#she won’t be used and will do her own thing

[inklessletter]

Of bows and ducks 🐤

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(Ficlet 👇🏻👇🏻 👇🏻)

[W: 1.6k - Rated M: Chrissy's POV, angst, eating disorder, abusive household]

Chrissy Cunningham wears bright eyeshadows because it distracts people’s attention from her crooked teeth.

Chrissy Cunningham wakes up half an hour before to curl her ponytail to create the impression that she has more hair than she actually has.

Chrissy Cunningham wears oversized clothes because it creates the illusion that she’s smaller.

Chrissy Cunningham has been shaving her legs since she was eight years old.

All of Chrissy Cunningham’s underwear is cotton white, and her mother cuts all the decorative little bows off.

Chrissy Cunningham hasn’t slept more than five hours at night in years, because perfection takes time.

Chrissy Cunningham hasn’t finished any meal since she was eleven, because it makes her look exemplary to her parents’ friends when she says she’s full before finishing, even if she's still hungry.

Chrissy Cunningham’s mother taught her all of this.

So, it’s safe to say that every morning, when she wakes up from yet another short sleep, Chrissy Cunningham doesn’t know who Chrissy Cunningham is. She feels like her own skin isn’t hers, it’s just some character that her mother has carefully created, and it’s a role she can’t break free from. 

Chrissy Cunningham doesn’t exist, not really.

Her friends don’t talk about this. They occasionally whine about the food or their body size, but they always take a few minutes to look at themselves in the mirror of the school restroom to style out their hair, or to put some make up on that they have to hide from their parents. 

Chrissy hates mirrors, because she always has the supernatural feeling that her reflection is someone else’s, but it was starting to get suspicious that she didn’t even put lip gloss, so she bought one last summer at Starcourt mall. 

She liked the mall. It was one of the few places she was allowed to go with her friends without her mother’s scrutinizing eye on her at all times. She used to side eye that one lingerie shop, wondering if she would ever wear one of the lacey black panties.

Well, not actually those, but something that is not white. Hell, if she was honest to herself, she would settle for just keeping the little bows. She’d settle for her mother not manipulating her intimate clothes.

She thought of stealing a pair of hot pink panties, but she’s too much of a coward. 

There’s something Chrissy’s friend used to do every time after shopping, though, and it would later keep her awake at night out of pure guilt. They would go to the ice cream parlor. She couldn’t buy an ice cream, actually, because her mother always counted the money and made her give it all back, then asked for the receipts, and she couldn’t just see one of an ice cream because that’d mean that she won’t have dinner for the following week (unfinished meals every night are better than no meal at all).

But she would go there, anyway, and let her friends engage with the Harrington boy so they could get a discount from him, and she’d glance more than once at the display of several flavors behind the glass, fantasizing how many scoops she’d have, or which ones she would choose, and then, with no fail, the other cashier, Robin Buckley, from school band, would come to ask which one she wants to try. It makes Chrissy feel naughty, she always picks a different one, but buys nothing. 

That happens several times. She tries not to think how sad it is that this little thing is actually thrilling. Something so small that makes her feel like she still exists.

Robin’s in uniform but she manages to own it. Her shoes are scribbled all over, she wears a lot of trinkets, little chains, silver (her mother doesn’t let her wear silver, just gold), her hair is cut unevenly, and looks like she tried to make highlights at home with cleaning bleach, and her smudge eyeshadow seems to be done with her finger.

Chrissy likes that so very much. Robin shows through the uniform. She slips through the cracks, like yelling at the world that Robin exists, that Robin is.

It’s not nice to compare, but she looks at her group of friends and thinks that they all… they all kind of look the same. And they worry about the same silly stuff that seems ordinary but is out of Chrissy’s reach, like parents not going for a weekend so they can sneak their boyfriends in.

They all share that they won't see Chrissy, either. Not really.

Not ever.

Because they are all the same person.

That’s an unkind thought.

Maybe Chrissy is unkind.

Then the Starcourt mall burns down and it feels like a divine intervention for how secretly petty she is when she’s there.

It happens in July, and since Chrissy’s mother won’t let her go to any parties, she starts training near the school for when the cheerleading season begins again, and that’s when she meets Jason Carver. 

He’s on the basketball court and she’s running laps. They steal glances and that’s exciting, because the boy is beautiful. His smile looks like  the prologue of a tragedy and she falls in love with that feeling. They exchange more than glances and smiles and she wants things she never wanted before. It all fades into the blur of a far away memory right when school begins and they trade hot kisses and love bites for holding hands in the hallway. 

She feels nothing for him when Chrissy realizes Jason loves the curated version that her mother has made out of her, not actually her. He loves that she’s girly, and perfectionist with her looks, that she’s fit and petite, that unnatural lovely hair swirl, that she wears cute colors on her eyelids and that she always leaves fries for him whenever they go to a diner. 

Nothing.

And what’s about her to love, anyway? Who is Chrissy Cunningham? She’s just—

She is just gone.

Maybe she was never there to begin with, inside this tight suit of skin and heavy bones she wears everywhere.

She keeps avoiding the stranger in the mirror when she realizes she only can see what her mother sees wrong in her, or she can only hear the comments of Jason about her bony hips that one time they were at the backseat of his car. Chrissy knows how to do her makeup without using the cursed mirror, she knows how to style her hair without it, and it’s weird, that’s why she always helps the coach to store all the stuff they used, coming into the dressing room after her team, and fakes to take more time in the shower after practice, to be the last one to leave. To dress herself with the profaned underwear without looking at it, to reconstruct the image she hates so much and not having to put a smile upon her face while she fades away one day more.

That time she’s not alone when she comes in, all sweaty in her uniform.

There’s the ice cream girl, Robin. They had band practice and she was the only one who actually took it seriously about practicing with the stiff jacket of the uniform for an upcoming rally. She heard the rehearsal from the gym.

Robin hasn’t seen her yet, and Chrissy just can’t move. Robin is listening to something that she’s humming to in her walkman, that she stops with a loud click and puts away, unbuttoning her shirt.

Something is happening inside Chrissy when she sees Robin’s ducky bra.

A ducky bra.

Sky blue background and a god damned yellow ducky pattern.

Chrissy has never in her life seen something like that. That looks… Okay, that doesn’t even look the right size. Maybe it’s from past years and she still uses it. It looks comfortable, though, even if a little old.

It has the little, bright orange bow between her breasts.

She gasps audibly, and Robin spots her.

They lock gazes and Robin actually looks like a deer caught in headlights. Pink cheeks, big, blue eyes focused on her.

She’s so gorgeous without even trying. She always has been.

Chrissy is in a strange chokehold. It has to be nice to be someone, she thinks to herself, and not being afraid to exist.

They talk, but Chrissy’s not even paying attention to what she is saying. She’s only looking at Robin, and Chrissy must have said something funny because Robin laughs. She can’t look away, notice Robin’s cheeks growing darker, her hand accommodating her hair behind her own ears, the low conversation taking place in an empty space.

She does remember asking Robin if she could kiss her, though.

She does remember standing there in silence before their mouths meet halfway, experimental and new, soft and wet.

Chrissy hears herself whine in Robin’s lips, and dares to ask for more. Begs Robin to touch her and she’s feeling Robin’s cold fingers around her waist, lips locking, mouth opening, tongue curling around hers.

Robin is chatty, but Chrissy doesn’t mind. She spares a few words here and there in between kisses, and then Robin whispers to her ear, over, and over again, “I saw you. At the mall, I saw you. Every time.”

Chrissy gasps and kisses her again, grabs her hair, puts her body against her, skin touching skin, they fall to the floor and keep kissing until her lips are sore and someone opens the door of the locker room and they both hid from that uninvited person to keep kissing in silence, which was rather hard, but ultimately thrilling and funny. 

It’s hours later, under the safe covers of her bed when she realizes that for a little while she actually felt her skin as her own. And that’s new, that’s fresh. 

Thrilling. Something so small that makes her feel like she actually exists.

Maybe Chrissy wasn’t gone after all.

Maybe Chrissy Cunningham actually exists.

[femmeroll]

𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦

here is the sex tape w/abby ! ty for all the votes on the poll my loves >_<

abby anderson x fem reader

cw: sex tapes, soft dom top abby, sub bottom reader, strap referred to as dick/cock, masturbation mention, modern setting bc what else do i write

abby hates plenty of things. she hates when the machines she wants to use are taken at the gym. she hates when people watch videos in public without headphones. she hates when her hair won’t cooperate in the morning when she tries to braid it. but there’s one thing she hates more than all.

being away from you.

not being able to wake up with you, kiss you, touch you. it’s torture. so when she finds out she has to go on a work trip for a week, she’s crushed.

but you have a plan. a plan that involves her having something to hold her over for a week. if she can’t touch you, she can at least watch herself touch you.

and that’s how you end up here, in your bed, with abby’s phone propped up against some books on the bedside table.

abby’s strong hands are holding your legs open, her warm mouth gently suckling your clit. every moan and whimper that leaves your mouth has her grinding her hips against the plush duvet cover.

“oh baby,” she groans into you. “keep moaning for me, just like that. i love your noises so much.”

despite her rough exterior and intimidating personality, abby is so gentle with you. taking you apart with her tongue like you’re made of glass and will break at any moment.

“cum in my mouth, babygirl. cum for me and you can have my dick.”

you look over at the phone, a bit embarrassed at the idea of cumming on camera. sure, this was your idea. but in the moment it feels humiliating.

“abby…s’embarrassing,” you whine.

her tongue is unrelenting, and despite how uncomfortable it may feel to have it on camera, you can’t stop yourself from cumming as she laps at your sopping cunt.

abby kisses you gently, giving you a taste of yourself.

“there you go, sweetheart. came all over my face like a good girl.”

you moan at the praise, satisfied that you’re making her happy.

“and since you did what i asked, you can have my cock now.”

abby lines herself up, slowly stretching your aching pussy. her cock reaches parts of you that your fingers can’t even dream of. she knows exactly how to make you feel good.

her pace starts off slow and deep, making sure you can feel every inch of her cock inside of you.

“look how deep i am…i can’t wait to fuck myself while watching this in my hotel.”

you can’t help but whimper at that, imagining abby in her hotel room, three fingers deep in her cunt as she watches herself fuck you. horny, touch starved abby drooling at the sight of her own cock inside you.

“it’s so deep, abs…shit,” you groan, spreading your legs further. you need her deep, hard, and fast.

“need it faster. please abby.”

and she’ll do anything to make you feel good, so of course you get it faster. she’d go at the speed of light if it made your moans get louder and your legs shakier.

abby’s thrusts quicken, hips slapping against your thighs and ass as she fucks you.

“look at the camera, baby. watch yourself getting fucked on camera. shit…my little porn star, aren’t you?”

your face turns to the phone, and fuck, you could do this every day. knowing that abby is rearranging your guts, and she’ll have that all to herself. her own personal porno. just for her to get off.

“m’gonna cum, abby. please let me cum.”

abby fucking whines at your pleas, increasing the speed of her thrusts and gently circling your pulsing clit with her thumb.

“cum on my dick, sweet girl. cum all over it on camera. fuck.”

your jaw goes slack, eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you cum, making direct eye contact with phone. you want abby to see you cum whenever she wants to. whenever she needs to see it, she can see it.

abby slowly fucks you through your orgasm, decreasing her pace as you come down from your high. she pulls her cock out of you gently, groaning at the sight of it covered in your slick.

“you came so well for me, sweetheart,” she says to your panting, limp figure. she gets off the bed and turns the camera off, knowing that she’ll be satisfied for the whole work trip.

[heyyallitssatan]

Ok I love this so so much, it opens up so many new avenues for character development and shows that mha can have alignments other than chaotic evil and lawful good, and it present natsuo in a whole new light and it gives us so much potential for the other todorokis and their reactions when they find out

I want to yap about a few of said options so bear with me

First and the easiest, they don’t find out until Touya’s final scene when natsuo doesn’t try to stop him and Touya laughs maniacally and then the scene goes pretty similarly made natsuo steps in on his behalf maybe he just keeps his mom and sister out of the fight who knows

Then again maybe natsuo is just there for dabis dance and seconds what he’s says basically

Now for the (in my opinion) more fun options

How does Dabi react to natsuo being the mole? Does he even know at all, maybe they kept him in the dark to preserve the moles identity and make it as easy as possible for him to maintain his cover, but (that’s less fun) Dabi is a core member of the LOV so maybe he does know, and how would he react to that

Maybe he doesn’t care at all because he really does have no connection to or fucks to give about his family and natsuo can do whatever he wants, but i think he’d be just thrilled that another one of endeavors kids feeling the same way as him and wanting to take the bastard down

Now say what would Dabi do if natsuo wanted to get in on the action, he wants to be on the front lines, more involved than just a rat

Does Dabi stop him? Maybe, maybe some tiny burnt shrivelled part of his heart still beats for his little brother and doesn’t want to see him hurt, so maybe he draws his line in the stand

But what if he does let him? Is it because he really doesn’t care, doesn’t see natsuo’s as a brother anymore so what difference does it make to him, or is it because deep down he wants to fight with his brother against the man who hurt them both

Either way I don’t think he be allowed to fight cause they’d want to preserve his anonymity, makes him a better spy, my question is, does Dabi breathe a sigh of relief or disappointment

And in any of these scenarios really, does natsuo get to know who Dabi is, does Dabi give up his own identity to know his brother again, or does he maintain his cover and observe from the sidelines, assuming of course that he cares enough to watch at all

Now, what about fuyumi?

I find it hard to believe she doesn’t know unless she doesn’t want to, and maybe that’s the case, maybe she knows somethings up with natsuo, hears just enough cryptic calls, sees just enough sneaking around, knows just enough, to know she doesn’t want to know anymore, she leaves it at that, content to live in the dark where things make sense and she can keep the peace a little easier

I think she knows, and it bring up, does she tell?

I mean she should right, to protect her father and her littlest brother and everyone really, she should tell, it’s the right choice

But natsuo is her little brother too, and to protect him she has to keep quiet, what does she do

I think she probably tries to reason with natsuo, maybe not to incriminate himself but to stop, he’s not in too deep yet (she hopes) he can get out, even if they reveal his identity it won’t be hard to spin up that he was under duress or being manipulated, they can fix it

But he doesn’t want that, he doesn’t want to stop and he certainly doesn’t want to cover his own ass and hang the others out to fry, and he tries to explain it to her, why he has to do this

And she gets it, she really does, the desire to hurt their father for everything he’s done, to burn the system that let him do it, to hate everything that he is, everything that made him and everything that he’s made, she gets it, probably more than anyone else, more than natsuo even knows (cause after all, she’s fuyumi, how could she hate so deeply to know his, how could she hate so much and still do what she does)

But it can’t be worth this, it can’t be worth so many innocent lives, can it?

She should tell, she knows she should, she can make the perfect argument for it too, in her head, she’s protecting her father, Shouto, every innocent hero, student, and civillian that will be caught in the crossfire of their war, and natsuo wont back down, he won’t stop, he’ll keep pushing and pushing until he’s in the middle of this stupid fight too, he’ll get hurt, in the long run it’ll be so much worse for him too if she doesn’t tell, so she should, and she knows it, she knows all the reasons it’s the right choice

But there’s a burning feeling, an ache in her chest she’d thought she’d long since filled with ice, for the fire Touya bared to the world, for the kindness that used to live in their fathers eyes, for the life in their mothers, for the innocent in all of them, and that fire in her heart she’d buried beneath the glaciers in her lungs forcing her to bite her tongue, it burns for something, something some would call vengeance, and others would call justice, it’s the same thing really, for her at least, isn’t it? And she wants to consume the world in that fire, her father, the commission, the society that lets women be bought, children be bred in a lab, abused and killed by men who will never see the consequences, and then be sent to a war they had no part in starting, canon fodder, pawns on a board so big they’ll never find the edge, and certainly not the people moving them, she wants all of it to burn, and burn and burn, until it burns itself out, and all the ashes are lost, buried beneath a layer of fresh snow, that melts to water new grass and flowers, things that have never known war, or pain or abuse like she has, things new and untouched by everything that’s tainted them

So maybe she doesn’t tell, because she knows it’s the right thing, but, what if, this one time she didn’t do the right thing?

And Shouto can’t know, he just can’t, he’s too good, to perfect, to heroic, he wouldn’t understand, he didn’t feel what they all felt, not really, even fuyumi, who natsuo trusted but was never totally sure of when it came to stuff like this (but for some reason Dabi knew, he would have gone under oath, sworn against all but his name, that she wouldn’t tell, because natsuo knew fuyumi the big sister, but Touya knew fuyumi the girl) she understood something that Shouto just didn’t, couldn’t, not the way he was now, he never really took much notice of his siblings oddities anyway, I mean, how was he to know if they were really oddities at all

Obviously Endeavor doesn’t get to know until they want him to, until they can hurt them the most with it, but neither does rei, cause she was a victim too, but maybe they can’t get over it, maybe they can’t accept that she keeps choosing him, and even if she didn’t, they can’t trust her, not really, because they don’t know her, not really, no one does I don’t think, because they know rei the mom, rei the wife, rei the patient, but none of those are her are they?

So they get to it, the dance, when all is revealed to the world, and sure Endeavor looks shocked, and natsuo tries to, and wow when did he become such a good liar, fuyumi was alone when she saw it on tv, she didn’t have anyone to pretend for, and she didn’t, she didn’t look shocked, she didn’t look knowing either, she looked… not sad, sad wasn’t the word for it, maybe resigned? Resigned to it, because she knew, she didn’t know of course, no one could have, but she’d see the photos of Dabi posted everywhere, seen the footage, and those were her eyes, and that was the way Touya used to throw the first punch, and that scar hidden by all the others, it was older, and fuyumi remembered laughing at her big brother for tripping over a ball while she pushed a bandaid over just the same spot, so no she didn’t know, but if she honest she did

And when the big moment finally came, natsuo stood with fuyumi, but they both had this strange look of calm to themselves, not quite the panicked civilian they should have been, and when she stood together and wielded their “weak” quirks they were so strong, strong enough to stand behind their older brother, strong enough to cool him off and coat his limbs in fuyumis frost, while natsuo made every effort to blast their father back, it may not have been obvious to an outsider who’s side they stood on, but to the todorokis it was more than clear who, what, they’d chosen

Endeavor didn’t die that day, but neither did Touya, he would go to prison for a long time, but with twice weekly visitations he doubted he’d be lonely

Natsuo and fuyumi made the wrong choice this time, and if anyone can ever prove it beyond their family’s word, then they’ll be in matching outfits with their big brother, but maybe that’s not the worst thing in the world, because for once, their wrong choice finally felt right, they felt free

Honestly, I think it would have been really interesting if Natsuo had been the traitor.

He had a hell of a motive. Older brother is killed in a tragic accident brought about because of their father, younger brother is abused by their father, mother is institutionalized because of his father, and Endeavor faces justice for absolutely none of it.

