#the spinner one sent me

[gece-misin-nesin]

bnha au except the league is a theatre troupe. they all have the same backstories as canon.

[llama-head]

My fyp page is full of Dabi from MHA….My roommate is the Dabi stan why is he showing up for me????

[blackbearmagic]

Ten, maybe more like twelve, years ago, I got a call from my friend Julie: "I have a bunch of yarn and I need to get rid of it. Come take as much as you want."

She had gotten the yarn from a coworker, who had in turn gotten it from her mother-in-law's estate. The woman had been an avid knitter for most of her life, and had amassed an absolute Smaug-load of fiber. Her daughter-in-law crocheted, but twenty contractor-sized trash bags of yarn was more than she alone could use. So she did her best to share it among fiber friends, like Julie. And Julie, having no need for that much yarn, sent out the word to all of her friends.

Much of the yarn was poor quality: old, dusty acrylic from brands long discontinued. There was some cotton mixed in, and a decent amount of wool. But I also found a plastic bag containing four loosely-wound balls of handspun. It was coarse and vaguely sticky, but I was intrigued by it, so I added it to the bags I took for myself.

And ever since, that bag of handspun has sat in my stash. It's gone through two moves with me. I kept telling myself I would make something out of it, but never did. The texture unnerved me. It wouldn't make a good hat, or scarf, or gloves. Nothing that would touch the skin. But I didn't know what I could do with it.

But last week, I decided it had sat for long enough. I had found, and made, a nice vest pattern with some of my own handspun. Surely this coarse yarn could be made into the same: an outer garment, worn over something with sleeves and a collar. I would make it to use up the yarn, and if I hated the end result, I would throw it in the donation box and make it someone else's problem.

As I wound the yarn onto my niddy-noddy to measure the yardage, though, I saw it in a new light. With my more experienced eyes and knowledge of spinning, I could see now that sections of it were under-spun, or over-plied. The twist was irregular, the drafting inconsistent. This wasn't just handspun yarn. This was likely someone's first or second attempt at spinning.

A chore became an honor.

I held an untold, unknowable story in my hands -- a story that had run up to a dead end. The sheep had been sheared, its fleece prepared, cleaned, carded, dyed; the roving had been spun into singles, plied into yarn. And there the yarn had sat, unused, waiting. It was time to finish the story. It was time for my hands to play their part.

It wasn't exactly pleasant. The yarn, as I said, was sticky and coarse. It left grease on my hands that soon picked up dust and dirt from the yarn, staining them. But I finished the task, and in the end, I found myself with a garment that... actually, I really quite like. One that I think will see a good bit of wear come autumn.

To the unknown spinner who made this yarn, I say: Thank you. Thank you for your labor, your time spent in our shared craft. I wish we could meet; I wish I could show you what your yarn has finally become, after so many years of waiting. I hope you are pleased with what we created together.

[writteninkat]

Special Forces | Bakugou x Villain Reader

synopsis: You've decided to turn over a new leaf and leak intel on the League of Villains, sending the government’s special forces straight to your door. One tiny hiccup—their potty-mouthed leader has his sights set on making you his next target.

w/c: 3.2k

warnings: bondage, oral (f&m receiving), pervert Bakugou, unprotected sex, overstimulation, slight exhibition, not proofread !!

a/n: you've imagined special forces bakugou before. don't u fuckin lie to me

navigation

"I smell a rat." Dabi narrows his eyes at you. "Shigaraki go take a fucking bath." You quickly deflect is assumption, making Twice and Spinner cackle out loud.

"How about you shut the fuck up." Shigaraki sneers at you, resuming whatever the fuck he's doing on the paper on his table.

You return your gaze at Dabi, glaring at him.

Okay—he definitely called you out. But no one at LoV has any reason to believe him. You've done your part in the group; terrorized innocent civilians with a grin so wide your cheeks hurt at the end of the day, tortured members of the police with a straight face, and followed Shigaraki's orders quietly with no questions. But they've been taking twice as much time these past few months.

You've been duplicating each and every document your stand-in leader has sent you, and have been sending them to the Heroes Association under an alias. Hawks has been trying to track you down, asking pressing questions about you to Dabi. But that man never talks—god bless his heart, and you're always hiding whenever you catch a glimpse of those red feathers.

All that damned association knows is that they've been getting pretty intel regarding this cursed group from a nameless and faceless informant. They should stop looking at a gift horse in the mouth, especially bird man. But his ego's hurt because someone is giving out better data than him.

"You smell like blood." Toga points out, smiling up at you with a feverish smile. The first time you met her, she was sweet and cute. That was quickly squished the moment you saw her fight. Now, she gives you the heebie jeebies.

"I'll go wash up." You mutter, unable to cut the eye contact until you had to physically force yourself to look away.

As you walk towards the stairs leading to the basement, you feel Dabi's piercing eyes on you. God, you hate it when that man stares at you like that. He never fails to send goosebumps scattering your skin. He somehow makes your blood boil with the absence of anger, and something tingles. You don't know what, but something definitely tingles.

You ignore that usual feeling when it comes to the dark-haired man and continue down the basement and into your room. Quickly turning the lock, you strip out of your boots, leggings and halter turtleneck, undoing your ponytail to quickly enter your bathroom. Doffing off your underwear, you turn the knob and let the cold water spray your body.

Fuck these villains. They bring nothing but havoc and destruction. If you're going to ruin people's lives, at least get rich too.

You look down, taking note of the pinkish liquid going down the drain. One thing about wearing black- it's difficult to spot blood. Especially when you're constantly staying at low-lit areas.

You sigh, "Guess Toga wasn't lying."

You massage your scalp with your favorite sweet-smelling shampoo, rinising it out before applying conditioner, clamping it up as you work through scrubbing your entire body.

If you were going to live with the rats, you made sure to at least clean yourself properly every time you shower. You were a villain, not a monster.

As you begin to finally rinse off everything, you feel the air growing uneasy. The con with your rooms being underground is that you can never hear what goes on upstairs and vice-versa. You hate not knowing what's going on, so you quickly but thoroughly rinse off your body, wringing your hair before wiping your arms off with a towel.

You manage to begin your shoulders when a loud bang freezes your body.

Fuck.

Your eyes are wide as you look around your small bathroom, looking for a way out. Of course you don't find anything. This is underground, for god's sake!

You drop your towel, activating your quirk. Red aura engulfs both your hands as you get into a fighting stance. Whoever was outside your bathroom door, they knew exactly how to be quiet. They were good at it.

One second passes.

Two.

The air is stuck in your throat and you feel like you might throw up.

Three.

I should just go out there and start killing the first person I see. My members be damned.

Four, five-

A loud explosion has your bathroom door flying off it's hinges and towards you. Quickly, you use your quirk to destroy it into splinters.

Your quirk- red ruins. Telekineses with a hint of disentigrating everything in your path within a hundred mile radius. Yes, it's incredibly powerful and violent. Problem? It's strength depends on your cardio. And you hate exercising.

"Whose pussy do these pretty panties belong to?" A deep voice rumbles through the cloud of smoke and dust. The scent of burnt sugar fills your nostrils before the sense of dread washes over you like a bucket of cold water.

There's only one person in the Heroes Association who is widely known for such a scent.

"These smell incredibly sweet." In front of you, a man five feet and eight inches tall stands. On his head is a mask that covers almost everything but his vermilion eyes. His hand is raised to where his mouth and nose are located, and it has something pink and lacey crumpled in it.

"Panties..." You breathe out, watching Hero Dynamight take a deep breath in, smelling your panties without shame.

He has on a fitting shit with a bulky vest, cargo pants and boots. Any other time, you'd find it incredibly hot. Especially with the way the sleeves of his shirt struggle to enclose his biceps- biceps so big they look like they take up your entire thigh. Maybe even more? [Any other time], not now, though. His palm is glowing orange and one mistake will have you burnt to crisps.

"They are. Seem familiar?" He asks, dangling the small piece of fabric in the space between the two of you. Ypur cheeks flush at the obscenity unfolding infront of you.

"Yeah, they're mine. Give 'em back." You demand, holding your hand out as he simply eyes it.

"C'mere 'nd take 'em then." He teases, hanging the strap of your underwear on his pointer finger. You frown, taking a step before stopping yourself. You use your quirk to flick it from his fingers. Right before the lace makes contact with your palm, a white steel-wire encircles itself around your wrists, pulling you forward, making you wat dirt.

"What the fuck!" You exclaim, trying to get on your hands and knees but Dynamight pushes you down by your head with his booted foot. With your head turned to the side, you strain your eyes to the corners, watching him catch the thin scrap of fabric easily.

You begin manifesting your quirk once again, but come to a dead end when nothing happens. "What the-?"

"Technology is amazing these days, isn't it?" He chuckles, playing with the lace between his gloved fingers. "It's managed to copy Aizawa's quirk. With this, those smartasses integrated the power into this scarf."

He takes his foot off of you, replacing it with his hand instead. "Whatever target this scarf is locked to, their quirks vanish like that."

You helplessly try to push him off of you, but with little to no strength training, you're a puddle of defenseless goo underneath him.

His eyes lock into yours before drifting down your naked back, piercing onto a part you know very well. Right below the middle of your back, the words "Favorite crime" is tattooed in a type writer font. It's quite small, four inches long, inked when you were seventeen after deciding maybe the good citizen life wasn't for you when the government took both your parents and labelling their quirks as something 'hazardous' to the public. They helped you escape but that left you with nothing.

It's cringey and cheesy, but you were only seventeen.

Five years later, and you don't regret it.

"Maybe you will be." Dynamight mutters, smirking as he grabs you by your hair, looking deep into your eyes. "Pretty." He grunts before flipping you around, pulling you to your feet as he wraps the scarf around your wrists.

"Let go of me!" You demand, the feeling of being pulled up by your wrists forces you to stand on your tippy toes. Barely.

Dynamight has you hanging by your wrists onto the shower curtain rod, the scarf disabling your quirk. You take note of your naked state, your cheeks flaring at how exposed you are for him.

The hero's eyes glances you from your hands to your toes, agonizingly slow, before making it back up your cunt.

"Which part of our interaction did you like?" He takes a step forward, unjustly stealing the last bit of air between the both of you. Caramel and smoke fill your senses, making you light-headed.

"Was it me stepping on you? The simple fact of being held down? Or being tied up? Huh?" He stands toe to toe in front of you, having to crane his neck down at your short stature. He slips his gloves off, showing off clean fingers.

"What's got you this wet, baby?" With that, his fingers press against your cunt, moving across and between your folds.

Your back arches at the lewd feeling, a moan threatening to escape as he finds the ball of pleasure in your center, making you bite down on your lip.

"F-fuck! Fuck!" You whine, your thighs squeezing together, wanting to stop his hand from moving but [needing] to keep it there.

Despite being villains, the group you joined in engage in everything [but] sex. For months, you've been teetering on the edge, unable to find the time or energy to get off.

Now, however...

"Such a soft cunt." Dynamight whispers, pushing a digit inside. His thick fingers surprised you, causing a loud mewl to slip from your lips. Without warning, the hero shoves your panties inside your mouth. "I've got my squad upstairs, can't have them hearing that pretty voice of yours."

His digit continues pumping inside you as his thumb traces circles on your clit, your body shaking in pleasure. "You should see how you look right now, pretty girl." Dynamight grumbles, pressing his forehead against yours. "Gonna cum for me, pretty? Gonna cum for your daddy?"

Your eyes roll back and nod your head as your legs begin to give out from under you. Just as you're about to climax, he drops to his knees, pulling his finger out. He hooks his thumb under his mask, swiftly taking it off, revealing his blond locks and hellishly beautiful features.

You look down at him, just now understanding the term "pretty like the devil".

He replaces his finger with his tongue, burying his face into your cunt as he sucks. He lifts you up by the backs of your thighs, sliding them over his shoulders, tongue-fucking you until you're seeing stars, your thighs shake as his abuse on your clit fail to falter.

"'S even sweeter from the core." He grumbles into your cunt, lapping up your juices until your muffled whines tick him off.

He pushes your legs off of him as he glares at you, standing up to his full height once again. "You just don't know how to shut up, huh?" He tilts his head to the side, undoing the scarf bounding your wrists in one swift tug. You fall heavily on your knees, unable to collect yourself when he tugs on your hair, forcing you to look up. He pulls the panties from your mouth, pocketing them.

You meet his fiery gaze, but your eyes quickly drop at the sight of him undoing his belt with one hand. The scene has your pussy pulsing once more.

I may be a slut.

He makes quick work of his belt and button, but he stops there. He bends over, tying your wrists together behind you. "Take me out." He orders, his grip on your hair tighter than before.

"I- What?" You ask, confusion distinct in your voice. He's bounded your hands behind you, how the hell does he expect you to work?

"With your mouth." He answers, as if reading your mind.

Your cheeks heat in embarassment but you quickly gather yourself once more. Raising yourself up a bit, you bite down on his zipper, pulling it down. Underneath it, you find the outline of his cock under his boxer briefs, hard, big, waiting. At the tip, you find a damp spot.

Precum?

You look up at him in question and he looks down at you with a brow raised. "Well? Keep going." He urges you by pulling you towards him, your face pressing against his cock.

You bite down on the garter of his briefs, pulling it down the best you can. You catch sight of a patch of blond hair and before you know it, you've pulled down enough for his cock to spring out, hitting you on the cheek.

