#this seems like a half assed explanation but it’s interesting

[codnasties]

bull rider!ghost 👻

having an uni bestie that's from a small rural town as someone who was born and raised in a city has it's perks, like getting to experience things you had never experienced before. and i'm talking about going to a rodeo.

crowd roaring as a new rider sat on an angry bull and got tossed into the air as the animal bucked fiercely. the first few wild dudes that you had seen were interesting. you know, the attraction of something new that you had never really seen before. but after a handful of them it started getting a bit boring, but your friend was cheering on so loudly and seemingly enjoying that so much it would probably be rude to tell them that you weren't having so much fun.

trying to find some kind of entertainment, you told your friend you were going to go and get a drink, because at this moment a beer looked like it would bring you some semblance of entertainment.

but you were wrong, because as you make your way back to the rodeo grounds, your eye caught a rider that was different. he had a commanding and charming aura to him, something that impelled you to look at him. well, maybe it was more that just the way he carried himself.

it was the way those jeans seemed to hug those thick thighs of his, how, with the help of the chaps he was wearing, they left little to imagination, giving you a perfect view of his ass. and oh what an ass! and his shirt... the way his strong and built muscle seemed to flex and ripple with each movement that he made.

when you finally made it back to where your friend was sitting - which took you longer than the way to the bar because of adoring such a man -, this mysterious dude was now on the chute, lowering himself onto one hell of an angry bull.

while the rest of the riders had caught your eye, there was nothing but anticipation inside of you to see him try to tame that ton and a half bull. and he did not disappoint, the beast beneath him bucking trying to get him of.

it wasn't just the way he has holding on or how long those eight seconds seemed to last when it was him on the arena. it was the way his hips swayed trying to follow the bulls movements, the way the bicep of the arm he was using to hold on became impossibly bigger with the tension, the veins that were proptinding on the hand he had up in the air, the glimpse of tattoos on his forearm as the sleeve of his shirt got pulled by his muscles.

before you ever realised, the buzzer had sounded, indicating that the time necessary was over and that he could now get off the bull. and when he did, you became even more intrigued by him and how fucking tall he looked and how he, amazingly, had managed to keep the hat he was wearing on his head the whole time.

seeing how entranced you were by this one specific rider, your friend immediately gave you that information that you were unknowingly desperate to know. "his name is simon riley, but they call him ghost"

"ghost?", you asked them back.

"yup, because of the way he rides, breaks records and then fucking vanishes. the public doesn't really know much about him or his personal life. and it's also a know fact that is hard to even get to meet him and talk to him" they explained. "oh, an also he ghost every single person that he fucks'

"hmm interesting", you hummed, starting to get into your head that as much as this 'ghost' seemed attractive and got you horny just from looking at him, he was quite unreachable and maybe a bit of an asshole.

"yeah, the man's a beast at what he does", they exclaimed, cutting your thought process.

"i can see, you don't need me to tell me twice", you uttered back.

"and he's actually a cousin of mine! let me introduce you to him'" they gave you further explanation.

you couldn't help the immediate 'oh' that left you. because you actually had a chance to talk to this man an maybe, maybe try to cham your way into those tight jeans of his. because an asshole has his charm, you know?

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

hope y'all enjoyed that, i just pulled this out of my pussy.

no smut just pure hornyness. anyways, save a horse ride a cowboy or sum

[starlight-vee]

TW: Body checking, insecurity

Yea I love chubby Alejandro you guys!!!

(He is not okay)

[pennjammin]

run, rabbit, run

JJK HALLOWEEN! nanamixreader

summary ❥ you babysit for the wealthy single dad who lives across the street. it’s the end of october and his halloween party is the talk of the neighborhood. you’re not invited because the kids are out of town, but you decide to pop up on him anyway, and he shows you just how badly he’s been dying to get you alone without the children.

CONTENT: age gap, 86’d sorcery, dilf!nanami, toys, smut, alcohol, dom!nanami, cunnilingus, afab!reader, fluff, friends to lovers kinda, bossxworker, aftercare, slowwwww burn, reader wears animal ears during sex, breeding kink, spit kink, masochism.

word count. 10k

soundtrack 💿: eating - madeintyo

p.s. there’s a joke in here involving the color of 🐱; i know everyone’s is not the same color so , fill in the blank for the color that fits yours if u have one LOL

✩

You give your ass a good shake.

You’re making sure the long, fluffy tail poking out of your blue shorts isn’t going to fall out. It doesn’t.

You’re dressed as a fox, but not just any fox. A fox cop. You have on a short blue collared top, matching shorts, and of course you’d be no real cop without your utility belt housing fake handcuffs and a plastic baton. To top it all off, you’re wearing fuzzy fox ears on your head, and sheer tights to cover your legs.

You nod in the mirror, satisfied. But the real test, to you, is if Mr. Nanami will like it just as much.

Mr. Nanami is your employer, but more importantly, your neighbor. You watch his two young children five days a week; sometimes even overnight when he has a particularly busy work day. You consider yourself close with them, but your feelings about Nanami are a little deeper than that.

You’d seen him the first time a little under a year ago, when he’d been out on an early morning jog. From then, on you’d become disgustingly obsessed ever since.

Your schoolgirl pining only gets worse every time you see him, and recently you've even gone as far as trying to shamelessly flirt - but he seems to have absolutely no idea. That is the less painful explanation, the other being that he’s just not interested.

But you’re planning to see if you can get that to change tonight. You always dress sensible in front of his children; this will be the first time he's seeing so much skin. It has to work, right?

Tonight, Nanami is throwing the party of the century. He has house workers of all kinds who serve towers of food and delicious mixed drinks. The cherry is that his entire gated lawn has been decorated to the perimeter of fun inflatables and spooky decorations. You know it's mostly for his kids, whom he goes nothing short of above and beyond for.

However, he had informed you days ago that they would be out of town this weekend - and, even if they were not, he's off work, so he doesn’t need you. This means he also had not invited you to his party.

You clearly still intend to show up unannounced, a bold move on your part.

You lock up your house - a small, co-owned property that truly looks out of place across from Nanami's home - which he technically pays the rent for. You carefully make your away across the overcrowded street full of cars, decorations, and humans who are already half past drunk.

As you walk up the stone steps that lead to his front door, your stomach is keyed up. You shouldn't feel any different than you normally do when coming over for work, but you’ve really let this highly unprofessional crush of yours get out of control.

You make it to the porch. You're unsure if he will even hear the doorbell, but you press it anyway. The door slides open after about ten seconds, as if he has been standing there watching it. You feel your body freeze immediately upon seeing him.

Nanami is towering over you in the threshold. His face lights up almost instantly, but that's not all that has your heart threatening to crack open your rib cage; it's also his delicious white button down, popped open by a few to reveal tiny bits of blond chest hair, and then of course there are the long, white ears on top of his head.

“Why hello, officer, did we get a noise complaint?” He chuckles at his own dad joke before bowing his head in greeting. “Sorry, I’m just surprised to see you. I figured you would be thrilled to not have to look at these four walls for a few days while my children are with... their mother.”

You watch his face drop in disgust at the mention of his ex-wife, but he’s never said anything bad about her. Whenever you’d asked why things hadn’t worked out, he’d said "they just didn't." And that was that, but part of you aches to know what had happened.

It shouldn’t matter. He is not interested in you. He gives you a paycheck, and that is all.

"Well," you begin carefully, "Who would want to miss out on the most exclusive Halloween party of the year?"

This coerces a deep laugh out of Nanami, then he steps aside and allows you to walk in. He is holding a short rocks glass of unidentified brown liquor, and you can smell whatever it is in a cloud around him.

Once inside, Nanami’s voice is quite muffled from the clank of dishes and bustle of workers. The two of you stop to stand in the foyer, a grand crystal chandelier winking at you from above.

"Exclusive isn't the word I'd use," he says, following your eyes as he takes a sip. "Everyone and their mother is here. Literally." He tilts his glass towards an elderly woman who stands next to a redhead about Nanami's age.

You should be laughing at his joke but instead, your stomach knots grow tighter at the reminder of how many people his age are here preying on him, the neighborhood catch, with careers and homes of their own.

Nanami is seven years your senior, you think. No wonder he wants nothing to do with a young, non career-oriented thing like you when he has all of these sophisticated people crawling at his feet.

You can't think about that now, or the courage you’ve spent a week building will cease to exist.

"Heh - well, either way," you continue, "it's a big party. I know the kids aren't here, but-"

"But I'm glad you are," Nanami smiles, his eyelids hanging a little low from the liquor in his system. "You look very nice, darling. I like your ears."

He grins and points to his own headband. A grown and very, very large man dressed as something as vulnerable as a little rabbit has your nerves aflame.

"Hmm, I bet you do," you tease. “Like it so much you had to copy me?”

Nanami makes a disapproving sound with his tongue, leaning forward a bit to be eye level with you. "Copy you? I was unaware that rabbits and foxes were the same animal. In fact," he adds, "if I'm not mistaken, foxes are a rabbit's natural predator."

You had been trying to look away from him now that he has moved so close, but as the last sentence rolls out of his mouth, you make the mistake of looking directly into his eyes - and what you see makes your limbs jelly. Maybe it's your delusions, but he seems to be drinking you up equally as much as he is his liquor.

You laugh to pop the bubble of tension, but Nanami's face remains as still as ice.

"Well, I certainly don't think I pose a threat to you, sir," you say, voice unnervingly dry. "You are twice my size."

At this, his intense stare transitions into a soft smile. "You just have to get my guard down. Then, I'm sure a little thing like yourself would be able to have your way with me."

You blink quickly, assuming you've misheard him. Then again, though, he tends to say things that could be flirty - but he is just a naturally charismatic man. Means nothing.

"Ah," you mumble out, shifting your weight from side to side. You have to find a way to change the subject, but most importantly, you need get his attention off of you. You’d wanted it so bad, now you don’t know how to handle it. As you scheme, he sips his drink again, eyes still watching you over the rim of the glass.

"So... the kids always go with their mom on Halloween?" you ask abruptly.

Nanami quickly swallows his sip before shaking his head. "Well I had them for the Fourth of July, you recall."

You do recall. A little too well. Nanami in nothing but tight, black swim shorts and his signature sunglasses as he flipped meat over the grill - and you playing in his pool with the kids. He’d invited you to celebrate the holiday with him after his kids had begged, but your mind was definitely elsewhere. The memory popping into your head almost makes you not hear what he says next.

"We alternate holidays. So I will have them for Thanksgiving, she for Christmas," he shrugs a shoulder. "I would have traded Thanksgiving for Christmas, but alas. Christmas is always the busiest day of the year for me, so they would just miss out on time with their father anyway. I couldn't ask you to ditch your holiday plans for us, again, either."

He sighs. You feel your heart ache; he cares deeply about his kids, but he is definitely a workaholic. That is why you spend every chance you get at his house… well, that’s mostly why. But even then, you sometimes wish you stayed more to help, because Nanami works tireless double shifts, then spends his off days trying to make up for lost time with the kids.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," you say, attempting to comfort him. "You're an amazing father who is doing all he can. They love you so much."

He smiles and bows his head politely, so as to say thank you. "They love you as well. Sometimes, I think more than they do their mother."

You swallow a choke, before rutting out, “Surely not."

Before Nanami has the chance to reply, an older woman who you’d come to known as Agnes walks by with a large tray arraignment of bright green cocktails.

“Nanamin!” she shrieks out. “Where would you like me to put these? Very afraid of them falling. There’s drunkards crawling up the walls! I’ve already swept up sixteen broken glasses! Sixteen!”

You and Nanami turn to look at her with an equally astonished expression.

Nanami leans forward a bit to whisper in your ear, “My apologies in advance for her erratic behavior.”

Agnes is still staring wildly between the two of you as you giggle, awaiting further instructions from Nanami.

“Sit them wherever you think is safest,” he says calmly.

She huffs but ultimately takes his word, speeding off with her kitten heels clacking against the marble floor.

Nanami turns back to you and opens his mouth, but another voice cuts him off.

“Nanami, sir!”

You feel a twinge of irritation in your chest, but you really shouldn’t. He is the host and people need his attention. You should have seen this coming.

“Is everything okay?” he questions politely, turning to face the short brunette in front of him, who bats her eyelashes.

“I… I think that someone is fighting outside,” she says quickly, unable to keep eye contact.

Nanami is a smart man, though. “Oh? Well, what shall we do about that?”

“I thought you could run and stop them,” she says, twisting a piece of her hair around her finger, glancing at you out of the corner of her eye.

“I’m in no mood to be in the middle of a brawl,” he says sternly. “Have the butlers stop it, and remove them. You try not to get involved either.”

She huffs and spins on her heel, walking back through the living room with an angry stomp in her step.

Nanami clicks his tongue, “I really need to have her counseled in compulsive lying. She cries wolf so many times a day.”

You’ve never seen her before, she must be new. This makes you jealous all over again. She’s not quite as old as the rest of the workers, but still older than you. The issue is you see yourself in her, the uncontrollable pining over your shared boss. She just makes hers much more obvious.

Nanami clears his throat, and you notice too late how his hand has slithered to the small of your back.

“Perhaps we should escape somewhere more secluded, hm?” he says. “I really am enjoying our conversation. A shame we keep getting interrupted.”

You swallow thickly. The hair on your spine has raised at his sudden contact, making you shiver.

“Yes, that’s a good idea, sir,” you say, trying to hide how dry your voice has gotten.

Not another word is uttered before Nanami is swiftly whisking you off to another room; his hands now free of his drink and instead gently guiding you by his hand placement.

His gaze is not as focused on you as it is leading you both through the overwhelming crowd of people, and to the hall under the stairs that you know for a fact leads to his workspace. He moves his hands into yours as he gently pushes you ahead of him.

You take the lead and find yourself pushing open the big door to his study. Inside is a complete reflection of Nanami, his wealth and his cleanliness. Even his desk is free of papers, or any indication at all that he works in here.

You recall the days he works from home, in this very study, and he'd still be in his work suit, just minus the blazer. You'd let the kids sneak in on him, only once or twice thoughout the day, just to see his smile; and while you’re already there, you'd drop off a cup of hot coffee to help him plow through the rest of his shift.

He shuts the doors behind you both as you run to make yourself comfortable in his desk chair, spinning around like a child.

As you do so, you fail to see or hear his fingers slyly clicking the lock on the door.

“Much better,” Nanami breathes, moving to flick on a floor lamp in the corner, giving the study a soft, warm glow accompanied by the full Halloween moon. “Now, what were we discussing?”

“You, uh,” you clear your throat as you stop spinning in the chair to face him. “You really didn’t have to come in here just to talk to me. You are the man of the evening, you know.”

Nanami rolls his eyes, an out-of-character action you never thought you'd see, but one that looked so tasty, so sultry. God, you’re a pervert in heat - and your sweet, sweet boss is completely oblivious to the kind of horrible thoughts you have daily about him.

Nanami's now staring at you. His mouth is moving, but you have no idea what he had been saying.

"… to spend time with all of those shallow, insolent creatures,” you register, “when I have someone like you here?" He walks over to the desk and leans against it, right next to you now, as he crosses his arms over his massive chest. "We have never just sat down and talked. We always have little people depending on us or wanting our attention. Tonight, I’d like that to change.”

You let his words simmer for a moment. “What is it you’d like to talk about, Mr. Nanami?” you then question.

“What did I tell you about that ‘Mr.’ nonsense?” He frowns. “That makes me feel so old.”

"Sorry, sir," you gulp, not intending to upset him. You just can't help the way 'Mr.' and 'Sir' roll off your tongue, or how bad you enjoy seeing him shift uncomfortably at the use of the names.

"Meanie," he tuts, knocking you playfully with his leg. Another uncharacteristic action.

"What'd I do?" you blink, tilting your head as you look up at him.

"You mean besides drive me insane with your teasing?" he questions, before his eyes widen and he looks as though he's just spilled a secret. "I- wow, I am sorry. That is not what I meant to say."

"I drive you insane?" you echo. "I didn't even think you noticed my… teasing.”

Nanami's face is neutral, but his jaw is working under his skin. "I’m not naive, little fox." He lets out a breath. “This was truly an excellent costume choice.”

He leans forward and flicks the furry ear on your head.

“Thank you,” you smile. “I can’t say the same for yours. You hardly scream innocent bunny.”

“What about me isn’t innocent?” he raises a brow, standing off of the desk.

“I…” you blink as he walks around to the back of the desk chair. “You’re just, um…”

“Fox got your tongue?” he coos, spinning the chair so that you’re forced to face him.

You inhale a deep breath and hold it as heat travels through your stomach and right to the center of your thighs.

“You’re a man who is about his business,” you say. “I imagine you’ve… had a lot of life experiences,” you pause to remind yourself to breathe, but it’s hard because of how ferociously Nanami is staring into your eyes. “So you c-can’t be all that innocent…”

“You seem nervous,” he coos. “Here. Let’s stand up, I’ll sit down. Maybe that will help you to not be so tense, hm?”

Your body obeys before your mind catches on. You’re standing in a beat, and Nanami has replaced you on the chair. Your bottom hits the crease of his large desk, and you slam your hands down on the surface to balance yourself.

“Sorry,” you say, putting a hand up to cover your face. “I don’t mean to imply that you make me uncomfortable, sir.”

Nanami's pupils flash white, but it's gone so quickly, you might have imagined it. "If I do, please let me know immediately.”

“No,” you say, dropping your hand, “I just think we need to get to know each other better, right? Our entire relationship is through the kids. I know that your son’s favorite shade of green is kiwi, but I don’t even know your first name.”

Nanami chuckles at this. “You know, I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He taps your knee. “Kento, silly girl. My first name is Kento.”

"A-And your favorite color?” you continue, trying to ignore how close he’s moved the chair towards you, now that you have fully planted your bottom on his desk.

“Pink,” he says, serious as death.

You giggle. “Why pink?”

“It’s the color of my favorite thing to eat,” he says, slowly placing his arms on either side of your thick thighs, hands planted flat on the surface of the desk.

You think for a moment. “Strawberry ice cream?”

“No,” he cocks his blond head to the side and his eyes fall on your tights. “Try again.”

