#secret message collection event

[reunitedinterlude]

I’m so glad Phil finally wore a crop top- for you and for us to be able to enjoy more of your beautiful “then and now” gifsets!

hiii!! this is so sweet omggg, thank you times a million 😭😭💓💞💖💗💞💓 rlly been hoping for phil's crop top era since forever, so for it to finally happen !! and seeing the growth!! the confidence!! have no choice but to celebrate with a lil compilation gifset sdjfgs <33

[n0thingbutlov3]

need you now

in which an impulsive voicemail leads to some secrets being spilled.

pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader. warnings/tags: angst (sorry i’m incapable of being nice lol) hurt/comfort tho!! lil bit of fluff too because i AM capable of being nice, alcohol consumption as a coping mechanism (i’m literally just a girl…) spencer and reader are broken up :( but they’re still sooo in love and it’s soo obvious so it’s fine!! (also it kind of gets fixed at the end-ish. you’ll see *evil smirk*) reader cries a lot (real) spencer is a cutie (as always) spencer and reader sleep together…no like literally, not in a funny business way, some swearing, no use of y/n!!! wc: 3k a/n: hihihi!! so this is my first fan fiction i’ve wrote and completed ever (gulp) it’s also my first time publishing one (gulp) my writing could definitely be better and so could my grammar tbh but i HOPE if you choose to read you’ll enjoy…feedback is always appreciated (plsplspls) also like requests?? if anyone’s into that—id love to write more but inspo is difficult sometimes. if there’s any spelling mistakes im sorry, eye am very tired!! it’s 5am *eye twitching* okay i’m going to sleep, gootbye IF U SAW ME EDITING THIS 5 TIMES NO U DIDNT (i’m bad at tumblr ok..)

“Hi. This is Doctor Spencer Reid. I’m not available right now, but leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can…”

His tinny voice cut off to make way for the signature beep of the beginning of a voicemail recording.

You could hang up now—you should hang up now, save yourself some dignity and go drown your sorrows in alcohol like a normal person instead of calling your ex-boyfriend.

You should, but your mouth was opening before your finger could reach the hang-up button, and…and it was a losing battle from the moment you clicked on Spencer’s icon.

“Uh—hi, it’s…it’s me.” You huffed out a sad laugh.

“So, um, I…I tried calling, but you didn’t answer so…” The static buzz of silence hummed through your ear, just inches from where you held your phone with a shaky grip. “maybe you’re on a case or out with friends, or someone else—“ You let the implication hang in the air—the thought of Spencer potentially being in a relationship bringing a lump to your throat.

You swallowed it down.

“I just…I just had an unbelievably shitty day, Spence.” You sniffed, wiping the moisture that had escaped from your eye with your sweater sleeve. “I know you’ve never read A Series of Unfortunate Events but I think I’d give those kids a run for their money.” You tried to laugh but it came out as more of a sob.

You inhaled shakily, trying to collect yourself and remember why on earth you thought it would be a good idea to call Spencer when you’d been broken up for months. Hell, you hadn’t heard from him at all since you had parted ways—except from the odd text about returning each others’ things. It was obvious he had moved on, and here you were, filling up his voicemail with blubbering messages and making references to adolescent books.

“God, sorry about this.” You breathed out a watery chuckle. “I just…didn’t want to be alone, I guess. But that’s-um-not your problem anymore, so I’m—I’m sorry. Have a nice night.” Your voice cracked and you hung up before you could start weeping down the line. You didn’t need to look even more pathetic.

You pulled your phone away from your ear, looking down at his contact photo through blurred vision. He was smiling—not the tight, closed lip smile he gave other people, but a full, bright smile that had his dimples showing. One of your hands was wrapped loosely around his neck and the other was holding your phone just far enough away to capture both of your smiles. Your head was rested on top of his shoulder, tilted just slightly to the left so your temple was brushing against his.

It felt like looking at a vintage photograph—you knew those people and their happiness existed at some point in time, but it wasn’t tangible; you couldn’t verify it was real.

When you were with Spencer, you never doubted how real it was. All you had to was look at him across the room and he’d flash you a smile identical to the one in that photo and you’d just…know.

It felt like forever ago now that you’d been on the receiving end of that grin and it killed you. So much so that before you could consider the repercussions, you were trudging through to your kitchen and grabbing the bottle of whiskey that sat unopened in your cabinet. It had been a present—from Rossi, actually. When Spencer had first introduced you to the team, the older man had given it to you as something of a welcome gift. Of course, he couldn’t have known you weren’t much of a drinker, and since you wanted to make a good impression (and because you were sure it had cost more than all the alcohol you had consumed in your life combined) you accepted it—deciding to save it for a rainy day.

You think this qualified.

You grabbed the bottle, a glass, and padded back through to your living room, slumping onto your couch. You filled your glass up a little less than halfway before gulping it down, enjoying the burn in your throat—it was better than the constant thickness.

You poured yourself another glass before turning on the TV. You weren’t sure what was playing—it didn’t really matter anyway, your vision was already being obscured by tears again.

You thought the pounding was in your head at first—serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Only, it wasn’t, because moments later the pounding subsided and instead, your apartment door was opening, casting your pitch-black living room in a yellow glow which temporarily blinded you.

You squeezed your eyes shut, your mind hazy—again, serves you right for drinking half a bottle of whiskey. Someone was calling your name, but there was too much sensory input for you to make out who.

You certainly hoped it wasn’t a paramedic—maybe your neighbour had heard you sobbing for the last four hours and decided you needed a wellness check. Then there were hands on your face, and that had you flicking your eyes open, because you recognised those hands—impossibly soft, with a callus on his trigger finger being the only thing to mar them. Spencer.

“Spencer?” You slurred.

He sighed in exasperation (or relief) and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Are you alright? You weren’t answering your phone, I thought…” He trailed off, worry evident in his voice.

You sat up then, trying to compose yourself even though the room was spinning. Fucking whiskey. You rubbed your eyes haphazardly, blinking until you could finally see.

You should’ve stayed bleary-eyed. Because nothing could prepare you for the way your breath hitched when you finally saw him. After months of not seeing each other, Spencer was here, sitting on your couch, and he was looking at you like you were something fragile, and—God, you needed another drink. You turned away from him, reaching for the neck of the bottle as you spoke.

“I’m fine.”

Before you could lift it up, Spencer gently pried your hand away from the bottle with his own, and then slid it across the coffee table with his other.

“You’re drunk. No more of that, please.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but he left no room to argue. You probably would’ve objected anyway, if it weren’t for the way he kept his hand clasped around yours, rubbing soothing circles into your pulse point almost absentmindedly.

You glanced up to him—to stop yourself from staring at your hand in his and how natural it felt, more than anything—but that proved to be a mistake too, because he looked just as beautiful as thirty seconds prior and it felt just as natural for him to be sitting next to you on your sofa, but it wasn’t natural anymore.

“How did you get in?”

“My key.”

“Oh.”

Right. The key that he still had because you refused to meet up with him to let him return it. He tried for weeks to contact you, but you ignored him, because getting the key back meant things were finally over. You supposed he could return it now—maybe that’s why he came in the first place.

“Why did you come?” You asked, your voice impossibly small.

“You called.” He replied—as though he was talking about something as simple as the weather. You call and I come.

You searched in his eyes for any sign of a lie, but of course, there was none. He was being completely genuine—as always. You were the awful ex-girlfriend who left concerning voicemails on his phone and had him travelling to your apartment in the middle of the night only for him to look completely okay with the situation—like there was nothing he’d rather be doing than making sure you were safe.

You couldn’t help the way tears sprung to your eyes or your lip began to tremble as you lolled your head back onto the couch, pulling your gaze away from his.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

You liked to consider yourself to be a strong person. You had been through things in your life that were objectively worse than your breakup with Spencer, but something about the gentleness of his tone and the way he had let one of his many (past) petnames for you slip had your throat tightening and you ducked your head into your one hand—the other still seized by Spencer’s—to try and muffle a sob.

“Hey,” He trailed his hand that was wrapped around yours up your arm, all the way to your shoulder blade before lightly guiding you towards him. You don’t have enough energy in you to fight his magnetic pull, so you shuffle over until you can bury your head into his shirt. You inhale his scent; vanilla, neroli, and so him it makes you ache.

Stopping your tears is futile—you’d know, they’d barely ceased all night—so you just let them fall, seeping into Spencer’s tie as he rubs one hand softly up and down your back, the other cradling the crown of your head.

His breathing is quiet and slow—the exact opposite of yours—and you try to imitate it—forcing air into your lungs. When your sobbing has turned to shaky breathing and the occasional sniffle, he speaks up.

“Do you want to talk?”

Talk about what? About what had happened today—what had led you to calling him? Talk about how for the last few months, he had been the only person you had wanted to call?

“No.” You hated how pitiful you sounded.

“Okay.”

Spencer didn’t say anything else for a minute—your synchronised breathing being the only thing to stop the room from falling into dead silence.

“You need to rehydrate.” He murmured, smoothing down your hair.

You hummed into him, in no hurry to unwrap yourself from his body. You probably wouldn’t get to be this close to him again, after all.

He moved both of his hands to your biceps, pulling you back slightly so you could look at him. He knitted his brows together in a silent plea which had you rolling your eyes petulantly, your lashes still damp from tears.

“Fine.” You peeled yourself off of him, pushing yourself into a standing position. Horrible mistake. You were still incredibly drunk, turns out, and everything was spinning a little bit and come to think of it, you were also nauseous and—

“Careful, lovely.” Spencer placed his hand firmly on the small of your back, keeping you upright.

and—actually, you were fine now.

He stood too, moving his hand just slightly over to your waist so he could guide you to the kitchen. When he knew you could stand upright—even if you were relying mostly on the counter behind you—he grabbed a glass from your cabinet, moving around effortlessly to pour you some water. The sight was so domestic you almost wanted to cry again. Maybe in some alternate timeline, where you and him could’ve worked, this would be an every day thing—minus the drunk sobbing part, of course.

He handed you the glass of water, watching as you took a few sips. He raised an eyebrow, nodding his head slowly.

“Whole thing, please.”

You let out an exasperated (affectionate) sigh and gulped the rest of it down, setting it on the counter behind you.

“Happy?”

“Very.”

You smirked, trailing your gaze down his body. He was still in his work clothes which, at the very least, meant he wasn’t on a date before he came here. He always changed before dates—well, for you, anyway. You wondered if he had been on any dates since the breakup—you certainly hadn’t. It had been long enough now that it wouldn’t be weird for you to start seeing other people—but you didn’t want to. You weren’t sure you’d ever want to, to be completely honest.

The more you thought about it, the more the whole thing seemed stupid. You didn’t want anyone else, you wanted Spencer. You had tried to get over him but if tonight was any indication—it clearly wasn’t working. You can’t even remember why you broke up in the first place—it all seemed so insignificant now. No amount of pain you had ever experienced in your relationship had come close to that of living without him.

You met his eyes once more and it was like he could see the question brewing. He tried to stop you, calling your name in a quiet warning, but you ignored him.

“Why did we break up?”

He frowned, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth with his tongue in that maddening way he did.

“I—you know why—“

“No, but I don’t! I know things were difficult sometimes but that doesn’t mean it didn’t work. It worked—we worked.” Your eyes were stinging again.

Spencer pressed his index and middle finger into his eye, furrowing his brows.

“I know, I know we worked, angel—but you were sad all the time, remember? I was gone so often and it wasn’t good for you.” His true emotions were indecipherable but his tone was soft, and you wished you could be as calm about this as him. Did he just not care as much as you did?

“But It’s—It’s worse now—“ You choked out, tears falling freely now. “I was sad when you were gone, but you always came back—you don’t come back anymore.”

Spencer removed his hand from his face, flexing it at his side like he was uncertain what to do with himself before taking a stride towards you. He brought a hand to your face, wiping the tears from under your eyes delicately—like you were made of porcelain.

“Listen, sweetheart—alcohol affects your ability to regulate your emotions and I know right now it might feel worse but that doesn’t mean it always—“

“Spencer, stop! It’s not the fucking alcohol, I miss you! I miss you all of the time! Even—even when I’m having a good day—I still want you—and especially when I—when I have a bad day—“ You choked out through heaving breaths.

“Breathe.” He urges, cupping your cheek. And you’re so, so angry, and sad, and tired that you have no choice but to shut up and listen to him. When you’ve adequately calmed down, he moves his hand to your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him.

“I don’t think we should talk about this tonight but I—“ You open your mouth to protest.

“I promise we can talk about it tomorrow when you’re sober—if you still want to.”

Your lip trembles of its own volition and you frown.

“Of course I want to.”

“Okay,”

“Okay.”

He gives your eyes a final wipe before he’s—rather unexpectedly—pulling you into a hug. You all but melt into him, your head finding its home in his sternum and your arms wrapping around his middle. He tilts his head down, kissing the top of your head—and you’re certain you can’t let this go again. You will chain him down before Spencer leaves this apartment again.

Everything is wordless from there—mostly because you’re so, so exhausted that even talking seems like too difficult a task. Spencer helps you find something more comfortable to change into and you pull out an old t-shirt of his and a pair of plaid pyjama pants you had kept here for him. I guess your keeping them ‘just in case you needed them in the future’ had come in handy, after all.

As you washed your face, Spencer snuck through to the kitchen, refilling your water and grabbing two aspirin in a not-so-subtle attempt to help the inevitable hangover you were going to have in the morning.

You caught him placing them on your bedside table and mock gasped.

“Trying to drug me in my sleep so you can make a run for it in the night?”

He grinned lazily—exhaustion creeping up on him as well.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

You smiled, flopping yourself onto your bed rather ungraciously. Spencer looked at you like you were something fascinating before biting his lip, clearly deep in thought.

“What?” You let out a self-effacing little chuckle.

“I was just…wondering…if you’d like me to sleep on the couch?”

You probably should’ve been more careful in your facial expressions considering you were still broken up but your thoughts about that offer were obvious.

“No, stay.” Stay in your bed, in your apartment—stay anywhere that was close to you.

Maybe you were coming on a little too strong.

“Unless you want to, I mean—“

“No, no—I’ll stay.” Forever, preferably.

He walked around to the other side of your bed—as he had done so many times before—and sat down, pulling the covers over his legs. You mirrored his movements before flicking your bedside lamp out, turning to face him.

You were a little thankful you were so out of it, because this had the potential to be very awkward otherwise. Spencer shuffled down so that he was at eye level with you, turning to face you as well.

You just stared for a moment, committing him to memory. The moonlight had a way of highlighting all the high points of his face, and the twinkle in his eyes, and—God, you were so glad the moon existed and that Spencer was in your bed that you couldn’t help but giggle.

“What?” Spencer laughed along with you, even though he had no idea what was so funny.

“Nothing. You’re pretty.”

“You’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“Don’t wanna.”

“Why?”

“Scared you’ll be gone when I wake up—like I made it all up.”

Spencer’s smile faded then, and he looked at you with something that seemed so much like the one thing you had been willing yourself to stop doing the whole time that you’d been broken up, that it almost took your breath away.

“I won’t. I promised, didn’t I?”

You nodded.

“So there’s nothing to worry about. Now get some sleep, lovely.”

You smiled, feeling Spencer’s hand inching towards yours. He intertwined them and gave yours a squeeze.

“Just in case you make a run for it in the night.”

You chuckled, your eyelids fluttering shut. Yeah, you could make it work.

part two!

[hermetiqa]

When will you meet your future spouse?

Reminder: it doesn't matter if you saw this reading a day or a week or a month or a year after posting this. My readings are timeless. You'll see this when you're meant to see this and receive your message.

Close your eyes and take a deep breath before picking a pile. If you feel drawn to more than one pile, it's alright, you may take the piles that you're drawn to. What's important is to take it how it resonates and leave what doesn't.

PAID READINGS | TIP JAR | FEEDBACK

MASTERLIST | PLEASE HELP IF YOU CAN

NOTE: Please feel free to give me a feedback on my asks about the reading! I would highly appreciate it and it'll be a huge help for me to improve as a reader.

Pile 1

Hello, Pile 1! I feel like you'll meet your future spouse when you prefer to be alone and be away from all the people you already know. You might think of going to some camp alone and when you're getting together in the camp, you might have come up with the idea of using a different name when you introduce yourself because you intend not to share who you truly are. You might think of the names Ella, Lily, Alisha, Cindy, Helena. The spelling of the names doesn't matter, any alternative spellings or name variations could be in your mind too. You might even use an odd name, like a name known to be masculine such as Alex and George. There's a TikToker who keeps popping in my head right now, the one who has a Chloe Paddington bags and named her bags. You might have had this camp and name idea from her. I can see that your future spouse might be the one who would approach you first and start the conversation, and they really have a strong masculine energy here while you're the feminine one. I'm also getting an intuitive energy from you and you might have a feeling that you feel like you've known each other for a long time, even if it was really your first time meeting each other. You might be a fire sign and they could be a water sign, but you're quite compatible. It seems like you could have each other's sun in one's moon and/or ascendant.

Signs: dark/black hair, curly hair, brown eyes, dark/light academia fashion style, white loose button-down shirt, latino/a looks, speaks spanish and italian, campfire, marshmallows, trees, beach, seashore, lowtide, collecting seashells

Pile 2

Hello, Pile 2! As for you, I'm seeing a picnic that involves books and paintings. 01:01 on the clock right now. You might think of reading a book or doing a painting, specifically watercolor or oil painting, in the afternoon. You might do this alone in a park or somewhere that has a pond. To be more detailed, I'm getting that you might read a book in a park and would prefer to paint some place that has a pond with koi fish or water lilies so you can paint them. I'm getting the seasons spring and summer too. You could be an introvert and you often go to your comfort places to breathe and rewind. And your future spouse would notice you visiting the same place oftentimes. They could observe you for a while before approaching you as well. And I feel like they might ask you if they could join you to read a book or paint something. You might even exchange books and paintings. You might annotate each other's books and paint each other's paintings (you know the thing where you both paint something on your canvas and you exchange each other's unfinished paintings and add something, and so on).

Signs: dark/brunette hair, curly hair, blue eyes, strong jawline, downtown/retro fashion, long white skirts, baggy shirts, leather bag, doc martens, the secret history, if we were villains, ophelia, the lumineers, (curtain) bangs, wavy hair, booktok

Pile 3

Hello, Pile 3! I feel like you'll meet yours when you're doing some charity event or donating something. It could be related to dogs and/or cats, so you could be pet lovers. This might be an all-of-a-sudden decision because the charity/donation wasn't planned that much but I'm getting that you might meet there. You might organize the charity or help them organize and they'll help too, and you might do most of the work together. I'm also getting that this is when you're trying to become a better person and finally end your toxic habits. I feel like you have feminine energy but to other people, you show your masculine energy. You might think of getting something to eat together at lunch when you work together after a charity event, and this is when you'll start to know each other. You'll be interested in each other's interests and might think that you're compatible, and might suit each other. You'll be really fond of each other for a while which will lead you to some dates and hanging out a lot. I feel like you'll both reciprocate each other's wants and needs in this connection, especially with all the adjustments at first, but you'll be close friends even while you're dating, you might be comfortable to be around each other as if you're best friends.

Signs: blonde, blue/green eyes, wavy hair, daisies/flowers on hair, blue shorts, white and blue shirt, band shirts, casual fashion, flexible, gymnastics and ballet (during childhood), waffles, hotdogs, pizzas, medium hair length, straight hair, brown hair highlights, summer

[trillyke]

Simblreen 2024 is just around the corner, so let me summarize how you can collect special CC items from me by participating in the pumpkin hunt event on my Tumblr! Can't believe it is gonna be my 9th year participating in Simblreen! 🎃

🍬How does it work? Every day throughout the event one pumpkin 🎃 is gonna be hiding on my page somewhere - leading to a secret post, my treat of the day. The pumpkin will stay at the same position for 24 hours, so you can participate any time, timezone differences are not a problem. Once you found the pumpkin clicking on it will lead you to your treat. The pumpkins will be in visible places on my tumblr page. You might have to look around my site a bit, clicking on tabs and things, but I will not hide them in my individual posts, you don’t have to go through them. Use the desktop tumblr for hunting, not the mobile app.