All of a sudden this news broadcast showing Stain yelling for the public to open their eyes to the false heroes among them happens...just saying, that could have appealed to more than one of the Todoroki siblings.

And with Shouto a UA student, that places Natsuo in a prime position to potentially gather information about classes on and off campus. He wouldn't be an active member of the LoV; he's just the mole. It might be a stretch to say he wanted Shouto in harm's way, but if you remember that Shouto was exhibiting the exact same anger and arrogance Endeavor had, there was room for a narrative where Natsuo reached a, "Fuck, now there's two of them," mentality and didn't care what happened to him. And that only expands on the betrayal. Shouto realizes he's on a path to become his father, then starts trying to reconnect with his mother and estranged siblings. Natsuo doesn't even have to approach him to form a connection.

...

Shouto: Why did you do this?

Natsuo: If you had any original thoughts of your own, you'd have done it, too. But I guess it's not your fault Endeavor raised you to be a puppet.

Shouto: This isn't who you are.

Natsuo: *not even anger at this point, just pity* Are you sure? Can you say with any certainty that you know any of your siblings? Or am I just the one who went to college, Fuyumi is the one who cooks, and Touya is the one who died?

[sczne]

girl are you taking requests cause that last fic HOLYYYYY

ate so hard

if you are can i request semi x gf reader fluff&smut alphabet? (in a normal au, not squid games)

➤ nsfw alphabet.

implied: nsfw pairing: se-mi / player 380 x fem!reader word count: 1.3k note: heeeyyyy, yeah i'm taking reqss mainly for our girlies. alsoo here it iss, i'm not sure if this is exactly what u asked for, but i hope u enjoy it regardless<3 (i spent a whole day brainstorming, and i also did not proof read)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

she’s extremely caring when it comes to aftercare with you, a stark contrast too. she’ll usually bring you a bottle of water, maybe a snack and a lot of cuddles, 一 i’ll say that she sometimes wants to continue, but if you don’t, she won’t push it but if she doesn’t want to, you won’t push her either. maybe shower sex if you’re still in the mood and if you just wanna wash up, she’s okay with that too.

usually se-mi lets you have all the water to yourself but you frown at her way of thinking so the times she brings you a bottle of water and when you finish your turn of drinking, you press the sealing surface against her lips. this action causes her to turn her head towards you, looking away from the tv looking for a movie for the two of you, raising her eyebrow with a small smile “what’s wrong, baby?” furrowing your eyebrows you try pressing further emphasizing for her to drink the water 一 “drink.” 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

boobs. but you already knew that. and it’s too obvious, she’ll steal a glance at any given opportunity, but aside from that, she loves laying on top of your chest just to listen to your heartbeat and probably your collarbones or inner thighs, she’s a sucker for those places, leaving marks whether you let her or not (but if u really say no, she won’t leave any) and only because she just really likes watching you struggle trying to cover them up and usually teases you about it.

on se-mi, it’s definitely her hands, she loves the way your eyes follow every movement, from fingers to the palm 一 her hand in general just staring with your mouth agape as she traces the lip piercing with her index finger, teases you about it too she uses the same hand to point at her eyes, snapping you out of your trance realizing you’ve been caught, “eyes up here, baby, you’re not even gonna be discreet about it?” she teases.

and obviously because of how your body reacts when the cold rings come in contact with your warm skin, especially when they’re sliding up to your inner thigh or a simple slide of her hand down your side when her hand is underneath the fabric of your shirt and you usually grip her wrist to stop her from doing anything else because you’re in public or in the middle of something.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

like i said, se-mi’s hands am i right hahaha,,,, 😻一 she enjoys the sight of seeing your juices covering her fingers, before locking eyes with you through half-lidded eyes, licking her own hand clean as she watches you cover your mouth with the back of your hand, still breathless, sucking in as much air as you could with your chest heaving.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

collars. (open for discussion) something in se-mi finds it arousing about you or herself in a collar with any of the two of you being in control of the chain, visualizing you harshly or gently tugging her towards you or between your legs has her swallowing hard.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

definitely experienced, a decent amount of experience, she’s more than willing to experience new and other things with you.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. doggy. OR LITERALLY ANYTHING. as long as your legs are up on her shoulders. 😽

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

no, huge nono for her, she tends to cherish these moments of vulnerability with you.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

i'd say she’s pretty well groomed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

i like to think that se-mi gets this natural habit with you during these moments where she brings up your hand using her own hand while she’s hovering on top of you, kissing the palm of your hand, or letting the palm of your hand simply brush against the cool metal of her piercing along with the feel of her lips, maintaining eye contact with you with half-lidded eyes, with her breath fanning over your hand, murmuring a low “i love you.” 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

i think it depends, to se-mi i don’t think it’s necessary when she has you. 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

she definitely has many, from degrading to praising, dirty talking, but i wanna assume temperature play, this idea mainly based off of how you react when her nose piercing nudges slightly at your inner thigh when she leaves marks and kisses, and let’s not forget when she eats you out.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

probably anywhere as long as you give her the green light, but she’s definitely more into the moment when it’s private.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

se-mi gets turned on by your reactions, your sounds get her going, but it definitely turns her on when you playfully or gently bite her lip piercing mid kiss.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything that involves hurting you or that leads you to cry, these are also the reason why se-mi insists you have a safe-word.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

yes, huge YES. i don’t have to explain this. she loves it, having your legs up on her shoulders, watching your reactions, her hand sliding down your side with the feel of her silver rings makes you shiver under her touch, her other hand tightens its hold on your upper thigh to hold you in place and idly tracing patterns on it.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on her mood, and yours of course.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

se-mi likes them more than she’d like to admit to you, a little often if you’re in a rush or a limited amount of time, they sometimes turn into an all nighter.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

you don’t risk, you don’t win, she doesn’t care, not a single flying fuck, unless you really say no, she’ll behave.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

she’ll give into as many as you want, but she’d be dead beat after all of it and definitely suggests breaks. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

strap. and definitely others like vibrators and cuffs (maybe. does a blindfold count?)

she’d mainly use them on you, but if you insist she’ll oblige.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

depends on her mood, very unfair most of the time though, teasing is like breathing for her.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

pretty quiet, sometimes muffled by your neck, but the times she’s vocal is just moans, pants and heavy breathing.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

sexting, nudes or films if you allow her.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

she probably has piercings in other places. but that’s just me though…

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

decently high i’d say, depends on where her teasing leads to.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it’s a 50/50 with se-mi, depends, sometimes she just stays there cuddled up with you tracing lazy patterns on your thigh while you sleep, making you stir in your sleep. that, or she sleeps like she’s dead. (no pun intended 😿)

©sczne

[nothoughtsjustfic]

The Only Exception - J.WW

🐆Who: Jeon Wonwoo (Seventeen) x reader 🐆What: Dark themes. Fantasy. Clouded leopard hybrid Wonwoo. Mafia reader. 🐆Word count: 3.9k 🐆Warnings: Hybrid slavery is a big theme, including collars/leashes. Multiple references to bad diet/malnutrition etc. Mentions of sex slaves, not shown or portrayed. Reader is a big-time thug and is not actually a good person at the end of the day. Mentions of previously being shot & resulting injury. Drugs, legal and illegal(vaguely) mentioned. Reader takes painkillers but that’s the only drug use portrayed. 🐆Summary: “Even violent thugs have boundaries; things they won’t do, lines they won’t cross. Slavery is yours. Yet all it takes for you to bulldoze right over your own line is one particularly pathetic looking clouded leopard hybrid.”

Masterlist

A/N- Shoutout and love to @junkissed for suggesting leopard hybrid Wonwoo and essentially being the reason that we get pretty clouded leopard hybrid Wonwoo 😘

And thank you to my beabie @ourdawnishotterthanourday for helping me with the summary and reading over this for me 💗

When it comes down to it, you know who you are; you know your flaws, your cruelties. You know that in the eyes of many, you are not a good person.

There’s no way you can be considered anything close to pure hearted and you aren’t delusional about it; you know you can be a cold-hearted bastard when it comes down to it, and that’s why you’re one of top ranked members of Kang’s Hellhounds, despite your obvious differences to the rest of the inner circle.

You’ve killed, you’ve tortured, you’ve stolen and claimed, and a whole list of other depraved things too.

So, you’re not a good person at your root, and you’re never going to deny that.

But what you also know about yourself is that you don’t approve of this shit.

As much as you wish you never have to attend these vile displays and biddings, you don’t have a choice when the big boss demands your presence at his side. You’ve avoided being dragged along for the past few years, blissfully always caught up with more important manners than helping the boss pick out his next fancy.

Yet tonight, lady luck decided to spit in your face after already fucking you over this morning by getting you shot in the shoulder and banned from your usual work for the next few weeks. On bed rest, so to say.

If bed rest means being forced to attend a fucking hybrid auction, that is.

Technically, hybrids can be their own people; they can legally get jobs, own houses, have their own families and nobody can stop them, provided their owner grants them their freedom. Something like a sock in a book, but more watertight.

But with how fucked up humanity as race is in general, it’s no surprise that it’s uncommon to see an uncollared hybrid wandering around without being a runaway from one of these depraved auction homes, or an equally as depraved human who wants to fulfil their sick perversions with a hybrid sex slave.

So, if it were down to you, you’d be at home cursing the asshole who shot you and got you off the work rota for the following weeks until the gang physician deems you fit enough to go back to breaking bones and collecting money.

Yet here you are, almost shoulder to shoulder with the boss man on the fancy leather couch as you both watch hybrid after hybrid getting walked around the room on collared shock leashes, wearing nothing more than skimpy little lingerie to show off their too-weak-to-fight-back bodies. Just how these sick fucks like ‘em.

“What about that one?” Mr Kang asks, motioning to a female hybrid with a bushy tail and big ears atop her head, wide eyes downturned to the floor in submissive fear as she’s strutted past the VIP booth you’re located in; one of the perks of Mr Kang being one of the biggest supporters of this particular establishment.

You have to admit, it’s not as bad as you thought; the place is clean, smells fresh without being overpowered by artificial fragrances clearly hiding something festering behind the scenes. The staff are friendly without being in your face and loathe to admit it, the hybrids are impeccably clean.

It’s just a shame the whole business is a fucking shit show of human morality, even for a bloodthirsty thug like you, it’d be quite the investment opportunity otherwise. They clearly know how to run a successful business.

“Too timid,” you reply after making eye contact with the female for barely a split second before she squeaks at your harsh stare and looks away. “You need more fight; I know what you’re like, dirty old bastard.”

Mr Kang guffaws and slaps a hand on your thigh with his laughter. He naturally moves it away quickly though and that’s at least one thing you can say for the dirty old bastard; he learns his lessons and has never held the vicious, misshapen scar and half missing finger on his right hand against you.

If anything, you think getting stabbed by your hidden knife had only made him like you more. At least it’s more in a professional, borderline friendly way.

“You’re right, you’re right. I like ‘em feisty. Submissive is boring, huh?” He nudges you playfully. “You know what I mean; I’ve heard enough about your own bedroom habits to know we’re similar in more than just our work ethic, kid.”

“Weird you say you know my sex life then call me kid in the same breath,” you point out. He just laughs, already focused on the next hybrid being trotted past like a show pony.

Actually, this one might be part pony based on the ears and tail.

Nevertheless, they’re not what your boss wants so the lack of interest has the pony hybrid moved along quicker.

There’s a little commotion a few booths away all of a sudden, causing you to get to your feet and move ready to protect Mr Kang, if need be, it’s your purpose for being by his side, after all.

No personal guards are allowed at the auction house, only a single pre-approved plus one, and you had been approved long before you even knew of the place, or your bosses want to have you attend with him.

You still don’t know why exactly he wants you of all people here so much when he knows you don’t like beings having no right to their own freedom, such as these hybrid slaves, but you can’t bite the hand that feeds and all that.

Mr Kang respects you and it’s definitely mutual for the most part, you don’t always agree on matters, but he never pushes too hard, and he trusts your advice in a range of subjects; he’s good to you, for a violent gang boss, so you’re loyal to him. Will do almost anything he asks of you without question. Doesn’t mean you like it though.

“What’s going on?” You ask a staff member walking past with another hybrid, this one a young thing, maybe barely legal and you stand in the path of your boss’ vision, so he doesn’t see the defiant glint in the hybrid’s eyes.

You know Mr Kang would love this one, but he really does look far too young; you can’t face seeing his bruised body limping around the Kang house for the whole gang to leer at and claim once the boss is bored of him.

“I’m not sure,” the staff replies respectfully and glances over to where another staff member is standing with their leash let off further to allow the people in the booth to pull the hybrid closer to inspect. “I think they like the hybrid.”

“Sounds violent for like.”

“Many showed interest in that particular hybrid in the preshow.”

You nod in understanding and make a motion for them to hurry on past. Once the staff has politely and obediently bowed a little, they quickly move along with the hybrid before Mr Kang truly gets more than a glance at the boy’s side profile.

“He looked pretty,” he comments, silently questioning why you motioned them on.

“He wouldn’t last,” you reply, even if you have no idea if the boy would’ve lasted long in the hands of Mr Kang, but you really don’t want to find out.

“Ah, getting me more bang for my buck, huh?” He jokes, making you look at him with a flat expression. Though his dumbass grin makes you break and let out a short laugh at his joke before you turn back around as you hear steps nearing.

Your heart breaks a little at the sight of the terrifyingly skinny male being walked in your direction, tiny boxers wonky and his hair a mess with red lines over his pale bare skin. Clearly the booth down the way had really been handsy with him and you struggle to try and recall if that’s against the rules.

Before you know it, the staff and the hybrid are starting to walk past you.

The hybrid glances up, noticing someone standing by the edge and you notice his broad shoulders tense, hands balling into tight fists ready to be assaulted again. Dark, bloodshot eyes meet your gaze and something about them, something about this hybrid really pulls on your heartstrings, maybe it’s because he looks so fucking pathetic compared to the others.

Sure, none of the hybrids are strong or fed more than necessary, none of them do more than pass the bottom level of health checks, yet this one, he looks like he’d lose a fight with a feather pillow, fuck that, a lone feather. You have no idea how he’s even upright right now.

Silently, you hold up your hand, signalling the staff to stop and they do, tugging on the leash to pull the hybrid back. He chokes a little and you wince slightly as he flails to fall into obedient place before you.

“This is the one causing the commotion?” You ask, eyeing the hybrid; the rounded tips of dark backed ears sticking out from his messy hair atop his hair, the long tail mostly wrapped around his own waist to keep it out of the way, and perhaps out of reach of grabby potential buyers. You know hybrids’ tails are very sensitive, just like their ears, so you don’t blame this pretty man for protecting himself where he can.

It’s clear to see why there’s been commotion about him, because although his bones protrude and his skin is borderline sickly in the low lighting, he’s fucking beautiful.

Though you know his almost skeletal figure will be a selling point to many; too frail to defend himself.

“We’ve had much interest already in this hybrid,” the man behind the hybrid states.

“I see why,” you hum and tense almost imperceptibly when Mr Kang’s curiosity wins out and he approaches to stand at your shoulder and peer at the hybrid.

“Oh, have you picked my prize?” He chortles, patting a hand on your shoulder, approval.

“No,” you reply and before you can logically think about it, you carry on, saying the only thing you think will stop your boss from claiming this runt of a hybrid for himself. “This one’s mine.”

It’s not until you’re in your apartment an hour later, slouched defeatedly on your couch with the hybrid standing awkwardly off to the side and watching you through his lashes in fear of what is coming next, that you talk to him for the first time.

“I know you expect something here, but it’s not going to happen. I have no interest in fucking owning another living being, I don’t even want an animal for a pet.” You look at the hybrid and you’re not at all surprised to find his expression twisted in confusion, at least, what you can see of it with his head angled mostly downwards. “You don’t have to do that shit either, I’m not your superior, we’re just…roommates.”

“What?” It’s the first thing he’s said, and you’re thrown off by how deep his voice is. It’s rough too, from disuse or maybe his poor health. You have no fucking idea how biology works, human or animal, you just know how to use it to your advantage and other’s disadvantage. And this, this doesn’t fit into either of those categories.

You have no idea what category spontaneously buying a hybrid to prevent some sick fuck buying and breaking him like a cheap toy, fits into.

Not that this hybrid was cheap at all, apparently, he’s some kind of rare hybrid type so you had to fork out a big chunk of money on buying the bastard. And you know he’s only going to cost you a shit ton more for the foreseeable future, at least until he’s in a good enough condition that you feel you can give him freedom and you won’t see him keeled over in the closest alleyway come morning.

“What?” You return.

“R-roommates?”

“Yeah, not literally, you can have the…shit which one is clean?” You mutter, glancing over to the hallway. “I don’t know, but one of the guest rooms I cleaned somewhat recently so you can have that one. I think it’s the closest one.”

“My own room?”

“Yep,” you look at him and now you are surprised because he’s looking at you head on with wide eyes of disbelief, yet there’s something starting to shine there. It’s pretty. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything suited to you, nothing with holes for your tail or special soaps or combs or any of that shit, I don’t even know if the guest clothes are even in there anymore, but we can handle that tomorrow. Tonight, I just want to take some drugs and go the fuck to bed.”

“Drugs?” He winces a little and looks down, fingers fiddling with the fur of his long tail. Only now that you’re home in decent lighting and paying proper attention to the still scantily clad man can you notice the oddly shaped blotches on his tail in shades of yellowish brown and slightly faded black, like his ears.

“Hey, what kind of hybrid are you again?” You wonder suddenly.

“I-I’m a clouded l-leopard.”

“Huh, I’ll have to research that I guess.” You get to your feet and motion for him to follow you to the kitchen. “Do you cook?”

“N-no. Nobody taught me.”

“Well, shit, I don’t know either. Do you want to learn? One of my friends owns a café; he hires hybrids. It’s kind of like a fetish thing, I won’t lie, but not necessarily because it’s hybrids because there’s humans too, all serving wearing those like anime maid outfits. Basically, my friend and his hybrid are freaks, but they’re good guys and are fucking incredible cooks. When you’re less likely to keel over from lifting a pan, I’ll ask them to teach you if you want to learn?”

The hybrid just stares dumbly at you; something you don’t even realise he’s doing until you look up from pulling the medicine box out of the cupboard.

“What?”

“Your friend hires hybrids?” You nod. “And…his hybrid cooks?”

“I say his hybrid but he’s his own man, got his freedom like two years ago but they’re grossly in love so they’re each other’s and I’m happy for them, just wish they’d stop calling me mid sex because they get off of being yelled at.”

“Maybe stop yelling at them?” He suggests awkwardly.

“It’s just easier to go along with it at this point, they’re relentless bastards. And they supply most of my meals so calling them pathetic and swearing at them while they get off for a few moments isn’t the worst. At least they don’t video call anymore. That shit’s traumatic, I can tell you that much.”

