#this is so damn indulgent | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lucabyte · 8 days ago

Note

hello

is this how your peopls work. i am obsessed with your comics and the panel layout and the way they react to eachother and sdgafkhgfdhsagfha s i very desperately need to have a grasp on how you see them in their dynamic and interacting and i feel like i don't know as much about how isabeau and loop be interacting but i am so so so so SO curious as to how that goes and how they feel about eachother pre-"i'm a former siffrin" and post-"ok you know who i am"

oh hell yeah a diagram we love a diagram

but yeah i'd say you've gotten my interpretation of the dynamic down pretty solid??

in general i think my instinct with loop-isabeau interactions is a lot tamer/calmer than others ive seen, my reasoning for why being hmm... i think i can note my core 'things im keeping in mind from the text' here

isabeau's line in act 6 remarking that loop seemed 'shy'. for all of loop's bravado @ siffrin (and thus the player's pov), they are still siffrin, so while it can be easy to percieve them as this loud bombastic personality-- there is this textual reminder that them acting this way is probably due in part to being up against siffrin, someone who won't speak unless spoken to (and thus loop takes the initiative, and is also presumably reveling a bit in making them uncomfortable and annoyed, inkeeping with their self-hatred and self-flaggellation) this to me reads as a reminder that they'd probably retreat into their shell hard when presented with other people- the party included. so even if i can see them trying to undermine their relationships with others, i think it's probably more on the insidious 'insulting siffrin to make the party protective of them' side, because that also feeds into 'proving' that the party only cares about one siffrin and that loop can be replaced. meanwhile isabeau has shown that, even with a vicious jealous streak, he can mostly keep a lid on it. he's the most emotionally intelligent of the group, and would probably be able to suss out loop's self-harm-via-getting-people-pissed-off-at-them gambit relatively simply given how obvious it is. also isabeau is not immune to insecurity-- and would probably let loop take some precidence over their relationship with siffrin because 'well i cant compete with the guy who actually went through All Of The Timeloop With Them.' because like... damn how are you supposed to do that. loop understands their pain better than isa ever could, and it would show in their fucked up unspoken understanding of each other (because how is Isa to know thats because theyre the same guy, and not just because the timeloop traumabonded the fuckers baddddly. which it also did.).

timeloop stressful as fuck. absolutely has both of them on tenterhooks the whole time. we visibly see how it affects siffrin (despondance & mania & aggression), and we see SAPfrin be very. very very despondant. so it would seem to me that loop is basically in a perpetual state of mania, given how sif's internal monologue begins to resemble their way of speaking (with the tee hees and such) when they are clearly broaching into manic states. one can assume that if you take loop out of the Torment Nexus, while they probably wouldn't faire well, all of the tension and pressure that's holding them up would collapse, likely putting them more depressive again by default? Of note, whenever i write loop's dialogue (which im told i do well? i will be honest i kind of feel like that's far too high praise.) i initially write it as very blunt and pissed off-- and will afterwards go back in and Maybe change wording to be more 'silly', but mostly i just add tildes~, italics, exclamation points and laughter to the pissed off dialogue without changing the actual content of it?

loop likes their friends! They are fucked up in the head about it (badly!!!) but they like their friends! They still care a lot, and can barely even hide it a little bit with their aloofness in game. it feels redundant to even try pointing out where they slip up because its everywhereee. They de-person their Actors because theyre the same lines over and over and over, but you see in SAP alone how any break from the script makes them overwhelmed with emotion, and how devastated they are if that deviation occurs a second time and becomes predictable (dying to the king after triggering the requisites for the true end, forcing you to go through it again). BUT!! You take their friends out of the timeloop and let them be New Unpredictable People again? I genuinely find it hard to believe mx siffrin "i love my friends so much id explode the world about it" nolastname would be able to see that and just go "nope im emotionally disconnected i can keep being a bitch to these guys forever". like no theyre gonna slip into being at least neutral no matter what. even if it's in a quiet depressive state when the mania wears off.

my biggest deviation from frequently observed fandom things here i think: i think loop doesn't actually believe that ISAT!Party are 'replacements'. they rarely if ever word a sentiment like this. this is something the fandom goes for because the horror of being replaced wholesale probably WOULD make it easier to cope if you considered those people to Not Be Your Real Friends. But loops WHOLE act 6 spiel? 'THEY WERE MINE FIRST. I LOVED THEM'? (paraphrased) they obviously desperately want to be with them again, and know they're the same people. The Fighter/Defender discrepancy clue is mostly metatext here-- since Loop never acknowledges the defender title-- just calling ISAT!Isa Fighter-- because they are the same guy. Your Fighter. They even call them Fighter in the "You got memory of X, your Fighter will now..." dialogues! Which are practically system dialogues! So. they see these isabeaus as the same. And while I would not put it past them to come up with the "they are different, my party is Dead" thing to Cope... I do think it is a delusion, plain and simple, and that I think any post-knowing-the-truth party would probably shut down weird rituals ive seen the fandom propose (often in a cute way??? it makes me feel insane?? like the concept of loop 'memorialising' their 'dead' family is not cute its nuts. they are being nuts. its like actively feeding into an extremely maladaptive coping mechanism. sorry this is like a massive sidebar but like. Yes i do think this is something loop might do if left unchecked. but it should not be presented as sane or rational? it outright undermines the themes of the game to treat the concept of 'Loop's party' being 'dead' as 'True'?? There's like several points in the game where Loop and Siffrin express that things that happened in the loops Still Happened even if the party dont recall it-- which is why their actions-- being cruel or doing 'experiments' still hold weight and can be Wrong. That it's tragic that the party will never remember but that their forgetting is NOT a pass to do whatever with no consequnce (experiment, bad touch, etc). It follows that by Nixing all of "loop's party", treating them as seperate, in some way implies loop's memories are Lesser and what they did "doesn't matter as much", which is antithetical on account of being contradictory to however you take the stated theme. PLUS... The game and Paratext are clear that there is One Timeline. SAP is in the same contiguous space as ISAT-- it is effectively just that on the loop between SAP and ISAT that we the audience dont see-- loop ate that star and when the loop restarted there were two of them. for all intents and purposes one can intuit that Loop 0 of isat and SAPfrin's first loop are legitimately identical from sif's POV, as Loop does not reveal themselves until Loop 1. BUT YEAH GIANT SIDEBAR OVER. THIS WHOLE READ OF THE TEXT INFORMS MY THOUGHTS RE: ISALOOP AND RELATED CONCEPTS VERY GREATLY)

jesus christ i wrote a lot in the above um. sorry. i dont know if its intelligable. uh. good luck?

