I could - tried the same thing. On him. So there we were, looking at each other, hands in each others pocket.

"Bit cosy for someone whose name I don't even know," I commented, causing him to grin.

"How about we keep those hands empty and hand each other some names, hm?"

"Sure," I grinned, introducing myself. He, in turn, did the same. Marko - that was his name, and in all honesty, it suited him.

In the days that followed, we kept running into each other, and soon after, we became a thing. There was no need for any specific names to define what we were. It was simple. Before, we were a separate 'Him' and 'Me', and now there simply was an 'us'.

When we got together, I slowly started to realise that I liked being close to him. When riding around on his bike, I always scooted a little bit closer than absolutely necessary. Just to be closer to him. When eating out, I noticed that at the end of the meal, my chair would basically be next to his, our arms touching with every move we'd make. I didn't know why. It just happened.

Now, whenever I was with him, I was close with him. Holding hands, him slipping his hand in my back pocket, or the other way around. Leaning into him whenever we were hanging with the boys, playing with his hair while watching a movie. I was always near him, always touching him - and thankfully, he didn't seem to mind one bit. On the contrary, he seemed to like it.

Tonight, it was just the two of us. I had gone out to rent some movies. Marko had told me that he had never seen the Texas Chainsaw Massacre or The Exorcist. So, I had rented them from Max' Videos, and made sure we could watch them together. I'd also bought some snacks, ranging from popcorn to crisps and chocolates, and he'd promised to bring takeout.

"What do you want to watch first?" I asked as Marko sat down on the couch, handing me a carton with noodles.

"Exorcist? I remember that people went crazy for that one."

I chuckled, putting it on and enjoying my meal. That was until Reagan began to throw up. I was mid bite when the green vomit covered the screen, landing on the poor priests face - and when I felt my own bile rise up in my throat. I groaned, running to the toilet, sighing as I realised that this scene never sat well with me - and wondering how I could have forgotten it.

"Babe?" Marko stood in the doorway, making sure I was okay.

"Sorry about that," I smiled, but I was certain it looked more like a grimace.

"Shit happens," he shrugged, "do you want to watch something else?"

I shook my head. "Besides this scene proving otherwise," I motioned around, "I do quite enjoy the movie."

"Good," he grinned, helping me up. He handed me my toothbrush before leaning in the doorway, waiting for me to be ready.

"Are you sure about the movie?" He asked once we were seated again. The movie was paused at another scene, the worst being over. I nodded, smiling at him.

"One condition, though."

"Yeah? Which is?"

"You are legally obligated to keep holding me."

"As comfort or as protection for potential demons?" He asked as he moved me closer to him, covering me with a blanket.

"How about both?" I looked up, smiling.

"I think I can deal with both," he grinned, holding me as he started the movie again.

[barcalover86]

Can u do a pedri angst where him and reader finally make it official after months of him chasing after her but the next day the paparazzi find him getting cozy with a girl qnd its all over the media and she feels embarrassed but he doesnt think its a big deal so they get into a fight but make up in the end

Breaking News- Pedri Gonzalez

S, f, a

I saw that you also asked someone else and they did it, but I am gonna still answer you, so I hope you will like this as well. Enjoy!

So here is Pedri's version:

Pedri fell in love with you months ago, and he knew that he wasn't your type. His schedule was always busy, and he didn't have time to be in a relationship, and you wanted something serious. That hurt him a lot, but he didn't want to give up on you. For weeks, he did everything to show you that he loves you and that he wants something serious, too.

After a lot of work, you agreed to be his girlfriend and it was the best decision. He was a sweetheart, always made time to be with you. You would go to his games to support him and he would always be there when you needed.

People knew that you were together, but it was not a secret, but a private kind of relationship. He tried to keep you away from all the social media, knowing how they could destroy couples. He tried so hard to be yours, and he didn't want to lose you.

Now, Pedri was coming home after a hard day. It was really late and he was tired, especially that people were all over him. He barely could drive, so he decided to open the window and to sign some things and make some photos for the fans.

He stayed there a lot, and right when he wanted to leave to come home to see you, a girl shouted his name to make a video of her. Pedri sweared in his mind before smiling at her phone. When he thought that she was done, the girl went over and kissed his cheek. People started to scream in surprise. Everyone was with cameras, and Pedri felt so bad.

He couldn't say much thing, especially to shout at her, knowing that this was going to be on all super media. He only said that what she did was rude and his face was really angry.

He left the place and went home to see you on the couch, waiting for him, sleepy.

He smiled at you and kissed you. The kiss started to become more hard and after some time you were both naked on the couch.

"If you are too tired we can-"

"No, no, please" Pedri interrupted you. "I really want it"

You smiled at his words and then continued what you were doing.

Next morning, you woke up in his bed, naked. The blanket being the only thing that was covering you.

Pedri was already awake, and you went to sit on his lap while he was playing with your hair. He put the blanket over your shoulders and kissed your neck slowly. The night you two had was magic. He made sure to make you feel good, and today, being his off day, made it even more perfect. You could be all day together and that made you both happy.

After he told you that he's going to take a quick shower, you went through your phone to see if are some news.

You were on ig and saw a lot of videos and photos of Pedri and some girl the night before. You knew it meant nothing, but the way he acted made you sad.

She was way prettier than you and you were afraid that he enjoyed her kiss.

When he came back from his shower and saw your uncomfortable face, he asked you what happened.

"Nothing"

"C'mon, Y/n, please tell me!"

"I said nothing, Pedri!"

He stayed silent for some seconds before speaking again.

"Did I do something wrong..?"

"Oh, really? I don't know, did you?"

"That's why I asked you!"

He was getting on your nerves now.

"I-" he tried to speak after you showed him the videos.

"I'm not mad"

He seemed to calm down at your words a bit.

"No?"

"I..I'm just...sad? Disappointed? Embarrassed?"

"Why!? Y/n, look, I'm really sorry, but I don't think it's a big deal..?"

You were shocked by his words. Not a big deal?

"Ok" you replied simply before dressing up and wanting to leave the house.

"Where are you going?!"

"Not a big deal, Pedro."

"No, no, don't go. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, please stop. Let's talk about it, please."

"What is it to talk? You already made a conclusion. Exactly as you said 'not a big deal', right?"

"Y/n-"

"I don't want to hear it."

"Please, don't leave me. Let me at least explain!"

"What to explain, Pedro, if for you it's not a big deal!?"

"I'm sorry I said that! It was so stupid, but I promise to you that I only said it to not talk about it because I felt horrible when it happened!"

"Oh, and you decided to not tell me, but sleep with me! How mature, Pedro!"

"No, no, please-!"

"Please, what?"

"Let me explain what exactly happened"

"Go on, then. Make it quick."

He explained everything that happened. Ehy he didn't want to make a scandal and just left without going into a fight. How he didn't want it to affect your relationship and how he is really sorry.

You also explained that you weren't angry with him or mad. You just felt insecure and embarrassed that he chose you out of everyone.

"For me, you're perfect, and I only love you, amorcito. Trust me, you have all my attention"

You smiled at his words and kissed him. That day, he did exactly what you told him, in a way to be forgiven. You were laughing at his silliness, but were so happy that you were spending time with him.

All day, he made sure to tell you how pretty you are and how important you are for him. He also promised that if something like that is going to happen again, he would make clear again that he has a girl home that he truly loves.

Masterlist

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Two Hours - Chapter 2 - Shigaraki x Reader

After a little over three months, you had gathered a significant amount of information on Tomura Shigaraki.

He was smart, incredibly so, and an absolute genius with computers. He was probably the most hardcore gamer you had ever met and simply refused to lose a single match of any game. And, most importantly, he was kind of an asshole.

"Seriously? That's all the content you prepped for today? What am I even paying you for?"

He toyed with the greyed-out strings of his hoodie in boredom. "They were basically the same as the ones from two weeks ago," he grumbled.

"Well," you said as calmly as you could, "I could have prepared more if you actually did the lectures I asked you to do last week."

"They were useless."

"How could you know that if you didn't read them ?"

"I don't need to do something useless to be able to tell it's useless."

So maybe the jawline he hid under his layers of oversized black clothing was as sharp as it was delicate. Anyone could recognize an attractive jawline without making it weird. You certainly could.

"The idea is that we both work to help you, Tomura," you replied with much less bite than you would have liked. The look of superior smugness on his face didn't disappear.

Maybe the little mole under his lip looked lonely there. Like it needed to be kissed. That was a totally normal, platonic thought to have about someone you saw once a week and who did nothing but complain.

"I don't know," he grinned in a mocking sing-song tone, "I think you like helping me."

Ever since the afternoon you had spent playing video games with him, something had changed in your perspective of him. And he certainly wasn't the one who had changed: he was still very much a pain in the ass to work with.

No, the change was from you.

You couldn't remember the last time you had let anyone take a peek under your prime scholar's persona, much less someone who enjoyed it as much as he did. When was the last time you had gamed with someone? Told them about all your nerdy little interests without feeling rejected? Joked about something other than your thesis topic?

Poetry wrote itself in your mind every time you'd think of him. His skin was like cracked porcelain, pale and white, the marks marking his face doing nothing to dampen his beauty. If anything, it only made him more interesting, more enticing, and you wanted to trace each of his scars with the tip of your fingers.

You were going insane for a guy who had visibly never kissed anyone in the 3D realm, and you couldn't even find the will to care about it.

He stretched lazily, a sliver of skin showing an impressively toned stomach before it was covered back with black fabric. What else was he hiding under there?

Obviously, you hadn't gotten laid in too long. There was no other explanation as to why you'd feel so attracted to him. You tried to shake off the thought, reminding yourself that it was just a momentary lapse in judgment. But everything about him seemed to pull you in, a magnetic force you couldn't resist. Did you even truly want to?

"You know," Tomura said, his voice low and casual, "if you keep staring at me like that, people might start to think you're into me."

You blinked, snapping back to reality, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What? No! I was just... thinking about your midterm paper. That's coming soon, isn't it ?"

He sighed loudly, slouching back in his chair, giving you the perfect opportunity to at least try to regain your composure.

"I don't know what I'm even supposed to write about. The teacher is so bad at his fucking job half the time I wonder if he's not some homeless guy the university pays to stand around and do nothing," he complained, and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. After a second, like he had hesitated before saying it, he casually added: "You'd be way better at teaching the class."

You tried to hide your surprise at the unexpected compliment, failing miserably the moment you heard your voice come out as a shaky squeak: "Well, um, thank you. That's very nice of you to say."

"I don't say things to be nice. I say them because they're true," he retorted bluntly.

Damn it, you thought as you felt another pleased smile tug on your lips. Damn it all to hell. You couldn't let him dig his way deeper into your stupid little heart.

"You know," you said, desperately wanting to change the topic, "I could pull out my own paper I wrote back in the day for the class. I'm sure I have it somewhere back at the dorm. Maybe that could give you some inspiration!"

"Sure, just text me some pictures later," he replied, seemingly uninterested.

"Or we could go get it at my dorm now, and look at it together."

The weight of your words seemingly hit you both all at once like a 20,000-pound truck.

"Me," he stated, his thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. "At... your dorm?"

You had fucked up. You had fucked up so badly that perhaps your only choice now was to run out of the library, change your name, and leave the country.

If you took it back, and laughed it off as a stupid slip of the tongue, Tomura would no doubt take it badly. Very badly. And he was not the kind of person you wanted on your bad side.

If you rolled with it, pretended you had actually meant to invite him to a place with a conveniently lockable door and a soft pillowy bed, he might catch on as to the very bothersome feelings that you held for him. That wasn't a very good option either, but the lesser of the two evils was obvious.

"Well, guys aren't usually allowed in, b-but the security guy will let you through if I tell him you're with me !" you explained quickly, trying to sound confident.

The embarrassing truth was, you had never brought a guy back to your dorm. Fool around at some dude's apartment or in the back of his car, sure, but never inside your own private little space.

Tomura, on his end, looked like you had just asked him to go into an active war zone. "I-I don't know..." He hesitated, glancing around at every item in the library to avoid looking you in the eye. "Maybe just like five minutes? I have shit to do after, so..."

"Don't worry, we'll be in and out," you reassured yourself more than him, eager to be done with the entire situation, "It'll be fine."

---

It was definitely not fine.

The game was called Kira Kira~☆! Stories of Dormitory Love, which was a stupid name for an equally stupid game. Tomura was fifteen and he had discreetly bought it online using Kurogiri's credit card, because he had learned the hard way Sensei checked his account statements. If Kurogiri had noticed, he never said anything about it.

The synopsis of the game, if anyone could really call it a synopsis, was that you, the protagonist, were called to do repairs in an all-female dormitory. You'd go about screwing all the girls one by one as they'd throw themselves at your feet, begging to be taken with their round tits and perfect asses. Tomura spent that entire summer locked in his room playing it over and over again.

As it turned out, that scenario was much less pleasant in real life.

He felt the eyes of every girl they passed, judgmental and disgusted at the mere sight of him there. They huddled in little groups like scared chickens, muttering between themselves as they threw him worried looks. He glared right back at them, and one of them let out a small gasp like she would faint out of fear. Good. He hated it, he hated them. But to some extent, he couldn't fully blame them; he didn't belong here in the slightest.

Tomura's fingers held onto his neck protectively, his uneven nails digging as deep as they could into the skin. The pain didn't help; he was still definitely there.

And you.

You made it all so much worse with how nice you were to him, and how you laughed at every dumb thing he'd say, and how you licked your lower lip in focus every time you'd try to explain something-

He hated you for it.

"If you want, when we're done looking over my paper, we can play some Plus Ultra 2 on my computer," you smiled hesitantly at him, completely oblivious to how badly you were messing him up.

"I don't really feel like gaming anyway," he muttered between his teeth. It was a lie, an absolute fucking lie: he never felt like not gaming.

From the moment you had told him to fuck off under the rain, he had liked you. But you weren't any different from any of the dumb pretty girls he'd jack off to at night; at least not at first. You glared at him with fear and disgust, like you knew he'd spend the rest of the afternoon picturing you pinned under him and choking on his cock. And why wouldn’t you? No woman in her right mind would look at him and think he was anything other than a creep.

Until you did exactly the opposite.

You started smiling when you'd see him walk into the library. You'd laugh at his dry sarcasm and bad attempts at humour. You'd hang on to his every word when he explained the secret behind mastering a peculiarly hard combo, eyes filled with wonder. You'd look at him with pride and genuine joy when he finished all the lectures you had given him.

And suddenly, it wasn't just about how tight all your shirts looked on your chest, or how well your ass would fit against the palms of his hands. It was about everything else, all the cheesy shit he never understood and skipped in dating sims to get to the sex scenes. He despised how easily you had gotten him under your thumb, ready to do anything for you without even realizing it. He wanted you to think of him as much as he thought of you, more, even. You were an obsession he couldn't get rid of, and it itched, it itched, it itched- but not at his skin, no, much deeper, into the depths of his entrails and in a heart he didn't even realize he still had.

You turned back to look at him as if you felt his inner turmoil, a small pout tugging at your lips. He wanted to rip it off you with his teeth.

"C'mon, just one game? Last time you said you’d teach me how to triple combo with Present Mic."

"Whatever," he said instead, staring holes into the floor. Why was the floor so goddamn clean? Did girls clean their floors every day? Why was everything about you so picture-perfect?