🍬How many treats? I’ll have 3 treats for the event, I’ll hide 1 pumpkin 🎃 each day. (The next day another pumpkin will be hidden on a different location, etc.)

🍬When? Weekend 1: October 18: one 🎃 hidden (gift #1) October 19: one 🎃 hidden (gift #2) October 20: one 🎃 hidden (gift #3)

Weekend 2: October 25th, 26th and 27th: all three previous pumpkins are hidden around my page at the same time through the whole weekend, last chance to find them all! (gift #1, #2 and #3)

🍬Help, I can’t find the pumpkin(s)! Will you release your treats after the event? You can ask for a hint through my inbox every day, but of course, I will release all treats to the public after the event!

🍬Can I post pictures of the treats? I ask you to keep them secret on the first weekend, but from 21st on you are free to post pictures. But please don’t share the links to the treats!

Happy pumpkin hunting! 🎃

(Please don’t send trick or treat messages this year! >-<)

For more info about the event please visit @simblreenofficial To get my treats from previous years please check this tag!

[astra-ravana]

Counting Crows

As far as symbolism goes crows are a pretty mixed bag. To some they are the sacred messengers of spirits or deities and signs of good fortune, to others, they are an omen of bad luck, sorrow, and death. Witches have been divinating the crow's message, through various methods, for centuries and perhaps the most notable of these is the practice of counting crows. Granted, there are several variations of this, handed down through poems and literature, but what about counting crows as an in depth divination method? Next time you see crows flying around, consider the following:

1 Crow:

• Spiritual/divine messenger

• Transformation

• Sudden change

• Death and rebirth

• Pay attention to your intuition

• Upcoming difficulties or misfortune

• Fears and anxiety

• Our shadow

2 Crows:

• Good luck and good news

• Positive events

• Love and harmony

• Partnership

• Joy

• Success is just around the corner

• Creativity and the arts

• Protection and guidance

• Confidence in your decisions

• Be honest and open with your emotions

• Symbolic of Odin

3 Crows:

• Possible warning of misfortune or negative events coming

• Secrets and intuition

• Wedding or celebration

• Birth of a girl

• Balance and unity

• The Otherworld and Underworld

• Curiosity, intelligence, higher perspectives

• Mind, body, spirit (connection to the Ether)

• Destiny

• Magick, witchcraft, and alchemy

• Symbolic of Hekate and Morrigan

4 Crows:

• Great news

• Abundance

• Job opportunity or marriage

• New direction in life

• Fresh start

• Excitement

• The start of a journey

• Fertility

• New projects

• Birth of a boy

• New beginnings

5 Crows:

• Good fortune

• Money is coming

• Prosperity, abundance, and growth

• Wealth

• Promotions, awards, recognition

• Winning

• Beware of accidents, mishaps, and dangers

6 Crows:

• Significant life event

• Karma

• Start of a spiritual journey or awakening

• Difficulty

• Metamorphosis

• Winning a prize, or receiving an inheritance

• Loss or gain

• Thresholds

7 Crows:

• The Universe is aligned

• Peace, harmony, tranquility

• Balance

• Collective wisdom

• Strength

• Protection from negativity

• Pause and reflect

• Awareness

• Insights

• Meditation

• The truth

• Mystery solved

8 Crows:

• Manifestation

• Seize the day

• Auspicious omen

• Windfalls

• Good luck

• Mind over matter

• Golden opportunities

• Focus

• Dedication

• Wishes granted

• A positive, life-altering experience

9 Crows:

• Romantic love

• New love or strengthening current relationships

• Deep emotional connections

• Positive recognition and regard

• Answered prayers

• Impending danger

• Caution and common sense

• Judgement

• Divine authority and higher powers

10 Crows:

• Spiritual epiphany

• Channel for higher realms

• Reset, reevaluate

• Insights into the future

• Otherworldly intuition

• Psychic ability

• The end of one phase and beginning of another

• Complete turn around in luck

• The Universe is talking to you

Larger Flocks:

• Great spritual power

• A higher purpose

• The big picture

• You are seen and acknowledged

• The Universe has your back

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Favorite Guest (2) | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

Part 1

Trey considered himself a peaceful man. Exalted in the company he worked at, a reliable watchman, and a highly trusted man in his personal life. This is probably why he was the only one who noticed the dissolving of his friend’s position and the praise for his miraculous results with one of the hardest hybrids they had in captivity. 

With cameras and sensors all over the zoo, it was up to him to be the first to see everything. To warn the upper management and the scientists who were all too engrossed in their studies to be aware of the impending danger from their subjects of interest. It wasn’t his job to map out the tremors from ‘upper management’  but after being instructed to stop recording during certain officials visits, he accepted it as his duty. 

Ring

Ring

“Yo Yo it’s Cater D, go ahead and leave me a message and follow me on my socials after the beep!” 

Beep

Hearing the message from his friend when he wasn’t stuttering and sobbing uncontrollably didn’t help settle Trey’s suspicions. On paper, they never knew each other but in truth, they’d met in school and kept in contact even as they got into the same line of work. Confidentiality was a line they crossed long ago sharing the events of their work. Trey didn’t feel bad, he figured it was human to share secrets especially, against the monstrous image of the company they had, only interested in the height of the discovery of new life. 

It was also why Trey debated with himself while he watched the loudest sensor go off. The blaring red alarm was loud but due to secrecy the soundproofing of his office let only Trey know about the impending doom. 

The sensor was a valued company secret, the only technological link to the largest threat they’d entrapped. The green Naga that was hundreds of meters (and that was by guessing) the anomaly that turned themselves in and claimed to have convinced the other subjects to stop fighting on his command–was on the move. In an outdated attempt to track him and the other nagas, a plate was installed near the entrance of the cave they gravitated to. There were other cameras and recorders in there but all were dismantled, smashed, or broken before they could collect any data. 

The plate was based on weight and depending on how much longer it was pressed down depended on who was coming out of the cave. 3 meters was the silver-tailed one. 6 meters was the blue one. But any reading over that was registered as the green one. 

This would have been a time for him to unlock the shelf and flip the switch. Putting the entire base on a code dragon: an appropriate name for the Naga they weren’t even sure was one. Evidence suggested that properly shutting down the facility would be the goal….but Trey was hesitating. 

This same facility of people had thrust a dear friend of his into the fire by making him the scapegoat to secure the Naga’s first demands. Clearing his existence from all walks of life when he exercised his morality. Risking his life to defy whatever demands those ‘higher-ups’ had led out.

Cater was now gone. 

All that remained were the scientists who were responsible. 

Without being scared it was clear that the ‘higher-ups’ were worried about an uprising. There was so much they didn’t know about the subjects they’d kept trapped. Always discovering new abilities with the massacres of many employees. It was bound to happen. And with the green Naga’s only confirmation of peace was that he was looking for something possibly being fulfilled with the poor guest from the zoo. 

So the urge to call an early day off grew more as other sensors from separate exhibits began to ring. 

“Yeah, I think it’s best if I take an early day off.”

____________________________________________________________

Hearing the distant sound of glass breaking from inside the cave was the signal you were waiting for. Letting Rollo pick you up, you watched from deeper than the entrance to watch the tip of Malleus’ tail finally disappear into the darkness.. 

“Wow, he is so long.”

Idia giggled as he finished his his contraption, “And girthy too. Hehehe.”

Rollo was likely sneering at him but you couldn’t tell. The blue-haired Naga didn’t look bothered in the slightest, instead, he was smiling widely as he handled the controller. The part of the plan that Malleus allowed involved all three of your participation—Operation Leftovers!

“Idia are you all set up to go?’

“Yup! Those batteries you had worked so much better than the ones I’ve got. And the little gadget in your bag was really–”

“Idia please just send the thing out. I’m ready to forgo the entire plan if you rant another moment longer.”

The Naga with the handmade drone pouted a little before clicking some buttons. The whirring of the drone charging up before flying off. With a phone he swiped as a monitor for his drone he looked intently at the screen. Moving closer to him you watched the fuzzy image become clear. It showed the jungle of the enclosure traversed through by something large. The trees and grass are lying irregularly, some things snapped as though the Naga had gone through breaking them mid-launch. The drone easily maneuvered through the remains to reveal the glass of the enclosure shattered and surrounding it the scientists downed. 

Looking over your shoulder Idia mumbled to himself,” He really didn’t save any for the rest of us, did he?”

You heard it and while you weren’t fond of the scientists who’d brought you here, they were still human. It made your stomach turn as Rollo perked up with a smile as Idia loosely pointed out a few Malleus had missed. The silver Naga darted off from you two, eager to get his hands bloodied with the humans he’d been loathing for months.

“C’mon (Y/n), he might get too excited and leave us behind.”

Accepting Idia’s invitation you climb his back, rubbing your watering eyes into the vast expanse of his cerulean locks. Taking deep breaths you try to distract yourself with the smooth gliding of his tail and the occasional demented giggling he lets out while watching the drone screen. Mentally patting yourself on the back, you’re glad you declined Malleus’ offer to carry you while he cleared a path. When you warned him about the use of guns or explosives he laughed, informing you that ‘the pellets sent in the past were nothing for someone as familiar with fire’ as he. As much as you’d love to watch him deflect, you assured him you’d be more helpful in the rear. Promising you’d be able to guide the three of you out of the facility without putting any of you in too much danger—much to Rollo’s displeasure. The plan hinges on Malleus’ destructive capabilities and the other captive creatures also take advantage. 

Idia slowed as he cautiously turned the corner to find Rollo throwing a formerly alive scientist into a nearby wall. Still controlling the drone it provided a cleared path to the entrance of the zoo and parking lot, save for the few guests running in fear. 

“It seems like Malleus is already headed to your place.”

You sighed as you pictured the giant Naga scaring your neighbors. Unfortunately, when you tried to convince him of another rendezvous point he dismissed your worries—claiming that he’d love to enjoy himself in the quaint confines of your human nest. You just hoped he hadn’t destroyed your furniture while squeezing into the tight space. Rollo pulled you out of your 

“Now how do we get to your ‘inconspicuous’ route?”

“We have to go to the car park.”

They both looked at each other before looking at you again. 

“The place where we put the metal tools with wheels.”

“Oh!” “Why didn’t you just say that from the beginning.”

Mapping out the way with Idia’s drone you urged the duo to move quickly; ignoring their not-so-silent snickering about ‘how you were the slow one with your tiny single-jointed legs.’ The surreal relief of stepping over scientists’ bodies and opening the staff-only door you had been escorted through just hours before. The sun was setting now and you were grateful that it looked like the general zoo was closed now. It made the laughable scene of shoving two Nagas into your car less conspicuous. At this point the only battle was driving with those two bickering right in your ear. 

“Don’t touch me!”

“I literally can’t right now! Maybe if you scooched a litte-”

“Me!? Scooch!? Are you blind?”

“Why are you being so pissy lately!?”

“ME!? PISSY?! YOU WANT ME TO SHOW YOU—”

After a short eternity of driving; finally, you could open the door to your destination, watching as they unfurled and wiggled away from each other. All that was left was for you to unlock–or rather just open the door seeing as it was already unlocked. What a promising sign.

“So this is my house, feel free to make yourselves at ho—”

The feeling of wind slapping your face and the disappearing silver tail past a corner was another shock. As if sensing your disbelief Idia curled around you unbearably close nuzzling into your neck while humming.

“He’s just worried Malleus took over all your smell.”

“Really? I thought he just wanted to find someplace far from us.”

“...Maybe that too…”

“I see.”

“You got any games?”

It took a while to get inside the actual door considering Idia was refusing to release you from his hold. Inching yourself into your home it was apparent Malleus had made himself at home, draped over your couch, the kitchen, and all hallways was his emerald shimmering tail. Standing firm–almost rocklike as you struggled to climb past with ease.  You were able to shake Idia off you when you introduced him to your television, leaving him with instructions not to break anything you set out to find the Naga all spread throughout the house. 

It was a battle trying to balance yourself on the steps that were being majorly taken by the muscular tail draped on the entirety of the stairs. But you made it, taking a breath before pushing the door to your room–-it was halfway closed on the rest of Malleus’ tail. 

Taking up the entirety of the room was Malleus, leaning low on the side of your bed, imitating what would’ve been a person kneeling. The level he was in served its purpose as it seemed, he was whispering something in Rollo’s ear. The grumpy Naga was perfectly curled, fitting on your bed as he laid face down into your pillow. He was violently clutching the plush cotton but the seconds that you spied Malleus’ whispering it seemed to weaken. 

Malleus turned and smiled, “Happy your home, (Y/n)!” 

Slithering away from Rollo he held you into his chest, lightly digging his nose into your head. No doubt, smelling you for the umpteenth time. You couldn’t tell if he was intentionally blocking your vision or genuinely interested in what he was asking.

“Do you have anything to eat, (Y/n)?”

“I can make something real fast, though I don’t know if it’ll be any good,” you glanced at his tail,” or enough.”

“That is fine, shall we go?”

He was already moving you with him as he headed to the door. You tried to look past him at Rollo but Malleus was intent on leading you out. 

“What about Rollo isn’t he hungry?”

Malleus completely took you off the floor, carrying you down the stairs while nuzzling his head into your own. Figuring he was attempting to calm you, you stopped trying to look tucking your legs up higher as he reached the ground floor.

“He will be fine for now. Do not worry about him.”

__________________________________________________________

The sun had long since set and the kitchen was closed. The only human within the house was fast asleep under the covers, subconsciously fighting the blue-scaled Naga who was dutifully playing with a switch. His tail was curled between his human’s legs in a snug hold casually gaming while his human snored into the night. 

The other two Naga were downstairs, sitting in the dark without the lights on. They didn’t need it. Their gray and green eyes can see each other perfectly clear. Rollo was on what (Y/n) called a couch coiling his tail repeatedly while he kneaded at the pillow he’d been squeezing for over six hours. Now and then dragging his nose along the cover while inhaling the scent of its original owner still lingering in the linen. 

“I am still hungry.”

Malleus kept his distance leaning over the back of the couch and letting his head rest on his arms. His gaze worriedly flickering to his mate’s face and then to the permanent puncture marks into his pale unattended neck.

“Are you listening?”

Rollo was turned around now as if aware that his giant mate was distracted from listening to his woes whining. He was peeved for many reasons. The irritating scent of other inferior humans on both sides of his newest mate’s home. The occasional whiff of dominance his other mate was exuding and the inferiority that came with being near him. But most of all the lack of a filling meal was on his mind; especially when just hours before perfect morsels surrounded him.

“I am.”

The husky voice and the feeling of Malleus’ weight curling around his smaller tail was a constant reminder of his mate’s comforting superiority. This was evident for the same reason he hadn’t gorged himself while leaving the prison, he dreamed of eating his way out of. Just as he hated he loved Malleus knew this was what the problem was.

“You were not able to eat during your escape.”

It wasn’t a question, the plan never included him needing to attack others. Granted there were a few outliers, but it wasn’t enough to satiate him. Even worse there were quite a few opportunities to eat some humans-paralyzed with fear. But he refrained, for the their newest mate was too judgmental and it would be inconvenient if they tried to run now.

“Hardly, it wasn’t enough to keep any one full.”

Malleus purred as he ran his fingers up the spine of his mate, letting his tail lock around Rollo’s as he shivered.

“I am grateful you kept (Y/n)’s happiness in mind.”

Rollo huffed, “Was there ever a doubt I wouldn’t?”

Malleus answered with a kiss to his hips, unraveling himself as he made his way to a window that was already opened. 

“How about we both ‘eat out?’ (Y/n) was certain there would be an influx of their law enforcement attempting to discover what was going on.”

 Rollo smirked, “Sounds delicious. I say we go!”

 Rollo didn’t need to be told twice dashing past Malleus and onto the darkened allies in the direction of the zoon. Before Malleus could follow he looked to stairs with a woeful pout. 

“Don’t make that face, I’ve got (Y/n). We’ll be fine.”

Malleus tilted his head as if to ask, ‘Are you sure?’

Idia rolled his golden eyes, finally looking up from his game to capture the lips of the greedy dragon. After a minute of Idia attempting to accomplish his game while sucking the forked tongue down his throat, he was released with a loving nip to his neck. 

“Have a nice meal you two.”

[theplotmage]

Halloween-themed Fantasy Festival and Unique Events for Worldbuilding:

1. Whispers Eve – A night when the spirits of the lost whisper secrets to the living.

2. Harrowtide – A festival of fear where nightmares walk among the people.

3. Veilfall – The thin barrier between worlds collapses, allowing passage for the dead.

4. Moonshadow Revel – When the moon is dark, shadowy creatures come out to celebrate.

5. Hallowed Lanterns – A night where enchanted lanterns guide the dead home.

6. Soul’s Gate – The gate between the mortal world and the afterlife swings open.

7. Glimmernight – A festival where ghosts appear as shimmering lights.

8. Dreadmasque – A masquerade where each mask hides a dark secret.

9. Reaping Hollow – An event where spirits return to reclaim what they’ve lost.

10. Bloodfire Vigil – Bonfires are lit with blood magic to protect against the undead.

11. Darkmoon Ascendance – A night where the moon turns black and dark magic reigns.

12. Spectral Tide – The dead rise as the tide reaches its highest point.

13. Twilight’s Grasp – The setting sun never fully disappears, keeping the world in twilight where horrors lurk.

14. Night of the Wraiths – Wraiths descend to collect souls and drag them into the underworld.

15. Frostgrave Feast – A feast in the frozen woods where the spirits of winter grant wishes, but at a price.

16. Bonefire Rites – Sacred fires are lit to honor ancestors and keep malevolent spirits at bay.

17. Witch’s Mark – A night when those who bear a witch’s mark gain immense, but temporary, power.

18. Gravemist Rising – The fog from graves rises, filled with whispers and secrets from the dead.

19. Shadowveil Crossing – A ritual where people cross over into the shadow world to commune with spirits.

20. Autumn’s Curse – A festival where the curse of eternal autumn brings creatures of decay to life.

21. Lantern of Souls – A single lantern, said to hold the souls of the departed, guides the lost on Halloween.

22. Phantom’s Requiem – A symphony is played by phantoms, echoing through the realm of the living.

23. Cindershade Festival – Celebrating the power of fire to keep the dark spirits away.

24. Nightmare’s End – A gathering where the most vivid nightmares are summoned and must be conquered.

25. Hallowveil Procession – A grand parade of masked figures representing both life and death.

26. Gloomhaven Masquerade – A ball held in an eerie town where no one knows who is mortal and who is not.

27. Midnight Harvest – A harvest festival under the blood moon where sacrifices are made to dark gods.

28. Ebon Wreath – A wreath of black flowers is hung on every door to protect against roaming spirits.

29. Soulthorn Festival – A thorny forest springs to life, and only those who navigate it can escape the spirits within.

30. Eclipse of Ashes – During a total eclipse, the ashes of the dead rain down, bringing with them cryptic messages.

31. Gravenight Dance – A dance held in a cemetery where ghosts lead the living in one last waltz.

32. Night of the Void – The stars disappear, leaving the world in utter darkness as creatures from the void emerge.

33. Horror’s Ascendant – A festival that celebrates the rise of a forgotten terror that once plagued the world.

34. Tide of the Forsaken – A night when those forsaken by the gods are given one last chance to walk among the living.

35. Mournstar Vigil – A night when the mournful star rises and the dead follow its path back to the mortal realm.

36. Graveshadow Feast – A festival where the living feast with their deceased ancestors.

37. Shroudfall – The shroud between life and death dissolves, allowing creatures of darkness to invade.

38. Hollowlight Procession – Spirits of lost children carry lanterns, leading a parade through the haunted woods.

39. Doomveil Gathering – A gathering of witches and warlocks under a cursed sky to summon forbidden magic.

40. Veilfire Festival – A festival where fire dances upon the veil between worlds, granting glimpses of the afterlife.

41. Ruinwake Revelry – A chaotic festival celebrating destruction and chaos, where dark beings rise from ruin.

42. Blackthorn Masque – A masquerade in a cursed castle where everyone wears masks of thorns.

43. Echoes of Dust – A ceremony where the dust of ancient beings blows through the town, and their voices are heard once more.