im also on team 'orrery book and sif's thoughts about it belie a real deep-seated brainworm' re: their response to a Cautionary Tale About How You Will Inevitably Kill Your Double seemingly being "Nah, we'd be besties."... like. i do think it is. funny. and not particularly Unbased. Given how they are. For siffrin and loop to specifically be compelled by how they are the same guy. And i think that there's a lot to be mined from 'Both of them are convinced that the party knowing who loop is would fuck up everything badly, so they're going to great lengths to conseal this' played in tandem with '... they are like. very much explicitly doing things together that are directly related to a feeling of shared ownership over siffrin's body and form & the fact they are The Same Guy'. like it is a hysterical setup to me and i think is only added to when you have to put Isabeau in the middle of this polycule also. With the few exceptions of times ive drawn stuff specifically hinging on characters Knowing Who Loop Is (which is like. all bonnie-centric stuff so far? i think?), i take a lot of care to try and make their exchanges Vague as if they are worried about being overheard or saying something that's too much of a smoking gun. But also it's really god damn funny to think about how concerning some of those things could sound the vaguer you make them. Remember that above all i live and die by The Bit. (... as do they.) ie basically because im powered by The Bit thats why i focus more on the sloop side because its like. actively Funnier and more drama filled. or at least presents oppertunities for such. i feel like on isabeaus side here its kinda frequently like

yknow ? (oh god my formatting is broken now) . i DO very much think it can become like. niceys. of course. i think they can just be normal fucking throuple eventually (though if i'm going that goddamn far into the future u may as well partycule the fuckers 2 me. by the time theyve solved whatever the fuck you call pre-reveal isiloops i think odile has gotten involved at the very least. but this is why i mostly keep myself to the realm of 'the mostly immediate post-game conflict' stuff since i think all these characters leave off the end of the game with such solid springboards for arcs set up (clearly intentionally) that the infinite realm of possibilities opens up too wide for me to be comfortable with.) anyway i keep thinking about the tragicomedy of isabeau finally finding an "in" to nurture a friendly bond with loop by comisserating and steeling themselves for changing again even though it feels like a betrayal of their previous actions/beliefs and how fucking funny the idea of 'loop reveal but theyre like 2 weeks into using she/they' is. just like you get all the way through the horrors of 'oh jesus christ the timeloop was even worse than we thought it was' but now '.. d. do you still . what pronouns do you want?' is tacked onto the end. Sorry did you hear something . must've been the wind. anyway . this ask is a fucking mess i hope its readable like at all . can you tell ive been brainscramblied for six weeks

TL;DR:

yeaghj you got it. its not like im doing anything revolutionary im just trying to stick as close as i can do what i percieve the characterisation is in canon & thus generally dont tie down any of my fanwork to specific post-canon-plot-concepts. its all just nebulous extrapolation set 'pretty close to the end of the game because i think these characters are going to grow and change extremely rapidly once the game is over given how they're all intentionally poised for character arcs when the game ends'. but also you should put isabeau in the worst social bind of all time with two of the most mentally unwell BPD OCD havers youve ever seen and let him try to figure out the balance of 'be gentle' and 'treat them like the almost-30-year-old adult they literally are' while he also balances his own set of entire life changes it'll be fine he'll be fine (someone should probably check on him)

#isat spoilers #2hats spoilers #isiloop #lucabytetalks #long post #sorry i took like 3 days to answer this you caught me just perfectly after i had freed myself from my shackles and cleaned up my #Desolate Mental State Bedroom. im normal now. <- guy who couldnt tell they werent normal during the proceedings but clearly wasnt #but now we are back in business babyyyyyy. and also sorry to every server im in for vanishing lol. ill be alive again after christmas #this also means i might god damn have art to post again. that transfem sifloop piece was legit a desperate hour-or-two doodle #which is why its so self indulgent lol . brain was turned the hell off and i let my id out. to which the id said draw blorbos as women. Now #next port of call is purrgatorio tho... i only got the mall one out because i was sick as a dog with cold LOL. unintuitive i know

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chimimon · 3 months ago

Text

No One Noticed

College AU - Shigaraki X f!Reader

Disclaimer! What you are about to read contains the following: graphic descriptions of mental illnesses (anxiety/panic attacks), alluded stalking (if you squint really really hard), suggestive material, mentions on a sharps/knifes (it is NOT what you think), biting <- :), & kissing ♡

& what I have to say is… This first ever aired fic was written in front of a live studio audience. All of the kicking, squealing, and giggling was recorded in real time during the creating of this fic. We also sincerely apologize as one member in the audience asked that the studio put the piece into chatgpt and ask it to quote, “make it gayer”. We unfortunately had them escorted off the premises.

October took you dazed and no one noticed.

The party stopped feeling like a party as you wandered within the rib cage of the house. At the heart of it some kid pumping the room full of bass so heavy, that you could feel it sink into your chest. It was too loud to hear yourself think while also being too loud to hold onto whatever was playing. All you could hold onto was that you needed to find a bathroom, fast before the anxiety unwinds itself in front of everything and everyone; but the bathrooms on the bottom floor were locked, the closet was occupied with people and everyone you got near kept asking you to raise your cup. Part of the crowd was too into beer pong, trying to pull you in as you tried to push your way out. You aimlessly fought your mind’s grasp on empty devastation while one of those faces reached out to pat your shoulder in excitement, loosely trying to bring you in. It made you sick.

Upstairs was where all the magic was found. Some arguments were happening at a volume that rivaled the music, but even louder than that was some love making. It was just your luck that bathroom would be locked too. With your fight wearing thin, you began wildly trying every door again. At the very end of the hall, past the balcony that overlooked the party and, you swam through another crowd of people within the houses throat. Finally, there was a room. You found your green light in a door that was a hair open. The drop in volume made it noticeably quieter, and you slipped in despite sudden convince.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered to the room. I’ll head out soon- I just need a moment you thought to yourself as you pushed the door closed, moving toward a wall.