Fuck you, he thought.

"Oh hey, Neijire!"

His head snapped back up. Oh no.

A few girls were sitting on an assortment of couches, watching some kind of stupid TV show. One of them replied to your greeting with a smile so bright it hurt his eyes. He wondered if all pretty girls gravitated around each other naturally.

The girl he could only assume was Neijire excitedly jumped off the couch, tightly wrapping her arms around your body. His lips tightened at the sudden sting of jealousy, at the fact that she could so easily touch you while the idea of holding your hand made him delirious.

"Hey, oh my gosh, you're here!" the overly energetic girl squealed. "Wanna watch some Love and War? We just started season 2 and the plot is so crazy-"

Then, she noticed him, and her bright demeanour fell slightly.

"Oh, is he... is he with you ?" she gently asked you, like she wasn't sure if it was safe to address him directly.

"Yeah, this is Tomura, one of the guys I tutor !" you replied.

'One of the guys ?' Tomura bitterly thought. Was he nothing more to you than one of the other NPCs you tutored? Did you bring the others to your dormitory too?

If you noticed how quickly his mood had soured, you didn't show it: "Maybe we could borrow the common room for a couple of minutes? I just need to go over some material with him really quickly!"

Neijire turned around to look at the other girls, the unspoken hesitation written all over their faces as they glanced at him.

"I don't know," Neijire softly started, "we just started watching TV. Maybe another time, if he comes back ?"

Please don't come back, was the implicit message under that sentence.

"No worries! We'll just go in my room," you said, and he noticed the worried fidgeting of your hands. There was no way you could feel as stressed as he did going into your room. You probably had guys in there every week, hell, every day for all he knew. What did you have to be nervous about?

As you both headed up a flight of stairs toward the second floor, Tomura couldn't help but feel some excitement in between the overwhelming sense of dread. Being in such close proximity to you, entering your personal space, stirred something within him that he couldn't quite comprehend. He had never, in his entire life, even gotten close to the inside of a girl's room.

'Toga doesn't count', his mind supplied unhelpfully. 'Toga would let a raccoon inside her room if she could.'

The moment you opened the door, it was dizzying: the flowery smell, the pastel pink walls, the books neatly organized together in shelves worthy of a magazine spread. It left a sickly sweet taste in the back of his mouth, and he tried to nonchalantly observe the room to savour every inch of it. It was probably the closest he'd ever get to tasting you.

The room was small, much smaller than his own back at the bar. A simple bed, a drawer, a suspended shelf, and a work desk with a foldable chair were the only furniture of note. As simple and boring as one could do.

But then as he walked in, Tomura noticed a few things much less visible from the doorway. Various trinkets laid around the room; a bag of takeout was haphazardly thrown into a small trashcan; a pair of mismatched socks were left on the windowsill, seemingly forgotten. On the furthest wall, there was a small but obviously cared-for poster of All Might, half of his classic I AM HERE catchphrase hidden by a laundry basket.

It was like all the girl's bedrooms he'd imagined but... different. Like someone actually lived there.

"Let me try and find that paper," you hopped away to the suspended shelf, taking out various coloured folders filled to the brim with papers. You clearly weren't kidding when you told him you saved every single one of your essays.

"You can just sit anywhere while I find it," you said without looking back at him, and his thoughts immediately went to the bed. The bed that you had slept in. The bed that you were sleeping in every night. The bed that you probably touched yourself in, and that he could justifiably sit in without looking like a creep.

He was going to go insane.

"I-I should probably just wait downstairs," he managed to stutter out. He could feel his face heating up; he had to get out of the room, and fast, or you would definitely notice.

"No no, wait, I found it !" you triumphantly exclaimed as you pulled out a stapled document from one of the many files. "There's not a lot of space on my desk, so we can just... sit next to each other on the bed and look it over?"

You smiled brightly at him, a tinge of red on your cheeks, unaware of the nuclear bomb you had just sent off in his brain. He had to say something to get out of there. Anything.

"People are going to think we're having sex," he blurted out.

Fuck.

That was unequivocally the dumbest thing he had said in his entire life. He was going to dump university and never leave his room again. He'd live as a hermit and survive off Mountain Dew and Lays chips until the ends of time. It didn't sound too bad, actually; at least that way, he wouldn't have to see your face ever again.

The look on your face stayed blank for a few horrifyingly heavy seconds. The silence felt deafening, ringing in his ears like the "GAME OVER" theme in an RPG.

And then, you laughed.

You fucking laughed at him.

Anger bubbled up inside him faster than he could control it. It itched. Everything itched.

Of course you laughed. You didn't like him, and you never had. You probably laughed at his jokes to get him to shut up. You brought him to your room out of pity, to mock him. All the girls downstairs were probably on it too, cackling in laughter at how stupid he was for thinking you saw something more than a scared-up freak when you looked at him.

"I'm fucking out of here," he spat out, storming around to open the door. The feeling was crawling up his arms, up his neck. It itched.

"Wait, Tomura!"

You grabbed his arm and he roughly shoved it away, almost making you fall down. Your eyes were blown in surprise, and perhaps, a little fear. Good. You should fear him. He'd never make the mistake of trusting anyone again. How had he even let himself trust you?

"I get it, I'm the joke. Ha, ha, you bring up the freak to your room, make him think he has a chance with you, and laugh in his face, everyone claps," he jeered.

"That's not what I meant, I-" you started.

"Is the idea of being with me that disgusting to you ?" he harshly cut you off. It came out sounding more hurt than furious. I'm so pathetic.

"Shigaraki. That's not what I meant," you said softly, as if trying to calm a wild animal. He wasn't having any of it.

"So now, you're back to calling me Shigaraki," he bit back bitterly. "The whole buddy-buddy thing was an act too, huh."

"Tomura, stop."

He looked at you now, properly looked at you, fury burning in his eyes, and you flinched.

You didn't look like you were having fun.

You looked... hurt.

"Tomura, I brought you here because I like you. As in, I really like you."

You were trying to bait him again. You wouldn't fool him twice.

"Yeah, sure," he snorted, voice dripping with irony. "That's why you laughed, right ?"

"I laughed because I was stressed out, I-I didn't know if it was appropriate to bring you here, because I'm tutoring you, and I didn't know if you actually liked me-" you rambled like a deer caught in headlights.

"You seriously expect me to believe that? That you were worried I liked you?"

"I laughed because I've been thinking about nothing but having sex with you for the last month and you're worried about people thinking we're having sex!"

The blunt admission caught him off guard. His breath hitched in his throat, his mind struggling to process your words.

"So you... think about me," he rasped out, a glimmer of vulnerability in his tone.

The weight of what you had just said seemed the catch up to you. Your cheeks tinted a deeper shade of pink, and you made an expression you had never made before in front of him. You were embarrassed. Genuinely, honestly embarrassed.

"And? So what if I do?" you mumbled, desperate to avoid his gaze.

"What do you think about me doing to you?" Tomura insisted. He was pushing his luck, he knew he was. But he had to know. He had to know if this was real.

Your lack of answer frustrated him, and he tsked in disappointment.

"C'mon," he taunted. "Where's the girl who told me to fuck off when we first met? Was that all an act too?"

Silence. I knew it, he thought bitterly.

Then, in a moment that defied all logic and expectations, you closed the distance between you both, and you kissed him.

---

It was messy, full of wet tongue and clashing teeth; it wasn't hard to guess it was the first time he'd ever kissed someone. But what he lacked in experience and technique, he made up in sheer passion, his body holding your own so tightly you felt like he wanted to swallow you whole.

You gasped for air when he pulled away, a single thread of saliva connecting your mouth to his. His eyes were blown wide, pale cheeks a deep crimson, mouth agape as if he had just witnessed an otherworldly miracle. Had anyone ever looked at you that way, so desperately raw and honest?

"Again," he let out a low, broken whisper, "do that again."

You couldn't tell if it was a request or a command, and it frankly didn’t seem like he knew either, but you immediately complied, pulling him back against you.

You guided his mouth to your bottom lip with your tongue, hoping he'd get the message. With precision, he copied the movement, watching you carefully for any reaction. You let out an approving moan and he seemed emboldened by it, deepening the kiss and wrapping his body over yours, trapping you against the wall.

When had his hand found its way under your shirt? You felt rough fingers drag along your skin, curious and possessive, grabbing at the flesh like he wanted to take parts of you back with him, like he wasn't sure this was real.

Knock knock.

"Anyone home?"

You both froze. Shigaraki looked at you like an animal caught in a trap, eyes wide and mouth still slightly agape.

"Move, move!" you hissed at him, pushing him off you. "Just a second!" you shouted at the door.

Shigaraki was still looking at you with the face of a confused child left alone in a supermarket. He wasn't going to be any help. You straightened your shirt and quickly combed your fingers through your hair before opening the door.

"Ah, Miss Kayama!" you smiled tightly at the dorm's resident advisor. "I'm sorry, is the TV too loud? I can lower the volume,"

"No, no, the TV is fine," she replied, peeking through your doorway. "In fact, I don't think your TV is even on."

You could have died right on the spot.

Miss Kayama tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, straining her glasses. "I was just made aware you brought a guest over, so I came to remind everyone that there are no visitations allowed after seven."

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was seven already !" you stammered hurriedly. "I was just telling Tomura he should pack up." You turned around to give the man a look: "Right, Tomura ?"

Tomura was still standing against the wall, as unmoving as a rock. He looked as though he had been frozen in time after the kiss, like his mind had short-circuited trying to process it.

"Tomura," you repeated more pressingly.

The sound of your voice seemingly pulled him from his trance, and he nodded slowly, walking towards the door like an automaton. He bumped against Miss Kayama's shoulder, and disappeared without a word down the wooden stairs.

"I'll see you next week," you weakly called out.

He didn't answer.

Miss Kayama slowly closed to door behind her, her usually delicate features were scrunched in worry. "Sweetheart, what you girls do in your dorm rooms isn't my business, as long as you're being safe about it. But who you bring here is important to me," she added, her tone more serious than you had ever heard before. "Make sure you don't mingle with the wrong kinds of people."

You opened your mouth to answer, then closed it.

Was there anything you could even reply to that?

---

The next few days were not fun ones.

[You: Hey, sorry about the whole kicking you out thing, Ms. Kayama really means well but sometimes she's strict with the rules]

There was still no answer three hours after you sent the text, which did not bode well at all. Any time Tomura's hands weren’t on any kind of gaming console, they were on his phone. He didn’t go anywhere without it, and you'd gotten used to getting replies to your messages within mere seconds. You sent a second attempt:

[You: My TV excuse was pretty lame right]

You laid on your stomach as you kicked your legs against the bed, glaring holes through the phone. Maybe your Wi-Fi was unstable?

[You: We actually call her Midnight in the dorm, cause she gets REALLY cranky when anyone has lights on after that]

Still no answer. You felt absolutely ridiculous, a lovesick teenager waiting for her crush to give her any attention. He had kissed you. Or rather, you had kissed him, and he hadn’t exactly pushed you away. That had to count for something.

You sighed, turning off your phone before huddling in your covers and closing your eyes. He'd definitely answer by tomorrow morning.

But when you woke up, there wasn't a single new message from Tomura Shigaraki.

[You: Hey, I sent you pictures of the paper I told you about, hope it helps with your assignment!]

[You: Sent 4 images]

The day passed as it usually would. You washed your face and brushed your teeth, got dressed, grabbed a quick breakfast, and made your way to your morning lecture. The hours seemed to drag on as the teacher talked, his words going through one ear and out the other. And still, no text from Tomura.

The next day had come and gone without any more communications. Your messages sat alone in your discussion, unread. Soon, the weekend passed too, and still, no word from Tomura.

[You: Are we still on for tutoring on Wednesday? I can move it if you need me to]

To say you had been freaking out would have been an understatement. For as much as you tried to control it, you felt like a mess, barely able to go fifteen minutes without checking your phone for messages. Was he that mad you had to kick him out? Did he still think the kiss wasn't genuine? Did he leave the country to join a pro gamer team, just to get as far away from you as he could?

The questions ran through your mind like an endlessly spinning record.

[You: Just tell me whenever you can!]

Would he even show up on Wednesday? Would it be like the first time you had met him, waiting hours for him to come, except this time, he never would?

You grabbed your face between your hands. Enough. You couldn't let one kiss send you through a never-ending spiral of doubt. If he was there on Wednesday, then great, you would talk. If he wasn’t, well, you'd deal with your feelings then and ask the faculty for someone else to tutor him.

And if you left the volume for your notifications on at maximum for the next few days, well, that was nothing more than a coincidence.

---

"Hey."

The familiar yet unexpected raspy voice almost made you fall out of the library chair, the sound of your book dropping on the table echoing through the building. The librarian threw you a dark look you barely registered, your mind focused on the tall man with dark red eyes standing next to you.

"Hey," you hesitantly said, awkwardly fidgeting with your hands. When had you gotten so self-conscious? "I wasn’t sure if you would come."

He answered with a small grunt, still not sitting down next to you. Deep, dark circles sagged under his eyes, and you wondered if he had also spent his week barely sleeping every night.

"Well," you said in the happiest tone you could muster, "we can start by checking your draft for the midterm, and seeing what we can add-"

"I already finished the midterm," he interrupted drily. "I sent it in last night."

"Oh," you swallowed slowly. Your throat was starting to feel itchy. "I guess we can... start looking at your next lectures then."

"I don't want to," he objected. "Let's just go somewhere instead."

Out of everything he could have said, that was one of the sentences you least expected.

"Tomura," you answered with uncertainty, "I'm still supposed to be tutoring you."

"And I'll tell the advisor you're the best fucking tutor there ever was and this session was great, now, will you just shut up and follow me ?" he groaned impatiently, his right hand wrapping around his neck and scratching at the fragile skin. He was anxious.

"Alright," you said softly, gathering your things before getting up and silently following the man out of the library.

The walk there was not the comfortable, calming silence you had gotten used to around him. It felt clunky, awkward, the unspoken weight of last week's kiss like a dark cloud above your heads, ready to erupt in thunder at any moment.

Once again, he led you off the beaten path and into alleyways you had never taken before. What did you truly know about him, after all? There had been so many unanswered questions about who he was outside of university. What insurance did you have that he wasn't leading you to an abandoned lot to snap your throat and sell your organs off to the highest bidder?

He stopped walking so abruptly that you bumped into his back, immediately backing away in fear of angering him. But he said nothing, staring blankly at the sign above the building, the neon light of the word "ARCADE" turned off. A huge padlock rested heavily against doors that had once been painted into bright, colourful motifs that had faded into an unreadable mess over time.

"Tomura, it looks closed," you remarked slowly.

"That's because it is," he answered drily, pulling out what looked like a bent paper clip from one of his pockets, hands instinctively going for the lock. After a few seconds of fidgeting, you heard a distinctive click, and the lock fell to the ground with a sharp metallic sound.

He smirked at your obvious surprise, welcoming you in with a flourish on his hand:

"Come on in."

You followed him in with as much confidence as you could project, which was not much considering the probability of him murdering you in an abandoned building had just significantly gone up.

The arcade was much larger than it had seemed from the outside, and had clearly been marked by the passage of time. Though there was no light on or a single window, you could make out the shapes of turned-off gaming arcades placed haphazardly throughout the room, as if the owner hadn’t been sure where to put them. The walls were covered with wallpaper that had seen been days in the eighties, old water marks deforming the large flower pattern.