Dynamight smiles maliciously, giving your head a soft tug. "Open." He whispers.

You follow his demands, parting your lips.

"Wider."

You follow once again.

"Even wider, pretty. You're gonna have to do more than that if you want me to fit."

You glare at him. Cocky motherfucker.

Instead of doing as he says, you stick your tongue out, licking him up from base to tip. Dynamight lets out a deep grumble from his chest, but you don't stop as you toy at his tip, tasting the salty precum, smearing it around your lips.

"Stop bein' a tease and wrap those pretty lips around me, darlin'."

You bite down on your lip before opening once more, taking him as best as you can without your jaw falling off. Dynamight's breaths are erratic and inconsistent as you hallow your cheeks, sucking him as hard as you can.

"Fuck!" He breathes out, his hips fitful as you take him deeper, the corners of your eyes stinging with tears at the feeling of his head touching the back of your throat.

You pull away quickly, creating a string of saliva connecting his cock with your lips as you look up at him. "C'mon pretty girl, I know you can do better than that."

You look back at his cock to see only half of it wet with saliva. Your heart poinds in your chest at your new goal—take everything Hero Dynamight has without throwing up.

Fucking gag reflex...

With new incitement, you find your lips wrapped around his cock once more, only this time, you try to push yourself down, closer to his base this time.

You swirl your tongue around him, thinking about anything else but his tip slipping down your throat an inch every moment.

His hot, must scent.

His big fingers gripping on your hair.

His cock inside your throat-

And with that, you trigger your gag reflex, the movement of your throat tightening around him has the hero moaning loudly. He pulls his hips back for a moment and you begin to thank multiple higher beings for such sweet air, but the prayer dies quickly when the blond pushes himself back in.

"Gods, this mouth was made for fucking." He cries out, looking down at you. He continues thrusting with reckless abandon, the muscles in your throat constantly tight.

God, if you exist, please don't let me get a sore throat tomorrow.

His hips snap with hasty thrusts, his moans bouncing off the four walls of your bathroom, and his fingers dig even deeper through your hair, on your scalp.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" He cries, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as tears run down your cheeks, snot trickling down your lip.

With one last thrust, he buries himself down your throat to the hilt, your nose pressing against his blond patch as he comes down your throat, his chest rising and falling rapidly, jaw clenched, and eyes brimming with desire.

When he finally pulls out, you fall on your side, coughing and gasping for the dear air you've craved so badly. Your thighs clench together as you think about what you believe is to be the single most hottest thing you've ever done.

"You like that, you little slut?" The hero taunts, pulling you and dragging you through the floor by your ankle. He pushes you on your back, hands on both sides of your hips as he taps his dick on your sensitive cunt.

"Hold on a minute-"

Without wasting another moment, he pushes inside you, your walls stretching for him in welcome. His size has the air inside your lungs locked in, your lips part and you have the strongest urger to scream. But you can't.

He's just so...

"Big!" You manage whine out, making Dynamight cackle. "Fuck yeah, that's right pretty." Unlike the throat fucking, his thrusts this time are slow and languid. As if he has all the time in the world.

"You take my dick so good, pretty girl." He praises, your walls fluttering around him. You can feel every detail. Every vein, every curve, every pulse.

Slowly, you begin to notice his thrusts progress faster and faster until loud slaps fill the bathroom. Your tits bounce with every drive, making the hero slap them once, twice- before grabbing onto them forcefully, tugging and playing with your nipples.

Your breathy whines begin to join his whispered cursing, your eyes fluttering shut as you feel the impending feeling of an orgasm right at your fingers.

"Open your eyes for me baby." Dynamight whispers, "We have company."

Your eyes instantly open, the hero pulling your hips up as he fucks you, leaving your head on the floor. His eyes are trained infront of him, a cocky smirk gracing his lips. You follow his line of vision and your eyes fall upon an upside down sight of Red Riot. His eyes are wide, jaw slack, and a tent evident in his pants.

Immediately, your orgasm takes you, waves upon waves almost drowning you. The feeling of your walls clamping down on him has Dynamight chasing after his own high. Just when he reaches it, your pleasure ceases. He grits his teeth, slapping your overstimulated clit, forcing another orgasm out of you as spills inside your cunt. You scream and shake through this one, tears streaming down your face as you thrash away from the hero.

You're out of breath, sweaty, sticky with cum and your body feels like it's a heartbeat away from collapsing.

"Not gonna lie, that shit was hot but..." You hear red riot chuckle and through your blury vision, you see his red boots infront of you. He's crouching over you, the movement on your wrists a tell tale sign of the scarf being hndone. "Will she be okay?"

"My pretty girl is a strong one."

My pretty girl...?

"Don't tell anyone else about her." Dynamight orders.

"What are you-"

"I'll take her to my place, so keep your mouth shut and I might share her with you." You can [hear] that bitchass smirk in his tone.

A moment passes.

"Alright." Red Riot finally concedes, "What are you gonna do with her?"

You feel rough hands pull you up until strong arms engulf you.

Who's carrying me? Red Riot?

Sweet caramel fills your senses.

Dynamight?

"Whatever the fuck I want." The blond spits and by this time, your eyelids have fluttered shut.

"Be careful with her, Bakugou." Red Riot hastily adds.

"Bakugou..." You whisper before nothing.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Prison-tech is a scam - and a harbinger of your future

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/02/14/minnesota-nice/#shitty-technology-adoption-curve

Here's how the shitty technology adoption curve works: when you want to roll out a new, abusive technology, look for a group of vulnerable people whose complaints are roundly ignored and subject them to your bad idea. Sand the rough edges off on their bodies and lives. Normalize the technological abuse you seek to inflict.

Next: work your way up the privilege gradient. Maybe you start with prisoners, then work your way up to asylum seekers, parolees and mental patients. Then try it on kids and gig workers. Now, college students and blue collar workers. Climb that curve, bit by bit, until you've reached its apex and everyone is living with your shitty technology:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/02/24/gwb-rumsfeld-monsters/#bossware

Prisoners, asylum seekers, drug addicts and other marginalized people are the involuntary early adopters of every form of disciplinary technology. They are the leading indicators of the ways that technology will be ruining your life in the future. They are the harbingers of all our technological doom.

Which brings me to Minnesota.

Minnesota is one of the first states make prison phone-calls free. This is a big deal, because prison phone-calls are a big business. Prisoners are literally a captive audience, and the telecommunications sector is populated by sociopaths, bred and trained to spot and exploit abusive monopoly opportunities. As states across America locked up more and more people for longer and longer terms, the cost of operating prisons skyrocketed, even as states slashed taxes on the rich and turned a blind eye to tax evasion.

This presented telco predators with an unbeatable opportunity: they approached state prison operators and offered them a bargain: "Let us take over the telephone service to your carceral facility and we will levy eye-watering per-minute charges on the most desperate people in the world. Their families – struggling with one breadwinner behind bars – will find the money to pay this ransom, and we'll split the profits with you, the cash-strapped, incarceration-happy state government."

This was the opening salvo, and it turned into a fantastic little money-spinner. Prison telco companies and state prison operators were the public-private partnership from hell. Prison-tech companies openly funneled money to state coffers in the form of kickbacks, even as they secretly bribed prison officials to let them gouge their inmates and inmates' families:

https://www.motherjones.com/politics/2019/02/mississippi-corrections-corruption-bribery-private-prison-hustle/

As digital technology got cheaper and prison-tech companies got greedier, the low end of the shitty tech adoption curve got a lot more crowded. Prison-tech companies started handing out "free" cheap Android tablets to prisoners, laying the groundwork for the next phase of the scam. Once prisoners had tablets, prisons could get rid of phones altogether and charge prisoners – and their families – even higher rates to place calls right to the prisoner's cell.

Then, prisons could end in-person visits and replace them with sub-skype, postage-stamp-sized videoconferencing, at rates even higher than the voice-call rates. Combine that with a ban on mailing letters to and from prisoners – replaced with a service that charged even higher rates to scan mail sent to prisoners, and then charged prisoners to download the scans – and prison-tech companies could claim to be at the vanguard of prison safety, ending the smuggling of dope-impregnated letters and other contraband into the prison system.

Prison-tech invented some wild shit, like the "digital stamp," a mainstay of industry giant Jpay, which requires prisoners to pay for "stamps" to send or receive a "page" of email. If you're keeping score, you've realized that this is a system where prisoners and their families have to pay for calls, "in-person" visits, handwritten letters, and email.

It goes on: prisons shuttered their libraries and replaced them with ebook stores that charged 2-4 times the prices you'd pay for books on the outside. Prisoners were sold digital music at 200-300% markups relative to, say, iTunes.

Remember, these are prisoners: locked up for years or decades, decades during which their families scraped by with a breadwinner behind bars. Prisoners can earn money, sure – as much as $0.89/hour, doing forced labor for companies that contract with prisons for their workforce:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2017/04/10/wages/

Of course, there's the odd chance for prisoners to make really big bucks – $2-5/day. All they have to do is "volunteer" to fight raging wildfires:

https://www.hcn.org/articles/climate-desk-wildfire-california-incarcerated-firefighters-face-dangerous-work-low-pay-and-covid19/

So those $3 digital music tracks are being bought by people earning as little as $0.10/hour. Which makes it especially galling when prisons change prison-tech suppliers, whereupon all that digital music is deleted, wiping prisoners' media collection out – forever (literally, for prisoners serving life terms):

https://www.eff.org/deeplinks/2018/08/captive-audience-how-floridas-prisons-and-drm-made-113m-worth-prisoners-music

Let's recap: America goes on a prison rampage, locking up ever-larger numbers of people for ever-longer sentences. Once inside, prisoners had their access to friends and family rationed, along with access to books, music, education and communities outside. This is very bad for prisoners – strong ties to people outside is closely tied to successful reentry – but it's great for state budgets, and for wardens, thanks to kickbacks:

https://www.prisonpolicy.org/blog/2021/12/21/family_contact/

Back to Minnesota: when Minnesota became the fourth state in the USA where the state, not prisoners, would pay for prison calls, it seemed like they were finally breaking the vicious cycle in which every dollar ripped off of prisoners' family paid 40 cents to the state treasury:

https://www.kaaltv.com/news/no-cost-phone-calls-for-those-incarcerated-in-minnesota/

But – as Katya Schwenk writes for The Lever – what happened next is "a case study in how prison communication companies and their private equity owners have managed to preserve their symbiotic relationship with state corrections agencies despite reforms — at the major expense of incarcerated people and their families":

https://www.levernews.com/wall-streets-new-prison-scam/

Immediately after the state ended the ransoming of prisoners' phone calls, the private-equity backed prison-tech companies that had dug their mouth-parts into the state's prison jacked up the price of all their other digital services. For example, the price of a digital song in a Minnesota prison just jumped from $1.99 to $2.36 (for prisoners earning as little as $0.25/hour).

As Paul Wright from the Human Rights Defense Center told Schwenk, "The ideal world for the private equity owners of these companies is every prisoner has one of their tablets, and every one of those tablets is hooked up to the bank account of someone outside of prison that they can just drain."

The state's new prison-tech supplier promises to double the amount of kickbacks it pays the state each year, thanks to an aggressive expansion into games, money transfers, and other "services." The perverse incentive isn't hard to spot: the more these prison-tech companies charge, the more kickbacks they pay to the prisons.

The primary prison-tech company for Minnesota's prisons is Viapath (nee Global Tel Link), which pioneered price-gouging on in-prison phone calls. Viapath has spent the past two decades being bought and sold by different private equity firms: Goldman Sachs, Veritas Capital, and now the $46b/year American Securities.

Viapath competes with another private equity-backed prison-tech giant: Aventiv (Securus, Jpay), owned by Platinum Equity. Together, Viapath and Aventiv control 90% of the prison-tech market. These companies have a rap-sheet as long as your arm: bribing wardens, stealing from prisoners and their families, and recording prisoner-attorney calls. But these are the kinds of crimes the state punishes with fines and settlements – not by terminating its contracts with these predators.

These companies continue to flout the law. Minnesota's new free-calls system bans prison-tech companies from paying kickbacks to prisons and prison-officials for telcoms services, so the prison-tech companies have rebranded ebooks, music, and money-transfers as non-communications products, and the kickbacks are bigger than ever.

This is the bottom end of the shitty technology adoption curve. Long before Ubisoft started deleting games that you'd bought a "perpetual license" for, prisoners were having their media ganked by an uncaring corporation that knew it was untouchable:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VIqyvquTEVU

Revoking your media, charging by the byte for messaging, confiscating things in the name of security and then selling them back to you – these are all tactics that were developed in the prison system, refined, normalized, and then worked up the privilege gradient. Prisoners are living in your technology future. It's just not evenly distributed – yet.

As it happens, prison-tech is at the heart of my next novel, The Bezzle, which comes out on Feb 20. This is a followup to last year's bestselling Red Team Blues, which introduced the world to Marty Hench, a two-fisted, hard-bitten, high-tech forensic accountant who's spent 40 years busting Silicon Valley finance scams:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

In The Bezzle, we travel with Marty back to the mid 2000s (Hench is a kind of tech-scam Zelig and every book is a standalone tale of high-tech ripoffs from a different time and place). Marty's trying to help his old pal Scott Warms, a once-high-flying founder who's fallen prey to California's three-strikes law and is now facing decades in a state pen. As bad as things are, they get worse when the prison starts handing out "free" tablet and closing down the visitation room, the library, and the payphones.