There was no point in you showing up. There were no friends to see here, and certainly no invitation to the drunken festivities. This was just the house on campus. Touya was known for throwing parties and wasn’t like they stopped anyone who tried to enter. The soul center of these parties were to have good time. That’s all you came here for. A. Good. Time. It didn’t take long before cup in your hand looked off, before the faces stopped looking like acquaintances and more like strangers. The third sip was the charm that brought forward the sudden but still realization that you don’t know anyone at this party. Not really. So, why get drunk with strangers? Why did you come at all?

Lying on the floor with your eyes closed was the highlight of the night so far. The vibrations pushing through the carpeted floor kneaded your back, slowly calming you down. As the anxiety left it felt like your senses were coming back to life. You were finally making your way back to the moment. No more daze, no more paranoia, you could finally be someone lying on the bedroom floor of someone else’s house party.

“Woah,” a voice cut in, “Um.”

You shot up onto your knees petrified. When did someone come in?

“I-” you faltered and looked up.

It was too dark to make out the figure towering over you as your eyes hadn’t adjusted to glow of the night.

“I was just leaving.” you said despite doing nothing to stand.

The moonshine was finally enough to see with. Looking the man square in the face brought you to the notion that you not only (sorta) know him, but that you’ve done most of your partnered class work together. Shigaraki was cordial and quiet. He was pleasant to work with as it was always nice to work with someone competent on anything school related. Shigaraki would actually try to look into each bit of poetry, any excerpt assigned, and every novel you would finish in English. But thinking back on the last couple of months, the realization hit that you have never looked Shigaraki in the face, ever. And if you did it was with little to no need to take in his features.

It could have been whatever likely strong concoction was in your cup earlier, but the moon sat especially pretty on his features. Shigaraki’s dark circles looked a little deeper, the red of his eyes looked blood soaked within his powdery white mess of hair.

It was bewitching. Or maybe it was just the angle at which you sat.

Maybe it was time for you to get off your knees.

Shigaraki maintained eye contact as he dropped down to on his heels, “Did you need a hand?” He tilted his head with a lopsided grin.

“Oh,” you snapped out of it. “Yeah, no that’s-” not necessary, you were going to say. But Shigaraki wordlessly interrupted you as he took both of your hands into his before hoisting you up.

The sudden and full movement of the act pushed you into him. Within your loss of balance you could feel yourself slipping onto his shoulder, but he further pulled you in by the nape of your neck, “You okay?” He readjusted your position back to face you. “Is something up?” Shigaraki asked with wide eyes and furrowed brows. It kind of looked like he was concerned.

It had to be the moon.

You took a couple steps back, fidgeting with the sides of your top as you pulled it down. “I’m fine, just” you smiled, “I’m just a light weight.” you said soberly.

“I see.” Shigaraki raised an eyebrow in search of anything to be read in your face.

Within the bounds he found you, he decided against keeping you in. Shigaraki walked toward his door and waited for you with a reminder about a Shakespearean assignment that’s to be started Monday.

“Did you need my number or anything?” He kept trying to read you. “I know I can be bad with emails.” Shigaraki smiled.

“Are you?” You smiled with a knowing tone. “Just email me your number then.” You finally stepped out of his room.

An email was sent Sunday night saying that class would resume Wednesday because of some personal emergency the English professor was having, but that had clearly left your mind until you stood outside of the Education building Monday morning. Having already made it that far, (as far away as you could be from your dorm), you decided that it would not be time wasted. That time was going to be spent in the library alone, going over Lady Macbeths drive to insanity.

The building was dimly lit and warm with four of those old, green glass shaded lamps on every table. You headed to the only unoccupied table that was tucked away in a corner near some stand alone seating. With the gradually growing crowd in mind, you sat at the edge to leave room for inevitable overflow in the library. Your laptop was brought out but remained closed as you scanned over your borrowed copy of Macbeth atop it.

Just as expected, some students joined your table on the opposite side. They would type things out, wait, and then giggle to themselves with just enough space in-between that it hadn’t disrupted your train of thought. What did get under your skin was the person who seated themselves right next to you. With a couple chairs beside you and on the row across from you open, you wondered why anyone would have to seat themselves as close as possible to you. Moving your book closer to your face, you tried to ignore their presence, but it was your ruminating annoyance that kept you from comprehending anything Lady Macbeth was crying to her husband about.

“Did you get my email?” Shigarakis raspy and curious whisper was coated in sugar.

There was sharp inhale at recognition. “What email?” You tilted your head his direction with your eyes still on the page.

He remained quiet, waiting for you to go on.

“Ah, well no-” you got the hint. “I’ve been here for nearly an hour without opening my laptop.” You continued while closing your book. “Or my phone for that matter.” You finally faced him.

Shigaraki’s elbow was sprawled out on the surface, cupping his face while drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. He was lazily watching you meet his gaze. In this light Shigaraki looked blurry, his dark circles from before were cancelled out by the low, orange light. His dull, and dry skin were similarly muted, but in a noticeably different way than Shigaraki had looked under moonlight of his bedroom. It was that comparison and thought which straightened your shoulders and neck. The thought that last time you spoke to him was on your knees in his room. A thought he held onto, that clearly didn’t bother him.

“No need to get stiff,” he teased. “I had just asked if you wanted to meet up here since class was cancelled.”

Shiagraki tore away his gaze as he dove into his backpack, grabbing his copy of Macbeth and a notebook. He began to go over his notes which included highlighted, and annotated passages in his book, often asking if you would like to copy anything down. He was patient as you looked through and noted his findings and took whatever stuck out to you. Then he asked to look over your own notes. You handed the laptop over his way, now self-conscious about your eloquence on screen. He complimented your findings, seeming drawn to the washing of Lady Macbeths hands and how it was married to her husband's growing confidence in murder.