Suddenly, your foot caught into something, and you yelped in surprise as you felt yourself lose balance. A surprisingly strong hand caught your arm, steadying you back on your feet. You stared at Tomura with your eyes wide, heart skipping a beat when you realized he was still holding onto you.

"Thank you," you said gently, and he let go instantly, like the touch had burnt him.

"Be more careful," he mumbled under his breath, quickly putting his hands back into his pockets. "I can't always be there to save you if you're that clumsy."

Suddenly, somewhere in the darkness, a man's angry voice rang through the arcade:

"If you goddamn kids are trying to break in again, I swear to God-"

You froze in fear as a large figure emerged, dressed in a bright purple suit and holding what looks like a metal pipe in his hand. You screamed, paralyzed into place, but as soon as the man saw Tomura, he lowered the makeshift weapon, squinting as he adjusted the small round glasses on his nose.

"Oh, it's you," he said with disinterest. You tensed as he dropped the pipe to the floor to take a puff of his cigarette, the metallic sound confirming just how heavy the thing was. "The usual?"

"Yeah," Tomura confirmed, impatiently putting his arms on the admission counter. "Hurry it up."

The older man hummed, unperturbed, like he hadn't just almost killed you for breaking in. He walked to a larger machine in the corner of the room, and inputted a few numbers on the keypad. Suddenly, the lights turned on, their artificial glow blinding. Heavy wiring sounds echoed through the room as the arcades individually powered up, chirpy 8-bit music starting to pour out of various sound systems. The whole room had suddenly taken life, like an old beast waking up from a thousand-year slumber.

The man reached into one of his deep suit pockets, pulling out two dozen shiny silver tokens before slowly counting them, cigarette still tucked between his lips. He handed them to Tomura who immediately pocketed them, not throwing a single glance at the man in the suit. The man sighed, blowing another puff of smoke, before seemingly noticing you for the first time. His lips widened into a mellow smile, revealing a missing front tooth.

"Why, Shigaraki," he purred, running a hand through his short gray hair, "you've never brought company here before. Will you introduce me to the lovely lady ?"

"Keep it in your pants, Giran," Tomura grumbled, the warning clear in his tone. "Leave us alone."

The man sighed in disapproval: "Snappy today, aren’t we? Then again, when aren't you..."

Tomura went past him without a word, and you hesitantly followed, throwing an unsure look at the older man.

"Well, I'll be in the back if you need me, don’t forget to close up when you're done," he called out, picking up the metal pipe from where he had left it on the floor.

"Yeah, whatever," Tomura replied without looking back.

You followed him through the strange maze of glowing screens and bright cabinets as he moved forward with a clear goal in mind.

"So, um, who was that ?" you asked with uncertainty.

"Some guy I know," Tomura replied. "He owes me one, so he lets me play in here for free when the arcade is closed."

That answered absolutely none of your questions. If anything, it added more. Why would this shady-looking man in this barely still standing arcade let him roam around and do as he pleased, with nothing in exchange? What kind of weight did Tomura have in these backstreet alleyways?

"Oh... alright," you replied miserably, not wanting to press the subject harder.

"Stop thinking so hard, I can hear it all the way from here," he complained.

"Sorry," you almost whispered, feeling the embarrassment creeping in. Had you always been so easy to read, or was he just that good at seeing right through you?

"Whatever," he replied with disinterest, "look at this instead."

He had stopped in front of a peculiarly large machine, in a significantly better state than anything else in the arcade. The bright yellow of the cabinet, the familiar little tune that rang from the vintage loudspeakers unmistakable.

"No way," you gasped, in awe of the inconceivable treasure that stood in front of you, "that's an original 1991 Plus Ultra arcade cabinet..."

"With the original paint job and controllers," Tomura completed, absolutely glowing with pride.

You approached the cabinet slowly, admiring it like an ancient artifact from a museum. It might as well could be one: out of a hundred produced, only three were known to still be up and running around the entire globe. It was the stuff of legends, the kind of priceless gem most people would have to settle with only ever seeing in the confines of a laptop screen.

"That's so cool," you whispered, running your fingers over the worn-out buttons with reverence, feeling the age and wear of the machine. What was it even doing in this dump?

"You haven't seen shit yet," Tomura said with a mischievous grin. "Wanna take her for a spin?"

If you could have kissed him right then and there without making things more awkward between the two of you, you would have.

---

Unsurprisingly, Tomura was good at every game he touched: from shooting games to rhythm ones, it was like he understood the secret behind every machine, long fingers nimbly moving at the speed of light. He took great pride in every win, grinning smugly for each ass-kicking he handed you. And yet, you couldn't resent him for it; you were having the most fun you had in years.

It wasn’t just the games, either. It was him. It was the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration when he shot 2D zombies, the way he'd mock you for getting a low score at the racing simulator yet always took the time to show you how to ace all the difficult maneuvers, the way he made your heart bump increasingly against your chest every time his arm brushed yours. It was all maddening, and yet you would have exchanged it for nothing else.

"Ah, shit, it's already eight," he said, bringing you out of your reverie. You looked in the same direction as he did, surprised to find a working clock suspended on the dilapidated walls. How had time passed so fast? "We gotta go," he added.

You couldn't help but let the disappointment slip through your voice.

"Oh, alright..."

Tomura didn't answer, long legs already heading towards the exit. You followed him like a lost puppy, looking around for the man in the suit you had met earlier.

"Shouldn’t we thank the owner for letting us play ?" you asked.

Tomura looked at you with confusion, seemingly perplexed at the very concept.

"Why? I told you, he owes me."

Without another word, he walked out the door, leaving you alone in the derelict yet brightly lit arcade. You couldn't help but yell out a "Thank you!" towards nowhere in particular, hoping your words would reach the elusive man. When no one answered, you walked out to join Tomura, throwing one last look at the strange room before the door closed behind you.

"Took you long enough," Tomura mumbled, putting the forgotten padlock back into place and snapping it shut. Just like that, it was back to being an abandoned building like any other, none of the lights or sounds escaping through the thick doors. There was something nostalgic about it, as if the arcade existed somewhere outside of time and space.

"Thank you for today," you said genuinely, locking your eyes into his. He obviously hadn't expected your earnestness, his pale skin quickly turning red as pointedly stared at the floor. "I had a lot of fun."

"Whatever," he replied in a way that made it painfully clear it was not whatever, and that was quite pleased with himself. "We need to hurry up, we're already late."

Late?

"Late to what ?" you asked.

"Stop asking so many questions all the goddamn time. You'll see when we get there."

"You're just bitter because I kicked your ass on the last round."

"I went easy on you because you're not used to arcade controls. Don't let it get to your head."

You could add ‘sore loser’ to the list of things you knew about him, you thought with a smile.

Whatever awkwardness had been there earlier had completely vanished, and you felt at ease walking next to him and letting your fingers brush against his. Of course, the kiss hadn't fully left your mind, but you felt like you could breathe around him again, like he had brought you both back to the way things were before the dorm incident. Maybe a friendship wasn't exactly what you wanted, but if it was what he wanted, you could respect that.

"It's here," he said, interrupting your reverie.

Much like when he had brought you to the arcade, at first, you thought there had been a mistake. This time however, it wasn't because it looked like an abandoned warehouse.

It was because it was the exact opposite of an abandoned warehouse.

The building was positively lavish, decorated from top to bottom with delicate mouldings and golden ornaments. The red marquis at the door shone with bright, warm lights, the entryway surrounded by a perfectly cut hedge and vases filled to the brim with red roses.

It screamed of luxury, opulence, and most of all, money.

"Tomura,” you started uncertainly, feeling fidgety at the idea of even standing in a 10-mile radius of something so expensive, “I can't afford this."

"Me neither," he shrugged, seemingly totally unbothered by the situation, "but I'm not paying."

He walked in and you had no choice but to follow, feeling somehow more nervous than when you had both broken into a building barely a few hours earlier.

If the outside of the restaurant had seemed overly extravagant, the inside was unfortunately much worse. The walls were all covered with those abstract paintings that cost an arm and a leg; the floors seemed to be made out of real marble, the kind with delicate gray veins and a pearly shimmer; in the middle of the room stood a large chandelier, from which dangled hundreds and hundreds of tiny diamonds. It was out of a fairy tale.

"Reservation ?" the maitre d'hotel asked, cocking an uncertain eyebrow at your duo.

Embarrassment shot back up into you as you realized what you both looked like. You weren't wearing anything peculiarly provocative, per se, but you looked so out of place when put next to the sea of suits and sparkling dresses that you might as well have been wearing a full clown get-up.

"Shigaraki," Tomura said plainly, like he was annoyed the man would even ask him that question. You were surprised a security guard hadn't kicked you both out yet.

The man's eyes widened. He muttered a few words of apology before turning around and almost running into the backroom. From the oval windows on the doors, you could see him hurriedly grab another man by the shoulders and ask him something. After a few seconds of back and forth, the man came back out, looking slightly nauseous.

"Of course, my deepest apologies for the wait," he stammered with a deep bow before motioning you towards the dining room. "Please, follow me."

The table he brought you to had obviously been carefully selected. The glass wall it was next to gave a beautiful view of the outside street and the setting sun. It was close to the live musicians, without being too close, and a little further away from other diners, like it was its own little world. It was impossibly… romantic.

The maitre d'hote pulled your chair for you to sit; you felt like royalty, if royalty wore shoes that had been 60% on discount during last year's spring sale.

The man left with another curt bow, and you attempted to open your mouth to ask Shigaraki just what exactly was happening. But seemingly out of thin air, another well-dressed man appeared, holding a large bottle of wine.

"You should have told me we were going somewhere like this," you whispered as the waiter poured you two glasses from the bottle, which, upon closer inspection, looked to be worth about your entire college tuition. "I feel… underdressed."

And entirely out of place.

Tomura seemed unimpressed, shrugging in disinterest as his lithe fingers toyed with the perfectly folded mouchoir on his plate, effectively ruining its shape. "You look fine. Who cares what some random NPCs think?"

"Still, this is...", you hesitated, glancing at the seemingly unending parade of crystals from the chandelier on the ceiling. Was that an indoor water fountain in the middle of the room? "...A lot," you concluded.

"You don't like it," he flatly stated.

"No, that's not what I'm saying !" you hurriedly answered. "It’s gorgeous, it's just... I didn't expect this for a… first date?"

A moment of silence passed, crimson eyes observing you with an unreadable expression, before Tomura said:

"Who said anything about a date ?"

Your heart dropped.

You swallowed with difficulty, finding that all your saliva had mysteriously vanished from your mouth. "It’s... not?" you hesitantly asked.

"I mean, it's not like it isn’t, but it's not a date either," he explained vaguely, looking away from your face, "it's just us, going out somewhere. To do a thing. Like the arcade. There's no need to make it weird."

"Ok," you replied, trying to hide your disappointment and the bundle of conflicting emotions this night had built up in you. One thing at a time. "Well, I like this... thing. Even though that glass of wine probably costs more than my entire salary as your tutor," you commented with the most honest smile you could try to muster.

Thankfully, the playful, snarky expression was back on the man's face: "All the more reason for you to drink it, then."

There was something pompous yet bored in the way he drank, like he had been raised on some sort of wine etiquette and still unconsciously followed its rules. You sipped the wine politely, afraid of angering some sort of wine diety by not properly appreciating what was clearly a great vintage.

"So, what made you choose this place ?", you inquired. "It's not exactly the type of place I expected you to frequent a lot."

"I asked a friend," he replied with little interest. "He said girls like that type of shit.” He licked a few drops of his lips, and you couldn't help but immediately remember the feel of them against yours in your bedroom.

Focus, you scolded yourself.

“Was it the guy from the bar? Dabi?" you asked, remembering the encounter with the ominous-looking man.

"Hell no, I wouldn't ask that guy for advice if my life depended on it," he scoffed. "He's some guy I know online. We play League together sometimes. He's alright."

"So, you asked a random guy online where to take girls on... things that aren't dates ?" You raised an eyebrow, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Stop saying it like that, and no, Spinner isn’t some random guy, I know him," he clarified defensively.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh: "His name is Spinner ?"

"His gaming handle is Spinner, just-" he interrupted himself, lips thinning into an accusatory pout. "You're doing this on purpose, aren’t you."

"Yeah, kind of," you admitted.

His lips stretched into a small smile, like he couldn't make himself stay mad at you for more than a few seconds.

“I can play that game too,” he replied with a half a grin.

Before you could say anything, a hand made its way to your thigh, and your leg bumped against the table in surprise. His palm was cold, refreshing against your skin which felt like it was warming up by the second. You barely managed to suppress a squeal when he squeezed his fingers into your flesh.

"Tomura..." you whispered, a mix of desire and apprehension in your voice.

The look on his face had gotten more smug, his eyes dark, cleared emboldened by your reaction.

“Relax, you're moving around too much. They'll notice,” he admonished you in a falsely sweet tone. His hand went up a few inches higher, sliding closer towards the inside of your thighs.

The chatter and music inside the restaurant had turned to pure white noise. His nails dug gently but firmly into your skin, his long fingers massaging the meat of your thigh. It was like you were back with him in your dorm room, your body burning like wildfire with the way he seemed to revere touching you. Time stood still for a moment, and you let yourself drunkenly sink into the feeling.

A foreign voice broke you out of your stupor and of the moment you were sharing, alarm bells going off in your head at the idea that someone had noticed you both. Tomura very reluctantly moved his hand away from its dangerous position, staring daggers at the intruder.

“Sir, Madam, would you like me to introduce tonight's menu?” the unsuspecting waiter asked, totally obvious as to what he had just interrupted.

“No,” Tomura replied, cold as ice. The waiter's eyes widened slightly; was it out of surprise, or fear? “Can't you see we're busy?”

“Of course, of course,” the waiter apologized hurriedly, taking a step back, and now, you knew for sure the man was scared. His body was rigid, holding onto the printed menus for dear life. You could fully understand someone being nervous when faced with a disgruntled Tomura, especially if they didn't know him, but this was something else. The man was scared shitless.

“My most sincere apologies. I-I would never have interrupted if I had known- Please do tell your father that-”

“Leave.”

You knew that tone. It was the one he had used when talking to Dabi the day you had met him. It was like the growl of an animal warning its prey of the incoming attack, giving it one last chance to run before it would pounce.

The waiter swallowed with difficulty, his terrified gaze stuck on the floor, and after muttering something that sounded like five different apologies strung together, he left the table so fast he might as well have vanished out of thin air.

The tension could be cut with a knife. Tomura's pale brows were furrowed in displeasure, the hand that had so fervently caressed you now wrapped around his neck. He scratched at his skin, rough and unforgiving, and you noticed you hadn't seen him bruise himself that way in quite a while, now.

You cleared your throat.

“So, your father-”

“Don't.”

His lips had thinned into a line, his crimson gaze lost somewhere beyond the window you sat next to. The scratching continued, practiced and mechanical, and you could see his pale skin turning an angry red under the pressure of his nails.

“Tomura…” you sighed. “I'm just trying to get to know you. I don't understand what you want from me.”

His eyes flickered back to you.

“One minute I'm kissing you,” you explained, “and you're kissing me back, but then you don't answer my messages for a week. And then you bring me to the arcade, and to the fanciest fucking restaurant I've ever been to, but you won't say it's a date, and when I ask anything to know you more you shut me down!”