This is an entry to the thing I love most about the Hench novels: the opportunity to turn all this dry, financial skullduggery into high-intensity, high-stakes technothriller plot. For me, Marty Hench is a tool for flensing the scam economy of all its layers of respectability bullshit and exposing the rot at the core.

It's not a coincidence that I've got a book coming out in a week that's about something that's in the news right now. I didn't "predict" this current turn – I observed it. The world comes at you fast and technology news flutters past before you can register it. Luckily, I have a method for capturing this stuff as it happens:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/05/09/the-memex-method/

Writing about tech issues that are long-simmering but still in the periphery is a technique I call "predicting the present." It's the technique I used when I wrote Little Brother, about out-of-control state surveillance of the internet. When Snowden revealed the extent of NSA spying in 2013, people acted as though I'd "predicted" the Snowden revelations:

https://www.wired.com/story/his-writing-radicalized-young-hackers-now-he-wants-to-redeem-them/

But Little Brother and Snowden's own heroic decision have a common origin: the brave whistleblower Mark Klein, who walked into EFF's offices in 2006 and revealed that he'd been ordered by his boss at AT&T to install a beam-splitter into the main fiber trunk so that the NSA could illegally wiretap the entire internet:

https://www.eff.org/document/public-unredacted-klein-declaration

Mark Klein inspired me to write Little Brother – but despite national press attention, the Klein revelations didn't put a stop to NSA spying. The NSA was still conducting its lawless surveillance campaign in 2013, when Snowden, disgusted with NSA leadership for lying to Congress under oath, decided to blow the whistle again:

https://apnews.com/article/business-33a88feb083ea35515de3c73e3d854ad

The assumption that let the NSA get away with mass surveillance was that it would only be weaponized against the people at the bottom of the shitty technology adoption curve: brown people, mostly in other countries. The Snowden revelations made it clear that these were just the beginning, and sure enough, more than a decade later, we have data-brokers sucking up billions in cop kickbacks to enable warrantless surveillance, while virtually following people to abortion clinics, churches, and protests. Mass surveillance is chugging its way up the shitty tech adoption curve with no sign of stopping.

Like Little Brother, The Bezzle is intended as a kind of virtual flythrough of what life is like further down on that curve – a way for readers who have too much agency to be in the crosshairs of a company like Viapath or Avently right now to wake up before that kind of technology comes for them, and to inspire them to take up the cause of the people further down the curve who are mired in it.

The Bezzle is an intense book, but it's also a very fun story – just like Little Brother. It's a book that lays bare the internal technical workings of so many scams, from multi-level marketing to real-estate investment trusts, from music royalty theft to prison-tech, in the course of an ice-cold revenge plot that keeps twisting to the very last page.

It'll drop in six days. I hope you'll check it out:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250865878/thebezzle

[tomurawr44]

TOMURA SHIGARAKI HEADCANONS! (1/3)

call me cringe but i live in my own world, okay? okay.

WARNING: spoilers, sex, OOC tomura

General Hcs, (growing up, in general and etc,)

he stinks, like i know i like to get ushy gushy talking about him but i know this man stinks atleast a little, like your telling me his room isn't stinky too? c'mon guys. look me in the eye and say he smells like red roses right now, and prove to me he doesn't have G-Fuel, Monster and redbull or some shit or even ramune in those trashbags laying around his room!

he can't swim for the life of him, i noticed in bnha smash toga and the others mostly went swimming, i think dabi did too but eh— i know for a fact AFO didn't take him to any swim lessons or to beach trips so in my head he can barely doggy paddle.

i saw someone say this but i feel like he does enjoy rain and showers because water is one of the few things he quite literally can't destroy, which is why when he runs his fingers over his scarred body, he finally feels some sort of peace even if it's just by a little.

i feel like he goes on itch or steam to look for shit games cause they make him smile a little because of how bad or stupid they are, him and spinner have done this before :3

the iconic red shoes he wears is a gift from Kurogiri, he'll never admit it but he really likes them and holds them close, especially after Kurogiri was captured and sent to tartarus, when the MLA/PLA got him a new pair it didn't feel the same.

when he was a kid he constantly asked to see AFO, especially after All Might pummeled him, doing some basic math he was around 12-13 when it happened so poor Tomura, imagine hearing that your master's face was blown in half :< (i could not care less about AFO)

the music he likes is mostly game OSTs, or some breakcore stuff, i feel like he'd like it :3

Kurogiri was mostly the one that tutored him in basic education, and speaking of, he sees Kurogiri as more of a butler than a fatherfigure (yes i know we all feel it too), he more or so sees AFO filling that role.

he's never heard AFO or Kurogiri swear, EVER. and he's a rlly big brat, one time on his gamer diet he got sick so badly he was bed ridden with like 3 diseases that could've been avoided if he just ate what Kurogiri cooked him and not chips or whatever.

—Ake 2024

[codenamesazanka]

Need Spinner to rip Deku a new one

[Warning for some suicidal ideation]

•

At first, Izuku thought Iguchi Shuuichi didn’t hear him. Iguchi did not move. He was still looking away from Izuku. He said nothing, staying quiet for so long that Izuku thought maybe he should leave, and give Iguchi time to process and accept the news. Whatever was going through Iguchi’s head right now.

"...I killed a total of eight people..."

It was so soft and low it took Izuku a second to realize it was speech, that it was even a sound.

“Pardon?” Izuku asked.

“I killed eight people.”

Izuku stared at Iguchi in front of him. It sent a jolt through him, to remember that this man was a criminal, a murderer. He was dull all over and looked like he could barely sit up by his own strength, but Iguchi Shuuichi was a Villain, and he was speaking about the deaths of eight people with zero emotion. "W-What? Are you—this is a confession—"

If Iguchi was confessing, Izuku should go get Detective Tsukauchi, or—

"I plotted with the Front to destroy cities.” Iguchi said. Still toneless. Still looking away. “I watched Gigantomachia crush everything in his path. I led a riot against a hospital. I trampled over a dozen doctors and nurses—"

Izuku blinked. "You didn't actually do that. No one actually got hurt, luckily—"

"I did.” Iguchi said. “I'm a Villain, and I killed countless people.” It was then that he finally turned to Izuku. A blank, unseeing stare that shot right through Izuku. Iguchi’s eyes were pink, but the look in them was so empty that it was like the color had leached out, replaced with a glassy hollow-pink gray.

Izuku flinched, but took a deep breath. “...You did. So it’s good you’re confessing. And now… you can… repent—”

“So kill me."

"What?"

"Kill me,” Iguchi repeated.

Izuku grimaced. “I’m not going to do that.”

“Kill me.”

“No,” Izuku said firmly, and stood up. “I’m going to go get Detective—”

He saw the moment when Iguchi’s eyes bursted with a manic light, as if everything came back, and with it, finally, all the emotions that Izuku had expected when he first came to tell Iguchi his leader’s last words. Iguchi exploded.

“Just kill me!” Iguchi roared, struggling against his restraints, so hard it shook the hospital bed. “I'll–I’ll kill you, if you don't stop me right now! Kill me!"

Izuku’s fist clenched automatically at the threat, the muscle memory of when he had One For All. But One For All was gone, and Iguchi was bound up tight. "I'm not going to do that! I don't kill—"

"You killed him!”

The scream made Izuku reel back.

“You killed Shigaraki!” Iguchi suddenly jerked away again, eyes squeezing shut. He curled in on himself, though he was still yelling. “You killed him, so kill me too!”

“I didn’t—!” Shiga–Shimura Tenko’s body crumbled to dust due to the damage it had taken. Everyone agreed that regeneration had failed at some point, and Shimura was already falling apart. The collapse was inevitable.

“You killed him!” Iguchi sounded hoarse now, as if the yell just before had damaged his throat. “He died. He died in front of you and you let him die. So—” The voice broke completely. “So why can’t you let me die too? Let me die with him."

Ragged breathing filled the room. Izuku let it go on for a count of ten, allowing Iguchi to calm down, allowing himself to find the words. “...That’s not how it works. Shimura Tenko died, but you’re still—”

“Shut. Up.” Iguchi curled in on himself further. “Just kill me and let me die. I don’t care. Just let me… Just let me go see him.”

“You can’t follow him,” Izuku said. In the back of his mind, he faintly thought that Shigaraki would’ve been pleased to see that his League was still loyal to him. “Iguchi Shuuichi, your leader is dead, but you can’t follow him. You have to—”

Iguchi made a sharp, jagged sound, the imitation of a laugh. “I have to. Are you really just some kid, that you don’t get it? I love him.”

Izuku froze.

“...I loved him,” Iguchi said. He breathed out the words. “Shigaraki Tomura. My heart was empty until I met him. He was— I wanted—” Iguchi trailed off. “...I loved him."

The horizon that Spinner was looking forward to, Shigaraki Tomura had said, grinning. It had felt so random, him mentioning one of the League in the middle of battle, as he was destroying Mt. Fuji. If Spinner is alive, tell him—

Were you… acknowledging his feelings? Izuku wondered, tentatively, to those memories of Shigaraki. Did you know? Your last words… did you do that, just for him?

Iguchi was weeping now, tears leaking out of his still shut eyes, trailing down his face and falling onto the hospital sheets. One wet dot, two dots, three, merging into a misshapen, growing stain.

Iguchi was unforgivable. Shigaraki was unforgivable. They had done unforgivable things. But still Izuku had said to Shigaraki, I saw you crying, and he knew he needed to help. How could he not? Someone was in pain, and saving them was obvious.

But now your friend is crying. The immediate, most obvious way to help Iguchi right now, Izuku couldn’t help but think was… if you were here…

And there was a déjà vu too—Gentle and La Brava…

Izuku’s stomach twisted when he realized there was nothing he did for La Brava, when she was crying, knocking her small fists into him. It was Gentle who shoved him off and held her. Gentle was the one to dry her tears.

No one else could’ve done it.

"There's no point in me living,” Iguchi whispered. “My family has disowned me by now. The League is gone. Shi... Shigaraki is gone. There's nothing left. So just let me die."

“I… don’t think he… would’ve wanted you to die,” Izuku carefully offered. “If you were fri— more than friends, he would’ve wanted you to live. Right?”

Iguchi made that sharp barking laugh again. “I'm going to jail for the rest of my life. And there is no life I want, not without—” Iguchi broke off.

“It’s not the end of the world,” Izuku tried to say. “You have to live, and things will change—”

“The future has no place for me in it,” Iguchi said. Tears dripped off the tip of his mouth. “I never had one, anyway. After all this, I’m…”

A sob. “If we didn't let him go into surgery… I wanted him to stay, but he was so excited… And I knew he wasn’t himself anymore, I knew All For One was lying to me, I knew all that! But I didn’t do anything. I didn’t know what to do. I did nothing, and now he’s gone. I should’ve… I don’t know, I don’t know, but I should’ve done something.”

Izuku bit his lips. This was, at least, something they had in common. “...It was the same for me too. I saw All For One and him being… stuck together. I couldn’t ignore that, so I wanted to help him too. I wanted to save that cry—save him, but…” He sat back down. “Maybe… if we had worked together… If you came to us earlier…”

“...save him?” Iguchi rasped.

Izuku nodded. “I really did. I wanted to save him.”

Iguchi slowly raised his head. “You killed him. You fought him to death. Heroes wanted him dead. Hawks killed Twice and everyone just accepted it. You… You never said anything. What do you mean, ‘if you came to us earlier…’

That hollow look in Iguchi’s eyes was back.

“You never said a single word about saving him.”

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 428: Night of the Kouhai

Previously on BnHA: Well at least Spinner is sort of kind of doing okay??

Today on BnHA: I see the check that I sent to Horikoshi finally cleared.

okay first things first, you all know how it is right. I’ve never made a secret of my Kacchan bias on this blog. I promise you I did actually write a recap to 426 and 427 as well, but both of those chapters went HEAVY on the themes and drama and philosophical shit, and my reactions were kind of all over the place, and the Todoroki one in particular was like a million words wrong and it needs a shit ton of editing which I don’t know when I’ll have the spoons for

on the other hand however, a chapter like this which features class 2A cuteness and an absolutely unreasonable amount of Kacchan character development fanservice to hyperfixate on, takes absolutely no spoons at all and in fact actively recharges some of my spoons, so yeah. here we are

anyway so when we last left off Kacchan and Shouto were in terrible danger from a threat more terrifying than any they’ve ever encountered before. so I already knew this chapter was going to be great

“IIDA IS BIG AND STRONG AND AUTHORITATIVE, LET’S HIDE BEHIND HIM, HE WILL PROTECT US” everyone, I’m delighted to announce that the BnHA manga ending arc, despite having its ups and downs until this point, has officially been saved thanks to this panel right here. pack it up folks. this was officially a sweeping success. this panel brought Tomura back to life and teleported Touya’s mind back into his childhood self from roughly ten years ago time travel fix-it style. Horikoshi you beautiful bastard

Shouto trying to explain that he can handle them one on one but just not ALL TOGETHER IN THIS TERRIFYING SWARM LIKE THIS... buddy you don’t have to explain yourself sob. or is he trying to negotiate with them??

meanwhile Kacchan skips the negotiations entirely because he’s already assessed the situation and knows that the best way to handle this is to appeal to Iida Tenya’s boundless love of regulation and social order

y’all it’s killing me that this boy can handle being LITERALLY MURDERED by the greatest evil the world has ever known. but a group of admiring fifteen year old kouhais? no sir. that’s where he taps out

“but I thought Bakugou liked attention” yes well, you see, Shinsou, it’s kinda a “monkey’s paw curls” sort of thing

Kaminari with the BLACK SPEECH BUBBLE lmfao. FRIENDSHIP WITH KACCHAN HAS BEEN CANCELLED. NOW MIDORIYA IS MY BEST FRIEND

“well you see up until recently the ladies all thought Kacchan was a feral troll so they avoided him at all costs” wow Deku this man literally died for you and you just throw him under the bus with zero hesitation just like that

“SOURCE: ME, HIS CHILDHOOD FRIEND” just adding in his credentials in that little footnote there lest anyone question his authority on the subject

wait so is Shinsou surprised that girls used to not like Kacchan? or is he surprised that Kacchan and Deku were childhood friends? I can see how the latter might be surprising (oh Shinsou, sometimes I forget that you effectively just got here. we have so much to catch you up on. you will not BELIEVE how badly the two of these kids just want to hold hands all the time), but ngl, I’m rooting for the former just for the implications. “you’re seriously telling me a certified ten like him never had any girls interested in him?”