“Right.”

“Mm.”

He watches as you take a few painkillers with almost a whole pint of water before putting everything away neatly.

“Is-is that the drugs you meant?” He asks when you’re facing him again.

“I got shot this morning; I won’t be able to sleep without the painkillers.”

“You got shot?!” He sputters with wide eyes. “How?”

“Do you actually want to know how?” You give him a raised eyebrow look, silently telling him that it isn’t a simple, innocent tale with the serious set of your features. He blinks at you a few times then shakes his head. “Thought not. You thought I meant illegal drugs, I take it?”

“Uhm, yeah. I just…people usually say medicine for legal kind, or-or painkillers.”

“Ah, okay, valid, I get it, but I call pretty much all of it drugs. If it’s designed to do something to your body, it’s a drug.”

“Vitamins?”

“Okay, once again, valid. Not those. But speaking of, we’re gonna have to get you on a shit load of those. Do you even eat?”

“Uhm…yeah.”

“Bullshit. You look like you’d be scared by a full meal. We’ll work you up to it. When you’re healthy and ready, I’ll give you your freedom and you can-”

“What?!” He gasps, almost choking on his own limited saliva as he baulks at you with eyes bulging so big you think it must hurt. “My-my freedom?” You nod. “You bought me jus-just to give me freedom?”

“I don’t want you.”

“But you bought me!”

“Yeah, so some other sick fuck didn’t. Look at you, they’d break you and get off on it.”

“You bought me to protect me?” The expression on his face changes, from disbelief to something that’s starting to look too awed to be good for your poor, twisted, lonely soul.

“Shut up,” you warn, pointing a finger at him. “Don’t get it fucked, buddy, you’re pathetic, okay, I see you like an abused, caged animal that needs rehabilitation before being sent into the wild with the hope it won’t die in days. We’re not friends and you don’t owe me shit either. We’re just two people sharing a spare until one gets better and leaves. Think of this as a halfway home to the rest of your life, okay?”

“I-”

“Okay?” You reiterate firmly, he closes his mouth and slowly nods his head in understanding and agreement. “Great, wonderful, now follow me so I can show you to your room and then you can do whatever the fuck you want until I’m up; sleep, eat, bathe, watch TV, I don’t fucking care, just don’t break shit or wake me up unless it’s an emergency, understand?” He nods again. “Great.”

Once you’ve shown the man to the guest bedroom that you think you recently cleaned, it smells clean enough at least, and shown him how the shower in his ensuite works, you leave him to it to go to your own bedroom, shower, then promptly pass the fuck out on top of your sheets.

When you wake, you’ve forgotten all about going to the hybrid auction and bringing one back home with you; all you can focus on is the intense pain in your left shoulder and the need to remedy that as soon as fucking possible.

“What the fuck?” You mutter when you walk into your kitchen and notice a plate of almost burnt bacon on the counter with a man desperately trying to waft the smoke out of the open window.

“I’m sorry!” He exclaims and quickly drops to his knees where he lowers his forehead head directly to the tiles.

“What the fuck? I don’t know when these floors were last washed, get the fuck up!”

He scrambles to lift onto his hands, but he doesn’t get up, legs still tucked under him and dressed in clothes that hang loosely off his body, almost slipping off his bony frame if not for his broad shoulders keeping the shirt over his torso.

It’s only now as you fully register the ears poking out of his hair that it all comes back to you at once.

“Oh, shit, I bought you last night,” you mutter, eyes growing wide. He peers at you from under his lashes and nods timidly. “I completely forgot,” you admit and walk over to tug him up to his feet with your good arm so that you can step past him and flick the switch to activate the fan to suction the slightly smoky air out. “I guess I forgot to get the smoke detector fixed too.”

“It went off,” he admits, watching incredulously as you ignore his mistake and instead focus on dosing yourself with the strongest painkillers in your collection.

You make a mental note to get more of the not exactly over the counter painkillers. So maybe you had lied to the hybrid last night about the exact legalities of your painkillers, they’re not illegal per se, they just aren’t exactly on your prescription either.

“I turned it off, so it didn’t wake you…it…I didn’t wake you, did I? I know you said not to!”

“No, my arm did,” you motion to your left shoulder vaguely. “Hey, do you know anything about wounds?”

“Uhm, a little, why?”

“Can you change dressing? I can’t reach the back one well and I should’ve really done it last night.”

“I can do it!” He assures and scrambles over with wide eyes, ready to help.

“Are you always this plucky first thing in the morning?”

“I’m naturally nocturnal, I haven’t slept yet.”

“Oh.”

“Is…is that a problem? I can change my schedule and sleep at the same time as you!” He promises eagerly. “I can do whatever you need me to!”

“What the fuck? No, just be yourself, I don’t need you to be anyone but you, whoever that is.” You wave a dismissive hand before using it to pull out different items from the medical supply bag always stored right beside the medicine box. “That reminds me, who the fuck are you?” You look at him.

“Uhm…you bought me last night-” he reminds with a puzzled yet concerned look on his face, as if he thinks you have some kind of brain trauma going on preventing you from developing short term memories, or making you lose them.

“No, I know that. I meant your name.”

“You don’t know my name?” He whispers.

“No.”

“But you signed the papers, you have my legal documents.”

“I was just interested in getting you out of there, I figured the details can come later.”

“I think my name is a bit more than just a detail,” as if you prove his point, he emphasises your name when he says it at the end of his sentence and moves closer to carefully help you pull your pyjama shirt sleeve from your bandaged shoulder once you’ve opened enough of the buttons.

You notice that he keeps his eyes on the bandages and not your almost exposed chest. It’s kinda cute; the clear effort he’s making to not look at your uncovered skin.

You huff a laugh, both at his sassy response and his extreme focus. “Alright, then you better tell me before I introduce you to my friends as the pretty clouded leopard hybrid.”

The way his cheek’s flush shyly is impossible to hide, it’s such a rush of red over pale skin that even as he turns to wash his hands at the skin, you can see the colour creeping around the back of his neck. “W-Wonwoo.”

“Mm, what’s that, pretty?”

“My name’s Wonwoo!” He squeaks and you somehow prevent your amused snicker from becoming audible, even if you’re still smirking when he turns to you almost a full minute later after he’s done scrubbing his hands and drying them thoroughly.

“Alright, Wonwoo, let’s see if you make a good nurse or not,” you muse and motion to your shoulder in invitation as you lean your right hip against the counter.

He takes a moment to breathe, then determinedly moves forward to get to work carefully picking at the edges of tape holding bloodied gauze down to your skin.

As you silently watch Wonwoo’s delicate features scrunch with concentration, and perhaps a bit of a shortsighted squint, you think that although you’ve always sworn that you’ll never buy a hybrid, there’s always an exception to the rule and you might be soon glad that this pretty clouded leopard hybrid is yours.

At least, you’re willing to give yourself the chance to find out.

Don’t forget to reblog if you liked to help spread the story and let others read it too! And don't be shy to leave comments or send an ask so I can see your thoughts 🥺 💖

Permanent taglist: @okiedokrie, @tusswrites, @svtiddiess

[nopaintjustpain]

Oculus: *doing a threat display @ Elias*

Elias speaking in Baby voice: aww are you gonna pluck my eyes out?? Who’s the big scary predator? You are!! Why yes you are!! Look at you so poofy! What’s got you all worked up, huh sweetheart?

(It’s fine, he knows Oculus is just playing.)

(Lore under the cut)

Elias has a huge soft spot for this Creature after enjoying its companionship for 200 years. It’s traditionally the companion of the Archivist and has been since the time of Alexandria, but the thing is fond of him too. It gets lonely, losing its Archivist every couple decades, and Elias is its longest lived friend. Also, Gertrude spent the last 50 years rejecting it :( She kicked it out of the Archives and refused to have anything to do with it, so it sulked in Elias’s office for a couple decades.

Elias got used to having it around. Then Jon came along and suddenly Elias is yesterday’s news. Elias can understand the appeal for Oculus — finally, an Archivist that loves it back after being chased away from its Archives for 50 years, and Jon is so primed and ready and perfect to be Beholding’s next avatar, so of course this Creature which is a pure manifestation of Beholding would be interested in Jon — but he MISSES HIS CAT GODDAMNIT. They’re about to get into an UGLY custody battle.

(Elias refuses to even call the cat Oculus because he thinks the name Jon gave it is very silly. It’s a timeless ageless aspect of fear?? It doesn’t need a name?? It pisses him off SO bad that “”Oculus””answers to the name. Him hissing under his breath at it like ‘this is beneath you!!’ while Oculus gets belly rubs and treats because Yes I Am A Normal Cat Thank You Please Love On Me

You know who else is loves that thing? Michael 👀

Oculus’s preferred method of feeding, besides fetching the Archivist fresh Statements of course, is to stalk and Watch someone until they start to question their own sanity. Surely that can’t be the same stray cat watching you at both home and work. You’re on vacation in Mexico, that is NOT the same cat. It’s totally normal that that cat is watching you, right? Like, completely unblinkingly. You never see it move but one minute it’s watching you from somebody’s garden wall and then when you pass out of sight and round the corner now it’s watching you from someone’s porch and when did it get past you?? Also the owl perched on the tree outside your window at night can’t be the same as that cat but maybe they’re in cahoots (pun intended) because you SWEAR it has the same eyes and the damn thing won’t just LOOK AWAY FOR TWO SECONDS. You’re changing clothes in your room with the curtains drawn and you swear you can feel its eyes on you. Then you turn around and there’s a cat on your bed and you DON’T HAVE A CAT. But it’s watching you, purring lazily, and there’s a door in your room that you don’t remember being there, which the cat entered through. Surely you just forgot that you got a cat. Yes, that must be it. You lay down for bed and the cat — a sweet, cuddly thing — drapes itself on your chest, purring the entire time, and GOD it’s heavy, so heavy you can barely expand your chest to breathe under its weight, and it won’t stop staring at you. You’ve never seen it blink. Surely you’re losing your mind.

(Michael and Oculus take turns with the victims depending on what the person ends up most afraid of: the so-called “”cat”” itself, or the certainty that they’re losing their mind. Sometimes Oculus plucks their eyes out and eats them, then sucks the dreams from their head like marrow from a bone. Other times Oculus tempts them into Michael’s door with the most adorable little meows. Michael is always polite and drops his little friend back off in the Magnus Institute with a careful scratch behind the ears.)

Michael Shelley remembers that cat. He never pet it when he was Gertrude’s assistant, Gertrude barred everyone from interacting with it and some quiet primal instinct told him to listen to her. But he left out tuna for it and he never chased it away. And now that he’s the Distortion he gives the GOOD scritches. Plus, the little guy has quite the impish sense of humor! Whenever it wants to go somewhere it can’t easily fly to, it’ll meow plaintively at a blank stretch of wall until a door appears to take it to an ideal ambush site from which to prank its next victim (or Elias or the archival staff). It’s a symbiotic Eye & Spiral relationship!

Meanwhile the Archival staff do Not understand why Jon is so unconcerned by the “”cat””. They’ve seen the shapes its body makes when it’s half in shadow, out the corner of their eye. Felt the Weight of its gaze. They don’t like its strange eyes. Don’t like the way it follows Jon around. But he’s so smitten with the thing, and it acts so Normal around him like it’s trying not to scare him away.

Occulus, the weird cat that belongs to the Archives acting as it's ever watchful guardian. It's a very normal cat, we swear. (With @nopaintjustpain~~)

[chimivx]

gimme gimme gimme 3 -> mingi x fem!reader -> nice for what

wc: 8.4k warnings: 18+, sexual content and alcohol consumption in every part, infidelity themes... if i missed anything please let me know! posted: 1/19/25 12:22 pm est.

masterlist ~ <- previous part - next part ->

“I’m deadass, look at this,” Yuna said from the end of the blue sofa, extending her wrist over Aurora’s lap. Mouth popping open, no words to be spoken, Aurora takes her hand and lifts it higher, bringing the diamonds closer to her face.

“How much was it?” Aurora mumbled, glancing at Yuna and her natural chocolate waves flowing down her back. “Did he tell you? I guess he didn’t, right? That’s not a thing.” Shouts flooded out of the doorway of the gameroom, all of the boys but one holed up in there, crinkling cans and busting each other's asses over the simplest of losses.

Yuna shook her head blinking her round eyes toward both of you, though you weren’t paying attention. “He didn’t, but Ryujin and I tried to look it up, ‘cause it’s an Olivietta, and it must be custom or something, because we can’t find it anywhere, but all of Olivietta’s shit like this is like five thousand dollars.” 

Aurora’s jaw dropped further than before, her entire being in shock. “You’re lying,” she whispered, her voice still audible over the music playing. Yuna, proud as ever, smiled and shook her head. Your best friend whirled herself around to look at you, Yuna’s hand still in hers, but you were focused on your phone, typing away, a mile a minute. “Are you seeing this, Tor? Jongho bought her this.” You hummed in response, not lifting your eyes from your screen. “For an end of year gift.”

“It’s so pretty,” you muttered, hitting send on a message, missing the way your friends' faces fell before they turned back to speak to one another.

“What have you guys been doing, you’ve got three days on us now, how’s the beach?” Yuna’s smile met her eyes, her and Aurora sitting backward on the couch, falling into a conversation that seemed to exclude you. 

It didn’t matter, you were busy.

For three days this number hasn’t left you alone. The messages came in at random, at random times, there wasn’t a strategy to the way this person moved making it increasingly impossible to figure out who they could be, where they could be, and what their motive was. For three days you’ve ignored Jongseob, whether it be at the beach while him and his friends hung out with yours, sat close by, drank with them- You ignored him.

He did very little to get your attention much to your surprise, he didn’t act like he did if he were within the walls of ATZ. You did have more freedom around the frat, around your own sorority, without Mingi, that is. Oftentimes Jongseob nagged you when he wasn’t around, and ultimately while lying on a beach beside him, he didn’t have the means to get under your skin. At least not while your boyfriend lounged next you, knowing that little leech would swoop in if he left you alone.

But, that could be why he’s texting you like this. Secretively. So he could talk to you around the boyfriend, like one of his messages had said.

If it was him. The person wouldn’t give it up.

[you]: but you still won’t give me a name.

You’ve gotten sneaky. The day after the notification settings were changed, you added a name to the contact, one that would go unnoticed by Mingi if he were to glance over while you were texting. It would protect you from anyone questioning actually, you felt like a proper genius.

[ITZ]: its more fun this way

[ITZ]: wyd right now

[you]: sitting around with my girls. 

[ITZ]: oooooh. which girls

[ITZ]: told them abt me yet?

[you]: why the fuck would i tell anyone about you???

“Hwa!” 

Both Yuna and Aurora cheered aloud, their voices echoing up into the stretch of a ceiling pulling you away from your screen. He was tipping sideways, Seonghwa was, with a bottle in his hand. Baggy jeans hung low on his hips and the cropped t-shirt he wore exposed a strip of golden skin above the Calvin Klein strap around his waist. Drunk, eyes glazed over, a silly smile on his perfectly full lips, your friends gushed over him to make him blush, and he did.

Cheeks going pink, he squatted down in front of the table in the center of the couches, wobbling as he did, and he poured liquor into stray shot glasses littering the wooden table top. His hair laid naturally over his head, messy, wavy, longer than ever. Dragging his slender, knobby fingers through it, as if to flash you all a delicious look of his face, he gave you all a lazy smile. 

“How are the games?” Yuna asked, animating her voice to make him laugh. She leaned forward over her lap, and Seonghwa beamed.

Slapping his hands to the table, he said, “So much fun.”

She tossed her hair around as she spoke. “Enjoy them,” she grinned.

“Thank you,” Seonghwa’s cheeks grew squishy as his smile deepened.

“No, Hwa,” Aurora cooed, holding up one of the shot glasses, “Thank you.”

The three of them took their shots together, Seonghwa and Aurora watching one another as they did. He stood after smacking the glass onto the table and left her with a wink, Yuna gasping the moment he was out of earshot. 

She jumped in her place, grabbing onto Aurora any way she could. “You know what I constantly think about?”

You leaned forward and grabbed the glass Seonghwa poured for you.

Aurora groaned with a grin, tipping her head backward, letting Yuna shake her around. “Please, don’t.”

“Actually, it’s what I think about whenever I see you two interact,” she said, lowering her voice, bringing her nose close to Aurora’s cheek. Your best friend gave her a look. “You guys lowkey have chemistry, Ror.”

You pressed the glass to your lips and took your shot.

“It’ll never happen again,” Aurora widened her eyes, “We’ve said it. We’re friends. Besides, I'm with Wooyoung.” 

Sliding the empty glass onto the table, you reached for another that Seonghwa had filled. All the glasses on the table got filled actually, the boy was entirely too drunk he couldn’t put together who was sitting around here and who wasn’t. 

“With Wooyoung,” you mumbled with a smirk, knocking the shot back. That was awfully rich. Words such as those hadn’t been spoken… ever. Placing the glass down you glanced to your right and found them both looking at you, their eyes unreadable. 

Yuna slid her hand over Aurora’s, taking her attention back. “Where’s Soul?” she asked with a tilt of her head, nonchalant, calm, collected. Like she didn’t know.

“Ah,” Aurora sighed, “He’s upstairs, in his room. He needed a minute, he’ll be back down though, he was excited you guys were coming.”

Soul went up to his bedroom when you all came back from the beach. He and Aurora spent a lot of time sitting on the sand, many feet away from the group, whispering to one another. They weren’t whispering, they were talking, but it felt like whispering, like they were keeping something a secret. Wooyoung didn’t care, just like he didn’t care that first beach day, letting the two of them spend that kind of time together.

The twenty year old went up to his room, and he didn’t come back.

“Is he okay?” Yuna flipped her brows over.

“Totally, sometimes he just-”

“Then let’s go get him,” you said, pushing yourself off of the couch. Aurora let go of Yuna and turned toward you, both of her hands planting to the cushions beneath her as she looked up at you with worry in her eyes.

“No, he’ll come back when-”

“If you go get him certainly he’ll come down, right?” you questioned, throwing a hand toward Aurora. Shifting your eyes over to Yuna, she reacted as every other being had when you shoved them in the middle of this situation. Unmoving. She watched you with a discomfort bleeding onto her perfect complexion. 

“I mean, yeah,” Aurora breathed. “But, he’ll come down when he’s ready, Tor, leave him alone.”

You propped a hand on your hip. “I don’t understand.”

Her brows screwed up above her eyes, squishing into the center of her forehead. “Tori, he literally said he wanted to sleep. It’s been four days of us going, going, going- let him rest. What don’t you understand?”

Amidst her words you tipped your head backward and groaned. “The babying, the way you treat him,” you shook your hands about to emphasize what she’d just said to you, “I mean, we all see it.”

She froze. For a few seconds, her face wiped of all feeling, her body straightened out, and she didn’t move an inch. Then, she looked at Yuna, only turning her head to find her staring down at her lap, her nimble fingers twisting the bracelet around on her wrist. When she looked back up at you her eyes felt like daggers.