You hadn't realized you had raised your voice before you finished your rant. You realized with embarrassment the two tables closest to you had paused their conversation to look at you. You could have dug a hole into the ground to bury yourself if you could. Why did you always end up feeling that way around him?

Tomura stayed silent.

Now, you were starting to get a bit more than frustrated. His eyes were fixated on your face, like he was trying to gauge something, but he still said nothing. You had poured, shouted your feelings out, and they had fallen on deaf ears.

Before you could gather the shreds of dignity you had left to get up and leave, Tomura finally spoke, voice raspy and deep.

“You want to know me?”

You could have thrown your hands in the air in exasperation.

“Yeah, I thought I made that pretty obvious,” you replied drily.

“Fine, then,” he said, leaning forward. “See the water fountain in the corner?”

You turned your head to face the direction he was looking towards, easily spotting the imposing water feature.

“There's some restrooms right behind that. The men's are fine, but the women's are better. Cleaner. More space.”

You wanted to ask how he knew that the women's bathroom was better than the men's, but you had more pressing questions.

“I don't get where you're going with this.”

He grabbed his glass of wine, finishing what little liquid had been left before shrugging, the hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Haven't seen anyone walk in there since we got here. I think it's empty.”

Why would it matter if the bathroom was-

Oh.

Oh.

"Tomura, we can’t," you protested immediately, thoughts in your mind racing.

"You do what you want," he replied dismissively as he got up, his eyes never looking away from yours. Why was his stare always so intense, so enticing? "I'm heading over there. You can decide if you want to come or not."

Without leaving you time to say another word, or even formulate another thought, he was walking away, disappearing out of sight behind the fountain.

You couldn't tell if you were mad, confused, frustrated, or horny.

Tomura Shigaraki was a roller-coaster, and you didn't know how to get off it.

He was so profoundly different from anyone you had met, let alone romanced before. He was unpredictable, his mood swings constantly keeping you on your toes, but there was undeniably something you liked about that. About how unapologetic he was to be himself.

But you? You had spent your entire life building a fortress of perfection to hide behind. You got As on every assignment you were given. You finished on top of your class, in every class. You graduated with honours and three scholarships to boot. But was that you, or the person you wanted everyone to believe you were? When was the last time you did something stupid, for the hell of it? When had you been to an arcade with a friend and fooled around for hours without worrying about anyone else's thoughts?

You glanced back at the bathroom at the far end of the restaurant; no sign of Tomura. You knew he wasn't coming back.

You looked at your table, staring at your half-empty glass of wine, the liquid the same colour as his eyes. He was brash, and impulsive, and never let you catch a break. You thought back to Ms Kayama's words, back at your dorm. Everything about him screamed ‘bad idea’.

The choice became clear.

You chugged the remains of your glass, and, lightheaded but not hesitant anymore, you made your way to the bathroom.

—-

It took a grand total of three steps inside the women's restrooms before you were unceremoniously whisked away into one of the stalls, two hands crashing on the wall on both sides of your face.

"Knew it," he smirked wickedly, "you're a pervert like me."

For as much as he made himself look unbothered, you could see clear relief in his features. He was scared you wouldn't follow him.

"It's not like you gave me many options,” complained mockingly, his crooked smile contagious. “What was I gonna do, get up and pay the wine myself? I would be in debt for the next forty years."

"You always talk too fucking much. You need to learn to shut up.”

Dry yet increasingly familiar lips crashing into yours, closing the gap between your bodies. He was already a much better kisser than he had been a week prior: he was making full use of his tongue and teeth, tasting every inch of your mouth and possessively biting on your lips. You responded in favour, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer. The ends of his hair tickled your fingers, soft and curly. When you pulled away to catch your breath, his pupils were blown wide, a drop of saliva making its way down his chin.

Beautiful, your brain supplied. The word you're looking for is beautiful.

"Can I…" he hesitantly started, and he was back to being the lost little boy who ran away from your room without a word, like he fully expected you to reject him. How could one man go so fast from self-confident and controlling to awkward and unsure?

"Tomura," you said, pressing yourself ever closer to him. His eyes darted to your cleavage pushing against his chest, and right back up, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to stare. The temperature in the room had gotten so warm it was dizzying, but you wanted to be closer, always closer. "I would not be in a restaurant bathroom stall if I didn’t like you.”

He swallowed with difficulty, one hand hesitantly gliding down your shoulder and stopping at your collarbone.

"I'm not going to warn you again, alright?" he muttered. "You can't just back out after this."

You grabbed his arm, firmly laying his hand on one of your breasts, before kissing him deeply. He let out a small sound of surprise, frozen in place. Then, it was as if he had awakened all at once, his fingers grabbing all they could hold onto. You moaned encouragingly in his mouth as the digits got rougher, possessively latching onto the supple flesh with the desperation of a starved man. When you pulled away for air, his grip on your chest did not lessen, instead being joined by his other hand. You muffled out a moan as he sharply massaged your breasts, the slight pain of his forcefulness unbelievably intoxicating.

"Fuck, your tits are so soft. I could shove my face in there," he rasped out. He was drunk off the feeling, off his own words, and you couldn't blame him, because you weren't faring much better. “No wonder that fucking waiter couldn't stop staring at them."

He pinched your nipples with the tip of his fingers, and you moaned. He looked positively delighted by your reaction.

"The waiter wasn’t staring," you protested weakly.

"Of course he was," he dismissed, twisting your hardened buds again to watch you squirm under him, "but it's too bad for him. I'm the one who gets to touch you today."

He pulled off your top so fast you wondered if he had ripped it. Nimble fingers took off your bra in a single try, and if you hadn't known better you could have believed he had had practice with this. You thought back to your afternoon at the arcade, how agile he was with his hands. How good they would feel grabbing your body instead of a controller…

Tomura watched the jiggle of your freed breasts with so much intensity and reverence you covered them with unexpected shyness, feeling your cheeks redden.

He frowned, grabbing both your wrists.

“Don't fucking do that.”

You let him guide your hands back around his neck as he bends down, and without warning, he wrapped his mouth around one of your tits.

"How are you so warm…" he mumbled against your skin, more to himself than you.

Through the thick fabric of his sweatpants, you could feel his erection rubbing against your leg. He was as hard as a rock, rutting more and more rapidly, and you wondered if he would cum untouched. While there was certainly something very flattering about that idea, that wasn't the way you wanted your first time to go with him. You wanted to show him you cared. You wanted to show him just how much you wanted him.

You pushed him gently, and he looked at you with dazed confusion, and a little annoyance, like an animal whose bowl of food had been taken away.

You gave him a small kiss on the top of his head to appease him before bending down and falling to your knees. You gently pushed his pants down, exposing boxers with a large stain of precum, the outline of his dick pressing against the material with desperation.

"Hey, wait, what are you..."

"Shh," you smiled up at him, "you talk too much."

If the restaurant patrons hadn't heard your hushed and whispered moans, there was absolutely no way they hadn't heard the ungodly sound that came out of Tomura's mouth when you wrapped your mouth around his length.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck-"

The taste wasn't as bad as you would have expected for someone who changed clothing as little as he did. The smell of musk and sweat wasn't pleasing, and neither was the lemon-scented cleaning product they seemed to have scrubbed the entire bathroom floor with, but god, was it worth it for that face. The skin down to his collarbone was bright red, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull, his lips opened into the first syllable of a curse he couldn't manage to push out.

His thighs started shaking uncontrollably, and even if you were certain this was the first time someone touched him this way, you couldn't help but feel some sort of pride at the idea of unravelling him so quickly. Unintelligible strings of words were the only thing that escaped his lips between raspy breaths, and he let out a deep groan when you licked across the thick vein on the side of his cock.

"H-how many times have you done that before, shit-"

You could already taste fresh precum on your tongue, and you doubled your efforts, determined to make him see stars.

"I'm gonna cum," he barely panted out, grabbing the back of your head savagely, "don't you dare fucking move away."

He was in too deep, the rapid movement of his hips making you gag, but before you could pull away he came, the warm liquid filling your mouth. You coughed, ready to spit it out, but he put his hand on your mouth, his eyes glowing under the fluorescent light of the bathroom stall.

"Swallow" he simply said.

He watched the movement of your throat with utter fascination as you obeyed him, the salty taste burning. He was already getting hard again, the idea of holding so much power over you clearly arousing.

He fell to his knees and kissed you deep, his hands back all over your skin, flickering his tongue against yours as if chasing the taste of his cum in your mouth. Maybe he was right calling himself a pervert. But then, you were also one for liking it.

“Can we… do that again?” he mumbled after a few minutes against your lips, voice strained. Strands of white hair had stuck to the sweat on his forehead, and you pushed them gently to the side. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to stay here forever.

But as the fog of sex dissipated from your mind, you were starting to remember where exactly ‘here’ was.

And exactly how loud you had just both been.

"Tomura…" you swallowed with difficulty, putting a hand on his chest to put some distance between the two of you, "there’s absolutely no way the entire restaurant didn't just hear that. We're in huge trouble. They're going to kick us out as soon as we step out of here."

Oh, God, forget kick you out, what if they were calling the police? Could you get arrested for having sex in a restaurant bathroom? Surely a place like this one had connections all over the city, hell, all over the country! What if they kicked you out of school? What if-

"They can't kick us out if we're gone" Tomura interrupted your rapidly derailing train of thought with a smirk.

"What?", you replied, stunned.

Wordlessly, he pushed the bathroom stall open and headed towards the furthest wall, bare except for a few ornate mirrors and one small window. In one surprisingly agile jump, he grabbed the ledge of the window, pulling it open enough for his body to slide through. He looked back at you from outside, a smug expression on his face.

"We can't just leave without paying for the wine !" you hissed, looking behind you in fear someone had heard the sound of his acrobatics and opened the bathroom door. But there was no one.

"Let them worry about that," he shrugged, "the reservation isn't under my name anyway. At least, not exactly."

"But-" you protested.

"Trust me."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. And deep inside your heart, no matter all the warning flags and unanswered questions, the abandoned arcades and fancy restaurant bathrooms, you knew it was true.

You took his hand.

[stellasvault]

If you don't mind, could I request Hobie with a musician s/o who is super sweet any time they're NOT on stage or performing, but then they get on stage and just fit so well into their stage personality of being absolutely borderline clinically insane? So much so that you can't really even call it a character they're putting on, it's just second nature to them.

[https://youtu.be/NauWxATQisQ?si=k5rGhK-RZ3BwkT9c // adding this to maybe give a more in depth idea of the unhinged act that I can't really put into words right- like the kind of personality of someone you'd want to put under a microscope and inspect, for lack of better wording]

ok so i gotta admit i had a little trouble with this one since the only musical background i have is being a violinist 😭, but i watched the video and i (think) have finally got it LMAO

“light switch”

pairings: hobie brown x gn!musician!reader

warnings: sfw, cursing, nothing else i think..

—————————————————————————

“can’t you wait a while longer?” hobie asked, being his usual stubborn self.

you huffed. you were currently supposed to already be on stage, as there was a hopeful audience waiting for you behind the other side of the curtain.

hobies hands were on your hips, eager to have some more time with you. you loved your boyfriend, but your musical career was more important than a make-out session.

you motioned toward the curtain. “hobie, there’s people who paid good money to come, i’ll see you later, right?” you smiled up at him with a tinge of annoyance in your eyes, trying to warn him this was his last chance.

he put his hands up in surrender. “alrigh’, but i know you’re gonna start cursin’ out that audience, eh?” he chuckled before punching your shoulder softly.

you pursed your lips in disbelief before hobie walked away to get seated in the front of the crowd, his usual spot. he needed to see his favorite person up close, after all.

you patted down your outfit to make sure you looked at the very least presentable. not like it was a formal outfit, anyway. you were wearing a simple graphic tee with cargo pants, you weren’t the type to go all out.

you were pretty casual. very casual. so casual in fact, that there was no need for a grand entrance. you simply flapped the curtain open just enough so that you could face the stage and sit behind your crowd.

it’s not like you were a pop star, but you definitely had some big fans. so it was no surprise that when you appeared, the audience almost fainted. your ears were flooded with claps from dozens of hands and cheers from excited fans.

“alright, alright shut up..” you mumbled, not even bothering to look up at the anxious-for-action audience members. you noticed that what looked like some new people were shocked at your obvious annoyance.

you sighed before looking back up at the people covered in bright concert lights. “shit, let’s do this..” you sighed, “this beginning song is about how fucking mad i am at the people who work at the store and keep asking me if i need help.” you explained with almost no flavor in your voice.

you took in a deep breath, about to begin playing your piano and sing, but there was an interruption.

you didn’t take those very well.

“hey!! i work at the store! ever been to the 24/7 drug store ‘round here? makes more than you, i bet.” a man’s voice lifted from the crowd obnoxiously. the rest of the crowd ‘oohed’ and ‘ahhed’ at his heckle, knowing what happened to the previous ones.

“why don’t you take all that money and shove it up your ass?”

—————————————————————————

you could still hear the echos of the howls of laughter after you had made a comeback from the few hours before. you were now protected with hobie’s loving arms as they wrapped around you, your head on his slowly rising-and-falling chest. you were both sprawled on the bed, exhausted from the loud and bright night you had.

you remembered the look on hobie’s face when he saw you after the show ended.

“bloody hell, didn’t know my darling could be like that..” he said sarcastically, knowing he had seen you like this countless of times. his reaction to your jokes and comments were always priceless.

what made it better was that you were just the sweetest thing off stage. your friends all knew you as the kind one who never held grudges, never judged anyone, or treated everyone like your best friend. on stage, well.. you were just a bit different.

but, you did love your fans. especially your boyfriend.

—————————————————————————

haha this one was definitely shorter than expected 😭

anon, if you want this to be rewritten PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!!

reblogs, likes, & follows are appreciated so much!

thanks for reading!!

•🎧🎧🎧

[roo-bastmoon]

The Long Game

First, let's acknowledge some major mismanagement by BigHit. Then, let's talk about what I think *might possibly* be their long game.

These are just guesses I have right now--I'm not stating facts and my opinions are subject to change as new info becomes available. But come with me for a few minutes...

In early 2022, Jimin's mail was "omitted" four times by BigHit employees, which lead to late insurance premium payments, which led to an on-paper "seizure" of his apartment. The press sat on that news for three months until the day his With You OST dropped and the scandal overshadowed his release. Jimin went to ground, avoided all social media for months. At this time, Jimin's personal information was leaked on the internet, and that was the last time we saw Jikook hang out alone that we know of.

Now in 2023, since Jimin's album FACE dropped, we already know about the sabotaged sales and streams by Hanteo, Billboard, YouTube, and Spotify. There was the issue with his in-ears not working properly during an encore. On top of all that drama, BigHit didn't get all the physicals shipped in time, they didn't playlist his songs for several days, they never sent his songs to radio (that we can see), they made one tweet to acknowledge Jimin's #1 on Hot100 but nothing else--not even a cake like the other solo albums got, they didn't let him film more than two music videos when they did that for their new groups, the press releases about their stocks going up after Hot100 also credited their new groups, and Jimin only had 9 days of uninterrupted promo between other members' works.