Horikoshi, hear me out, I know there are only two chapters left after this, and they’ve both already been written. but if you wanted to rewrite one of them at the last minute in order to add about a dozen more pages solely dedicated to Shinsou interrogating the rest of class 2A about Kacchan’s love life, out of what he insists is just innocent curiosity with no ulterior motives. well, I would not complain about that

anyway so yes Shinsou he is still single, for now. though I don’t really think it’s the girls you need to be worried about

meanwhile Mineta is all, “I just wanted to let all of you know MY opinion, which is that Bakugou isn’t morally upstanding enough for my delicate sensibilities.” yes you heard that right. Mineta of all people is weighing in on which personalities are deserving of being popular. that’s some audacity right there

A WILD DEKU FANBOY APPEARS???!

“IT GAVE ME COURAGE” omg yesssssss. jotting this down for essay material at some future point in time!! because THIS. this right here is the true “what it means to be a hero” in my opinion. a hero is someone who brings reassurance, yes. someone who makes people feel safe. but I think a hero should also be someone who makes people feel brave. someone who inspires other people to be heroic in turn. so yes, this, all of this, inject it into my veins. wtg Deku

having an official fanboy apparently broke Deku’s brain. hang in there bud. I know you’ve still got villain angst to work through, but try to enjoy this. you’re allowed to have nice things

IS MINETA STRANGLING KACCHAN BY HIS FUCKING TIE OMFG. THAT’S WHY HE NEVER USED TO WEAR THEM. also you’ve worn my patience down all the way now Mineta. get the fuck out of my blog

also Kacchan successfully beat the shit out of him with his ONE GOOD ARM so take that Mineta

also shoutout to this KiriBaku moment right here which feels like the first time we’ve had the two of them together in ages. good stuff

I’m LOVING this panel of Ochako staring at Deku all indecipherably, but ngl it’s also giving me just the slightest bit of anxiety, because does this mean we’re finally gonna get answers on what ultimately happened to Toga. it better not be sad. please don’t ruin my happy chapter with depressing things Horikoshi

“tell them no” OH MY GOD AIZAWA’S TURNING DOWN ALL THE INTERVIEW REQUESTS FOR HIS KIDS SO THEY CAN JUST BE KIDS AGAIN FOR A LITTLE WHILE nooooo what is this. “yeah but I’m prioritizing the kids who aren’t up for dishing to the media about all of their horrific trauma.” omfg. it’s been too long since my last Dadzawa feels. I wasn’t ready after all this time

you guys Izuku finally got a new hero costume that’s not in tatters after all this time. all it took was his old costume getting literally torn to shreds. and now he’s back to looking twelve years old again lol

JEANIST AND FATGUM REUNION?!?! RETURN OF KACCHAN’S THIRD DAD, AND A SECOND WACKY UNCLE TO BACK UP GOOD OLD MIC? GOD BLESS

FAT HIRED TAMAKI AS A SIDEKICK D’AWWWW

now they’re putting the kids to work. glorified janitorial duty. Deku you better not be using up any more of your embers on this sob

this motherfucker did not just liken my baby boy Kacchan to “distressed denim” omg. we have less than three chapters left and we’re spending our hard-earned time on this and I TRULY WOULD NOT CHANGE A SINGLE THING

“Kacchan on light duty” PROTECT HIM!!! don’t think I don’t see you over there too in the background, Aizawa. he’s surrounded by dads. they’re not letting him out of their sight again until he’s thirty

meanwhile he’s out here quietly sorting through trash with his one good hand without complaint and without even the barest hint of a gremlin face. with his half-and-half costume so we can’t see how fucked up his arm is. AND NO MORE MASK. we burned the mask. my thank you letters are in the mail, Horikoshi. and you too TomurAFO, this was your actual greatest contribution to society

ANOTHER DAD?!?!?!

dfjsdlfksldkfjl

“don’t worry, I’m gradually recovering” fsdfkslfkj r.i.p. my ability to take this man seriously ever again. do you think his voice is like the normal sexy Edgeshot ASMR voice except all high-pitched like a squirrel in a Disney princess movie. it is, isn’t it

he can make hands now. buddy you’re amazing. mvp of the entire fucking manga. my son literally owes you his life. please let me see you sitting Jeanist’s shoulder like a parrot before this wonderful glorious chapter ends

Kacchan’s little cheek scar is somehow both badass and adorable at the same time. I can’t stress how fucking much this chapter is just surrounding me with “protect him at all costs” feelings.

MORE SOFT KACCHAN FEELS ON THE NEXT PAGE BECAUSE HORIKOSHI WROTE THIS CHAPTER SPECIFICALLY FOR ME, THANK YOU SO MUCH

“are you... [ever] gonna go back to normal?” because if not he’s gonna cry himself to sleep every night for the rest of his life!! no big!! YOU WOULDN’T DO THAT TO HIM WOULD YOU EDGESHOT?

NO HE WOULD NOT. THANK YOU EDGESHOT. ONCE AGAIN YOU ARE A REAL ONE

...or wait. so does he mean he is indeed going to go back to normal eventually? or is it that he’s embracing this new form as an exciting new evolution, hence the “even further”? it kind of feels like the latter, ngl. especially with this weird sad little smile Kacchan gives in response... fuck me. what the hell am I gonna do when this series ends in two weeks. nobody can rip my soul to pieces as utterly and effortlessly as Horikoshi does, man

THEY MADE THE KIDS LUNCH AWWWW. though in fairness there’s something seriously messed up with Japan if any of these kids ever has to pay for another meal again for the REST OF THEIR LIVES. like come on

noooooo goddammit I’m tired of seeing Izuku quietly despairing over things that AREN’T HIS FAULT

I am glad to see this side of the civilian population, though. sure have come a long way since the low point that was the U.A. clown mob. I like this a whole lot better ngl

what’s up with this mysterious bus all of a sudden

OH MY GOD THEY’RE BACK LMAO. QUICKLY BAKUDADS. form a perimeter

they’re apologizing again dsfkjlskdfjlsfd THEY DIDN’T EVEN CONSIDER EVERYONE’S CIRCUMSTANCES!!! holy shit these first years are all collectively my new favorite character

Cementoss couldn’t take the pressure omfg. is this your first year as a homeroom teacher?? YOU CAN MAKE ANYTHING OUT OF CEMENT BUT CAN YOU MAKE YOURSELF A FREAKING SPINE, CEMENTOSS. I love him

Cementoss is telling them to go work in the corner so they don’t bother everyone else lmao. stuck them as far away from Kacchan as possible. good looking out, Cementoss. how many dads are we up to now?? five? six if we count Iida????

“hey so anyway what actually is up with these fucking kouhai though” I don’t know but my greatest regret is that this only became a thing three chapters before the series finale. where has this nonsense been all my life

“I don’t really understand” me neither fella but here in BnHA land we just roll with it

now we’re cutting back to Ochako who’s making yet another mysterious face that makes me think she knows perfectly well how much we all want to know whether Toga is alive or not, and she’s deliberately dragging it out just to fuck with us

okay I honestly can’t tell if Ochako is being fake cheerful or genuinely cheerful. but it’s definitely fake cheerful right??

aaaaand there’s a close up of Deku with FULL LIGHT back in his eyes like the clouds just parted for the first time in an age. accompanied by a THROB sound effect. ohhhh buddy. did my boy just have a hormone. is it finally that time

THEY’RE LETTING THE KIDS GO BACK HOME OMG. if they want. awwww. r.i.p. fanfic dorms. poor Shinsou missing out ONCE AGAIN

THEY DIDN’T CATCH THE CONCLUSION OF THE TOGACHAKO FIGHT ON FILM??! oh hell no. that settles it, she’s definitely still alive

tell me this cheeky motherfucker (Horikoshi, not Ochako lol) isn’t going to try and actually END THE SERIES with Toga’s fate still all ~mysterious~ and ~up in the air~ like I’m starting to get the sneaking suspicion that he’s doing

HORIKOSHI I SAID I DIDN’T WANT A DEPRESSING CHAPTER WHY ARE YOU HITTING ME WITH THESE FEELS AFTER I LET MY GUARD DOWN

YOU REALLY GAVE MY GIRL A SYMBOLIC FRODO STYLE ANGSTY STAB WOUND SO SHE CAN NEVER FORGET THE PAIN OF THAT DAY ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW WITH THIS

DEKU AHHHHHH

oh my god lol. I’m so curious what’s going to happen next week. my money for the record is on them bonding in a STRICTLY PLATONIC WAY over their respective dead(!??!?!) villains rather than a Romance Thing happening. but I wouldn’t be bothered if they do go there though just so long as we don’t get any timeskip epilogues where they’ve all got fucking kids and such now. don’t you do that to me Horikoshi Kouhei. I swear to god two chapters left omfg. this is really happening. the inexorable march of time etc. etc. ahhhhhhhhh

[moodyvoid]

thinking about how shigaraki sends location (no texts, no explanation, just location) to dabi whenever they switched hideout and that one time, dabi ended up in front of GameStop be like ???

Dabi’s like “That idiot sent me the wrong address” but he didn’t, they’re literally hiding out in a GameStop building.

Shigaraki’s like “It’s the perfect hideout.”

And everyone else is like “This is literally the worst hideout.”

And then there’s Spinner who’s like “I dunno, guys. I think he has a point.” while unboxing a PS5.

The bell on the door rings and they all freeze as a customer walks in like “Hey, I’m looking to trade in some games.”

Spinner is like “These are some good games in solid condition, what should we offer?”

Shigaraki is like “Remember this is a GameStop, offer them next to nothing.”

[soumarhea]

Planes: Fire & Rescue featurettes!

I know Dipper's and the smokejumper's are bonus content of the physical release, and I've seen Dipper's on YouTube, but not the rest. After @valkyrieres posted Blade's here, it sent me on a quest to hunt for all of them, everything. I'm surprised I actually managed too. (All thanks to this post actually.)

I uploaded them on YouTube but unlisted, because I don't know if Disney is okay with me just posting it raw on public (or if they care at all) and I'd rather play it safe. Anyone else who have ideas on how to share this more publicly, I'm open to suggestions. So anyway,

Dipper

Dipper: Just no taildraggers.

Dusty: *was a taildragger

Me: huh???

The ending took me by surprise. Leadbottom catfishing Dipper while using Siddeley's picture. Wow. (May or may not be Siddeley, but it's the same model, so...)

Cad Spinner

This one is for you @cadfreakingspinner! And since this is Cad we're talking about,

CW: Flashing images and bright colors!!

Also, pray for Pulaski and André, and the poor vehicle who have to edit this for Cad. They don't get paid enough for this shit. In fact, I don't think they get paid at all.

Blade Ranger

Fellow Blade simps gather 'round! Let see his majestic aft flying into the rescue.

Blade's resigned look of "are you kidding me" after he jinxed it, and Windlifter being petty with that one retardant drop is hilarious.

Smokejumpers

Can you believe that Pinecone had more voice lines in this shorts than in the entire film?? Me neither.

They definitely edited their own splash art at the end there. Also, they got deployed to… go camping, before they even got deployed to a fire.

Am I disappointed that Windlifter and Cabbie got none? yeah. But I guess we can make the argument that Windlifter got rolled into Blade's, but the fact that Cabbie was barely in the smokejumpers' still bummed me out.

[fanaticsnail]

Honey Glazed

Chef Zeff. I love him, and I won't apologize for my adoration.

Warnings: hypothetical discussions regarding cannibalism, drinking.

Word Count: 2,500

(Coming from real life conversations and experiences in both my and chef-husband's hospitality careers; you'd be surprised at how much the thought comes up regularly in conversation. Yes, can confirm: chef's flirt like this)

It had been a particularly difficult shift; balancing your managerial roles like an expert plate spinner in a circus.

On one plate, you had a wait staff member needing consolation in the ‘cool room’ to manage their mental breakdown over a particularly rude patron dining in the circular wooden floor. On another, you had to talk down Patty from storming out onto the floor not only in defence of the aforementioned wait staff member, but due to the fact they sent their food back to the kitchen with the proclamation that their meat was undercooked and “bloody”.