She grit her teeth. “I can’t believe you right now.”

Leaping from the couch, barely catching herself on her feet as she fumbled over Yuna without a care if she bumped into her or not, she stormed off, straight into the gameroom where the guys were still shouting, laughing, and having fun. In minutes you knew she’d be shouting, laughing, and having fun, too. 

Flopping back down on the cushions, you exchanged a look with Yuna and rolled your eyes. She scooted closer to you.

“I’m not supposed to know anything, am I?” she asked.

Letting your eyes shift down to the gorgeous bracelet she wore around her dainty wrist, you took a breath. “No,” you grumbled.

She studied you. Her lashes fluttered as she took you in, and grabbed onto your hand. “Come on,” she said, tugging you off the couch. Pulling you out of the living room and into the kitchen. Passing by the doorway to the game room, the noise amplifying, you caught a glimpse of Aurora beneath Wooyoung’s arm, her head on his shoulder.

Yuna posted you up at the island counter and slid shot glasses toward you, four of them.

“What are we doing?” you asked, watching her search for a bottle she was happy with.

“What we’d do at ATZ to forget about shit,” she smiled as she spun around, vodka in hand.

“More shots,” you said, and she gleamed, screwing the top off the liquor. Moving back to your side, wanting to crawl under your arm in true Yuna fashion, the stage five clinger, she filled all of the glasses.

“Duh,” she said in response to you, then lifted a glass for you to take. “Here.”

It burned, but it went down easily. Just as the second one did.

“Hell yeah!” Yuna cheered, filling the glasses up again. “You know, I was thinking about Isla.”

Sliding your phone out of your pocket, you shot her a look. “What? Why? I was thinking about her the other day, too.”

Taking a shot, Yuna shrugged, popping her brows. “Just how things happen for a reason, I guess.”

Laying your phone on the counter you swiped open to your messages and found one waiting for you. You took a shot and opened the thread. “You mean her not being here, don’t you.” Picking up the second glass at the same time she did, you looked at one another, paused a second, then clinked them together. 

“It wouldn’t be good,” Yuna muttered, taking the shot as fast as she could, making a face as it burned through her. 

The thought of her not coming, not being here with everyone else almost hurt as much as thinking about Mingi being here without Yunho. Though Isla not being here was a good thing, and much better for her, it was another major difference, another point on the list telling you what’s changed, and what is not the same.

“She belongs where she is,” Yuna said, refilling the glasses again. Waiting for you to pick one up, to clink them together again, she whispered, “Everything happens for a reason.” Flashing you a smile, her words echoed in your ears. Even as she turned away from you to take her last shot, it took you a couple seconds to follow suit, to let the liquor push you further into a state you weren’t sure you should be in at the moment.

Blurry, wobbly, lighter, like you could start laughing and never stop.

Before you know it, whether it’d been ten minutes or an hour, you weren’t sure, you and Yuna ventured into the gameroom with the rest of the party. Just as gone as you, you and Yuna attempted the pool sticks, missing every single hit that Mingi or Jongho tried to school you on. Laughter rang in the room, hanging in the air above everyone, even Wooyoung and Aurora who’d taken up space together on a leather chair in one of the corners lost in one another. The only time they’d come up for air or give attention to anyone else is if their name was thrown out with a sarcastic insult, or a comment made by someone else just as drunk.

Jongho let his hands live on Yuna’s waist all night, the two still within those months of ooey gooey goodness, testing waters, figuring each other out. They seemed to be going about it the right way, unlike the pair in the corner, a traditionalness about them. No one expected anything less from Jongho, that’s why his bracelet didn’t come as much of a surprise to you. The boy was classy, he went about relationships with a purpose, playing the long game that wasn’t much of a game at all.

Soul came back at some point, you didn’t even realize his blonde head was in the room until you brushed by him to get to Mingi’s side. The boy stood by Seonghwa, following his lead, shadowing him, asking him questions, letting him tell him what to do when it came to the game. He gave you a sideways smile as you passed him, one you tried your hardest to return. 

“Hi,” Mingi said to you as you bumped into his shoulder. Looking down at you through his glasses, a thin rimmed pair you adored, he settled his smile and watched you wrap yourself around his arm. “Thought you forgot I was here. Having fun with Yuna?”

“You thought I forgot you were here?” you asked, raising a brow. Stepping back from him, one hand holding onto his bicep, you looked him up and down and scoffed. His shirt quite literally stuck to him, everything beneath it entirely visible. Tucked into his jeans that laid low on his hips, his form was on display, for you, for everyone else. The slight arch in his back as he stood, the broad stretch of his wide shoulders, how could you not want to drink up every bit of him?

Mingi tipped his chin backward. “Tori,” he said with every care in the world, with caution. 

“Mingi,” you sang back, closing the space between your bodies, letting one of your hands sweep over his torso. Shaking his head his smirk grew as you whined. “Why? It’s been three days.” He was content watching you. You pulled at his shirt, you tried to kiss his jaw but had to settle for his collarbone, you threw yourself against him. “Please?” He blinked, and you groaned. “Please, please, please.”

“I dunno,” he said. “Have you kept your promise?”

“I did,” you said, hushed and rushed, keeping your eyes locked on his that grew darker by the second. “I really did.”

“You’re so drunk,” he mumbled.

You tapped a hand to his chest, your brows furrowing. “So are you.”

He cracked a laugh. “I am.”

“Then let’s go,” you whined, bouncing on your knees. “Please, I miss you, I need you.”

Something washed over him. It looked like shock, yet excitement, but ultimately looked like complete shock.

“You do?” he asked, and you rolled your eyes.

“Of course I do, Mingi, I haven’t had you in three days, I miss you,” you whispered.

The magic words apparently. In no time, with his hands on you, he ushered you out of the room, bid his friends goodnight, hurried you up two flights of stairs and nudged you into your bedroom so he could close the door behind you. His hands slid around your neck in an instant, his large frame pushing you backward towards the bed, stopping just before you could fall onto it. Rising to your tiptoes you brushed your lips over his before parting them for a kiss, one so deep you could feel it in your chest.

He seemed to take his time, reveling in this moment, one you haven’t shared in a period of time too long for either of you. He’d withheld it, kept it from you, it’s not like you didn’t try, how could you not when you crawled into bed beside him every night? Lips working against your own, his tongue slipping between them gently, ever so slightly, like he’d scare you away, he took his hands down your body, over your hips, letting a soft groan spill into your mouth. 

“You’re so hot,” he whispered, undressing you faster than he let himself kiss you. Designer pants to the floor, he unhooked the half corset top you struggled to get into and threw it behind him, taking his hands to your shoulders to push you backward onto the mattress.

Falling over top of you his lips took to your neck, one of his hands hooking beneath your jaw to keep it lifted for him to mark your skin as he pleased. With a whine you pulled your knees back, wrapping your legs around his waist, somehow wiggling your hands between your bodies to work at his jeans, pushing them off of him with your feet. Teeth pressing into your neck, he reached a hand backward to grab onto his form fitting shirt, but you were quick to snatch his wrist away. Pulling back to look down at you and smirk, eyes glassy and hooded, you smirked up at him.

“Shirt and glasses,” you said breathlessly, “Stay on.”

“Mm,” he hummed, brushing his lips over your skin, taking his teeth to your earlobe, giving it a harsh tug to make you squirm. “You like them, huh?”

“Yes,” you sighed, sliding your arms around his back, fingers gripping onto the fabric of his shirt, pulling it tighter around his chest. “So sexy.”

“You want me when you’re drinking,” he whispered, trailing kisses down your jaw to your chin. Slipping a hand down your body, his fingers dancing over your belly, making you giggle, he slipped only his middle finger between your legs, teasing your clit before he pushed it into you. He smiled while you gasped. “So sensitive, baby, you need me that bad?” He pulled out his finger and watched as disappointment clouded over you. “You little slut. What, you can’t wait this long?” He pushed two of his fingers into you and relished in how you sang for him, how tight you squeezed him.

“Move,” you managed to choke out, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown backward into the sheets. Wiggling your hips for any friction, Mingi let out a single laugh and lowered his body weight over top of you.

“Sit fucking still, Torilynn,” he spat. Shifting over top of you, his other hand moving back to your neck, fingers gripping the sides, he pushed down and smiled as you whined. “Listen for once, and do as you’re fucking told.”

Heat coursed through you, rushed through your veins. You were trapped beneath him, and for the first time in a long time, you couldn’t think about anything else. You couldn’t move, couldn’t even try to move, and it brought you right to the edge. Mingi hadn’t even moved his fingers, hadn’t teased you anymore, and you clenched around him like he’s had you up here for hours.

Panting, chest heaving, you looked up at him and his glare through his frames, one mixed with frustration, pleasure, and all the more satisfied. Jaw clenched, he studied you, brows pointed, angry eyes focused. Scissoring his fingers within you, feeling you tremble, watching your face screw up and your moans grow louder, he pumped into you twice, brushed his thumb over your clit at the same time, and just as he felt the muscles in your stomach tighten, he stopped.

He stopped.

He pushed himself off of the bed and staggered backward a few times, dragging a hand through his hair, pushing it off of his dewey forehead. Sitting up to your elbows in disbelief, eyes wide, you took him in and shook your head, catching your breath. He was hard, he wanted you, he needed you, but he stopped.

“Wh- What?” you stammered. There weren’t any words you could throw together to make any sense. “Mingi,” you whispered, “I was gonna…”

Eyes dragging down your body, your spread legs, he palmed himself and tilted his head. Looking up at you, he narrowed his eyes and asked, “You sure you were about to?”

Your body stripped itself of its heat, your blood running ice cold. He could read it all over your face no matter if you tried to hide it from him or not. He knew what you did.

He knew you faked it.

That’s why it’s taken him three days to accept you.

“Mingi,” you breathed, sitting up. He snickered to himself and stepped toward you. “Babe, I just-”

His hands took to your shoulders again. Cutting you off with no time to explain yourself, he spread your knees with his own and held you like he did before, one hand beneath your jaw, the other between your legs. 

“Shut up, Tori,” he growled, and pushed into you without warning, the stretch equally delicious as it was uncomfortable. He gave you little time to adjust, but your body knew him, even as he pistoled into you, having to hold you down because he pushed you away with every thrust. “I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you,” he seethed behind his teeth, pressing his nose to your cheek. Clinging to him, useless beneath him, all you could do was thank god there was still music playing downstairs. “Don’t you ever fucking lie to me again.”

It happened twice.

And you both knew it happened twice because he pulled out every trick, every stunt to ensure you weren’t lying, or pretending. 

He kept you on your back, his eyes locked in on yours, not stopping until you were shaking, legs trembling, body tensing, nearly screaming for him. After the first, seeing stars, you weren’t quite sure he’d be able to pull out another, but oh, sweet Jesus, did he surprise you.

You couldn’t shower on your own, couldn’t stand without his help, that’s just how much he wrecked you. Even now, laying over the white blankets neatly made like they weren’t thrown to the floor last night, you were sore, you could still feel him folding you in half. 

He wandered the bedroom, back and forth from suitcases to drawers to the bathroom. The smell of his cologne hung in the air, a comfort to you and your subconscious, though unanswered questions sat between the two of you, taunting you, nagging you. With his hair styled backward off of his face, he opted for contacts tonight instead of his glasses, all of his sharp, striking features on display. Dark denim baggy jeans and a loose fitted button down hung off of his frame and little golden accessories accented his wrists, his lobes, his neck.

Stunning, you wanted to tell him, but he hadn’t spoken a word to you since he helped you shower last night.

Everyone would be meeting at a bar tonight, the rest of your friends arriving shortly, more people to deal with. To slip up around. Cheers was supposed to be fun, it had a pretty good reputation, and they were the only ones on that street that didn’t kick anybody out, no matter what went down.

“You should get dressed,” Mingi muttered, breaking the silence. Sitting up to your elbows you gave him a look and he met it for only a second. “What are you thinking about?” 

“You.” A sigh fell out of you without meaning to. 

Straightening up his mess, pushing drawers shut, folding clothes he tried on but decided not to wear, his face was stone cold. “What, did I fix you last night?”

Sitting up completely, your hips roaring with soreness, you pouted after he shot you a glare. “Mingi,” you whispered, face softening.

“Did I do something right finally?” he asked, slipping into a pair of custom sneakers Vernon gifted to him when he got his first brand deal. “You’ve got, like, brand new buttons to push or something, Tori?”

Moving on the bed, closer to the edge toward him, you shook your head. “Mingi, listen, I-”

“Nah,” he said definitively, looking at you. Adjusting the sleeves of his shirt, he pulled his lips together. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Tor. Don’t need you to try to prove other things you’ve been faking with me.”

“Mingi,” you said for the third time, moving onto your knees, barely matching his height, but he didn’t wait around to hear what you had to say. If you had anything to say. He had known since you’d done it, and he didn’t say anything about it. Worse, you didn’t say anything about it. And now, you didn’t even have the chance to.

Falling backward, landing on the duvet with a humph, you reached for your phone and swiped it open. Retreating to your messages, you took a breath, hesitating your thumb over the green app, then decided to bite the bullet and just do it.

[you]: you’re a guy right?

[ITZ]: texting me first now what a surprise

[you]: answer the question.

[ITZ]: yes i’m a guy

[you]: can i ask you something guy related

[ITZ]: sure

[you]: before i do… will you tell me who you are

[ITZ]: still can’t figure it out?

[you]: ugh whatever.

[ITZ]: whts going on? trouble in paradise?

[you]: i guess so.

[ITZ]: ask me.

[you]: have you ever had a girl fake it before?

[ITZ]: fake it? as in like an orgasm?

[you]: yeah…

[ITZ]: that would make me feel like utter dog shit, tori.

[you]: of course it would

[ITZ]: tori, are you faking it with the boyfriend?

[you]: you don’t need to know that.

[ITZ]: tell me :)

[you]: once. recently.

[ITZ]: did he suck or what

[ITZ]: what was it

[you]: no, he didn’t. he’s always good i just…

[you]: it was me. i didn’t feel right

[ITZ]: you didn’t want to have sex with him that night? did you feel pressured to do so?

[you]: omg no, never, it’s not like that

[ITZ]: okay good.

[ITZ]: wdym u didnt feel right

[you]: i don’t know but i wanna figure it out

[ITZ]: what else bothers you?

[you]: everything.

[ITZ]: yeah i can sense that.

Sighing, sucking in a deep breath, letting it out within another sigh, you waited patiently for him to say anything else. Gulping, you started typing, and you couldn’t stop.

[you]: i just wish she could be here with yunho. i know she’s happy now, and i know yunho sucks, but we had it so good for so long. everything has changed and everybody was able to move on, but i can’t. i don’t want to. ryujin and yeosang have left, isla’s gone, i have a big ass job to do, half of these motherfuckers destroyed aurora, but also destroyed me. i was on the outside of it all, and does anyone care that i was blindsided too????!

Minutes pass. Long, ticking minutes.

And then, a reply. One that sends a glimmer through your chest.

[ITZ]: i care, tori. that’s not fair to you.

[ITZ]: you can tell me more, to get it off your chest.

There was nothing left to say. At least for now.

Locking your phone you tossed it aside and sat up, eyeing your suitcases. Feeling oddly lighter, like spewing out those words got rid of them within your brain, you leapt to your feet and got yourself ready to party at Cheers.

“Isla landed!” Ryujin shouted over the music and people chatter, crashing in between you and Yuna where you sat at the bar. Showing off her phone screen and the messages from her best friend, a selfie was sent from across the country, both Isla and Vernon in hoodies and sunglasses throwing up a middle finger for the camera. “She’s good, no one worry.”

Laughing with Yuna, watching Ryujin tap away at her screen to send a message back, she opened the camera and threw an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer. Yuna laid her head over her shoulder, all three of your heads fitting in the frame. Pouting your lips, Ryujin winked, and Yuna smiled.

“You were the only one worried, Ryujin,” Yuna said, watching her send the picture. The eldest of you all shot her a glare, one that didn’t pack much of a punch.

“You need another drink,” she sneered sarcastically, stepping up onto the ledge beneath the bar to lean over it. Waving the bartender down, she ordered three drinks and jumped onto her feet. “When that comes, find me.” And her and her shaggy hair was gone in a flash, disappearing into the crowd packing the dance floor. 

Air hot and sweaty, the energy in the place riled everyone up the moment the door was pulled open. Walking here, the six of you, Jongho and Yuna were already waiting inside, the crowds growing tenfold after your first round of drinks, and it only seemed to grow as the night wore on. Ryujin and her girlfriend, Jeongyeon, showed face after an hour, the two of them staying in a hotel nearby. Showing up half drunk, Ryujin squeezed you all like she hadn’t seen you a few days ago, Jeongyeon, sober, watching over her from behind where she wobbled off to.

“Is she okay?” Yuna asked you, turning back to the bar after she vanished.

With a frown, you shook your head. “She misses Isla. Her last semester was hell for her.”

“Seems like it was hell for a lot of us,” Yuna said. Gaping at her and her side eye, you fell into a groan and rolled your head backward. “Tori, you already know what I’m going to say, ‘cause I know Ror has already tried.” The bartender slid drinks in front of you. Grabbing onto it you sucked it down, half listening to Yuna. “She tells me you’re worrying her.”

“Who?” you snapped, eyebrows plummeting above your fresh lashes.

Yuna rolled her eyes. “Aurora,” she breathed.

“I’m worrying her,” you laughed, “Hysterical. She can come say that to my face, why is she talking to you about me?”

“Because you aren’t talking to her about you.” The way she looked at you made you feel funny. “She doesn’t know what to do.”

Tilting your head after a gulp of your drink, you twirled on the stool toward the dance floor and propped an elbow up on the bar. “Seems no one does.”

Yuna scoffed. “See, and then you say shit like that, like you don’t have anyone looking out for you.”

“Who is?” you said, glaring at her. 

Her glossed lips popped open. “We’re all trying, Tori.”

Laughing, you sipped from your glass. “Funny, doesn’t feel like it.”

The song on the speakers swiftly changed into one that’s been blared within the walls of the fraternity, and possibly many others, half of the dance floor threw their hands in the air with a shout. People of all ages filled the space, but your generation reigned majority.

Yuna stared you down, giving you time and the chance to backtrack on what you’ve said, because even you know it isn’t true. They’ve all tried, it’s you.

“I’m gonna go dance and give this to Rio,” she said with all of the patience in the world. Jumping from the stool, adjusting her mini skirt, she tried to smile at you, reaching for the glass on the bar behind you. “We’ll listen to you. You know we will. No matter what it is. She will listen to you. After what they put her through, put us through… Don’t do this.”

She walked off, her and her beautiful waves and stretch of toned legs accented by her chunky platform sandals. 

Damn, where’d she get those.