Shigaraki’s voice was smoothing itself out as the conversation continued, the sugar coating being reduced to a powder. His whispers grew softer as you two went back in forth in studious banter. Every few pages his voice would get quieter, and every few pages you kept having to lean in. With the lack of distance, you felt yourself melting into his scent of sweet lavender. How many inches would it take for your temple to touch his shoulder? Your attention moved from Macbeth to him. It was hard to recall when you last heard him say anything but for the small moment you both had been quiet, you realized that Shigaraki’s attention had been placed on your mouth; and you wanted to ask for how long he had been staring. An even better the question appeared in your mind.

How much further would I need to lean in for our lips to meet?

A muffled buzz emitted from his bag, snapping you both into your starting positions. He pulled out his phone and rolled his eyes. “Sorry to cut this short.” He groaned.

Shigaraki quickly hit enter a couple times, tapped a bit on the keypad and finally slid the laptop back to you. He hurried off before you could properly part ways, making you feel a little crazy about the moment you both seemed to share; but just as you were coming out of this sickly soft spell casted by the library, you were curious to see what he had left for you at the bottom of your notes.

It was two words, followed by his number.

Shigaraki was too kind. The moment you texted him, asking if you could call about class and everything you might’ve missed, he answered without a minute to spare, seeming very prepared to get you caught up.

“I really appreciate you going through all of that with me.” You tried to sound as thankful as one could between light coughing fits and pure exhaustion.

A head cold kept you from going to two English classes in a row, a six days after meeting him in the library. The anxiety of missing a weeks' worth of information was the only thing that pushed you to finally text him. You put it off after feeling silly over the blatant, longing desire you let bleed from your eyes before he left from the library. A desire that he noticed but returned as hunger.

The conversation died as Shigaraki wrapped up six hours of class time in two. “I don’t want to keep you on the phone any longer,” you lied.

“It’s not like you’re not interrupting anything. Besides,” you could hear the air leave his chest as he plopped onto his bed. “This is keeping me from having to be with Touya, and his hellions.” He said matter of fact-ly.

“So,” he dragged out. “About the party-”

“Are you still on the phone with that sick chick, Shiggy?” Touya’s voice cut in the background of the call, and you thanked every lucky star ever placed in your sky.

“Sick chick has a name, and yeah, why?” Shigaraki had no issue saying into the call.

“Because I’m fucking bored.” Touya whined

“Not my problem.”

“Yeah, it is. Toga wants to do my nails because Spinner doesn’t want her to do his, so I let her know I would grab you to so she can do your nails.”

“What does me having my nails done have to do with you being bored?” You could hear him shuffle off his bed, Touya's voice getting louder as Shigaraki approached him.

They continued their effortlessly, snippy banter which pulled a dry and weak laugh from you. Shigaraki smiled, “Oh?” He said with sarcasm. “So this is funny?”

It could have been the fever but his question and syrupy tone gave you butterflies. If you weren’t already in bed, you were sure you would have had to sit on the floor. “Yes sir, it is.” You hummed. “Well, just a little bit, Shiggy.” You bit your knuckle after quietly singing his nickname.

Shigaraki was blatantly ignoring Touya’s pestering, and had started talking over him. “And now I’m Shiggy?”

You could hear his door slam, and you froze.

“I’m kidding,” he sung back. “You can call me that.” He said with warmth.

“Can I?” You grinned at your pillow.

“Yes ma’am.” He hummed knowingly.

“Shigaraki,” you said pouting at his tone.

“What happened to Shiggy?” He teased some more, enjoying your weak whining from the other side of the call. “Kidding, but back to what I was saying.” His voice coolly transitioned back to normal.

The party, his room, and the dizzy feeling that memory brought.

“About texting?” You reached for the wheel of the conversation.

“No- Well,” Shigaraki said thoughtfully. “Yeah actually, why didn’t you text me sooner?” He let you steer.

It may not be a better of direction of conversation but you carried on anyway. “I just,” you smiled at your pillow. “It just seemed that you were doing emails better than you gave yourself credit for.”

“You got me there,” he gave up with an airy laugh.

“So,” you flipped onto your stomach. “Why do they get to call you Shiggy, Shiggy?”

“I never said you couldn’t. Besides, it sounds better when you say it.” He moved the mic closer to his mouth. “Maybe you could try saying my first name.” The gravel in his tone tickled your ears.

“Ahm,” you huffed, embarrassed at how casually he’d suggest that. “Would you prefer that?” You acted innocent.

“I don’t know yet,” he purred, “I haven’t heard you say it.”

Shigaraki had been back in bed, on his side as he spoke to you facing the bedroom door. You excused yourself to grab some water as in as a strong coughing fit occurred. As you stepped away from the phone, he became enamored with the spot you sat in. No, that wasn’t right. You were kneeling when he found you. Recreation pulled him off bed to back where he stood when he found you at the party. “Pretty thing,” he whispered to the spot on the floor.

“Sorry?” you can back, hearing only the second word.

“Nothing,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Ah,” He dryly laughed out. “Did you want to try and do something this weekend?”

You shyly laughed and it made him falter. “It’s fine if -” He stretched away the tension, “I’m sure you’ll need more time to rest.“

“No!” You answered too quickly. “I mean, I think I’m at the tail end of this head cold.” A warmth beyond fever reached your neck, shoulders, and ears. “What does something mean anyway?”

“It can mean food, or it can mean the library. We can talk about our newly assigned excerpt in Macbeth.” He was testing the waters.

“Oh,” you said aloud. “Okay yeah, maybe a cafe then, so we can really talk.”

“What does “oh” mean?” Shigaraki felt pleased to hear the disappointment in your voice.

“Nothing. I just thought,” you stalled. “I just think that’d be nice.” You felt whiplashed.

“I see.” He sat back on his ankles again, “You can come to my place after if you’d like. We can work on Macbeth and get something after.”

“Don’t trick me with an innocent invitation to study in your room.” You mocked.

“Did I say anything about you coming up to my room?” Again? He kept from saying.

“I think the café is just fine, Shigaraki.”

He frowned at the sound of his last name. “Bring your laptop then. Coffees on me.” He sighed.

On Friday, English was fizzling out. You were on act 4 of Macbeth, and as the Professor read the witches warning you were becoming deaf. The room grew large and it felt like she, the professor, was staring at you. It felt like Shigaraki was too.

It was more than a feeling, because they both were, and your professor was headed your way.