You pretend to think, though you fear you may be catching on now. “Hmm, dragonfruit?”

“Nah,” Nanami says, looking up at you through his eyelashes. His pupils have been dilated from the alcohol, but there is an unrelated darkness in his eye now. “Something I don’t even have to swallow.”

You gulp. “Oh,” your suspicions have been confirmed.

“Get it now, little fox?” he coos.

“Mhmm,” you taunt back. “Well, I suppose I came prepared with your favorite dish, then.”

“Did you?” His hands boldly make their way to the top of your thighs, barely hovering over the skin but enough to make the flesh there light on fire. “Prepared it all nice and pretty for me?”

“Yes sir,” you nod eagerly, feeling your own boldness appear as your knees slide further away from one another. “How do you like it?”

“Extra moist,” he grits hungrily, fingernails curving into your tights and shredding a thick rip! through the material.

You gasp, entire torso lurching forward as he drags the hole bigger and bigger.

“Sorry, little fox. They were in the way,” he shrugs an innocent shoulder. “And what should we do about these shorts? They’re in the way, too.”

“Then let’s get them off,” you whisper, hardly registering that such filth had been uttered.

This truly can’t be happening. Is Nanami… Kento Nanami actually going to eat you out? Are his hands really slithering up your waist and fumbling with the button on your shorts, or are you in some kind of sick daydream?

"Mr. Nanami-"

"Please," he holds up a hand, one still remaining on the button of your shorts. "Kento. Call me Kento."

"Kento," you echo softly, and his eyelashes flutter. “You really want to do this?”

Nanami sucks in a breath. Several moments of silence pass, then his fingers are gently pressing against your chin, and he has risen to tower above you. "Maybe it's the liquid courage in me that's pushing me," he says, "but I’m okay with that. I dream about you on my tongue, night after night. I need you, Y/N.”

Instead of allowing you to reply, Nanami's lips are assaulting yours in a flash. A harsh, irrational kiss from a man who's lost his battle of self control.

Your hands fly up to his face to balance yourself at the sheer force the shock of the kiss has on you. He groans softly into you as your lips mold together, getting used to the shapes of each other’s mouths.

You want to begin deepening the kiss, but Nanami is suddenly pulling away.

"I'm sorry," he says quickly. You look at his face; for a man who is always so calm and composed, he is flushed and even shaking a little. “I should have asked if that was okay.”

"Did you hear me complaining?" you ask sternly.

“No-”

“Then shut up and kiss me, Kento.”

He wastes no time obeying your command; this time as he kisses you, his hands find the soft skin where your hips crease into your thighs. You’re aware of your thighs rubbing against his stomach as he crawls further on top of you.

You slide your arms up around the back of his neck to hold onto him as his lips work pure ecstasy into your mouth.

You sigh against him and he digs his fingers into your sides to get you to do it again. Now his tongue is in your mouth, softly swirling your own, smacking fiercely on your lips as he does so.

You're panting now, but Nanami is swallowing your breath with every second. He's leaning his weight on his palm, so his body isn't quite attached to yours, but you want to make him lose his balance so he can crash down on top of you. Every moment that you stay like this, your cunt drips wetter and wetter, seeping through your shorts onto his desk.

"So perfect," Nanami utters into your mouth, "s'much sweeter than I deserve."

You frown at his self deprecation but don't comment, instead your hands start sliding down his chiseled back, exploring the deep ridges and shapes of pure, hard muscle.

Then, plop! You blink in shock as his bunny ears have fallen plum onto your face, nearly gauging out your eye.

"Oh," he gasps, breaking away from you. "Forgot about these."

He pulls away from you, standing upright but staying between your legs. You swallow a needy whine at his absence, before sitting up with him, staring expectantly.

"Think they'll look better on you though, huh, darling?" he coos, reaching over your head and plucking your fuzzy ears off. Then, he’s replacing them with his bunny ears. "There, that's more fitting. I feel much more like the hunter than the hunted.”

You tilt your chin defiantly. "Mm, so I'm just an innocent rabbit in the sights of a dangerous hunter?"

“Clever bunny,” Nanami murmurs, leaning forward and catching you by surprise with a wet kiss at the nape of your neck. You shudder. “Time for me to eat my latest catch, hm?”

“I-I guess so-”

“Oh, don't get shy now, bunny,” he mewls against your ear. “Do you want to do this?”

You pretend to consider it, but your dripping hole has already answered for you. "Yes, sir."

Nanami purrs in response and taps your earlobe with his perfect teeth - before you're being shoved back on the flat surface. Three quick beats occur. Beat, shorts off. Beat, tights off. Beat, panties sliding slowly down your legs.

"God," he says, hooking his fingers over the trim of the panties, which are light blue in color, accented by an adorable pink bow in the front. "All this time, I could've had you like this, if only-” he cuts himself off to lean down and place a kiss to your inner knee.

Your nerves send repeated quivers over you. You dig your nails into the desk, but your palms are so sweaty that your hand slips. Nanami catches you, a heavy hand on your lower back, the other hand entangling in your panties and proceeding to rip them all the way off. Your clothes are now in a discarded pile to the right of you, fuzzy tail and ears a reminder of what got you into this position in the first place.

“Well we can make up for lost time now,” you whisper, sliding your feet farther apart until your knees are angled into the air - gaping pussy winking up at Nanami.

His eyes nearly jump from his body as he watches you open up for him, glistening cunt all in his face. He's sinking back down into the chair before either of you really processes it, and his heavy palms fall flat on your inner thighs.

"She's s'pretty, sweetheart," he coos, the breath from his words tickling your clit and making you writhe pathetically. "Haven't even touched you yet. Why are you shaking?”

You whine out in embarrassment. Something about your most perverted fantasies coming alive before you, Nanami talking to you like this, and him staring directly at the forbidden parts you'd never thought he'd see, is depleting your confidence.

"What's wrong, bunny?" he asks, reading your expression. "You look like you are second guessing this."

"N-No!" you cry out, making him jump, before you sigh. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell. No, I want to. I'm just embarrassed."

"Why?" he perks a brow, astonished.

"Because you're so..." you huff uncomfortably, "fine, and here I am, of course anyone would be embarrassed of their own genitals, y'know I just kind of never expected this and-”

"Y/N," Nanami interrupts. "I've seen plenty of these before; all different types, sizes and colors. I am going to devour you regardless of what you think.”

You swallow thickly. Your head nods like a puppet, though you're unsure if that's you saying you understand, or telling him to go ahead.

While you're deciding, Nanami plants a kiss to your bikini line, then slides his hands to wrap his arms around your thighs so that it's now impossible for you to close them. Your stomach is on fire, and you're on the verge of gyrating your pelvis right into his stupidly perfect face.

"Tell me you want this, bunny," Nanami rasps, placing another loud kiss to your inner thigh.

"I want this," you confirm again, "want you."

You don't have to say anything else because his mouth has already found your clit. Warm breath travels between your folds as he keeps his tongue narrowed out to swirl agonizingly slow circles over the bulb.

Your hips convulse against his strength. It does nothing except prompt Nanami to flatten his whole mouth over your heat and pick up speed with his tongue.

"Oh, ohh," you drawl, your hands leaving the desk surface and going right through his fine hair. His hold on you ensures you can’t fall backwards, but you’re gripping his roots for dear life.

He grumbles against your cunt and you feel it all the way up to your ovulating uterus. The desire to have your womb house more of his children starts to enter your brain and you have to remind yourself that this is just sex.

Oh, but it's so much more than that. Nanami's taking his time to work your body, to know exactly which pace makes you cry out like a pathetic fucktoy, noting when you wriggle under his grip, as he pushes his fingertips into the flesh on your legs.

His warm tongue keeps your puffy lips parted effortlessly; lathering you up with his saliva, drinking in the fluid your body creates more of each second.

You sit up farther to look down at him; his eyebrows are furrowed and focused, his cheeks hollowed as he treats your twitching clit like his tongue’s dance partner.

He swirls, flicks, slurps - each variation unlocking a new noise from you as you fight back your orgasm.

As you watch him, your fucked-out, needy brain begins to tell you would give him whatever he wanted in this moment; six children and a house from scratch if that's what he requested. Because he deserves it; the way his tongue’s now dipping slightly into your desperate hole, making your hips jerk from the desk until he counter-forces them with his hands.

"Where do you think you're going?" he snaps, grazing his teeth over your clit.

You can’t even speak; he’s eaten your voice right out of you. His head shakes side to side as he plants his mouth back on you and peers up through his blond lashes, daring you to pull that stunt a second time.

Your hands are still deeply entangled in his roots, but at this point you can't keep your eyes in the front of your head. Your head lolls back on your neck as your hips twitch with an unholy amount of momentum. Your moans are growing dangerously loud; knowing full well there's an entire party nearby, as well as the possibility of nosy maids. Not that either of you care.

"Kento, s-so good," you lament, bucking your hips into his chin as if you could chase more pleasure than he's already giving you. The heat in your stomach is the first indication that your pleasure is morphing into an orgasm, but you don’t want to cum yet.

You want to try and run again, just to give yourself a little time to catch up…

The minute Nanami feels your hip bones sliding away from him, he pulls his mouth off of you; your orgasm slipping away. You take a deep breath in regret.

“Someone must not want to cum,” he taunts, keeping his mouth close to your trickling cunt. “Need you to stay still.”

“I can’t,” you breathe, trembling.

“Try for me?” Nanami requests softly, lifting your thighs into the air before plopping your feet flat on his shoulders.

He plants a heavy kiss to your clit after the adjustment in your position and you dig your toes into his back.

“F-For you,” you repeat mindlessly, brain officially scrambled like a breakfast platter.

“Mmh-” Nanami grunts, planting his fat tongue back between your slick folds, working his jaw intensely to finish pulling the orgasm out of you. He sticks the narrow tip back at your hole, flicking the rim of the inside as if it’s his purpose for living.

Your toes lift into the air as Nanami tests your flexibility, pushing your knees next to your ears. With the pressure built up in your stomach, you barely have time to mutter out the announcement of your orgasm before you're cumming all over his tongue and clenching your walls around the wet muscle.

"Give it to me, bunny," he moans, words muffled because of the way you're gripping his tongue with your pussy.

You keep shaking for a solid thirty seconds, because he is refusing to take his tongue out of you. When finally you’ve calmed to a slight twitch, he removes his face from between your thighs and the entire lower half of his face glistens in the light.

"That's one," he murmurs to himself, crawling back over you to plant a sloppy kiss on your lips. "You did so well. You taste so sweet, bun.”

"Can I return the favor?" you ask needily, dragging your palm down his chest.

He grinds his pelvis across your lower half, so that you can feel the sheer length of his bulge beneath his pants. "What for?"

Your eyes widen at just how large it feels; surely it's smaller than it appears.

"Wanna please you, sir," you babble out, watching his eyebrows furrow at the self-proclaimed pet name.

"Hm, think that ship sailed long ago,” he chuckles, rubbing his clothed dick against your inner thigh this time, and now, you take notice of the warm trail of precum that’s leaked through his pants onto your skin.

You dig your nails into his chest instead of replying. He bites back a groan and kisses your neck.

“I’m going to have to restrain you if you want’a keep being so touchy," he whispers sternly.

"I do have handcuffs," you say, following it with a giggle. Though you’re only half joking.

"That's cute," he mewls. "You think I need handcuffs to restrain you?" He pauses. "What's that you said? That I'm twice your size?"

You swallow thickly, remembering that you had, in fact, said that.

"So I can, and will easily pin you down, bun," he continues. "Don't act up, and I won't have to, yeah?"

You wish you can say you won’t, but if he thinks you dislike the idea of being pinned down, he must not be faking his innocence, like you’d thought.

A moment later, he's standing away from you, and his hands expertly unbutton his shirt. You watch him with desire, and he smiles a little shyly at you as he shrugs off the garment and tosses it to the floor.

“Funny, you’ve seen me shirtless before,” he says suddenly. “Why do I feel a bit nervous about it this time?”

You giggle and cock your head to the side, legs still spread wide. “Should’ve always felt nervous. I’m a huge pervert, y’know.”

Nanami dips his head before coming back to be close to your body again, his fingers mindlessly tugging on the hem of your shirt now.

“I know,” he whispers. “A little minx, you are.”

“Took you long enough to realize it, hm?” you tease as you lift your arms to assist him in removing the shirt. But you are caught off guard when he doesn’t continue.

"You're still sure you want to do this?" he questions, changing the subject. “I'm sorry. I'm going to ask a hundred times, it’s just a habit.”

"Yes, Kento," you rasp frustratingly. "Do I have to get on my knees and beg to be fucked for you to get it?"

He blinks, stunned, as if that is not something he ever considered; but does sound appealing to him.

"No," he says quickly, slowly lifting your shirt further over your body. "How did we end up here, hm? Was this your plan from the moment you crashed my Halloween party?"

"Uh-uh," you say innocently, as he pulls the shirt over your head. Now you sit completely naked in front of him - save for the bunny ears on your head.

"I get the feeling you're a big, fat liar," he teases, leaning back over you, now your stomachs are touching and everywhere your skin meets is tingling. "Didn't I tell you to be a good girl? Good girls don't lie."

“‘M not lying," you argue. "Admit you were over here waiting for me to show up all night."

"Maybe I was," he murmurs, dragging his top teeth over the connection between your neck and your shoulder before planting a wet kiss on your collar bone. "And you came for me, like always."

A gasp erupts from your throat and Nanami cuts it off by sliding his hand there. He uses his fingers to apply the gentlest amount of pressure to the sides of your neck and your body arches against him.

"Tell me if anything I do is too much for you, little fox," he coos in your ear before dropping his hand from your neck and standing back straight to quickly unbuckle his belt.

He slides the garment out of his belt loops, and discards it to the side, on top of your clothes. So in other words: close by.

"Kento," you pant, "please."

"Please what?" he questions, raising a brow innocently as he pops open the button to his tight pants - visibly taking a deep breath as his bulge pokes free.

"You're dragging this out," you whine. "I've needed you for so long. This is torture."

"So what?" he shrugs, allowing his pants to fall to the floor, where he steps out of them.

"I..." you cut yourself off with a frustrated grunt.

"You said please, but you aren't using your words, little fox.” He slides his body back over yours - his boxers now being the only barrier between you. "What do you want?"

"You, your cock, your mouth," you pant all of it out in one quick sentence. "I... I just need you inside of me, Mr. Nanami."

Your breasts rub against his hard chest, teasing your achingly hard nipples. Just so pathetic. Can’t control yourself. Your brain's swirling with desire and ecstasy for him. If he can't read your mind, you're sure he can see it in your face.

"Okay, sweetheart," he says, voice returning to its usual softness, "you got me. All yours."

He tugs his boxers down quickly, desperately. Now your hips are aligned to each other's. He's still hovering, his cock not even touching you yet. He slides a hand between your legs as his other keeps you steady, gripping harshly on your hip which is sure to leave a delicious bruise.

Your arms wrap around his neck and he drags his mouth across your jaw before attaching his lips to your neck. His fingers gather the drip from your hole, and then he slides them up through your folds and to your clit. He swirls the fingers softly, keeping his ear right next to your mouth so that he can hear exactly what he’s doing to you.

Your legs shake against his ribs while you moan for him, and he grunts as he takes in all of your body's reactions to his touch.

He goes to try and put a finger in your cunt but you grab his wrist. He does not argue with you, which should be a red flag, but you think you’ve won until he takes the hand he had been using to play with you and grips your wrist, yanking it back, and your entire body goes falling against the desk.

Somehow, both of your wrists are being pinned to the wood in one large hand now. You whine and squirm under him, but he doesn't care. His free hand grabs his cock.

He takes the heavy tip and taps it against your clit several times, each time causing you to gasp and arch against him.

"That's right," he whispers above you. "No escaping now, bun."

You blink up at him, lifting your hips to grind your pussy on him, which causes his lips to part and his eyebrows to furrow.

You open your mouth, tongue flying out, wanting to appeal to another twisted fantasy. “Need your spit,” you mumble shyly.

He seems to ponder for a moment before he realizes what exactly it is you are asking, and a moment later he is leaning forward, dripping a warm glop of saliva from his mouth down your throat.

“Mmh-” you moan as you swallow happily, before looking down between your legs where he is finally done lubricating himself on your juice. He's staring at you hopelessly, as if he’s thinking that putting his cock in you isn't going to be enough.

“So nasty,” he coos, “ready for me, sweetheart?”

"Hngh- please," you beg.

Not a second later, hot pressure is at your hole. Nanami slides his hips upward to push himself deeper, deeper, deeper - the girth feeling like it's going to simply rip you in half.

You shriek and shut your eyes tightly, waiting for the pain to pass. It doesn't.

You feel so embarrassed as he takes his free hand to lift up your left thigh, because pain shoots up through your stomach - and not the good kind.

"Ah- wait," you cry out, eyes falling open.

Nanami stops immediately. "What's the matter?"

"It... it hurts," you admit shyly, biting your lip. "Wh-Why d'you have to be so big?"

"Why d'you have to be so tight?" he chuckles back, but carefully slides out of you. "Hang on. I know what will help, little fox."

He pulls away from you, letting go of your wrists to lean over and dig into a random drawer in his desk. You have no idea what he could possibly be doing until he stands back straight, a hand still holding up your leg, while the other holds a small, light pink, bullet-shaped rubber object.

"Brand new," he says, eyeing it as he rotates it between his fingers. "Just put batteries in it."

You swallow as you realize what this implies. He knew he was going to fuck you - or at least, that he was going to use this toy on you at some point. Or, a third worse thing: it hadn't been for you at all.

You don’t want to think about that possibility, though.

He hands the little toy to you, a small buzz coming from it already.

"Hold it for me," he instructs. "I need my hands to keep my prey from running."

You gulp and do as he says, and again he is taking his cock head and pushing it against you, before it slides through the gummy entrance and you cry out again.

You hold the toy to your clit and the feeling travels straight through your veins. You focus on the vibrations and before you can even inhale again, your insides are completely full.

"Deep breaths, bun," he grunts, "feel her o-opening up… now.”