Round and round you balanced the dynamic of pure professionalism with engaging with the variety of patrons, serving the dishes presented by the team of chefs, and managing the rapport with the staff with a cheery disposition under the ever watchful eyes of the braid-bearded, head chef Zeff. He would often gaze longingly at you, admiring how truly blessed he was to have you as his queen of the front of house, his warrior of waitressing and his confidant in comradery. And to think, he nearly didn’t hire you.

-------

From the amount of profiles and resume’s he had received from his request for a front of house manager, your resume stuck out like a gem incrusted tiara amongst a pile of dulled rocks. Ex-convicts, reformed pirates, seasoned managers and members of his own staff putting their names forward for the position; all eclipsed by your resume.

You were young, younger than he would ever consider thrusting into the role but older than his blonde apprentice. Kind, gracious and innocent were the three words that flew into the mind of the braided ex-pirate captain.

“Found someone yet?” the young Sanji asked him with his own frown rising to his face.

“Not yet, little eggplant,” he grouchily informed him, placing your resume back to the side of the table and away from any of the other candidate profiles.

“Well, hello,” Sanji said as he took the sheet within his hands, “this is the one, chef.”

Zeff again shook his head, flittering through the tattooed and scarred front of house manager resumes within his hands, muttering a simple: “no.”

“Why not?” the teen Sanji asked him, his eyes wide as he thrust the paper back into Zeff’s pile, “she’s beautiful.”

“That’s exactly why not, kid,” Zeff said again, pushing the resume away from him and back onto the table; “she’s not meant for here. Too pretty, too young,” Sanji shook his head as Zeff continued; “she’d be chewed up and spat out before she’d be able to manage the guests, let alone the staff.”

Sanji let out a small angry growl and fished your resume back and thrust it once more into Zeff’s arms; “humour me. Wait staff are meant to be pretty, it’s the chefs that are hardened criminals. If she’s applying to work on Baratie, it shows she has the balls to run the front of house looking the way she does.”

Zeff locked his eyes with his young apprentice, finally clasping the paper once more in his fingertips and looking it over in consideration. Sanji did have a keen eye for quality, travelling over from his appreciation of food to his appreciation of other areas of his interests.

You were perfect. From your vast experience to the way your uniform clung to you. He just needed to ensure your personality would match up to your role; and with one den-den-mushi call, he was completely smitten with you and offered you a full-time job immediately.

Flirty, fiery, charismatic and professional; exactly everything he didn’t know he wanted flittered in with the qualities he needed in his front of house counterpart. You were the one he wanted.

-------

You sighed, throwing your head backwards to relieve the tension gathered after waving off your closing floor staff for the evening. You leant your hips against the lit benchtop of the pass; the kitchen island closest to the door where chefs and wait staff would meet their hands in service.

“You gonna hang around for knock offs, sweets?” Zeff asked you from his place leaning against the frame of his office door with his arms crossed over his chest. You lulled your head to rest itself on your shoulder and smiled with your eyes barely parted.

“Yes, Chef,” you offered him an exhausted, two-fingered salute as you drew enough energy and willpower to push yourself forward from the pass. Zeff began his stride over to meet with you, his hand brushing with the small of your back to escort you through the entrance of the kitchen and up towards the fish-mouth lounge. You shot him another half-smile in thanks for his attention, a twinkle forming back within his own gaze in appreciation for your gratuity.

He remained close as he approached the bar with Patty falling his grasp of several bottles and sloppily attempting to pour beer from the taps into the wrong kind of vessels. A groan fell from your lips and your back dropped, defeated at the sight that lay before you.

“Get out of there, Patty,” you ordered him with a smile, making your way behind the bar and away from Zeff’s hold on your body, “stick to the food. I’ll get you lot your knock offs.”

“Don’t forget about yourself, honey,” Zeff ordered you, his uneven step making his way over to the till to begin his inventory duties to complete the close of the night. You nodded at him before beginning to assemble a variety of drinks while overhearing the chefs discussing something amongst one another in hushed tones; brows furrowed, lips passionately fleeing words in whispers.

The three major instigators in conversation were Sanji, his eyes widening and hands gesturing to different points of his torso before trailing them down towards his stomach; Patty who was shaking his head with a frown and gesturing to his shoulder blades while hissing out between his lips; and Carne who was just watching the conversation falling between them standing concerned and confused.

You approached the chefs with their knock offs: a red wine for Sanji, a flagon of ale for Carne and a dry whiskey for Patty while keeping another red wine to the side for your head chef to retrieve once he had done inventory.

“There you are, lads,” you uttered with a sigh as you held the drinks forward, your left hand reaching behind your neck as you relieved it of the tension with circular motions beneath the ministrations of your fingertips, “knock offs: done.”

“What are we drinking tonight, love?” Sanji arched his brow upward and pursed his lips suggestively. You leant forward against the bar in response, your elbows and palms lying flat as you brought your face closer to his.

“You’re drinking a cabernet sauvignon-,” you whispered an inch away from his lips, tilting your chin upwards; a pink blush immediately rising to rest on Sanji’s cheeks, “-and I’m,” you pulled away from his face with a small giggle, “having a black Russian.”

You fished your fingertips within the short glass, pulling out the stem of the bright red maraschino cherry and plopping the syrupy fruit on your tongue; wrapping your lips around it and breaking the stem away with a ‘pop’. The three chefs in front of you held their gaze, completely transfixed by your suggestive movements.

This was your favourite part about working at Baratie. The rapport and flirtatious engagements between the front of house and the back of house was the driving force to keep you motivated as you navigated through the shift. After chewing and swallowing the amoretto-forward fruit, your warm laugh fell contagious amongst the four men; Zeff shaking his head off while continuing jotting down his varied notes.

“And all of you-,” you placed the stem of the cherry into the compost bin located below the wooden surface, “-were talking about cooking with human again, weren’t you?”

An apprehensive blush rose to the three chefs in front of you, ashamed of their unbridled conversation.

“Look,” you began, shaking your head, “there’s too much variety in your body shapes and muscle density. You’ve got to focus on just the one of you or you’re never going to make cohesive progress in this completely hypothetical situation.”

“Oh?” Sanji began, raising his glass away from his lips while taking his bottom lip between his teeth; giddy about your willingness to join in the conversation, “so who should we choose to hyper-fixate our cooking practices on? I’m all ears, love.”

You laughed at him, a shrug adorning your shoulders and mouth down-turning in thought, “what about me?”

The chefs all down-turned their mouths in thought, eyes falling to your body as you adorned a slightly more dressed-down version of your uniform. You laughed, held out your arms and gave a small turn in response to their ponderance.

“Will I suffice?” you arched your brow up as you made your rotation back towards the three chefs once more.

“You’ll do nicely,” Carne nodded, turning his body atop the stool to bring his body to face Sanji next to him and Patty behind him, “thoughts, gentleman?”

“Smoked on an open fire,” Patty nodded, gesturing to your body. You chuckled, raising the cool liquid to your lips and taking a small drink as you rested your back against the wall of the bar.

“Smoked?” Sanji questioned him with an elevated tone, “what, and ruin the natural sweetness of her body and unable to crisp up her beautiful skin? Look at her! Whole-smoked?”

“Oh, and what would you suggest; Sanji?” Carne spoke up, prompting the blonde to first turn to him and frown before bringing his attention back towards your body.

He raked his eyes from your ankles, dragging his gaze slowly up your thighs and settling on your stomach. His tongue flicked out to dampen his lower lip in thought as he drew his sights to your breasts before falling to your arms. You giggled at his attention, almost regretting your decision to open your body up to extreme examination.

“I’d take my time,” Sanji began, gesturing to a variety of points on your body, “cut the different portions and begin reductions at the same time as preparing your body to not only be smoked,” he grimaced at Patty before turning his eyes back towards you, “but also honey glazed.”

The four of you all chuckled at the conversation falling between you. Zeff, finally having completed his inventory, made his way back towards his key staff members and collected the red wine glass from the counter besides you.

“Care to weigh in, chef?” you asked him, eyes half-lidded and your signature smile falling to your lips, “if you had my body to enjoy,” you gestured down to your torso and legs, “how would you prepare me for consumption?”

Having no prior context to the conversation falling between the four of you, Zeff found himself get slightly flustered under your brazen disregard for discussing cannibalising your body. You widened your eyes and shook your hand outwards defensively with a laugh.

“Hypothetically speaking, chef,” you breathily laughed in defence of your prior suggestion, “we were talking about how you chefs would go about preparing human. Thought I’d volunteer my flank, ribs, legs, shank and rump,” you playfully slapped your left ass cheek with a giggle, “for continuity’s purposes.”

Zeff hummed thoughtfully, raising his glass to his lips with another glimmer of adoration behind his eyes at how truly accustomed you were to engaging flirtatiously with himself and his staff. He sampled the vintage over his palate, rolling the bitter liquid over his tongue and whistling it through his lips to oxidise the wine to savour the flavour. In response, you rose your black Russian back up to your lips and take the final gulp of the liquid and lay the glass upturned against the bar sink.

“Go on, chef,” you encouraged him, doing another small twirl in front of him, “lay it on me. I truly don’t mind.”

Sanji smirked as he witnessed the flirtations engaging between you and Zeff. He was well aware of his favouritism of you, potentially harbouring more than simple affection for you as his manager. You were a part of the crew, a major part of running smooth operations; Sanji would think Zeff daft to not harbour a semblance of infatuation with you.

“There’s a lot I could do with your body,” Zeff smirked with his left brow arched upwards, causing a small tingle to rise up in anticipation of your next words. The head chef stepped forward, placing his glass down to the side and reaching with his right hand forward to claim your left.

He moved his bearded jaw towards your arms, slowly raking it upwards while inspecting your flesh; uttering: “braised in red wine, spice and liquid smoke,” his lips travelled up to your shoulder, halting at your arched neck, “roasted with a mirepoix and pesto butter.”

Your jaw hung slack with a small smile falling to your lips as your eyes watched your chef remove himself from your body and twirl you away from him; tracing his fingers down your spine, “I’d either crack these separately,” he trailed his hands over your ribcage and leant in towards your ear, “or I’d keep them as a solid rack and tenderise them with a firm massage with coarse sea-salt to bring out your natural sweetness.”

A blush crept up towards your cheeks as you felt his arm come around your body to bring itself against your thigh and clutch it firmly in his wide hands; “but this,” he steadily shivered your flesh under his strong grasp, “this would be my absolute favourite. I’d stud it with cloves, cross-hatch and cure it,” his breath tingled against your neck as his lips traced the shell of your ear, “and I’d glaze it with a sauce as sweet as you are, honey.”

An unintentional gasp fled from your lips at his words. You admit to yourself, you enjoy the odd flirt from time to time with the staff; but this particular interaction with your boss felt unlike any flirtation you had engaged with him prior. Your whole body tingled in surprise and shock at how Zeff so intimately spoke to you, even though it was words so completely unhinged as how to cook you appropriately.

Zeff chuckled and withdrew his hand from your thigh and made his way back towards the wooden bar; reopening the cabernet sauvignon bottle and filling his crystal glass once more before offering the neck to Sanji’s empty one.

“Anything to add, boys?” Zeff asked his team from his spot behind the bar, you remaining stunned before shaking off your stupefied state and bringing yourself beside Zeff and beginning to make your second black Russian to continue to rid your body from the rise of heat.

“Yeah,” Sanji added, raising his glass to his lips, “you’d probably fuck it all up with oregano.”

[musei-thoughts]

𝘎𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳. [𝘉𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳]

01.

𝙖𝙜𝙧𝙖𝙥𝙝𝙞𝙖

(𝘯.) 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳'𝘴 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬

Ran didn’t know how he ended up being tied up to a spinning wheel. 

A moment ago, he was with Mikey and the others, enjoying the party. 

But now, he’s on the stage, knives getting thrown his way.

"Alright ladies and gentlemen! Just say the word and my assistant will spin the wheel faster!” The performer says.

The audience buzzed with excitement as Ran tried to maintain his composure, hanging helplessly on the wheel. He shot a look towards Rindou and the others, who were thoroughly enjoying the unexpected turn of events. 

“Go faster!! Surely you can do better than that!” Rindou shouts, cupping his hands around his mouth, “Spin him faster!” 

“WHAT THE HELL, RINDOU?!” Ran screams from the wheel, earning a laugh from the audience.

"But you said you needed a bit of excitement in your life, Ran." Rindou mocked. "This is not what I had in mind!" Ran retorted.

The performer grabbed another set of knives. "You heard the man! Fasten your seatbelts, folks, we're taking this to the next level!"

The performer’s assistant, seemingly eager to please the crowd, gave the wheel an extra push, sending Ran into an even more dizzying spin.

As the wheel spun faster, Ran's shouts reached a pitch that only dogs could appreciate. The audience who were now more invested in the impromptu spectacle (and were truly enjoying Ran’s screams), erupted into laughter and cheers as the performer, with a twinkle in her eye, tossed more knives, each one closer to Ran but expertly missing him.

The act ends as one final knife was thrown right below Ran’s crotch, eliciting gasps from the audience. The performer bows, gesturing towards Ran like he was the star of the show. "Thank you, thank you! And a special shoutout to our human fidget spinner, Mr. Haitani!" 

The audience laughed and cheered for him as he got off the stage, clothes and hair disheveled as he tried to walk straight. Walking towards the others, he glares at them as he fixes himself up, “You are all dead to me.” He grumbles to his colleagues who were the ones who got him up on stage.