“Hun,” she warmly placed her hand on your shoulder. “You’re good to step out if you need a minute, okay?” She whispered as not to draw any more attention than she already had.

Before you knew it, tears began to run down your cheeks, only noticing as you saw them land on the table. For the small moment you looked forward you could see Shigaraki completely turned to you, from behind the professor, with wide eyes. You avoided making eye contact with either of them as your eyes darted to your bag, packing up to leave. Wordlessly you made your way from the second row of seats, across the classroom and out the door.

The clock above the double door exit read 9:47, it wasn’t even 10 in the morning before you fell apart. You couldn’t get your heart rate down. You couldn’t stop the tears. You couldn’t feel the tips of your fingers and your lips were going numb. This terror was stronger than the one at the party and it would not wait for solitude before taking hold.

It was like striking gold when you spotted a single restroom. With cold water, you splashed your face before warming the tap to get back any feeling in your fingertips. As soon as your body could register the water was in fact not warm, but scalding hot, you began to calm down. The heat sunk into your skin like ice even with the water cold again. The bright red, throbbing irritation in your hands was the only thing you could face. The person in the mirror looked pathetic and facing them meant having to accept their apology.

The party was the first time it had ever felt that horrible, but it apparently was not going to be the last.

The restroom wall’s started closing in as you tried to catch your breathe, the hyperventilating only shrunk it further. Like a knife, a soft but rapid vibration cut through your panic.

You answered the incoming call without looking and without greeting.

“What happened?”

“Nothing.” You said lowly. “It was nothing,” You tried to convince yourself.

“Where are you?”

“No where.” The response was automatic and cold.

“No,” Shigaraki cut in.

He called without a second thought and didn’t think about what he was going to say past those first two questions. “I mean, God. How about I take you somewhere?” Shigaraki groaned at how stupid that suggestion was.

You shook your head. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not?” He sounded annoyed. He was, with you and himself.

“I said I’m fine.” You snipped.

Shigaraki groaned and it made you feel guilty for being difficult. “I’m going to be outside the main office.” You gave in.

“Okay.” With that, Shigaraki hung up before he could say anything stupid, and you weren’t sure if you should wait for him.

The front facing camera showed just apparent it was that you had been crying; with swollen lips and doe-like wet eye lashes. Even patting your eyes dry proved to be a painfully raw task.

The dorm, you did not want to go back to your dorm. You were second guessing Shigaraki but knew no one was going to be there. You didn’t have any roommates and you didn’t talk to anyone on your hall. Even if you settled for cheaper student housing, going back to a roommate looking and feeling the way you do was not an option.

The morning autumn air bit your nose as you idly stood around. Every minute felt like ten and it made you desperate to figure out where to go. Staying in place, unsure if you were waiting on anyone made you tear up again like a lost little kid. You found yourself starting at your reflection again on the black screen.

It was embarrassing to think that he looked so concerned and you wouldn’t be able to tell him how to fix it.

The screen woke up, and before the phone could be unlocked, you saw the stack of missed calls from him. Six of them.

You unlocked your phone to stare his contact information, realizing that you hadn’t reached out to him for anything besides school work since you were ill. With that in mind, it made you insecure about whether you should still see him this weekend.

Another few minutes passed as you talked yourself to keep a look out for Shigaraki. You backed up against the main office and slid down onto the floor, tucking your knees up to your chest. Before you returned to scrolling, you scanned upward one more time only to let yourself down. You figured if you were not waiting for anyone, you were going to at least try and catch your breath.

Meanwhile, Shigaraki had called Toga to ask where she took his car.

“I was grabbing us both lunch,” she said. “I got out of class early, and thought that my favorite roomie wanted a little something to eat.” Toga exclaimed, clearly proud of herself.

“I need to pick someone up. And when did you even take my keys?” He patted his pockets with furrowed brows and before settling to scratch his neck. “Never fucking mind, are you close.”

“Hey, lose the tone. I got you food so be nice!”

“Are you close?” He said with the tone in tact.

“Yes~uh! Jerk!” As soon as she hung up, he could hear his tires swerve into the parking lot a block away from where he wanted to be.

“Out of the driver's seat.” He said to her through the window. “Since I’m picking someone up you gotta get in the back.”

“Shouldn’t I just stay up here and drive you two?” Toga shimmied her eyebrows.

“No. Because you answered the phone while driving and I’m gonna get sick with you behind the wheel.”

“I’m doing better.” she unbuckled her belt, folding her arms.

“I won’t let you do my nails.” he threatened.

Toga put it in park and dove into the back seat, folding her arms, huffing, and puffing. “I won’t let you do my nails,” she mocked his low tone.

“And be quiet and when I get her-“

“Her?!” She interrupted with excitement. “Can I do her nails instead?”

“Yeah,” she squealed despite his lack of enthusiasm. “But that’s only if you get out and walk home.” She hit the back of his seat.

“You’re no fun, Shiggy.”

As you pretended to be doing something important on your phone, a text dropped down saying “here.”

You stood up to look around, seeing that a crowd of students were bleeding into different directions but not one of those people was Shigaraki. Another text appeared. “Main office parking lot.”

A car, you thought. You didn’t think he would have a car and somehow that was felt intimidating in your overthoughtful state, but there it was. In front of the main office, behind the faculties parked cars, was a navy blue car that looked gray under all the dirt. Approaching the passenger door, you noticed it was slightly open with Shigaraki leaning over to push it open further. As you climbed into the passenger seat you caught sight of the small blonde in back, and the scent of burgers as you sat down.

Shigaraki drove off as soon as you closed the door, ensuring you wouldn’t back out when you saw his roommate. “Sorry. She had my car.” His used his chin to motion back as turned onto the main road.

“Hi!” She was leaning on middle console, putting her hand out to shake yours. “I’m Toga Himiko.”

You thoughtlessly took her hand and introduced yourself. Her amber eye and fang filled smile was meant to be warm, but returning the smile felt unnatural. As soon as your hands connected, she pulled you in closer to her to examine your nails. Shigaraki heard the hitch in your breath as you adjusted yourself to face her more.

“Toga.”

“What?” She was using both her hands to analyze your nail beds and palms. Muttering something about them being soft.

“She’s not a doll.”