Did he just stutter? Kento Nanami, who's always so composed. You'd made him lose his wording. You.

Nanami takes his hands and pulls your knees up, holding them to his sides, while you keep your hand occupied on the little bullet between your legs.

The combination of the toy plus his cock filling you up and molding your walls against it has you aching to spill over, already.

Now that the searing has begun to dissolve, his cock is gliding effortlessly inside of you - feeling as though the organ was crafted to fit you perfectly. Your juices cover every inch of him, delicious squelches creating a symphony with your moans as Nanami's pace quickens.

He has his hands still pressed on your thighs but he leans forward and gently pulls a nipple into his warm mouth. You don't know what to do with your free hand, so it ends up on his back, nails mercilessly breaking open his skin. He hisses and nips your nipple between his teeth.

"Fuck. Me," he groans, pulling away from your chest to look down at you. You want to make a comment about how you already are, but he just looks so fucked out - so vulnerable. Lips puffy and wet, eyes shut tight, hair dangling over his forehead.

He’s ruined.

He claws his fingers into your outer thighs. His fingers dig so hopelessly into you as his cock swirls your insides, his hips now moving in a rhythmic wave motion.

Your hand falls away from your clit with the toy and you hardly notice that it's gone because now, his pelvis is brushing over it, sweat practically gluing the two of you together.

"Aw," he purrs, and you look up to see that his eyes are staring directly between your legs. "You’re creaming all over me. Shit - your cunt looks so good, swallowing me up.”

Your face heats and you take your hands to grip his arms, as he's now drilling into you so torturously that you're gliding up the desk - the sweat on your back making your skin slick. He notices you're moving away and shifts his hands to grab your hips, holding you down onto him, and now his fat tip is violating your cervix.

"H-Hah Kento, ngh - God," is all you can manage to say, but there’s nothing holy about what his cock is doing to you, as he angles himself upward, attacking your uterus from a new direction.

You shriek, so horribly loud. It sounds like a horror movie - which is fitting. You’ve nearly forgotten that it’s Halloween night; the moon full, your passions like the tides, being pulled to their peak.

You desperately feel a needy confession on your lips but you know that now isn't the time. You can't love a man you don't date... right? But you definitely love the way he's tearing up your insides, sure to leave you swollen and limping.

"I don't remember telling you that you could remove your hand," he snaps, realizing you’ve removed the bullet, "put it back. Now."

You shake your head, begging for mercy. "Was too much, c-can't take it."

"Yes you can," he whispers, leaning forward and hovering his mouth over yours, cognac-scented breath teasing your parted lips. "Put it back, or I stop."

You whine and obey, the vibration revisiting your clit making your body convulse against him.

"Mhmm, like that sweetheart," Nanami coos, staring at you as your face twists every couple of seconds from the introduction of new kinds of pleasure. "Stick that tongue back out for me."

Your mouth is open, drool practically spilling out of the sides in a millisecond. He's spitting another alcoholic saliva drop into your mouth the next.

His breath is ragged as he drags out, "Thought I knew everything. But y’teaching - hah - me new things. Like how I can never live without your pretty pussy, ever again."

You quiver your lip and dig your nails into his back again, ready to cum on his cock.

"S-Stop talking like that," you grit out. "G-Gonna cum if you don't stop."

"Is that supposed to scare me?" he questions harshly. "You can cum over and over. I’m not finished with you."

You shake your head, but before you can fire back, Nanami is suddenly sliding himself out of you. You panic and sit up, staring at him with wide eyes as he drops to sit on the chair.

His hands come up to grab your hips roughly, and he's effortlessly pulling you down off of the desk. Your stomach makes contact with his thighs as he lays you over his lap like a disobedient child.

"Nanami?" you breathe, but he doesn't seem to hear you at all.

"We just needed to pause for a second," he says softly, running a hand down your spine and over the hill of your ass. His voice is very misleading, as are his gentle gestures; you have no idea what's coming.

"N-No," you whine, "I was so close."

"But, naughty bunny, didn’t you tell me to stop?" he questions, distracting you from the fact that his fingers are sliding between your asscheeks and down to your swollen hole.

You jerk in his lap as two of his fingers glide down your slick, parting your thick lips, repeating the process several times just to watch you squirm.

“Y-Yes, but-”

“What’d I tell you about lying?” he grits, and a blink later his fingers have parted from your skin.

You turn to scold him and his hand cracks down on the back of your thighs.

You yelp, but the action exhilarates you in some kind of disgusting way.

“Oh, and here’s another for calling me Nanami,” he spits, another crack landing on your backside but this time - higher, and harder.

“K-Kento, I’m sorry,” you whine, but you truly don’t want it to stop. Your fingers dig into his leg and he hisses, his cock jerking against your stomach as his body responds.

“How sorry, bun?” he coos, voice faking softness before another pop! of his palm stings your skin.

“I’ll be good, promise,” you whisper, arching your hips up to encourage another smack.

“You like this, don’t you, naughty bunny?” he realizes suddenly, and you try to shake your head in denial - but he’s caught on. “Hm. I’ll only accept your apology if you give me two more orgasms. Deal?”

“Two?” you cry. “I-I’ve already had one!”

“Good things always cum in threes, baby,” he murmurs, running his hand over the pretty hand-shaped welps he’s left on your skin. “You can give it to me. You want to be good, don’t you?”

You don’t know when the shift happened, but you loved it. You loved how he was letting his soft facade crumble to the ground so that he could truly slap you around like you were just a hole. Truthfully, that’s all you wanted to be. Wanted to let him take out the stress of being a single father on your guts, fill you up with more babies to care for, and then kiss you on the forehead when it was all done.

Pathetic. This is still your employer, your boss. And not to mention how much older he is. You don’t care, but you’re unsure if he does.

“I wanna cum again, please,” you beg, wriggling your ass up to show him you still needed punishment.

He groans before his two thick fingers are pressing between your lips and then, shoving through the soft ring at your center.

Your body shamelessly arches, but he allows your arms to stay free, clawing into his skin wherever you can get a grip.

Nanami is making his own noises above you but you’re on the verge of tears, wailing and carrying on as he fucks you with his fingers, curling the tips into your squishy ridges to try and drive the cum out of you faster.

“Maybe we should get one of those tails with a plug,” he comments, tone implying he’s thinking out loud. “It’s a shame I didn’t get to see you in your cute little tail while I fuck you.”

“Hngh - no, mmh…” you don’t even know what noises to make anymore. Words escape your brain.

Nothing but mush and the burning of your approaching orgasm are on your mind.

“Hold it in for me,” Nanami requests suddenly, “I’ll tell you when I’m ready for it, sweetheart.”

“God,” you shake your head and clench your thighs, but Nanami’s strong hand forces them back apart.

Your toes curl on the other side of the chair, your head falling forward. The pulse in Nanami’s cock is still drumming against your abdomen, as if knocking on your tummy to threaten you to hold your orgasm.

“I-I can’t,” you say, “Please, can I-”

“Cum.”

Nasty, wet squelches don’t stop as your body sends you over the edge. Your vision blacks and you shake so hard that you nearly roll right to the floor.

He hums approvingly, slowing his fingers down as you clench around them. “Good job, bun. Only one more to go.”

“I can’t take another,” you shake your head, as he gently guides you up into a sitting position on his lap.

“You’re so strong,” he says, “the perfect person for me. The way you always take care of me and the kids, how you fit so effortlessly into our little family. I know you can do this for me, sweetheart. Let me repay you for all that you do for us. Make you feel good.”

You hadn’t expected this little speech. It almost brings you to tears as Nanami gently rubs your back, sliding his free arm underneath your legs to lift you princess-style back onto the desk.

“Say something,” he begs, his voice hoarse.

“I wanted to be good for you,” you grin softly, and he smiles back as he runs his hands gently over the top of your legs. “But you want to be good for me. Which is it?”

“Both,” Nanami whispers. “I told you that you already do everything that keeps me content. Now, I want to please you.”

You realize that he is passing his power off to you. Letting his dominance slip through his fingers and right into the palm of your hand. You think you can handle being in control for your final orgasm, so you grip him harshly by his cock and scoot your ass to the edge of the desk.

He moans so softly that it could have been a whimper. You take his curvy length and drag it up to be aligned with your hole.

“Is your cock alone gonna please me, hm?” you purr, swirling your hips to tease his cock head, salty precum spreading across your hole.

“Y-yes ma’am,” he mutters, body lurching forward as if he’s the overstimulated one.

“Prove it,” you quip, shoving him back inside of you before pushing your hips down onto him.

You furrow your eyebrows to try and pretend the pain of him entering isn’t still intense. You lift yourself off of your palms and feet, using them to fuck down onto his twitching cock.

“Hah - Y/N,” he speaks your name in two sultry syllables, putting his hands on the desk to fully release his control as you use him.

“Baby, I need to fill you up,” he continues, “b-but if you don’t want me to…”

“Yes,” you say, “want me to have your babies, Mr. Nanami?”

“Oh,” he whimpers, “shit. Shit, don’t say stuff like that.”

You whirl your hips on him in the shape of an ‘O.’

“Want to breed me?” you continue. “Make me all big and pregnant?”

“That’s enough,” he snaps suddenly, hand clamoring down on the belt that is to your side, before he grips the garment in his hand. He sits up from where he’d been leaning on you, before taking the leather and slithering it around your neck, pulling it through the buckle, and yanking it towards him like you’re just a pathetic bitch on a leash.

“You had your fun,” he grits, “now you need to remember your place, bunny. I’m going to fill you to the brim until your cunt can’t take anymore and it drips back out of you, got it?”

“Mmh,” you pull against his belt as your hips are no longer the once controlling the pace. “Nanami, n-nooo…”

Your voice tapers off as he fucks you, fucks you so good and hard and mean until you’re drooling and crying and shaking and hissing and-

“Cumming!” you scream, but Nanami shows no signs of slowing down.

“That’s it,” he says. “Number three. What about four?”

“Y-You said…”

“Oh, you’re the only one who gets to lie around here?” he chuckles, a deep hypnotic sound that vibrates against your chest. “It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m gonna - ngh” and one viscid moment later, Nanami begins to shudder, and it is the beginning of the end.

You cannot tell if you are mourning or rejoicing the conclusion of this insane chain of events, but you forget all about it when Nanami is spurting hot semen all over your taut, spongey walls - that are now sore and quivering from the excessive abuse.

Your name leaves his lips in between the sultry noises he makes, and his body jerks on top of you until he’s finished spewing his load. Now, he stands in front of you with his head dipped down as he pants for several seconds.

“Do you understand how addicting you are?” are the first words that leave his lips after he is able to drag his head up to look at you.

You’re focused on your own huffing as you try to come up with a witty response, but with your brain so fucked out, the only thing you can mutter is “Oh, Kento.”

He nestles his sweaty face into your neck and plants a feathery kiss there, reminding you that he is still the same gentle Nanami that tucks his children in bed at night and drinks green tea in the garden.

He is everything you have dreamed of, but the sex had truly sealed it. Now, as he slips out of you and his cum follows soon after, you feel your post-high clarity morphing into embarrassment at the fact that all you’d been feeling is lust; Nanami deserves so much more than that, including his recognition as a father.

“Why are you staring at me? Have I still got your nectar on my face?” he jokes, and you admire his ability to loosen the tension.

“I’m sorry,” you say meekly, “I just think you are amazing. I don’t want you to think I really did just come for some cock.”

At this, he laughs so hard that his torso shakes. You smile, as it is rare to hear, and you are the cause of it.

He grabs his shirt and begins to use it to wipe himself off, then does the same for you, his movements intentional and gentle as he cleans you up, rubbing all of the puffy, red reminders on your body softly.

“I don’t think that,” he says with a crooked smile. “But whatever the case, I do hope that things have… changed between us.”

You scoff. “I should hope so,” you tease, tilting your head as he stops his hands on your body. “I hope you’re not going around making every person who comes near you cum three times in one sitting and expect to just be friends.”

He grins. “Nah, that treatment is reserved for you, bun.” His hands slide up your hair and pat the fuzzy ears on your head. “We should keep these around, though. But I’d like to take you out before we use them again.”

You wrap your arms around his shoulders and bring his face to yours, planting a gentle kiss on his nose. “Of course. You did say good things come in threes,” you grin. “The sex was one. The date will be two. What’s three?”

And your question gets answered nine months later, when Nanami proposes to you on a white beach in another country.

…Right before you go into labor.

But of course, once the baby is out, it’s time to start on number 4 the following Halloween.

A/N 2.0

ty all sm for the love on this series so far i’m rlly havin the time of my life writing all these twisted monster-fucker stories ^.^

~ pennjammin

[gffa]

Probably the biggest problem with The Acolyte is what really bit it in the ass in the finale--its main characters did things because of the plot, not because they were organically built up or made sense. I could mostly overlook it in previous episodes because it felt like there was still more time to reveal the characters' motivations, but now that we're at the end, there's just so little throughline for either of the twins' characterizations. Mae makes the most sense, you get why she was so angry, she always wanted Osha to stay with her, of course she'd drop everything when Osha was alive, but then suddenly she's just completely okay with Qimir erasing her memories of Osha? Of giving up that relationship that drove her the entire time--and Qimir says this was permanent, I doubt Mae had reason to think otherwise--in half a second flat, not just physically separating her from Osha, but erasing her entire relationship with her?? And Osha makes even less sense, we all joke that about how hot Manny Jacinto is and how he ~seduced her to the dark side, but honestly her motivations just seemed utterly gone in the previous episode, she's 100% ready to drop everything she believed in and go with him just because? And up to this point she's barely shown any interest in her connection to Mae, it's all "tell not show" that Osha cared about her, we're told that it was her biggest wound, we're told that she felt that connection, but we don't really see it until suddenly she's running away with Mae because apparently all along she felt that pull towards her? Intellectually, there are reasons given in the show, but I didn't feel any of them, it was more "Osha behaves this way because the plot needs her to behave this way." It's the same reason Sol can't say, "It really looked like your mother was going to kill you when she started Force-dissolving you, so I reacted without realizing what she was doing." because if he's allowed to explain, then the plot falls apart. The plot demands that he half-ass his explanation rather than because that felt natural to Sol's character. Things happen because the characters need to get from point A to point B, so point C can happen, rather than because the characters felt like they would actually do that. And it's worse because these are your main characters, the entire plot of the show is set around them.

[ozzgin]

“Do you mean it in the sense that Reader goes through monster boyfriends and is quick to dump them for the next catch”

Yep. Just a vile reader who’s breaking hearts left and right. I think you’ll write it beautifully if you channel your evil side like when you play the sims! ☺️

-👘

Yandere! Monsters x Heartbreaker! Reader

You've always been a free spirit, unable to settle on a single partner. Even after being abruptly transported into a different dimension where you are the only human surrounded by monsters, this habit of yours has persisted. Except monsters, as you will see, are harder to discard than humans. They aren't as willing to accept rejection.

Content: female reader, reader is a player, monster smut

Ah, how troublesome. He won't stop calling. You lazily pick up the phone and look for the options to block the number, clicking your tongue in irritation. You'd specifically told him you're not interested in anything serious. "Who's calling?" The man shuffles under the sheets, still half-asleep. "No one." You respond curtly, glaring at the intruder. "It's morning already, by the way. When are you leaving?"

You slam the door shut before the overnight guest can bring up the classic "Will I see you again", and exhale theatrically in relief. Finally alone again. You look up and shake your fist menacingly, as if whichever entity governing this world is responsible for your bad luck. You've always been utterly indifferent towards committed relationships, and yet most fuck buddies end up head over heels for you, dragging themselves at your feet like pitiful beggars. Pathetic and a pain in the ass to deal with.

Well, someone must be up there, because your situation feels too much like a sassy answer to your complaint. You've just rushed out of your apartment a moment ago and last time you checked, the concierge office wasn't on a rocky hill covered in deep cracks erupting with lava, stretching out into the seemingly unending horizon. Where the hell are you? You turn on your heels, reaching for the door, only to find out - who would've expected? - that it's gone. Great. Your immediate explanation is that the guy you've mistakenly brought home last night must've slipped something in your drinks. All this for a sloppy, clumsy eating out.

The worry of being drugged vanishes quickly once the first creatures of the realm appear. Hard to believe anything on the market could cause such detailed hallucinations that can sniff and touch you: Some alligator-looking minions with eyes popping out of their backs slid out of a nearby crevice to investigate the newcomer. Ironically enough, they seem to be the ones shocked by your appearance. Once they've hesitantly assessed your presence, they scurry aside to discuss their findings. "What could it be?" You hear one mumble, completely baffled. For whatever reason you can understand their language, so you decide to speed up their detective work. "Ever heard of human?" You shout, with a hint of sarcasm in your voice. The beasts gasp in unison. "Nonsense! Straight out of a children's tale!"

Eventually, after a lot of confusion and pointed fingers, you manage to figure out your predicament. You've somehow landed in a world of monsters, where humans are more of a fictional, mythical existence. Thankfully they don't seem to consider your potential as food, though you're not sure if the sudden, massive ambush of creatures is any better. The alligator-like quadrupeds brought you to the nearest settlement and had to form a barrier to stop the curious beasts from almost trampling you in their frenzy to see "the human". You've garnered ridiculous amounts of attention, yet such reaction is to be expected; how often would an earthling wander into their world? It could very well be a lifetime singularity for many.

As the days pass and you become more accustomed to your fate, you begin to feel that familiar calling. It doesn't look like you'll be going home anytime soon and a lady has her needs. Additionally, whatever popularity you had back in the human world is a minuscule fraction of what you're currently experiencing here. In the eyes of the monsters, you're an exotic treat that cannot be refused. It shouldn't be too hard to find yourself a partner, or two. Or three. Who keeps count nowadays?