Now I am not a conspiracy theorist. I well understand that the military enlistment compressed schedules, and that each member had say in their creative works and promotions. I'm not a manti. But none of the above is a good look. Add up all those fumbles together, and you could make a solid case for mismanagement.

And now today, we see PD Bang on the cover of Billboard (which, OF COURSE, mentioned Blackpink in the same breath).

JUST LOOK AT THE WAY THE STORY IS BEING SHAPED FOR AMERICAN READERS. You see what's happening here? You think SM is gonna get a cover story for their side of the corporate shakedown?

And then there's this little gem:

"If your question is about the possibility of creating an artist like BTS again, the answer is no. However, if you were to ask whether there would be a K-pop artist from HYBE that tops the Billboard Hot 100 chart, my answer would be yes. [Jimin became the first BTS member to achieve this as a solo act on April 3 when his single “Like Crazy” debuted at No. 1.] The experience of managing BTS and operating different labels gave us access to powerful networks, infrastructures and experiences. With these, HYBE can repeat its remarkable results with the help of talented artists.

Okay so before everyone starts rioting online, take a moment, pause, reflect, think about what all might be going on here, behind the scenes, in this very political world of the music business.

Do I think Bang PD screwed Jimin over to score points with Billboard? No, I do not. But neither do I think Jimin's solo effort is anyone's priority but Jimin's.

"HYBE is primarily focusing on leveraging its accumulated expertise in managing and producing acts that consist of multiple members, rather than solo artists or mixed-gender groups in K-pop."

I think no one ever expected Jimin to make it to #1 on Hot100 and industry insiders felt pretty sure the West wouldn't let him stay in the top 10 the next week. Why? Well, partially racism. But mostly it's bad for their bottom line.

If your entire business model is that people pay for radio play and that gets them on your private chart and the private chart leads to more advertisers and awards... and then someone comes along and DOESN'T pay to play and gets to the top of your chart? Nobody needs you. So you HAVE to sabotage them. You absolutely have to change your rules. (I'm just sitting here waiting for Jimin to release his other songs so that Billboard can change their rules to say you can't be on Hot100 if your name starts with J- and ends with -imin.)

Now, it might have been satisfying for us as fans to see BigHit come out swinging and put Billboard on blast for his sake and ours. But they have ZERO. LEGAL. RECOURSE.

Billboard is privately owned and they can make whatever rules they want. They are part of a larger media company that has connections to every media outlet; no one is gonna publish an exposé any time soon, I promise you. We got exactly ONE English-speaking website to write about it and that was it. Everyone in the industry knows what is going on, and no one has the power to do anything much about it.

So what does that mean for the future?

Well... Bang PD just recently paid a HUGE mark up of $26 million to buy Trevor Noah's home out in LA.

And now he's on the cover of Billboard. WHY? Neither of these things will result in any immediate payout for him.

It's a long game.

And frankly, a very old and honored way of doing business. It's how they went up against the big three and it's how they are gonna go up against the West, I feel it in my gut.

Bang PD is getting a home on US soil. He will be paying US taxes. He's making in-roads by being nice with Billboard folks. He's making contacts; he's already had phone calls with Pharrell and Bieber and Grande and Laroi. Some of those are already shaping into collabs. We already know Hybe has set up shop in the US with Scooter at the helm.

Meanwhile, BigHit is adjusting in real time to the new rules around the charts (culling is happening to Yoongi too, so they changed up the check-out process of the BTS US Store). Suddenly there's plenty of focus on promoting via TikTok and other viral social media. They are dipping their toe into AI. They are discussing their own in-house ticketing option. This company is looking toward the future and hedging its bets.

Do I know with any certainty what's up their sleeve?

Absolutely not.

Do I trust any corporation very much?

Nope.

Do I have faith in BTS?

Probably more than anything else in my life, at this point.

So while I have no insider info, I just feel like the company is making very intentional and methodic footholds into the West. They are not complaining or screaming or suing or threatening anyone. They are not badmouthing competitors or whining about unfair deals. They are laying ground on complicated, political in-roads, one step at a time.

The Expo is in 2030. I'd wager by that time, BTS will have conquered the West and have some radio play.

And I think the company believes that in order to do that, they have to make their new groups profitable while BTS serves. They have to survive for the next two years.

When BTS is back, and their dues have been paid, I think they will be unstoppable. I hope they get to work on solo projects AND group projects. I think they will take over every corner of the world, if managed properly.

They just need to do it in a way that also assuages the Western music industry. The American Powers That Be have a chokehold on music and they will demand their pound of flesh somehow.

I strongly suspect BTS will never pay to play. But they will build relationships and find a way to become so interwoven in the cultural fabric that to deny them a place in Western spaces is to be left behind. And they will do it politely, and gently, and come out smelling like a rose.

So before you go off on social media and scream the walls down about neglect (and there WAS some, in my opinion) and abuse (we don't really know that), just take a moment to consider--if they had no legal recourse against Billboard, how can they beat them at their own game?

The best way to defeat an enemy is to make them a friend.

I'm just guessing here, but I think if fans stay loyal, BTS just might have the last laugh, here. I think they got radio scared as hell.

It sucks that Jimin didn't get fair treatment at this time. He is my bias and I feel it like a knife to my own heart. But he DID make history with his #1 and they can never take it away.

So I say give it time. All the people sniggering at him and BTS right now are going to sing a different tune in the future.

My best guess is that this is a long game, and it will require sacrifices that are totally unfair, but in the end... well, as long as BTS has ARMY, they cannot be denied.

Apobangpo.

[cadencejames87]

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Female Stark Reader

Summary: You help Bucky with his nightmares.

Honestly, if you read this, I apologize. It's basically word vomit that could have been trimmed. I focused on areas that didn't need to be focused on and glossed over bits that could have been more in-depth; my brain is all over the place these days.

Word Count: 5.3k

Warnings: House fire, death of a parent, PTSD, talks of trauma, hostage, abuse, sad Bucky, sorry if i missed any

*not beta'd thus any and all mistakes are my own*

~Dividers within story by @firefly-graphics~

"You should have seen his face," Clint mimicked the dumbfounded expression that wavered heavily on Tony's ordinarily know-it-all smug mug when he wandered into Clint's safe house not too long ago. "And all this time he's been hiding you from all of us." Clint sets down a large bowl of popcorn and falls onto the couch with the rest of the team, minus Cap and his wingmen, currently on their way back from an extended mission.

Tony wasn't absent in your life, though he wasn't really present either. You were a surprise after a one-night stand with a pretty face changed his life.

Your mother was a nursing student, waiting tables at night. She enjoyed that most nights were quiet enough to sneak in studies. At least they were until an extremely intoxicated Tony Stark stumbled into her diner seeking shelter from the rain, cover from the paparazzi, and a burger with a side of fries to soak up the alcohol.

You could call it love at first sight since he stopped in every night after until she finally agreed to a date. Your mother knew he was a playboy, nothing near marriage material when they met, yet, a girl could dream. Maybe she might be the one to change his ways. She quickly learned how much the man needed to grow up, and those fantasies soon died, but not before she was pregnant with you.

Though your mother refused to jump into a relationship because of one hurdle, which Tony had been slightly relieved to hear, she accepted his need to be a part of your life. No way would she deny that from either of you. He had been nothing but wonderful to her from the moment they met. He was simply not the right fit at this time, and if they would never be anything more than co-parents, she could not have asked for a better partner in raising you.

Of course, Tony being the man he is, tried to pay for her schooling, debts, and even rent when she found her dream space, for a steal, in the heart of Soho. She would never know it was all his doing. He had bought the brand-new building originally advertised as potential office space, had the interior quickly remodelled, and slipped a flyer into one of her books. He even personally screened each and every one of her neighbours and kept the best unit open, denying all who applied until he saw her name on the list.

She rejected his help in her personal finances, though when it came to you, she planned to do everything 50/50. Naturally, he completely squashed that plan, whether it was pettiness or pride, the moment you took your first breath, he was there 100% for you. He covered medical and dental, paid for the finest education, and spoiled you with toys, clothes and whatever else he could think of, despite your mother's objections over lack of space. His presence in your life wasn't just money; he wanted to be there for every school play, graduation, and birthday, even if it meant sending Happy with a camcorder when he was otherwise engaged. He saved all the videos of every milestone, your art projects, and pictures as you grew up.

When it came to college, he set you up with your own downtown apartment in Vancouver, Canada, after receiving a scholarship to one of the top film schools. {Which you turned down so they could offer it to someone in need and kept that little secret between you and your father.} You graduated after a two-year program and chose to continue your education at Stanford. Tony happily helped you relocate. He was so proud of you for going after what you wanted and knocking it out of the park by getting into another top school. He paid the tuition in full and even bought you a car, despite telling him you could take transit if needed. I mean, you did live within walking distance of campus. Anyway, the years flew by, and you graduated with a major in astrophysics and made your way back home to NYC, where you picked up a job as a barista, refusing any more handouts while searching for a more permanent job that fit either of your studies without your father's influence. You wanted to prove you could make it on your own.

After the attack on New York, Tony started rethinking everything. He wanted to keep you safe, which meant protecting the world from more attacks. Maybe he would convince you to work in Stark Tower or a new building he could have built overnight. He also began re-evaluating his current relationship with your mother. Was there hope to rekindle what could have been? A near-death experience will do that to a man. He was finally ready to quit his partying ways and take things more seriously, and all of this over Shawarma with the team.

As he flew over Washington Square Park down Broadway, he could already see the dark clouds of smoke filling Soho. Sirens of fire rescue ring out as people run for safety, shouting about an explosion, bombs, and aliens. Stark makes it through the thick smoke and fights through the flames of your mother's building, searching desperately for her. He finds her in the bathtub, covered in a wet towel, choking on the smoke. Against Friday's advice, Tony removes his suit, places her inside, and sends her out the window.

He scrambles back through the apartment to find the entrance blocked by debris. He searches blindly for the window to the fire escape and breaks out, basically falling down the steps as he scrambles to his escape. As he drops the last couple of feet to the pavement below the fire escape ladder, he searches the street filled with emergency vehicles and first responders. He spots your mother on a gurney receiving oxygen, climbs to his feet and hurries over with a faint limp. The EMT nursing her burns gives him a grim look. “We have to transport her immediately. It doesn’t look good.”

“Well, what’s the holdup?” Tony helps load the gurney and climbs in, taking her hand in his. “Hey, sweetheart. We’re going to get you help, okay? You are so strong! Just hold on a little longer, for our daughter; for me. I love you.” He brushes her hair with his hand and kisses her forehead softly.

“Tony?” She pulls her oxygen mask down to speak. “Take care of our girl,” she breaks into a coughing fit, and the EMT jumps into action, pushing Tony aside to suction mucus and intubate. Tony watches on, eyes filling with tears, feeling helpless as the mother of his daughter, the woman he loves, fights to breathe. The EMT keeps an eye on all the monitors as he pumps air manually into her lungs. When the heart monitor flat lines, Tony feels his own heart stop. He can’t seem to breathe, there's a ringing in his ears. The EMT yells at Tony to take over so he can start compressions.

After your mother’s funeral, you distanced yourself. Tony figured it was probably for the best. How could he keep you safe if his enemies ever figured out who you were to him? The building you grew up in had only been a target as it was a property owned by Stark.

Unfortunately, some enemies were closer than he realized. They knew of you and your mother and why her death hit him so hard that even those closest to him struggled to keep him sober. You were grateful he had Pepper when you disappeared while he was still mourning. However, you didn’t know it until Cap carried your limp body from a room he had seen before, a replica of one he dragged his best friend from before losing him on a mission. He blamed himself for years after for roping Bucky back into the fight. Learning what really happened when they were reunited did nothing for the guilt.

Once Tony finished clearing the building and made it on the jet, you told him you did not want to go home or to the tower, expressing your fear those who took you would know that is where you would be. You needed space and time. Tony understood that, yet his need to keep you safe outweighed everything else. He settled you into a room at the new compound, freshly reconstructed from the old Stark Industries warehouses. You witnessed the evolving relationship between Tony and Pepper as Stark Tower was gradually moved into the new facility before the Avengers would call it home. You loved the impact Pepper had on your father, and seeing him in this new light, taking on more responsibilities, with a newfound passion for his work and the positive changes saving people had created in his demeanour.

It was possible his over joyous personality was in reaction to finally having you home after being gone for three years and presumed dead right after losing your mother. You hated to ruin it, yet you failed to feel comfortable enough to speak about what you went through to anyone, not a therapist, Happy, or your father, who used to be one of your best friends, other than your mother. Ultimately, you decided to distance yourself further from this new life he had built. Whether it was the fear of falling victim again to one of his enemies or just the space and time you needed; without Tony encroaching. He gave you what you needed and set you up in a cabin in the countryside of upstate New York. Naturally, the whole proximity was wired with motion sensors and hidden cameras and had a few suits as security measures stowed in the garage.

Tony still popped in occasionally to catch you up on Avenger gossip, including the falling out with Steve, who you kept in touch with over text. You understood both sides, though if you were to choose whose back you would have, it would be the man used as a weapon, held hostage and tortured for years.

They were unprepared to lose you again so soon when Thanos snapped away everything he fought mercilessly to defend. Though, Tony wouldn't know for sure if you had been victim to the snap for nearly a month after. So when he finally got you back, he promised to hold on tight. You had a new sister and finally sat down to thank Pepper for being there for your father and being just what he needed to keep going all these years.

You all stayed together in the cabin, though you migrated to the studio above the garage, where you often escaped to craft dreamcatchers; a craft you learned in your early childhood from your mother who had learned from her mother. Your studio sessions started with one for yourself when you struggled to sleep before the snap, and another for Tony, when he opened up about his anxiety after you returned. Then one for Morgan, when you caught her admiring one hung in a studio window. One your mother crafted, kept safe in your Chelsea apartment when the fire wiped away everything, pictures, baby clothes, art, report cards, your mother's memories of a life before you, and dreamcatchers she made every year of your life; even the ones you crafted alongside her. After a short conversation with Pepper over tea under the stars, in which she complimented the beauty of your dream catchers and what a shame it was that more people couldn't enjoy them, you made over two dozen more for a farmer’s market.

Tony popped into the studio for his daily chit-chat, wandering the room and appreciating the collection of dreamcatchers hanging all over. “Word on the street is the Capsicle is planning on jumping ship again after this mission.” You had been the one to convince him to stay when no one else could, not even his best friend. Though you had your suspicions, he never really tried, and you planned to ask him when you finally met him.

Now you are sitting in the Avengers compound, getting to know the team and waiting on the man of the hour. Except when he finally walks in with his team, your attention falls to the brunette on his flank. Something about him seemed so familiar, his face, those eyes, that walk. Had you seen it all somewhere before? I mean, you knew of the man from stories and history lessons. In more recent years, the news and Tony's personal ghost stories. Also, Steve had come to visit, the only Avenger who knew of your existence, and of course, he shared a few memories from both the past and present of Sergeant Barnes. He said Tony might be a little indifferent, less sympathetic than he should be, considering their history. He only wanted to give you a chance to hear how he saw him, and when the day came, you could form your own opinion.

As far as first impressions go, he has yet to say hi, and you are drooling over this God of a man. Nope, no, down girl! You take a moment to glance around the room, hoping no one noticed your internal freak out just then. When your eyes return to James, he freezes. He looks at his friend for help, but Steve obliviously continues on as Bucky searches for an escape. He swallows, eyes falling to the floor as he backs away, glancing up with sad eyes once more before turning back the way he came. What the hell was that? “Y/N, I’m sorry about the outfit. I wanted to come and say hi as soon as we touched down. This is Sam.”