You’d ask her later when she wasn’t pissed at you, maybe after she’s forgotten what she just said to you.

Sipping your fruity drink you let your gaze fall on the crowd, kids like you dancing too close to one another, drinking the night away, singing along to the music. That should be you. It could be you. Everyone had a dance partner though, and you knew yours was in a corner with his friends somewhere. Last time you saw him he was wedged between Seonghwa and Wooyoung, the three of them waiting for Yeosang to step in the building.

Your phone buzzed in the baby purse slung over your shoulder, enough room in there for the block, a tube of lipgloss, and your credit card. Digging it out reluctantly, the song changed and another roar rolled throughout the room making you smile. Just as you tapped on your screen, your eyes locked with another’s, he and his friends shoved into a booth on the other side of the room, the three of them with a few others who were new to ATZ last year.

He simply watched you, eyes not prying.

You opened the message.

[ITZ]: having fun?

Looking up at Jongseob, only after meeting his eyes for the second time did his smile grow. You spun around to face the bar.

[you]: so it’s you then. you’re here. you know i’m here. it’s you.

[ITZ]: figured it out?

[ITZ]: come get me then

That electricity shot through you. The excited one, the one that felt like it shouldn’t do this, but ultimately needed to do this. Slipping your phone back into your bag, you swapped it for the gloss and laid it on thick. Zipping your purse shut, you stepped off the stool and started across the floor, pushing through people, throwing your perfectly flipped hair over your shoulder. His gaze followed you the entire time, soft eyes locked on yours, dropping lower to admire the curve of your hips and how the dress you wore hugged you in all the right places.

You wore it to entice your boyfriend, but, this would do.

Warm blonde hair and smooth honey colored skin smiled up at you, moving over on the bench to make some room for you to sit. Heart pounding in your chest, you could smell him, the right amount of musk mixed with anxiety. Normally you’d be putting him in his place, telling him off, yelling at him to leave you alone. In the halls of ATZ, in dark corners of that house, you’d done it many times, as had Mingi, and eventually Jongseob did leave you alone.

But it was evident he still didn’t give a fuck.

“Well,” you said, breathlessly, “Here I am.”

Sitting backward, head resting on the cushion behind him, his smile grew. “Here you are,” he repeated, his voice deep, gravelly, so unique, one that took you by surprise each time you heard it. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to sit next to you again, Tori.” The way his gaze traveled about your face, it warmed your cheeks, you were lucky it was too dim for him to notice. “What brings you over here?”

Glancing at Jiung and Intak, both boys looking out at the dance floor but so obviously listening in, you smiled at Jongseob. You were playing the secret game.

“How long have you been here?” you asked.

“As long as you,” he nodded once, keeping his chin tipped up in the same way Mingi would. Cocky. An attempt to seem bigger than he was, older. “Having a good time?”

“Totes,” you said, narrowing your eyes. “Where are you guys staying?”

“A few houses down from you, actually,” he said, his lips settling into a smirk.

“Interesting,” you said just above a whisper. Jongseob bobbed his head, his eyes dropping lower for a few seconds. You’re reminded of the M necklace you’ve been wearing. “We’ll have to have you guys come by one of these nights, how long are you staying?”

“As long as we want, my parents own the house,” he said, popping his tongue out his lips to wet them. He didn’t miss how you watched. “We’d love to party. Our boy has VIP access, we’re very curious.”

Soul.

“Mm, he does, doesn’t he,” you said, tone going flat as you glanced down to the table and the boys across from you still acting as if they weren’t paying attention. Jongseob reached a hand underneath the table, his fingers grazing your knee for a moment, forcing your focus back over to him.

“That bothers you,” he said, brows lowering over his golden brown eyes. You kept your faces to yourself. “If you want, we’ll take him back,” he shrugged. “He’s spent summers at this house with us before, it’s not like it’s a big deal. If he’s bothering you, just tell him. He’ll disappear before you know he’s gone.”

It was that easy. Just literally say the words, and the weird, annoying thing between your best friend and Soul, gone.

“Won’t that upset him?” you asked, voice going quiet. “If I say that to him, that seems kind of mean.”

Jongseob twisted his brows, then he laughed. “It’s not that deep, Tori, he’s infiltrating your vacation.”

You looked at your lap, at Jongseobs hand on the cushion of the booth, inches from your thigh. “I dunno, Aurora gets worried about him.” Intak’s head turned at the mention of her name. “She like… watches over him, or something, I don’t know, I don’t get it.”

He shared a look with his friends, his smile growing into one that stirred your stomach. “How adorable,” he sighed, facing you, “Funny how Soul was the one to get in there, right? After what he did? It’s like she’s got Stockholm Syndrome or something.”

That was a funny way to think about it.

For all of them.

Even more funny how she could drop Yunho in a second, someone who didn’t have the in, but someone who tried to look out for her. Sure, he hurt her in other ways, but he didn’t want to ruin her life. Wooyoung, Soul, hell, even Seonghwa… She held the three of them as close as she could, in the obvious, most Aurora way possible.

Was she even happy about that?

Was she doing this on purpose?

Or, was he fucking with you.

“What do you want with me, Jongseob?” you asked. Jiung broke his neck to look at you, him and Intak in utmost shock.

The twenty year old lowered his brows, but his smile refused to fade away. “Heavy question, Tori.”

“Answer it,” you said through grit teeth. He deflected like the messages earlier in the day.

“Honestly, or in a way that your boyfriend wouldn’t want to kill me if he overheard?”

Clenching your jaw, you twisted to face him, and said, “Honestly.”

“I want you everywhere,” he said without hesitation. Looking you up and down, he huffed. “Naked, preferably. I’d make a mess out of you, and I want that lip gloss leftover on my dick when I’m finished with you.” He never broke eye contact, but he didn’t miss the way you pressed your legs together. “You think I haven’t ever thought about how you’d look bent over every surface in every room I’ve seen you in?” The way his eyes narrowed, the way he stifled his laughter, it spurred you on. He leaned into you, inches between your bodies. “You think I’ve never heard what you sound like when he’s fucking you? I live in that house with him, Tori.”

Gulping, you took a breath to ease your racing heart, but nothing would calm it.

“I like this game,” he said, smug as ever. “We’ve never played this before. Why do you ask?”

“Just curious,” you whispered. “I think I need another drink.” 

Sliding from the booth, he gave you a wink before you ventured back over to the bar, posting up beside a being that appeared to stretch taller than your boyfriend. Bumping into his shoulder on accident, you adjusted your purse and shot him a smile, just as he gave one to you. Focusing back on the bar, both of you, at once you snapped your necks to gawk at one another.

“Tori.”

“Yunho.” Scrambling for something to say after ordering another drink from the woman behind the bar, you shook your head and asked, “What are you doing here?”

He looked everywhere but directly at you. “Uh, I’m with Yeosang and Keni, we, uh, just got here. Like, ten minutes ago.”

“Right,” you said, glancing around for the other two, Yeosang and his girlfriend, but they must’ve been in the corner with everyone else. Somewhere Yunho was most definitely not welcome. Just standing next to him felt wrong, even if it happened by accident. “Uh, how have you been?” you asked, unsure of how to continue on talking to him. This bartender was taking her sweet, sweet time.

“I’ve been alright,” he said with a shrug of his broad shoulders, but his tone told you he has not been alright. “You?” he asked, hitting with the subtlest of side eyes.

You answered him reluctantly. “I’ve… been alright.”

He laughed, you couldn’t hear it, but you could see it in his shoulders. “You too, huh?”

“What do you mean?” Looking up at him, he looked back, his dusty colored hair overgrown over his eyes, his ears. Grabbing the beer from in front of him, the bartender having slid his and yours down at the same time, he sipped it and shrugged.

“Doesn’t feel good, does it?”

You sipped your drink, feeling your stomach lurch.

Yunho sighed, sitting down on a stool, shrinking down to your height. “Makes you feel like… utter dog shit,” he mumbled, giving you a glance before he drank from his beer.

Utter dog shit.

that would make me feel like utter dog shit, tori.

Looking over your shoulder to Jongseob and his friends, not one of them paid any attention to you, they talked amongst themselves, shoved over the table like a bunch of high schoolers keeping a secret. Without thinking, you sat down next to him. In the tipsy blurriness it was easy to forget things for the time being, like you could rewind the months, go back to when he was still one of your best friends and he hadn’t broken your sister's heart. 

There never was a proper goodbye with Yunho, proper closure. A part of you didn’t need it, your loyalty was to Aurora, to Mingi, and Yunho had hurt them both. As one of your friends, he hurt you too. After that night though, when Aurora spilled it all to him, and Mina dished shit back, the respect you held for this adorable human being had been sucked out of you.

“I never got to say anything to you,” you said gently, making him look at you, his eyes on alert. “You were a real jackass, you know that?”

He sighed. “Yes, I know that. I have to live with that.”

“She loved you.”

He shook his head, letting it hang. “I loved her.”

“No, you didn’t,” you snapped.

He whipped his head toward you. “Yes, I did. Don’t tell me how I felt. I know what I did was fucked, but that didn’t mean I didn’t love her.”

Sipping your drink, you rolled your shoulders backward to try to sit taller than him. “How’s Mina?”

The laugh he cracked told you plenty. “There’s no Mina.”

“No?”

“No,” he sneered, cringing. “Do you know how bad I regret letting it get that far? There never should’ve been a Mina, I should’ve been honest with Rory from the start, but I know you know how hard that is to do.”

“How hard what is, Yo?” you asked, voice hushed.

“Please, Tor, you’re dating my best friend,” he said. “You and I were friends for a long time, too. You learn about people. You and I, we’re the same, we don’t speak, and then things go to shit.”

“Like, if you say something, they won’t get it. Or, they’ll take it and run with it, turning it into something it never was.”

Yunho shrugged. “Not really, but also… yes.” He tapped his glass with a single finger. “Rory, she was getting over Wooyoung, if I said anything back then, I’d be the jackass, and she wouldn’t be about it. I’d ruin whatever we had before it even started.”

“Weren’t you involved with Mina then?”

He pursed his lips and shook his head. “No, Rory had me first.”

“Damn,” you breathed, and he gave you a look.

“Damn,” he repeated, smiling with you. He looked down at his beer, took a breath, then blinked over at you. “How’s Mingi?”

Those words falling from his lips drove a knife straight into your heart. 

Starting with a hesitance, you barely got two words out before something flashed in his eyes. “He’s, uh… He’s good. We’re good.”

He tilted his head. “Is he,” he muttered, looking at you like he knew something. “That’s good,” he tried to smile, grabbing onto his beer, taking a swig.

You could tell him how Mingi and Wooyoung have grown closer, how the four of you were turning into a proper foursome- if you’d ever allow it. You could tell him that Mingi says Wooyoung is a good friend, that the two talk more than they ever have, that they share things with one another, things that Mingi and Yunho would share with each other. You could rub it in, that his spot was being filled, that he was being replaced with each passing second, but you couldn’t.

Because you knew at the end of the day, no matter who’s shit went where, that Mingi would choose Yunho.

He could come back to him after months, years, asking him to hide a fucking body, and Mingi would, without question. 

“I know things have gone wrong,” Yunho said, nodding. “I know I’ve done things that are so messed up.” He turned to face you, his knees nearly bumping into your own. “But, I still care, Tori.” Your blood ran cold, like it had the night before. “What we all had, it’s not just something I can forget, or pretend like it didn’t happen.”

Sucking in a deep breath, you turned to face the bar and resisted the urge to ask him if he was the one you were texting, which sounded absolutely ridiculous when you said it to yourself. You had his goddamn number, why would it be him?

“How long have you been here?” you asked, sipping your now empty drink. “In Haos?”

“We came down right after you guys,” he said, and you froze. “Me, Yeosang and Keni. San and Hongjoong are staying with us, but they won’t be here till tomorrow. Guess I shouldn’t be surprised you didn’t know that?” You shook your head. “Right, who would wanna keep tabs on me anymore,” he muttered with a laugh.

“Tori?”

The voice from behind you sent a chill down your spine, and you know it happened to the boy beside you as well. Spinning around in time with him, both wide eyed and nervous, you faced Aurora who couldn’t bring herself to even look at Yunho. She stood before you in strappy sandals and a dress that almost matched the one you wore.

“Ror,” you forced from your lips, giving Yunho one last glance before you abandoned him at the bar. The look on his face as he stared at her pained you. Taking your hands to her shoulders you walked her backwards onto the dance floor, hoping to get lost in the midst of the crowd to explain yourself before she caught Wooyoung’s ear.

“Why were you talking to him?” she asked you, pulling her hands over her middle.

Digging your fingers into her shoulders, you shook your head fast. “I found him by total accident, Aurora, I didn’t mean to end up there.”

“You could’ve walked away,” she said. She was the face of patience, no emotion other than calm coming out of her.

“I know,” you breathed, taking your hands down her arms. “I just… had to get my Yunho closure.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Why do you need Yunho closure? No one else has Yunho closure.”

“I guess… I dunno,” you said, fumbling over your words, “Maybe it wasn’t closure, I just… I could’ve walked away.” 

“That was weird,” she said.

Dropping your hands, taking all but a step backward, you questioned, “But, was it?”

“What does that mean?” she asked, confusion washing over her. The way she looked at you, the same way Yuna looked at you earlier, like they didn’t know you. 

Pressing your hands to your cheeks, you clenched your jaw and shook your head. “I don’t know… Aurora, I don’t… I don’t know.” 

She moved around as tipsy dancers bumped into her back. Holding out a hand, she gripped one of your wrists. “That’s okay,” she said. “Should we go talk to Mingi?”

Mingi.

“No,” you answered fast, making her brows raise. “I mean, not yet,” you corrected, “I’ll talk to him later, can we just dance, Tor and Ror, come on.” Tugging at her hands, trying to spin her around, you got nothing but half a smile from her.

“I don’t… No,” she said, shaking her head, pulling her hands away from you. “I need a minute after… After that,” she mumbled, gesturing toward the bar, toward Yunho, where you were just sitting with him. “I’ll tell Ryujin you wanna dance, she’ll come out here, so will Seonghwa.”

She left you in the middle of the dance floor, weaving herself through the crowd to get back to your friends, probably doing shots in the corner, talking about who knows what. In your purse, your phone went off.

Pressing your lips together, ignoring the lump in your throat, you opened up the message and felt a tear slide down your cheek.

[ITZ]: do what feels right, pretty girl

read it on ao3 | talk to me | my masterlist

you do not have permission to copy or translate my works without my consent.

[jujutsukgojo]

The Baby Project Chapter 8

izuku midoriya x reader

The Baby Project masterlist

Summary: Izuku discovers a lot about you and Noa. tw: angsty, fluff, izuku once again being Papa, izuku and mc being pervy, inside look at the adult heroes. Some of Class A, violence, mc is kinda mean

You grip the edge of the sink and let the water trail down from your face. Izuku’s been by your side since then and strangely, Shouto hasn’t told him what happened between you. It’s been two weeks since you’ve got your points docked and received detention. Snipe hasn't told you how long this will be and if he's taking away your "volunteer work".

The day after Noa went missing, you called and told Yona what happened. Because of the fuckery, both of you decided it was best to keep your job quiet again rather than completely quit.

Your most recognizable and familiar emotions rear their heads as you stare into your bathroom mirror: frustration, anger at the world, and everything that has had anything to do with the flames that burn you. These losses in this battle upon you devastated your pride and dignity. The very thought of the heroes makes you want to scratch their eyes out in retaliation for witnessing one of the most painful things in your life. Again. 

You exit the bathroom and see Izuku and Noa taking a nap in your bed. Noa has recently gotten a hold of washable markers and used Izuku’s face as his canvas. Both boys played hard. The clouds hovered in the sky and bits of rain splattered about today, so they weren't able to roll around in the grass like usual. 

You sit at your desk and begin to write this week's report log.

"To whomever this bitch ass hero is,

You have some nerve, including you Snipe. This month was not good. Noa went on an adventure and everyone got bent out of shape about it. You docked my points because he wandered around. No one got hurt and your ass got to exercise. I helped with your training and this is what I get. Amazing how deadbeats get praise for what they are literally paid for but I turn around for .1 nanoseconds and you get out of pocket.

All of you can drop.

Anyway, I feel bad for Benio. He is a great dad if you haven't noticed and probably haven't. WILLINGLY. He got yelled at by Yaomomo or whatever her trifling ass is. Now, she is “raising” Kobeni. He isn't mad at me but at himself. He shouldn’t be punished. I don’t know why I bother since you and the rest of these silly hoes have never cared. 

Another thing I can report is that Noa is still hitting and has had no bathroom accidents so tell that one dude with the rope to trip and break his neck. Noa still shows a love for cooking! It’s nice that his previous behavior and personality weren’t fully wiped out."

You take a deep breath before you continue to write.

"I have decided to talk to Kaibara with supervision. I won’t leave Noa with him and I will not be alone in the same space as him. Kaibara has shown violent tendencies towards me and Noa, with witnesses present, and I have no guarantee that he won’t hurt Noa even more. This talk will only be me telling him basic things about Noa and getting his signature. Will this satisfy you and save my grade? 

Other than you disrespecting me and my robo-baby, he is having a problem swallowing some things. I have decided to feed him soup and mashed things. It happened suddenly when I made him a sandwich. Is it possible that he didn't chew right? Maybe it just went down rough. That and your dusty ass gave him hives."

-------

Snipe sighs after he finishes reading your report log out loud. The heroes sit at the table in the conference room. Each tries to remain indifferent to what they saw the other day, but it is undeniable. What was supposed to be a simple punishment ended up being something they’ve only seen with victims, not normal students. The baby project was created for a reason. It’s experimental and shows where the future heroes, the next generation, stand with public and private care. Whether it be their own families or those they contact, they must learn compassion and responsibility.

What happened to you only proved that they have lost their way. All Might sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What exactly did you do?” He wasn’t there at the time. Most of the teachers weren’t. Actually, some of them weren’t even called to search because the kids were found so quickly by the third-year heroes. 

“In summary, the student lost points and she reacted badly,” Aizawa says gruffly.

Snipe scoffs. “Reacted badly? That's the conclusion to your analysis? I’ve seen her react badly, but this was on another level.”

“Her grades are essential to her scholarship. Having Noa revert to two years old would have been a factor.”

Vlad King rubs his face. “It was too far. There definitely needs to be a check on all of the students.”

Nezu nods. “Although I agree that the impact it had on her grade was definitely a factor for her panic, I can’t deny that Snipe is right, too.” He taps his chin and says, “We must check their health. Not just mentally, but physically as well. I want everyone to be evaluated.”

“What about (Y/n)?” Snipe hopes that his colleagues remember what they felt when they saw you in Recovery Girl's office.

“I think it’s only fair that (Y/n)’s grade be mainly restored. However, Noa and Kobeni did go missing, so she has to lose some points." Nezu taps on the table. "I agree, Recovery Girl. It was cruel.” Nezu thought of mercy for you.  