You remember stumbling upon a postcard print of "The Dream of the Fisherman's Wife" at some museum shop. You immediately picked up the thick cardboard, eyeing the artwork in amusement. A woman enveloped in the limbs of two octopuses and very obviously enjoying herself. Who even came up with the pairing, you wondered at the time. Whatever the artist was thinking, you can certainly see his point now. The first one to receive your indecent proposal was an eldritch creature of sorts, something straight out of Lovecraft's lucid dreams. Dark, long tendrils sprawling out of an amorphous core - which you assume is its head based on the bulging, glistening orbs hungrily staring at you. Your whole body is throbbing under the tight hold of the slippery tentacles, wrapping around you in masterful intricacy. You could see the result featured in a bondage magazine, though you don't...can't ponder much on it given the fact you're, well, stuffed with monstrous appendages. You doubt any genital variation back home could compare. The monster is even polite enough to occasionally wipe away the continuous stream of drool spilling out of your whining mouth. Towards the end you barely have a voice anymore, throat sore from the loud moans and merciless constriction. Your muscles contract all at once, overwhelmed by the sensations. Whatever sensitive areas you might have are presently aching under the needy fondling of the creature.

Mind-blowing. The memory is enough to have you wet and squirming with desire. Even more so when you consider the other varieties of monsters ready to fuck you senseless. Soon enough you're surveying the neighborhood for the ideal suitors and thankfully you don't have to worry about making wrong choices, as there's always a next target. Thus the following weeks fill you with a particular kind of nostalgia (among other things and fluids), reminding you of the bed-hopping in the human realm. From werewolves drowning out your whimpers with their desperate howling, to hooved legs of hybrids violently thrusting into you until you're a dripping mess. "Look at me" is what one of the beasts demanded in a low growl, turning you on with its ragged voice and clawed hand encircling your frail neck. Although you had to ask it where exactly to look, given it was covered entirely in eyes.

You yawn and stare at the ceiling, reminiscing about the depraved fuckfest you're currently recovering from. You might've overdone it with the last one. Alas, you came enough times to make up for it. Just as you turn around to readjust the ice pack, you hear a loud thud coming from the entrance. You (carefully) sit up and rub your eyes, trying to focus on the shadow figure approaching your bed. It's one of the lizard monsters, swiftly slithering across the wall and landing over you with an angered expression. "Where the fuck is that dog?" it inquires with a hiss. "What? Who're you talking about?" you mumble, wildly confused. "The one that dared to touch you."

Oh, not this crap again. You almost roll your eyes. "You never said anything about us being together." Is your annoyed reply. "What? I thought it'd be obvious you belong to me!" You're about to question the strange logic, but your couple's quarrel is interrupted by the sound of shattered glass. The many-eyed monster crawls its way in with fluid, uncanny movements, releasing a deafening screech once it notices the lizard in your bed. "Off! Get off my human now!" is what it finally manages to verbalize in its fury. Okay, it seems to be the common belief. To clear off any shred of doubt remaining, the ceiling gives in and crumbles like putty under the weight of an enormous tentacle. You scream and cover your face from the bits of rubble flying everywhere, but you're quickly sheltered by another thick appendage looping itself around you, against the wrathful protests of the lizard. You did not anticipate the eldritch creature could expand to this gargantuan size.

For the first time since arriving here, you feel homesick. At least back home you could get rid of your annoying admirers with the slide of a button. Is there a larger scale alternative for cosmic blasphemies? You shake your fist (up? down? you can't tell in the darkness of the tentacle shield) towards the entity once more. Damn it, you've learned your lesson. Several steps must’ve been skipped before reaching a pack of angry, possessive monsters fighting over your ownership.

[chaosandmarigolds]

siedem 🚑🚑

EMS AU thingyyy!!!

summary: Simon is hopelessly in love with the newest paramedic on base, however he just has the social skills of a five year old…plus what could he deserve someone like you? tw: mentions of a shitty bf and girl code kicks in strong

For the record you had two relationships in your past, however one was from kindergarten and the other was a little high school relationship so weren't sure if those could count lord knew with paramedic school and then the military you weren't exactly...seeking a romantic partner.

however, the terrifying lieutenant seemed to catch your interest. Much to your dismay because he seemed interested as well and that would be a bad thing but- well, you were sure if he did actually or if…maybe he’s just weird.

"Men are shit." The girl next to you had down at least five beers in the past ten minuets, however she seemed somewhat stable. So from where you kept your face buried within your arms you look up from the bar counter.

she looked around your age, if not you if you had the guts to wear a dress like hers- never thought a little black and shiny dress would do you any good. Either way, off topic, you were more concerned with the laceration on the side of her head- habit you supposed.

see person = trauma assessment or something like that so with a little grumble you push the vodka soda had been nursing for the night and look at her. “What happened to your face?” That…sounded so much meaner than you intended it too. The words a bit grumbled together and sleepy.

the girl looks at you and flashes a giddy smile, “You should see the other guy!”

you blink slowly, “There’s a other guy?”

She tilts her head to your remark and then brings the glass to her perfectly painted lips, “You’re not bright, are ya? No, my boyfriend sucks ass and threw my purse at me-“

“that’s mean.”

“men are mean.”

To that you hum and grab a napkin, splitting it in half as you move to stand to the side of her. “M a paramedic, m gonna help you.” she lets you dab the napkin on the small cut, the cloth sticking to it, “Honey bun, how many have you had?”

that was weird question, so you blink and then turns slowly to the glass, “Tw…thrr…four? No…I dunno. A few.”

the bartender chimes in- two vodka sodas and a shot of tequila. So the girl gives a laugh and then hops off of her seat, her heels making her a foot taller than you. And she pats your shoulder, “Let’s get you- oh.” As she tried to redirect you back to your seat and turned she was met with a man.

you let out a laugh, a beaming and giddy grin on your face, “Oh my god!! Lieutenant freaking- oh I shouldn’t say freaking, sorry uh- Lieutenant Riley! Hi!!”

the girl glances to you and slowly moves to make a small barrier, his overall deamor not exactly putting her to ease, “Hi. I’m Genny- and my cousin, Allie.”

What?

to that the lieutenant leans over to catch your eyes and to that you give an exaggerated look of confusion, and he speaks, “You have a cousin?”

you huff and shake your head, tapping the girl on the arm, “She’s jus being nice; this is- this is my boss, kinda sorta but he’s super weird but like…I dunno, but I’m his boss and he’s my boss.”

“You’re not my boss.”

“But Mary-!”

Simon looks to Genny and then gives a brief explanation on who he was and who you were, “Thank you for trying to protect her. But we have a meeting’ at 0600 tomorrow nd’ I need to get ‘er home.” He then looks to you, “C’mon.”

(I’m just yapping. Idk. Idk. Comments and feedback mean so so much, tootles!!)

[sinsmockingbird]

Hello hello I hope this ask reaches you well because I'm very not well thinking about rich alpha ptn women aka Eirene Chelsea and Cabernet share a lil omega together 🥵🥵

You're a freshly recruited omega who's responsible for working in the MBCC's cafeteria. The job is simple, you stay behind counters to serve the Sinners their meals and wait until they leave to clean the area. The bureau pays you well, enough to make ends meet every months but in your mind, you know you can achieve more than this.

In the first few weeks you do job perfectly, and even make friends with some Sinners. One of them is the famous Cabernet Franc, daughter of one of the riches families in Eastside. Cabernet clearly has an interest in you, her lust keeps growing stronger and stronger but before she can sweep you away, you magically disappear from your job in the cafeteria. When she discovers that you've resigned to work for the Quinn Industry, she knows she has to have a personal talk with the Eirene Quinn.

Chelsea thought she found you first, a naive, innocent and unmated omega who's working hard to earn money in the bureau. Immediately she takes you under her wings, telling you to be her mate and she will provide you an endless amount of money! When you reluctantly refuse, saying that you would rather be financially independent and that the Quinn CEO has already promised you a position in her company, Chelsea is absolutely furious. How dare the woman steal you from her?

On the other hand, Eirene is very pleased that she has the upper hand in keeping you to herself. You come to her cell all by your own, personally asking her about the vacant positions in her company without fears that she may tear your life into threads. Your determination and willingness to have a stable job in her company amused her, but it was your sweet odor of purity attracted her. It didn't take much effort to trick you into working as her "private secrectary", you were just so oblivious to the alpha's hungry stare. Eirene is the woman of conquer, so when she sees something she wants, she will get it. But why do you come into her office, according to her request to give you a brief explanation of work (a lie ofc), with two angry alphas follow quietly behind?

As a result, you are trapped in a same room with 3 intimidating alphas who're trying to kill each other to win over you. You're freaked out at the scene before you, wanting to run away and hide. But before you can take one step away from their gaze Chelsea makes an offer: "Why don't we share this little one?" The other two look at each other in silence, then nod their head in agreement.

The only one who seems to disagree is you, though. Being mated to not one, but three alphas at the same time, how can your body withstand the rough treatment? You try to run again, only to be caught in Cabernet's vines and being tied up in an embarrassing position: legs spread out on the head, hands on your head, immobile. Three pair of eyes stare at your clothed body making you instinctively squirm, their pheromones being spread you cause your heat to overcome your senses, then in a blink of an eye you are begging them to touch you desperately.

Half an hour later you have Chelsea behind your back, thrusting in and out of your ass and playing with your nipples, Eirene on her knees in front pushing her cock into your mouth, and Cabernet hungrily taking your pussy. Although the alphas still hate each other, they all decide that pleasing the omega together is their priority and tone down the hatred. Why would they fight when they have a needy girl to dote on like this? By the time each woman has their full, you've passed out from exhaustion and overstimulation, leaving to clean up the wet mess on the bed, full of their cum. Eirene plugs your pussy up, telling the other two that whoever your first child is can have you to themselves for an entire week.

They never back down from a challenge, so prepare yourself to be absolutely ravaged in the next months...

Oh god, this is so hot. Like I can completely see Cabernet getting pussy drunk off you. She's eating you out, her little Omega, like your a fucking feast, and you are! She would happily eat you out for hours, not caring if you've long passed out, she's just addicted to your taste, and you can't blame her! She'd be fucking/humping her cock into the bed, and she doesn't need any stimulation on her pretty cock, because tasting your cum is enough to get her off.

Chelsea is pathetic when it comes to you, her shared Omega. She can be possessive, wanting to mark you up with her teeth and nails, to try and show claim that your hers- even though she does share you with two other women. She's the one mainly fucking you with her cock, giving you endless creampies, because she doesn't ever want to pull out of your pretty pussy.

Eirene is probably the most dominant out of the three, and she's the one who sees you the most, considering you work with her. Being her private secretary means you're usually under her desk in her office, having her cock shoved down your through, making you suck her off and cockwarm her with your mouth. She also loves fucking you against the wall of windows in her office, making you stare at the bustling street below while she's fucking you rough and fast and staining your soaked pussy with her cum.

@sea-lanterns You'll love this because it has your wife, Cabernet.

[l-in-the-light]

Does Law hide himself and his emotions under his hat? 🤠

Yes, he does indeed. And he hides much more under his hat than just his emotions! Let's take a look:

Here, he pulls the brim of his hat lower to hide more of his face, especially eyes. It's widely speculated he was crying here or at least tearing up. I agree with that, mostly because this other scene seems to literally spell it out for us:

Look at his shirt :) Seems when Law is crying he wants to cover it up or hide somewhow, for no one to see. He's clearly not alright with being openly vulnerable, especially when it comes to showing his emotions.

If I would take a guess as to why, it's probably because crying makes him feel helpless and like there's nothing he can do (the whole Flevance wipeout and Law being unable to save anyone, not even his sister; being locked up in a chest and silenced by a spell during Cora-san's sacrifice; during both situations he cried a lot) that's why he tries to hide his face at least, to take a semblance of control, even if just to make sure the world doesn't see him crying. That being said, it's not a perfect explanation, because in his defeat on Winner Island he does not cry. So either he already accepted at that point that this will be the place where he dies (but why would he accept that, right? ;)), or my guess is wrong, welp.

It's not surprising that as the result of this habit of his we never see adult Law openly crying. Not when Mingo or Blackbeard beat up his ass, not when Luffy died in his fight with Kaido. The closest to crying is the scene with Sengoku up there, and also this one:

You can see tears forming in his eyes if you look closely.

But like I said, crying isn't the only thing Law hides. He actually doesn't express emotions much at all. Sadness, crying, honest smiles (Law's smiles is a curious subject deserving it's own study honestly lol), no expressions showing he's pleased, content etc. The only emotions he starts showing more openly is anger and worry, ever since he made that alliance with Luffy. It's not really uncommon for people with PTSD to mostly feel anger, it's kinda psychologically accurate.

He also hides his eyes under his hat when he's bluffing. Here, in raid on Onigashima, he claims he will do one of his surgery-type attacks, but two pages later he actually used Takt instead to throw huge boulders on Kaido :) part of the strategy.

His face is often obscured by his hat when he's hiding something or lying about something. "After sucking up the to the government you wouldn't screw it all up by making a mess now"... well, except that is exactly what Law was planning to do, he became a warlord just so he can waltz into the SAD room and destroy it and the story tells us this was literally the only reason why he wanted to be a warlord in the first place, lol.

Here, when he says everything is conducted "in secret to avoid naval attention", he's kinda selling Strawhats a half-lie. We know already that Doflamingo, the king of the underground, was supplying the Government with weapons. In other words, World Government knows about the underground deals, allows it and participates in them, when it suits their interests. That's also why Stussy, a CP0 agent, is also part of the underground. Morgans, our economic newspaper publisher, is also involved with underground and at the same time is cooperating with Government as well. So yeah, Government does know about those deals.

His eyes are hidden also when he takes the blame for what Luffy and Zoro did (yes, it's true he got exposed as well, but that's just the consequence of what Luffy and Zoro first did and only because he tried to cover up their tracks!).

And this "hiding eyes with his hat" trend is consistent ever since Law first appeared in the manga. In fact, already in Sabaody when he thanks Luffy for "showing him something interesting", his eyes are hidden by the shadow of his hat. We know that this is not what he's actually thanking Luffy for, he's thanking him for defending Hachi, the fishman, when people were basically saying he spreads diseases and is disgusting, and moved away from him etc. Because this reminded Law of all the hospital trips Cora-san forced him to go through as a child, and people's reactions to amber lead syndrome's symptoms.

This consistency in Law's portrayal (especially with the little trick in hiding his emotions - Oda already must have had reason for obscuring Law's eyes in this moment above, but not in any other one! And this connects to Law's backstory) is the reason why I believe Oda had planned a lot about Law ever since he introduced him, despite the fact he claims he invented Supernovas on the spot. It's just way too consistent for me to believe he had no plan for him yet.

Anyway, if you followed what I have been saying, you can already guess that in this shot, when Law declares that "he wishes he could let Luffy do whatever he wants", he's bullshitting everyone. He does not wish for that in the slightest, lol.

There are much more examples of that in the manga and even if I wished I wouldn't be able to cover them all, haha. But if any of you feel like checking it out, do it and pay attention to Law's eyes - are they hidden by the shadow of his hat? If so, you can guess he's not completely honest, is withholding information, has a secret plan set in motion, or is hiding his emotions.

At the end of Punk Hazard and at end of Wano, Law's eyes are hidden as well, which is why I know he's hiding something, I just don't know what exactly. People were suspcious already when this Wano chapter first came out and I would say for a good reason! There's really no point in hiding Law's eyes when he's talking about "North East being the most direct route" unless he had a completely different reason for choosing that direction. What could it be? Your guess is as good as mine. And of course we all know he hides his knowledge level about "man marked by flames".

Now that he lost his hat, he will be left really vulnerable. But at least his lovely ruffled hair will be unleashed to the world in it's full glory ✨

[notanothermacdennisblog]

i gotta talk about frank v russia cuz i was rewatching it again and whoever said it was a fever dream of an episode is so right, there's just so many implications to dissect i didn't catch them all at first.

the beginning of the episode sets up dennis's motivation to pass the effort of helping everyone around him onto someone else... by him putting an enormous amount of effort into finding normal dates and teaching mac and dee to be normal enough to hold onto normal people (i can't imagine how this would keep mac and dee from bothering him tho cuz they'd just come back to him asking for more relationship help, dating a normal person doesn't make relationship issues go away). the enthusiasm he shows when checking in with them after the dates shows this amount of effort was worth it to him. one could argue it's because deep down he cares about their growth, he mistakenly thinks this will get them to leave him alone, or that he's attracted to the thrill of the ruse. mayb it's some combination of all three, but given that he could have always just ignored them or left, to me his hard on for control and deception points to the latter for the most part.

which further explains his flimsy justification of catfishing mac just to "get him out of the apartment." like if that was his sole goal there's a million other ways to accomplish that. ways that don't include: creating a profile guaranteed to get mac to match with him, chatting long enough to establish an emotional bond (altho that's not the hard part when mac falls for anybody who shows him a modicum of affection), and buying and sending him remote controlled anal beads as some sort of complicated signal system when simply texting "meet me at the motel" would suffice.

we're talking about a man who started a cult just to get mac to stop eating his thin mints. who drugged mac with diet pills, convincing him they were "size pills" just because he was unhappy with mac's weight gain. the exploitation of mac's body dysmorphia serves not only as a means of keeping his self esteem in check so he's more easily pliable ("you've been looking so sexy, so this... this is disappointing, at least to me" in ass kickers united; "mac did you gain some weight?" at the end of the gang makes paddy's great again), but also to mold him into an idealized physique that he's attracted to, and the unnecessary inclusion of anal beads in this ploy is the logical conclusion of obsessing over mac's appearance.

it was never just about getting the apartment to himself, or even just seizing an opportunity to manipulate, even if those both played a role. there's just no heterosexual explanation for the full extent of what this episode is implying.

so it still seems odd that dennis would want to sabotage a system that was working in his favor logistically and emotionally, essentially giving up the thrill (and safety) of inhabiting another man's skin in order to admit things he could never feel secure enough to admit even to himself. was johnny becoming too difficult to maintain? maybe dennis was motivated to pass mac onto someone else because he was running into a wall trying to figure out how to keep mac interested while avoiding the obvious issue of meeting in person. an effort to self sabotage when things started to get too close for comfort, when he could feel a certain loss of control.

the "johnny doesn't love you, he doesn't even like you" was enough to send me reeling that it was too easy for me to pass over all of this the first time, what a red herring. there's not another man as toxically obsessed w his roommate/work husband in crime/life terry mac as dennis is, while also being so self-deluded he has to make up half-assed excuses just to convince himself this is normal behavior.

