#maybe i should just use the most annoying deck imaginable

[rubys-domain]

FUCK YEAH

TAKE THAT YOU CUNTS

[inventors-fair]

First Pickable: Typal Winners ~

Our winners for this week are @helloijustreadyourpost, @reaperfromtheabyss and @tanknspank!

@helloijustreadyourpost — Score of a Lifetime

This one is absolutely sold for me. I assume that this is a Capenna-themed card? I mean, considering the scored, I'd say so, so as to avoid the batching that something like OTJ had. All the same, there are a LOT of Rogues there, and a lot of colors. Maybe this could've even been a Treasure, right? But regardless, having a little bit of every color get a little bit of roguishness is pretty much on the nose for what we're looking for mechanically. There was that one artifact from VOW that made a creature unblockable with a bonus for Vampires, but that wouldn't be as fought over. This card, though? I love the evasive theme that everyone would seek if there are indeed rogues, well, everywhere.

And the flavor text is pretty awesome too—which is what fully sells me on the card, because you're expressing a whole lot of possibilities here. The first is that a thief's life is short because of their field of work, but the other is that being "set for life" could just be a temporary measure, and that the rogue would squander it and impulsively go on to the next job—not for the money, but for the thrill. That's a way more esoteric read than I think is necessary, but dammit, it's speaking to me, so I'm going to roll with it. Nobody can stop me!

@reaperfromtheabyss — Sentry's Shortsword

My first thought was that this could be an excellent Kaldheim card, but then I remembered the Artificer example from the beginning of the week, and then yeah, okay, this could also be a more military-oriented card from Kaladesh. That was a really weird thought for me, especially because I remember Kaladesh's dwarves as being pilots and tinkerers, not as much soldiers. But my imagination is running ahead of me. In some ways...isn't that a good thing? Maybe I do like specificity and pounded-into-the-forge worldbuilding. With a set like this, there could be some story behind it to push it in either direction.

That's very cool. That's very cool indeed. As an equipment, this card's on the aggressive and defensive sides, and everyone who's ever played against Danitha in any form knows how much of a pain first strike and vigilance is. Perhaps I'm biased towards vigilance as a mechanic. It's equally possible that vigilance kicks ass and I'm correct and handsome and etc. Don't matter none when a dwarf is swinging at your face. I like the low-to-the-ground implication here, no pun intended, and how you linked the flavor of dwarves with the auto-equip. Like, to me that says something about how they're either readily weaponized or close to the forge? I like cards that make me prone to positive overthinking and this one gets the job done right.

@tanknspank — Sudden Swarming

As an annoying first critique, I will say that I wish the flavor text had been one sentence: "The two kings agreed to clash at dawn, but a neighboring queen arranged a temporary truce." That's about it. The image of these armies fleeing at the behest of a cloud of annoyed bugs is punny, hilarious, and a great use of an underused mechanical space, in my opinion. Does anyone love Fogs? Well, no, because they haven't made a good one in a kajillion years. Is this one of the best Fogs ever? I mean, I think so, but mostly because I'm a jerk.

And also, like, there could be one single Insect or Insect-themed card in this whole draft set, and it wouldn't have any payoff except for this one card, but this one card would be a single sideboard piece in most decks. Someone might want to start building Insects in standard and be disappointed, and/or add it to their Grist commander deck. That's what cards like this should be about, and this is both a hilarious use of the prompt and a great use of this kind of spot overall. Puns don't always get me in design, but this one sure does. A card that stands on its own merits is a card I can get behind.

Runners up 'n coming. @abelzumi

[ridiasfangirlings]

a met gala with the k characters (celebrity au) ? Say all of them are invited and their fans are super excited for them. Munakata and Yukari are the ones who go all out with the theme and costumes, taking it very seriously then Mikoto just arrives in a plain shirt and jeans disappointed by the no smoking policy😭

First: we all agree this is Munakata, right? He is absolutely dressed like that except instead of silver it’s some kind of shiny blue metal and he provides his own sparkles. He is absolutely committed to being the most fabulous and thematic person on the red carpet and probably spends months planning his costume.

Maybe celebrity AU being kinda similar to Idol K in everyone being from different agencies, so Munakata as head of S4 Acting Agency makes it very clear that he expects all his people to participate to the greatest extent of their abilities. S4 are probably the most decked out of the agencies, every member is wearing some kind of fancy outfit that had to be approved by Munakata for thematic appropriateness and to be sure no one is wearing the same thing as anyone else. Fushimi tries to get out of it and probably ends up in some elaborate huge coat outfit like this, so at least he can fill it with knives. Awashima gets a lovely gown and looks stunning, and can use her high heels to smash the feet of any man who stares at her boobs too long.

The Silvers and Greens are also somewhat on theme though it varies more. I imagine Kuroh wanting to dress in something fancy only because those are the rules of the venue and he feels that rules should be respected (he is still scandalized when he sees Munakata on the red carpet). Shiro prefers a more toned-down look like a nice super long coat that has two sides so he can switch coats at any moment. Neko I imagine just dressed in whatever strikes her fancy, she shows up at the gala looking very nice and put together and just unravels during the night as she gets bored and starts playing with her shoes and hair ornaments and earrings. On the Green side, Iwafune and Sukuna probably dress more in regular nice suits, Iwafune figures he’s too old to dress up much and Sukuna complains that he has to wear a tie he’s not touching a really fancy outfit. Hisui I imagine in something green and decked with parrot feathers, with Kotosaka on his shoulder. Yukari absolutely goes all out and probably has people carrying him into the venue on a litter Billy Porter style.

The Red clan are definitely the most ‘normal,’ clothes-wise. Totsuka I could see wearing something creative and he tries to get everyone else to follow suit, but mostly the guys just dress kinda nice. Yata, Akagi, Bandou and Dewa all keep wearing their hats and Totsuka dresses those up with feathers at least. Anna definitely gets something cute and fun, with red crystals on the hem of her dress and the guys all escort her in like her attendants.

…And then Mikoto shows up, looking like he just woke up in jeans and a T-shirt, annoyed that they made him throw out his cigarette before he got here. Totsuka has to half-drag him in, like come on King let’s enjoy the party. Totsuka looks at Mikoto’s outfit and sighs a little, if he’d known he would have bought an extra jacket covered in multicolor fringe for Mikoto to wear. Mikoto gives a quiet sigh of relief and that’s when he hears a ‘so, you have finally made your presence known, Suoh.’ Mikoto looks up at Munakata, mostly naked and sparkling brightly in the light of the camera flashes, and wonders if it’s too late for him to just turn around and leave.

[ozma914]

A Conservative Lawn Mower

While I was mowing the lawn a few years ago, oil started spurting out all over (from the mower, not me). Investigation revealed the oil did not come from an opening oil should come out of. No, it was a brand new opening.

Going back still another year, while I pushed that that very same mower, the handle suddenly dissolved into numerous pieces. They scattered across the lawn in a pattern that spelled out “Ha!” I found what I thought was one of those pieces still on the mower deck, and picked it up. The pattern of that bolt, which -- it turned out -- was actually from the engine, is imprinted to this day on the palm of my hand.

No connection could be established between that red-hot doohickey and the auto-dismembering handle, but what are the odds?

The lawn mower before that lost its life when I pulled the handle to start it, but failed to notice the rope didn’t retreat back into the machine, where it belonged. Then I mowed over the rope. It wasn’t pretty. My father eventually took that mower to his Home for Mistreated Machines (established in my honor), where it happily whacked away for years more, without a care. (In other words, without me.) The one before that is the Infamous Exploding Lawnmower, which caused the first ever Level One Hazardous Material Emergency in the history of Noble County, and was featured on both CNN and “The Simpson’s”. The parts that could be located are on display in the Smithsonian, after being borrowed by an investigation team from the History Channel program, “Engineering Disasters”. What I’m saying is, I have a history. After the most recent lawn mower sacrificed its lifeblood (still visible in a dead patch of  grass that spells out “help me”), a friend let me borrow his. I know – dumb friend! Ironically, the mower ran just fine under my borrowship. It was a freakin’ miracle. Then my friend gave me the mower, maybe assuming it was tainted. He wasn't wrong.

Oh yeah, and this happened. Those wheels are supposed to go in the same direction.

My mowers never screw up the same way twice. One time it's the starter rope; another time a cracked head (not unlike the one I got from a low hanging branch); then it’ll be sheets of flame and a towering mushroom cloud. So I’m mowing the lawn the day after the mower officially became mine, and it stops. Just stops, after once around the lawn. I manage to get it started. Once around, it stops again. After some effort, including changing the gas, oil and sparkplug, and some imaginative praying, I get it going again. Once around, it stops. Changing fluids is the extent of my capabilities. Yes, I can change the sparkplug, but that task once led to me regaining consciousness on top of the neighbor's car. But eventually, a realization hit me: When the mower leaned toward the right, it kept running. When it leaned toward the left, it stopped. Every time. I had a conservative lawn mower.

Okay, but how do I go the other way?

Luckily, very little of my lawn is level; in fact, there’s every indication the entire property is sliding downhill. The US Geological Service estimated that within the next hundred years my house will be west of the old car wash on the next block, which is bad because right now it’s east of the car wash. The same team that handled the Leaning Tower of Pizza is working on the problem. But my lawn can't wait a hundred years, so my solution was simple: Keep the mower’s right side pointed downhill at all times. I gotta tell you, that’s nowhere near as easy as I thought it might be: * Sooner or later, you’ve got to turn around. Otherwise, the neighbors will get annoyed. * When you back up, you can’t watch both the mower and the dog droppings. * Slipping while pulling a lawnmower toward you is the closest thing you can get to an instant of sheer terror without being in a plane crash. * Pulling a lawn mower toward you is dumb. This was a genius way to torture me. I possessed a mower that was perfectly capable of mowing, as long as it’s tilted in one direction. Why replace it? That’s money I could use for other things, like utility bills, food, or crutches. Besides, this is Indiana – I’m surprised there aren’t more right leaning lawn mowers. So I spent the next few years wearing out one side of my shoes. Sometimes I think my lawn can’t slide away soon enough.

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B0058CL6OO

Barnes & Noble:  https://www.barnesandnoble.com/s/"Mark R Hunter"

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4898846.Mark_R_Hunter

Blog: https://markrhunter.blogspot.com/

Website: http://www.markrhunter.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ozma914/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MarkRHunter914

Linkedin: https://www.linkedin.com/in/markrhunter/

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Tumblr:  https://www.tumblr.com/ozma914

Remember, if you don't stop to read, your lawn mower might inspire the next disaster movie.

[ladybugout-au]

Dear. GOD. After seeing Furious Fu, I would honestly love to see LBO!Marinette just chewing out Su-Han for all his canon-to-fic BULLSHIT. Like, I know you’ve already got a plan to incorporate Feast into LBO, which I’m super excited for, so this asshole showing up with all his nonsense after the new Team Miraculous is set, hell maybe even after they’ve already retrieved the Butterfly and the Peacock, and watching Marinette (and possibly Fu since he has the memories to stand up for himself) tear this dude a new one would really be the cherry on top of an already awesome fic. Sorry to rant in your inbox lol but the new episode just made me so. ANGRY.

In the lounge room of the Liberty, everyone jumped as they heard a noise from up above deck, as if something heavy had fallen or been dropped. Marinette briefly pulled away from Luka’s hold, staring up at the ceiling and wondering aloud, “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Juleka admitted, exchanging concerned looks with Rose.

“That definitely wasn’t Mom,” Luka noted with a tilt of his head.

Pounding footsteps followed, making it clear that a person had clearly gotten on the houseboat without the gangplank being there.

Nino jolted on alert, turning to Duusu with a hushed whisper. “Hide!”

“All of you,” Kagami began, standing up and looking around vaguely at every kwami. “get out of sight.”

The kwami, breaking out of their trance after the brief scare, scattered in every direction to find their own individual hiding places, some choosing to hide with their respective holder and others preferring to hide behind or inside objects. Ivan went into his usual protective mode, wrapping an arm around Mylene while she clung to him.

Marinette stood up, rushing over to the table and picking up the Miracle Box to stow it away. She looked around, then dashed for the microwave and stored the box inside.

She shut the door just in time for the intruder to descend from the staircase: an old man, dressed in Chinese garb and carrying a strange mystical-looking staff. He had a stern expression, his brows knitted together as he scanned the room like none of them were even there. He raised his staff, his gaze eventually locking on the microwave the Marinette was standing near.

Without a word, he pushed Marinette aside, earning an offended, “Excuse me—hey!” from her as he grabbed the microwave door and tugged it. When that did little more than jostle the microwave itself, he tried blindly tampering with the buttons to no avail.

Marinette slapped his wrist away, standing with all her pride as guardian as she asked, “What do you think you’re doing?!”

He glared at her in response. “Young lady, I demand you open your magical sealing chamber and return what’s rightfully mine!”

She blanked, the words catching her completely off-guard. This guy thought their microwave was a magical sealing chamber?

In response, Marinette gave a brief glance to the others, who were all looking back at her with equally puzzled expressions, any tension from before completely gone.

An unspoken question echoed throughout the room: Is he for real?

Before Marinette could ask any further, Tikki emerged from her hiding spot, flying over and explaining, “Marinette, I know who this is! This is great master Su-Han, the guardian of the Miracle Box!”

Marinette raised a brow skeptically. “But I’m the guardian?”

“He was responsible for the box before the incident that Master Fu caused,” she corrected.

Su-Han looked down at Marinette condescendingly. “So you are the current holder of the box.”

“That’s right,” she confirmed unapologetically. She gave a side-glance to Luka and the others, seeing that they were prepared to stand up and fight for her, but she gave a subtle gesture to let them know that it wasn’t necessary. Resolving to deal with Su-Han herself, she faced him again. “How did you find us?”

He held out his staff, the jewel on it mere centimeters from her face. “Guardian scepters are equipped with compasses that can find their Miracle Box at any given time.”

“In case you lose it?” Marinette blurted out, but didn’t apologize or try to take it back.

“Insolent!” Su-Han gasped. “You are not even a proper guardian. I can tell that this box hasn’t even been properly passed down to you!”

“Because Master Fu gave it to me,” she explained, “and we agreed that he should keep his memories.”

“Fu?” Su-Han echoed. “You mean Wang Fu? Chicken legs?”

Is this guy five? Marinette wondered.

Orikko popped out from their hiding place, waving a paw at Su-Han as if in warning. “I take offense to that!”

Su-Han glared at Orikko at the comment, and Orikko quickly ducked back down. Turning his attention back to Marinette, he continued, “Wang Fu is a student who wasn’t even able to fast for a day, nor do a thousand finger-pushups. He was never a rightful guardian, and he failed to fulfill the hope we’d seen in him.”

“Master Fu may have made mistakes, but he’s done his best to make up for all of them!” she argued. “He protected the box for over one hundred years and it’s because of his choices that our team was able to defeat Hawk Moth!”

“Team?” Su-Han asked, his face scrunching up as if he were piecing something together.

“Yes!”

Marinette gestured to her boyfriend and friends for emphasis. Luka, Ivan, Kagami, and Juleka stood while Rose and Nino pinched and stretched their shirts to show off their respective miraculouses.

“Children?” Su-Han gaped. Glaring at Marinette, as if she had personally given out the miraculouses herself, he declared, “Children are never meant to hold miraculouses, especially from the first and most powerful Miracle Box! Kwami are extremely powerful, cosmic creatures!”

A voice piped up from across the room. “Y-you say that, but—!”

Marinette and Su-Han turned to look at Nooroo, who had peeked out from behind Rose’s shoulder. He breathed up, seeming to gain some confidence, then floated out to the center of the room.

“They saved me and Duusu from the hands of evil! We would still be in Gabriel’s clutches if not for them!”

“What?” Su-Han asked. Just when Marinette thought they might be getting somewhere, he turned back to her and accused, “The peacock and butterfly were lost?!”

“Fu lost them when he was escaping the temple,” Marinette explained, a mixture between unphased and annoyed at the man’s outbursts, “but we got them back and everything’s okay now.”

Luka chimed in from his place near the couch, “Marinette has been an incredible leader, as both Ladybug and the guardian.”

She smiled at him in thanks, but Su-Han was clearly focused on anything but the positives.

“Ladybug? You’re even wearing a miraculous?! Guardians aren’t meant to hold miraculouses!” he said, throwing his arms out for effect.

“What—why?” she asked, genuinely confused.

Instead of answering her, Su-Han pulled out a book, shoving it pointedly towards her with the cover facing downwards in his palm. “Let me remind you of a few important rules you’ve violated.” He flipped through a few pages, then pointed at one of them. “Rule fourteen: Kwami must not live outside of the box.” He flipped through a few more. “Rule fifty-two: Guardians must never lose a miraculous. “He flipped to a page near the end. “Rule one hundred and thirty-three: Guardians must never, under any circumstances, wear a miraculous.”

“Master Fu wore a miraculous,” she argued, having never heard of any such rule from him.

“And that proves exactly what I’m talking about!” Su-Han retorted. “Neither you nor Fu are capable guardians because neither of you have respected the rules of the order!”

“...”