Sam smiles flirtatiously, takes your hand, and bows to kiss it. “Down, birdman! That’s Stark’s daughter.” Banner warns.

Sam backs away, hands up in surrender as Tony stares him down. You smile politely and look back to the empty hall. “I was only saying, hi. Besides, I think Cap’s already called dibs with how much he gushes over her.”

“You realize I’m right here.” Stark questions Sam, who immediately mimes zipping his mouth closed and tossing away an invisible key.

“I’m sorry about him. He was raised in a different time.” You turn back to find Steve giving you a shy smile. “And what he said, I never—”

“It’s fine. Don’t worry about it, Steve.” Your eyes move to the hall again.

“Oh, and this is…” Steve finally realizes Bucky is no longer with them. “Well, if you saw him, that was Bucky. I promise he is the sweetest person you will ever meet. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

“Not even his own face.” Steve shoots Sam a look. “You know what I'm talking about. That staring thing he does. Where it looks like he wants to kill you.” He turns to the others in the room as he searches for backup, quickly finding it as Nat shrugs and nods back. Steve gives them both a look of disapproval.

"Alright, that's enough. You're going to kill Grandpa.” Tony jokes as he pushes through the group to meet Scott and his tray of milkshakes. “The burgers?”

“Almost done, Mr. Stark. Thanks again for inviting me.” Scott sets the tray on the coffee table and rushes back to the kitchen, wiping his hands on his frilly apron.

"Was that Ant-Man?" You ask in confusion.

"Don't worry, he's getting paid." Tony looks over at Banner and shakes his head.

"Dad?!"

"The point is, he is enjoying himself, and he offered."

After the brief intros, Sam and Steve excused themselves to unload the jet, write their mission reports and freshen up before dinner. When they returned, Bucky was still nowhere to be seen. “Don’t take it personally. He gets in these grumpy old man moods after missions. You’ll meet him soon.” Nat settles in next to you before Steve has a chance.

“I’m not –”

“You were obviously keeping an eye out for Barnes. It's totally fine. You should know he and Sam are in your wing.” You turn quickly, brows furrowed. “It used to be Steve, Clint and myself and one empty room. Well, not empty. It was decorated and off limits, and now we know why.”

“Where did you go?”

“Clint’s not here as often as he used to be, so when Sam joined, he moved to one of the loft spaces on the upper floors. Then we found Barnes, and I gave up my space when he moved in, thought it would be an easier transition after everything.”

You stayed up as long as you could with everyone, but you were pretty tired after a long day of driving, and the anxiety of just being back in the city was exhausting. You slipped out of the room as everyone watched their second movie of the night after dinner and wandered the halls.

As you approached your room, a terrifying sound had you spinning fast and your most traumatic memories flooding back. Memories you had repressed. It was an all too familiar scream. One filled with anguish and fear. You stood frozen against the wall next to your room, staring wide-eyed at the door across from yours. The screams echoed in your memory as they faded in reality and turned into soft whimpers. You felt your trembling legs step forward before you could stop yourself. You took a deep breath and leaned gently against the door, listening.

You heard shuffling and then footsteps, pacing back and forth and suddenly growing louder as they came closer. You scrambled back and tried to flee into the safety of your room, but your back hit the wall again, and you stared up at Bucky as he stepped into the hallway. The much smaller than you remembered a second ago, hallway. “Sorry."

"I didn’t mean to scare you.” His eyes avoid yours as he escapes to the common area down the hall with his head hanging low. You hear the kitchen sink turn on and water filling a glass. Your heart rate finally returns to normal, as you let out the breath you had been holding. You scold yourself and turn to your room, dragging yourself to bed.

The following weeks went on with Bucky avoiding you while you continued to get to know the team. Your sleep schedule was thrown off completely, waking each night to Bucky's screams, mind racing with your own traumas while wanting so desperately to reach out and comfort him. You never did, of course, instead, you kept your distance and gave him his space. When you woke in the middle of the night, you turned to your dreamcatchers.

Meanwhile, for the ex-assassin, most nights were filled with cold showers and sitting alone in the dark with his thoughts, shivering; like he was punishing himself. Other nights, he would find himself in the training room, lifting weights and doing pull-ups until his muscles screamed. And some nights, Steve would keep him company and remind him there was no way he would have done any of the things Hydra made him do without being tortured and lied to. It wasn’t really what he wanted to hear or could even believe, no matter how many times anyone told him. Those nights usually ended with an early morning run.

He still remembers his years with Hydra vividly, the terrified cries and screams, titanium wrapped tightly around innocent throats, lifeless eyes, blood, so much blood, fire, gunshots, explosions. He was hyperventilating when you walked into the common area. Having a full-on panic attack as he stared at his hands, shaking, and mumbling, “It was still me. It was still me. It was still me.”

“Bucky?” You approach him slowly, unsure if you were being cautious for his sake or yours. You clear your throat, ”James?”

He freezes slightly, eyes watching from the corner, trained on your feet as you round the couch. He presses his back further into the sofa behind him, hands gripping the floor beneath him for purchase.

You pause at the corner, looking down at the broken man on the floor. “I am James Buchanan Barnes. Sergeant with the 107th, 32557038. I am James Buchanan Barnes.” You slowly kneel next to him. His rambling fades lower. “3255…” His eyes dart to you and back at the floor. “70…” You scoot a little closer. “38.” He wills himself to look at you. “I’m sorry,” his whisper comes out shaky, eyes filled with tears. “I’m so sorry.” You shake your head and pull him into a tight hug. He clutches onto your shirt and cries into your chest. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” You rub his back.

“They made me take you.”

You brush your fingers through his hair. “I know.”

He pulls away to look you in the eyes. “I’m sorry.”

You wipe his tears. “I forgive you.” He breaks again, this time though, it is relief that fills his eyes before he buries it back into your shoulder and holds onto you for dear life. He cries himself to sleep, and you continue to hold on, leaning your cheek on the top of his head.

Sam and Steve enter the kitchen in need of water, Sam panting as he downs his glass. Steve smiles at his friend as he leisurely sips his own. Steve opens his mouth to poke fun at Sam’s endurance when a deep sleep-filled breath grabs their attention. “I got him, I’m sure you need a moment to catch your breath,” Sam says sarcastically and sets his glass in the sink before crossing to the living area.

Steve lets out a soft chuckle. “I could use a shower,” he shrugs.

“Steve.” Sam stares down at the two of you still wrapped in each other’s arms, though you are now snuggled into Bucky's chest as he leans into the corner of the sectional, protectively holding onto you. “Sorry, man,” Sam apologizes to Steve as he joins him.

"It's like our childhood all over again."

"Maybe there's a reasonable explanation for this."

"Either way, Tony's not going to like it," Steve says with a shake of his head.

"Not going to like what?" It comes out in a raspy whisper as you stretch and look back at the men over your shoulder. They stand in shock, unsure how to proceed. You look around, realizing where you are and then look at the man beneath you. "Oh, right." You quickly get up, "Let's just not tell Tony." You push past both men as you make a mad dash for your room, hiding your face as it burns with embarrassment.

Bucky startles awake with the slam of your door. He lets out an exasperated sigh as he climbs to his feet, “I’m not going for a run.”

“Neither are we.” They keep a close eye on him as he crosses to the kitchen.

“You know I could have killed you, standing over a guy as he sleeps, lucky I wasn't armed," he mumbles. "What’s wrong with you?” He grumbles as he grabs himself a protein bar from the cupboard.

“I have the same question for you. Your best friend pines over a girl for years, and we find you wrapped up in an embrace, sleeping with the woman of his dreams out in the open.” 

“Seriously?” Steve stares at Sam like he revealed his deepest secret.

“It’s not like she’s in the room, man.”

“We’re not sleeping together, and it wasn’t a romantic embrace or any other kind of embrace. We were... She--" He lets out a frustrated groan. "Never mind, you wouldn’t understand.” Bucky exits the room before they can say anything more.

Sam turns to Steve, still staring at him. “What?! Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Maybe we read into it.” 

The following night Steve woke with Bucky, and instead of sitting with him in the living room, he suggested they hit the gym.

You turned to your dream catchers, the newest wrapped in black suede, weaved with black sinew and gold beads. It was time to add feathers, and you couldn’t decide if you should add navy blue and red or even gold to the bunch of black feathers you had already carefully selected.

“I can’t do this anymore. I need a shower.” Bucky turns to leave.

“Come on, Buck.”

“No, you want to talk, let's talk. Stop pretending this is anything more than that.” 

“Bucky, I’m just trying to help.”

"No, you're upset with what you saw yesterday and I know, I heard you and Sam talking, if Tony would have walked in, I wouldn't have woken up." He grabs a towel from the bench. “Maybe it would have been for the best. None of this changes anything.” He storms out and returns to his room, though just as he steps into the hallway, he is hit with a fond memory. One of hardly any he has of his time with Hydra, he leans into the memory, drawn closer to your soft, melodic humming.

You lay on your back in the tall grass, watching a meteor shower. “You know you’ll get in trouble if they find out.”

“Their torture is better than hearing you go on and on for weeks on end about a bunch of stardust,” he grumbles from his perch behind you on the back of a quad. Successfully masking the fact he enjoyed your company and the show in the sky.

“That’s not true,” you whisper, “you forget they have me observe and—” You sit up, hugging yourself. “I know you have nightmares.”

He snaps a branch he had been absentmindedly fiddling with. “We should head back.”

You quickly turn around on your knees, “No, please. I don’t want to go back, not yet.” You spot the discarded branch and pick it up. “I can make you something. It will help with your nightmares.” Your chin quivers as you fight to hold back your tears.

He checks over his shoulder, sighing heavily when he turns back and gives you a quick nod.

You take the lantern next to Bucky and comb the beach for materials, Bucky sticking close to your side. You find plenty of feathers scattered along the pebbles and grass. You kneel on the ground in your tattered skirt, wincing as the varying rocks and debris dig into your skin. “What are you doing?” You look up, studying the man above you for a moment, and then you return to the pebbles, “I need one last thing. Do you see these bits of colour? It’s sea glass. I love these pretty blue ones, my favourite colour.” You hold up a small piece of glass the same colour as his eyes.

He catches the blush tinting your cheeks before you can hide your face and kneels beside you on one knee. “How many do you need?”

“I need one red one, but it has to be at least this big.” You hold up your thumb and forefinger about the size of a dime. “It’s the most important piece.” Bucky sweeps a hand through the pebbles and helps you search. “You keep looking, I’ll get this started.” You tuck the feathers into your sleeve as you pick at a loose thread on your skirt. In spite of your careful movements, the thread breaks, and yet you continue to collect more. When you finally gathered what you needed, there was a wide slit into your skirt. You knot the ends together, blow out the candle in the lantern, and dip the material into the wax.

“Are you done?” Bucky feigns annoyance as he relights the lantern and moves it closer to himself, a safe distance from you.

You let out a quiet giggle. “Two questions, do you trust me? And can I borrow a couple of things?” You cautiously reach for the tact knife on his thigh. Bucky eyes your hand and readjusts his position, pushing his thigh into your palm as he rakes his fingers through the pebbles again, seeking a suitable piece of sea glass. “I don’t understand why you need all of these straps,” you take hold of one of the offending straps on his tact suit and bring up the knife. You look at him for consent. His jaw clenches as he gives you the same quick nod he did when he agreed to stay longer. Watching you from the corner of his eye as you gently cut through the leather strap and unfasten the other end. “I need one more.” He gives you better access and you repeat your actions as he returns to his search. When you finish with his knife, you place it back in the sheath and gather all your materials.

You wander back to your spot in the grass, humming a tune and get to work. Picking up the discarded branches, you braid them, form a circle, and tie the ends together with the waxed thread. You wrap the branches with the leather straps and begin to weave a web within the circle of wrapped branches with the waxed thread already attached. Bucky makes his way back to you, keeping quiet so as not to disturb you. “Did you find it?” He holds out a perfect piece of sea glass, larger than a dime, maybe even a nickel. Your smile fills him with warmth, and he struggles to hide the twitch of his lip. You'll never know he found plenty of red bits that he deemed unsuitable. Whatever piece he found needed to be perfect, like you in his eyes.

Clearing his throat, he stands and returns to his perch on the back of the quad, taking out his tact knife to pass the time. You wrap the sea glass into the final weaves, knotting the end in the web and securing the sea glass a little more until you run out of thread. You let out a huff as you hold out the dream catcher. “It’s not the greatest, but, it should do.”

Bucky takes the dream catcher, admiring the finished product. “What do I do with it?”

“Smuggle it back in and hang it by your bed.”

“They won’t let me keep it.”

“Hide it under your pillow?” You shrug.

 “What about here?” He opens his jacket and tucks the dreamcatcher close to his heart.

“Well, I guess the straps are good for something.” You smirk.

“You can come inside if you like.” You heard him, thought he would return to his room, but his footsteps slowed and altogether stopped between your rooms.

“I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

“You’re not.”

“Did you make all these?” You nod. “Gorgeous.” His fingers brush the feathers attached to one of the dream catchers. “Softer than mine.”

“You remember it?”

“It gave me hope,” he moved to your bed and sat down. “When I helped you escape, left you at that facility,” he swallows a lump in his throat. “They stripped me down to wipe me, found it in my gear. They took it and burned it in front of me.” His eyes filled with tears. “I used to look at it every night. Hid it under my pillow, like you said. Carried it with me everywhere.”

“Did it help?”

He nods. "It reminded me of you. A bright light in all that darkness.”

You turn back to your desk, pick up the dream catcher you were working on, and join Bucky on the end of your bed. ”I didn’t think you made it out of there with the other.” You hand him the new dream catcher, inspired by his new arm, the black and navy-blue feathers hung with gold sinew and red beads to tie in his new tact suit. “And you can actually hang this one without fear of anyone confiscating it.”

The tears fall freely as he accepts the gift. He tries to give you a smile, sniffles and wipes away the tears with the back of his hand. “Thank you.”

You pull him in for a hug. “I can make you a small one for your keys that you can carry everywhere.”

“I won’t need it, I’ve got you.”

“Do you now?”

“I’ve also got this.” He removes a small object from his pocket, the sea glass he found. He takes your hand and places it inside. “It’s not blue.”

“This one is more special. You found it.”

"For you."

You turn the glass over in your hand. "Did you know that penguins search for the perfect pebble to gift to their love?" You turn to kiss him softly, you meant to aim for his cheek, and he looked up last minute. When you pull away, he follows and deepens the kiss.

Steve lifts his hand to knock on your door, pausing when a soft moan escapes your lips. “James.” His heart breaks as he tears himself away from your door. I guess his best friend is willing to risk it all for you, and this moment is what solidifies his choice to go back in time.

[adventures-in-asexuality]

End-of-year ramblings

Video games

Yeah, okay, let's start here. Obviously I played a truly inexplicable very explicable amount of FFXIV this year, and will continue to do so (can't believe Dawntrail will be dropping next year; we've stuck at it through all the waits between patches).

Baldur's Gate 3 was fun; I didn't expect to play it, but so many people I know loved it that I had to try, and I'm glad I did.