“Especially you.” He points at his brother, who only snickered at him, knowing that his brother loved him too much to even mean his words.

As performers left the stage, the quartet began to play a calm melody as all the excitement died down. “That was one hell of a show you put up for us, Mr. Haitani.” The men turned their heads towards your direction, where you stood in a dazzling black gown, silver crystals embezzling the bodice and waistline of the outfit. Your neck was adorned with a silver necklace, embellished with topaz and moissanite stones along with earrings that complimented the design.

“I apologize if I wasn’t able to greet you sooner considering that you came all this way to attend.” You smiled at them apologetically.

Rindou, decided to take this as an opportunity, holding his hand out for you to take while slightly bowing, eyes meeting yours with a mischievous glint, “I suppose a dance would make up for it, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes flickered with amusement as you took his hand, “Well, Mr…?”

“Rindou. Rindou Haitani.” He replied.

“Oh, you are related to Ran?” 

The said male smiles at you, “He’s my cute little brother~” 

“Shut it, aniki.” The younger Haitani spat before turning back to you, “Also, call me Rindou. There’s no need for formalities…” He leans into your ear, whispering, 

“...since I see us getting more acquainted in the future.” 

The feeling of his breath on your neck sent shivers down your spine, making you weak on your knees. But, fortunately, you were able to keep your composure. “Well, Rindou, I wouldn’t want to be accused of being an inhospitable host.” 

With that, he led you to the dance floor, taking slow and careful steps before facing you and placing a hand on your waist while the other held onto your own. Ran watched his brother take you away, amused. He couldn’t deny that he was slightly jealous, but it’s his little brother we’re talking about. He’ll let Rindou have you for the time being.

“So, Rindou. What do you think of the party so far?”

The mullet haired male tries to stifle his smile, thinking of the past events, “Well, aside from my brother becoming a human target, I find it quite charming. The food was exquisite, as if the menu was carefully planned out. The music fits well into every part of the event, making it more immersive. And as for entertainment, well…” He pauses, thinking as he twirls you around.

“I think I’d be entertained enough if I had your attention all night.”

Before you could even say a word, the dancers changed partners, and now, you find yourself in the arms of a shorter male. He had long gorgeous white hair that reached his shoulders, with the side of his hair braided? Shaved? You couldn’t quite pinpoint. 

Seeing you inspecting his face, he grins at you, “Looks like I’m the lucky one to sweep you off your feet next.” You chuckled at him, appreciating his confident yet lighthearted demeanor, “And who might you be? I assume that you’re one of Rindou and Ran’s colleagues?” 

“Kokonoi Hajime, but you can call me Koko, darling.” 

You raised an eyebrow at the nickname, a smirk playing on your lips, “So, Koko, what do you do?” He twirls you out, then pulls you back into his arms, with your back pressing against his chest, “Oh, I’m an auditor in some big organization. I manage finances, make more money, and you know, do all the money talk.”

You couldn't help but be impressed, both by his smooth dance moves and his casual explanation of handling finances. You found his straightforwardness refreshing. “Ah, the man who knows how to handle the money. That’s impressive.” You complimented.

Koko’s smirk widened, and he leaned in, whispering into your ear,

“Well, I can handle more than just money, you know?”

Like with Rindou, people changed partners before you could even react. Now, you found yourself face to face with Ran’s tall figure. He swiftly pulls you closer to him, pressing his body against yours as he firmly places a hand on your back, making you put your right hand on his shoulder. His free hand grasps yours as the two of you face the same direction. 

The gentle music slowly dies down, transitioning into a lively yet smooth and romantic song. Ran’s eyes met yours, giving you a dashing smile, “Well, darling…”

“...Shall we dance?”

𝘢/𝘯: 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘦𝘴. 𝘣𝘵𝘸, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥? 𝘪'𝘮 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳?

𝘵𝘢𝘨𝘴: @haitani-maki @jebemticeluporodicu @rindouscumbucket2 @anyahlator @cienfleurx @mimisweetz

𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘥: 2/27/24

previous chapter | next chapter

[satancopilotsmytardis]

Oh? Do you have an example of those thirst/pining texts?

Tomura: I am going to kill myself

Spinner: It's 6:43 in the morning what the fuck could he have done this time that's got you contemplating death and waking me up?

Spinner: If you tell me you had a dream or something I'm gonna stab you myself and you won't have to worry about suicide.

Tomura: I went down to the gym to train, and I heard water and saw a lot of steam coming out of the locker room. Went in and heard the showers running but all the lights were off. I figured someone might have forgotten to turn them off or something and he was just. In the shower. Fully clothed, drenched, leaning back against the tiles.

Tomura: He was so hot the steam was all coming from /him/. His eyes were practically glowing.

Spinner: and I'm sure that his soaking wet white t-shirt had nothing to do with your current thirst.

Tomura: No, that was definitely a contributing factor. Have you seen his chest?

Tomura: Also you owe me ¥2000, his nipples ARE pierced. He said he was going back out to train. He didn't even dry off because he's evaporating the water. I have to kill myself because if I go back out there and have to watch him train dripping wet I'm going to do something else stupid.

Spinner: at this point I am literally begging you to just go out and ask him to fuck. I cannot deal with this shit anymore. Just fucking rip off the band-aid dude.

Tomura: ....

Tomura: you're right

Spinner: wait, shit, really???

...

Spinner: I DO NOT want details, but did you actually fuck???

Spinner: Seriously, Shig, it's been like 4 hours and no one has seen either of you all day????

Tomura: We didn't fuck.

Tomura: I went out to talk to him and barely got a word out before he collapsed. We're with Ujiko. Dabi apparently is suffering from mild heat stroke, exhaustion, and dehydration. He's on an IV and got a mild sedative to sleep. I'll text the others about the meeting, but we probably won't be back until later tonight or tomorrow.

Spinner: shit, yeah, okay. I hope he feels better soon

Spinner: he works too hard, you both do. You know that the rest of us are here to help if you guys just loosen up a bit, yeah?

Tomura: I know, thank you.

Tomura: He is very cute when he sleeps tho

[Tomura has sent a picture]

Spinner: no, nope, I know you're in love with him but that it some creepy shit dude, even for villains

[Tomura has deleted a picture]

Spinner: it's also creepy if you sit at his bedside and watch him sleep all day.

Tomura: from what I understand, it's very normal for friends and family to stay by someone's side if they're in the hospital. Since he won't tell us about himself, we're the closest thing he has as far as we know. I'm staying

Spinner: Creep

Tomura: I've been called worse

[infinitywrites]

I Didn't Expect You Part 2 ~ Conrad Fisher

(Part 1) (Masterlist) (Part 3)

gif credit @madscline

synopsis: Y/N never expected it to be the summer that everything changed. Conrad, Belly and Steven were all dealing with the consequences of recent break ups whiles Jeremiah's wasn't acting like himself. Susannah was undergoing treatment that provided unpredictable health results and kept her loved ones on the edge of tragedy. Had they drained the well of the magic of Cousin's beach? Or could something new fulfil it again?

warnings: multichapter slow burn, warnings will update with every chapter, timeline is both POST S2 and a retelling of S2 with changes, everyone swears, Laurel/Cleveland, Susannah is sick, otherwise lots of fluff in this one

word count: 4,434

___________________________________________

I just wanna know you better,

know you better, know you better now

All I know since yesterday is

Everything has changed

After I snuck in a power nap after unpacking with Belly, I headed down to the kitchen to check on the plan for dinner. I'd always looked forward to visiting Cousin's to taste Susannah's Pinterest recipe of the month. I shouldn't have been surprised to see Jeremiah at the stove stirring something aromatic, warming the kitchen up. "Well, look who's taken up the mantle of vacation cook." I teased and patted his back lightly after a quick peek over his shoulder at the sauce simmering.

"Not just vacation cook, either. Just wait, I've gotten a lot better in a year." Jere smiled through his intense focus and turned his head towards Laurel sitting at the island. "I'm ready for the carrots now, Laur."

As she dumped the shredded carrots into the sauce, she assured me when I sent a raised brow her way, "Don't worry, I'm just helping with prep. Cleveland is actually looking forward to impressing you all with his culinary skills so Jeremiah can actually enjoy his summer."

Jeremiah never took his eyes off the pot, "I told you, I'm into this now. Maybe I'm destined to be a famous chef!"

"You just had to add 'famous' in there, didn't you." Conrad turned the corner into the kitchen and flicked his brother in the ear. Jeremiah smacked his hand away as they both snorted a laugh.

"What can I say? I dream big!"

My hands found my hips without even noticing, "I'm really proud of you, Jere. It smells incredible. No thanks to Conrad." I shot my glare directly at him when his name left my lips.

He'd lifted two grocery bags onto the counter by the sink and was starting to unload vegetables when he scoffed. "Hey! I went all the way to the farmer's market to get stuff for the salad, if you must know. Actually make yourself useful and chop these." He tossed me a cucumber and a pepper before I could tell him that's the exact reason I came down in the first place. I got distracted by my own thoughts when he threw a big tomato that should have splattered all over the floor if not for sheer dumb luck. Conrad paused and mimicked throwing a radish bunch before I stared him down mouthing 'don't you dare'. When he finished washing the lettuce, he slid next to me at the island and pulled out the salad spinner.

Luckily there weren't any more shenanigans as we all worked together to finish the pasta, salad and fresh garlic baguette that Jeremiah swore was an elevated form of garlic bread he'd learned about from Top Chef. Conrad pointed out that he was surprised he picked anything useful up while watching Padma Lakshmi. Eventually Belly and Steven joined as a clean up crew, while Laurel set the table just like Susannah used to have it done up. Cleveland complimented Jeremiah's hard work and thanked Conrad for the quick surfing lesson before he'd tested his limits that afternoon. When everything was ready, Laurel went to get Susannah and the room was in a standstill. The anticipation was suffocating. It wasn't until Belly reached out and grabbed my hand that I realized I was holding my breath.

Susannah walked slowly, supported gently by her elbows by Laurel, with her signature bright grin for everyone in the room. She looked both better and worse than I'd seen her last. It was incredible what a sunny disposition could do and Susannah was the best at it seconded only by Jeremiah, with her sparkling blue eyes. The build up released into an awkward tension for exactly three seconds before Susannah sighed, "I can't believe you guys let me sleep all the way until dinner. Who's sneaky idea was that?" Her eyes scanned the room while Laurel chuckled by her side.

"That was all big brother over here, Mom. We wanted to surprise you!" Jeremiah smacked his brother in the chest as Conrad hung his head waiting for his mother's reaction.

"We had everything under control, Mom." He said and I glanced his way, taking in the new information until Conrad caught my eye and I looked back at Susannah in a flash. I kinda felt bad for giving him shit after hearing that.

"Of course you did, sweet boy, but I'm feeling good and next time I want a chance to order everyone around the kitchen." Laurel sat Susannah down at the head of the table while Jeremiah got to work fixing her a plate.

Cleveland, Conrad and Steven grabbed the various serving dishes and took their seats while I heard Steven yell back, "You got it, Susannah. I'm not going the whole summer without your jambalaya."

Dinner went smoothly after that. Susannah's spirit was as full as her energy when she focused on catching up with everyone around the table. Everyone complimented Jeremiah's culinary progress and Cleveland joined him in plans to treat everyone to a weekend feast before we all parted ways. Steven even talked a little bit about his breakup with Shayla and I reached over to give his hand a quick squeeze when his mouth turned down at the corners. Laurel got quiet before she admitted she couldn't believe how grown up Steven had gotten all of a sudden. The mood lightened a bit when he rolled his eyes and teased her for making his breakup about her empty nest syndrome.

Steven had been my best friend as long as I'd been staying at Cousin's over the past eight summers or so. Mom said it gave me a necessary break from the monotony of her condition and when Auntie Laur split from Uncle John, she said they needed me more than she did. Steven's breakup with Shayla happened before Prom at least and he seemed more angry than hurt after he talked to her the last time. Long distance was hard and she wasn't planning on coming back before Steven was headed to Princeton anyway. It was what was best for both of them and he knew it too. I tried to lift his mood after he got his Princeton acceptance a few weeks later by reminding him that he would have hated being tied down freshman year. Now he could charm his way around campus all he wanted without feeling a lick of guilt. This got the first smile out of him I'd seen since his Prom photos. He'd made the most of that night at least.

Jeremiah seemed to have the same idea and said, "This is exactly what you want though, Steve-O. No strings. No commitments. Focus on school…and Jersey girls." He really wasn't as slick as he thought when he put a hand up to direct the last part away from the parents. Conrad and Steven still shrugged and chuckled amongst themselves like he'd had a point.

"All right. New topic. I know you're dying to ask Y/N about Stanford and this is your moment." Laurel waved her hand to both shut Jeremiah up and encourage Susannah at the same time.

She put her hands down on the table for emphasis as her gaze narrowed in on me, "I can't believe you're going to Stanford in the fall. It's so exciting!"

"I'm glad you approve." I couldn't help but let the smile stretch my face at her joy.

"Approval, are you kidding? My little California twin." Susannah winked in my direction and I could have sworn I saw Conrad watching the scene play out.

"You can take the girl out of Cali but you can't take the Cali out of the girl." Laurel sing-songed as she finished her glass of wine.

"Why you gotta be so lame about it, Laur?" Susannah's shoulders dropped and she sent an exasperated look to her lifelong friend.