When Marinette initially imagined the Order of the Guardians and the people who ran it, this was not what she’d pictured. She had pictured zen and calm, not belligerent and immovable. She was reminded vaguely of her grandfather when she first met him, and that wasn’t a good thing.

She tossed another gaze at everyone, who gave her the same look and nod in response: let him have it.

“Young lady, I’ll repeat myself once,” Su-Han warned. “Return the Miracle Box and the miraculouses to me before--”

Marinette grabbed the book out of his hand, shut it with a satisfying “clap,” then set it back in his hand. “No.“

“What did you say?” he asked, aghast that she would speak to him that way.

“I said no.” Marinette advanced on him, the sheer force of her presence making him take a step back. “Now let me remind you about everything you must’ve missed this whole time.”

She raised a finger at him, raising additional fingers as she went on. “One: You intruded on my boyfriend’s house without any sort of permission. If you’d actually called out to us, we might’ve actually been willing to come out and listen to what you had to say. Two: You wouldn’t have even been able to be here in the first place if not for me using Miraculous Ladybug after our team took down Feast, which you weren’t able to do. Three: We aren’t children, we’re teenagers, and the fact that you can’t tell the difference or bother learning what technology is shows that I shouldn’t trust you with the Miracle Box even if you had a right to it. Four: You didn’t bother to listen and blamed me for losing miraculouses when it was you and your order who didn’t keep an eye on a poor boy who didn’t want to be there. Five, last but not least: I say the kwami are allowed out of the Miracle Box because I am the guardian. You and your order have been gone for over one hundred years and you can’t go making demands after I brought you back. You told me rules I didn’t even know about and didn’t explain why you have those rules in the first place. The kwami are my friends and they have feelings and I’m not going to shut them in a box because you told me to.”

Silence filled the room, no one saying a word and Su-Han’s face contorting between shock and outrage.

Marinette took a step back, standing at the ready and gesturing to herself. “So if you want the Miracle Box, you’re going to have to go through us first.”

She tossed a look at her team, all of them doing a synchronized, confrontational motion to face Su-Han.

“Tikki!”

“Plagg!”

“Wayzz!”

“Pollen!”

“Trixx!”

“Nooroo!”

“Duusu!”

They then shouted in unison, “Transform me!”

Several individual flashes meshed together, overtaking the room and then fading to leave several heroes behind, their weapons equipped for battle.

Su-Han looked amongst them, a flicker in his eyes that hinted that he knew he would be outmatched, but also wasn’t willing to admit it. He retreated a few steps back, hands out to show that he was prepared to defend himself.

It was at that moment that Ladybug heard and noticed movement from behind him, realization striking and a smile overtaking her face. Pulling back from her fighting pose, she placed a hand on her hip and stated confidently, “Captain Anarka will escort you out.”

He looked confused, and he was only able to let out a, “What—?” before a hand clamped down on his shoulder.

Su-Han wasn’t even able to turn around before he was pulled backward, a jewelry-adorned fist decking him in the face and sending him flying into the staircase. His scepter fell to the floor and he could only gape at the woman standing there, cracking her knuckles while he was sprawled out on the stairs with all air having been knocked out of him.

“A trespasser on my ship, eh?” Anarka asked, a grin on her face but her eyes glinting with malice. “I don’t take kindly to ship rats who threaten my crew and think they’re too good to walk the plank.”

Su-Han hurried to get up, only for Anarka to grab him by his shirt and haul him up the stairs, a rapid shuffling noise following as Ladybug went over and shut the door.

A few seconds passed and the atmosphere shifted to peace, everyone mutually releasing their transformations and relaxing. Marinette smiled reassuringly at everyone, letting them know that things were okay, but then jumped as she heard a resounding, “Marinette!”

The kwami all emerged from their hiding places, Marinette having no time to react as they all charged at her, their tiny bodies clinging affectionately to whatever they could grab of her.

“You’re amazing!”

“Thank you so much!”

“You stood up for us!”

“You’re the best guardian ever!”

Marinette gasped, finding it hard to move without disturbing any of them. Trying hard not to laugh, she protested, “Aha—hey! Stop, you’re all tickling me!”

She blushed, looking over at her teammates who were only staring at her with pride, which just made the pink on her cheeks turn red. “This is so embarrassing!”

Once the kwami had their fill of thanking her, they finally obeyed and flew away, each giving her smiles of approval. She covered her face with a hand, waiting for the shyness to die down, then noticed the guardian scepter out of the corner of her eye, still lying on the ground.

She approached, touching the scepter at first to make sure it was safe, then properly picking it up and letting it stand next to her. She tapped the gem on top, eyeing the compass that Su-Han had been talking to her about, then followed its direction back to the microwave. She walked over, opening it up, then took out the Miracle Box and held it in her free hand.

Looking back and forth between the two clearly ancient objects, she couldn’t help chuckling. “They don’t really suit me.”

Her friends giggled in response, Luka in particular shooting her a warm smile and approaching. One of his hands went to the scepter and the other went to rest on the Miracle Box.

“I think you make them work, actually,” he replied.

Marinette beamed at him, thoroughly warmed by the compliment. It didn’t feel like that long ago when her support was lacking and defeating Hawk Moth seemed like a pipe dream.

Now, holding the Miracle Box and scepter in her hands, she didn’t know why she’d ever doubted herself.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right.” Then, looking at the Su-Han-less room, she gave a shrug and walked back with Luka to the couch. “So, where were we?”

[shorkbrian]

Creep

Prelude - bitch hold on what about mean brother Shigs being an absolute creep? Inspired by me playing a boss in AC Odyssey and my controller vibrated so hard I almost dropped it, and I couldn’t beat this dude and it was so freaking frustrating!!!!!! 

Pairing - Shigaraki X Reader

Warnings - - INCEST, NSFW, innocence kink, do not read if those squick you out bro!!! Seriously! abuse of trust, dubcon, noncon, literally nothing about this situation is good, or healthy, or nice. Disgusting behavior is exhibited by Shigs.

Music - (does anyone actually like when I provide music? I like getting music vibes while I read through fics but ik that my music taste is a bit wacky lol anyways). https://open.spotify.com/track/0ODyahnUlK9G5bT4dA5NCI?si=10R9ggoJS1inYidrMeWrHA

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He offers to let you play his Xbox game, you keep annoying him by pouting for his attention and he gives up with trying to ignore you.

Stipulation - you gotta sit on his lap while you play, you’re such a stupid little girl that he forces his hands over yours, showing you how to use the Xbox controller while sneering at how dumb you are.

You’re too focused on the game to pay attention to how one of his hands has dropped from the controller, is creeping up your thigh, thumbing at the hem of your shorts. You don't realize that he’s plastered against your back, breath picking up in your ear as he hunches over your shoulder, thinking of all the dirty things he wants to do to you, how you’re too absent-minded to realize how much of a perverted creep he is. 

“Shit!” You curse, breaking Shigaraki out of his thoughts as you bounce your leg in frustration. He feels the slight vibration of the controller - you’re getting attacked in the game, enemies surrounding you and hacking at your player. Shigaraki is too entranced by how he can watch your jiggling breasts over your shoulder, jostling around as you jerk your arms, trying to not die in the game.

“Nii-san help me, ‘m gonna die!” You shriek, whole body getting into the gaming experience, jerking around in his lap as you struggle to press the right buttons. Shigaraki tries not to groan - he can feel the space between your thighs as you move around, hot and doughy and he wants to touch so bad.

Yeah, he’s always been a bit of a creep, but he’s never actually done anything to you.

The most he does is fantasize, thinking about how you’d feel clamping down on him, how’d you’d taste if he made you ride his face. What you’d look like if he forced his cock into you with barely any prep - you’d squeeze your eyes shut so tight, let out little whimpers and clench your fists because “Hurts, hurts! Go slow Nii-san, don’t want this!”

But he wouldn’t have to listen, you’re just a naive little girl who doesn’t know that Shigaraki would be trying to make you feel good too, that it would feel good soon.

“Stop wiggling, you’re gonna fall off.” He rasps back at you, taking his other hand off the controller to grab your waist, barely saving you from keeling over and onto the floor. You’re left to fend for yourself now, button-mashing, groaning when you finally succumb to your enemies and die a violent, gory death.

“I died! Why didn’t you help, you’re right here?!” the accusatory tone of your voice is ignored as you revert to the last save, huffing in frustration as you’re forced to start over.

“You’re never gonna learn if I’m holding your hands like that.”

Shigaraki’s glad you’ve stilled again - if you’d kept up your wiggling, he’d have to figure out a way to explain what the hard thing poking into the side of your plush little rear.

God, you had the most perfect ass.

Maybe he’s a freak, a disgusting man with fucked up morals, but Shigaraki’s always been a social outcast, seen as weird and wrong and criticized for every little thing he did.

What’s wrong with settling into the role other people were so quick to offer him?

Surely you’ve noticed his odd behavior by now, the behavior that’s picked up in the last few years. How he stares at you a little more than he should, how sometimes he slips into bed with you, murmuring some lame excuse about not being able to sleep.

The way he freezes when you give him an affectionate hug, clenching his fists by his side as your breasts are squished up against his body.

You had to have caught on to his uncharacteristic softness with you. He’s still mean and coarse and rude, but there's an underlying affection underneath the way he mocks your outfits, when he says you look like the gross character out of a manga he’s reading, how he tugs on your hair sometimes when he passes by you, wheezing out a laugh if you turn around and try to slap at him in irritation.

If you didn’t want him to be weird, you could’ve said something by now. You should’ve said something by now.

So really, it’s your own fault that he feels so comfortable being a sicko.

“Don’t tickle, I gotta focus.” You tell him, squirming away when he runs a hand experimentally over your stomach. You’re so cute, and dumb, he wants to bully you until you’re crying, say mean things and hurt your feelings only so he can kiss it better. 

But he doesn’t, because he’s a good brother.

His hand travels further up, rests right underneath your breast, almost cupping it. Still, you don’t say anything, attention on the game.

Do you want this? Are you just stupid? His affection is so obviously not normal for siblings, and yet you act like it’s fine. Maybe you’re a virgin, untainted with the knowledge of how sexual touches feel like.

The hand on your waist begins to slip under your shorts, his cold fingers quickly warmed by your skin. “Nii-san, stop that, it’s weird.”

Ah, there’s the common sense.

“I though you wanted to play the game? Don’t be a bitch.” He doesn’t really care whether you want him willingly now or not, he’s getting excited by the heat of your body, your weight on his lap.

You pause the game when his hand creeps lower into your shorts, when his fingers skim low over your tummy, too close to a private place that brothers shouldn't touch.

“Stop touching me, I don’t like that.”

“It’s not like you wouldn’t enjoy it.” He mumbles, and you stiffen in his lap, but he quickly takes his hand out of your shorts, stops cupping your soft breast.

The game gets unpaused, and you resume playing, although your attention is divided now, nervous about sitting in your brother’s lap.

Has it finally clicked? Are you thinking about what he could do to you, how he could make you feel?

“You suck at this.” Shigaraki observes, the controller shaking almost violently as you’re attacked again, overwhelmed by enemies.

“Well, maybe if you taught me how to play instead of being weird, I wouldn’t be.” You snarked, frustrated with the game, uneasy with your brother holding your hips like that.

Shigaraki rolls his eyes. You’re so dramatic, and although you have a valid point, he’s always been weird. This is nothing new, you’ve just been too thick-skulled to realize it before, which isn’t his fault.

A few more tries, and you still can’t get past the one group of enemies, dying after a few minutes every single time. You’re going to waste the batteries like that, controller jumping in your hands. 

“I can’t-” You whine, coming across the enemies after your latest death, already knowing what’s going to happen.

Shigaraki stays silent, red eyes finally flickering away from your body and up to the screen of the TV. 

You’re at one of the hardest parts of the game, facing a section that took Shigaraki two days to beat (not that he’ll tell you that). He grins as you throw yourself into the fight, immediately getting decked.

The noises you’re letting out are cute, frustrated groans on each hit landed on your player, muttered curses and triumphant scoffs whenever you manage to strike an enemy, which isn’t often.

The controller’s still shaking like crazy, and you’re moving around in his lap again, and Shigaraki is done. He can’t take this anymore, you’re being a tease.

He snatches the Xbox controller out of your hands, ignoring your little “Hey! What’re you doing, I was playing!”

“You call this playing?” The shuddering of the controller surprises him, gives him an idea.

There hadn’t been a plan, he had just been acting on instinct, hands itching to push you off his lap and to the floor, just to see the way you’d look up at him after. 

Like that, you’d be in the perfect position to suck his cock.

But he wants to go in a different direction now.

“Stay still, you’re so annoying.” He’s spreading his legs out, sinking back further in his chair to get a better angle, your legs hooked over his.

There’s no time for you to protest. Like this, you’re spread out nicely, exposed, even though your shorts cover your intimate place.

Without any further preamble, Shigaraki shoves the vibrating controller up against your clothed cunt.

“NIi-san!” You shriek, immediately writhing in his hold. But Shigaraki has an arm locked around your chest, keeping you pinned to his chest. “Don’t, think sins’t-this isn't-! Stop this, stop! Don’t touch me!”

He can bet it feels good, that you’re struggling to tell him to stop. He begins rubbing the controller against you, snickering at the way you jolt and writher on each pass of the hard, curved plastic against your protected clit. He can’t even imagine how good it would feel if your stupid shorts weren’t in the way.

“Stop, stop! Stop it! Stop!” You sound like a broken record.

“Shut up, you can’t even play the game right. Feel that?” the controller gets rubbed harder against you, and you writhe. “That’s how bad you are. So pathetic, can’t even fend off a couple of bad guys.”

Can’t even fend off one, Shigaraki thinks to himself. You could be trying harder to get out of his hold, could be screaming and yelling and scratching and kicking.

Well, you are scratching and kicking, moving around so much that he’s having a hard time keeping you still. And you making a lot of noise, but there’s no one else home.

He’s fully hard, and every movement you make struggling rubs him right up against the meat of your ass, and he sucks in a stuttered breath, biting his lip.

“No, no, no, no, don’t want this Nii-san, stop it-” Your panicked pleas are ignored, Shigaraki shoving your hands away as you try to pull the controller off of your cunt, get the vibrations to stop.

On screen, the player is still getting attacked, each new hit making the controller vibrate even harder.

“Ow, ow! It hurts, make it stop! Nii-san-”

“I’ll gag you if you don’t stop complaining.” Shigaraki seethes, feeling irritation creep up. “It hurts because you’ve never felt this good before, idiot.”

He remembers the first time he’d used something on his dick. It was your toothbrush, unsurprisingly, the one that vibrated with three different speeds and made you so proud of your pearly whites.

It had been so overwhelming, he couldn’t even touch the back of the head to his cock. At times, it felt so good it had hurt, had completely blinded his senses and leave him in a puddle of his own cum and sweat, panting.

So Shigaraki understood what you were trying to say - your inexperienced body needed him to slow down, ease up a little. But your gross, nasty brother wanted to ruin you.

Your character on screen died, resulting in one last heavy vibration that made you sob, thighs struggling to snap shut, hands desperately pushing at Shigaraki.

He felt you convulse in his grip, could practically feel the way your little hole was clenching as you gushed all over yourself, whining and moaning at the pleasure.

Your character was sent back to the last save, the game on a loading screen.

But Shigaraki wasn’t done.

He was still hard against your back, rubbing himself off as best he could, but he was finding his own pleasure in watching you writhe on his lap.

The controller was tossed to the side, nimble fingers sliding over your shorts, Shigaraki laughing at what he found.

“You’re so wet, holy fuck. That’s disgusting, wow.” You were drenched, the fabric of your shorts completely soaked with your juices. You only sobbed out a pitiful noise, maybe trying to deny it, but Shigaraki wasn’t listening. He was too busy rubbing over the wet spot, gleefully feeling you up. It was easy for his fingers to find a comfortable, mind-numbing rhythm, so used to playing games and deftly pushing buttons, using sticks and joysticks, directional pads and the like.

You were rocking against his hand unconcsiously, body unable and unwilling to decided whether to pull away or push closer - you had just cum, but that didn’t negate the vicious, heady sensation that his fingers brought.

Shigaraki quickly grew bored of this though, unable to ignore his dripping erection. He had never been a patient man, quickly removing the hand stimulating your swollen pussy so he could pull his cock out of his sweatpants.

With a quick movement, your shorts were tugged down, your brother completely pushing past your refusal to lift your hips, burning your skin with how forcefully the fabric was ripped down.

“Nii-san, what are you doing-you can’t, you can’t!” You cried, renewing your struggle when you felt skin against skin, his cock hot and velvety as it rested against your cheeks. “I don’t wanna do this, don’t make me do this-”

“I don’t care. I’ve tried to be good, and it’s like you don’t even care.” The man ground out, beginning to rut his hips against your ass. It was dry, and it didn’t feel great, but it was more than enough to satisfy Shigaraki. “I barely touch you, I keep my hands to myself-”

Which was a lie. Late at night, when he was sure you were fast asleep, he’d touch, just a little. Rubbing your nipples, feeling them peak under his touch. Feeling the curve of your waist, skin soft against his dry palms.