The same really goes for Cyberpunk 2077; honestly most of what I like about the game is the experience of it, rather than the stories. Whoosh! Zoom! Neon and doublejumping!

The other major new game this year for me was Mask of the Rose; I really loved it! I think the post-release patches helped it a lot as a game, but honestly I was hooked right from the beginning. (This was probably the start of the series of events that got a friend playing Sunless Skies/me replaying Sunless Skies/me returning to Fallen London and accidentally convincing some friends to also do so. No regrets.)

Music

Big album this year has to be Bury the Lede by Dessa. I was going to listen and enjoy it no matter what, but I really do like the way a lot of the songs resonate with growing older, still having all the same big feelings, but being way too tired to deal with them in any kind of high-octane way. What if I'm Not Ready in particular really tugs at something in me.

I'm not sure I have more new music this year; I've been a bit disconnected from everything, mostly listening to music when someone hurls links my way. Maybe next year!

Books

I read a lot of books this year, as ever, but the vast majority have been rereads; I've been quite low on book recs again. Here's a few of the new ones - I won't cover all of them because I don't have that kind of patience. (Counted - 33 new ones - which, compared to the sheer number of rereads, is low.)

She Who Became the Sun/He Who Drowned the World by Shelley Parker-Chan were a fun pair of books, about a girl who steals her brother's name and destiny when he dies so that she can shape the world/become the emperor. I liked some of the gender vibes you get in this - Zhu Yuanzheng's gender is never really defined, but also never at all fits in a binary mould. A lot of the second book, however, felt a bit extraneous and a bit gratuitous in various directions. Overall, I think this is a rec for reading the first one and skipping the second.

Camp Damascus by Chuck Tingle - everyone reading this probably already knows, but yeah, this is good. There's always something special to me about stories about queer kids in fundamentalist Christian churches - sure, it's usually American churches, but it's still a commonality that resonates powerfully with me. Read it.

Somewhere in summer I read all of Tana French's murder mysteries. I quite liked the Dublin Murder Squad books - nothing special but fun - but I honestly really disliked her two later standalones. The politics in them just set my teeth on edge a bit - The Wych Elm's protagonist is so dismissive about disability that, while I know it's part of his characterisation, it still left a bad taste in my mouth; The Searcher's protagonist has some views on politeness and morality that just make me sigh. (Rec for the murder squad books if you, like me, just really like murder mysteries.)

The Stone Gods by Jeanette Winterson: every year I'll read one more of her books, I guess. They're always good. They always haunt me.

Translation State by Ann Leckie was good; of course it was. I think it comes with my biggest overall caveat for an Ann Leckie book (I really wish Qven and Reet's subplot had ended differently; I know it was written as a metaphor for something else, but I read and resonated with it as a metaphor for aceness, which the ending doesn't leave space for) but it was still great. And we saw Sphene again!!

TV/film

Not much this year; my brain hasn't been in the right space for it.

Watched the Evangelion rebuild - I still haven't seen the original series so this was an interesting experience. I'm not really sure what my takeaway from it was, or what exactly I watched (apart from giant photorealistic Rei - we watched the fourth film in the cinema, so it was truly giant) but hey, I get more references now.

That same group of miscreants has been watching Lexx - seriously, do not watch this. It's rancid. It's so bad we have lost the ability to evaluate media, because everything else is good compared to it. Awful. Terrible. 15 more hours to go until we're free. I'm not going to describe it because the descriptions sound interesting and it is a terrible show. Never watch it. Strangle anyone who tries to make you.

Almost forgot, but I think this was the year I watched Yellowjackets - phenomenal even when your point of comparison isn't Lexx. I'm waiting for the third season with bated breath. It's so good. It's so awful. It's breaking my heart. Please watch this immediately and then come scream with me.

I'm also making my way through Young Pope, which - I don't know if I'd say that I'm enjoying it, but it is certainly doing things to my brain. It resonates with me in a similar way to Camp Damascus; even though they're on very different areas of the right-wing Christian spectrum, the fundamental beliefs and desires and angers and fears and reactions are the same.

Heaven's Official Blessing Season 2 finally happened!!! I'm still working my way through it - the friend I watch with has had no time this year, so we're using the holidays for it - but, oh, I love this book and these characters so much.

More personal stuff

Work has actually been quite bad this year; I've largely been on a project that's gotten worse and worse as the year goes on, in a way I fundamentally cannot fix but have to try to anyway. I've been circling between 'I hate this, I should job search' and 'I'm so bad at everything, only this job would put up with me' and 'at least wfh doesn't mean I'm in danger of losing it'. By Easter or so, I should be free from it at last, so I'll keep an eye out and hopefully things will even out again.

Home has, however, been a lot better. I moved towns at the end of last year to somewhere that has more friends and a more walkable town centre (and much cheaper rent) and it's been an excellent choice. Only having to walk five minutes or so to get to a shop or see a friend has meant that I've been able to practise walking five minutes or so (whereas in my last place, it was a walk then a twenty-minute bus ride just to the town centre) - and that in turn has meant that I've been able to build that up bit by bit, and occasionally run headlong into my limits in the process.

It's been a bit of a weird holiday season in particular for me this year, laced with grief and memories. Hosting a Christmas dinner and cooking with several other people felt right in a way it's hard to really put words to, and also reminded me very strongly of my grandmother. Her house was always a gathering place for all the family, as well as a refuge; it's eight or nine years since I last set foot inside it and yet I could still tell you the layout of her kitchen, the mnemonic for the bank of eight light switches in the hallway, the warmest place in winter and the coolest place in summer. Nowhere I've lived before has been nice enough for people to visit often, let alone to cook in or to know their way around; cooking and organising with people, seeing them remember locations and extend tables and understand the hob, soothes something it is difficult to explain.

Next year, then:

I hope to have somewhat more brain and less exhaustion (I've been so tired all year, which is tedious as fuck).

I hope for many of my friends to have considerably better years, and that the rest will continue to have good years. (I am threatening the years with a knife until they are kind to all of you.)

I hope to continue to shape this flat into somewhere pleasant to be, and persuade people to be there from time to time.

I hope to get a better idea of my work situation when I'm not on a horrible project.

I hope that the GIC might at least tell me that I'm on a waiting list!

I intend to find a tangible creative hobby one way or the other (taking suggestions as long as you can present a use case for the hobby; Queenie keeps suggesting knitting in the abstract).

And, as always, I hope to love more freely, be kinder and more helpful, and to try to build a future that has space for me.

[twin-books]

Speaking of other topics.

I found one of my absolute favorite shows of all time on complete accident. It's all thanks to Drew Gooden and IDOLiSH7 (also a very good show).

IDOLiSH7 is a very nice feel-good idol anime. I adore it. It makes me unreasonably happy. It's based on a game of the same name that happens to be a rhythm game. They even have official music videos of their songs which I immediately found every single one of and watched them.

Then less than a month ago I finally watched that Drew Gooden video about Guitar Hero. I have never once played Guitar Hero and I barely watch Drew Gooden because I have like an endless list of YouTuber's I'm subscribed to that I just cycle through so this was at random.

But I guess watching that one video about Guitar Hero onto of all those IDOLiSH7 music videos had the YouTube algorithm go "Hmmm... she must really like rhythm games" and it recommended me one rhythm game based YouTube video. It immediately gave up on showing me anymore afterwards because I guess it realized I don't actually care too much about them. I just really like music.

But luckily this one video had this absolute banger of a song that someone had put into the rhythm game and tried to match the game to the beat. I freaking adored this song but it didn't give the name of the artist, just the title of the song so I told myself I'd like the video and then look into it later.

I completely forgot about it until a week later where I was looking through my liked songs on YouTube Music and saw one with a thumbnail of two animesque boys. I literally could not remember what this video was so I clicked it and then I saw it was that rhythm game. But I wondered why on earth these two dudes were the thumbnail when they were absolutely no where in the video.

So that song was Dive Back in Time from the first opening of the donghua, Link Click. I looked it up, saw that the same two anime-like dudes were on the album cover and thought to myself, "Huh, is this like a game or something?" The song was completely in English which threw me through a loop.

So I looked up Link Click, realized it was a donghua, then immediately looked up the opening this song was attached to because I figured based on the song title it had to be something about time travel.

Here's a fun fact about me... I absolutely adore time travel for a story narrative. It's so fun. But good time travel content is extremely hard to find because apparently it's super easy for people to absolutely screw up this amazingly creative and fun premise.

With that being said, I was willing to do just about anything to figure out if this was not only a time travel show but a good time travel show. So I watched the season 1 opening and it gave me absolutely no clues whatsoever. Absurdly unhelpful without context.

Yeah, I turned to wikipedia for the answers. And yes, it was about time travel and the premise sounded so gosh darn amazing. Here's the wikipedia synopsis;

After finding this I realized there was apparently a season 2 so out of pure curiosity I looked up the season 2 opening. It's called VORTEX. Amazing. If nothing else this show would be full of gorgeous animation and breath-taking music.

I immediately hit up @koo1creations. She is also an avid enjoyer of some good time travel stories and she also adores sci-fi which time travel stories tend to fall under so we were hyped. We also both took the same short animation course when we were young so we absolutely adore animation and we both adore music. This show looked like an absolute winner.

So like fools, Monday night we started Link Click fully intending to stop at like 4 episodes. Ha. Nope, absolutely not. We loved it too much, we binged the whole first season. Tuesday night we binged what was out of season 2. Thankfully for us there was only 2 episodes left of season 2 to be released as soon as we finished it.

I cannot begin to give this show the praise it deserves. Season 1 is still the best so far, I'd say. But season 2 is still very good. It's such a fun show full of twists and turns. It really makes you think and it's full of nuances. The animation and style is gorgeous, the music is amazing, the characters are intriguing, and the story is addicting.

So thank you Drew Gooden and IDOLiSH7 for like my new number 1 favorite show. Gotta be the best way I have ever actually found anything I liked. I have had many times where I had quite a few hoops I had to jump through to find another thing I liked but this one takes the cake.

[borathae]

Chapter 29

Or maybe it is the knowledge that just three staircases below you and behind far too many doors, Taehyung was still standing chained up in a cold, lonely room. :(

Why does it feel like no time had passed and yet at the same time as if far too much time had passed? yeah i mean time skip exists lol but fr mood

Or maybe it is this dreadful smell, which has been ever so present in your room. Like oakwood and myrrh. You hate this smell. It is not a particularly bad smell as for example rotten eggs or spoiled milk, instead you really hate the memories you are starting to connect with it. where did we smell oakwood before

Maybe on other days you would have called it beautiful, but not anymore. noo :(

Running comes hard for you and yet that is all you can do right now. Run and run and run and run away from the heartbreak. everything hurts 😭😭 *plays life is worth living

oh kook is leaving 😭😭😭 our boi grew up and is now moving out

omg the dark voices calling us again, is it kook? or someone else? also why is that smell there? is one of them so upset to the point its stinking for a human like her? is it tae? another prisoner?

whats going on ANSWER HER QUESTIONS ASSHOLE

t is so quiet in this room that one could hear a needle hit the floor. teachers would kill for this

HOBI I LOVE YOU

oh jin who was it? or do u not remember ? DID U FUCKING HURT TAE??? NO NO U DID NOT YOONGI U MOTHERFUKER *sighs *reads the list 3 times

PERIOD BOO WE ARE BITCHSLAPPING EVERYONE AT THIS POINT “His silence? That is all you had? Taehyung has been refusing to talk for weeks. His silence means nothing.” FUCKING REAL

HOBI I LOVE YOU PT2 (hold on i have lost count actually) at this point FUCK EVERYONE, hobi lets hold hands and walk into the sunset bye

WDYM no he didnt YOONGI? U COULD HAVE SAID THIS IDK A FEW DAYS AGO??? MONTHS AGO???

“She is still alive. She begged them to turn her and so Jimin did.” LE GASP (totally didnt see everyone talking about emma, yeah never saw that) ok i knew she may or may not exist, but i didnt know she become a gluten

20 PEOPLE DAMN fuck they could have planned it better are we going to see her anytime soon?

huh whats going on? see for yourself??

You are on a dirty cobblestone street. It smells of rotting flesh and feces. You gag, covering your nose with your hand to fight off the stench. Gloves? You look at them, then down your body. A corset? A long dress? Why are you wearing clothes of a different century? ohh we are seeing memories SHE FOR THE COBBLESTONES (sorry i had to lol)

“Be grateful. You don’t want this burden”, Yoongi says coldly, is it referring to burden as in unable to forget bad memories and bad memories/nightmares being too realistic and detailed?

We remember things that are important to us, the rest we forget piece by piece until we wander on empty streets and pass by unknown shadows.” hmm guess there is a price to for soo many memories, even our memories become less detailed over time, videos turning into picture like memories, forgetting their voice, favorite stuff etc

why are we in a hurry? its ur memories right? does it do something to him? yeah hobi's right, where is our body and what is it doing?? is the smell coming from the dead people?

wow yoongi is immersed in the memory, no wonder he wanted to hurry It frightens Emma, forcing her to make one wrong move noo

NOO JIN LEFT WHATS GOES ON MAN “I don’t know. You always have an answer” fr mood, this reminded me of mom, cuz i always say this to her lol

“No you won’t”, Yoongi stops you FUCK OFF THIS HAPPENED CUZ U ALLOWED IT AND DIDNT SAY THIS BEFORE AND NO U DONT ALLOW HER TO TALK TO TAEHYUNG wow he really has the audacity to use tae as a leverage

“You’ll be grateful once you understand” yeah ik i will, and then i will simp over you at that time, until then let me be angry at you pookie

sibi what have you done to me why am i sweating over a fiction 😭😭 why am i seeing brown filters and balls in my dreams? why are you giving me mood swings from simping too hard 😽 to crying over cuteness overload😻 and angst😿 to pissed off 😾to happy happy happy😸

oh no we are at his wing 😭😭😭 is jimin coming back?😭when will he come back? i only got to cry over for him for a few paragraphs and then bam im crying over his death

Although the moon is the only thing illuminating your path this paragraph is so good, idk what to say cuz im busy being nostalgic over that stargazing night oh yeah the portrait 😭 THE BEIGE JUMPER 😭😭😭 u are really coming for my tears huh OH NO THE SURPRISE dont look LOOK AT IT dont look LOOK AT IT noo he painted her 😭😭fuck no

the date, its soo sweet and cute UFKC u should have written it before his death it would be more cute then tear jerker (but that was the plan huh? u cute lil shit i love you, my emotions are a mess and i love this universe soo much, i wanna exist in it, actually u write so well,it is easily able to feel like u are her, without being a personality less character)

It is just how you had imagined it. Taehyung remembered. no no no 😭😭 free him please

her outburst is truly understandable but some stuff is untrue, but again she is not in a good state of mind she is beyond pissed

wow im really sniffling

oh kook is leaving 😭😭😭 our boi grew up and is now moving out

like he is actually moving closer to us and yet it's so sad that he moves out :(

omg the dark voices calling us again, is it kook? or someone else? also why is that smell there? is one of them so upset to the point its stinking for a human like her? is it tae? another prisoner?

interesting questions indeed 👀

oh jin who was it? or do u not remember ? DID U FUCKING HURT TAE??? NO NO U DID NOT YOONGI U MOTHERFUKER *sighs *reads the list 3 times

jfadjsj

WDYM no he didnt YOONGI? U COULD HAVE SAID THIS IDK A FEW DAYS AGO??? MONTHS AGO???

lmaoao for real

“She is still alive. She begged them to turn her and so Jimin did.” LE GASP (totally didnt see everyone talking about emma, yeah never saw that) ok i knew she may or may not exist, but i didnt know she become a gluten

I'm sorry but fjadsjf "a gluten" fadsjf Emma be like 🌾

20 PEOPLE DAMN fuck they could have planned it better are we going to see her anytime soon?

mhhm god question 👀

“Be grateful. You don’t want this burden”, Yoongi says coldly, is it referring to burden as in unable to forget bad memories and bad memories/nightmares being too realistic and detailed?