[ominus-potato]

Rebound search- cut scene

In the latest part of the pining Mario series, there was a scene I began to write where Mario and Mr Puzzles would go to the movie and accidentally hold hands and all that junk. However, I decided to cut it out because it wasted too much time and was mostly a whole load of nothing.

Anyway, here is that cut scene:

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Mario thought to himself for a moment before his face lit up with an idea. He turned to Puzzles.

"Hey! We don't-a need to base today on some silly romance movies. The people in them are clearly stupid and boring if those are the type of locations they meet their true love." He gestured to the notepad for emphasis, "We should pick somewhere entirely new! Somewhere that no silly romance character has ever met their love interest."

Mr Puzzles looked at Mario with curiosity; a confused smile appearing on his screen.

"Okay then... did you have anywhere in mind?" He asked.

Mario froze. His mind went blank and his face buffering as he tried to think of at least ONE place they could go to meet someone.

Meeting someone. That was the goal of this whole thing wasn't it? Mario knew this and he wasn't intending on skewing from Mr Puzzles' plan; but so far, his feelings for the TV hadn't changed in the slightest. If anything, they had only grown stronger! Going shopping, having lunch, spending time alone-  just the two of them, talking, laughing... Mario was having an amazing time with Mr Puzzles.

The Italian turned to take in the sight of the TV standing in front of him, looking down at him expectantly.

"Well? Where do you suggest we go?" He asked again.

Mario snapped out of his thoughts and stammered.

"Uhh... w-we should go..."

The, already small, logical side of his mind desperately tried to think of a place where he could actually meet someone new. Somewhere that would allow him to finally move on from the TV and see him as nothing more than a friend. That would be the healthy thing for him to do.

Unfortunately, Mario was anything BUT healthy.

He was just too tempted by the prospect of him and Puzzles spending more time together! Selfish as it may be, he didn't want to move on. At least, not right now. Mario just wanted to enjoy what little time he had alone with Mr Puzzles. Even if it was just platonic.

"W-we should go to the movie theatre!!" Mario declared with false confidence.

Mr Puzzles gave him an odd look, tilting his head slightly as he stared at the Italian, dumbfounded.

"Why would we go there? The whole point of a movie theatre is to sit in silence and not talk to anyone. That doesn't seem like a great place to meet someone."

Mario looked around nervously as he tried to come up with some sort of half-assed explanation as to why the movie theatre was actually a great place for meeting new people!

"Well, err- Mario thinks the movies will be a good place to go because... Mario really likes TV! We already know this and the movie theatre is really just one big TV screen that everyone watches! Plus, there's food which Mario also likes so that means that whoever is at the movie theatre has lots-a in common with Mario!"

Mario gave Puzzles a nervous smile, hoping that he wouldn't detect the uncertainty in his tone or notice the sweat beading at his forehead.

Puzzles' eyes narrowed as he looked down at the shorter man, seemingly trying to read his expression. A deafening silence fell over them before eventually, Mr Puzzles spoke up.

"Alright then..." he said cautiously.

Mario's face lit up and without thinking, he grabbed Mr Puzzles' hand and began to lead him to the movies.

Only once they had arrived did Mario properly register the fact that he and Puzzles had their fingers intertwined. He hurriedly let go, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he looked away, a light blush on his cheeks.

Once he had calmed down Mario cleared his throat, "Uh... so what movie would you like to see?" He asked, smiling nervously at the taller man.

Puzzles glanced down at him and let out a huff.

"Mario, we're not here for the leisure of seeing a movie. Look around! See who's here on their own and what they're going to watch. Then simply buy us tickets to the same movie." Puzzles explained.

He looked around, trying to wean out anyone who was there alone. His attention darted to the digital ticket booth where a man had just began selecting a movie. Puzzles grinned, grabbing Mario by his shoulders and spinning him in the direction of the man.

"There! See? There's someone. Go over to him, talk to him, then get us tickets to the same movie. I'll get us some snacks."

Mario was unsure as he looked between Puzzles and the stranger he was supposed to approach. Was this really the best way to go about this?

"Mario doesn't think that-"

"Just trust me Mario. This is going to be your best chance at meeting someone at the movies." He crouched down to Mario's level, looking him in the eyes with that screen; and Mario thought it was just oh so pretty.

"You want to move on from your feelings don't you?"

The question was meant to be rhetorical. Mario knew this. But as he stared deeply into Mr Puzzles' hypnotic screen, he found himself getting lost in the bright colours and captivating shapes. The question repeated in his mind as he mindlessly gazed into Puzzles' digital eyes.

Does he want to move on?

Mario wasn't sure anymore. These feelings were so confusing. One minute he hated them, the next, he was eternally grateful to have them. One minute he wanted to do nothing but wallow in a ball of self pity, then he'd be enthusiastically following Puzzles to the ends of the earth. The love he held for the TV had been putting him through hell these past few months but now, being alone with the man, Mario had just forgotten about all of the pain and anguish he felt over him. And all he could think about was how good it felt to be in his presence.

"Well I'm afraid this is going to be your best chance of moving on."

Puzzles voice snapped Mario out of his daydream and brought him back to reality. He blinked, slightly dazed before sighing.

"Okay..." he said.

Mr Puzzles smiled and stood up, making his way to the snacks whilst Mario watched him leave. He eyes remained fixed if the TV man for just a moment before he turned around to go and buy their tickets.

As Mario approached the digital ticket booth, he saw that the man Mr Puzzles had spotted earlier was finishing off his purchase. Mario hopped over his shoulder to get a peek at which movie he was here to see.

Lady and the Tramp

Mario mentally scoffed. Of course. Rerun day. Every so often, the cinema reran old movies decades after they first aired. It was stupid in Mario's opinion but what did he know?

Mario pushed aside his opinions and instead mentally prepared himself to talk to the man in front of him. This is what Puzzles asked him to do after all.

The Italian took a deep breath and was about to make conversation with the stranger before he was suddenly met with an overpowering stench. Mario shut his mouth instantly and scrunched his face in displeasure.

This guy STANK!

My god did he even know what a shower was??? Mario probably wasn't one to judge but that didn't stop him. There was no way he was going to talk to this stinky loser.

Eventually, the guy left and Mario bought two tickets for Lady and the Tramp. Even if he wasn't planning on talking to that guy, the movie could be pretty good! He just needed to make sure he got seats that were far away from him.

[crossdressingdeath]

Thinking about it having taken some time away, a revenge plot like Karlach's was I think one of the worst possible choices for a BG3 companion quest even before we get into what a half-assed fake drama story it is (why isn't her quest finding a damn Wish scroll, Larian, that would actually be fun and wouldn't cut into Wyll's quest or demand the player choose her ending if they want her to live, there are multiple spells that could fix this and we're given exactly zero explanation for why we aren't even trying to get one, you even brought Wish into the plot as a non-standard game over and then didn't bring it up here when it would be an ideal solution), because it really brings the massive double standard the game's got going on into stark relief. It's most obvious in contrast with Astarion. Like, think about it: the Gur's desire for revenge against Astarion is every bit as justified as Karlach's desire for revenge against Gortash; actually it's more so, given they have a real (though faint) reason to hope that they can actually accomplish something outside of his death, namely getting their kids back. But giving him to the Gur kills him and costs you a companion; it's a failure as far as his character arc goes, and in fact happens so early on he doesn't really get a character arc. All of that potential development is cut short and you have to see his corpse in the ritual and it is in general treated as a bad thing. The much better way of handling the Gur situation is to talk to them in act 3 and drag Astarion into atoning for what he did by trying to deal with Cazador and rescue the kids. This is good! Blind revenge solves nothing, having people pay for what they did by atoning and having to help the people they hurt as best they can is a much better solution! We love to see it!

Now you'd think the equivalent to that would be to dissuade Karlach from her revenge and instead get Gortash to fix the heart (either with his knowledge of the tech involved or—my personal favourite—his power and influence being used to acquire the use of one of the spells that could repair it or replace it with a normal heart because again there's more than one of those and it's stupid that none of them are even brought up as potential solutions), but... nope! Revenge is only bad when those outsiders do it, when it's a companion it's the only real solution! Like, yeah, she's got that thing where she complains that it didn't help at all but... we knew killing Gortash wouldn't help from the start. I don't remember if Karlach herself ever brings it up, but it's hard to miss that killing Gortash will not solve anything Karlach's got going on. And if you don't kill him you don't even get that much acknowledgement that revenge isn't a great solution. And also that's the most basic revenge plot outline, "revenge feels empty" is so fucking common as an ending. But it's just a moment that makes it so clear that Larian wasn't really interested in exploring the themes of the cycle of abuse and how aggressors can also be victims and all that with... anyone except the companions (and even then not always; see their complete unwillingness to ever engage with pre-amnesia Durge as anything but a heartless, crazy murderer despite the game itself including plenty of implications that that wasn't the case). It makes it seem less like a discussion on the cycle of abuse and more like good old-fashioned protagonist-centric morality, where the bad things the heroes do are forgivable because they had a hard life but anyone who hurts them is irredeemable no matter how hard their lives were. And it could've been avoided so easily (in a way that also gave Karlach's quest a more satisfying ending) by having a better ending to her quest that focused less on revenge and more on restitution. But no, heaven forbid we be allowed to engage with the act 3 antagonists in any meaningful way outside of killing them or acknowledge that the main thing separating them from the less moral companions is that no one helped them...

[liquidorcard]

Have you already watched joontheking video?

My thoughts:

- This is entirely speculation on my part, but I think "Val'kyr Studios" might have been a blundered, half-assed attempt on Lily's part to commit tax fraud. I'll elaborate on how Canadian small independent business tax benefits work if you'd like further explanation as to why.

-I'll pull my trans card here for a second to defend Joon's choice to include Lily's uncensored deadname. I want to make it clear that in the VAST MAJORITY OF SITUATIONS showing someone's deadname is a no-no. Lily has the right to refer to herself by her deadname if she pleases, obviously she's aware it's extremely easy to find, but it's not (in any personal circumstances) for others to use.

But the seriousness of the allegations called for total informational clarity and transparency on Joon's part, especially when it comes to Lily. Queer people, but especially trans women are often the target of pedojacketing. One of the issues, especially with criticizing her, is that just describing Lily in the abstract, she's so remarkably close to the alt-right bigoted stereotype of trans people, I'd HOPE people wouldn't take others at their word for it without doing research themselves. I know if you described Lily to ME without proof I'd have a hard time not assuming there was a good chance some poor women out there was being MAGA dogpiled by the internet, and 99% of the time that assumption would be the correct one. Lily is that one in a million irl stereotype. I believe she knows that and heavily exploits it-- maybe even leans in to some extent. It's hard to tell what parts of her are genuine and what parts are part of her are her shtick as the most victimized person to ever walk this green earth sometimes.

There was no good answer here, but that Joon said her deadname verbally ONCE for the sake of clarity, kept the screenshots and audio clips uncensored, but verbally gendered and named her correctly was a thoughtful and probably the best compromise. That he seemed careful to only include the claims with the most hard evidence or ones he could get direct testimony for and including a section trying to lightly address criticism of the authenticity of Lily's gender identity is also evidence of him taking care not to poop touch, in my opinion.

I don't know for sure, I don't know the man, and I am but a humble trans man, but that's my two cents.

-When he accidentally mispronounced Lily's name as "Loli Orchard" that almost took me out. I doubt it was intentional but 10/10, no notes, perfection. Chef's kiss.

-Seeing momma Peet show up to pick fights with Lily and Lizzy publically on twitter was wild. I had no idea that happened.

-As someone who was made known of Lily during the Becky Sucrose arc, seeing her Bhaalspawn and Brony arc comprehensively laid out in something that wasn't a bunch of disjointed posts for the first time was . . . Interesting.

-I need to make a Tara Callie wojak set.

[nyxcharliechaos]

so me and @lemonking00 decided to make a tier list...but it's what neurodivergency/mental illness the cast of Hazbin/Helluva have

Explanations/are they medicated?/extra details or thoughts below because this will be a long post if I don't

ADHD- Millie: unmedicated, she just doesn't like it

Vox: medicated but OH BOY DOES HE FORGET, man will go 3 days without it before remembering then he's medicated for 4 days and they he's out of his ADHD medication! and it's ALWAYS when the pharmacy runs out and won't have it in for a few days

Bee: unmedicated she doesn't care she's just having fun

Clara: she's just here because LK said Odette was autistic and we wanted an ADHD/Autism sibling dynamic, I was going to skip them because we don't know much about either, she's properly medicated, Carmilla makes sure she takes her medication

Autism- Vaggie: we're all in agreement on this right?

Alastor: I know he's a sociopath but we've been joking he's autistic for a bit lol

Lucifer: his special interest is clearly ducks, yes he's canonically depressed but the autism is winnning

Sir Pentious: ok so everyone I know agrees with his so, mans got that autistic rizz

Vortex: ...ngl we just wanted him to be the ASD to Bee's ADHD being the ADHD/autism couple dynamic

Millie's dad: as stated by LK "he just seems autistic" and then explained farmers give off autistic energy, LK's the autistic redneck friend so I'll trust him on that

Lute: ...I have no explanation she just seems autistic, and like a homophobic homosexual

Zestial: so initially we put him in the group therapist tier but the autism won so we moved him

Odette: explanation for why she's here above

AuDHD (written as AUDI relating to a series of inside jokes but long story short half our friend group is AuDHD and one of said friends used to have an AUDI)- -Blitz special interest in horses, bad at emotions, he's not medicated, he should be on several medications, he's not on any of them

Charlie: ok hear me out, we all agree on the ADHD yes, but her dads got that tism ok, she would to. she is medicated, and Vaggie reminds her, but it's a gamble whether or not she'll take her medication even with a reminder

Cherri Bomb: ...bombs and just look at here that's my explanation for why she's here, no she's not medicated, there's other drugs, no it's not the same thing she doesn't care

Velvette: she's better about taking her medication than Vox is but she still forgets, always seems to run out around the same time as Vox...when they don't have the medication...being Valentino during that is great/j the two will lock the doors and make him deal with their unmedicated asses till the pharmacy has the medication again

Fizz: I don't think I need to explain why he's here, he's not medicated, he doesn't like the feeling and he likes himself better unmedicated, and Ozzie loves him either way so fuck getting his ADHD medication

Adam: simple explanation, ADHD and Autism is hereditary, so it had to come from somewhere and in the words of LK "it wasn't Eve, idk how but she's neurotypical", Adam doesn't believe people when they tell him he's AuDHD, so no he's not medicated

Emily: I'm not explaining myself, she is medicated and does take her ADHD medication on the daily, Sera will remind her and if she forgets after that Sera will just give her the medication

Depression- (depresso expresso because funny) Stolas: literally cannon, and while also Autistic unlike Lucifer the Autism is not winning

Octavia: I would be too if my family was that much of a mess

Barbie Wire: just fucking, look, no I'm not explaining this

Sera: (just makes gesture like, look at this bitch)

Twamatised- (referencing a joke in Gravity Falls) neither of these need explanations fucking look at the two that are here!

OCD- Moxxie: we actually added this catagory for him, he's just got those vibes

Niffty: I swear I remeber reading something on an old ZP era sketch dump saying she had slight OCD, I might be misremembering, probably, but got those vibes

Group Therapist- (fun fact this was initially a Husk only category but a lot more characters belonged in it then we thought) Husk: (points to episode 4) and yes depresso expresso as well but, I made this category for him so

Razzle & Dazzle, Fat Nuggets, Keekee, and the Egg Bois: all are here for similar reasons they're (basically) pets that bring joy and improve peoples mental states

Ozzie: I don't think I need to explain this one, since it's basically cannon

Rosie: ok so all the overlord are autistic (minus Vox), but they go to the category that takes priority and she's seen being a person you go to for advice so, this is just cannon

Carmilla: quote from LK "mom", that's why she's here, again all overlords are autistic (except Vox)

NDP- (narcissistic personality disorder) Verosika: we actually added this category for her so

Striker: ok this one's debatable but he definitely has a personality disorder of some sort

Valentino (KYS) was added just for Val to tell him to die

BITCH was added for reasons obvious if you look at the characters, no headcannons here we just wanted to call out these characters for being bitches

[le-fruit-de-la-passion]

Two Hours - Chapter 2 - Shigaraki x Reader

After a little over three months, you had gathered a significant amount of information on Tomura Shigaraki.

He was smart, incredibly so, and an absolute genius with computers. He was probably the most hardcore gamer you had ever met and simply refused to lose a single match of any game. And, most importantly, he was kind of an asshole.

"Seriously? That's all the content you prepped for today? What am I even paying you for?"

He toyed with the greyed-out strings of his hoodie in boredom. "They were basically the same as the ones from two weeks ago," he grumbled.

"Well," you said as calmly as you could, "I could have prepared more if you actually did the lectures I asked you to do last week."

"They were useless."

"How could you know that if you didn't read them ?"

"I don't need to do something useless to be able to tell it's useless."

So maybe the jawline he hid under his layers of oversized black clothing was as sharp as it was delicate. Anyone could recognize an attractive jawline without making it weird. You certainly could.

"The idea is that we both work to help you, Tomura," you replied with much less bite than you would have liked. The look of superior smugness on his face didn't disappear.

Maybe the little mole under his lip looked lonely there. Like it needed to be kissed. That was a totally normal, platonic thought to have about someone you saw once a week and who did nothing but complain.

"I don't know," he grinned in a mocking sing-song tone, "I think you like helping me."

Ever since the afternoon you had spent playing video games with him, something had changed in your perspective of him. And he certainly wasn't the one who had changed: he was still very much a pain in the ass to work with.

No, the change was from you.

You couldn't remember the last time you had let anyone take a peek under your prime scholar's persona, much less someone who enjoyed it as much as he did. When was the last time you had gamed with someone? Told them about all your nerdy little interests without feeling rejected? Joked about something other than your thesis topic?

Poetry wrote itself in your mind every time you'd think of him. His skin was like cracked porcelain, pale and white, the marks marking his face doing nothing to dampen his beauty. If anything, it only made him more interesting, more enticing, and you wanted to trace each of his scars with the tip of your fingers.