44. Ashen Sun – The sun turns ashen, and with it, the spirits of forgotten warriors rise from their graves.

45. Night of Unraveling – A night when the fabric of reality unravels, and the boundary between dimensions fades.

46. Hushmoor Eve – A silent evening where all sound is banned to prevent awakening the slumbering dead.

47. Cryptwatch Festival – Vigilant watch over ancient crypts, where treasure seekers try to unlock the secrets of eternal life.

48. Wraith’s Breath – A chilling wind blows through town, said to be the breath of wraiths hunting for souls.

49. Duskmire Celebration – A festival in a swampy region where creatures of the mire rise to celebrate with the living.

50. Moonless Descent – A night where the moon disappears and the world descends into a temporary abyss, where anything can happen.

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[starmosaics]

Mars in the 8th house pt. 1/3

I'm splitting this into parts because there's a lot to cover with this placement.

A person with an 8th house Mars doesn't just share anything with anybody, they'll test you and make sure that you can be trusted before sharing anything about themselves other than surface-leveled things. From the outside, an 8H Mars person seems distant, kept, shut off, and mysterious; they're an enigma. Many people feel intimidated just by being in the 8H Mars person's presence. People want to desperately figure this person out or pinpoint something about them, but just simply can't. The reason 8H Mars people are so guarded is because they most likely have faced life-altering pain or traumatic experiences at some point in their lives, commonly due to death or betrayal by other people. They can be incredibly hesitant or totally reluctant with trusting and opening up to others. They tend to keep people at arms length and might have paranoid thoughts about getting close to people because of their trust issues and reluctance to let down their guard. They are incredibly hypervigilant people and it takes a long time for them to express their vulnerabilities.

These people are naturally investigative and are great at researching and absorbing information. They're like sponges when it comes to obtaining details that reveals the truth. They love digging things up beyond the surface, revealing the truth, and bringing things to light. They want to understand things on a much deeper, intellectual level to reveal secrets and to solve cryptic and hidden messages. They either are great sources themselves or provide great sources for others and will always show up with the cold hard facts. I worked with a girl who had an 8H Mars and she did so much research on employee's rights to dig up what illegal things our management was getting away with. She obsessed over it for months and was fixated on "exposing" the institution we worked for. I am also friends with a guy who does scientific research at his school as a job who has an 8H Mars. I have an 8H Mars and am deeply invested in astrology.

These people are wonderful friends, family members and partners, and will always be the first responder when someone they care about is in a dire situation. They're also the best person to be with when in a dangerous or life-threatening situation. These are the types of people to remain calm and collected to ensure that whatever is at hand is taken care of. During an emergency, they're the ones to brainstorm and come up with a plan to execute; they're incredible strategists. This is most likely due to having dealt with a lot of dangerous or traumatic events in their lives which caused them to be able to respond to other people's situations with a much more steadfast approach.

Most of the 8H Mars people I've met had a weird relationship with their sexuality in their teenage/young adult years and lost their virginity at a later age compared to their peers. People may objectify 8H Mars folks or perceive them to be more sexual than they are (ex. being told that the 8H Mars person looks like they have a lot of experience with sex even if they don't) because these people commonly ooze sex appeal. Something about them makes people feel incredibly drawn and magnetized to them. I knew someone with an 8H Mars who was a stripper and did sex work. She also had a sugar daddy which I would associate to be an 8H topic (shared/gained resources from another, Mars covering sex). I too have considered doing sex work for quite a while now. 8H mars people may like more rougher and primal sex such as BDSM. The bedroom is where the more darker parts of themselves are revealed. They may also enjoy exploring different kinds of kinks rather than having plain or vanilla sex. Despite people thinking 8H Mars folks are sexually progressive all the way, these people actually need to have an emotional/spiritual connection to those they engage sexually with, otherwise they will feel like something is missing during sex and that the void they're seeking to be filled cannot be reached. Unfortunately, I have also known many 8H Mars people who have faced a form of sexual victimization.

In the next 2 parts, we'll cover certain transformations these people may undergo in their lives, mental health and psychology, life and death situations, struggles within intimate relationships, and "taboo" topics these people might enjoy. If you have an 8H Mars let me know if this resonates :))

[just-jordie-things]

cherry blossom - inumaki toge

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 9.3k warnings: shibuya mentions, toge says some words bc i'm not god ok, drinking summary: you've always had all the time in the world to figure out what you were to each other. falling in love is meant to be slow and sweet, after all. more info: friends to lovers, fluff without plot really (yeah i'm making that a thing)

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ what you don’t tell no one, you can tell me // little ghost, tall, tan like milk and honey // you’re very brave, and very free ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Inumaki Toge was very close with all of his friends.  He cherished them in ways he could only dream of vocalizing.  Instead, with his cursed speech, he was limited to smaller forms of appreciation to show them how he cared.  Remembering Yuuta’s favorite drink, punching Maki on the shoulder to tell her she did a great job, passing notes with Panda to pull off a silly prank- his love language was an odd one for sure, but it never went unnoticed.  His friends cared for him just as much.

(y/n) was different, though.

It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one- even without the ability to voice it, it would have been useless to try.  There was no denying the way that he treated her, the way he looked at her, it was unlike all the others.  If she was speaking, his attention was on her, even in a crowded room, even if someone was talking over her, Toge listened to every word, actively engaged in whatever the topic was.

He always sat next to her, always picked her as a training partner, always reached out to her first when making a plan, she lived on the front of his mind rent free, and Toge was more than content to let her.

“Funny, or sad?” She asks him now, drawing him out of his dreamy thoughts and bringing him back to reality.  She’s perched at the end of his bed, two dvd cases in either hand presented to him.  His gaze shifts between the two as he mulls it over.

If he chooses funny, then he’ll get to hear her giggles for the next two hours, followed by her pretty voice repeating all her favorite lines to send her into fits of laughter again.  He likes that option.

But the other movie in her hand is a favorite of hers.  He wouldn’t describe it as sad as she had, but the uplifting message did tug at the heartstrings, and he’s caught her crying over it multiple times in the few years he’s known her.  So he gestures to that one, reveling in the way she lights up before she’s getting off the bed in order to get his dvd player setup.  

It was actually her dvd player, Toge was more of a Netflix guy, but with her collection of movies and the frequency at which she hauled it all over to his room, they’d silently decided to just leave it in his room.  Sure, it might have been easier for them to have movie nights in her room where she didn’t have to unplug the Xbox every time to watch a movie, but Toge would never suggest such a thing, and she’s never brought it up either.  He likes having some of her things in his room.  

For a little while, it could help him feel like they were living a more domestic, normalized life.  Sometimes, he would set up her movies from that week on his shelf in alphabetical order, or fold up the blanket she’d left behind, and he could pretend that things were… different.

“I’ll have to add a box of tissues to the pile” She says, eyeing the plastic bag of snacks that the two of them had just gone out for.  

It was routine at this point, rush out to the convenience store, buy more snacks than they agreed on, and then rush back to campus to get the movie started before it was too late.  These were his favorite days.

With her back turned as she got the dvd player plugged in, Toge clicked his tongue to get her attention.  She glances back at him right away, her curious look blooming into a full, beautiful smile as he raises a little plastic package of tissues, wiggling it in the air happily.

“You’re perfect!” She laughs to herself before going back to the console, placing the disk inside with an eager little dance.  

Toge thinks it’s adorable that she’s so excited to watch a movie that will make her cry.  He could be biased though- he thinks everything she does is adorable.

Once the movie starts, she’s quick to jump back onto the bed, crawling up into the space beside him, snatching up the back of treats on the way.  Toge watches her, it’s only the opening credits playing anyways, it’s not like he was missing anything yet.  (y/n) catches his eye, raising a brow as she tilts the bag towards him.

There’s not exactly a way for him to tell her that his staring was just because he liked when she didn’t tuck her hair back and it fell in that messy way it did, not because he was waiting for his turn with the snack bag.  So he gives her a lopsided smile and takes the offering.

“If you open the chips I want some” (y/n) hums, her eyes already back on the screen as the movie begins.  Toge chuckles, pulling out the green bag of sour cream and onion flavored chips, even though he’d been eyeing the package of chocolate chip cookies.

(y/n) turns to him again, this time with a mock pout on her lips.

“Are you laughing at me?”

It makes him laugh a little more, even as he’s shaking his head to convince her otherwise.  He opens the bag of chips and tilts it towards her as a peace offering.  She gladly accepts it, her frown melting back into her syrupy smile as she snatches a few chips and settles in again to watch the movie.

As expected, she’s tearing up before anything’s really happened yet.  Toge knows she’s already thinking about the real tear-jerking moments later on.  Her emotions sometimes overwhelmed her- not just when watching heartwarming movies, but with handling the everyday things that came with the life of a jujutsu sorcerer.  It was hard when one of her closest friends was sent away on long assignments overseas, it was hard when there were casualties on assignments, it was hard training every day and trying to be better, all the while doubting herself and her abilities.

There were some times that she’d come by and they wouldn’t lounge around watching movies.  Sometimes she’d visit him just to sit quietly and take in the comfort of his presence.  Toge never minded these days.  He was just relieved that there was some way he could help her feel better- although he didn’t always understand what it was that worked.  It’s not like he could talk her down from the bad feelings, all he really did was sit there, maybe hold her hand if she needed, often listening to whatever was on her mind.

“He’s the one that makes me think of you” (y/n) points to the screen when a new character pops up.  A teenager, with shaggy, jet black hair, and a perpetual frown on his face as he’s on screen.

Toge mirrors the frown, turning to (y/n) with furrowed brows as he awaited a proper explanation.  She only giggles to herself as she continues munching on her snack, not bothering to explain how a character who looks and behaves nothing like him could possibly have her making a connection between the two.

He started to wonder if it was time to change his hair again, but as the movie progressed, he began to understand.  The kid had taken a vow of silence, and hadn’t spoken a word the entire movie.  Yet somehow, his thoughts and feelings were portrayed perfectly.  As the viewer, Toge was never left wondering what was going through his head.  Admittedly, he grew attached to this character quickly, and he found his focus latching onto the plot now with fervor.

Noticing this, (y/n) smiled to herself as she tucked herself further into the pile of pillows behind her.  It always warmed her heart to see him take interest in the things she liked.  Maybe even too much.

It’s mostly quiet between them as the movie continues, they don’t like to talk too much during movies, only comments deemed important enough to share before the end, or the ask to pass the snacks.  They usually would have a discussion at the end anyways, sharing all of their thoughts and favorite parts with one another.

Soon enough the couple hours passed, the snacks were mostly deplenished, and (y/n) was half asleep, eagerly asking him how he liked the movie despite the tears in her eyes that she was still wiping away with the half-used supply of tissues.

He nods back at her, chuckling softly at the sight of her still being so teary eyed when the movie had ended ten minutes ago.  Her lip is still wobbly and even as she folds and re-folds the tissue to keep wiping away the trail of tears.

Toge maneuvers onto his side, facing her with a small smile before taking the tissue from her hands.

“Mustard leaf” He says quietly, before reaching back out and drying up the trail of tears that she’d missed, down her cheek, and then along her jaw.  She sniffles between a watery giggle.

“Thank you,” Her voice cracks, and she laughs quietly again.  “That movie is just too much sometimes,” She explains, and Toge hums in understanding.  This wasn’t nearly as bad when they watched Wall-E.  “But I love it, what did you think?” 

“Salmon roe” He replies with a larger beam, which she mirrors right away, before her head feels a little heavier on his pillow.

“Okay, good,” She murmurs before a yawn overtakes her, and Toge’s eyes widen in realization when she tucks the blanket over her shoulders.  She’s going to fall asleep.  He starts to move to shake her awake, one hand curling around her shoulder and tugging slightly, but she doesn’t respond to his silent pleas telling her to get up.  “I’m really glad you liked it, you can pick the movie next time though” 

Toge huffs when she shuts her eyes and nuzzles into the pillow again.  It’s no use.  She’s already drifting off right in front of him.

“Bonito flakes” He mutters.

“It’s alright,” (y/n) yawns again.  “Just wake me up in, like, twenty minutes and I’ll go back to my room so we don’t get in trouble” 

Toge already knows how that’s going to go, but she’s out like a light mere seconds later.  He hasn’t seen anyone fall asleep so quickly.

With another sigh, he turns off the tv and places the remainder of the tissue package on his nightstand along with the remote.  It doesn’t take him long to fall asleep on his back beside her, even when his brain is working overtime trying not to hyperfixate on her leg pressed against his, or her soft breaths fanning over his shoulder as she sleeps.

His dreams are pleasant, with soft swirls of warm colors, sweet sensations of gentle touches and the lingering scent of cherries and vanilla, melodious giggles and whispers made of but sugar coated words.  The kind of dreams that you wake up from and wish there were just a few more minutes to latch onto the remnants of the hazy feeling.

As expected, (y/n’s) still there when he wakes up the following morning- not that he’d tried all too hard to send her back to her own room last night.  He just couldn’t bear to disrupt her peaceful sleep beyond a few whispers of her name and pokes to her forehead.

She’s awake not long after him, but she settles back into the covers, murmuring a raspy good morning to him.  SHe doesn’t seem startled by the surprise sleepover in the slightest, and the nerves Toge had let fester the last ten minutes of sitting awake and waiting for her to wake up.

There were still a few minutes of her being in and out of sleep, but after a while she’s stretching and getting herself out of bed with the promise of grabbing them both pop tarts before they had  to start training for the day.

Toge perks up at the prospect of pop tarts, and she giggles at his obvious change in demeanor, before telling him she’ll be quick, and taking off from his room.

He knows he should be rushing around to get ready for the day, but he can’t  bring himself to get up from the bed just yet.  It’s too warm, too comfortable, too alluring with the lingering scent of cherry vanilla still clinging to the sheets.

His heart feels full as he settles back in for just a few more minutes.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

(y/n) felt love for all of her friends.  She always sort of had, it developed not long after meeting each and every one of them.  She loved Maki’s ambition, Panda’s humor, Yuuta’s passion, each and every one of them were simultaneously the greatest person she’s ever known.  Her friends were her livelihood, her reason for fighting, her reason for trying, she doesn’t think she’d ever be able to repay them for what they’ve done for her.  The love she held for them was the purest kind there was.

The love she held for Inumaki Toge was different, though.

She loved Toge the way she loved late spring, with the way the pretty pink cherry blossoms begin to bloom, and the cool breeze turns warm, and suddenly everything doesn’t seem so gloomy and bitter all the time.  The sun seems to shine a little brighter and everyone seems to feel a little brighter, too.  It was exactly how loving Toge felt.

It was no secret to the others- if it had been, it would’ve been a terribly kept one, seeing as she could barely unglue herself from his side at any time.  If he entered a room, she would rush towards him.  If he came back from an assignment with an injury- no matter if it was life threatening or just a paper thin slice, she was patching him up with the utmost care Shoko’s infirmary could offer.  If Toge wasn’t around, she was texting him everything that was going on to keep him in touch.

There was nothing that brought her peace and joy quite like being around Toge.

She giggles as she tips her cup against her lips, sipping at the remnants of the drink she’d made only fifteen minutes ago.  Yuuta was sure to scold her when she wandered her way into the kitchen for the third time in an hour.

Toge’s laughter follows shortly after hers, although he’s not sure what exactly they’re giggling about, he just can’t help himself once she gets going.

His brows pinch together when he shakes his head, trying to ask her what it is that made her giggle fit erupt in the first place.  Once she’s calmed down enough to realize this, she grabs him by the shoulder.

At first his expression morphs into surprise, his eyes wide as he stares at her closely, before she’s swiveling him suddenly, guiding his eyes to the sight that was cracking her up.

Panda was in the common room, clearly feeling himself as he danced about, all slow twirls and raised arms.  He looks positively ethereal- in that loaded sort of way.

He’s quick to pull out his phone, setting his cup down to use both hands to steady the camera on Panda’s drunken ballet- or, attempt at ballet.  (y/n’s) giggling from beside him would definitely be caught in the video later, but neither of them minded, it only added to the humor of it all.

Maki must’ve noticed what they were up to, as she sneakily made her way over to the pill-shaped speaker, where she turned the volume up a few more notches.  This only excited Panda, who picked up the pace in his dancing.  (y/n) has to smack a hand over her mouth to stifle the cackle that erupts from her throat, but Toge doesn’t match her haste, and his laughter is almost louder than the music itself.

With a gentle smack to his shoulder, (y/n) shoots him a warning look, silently telling him to quiet down before Panda notices their recording.

Of course, Panda’s already noticed, his paws on his hips as he gawks at his so-called friends who were just making fun of him with their less than subtle camera pointed in his direction.

“Laugh it up, at least I’m having fun!” He points an accusatory finger at the two before turning his chin up with a dramatic flair.  Toge rolls his eyes, and just as he’s about to end the video, (y/n’s) face pops up on the camera.

“He’s right!” She says, a bit too loudly for standing right in front of him, but drinking always raised her volume.  She’s setting her cup down then, before reaching her free hand out to Toge, tugging on his wrist and disrupting the video that was still being recorded.  “We should dance!” 

“Mustard leaf!?” He replies, and she laughs, knowing it was his way of repeating ‘dance!?’ With uncertainty and surprise.

Her cheeks are pink, and he can’t make out if it’s because of the alcohol in her system, or if it was the brazen invitation of asking him to dance.  He’s not given much time to decipher it’s cause before she’s pulling harder at his wrist, and without another moment’s hesitation, Toge pockets his phone and follows her silent plea.  Distantly, he realizes she’s never had to work too hard to convince him of anything.

Maybe that was why they were all up far too late drinking together and dancing when they knew damn well that they had training bright and early tomorrow.

Panda’s cheering when (y/n’s) managed to drag Toge all the way into the common room where the music is playing the loudest.  He’s already resumed his twirling as if Fleetwood Mac is playing and not Joan Jett, but he’s enjoying himself, and no one is about to ruin his fun… again.

Toge’s never really danced before, besides the occasional sway from side to side, or a head bop.  So as soon as she starts swinging her hips and dragging his arm back and forth where she’s still got a grip on his wrist, he goes as stiff as a board.

It doesn’t take long before it dawns on her that he hasn’t been dancing, and she frowns at him, pulling at his arm to get him to come closer so she could talk to him.

“Why won’t you dance with me?” She asks, and it breaks his heart so completely that he can’t hide the way his face falls at her question.  (y/n) brightens up immediately, a string of bubbly laughter falling from her lips as she shakes her head.  “It’s not hard, just, move,” She says, shuffling her feet from side to side, her hips following in a languid motion.  “See?” 

He rolls his eyes at her, and she smacks his shoulder with her free hand, her semi-aggressive way of telling him he was making it a bigger deal than necessary, before both of her hands grab at his, and she guides him through the motions more properly.

The song that’s playing is upbeat, so she finds it easy to wave their arms together to the melody, while her hips keep the beat of the bass line.  After a few jolty movements on his part, he eventually begins to mirror, and just as she thought, he gets the hang of it and doesn’t look so awkward dancing with her.

(y/n) can’t wipe her grin off her face as she continues to move their hands about in sporadic motions, sometimes to the beat, sometimes at random.  Toge just latches his hands onto hers and lets her do whatever she pleases.

She’s never had to talk him into doing anything, he was always following her, whatever she was doing.

“See? It’s fun!” She’s the image of gleeful, twirling herself under one of his arms before prompting him to do the same.

Toge manages a few ‘salmon’s between her antics, before she starts to get more energetic with the beginning of the next song.  She claims it’s a classic 2000’s dance beat, and that it would be criminal if they didn’t dance through it, too.

Of course that turned into a third dance, then a fourth, and along with them a few more drinks.  They lose track of time, and eventually the rest of the world seems to fall away, too.  It’s a Wednesday night- well, early Thursday morning now- but all responsibilities that the day will hold is far from their minds.  It’s hard to notice that their friends have even started to wind down.  Panda had collapsed on the floor with a pile of empty water bottles surrounding him, currently chugging down another one.  Maki was scrolling through her phone nursing her own water, physically present, but too tired to engage in any more activities tonight.