“It’s about time you guys thought of the children.” Her old voice huffs. She smacks the stack of paper on the table. Aizawa looks down at his lap. “We are. Hence why we’re doing this assignment.”

“At the cost of other children? Heroes over civilians?” Snipe’s words echo on the walls and settle into the adults' minds. The reason for the baby project is to prevent and train the heroes on how to be compassionate and raise the next generation with care. To give them a taste of the future. The younger general studies were the perfect candidates in their opinion. It was less risky since they weren't as tainted or exposed as the previous year. However, your reaction revealed something they didn’t expect. Now the question of validity and correction hangs in the air.

Nezu nods. “We’ll keep the assignment and restore her grade-”

Snipe interrupts before Nezu can change the subject. “And a caretaker. I understand that the hero course faces dangers that children can’t be around but my students face challenges too. Look at their grades, their health, all of it. They deserve the same treatment.”

Vlad nods. “I agree.” Aizawa nods and agrees, finally. Nezu puts his hands together and says, “This brings me to Kaibara…”

  Vlad sighs and rubs his face. His heavy hand lands on the dark wood table. Kaibara has been a subject he has tried to handle and avoid at the same time.

-------

“Alright, class, we’ve come to an agreement.” Snipe puts his hands on the podium. “We understand your situation about the caregivers-”

“Inequality. It’s okay, you can say it.” Sakura crosses her arms and with a subtle wave of her finger, you spot Jule trying to discreetly pull out his phone. Snipe doesn’t see what’s going on. 

Snipe’s silent then takes his mask off. “You’re right. It’s not fair hence why we’re giving you guys one. It’ll be during classes of course.”

The class cheers. This is the bare minimum, but it’s a start. A footstep that’ll help tremendously. Alas, it will not be enough.

Ema waves her hand. “When?” 

“How? It’ll be tragic if the caregiver gets blamed just like (Y/n).” Benio’s expression is so deadpan it hurts. 

“Enough. Benio, it won’t be like last time.” Snipe takes a breath and looks directly at you. “I’d like to see you after class.” 

Riko looks at you and sucks in her lips. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what she’s worried about. She’s worried it has to do with her and if you’ll finally tell the truth. Riko doesn’t need to verbally say it. Her expression speaks for her. Even though you understand, your sympathy can’t fight the resentment from the pain you went through for her, for all of them. To have her sit here and be worried about you being a snitch only rubs salt in the wound. 

If she doesn’t back off, you’re liable to tell. She flinches and her focus goes back to her desk. Good. Your classmates and Izuku have been very supportive and empathetic, you can't help the bitterness, embarrassment, and anger. You were so proud that Noa was three years old and just to have that ripped away from you was brutal. Not to mention that she was supposed to be watching the kids. One day these feelings will subside. Until then, she needs to back the fuck off and remember her place. 

It feels good to have her remember that she owes you. 

-

You stand in front of Snipe. Today, surprisingly, Noa decided to go with Izuku. It’s not like it is a big deal since he’s handed off and there's no struggle like there is with you. 

“I read your log, which was entertaining by the way,” Are you supposed to say thank you? Ever since they did that to Noa, you haven’t said a word in any of your classes. You’ve been called on and asked to speak yet you say nothing. If you do, they’ll use it against you and come at Noa again. 

Snipe sighs and scratches the back of his head. His hat moves as he does it. “Look, we decided what happened was out of line. So, to compensate, we’re turning Noa back to three. However, your grade is still docked a few points because he did go missing. But these are points that can be made up. With you being more advanced than your peers, it won’t take long.”

You say nothing even though this is good news and you were acknowledged as superior to everyone else. As you should be.

He waits and waits for a response. He clears his throat and nods. “Oh, and, um, about your parental situation. Kaibara is still the official father, but we recognize Midoriya being Noa’s stepfather. So, your grade in that regard won’t suffer. We understand the situation better and think it will be best to do it this way without taking away Kaibara’s grade since it needs to be documented.”

Does he expect you to thank him? You want Kaibara out of your life forever. Do the heroes want you to jump for joy because they no longer expect you to include him and have given their blessing for Midoriya? Who isn’t even recognized as his real father, but a stepfather. How are you supposed to be happy about this?

Snipe fiddles with his thumbs. “Alright. That’s what I wanted to tell you. You’re dismissed, (Y/n).” You leave without a look back. From behind is a sigh that lasts until you shut the door.

 It feels so nice to make him and the others miserable. How wonderful it is that it bothers him and the adults that you're angry, silent, and hurt. So much so, that they've acknowledged what they did was wrong. What about everything else? What about the entire project? There's a lot to pay for and this little morsel they gave will not cover it.   -------------

You don't understand why you are nervous about telling Izuku. Maybe it’s because it doesn’t really mean anything. Are you making it a bigger deal than it is? 

He stands in the kitchen with Noa on his hip. Noa sniffs a seasoning that Izuku brings to his nose. The toddler wrinkles his nose and says 'no'. This continues until Izuku finds one he likes then has Noa put it into a saucepan. 

If or when he has kids, they will be so loved. Izuku is always busy and is easily distracted, but when Noa wants the least bit of attention, his papa will stretch himself thin just to be there. Strangely enough, he’s a blessing. Who would have thought that this guy who you saw on a phone screen for two seconds would be Noa’s papa? A good one, too. 

The scene is sweet and domestic. Noa is starting to have very obvious features of Izuku. The more you look at Noa, you can see that he’s grown. The teachers must’ve increased his age already. Taking a deep breath, you walk up to them and ask, “Izuku, can I talk to you for a minute?” He perks up at the sound of your voice. Noa squints his eyes at you. “Mm!”

He still won’t call you mom. You’ve deduced that his ‘mm’ is his version of mom and that he’s doing it on purpose.

“It’ll be a second, bud. I’ll be right back.” He sets Noa down and turns the stove on low. Noa crosses his arms and taps his foot. 

“What’s up?” Izuku looks over your face for a clue. You clear your throat. “Ah, Snipe’s bitch ass told me that Kaibara doesn’t have to be an active participant right now.”

“Hm?”

“I was confused about that too. It means that I don’t have to rely on him for my grades. And that um,” You scratch your cheek. “You can be like, Noa’s stepdad or something? I already put you in my reports-”

“You do?” His eyes shine and his cheek blooms a light shade of pink. It looks pretty on his face. “Yeah. I mean, you’ve done a lot for me and Noa so it’s only right.” He sucks in his lips to hide his obvious smile. 

One of your hands is behind your back while the other plays with your ear. “Anyway, I just wanted to ask if it’s okay. I’m already doing it but I’ll stop if you want me to.”

“Yes.”

“You can say no.”

“Even though you’ve already started?” You frown. “Well, yeah…you can still tell me no.”

He chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m flattered that you write about me,” He licks his lips. “What do you write? I mean, I don’t know much about your reports, so I want to know what you say.”

You purse your lips and roll your eyes. “I tell them that you’re a crybaby that Noa peed on and who likes gory porn.” 

The pink on his cheeks spread. “N-no! No, I do not! And he peed on you too!”

“Ha! Not as much as he did you. It was like a fountain. Like, shhh!” You imitate water sounds. He scoffs and crosses his arms, trying to look tough. It's hard to take it seriously when he looks cute. 

“He shhh'ed on you first!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Uh-huh! I remember because you started screaming like a sissy girl.” What kind of insult is that? Clearly, he doesn't do this often. Then, you stop and lean in. “Like a girl from your gory porno movies?”

“(Y/n)!”

You poke his chest. “You are a 'prevert'. That’s worse than a pervert. You probably liked me screaming like those girls in those movies.”

There’s something in you, something a little weird and devious. You get closer to him. The space is almost non-existent and gives him a view of your chest if he looks down. He is red from head to toe and stiff as a board. You smile and poke his face teasingly. Right when you are about to harass him some more, Noa’s little voice sounds from behind you. 

“Porn?” Both you and Izuku, who has darkened eyes, gasp and turn to look at the source. Noa cocks his head to the side. “No, no, no! Don’t say that.”

Noa squints his eyes. “Go back in the kitchen, buddy. I’ll be there in a second.”

You clear your throat and look down. You were so caught up in messing with Izuku that Noa slipped your mind. His hand rubs the back of his neck. Clearly, he’s in the same boat. “I have an idea,” Izuku slowly grins again. The red has calmed down but not by much. At least he's breathing again. “What if we do our own birth certificate? If you want to! It’s up to you!”

Even after all these months, he thinks he has to ask when it concerns Noa. 

“I’d like that.” If it looks cute, you may even frame it.

-

 It’s Noa’s construction paper and has been written in Izuku’s handwriting since it is more legible. He put the words ‘birth certificate’ on the top and the date. There isn’t anything fancy on it other than Noa’s information and your name next to ‘mom’ and Izuku’s name next to ‘papa’.  Underneath both of yours is where Noa’s name will go. “Boy, get in here, we wanna talk to you.”

Noa comes around the counter. “I’m waiting!” For him being so young, he’s very vocal and speaks clearly. It’s amazing, actually. Even if he is putting his hands on his hips impatiently as he taps his foot on the floor. He's clearly got Izuku's personality.

 “Noa, c’mere for a sec.” You take the paper out and point. “Baby boy, this is a birth certificate. It’s how people know who you and your parents are. See? My name is right here.”

“Okay…” He answers slowly. You rub the top of his head. “What’s your name?” You ask.

“Noa.”

“What’s your full name?” Without hesitation, he says so clearly, “Noa Midoriya.”

You write it down on his line. Izuku sniffles when you finish. “Want to sign it too?” Noa bounces and takes the marker with his left hand and swirls it around. Apparently, it’s his signature. 

Izuku twirls him around. You will copy this so you can keep the original. That copy is going right into Snipe’s face and telling him to choke.

----------

After your ceremony and dinner, you decide to pick up the toys that his papa keeps buying him. It’s sweet but a pain to have to help Noa pick up and organize. Right when you bend over to pick up one of Noa’s many toys, he hits your butt. He's been finding it fun to hit nowadays despite your warning.

“Izuku, get your kid before I do. I’ve been trying to be gentle but-”

“I know, I know, my dear. Noa, c’mere.” He pats his lap for Noa to jump onto. “Look, I know you love Mm and don’t mean to hurt her, but you are. You’re hurting people when you do that.”

The kid purses his lips. “Sorry.”

“Are you sorry because you got caught or because you mean it? They are different.”

“Caught.”

“Oh my God…” You whisper. Groaning, you turn to continue your task. The amount of plushies, blocks, his tool kits, and the kitchen supplies he has are more fun than witnessing this.

“Noa, it’s not right to hit Mm. She’s your mom and your friend. You can’t hit her.”

Noa growls. “Yes, I can!” Izuku shakes his head no. “It’s hurting her feelings, Noa. That’s not right.”

Noa takes this in for literally three seconds. He side eyes his dad and says, “No.”

Izuku frowns which is new to Noa. “It's not nice. You are going to stop hitting, Noa Midoriya. Understand?" Izuku's firm voice is just as new to Noa.  

You turn to look and see Noa’s eyes watering. His voice wobbles. “Sorry.”

Izuku holds him close and rubs his toddler's back. “Hitting people is in the past. Now let’s grow.” He kisses Noa's wet cheek. 

Noa gets down and waddles to you. He squeezes you tight and says sorry. The tears and snot on his face are wiped on your pant leg. You didn't get this treatment when you tried to talk to him.

You put your hands on your hips. “Why the hell-”

Noa points his finger at you. “She smack too!” Snitch ass.

“Imma smack you!” 

“(Y/n)!”

-

Noa listens intently to your words of The Greatest Love Story. You’ve read it numerous times, yet he still gets excited. Strangely, Izuku does as well. His green eyes are so vibrant as you read the book.

Izuku has his head on your lap and Noa lays on his papa's chest that he covers a chunk of. If this project continues for a while, Noa may be as big as he is. It is almost impossible to fathom but likely that the heroes will do that. How do you even care for a teenager? You can barely take care of yourself.

“(Y/n),” Izuku murmurs. You stop reading for him to continue. “Thank you for everything.”

“What?” 

“You’ve made me so happy, dearie. I don't know when I smiled so much or even felt this important without the world on my shoulders. I don’t have to fight or die when I’m with you.” He looks away, bashful as always. “I’m…at peace. I’m happy.”

Deep inside, you know it is about Noa. Without him, Izuku wouldn’t give you the time of day. Nevertheless, you’ll take what you can get from him. You will gladly accept and cherish this moment. It's not going to last forever, and you know this. Izuku's new content and relaxed nature with you will end when Noa fades away. Still, you will accept these precious moments anyway, despite the ache it will leave. 

“Since the wars, I’ve felt so guilty. Everyone got dragged into it. Even you. For years I let it eat at me, and I always will,” His eyes meet yours. “Then I saw you.” His finger reaches your cheek to poke it. His eyelids are droopy. He's so close to sleep that he doesn't realize he's saying this out loud.

“Thank you for everything. Thank you for listening.” His hand lowers while yours reaches his curly head and massages it. Your hand goes through his soft, thick strands easily.  Izuku drifts to sleep and into a peaceful dream.   "My pleasure."

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

You finish the report happily. It started off rocky but the ending is great. You staple on the copy of Noa’s new birth certificate. Happiness isn’t enough to describe this feeling.

The light of the sun is bright and shines in your room. Around this time, Izuku would Facetime or call. He could be doing anything. Most likely, it’s training since he hasn’t been doing it very often. You still feel guilty when he reassures you that it’s okay. However, he is apparently quirkless and thus needs the extra training that he’s been skimping out on which adds onto your guilt.

“I miss Papa.” Noa’s small voice whispers. His fluffy head peeks out from his blanket.

“And I miss when you used to behave. Think about that.”

He pouts and sniffles. His little feet pad against the wooden floor. You turn in your chair to look at him and spot the blue paper he has in his hand. “You want to give that to him?”

You bounce along to search for Izuku and show him the new cute thing Noa’s done. The little toddler ‘drew’ a big circle and squiggly lines and insisted that they were you, Izuku, and Noa. It will tickle his papa to see that Noa notices the little details and has his own spin on them. 

“Will he like it?” Noa squeezes your hand. “How could he not? This belongs on the fridge of fame!” You pick him up and give him a kiss. It’s amazing that even though he’s three, he is so freaking smart. 

  Just as you open the dorm’s door and stride into the yard, you see Izuku. He is standing with his back turned towards you with his gym outfit on and a towel over his shoulder. Immediately, Noa bounces up and down when he spots his papa. His little hand remains in yours as he tugs on you when he runs.   The two of you are in earshot of the group and what is being debated steals the breath from your lungs.

“Midoriya, she’s leaning on you too much.” The voice sounds bubbly. Not the current tone but it reminds you of bubble gum for some reason. Whoever said this must be normally peppy. You can’t remember her name, but she almost beat Kacchan in the Sports Festival this year. The one Noa didn’t allow you to witness and Izuku still holds the video that you haven’t watched.

“Uraraka’s right. You would’ve aced that test had she not asked for your help all of the time.” That one sounds familiar but you can’t place it. At Izuku's sides are a guy with weird elbows, the bubbly one, and Benio’s baby mama. The familiar voice must be in front of Izuku and his built body covers them. Even though you’re shocked by what’s happening, that doesn’t stop you from admiring his figure.

“There’s nothing wrong with anyone asking for help. And she isn’t asking-”

“Didn’t she ask you to babysit?” A couple of times, maybe?

“Hasn’t she literally brought Noa to you when you were studying when Kaibara’s right there?” When was that?

“I think it’s cool that you’re doing this. It really shows that you are genuinely kind. But Midoriya, don’t feel bad just because of what she’s going through. Kaibara is right there. Let him handle that." The tape guy places his hand on Izuku’s shoulder. His easy-to-draw face shows the concern he apparently has.

Izuku clenches his fists and releases. “You have no idea what you’re talking about-”

You suck in your lips to stop them from wobbling. Noa touches your leg. He tilts his head to the side. They’re right. You’ve been too dependent on him. He has absolutely nothing to do with this and you’ve dragged him into your drama time and time again. 

Noa shakes the paper with the drawing on it. You leave before anyone can hear him, most of all, Midoriya.

“Papa’s gotta see!” The talking stops. You don’t stay to hear or see anything else that’s happening behind you. They’re right and that’s it. You… you are too reliant. Noa did run away and could have gotten hurt. Did he feel pressured to sign the paper? He seemed happy but heroes lie all the time. Just like now, these people have a smile on their faces when they see you but will say these things behind your back.

You stop walking. What the hell are you doing?

You turn back around and stomp towards the group. “So, I push things onto him, yeah?”

The green-haired bastard turns around. His face lights up until he sees the steam coming out of your ears. “Dear-” 

“Hush!” You stomp over to his friends. “Which one? Which one thinks I’m pushing things?” A boy with yellow hair and a lightning bolt stripe on it peeks from around Izuku. Fucking Denki! No wonder it sounded familiar.

You take Noa’s drawing and roll it up. He goes to protest but you slip him under your arm like a football. Without hesitation, you swing his paper at them in various places. Benio’s baby mama is the first to go. The paper swats her in the face then Denki Kaminari is next with several hits. The tape guy gets a jab in the face whereas the pink-cheeked one takes a beating since she has a big fucking mouth. 

Izuku tries to grab the paper from you. In return, you swing it at him. “Dumb,” Smack. “Ass,” Smack. “Mother-”

He picks you up and is careful with Noa. “I dare any of you to say-let me go, stupid! Let me go! I’m not done-”

“Yes, you are.” His tone is harsh and stern; it makes you tense for a moment.

He enters the general studies dormitory with you over his shoulder. He goes up the stairs rather than take the elevator. The people who roam around stare at you. Ema in particular stops chewing her sandwich and watches with wide eyes.

You can’t believe this. “Why are you not saving me-”

Izuku goes up another flight of stairs, completely ignoring everyone. He sets Noa down and searches your back pocket for your room key. He unlocks the door and Noa runs in first towards his art set. 

He puts you down and slams the door. Looking at his frown pisses you off. “You weren’t going to say anything. How many times have they talked shit about me, huh?” He doesn’t respond. Izuku’s chest falls and rises. You get up and go up to him. 

“You suck! God, if you want to leave, then leave!”

“No!” Noa runs to his papa. Ah, shit. 

“Papa’s not going anywhere, buddy. Don’t you worry about that, okay?” Noa squeezes his leg. Izuku kneels down to Noa’s level. “Alright? I’m not leaving.”

“She say-”

“Mm doesn’t understand that I’m not leaving. I’ll tell her.” Noa gives his papa a big kiss. Izuku sets him on his bed. Noa jumps on it. “I won’t be high!”

“Good!” Izuku turns to you. “I’m not leaving."