You were going insane for a guy who had visibly never kissed anyone in the 3D realm, and you couldn't even find the will to care about it.

He stretched lazily, a sliver of skin showing an impressively toned stomach before it was covered back with black fabric. What else was he hiding under there?

Obviously, you hadn't gotten laid in too long. There was no other explanation as to why you'd feel so attracted to him. You tried to shake off the thought, reminding yourself that it was just a momentary lapse in judgment. But everything about him seemed to pull you in, a magnetic force you couldn't resist. Did you even truly want to?

"You know," Tomura said, his voice low and casual, "if you keep staring at me like that, people might start to think you're into me."

You blinked, snapping back to reality, cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "What? No! I was just... thinking about your midterm paper. That's coming soon, isn't it ?"

He sighed loudly, slouching back in his chair, giving you the perfect opportunity to at least try to regain your composure.

"I don't know what I'm even supposed to write about. The teacher is so bad at his fucking job half the time I wonder if he's not some homeless guy the university pays to stand around and do nothing," he complained, and you couldn't help but let out a small laugh. After a second, like he had hesitated before saying it, he casually added: "You'd be way better at teaching the class."

You tried to hide your surprise at the unexpected compliment, failing miserably the moment you heard your voice come out as a shaky squeak: "Well, um, thank you. That's very nice of you to say."

"I don't say things to be nice. I say them because they're true," he retorted bluntly.

Damn it, you thought as you felt another pleased smile tug on your lips. Damn it all to hell. You couldn't let him dig his way deeper into your stupid little heart.

"You know," you said, desperately wanting to change the topic, "I could pull out my own paper I wrote back in the day for the class. I'm sure I have it somewhere back at the dorm. Maybe that could give you some inspiration!"

"Sure, just text me some pictures later," he replied, seemingly uninterested.

"Or we could go get it at my dorm now, and look at it together."

The weight of your words seemingly hit you both all at once like a 20,000-pound truck.

"Me," he stated, his thin eyebrows shot up in surprise. "At... your dorm?"

You had fucked up. You had fucked up so badly that perhaps your only choice now was to run out of the library, change your name, and leave the country.

If you took it back, and laughed it off as a stupid slip of the tongue, Tomura would no doubt take it badly. Very badly. And he was not the kind of person you wanted on your bad side.

If you rolled with it, pretended you had actually meant to invite him to a place with a conveniently lockable door and a soft pillowy bed, he might catch on as to the very bothersome feelings that you held for him. That wasn't a very good option either, but the lesser of the two evils was obvious.

"Well, guys aren't usually allowed in, b-but the security guy will let you through if I tell him you're with me !" you explained quickly, trying to sound confident.

The embarrassing truth was, you had never brought a guy back to your dorm. Fool around at some dude's apartment or in the back of his car, sure, but never inside your own private little space.

Tomura, on his end, looked like you had just asked him to go into an active war zone. "I-I don't know..." He hesitated, glancing around at every item in the library to avoid looking you in the eye. "Maybe just like five minutes? I have shit to do after, so..."

"Don't worry, we'll be in and out," you reassured yourself more than him, eager to be done with the entire situation, "It'll be fine."

---

It was definitely not fine.

The game was called Kira Kira~☆! Stories of Dormitory Love, which was a stupid name for an equally stupid game. Tomura was fifteen and he had discreetly bought it online using Kurogiri's credit card, because he had learned the hard way Sensei checked his account statements. If Kurogiri had noticed, he never said anything about it.

The synopsis of the game, if anyone could really call it a synopsis, was that you, the protagonist, were called to do repairs in an all-female dormitory. You'd go about screwing all the girls one by one as they'd throw themselves at your feet, begging to be taken with their round tits and perfect asses. Tomura spent that entire summer locked in his room playing it over and over again.

As it turned out, that scenario was much less pleasant in real life.

He felt the eyes of every girl they passed, judgmental and disgusted at the mere sight of him there. They huddled in little groups like scared chickens, muttering between themselves as they threw him worried looks. He glared right back at them, and one of them let out a small gasp like she would faint out of fear. Good. He hated it, he hated them. But to some extent, he couldn't fully blame them; he didn't belong here in the slightest.

Tomura's fingers held onto his neck protectively, his uneven nails digging as deep as they could into the skin. The pain didn't help; he was still definitely there.

And you.

You made it all so much worse with how nice you were to him, and how you laughed at every dumb thing he'd say, and how you licked your lower lip in focus every time you'd try to explain something-

He hated you for it.

"If you want, when we're done looking over my paper, we can play some Plus Ultra 2 on my computer," you smiled hesitantly at him, completely oblivious to how badly you were messing him up.

"I don't really feel like gaming anyway," he muttered between his teeth. It was a lie, an absolute fucking lie: he never felt like not gaming.

From the moment you had told him to fuck off under the rain, he had liked you. But you weren't any different from any of the dumb pretty girls he'd jack off to at night; at least not at first. You glared at him with fear and disgust, like you knew he'd spend the rest of the afternoon picturing you pinned under him and choking on his cock. And why wouldn’t you? No woman in her right mind would look at him and think he was anything other than a creep.

Until you did exactly the opposite.

You started smiling when you'd see him walk into the library. You'd laugh at his dry sarcasm and bad attempts at humour. You'd hang on to his every word when he explained the secret behind mastering a peculiarly hard combo, eyes filled with wonder. You'd look at him with pride and genuine joy when he finished all the lectures you had given him.

And suddenly, it wasn't just about how tight all your shirts looked on your chest, or how well your ass would fit against the palms of his hands. It was about everything else, all the cheesy shit he never understood and skipped in dating sims to get to the sex scenes. He despised how easily you had gotten him under your thumb, ready to do anything for you without even realizing it. He wanted you to think of him as much as he thought of you, more, even. You were an obsession he couldn't get rid of, and it itched, it itched, it itched- but not at his skin, no, much deeper, into the depths of his entrails and in a heart he didn't even realize he still had.

You turned back to look at him as if you felt his inner turmoil, a small pout tugging at your lips. He wanted to rip it off you with his teeth.

"C'mon, just one game? Last time you said you’d teach me how to triple combo with Present Mic."

"Whatever," he said instead, staring holes into the floor. Why was the floor so goddamn clean? Did girls clean their floors every day? Why was everything about you so picture-perfect?

Fuck you, he thought.

"Oh hey, Neijire!"

His head snapped back up. Oh no.

A few girls were sitting on an assortment of couches, watching some kind of stupid TV show. One of them replied to your greeting with a smile so bright it hurt his eyes. He wondered if all pretty girls gravitated around each other naturally.

The girl he could only assume was Neijire excitedly jumped off the couch, tightly wrapping her arms around your body. His lips tightened at the sudden sting of jealousy, at the fact that she could so easily touch you while the idea of holding your hand made him delirious.

"Hey, oh my gosh, you're here!" the overly energetic girl squealed. "Wanna watch some Love and War? We just started season 2 and the plot is so crazy-"

Then, she noticed him, and her bright demeanour fell slightly.

"Oh, is he... is he with you ?" she gently asked you, like she wasn't sure if it was safe to address him directly.

"Yeah, this is Tomura, one of the guys I tutor !" you replied.

'One of the guys ?' Tomura bitterly thought. Was he nothing more to you than one of the other NPCs you tutored? Did you bring the others to your dormitory too?

If you noticed how quickly his mood had soured, you didn't show it: "Maybe we could borrow the common room for a couple of minutes? I just need to go over some material with him really quickly!"

Neijire turned around to look at the other girls, the unspoken hesitation written all over their faces as they glanced at him.

"I don't know," Neijire softly started, "we just started watching TV. Maybe another time, if he comes back ?"

Please don't come back, was the implicit message under that sentence.

"No worries! We'll just go in my room," you said, and he noticed the worried fidgeting of your hands. There was no way you could feel as stressed as he did going into your room. You probably had guys in there every week, hell, every day for all he knew. What did you have to be nervous about?

As you both headed up a flight of stairs toward the second floor, Tomura couldn't help but feel some excitement in between the overwhelming sense of dread. Being in such close proximity to you, entering your personal space, stirred something within him that he couldn't quite comprehend. He had never, in his entire life, even gotten close to the inside of a girl's room.

'Toga doesn't count', his mind supplied unhelpfully. 'Toga would let a raccoon inside her room if she could.'

The moment you opened the door, it was dizzying: the flowery smell, the pastel pink walls, the books neatly organized together in shelves worthy of a magazine spread. It left a sickly sweet taste in the back of his mouth, and he tried to nonchalantly observe the room to savour every inch of it. It was probably the closest he'd ever get to tasting you.

The room was small, much smaller than his own back at the bar. A simple bed, a drawer, a suspended shelf, and a work desk with a foldable chair were the only furniture of note. As simple and boring as one could do.

But then as he walked in, Tomura noticed a few things much less visible from the doorway. Various trinkets laid around the room; a bag of takeout was haphazardly thrown into a small trashcan; a pair of mismatched socks were left on the windowsill, seemingly forgotten. On the furthest wall, there was a small but obviously cared-for poster of All Might, half of his classic I AM HERE catchphrase hidden by a laundry basket.

It was like all the girl's bedrooms he'd imagined but... different. Like someone actually lived there.

"Let me try and find that paper," you hopped away to the suspended shelf, taking out various coloured folders filled to the brim with papers. You clearly weren't kidding when you told him you saved every single one of your essays.

"You can just sit anywhere while I find it," you said without looking back at him, and his thoughts immediately went to the bed. The bed that you had slept in. The bed that you were sleeping in every night. The bed that you probably touched yourself in, and that he could justifiably sit in without looking like a creep.

He was going to go insane.

"I-I should probably just wait downstairs," he managed to stutter out. He could feel his face heating up; he had to get out of the room, and fast, or you would definitely notice.

"No no, wait, I found it !" you triumphantly exclaimed as you pulled out a stapled document from one of the many files. "There's not a lot of space on my desk, so we can just... sit next to each other on the bed and look it over?"

You smiled brightly at him, a tinge of red on your cheeks, unaware of the nuclear bomb you had just sent off in his brain. He had to say something to get out of there. Anything.

"People are going to think we're having sex," he blurted out.

Fuck.

That was unequivocally the dumbest thing he had said in his entire life. He was going to dump university and never leave his room again. He'd live as a hermit and survive off Mountain Dew and Lays chips until the ends of time. It didn't sound too bad, actually; at least that way, he wouldn't have to see your face ever again.

The look on your face stayed blank for a few horrifyingly heavy seconds. The silence felt deafening, ringing in his ears like the "GAME OVER" theme in an RPG.

And then, you laughed.

You fucking laughed at him.

Anger bubbled up inside him faster than he could control it. It itched. Everything itched.

Of course you laughed. You didn't like him, and you never had. You probably laughed at his jokes to get him to shut up. You brought him to your room out of pity, to mock him. All the girls downstairs were probably on it too, cackling in laughter at how stupid he was for thinking you saw something more than a scared-up freak when you looked at him.

"I'm fucking out of here," he spat out, storming around to open the door. The feeling was crawling up his arms, up his neck. It itched.

"Wait, Tomura!"

You grabbed his arm and he roughly shoved it away, almost making you fall down. Your eyes were blown in surprise, and perhaps, a little fear. Good. You should fear him. He'd never make the mistake of trusting anyone again. How had he even let himself trust you?

"I get it, I'm the joke. Ha, ha, you bring up the freak to your room, make him think he has a chance with you, and laugh in his face, everyone claps," he jeered.

"That's not what I meant, I-" you started.

"Is the idea of being with me that disgusting to you ?" he harshly cut you off. It came out sounding more hurt than furious. I'm so pathetic.

"Shigaraki. That's not what I meant," you said softly, as if trying to calm a wild animal. He wasn't having any of it.

"So now, you're back to calling me Shigaraki," he bit back bitterly. "The whole buddy-buddy thing was an act too, huh."

"Tomura, stop."

He looked at you now, properly looked at you, fury burning in his eyes, and you flinched.

You didn't look like you were having fun.

You looked... hurt.

"Tomura, I brought you here because I like you. As in, I really like you."

You were trying to bait him again. You wouldn't fool him twice.

"Yeah, sure," he snorted, voice dripping with irony. "That's why you laughed, right ?"

"I laughed because I was stressed out, I-I didn't know if it was appropriate to bring you here, because I'm tutoring you, and I didn't know if you actually liked me-" you rambled like a deer caught in headlights.

"You seriously expect me to believe that? That you were worried I liked you?"

"I laughed because I've been thinking about nothing but having sex with you for the last month and you're worried about people thinking we're having sex!"

The blunt admission caught him off guard. His breath hitched in his throat, his mind struggling to process your words.

"So you... think about me," he rasped out, a glimmer of vulnerability in his tone.

The weight of what you had just said seemed the catch up to you. Your cheeks tinted a deeper shade of pink, and you made an expression you had never made before in front of him. You were embarrassed. Genuinely, honestly embarrassed.

"And? So what if I do?" you mumbled, desperate to avoid his gaze.

"What do you think about me doing to you?" Tomura insisted. He was pushing his luck, he knew he was. But he had to know. He had to know if this was real.

Your lack of answer frustrated him, and he tsked in disappointment.

"C'mon," he taunted. "Where's the girl who told me to fuck off when we first met? Was that all an act too?"

Silence. I knew it, he thought bitterly.

Then, in a moment that defied all logic and expectations, you closed the distance between you both, and you kissed him.

---

It was messy, full of wet tongue and clashing teeth; it wasn't hard to guess it was the first time he'd ever kissed someone. But what he lacked in experience and technique, he made up in sheer passion, his body holding your own so tightly you felt like he wanted to swallow you whole.

You gasped for air when he pulled away, a single thread of saliva connecting your mouth to his. His eyes were blown wide, pale cheeks a deep crimson, mouth agape as if he had just witnessed an otherworldly miracle. Had anyone ever looked at you that way, so desperately raw and honest?

"Again," he let out a low, broken whisper, "do that again."

You couldn't tell if it was a request or a command, and it frankly didn’t seem like he knew either, but you immediately complied, pulling him back against you.

You guided his mouth to your bottom lip with your tongue, hoping he'd get the message. With precision, he copied the movement, watching you carefully for any reaction. You let out an approving moan and he seemed emboldened by it, deepening the kiss and wrapping his body over yours, trapping you against the wall.

When had his hand found its way under your shirt? You felt rough fingers drag along your skin, curious and possessive, grabbing at the flesh like he wanted to take parts of you back with him, like he wasn't sure this was real.

Knock knock.

"Anyone home?"

You both froze. Shigaraki looked at you like an animal caught in a trap, eyes wide and mouth still slightly agape.

"Move, move!" you hissed at him, pushing him off you. "Just a second!" you shouted at the door.

Shigaraki was still looking at you with the face of a confused child left alone in a supermarket. He wasn't going to be any help. You straightened your shirt and quickly combed your fingers through your hair before opening the door.

"Ah, Miss Kayama!" you smiled tightly at the dorm's resident advisor. "I'm sorry, is the TV too loud? I can lower the volume,"

"No, no, the TV is fine," she replied, peeking through your doorway. "In fact, I don't think your TV is even on."

You could have died right on the spot.

Miss Kayama tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear, straining her glasses. "I was just made aware you brought a guest over, so I came to remind everyone that there are no visitations allowed after seven."

"Ah, I'm sorry, I didn't realize it was seven already !" you stammered hurriedly. "I was just telling Tomura he should pack up." You turned around to give the man a look: "Right, Tomura ?"

Tomura was still standing against the wall, as unmoving as a rock. He looked as though he had been frozen in time after the kiss, like his mind had short-circuited trying to process it.

"Tomura," you repeated more pressingly.

The sound of your voice seemingly pulled him from his trance, and he nodded slowly, walking towards the door like an automaton. He bumped against Miss Kayama's shoulder, and disappeared without a word down the wooden stairs.

"I'll see you next week," you weakly called out.

He didn't answer.

Miss Kayama slowly closed to door behind her, her usually delicate features were scrunched in worry. "Sweetheart, what you girls do in your dorm rooms isn't my business, as long as you're being safe about it. But who you bring here is important to me," she added, her tone more serious than you had ever heard before. "Make sure you don't mingle with the wrong kinds of people."

You opened your mouth to answer, then closed it.

Was there anything you could even reply to that?

---

The next few days were not fun ones.

[You: Hey, sorry about the whole kicking you out thing, Ms. Kayama really means well but sometimes she's strict with the rules]

There was still no answer three hours after you sent the text, which did not bode well at all. Any time Tomura's hands weren’t on any kind of gaming console, they were on his phone. He didn’t go anywhere without it, and you'd gotten used to getting replies to your messages within mere seconds. You sent a second attempt:

[You: My TV excuse was pretty lame right]

You laid on your stomach as you kicked your legs against the bed, glaring holes through the phone. Maybe your Wi-Fi was unstable?

[You: We actually call her Midnight in the dorm, cause she gets REALLY cranky when anyone has lights on after that]

Still no answer. You felt absolutely ridiculous, a lovesick teenager waiting for her crush to give her any attention. He had kissed you. Or rather, you had kissed him, and he hadn’t exactly pushed you away. That had to count for something.

You sighed, turning off your phone before huddling in your covers and closing your eyes. He'd definitely answer by tomorrow morning.

But when you woke up, there wasn't a single new message from Tomura Shigaraki.

[You: Hey, I sent you pictures of the paper I told you about, hope it helps with your assignment!]

[You: Sent 4 images]

The day passed as it usually would. You washed your face and brushed your teeth, got dressed, grabbed a quick breakfast, and made your way to your morning lecture. The hours seemed to drag on as the teacher talked, his words going through one ear and out the other. And still, no text from Tomura.

The next day had come and gone without any more communications. Your messages sat alone in your discussion, unread. Soon, the weekend passed too, and still, no word from Tomura.

[You: Are we still on for tutoring on Wednesday? I can move it if you need me to]

To say you had been freaking out would have been an understatement. For as much as you tried to control it, you felt like a mess, barely able to go fifteen minutes without checking your phone for messages. Was he that mad you had to kick him out? Did he still think the kiss wasn't genuine? Did he leave the country to join a pro gamer team, just to get as far away from you as he could?