And (y/n) and Toge were dancing around, jumping on their feet and twirling each other about like the night was still young and they had all the energy in the world.  Until eventually, Maki had given up on adding anything to the queue, and random songs they’d never heard of were playing, (y/n) still insisted that he stay up with her and keep dancing until they couldn’t anymore.

That was, until Maki retreated to her room for the night, and with her went the music.  (y/n) tried her best to plead with her to stay, but unfortunately Maki wasn’t as suggestable to her puppy dog eyes as Toge was.

“(y/n), listen to me closely,” Maki said in an uncharacteristically sweet voice, even going so far as to run a hand through her drunk friend’s hair.  Thinking that she was going to stay at the ‘party’- if it could still be called that- (y/n) gleamed up at her with a syrupy smile and heavy eyelids.  “Get some water, and get to bed” 

(y/n) deflated immediately.

“Makiiii~” She whined, and made another noise of dissatisfaction when she lost the physical affection, too.

“No buts!” Maki quips as she walks away with her phone and powered down speaker in hand.  “Toge, if you keep her up, then you’re dealing with the consequences tomorrow!” Maki barks at the other culprit to (y/n’s) deluded party-mode state.

“Salmon!” He hollers back, bringing his hand to his forehead in an all too serious salute.  It brings out a load of giggles from (y/n) that has Maki sending one last warning glare at the two before she finally leaves.

Yeah, she absolutely wasn’t dealing with that mess in the mornings.

“She doesn’t hate us,” (y/n) sighs out to Toge, unprovoked, but he can tell she’s completely serious by the way she stares up at him.  “She’s just grumpy she has to get up in the morning” 

Toge raises his eyebrows with slight concern, before twirling his finger around in a short circle between them.

(y/n’s) jaw drops as she gapes at him.

“I know we do too,” She argues.  “But it’ll be fine, I’m used to waking up early” 

He gives her a look, but she doesn’t relent in her stare.  So he pulls his phone out to show her the time.

2:48 A.M.

But her eyes barely register the hour, instead she’s glued to the wallpaper on his lockscreen, and she’s lighting back up with energy as she reaches for his phone and snatches it before he could react.

It was ridiculous how she maintained her speed and strength even when intoxicated.  Toge wondered if it was safe for jujutsu sorcerers to drink this heavily. 

“Is this us?” She asks, even though she was currently admiring the photo of the two of them on his lockscreen.

Toge’s quick to zip up his collar in order to hide the heat flushing his cheeks.

“This is so cute!” She delights in the image, cradling his phone in both hands as though to preserve it with great care.  

The picture isn’t even new to her, and she’d been the one to take it.  A few months ago she’d tried her hand at baking, and had been quite eager to bring a cinnamon cake to a hangout with the rest of their friends.  She might’ve promised it before she was certain of her baking abilities, and had required Toge’s help not long into the process.  As happy as he was to aid her in her new hobby, he couldn’t help but find humor in just how helpless she seemed to be in the kitchen at first.  She hardly even knew her way around the cabinets.  Hours later the cake had turned out just fine- their friends had even gone for seconds- but not without it’s difficulties.

Toge had snapped the photo when the cake had just been put into the oven, before they began the tedious cleanup process.  She had flour in her hair and some stuck to her cheek.  It was a good thing she’d chosen to wear an apron because it was covered in the various ingredients they’d used.  But despite the messy state of herself and the kitchen in the background, she was grinning from ear to ear, clearly excited to see the results of her cake soon.  Toge’s mirroring the smile, although there’s not a speck on him.  After the whole process, he’d managed to keep himself completely clean.

“I didn’t know you made this your wallpaper, that’s really sweet,” She’s handing him his phone back after the torturous few seconds are over, and Toge slips it into his pocket quickly.  His blush might’ve been hidden by the collar of his jacket, but it was still made obvious by his shifting eyes that couldn’t quite meet hers.

“That was a really fun day actually, we should bake something together again sometime!” She lights up, and he can tell that she’s already trying to think of something to go make right now.  It’s clear she’s already forgotten the time- or maybe she just didn’t care that much.  “We could-” 

“Tuna tuna” Toge gives her a look, before tapping the back of his wrist a few times, hoping to remind her of the task at hand.

It was no wonder Maki rushed off to her own dorm.

(y/n) huffed in annoyance, but ultimately followed alongside him as he tried ushering her out of the common room and towards the dorms.  She stumbled along and tried to slow him down, came up with a few more mumbled excuses to stay up later, all of which were met by quiet chuckles and reminders of ‘tuna’.

It took some ping-ponging down the halls, but eventually he got her to her room, and even though the night was over, she seemed rather pleased to be back in her own room.

“Spicy cod roe” Toge barely mumbles the words out as he’s gesturing about her room to her, before raising his hand to his mouth to mimic drinking a cup of water.

She smiles back at him in perfect understanding before she gives him a nod of her head.

Her movements are lazy as she strolls about the room to get changed into something she can sleep in.  Her coordination was less than subpar compared to her usual level of functioning, but that wouldn’t be a problem for another few hours.

It’s not long before there’s a knock on her door, and she’s opening it with the brightness of a christmas tree when Toge is on the other side with two bottles of water.

Wordlessly, she invites him in by stepping aside and pulling the door open further.  Toge passes off one of the bottles to her as he does so.

“Are you staying?” She asked, nodding to the bottle still in his hand.  “We can watch a movie?” She offers hopefully.

It’s a little past three in the morning now.  He tries to give her a look to reminder of this, but she doesn’t seem to care when she sticks her bottom lip out and folds her hands together in a pleading motion.

He sighs, and she brightens up again.  It’s almost comical how small but sweet of a smile could have him agreeing to anything.  It’s almost as if she’s the one with a cursed technique designed to compel, and not him.

While glancing through the array of dvds on her shelves, Toge wonders what things would be like if the roles had been reversed.  If he was the one able to tell her his every thought and feeling as they pass.  He wonders if she would have known how he felt about her a long, long time ago.

He’d dealt with his cursed speech in the best way that he could.  Of course he didn’t love it, of course things would be easier if he could talk like anyone else, he could gamble a good ninety percent of his life would’ve gone smoother.  No more stupid rice ball ingredients, and no more hoping that just a look would be enough to communicate to the girl he loves that he loves her.  That he purely, wholly, desperately loves her.

He picks out a dvd and pops it into her player- she’d dragged it back into her room last week after waking him up in the middle of the night because she was in the mood to watch one of her favorites.  Once the opening credit scenes start to roll, he finds that she’s already cozied up on one side of the bed, her blanket tucked to her chin, and her water bottle cradled in both of her hands.  She smiles when he turns to her, and then pats the space beside her, waiting patiently for him to sit with her.

He lets out a sigh as he sinks into the mattress beside her.  He taps his wrist twice before raising his hand and pinching his thumb and forefinger together, an easy way to gesture just for a little bit.

“Okay,” (y/n) nods, then takes the edge of her blanket to throw it over his lap too.  “Just for a little bit” Her voice is merely a hum, words slurred together just a little bit, but there’s not a flicker of uncertainty in her features when she gazes upon him.

It’s only a few minutes into the movie when she slumps against him, the entire side of her body pressed into his, from their shoulders to their legs.  Toge chuckles as she begins to give in to her exhaustion, and as sweet as it was that she got cuddly when she was drunk and sleepy, he prayed she’d pass out soon so that the morning wouldn’t be so rough.  They were well past getting a full eight hours before training tomorrow, and dealing with Gojo alone would be a burden.  Not because he would go rough on them- but because as soon as he sniffed out a little bit of a hangover, he’d be relentless with his teasing.

(And he might tack on a few extra laps on the track as minor punishment.  Normally no big deal.  But when you’re fighting off puking your guts out?) 

Toge makes a mental note to have aspirin and a heavy meal ready first thing in the mornings so she could get it all out of her system as quickly as possible.  One measly water bottle tonight just wouldn’t cut it.

When her head hits his shoulder in a soft thump, he looks down at her, checking to see if she’s finally fallen asleep.  To his surprise, she tilts her head back in order to meet his gaze.  Pink dusts over her cheeks and the corners of her mouth tilt upwards, no doubt a reaction from the alcohol in her system and their close proximity.

“You think I could get out of training with a sick day tomorrow?” She murmurs, earning a wince from Toge.  She didn’t need words to understand what that meant.  “You’re right,” She sighs, briefly turning her attention back to the movie.  “Gojo’s gonna fry me” 

This time he chuckles, and she glances back at him again.

“Mustard leaf…” 

A small giggle escapes her as well, her eyes crinkling despite knowing the fate she would face come tomorrow.

“Maybe I’ll just fess up straight away,” She thinks aloud.  “If I cry a bit, he might take pity on me, I dunno,” 

Toge struggles to hold eye contact with her, not because the movie was just so enticing he could barely pay attention to her, but quite the opposite.  With her cuddled up against his side and whispering so softly right into his ear he could hardly focus on anything other than her.  To his knowledge, the rest of the world was completely wiped away.  It was an ability she’d somehow mastered unknowingly, making him forget that there was anything else going on around them when the two of them were together.

His heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was sure she must notice, with how close she is, she could probably feel it, but if she does, she doesn’t say a thing.

“Or you could tell him I died,” She adds suddenly, and Toge snorts out a laugh, making her giggle again.  

His eyes finally hold contact with hers for longer than a passing second, and she seems to melt further against him.  She doesn’t feel heavy against his shoulder, but she might as well be an anchor keeping him trapped in place.  

Yeah, there’s not a chance he’ll only be here for a little bit.

“You’d cover for me, right?” She asks, and it’s only meant to be a tease, but Toge raises his free arm that wasn’t being leaned on by hers, and crosses his finger over his heart.  “Wow,” (y/n) gushes in her surprise, eyebrows raised and lips curling into a wider smile.  She’s so beautiful to him at this moment that he now hopes he’ll be the one to pass out before he does something stupid.  “Cross your heart and hope to die, huh?” She muses.  “That’s pretty serious” 

He scoffs again, barely rolling his eyes, but his attention is drawn back to her again when she shifts around to lay on her side.  She’s still very much cuddled up to him, and he can tell she makes an effort to stay that way as she gets comfortable in a new position.  She even hooks her ankle over his, a silent ask for him to stay longer.  Her cheek leans back into his shoulder soon enough, and he knows he should be leaving when she starts to bat her eyelashes, but even as a Grade Two sorcerer he doesn’t have the strength to do so.

“Can I ask you a real question?” 

Everyone’s least favorite question of all time.

Toge affirms with a nod of his head, barely managing a smile to assure her.

“Does it get old?” Her voice grows even softer.  “Listening to me talk all the time?” 

He shakes his head just as quickly, the smile disappearing as a knot forms between his pinched brows.  She gives him a wobbly smile, feeling a bit endeared by how quickly he tried to tell her otherwise.

“Really?” She asks, still a bit unsure.  “Sometimes I try to shut my mouth, I… I don’t want to make you feel like you’re stuck listening to me all the time, but, uh, I can’t help it sometimes.  I… really like talking to you” She’s rambling before she knows it- and then blushing at the irony of it all.

His smile returned then, stretching wide until his teeth were showing, and he was laughing quietly at her.  Not to be malicious, of course, he was simply amused and absolutely lovestruck by the sweet admission.  Toge reached out, affectionately touching the pad of his thumb to her chin, before he shifted around to get his phone out of his pocket.

This didn’t call for rice ball ingredients, or small gestures to convey what he was thinking.  He’d need to communicate properly to her with how much he’d have to say.

(y/n) watched on as he opened his notes app and began to type.

it could never get old.  i like listening to you talk :)

It makes her heart stutter in her chest, but she can’t help the giggle that escapes her when he adds a little emoji, too.  Toge spaces down to a new line before typing more.

does it get old that i can’t talk with you the same way? 

He watches as her eyes scan over the screen quickly, before she turns to him and shakes her head.

“Of course not,” She tells him right away.  “I- I think we understand each other just fine… don’t we?” 

It dawns on her that they’ve never really talked about this before.  Even when they first met, it was like she was told he had cursed speech and she took it upon herself to learn how he communicated as quickly as possible.  Perhaps all that time she spent around him those first few months after her enrollment were what led to their closeness now.  Saying she was headstrong in being able to understand him would have been an understatement.  She had constantly been picking up on the subtleties between his rice ball ingredients, or paying attention to every hand movement or direction of his gaze to know what he was talking about.  

And it was a very, very rare case when she couldn’t understand him.  Toge could hardly recall a time it had happened.

He sets his phone down on his lap, nodding his head back at her as his eyes shifted between hers.  Her lashes hung heavy, eyelids almost falling shut with every blink, but she wasn’t giving into sleep just yet.

She mirrors his nod with a short one of her own, her eyes filled with an emotion he can’t say he’s ever seen in her before.  He studies it curiously, forgetting any sense of embarrassment from staring at her so blatantly… but then again, she wasn’t exactly shying away either.  Was it the alcohol?

“Toge,” His name falls from her lips in a mere breath, so small her mouth hardly moves, so quiet it almost doesn’t grace his ears.  “I… I hope you know you can tell me anything… anytime…” 

It’s such a sweet admission that he can’t help but reach out to her again, his thumb touching her chin in the way he usually does when he’s teasing her, but now it feels… different.  His touch lingers, and the look in his eyes feels heavier than she’s used to.  She’s flustering suddenly, her heartbeat picking up in pace, her face feeling even hotter the longer she holds his stare.  After another prolonged minute of his touch to her face, she finds herself reaching up for his hand, cupping the back of it and holding it there for just a few moments longer.

And then comes a delicate, carefully worded whisper on his part.

“I know” 

He pauses for a few seconds after he says it, just to be sure there were no lasting effects left on her.  Just as he expected, those words didn’t seem to hold any cursed energy, and she didn’t seem paralyzed or compelled in the slightest.  She simply smiles back at him, her eyelashes batting a few more times.

“Okay, good,” She murmurs, before tucking herself closer to him, nuzzling her head into his chest to get comfortable.  

She’s long forgotten the movie that was playing, and honestly, so had he.  Toge knows now it’s only a matter of minutes before she’s finally knocked out.  With a yawn, she finally drops her hand from his, but Toge opts to leave it in it’s place, carefully cradled under her jaw, his thumb swiping over her cheekbone in slow and lazy movements.

“Just stay the night, ‘kay?” She mumbles into his shirt, throwing her free arm over his waist.  “If someone notices, I’ll take the blame,” She says, and then quickly adds, “But no one will” 

His chest vibrates beneath her when he chuckles, and she merely smiled to herself as sleep finally overcomes her.

Toge hesitates on moving to turn off the tv.  Any one wrong move and he’d risk waking her, and he certainly didn’t want to do that.  So with drawn out movements, he carefully gets the tv turned off, and places the remote on the nightstand.

(y/n) doesn’t wake up, to his luck, she doesn’t even stir.  She’s sound asleep, dead weight like a rock on top of him.  But a welcome rock she was.

He didn’t even mind having to sleep in a half seated position, or the fact that the arm she’s laying on is starting to prickle with pins and needles.  None of it matters when he can faintly feel her heart beating against his chest, right beside his.

Toge only got a hair of sleep that night, but even during the rough training session the following morning, all he could think about was how soft her hair felt when he’d run his hand through it.

If what came after falling in love was a crash landing, he was definitely nearing the ground.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When he first comes to, all Toge can barely make out is the dim light above him.  His mind is hazy, a swarm of disconnected thoughts like ‘where am I?’ and ‘why are the lights so dim in Shoko’s infirmary?’.  Nothing really makes sense until the haze begins to clear.

The next sense to come back was his hearing, and he wished it had taken a little longer because it wasn’t pleasant.

At first it’s just a sharp ringing, distant at first, like someone blowing a whistle far away from here.  But it didn’t take long for it to grow nearer and nearer, until eventually it was right in front of him, breaking through to let him take in the other sounds around him.

Whimpering.  Soft weeping, maybe.  Quiet, like the owner of the quiet cries, was trying not to wake him.

Then it was sniffling, also quiet and contained.  So faint he could just barely make it out, but paired with the cries, it wasn’t hard to understand what was going on.

He has to squeeze his eyes shut after the short exposure to the yellow light, but soon enough he’s forcing them open again.  This time he’s greeted with the blurry silhouette of the crier.

“(y/n)-” 

It’s no surprise his throat is so dry and raw that he feels blood pool on his tongue as soon as he rasps out her name, but it was enough to capture her attention, so he tries to ignore the pain for now.

A hushed “Ohmygod” is whispered under her breath so fast her lips barely move, before she’s a blurry mess of movements above him.  His eyes can’t track everything, but he thinks her hands are shaking around his face from the tapping over her fingertips on his cheeks.  “You’re- you’re awake?” She mumbles out, a hint of a whimper still trembling in her voice.

Just as he parts his lips to give her an affirmative response, her eyes widen, and her fingertips press further into his cheeks until he can feel the full length of her fingers against his skin.  They’re still shaking, but her touch is warm.

“Wait, don’t say anything, I’m sure your throat’s a mess right now,” Even when she’s not sniffling over her words, they’re watery, just a little bit stuck in her throat.  “But you’re- you’re awake,” She repeats, a smile briefly stretching on her lips, before it quickly falls back into that wobbly frown.  His vision begins to focus when he settles it there, hoping it’ll disappear into another smile again.

Why was she such a wreck? She’d never cried over him before, and he’s been injured plenty of times, Toge couldn’t wrap his mind around it.  It was making it harder to fight past the hazy state of waking up.  

There were small, wet splashes against his face that startled him enough to change his focus, eyes suddenly moving his line of sight upwards, finding her eyes were in fact full of tears, and most of them were streaming down her face.  He can’t say or do much, but concern is evident on his face.

“Are you in pain? Does anything hurt?” She wipes uselessly at the tears on her face when she speaks.  The dry patches were just as quickly replaced by more streaks of tears.

Toge shakes his head, although it’s not a complete truth.  His head is still spinning, the metallic taste of blood was burning the scratches in his throat, but most peculiar was the dull ache of his left arm.  It wasn’t a sharp pain, or even enough to bring a tear to his eye, and yet the throbbing of it captured all of his attention.  He couldn’t not think about it.  Was it broken? Why hadn’t Shoko healed it? It never feels like this after her Reverse Cursed Technique…

“Okay,” (y/n) whimpers, sniffling before she speaks again.  “Okay, that- that’s good, that’s good…” Her voice grows quiet, and Toge’s shaking his head at her again, trying to voice his confusion with this whole ordeal, trying to ask her what was wrong.

All he can do is twitch his right hand until she notices, and as soon as she turns her head, she picks his hand up in both of hers.  She’s swift but gentle, cradling it as if his bones would shatter from a movement too rough.  He tries to curl his fingers around hers, but it takes too much effort, so he goes to bring his other hand around hers as well.

A strained gasp escapes him when he lifts his left arm, his eyes shooting open from the pain and difficulty of the action, neck swiveling to see what was so wrong that he couldn’t do something so simple as to hold her hand and comfort her.

They’re both frozen when he finally looks at his left arm.  Or, lack thereof.

(y/n’s) crying seems to cease completely as she holds her breath, and Toge’s chest is moving rapidly, but his inhales and exhales are nearly silent.

When he looks up at her again, she brings a hand to her mouth, stifling the sob that shakes her entire body as she begins to cry again, just as hard as she had when she’d found him.

“I’m- I’m sorry,” Is what she says first, it’s all that really comes to mind at first, she doesn’t know where to begin, how she’s supposed to explain it to him, what the gentle way of proceeding was.

She almost wished someone was here now, but there wasn’t.  There was no one.  Everyone was either missing, or had died in the aftermath, there was only the two of them.  The world had shrunk down to leave just the two of them it seemed- and they weren’t allowed their peace.

“Shibuya- it’s- when I found you-” She tries, she really does, but so many words flood her mind at once that they get lodged in her throat, and she’s never really learned how to navigate this sort of thing before.  This was always Gojo’s job, or Nanami’s…

With a deep breath, (y/n) straightens her posture as she’s kneeled beside Toge on the ground, and she gives his hand a small squeeze.