“She’s as cute as one.” she dragged out that last word.

“But that’s a terrible excuse?”

You turned to face him, unsure if the heat in your face was from her compliment or him not denying it. Shigaraki shot an insecure smile at you before turning back to face Toga at the red light.

“Let go of her hand.” He snapped.

“Did you want me to do your nails?” She ignored him and beamed at you.

“I said let go,” he grabbed your wrist and pulled it from Toga's grasp, turning back to face what was still a red light.

“Don’t be a brute.” She pushed herself into her seat. “I was being gentle.” She whispered to herself.

“You were being persistent.” He said loud enough only you could hear. “I’m sorry she’s just- like that I guess.” She kicked his seat, and he rolled his eyes.

You coughed to suppress nervous laughter. The light turned green, and you turned to stare out the window, wiping the whole scene from your mind.

“We’re not far, we’ll be home soon.” Shigaraki shot a dirty look at Toga in the rear view as he turned into the block.

“To your house?”

Toga theatrically gasped. “You didn’t even tell her where you were taking her? You slut.”

“Shit,” he hadn’t realize that he completely skipped over that. “I can turn around, I’ll just take you home.”

No- “It’s fine,” your voice rode up. “It’s really okay.”

Shigaraki nodded although didn’t believe you.

The sidewalk looked funny from the passenger window. If you closed your eyes, you could imagine yourself walking up the driveway as Shigaraki pulled in.

Toga was the first out of the car, and into the house. Taking the smell of fast food with her, she placed one bag on the counter and kept the other to take to her room. “You’re welcome. It’s a combo, you dick.” She made a face and stormed off. “If I knew you had a friend, I would’ve bought an extra meal!” Toga’s voice faded as she headed down the hallway. “It’s nice to meet you by the way, he’s a dick though so… sorry!” and her door shut.

Shigaraki shook his head, and spun around his keys. “I can still take you home.”

“I don’t want to be alone right now.” You nearly interrupted him.

He nodded without pressing further, dropping his keys and taking his bag of food off the counter. “Hungry?”

When you looked up, he was studying you the same why he did that night. You watched his eyes scan your face, and neck.

“I can take the fries.” You figured.

Anxiety brought in nervousness before dissipating. Being back into that house was not making anything better, but it was not making anything worse, you were simply surrendering to the structure. It was too clean inside; the staircase was not how you remembered it to be, and the balcony looked naked without bodies peering over. The comparison was taking you out of the noonday sun, and placing under the midnight moon, it was like you could feel its heart beating again.

Shigaraki noticed you weren’t focused on anything you had been looking at, you still looked lost. He started knocking on the wall a couple times to get your attention and when that didn’t work he decided to take your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over yours. “Are you okay if we head into my room?”

Your eyes trailed down at your intertwined fingers and then back up at him.

“You can say no.” He was hoping you wouldn’t, but he meant it.

You nodded with one side of your mouth curled.

“We can head to the living room.”

You thought about it, looking down into the unfamiliar space before shaking your head. “No actually.” One side of your mouth curled up. “I want to go to your room, Shigaraki.” The power in your voice died as you said his name.

He raised his brows at your shy tone. “Well,” the door opened and he let go of your hand, “After you.”

Without a second thought you reached for his hand, then you dropped his hand after catching his index and middle finger.

“Ah,” you shyly laughed. “Sorry I wasn’t thinking.”

Shigaraki snorted as he closed the door behind you and walked over to his desk.

You were melting into his room again, finding familiarity in the air as you made your way to sit on his bed. “Am I okay right here?”

“You’re perfectly fine there.” He booted up his PC, grinning at the screen.

The wall facing the foot of his bed displayed sizable TV on a mount with pictures and posters of movies and illustrated characters surrounding it. Below that stood a pale wooden entertainment center. On the surface were a couple figures of women in burlesque lingerie, and a game console. In the shelves were comics and even more figures in poses to match some of the comic covers. As you looked around the rest of the room there were floating shelves beside his desk with more comics, thin magazine backings and novels in-between. The whole room smelled of him, of a sweet lavender, something woody and human. Especially his bedding.

Curling in on your side, you turned to face the wall opposite of Shigaraki. Upon first glance it looked empty, but in the center was a single frame with a dry preserved, needled moth inside. The longer you stared at the trapped insect, the more it looked like it was shrinking, or like the blank space around it was becoming larger.

You knew what was coming and quickly dropped your gaze to the sheets. They were light grey, his pillows were white, and the mattress was firm. The fight with anxiety was getting easier, finally heading down hill as you focused on feeling the way his sheets hugged your body. Everything looked chaotically organized when you closed your eyes, pushing you nerves to the ground as you recalled what you saw. A clean, lived in mess with a hurriedly made bed to match.

With open eyes, your stare hit the short haired carpet, and for a moment it didn’t mean anything.

Until suddenly it did.

The nerves jumped into action, lunging at your gut. Dodging it was to frantically shove the memory in a paper box, and sealing it shut with painter's tape. The hope that it would hold was easier to stomach as you rolled over to face Shigaraki, who has been caught watching you from the corner of his eye.

“How’s my bed?” he paused whatever he was doing, moving his headphones off his ears and around his neck. Facing you, he leaned his arms forward onto his thighs. “You haven't taken your fries yet.”

Shigaraki was close. “I guess I’m not as hungry as I thought I was.” you said self-consciously. With your hands you pushed yourself back and moved higher up the bed, settling once you were against the headboard.

“But how are you feeling?” His voice gave concern that his face lacked.

“Better.”

Shigaraki leaned back, placing his headphones on his desk, and moved to sit beside you. Before he got comfortable, he waited for your approval. You shimmied away and made room for him to scoot in, propping a knee up to your chest. You leaned in and watched as he laid on his side, propping his head up with his elbow.

“Can I ask you something?” he said to your hip, pulling his gaze to your neck. It felt like Shigaraki was inching near the box.

“That depends,” you said honestly, watching as his eyes found yours. “Is this about tomorrow?”

“Hmm?” Shigaraki 's attention fell again as he thought. “Oh, no, but I might touch on that later.”

“Did you forget about tomorrow?” You feigned offense, trying to get him away from that night.