The questions ran through your mind like an endlessly spinning record.

[You: Just tell me whenever you can!]

Would he even show up on Wednesday? Would it be like the first time you had met him, waiting hours for him to come, except this time, he never would?

You grabbed your face between your hands. Enough. You couldn't let one kiss send you through a never-ending spiral of doubt. If he was there on Wednesday, then great, you would talk. If he wasn’t, well, you'd deal with your feelings then and ask the faculty for someone else to tutor him.

And if you left the volume for your notifications on at maximum for the next few days, well, that was nothing more than a coincidence.

---

"Hey."

The familiar yet unexpected raspy voice almost made you fall out of the library chair, the sound of your book dropping on the table echoing through the building. The librarian threw you a dark look you barely registered, your mind focused on the tall man with dark red eyes standing next to you.

"Hey," you hesitantly said, awkwardly fidgeting with your hands. When had you gotten so self-conscious? "I wasn’t sure if you would come."

He answered with a small grunt, still not sitting down next to you. Deep, dark circles sagged under his eyes, and you wondered if he had also spent his week barely sleeping every night.

"Well," you said in the happiest tone you could muster, "we can start by checking your draft for the midterm, and seeing what we can add-"

"I already finished the midterm," he interrupted drily. "I sent it in last night."

"Oh," you swallowed slowly. Your throat was starting to feel itchy. "I guess we can... start looking at your next lectures then."

"I don't want to," he objected. "Let's just go somewhere instead."

Out of everything he could have said, that was one of the sentences you least expected.

"Tomura," you answered with uncertainty, "I'm still supposed to be tutoring you."

"And I'll tell the advisor you're the best fucking tutor there ever was and this session was great, now, will you just shut up and follow me ?" he groaned impatiently, his right hand wrapping around his neck and scratching at the fragile skin. He was anxious.

"Alright," you said softly, gathering your things before getting up and silently following the man out of the library.

The walk there was not the comfortable, calming silence you had gotten used to around him. It felt clunky, awkward, the unspoken weight of last week's kiss like a dark cloud above your heads, ready to erupt in thunder at any moment.

Once again, he led you off the beaten path and into alleyways you had never taken before. What did you truly know about him, after all? There had been so many unanswered questions about who he was outside of university. What insurance did you have that he wasn't leading you to an abandoned lot to snap your throat and sell your organs off to the highest bidder?

He stopped walking so abruptly that you bumped into his back, immediately backing away in fear of angering him. But he said nothing, staring blankly at the sign above the building, the neon light of the word "ARCADE" turned off. A huge padlock rested heavily against doors that had once been painted into bright, colourful motifs that had faded into an unreadable mess over time.

"Tomura, it looks closed," you remarked slowly.

"That's because it is," he answered drily, pulling out what looked like a bent paper clip from one of his pockets, hands instinctively going for the lock. After a few seconds of fidgeting, you heard a distinctive click, and the lock fell to the ground with a sharp metallic sound.

He smirked at your obvious surprise, welcoming you in with a flourish on his hand:

"Come on in."

You followed him in with as much confidence as you could project, which was not much considering the probability of him murdering you in an abandoned building had just significantly gone up.

The arcade was much larger than it had seemed from the outside, and had clearly been marked by the passage of time. Though there was no light on or a single window, you could make out the shapes of turned-off gaming arcades placed haphazardly throughout the room, as if the owner hadn’t been sure where to put them. The walls were covered with wallpaper that had seen been days in the eighties, old water marks deforming the large flower pattern.

Suddenly, your foot caught into something, and you yelped in surprise as you felt yourself lose balance. A surprisingly strong hand caught your arm, steadying you back on your feet. You stared at Tomura with your eyes wide, heart skipping a beat when you realized he was still holding onto you.

"Thank you," you said gently, and he let go instantly, like the touch had burnt him.

"Be more careful," he mumbled under his breath, quickly putting his hands back into his pockets. "I can't always be there to save you if you're that clumsy."

Suddenly, somewhere in the darkness, a man's angry voice rang through the arcade:

"If you goddamn kids are trying to break in again, I swear to God-"

You froze in fear as a large figure emerged, dressed in a bright purple suit and holding what looks like a metal pipe in his hand. You screamed, paralyzed into place, but as soon as the man saw Tomura, he lowered the makeshift weapon, squinting as he adjusted the small round glasses on his nose.

"Oh, it's you," he said with disinterest. You tensed as he dropped the pipe to the floor to take a puff of his cigarette, the metallic sound confirming just how heavy the thing was. "The usual?"

"Yeah," Tomura confirmed, impatiently putting his arms on the admission counter. "Hurry it up."

The older man hummed, unperturbed, like he hadn't just almost killed you for breaking in. He walked to a larger machine in the corner of the room, and inputted a few numbers on the keypad. Suddenly, the lights turned on, their artificial glow blinding. Heavy wiring sounds echoed through the room as the arcades individually powered up, chirpy 8-bit music starting to pour out of various sound systems. The whole room had suddenly taken life, like an old beast waking up from a thousand-year slumber.

The man reached into one of his deep suit pockets, pulling out two dozen shiny silver tokens before slowly counting them, cigarette still tucked between his lips. He handed them to Tomura who immediately pocketed them, not throwing a single glance at the man in the suit. The man sighed, blowing another puff of smoke, before seemingly noticing you for the first time. His lips widened into a mellow smile, revealing a missing front tooth.

"Why, Shigaraki," he purred, running a hand through his short gray hair, "you've never brought company here before. Will you introduce me to the lovely lady ?"

"Keep it in your pants, Giran," Tomura grumbled, the warning clear in his tone. "Leave us alone."

The man sighed in disapproval: "Snappy today, aren’t we? Then again, when aren't you..."

Tomura went past him without a word, and you hesitantly followed, throwing an unsure look at the older man.

"Well, I'll be in the back if you need me, don’t forget to close up when you're done," he called out, picking up the metal pipe from where he had left it on the floor.

"Yeah, whatever," Tomura replied without looking back.

You followed him through the strange maze of glowing screens and bright cabinets as he moved forward with a clear goal in mind.

"So, um, who was that ?" you asked with uncertainty.

"Some guy I know," Tomura replied. "He owes me one, so he lets me play in here for free when the arcade is closed."

That answered absolutely none of your questions. If anything, it added more. Why would this shady-looking man in this barely still standing arcade let him roam around and do as he pleased, with nothing in exchange? What kind of weight did Tomura have in these backstreet alleyways?

"Oh... alright," you replied miserably, not wanting to press the subject harder.

"Stop thinking so hard, I can hear it all the way from here," he complained.

"Sorry," you almost whispered, feeling the embarrassment creeping in. Had you always been so easy to read, or was he just that good at seeing right through you?

"Whatever," he replied with disinterest, "look at this instead."

He had stopped in front of a peculiarly large machine, in a significantly better state than anything else in the arcade. The bright yellow of the cabinet, the familiar little tune that rang from the vintage loudspeakers unmistakable.

"No way," you gasped, in awe of the inconceivable treasure that stood in front of you, "that's an original 1991 Plus Ultra arcade cabinet..."

"With the original paint job and controllers," Tomura completed, absolutely glowing with pride.

You approached the cabinet slowly, admiring it like an ancient artifact from a museum. It might as well could be one: out of a hundred produced, only three were known to still be up and running around the entire globe. It was the stuff of legends, the kind of priceless gem most people would have to settle with only ever seeing in the confines of a laptop screen.

"That's so cool," you whispered, running your fingers over the worn-out buttons with reverence, feeling the age and wear of the machine. What was it even doing in this dump?

"You haven't seen shit yet," Tomura said with a mischievous grin. "Wanna take her for a spin?"

If you could have kissed him right then and there without making things more awkward between the two of you, you would have.

---

Unsurprisingly, Tomura was good at every game he touched: from shooting games to rhythm ones, it was like he understood the secret behind every machine, long fingers nimbly moving at the speed of light. He took great pride in every win, grinning smugly for each ass-kicking he handed you. And yet, you couldn't resent him for it; you were having the most fun you had in years.

It wasn’t just the games, either. It was him. It was the way his eyebrows furrowed in concentration when he shot 2D zombies, the way he'd mock you for getting a low score at the racing simulator yet always took the time to show you how to ace all the difficult maneuvers, the way he made your heart bump increasingly against your chest every time his arm brushed yours. It was all maddening, and yet you would have exchanged it for nothing else.

"Ah, shit, it's already eight," he said, bringing you out of your reverie. You looked in the same direction as he did, surprised to find a working clock suspended on the dilapidated walls. How had time passed so fast? "We gotta go," he added.

You couldn't help but let the disappointment slip through your voice.

"Oh, alright..."

Tomura didn't answer, long legs already heading towards the exit. You followed him like a lost puppy, looking around for the man in the suit you had met earlier.

"Shouldn’t we thank the owner for letting us play ?" you asked.

Tomura looked at you with confusion, seemingly perplexed at the very concept.

"Why? I told you, he owes me."

Without another word, he walked out the door, leaving you alone in the derelict yet brightly lit arcade. You couldn't help but yell out a "Thank you!" towards nowhere in particular, hoping your words would reach the elusive man. When no one answered, you walked out to join Tomura, throwing one last look at the strange room before the door closed behind you.

"Took you long enough," Tomura mumbled, putting the forgotten padlock back into place and snapping it shut. Just like that, it was back to being an abandoned building like any other, none of the lights or sounds escaping through the thick doors. There was something nostalgic about it, as if the arcade existed somewhere outside of time and space.

"Thank you for today," you said genuinely, locking your eyes into his. He obviously hadn't expected your earnestness, his pale skin quickly turning red as pointedly stared at the floor. "I had a lot of fun."

"Whatever," he replied in a way that made it painfully clear it was not whatever, and that was quite pleased with himself. "We need to hurry up, we're already late."

Late?

"Late to what ?" you asked.

"Stop asking so many questions all the goddamn time. You'll see when we get there."

"You're just bitter because I kicked your ass on the last round."

"I went easy on you because you're not used to arcade controls. Don't let it get to your head."

You could add ‘sore loser’ to the list of things you knew about him, you thought with a smile.

Whatever awkwardness had been there earlier had completely vanished, and you felt at ease walking next to him and letting your fingers brush against his. Of course, the kiss hadn't fully left your mind, but you felt like you could breathe around him again, like he had brought you both back to the way things were before the dorm incident. Maybe a friendship wasn't exactly what you wanted, but if it was what he wanted, you could respect that.

"It's here," he said, interrupting your reverie.

Much like when he had brought you to the arcade, at first, you thought there had been a mistake. This time however, it wasn't because it looked like an abandoned warehouse.

It was because it was the exact opposite of an abandoned warehouse.

The building was positively lavish, decorated from top to bottom with delicate mouldings and golden ornaments. The red marquis at the door shone with bright, warm lights, the entryway surrounded by a perfectly cut hedge and vases filled to the brim with red roses.

It screamed of luxury, opulence, and most of all, money.

"Tomura,” you started uncertainly, feeling fidgety at the idea of even standing in a 10-mile radius of something so expensive, “I can't afford this."

"Me neither," he shrugged, seemingly totally unbothered by the situation, "but I'm not paying."

He walked in and you had no choice but to follow, feeling somehow more nervous than when you had both broken into a building barely a few hours earlier.

If the outside of the restaurant had seemed overly extravagant, the inside was unfortunately much worse. The walls were all covered with those abstract paintings that cost an arm and a leg; the floors seemed to be made out of real marble, the kind with delicate gray veins and a pearly shimmer; in the middle of the room stood a large chandelier, from which dangled hundreds and hundreds of tiny diamonds. It was out of a fairy tale.

"Reservation ?" the maitre d'hotel asked, cocking an uncertain eyebrow at your duo.

Embarrassment shot back up into you as you realized what you both looked like. You weren't wearing anything peculiarly provocative, per se, but you looked so out of place when put next to the sea of suits and sparkling dresses that you might as well have been wearing a full clown get-up.

"Shigaraki," Tomura said plainly, like he was annoyed the man would even ask him that question. You were surprised a security guard hadn't kicked you both out yet.

The man's eyes widened. He muttered a few words of apology before turning around and almost running into the backroom. From the oval windows on the doors, you could see him hurriedly grab another man by the shoulders and ask him something. After a few seconds of back and forth, the man came back out, looking slightly nauseous.

"Of course, my deepest apologies for the wait," he stammered with a deep bow before motioning you towards the dining room. "Please, follow me."

The table he brought you to had obviously been carefully selected. The glass wall it was next to gave a beautiful view of the outside street and the setting sun. It was close to the live musicians, without being too close, and a little further away from other diners, like it was its own little world. It was impossibly… romantic.

The maitre d'hote pulled your chair for you to sit; you felt like royalty, if royalty wore shoes that had been 60% on discount during last year's spring sale.

The man left with another curt bow, and you attempted to open your mouth to ask Shigaraki just what exactly was happening. But seemingly out of thin air, another well-dressed man appeared, holding a large bottle of wine.

"You should have told me we were going somewhere like this," you whispered as the waiter poured you two glasses from the bottle, which, upon closer inspection, looked to be worth about your entire college tuition. "I feel… underdressed."

And entirely out of place.

Tomura seemed unimpressed, shrugging in disinterest as his lithe fingers toyed with the perfectly folded mouchoir on his plate, effectively ruining its shape. "You look fine. Who cares what some random NPCs think?"

"Still, this is...", you hesitated, glancing at the seemingly unending parade of crystals from the chandelier on the ceiling. Was that an indoor water fountain in the middle of the room? "...A lot," you concluded.

"You don't like it," he flatly stated.

"No, that's not what I'm saying !" you hurriedly answered. "It’s gorgeous, it's just... I didn't expect this for a… first date?"

A moment of silence passed, crimson eyes observing you with an unreadable expression, before Tomura said:

"Who said anything about a date ?"

Your heart dropped.

You swallowed with difficulty, finding that all your saliva had mysteriously vanished from your mouth. "It’s... not?" you hesitantly asked.

"I mean, it's not like it isn’t, but it's not a date either," he explained vaguely, looking away from your face, "it's just us, going out somewhere. To do a thing. Like the arcade. There's no need to make it weird."

"Ok," you replied, trying to hide your disappointment and the bundle of conflicting emotions this night had built up in you. One thing at a time. "Well, I like this... thing. Even though that glass of wine probably costs more than my entire salary as your tutor," you commented with the most honest smile you could try to muster.

Thankfully, the playful, snarky expression was back on the man's face: "All the more reason for you to drink it, then."

There was something pompous yet bored in the way he drank, like he had been raised on some sort of wine etiquette and still unconsciously followed its rules. You sipped the wine politely, afraid of angering some sort of wine diety by not properly appreciating what was clearly a great vintage.

"So, what made you choose this place ?", you inquired. "It's not exactly the type of place I expected you to frequent a lot."

"I asked a friend," he replied with little interest. "He said girls like that type of shit.” He licked a few drops of his lips, and you couldn't help but immediately remember the feel of them against yours in your bedroom.

Focus, you scolded yourself.

“Was it the guy from the bar? Dabi?" you asked, remembering the encounter with the ominous-looking man.

"Hell no, I wouldn't ask that guy for advice if my life depended on it," he scoffed. "He's some guy I know online. We play League together sometimes. He's alright."

"So, you asked a random guy online where to take girls on... things that aren't dates ?" You raised an eyebrow, feeling a smile tug at your lips.

"Stop saying it like that, and no, Spinner isn’t some random guy, I know him," he clarified defensively.

You couldn't help but let out a laugh: "His name is Spinner ?"

"His gaming handle is Spinner, just-" he interrupted himself, lips thinning into an accusatory pout. "You're doing this on purpose, aren’t you."

"Yeah, kind of," you admitted.

His lips stretched into a small smile, like he couldn't make himself stay mad at you for more than a few seconds.

“I can play that game too,” he replied with a half a grin.

Before you could say anything, a hand made its way to your thigh, and your leg bumped against the table in surprise. His palm was cold, refreshing against your skin which felt like it was warming up by the second. You barely managed to suppress a squeal when he squeezed his fingers into your flesh.

"Tomura..." you whispered, a mix of desire and apprehension in your voice.

The look on his face had gotten more smug, his eyes dark, cleared emboldened by your reaction.

“Relax, you're moving around too much. They'll notice,” he admonished you in a falsely sweet tone. His hand went up a few inches higher, sliding closer towards the inside of your thighs.

The chatter and music inside the restaurant had turned to pure white noise. His nails dug gently but firmly into your skin, his long fingers massaging the meat of your thigh. It was like you were back with him in your dorm room, your body burning like wildfire with the way he seemed to revere touching you. Time stood still for a moment, and you let yourself drunkenly sink into the feeling.

A foreign voice broke you out of your stupor and of the moment you were sharing, alarm bells going off in your head at the idea that someone had noticed you both. Tomura very reluctantly moved his hand away from its dangerous position, staring daggers at the intruder.

“Sir, Madam, would you like me to introduce tonight's menu?” the unsuspecting waiter asked, totally obvious as to what he had just interrupted.

“No,” Tomura replied, cold as ice. The waiter's eyes widened slightly; was it out of surprise, or fear? “Can't you see we're busy?”

“Of course, of course,” the waiter apologized hurriedly, taking a step back, and now, you knew for sure the man was scared. His body was rigid, holding onto the printed menus for dear life. You could fully understand someone being nervous when faced with a disgruntled Tomura, especially if they didn't know him, but this was something else. The man was scared shitless.

“My most sincere apologies. I-I would never have interrupted if I had known- Please do tell your father that-”

“Leave.”

You knew that tone. It was the one he had used when talking to Dabi the day you had met him. It was like the growl of an animal warning its prey of the incoming attack, giving it one last chance to run before it would pounce.

The waiter swallowed with difficulty, his terrified gaze stuck on the floor, and after muttering something that sounded like five different apologies strung together, he left the table so fast he might as well have vanished out of thin air.