“Without a Reversed Curse Technique, I did the best that I could,” She says, a little bit more clearly, but not without a few hiccups.  “The runes on the wrappings should keep it from getting infected, at the very least,” 

Toge looks back at his left side again, taking in a long, good look at the missing space where the rest of his arm used to be.  Then his gaze shifts upwards, where what’s left of his bicep is wrapped in perfect bindings.  It appears every inch of the gauze is covered in neatly drawn runes.

How long had this taken her? How long had he been out? 

“It’s been a couple of days,” She sighs, pushing a hand through her hair and slouching again.  “It’s not… great, as you can see,” She adds, gesturing around them.

It’s only then that Toge’s really taken in their surroundings.  They’re in a tent, that’s just big enough for the two of them.  The shitty light his eyes had adjusted to was just a lantern tied around the center post.

“But it’s worked for now… I’ve been out a few times, there’s water, um, some food…” She trails off as she’s glancing around, already losing pace and barely keeping up with what she’s saying.  What was she supposed to say? “I… I haven’t crossed paths with anyone else yet” 

Toge’s hand twitches in hers, fingers flexing for a moment before he pulls it out of her hold.  It’s slow and shaky when he brings his hand to her face, but he is able to make the reach.  She leans closer to him so he wouldn’t have to stretch too much.  Toge presses the entirety of his palm into her cheek, fingertips prodding at her hairline, thumb tracing against her cheekbone.

That wobbly smile returns when she presses her palm against the back of his hand.  She’s still crying, but it seems a little more under control.  He wonders if she’s even aware of the never ending tears, or if she’s grown used to it.

“Thank you” 

A watery scoff of a laugh escapes her, and then she shakes her head at him.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” She mumbles, and his thumb begins to drag lower, across the hollow of her cheek, coming to the corner of her mouth.

He nods his head to make his argument, a furrow in his brows that tells her he’s serious, but she doesn’t seem to take him as such.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” She sniffles.  “There’s barely any food, I’ve been in this ruined uniform for days, all of our friends are missing and the strongest sorcerer in the world is in the prison realm, you’re hurt, and it very well may be the end of the world-” 

He has to drop his hand from her face in order to have the strength to push himself into a sitting position, but once he does he’s just as quick to bring it back.

She’s crying too much to keep adding to her list of everything that’s gone wrong in the last few days, but this time Toge tries to wipe the tears away as he shushes her softly.  It takes a few minutes, but eventually the tears come to a stop, and Toge drops his hand again.

This time he makes a gesture to her.  It’s drawn out, despite it being a simple one.  He points his finger out, touching it to her collarbone, then his eyes meet hers again, and they’re tearing up again.  He frowns.  Then taps her shirt a few more times, trying to make his point clearer.

You’re still here.

He can only hope that more taps will make sense to her.

The corner of (y/n’s) lips tilt upwards, and he thinks with the amount of emotions flickering behind her eyes, that understanding is amongst them.

“I’m glad you’re here… with me,” She mumbles out.  “I don’t know what I would’ve done….” The thought trails off with her words, and she turns her head away, chewing on the inside of her cheek.  The exhale she lets out instead is slow, and shaky.

Toge lifts his hand to turn her chin back towards him, a frown on his face as his eyes meet hers.

Again, he points at her, but this time he presses the pad of his finger square against her chin, and then turns it towards himself, mirroring the touch to his own chin.  A crease forms between her brows, and he repeats it- tapping her chin twice with a featherlight touch, and then his own.

We’re both still here.

Weakly, another smile graced her lips.  She understood.

“Whatever is next, we take on together… yeah?” She asks him, her voice hushed, a certain anxiety filling her chest with a crawling feeling, but Toge’s response couldn’t have eased it away faster.

He nods, leaning in closer, bringing his hand back to her cheek so he could tilt her head downward just the slightest, enough for him to brush his lips over her forehead in a light kiss.  So light if she wasn’t staring at him with wide eyes, she might’ve missed it altogether.

Like a deer caught in headlights, she holds her stare even once Toge’s pulled away.  Her parted lips holding no definitive emotion, he’s not exactly sure what she’s thinking when she stares at him like that, but he doesn’t feel any regret from the action.  They were all they had now, and there might not be any amount of comfort to delude them into thinking things were going to turn out perfectly fine, but they could certainly try.  Perhaps they could go just a few minutes at a time feeling some relief.

They weren’t alone.  And despite it all, they were alive.  At this moment anyways, Toge couldn’t ask for more.

With the backs of her hands, (y/n) roughly wipes away the lingering tears on her face, before she reaches out to him.  Just as her hands cradle around his face, he’s meeting her halfway, eyes shut before their lips even touch.

As hasty as it is, it’s a tender kiss.  Neither one of them wanted to move too fast at the risk of bumping an injury, but the years of pent up emotions came pouring out of it nonetheless.  Her calloused and bruised hands somehow feel silky smooth when they glide over his jaw.  Any fears or pains melt away under the gift of her soft kiss.  Toge could almost forget all of it, just for that moment.

When she pulls away, quietly panting to catch her breath after holding it the entirety of the kiss, the unreadable look on her face fades away into something else.  Bittersweet relief.

Her eyes shift between his, finding the same emotion in them that she’s currently feeling.  Affectionately, her thumbs trace over the markings on either side of his mouth.  There’s a moment of silence between them as they bask in the first pleasant moment they’d had in a while.  It’s no surprise that it’s only come when they’re together.

“We’ll find the others,” (y/n) murmurs assuredly after a minute.  “We’ll figure it out,” And as she says it, she starts to believe it, slowly but surely she pulls herself out of her cynicism, hope and certainty replacing it when she looks at him.  “Together” 

His own hand slides across her cheek and wraps comfortably at the nape of her neck, holding her delicately but closely.  Toge nods, smiling back at her with as much conviction as he could.

“Together” 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ it’s a cruel, cruel world, but we don’t care // cause what we’ve got, we’ve got to share ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie a/n: for anyone who got the little miss sunshine edit mwah mwah mwah bc it's a comfort movie of mine &lt;3

[radiant-reid]

any fic recommendations ?? love ur blog ❤️

after the events of yesterday, i'd love the chance to spread some CM love. i tried to do fics rather than masterlists but most of these writers have their masterlist linked or in their bio. i'm missing a hundred people so send me a message if there's fics you want me to add PLEASE READ EACH WRITER'S WARNINGS/RULES. *denotes smut fics

spencer reid

Milburn Seven Months by @aperrywilliams

Here + Velvet by @wtfevenismypage

all signs point to yes the break-up box two’s a crowd, three’s a party *by @wheelsup

what happens in California* by @spencersawkward

Stumbling Home…Alone ….to end up with you (all well that ends well happy ending version) Secret Life by @reidsbookclub

Babies and New Beginnings In The Middle Of The Night * by @samuel-de-champagne-problems

Mirror* by @sinfulspencer

THE BOY’S A SLAG* GODPARENTS* + GODPARENTS II by @eideticmemory

Oh Baby! by @fortheloveofwonderland

Not Your Backup by @imagining-in-the-margins

Clean + Clean, PT. 2 by @ofwilliamandwalter

spencer reid sfw alphabet by @candlesandsoftrain

Is a Home still a Home? * Only her * by @little-diable

A Real Father's Love Drunk on You Room 405 by @smurphyse

I Would Never Fall + Unless It’s You I Fall Into by @reidscanehand

“i want to love someone and be loved” / part 2 how to ask a girl out by @spacedikut

eros & thanatos by @reidamancy

Through the Smoke by @homoose

Goodbye Forever, Until Next Time by @mercy-burning

night shift by @behindyourbarrette

loving you was red collection by @writer-in-theory

36 Questions to Fall in Love by @boldlyvoid

flick, flick, burn this vast empty space, picture perfect by @literaila

aaron 'hotch' hotchner

Fluffy Feb event masterlist by @hotchs-bitch masterlist by @doctorstethoscope masterlist by @honeybrowne

Yes, Mr President * Wonderstruck by @doctorstethoscope

In the Suburbs * by @hoe4hotchner

Ivy * enemies to lovers blurb by @greg-montgomery

On the Road Again * The Stranger Next Door * Wish You Were Here + Back to You Meet The Hotchners by @ssahotchswife

Come Back Home by @hotched

As Long as You Want Me by @spacecowboyhotch

"Agent" by @kryptonitejelly

Wasteland, Baby by @heliotropehotch

Big Dick Energy * by @maybege

Good For Him Reckless (21.7k words, go read rn) by @ptersparkers

Never Do That Again * by @fatecantstopme

delicate by @bbq-chipz

hard-headed painfully professional another man's jeans * by @honeypiehotchner

When one door closes, try to take the girl home by @azenpal

like real people do + i'll crawl home to you (you'll cry your eyes out, be warned) by @ssahotchhner

New Mom by @marvelslut16

My Love I Can't Hide + I Wanna Hold Your Hand by @reidscanehead

Rossi's Neighbour by @capturedminds

The 30th * Truth or Dare * by @little-diable

Surprise Visit * by @wheelsupkels

I Love You More* by @ssamorganhotchner

Perfect for Me Marry Me? Baby Drunk by @hotch-stufff

Aaron, I’m Pregnant by @ssahotchsbitch

[beatleskinkmeme]

Hello Beatle People!

To spread some crimble cheer, The Beatles Kink Meme is hosting the third annual Beatles Secret Santa Fanworks Exchange! Create (& receive!) a piece of fanwork: fanfic, fanart, fanvideo, or gif set!

Sign up! (Will close on October 30): give your contact info and other details about what type of gift you want to give and receive. 

Once you receive your assignment, create a gift that matches your giftee’s preferences. Remember to keep it a secret until the posting. But you can send anonymous messages to ask questions or just to wish your giftee a happy crimble! 

Have your gift completed by December 24-Jan 1 and during that time deliver your gift! You can post it to your tumblr and/or AO3 or submit it to the Beatles Kink meme. Be sure to tag your recipients.

The ao3 collection can be found here and anything posted early will not be revealed until the gift giving period.

tag your posts #beatles secret santa 2024 and tag beatleskinkmeme so we can reblog all gifts

Rules & Guidelines: 

You must have a tumblr to sign up as that will be how your assignment will be shared. Messaging and anon should be turned on to receive your info and so your gift creator can contact you! 

You don’t need to have an ao3 account but we added a question regarding this because some people have different tumblr names from ao3

You can also share your discord name especially if you're in the discord server and/or if you'd like to provide another way of contact for us

Be sure to mark all the types of gifts you would be open to receiving! 

All fanfics should have a minimum of 500 words and all gifts should be completed. No WIPs.

This is being sponsored by the good ol’ kink meme after all, so NSFW is allowed, but only if your recipient says they would like that in their gift. 

All requests do not have to be included in the gift, but just can be used as general guidelines. If you need more info from your giftee then feel free to send them an anon ask or send a message to this blog and we can reach out to your giftee to get the information! 

If for any reason you have to drop out, it’s okay! But please contact us as soon as possible so we can make sure everyone still receives a gift!

When you receive your gift, please leave a comment to thank your santa

Anyone who violated any of these rules in the previous two years or signed up and never created a gift will not be allowed to participate

Please respond to all messages within a week of receiving, even just to say, got it! We are trying to alleviate people signing up and ghosting. If there is no response, you will be removed from the event.

If you’d like a beta, please reach out to us and we may be able to help. You can also join the discord server if you have any questions or other advice. please DM beatleskinkmeme for a link 

Important Dates:

By November 6: All pairings will be assigned and information sent out via tumblr DM (you will receive a message from either @beatleskinkmeme, my main account @theoldmixer or from @dumbcloud who is my assistant elf!)

Around December 4th: We will contact you again to check in how things are going.

December 24-Jan 1: Gifts are delivered 

Feel free to submit an ask or dm beatleskinkmeme if you have any other questions!

[clockwayswrites]

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 9

WC: 1431, Masterpost CW: blood, cannon typical violence, off screen civilian and first responder deaths, mentions of death

Danny and his Flash were both very busy people, there was no denying that. The good thing was that the worst of their busyness were the same events. Sure, they both had obligations outside of that. Danny had all of the other work with the outreach and now overseeing and even training other team members. Flash… well, Flash had whatever he did with the rest of his life. Danny assumed he worked, even if it was for the Justice League.

It was a little odd not knowing Flash past the mask. Danny understood, of course he did. A secret identity was important and, despite having been on several dates now, they still were getting to know each other. It wasn’t as if Danny didn’t know anything about his Flash. He knew Flash always comforted the kids first, was fiercely loyal, and couldn’t resist petting a dog. He knew Flash loved trying new foods, played video games with friends that Flash wished he saw more, and really did enjoy spoiling him. He knew a lot.

He just didn’t know Flash’s name or what family Flash had or if those freckles ran all the way across Flash’s nose.

Danny would be patient though, because he understood. It helped that he at least had Flash’s number. He didn’t know if it was a burner phone or an app or routed through a number of proxies; he hadn’t asked. The first thing Danny had done, in fact, was to send a Flash meme. It had gotten him shoved, but that had turned into a make out session on the couch, so Danny certainly wasn’t complaining.

And if Danny now kept a collection of gifs, memes, and other silly Flash things on hand to send? Well, who could blame him.

He rolled over to grab his phone from the coffee table and sent off another picture of a cat dressed up in Flash’s outfit. The amount of people dressing pets up as superheros was honestly shocking. He didn’t expect an answer right then, looking at the time, but he found it was… nice to be able to find things to send to Flash for him to find and respond to later. It made him feel connected to someone in a way that he hadn’t had in years.

Danny recognized, now, that he had been really hurting himself trying to stay so separate from everyone. One way or another, this is how things would be for the rest of his life. He couldn’t keep morning what had happened, what he had lost. Besides, he was just a civilian now, he wasn’t a danger to his friends and family anymore. So, along with Flash, Danny had started actually accepting the occasional invitation from some of his coworkers. He had even found a game store to go to and play at on the weekends.

It was harder than he thought, putting himself out there again, but his life was brighter for being around people outside of work every week or so. He had Flash to thank for that.

He also had Flash to thank for getting him addicted to the Percy Jackson books. He could personally do with less lightning, but the story had a real way of resonating with the halfa. Danny was three books in at this point and needed to know how it all finished up.

A few chapters further in a notification interrupted him.

Quick Boy: It’s not fair that a cat wears my uniform better than me!!

Danny laughed and tapped the message.

Danny: The cat is pretty cute. But I still think you wear it best. You have a better butt. 😏

The little dots wiggled as Flash typed. It was endlessly amusing to Danny that despite being, literally, super fast, Flash was slowed down by the physics of the world around him, like how fast a phone could accept input.

Quick Boy: 😳🫣🥵 Danny! Have you been checking out my butt?

Despite himself, Danny felt a blush heating up his cheeks. They hadn’t gotten any further than kissing, it didn’t feel right to go further when Danny didn’t know who Flash was, but that didn't mean Danny couldn't tease.

Danny: You run around in spandex, I can’t NOT check out your butt. Have to say, it’s a pretty good one. 10/10, would ogle again.

Quick Boy: How do you feel about ogling it in my most flattering sweatpants? Got a hold of that Japanese giant bug movie you were ranting about. I can grab food and be over to your place in about an hour?

Danny: Stop calling it that!!!You know the title! 😤

Quick Boy: I’m not typing out that title.

Danny grinned as he rolled off of the couch. If Flash was coming over, he should at least pick up a little. Danny knew Flash didn’t really care, but the pile of laundry that Danny had been avoiding folding was a bit much.

Danny: Thought you were supposed to be fast.

Quick Boy: 😒

Danny: Come on, quick boy, take the nanosecond and type it.

Quick Boy: I hate you.

Danny: No you don't~

(Danny sung along as he typed.)

Quick Boy: “Help I’ve Been Made a Holy Knight in a World of Giant Bugs and Need to Save the Prince”

Danny: Knew you could do it! Proud of you. 😘 See you in an hour! Bring Thai and ice cream!

Danny was just putting away the folded stack of laundry when an alarm on his phone screamed at him.

It was work.

Emergency alert.

All hands on deck.

Danny dashed for his door, shoving his feet in his work boots and grabbing the backup vest he kept at home. Someone would drive the trucks full of kits there, but Danny still took his little kit with him, just in case he ran into any wounded on the way.

So much for dinner and cuddling his boyfriend.

As soon as he stepped out onto the street, Danny could hear the sound of sirens and the acrid smell of smoke stung his eyes. Danny’s heart sank.

Whatever this was, it was big.

-

“Danny.”

Danny flexed his hands. Flakes of dried blood broke off and scattered in the wind.

“Danny, babe.”

He would need more gloves for his kit. Was he out? He had to be out. He changed gloves so many times. There were so many people. He had to be out of gloves. He would need more for his kit.

Other hands entered his vision, covered in bright red. Not blood red, bright red. Blood red was mostly darker than people thought. Bright blood was worse. He watched as the hands gently rolled down the gloves.

He needed more gloves.

“Not for today, babe. You’re done for today.”

He needed more gloves, there were so many people.

“Everyone is accounted for. You and the others got everyone.”

Not everyone.

How many people died under his hands today?

Were already dead when he found them?

Wouldn’t last the night?

How many people did he fail?

Too many.

“Danny.” The voice was worried now. “Come on babe, look at me, please?”

Blood had gotten under his gloves, staining his wrists.

“Babe, please.”

Warm, fabric covered hands rested on Danny’s cheeks, tilting his gaze up and away from his hands.

Oh. “Flash?”

“Hey there, babe, you with me?”

Why did he look so worried?

“Because you’re scaring me a little. I think you’re in shock.”

Oh.

“Do you have a shock blanket in your kit still?”

“No… used them all. Had to cover…”

How many people did he fail?

“Okay, that’s okay. I’m going to take you home, okay babe? Well, not my home, but where I used to live— right, that doesn’t matter now. We’re going to go and I’ll keep you safe.”

Danny motioned to a cluster of officials. “I have to—”

“I’ve already checked you out.”

“My team?”

Flash glanced down and away.

“Flash, my team?”

“They’re…. all accounted for. Larson…. He got caught in part of the building coming down. He didn’t make it. Patel was paired with him. She’s at the hospital, they think she’ll pull through.”

Danny tried to say something, but the words caught in his throat. He wanted to scream, to rage, to wail— it all caught up in his throat because he couldn’t. He let out a soundless sob.

Flash pulled Danny into his arms, holding him close. “I know. I know. I’m taking you home. You’ll be okay Danny. It will be okay.”

The colors of the world blurred together as Flash ran, but Danny hardly noticed.

-----

AN: So this has been 95% written since before I got sick, but just now was the first time I could get my brain to deal with it. A darker part of the story, I know, but it felt needed. Danny's doing a very, very hard job and one made all the worse because Danny used to be able to do more and now he can't. (Though I have no doubt he pushed use of his powers further than was really safe in this.)

Stay safe and delightful, my darlings!

I no longer tag people for several reasons, you can subscribe to the masterpost instead to be notified! (May notify this part slightly later, I am queuing it.)

[gatheredfates]

Hi! My name is Sea, and I like to collect things. 🌿

Specifically, as of February this year, I have made it my mission to collect as many resources for the Final Fantasy community as I can; including, but not limited to: Communities, Events, Free Companies, How-To Guides, Lore, Tools and more! I have compiled them into Sea's Community Compendium for FFXIV Creatives, a venture I hope will service as a directory for new and old FFXIV players alike to find places and things they might not otherwise know about, and I'm proud to say that the Compendium has over a hundred individual entries!

...But I want more.

Specifically, as much as this is a call to introduce new people to the Compendium, it is a call for anyone who might know of specific resources/communities that not in the document to take a moment's time out of their day to let me know about them. You can submit specific resources via:

My tumblr dm's.

This handy google form.

Or SEAFLOOR, my support and social community for the Compendium and adjacent projects.

You do not need to be a resource/server owner to submit; there just needs to be a publicly accessible link. ✨

Projects like mine equally cannot survive without the support of the community. If you like what I do, please reblog this post or share it with your friends; post it in your community servers or link it on your social media(s). The more visibility I get, the larger the Compendium becomes and the more likely you are to find a resource or community to suit your needs.