“-I wouldn’t stare either, but you wear those stupid shirts-” The deep cut ones, the ones that showed off your cleavage and allowed him weeks of jerk-off material.

“So annoying, just a stupid little imoto that follows me around, you just want attention.”

He knows you don’t do it on purpose. You aren’t trying to make him see you in a sexual light. But maybe that’s what makes it all the more appealing, how naive and innocent you are.

Fuck, he’s getting close just thinking about your purity, how much you don’t know, how much he could teach you.

He doesn’t know a ton, but Shigaraki knows enough about what feels good for him, and you probably wouldn’t want to learn, but he deserved something nice every once in a while, didn’t he?

The drag of his cock between your ass cheeks was making him loose his mind, the slide too rough, but it felt delicious and stimulated him just right, pulling at his foreskin and spreading his precum into a sticky mess on your skin.

“Fuck, stay still, lemme feel good-” His voice was choked up, still holding it’s usual nasal resonance. 

You sobbed in his hold, his fingers still playing over your shorts, exploring, keeping you occupied and frozen with sensation while he got himself off with your body.

And then he was breaking, splurting his seed all over your lower back, watching it come out of his cock in shaky squirts, painting your skin a cloudy white.

Shigaraki groaned, eyes transfixed to the sight before him. It was hard to keep them open, body shaking with little snaps of pleasure in his veins, in his stomach.

On the bed next to his thigh, the controller started shaking again. Panting, Shigaraki raised his eyes to the TV screen as you slumped against him, softly crying.

Your character was getting attacked again.

“Let’s keep playing.”

And the vibrating controller was pressed to your bare cunt, making you scream.

He’d have to wash it after this, but he figured it was worth it in the grand scheme of things

[palbabor-writes]

oh my god! your writing is amazingggg. may i please have a creepy! shiggy, dabi or hawks whichever one is easier for you where they really like the reader so they do yk normal creepy stuff like stealing her underwear and humping her bed and one day they get caught and they thought she’d be disgusted but she’s lowkey into it and she’s just super sweet and praising and a HUGE SERVICE TOP. I think they just need some good pussy 😔 if you decide to do this then THANK YOUUUU

｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ you’re too nice nonnie & tysm. i’m glad you’re here!

warnings: general degeneracy, masterbation, handjobs, SMUT, panty sniffin’   

You make a point to leave your room unlocked.

Oh, you’ll switch it up, every so often, just so he has something to work for, but  you prefer to pressure him with a time crunch instead of a locked door. It’s always so much fun. You make a show of dashing up the steps, feet thudding heavily on the warped wood. Then, right when you’re on the threshold, gosh, how could you be so daft, so thoughtless! You’d left your supplies downstairs, again! You’d forget your head if it wasn’t attached to your shoulders. Silly, silly, silly.

The display does what you need it to, namely, giving him the chance to slink away. He’s always whisper quiet when he creeps into your space, it’s a miracle you’d caught him. But, even super-villains find themselves on the back foot sometimes, and boy, was he clumsy about this. 

It wasn’t like him. That was the slip up. No, his one, original, mistake was a simple one.

He’d left evidence of his arousal, of his lewd, heated, heart thudding, want. It was tacky, sticky, absolutely dripping with the milky residue of him. He’d tried to bury it deep, pressing it down into the bowels of your hamper, likely praying that it would remain hidden and you wouldn’t question it further when you did stumble upon it, hopefully weeks later.

You didn’t like to leave your hamper open and you certainly never, ever, left it beside your bed. It had been another long day and, at first, you’d only given it a swift glance, replaying the events of the night before. Maybe you’d lugged it over, too tired to pace the small distance? You had been in a rush. It was plausible.

Kicking your boots to the floor, you raise a hand to lower the lid of your plastic hamper when you spot the cascade of clothing. Again, it’s a tiny, tiny, fragment, but he should know better. It’s your job to notice the small, the obscure. Retcon is your bread and butter and this is too much, too tempting to ignore. 

Fingers follow the hollowed space his arm has left behind and you hit the panties, seconds later. They’re warm, wet, and you clutch them into your palm and pull.    

Fuck.

The lace is soaking. Fresh lines of cum run in thick rivulets, falling down your upturned hand and along your wrist, dribbling onto your bare feet. For a moment, you can’t seem to process the image that’s before you, your mind whirring through the possibilities, the faces. Who...no...which one of them did this?

The next morning, you’re quiet. It’s not unnatural. After all, it’s freaking 7 am, no one at the bar is talking. As you sip on your chilled, canned, coffee, your eyes carefully size up the men who are lounged around you. 

Shigaraki is perusing a newspaper, the pallid hand of father obscuring his face, but you can still catch sight of the red glint of his eyes. He looks bored. He hadn’t even looked up when you walked in, his back bowed and head down, engrossed in his search.

Dabi is perched on one of the dilapidated couches, his long legs curled under him, flicking a bashed lighter, open and closed, open and closed. Like Shigaraki, he hadn’t lifted his gaze to you at first. He had, however, answered a question. Just the one, when you’d asked him if he had found any newbies, any potential recruits. He’d snarked his reply, his cerulean irises latching onto you with a cruel sharpness. No was his answer and you hadn’t pressed for any further elaboration.

Compress was shuffling a deck of cards. Spinner was ticking through his phone. Twice was chittering with Toga. Nothing was out of the ordinary. You finish your breakfast and tell them that you’re heading out. 

No one replies.

******

Unsurprisingly, it happened again. 

It’s a different pair of panties but the glisten of the cum is the same. So is the lowered placement, the bevel of the clothes, and the position of the hamper. However, it’s a little more calculated this time around. The lid is closed and there are no traces of his entry, no cuts or nicks on the door handle or key hole, no scattering of your things, no dip on your bed. There’s nothing. 

Alright. Two can play at this game. 

The hamper is moved, strategically maneuvered into the bathroom that your room holds. You’re careful to leave the lid propped. It looks haphazard, but it takes a precise click of the plastic to lock it into that position. You’ll be able to tell if it’s been moved. 

You tug your panties out of your dresser and count them, noting the colors, patterns, the imperfections in the lace. If you’re going to do this, you need to know what you’re working with. The inventory must be precise, each variant recognized and tallied. 

Every day, it’s a rinse and repeat process. Yank the flutter of fabrics out, spread them across your sheets and count. It’s tedious, bordering on annoying, but you wanna know. It’s like an itch. It sits right where you can’t reach and it tickles at the back of your mind. Besides, you’ve always liked a good puzzle. Although, this isn’t quite what you had in mind, you’ll take it and you’ll solve it, if it’s the last thing you do. 

Two days after you start this mind-numbing task, four pairs go missing. 

******

It’s late when you stumble back into the hideout, padding past the darkened bar and up the steps. The mission, despite its lower ranking, and pay, you think bitterly, had taken almost three days. Thankfully, the information you’d gleaned was worth it, but you’re exhausted. You’re wiping a sleepy hand across your face when you notice your door.

It’s ajar.

Instinctually, you fall to your haunches, tip toeing toward the crack, eyes narrowed, fingers curled into fists. The room is pitch black but there’s something, no, someone, in there. You can make out their outline. It’s a jagged cut that sits upon your bed and you can hear the tiny hitches and groans that they’re gasping out.

As your eyes adjust, you can see more. Your knees fall to the floor, digging into the wood and you steady yourself against the wall, eyes wide. He’s propped along your pillows and his hand is working over himself, using the friction of another pair of your panties to rub himself to completion. You can’t make out the exact shape of his cock but from the rapid fire tugs of his fist you can tell it’s long. It must be thick too, since he needs to adjust his pulls toward the tip.

He’s quiet, but you can still hear the catches and moans he’s making. Your name slips out too and the utterance makes your mouth go dry. So that’s who it is. Well, wonders never cease. 

In the months that you’d known him, he hasn’t paid you much mind. Even through the haze of this strange obsession, he hasn’t altered his day to day routine, hasn’t broken character, hasn’t spoken to you unless the situation absolutely called for it. 

Damn. It’s too much, it’s way, way...no. No. It’s not that it’s too much, you think, mesmerized by the sight that’s splayed across your sheets. It’s nowhere near enough. 

You want to march in there, yank your soiled panties off his dick and hear what kind of noises he would make for you then. Would he shove you off, or would he welcome your notice? Either way, he’s too close now.

His hips have started to rut upwards, unable to resist the rhythm he’s created. The moans have drifted into hisses and his back arches when he cums, those familiar ropes of white splashing across the pastel of your lace. He’s careful to catch the drops, pinching the end of his cock and shuddering at the overstimulation. As he sits up, you cautiously rise, unsteady on your wobbling legs. 

You’re halfway down the stairs when your door shuts. His footsteps recede down the hallway and you can hear him as he thuds into his own space, the click of his lock reverberating in your ears. 

******

Thus, the game of cat and mouse continues. 

Outwardly, neither of you reveal your hand, keeping your cards close to the chest, out of each others line of sight. Your door locks, unlocks, and you keep losing more panties. You’ve marked the one that will make the difference. It’s your new, favorite, pair. You haven’t worn them yet, but they’re a lush item, expensive, luxuriant, an excess that you don’t usually allow yourself. You’d purchased them the day after you’d finally caught sight of him. You couldn’t help it. 

Most people, you reason, would be horrified by this situation, but not you. Oh no, you’re so turned on you can barely sleep. You start to masterbate in the early evening, when you know the others are moving around, your fingers trailing past your dampened curls, a careful fingernail pricking along your clit. You’ve even left your door open, cracked, welcoming the attention of anyone passing by. Once, you could have sworn you’d heard him. The whisper of that gasp, imagined or not, had bowled you over, your thighs clamping around your wrist, your cunt pulsing around nothing, hungry, slathering, desperate for more. 

You want to just toss those panties on your bed and provoke the interaction. Goddamnit, how much longer is he gonna make you wait?

****** 

Not even 24 hours later, they’re gone. 

He’s getting reckless, too. Your hamper is knocked over, the dresser drawer that holds your underwear is a crumpled mess, and he’s deliberately left a vacant hole where the panties used to lay. It’s screaming for your attention and you can feel your heartbeat thrumming against your breast. 

Finally.  

The next mission you’re assigned is easy, too easy. It’s mid-afternoon and there’s no reason for you to be back this early. Well, that’s an oversimplification. There is a perfectly excellent reason for you to be back, you’re just hoping the sliver of intel that was dropped for you will pay off. 

Apparently, while the rest of you were out pounding the pavement, he’s elected to stay behind. He had something he needed to take care of. 

“It sounded important,” Toga informed you, her voice lilting, rising with that sharp toothed smile of hers. 

“Why are you telling me this,” you’d asked her, biting your lip and crossing your legs, soothing the throb that’s pricking in your core. 

“He just told me to tell you, didn’t ask him anything more. You know how he is. He can be, prickly,” Toga winks, popping her head to the side, bouncing her golden locks. 

“Alright,” you reply, adding a mask of disdain and disinterest to your performance. “I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” 

Lies, lies. 

So many fucking lies, but he must know that you realize, that you know. Why else enlist Toga? He hated having to lay things out. No, he must know, he has to.    

The bar is empty and the upper floors are deathly still.

Your door is sensibly shut but you can make out his jerks, his gasps, and those choked whimpers that echo past the flimsy wood. Your hand catches against the knob and you take one, last, steadying breath. 

Here we go.       

When you swing the door open he startles upward, his white hair curtaining the flush of his cheeks. Those vermillion irises land on you and he vaults away, nearly tumbling off the side of your bed. His pants are still bunched around his thighs, so that hinders him from making a true getaway. As he’s fumbling with the dark material, you don’t miss the shake of his hands and the spread of that lovely blush.

Oh, this is too perfect.

Before he can finish tucking himself back in his pants, you’re dashing across the top of your bed, ignoring the discarded panties, ignoring the dark glare that he gives you, ignoring everything but that heated bulge that’s giving him so much trouble. 

Impatient, your fingers curl around his wrists and you use the millisecond of surprise that your swift action has gifted you. With a low gasp, he falls forward, his knees sinking into the softness of your mattress. One hand lowers to brace himself, but he’s careful to keep a finger arched away, preserving the permanence of your bed. Before he can get his bearings, you’re pressing him onto his back, straddling his lean hips and lowering those dark pants back down. 

His cock, badly concealed by the upper line of his boxers, springs out, curving proudly toward his muscled stomach. For his part, Shigaraki squirms under you, his scarred lip set in a forbidding scowl. His deadly hands lower to yours, but you ignore his unspoken threat, knocking his trembling digits away. Your  fingers lace around his cock, squeezing at the heft of him, stroking up the spidery veins and grooves until he’s dropping his defiant head back against your sheets. 

“Wh-what the fuck do you think you’re doing?” he growls, his raspy voice halting over the question. 

“Who? Me?” you laugh, tugging a few more gasps from his shaking lips. There’s a pale strand of precum that’s leaking from his tip and you brush your thumb over it, gathering it against the pad and using it to ease your motions. His hips buck up and he shoves himself into your fist, a long string of curses slipping through his clenched teeth. 

“I don’t think you get to ask that, dear leader,” you tease, leaning over his prone form. You’re glad he’s forgone wearing that creepy hand. It hadn’t even come into your calculations of how all of this would go. “No, not with the way you’ve been behaving.”

“I-I didn’t...fuck–” 

“What? Didn’t think I’d find out?”

“You’re not supposed to be here. I sent you on that– ah– that mission for a reason,” Shigaraki bites out, shifting away from your close inspection. You smile at his discomfort and cup your free hand around his chin, yanking him back to you, forcing him to look up. 

“That’s too bad, cus’ I finished early. Looks like I’m just that good, huh?” 

He’s seething up at you, his eyes gleaming in the low light of your room, but he’s not making any attempts to leave. He may want to, but it seems his body has other plans. His cock is swelling as you pick up your tempo, your fingers clenching and releasing as you go, edging him along. 

“You ever fucked a girl?” you ask, leaning back to admire the tense enjoyment of the man under you. The muscles of his stomach, coil and writhe, flexing each time you hit his tip and relaxing as you make the swift pass back down. 

“N-no,” he moans, jerking his hips up, silently demanding that you pick up the pace. 

“Did you want to?” you whisper, lowering to his face again, letting your soft lips trace along his temple. His skin is rough, but you like the contrast. Shigaraki seems to enjoy it too, his eyes slipping behind his eyelids as he turns toward you. When he doesn’t answer, you slow the hand that’s passing over the strain of his length. Shigaraki hisses at the shift and his eyes pop open again. They burn as they blaze up at you, clearly echoing his displeasure. 

“Asked you a question,” you scold. He’s quiet for a long breath, but, after a few tense seconds, he lowers his eyes and nods, his jaw tight. “Should I take that as a yes?”

“I want you to fuck me,” Shigaraki grumbles, flashing a quick glare your way. “Was that clear enough for you?”

“Yes, sir,” you reply, one delicate eyebrow arching at his disgruntled expression.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” he huffs, grimacing as you lift your hand from him, freeing yourself to yank your shirt off. 

“What do you want me to call you?” you ask, unbuttoning your jeans and easing them down the curve of your hips. 

“My fucking name.”

“Shigaraki?”

“No. Tomura,” he replies, his voice falling into that deep rasp again. He’s watching you closely and you grin down at his frank assessment. 

“Alright, Tomura,” you begin, testing out the unfamiliar acknowledgement. “Let’s make this good for you, hmm? What are you wanting to try first?”

He’s silent and you can hear the grinding of his teeth. “What’s better for you?”

Oh. Well, that’s not a question you were expecting. “For me? Uh, I guess I prefer to be on top. Let’s me control things and–”

“So do that,” he shrugs, finally peeling those dark pants off his long legs. He leaves his shirt on, but it doesn’t matter, if you’re riding him it’s not like you can’t tuck your hands under the tattered fabric.

“After acting like such a creep, you’re being pretty nonchalant about all of this,” your fingers wander along his sides and he shudders again, his neck bowing off the bedding. 

“You’re one to fucking talk. Think I didn’t know what you were doing?”

“Ha! Well, well. No wonder you took my bait so easily. When did you figure me out?”

“That night you sat outside your door and watched me,” his hands raise to your hips and he urges you to hurry up, grunting when your dripping cunt traces over his tip. “Then you left your fucking door open. Not just once, either, no, you did it for days. It was a whole fucking week of that shit. Didn’t even need to steal a pair of your slutty little panties to smell you then. You reeked. I could smell you from my room.” 

You laugh, helping him to press up and he glides into you, stretching you, radiating a satisfying ache along the slippery heat of your walls. His legs lift and his hands fall from your hips. Once you’re fully seated, your pelvis flush with his, you give him a few gulping breaths. 

“Ahh, fuck, oh– fucking damn it. Ohh, this feels nice. God, you feel so fucking good,” he mumbles, his voice falling into a hysterical edge. You bite your lip and raise up on your knees, making sure you grip him tightly as you go. Another mantra of obscenities drop from his lips and his feet brace against the bed, his hips rutting blindly as you begin that slow lift and lower.