When Susannah got like this it always made us laugh and this time it was no different. Sometimes the only adult in the room was Laurel so at least she had Cleveland around, who was just listening attentively and taking in the group dynamics.

Laurel looked shocked for a second and cut back, "You're the one who–All right," and huffed in defeat before she turned back to me. "I'm excited for you too, Y/N. Beck's right, a change of scenery and a fresh start is an incredible opportunity at your age wherever you go."

Jeremiah was looking at Conrad when he said, "Summer everyday sounds pretty good to me," and punched his brother's arm which made me furrow my brow in confusion.

Susannah glanced their way with a mischievous look, "You know, I always told Conrad he'd find himself in the West coast."

Conrad looked at them both,"Subtle, mom."

"Well, if you aren't going to tell them–"

My jaw must have been on the floor as I gaped at him. "Wait, you're–"

"I'm waiting on late admission offers. Mom convinced me to apply over Christmas break." He shrugged it off like it wasn't a big deal but everyone knew the meltdown I'd had at the end of last summer trying to perfect my Stanford application.

Belly added with a teasing tone, "He made me proofread his essay like five times."

"Yeah, me too," Cleveland pointed at him and shook his head.

"OhmiGod, did everyone know but me? The person already going?" Steven looked scared as he swore he didn't so I looked around the table in disbelief and finally landed on Belly, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"Don't look at me! I told him to tell you." Belly raised her palms in surrender.

My eyes went back to Conrad who's smile just grew, "It's a big campus. We don't have to see each other." He shrugged again and dove into his second helping of pasta.

My face dropped as I rolled my eyes and swore to ignore him for the rest of the night. Susannah sighed and caught my eye, "Don't listen to him, Y/N. He's terrified of moving so far away from his mommy–"

"Hey!" Conrad tried to interrupt but he was laughing almost immediately when he heard Steven and Jeremiah break.

Susannah continued despite his protest and the howling in the background, "so I'm putting you in charge of him. I wanna see you both back at Christmas with the best tans of your life."

Jeremiah was dying and hitting his brother in the chest, "Okay, but is she wrong though?"

"Fuck you, bro. You still live with her!"

Jeremiah sobered long enough to utter, "And I cherish every second." He blew his mother a kiss like the charmer he always was and Susannah smiled stretched a little further.

When the boys finally settled down, it was time for dessert that Conrad had picked up from the market and snuck into the fridge without my knowledge at least. Strawberry shortcake; one of Susannah's favourites and we all assured her that while it was decadent, it still wasn't as good as her recipe. After the cake was polished off, I ran upstairs to slip into my swimsuit and coverup dress in case I felt like a dip in the pool once the food settled. A few of us tried to offer our help to Cleveland but he insisted that he had a clean up ritual he really enjoyed as long as we gave him the space to do so. He said it was a thank you to everyone for the meal and the invitation.

Conrad came up behind him and patted him on the chest, "I was just an errand boy and didn't know you were coming so have at it, boss!" And exited quickly out the backdoor, already pulling a joint out of his pocket.

Steven's eyes followed him even as Jeremiah was trying to make plans to head down to the beach for the bonfire. "Uh, yeah man. I'm down. Gimme a second to change and I'll meet you out front." Steven nodded in his direction as Jeremiah agreed and headed for the door.

"Yeah, thanks for the invite and everything but I no longer have the energy or the patience for bonfire party bullshit." I teased in Steven's direction, who was still staring out the backdoor.

When he finally looked my way again, he looked sheepish, "Yeah, yeah. I was gonna invite you but I figured as much. It was never really your scene."

"You know me well. Have fun though, seriously." I was about to walk away when Steven asked me to wait.

"Hey, do you think you could talk to Conrad?"

There's nothing he could have said that would have shocked me less. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, I know. It's weird but…he's been off since we got here and Jere said longer. I don't know if it's Belly or just Susannah stuff but…"

"Did you hear him at dinner? What makes you think he wants to talk to me?"

Steven gives me a look like it's the stupidest thing I could have asked him so I concede. "Okay, whatever. Other than my family shit."

"You've always been the person who makes me feel better when…-like with Shayla. I think, no, I know he needs some of that right now." Steven always had the most effective puppy dog eyes. I was too weak to resist.

"I guess…I can try." I moved my gaze to a dark figure sat by the pool and started mentally preparing myself.

He started to back away but wouldn't take his eyes off me until he saw me heading outside. "Yes! You're amazing. I owe you, for sure."

I spat over my shoulder, "You think?"

"Okay, now. Before Jere leaves without me."

"Jeez, I'm going." Steven watched as I opened the sliding door and mouthed his thank you before jogging back upstairs to get ready for the bonfire.

The sun was almost down and the pool lights lit up the yard as the smoke wafted from the shadowed figure sitting on the edge. I rolled my eyes at my own apprehension and took a seat beside him before I lost my nerve entirely. The water was just cool enough to make the summer heat bearable for more than a few minutes.

"What's up?" He didn't look my way, occupied with his ritual.

I decided to start casually and try to work up to the kind of talk Steven was expecting. I still wasn't convinced that Conrad would be open to talking at all let alone to me. "Steven and Jere are headed to the bonfire soon. I wasn't sure if they told you."

He nodded. "You're not going?"

"No, the day was long enough. I came out here to stop myself from falling asleep on the couch." I kicked my feet in the water and debated splashing him.

"So much for Belly's power naps." He chuckled and finally glanced in my direction.

"Whatever, they work for her but I'm the one who drove us here." I shrugged.

There was a beat of silence before I pressed again. "What about you? Why aren't you going?"

"Same as you. Tired."

I tried not to let myself get too frustrated by his lack of response. It was weird behaviour from him though, "Hm."

That caught his attention again, "What?"

"Nothing. It's just, we know the bonfire was never my scene but you always went."

"And now I've accepted that it's not my scene either." There was an edge to his voice that told me to drop it.

"Fair enough… I was uh, I was gonna swim." I probably should have jumped in and splashed the shit out of him but there was an uneasiness that got to me.

"Okay. Don't mind me."

I stripped down to my one piece and kicked my dress and sandals a few feet away before driving in. The water really was the perfect temperature to be refreshing after the heat and stress of a long day. It felt good to stretch my limbs and work the muscles that no doubt were starting to cramp from driving for hours and falling asleep in an awkward position. Everytime I looked up, Conrad's eyes were on me and I struggled between meeting them for a few seconds before I realized he wouldn't be the first to look away. Belly had told me once that Conrad was confident in a way she'd never seen before. Shameless even, when he looked at her sometimes and she worried she'd never feel butterflies like that again. That same look intimidated other guys and coined him 'the mysterious type' around the Cousin's beach crowd. Belly said as she grew up, she'd hold his gaze longer and longer to test her theory and never saw him break concentration before her heart felt like it would beat right out of her chest. I had no intention of testing said theory and redirected my breaststroke in the opposite direction.

His joint getting smaller was the only real indicator that time was passing at all. The smell was annoying, of course, but it seemed to be wafting above me so I could admire the look of it dissipating into nothing instead. It was probably half an hour later, Conrad still perched on the pool's edge, when I climbed up the ladder, towelled off and sat back down beside him.

I looked at him, blowing smoke out over the pool water again, "Okay seriously, why didn't you tell me?"

He wouldn't look at me now, like he was sick of the sight but he still knew what I meant. "Do you own the school now?"

It didn't take much to deadpan my response. "You're funny."

He tried again. "So what? We tell each other things now?"

"When they directly impact each other's lives? Sure we do." I decided to let him get out whatever snark he needed before I got a real answer. This wouldn't turn into another stupid fight; we were too old for that shit now.

He narrowed his eyes in my direction. "You know I don't owe you anything just because we could be at the same school and living in the same state, right?"

And all of a sudden the plan went out the window and Steven would just have to accept that I tried and failed. "Okay, Conrad…" I got up to leave and went to bring my things inside.

"No, wait! I'm sorry. I–I dunno why I'm being such a dick."

I paused with an armful and hadn't decided yet if I wanted to listen to him. "Probably because you're so good at it."

"Okay, I'm sorry. Honestly. Belly was right, I should have told you when I applied. I just…I thought it might piss you off."

That made me turn to look his way, his head hung between his shoulders and his face lit up light blue and sullen as ever. "Since when do you care if you piss me off?"

"Now! Now, I do. With this. I didn't want you to think I was encroaching on your thing or following you or something. My mom's been talking to me about going to Cali since the beginning of high school but I never really thought–not with everything that happened."

The mask seemed to be gone now and that was the only reason I sighed and sat back down. Maybe Steven was right; maybe Conrad wanted to talk in his Conrad way. "I didn't think you were following me. Or encroaching. I just didn't expect you to wanna leave right now so I was even more surprised to hear it at all."

"I don't but…" It was like he was losing his words or thoughts halfway into getting them out. Maybe it was the weed going to his head. "I shouldn't have taken it out on you. Of course we would see each other at school. You know, if you want to. It's nice to know we wouldn't have to figure everything out alone there, right? It's exciting." He sounded sincere until he mocked the excitement.

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah…and Jere's right too. I'm worried about being so far away from Mom."

"She seems really excited for you. You're giving her what she wants, you know."

"I know, I'm just used to being an hour away at Brown and that was bad enough. Let alone six and that's just the flight." He got worked up by the thought alone and my heart clenched in my chest for him. I knew that feeling. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Conrad took a moment to collect his thoughts before he let out a deep breath. "You've come here every summer for years and you're away from your mom for so long. How do you…?"

I audibly sighed and started chuckling at myself before I could stop it, "Is it a cop out if I say practice? No, that's partly true. It gets easier and it helps that I know my dad is dedicated to taking care of her. And when I'm there there's nothing I can really do to help. I think that's the worst part actually. Sorry, I–"

"No, I asked."

I looked at him then and it was one of the few times I knew he was really listening to me. "A few years ago, I think I was 13, I begged my mom to let me stay home that summer. It was really bad for a little bit before and I just thought, what if I miss it? What if I'm not there? She said I was grasping for control I never really had. I was trying to pause my life for something inevitable. And not only was that not fair to myself but it wasn't fair to her either."

His eyes fell as he nodded and then flashed a small smile, "The moms must be conspiring behind our backs because that sounds suspiciously like what Mama Beck Fisher said about Stanford. Do the thing that scares you. That's how you really live."

I laughed a little at the sentiment. "Sounds like you got a cooler version at least."

"It's not like I didn't know about your mom but…I don't think I ever realized–"

"It's okay, Conrad." I shook my head, wanting to avoid that line of thought.

"You just seem so together all the time." I could feel his direct gaze when he said it even when I wanted to laugh in his face.

"I'm not, I just…when it comes to Susannah I feel like I've done this before. Been here. The worst fucking kind of familiarity. I don't even know what that has to do with anything, I just think I don't feel it yet. Not really. God, does that make me horrible?"

Conrad immediately shook his head in reassurance as I took a steading breath. "No. I don't think so, anyway. I think it'll catch up to you but…would you promise you'll tell me if– if you wanna to talk about it ever? You know if Steve-O or Belly aren't around. I dunno, maybe it'd help me to be there for someone else, you know?"

I turned my head to gape at him for the second time that night but he wasn't looking back at me this time. He was inhaling the smoke and blowing it over the pool again like he'd been doing for over an hour now. "Yeah sure."

He nodded once and put it out on the concrete and then away in his pocket before he lifted himself up.

I had to ask before he walked away, "Hey, Con?" I didn't continue until he turned a bit to acknowledge me. "Stanford is what you want too, right? It's not just for Susannah?"

A smile grew across his face, "You think I would've put myself through that brutal application process if I didn't?"

I coughed a laugh at his quick mood change, "That's right. I forgot about those ten proofreads."

He shook his head in amusement, "Exaggeration. Besides, I might as well follow my built-in babysitter."

"Fucking hell…" I winced as my head hung between my shoulders this time.

"Can't take it back now! Mama's boy like me, I'll never make it on my own!"

"I never agreed to that!" I said louder than I meant to in my frustration. It had been dark for a while even though I had no idea what time it was. "Would you keep it down?!?"

Conrad opened the sliding door and scolded, "Shh Y/N, the neighbours!"

I was left with the usual exasperation that was signature oldest Fisher and everything felt right in the world again. Well kinda. It should satisfy Steven anyway and I could mark it off as my good deed of the week. I looked out over the view and thought about the strange connection you had with the Fishers now. My mom had had MS for as long as I could remember and the constant state of grief in my house growing up was as normal as anything else in my life. Everyday was clouded with some difficulty, old or new, and the only real reprieve was summer with my cousins at Susannah's beach house. I could be a different person there who no one really knew outside my family, Fishers included. I'd even heard the whispers of my quiet, closed off nature and it always put a smirk on my face. It was like a fresh start at the end of every school year even if I didn't change at all. I could pretend for a few months that I was a normal girl who's biggest problem was my baby cousin's unrequited crush on an unattainable older jock, my sad lack of crush to obsess over instead and my best friend's tendency to get himself into trouble without ever trying.

A yawn pulled me from my thoughts and I gathered my things and climbed the stairs towards the quiet upstairs. I heard the shower running but didn't think anything of it as I passed the bathroom until the door swung open and the yellow light hit my peripheral vision. I looked right at Conrad walking across the hall to his room. He was noticeably wet-skinned and sauntering in a pair of boxers. The moment lasted a second before my eyes caught his trailing down and then back up to my eyes as he ruffled his wet hair with a towel. And then the door was shut and I turned away and shook my head to rattle my brain awake enough to make it to my bed in one piece. There was no counting for the ways in which the first night at Cousin's beach could mess with my head.