Okay, but really, Is my space suitable for the Compendium? Most of the time, yes! Below the read more is some more information/stipulations. This is all publicly available on the document.

Below are the following things I do not accept on the Compendium:

Personal/Single-Character LFC ads. (Though these get posted to the SEAFLOOR Tumblr Community when I find them!)

Content intended for or can be used for bullying, harassment and OOC gossip. E.g. ‘Secrets’ blogs, receipts, callout posts, etc. This does not include IC tabloid blogs or other ventures used to generate roleplay.

Communities that do not have an RP/writing element (large-scale exempt).

Anything I find personally distasteful or goes against the spirit of this project.

Common-sense rule applies.

I want to put my community on the Compendium but we have an application process. Is this okay?

Yes! Just note somewhere in your application that's a requirement. The only thing that is mandatory for the Compendium is that you must be open to new members or have a public-facing/accessible facet. There's no point advertising a community if no one can join it in some way!

I want to put my Community on the compendium but I only have x number of members —

Also totally okay! People don't start with large communities. Activity is a must but, whether your server has two or two thousand members, if you're looking for new people to join, I'd love to help you find people.

I want to put my community/resource on the Compendium but I worry its too niche?

Okay, and? If your Eorzean Fishing Alliance has four members but you roleplay every second weekend, I still want to know about it. The same goes for resources; if it's relevant to the game, it'll be useful to someone.

How active does a community need to be?

If you find a community has not been active in about two/three months, send me a message and I'll take a look at it. Communities have ebbs and flows, especially event spaces that may take hiatuses depending on member interest/life events. I'm not strict in my implementation provided a space isn't dead. If a link or anything is broken, contact me asap!

I have [insert a question not stated here]?

No drama! Send me an ask or use the #Compendium channel in my Discord!

[dwellsinparadise]

I have a theory that the moment one gives close attention to anything, even a blade of grass, it becomes a mysterious, awesome, indescribably magnificent world in itself. I have tried this experiment a thousand times and I have never been disappointed. The more I look at a thing, the more I see in it, and the more I see in it, the more I want to see. It is like peeling an onion. There is always another layer, and another, and another. And each layer is more beautiful than the last.

This is the way I look at the world. I don't see it as a collection of objects, but as a vast and mysterious organism. I see the beauty in the smallest things, and I find wonder in the most ordinary events. I am always looking for the hidden meaning, the secret message. I am always trying to understand the mystery of life.

I know that I will never understand everything, but that doesn't stop me from trying. I am content to live in the mystery, to be surrounded by the unknown. I am content to be a seeker, a pilgrim, a traveler on the road to nowhere.

—Henry Miller, Black Spring

[kakashiweek]

Kakashi Week 2024 Prompts!

We're thrilled to announce our prompts for this year's event, taken from your suggestions, thank you!

Day 1 ~ September 15th Prompt A - Kakashi's Birthday Prompt B - Free Day

Day 2 ~ September 16th Prompt A - Habits Prompt B - Negotiations

Day 3 ~ September 17th Prompt A - Secrets Prompt B - Stories

Day 4 ~ September 18th Prompt A - Blessing | Curse Prompt B - Hobbies

Day 5 ~ September 19th Prompt A - Bearing Fruit Prompt B - Any AU

Day 6 ~ September 20th Prompt A - Dream | Nightmare Prompt B - Seeking

Day 7 ~ September 21st Prompt A - Stillness Prompt B - Catastrophe

Day 8 ~ September 22nd Prompt A - Sky | Sea Prompt B - Flora | Fauna

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[scary-grace]

the new postmodern age (chapter 3) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Written for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, and the prompt 'a day at the beach'! Congratulations on the milestone, and thanks for giving me a chance to write this fic.

dividers by @enchanthings

Before the war, you were nothing but a common criminal, but in the world that's arisen from the ashes, you got a second chance. Five years after the final battle between the heroes and the League of Villains, you run a coffee shop in a quiet seaside town, and you're devoted to keeping your customers happy. Even customers like Shimura Tenko, who needs a second chance even more than you did -- and who's harboring a secret that could upend everything you've tried to build. Will you let the past drag both of you down? Or will you find a way, against all odds, to a new beginning? (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2

Chapter 3

Tenko doesn’t come to the café the next day. He doesn’t text you back, or answer your call, but you know he hasn’t blocked you because your messages get delivered. That’s a relief, but not much of one. He doesn’t have his laptop, so he can’t work. What’s he doing today? What happened to him? Is he all right?

It should disturb you that the latter question matters more to you than the others, mattered more than the fact that you slept with a customer and the fact that he’s apparently a supervillain in disguise. It’s the supervillain part that should overwhelm everything else – but you’ve spent the last five years living by the principle of judging people on who they are now, not what they were in the past. You can’t drop that principle now. Not with how you feel about Tenko. Not with what you saw him do.

You keep up a happy face at work, like always – there’s no such thing as a bad day for a reformed criminal, you should remember that you’re lucky to have gotten a second chance – but beneath the surface, you’re in turmoil. You save a babka for Tenko, but you know deep in your heart that he’s not coming in today. If you want to give him his stuff back, you’re going to have to go to him.

You don’t know where he lives, but you have enough information to figure it out. During the afternoon, as the steady stream of customers trails to a stop, you collect what you know – the exact time Tenko’s power went out, the list of outage alerts the town posted, naming the exact time and the affected neighborhood. When you match Tenko’s text to the outage alerts, you see that he lives in a lightly populated neighborhood on the edge of town, so far out that you’re surprised he didn’t lose power sooner. It’ll be a long walk from your café, but the weather is nice, and it’ll be a while before the sun sets. When five o’clock comes, you close up shop, package the babka to take with you, settle Tenko’s backpack on your shoulders, and set off.

You try to get your head in the game as you walk. Tenko probably thinks you’ve guessed who he is. That’s probably why he left. You’re not just dealing with a customer you slept with; you’re dealing with an undercover supervillain whose identity’s just been revealed. You need to be careful going in there. You don’t know what kind of mood he’s in. You don’t even know if he’ll want to see you. If your positions were switched, would you want to see him?

You would. You’d want to know you still mattered to him, and you’d want what you’ve always wanted – for someone to come find you, to make sure you’re okay. Even if it’s the last thing Tenko wants, you have to try.

Tenko’s neighborhood is sparsely populated, and of the houses there, you rule out most of them immediately – they were built three years ago, and you can’t imagine Tenko moving once he got here. One house is way too big, a fancy lodge used for weddings and corporate retreats. It leaves exactly one place. A house set back in the woods, away from the shore, serviced by a dirt road and barely visible through the trees.

It looks like the kind of place people go to get murdered. If you were a normal person, you’d think twice about going down that road. But you hung out in scarier places than this when you were a criminal, and unlike back then, you have at least some idea of what’s waiting for you in there. You pick your way down the dirt road, skirting the overgrown patches on your way up to the front door. Almost immediately you notice that something’s wrong. The doorknob’s completely gone, as if it’s just crumbled away.

You swallow hard and knock on the door. It sways slightly in place. “Tenko?” When there’s no response, you try again, without the knock. “You left your backpack and laptop at my house. Can I come in?”

“Leave it there.”

As fast as your heart leaped at hearing his voice, it sinks again at his words. But you did what you wanted to do. You checked on him, and you brought him his things, and you don’t want to stay where you’re not wanted. “Okay,” you say. You slide his backpack from your shoulders and set it down carefully on the steps. You put the babka next to it. “Um – you’ve got my number, if you want to talk. I want to talk to you, but I understand if you don’t. I just wanted to see if you were okay.”

You turn away and start down the path, your eyes stinging, blinking hard. You think you hear the door open, but you don’t look back – but when your phone buzzes, you yank it out of your pocket in record time. The text is from Tenko. come in if you want to

The relief that sweeps over you feels too strong. You turn around without texting back, gathering up the backpack and the babka before pushing open the door. Tenko’s house is dim, the curtains pulled shut. His TV is muted with a screen full of static. You can’t see him, but you can hear the dry sound of his fingernails against the side of his neck. His voice is flat. “Why are you here?”

“I was kind of shaken up after what happened yesterday. I thought you might be, too.” You take a few cautious steps forward. “I was worried.”

“Don’t lie.” The kitchen is empty. So is the bathroom, and the bedroom when you peer through the door. “You saw. You know.”

His breathing rattles ever so slightly. “Why are you here?”

“I wanted to make sure you were okay,” you say. “I like you.”

“You sure about that?” Tenko’s voice takes on a mocking note. “I think you’re just here to see if it really was a villain you fucked.”

“I don’t –”

“Don’t say you don’t care about it. You do.” Tenko won’t even let you finish the sentence. “It’s all you care about now, so take a look.”

He’s been sprawled out on the couch, but now he stands up. Hood down, mask off, and it’s perfectly clear who you’re looking at. Shigaraki Tomura turned to dust on the battlefield, but he’s here right now, in the living room of a house that’s falling apart. He stares at you, and you remember a thousand still photos, a thousand news broadcasts, all capturing the same light of madness glowing in his eyes. There’s no such thing there now. Whatever drove Shigaraki Tomura onwards, fighting to destroy until his last breath, isn’t there anymore. It’s easy for you to hold his gaze.

He’s the first to look away, his jaw clenched. “What were you expecting me to do?” you ask. “Scream and run away?”

“Call the cops. Or the heroes.” His shoulders lift, the fall. “Maybe the press. You can tell them all about your one crazy night with the villain who came back from the dead.”

“I didn’t want it to be just one night,” you say. He looks at you, then looks away. “I still don’t.”

“Yeah. I guess your tell-all with the press will be more exciting if we fuck a few more times.”

“Hey,” you snap. “If you’re waiting for me to freak out, stop waiting. It’s not going to happen.”

“You’re out of your mind.” He’s turned most of the way away from you now. One hand is clawing at his neck. The other’s up over his face. “Were you under a rock during the war? Did you see what I did?”

“I saw,” you say carefully. “I know what you did. I know that’s the person you were. I know that’s not who you are now. I make decisions based on the person I see in front of me, not by who they were before – as long as they’re trying to be someone different.”

“You think I’m different?” He laughs. At least, you think it’s laughter. You need it to be laughter, because if it isn’t, it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. “You must be high.”

“I’m not.” You keep watching him. “You could have let that kid drown yesterday. My quirk couldn’t have saved him, and my plan was even worse. No one would have known the truth except you, and maybe you could have lived with that. I don’t know.”

You’re half expecting him to interrupt and tell you that he can, that it’s easy. He stays quiet. “You decided to save him, though. Even though it could mess things up for you. Even if it meant people might find out who you used to be. I know what you did before. I like who you are.”

It’s silent. He scratches one more time at his neck, a hard, sharp dig that draws blood. Then his hand falls away. “What did you tell the cops?”

“It wasn’t a cop thing. Just EMS and the fire department,” you say. You wonder if that will make him feel better. “The kid was unconscious by the time you got rid of the log. He didn’t see anything. I told them a wave came up and moved the log enough for me and him to get free.”

“And they believed you?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t they?” You’re a criminal who used to lie on the regular. You know when someone’s bought your story. “When the kid woke up, he remembered I was there, but not you. You’re safe.”

He doesn’t say anything. You figure he’ll kick you out if he wants you gone and stay put. Some part of you is desperate to find out what happened, how he came back from the dead, how he ended up here instead of in prison forever. The rest of you doesn’t care very much. The ideals you’ve lived by for the past five years won’t let you care, and even if they did, you wouldn’t want to. In some ways, it reminds you of how you feel about the Day of Peace. Not forgetting the awful things that happened. Being thankful for what’s there now.

You’re hoping he’ll break the silence, and you get lucky, sort of. “My couch is disgusting,” he says. “You can sit down if you want.”

You wait for him to sit down, then join him, setting the backpack down at his feet and passing the babka his way. He stares down at it blankly, like he’s never seen it before. “You like me.”

“Yeah.” You watch as he pulls off a piece and eats it. “Should I keep calling you Tenko? Or do you want –”

“Tenko.” He peels off another strip of pastry. “Sensei gave me the other name. It died with him. And me.”

You don’t know what to say to that. You look down at your hands in your lap and remember Tenko’s gloved fingers laced with yours, your fingers closed around his wrist as you rode him. “You’ve got questions, right?” Tenko says. You nod. “Ask.”

“I do want to know what happened,” you admit. “I mean, you died.”

“Wasn’t the first time.” Tenko shreds another piece from the babka and eats it. “The heroes had this kid who could Rewind people. Turn back the clocks on their bodies. I guess there was enough dust left for it to work on me.”

Tenko tells you that the heroes Rewound him as far as possible, but they couldn’t go back all the way – just to the point before All For One’s quirk was transplanted into him. After that, they used quirk-canceling bullets to erase his quirks one at a time. Tenko was kept in a secret facility for four months, almost dead to the world but not quite, while the world he meant to destroy began to rebuild itself. The heroes ran out of bullets before Tenko ran out of quirks. When they were finish, he only had one left – Decay. Tenko tells you between bites of babka, then leans back against the couch. “They woke me up after that.”

“They?”

“It was All Might’s idea,” Tenko says. His eyes are closed. “He couldn’t give up on saving me, and he dragged Midoriya in on it, too. They told me about the new laws that were being passed and their plans to help my friends, and then they said it would only work if I stayed dead.”

Todoroki Touya’s words cross your mind: Deku made him a martyr. “Everybody else was redeemable,” Tenko says, “but not me. After what I did, nobody cared about how I got there. I’d rot in prison for the rest of my life, and knowing I was still out there would remind everybody that evil really exists. Me being alive was going to undermine their push to get villains recognized as people, and it was going to screw my friends over. What I did – it was never just for me. It was always for them.”

You think about the first six months after the war. The question of what to do with the surviving members of the League loomed over everyone, and Deku was right in the middle of it, insisting that they deserved a second chance. That everyone deserved a second chance. He swore up and down that villains aren’t born evil, that it’s about choices, and more than that, about chances. And everyone was in a softer mood knowing that the greatest threat to Japan, to the world, was gone. Shigaraki’s death made people feel safer. Knowing he was still alive would have put a bullet through any chance of reform. “So you agreed?”

“They weren’t asking,” Tenko says. “Their plan was for me to live. No rehab, no charges, nothing. They gave me a new identity and a job and money so I could pay rent somewhere. I can’t be found out or it’ll ruin everything. I can’t let my friends know I’m alive or it’ll ruin everything. I dye my hair and wear that stupid mask and hide in plain sight, and I’m supposed to do that forever. And live a happy life.”

His voice takes on a flat, bitter note. “Half the time I wish they’d let me stay dead for real.”

You’ve never found yourself in anything like Tenko’s situation. You never will. But you know that feeling – of waking up every morning and wishing you hadn’t, of dragging yourself through each day with no purpose and nothing to look forward to, no hope that anything would change. Nobody ever made you feel better by telling you how much you had to live for. You touch Tenko’s shoulder lightly to warn him, then wrap your arms around him in a tight but awkward hug from the side, your cheek pressed against his shoulder. Tenko’s hand comes up to grasp your wrist, and for a moment you think he’ll pull you away, or worse. But his hands are still gloved. All he does is hold on.

“This is your fault,” he mumbles after a while. “You and your stupid free WiFi.”

You manage something like a laugh. “What did my WiFi ever do to you?”

“It’s better than mine,” Tenko says. “I had a reason to go somewhere. And somewhere to go.”

Your throat closes off in an instant. That was what you wanted this whole time. Even if it was what you had in mind when you opened the café, when you added the internet, you never expected it to work on the person who used to be Shigaraki Tomura. So many things happened because he stopped by that day, and not all of them were because of you – he’s the one who kept coming in, the one who kept talking to you, the one who asked if he could come over two nights ago. You remember what Tenko said after the power went out, about wanting to find out if living differently would work. You wonder what he thinks the answer is.

“Do you like me?” Tenko asks, and you nod. “Do you still like me?”

“Yes.” You’ll probably get tired of that question at some point, but maybe you can get Tenko to a point where he doesn’t need to ask before that happens. “It’s getting late, though. And I’ve got an early morning.”

“So you need to go.” Tenko’s voice is dull.

“Probably,” you say. “You can come too, if you want.”

“You really want a supervillain in your house?”

“You let a convicted felon into your house,” you point out. “We’re sort of even.”

Tenko shakes his head. “Not even close to even.”

“I’ve done more time than you have,” you point out, and Tenko snorts. “Come on. Grab what you need and let’s get out of here.”

You let go of Tenko to get to your feet, then hold out your hands to help him up. He doesn’t let go once he’s standing. “I like you, too,” he says. “You know, right?”

You nod. “If you didn’t, you wouldn’t have let me in.”

Tenko studies you, and you look back at him. You have the whole picture now, or close enough to it. Even knowing what you know, you like what you see. You lean forward, rising on your toes to kiss him, and when he kisses you back, you taste chocolate and cinnamon on his lips. You’re still tasting it as the two of you walk back to your apartment, hand in hand.

You haven’t worn a dress in a while, and you’ve worn a formal dress maybe never. It’s really uncomfortable. So are your shoes – low heels, but heels nonetheless, and even the scant makeup you’ve put on feels like a mistake. You really don’t want anybody to see you like this, but you promised you’d show at least one person. You snap a selfie and send it to Tenko. I hate this outfit.

i’ll decay it for you if you’re still wearing it when you get back. Tenko texts back right away. He usually does. when are you coming back?

You got a hotel room, but only so you could have somewhere to change clothes. You’re not planning on sleeping over. Tonight, on the last train.

good. The typing bubble hovers for long seconds. you look hot. don’t hook up with any heroes.

As if. You roll your eyes. Don’t worry. I only date people who’ve done time.

What you and Tenko are doing isn’t dating. To you, dating means something casual, and it isn’t casual – not when you basically live together, not when he calls you his girlfriend, not when he pays for half the groceries and inexpertly folds the laundry and spends every night wrapped around you whether you’ve had sex or not. It’s serious to him, and it’s serious to you. The kind of serious where if you got invited to an important event, you’d ask for a plus-one if you didn’t have one already.

You got a plus-one for this event, but it’s not one you can take Tenko to. For a gala celebrating the reauthorization of every criminal justice reform bill passed at the end of the war, it’s safest for you to go alone.

You gave testimony this afternoon before the vote – you, aided and abetted by your probation officer, who was able to show hard data on what you’ve accomplished, as well as share five years of survey responses from the people in your town, which displayed a marked positive trend in their perception of former criminals. You got to hear other program participants and their probation officers testify, too, and their results were similar to yours. The NCRA is working as intended. It’s working well enough that the government decided to expand it. During the next cycle, accomplices to violent crimes will be eligible, too.

Present Mic’s nomination of you for early release from the program was accepted. They’re going to clear your record gradually, starting with your earliest convictions, which means that although you’ll be hanging onto your felony conviction for another five years, your record will be clear before you’re thirty-five. The bigger deal to you is the forgiveness of the interest on your startup loan. Now all you have left to do is pay off the original balance, and you can do that by the end of the year. And you get to take down the sign in your window informing everybody that you’re part of the NCRA.

You don’t plan to do that. You plan to leave it up, and to keep answering people who ask questions, as long as it takes for offering second chances to become the norm rather than the exception. If you can change even one person’s mind, give even one person a shred of hope, it’ll be worth it. It already is.

Tenko texts you back, after laugh-reacting to your message. are any of them going to be there?

Spinner and Toga were at the hearing. You send a thumbs-up, and Tenko responds. if you can talk to them without getting in trouble, find out how they are.

Definitely. A thought crosses your mind. Is there anything you want me to tell them?

i can’t talk to them

Could they talk to you, you ask. If they knew you were alive?

i guess. but they don’t so it doesn’t matter

Huh. You need to think about this, but you’ve got to go. You’re going to be late. You text Tenko a quick heart emoji, then stuff your phone in your purse and hurry out the door.