“How’s that?” you query, moaning when he returns those broad hands to your hips. His reply is a sharp thrust and you’re tipped forward, forced to sprawl over him, fingers digging for purchase in his dark shirt. He grunts at the weight of you but he keeps his pace up, using the bed as leverage. 

You’re so close to him and you can’t help but reach for his face, suddenly desperate to feel his lips against yours. He doesn’t fight your hold, but he does let out a long groan when you tentatively kiss him. It’s slow at first and you’re very conscious of those dangerous hands of his. They’re still braced against your hips, but the four digits are starting to dig into your skin, sinking into the vulnerable dips until you’re whining. 

He’s unsure, so you help him along. 

You suck and nip at him, teasing him until he’s raising his head for more. Finally, one of those powerful hands detaches from your waist and he snatches at the back of your neck, insisting that you let him explore you further. After a time, you need air more than you need his lips, so you shake yourself free, pulling away and grinding your hips down as he ruts into you again. 

“Not bad,” you tell him, grinning when he swipes his tongue over his swollen lips, his eyes lifting to peer up at you curiously. “Want me to take it up a notch?”

“No,” he replies sharply. “I like this.”

You snort at his blunt response and give him what he’s asked for. You keep the drags of your lifts slow, enjoying how he throbs and swells inside you. Each time you rise, you roll your hips and he sighs at every minor clench that your pussy does. After a time, you can’t ignore the pulsations of your impatient clit, so your fingers trail downward, delicately rolling and grinding against the bud. 

Tomura tilts his head at this and his hazy vermillion snags your attention. “Does...does that feel good?” 

For a second, you’re unsure what he means, but when his hand ghosts over yours, you realize. “Mmhm,” you gasp, giving yourself a quicker tweak, delighting in the widening of his eyes when your cunt flushes another wave of arousal around him. It slicks between your thighs and pools around his pelvis, gleaming against the dark curls that rest there. 

“Lemme try,” he demands, batting your hand away and replacing your fingers with his own. He’s clumsy and he’s not expecting it to be that slippery, but he’s a quick study and he watches your face expectantly each time he tries something different. 

“Y-you’re doing so good, Tomura,” you praise, lingering on his name, pleased that he reacts so positively to it. “Just a little bit...oh fuck...yeah, right there is perfect.”

You’re not being facetious either, he’s honestly killing you with those earnest looks and careful prods. Each time you gasp, he presses just a fraction more, testing out his new skills and expanding on them. As a reward, you keep the positive reinforcement coming, calling out his name as you fuck him into you, loving how he keeps pulsating and groaning each time you sink down. 

A thin misting of sweat is beading over both of you, but you ignore the heat, too close to care that you’re starting to falter a bit in your rhythm. Tomura is panting also, losing some of that focus as he races toward his own release.

“Harder, ride me fucking harder, (Y/N),” he commands. The sight of him gasping and groaning out your name gives you an idea. You acquiesce to his demand but as you start those quick pumps your fingers reach behind you, searching for something that you think he’ll like even more. 

Ah-ha!

It’s an older pair, not as frilly as the one’s you’d saved for him, but you’ve been wearing them all day, so that scent he was complaining about should be nice and ripe. His eyes have winced shut, so the flop of your lace panties startles him. He tenses for a second, but once he notices what you’ve given him a wicked smirk curls his lips. Instantly, his hand leaves your clit and he presses the fabric to his face, huffing heavily against the crotch. 

“You fucking tease,” he groans, his tongue tracing along the seams, lapping at the thin residue that you’ve undoubtedly left behind. “Ahhh, yes. I think I would have rather had you sit on my face, but this will work, for now.” 

The threat in his voice makes you shiver and you rock forward as you lower, snagging the sharp edge of his pelvis against your clit. Tomura takes in another deep breath at the sensation, his hand still holding your saliva filled panties to his lips. Just a little bit more. Your fingers tweak and pull, rolling the way you need. The heavy sting of Tomura’s cock is helping too and your pussy greedily begins to tighten around him, earning you a sputtered groan from the man beneath you.

“D-do that again,” he sighs, shifting your panties down his face so he can watch you. Obediently, you flick at your clit again and that stimulation, plus the heady knowledge that Tomura is watching, memorizing every move you make, hurtles you over the edge and you can’t help but slump forward as your orgasm crashes over you. Tomura lets out a guttural moan, flinging your panties away and yanking you to his parted lips. His kiss is frantic, nonsensical, more bites and slurps than any kind of caress, but you fall into his arms, overwrought and too turned on to think. 

Once he’s had his fill of your lips, he resumes that steady pounding, his powerful hips canting into you, peppering you with jagged thrusts that leave you gasping. 

“What’s the matter?” he taunts, his voice a wild rasp in your ear. “Can’t take anymore? Am I too much for you?” 

You don’t trust yourself to reply, already seconds away from another shuddering release. All it takes is the feeling of him swelling and the heat of his cum to reduce you to a gasping mess again. This time, a thin line of drool escapes your lips. Delighted, Tomura snags his hand in your hair, tugging until you’re hovering over him. Gluttonously, he laps at your lips, sucking until you’re not sure who’s making the bigger slob of themselves. 

When he’s finished, he rolls you off of him, splaying you out on the bed. As the world falls back into focus, you catch sight of him, leering over you, his white hair cascading around the two of you. 

“I don’t think I’m done yet,” he grins, one hand cupping under your jaw. “Besides, you could have given me this weeks ago. I think you owe me a few back payments. Don’t cha’ think?”

notes: ahaha. this is basically a full fledged fic. whoops. 

did i have anyone wondering if i was gonna pick Tomura or Dabi?                                        

[demetriandelibinaryboyfriends]

Fake dating au where demetris on his third strike with the school counselor so when they're about to fight again he holds his hand instead. Hawk cant help but blush and counselor Blatt jumps to conclusions and tries to be overly accepting

PFFFFT okay this is fuckin great

Like I’m just imagining Demetri doing the PETTIEST bullshit to get back at Hawk for that destroying-his-science-project business, like he writes “COBRA KAI SUCKS” all over his locker in sharpie in cleverly-disguised handwriting or pours soda on Hawk’s karate equipment and tough dude sportsballs (because come ON--Eli’s had the same locker combination for years, and just because he’s badass now doesn’t mean it would occur to him to change it) or steals his portable hair gel so that the ‘hawk will be sad and sagging by 6th period, and as soon as Hawk catches on to what’s going on, it doesn’t take long for him to figure out who’s behind all this chicanery. And he fuckin goes RIGHT up to Demetri during the next passing period (he knows exactly what part of the school that little nerd is in because he figured out and memorized Demetri’s class schedule SOLELY for harassment purposes and not because he likes him or anything) like “BRO YOU WANNA GO YOU WANNA FUCKIN GO” and Demetri gets ready to fight like “COME AT ME ASSHOLE” and Demetri’s getting ready to throw the world’s meanest punch to start the brawl (because his douchebag ex-best-friend ain’t the only one who can strike first) when the accursed Counselor Blatt rounds the corner.

She turns and fixes an icy glare right on them, and Demetri has to think fast. He unclenches his fist mid-punch and wraps a hand around Eli’s wrist. Eli’s hand flexes out in surprise, and before he can react, Demetri’s fingers have found their way up his wrist and laced with his own. Hawk’s face goes redder than his (already, sadly, beginning to sag) mohawk.

And fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hawk was absolutely not prepared for this. He absolutely was not prepared for the same goddamn helpless sensation of vertigo to hit as that time he held Demetri’s hand during Red Rover in the 6th grade (how in the hell did a couple of losers like them get invited to play, anyways? The teacher probably made the other kids include them or something). And Hawk fucking hates how warm and pleasant Demetri’s hand feels in his own, and how it fills him with the same hopeless longing that he hoped he could punch away into oblivion as soon as Kreese started training him.

But here comes that stupid-ass counselor, and something tells him that now is not the time to yank his hand away and slam Demetri into the lockers behind them, no matter how much he would like to.

“Demetri? Eli?” Counselor Blatt looks back and forth between the two of them, perplexed. “What’s this?”

“What’s what, Counselor Blatt?” Demetri pulls Hawk closer and swings his other arm around the shorter boy’s shoulders. Hawk can only bristle in barely-concealed rage.

“Did I just...see you about to punch Eli?” she continues. “When you’ve been to our seminar on respectful alternatives to physical aggression?”

“Oh no, you misunderstand!” Demetri laughs, and Hawk wants to smack him. God, his laugh is annoying. He’s annoying. Hawk wants to scream into a wall and he’s not sure why.

“I was just in a hurry to hold my boyfriend’s hand,” he goes on gleefully. “I haven’t seen him all day! Is that okay with you, Counselor Blatt?” He gives the counselor a challenging stare, and Hawk almost feels sorry for the woman and how utterly lost she is.

“I thought you were upset with Mr. Moskowitz here for ruining your science project,” Counselor Blatt says slowly.

“Oh, that?” Demetri snorts. “We were just on a little break. I think that was my indication that good ol’ Eli wasn’t taking it too well. But we worked everything out, and it’s alllll good now!”

He gives the counselor his most winning grin, and Hawk just turns to gape at him. Out of all the absurd directions Demetri could’ve taken this thing, framing him throwing a soccer ball across the cafeteria to smash Demetri’s project as a couple’s fight was one Hawk had not seen coming.

But then again...that did kind of let him off the hook, didn’t it? If all of his messing with Demetri was nothing but silly relationship drama. After all, Counselor Blatt hadn’t lifted a finger when the utter spectacle that was Kyler and Sam LaRusso’s breakup had ravaged the school’s gossip chain.

“You know, you really should be more accepting of LGBT relationships,” Hawk says, making a point to pull out the kicked puppy expression. “It’s hurtful enough that my boyfriend and I get as many stares as we do from other students.”

“I...! Well! I mean!” Counselor Blatt splutters, looking everywhere but their eyes. “I think it’s great you boys are able to...express yourselves so freely! I want this school to be an environment where students of all sexualities are able to be themselves. I’m so happy West Valley High is such a diverse place!” She smiles, brightly but still very confused.

“With all due respect, Counselor Blatt, we’re not just some token gay couple.” Hawk doesn’t let up on the puppy dog eyes. “We’re just two guys who love each other. That’s all. All we want is to be accepted for who we are.”

He feels Demetri stiffen beside him with surprise, but the grip on his hand and around his shoulder doesn’t loosen in the slightest.

Demetri’s really acting like he doesn’t want to let go. He’s really committing to this façade.

Makes sense. When they were in middle school, Demetri always tried to be the class clown--not that it ever worked. Eli would always cheer him up by insisting he had a natural talent for improv. The kid isn’t half bad at acting, he’ll admit.

“And...you are accepted!” Counselor Blatt reassures awkwardly. “I’m...sorry I misunderstood your relationship, boys. I should be better about checking my heterosexual privilege.”

“Not to worry!” Demetri says cheerily. “Anyone who works at being a good ally to the community is always appreciated!”

Hawk resists the urge to roll his eyes. What was this, a fucking gay Sesame Street episode?

“Sorry again, Demetri. Eli. Have a nice day.”

As soon as Counselor Blatt shuffles around the corner and out-of-sight, Hawk tears his hand away (as...reluctant as he admittedly is to do so. Feeling another hand curled around his made him feel calmer and safer than he had in months, no matter what utter pussy’s it was. Disgusting. Kreese would never train him again if he found out, that was for sure.). He shoves Demetri hard--not into the lockers, not in any way that’ll make a noise to be noticed, but enough to knock the wind out of that fucking runt.

“What the fuck was that?” Hawk snarls.

Demetri crosses his arms and glowers at him. “I just saved both of us from a month of detention. It was only so long before she figured out Cobra Kai’s the aggressor around here just as much as Miyagi-Do is.”

Hawk surges forward and tries to shove him again, but Demetri is ready this time and quickly blocks. “What the hell was your grand plan, anyways?” he scoffs. “Pick a fight with me in the middle of the school day?”

Demetri sighs, starting to back away. “Eli, Eli, Eli. I know you’ve got a good brain in there, buddy. Maybe start using it, if all the punches to the head haven’t messed it up too much.”

He taps his head a couple times before turning and disappearing into the throng of students around them. Hawk groans.

Mitch doesn’t make matters better as they walk away. “Dude, were you blushing?”

“Shut the fuck up, man! I was just fucking embarrassed!”

Bert sniggers. “I’ll say. Should I start planning the wedding?”

“Don’t make me fucking deck you! Look...he wanted to stay out of trouble, and I realized I could spin it to our advantage. So I did. We’re in the clear for now.”

“Yeah, only took a bit of...hand-to-hand combat,” Mitch snickers. “What’s next? Judo wrestling him in the janitor’s closet?” He and Bert break out in giggles, and Hawk shoots them both his most seething glare.

“If you mention any of this to Sensei Kreese, I will kill you,” Hawk growls.

“Fair enough,” Mitch says, shrugging. Bert nods in agreement.

Hawk reminds himself to wail especially hard on both of them during practice today.

[hoe4almondmilk]

Safety Net: Chapter 3

Present! Carol Denning/Reader

Trigger Warning: There is mentions of Attempted sexual assault, nothing in detail though. 

“Oh, don’t be like that! Just give me a piece and I won’t make an arrest for reckless driving and possession.” The cop chuckled as he attempted to grab your shoulder.

“I said get the fuck away from me!” you yelled. You could smell the alcohol on his breath as his face approached yours. 

He grabbed you by the shoulders, everything was happening so fast and yet it felt like it was all in slow motion. That's when you grabbed his gun from his waist and shot him.

You gasped, sitting up quickly. Your heart was pounding and your skin was slick with sweat from the nightmare. It took a few moments to finally catch your breath.

“Oh my god.” You groaned quietly, as you rubbed your eyes from exhaustion.

This was your first nightmare in a very long time. The last time you had a nightmare was back when you first arrived at camp but that was years ago and you were on antidepressants. You had almost forgotten how real they felt. How they brought you back to that horrific moment. The moment your life was turned upside down and changed for the worst. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Carol groaned in a grumpy tone from underneath her bunk in a groggy voice interrupting your thoughts.

“Nothing. Just a nightmare.” You replied blankly as you laid back down.

After a few minutes of silence you heard Carol ask “You okay, kid?” Maybe you were delusional from being tired but you could’ve sworn you heard the slightest bit of concern in Carol’s voice.

“Not even a little bit.” You whispered as you attempted to hold back the tears.

It felt almost like hours before you could fall back asleep, scared your nightmare would continue if you closed your eyes.

“Wake the fuck up, Inmate.” C.O. Hellman yelled as he smacked the door of your cell, making a large clap noise that made you jump up from your sleep.

“Okay, I’m awake.” You groaned, as you rubbed your eyes and slid down from your bunk. You must’ve slept in pretty late, considering Carol was absent from her bunk. 

After getting changed into your navy scrubs and brushing your teeth, you made your way out of your cell into the common area. 

You scanned the room to see Carol at her usual spot playing bridge with the other women. 

You and Carol were on good terms now after your agreement the other night. An hour before lights out she’d even spend some time with you, giving you a bridge lesson. Still you still really weren’t sure if you were on that level of familiarity with her yet to just go sit at her table. You looked over to see your two favorite people Piper and Alex and made your way towards them.

“Well, someone slept in pretty late.” Alex said as she looked up from her book.

“Yeah, I had some trouble sleeping last night and I guess my body made up for it.” You groaned and you got comfortable in your seat.

“(L/N), what happened to you the other night? I can still see the bruises on your neck.” Piper inquired.

“Oh, shit.” Alex hissed as she leaned in to take a closer look at the now yellow bruising on your neck.

“I’d rather not talk about it.” Your hand rubbed your neck as a pathetic attempt to shield the bruises. 

“Was it Badison?” Piper’s eyes widened. “You see Alex, I told you Badison is fucking crazy.” 

“Chapman, shush!” You hushed Piper. “Seriously, watch what you say around here.” 

“So it was Badison?” Piper whispered.

“Jesus, yes, Chapman. Listen, I have it taken care of, okay?.” You groaned, you did not want what happened to you the other night in the showers happening to her.

“If you say so.” Piper sighed as she looked over to Alex in hopes for a response. Alex just shrugged her shoulders. 

“Well, speak of the devil.” Alex warned as Badison made her way over to your table.”

“Hey lezzies, sorry to interrupt but Carol wants to see Mouse.” Badison chuckled. “Now.” She demanded.

“Well, off I go.” You sighed as you got up from your spot following the rambunctious blonde.

It’s safe to say you probably should’ve sat with Carol when you entered the common room. Hopefully, she’s not too upset. How could you have known? You gulped out of nervousness. What if you did piss her off? If Badison could get two girls to jump you in the shower imagine the damage Carol could do if she really wanted to. 

You quickly snapped out of your thoughts when you made it over to Carol’s table. Akers, Creech, Teng, Brock, Chambal and of course Carol were all sitting at the table. Badison sat down in front of Carol. You could feel not only her eyes on you but the eyes of the other women who sat around Carol. 

“Brock, move.” Carol said not looking up from her cards.