Next

___________________________________________

author's note: I'm blown away by the response and hope this next chapter lived up to expectations! Thank you so much for the support 🩵💙💚💛. I meant to get into the 4th of July party in this part but it got away from me so that's up next! Do the changes make sense? Y/N's backstory? More explanation is coming but please let me know if anything is too confusing to follow. Reply with comments and let me know if you wanna be added to my taglist. If you'd like to ask me about any upcoming chapter warnings you wanna be warned of ahead of time (angst? 18+ smut?) then come visit my blog with any questions and I'll be happy to answer!

taglist: @c4rpediem-s @jackierose902109 @lcvecstiel @h0t-as-h3ll @fandom-addict404

[mythicamagic]

Death Comes Knocking

AN: Not finishing projects seems to be the norm right now- so just take this lil 1,000 words of Lobo/Muerte x reader bc he gave me brain worms okay? Puss in Boots The Last Wish was so good you guys omg.

Pairing: Muerte x Female Reader

Rating: T

Summary: She's given a stern warning. 'No more of your kind are allowed' so she extends an offer to Death in return.

---

She’s seen him before, on the faces of those she’d loved. Their eyes would glaze over and become empty, void of all animation, becoming quiet and still as they took their last breaths. There- in the right hand corner of that glassy void in their pupils- the shadow of Death could be briefly seen, passing over and stealing all light.

The silk spinner has witnessed this countless times- from the luxury of these people’s bedsides as they peacefully passed, to freak accidents involving one too many drunken unicorns and a travelling puppet show. The world she inhabited was colourful, vibrant and endless- so it stood to reason that in this world, Death himself could be a real, breathing creature.

She just never expected to gain a personal audience with him.

“You’re becoming lonesome, inmortal.”

The woman jumped, startled so badly she lost grip on the white sheet she’d been taking down. A large hand snapped out to catch it mid-air, slowly lowering it back down to her in offering. It took a moment for her frozen hands to accept it, gazing up at the creature looming over her washing line. His shadow swallowed her whole. He gazed at her with a kind of unblinking- red eyed fixation- the kind that betrayed his identity before the suffocatingly still atmosphere did, as if time itself had frozen.

A wolf had entered her garden.

“Hate to be a bother…but when you get lonely it becomes a problem for me,” he continued in his perfectly polite tone. There was a faint, gravelly edge to his voice, but it hummed pleasantly in her ears rather than frightened her.

Recovering from her shock, the silk spinner folded her sheet and placed it atop a waiting pile.

“How so?” she found her voice.

“Well, you repeat the cycle, of course- the one that led you here,” he wandered around her humble garden, taking care to weave around bird feeders and windchimes without so much as a strand of fur brushing them. He moved on two legs like any human, not an odd sight. The graceful fluidity of his movements was alarming though. Deliberate and predatory. He was looping around her in a lazy circle that was slowly tightening. “It’s only natural…everyone’s predictable in a few certain ways: one of them is the universal truth that when you get lonely, you seek company,” he mused, finally stopping before her. “And the company of mortals just isn’t cutting it anymore, is it? Hm, my friend?”

He stood a good several feet taller than her. Not even attempting to crane her neck up, the woman tidied her basket and lifted it as if readying to walk back into her tiny cottage. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone. They all die eventually, I’m not sure why you’re worried.”

With that said she took a step, only to find her wicker basket snagging on something- a sickle. The wolf practically used it as a fish-hook, turning her back to face him, and this time she had no choice but to gaze down the grey expanse of his muzzle straight into those vibrant red eyes.

“You’re not listeniiing~” he sing-songed in a gentle, cajoling tone full of too much teeth. He tilted his head with a patronising smile. “What cycle led you here?”

As if she could forget. “My creator was…lonely,” she murmured. “So, he made me, and eventually more of my kind.”

“Right you are! And I’m not such a big fan of that. Of your…kind,” a single deadly claw skimmed her cheek in a whisper of steel on flesh. The suggestion of it sent her heart racing. “You’re all so heavy. I can feel you.” All at once the playfulness vanished from his expression, leaving only a quiet sense of malice and frustration in his tight whisper. “The world won’t withstand the weight of too many of you.”

“So you’re here to stop me before I can even think about creating more immortals, is that it?”

“Bingo! My work here is done,” the wolf leaned back with satisfaction, and it felt like the garden could breathe again. Air entered her lungs, and the silk spinner shuddered quietly when his shadow drew away, allowing sunlight to kiss her skin anew.

With his silent warning given, the wolf swung his previously concealed sickle up onto his shoulder and happily strolled toward her humble gate, whistling an eerie tune.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, so quietly it was a surprise he heard her at all. But he halted immediately in his tracks. She could see his hackles rise a little just beneath the folds of his hood. “I’m not afraid, so there’s no reason for me to listen to you- Muerte.”

Death turned and met her even gaze. His silver fur fanned gently in the breeze, his tail flicking with agitation.

“Oho I really don’t think you want to go there,” light glinted off his sharp rows of teeth, the points glinting like treacherous mountain peaks. “True I can’t harvest your soul, but you’ve seen the life flashing before people’s eyes as I’ve taken them.”

He was suddenly there before her again, tilting her chin up with the flat of his blade. Her body automatically tensed, watching as the black specs of his pupils shined white, two moons hanging in a blood-soaked sky. “You were there, just as much as I was. You know- cordera- how painful it can be. How painful I can make it,” hot, panting breath fanned over her upturned face. Those rows of teeth were now inches from her ear as he leaned in close. “You won’t die, no- but are you really prepared to suffer me, over and over again, for breaking the rules?”

She swallowed. It was impossible not to picture the numerous grizzly ways she’d seen or heard people die.

Satisfaction leaked into his animalistic features. “Heh, thought so. Be seeing you.”

But I…I’m still alone.

Before he turned away, Death seemed to notice her expression. “If you’re really that hungry for company, then find the other heavy ones weighing this world down.”

“I don’t uh- get on well with the others,” she admitted weakly, knuckles relaxing from her death grip on the wicker basket. “We’d be living together if we enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Touché.“ He shrugged his large shoulders, resting a sickle on one with a bored look. “Well it’s not my problem, figure it out on your own time.”

Alarm flashed through her chest inexplicably as he finally turned away.

“Wait-“

“Carajo!” he hissed, glaring at her like she’d overstayed her welcome despite him being the one to approach her home. “What is it now?”

“Since you’re the one who has a problem with me creating fellow immortals- but I’m still hungry for company- the solution is right under our noses, no?” She smiled and dropped her basket to spread her arms wide, gesturing to the humble space situated on the mountainside. “You will become my companion.”

It amused her to see his dark features become blank with genuine surprise. His triangular ears perched upon his head flicked and flattened to his skull as if he’d tasted something sour.

“Cómo fue?”

“You are Death incarnate,” she said, confidence filling her tone the more she spoke. Yes- why hadn’t she thought of it before? This was perfect. “You won’t die- and I can’t be killed and won’t age. It makes sense to keep each other company.”

“You want…my company? Mine?” He shot her a look like she was crazy.

“Is that a problem?”

He tilted his head, falling silent for a long, silent moment. His eyes narrowed, sweeping over her frame as he stalked closer. “…You must be starving very badly, if your need has driven you to beg for me to be in your midst. Only the souls of the suicidal and desperate call for me.”

“I’m not quite that far gone in my apathy for life. I’m 500 years young,” she smiled, offering her human hand out to his monstrously large, silver furred one to stop him from baring too harshly down on her, stopping him in his tracks. “But yes, I am…famished,” the admission slipped out oddly breathlessly, though she was uncertain why.

His mouth slowly upturned, sizing her up in an entirely different way from before. Intrigue, perhaps? He looked just as hungry as she felt.

“Well, well. What big eyes you have,” he purred, gazing at her intently with a wicked gleam in his own red hues.

She returned his smile with one full of teeth as her hand became engulfed in fur and warmth.

From that day on, Pygmalion’s immortal bride kept Death’s company whenever he had a moment to spare.

---

End

[honey-milk126]

Here’s the story idea for you? Have you heard of the song “opposites attract” by Paula Abdul? what if Spinner and a quirkless girlfriend (when they first met she helped him escape from the heroes) he absolutely loves her despite them being polar opposites😁

Opposites attract 💕

Spinner x Fem!Reader

A/n : I hope you enjoy!

𝐵𝑎𝑏𝑦,𝑖𝑡 𝑠𝑒𝑒𝑚𝑠 𝑤𝑒 𝑛𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑟 𝑎𝑔𝑟𝑒𝑒.

Being a quirk less girl in a world full of quirks, working as a nurse to help the heros heal, but you never thought you would end up helping out a 𝒗𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒂𝒊𝒏.

---

𝑌𝑜𝑢 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑚𝑜𝑣𝑖𝑒𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑇𝑉

The plan after work was to go home and shower, then watch TV, as it was a long day. But on the way home as you walk into the grocery store to get something easy for dinner.

But as you got your food you noticed a guy, he was bleeding from his arm, he had a cut that was super deep, and you noticed that he would need stitches.

---

𝐼 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑜𝑢𝑠 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒 '𝑒𝑚 𝑙𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡

"Let's go to my house to fix that cut you have." You said holding your hand out, offering for him to take it.

"You sure?" He said s a deep voice, you knew this act, he would act all tough and brave like he wasn't hurt.

"Yes, my house isn't far from here" you said starting to drag him.

"Okay, okay" he said stumbling over his feet.

--

As you stitched the wound up, he was looking around the house nervously.

"I'm not gonna hurt you" you assured him

"Do you not know who I am?" He asked

"Yes is do" you said looking up at him

"Then who am i?" He asked

"You are spinner, a villain." You said putting your gaze back on to the wound.

"So why aren't you scared?" He asked

"Because I understand why you became a villain." You said finishing up with the stitches.

"Oh?" He sounded surprised.

"Yeah." You said starting to clean the blood off of him.

"Do you want some food?" You asked.

"I'm go-" he stared but was interrupted by his tummy growling.

"I'll take that as a yes." You said smiling.

"Okay, but I gotta go soon." He said still looking nervous.

"If your worried about the heros, you can stop." You started

"Huh?" He sounded confused

"They know I don't like to be bugged by them." You finished saying as you started to walk to the kitchen.

"Oh, so your a hero?" He asked

"No, I'm a nurse" you answered

"Oh." He said still confused

---

𝐼 𝑔𝑜 𝑡𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑑 𝑒𝑎𝑟𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐼 𝑝𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑦 𝑎𝑙𝑙 𝑛𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡

As you got him fed and ready to leave with clear instructions to leave the stitches alone, you sent him on his way with a full belly of food and some to go.

As you started to get ready for bed you heard a knock on the balcony door. You knew that was one person.

As you went to the door ready for bed and already mad that your co-workers had messaged you to tell you that three heros were thrown in to a building and they were passed out and need care tomorrow when you came in.

"What do you want Hawks" you said as you opened the door to him.

"Well, little birdy~" he started

"Don't call me that." You said as your eye twitched

"Well, I'm looking for a villain, named spinner. " he said looking at you suspiciously.

"Well, I don't know where he is." You said clearly annoyed at the hero.

"Okay, I'll leave, bye baby bird~" he said flying off

As you closed the door to locked it and you turned around you seen a figure in the dark kitchen.

"Who's there?" You asked

"Well, you should know me." The voice that sounded so familiar said

"Hello, spinner" you said with a yawn.

"Hello, again. " he said comeing out of the dark kitchen.

"You need something?" You asked still super tired.

"I was wondering if I could stay here for the night" he asked

"Why?" You asked

"Well the villains want to know that you won't rat us out. " he said " plus it's a long walk back to the Hideout "

"Fine, but you're takeing the couch" you said

"Okay, thank you for letting me stay." he said offering.

"Okay, I'll go get you a few blankets and pillows." You said

--

As you walked back to the living room to see spinner playing with your pet that just woke up.

"Here you go" you said handing him the blankets and pillows.

"Thank you" he said

"Goodnight" you said walking to your bedroom.

--

As you got into bed and got covered up, you fell asleep pretty quickly. It normally takes you awhile but it was quite and you felt safe for the first time in a while.

--

As time went on you and spinner got closer, he would always stay at your house, and you would help him if he got injured.

What suck was you fell in love pretty quick, he started to like you after you helped stitch his wound up.

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𝑂𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑑𝑠 𝑎𝑟𝑒 𝑠𝑎𝑦𝑖𝑛' 𝑤𝑒 𝑎𝑖𝑛'𝑡 𝑔𝑜𝑛𝑛𝑎 𝑙𝑎𝑠𝑡

After awhile your friends knew you liked the villian spinner, but they all wanlrned you that he was dangerous.

But he was so sweet to you.

He would buy you flowers and candy. (He actually stole them but it's okay)

He loved to see you dress up.

After awhile he started to get nervous around you.

So once the sky was dark and the stars were out, he took you to the beach with some sun flowers, and he asked you out.

He loves everything about you, how you look when you wake up.

How look getting ready for work.

How you look so tired coming back from work & getting ready for bed.

He loves you for everything, you might be a little weird, but you love him just at much, maybe even more!

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End, I hope you enjoy this!

I'm so sorry it took so long!