“You didn’t tell them. If we are such a burden, then the door is always open for you to go. I’m not going to let people think that way of us.” He sighs and comes closer. You end up backing up a few steps and hit the wall. Why's he mad at you? You didn't do anything wrong.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. They may be my friends, and I love them dearly, but they are wrong. This is my choice. You have never forced anything on me," His green eyes trail over your face. They soften greatly. "You know, I’m pretty sure they get the hint where you’re concerned. I haven’t seen them look like that in years.”

“And I’ll do it again.” You wanted and needed to release your anger. It's about time you let go. Who knows? Maybe hitting them with paper wasn't the right thing to do. Maybe you needed something heavier.

His hands are pressed on the wall by your sides. “I’m not going. I need you to breathe,” He sighs and leans in. “I’m not leaving, and you are not a burden. I’m happy to be here. I’m happy with you. Let me deal with them, (Y/n).”

 Your arms are crossed and you look down. Noa keeps jumping on the bed while witnessing this. Although Izuku assured that he’d handle it, you can’t scratch out what they said nor can you let go of how he acted like a manic caveman. Both things are uncomfortable and he may not fully understand.

 “What they said-”

“Is wrong. How can you be a burden?" He stops talking and moves his arms away. Izuku rubs the back of his neck. "How can you be a burden when it's fun to be around you? You’re smart, funny, a good person-”

“Izuku?”

“You’re strong and brave, creative and a fighter.” He's counting on his fingers.

“Um-” You've seen his muttering episodes, but this is the first time it's about you and not your quirk. His low voice continues without a hitch. Izuku looks directly into your eyes without shame. He may not realize that he’s verbally saying these things. “You smell good, and dress nice, you let Noa help you get ready which I think is really cute, and-” He freezes completely. His eyes are totally blank. If he was a robot, he’d be considered on the fritz.

 Izuku covers his mouth to quiet the shriek. Because you’re a nice person, you change the subject.

“Look at his picture, Deku.” You mimic that one girl’s voice. What is that pink cheek's name? There is something there that can sense that she's going to be trouble. Not only was she talking mad shit about you, but you didn't like how she looked at her Deku.

You still had a hold on it when he carried you away. You hand him the blue paper. With a grin, he compliments it and agrees that it needs to be on the fridge of fame. “Hear that Noa? It’s going up!”

“Yes!” His little hands snatch it from his papa’s. He runs out the door with the two of you quickly behind. Noa bursts through the kitchen and puts one of the kids’ magnets on his paper. The little cupcake magnet and drawing stand out among the Post-it notes and lists. 

“What’s all this?” Izuku, who has calmed down, touches one of the post-its that is losing its stickiness. You shrug and read it. “My list.”

You haven’t wanted to think about it, honestly. Not that you’re procrastinating, it’s just sad to think about. Everyone has a section of the kitchen. Yeah, it’s normal for everyone to borrow something from others, but it is still embarrassing when you’re the one who is constantly doing it. Throughout the years, you hoped you’d appear as a minimalist or something and not the struggling student that you’ve always been. Now that Izuku is frowning at your list and is opening your things, you are becoming mortified. How did he miss it in the first place? He was right here in the kitchen the other day.

“(Y/n)-”

You point to all the items you have. “Noa isn’t going without, okay? Look, I have food.” Izuku doesn’t say anything. Not one word. The clock dings a new hour.

“(Y/n), I want you to take this,” He digs into his pocket and pulls out his wallet. “And get some groceries. I have to go so you’re going to have to go alone.”

His card is sleek and looks new. There isn't any wear and tear on it at all. “No.” Your response is automatic and made from a prideful will that has been built for years. Humiliation can sink into your flesh and make you hotter than a stove all it wants to, but the defense for your parenting and survival is something that can’t wait. 

“Bunny, please take it-”

“No! I’m not a charity.” You snap.

He frowns as you point to the clock. “You have something to do, right? Noa, give sugars!”

Noa hugs Papa tight. “I’ll see you soon, Bub. And you,” Izuku points to you. “We’ll talk later.”

As he walks out of the dorm reluctantly. You watch as he disappears and wonder if you messed up.     ----------

“Mm! I want something different.” He swishes his spoon that rested in his little white bowl. You sigh and look down at your hands. The soup is one you know by heart and rely on when times are tough. At his age, you were saying the same thing about the tomato soup. You now know what your mother felt during times of struggle. You suck in your lips and try to reason with Noa. “Just one more bite?”

He groans and pouts. He flicks his blue spoon again. “I want Papa.” 

Yeah, this is way too familiar. “Noa, one more bite. Then you can talk to Papa. It’s dinnertime so he may be on his way.” Noa lights up and bounces in his chair. He happily scoops up some of his food and chews the noodles. “Mm, okay!” He extends his arms for the phone. You dial for Izuku and hand Noa the phone. 

The entire time you don’t speak another word. You grab his unfinished food and your empty bowl that you reluctantly ate. In the pot is the soup you grew up with and you too became tired of it. You stir it as you look at its bits of onion and noodles. 

“Mm, here you go! Papa had to leave but he’ll be home, okay?” He kisses your cheek and runs away to the living room. You wipe your hands on your apron. 

You see the soup in the pot again and pour it out. You hang your head low and hit the counter with your hand. Relying on Deku for everything is not an option. You are an independent person who has fought and lived through the rough patches. No way are you going to rely on a partner for a project. What if you become accustomed to it? What if you become reliant on him and lose your way? He’s a nice man who decided that he really likes Noa. Nothing more than that. It’s ridiculous he offered his card in the first place. 

Noa only ate a few bites. You need to get him to eat a little more but what? He’s been so picky lately, that it’s hard to keep up. At least Izuku feeds him well. When he’s with you, he refuses. Damn, your stupid, stupid pride. You take a deep breath and bite your lip. This project is stupid. What purpose does it serve? How is this helping you with anything other than increasing your hatred? Not just for heroes, but everything and everyone? Noa’s feelings about the tiring soup in the sink are too relatable. This project makes you feel so guilty, so inadequate. Is this how your mother felt when raising you? Did Izuku’s mama feel this way, too? Does he share the same feelings as you have right now?

Behind you, a familiar voice calls out. You quickly wipe your face as Noa’s hurried little feet pad across the floor. Speak of the devil, and he’ll appear. Izuku Midoriya stands behind you with Noa in one arm and a pizza in his other hand. The gesture is nice, it’s great. God, do you want to crumble that pizza in his face. 

He sets them both down and grabs Noa a plate. “Here you go, bud. Go sit at the table.”

You remember back in the day, your mother would always say that the crust was her favorite part. Back then, you thought she was weird and didn’t realize that she was lying so you could eat. Looking at this giant pie that’s in front of you, you don’t have to repeat her words. And God, you hate Izuku for it. You’re happy and grateful even when this ball that goes from your stomach to your chest feels like he’s doing it out of spite. He’s not doing it to hurt you, you’re positive of that. He probably already picked it up before Noa called. 

“Hey.” Izuku walks to you tentatively. His eyes scan you for anything out of place. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Dear, please.”

“I’m fine.” You walk past him until his arm sticks out to block you. His hand is spread against the wall to your side. His fingers still have specks of dirt on them and his knuckles are red again. What happened to his suit? He must’ve had a long day.

“Darling, please, what’s wrong?” You shake your head and side eye him. You miss the days where he was a bashful puppy dog. You’re happy that he’s comfortable and doesn’t look constipated all the time, though. “Nothing.”

He furrows his brows. “Did something happen? Did Kaibara mess with you?” 

“No, no. It’s not that. I’ll deal with it on my own. It’s a personal problem.”

“The teachers? My friends? Who did it-”

You stop him. “No one did anything! It’s not that!” He sighs and tilts his head. “Please tell me. I can help.”

You know he can. He has given you the answer but it isn’t the answer you want. You need to stand on your own and here he is saying lean on him, let him carry you. This is new. Brand new and so shiny it hurts. You’re afraid to break it so you begin to hate its temptation to use it. 

His provision won’t last. The project could end at any time. 

“I don’t need you.” He looks struck for a second then recovers quickly. “Is this about the card?”

“No.”

“(Y/n).”

Noa tears into his slice of pizza that he dismembered. The cheese is to the side and has been picked on like a bird’s pecks. “He’s not eating what I can give him.”

“He’s at that stage. It’s normal, (Y/n).” You shake your head. “I mean, I can only give him the same thing over and over. He’s tired of it.”

Izuku hums and grabs a hold of your shoulders. “Well, that only means we’re going to the store.”

“I don’t need-”

“I’m his dad, right?”

“Yeah.”

“So, I have to make sure he eats and if that means filling the fridge up, I’ll do it.” 

There was a time when your mother would have jumped at this kind of offer. The time she was sick of soup and a five dollar pizza was a luxury she only got once in a blue moon. Now, here it is in front of you. It’s shiny like a diamond but temporary. 

“I’ll pay for my own things.” 

“If your friends were to ask you for something, would you give it to them if you had the means?”

“Yeah.” Maybe. Not likely.

“Good. Now eat so we can go.”

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

Noa is hand and hand with the both of you. He swings around and giggles. Izuku looks at you in the corner of his eye. “I don’t mean to trample on your feelings.”

“Which one?"

 He sighs. "I'd like to hear them all, if you don't mind."

 You point at him and answer, "I'm not accustomed to being manhandled or told what to do, first of all." He twirls a green curl. A subtle flush blooms on his face. "Sorry about that. It was wrong of me, wasn't it?"

 "Yes, it was, you deranged caveman. And this," You wave your hand in the air. "I'm not used to it."

“I understand." He licks his lips. "I don't mean to hurt your feelings. I want to do the exact opposite."

Noa doesn't notice the conversation. Or maybe he does and isn't caring. “I appreciate it, I swear, but no one has ever done any of this, y’know? It’s like giving up the reins.”

“You're not-”

“Then I look at him and think I'm failing.” Izuku holds the door open for you. Noa skips the lines on the floor, hopping over them so he can stick to his pattern. Izuku grabs the cart and sticks Noa inside it, much to the toddler’s dislike. “You are not failing.”

Izuku brings out a sheet of paper with your handwriting on it from his pocket. He must’ve taken it when you weren’t looking. Seeing the length, it feels like someone is reading your homework in front of the class and you got every question wrong. 

“Stop comparing yourself to people who have more and realize how far you’ve gotten without the resources they have. Noa is the oldest out of all of them. That alone should tell you that you are,” He puts his hand on your back and rubs circles on it. “An amazing mom. Don’t listen to those thoughts, okay?”

He reaches behind you and pulls All Might fruit snacks from the shelf. You roll your eyes. “That’s not on the list.”

“It is for me.” He looks at the box and murmurs about it being Silver Age All Might. You laugh and he perks up. "There she is."

The three of you continue on through the store, putting things in the cart from the list and then some. You are looking at noodles when you hear Izuku’s excited voice. 

“Hey, look!” Izuku goes to a small section of hero merchandise. “Noa, do you like it?” 

Izuku holds an All Might t-shirt in a slightly bigger size for Noa. Then, much to Izuku’s dismay and surprise, Noa wrinkles his nose and says that he doesn’t like All Might. Not because of the design of the shirt, but because to Noa, All Might wasn’t a good hero. 

You’re going to strangle them both. Here you are with a cart filled with food and your two boys are arguing. Izuku Midoriya, the famed Deku, is arguing with a three-year-old on why All Might is a great hero. 

“Nuh-uh!” Noa shakes his head. You cover your face with your hand. “Yes huh!”

Several people turn to look at the scene. Some look amused and others look at you to separate the two boys. You yank the shirt away and put it into the cart. You pull both of their ears. “Okay, Noa, you can wear the shirt to bed so no one will see it. Izuku, it’s okay if he doesn’t like All Might.” 

“Ow.” 

“Hush. Y’all so embarrassing, oh my God.” Noa sits in the cart which you leave with Izuku. When he opens his mouth, you snap. “Eh! No, it’s done, it’s over, boys!” You walk away shaking your head. Other mothers raise their eyebrows in shock at the two miscreants. 

“Sorry, sorry.” You quickly head to the other aisle. 

Suddenly, you hear two voices not belonging to your boys. They call out Izuku’s hero name. Curious, you peek around the corner to watch. He is stiff as a board when they take pictures with him. You can’t help but smile at his discomfort. 

The guy in the yellow points to Noa. “Oh, it’s one of the U.A. babies!” 

“I thought they were smaller?” The other sport horns on their head and has whiskers.

Shit, shit, shit! You turn into the aisle. Before you can take another step, Izuku’s soft expression towards Noa makes you stop. “Yeah, he’s mine. They grow! He’s already three. Aren’t you?” 

Noa kicks his feet and repeats his age. It’s heartwarming seeing how proud he is of Noa. Alas, there is a deep feeling that this is about to go south soon. As if you manifested it, one of them asks, “So, when’s the big showdown anyway?”

“What?”

They ignore his question and keep talking. “Don’t get me wrong, it’s nice to see at least one hero give a damn. But I still don’t think this project is fair.”

You suppress a smile from their support. “I agree. It doesn’t make sense to me and a lot of us. But I’m happy to be a part of it. I mean, look at him!”

One of the fans bounces and waves at Noa which he returns. “He looks just like you!” Clearly, Noa favors you! Now is not the time to argue about it, though. What you need to do is get Izuku away from them.

“He does look a lot like me, huh?” Izuku’s voice is soft and his eyes match the tone. It’d be a sweet moment if his fans weren’t talking. 

“Doesn’t that mean you spend a lot of time with him? I saw on-”

“Yeah! The class with all the babies talks about it a lot. Leave it to Deku to be a great dad to Noa!” 

Izuku’s bashful face turns into confusion. “Wait, how do you know-”

“From the videos. What are they-I think General Studies are putting an argument together! Isn’t that cool?” 

Izuku’s eyes widen and his mouth parts. The horned one waves their arms. “I-I’m sure not you, though! I mean, look at Noa! Clearly, you’re one of the good ones.”

“As expected! Even though heroes are acting like shit.” They mutter.

Izuku turns his head to you, who is standing at the end of the aisle no doubt looking like a deer in headlights. His fans follow and wave at you. “See! Her, right there.”

You were so stressed out about the project, you forgot that people have eyes and memories. You didn’t expect people to recognize you. If only you could have snuck out of here like a smooth criminal. 

“Good luck with Hawks!”

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

Izuku carries in the groceries all by himself while you handle Noa. He even helps put the stuff away despite it being past curfew to enter the dorms. The three of you barely made it in time. 

“Izuku?” He remains quiet and picks Noa up. He goes to your room, making you follow him. Like the magician he is, Izuku managed to get Noa to sleep just by walking to your room. He changes his son's clothes and tucks him in. 

“He can brush his teeth in the morning.” Noa’s papa whispers. In his hand is the bag with the things Noa threw in there. Some toys, a random hat, and a magazine about pandas he found in the checkout. Izuku takes all of it out and starts to put stuff away. 

“Izuku, please say something.” Izuku straightens up with more of Noa’s things in his hand to put them in the proper place. 

“I need some of his things in my room too.” If it were a different situation, you may have giggled given how fatherly he’s acted today while wearing a t-shirt that hugs him loosely with the word “Dad” on it.

“S-sure. We can do tomorrow since-”

He interrupts you. “Why didn’t you tell me?” 

You start to stutter. “B-because I knew you’d be against it since it has to do with your friends and the teachers you adore so much. If you knew that we’re building a case against you guys, you’d’ve been furious!”

He doesn’t say anything but continues to put Noa’s things away in drawers. He then goes to your bed and starts to make it. “Izuku, please. You know I’m right.”

He stops tucking in the comforter and stares at you. “You should’ve told me, (Y/n).”

You shift on your feet and bite your lip. “Izuku, I’m not trying to hurt you. Just the heroes and your friends.”

He sighs and finishes the bed. It’s pristine and so tight you could bounce a quarter on it. “Why can’t you be honest with me?”

“About me going to your boss’s boss and telling him of this travesty? You would have accepted that? Come on, Izuku. You’d’ve hated me. Hell, you’re mad now!”

“I know I’m mad! I’m pissed off. Not just because you’re going to attack my friends and our teachers, but you lied.” He fluffs your pillows and arranges them in proper order.

“Lied?”

“Lying by omission. You didn’t even say anything. Damn it, (Y/n). Why didn’t you trust me? Why aren’t you giving my friends a chance?”

You scoff at his take and his hypocrisy. Does he not remember hiding the caregiver situation? “A chance? They’ve had months of chances and they’ve turned them away. And your dear teachers add to our pain with no remorse. Yes, yes, I didn’t tell you. Yes, I am taking everyone to the hero commission. It's going to hurt. But this is happening. We’re struggling, we’re in pain. Damn it, Deku. How many times do I have to cry in front of you for you to understand what’s really going on?”

He clenches his fists then let's go. You continue your rant relentlessly. “Not to mention that whole caregiver thing you were hiding! Yeah, I still remember that. So, let us not forget who the liar is here.”

"Oh my-" He stops in the middle of his sentence and looks around your room. You roll your eyes and gesture around. "You're running out of things to clean. What's next? The windows? Need some Windex?" 

His eyes go to your window and to your door. He heads to it before he's stopped by your hand. "Okay, no, no, no!" Izuku's nostrils are flared. The deep frown looks like it'll be permanent if he doesn't ease up. He clenches his fists repeatedly then lets go.

“I’m sorry, (Y/n), I’m sorry! I get it. A false hero society, right?” He sighs and plops down on your bed. Izuku rubs his face. “I know, I know. You’re not the first one.”

The confession makes you freeze. He goes on, “What’s happening is wrong. You’re right about that. But why couldn’t you have told me? Trust me? Yes, I messed up several times. Probably more than I’ve made you feel safe, (Y/n).”

He’s hurt you and lied. However, he has made you feel safe before. You aren't taking that from him.

“Because these people are heroes and you look up to them. I couldn’t risk you turning us in when we’re not ready. I’m still afraid you’ll go against me,” You stare into his green eyes. “I’m gunning for all of the heroes. The way you feel the need to fight a villain is the same way I feel. We’ve been wronged time and time again. You can’t see it since it’s not happening to you. Izuku, hon, you’re important to me but this is important too.”

He can keep a secret, just like he did when he knew you were working. But this concerns the people he loves. His steps reach you in no time. He whispers, “It’ll hurt me. But as long as it’s you, then fine.” 

Before, it may have been genuine but now it sounds like he’s reminding himself to set an alarm clock or do homework. After a few beats of silence, you ask, “Are you going to tell?”

Gazing into your eyes, he says, “I’m going to help. Tell me what to do.”

If he’d let you, you’d give him a kiss that’d rival his dream. The one that was from The Greatest Love Story. In the book, it is said that there were only a few legendary kisses. If he would want it, you’d give him another. Not because you’re using him for the cause, but because it’s him. 

“Honestly, I need help with um, insider information,” He raises his brows. “I also need help with school. We all do, actually. You see, this project is messing with us. It’s hard to take care of kids, go to school full time, work, and plan mass destruction.”