Brock rolled her eyes as she got up and away from her spot next Carol.

Carol looked up from her the cards in her hands and met your eyes with hers. “Sit.” 

You nodded and sat next to her, filling in Brock’s spot.

“It’s your turn to switch in.” Carol slid the deck of cards to you.

“What is she doing here?” Teng grunted obviously annoyed by your presence at the table. 

You couldn’t really blame her, Badison did order her to go jump you and made you out to be an enemy, yet here you were sitting next to Carol playing bridge.

Carol looked up from her cards and glared at Teng. “She works with us now.”

“So, Mouse. What the fuck are you in here for?” Badison smirked. You could feel the eyes of everyone at the table on you, except Carol who was too focused on the cards in her hands. 

“I’d really rather not talk about it.” You replied as you drew a couple of cards trying to focus on the game. 

You actually hadn’t told really anyone about why you were in prison in the first place but camp was small so word got around and so did rumors about what you had done, most of which weren’t true. You didn’t care, let them think what they want. You wanted to do your time and leave this place behind. But of course, your luck, the riot happened as you only had three years left of your seven year sentence. 

You were at maximum now, things were different here. You were surrounded by some of the most violent types of offenders. Maybe you should’ve been here in the first place. No, you shouldn’t. You did what you had to do.

 “Probably something petty, you did come here from minimum.” She chuckled. “Ain’t nothin tough about you.” It took everything in you not to roll your eyes at her. 

“Madison.” Carol cautioned with a glare. After a few moments of silence, Carol asked “Are you gonna tell us?”, as she glanced over at you waiting for an answer.

Should you lie? No, no definitely not. Carol was the boss, she could probably have a CO find out for her if she really wanted to and she'd have your head if she found out you lied to her.

 “I shot a cop.” You muttered as you pulled another card from the deck. You looked up when you noticed the wave of silence that washed over the entire table. Everyone was shocked to say the least. Even Carol whose face normally wore a blank expression looked slightly surprised with one of her eyebrows raised. 

“Damn, Mouse is a cop killer!” Creech laughed. 

“Yo, that’s badass!” Akers joined in with Creech. Both women were laughing in unison.

“Bullshit.” Badison laughed. “You just want to look tough.”

“It’s true.” You replied, as you sank further into your seat. Just wanting the attention to shift away from you. 

And unfortunately you were telling the truth but you couldn’t blame her for not believing you or anyone for that matter. You hated people finding out what you did. You didn’t necessarily regret what happened but you hated the way people saw you after you told them. Especially in prison, it gave a false image of you. You weren’t a violent person nor did you ever try to appear as one.

“Then why were you in minimum “cop killer”?'' Badison leaned forward, asking almost as if she was challenging you. Everything was a competition to her. 

You slammed the cards down on the table. “Not that it’s any of your business, Badison, but I didn’t kill him and it was self defense.” 

“I’m not buying it.” Badison continued.

“I don’t have to prove anything to you, Badison.” You scoffed, as you once again tried to center your focus back to the game. 

“Well that’s a shame cause you really sho-“

“Madison.” Carol interrupted her mid sentence “Stop.” Her eyes burning onto the loud blonde, obviously having enough of Badison starting petty pointless fights. 

You tried your best to stop the corners of your mouth from curving into a small smile. It was nice knowing Carol was keeping her end of the deal. 

Badison gulped and did as Carol said. 

“You know what,” Carol put her deck of cards down. “Madison, Scat.”

“What?” Badison asked almost dumbfounded.

“Unless you can play bridge well, all of a sudden, go. You’re annoying me.” Carol continued her glare at Badison.

“Fine.” Badison stood up from her spot and slowly trudged off, anger obvious in every step. 

Normally you would’ve been scared but you weren’t. Badison knew she was already crossing the line with Carol’s patience. She knew not to fuck with you like she did last time. 

“Let’s start over.” Carol sighed as she began to reshuffle the thick deck of playing cards.

After an hour of non stop rounds of bridge, Carol decided to take a break. She needed to talk to Badison about their new haul of pills. You weren’t complaining, your ass was starting to hurt from sitting on the hard plastic seat for so long. You headed up the stairs to your cell to lay down for a bit. You let out a quiet groan, as you rubbed your lower back. Your lower back definitely needed a break too.

“Psst.” You heard a voice whisper to you right before you walked into your cell, stopping you in your tracks. God it better not be fuckin Badison. You looked over and almost screamed. It was Nicky. 

“Long time no see, Doll.” Nicky chuckled as she leaned against the custodial cart.

“Nicky,” It took everything in you not to run into her arms and hug the absolute shit out of her. “I- How-... What are you doing here?” 

You couldn’t believe your eyes, you hadn’t seen Nicky since you guys were in Ad Seg but you two couldn’t really even have a real conversation because of the asshole guards. 

Nicky was one of the few real friends you had at camp. You remember the day she first arrived to camp. You two had been inseparable since and not that you would ever admit it but at one point you had a slight crush on her. You never mentioned it nor would you ever mention it to her because you value your friendship with Nicky more.

“What, not happy to see me?” She chuckled as she faked a pout.

You looked around to make sure no one was looking, seriously not needing another jumping. You smiled looking back at her, “I’m so happy, if I could hug you and not get jumped I would.” 

Nicky’s smile quickly faded when her eyes landed on your neck, “A second time? What the fuck happened?” 

You groaned, damn how long were these bruises gonna stay. “I don’t want to talk about it, it won’t happen again.”

 Nicky rolled her eyes and she gripped the mop in her hands tighter, her anger was obvious.“Who did that to you? I swear I’ll-“

“You’ll what? You’ll get jumped too, Nicky. It’s not like camp. Red can’t protect us here. Where is she anyway? Is she in D-Block with you?” The last time you saw Red was in Ad Seg.

“No, She must still be in Ad Seg.” Nicky looked hurt answering that. You wanted to hug her. It was painful knowing you couldn’t. 

“How are you, Nicky? Seriously, I fuckin miss you.” You could feel your eyes watering up. 

Nicky sniffled, “I miss you too,” She wiped her eyes, “You know, I’ve been better, Lorna and her bunkie adopted a pack of rats so I’ve had to hear about that for the past four days.” Nicky chuckled.

“Ew, that’s gross.” You chuckled softly.

“Nichols!” CO Blake yelled. “There’s a spill down here!” 

“Heigh-ho, off to work I go.” Nicky groaned, as she started to wheel her cart away, She turned around to say “I miss you, kid.” sadly.

“I miss you too, Nicky. More than you could know.” You replied, you slowly turned around trying to soak up as much of her image as you could before you made your way back into your cell. 

You quickly wiped the tears from your eyes before anyone saw. You hated it here. None of you deserved to be in here. You wanted your prison family back even if it was a dysfunctional mess.

You crawled up your bunk and into your bed, plopping face down into your very thin pillow. Praying that you’d just wake up from all of this and be back home with your family before all of this mess happened. Prison was a tortuous hell. 

Snapping you out of the hypnotizing darkness that was your pillow, you heard, “It’s barely noon and you’re asleep again?”

You lifted your head up to see Carol leaning against the entrance of the cell.

You let out a groan as you flipped onto your back, as you faced the ceiling. “I wasn’t sleeping.” 

“That’s surprising.” Carol chuckled as she strolled into the cell and sat herself down on her bed. “You’re so young, what do you have to be tired about?” 

You rolled your eyes, you absolutely hated it when people told you that, it was so annoying. “You know, that’s really invalidating.” You sat up on your bed, leaning your body towards the edge of the bed so you could look at her.

Carol was hardly listening, too focused on her magazine and lollipop. “Invalidating, how so?” She gave you a glance, taking a minuscule break from her scantily clad men.

“You’re just assuming, I have nothing to worry about solely because of the fact that I'm young. I don’t even feel young because of the place. Prison has robbed me of my youth. I should be in college.” You looked up at the ceiling and sighed. “I should be anywhere but here.” 

Carol was silent for a moment, looking at you. “How long have you been in here?”

“I was eighteen, when it happened. I just graduated high school.” 

“Eighteen.” Carol repeated, She chuckled. “You were about my age when I first got here.” 

“You’ve been in here since you were eighteen?” You asked, you were shocked. Carol’s spent her whole life in this place and by the looks of how she runs things here, she wouldn’t be getting out anytime soon. 

“Crazy, isn’t it? It’s gone by so excruciatingly slow yet time flew by so fast.” She sighed as she removed her glasses from her face to rub her eyes. There was a hint of sadness and yet some passive aggressiveness in her voice. “It was originally just twenty-five years but I was betrayed by someone I cared about and so I got an extra thirty stacked on top.” She leaned her head against the wall of her bunk.

An “I’m sorry, Carol.” was all you could say, was there anything else you could say? This woman has spent her whole life in this place and was most likely going to die here, yet for some reason you thought you had the right to complain about a measly seven years.

“It doesn’t matter. I’m different now. I’ve learned not to trust anyone here so easily.” She put her glasses back on her face. There was a moment of silence. “So, exactly why did you shoot that cop, tough girl?” 

“It’s hard to talk about.” You muttered. “I have so many mixed feelings about what happened.”

“Sit down here with me.” Carol invited, scooting over to where her pillow laid.

You nodded as you climbed down from your bed to hers, not wasting this act of kindness from Carol. You knew she was cold blooded and was rarely kind to anyone. So far though, she made an exception for you. You just took it as her being nice because you were new and could offer something for her business.

You sat down on her bed, pulling your knees to your chest. “I didn’t intend to shoot him. That was the last thing I wanted to do but I didn’t have any other choice.” Your voice became hoarse as you tried to hold back the tears. 

Carol watched and listened to you in silence. 

“I had to, I wasn’t going to let him rape me. That’s what he wanted. I saw how he looked at me and how he grabbed me. I can still feel his grasp on my arms.” Tears fell from your eyes. Three years later and it was still so hard to talk about. You should be getting proper counseling, not the bullshit you were getting from Healy back at camp.

“Is that why you woke up last night?” Carol asked. You looked over at her and her expression was soft. Before it was a word that couldn’t be put with Carol. She was hard, tough and cold. Yet somehow she was showing you sympathy.

You nodded. “This was my first nightmare in years. My last one was when I first arrived at camp.” You wiped your tears away and chuckled. “What’s so fucked up is I’m the victim and yet I'm the one in prison. They decided his gunshot wound was his punishment.” 

You flinched when you felt Carol’s hand touch your back. Your muscles slowly relaxed when she began to rub your back. She didn’t say anything for a moment there. She didn’t need to. Her hand on your back was all she needed to say. This was the first time in a while you had felt someone show you slightest bit of affection. It was nice. You were touch starved.

“Thank you.” You gave Carol a small smile.

And she smiled back at you.

[rain-anonymous]

I did it again

I wrote something off of the Fictober prompt and something someone had said (sorry that I already forgot)

I'm not the happiest with the ending but I think it's alright enough, so here you go

---

Fictober #3

"I've been waiting for this."

Fandom: original fiction (Gloop family)

Rating: PG

TW: light swearing, gun mention, knife mention, kidnapping (it's consensual though, don't worry). arranged marriage

---

Rain is tired.

Fae has spent the last few hours being outfitted in the most absurd, over-the-top dress they could possibly imagine. Not to mention the heavy, overly adorned jewelry hanging from faer neck and ears.

Fae just wants out of this stupid room, away from this annoying castle, off of this horrible island. The amount of time fae has been here is far too much, and fae misses the feeling of wind combing through faer hair and water spraying on faer face. Of course, it’s not fae’s choice. After the first time fae had left the island, fae wasn’t allowed out of any of the guards’ sight. Now, to keep faer in check, fae was ordered into an arranged marriage.

Rain had met him once. He was a nice man, calm and respectable, and maybe fae wouldn’t have minded being married to him, had fae not have met someone else.

No; the only person fae would want to be with was who knows where, likely sailing on the large ship she had called home. Cadence, a siren of a pirate that had somehow managed to sweep fae off faer feet in the handful of weeks Rain was with her. 

Now, as a veil is draped over faer head, the only thing fae can hope for is that the letter made it in time.

Cadence stands tall at the bow of the ship, looking out over the figurehead. Behind her, some of the crew move about, adjusting sails and preparing weapons. The sharp sound of ceramic grating across metal passes through the salty air surrounding the boat.

“How close are we!” Cadence shouts eagerly, looking up towards the person in the crow’s nest. 

“I think I see the docks,” Poppy, the barrelman of the ship, yells back, leaning forwards to get a better view. 

Finally, Cadence would be able to make it back to the island she had landed on not too long ago. It was there she had met Rain, an heir to the throne of a powerful chain of islands in the Southern Ocean. 

Now that the island fae resided on was in view, Cadence was practically bursting with excitement. 

“Captain!” Honey called, emerging from below deck. Cadence spun to meet them. “Most of the canons are loaded and ready to go. Should we be expecting to use them today?”

Honey was practically covered in gunpowder, and as they wiped their hands off on their pants, a cloud of gray powder was sent flying into the air. They were the newest crew member on the ship and had made quick progress in getting themselves promoted from a cabin mate to the master gunnar. They were one of the three people on the ship familiar enough with the canons to actually handle them, which had made Cadence eager to set them up with their defenses.

“Maybe,” Cadence said after a moment. “Hopefully we won’t need to, but it won’t hurt to send them a little departing message,” she winks.

Honey smiles back before going back downstairs, probably to wash off some of the gunpowder.

“Get ready to dock!” the captain hears from above, the call leading her to the anchor. With the ship being guided towards port, and help hauling the anchor overboard, the crew made their way off of the ship and onto the dock. 

“Remember the plan, everyone?” the captain asks as the last people move towards them. “Zero, Vee, Squishy; the three of you will take care of the vault…”

The crew of eleven split into groups, trying to make the most of the time they had. Cadence had known she was pushing it, but as the sun rose overhead and the twelfth bell chimed, she realized just how close she was to the deadline.

Now, as she stands in front of the grandiose doors, Cadence takes a deep breath before pressing an ear to the expensive mahogany.

“If anyone has any objections, speak now or you may forever hold your peace.” 

With a letter clutched in one hand and a sword in the other, the captain bursts through the door.

The entire room flinches as the doors are kicked open, several people from the audience standing up. Rain’s hand flies towards faer waist, only to be met with more skirt. A flicker of annoyance passes across faer face before fae finally begins to understand what is happening.

For the first time during this ceremony, excitement begins to bubble in faer chest. 

“How’s this for an objection?” a familiar voice shouts-- and of course that’s what she says; Cadence had always been one for theatrics. 

For a moment, the only thing that was moving was the dust floating between the colored sunlight pouring from the stained glass windows. Fae could hear the room breathing.

Rain is giddy.

After a moment, more pirates began to enter from a few of the side doors, finally stirring someone into action.

“Who are you, and what do you want!” Fae’s father calls out, his voice shaking almost imperceptibly. 

“To stop this fucking wedding,” one of the crewmates that fae faintly remembers being named Zero says. With those words and the echoing sound of a gunshot, chaos breaks in the wedding hall.

People rush out of their seats, some taking up weapons and others attempting to flee. The guards who had been standing at the back and sides of the altar had rushed to the front, trying to take over the small band of pirates towards the front. Rain watches in delight; good, the wedding won’t proceed.

“We need to get out of here!” fae feels what would have been faer husband take faer hand.

“No, I'm not going with you,” fae says, stepping away from him. His eyebrows furrow and his mouth opens to say something before an arm snakes around Rain’s waist and a hand covers faer mouth.

“I’ll be taking this,” Rain hears Cadence grin, and suddenly Rain is being picked up bridal style and moved away from the altar. 

A voice whispers into faer ear: “I got your letter,” Cadence said. “Ready to leave?”

“I’ve waited for this,” fae says, uncaring of how late she was. “I’ve waited for this for far too long. Of course I’m ready to leave.”

With a loud whistle, the pirates take one their swings before darting, leaving the wedding hall and the people inside behind them. Guards shout from over their shoulders, but with a ridiculous amount of money now in their possession and a rescued crew member, none of them paid any mind to what was happening behind them.

Finally, as the crew makes it to the ship, Rain is set down on the wooden pier. The ship was just as fae remembered it, except with an additional tentacle attached to the figurehead. Fae grinned, turning to face Cadence.

The light of the sun behind her cast her face a glow, illuminating the wisps of her hair that surrounded her head. Letters only did so much, and fae found faerself missing her and the sea every day fae was stuck on the island. 

“Come on, fuckers!” the two hear from the boat, causing Rain to whip faer head in the person’s direction. “Stop looking at each other and get up here!” Rain and Cadence look towards each other, Cadence shooting a grin in faer way, before pulling Rain by the wrist onto the boat.

“Honey!” Cadence calls from next to fae, and an unfamiliar face emerges from below deck.

“Is it time?” The person smiles sadistically, clearly excited for whatever is about to come. Cadence nods and Honey slips back below deck.

“That was Honey,” Cadence says before walking towards the stern of the ship to the wheel. “They’re the master gunnar.” Rain’s eyes go wide and fae runs towards the side of the ship closest to the dock, just in time to hear the firing of a cannon.