“Well,” he rolled his eyes. “When you look as empty and lost as you have today, everything else becomes a blur.” He said obviously.

It was supposed to be sweet, you thought, but it didn’t land. Without knowing what to say you asked what he wanted to know. Shigaraki was taken aback by your gloss over his concern and pulled out a box cutter to test the water.

“So,” he pointed to the door and drew a line from there to the floor. “What was that about?”

You were feeling brave and followed the line he made with slight exaggeration. “What was what?”

“The party?” His focus sharpened. “You know. The one that happened in this house.”

“Oh! That party.”

“Yeah, that one.”

The contemplative face he made wasn’t enough to draw out an explanation so you shrugged as you relaxed down into the bed.

Shigaraki got up from his side to move onto you. One hand planted beside your hip, and the rested in the space between your legs. “I think you know what I’m talking about,” He teased.

“Oh,” he said coyly, watching your eyes on the hand between your legs as he readjusted it at your other side. “My bad.”

Shigaraki watched the tension that formed with him a leg shy of being between yours. He held you in place as the painter's tape curled itself back, that knee was a hair away from touching you as his hands made way to the sides of your neck

“Why were you in my room?” His head hung as he stalked your answer.

The lavender was intoxicating, creating a fog that carefully encircled you. The daylight through the blinds painted strips of shadow on his face and shoulders. One line of the noonday sun landed on his eyes and it was like being hypnotized. They glowed like a warning, already catching fire in the warmth he emitted. It drew you in, and you were shamelessly staring at his mouth again.

“Ah, ah-uh. No,” He recoiled. “Answers first.”

You bit your tongue in light of being teased. Oh, how it both bothered and excited you. “Shigaraki, I told you I can't handle my ale.”

“I feel like that’s not it,” he raised a brow and himself from you. “I know that’s not it. You seemed sober and scared even with my warmest grin.” The tone in his voice was no longer playful as the fire went out.

Shigaraki moved off of you, threatening to shift off the bed. The sudden shift in scene casted something over you. You brought the box to him as you reached for his arm, landing on the hem of his sleeve. “I just needed a place to hide.” You opened up.

Honesty looked small in comparison to box it was thrown in.

“I don’t know what came over me, Shigaraki.” Verbal acknowledgment felt embarrassing, but not as much as holding onto his sleeve did; so you finally let go.

Shigaraki made his way back onto the bed, stiff as you sat back with your legs in w-position. “Why hide?” He said after a beat. “Was it from someone? Or, actually- who brought you?” his demeanor softened.

“No,” You shook your head. “No one. And, and I don’t know why.” You thought about how to word it, but looking at him made it hard to think so you turned you attention to the cluttered wall.

“Lately, I just can’t figure it out. It’s like my body is fine, everything is cool, and normal. But then my mind makes my heart race and my stomach drop like something bad is happening. Or more like something is about to happen. Sometimes it’s a slow build, and I can feel that I’m off but lately it’s like someone’s flipping every switch at once.”

With the hope that you don’t sound silly, you also hoped that sharing this might help you feel seen, and Shigaraki seemed like he was listening. When you faced him in-between thought, his eyes were planted on his hands as he hummed in observation.

To him, it didn’t take a genius to put two and two together. What happened in English reflected what happened before he caught you in his room. Shigaraki turned back to you, patiently waiting for you to continue.

“So far, it has started with me not hearing what people are saying, or,” Recalling the events threw you onto the fine line of retelling and reliving, making you stammer. “Or I have trouble recognizing faces.” Your voice shrank.

Shigaraki watched as you swallowed something down and before you could turn away again, he caught your chin with his thumb and index finger. “Go on.” he tilted his head and let go.

“It traveled to the tips of my fingers, and today, I couldn’t feel my lips.” You said thoughtful of his distance again.

Actually, it wasn’t distance, it was closeness with him.

At that time, Shigaraki didn’t actually know what to make of your position when he found you on the floor. He had grown used to finding at least two people in his room. Normally they were in his bed, partially clothed, and too in the moment to snap out of their hot and drunk state. Because of that, it became rare that his door would be left unlocked on the weekends he joined the party, or that he would leave his room at all on the nights he stayed in. Catching you in his space was a weird mix of worry and pleasant surprise.

Well, catch is not the right word.

What Shigaraki had caught was glimpse of you from the balcony and wasn’t sure if he wanted to approach you or spend the night watching you. Approaching you meant meeting whoever brought you to the party, and even thinking about that felt like a chore. What he also didn’t want was to find you wrapped around someone else’s arm. Shigaraki had his eye on you for a while and at first was not planning on it moving past distant admiration, but as time in class passed, the more you two talked, and the more you two talked he found himself reading your body language in toothsome passages. Then everything about you began to tempt him. He would look for reasons to be near you, just see you and keep reading. So, the one time he looked up from the page was the one time you sat on a platter, staring up at him as you did now.

Mixing in what you shared, he was trying to play the scenario in his head, switching his point of view. He was realizing that hadn’t seen you speak to anyone. No one seemed to be looking for you in living room, or trying to stop you for idle conversation; you simply showed up alone and stayed that way. Shigaraki had thought that you maybe got bored of whatever was happening in the kitchen, and couldn’t be bothered to watch beer pong, so when he lost sight of you, he headed to the restroom. He also knew that he had felt something like that before, the panic, but he couldn’t put a finger on when or even how often that might have been.

But then he asked himself, if he had just approached you, would you have just asked to go into his room? Could he have at least kept you company?

“Shigaraki?” The question was asked with you head tilted and up. You leaned on your hands as you got closer to him.

The closing space and locked in eyes was tugging on a loose string.

“I-” he breathed. Can I kiss you? He thought. “Or would that be inappropriate?”

“Would what be?” Your brows stitched themselves together.

Shigaraki shoved impulse aside and questioned his method of drawing out answers. “God,” he said to himself.

“What?” You couldn’t tell whether to be bothered or confused. “God, what?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. “It’s not anything you said.”

“Then what is it?”

“Nothing.” A thin smile said.

“Oh, come on.” you quietly groaned. “I have to be honest and you don’t?” You said semi-playful disbelief.