You’re the only person in formal wear on the Shinkansen, and you make yourself even more conspicuous when you start changing the color of your dress, trying to make it look even slightly better. By the time you get off the train, you’ve created some kind of nightmarish watercolor effect that will draw more attention to your dress than your face. You decide that’s as good as it’s going to get and meet up with your probation officer just inside the venue.

Present Mic greets you with a grin. “Hey, now that’s a look!” he pronounces. “How are you feeling?”

“Okay,” you say. “It’s kind of unreal.”

“You earned it,” Mic says. “Congratulations, listener. How would you feel about not being a listener anymore?”

That’s right – now that you’re off probation, you won’t need a probation officer. You won’t see Mic again. The thought makes you sad, even if it’ll decrease Tenko’s stress levels by a factor of twelve. “Because I was thinking,” Mic continues, “you’ve got a pretty good story here. Why not guest-star on my show and tell it?”

You cough. Mic snags a drink off a passing tray and hands it to you, all while making his sales pitch at full volume. “I mean, they just made a whole new group of people eligible for the NCRA. Who better to spread the word than one of the originals?”

One of the originals. That’s you, isn’t it? You were on mental health watch in an overcrowded jail when you first heard the news, and you showed your first signs of life in days in your efforts to find out more. You swallow some of your drink – it’s alcoholic, but only lightly – and Mic keeps talking. “You’ve been a good example for the civilians. Why not be a role model for other criminals, too?”

“I don’t think I’m a role model,” you say hastily. “But, um – if you wanted me to come on and talk about how the whole thing works, then I will.”

“Nice. My people will call your people and set something up!” Mic cackles at his own joke. “Finish that and let’s go. I’ve got some people I want you to meet!”

You have no idea who he could be talking about, but you get two nasty shocks one after the other – first, that Mic is married to Eraserhead, and second, that he brought Eraserhead as his plus-one. You probably should have been better prepared for the possibility of running into someone who captured you, because every hero you run into is someone who captured you. Or who didn’t capture you, given that you also meet Endeavor, and he pretends the two of you have never met. Almost every hero you’re introduced to is someone who faced Shigaraki Tomura in battle, who was injured at his hands. People who observe the Day of Peace the other way.

Mic finally runs out of people to introduce you to and you earn a temporary reprieve, which you use to sit down. You spend all day at work on your feet, but at work you’re not wearing heels. You lift your feet partway out of your shoes, hoping you’re subtle about it, and dig your phone out of your purse. Tenko’s been texting you. The first text is a photo of the biggest, ugliest spider you’ve ever seen – on the floor, in your kitchen. The next is a picture of the kitchen floor, empty. don’t worry I took it outside

You and Tenko have talked about this. You try to take them outside, but you aren’t mad at him if he kills them. His next text makes less sense: I changed my mind.

About what? The typing bubble is up, promising another message and probably a clarification, but you hear a familiar voice nearby, and you’re pretty sure it’s someone Tenko wanted you to check on. You look up, and sure enough, it’s Spinner. The woman he’s talking to has a familiar voice, too. Neither of them sound very happy.

“I had to rent this thing,” Spinner is saying despairingly. “When it comes back looking like this –”

“Maybe it’ll fade?” the woman pipes up. “I’m so sorry. If I hadn’t tripped –”

“It’s not you. And it’s not gonna fade.” Spinner sounds even mopier than before. “They’re going to call my probation officer and I’m going to get busted –”

“Over a stain?”

You know an in when you hear it. You slide your feet reluctantly back into your shoes, get to your feet, and make your way over. There’s Spinner, a big red-wine stain blooming on his white shirt. The woman next to him is tiny, maroon-haired, and holding an empty glass. She looks familiar, but you’re not sure from where. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop,” you start, “but if the stain is the problem, maybe I can help. My quirk –”

“You’re the color girl!” The short woman’s eyes brighten. “Oh, I was hoping we’d run into you! We –”

“If you fix it, will it stay that way?” Spinner asks. “If it goes back later, they’ll think I lied to them.”

“It’ll stay,” you promise. You extend one hand to touch the shirt and change it back to white, setting the color to stay from now until the heat death of the universe. “There. Good as new.”

“Thanks,” Spinner says, embarrassed. He takes a second look at you. “I saw you at the vigil this year.”

“I go every year,” you say. “I would have said something, but you and the others never look like you want to talk.”

If you go next year, you’ll be in the same boat as Deku – wanting to tell them that their friend’s alive, unable to say a word about it. “Yeah, we really don’t,” Spinner says. “Nobody gets it. They can’t, since they never knew him like we did.”

You nod. Your phone buzzes in your purse and you ignore it. You really should have silenced it before you got to the party. “I’m so glad you could fix Shuichi’s shirt,” the short woman says. “He was so stressed. But I wanted to talk to you, too! I’m Aiba Manami.”

That’s where you know her from. “La Brava?”

“That was me.” She smiles slightly, sadly. “I don’t remember your villain name –”

“I didn’t have one,” you say. “And if we met in lockup or something, I’m sorry I don’t remember. I was kind of – out of it.”

“Oh, we didn’t meet! Don’t worry,” Aiba rushes to reassure you. “It’s more just that I – um –”

She breaks off. “She’s not gonna laugh at you,” Spinner says to Aiba. “Just tell her.”

“So, um –” Aiba looks down at her shoes, which match her dress. And her earrings. Her whole look is way more on point than anything you’ve ever worn in your life. “I’m eligible for the NCRA now.”

“Congratulations,” you say at once. You could have sworn you heard that La Brava and Gentle Criminal were pardoned after the war, but they must have pulled something else. “Job training?”

“She’s got that. She’s great with computers,” Spinner says, almost proudly. Something dawns on you. “She’s got a better idea.”

“I want to open up an internet café,” Aiba says. You try to hide the goofy grin that crosses your face and probably fail. “I could set up the network in an afternoon. But I don’t know anything about running a restaurant.”

“Neither did I when I got started,” you say. Looking back, you’re amazed you had the guts to throw yourself into a business where the margins are so tight. “If you get a space that’s already up to code it’ll be even easier. I had to do a ton of renovation before I could even think about buying equipment.”

“Did your loan cover all of that?”

You nod. You know you’re getting way too hyped, but it’s hard not to talk about something that saved your life with a ridiculous amount of enthusiasm. “Part of the deal is justifying all your expenses. Your probation officer will review them to make sure you’re staying focused, and if they see a reason to give a little extra, they will – or at least mine did. That becomes more to pay back, though, so it helps to be careful. Do you know what kind of food you want to have? Or are you just planning to do coffee? Coffee keeps costs down but it’s also faster, so if you’re charging by the hour for internet access –”

“I kind of don’t want to do that,” Aiba says. You blink. “You said yours is free.”

“It is,” you admit, “but I didn’t add it until five years in, when I already had a customer base. Adding it when I did just picked up some people who hadn’t stopped by yet.”

Like Tenko. Every so often he makes a joke about being lured in by the free WiFi and winding up with a coffee addiction, a pastry addiction, and a girlfriend. Aiba looks a little disappointed, and you feel a surge of guilt. “The thing is, I was starting out under different conditions than you’ll be. You had name recognition as a villain, and an iconic look – I mean, you still do. People will come in just to see what you’ve got going on. So you’ve already got some customers there. The trick will be getting them to stick around.”

Aiba nods. She also grabs Spinner’s hand, and you blurt out the question before you can think about whether it’s a good idea. “Are you two together? I thought you and Gentle Criminal were a thing.”

“Me and Gentle love each other a lot,” Aiba says. Spinner looks like he’s doing okay with someone who you’re pretty sure is his girlfriend talking about how much she loves some other guy. “We just don’t love each other like that anymore.”

“They still talk all the time,” Spinner says. “He came along on our first date to supervise.”

“Poor Shuichi,” Aiba giggles. “He thought we were trying to make him our third.”

So Spinner’s dating. And unlike Todoroki Touya, he hasn’t broken his probation. You know Tenko will want to know more. “How are you doing? I don’t know what your terms are like, but I’m guessing they’re strict.”

“Pretty strict, but my PO is pretty fair,” Spinner says. His PO is Ryukyu, if you remember right. “Since I don’t screw around like Dabi does, I get to travel in-country and stuff. As long as I clear it far enough in advance.”

“We’ve been meaning to take a trip,” Aiba says, and you get a hit of inspiration. “We just can’t decide where to go.”

This time you’ve made a decision to speak, so it doesn’t count as blurting out. Or so you tell yourself. “My café is on the coast. Why don’t you come out there? It’s really nice this time of year, and if you wanted to stop by the café, I could show you the setup and bookkeeping and everything.”

Aiba’s eyes brighten. Spinner looks less sure. “How do they feel about heteromorphs around there?”

“I think it’s on the safe list. A customer told me that one time.” You watch as Spinner pulls out his phone to check for himself. “I definitely don’t want to boss you guys around. But if you’re serious –”

“I am!”

“Then I want to help as much as I can,” you say. “You’re welcome to swing by.”

Spinner looks up from his phone. “It’s on the safe list,” he reports, and Aiba beams. “When do you want to go?”

They decide on two weeks out, and you suggest that they show up on your last open day of the week, so you can show Aiba what a full week’s expenses, documentation, and income look like. You give them both your number so they can text for recommendations about where to stay, a weird anticipatory feeling humming with in you. This could work. You know Tenko misses his friends, but he can’t contact them himself. But if they just happen to run into each other –

It could work. You want it to work. Your phone buzzes with texts as Aiba and Spinner tuck theirs away. You can make this work for Tenko.

“Spinner!” someone calls out. You look up and see Deku waving from across the room. “Hi!”

“Shit, not him,” Spinner mumbles. “I don’t wanna do this right now.”

“I could pretend to faint,” Aiba suggests.

“No, he won’t buy that. I just –”

You remember the conversation you overheard at the vigil. Spinner has a lot of good reasons not to want to talk to Deku. “Pretend you’re getting sick. I’ll run interference and you can make a break for it.”

“Thanks,” Spinner says. Aiba’s already acting woozy. “It was nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, see you soon.” You set off across the room and intercept Deku before he’s halfway there. “Hi! I don’t know if you remember me, but we talked at –”

“The vigil! Of course I remember!” Deku smiles. “I was wondering if you’d be here. Congratulations!”

“Thanks,” you say. You feel a little weird being congratulated for being a civilian again when you’ve just been engaging in some lowkey villain behavior. “I wanted to come thank you in person. If you hadn’t been advocating for this stuff, I don’t think there’s any way it would have passed.”

Deku’s smile softens, saddens. “I can’t be a hero anymore. This is the next best thing, right?”

“You could look at it like that,” you say. “Or maybe you it’s that you can save more people this way than you ever could have working as a regular hero.”

“People say that to me a lot,” Deku says, and you cringe. “But it’s not usually people like you saying it.”

People like you. People whose lives changed because of the initiative Deku spearheaded, which he only took on because he failed to save Shigaraki Tomura. “It’s easier to believe from you,” Deku concludes. “I just wish I knew what he thinks of it all.”

You know exactly what Tenko thinks about it. He thinks you have to do too much stupid paperwork. He doesn’t like that the hero who monitors you is someone whose quirk is way outsized for your power set. He thinks it’s dumb that the only reason you stopped going to therapy even though, to quote, “you still have issues”, is because you knew the heroes were reading all the notes on what you said. And at the same time, you know he’s glad you opened the café. You know he’s glad he met you. And it wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t let Deku and All Might fake his death, and if Deku hadn’t made it count.

Deku sighs. “I know I can’t,” he says. You really have to admire the coverup here – anybody who hears Deku express his feelings about Shigaraki will think he’s just really fixated on how Shigaraki’s doing in the afterlife. They’ll never guess that he’s really talking about Tenko, who’s alive and well and living in your apartment. “So I’ll think about it your way.”

“Okay,” you say. “Works for me.”

The two of you smile awkwardly at one another. Then Deku changes the subject. “Have you seen Spinner? I thought he was over there, and I wanted to –”

“I think he just went to get some air,” you say. “It’s a lot in here. I bet he’ll be back.”

Deku nods and hurries off, and you take a second to catch your breath. Tonight’s been a lot, but all in all you think it was a success. You didn’t look stupid in your dress, or if you did, no one said anything about it. You’re going to get to help out somebody who wants to join the NCRA. You got at least a little bit of the point across to Deku about what he’s done since the end of the war. And you set up a chance for Tenko to see his best friend again.

Tenko was texting you, wasn’t he? He was saying he’d changed his mind about something. You unearth your phone and swipe past the texts from unfamiliar numbers identifying themselves as Aiba Manami and Spinner to reach Tenko’s text thread. Spider, no spider, didn’t kill it, changed his mind – but now there’s follow-up. Follow-up you really should have taken the time to read before going to talk to Spinner.

don’t try to talk to him. Tenko’s serious enough to use punctuation, which means it’s as serious as he ever gets. i don’t want to fuck him up and i don’t want to find out i faked my own death for nothing.

You cringe in horror. You’re going to have a lot of explaining to do when you get home.

“This is crazy,” Tenko says. “You know it’s crazy, right?”

“You don’t have to do anything. You don’t even have to be there,” you say. You’re amazed Tenko is awake this early – usually he sleeps in when you go to work – but he’s here, leaning against the counter while you go through your opening checklist and yawning behind his mask. “It’s up to you if you want to talk to him or not.”

“He’s gonna be pissed at me.” Tenko slouches. “This fake-my-death shit – we were friends. I’d be pissed in his spot.”

“He and Toga both said they missed you,” you counter. You remember their sadness at the vigil and feel a distant ache in your heart. “Maybe he’ll be pissed at first, but then I bet he’ll be happy.”

“I can’t believe he has a girlfriend,” Tenko says. “One time he got his ass kicked because the hero he was fighting told him he was her type.”

You wonder what Spinner’s going to say when he finds out Tenko has a girlfriend. If he finds out. If Tenko decides to reveal himself. It’s the day Spinner and Aiba are supposed to get here, and you still have no idea what he’s going to choose.

Tenko wasn’t happy when you got home from the gala and came clean about what happened. He wasn’t angry, either – not when you told him you talked to Spinner, not when he found out you invited Aiba to come check out the café. The word you’d use was confused. Confused as to why you’d set up a way for he and Spinner to meet again. It could mess everything up, you remember him saying. Why would you risk that?

It doesn’t have to mess everything up.

Tenko shook his head. Aren’t you worried I’ll go back to it?

To being a villain? No. You and Tenko were sprawled out on the couch together. He’d yanked you down into his lap the instant you came close enough. When I was still on the other side of the law, I didn’t have friends, or allies. Most common criminals don’t. But you did. We all knew about the League, and how close you were. I used to think about how nice that would be.

You were understating it a little bit. You were jealous of the League’s closeness, of how clearly and obviously they cared about one another. The crowd you ran with was more likely to stab each other in the back than help each other out. I want you to have that again, you continued. If you want it.

Tenko didn’t answer you then. He just kissed you, and then the two of you made out on the couch until you fell asleep. The two of you have talked about it almost every day since then, and Tenko still hasn’t made up his mind. And it’s okay. He’s got until Spinner walks out the door to decide.

Osono knocks on the door, towing the pastry cart, and you abandon the opening checklist to hold it open for her. “I’ve got some new seasonal items today,” she says. “Mostly fruit – strawberries, peaches, that kind of thing. And – huh. What’s he doing here?”

She’s pointing at Tenko, who was taste-testing your flavored syrups until a split second ago. He ducks down behind the counter and vanishes from view. Osono stares. “Was that Shimura?”

“Yes,” you say. Osono raises her eyebrows. “We’re seeing each other.”

Seeing him is kind of understating it. He basically lives in your apartment and you’re pretty sure you’re in love with him. Osono’s eyebrows lift even further. “Since when?”

“Since –” You count back in your head. “Two months ago. Are there any allergens in the new pastries? I’m assuming they aren’t vegan.”

One of them’s vegan. You make a special label for it, and Osono helps you arrange the new pastries in the case, while Tenko stays hidden behind the counter even though she’s already seen him. The one time she comments on his presence is when he steals a pastry off the tray before she can put it in the case. “So you’re the one who’s been eating all the babka.”

“Mmph.” Tenko’s mouth is too full to respond, and once he’s swallowed the monster bite he took, he looks at you. “I can pay for that.”

“Just buy milk the next time we go grocery shopping. That’ll cover it.”

It’s not until Osono’s left that Tenko emerges from behind the counter. He’s grimacing. “That was stupid.”

“Telling her?”

“Hiding from her. Now she’s going to tell everyone that you’re shacking up with a freak.”

“She just knows we’re dating,” you say. “I didn’t say anything about living together.”

“Yeah, not until you mentioned us buying groceries.” To his credit, Tenko doesn’t call you a moron over it. “I don’t give a shit what they say about me. It matters what they say about you. Do you really –”

“Yes.” You kiss Tenko’s cheek over the mask. “And I still like you.”

Tenko’s voice is muffled. “I like you, too.”

It’s a busy day at the café. Tourist season is in full swing and the weather is bright and warm, which means everybody wants a blended drink and nobody wants to stay inside the café to drink it. You have four or five blenders going at a time, loud enough to partially deafen you but with enough capacity to keep you from falling behind on orders. You barely have any time to talk to Tenko, but he’s keeping busy, too – in the same spot as always, looking over the decision tree for a computer game. You’re not sure, but you think it might be the game he wants to make.

Spinner and Aiba show up just before closing, when you’re still swamped. You can’t even see Aiba – she’s that short – and Spinner calls out to you instead. “We’re gonna check out the beach for half an hour and come back”

“Sounds good,” you holler back over the sound of the blenders. Half an hour. You can clear the customers out, get your paperwork in order, and give Tenko some warning of what’s to come.

The nice weather’s worked in your favor all day, and it keeps working in your favor – you don’t have any trouble shooing out the customers once they’ve got their drinks. You flip the sign on the door to closed, drop all but two of the blenders in the dishwasher, and go to check on Tenko. He’s working hard at something, and you don’t want to interrupt. You sit down across from him and tap his foot under the table to let him know you’re there.

He looks up. “Did they leave?”

“For a little bit. They’ll be back soon.” You watch as Tenko pulls down his mask, unhooks it from over one ear. “How are you feeling?”

“If it happens, it happens,” Tenko says. “I’m not going to talk to him. But I’m not going to hide, either.”

“Okay,” you say. “I won’t mess around with it, either.”

“Any more than you already messed around with it.” Tenko kicks you lightly under the table, but he’s half-smiling at the same time. “I like having the choice. Didn’t get a lot of those before.”

“I know.” You hold out your hands for his, and Tenko gives them to you so you can raise them to your lips. He’s wearing his gloves, like almost always. “I –”

The bell rings, and both of you jump. It’s probably a good thing it cuts you off, because you have no idea what you were going to say next. Tenko’s grip on your hands tightens, and you kiss his knuckles again before standing up and hurrying to the door. Spinner and Aiba are out there, looking windswept but happy. “Come on in,” you say. “Do either of you want a drink?”

“Something cold,” Aiba says, and Spinner nods in agreement. “Do you have blended drinks?”

“Definitely.” You left two blenders out for precisely that reason. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Tenko’s arm pop up, giving you a thumbs-up. He wants one, too.

Since you know which one he wants, you start with his first, while your guests study the menu. Aiba’s eyeing the fruit flavors, but Spinner’s watching you. “Who’s that for?”

You could lie. But you’re keeping up appearances as usual, not making anything happen that shouldn’t, and if anyone else was asking, you’d answer honestly. “I have one person still hanging out back there. It’s for him.”

“I thought you were closed,” Aiba says. “Do you usually let people stay past closing time?”

“No. But he’s my boyfriend,” you say, “so it’s different.”

“Do you give him free stuff?”

“If he behaves,” you say. Tenko leans out from the booth to glare at you, and you struggle to keep a straight face. “Which he does.”

“If I gave you free stuff, would you stick around my café?” Aiba asks Spinner.

“No, I’d pay for stuff,” Spinner argues. “I don’t want to, like – grift, or something. Or take stuff away from people who will pay.”

Aiba frowns. “What if I want to give you free stuff?”

“I have a little room in my budget for stuff like that,” you say. “I’ll show it to you when we go over the expenses and stuff. Have you decided what you want yet?”