“Just in time, too!” she calls as the cannonballs hit the ships. The guards that had been following finally skid to a stop, lost on what to do. The cannons were aimed to hit the boats in just the right way to make them impossible to use without repairs, and the guards seemed to have realized this. Their boat starts to move away from the docks, at long last leaving behind the dread that pooled in Rain's stomach.

Fae grins as a cannon below starts to sizzle again and, with their departure, another cannon is fired, hitting the last of the ships.

“So,” Cadence starts when the boat has finally settled on the water, a sarcastic and amused tone on her lips, “a staged kidnapping, huh?”

“Big talk coming from someone who was late,” Rain retorts, walking up towards where Cadence was standing at the wheel.

“I was fashionably late,” she argues, facing Rain and opening her arms.

The two fall into an embrace, laughing slightly, pressing together as they rock with the ship.

As the boat sails away from now heirless islands, a new pirate introduces faerself to the others and falls asleep, content, next to the person who rescued faer.

[plutoswrath]

i’m jealous of your big heart when it comes to animals lmao. i’m arachnophobic and it can be so annoying to have sometimes. i haven’t been able to tie it back to astrology, as much as i would like to. i asked because i was wondering if there was a clear indicator based off certain placements like how 6th house rules animals, 6th is ruled by mercury so i jumbled them even though i probs shouldn’t have lol. and with venus it ties to personal taste so i wondered if it could indicate a liking towards a certain animal. i have sag and sag venus in 6th and embarrassingly enough, i was obsessed with horses. like i came out of the womb adoring them. as soon as i learned to talk i was a walking horse encyclopedia. my obsession died down. i’m not a horse girl, i swear on my life.

i agree with you about the cancer loving animals. animals are babies and momma cancer loves to nurture the babies. i feel like cancers are the most likely to hate the “are you a dog or cat person” question. they’d get offended because how dare someone assume their heart isn’t big enough for both. more than both, really. throw a turtle in there. a rabbit even. cancer asc peeps usually have a shit ton of animals. it’s probably the sag/abundance in the 6th. or they either own a horse or Great Dane. but this is off topic because i forgot i had a follow up question.

if you could tie an animal or a couple animals to each sign that you think best represents that sign? or just seems like one they’d like? some are so easy and others just leave me blank. my arachnophobia thinks scorpio’s deserve better than scorpions but my terror blinds me. but i was looking up the symbolism behind animals and tying them to signs. so far, i’ve concluded that while horses should go with sag, their highly intuitive and empathetic animals. their behavior is like a mirror so if you’re nervous, they are too. so pisces or cancer actually seems to be a better fit. and to stay on topic of cancer with animals, i always tie wolves and dogs in general to cancer. the wolves are tied to the moon and familial dynamics and also i think they’re a great symbolic opposition to leo and how leos tend to resemble cats. sun and moon, dog and cat, night and day, that sort of thing. i realized i’ve rambled but i’m looking forward to your opinion because i’m so lost on what other signs would have. it’s been a year old question in my brain and it’s time for help from the master.

I'm sorry to hear that, I'm had a friend once who was arachnophobic and having phobias like these is really no fun, I can't imagine what it feels like really having them. And omg don't feel bad for liking horses when you were a child, literally so many children, especially young girls, like horses simply because people decided horses where a 'teenage girls only' thing somehow?? (and I will have to dig deeper into this at a point because here where I come from the horse girl thing is soooo painfully real and I want to understand the phenomena). And if I'm not mistake, arachnophobia (like most types of phobias), stem from some kind of trauma right? I absolutely don't try to get to personal but if we look at phobias in that way, maybe it's good to also include looking at planets/asteroids that point to trauma or aspects that can represent/indicate traumatic experiences in that sense! And I agree wholeheartedly to the 'dog or cat' question, I don't get offended by it but I hate this question in general because every animal deserves my love and empathy adfghj and yes, mother feelings definitely play into this haha! I think cancers enjoy (to an extent) having that occasional (or constant) outlet for their nurturing side and the bound you have to animals is also very intuitive and requires a lot of patience and getting educated as well as being observant and reading between the lines somehow and all that dedication paired with emotional knowledge just really speaks to water signs in general (and animals don't judge openly with words, just your energy asdfgh) Uhh, I like the question regarding the animals and I agree with your takes on it so far!! I think one animal can not represent all the core traits of a sign alltogether, but I'll try my best here! and psdfghj no need to call me master because I'm literally so far from anything close to that but thank you so much still, I feel honored really!!

The Signs as Animals:

Disclaimer: some of them are inspired by my ‘the Wild Unknown Animal Spirit’ tarot deck.

Aries: House cat. I know, I always thought cats actually link pretty well to Aries! Cats are just the perfect mixture of intelligen and curious, reserved, stubborn, aggressive, senstive as well as playful/impulsive! They are quick to learn and not afraid to face off against any other, bigger animals, but also can live pretty well together with other pets in the house, as long as they don‘t bother them too much. Especially when it comes to intimacy/pda they are very picky, but forceful when demand it. Seem flexible and unbothered at first but actually have the firmest boundaries when it comes to their personal freedom. Will let you believe they need you but give it a few weeks and the neighbor has better treats than you and gone they are asdfgh, but it's actually a harmful stereotype to believe that cats don't need you because they can become extremely fond of you and grow very attached.

Taurus: Elk. Based on the interpretation of my tarot deck. The elk represents earth energy, it is grounded, is established in itself and knows their core values and acts according to them. They show consistency, coherence and care. Dedicated to who they love and what they care for. Can become narrow minded due to knowing what's best, based on their perception of what's right and necessary, which can effect their ego negatively. Very Taurus for me. Gemini: Dragonfly. I refer to the interpretation of the Dragonfly based on my tarot deck. The dragonfly represents the mind: everchanging, quick, fascinating, a reflection of the world inside us and aroudn us. As the dragonfly is very quick (refering to Mercury's fast and nervous energy) the dragonfly also calles for paying attention to what quality our mind has and to become mindful, because on first glance things always appear different tahn on first glance (Mercury floats between detail-oriented and paying attenetion and being too fast, impatient). The dragonfly is joy and magic, as well as impatience, restlessness and being unable to concentrate. Cancer: Killer Whales (but also whales in general)! I thought especially about Killer Whales, because I once watched a documentary on them and they went in depth about how they have different cultures and different languages even (if I remember correctly) in their familys. Cancer often gets associated with the home life, but I think I wanted to look at it from another perspective, as in how does family 'become' family and how do those family roots develope, what do they consist of, how do we define family and what holds it together (and especially: how do our roots shape our own emotional patterns and nature in life?). I think the mystery of the Killer Whales but the whole complexity that lies behind the fascination of how these animals function and also how deeply affected Killer Whales are by their emotions/when they are absent from their kin, just opens up another big question of family dynamics and how we relate to one another and how principles we always condoned to human beings now apply to animals too. I think the whole part about the Killer Whales relation to emotions and their family's cultures just really made me link them to Cancer. Leo: Otter. I refer o the meaning of teh Otter based on my tarot deck. The Otter resembles the energy of the inner child: it's pure bliss, playfulness, they love to live and live for life itself, and out of this eagerness to enjoy life comes also a contentment and completeness towards life itself. To reconnect with otter energy, it is advised to step into settings of celebration, or total creative self expression and from the outside looking 'unproductive/selfish' indulgence. But actually, this energy is what makes life so enjoyable in the first place.

Virgo: Octopus. Highly intelligent beings that can quickly adapt and take the initiative. Self sufficient by nature, they aren't aggressive unless provoked, they like to mind their business unless they get curious (then they cling heavy onto you because you are their new object of interest). They can change color if it's needed (Virgo is a mutuable sign and can blend in perfectly in social occasions/new situations) and tbh the inking part about octopus just reminds me of the fact that most Virgos have a really quirky side to them you only get to see when you annoy them long enough (aka you are a long term friend). Libra: Gazelle. I refer to the meaning of ten Gazelle based on my tarot deck. The gazelle combines the creation of beauty and harmony, creativity and hyper awareness of it's surroundings, very affected of the imbalances in it's environment, but in it's try to remain this beauty around them, they tend to forget their achievments and stay in the present with their thoughts, as they constantly wheigh out the 'what if's'. A very perceptive animal in the tarot deck and this attribute is equally it's strong suit and downfall. Scorpio: Tiger. I refer here to the meaning of the Tiger based on my tarot deck. Waits in stillness and darkness to reconnect to their own inner power. Healing in isolation with the help of the lunar forces, waiting to regenerate. The Tiger energy shows itself in being passionate, sensual and stepping into ones own power, recognizing ones strength. For me, this is very Scorpio (Moon) for me. When the Tiger in unbalanced, it becomes overstimulated and acts according to this hyperawareness. Sagittarius: Zebra. I refer here to the meaning of the Zebra based on my tarot deck. The Zebra stands for an open mind, visionary and eccentric, new thinking, as well as being young at heart and expansion. I personally connect horses with passion and drive, because they are truly powerhouses. Based on the meaning of my tarit deck, the Zebra also is sociable, at least people find themselves drawn to the energy of the Zebra because it triggers their desire to learn, and I think this is something very beautiful Sagittarius symbolizes when they come into your life: be prepared to broaden your horizon for more. 

Capricorn: Camel. I refer to the meaning of the Camel based on my tarot deck. Camels here represent absolute dependence on self and being able to find the answer to problems in oneself. This self reliance and capability reminds me of capricorns, the camel is finding the 'cool' aka water inside of them and Capricorn is traditionally also symbolized as the sea-goat (which I seriously think should really be considered when anaylzing this archetype) and Capricorns have (imo at least) a rich emotional life, but it's just deeply locked within. The Camel represents showing responsibility for their own actions, regulating the self and circumstances around them as best as they can, which makes sense for Capricorns, ruled by Saturn they usually are confronted with task in their life. If the Camel energy is out of balance, it shows a lack of vitality, with Capricorn representing the senior age in life makes sense, especially since Capricorns can tend to feel very old (exhausted)- Aquarius: Platypus- and no, I’m not using the Platypus because ‚wow all Aquarius are so weird like straight up aliens 🤪🤪’ I think the platypus is a good representation because it makes us question what we’ve known so far about animals and Aquarius too is a sign that introduces us to new ideas and perspectives all in the favor of progress and considering alternatives, leaving the status quo. Pisces:  Raven/Crow. I name these two in particular because as far as I know it’s only the ravens that have been documented intimating people’s voices and tones, but crows are definitely more known for their bright mind. For me people often forget Pisces mutable nature and how quick witted they actually are. These birds are hyper intelligent and their observational skills are truly amazing. In my Wild Uknown Animal Spirit deck, the crow is an animal carrying 3rd eye energy. Here, the view is clear, the crow is moving through different dimensions and sees what other’s cant. For and the emotional depth (void) Pisces is conencted to it just seem to make sense. 

[pridewhatpride]

omg pls talk more about GX rival shipping once the transfer students come

Dear anon, I love you for asking this of me, but I have to wonder if you want everyone who follows me to start hating me.

Long post coming up? You know it. I apologise to all Johan fans, he's great and I loved him and his deck as a child. Now I'm just salty because he's too perfect. Warning because this is a mess of unrequited feelings and it's an all around bad time if you ship anything in gx. I did mention I do not practice self care in a previous post of mine. Enjoy your pain c:

So here are my bad takes of the day, under the very handy cut!

You see, gx rivalshipping becomes a lot more complicated and angsty when the transfer students arrive. The dynamic changes. If there is a dynamic at all. I mean, imagine yourself in Manjoume's shoes. You've lowkey had a crush on this dumb guy who kind of ruined your life (but actually improved it and freed you from the restraints your family imposed on you), just to watch a handsome scandinavian dude who is a lot more muscular than you are and maybe a little bit nicer, maybe just waltz in and completely captivate said dumb guy's attention. Just when you had managed to admit your own feelings to yourself.

Johan comes in and steals the room, everybody loves him, he's good looking, charismatic, kind and has a magical exclusive shiny sparkling deck at his disposal that he uses as if it was the most natural thing in the world, like he hadn't received approval Pegasus himself on top of the duel spirits. And Judai clearly can't get enough of it, because he's always seeking him out, ever since the duel they had in front of everyone, and Manjoume finds that he's really annoyed by it. He wishes he'd been chosen for the demonstration, deluding himself into believing that if he'd won, Judai would have never started caring so damn much about Johan. But a part of him knows he would have probably lost and that even if he hadn't, Judai would have not cared about the outcome at all. It's nice to think that winning a card game can solve all your problems, but, while Manjoume has only ever experienced how much losing one can mess with your life goals, he isn't stupid enough to think that winning would grant him happiness. Not anymore. No well-thought-out strategy can rid him of his bad temper and his worthless pride.

The thing is, he can't really hate Johan, because nobody can hate Johan. He's just the perfect picture of everything Manjoume isn't and, going by everyone's reaction, the fact that 'everyone is unique in their own way and worthy of love' is absolute bullshit. There clearly is an objective better one of the two and Manjoume is very aware that he isn't it. And he'd probably begrundgingly be cool with it, after all he'd accepted that Jaden was braver than him, that Asuka was emotionally stronger and more resolute, that Daichi was smarter, not to mention how much plain better than him his fomer upperclassmen were. Forget about pros like Edo, whom Judai had stood on equal grounds with. But Judai is clearly playing favourites, too, hell, he hardly even acknowledges Manjoume.

He finds himself forcibly removed from his already shaky position as rival, because now Johan is there to take it up, on top of the titles of 'best friend' and 'emotional support and crutch' and 'maybe something else I'd really rather not know'.

Manjoume just generally hates it all. He might have changed and improved himself, but there is no saving him from the fact that some people were just better. That doesn't stop him from trying. But again he finds himself pitted against Judai, the irony of his fate never giving him a moment to rest. Manipulated and turned into the enemy of those he cares about, again.

A part of him despises how good it feels to learn that Johan has gone missing, but Judai is screaming like his arms have been torn off and while he hates that it's all for Johan, he hates that Judai is in pain even more. Judai had saved him before and it's only right for him to return the favour. So he insists on helping him on his stupidly risky plan to save Johan. And it's all to get the old Judai back.

...The rest, from Manjoume's perspective is a mess. His feelings of anger stem from the hatred he harbours towards himself and the bond between Judai and Johan. He'd been trying to help, he had, he sincerely had, but everything just swirled together and the next thing he knows is that he is shouting at Judai because it suddenly made sense to guilt trip him over the fact that he'd abandoned his friends, he'd abandoned him as soon as someone better had come into the picture. And it was Judai's fault for letting them- him believe that he cared when he didn't, when he couldn't have cared less, because clearly he had one priority only and that was Johan. They had come to help and it still wasn't being appreciated.

Disappearing is a relief, for a moment, but then he finds himself in another hellish place and he can't help but think that it's retribution for being so upset over something that has nothing to do with him. That's right. It's his own fault for making Judai, his only real friend (aside from Fubuki, sorry for breaking the immersion, but I love Fubuki), carry the burden of the stupid hopes that came with his feelings. Judai has no fault. Johan has no fault. It's his own for desiring something that would always be out of reach.

As he is tortured by his own thoughts and regrets in the other dimension, Manjoume silently wishes his words meant nothing to Judai, that he'd be spared the pain of betrayal. He wishes Judai can achieve his goal.

When Shou appears to him, he knows there is no time to waste. If he is alive, the others are, too. Judai would want to know that they are safe. So he asks Shou to carry his message, along with his good luck wish. He hopes it's enough to make up for his mistakes.

Next thing he knows, they are back at DA, Judai is nowhere to be seen. Manjoume mourns the loss of his first and only friend and curses himself for tarnishing that memory. (Judai's return and season 4 would be too much to cover, this was only Manjoume's pov and I might as well just rewrite the entire show at this point.)

So what about Judai?

I personally want to believe that he genuinely does like Manjoume at some point. But as much as it pains me to admit it, season 3 just wrote Manjoume off from the list of main characters and relegated him to 'he's your funny comic relief, nobody really gives a shit about what he thinks or feels, so why should you, the spectator who has grown to love him, care at all? Also here's his sticker that confirms that Judai going after Johan makes him really angry for some reason, make of that what you will c:' (fuck the writing staff, I'm not even sorry).

Judai is so clearly smitten with Johan. It seems to me that his refusal to accept Manjoume's help that one time on the cliff shows that Judai doesn't really understand the way Jun operates. He probably labeled him as just someone else who counted on him to be saved. And sure, Manjoume is saved by Judai in multiple occasions, but he doesn't ever really... ask for it? Or more importantly expect it. He doesn't get himself into situations he can't handle because Judai can save him anyways, the trouble just kind of happens at him and more often than not he's only involved by accident, because he happens to be close to Judai.

The problem still stands, as season 3 starts, Judai is very much burdened by everyone's expectations and Johan is a breath of fresh air and the only one Judai actually considers a friend and an equal. It's heartbreaking that he felt that alone.

They get their gay 'have we met somewhere before moment', they duel gaily, they homoerotically tell eachother how admirable the other is, they shamelessly flirt and whoohoo Judai has an unofficial boyfriend and who can blame him for concentrating on him along with wanting to escape the pressure his former gang unknowingly laid on him.