Shigaraki rolled his eyes as he began to turn away, and you decided to play the same card he did, taking his chin with your thumb and pointer. In dragging his attention back, you saw his eyes narrow like he was stalking again and that sharp edge forced you to let go.

"I mean,” You sat up onto your heels. “I guess I am the guest in your room. Again.” You waited to see what he would say, and when nothing came out you sighed. “I’m sorry for intruding when I was last here.”

“Don’t be.”

“But I am. Things would be, I don’t know, better if I just didn’t hide here in the first place.”

“It’s fine.” Shigaraki didn’t really know what he wanted, but he didn’t to make you regret coming to his room a second time. You probably already did.

“I think I'm going to, uh,” you stuck out a knee to slide off his bed. “I think I should go.”

“Let me drive you.” He sat up.

“No, I can walk. I did last time. Besides it’s only like two.” You weakly smiled. “So, thank you for listening, Shiggy.”

No wait.

Your back was flat on his bed before Shigaraki could register his own movement; he was looming over you, between your legs with his hands clasped around your wrists. Shigaraki studied the surprise in your eyes as it transform into something half lidded and dreamy.

“Tomura?”

That had torn the string. Whatever tied him down in self-discipline had snapped as the sound of his first name thinly spilled out.

His right hand let go of your wrist and darted to the base of your head as his lips met yours with eager force. You kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm, angling your head to let him sink in deeper. Tomura’s lips were dry, but you could taste some sort-of vanilla balm as you caught his lower lip between your teeth. Wordlessly you asked him to let you in while your free hand snaked up to cup his jaw, drawing from him a desperate whine as he opened his mouth for your entry.

With his right hand again, he dragged his fingers down to pull your waist into his, his left hand pulling your wrist to the side of your head. As your tongue snaked into his mouth, his thumb opened your palm to then intertwine with all of his fingers. Tomura held onto your tongue as he pulled away from soft and messy kisses.

“God, you’re sweet.” he trembled downward.

With closed eyes you focused on the feeling of everything soft and messy was peppered onto your cheek and chin. Then Tomura licked the contour of your jaw to the bottom of your ear. He bit your ear lobe and laughed into shell-shaped part of it when you whimpered.

“You’re so soft too.” His hot breathing trailing down your neck. “You even sound soft.”

He played with the hem of your shirt, “May I?”

You nodded and watched as he hands slipped down latching onto your hips. The attention was embarrassing as he took in your tummy. Leaning in and trailing kisses toward your waistband before sinking his teeth into your hip.

“Tomura!” You winced, your hips raising in pain.

You gasped when he forced your hips back down.

“I’m sorry.” He feigned worry.

You bit your lip as his tongue that outlined the marks of his teeth before planting a kiss at the center. The tender feeling grabbed your attention.

“Does that feel better?”

Tomura looked like a hungry animal leering at you through his lashes. He was humming up your waist and didn’t waste a second to resume the trail of marks he was going to leave.

Something tickled. Tomura was just about to slip your shirt up your chest before loud knocking snapped you both out of the moment. “Damn it.” he hissed just under your breast, placing one last kiss before getting off the bed.

As Tomura opened the door Toga looked ready to rip him a new one. “Do you even know what time it is?”

“Apparently not.”

“Check your phone!” She snapped at him, following after Tomura as he made it to his desk. “And you better be behaving.” She said to the back of his head.

Toga then turned to you. “Is he being good to you?”

You sheepishly smiled. “So far.”

“Good. I’m glad.” She smiled warmly, before making a face at the back of his head. “He barely knows how to act so I’m actually kinda surprised.”

“I am right here, Toga.”

“Yeah, so hurry up!”

Tomura scrunched his nose before turning to her. “That was today-”

“Today? Yeah exactly, how else am I supposed to get my own car if no one it gonna take me to check it out?”

“Why didn’t you ask Spinner?”

“How often do you see him on his phone?”

“And Touya?” He retorted.

“Was he really gonna take me, Shiggy?”

Tomura knew Touya didn’t do anything unless it would immediately benefit him and Spinner had his own weird quirks so he got why Toga looked to him.

He looked sad in his own pouty way, and sighed, “Go on.” Tomura pushed forward both his hands.

Toga was jumping with glee as he wiggled his fingers and at first you couldn’t tell what was going on until Tomura gave her the green light to pick whatever color she wanted. As soon as he said that Toga bolted out of the room to grab anything (and everything) she needed to do his nails and as soon she was out, Tomura hopped back onto the bed to kiss you ravenously before his roommate returned.

Toga walked in right as he hopped, but before you could lean back again. Slowly blinking, Toga ignored it and grinned at you, presenting a small selection of polish at the foot of the bed.

“I think you should pick.” She giggled.

“Hmm,” You crawled toward her, shifting around until you were comfortable to carefully examine each color. “What do you think, Tomura?”

Toga’s brows raised when you said his first name, intently staring at him who flashed a modest smile.

“I think the clear one is good.”

“I think so too.” You in spite of having three colors in your hand. “We can put that on top. Toga,” You beamed her way. “Are you comfortable with designs?”

They were facing each other, sitting crisscross on the floor as you watched from the bed. Toga was in her element as she painted each nail but Tomura kept sighing as she alternated between the three colors. “I’m almost done. I just have to do a top coat after this.” She sang after dipping a thin brush into the black polish.

Toga instructed Tomura to mimic her hand fanning in order for polish dry faster, but she warned him it wouldn’t be dry for at least 15 minutes.

“I swear” Toga stood up with her thing. “If you mess with the design or try to wipe the paint off, the universe will tell me and I will break down this door.”

“Got it, girl.” Tomura groaned while unenthusiastically wiggling his freshly painted nails at her.

As soon as Toga left you joined him on the ground, picking up his hand to look at Toga’s work. “She did a really nice job.” you said in awe. “I might have her come back to do my nails too.”

“Don’t call her back up here, please.” Tomura dropped his head before bringing you forward to peck you. “She actually does not need to come back up here.” He said with disdain.

You laughed but returned to looking at his hands. “I think my choice in colors worked out well.”

“Yeah, well” He flipped his wrist to catch yours, pulling you into his lap. “I’d like you pick where we left off.”

Before you could jokingly bring up his nails, Tomura dipped his head into your neck.