You intended for that to be playful, and it fell flat instead.

“I’ll help you. We can study together some more.” He tilts his head. “I have some of my old notes that you guys can use, too.”

You know what he’s doing. Izuku’s trying to distract himself from what’s bothering him. Because of Noa, he’s put himself directly into the line of fire. Metaphorically sacrificing himself. And this happens after he thanked you for being a safe haven. How do you make it better?

“I’ll take Noa more often. We need to bond more anyway.” 

“Are you sure about this?” His green curls move when he nods his head. He hugs you, fitting your face against him. “What’s happening is wrong. It’s not fair to you or anyone else.”

You nod and hug him back since he’s muffled your mouth. He has gotten relaxed with you to where he can talk and touch without turning into a tomato. Izuku doesn't hesitate to call you an affectionate name since the two of you are friends. He feels comfortable enough to argue with you without stuttering. You don't like that but at least he'd tell you what he feels. Right now, you ripped that away from him. 

Suddenly, his pocket vibrates. Izuku hums and brings it out. On it is the name Ochako. He hides the message and sticks it back in his pocket. Before you can bring it up, he hugs you again. 

His shoulders shake and there is a sniffle in your ear. “Izuku, be honest with me. If this is too much, let me know.” You whisper.

In response, Izuku rubs your back in circles. You know that he agrees that the baby project is nonsensical, but the people who you are punishing are his friends and comrades. Heroes need to be put in their place but Izuku's crying. How do you make it less painful? 

  You hug him tighter and place soft kisses on him as wet droplets fall on your shoulder.

-

@xoxoangellll @js-favnanadoongi @imas1mpp @candiiee @moodyhuesworld @dinorawrss @luvrluvrr @bigchungusdrinksspritecranberry @d4n1elll4 @4ishere @lunavixia @shortchubbybibi

if you weren't tagged let me know!

[shadamyheadcanons]

Thoughts on Shadouge? I used to ship it casually years ago just because I was looking at possibilities of a love interest for Shadow which I didn't consider for a long time, but it quickly lost its appeal for me. I know you said you don't think it works which I agree with and I'm curious about your reasoning.

Explanation under the cut. There’s nothing too negative, but I always feel bad when these wind up in tags and searches for the ship name.

To start, I will say that it doesn’t feel “wrong” to me like most Shadow ships do. I get where shadouge fans are coming from, and I’ve never met a shadouge shipper who was pushy or unpleasant about it. That’s rare in fandoms. I like how low-key they are. :)

As for the ship itself, I don’t buy it because they’re just so solidly best friends. I’ve never seen anything that I’d call romantic between them.

For Shadow, I see two important (living) women in his life right now:

One is a consistent, reliable rock who’s always going to support him and back him up because of who he is.

The other is a light, a beacon who guides him and inspires him to be the best version of himself he can be.

To me, one of those looks like a best friend, and the other looks like a love interest. He needs both, but in my opinion, it’s clear which one’s which. He’s level-headed around Rouge, and while he probably trusts her more than anyone, he looks at her the same way he looks at everyone else. Heck, he looks at her the same way he looks at Omega. I can’t imagine Rouge successfully convincing him to dress up for a murder mystery birthday party or getting him to go to a silly pop concert the way a certain pink hedgehog can, nor can I see her trying to in the first place; Amy’s the only one who can pull him out of his comfort zone like that. The most Rouge does is convince him to go to Sonic’s birthday party, and even then, she has to bribe him. Rouge’s flirtation just bounces off of Shadow, too. He doesn’t have a weak point for her. Looking at Shadow’s behavior, I think he has a soft spot for cute girls, and Rouge isn’t cute.

As for Rouge herself, she’ll support Shadow to hell and back, but we know what love looks like in her eyes. I’m not getting out of bed until she looks at someone else like this:

Rouge and Shadow are too similar in a particular way. They’re both Machiavellian, willing to go to questionable lengths to get the job done. The same goes for Omega. It’s what makes them such a good team, but a good teammate isn’t the same as a love interest. Knuckles won her over by doing the right thing and saving her life even though he had every reason not to.

I actually have some headcanons about Rouge’s past that feed into this concept. I believe Rouge grew up poor and didn’t have too many people she could trust. She had to steal for her own survival, and she learned to cling to whatever wealth she could find. She keeps a lot of secrets to this day because it’s safer. She learned the hard way that no one can hurt her if she won’t let them in.

In time, Rouge met one guy who was on her wavelength who she knew she could trust, and she met another who swept her off her feet, whose altruism upended her pessimistic outlook of how people are.

One of those looks like a best friend, and the other looks like a love interest. She needs both, but it’s clear to me which one’s which.

And of course there’s the matter of commitment. Rouge can’t stay grounded, so to speak, in the kind of stable relationship that would do Shadow a world of good. She’d rather flit around and tease everyone in sight, delighting in all the blushes she can bring out; in her own way, she likes cuteness, too. Amy, meanwhile, prefers to cling to one person, sharing the same steady devotion Shadow could provide in turn. She’s sunshine incarnate. He needs that.

Thanks for the ask!

[silentsneezes]

ignore this if you only write mlm but caitvi allergiessss.....

i generally write mlm relationships because i tend to hyper fixate on them more often, but i'm always happy to receive any asks! it's my first time writing cait/vi, so if their dynamic is off just lmk!

with that said, here's 1.4k of v/i suffering from allergies

After an admittedly rocky start to their relationship, Vi and Caitlyn have managed to settle into a peaceful domesticity. At least, as peaceful as it can be for the couple. They’ve only been living together for a couple of months, and it’s certainly had its ups and downs. Except now they seem to have found a steady contentment in sharing Caitlyn’s old apartment, which is nice by any standards. Its rich architecture differs vastly from the home Vi was raised in, but she’s started to make it her own as well: hanging posters where Caitlyn permits, reorganizing cupboards to better accommodate her height, and framing pictures of her family in the living room. 

There’s only one problem that’s currently at the forefront of their focus. It’s not nearly as pressing as any of the issues they've faced before, but it’s giving Vi one hell of a time. The problem being spring in Piltover; everything is in full bloom, flowers displayed proudly in most yards or gardens, and the spring breeze carrying enough pollen to create a yellow coating over most outdoor areas. 

Vi’s allergies have only really set in the past few days as spring has officially come about, and they’re practically insufferable for her. She’s not one to admit to weaknesses or discomfort, especially not to those she cares deeply for– ironic, isn’t it? The only person who can level with her stubbornness is Cait, and even then it’s a painstaking process. 

The couple sits idly in their living room, Vi’s leg draped over Cait’s as she stretches out on their couch. The windows throughout the apartment are sealed tightly, despite Caitlyn’s typical preference of leaving them ajar to allow for a pleasant breeze. She’d learned her lesson two days ago, having left the bedroom window without second thought, only to wake up to Vi muffling a fit into her pillow. It’s safe to say she won’t be doing that again.

As Vi pesters her nose with her shirt sleeve, rubbing the itchy appendage side to side roughly, Cait pulls a neatly folded handkerchief from her pocket, murmuring a soft, “here” as she offers it to her girlfriend.

“I’m fine, cupcake. I don’t want to soil your- hhhh-handkerchief,” Vi denies, her voice catching part way through the sentence but still continuing with steadfast determination. Cait rolls her eyes at Vi’s denial of her handkerchief, her gaze flicking down to observe the wet patch forming on her girlfriend’s sleeve. 

“So you’d rather soil your shirt instead?” she teases, pressing her hankie into Vi’s palm despite her refusal. 

“Point taken,” Vi mumbles, rubbing the silky synthetic fabric between two fingers. She turns it over, grinning as she notices Caitlyn’s initials embroidered neatly in the corner of the white cloth. She bites her tongue from teasing Caitlyn, knowing her girlfriend chooses to indulge in expenses such as these. Afterall, who is she to judge? If she’d grown up as rich as Caitlyn, she probably would’ve spent money on much more trivial things than embroidering a handkerchief— likely excessive amounts of booze and a good pipe similar to the one Vander had always used.

She smiles at Caitlyn with a fond expression, raising a hand to cup her cheek. Her fingers are rough and calloused against Caitlyn’s porcelain skin, and yet Caitlyn leans into the touch, her eyes drifting closed in a moment of vulnerability.

A moment rudely interrupted by the recurring itch plaguing Vi’s nose, “hhH- god, this fuckhhing- hhuh- hhH’sZSsChhew!” 

“Ble-,” Caitlyn starts, only to be interrupted with a second, “hhHSZxChh!” caught into the folds of the handkerchief. 

“Bless you,” she murmurs softly, watching as an allergic tear slips down her cheek, “oh darling, your allergies really are miserable today.”

Vi snorts back the liquid clinging to the base of her nose with a rough snNRK. Caitlyn restrains herself from tutting, hearing her mother’s sharp command of “Manners, Caitlyn,” ring in her ears. But she is not her mother, for better or for worse, so she shoves aside the urge to correct Vi’s behavior. 

Vi leans forward as she groans, burying her nose in Caitlyn’s shoulder and mumbling, “you’re lucky I love you enough to live here.” 

Caitlyn laughs, a hand coming up to stroke Vi’s hair, “lucky to hear your symphony of sneezes, hm?” 

Vi doesn’t reply, instead pulling away from her girlfriend and pitching to the side. She barely raises her arm in time to half-cover the sudden expulsions, “hh’ehTSCHhhew– hhKsSXCHh!” 

“Goodness, bless you,” Caitlyn exclaims in slight surprise at the force of the sneezes, cringing ever so slightly at the spray that lingers in the air. 

Vi keeps her wrist held loosely in front of her face as she scrunches up her twitching nose, trying to coax out the next sneeze. After a particularly disappointing false start, Vi finally lowers her hand. 

“You know, the handkerchief is only helpful if you use it,” Caitlyn prompts in amusement. 

Vi huffs quietly, but picks up the hankie and wipes her nose roughly, leaving it tinged with a pinkish red hue, “happy now?” 

“Very,” Caitlyn murmurs, her hand returning to its position on Vi’s head. Her fingers work their way through her girlfriend’s pink hair, scratching gently along her scalp and eliciting a quiet noise of contentment, one only Caitlyn has the privilege of hearing. 

“How do Pilties- hhh- live like thhhHis…not aghhain,” Vi’s taunt is broken between hitching breaths, her frustrated expression melting into her customary ‘pre-sneeze’ expression. A few seconds pass, silent save for her huffing and hitching. She groans as it only results in another false start, berating her nose once again. 

“I’d suspect most Zaunites are sensitive to the pollen in Piltover. Our ecosystems-”

“hhHSZCchh! snDf. Sorrhhy cupcake, not dhhH- hhK’tSCHhh! done,” Vi excuses lamely, tilting her head back against the couch in exasperation. Her nostrils flare, quivering with every inhale she takes. 

“Bless you, bless you darling,” Caitlyn murmurs for what must’ve been the hundredth time that day. Vi had given up in trying to convince Caitlyn to stop blessing her every time, knowing her girlfriend’s manners are far too ingrained for her to stop. 

“Thangks,” Vi mutters, kneading her nose against the palm of her hand with a wet squelch. 

“Vi,” Caitlyn tuts, unable to resist the slight admonishment at her partner’s lack of etiquette.

“Cait,” Vi responds with a grin, lowering her hand and smirking at her girlfriend's slight annoyance. Wordlessly, Caitlyn presses the handkerchief back into Vi’s hand, reminding her that there’s a better way to attend to her nose than with her palm. 

Examining the fabric again, Vi questions, “you really take this everywhere you go?”

“Yes, I do,” Caitlyn responds, her hand resuming its gentle affection against Vi’s scalp. 

“Hm, seems like a lot of work just to carry around a snot rag.” Caitlyn scoffs slightly at Vi’s use of the words “snot rag”, flicking her head in response. 

“Hey!” Vi laughs, “I’m just saying, it can’t be- hhH- can’t- hheh… hhiH-”

“Can’t what, love,” Caitlyn teases, knowing Vi will take it as a challenge to speak through the building sneezes. 

“Can’t bhhHSZXSxch! be saniiiH-iHSKSCHHhew! sanitary to hhuh- fugkKHSSZsch’uh!” Vi gives up, fumbling to grab the hankie and muffle the ensuing fit. Caitlyn’s initial amusement dissipates as Vi snaps forwards with sneeze after sneeze, gasping between each expulsion. 

Her hand moves to rub Vi’s back, murmuring soft comforts as the fit unfolds, “there you go, just breathe… I’ve got you… oh, that was a big one, hm?”

Once the sneezing subsides, Vi blows her nose messily into the folds of the handkerchief, tossing its sodden form onto the coffee table once she’s done. 

“Bless you Vi. Are you okay?”

“I’mb ogkay- snDFF- I’m okay,” Vi mutters, resting back against Caitlin in exhaustion, “but your handkerchiefs not,” she jokes with a slight grin.

“Nothing a simple wash won’t fix,” Caitlin reassures her, her eyes flicking to see the discarded fabric, wet with mess. 

The couple remains on the couch for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening, staying closely intertwined as Vi struggles to control her allergies. Eventually, thank god, she finally agrees to take medicine to minimize her symptoms. Stubborn as she is, even she can recognize that she was fighting a losing battle. 

[gidianthe]

Dear Lily.

All day and all night I thought about writing you this letter, saw it unfold in my mind, and so now that I am here with my paper and my ink it does not seem like a real thing, but like a task one undertakes in a dream. When I am finished I will curl this paper up and tuck it in an acorn shell and throw it through your bedroom window; I dreamed this, too, and did I dream you? Are you real? Are you anything of flesh, do you breathe?

Sometimes, when I look out of your mirror at you, I think that I am looking at a piece of my own soul, torn loose and tossed into the world. Not because you belong to me, but because you are familiar and strange at the same time. Lily, you are a person, you are a creature all in your own right – and isn’t that curious? How can something like you have come to be? I want to unpick you, like stitches, to see what makes you run – but I won’t. I will content myself with drawing your name over my wrist-bone to consider how you turn my blood into gold.

You were small when I was small. I watched you through the bluestar, through the blazing star. It was my mother warned me against you, but I heard you singing in the cinnamon fern and thought you were beautiful: a thing I could never touch. Like the crest of Orion. Like the farthest Pleiades. You wore erythronium in your hair, like your name; the yellow trout lily. Lily, lily. Sometimes I think I would eat you if I could. There is a witch in a story who ate a girl she loved, and always afterwards when she spoke, flowers fell out of her open mouth. I would swallow you up, and you would be lobelia on my tongue for the rest of my life. This is what they say: it is not uncommon for us to want to eat what we love.

But you are uncommon. Every moment we have spent together is a shining stone in the bowl of my skull. I am greedy, and so I take them out and look at them now and then, like a dragon. The day we went to the buried well and threw butterfly weed down into the black water to count our wishes. The first time you stepped out of your dress for me, gold in the sun, yellow and gold. The night I brought you into the hill, when you clung to me like lichen and in the hall your eyes were cups of firelight. The day in the rain, both of us laughing.

Dear Lily: my mother taught me many things but she did not teach me this.

Where does it come from, the thread that ties us together? Who spun it? What is it composed of, what is its matter? I have half a mind to unpick myself, to find the source; but I won’t.

That day in the field of green-and-golds. You said who are you, where did you come from. I said I came from the hill; I am the girl who does not die. You laughed, and I fell in love with you, there. There: I wrote it down, I turned it into ink and made it something tangible (but you could burn this letter and I would still love you, so it must be something beyond matter). See it here in black and white. I love you, girl from the house on the hill, girl with the hair made of sunbeams. I love you, knot in my heart. I love you, hands on my hands, hands on my ribs, mouth on my mouth. I love you, stone in my shoe. I love only you. Only you. Only ever you.

Yours always Juniper

[flowerhashira-kanae]

“Mmmm I see. My apologies then.” She nods and listens to the girl. “Oh okay well do whatever it is that makes you feel the most comfortable. I have very good hearing.” She giggles softly and keeps reading the file. She likes all the things that she saw about her. She seemed like a sweet girl and that she liked to meet knew people but she wanted to gather more of her own knowledge without the paper. Her eyes widen at their statement. “That could be a very useful skill for demon slayers though they won’t be able to kill demons with you as a katana. I don’t understand why Muzan wouldn’t want to keep you but I’m glad you’re in better hands.” She smiles at him and nods her head. “It’s very nice to meet a fellow fighter as well. One of my friends is used to be a shinobi.”

*A red fox with a camellia flower red collar and a messenger bag scampers up to you before barking softly to get your attention, perhaps the little creature has something for you?*

She looks down at the smaller creature with a gentle smile. “Hello there little one how can I help you today?” She reaches her hand down slowly to let the little fox sniff her and get her scent.

[dykedvonte]

Curly had two days to act and Swansea had two months.

I think it’s just interesting that every defense of Swansea not immediately acting are the same ones that are argued against for Curly. “He didn’t want to alert Daisuke or makes things worse for Anya either Jimmy!” I mean people also assume that about Curly and the crew. “He has to think about his plan of action and a right moment!” Again so did Curly, power and authority aside, he still would have to think of what he had to do. “He makes sure he doesn’t have to be around Jimmy!” So did Curly and they only do this to an extent, both give Jimmy more than a few opening to keep harassing Anya.

This isn’t defense of Curly nor a damnation of Swansea. Their actions are very parallel to each others in tragic and sour ways when it comes to how they approached helping Anya. In the grand scheme of it all they both did the same thing: Nothing. No action either took stopped the inevitable outcome of her death nor Jimmy’s continued damage to themself.

The only real difference is Swansea didn’t like Jimmy which is pretty substantial, but also just as damning as Curly knowing how bad Jimmy could get to an extent. He had even less of a reason to wait, even more of a reason to act seeing as he was now worried for Anya AND Daisuke. He is not bound by the possible procedure as Captain and actively does not care about what happens next. So what does it matter if he acted in the moment? Why did he wait? I think he’s just as morally complex and grey as Curly and we hold him on a pedestal that still perpetuates things in rape culture the game critiques.

It’s not just enough to dislike and be abrasive to predators/abusers like Jimmy. It’s not enough to just put yourself between them and the other person. It’s not enough to hold tensions when you know someone is vulnerable. He and Curly do the exact same things but on different sides of the coin. I ask how is it better to not turn a blind eye but still not really do anything about what you are seeing? Not until it affects you atleast…

The game makes a big point to not put men doing the bare minimum or who wait to do more on pedestals and I’m actually surprised so many are missing that point.

[appropriatelystupid]

this might be an unpopular opinion but i’d rather have a full agnes of westview spinoff than only get more future agatha as a mentor/sidekick to billy and tommy

[gingergari]

hi i heard warueach design dropped

[imaginarypasta]

i’ve been trying to get through hoh for literally like a week now but it’s so hard bc the way my fave nico is treated is absolutely ABYSMAL and i know it only gets worse