But yeah, Judai in season 3 has a one track mind and it's hard not to see it as romantic. Does he know it is? Maybe? I honestly don't know. I feel like Johan is the one of the two who is aware of the implications of their interactions. Which also kind of brings me to say... does Johan think that all of Judai's friends are horrible people? Because he never once comments on how Judai distances himself from them once he arrives. He probably thinks they were never good friends in the first place.

Judai probably excuses his attentions towards Johan with the fact that they are alike because they can see spirits, but then he rememebers that so can Manjoume and maybe he feels guilty for a second, but Johan cracks a joke and Judai laughs and thinks to himself that Manjoume is probably happy to have the peace and quiet he so often claimed to want.

Like... I think a part of him would get that tightness in his chest because it's like he's betrayed someone, but he knows he hasn't, because there isn't any actual mutual agreement he's going against. So he lets himself fall deeper into the comfort of Johan's presence. Johan is, to Judai, the ideal person. He is exactly who Judai wants to become. Judai admires him very deeply and strives to be more like him, but he falls gradually into despair as he learns, once Johan is gone, that no, he can't be like him, because Johan is so much better than him, and if he doesn't get him back soon he might even forget what he was like in the first place. Johan can't be erased, can't be forgotten. And Judai feels like he's vanishing already, so he throws himself into a wild interdimensional manhunt to save his hopes for the future.

Turns out that wanting to do good doens't always result in a good outcome. That's what Judai learns when Manjoume lashes out at him just seconds before disappearing. Along with the others, too. Judai doesn't even have the brain power to compute that some people are still there, that he can still save someone, because he realised then that he had focused so much on Johan that he'd completely overlooked the fact that while his friends relied on him a little too much, they hadn't meant any harm. And if he'd just told them, maybe they would have been fine, they could've cooperated- but Manjoume had told him that he was a traitor, that he'd doomed them with his irrational behaviour.

Manjoume's last words to him had been spoken with hatred and Judai realised only then that he had misread him entirely. He lets despair and self hatred take over as he realises that if he had managed to hurt the ones he cared about so easily, discarding them for the new good thing, he could just keep doing that. And it would stop hurting, eventually.

I like to think that Manjoume really does have an impact on the awakening of the Supreme King. Yeah, I know he only turns once Johan's death is mentioned, I know. I just suffer from abandonment issues and can't stand that Manjoume dying in front of him is more impactful to Judai than a guy who literally can't be trusted saying "Joke's on you, the one you're looking for is in another castle already dead."

So yeah. That's the angsty overview.

TL;DR Johan is an Adonis, Judai is smitten and Manjoume is very very heartbroken. But actually so is Judai. Because while being with Johan feels right, there's someone whose absence feels wrong, but he doesn't allow himself to dwell on it and everything goes to shit. All around a bad time for everyone and they'll have a lot of talking to do once they properly reconcile after graduation.

[tinyboxxtink]

"Clueless" *Part 13*

Okay so this is 10 pages in my google doc right, and I swear I don't-- I don't know if I have more than one more chapter left in me from here guys! I might divide this one--- Okay. Here's what we're gonna do. This is gonna be slightly short, but then I'm IMMEDIATELY putting up another chapter, also slightly short. But it all leads to the finale, that will have to go up tomorrow. Cool? Cool.

Also- Warning SOME smutty smut? Awkward smut. LuLz.

(let's pretend/assume the girl in the gif is the reader yeah?)

Tag List

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@wanniiieeee

@milkshqke

@gibbs274

@lolliepopsicle

@aprildecker-blog

@word-scribbless

@objection-argumentative

@stars-in-the-skies-world

Part 12

Part 14

-------

You both quickly undressed each other, kissing each other all over one another’s bodies. You hadn’t had a lot of sex, and you were guessing Josh hadn’t either guessing on his response to your question about this. But you suppose you were both going to do your best.

“I um, am I hurting you?” Josh asked while he nibbled down the sides of your neck.

“What? No I’m fine babe, keep going,” You muttered, trying to stay in it.

“Look at this sloppy cabron,” You saw an image of Rafael standing in the middle of your bedroom. “He has no clue what he’s doing. You know you’d much rather have me nibbling on you, carino,”

“Shut up,” you growled.

“What?” Josh looked at you confused.

“What? Nothing baby, I’m sorry,”

Josh shrugged and continued, taking one finger and jamming it in your opening.

“Ow!!!” You screamed. It was so jarring and clinical, like a tampon being shoved up there too fast.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry babe, I thought-- I thought girls liked that,” It was dark but you could hear the blush in his voice.

“Baby you…” You half smiled, taking his hand and guiding it slowly around your opening. “You have to go slow, soft,”

“Oh. Right, yeah no of course,” He nervously chuckled, mimicking your movements. He continued to slowly circle your opening, slowly inching inside you. You closed your eyes and moaned softly, enjoying the sensation.

“Look at those stubs,” You heard Rafael’s voice again. “My long loving fingers wouldn’t be so rough with you,”

“Go away,” You muttered, trying to focus on Josh’s fingers inside you.

“What?” Josh stopped mid-circle inside you.

“I-I said, Go...faster,” You lied.

“Oh, Ok….can I, can I go inside you?” Josh asked softly.

“Yes, baby you don’t have to ask,” You were sort of getting annoyed now; You hadn’t had sex with tons of people, but you knew how to be sexier than this.

“See he’s a child! Asking, pleading, fumbling in the dark. You need a man who knows how to take care of you, amante,” Rafael’s voice sounded like it was right in your ear.

“Josh, let’s just agree right now to everything. Anything you wanna do to me, do it. If I don’t like it, trust me I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay!” He seemed more excited, now plunging into you deeply and pumping fast. Now this was more like it.

“Oh yes, yes right there…” You moaned, which encouraged him more.

“Yeah baby, you like that?” Josh asked in a sultry voice.

“Mmmm yes,” You moaned, glancing at the foot of your bed. Rafael’s image was standing there, smirking. You couldn’t help it, you tried to fight it. You shut your eyes tight and focused on the pleasure. It was getting more and more intense.

“Yes, oh baby deeper,” You moaned. Josh obliged, plunging harder and faster inside you.

“Yes….oh god Rafa right there….”

Your eyes shot open, a hand went over your mouth. Luckily, Josh was so into his own pleasure and you had whispered low enough that he had no idea what had just happened. But you did. You laid there, knowing full well now that you wished this was Rafael. You shut your eyes and just let yourself imagine it was him, you couldn’t fight it anymore.

Soon you were moaning and screaming, mentally concentrating on not saying ANY words, just moans trying to convince Josh you were enjoying him inside you. You were still getting there when you felt Josh’s legs vibrating.

“Baby…” He moaned. “I’m gonna… should I…?”

“Yes please don’t get me pregnant,” You said, more rude than you intended. He was so lost in his orgasm he didn’t notice, but immediately pulled out and ejaculated all over your sheets.

“Wow, that was amazing…” He fell back against you, sighing in relief. You however, were still waiting on your own orgasm.

“I um, I have to-- wash off,” You lied, climbing out of the bed. He nodded, still out of breath. You went inside the bathroom and locked the door. You sat against the door and spread your legs, inserting your own fingers and pumping them in and out of you.

“Yes, baby. That’s it…” Now you heard Rafael’s voice again. “I’m right here, I’m inside you…”

You moved your fingers faster, imaging Rafael’s lips all over you. “You smell so good carino, god I love it when you’re wet for me,” You bit your lip in pleasure, now bucking against your own fingers. “I love you so much, Y/N,” You could hear him purr. “Now, go for me…”

You felt the waves of an orgasm crash against you, your fingers now slowing their pace, you slumped against the door in relief. The pleasure was immense from just imagining Rafael being there, you couldn’t imagine what it would be like to actually have him. But.. you would never know.

The pleasure from your “session” was suddenly overridden by a surge of grief. Grief of what had just transpired not even an hour ago. You finally had him, you had him in your mouth. His hands all over you, it was like you could still feel them. That’s why it was so easy to replicate the feeling while pleasuring yourself. You knew what they felt like now. But...that’s all it was. You knew that was the most you’d ever get from him, a kiss goodbye. You were not about to just forget your principles and your feelings about being hidden away like a dirty secret. No matter how pleasurable his lips were.

Why couldn’t he just... man up? Why was he so afraid? Were you that awful? Was he that ashamed of you? Why didn’t he love you enough?

He had said the words, he said them out loud! You repeated them over and over, but the more you did the more you remembered the tone. As if he was saying:

“You’re lucky I’m saying this at all, how can you be walking away from ME? The great Rafael Barba.”

Josh would never talk to you like that, he was so soft and so kind. So wonderful. Why couldn’t...Why couldn’t Rafael be that…?

All of a sudden, you realized you were crying. You were crying softly, but quickly grew louder the more you thought about Rafael. He would be so smug if he knew that he got in your head, just like he said he had. He would be giddy with victory knowing that he was on your mind the entire time. You grabbed a towel off your towel rack and sobbed into it, trying to tell yourself to calm down. Trying to remind yourself that there was a beautiful, amazing man right in the next room. Not a snarky asshole. Josh made you feel safe and loved, not like some dark curse. You composed yourself and went back into the room, where unfortunately for you Josh had turned on the lights.

“Oh my god...baby are you okay?” He jumped out of the bed and ran over to you, immediately taking you in his arms and cuddling you. See, how could you want Rafael over this?

“Yeah, I’m just-- I’m tired,” You lied, nodding your head. “Can we just...take a nap?”

“Of course, whatever you want,” He took you back to bed and spooned you, stroking your hair.

“You were wonderful, Y/N. I’ve never had it so good,” He whispered. You felt half confused, half guilty. You hadn’t really done anything, except imagine another guy.

….I’m glad, Josh,” You smiled, snuggling into him, hoping he would just fall asleep and not push it any further. He did.

-----

Later, you and Josh walked into the living room to get something to eat. You were greeted with Ariel sitting on the couch flipping through channels.

“OOOOOOoooohhh!!!!” She teased. “And what were YOU two doing?”

“....Studying,” Josh smirked.

“Uh huh, studying each other’s bodies,” Ariel smirked back.

“Ariel!” You walked over and smacked her playfully.

“Y/N we’re all adults here, if you can’t discuss sex freely you’re going to have a very hard time in adulthood,”

“Hey Ariel, give her a break,” Josh came up behind you and kissed your head. “I totally get it,”

“Awww, it’s like watching two care bears copulate,” Ariel said mockingly.

“Ha Ha,” You rolled your eyes as you walked to the kitchen.

---

--Meanwhile in the living room---

“So you two had fun?” Ariel wiggled her eyebrows.

“...Yeah,” Josh nodded slightly.

“What’s that look?”

“I don’t know, she said some weird stuff,” He shrugged.

“Like what?” She asked quizzically.

“I...I don’t know, lots of mumbles,”

“Maybe you were so good she started talking in tongues,” She laughed.

“Oh yeah, totally that’s it,”

“Hey do you wanna continue our conversation tomorrow? I really want to try this bistro that Y/N won’t go with me to,” Ariel asked, glancing at the kitchen where you were.

“Why?”

“I don’t know, something about how they cook their food. Animal cruelty, or MSG or some crap like that, I tune out when she rambles,” She rolled her eyes.

“You’re so mean!” He lightly poked her. “Yeah, sounds good,” He paused, looking in the kitchen. “....Do you think it’s weird, us hanging out without her?”

“What? No, it’s totally innocent,” She waved her hands dismissively.

“....Then why haven't we told her?” Josh asked her seriously. They both looked at each other for a long moment.

“Hey Ariel what happened to the pizza that was in here?” You suddenly came walking into the living room, interrupting their conversation.

“Oh I...I think I ate it while I was high the other day,” She blushed.

“ARIEL,” You looked at her horrified. “You can’t smoke weed in your mom’s house!!”

“Relax, Debbie Do Good, I smoke on the deck,” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh good so the neighbor’s can call the cops,” You crossed your arms.

“Josh maybe you should take her back in there and ‘chill her out’ some more,” She made crude actions with her hands.

“Actually I should be getting back, you know to ACTUALLY study,” He started to get up and walk out. “Although I don’t know how much it will help, not like Barba is ever going to give me that internship,”

“Do you want me to go rough him up for you Joshie?” Ariel laughed in a patronizing tone.

“No, thank you Ari,” He teased back. “I’ll call you later baby,” He kissed your cheek and walked out the door.

[neeterloveschenford]

Thoughts on RNM 3x11

Hello my RNM fam! So we finally had an episode that didn’t bring me massive amounts of joy. There were definitely things that I liked. And I think it would have been a fairly decent episode if it were in season 2. But all in all it just didn’t make me giddy like most episodes this season did. I think this one would have worked with a longer season. You need filler episodes when you have 22 episodes a season. But, alas, we got this last night. Like I said, there were things that I liked. So it wasn’t all bad. But I think it was a shining example of the things that they still need to fix. So let’s dive in and discuss the good and the bad.

First off, I still love Jones! He is such a good villain and Nathan has been so amazing this year. Max still drives me crazy, but I think that has more to do with the writing than the acting. I am really going to miss Jones when they take him down. But he’s the kind of villain that you just can’t let walk around. I love that he was seemingly trying to seduce Liz into his way of thinking. Knowing how much she loves Max, he was trying to use his charm and her obvious appreciation of Max’s body to his advantage. And I think he’s attracted to her spunk. I imagine she might just remind him of Nora. I’d really like to know how he actually felt about her. I get the feeling that he loved her as much as someone like him could love someone. I think he felt betrayed when she stole his DNA and killed all of his clones.

It was fascinating to hear him talk about how he killed so many of his people to save the planet. I wonder if they will get into maybe eugenics or something as his reasoning. Now that would be the way to tell a racist storyline. That’s the beauty of sci-fi. You can tell a story that is heavy and hard to do, but set it somewhere that is removed from our everyday life. I mean, we can just turn on the news to see horrible white supremescist terrorizing innocent people anytime anywhere. But through sci-fi we can see issues like this without the heavy-handedness that we’ve seen so far this season. This should have come up a lot sooner and then they could have explored a racism storyline that might have actually worked. I also like how Jones turned the savior trope on its head.

I really love that Dallas isn’t so thrown by being an alien that he walks away from his faith. I think it’s a lot more realistic than always assuming that religion would fall by the wayside if we were to find out we weren’t alone in the universe. I always think about an episode of Babylon 5 I saw years ago when I think about aliens and religion. In it, all of the alien races were having ceremonies that show the religious practices of their planet and the human leader spent the episode trying to decide how to showcase Earth’s spirituality. He ended up bringing everyone to a very long hallway where there was a huge line of people from all different religions lined up to be introduced to the aliens. It was a way to show how diverse the beliefs of human beings are. I thought it was brilliant. People would not just throw away their beliefs simply because we found out we weren’t alone. So it was nice to see how a man of faith could still rely on his faith in God to help him through this. (So now can we tell Arturo that Rosa was resurrected by an alien and not just by a “miracle.”)

Also, I really love Dallas. He can stay. And welcome to the land of bossy Isobel dude. She is ALWAYS this direct!

I know some people wanted Isobel to have the ability to control people, but I’m glad it’s Michael that has that power. I think he can bear the burden of it better than Isobel. Remember how we all thought it was great last episode that she had that moment where she said that’s what I get for invading people’s minds? I think she would not use it the way Michael will. He showed how careful he wants to be with this power when he asked the sheriff for permission to enter her mind and kick Jones out. He will be so careful to use his powers wisely and sparingly. I’m not saying Isobel would go all dictator on folks, but she can be very impulsive.

The Sanders/Michael scene was everything good and right in the world. I love how much Sanders loves Michael. And he is the best one-eyed Miagi that ever Miagied. I am so glad that Michael has him in his life. He is one of the only people (the other being Alex of course) that can get through to Michael. He knows that boy so well and always seems to know just what to say to get Michael to see the truth of who he is.

I am loving Rosa and Isobel’s friendship this season. It was pretty rough last season. But they are so supportive of each other. I love that we get to see women supporting women this season. I hope we have many more moments with them.

So now I’m going to get into the things I truly did not like. First of all, I still think Heath is a major bore. A pretty, pretty, pretty bore. I think he needs to go back to California. I don’t want him to die. That would hurt Dallas and I adore him. But Heath needs to go. Go back to Genoryx. I’m sure they’d take him back.

Wyatt. For the love of all things holy and righteous, can we be done with him now? Sad thing is, he and Rosa actually have chemistry. If this was the plan all along, then why make him so incredibly irredeemable in the first place? What a waste of time and story line.

I do not understand why they cannot plan out how to use the 10 episode characters. This would have been the perfect episode to have Alex and even Greg. An Air Force and a Navy veteran might have been a little useful in infiltrating the secret lair of a diabolical dictator. We now know that Alex saw combat in his three tours. And I can’t remember if Greg is a Navy SEAL in canon or fanon, but I’m pretty sure if it isn’t canon, he didn’t just swab the decks while he was in the Navy. He is a Manes after all. So why would we have an episode like this where they aren’t even utilized? I know Tanner’s schedule is tricky with Bold and the Beautiful, but they filmed so many other things out of order, why couldn’t they swing this one? Really poor planning.