I think it's a mixture of both 😭

We remember things that are important to us, the rest we forget piece by piece until we wander on empty streets and pass by unknown shadows.” hmm guess there is a price to for soo many memories, even our memories become less detailed over time, videos turning into picture like memories, forgetting their voice, favorite stuff etc

yes gosh :( I'm sad that they do :( especially my memories with my grandpa I would love to keep :(

why are we in a hurry? its ur memories right? does it do something to him? yeah hobi's right, where is our body and what is it doing?? is the smell coming from the dead people?

the smell is just London in 1800-something where sanitary systems were basically the streets and the Thames BHAHAHAH 💀 the bodies are currently passed out back in the estate 👀

“No you won’t”, Yoongi stops you FUCK OFF THIS HAPPENED CUZ U ALLOWED IT AND DIDNT SAY THIS BEFORE AND NO U DONT ALLOW HER TO TALK TO TAEHYUNG wow he really has the audacity to use tae as a leverage

YES THIS BUT THEN you rememeber that maybe he doesn't want her to see him right now because he doesn't want her to see him in a tortured beat up state and he wants to save her from that trauma and you just start crying 😭

sibi what have you done to me why am i sweating over a fiction 😭😭 why am i seeing brown filters and balls in my dreams? why are you giving me mood swings from simping too hard 😽 to crying over cuteness overload😻 and angst😿 to pissed off 😾to happy happy happy😸

ah yes my job here is done

oh no we are at his wing 😭😭😭 is jimin coming back?😭when will he come back? i only got to cry over for him for a few paragraphs and then bam im crying over his death

hahhahah I don't think that Jimin is coming back my dear 😔

the date, its soo sweet and cute UFKC u should have written it before his death it would be more cute then tear jerker (but that was the plan huh? u cute lil shit i love you, my emotions are a mess and i love this universe soo much, i wanna exist in it, actually u write so well,it is easily able to feel like u are her, without being a personality less character)

gaah that is very lovely to hear!! thank you so much heheeh 💜💜

[paintedstories]

Hi!!!, I’ll make some requests if U don't mind 😋❤️❤️

Soobin x fem reader where all txt + reader go to a haunted hause, come crack and then fluff-comfort bc soobin ended up crying out of fear and reader comforts him

AWWWWWWWWWWWWWH!!!!!!! that's sooosososoos cute!!

babe,i dont mind,make as many as you want.btw i love ur felix pfp(u can req foe skz too)

♥ SOOBIN X READER ♥

I hear someone sigh and then groan *why...why did I agree too come* I hear Soobin cry, *ohh shut up you are always playing those stupid games, now its time to go out a lil* said Yeongun while laughing and continuing to biker with Beomgyu and the others.

*here we are!* I exclaimed with a smirk knowing he will get scared fast. I started walking inside the house when Beongyu and Kai came to me and whispered me a plan to scare Soobin, I smirked and accepted, nothing bad could happen right?

*boys! i've got a plan to make this even funnier! lets separate in groups of two, ill go with Soobin, Yeonjun with Beongyu, Teddy with Kai!* everyone agreed and I nodded towards a smirking Yeonjun. While I was walking with Soobing while holding his hand, well he was holding my hand almost breaking it * babe stop squishing my hand so hard, or else I wont have one by the end of this tour* I laughed * Tour!? You call this TOUR, please remind me to never go anywhere with you* he said while stopping in his tracks and a face of pure shock and horror was on his face * what-* I was stopped in my tracks by Soobin grabbing my hand and dragging me trough the abandoned house in a empty and full of broken furniture room. *Babe whats wrong!?* I said while looking at his eyes *shhhh! lets hide ! be quiet* he grabbed my hand and we hid in a closet that was on the verge of collapsing *bab-* I started but then I heard sniffles, he's crying!? I shuffled close to him and hugged him while he started crying harder and harder every time I shushed him * Baby shhh shhh it was all a prank, calm down no one is after us, it was Beomgyu!* when he heard that he got up and walked out with red eyes and puffy checks, I felt so bad for him, * baby...come here*I hugged his waist and he rested his head on my shoulder, we sat down and I patted my lap for him to come and sit and hug me, what he did.*shush baby it was all fake ok? no one is hurting you, no one baby, lets go home yeah? ill text Teddy telling him were going home, ok?* he nodded and we got up while I texted teddy that were going home and Yeonjun to tell Beomgyu to stop the prank i held his hand while walking out and going home. ..............................................................................................................................

..............................................................................................................................

As we got home I helped him jet his jacket off and told him to get dressed in pjs and that ill come soon, while he was doing that I was making some warm tea. When I entered in the bedroom I saw him on his phone and under the blankets with all the lights on. As I walked closer to him I saw that he still had some dried tears on his right check and I gently wiped his face with my sleeve *drink some tea baby* As I gave him the tea I saw how tired he looked *drink it and we can go to bed* I told him as I was going to the other part of the bed and got under the covers next to him as we drank our tea and watched some funny animal videos then we both walked into dream land while I kept hugging him and keeping him close to me.

Hiii! hope you like it,i saw your other reqs too,ill make them a little bit later .i just got a big headache and it dosent stop.but when it will ill do the others too!

[blubushie]

How did you get into Tf2

and when did you start writing in general (like I don’t mean literally) ?

Morning Vykko!

How did you get into TF2?

I've always been aware of it and have seen memes and shit (come on I'm a gamer of course I knew TF2 was a thing) but I never actually got into it until I went bush. My first month I lose a tyre so I cross the Paroo-Darling on a fucking spare and end up going to Sydney because there's a branch of the company I bought Matilda from there and they'll cover any replacements within 3 months of purchase. While I'm there and they're replacing my tyre and doing a free rotate (because Matilda is old) I decide to get rinsed so I ask around the locals (I am NOT from Sydney) and they tell me to go to Scruffy Murphy's of all places (having a lend of the tourist) so I go there without knowing that it was a total dive. I'm not here for a Scruffy Murphy's review but it was one of those pubs that's so bad you'd go back because it really lends to that 60s-70s roughhouse dive aesthetic.

I saw a pubfight break out, it was great. Outside of one pub in California (to which I arrived only at the very end) this was my first witness to a pubfight. I'm sitting there drinking an old fashioned and watching the chaos. At one point a bloke called me a seppo which is the first time I've ever been called that to my face. I threw a peanut at him.

Anyway I get there and I'm eating my too-cooked steak (I like mine rare, no drama, rather them serve overcooked food than undercooked food and I was starving so I'm not complaining) and this licked twink waltzes up to me, introduces himself as Lozza "and don't call me Laurence," and starts trying to chat me up. He's yabbering away and I'm just kinda nodding along because I don't know how to tell someone to piss off apparently. He ends up buying me another old fashioned, I feel bad so then it's my shout and I get him a screwdriver, we go back and forth and four cocktails later I'm feeling enough to actually start talking so when he asks me for my life story I indulge him.

And this nerdy little cunt goes, "So your parents don't like what you do for work, huh?"

To which I say "No," because it's true, and after this I'd learnt that if you clink your glass on the counter or table usually it's a cue to fuck off. I didn't know this at the time obviously or I definitely would've used it.

"And you got some issues with feeling true blue, huh?"

He's starting to do that thing where people pick apart your brain. I can tell by the way he's looking at me because he's giving me that therapist look that only therapists give you. "I'm an Aussie," I told him, with no hint of an Australian accent, "It's just that other people don't always think I'm an Aussie."

"And you live in a van, huh?" I probably shouldn't have told him about the van part because now I'm getting nervous. It's setting off alarm bells. I'm much more careful these days.

"I--yeah, now I do."

"You play video games, mate?" Oh God. Oh shit. Do I tell him I used to be addicted and that for a good two or three years as a teen I was basically living just to play video games because I had nothing else to stick around for? Bugger me.

"I, uh--I used to play a lot of Halo--"

"YOU EVER HEAR OF TF2?"

And this cunt goes on an hour-long spiel about the lore and who everyone is and we ended the night with him showing me the Meet the Team videos, and he's telling me, "Mate, mate, listen mate," he says mate a lot more when he's drunk, "You're like Sniper mate, you're just like Sniper."

And at first I was like "Get fucked, that's dumb."

Anyway a year later I'm on YouTube watching some video about different skinning methods for pigs (I usually use a rack but sometimes I'm out in the bush without a rack, I'm getting off track) and in my recommendations I see Meet the Scout and think "Fuck it" and watch that. I watch all of them (immediately like Sniper because we're very much the same. I also maintain a mantra of polite, professional, James Mattis) and then I find out there's comics so I go down a rabbit hole of reading all of those in one night and the autism hyperfixation has done the rest.

Unfortunately Lozza will probably never read the fic because he ships SniperSpy and not SniperScout but this one's for you mate, you carpal tunnel-inducing bastard.

When did you start writing in general?

I've always loved telling stories but I first started writing as a hobby when I was around 12 and I was terrible. It was personal short stories and no one knew I did it except for my English teacher through writing assignments. At 16 I hit a major roadblock called life and I stopped writing for a few years. In that time the most I did was journaling for my own sanity. TF2 is what brought me back and made me remember my love of writing (coincidentally this is also why the first 4 chapters of the fic are terrible, because I wrote them two years ago then stopped writing for a year and then returned with a vengeance in chapter 5 with a mantra of "No wukkas to word count, write for yourself and not for your reader.")

[colors-of-my-heart]

since this production has been living in my head rent free since I saw it a week ago… a cluttered (but comprehensive) list of notes on Phoenix College RTC.

- Virgil pre-show. he just skuttled around the stage for a full minute before the lights went down.

- without exaggeration, this was probably the most Virgil-heavy production of RTC to date. in every other version of the show I've seen, he does his little guitar solo at the beginning and then kind of just disappears for the next two hours. that was NOT the case here, my boy was kicking around for the entire show and for that I will be eternally grateful. 

- there were long stretches where he just sat there vibing to the music and shyly mimicking the choreography to himself. everyone was the amazing of course (and i’ll get to that) but Virgil in particular has my heart. - the set was super impressive!! you could definitely see inspiration from the Off-Broadway production in the colors, patterns and set pieces. the thing that stuck out to me the most in its uniqueness was the big crystal ball cutout they used for the bumper footage and projections. 

- golden cast. perfect. iconic. not a single ass was halved. everyone fit their roles perfectly, brought so much personality and flair to them, and had amazing chemistry with one another.

- Virgil immediately terrifying the choir the moment they arrived in the afterlife, and then proceeding to poke Noel in the back repeatedly with his tail and then pretend like nothing happened the entire time Karnak introduced himself

- l don’t know if the actor playing Noel had a lot of friends in the audience, if everyone was just very familiar with RTC, or if his stage presence was just that powerful, but everyone lost their minds whenever he did ANYTHING (and deservedly so).

- Mischa had a very large and very clearly homemade tattoo of Talia’s name on his forearm 🥺

- The audience yet again loses its collective mind the moment Jane enters (the energy in this theater was feral in the best way possible)

- Noel is absolutely captivated during Jane’s monologue and claps ferociously when she finishes

- Noel cackles maniacally when Karnak explains that the winner will be chosen by unanimous vote after WTWN

- Noel aggressively flipping off Ocean the moment she turns away after the “you challenged my preconceived notion that all gay dudes are fun the be around” comment (the sibling-rivalry-esque energy between these two was immaculate here)

- Noel gestures towards Mischa while delivering the “I wanted a man who would drive me to drink” line

- The feather boa during Noel’s Lament was absolutely distrintigrating, like every little movement sent a flurry of little green fuzzies adrift. by the end of the number it was basically a string with a few spare feathers clinging on for dear life, and while it was almost certainly unintentional, let me tell you it WORKED. it’s what Monique would have wanted.

- “In my home country it is natural for two men to show affection by kissing… nnnot always in heeeelssss 😏🥴” this production very much said nischa real

- Mischa trying to stare down Ocean after the “my song will only have profanity in chorus” line only to get intimidated and back off

- clips of what seemed to be a homemade music video were interspersed throughout Mischa’s bumper and it was delightful

- ALSO he was wearing a custom Bad Egg hat and WHERE DO I GET ONE

- I didn’t put the pieces together until way later when I saw someone else point it out, but when they showed the projections of Talia, apparently it was just Noel in a wig. I was very confused why everyone was laughing when she appeared, I’m not good with faces ok

- Ricky awkwardly joins in when Noel and Mischa hug it out after Talia. He was third-wheeling it big time but it’s the thought that counts ❤️

- During SABM, when Ricky goes behind the curtains with the cat ladies, Cat!Mischa and Cat!Noel cover their ears in discomfort until he comes backs out in his costume change (which included a silver helmet and arm bands. Iconic).

- Ricky got the crowd to clap in time with music near the end of the song and it quite literally felt like a religious experience

- TBOJD was so good holy fucking fuck

- the actress portraying Jane just had a fantastic voice and captured her physicality so so well. her deadpan expression was unwavering and just everything about her was so tragic and haunting

- the members of the choir carried these black funeral umbrellas throughout the number, but when it reached the ragtime portion they flipped them to reveal Christmas lights underneath. there was an audible gasp across the audience when this happened and it gave me goosebumps

- Noel got absolutely SLOSHED after one swig of vodka and I would expect nothing less

- Constance looked like she’d been saving up that punch for a LONG LONG time, Ocean is lucky she was already dead because she did NOT hold back

- Right as she sang the word “heartbreaker”, Constance stepped on a light and it shattered. the timing was honestly so perfect it’s hard to say whether or not it was intentional? I’m going to go with it wasn’t because a stagehand came to sweep up the glass a minute later and the cast later had to sit on the floor of that general area. but it honestly added to much to the moment, gave me chills

- the audience proved itself to be the true villain of the show when Karnak said that in five minutes was his “appointment with a rat named Virgil” and several people cheered. LOOK I love him too but can we NOT encourage him?!?!?!

- karma came a few minutes later when we were forced to actually watch Virgil bite into the wire and convulse violently until he stopped moving :( F

- i felt like an asshole but I couldn’t help but giggle throughout the ending of Its Just A Ride because, as the choir was singing and dancing cheerfully in one final celebration of life, Virgil was just lying there in the Peter Griffin death pose like two feet away. there was one point where Constance did a little hop and I thought for a split second she was about to stomp on his hand

- besides the callous disregard of the corpses right next to them, they played around with some of the props from earlier in the show throughout the number and it was very organic and wholesome

- in a continuation of my favorite modern RTC production trope, they had Jane come out sans makeup (so now Penny) at the end of the show to round it out 🥺 this production gave me everything I wanted

I think that’s all of it but also the moment I hit post I’ll probably remember something else. point is though this was a very good production and I’ll probably never recover