The tension could be cut with a knife. Tomura's pale brows were furrowed in displeasure, the hand that had so fervently caressed you now wrapped around his neck. He scratched at his skin, rough and unforgiving, and you noticed you hadn't seen him bruise himself that way in quite a while, now.

You cleared your throat.

“So, your father-”

“Don't.”

His lips had thinned into a line, his crimson gaze lost somewhere beyond the window you sat next to. The scratching continued, practiced and mechanical, and you could see his pale skin turning an angry red under the pressure of his nails.

“Tomura…” you sighed. “I'm just trying to get to know you. I don't understand what you want from me.”

His eyes flickered back to you.

“One minute I'm kissing you,” you explained, “and you're kissing me back, but then you don't answer my messages for a week. And then you bring me to the arcade, and to the fanciest fucking restaurant I've ever been to, but you won't say it's a date, and when I ask anything to know you more you shut me down!”

You hadn't realized you had raised your voice before you finished your rant. You realized with embarrassment the two tables closest to you had paused their conversation to look at you. You could have dug a hole into the ground to bury yourself if you could. Why did you always end up feeling that way around him?

Tomura stayed silent.

Now, you were starting to get a bit more than frustrated. His eyes were fixated on your face, like he was trying to gauge something, but he still said nothing. You had poured, shouted your feelings out, and they had fallen on deaf ears.

Before you could gather the shreds of dignity you had left to get up and leave, Tomura finally spoke, voice raspy and deep.

“You want to know me?”

You could have thrown your hands in the air in exasperation.

“Yeah, I thought I made that pretty obvious,” you replied drily.

“Fine, then,” he said, leaning forward. “See the water fountain in the corner?”

You turned your head to face the direction he was looking towards, easily spotting the imposing water feature.

“There's some restrooms right behind that. The men's are fine, but the women's are better. Cleaner. More space.”

You wanted to ask how he knew that the women's bathroom was better than the men's, but you had more pressing questions.

“I don't get where you're going with this.”

He grabbed his glass of wine, finishing what little liquid had been left before shrugging, the hint of a smile dancing on his lips.

“Haven't seen anyone walk in there since we got here. I think it's empty.”

Why would it matter if the bathroom was-

Oh.

Oh.

"Tomura, we can’t," you protested immediately, thoughts in your mind racing.

"You do what you want," he replied dismissively as he got up, his eyes never looking away from yours. Why was his stare always so intense, so enticing? "I'm heading over there. You can decide if you want to come or not."

Without leaving you time to say another word, or even formulate another thought, he was walking away, disappearing out of sight behind the fountain.

You couldn't tell if you were mad, confused, frustrated, or horny.

Tomura Shigaraki was a roller-coaster, and you didn't know how to get off it.

He was so profoundly different from anyone you had met, let alone romanced before. He was unpredictable, his mood swings constantly keeping you on your toes, but there was undeniably something you liked about that. About how unapologetic he was to be himself.

But you? You had spent your entire life building a fortress of perfection to hide behind. You got As on every assignment you were given. You finished on top of your class, in every class. You graduated with honours and three scholarships to boot. But was that you, or the person you wanted everyone to believe you were? When was the last time you did something stupid, for the hell of it? When had you been to an arcade with a friend and fooled around for hours without worrying about anyone else's thoughts?

You glanced back at the bathroom at the far end of the restaurant; no sign of Tomura. You knew he wasn't coming back.

You looked at your table, staring at your half-empty glass of wine, the liquid the same colour as his eyes. He was brash, and impulsive, and never let you catch a break. You thought back to Ms Kayama's words, back at your dorm. Everything about him screamed ‘bad idea’.

The choice became clear.

You chugged the remains of your glass, and, lightheaded but not hesitant anymore, you made your way to the bathroom.

—-

It took a grand total of three steps inside the women's restrooms before you were unceremoniously whisked away into one of the stalls, two hands crashing on the wall on both sides of your face.

"Knew it," he smirked wickedly, "you're a pervert like me."

For as much as he made himself look unbothered, you could see clear relief in his features. He was scared you wouldn't follow him.

"It's not like you gave me many options,” complained mockingly, his crooked smile contagious. “What was I gonna do, get up and pay the wine myself? I would be in debt for the next forty years."

"You always talk too fucking much. You need to learn to shut up.”

Dry yet increasingly familiar lips crashing into yours, closing the gap between your bodies. He was already a much better kisser than he had been a week prior: he was making full use of his tongue and teeth, tasting every inch of your mouth and possessively biting on your lips. You responded in favour, wrapping your arms around his shoulders to bring him closer. The ends of his hair tickled your fingers, soft and curly. When you pulled away to catch your breath, his pupils were blown wide, a drop of saliva making its way down his chin.

Beautiful, your brain supplied. The word you're looking for is beautiful.

"Can I…" he hesitantly started, and he was back to being the lost little boy who ran away from your room without a word, like he fully expected you to reject him. How could one man go so fast from self-confident and controlling to awkward and unsure?

"Tomura," you said, pressing yourself ever closer to him. His eyes darted to your cleavage pushing against his chest, and right back up, as if he wasn't sure if he was allowed to stare. The temperature in the room had gotten so warm it was dizzying, but you wanted to be closer, always closer. "I would not be in a restaurant bathroom stall if I didn’t like you.”

He swallowed with difficulty, one hand hesitantly gliding down your shoulder and stopping at your collarbone.

"I'm not going to warn you again, alright?" he muttered. "You can't just back out after this."

You grabbed his arm, firmly laying his hand on one of your breasts, before kissing him deeply. He let out a small sound of surprise, frozen in place. Then, it was as if he had awakened all at once, his fingers grabbing all they could hold onto. You moaned encouragingly in his mouth as the digits got rougher, possessively latching onto the supple flesh with the desperation of a starved man. When you pulled away for air, his grip on your chest did not lessen, instead being joined by his other hand. You muffled out a moan as he sharply massaged your breasts, the slight pain of his forcefulness unbelievably intoxicating.

"Fuck, your tits are so soft. I could shove my face in there," he rasped out. He was drunk off the feeling, off his own words, and you couldn't blame him, because you weren't faring much better. “No wonder that fucking waiter couldn't stop staring at them."

He pinched your nipples with the tip of his fingers, and you moaned. He looked positively delighted by your reaction.

"The waiter wasn’t staring," you protested weakly.

"Of course he was," he dismissed, twisting your hardened buds again to watch you squirm under him, "but it's too bad for him. I'm the one who gets to touch you today."

He pulled off your top so fast you wondered if he had ripped it. Nimble fingers took off your bra in a single try, and if you hadn't known better you could have believed he had had practice with this. You thought back to your afternoon at the arcade, how agile he was with his hands. How good they would feel grabbing your body instead of a controller…

Tomura watched the jiggle of your freed breasts with so much intensity and reverence you covered them with unexpected shyness, feeling your cheeks redden.

He frowned, grabbing both your wrists.

“Don't fucking do that.”

You let him guide your hands back around his neck as he bends down, and without warning, he wrapped his mouth around one of your tits.

"How are you so warm…" he mumbled against your skin, more to himself than you.

Through the thick fabric of his sweatpants, you could feel his erection rubbing against your leg. He was as hard as a rock, rutting more and more rapidly, and you wondered if he would cum untouched. While there was certainly something very flattering about that idea, that wasn't the way you wanted your first time to go with him. You wanted to show him you cared. You wanted to show him just how much you wanted him.

You pushed him gently, and he looked at you with dazed confusion, and a little annoyance, like an animal whose bowl of food had been taken away.

You gave him a small kiss on the top of his head to appease him before bending down and falling to your knees. You gently pushed his pants down, exposing boxers with a large stain of precum, the outline of his dick pressing against the material with desperation.

"Hey, wait, what are you..."

"Shh," you smiled up at him, "you talk too much."

If the restaurant patrons hadn't heard your hushed and whispered moans, there was absolutely no way they hadn't heard the ungodly sound that came out of Tomura's mouth when you wrapped your mouth around his length.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, fuck-"

The taste wasn't as bad as you would have expected for someone who changed clothing as little as he did. The smell of musk and sweat wasn't pleasing, and neither was the lemon-scented cleaning product they seemed to have scrubbed the entire bathroom floor with, but god, was it worth it for that face. The skin down to his collarbone was bright red, his eyes rolling into the back of his skull, his lips opened into the first syllable of a curse he couldn't manage to push out.

His thighs started shaking uncontrollably, and even if you were certain this was the first time someone touched him this way, you couldn't help but feel some sort of pride at the idea of unravelling him so quickly. Unintelligible strings of words were the only thing that escaped his lips between raspy breaths, and he let out a deep groan when you licked across the thick vein on the side of his cock.

"H-how many times have you done that before, shit-"

You could already taste fresh precum on your tongue, and you doubled your efforts, determined to make him see stars.

"I'm gonna cum," he barely panted out, grabbing the back of your head savagely, "don't you dare fucking move away."

He was in too deep, the rapid movement of his hips making you gag, but before you could pull away he came, the warm liquid filling your mouth. You coughed, ready to spit it out, but he put his hand on your mouth, his eyes glowing under the fluorescent light of the bathroom stall.

"Swallow" he simply said.

He watched the movement of your throat with utter fascination as you obeyed him, the salty taste burning. He was already getting hard again, the idea of holding so much power over you clearly arousing.

He fell to his knees and kissed you deep, his hands back all over your skin, flickering his tongue against yours as if chasing the taste of his cum in your mouth. Maybe he was right calling himself a pervert. But then, you were also one for liking it.

“Can we… do that again?” he mumbled after a few minutes against your lips, voice strained. Strands of white hair had stuck to the sweat on his forehead, and you pushed them gently to the side. You wanted to say yes. You wanted to stay here forever.

But as the fog of sex dissipated from your mind, you were starting to remember where exactly ‘here’ was.

And exactly how loud you had just both been.

"Tomura…" you swallowed with difficulty, putting a hand on his chest to put some distance between the two of you, "there’s absolutely no way the entire restaurant didn't just hear that. We're in huge trouble. They're going to kick us out as soon as we step out of here."

Oh, God, forget kick you out, what if they were calling the police? Could you get arrested for having sex in a restaurant bathroom? Surely a place like this one had connections all over the city, hell, all over the country! What if they kicked you out of school? What if-

"They can't kick us out if we're gone" Tomura interrupted your rapidly derailing train of thought with a smirk.

"What?", you replied, stunned.

Wordlessly, he pushed the bathroom stall open and headed towards the furthest wall, bare except for a few ornate mirrors and one small window. In one surprisingly agile jump, he grabbed the ledge of the window, pulling it open enough for his body to slide through. He looked back at you from outside, a smug expression on his face.

"We can't just leave without paying for the wine !" you hissed, looking behind you in fear someone had heard the sound of his acrobatics and opened the bathroom door. But there was no one.

"Let them worry about that," he shrugged, "the reservation isn't under my name anyway. At least, not exactly."

"But-" you protested.

"Trust me."

It wasn't a question, but a statement. And deep inside your heart, no matter all the warning flags and unanswered questions, the abandoned arcades and fancy restaurant bathrooms, you knew it was true.

You took his hand.

[goodbyeapathy8]

Disability in Legend of ShenLi

I was really not expecting this many thoughts about disability in a xianxia. But, here we are!

Wrote briefly about it before and how one of my xianxia pet peeves is that the female lead will inevitably go blind and we know this because THERE'S A WHITE SCARF TIED AROUND HER EYES. And it's always temporary, no one really stays disabled.

At least in Ten Miles of Peach Blossoms, there was some half-assed explanation about the "light" hurting Bai Qian's eyes but still...

What was interesting (and surprisingly realistic) about Legend of ShenLi is that her period of "leveling up" and having disability is that her disability changes daily. Which is what a lot of us deal with - it's not a predictable level of "oh it's hard for me to walk" but rather, some days, I wake up with the energy to do things and then suddenly have a flareup for no reason the next day. Sometimes within a few hours, in the same day.

There's also quite a bit of insight into what's frustrating about disability, that there's a fear your health will only continue to get worse. In particular is the scene in episode 28, where ShenLi is "stuck" in her body, not being able to hear or see etc and she panics.

It was a painful scene for me, only because it's a realistic possibility for a lot of us with disabilities.

But, let's also get to the happy parts and how Xingzhi is truly an accommodation god.

His pitying is done in private. He never expresses that OR toxic positivity to ShenLi directly. He also accepts her day to day differences in conditions without question. He doesn't ask what she needs (!!) and instead, quietly adds bumper cushions to table corners, things to help with her physical rehab (ropes hanging from the ceiling), and hugs her on the hard days.

(Bruh, where's MY Xingzhi, dammit?!)

What's most important and striking to me is that it doesn't seem to matter to Xingzhi whether she "gets better" or not. It's shown and implied that he wouldn't mind and would be accepting if this was how ShenLi was, for the rest of her life. Even though, in later episodes, he's shown in admiration for her newly leveled up skills, his respect for her doesn't diminish because her powers aren't there.

Anyway, let me stop myself before I write yet another mega post. I'm going to end with the scene that made me feel SO SINGLE. How Xingzhi, after Shenli's panic attack, still thinks she's like, the cutest widdle meow meow ever and like AGAIN, WHERE IS MY XINGZH- I'm done lol

Also, any appreciation for this post could definitely go towards Omar's family in Gaza (link goes to their GoFundMe). Their need is verified and if you want to learn more, I have a pinned post.

[incesthemes]

there's a somewhat subtle but notable development i've noticed in sam between seasons 1 and 2, in that he becomes much more willing to lie to the people he's trying to help—he starts finding lies a practical necessity and the truth about the supernatural as something to avoid in polite society.

in bugs, sam urges matt to tell his father about the curse, make him understand the severity, while dean instructs him to lie his ass off so his father will get the hell out of the house. this episode favors dean here: larry obviously doesn't buy the curse story, and it's proven to sam that the truth can in fact be more harmful than a lie.

then by salvation, sam seems to have integrated into himself that lying is necessary: when he proposes that they tell monica and her husband the truth, that a demon is coming for their baby, it's a joke. dean registers this joke with a sardonic grin and sam instantly agrees this is a Bad Idea. he's learned from his mistakes.

the development across season 1 is, here, that lying is necessary for them to do their job. people don't believe in supernatural phenomena, at least not insofar as it pertains to themselves, and they'd sooner get arrested than do any actual saving of the day.

case in point.

all this to say i think roadkill is an interesting episode. much of the conflict between sam and dean centers around what information to disseminate to molly, what she should know and what she shouldn't. they go back and forth trying to figure this out, often unprepared for her questions and hiding the truth in obfuscations and white lies. neither of them are so cruel as to tell her anything blatantly false, but neither of them are willing to tell her the full, unadorned truth.

sam has learned his lesson: he keeps everything he tells her in the realm of plausible deniability, refracted through layers of half-truths that don't actually tell molly anything about her situation. even though he is the one who outright proposes that they tell her the truth, he is the one who, surprisingly, ends up telling her the least.

instead dean is the one who offers up the most blatant truths throughout most of the episode. in this sequence, sam even resists the truth, still convinced that obfuscation is what will further their goals most. the truth will make people think they're crazy, it'll get in the way of doing their job. he's not wrong, either:

and until the end of the episode, he continues to bury the full truth and speaks in roundabout ways to keep it from her.

many such examples.

anyway, what i also find interesting about this is that while sam commits to this lesson he learned in season 1, dean is rather forthcoming about the truth. clearly he doesn't like the idea of telling molly what's going on, but he's still quite often the one to offer up a plain, truthful explanation over sam's much nicer obfuscations. which is a little strange, considering he is the one who typically pressures sam into lying and constantly reminds him of the value in lies. not that dean has never cut the crap and offered up the truth—there are plenty of episodes where he does just that—but since a major conflict of this episode centers around this point of contention and since dean has already expressed his unwillingness to tell molly the truth, i can't help but raise an eyebrow.

what this episode also does, however, is parallel molly and sam. similar to maggie in playthings, molly is a monster by circumstance, lonely and afraid. she functions as an allegory for sam as his destiny develops and his fears about his impending doom heighten, and when sam speaks to her he is also speaking to himself, about himself.

ultimately, i think this indicates a development on dean's part, as well. after croatoan and hunted, dean has no more secrets to keep from sam, and he's chosen him as his codependent life partner. more or less, he's "taking responsibility for himself" by abandoning his duty and devoting himself entirely to sam. and sam values the truth: he's resistant to lying to civilians about the supernatural and only reluctantly gives up after a full season of grappling with it, and when it comes to his brother one of the first demands he makes of dean in season 2 is that they no longer keep secrets from each other (it's their major point of conflict between 2x02 and 2x04, after all). it's easily deduced that this stems from his life of exclusion, and it's understandable that sam wouldn't want dean to keep secrets from him now that they've evolved their relationship into codependency. and now that dean has abandoned his duty for sam, dean can eschew the life of secrets and exclusion he's been both knowingly and unknowingly implicit in up until now.

so if molly is sam, then dean telling molly the truth seems to indicate an olive branch of sorts. it's an indication that even if he doesn't want to, dean will tell sam the truth—he's fully committed to the relationship, especially after born under a bad sign where he reasserts his commitment to sam above all else. i think it's a nice symbolic gesture to indicate his character growth. the honeymoon phase that takes place between hunted and what is and what should never be do a lot to explore how their relationship can grow in weirdly positive ways that we really don't see again until like—god, like season 10, and their only barrier to bliss for this stretch of time is sam's all-encompassing existential angst trying to pull them apart (unsuccessfully so, until all hell breaks loose).

but all that said, i think the way truths and lies are explored in roadkill are indicators not only of their own personal developments, but also their developments with each other. molly functions as the conduit through which sam is explored—both dean's relationship to sam and sam's relationship to himself. she reveals what sam fears and what sam values, and she showcases how time has passed for sam and dean and what that time has done for them. sam has learned the necessity of a lie, but he keeps his lies as close to the truth as possible, laced in obfuscation and omission. dean has learned the value of the truth, at least when it comes to his brother, and even if he knows it's dangerous and stupid to tell the truth he will put himself out there anyway, for sam's sake.

i don't know. i think it's interesting.