And you’re going to tell me that Alex, Kyle, and Maria aren’t going to be in the mix to save Liz? I would totally understand Kyle and Maria being sidelined with Rosa when it comes to rescuing Liz, but this is just another example of how the writers seem to forget that these people are very important to each other. It’s absolute nonsense. I get that you wouldn’t see each other every day, but Rosa would be a little upset that her brother is in a coma. Alex would be a little ticked off that someone has, once again, kidnapped one of his best friends. It’s really annoying how they expect us to fill in the blanks.

Who likes Harry Potter so much and how can we make them stop with the references?

Why did we just drop the whole funeral vision story line? I mean, no one talks about it anymore. At all. What was the point?

I keep telling myself that some of the things that are wrong with the show are left over from Carina. I know that she at least had an outline for this season in play. We know she wrote the first episode. I know she made a big deal about all the changes that were made after she got booted, but how much could they change without causing problems. I am probably just projecting my hatred of her leadership on this season, but I am hopeful that this is the case and we can be even more streamlined next season. A girl can dream.

Lastly, where the hell was my morning after. I mean seriously people!

Ok, that’s all I’ve got this week. Here’s hoping we can have two hours of wonderfulness next week and end with an amazing experience. Also, can we finally get some Malex appreciation from the rest of the characters? I know I’m not asking for too much. Till next time my lovelies! Hope everyone has a great week!!

[omniswords]

Chronicles of a Parisian Dumbass 18

i'm sorry this is a few days late!! it's been real Headless Chicken time around here for a number of reasons, but, here you go!

this chapter is also known as, "LUKANETTE SHIPPERS COME GET Y'ALL JUICE: Part 1"

to: Marinette hey… um. hey. just. checking if you’re okay. those postcards came out beautiful.

from: Marinette shouldn’t i be asking you that?

to: Marinette i’ll live. i’m a Couffaine, “chaos” is practically my middle name. …so… how can i pay you? cash? one of those money apps?

from: Marinette just get better 😊 that’s all.

Getting better shouldn’t feel like such a tall order. But like with other affairs, Luka will just say it’s his fault and call it a night.

It only takes a few days for his knee to go from “bulging, throbbing mess” to “sort of tolerable,” and he doesn’t understand how the time is so annoying and yet so relieving. He has to call out of work because there’s no way they—or Juleka— will let him bike or even hobble around Paris with an injury like that. But it opens up his schedule for more band practice. And more chances to talk to Bubbles. Or, more accurately, convince Bubbles that he can still hold his own and shred the setlist to pieces.

And yeah, he tries his hand at perfecting Marinette’s song, but it barely comes out any better. Whatever melody is swirling in his head sounds wrong on paper, and even worse on guitar. Checking the posts of his drafts doesn’t help, either; the likes and comments and reposts have mostly come to a halt, no matter how many times he bumps the latest version to the top of his profile.

He thinks, for the most part, that it’s doomed to live in his head forever. And he hates it. Hates that it doesn’t sound right or good. Hates that he’ll never get to share what he really hears, what he really feels... with anyone.

The best he can manage is hopping on the metro, with his guitar and his amp and his busking license tied around the belt loop of his jeans, and finding just the right stone ledge or just the right bench at the bridge with the padlocks. Sometimes he doodles, strums out whatever comes to mind and hopes it resonates with someone. Some then he takes requests or plays fan favorites, the kind that earns him a smile or even an extra euro in his case.

He’s got to make the money somehow.

One time, he plays by the fountain at the Place des Vosges. For the parents who need something to tide them over while their children ask for balloons and skin their elbows and ride the carousel one too many times. He thinks about angles, and hearing colors, and pear tarts fresh from the oven, and business cards that look like flyers. He thinks about the color blue, too. Ocean blue. But he doesn’t play it. He’ll save it for a better occasion, when he’s not weighed down with cutting deals and combing through backstory that he’s not quite sure he’ll ever earn. When he’s not thinking about Marinette dropping a few coins in his case at the padlock bridge and almost looking guilty about it.

He shakes his head and gathers his paltry earnings for the day into the side pocket of his gig bag, stretches his leg to see if it’s worth putting weight on again. It doesn’t protest too much, thank God; at least he’ll be home before it gets too dark. But the sound of music stops him once he crosses the street. A radio. And it’s playing outside.

And it’s just over his head.

It takes him one moment to realize he’s stopped in front of Tom & Sabine’s, and another to look up. There is Marinette, watering some flowers in a box and resting her chin in her hand. Humming along to the music. when she meets his eyes, it sounds like her. Like exactly what he’s been looking for. Good, and right, and perfect.

And... sad.

The one thing Luka’s grateful for is that he wasn’t standing there long. Instead of fear or panic, he’s only caught up in mild surprise, and to his relief, so is Marinette. He readjusts his weight on his good leg, and he manages a wave with his free hand. “You know,” he says with a weak laugh, “we really gotta stop meeting like this.”

The smile Marinette gives him in return is just as sad as her humming, but harder to read. He doesn’t know if it’s telling her she agrees or disagrees, or if she doesn’t want him to go. Or if it’s something else entirely, something he’s not a part of. “Hey,” she says, leaning over the balcony to get a better look at him. Or maybe just at his leg.

He glances down at it, gives it a little shake, and shrugs in the face of the urge to wince. “It’ll be fine,” he says as nonchalantly as he can. “I’ll be back at work in a day or two. But, y’know... let me know if you’d rather I go busk somewhere else.”

Which, he’ll admit, is code for, let me know if you don’t want to see me anymore. He’s given her enough reasons for her to feel that way.

If Marinette’s somehow waded through to the real meaning of it, she doesn’t show it, and Luka doesn’t know if that’s a good thing. Instead, she leans over to pause her music, brushes her hair out of her eyes, and says, “Do you... wanna come upstairs?”

Well.

He wasn’t expecting that.

Luka can’t get any words out, so all he does is nod dumbly and limp toward the side door. On a better day, he might have been able to scale the bakery and hop over the balcony railing, if all his work on the Liberty is anything to go by. But maybe his guitar wouldn’t necessarily appreciate that. And neither would Mr. Dupain or Mrs. Cheng; he’d probably scare them half to death. Not to mention that maybe this is the sort of stunt reserved for Actually Cool People, and Luka is only ever Actually Cool in the recesses of his imagination or with a guitar in his hands.

Marinette meets him by the side door and lets him in with barely a sound. It doesn’t seem like she’s trying to sneak him in, the way she might have if they were in high school. If she might have even pulled off something like that in high school. But they slip into the apartment with Marinette’s whispered explanation that her father’s closing up shop and her mother’s getting ready for a dinner date. It reminds him, as they head to her room and she shows him how to hoist up onto the balcony, of all the dates his ma tried to go on. And how one day, she just stopped trying, and didn’t shed a tear over it.

Maybe, he thinks as he leaps up on the weight of one leg, he’s built for something like that. Or should be.

Marinette lets him take the deck chair so he can rest his leg, despite his weak insistence that he’s fine. She doesn’t go back to watering the flowers, or even leaning on the railing and giving the city that wistful look he thought was only reserved for Adrien Agreste. Instead, she sits cross-legged on the floor, and she watches him, never lingering on one part of him for too long. Like she’s expecting him to say something. Maybe it’s payback, in the end, for all the times she must have caught him.

“Hey,” he finally says to break through the quiet. “That song you were listening to... Can you play it again?”

She jolts to attention then, nods without a word, makes a grab for her phone. With a few taps, the song bleeds to life with a few piano notes, the rise of a few violins, the thrum of a cello. Luka thinks he’s heard this before, once. The words are all in English, so he doesn’t quite know what they’re saying. All he knows is the blue. It’s electric, it’s swelling in his chest, buzzing under his skin, closing his eyes. It sounds...

Like the ocean.

Like a world Marinette’s pulling him into. Her world. And he’s stepping into it. Just for a while. Or like, perhaps, just for that while, they’re meeting in the middle.

She must know what the song is about. She can wade through the colors and the sound, right to the words, as she sings to herself in accented English, as her voice dips low but not quite low enough, as her breath snags on the notes it can’t hold for very long. Maybe that’s why she seems so sad. Or maybe it’s something else.

“That song sounds like your eyes,” he says once the violins fade. It sounds like what I’ve been looking for.

Marinette looks at him like he’s lost his mind, and maybe he has. But there’s a softness to it. Like maybe no one’s ever said anything like that to her before. Like, secretly, she’d spent years wishing someone would. “What?”

“Oh, uh. It’s...” He can’t tell if it’s the music, or the evening sky, or Marinette that’s making it hard to snap back to himself. Maybe it’s all three. “It’s... that sound-color thing I told you about—”

“No, I—I figured.” Marinette fumbles as she turns down the volume. He hardly thought her the type, but she does it like it’s something she’s done for ages. Like she’s tapping into someone she used to be. “You... think about my eyes?”

Luka can feel his face burning, his stomach lurching. He’s overthinking, he knows it, but somehow it doesn’t feel wrong for him to say, “I’ve been trying to get them right for a long time.”

She gives him a confused look at first, but understanding cracks across her face once he unzips his gig bag, sets up the amp, and sets his guitar in his lap.

“Can you play it again?” he asks. It’s quiet, and unsure, but there’s a tinge of hope to it. “I want to get it right.”

Marinette’s eyes go wide, and her cheeks turn pink under the delicate string lights. It seems like she holds onto her breath for longer than she means to, but she nods, and she does that fumbling thing again as she reaches for her phone. Once those first piano notes trickle out, she looks to him expectantly. That’s all it takes for his fingers to find the strings. For his heart to find that ocean blue. He doesn’t quite copy the melody note for note; instead, he finds the little pockets where his music fits, and he makes it sound a little fuller. A little more like her.

Maybe it’s not perfect. But it’s good enough.

Somewhere along the way, Luka closed his eyes, and when he opens them again, he finds Marinette sitting closer—just across from him, in fact. She’s huddled up with her chin on her knees, all but marveling at him in silence. When she finally speaks, it’s after she’s paused the next song, and it’s only to breathe, “Wow.”

Luka’s not feeling particularly flirtatious; actually, the most he does is laugh sheepishly and rub the back of his neck. “I’m not so good with words,” he says. “But music gets me pretty close to what I want to say. So… maybe I was wrong about not having an angle. Maybe my thing is playing people.”

Marinette snaps out of it long enough to laugh, all breath, and say, “Where I’ve been, that sounds an awful lot like you’re a con man.”

“I’m not a con man, I mean... what people sound like. Their hearts, or... the parts of them that are most beautiful. That sound like that”— he gestures toward the speaker, and then up to the sky—”or remind us that... whatever we’re made of, it came from up there. Somewhere. That’s what I wanna think about, when I play…”

He catches himself and goes silent, but Marinette’s already giving him a meaningful look, teeth sinking into her lip. Somewhere along the line, her face went right to scarlet.

“Me,” she says. “That’s what you were playing in the park. Me.”

Luka doesn’t know how much of him has been discovered, but he keeps quiet all the same. He won’t give any more of himself away. It’s only as he’s about to apologize—for what, he’s not entirely sure—that Marinette cuts him off.

“Look, I… I need to tell you about something.”

He grips his guitar more tightly, because his phone is too far out of reach, and all the alarm bells go off.

[verdandasrsblog]

So this week I got Annoyed™ at Kara-Meir and Garlandia’s designs (Partially due to @enkoro-rs suggesting I do Kara-Meir, after which I fell down a rabbit hole). Like with the Laniakea overhaul I’m going to put my reasoning/inspo under the cut for anyone that’s interested

Honestly, where do I even start with Kara-Meir? I guess I’ll just go top-down, 

1) Hair - Based on the novel covers it seems like she was supposed to be blonde originally, and just have an absolute shit ton of hair. Since the flow of the in-game design’s braids didn’t make no goddamn sense, I found some ACTUAL braided bun hairstyles and combowombo’d them into one mega hairstyle.  The pins in the buns with the danglies are really just to be fancy, but I also wanted to incorporate the bits hanging off her belt in her in-game model’s concept art. 

pictured: whatever the fuck these are supposed to be

2) Skin/Face/Eyes - So originally I actually colour dropper her skin from the concept art and then realized she was maybe a bit tanner than the concept, but you know what? Fuck it. I tried to keep her face shape from the concept since the cover art of her is just kinda “Generic white lady” but honestly she got a bit pointier than that in the end. I’m also not sure what her canon eye colour is supposed to be; Zooming in on the ref just gave me brown, which is what I ended up using, but if that’s not correct and anyone has the novels let me know. 

3) Clothing - So I restrained her cape to something someone could maybe fight in, but my main concern was her armor - She’s supposed to be a knight but what’s up with the bikini boob breast plate? She’s portrayed as wearing both chain and full plate in the cover art and is clearly a melee fighter, so changing her to plate armor seemed obvious. Since she can wield Sunspear (t75) it makes sense to me that her Def would be somewhere in the 70s to match, which with the rework means necronium. 

So like, obviously Necronium is a particular aesthetic that didn’t seem quite right for her. Looking at her lore, she has a wolf theme in her backstory and since she's also supposed to have some smithing ability (she was raised by dwarves) I thought it'd make sense that she might make her own. She’s also been to Morytania in the books, meaning she could have access to Phasmatite (Her access to the Necrite is a bit more iffy but she is hanging out on Tuska after that event so she has at least some experience with the desert).  I had tried out the red glow initially but it looked like shite and didn’t really fit her anyway, so I think the gold is a better compromise both character-wise and aesthetically. 

4) Sunspear - So she canonically has a sunspear, and I ended up using the current in-game design for it since her concept art one just seemed... unstable 

I get that it’s reforged or whatever but it looks like it’s gonna shatter on impact with anything

Truthfully, though? You know what she should have? One of THESE bad boys:

AKA just a Grecian-style spear head. It’d also be more believable that she thinks it’s a dagger if it looks like this. I still think the in-game sunspear is a bit more ~dramatic~ but it should just be a spear tip quite frankly 

Okay, onto Garlandia: 

1) Hair/Face/Skin/Eyes - I’m grouping the hair in here since I honestly just left it as the in-game version (At least from what I can see from her chat head, I can’t remember if there’s some BS going on on her back or not).  Ancient Greek women did tend to braid their hair so that’s accurate-ish, I guess. For her skin though, she mentions in dialogue that “Her skin shed its colour”, but her model isn’t any paler than the other icyene in game. Accordingly, I made her significantly paler, and gave her a bit of frost bite damage on her extremities from the winter she had to endure after her wings were ripped off (I considered making it darker but there’s a point where they just need to be amputated since it won’t heal, so I went with something less intense to show that it’s healed since). For her eye colour, I zoomed in on her chat head but it wasn’t quite clear - 2/4 icyene in-game have blue eyes, but I went with gold to match the rest of her pallet. 

2) Clothes - This is a big one since I spent a lot of time staring at Greek art trying to figure out what a Greek-inspired character would wear when they never want to be cold ever again (It would make sense for her due to the trauma). Additionally, her skin is kinda fucked, and having it be uncovered would probably just lead to sunburn which is the last thing she needs. The shape of the middle woman’s chiton below inspired the hem of her dress, since I wanted to give her a very flowing, fashionable look:

She was supposed to have been a noble so like, fuckin’ Fashion, Baybee

I also turned her weird metal underpants into a girdle, since a waist band of some form or another isn’t uncommon in the images we have of ancient Greek attire: 

Garlandia, why did you have metal panties? 

Since she’s a bard (I THINK?) I also strapped on some extra storage for sheet music. Her jewelry was inspired by the following pieces, though TBH she could probably be decked out more, I just wanted to leave her hands mostly free for that good good harp playin’ 

3) Shoes - These get their own section because I did way too much research for it not to. Basically, most Greeks straight up didn’t wear shoes, never mind socks. Also, in her model, is it just me or do her shoes look uncomfortable as fuck??

Yikes girl are those cutting into your thighs?

Anyways, with her feet/toes being fucked up from frostbite, I wasn’t going to NOT give her shoes/socks, which meant I started looking at roman artifacts instead:

I found mention of romans wrapping their feet in fabric when it got cold, but the only “sock” I could find was from a roman fort in Britain:

So, like, needless to say after all that and also getting suckered into reading about the nuances of gladiatorial combat for like an hour I ended up going for something more modern:

So anyways they’re 0% accurate from what I could find but I like the vibe 

4) Himation - So remember what I was saying about how Garlandia would probably hate being cold? Check out these bad boys: 

Basically the ancient Grecian version of the Blanket Cape, and also used as outerwear in the winter! It seems like the winter ones would have been made from wool, I’d imagine she’d wear it most places except maybe the desert or Karamja since those are warm enough on their own. 

Anyways thanks for coming to my fucking runescape character redesign dissertation, next on the chopping block? Who knows. Maybe Zuzu (I heard her voice acting recently since I never play with sound and YIKES YIKES YIKES YIKES I HAD NO IDEA OH GOD)