Aiba opts for white chocolate and strawberry. Spinner points at the drink you’re pouring into a cup for Tenko. “Can I get whatever that is?”

“Sure. And you can sit down wherever,” you say. “There’s no password on the WiFi, so knock yourself out. I’m just going to bring this one to my boyfriend, and then I’ll be right back to start yours.”

“I can take it to him,” Spinner says. Your heart lurches, and you shake your head, but Spinner’s already holding out his hand. “Seriously. If he won’t come up to get it himself –”

“Are you modeling good behavior? That’s so cute!” Aiba actually has to jump up to plant a kiss on Spinner’s cheek. She looks at you, grinning. “He’s so helpful. He never pours tea on me by accident.”

You don’t even want to know, and right now you’re in a bind. If you refuse, it’ll look weird. If you don’t, you’ll be setting Tenko up for a face-to-face meeting with a friend who’s spent the last five years thinking he was dead. What would be the normal, not-suspicious thing to do? Accept help when it’s offered. “Thanks,” you say, and pass the drink over to Spinner.

Then you turn away, back to the blenders. You can’t watch.

Aiba watches you make the drinks, asking how you know the proportions without measuring, asking how you came up with the recipes. You answer over the sound of the blenders, and all the while, you watch Spinner over the top of her head. Spinner dropped off the drink without incident, but he’s stopped to look at your latest mural – another sunrise, this one in the east over the ocean. Tenko kept suggesting weird things for you to paint, like the low-tide line or a slimy knot of kelp and seaweed, but when you started working on this, he sat and watched you the entire time.

You should do more like this one, he said when you were done. I like the horizons.

Spinner apparently likes them, too. He’s saying something to Tenko, who’s not responding and who’s probably face-first in his laptop. Spinner’s a nice guy, but you can sense him getting annoyed, and as you turn off the blenders, you hear him lose patience. “Did I do something to you? Why are you acting like –”

He breaks off suddenly. You see him take a step back, then another, until he collides with a table and chair and almost falls over. Aiba turns, concerns, as Spinner rights himself, stumbling over his words. “It can’t – you were – I thought you were – we all thought –”

“You were wrong,” Tenko says. “Get over it.”

You cringe. At the back of the café, Spinner explodes. “Fuck you!” he snaps. “That’s all you’re going to say? Get over it? Do you even have a clue, you bastard? We all thought – if you say get over it one more time –”

“Get over it.”

“You son of a bitch,” Spinner snarls, and he drags Tenko out of the booth. Tenko lets him do it, lets Spinner grab him by the front of his hoodie and shake him until the hood falls down. “You asshole, Shigaraki!”

“Shigaraki?” Aiba stares in horror, then goes for her phone. You reach across the counter and catch her wrist to stop her. “Let me go! If Shuichi talks to him – if anybody finds out –”

“Wait,” you say. Your hands are shaking. You take a deep breath. “Give it a second, okay? Just wait.”

Tenko finally gets tired of the shaking and plants his feet. “Are you gonna beat me up?”

“I should!” Spinner’s fury falters for a second, wavering into confusion. “You let us think you were dead, and all this time –”

“I didn’t have a choice,” Tenko says. “Do you want to keep shouting at me or do you want me to explain?”

“I don’t understand,” Spinner says. “I thought –”

“Yeah,” Tenko says. “I know.”

Spinner’s eyes well up, and you let Aiba go so she can race to his side. Tenko, meanwhile, snags his drink from the table and makes his way back to you, ducking behind the counter. “I was right,” he mumbles. “He’s pissed.”

“Give him a second,” you say. “It’s a lot to cope with.”

“You coped just fine.”

“I didn’t know you before,” you remind him. You set out two cups for Aiba and Spinner and pour their drinks before retrieving the whipped cream. “It wasn’t personal to me that you’d faked your death. It was personal to him.”

Tenko nods, but it’s clear that he’s dissatisfied. “I shouldn’t have come in today.”

“Give it a second,” you say again. You drop half a strawberry into the whipped cream on Aiba’s drink, then feed Tenko the other half, because his mask is down and his mouth is open. “If it went the other way, you’d need a second, too.”

Aiba’s still trying to comfort Spinner when you bring the drinks. Tenko trials after you. You set the drinks down on the table Spinner ran into, trying to ignore the way Aiba’s glaring at you. “You set this up,” she accuses. “You made Shuichi cry!”

“That was me,” Tenko says. He sits back down in the booth. “It was my choice to be here. If I hadn’t you’d never have known.”

“Why?” Spinner demands. His voice is watery. “It’s been five years. Why now?”

“I didn’t have a way to get in contact with you before,” Tenko says. “They made it pretty clear that I’d fuck up everything if I reached out on my own.”

Aiba hands Spinner a lacy handkerchief. Spinner wipes his nose. “Who’s they?”

“Maybe we should all sit down,” you suggest. “There’s a lot to explain.”

“Um, okay.” Aiba still looks wary, but you’re pretty sure the two of you are on the same side – you both want your boyfriends to quit fighting. “Come on, Shuichi –”

She manages to get Spinner into the other side of the booth, then slides in after him. You nudge Tenko until he scoots over and sit down, too. It’s quiet while Aiba tries her drink, Spinner tries his, and Tenko realizes you don’t have one and slides his over to share with you. Something about that breaks whatever’s keeping Spinner quiet. “How’d you get a girlfriend?”

“How’d you get a girlfriend?” Tenko retaliates. “Toga has more game than you.”

“More than you, too,” Spinner says. He’s glaring again. “What are you doing out here? What do you even do all day?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Tenko takes his drink back from you and takes another sip. “One of us has to talk first. You’ve been doing more stuff than me, so it should be you.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t come back from the dead,” Spinner says. “You first. This is really good, by the way.”

He’s looking at you. “Oh,” you say. “Thanks.”

“Everything she makes is good,” Tenko says, which isn’t true by any stretch of the imagination. “You want me to talk first? Fine. As long as you don’t start trying to beat me up again.”

“I wasn’t trying to beat you up.”

“Or bite me –”

“I never bit you!” Spinner protests. “Stop lying about shit!”

“You totally bit him,” Aiba says, patting Spinner’s arm. “It was on TV.”

You remember seeing that, and experiencing a moment of pure bemusement before going straight back to running for your life. “You were supposed to be unconscious,” Spinner mutters. “I’m not boing to bite you and I’m not going to beat you up. Start talking.”

You remember how Tenko explained it to you. You let him tell it at his own pace, and you were quiet, not asking questions unless you really needed to know. Spinner asks questions every two seconds, fixating on tiny details, lingering on parts of the story that Tenko clearly doesn’t want to talk about. When Deku’s name comes up, you see Spinner’s jaw clench. “That little shit. I don’t care if Stain called him a true hero. I’m going to kill him!”

“It’s a waste of time,” Tenko says. He looks a little curious. “What did he do?”

“Lied. He’s been lying to me and Toga and everybody for five years! He told me there was nothing left of Shigaraki Tomura when he knew damn well –”

“That it’s not my name anymore,” Tenko says. Spinner blinks. “Sensei gave it to me. Even if I could use it again, I wouldn’t want to. Midoriya didn’t lie to you. Technically.”

Spinner scowls. ��But even if he wanted to tell you, he couldn’t,” Tenko says. “That was the deal.”

“Why?”

“I’ll tell you as soon as you let me finish a sentence,” Tenko says. Someone kicks you under the table. “They used that kid Overhaul tortured to bring me back as far as they could – to right before I got Sensei’s quirk – and then –”

You get another kick. It’s Aiba. You’ve got no idea how she’s able to reach you from her side of the table, but you look up, and when you do, you see she’s holding up her phone. You take yours out, but she shakes her head sharply, then slides hers across the table to you. There’s an open Note. We have to talk like this. The government intercepts texts.

That’s not a surprise. You type a response and pass the phone. What do you want to talk about?

Aiba types really fast. Spinner, meanwhile, is trying to argue with Tenko about why he should have contacted the League anyway, consequences be damned. Aiba’s response slides back across the table. Shuichi’s tried really hard to change things. Harder than anybody else in the League, and people treat him terribly even when he’s doing nothing wrong just because he has a mutant-type quirk. I won’t let Shigaraki ruin it for him.

“He’s not going to ruin –”

She kicks you under the table, and you go back to reading. How do you know he’s not just biding his time and waiting for the right moment to come back?

You don’t. You aren’t naive, and you know that there’s no way to tell for sure what’s going on in someone else’s heart. Anyone can play any part, as convincingly as they’d like, until the moment they can’t take it any longer. You would know. That person used to be you.

And at the same time, you judge by action. You judge by Tenko not lashing out at Spinner even though Spinner’s provoked him. You judge by him keeping his hands covered, even though you know he can control his quirk. You judge by him keeping his head down, staying out of trouble, not seeking the spotlight or railing against the system. You judge by how he let you into his world, how he’s let you make yourself at home just as he’s made himself at home in yours. You judge by how he saved someone’s life.

I worry about him going back as much as I worry about me going back, you finally type. I can’t say never. I can say that things are better now than they were before. We could go back. I just don’t think we’d want to.

Aiba takes her time reading over your answer, and when she responds, she changes the subject. I think we should let them talk now. Will you still tell me about how you run your cafe?

“Of course,” you say out loud. You slide out of the booth, only for Tenko to catch your hand. “I’m just going to walk her through the business stuff. Send up a distress signal if you need me to come save you from Spinner.”

Spinner snorts. “Bring it over here instead,” Tenko says. His grip on your hand shifts, and you realize all at once that he doesn’t want you to leave. He wants you to stay while this happens. “I’ll move my shit off the table.”

He clears away his laptop, and you bring over the binder where you keep your expense reports, inventory sheets, income tracking, tax forms, and all the extra forms you have to fill out as part of the NCRA requirements. Aiba doesn’t look worried about it, although Spinner visibly blanches at the sight of so much paperwork. “Manami, I know I said I’d help you with the stuff, but –”

“It’s not that bad once you get used to it,” you say. You turn your attention to Aiba. “Where do you want to start?”

“I made a list,” she says. “Tell me about the loan application first.”

While you and Aiba go over the finer points of the initial stages of the NCRA, Tenko explains to Spinner. You listen with half an ear as he goes over everything, speaking quickly and with more assurance than he did when he told you, and you’d think he was comfortable with the story if not for how tightly he’s holding your hand under the table. It triggers a strange mix of feelings within you. You’re proud of him for trying to explain, for reaching back out to his friend. You’re a little worried that it’s stressing him out this much. And you feel – lucky, almost. Lucky that you’re the person he turns to. Lucky to find him. Or lucky, maybe, that he found you.

Aiba’s smartwatch beeps as you’re looking over the expense reports, and she sits up. “Shuichi, the sunset! We have to go.”

“Right.” Spinner looks kind of drained. So does Tenko. “It’s supposed to be really good here. We were gonna go down to the beach to watch.”

“You know the sun goes down on the other side of the country, right?” Tenko snarks. You elbow him. “Go check it out. I’ve never seen it, so don’t take my word for it.”

Then you should come with us, too,” Aiba says. Tenko startles. “And you!”

She’s looking at you now. “I don’t know if I can. I have to finish closing down –”

“We’ll come back and help you after,” Spinner says. He looks like he’s warming to the idea, even though a sunset beach walk is the kind of thing you’re supposed to do with just your girlfriend, not your best friend you’re mad at and his girlfriend who set the whole thing up. “Come on.”

You close up shop in a hurry, and the four of you set off for the beach. The crowds on the main beach are big, like always, so you lead the way to Fourth Beach, just like you did the day you found out who Tenko was before. Spinner and Aiba walk a little ways behind you, hand in hand, Aiba taking two steps for every one of Spinner’s. You match Tenko’s pace, like always. You watch him out of the corner of your eye. “How do you feel?”

“Weird.” Tenko sidles closer, leaning against you for a moment. “I’m not like he remembers me. I am, but I’m not. The last time we talked we were about to destroy the world, and now we’re just – normal.”

“You don’t think he wants to be friends with normal you?”

“I don’t think he thinks normal me is me,” Tenko says. His grip on your hand tightens for a moment. His hand shakes. “If there’s nobody down there – if it’s just us four – can you change my hair?”

A jolt runs through you. “Just for a little while,” Tenko says. “So he quits looking at me like I’m an imposter. Change it back when we leave.”

He looks miserable. You want to tell him that he’s not giving Spinner enough credit, that Spinner just found out today, that it’s probably still going to take time for Spinner to get used to the former Symbol of Fear slurping blended drinks in an internet cafe in a seaside town – but none of that is going to help. And he’s just told you what he thinks will fix it. You tighten your grip on his hand. “I’ve been meaning to offer to help with your hair,” you say. “I know you’ve been dyeing it yourself –”

“And I suck at it,” Tenko says. You didn’t want to say it. “You have better things to do with your quirk than fix my shitty dye job.”

“I can do a lot of things with my quirk at once,” you say. “What color do you want it today?”

Tenko’s quiet for a while, long enough for you to make the turn onto the path down to the beach, long enough for you to slow down and let Spinner and Aiba pass you. He doesn’t speak until you’ve both looked up and down the beach, confirming that the only people there are the ones who came with you. “Turn it white.”

“Okay,” you say. You let go of Tenko’s hands and beckon him closer. “Come here.”

When he’s close enough, you cradle his face in your hands, wait for permission to unhook his mask so you can kiss him. As he kisses you back, you run your fingers slowly through his hair.

He didn’t even own a hairbrush when he first started staying over at your apartment. You didn’t realize he was using yours until you started finding strands of matte-black hair caught in its bristles, and you didn’t realize how he was doing it until you caught him yanking the brush hard through the knots in his hair. It took a while for Tenko to grasp why you were offering to do it for him, but then he let you, and it’s become yet another small ritual in your lives. You don’t use a brush anymore. After the first few times, the knots are so small that you can draw them apart with your fingers.

If you were at home, you’d take your time changing Tenko’s color, a few strands at a time – but right now, you can’t. You run your fingers through Tenko’s hair, eyes closed, and when the two of you separate reluctantly, you open your eyes to check your work.

Even knowing what you know, knowing almost everything, there’s still a single moment of shock when you look at him. Maskless, white-haired, it’s impossible to see him as anyone but Shigaraki Tomura, Symbol of Fear, would-be destroyer of worlds – but only for a moment. Then he covers the back of his neck, glances awkwardly away and back again. “Does it look right?”

“Yeah,” you say. You take his hand again and start the walk down to the beach. “Let me know if you want to change it back.”

The sunset hasn’t quite started yet, but the sky is already beginning to change colors. The tide’s low, too, and you suppress the urge to tell your guests not to climb on the few beached logs with an effort. Tenko must be thinking of it, too, because he calls out to Spinner. “If you get stuck under one of those things, I’m not saving you.”

“You wouldn’t need to. I’ve still got my strength quirk. Unlike you, so –” Spinner looks back up the beach towards you and nearly jumps out of his skin at the sight of Tenko’s new hair color. “Fuck, don’t do that!”

“Do what? Look like me?” Tenko challenges. You wince. “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“I wanted you not to die,” Spinner says, and then it’s quiet, other than the crash of the waves and the distant cries of gulls. Tenko’s grip on your hand is tight and shaky. “Maybe it’s better this way. I couldn’t kick your ass in League if you were locked up in Tartarus.”

“You couldn’t kick my ass at League if I had on handcuffs and a straitjacket,” Tenko shoots back. “GTA, maybe –”

“Street Fighter, absolutely. Hand to hand combat isn’t your strong suit.”

“And sense of humor isn’t yours, if that’s the best hand joke you’ve got –”

They sound like they’re arguing, still. They sound like they’re arguing, but they aren’t. Tenko’s grip on your hand relaxes just enough that you can pull away, so you do. You leave them to talk and continue up the beach alone. Aiba’s taking photos of the sky as it goes pink and purple and gold, high over the hills. You leave her to it as well, but you commit the colors to memory, so you can use them later if you need to paint another horizon one day. You might. You probably will.

You believe in second chances, but this doesn’t feel like a second chance. It feels more like a miracle than anything else, the small kind, the kind you don’t notice until everything’s already fallen into place. The kind you would never have imagined when you moved here, six months after the war, hoping against hope that you could start over.

You stare up at the sky until you get a crick in your neck, then turn away to face the sea. The moon will be up soon. You haven’t painted a moonrise yet. Maybe this next time you will.

“Hey.” Tenko’s snuck up on you. He wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you back against him. “How’d you end up over here?”

“How did you end up over here? I thought you all were watching the sunset.”

“They wanted to kiss or something,” Tenko says. “Not my thing. So I cam to find you –”

“So we could kiss or something?” you ask, and Tenko snorts. “Or just to make sure I didn’t get stuck under a log?”

“You wouldn’t be that dumb.” Tenko hugs you a little closer. A few strands of his now-pale hair brush against your cheek. “Thanks. For getting Spinner to come out here.”

“Did you guys patch things up?”

“Not much to patch up. He just had to get it out of his system,” Tenko says. “He’s already trying to figure out how to get Toga down here.”

Another member of the former League of Villains hanging out at your cafe. It makes you nervous until you remember that you’re not on probation any longer. You wouldn’t have been in trouble for that even before. “Is that something you’d like?”

“It would be good to see her again,” Tenko says. “To see all of them. But I don’t think that’s what you signed up for.”

“Huh?”

“It’s not like with those two.” Tenko doesn’t have to tell you who he means. “There’s no rehabbing this. I didn’t talk to anybody in five years because anybody who got close enough could get close enough to guess. If you stick with me, you’re going to be hiding something your whole life.”

It always puts you a little on edge when Tenko starts talking about the future. You’re never sure how seriously he’s talking about it, if he really means it when he brings up staying together your whole lives. “I know that’s not what you wanted,” Tenko says. “You spent five years here tying yourself in a knot trying to be normal –”

“And look how many friends I made.” You kept to yourself, too. Being friendly to your customers isn’t the same thing as having friends. “Maybe it’s a good thing, if your friends are around more. We won’t have to hide anything from them.”

“You aren’t listening,” Tenko says. “Do you really –”

“What’s the alternative?” you ask. “Not for me, for you. That you never talk to anybody and never try anything new and never find things that make you happy? That’s not living.”

The thought of Tenko shutting himself away again – not just from you, but from everything – hurts more than anything nonphysical has a right to. “The world exists the way it is because of you. You should get to live in it.”

“Me?” Tenko scoffs. “Good try.”

“Yeah, you.” Spinner’s voice rings out from behind you. You peer out around Tenko to see he and Aiba approaching. “Deku feels so guilty for fake-killing you that he guilt-tripped everybody else into fixing things.”

“Not everything.”

“No, but some stuff,” you say. “If the laws hadn’t changed, I’d still be in prison.”

“Me and Gentle would have been, too,” Aiba adds. “And Shuichi.”

“I’d have been in Tartarus on a double life sentence. Toga’s and Dabi’s charges were even worse,” Spinner says. “You promised me and the others that you’d show us the most beautiful horizon we’d ever seen. This one looks pretty good to me.”

He gestures out over the ocean. The stars are already out, and the moon is just beginning to clear the horizon, a thin, bright crescent that casts a slender blaze of light across the water. You think he’s right. It does look pretty good, but there could be prettier ones, too. Maybe. You won’t know for sure unless you’re out here tomorrow.

So you will be. You’ll bring Tenko with you, as many times as you can, as many times as it’ll take, and maybe you’ll never make him see the world the way you do. But you can remind him that you like him when he asks, and switch in the other word sometime soon. You can find ways to bring his friends back to him, and maybe make friends with them yourself. He might think of it as hiding, but that’s not how you see it. It’s just part of living in the new world. You like living in it with him.

It’s quiet for a long time, all four of you watching the waves. One of Tenko’s arms unwraps from around your waist, but only so he can grab your hand and pull it up to his mouth. His lips brush against your knuckles, so soft that you can’t quite call it a kiss, and he keeps your hand there. When he speaks at last, it’s through your fingers, never looking away from the place where the ocean meets the sky. “Yeah,” Tenko says quietly, and you feel a smile break across your face. “It’s not so bad.”